Demons x Malum

twenty one •

double update bc short af

monday, february 23, 2015

twenty one •

hormones; a regulatory substance produced in an organism and transported in tissue fluids such as blood or sap to stimulate specific cells or tissues into action.

a complicated definition for complicated emotions that happen to be kicking my asś.

last night the only thing I was able to think about was michael, and not in the sweet adorable kitten innocence I always look upon him with. for the second night in a row, I wanked – the only difference being of a conscious mind set. I thought of him putting on a show for me in his pretty pink panties, prancing around the room, before giving me the opportunity to fill him.

class with michael was absolutely, excruciatingly painful today. everytime I looked at him I felt a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, quickly reminding myself of my nights actions – plus michael's asś in the leggings he was wearing didn't at all help my situation.

my phone vibrates on my chest, my attention falling from my bedroom tv to the smaller screen in front of me.

mom: dad and I won't be home tonight. don't do anything stupid. love you.

i sigh, knowing the clock has already passed six pm and if mali isn't home – she won't be back.

an instagram notification telling me that michael tagged me in a photo catches my attention. I open the app I rarely ever use, and look upon the picture michael posted. michael stands with his hand on my chest in the adorable red sweater dress from our special valentines day. my eyes are locked on the grinning boy dangling on my arm, a silly smile plastered on my lips as well. the caption making my heart thump in my chest; all mine.

I indeed am michael's, from the day he stepped into that goddamned computer lab, I was his. I leave a simple your stunning, babe with two heart eye emoji, because honestly, that's what michael does to me.

with a click of the button I open few DM's from random chicks that think I'm cute, thinking there cuter by messages me stupid hey's and blushing emojis.

I decide to send my own messages as a joke, netflix&chill at my house (;

seconds later I get a reply, I'm coming.

I chuckle sending my next message, that's not the only thing you'll be doing tonight (-;

and I can only picture michael's blush on his adorable kitten face when he reads the message.

+++

michael looks up to me, eyes wide, and bottom lip quivering at his attempt to puppy face me into letting him watch gossip girl. I continue to taunt him, chuckling at his attempt to grab the remote from my hand – I don't really care what's playing on the tv, I only watch michael's expressions, and how he reacts to certain things.

"calum!" he whines, our chest touching as his shorter arm struggles to receive the remote from my grip. I chuckle once more, my hand dropping the remote, and flipping us in one swift motion. I hover above him, smirking when his breath catches, and his eyes widen.

"you weren't kidding when you said netflix and chill, were you?" I don't answer his question, only attach his lips to my own. sensational, and absolutely breath taking – in more ways then one. kissing michael's plump red lips, and tasting the strawberry accent there may have been like making out with an angel.

he giggles into my lips, a smile spreading across my own as I relish in the feeling of michael's attention. he has always been the boy that caught me staring, the boy that always looked better then every girl in school, the boy I hopelessly fell for after winter break. I never expected to have him underneath me two months later.

his hips grind against my own, begging for more contact between the two of us. I oblige to the thought, my body igniting with excitement as I think of having the privilege to touch the beautifully untouched innocent skin of michael clifford.

I trail wet kisses to his neck, sucking and biting, creating red blotches on his skin, but not bruises – no need to put stress of covering up such marks on the boy. his small fingers reach the hem of my shirt, tugging the material up and over my head. our tongues dig into each other's mouths, enjoying the feeling of each other.

my fingers tug his sweater up and over his head, my eyes scanning over the small pudge of his stomach, and mentally awing at the sight.

"go ahead, let it out," michael whines, detangling his body from mine and scurrying out from underneath me. "call me fat, chunky, thick – whatever. I've heard it all."

"what the hell are you talking about?" I stand, walking over the stationary boy who struggles to put his sweater back on.

"everybody who sees my stomach always has something negative to say – or think!" michael explains, his mood dampening my own, but I don't get discouraged.

"baby," I coo, my hands trailing his arms, and lightly tugging the rest of the sweater off. his hands fly to his stomach, covering the flush skin there, only to be removed with tender care and love. "you know what I have to say about your stomach?"

michael hums, rather eyeing his pink socks, instead me.

"hey, look at me," I command, tilting his chin up toward my face, making his stunning green eyes visible under the dim light. "I think your stomach is absolutely beautiful, just like the rest of you."

michael scoffs, "says the one who has fücking abs of steal. your gorgeous, calum, no wonder every freakin girl wants you." michael turns on his heel, and stalks over to the bed, shoulders slumped in every form of dejection.

I internally groan, following the boy, and dramatically pinning him against the bed. he gasps, eyes widen as they meet my own.

"you listen michael gordon clifford, and you listen closely," I say sternly, gathering up enough courage to spill the words my heart has kept hidden for so long. "I don't give a shït if whitney wants me back, or one of her dumb blonde friends want me, because you know who I want?"

michael shakes his head.

"I want you, mikey. I want you and all of your cringe-worthy jokes, breathtaking style that is better then all the girls at school, and your awe-inspiring personality that has my heart blooming. everyday I get to know more about you, and I still can't seem to get enough. that day mrs. fink moved my seat away from luke, I was vivid, then I realized I was moved beside you – my crush I've liked since the begging of the new year – and I just blanked. I knew I wasn't good enough for you, hell, I'm still not, and never will be. you are an angel, and for some reason you found a way to enjoy my retarded, dirty minded, hormonal self, and for that, I am more then grateful." I finished, reaching and wiping away the small tear peaking from the corner of michael's eyes. I knew why the boy was crying, knowing the feeling of insecurities killing the best of us, all to well.

I leaned down, kissing the corners of his eyes, dabbing away the tears, and kissing the boy with everything I have.

because that was exactly, he is everything have.

+++
this was totally supposed to be a smut chapter but then this happened, and I kind of fell in love.
I hope you liked it as much as I do.
anywhore, much more malum to come, *means that in both ways*
love you all - meagan