#also yes i am procrastinating a million drawings to make this thank you for noticing <33

[sleepytownzzz]

the shirt is @ ellie btw

[calpalirwin]

I’ll Still Be Here

A/N: Oh look, I made a gender-neutral reader! Also, this picture of baby Ash makes me feel things. Anyway, gender-neutral reader x Ash blurb in 3... 2...1

And away, and away we go!

~~~

Ashton rolled over in bed, his arm instinctively reaching for you, eyes opening in still-asleep confusion when he didn’t find your warm body sleeping next to his. 

He rolled back over, blindly reaching for his phone to check the time. 11:38 am. No wonder you weren’t asleep next to him. He almost never slept in this late himself, not even with his late nights out with the band.

He shuffled out of the bedroom, yawning and stretching his arms over his head, hunting for you. He eventually found you in the office, a frown on your face as you stared at the computer screen in front of you. Your fingers typed hurriedly at the keyboard, paused, then mashed angrily at the delete button. 

“Morning, love,” Ashton said, drawing you out of your work trance.

Your head glanced up and you offered a smile. “Morning, Ash. How’d you sleep?”

“Better if you had been next to me,” he told you, coming over to place a kiss on your head. “How long have you been up?”

“Mmm, since like 8 I think,” you answered, cracking your fingers and getting ready to set back to work. 

“And how long have you been working?” was the follow up question even though he knew the answer. You were still your pajamas. Your hair was still a mess. A plate of barely-nibbled-at toast sat just out of reach of your hands, along with a cold cup of untouched coffee.

“Bout as long,” you answered sheepishly, watching as he grabbed the plate and coffee cup. “I got distracted, I’m sorry.”

Another kiss found its way to your head. “How about I make us some lunch?” he offered.

“That’d be great, Ash, thank you,” you said, smiling. 

“Of course, love. Don’t work too hard,” he gently warned, leaving you to your work.

“I won’t,” you lied. You had a huge presentation you had been putting off doing for a while, and your procrastination was coming back to bite you. You’d be lucky if this didn’t take you the rest of the day. 

You quickly set back to work, challenging yourself to see how much you could get done before Ashton came in with lunch. The short answer was not enough to make you feel even the slightest bit of pride or satisfaction. 

“Break time,” Ashton announced, walking in with an already-cut-up individual pizza and a drink. 

“Mmm,” you smiled, your mouth watering as he placed the food in front of you and moved your laptop out of the way. “Thank you, bubs.”

“No working while you eat. And don’t rush, either,” he told you with a kiss. 

“Yes, sir,” you mocked, giving a playful roll of your eyes. It was sweet the way he wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. But you were also capable of taking care of yourself. And more importantly you had work to do. “Wait, you’re not gonna eat with me?” you asked, noticing he was already in the doorway. 

“Nah, do what you gotta do. I’ll still be here when you’re done. Holler if you need anything.”

“Okay. Thank you, again, Ash.”

“Of course, love,” he smiled before disappearing out of the room. Through the open door you could hear the sounds of the TV playing in the living room. 

You smiled and munched on your lunch. You loved that he understood that you needed to get work done, respected that you needed solitude in order to do it, and didn’t make you feel guilty about it.

~~~

“You don’t need to apologize. That’s what healthy relationships are,” he had told you the first time you felt you had hurt his feelings by saying you needed to work. “You have a life that requires your attention. I know that I’m only part of that life.”

“An important part,” you had assured him, still feeling guilty.

“Love, it’s okay,” he had pressed. “Do what you gotta do. I’ll still be here when you’re done. Holler if you need anything.”

And so had been the supporting phrase uttered by both of you whenever the other got caught up in other things: Do what you gotta do. I’ll still be here when you’re done. Holler if you need anything. 3 simple sentences that meant just as much to both of you as 3 simple words. 

~~~

Ashton kept himself busy and out of the way for the next few hours, occasionally walking by the office to find you still working. 

He held back a sigh when he noticed that a quarter of your pizza remained untouched. 

He knew how you got when you worked- so lost in your own world that you forgot the real world around you. 

He also knew that you didn’t like it all that much when he pushed you to take care of your own needs when you got like this because “Ash, I’m not doing this on purpose. I know how to take care of myself, thanks.”

So he went about his day, watching TV, keeping in touch with the guys regarding the band, doing anything and everything he could to fight against the instinct to take care of you.

But, when 4 pm rolled around and you still hadn’t made an appearance, he had enough. 

He went to the bathroom and ran a bath, paying careful attention to the temperature of the water, before adding bubbles and lighting a candle for extra effect: something he knew you loved when you wanted to relax. 

With a freshly clean towel waiting on the counter, and the bath ready, he went to the office in search of you. “Alright, c’mon,” he announced, startling you. 

“Jesus, fuck, Ash!” you breathed, hand flying to your chest. “You can’t just sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry, but c’mon,” he said, holding out his hand to you.

“What? Ash, no. I really need to get this done.”

“And I really need you to come with me,” he responded in a tone that said this wasn’t up for debate.

You narrowed your eyes, wondering if it was worth to fight him on it, but his look matched his tone- he wasn’t budging unless you did what he was asking of you. No. Not asking. Telling. Ordering, really. “Fine,” you conceded, taking his offered hand and standing up. 

“Thank you,” he grinned, leading you out of the office and over to the bathroom all the while you cursed that damned smile of his that you both knew you’d do anything to see. 

“Ash!” you scolded once you saw the bathroom. “You’re using your power for evil again.”

“Am not,” he protested. “You need a break. And we both know you work better when you feel better, and that you always feel better after a bubble bath.”

You looked over at the inviting water and back at your boyfriend, who was leaning against the counter smirking at you, clearly very proud of himself. “A half hour. That’s it. And you have to join me,” you compromised.

“Deal!” Ashton happily agreed, quickly stepping out of his sweatpants and getting in the tub. 

You rolled your eyes and let out a small laugh before joining him, laying between his legs with your back pressed against his chest. His arms came to wrap around you, holding you close to him. “You work too hard,” he murmured as his chin rested on your shoulder. 

“I don’t work hard enough,” you corrected. If you had set aside proper time to work at this project slowly, rather than putting it off, you wouldn’t be scrambling now.

“Nope,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “You’re too hard on yourself. You know you’ll get it done. You know you’ll do great. You need to stop and take a minute for yourself.”

“It was taking a minute for myself that got me into this mess in the first place, Ash. Too many me minutes, not enough work minutes.”

“Shh, stop,” he said, his voice soft. “Just be here with me.”

“And you’re one to talk,” you pressed on, your mind still spinning at a million miles an hour. “You work yourself damn near to death 24/7.”

“Hey, stop,” he said again, his voice switching from soft to stern as his face tilted to look at you. “I’m trying to do something nice for you, and you really wanna fight with me instead?”

You sighed and rubbed at your face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’ve been really sweet making sure I’m well taken care of. But, I’m stressed, Ash.”

“I know, love,” he said, his voice back to being soft. “Take a minute to refocus and reset.”

“Fine,” you said, relaxing into him, closing your eyes as you did so. 

~~~

You emerged from the office at 8:17. Ashton had been right, that bubble bath had made you feel so much better and you had returned to your work with renewed energy. 

And now, after roughly being at this for 12 hours, it was done. And so were you. 

You curled up next to him on the couch, lying down and placing your head in his lap. 

“Hey, love,” he greeted, an arm coming down to rest across your shoulders. 

“Hi,” you mumbled into his lap. 

“Finally done?”

“Mhm.”

He leaned over you to kiss your head. “Good job, baby. I bet it’s great.”

You shrugged. “I guess.”

“Want me to run you another bath or make you something to eat?”

You shook your head. You just needed him- his presence, his warmth, his love. 

“Need me to hold you?” he asked, picking up on your slight mannerisms. 

You nodded. 

“C’mere then,” he said, suppressing a giggle. 

You adjusted yourself so you were sitting in his lap, facing him, your arms wrapped around his neck, and your face pressed into his neck. You felt so small in his arms and it was just what you needed. “I’m so tired, Ash.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he answered, his hands rubbing up and down your back. 

“Brain won’t shut up.”

“Is it saying bad things or stress spiraling?”

“Both.”

“Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna sit here and breathe. And if you need to cry, go ahead and cry. Or scream. Or whatever. Do you what you gotta do. I’ll still be here holding you when you’re done.”

[calumisgod]

Teach Me (Michael Clifford Smut)

Summary: Y/N is a confused virgin who has never done anything but kiss, and Michael is her hot experienced friend willing to show her the ropes. 

A/N: SPOILER ALERT: There’s no sex. Sorry for the disappointment fam, but there is plenty of other dirty things to fill your needs. I was really planning to write sex, but the way the story went changed my plans. I am willing to make a part 2 if y’all want that but otherwise please enjoy! I find Michael gives me the least inspiration when writing smut but I’m actually liking how this turned out and I hope you do to. 

Requested: Nope, just something I worked on for awhile and recently came back to.

Word Count: 5k

REQUESTS ARE OPEN PLEASE MESSAGE ME IM LONELY AND LOVE TO WRITE

You’re home alone, and incredibly, unfathomably bored. After seven episodes of Chopped, you decide to further ignore your homework and everyday responsibilities, and invite Michael over to hang out, because you’re pretty sure he’s also avoiding school work at all costs. You send him a quick text, and the reply comes almost instantly.

I’ll be over in ten.

You toss your phone aside, and sure enough, Michael arrives ten minutes later.

You open the door for him with a smile, and he quickly steps through the door and pulls you into a hug. You nuzzle into his neck and squeeze his waist tightly before pulling back.

“I thought we could watch a movie in my room,” you suggest, leading him up the stairs.

“I will do anything that furthers my procrastination.”

“Perfect.”

Once you get to your room, you pick a movie out and Michael makes himself comfortable in your bed, as you fiddle with the dvd player. You pop in the movie and turn out the room lights, before heading over to join Michael on the bed. You slip in beside him, and because he’s Michael, he tosses a lazy arm around you and pulls you right into his side. You recline into his touch and can’t help your arm drifting over his torso, bringing you closer. This would be weird for most platonic friends, but it was you and Michael! Cuddling is constant in your friendship. He rubs your back lightly and enjoys the movie in silence, content at enjoying your company. After the movie, you sit up slightly, and Michael leaves his arm. He yawns and stretches a bit, before settling back into his seat.

“What now?” he asks. You shrug.

“I can get some ice cream and we can find something on my computer.”

“Okay!” he agrees. “Is your password still-”

“Yes. It’s still password.”

“Oh my god, you’re definitely going to get hacked and become victim of identity theft or some shit.”

You stick out your tongue at him, and he chuckles, as you head downstairs.

Once in the kitchen, you scoop out generous heaps of ice cream into the blue and green bowls and also, quite adorably, assemble tiny cups of sprinkles and different sauces. After finishing the dairy masterpiece, you carefully walk upstairs with the tray. You turn around to push the door open, and after setting down the tray, you notice Michael acting a little off.

“Hey, what’s up?” you ask, pulling his eyes away from the laptop screen.

“I didn’t mean to pry or anything-” he begins, “But this was just open when I logged in.”

He turns the screen around and it reveals your browser open to your last google search:

How do you french kiss??

And just like that, your face turns a million shades of red.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, covering your face with your hands. “Please don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not going to make fun of you.” he assures. “M’just surprised is all.”

“Surprised I’m dumb enough to leave embarrassing shit on my computer?”

“No… Surprised you’ve never kissed before.’

You frown out at that. ‘Hey, I’ll have you know I’ve kissed plenty of boys… just not past closed mouth.”

He raises his hands in submission and clicks the tab away.

“It’s okay,” he says, softly.

“No it’s not.” you respond with a grimace. “It’s embarrassing.”

He shrugs.

“Want to just forget about it?’ he asks, opening his arms up to you.

You nod and crawl into the bed with him, cuddling yourself into his arms. He chooses another movie to watch and finally you move past the awkward issue.

Or so you thought.

“It’s not hard y’know.” he says, stroking your hair.

“What?” you ask, lifting your head from his chest.

“French kissing.” he says, clearing his throat a bit, “You don’t really need an article to show you.”

I laugh dryly.

“Easy for you to say. You’ve done it a thousand times.”

He goes quiet again for a minute, and then offers, almost as if he can’t help himself,

“I could show you.”

You look up at him, with wide eyes, the only light between you being the faint glow of the laptop.

“Are you messing with me? Cause that’s not funny Michael.”

“No I’m not,” he swears, “I just thought I could help you.”

Without thinking, you reply, “Um okay.”

He raises his eyebrows at you. “Really?’

You nod slowly, as if reassuring yourself. “Yeah.”

He pauses the movie and sets your laptop aside. He sits up, and you follow suit, heart pounding as you look into his hazel eyes, completely unaware how the situation escalated this quickly.

“Um I’m going to put my hands here.. If that’s cool.” he mumbles, sliding his calloused hands along your waist.

“Uh yeah totally.” you stammer, wondering why you’re so nervous all of a sudden. You drape your arms loosely around his shoulders and suddenly you’re so close. His nose presses lightly against your own, and gently, his lips ease onto yours. You relax a little into it, as you’ve done this before, but you can immediately tell that Michael’s the best kisser you have ever kissed. You slide your hands up to cup his cheeks, and you feel yourself melting into his kiss, in a way you haven’t before. His tongue urges against your bottom lip, and you immediately pulled back.

“It’s okay,” he soothes, rubbing circles on my hips, “just open your mouth when you feel comfortable.”

You nod nervously. He can sense your hesitancy, so he tries to make you feel as relaxed as possible.

“Hey,” he says, squeezing your waist, “It’s just me.”

That gets you. You surge back in and connect your mouth to Michael’s. The second time his tongue presses against your lips, you cautiously open them, and Oh that feels really good. You follow his lead, and your tongues almost dance between each others. After a while you are definitely getting the hang of it. Michael makes it flirty and playful by, drawing patterns on your hips and hooking his teeth onto your bottom lip, pulling on it a little before pressing back into you, and you can’t recall ever being this attracted to him.

You tug on his shirt collar, desperate to feel closer to his kiss, and before you know it, he’s looming over you. He slumps just enough to press his body to yours, and it automatically deepens the kiss. Just as you think this kiss will never end, MIchael pulls back, and stares at you. He freezes for a second and then quickly shifts over to lay beside you.

“See,” he breathes. “Easy.”

“Yeah. thanks.”

*

After that night, things are.. weird. Obviously Michael acts like everything's the same as it was before, but you can’t deny that your feelings towards him have changed. He was so sweet about you being inexperienced, and he wanted to kiss you so that must mean something right? And you can’t put aside the fact that the way he kisses makes you want more. It’s like the movies. When your skin connects, even for a brief second, you feel butterflies.

It’s been three days, and after struggling internally for far too long, you confide in Ashton and ask for advice.

“Come on Y/N, what is it?” he asks, after you’ve dragged him to your locker.

“I need your advice.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

You take a deep breath and just come out with it.

“I sort’ve made out with Michael.”

His eyes light up, and he offers you a high five.

“That’s awesome!’ he grins. “He’s got a huge penis.”

You wrinkle your nose, and return Ashton’s high five weakly.

“But I think he thinks of it as a hook up, but I think I might like him?’

“Then ask him out.” he says flatly. “It’s not that hard of a concept.”

“But what if he doesn’t want to go out?”

“Believe me. He wants to.”

With Ashton’s advice, you ask Michael to hang out later that day and he agrees. When the clock strikes four, you hear a knock at your door, and you immediately feel that fluttering in your stomach. You head over and pull it open, and before you can think, Michael surges forward and attaches your lips to his. He kicks the door shut behind him, and all you can really do is kiss him back, all thought of conversation and relationship flying out the window. Without breaking contact, he somehow makes it to your couch and easily, pulls you into straddling him, and you can’t deny how good he feels against you. It’s not long before your head starts to get dizzy with his kiss, so you pull back to look at him.

“Hey,” he says, sheepishly, “Sorry about that.”

“S’fine,” you mumble. For some reason, you can't bring yourself to talk to him about your feelings just yet, so you resign to pressing a kiss to his pale neck.

“Could you teach me a few more things?” you ask, in between butterfly kisses, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

“Whatever you want.” he says, his breathing getting shallow as you continue to trail your lips down his skin.

You reconnect your lips and you feel every part of your body reacting to him. His touch is electric. You can’t tell if it’s because it’s Michael, or if it is a result of never being like this with someone before, but either way, you feel more sexually charged than you ever had in your life.

His hands ghost up your sides, and he pulls back slightly, lips still on yours.

“Can I?” he asks, thumbs on your chest.

“Please.”

His hands force you apart so he can grope at your chest. You squeak as he does so, producing the first outright noise you’ve ever made with him.

“That's what I like to hear.” he smirks, brushing a finger over your nipple, hardening against your bra. You experiment with biting down on his lip, which elicits a low drawl from within his throat, muffled by your mouth on his.

“What do you want to do today?” he asks. You know what you want, but you’re nervous to admit it. You’re not going to pretend he doesn’t intimidate you sexually.

You don’t respond for a second, which worries him.

“Babe?” You bite down on your lip at his use of a  pet name, and fiddle with the ends of your hair.

“Are you done for today?”

You shake your head.

“Then what do you want?” he asks, lifting your chin.

“It’s embarrassing.” You say, a blush heating up over your face.

“S’not,” he assures, “you just want to feel good and I want to help.”

“Could you,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his, “give me head?”

He inhales deeply, then presses a kiss to your lips.

“Fuck Y/N, I'd love to”

“Can we move to my room?” you ask him.

He doesn't reply, just simply curls  his hands under your thighs and lifts you up. You tighten your arms around his neck, as he kisses down your jaw on the way your room. He sets you gently onto your bed, and climbs on in front of you. He leans over your body to kiss you and further your physicality by pulling your leg up over his hip. Your dress rides up your thigh and for the first time, you can feel Michael against you. Really feel him. Your untouched body writhes under his touch, desperate for contact.

“Michael,” You whine, breaking the kiss.

“Do you want me?” he asks, voice like gravel.

“Yeah,” you manage, trying to ignore the way you involuntarily shuddered at his words.

He gives you one last lingering kiss before sliding down your body and pushing your dress up completely over your hips. You hold your breath as he runs his hands up your thighs.

“For this, all you have to do is lay and relax.”

You nod, and let your eyes flutter closed as he begins pulling your underwear down. He slips it gently over your ankles and spreads your legs ever so slightly.

“Have you ever had an orgasm,” he asks, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Yeah,” you  sputter, “masturbation, y’know.”

“But not by any other guys?”

“No. Just you.”

He moves up close and tentatively presses his lips against your core, earning a gasp from you. His tongue slips through his parted lips and slides along your wet slit, making you feel so hot, in a way you’ve never felt before. He slide his hands up your body till he finds your hands, and interlaces your fingers together. As he continues to sweep his tongue over you and nip at your sensitive spots, you began to moan, like you’ve never have before. You unintentionally grind yourself onto his mouth, and it becomes almost impossible to stop Michael’s name from falling from your lips.

“Feel so good Mike,” you sigh, gripping his hands tighter.

“Tastes even better,” he groans, pressing his face deeper into you. He latches his lips around your clit and his teeth drag ever so slightly around it, making your back arch off the bed and that’s when you feel pressure in the pit of your stomach.

“Close,” was all you can say, before pressing down onto Michael. He quickly speeds up his motions and you continue to build. It’s happening so quickly and with one last flick, you release, in pure ecstasy. He pulls you through it with gentle licks, and all you can think about is how much better it was when he does it than when you do it yourself.

He resurfaces once you calm down, his chin shiny and his smile bright. He pushes the skirt of your dress down and climbs into the bed beside you, slinging an arm low over your hips.

“Was that alright?” he asks, snuggling into your neck. You steady your breathing and let your arm fall to rub his back.

“So good,” you tell him, “So fucking good.”

He laughs a little.

“You taste really nice.”

You bite your lip. “Thanks.”

The two of you lay in silence, just Michael massaging the curve of your hip, and you relishing in the feeling of his weight pressed against you.

“Y’know, it's really hot when you swear.” he says, looking up at you. You  almost feel like laughing, but Michael finding something about you hot, pushes the humor of the situation away.

“It's hot when you do anything,” you blurt out. You think he’s going to laugh at you, but instead,  he leans up and gives you a warm open mouthed kiss.

You hang out for a little over an hour before Michael’s mom calls him home. He gives you a tight goodbye hug and leaves, leaving you more confused about your relationship than when the day started.

*

“You did what?” Ashton asks, clearly in shock by this new information.

“We went to third base, and I didn't tell him I like him.”

“How have you gone to third base without telling him you like him?”

You shrug and put your face in his hands.

“It didn’t seem like the right time.”

“Well clearly if you were balls deep-”

You slap him in the arm. “Don’t be gross. And I wasn’t balls deep.”

Throughout the rest of the week Ashton continues to tell you to actually go after Michael for a relationship, but without knowing where he stand, you don’t feel comfortable admitting your feelings to him. But the problem is, you can’t stop thinking about him or his feelings for you, if there are any. It’s just… why does he continuously offer to help you with all the physical stuff? It could be just because he wants sex, but Michael isn't like that.

It’s Thursday of the next week when he reaches out to you again.

Free after school? he texts. You smile at your phone and respond immediately.

For you… Never.

Aw come on, please?

I guess I can make time :)

I'm glad. I'll meet you in the parking lot.

After school that day, you’re excited and nervous for the night ahead. You make your way out to the parking lot to see Michael leaned up against his car, and you wish it didn’t, but it gives you butterflies. You run up to him and tackle him in a hug. He quickly engulfs you in his arms, laughing into your shoulder.

“Hey babe,” he grins, pulling back to see your face.

“Hi,” you smile.

He heads around to the driver’s seat and you follow suit getting into the passenger seat.

“Hey, could we get some food first? I'm starving.” He asks, shoving the key into the ignition.

“Sure, Mike.”

He drives to a little diner near school and you sit at a small booth in the back. After ordering, receiving, and finishing your quick meal, the waiter returns to grab your plates.

“Would you like me to split the check?” he asks, setting a fork onto his stack of plates. Before you can respond, Michael cuts you off.  

“No thank you sir.”

Once the waiter leaves,  you eye him suspiciously.

“Michael even though it's easier for the waiter, doing that makes it so much more difficult for us to pay.”

He waves your words away.

“I'm paying.”

You try to object, but he ignores you.

“I made you come out with me, so I'm paying. It's not a big deal.”

You tug your lip between your teeth and allow him to pay, trying not to overthink his kind gesture and turn it into something more.

After a short drive to Michael’s house, he parks the car, and the nerves fully hit you. This will be the first time being at Michael’s house without other people being there. After he unlocks the door he tosses an arm around you and thankfully that calms you a little bit. Seconds after entering you’re  surprised to hear Michael’s mom’s voice greeting him from the kitchen.

She heads into the living room, wiping her hands on a dish towel. When she sees Michael with his arm around you, her face seems to light up.

“Oh hello Y/N!” she smiles, “So nice to see you.”

“Nice to see you too Mrs. Clifford.” you say, offering her a wide smile.

“Michael didn't tell me he was having anyone over.” she says, untying the apron around her waist. “No matter, I was just about to leave anyways.”

Michael offers a sheepish smile and Karen makes quick work of  getting her things together. As you  go to take off your shoes, Karen leans over to whisper something to Michael and he just grins stupidly and wiggles out of her grasp.

She waves goodbye to you and leaves happily.

“Sorry about her. She can be so motherly at inappropriate times.” he says, coming over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“It's no problem, she's so sweet.” you assure him. “What I want to know is what she says to you when I was over there,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He scrunches up his nose and rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“She said I made a good choice because you are very pretty.”

I giggle.

“I'm glad Karen approves.” you say, pressing a kiss to his lips. “But I doubt she would approve of what I'm about to do to you.”

“And what is that?” he asks, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

“I wanna give you a blowjob,” you say just above a whisper. With your words, he grabs your hand and pulls you to his room. He shuts the door and quickly, and immediately has you pressed up against it.

“I'm blind in this area,” you warn, in between his kisses, “I'm going to need you to talk me through it.”

He moves the object of his kisses to your forehead and nose and cheeks, turning from passionate to sweet and loving in a second.

“Don't worry.”

You pull him to the comfy chair in his corner and kiss him, but it seems different than before. It’s a lot softer and sweeter than before.

“What do I do first?” you ask, sitting yourself down on Michael's lap.

“You have to uh, get me hard.” he says, running his hand through your hair.

You make a face. “I don't know if I can do that.”

He nips at your neck. “Oh I’m very confident you can. Just, do what feels right.”

You’re sure you look like a deer in headlights for a second, but you quickly regain your composure, and pull your shirt over your head.

“Is that a good start?” you ask, making sure your breasts were at level with his eyes. He chokes a little and looks back up at the little smirk on your face.

“A very good start.”

You slip your legs on either side of Michael and pull him by the collar into a kiss. You’ve gained so much more confidence in your body since the first time you kissed Michael, and right now you’re pulling it out. You don’t even flinch when he slides your bra straps down ever so gently. Using some context clues, and what you’ve seen in porn, you slowly begin rocking yourself against Michael.

“Fuck,” he mutters, as the friction between you increases. He pauses kissing your lips to attach his lips to the tops of your chest. You love the feeling of him, but you can’t help but want more.

“Could you?” you ask, motioning to your bra clip, slightly out of breath from the grinding taking place.

He makes quick work of your bra, and pulls his own shirt over his head to make it even. Your chest only presses against his for a second, before he’s connecting his mouth to your nipple.

“Wow,” you breathe. Not only does his mouth on you feel amazing, but you can literally feel him growing beneath you. The fact you have that effect on him is incredibly sexy to you.

“Your tits are amazing,” he says, kissing you again.

“I knew you'd love them,” you laugh, pressing your chest against his.

You rock particularly rough against him and he groans.

“I’m sure you can tell, but I'm hard,” he tells you, sliding his hands over your bare waist.

“Okay,” you say, climbing off his lap, and settling in front of him on the ground.

Your eyes zero in on his bulge, and you can feel the wetness growing between your thighs as you look at it. You sit up on your knees and reach for his zipper, before sliding his pants down and then it’s just thin fabric between you and Michael’s dick. You run your hand over it, and Michael ruts against your hand.

“Sorry,” he breathes, opening his eyes to look at you. You reach for his waistband and with a single tug, his cock springs free.

You whimper at seeing him for the first time, and you had no idea seeing him would turn you on so much. You take a deep breath and grasp him in your hand.

“What do you want from me, M?” you ask, the situation turning serious.

“Your mouth, baby.” he pleads.

“What do I do?”  

He sits up closer to you, and pulls your hair back, as you start pumping him in your hand.

“Start sort of like kissing,” he says, “don't use your teeth, and just go with your gut.”

You sit for a second, as those weren’t the best directions in the world, and Michael quickly senses your fear, leaning down just enough to kiss your forehead. You know you want to make Michael feel good and that is enough for you to wrap your lips around his head and go for it.

You drag your lips up the side and take a little bit more of him into your mouth, and surprisingly, it’s not as bad as you expected it would be. You start to slowly bob push and pull him back into your mouth, and the groans and little whispers he starts up, fuels you forward. You have a gag reflex, so you can only go so far, but each time you hit your limit, he squeezes his eyes shut and pulls at your hair, which is completely worth the momentary loss of breath. Watching him is so hot to you, you can’t help but reach down to rub yourself lightly through your skirt. It’s an overwhelming amount of pleasure, and it makes you moan around Michael. You can tell he’s trying to keep from thrusting up into your mouth so it’s grateful for that. Getting him there seems to take forever, but when you feel him start to twitch in your mouth, relief washes over you.

“Babe, you can pull off now,” he chokes out. You look up at him and shake your head. You’ve made it this far, you’re not going to quit now.

“Gonna come for you,” he warns, voice ragged. At the sound of his voice, you whine around him, and that’s what sends him over the edge. He jerks up into your mouth, and all you focus on is swallowing quickly and watching his face as he comes undone beneath you.

When you’re sure he’s finished, you pull off, wincing a little at the odd aftertaste in your mouth.

You help him back into his underwear, and he grabs his balled up shirt and uses it to wipe off your mouth before pulling you back into his lap.

“How was that?” you ask, resting your arms over his that are draped around your waist.

He nuzzles into your shoulder and you can see him holding back a smile. You rested your hands on his cheeks and pull him up to look at you.

“That bad, huh?” you laugh, placing a kiss on his nose.

“Nah,” he smiles, a blush rising on his cheeks. “It was so so good.”

“Don't flatter me.”

“I'm not babe, I'm just stating facts.”

“I like it when you call me babe.” you say, before you can help yourself.

He doesn’t reply, but rather pulls you closer to him. And having him hold you is something you don’t see yourself getting sick of anytime soon.

*

For the next month, you and Michael hang out more, beyond sex stuff; and him buying you dinner and taking you out places becomes a more frequent occurrence.

And you continue to not talk about your feelings for a long time, but it all comes to a head when the two of you are stretched out on a blanket on the hood of his car, looking up at the stars.

There’s a lull in conversation when Michael turns onto his side to look at you. Noticing his change in physicality, you turn on your side as well to look at him. He puckers his lips at you, and you roll your eyes, but lean in to him and kiss him. You kiss casually, your tongues intertwining, and your hands on each other, but you pull back abruptly before you can stop yourself.

“Have you been thinking about sex?” you ask, bluntly.

He stiffens. “What do you mean?” “Well, I guess that’s the logical next step for you to teach me, and I was just wondering if you’ve been thinking about it or not?”

He studies me for a second, before pulling away from your gaze.

“I guess I’ve been thinking about it, but I don’t think I would be the best teacher for you.”

You furrow your brows. Why after all that you’ve done is he trying to pull out now?

“Why not?” you ask, pulling back from his touch. He can tell he’s upset you, so he quickly reaches for your hips and pulls you back.

“It’s cause I’m a virgin, Y/N.” he states, and you are utterly taken aback that.

“Seriously?”

He makes a face. “Why is that so weird?’

“You kind of put up a facade that you’re a sex genius, so I guess I just assumed.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not.” he says, his fingers absentmindedly tapping at your hips. “So I should probably leave sex to the experts.”

You bite down on your lip, and he before you can formulate a response he continues.

“I don’t know I’ve always hoped I would lose my virginity to someone who really cares about me. Like that’s stupid, but you know what I mean.”

“I care about you.” you say, before you can stop yourself.

“I know, Y/N, but I mean like... romantically.” he says, cringing a little at his own words.

“So do I.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “What?”

“I like you Michael.” you say, and then it all comes out. “I’ve liked you since we started all this stuff, and I was going to tell you, but doing this was basically like dating anyways, so I just let it slide.” And you can see his face shifting into a smile. “But the bottom line is I like you.”

“Good.” he mumbles, tugging you into a messy kiss. “Because I thought I was the only one catching feelings.”

“Well actually,” he continues. “I kind of caught feelings before we started doing all this, but definitely watching you blow me made the feelings deeper.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“No, you’re stupid.”

You open your mouth to send back another retort, but he catches your lips in a kiss, melting away all negative thoughts from your brain.

And while you kiss, Michael’s thoughts ring in your ears, about wanting to lose his virginity to someone who cares about him, and you smile against his lips, knowing that if that someone is you, you’ll make that wish come true.

[basshouse]

Of Politics and Road Trips

Welp, it seems like the time has come to address one of the gnarliest and most frequently asked questions of all time.  To be clear, that's gnarly for me and to me, respectively.  I’d also like to memorialize a recent road trip.  Before I start, though, let’s get grounded in the current context: it’s late summer IN MARCH; We are headed intro autumn, and there has been enough early snow that Mount Hutt was open for skiing (what?!?!).  I started my new job at Jade Software; the kids started a new school year in January, with Anily headed off to her first year of high school (5 years of high school here); both kids have changed to a new soccer club, which is much closer to the house (thank god); Anily made the A team; James is playing soccer and basketball and ridiculous amounts of Fortnite.  It’ll soon be a year that we’ve been here. We are right in the middle of a full 12 weeks of visitors and trips from/to the US. And in case you were wondering, the cat has managed to escape through open windows and doors a few times, but he’s always come back so I guess he’s ours for real :-)  

I still haven't submitted my dreadfully complicated tax return.  I am seriously procrastinating, and having visitors and reasons to road trip is helping/hurting. 

So!  BFGFAQ (big fat gnarly...you get it): It’s the political one.  From the Kiwis this usually comes in the form of “are you a Trump refugee?” or “what do you make of what’s going on over there?”  And even if it’s not an explicit question, how can I possibly answer the most frequent Q of all time -- “why did you move to New Zealand?” without considering how the political landscape of the US factored in?  I mean, you don't just up and move across the globe and leave a great place and a fabulous life without at least a mental checklist of pros and cons.  At least, most of us wouldn't.  And if you’re a grown-up (which we sadly have established that I am) and a contributing, aware, member of society (which I would argue that I am), your list must include considerations of the way your taxes are spent and people are treated in the place you live and how the outcomes of those things impact your lifestyle, your life, and the lives of other human beings.  Right? Right!  

MAJOR UPDATE:  A handful of days after I posted this, someone (likely an asshole white supremacist) shot and killed people in a CHCH mosque.  The city is still in lock down as I write this.  It is terrible and sad that  things like this happen anywhere, ever.  And I just want to say that as you read the ideas below, I’ll be watching closely the response of the NZ government.  

If there’s one thing that moving around the world to a place you’ve never been before, with a small family and no friends, and taking up a real life with a paycheck and a rent and a job does really well, it’s create an opportunity to reflect on the differences between where you were and where you are.  It also is extremely useful for considering, in a very real way, how the values you hold are (or are not) reflected in both a political system and a local way of living.  You really notice how political decisions, socioeconomic forces and cultural norms trickle into investments, infrastructure, bureaucracy, language, aesthetics, and interactions that impact you as you move through your day-to-day and learn how to get things done.  And because you’re an observer who is trying to become an insider, you may operate with less bias and pre- disposition to judge, more of a natural curiosity and interest in gathering information and then assimilating it and deciding over time. Chalk one up for perspective!  Happy to say this was the kind of experience and growth I hoped we’d all get through this adventure. 

Now, from the Americans this question usually comes in the form of something like “OMG, are you so glad you’re not here for this?” or “are public healthcare and lack of gun violence really as amazing as they seem from here?”.  Because, like me, most people I talk with on a regular basis feel something like this:

t least you do now, thanks to Willie Wonka’s and friend above, and this: 

So while I am not here in NZ without political bias or personal ideas of what’s right, wrong and important, I am more open minded to considering what’s good for this country and this context, and I have a stronger appreciation for the complexities of things all across the board since I’ve now gathered more data and had more experience. 

So, my American friends, in the interest of helping you draw some of your own conclusions, here is a segment I like to call Fact, Figures and Feelings:

America is amazing.  You have SO much of everything.  Including great food, tons of money, vast political power, and a really noticeable amount of homeless people.  I mean!  When I was in San Jose I felt so conflicted by both where to go for every meal and the fact that to get where I wanted to go I was uncomfortable with my own feelings and anxiety about possible conflict with the homeless and mentally ill folks I passed constantly. And it was often while I was walking into a convention center full of people trying to give away millions of dollars, listening to speakers who had made millions through technology. And while the dog adoption station on site and the furry friends in it made me feel a little better in the moment, could there be anything more cliche? Embarrassing. And yet is it fundamentally bad to have cute dogs making rich people feel good and maybe getting adopted?  No.  But it maybe uniquely American. 

Know what else you have a lot of, USA?  DRAMA.  Seriously.  The NZ morning news is usually about 25-50% reporting on the shitshow that is US and Brexit, and it turns out that when people say “if you get homesick, just listen to the news” they are correct.  

So what about NZ?  Well, when you live in a country with SO MANY FEWER (like so many!) people and a much smaller GDP, your reality is very different.  Not so loud.  Not so busy.  Not so many options. Much much simpler and frankly, it feels more sane. But we know the Mexican food sucks.  So... six of one/half dozen of the other?  This is what I am saying: I cannot tell you if Enchiladas and Aveda products make up for dealing with the opioid crisis if you’re seeing it every day, or if leaving Tito’s vodka and a much higher salary on the table is balanced out by the fact that police here in CHCH carried guns last week and this is how people think about it: 

FUN FACT: During the “summer holidays” (December-Jan), the morning news show on public radio literally went off air.  They replaced it with special summer programming, mostly dedicated to personal profiles and reviews of music and activities.  The only headlines they read each day were almost entirely about the US (shut downs) and UK (Brexit).  Apparently it’s possible for time off to extend to politics and news.  WOW.  Just notice how you feel about that. 

Now, NZ is certainly not the rainbows and unicorns utopia we liberals like to think a place with a public healthcare system and affordable education and far fewer guns will be -- there’s a growing imbalance in the distribution of wealth, the abortion laws are archaic, affordable housing is a big issue, nurses and teachers strike because they don’t get paid enough.

Politics was not the only motivator for our move, but we considered it -- sure seemed like a nice time to be out of the US, and it is.  It’s certainly not a clear #NZFTW-100% -they -nailed-it situation, though.  Every place and every system has its bad sides, and I have a lot to learn to really decide how the pros and cons balance out. All I know is that it’s really, really nice to be in a place where the political conversation is much simpler and more focused on politics and their outcomes on people than on hateful rhetoric. I am disappointed when I think of the lost opportunity due to the amount of resources you are wasting on unproductive, unkind conversations in the USA, when you have so much.  I feel bad for not being there to help stand up for the rights of people I believe in, but when you don't wake up angry every day at the headlines and the people you share space with, when the dialog is a little more open and productive, when the headlines are not so likely to be violent and sad, you start with a much better mental health baseline. You just can’t eat a great caesar salad whenever you feel like it, and it’s expensive as hell to leave the island and you don’t get paid enough to be able to do it often, which may really stress you out. For now, I’m really ok with it. But over time will the flaws in the NZ system (every system has them) outweigh the positive?  Do the opportunities in the US outweigh the negative? 

In the interest of letting you form some your own opinions: Take a look at the the top headlines of 2018 in New Zealand.  They include a pregnant PM; visits from Ed Sheeran, the Royals, and Obama; a handful of natural disasters; a bunch of news about other countries and sports; and the BIG BIG Drama which “unfolded over several deeply uncomfortable days” and ended in a minister being briefly admitted to a mental health facility and broad discussions about mental health.  Consider if the US was as concerned about its politicians’ mental health when they did crazy shit :-). 

Oh also, this is my CEO at work on Friday (hee hee): 

So far this year Lime Scooters (people get hurt on them, and people break the rules and double ride with no helmets -- gasp!) and the potential of a capital gains tax have been in the news pretty much daily. And that’s about it. Boring? Yes! Nice? Also yes! Did you know NZ is the only country in the OECD to not have a CGT? Are you impressed with my knowledge of initialisms? Worldly is the word you’re looking for to describe me.

I know, it looks like I am pooping on a trail, but I am actually doing squats mid-hike IN A SKIRT.  Probably gives me enough credibility to become a world leader, or at least present these numbers for your consideration: 

Now that you have something to think about -- because you weren't already thinking about politics enough (sorry!) -- let’s turn to a less political, but more important spiritual and philosophical topic: The Art of the Road Trip.

Pro tip: It’s easier to be a Road Trip Rembrandt with the right tools -- like these:

Mountains + Vans = Roadtrip Masterpiece

I think I mentioned in an earlier post that one of the things we’ve been doing a lot of is road tripping. Not so different from Seattle, eh? True. But since we can surf so close to the house and we have such a beautiful country to explore and a slightly less active social life, the road trips are more frequent and more varied.  As we are all happiest when we’re in the flow and hitting the right balance between challenge and success, I guess it makes sense.  Because if I do say so myself, we are damn good at the road trip, but there’s no way to have 2 to 6 people in a small space with a lot of stuff and a windy road ahead and podcasts and music to choose without challenge.

#vanlifeisthebestlife.

Here’s a map of where we’ve been on our travels thorough the country so far: 

So what’s the art of the road trip?  Composition: 

And the science?  One part great music, one part planning, and at least two parts having a sense of humor and joy about all the chaos. 

Like when there’s no where for you to sit: 

My most recent road trips were extra awesome due to the fact that Leslie Lapham (AKA Alex, AKA LL) was here and we took off on a few fun adventures. Now, Leslie is great for a lot of reasons and it was super fun to have her here for 5 weeks...and one of her best qualities, she takes great pictures!

Here’s what I like to say about our first trip:  it started with a bang and ended with a bee sting.  

Here’s the bang -- this is what happens when some dickhead decides to pass you on the right at high speed on a highway while you are TURNING RIGHT into a campground: 

So, that sucked.  Especially because aforementioned dickhead did not stop to see if we were ok, just left us there in the dark on our own. Luckily the Taupe Donkey was still drivable and packing enough duct tape to make it work.  So, off we headed from Kaikoura to make ourselves feel better in the vineyards and wineries of Marlborough.  

The Cloudy Bay Winery was not a bad place to spend an afternoon!  

Watson’s Way (not pictured) was a really weird place to spend a night though -- we were basically parked in a gravel parking lot in someone’s yard.  But man, did we have some good food! 

Although oops, I accidentally tried to take a grapevine as a souvenir.  And I swear this was before I even did a tasting!

After wine tasting and an amazing dinner at Arbor, we headed to the Marlborough Sounds, starting at Havelock, the mussel capital of the world!

We did a cool tour on the mailboat, which literally delivers mail, packages, animals, groceries, and god knows what else (possibly the odd tourist by accident?) to the residents of the remote 300 or so bays in the region, which can only be reached by boat. 

We ate a lot, of course.  But we ordered more than we could eat. 

After that we headed south on the inland route and camped overnight at the Tasman Lakes National Park.  

There were eels, pretty views, and random dock yoga.  

And last but definitely not least, we topped off the trip by meeting Jason at the always fabulous Hanmer Springs Thermal Pools.  What a drive to get there, too!  I did get stung by a bee while I was soaking, which was a total and pretty painful shock, despite the signs warning people to watch out for bees.  Little fuckers! 

After that, back to co-working and a couple weekends in CHCH:

Then...Lois!!! 

Now this blog is not about all the visitors and it’s already so long I dare not start going on about having Leslie and Lois here together.  Suffice it to say we had some fun times, some great food, and after 8 hours in the emergency room we did a quick road trip to Oamaru.  There were PENGUINS!!!!

There were penguins!!! We saw them waddle onto the beach at dusk after swimming 50K through the ocean all day.  Alas, you cannot take pictures of them, so you’ll have to settle for 3 Generations of Wachsmuth Women in the Wild until next time.  XO.