Cross fandom garage @aliveinacoffin - Tumblr Blog

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.

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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.

Every day followed that same schedule, not always to a T, but the same withstanding. You went to school at USC, and since you didn’t need to declare your major yet (freshman-ess and all,) you haven’t 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. It’s been nice, a lot warmer than the PNW, that’s for sure, a lot more people, LOT’S 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 ‘Oh no, Daddy’s paying for my first year of college,’ and ‘Oh you’re here for free? That must be so nice! My parents are making me work to help chip in for tuition, ugh!’

You weren’t here for free free, that’s for sure. But with the situation you were in, getting scholarships and applying for federal aid wasn’t that hard.

“Hello? Is anybody home?” A gruff voice snapped you out of your deep thoughts.

“Oh, I’m so sorry! I-I was just..distracted, how can I help you?” 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 o’clock 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.

“What were you thinkin’ about, bags or somethin’?” He jested, part teasing, part old man thinking.

“No.” You rolled your eyes, preparing his cold brew with no flavorings and light ice. “I was actually thinking about college. How is your day going, Michael?” 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.

“Ehh, it’s going alright, kid.” He said, scratching his face and avoiding eye contact.

“If it's going alright, then why are you being so weird?” You asked, ponytail going to the side along with your head. “You aren’t usually so quiet.” You put his drink in front of him as you rang up the till.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve already got college to worry about, right? Focus on that.” 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.

“Here! Take this, please… whatever's on your mind, just…I don't know.” 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. “Take this before I melt into the ground out of embarrassment.” 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.

“Wow.” One of your coworkers said, staring at you as she held a half-made drink.

“Shut up!” You huffed, quickly disappearing into the bathroom.

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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 didn’t really like. The people you liked had a happy tone, those you didn’t got a monotone computer ding, but nobody had the automated ding.

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.

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.

“Angie, you awake?” 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.

“Jesus!” She groaned your name in exasperation, “I didn’t know you were standing there!” 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 didn’t belong. Playing with the rich kids, trying to play catch-up, as your mother used to say.

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.

“The guy texted me, and I don’t know what to say.” You stated, blush over coming you as you handed her your phone. The light green screen reflected on her confused face.

“Ugh, I haven’t used one of these in forever.” 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 wasn’t Angie's fault; she earnestly hasn’t 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 it’s because you two are roommates, but a smaller, more wistful part of you hopes that she really could’ve been your friend no matter what.

“Who is this?” 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.

“The….” You snapped out of it. “The guy from the coffee shop! He comes in like, basically every day.” 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.

“The old guy? The one who literally is always wearing a suit?” She asked, phone tilting forward in her manicured hands.

“He's not old! He's older, and yes, he looks cute.” 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. “I gave him my number because he looked sad, and what better reason than when someone is upset?” 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 Angie’s head, as she started clicking away on the numeric keypad, the muscle memories of her past came back to her.

“Here, because a text at like,” She blinked hard, turning over her own iFruit, “twelve am can only mean one thing, girl.” 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, what’s 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.

Ding.

You raced to your phone, eyes wide as you stared at the screen.

Yes, who else could this be?

Your fingers quickly typed back.

Ah, I’m sorry! I just wanted to make sure!! Didn’t want to be freaking out over a wrong number ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)⁭ ⁭

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.

You’re funny kid.

You waited a few minutes for Michael to respond, since he didn’t seem to have the same habits as you. You awkwardly texted him back.

Sooo…what are you up to? (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

You wanted to die.

What do you think I’m up to?

Texting me…? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Well, yes.

What’s up with the little faces?

They’re kaomojis! You’ve never heard of them? °▱°

Kamojs? No I have not.

You’re so old! Teehee (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

They’re like little faces on your phone. Ancient emojis

The hell are emojis.

Omg you ARE ancient ( ˶°ㅁ°)

They’re just another way to convey emotions. I like them because they’re cute. Like, look at this one! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

LOL, that is cute. What are you doing?

“I’m going to bed, don’t have phone sex in the room.” Angie's voice broke you out of your trance, blushing face snapping towards her as you watched her tuck in.

“I wouldn’t!” 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 wasn’t small talk. Well, this was small talk, but it wasn’t ‘oh the weather’s nice’ small talk. More like, ‘oh hey! I want to get to know you!’ Talk. You resumed your lip nibbling as you typed out a response.

Texting you silly! What else would I be doing? (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

Homework. You’re in college, right? I’m 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, I’m taking a break. Talking to you is worth more than homework. (っ- ‸ - ς)

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 didn’t fully understand what he meant, and you were hoping he didn’t 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 you’d hope would die out. You shook your head of the thoughts, maybe he didn’t 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 won’t have access in, it’s late.

USC? Like as in University of Southern California?????

I told you, I’m in college :p

I’m 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.

You couldn’t 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 “Jesus.” fluttered out of his mouth. Your stomach twisted into more knots.

“Hey! I didn’t know if you were some psycho murderer! I was just checking.” 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.

“You still don’t.” 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.

“I’m fucking with you, calm down.” 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.

“I knew that,” you sassed.

“Sure you did, kid, sure.” 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.

“I did! I could sense it off of you, like Spider-Man.” 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.

“The superhero? I’m not sure you’ve got the chops to be a superhero, you get startled by windows rolling down.” He looked at you as he took a right, one eyebrow raised.

“Ah! Says you!” You exclaimed in mock hurt.

“And what is that supposed to mean?” He all but growled, eyes now squinted in a testing manner.

“You….are wearing a suit at one in the morning.” You smiled and crossed your arms, pretending like you had a ‘gotcha’ moment. He made a dumbfounded face, laughing at your absurdity. “It’s true! I know you wear a suit every day, but it's one in the morning, Michael! I’m wearing sweats and flip-flops!” Now it was your turn to laugh, lightly teasing him.

“Hey! Can you judge a man for wanting to impress the ladies? Plus, don’t think I don’t notice the gloss on your lips.”

You blushed, a guilty smile forming on your face.

“That’s different from a suit, good sir. I’m sure that has to be uncomfortable.” 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. “I’ve always loved the stars, it sucks you can’t see them out here. That’s one of the biggest things I miss about home.” You sighed, a pang shooting through your heart.

“You come from the country? Or higher up in the mountains.” 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. “Farther, I’m from Cle Elum.” You smiled, waiting to see his reaction.

“Where the hell is that?” He asked, looking at you with a slight bewilderment.

“Washington, silly! It’s a small town about an hour from Seattle, Washington. I graduated with about 150 students.”

“And how did you end up here?” Michael asked, real astonishment in his voice.

“It was my father’s dying wish for me to attend San Diego State University before he passed. USC gave me a better scholarship, so I’m going there for my bachelor's, and then I’m attending SDSU for my master's and PhD.” You hummed, cars zooming by without a care. “When he died, he made for a pretty damn good scholarship essay.” There was a beat of silence, and you dared not look at Michael's face.

“I’m sorry, kid.”

“I’m not a kid, and if I am, then this is a pretty weird situation.” You snapped back. There was another moment of silence, only broken by you.

“I’m sorry.” The words slipped out of your mouth in a whisper, shame swallowing you whole as you messed with the stitching of your sweatpants.

“No sweat,” Michael grunted.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to snap, I’m so sorry I just…I don’t know, I’m sorry.” You quickly wiped the tears forming in your eyes, willing them to stop.

“Hey, hey, it’s fine. Don’t start with the waterworks, alright?” Panic was apparent in his voice, and it made you laugh. You watched his confused face, but he said nothing further.

“What about you? Are you from here or somewhere far, far away?” 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,

“I’m from Michigan. I never knew what happened to my old man, and really, I don’t care.” You could tell that the words lay heavy on his heart.

“Why?” You pried, voice soft.

“He had a heavy hand, ‘n when I was young, he skipped town and I never saw him again.” His grip on the steering wheel grew tight, and he stopped a little harder than necessary at the next stoplight.

“My father was in and out of my life. He was deep into his life as a gangster, and it’s not easy getting out of that life, believe it or not.” You laughed, and Michael laughed a little too roughly to be unnoticed. “He 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 couldn’t just leave.” You hummed, trying to find common ground.

“Yeah? My mother always shit talked my father, and when I landed in jail for the first time, she left my sorry ass too.” Michael sighed, turning down the radio as memories flashed in his eyes.

“Mine too, except the leaving part. Wait,” you shook the tired out of your eyes. “You went to jail?” You asked, flabbergasted. Michael looked back at you, just as surprised as you. You suppose he didn’t mean to say that part.

“Uh, yeah, for a failed robbery.” He scratched his head with one hand, driving up a hill with another. You giggled, somehow in your delirious mind, that was hilarious.

“Why are you laughing!?” 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.

“I just can’t see you robbing a bank, and it’s funny to imagine you failing. I’m gonna live the rest of my life pretending the job failed because your pants fell down.” You giggled, folding your arms across your stomach.

“I did not!” He shook his head and blinked. “My mother died sometime in the 2000s. So I’ve got no relatives that I know of, alive.” He looked over the hill, not making eye contact.

“My momma's still kickin’, but we don’t talk. I’ve got younger and older siblings, but I was my father's only. That I know of.” You shrugged.

“How did your old man die?” 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.

“Shoot out, here in L.S. He was up against a rival gang and just…couldn’t get out in time. I miss him more knowing he’s never coming back.”

There was a long stretch of silence, only broken by the shift of music and distant yells.

“I get that.” Michaels's voice was almost a whisper.

“Michael.” Your voice was light, your tone questioning. He answered your name back.

“Did you bring me out here hoping we’d have sex?” 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.

“Nah.” 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.

“Good, because I like you, and I’d like to get to know you as a person, not as some….fuck buddy.” 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. “Why are you laughing! Stop it!” You hit his arm, and he pulled away while still laughing.

“I’m sorry kid, it’s just…fuck buddy? Seriously?” He laughed again, and you hit him again.

God, you hated this man.

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For the next couple of weeks, you would meet up every other night for a drive. Sometimes you talked all night, and others, you’d 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 wasn’t as if you weren’t 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.

“Hey, are you listening?”

You blinked, turning your head back to Angie. Her perfect face was turned into one of annoyance, hands waving in front of your face.

“S-sorry, I zoned out!” you blushed, trying to grab all your thoughts and throw them away in favor of focusing on her and your coffee date.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” 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.

“No, I’m sorry, I’ve been kinda spacey lately…” 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.

“You know, you should ask to hang out with him during the day. Not just the night. It's weird, even if you two aren’t having sex while you're hanging out.” 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.

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.

“Before you start getting all weird quiet again, I was just saying…” She sighed, shoulder slumping as she looked at you again. “I have some friends who…have been asking to invite you to a party they’re gonna have.” She chewed the inside of her teeth. “I never go, because my dad says anything wrong that happens could be a stain on my record, but they..” She loses her words before straightening out again. “They’re not great girls. They’re all the silver spoon bitches you hate, so if a random group of girls come up to you, just ignore them, alright? They don’t have good intentions.” 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 weren’t in any clubs, you’ve become a recluse. Your social life was completely dead, so you’d notice if a group of girls started whispering about you.

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“Why don’t we ever hang out during the day?” 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.

“I’m a night owl doll, what can I say?” Michael shrugged, suit creasing with his movement. Every time with that suit.

“But you have to have a job, right? There’s no way you’re not dead in the morning.” 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. You’d soon be in his.

“I’m retired sweetheart, I have all the time in the world.” 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.

“You just have to admit, it's a bit strange.” 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 would’ve stuttered out an apology as you ran to get out of the way, but with him, it didn’t matter. He was your forcefield, your protector of the world.

“I get really bad nightmares doll,” He put a hand in the small of your back, leading you through the crowd of people. Your feet mindlessly followed his direction. “Blood on my hands that I never should’ve taken. News clippings of missing people.” 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, you’d see heavy rainfall and the leftovers of a hurricane in his mind. A past filled with so much pain you could never imagine. “The 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.” 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 couldn’t be bothered to pay respects to the piece.

You didn’t want to ask him what, and you knew you’d be answered with a non-answer, so you decided to fall into another silence.

.

..

...

“I’m not hanging out again unless it's during the day. A coffee date is fine, but…I can’t do this anymore, it’s hell on my sleep schedule.” 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.

“It’s a date kid.” 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.

Oh Polaris, guide me in my time here on Earth.

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“Oh girl, this is…” 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 mind…it seemed like nothing else mattered. College wasn’t 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 they’d give you free drinks (hopefully.)

“What?” You asked, but you’d really hope she wouldn’t 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.

“I just…I’ve been hearing some stuff about this Mr. Perfect, and…I’m worried about you girl.” She admitted, crossing her perfectly tanned legs. Her eyebrows were pinched, and her glossy lips tight.

“Like what? Because I’m certain he’s not a crazy murder rapist axe murderer. I would know.” You tried to laugh off, but your cantor was too off for it to be a joke.

“No, that he’s married. With kids our age.” She shook her head, looking at you.

Married? No, you’d know if he was married. The telltale mark of a ring on his finger would be a dead giveaway. Someone would’ve answered his phone when you texted during the late hours of the night, someone would’ve answered for you when you two called, someone would’ve called him when he left during the wee hours of the night. You would have known.

“That’s not possible.” You answered resolutely, because it simply wasn’t. You turned back to finish putting on your mascara, mouth opening a little as your head swam.

It wasn’t possible. You were grossly awkward, weird, but you were not stupid. You got into University of Southern California for god’s 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.

There’s no way he would’ve been able to sneak out without making a noise. Michael was not one for subtlety, plus he was retired, so there was no ‘picking up another shift, babe.’ or ‘Boss made me stay late, don’t stress.’ 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 ‘casual’ date outfit. Turning to her, you gave her a look, eyebrows pinched and chin tensed as your lower lip pouted out ever so slightly.

“I’ll ask him myself.” 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.

“Kid, don’t sweat it.” 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 wasn’t all that scary. Taking a sip of your own drink, you sighed, looking out the window at passersby.

“Do you ever wonder about the lives all these people have had? I mean, just recently we hit seven billion people.” You turned back to Michael, sitting straight up with wonder in your eyes. “Can you imagine that? There’s seven billion stories to be told, that's fourteen billion eyes give or take, seven billion hearts just pumping blood on this Earth.” 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.

“What!” You asked, offended.

“You’re so young. So full of these…” He waved his head over his head, as if swatting a fly, “big ideas.” He smiled, shaking his head. You rolled your own eyes, kicking him in the shin, not hard enough to actually hurt, of course.

“And you're so old, have you ever thought about that?” Crossing your arms, you slouched over, truly feeling a little hurt that he found your thoughts childish.

“Oh, c'mon, kid, don’t be like that.” He sighed, leaning back.

“It’s just a thought, it’s not like I’m…”

Stupid. You weren’t stupid. Shame filled you like hot water, something fast that clouded your sight.

“Kid, I didn’t-”

“And stop calling me kid. I’m not. A kid, I mean, I’m not a kid.” You sat up once more, staring at your plastic coffee cup as if it were the one to offend you.

“Well, you're not an adult.” Michael scoffed, surprise filling his voice.

“So that makes this pretty weird for you, then, huh?” You snapped back, anger shaking your hand like an old friend. You could feel your voice rising, eyes flicking your way.

“What’s got your panties in a twist today? What, are you on your period?” Michael's eyes were alight with anger and disgust, and you could see him tensing to boot right out of the shop.

“What’s got my panties all twisted” You snarked back, disgusted with him. “Is that you might be married.” 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 didn’t 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. “Wait, just…let’s just sit and talk, alright?” 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.

“I’m not married, I…used 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; they’re both in high school so they have to hang out with college kids to get alcohol.” 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.

Michael gave you a funny look. You stifled your laughter, mumbling apologies as you shook your hands, trying to reassure him.

“I’m so sorry, I’m really sorry about your divorce, but it’s hilarious that your kids being delinquents who hang out with the older kids makes me feel better.” 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.

“But…if you are lying, Michael…I don’t think I could ever forgive you.” You admitted, eyebrows pained as you smiled weakly at him. “I mean, if I found out you really do have a wife, I don’t think you’d ever see me again.” You laughed humorlessly, and he said nothing in response.

It was an awkward statement after all.

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“My friend…she told me that stuff y’know. I’m sorry for the way I reacted, I think during that conversation, I was really in my head.” You sniffled, looking through white dresses in the overpriced store mall. The fabric was coarse between your fingers, unfamiliar and rough.

“Don’t stress it, doll.” 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.

“Yeah but I was weird, and gross. I just felt so much, and I guess you had to be the punching bag.” 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 didn’t.

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.

“I-I’m so sorry Michael, I really am.” 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.

“Really k-sweetheart, don’t worry about it. The past is in the past.” He coo’d, 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.

“I thought this would be cute…but, it's your choice.” 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 weren’t making active conversation. Those hard lines and heavy burdens would return, but with you…they 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 he’d 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 didn’t, answered your calls when your father didn’t, he gave you that human connection that no one on this damned Earth did.

Angeline was your only friend, but you two hadn’t talked much since you had defended him to her. You two had an argument and hadn’t talked much, your dorm room no longer a safe place. He was the only thing you had now, and you’d 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.

“You look adorable doll.” 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. “I’ll buy it for you if you don’t want to buy it.” 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.

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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.

“Excuse me.” 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. “Hello! I know you.” 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.

“Well, I-I don’t so…Goodbye, I must go!” 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 didn’t 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.

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“You let me take care of you all the time, how is this any different?” 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.

“Because this is so different! Renting out an apartment for me is crazy Michael.” 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.

“It really isn’t that expensive doll.” 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 wasn’t that much to him.

“It really is though, and anyway, what about saving your money? You’re still young for an old guy, and you don’t work.” You countered, because even though to him an apartment wasn’t much, doesn’t mean they weren’t 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 it’s been a minute since anything like that happened. His luxury car, nice clothes and assuming a nice house wouldn’t be cheap, especially not in a city like Los Santos.

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 don’t 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 haven’t 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 couldn’t 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 didn’t answer right away, he’d call you the second he could. You couldn’t ask for more, and yet…

Taking a sip of your drink did nothing to quell the bubble of nausea growing in your stomach.

“You kids go to school…right?” You asked, unsure of even yourself as you asked.

“Yeah?” 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.

“Well, why don’t we go back to your place?” 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.

Michael stopped walking along the concrete path, people simply walking around you two as if you were nothing more than a light post.

“A-are you sure?” He asked, slightly bewildered, his grip on you tightened, and woefully, you could feel his excitement.

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.

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 hadn’t 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.

“Come on.” 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.

His room was surprisingly tidy for a man like him. You’d expect it to be messier than this, thinking he was upstairs just shoving shit under his bed. But it wasn’t, 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 couldn’t 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.

“Kid…” He shook his head, adjusting his shirt. “If you didn’t want this, then-”

“I-I do, I swear I do, I just…” Your heart was pounding, and you wasted no time shooting up and crawling over to him. “I haven’t…like…uh, you know.” 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.

“I’m sorry, I really wanted to.” You sniffled, sitting back as you tried to wipe your tears without letting go of your hand.

“I…” He sighed before trailing off, he ran his hands over your arms, squeezing and touching your skin whenever he could. “Why did you ask to come over then? Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, trying to mask his mounting anger. You knew he wasn’t mad at you, just frustrated. At least, you hoped so.

“I’ve never been to your house.” You choked out, tears falling even faster. “And-” 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.

“Come here.” 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 you’d 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.

“I just wanted to see your house, I wanted to see more intimate parts of your life. Even if that meant…” You muttered, nestling closer to his warm body. You honestly didn’t 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.

“Doll, you know with the kids and everything, you can’t just be over.” He sighed into your hair, despite you being here now after promising sex.

“I know, that’s why I lied. I’m sorry.” You whispered, feeling tears all over again. You heard him sigh once more, brushing kindly at your cheek. Michael was kind, but he wasn’t very patient.

“I’ll go…” You jerked away, grabbing your bedazzled phone.

“No, kid, wait.” He grabbed the back of your shirt, sliding out of bed. “This 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 that’s just not possible here. Don’t be difficult, okay?” 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. “Okay.” You nodded your head, because despite the fact that you didn’t want to be that indebted to Michael, you did love him, and wanted what you could have of him.

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There were a lot of kids in college who said they lived on campus but didn’t, 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 didn’t have to meet Angeline’s cold gaze. You hated the fact that she was still mad at you, hated that she couldn’t just be happy that you had actually found someone here. You knew she didn’t like his age, but you were all adults now! It hardly mattered when you were legally able to make your own decisions.

The added bonus of being off of campus was the fact that you didn’t have to see those girls as often. You didn’t know their intentions, but you knew they went somewhere else by the fact that you’ve 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 didn’t have a car, so you’d catch their glares every now and then, but your new apartment wasn’t all that faraway from school.

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 didn’t work very much, not with Michael around, so you didn’t 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 weren’t failing, getting C’s 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 didn’t really feel like winter though, by now, you’d 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.

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 ‘horny’ face, as you’ve 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.

“What's up.” You whispered, a small smile on your face. Michael chuckled, pulling you to sit on his lap, your legs around his.

“You’re cute, you know that.” 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 yet…

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. “Seriously, what's up with the surprise visit! I’m not getting evicted, am I?” 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.

“Can’t I pay a visit to my pretty girl? I miss ya is all.” 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. “Sitting like that is horrible for your back.” 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.

“You just seem so tense Miky, I hate seeing you so uncomfortable.” You teased, pressing your fingers into the fat of his back. “You have such a strong and wide back.” You hadn’t 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.

“I used to play football when I was in high school. After my mom left, it was the only thing I had.” 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.

“Did you like it?” You asked gently, knowing he didn’t mention his mother very much.

“Like it? I loved it! I got put in the newspaper a couple times. I wanted to go pro but,” 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. “Damn injuries held me back. I was better suited for stealing.”

Hearing about his criminal past was rarer, something you could tell he was always on the edge of bragging about, despite his moody temper.

“Really? You seem so strong! Even now in your old age you seem pretty fit.” 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.

“Are you makin’ fun of me doll?” He asked, that anger back into his tone. You looked up with him, a little hurt that he would even consider that.

“No, I was being serious. You’re strong, you lift like it's nothing, and I am not petite.” You hurriedly explained, not wanting to add to his anger. He gave you a look before he slumped his shoulders again.

“What’s wrong Michael?” You asked, rubbing his neck, trying to pressure him to just look at you.

“I found out my ex-wife cheated on me, when we were still together. And she slept with him in our bed!” 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.

“I’m sorry Michael, that must be a horrible feeling to have. I can’t imagine the betrayal, someone you loved so dearly betraying you in your own bed.” You shook your head, hands awkwardly playing with each other. He just sighed, and patted your knee.

“It’s alright, I’m just in a sour mood.” He sighed, rubbing his head.

“Doo, you wanna kiss then?” You offered, shrugging. You’d 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.

The man just laughed, grabbing and pulling you back into his warm embrace before catching you in a heated kiss. Even if you weren’t an official item, you knew you were his and he was yours.

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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 haven’t 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 you’ve met, Michael still took time out of his day to come over and hang out with you.

He’s 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 couldn’t 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 ‘constant complaining’ about how lonely you were. Sometimes, especially the longer you’ve 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.

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 would’ve 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 didn’t 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.

I’m ready, my old man!! (˶' ꒳ '˶)

I’m 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.

“You’re going to get me all riled up before we even get there doll.” 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.

“You look beautiful, doll. Makes me wonder what you’re doing with an old fart like me.” He grunted, turning the random country music he had playing up a little. His hands tapped lightly to the lyrics, not the beat.

“I like you, you old fart.” You giggled slightly, before snapping the visor back up. You put a hand on his thigh, slightly massaging the tense appendage. “Plus, you’re really not that old Michael, you’ve just now lived through half your life. You’ve still got quite a bit of time before you kick the bucket.” 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.

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 didn’t 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.

“Michael.” 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. “Do you think I’ve become spoiled?” You asked, picking at your newly done nails. You hadn’t 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 couldn’t 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. “I know it sounds silly, but when you brought me in here, I wasn’t as excited as I was the first time, I’m just, content. Is that bad?” 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.

“All women get used to the princess treatment doll, it’s about time you stopped looking at me like I handed you the fucking world.” 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, he’d only ever been kind to you, sweet on you. Your mouth opened slightly, trying to swallow that familiar lump away.

“I-well, I thought you liked that about me. And I just, I…I don’t know, forget I said anything. I’m grateful for you Michael, everything you’ve given me, I’m sorry if I made it seem otherwise with what I said.” 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.

“Shit, I don’t know, doll, I just.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face roughly. He reached out, and grabbed your hand, stopping your insentient picking on your poor fingers. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been so stressed out with my wife. She’s been on my ass about the kids, and my job, despite the fact that I’m fuckin’ retired.” He admitted, calloused fingers helping soften your now soured mood.

“Your ex-wife? Why does she care about your job?” 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.

“Yeah, 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.” He pulled away when the server asked what would be for dinner, and Michael answered as you turned your head away so he wouldn’t see your watery eyes and think ill of Michael.

“I’m sorry I’m not much comfort Michael. I wish I could understand your heartbreak.” 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.

“You bein’ worried that your spoiled is enough comfort for me princess. I didn’t mean to be so nasty, I’m sorry.” 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 wasn’t 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 he’s 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.

“So…you come here often?” 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 weren’t afraid, you weren’t scared of him.

He gave you a look of mild disappointment, before shaking his head and slowly walking you towards the bed. “Yes, yes I do.” 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.

“I think you’re wearing too many doll clothes.” He stated simply, as if his dick wasn’t grounding into your wet cunt.

“W-well, why don’t you do something about that, hmm?” 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. “Are 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.” 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. “I need an actual yes babe.”

“Yes, please. Please Michael.” You all but whined, feeling needy, needing and wanting him more than anything.

“That’s all I’ve been wanting to hear.” 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.

“You look so fucking good, if I could fuck you all day I would.” 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.

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.

“Did you plan this?” You asked, arms crossing.

He gave you a look as he set it down by the bed, “I could ask you the same Mrs. matching bra and panties.” 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.

“Relax, I’ll take care of you, okay?” 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.

“Am I ugly?” You whispered, the pale moonlight chilling your overheated body.

“That’s the stupidest question you’ve ever asked, princess. You’re fucking divine.” 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.

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.

“Please, please.” You begged, knowing that despite foreplay was important, there was something greater you needed.

“Okay, so fuckin’ whiny, you know that, doll?” He gruffed, no real bite in his tone. He slowly tugged down his black boxers, member slipping out as he slipped them off. He wasn’t terribly large, and he didn’t seem terribly big, but, you didn’t 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.

“Do…you have a condom?” 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.

“Got a vasectomy, sweet girl.” He coo’d, lining himself with your entrance. He was bigger than his fingers, that’s for sure.

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.

“Relax princess, it’ll feel good when you relax.” He coo’d, finger going back to your clit to help soothe the ache. “So wet I didn’t even need the lube, such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

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.

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.

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.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” 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 he’d 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 you’d 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.

“What are you doin’ doll? Ain’t got to do all that.” 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 might’ve had.

“You never knew what this was?” you teased, pushing the necklace his way. “It’s a purity ring you fool. I figured one day you’d have it, so I’ve been saving it for you.” It glimmered on its spot on his heavy chest, looking so pure and perfect against his body.

“Kid…” He looked…well you’d rather not dissect the look that came over his face.

“I won’t take it back. It’s yours now, be grateful I got you something not off the discount rack for once.” There was an edge to your voice, but you focused your mind on the beautiful night. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

“Alright, alright. Thank you princess.” 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.

You’ve never felt this right, not once in your lonely existence, other than here with him.

⋆♱✮♱⋆

It’s 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 he’d 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 didn’t see you as often, he did quite like fucking you in your pencil skirts and blouses.

You, you were…indescribable 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 haven’t been disgusted by your age gap. Sometimes, he’d remember you were only a few years older than his own seventeen year old daughter, but god when you smiled at him…he just couldn’t 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.

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 couldn’t complain when she slept with men in their own marital bed. She couldn’t 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 Michael…Michael loved you too. He genuinely held love and affection for you, a feeling he hasn’t had in many years.

For a couple months now, he’s 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 wasn’t 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 wouldn’t hate him. Hell, he’d burn down the entire fucking college if it meant he could have you.

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 didn’t care for appearances anymore, knowing you didn’t 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.

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Additional notes on my Ao3!!

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