Heya, They/Them please :) I post whatever I want, really, but I write fanfic (asks are open) and draw. I do NSFW and sfw stuff, 18+ ^_^
I opened a Ko-Fi!! I do commissions now, DM me for prices!!
https://ko-fi.com/doodlebugged
áááą Aizawa Shouta/EraserHead
Hospital - GN!Reader, angst/fluff comfort, TW suicidal talk, and dying)
Strawberry Fanta - PT1 Introduction - (Rest On Ao3! Finished) - NSWF!F!Reader, TW yandere, stalking, violence (his name isn't spelled right I don't think? I'm so sorry)
Orange Fanta - PT1 - Story and context on Ao3 - NSFW Fem!Reader, TW Yandere, violence, sexual content, dubious consent/noncon
Silent Nights Exhibition - No reader, only zawa NSFW: public nudity, gremliness
My own mirror - PT1 - PT2 - no reader, 3rd pov TW: Suicidal thoughts, smoking weed, implied abuse, parent death, brief mentions of ED
With my whole heart- GN!Reader, angst/little comfort/none, TW: Yandere, violence, mentions of kidnapping, drugging, staking
Hating you as well - PT1 PT2 PT3 PT4 - F!Reader, little angst/mostly just the sillies - you just wanted to make friends, but one GUY keeps making that impossible for you, it was like he fucking hated you! And for what!!
âShoto Todorokiâš
Deja ya de llorar - GN!Reader, tiny angst/major comfort just cute all around
âŹâȘ Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada
You're Not Just Him - Pregnant!F!Reader - Fluff - You make your husband take a break from work and have a family day with you and the kids.
â° â° â° All Might/Toshinori Yagi
Important To You - Toshinori & Daughter!Reader - angst/no comfort TW! Neglect, parental abuse, depressive episode, mentioned eating problems, bullying, and mjc death - Being the daughter of such an important man was already hard, but after he gets deathly ill and the death of his best advisor? Forget about it!
àŒșïœĄÂ° .áThe Last Of Us 1&2á. ° ïœĄàŒ»
ÆžÌ”ÌĄÓÌ”ÌšÌÆ· Ellie Williams
Ellie Band Au Headcanons - no reader- nsfw & sfw parts
âïž Grand Theft Auto V âïž
Wedding Ring - F!Reader- Smut, cursing, manipulation - Michael De Santa has ghosted you for moths, and now he shows up to your house unexpectedly.
I Love You (I'm not waiting for anyone to save me, I could never love another) - F!Reader - Contains Smut but that's at the very end, manipulation, age gap relationship, inappropriate relationship, 18/29/20's (it's kept vague but y'know) reader and 40+ Michael. - Michael De Santa was a mysterious older man who seemed to be the answer, surely nothing could go wrong!
Freedom - F!Reader - Smut, science experiment reader, dubious consent - Finn Mertens x Reader
In which you had lived most of your life as a science experiment, trapped, hidden away as the last human on Ooo. What happens, after eighteen years of waiting underground, that statement may not be entirely true.
My Ao3!
Unfortunately, I do have unfinished works, and new ones in progress, but it's okay because I guilt myself enough for the both of us.
ËÊâĄÉË Requests are OPEN! ËÊâĄÉË
Won't do: Scat, water sports, puke, incest, inappropriate relationships without some form of punishment, ummmm the list will grow as needed
Will do: Pretty much everything else lmao
Post dividers by @cafekitsune
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Fandoms I can do!
MHA
Undertale
Across The SpiderVerse
Rick and Morty
Grand Theft Auto 5
The Last Of Us 1 & 2
Harry Potter
Adventure Time
The disastrous Life of Saiki K
Dexter
Mystic Messenger (Though, I will warn you I haven't completed the game 100%, so I'll go off what I know so far/what I've seen from the fandom.)
I also opened a Ko-fi! It's mostly for commissions, since I am going to be a very broke college kid with some free time. DM me for prices and negotiations (maybe) or if you have a free penny! Obviously, my do's and don'ts are up there. So...thanks!!
I've been playing a lot of Tomadachii life: Living the Dream, and you KNOW I made Toga and Ochako and the first thing that happened when they met was Toga got a crush on Ochako before they even met fully, so they were still strangers. What was funnier was that I gave Toga a 'romantic movie,' she dropped it and Ochaco picked it up. When I told Toga to confess her feelings Ochaco immediately said yes and they've been dating this whole time. They skipped the friends stage entirely. It's currently 12 am and its been literally over 3-4 years since I've actually drawn so this looks like shit because its been a million years so piss off. (I would appreciate tips and new pens for FireAlpaca, I've lost them all since I've moved new systems.) I finished it very messily soooo
I've been playing a lot of Tomadachii life: Living the Dream, and you KNOW I made Toga and Ochako and the first thing that happened when they met was Toga got a crush on Ochako before they even met fully, so they were still strangers. What was funnier was that I gave Toga a 'romantic movie,' she dropped it and Ochaco picked it up. When I told Toga to confess her feelings Ochaco immediately said yes and they've been dating this whole time. They skipped the friends stage entirely. It's currently 12 am and its been literally over 3-4 years since I've actually drawn so this looks like shit because its been a million years so piss off. (I would appreciate tips and new pens for FireAlpaca, I've lost them all since I've moved new systems.) I finished it very messily soooo
In which you had lived most of your life as a science experiment, trapped, hidden away as the last human on Ooo. What happens, after eighteen years of waiting underground, that statement may not be entirely true.
Fem body reader/brief mentions of she/her pronouns
TW!: Smut, dubious consent, brief blood mention, reader has needles inserted into them and has to drink unknown medicines, smut is not great
For a long time, you were alone in your fleshy-ness. Most people who looked even slightly like you, either had a magical ability or a third hand or tail just out of sight. Even if they didnât have an extra appendage, green skin and hair made of snakes often gave way to the creatures that lived and inhabited the land of Ooo.Â
For a long time, you were the only human.
You traveled, passed along many hands, leaving many kingdoms holding a new guardian's hand than the one you came with. You were just too complicated for most, too scary or too unknown. Most people were gifted you thinking you were a pet, but were majorly disappointed when it was realized you were just a child of another race that no longer existed. It was often a lonely existence, especially when one realized that you had grown up with hardly any friends or family, or really anyone to hold by your side.Â
You meandered all throughout the wild lands of Ooo, running from Witches and Wizards and living off the generosity of others until you had found yourself in an open rolling field, where the fabled Candy Kingdom was. As you walked along the bright and sunny grass, you steeled yourself to ask for the charity of the Princess that resided there. A blush was growing quickly at the humiliation of the familiar ritual. You were hoping that your well documented map of Ooo and its people would make up for the fact that you were just a simple, boring human that would be more taxing than rewarding to take care of. After a guard ushered you to her highness, Princess Bubblegum had hurriedly taken you down to the depths of her lab, where she would hook you up and stick you to many machines to test if you really were human.
After a couple months of this, she took you to a different room underground, where the sun shone through windows on the roof of your enclosure. You realized this was part of a greater test when you werenât allowed out freely, yet, you were okay with this. You knew that this would more than likely be your last home for the rest of your life, however long it was. You loved exploring and seeing all the different lands and people, but ultimately, you just wanted some place to rest your head and stay. Somewhere to call home.Â
For the months that followed, any time you had an ailment or disease, Bubblegum would provide you with a varying set of liquids and medicines, things to test which would work the best and which could harm you. After all, you were just an experiment.
Your arm was flat on the cold wooden table, the heat from your arm being stolen from where it lay flat. Bubblegum's touch was cold, and slightly sticky where she touched you. Her fingers often leave a tacky feeling on your skin. She never touched your bare skin for long, explaining that your touch was too hot, and often melted a slight layer of her outer being.
She slid a needle into your arm, and you held in your wince. The sight of your own blood always made you sick, so you turned away, feeling nauseous. She gave you a pitying look, but continued. This time, she didnât need much blood from you thankfully, only needing some after some had showed up in your undergarments. She wasnât worried you were dying after you continued to be able to walk and run around like normal, but she did want to test if you were sick. Your feet kicked in the chair you were sitting in, feet swaying in the air.
âHow old am I? Do you know?â You asked, never really thinking about it until now.
Bubblegum was silent for a moment, eyes hidden underneath her pink eyelashes and glasses.
âWell, if I had to go off ofâŠdata that I have, I think you may be around twelve or thirteen years of age.â She nodded, pulling out the needle gently and placing a bandaid on your arm. Tapping, she signaled that you could take it back. You had been here for about a year, but you had no idea what date you were born on.
âWhat data? Is there data on humans that you have? Can I see?â You asked, heart fluttering at the idea you could know more about your kind.Â
She shook her head, and placed the vile in a cold container. She pulled out a couple of medicines, and you knew she was testing you again. Your shoulder slumped, and you took the bottles without a word, and listened dutifully as she explained which were new and which were not.
âWhy do I have to take these so much?â You asked, knowing she would simply just sayâŠ
âFor science,â Your name on her light pink lips did nothing to quell the defeat you felt in your stomach, sadness overcoming you again.
There would be months at a time where you felt nothing but utter and complete sadness. Some days, youâd be too tired to even greet the Princess as she came into your room. There were times, on the other hand, where you wouldnât sleep for weeks on end, itching to get out and resume your exploration of the native land and people. You would take pages and pages of paper, scribbling it with the information you remembered and filling it with queries to ask the next time you visited a familiar land or village. This behavior was something you could remember having when you were younger, before you bled, but it only amplified after you first bled. After a couple times of this happening, Bubblegum realized you were having your period, a trait common in the more mammal animals of the land. As you grew, you attributed more âmammalâ traits, breasts, hair, continuous periods, and âsex changes.â
You asked what that meant at around your fourteenth year of life, confused on what that meant.
âIt means you are gaining traits different from the male counterparts of your species. Your waist and neck are smaller, you have grown breasts, you have periods, so on and so forth.â She answered, after pulling the needle out as she does every month or so to make sure you donât lose too much blood. Your levels seem to even when you eat an iron rich diet the week of your period.
âYou know this because of the data, right? That was left over?â You asked, mind a million miles away, wondering what else is left over of your kind. She nodded silently again, and you felt irritation rise in your throat. A habit you noticed she had a couple months of you being locked down in your room. It made your skin crawl with anger, wishing she would just show you what she knew, so that you could help her fill in the gaps of knowledge she may have.
âWhen can I go outside? You told me when I got stronger I could come out, I like science too. I just like exploring, mapping things out. You canât keep me down here forever.â There was a bite to your tone, harsher than what you wanted, but the sight of new bottles and vials made your throat close with fear and anger. There was a close call some months back when a medicine she gave nearly killed you. It had sped up the rhythm of your heart, before it stopped suddenly. She had to electrify you to bring you back from your close call with Death, you could swear you could still hear his voice in your nightmares.
Her voice rang out disappointment, calling your name out in a chastising tone, and it made you angerier. You got up, tipping your chair up from the jerky movement, and went to sit on your bed and stare out into the sky above.
âItâs too dangerous for you to go out aloneâŠIâŠwhat if something happened, and I was too far away to come get you?â For a moment, you believed there to be genuine concern in her voice, but the injustice of it all negated any warmth her words may have given you.
âI will kill myself if I stay trapped in this room any longer.â You snapped, teeth barred in her way.
After that, she gave you a crystal and gave you access to the grounds of the Candy kingdom. There were clear rules you were given, and if this test run went well, she would allow you week long expeditions around Ooo. If anything went wrong, you were to call her right away and call for The Morrow.
As you went around with a book and pencil, you immediately went to the walls of the Candy Kingdom and mapped out each curve and difference. You did as you used to when you were younger, and counted your steps along the walls and ignored others who tried to talk to you. This was the first step of your feet, which were about nine inches long. After, you would then map each building and ask the locals about their uses, and finally, you would talk to the native inhabitants and ask them every question imaginable about their life in their homes and everything surrounding it.Â
But, as you were writing down your steps and doing the math to see the area inside the kingdom, the Gumball Guardians were yelling and setting off their alarms, something Princess Bubblegum told you that if that were to happen, to call her right away. Obediently, remembering the rules she gave you, you did as instructed and called her on the crystal and called for The Morrow. Almost as if this whole situation was planned, her giant bird came and swooped you up, carrying you right into her lab as she congratulated you for following her directions so well. The Guardians outside did a swoop of the Kingdom and she smiled and praised you, holding out a lollipop for you as a reward. You gave her a look, an odd feeling rising as you pushed her hand to the side in rejection and looked all around her lab. Instead of touching, you immediately counted your footsteps, ignoring her analytical gaze on you. After, she checked your math as you finally visually explored the space around you. It was a moderately sized room, with a desk in one corner and a counter on another. The balcony gave you a pretty decent view of her Kingdom, a nice and sunny day to par with your bitter mood. Inside all of her cabinets were gadgets and gizmos youâd never seen, liquids and vials familiar and unknown. Either way, the sight made you slam the cabinets close, and that earned you a shoo out of her lab. She allowed you to wander inside her home for the rest of the day, taking note of each and every room as well as their workers.
 A little man named Peppermint Butler followed you for much of your wandering, as well as Bubblegum as she answered each question you had without fail. Sometime during your investigation of her room, she had acquired a clipboard full of papers and sticky notes. She wrote at different intervals than you, but no doubt you were the matter of writing. When you got to a room that had a triangle on it, she had finally put an end to your searching and led you back to your room, allowing you stops along the way.
After a good night's rest, she had come in holding a cake, with the number fifteen written on it, its pink lettering with a matching number candle eased your tension. Unofficially, Bubblegum made the day she found you the day of your birth. It was the unofficial official day of your birth, but anniversary of your âadoption.âÂ
âNow that youâre getting older, and getting more unhappy, I will grant my end of the promise as long as you keep yours. Youâre allowed a weeks long adventure before I request you come home.â She dug through her bag, handing you square items in a glossy. When she handed you the small stack of boxes, she looked at you expectantly. Smiling awkwardly, you grabbed them and muttered out a thanks before trying to set them on your nightstand. Giggling, she handed it back to you.
âNo silly, it's wrapping paper. Youâre supposed to rip it.â she grabbed an item again, taking a finger and pulling on the wrapping paper slightly, before it made a loud ripping sound and crumpled underneath her touch. You gave her a look as a blush rose up.
âYouâve never really given me anything, let alone something with wrapping paper on it.â You muttered, ripping apart the paper carefully. Underneath, a nice box with pens in it revealed itself. Your heart jumped up, and you ripped open the rest. A couple notebooks, a bag, some sticky notes, and everything you would need to write down and keep track of your discoveries lay in the middle between the two of you.Â
âIâŠthank you, Princess.â You muttered, truly happy at the gifts but feeling a little tired from yesterday's antics to want to go out anymore. âCan I finish my exploration of the Kingdom with my new gifts?â You asked, and she just smiled at you sadly. She had been trying to fix your mood swings, but it seemed like it was more in your head rather than in your body. It wasnât a sickness of the physical matter.
âOf course you canâŠbutâŠonly if you promise me to come straight inside if I call you on your crystal, alright? Sometimes the Ice King comes and Iâd hate for him to hurt you.â At the name of the demented Wizard, her face scrunched up cutely, pink cheeks flushing red. You nodded, that task seeming to ease you right back into your documenting habits.
The map hanging up in your new house was a wonderful addition to your wall decor. It was made of multiple different pieces of parchment paper, all carefully traced and copied from its original holdings. Next to it was your book of more detailed writing, you had most villages and other major kingdoms written down in this book, along with its size, its royalty, and population size. You had plans to go back to find out its allies, a detailed map of the buildings, and one day, if you got bored enough, to do a census and date it, and come back once every couple years to keep check. Of course, there were other plans, but you had a list of your favorite questions to ask written down somewhere in your new house. Bubblegum, for whatever reason, had let you loose to live in a neighboring forest next to her Kingdom. Still, she kept a close eye on you and visited you every week or so, whether or not you were gone. You still kept your crystal and now, a phone on your so she could make sure you were okay while you were out exploring. In your travels, you have acquired a horse and a trusty little pet to keep you company while at home. The horse, of course, helped you travel faster, because despite the fact that Bubblegum let you stay out for nearly a month at a time, with the size of Ooo, you needed to speed up the travel in the middle.Â
Your pink caretaker now had you on a supplement that suppressed your depressive and active moods, it didnât make them go away. Yet, that was something she never got annoyed at you for, even when you didnât want to eat or would be irrationally angry at her, she still stayed by your side to take care of you.
You were now Eighteen, or around, and you wanted to make something of your life. The princess was seeing Marceline again, which meant she knew about your existence, and for some reason, that bothered her. You never had any animosity towards her before, you even thought she was really cool, but every time you came around, or she would come with Bubblegum, she would shoot her nasty looks and stay silently floating near the door. It made you angry, but you couldnât do anything. You were only human, after all.Â
At this point, the past five or six years with Bubblegum had been the most stable and happiest, despite everything else. You owed her your life, she kept you safe, and you felt loved, even if she hardly gave you more than a tap or pet most of the time.
Still, you had been at home, trying to fight off the sadness that was slowly growing in you when she called you, her voice hesitant on the other line. Her tone was hesitant as she called your name.
âYes, Princess?â You answered, confused. There was murmuring on her end, and she said something you couldnât quite make out.
âIâŠI want you to come to the castle. Thereâs something I shouldâve told you a long time ago. Come quick.â She sounded defeated, like she was trying to hold onto the last of something that she could never keep up. Shrugging, you gathered your back and went out to hop on your horse, clicking and snapping the reins as you rushed to the castle.
As you approached the entrance of her castle, she was waiting for you, hands folded in front of her casual clothes. Beside her, Marceline and P.B. stood as well. The sight of the group made your confusion grow, letting another servant lead your horse to the stables.
âWell?â You asked, dusting yourself off lightly.
âInside.â She answered quickly, turning around just as fast. The walk up to her lab was quite, and you wondered why this was becoming a whole hullabaloo.Â
The door to her lab was closed, and you could hear two sets of whispering inside. Giving her a look, she just had a hand gripped on the doorknob.Â
 âBonnibel! Open the damn door!â The vampire hissed, yet, there was a gentle hand on your guardian's shoulder.
She flashed you a look, before turning to the grey creature.
âYou donât understand, sheâs like Neddie. Iâve been taking care of her directly. They wonât get along, they're too different.â There was sadness in her voice, her shoulders slumped and face pinched.
You knew that face, that face meaning she was just afraid of a new outcome that could be bad. An outcome that would forever change the trajectory of her, and your, life. Silently, you just pushed over the unlocked door, watching their faces twist in shock. Inside, stood two creatures.
A yellow dog and a pink creature, beside him sat a two toned green backpack, set with a blue outfit and a metal arm. Your eyes flickered up to his pale face, blue eyes looking at you with shock. Looking up fully to his head, your heart beat out of your chest. Your hand instinctively went to your own animal hat, a hat youâve had since you were little, and nobody else, a hat so ingrained into your character most times you forget to wash your own hair. A hat that was the mark of a human, you supposed.
No longer were you the last human.
For a long time, you hadnât been the last human.
You slowly stepped forward, everyone else frozen in shock.
The other human shot up, rushing over to you in a few quick footsteps, and immediately reached to touch your head. Flinching, you allowed the touch while your arms stayed half out, half in, hands uselessly flipped down. He sighed, when he didnât (or did?) found what he was looking for. His hand traveled down to your face, squishing your face between his fleshy hand and his metal hand.Â
âYouâre squisher than me.â Was their first word to you, voice much deeper than your own.
You slowly stuck out a hand to trace along their sharp jawline, feeling very quickly the bone underneath,
âYouâre skinnier than me.â You sassed back, and a crooked smile grew on their face. You made a face at their missing teeth, and they gave you a look back.
âWhat?â They asked, covering their mouth.Â
âYouâre missing teeth! Where did they go? Do you not brush them?â You asked, stepping back.
âYeah! Of course I do!â A blush rose up, and you looked over to the others who were giggling. You didnât mind, usually having a pair of eyes on you more often than not.
âThen where are your teeth?â You asked again, walking around them, looking over them as much as you could.
âIâm an adventurer! I got them knocked loose.â They explained, shrugging.Â
âWhy would you want to do something so dangerous?â You asked, sitting at Princess Bubblegum's desk. After a brief recount of their various adventures, the dog, which you learned was named Jake, ushered everyone out. As she left, Princess Bubblegum told you to call her if need be.Â
You learned many things about this boy, and he learned some things about you. It felt odd, like you were two scared animals meeting for the first time, and everyone was waiting for you two to fight. You didnât understand why Bubblegum hid him away for so long, and why she was so worried about you two meeting. While you didnât have a ton in common, you didnât hate him, you didn't hate anyone. He was slightly frustrated that you didn't understand his desire to adventure, to save everyone he met, but it was washed away when the realization that you two were the only ones left of your species.
You tilted your head, growing frustrated at him for not understanding your laziness.
âYou must understand, I have spent most of my life with either Princess Bubblegum, or a complete stranger. I have seen and experienced many scary people, forgive me for not wanting to experience that again.â You huffed, uncrossing your legs. You two were sitting on the ground, close enough to every once and awhile reach out to grab a random part of the other's body. Part of it was just to see if it felt the same, but deep down, you knew it was to see if this was real, if this wasnt some fucked up dream you were to all of a sudden wake up from.
âBut beating up evil people is so rewarding! Itâs why Iâm here. Why we are here.â He pointed between the two of you, fidgeting with your animal hat. His polar bear one was soft, and you had a desire to grab a pen and draw eyes and a cute little nose.
âTo think that humans serve one evolutionary purpose is to diminish the purpose of being alive. I like to go out, but Iâd much rather document than to justâŠbeat up strangers. I like to see rather than experience.âÂ
âIâm not just beating strangers up, Iâm saving other people.â He snarked, blue eyes boring into your eyes.
âAnd has everyone youâve saved agreed? Iâm not trying to take away from what fulfills you, Iâm just saying we're different. I respect your choices, you have to respect mine.â His hand was calloused, big and riddled with scars and hair. Yours were softer, smaller, and had significantly less damage done to them as his had. He took your hand in his, grabbing you and pulling you forward. With one hand, he traced the back of his fingers along your jaw and cheeks, feeling the soft plump skin underneath. Your skin was darker than his, despite spending most of your time in your room. He was pale, and it freaked you out a little to see all his little veins underneath.
Your heart jumped up, the feeling of his overly warm hands on your face in such an unexpected way made not just your heart flutter. After a pause, he mustâve realized what he was doing and pulled away, but his eyes never left your face.
âRight, sorry. My adoptive parents were like, investigators, and they helped people, and Iâve always known it was my calling. I guess I just assumed it was a human thing.â He pulled away emotionally and physically, bringing his knees to his chest. You crawled over, putting your hands on his knees.
âI donât mean to shame you, Iâm sorry Finn. Iâm not saying I am apathetic to the suffering of others, but I have spent my whole life being the poor little thing hiding in the woods, that I canât imagine myself being the person to find others. Maybe thatâs why I document things so much, itâs my way of helping others. With so little human information known, maybe it's my way of saving others the way I wished we could be saved.â You shrugged, but maintained eye contact the whole time. You may have picked up some odd habits from being the Princessâ little science experiment.
There was a hearty silence, before he touched your long soft hair, and you instinctively twitched into his touch. This was the most physical affection you have ever gotten in your whole life. You stared at him with a warm face, pushing your cheek into his callaused and warm hands. They were bigger than yours, and much more veiny than yours. In a sudden movement that startled the both of you, Princess Bubblegum rushed into the room, immediately gunning for you.Â
She grabbed your upper arm and pulled you up and away from his grasp, away from him. In a state of shock, you watched wide eyed and quiet as she pulled you two apart. There was a state of apathy as voices flooded around you, the swelling of the noise too much for you. Slipping out of her grasp, you took it upon yourself to rush to your old room downstairs, uncaring for Finâs cries.
âYour house is nice.â Finâs presence in your house was odd, hell, any other presence in your house was odd. The only other people who were usually here was either the Princess or Peppermint Butler. Both of them nonhuman. You couldnât tell if it was actually warmer in your house or if it was your nerves. Sitting on your plush couch, you nervously placed your sweaty hands on your lap.Â
âThank you, I have a lot of things from my travels that I think add interest to my home.â You took a sharp breath in, immediately overheating from the anxiety. Your leg bouncing drew his direct attention.
âI think I get it now. We're both traveling, both saving others. Just in different ways.â He coughed, taking a seat next to you. He was much closer than he needed to be.
âDo you have a partner? Most creatures often create relationships with others, and mammals often have best friends, for instance, cows.â You shifted, looking to your uncompleted map of Ooo.
âIâŠI mean, there is this one girl Iâve been interested in. Huntress Wizard, but sheâs not really looking for something serious right now.â He shrugged, and for some reason, that just crushed something inside your chest. Jerkily, you stood up and rushed to your kitchen, stomach flooding with a swirl of emotions you canât understand.
âHey, whatâs wrong?â Finâs voice was alluring in your ear, it was like a song youâd been missing your whole life, and yet, at the same time, he was poison on your tongue.Â
âYou! I canâtâŠâ You put your hand in your hair, tight hair nice in your fingers. âI donât understand why you make me feel so funny. We donât have much in common yet I dreamt of you, my whole life Iâve wanted to meet another human so desperately I would cry, and yet I never want to see you again! Hearing another interest in your life makes me sick to my stomach but being the center of your attention drives me crazy.â You could feel your throat closing up, tightening up to the point where you felt like your head was growing dizzy.Â
You jumped when you felt his metal arm on your flesh, the coolness of it against your hot skin made goosebumps form, and you looked over at him. His eyes were wide, and his white cheeks were concerningly pink.Â
âAre you-â You tried to ask, but he cut you off with a rough kiss, teeth classing with yours. You could feel where he split your lip, blood mingling with spit that formed between the two of you. Twisting your eyes shut after realizing that may be what youâre supposed to do, he leaned further into your space. He roughly grabbed your arms, squeezing the soft flesh underneath his rough hands. Trapped, you tried to walk back, instead, you tripped on the trim sectioning off the living room from the kitchen. Yet, as you tensed for a fall, you realized you hadnât moved at all. Pulling back and opening your eyes, you saw that Finn still held you tight in his arms, muscles tense and on display. His blue eyes wide, and fixated only on you.
Your legs felt like jelly, weak and wobbly with the attention of the male solely on you.
âMy-my room?â There was more of a question to your tone, it was less suggestive and more afraid. His red face got even redder in response, and set you upright to lead him to your room. The walk upstairs was shameful, the pit in your belly swirling from anxiety and the familiar weight of desire.
As you closed the door behind the two of you, you watched him search your room with his eyes. He awkwardly stood at the foot of your bed, hands crossed in front of his lap.
You knew how this worked, knew how to âcopulate.â Taking the incentive to take off your shirt, you couldnât tell if there was desire growing inside you or curiosity. His eyes never left your bare chest, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze never left any part of skin that was exposed.
âCome.â You pulled at his arm, leading him to sit with him on your bed with you. The tension in the room was odd and heavy, because while you could taste Finnâs desire for you, there was also that reminder that you two were strangers, and this was barely your second meeting together. Still, there was the need to know, the need to experience, something you two have naturally felt for years. It just so happened another human, the same age as you, was also the other half to your desire. Still, after eighteen years of waiting, there was nothing holding back that feeling of wetness that was growing between your legs.
âCan IâŠâ His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, mismatched arms on both of your knees. There was a slight pressure, the implication of his words answered with his physical actions.
âYes.â You nodded, allowing him to ease your legs open. You could see his lust between his own legs, tent heavy and slightly scary. Youâve seen animals, but it was different knowing that this was part of the biological purpose of your bodies. Of course there were other reasons for sex differences, community, biodiversity, etc, but this was the unavoidable topic of human nature.
Reaching forward, you tugged at his shirt, and you both smiled at each other awkwardly as he had started tugging at your pants. You both compiled, with his getting fully undressed along with you. Instantly, your lust was curbed by the desire to explore, to discover. You both did, he grabbed at your breast, gently caressing your nipples in gentle motions. Your hand jerked, digging your nails into his soft lower belly. The hair that led to his member was coarse and blonde, thickening the lower it got.Â
âSorry, did that hurt?â His hand shot back, but you could see his hands buck up, trying to put himself into your hand.
âNo-no. It felt good. Itâs just different when someone else is touching.â You grabbed his hand, making him cup the bottom of your breast to continue his touch. You saw his cock jump, seemingly interested in the force of your tone. Looking at his embarrassed face, you watched him flush and lip his red lips. Your gaze flickered down, watching as something slowly bead out of him. Without hesitation, you reached down to collect some, ignoring his gasp to taste the substance. It was extremely bitter, the taste lingering in your mouth. You tried not to make a face, but you were not without flaw. Finnâs brows scrunched, and he reached down to do the same. His fingers were cold and it sent a shock through you at the difference of temperatures. You felt your core squeeze in anticipation, face getting hotter at the sight of him tasting you.Â
He surprised you by diving down between your legs, mouth immediately attaching itself to your pussy. Angrily, you pulled his hat off and grabbed a clump of hair. The touch hurt just as much as it sent pleasure, his teeth catching at your sensitive flesh.Â
âYou have to ask!â There was a growl in your voice, more emotion in it than you ever had in any of your conversations. Your hands tightened around the roots of his hair when he didn't answer, but you stared at him in shock when instead of wincing, he bit his lip and groaned into the touch.
âDoâŠyou like it when Iâm rough?â You questioned, pulling his hair again. Yet again, instead of crying or pulling away from you, he just moaned as tears formed in his eyes.Â
âI-I think so?â His voice was watery, weak and submissive. You let go, worried youâd rip out hairs. Instead, you grabbed his neck and dug your nails in to push him away from your core. Gasping, you now had a full view of his leaking member, that same clear liquid as before.Â
âDo you know how this is supposed to go?â You asked, head titled. You could feel your impatience mounting, needing to feel him, wanting Finn to rut into you mindlessly, like a bull helping a cow in heat.
He shook his head wordlessly, so you guided his hips flush with your thighs, tip touching your entrance, leaking into you and flowing with your desire. You took one hand in response to feeling your unease build, and touched your clit. You tensed, a moan falling out of your mouth as the pleasure electrified you. Finnâs grip on your waist tightened as he watched you, legs and arms tensing as he held himself back. Slowly, you eased him into you, trying not to buck too much into your hand. He tried to push in with a sudden and jarring thrust, but you quickly grabbed his arm and dug.
âWait!â You winced, heart racing as you clenched around him.
âSorry, sorry, sorry Iâm sorry.â He panted, the skin on his fleshy arm growing red as you scratched down. Intending, you continued your ministrations on yourself to be able to fully ease him in. You donât know what was typical for humans, obviously, but there was a burn no matter how much you touched your clit.Â
When he bottomed out inside you, it felt nearly euphoric. It felt almost like you had eaten too much, and had woken up from a post dinner nap. He was heavy and nearly oppressive inside you, but his hot breath over you added to your desire. When you nodded to give him the go ahead, he grabbed your legs and started off with a rough and deep pace. His cock hammering into you over and over, reaching parts inside you that you never did on late nights. He lifted your legs with ease, his breath not even halting with his intense pace.Â
Finnâs voice was deep and gravelly, skin slapping against skin loud in the quiet of your room. You could feel your stomach tightening, lighting shooting down your left leg as your pleasure mounted. As you looked into Finnâs eyes, you could feel the end coming near, the familiar knot in your stomach growing and growing. Suddenly, ruining your high, Finn stopped, head hanging down as he uselessly jutted against your pelvis, already as far inside you as he humanly could.Â
âWhat? What happened, are you alright?â You asked, moving your hips to the man's dismay.
âW-wait, stop!â He whined, face pained. âI think IâŠI think I finished.â He muttered, neck going red.
âSo? Keep going.â Frustration mounted in your chest, trying to continue your movements.
âIt hurts, I canât.â He pulled out, dick now limp against his leg. It was puzzling, and as you pushed yourself up from your flat position on the bed. You felt something leak out of you, and looking down, you saw lots of that familiar white fluid leaking out of you.Â
âWell, I havenât finished yet.â You could tell there was a slight pout to your voice, but you couldn't help it after being so close to cumming. Finn bit the inside of his cheek, before motioning you to sit on his lap. Curiously you did, and jumped when his fleshy hand touched your clit.
âMaybe I can do the thing you were doing? It feels good, doesn't it?â He hummed in your ear, fumbling around and missing the spots where it felt the best. You grunted, grabbing his hand and leading him to the spots where it did feel good. You twitched and jumped at every movement, biting when the sensation became too much, but refused to quit.
It was easier for him to slide in the second time after he got hard, feeling him hitting from a different angle inside you made your feet clench. Your gentle bites to muffle your grunts turned to attempts to hide your near screams. You refused to let him stop, the feeling of him inside you and massaging outside you was too euphoric. You felt the knot in your stomach grow once more, and this time, you finally finished. The familiar fluttering of your pussy must have egged Finn on, and for the second time, he awkwardly stuttered and pushed himself as far as he could inside you.
You two stopped, breathing heavily in the now hot room. Both of you staring into the otherâs eyes, mouths just hovering over one another, but never touching more than once. There was something settling deep in your belly, and you could tell it was growing in Finnâs.
Walking beside Bubblegum, you waved a polite hand Finnâs way. He, in turn, furiously waved a hand back. Jake just scoffed at his enthusiasm, dragging him out of Candy Kingdom, but not before you two shared a knowing look.
You and Finn may not be the perfect pair, and wouldnât really consider each other friends even, but you two had a bond as humans that no other being, including hunteress, could replicate. Awkward mornings could always be recovered by late nights, after all.
also i just wanted to remind everyone that while i am doing requests, I also have my commissions open to everyone! I am way more likely to accept your stories, while knowing i have veto power in both situations, and you are way more in control of them than you are with requests.
Requests are also only limited to ONE short story ~1k words give or take, unless i feel inspired or many people would like a part 2 or more, like hating you as well or a lot of my miguel fics, as i have a lot of other projects i have to work on and I simply just dont have the time. Whereas comms would be my number 1 priority! Even if the price would change, I can try to fulfill any wishes to be done!
i also know that we all have our likes and dislikes, and i dont want to yuck anyones yum, but i am very wary about taking in requests/coms for said yums. ive had an experience where i wrote for a very specific audience and it did not go well on my side. Nonethelss, i want to remind everyone that i have my fanfics/fandoms list on my pinned post, but dont be afraid to ask if i know/am in a fandom! link to my pinned and kofi below
masterlist
kofi for comms, starting at 5 dolla for 1k words (or if you just wanted to be nice!!!)
Are you open to writing requests for Miraculous Ladybug, or the film Monsters vs. Aliens, or Supergirl?
Hii!!! Oh my goodness this is my first ask in awhile and I was so happy to see this!! Ive seen miraculous and supergirl content, but ive only watched monsters vs aliens
Hello everyone!! My requests are open!! I also have commissions that are open as well! The difference between my commissions and requests is that i have the power to deny requests or go wild with them, versus commissions you are my muse!! I still won't do anything too intense, as per my main post, but I am in a lot of fandoms even if I may not list them!!! Theyre a meager five dollars for at least 1k words, and you can ask me to write most anything in it for you, and i can personalize it as much as you want!!
Here's a list of fandoms I'm currently in and/or write for:
Spider-Verse
My Hero Academia
The Last Of Us 1 & 2
Grand Theft Auto V
Undertale
Rick and Morty
Harry Potter
Adventure Time
The disastrous Life of Saiki K
Dexter
Mystic Messenger
Blue eyed Samurai
The Boys
The Office
Bojack Horseman
...i cant think of anything else, but if you ask if i know it i can answer with a no or a fic! A gamble!!
I freaking love michael. i want to eat him whole and stretch him and tear him into little pieces.
I Love You
In which you were the innocent college aged girl, feeling crushed by the incredible loneliness of moving to a completely new state, and a handsome older man just keeps showing up to the little coffee shop you work at. You were the sunshine to his grump, his angel to the devils in his ears, surely stereotypes exist because they work?
Fem!Reader: She/Her pronouns and descriptions
TW!: NSFW, grooming (textbook grooming, the reader is of age but they are isolated from friends and isn't taught healthy relationship standards), manipulation, pretty big age gap, 18/19/20 year old reader and 40+ Michael, inappropriate relationship, poorly written smut because I've been out of practice.
Every day was kind of the same: you wake up, go to school, talk with classmates, walk to work, walk home, do homework, and fall asleep. Rinse and repeat.Â
Every day followed that same schedule, not always to a T, but the same withstanding. You went to school at USC, and since you didnât need to declare your major yet (freshman-ess and all,) you havenât given it much thought. You enjoyed your Psychology class, scratched your head at your business 101 class, and plowed through your core classes. Thankfully, you were able to skip the intro classes since you scored pretty well on your AP classes, but you still had to take some.
Looking out the window of the standard coffee shop you were in, you thought about your time in California. Itâs been nice, a lot warmer than the PNW, thatâs for sure, a lot more people, LOTâS of young wild girls. Many girls from your hometown were either wanna-be hicks who lived in the suburbs, or mean girls from the countryside. Here, there was a lot of âOh no, Daddyâs paying for my first year of college,â and âOh youâre here for free? That must be so nice! My parents are making me work to help chip in for tuition, ugh!âÂ
You werenât here for free free, thatâs for sure. But with the situation you were in, getting scholarships and applying for federal aid wasnât that hard.Â
âHello? Is anybody home?â A gruff voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.Â
âOh, Iâm so sorry! I-I was just..distracted, how can I help you?â You blinked away your thoughts and tried to get your standing back on reality. Your smile got a little bit more real when you realized it was a regular who comes in nearly every day.
He was an older man, I mean, much older than you. He was kinda stocky, with short black hair and a constant five oâclock shadow. He was handsome, despite his eye bags and overly cocky attitude. There were moments when he stank of alcohol, but those moments were thankfully short-lived and rare.
âWhat were you thinkinâ about, bags or somethinâ?â He jested, part teasing, part old man thinking.
âNo.â You rolled your eyes, preparing his cold brew with no flavorings and light ice. âI was actually thinking about college. How is your day going, Michael?â You asked, busy with your work. You could hear his shrug, but he said nothing else. You turned to look at him after his wordless reply, he usually has something negative to say, not nothing.
âEhh, itâs going alright, kid.â He said, scratching his face and avoiding eye contact.
âIf it's going alright, then why are you being so weird?â You asked, ponytail going to the side along with your head. âYou arenât usually so quiet.â You put his drink in front of him as you rang up the till.
âDonât worry about it, youâve already got college to worry about, right? Focus on that.â He already had his card out, and for some reason, you wanted to talk to him longer. He usually talked for a bit or had a conversation with you with more sustenance, but he was off. So, boldly, you quickly printed out his receipt and scribbled on it.Â
âHere! Take this, please⊠whatever's on your mind, justâŠI don't know.â Embarrassment quickly consumed you, making your face a fiery mess as your back started to sweat and your words came out in a stuttered mess. Michael just stared at you, eyes wide with shock. âTake this before I melt into the ground out of embarrassment.â The crinkled mess of paper only grew more crinkled as you shook, the sweat on your hands wetting the paper slightly. You could see the conflict in his eyes, his feet shuffling as his drink sloshed where he turned to leave. Slowly, with the attention of everyone in the small store, he took the receipt and left, now making eye contact.
You felt the tears pool in your eyes, so mortified that everyone had stared at you as that went down, but the mortification turned into relief as the man left, shoving the receipt into his pocket instead of chucking it.
âWow.â One of your coworkers said, staring at you as she held a half-made drink.
âShut up!â You huffed, quickly disappearing into the bathroom.
You were in your dorm when you got the text, sitting in your underwear as you scrolled through chat rooms and forums on your cheap laptop. You quickly rubbed your fingers from fudge stripe residue, trying to read who you got the text from. Everyone saved in your phone had a designated ringtone, even people you didnât really like. The people you liked had a happy tone, those you didnât got a monotone computer ding, but nobody had the automated ding.Â
Opening your flip phone, scholarships could pay for school, not for a fancy iFruit; you clicked through to messages to see who it was from.Â
Unknown Number (555-839-1424)
Hey.
You could feel your heartbeat shoot up, the loud THUMP THUMP in your throat. You felt so giddy, like a little girl on Christmas, hearing the yapping of a little puppy. You decided to wait to respond and ask for advice from your roommate.
âAngie, you awake?â You whispered, turning over to her side of the room. She had her earbuds in, the wire bouncing along with her head as she tapped rhythmically on her law homework. You shook your head, you knew she was awake, obviously, but the text threw you off guard. Crawling out of your bed, you reached over and stood over by her, hovering. You saw her scribbles, you always thought it was cute how she annotated in her books. She glanced over to you, then looked back, before she realized you were standing there and jumped.
âJesus!â She groaned your name in exasperation, âI didnât know you were standing there!â Taking out her headphones, she paused her iSeed and looked over at you.
You were always kind of jealous of her; she got here with academic scholarships and help from mommy and daddy, she went to a preschool, elementary school, and so on and so forth. She was president of the NHS and was Vice president of her Key Club. She started clubs and did Track. She was always using the newest device and wearing the nicest makeup. It made you feel so small, like you were some grub who managed to sneak in where you didnât belong. Playing with the rich kids, trying to play catch-up, as your mother used to say.Â
She never really let you celebrate any wins you may have had. She always has something negative to say, always about your weight, your face, the size of anything on your body, big or small. Your mother was an odd one for sure.
âThe guy texted me, and I donât know what to say.â You stated, blush over coming you as you handed her your phone. The light green screen reflected on her confused face.
âUgh, I havenât used one of these in forever.â Her valley girl accent was thick, you used to think they were cute. Now they taunted you with sneers on the way to class. You saw her mouth move with the singular-worded text you received, moisturized lips parted, showing her perfectly straight white teeth. You hated her. Hated girls like her because it made you feel so much lesser than, like you really had been the grub of the Earth, scuttling under everyone's feet as they passed you by. It wasnât Angie's fault; she earnestly hasnât done anything wrong to or by you. If anything, she was the closest thing you had to a friend here, no one took the time to look your way but her. A large part of you knows itâs because you two are roommates, but a smaller, more wistful part of you hopes that she really couldâve been your friend no matter what.
âWho is this?â She asked, and you released your lower lip from your mighty jaws, letting them rest. You blinked at her owlishly, grounding yourself back from your thoughts.Â
âTheâŠ.â You snapped out of it. âThe guy from the coffee shop! He comes in like, basically every day.â You waved your hands anxiously, pulling at the ends of your hair. She eyed you for a moment, tired eyes staring back at their reflection. Her face pulled in disgust, the muscles in her mouth twisting in a snarl.
âThe old guy? The one who literally is always wearing a suit?â She asked, phone tilting forward in her manicured hands.
âHe's not old! He's older, and yes, he looks cute.â You defended his honor, twisting your body at the window outside your dorm room. You were sweating again, god, why did you have to sweat so much? The anxiety of her judgment stuck to your skin like tape, its sensation pulling at every insecurity you had and ripping them out for the naked eye to see. âI gave him my number because he looked sad, and what better reason than when someone is upset?â You shrugged, looking at her again. She was deadpanning you, but she eventually just shook her head and turned back to your phone. She was deep in thought, the fading remnants of homework time to normal teenage girl time were putting her brain in overdrive. Immediately, you knew the moment an idea popped into Angieâs head, as she started clicking away on the numeric keypad, the muscle memories of her past came back to her.
âHere, because a text at like,â She blinked hard, turning over her own iFruit, âtwelve am can only mean one thing, girl.â She shook her head, leaning back on her pillows. You read over her text as you returned to your side of the shared space, lips pursing as you mulled it over.
Hey, whatâs up?
You shook your head. That was too simple. You deleted it and typed a new message, and while doing so, you heard Angie shake her head while mumbling something. Surely annoyed you snapped her out of her focus just to ignore her advice.
Is this Michael?
Your hands were sweaty and shaking as you looked at the message, just sitting there, waiting to be sent. In a moment of impulse, you sent the text and threw your phone to the end of your bed. You tried to pick up some of your literature homework, which consisted of reading some crappy old poetry you were bound to dislike anyway. The words jumbled and jumped around with your heart, the words losing their meaning as your blood rushed around your nervous body.Â
Ding.
You raced to your phone, eyes wide as you stared at the screen.
You cringed immediately at your response and his, immediately hiding in the covers of your blankets in a puddle of embarrassment. Damn you and teenage awkwardness.
Youâre funny kid.
You waited a few minutes for Michael to respond, since he didnât seem to have the same habits as you. You awkwardly texted him back.
SoooâŠwhat are you up to? (. â Ꭰâ.)
You wanted to die.
What do you think Iâm up to?
Texting meâŠ? ÂŻ\_(ă)_/ÂŻ
Well, yes.
Whatâs up with the little faces?
Theyâre kaomojis! Youâve never heard of them? °â±Â°
Kamojs? No I have not.
Youâre so old! Teehee (Ë¶Ë á” Ë˶)
Theyâre like little faces on your phone. Ancient emojis
The hell are emojis.
Omg you ARE ancient ( ˶°ă °)Â
Theyâre just another way to convey emotions. I like them because theyâre cute. Like, look at this one! âž(ïœĄË á” Ë)âžâĄ
LOL, that is cute. What are you doing?
âIâm going to bed, donât have phone sex in the room.â Angie's voice broke you out of your trance, blushing face snapping towards her as you watched her tuck in.
âI wouldnât!â You gasped, offended that she would even think that. She just rolled her eyes, turned off her lamp, and rolled over. You sighed and turned back to your phone with a smile. Michael was silly and definitely out of touch with technology. He was direct, which was nice because there wasnât small talk. Well, this was small talk, but it wasnât âoh the weatherâs niceâ small talk. More like, âoh hey! I want to get to know you!â Talk. You resumed your lip nibbling as you typed out a response.
Texting you silly! What else would I be doing? (àčá”â€á”àč)
Homework. Youâre in college, right? Iâm sure you have some fancy homework to do.
That response actually took longer than expected. You wondered what took him so long to respond.
Psht, you sound like an old man. Plus, Iâm taking a break. Talking to you is worth more than homework. (ăŁ- âž - Ï)
Michael took a whopping twenty minutes to respond. You knew it was a risky text, so forward for only texting him for thirty minutes, but you wanted to make your intentions clear! You actually had to charge your phone and relax, and you managed to pull yourself back to reality when you got a response.
Want to take a break?
You didnât fully understand what he meant, and you were hoping he didnât mean a physical break from it all. Or you suppose exercise. You felt the warm metal of the thin ring on your ring finger. A promise from your father, an old tradition youâd hope would die out. You shook your head of the thoughts, maybe he didnât have those intentions?
Define break?
A drive around town. Los Santos is surprisingly quieter at night. It helps me clear my mind.
Pick me up at 635 McCarthy Way, Los Santos?
Actually, can you meet me just a little bit outside of USC? I realized you wonât have access in, itâs late.
USC? Like as in University of Southern California?????
I told you, Iâm in college :p
Iâm impressed.
You felt your stomach flutter at the compliment, and as quickly as you could, you used the energy talking to Michael gave you to get ready as quietly as possible. You found a cute crew neck, some sweats, and you put your hair up and put on a little mascara and lip gloss. Quick hands made cute faces.
Racing out into the hallways, you made your way out as you adjusted your purse. As you ventured out of your dorms, off campus, and stood just outside the entrance, you felt your excitement mount. Still, you made sure your pepper spray was easily accessible but hidden away. You heard Michael before you saw him, nice car humming along the decently quiet night.Â
You couldnât see him through the tint of his car, so you awkwardly hung your head to try to look through the window to see if it was really him. You startled at the sound of the window rolling down. You heard him laugh, a handsome âJesus.â fluttered out of his mouth. Your stomach twisted into more knots.
âHey! I didnât know if you were some psycho murderer! I was just checking.â You grumbled, sweaty hands grabbing at the door handle. You shoved yourself into his sleek black car, leather seat warm despite the chill in the air. You quickly learned that hot days meant freezing nights during your stay in the desert area.
âYou still donât.â He looked over at you. His face was illuminating, and despite his age, he looked good. He surprisingly had thick eyelashes for a white guy, his hair not quite thinning yet, and a teasing smirk on his face. You blinked at him, eyes wide. Despite his appearance, his comment threw you for a loop. Thoughts raced in your head, but the loudest was, well, if this is how I go, I deserve it.
âIâm fucking with you, calm down.â He guffawed, putting the car into drive as he slowly peeled away from the sidewalk and into the empty streets. You took a deep breath, steadying your racing nerves.
âI knew that,â you sassed.
âSure you did, kid, sure.â He smiled, looking at you through the corner of his eye. They were beautifully blue, not the unsettling kind like some people have, but sort of like a stormy grey.
âI did! I could sense it off of you, like Spider-Man.â You joked as you peered around in his car. You took note of his music, unfortunately, country, the lack of decorations, but you also noticed the fact that your seat warmer was turned on already. You smiled at the thought.
âThe superhero? Iâm not sure youâve got the chops to be a superhero, you get startled by windows rolling down.â He looked at you as he took a right, one eyebrow raised.
âAh! Says you!â You exclaimed in mock hurt.
âAnd what is that supposed to mean?â He all but growled, eyes now squinted in a testing manner.
âYouâŠ.are wearing a suit at one in the morning.â You smiled and crossed your arms, pretending like you had a âgotchaâ moment. He made a dumbfounded face, laughing at your absurdity. âItâs true! I know you wear a suit every day, but it's one in the morning, Michael! Iâm wearing sweats and flip-flops!â Now it was your turn to laugh, lightly teasing him.
âHey! Can you judge a man for wanting to impress the ladies? Plus, donât think I donât notice the gloss on your lips.âÂ
You blushed, a guilty smile forming on your face.
âThatâs different from a suit, good sir. Iâm sure that has to be uncomfortable.â You shook your head, leaning back to watch the world pass by. The lights of businesses and apartments are a blur despite the slow-moving sky. âIâve always loved the stars, it sucks you canât see them out here. Thatâs one of the biggest things I miss about home.â You sighed, a pang shooting through your heart.
âYou come from the country? Or higher up in the mountains.â Michael asked, a bit of bitterness in his voice. Did he think you were some silver-spoon brat?
You shook your head and looked back at him, your low ponytail hitting the headrest. âFarther, Iâm from Cle Elum.â You smiled, waiting to see his reaction.
âWhere the hell is that?â He asked, looking at you with a slight bewilderment.
âWashington, silly! Itâs a small town about an hour from Seattle, Washington. I graduated with about 150 students.âÂ
âAnd how did you end up here?â Michael asked, real astonishment in his voice.
âIt was my fatherâs dying wish for me to attend San Diego State University before he passed. USC gave me a better scholarship, so Iâm going there for my bachelor's, and then Iâm attending SDSU for my master's and PhD.â You hummed, cars zooming by without a care. âWhen he died, he made for a pretty damn good scholarship essay.â There was a beat of silence, and you dared not look at Michael's face.
âIâm sorry, kid.âÂ
âIâm not a kid, and if I am, then this is a pretty weird situation.â You snapped back. There was another moment of silence, only broken by you.
âIâm sorry.â The words slipped out of your mouth in a whisper, shame swallowing you whole as you messed with the stitching of your sweatpants.
âNo sweat,â Michael grunted.
âIâm sorry, I-I didnât mean to snap, Iâm so sorry I justâŠI donât know, Iâm sorry.â You quickly wiped the tears forming in your eyes, willing them to stop.
âHey, hey, itâs fine. Donât start with the waterworks, alright?â Panic was apparent in his voice, and it made you laugh. You watched his confused face, but he said nothing further.
âWhat about you? Are you from here or somewhere far, far away?â Your voice wavered as you got rid of the last remaining tears. There was silence as Michael mulled over the question. He seemed conflicted, but ultimately decided on,
âIâm from Michigan. I never knew what happened to my old man, and really, I donât care.â You could tell that the words lay heavy on his heart.
âWhy?â You pried, voice soft.
âHe had a heavy hand, ân when I was young, he skipped town and I never saw him again.â His grip on the steering wheel grew tight, and he stopped a little harder than necessary at the next stoplight.
âMy father was in and out of my life. He was deep into his life as a gangster, and itâs not easy getting out of that life, believe it or not.â You laughed, and Michael laughed a little too roughly to be unnoticed. âHe would visit every blue moon, and it was fun when he would. But as I got older, I realized that my mother and I competed for his attention. So they grew sour. Especially because, for a long time, I didn't understand why he couldnât just leave.â You hummed, trying to find common ground.
âYeah? My mother always shit talked my father, and when I landed in jail for the first time, she left my sorry ass too.â Michael sighed, turning down the radio as memories flashed in his eyes.
âMine too, except the leaving part. Wait,â you shook the tired out of your eyes. âYou went to jail?â You asked, flabbergasted. Michael looked back at you, just as surprised as you. You suppose he didnât mean to say that part.
âUh, yeah, for a failed robbery.â He scratched his head with one hand, driving up a hill with another. You giggled, somehow in your delirious mind, that was hilarious.
âWhy are you laughing!?â Michael was taken aback, looking at you as he put the car in park. You looked over and realized you were parked high up on a hill. A soft smile grew on your face as you took in the sight. You shrugged and looked back at him.
âI just canât see you robbing a bank, and itâs funny to imagine you failing. Iâm gonna live the rest of my life pretending the job failed because your pants fell down.â You giggled, folding your arms across your stomach.
âI did not!â He shook his head and blinked. âMy mother died sometime in the 2000s. So Iâve got no relatives that I know of, alive.â He looked over the hill, not making eye contact.
âMy momma's still kickinâ, but we donât talk. Iâve got younger and older siblings, but I was my father's only. That I know of.â You shrugged.
âHow did your old man die?â The crickets were loud, and the distant sounds of honking and music kept the night from being completely silent. The light pollution kept you from seeing the stars, and the air pollution kept the dark night sky a weird, muddy color.
âShoot out, here in L.S. He was up against a rival gang and justâŠcouldnât get out in time. I miss him more knowing heâs never coming back.âÂ
There was a long stretch of silence, only broken by the shift of music and distant yells.
âI get that.â Michaels's voice was almost a whisper.
âMichael.â Your voice was light, your tone questioning. He answered your name back.
âDid you bring me out here hoping weâd have sex?â Your heart was loud, blood pulsing in your ears as they grew hot. There was that silence again, and you dared not look at him.
âNah.â You heard his head shuffle, and you looked over at him. You searched deep into his eyes, trying to scuff out the lie or dishonesty. You found nothing. You sighed and relished in the silence. You realized it was kind of nice to just be quiet with him.
âGood, because I like you, and Iâd like to get to know you as a person, not as someâŠ.fuck buddy.â You choked out the words, embarrassed that you said them at all. He laughed at you, and you turned to look at him with disbelief. âWhy are you laughing! Stop it!â You hit his arm, and he pulled away while still laughing.
âIâm sorry kid, itâs justâŠfuck buddy? Seriously?â He laughed again, and you hit him again.
For the next couple of weeks, you would meet up every other night for a drive. Sometimes you talked all night, and others, youâd sit in silence and watch the traffic below. You could confidently say Michael was a monster on your sleep schedule, and you knew you were to his as well.
Still, you enjoyed your time with him.
He made California more bearable, and as the weeks stretched on, you felt more and more out of place. You could hear passing talks of parties and night clubs you never knew existed. It didn't feel as if you traveled two states away, but instead two countries away. Off into a different plane of existence, like everyone was living in 3D while you were stuck in your 2D world.
Michael made you feel special, though. More special than any other boy or girl could. He made you feel pretty, despite being a nobody from Washington. The girls here were a different monster of pretty. Their pretty had echoes of crying on the bathroom floor, scales their enemy, and their mother being the final boss. It wasnât as if you werenât in the same boat, but they had the performance aspect of it all. You did not. When you were upset at your mother, you did not have to pretend to love her, she never made you turn around to kiss her cheek. Maybe it was because of your father's visits, but you two would get into screaming matches, sometimes being brought out for the public eye.
But none of that mattered with Michael.
He never commented on how much you ate, but instead how little. The price of things never mattered with him (that always left a bitter taste in your mouth,) but most of all, he always answered when you called.
He was starting to become integral to your living; he was a need, not a want, for your health. A text from him in the middle of class always lifted your spirits.
âHey, are you listening?â
You blinked, turning your head back to Angie. Her perfect face was turned into one of annoyance, hands waving in front of your face.
âS-sorry, I zoned out!â you blushed, trying to grab all your thoughts and throw them away in favor of focusing on her and your coffee date.Â
âDid you hear anything I just said?â She asked, shaking her head as she rolled her eyes and took a sip of her tea. That was one thing about Angie, she always drank tea, never coffee. You looked down, nervousness overtaking your nervous system as your brain filled with thoughts of shame and regret.
âNo, Iâm sorry, Iâve been kinda spacey latelyâŠâ You admitted, playing with the lid of your coffee cup. Your thoughts were half filled with school, half filled with Michael. Thinking about him, when you would next hang out, and what you would do during said hang out was all that mattered now.
âYou know, you should ask to hang out with him during the day. Not just the night. It's weird, even if you two arenât having sex while you're hanging out.â Angie said off-handly, coming down from her anger. She stirred her tea with one hand, and you watched the movement, watching the light drink swirl and shift with each pass of her stirring stick.Â
The realization that you two never really hung out during the day weighed heavy, and your idealistic dreams weaned away like waves before a tsunami.Â
âBefore you start getting all weird quiet again, I was just sayingâŠâ She sighed, shoulder slumping as she looked at you again. âI have some friends whoâŠhave been asking to invite you to a party theyâre gonna have.â She chewed the inside of her teeth. âI never go, because my dad says anything wrong that happens could be a stain on my record, but they..â She loses her words before straightening out again. âTheyâre not great girls. Theyâre all the silver spoon bitches you hate, so if a random group of girls come up to you, just ignore them, alright? They donât have good intentions.â She was staring into your soul, and you nodded sagely as another worry was added to your plate. You wondered who these girls were, since you werenât in any clubs, youâve become a recluse. Your social life was completely dead, so youâd notice if a group of girls started whispering about you.
âWhy donât we ever hang out during the day?â The art gallery was filled with other young people. Taking pictures with their cameras and looking around, half drunk.
The question lingered, and you dared not face him. See what his eyes would tell you that his mouth would not.Â
âIâm a night owl doll, what can I say?â Michael shrugged, suit creasing with his movement. Every time with that suit.
âBut you have to have a job, right? Thereâs no way youâre not dead in the morning.â You fully turned to him now, hair swishing around your face. The banana clip he bought you was a nice addition to your night outfit. He had eyebags now, and it seemingly exacerbated his age. You never minded the age gap, there was no imbalance, you two were adults on equal footing, just in different stages in life. Youâd soon be in his.Â
âIâm retired sweetheart, I have all the time in the world.â He grabbed your chin, rubbing the corners of your jaw softly with his calloused fingers. They were warm, and safe. Closing your eyes, you could feel the bumps of scars on them, and you felt the love that seemed to seep out onto your skin, whispers of comfort flowed throughout. You felt silly for even thinking he could think of you less than, and you felt bad for misinterpreting his intentions.
âYou just have to admit, it's a bit strange.â Your eyes fluttered open, and you took in his face. He had lines of age, wrinkles that showed how stressed he used to be, and his smoky breath reminded you of his bad habit. His lips pursed, and he let go of your face so that he could turn his away. There was a pregnant pause, and people shoved passed you as you took up aisle space. Normally, you wouldâve stuttered out an apology as you ran to get out of the way, but with him, it didnât matter. He was your forcefield, your protector of the world.Â
âI get really bad nightmares doll,â He put a hand in the small of your back, leading you through the crowd of people. Your feet mindlessly followed his direction. âBlood on my hands that I never shouldâve taken. News clippings of missing people.â He shook his head, seemingly clearing away his thoughts. Looking back at you, those storm grey eyes seemed even stormier, as if the descriptor were a literal statement, youâd see heavy rainfall and the leftovers of a hurricane in his mind. A past filled with so much pain you could never imagine. âThe government paid me a lot of money, so I got to retire earlier than most people. Got a lot more money than I know what to do with.â He shrugged, taking a lot of interest in the "Untitled" (Portrait of Ross in L.S.) exhibition they set up. The sight made your heart sad, feeling it squeeze tight in your chest. Seeing drunk people wade through it made you angry; they couldnât be bothered to pay respects to the piece.
You didnât want to ask him what, and you knew youâd be answered with a non-answer, so you decided to fall into another silence.
.
..
...
âIâm not hanging out again unless it's during the day. A coffee date is fine, butâŠI canât do this anymore, itâs hell on my sleep schedule.â You laughed awkwardly, legs turning to jelly as you tried to be as confident as you could. You got more nervous as silence met your demand, stretching and etching into the vast emptiness of the college campus. Well, the gates of it anyway.
âItâs a date kid.â Michael shrugged, getting off his car and entering the driver's side. You waved him away, and when his car was out of sight, you sighed in relief. Looking up in the night sky, you scowled when no stars met your gaze.Â
âOh girl, this isâŠâ Angie sighed, tutting as she turned back to her bed. She was always either studying or in her Journal of Law & Society meetings. You knew you were wasting your time at USC, but Michael took up so much of your mindâŠit seemed like nothing else mattered. College wasnât easy either, especially at USC, so your time was wholly devoted to Michael, homework, or work. It was all fine, you were doing fine.
You snapped your head at her, feeling very overdressed for a simple coffee date. You had decided to have one after all, and you decided to go to the one you worked at, since theyâd give you free drinks (hopefully.)
âWhat?â You asked, but youâd really hope she wouldnât have an answer. You felt cute for a second, but now that thought was ripped away from you, and you felt like a pig in makeup. It was nice while it lasted though.
âI justâŠIâve been hearing some stuff about this Mr. Perfect, andâŠIâm worried about you girl.â She admitted, crossing her perfectly tanned legs. Her eyebrows were pinched, and her glossy lips tight.
âLike what? Because Iâm certain heâs not a crazy murder rapist axe murderer. I would know.â You tried to laugh off, but your cantor was too off for it to be a joke.
âNo, that heâs married. With kids our age.â She shook her head, looking at you.
Married? No, youâd know if he was married. The telltale mark of a ring on his finger would be a dead giveaway. Someone wouldâve answered his phone when you texted during the late hours of the night, someone wouldâve answered for you when you two called, someone wouldâve called him when he left during the wee hours of the night. You would have known.
âThatâs not possible.â You answered resolutely, because it simply wasnât. You turned back to finish putting on your mascara, mouth opening a little as your head swam.
It wasnât possible. You were grossly awkward, weird, but you were not stupid. You got into University of Southern California for godâs sakes, and you got in on academic scholarships. You knew people, living with an unstable person allowed you to become a prophet of human whims. You. Would. Have. Known.
Thereâs no way he wouldâve been able to sneak out without making a noise. Michael was not one for subtlety, plus he was retired, so there was no âpicking up another shift, babe.â or âBoss made me stay late, donât stress.â There was no way around it.
You heard Angie calling for you, disappointment in her voice laced with the delicate sound of pity. You gave yourself a once-over before grabbing your lip gloss as a final touch to your âcasualâ date outfit. Turning to her, you gave her a look, eyebrows pinched and chin tensed as your lower lip pouted out ever so slightly.
âIâll ask him myself.â You tutted, turning right out the door, closing it before you realised you didn't grab your bag. Sighing, you turned back to awkwardly grab it.
.
..
...
Your least favorite coworker was behind the bar, so Michael ended up paying for your drinks. You apologized profusely, deeply embarrassed that you had just made him pay for so much for what was supposed to be a free little date.
âKid, donât sweat it.â He tried to shoo away your anxiety, but it only made you sit in it quietly. He looked at you expectantly as you two sat down, stirring his cold brew with one arm behind the chair. The aroma of the shop calmed you, sweet foods and coffee were familiar to you, so the environment wasnât all that scary. Taking a sip of your own drink, you sighed, looking out the window at passersby.
âDo you ever wonder about the lives all these people have had? I mean, just recently we hit seven billion people.â You turned back to Michael, sitting straight up with wonder in your eyes. âCan you imagine that? Thereâs seven billion stories to be told, that's fourteen billion eyes give or take, seven billion hearts just pumping blood on this Earth.â You rubbed your lips, your eyes taking you back out to the window where you saw people laughing, enjoying the cooling air. The months have passed in the blink of an eye.
You met Michael at the beginning of your freshman year at USC, and you enjoyed all of September being the apple of his eye. Now that fall is rolling in full swing, you feel as though your bond with him was real, something that could actually be.
But still, there's no perfect thing in the world.
Michael just chuckled, rolling his eyes as you went on your tangent. You blushed, feeling a little embarrassed that he was not as astonished as you.
âWhat!â You asked, offended.
âYouâre so young. So full of theseâŠâ He waved his head over his head, as if swatting a fly, âbig ideas.â He smiled, shaking his head. You rolled your own eyes, kicking him in the shin, not hard enough to actually hurt, of course.
âAnd you're so old, have you ever thought about that?â Crossing your arms, you slouched over, truly feeling a little hurt that he found your thoughts childish.
âOh, c'mon, kid, donât be like that.â He sighed, leaning back.
âItâs just a thought, itâs not like IâmâŠâÂ
Stupid. You werenât stupid. Shame filled you like hot water, something fast that clouded your sight.
âKid, I didnât-â
âAnd stop calling me kid. Iâm not. A kid, I mean, Iâm not a kid.â You sat up once more, staring at your plastic coffee cup as if it were the one to offend you.
âWell, you're not an adult.â Michael scoffed, surprise filling his voice.
âSo that makes this pretty weird for you, then, huh?â You snapped back, anger shaking your hand like an old friend. You could feel your voice rising, eyes flicking your way.
âWhatâs got your panties in a twist today? What, are you on your period?â Michael's eyes were alight with anger and disgust, and you could see him tensing to boot right out of the shop.
âWhatâs got my panties all twistedâ You snarked back, disgusted with him. âIs that you might be married.â Your tone was entirely too loud now, but you couldn't care less. All of your anxiety flushed away at the pure indignity you were feeling. You could hear shuffling as people moved closer or farther away from you; either way, you didnât care.
There was a heavy silence as you stared at Michael, and he in return. You both teetered on the brink of no return, daring each other to take another step. In the same breath, there was that underlying hurt from each side. Your breath was heavy in your chest, a weight crushing you. As the moment grew longer, you could feel shame well up inside, just as fast as the anger. You felt incredibly embarrassed, and you started shuffling to leave.
Michael cooed for you, his deep voice tender and soft. âWait, justâŠletâs just sit and talk, alright?â He held his hands out, trying to placate you. You half-stood, half-sat for a moment. Awkwardly, you sat back down, looking at him with a hot face and a throat full of thorns.
âIâm not married, IâŠused to be. Recently. The divorce was messy, and she took everything. We were friends with people in high places, and my kids like to hang out with kids older than them; theyâre both in high school so they have to hang out with college kids to get alcohol.â Michael shook his head, a weight off his shoulders.
You laughed, loudly and fully. You felt so much better knowing Michael had delinquent kids who hung around your colleagues than him making you his mistress.Â
Michael gave you a funny look. You stifled your laughter, mumbling apologies as you shook your hands, trying to reassure him.
âIâm so sorry, Iâm really sorry about your divorce, but itâs hilarious that your kids being delinquents who hang out with the older kids makes me feel better.â You blushed, rubbing away imaginary tears. Michael just laughed, closing his eyes as he shook his head in disbelief. You both gave a little laugh before another thought came into your mind.
Doubt.
âButâŠif you are lying, MichaelâŠI donât think I could ever forgive you.â You admitted, eyebrows pained as you smiled weakly at him. âI mean, if I found out you really do have a wife, I donât think youâd ever see me again.â You laughed humorlessly, and he said nothing in response.
âMy friendâŠshe told me that stuff yâknow. Iâm sorry for the way I reacted, I think during that conversation, I was really in my head.â You sniffled, looking through white dresses in the overpriced store mall. The fabric was coarse between your fingers, unfamiliar and rough.
âDonât stress it, doll.â Michael's hand was warm on your lower back, large and reassuring of his presence. You leaned towards him, his smell reassuring. You two had a pretty extensive talk after the whole coffee debacle, you were back to semi-normal. There was an awkward little pause between your normal routine, but it just as quickly snapped back into normal.Â
âYeah but I was weird, and gross. I just felt so much, and I guess you had to be the punching bag.â You sniffed, idly looking at all the clothes without wanting any of them. The overpriced tags and ugly clothes made you even more upset. This stuff was only cute on super skinny girls, factory made to make the other 80 percent of women feel bad about themselves, and the 20 percent feel the need to stay skinny, no matter how their bodies grow., or didnât.
You turned to face him, his stocky frame intimidated you, when paired with his creased and hardened face. He was holding up a sweet little dress, but soon set it down when he saw your warm, teary face.
âI-Iâm so sorry Michael, I really am.â You sniffed, trying to wipe away the tears before they could fall, as if the preventative act would hide the crime of crying in public. His arms encased you, hugging awkward and heavy. At the same time, it was comforting. His large and overpowering statue was reassuring in the same breath, the same arms that could hurt could hold, he could so easily snap your neck as he could cradle your face.
âReally k-sweetheart, donât worry about it. The past is in the past.â He cooâd, yet body stiff. He pushed you out of the hug, holding you at arms length as he looked over your face. He brushed away a stray tear, touch lingering on your face. You shuffled away, feeling awkward as people glanced at the two of you sideways, he seemed to feel the same as he cleared his throat, grabbing the dress once more.
âI thought this would be cuteâŠbut, it's your choice.â He sort of tossed at you, but seemingly regretting his decision halfway through. You just laughed as you smoothed out the baby doll dress. You smiled brightly at him, eyes crinkling at his soft smile. He seemed like the type to never smile often, when you would catch glances at him when you two werenât making active conversation. Those hard lines and heavy burdens would return, but with youâŠthey just seemed to float. Never gone, never dissipating from the back of his mind, but just hovering where they could be ignored. As you spun around in the changing room you thought of all the secrets heâd half confess, words he could never truly say despite the cover of the night. Now, conversations were light, happier, but flat in substance. You tried to ask him for his opinions, but his old age made him relaxed, his cushy life made him sedentary. You seemed to be on different wavelengths at times, on different planes at different times on different clocks. But he provided stability, provided something no one at school could. He provided for you when your mother didnât, answered your calls when your father didnât, he gave you that human connection that no one on this damned Earth did.Â
Angeline was your only friend, but you two hadnât talked much since you had defended him to her. You two had an argument and hadnât talked much, your dorm room no longer a safe place. He was the only thing you had now, and youâd be damned to give him up, to let him go.
You shyly slipped out of the dressing room, watching for Michael to notice you. He was typing away at his phone, but your shuffling signaled him to look up. His tense shoulder slid down, and he got up with his arms ready to grab at your waist.
âYou look adorable doll.â He muttered in your ear, turning you to look at yourself. He rubbed his hands over your every curve, not missing an inch of skin on your body. Even though you were very average looking, he still made you feel like a runway model. âIâll buy it for you if you donât want to buy it.â You grabbed his hands, calloused fingers rough between your soft hands. He made you feel safe, despite all the worldly turmoil you were facing. The stress of work and school, added with your social outcast at school, Michael was everything, in the face of your nothing.
Walking out of the over crowded mall, feeling the sun on your face with his hand on yours made everything feel right.
You were carrying a very heavy textbook to return to the library, with the fall term coming to an end, you would no longer need the books that had so helpfully carried you throughout. You were too busy texting Michael to notice a gaggle of girls coming your way.Â
âExcuse me.â One of them called out, shooting out a skinny arm to grab and stop you. You tripped over your new shoes, eyes widening at the sight. Notably, the girl grabbing you was a young blonde with bright blue eyes that held anger in them. âHello! I know you.â She smiled, but there was no real mirth in her face, mouth tight. Your name on her lips were foreign, acid bubbling just beneath the surface. She looked young, too young to be on a college campus.
âWell, I-I donât soâŠGoodbye, I must go!â You awkwardly stuttered out, sweat breaking despite the early California chill. You tugged your arm out of her iron grip, and ran off, passing the library to hide behind the campus building. Gasping, you tried to fight off the tears that threatened to fall. You dared not look behind you, in fear of seeing them again. You didnât know why her appearance scared you so bad, why it felt like a bad omen. Nevertheless, you abandoned the idea of going to the library in favor of calling Michael for an emergency hang out.
âYou let me take care of you all the time, how is this any different?â Michael asked, seemingly tired of your arguing. You were walking along the beach, enjoying the last bits of warm sun and warmer wind. You had been complaining to him how you feel so alone at school, you barely had any friends, and you and Angeline were still on thin ice. It was hard making friends there, everyone either grew up in the area and were content with the friends they had, or they simply thought they were better than you one way or another. It was frustratingly lonely, to say the least. Not to mention the group of girls who seemed to be watching you all the time. It felt like they were just one education level away from bullying you. Instead, they watched you from afar and whispered.Â
âBecause this is so different! Renting out an apartment for me is crazy Michael.â You half yelled at him, exasperated. You two had been going back and forth for the whole duration of your hang out, since he had brought up the idea halfway through your moody rant. You knew it was partly to get you to shut up, throwing money at you seemed to be his way of fixing any problems that might arise, still, it was unacceptable.Â
âIt really isnât that expensive doll.â He shrugged, taking a lick of his ice cream. Although he was wearing sunglasses and his mask of indifference, you could see the smug look creeping on his face. When you had as much money as he did, it really wasnât that much to him.
âIt really is though, and anyway, what about saving your money? Youâre still young for an old guy, and you donât work.â You countered, because even though to him an apartment wasnât much, doesnât mean they werenât in the literal sense. You knew Michael had a history of crime, his first unsuccessful bank run was just rotten luck and inexperience, you had learned, but it seems like itâs been a minute since anything like that happened. His luxury car, nice clothes and assuming a nice house wouldnât be cheap, especially not in a city like Los Santos.Â
He just shrugged, grabbing you off guard by letting go of his grip on your hand to grab your shoulders with that same arm. Your fruity drink sloshed around, some of it spilling on your new shoes he had just bought you. You tsked in disappointment. He rubbed your arm with his warm hand, and you looked back up at him.
The idea of him renting out an apartment for you sounded nice, but you donât want to be that dependent on him. The nice clothes and jewelry were all things that could be simply pawned off or returned without all the mess of a breakup that an apartment might. You liked Michael, well, maybe more than just liked him, but you two havenât even mentioned dating yet. No talks of something serious like a commitment like that. Yet, at the same time, he has been texting and calling you near daily, and hanging out with you, not only during the day, at least three times a week. You wished it could be more, you wished and longed to wake up by his side every morning, but you knew his kids would hate to see another woman in their house so quickly after their divorce. So, you never mentioned it, despite wanting too during your late night car ride.
So, despite your growing need to be by Michael at all times, you couldnât tell exactly where he stood with you two. He showered you with gifts, sure, but also love and affection. He was the only person who dealt with your crying spells and anger and still came back. If he didnât answer right away, heâd call you the second he could. You couldnât ask for more, and yetâŠ
Taking a sip of your drink did nothing to quell the bubble of nausea growing in your stomach.Â
âYou kids go to schoolâŠright?â You asked, unsure of even yourself as you asked.
âYeah?â Michael answered with just as much confusion in his voice, grip on you loosening as his gaze lowered. You could barely see his grey eyes underneath his black sunglasses, but they were full of confusion.Â
âWell, why donât we go back to your place?â The feeling of excitement that would normally be in your belly was absent, instead full of said nausea and nervousness. You wanted to stop talking about the apartment, you wanted to stop talking about school, and work, and his lucrative filming studio. You wanted to know he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.Â
Michael stopped walking along the concrete path, people simply walking around you two as if you were nothing more than a light post.
âA-are you sure?â He asked, slightly bewildered, his grip on you tightened, and woefully, you could feel his excitement.Â
You nodded your head silently, a bitter taste forming in your mouth.
.
..
...
His house was nice. You took your time wandering around the white downstairs. The brown tile flooring was a nice accent, and to your disappointment, it turned into an ashy wooden floor. You saw hanging pictures of children, but you noticed spots where it seemed like a picture had been freshly removed. Your eyes merely glanced over said photos though, as you paid more attention to the decadent downstairs. The stone felt nice between your fingers, shoes clicking lightly on the flooring. It was pleasantly warm in the house, and despite Washington being significantly colder than California, you were quickly becoming accustomed to the dry heat and soft chill.Â
You heard Michael rushing down the stairs, face absent of glasses and full of barely contained excitement. He had told you to wait downstairs as he got his room ready, and you get help but think he was hiding his bachelorette pad of a room. He slowly walked over to you, acting as if you hadnât just heard him basically running down the stairs. You smiled at him, the bad feeling returning to your stomach. You had just wanted to see more of him, wanted to consume every part of him that you could. His hand was snaking underneath your top as he gravitated towards your neck. You jumped, feeling your body reacting to his touch, but your brain not seemingly getting the message.
âCome on.â He muttered, looking at you with those stormy grey eyes. You nodded, lump in your throat too heavy for you to open your mouth. Up the stairs, you giggled at his touches on your behind, feeling wired the closer and closer you got to the upstairs.Â
His room was surprisingly tidy for a man like him. Youâd expect it to be messier than this, thinking he was upstairs just shoving shit under his bed. But it wasnât, and it smelt pretty pleasant. He softly shoved you on the bed, and you landed on your bottom. Looking up at him, you felt your face heat up and palms get sweaty, feeling more and more unsure of what was to happen. The golden band on your ring finger feeling ice cold compared to the furnace that was your body. He went back to attacking your neck with kisses, and as his hands slid your top more and more off you fidgeted more and more. You couldnât breathe, air escaping you as you tried your hardest to be in the moment and appreciate the touches of Michael you were being given. You closed your eyes when he pushed you down, trying to relax as hard as you could.
After nothing happened for a moment, you peaked out through your eyelashes to see what the older man was doing. He simply sighed, and took a heavy seat next to you.
âKidâŠâ He shook his head, adjusting his shirt. âIf you didnât want this, then-â
âI-I do, I swear I do, I justâŠâ Your heart was pounding, and you wasted no time shooting up and crawling over to him. âI havenâtâŠlikeâŠuh, you know.â You shrugged, tears forming in your eyes as you grabbed his hands. You loved his hands, they were probably your favorite part of him. They were always so warm and heavy, callouses grounding you and reminding you he was there for you. He was a very touchy person, and you knew he was listening to you when his fingers would run over your knuckles, or squeezed your waist to bring you closer to him.
His look of disappointment lingered as he tried to decipher what you were trying to tell him, before glancing at your ring and sighing. He knocked his head back, thunking in the silent room.
âIâm sorry, I really wanted to.â You sniffled, sitting back as you tried to wipe your tears without letting go of your hand.
âIâŠâ He sighed before trailing off, he ran his hands over your arms, squeezing and touching your skin whenever he could. âWhy did you ask to come over then? Why didnât you say anything?â He asked, trying to mask his mounting anger. You knew he wasnât mad at you, just frustrated. At least, you hoped so.
âIâve never been to your house.â You choked out, tears falling even faster. âAnd-â Your throat made a frog-like sound, and you looked up at him in surprise. You let out a hearty laugh, and him a slight chuckle.
âCome here.â He sighed, pulling himself more into an upright position. He opened up his arm to allow you to slide in his side, an intimate position youâd never shared with him. Hesitantly, you cuddled your head underneath his chin, trying to listen for his heartbeat despite being on the opposite side. For a moment, there was silence between you two. He rubbed small circles in your back and you played with the buttons of his dress shirt.
You two hardly shared kisses, only really given by you. The most was multiple kisses to his stubbled lined cheek when he forgot to shave for a bit.
âI just wanted to see your house, I wanted to see more intimate parts of your life. Even if that meantâŠâ You muttered, nestling closer to his warm body. You honestly didnât mind his weight, despite him being upset by it. You liked him on the bigger side, since you ran cold, and him hot, you two were a perfect match.
âDoll, you know with the kids and everything, you canât just be over.â He sighed into your hair, despite you being here now after promising sex.
âI know, thatâs why I lied. Iâm sorry.â You whispered, feeling tears all over again. You heard him sigh once more, brushing kindly at your cheek. Michael was kind, but he wasnât very patient.Â
âIâll goâŠâ You jerked away, grabbing your bedazzled phone.
âNo, kid, wait.â He grabbed the back of your shirt, sliding out of bed. âThis is why I want to get you your own place, so we have somewhere to be. I want to spend more alone time with you, time not spent in my car, but thatâs just not possible here. Donât be difficult, okay?â He turned you around, and was looking at you from his spot on the bed. You fixed your face, hands rough, still feeling the ebbs of disappointment and sadness. You smiled at him, knowing he was trying, even if that was just throwing money at you.
You sighed, resigned. âOkay.â You nodded your head, because despite the fact that you didnât want to be that indebted to Michael, you did love him, and wanted what you could have of him.
There were a lot of kids in college who said they lived on campus but didnât, whether that be just because they were always at another person's place, or because they did live somewhere else. Still, it was strange. You decided to skip class one day to move all your important stuff out of your dorm so you didnât have to meet Angelineâs cold gaze. You hated the fact that she was still mad at you, hated that she couldnât just be happy that you had actually found someone here. You knew she didnât like his age, but you were all adults now! It hardly mattered when you were legally able to make your own decisions.Â
The added bonus of being off of campus was the fact that you didnât have to see those girls as often. You didnât know their intentions, but you knew they went somewhere else by the fact that youâve never seen them in a class. They often showed up after hours, and always in a big group heading off of campus. They probably knew the people who went to parties, and simply hung around waiting for them. You didnât have a car, so youâd catch their glares every now and then, but your new apartment wasnât all that faraway from school.Â
Getting used to living on your own was weird, it was strangely quiet, no thumps in the night or yelling in the morning, and it was very bare. You still had your job, but you didnât work very much, not with Michael around, so you didnât really have the funds to splurge on all new decorations and furniture. Michael had given you the essentials, and promised more in the future, but you knew that would take a bit. You did a little bit better in class though, having your own space to sprawl out and having no one else made homework the most exciting part of your day. Having a full ride meant having really good grades, and while you werenât failing, getting Câs in your classes was not acceptable. Thankfully, you got them up before the fall term ended. You were now getting into the thick of it with your winter term, so your workload was being doubled before your very eyes. It didnât really feel like winter though, by now, youâd have snow and harsh winds paired with icy sidewalks. Yet here, in the golden state, it was simply just rainy and chilly. January was soon coming to an end, and because of a certain someone, you were especially excited for the month of love.
A knock on your door alerted you, and while you crawled over to look into the peephole, you were very excited to see a familiar face.
You quickly unlocked the door and threw yourself at the angry man, he picked you up as you giggled and squealed, before setting you down with him on the couch. He quickly captured your lips in a hungry kiss, lips dancing as he fought dominance over you. It lit a fire in you, his touch making you lean more into him, desperate for more. His hands quickly slipped under your shirt, roaming freely underneath the cotton. He swiped his thumbs underneath your breast, and the touch alone was enough to make your heart skip a beat. The desire you had for him grew everyday, and everytime he came over you wished you were braver than you were so you could be intimate with him.
Ever since that day, you two decided that it would be best to take things slow, but still speed things up when it came to physical touch. Michael had his own desires, and it was getting harder for him by the day to resist that urge. So, you decided on heavy petting and intense kissing, and just riding the wave wherever it took you two.Â
Breaking the kiss, you looked at him with a flushed face and blown out eyes. You smiled and laughed when you saw his intense face contrasting with the line of spit connecting between the two of you. He always looked so handsome, but it was a completely different category when it came to his âhornyâ face, as youâve privately dubbed it. His eyes grew a little darker, and his serious face was even more so, and it made you squirm in your seat knowing he was holding back from eating you up.Â
âWhat's up.â You whispered, a small smile on your face. Michael chuckled, pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs around his.
âYouâre cute, you know that.â He roughly grabbed and shook your cheek, before letting go and resuming his touch along your torso.
You squirmed, and turned your body to close your laptop. Looking back at the man under you, you saw the hunger in his gaze. You wanted to give him what he wanted, to fulfill that desire that was surely growing in the deepest parts of his stomach, and yetâŠ
You rolled off with a grunt, landing awkwardly on your plush couch. You shot him a crooked grin before shoving your sock clad foot in his face. âSeriously, what's up with the surprise visit! Iâm not getting evicted, am I?â You asked, tone light to hide the nervousness and excitement you felt. He pushed your foot away, grabbing it and trapping it so he could tickle you mercilessly. You squealed, trying to squirm away from his grasp.
âCanât I pay a visit to my pretty girl? I miss ya is all.â He asked, but there was more bite to his tone than usual. Finally escaping his grasp, you sat back up and looked at him. His shoulders were tense, and the furrow in his brow that seemed to go away when he looked at you was back. âSitting like that is horrible for your back.â He chastised you, poking you in the stomach. You huffed, but got up to go around him. Rubbing his shoulders, you leaned down and whispered in his ear.Â
âYou just seem so tense Miky, I hate seeing you so uncomfortable.â You teased, pressing your fingers into the fat of his back. âYou have such a strong and wide back.â You hadnât ever really paid attention to his stocky frame, simply always just enjoying him as a whole.
He didn't say anything about your comment, nothing other than the shiver that ran through him, but he did relax under your touch.
âI used to play football when I was in high school. After my mom left, it was the only thing I had.â He admitted softly, reaching for your tv remote to help quell the silence. That was something new you noticed about Michael. While he loved to get lost in his mind, the noise of music or the television was something he always craved.Â
âDid you like it?â You asked gently, knowing he didnât mention his mother very much.
âLike it? I loved it! I got put in the newspaper a couple times. I wanted to go pro but,â He sighed, throwing the remote into the depths of your couch. You continued your ministrations, hands unable to go lower than his upper back. You went back and forth between rubbing and scratching at his neck and head lightly. âDamn injuries held me back. I was better suited for stealing.â
Hearing about his criminal past was rarer, something you could tell he was always on the edge of bragging about, despite his moody temper.
âReally? You seem so strong! Even now in your old age you seem pretty fit.â You stopped, and crawled back over to cuddle into the suited man. Today, it was a dark maroon, your favorite. It currently matched your gel nails, a new hobby you had taken up.
âAre you makinâ fun of me doll?â He asked, that anger back into his tone. You looked up with him, a little hurt that he would even consider that.
âNo, I was being serious. Youâre strong, you lift like it's nothing, and I am not petite.â You hurriedly explained, not wanting to add to his anger. He gave you a look before he slumped his shoulders again.
âWhatâs wrong Michael?â You asked, rubbing his neck, trying to pressure him to just look at you.
âI found out my ex-wife cheated on me, when we were still together. And she slept with him in our bed!â He yelled, and you could see the vein popping out of his head. You shrunk away from his touch, but tried to maintain eye contact.
âIâm sorry Michael, that must be a horrible feeling to have. I canât imagine the betrayal, someone you loved so dearly betraying you in your own bed.â You shook your head, hands awkwardly playing with each other. He just sighed, and patted your knee.
âItâs alright, Iâm just in a sour mood.â He sighed, rubbing his head.Â
âDoo, you wanna kiss then?â You offered, shrugging. Youâd never really been in a serious relationship, just people passing by whom you never really gotten to know. Michael was the closest thing you had to a boyfriend or girlfriend of any kind.Â
The man just laughed, grabbing and pulling you back into his warm embrace before catching you in a heated kiss. Even if you werenât an official item, you knew you were his and he was yours.
Fall turned into winter, which quickly sprung into spring. The weather finally started to warm up again, now in that sweet spot of not too hot or too cold. You have been doing exceptionally well in your classes, but havenât done much else. Your professors warned you that if you did not do more during your undergrad years, getting into your master program of choice would be that much harder. You also needed to start thinking about what your major might be, needing to declare your life's goal sooner rather than later. So you decided to join some volunteer groups, and engage in the more academic clubs on campus.
Though, despite all this, there was still one constant in your life.
Michael. Despite your new workload, and all the new people youâve met, Michael still took time out of his day to come over and hang out with you.Â
Heâs still paying for your apartment, no questions asked, still takes you out on the occasional date, the rare night drive, but you have seen less of him.
You two couldnât go out the night of Valentine's day, as he had a business meeting, and his kids wanted his attention for the whole week. Apparently his youngest had gotten in trouble again for partying and drinking with older kids. You were getting worried about her, but whenever you brought her up and her behavior, he seemed to get snappish, so you usually left the topic of his kids alone. He did manage to spend Easter with you though, and that was enjoyable, despite not really caring for the holiday. It was nice to be with him on a holiday, at least. He was partially responsible for you joining new clubs, after your âconstant complainingâ about how lonely you were. Sometimes, especially the longer youâve known the man, he would get quite irritable. Yet, you found it cute, knowing he was just a grumpy old man, and you were his light in the darkness.Â
Still, your relationship was progressing, he took you out on actual dates, in fancy places where there were dresscodes, and showed you new and exciting experiences you wouldâve never had without him. Tonight was a special night though, you had just passed your spring exams, and it was a celebration in honor of just you. You felt you were floating on cloud nine as you got ready, gliding about your apartment as you found the correct shoes and earrings to match your pretty dress. You knew it was nice since it was a brand you didnât recognize, but felt nice underneath your fingers. Michael took the liberty of giving you clothes he liked you to wear, since you never really minded his fashion choices. You usually dressed plain otherwise, just putting on whatever jeans and sweater you could find. Tonight, he wanted you to wear a specific perfume and a specific dress, and you were more than happy to oblige. Grabbing your bag, you pulled out your little flip phone to text him that you were ready. He tried to get you a nicer phone, a matching iFruit like his, but you refused, holding onto your poorly bedazzled pink flip phone. You were unwilling to part with the memories and little charms that hung off your sweet little phone.
Iâm ready, my old man!! (˶' êł '˶)
Iâm already outside princess.
Jumping up, you rushed out the door, barely remembering to lock your front door as you exited. You still made sure not to scuff your shoes though, the shininess of the heels was too pretty to lose. His black car was humming, knowing he was just sitting and waiting for you made your heart skip. As you lowered yourself in the car, it smelt deliciously like him. His mature cigar smell, slightly bitter but slightly sweet almost hung in the air, but not overshadowed by the smell of sandalwood and fancy cologne. He looked handsome, as usual. His hair was slightly slicked back, his face recently shaved, and his eyes were full of mirth at the sight of you. You leaned in, not letting him get the first word as you pressed your glossy red lips against his chapped ones. You groaned slightly into the kiss, before he pulled away.
âYouâre going to get me all riled up before we even get there doll.â He huffed, wiping his mouth with a napkin he had on hand. You smiled, flipping down the visor to check your lips for any misplaced lipstick.Â
âYou look beautiful, doll. Makes me wonder what youâre doing with an old fart like me.â He grunted, turning the random country music he had playing up a little. His hands tapped lightly to the lyrics, not the beat.
âI like you, you old fart.â You giggled slightly, before snapping the visor back up. You put a hand on his thigh, slightly massaging the tense appendage. âPlus, youâre really not that old Michael, youâve just now lived through half your life. Youâve still got quite a bit of time before you kick the bucket.â You teased, smiling at him. He just grunted in response, he never did like the age comments. He often relived his early days of constantly being on the run and living off of stolen food and drugs.Â
You arrived at his place of choice, a fancy restaurant somewhere in the heart of the city. As the valet drove out of sight, you realized something that actually bothered you quite a bit. You had become quite reliant on Michael, and became very used to his grandiose way of living. Looking up at the chandeliers as you were led to your table, their sparkle didnât excite you as much as it did. Class started to almost seem boring, tracking down the minutes or hours before you could return to Michael's arms and return to his lifestyle of choice. It perturbed something deep in you, and you know your younger self would've been disappointed in the woman you were becoming.
âMichael.â You called, still lost in thought. He hummed as he took a sip of his whisky, and you watched him sniff slightly as it travelled down his throat. âDo you think Iâve become spoiled?â You asked, picking at your newly done nails. You hadnât even liked doing your nails before you met him, as the longer they were, the harder it was to type on your computer. Still, he had given you money one day to do them and you obediently listened. That was another thing, you couldnât tell if you had become less anxious, or simply the obedience that you were attaining was simply masking your nervousness. It was hard to tell these days where Michael began and you ended. âI know it sounds silly, but when you brought me in here, I wasnât as excited as I was the first time, Iâm just, content. Is that bad?â You shrugged, looking at him, expecting him to answer with the truth. Instead he downed the rest of his drink, and harshly set down the empty glass, flagging down the water for another. He leaned back and looked at you, that same wonder that used to be in his eyes gone.
âAll women get used to the princess treatment doll, itâs about time you stopped looking at me like I handed you the fucking world.â He snapped, and you wanted to burst out into tears. You knew he's been upset lately, but he's never taken that anger out on you, heâd only ever been kind to you, sweet on you. Your mouth opened slightly, trying to swallow that familiar lump away.
âI-well, I thought you liked that about me. And I just, IâŠI donât know, forget I said anything. Iâm grateful for you Michael, everything youâve given me, Iâm sorry if I made it seem otherwise with what I said.â You tried to blink away the tears as fast as you could, to ruin your makeup tonight of all nights would be the icing on this shitty cake. You heard him sigh, and he set both of his arms back down on the table.
âShit, I donât know, doll, I just.â He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face roughly. He reached out, and grabbed your hand, stopping your insentient picking on your poor fingers. âIâm sorry, Iâve just been so stressed out with my wife. Sheâs been on my ass about the kids, and my job, despite the fact that Iâm fuckinâ retired.â He admitted, calloused fingers helping soften your now soured mood.
âYour ex-wife? Why does she care about your job?â You asked, sniffing loudly. You dabbed at your eye, drying them. Looking back up, you saw the glimpses of a regretful face, but it quickly disappeared off of Michael's face.
âYeah, she's just trying to get as much money out of me as she can, despite our kids almost being fully grown. I mean, I know you never stop taking care of the snot nosed brats, but still.â He pulled away when the server asked what would be for dinner, and Michael answered as you turned your head away so he wouldnât see your watery eyes and think ill of Michael.
âIâm sorry Iâm not much comfort Michael. I wish I could understand your heartbreak.â You gave him a sad look, hoping your wishes were at least some comfort to him. He smiled slightly, that furrow in his brows finally lifting.
âYou beinâ worried that your spoiled is enough comfort for me princess. I didnât mean to be so nasty, Iâm sorry.â He answered honestly. The rest of the dinner was akin to that sort of soft conversation. You talk animatedly about school and your new social interactions, and Michael seemed genuinely proud of you, even if he did have a comment or two to make. He went into detail about his new film that he was excited about, another action movie about an older man reviving his career. You just smiled and shook your head at him. He was so cute and so comforting when he wasnât so bitter. You knew it was hard for him, the death of a friend, and doing so many awful things weigh on the soul. But Michael seems like heâs genuinely changed, and despite everything going on with your lives, he still shows up for you.
The car ride was equally as comforting, even if no conversation was made, it was still nice. Back at your apartment was slightly different though, there was more of a tension in the air. Back in your room, you sat on your vanity, slowly taking off all the jewelry Michael has gifted to you in the past. His hands on your neck spooked you, but looking up at him through your lashes sent a warm heat in the bottom of your belly. He was looking back at you with just as much desire, and it felt electric as his hands touched the back ever so gently. He set down the necklace with a gentle sound. Standing back up, you slowly took your shoes off and set them to the side, before coming up in front of him and wrapping your arms around his neck, and gently swaying to an invisible beat. His hands immediately went to your waist, rubbing the flesh there as he took the lead in your silent dance.
âSoâŠyou come here often?â You asked, a nervous smile on your face. Because even though you had known Michael for quite some time now, he still made your stomach wiggle and squirm. But this time, you werenât afraid, you werenât scared of him.
He gave you a look of mild disappointment, before shaking his head and slowly walking you towards the bed. âYes, yes I do.â He gruffed, voice low and husky. He leaned in for a kiss, which you quickly reciprocated, it was feverish, like he was trying to devour you all in one bite. There weren't any fireworks, but it was hungry. There was something you could tell he wanted more than anything from you, and you had been waiting for the right moment. Tonight had been so serene, so quiet and calm with him that you just wanted to disrupt that silence. Wanted to give him something you could never take back.
His mouth slipped from your mouth, traveling down your sensitive neck to leave bites and kisses. It felt electric, the soft touch sending shivers straight down your spine. You hit the bed with the back of your knees, and it sent you tumbling down, leaving Michael standing alone. You giggled at the hilarity at what just happened, and brushing the hair out of your hair, you looked at Michael, expecting a disappointed look from him. Instead, his face made you swallow your spit, belly fluttering once more.
His hands were now on your bare calves, eyes cast down and onto your laying form. His mouth was serious, but he was drinking every little detail about you. Grabbing both your legs, he pulled you flush against his clothed crotch. Feeling the slight warm heat coming from inside his pants made you squirm, hardness meeting the softness of your middle.
âI think youâre wearing too many doll clothes.â He stated simply, as if his dick wasnât grounding into your wet cunt.
âW-well, why donât you do something about that, hmm?â You teased, and despite the tone in your voice you could feel your legs shivering.
He leaned over, his weight comforting and exciting, knowing you were at his will. âAre you sure you want this princess? I know what happened last time and I want to make sure you want this because you want me.â His voice was like an aphrodisiac on its own, low and deep, tones humming in your ear, adding to that sensory pleasure that you were feeling despite not actually being touched at all.
You nodded in response, but he tsked. âI need an actual yes babe.â Â
âYes, please. Please Michael.â You all but whined, feeling needy, needing and wanting him more than anything.
âThatâs all Iâve been wanting to hear.â He smiled, like a fox that finally caught the mouse it had been praying on for hours on end. He lifted you up like you weigh nothing, and unzipped your dress with a practiced ease. You slipped out of it, feeling extremely exposed. You were currently in a matching black set, laces and bows specifically picked out, you were his doll after all. Michael let out a low whistling, leaning back so he could see all of you.
âYou look so fucking good, if I could fuck you all day I would.â He grabbed at you again, but you went straight to undressing him, clumsily and angrily trying to unbutton his shirt. He just laughed, chucking them off for you. He looked away, slightly embarrassed, but you just ran your manicured nails over his slightly hairy chest. Getting on your knees, you went to his neck, attacking him with harsh bites and kisses that went lower and lower. The low groans Michael let out were simply divine, hands caressing your hair. Unbuckling his belt, you leaned back on your elbows as he got just as undressed as you were.Â
He turned you over slightly, giving your ass a quick smack before instructing you to sit at the head of the bed. Obediently, you waited for him on your pillows, thighs squirming to fight off the wetness that was quickly growing. He grabbed his pants and took out a small bottle of lube, and you gave him a look.
âDid you plan this?â You asked, arms crossing.
He gave you a look as he set it down by the bed, âI could ask you the same Mrs. matching bra and panties.â Grabbing your laced lined hips, he ran soft touched fingers up and down your thighs. You moaned lightly underneath his hands, needing him to be inside you right then and there.
âRelax, Iâll take care of you, okay?â He muttered, going back up to give you a deep kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, and hesitantly you opened your mouth. His tongue tasted like his steak dinner, and the spicy whisky he had been drinking. There were also hints of his smoking habit, and it all tasted divine. He had unhooked your bra, and his big hands immediately went to roll your nipples between his fingers. You made a sour face, the touch being too much to bear. He looked at you, but you just guided his hands lower, wanting him inside of you, needing to feel him deep, where no one else has gone. He gently slipped your underwear off, throwing it somewhere on the ground. He sucked in a sharp breath at your nakedness, and you felt insecurity rise in your chest.
âAm I ugly?â You whispered, the pale moonlight chilling your overheated body.
âThatâs the stupidest question youâve ever asked, princess. Youâre fucking divine.â His thumb sent a jolt through you, as he ran it through your wet folds. He took a finger and pressed gentle movements to your bud, and it felt absolutely divine. You gasped in response, immediately reaching your hands out to grab his black hair. He pressed a heavy kiss to your mouth, moving quicker than his slow movements on your clit. It felt heavenly, feeling another person rub on you for the first time was heavenly, and it felt ten times more real than when you did in the dead of night. He continued his ministrations, large finger pressing onto all the right spots on your little nub of please. You could tell it was hard for him to hold back, but better to wait than to ruin the moment completely.
He lifted himself out of your heated kiss, slowly pressing a meaty finger inside you. His face was flushed, pupils blown wide as he watched you squirm underneath his touch. It felt good, but it burned slightly as he pushed past the ring of your core, finger flexing up slightly as he went deeper and deeper inside you. It felt both heavenly and slightly awkward, knowing an appendage of such innocence was defiling you. He worked himself in and out of your wet pussy, before working in another finger. His ring and middle finger were stretching you to your limit, but you wanted more, needed more.Â
You felt like a dog in heat, panting and squirming underneath his touch, feeling him opening you up wider and wider as he himself groaned at the sight of you. His strong arms flexing, trying to hold himself for a little longer, chest heaving with the breaths falling from his mouth. His stomach slightly fell over his boxers, hair stomach leading down to the one thing you wanted at this very moment.
âPlease, please.â You begged, knowing that despite foreplay was important, there was something greater you needed.Â
âOkay, so fuckinâ whiny, you know that, doll?â He gruffed, no real bite in his tone. He slowly tugged down his black boxers, member slipping out as he slipped them off. He wasnât terribly large, and he didnât seem terribly big, but, you didnât really have any other data to base his cock on. Still, your eyes widened at the pink member, pre-cum already steadily leaking from him.
âDoâŠyou have a condom?â Still, you were no dummy, and you were not about to be knocked up at your age.
He shook his head, grabbing your legs and hoistening them over his shoulders. The limited amount of effort it took him to just grab you like a ragdoll only added to the excitement.
âGot a vasectomy, sweet girl.â He cooâd, lining himself with your entrance. He was bigger than his fingers, thatâs for sure.Â
This time, the burn was more intense, more languid in its heat, but longer, and greater. As he slipped in inch by inch, you took a sharp breath, unaccustomed to the intrusion.Â
âRelax princess, itâll feel good when you relax.â He cooâd, finger going back to your clit to help soothe the ache. âSo wet I didnât even need the lube, such a good girl for me, arenât you?âÂ
Both your heart and pussy liked his sweet words, sending jolts through the both of them. The oppressive weight you felt in your stomach grew the more he sheathed himself into you, the burn not quite fading, but was overshadowed his thumb on your clit and his husky panting in your ear. His breath fanning over you let you relax, easing him easier into you.Â
When he finally bottomed out, he paused for a second, arms flexing once more. Your hands immediately went to his shoulders, rubbing soothing circles into him. You nodded once, wanting more, wanting to feel this experience to the fullest. Despite his soft beginning, the pace he set was brutal, and the angle he had had you near breathless. His cock was jamming into your soft insides over and over again, pace intense and hard, the feeling of him quickly moving in and out had you arching your back. Your nails left love lines up his back, and he groaned into your touch, his forehead was right beside you, attacking your neck with marks that surely would stay. His words came out in broken sentences, but the words you could gather were all filthy in nature, speaking quiet words of possessions and professions.
Quickly pulling out completely, you looked at him in confusion before you flipped you on your stomach, immediately propping up your hips. He slammed back into you after lining himself back up, the feeling of his balls had you pulling and tugging at your own bedsheets, biting your own forearm to keep yourself from screaming too loud.Â
You lost track of time, not exactly counting down the minutes of your love affair, but Michael let out a low groan before stilling inside you. Looking over your shoulder, he looked so beautiful in the moonlight. Despite your open window, the air was warm and still, not too humid despite the California heat slowly creeping back. Your old man was standing up straight, his head leaning to one side as he stared at you back, stormy eyes looking near black in the dim light. His neck and shoulders were littered with the remnants of the night, lipstick and teeth markings already starting to bloom with popped blood vessels underneath. A slight sweat clung to his skin, and a new unfamiliar sickly sweet scent filled the room.
âTake a picture, itâll last longer.â He gave your ass a quick slap, before pulling out and flopping down on the bed. He grabbed you, and tucked you in underneath his warm embrace. Usually, he was pleasantly warm, but now he was blazing hot, hotter than heâd ever been. When you took out an arm to escape the heat, your purity ring shone in the light. Feeling unworthy of being the bearer of your fathers gift, you leaned over to your nightstand to grab something youâd been saving for Michael after your trip to his house. A small, gold chain, empty, save for that same ring you were taking off to decorate it with.
âWhat are you doinâ doll? Ainât got to do all that.â He sighed, annoyed already with your dramatics. You shifted your gaze up to him, a small smile on your face. He huffed, looking away, knowing you had already won whatever argument he mightâve had.
âYou never knew what this was?â you teased, pushing the necklace his way. âItâs a purity ring you fool. I figured one day youâd have it, so Iâve been saving it for you.â It glimmered on its spot on his heavy chest, looking so pure and perfect against his body.
âKidâŠâ He lookedâŠwell youâd rather not dissect the look that came over his face.
âI wonât take it back. Itâs yours now, be grateful I got you something not off the discount rack for once.â There was an edge to your voice, but you focused your mind on the beautiful night. There wasnât a cloud in the sky.
âAlright, alright. Thank you princess.â He kissed the top of your head, struggling to put it on in his position. Your chest felt a little lighter when you heard that familiar snap.
Youâve never felt this right, not once in your lonely existence, other than here with him.
ââ±âźâ±â
Itâs been a year with you now, you were now a blooming sophomore at college. Sometimes, Michael would forget you go to such a nice school like USC, but then you would rant about all your new studies and groups you were in and heâd be all the more impressed with you. By the time he was your age, he had already lost all contact with any family he might have, lost his football scholarships and career, and had been in prison twice for his first two failed bank jobs. You, on the other hand, were exceeding in your field, blossoming like a spring flower in school and work. You had found a nicer intern job in your chosen career, and while it meant he didnât see you as often, he did quite like fucking you in your pencil skirts and blouses.Â
You, you wereâŠindescribable to Michael. You were his calm to his storm, you were the untouched rabbit to his mangy wolf, the innocent dove to his aged crow. It felt a little cheesy, but you were something so pure and holy, and he was the tainted felon. He was glad you havenât been disgusted by your age gap. Sometimes, heâd remember you were only a few years older than his own seventeen year old daughter, but god when you smiled at himâŠhe just couldnât help himself. You were so good for him, better than Amanda ever could. He stopped buying prostitutes, he lessened his drinking, and he even stopped smoking as much.Â
He knew Amanda knew about you, Michael knew she hated the fact that he was spending so much of his own money on something that made him so happy, but she couldnât complain when she slept with men in their own marital bed. She couldnât complain when all she did was bitch to him how much of a piece of shit he was. You never did that, even when he was downright cruel to you, you never wavered, never faltered. You truly did love him. And MichaelâŠMichael loved you too. He genuinely held love and affection for you, a feeling he hasnât had in many years.
For a couple months now, heâs had to bride Tracy to not speak to you at all. She figured out why he yelled at her so much for hanging around her college friends, since it wasnât the boys or the drinking, but the fact that he had lied about being married to you. Lied about the true ages of his kids so you wouldnât hate him. Hell, heâd burn down the entire fucking college if it meant he could have you.Â
So, when he saw his own flesh and blood walking up to you, the whole world felt like it was in stop motion. Your ring felt heavy on his chest as he was frozen in place, words surely coming out of Tracy's mouth and into your ears. You had been on your way to him, where he had been standing, waiting for you in the broad daylight. Michael didnât care for appearances anymore, knowing you didnât either. He tried to call out to you, needing your attention to be pulled away from whatever truth bomb his own daughter was surely dropping on you.
As you turned back to him, with a look that can only be described as a mix of absolute horror and disgust, he remembered the vow you had taken so many months ago.
No matter how many missed calls, voicemails he left, no matter how many times he showed up at your apartment, he never saw you again.
Thankfully, you always made sure you didnât work when you had therapy, and that they were always in the afternoon. You loved sleeping in, as a working adult you didnât often get too. Slow mornings were your utmost favorite.
Get up
Get dressed
Take dog out
Eat
Do whatever
Those days were often more rewarding than days filled with activities and do-to lists, at least for you anyway. Though, you were never one to complain when someone else did the planning. Before, Papyrus would always plan outings, right down to what time you ate and how many calories were in your meals. Helpful for him, hellish for you. You never minded that much, not in the grand scheme of things, because it meant you could sightsee or goof off without being stressed about time. You and Sans would always go off, you smiled to yourself as you walked down the street, your breath clouding in front of you, and wreck as much calm chaos as you could in Papyrusâ schedule. He was always on time, and always got pranked.Â
You didnât even realize your eyes stung with tears until you got back home, and warm trails of water were traveling down your face. Letting your little dog go, you decided to forgo breakfast in favor of unhealthy snacks. You didnât shower, but instead anxiously waited around for 1:30 to come by.Â
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âI saw him.â You immediately said as you walked into her office.
Your therapist's office was pretty standard. Fidget toys, soft chairs, books, warm, but not bright, colors and decorations, closed but uncovered window. Dr. Ezer looked over you in shock, her bright eyes staring right into you. She was a middle-aged woman, a bit too young to be your mother, but too old to be a rival classmate who was doing way better than you in life. Perfect.
âOh! Oh dear, how bad is it? Level 10?â She asked, while she kept her composure as she watched you sit, you watched her fumble with her paperwork and uncross her legs.
âNo no, sorry, not him him, but, uhm, one of his cousins. Jefeito.â You clarified, leg bouncing. Her shoulders untensed, and she sat back with a serious look on her face.Â
âJefeito? Who is that again?â
âHe was just one of the guys living in the house, we never really interacted, but when we did it was always kind of aggressive.â You looked down, shame now building in your face. âHeâd call me anâŠ.â Taking a moment, you took a breath and reminded yourself that you were speaking because this was then not now, and not tomorrow. You are breaking down what these experiences did to you, not analyzing threats coming to attack you. These people cannot hurt you anymore. âHeâd call me an easy drug whore, when weâd pass in the hallway.â A strong blush over took your face, the shame too much to hide. Tears spilled over, and snot immediately formed. You grabbed at the tissue box next to you, angrily wiping at your face. Dr. Ezer called out to you, reminding you to be gentle with your heart. Which meant that to be gentle with your heart, you had to first be gentle with what carried it.
âHe never like, he hit me, but it was a shoulder check or like, a shove. Never hard enough to leave a bruise but hard enough to remind me of my âplace.ââ You air quoted, shuffling uncomfortably in your seat. âHis brother was always a little nicer to me, but just seeing him made me sick. He texted me afterward, too. Nothing bad. Or maybe it was bad because it was about him. I donât know I-â You had given her your phone, rambling while she read the words carefully on your phone screen. Her expression was unreadable.
She set your phone down on the little TV tray in front of you and leaned back while looking at you. Usually, when she did that, it meant she had had no real insight for you other than what your immediate course of action was.
âAre you going to respond to him?â She asked, tone questioning.
âIâŠ.I donât know, should I? When he texted me that last part, I felt relieved? Or scared? Iâm not sure, it was like the past three years came rushing at me. Like everything I experienced wasnât just some bad fever dream, like every bad thing was a real memory and every part I canât remember is something Iâm now missing.â You shrugged, you felt so unsure of everything.Â
âWhat do I even say? I donât want to open conversation, but then itâs going to hang over me all day. What if I see him there again? I canât keep running away. I have to keep my job, I mean.â You groaned, falling back into the chair. âI canât just keep running away from them.â You looked back over at her, and you could feel her gaze right into your soul, perceiving and analyzing every little broken inch of you.
âIf you were to respond, you should keep it short and simple. âThat would be appreciated.â or simply liking the message would do. No need to open a conversation or invite him into your world. There is no immediate danger with him, right?â She asked, testingly.Â
You mulled it over, the weight of the world on the tip of your tongue.Â
Jefeito wasnât an immediate danger, he didnât threaten you, like Hero or ruin your life like Sans and Papyrus did. Like he did. Even saying his nickname made you sick, made your stomach churn with fear.
âWell then, why donât we go over lowering our anxiety levels in public?â She grabbed a stress ball for you, and you stared into the empty eyes of a cat.Â
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You rode the public transport back, looking out the window with more text messages open. You still kept in contact with your monster friends, but after everything went down with Sans and Papyrus the first time, you started being flaky. After the second, you almost went ghost. You almost did a lot of things. The only beings you really kept in contact with were Toriel and Frisk. For some reason, they looked up to you and always wanted to hang out with you. Now that they're older, they send you a lot of memes and TikToks. Still, talking was hard. Seeing them was even harder.
Hello dear friend! It is I, Toriel! I am sending you a text in the hopes that you are well. Maybe we should meet up? No worries!
Sincerely, Toriel.
You didnât know how to respond, what you would say, how you would say anything. So you didnât. You couldnât say much of anything these days. You started to walk home with a pit in your stomach, all the emotions in your head and stomach clouding your intuition. Your apartment wasnât that far, but it was far enough for the cold to sting your cheeks and make you shove your hands in your pocket.Â
You didnât notice your dog's lack of barking as you unlocked your door.
Hello everyone! It has...been awhile...I know. But I am back! I won't get too much into details, and I went more into details on my Ao3 post, but to focus on this, this is a rework of my story Bittersweet Days (for those who knew it as Inside Out I genuinely love you have my babies.) This is a story for me, really. I'm not going to worry about word count, or linear story telling. This is going to be a representation of who I was in high school, who I am now, and who I want to be. I want this story to be messy, and intense, and real, but not real, like people try to right where it's all crazy or some shit. Updates will be when they're done, but I am going to try to get very far into my story as I can before I start posting regular updates. Also, I opened up a Ko-Fi, so please read that!
You, yes you, are a deeply complex person. There is so much to you that has been shoved down under, because you have been shown time and time again that you are unlovable. But somewhere, that little kid in you, wants to prove that wrong. You just need help from the undead to help you grow, because even though life has shit on you time and time again, you have HOPE.
The afternoon sun beat down on your exposed skin, feeling the heat warm the deep cold you always used to feel. Slowly waking up with a shiver, you had looked over to him. His sleeping form was the only time you ever saw him truly at rest. At peace.
âhmm?â He grumbled, phalanges twitching, softly itching at his exposed ribcage. He still didnât look at you, and you couldnât tell if he was looking at the ceiling or you.Â
You never really knew if he ever looked at you.Â
âCome on, sleepy head, itâs time to get up!â You softly laughed, knowing you had just woken up a few minutes prior. That was always kind of nice with him, how he always had a slow start, but he never could really settle down for bed. Neither could you though, it made you feel less alone.
As less alone as you could feel with him.
âshhh, give me a sec.â He sighed, waving you away. He turned away, his back now turned to you. You didnât always mind it, since you could see his soul from the spots in his ribs. Stare at the floating comically shaped heart that was his entire being. So fragile, so damaged.Â
Now it just forced you to focus on it so you didnât burst into tears.
Taking a sip of coffee, you cleared away all those icky memories that just seemed to stick. The black goo seeping into your morning routine. It was awful nice out, you even had a couple of windows open, feeling the refreshing breeze flutter through your house. Your movie-esk white curtains moving gently, wind chimes softly singing their song to you. You sighed, looking down at your breakfast which was slowly growing cold. Forcing yourself to take as many bites as you could, you grabbed the rest and fed your little dog as much as you were comfortable with. His little white maw gently taking bites, nibbling around your fingers. Wiping your hands, you pet him and got up, cleaning up the mess as you went along.
You grabbed your purse, pet your dog goodbye, and left for work. The coffee shop that you work at is not too far away, but every minute counts towards your paycheck. You worked two jobs, one at said coffee shop, the other at a local restaurant as a waiter. You got more tips here, but somehow got paid better as a waiter.Â
Your day was boring, as it always was. Clock in, your coworkers donât stare at your eye, you clean and go up to the window, regulars totally donât stare at your eye, some old fuck gasps and ask you about your eye, and you totally donât hold back tears, and say:
âOh no, when the barrier opened, this guy showed up! Doesnât hurt me or nothing!â You smile and wave them off, and they look at you with complete doubt because everyone knows that's not true but they figure you wonât talk about it. You leave to the bathroom where you donât stare at that fucking eye, totally donât cry, and get back to work.
You hate your eye.Â
Itâs all you think about when you waiter, when you're at the coffee shop, when youâre home all alone.Â
You hated it.
Your eye had been scratched out, well more like torn out, with deep black scars that never seem to scar right. Your whole sclera was now black, and you were only left with a little purple pupil. The color of your soul.
Perseverance.
Your eyelashes were growing back, but they would always be a little =shorter than your undamaged lashes. You are partially blind in that eye, though, sometimes you could see numbers over people's heads, and sometimes there were words you couldnât understand or catch before they disappeared. It wasnât like it was black, sometimes there was something, but most of the time, there was nothing. You relied heavily on your right eye, which already had bad vision. So you wore glasses for one working eye. Itâs not like your little glowing purple eye was lazy or lame, it moved in sync with your working right, dilated and got smaller with light, and sometimes changed to your emotions according to friends. You couldnât drive anymore, hot flashes of pain happened too often, with your depth perception and your vision being too fucky too often for your already poor driving to not be a danger. So you took the bus, and if you were going far, like visiting your monster friends, you just asked them for a ride. Or uber. Either way was intensely embarrassing. You needed so much help these days, help that you never needed, never wanted. You were so independent before everything. Not just him, but them. Before her.
Eris.
Thoughts of her never appear unless you were waitering, which you were now. The only other job you managed to find was this dingy bar, the pay was decent, and the hours were extremely flexible, which was nice. But you were always scared one of the ghosts from your past would appear.
Like now.
âân get this! the whore comes in, whininâ ân boo hooinâ to the whole fucknâ house sayinâ,â His voice gets insanely high pitched, ââPlease! Swear I didnât do it! It was yer cousinsâ fault! He got on my phone, and started texting all these guys and girls! I promise it wasnâ me!â He guffaws, and the men around him burst out laughing in disbelief.
âNo way that whore really said that! My god, that is unbelievable!â A random man asked, nearly falling off his bar stool.Â
Your blood ran cold, snapping you out of your deep thoughts. You felt the sticky slime that was in your brain seep down to the bottom parts of your queasy stomach. Your breath came in short breaths as you forced yourself to turn around, to look, to see.Â
His bright gold fang glimmered in the gold light in the bar, red eyebags glowing for everyone to see.Â
You dropped the giant plate of cups you were holding, the sound echoing and stopping the whole bar.Â
You ran out before everyone could really see you making the commotion.Â
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hey.
saw u @ the bar
You kept staring at those messages, the images on the screen preventing you from sleep. Your boss had let you go home early, and you couldnât rest. You paced, you went out for a run in the dead of night, you took a shower, tried to read, tried to watch a movie. Nothing stopped the anxiety and sickness from rising in your throat. You even tried throwing up, to dispel the emotions all in one go.Â
Youâve never been one to just let go, so you couldnât even do that. Youâve left him on read for four hours now, your bedside clock reading twelve. What could you say to that? Did he actually see you? Or did he see the shattered glass on the floor, and through whispers figure out it was you who made the mess? Did he actually care? Was he just playing some sick trick on you?
hey, fucking idiot, saw you at the dirty bar i drink at. fucking loser.
Thatâs probably what he meant to type, but he was just too drunk to actually type it out right.
You saw a new message pop up, and your heart picked up faster than a woodpecker before winter.Â
wont tell promise
You turned your phone off and stared at the plain wall in front of you. You blinked back tears, heavy breaths coming out short and quick. You heaved a sob before you realized just how exhausted you were, feeling the tiredness deep in your bones, your soul.
How lucky you were to have your therapy appointment tomorrow.Â