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popculturebuffet · 3 years

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Ducktales Final Four: Beaks in the Shell! or JESUS WEPT!

This.. this is a big occasion for me. It’s a return to regular Ducktales coverage.. but it’s also the first episode of the LAST four of the series. It was thanks to Ducktales my blog got a following, first through in character chat things, then through my reviews of this very season. It was starting this last year that took my blog from something I was passionate abbout but did ocassionaly to a vital part of my being and my source of income via one lucky boy who just wont’ let me stop! I kid of course, I thank kev for it, though i’d gladly welcome any other review comissions from you fine folks and fit them into the schedule. There’s a page on my blog for how and if your on mobile you can simply send me an ask or submit to ask about comissiong an episode or episodes of an animated shwo you like and i’ll give you my prices and what not. But it’s thanks to these Kev started comissioning in the first place and thanks to you all clicking on these reviews every week I do them that kept me doing them early on. So I wanted to thank you all.

Covering the last four episodes is really bittersweet for me. It’s not the end for ducks here: I have most of seasons 1 and 2 to cover, and will be covering a lot of season 1 next month so I can properly cover shadow war for my Lena retrospective, not to mention continuing to cover life and times when I have the space, various birthdays, including Carl Barks Next Month!, and so on and so on. But this is not only the first show I covered on a weekly basis but it’s the first show i’ve covered like that to end. To put it in perspective, Loud House won’t be leaving until it WANTS to and even then nick will probably prepare a second spinoff to follow it up in some form, Amphibia has both the rest of season 2 to go, starting next month!, and a third season renewal meaning while that probably WILL be it i’ll have had two full seasons to cover by the time it’s over, and I went into Close Enough FULLY expecting it not to make it past season 1 as it’s long and harried production cycle lead me to belivie Time-Warner was just going to dump it on HBO Max and be done with it.. and to my utter and everlasting delight the opposite has happened: It didn’t just get renewed but it’s become one of HBO Max’s most popular shows, the flagship of it’s adult animation lineup, and been given THREE more seasons, two of which are coming very soon, and likely will get as many as it wants for the forseable future.

The point is.. I went into covering Ducktales expecting at least one more season and genuinely not knowing if i’d make it thorugh covering this one, and once this started to really work out for me, to the point from doubting i’d EVER be able to set up a Patreon to having one that nets me ten dollars a month, feel free to contribute if you enjoy these reviews even a buck a month helps, honest. Plus thanks to that ten bucks a month i’ll be covering the five part 87 Ducktales pilot in April and if you get it up to ten i’ll cover super ducktales. But I wouldn’t even had one without these reviews giving me something to start with, and I figured they’d be around for a few more years, at least one more season. I didn’t think the show would just.. end with this season and while the season IS a proper final season of the show, wrapping up arcs, introducing long overdue cast additions, giving us the biggest and best overarching plot thus far.. a good final season dosen’t make it hurt any less. But as a wise Synthizoid once said...

It hurts it’s going.. I wasn’t prepared for it.. but it’s giving us one hell of a last act, and if this episode is any indication, just because the end is in sight dosen’t mean the last few eps before the finale are phoning it in. This is the end... so now i’ve got my emotional stuff and the weight behind it out of the way, for now i’m defintely going to be bawling come the finale and I’m not ashamed, we can dive into the begining of the end. Counting down.. because really when else am I going to get to use this...

We’re at four and under the cut it’s beaks in the shell. Let’s get dangerous.

We open with a crime in progress as Gandra is stealing a thing for FOWL and Fenton has shown up on the scene to stop her as you’d expect.. along with Huey the boy wonder! He’s finally Fenton’s Sidekick!

Seriously it’s just so sweet to see this little payoff, to see Huey, after talking about it and clearly wanting to assit Fenton however he can, actually participate. Granted he dosen’t have an armor, yet, of his own, but still he’s been through enough stuff to be helpful> plus, Gyro’s reaction to Fenton trying to ge the resources for another gizmosuit was...

Gandra trips up his wheel, and im with 87 Scrooge in Ducktales Remastered, which I finally got to play recently! Horay!, what WAS gyro thinking with that design. Regardless she gets away, and our heroes return the loot off screen. Good day’s crime fighting.

Except something’s off with Fenton as he’s been working extra late lately and lying to both Gyro and Ma’Ma about it with both suspcious, Gyro because he dosen’t like not knowing things and especially not knowing what his former intern’s up to because he’s a bit of a control freak.. and because he probably can’t go visit his new clone farm and work on speeding up the process of his replacement bodies after moonvasion used em all up without Fenton finding out as he’d tell Scrooge and Scrooge would be like “Stop playing God in ways that could get me a steep fine!”. It’d be a whole thing. The fact Fenton’s also using their now shared intern in Manny and neither is telling him why probably isn’t helping and i’ts only that workplace harassment seminar that keeps him from trying to strangle either of them again. That and Manny dosen’t have a neck.

Ma’Ma is more upset that not only is he lying to her again, more on that later, but .. that she’s figured out he has a new girlfriend and understandably thinks there’s some dark reason he’s not telling her, and unlike Gyro turns out she’s two for two. I mean she is a detective while Gyro is more worried about his clone army, his man horse and his robot son. I mean the last two are valid but still Mama just has to worry about her job and her socially awkward adult son. She has more time to focus on this.

But yes, not only is Fenton seeing someone.. but it’s Gandra again. A bit abrubt but honestly this isn’t the first Fenton episode to move his life fast.. and frankly i’m more lenient on final seasons, or seasons INTENDED to be the last ones in terms of offscreen stuff, as your trying to get everything you can wrapped up in the span of 13-24 episodes depending on how lucky you get, if not less. Sometimes you just gotta use a reveal and some exposition to hurry things along and if presented right it works.. and here it is a while the summary for this episode spoiled the reveal, i’ts still subtly dramatic that not only has hef ully forgiven her.. but their together.. despite the fact she still works for fowl. Wuh-oh. After the credits we get an idea of what their working on, as Fenton used the gizmoduck suit to enter some kind of VR scape. This is the Gizmoscape! It’s a vast virtual reality landscape.. that looks like a fancy version of the VR Interface from community. Marble pillars, flowing water falls. Though ironically enough Jim Rash’s character is NOT a part of it and despite Fenton suggesting letting him in to help with their glitch problem she’s reluctant as it’s THEIR baby and she wants it to be perfect first before they allow other people in. Though i’m also sure part of it is that Gyro would start screaming JESUS WEPT! over and over.

Meanwhile Mark Beaks is having a big flashy press confrence to announce the new Waddlephone. Only a 50% chance of exploding! And that’s not my dig at Samsung but the shows as that’s really Beaks sales pitch. Unsuprisingly only one VERY bored looking nerd is there at the confrence. As for why he’s finally fallen so low part of it is explalined in the episode: His attempted thefts of the Gizmoduck suit have gotten stale. As the bored nerd puts it he’s tried to steal it four times already, two that we’ve seen but i’m VERY unsuprised he’s tried again off screen. He’s made it PAINFULLY clear he has no ideas of his own, constantly steals them, and the public’s tired of it. As for why it took THIS LONG.. this is sadly realistic. As the throngs of “hardcore gamers” defending Cyberpunk 2077 before it was released can attest to, internet nerd culture can often be toxic, stupid and defend big personalities even when they’ve CLEARLY done something terrible as long as their doing something they like. Beaks was clearly pilfering enough good products and doing enough antics on social media to still be liked and for them to ignore his blanat and douchey crimes and had enough money on him during said crimes to walk away from it.

Problem is.. while people can be awful and defend someone despite them not deserving their loyality, being a douche in public and doing VERY terrible things.. you have to have something to earn that loyalty. Waddle had that at first iwth project ta-dah, Waddleduck, various aps i’m sure... but it’s clear from context by this point Beaks has nothing left and no cult of personality to insulate him. Unlike say Bill Gates or Jeff Bezos he dosen’t HAVE some big product to mask his shadier wealth hoarding actions, he just has rampat supervilian attempts to steal someone else’s power armor and a hired hyjacking to get back at his cold unloving mother. Even when he does supervillian stuff like that.. he can’t be bothered to do it originally. The public will, and very sadly, defend you from terrible stuff, we’ve seen it with people supproting Gina Carano even though she’s actively spreading harmful disnfermation and then had the GALL to compare herself to jews hiding from the nazis, and one journalist trying to defend her had the gall to compare this to the hollywood blacklisting if the 50′s instead of you know, someone who woudln’t shut up about harmful dangerous shit finally getting fired for using teh platform said job provided to spread said harmful dangerous shit about masks and the vacine. But if you have nothing to offer.. thieri just going to forget you and move on. He has nothing to offer so they’ll gladly gravitate to some other jackass who can at leasat given them a neat phone instead of trying to steal a superhero suit for the 8th time. Mark realizes if he can’t steal something soon.. he’ll be forced to go with the Nuclear option: MAKE SOMETHING HIMSELF.

Back at Fenton’s toilet lab, Huey finds Fenton having some cyber makeouts with Gandra... which translates to him kissing the air and Huey feeling evne more awarkd than usual. As for why Huey’s here despite it being late, he got a piece of Gandra’s nanotech during the robbery and figures they can track her. Fenton is.. less than enthused about that for obvious reasons but things soon get worse for our hero as our other hero notices the linkup. And while sidekicks are a good thing in my eyes; They allow young heroes to get proper training, help nuture their talents and prevent assholes from telling them to stop it instead of you know helping them. It’s.. a more common trope than you think let me tell you.

But Fenton’s discovered the Downside is they can show up anytime, want to hunt your criminal girlfriend down not knowing the full story, and if their a genius like you, figure out what your up to with no effort and really want to try it. Seriously Huey’s almost as smart as you Fenton and will no doubt surpass you one day, this was a matter of when not if and you shouldv’e been more prepared. But Huey wants to try, and while Fenton tries deflecting since he only has the gizmoduck helmet and it only works for him now... Manny comes in with a bunch of vr rigs and Huey dives in. Naturally, Huey soon running directly into Gandra dosne’t go great.. and given this is huey his natural instinct is to have a panic attack over his best friend, mentor and the only person besides maybe his family, boyfriend and girlfriend that really gets him possibly betraying him and his entire family. Gandra is of course mad Fenton invited someone in when she didn’t want that, and even more someone whose clearly not happy with her and will likely tell on them because that’s basic hue-man nature.

Fenton explains he didn’t ask for this, so we get easily the best part of the episode: Gandra’s solution to the child having a mental breakdown.. is to summon a weighted blanket and throw it over him, which Huey mistakes for a trap and she explains helps with Anxiety.. and while he struggles.. it really does. Damn gotta get me one of those. Also while his Autisim remains vauge, likely on puprose, Huey having anxiety disorder, while obvious before, is now 100% confirmed.

So now he’s calm, though his Anxiety meter shows he’s still not happy and Gandra doubts he’ll listen, Fenton can at least try and explain: The two have been seeing each other and working on this in secret.. but it has NOTHING to do with FOWL other than Gandra embezzling resoruces to make it happen. Gandra also explains why the project is so important to her and Fenton via her own backstory: Super Science is a dangerous, unrpedictable field and accidents happen a lot, and given people tend to hate what they don’t understand, hence why the X-Men founded their own island after getting spat on one too many times, it often gets an unfair bad wrap.. and she shows she’s had to put up with this her whole life, making an intresting lazer thing as a kid that lost to a volcano and getting glared at for it accidently destroying said volcano. And as an adult due to her work’s dangerous and experimental nature, no one would take a chance on it and like many a super villian she had to experiment on herself. It’s also why she worked for Beaks last season and works with FOWL now, only supervillians with thier grandiose ambitions and lack of care for property damage would fund her.

That’s part, at least, of why this is so very important to her: The Gizmoscap eprovides an invorment where scientests and others can experiment unabated, where the only limit is imagination and those glitches they keep having and any accident can be frozen , dragged and dropped away with no damage. There’s no risk but all the reward and they plan to give it out for free, to let the public use this and let the world grow from it.

It also fills in a lot of Gandra’s character and gives weight to her last apperance: Her working with Beaks, while hypocritical, now has a tragic edge as he was simply the only one who’d fund her work. Her hatred of Fenton’s corprroate job and people like Scrooge.. is that in general billionares like him usually aren’t good people, and even SCrooge has his clear faults, and she assumed he was just making Fenton shut up and do things just to beniefit him and make him more money.. when Scrooge was instaead paying him to do a genuine public service as gizmoduck, and gives him and Gyro a LOT of leway and a pretty bottomless budget and only turns things down if their way too dangeorus for public release. The tragedy here is if she’d gone to Scrooge.. she never would’ve had to work for FOWL. He wouldd’ve genuinely supported her and likely given her a full ride and a spot in the lab of her own, maybe as an intern but probably on her own merit given how game changing her tech is and how he of all people understands a ballance of risk and reward. It turns her from a very hypcoriticla techie who works with the very people she scorns.. to someone who has no choice and desperatley wants out. And this is her way out: something new and bold that’, while not hers alone as Fenton co created it, could change the world and make it safe for people like her to do what they do without ridcule, scorn or risk. It’s everything she could’ve dreamed of and more and once it’s done she promises to leave fowl and as the end of the episode bares out, and as her tone makes clear, she’s genuine about it. She also TRULY does love fenton and vice versa and both are desspearte for Huey to keep a lid on things from Gyro till it’s ready, as she rightfully worries if it gets out unfisnished they’ll just be mocked agian. Naturally being a good soft boy Huey is now entirely on board, because he loves science, and he loves love and this is both. And frankly given what we saw way back in Astro BOYD... .he knows more than anyone what its like to be laughed at and mocked for being diffrent and simply being smart. And even though his family lvoes him.. only one member is as smart as him in the same way, his mom whose still a very diffrent person, and it wasn’t till this season he really got to connect with people his own age like him. And both Violet and BOYD could benifit form this.. everyone could. So he’ll keep it secret for now. This proves problematic as both Gyro AND Mama are there and both have questions. And while Huey ducks gyro, Mama.. interrogates a small child who she’s defintely met and likely knows has anxiety over something as trivial as her son having a secret girlfrined. You.. you guys might’ve wanted to remove this bit given last year. I”m just saying. Does not play well. The most Huey can come up with is a girlfriend in Canada which fenton plays along with... but given neither her nor gyro are really buying into things, though Mama has a check done on seamstresses in canada just in case because this bit was clearly written years ago and not rerecorded for whatever reason, Huey uses little bulb to fake a gizmo emergency so Fenton can get out of there, go home and work on this himself while Huey stalls and lies. But since his best on the fly lie was “a girlfriend in canada”, which is somehow worse than “who’s Dewey”, and while our boy is many things: excellent at opera, a good friend, a wonderful wingman, excellent at setting a mood, a good son, great at panic attacks, a genius, an expert woodchuck, knowledgeble on quantum mechanics.. the list goes on lying is not one of those things and he seems to be in a pickle.

Meanwhile Mark is struggling to create, can relate, because he’s entirely creatively sterile. And that’s probably why out of Scrooge’s foes.. he stopped being a threat. He has no vision. And while true the Beagle BOys also don’t besides steal stuff and maybe get our deed back, that’s by design as Ma knows they can’t take scrooge or gizmoduck so why cry. Stick to petty crimes and stuff he isn’t aware of or dosen’t care about. But Magica and Glomgold do. Magica is cunning, if not subtle, and manipulative and when on full blast horrifyingly powerful, and it took everything Clan McDuck had to stop her at full, and she still nearly won without any powers when she came back, and even if Lena can keep her in check now, she still GOT her powers back and got her new arch enemy to defeat her old one. Glomgold while only slightly more comipitent than beaks, and even then VERY slightly, he at least has vision. His schemes are entirely stupid.. but he dosen’t stop coming up with them. They may be his first draft but damn if they aren’t entertaining and damn if one or two haven’t WORKED. Simply stealing a few cents from scrooge and gaslighting him in a devil costume NEARLY drove him insane and cost him his fortune. Beaks.. has no ideas. He has ambiation.. but it’s to steal the same tech that even if he got it, he woudln’t know what to do with. The ONLY time he’s been a full on threat has been using someone else’s scheme, that Gandra clearly came up with and STILL required piggybacking on the gizmo suit. He has nothing and while it was fine for a while.. eventually h’es left iwth nothing. Glomgold at least has money, magica at least has power... Beaks HAD both.. but had no idea what to properly do with it and now is on his last legs. Even his idea for a coffee cups with aps is taken because of course “even the dumbest ideas are taken”, this is america. Making dumb shit for rich morons is our primary export. But he sees the fleeing fenton, has a breakdown and declares FINE if that’s what fate wants i’ll steal the armor I’LL STEAL THE ARMOR ALL DAY.

So Fenton heads home to recharge in both senses of the word, and to tell Gandra the timetable’s moved and Huey can hold them only so long. And he seems to be wrong as Huey confidently prepares to answer their questions.. but is seemingly thrown when we get the real reason Mama is so upset: She’s just worried and still a bit hurt from Fenton not feeling he could tell her he was gizmoduck and it breaks her heart that her son feels he has to hide from her again. However while this is genuinely sad and emotional.. the reason he’s thrown is it’s NOT huey, but Louie, whose a bit miffed as he DIDN’T know Fenton was Gizmoduck, and can’t properly bullshit without full info. it’s also really nice that bit FINALLY came up as the rest of the four main kids have known for a while now. But Huey convincnes him to do it.. for 6 months allowance. Frankly the real shocker here is that they actually GET an allowance.

However Mama.. is again a cop. One who REALLY needs to rethink her ethics.. but a cop, and the best one on the force, and thus has easily guessed this is not Huey, and given she’s probably ran into his schemes before, figures out which one he’d bring in to buffer for him and easily gets rid of Louie by asking him to tur informant on himself, since the REAL Huey would under pressure and Louie instead flees in terror not wanting to get arrested and leaves both the lab and the episode. Though I’m pretty sure i know where he went

So yeah things are not great and only get worse, as Mark breaks into fentons house via the open window and upon finding out abotu the Gizmoscape naturally plans to hack into it and take it for himself. Before he does Fenton talks to Gandra and admits they may have to let other people in and we get another reason: She’s worried she’s not good enough. He reassures her.. and this tender moment is interupted by Beaks who imprisons them, hyjacks fenton’s security system aka a gizmo armor, and while still a creatively sterile douche, does have a decent if horrifically scummy way to profit all of this: use the open coloabreation concept to get the legal right to steal all this and say it’s his.

Fenton bemaons the fact that Gandra was right, one bad apple spoiled the bunch and unveling it too qiuckly would’ve gone bad as she feared.. but Gandra’s grown and realizes Fenton was also right, and that they needed more people. While the wrong people can ruin a project, collaboration can help, finding perspectives you didn’t see and helping fine tune ideas. Huey, whose collapsed at Fenton’s due to the exustion of lying, wakes up to find Beaks crimes and being unable to just unplug him, as while Beaks is VERY dumb, even he’s not THAT stupid. But Fenton gets out an SOS over morse to tell everyone So Huey does.. and the calvary arrives, as Huey enters the Gizmoscape with Mama and Gyro. And while Mama is pleased to realize she’s right about the girlfirend thing they don’t really have time for that, so once Huey explains the basic concept, he uses it himself to give himself GIZMO ARMOR. AT LAST.

He also has extra long legs, because of course, just.. of course. Naturally Beaks steals it, and everyone else takes a stab at their own gizmotech armor: Mama daawns a stunning police themed one, Gyro goes for a bulb mecha based on the giant version of little bulb from the great dime chase, an idea brought up by LB, and Gandra goes for a sleek tron esque nanotech number. Beaks take sa bit from each and our heroes wonder how to beat him.. but Fenton realizes that’s simple: Beaks can only copy and steal... they can create. And Gandra uses this against him by pointing that out so he drops his super armor.. to look like Andross from Starfox.. which shows that EVEN when trying to come up with a cool final boss form... Beaks has to steal from something. The rest of the Gizmo Corps, my name for them I own that, Gizmo Legion would also be good, after Iron Man’s iron Legion, suit back up and kick beaks ass as a team. I smell second spinoff.. or first if darkwing ends up hyjacked by Seth Rogen.. who I have nothing agianst he’s just not the one who put in the work for a reboot.

So our heroes win in an awesome sequence, seirously spinoff and Beaks is knocked the fuck out and presumibly will FINALLY go to jail for good to this as he can get away from a lot but directly breaking into an officer’s house and stalking her son, they can omit the gizmopart and even if Fenton went public.. no one would care and he and Mama can take care of htemselves, as can Huey, Gyro, Gandra and Manny, so it’s not like anyones in danger. Beaks is well and truly defeated: he has no idea, an imminet jail sentence, and no one to back him up. Fenton’s finally got the little boil off his back

So now the big fight is over, Gyro can actually process the Gizmoscape.. and is genuinely impressed.. he tries to hidei t because of course he does.. but it’s clear for someone who himself has constnatly been called crazy and had his ideas blow up.. this is paradise to him. a place where he won’t be judged and has unlimtied funds to experiment with his ideas without having to get yelled at when they destroy a city block or nearly choked to death by his own robot son, daughter or nonbinary person. He also easily fixes the problem and proves Fenton right for wanting to include him, as he points out they hadn’t been DELETING anything, simply downsizing it and it naturally caused stress on the server. Fenton talks about Gandra and defneeds her to Mama.. whose just happy he’s happya nd someone can take her son. Alls well that ends well right.

Final Thoughts: So this was a... wait.. why are we cutting back to fowl.. why is bradford there.

Yeah turns out megalmanoical diabolical msterminds kinda monitor their employees so he knew she intended to quit and stole resources, and while she plans to leave, he simply calls in a bunch of eggheads who overwhelm her with sheer numbers and has her fined two weeks pay.. and taken to the lost library to indefintely lock her up. What’s that she asks “You have your secrets, I have mine”

So yeah a bit of a downer ending

Actual Final Thoughts:

This was an excellent capper to Fenton’s character arc. While the Gandra relationsihp is a bit rushed the rest is a masterful capper to his character arc: This episode shows off how he’s changed from EVERY one of his previous three focus episodes, while a major part of astro boyd and how he got his docterate it dosne’t quite contribute to his character arc, and grown from them: From beware the buddy system! he’s learned to colaberate properly and taken his desire to WORK with other people, like he always did with Gyro but was constnatly shut out, and found a proper and brilliant way to that allows people like him, gyro, gandra and huey to really express themselvs. He’s grown from a niave rookie trusting the wrong people in who is gizmoduck.. to someone whose STILL fully trusting despite constant betryals, but now knows who to trust, and an experinced hero who once freed easily counters his nemisis. And finally from Dangerous Chemistry, he’s finally got a ballance in his life: inastead of running from gizmo or treating his alter ego as something else.. he’s found a way to use the gizmotech for science, and FINALLY found his world changing invention one so good and so practical even his mentor, despite trying to walk it back, is genuinely proud of him and genuinely in awe.

Every step lead to his happy ending.. well okay his girlfriend still needs to be freed from her insane ex-boss, but that’s just a few episodes away. Fenton has everything he wanted when he started: his boss finally respects him and treats him as an equal, his mom not only knows who he is but is proud and supportive of him, he has a loving partner creatively and romantically.. and a best friend who while a good two decades younger, is there for him and who he genuinely apologizes too for putting so much on him. LIke all the endings so far this season.. it feels like a throughly satisfying end to the journey we’ve been following. This fits in nicely with Penny realizing earth could be her home and that she dosen’t have to constnatly fight to have a purpose, Lena finally accepting magic instead of running from it and thus gaining peace of mind and power to stop her former abuser from hurting anyone else, Goldie finally accepting how much she cars about Scrooge and his family and that she CAN change... all of this, except penny obviously has been built up through three seasons and while I DEFINTLY could see frank and matt returning to all of them.. i’ts nice to get some closure. It feelsd earned and impressive. The episode is also.. REALLY fucking funny, from the weighted blanket gag to Beaks in general, to Huey yelling at fenton about Mama “She somehow broke Louie!”. It’s a masterful and throughly satisfying end to Fenton’s story. And again we’ll likely see him in the finale but character arc wise.. its a good place to end his.

Next Week: FINALLY, AFTER 10,000 YEARS, IT’S THE TAILSPIN EPISODE. OWEEOOO, OWEEHHHH.

Tommorow: We return to the noiry furry world of John Blacksad as everyone’s favorite panther detective battles white supremacists to find a missing girl and we’re introduced to your faviorite sidekick and mine Weekly.

Later on this week: The Lena retrospective continues with Jaw$, we celebrate Tex Avery’s birthday, and I tackle the awful original tom and jerry movie.

So if any of that tickles your fancy see you at the next rainbow

#ducktales #beaks in the shell!#beaks in the shell #fenton crackshell cabrera #gandra dee #huey duck #mark beaks #gyro gearloose #mama cabrera #little bulb #manny the headless manhorse #gizmoduck #ducktales spoilers

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losersmanifesto · 3 years

Text

Hey fam, I’m Kyler and I’m new to this world.

The goal for this tumblr is for me to figure my shit out. I was going to blog about each element independently in order to compartmentalize, encourage dialogues, find community, and hopefully hate myself less, but instead I wrote too much, as usual. Please consider responding or DMing if any of this resonates with you.

The following points are given:

- CAFAB for context and 35.

- I’ve considered myself ace a long time. Have had two long-term, committed relationships with women, but have been single and untouched by humans for like eight years. It wasn't on purpose. I think I'm cute enough and nice enough and funny enough etc, but i keep getting into these limerence-type infatuations for years at a time that are just reciprocated enough by the closeted other personthat I foolishly think I have hope, and have no eyes for anyone else. Then, you know, eight years pass somehow.

- Identified as deeply closeted lesbian since age 10. Was in love with most of my female teachers. Obsessed with having good grades, making people proud, being loved. Never dreamed of coming out because that would go against all that. Thought I was a boy in a girls body at age 13 having never heard of trans people. Came out as lesbian in trickles until I finally told my mom at age 28. Throughout this time, I eventually came to consider myself half-female, half-male, but still hadn't heard of non-binary. Once I heard of it, I knew that was the thing I was, but didn't feel I needed to do anything because I hate when people mention my appearance. Recently zoomed with some old classmates and one kept saying “ladies” referring to us and I just couldn’t let it be like this anymore.

- My ideal gender presentation would be to have nice boobs, be pretty muscular, and microdose t until my voice stops sounding like a cartoon girl child. I haven't found many others who idealize that aesthetic. I'm not courageous enough for any of it though because i absolutely hate when people comment on anything about my appearance, especially changes I make. this is one of the reactions I feel to the world that my therapist has pointed out is congruent with neurodiversity. I've got a few like that. Since I’ve always dressed like a 13 year old boy, I feel like I’m crossdressing if I do anything female-coded, which is also a mindfuck. It means I feel like everything I wear besides jeans and a hoodie is gonna raise questions.

- so ironically, the thing that hypes me up most about all my kink is is the thing I fear most. I love the thought of someone changing gradually over time and everyone commenting and speculating. Im a sucker for stories of people going out in public clearly like 10 months pregnant and people rubbing their belly and them making moaning noises and then the first person asking how far they are alongside so on. All the while knowing it’s sort of public yet secret expression of kink. This applies to people taking hormones in secret too or gaining tons of weight or steroids. I do not know a term for this but seek it constantly.

- I’m trying to reconcile my kink with my ace identity, knowing if any of you who share my kink from the other side quarantined for two weeks and met up with me, I’d probably pull a 180. But only for that scenario or my rare limerences.

- I set my pronouns to they/them at work, which means everyone sees it prominently any time they engage with me. No one has used them. Yet I don’t want my family to because of the faces and effort and smugness they’d have.

- I’m not telling my most interesting story on here since I don’t want anyone who knows me to figure out who I am, but I’ll share if you dm me and consider telling me yours.

I guess I’ll start there. Thanks for existing and hopefully engaging. I’ll consider this post a success if I make a friend or two out of it.

#asexual #ace #agender #nonbinary #bellykink #transition #ftx #elder millennial #fake pregnant belly #nb lesbian #i am a mess #self conscious #stealth #genderfuck #alien #mpreg kink #fpreg #self discovery #low self everything

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pureheroin · 3 years

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idk 12/24

today was my dogs birthday, and i tried to do my best to give him a great first birthday because my parents did such a horrible job doing so for almost any of my birthdays, but then i remembered he is just a dog and this is probably just like any other day for him. i have been feeling so incredibly horrible about my body, even more so though normal recently. i feel like i cannot take a single full breath in because i have been binge eating so excessively recently that my stomach gets in the way just when i am trying to inhale. continues to deep sigh. i ate two family size bag of potato chips and two chocolate bars within the past 36 hours. i literally dont know what the fuck is wrong with me. i need this to pass, but then i think about how i go through such intense phases of eating healthy or somewhat healthy before falling back into a binging phase where all of my ‘progress’ goes down the drain. sigh. i feel like i have tried to explain this to my boyfriend, who i love so dearly, but it just feels so wrong to try and explain stuff like this to my partner (even though i want him to know me, this just feels extremely private and a bit like i am also facing some kind of imposter syndrome, are any of my problems real (rhetorical question), am i actually facing these issues lmao). idk i wish my hobbies were something i could do something with but then once i try and do something i enjoy it feels like i am succumbing to the terrorizing capitalistic society we live in america today that wants me oh so badly to be a fucking part of (fuck u capitalism) and that is a whole other (and primary reason for me being so fucking overwhelmed constantly). anyways i refuse to take antidepressants because one of my biggest fears is gaining weight which is really fucking sad that i cant love my body enough (again, no response needed to this part, im not a fucking dumbass) and that i am have become such an easy pawn in this game of society the government and corporations have created for me. theres this horrifying path of hating my body that has been painted for me and it is the biggest reason i am constantly battling these same goddamn thoughts every fucking day of my life. anyways, happy bday roman, hopefully ill finish this dress i need to sew before i get bombarded with dumb shit i have to do and people i need to ‘see’. (i wish i could be left the fuck alone for like 3 months before anyone try and talk to me again). also one last thing, if u see me or a random person in public literally leave me the FUCK alone like holy fucking shit i dont want to talk to you just because i am at a dog park with my dog like dont fucking give me ur life fucking story at least if u are a fucking r*p*bl*c*n like i do not want to fucking hear it and u can get the fuck away from me. anyways again idk what this was but tbh it kinda felt ggod to type out xoxo love u sza ty for the new song bye

#gay

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icyharrington · 5 years

Text

Is It Wrong?- Part 7 (Michael Langdon X Reader)

hello!!! so i have been trying so hard these past few weeks trying to get this final part of iiw right. i am insanely nervous to put this out there, because i don’t wanna disappoint any of the amazing people who followed this series from the beginning. i wanna thank all the thirsty hoes who have supported this fic and given me feedback, because y’all are the reason i had the motivation to finish the series. this is the most fun i’ve ever had writing anything, ever. i can’t believe this series is finally coming to an end 🤧BUTTTTT don’t forget that there will be an additional, shorter epilogue chapter! so stay tuned for that ;) I LOVE Y’ALL!!!!

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships, fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, teen angst, like seriously A FUCK TON OF TEEN ANGST, fluff, vaginal fingering, handjobs, sexual intercourse, (semi?) public sex, dirty talk

word count: 12.8k (IM SORRY LMFAOOO)

tags: @alicecooper19 @ritualmichael @blackfyrez @bbyduncan @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @michaelsapostle @trelaney @kissydevil @langdonalien @langdonsdemon @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @wroteclassicaly @cocosfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @sodanova @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @prophesieddarling @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @lvngdvns @hisgirlwonder @telexnesis @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @anacerta @nuke-em-from-orbit @thingsthatoncemeantnothing @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @imjustasadhoe @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @littlehouseofleaves @elvahavax @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @alternativepetewentz @maytheforcebewithqueen

(sorry to anyone who asked to be tagged but isn’t in my tag list!! tumblr won’t let me tag certain blogs for some reason!!)

“Goddamn it, how hard is it for you to follow simple GPS directions?” Miriam’s voice was pitched in annoyance as she scolded your father, whose knuckles were near white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

“You know what? Why don’t I just pull over, and you drive instead?” your father snapped. You and Michael exchanged a glance in the back seat for what seemed like the thousandth time since you’d all loaded into the car several hours before.

In celebration of summer vacation, and you and Michael’s recent graduation from high school, your father and Miriam had decided to arrange something of an impromptu vacation. Your father was far too cheap to travel anywhere of any significant distance, so he’d decided that the next best option was to take a road trip down to Myrtle Beach, Florida.

“Oh my god, yes,” Michael had said to you after your parents had broken the news to you both. “Do you know how many half-naked sluts we’re gonna see there? Myrtle Beach is like, white trash central.”

That comment had been the fuel for one of the many arguments you and Michael had engaged in following graduation; there was tension in the air, hanging thick and heavy over your heads as the days crept along, and the mindless bickering between you and Michael was at an all time high.

Not that it stopped either of you from having sex. Quite the contrary, in fact— you and Michael had been having so much sex that it was maybe even getting a little ridiculous.

“Seriously, Michael?” you’d said after his crude comment, your tone far whinier than originally intended. “Go fuck one of those half-naked white trash sluts instead of me, then.”

It’d taken him several minutes to convince you that he’d been joking (even though you were still fairly certain that he’d been dead serious) followed by some admittedly top-quality make up sex, which proved to be enough to convince you to move on.

Maybe something was in the water, you thought. Even Miriam and your father had seemed to be fighting constantly as of late, and the stressful atmosphere of the household made you feel constantly on edge; it almost felt like there was an impending disaster coming, one that was impossible to prevent. You only hoped that whatever disaster might be on its way would avoid you and Michael.

Right now, Michael was leaning with his forehead resting against the window, a bored look on his face as he skipped through the music playing on his phone. He only had one earbud in, the other draped over his shoulder (presumably so he could eavesdrop on your parents’ ridiculous arguments), dressed casually in light gray sweatpants and a faded Jimi Hendrix shirt.

Fuck, he looked good. He was jostled slightly with each slight motion of the car as it moved forward, the muscles in his arms subtly flexing as he reached up to run his fingers through his soft, tousled blond hair. For a second, your mind was clouded with images of a beach-bound Michael, his tanned, water-speckled torso lean but still toned, swimming trunks clinging to the lowest point of his narrow hips and leaving almost nothing up to the imagination. Your mouth watered.

“You know, if I’d driven, we would’ve actually arrived at the hotel by the time the GPS said,” Miriam said.

“So why didn’t you!?” your father exclaimed.

You locked eyes with Michael yet again, whose pale eyes glimmered with slight amusement at the nonstop back-and-forth between your parents.

“Because you insisted on driving.”

“Insisted? All I did was offer to drive out of the kindness of my— oh fuck, I think we just passed the hotel.”

“We did,” offered Michael flatly from the backseat, the soft glow of the neon hotel sign reflecting in his pupils as he craned his neck to follow the building.

“Goddamn it,” your father muttered, scanning the road for somewhere to make a U-turn.

“Nice going,” Miriam muttered under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

You were jerked forward as your father abruptly turned the car around in an act that you were ninety-nine percent sure was illegal; in a matter of seconds, the car was parked in the hotel parking lot, officially marking the end of the several-hour-long trek. Everyone seemed to let out a unanimous sigh of relief.

“Fucking finally,” said Michael, opening the door and swinging his legs outside so his ratty Converse sneakers made contact with the asphalt. You followed suit, making your way around to the trunk, which you popped open to retrieve your colorful travel bag.

The sound of crickets chirping through the mild Florida night was soothing despite its incessantness, and you found yourself smiling idly, a warm breeze gently caressing your face. So maybe you weren’t in the goddamn Dominican Republic, but you were still prepared to enjoy your time here.

Once everyone had taken their respective belongings from the trunk, your father led the way to the front entrance of the hotel.

The hotel lobby was nice, but certainly nothing special; it didn’t take a genius to figure out that the sole reason your father had chosen this place above all others was because it was the cheapest. Your father, weighed down with his overstuffed black bag, trudged over to the front desk with a pained look on his face.

“Imagine this place is infested with roaches,” said Michael lowly, flashing you a shit-eating grin when your face paled at this terrifying prospect.

“Shut up. My dad isn’t that much of a cheapskate.”

“Or what if it’s haunted?” he said, furrowing his brows to mimic a deadly serious expression.

“It’ll be haunted by your ghost in about five seconds if you don’t shut your mouth.”

“I saw this thing online about a girl who went missing, and then they found her in the water tower of the hotel,” he continued, and you rolled your eyes. It wasn’t at all surprising that he was trying to scare you. “And like, all the people staying there were showering and stuff, but little did they know they were washing themselves in dead body water.”

“Can you shut up, please?”

His plump lips contorted into a devious smile. “What, am I scaring you?”

“No, you’re just being really fucking annoying.”

“Aww, don’t worry, (y/n). I’ll protect you from any ghosts or cockroaches that might be here.” He pulled you into a side hug, squeezing you against him with an iron grip as he nuzzled the top of your head with his chin. You pulled away, exerting minimal strength but still managing to evade his grasp.

“Are you going to be this obnoxious the entire trip?” you said, watching as your father appeared to be looking for something in his pockets. After patting himself down for several seconds, he said something to the man behind the front desk; whatever it was that he’d said resulted in Miriam’s face contorting into a look that could easily kill anyone three times over.

“Here we go,” Michael whispered, mouth twitching at the corners as he averted his attention away from you and onto your parents instead.

“You’re an idiot,” Miriam was saying, practically seething as she spoke. “A goddamn idiot. How the hell did you manage to forget the credit card?!”

Your father’s mouth opened and closed as he attempted to come up with a response good enough to satiate his fuming wife, but of course there was none.

“How did he forget the credit card?” Michael said.

You shrugged.

Miriam huffed loudly as she began to dig through her purse, shooting your father a contemptuous glare when her hand emerged, leather wallet in tow. You watched as she pulled out her credit card, handing it over the front desk to the visibly uncomfortable man standing there.

You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the muscles in your arms starting to burn from the weight of your travel bag.

Michael, having apparently lost interest in your parents’ altercation, suddenly turned back to face you. “You think I’ll be able to pass for over 21 at the hotel bar?”

Before you could respond, your father was making his way over to you, brandishing two key cards in either hand. “We decided it’d be best for all of us if you and Michael had your own room. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

He handed you a card, and as you looked it over, you tried your hardest not to pay any attention to Michael.

It was truly astounding how clueless everyone seemed to be in regards to your relationship (if you could call it that) with your stepbrother, but you definitely weren’t complaining. Just the thought of having a room all to yourselves was enough to make your heart race.

“Of course we don’t mind,” you said with a smile.

“Just— y’know. Miriam and I have some things we need to work out, and, well, I don’t want you guys swept up in any of the drama,” said your father.

“Totally understandable, dad,” said Michael, beaming as he snaked his free arm around your shoulders. “I’m sure we’ll be able to manage. What do you think, (y/n)?”

Michael widened his eyes at you, the contorted features of his porcelain face dripping with faux-innocence.

“Yeah, I think so,” you said, tone cheerful and sweet.

In unison, you and Michael looked away from one another and back to your father. His eyes were shadowed with deep rings, and he looked more like he was about to head off to a 9-to-5 shift at a dead-end job rather than a vacation with his family. “You kids be good, all right?”

“Don’t worry,” you said, ripples of electricity making their way up your spine as Michael lightly stroked your shoulder with his calloused fingertips. “We will.”

ii.

“Room number 69, huh?” Michael said with a quirk of his eyebrow, licking his lips as he plucked the key card from your hand and slid it into its designated slot by the door. “It’s like they knew we were gonna be staying here.”

“You are eighteen years old,” you said in a monotone, though secretly Michael’s immature sense of humor and silliness were qualities that never failed in making your heart swell.

There was a subtle beep as the light next to the slot flickered green, and Michael pushed open the door with one shoulder, the other occupied with his bag. “How fucking awesome is this?”

You followed him into the modestly-sized room, discarding your bag at the end of one of the two pristinely made beds. Michael did the same, and without even giving you time to settle into your new surroundings, he pushed you firmly up against the nearest empty wall.

Even despite the fact that he’d been sitting in a hot car for several hours (unsurprisingly, your father was very stingy with the air conditioning), Michael still managed to smell good; the intoxicating mixture of his shampoo, paired alongside his boyish deodorant and woodsy cologne, was dizzying from such a close proximity.

“You didn’t waste any time,” you chuckled, cheeks flushing as he began to pepper kisses along your neck and behind your ear, lifting one hand to brush your hair over your shoulder.

“Why would I?” he said, his voice low and seductive. He took a moment to playfully nip at your earlobe, and you squealed, wrapping your arms around him so you could pull his firm torso closer to yours. “What else are you supposed to do when you’re left all alone with such a pretty girl?”

As much as you weren’t willing to admit it, your heart soared at this validation- Michael thought you were a pretty girl. Those words, coming from that perfect mouth, made you feel a childish sense of giddiness, gave you butterflies in the pit of your stomach like an innocent playground crush.

Michael wandered one hand up over the curve of your hip and onto your waist, lips still moving open-mouthed against your jugular and around to the front of your throat. Reaching up to the back of Michael’s head, you took a fistful of butterscotch-colored hair at the root, using it to guide him back towards your face. Then you kissed him, hard and passionate, your fingers threading easily through his waves as his tongue slipped past yours and into your mouth.

Ding!

You assumed Michael’s phone had just gone off, but neither of you paid it any mind, your breath hitching as Michael slid one veined hand up under your tank top to grope your left breast.

Ding!

“My pretty baby sis,” Michael breathed, swollen mouth slick with saliva. Panting softly, he continued to ignore his phone, tugging his t-shirt over his head and tossing it behind him haphazardly.

With his upper body exposed to you now, you took the opportunity to trace your fingers down the length of his subtly defined abs, stopping just beneath his navel. Just below that, after the cute trail of fuzzy blond hair that paved the way to his v-line, was the low-hanging waistband of his gray sweatpants; you hooked your fingers there, just barely pulling the fabric down as you eyed the mouthwatering bulge prominent in the front of his pants.

You couldn’t help yourself- biting your lower lip, you brought your hand between Michael’s legs and grasped his semi-erect length through the soft material of his pants.

Ding! Ding!

Michael hissed, but he seemed to be somewhat distracted now; you knit your eyebrows as he twisted around to face the source of the interruption- his phone, which he’d left on one of the beds.

Ding!

“What is that?” you asked, frowning. It wasn’t often that Michael tolerated anything getting in the way of his hookups, so you found it mildly concerning when he broke away from you entirely to go and grab his phone.

His tongue poked out of the corner of his lips as he looked at his screen, and you could tell that he was stifling a smirk. “Oh. Uh, it’s nothing.”

You moved from your place against the wall, approaching Michael with your arms crossed in front of your chest. Sure, maybe it was none of your business, seeing that you weren’t Michael’s girlfriend or anything, but he’d piqued your curiosity.

Ding! Ding! Michael fumbled with the phone for a second before turning it on silent.

You cocked your head to one side. “No really, what is that?”

Michael had hidden his phone behind his back now, bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

Okay, now you had to know.

“C’mon, lemme see,” you said, trying your hardest not to sound upset. Why were you upset, anyway? You reached around Michael to take his phone from his hand, which, surprisingly, he allowed you to do without much protest.

You looked down at his phone, jaw dropping as you began reading over the several notifications stretching down the length of his screen.

NEW MATCH! With Sofi

NEW MATCH! With Katherine

NEW MATCH! With Kristen

NEW MATCH! With Mallory

NEW MATCH! With Caitlin

NEW MATCH! With Anna

Your eyes flickered up to Michael’s face, down to the phone screen, and then back again, unsure of how exactly you were supposed to react to such a discovery. Michael just offered you a sheepish shrug, somehow only pissing you off further, and angrily you shoved his phone back into his hands.

“Are you fucking kidding? We’ve been here for less than an hour and you’re already trying to find hoes on Tinder?”

“Well, I mean, that’s one way to put it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to see what kind of girls live around here, I swear. I wasn’t actually gonna-“

“-Whatever,” you mumbled, bending over to unzip your travel bag. It wasn’t like you had any sort of right to be pissed- Michael could do what he wanted, and if what he wanted was to hook up with random Tinder girls, then so be it. Still, though, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.

You rifled around in your bag until you came upon the neat ziploc bag full of travel-sized shower essentials, which you tucked under your arm. “I’m gonna go take a shower. I feel gross.”

“Wait, (y/n). Are you mad at me?” You weren’t sure if he actually cared about hurting your feelings, or if he was worried that you wouldn’t want to fuck him anymore; either way, you didn’t think right now was the best of times to be honest about your feelings.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Your voice sounded dangerously close to breaking, and you knew it (and so did Michael, most likely).

“Well… I dunno. You seemed pretty pissed just now.”

“No, no. Do whatever you want. Fuck as many Tinder girls as your heart desires. It’s not like we’re exclusive.” You continued to search through your bag, pulling out your pajamas and hair towel and tucking them alongside your shower supplies.

“Someone sounds bitter,” Michael mused, causing you to narrow your eyes at him in a focused, pointed glare.

“I thought it was sort of established already that this-“ he motioned at himself, and then to you- “isn’t gonna go anywhere. So I don’t really see the harm in looking around.”

Instantly, you felt a lump form in the back of your throat.

He was right. You’d even said it yourself, that nothing good would ever become of this thing you had with Michael; as much as you wanted it to, it was impossible. So why did it hurt so bad to hear it coming from him?

“Which is why I’m not mad,” you said, swallowing thickly. “Do what you want. I don’t care.”

But, like the cliché you were, you did care. Thinking of Michael with anyone else made you feel sick to your stomach. But what were you supposed to do about it? You were his stepsister.

God, if only things had been different. If only the universe hadn’t brought you together in the most inconvenient and unconventional of ways.

You turned on your heels, leaving Michael behind as you made your way to the bathroom without another word.

Once you’d started the shower and adjusted the temperature, you stripped down, catching a glimpse in the mirror of the many marks adorning your body that Michael had left behind at some point or another- hickeys (some bright lilac and navy blue, while others were fading shades of yellow and pink, all speckled down your chest and over your breasts), fingerprint-shaped bruises, shallow scratches.

And those were just the physical ways that Michael had marked you; you were sure that if you turned yourself inside out, there would be thousands more markings to be found.

You thought maybe this was exactly what you needed right now: a long, hot shower to clear your head. Maybe, if the mood struck, you’d even cry a little bit, just to get your emotions in order.

You stepped into the shower, flinching at the intensity of the stream as it cascaded relentlessly over your body. Shutting your eyes, you ran your palms over your face, skin prickling at the pleasant warmth of the water. After you’d allowed your hair to get sufficiently soaked, you reached for your travel-sized bottle of shampoo, squirting some of the coconut-scented gel into your hand and working up a lather.

You were halfway through your usual hair-washing routine when you heard the bathroom door open; you opened one eye, hardly wider than a squint, to see a tall, blond-haired figure through the steamy glass shower door entering the bathroom. Though the thick layer of steam on the door heavily obscured the intruder, you were still able to see that whoever had entered was butt fucking naked.

Fucking Michael.

There was a metallic squeak as the shower door slid open, revealing an image to you that must’ve been hand-delivered by an angel. There, in all his naked glory, stood Michael, one hand positioned by his side and the other gripping his impressively hard cock.

It was a miracle you didn’t slip and crack your skull open right then.

“Hey,” said Michael coolly, a smug smirk appearing on his lips when he noticed you staring at his length.

“Michael, what are you doing?” you asked, attempting to sound just a little less eager than you were feeling. You tilted your head back, quickly washing away the excess shampoo in your hair, and as you did this, Michael joined you in the shower.

“Saving water,” Michael replied, pulling the door shut and enclosing the two of you within the stream.

“How environmentally friendly of you.”

“Aww, are you still mad at me?” You tensed as he grabbed your hips and brought you closer to him, the head of his cock brushing your stomach and sending chills throughout your body.

“I was never mad at you,” you said flatly. You kept rinsing your hair, refusing to give Michael the attention he clearly was so desperately seeking (not yet, at least).

“You were a little jealous though, weren’t you?” he teased, squeezing your tits without warning and making you jump. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ve already told you before that your pussy is my favorite.”

“I was never worried,” you snapped, but you couldn’t deny the arousal that immediately resulted from Michael’s words.

“Whatever you say, baby,” said Michael, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his bare chest. You shivered at the feeling of his big cock on your ass, and all at once, whatever snarky comeback you’d been formulating disintegrated into nothingness.

Your eyes fell shut as Michael’s hands traveled over your body, his touch gentle but still possessive; he stopped at your tits, kneading the smooth peaks in both hands until they stung, kissing your shoulder when you squirmed at the slight discomfort. “Just relax and let your big brother take care of you.”

He retrieved your body wash off the ledge in the shower, gathering some in his palms and returning his attention to your tits. You leaned back, resting the back of your head on his broad shoulder as he began rubbing the body wash all over you (mainly focusing on your breasts, because what else would you expect from Michael Langdon?).

His slippery hands felt like heaven on your tits, pinching and toying with your nipples just the way you liked. It wasn’t until his hand began dipping lower, though, that your breath caught in your throat.

His fingers trailed past your stomach and down to cup your cunt, goosebumps erupting across your skin as he hummed in your ear. Your entire body reacted to his touch, muscles tightening and thighs trembling, hips rolling back so you could better feel his deliciously thick cock against your back.

“You like that? Like how I touch you?” he murmured, his words reverberating against your throat and igniting a fresh wave of arousal between your legs.

With one hand, he used his fingers to splay apart your outer lips, gathering some of your wetness by stroking up and down your slit while his other hand worked at your tits. A familiar heat began to spread from behind your navel, and paired with the near-scalding warmth and great pressure of the shower stream, you felt your head start to spin.

You laid your head back on Michael’s shoulder, trusting him to keep you balanced as you reclined limply against him. His fingers moved upwards again, using the sticky arousal on the tips of his fingers to massage slow, lazy circles over your aching bud; you let out a gravelly moan just as Michael administered a sharp pinch to your hardened nipple.

“Fuck, Michael… feels so good.”

You were well past the point of preserving your pride, bucking your hips against Michael’s hand while trying to squeeze your thighs shut around it, keeping him close to you.

“Hm? Is that right? You like when I touch your pussy?” His voice was husky, rich and warm like a roll of tropical thunder; swallowing noisily, you bobbed your head up and down in agreement.

Garnering what little energy you had left, you extended your arm behind you, spreading your fingers in search of Michael’s erection; tongue darting out to wet your chapped lips at the feeling of his stiff, smooth skin, you followed the slightly jutting vein that wound up the side of his length, stopping at the head of his cock and running your thumb over his leaking slit.

He groaned at the sensation, encouraging you on. You returned your hand to the base of his cock, grazing your fingers along his sensitive balls before taking a firm hold of his shaft, pumping your fist up and down his length with as much vigor as you could manage.

“Fuck,” he grunted, and although he now had the added task of awaiting his own impending orgasm alongside bringing you to yours, his fingers did not falter between your legs. Every throaty groan passing his lips seemed to drive his fingers into more of a frenzy, forming fast, sloppy shapes on your aching bud until you were crying out.

“That’s a good- fuck- girl. Keep jerking your big brother’s cock, just like that. Feels so fucking good,” he breathed against your skin, making you shiver even despite the heavy, humid warmth of the bathroom. You could no longer see anything through the glass door, which had become entirely overtaken with thick fog; for a moment you felt like this was the only place on earth that existed- a closed-off world of steam and water and porcelain made just for you and Michael.

With your eyes shut tight as the coil in your belly prepared to snap, all you could do was listen to the melodic blend of sounds enveloping the small space and attempt to move your body in time with the makeshift rhythm. Not one sound fell upon deaf ears- you were hyper-aware of every vulgar, human noise; every breath and every moan; every squeak of wet feet on the slick white floor.

This might be the most beautiful song you’ve ever heard, you thought.

“Fuck, Michael— more.” Stretching your other arm back to desperately grab at Michael’s damp mop of waves, you allowed yourself to come undone, arching your back so your erect nipples were pointed up towards the ceiling.

Michael brought his free hand away from your breasts, instead using it to brace himself against the shower door, creating a hand-shaped imprint in the steam that immediately began to drip with condensation.

Without thinking, you let go of Michael’s hair to join his hand on the glass; lacing your fingers through his, you worked at his cock with your opposite hand until his breaths grew ragged and choppy- a sure-fire sign that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, (y/n), keep going,” he moaned breathlessly, pressing his thumb harshly against your clit and nearly causing your knees to buckle underneath you. “Gonna- fuck.”

His cock twitched in your hand, and with that, he was cumming, shooting his thick load all over your ass and lower back. Miraculously, even as he recovered from his orgasm, he still continued to touch you; his fingers were like magic on your clit, and within a matter of seconds, you, too, were being sent over the edge.

“Oh god, Michael—“

Even during an earth-shattering orgasm like the one you were experiencing, you still were able to notice the way that Michael had switched spots on the glass with you, his large hand enclosing around yours and squeezing.

He didn’t remove his hand from between your thighs until you were twitching and overstimulated, and once he did, he pulled you into a hug, his strong arms cradling you against his chest.

Your eyes fluttered open and shut again, like a person caught between life and death, when he planted a tender kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m never gonna find anyone else like you,” he said, hardly louder than a whisper. You weren’t sure whether it was a reassurance to you, or a solemn statement of distress.

Either way, you swore you could hear something like sadness behind his words.

iii.

Since Miriam and your father were too preoccupied with their arguing to arrange any family excursions, you and Michael were left to your own devices.

Those next few days in Florida, your life was about as close to a teen romance movie as it could get. You and Michael spent the days exploring the nearby towns, trying out restaurants (it’d taken a startlingly long while for you to convince Michael to try out one of the local cafés for breakfast instead of McDonald’s, which had been his original idea) and going shopping; on one occasion, you shared a joint with Michael before dragging him to the local aquarium, which he’d pretended to be entirely disinterested in (even though you could see the wonder and fear in his eyes whilst staring at the shark exhibit- what would happen if the glass broke? he’d asked, nervously drumming his fingers on the paneling as a particularly large shark swam by).

You shared ice cream with him on the boardwalk, licking the chocolate soft serve that had melted off the cone and onto Michael’s hand off his fingers; you rubbed sunscreen on each other at the beach (although Michael wasn’t nearly as thorough as you were, and most of the time you’d wind up with a nasty sunburn thanks to his negligence); you bought 99-cent popsicles from a vendor, making out with cherry-stained lips while the sun went down.

At night, you’d sit on the beach, sometimes stoned, talking and laughing as the waves rolled in and out on the shore.

It was 3 am on your last night in Florida, and you and Michael had snuck out of the hotel room and walked down to the beach, large checkered blanket and a bottle of red wine in tow (Michael had charmed the woman behind the counter in a sketchy liquor store in order to obtain this). You were sitting side-by-side, thoughts clouded from the effects of the alcohol with your knees drawn to your chest, when a sudden realization washed upon you like one of the rumbling waves breaking against the shore.

You were in love with Michael Langdon.

This was an unwavering, undeniable fact; you were in love with him. You loved him, even the parts of him that, at one point, you had hated. The realization was both peaceful and upsetting.

“Michael,” you said, huddling closer to yourself as a cool breeze cut through the night. What were you going to say to him? You couldn’t very well tell him about the epiphany you’d just had- he’d been on Tinder just a few days ago, for god’s sake. But, still, you felt compelled to say something.

“Hmm?” He stretched out his legs, running his palms up and down his sand-covered calves. In the darkness, you could hardly make out the features of his face, save for the sparkling reflection in his eyes as he looked out towards the ocean.

You licked your lips, taking a swig from the half-empty bottle of wine that had been positioned upright in the sand. You winced at the bittersweet taste washing over your tongue, the blood-colored liquid sloshing noisily against its glass confines as you brought it back down to your side.

“I don’t know,” you said, suddenly feeling stupid. “It’s just- I don’t want this all to be over.”

“Me either,” he said, putting his arm around you and drawing you closer to him. You inhaled sharply, breathing in the scent of wine and stale cigarettes and salt water like it was oxygen and you’d just been saved from drowning. “I didn’t think I would, but I had a really great time this week.”

You shook your head. “I’m not just talking about this week. I just mean in general. I feel like it’s all ending so soon.”

“Oh.” He took in a breath, an especially large wave hitting the shore with a startling crash. “God, this fucking sucks, doesn’t it?”

“Michael, I-“ I love you. The remaining words settled on the back of your tongue, refusing to roll off, but perhaps it was for the better. “-I think in another life, we could’ve worked out. Could’ve been something more than what we are. You know?”

If only, if only, if fucking only.

“Lucky us, being born in the universe where we’re fucking step siblings,” Michael laughed, but there was a deep sadness in his voice that you’d never heard before. “But, (y/n). Even though shit isn’t working out the way we wanted it to, and even though it’s gonna hurt when we both go away to college, I’m still so glad that I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too.”

There was only silence for a long moment as Michael reached for the wine bottle and took an indulgent sip. “There’s so much shit I wish could’ve been different,” he said finally, angling his head up towards the velvet blackness of the night sky. “I wish I’d treated you differently. I wish I hadn’t been so fucking scared of feeling something.”

You ran your fingers through the soft sand, forming meaningless patterns there as you listened to Michael open up for what felt like the first time since you’d met him.

“I used to lie awake at night and think of how fucking unfair this all is. That the one girl I’ve ever really wanted is the one girl I can’t have. I used to think if maybe I pushed you away, treated you like shit, that everything would hurt less. But it just hurt me more, seeing you in pain from the shit I put you through. And now I realize that it’s all gonna hurt the same either way. ‘Cause I’ll never have you the way I want.”

You felt a well-known pinching behind your eyes, and you blinked, silently willing away the tears that were threatening to escape. You kept your eyes on the drawings you’d made in the ground, knowing that if you were to look into Michael’s eyes, you’d probably break.

“What’s gonna happen to us, Michael? We can’t just wait for each other while we’re away at college and miss out on life. But god, I wanna be with you,” you said, voice quivering.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I say we just…live our lives. And if it’s meant to be, it will be. One day.”

You nodded, dragging your fingers through the sand and destroying the mindless spirals and swirls you’d formed. “One day.”

“But enough with all that sad shit,” said Michael, taking your chin in hand and moving it so you were looking at him. “What’s important is that we have each other right now. So let’s make the most of that, hm?”

The look in Michael’s eyes told you right away what he meant by making the most of your time together; your cheeks were hot, prickling from the red wine, fingertips burning to touch something. So you did- you grabbed the front of Michael’s shirt, yanking him towards you and placing a haphazard, open-mouthed kiss on his lips.

The kiss was aggressive and feverish; it didn’t take long for Michael to lay you down on the checkered blanket, his hands wandering your body like it belonged to him (and, in a way, it did).

When Michael broke away to catch his breath, panting, you decided to try something new: with all the strength you could muster, you pushed Michael off of you and promptly rolled on top of him instead, straddling him with your knees on either side of his torso.

In the faint glow of the silvery moonlight, you could see an indistinct smirk playing at his lips; it wasn’t often that you were the one to take control, but it was obvious, from the growing protrusion in the front of his pants, that he liked the change.

You leaned down to reattach your lips to his, hips rocking back and forth over his bulge until the friction sent shock waves up your spine. With you bent forward, Michael was easily able to slide his veined hands up the back of your short skirt, taking two greedy fistfuls of your ass.

Almost frantically, you tore your shirt off over your head, not bothering to worry about where it landed. Now, the only thing separating your breasts from the nighttime air was a thin lace bralette, which Michael took to palming you through.

“Fuck, (y/n),” murmured Michael, rolling one of your hardened nipples between two fingers. “You have seriously got the best tits.”

“Yeah? You think so?” you said, a twinge of playful mocking to your voice; you wrapped your fingers around Michael’s wrists, maneuvering them so that both his hands were fondling your breasts.

“Fuck yeah, I think so,” he said, and you only wished there was just a bit more light so you could properly admire him in his disheveled, lustful state.

“Even better than those girls on Tinder you matched with?” you taunted, grinding your hips down hard against Michael’s erection. “I wonder what they’d think about all the times you’ve been balls deep in your stepsister.”

At this, he tightened his grip on your tits, twisting them almost painfully before hoisting up the thin fabric of your bralette so your nipples were exposed. You helped him in removing the garment, pulling it off and throwing it alongside your shirt, never once ceasing the motion of your hips against his clothed, twitching cock.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood,” Michael said, running his thumbs over your nipples. “Otherwise I’d take you over my lap and spank your ass raw for being such a little bitch.”

“And you’re lucky you have a big dick,” you shot back, words catching in your throat when he tugged hard on one of your nipples. “Otherwise I never would’ve given your fuckboy ass the time of day.”

This was a lie, of course, but your lighthearted tone of voice was enough to let him know that you were only messing around.

Michael scoffed. “No, I think you’re the one who’s lucky that I have a big dick, considering that you’re a total fucking cock-hungry slut.”

You stifled a laugh. Well, he’s not wrong.

“Is that a complaint?” you said, lips quirking as you scooted your body slightly downward, giving yourself room to pull Michael’s now-fully hard cock out. Sinking your teeth into your lower lip, you took the pulsing length in hand, moving your thin panties to the side and repositioning yourself so that the head of Michael’s cock was nestled just barely against your entrance.

Michael shook his head rapidly, a throaty grunt passing his lips. “Obviously- fuck- not.”

It was almost amusing to you, the way you and Michael had gone from having a heartfelt conversation to teasing each other relentlessly, but you supposed that was what you loved about your dynamic anyway. Unable to hold off any longer, you guided Michael’s cock inside you, gliding down easily on his length until he was fully seated inside. Your mouth fell open, and as you began to properly ride him, he brought his hands to grip your hips with a tight, bruising hold.

“Fuck, Michael,” you sighed, tits bouncing as you rolled your hips forward, increasing your momentum. Michael slid one hand from your hip to your inner thigh, pinching the tender skin before bringing his thumb to your clit and rubbing firm circles over it.

A pleasant, salt water-scented breeze passed by as you rode Michael, further disheveling your hair, which you ran your fingers through; the lewd noises of your body connecting with Michael’s were overtaken by the unmistakable sounds of the tide.

“Good girl, riding my cock so fucking good,” Michael breathed, lifting up his free hand so he could push two fingers into your mouth. Your eyelids fluttered at the salt of his skin, lips instinctively wrapping around his calloused digits and sucking.

Swirling your tongue over Michael’s fingers, you continued riding him, swaying your hips in figure-eight motions; the thick girth of his cock stretched your tight walls, and from this angle, you could practically feel him in your stomach.

The pad of Michael’s thumb pressed against your clit again, and as electric pleasure rippled up your spine, it took everything inside you not to cum right then and there. Your pussy was clenching tight around him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to let go—you didn’t want to be apart from him. Not yet.

For a second, you could see every contoured feature of Michael’s face illuminated in the pale light of the moon, the exaggerated shadows and highlights coming together to form an image that was almost otherworldly. His eyes were droopy-lidded, so much so that you might’ve thought his eyes were shut if it weren’t for the glint of his pupils; he’d sucked his full lower lip into his mouth, nibbling on the rosy pink flesh as he admired your curved, supple figure on top of him.

I love him, you thought, matter-of-fact, as he pulled his spit-soaked fingers from your mouth and dragged them down between your tits, leaving a shiny trail of saliva in their wake.

I love him, you thought, bowing your body forward to kiss him hungrily, moaning into his mouth as you hurried your pace on his cock.

I love him.

Why the fuck did you have to love him? It wasn’t fair. Your insides churned with jealousy at the thought of all the other teenage girls who were currently experiencing their first love; you thought of the constant Instagram posts of girls in new, happy relationships, the public displays of affection against lockers between classes. Those things, so seemingly insignificant, would never become a part of your reality (or at least not any reality involving Michael).

In another life you’d have Michael over for dinner to meet your father, holding his hand under the table when you’d notice his thigh jiggling anxiously. You’d kiss him freely without the underlying fear, swirling deep in the pit of your belly, that someone might catch you. You’d be his prom date, match your gown to his bow tie and take awkward pictures with him, his strong arms holding you from behind.

In another life, things would be normal. In another life, you and Michael would be happy together.

“(Y/n),” groaned Michael; the sound of his raspy voice calling your name was enough to send you over the edge, bracing your tense body with one hand next to his head as you rode out your orgasm.

You were able to move even faster now, both of his hands holding your ass as you leaned far enough forward that you could bury your head in his neck. The feeling of his cock pulsing inside of you was almost too much now that you’d orgasmed, but you didn’t stop, eager to witness Michael drift into his own realm of bliss.

“Fuck—“ was all that could leave Michael’s lips before he came, using your ass to hold you in place as he spilled his warm load inside of you. You didn’t move, keeping your face by his neck so you could listen to him catch his breath.

When you finally picked yourself up, Michael looked down to his shoulder and furrowed his eyebrows. “Were you just crying?”

Fuck. Yes, yes you were. Tears had apparently leaked from the corners of your eyes without you realizing, wetting his neck and the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. You said nothing, pulling off him to retrieve the clothing articles that you’d discarded in the sand earlier.

“Just a little,” you said, embarrassed, shaking the sand off your bralette and putting it on. “Red wine makes me angsty.”

“Oh.” There was a pregnant pause as Michael cleared his throat. “C’mon, (y/n), it’s not so bad.”

There was wavering uncertainty veiled beneath the confidence of his words, and you could tell he was trying to convince himself of this sentiment just as much as he was trying to convince you. Your back was to him as you slipped your shirt over your head, willing yourself not to start crying again.

“(Y/n)?”

His hand was on your back, the tips of his fingers circling lightly over the fabric of your shirt. You turned to face him, slowly. “Yes?”

“I…” He halted for a moment, contemplating something. “I really, really like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone before.”

“I really, really like you too.” Somewhere, a chorus of crickets were unknowingly performing a custom symphony for your own teen romance movie moment. Michael took your hand in his, lacing his long fingers through yours, and you swallowed.

He looked down at your joined hands, an almost solemn look on his face. “Just. I don’t want you to forget, all right? No matter what happens.”

No matter what happens. You didn’t want to think of what he could mean by that.

“Don’t worry,” you whispered, as if to shield your words from the ocean’s prying ears. “I won’t forget.”

And that, you knew, was an irrefutable fact.

iv.

Late August hit you like a truck, coming by so unexpectedly that you thought surely you’d been caught in some kind of time slip. Your college move-in date was a week before Michael’s, and so Michael had spent the days leading up to your departure helping you pack (he’d also, of course, made plenty of time for “breaks” throughout the process, one of which consisted of you being fucked on the floor amidst the vast array of brown moving boxes).

Your bedroom was now a shell of what it’d once been- the comfortable teenage clutter you’d been so accustomed to was now gone, and you’d finally gotten around to throwing out the pictures and stickers you’d had on your wall since freshman year. It was depressing, hollow.

On the morning of your move-in date, your father helped you bring your belongings to the car and load the trunk. The car ride was going to be fairly long, and you were dreading it, especially since Michael wasn’t coming along. He had his own matters to attend to, what with his own move-in date creeping near, and the car would be far too crowded with all your things there anyway.

You were scheduled to leave at 9, and downstairs you could hear your father and Miriam shuffling around as they prepared for the trip. You sat at the edge of your bed, surrounded by the pale purple sheets you’d had for as long as you could remember, idly scraping the toe of your sneaker back and forth along the wooden floor.

You weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of this, but when had you ever been ready for anything life had thrown your way? You hadn’t been ready to fall in love with your stepbrother, and yet that had happened all the same.

From across the hall, Michael’s bedroom door cracked open, and out he came in his flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt (which now perfectly complemented the slight summertime hue of bronze to his skin), blond hair in beautiful disarray. Your heart ached- you were going to miss seeing him in the morning, all sleepy and soft, voice pitched lower than usual from sleep.

You recalled all the times you’d passed him as he stood at the counter in the bathroom, brushing his teeth; he’d look at you with a lazy half-smile, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, his elbows resting on the edge of the sink. He always looked so handsome even when he wasn’t trying, a quality you almost envied him for.

He noticed you watching him from the corner of your bed as he approached the doorway, waving at you as he balanced his shoulder against the frame.

“‘Morning,” he said, his bleary-eyed gaze meeting yours. He looked tired, dark rings prevalent beneath his crystal blue eyes, and you briefly wondered if he’d gotten much sleep the night before. “You should be grateful that I got up at the ass crack of dawn to say goodbye to you.”

“The ass crack of dawn? Michael, it’s 8:45,” you said, and if you really tried, you could almost pretend that this was a regular conversation between the two of you, and not the very last time you’d be interacting face-to-face until November.

“Yeah, well, 8:45 is the ass crack of dawn to me,” he said, and you stood up, meeting him halfway in the middle of your barren room. He flashed you a grin, but there wasn’t much happiness behind it, and you could see that he was… uncomfortable? Sad? Angry?— you couldn’t quite tell— from the way he’d folded his arms in front of his stomach. “So yeah. I, uh, wanted to say goodbye. And also remind you not to fuck too many frat guys. You could, like, catch something.”

“I’ll try not to, but I can’t promise anything,” you joked, following the sentence with a forced-sounding chuckle. “Bye, Michael.”

You stepped forward, winding your arms around Michael’s waist and placing your head against his chest; you could just barely hear his heart beating, the warmth of his skin touching your cheek even through the fabric of his t-shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head, strong arms holding you to him in an unyielding embrace. “So much.”

There were too many things you wanted to say, racing through your mind so quickly that it’d be impossible to articulate them aloud. Instead, you let out a shaky sigh, eyes falling shut as you tried your hardest to immerse yourself completely in Michael’s touch. Sometimes, there didn’t need to be any words for you to understand each other.

“Don’t be sad about this, (y/n). When you’re at college, you’re gonna meet so many guys who are so much better than I am. And you’re gonna wonder why you ever were hung up on a dumbass like me.” His tone was lighthearted, but you knew better than to really believe that he was unbothered. “But I don’t think I’ll ever find someone better than you. I’m so fucking lucky that you gave me as many chances as you did. I didn’t deserve them.”

“You’re wrong,” you said, pulling away so you could look pointedly into Michael’s eyes. God, his eyes were beautiful, and you drank in the moment, knowing this was your last chance to really look into them face-to-face. “I gave you those chances because even though you acted like a total fucking asshole, I still knew there was good in you. I could just… feel it.”

He cocked an eyebrow skepticall y. “No, you gave me all those second chances because I give good head and have a big dick.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, maybe those were contributing factors, but they weren’t the only reasons I stuck around.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said, licking his lips and settling his hands on your hips. “For the record, your pussy really is my favorite. Like, I wasn’t just saying that.”

“I’m honored.”

The interaction was cut short by the sound of your father calling you from downstairs, indicating that it was time to leave, and your heart sank deep into your stomach. Standing up on the tips of your toes, you planted a chaste kiss on his lips before hurrying out into the hall, waving over your shoulder as you went.

“Bye, (y/n),” Michael said, not moving from where he stood in your bedroom. He’d dug his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, shoulders slumped forward as he watched you go. For a moment, you wished you’d hugged him for longer. “See you in November.”

“See you,” you called back, imitating nonchalance to the best of your ability, only averting your gaze when you felt tears wobbling along your waterline, threatening to overflow and spill down your cheeks.

In that last moment before you turned, you could almost swear that he had tears in his eyes, too.

When you finally made your way up those familiar porch steps again, the November air chilling you slightly even despite the thick sweater you wore, you felt like an entirely different person.

Those first few months of college had been a blur; your life was far more interesting than it’d ever been while you were in high school (if you didn’t count the whole ‘fucking your stepbrother’ thing), with a surplus of boys at your disposal at all times. You’d gotten perhaps a bit carried away with the dating and partying and hookups, but you figured you were simply making up for all the experiences you’d missed out on in high school.

Michael was a thought that you trained yourself to keep tucked away. During those first few weeks, you’d spent several nights crying yourself to sleep, the stiff dorm room bed so uninviting compared to the way Michael’s arms had always felt around you. At parties, you’d scan the crowds for boys with blond hair and blue eyes, hoping that one of them could temporarily stand in for Michael during your time away from him. None of them fulfilled the requirements, of course- you’d come to realize early on that nobody was quite as good as Michael Langdon. It took a while for you to stop searching for Michael in every boy you became acquainted with, but with practice, you became rather skilled in the art of forgetting.

You and Michael kept in contact, albeit only sometimes. His messages to you were comprised mainly of memes he’d found on Instagram that he thought you’d appreciate, along with the occasional drunk text late at night (‘Cna you send me a pci of your tits/??? Lmfao’ was one of your favorite messages from him that you’d received thus far). It made you feel special to know that he was thinking of you, even despite being surrounded by girls like you assumed he probably was.

You tried not to think of him too much, though- you knew you’d drive yourself crazy if you did.

When Thanksgiving time rolled around, you were confronted with the fact that you’d be seeing Michael again for the first time in months, a prospect that ignited your nerves far more than you were willing to admit. As excited as you were to see him, you also couldn’t help but worry: what if he announced that he’d found a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to you anymore? What if you weren’t attracted to him anymore?

It probably would be easier for the both of you if things played out that way, but you didn’t want things to be easy. It was unrealistic, but part of you was praying that things would be exactly as they were before you’d gone away.

Your hand trembled a bit as you raised it to the doorbell, and you braced yourself before jamming your finger into the button. From inside the house, you heard the muffled, off-key tone as it resounded throughout the upstairs area, followed by bounding footsteps down the stairs that you pinpointed as belonging to your father.

The front swung open and there was your father, a wide smile stretched across his face as he ushered you inside, taking it upon himself to bring in your travel bag for you. “(Y/n)! Finally! How was the train ride?”

“Not bad,” you said as he pulled you into a hug. As soon as you were apart, you started up the stairs, your pulse quickening as you came closer and closer to the moment you’d been anticipating for months. “Did Michael get back already?”

“Yeah, about an hour ago.”

Your heart skipped at this revelation; your legs couldn’t bring you to the top of the stairs fast enough, and, sensing your heightened enthusiasm, your father chuckled from behind you. “Hey, hold on a second. I haven’t seen you in months.”

“I’ll be right back, I promise,” you said breathlessly, the rubber soles of your sneakers making noisy contact with the wooden upstairs floor. You supposed that maybe you should’ve spent more time greeting your father, but you could no longer contain yourself- you needed to see Michael.

Leaving your bag at the top of the stairs, you hurried to the hallway where your bedrooms were located, unable to stifle your eagerness. You felt like a starved animal, finally being presented with food by a pair of benevolent hands, and you were ready to devour.

You didn’t bother knocking on Michael’s door when you approached it, bursting in with such force that you stumbled over your feet. The room was dim, what with the blinds being open so only a few rays of late-afternoon sunlight could peek through; seated in front of his once-cluttered empty desk, now occupied only by a laptop, was Michael, massive headphones positioned over his ears as he fixated on whatever stupid game he was currently playing (does he still play fortnite? you wondered).

The sound of your intrusion was loud enough to catch his attention, and as his head turned from his computer screen to your face, something shifted in his eyes. Immediately, he tore off his headphones, jumping to his feet so abruptly that they clattered to the ground. “Holy fuck, (y/n).”

It was evident, from the way you fell easily into his arms, that the attraction hadn’t faded. If anything, the distance apart seemed to have only made the magnetic connection between you grow even stronger.

Your lips clashed together feverishly (you had no idea who had been the one to initiate this— it seemed that you’d both moved in perfect unison into one another), hands wandering freely over each other’s bodies and teeth bumping against teeth. When you broke away, a string of saliva stretching and breaking between your faces, Michael beamed down at you.

The slight layer of baby fat that had once rounded out Michael’s cheeks appeared to have dissipated, his cheekbones even more pronounced than you remembered them being. His sharp jaw was shadowed with the smallest touch of brown stubble, (which you assumed was there because he’d been too lazy to shave), but you thought the more mature look suited him well.

“Jesus, (y/n), I missed you.” His voice was like smooth velvet; you’d inject it into your bloodstream if you could. “You’re even more fucking beautiful than I remembered.”

“Oh, good. I was worried you’d be grossed out by my freshman fifteen,” you laughed.

“Fuck no. The fatter the ass, the better,” he said with a devious smirk, running his long fingers through his overgrown mop of blond hair. He smelled just like you remembered, a mixture of cinnamon gum and cigarettes and cologne (and the faintest hint of marijuana, of course), and you wished you could bottle up his scent and take it with you.

“So you’re still a fuckboy, I see,” you teased, twisting the front of Michael’s t-shirt in your hands and pulling him towards you. “Some things just never change, I guess.”

“Guess not.” He was speaking lowly now, assuming the smooth tone he always used when he was attempting to seduce you, and as if on cue came a dull, throbbing ache between your legs. “I wonder if your pussy is as good as I remember?”

His fingers found their way to the bottom of your sweater, fumbling with the chunky fabric and swiftly maneuvering it off over your head. You mirrored his actions, pulling off his shirt and exposing his torso, pressing your lips back against his with urgency once his upper half had been disrobed.

“Fuck…” you breathed against his parted mouth, palming the growing erection in the front of his pale gray sweatpants (your favorite pair of pants that he owned). “Need you to fuck me, Mikey…”

“Is that right?” He tilted his head to one side, kissing you deeply as he bent his knees, using his own weight as leverage to lift you up. You intertwined your ankles behind Michael’s back, securing your place in his toned arms as he carried you over to his bed; the vulgar, wet sound of your tongues melding together filled the room as he laid you down on his checkered comforter, your legs still wrapped snugly around him. “Did my baby sis miss having her pussy split on her big bro’s cock?”

“Mhm,” you purred; there truly was no man in existence better at dirty talking than Michael. You tensed in excitement when he began fumbling with the top button of your jeans, proceeding to deftly work the form-fitting denim material down your thighs once he’d freed it from its hold. “Can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Impatiently, you reached between your bodies, your fingers coming upon the thick outline of his bulge as he peppered your throat with sloppy kisses. You moved your hand up to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging the elastic as far back as you could; this resulted in him chuckling against your flesh, your body erupting in goosebumps at the sensation.

“So needy,” he mumbled, the vibrations of his plump lips traveling straight down to your cunt. “Did you touch yourself when you were away at school, thinking of me? Thinking of how good I touch you, how hard I make you cum?”

“M-Michael,” you whimpered, rolling your hips in melodic time with his, his clothed cock making friction against your thinly veiled pussy. “C’mon, just fuck me already. Please.”

“I like it when you beg,” he said, smug, standing so he could pull down his sweatpants and boxers, putting his long, weighted cock on display for you. You lifted your knees up for him, and in one swift motion he stripped you of your flimsy black thong. “Beg me again.”

You squirmed, sliding your flat palm down your stomach so you could touch yourself between your parted thighs; slowly, you coated your fingers with your own sticky essence, looking up at Michael from under a canopy of thick lashes. “Fuck me, Michael. I need you.”

“Ask nicely,” he chided, hoisting your thigh up to drape around his waist, eyes darkening as he observed your fingers spreading your slick wetness around your folds.

“Pleeaaaaseeee, Mikey,” you pleaded, syllables so drawn out that it almost sounded like you were singing. “It’s been so long.”

“Fuck.” He brought his lower lip into his mouth, sucking for a moment as he lined the flushed head of his cock up with your dripping entrance. When he released it, it was several shades darker than it’d been before, completely swollen and glossy with spit. “I’ve been thinking about this since the last time I saw you.”

Taking a firm grip of your thighs, he slid effortlessly into your tight heat, your jaw unhinging at the intrusion; you’d definitely be feeling him for the next few days, his thick shaft stretching out your narrow walls to the point where it was almost painful. You liked it, though, liked the delicious burn that only he could create, reminding you of who you belonged to.

“Shit,” he hissed, pausing momentarily to compose himself before assuming a deep, hard rhythm to fuck you with. “You’re so fucking tight. Must not’ve fucked anyone as big as me while you were away.”

All you could manage was a broken moan, your head lolling back towards the ceiling. He bottomed out inside you, bringing himself down to press his chest against yours, indulging in the feel of your warm, wet cunt as it spasmed around his massive length. When you started whining for more, he retracted his hips back until only the head of his cock was inside you, slamming back inside so hard that you were sent halfway up the bed.

“Oh god, Michael…” Your fingernails scraped aimlessly along the warm skin of his back, eyelids flickering open and shut in a fucked-out daze. You’d slept with a handful of guys at college, but none of them even came close to fucking you the way Michael did. He was just… special.

Fuck, I love him.

The thought startled you; you’d almost been able to forget about the little epiphany you’d had, that night in Florida when you and Michael sat side-by-side by the ocean. But now that you were with him— under him, taking every last agonizing inch of his cock, it became obvious that those feelings had remained stagnant.

After all the boys you’d been through at college, you still loved him.

God, were you fucked.

“Missed my baby girl so much,” Michael murmured, tucking your hair behind your ear and peering down at you. His forehead was glowing, the sides of his face framed with cute, damp curls of blond hair; he was so beautiful, you thought. How had you survived so long without him?

He impaled you again with a sharp upwards thrust, a string of expletives passing your lips and mixing with the lewd sounds of sex swimming through the air. “I missed you— fuck!— too.”

“Yeah, I could tell,” he said, tucking his head into the crook of your neck and running his tongue along the salty skin. “Your pussy is fucking dripping for me.”

“Keep going,” you panted, wetting your chapped lips; with each brutal thrust of Michael’s cock, you bucked your hips forward to meet him halfway, desperate for all that he had to offer. “Feels so fucking good.”

“Yeah? You like that? Like how I split you open?” His hips pounded against yours with a bruising intensity, his chest pinning you down as you writhed beneath his lean frame. His voice was becoming hoarse, breaths short and choppy, letting you know that he was close.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, more…” Your affirmations were like a prayer, encouraging Michael to fuck you even deeper, his torso making electric contact with your clit as he moved his body in time with yours. “Make me cum, Mikey, please..”

The wind was knocked from your lungs each time he pumped his length into you, and by the time the coil in your stomach was unwinding, you were struggling to catch your breath. You ran your hands through Michael’s sweat-soaked hair, letting the strands stretch around your fingers as you tugged at the root; Your toes curled when Michael administered a particularly hard thrust inside you, your lips falling open in a silent scream; there was a burst of brilliant colors behind your eyelids as you finally reached your climax, your thighs shaking as they clasped firmly around Michael’s waist.

Like a perfect teen-movie cliché, Michael came just as you did; the feeling of his hot load as it spilled deep inside your cunt was a welcomed one, and your spongey inner walls instinctively clamped down, milking his cock for all it was worth.

With a throaty grunt, Michael pulled out of you, his cum dribbling crudely down your inner thigh and onto his bedspread, which he didn’t appear to pay any attention to. Lying down beside you, he sighed, bare chest shining with slick perspiration.

“I missed doing that,” Michael rasped, eyes focused up towards the ceiling rather than on you.

“So did I,” you said, tracing idle patterns along the expanse of Michael’s torso, watching his stomach rise and fall with each breath he took. “I can’t wait to have you all Christmas break.”

Michael’s lips turned downwards at the corners, his eyebrows knitting together in a pained display. “Oh. Yeah.”

It seemed as though he’d wanted to say more, but he pressed his lips shut into a thin line, Adam’s apple bobbing. What the hell? All at once you felt nauseous- there was something about the way he’d said those two words that made you very, very uneasy.

You sat up, your mind already starting to overflow with horrid possibilities. “What, Michael?”

“I, um. I have to tell you something.” Michael’s eyes darted throughout the room before settling on his palms. You frowned, mouth going dry at his apparent reluctance to talk to you, thoughts racing in all directions to try and pinpoint what exactly he might say.

“Michael…”

“So. Um.” He was stalling, extending his arms up so his palms were flat on his forehead, still refusing to look at you as he contemplated his words. “So you remember over the summer when I spilled Red Bull on my laptop?”

You raised an eyebrow. Where exactly was he going with this? “Yeah?”

“And remember how I would borrow my mom’s laptop to play video games while I was waiting for it to get repaired?”

“Yes, I remember. Can you just get to the point?” You were growing impatient, the anxiety increasing with each additional second that Michael continued to leave you in the dark.

“Okay, well…” He inhaled sharply. “I was borrowing her laptop one night and ended up looking at the search history because, well… you can probably guess why. Anyway. I ended up seeing all these searches for, like, new apartments and divorce lawyers.”

Oh shit. Divorce lawyers? Was he about to say what you were thinking he was about to say? “You mean…?”

Michael held up a hand as if to say let me finish, and you held your tongue. “So like, I asked her about it. And she told me that her and your dad are, like, splitting up or whatever. But she told me not to mention anything about it in case they ended up working shit out.”

You didn’t understand— wasn’t this good news? If your parents divorced, wouldn’t you finally be able to be with Michael the way you wanted? You forced down the giddiness that started to bubble up from your stomach and into your throat, knowing that there had to be a catch if Michael was acting so serious.

“So our parents are getting a divorce?”

“Well… there’s more.” He licked his lips, finally gathering the courage to look at you, the expression on his face so grim that it scared you a little. “She found an apartment in California. And she’s moving us there next month.”

California!?

No, this couldn’t be happening. How could this be happening? This was perhaps even worse than the predicament you were already in. If Michael moved to California, it was pretty fucking likely that you’d never see him again.

“I… what? And you’ve known all this for how long!?” Your voice was pitched several octaves higher now, eyes watering uncontrollably, and you felt as though you were on the brink of having a total fucking meltdown.

“I always thought there was a chance they’d get things worked out, or that my mom would change her mind about moving so far away. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I already knew you were sad about us going away to college, so I just thought-”

“-Answer the question, Michael! How long have you known this for?” Hot, angry tears were falling down your face and onto your bare chest, your entire body shaking with an overwhelming mixture of rage and despair.

He sighed. “Since August.”

Your mouth fell open in disbelief. How could he have hidden this from you for so long? “And you never thought to tell me? So I could at least come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably never see you again once you move?”

“I didn’t wanna ruin the rest of our time together,” he said softly, eyes glossy with tears that were still yet to fall. “I fucked up, okay? I should’ve told you as soon as I found out. But I kept thinking that maybe something would change, and…I don’t know. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

“Fuck,” you mumbled. Your limbs felt numb and heavy, your heart hollow. “Why did your mom have to choose fucking California, of all places?”

“I dunno. I think it has to do with this weird religion thing she’s into,” he said. “Look, (y/n), if I had any choice, I’d stay here. But you know I can’t afford my own place right now.”

“I know. It’s just-“ you collapsed backwards, your back making contact with the bed below with a soft thud. “This is so fucking unfair. We’re finally able to be together- like, really be together. But of course there has to be a catch.”

“Remember what I said, (y/n)? How if things are meant to be, they will be?” It sounded to you like Michael was attempting to make sense of a senseless situation, but you let him speak, somewhat comforted by his words. “I only have to stay in California until I can afford my own place. And I’ll still be going to the same college, so we won’t be too far from each other during the school year.”

Your college was a five hour drive away from Michael’s. Would he really be willing to make such a long trip up to see you? Would you be willing to take a trip to see him, with the new knowledge looming on your conscience that he would no longer be an arm’s length away once the school year was up? You wanted to be optimistic, but how could you be? A fresh wave of tears escaped your eyes, blurring your vision, but your cries faded to soft whimpers when Michael pulled you up against his chest.

You tried not to remind yourself of the fact that this would likely be one of the last times you’d be able to feel him there against you, one of the last times you’d absorb the heat from his skin, his distinct scent overtaking you like a natural aphrodisiac, intoxicating you.

You tried to reason with reality: if the universe had tried so hard to keep you apart all this time, maybe you and Michael being together had simply not been written in the stars (or at least that’s what you tried to convince yourself— how could a connection so strong not be meant to be?, you asked yourself dejectedly). The way you felt for Michael was special, unlike anything else you’d ever experienced before. He was a natural high, a gust of fresh springtime air, a golden ray of good in a gray-black world of bad.

But, as the saying went, all good things must come to an end. Don’t they?

Perhaps you’d always known, in the very back of your mind, that things would never work out. Perhaps you’d always known that your heart would wind up broken (no, not broken— incinerated). The cards had never been in your favor, and there had been a hundred million warning signs that you’d blatantly ignored time and time again.

But it hurt.

And you doubted it would ever stop hurting. The pain of losing Michael might one day fade from a stabbing agony to a dull ache, but that initial wound would likely never heal completely.

The only thing left to do now was stay entangled in Michael’s warmth for as long as possible, and make weary peace with the tragic ending your time with Michael had come to.

“If we survived being stepsiblings, we can survive this,” Michael said, his lips against your knotted hair, firm arms holding your naked body with a delicate tenderness that you weren’t used to. “You know that when I want something, I make sure that I get it. And what I want, (y/n), is you.”

You nodded, curling into Michael, your bodies fitting together like two perfectly-cut puzzle pieces.

“And I’m gonna have you.” You felt his hand smooth your hair out, and then he placed a kiss on your forehead, as if to imprint his words into your brain. “One day.”

Your eyes fluttered open, and all at once you were lost in a rushing sea of crystal blue, like the one that had lapped against the shore that night you’d fallen in love. As you reached up to caress Michael’s porcelain cheek, thumb grazing the rough stubble that had gathered along his jaw, you couldn’t help but believe him.

One day.

#mine #michael langdon #michael langdon fanfic #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon smut #cody fern #Duncan Shepherd #american horror story #ahs #ahs smut #ahs imagines #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon imagine #ahs season 8 #apocalypse #ahs apocalypse

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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years

Text

I Miss You

A/n: I hope this is good because I put this off for so long wanting to do it justice. And this is based very loosely off I Miss you.

Summary: you two broke up recently, and it's not sitting well with Shawn, even though he's the reason you broke up.

Requested by @it-isnt-in-myy-blood: Hi, I recently listened to the song 'I Miss you' (Clean Bandit, Julia Michaels). Maybe you could write a fic based on the song, angsty but with a fluff ending? Thank you... ❤️

***

Kinda_yourname

2,158 likes

Kinda_yourname Cabo sunsets >>>> anything else

•

It may have only been a week, but I'm missing it here! 😭

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I shut my phone off and toss it to the end of the bed. I should have been with her on that trip, but tour got in the way. I got in the way. It's crazy to think that if you asked me three weeks ago, I would have said that my girlfriend and I could overcome any obstacle thrown at us. But ask me again a week later, and I would tell you I was wrong. That being away from her for months at a time was too much for me and I broke it off because I thought it would be what was best for both of us in the end.

Now ask me if I still believe that.

I don't.

I haven't told anyone about us yet. I mean, everyone probably suspects because there haven't been Amy preshow FaceTime calls for good luck, and I'm not texting like a madman during dinner or when we're on our way to the venues. And I know she hasn't said anything to anyone either. How? Because for one, she hasn't blocked me on any social media - I know, I've checked at least ten times just within the last two hours. And two, she hasn't deleted the three pictures of us that she has on her Instagram. They're still there for everyone to see, me included.

Now my fingers are hovering over the keyboard and I'm staring at her name on my phone which is still My Love 😍, and I'll probably never change it. Because she is my love, and to strip her of that title because I'm an idiot just isn't fair.

Hey... I miss you

I type and backspace and type and backspace at least ten times. Because I want to text her. I want so badly to text her, but what if she doesn't want to hear from me? I wouldn't blame her if she didn't want to. I was the worst. Breaking up with her over the phone, no less because I was hurting being away from her. Never once did it occur to me that, yeah, she was hurting too. Or maybe she's with someone else. Maybe she's found somebody new. I want her happy, sure. But I selfishly still want to be the one that makes her happy.

Y/n I miss you.

I delete it one last time and open my photo gallery. I have an album saved for photos of us. Photos that I never got to post because she wanted to keep us as private as possible without being a secret. Which is why both of us only have 3 photos of each other on our Instagram. One for our six months, a year, and a year and a half. Two more months and we would have had a fourth picture.

I'm swiping through the photos landing on one I took of her when we were flying back to Canada after our first trip together. We're on a private jet because this was before we went public with our relationship. Andrew made sure that we weren't seen together in the airport or anything. She's sitting in the seat across the aisle from me, legs up to her chest, earphones in, head resting on her knees as she smiles brightly at me. There's another one of us curled up together on this tiny chair in a green room in the UK that Andrew sent me. She's literally curled into a ball on my lap, sleeping peacefully and my legs are spread in front of me, arms wrapped tightly around her body, head resting against the back of the seat.

The next one Brian took. We were at my place for a very impromptu new years party. It was just gonna be me and y/n, but she insisted we invite the guys over. And we did. It was one of the best nights of my life. We're watching the ball drop, with her in my lap, arm around my shoulder. I have one arm behind her back, the other on her thigh. I think Brian knew something was going to happen because at ten seconds to midnight he pulled his phone out and captured out first new years kiss. She's holding my face and I'm practically leaning her back against the couch. It looks like I'm seconds away from crawling on top of her, and it be honest, I probably was. She's just too perfect for me to resist.

Then there's one that Josiah took of us just a few months ago at the studio house. I had y/n on the kitchen counter, she was in these jean shorts that I loved her in and a button up that she'd stolen from my suitcase. Not that I was complaining. It looked far better on her than it did on me. I stood between her legs, my hands on her sides, slipping under the shirt a little bit, leaning her hips exposed. Not that either of u cared with her fingers threaded in my hair as casually as they were. My face is blocked by her figure, but there isn't a doubt in my mind that I was smiling entirely too wide standing between her legs.

The video that follows knocks the breath out of me. She giggling like crazy, but the camera isn't on her, it's on me. On my back, more specifically. She laughs even more when I wince at the feel of her fingers on my red, raw skin that is now home of her fingernail scratches.

"Baby? What happened to your back?" She asked, amused.

"Don't know," I said, turning to face her, my cheeks still holding a slight blush. "But I think the real question is, what happened to your neck, missy?" I pluck the phone from her hands and turn the camera to her where she's trying to cover her face. I manage, however, to take her hands in my free one and the camera focuses on the flourishing bruises that litter her beautiful neck, my favorite place to rest my head.

I close my eyes, the memory of that night filling my mind. Watching her come down from her high, my face still buried between her legs. The weight and cold touch of her hands as she pulled me up to her, into her, because she needed me closer. I can hear myself murmuring the words 'I love you' all over her skin, still remember the way her back arched when I hit the right spot again and again and her finger ran down my back over and over, once more and she probably would have drawn blood. And I may not be home, but I can smell her on the sheets, that constant aroma of warm vanilla penetrating my nostrils. God, do I miss her.

I'm only making it worse for myself by doing this, I know that. But I should feel bad. I lost the greatest thing in my life and I didn't need to. So I got back to our messages, but instead of going to type a new one, I scroll through, reading through our old texts. There's countless paragraphs of us professing our love for each other. Lots of random pictures sent, most from my side. There's conversations about getting a home together, and a dog. And her telling me how much she loves my family and me telling her how much they love her, how much they ask about her. It's all hitting me too hard right now.

And it doesn't help that im literally sobbing at 2 in the morning, in Paris. The city of love. The place she told me was her favorite trip to ever take with me. Where we stood atop the eiffle tower and I gave her a promise ring, a ring that said I would love her and keep her forever. A promise ring that was now probably in the ocean in Cabo because I tore us apart so easily.

I sit up suddenly, struggling to catch my breath. It takes a few minutes, but I'm able to pull myself out of this empty bed that would only be comfortable with y/n laying next to me. I'm scrambling through the room, picking up the pair of jeans I threw off my body earlier and slipping back into them. I find a torn work out shirt in the bottom of my back and push my head and arms through before throwing my youth hoodie over my already overheated upper body. My passport is sitting in my guitar case, and I grab both things without a second thought. My suitcase trailing behind me.

It's difficult booking a flight and carrying a suitcase and guitar all at once, but I get along just well enough and adjust myself in the lobby while I wait for a taxi. I don't text Andrew until I've made it to the airport and am in my seat on the plane, ready for take off.

Emergency... had to fly home. Promise to make it back in time for the Paris show.

And I turn my phone off before he can text or call me back. Because there isn't a damn thing that he could say that would keep me there in a city that's meant for lovers, when my lover is across the world instead of laying in my arms the way she should be.

I know I shouldn't be doing this. I know there is someone out there who is better for her. Someone who isn't constantly on the move. Someone who can come home to her every night and help her make dinner. Someone who can cuddle her until she falls asleep when she's having a particularly bad day. I know there's someone who can do those things.

But I also know that he won't love her the way I do. He won't know all the little things that I do. Like how she only uses a blue toothbrush. Always has. And he won't notice the tiny scar that she has on her right middle finger from when we tried to make dinner together one night and she cut herself. He probably won't know that she wakes up at 3:34 every single night, because she hasn't been able to sleep fully and soundly through the night since she was four years old. And he'll mess up the way she likes her tea, using tea bags instead of leaves. (She like the herbal taste that you get when you use the leaves. And she likes when you do two scoops of them, and two scoops of sugar, but just cane sugar, the rock sugar makes it too earthy. And of course, she drinks it on ice because she hates burning her tongue with hot drinks.)

I'm thinking way too much as I get off the plane, reluctantly turning my phone back on only to see texts from just about everyone I know. They're all asking where I am, but I ignore them, because what I'm about to do is far more important than anything they threaten me with. I have to make things right.

Standing in front of this door that I've stood in front of hundreds of times should make me feel at ease. Remembering all the times I had her pressed against the other side of the door because I just couldn't wait to have her all to myself. But if anything, it's making me more nervous. So nervous that my hands are shaking, palms sweating, my breathing is jagged and I know if I don't knock right now I might never get the chance again and I can't lose her for real this time. So without giving myself the chance to rethink, I knock on the door three times and I wait, handing in the pocket of my hoodie.

I wait a solid thirty seconds, which feel like an eternity, before the door finally opens and I see my beautiful girl. Her face is bare, hair only halfway straightened, and she's in those shorts I love and my old Led Zepplin t-shirt.

"Shawn," my name still sounds like heaven spilling from her lips. "What are you doing here?" She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, shifting her weight from one leg to the other before standing completely straight.

I didn't even realize I was crying until I sniffled and heard my voice crack with just three words, "I miss you."

"Shawn," she shook her head.

"I tried not to," I insisted, still standing like a fool on her door step. "I swear I did. But I couldn't stop. I looked through all our pictures and texts, and I couldn't stop myself from missing you. And I know I have no right to because I broke things off. But I was in Paris and I was miserable because Paris was your favorite place, and that was where I promised to love you forever, and I'm still keeping that promise. I was an idiot," I continue to ramble. "If there's a better word for that, then I'm that too, because I thought it would be easier if I broke things off. This tour was going to be so long and to go that long without each other, I was scared that it wouldn't be enough for you. But it's not what I wanted, y/n. It's not, and I just-"

"Shawn, stop."

I shut my mouth instantly, ready for her to tell me to leave. But what she does instead throws me completely off guard. She pulls me into the apartment and wraps her arms around my neck, burying her head deep in my chest.

"I miss you, too." She mumbles and I exhale slowly, only to inhale that scent that I love so much. The scent that is naturally her. She starts to pull away, and even though I don't want her to, I let her but she only leans back enough to take my face in her hands and before I even have time to blink, her soft lips are on mine and I'm whole again.

She's mine again and I'm never letting her go.

***

Tags: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel

This took me longer to write than it should have, but I kinda really like it. I hope you enjoyed and I'll see you Wednesday for more content! 💙

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes one shot #shawn peter raul #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #smfsource

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swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual · 4 years

Note

I'm beginning to think I might have celiac. Do you have any tips?

Well, first of all, go to your doctor with your concerns. Yes, even if it’s the USA, because celiac is a... kinda complex illness at times?? And will need a doctor’s verification, which you can only get while still on a gluten diet. You’ll get a blood test (and there’s also a panel thing you can do, because false negatives are a thing, but the names of all of them get me confused, so I suggest googling them for the names in case the doctor doesn’t know), and if it’s a positive test, they’ll want you to get an endoscopy (a super simple procedure where they put a tube with a camera down your throat to check your upper intenstine—it literally took me maybe a couple hours from check in to check out).

But like, most importantly??

Don’t freak out. If it’s celiacs, it’s gonna be fine. If it’s not, it’s still gonna be fine.

It may seem that you’re by yourself until you find more people with celiac, but there’s so many of us!! So even if you don’t interact much with the community, maybe follow the tags (if only to see everyone groaning and moaning about labeling... I am one of those people, haha).

But as for quick tips and tricks for the (potential) celiac

-first of all, until diagnosed, you have to stay on a gluten diet. So, I mean. Not to sound like a doomsday preper but if any time is the time to just eat every damn thing you’ve ever loved that has gluten in it, now is the time to eat it. (I personally gained like 5 pounds in two months I waited for the diagnosis tests to be done, I regret nothing. And if weight is a concern... well, first of all that’s about to get weird because celiac is weird, but I also _lost_ that weight quickly after.)

-Always know what gluten is. And don’t be afraid of that word. Just because everyone else doesn’t have to be concerned about a certain protein in wheat, barley, and rye (also watch out for oats, they are not your friend), doesn’t mean they get to be mean about it. This is literally your health—if there’s anytime you can snipe at someone, it’s regarding that.

-start looking at the things you already eat to see if they have gluten free (gf) labels. Gushers, for example-gluten free!!

-start saving for new cookwear. Yes, you’ll probably need new ones. Do NOT cross contaminate them, aka, use your new gf cooking supplies to make something with gluten. ESPECIALLY IF ITS WOODEN.

-people will forget, constantly. Be firm but polite until it’s ridiculous and it’s obvious they aren’t making an effort to learn. Then you may destroy them.

-also get a gf cook book.

-and check all the stores near you for different gf sections. I used to just do my groceries at a Walmart, now I also (and in fact usually/have mostly switched to) Kroger’s and Food Lion. If you have those stores, I suggest either. They’re usually (usually) good with labels.

-food is now even more expensive, but apparently if you track _your_ food costs versus _non gf foods_, you can get a tax break by claiming the extra cost is essentially your medicine. Don’t... quote me on that I know fuck all about taxes.

-most gf frozen pizzas suck. You’re gonna try them anyways but let me just go ahead and tell you. Freschetta is the best, I will fight someone on this, and Kroger brand is actually pretty good (add on garlic, oregano, parsley, and basil along with extra cheese for Even Better Pizza, to every pizza ever). Sadly, say goodbye to rising crust.

-you will have cravings for the most random things. Including foods you DONT LIKE. Because you can’t have them. But gradually your palette will expand for your new... selective diet.

-you will both hate gf fad people and love them. Mostly hate though.

-people ARE looking for a cure, but be patient, it may be a while. But it’s good to be hopeful—just be realistic about how it might not be up to how you want it.

-no, there is no pill you can take. Surprisingly, this will irritate the people around you more than it will you.

-if you can’t cook—yeah maybe learn. If you don’t make, say, mozzarella sticks using gf panko and rice flour, no one will. No, seriously. No one. (Unless you live in a gf haven, in which case—share your location I just waNNA KNOW-)

-you will be fine. In fact, you’ll feel better!!

-rice is your friend. Just go ahead and get a rice cooker.

-if it’s not labeled gf, you’re at your own risk.

-even if it is tbh because labeling laws are Awful.

-did I mention labeling annoyances because—

-people will call it a gluten allergy. It is not a gluten allergy. You will still need to list it under allergies in every paperwork thing you do for the rest of forever. Including the DOCTOR’S OFFICE.

-you may loose weight. You may gain weight. You might do both. So long as it’s not a severe or dramatic drop/gain, do not be too alarmed

-you will find random things about your body that you didn’t know was off due to celiac that will suddenly present itself. For example, my _feet shrunk half a size_ because of water retention.

-your search history will be weird.

-vitamins. If nothing else, vitamin b12 just TRUST ME ON THIS.

-find restaurants near you with gf things. Ask hard questions. Don’t be afraid to err on the side of caution and not eat there.

-some celiacs report having a higher sense of smell. This is... a thing.

-you will, at some point, go through the bread aisle and feel kinda disgusted, maybe nauseous. Surprise, airborne flour.

-love how your body is getting better and healing, even when it’s... really weird about it.

-pack your own food. Constantly.

-gf soy sauce. It is also your new friend.

-no but seriously, rice rice RICE. I didn’t even like rice until a year before diagnosis but liKE.

-everyone will have questions every time you tell someone. You do not have to be their personal search engine on this illness. We have smartphones. We have public libraries with computer internet access. You are not responsible for the education of someone else regarding your body.

-... people will ask what DO you eat. You can be honest, or you can just say you eat nosey people. People forget that that’s not... a normal question, for the most part, and that it’s actually not their business. (That said, people will ask kindly sometimes!! Or they’re trying to make sure they don’t gluten you by accident—and yes, gluten as a verb, this is more of an experience than something explainable. So don’t be mean just to be mean—but you also don’t HAVE to deal with Quincy Question getting up in your business.)

-people will say they could NEVER do it. They would. I did. You mighty have to. _They Would._ it sounds like a compliment at first. It quickly stops being one.

Essentially.... there’s a million and one inconveniences, I’m not gonna lie. But do NOT go back on yourself, no matter what food you miss, it is not worth it.

Most importantly though—breathe. Celiacs sucks but I’m honestly glad to found out. I mean I’d drop it in a heartbeat if there was like, a cure or a medication, but I was very sick—didn’t even know how much until later—it’s much better that I know. And if it is celiac, you’ll begin to feel better soon.

Also im not kidding, go join some gf and celiac tags and communities. It makes all the little annoyances better.

And celebrate the little things!! Gf cake is a THING THAT EXISTS.

#im... not sure if this. helped or not #but i hope it did!!!#best of luck friend #celiac #celiac disease #ask me anything #blessed be ❤️❤️

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dolansmith · 5 years

Text

Thoughts on the “Trisha Drama”

I’m going to preface this with my previous thoughts of both sides. I didn’t know who Trisha was until after I found out about the vlog squad about a year ago. I didn’t mind her, i thought she brought out an interesting perspective to the group. Then I thought she was literally off her rocker.

I loved the vlog squad bc I found them in a really difficult time in my life and they kept me from getting too deep into a depression. While I saw some of their mistakes, I saw the best in them all and hoped for change or at least some kind of accountability.

This is gonna be really long and idk if anyone is even gonna read this/care lol but Im just so frustrated with a lot of the people that are into the vs. Like after really looking into everything that happened, I felt kind of ashamed to be backing the vs bc they’re doing some fucked up stuff tbh.

So lets do a basic rundown of mistakes made.

Mistakes in their public relationship: -Trisha: made sexual jokes about jason’s friends, started arguments about her insecurities instead of starting a conversation. -Jason: made sexual jokes about girl’s a decade younger than trisha (and 2 and a half decades younger than him), would complain about having to go do things trisha liked doing and would pout the whole time (i.e. disneyland and a couple of the hamilton viewings), would egg on trishas insecurities, literally dumped her on a daily basis and call her crazy when she voiced said insecurities and then would basically get back together within an hour and practically give everyone whiplash, also talked about her weight and eating habits CONSTANTLY (fucking dick) -David: inputted himself in their relationship, recorded their fights and encouraged their toxic behavior to both his friends and his audience

Mistakes in the “official” breakup: -Trisha: talking about jason’s ex and kids, comparing david to ted bundy (a lil wild but tbh not that big of a deal bc no one actually believed thats what she meant but anyway), the brandon thing (we’ll come back to this) -Jason: continuing to make jokes about fucking a 19/20 year old despite his gf saying she didn’t like it, not putting an end to David “pressuring him” to making said jokes, the brandon thing -David: ignoring his “friend” when she said not to put something in his vlog, putting his image and career first

Mistakes after: -Trisha: constantly going on rants about david and Jason. -Jason: staying in contact with trisha secretly. (ill get back to this too) -David: putting his image above all else.

Now we’re going to get into some uncomfortable hot takes. I’m gonna get a whole lotta hate from stans but tbh idc anymore

The Brandon Thing (I’ve done some digging since her video exploding at Jeff):

-Brandon began a relationship with a high schooler. She was underage the first time they had sex. There’s receipts and timelines set up. I’d recommend Petty Paige’s Youtube video on it for specifics. -Lot’s of vs fans say she only brought it up when her and Jason ended so that meant she didn’t really care, but I’d like to point out that she has stated (on more than one occasion) that she voiced her thoughts on this multiple times to the group in Private and no one cared. Y’all are always going on about how she should say whatever she has to say in private but when she does and is ignored, what then? Just a thought. -Let’s also bring the rest of the vs up in this. How come none of them ever said anything? They’re the ones still out here tolerating him. Pretty hypocritical. I’m not gonna aim anything at the girls bc none of them have Brandon in their videos but the guys? Jeff, Jason, David, Todd and I think Scott too, have all had Brandon in at least one video. They’re out here talking shit about Trisha amongst each other but are friends with a predator? Lmao Okay, cool.

Jason Keeping in Contact for months:

-This was dumb. -As someone who has suffered from mental health issues and has been in a mental hospital and suffered from attachment AND abandonment issues, Trisha would’ve been better off had Jason ended things and kept them that way. Instead, he ended their public relationship and friendship. He kept her a secret from even his “friends” and then dragged on their “friendship” for months. For what? He should’ve just given her her things and closure and kept it pushing. -On that, why did he keep her belongings for so long and refuse to give it back until she said something public about it? He ignored her calls and texts about her very expensive things for weeks. Then she made a video calling him out on it, and she got her stuff back. -I’m seeing a pattern here, aren’t you?

The Jeff Thing (did some digging on him too...by digging i mean google):

-This one makes my blood boil for several reasons. ESPECIALLY AFTER TODAYS VIDEO. It rlly put everything into perspective omg. -The starbucks story that Trisha told was the same everywhere: ‘I saw Jeff at Starbucks and said hey. He ignored me and was such a pussy he left his order at the counter after having paid.’ His masculinity is SO FRAGILE that he twisted it into ‘I’m not gonna be fake with someone who fucked over my friend. Can’t fuck them up either tho lol’ and ‘i’m not gonna make shit easy on you, i’m gonna make them feel weird’. What a baby lmfao -His assault joke rubbed me the wrong way. I know Jeff’s schtick is the whole “I was in jail for a few months and I was a drug dealer I’m big and scary” blah blah blah. Listen, I’ve met men that have been in jail longer (he was in for only 4 months he once said I think) and had worse upbringings than he did and HAD to do some of the shit Jeff was doing (which lemme remind yall, was on his own accord). The men that I know that have lived similar and worse lifestyles than Jeff, would never and I REPEAT NEVER, make a joke about assaulting a Woman over “fucking my friend over”, when the situation was what it was. Which was: an exposé, basically. That’s some petty shit, it’s for the birds. (Also, Todd and Jay’s jokes about the assault joke? Ain’t it. They were just as bad as Jeff’s original joke.) -Do y’all know what Jeff’s been to jail for? He tried to assault someone that worked at a 7-Eleven after he and his dumbass friends were fucking around in the store and got yelled at and ended up assaulting a woman walking by. -He also talked about her mental health issues. Maybe he wasn’t talking about her specifically, but it was REAL specific. He said that it was crazy that a “psychopath” that’s been in a mental hospital still had a platform on youtube. That they shouldn’t have one. Trisha made a really good point of, “some could say the same about your time in jail.” Because they could. And mental health can be managed. So can your outrageous anger issues, Jeff. This was really ignorant on his part. -I also want to remind everyone about the time he said he didn’t understand how men could be sexually harassed. That all you had to do was say no. -He says he likes to “make things awkward” and make everything a joke when really he’s just being ignorant and doesn’t want to get real hate when he gets inevitably called out

Trisha’s “Dirt”:

-Trisha doesn’t know anything that the rest of us don’t. We’re just all IGNORING it. Why? Bc David’s charming and Todd and Jeff are pretty? Ridiculous. This is the last vlog squad post i’m going to make because I’m done. So the following is going to be a rundown on the “dirt” on them that made me come to the decision that I wouldn’t be supporting them anymore. I’ll also put my own thoughts and comments underneath in case y’all are curious. Staying silent about these situations is the same as complacency. -Brandon Calvillo: Covered this but to reiterate, he dated a high schooler and slept with her/dated her knowing her age. He then lied about it in a video to cover his tracks. *I am well aware that she was months from being 18. This doesn’t make it okay. What does a 26 year old have in common with a 17 year old? And just because this is the first girl we know about, doesn’t mean she’s the first at all or even the last. -Durte Dom: He was accused of assault at vidcon. *This hasn’t been confirmed. But it also hasn’t even been discussed. This girl is getting hate from vs stans and the vs have stayed silent. I can understand not wanting to show attention to people who make accusations for clout, but assault is serious and should at the Very Least be acknowledged privately or legally bc it could be considered slander. Don’t let your fans (or your friend’s fans) do your dirty work. -Jeff Wittek: He has major anger issues. Makes jokes about assaulting women after actually having assaulted one in the past (accidentally but doesnt take away from what he did) and has made jokes about sexual harassment against men not being viable *tbh he has a “pretty white boy complex”. Meaning he knows that he can say and do what he wants and most people will let it slide bc he’s a pretty white boy. No education needed. -Jason Nash: Is friend’s with a predator, is quite possibly setting an awful example to his kids, namely his daughter. *Listen. I’m a feminist, a woman should be able to decide what to do with her body after she turns 18. But being groomed and hit on by grown ass men when you’re barely legal, ain’t it. If you want to and feel ready, there’s nothing anyone can do to stop it BUT 9.9 times out of 10, that fucks a woman up in the future. One day, she is going to see her dad hitting on a 19/20 year old Tana and see that her dad’s 26 year old best friend dated a 17/18 year old and lied about specifics and might think that’s normal and how men should treat her. I won’t support that shit.

And as for all the other member’s of the vs, they either don’t care enough about what their friends or friends’ friends are doing, or they’re not bothering to even consider it’s happening and that isn’t cool either.

Be better.

As for Trisha, she’s had her own faults and fuckups, no doubt about it. I’m not a big fan of her content but i FELT for her. Her name has been dragged through the mud because of this more than anything else and it doesn’t sit right with me when her only real fuckup in THIS situation was bringing the ex and kids into it the way she did. Everything else either could have been avoided or she had a right to say to the public since they put everything about the relationship out in the open as much as she did. If Jason and David had reached out and admitted their own mistakes and asked her to stop talking about them online the way she was, she probably would’ve chilled out. What happened, what they and their fans (us) have done has been nothing short of traumatizing, no doubt. The way these 30 year old boys (Jeff, Todd, Scott and Jay) are reacting to her? They’re the real joke if we’re being honest.

Note: I’d also like to say that if you do still support them and have differing views than I do, I’ll respect you and your views no matter what. Everyones entitled to their opinion and thoughts. These are just mine.

#trisha paytas #vlog squad #jeff wittek #david dobrik #jason nash #durte dom #brandon calvillo #scott sire #most of these men are manipulative af #as much as i love zane matt and heath #they dont speak up either #neither do any of the women which is borderline heartbreaking #rant #I did my best to make everything clear but if theres any confusions or questions or if you just wanna have a discussion about it lmk #Discontinuing Speak Now.

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phantom-muses · 4 years

Text

major fucking trigger warning for:

rape, emotional abuse, pedophilia, general abusive relationships, suicidal thoughts/attempts and self harm

i gotta get these off my chest because i dont trust anyone who knows me irl to see me the same way as they did before after this post.

With valentines day coming up all i can do is relive all my trauma from my abusive exes and god fucking damn it its so hard im crying while im typing this.

i dont even lnow where to start rhis will be just a massive rambling mess because im a mess but i have to get this whole this off my chest or i swear im gonna end myself.

guess ill start in the beginning. when i was 11 i was getting groomed and manipulated by a 20 year old man. once i turned 12 he started asking me to send him pictures and you can imagine what kind. i of course being a naive little girl though he loved me and didn't know exactly why he wanted those images.

i started cutting myself around this time and attempted suicide for the first time

moving forward to 14, i had a crush on a kid from my class and he manipulated me into thinking he had feelings for me so he could use me for his own sexual gratification. he was the first guy i kissed and he would routinely sexually harass me in public to the point i broke down crying in the middle of class because i couldn't take him and his friends groping me.

again, more sh and attempts

15, first relationship with my first girlfriend, all was great in the beginning until we were alone in my house and i said i didn't wanna go further than kissing (due to trauma but i just said i wasn't ready) and she got kinda pissed off and our relationship went down hill from there and i was just left feeling like a burden every time i tried talking to her.

few months after that i started dating a drug dealer. he fingered me without my consent with his friend in the same room as us. he also took advantage of me one time when i was high off my mind and couldn't possibly consent haha....

16, started regularly doing drugs basically so i wouldn't feel as empty, i let one of my friends take my virginity on my 16th birthday party because i refuse to count the drug dealer as having taken my virginity, felt pretty fucking empty but at least i felt like i sort of had control over my body. until i started dating this foreign guy who also ended up toying with me without my consent but this time in public so i felt i couldn't really do anything.

after that whole catastrophe, i started sexting random guys i met online just because i felt wanted by them. one of them violated my trust and spread my nudes yeehaw aint that great. anyway hes not important, i started catching feelings for one of the guys i was just casually sexting, that was a bad idea, he and i sort of became a thing.

things were great for the first 1 and a half years, then he got hooked on heroin and started emotionally abusing me, made me feel as if i was nothing but a burden and hysterical whenever i expressed any dissatisfaction with how he treated me, he manipulated me into believing i was a bad girlfriend for feeling upset over how he acted. made it seem as if i was nothing but a nuisance. we became an on and off thing because he would randomly ditch me

i almost started cutting myself again after having been almost a year clean

im 18 by this point here.

i started seeing sorta this guy irl, by seeing i mean fucking. another mistake because he was horrible and he raped me and clearly had a thing for rape play because even before that he would like to pretend he was trying to keep me quiet which just brought back some memories yikes. he constantly would try to pressure me into doing things i didn't want to the point of yelling at me for not wanting to do them.

i started talking to another guy online who seened nice, gave me an excuse to break it off with my rapist.

the guy may have saved me from my rapist but he was even worse actually... he was only into how young looking i am, he liked 13 year old girls (as i found out a month ago) and the fact i look like im 14 when im 19 was just perfect for him.... he was extremely controlling, didn't want me talking to any guys that aren't gay and no women who arent straight. he said awful things to me... hes the reason i developed anorexia again after having been okay for 3 years.... he constantly talked about me losing weight and becoming skinny. he admitted to wanting to rape me... only reason i had stayed with him was because of how broken i was. he broke me even further, i had to get my medication trippled, i started cutting myself again and i attmpted suicide again, only reason im not dead right now is how high i was and i couldn't go through with it the way i wouldve been able to had i been sober.

i left him a month ago? i think? i have no idea. im just sitting in my bathtub right now high on xanax so i wont have a panic attack from these flashbacks im having.

i have decided im going go back on track in my ana journey. i havent gained weight but my progress has stagnated these past 2-3 months. ana is my only coping mechanism to not end everything.

#vent #may be triggering #anarexx #triggertime

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ninatastic · 5 years

Photo

@kay-licious how dare u (thanks <3) @silent-calling youre doing amazing sweetie

1. Are looks important in a relationship?

I wouldnt call it a key factor but it’s important to feel attraction towards your partner

2. Are relationships ever worth it?

sure! If it’s a healthy one definitely :D

3. Are you a virgin?

nah

4. Are you in a relationship?

yeh!

5. Are you in love?

I’d say so!

6. Are you single this year?

7. Can you commit to one person?

yes

8. Describe your crush

it me bf

9. Describe your perfect mate

same as above c:

10. Do you believe in love at first sight?

no, only when it comes to animals c;

11. Do you ever want to get married?

thats a dream of mine tbh

12. Do you forgive betrayal?

I guess every healthy person would say no but yes, I’d absolutely do (only the first time tho, after the second time you gotta ask yourself if it’s really worth it)

13. Do you get jealous easily?

in regard to my bf: I used to but it’s a hell of a lot less nowadays. In regard to people in general, sometimes, especially when im not doing well mentally

14. Do you have a crush on anyone?

me bf

15. Do you have any piercings?

just have my ears pierced!

16. Do you have any tattoos?

no but maybe soon

17. Do you like kissing in public?

only if its sweet forehead or cheek kisses, or quick kisses on the mouth or hand kisses

20. Do you shower every day?

yes though I gotta admit I really have to force myself. Not because I like being stinky but because everything is kinda difficult sometimes

21. Do you think someone has feelings for you?

bruh I sure hope my bf does;;

22. Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?

nah

23. Do you think you can last in a relationship for 6 months and not cheat?

I’ve been in a relationship for 5 and a half years now, I think so

24. Do you think you’ll be married in 5 years?

it is possible but who tf knows

25. Do you want to be in a relationship this year?

idk, to be frank: I think my life would be a bit easier if I wasnt in a relationship, or if I hadnt been in a relationship for the past 1-2 years. And I often feel like im more of a burden to my bf than anything else. But thats a different story

26. Has anyone told you they don’t want to ever lose you?

as in losing touch with me? I guess so

27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?

a song yes and it was awkward as hell ajhajdfha and people have done drawings for me which is <3<3<3<3<3<<3<3<33

28. Have you ever been cheated on?

Yup

29. Have you ever cheated on someone?

very very unfortunately yes, and just like a bunch of you guys I was this close to killing myself. I was in a very bad place which I know is not an excuse for this. I still think about it even if it’s been a time since then but I think I cqan never forgive myself because of that

30. Have you ever considered plastic surgery? If so, what would you change about your body?

often but im too much of a scared cat dsfskjf idk though, I would love to be much more petite size wise

31. Have you ever cried over a guy/girl?

oh often

32. Have you ever experienced unrequited love?

yeah;; I’m not exactly pretty or popular, so puberty was hard

33. Have you ever had sex with a man?

hell yeah

34. Have you ever had sex with a woman?

:( no

35. Have you ever kissed someone older than you?

yeh!!

36. Have you ever liked one of your best friends?

Yeah and it’s difficult to be normal then aaaaaahhhhhhh

37. Have you ever liked someone who your friends hated?

some of my friends have a strong disliking towards my current bf but i dont know if you can call it hate

38. Have you ever liked someone you didn’t expect to?

yeah and it ruined me for a while

39. Have you ever wanted someone you couldn’t have?

uuuuhh not really I think

40. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone?

whenever I write bday cards I always put a poem in it :D

41. Have you had sex so far this year?

hella

42. How long can you just kiss until your hands start to wander?

depends on how thirsty I am

43. How long was your longest relationship?

5 and a half years and counting

44. How many boyfriends/girlfriends have you had?

2-3

45. How many people did you kiss in 2011?

uuhh I was 14, no one

46. How many times did you have sex last year?

HELLA

47. How old are you?

22 my dudes

48. If the person you like says they like someone else, what would you say?

I#d try to play it cool because internally I’m panicking, someone help me

49. If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend, what is your favorite thing about him/her?

I love about my bf how you can ALWAYS count on him when shit gets down, even if he hasnt talked to a friend for a good while and they’re like “hey I need you”, he’ll be there in a sec Also that he is still able to surprise me

50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?

jsdfhsjdfks GO AWAY, I’d say while closing the door and shutting the blinds quicker than lightning

51. Is there a boy/girl who you would do absolutely everything for?

yeah, but that’s probably because I have bpd and depressions

52. Is there anyone you’ve given up on? Why?

yeah, I tried to help them on all occassions, so much that I ruined my own life partially and made myself sick. But whatever I did or said, they apparently want to suffer, so i gave up trying.

53. Is there someone mad because you’re dating/talking to the person you are?

yeah my abuser probably

54. Is there someone you will never forget?

unfortunately yes and fortunately yes

55. Share a relationship story.

uuuuuuhhhhh; I dont really know what to write here. Guess I’ll never forget when my bf held a kitten (which was only a week old) in his hands and he almost cried because he loved the baby so much. Haha, he was afraid of crushing it though because it was much smaller than the palms of his hands

56. State 8 facts about your body

I gained a lot of weight since last year which is why I avoid posting or taking pics, but according to everyone else you dont see it that much (?); my hair is getting its natural curliness back; I fucked up my knee so I’ll have knee surgery next year; I bruise easily; I have a shit ton of scars; I love my super green eyes; I have thicc thighs and if I’m very emotional I get red spots all over my body

57. Things you want to say to an ex

to my first ever bf: fuck u lmao to the second bf I had: I’m so sorry for everything and I hope that you found your place :)

58. What are five ways to win your heart?

uuuhhh be sweet and understanding, be funny, be somewhat smart, dont be a mean asshole and be nice to other people (especially kids) and animals and also be able to be fascinated by small things

59. What do you look like? (Post a picture!)

yikes

60. What is the biggest age difference between you and any of your partners?

my current bf is 8 years older than me

61. What is the first thing you notice in someone?

how open and nice they are? Idk I always choose my ppl to hang out with according to this

62. What is the sexiest thing someone could ever do for/to you?

even though I’m a switch I have a big preference for being the sub, so if someone can dominate me and yknow do stull like carry me princess style or something im all like !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

63. What is your definition of “having sex”?

everything that comes after kissing imo

64. What is your definition of cheating?

I think as soon as you try to pursue someone emotionally that already counts as cheating

65. What is your favourite foreplay routine?

kissing, grinding, I love when someone talks dirty to me

66. What is your favourite roleplay?

if it aint too much of a tmi i’d love to admit that we have a collar and a leash so (not thinking about pet play uughfjhjsdfkhsd, just yknow someone is able to drag me to them like this or being held in place while being taken from behind is p nice)

67. What is your idea of the perfect date?

something something being outside in the nature and also good food

68. What is your sexual orientation?

69. What turns you off?

super super wet kisses where also my nose somehow gets stuck in someone elses mouth Like dude r u a vacuum cleaner sdfhsdkjhfks

70. What turns you on?

being manhandled

71. What was your kinkiest wet dream?

idk I dont really have a lot of wet dreams and usually theyre not very kinky but rather sweet and slow

72. What words do you like to hear during sex?

I like dirty talk, so imma leave that open

73. What’s something sweet you’d like someone to do for you?

i love to get flowers, or lil stuff that reminds us of our friendship or something, self made/home made stuff is always !!!!!!!!!!!!

74. What’s the most superficial characteristic you look for?

probably hands? I love it when girls have super slender hands and when boys have rough and big hands

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

I already answered that c:

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

I have a few stories I’m proud of! But I really love this one: When I was little I grew up in a village in which like 300-400 people lived (maximum) and next to us lived this sweet older couple who always gave us sweets and vegetable for our parents, or they brought us stuff from when they went on vacation. The man is now constantly sick, he suffers from parkinson and you see the early statges of dementia setting in. A while ago he wanted to go and get the German version of fish and chips with his wife but due to him needing a ton of surgeriesw constantly he wasnt able to go out with his wife. When my mom told me this I was like wtf u cant just tell me this, I’m too soft. So I went and got fish and chips from the best market around us for him and flowers for his wife, despite the fact that I havent seen them in YEARS. When I arrived at their front door both of them hugged me and cried a bit

77. What’s your opinion on age differences in relationships?

not bad if everything is consensual and if there’s a power balance thats equal

78. What’s your dirtiest secret?

I think the leash thing is one of the kinkiest things we’ve ever done tbh

79. When was the last time you felt jealous? Why?

yesterday a bit when my bf went out wth friends and had a few beers while I was stuck at home with the thought that I can never have a beer again dkadfjahdf as stupid as that sounds but I always enjoyed these chill evenings with a beer and friends

80. When was the last time you told someone you loved them?

this morning when I cuddled my cats :D

81. Who are five people you find attractive?

my bf and many videogame and anime characters, also my best female friend is hella attractive, also some of my friends are to die for

82. Who is the last person you hugged?

my bf!!

83. Who was your first kiss with?

my first bf sdfjsdfs

84. Why did your last relationship fail?

it didnt really work out, it seemed as he was more interested in saying “hey im in a relationship!” than in me, hah;;

85. Would you ever date someone off of the Internet?

yeah, sure

#ask #jeezus

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floofsta-x · 7 years

Text

Funny I Met You [M]

genre;; Realistic, College!AU

pairing;; Chae Hyungwon x Lee Jooheon [Hyungheon]. There’s mentions of Changki (Im Changkyun x Yoo Kihyun) too.

plot ;;

A curious story of love between a saxophonist and a tall, beautiful boy he meets at a gig.

⚠️ warnings;; fluff, smut

words;; 10011 (10k)

author’s notes;; I NEEDED SOME HYUNGHEON IN MY LIFE OK. kdjsf;adsj; As always, real life is the inspiration for this. I am a music major and saxophonist, like Jooheon is in this fic. Thank the Universe for finally letting me write some legit Sax!Jooheon.

Lee Jooheon never liked big social and public events. Often, things were far too cramped, and he held his ability to breathe in high esteem. Fairs, conventions, parties, anything, really, made him anxious. So, the first moment he could, he tended to escape, get some fresh air and reassure himself that the outside world existed. Nobody would catch him dead in a crowd, much less one with a bunch of sweaty, drunk people, but alas, that was where he was. The college Junior scrunched up his nose at the smell of alcohol, lingering in the air and on people’s breaths.

Beer festival. Normally, Jooheon wouldn't dare even think those two things in the same sentence. Yet, he was here, wandering among the crowd, because of the one thing in life he loved most--music. No wonder he had chosen to be a music major, though it required sacrifice. He was willing to go the distance to achieve his dream, though. That seemed to mean, he’d put himself in uncomfortable situations for it, like right now. See, Jooheon’s Jazz/pop combo would perform soon, and they’d get paid in cash for their efforts. So, the saxophonist had jumped at going. There was no way he was missing a gig with some of his closest friends. He could deal with the venue when the band--his band--surrounded him. Hip charts, too, made everything better.

Earlier in the day, they had loaded all the gear they'd need, and around two pm, departed from their small college town. It took three hours to arrive at a slightly bigger, but still small dot on the map. The trip was uneventful, for the most part. However, a buzz went through those in Jooheon's car as they pulled up to their destination. The platinum blond couldn't help but gaze in brief awe. Everyone was expecting this to be like any other indoor gig, but now it was clear they were wrong. The line of cars was heading straight for a tent. It wasn't a big top, like a circus would have, but still a good-sized one, intended for events. Loud music emanated from within; people swarmed in, out, and around the fluttering canvas structure. The butterflies in Jooheon's belly picked up energy.

Their professor and director, Dr. Ahn, seemed to know who to talk to. It was clear that he'd done this before. All it took was a couple conversations. Strings got pulled, and the vans they had brought were able to go right to the back entrance, by the stage. That was nice, for when they'd have to set up. Jooheon checked his watch; it was currently fifteen after five, and their slot was at six, leaving them plenty of time. All he wanted to do was tickle the keys on his alto. There was still another group performing, though, so unfortunately, it would have to wait.

Dr. Ahn approached the huddle of talking college kids, where they were hovering by the edge of the tent. 'Kill a few minutes,' were his exact words. About half the band was gone in a second after that announcement.

That was why Jooheon was wandering around, "exploring" with his two best friends, Kihyun and Changkyun. They had insisted the saxophonist go with them; why, he didn't quite get. They had made it sound important, though, and so Jooheon had relented. Not that he wouldn't have been fine with it, anyway, but there were two things irking him. First of all, there were already more people here than what he had expected. He didn't want to be alone, and worried about losing Kihyun-hyung and Changkyunie in in the crowd. Second, the trumpet player and electric bassist (respectively) had recently become a couple. Of course, after that happened, they had become touchy and--y’know--more inclined to do things boyfriends do. Kiss, for example. When they acted affectionate, it made Jooheon sad. He had been feeling lonely lately with Changkyun so involved in the new relationship. To deal with the absence, Jooheon retreated into the college's practice rooms. It was only his natural reaction. He loved spending time on his alto saxophone, anyway. Fifteen extra minutes buried in sheet music and Jazz theory never hurt anyone.

Jooheon trailed behind the pair, trying his hardest not to look at anyone and yet avoid his best friends, too. They were already holding hands and sharing shy smiles. Kihyun leaned into Changkyun’s shoulder every once in a while. Then they’d talk a bit, only to go back to looking at the displays and menus of the different vendors and brewers.

For the most part, the place was what Jooheon had expected--a bunch of party people. They hung out in groups, and everyone had a glass of beer in their hand, or a bottle. Nothing much to look at. Yeah, occasionally, something would draw his eye. Like, once, he spotted Hoseok, their drummer, whom everyone called Wonho. The handsome older boy was holding his own mug and chatting it up with some other college-age guys. Jooheon also thought he saw Hyunwoo-hyung wandering through the crowd. He could have been wrong, though. The baritone saxophonist had seemed determined to hang out by the stage earlier.

Soon his disinterested gaze was firmly fixed on the ground, which was why he ran into anyone in the first place. All at once, there was something in his path. Jooheon had to throw his weight backwards to avoid a collision. The object was moving, too, however, and was in all actuality, quite clumsy. That was what made the saxophonist realize that it was not something, but someone. He watched in horror as a warm body almost collapsed on top of him, but somehow managed to keep upright. Perhaps it was the last-minute hand on Jooheon's shoulder.

Jooheon glanced up and opened his mouth to apologize, but the tall, brown-haired man beat him to it. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. Did I get anything on you?” He seemed shocked, but there was a slight, shy smile on his face. It was only then that the saxophonist saw the bottle of beer and a paper boat of nachos in his hands. A matching wet stain and dots of yellow dotted the front of his tee shirt. Apparently, that was a result of the collision.

Glancing down, Jooheon checked his concert black out, and found he had been lucky. Nothing foreign or food related was visible there. "No, no, I don’t think so."

"Good." For the first time, the two boys locked gazes. The younger couldn’t help but gasp and blink. In a brief moment, he found that it took everything he had not to stare into the other’s big, brown eyes. Jooheon's brain was telling him that this guy was very handsome; almost sinfully so, it seemed. First of all, he was tall. Medium-long, perfectly-styled black hair fell in a sweep across his forehead. The stonewashed, ripped-knee jeans he wore with a loose tee accented his lean, slim body type. The dude could be a model for tuxedo or designer catalogs. Majorly overpriced clothing gurus would go for a face and body like his.

Guilt had plagued Jooheon before, but now it was even worse. He scrambled for an answer, inadvertently starting a conversation in an attempt to fight the rising blush in his cheeks. “Aish, I’m sorry, too, now you’re going to smell like beer for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t care about that…I mean my clothes are the least of my worries, and I would never mind running into a cutie like you." Wait--what? Jooheon turned redder, and finally managed to break eye contact. “Anyways, I’m Chae Hyungwon. I’m mortified I almost got nacho cheese on your nice clothes--I’d hate to ruin them. Not sure if I’d be wearing something like that to a beer fest, but to each man his own, I suppose.”

The platinum blond would have laughed if he wasn’t so stunned at the stranger's flirty comment. It had taken a moment, but once it had hit, Jooheon could have melted into the ground. So, he tried to concentrate on the second half of what Hyungwon said. “I didn’t just choose to wear this. My Jazz combo is performing pretty soon.”

“Oh! That makes sense. Sorry again, I spoke too quickly.”

“It’s ok. You didn’t know. I’m Jooheon. Lee Jooheon.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Jooheon.” Somehow, the saxophonist loved his own name rolling off the tall boy’s tongue. His baritone voice was warm and lush, and the way it made his perfect, plump lips tip and tuck was irresistible. Jooheon couldn’t help but stare again. A bright, white smile erupted on Hyungwon’s face, and he tossed a chip covered in nacho cheese into his mouth. “What do you play in the combo, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Alto sax.” Honestly, Jooheon could talk about his most prized possession all day. He had a lot to say about the beautiful golden instrument, but decided to spare Hyungwon all the details. “That’s the smaller one.”

“I know. I played piano in my college Jazz band. I’m graduated now, but I miss it, I have to say.”

“So wait--how old are you?” Jooheon couldn’t help but think that the guy was his age, or slightly younger. So to hear he had a degree was surprising.

“Twenty-three. I’m only half a year out from graduation, but I got an early jump too.”

That made sense. “Alright. I just turned twenty-three, like last week, and I’m a semester and a half away from walking so…”

“Oh?” Hyungwon’s eyebrows perked as he stuck another chip in and chewed thoughtfully. “Gosh, I honestly thought you were younger…at least two years younger than that.”

“Huh. Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you.” Jooheon switched his focus so he wouldn’t have to be constantly looking into the boy’s eyes or to his lips. Unfortunately, he only found that he was in awe at those long, slender, beautiful fingers, too.

Hyungwon noticed, of course, and mistook the intention. “Eyeing my nachos, huh?”

“No, I’m okay--“

“You sure? I’ll gladly get you some. It’s only a few bucks. Besides, adorable, dimpled saxophonists need to be well-fed.”

The way the tall boy crunched his eyebrows together was irresistible. Plus, he was flirting again. Jooheon didn’t want to give in, but Hyungwon was making it hard not to. He sighed. “Alright, alright. But I have some cash on me, you don’t need to--“

Hyungwon brushed that away with a hand. “Nonsense. I’d be glad. I was the one who ran into you after all, I shouldn’t have tried to shoot the gap between you and those boys in front of you.”

“Well, I was staring at the ground. So I guess that makes us even?”

Hyungwon laughed, a beautiful, melodic sound that somehow made Jooheon a little dizzy. “Alright, come on.” Together, they made their way back over to the stand the nachos had come from. There was a line, but it went quickly, and Hyungwon ordered and paid for more food. “Hey, you want some beer, too?” The older boy asked as a side thought.

“No thanks. Not right now.” Jooheon shook his head. “Thanks for offering though.”

“You’re welcome. Anytime.”

Conversation between them was lively and comfortable as they found a table near the stage and ate. Soon, they were flying through topics. Seemingly everything came up, from their friends, to their pets and jobs. Jooheon worked desk at one of the hotels in his college town, which could be fun and not fun. Hyungwon listened with interest, chuckling at the stories. When it went back to him, though, his demeanor changed. He fiddled with his hands and admitted he was currently unemployed. It wasn't like he was doing nothing, though. Job-hunting was a big priority for him. He'd applied to several different businesses over the last few weeks. Hopefully, it was only a matter of time now before he got his first real job.

Jooheon grinned, and gushed that he was proud; anyone would be, considering how great of a guy Hyungwon was. Hell, Jooheon knew, even though they had only met minutes before. The older boy took the compliment, though he seemed shy and embarrassed. “Well, we’ll have to see.”

As time passed, their nacho boats became emptier and emptier. Jooheon found himself living for Hyungwon’s laugh; he could listen to it all day. The face he made along with it was great too. In a way it was hysterical and so meme-worthy, but endearing. He threw his head back, first of all, arms crossed over his shaking stomach. His smile took over his entire visage, and every pearly white tooth in his mouth was visible. Then, there was that his cheeks pushed up into his eyes.

Suddenly, in the middle of a funny story about his days in the Jazz band, Hyungwon shifted slightly. A question popped from his mouth, out of the blue: “Jooheon, do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?”

Taken off-guard, and still in the dark about why it had come up, Jooheon managed to stutter, “No. I haven’t dated since high school. Unless you mean my sax. In that case, I’m married.” Licking his lips to get rid of a sudden dryness, Jooheon shot the query back. “You?”

“Oh, no, me neither.” Hyungwon chuckled, probably at the joke, but then his tone dropped. “My boyfriend broke up with me last week.”

“I’m sorry, Hyungwon-ah.” For some reason, the younger already felt comfortable with the honorific. He felt like he knew the tall boy well already, from the few minutes since they had literally run into each other. “I know how that is. I’ve had ex-boyfriends break my heart, too.”

At 'ex-boyfriends', a spark of hope ignited in Hyungwon’s eyes. The older lit up palpably, though he tried to conceal it. Shakily, he began, “Ah--I’m sorry if this is too forward, but…could I…hold your hand? I don’t know why, I just…want to.”

Jooheon hesitated only a second, if that. “Sure.”

Hyungwon reached out across the table, and Jooheon met him halfway. Their fingers laced together, long, dark digits against shorter, chubbier, slightly lighter ones. Hyungwon’s hand was so, so warm, and the saxophonist decided he liked it. The feeling filled him with butterflies. When he glanced back up, he couldn't help but blush again as he discovered the other staring at him fondly.

Right around that time, though, the act on stage said their goodnights and made their way off, pulling their gear with them. Simultaneously, the other members of Jooheon's combo rose. Almost like ants, they started to unload the waiting cars, opting to keep everything out on the floor for now, untouched until setup. Jooheon knew he had to go, and squeezed the tall boy’s hand gently. “It's about time for me to perform. You’re staying to watch the set, right?”

“Of course. I have to, since you’ve talked yourself up like you have.” Hyungwon laughed, and the sparkle in his eyes was bright and clear. “Go make some noise, Jooheon-ah.”

“I will.” The saxophonist shot him one last, wide smile before he was off to where the others were. He came up just in time to have his instrument handed to him, and catch several others coming out, too.

Jooheon turned around again to the sight of Lee Minhyuk’s smirk, and instantly knew he was in trouble. “I am shocked and astounded,” the tenor saxophonist proclaimed, as someone passed him his horn. “Lee Jooheon, the king of salty, single men, holding hands with a boy.”

Coolly, the blond tried to think of a good comeback to his sharp-tongued friend. Hardly an easy task. “You have anything against my holding hands with a boy?” Not ideal, but it would have to do.

“No, but I didn't think I'd live to see the day you finally showed interest in someone.”

“Lee Minhyuk, my romantic and sexual drives are perfectly fine. Besides, he’s nice, and cute. Why wouldn’t I want to show interest in him?”

“You got me there. Seriously though, he is pretty hot.” Both their gazes wandered over to the table where Hyungwon was sitting, tapping away on his phone and jiggling his leg to an imaginary beat. The older guy whistled. “Damn, look at those lips. Get his number, yeah?”

“Hyung--"

“If he doesn’t work out for you, send him my way.” Minhyuk wiggled his eyebrows, and Jooheon couldn’t help but groan.

Soon everything was set up on the stage platform. The wind players popped open their cases and got ready to go. Music was on stands, everyone was in line; all they needed now was the title of their first chart. Also, a cue from Dr. Ahn would be nice. Both of those were promptly given, and the band roared to life.

The energy they were putting out instantly won over the crowd. People whooped and cheered, clapping their hands. Dr. Ahn had decided to play Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive, which was definitely a favorite. Maybe Jooheon had a slight bias, but in his humble opinion, the band did an exceptional rendition. (Never mind that he was at the helm of the instrumental solo part.) Everything seemed especially tight tonight, especially in the horns.

After their fifth tune, Piece of My Heart by Janis Joplin, Hyunwoo leaned over to Jooheon, psst-ing at him. He had to get around Kim Yugyeom, their kid trombone player, so this was probably important.

“Yeah?” Jooheon took a step back and ducked closer so he could hear.

“You have an admirer.” A smirk grew on the bari saxophonist’s face. “Two o’clock.”

Of course, that was Hyungwon. Jooheon couldn't help but sneak a peek. The tall boy was grinning and waiting with baited breath for what the next tune would be. “Yah, I know.” He has an admirer, too.

From the moment Hyungwon had met Jooheon, he had known the younger was someone special. Something in the back of the tall boy's brain told him that this was a once in a lifetime thing. Don't let the opportunity pass by. That notion had only intensified as they had sat and eaten together. Even now, it was growing, building in his chest. How could someone look so beautiful, standing on stage with a saxophone in hand? Maybe it was how the white-haired boy was so animated in playing. Hyungwon's heart fluttered wildly when Jooheon glanced up to cheer on the band or make an approving noise at a particularly nice solo lick.

He didn't realize how bad it was, though, until once, when the two of them made eye contact. Hyungwon swore his heart almost stopped beating altogether. Jooheon held the older boy's gaze unwaveringly for a few moments before breaking into a huge, blinding grin. Then he dipped his head to meet his mouthpiece again.

The feeling came back, spreading through him like wildfire. It was the exact same as earlier, when Hyungwon had realized the depth of Jooheon's eyes. The glint in them was playful, but slowly changed until it took on a challenging, eager tint. Instantly, the older had forgotten what he was going to say about his goofy college friends. One question burned on his lips.

"Jooheon, do you have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend?"

He hadn't known what answer to expect. It seemed like a futile hope to want to hear no. How could such an attractive young man not be in a relationship? But something was aligning in the cosmos tonight. Incredulity crept through Hyungwon when Jooheon admitted to not having dated since high school.

Of course, right afterwards came the reciprocated question, which made Hyungwon grimace. The memory of how his stupid ex had left him just four days before was still an open wound. Knowing the other’s answer, though, dulled the sting. Perhaps the messy breakup was in the stars. Hyungwon didn't want to imagine having to hold back in this moment with Jooheon. Immediately, those thoughts got shoved aside, though, with the younger's next words.

I've had ex-boyfriends break my heart, too.

Hearing from his lips that he had dated men in the past gave Hyungwon so much courage. The tall boy's eagerness bubbled up out of him. He stared at Jooheon's pretty hand for a brief minute before asking if he could hold it. Words couldn't describe how happy he had been when the Jooheon had agreed. Their fingers and palms had fit together so, so perfectly. Now, in the same way, Hyungwon was staring at the beautiful pout wrapped around the black mouthpiece of the saxophone. How long could he resist before he would finally relent to his heart and ask to kiss it? Would Jooheon agree to that as well, and would the sparks fly, as they did before?

Concentrating on the music wasn't hard when Jooheon was the one leaning into the mic. His perfect fingers skimmed expertly over the golden keys of his instrument. His jaw, too, was working hard, pushing and relaxing on the reed to lend that perfect Jazz nuance. Every note that fell from the horn was heaven, a powerful wave of sound that threatened to tip Hyungwon's chair backwards. Perhaps it was only his fascination with the other, but he'd revel in it as much as he could.

It hurt that this might be the first and last time he'd get to see the handsome, dimpled young man. A sudden wave of determination flooded him to not let it be. If only he could once again work up the courage...

The whole thing was over faster than what Jooheon would have liked, and yet he was also glad. He couldn’t stop thinking about Hyungwon, and it got worse when he’d look at the tall boy. There were also extra-loud cheers after Jooheon’s solos, and the saxophonist knew almost immediately who was behind them. He still felt so warm, like the older’s hand was hot in his own. Jooheon didn’t know how he managed to keep it all together, considering his heart rate was off the charts.

The moment final words and thanks were complete, everyone was grabbing something of theirs and pulling it offstage. Jooheon needed to help this time, so he couldn’t immediately go back to Hyungwon. He signaled this to the older, who nodded in understanding and held up his thumb. There was that wide smile again, and the other mouthed from afar, Okay. I'll be here when you’re done.

Once everything was back in the vans, Dr. Ahn surprised everyone again. He handed each person a ten dollar bill and declared, ‘go eat before we have to leave’. Already having nachos sitting comfortably in his belly, Jooheon pocketed the money. He didn’t need anything else; well, except for Hyungwon. The first moment he could, he went back to the table, taking his seat and smiling at the taller boy.

In response, he got a grin right back and an outstretched hand. Jooheon didn’t think twice in taking it, and hummed a bit as some lost warmth crept back into his bones again. "You were wonderful up there," Hyungwon said. It wouldn't be obvious to just anyone, but his lips were trembling slightly. The boy's eyes seemed hooded and blinked more rapidly than normal, too. Jooheon figured it was because he was trying to hold back the flow of compliments wanting to pour out. It scared the saxophonist that he knew his new friend so well already. Yet, there was something comforting about it, too.

The next act was on in no time, and they had pre-recorded music blasting through the speakers. If things weren't loud before, they were now. Though Jooheon and Hyungwon didn't speak, it was obvious they were both uncomfortable. The latter was the first to do something about it. He leaned across to pretty much yell-ask in Jooheon’s ear if he wanted to go outside. Nodding, the younger picked himself up and tugged on his new friend's arm. Their hands didn’t come unclasped even the slightest bit. Together, they ducked through a flap in the tent and wandered out into the coolness of the night. It had fallen while Jooheon's band was performing, sun slinking lower on the horizon, stealing away like a thief.

It took some time, but they managed to find a nice spot to themselves. So, now, other than the noise going on behind them from the crowd of rowdies, things were peaceful and quiet. The two simply enjoyed it for a long moment before Hyungwon's gentle baritone started up. “Hey, Jooheon, I—I’m really glad I ran into you. Even if it meant getting nacho cheese on myself.”

“I’m glad, too,” the younger chuckled. “Even if I still feel bad that you got nacho cheese on yourself.”

Hyungwon’s eyes filled with something indescribable, and his gaze dropped, weighted, to the ground. He seemed to be thinking something over, a heavy matter perhaps. The younger just waited for him to say something. He spent a long moment in thought, but eventually, his entire body relaxed. Jooheon smirked, thinking about what might be going on in that handsome head. Hyungwon was back to the eager young man who had first asked to hold hands. His last shreds of caution were evidently abandoned to the wind. “Come home with me tonight,” he blurted, hopeful; immediately, his cheeks began to heat up.

Jooheon paused. Not like he didn’t want to accept on the spot, but the caution part of his brain kicked in automatically. Shit, they were still practically strangers, having known each other for barely over an hour. What if Hyungwon was a serial killer, planned on taking advantage of him, or had some strange kink? Jooheon doubted any of those, greatly, though. More concerning was the fact that he was three hours away from a warm bed. “I’m sorry, Hyungwon-ah, I can’t--We’re headed back to the college right after this--“

“I don’t mind driving you as far as you need,” The tall boy piped up. “Stay overnight at my apartment, and I’ll get you there, tomorrow, or the next day--whenever you want." Despite his hope, he quickly tacked onto the end, "But if you really don’t want to, I’m not going to pressure you into it.”

“I—I have to be back in the morning. I work at one pm.” Jooheon averted his eyes, on the edge of giving in. Though his mental alarms were still going off, the siren was fading. There was no way this gentle young man would hurt him or use force.

“Please, I don’t mind.” Hyungwon was almost begging at this point. His eyes were full of hope. “I want to be with you. I haven’t met anyone who even compares to you in a long time--maybe ever. If you never want to think about me again after this, I’ll be fine with that. All I ask is that you give me a chance.”

Jooheon squeezed Hyungwon’s hand a little tighter. “Alright.”

“You’re--what?” Kihyun and Changkyun blurted in tandem when Jooheon told them he wasn’t leaving with the band.

“I’m going with Hyungwon over there.” The saxophonist motioned to where his new friend was standing, waiting for Jooheon to come back. “I’ll crash at his place. He’s already promised to drive me back for my shift at the hotel tomorrow.”

“Lee Jooheon!” Kihyun, always the motherly friend, exclaimed, exasperated. “Are you sure that’s such a good idea? You only met him tonight--he could be dangerous, what if he murders you--“

“My gut tells me that he’s not, and it’ll be fine,” Jooheon replied, calmly. “Hyungwon-ah is a good guy, and usually my instincts are dead on--right, Kkungie?”

“They are.” Changkyun sighed and glanced over at Kihyun, who was about to open his mouth to protest again. The older boy shut up. “Is your phone charged?”

“Well--It’s almost dead, but I have my charger and cord in my bag.”

Kyun relaxed and nodded at the reaffirmation. “Alright. If you are ever unsure, please, please get yourself away as fast as you can. Call us, or the police--someone will come get you.”

No wonder the bassist was his best friend. Times like this always reminded Jooheon of that. “I will. Now I just have to go tell Dr. Ahn.”

Jooheon was admittedly nervous about getting official permission to go home with Hyungwon. He did his best to explain clearly and gently to the older, graying man. Something must have convinced him, because the doctor nodded. “Alright, I'll allow it if you’re sure, Jooheon.”

“I am. I trust him. Do you want me to call when I get home tomorrow?”

“No, that's not necessary. Just be safe, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

Minutes later, the saxophonist had his instrument and music in hand and was walking back over to the tall boy. “It’s all cleared,” he quipped brightly and smiled, reaching out his free hand to tangle in Hyungwon’s.

The smile that spread across the other's face was priceless.

A sense of newness still lingered between them. Perhaps that was the reason why Jooheon and Hyungwon had everything to talk about in the car. They thought they had gotten to know each other pretty well at the festival, but now it was clear they had only scratched the surface. Tidbits of information flowed back and forth, and one question always brought up another. Neither could stop smiling as they chatted amiably. Moment by moment, and word by word, fondness and affection was growing between them.

Hyungwon felt comfortable driving, since his first and only beer had been about an hour ago. Despite a burning need to look at the beautiful boy who was somehow, impossibly, sitting next to him, he made his eyes stay on the road. The few minutes it took to get from the festival to their destination flew by. Before long, they were pulling up to the small, cozy apartment Hyungwon called home.

He led the younger inside, flipping on the lights to reveal a place that was clearly a bachelor pad. It wasn’t trashed, but wrappers and things lay here and there. Hyungwon picked up what his eyes caught at first glance, and disappeared into the kitchen. In the meantime, Jooheon set his saxophone down by the door and kicked off his shoes. The walls were bare (not surprising in the least, honestly), but there wasn’t too much empty floor space. A faux leather sofa and a couple armchairs that matched it took up a good chunk of room. In front of those was an entertainment center and widescreen TV. Various game consoles sat on the shelves. Nearby was a plastic tote filled with games, and a cabinet full of movies.

Jooheon, impressed, plopped down on the couch and glanced curiously around, trying to memorize every corner of the place. He wouldn’t have taken Hyungwon as someone who liked that sort of thing, but now the image of him as a gamer fit. Doubtless, he had friends who came over frequently to chill. Or perhaps the tall boy immersed himself in fantasy worlds when life got too stressful.

In no time, Hyungwon’s distinctive footsteps came back into earshot. He turned at the end of the couch, smiling widely at his guest. “So, how is everything?”

“It’s very homey in here. I like it. All the games are pretty sweet, too.”

“Thanks. And ah, yeah, they’re good time killers, for when you’re waiting for a call from a potential employer.” Jooheon puckered his lips in thought and nodded. It’s probably what he’d be doing, as well, if he was in Hyungwon’s situation. The taller followed up with, “You like playing, too?”

“Yeah, but I don’t get a chance to very often.” That was mostly reserved for when Jooheon went home. He didn’t have a TV in his dorm room, and being a music major kept him very, very busy anyway.

“If you want to try something out, go for it. I’ve got a lot of things, Call of Duty, Grand Theft Auto, Dragon Age, Gears of War, Super Smash Brothers, some of the Final Fantasies, Danganronpa, even, if you want.”

The saxophonist lit up. “I’ve got a better idea. Do you have Mario Kart?”

“Huh? Of course! No game collection would be complete without at least one of the Mario Karts.” Hyungwon broke out into a full-bellied laugh and went over to the tote, rummaging around until he found what he was looking for. He waved the game in the air. “This okay?”

“Perfect.” Jooheon nodded, and dropping down onto the carpeted floor, crawled forward to grab two controllers. “Play a few rounds with me, pleeease?”

The younger boy didn’t even have to beg. Hyungwon was all in. “Bring it on. Just warning you, I’m super good.”

“Ah, we’re going to have to see about that.”

The taller man loaded the disc in, and turned to settle down on the couch. Jooheon, however, seemed to have different ideas. He pouted and patted the floor next to him. Giving a grin, Hyungwon obeyed, and their knees touched. At the sudden warmth (Hyungwon, too, had noticed the temperature difference between them), Jooheon shivered.

“Yah, I can’t bear to see you with goosebumps,” Hyungwon cooed, and reached behind him to pull a blanket from the sofa. Slowly, cautiously, he edged closer to the saxophonist and draped it over them both. As Jooheon hummed in contentment, the older chanced a peek, and his breath hitched. There was a soft appeal to Jooheon’s features, and the fuzzy blanket made him look so cute, happy, and loveable. Almost as if he knew he was being admired, his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned against Hyungwon’s shoulder. With the saxophonist close like this, it was harder to breathe, and Hyungwon felt his heart beat fast, too.

The main game screen kicked up, though, and the momentary feeling of love dissipated. Excitement took over, and soon enough the two of them could have been five years old again. Laughing and yelling, they play-fought, trying to sabotage each other as they raced. Hyungwon won first, Jooheon won second, and thus they traded victory and defeat for a good two hours.

Eventually, their competitive natures settled down as they tired themselves out. A few easy races passed in relative peace. That was, until one particularly close round. They battled and clashed, bumpers colliding on the little animated carts. It seemed futile on Hyungwon's part, though, as Jooheon managed to gain and keep the upper hand. An idea started to form in the taller's head. Gradually, so the saxophonist wouldn't suspect anything, he began to hang back. Suddenly, Hyungwon was happy letting Jooheonie believe he was about to win. That wasn't quite the case, though, and there was a hidden ace up his sleeve. At the final turn, finish line in sight, he made his move. Gaze quickly flicking to the other boy, the taller lifted his elbow and nudged Jooheon hard in the ribs.

“Oww!--Fucking--!”

That split second lapse of concentration was all Hyungwon needed to zoom past and across the finish line first. He couldn’t help but let a sly smile slide onto his face. Once Jooheon had finished rubbing his side, he was silent for a moment. Then, slowly, realization dawned. The offending party automatically leaned as far away as he could, hoping to avoid wrath. Indeed, it seemed that his instincts were dead on, as Hell hath no fury like Lee Jooheon scorned at Mario Kart.

"H--Hyungwon, you cheater! That really hurt, too!" The blond's screech had Hyungwon howling with laughter. It was just so uncharacteristic, and the sudden flip in mood would be enough to hit anyone’s funny bone. Jooheon chased the tall boy partway across the carpet; somehow, the other managed to stay out of reach. In moments their energy ran out, though, and it was over. It was late, nearing the end of a long day, after all. Both guys were heaving for air, chests rising and falling in time. No hard feelings remained, either. Wide smiles spread on their faces; the inevitable chuckle slipped from Jooheon's throat.

Suddenly, they made eye contact, and something clicked.

Hyungwon had managed to forget for a while about his feelings of lust, but now they returned in full force. He had wanted to taste Jooheon all night, and he wasn’t going to get a better moment to do it than here, now. The saxophonist’s cheeks had a red flush, and his eyes were bright and sparkling. There was a fondness in those dark irises, too. Was it possible for anyone to look more enticing? Probably not. Cautiously, he scooted back over and reached out a hand, cupping the beautiful boy’s cheek in his palm. The other blinked, eyes widening, but he didn’t pull away. Hyungwon drug a thumb across those plump lips and pulled closer. “I--is it okay if I--?” he asked, voice weak, only a whisper. The sentence wouldn't finish, though kiss you was definitely in his vocabulary. Hyungwon was too far gone, stolen, at his wit's end; however one wanted to put it. Jooheon was just so handsome and soft and adorable.

The younger seemed to understand the implied question, thankfully. He searched Hyungwon’s eyes for a long moment, before nodding slowly.

Leaning down slightly, Chae Hyungwon met Lee Jooheon’s lips with his own. They were so soft, and as heavenly as he had imagined. If the saxophonist was an ocean, he'd gladly drown. Almost like he would, his arms snaked around Jooheon’s torso, holding onto him for dear life. Something warm and wet touched his mouth; automatically, lips parted to let in the other’s tongue. His own returned the greeting with shy caresses. Everything was so warm and peaceful and passionate. Hyungwon hoped that the younger was like him, wishing it’d never end. Almost before he realized what he was doing, Hyungwon’s hand was at the hem of Jooheon’s dress shirt. Slipping underneath, it found the soft, bare skin just above his ass, and the ridge of his spine.

At the touch, Jooheon gasped and broke their kiss, his grip tightening on Hyungwon’s thigh. Startled by what he thought was a rejection, the tall boy’s eyes widened, and briefly, panic mode took over. Truly, he hadn't meant to go that far, at least yet. He had been too lost in the moment, though, and in the feeling of holding the younger. No doubt, he'd broken whatever spell they had between them, if there even was one in the first place. “Oh--I’m sorry, Jooheonie.” He murmured and flushed red. Hyungwon turned away toward the TV screen, where the game was waiting, asking if they were still there.

Then, a hand cupped his jaw, applying gentle pressure and pulling him back. All at once, lips crashed into his again. It was Jooheon now who wanted the affection, kissing the tall boy like there was no tomorrow. His eyebrows knit together, and he was breathing deeply but unsteadily. Hyungwon could have melted into the floor.

They could have stayed there forever that time, but eventually they broke for air. Panting, they eyed each other hungrily. When the feeling of Jooheon’s lips and tongue on his own was a ghost, Hyungwon finally realized that the hand that wasn’t lingering on his cheek was on his hip. The saxophonist's thumb rubbed slow circles on the waistband of his jeans.

“Look, Hyungwon…” Jooheon sighed. “I like when you touch me. You don’t have to apologize. Ah...actually…” the younger narrowed his eyes seductively and bit his lip. Smaller hands slid into Hyungwon’s. “I wouldn't mind if you did it again.”

Hyungwon was a goner. He dived in for another kiss, gripping the blond’s waist harder this time. In moments, Jooheon was climbing into his lap, straddling him, pushing his tongue deeper. A soft whine slipped out as Hyungwon reached up to undo the top button of his concert black. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m just making this easier,” the tall boy whispered through their liplock, and pulled Jooheon’s shirt up and over his head. Everywhere Hyungwon's slender hands wandered, a trail of gooseflesh seemed to follow. A burning desire consumed him to explore every inch of that sexy, well-knit body.

Soon, the older dared to go lower; his hands settled open on Jooheon's waist and teased at his belt buckle. In response, the saxophonist's breathing picked up. How was it that he was already so sensitive and beautiful? What had Hyungwon done in past lives to have him at his fingertips? His touch wandered back up to play with a perky nipple. Jooheon gasped at this, and his teeth sank into Hyungwon's lower lip. The pain made him flinch, but unexpectedly, his cock stirred, too. Now they were both voicing exactly how the other made them feel. If someone heard through the walls, neither could care less.

A shaky, more uncertain, desperate, even, pair of hands slipped up the hem of the older boy's tee. He loved it, reveling in the fact that Jooheon wanted him this much. "W--Wonnie, I wanna--touch, too." Hyungwon couldn't resist a plea like that and consented, even helping to get the cotton off. Once they threw the shirt to the wayside, Jooheon's arms were back around Hyungwon's middle.

When they next broke, the fog of lust clouded their eyes. By now, both their mouths were swollen and red, too. Jooheon slowly scanned Hyungwon's face, and frowned, tenderly swiping a finger across his injured bottom lip. "I got you pretty good..."

"Yeah, you did. But I'd let you do it all the time if you kissed me afterwards." The salty taste of blood trickled onto Hyungwon's tongue from the wounds inside his mouth. That didn't matter now, though. He found himself wanting, needing Jooheon more and more as the seconds passed.

Doubtless, the platinum blond must have been thinking the same thing. All at once, there was a palm pressing against Hyungwon's growing bulge, stroking it up and down. The friction was delicious, and the tall boy threw his head back, mouth opening in euphoria. Lips softly suckled spots onto his neck. He couldn't do anything but pull Jooheon closer. The younger instinctively pushed himself down farther onto Hyungwon, his erection obvious through his dress slacks.

Then, fingers skimmed the plane of Hyungwon's abs. Down, down they wandered, clearing the waistbands of his jeans and underwear. Shivers of pleasure coursed through him as they proceeded to wrap around his hardening length. Jooheon's slow tugs were so good. What was better, though, was the sound of the younger's heaving pants. Clearly, his own actions were affecting him, too.

"Wait," Hyungwon barely managed to murmur, keeping his head on for a last minute.

"What is it, Wonnie?"

"Bed--would be more comfy."

Jooheon seemed to agree, and nodded. He glanced behind him and backed up. The taller boy missed him immediately, and not just because he no longer had a hand on his needy cock. Shakily, he got up from the floor and steadied himself. Lips parted, he blinked and spent a moment admiring the beautiful white haired boy.

Something burned in the younger's eyes, and it excited Hyungwon to no end. Jooheon approached, drawing close again to plant a chaste kiss on the taller boy's lips and hook an arm underneath his ass. “Jump.” The command floated softly out of his mouth, irresistible, and Hyungwon obeyed. For a moment the older thought he'd hit the floor, but didn’t. Jooheon managed to catch Hyungwon's weight and stabilize himself. With a determined effort, he headed in the direction of the back hallway.

“Second door on the left,” Hyungwon muttered, half-gone already. He laved his tongue down the side of Jooheon’s neck, under his ear, and this made them both shiver. The tall boy was getting painfully hard at this point. His thoughts drifted to everything he wanted to do to the sexy piece of man carrying him. Of course, that did not help his problem at all.

All Jooheon had to do was lean into the door, and it swung open. The tiny room that greeted them, with a queen-size bed, white sheets, and a checkered comforter, was cozy home, sweet home. Carefully, the blond set them down on the edge of the mattress. Hyungwon crawled backwards, pulling Jooheon along by the neck. Their kiss never broke as the latter crawled up onto the open, waiting lap again. Hyungwon thought he was about to go crazy, with their bulges rubbing together. Jooheon even had the audacity to start grinding into him.

Eventually, they parted, a trail of saliva stretching between them. Jooheon smiled, and wordlessly ducked down for Hyungwon's collarbone. At the same time, he set a hand on the older's chest and pushed him down flat on the bed. His pretty lips left a blooming red trail on the skin as he kissed down the long, lean body of the tall boy. When he was at Hyungwon’s navel, he grinned blindingly and lapped at it, rimming the hole like it was another, farther down.

“F--Fuck, Jooheonie,” Hyungwon whined impatiently. He craved something, anything, around his aching cock. "Haven't you teased me enough already?”

“Wow, hyung, so needy.” Somehow, the low chuckle that followed filled Hyungwon with fire. Jooheon turned them both more toward the center of the bed. The older reached behind him to grab a pillow for his head and neck. He swore he had never heard a more satisfying sound than the pop of his jeans button. The saxophonist pulled them clean off, along with Hyungwon's boxers, and the cloth slid off the end of the mattress, neglected. Cool air met hot flesh as the tall boy's hard length flopped against his belly. That sensation alone made him moan something fierce.

Jooheon stopped for a moment to admire the sight. Pink tongue darted out to lick his lips; almost eagerly, he bent over to plant kisses on Hyungwon’s dick. His rewards were deep moans and precome. “Look at you, Wonnie...so beautiful like this…would you like my mouth?”

Though the words were quiet, Hyungwon didn't lose a single one. He ran a hand through his hair and nodded desperately. The blond smiled, picking him up in his palm and giving the head a kitten lick. The tip of his tongue scooped some of the slick, clear precome off. Jooheon hummed in surprised contentment at his first salty taste of Hyungwon. Then he glanced up and locked gazes with the older. Somehow, he never broke eye contact as he wrapped his lips around the tip and slowly began to bob his head. With every pass, Jooheon took in more of the long length.

"F--fuck, Jooheon." Indescribable feelings rushed through Hyungwon, overwhelming him with pleasure. Every ounce of willpower that wasn't lost to the sinful wet, velvety feeling was struggling to keep his hips from bucking. His ex never paid attention to him like this, preferring to let Hyungwon do the dirty work. Now, the tall boy knew why. Jooheon's lips and tongue and throat all in combination had him ascending to a higher level of heaven. It was so wet and warm and better than anything else he had ever experienced. If his own mouth was half as good as this…

Jooheon’s ass wiggled in the air, and he gave a low whine. Instantly, the older boy understood. The saxophonist was searching for friction from his own thighs, but having little success. Guilt swept through Hyungwon. All of a sudden, the idea of getting sucked off wasn't appealing anymore. "Baby...come back up here, won't you?"

Hyungwon got a chance to taste himself when their lips crashed together again. It was a good flavor, and that it mixed well with Jooheon's sweet mouth somehow made it even better. They laid together for a while, making out. Hyungwon's bony hip provided some relief for the younger, but he clearly needed more.

“Jooheon-ah…let me take care of you.” Hyungwon rolled over on top of the blond, and tugged at his slacks. “Off.” The other didn’t hesitate to obey, fingers fumbling to undo his belt. While he worked on that, Hyungwon reached over and opened the drawer of his nightstand. Some lube and a box of condoms were inside, and he grabbed that and a silver foil packet. Then he turned his attention back to the sexy boy whose legs he was between. Jooheon was struggling to get the fabric off from his ankles, and so Hyungwon helped. Now all there was between them were Jooheon’s briefs, and Hyungwon’s breath hitched in his throat. A pink tinged the beautiful white-haired man’s cheeks, and his eyes batted in anticipation. The wet spot in the cotton fabric, where his tip was, grew ever so slightly bigger by the moment.

At the same time, their hands reached down for the last remaining waistband. Fingers tangled together, and in it; Jooheon’s skin was hot and smooth as they dragged it down. The younger went as far as his arm would reach before letting Hyungwon do the rest.

“So perfect,” Hyungwon murmured in awe, taking hold of Jooheon’s erection for the first time. Long, low moans slipped the younger’s mouth as he gave it a few good tugs. Hyungwon had never seen such a pretty cock, red and flushed and perfectly proportioned. Desire overtook him to see it twitch and release as he was balls-deep inside it’s owner’s ass.

Neither could breathe for a moment as the older boy popped open the lube and beaded some on his fingers. He made sure they were good and coated before rubbing around that pretty hole. Then he stuck a finger inside. “A--Ah,” Jooheon gasped, mouth falling open, eyes fluttering shut. When Hyungwon added a second digit, the blond squirmed, trying to fuck himself deeper. “So good, Wonnie.”

The taller didn’t say anything, just kept carefully prepping him. Soon, he felt comfortable enough to put in a third. When he crooked them within Jooheon's tight hole, he hit a nice spot. The younger’s back arched up off the bed, and he gasped loudly.

When Hyungwon pulled out, the saxophonist whimpered, impatient. “Hurry, Wonnie,” he begged, as the older boy tore open the condom, rolled it on himself, and rubbed on another coat of lube for good measure.

“And you said I was needy,” Hyungwon chuckled, pressing his cock to the waiting ring of muscle. Then he leaned forward, and was inside, Jooheon’s walls squeezing him in all the right places. “Shit,” Hyungwon hissed. “Still so perfect.” A small smile grew on Jooheon’s face, and he reached up for a lingering kiss.

Hyungwon started to move, treating the younger to long, firm strokes. Occasionally, he'd change angles, searching for that perfect spot. It didn’t take long at all, and he knew when Jooheon’s legs wrapped around his waist. Hands scrabbled for a hold on his back, too, and the younger became decidedly more vocal.

That beautiful cock called to him, begging him to touch again. Or perhaps it was his brain and hand that gave the order. In any case, he wrapped his hand around it and pumped, even as he kept rocking into Jooheon. The saxophonist was too far gone even to kiss by this point. Hyung, hyung, was one of the only discernible things falling from his lips. One couldn't pin it down as the beginning of the older’s name; yet, it wasn't totally based off the honorific, either.

Soon, Jooheon tensed, and giving a cry, came all over his own cute belly. “Good, good boy,” Hyungwon murmured, continuing to pepper wet kisses on the younger’s jaw. He stroked him through the high (and then extra, so Jooheon trembled, overstimulated). Then Hyungwon, too, let himself go, filling the condom.

They held their position briefly, both feeling spent and close to sleep. Hyungwon brushed at Jooheon’s forehead, cleaning away locks of hair and receiving a fond, dimpled smile in return. However, there was still a mess to clean, and his strength would give out soon. So, Hyungwon pulled out and reached for a nearby box of Kleenex. Grabbing two, he proceeded to clean up Jooheon’s tummy. Afterwards, he removed the latex sleeve on his own length. It only took a few seconds to tie it and toss toward a nearby trash can, along with the soiled tissues.

He gladly let the younger boy snuggle into his chest as they finally settled down together. Hyungwon felt happy and peaceful, and he hoped Jooheon did, too. “Sleep well, sweet dreams,” Hyungwon said, yawning and knowing he wouldn’t last much longer.

“You too, Hyungwon-ah.” Jooheon’s murmur was barely audible, but the vibrations stirred the older’s heart. “Goodnight.”

Hyungwon woke to the mattress dipping, and a warm body sliding back under the comforter, next to him. A gentle “Hyungwon-ah,” called him back from the borders of dreamland. The scent of coffee wafted through the air. As his senses came awake, a familiar hand mussed his hair. “Wake up, Hyungwon-ah.” At long last, his eyes fluttered open to the sight of a handsome dimpled face beside him in bed, deep brown eyes sparkling and grin radiant as the sun. Jooheonie. So that hadn’t all been a dream. The older boy’s heart fluttered in his chest, just like it had the first time he saw who he had run into at the festival.

“Morning, sleepyhead.” Jooheon gave Hyungwon a peck on the forehead. “I’ve got coffee brewing, and I’m making rice to go with the Kimchi in the fridge, too.”

“Aww, come on, can’t it wait a few more minutes?” The slender boy caught Jooheon’s lips and pulled him closer, hooking an arm around his waist. “I like having you here in bed with me--”

“Not that I don’t want to say yes, hyung.” Jooheon fidgeted with his hands. “But I don’t want to lose my job, and I already let us sleep in.”

There was a moment of silence, before Hyungwon sighed. “Oh. Right.” Shaking his head, he let the white haired boy go, and turned, sitting up on his side of the bed. The thought of having to take Jooheon back to college hurt, though he knew it shouldn’t. This was a one night thing all along. They had a single evening to get to know each other. They could let the relationship go where it may, pull their hearts and minds around like ragdolls. Unfortunately, though, the next morning, it was back to their separate lives.

The tall boy hurried through his shower, and soon joined Jooheon out in the kitchen. The rice wasn’t quite ready, so he stood at the stove with the saxophonist. Hyungwon’s long noodle arms wrapped around Jooheon’s waist, and his chin rested on his shoulder. Every now and then, Jooheon would go to the wall outlet to check his phone. Sheepishly, he explained that though his friends had insisted on it, he had completely forgotten to charge the stinkin' thing the night before. “I would have called them if you turned out to be a creep,” Jooheon admitted, a red blush spreading across his cheeks. “But you’re not, of course.”

“I’m glad.” Hyungwon chuckled and patted the younger’s bare belly.

Not too long afterwards, they were at the table, settling down for a small meal. Despite the shift in Hyungwon’s mood, a steady conversation still flowed between them. How they liked their coffee, whose mother’s Kimchi was better. They both ate their fill, and got up and around. Hyungwon did dishes while the younger man gathered his things. They had to leave pretty soon if they wanted to make it back to Jooheon’s college town by one o’clock. And indeed, soon they were off, side by side in the front seat of Hyungwon’s car. The only stop they needed was to at the gas station, to fill up quick.

Most of the three-hour ride passed in relative silence. Hyungwon kept his eyes firmly on the road and wondered what the hell he should do. He really liked Jooheon, and it made his heart hurt that their time together was almost over. Every moment with the blond had been perfection, not just the sex, even though it was mind-blowing, too. Did Jooheon feel the same way? Hyungwon was afraid that asking the saxophonist to be his boyfriend would be too forward. What if Jooheon said no? It wasn’t necessarily the end of the world, but Hyungwon knew that then, it was more likely he’d lose interest soon after. That was the absolute last thing he wanted, for Jooheon to exit his life as abruptly as he had arrived.

“Hyungwon-ah?” Jooheon asked, gently, from the passenger’s side.

“Yes, Jooheonie?”

“The landscape around here is beautiful, huh?” The younger boy glanced out the window, resting his chin on his palm. As they were getting closer to Jooheon’s college town, the geography was getting hillier. Strips of pine and deciduous trees grew on the slopes. It was fall, so the former stayed fresh while the latter changed. The difference speckled the world in dark greens, bright yellows, and firey oranges.

Hyungwon took it all in, and nodded. “Yeah, yeah, it is.” A soft smile grew on his face, As he was momentarily distracted from his train of thought.

(If he would have glanced over, he would have seen a certain, beautiful boy not paying so much attention to the colors anymore. Instead, his lingering gaze rested on the other’s face.)

Finally, they pulled up to the front of the dorms. There was even thirty minutes to spare before Jooheon had to rush off to work. The younger boy stretched and gave a slight, happy smile over to Hyungwon. “Thank you for everything.” He had planned on leaving it just like that, so his heart wouldn’t be so disappointed. It was inevitable, he'd have to leave the older alone. However, it wasn’t to be so. As he went to kick the door open and slide out, Hyungwon grabbed him by the arm. “Wait.”

“Mmhm?” Jooheon turned and smiled.

“Ah--I um, I was hoping…” The older boy rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “If it wouldn’t be too much, could we...keep in touch?”

The saxophonist couldn’t help but let some joy slip out in his face and eyes. “Of course! Here, let me give you my number.” He grabbed Hyungwon’s phone from where it was sitting in the cupholder, and tapped into contacts, adding a new one. “There we go.”

Hyungwon seemed happy and relieved. “Awesome. Well--ah--” Suddenly, a soft palm caressed the younger’s cheek. Hyungwon leaned in and pulled him in for a kiss, one that Jooheon felt like melting into. “Take care, Jooheon.”

“Yeah, you too, Hyungwon.” They were both blushing like mad, and a spark of hope and excitement ignited within them. Soon, they’d be able to meet again, and they’d wait however long it took.

#Monsta X fanfiction #Monsta X scenario #Monsta X #Hyungheon #Jooheon #Hyungwon #Lee Jooheon #Chae Hyungwon #sorry for the tooth rotting fluff >////< but I am a sof

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