#YOUR ART IS ALWAYS SO NICE AND SMOOTH

[themintman]

HOLY SHIT

@themintman's zombie Nurm again!

[carnalcrows]

LOLLIPOP - CHO SANGWOO

pairing: dad's best friend!cho sang-woo x trans male reader

synopsis: When your dad’s hot best friend crashes at your place for a week, things heat up faster than the broken AC—throw in drunken confessions, lollipops, and a whole lot of unresolved tension, and you’ve got a summer break you’ll never forget.

content warnings: 18+, reader definitely has an oral fixation, too much plot, mentions of a transphobic mother, (GI HUN IS READER'S DAD), age gap (reader is 19 and sang-woo is in his 40's), unprotected sex, P in V, back-scratching? fingering, lots of unspoken tension.

word count: - 4.3k

A/N: ty to @art-gang-money , their request was what made me go on a spiral w this fic 🙏🏼🫡

Summer in your dad’s apartment always smelled like kimchi stew and stale cigarettes, a combination you’d grown weirdly fond of since moving back in after you started uni. The ceiling fan wobbled as it turned, and the couch sagged just enough to remind you how old it was. You were sprawled out on it lazily sucking on a cranberry lollipop and scrolling through your phone, when your dad cleared his throat dramatically.

“You’ll never guess who’s coming over,” he said, leaning against the doorframe like he was delivering some kind of life-altering news.

“Let me guess,” you deadpanned. “The landlord? Because I think the AC’s about to give out.”

He waved you off, grinning. “No, you brat. Cho Sangwoo. You’ve heard me talk about him, right?”

Heard? More like endured. Sangwoo was the mythical figure your dad brought up at every family gathering, a symbol of everything Seong Gi-hun wanted you to be: successful, hardworking, and an SNU graduate. You’d rolled your eyes through countless retellings of his achievements, imagining some stiff, balding guy in glasses who probably spoke in lectures.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, not looking up.

“He’s staying here for a week,” your dad added, oblivious to your lack of enthusiasm. “He’s got a client nearby, and I told him he could crash here. You’ll like him. He’s... cool.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Cool? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean much.”

Your dad ignored the jab, already walking toward the door. “He should be here any minute!”

When the door opened a few minutes later, you barely glanced up—until you heard the deep, smooth voice that followed.

“Gi-hun,” the man said warmly, stepping inside. “It’s been too long.”

You looked up and your sucker almost fell out of your mouth.

This wasn’t the stiff, balding guy you’d imagined. Sangwoo was tall, broad-shouldered, and wearing a suit that looked like it cost more than your dad’s entire wardrobe. His hair was styled just enough to look effortless, and the way he carried himself screamed confidence.

“Finally, you’re here!” your dad said, pulling him into a back-slapping hug. “Sangwoo, this is my son.”

“Nice to meet you kid,” Sangwoo said, extending a hand toward you.

You shook it, trying not to let your thoughts show on your face. His grip was firm, and his eyes lingered a moment longer than necessary.

“So you’re the famous Sangwoo,” you grinned, “Didn’t expect you to be so... old.”

Sangwoo raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a faint smirk. “Old?”

“Yeah,” you teased, leaning back against the couch. “Forty’s ancient.”

Your dad barked out a laugh. “Don’t mind him. He thinks anyone over twenty-five is ancient.”

Sangwoo didn’t reply, but the way his gaze lingered on you made your stomach twist.

After dinner, the hum of the evening settled over the apartment. Gi-hun had retreated to the couch, already half-asleep with the TV droning in the background. You had volunteered—reluctantly—to wash the dishes, partly out of guilt for eating so much and partly to avoid sitting awkwardly in the living room while Sangwoo and your dad chatted about old times.

The warm water ran over your hands as you scrubbed a plate, the faint scent of dish soap filling the air. You had just started to lose yourself in the monotony when you felt it—the faint shift of the air behind you.

“Need help?” Sangwoo’s voice came, low and smooth, almost too close.

You froze for a split second, your grip tightening on the plate. “Uh... I’ve got it,” you said, trying to sound casual, but your voice came out tighter than you’d hoped.

He didn’t seem to care—or maybe he didn’t believe you. Instead of leaving, he moved closer, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the sponge in your hand.

“Don’t be stubborn,” he said, his tone light but with an edge of amusement.

Before you could protest, he had already slid the sponge from your fingers, his other hand gently nudging you to the side—not enough to move you completely, but just enough so he could stand behind you, his chest brushing your back.

The countertop pressed against your hips, trapping you between the solid wood and Sangwoo. You swallowed hard, your thoughts scattering like leaves in a gust of wind.

His scent hit you first—clean and sharp, a mix of soap and something faintly musky, like fresh cedarwood. He had clearly just stepped out of the shower; his hair was still damp, and the faint warmth of his skin radiated against you.

“Just rinse them,” he said, his voice a soft rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

You nodded dumbly, reaching for the faucet, but your hands felt clumsy, your fingers fumbling with the knobs. The sound of the water splashing into the sink seemed impossibly loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

Sangwoo leaned forward slightly, his arm stretching past you to grab another plate. The movement brought him even closer, his chest pressing more firmly against your back. You could feel the faint rise and fall of his breath, steady and unhurried, as if he weren’t fully aware of what he was doing—or maybe he was too aware.

“You’re tense,” he commented, his voice laced with amusement.

You let out a breathless laugh, trying to ignore the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be body-blocked while washing dishes.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your back. “You’re overthinking it. Just relax.”

Easier said than done, especially with him standing this close. Every time his arm brushed yours or his hand grazed yours as he passed a plate, it sent tiny jolts of electricity through you.

“You always make dishwashing this awkward?” you asked, your tone half-joking, half-desperate to diffuse the tension.

“Only when I’m working with someone as clumsy as you,” he shot back, his smirk practically audible.

You turned your head slightly to glare at him, but the motion brought your face dangerously close to his. His eyes flicked down to your lips and back to you, and for a moment, neither of you moved.

The air between you was heavy, charged with something unspoken but impossible to ignore. He was so close you could see the faint droplets of water still clinging to his hair, the curve of his mouth as he smiled faintly, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Well,” you managed to say, your voice quieter now, “if you’re going to take over, at least let me get out of your way.”

“Who said I wanted you to move?” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you thought you’d misheard him. But then he turned back to the sink, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued washing the dishes as if nothing had happened.

You stayed frozen in place, your mind racing and your pulse hammering in your ears. If this was some kind of game, Sangwoo was winning effortlessly.

On the third day of Sangwoo’s stay, your dad insisted on taking you both out for drinks, and Sangwoo agreed with a faint smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Gi-hun, unsurprisingly, got wasted. You and Sangwoo ended up practically dragging him back to The humid summer night hung heavy as you and Sangwoo maneuvered your dad through the narrow streets, Gi-hun stumbling slightly with every step. He reeked of soju and cheap beer, his arm slung around Sangwoo’s shoulder while you tried to steady him from the other side.

“He’s heavy for someone who barely eats,” you grumbled, adjusting your grip.

“He’s always been like this,” Sangwoo said, shaking his head. “Some things never change.”

“Y’know,” Gi-hun suddenly slurred, his voice unusually loud in the stillness of the night, “I never thought I’d be one of those dads.”

“Which kind?” you asked, bracing yourself for whatever drunken confession was about to follow.

“The good ones!” he proclaimed, nearly tripping over his own feet. Sangwoo caught him effortlessly, his expression unreadable as Gi-hun continued. “Your mom… she didn’t think so. Thought I was crazy for defending you.”

“Dad,” you muttered, feeling the familiar prick of discomfort settle in your chest. “Maybe now’s not the time—”

“Why not?” Gi-hun cut you off, his eyes glassy but filled with a strange intensity. “Sangwoo doesn’t care. Do you, Sangwoo?”

Sangwoo hesitated, glancing at you before replying softly, “Not at all.”

Gi-hun nodded triumphantly, as if Sangwoo’s approval was all the validation he needed. “See? Told you. No shame in it. Not a damn bit.”

You didn’t reply, focusing instead on guiding him toward the apartment. But Gi-hun wasn’t done.

“Your mom…” His voice grew quieter, tinged with bitterness. “She couldn’t handle it. Said it wasn’t natural. Like you weren’t her kid anymore, just because you stopped wearing dresses and started wearing ties.” He barked out a humorless laugh. “As if a piece of fabric could change the fact that you’re you.”

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t interrupt. This wasn’t the first time he’d brought it up, but it still hit like a sucker punch every time.

“She wanted you to be her perfect little daughter,” Gi-hun continued, his words starting to blur together. “And when you wouldn’t… she packed up your sister and left. Going all the way to America like that would fix everything.”

He stumbled again, and this time Sangwoo steadied him with a firm grip. “America’s got more people like you anyway,” Gi-hun added, his tone lightening into something almost comedic. “She probably hates it there. Serves her right.”

You let out a soft, startled laugh despite yourself. The absurdity of it all—the drunken way he said it, the thought of your mother fuming in a country full of people who were allowed to be themselves (kinda)—was too ridiculous not to.

Gi-hun turned to look at you, his expression suddenly serious. “But you know… I’m glad you stayed with me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Not for a wife, not for money, not for anything.”

Your throat tightened, and you could only nod, your voice caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

Gi-hun leaned heavily against Sangwoo, his weight almost toppling both of them. “My kid’s a damn good man,” he declared, his voice wobbling with emotion. “Better than I’ll ever be.”

Sangwoo’s gaze flickered toward you, his dark eyes softening in understanding. He didn’t say anything, but the slight dip of his head felt like a silent acknowledgment—a recognition of everything unsaid.

When you finally got Gi-hun back to the apartment, he collapsed onto the couch, snoring almost instantly. You stood there for a moment, staring at him, your emotions too tangled to sort through.

Sangwoo broke the silence, his voice low. “He’s a good father.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the quiet sincerity in his tone. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice softer than usual. “He is.”

When you finally got your dad into bed from the couch, you turned to Sangwoo, expecting some kind of witty remark.

Instead, he just stared at you, his expression unreadable.

“What?” you asked, your voice coming out more defensive than you intended.

“Why do you keep doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Acting like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” he said, stepping closer. His voice was low, almost a growl, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Maybe I don’t,” you replied, your tone defiant.

“Don’t play dumb.” He was close now, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. “You’ve been pushing me all week. Do you even know what you’re asking for?”

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t back down. “Maybe I do.”

That was all it took.

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck as his lips crashed into yours. The kiss was rough, heated, filled with all the tension that had been building between you.

You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands clutching at his shirt as he pressed you against the wall. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, and you let out a quiet gasp that only spurred him on.

The kiss had left you breathless, your pulse pounding in your ears as Sangwoo’s grip on the back of your neck softened just slightly. The wall at your back was cool, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from his body. His forehead rested against yours, and for a brief moment, neither of you spoke.

“You’re trouble,” he muttered again, his voice quieter this time, but no less intense.

“You’re the one kissing me,” you shot back, the words shaky but bold.

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and his fingers slid from your neck to trace the line of your jaw. The touch was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and you couldn’t help but lean into it.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between amusement and exasperation.

“Do you?” you countered, meeting his gaze.

His eyes darkened, and his hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good thing I’m not scared of getting burned.”

That was all it took for him to lose the last thread of restraint. His lips were on yours again, fiercer this time, his hands gripping your waist as if anchoring himself. You clung to him just as desperately, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

When he pulled back again, his lips hovered near your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “You’ve been driving me insane,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Yeah?” you whispered, a teasing edge creeping into your tone despite the way your heart was racing. “And here I thought you were just ignoring me.”

His laugh was soft, almost bitter. “Ignoring you? Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to keep my hands off you?”

Your face heated at his words, but you couldn’t resist pushing him just a little further. “Sounds like a you problem, old man.”

His grip tightened on your waist, and he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression a mix of frustration and desire. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he didn’t give you the chance. His lips were on yours again, his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your bare skin. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you gasped softly against his mouth.

“Sangwoo—” you started, but he silenced you with another kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he pulled away just slightly.

“Say my name again,” he murmured, his voice so low it sent a thrill down your spine.

Your lips parted, but the sound of a door creaking down the hall snapped you both back to reality.

“Shit,” you whispered, your head jerking toward the noise.

He let out a soft curse, his hands slipping from your waist as he stepped back, putting just enough space between you to make it look like nothing had happened.

“Dad?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Probably,” Sangwoo replied, his tone clipped. He straightened his shirt, his expression already hardening back into the composed mask he’d worn all week.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed as you watched him pull himself together, but the heat in his gaze when he glanced back at you told you this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

“Go to bed,” he said quietly, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest hint of a smirk. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Promise?” you asked, your voice light but your heart still pounding.

He didn’t answer, but the look he gave you said enough.

Saturday had never felt so bittersweet. Usually, it was your favorite day of the week—a time to sleep in, lounge around, and revel in doing absolutely nothing. But this Saturday was different. Sangwoo’s stay was coming to an end, and the thought of him leaving left a knot in your stomach.

You hadn’t had the chance to talk about what had happened that night after the pub—or maybe you’d both avoided it. Every brush of his hand, every lingering look, had felt heavier in the days that followed. But neither of you had acknowledged it. Not once.

The tension in the apartment was unbearable, made worse by your dad’s cheery obliviousness. That morning, he announced he had to run out for work and wouldn’t be back until evening. He didn’t even glance up as he slipped on his shoes, leaving you alone with Sangwoo.

You sat at the kitchen table, absently swirling the stick of a grape lollipop between your lips as you scrolled through your phone. The candy clicked softly against your teeth, your thoughts miles away.

The sound of a chair scraping across the floor snapped you back to reality. You glanced up to see Sangwoo sitting across from you, his dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Is it good?” he asked, nodding toward the lollipop.

You pulled it out of your mouth with a soft pop, tilting your head. “What, this?” You swirled the candy dramatically. “Amazing. Want a taste, old man?”

His lips quirked into that maddening smirk, but he didn’t reply. Instead, he stood, moving toward you with deliberate slowness.

“Sangwoo,” you started, a warning in your tone.

He stopped right beside you, one hand braced on the table as he leaned down. His voice was low, a soft rumble that made your pulse quicken. “You’ve been driving me insane all week.”

You tried for a laugh, but it came out shaky. “Is this about the coffee thing again? (you had put salt in his coffee instead of sugar because you were so fixated on his face-) Because I already apologized—”

His hand reached out, his fingers gently gripping your chin, tilting your face toward him. The sudden proximity stole the words from your throat.

“Stop,” he said quietly, his eyes locked on yours. “Stop pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

Your heart was hammering now, the lollipop stick trembling slightly in your fingers. “Maybe I don’t,” you replied, though the smirk tugging at your lips said otherwise.

His gaze dropped to your mouth, and for a moment, he seemed to wrestle with himself. Then he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’re going to make me lose control.”

The words sent a thrill through you, but before you could respond, his lips crashed into yours.

It wasn’t gentle. It was rough, messy, and desperate, like he’d been holding back for too long and couldn’t stand it anymore. The lollipop tumbled from your hand, forgotten as you gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

He groaned softly against your mouth, his hands sliding to your waist, pulling you out of the chair and into him. Your back hit the wall a second later, and you gasped, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands tangled in his hair, still faintly damp from his morning shower. He kissed you like he was starving, his lips hot and insistent against yours. One of his hands slid up, tangling in your hair, while the other gripped your hip, keeping you firmly in place.

“You taste sweet,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough.

You managed a breathless laugh, tilting your head to nip at his jaw. “Blame the lollipop.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and heated. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“On the table,” you teased, the corner of your mouth quirking up.

With a low chuckle, he grabbed the discarded lollipop, holding it up as if examining it. Then, to your shock, he popped it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours.

“That’s mine,” you protested weakly, though your voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not anymore,” he said, his tone laced with amusement.

Before you could respond, he was kissing you again, the faint sweetness of the candy mixing with the heat of his mouth. The combination was intoxicating, making your head spin.

His hands roamed, gripping your waist, sliding under your shirt to brush against your bare skin. Every touch left a trail of fire in its wake, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your lips.

“Sangwoo,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck.

“Sangwoo,” you repeated, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his breathing ragged. “You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” he said, his voice low and raw.

“Good,” you shot back, your smirk returning. “Serves you right, old man.”

His laugh was quiet, almost disbelieving, before his lips found yours again, pulling you into another dizzying kiss.

His hand was going lower and lower, first to your collarbone, then to your waist. It slowly inched the topband of your shorts, pulling it back and letting it slap onto your skip, making you yelp.

His other hand held you steady at the waist, while his dominant one went under your boxers.

You whimpered as you felt his hand graze your cunt, teasing one finger against your wet folds. It had been a solid minute since you even touched yourself down there. You were always too anxious that Sangwoo would be able to hear you (Dad was tone deaf) or he might come home earlier than expected from his business meetings.

And his fingers— God, his hands. So strong and thick. They linger over the soft pudge of your cunt, pressing into the warm skin and pulling apart each sticky fold to ghost over the quiver and throb of your acawaiting, needy clit. How overwhelming they were, using his thumb to rub smooth circles into it, eliciting a wet squelch as his fingers sunk into your hot, gummy walls.

You latched your hands on his shoulders, back arching into the wall with the sudden intrusion. You muffled any noise you made by hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He propped you up higher on the wall, letting your head fall back, while his eyes never left yours.

“Sangwo–,” you were cut off by him suddenly sliding your shorts down. You remembered with embarrassment that you had worn–

“Huh. Hello Kitty.” the man stated while looking at your bright pink boxers. Your face flushed, turning to look away, while Sanwoo slid your boxers down and continued to have his way with your sopping cunt. 

You had no idea how long you had been in that position. He had taken your leg and placed it on your shoulder, making you somewhat balance on one leg, back resting on the wall and your hands on his shoulder.

Sangwoo on the other hand was obsessed with how his fingers were practically being devoured by your needy cunt, the slick making it easier to slide in every time.

He determined that you had been prepped enough, and removed his belt, along with his pants and boxers, which were now pooling at his knees.

He used his toned arms to steadily lift both your legs up, making you squeak. Your knees were now at the same level of your shoulders. Before you could let out a remark, he had slid the tip of his length into your gummy walls, eyes going wide with how tight you were.

“Fuck…so tight f’me, aren’t you?” It wasn’t really a question, more of a statement, and before you could respond, he had slid all the way in, making you gasp.

Using the opportunity, he captured your lips with his once more, muffling the sweet moans that came from you. He wanted to hear you, but your neighbours seemed to be quite…nosy.

When he had buried his cock all the way to the hilt, he stopped.

“Please…fuck, Sangwoo–,” you whined, feeling full but it just. wasn’t. enough.

“Please what doll? Use your words,” he teased, the smugness evident on his face.

“Fuck me till my legs are shaking. Please please plea–,” before you could finish, Sangwoo had slid out and he rammed into you once more, making you let out an almost pornographic moan.

He went at it like an animal, fucking into you with reckless abandon, as though he was in a rut. Your hands went from his shoulders to his back, your nails (whatever was left of them after you bit them off) scratched his back, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin.

Your cunt clamped tightly around his cock, as you tried to babble something but only moans left your lips. He seemed so heavily into chasing his own orgasm at this point. 

“San..Sangwoo..I– ” You tried to say but could only cry out as you felt your orgasm wash over you like a rapid stream. Your fingers dug ineffectually into his back as a way of forgetting the overstimulation against the older man’s harsh thrusts.

He groaned, feeling the sting of your nails and how your cunt was clenching around his length with every thrust.

He continued going even after you came, his hips retracting at a fast pace. His grip on your waist tightened, pressing down onto your flesh.

“ I’m gonna-- “, he breathes out before (reluctantly) pulling out of your tight hole and climaxing all over your stomach. 

The warmth of the liquid seeped down your stomach, settling in your navel and even going further to your used cunt.

As he was staring at your hole, that was still clenching around nothing, you brought your shaky hand to his face and dived in for another kiss.

The sound of a key turning in the door was unheard. Your dad’s voice rang out from the hallway. “Forgot my wallet! Need to get the groceries– What the… CHO SANGWOO WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH MY SON–”

Shit.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Where Do You End Pt. 1

Main Masterlist - Dean Masterlist

Read on A03! - Pt. 2

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, light angst, body swap, mentions of smut, humor, horniness, very weird

Summary/Warnings: You and Dean have found yourself in a body swap situation, but your bodies don't seem to be aware of that. They keep trying to do what they always do.

And what they always do isn't really something either of you what the other to know about.

Author's Note: Request from an anon! On god I made it as weird as it could get. I'm proud of me. Also, we're once again looking at multiple parts. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4.5k

This was fucking weird. 

Dean knew wasn’t exactly worth saying—it might be the most obvious statement in history—but this was so fucking weird. Weird in a way that made his brain feel a little fuzzy, that made his skin itch because there was no way this was real.

But there was certainly a way this was real.

And it wasn’t Dean’s skin that was itchy. 

She had nice skin. It was soft and comfortable to be inside of, the callouses on Her hands felt better placed than the ones on Dean’s, and there were scars that he’d sometimes touch on accident that felt more like art than stains. Her hair felt right whenever he’d brush his fingers through it. Her waist was perfect to hold whenever he’d brace his hands on his hips. And when Dean would reach up to rub his jaw, he’d be slammed with another reminder that this wasn’t his jaw. It was too smooth, at a different angle, and far too good.

This was the jaw he’d dreamt of holding and angling back. Of kissing a soft line across, sucking a small, dark mark on, or nipping at until everyone could see that Dean had been here. That his hand had wrapped around Her neck because she trusted him there, and he’d been holding Her chin up so She could look him in the eyes as they grinned at each other.

She had the prettiest smile. Her lips would curve up at the perfect angle, her eyes would shine like small stars, and every little line on Her face would serve as evidence that She was happy.

Dean hadn’t seen Her smile in a while. Not at him. Not like She used to. 

And he certainly wouldn’t see it now. He couldn’t.

All he could see was himself, across the room, rolling on the balls of his feet and sucking on his teeth as he thought.

As She thought.

This was so weird.

“I don’t like this.” She muttered, and Dean frowned. His voice sounded rougher, deeper, and heavier from outside. He wasn’t sure how he felt about it, or how to interpret the small shivers up his spine and over his skin. 

“C’mon,” Dean said Her name, in her sweet and musical voice, and he liked how it sounded. He’d always loved how She said her own name, like it was an answer to something or the only lesson Dean would ever need to learn. “Is it really that bad to be stuck in my body-“

“Yes.” She snapped, raising Her chin and glaring down at him, and now his heart was beating faster. “This feels weird, and I don’t like seeing you be me. You’re doing it wrong.”

Dean frowned, and Her hair fell over his eyes. “How the hell am I doing it-“

“You’re sitting wrong. Your legs are too wide, I don’t lean like that, and when I frown it’d not supposed to look like I’m trying to murder someone.”

Dean disagreed with that last one. Shit, for months the only expression he’d gotten from Her was a frown that told him She wanted him dead. 

He didn’t blame Her. He wasn’t all too happy with himself either, but it had been the only option. She wanted him. She said She wanted him, and she hadn’t been lying, and that had been the worst thing in the world.

If She hadn’t really wanted him, Dean could’ve offered himself in all his broken, foul glory and She would’ve walked away all by herself. Dean never would’ve needed to worry about losing Her, because he wouldn’t have had Her to begin with. But She’d said Dean Winchester, I want you, and he’d fucking believed Her. He never believed people when they said that. 

And him believing Her meant Dean could lose Her. Could truly let Her down and get her hurt. 

So he’d said no. He’d lied with practiced ease—through his teeth and with a flat expression—and told Her he didn’t see her like that. That She was his best friend, and he’d just never felt that for Her.

She nodded, and backed off. Smiling less and frowning more and still joking with him but never bumping their feet together under a table or leaning Her head on his shoulder. 

It was what he’d wanted. She was safer, and still within Dean’s reach to just see Her, to know she was okay. But he’d never expected to touch Her again. He’d made his peace with the fact that She’d always be just a stretch away, but never his to hold.

And now he could only hold Her. Only rub Her thighs when he was thinking, only touch her face when he tried to brush Her hair away, only feel Her everywhere, every second, until he drove himself mad.

He didn’t know if he wanted to thank the witch that had done this, or kill them again.

Right now he was leaning towards the later, if only because he really didn’t like seeing Her in his body. It wasn’t just weird. It was wrong.

“You’re not exactly acting like me either, sweetheart.” Dean raised his brows, and watched his own face drop into a further glower. “You’re standing too much like a girl.”

She scoffed. “What the fuck does that even mean-“

“You’re too relaxed-“

“Relaxed?”

“Yeah.” He tried to raise his chin, but Her hair fell in his face again. He didn’t know how the hell he was suppose to do anything when he had to keep it out of his face. “And you gotta walk slower. We’re not in a rush-“

“I’m in a rush! I told you, Dean, I don’t like this-“

“I’m not a big fan either!” He snapped. “But what the hell are we suppose to do about it? Every time we’ve tried to tell Sammy he hasn’t heard us-“

She rolled Her eyes. And they were Dean’s eyes, but that was Her eye roll. “That’s the curse, dumbass. We have to break it-“

“I got that, sweetheart, but I’m not seeing how you plan to do that without help-“

“I have you, Dean.” Her voice—his voice—was louder. Firmer. Commanding. It made his gut warm, and his body—Her body—sit a little taller of his own accord. “You’re on research duty, buddy. Let’s go.”

Dean scowled. He hated it when She called him buddy. He wasn’t Her buddy, he was supposed to be Her-

Nothing. Dean was Her nothing, because he’d been so very careful to make and keep it that way.

And that knowledge never stopped him from wanting Her. Wanting Her so bad that, when he’d glance down at her hands, now in his control, he couldn’t stop wondering if he’d ever get to feel them like this again. Rubbing against skin and tracing over the curve of his lips and trailing nails on his legs.

It didn’t really count. That wasn’t Dean’s body that he was feeling. But the touch felt real, and he didn’t really want to let it go yet, not if this was the closest to holding Her he’d ever get. Just a small, torturous reparation for his sacrifice of never really having her, where he got to memorize Her body and keep it in his head forever.

“C’mon,” Dean said Her name, because he wanted a little more time. A longer chance to exist in this purgatory, because he’d never get the chance to fully enter heaven. “You don’t need my help-“

“Yes, I do.” She snapped, grabbing Her jacket from the bed and marching to the door. “Get up. We’re going.”

Dean didn’t want to get up, but Her body didn’t seem to agree with him. He pushed off the bed and gained an unsteady balance, because Her knees were oddly weak. She wasn’t weak—She hunted like an animal and had used this very body to knock Dean flat on his ass—but something was making him lightheaded and dizzy. 

He was probably just hungry. They hadn’t eaten since the curse hit. 

“If we’re doing this,” he grumbled, shuffling to put on Her shoes. “We’re doing it with food.”

“Deal.” She tried to shrug on Her jacket, froze when it didn’t fit around Dean’s body, and chucked it right at his face. “Wear that. I don’t want you getting me a cold.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but put on the jacket. She was already pissed, and this wasn’t worth fighting about.

“This is so weird,” She mumbled, shaking Dean’s head. “C’mon, Winchester, we’re fixing this-“

“Wait,” Dean frowned, patting his pockets—Her pockets—and scanning around the motel room. “Where are my keys-“

“You mean these keys?”

He turned to see Her holding up the Impala’s keys, a shit-eating grin on Her face. 

Dean narrowed his eyes, holding out his hand. “Gimme my keys.”

“No.” She shrugged, Her grin growing. “I think I’m good.”

“I’m not asking, sweetheart-“

“Okay. You take them, they’re yours.”

She walked out of the motel room, and Dean’s eyes widened. There was no fucking way She was driving his car.

“They are mine!” He shouted, sprinting after Her. “Just cause you’re in my damn body-“

Her body was faster than Dean was used to. He almost slammed right into Her back—His back—and an undignified sound left his when Her arms wrapped around his waist, catching him from a fall and holding him right to Her chest.

He’d never realized he was that broad. Or that strong. She was holding Dean like he was paper, and looking at him with shining eyes—he could see the real Her almost glowing in his body—and grinning with Her whole face. Dean’s whole face, with crinkles near his eyes he hadn’t known he had, and stubble on his jaw he’d meant to shave today.

Her hands were rubbing his waist. It was the small, careful circles he always dreamt of leaving on Her hips and arms. 

He wasn’t sure She knew she was doing it.

“Uh,” Dean cleared his throat, because She needed to let go now. Her touch was burning on his body, and they hadn’t really touched since the curse hit, so maybe they weren’t allowed to. “Keys.”

She shook Her head. “This is my one chance to drive, Dean-“

“It’s my freakin’ car-“

“And I’m you.” She raised Her brows, still holding him, and the fiery feeling got worse. “I’m driving.”

He should’ve fought more. But Her hand squeezed him lightly, and his whole body grew molten. 

She needed to let go of him now. 

He tried to grunt Her name, but it just came out breathy and soft. “You crash it-“

“I pay for the repairs.”

Dean scowled, but gave in. Right now She was stronger and taller than he was, and Dean didn’t really want to lose any dignity trying to physically take the keys. 

And She didn’t crash it. Dean watched Her drive with careful attention—grumbling about what She was doing wrong until She shot him the deadliest glare he’d ever seen—and She never even came close to crashing. Her hands were big and firm and broad on Baby’s wheel, and Her arms would flex when she shifted the wheel, and there was a set look of determination on Her face that made her jaw look shaper-

That was not Her jaw. That was his jaw. And his arms, and his hands, and he wasn’t sure why the hell his eyes had been wandering over himself like that. He didn’t know why the hell he could feel his heartbeat in his throat and stomach. 

He wasn’t in full control. When they parked, his body didn’t want to move until She helped him out of his seat, and Dean didn’t miss the look of confusion on Her face, like she wasn’t entirely certain why She’d done that. It was the same expression she had when She guided him inside, or when She opened the door for him.

Those were things Dean always did for Her. He wasn’t used to a hand on his back, or how nice it felt there. Secure, like a tether that told him he’d be alright. He didn’t understand why his body leaned closer to Her’s as they walked, or why his stomach kept doing little flips when Her eyes would fall from scanning over the diner and land on his.

He felt so unbelievably safe and calm. Hell, he’d never felt like this. Like the sky could fall and it would be fine, because the body across from his in the booth would catch it. 

This was a really weird curse.

“You’re going to take notes,” She said, pushing a stack of books across the table that She must have pulled out of her ass. “I’ll look for something online.”

Dean frowned, shaking his head. The fucking hair was in his face again. “Why do I have to do the notes-“

“Because I have better handwriting, and you have my hands.” She handed him a notebook and pencil, and their fingers brushed, sending small sparks of electricity through Dean’s blood. “Tell me if you find something.”

“Nah, sweetheart. I think I’ll have some pie and do the online research-”

Dean had started to push everything back across the table, but he froze at the glare on Her face. It was downright domineering, and did weird things to his brain. He felt fuzzy. 

“You’re doing notes.” She grunted, and Dean definitely felt at least a little dizzy. “That’s it.”

His voice was high and almost bratty in his own ears. He didn’t like it. “But-“

“Don’t test me, Winchester. I swear to god I’ll eat a salad.” Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll take you for a run.”

Dean tensed. “You wouldn’t fuckin’ dare-“

“You wanna bet?”

She’d won the argument again. Those were the arguments Dean was supposed to win. He was supposed to be able to talk his way out of anything with Her. To smirk and wink and tease Her until she broke rank from Sam’s side, and Dean didn’t have to do the stupid parts of the cases anymore. He hadn’t taken notes in years. He hated taking notes, and he wanted to keep pushing until order was restored and She was doing the notes—she usually loved doing the notes—but Her body had other ideas.

His mouth couldn’t figure out how to open and snap at Her. His body was molded and frozen into the seat whenever She’d look at him, and something kept humming in his chest whenever She’d talk. He was taking notes because he couldn’t remember how not to—how to grab the laptop or point at Her with a stern finger—and Dean’s was writing fast and neat, and his hand wasn’t cramping.

His foot kept aching to inch forward and press on Her calf. His fingers kept wanting to reach out and trace Her jaw. Dean wanted to sit on Her lap—he could never say that one aloud—because his body seemed to think it would be comfortable. 

This curse was insane. He didn’t need to try and act like Her anymore, because his body—Her body—still seemed to remember how She was supposed to move. He found his hands spinning the pen between Her fingers like he’d seen her do a million times. His legs were crossed on the booth instead of spread under the table. He ordered a burger, but he couldn’t eat it. It was too greasy and heavy, and he already felt a little sick from just one bite. 

She’d ordered chicken nuggets, and put Her usual disgusting amount of ketchup on the plate, but barely touched them.

They smelled really good. Dean was starving, his mouth watering as he couldn’t stop staring at them—or Her, in his body, but he didn’t really want to dwell on that—and when She glanced up at him, Her eyes flicked to the burger in front of him.

They traded plates without a word. And Dean had never seen himself eat before, but he finally understood why Sam was always so annoyed with him. She inhaled that thing, chewing loudly and wiping Her mouth with the back of her hand, licking her fingers clean and making disgusting smacking sounds-

The sounds should’ve been disgusting. Instead they settled in Dean’s gut, lighting a small fire he didn’t know how to stop feeding. He couldn’t figure out how to not stare at Her, arms braced on the table and brow furrowed as she read something on the laptop screen. 

He had to excuse himself to go get more drinks. 

“One beer.” He muttered, then immediately cringed. Beer sounded foul to his mouth. “Actually, make it a milkshake.”

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Some poor chick at the bar war probably getting hit on. The lady behind the counter seemed motherly. She’d handle it if it got out of hand, and Dean had bigger problems to deal with anyway. Problems like how if he didn’t have a milkshake right now, he might actually die.

“What flavor, sweetheart?” The server asked, and Dean frowned. Being called sweetheart was weird.

He responded with Her usual order—hopefully that would satisfy his unwelcome craving—and someone off the side cleared the throat.

“You gonna answer me?”

A hand landed on Dean’s arm, and he flinched. It felt clammy and wrong on his body. Like a weight that settled into his bones and sent a creeping, itchy feeling over his skin.

He turned to see a fairly tall, well-built man grinning at him with an almost predatory smile. It made his body go rigid, almost shrinking in on itself.

“Are you, uh,” he frowned. “You talking to me?”

The man laughed. It was too loud, with not warmth, and echoed like a gunshot in his skull. “Course I am, sweetheart. I don’t see any other pretty girls ‘round.”

Oh.

Dean was the poor chick being hit on. 

And he hated it. His body hated it. Not only was this man’s touch wrong, his voice was wrong. It slithered over Dean’s gut and chest, making everything in him recoiled and balk, because that was not how he was supposed to be called sweetheart. 

“I, um,” he glanced back to the booth, frowning when he realized She was gone. “Listen, dude, I’m not-“

“Dude?” The man laughed. “We can do better than that, baby-“

Dean might have visibly recoiled. He hated baby, only one voice felt like it was supposed to call him baby, even if it never had-

He didn’t know what was happening, or why he was having such a visceral reaction to something that should’ve been passive and boring. Dean knew She got hit on all the time, because she was a fucking knockout, and his usual reaction to it was a possessive anger he had no right to feel. Not disgust, or a weird desire to retreat and hide-

“What’s going on?”

That was Dean’s own voice. And there was a large presence behind him that felt reliable. That his body wanted to lean back into.

When Dean turned, She was right there with narrowed eyes. 

He didn’t love how he immediately felt better, and softer, and a little light-headed.

“Hey, man, you gotta wait your turn-“

“My turn?” She snorted. “Walk away from hi- her, buddy, or I’ll kick your ass. I can do that now.”

She puffed Her chest, and—as soon as his brain remembered how to not be static warmth—Dean would have to talk to Her about not abusing his body for unapproved bar fights.

The man scoffed. “Bro, there ain’t no way this is your girl-“

“She is.” Her voice was dry, her face flat. “In more ways than you can imagine. Go.”

Dean was starting to like this curse less. To start, he didn’t appreciate the speed at which the idea of Her being his girl had been dismissed. He also wasn’t a huge fan of how She’d called him his girl, and he’d liked it. She’d been talking about how Dean was in Her body, and she probably didn’t want a random creep trying to get in her pants. 

Dean’s body—Her body—loved the sound of Her agreement in his voice. It made him feel tingly. 

It didn’t help how She was touching him—holding his arms as She glared at the man over his head—and it kicked the feeling from a soft, warm hum to fireworks. Dean wanted Her hand to meld there and never let go. When the man walked away and She started talking, he never wanted Her to shut up.

“You-“ She swallowed, shaking Her head slightly. “Never mind. I found it.”

Dean blinked at Her. “It?”

“How to tell Sam.

“Oh.” He paused, mostly staring at her as the words sank in, and letting out a long breath of relief escape him when they did. “Awesome.”

She raised Her brows. “You’re pro switching back now?”

“I’ve always been pro switching back-“

“You said it wasn’t that urgent.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I changed my mind, sweetheart. What’d you find.”

She gave him an odd look—Dean couldn’t tell if it was hurt, annoyance, or absolute indifference—but continued. “We have to work around the curse.”

“What the hell does-“

“We can’t tell Sam that I’m you and you’re me. Every time we have the call gets dropped, or something loud has drowned us out, Sam’s literally fucking hangs up-“

“I know,” Dean drawled Her name, giving Her a flat look. “I was there for all of that-“

“Shut up. My point is every time we’ve tried to explicitly tell him, he hasn’t heard us. So what if we just don’t?”

Dean frowned at Her. “Your solution is to just freakin’… give up? Like we’re a kiddie soccer team that lost one to many matches, and we’re gonna quit and cry about it?”

“No, Dean. My goal is to not say it, but let Sam figure it out himself.”

“How-“

“Think of something only you and Sam know about. Something you’d never disclose to anyone else.” A wide, broad grin was stretching over Her face. Dean’s face.

He couldn’t keep living like this.

“We’ve got a few of those kinds of secrets, but I’m not-“

“You don’t have to tell me. You have to tell Sam, in my voice. Just like I’m going to say one of our secrets in your voice.”

It was a smart plan, and it would probably work. Sam knew She and Dean were being so annoying and weird about each other, so they wouldn’t be spilling deep, dark secrets anytime soon. Sam would hear them, and he was smart, so he’d figure them out. 

But Dean was mostly stuck on the last part of that sentence.

“You and Sammy have secrets?”

She rolled Her eyes. “We’re friends. Of course we have secrets.”

“About what?”

“It’s not a secret if I tell you.”

She crossed Her arms—Dean’s arms—and he wanted them to wrap around him and keep him warm and safe, maybe choke him a little or carry him around everywhere like he was the only thing She was meant to hold-

Jesus. 

“Whatever.” Dean muttered. He needed to get away from Her now. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

She frowned. “Can you hold it?”

“Yeah, but why the hell would I-“

“I don’t want you peeing in my body.”

Dean snorted. “Are you freakin’ serious-“

“Yes! You’ll have to wipe-“

“I know how to wipe, sweetheart. And you’re gonna need to take me to piss eventually-“

Dean could swear She blushed. He blushed. Goddamnit. 

“I’d hold it.” She snapped, standing a little taller. “You can go back at the motel, where I can go with you.”

“Why would you need to go with me-“

“I don’t want you touching me there, Dean!” Her voice was a low, hushed shout. “It’s- You don’t get to- I’d need to wipe, and make sure you didn’t look!”

“It’s just a pussy,” he said Her name slowly, and She looked like she was going to kill him.

His horrible body—Her body—wanted to either give in or push harder, until She snapped him in half. 

It seemed to like the idea of Her giving him anything at all.

Dean could work with that.

“Dean, I’m fucking serious-“

“So am I! It’s just a body, ” He sneered, and really wished She was taller. It was hard to be firm and authoritative when She was bigger. 

When this was over, he’d probably respect Her a little more. She shouted and him and Sammy all the time without ever flinching.

“Look, I get that this is weird as hell, but it’s nothing I haven’t seen before-”

 “You haven’t seen it before. It’s my vagina, Dean, and you don’t get to see it now. Hold your piss.”

Suddenly, it clicked. She cared that Dean would be touching Her. If it was Sam, She wouldn’t give a shit.

But Dean had lost the right to touch Her there when he’d decided he could never hold Her.

It had felt like a good idea at the time. Past Dean had understood that She deserved better, and She shouldn’t have to live Her whole life with a target on Her back. Past Dean had known that She’d find better, and he’d be forgotten in a few years, and it was better for his to have another good thing slip through his fingers rather than hold it and break it. Past Dean just wanted Her to be happy and safe, and She’d never be both as long as She was attached to him.

Past Dean had been an idiot. That son of a bitch hadn’t needed to pee this bad, and he hadn’t spent months with Her just in reach. 

Dean opened his mouth to say something—not an apology, because he’d make that choice in every life to keep Her safe—but before he could, She was moving. Grabbing the hook of Dean’s arm and pulling him out of the diner.

“That’s my body, Dean.” She snapped. “You’re peeing at the motel.”

Dean grumbled an agreement, and didn’t fight all that hard. He had bigger worries. She was pulling him through the parking lot, and he was letting Her. Shit, he was trying to jog a little to keep up with Her, maybe fall into her side. Just fall into Her. She opened the Impala door and he scowled, but let Her help him inside. Her hand touched his lower back again, and it set off fireworks around his ribs and through his intestines.

He felt weirdly warm and gooey, his skin was tingling again, and when he shifted slightly in his seat he could feet something wet between his legs-

Son of a bitch.

She’d been manhandling him, and he was turned on by it. Her body was turned on by it. She wanted to Dean to jump in his own body and climb it like a tree, and Jesus, that ache between his legs was unbearable, and he wanted his own cock inside off him-

They needed to fix this right fucking now. 

End Note: Brace for incoming smut and silliness and angst. Brewing a perfect storm over here.

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

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[churipu]

BEAUTIFUL FEATURES 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro megumi

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing on gojo :)

note. while i'm working on chapter 5 of my killswitch lullaby series, i'm gonna upload something because i just got home from a get together with my big family, and part 5 of killswitch lullaby is still halfway done :(

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

"you have freckles."

averting your eyes to gojo through the mirror in the bathroom, you nodded, "mhm, they've always been there," it's not like you've made them noticeable — so the reaction was expected, you never really liked them.

"why did i just notice them?" he asks, leaning his shoulder onto the doorway, "i mean — they look really pretty y/n."

pretty didn't sit well with you, especially not when you grow up hating that certain feature. chuckling out softly, you raised a brow, "they're not pretty, they're weird, 'toru."

the male blinks, "who said that?"

"everyone else but you—" he scoffs, throwing his face to the side with a lop-sided smirk, "what? why are you laughing?"

gojo shakes his head in denial, "fuck what they think — i think they're pretty, and they suit you. why would you hide it?" the blue eyed male watches your every move as your fingers pressed on the skin colored cushion onto your skin, sealing away the beautiful dots gracing across your cheeks.

"because i feel better without them." you nonchalantly answered, patting the cushion a few times to flatten the foundation. your freckles immediately drowned under it, disappearing from sight.

gojo was silent, his face was indescribable — and you don't know what he had in mind next. frankly, he's a little angry. not at you, anyone but you. the male then stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your waist, "can i ruin your make up just the slightest bit . . ?"

"yes, but 'm not going to talk to you for the rest of the day . . . or two."

the blue eyed male chuckled, but he wasted no time wrapping his slender fingers around your wrist, peppering gentle kisses across your cheeks, right over the semi-wet foundation — leaving traces of his lips on your face. gojo didn't even care about the sticky substance graved on his lips.

pulling back, he seemed satisfied at his work of art. your make up ruined almost completely as your foundation was smeared away, the smooth layer now barely even there at all, and all was left was trails of his kisses over your sun kissed freckles.

"you're so beautiful, i'd kiss you right now — but i wouldn't want to get foundation in your mouth," he whispers, instead of leaning into your lips, he pressed his foundation laced lips along your forehead, engraving his lips on your skin.

"you're so cheesy—"

"way to ruin the moment, y/n. really great! you're lucky i love you," he grazed his thumb over his art, wiping away your foundation, "i love you and everything about you."

smiling lightly, you nod, "i love you too."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami traced his finger on your skin behind your ear, the tip of his finger grazing over the same spot again and again. his eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit, "what happened here?"

you glanced at him, "hm? what happened where?" the male didn't answer, but his finger traced your skin — specifically, where your birth mark laid. and he blinked slowly, "oh, i forgot about that. nothing happened there, 'ts my birth mark."

the male nods his head. his eyes never leaving the darker spot behind your ear, "i never knew you had one . . ." he mumbles out, a little upset he's never noticed such a beautiful feature on you through out the time he has been with you.

"i didn't want you to," you replied back.

nanami retracted his hand back, "are there any reasons why?"

craning your neck to face him, your e/c eyes averted around the room. anywhere but right at his eyes, "um . . . i don't think that my birth mark is an important feature, you know where i'm coming from?"

nanami in fact didn't, "unfortunately, not."

"i just don't think it's nice to look at," you tell him the truth, chuckling, "but i actually forgot that i had that behind my ear for a bit."

once again, his fingers flew to trace your birth mark, admiring it silently. strands of your hair gets tangled in between his fingers at the action, but the male wasn't pulling on it, "it's beautiful. you're beautiful."

"think so?" you asked.

nanami didn't answer you, but his hand cupped your face gently, pulling you close and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. it was a short kiss, but it was full of admiration and love, "i do. i mean it," he states out, gazing into your eyes.

"i love you, ken. you know that, right?"

"i love you more, y/n. you know that, right?"

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

you'd think that your boyfriend wouldn't notice the way you strain back your smile from engulfing your face? frankly, thinking megumi wouldn't notice was something stupid — megumi notices everything, especially things about you. his partner.

"why do you do that?" he questions, leaning back onto the wall.

raising a brow at him in confusion, you replied back, "do what?"

"straining back your smile — why don't you just . . . smile?" his voice was quiet, but there was something behind it. not anger, not disappointment; megumi was just confused, was it something that he should be concerned about?

even if it wasn't, he is already concerned.

his question left your mind a little hazed, wondering if you should tell him the truth or just lie your way out of this. but (thankfully), you ended up with the first choice, "i didn't want to deepen my smile lines, they look weird."

now it was megumi's mind swirling with different questions, "smile lines? why— what? what?" he mutters under his breath — mind a little disintegrated.

"it leaves a mark behind, i don't like it—"

"you look fine." he cuts you off, "you have a nice smile, don't hold it back."

coming from someone like megumi, you thought it might have been the greatest compliment you have ever gotten the whole entire year. the first genuine smile popped out on your face after a bit, the apple of your cheeks rounding as you beam out at the male in delight, "really? you mean that?"

megumi sighs, nodding, "really."

"that means a lot to me, gumi. thank you," the male blinked — he wasn't sure what had gotten you so happy, surely it wasn't his compliment, is it?

it is, "yeah."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[anantaru]

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ rich boy aventurine headcanons that live rentfree in my head ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡ // cw. [ex]plicit, fem! reader ˚୨୧⋆

rich boy aventurine buys you panties that when he flips you over, show a stripe of diamond letters webbed into the flimsy waistband— his name had to be somewhere around you, correct? so this is certainly heaven to him. how gorgeous you look to him as well, with your ass perked up all nicely so he could squeeze and rub it, stroke and touch it— how your back was looking like an art piece, flowingly bend to present a show for him.

rich boy aventurine wants you to name it all, in fact, you should always be honest with him— because, hey, what do you need? shoes, perhaps a new bag or do you need him to go far beyond that? because the man certainly doesn't find it difficult to make your dreams come true.

as long as he gets to play with your body and sopping cunt, and call you beautiful whenever you sucked him off, he's utterly pleased. it's intense when his strong arms cradle you and you feel how your breath hitches when he slowly turns from your pussy to your perky tits, sucking one nipple with just the right amount of pressure.

smiling wickedly as he drags your moans from deep inside of you.

rich boy aventurine marvels in the smoothness of your skin and wants nothing more than to pleasure you in all the right ways imaginable once he finally pops his shaft through your hole— his tongue searches for yours to sway back and forth between mouths as he fucks you, filling you, roughly and completely as he touches something special in your soft walls.

rich boy aventurine gets hard, painfully so, when you're being a fucking brat to him, the meaner you are, the better. precisely when you do it on purpose too. you take over every square in his mind and logic— and well, what's best about that situation is that after you believe you've managed to wrap him around your finger for once, he smiles through heart-shaped glasses before pulling up your shirt to expose your chest to him.

he rubs against your saliva-slicked tits as you notice his hard cock judding against your thigh, rocking against you as you follow his lead— although, thoroughly, more so intently, rich boy aventurine twists one hand downwards to press a little harder on your clit as your body sparks in euphoria, body rocking and fighting the pleasure shocked twitches.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[amandacanwrite]

I would like to share a few head canons for Gale Dekarios being in love with tav/you. If you liked this one and have a request for another character let me know. These ones have just been percolating for a bit.

In Battle

He tries very hard to stay near you. He doesn’t like it when you go off on your own. He knows he doesn’t quite have the strength of Karlach or the sure footedness of Astarion, but he’s not just going to let you fight everyone on your own.

Sometimes he gets a little hurt that you always put yourself in harms way/take so much of the damage on the battlefield. Don’t you know that losing you would destroy him?

You have never witnessed it, but according to the other party members he goes feral if you’re knocked unconscious.

When you wake up it’s always with your head cradled in his lap as shadowheart works on the worst of the wounds.

He does this thing with his magic where he makes his hands really cold. It feels nice on your feverish skin as he gently smooths your hair away from your face, you don’t know why you feel so nauseous and sweaty after you black out but this little gesture helps you come back smoothly.

He has a hard time sleeping after a rough encounter. He keeps waking up and making sure you’re still breathing. In the end he gives up on sleeping and just reads by the fire, calming his nerves to the sound of your steady, stable breathing.

In Camp

He is hilariously fussy about what you eat.

“No, you ABSOLUTELY CANNOT subsist off of a loaf of bread, three olives and a bottle of wine. We are no longer young scholars barely SCRAPING by—“

Very resourceful when it comes to what you can scrape together out of barrels around camp. You were very skeptical when you watched him putting a variety of different bones into a cauldron as you left him back in camp one day. But you came back to a rich stew full of potatoes, some wild rice and even some cut up apple in the mix.

He likes it when you play with his hair. But he has to very pointedly avoid it if he’s in the middle of reading up on something.

“Darling, are you certain you’re not practiced in the arcane arts? I do think you’ve got some magic in those fingertips of yours, at the very least, with how quickly they can put me to sleep.”

When You’re Alone

It’s simple. He worships you. Perhaps it’s because his last lover was a goddess but it seems to come easy for him; the reverent words, the gentle touches, the utter devotion. Sometimes you catch him just… looking at you. His eyes softly hooded, a relaxed curve to his lips. It’s your favorite to ask what’s on his mind when he looks at you like that.

“Hm? Oh, nothing much. I’ve just been observing. Did you know you purse your lips when you’re reading something that you disagree with? Yes—hah—just like that.”

He loves to read WITH you. Especially loves to show you some of his favorite tomes. He’ll get you all nestled up against him and hold the book down in front of you. He reads much faster than you, so he busies himself kissing behind your ear or playing with your hair until you turn the page.

Gods does he love it when you ask him questions about something to do with magic. He loves watching the glint in your eye when he’s helped you understand something.

You love it when you get him rolling on a topic of theory that you know he doesn’t get to talk about much. Sometimes he loses you when he gets into the minutiae, but he’s so damn cute when he’s ranting about the wonder in the world.

In Intimate Moments

(Potential NSFW below.)

Of course it is not a surprise that he’s a generous lover. What is a surprise is how demanding he can be when he feels like it. He knows you are no stranger to a challenge and he loves to make things more exciting by presenting you with one.

“Of course I’m aware of our companions in camp. But it’s not as if we can afford ourselves more privacy. You’re just going to have to quiet those lovely little sounds you make while I touch you… let’s see… it was here wasn’t it? Ah, ah… shhhh, my love. Those pointy ears of Astarion’s might pick even that tiny sound.”

Gods does he know how to string words together to leave you completely undone.

Sometimes foreplay is mostly talk. He can get you going without even touching you.

“My love, I’ve not been able to stop thinking of the ways I want to touch you all day. Shall I tell you what’s been on my mind?”

His breath tickles against your ear as his hands smooth over your clothed body, telling you how he wants to take you. It’s all the more flustering when you know he always keeps his word.

Love making always starts with a kiss, deep and slow.

You feel him smile into the kiss when he slips his fingers into the front of your trousers and he feels just how aroused he’s made you.

“You are exquisite. A delicacy of the highest quality. Do you know that?”

He’s not one to bang it out for a quickie. He doesn’t like to feel like he’s stealing his time with you, or like he’s a young man again and hastily getting whatever he can before heading back to the dormitories. Every touch, every word, every thrust is slow and deliberate. He wants to relish the feeling of it all. He wants to soak you in.

Somehow, he always smells good. Like cinnamon and tea and… some earthen, herbaceous scent you cant place.

So many cuddles after you’re done.

[halfmoonaria]

chasing

pairing: cairo sweet x female reader

summary: cairo finds herself doing something she’s never done before.

wordcount: 3.3k

Cairo always got what she wanted.

She knew how to bend people to her will with a well-timed glance, a dangerous smirk, or a few whispered words that could send chills down anyone's spine.

Manipulation was an art she had mastered, her every move calculated and deliberate. She could sense the shift in a room the moment she walked in, how people instinctively gravitated toward her.

There was something almost intoxicating about the way people danced around her, eager to be on her good side.

So, when you, the new student walked into the room, confident and stunning, Cairo was certain you'd be no different.

She knew she'd have your attention in no time.

However, you didn't fall into line like the others.

You didn't focus on her the way she expected. Sure, you smiled, you were kind, but you treated her just like you treated everyone else.

You were friendly with everyone.

Too friendly, in her opinion. And that didn't sit right with her.

You had a way of floating between conversations, effortlessly charming everyone with your smile, your laugh, that way you had of making people feel seen. It grated on Cairo. Not because she didn't like it—no, she was impressed. Intrigued, even. But you treated her like everyone else.

And Cairo wasn't "everyone else."

She didn't want to be just another face you smiled at before moving on.

From the moment she set her sights on you, Cairo had already mapped out the game plan.

She'd sweep in with a little subtlety, make sure you knew that your attention should be on her. That she wasn't just another person you smiled at and moved on from. But every time she tried to catch your eye, she found herself met with the same warm smile you gave to everyone else.

It drove her insane.

You weren't playing the game right.

At first, she tried to be subtle, thinking she could reel you in with a little charm.

She'd linger near your conversations, leaning in just enough to draw your attention, flashing you a smile that usually sent people stumbling over their words. But you never did.

It irked her more than she'd ever admit.

One afternoon, she caught you at your locker, her presence lingering just a bit closer than necessary.

She didn't need to say much—just enough to remind you she was there.

"You've been busy," she said casually, her voice smooth. "Making friends?"

You barely glanced at her, smiling as you stacked your books in your arms. "Yeah, everyone here's really nice. It's been fun."

Cairo's fingers tapped against the edge of your locker door, her posture relaxed, but there was something sharp in her gaze. "You've got a lot of people's attention," she added, her voice carrying a faint edge, almost teasing, like she was sharing a secret.

But you didn't pick up on it, just continued gathering your books, flashing her that friendly grin she was starting to hate. "I guess so. I just like meeting new people."

She gave a small laugh, a flicker of frustration flashing through her eyes. Was that all it was to you? Meeting new people?

"I don't usually let just anyone into my circle, you know," she said, her tone light, but the hint of something more serious was there, just beneath the surface.

You shrugged, seeming to miss the point entirely. "That's cool. Everyone needs their space sometimes."

Cairo's smile tightened, just slightly. You weren't supposed to treat her like this—like she was just someone else in the crowd.

She wasn't used to dropping hints that went unnoticed, her usual strategies failing to catch your eye the way they did with everyone else. But there you were, treating her like a casual acquaintance, and it drove her crazy.

But she didn't let it show. She wasn't about to throw away her cool, not yet. Cairo always got what she wanted, and while you were making her work for it, she wasn't about to let you slip through her fingers. Not when she knew, deep down, that she was different.

You weren't cowering, you weren't melting into her hands, and it was starting to make her want to prove herself even more.

She wasn't used to it—feeling like she was chasing someone for attention. Normally, people flocked to her, desperate for even a sliver of her approval. But with you, it was different.

You didn't need her, and that was something she wasn't sure she knew how to handle.

But Cairo wasn't going to let that stop her. If she couldn't bend you to her will immediately, she'd find another way. Because in the end, she always got what she wanted.

And right now, what she wanted was you.

And one way or another, you'd see it too.

Although it took longer than she had anticipated.

Cairo couldn't even begin to admit it—not to you, not to herself.

The pull toward you was undeniable, slowly slipping past her walls, making her do things that were beneath her usual pride.

Things like asking for help. Her, of all people, needing someone else? It was almost laughable.

Yet, here she was, waiting in the hallway after class, her stomach twisting in unfamiliar knots, even as she forced that signature smirk onto her lips—the one she knew could get her anything. Anything, except maybe you.

It was after the last bell of the day, the hallways still buzzing with students grabbing their stuff and making plans for the weekend. You were at your locker, sorting through your books when you heard a familiar voice behind you.

"Hey, Y/N," Cairo said, her tone as smooth as always, cutting through the noise around you.

You turned to see her leaning against the lockers, her usual confident smirk in place. "You think you could help me with that English assignment Mr. Miller gave us?"

You didn't think twice, returning her look with the same warm smile you always gave her. "Yeah, sure. When do you want to get together?"

The casual buzz of students chatting and lockers slamming continued around you, but Cairo's focus stayed locked on you, her expression cool as if she had all the time in the world.

That simple, unbothered answer made Cairo's chest tighten in a way she hadn't expected.

You didn't know.

You had no idea that Cairo didn't actually need help.

She was the top student—well, she had been until you showed up. Now she was fighting for her place at the top, something she never had to do before. And she hated it. But she wanted this. She wanted you.

Everyone who knew Cairo would've raised an eyebrow at the request. She had history with Mr. Miller, and all it took was one well-timed request for an A to appear in her gradebook. But this time, Cairo wasn't interested in the grade. She wasn't interested in winning over Mr. Miller.

She was interested in you.

When she arrived at your place later that evening, the sight of you waiting on the porch felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

You looked even better—relaxed, confident, more like yourself. Your hair fell effortlessly over your shoulders, and the casual way you leaned against the railing made her stomach flip.

She didn't understand this feeling. It wasn't like her to be knocked off balance. Cairo was always the one in control, the one with people tripping over themselves for her attention.

But now, she was the one who wanted your attention.

"Hey," you greeted her with a casual smile, holding the door open. "Glad you made it. Wanna head up?"

Cairo nodded, trying to mask the sudden rush of nerves that came with stepping into your space.

Your house was warm and inviting, a little messy but in a lived-in, comfortable way. It felt like you—authentic, with no need to impress anyone.

The smell of dinner still lingered in the air, and the faint hum of music from a room down the hall made it feel all cozy.

You led her to your room, where textbooks and notes were already spread out on your desk. You jumped right into the assignment, eager to help, as always.

But Cairo wasn't paying attention to the pages in front of her. She couldn't focus. All she could see was you—the way your lips moved when you explained something, the way your eyes lit up when you got excited about an idea.

The worst part was how kind you were. It was maddening. You treated her like anyone else, not the untouchable, intimidating Cairo Sweet. And somehow, that made her want you more.

As you sat next to her on the bed, pointing out sections of the text, your knee brushed against hers. It was a small touch, insignificant to you, but it sent a jolt through Cairo's body. Her pulse quickened, heat rising in her cheeks, and she hated it—hated how out of control she felt around you.

But even more than that, she hated how much she liked it.

You leaned in closer to show her a note you'd written, and your breath was warm against her skin.

She barely registered the words you were saying. All she could focus on was the way you smelled, the warmth of your body next to hers, and the soft brush of your hand as you passed the paper back and forth.

She wasn't used to feeling this way—this fluttering in her stomach, the racing heartbeat that accompanied every one of your smiles.

You were turning her on, plain and simple. Cairo wasn't used to being the one who got flustered, but there she was, chasing after your attention, craving every little bit of affection you gave without even realizing it.

And it wasn't just about how hot you were, though that was undeniable. It was the way you treated her like she was just another person—no special treatment, no fear or awe in your eyes. You treated her like a friend, and somehow, that drove her insane.

For the first time, Cairo felt like she was the one chasing after something, and she hated the feeling.

Yet she needed to be closer, to figure out why you made her feel this way—why you made her feel so out of control.

But you were all she could think about.

Even days after the study session, it was still there—on repeat in her mind. Every smile, every move you made. She couldn't stop thinking about you, no matter how much she tried. It was getting under her skin, and she hated it.

Like now, when Cairo sat on the edge of her bed, tapping ash off her cigarette into the dish beside her.

The smoke curled around her, thick and slow, as she took another drag, frustration bubbling in her chest. Ever since that night, she couldn't get you out of her head, and it was starting to piss her off.

From her spot in the corner, Winnie watched, an amused grin tugging at her lips. "You're still thinking about her, aren't you?"

Cairo shot her a sharp glare, but Winnie didn't back down. Of course she didn't; she never did.

"I'm not thinking about her," Cairo said, though the way her words rushed out betrayed her. "I just don't get it. I don't need to think about anyone. People think about me. That's how it works."

Winnie raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying it. "Uh-huh. So why are you pacing around your room, smokin' like it's the end of the world? You've been talking about her nonstop."

"I'm not pacing," Cairo snapped, even though she had been standing and moving restlessly just a moment ago. She sat back down quickly, as if to prove a point. "And I'm not talking about her."

Winnie just chuckled. "Right. You're totally not obsessed with her or anything. Must be why you asked her to help with your English assignment—because you suddenly forgot how to ace essays."

Cairo scowled, taking another drag before blowing the smoke out through her nose. "I didn't forget anything. I just wanted to see what she had to offer. You know, test the competition."

"Oh, totally. You're all about fair competition," Winnie teased, leaning back with her arms crossed. "Except you've always been top dog, Cairo. Why do you care?"

Cairo stood up again, too worked up to sit still, pacing back and forth as she waved her cigarette in the air. "I don't care! That's the point! She's just this—this girl, right? She's new, she's hot, I get it. But so what? So am I. If I wanted her, trust me, Winnie, I'd get her without even trying. It's not like she's some unattainable goddess. I mean, seriously, she's just... just... friendly!"

Winnie snorted. "Oh no, not the deadly sin of friendliness."

"I'm serious!" Cairo shot back. "It's infuriating! She's nice to everyone, and it's like she's not even trying to get on my radar. She doesn't... she doesn't treat me like. You know. Do you know how weird that is for me, Winnie? She just smiles and moves on like it's nothing. And I'm supposed to be okay with that?"

Winnie grinned, clearly enjoying Cairo's meltdown. "Sounds like you want her attention real bad."

"No!" Cairo's voice rose in frustration, and she jabbed her cigarette in the air to punctuate her point. "I don't! I just—if I wanted her attention, she'd give it to me. Trust me, I've done it a hundred times before. But it's like... I don't know. I don't need her to fawn over me, but she should at least... notice me more."

"Sure. Because that totally doesn't sound like you're into her or anything," Winnie said, leaning forward with a knowing look. "You're just mad because she doesn't act like your little fan club."

Cairo groaned, dropping back onto her bed. "I'm not into her, Winnie! God, I can't believe you're even suggesting that. She's cute, I'll give you that, but that's it. That's all it is."

"You sure about that? You've been talking about her for the last 20 minutes."

Cairo waved her off. "I'm venting! That's different. I just don't get how she can walk around acting like I'm no big deal. Like, I could snap my fingers and—"

"—and what, Cairo?" Winnie cut her off, smirking. "You can't force her to like you. And let's be real, you wouldn't even have to try this hard if you didn't care so much."

Cairo took one last drag, stubbing the cigarette out in the dish, her eyes narrowing. "I'm telling you, if I wanted her, I'd have her. She's not some puzzle I can't figure out. It's just... a challenge. That's all."

Winnie shook her head, laughing softly. "Keep telling yourself that."

But even as Cairo tried to convince herself—and Winnie—that she didn't care, deep down, there was that gnawing feeling. The one that made her think of you just a little too often, the one that made her wonder why your smile lingered in her mind long after you were gone.

The next morning, Cairo stood in front of her mirror, staring at her reflection with a level of concentration she wasn't used to.

She had always been effortless—never needing to try when it came to her looks. But now, she cared. A lot more than she wanted to admit.

The black skirt she chose hugged her hips perfectly, the tiny stripes adding just enough detail to keep it interesting. She paired it with a white shirt, left a little loose, and she made the deliberate decision to go braless underneath.

Just in case you noticed.

Her jean jacket hung over her shoulders, completing the look. It was casual but... intentional. And she hated that she was doing this. But at the same time, she didn't stop.

Winnie stood in the doorway, watching Cairo with an amused smirk. "So... this is what it's come to, huh?"

Cairo shot her a warning glance, but Winnie just laughed. "What? I'm just saying. You've been in front of that mirror for the past twenty minutes, and now you're wearing a skirt? Since when do you care about impressing anyone?"

"I don't," Cairo muttered, brushing a hand through her hair, making sure it looked just the right amount of messy. "I just like this outfit, that's all."

Winnie stepped into the room, folding her arms as she watched Cairo fuss over the details. "Sure, sure. And the whole 'no bra' thing? Totally for comfort, right?"

Cairo's eyes flickered toward Winnie in the mirror, a small frown tugging at her lips. "What's your point?"

"My point is," Winnie said with a grin, "you've never dressed like this for anyone. You're trying to impress her. It's obvious."

Cairo scoffed, straightening up. "I'm not trying to impress anyone, least of all her. I just like looking good. What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing," Winnie teased, leaning against the dresser. "Except you've always looked good without even trying, and now... you're trying. Hard."

Cairo didn't respond, choosing instead to grab her bag and sling it over her shoulder. "You don't know what you're talking about."

Winnie shook her head, still smirking. "Right. Well, good luck with your 'I don't care' look. But if I didn't know better, I'd say you're hoping she notices."

Cairo rolled her eyes but couldn't help the small flare of nerves twisting in her stomach.

She hated that Winnie was right. She was hoping you'd notice. Every time she saw you, your outfits amazed her. Whether it was something casual or a bit more dressed up, you always looked effortlessly put together. It drove her insane how you could look so good without even trying.

And now here she was, doing the exact same thing—hoping her choice of clothes might catch your eye, maybe make you see her in a different light. She was Cairo Sweet, after all. People noticed her. You were supposed to notice her.

As she left the house, Winnie's laughter echoed behind her, but Cairo shook it off. She wasn't doing this for anyone. Especially not you.

But when she saw you that day, dressed in your usual impeccable style, her heart skipped a beat. You looked perfect, as always. And despite her best efforts to play it cool, she couldn't help but wonder if you noticed her, too.

As the day progressed, Cairo tried to play it cool, but the nervous energy buzzed through her.

Each time she caught sight of you in the hall, laughter bubbling around you, she felt that familiar flutter in her stomach. Today, you looked particularly stunning, and it made her second-guess everything.

Finally, at lunch, she found herself sitting across from you, her heart racing as you casually chatted with friends. She watched you, captivated by the way you effortlessly engaged everyone around you. It was infuriating and exhilarating all at once.

"Hey," you said, turning your attention to her. "Nice outfit."

Cairo's breath caught, and for a moment, she felt the world around them fade. "Thank you," she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. The compliment, though simple, sent a rush through her, igniting that gnawing feeling in her chest.

You smiled at her, and something inside Cairo shifted. Maybe she wasn't just another face in the crowd to you. Maybe there was something more there—something she had been too scared to acknowledge until now.

As lunch continued, the laughter and chatter faded into the background. Cairo found herself lost in the moment, caught between wanting to impress you and the fear of showing too much. But as you engaged her in conversation, your eyes sparkling with interest, she felt a sense of hope blooming within her.

For the first time, she allowed herself to think that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something special. Something that went beyond manipulation and appearances. Something real.

And in that moment, as you smiled at her, Cairo knew she was willing to take that risk.

[prettyfilmz]

SWEET LIKE CANDY • JEY USO

author’s note: did someone say new mini series ? 👀 well yes! although writing is gonna be quite slow due to school starting backup, I wanted to leave you guys with something cute starring our 2025 royal rumble winner jey uso🤭 forgive me for not giving you smut in this first part but trust me when I say it’ll be worth it in the long run. I hope you enjoy this my loves, and happy reading💗 (p.s. I made a playlist to go along with it, you can shuffle it up too🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ you can find it here)

synopsis: in which a celebration at the strip club leads to the beginning of a love affair between a wrestler and a dancer.

pairing: jey uso x black fem oc!cherise aka candy

tags: 18+ (there’s no smut but still has suggestive themes), slow burn, drinking, lap dances, lewd conversations, teasing, lots of touching, kissing, pet names (baby, mama, pretty girl. baby girl), flirty banter, jey falls for her at first glance.

word count: 2k words (somethin’ short n sweet😌)

The bass reverbs through the strip club, rattling the walls like a second heartbeat. The air was thick with marijuana smoke, spilled drinks, and anticipation. It was the kind of place that dared you to loosen up, a melting pot of the desperate, the indulgent, and those just looking to forget about the realities of their day to day lives.

Jey, sitting on the edge of a low velvet couch, nursed a glass of hennessy, his dark brown eyes surveying the scene with feigned disinterest. Jimmy, on the other hand, leaned back beside him, grinning like the damn Cheshire cat, a few shots in and already loving every second of the night.

“This the spot, Uce,” Jimmy drawled, gesturing at the stage. “Told you. Ain’t no better way to celebrate your Rumble win than seeing a few bad ones tearing it up on the stage.”

Jey wasn’t convinced. He leaned forward, elbows on his jean covered knees, his silver chain glinting in the low light. “Man, you know this ain’t my scene. I only came ‘cause y’all don’t shut up. Coulda stayed home, kicked my feet up, and played my game.”

Jimmy clicked his tongue. “Nah, Uce. This is a night of celebration. Tonight’s the night we get you to let loose.” He raised his glass in a mock toast.

Across the room, Trinity —or her stage name called her—Naomi. The long-legged, dark skinned goddess with waist-length black & neon green braids and thighs to die for worked her magic. She straddled some middle-aged white guy in a button-down, grinding with a confidence that made her the club’s crown jewel. She caught Jimmy’s eye and gave a sly smile with a wink for good measure.

“Yo, there she go!” Jimmy grinned, practically bouncing in his seat. “My girl, Trin. You see that, Jey? That’s art. Respect the glow.”

Jey rolled his eyes but couldn’t help smirking. “Bruh, you actin’ like she your girl for real.”

“She is though,” Jimmy shot back, the grin never leaving his face. And it wasn’t a joke. He wasn’t even subtle about it. Whenever Jimmy showed up, Trinity made a beeline for him, and they always disappeared into the VIP section.

Jey chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “You wild.”

But his attention shifted when the next dancer strolled onto the stage.

“Alright fellas, hold onto your Benjamin’s ‘cause it’s about to get sweet up in here! Coming to the stage, she’s sugar, spice and everything nice, with curves so delicious you’ll forget your own name. Be careful though, she might leave you with some cavities by the end of the night. Give it up for the lovely Candy!”

The second she stepped out, the crowd of men leaned forward, like hungry sharks. She wasn’t like the others though. She was new, fresh-faced, and a bundle of nerves. But that didn’t matter right this second. She played the part, masking her shyness behind a seductive smile that could melt anyone with a pulse.

Candy was beyond gorgeous. Her smooth, brown skin shimmered under the stage lights, and the crimson two-piece she wore clung to every dip and swell of her body. Her hips swayed to the R&B song, deliberate, teasing.

“Goddamn,” Jimmy whistled low. “New girl got somethin’ fierce, huh?”

Jey was speechless, he couldn’t look away. Her curly hair was pulled into a updo, soft coils framing her soft, heart-shaped face. Full lips painted glossy pink parted into a playful pout as she ran her hands down her figure, playing to the crowd. But her eyes. Those big, dark, and doe-like eyes held a hint of innocence she couldn’t quite shake.

“Yeah, somethin’ for sure,” Jey muttered under his breath, heat pooling low in his groin.

Candy noticed him immediately. She was used to clients ogling her—most of them practically drooled or disgustingly grabbed their crotch in front of her—but he was different. He had this calm, magnetic energy, like he was letting her come to him. It made her stomach flip, even as she forced her most sultry grin.

When her set ended, and the applause faded, Candy slipped off the stage. But not before glancing over her shoulder and locking eyes with Jey.

♡

"You heard who's out there tonight, right?" Trinity grinned, her deep brown eyes glinting with mischief as she adjusted the thin straps of her bra. "You about to be real blessed, baby girl."

Cherise arched a perfectly sculpted brow, feigning disinterest. "Oh yeah? Who?"

Trinity sucked her teeth, nudging her shoulder. "Don’t act cute, Cher. The man of the damn hour is in VIP. Your VIP, might I add."

Cherise played coy, but her stomach did a little flip. She’d already heard that Jey Uso was here tonight. And apparently, he was her very first private dance.

Her pulse raced.

"He cute or whateva,” she said, glossing over the fact that she was a fan. She’d watched him claw his way to being a singles star. And now he was here, in her club, about to have her in his lap.

Trinity laughed, low and knowing. "Oh, he real cute, baby. And he got that mouth on him. Knows how to talk to a woman, make her feel good." She winked, nudging her shoulder with her own.

Cherise rolled her eyes but smiled. "You sound like you speaking from experience."

"Nah, Jimmy got my full attention," Trinity purred, licking her lips. "Speaking of which, you know that man is gonna be deep in this pussy before the night over. So if you hear me make any noise, mind your business."

Cherise giggled, shaking her head. "Y’all so damn nasty."

Trinity flipped her braids over her shoulder. "Mmhmm, and you 'bout to be nasty too. Just don’t let Jey have you falling, mama. These wrestlers? They dangerous."

Cherise smirked. "I can handle myself."

Trinity just laughed, giving her ass a playful slap before strutting off toward VIP.

Cherise exhaled slowly, fixing the sheer, sparkly robe draped over her curvy figure.

Showtime.

♡

The VIP room was warm, lit with soft purple lights that shined against the dark leather couch and mirrored walls. Private, sensual. The kind of space that invited sin.

Jey sat in the middle of it, legs spread, shades still covering his eyes, hands resting on his thick thighs.

He looked too good, too comfortable, like he belonged there with his chains glinting under the dim lighting. And he was waiting for her.

Cherise stepped inside, hips swaying slow, the confidence she wore so well settling around her like perfume. She was used to this, knew the game, knew how to keep them entertained just enough to keep ‘em hungry. But this was Jey.

And she already knew—he was different.

Jey’s gaze dragged up her body, slow like drizzling honey, lingering on her thick thighs, the way her curves filled out the soft red lace she had on. He smirked, licking his lips. "Damn, mama… that’s what they lettin’ you walk around in back here?"

Cherise stopped in front of him, rolling her hips to the bass-heavy R&B music vibrating through the walls. "You like it, baby?”

"Shit…" Jey let his head tilt back against the couch, eyes dark, hooded. "I love it."

Cherise bit back a grin. "Flatterin’ me ain’t gon’ get you nothin’ extra, baby."

"Who said I was tryna get somethin’ extra?" He grinned. "I’m just speakin’ my truth.”

She let her hands trail over chest, feeling the solid warmth of him and the occasional thump of his heartbeat. "Mmm…I bet you be runnin’ game on every girl in here.”

"Nah." Jey licked his lips. "I’on even be in places like this, baby. My brother dragged me."

"Mmhm." She slid onto his lap, her thighs bracketing his, their faces inches apart. "So if I ask the bouncers how many girls you pulled back here, they gon’ say none?"

Jey exhaled a laugh, fingers flexing on her hips. "They gon’ tell you I been sittin’ in that VIP all night, mindin’ my business."

Cherise hummed, her fingers playing at the chain around his neck. "So what makes me special then?"

Jey tilted his head, watching her close. "You tell me, baby girl." His voice was deep, lazy, smooth as melted honey. "I ain’t the one who picked this dance. You did."

She smirked. "That’s cute."

"Ain’t it?" His grip on her hips tightened, dragging her a little closer. "Nah, for real, I can tell. You move different. You one of them girls that don’t let just anybody dude here, huh?"

"Mm-mm." Cherise dragged her nails lightly over soft curls on the back of his neck. "I’m picky."

"Yeah?" His fingers slid up her back, teasing at the base of her spine. "How I make the cut then?"

"I dunno…” She let her lips brush his jaw, just barely. "Maybe I got a thing for wrestlers."

Jey chuckled, low and deep, squeezing her waist. "You watch me, huh?"

"I keep up."

"Ain’t that somethin’." He leaned in, pressing his nose against her cheek. "And here I was thinkin’ I had to make you a fan."

"Mmm, you still might have to work for it." She pressed a soft kiss to his jaw, slow and teasing, right before she rolled her hips against his.

Jey sucked in a breath, his grip turning just a little rougher. “Aye, don’t play wit’ me, pretty girl.”

"Who’s playin’?" She dragged her lips down his throat, slow and deliberate, her hands traveling up his body, feeling the soft tonedness of his stomach. "You like that, Joshua?"

Jey froze.

His hands tensed on her ass, and she felt the shift, the way his whole body reacted to the way his real name left her lips.

"Damn…" He exhaled a quiet laugh, pressing his forehead to hers. "That’s how we doin’ it, huh?”

"Mmm…" She kissed the corner of his mouth. "That’s how I’m doin’ it."

"You somethin’ else, Candy…” His lips grazed hers, barely there, his breath warm against her mouth. "You gon’ drive me crazy, ain’t you?"

"Guess you’ll have to wait and see."

Jey groaned, squeezing her thigh. "You know what’s wild?"

“Enlighten me.”

"You sittin’ on me, talkin’ shit, got me damn near ready to risk everything in this bitch… and you still ain’t tell me your name."

Cherise laughed, slow and sweet, sliding a hand up his throat to his jaw. “You ain’t ask right."

"Oh, so I gotta ask nice?" His lips ghosted over hers again, teasing, taunting, barely touching but still driving her crazy. "That what you want, baby girl?"

"Mmm… maybe…" She let her tongue flick out, just barely tasting his lower lip.

Jey growled, deep in his throat, and finally…finally closed the space, his mouth capturing hers in a kiss that was slow, deep, and damn near dangerous.

Cherise melted into it, letting herself enjoy the way he tasted—Hennessy, something minty, something just Jey. His grip on her waist turned possessive, fingers digging in the flesh of her ass, rolling her just right against him.

His tongue slid against hers, slow and deliberate, like he was trying to memorize her taste.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Time’s up!"

They both froze.

Jey groaned, pulling back, licking his lips like he was pissed about the interruption. "Damn…"

Cherise smirked, slipping off his lap, dragging her fingers down his chest as she stood. "Guess you’ll have to come back if you wanna finish."

Jey leaned back, legs still spread, watching her. "You somethin’ else, girl."

She paused at the door, hesitated then turned back, biting her lip. "Cherise."

"Huh?"

"That’s my name."

Jey exhaled a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he watched her walk to the door. She gave him one last look with a small smile perched on her kiss-swollen lips, “Get home safe, Joshua.” and finally exited the room.

"Cherise…" he repeated under his breath, the taste of her cherry flavored lip gloss still plaguing his taste buds in the most amazing way. "Yeah, I’ma see you again, baby girl.”

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[kakiastro]

Jupiter + the type of husband you will have

Hey yall! It literally took me a couple of weeks to make this post because I believe I’m experiencing burnout 😫 I think I’m going to take a mini break😅anyway, I hope you had a an amazing holiday!! Today I’m going to be talking about the traits and type of husband you will have based on your Jupiter.

Jupiter traditionally rules the husband. For those who are seeking a husband or husband-like partner, Jupiter is the planet to look at.

Look at your:

1. Jupiter sign

2. Jupiter degree

3. Jupiter house placement

4. Jupiter aspects

Also look at your Jupiter persona chart for deeper details as well!

Jupiter sign and house breakdowns:

Aries/1h

- may love to wear athletic brand outfits, have tattoos, prominent forehead, may have bangs or hair just cover their forehead, thick eyebrows, strong sex appeal to them

-their bold and confident

-may work in military, law enforcement, medical field dealing with lab work(blood draws, blood disease researcher), entrepreneurship and being the boss, welding or anything dealing with metals, butcher, working in a gun store.

-could be athletic or loves the gym

-loud or outgoing

-may lack impatience and tend to be impulsive

-always on the go, they have to always be doing something

-loves hot or spicy food

-may love debates and may come off as argumentative

-risk takers, they make quick decisions based on impulse. This can can either back fire or work in their favor LoL

Taurus/ 2h

-may have Venusian look to them so curly hair, smooth skin, very pretty. They may look like they can be a model, they look good on camera. Might have a mole, birth mark or a tattoo on their neck, something about their neck stands out. They’ll have an attractive voice

-money matters such as dealing with money by working in a bank. Working in the culinary industry so owning/working in a restaurant, working for a company that deals with food. Working in real estate or in the housing industry, working the arts such as fashion, painting.

-may be stubborn and like to take their time in doing things

-loves going out to eat especially to their favorite restaurants. If food is involved, they’re going!

-very sensual, loves to wear good smelling fragrances, dressing nice. These are the type of husbands that loves to buy flowers for you just because.

-loves physical touch such as holding hands, cuddling, arm around the shoulder types.

-very charming, may have a lot of friends but only a few close ones.

-loves passion and romance

-listening to lots of music

Gemini/3h

- you may meet them through a close friend, siblings, someone close to your neighborhood, library, school, they can be a former or current classmate

- they may have a unique laugh that catches your attention, may have smile that appears mischievous, may wear glasses for reading or prescriptions, messy hair do

-loves to talk as long as it’s airy and fun

-speaking of fun, they’re down for whatever, very outgoing person.

-may have lots of friends or know lots of people

-loves to read or write books or blogs

Cancer/4h

-may have a prominent chest, moon face that’s round or crescent shape, pouty lips, big round watery eyes. They may be wearing comfy clothing

-can come from a close knit family or they are family oriented. Can be close to his mom or has motherly figures in their life.

-may prefer to be at home

-may be proud of their ancestral roots and would want that displayed in there home

-loves home cooked meals

-very private person

Leo/5h

-Leo energy has a strong aura, they give A list celebrity energy so you may noticed them right away due to that, something about there hair may stand out to you. Likes dressing and looking good

-have a lighthearted warmness to them like their ruler the Sun

-may be well known, not necessarily famous (although they could be) but they have a lot of friends or they’re known for something.

-really artistic and love the arts such as theater, entertainment, dancing. They could also work in these fields

-may be intuned into there inner child, not necessarily childish but they know how to have fun

-may love children. Work with children or children is apart of their lives.

-may be overly dramatic about certain situations in their life

Virgo/6h

-may work in the medical field or is interested in medical stuff

-daily routines are important! These are the type of husbands who have a scheduled routine everyday lol

-may be workaholics, work is important to these hubbies. Now work doesn’t always have to mean their career/job either, working around the house, doing a project, fixing a car. They’re always doing some type of work!😅

-just like Gemini, virgoes love to read as well. The difference is Virgo loves to read things that has lots of detail. They need to know the who and why while Gemini just need the overall story and they can fill in the details themselves lol

-can be critical and judgy, mostly of themselves though, they can project on others if they’re not self aware.

-health is important to them! They may read up on different dietary recipes that can improve help.

-they either love animals to a fault or run away from them. There’s no in-between 😆

-could be managers or have a lot of co-workers as friends

Libra/7h

-very elegant and put together. May wear cologne or nice smelling body wash

-very charming indidvial, know how to swoon you

-flirtyyyyyy

-don’t ask them where they want to go eat because they don’t know😫it’s best to just remember their favorite food and go from there Lol

-may be business oriented or wants to own a business

-partnership is very important to them. Libra is a people person so close relationships are ideal

-doesn’t like unfairness at all. If you’ve been mistreated, they are the type to defend you if they feel like you’re being treated unfairly. They’re very much social justice warriors

-having some sort of balance in there life is key!

- may also like fashion things

-family may also be important

Scorpio/8h

-intesnse stare. You may feel intimidated by them at first but really are sweethearts when you get to know them

-there really private people, they don’t trust others easily at all. Once you have their trust then then you have there heart forever

-power dynamics with friends, family, lover may be themes

-they have sexual appeal

-they may have strong jealous tendencies. If they are self aware and put in the work to address these feelings then they are fine not if their the crazy jealous type, that’s not good and leave

-money may also be a theme, shared finances

-loves the color black

-may work in mortuary science, funerals, graveyard, taxidermist, finances, psychology, therapy, detective, forensics

Sagittarius/9h

-may be from a different culture, city or country from you

-may work in overseas, as a judge, historian, in a church, as a pilot/airline employee , cruise ship, writer, professor

-loves traveling, may have a lot of knowledge on different cultural backgrounds

-religious or is interested in religion. They could study theology

-these people love adventures, no matter how big or small it is the adventure is. Going to target can be an adventure because they’ll make it one 😅

-love reading books especially books that educational or something that broadens their minds to different ideals and ethics

-May have some good lucking legs 🦵. They may have a history of doing track or love running/jogging

Capricorn/10h

-there may be an age gap and it doesn’t have to be a huge one. Maybe a few years older. They can also be very mature or has a lot of life experience for someone their age.

-very ambitious, they don’t climb ladders, they climb mountains and will make it to the top every time

-respect and status is important to them. It doesn’t always mean fame status but status in a “I just want people to look up to me in a respectful way.” They may be managers or bosses, they can just carry that energy as well

-they may look put together, clean clothes that matches, hair groomed. They just look like they have their life together even if it’s currently a mess😅

-they have a jawline that was crafted by the Gods 🤌🏾

-family is important to them as well! Building a solid foundation that can be passed on to the next generation is a huge thing for them. They may be the patriarch of the family

-very close with their grandparents especially grandma. If their still alive and well, You’ll probably meet their granny before their parents

Aquarius/11h

-may have started off as acquaintances, then really good friends, not thinking much about dating until feelings starts to develope

-yall could of met while on a dating app.

-this is a cute, adorable, quirky, and weird husband. They may have different interest than you but that’s what you love about them!

-these partners are the type who will give you your space if you need it, they’ll actually encourage it!

-they may know lots of people and you’ll meet lots of new people through them.

-rules? What’s that? Lol they don’t mind breaking a few if they feel the need too. These people definitely live their life by the beat of their own drum.

-may be involved with humanitarian work, tech, science, astrology

Pisces/12h

-your connection my feel “divine” or like this person was handpicked for you specifically. There’s a spiritual connection between you two. You may dream a lot about each other.

-may also be from an unknown or foreign culture or country.

-water related things may be a theme such as the beach/swimming in the ocean, taking a cruise, kayaking, yacht, traveling to a water based city like Venice, Italy

-spiritually discussions can be part of your relationship

-creativify such as singing, writing songs or filming could be careers. Also being a healer like a spiritual teacher

-you may worship the ground they walk on and put them on a pedestal. Just try to make sure you don’t wear colored glasses and see them for who they are right now and not who you want them to be

-telepathic connection

Any married people here? Does some of this describe your hubby?

I’m not married yet but when I do, I’ll reblog this and let yall know 🫡

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Not a Word 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a life in hiding, away from your father and the world, until a man decides to drag you into the light. (non-verbal reader)

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: 😻.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You hear your father in the garage. It’s a comfort knowing he isn’t in the house. You’ve learned to navigate so that you rarely run into him. The fact of your existence only ever seems to irk him. 

That day, there’s a low rumble between the clank and clunk of his tools. You’re not sure it’s the engine or something else. The last time you glimpsed inside the garage, the engine wasn’t even in that old Bronco he’s worked on for seven years. 

You rub smooth the lines in your forehead and give a long blink. You’ve been squinting at the diamond art for much too long. You sit up and roll your shoulders. You need a break. 

As you emerge from your room, you feel guilty. A break from what? Doing nothing. That’s what your dad always says. Then he laughs and finds something to throw at you. 

You take his lunch box from the floor by the shoe mat and bring it to the kitchen. You open it up and clean out all the containers. Those things you do, as small as they are, like cleaning and making his meals, aren’t enough. He doesn’t fail to remind you of that. 

You dump the uneaten crust from his ham and cheese sandwich as the door from the garage clatters open and lets in the smell of oil and dirt. You turn your attention to the sink as you put the container with the rest. It’s only as you flip the faucet on that you realise the steps aren’t your dad’s. 

“Scuse me,” Sy says. “Don’t mean to bother, but, uh, had a bit of an accident.” 

You face him as he holds out the front of his tee shirt. You gulp. There’s a smear of shiny oil across it, ready to drip onto the floor. Your eyes round. 

“I can clean it in the bathroom, I see you’re busy.” 

He goes to turn away and you put your hands up. The oil won’t come out if he just wipes it into the shirt. You would know since you deal with your dad’s stained jeans.  

He nears as you sidle down to grab the baking soda from the cupboard. He looms, his shadow moving in your peripheral, and you shift the faucet to off. You grab a paper towel and turn to him. You hesitate to reach for him, that seems too much but before you can make a move, he peels his shirt off. 

You flutter your lashes and point to the counter. He lays the shirt out and you open the box of baking soda. He stands back and watches. Heat trickles down your back as you focus on the task. You sprinkle the powder over his shirt. 

You let it soak up as much as it can then blot daintily. 

“You’re clever,” he muses. “Helpful.” 

You shrug. 

“How lucky’s that daddy of yours, huh? You out here cleaning all his mess. You make his lunch?” He peeks over at the sink and you follow his gaze. You nod. “Hm, think he’d be nicer then, wouldn’t ya? Well, I know him, he ain’t a nice fella.” 

You return your attention to his shirt. If your daddy isn’t so nice, why does he come around? You wouldn’t ask even if you could. You can barely concentrate with him exposed like that. 

Your eyes dart over in a fleeting peek. His chest is hair and his stomach thick, his arms too. You’re always aware of how big he is but at that moment, he seems even larger. You look at his shirt. It’ll need more time to soak and wash. 

“Could wash it with the hose, don’t wanna ruin your machine,” he offers as if reading your mind. 

You frown and shake your head. You hold up your finger and flit away with his shirt. You put stain remover on it and dump it in the machine. You set the cycle then hesitate. What will he wear now? 

Your dad isn’t as big. He’s a pretty small guy. He might have something... 

You hurry into the closet of old things and search around. There’s one of those tees he got from a case of Labatts. They always pack the XLs and nothing else. It has some sports team logo on it. 

You go back to the kitchen and offer it to Sy. He crosses to you and accepts it with a smile, “thanks, sugar. That’s mighty nice.” His fingertips brush yours.  

He unfolds the shirt and shakes it out. He pulls it over his head and your eyes crawl down his torso unintentionally. You back up a step as he tugs down the hem, though it hangs short of his belt. Even that is too small for him. 

“You’re not scared of me, are ya?” He asks as he curls his shoulders as if to make himself smaller. 

You shake your head. Shy is all. You’re not eager to mingle with anyone. Nor they, you. 

“You know, I might have a word with your daddy. He shouldn’t be so nasty to ya. ‘Specially all the work you put in.” 

You shake your head frantically and clasp your hands. You know better than that. Even if he’s trying to be nice, it’s the worst thing he can do. 

“What’s wrong? Huh? Just wanna tell him what a good girl ya are,” he crosses his arms and seems to double in size. 

You pout and press your hands together. You cower and takes another step back. His expression turns dire. 

“Sorry, sugar, hope I didn’t upset ya there. I was only... only bein’ nice, ya know? Seems you’re not used to all that.” He drops his hands to his hips. “Fine then, I’ll just have to save them sweet words for you, huh?” 

You look down and chew your lip. You’re not used to the attention. Your dad’s other friends, if you can call them that, just ignore you or laugh at his jokes about you. You nod and turn, gesturing to the sink. You walk up to it, clinging to the excuse to get away. 

“Yeah, I know, you workin’ hard,” he praises. “I’ll be outta ya way now.” 

You bob your head and turn the tap on again. You work at scrubbing the containers, waiting and listening for him to go. When he does, you can breathe again. You’re not so sure why he’s being nice. Not like you can do much but stare. 

💘

When your dad’s at work, you’re as close to peace as you’ve ever been. There’s still that constant restlessness that follows you. The gnawing reality that time is passing you by. That you have no purpose. No direction. 

You envy others. That they have a reason. That they have everything you don’t. They have other people, ones that care, not those burdened with them; they have important work to do; they have fun things to celebrate; graduations, new jobs, marriages. They have voices and you remain unheard. 

You busy yourself with the tidying when he isn’t there. If you try to clean with him around, he only antagonizes you. There’s a roast out for dinner. It will last a few days. Most times, you lose your appetite. You spend all day craving and making the food then lose all desire the moment it’s before you. 

The small pleasures you once treasured fade with each day that starts and ends the same. You can’t feel too bad for yourself. Your dad doesn’t have to keep you. You’re an adult now. Maybe he’ll never say so, or even show it, but he must care, right? 

You finish mopping and start on chopping up the potatoes. You arrange them in the roasting pan around the slab of beef. Then carrots and celery. You save the onions for last because they make you cry. You’re saved from tears by the rumble of thunder on the horizon. 

Curiously, you set the knife down and go to the window. Would your dad be home early? Some days, they shut down the shop when business is slow. 

It’s not him but you recognise the grating on the truck’s nose. The large truck sends up dirt and gravel as it cuts across the worn roadway. Your confusion floods to panic and you rush out the front door.

Is your father hurt? Why else would Sy be here? 

You hover on the top step as he grinds to a stop and shuts the behemoth truck off. The driver’s door creaks as it opens and Sy jumps down. Instead of his usual camo cargo shorts and sweat-dampened tee, he wears a button-up with short sleeves and a pair of brown slacks. It even looks like he combed his beard. 

Your face twists in a grimace. What’s going on? Why is he here? 

He reaches back into the truck and brings out something behind his back. You can’t see it as he keeps his arm bent behind him and shuts the door. He grins and walks up to the house as you watch. 

“How’s it goin’?” He asks brightly. 

You blink. You look at his collar, the top button straining against his thick neck. You lower your gaze to your loose blue tee and barrel jeans. You’re dressed like a laundry line. Your clothes offer no shape, nothing. They just do the job. 

“I, uh, I wanted to surprise ya, and uh, I was thinkin’ ya know, this place deserves a bit of colour,” he chuckles then clears his throat, “and you deserve good things, so, uh, here.” 

He reveals the flowers from behind his back and you blanch. You stare at the dainty petals, white with violet edges. They are pretty. Too pretty for this place or for you. Besides, why would he do that? 

“You don’t like em? Should I have got roses?” He asks. 

You flinch. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. You come down the steps and cautiously reach for the paper cone. He hands it over and you stare at him. Then you smell them. You think that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

“Smell good?” He asks. 

You peer over the petals at him and nod. You’re not sure how to react. What do you do now? You can’t just leave him out in the yard. You raise your thumb and point it over your shoulder and tilt your head. 

“Sure, I’ll come in,” he accepts. 

He steps forward, a bit too close, and you hop backward up the step. You barely keep from tripping. You get onto the porch and spin around, scurrying to the door. You open the door and step to the side to hold it for him. 

He laughs again, “now, I’m a gentleman, sugar.” 

He grabs the door and gestures you through. You take his directive without pause. You hurry inside and he follows. As he stops to take off his shoes, you continue on into the kitchen. 

You search for an adequate holder for the flowers. You find an old canister and set them in it with some water. His presence lurks behind you. You put the bouquet on the table as he looks around. 

“You cookin’ a fine dinner, huh?” He says. “Like I tell your daddy, he’s a lucky man. Any man’d be lucky to have that waitin’.” 

You shrug. He shifts. 

“I don’t mean to take advantage of your kindness but I was gonna ask ya a favour.” 

You look at him blankly. He reaches in his pocket. He pulls a length of silk. A tie. 

“Couldn’t figure this out,” he explains. “Thought maybe you might...” 

You stare at the tie. You remember tying your daddy’s for your grandma’s funeral. That was a long time ago but you think you could remember. 

You swallow down your nerves and approach him. You take the tie and he glances around. He pushes a chair out and sits. He leans his head back. 

“Just wanna make sure I look good for ya,” he says. 

You flip up his collar and bring the silk around his neck. As you do, your thumb brushes his coarse beard. He hums. 

“Don’t worry bout pullin’ my hair,” he scoffs. “Won’t bother me none.” 

You line up his tie, knuckles brushing his shirt as you go through the steps in your hand. You pull the tie snug and fix hit collar. You step back and he sets his head straight. You hug yourself and give him a questioning look. 

“Ya like your surprise?” He asks. 

You look at the flower then nod. 

“And what about the other?” 

You face him again and your brows draw together. 

“Me,” he snorts. 

You purse your lips and shrug. What does he mean? 

“We’ll wait for your daddy, huh? Then I’ll ask his blessing.” He rests his elbow on the table, “and you’ll have dinner all ready, won’t ya?” 

[fruitsboots]

I'm a nail technician and here's a big list of headcanons about the kinds of clients the TOS Enterprise crew would be!

Kirk:

-shows up on time for appointment but sometimes has to cancel super last minute.

-doesn't bite his nails but picks at them and his cuticles. not enough to bleed or anything but enough that most of his appointment is cuticle work.

- "Cut them short" my guy there's no free edge.

- holds still, uses arm rest appropriately, doesn't stiffen his hands. no polish, just buffed smooth. jokes every time that next time maybe he'll go with a hot pink.

-asks a lot of questions and chats at the beginning of the appointment but ends up getting a little bored by the end.

-always tips very well but doesn't rebook, he'll call you.

Spock:

-doesn't make appointments, just shows up sometimes on slow days and asks to use certain supplies.

-does his own nails and keeps them very nice and neat. nail beds to die for. Nails grow very fast.

-On occasion has been talked into a dark polish and will let someone else do that for him (he's not very good at the application).

-sits a little too stiffly like he's concentrating. speaks when spoken to. doesn't linger long, the smell gives him a headache.

-doesn't tip but you’re not sure if he knows he’s supposed to.

McCoy:

-calls and asks if there’s time for a walk in then shows up later than he tells you but usually has a good excuse.

-Hands are dry as hell from washing them a lot. Worst, driest cuticles. Always gets a split on the edge of his pointer finger.

-Sits too far away from the table, at an angle, hunched, wrists on the armrest and elbows locked. Has to be asked to scoot arms forward a million times.

-Is annoying to work on technically, but fun to chat with. Always turns into a complaint session but in the best way. Wants to know the drama in your life and gives opinions.

- Closes eyes and tries not to doze off during the hand massage. Wipes off all the lotion that he desperately needs.

-Tips alright and always says he’ll come back soon but you know it’ll be another 4 months.

Uhura:

-has a standing appointment every 3 weeks and is never late, sometimes she’ll bring you a drink and apologizes when she doesn’t.

-Did her own nails for a long time and keeps them well manicured between appointments.

-Will (properly!) remove her own gel polish before appointments to save you the trouble.

- Tends to go for lighter, pearlescent shades. Always asks what you have that’s new but then picks one of her go-tos.

- Loves to look at nail art but doesn’t usually get it.

-Super bubbly during appointments, very patient, sits perfectly. Always enthusiastic about the result and gives lots of praise.

-Tips well and takes business cards to give to people.

Chapel:

-Not really supposed to get her nails done but does anyways. Doesn’t have super regular appointments but usually books with Uhura when she does.

-Usually shows up with chipped polish from last time that desperately needed removed 3 weeks ago.

-Gets light/sheer colors.

-Sometimes will book for a gel manicure and then tell you she doesn’t actually want polish this time even tho she needs it. Nice nails beds but they are thin and peel a bit without anything on them.

-Apologizes for no reason multiple times. Thanks you as if it were an inconvenience to do her nails? 

-After a few appointments, she loosens up a bit. Tips decent.

Sulu:

-has gotten his nails done like five times just for fun.

-Keeps them short, not much cuticle work. Why are you here??

- Will get a couple “masculine” designs and isn’t picky about them. “You just do whatever you think will look best :) “

-genuinely fun to have as a client but needs some direction on how to sit etc. can talk about anything.

-Didn’t tip the first time bc he didn’t know and felt bad so he always does, but it’s not much.

Scotty:

-how can one man have so much grease under his nails?

-Has a standing appointment once a month for just a nail trim but should be more like every two weeks.

-Asks questions about nail equipment (UV lamp, e-file, etc).

-Talks a bit during the appointment and then stands around after chatting. Always tips like 2$ but sometimes brings baked goods, etc.

Chekov:

-wanders in with a bruised nail and is like “what can you do for this” nothing dude.

-Leaves and comes back later to buy a gift certificate to give to a girl.

[estellan0vella]

More Than Enough Time: L. Mh Lee Minho x fem!reader (College AU)

WC: 11.6K

CW: Anxiety, Menace Jisung, Secret Simp Minho

General Masterlist SKZ Masterlist Part II

The room is alive with the sound of clinking glasses, murmured conversations, and the occasional burst of laughter that slices through the warm air of the grand banquet hall. The dim, golden glow of chandeliers drips overhead, casting a soft light across the elegantly dressed guests.

You sit at the round table, nervously smoothing your hands over the silk of your champagne-coloured gown. Every so often, your fingers toy with the sapphire-encrusted hairpin holding your hair in place, a gift from your grandmother. It's more than a piece of jewellery; it's a talisman tonight, something to cling to.

Beside you, Jisung, your best friend, fidgets in his seat, drumming his fingers on the table. He's dressed in a sleek black suit that contrasts nicely with his hair, but despite the confident exterior, you know he's just as anxious as you are. But for once, it feels like your nerves are trying to outdo his.

"Fuck, why did I agree to this?" Jisung mutters under his breath, glancing at you with wide eyes. "I swear to God, Y/N, if I have to stand up there and give a speech, I might just throw up all over the stage."

You force a chuckle, though it feels weak in your throat. "Join the club. I feel like my stomach's doing backflips. What if I trip in these shoes? What if I can't say anything at all and I just stand there like a fucking idiot?"

Jisung snorts, giving you a sympathetic look. "We're both fucked."

Across from you, Bang Chan, the Alpha Phi fraternity president, leans back in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. His black hair is slicked back, giving him a polished, suave look that almost distracts from the fact that he's one of the rowdiest guys you know. He gives you both a grin that's way too confident for your liking.

"Relax," Chan says. "You guys are gonna crush it. You wrote that article like badasses, now just get up there and take the damn award."

Jisung glares at him. "Easy for you to say, Mr. Football Star. You literally thrive on people staring at you."

"Exactly," Chan grins wider. "Which is why you should listen to me."

You shift in your seat, glancing around the table. You're surrounded by Alpha Phi members tonight, all of whom seem a lot more comfortable in their skin than you feel in yours.

Hyunjin sits next to Chan, looking ridiculously perfect as always. His long black hair falls just past his shoulders, and he's tapping his fingers rhythmically on the table while staring off into the distance. He's receiving an award tonight too, for something in the arts, and though he looks calm, you can see his jaw clenching every few seconds.

"Stop staring at the program," Hyunjin mutters to you without even glancing your way. "It's not gonna change."

You blink, realizing that you've been staring at the folded piece of paper in front of you, the one listing all the awards for the night. Yours and Jisung's, The Innovative Journalism Award, is still about fifteen minutes away, and the waiting is fucking killing you.

"Fuck," you whisper under your breath, more to yourself than anyone else.

Felix, sitting on the other side of Jisung, notices your stress. He gives you a soft, warm smile, his freckles standing out against his fair skin. "You'll do fine, Y/N. We all believe in you."

"Yeah," Jeongin chimes in from the end of the table. His hair falls slightly into his eyes as he leans forward, resting his chin in his hand. He's getting an award too, something for fashion design. "We all know you're the smartest one here, so just relax, okay?"

You nod, but the knot in your stomach refuses to untangle. It's not just about the award. Sure, winning an award for the article you and Jisung wrote, a deep dive into the theory that Jack the Ripper might have been a woman, is huge.

It's the culmination of months of research, late nights, and too many cups of coffee. But the idea of standing in front of a room full of people, having all eyes on you, waiting for you to say something intelligent... it's suffocating.

Minho, who's been quiet up until now, finally speaks. He's seated directly across from you, his deep cherry red hair gleaming under the soft light of the chandeliers. "You'll be fine," he says simply, his voice calm and steady. "Just breathe."

You meet his gaze for a second longer than you intend to, feeling the weight of his words. Minho is always like this. Quietly confident, never too loud or overbearing. He's the type who can make you feel like everything's going to be okay, even when you're pretty fucking sure it's not.

"You make it sound so easy," you mutter, breaking the eye contact and taking a quick sip of your drink, trying to focus on something else. Anything else.

Hyunjin shifts beside you, his gaze flickering to the stage. "It's easy for Minho because he's never nervous. Must be nice to be so fucking chill all the time."

Minho shrugs, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. "Just a talent, I guess."

Jisung rolls his eyes. "Well, share some of that talent with us because I feel like I'm about to shit myself."

There's a round of laughter at the table, but you can't join in. The knot in your stomach tightens as the minutes tick by. Your hands, now resting on the table, feel clammy. The silk of your gown is suddenly too heavy, clinging to your skin in a way that makes you feel trapped. You know no one else can hear your heart pounding, but it feels deafening in your own ears.

You glance at the stage again, watching as the current award is being presented to some group for their contributions to environmental science. You're not even paying attention to the speech, just counting down the minutes, waiting for your turn. You can feel it creeping up on you. The anxiety. The tightness in your chest, the shallow breaths, the overwhelming need to get the fuck out of this room.

Suddenly, it's too much. The noise, the lights, the heat. You need air. Now.

"I—uh—I need to use the restroom," you stammer, pushing your chair back.

Jisung glances at you, concern flashing in his eyes, but he nods. "You good?"

You nod quickly, too quickly. "Yeah. Just nerves."

Before anyone can stop you, you're on your feet, weaving through the tables and out of the banquet hall. The moment you step into the hallway, the cool air hits your skin, and it's a relief, but only for a second. Your heels click against the marble floor as you make your way down the corridor, your breath coming in shallow gasps now.

You find a small side room and slip inside, closing the door behind you. The silence is almost jarring after the noise of the banquet hall, but you're grateful for it. You lean against the door, pressing one hand to your stomach and the other to your forehead. The room feels like it's spinning, and you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus, trying to breathe.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you whisper to yourself, feeling the panic rising in your chest.

You yank the sapphire hairpin out of your hair, letting your carefully pinned-up style fall apart, the soft strands brushing against your bare shoulders. The pin feels cold in your hand, a grounding sensation, but it's not enough to stop the wave of anxiety crashing over you.

Your stomach twists painfully, and you press harder against it, as if that will somehow make it stop. But it's not working. Nothing's working.

You lean over slightly, bracing yourself on your knees, trying to remember what the hell you're supposed to do in moments like this. Breathe. You're supposed to breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Simple. Easy. Except it's not.

Back in the hall, the crowd shifts with anticipation as the MC steps up to the podium, smiling widely at the gathered guests.

"And now, the recipients of this year's Innovative Journalism Award. For their brilliant work on the investigative article delving into the theory that Jack the Ripper may have been a woman, please welcome Han Jisung and Y/N L/N!"

There's a pause. Jisung's heart nearly jumps out of his chest as he hears your name. He looks over to the seat you left empty minutes ago, feeling the weight of everyone's eyes turning to him.

"Fuck," Jisung mutters under his breath, pushing his chair back and standing up.

The nerves that were already gnawing at him double in intensity. His best friend isn't there to share the load, and now, he's completely on the spot. He glances over at Minho, who's been silently watching him.

Minho, though still seated, leans over slightly. "Where the hell is Y/N?"

Jisung runs a hand through his hair, his heart racing. "She, uh... she went to the restroom or something. She's been freaking out all night. I think she might be having one of her moments, man."

Minho's expression darkens slightly with concern, and he pushes his chair back. "I'll go find her."

"Wait, wait," Jisung hisses, grabbing Minho's wrist as he's about to stand. "What the fuck do I say to them up there?"

Minho glances toward the stage where the MC is starting to look a little confused, waiting for someone to approach. "Make up some bullshit. Tell them she had to take a phone call or something, just so they don't start asking too many fucking questions."

Jisung frowns, his anxiety doubling. "Dude, I can't do this shit on my own."

Minho's eyes soften for a second, something almost rare to see from him. "I know. But you've got this. Just give her the credit she deserves, take the award, and make sure someone films it so she can see it later. Chan will do that. I'll make sure she's okay."

Jisung clenches his fists for a moment, feeling the pressure crushing him. The thought of going up there alone, without you, makes him feel like he's about to pass out. But when he looks into Minho's eyes, he knows he's right. You're the priority right now.

"Alright," Jisung says finally, his voice tight with nerves. "Just... just make sure Y/N's okay, alright? You know how she gets with this kind of shit."

"I'll handle it," Minho nods, his voice low but firm. He claps Jisung on the shoulder. "Now go get the fucking award."

Jisung exhales sharply, watching as Minho slips away from the table, moving swiftly through the hall. He takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of what he has to do next.

"Chan," Jisung mutters to his friend, who is still seated at the table, looking between him and the stage.

"Yeah?"

"Film this for Y/N, alright? Minho's going to find her."

Chan raises an eyebrow but nods, pulling out his phone without a word. Jisung swallows down the rising panic and heads toward the stage, his steps feeling heavy as the crowd watches him.

Minho doesn't waste time as he leaves the banquet hall, moving swiftly down the corridor. His steps echo softly in the quiet hallway, the muffled sounds of the award ceremony still filtering through the door behind him.

He's seen you spiral like this before, and his heart tightens in his chest. You're tough as hell most of the time, but when the anxiety hits, it hits hard. Minho knows that look in your eyes all too well. The panic, the overwhelming urge to escape. He's watched you, time and again, try to fight it, to shove it down, but sometimes, it's just too much.

You're not the type to cry during these moments; that's not how your panic works. Instead, you go silent, withdraw, pull yourself in so tight that it's like you're trying to disappear. Minho's learned to recognize the signs, the little tells. Like how you start fidgeting with your hair or that sapphire hairpin you always wear when you're stressed. The one that belonged to your grandmother. It's your good luck charm, though tonight it seems like it's doing little to stave off the rising storm inside you.

As Minho searches for you, he opens door after door, moving quickly but not frantically. His mind stays focused, methodical. He doesn't need to be panicked; that won't help you. He knows you well enough to know where you'd go in moments like this. Somewhere quiet, somewhere empty.

Finally, he reaches a small room at the end of the hallway, and when he pushes the door open, he sees you.

You're pacing back and forth, your gown swishing gently as you move. One hand is pressed to your forehead, the other to your stomach, like you're trying to physically hold yourself together. Your breathing is shallow, quick, and your eyes are wide with that familiar look of dread.

Minho's heart breaks a little as he watches you. You look so vulnerable, so unlike the confident woman you usually are. Yet, at the same time, there's something undeniably beautiful about you, even now. Even in the middle of your anxiety, you manage to carry a grace that makes his chest tighten for entirely different reasons. But now's not the time for that.

He steps into the doorway and knocks gently on the frame. "Hey, sweetheart," he says softly, using the nickname he's reserved just for you.

You look up, startled at first, but then you see it's Minho. A small, shaky breath leaves your lips. "Hey, Minho," you murmur, your voice quieter than usual.

Minho takes a few steps into the room, closing the door behind him, sealing off the rest of the world. "You doing alright?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

"Yeah... I'm fine," you lie, but the strain in your voice gives you away. "I just... I don't want to go up there."

He nods, stepping closer to you, not crowding your space but just enough to make sure you know he's there. "I know," he says quietly.

He reaches out, gently placing his hand on the back of your neck, his fingers lightly brushing the soft skin there. His thumb traces over your pulse point, and he can feel how fast your heart is racing.

"It's okay. Jisung's up there right now, telling them you had to step out for an important phone call. No one's gonna make a big deal about it."

You blink at him, processing his words. "He did?"

"Yeah," Minho confirms, his voice soothing. "Chan's filming it too, so you'll still get to see the moment you're credited for the work. Don't worry about it. You don't need to put yourself through that shit."

You let out a small breath, your shoulders sagging with relief. The pressure in your chest eases slightly, though the tightness in your stomach remains. Minho's thumb continues its gentle rhythm on your neck, grounding you, pulling you back to the present.

Suddenly, Minho pulls you into a hug. His arms wrap around you, firm but gentle, and he presses his cheek against yours. The warmth of his body, the solidness of his embrace, catches you off guard for a second, but then you relax into him. He smells like something warm and comforting, and you breathe it in, your arms coming up to grip his shoulders as you rest your head against his.

He holds you tightly, his cheek still pressed against yours, and rocks you slightly, back and forth. It's the same thing he does for Jisung when he's panicking, the pressure of the hug helping to suppress the nervous system, calming everything down.

Minho doesn't say anything for a while, just keeps holding you, his cheek brushing yours, his thumb still moving gently on the back of your neck. His breathing is calm, steady, and before long, you find your own breathing starting to match his.

The scent of your mango and passionfruit body spray lingers in the air, and Minho can't help but smile a little to himself. He's always adored that scent on you. It's light and sweet, just like you, and being this close to you, holding you like this, it makes his heart pound in his chest. But he pushes those feelings aside. Right now, it's about you, not him.

"You're crashing with Jisung at the frat tonight, right?" Minho asks after a moment, his voice low and calm.

You nod against him. "Yeah, that was the plan."

Minho pulls back just enough to look at you, his hands still resting on your shoulders. "Let's get you back then. Fuck these fancy assholes. You earned your award, you don't need to torture yourself by staying here. Take those torture devices off your feet, too. They're not doing you any favours."

You glance down at your stilettos, your brows furrowing. "I should've worn wedges. I hate these fucking shoes."

Minho chuckles softly, shaking his head. He crouches down in front of you, his fingers already working on the small buckles of your stilettos. "Next time, wear the wedges. I know you prefer them."

You watch as he carefully unbuckles your shoes, slipping them off your feet one at a time. His movements are gentle, and something about the simple act of him helping you out of your heels brings another wave of calm. He stands back up, holding your shoes in one hand, giving you a small smirk. "Better?"

"Yeah," you murmur, wiggling your toes against the cool floor. "Better."

Minho slips his suit jacket off and hands it to you. "Here, put this on. It'll help with the cold when we head back."

You take the jacket, pulling it over your shoulders. It's too big, but the weight of it is comforting, and the scent of his cologne clings to the fabric, making you feel a little more secure.

Before you can say anything else, Minho pulls out his phone and quickly dials a number. He holds the phone up to his ear, waiting for the other line to pick up.

"Yo, Felix," he says when the call connects. "I'm taking Y/N back to the frat. She's okay, but she needs to get out of here. You guys good?"

There's a muffled response on the other end of the line, and Minho nods. "Cool. Tell Jisung I found her, and we'll meet you all back at the house later." Another pause and Minho chuckles softly. "Yeah, I know you were planning on ditching after Hyunjin and Jeongin get their awards. We'll see you guys then."

He hangs up the phone and tucks it back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. "Alright, let's get the hell out of here."

Without waiting for you to argue, Minho crouches down, turning his back toward you. "Get on."

You blink in surprise. "What?"

"Get on," he repeats, glancing over his shoulder at you. "I'm giving you a piggyback. Your feet are gonna hurt like hell if you walk back barefoot."

You hesitate for a second, feeling a little self-conscious, but the look in Minho's eyes is so earnest, so full of quiet understanding, that you don't argue. You slip your arms around his neck, and he hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you up with ease. The weight of the world seems to fall away as you rest your chin on his shoulder, your arms wrapped loosely around him.

As he starts walking, you close your eyes for a moment, letting the cool night air hit your face as you exit the building. The campus is quiet at this time of night, only the sound of Minho's footsteps echoing softly on the pavement.

"Feel better?" he asks after a few moments, his voice soft.

"Yeah," you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder. "Thank you, Minho. I just... I couldn't handle it in there."

"I know," he replies gently. "And that's fine. There's no point in torturing yourself for an award you already earned. You don't need to prove anything to anyone."

You nod against him, feeling a little lighter with every step. The anxiety that had been clawing at your chest earlier is slowly dissipating, and you can focus on the steady rhythm of Minho's breathing, the warmth of his back against your chest. He carries you across campus with ease, his hands never faltering as he supports you.

"You know," Minho says after a while, his voice cutting through the quiet, "next time you feel like this, don't wait until it gets so bad, alright? Just grab me, or Jisung, or any of us. We've got you."

You smile slightly, your fingers curling a little tighter around his shoulders. "I'll try."

"You better," he says, a teasing note in his voice, though there's still that underlying sincerity that makes your heart warm. "Because if I have to chase you down in the middle of every fancy event, I'm gonna start charging you for these piggyback rides."

You laugh softly, the sound feeling good in your chest. "Deal. I'll make sure to pay you in pizza."

"Now we're talking."

The rest of the walk is quiet, comfortable. You can feel the weight of the night lifting off your shoulders as you approach the Alpha Phi house. By the time you reach the front door, you feel almost like yourself again, thanks to Minho and his steady presence.

When he finally sets you down in front of the house, he gives you a small smile. "See? Not so bad, right?"

You nod, smiling back at him, feeling more grateful than you can express. "Not so bad at all."

Minho grins at you as he unlocks the door to the Alpha Phi house, holding it open for you to step inside. The familiar warmth of the frat house surrounds you, a stark contrast to the cold, fancy banquet hall you'd just escaped from. The moment you cross the threshold, some of the leftover tension in your body melts away.

"Come on," Minho says, his voice low and relaxed, the same voice that had been grounding you since he found you spiralling. "Let's get you something to drink."

You follow him down the hall toward the kitchen, the soft glow of the house's lights making the space feel cosy, almost like home. The tension from the evening still clings to you a little, but Minho's presence beside you is like a steady anchor, keeping you from drifting back into panic.

When you enter the kitchen, Minho heads straight for the fridge, glancing over his shoulder at you. "What's your poison tonight? You look like you could use something strong."

You laugh softly, settling onto one of the barstools at the island, adjusting your floor-length gown so it drapes neatly around you. "Surprise me."

Minho pulls out a bottle of pineapple juice and a bottle of vodka from the fridge, giving you a wink before he grabs a couple of glasses from the cupboard. He makes quick work of mixing your drink, pouring a generous amount of vodka into the glass before topping it off with juice.

He slides your drink across the counter, the clink of the glass against the marble catching your attention. "Vodka pineapple for the lady," he says, raising his own glass. "And a double JD for me because, fuck, we've earned it."

You chuckle, taking the glass and sipping it. The sweetness of the pineapple juice mixed with the vodka goes down smoothly, and you feel some of the remaining tension in your chest loosen. Minho takes a sip of his own drink, watching you with a soft smile.

"You know," he says after a moment, leaning against the counter, "if it helps at all, you were definitely the most beautiful girl in attendance tonight."

You feel heat rise to your cheeks at his words, and you can't help but smile. "You're full of shit, Minho."

"I'm serious," he insists, his eyes twinkling with amusement but also sincerity. "The moment you walked into the hall in that dress, I'm pretty sure every guy there forgot why the fuck they were even attending. It was all eyes on you."

You shake your head, sipping your drink again to hide the fact that his words make you feel more flustered than you care to admit. "Well, I'm not so sure about that, but thanks."

Minho smirks, taking another sip of his drink before his gaze softens again. "It was also pretty fucking sweet how Jisung's pocket square and tie matched your dress."

You grin, finally letting out a genuine laugh at that. "Yeah, he insisted. Said best friends and co-journalists have to match, so everyone knows we're the shit."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head in that fond, almost exasperated way he always does when he talks about Jisung. "Of course he did."

You're about to take another sip of your drink when you suddenly remember something, and your smile falters. "Shit... I forgot my hairpin in the room."

Minho doesn't hesitate. "Don't worry about it. I'll text Chan, and he'll grab it for you before they leave."

You nod, a little relieved. "Thanks. I'd hate to lose it. It was my grandmother's."

Minho pulls out his phone, already typing a message to Chan. As he sends it, he leans against the counter again, taking another long sip of his drink. "So," he says, his voice casual, "to be completely honest, I was supposed to read your article, but I never got around to it. You know, being a veterinary science major kind of takes up all my fucking time."

He's lying, and you have no idea. Minho read that article the moment it was published, studied every word like it was the most important thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

He remembers the excitement in your voice when you first started talking about the project with Jisung, and he couldn't help but get curious. So, yeah, he read it, but he doesn't want to give that away. He wants you to light up and tell him about it yourself, to see the passion in your eyes as you explain your work.

Your face brightens at his interest, and you lean forward slightly, resting your elbow on the counter as you take another sip of your drink.

"Oh my God, you're missing out," you say, your voice already more animated. "Jisung and I have this theory that Jack the Ripper was actually a woman. A midwife, to be specific."

Minho raises an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. "A midwife? That's a hell of a theory. Go on."

You nod, excited now, the exhaustion from the evening momentarily forgotten. "Right? Think about it. A midwife would have had access to all the knowledge needed to perform those surgical cuts on the victims. And during that time, no one would've questioned a woman walking around in blood-covered clothes. She could've been out at all hours, and people would've just assumed she was delivering a baby or something."

Minho swirls the drink in his glass, watching you intently as you explain. "That actually makes a lot of fucking sense. Victorian sexism would've worked in her favour."

"Exactly!" you exclaim, your eyes lighting up. "Back then, no one would've suspected a woman. They were too focused on looking for some deranged man, and the police reports were all written from a male perspective. They overlooked so many possibilities simply because they didn't think a woman could be capable of something so gruesome."

Minho takes another sip of his drink, his gaze fixed on you. "That's pretty fucking brilliant. What about the eyewitness reports, though? There was at least one person who claimed to see a man near one of the crime scenes, right?"

You nod, already ready to dive into that part of the discussion. "Yeah, but Jisung and I argued that just because someone was in the area doesn't mean they were guilty. There are always people wandering around in cities, especially in a place like Whitechapel during that time. Plus, eyewitness testimony is notoriously unreliable, especially in the dark, in a chaotic place like that."

Minho's lips curl into a small smile as he watches you. You're practically glowing now, completely immersed in the subject matter. This is exactly why he brought it up.

Seeing you like this, seeing you so passionate, it's what he loves most about you. Though he'd never admit that out loud. He sets his glass down and leans in a little closer.

"So, basically," he says, keeping his tone light and teasing, "you're saying Jack the Ripper might've just been an extremely intelligent, sadistic woman who knew how to avoid suspicion by playing into society's sexist expectations."

"Exactly!" you say again, nodding enthusiastically. "It's just a theory, of course, but it fits so many of the facts. And honestly, it makes a lot more sense than half the other theories out there."

Minho chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm impressed. That's some seriously clever shit. I'm pissed I didn't read the article now."

You smirk, taking another sip of your drink. "Well, you can still read it. It's not going anywhere."

"I will," Minho says, though he already knows it word for word. "You and Jisung killed it."

Your smile softens at the compliment, and you feel that warmth in your chest again. The same one that always seems to appear when Minho says things like this. He has a way of making you feel proud of your work, of reminding you that you're capable, even when you don't always believe it yourself.

You glance down at your glass, twirling it in your hands. "Thanks, Minho. It means a lot, really. It was... it was a tough project, but we're both really proud of how it turned out."

"As you should be," he says, his voice soft but firm. "You've always been fucking brilliant. That's why it pisses me off when you get in your head about shit."

You laugh softly, though there's a note of vulnerability in your voice. "Yeah, well, getting in my head is kind of my speciality."

Minho's expression softens, and for a moment, the teasing drops. He steps around the island, standing in front of you as he leans on the counter, his hands resting on the marble surface.

"Listen," he says, his voice lower now, more serious. "I know tonight was rough, but don't let it get to you. You've already proven yourself, not just with the award, but with everything you've done. And you've got people who have your back, alright?"

You blink, a little surprised by the sudden shift in his tone. Minho's always been good at saying the right thing, but this feels different. You meet his gaze, and there's something there, something you can't quite place. It's intense but not overwhelming, grounding in a way that makes your chest feel warm.

"I... yeah," you murmur, your voice softer. "Thanks, Minho. Really."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, just holds your gaze, and then he breaks the moment with a small grin. "Now, how about we ditch this heavy shit and enjoy the rest of the night? We've got the whole house to ourselves for a bit."

You laugh, nodding. "Yeah, sounds like a plan."

Minho taps the counter. "I'll top up your drink."

The door to the Alpha Phi house swings open, and the sound of footsteps fills the hallway as the rest of the guys file in after the awards ceremony. You hear Jisung before you see him, his voice cutting through the noise with its usual mixture of excitement and concern.

"Y/N!"

The moment he spots you sitting calmly at the counter, his eyes soften with relief, but his feet don't slow down. He rushes over, crossing the room in a few long strides, and immediately starts fussing over you like a mother hen.

"Shit, are you okay? You should've texted me or something. I would've ditched and come with you."

You can't help but smile at the sight of him. Jisung's still wearing the matching pocket square and tie that he insisted on wearing to match your champagne-coloured gown, though his suit jacket is a little rumpled now from the event. His hair sticks up in odd directions, no doubt from running his fingers through it a thousand times since you left the hall. He looks stressed, but the sight is comforting in its familiarity. You let him fuss, knowing that this is just what he does. What you do for each other.

"I'm fine, Ji," you assure him, though your voice is soft. "Promise."

Jisung's eyes narrow slightly, his hands gently squeezing your shoulders as he bends down to wrap his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on top of your head. "No, you're not," he mumbles, his voice quieter now, almost like he's talking to himself. "It felt wrong up there without you. I fucking hated it."

You reach up and pat his arms, which are still wrapped around you, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm sorry."

Jisung shakes his head, pressing his cheek to your hair. "No, I should've ditched with you. You know I hate leaving you alone when you're feeling like that. I shouldn't have left you with Minho, that stinky prick."

"Oi!" Minho's voice cuts in from across the kitchen, where he's leaning casually against the counter, drink in hand. He looks amused rather than offended, a teasing grin on his face. "Who do you think you're talking about, you cheeky fucker?"

You giggle at the exchange, and Jisung, ever the dramatic one, tightens his hold on you as if Minho's words have personally wounded him. "I'm talking about you, you smelly asshole," he says, sticking his tongue out at Minho while burying his face further into your hair, clearly unbothered by his friend's retort.

Minho rolls his eyes but says nothing else, instead taking another sip of his drink and shaking his head in mock disbelief. He watches the two of you with a small smile on his lips, though there's something else lingering in his eyes. Something softer, more careful. He doesn't push the banter further, choosing to stay quiet for now.

The door opens again, and Chan enters the kitchen, looking as polished as ever despite the long night. He's still got his suit jacket on, though it's clear he's ready to relax as he pulls out his phone, glancing around at the group.

"Oi, Y/N," he says, catching your attention. "You left something behind."

Chan reaches into his blazer pocket and pulls out your grandmother's sapphire-encrusted hairpin. Relief floods through you as you realize you'd completely forgotten about it being in a bubble of comfort with Minho. You reach out to take it, but before you can, Minho steps forward and gently takes it from Chan's hand.

"Here," Minho says softly, his voice lacking the usual teasing tone as he approaches you. "Let me."

Jisung watches the exchange with narrowed eyes, his arms still wrapped around you. He doesn't say anything, but you can feel the tension in the way his body stiffens slightly as Minho steps in closer.

Minho's touch is gentle as he slides the hairpin back into your hair, taking care to make sure it's secure. His fingers brush against your scalp, sending a soft shiver down your spine, but you ignore the feeling. When he's done, he gives you a small smile, his eyes lingering on yours for just a moment longer than usual.

"Perfect," Minho says softly, stepping back.

Before you can thank him, Jisung immediately shoos him away, his hands fluttering in the air as if to physically push Minho aside. "Alright, alright, back off, Romeo. I've got it from here."

Minho rolls his eyes again, but there's an amused smirk on his face as he steps back toward the counter, grabbing his drink. "You're so fucking possessive, Ji."

Jisung doesn't bother responding to that, instead wrapping his arms more securely around your shoulders as he glares at Minho's back. You don't miss the way Jisung's grip tightens slightly, though he's still careful not to make you uncomfortable. He's always been overprotective when it comes to you, but lately, it's been more intense. Especially when it comes to Minho.

"Chan, have we got anything to drink?" Hyunjin's voice cuts through the tension as he and Jeongin finally make their way into the kitchen, both of them looking ready to relax after the long night.

Chan nods, already pulling out glasses from the cupboard. "Yeah, yeah. What do you want? We've got plenty left from the last party."

As the group starts grabbing drinks and chatting amongst themselves, Minho silently pours you another drink, setting it in front of you with a small smile. You notice that he doesn't say anything, just gives you a look that says he's checking in without being too obvious about it.

Jisung, meanwhile, is still fussing over you, his arms around your shoulders like a security blanket. He doesn't let go, not even when you shift slightly in your seat to take a sip of your drink. He stays close, watching you with worried eyes as if he's waiting for you to show any sign of distress.

"Ji, I'm okay," you assure him again, though your voice is soft. "Really."

He huffs, not fully convinced. "Yeah, well, I'll be the judge of that."

Chan finishes pouring drinks for everyone and turns to the group with a grin, raising his glass. "Alright, before we get too fucked up, let's do a toast. To Jeongin and Hyunjin for their awards, and of course, to Y/N and Jisung for killing it with that award-winning article."

The group raises their glasses in agreement, and Minho tilts his glass toward you, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cheers to Y/N," he says softly, his eyes meeting yours.

You smile back at him, feeling the warmth of his gaze settle over you like a comforting blanket. It's moments like this, when he's not teasing or throwing sarcastic comments, that you feel a strange connection to him, something that you can't quite put your finger on. But before you can dwell on it, Jisung pulls you closer, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head.

"To us," Jisung mutters, his voice soft in your ear. "But mostly to you."

You chuckle, clinking your glass against his. "To us."

The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, drinks, and the comfortable warmth of being around friends.

Eventually, Jisung drags you up the stairs, leading you through the dimly lit hallway toward his room. After the long, chaotic night of the awards ceremony, and the endless rounds of small talk and congratulations, this is the sanctuary you need. Being around Jisung, your best friend, feels like hitting reset on a night that left your emotions tangled.

"Come on, let's chill," he says as he pushes open his door. His room is just as messy as always. Clothes scattered on the floor, textbooks stacked haphazardly on his desk, and the faint glow of those stars you stuck to his ceiling two months ago.

You flop onto his bed beside him, both of you lying side by side, staring up at the ceiling. The stars glow faintly in the dark, their soft light casting a surreal calm over the room.

"Remember when you made me put these fucking stars up?" Jisung says, his voice half-teasing, half-nostalgic. "I thought they were gonna look stupid, but..."

"They're kind of nice, right?" you finish for him, smirking. "See? You should listen to me more often."

Jisung snorts. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. This is like, a one-time thing."

The comfortable silence that follows is filled with the distant hum of voices from downstairs, but up here, it's just the two of you. It's moments like this, with Jisung, that you appreciate the ease of your friendship. There's no need to fill every second with conversation. Just being here, next to each other, is enough.

You close your eyes for a second, letting the tension from the night melt away. But then, Jisung, ever the one to break a peaceful moment with something unexpected, speaks up again.

"You know," he starts, and you immediately know there's something coming. His tone is a little too casual. "I was thinking... maybe I should set you up with Felix or Chan."

Your eyes snap open, turning your head toward him, caught completely off guard. "What?"

He's lying there next to you, staring up at the ceiling like he didn't just drop a bombshell on you.

"I'm serious," he continues, his voice still annoyingly nonchalant. "They both think you're amazing and beautiful. Felix especially, he's been crushing on you for ages."

You blink at him, unsure whether to laugh or be genuinely surprised. "Uh... I don't know, Ji. I mean, maybe, but I'd have to think about it."

Jisung shrugs, still staring at the ceiling like this is no big deal. "No pressure. I just think you and Felix could be really good together. He's sweet, thoughtful. Plus, he thinks you're like, Aphrodite-level beautiful."

You snort. "Aphrodite? Really?"

"I'm dead fucking serious," Jisung says, turning his head to look at you. "I've heard him talk about you. The dude practically melts when you're around."

You can't help but smile a little at the thought. Felix has always been a close friend, but you never really thought about him in that way. He's easy to talk to, kind, and funny in that understated way of his.

"I don't know," you say, rolling onto your back again, staring at the stars. "Felix is really sweet, but has he ever actually said anything? Like, to me?"

Jisung shakes his head, waving the question away like it's a minor detail. "No, but come on, he's shy. Attraction is the start, right? You two have good chemistry, and he's definitely into you."

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You've always been close with Felix, and while the idea of a date with him doesn't sound bad, it feels unexpected. Like something you hadn't even considered before tonight.

"And Chan?" you ask, more to fill the silence than because you're seriously considering it.

Jisung shrugs again. "Chan's great too, but he's more focused on school and music right now. I think Felix is the better choice if you're looking for something real, you know?"

You can't help but laugh at how serious Jisung sounds. "Since when are you the expert on my love life?"

"Hey," he protests, sitting up on the bed and crossing his arms. "I'm your best friend. I know you better than anyone, and I know what's good for you."

You roll your eyes. "Right. Of course, you do."

"I'm just saying," Jisung continues, grinning now, "one date with Felix won't hurt. See where things go. If it works out, great. If not, no big deal."

You sigh, leaning back on your elbows. He's persistent, you'll give him that. But there's something about the way he's pushing this that makes you wonder if there's more to it than just wanting to set you up with Felix.

"Okay," you say finally, letting out a deep breath. "Fine. One date won't hurt."

Jisung beams at you, clearly pleased with himself. "Fuck yeah. I'll talk to him tomorrow and make sure everything's set for tomorrow night."

You raise an eyebrow, sitting up fully now. "Wait, tomorrow night? You're already planning this?"

"Yup," Jisung says, completely unbothered by your incredulity. "I'll talk to Felix in the morning. He's probably just waiting for an excuse to ask you out anyway."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Jisung just grins, leaning back on his hands. "You love me."

You roll your eyes but smile despite yourself. "Yeah, yeah."

The room falls into another comfortable silence, the distant sounds of the guys downstairs still faintly audible. You stare up at the stars again, wondering what tomorrow will bring. Felix is sweet, and he's always been a good friend. Maybe this date could be something more.

But before you can think too much about it, Jisung speaks up again.

"Felix is seriously into you, you know," he says, his voice softer now. "He hasn't said it outright, but I can tell. You're the kind of person he'd fall hard for."

You glance over at Jisung, wondering where this sudden emotional shift is coming from. "You're really sure about this, huh?"

Jisung nods, his expression more serious now. "Yeah. I just want you to be with someone who sees how fucking amazing you are. And Felix is one of the few guys I know who would treat you the way you deserve."

There's something about the way he says it that makes your chest tighten. Jisung has always been protective of you, sometimes to the point of being overbearing, but it comes from a place of genuine care. You know he just wants the best for you.

"Okay," you say quietly, more to reassure him than anything else. "If you're that sure, I'll give it a shot."

Jisung breaks into a grin again, clearly relieved. "Good. Trust me, you won't regret it."

What neither of you knows is that Minho is standing just outside the door, his jaw clenched, fists curled at his sides. He's heard every word of the conversation, and it's taking everything in him to not burst into the room right now.

Minho knows exactly what Jisung is doing. He's pushing Felix toward you because he doesn't trust Minho. And it pisses him off more than he can even articulate. Jisung thinks Minho is going to break your heart, that he's just some player who doesn't care. But Jisung has no idea how hard Minho's fallen for you, how much he's been holding back because he's been waiting for the right moment to tell you.

And now, hearing Jisung practically set you up with Felix? It's infuriating.

Minho grits his teeth, leaning against the wall as he listens to your conversation. He could go in there, stop this whole thing, and tell you how he really feels. But he knows Jisung won't make that easy. Jisung will fight him every step of the way because he doesn't think Minho is good enough for you.

But Jisung is wrong. Minho knows he is.

He'll prove it. One way or another.

The restaurant is buzzing with the soft hum of conversations and the clinking of cutlery. You and Felix walk through the dimly lit space, a hostess guiding you to a table near the window. The atmosphere is intimate, maybe a little too intimate. The soft glow of the candles on the table reflects off the wine glasses, making the whole thing feel like the date Jisung had envisioned.

Except, it's not.

You tug at the edge of your black mid-thigh blazer dress, adjusting it slightly as you sit down, your thigh-high stiletto boots brushing against the leg of the chair. The sapphire-encrusted hairpin in your hair catches the light, just like the sapphire necklace resting against your collarbone.

Your grandmother's heirlooms feel like a protective layer tonight, a way to steady your nerves even though Felix has never been the type to make you feel anxious.

Felix slides into the seat across from you, and for a second, you take in his outfit: black slacks and a half-buttoned white shirt, his hands adorned with chunky silver rings. He looks good. And that, combined with the fact that you're both dressed like you're on the cover of a fashion magazine, only adds to the absurdity of the situation.

"Okay," Felix starts, his eyebrows raising as he takes a long look around the room. "This is fucking weird, right?"

You breathe out a laugh, feeling the tension melt slightly. "So fucking weird. What the fuck was Jisung thinking?"

Felix leans back, shaking his head. "I honestly don't know. He cornered me, said something about how I think you're beautiful, and then put two and two together and somehow got ten."

"He's been pushing this since last night. Something about how we'd be 'perfect' together. I guess he thought your opinion on my looks was enough for a love story."

Felix laughs, and the sound is warm and genuine. "Well, to be fair, I do think you're beautiful. I have eyes, don't I? But that doesn't mean I've been harbouring some secret crush on you."

"Thank God," you sigh, leaning back in your chair with relief. "So we can just treat this like a regular friends' dinner?"

Felix raises his glass of wine, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "To a friends' dinner."

You clink glasses, the soft ting sounding like an agreement between the two of you. Already, the night feels lighter. The weirdness of it all slowly dissipates as you both sip your wine and settle into familiar conversation.

"So," you say, gesturing around the restaurant, "if this is supposed to be a 'friends' dinner,' let's make the most of it. What's new with you? Still managing to ace all your classes while simultaneously being everyone's favourite stress baker?"

Felix grins, his eyes sparkling as he leans forward. "Of course. My cookies are keeping half the campus sane, honestly. The other half's still in denial."

You laugh, knowing all too well how Felix's baked goods have gained a sort of cult following around school. He's practically famous for them.

"Speaking of which," he continues, "I made those macadamia nut ones you like the other day. Jisung stole half of them before I could bring them over."

"Typical," you say, shaking your head. "I'll have to fight him for the rest. You know how much I love those."

The conversation flows naturally as you both dive into your usual back-and-forth. The wine loosens you up a bit, and soon enough, you're laughing loudly with Felix, completely relaxed. It feels like any other hangout, the weird pretence of a date"falling away.

The waiter comes by to check on you, refilling your wine glasses as you both finish the first bottle. Felix eyes the bottle in the waiter's hands, then glances at you, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

"You know," he says, his voice lowering as if he's letting you in on some grand secret. "We could get a free bottle of wine right now."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."

Felix grins like he's thought of the most brilliant plan. He slides one of the many rings off his fingers, stands up, and before you can even process what's happening, he gets down on one knee in front of you.

The people at nearby tables glance over, curious, but Felix ignores them, focusing entirely on you.

"Y/N," he says in an exaggeratedly serious voice, holding up the ring like it's some priceless artefact. "Will you make me the happiest guy in this restaurant and marry me?"

The wine has quelled any anxiety you might've felt earlier, so instead of feeling awkward, you decide to play along.

"Yes!" you exclaim dramatically, sticking out your hand for him to slide the ring onto your finger. "Of course, I'll marry you!"

The tables around you erupt into applause, people clapping and cheering as if they just witnessed the most romantic proposal of the century. Felix stands up, a smirk on his face, and the waiter, looking entirely caught up in the moment, hurries over to offer congratulations.

"Congrats!" the waiter says, looking genuinely excited. "Let me get you two a complimentary bottle of our finest wine to celebrate."

You barely hold back your laughter as the waiter rushes off. Felix slides back into his chair, grinning from ear to ear.

"I can't believe that worked," you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

Felix raises his glass again, this time with a proud look in his eyes. "To my fake fiancée and free wine."

You clink glasses again, still giggling as you drink to your ridiculous plan. Just when you think it couldn't get better, a couple from a nearby table leans over and says, "We've got your bill tonight. Congrats again!"

You and Felix exchange wide-eyed looks, barely managing to hold back more laughter. "Holy shit," Felix mutters under his breath. "We just hit the jackpot."

As you drink your newly acquired bottle of wine, the night only becomes more fun. The awkwardness that had hung over the evening at the start is long gone, replaced by pure enjoyment. You and Felix settle back into conversation as the restaurant continues to buzz around you.

"So," Felix says after a sip of wine, his gaze drifting toward the sapphire and diamond necklace around your neck. "Tell me about the heirlooms. That necklace and the pin. They've gotta be worth something, right?"

You nod, tracing the edge of your necklace absentmindedly. "Yeah, they are. My grandmother left them to me. She had a lot of money."

Felix leans forward, intrigued. "I had no idea. So, like, how much are we talking?"

You smile, not bothered by his curiosity. Felix has always been straightforward, and you appreciate that about him. "Well, she was a CEO. She raised me after my parents died, so I inherited pretty much everything. I've got shares in her company and in the other businesses she invested in."

Felix's eyes widen slightly. "So you're rich."

You shrug, sipping your wine. "I guess I am."

"Damn," Felix says, leaning back in his chair with a grin. "Jisung never mentioned that part."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, I don't go around announcing it. I'm not really the 'rich heiress' type, you know?"

Felix nods, understanding. "Makes sense. Still, that's kind of badass. You've got all this wealth and power, and you're still just you."

You smile, feeling the sincerity behind his words. "Thanks, Lix."

The conversation drifts after that, touching on light topics as you both finish the second bottle of wine. The restaurant is still bustling, but it feels like you and Felix are in your own little world, enjoying the absurdity of the evening.

After a while, Felix leans back in his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "You know why Jisung set us up, right?"

You raise an eyebrow, your mind still pleasantly buzzed from the wine. "Because he's an idiot who can't read people at all?"

Felix snorts, shaking his head. "Besides that."

You tilt your head, genuinely curious. "No, enlighten me."

Felix grins, but there's something knowing in his eyes. "Well, I'll let you figure that out for yourself. I won't ruin the fun."

You roll your eyes, playfully smacking his arm. "You're such a dick."

Felix just laughs, finishing the last of his wine before setting the glass down with a satisfied sigh. "Hey, I'm just saying, Jisung had his reasons. You'll figure it out eventually."

You shake your head, still smiling as you lean back in your chair. The night has been a whirlwind of laughter, fake proposals, and more wine than you expected. Whatever Jisung's reasons were, you're just glad the evening turned into something fun instead of the awkward mess it could have been.

Felix pulls the car up to your apartment complex, the quiet hum of the engine filling the comfortable silence between the two of you. . It had turned into a night you didn't expect, but somehow, it felt exactly right.

Felix glances at you as you unbuckle your seatbelt. "Well, that was fun."

You chuckle, shaking your head as you gather your bag and open the door. "So much fun. I don't know how we pulled that off."

Felix's grin is playful, his silver rings catching the dim light. "What can I say? We make a pretty good fake couple."

You laugh again, stepping out of the car and leaning back in through the open window. "Goodnight, Felix. Thanks for the... whatever that was."

Felix smirks. "It was an unforgettable friends' dinner. You know, one for the history books."

"Goodnight, Lix," you repeat, still grinning as you wave.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replies, watching you head toward the building.

As you walk to your apartment, you feel lighter than you have in days. Felix always has that effect on you. He makes everything seem easier, less complicated. The night could've been weird and awkward, but it turned out to be exactly what you needed: fun, simple, and completely free of stress. Jisung's matchmaking might've been misguided, but at least it had resulted in a memorable night with one of your closest friends.

You unlock your door and step inside, immediately kicking off your boots with a sigh of relief. Your apartment is quiet, a stark contrast to the lively restaurant you just left. It feels good to be home, and you head straight to the kitchen, still feeling the buzz of the wine as you pour yourself another glass. The cool liquid slides down your throat, grounding you after such a surreal evening.

As you set the glass down on the counter, you reach up to take off your sapphire necklace, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. You remove the matching hairpin, carefully setting it down next to the necklace before turning your attention to the silver rings on your fingers. You begin slipping them off one by one, the rhythmic movement soothing after such an eventful night.

But then, there's a knock at your door.

You pause, glancing toward the front door with a furrowed brow. It's late, and you're not expecting anyone. Curiosity piqued, you set down the last of your rings and walk toward the door, glass of wine still in hand.

When you open it, you're greeted by a sight you weren't expecting: Minho, standing in the hallway, his expression unreadable, but there's something intense in his eyes.

"Minho?" you say, your voice a little surprised. "What are you doing here?"

He looks at you, his eyes scanning your face, then down to your lips. "Did you kiss him?"

You blink, confused. "What?"

Minho takes a step closer, his voice more insistent. "Did you kiss Felix?"

The question catches you off guard. You feel your heart skip a beat, and suddenly, you're not sure what to say. "No," you answer honestly, "I didn't kiss Felix."

Minho exhales sharply, like he's been holding his breath. "Okay... okay, good."

You raise an eyebrow, still confused by his sudden appearance and his line of questioning. "Minho, what the hell is this about? Why are you asking me about Felix?"

Minho meets your eyes, his gaze unwavering. "Because I still have a chance."

"A chance?" you repeat, feeling even more lost in this conversation. "What are you talking about?"

Minho runs a hand through his hair, clearly agitated, but not at you—more like at the situation. His voice softens when he speaks again, though there's still that intensity behind it. "I lied."

You tilt your head, frowning slightly. "What do you mean, you lied?"

Minho lets out a frustrated breath, looking almost embarrassed for a moment. "About your article. I said I didn't read it, remember? When we were in the kitchen last night, after the awards thing? I told you I didn't get around to reading it."

You nod slowly, still not sure where this is going. "Yeah...?"

"I lied," Minho says, meeting your gaze again. "I read it the second it was published. I've read it more than once, actually. Like an embarrassing amount of times. I said I hadn't read it because I saw how stressed you were about everything, and we were alone, and I knew if I asked you about it, you'd light up. And I wanted to be the one responsible for that."

You stare at him, the weight of his confession sinking in slowly. Minho, always so cocky and teasing, is suddenly standing in front of you, admitting that he'd lied just to see you happy. The realization hits you harder than you expected.

For a moment, you're at a loss for words. "Minho..."

He takes a step forward, closing the space between you, and his voice is quieter now. "Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him in. Minho walks into your apartment, the atmosphere between you shifting. He turns to face you, his expression serious, more vulnerable than you've ever seen him.

"I like you," he says, his voice steady. "Like, I really like you. And Jisung knows that. He hates it because he thinks I'm going to break your heart, but I'm not. I swear, I wouldn't do that."

You feel your pulse quicken at his words, your mind racing to catch up. "Minho, I..."

He holds up a hand, cutting you off gently. "You look so fucking beautiful right now, and it's really distracting me. So I'm going to kiss you, if that's okay."

Your breath catches in your throat, but the answer comes easily. "Yeah, that's okay."

Minho doesn't waste any more time. He steps forward, closing the distance between you, his hands gently cupping your face. His lips meet yours in a kiss that's soft at first, tentative, as if he's waiting for some kind of permission. But then you kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, and the kiss deepens.

Minho's hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there's no space left between your bodies. The kiss is slow but intense, each movement deliberate, like he's savouring the moment. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his grip tightening slightly as his hands roam over your back.

You break the kiss for just a second, gasping for air, but Minho doesn't let you go far. His forehead rests against yours, his breath warm against your lips as he speaks.

Minho's forehead rests gently against yours, and the air between you is thick with tension. Your heart is racing, every nerve on edge, and just when you think the silence will swallow the moment, you feel a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

It's ridiculous, the whole situation. The intensity of the kiss, the way Minho's hands feel so warm and grounding on your waist. You pull back just slightly, enough to catch your breath and give him a mischievous look.

"Oh, by the way," you say, trying to keep a straight face, "Felix and I got engaged."

Minho blinks, clearly caught off guard. "Huh?" He stares at you, confusion clear in his eyes, as if trying to piece together whether you're serious or not.

You can't help the laugh that escapes. "Yep," you nod, keeping up the act. "I'm set to marry Felix. So, congratulations, we're now having an affair."

Minho's brow furrows for a second, and then realization dawns on his face. A grin spreads across his lips. "Oh, so that's how it is, huh? I'm the dirty little secret now?"

You smirk, feeling a little more daring. "Exactly. I'm cheating on my fiancé with you. How scandalous."

He hums, his thumb tracing slow circles on your hip. "I don't mind being the side guy. Adds some spice, don't you think?" He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your lips. "Just keep this between us, yeah? Don't want Felix to find out."

The playfulness between you two eases the tension, and you laugh softly, completely forgetting about everything else for a moment. You're about to respond when, out of nowhere, the door to your apartment swings open with a loud bang, making you both freeze.

"No! This is exactly what I was trying to prevent!"

You and Minho quickly step apart, your heart racing for a different reason now. Jisung looks at the two of you with wide, panicked eyes, like he's just walked into his worst nightmare. His hands fly up in the air as he groans dramatically, pacing a few steps.

"This is exactly why I set you up with Felix!" Jisung exclaims, pointing an accusing finger at Minho. "I knew this would happen! And now he's got his STD-riddled claws into you!"

Minho's jaw drops in disbelief. "Okay, hold the fuck up," he says, hands raised in defence. "I have no STDs, and I'd really like to clear that up before we go any further with this conversation."

You take a slow, deep breath, pressing your lips together to hold back a laugh. Jisung, however, is far from amused. He looks like he's about to have a full-on breakdown as he turns to you, his face full of concern.

"Listen to me," he says, his voice urgent. "He's going to break your heart! Minho doesn't do relationships—he just flirts and messes around. He's like a... a... heartbreaker! A professional one!"

Minho rolls his eyes, stepping closer to Jisung, clearly fed up. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Jisung, I've liked her this entire time, and you know that!" His voice is sharp, filled with frustration. "You're the one who set her up with Felix, knowing damn well how I feel!"

Jisung glares right back, crossing his arms over his chest like a protective barrier. "I did it because I know you, Minho. You're all charming and smooth when you want something, but then you bail as soon as it gets serious. I'm not letting that happen to Y/N."

You shake your head, walking over to grab your glass of wine from the counter. The tension between Minho and Jisung has been building, and now it's finally spilling over. You sip your wine, deciding that the best course of action is to stay out of it and let them bicker it out.

Minho takes a deep breath, his frustration visible. "You think I'm going to hurt her? Jisung, you've got no idea how hard it's been trying to be patient with this shit. You set her up with Felix like some overprotective dad, and now you walk in here acting like you're the fucking saviour of the day."

Jisung's face turns redder, and he steps forward, eyes blazing. "You're my best friend, and so is Y/N! I've seen what you do to girls, and I'm not letting you do that to her."

Minho doesn't back down, stepping forward as well, the space between them shrinking fast. "You think I'm like that with her? Do you even know how long I've been waiting to make a move, only for you to play matchmaker with Felix?"

Jisung's mouth opens and closes like a fish, clearly lost for words.

You, on the other hand, take another slow sip of your wine. The back-and-forth between them is almost entertaining. They're like two kids fighting over a toy, except this time, you're the toy, which is both ridiculous and hilarious.

"Look," Minho says, his voice a little calmer now but still firm, "I'm not playing around with her. I've been serious about this, and the fact that you think I'm just going to fuck her over pisses me off."

Jisung throws his hands in the air again, clearly exasperated. "Of course I think that! You're Minho! You don't do relationships!"

Minho rubs a hand over his face, clearly trying to stay calm. "God, you're an idiot sometimes. This isn't just some hookup, okay?"

Jisung doesn't seem convinced. "You expect me to believe that? After everything?"

At this point, you've had enough. You walk over to Jisung, wine glass still in hand, and without a word, you pour the rest of the wine into his mouth. He tries to protest, but you give him no choice. He swallows the wine, sputtering slightly as he looks at you in surprise.

"Go sit in the living room," you say, pushing him toward the door with more force than you probably should. "We'll deal with you later."

Jisung stumbles into the living room, still flustered and clearly not done with the argument. But before he can say anything else, you shut the door and lock it, effectively trapping him inside.

Minho watches the whole thing unfold with an amused smile. "You know it's going to take him about an hour to realize he can unlock that from the inside, right?"

You shrug, turning back to face him with a grin. "That gives us about an hour of peace."

Minho's smirk widens as he steps forward, his hands sliding around your waist again. He pulls you close, and the heat between you reignites instantly. "There's a lot I can do in an hour," he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and teasing.

Your heart skips a beat as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. "Oh yeah?" you whisper, your voice daring.

He kisses you again, this time with more urgency, and you melt into it, your body pressing against his. His hands slide down to your thighs, and in one swift motion, he lifts you off the ground. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he carries you through the apartment.

"Bedroom?" he asks between kisses, his voice low and filled with need.

"Second door," you manage to say, your voice breathless.

Minho kicks open the door to your bedroom, not bothering to turn on the lights as he carries you inside. The door swings shut behind you with a satisfying thud, and with that, the world outside ceases to exist.

All that matters now is the heat between you, the feel of his hands on your skin, and the promise of what's to come in the next hour.

Minho kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, and in that moment, you know that an hour is more than enough time.

[shkretart]

hey! you're such a huge inspiration for me and genuinely thank you for creating :] I wanted to ask wether you have some art tips for rendering? your art is always so smooth and you capture the light amazing

Hi! Thank you very much. It's very nice to know that I can be an inspiration somehow ❤️

There are probably no special rules or wishes. The main thing is to look at the drawing as a whole and work on everything little by little, and not to zoom in on a certain area of the canvas and work only with it. Also, do not go into details too much... I mean very small details that are unlikely to be noticed by anyone, but they can worsen the overall picture.

Also some people asked for a speedpaint that I recorded a long time ago. It's simple. Also I apologize for the quality, my computer is very old and can't handle it. That's why I don't record anything..., but I decided to try, this is the second time I record a speedpaint, I was a little worried. (I drew using a lasso and a round brush)

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Dr. Stevens and His Sugar Baby

Warnings: SMUT, Sugar daddy Erik, Daddy dom Erik, embarassment kink.

Suggested Listening:

Part Six.

Erik and Sienna pulled up behind a myriad of luxury cars outside of a mutual friend’s Hamptons home. Erik stepped out of his Mercedes-Benz G-class G AMG in all white wearing a white crochet short sleeve boxy-fit polo with white chinos. He completed his outfit with white-gold diamonds that accessorized his ears, neck, wrist, and fingers and a pair of all white Alexander McQueen sneakers. 

Erik walked around to the passenger side and opened the door, holding out his hand for his Princess to take. Sienna clutched his large hand and swung one shapely leg over so she could step down carefully in her white leather kafin ankle strap stilettos. The white mini dress she wore had a deep plunge and it was embellished. Her skin was silky smooth and shimmery, reminding him of a paradise.

The venue was a sprawling beachfront property teeming with contemporary art, its facade gleaming as brightly as the white ensembles that filled the space. (By night, the rooftop was transformed into a dance floor and glowed in neon pink). Everyone of elite status from doctors to Hollywood stars attended this party every year. It wasn’t a surprise that the moment Dr. Erik Stevens walked in he was known by many. 

Sienna clung to her Daddy’s hand and with a beautiful smile and a flirty wave, she greeted everyone Erik introduced her to. Erik kept her close, at times with his hand on her lower back or his arm around her waist. Sienna craved the spoiled princess life amongst the rich and famous. To actually have her dreams come true before her eyes is astounding. She would have never guessed that Dr. Stevens would be the one to give good dick and gifts. 

The warm breeze brushed against Sienna’s skin as the sun began to set and the party grew lively. Erik had Sienna sitting on his lap while he took sips of his tequila. Sienna had a drink of her own; a flirty martini. It was pink and sweet and the more she sipped from it the looser she became. The host of the party, a billionaire tech guru, walked around with a woman with a bad tan and a botched face. When they made their way over to Erik and their group, Sienna admired the woman. She smiled and her bloated lips almost took up her entire face.

“Stevens! Glad to have you here again. Jamie, Toni, and Leo, good to see you.”

Erik shook his hand, “Always a pleasure, Rich, thanks for having us. This is Sienna. Sienna, Richard Donald.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sienna said. 

Erik’s friends said their hello’s and they introduced their sugar babies as well. Rich definitely gave Sienna the ick. He looked like the type of brother who exclusively dated white women and exoticals and talked shit about black women. That pushed back hairline and faux professional voice annoyed her. 

“We have to set up that Brazil trip again!”

Rich tapped Erik’s shoulder with the back of his hand several times and ended it with a wink. Sienna caught on to that, glancing over at Erik through her wispy lash extensions. Sienna shared a look with Kitten, Emerald, and Treasure, every last one of them thinking the same thing. The man is a loser. 

“This is Leslie. Leslie, these are friends of mine. We go back maybe ten years?”

“Correct. Ten years of putting up with us crazy bastards,” Leo replied with a smirk. Treasure was rubbing along his exposed chest through his white button down.

“Leo, speak for your fuckin’ self,” Jamie replied. 

Toni and Erik simply laughed. 

“Remind me to plan another Brazil trip, fellas. Adeus!”

“Adeus!” All four of them responded with raised gasses. 

Rich and Leslie sauntered away with his hand on her flat bottom through her white silk dress. 

“Adeus?” Emerald questioned Jamie.

“It’s farewell in Portuguese.” Jamie said.

“What goes down in Brazil?” Treasure asked.

Leo cleared his throat before taking a sip of his beer. Treasure elevated an arched brow at Leo, annoyance set in her features. She knew what they must have gotten into in Brazil. 

Sienna stroked Erik’s neck, her martini making her feel horny. The scenery was beautiful and so was the fire pit crackling before them, but all Sienna wanted was to be stuffed full of her daddy’s dick. 

She’d been on punishment for two days. No dick because she was flirting with a male nurse during clinicals. She had to get her daddy’s attention somehow since she hadn’t been in any of his surgeries for over a week. It seemed as if the workload for the orthopedic surgeon became a boatload. That also meant less time spent together outside of the hospital. It’s mostly been phone sex or virtual sex. 

Sienna would set up a personal web cam session and each time she would put on a slutty costume that he purchased. Whatever he wanted her to do to make him cum after a hard day's work, Sienna was ordered to do it and gifted as a reward. Erik would alternate between talking her through her orgasm, using a Bluetooth vibrator, and beating his dick in the camera. 

It didn’t help Sienna at all. She couldn’t take being away from that dick—skin to skin for so long. The male nurse had been dropping hints for a while that he was interested. He was 6’2 with a deep voice and a beautiful smile. His chestnut skin looked smooth and Sienna caught a glimpse of tattoos on his arms. He looked like he could beat the kitty up good and those arms were made for picking a bitch up and down on his dick. 

Erik caught Sienna flirting with the nurse and he was heated. What Sienna didn’t know was that her sugar daddy was paying her a late night visit. He showed up at 2 am and since he had a key to her apartment now, he walked in and quietly entered her room. Sienna sat up when she felt her silk sheets being slowly removed from her body. She blinked beyond the darkness and noticed a naked Erik with his dick pointed out at her mouth.

“You like playing a lot of games in my face Sienna…”

“How dare you flirt with some other nigga in my face like that…I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, little mama…”

He used and abused her throat all night long. On her knees, while he was lying on the bed with her ass in the air, head hanging over the edge of the bed, lying on her side with him standing next to the bed. It didn’t matter. And to make matters worse, she couldn’t touch herself or feel his dick in her pussy. Sienna was misty-eyed and pleading with him. He almost caved with the visual of his cum on her face. He almost gave in when she spread her thighs to show him how wet she was. 

And here they are now, day two and no fat dick. 

“Daddy, can I have another drink?” Sienna whispered seductively in Erik’s ear.

Erik looked at Sienna with his dark orbs and it didn’t help that she needed him. Why did he have to look at her like that? And why can she feel his dick growing beneath her? He was teasing her.

“Sure, love. I’ll be waiting right here for you when you get back.”

“I’ll go with you,” Treasure stood up and Leo fixed her white leather mini skirt, “Coming, ladies?” 

Emerald stood up next to Jamie and Kitten did the same next to Toni. They all walked away hand in hand to the bar. There, Sienna ordered another flirty martini. Treasure coerced them into taking shots and they agreed. 

“What do y’all think this Brazil trip is about?” Kitten asked. 

“They probably used to fuck women there,” Emerald replied with a laugh.

“My daddy better not!” Treasure argued.

“I don’t think they will, Treasure. They have us to look forward to. Why would they need to go to another country for good pussy when ours is here for the taking?” Sienna replied with a quirk of her brow.

“You’re right. I don’t know, I just worry that Leo’s gonna get tired of me.” Treasure revealed.

The thought has crossed Sienna’s mind too. She glanced over at Kitten and Emerald and their expressions mirrored Treasure’s.

“We don’t know what the future will hold, but let’s make the most of it right now! Our daddies are crazy about us! We have nothing to worry about.”

Sienna ordered another round of shots to get the girls in a better mood. It seemed to work, because now they were on the dance floor cutting up. They danced on each other in scandalous ways, all eyes on them like they were the main attraction. Their daddies had their eyes glued to them like a hawk to its prey. They weren’t going to miss anything. Sienna locked eyes with Erik and arched her back to shake her ass when the music called for it. He watched her with his eyes trailing up and down her body. Those crinkled shoulder length locs made him look even more delicious. 

She couldn’t wait to look up at him pounding her pussy out with her ankles on his shoulders. Those locs loose and wild in his face, gold chain she picked out for him swinging in her face, gold slugs she gifted him showing each time he opened his mouth to command her to cum for him. She couldn’t take it anymore. If she had to piss this man off just for him to give her what she wants she’ll do it. The song switched to another banger and Sienna was getting more into the groove with her girls when a waiter walked up to her with another flirty martini on a tray. 

“I didn’t order another drink,” Sienna said with a confused look.

“It was ordered by that man there.”

The waiter pointed to the bar and a famous football player; Odell Beckham Jr., raised his glass of cognac to her with a smirk. Sienna accepted the drink and raised her glass in return. Odell took that as a hint to approach her and Sienna’s heart was hammering away in her chest. Odell’s hair is dyed purple and he’s dressed in an unbuttoned white linen shirt with matching shorts and white A1’s on his feet. His diamond accessories almost blinded her and the art etched into his skin enhanced his confidence.

“How are you doing? I peeped that you liked those cute martinis so I figured I should treat you to another one.” 

He smiled at her and all Sienna saw was white teeth and a diamond grill.

“They’re so good. Thanks for the drink, Odell.” 

“No problem. What’s your name?”

Sienna nibbled on the rim of her glass as she looked up at Odell through her lashes. 

“I’m Sienna.”

She held her hand out and Odell gently clasped her hand before bringing it to his lips to kiss. Treasure, Emerald, and Kitten watched the entire interaction with wide eyes. They couldn’t believe how bold Sienna was right now. Sure enough, Erik was walking over with a crease in his brow and a set jaw. 

“I just had to talk to you. You’re so damn beautiful.” 

Sienna blushed, “Thank you. You’re really handsome, Odell.” 

Odell leisurely touched her elbow with his fingertips and it sent shivers down Sienna’s spine. He drew closer to her so that he could whisper in her ear. 

“I ain’t seen you here before. You come alone?”

“Uhm—”

Erik showed up within their space and snaked his arm around Sienna’s waistline. Odell took a step back and he raised a brow. Odell sized Erik up before recognition crowded his features. 

“Yo, ‘sup Doc?!”

They dabbed each other up firmly to the point where Sienna could see matching veins in both of their hands. 

“This you?” Odell questioned while looking down at Sienna. 

“Yeah…she’s mine.” 

Erik’s fingers tightened on her waist. It was the tone of his voice. It became raspy with the slightest hint of a threat on the tip of his tongue razor sharp. Sienna released a shaky breath. 

“I didn’t know…Y’all have a good evening—”

“Knee holding up good, Odell?” Erik said, cutting Odell off. 

“Yeah…it’s all good. All new thanks to you.” 

“Try to keep from getting injured this year. I don’t wanna have to see you on my operating table again.” 

Sienna looked up at Erik. His eyes were like a pitch black abyss. 

“Nah, can’t have that,” Odell looked Erik up and down with creased brows, “Y’all take care.” 

Odell walked away quickly with a shake of his head but he didn’t hold back from giving Sienna one final look of interest. 

Erik leaned down to whisper to Sienna. 

“Haven’t learned your lesson yet I see.” 

Sienna ignored him and knocked back her Martini. She peeled away from Erik and joined the other sugar babies in a dance. Erik narrowed his eyes at her and she knew he was ready to walk her out of this party and punish her. 

It was something thrilling about seeing her doctor get angry and possessive. The anger she witnessed during surgeries was just work stress. This type of anger was primal. Bringing that dark side out of him whenever she disobeyed him exhilarated her. She danced with sticky panties and a racing heartbeat. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her skin tingle. 

“You’re in trouble girl,” Treasure whispered in her ear while they were dancing. 

Sienna looked over at their section and Erik was sitting there with an unblinking stare directly on her. 

“Maybe we should go back to the table. It’s getting crowded.” Sienna said.

Hand in hand they walked back to the section and parted ways to sit with their sugar daddies. Sienna plopped down onto Erik’s open lap and sat her empty glass down. A dancehall song came on and Sienna started doing a slow wine on Erik. Sienna looked back at him over her shoulder and Erik had his lip between his teeth.

“You can’t stay mad at me for too long, can you?” Sienna teased.

“Oh, I’m still very mad, Sienna. This doesn’t change anything.” Erik replied.

His hands snaked up her waist.

“What if I get down on my knees and suck your dick in front of everyone? Would that change your mind?”

Jamie chuckled and everyone else watched like it was a movie. 

“Sienna…”

He spoke her name softly but it held an edge.

“Yes, daddy?” Sienna replied with a soft voice.

“I think you better behave.”

“Or what?”

Erik cut his eyes at her and tilted his head. He didn’t need to say anything else, Sienna already knew. But that’s what she wanted. 

“She’s a bratty one, Ignus,” Leo said.

Sienna giggled at Leo. 

“Sienna, look at me.” 

His voice was laced with lust. Sienna locked eyes with her daddy.

“I'll spank you right here in front of all these people if you don’t behave. Is that what you want daddy to do?”

Sienna pouts, “No, daddy. But you can fuck me in front of all these people.” 

Erik’s hands remain still at her sides but his eyes glinted with rage. The others could feel his energy as well. Sienna’s eyes twinkled as she bat her lashes at him. Erik wrapped an arm around Sienna’s waist and lifted from his seat with her pressed against him. 

“We’ll be right back,” Erik forced Sienna to walk.

He didn’t let go of her. Even with her legs moving, Erik was leading the way. Into the beach side mansion they went. There were some people sprinkled about talking closely for more privacy. Erik walked up the U-shaped staircase with a glass railing and as he climbed he picked Sienna up bridal-style. The sound of the music was a distant noise. Erik seemed to know where he was going. He found an empty room with a balcony view of the beach and the sky turning into night. 

Erik slammed the door shut and locked it. He sat Sienna down on the bed with a bounce and without a word he stood before her and grabbed her neck. Sienna’s breath hitched as her once bratty eyes ascended his body. 

“You really know how to get on my bad side, Sienna. What part of behaving tonight did you not understand?” 

Sienna parted her lips but no words came out. Erik cocked his head to the side and curled a single brow at her impatiently. 

“Open your mouth and speak when I’m talking to you, Sienna.” He said with an abrasive tone that caused her to jump.

Sienna swiped her glossy bottom lip with her tongue, “I’m sorry. I just wanted your attention.”

“Is that how you get my attention? By making me angry and jealous?”

“No…but it’s the way I like to do it.” 

Erik’s hand around Sienna’s neck moved to her jaw. He forced her to look at him as he leaned in so close to her face his warm breath tickled her. 

“You haven’t touched me in two days. I want that dick.” Sienna whispered seductively.

“You think you deserve dick when you want it?”

Sienna spread her legs and nodded her head. She was trying to get his attention in between. No panties and all wet for him. 

“Give me a good reason why I should pull this dick out and give it to you, Sienna.” 

Sienna smiled at Erik. She had more than one reason. 

“Because I’m your favorite girl. You can’t stay mad at me forever. You can’t help but to give me what I want. And the way I make you feel is too addictive for you to control yourself…”

Erik looked Sienna up and down. His eyes sparked with lust at her words. He knew she was right. Sienna didn’t even have to look at his crotch to see that heavy dick print to know that she’d vanquished him once again. 

“Please, Daddy, fuck me into submission.” Sienna whined.

Erik chuckled darkly, “you don’t deserve this good dick, slut. You don’t deserve more than my fingers in that pussy…hump my leg while I laugh at how pathetic you look begging for this dick…you should be thankful for anything I deign to give you since you want to be a disobedient slut…”

Sienna’s eyes were wet with desire at his degrading words that came out like a whisper. His deep voice sent shockwaves through her. She couldn’t wait for him to see how soaked she was. 

“…punish you if you don’t act grateful for every little bit of attention I give you.”

“But it wasn’t enough!” Sienna shouted. 

Erik cocked his head back at her blatant disregard for his words and with a sturdy hand he gripped her by her hair and forced Sienna on her knees. This was it. She could feel her heart pounding against her chest. 

Whip that big dick out, she thought. 

“Uh-uh, hands on your lap, slut. You don’t get to touch me.”

Erik slowly brought his hands to his pants and started unbuttoning them. Sienna watched with tentative eyes while her hands gripped her dress to keep from touching him. The slow sound of his zipper in that quiet room caused her to gasp. She looked up at him with a nibble of her bottom lip, her eyes begging him to whip it out. Erik took his time teasing her. He lifted his shirt to reveal his sculpted physique and with both hands he lowered his pants to rest just above his dick. 

With her eyes she took in his v-cut, the buzz cut of his pubic hair, and then just a bit of his veiny brown shaft. Erik went to work taking off his shirt painfully slow. Muscles flexing without much effort, he lowered his pants at a snail's pace and then finally, that big dick sprang forward with a bounce and poked right out at Sienna’s wanton mouth. Erik gripped his veiny length with one hand and slowly fisted himself in Sienna’s face. Each time his hand would go in a downward tempo, his slit would open just a little. His balls were in his other hand and he massaged them.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you’re sobbing into the pillows with a beat up pussy, little mama, but first…”

Erik released his dick and crouched down to grab his chinos. Digging into one of the pockets, he revealed Sienna’s pink furry cuffs that she must have left at his place so they could use it whenever. Sienna turned around on the floor and brought her arms behind her back. Erik fastened the cuffs on her slender wrists and Sienna faced him again. Back in position, Erik had a slight grip on the base of his dick and he tapped his tip on Sienna’s lips. 

“Worship this dick, Sienna. Respectfully. You know Daddy’s rules.”

Sienna didn’t need to be told twice. She started off by peppering kisses all over his dick from top to bottom. 

“That’s it…kiss all over your daddy’s dick…give me all the sloppy kisses.” Erik commanded.

Sienna brought her lips to his balls and gave him sloppy kisses there. She dragged her lips up the underside of his dick and used her tongue to trail her spit up to his tip. With her lips she kissed his slit and moaned when his pre-cum coated her lips. Erik chuckled darkly at the sight of her. 

“You’re such a pretty slut, Sienna. Slap it across your face…just like that…feel how heavy this dick is, girl?”

“Mmmm, yes, sir,” Sienna closed her eyes in true bliss when his third leg collided with her cheek. She had a firm grip on his dick and made sure that it covered every inch of her face. Saliva dripped from her mouth when she slapped the weight of him on her tongue.

“Thank me for letting you worship this dick.”

“Thank you so much, big daddy,” Sienna replied instantly.

“The only thing on your mind is gettin’ this dick. I already know that my princess pussy is wet.” 

Erik licked his lips when Sienna took him into her mouth. She knew to keep her eyes on him while her mouth did unspeakable things that had his toes digging into the carpet. His low eyes watched her make love to his dick with her warm, wet mouth and tight throat. He couldn’t believe how much better she’d gotten with taking him down her throat. She twisted her lips length over and over over his length and each time it was glossier with her spit. 

Erik’s eyes fluttered before he dragged his bottom lip between his teeth and with one hand on the back of her neck he started face fucking Sienna. The gurgling sounds from her throat had his dick brick hard going in and out of her mouth. Looking up at him with those pretty eyes and wet lashes almost made him explode. 

“You’re so fucking adorable with my dick in your mouth, princess,” Erik stroked her neck before continuing to pound her throat, “keep that mouth open just like that…uhuh…fuck…”

Sienna could feel hot tears trickle down her cheeks. The sound of her glucking and gagging grew louder and louder each time Erik’s dick hit the back of her throat. Her fingers trembled to grip his thighs but she was cuffed. His tight fist found its way into her hair again and his hips drew back. His big dick and a stream of spit similar to a snail's trail appeared from her mouth. Sienna stuck her tongue out and Erik slapped the weight of his heavy shaft on it.  

In and out. In and out. He would press forward to the back of her throat and then he would retract his hips. Sienna couldn’t contain her squirming. She was practically chasing his dick and Erik laughed at her greediness. 

“Look at you. Here,” Erik let go of his dick, “Make this dick cum, like a good little student.” 

He was playing into that fantasy? Sienna was more than ready.

“Yes, Dr. Stevens,” Sienna lunged forward and with only her plump lips she sucked him into her mouth. Working only her jaw and her neck, she kept her eyes on him, confident in her dick sucking abilities.

“This is for all the times I have to correct you. How many fucking times do I have to tell you to follow my orders?” Erik barked out.

Erik had a tight jaw and penetrating eyes, but from the way his dick twitched in her, Sienna knew she had him right where she wanted him.

“I want you to remember how heavy this dick feels in the back of your throat. Memorize that just like you memorize those fucking notes…”

Erik couldn’t resist her tight mouth no matter how hard he tried. When Sienna swallowed him whole and tightened her throat around his shaft Erik released a long, quivering groan before a hefty load erupted from his sensitive tip. 

“Fucccck, fucccck, mmmmmmm—”

His knees almost buckled but he kept his balance with a vice grip on Sienna’s hair. With a deep breath, she released his dick and more of his cum aimed for her cheek. She proceeded to lick him clean and then she fingered the cum from her cheek and sucked it off her digit. 

“Mmm, so tasty. I want you to do that in my pussy now.” 

“Oh yeah? All in that tight little pussy?”

Erik slapped the weight of his erection on Sienna’s tongue. 

“You deserve to have your pussy ate for making me cum so hard…”

Erik grabbed Sienna by the chin gently and leaned forward to kiss her lips. She whimpered into his mouth when one of his hands grabbed a titty through the opening in the front of her dress. He twirled her nipple between his thumb and pointer finger while his tongue dragged across hers like a snail. Sienna broke the kiss and pressed her face into his taut abdomen. 

“You smell so good…”

Erik picked Sienna up and undid the cuffs, putting them on again with her hands in front of her. He placed her on her back on the bed. Without a word, he spread her pliant thighs and pushed her knees back to her ears to expose her pussy. Wrists cuffed, Sienna watched as Erik exposed her breasts and with a couple slaps to them he dipped his head lower and started eating her pussy. Sienna squirmed beneath his tongue and lips. Erik had her body quaking from head to toe. He would suck her whole pussy into his mouth, drag his long tongue between her folds, nibble on her clit, and suck to his heart's desire. 

“Daddy, yes! Eat that pussy!” Sienna shouted. 

Erik responded with a slap to her ass.

“Right there! I’m gonna cum all over your face!”

Erik growled. He looked up at her and Sienna locked eyes with him. She watched him devour her and the uncontrollable shake of her thighs had Erik forcing them open. 

“Huhhhh–uhhnnnnuh—”

Sienna was having an out of body experience. She couldn’t grab his head, she couldn’t push him away. She had no use but to lay there and take it. A warmth crept over her body and she felt as if she were paralyzed. The sound of his insistent slurping and her constant groans bounced off of the walls. Before Sienna could even prepare herself, she came into Erik's mouth. He used his tongue to clean up the mess that dripped down her ass and his lips to suck her clit to get more out of her. 

“Sienna…my dick is damn near close to bussin’…”

Erik sat up on his knees to show her how stiff he is. Yes, he was close. The amount of pre cum leaking from his slit astounded her. If he would have gone any longer, he would have bust all over the sheets from eating her pussy alone. 

“What’s daddy’s rule when it’s time to fuck?”

Sienna was still on an orgasmic high but she parted her trembling lips to speak as best as she could.

“No matter how sensitive my little pussy is, I have to give daddy what he wants. More pussy in any way he desires.”

“Good girl. Such a good little slut for me. It’s time for daddy to take his pussy, baby. And I’m gonna take that wet shit, hear me?”

Sienna responded with a pout and with no objections, Erik lined his dick up with her wet opening and sank inside swiftly. Sienna exhaled and instantly tensed up when Erik used the force of his hips to keep her thighs parted. Hands propped up on either side of her head, Erik dropped dick into her pussy with a harsh slap of skin. Erik’s chain hovered over her face back and forth like hypnosis. 

“Daddy you’re so deep in your pussy!” Sienna cried out. 

“You hear that pussy talking?” Erik asked with a tremble of his voice.

“Yessss…oh, fuck,” Sienna lifted her neck to see, “I love watching it go in and out.”

“You love watching it go in and out?” Erik repeated, his eyes looking from Sienna to his dick, “Keep watching this dick go in and out then.” 

Erik pressed forward inside of her and held himself there just so he could feel her legs shake. Sienna threw her head back and moaned. 

“Sienna…” Erik called out to her.

He went back to pounding her out with a stamina any other forty-six year old man wouldn’t have. He kept himself in the best shape not only because he’s getting older, but because he needed the energy for sex. Lack of energy in bed was a no for him. 

“Little mama…look at the way I fuck you.” 

Sienna dragged her eyes down to see his cream-coated stick drilling her pussy kat into the bed. 

“Erik…Erik, I’m gonna cum.”

“Don’t say it, do it.” Erik commands. 

Sienna’s toes curled and she felt her entire body seize up. Erik kept that same stroke through her orgasm. When her body finally relaxed, Erik took off the cuffs and massaged her wrists. He slowed down and retracted his hips, bringing his lips to her pussy to lick up the mess he created.

“The amount of cum leaking from this pussy has daddy hungry for more, princess.” 

He studied the way her clit poked out. How the wishbone shape of her inner folds sat puffy. How creamy and slick her opening looked. The mess that seeped to the crack of her juicy ass. He was mesmerized. 

“Every time I fuck you…” Erik leans into Sienna’s face, “it feels like the first time I slid in…”

His dick sat heavy between her pussy lips while they French kissed. Erik’s tongue was covered in saliva and it tasted like her pussy. 

“Does this mean I get a present for having the best pussy daddy’s ever had?” Sienna whispered seductively against Erik’s lips. 

“I’ll give you whatever you want…”

Sienna nibbled on Erik’s pouty bottom lip between kisses.

“Oh yeah? What if I wanted a new car?”

Sienna reached down between them and grabbed Erik by the dick. She rubbed his wide tip between her folds and the sounds that her pussy made sent chills down Erik’s spine. He loved Sienna’s young pussy. The way it gripped him. The way it creamed all over him. How wet the crotch of her panties get from just one touch. How sweet it tasted. 

“You want a new car?” Erik looked down at Sienna with desperate, hungry eyes, “what kind of car do you want?”

Sienna blinked twice rapidly. She pushed forward against Erik and sat up on her knees. Erik looked at her with a half smirk and an elevated brow. 

“Are you serious?” Sienna questioned with absolute shock. 

“Uh, yeah,” Erik shrugged his shoulders, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I–I don’t know–it’s just a lot.” 

“Sienna,” Erik tilted his head, “lil’ ‘mama…you know I love spoiling you. Why wouldn’t you think a car wasn’t a part of the equation?”

Sienna sat there with her mouth unhinged. Erik chuckled at her expression. 

“What kind of car do you want?”

Sienna shook her head in disbelief. Erik’s eyes roamed up and down her frame. He planned on taking that pussy from the back next. Erik grabbed Sienna by the hips and turned her over. While she continued to have a look of surprise at his words, Erik arched her back deep and with his fingers sinking into her ass cheeks he plunged into her wet little hole and groaned. 

“Daddy,” Sienna looked back at him with weepy eyes, “that dick is in my belly.”

Erik slow strokes her, savoring the sound of her wet hole gliding over his girth with a grip that had his nuts tight. 

“Tell daddy what car you want, baby girl.”

I…” Sienna shut her eyes, “I want a pink Benz…”

“The truck or the sedan?” 

Erik had one hand on her waist and the other grabbed her diamond-wrapped ankle. He pushed all ten inches forward into her eager pussy. 

“The sedannnnn, oh my gosh,” Sienna brought her French-tip fingers down to rub her clit, “I’m so wet.”

She was indeed. A stream of sticky arousal dripped from her pussy and to the bed. 

“Good girl…you know daddy loves it when you leak all over me like that…gives me more slip to bust this shit open…”

Erik picked up speed and now Sienna’s cheeks were clapping. 

“Keep that arch! Keep that back arched, Sienna! That’s it…right in that pussy…all in that pussy…”

“Yes!” 

Sienna pushed at Erik’s abs while convulsions coursed through her body. Erik popped her on the ass and continued thrusting his dick in and out of her. 

“Ima cum in my pussy!” Erik groaned, “Fuck—”

His deep moans had Sienna’s walls squeezing his rock hard dick. She milked him and when he pulled out, some of his cum oozed from her opening. Erik collapses on the bed and Sienna rests her head on his chest. She stroked his nipple while kissing his side. 

“You wanna get out of here so we can go back to your place and fuck some more?” Sienna asked.

“Hell yeah. Anything for my princess.” Erik responded. 

___

It’s been several months of bliss for Sienna and Dr. Stevens. Neither one of them would admit it, but deeper feelings have gotten involved. Sienna was afraid to make it known that she wanted to be more than just Erik’s sugar baby, and Erik wanted to make Sienna his official woman no matter what people would think.

 He knew well enough that dating a woman twenty years younger than him would turn heads. The only thing that worried him was Sienna’s feelings. Would she actually want to have a real relationship with him? He’d never felt this alive with a woman in his life. It wasn’t because of their age differences. Sienna listened to him. She made him laugh and smile. They were twin flames. Every time they kissed, had sex, looked at each other, and touched each other, it set off fireworks. 

It was so scary but so amazing. He wasted his time marrying two women when he could have waited for Sienna to pop up in his life. If she hadn’t done clinicals where he worked, if he would have never gone to that Gentleman’s Club, he would have never met Sienna. He looked forward to spending time with her. She’s a horny, lascivious young woman so sex would always be a thing between them, but to spend time on his couch with R&B music on in the background and glasses of Shiraz in their hands was enough to satisfy him. 

Sienna had found her soulmate in Erik. What went from enemies in that OR to this whirlwind romance is what shocked her. She got to see the man outside of his surgical gear and what a beautiful man he is. The true definition of tall, dark, and handsome. The more time has passed, the harder it gets to be around him and calm her racing heart. He was made for her. She didn’t care what anybody thought. Sienna wanted to live in that man’s skin. If she could pack that dick up and take it home with her she would. Sitting and staring at his handsome face and listening to his voice was her second favorite thing to do. 

Sienna often listened to his voicemails just so she could cum to the sound of his voice. 

Hey, baby girl. Just calling to see how you were doing. Call me back when you’re free…

Sienna, this is daddy. Let me know how you did on the exam. You got this, baby…

I miss you. Call me…

Are you ignoring my calls? Should I come over there and give you something to cry about? Huh? Pick up the phone, Sienna…

I just wanted to thank you for this weekend. I’m gonna miss that pretty face and pussy all week…

Sienna was sitting on money and gifts galore and her absolute favorite is the early graduation present. He bought her a pink Mercedes Benz with a custom interior and she was so excited that he had to calm her down. One thing about Erik, he was a man of his word. Sienna never had to doubt anything he said.

It was her final week of clinicals. Sienna was preparing to take her NCLEX before graduation so she could already be secured in a nursing job. With her connections at Zuckerberg San Francisco General Hospital and Trauma Center, and multiple recommendation letters—of course one from Dr. Stevens himself—would sure enough land her a job. 

She was nervous. Her nursing class had gotten smaller, her teachers were cracking down harder, her study sessions were longer, and that meant less time spent with her daddy. It will all pay off in the end she had to remind herself. But two weeks without any physical contact with Erik except for quick kisses in between breaks was killing her. 

Sienna had changed into her surgical scrubs and grabbed her things. Selena had already left the locker room. Sienna opened the door and rushed out into the hall only to slip on the freshly mopped floor and fall on her left ankle. Her school supplies and lunch bag were scattered on the floor in front of her. Throbbing pain traveled up her leg. She could feel her ankle swelling the more she moved to try and stand.

Hot tears streaming down her cheeks, Sienna pushed herself up and braced her hands against the wall. Up ahead, Nurse Kizzy was walking down the hall and when she spotted Sienna she took longer strides to get to her. 

“Sienna? What happened?” 

“My ankle,” Sienna tried moving it, “I think I may have sprained it or something.” 

“Here,” Kizzy wrapped one arm around Sienna’s waist and brought Sienna’s arm up to drape over her shoulder, “Hold onto me and we’ll take slow steps towards the nursing station. From there we’ll get you a wheelchair.”

“Okay,” Sienna looked back at her things, “My stuff.”

“I’ll come back for it.” Kizzy reassured her.

They walked slowly until they were right at the entrance to the main area. Selena and two of her other classmates looked up and noticed Sienna limping. Others took notice and walked over to examine her.

“Get her in a chair! We’ll take her to a room and get her on a bed,” Lori shouted, “Jesus, Sienna, what happened?”

“I was leaving the locker room and slipped on the wet floor.” Sienna said.

“Was there a wet floor sign at all?” Lori questioned.

“I don’t think so—OUCH!”

A wheelchair touched the back of Sienna’s legs and she was gently lowered down. They placed her feet on the footrests and Lori wheeled her to a room. Once there, they used proper lifting and transferring mechanics to get Sienna up on a stretcher. Selena was on her right side and she watched Lori undo Sienna’s all white HOKA shoe. Sienna hissed and grabbed onto the sides of the bed. Lori carefully removed her sock and instantly she could see that the lateral side of her ankle and foot was bruised and swollen. 

“Dr. Stevens! Thanks for coming—”

Sienna’s eyes shot up and Erik rushed inside damn near pushing past everyone. He was wearing ceil-colored scrubs that fit him deliciously. His shoulder-length locs were pulled back into a messy ponytail at the nape of his neck and his glasses were on his face. He must have been in his office. 

“What happened?” Erik looked up at Sienna with concerned eyes. 

“She slipped,” Selena spoke for her, “The hallway outside of the locker room was freshly mopped.”

Erik nodded his head faintly and cut his eyes to Sienna, “I asked her. What happened?”

Selena frowned slightly at his remark.

“I slipped in the hallway outside of the locker room. When I went down, I landed on the side of my foot and ankle.” Sienna replied.

Erik stepped in front of Lori and he took a seat at the edge of the bed. The room was overcrowded and everyone watched as Dr. Stevens took Sienna’s bare foot in his grasp. He inspected her foot and noticed straight away that it was dislocated. He glanced up at Sienna and he had this sorry look in his eyes.

“Sienna, I’m sorry, but it’s most likely dislocated with possible subluxation. We need an X-ray. NOW.” 

He started applying pressure to areas and Sienna couldn’t hold back tears. Selena watched the entire thing with a skeptical gaze. It appeared way too intimate for her.

“Instead of standing around, why don’t one of you get something to prop her foot up!  A pillow? A pile of blankets?” Erik barked out. 

“Sienna, I need your ID and insurance, honey,” Lori said before leaving the room.

“It’s in my wallet in the front pocket of my backpack.”

Lori rushed to retrieve it. Selena remained in the room. Erik gently lifted her foot and Selena placed several pillows beneath it. Sienna felt instant relief.

“It’s gonna be okay. You alright?” Erik asked.

“No. It hurts like hell.” Sienna replied. 

Selena watched closely as Erik’s thumb stroked Sienna’s foot. She caught his eyes and he drew his hand back quickly. 

“X-ray is here…”

Erik stood up and motioned towards Selena to leave the room. They exited the room and closed the curtain halfway behind them. The X-ray tech named Samantha started setting up for the X-ray. Erik stood a safe distance away to avoid radiation. Sienna did not like the positions she had to put her ankle and foot in, but it had to be done. When the X-ray tech was finished, Erik rushed over to examine the images before the tech sent them for reading by the radiologist. 

“Girl, I can’t believe this happened.”

Selena was back inside with her arms folded. Sienna looked up at her friend and she could tell that she was pissed about something. 

“Me neither. This was not on my bingo card…I don’t need this shit, especially since it’s my last week of clinical…”

“I’m sure you’ll be home now after this. I’m actually a little jealous,” Selena gave Sienna a teasing smile, “Anyways, what’s up with Dr. Stevens?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you not notice how weird he was acting?”

Sienna tried to play off Selena’s question by moaning in pain. That caught Erik’s attention, because he was back inside. 

“So, it’s not broken, which is good news. The bad news is that it is dislocated. So, I’ll have to put it back in place…”

Sienna visibly blanched. 

“I’m sorry, Sienna. Lori, stabilize her upper leg…”

Selena left the room and watched from the hall. 

“I need counter traction…”

Sienna exhaled harshly. She tried to brace herself but the pain was too much. Erik grasped the heel of her foot with one hand, her dorsal metatarsals with the other. He slightly plantar-flexed Sienna’s foot and that’s when she screamed in agony.

“Breathe…we’re almost done…you got this…I need another assistant!”

Kizzy rushed in and Erik instructed her to apply downward pressure on Sienna’s lower leg. 

“Ready? One…two…three…”

Erik pulled forward on her foot in one motion. 

Pop!

Sienna shouted. 

“All done! All done! You did great, Sienna…get her something for pain and some water please…”

Past her blurry vision flooded with tears, she could see Erik staring down at her with emotion. Sienna knew that he wanted to pull her into his embrace and comfort her. 

“Okay, Sienna, We’re going to wait for the radiologist's interpretation of the post reduction images. If it reads negative for a fracture, we’ll get you splinted and send you home with some crutches and a walking-boot. You’ll need to follow up with me within a week and I also recommend some physical therapy until you’re able to bear weight…”

Sienna hung onto his every word. His voice…

“Send in xray to take post-reduction films.”

Lori, Kizzy, and Erik left the room and Samantha came into the room again with the portable X-ray machine. This time around, Sienna’s ankle felt a lot better. She was able to move it on her own.  Erik walked back in and looked over the images carefully. He pressed buttons that flipped through the images, magnified specific areas, and changed the images to negative.

“Do a mortise view…”

Samantha shot one more X-ray and Erik was back in. He did one final thorough look over before nodding his head with approval. 

“Okay…looks good to me…go ahead and send it. Thanks.”

Samantha left the room and Erik stood over Sienna. 

“It’s back in place, Sienna. You did good…real good…was there a wet floor sign?”

“I don’t remember seeing one…”

Erik’s jaw tightened, “They have one fucking job and can’t even put down a sign…I’m gonna find out who’s working this floor today…”

He caressed Sienna’s knee and leaned in to give her a quick kiss on the forehead since the coast was clear.

“I’ll be back. You’re not driving with that injury, Sienna—”

“Erik,” Sienna peeked around him to make sure no one was lingering, “I’ll be fine. It’s my left ankle not my right. I don’t want to leave my car here.” 

Erik wasn’t feeling it but he nodded his head in agreement anyway.

“Fine. But I’m staying with you. I want to take care of you.” 

Erik created some distance between them when Lori entered the room.

“Okay?” Erik questioned, changing the tone of his voice to appear more professional.

“Okay, Dr. Stevens. Thank you.” Sienna said.

___

Sienna struggled to open her apartment door a few hours after her injury. She was given a referral to see a physiotherapist the next day and she just knew that her ankle wouldn’t be the same for at least a month. Apparently, she sprained her ankle as well. She was very happy that she hadn't fractured it. With her door finally opened, Sienna used her crutches to enter her apartment. She managed to shut and lock her door while balancing on her crutches. 

She took off her book bag and sat her lunch bag on her living room table. Sienna flopped down on her sofa and looked down at her splinted ankle. At least her toes looked nice. She noticed it had begun to rain outside. This wasn’t part of the plan. Sienna screwed up her face and sucked her teeth. Erik spending the rest of the week with her sounded lovely, but there was no way she was going to be able to get as nasty as she wanted to with him. 

Sienna couldn’t deny that his serious demeanor and strictness turned her on. He deserved to have his dick ate up when he got there. After some time, Sienna went inside of her backpack to retrieve her personal items and she was back on her good foot with the crutches for balance. In her bedroom now, Sienna propped her crutches up against a wall and sat her things on the bed. She sat down to remove her clothes except for her underwear and she slipped on a nightgown. 

Sienna scrolled through her text messages and read ones from Selena and Erik.

Selena: Hope you made it home safely! Let me know 💕

Sienna texted her back and then she went on to respond to Erik.

Dr. Daddy 🍆💦💞: I am on my way to you. I have my bags packed and ready to take care of my favorite girl. 

Sienna blushed. 

I’m in bed right now waiting for you. 

Sienna was exhausted, all that crying and pain and moving around on an injured foot wore her out. She snuggled her face into her pillow and sleep hit her so fast she didn’t see it coming. 

An hour had gone by and Erik used a spare key Sienna gave him to open the apartment door. He’s dressed in a matching gray hoodie set with white A 1s. His locs are down and framing his handsome face. Erik lugged his two bags into the living room for now and took off his shoes. Smoothing his locs back from his face, Erik walked to Sienna’s bedroom and found her snoring into her pillow. He chuckled and pressed his shoulder against the doorway. It’s true that pretty girls do snore. 

Erik noticed how messy her room is. All of her studies caught up with her and she hadn’t been able to keep things in order. While she slept, Erik took off his hoodie, only a white beater underneath, and started tidying up. He picked up clothes, tossed them in her overflowing hamper. He cleared away unused books and straightened up her vanity. Entering her bathroom, Erik wasn’t shocked to find her dildos in various colors suctioned to her sink; he found some all purpose cleaner beneath her sink and started cleaning. 

It took him thirty minutes to finish. He was in her kitchen now washing dishes after cleaning there. Erik opened her fridge and it was filled with food so he figured he could cook some dinner. He found some salmon fillets, broccolini, and she had potatoes. He took the hair tie from around his wrist and pulled his hair back, one loc falling in his face. 

He went to work boiling the red potatoes and cleaned the salmon and broccolini. Erik moved around the kitchen like it was his place. Well, he did pay bills there now. No other Sugar Daddy did it like Erik. He made sure Sienna didn’t have to lift a finger. Plus, he liked the idea of showing up to her place when she’d least expect it and crawl into her bed to give her some late night nooky. With everything finished, Erik tossed a kitchen towel over his shoulder while making a cream sauce to drizzle over the salmon and mashed potatoes. 

Erik plated the food like he was a chef before leaving the kitchen to wake Sienna. He tiptoed over to her and kissed her warm, brown cheek. Sienna stirred awake and when she opened her eyes and noticed Erik smiling at her she returned the smile. 

“Daddy.” Sienna spoke softly.

“Little mama,” Erik kissed her lips, “I made dinner.”

“Really?” 

“Yes. Sit up for me.”

Sienna rolled over onto her back and stretched her arms above her head. Erik’s eyes admired the night gown she was wearing. It was mini, white, and floral print with a v-neck, spaghetti straps, and a split. Her breasts had fallen out of the top of her nightgown and before she could fix herself, Erik’s lips were sucking on her nipples. 

“They’re always so hard when I wake up…mmm,” Sienna arched her back into his mouth.

Erik palmed both of her breasts and squeezed them gently. Sienna’s eyes fell to his crotch and she could see his sizable print. She reached out a hand and stroked his length. His lips, teeth, and tongue attacked her breasts. He wanted her so bad. With a deep grunt, Erik reluctantly peeled away from her. 

“Sienna, come on,” Erik fixed her nightgown, “I’ll help you up.”

Pouting, Sienna sat up and Erik grabbed the crutches. She placed them beneath her arms and almost tripped. Erik held her by the waist with firm hands and he gave her a disapproving look.

“Did you listen to any of my instructions on how to use these?” Erik lectured.

“I did…it’s hard to walk with these.” Sienna replied with a whiny voice. 

“Don’t lean forward like that. Is that what you were doing?”

“Yes,” Sienna steadied herself, “like this?”

“Yes. Let me see,” Erik took one of the crutches to check the height, “it’s correct. Bend your elbows slightly. You got it?”

“Uh-huh.” 

Erik walked behind Sienna with his hands out to catch her if she stumbled. They made it out towards her dining room and Erik pulled her chair out. Sienna placed both crutches in one hand and reached for the arm of the chair while lowering herself slowly. Erik took the crutches and propped them against a wall before sitting diagonally to her. 

“This smells so good,” Sienna picked up her fork, “And did you clean up?”

She looked up at Erik with her head cocked to the side and pursed lips. Erik simply chuckled at her.

“Erik, you didn’t have to do that. Thank you for everything.” 

“No problem. I wanted to,” Erik grabbed his glass of wine that he’d poured for them, “I know how much you’ve been reviewing and finishing up with school. You’ve got a lot going on.” 

Sienna looked over at Erik and gave him a warm smile.

“How’s the salmon?” Erik asked.

“It’s delicious.”

They sat and ate their food and when they both finished, Erik cleared the table. He returned and helped Sienna up and handed her the crutches.

“Alright. Bath time. Then I want you to study for at least an hour.”

Sienna wanted to fuss about studying, but at least she had a bath to look forward to. Erik had given her baths before. They both made their way towards the bathroom in her room and Erik helped Sienna take off her nightgown and panties. He ran the bath water and added some rose scented bath salts with aromatherapy vanilla scented bubble bath. He found her soap, body scrub, and loofah and when the water had filled he helped Sienna into the tub. Erik secured her braided hair up into a bun so it wouldn’t get wet.

Her splinted foot dangled over the edge of the tub while Erik used the loofah and soap to clean her back first. Sienna leaned forward and gripped the edge of the tub. Erik scrubbed her neck, chest, and stomach. When he started to do her left leg, he was careful not to get the splint wet. 

“You okay?” Erik checked in on Sienna.

“Yes. I feel relaxed.” 

After cleaning her right leg, Erik switched out for a wash rag to clean her privates. 

“I gotta get down there, little mama…”

Sienna spread her legs and rolled her eyes. 

“What?” Erik paused.

“I’m horny.” 

Erik elevated a brow.

“Spread your legs.”

Sienna did as she was told and Erik cleaned her vagina and ass. Sienna whimpered in his ear and it was her way of telling him that she wanted her daddy to make her cum. 

“Why can’t you make me cum, daddy?” Sienna whined.

“Because you need to study.” 

“I can study tomorrow. I just want you to make me feel good. It’s been two weeks…”

Erik knew that. He knew it had been too long since he’d been snug between her walls.

“Baby girl, you have an important exam coming up that determines your future as a nurse. I need you to study for at least an hour. If you can do that for me, I’ll fuck you, okay?”

“Whatever,” Sienna turned her eyes away from Erik and looked heavenward.

“Whatever? How about I don’t fuck you?”

Sienna turned her eyes towards Erik and the look on his face was enough to make her listen. For now.

“Okay. I’ll study for an hour.” 

“Yes, you will.” Erik replied. 

Erik drained the tub and instructed for Sienna to lift herself up to the edge of the tub. He swung her legs around and picked her up. He wrapped a towel around her and walked her out towards the bedroom.

___

“A 15-month-old toddler who weighs 26 pounds is admitted to the pediatric unit, due to severe dehydration…”

Sienna was currently being rubbed down with shea butter. He finished her right foot and then he found a clean nightgown for her to wear. It was a lilac color with the same style as the previous one she wore. When he finished, Erik excused himself to take a shower. He left the door cracked and Sienna paused her studying. 

She sat up and spread her thighs. Staring down at her waxed pussy, Sienna brought her fingers down to rub her clit. She couldn’t help herself. The way Erik cared for her made her crave sex even more. She wanted to be fucked into the mattress. She brought her fingers to her mouth to suck on and they were back on her clit. Her eyes were glued on the bathroom door. She could hear him in the shower.

The only way she would be able to cum quickly was if she used her vibrator. Sienna looked around her room until she spotted one of her favorite vibrators on her nightstand. It was on the charger and ready for use. She grabbed the hot pink wand and turned it on the lowest setting first. She would have loved to see his naked body covered in soap suds and water but then he would know what she was doing.

Sienna maneuvered her body as best as she could and then she brought her knees to her chest. Vibrator to clit, Sienna moaned as quietly as she could. She would alternate between looking at the door and staring at her clit being pleasured. She could see her creamy, wetness leak from her opening. 

“Unhh—”

She grabbed a pillow to bite on.

Her thighs shook out of control. Thank goodness her ankle was splinted because if it wasn’t she would have dislocated it again. She kept one ear towards the door and she could still hear the water running. Sienna increased the vibrations two notches and she almost bit a hole into the pillow.

“Mm! Mmm! Mmm!” 

She shut her thighs tightly and rolled over onto her side. That vibrator sat between her drenched lips as she climaxed. Sienna was sure that she was going to squirt. She turned the vibrator off quickly and scooted over to her nightstand to put it back on the charger. She fixed her nightgown and went back to lay on her stomach.

Five minutes later, Erik had opened the bathroom door with a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“…The health care provider ( HCP) prescribes an intravenous (IV) bolus of 0.9% Sodium Chloride 25mL/kg to be infused over two hours. What IV rate (mL/hr) will the nurse need to set the infusion pump?”

Sienna tapped her nails on her practice book in thought. 

“Convert the weight into kilograms…so 26 pounds divided by 2.2 equals 11.8 kg…”

Sienna heard the towel drop and her eyes slowly landed on Erik. He was standing at her mirror applying shea butter to his body. Sienna watched him with her mouth hanging open. Erik noticed she had stopped and caught her staring at him through the mirror.

“What are you supposed to be doing?”

Sienna went back to studying.

“Round to 12 kg. Total IV infused is 12 times 25…300 mL. Hourly rate is 300 mL in two hours…so 300 divided by 2 which is 150 mL/hr.”

Sienna circled the correct answer and moved on to the next question. 

Erik had dressed himself in a pair of briefs and sleep pants. Shirtless, he left the room to grab some more wine for them. When he returned, he placed Sienna’s glass on the table next to her and he made himself comfortable on the other side of her. He sat with his back against the headboard, sipping from his wine glass.

“Want me to read the questions?”

“Please,” Sienna handed him the book.

Erik sat the book in his lap and grabbed his glasses. He placed his wine down and with her pencil twirling in his right hand and his left hand rubbing on her booty, he read the next question.

“A client with increased intracranial pressure from a brain tumor is admitted to Neuro ICU. The health care provider (HCP) prescribes 25% mannitol 20 gram intravenous (IV) bolus…”

Sienna nibbled on her bottom lip. She tried to pay attention but Erik’s fingers rubbing on her ass felt so good. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. He looked so sexy with his glasses on and his shirt off. 

“The unit stock is mannitol injection,” Erik glanced at her to make sure she was paying attention, “…In 50 mL water single-dose vials. How many mL will the nurse draw up?”

“Uhm,” Sienna pondered, “So I have to calculate the mL again…”

She grabbed her calculator. 

“What is 12.5 grams in mL, lil’ mama?”

“50 mL.” 

“Okay…and mL equals what?”

“20 grams.” 

“Okay. So 20 times 50 mL divided by 12.5?”

Sienna calculates.

“80 mL.”

“Okay. So, what’s the answer?”

“80 mL.”

“Good girl,” Erik smiled at her and slapped her butt, “You’re gonna pass that NCLEX, baby.” 

Erik leaned down and pressed his plump lips against Sienna’s. 

“Do I have to keep studying?” 

“That hour ain’t up, baby girl.” 

Sienna exhaled and Erik moved onto the next question. 

“The health care provider (HCP) prescribes 5 mg ephedrine IV push—”

“The answer is 1 mL. I’ve seen that question before.”

Erik elevated a brow, “Well, let’s move on then…”

He flipped the page and his hand was back on her ass. They did harder questions within that category to challenge her since she was breezing through the other ones so easily. Sienna started moving her hips so that her butt would rub against Erik’s hand. He cut his eyes at her but she acted as if she hadn’t noticed him looking.

“When a client in the cardiac care unit develops a ventricular arrhythmia, the health care provider (HCP) prescribes a continuous intravenous (IV) infusion of lidocaine at 3 mg/min. Pharmacy prepares 2 grams of lidocaine in a 500 mL bag 5% dextrose in water (D5W). How many mL/hr will the client receive?”

Sienna had carefully rolled over onto her back and placed her body in an upright position. She brought her right knee up while her left leg remained straight. She grabbed her calculator and started calculating on her own while Erik waited. 

“Too many conversations…it’s 45 mL/hr. Now, what do I get in return?”

“A kiss,” Erik’s lips touched hers and he gave her some tongue, “Let’s do two more and then we can call it a night.” 

Sienna couldn’t keep still. She grabbed her wine glass and sipped while bringing her right knee up causing her pussy to become exposed. She didn’t care if he noticed that she made herself cum while he was in the shower. 

“Let’s do some questions from psychosocial…okay…A client with bipolar disorder, manic phase, says to the nurse, hey, beautiful! You’re sure looking pretty today. Which is the nurse's best response?”

“I’m so-and-so, the nurse for this shift.” Sienna replied. 

“Good.” Erik circled the answer. 

“I wonder if they have questions in there about fucking sexy surgeons…”

Erik turned his eyes onto Sienna and he looked down at her pussy. His eyes narrowed slightly and he tightened his jaw. He looked up at her and Sienna held his gaze with a look of confusion.

“…Did you make yourself cum?”

Sienna inspected her nails, “Maybe I did.”

“Sienna,” Erik placed the pencil between the pages of the book and sat the book down on the nightstand, “Didn’t I tell you not to do that?”

“Technically, no,” Sienna took a sip of wine, “You said that you weren’t going to fuck me until I finished studying. You never said not to make myself cum.”

He was silent. He knew she was right.

“Are you mad at me, daddy?”

“No. Because you’re right. I never said that you couldn’t make yourself cum. Did you use your fingers or a toy?”

“My wand,” Sienna pointed to it.

She nibbled on an acrylic nail with this innocent look in her eyes while her pussy was on display and wet. Erik shut his eyes and chuckled slightly with a shake of his head. 

“…You nasty girl.”

He stood up from the bed and walked around to her side. Erik grabbed the wand and noticed some of her cum on it. He gave her a sly smirk before walking up to her. 

“Since you can’t help but to be a nasty little slut, I’m going to use this vibrator on your clit on the highest setting. If you cum before I tell you to, you’re only getting the tip of this dick and nothing else.”

Erik turned on the vibratior and instructed for Sienna to spread her legs. She was still in an upright position. Erik got closer to her and pressed the wand against her clit. She gasped, eyes shutting and head falling back against the headboard.

“No, eyes open, Sienna. I want you to watch the way this vibrator makes that slutty pussy cum. I already know you’re gonna cum. Look at you, pussy leaking…that pretty pink pussy wants some dick?”

Erik strokes her braids from her face and shoves his thumb into her mouth for her to suck on.

“Imagine how it would have been like to fuck me with all this dick in that puss after two weeks…”

His thumb glided across her tongue and down her chin.

“Unh, daddy, Unh, daddy, I’m sorry!”

“Too late for all that,” Erik rubbed Sienna’s stiff clit with the wand back and forth, “That pussy is wet…look at that shit.” 

Sienna dragged her eyes down and whimpered. She writhed on the bed, trying her best not to cum.

“Mhm…don’t you wanna cum, princess?” Erik teased.

She was clenching around nothing and throbbing. To see her pussy react to the vibrator was breathtaking. Erik’s dick created a tent in his sweats. He couldn’t believe how hard he was. So hard that he was poking. It was deliciously painful. 

“DADDY!”

Just as he thought. Sienna was a squirting mess. All over the bed. He turned that vibrator off and placed it on the nightstand. Sienna was trying to catch her breath while lying in a puddle of juices. She watched Erik with low eyes as he undressed. Sienna couldn’t believe how hard he was. That dick is covered in bulging veins and his mushroom tip is a deep purple from how stiff he is. Sienna couldn’t begin to describe the way his balls sat tight and full of cum between his muscular thighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Sienna tried sitting up, “Daddy, I’m so sorry…please…I’m so sorry, daddy. I’ll behave. I promise I’ll be a good girl,” Sienna furrowed her brows as she pleaded for Erik to give her more than the tip, “I’ll listen, I’ll do whatever you say, daddy. Please fuck me all the way…please…”

Her begging made his dick leak pre-cum. The sorry look in her eyes. The desperation in her voice. She was fiening. Erik ignored her and positioned himself between her legs. He made sure her ankle was out of the way. Erik tilted her hips at an angle towards the left and pushed her right leg as far back as it could go until her knee touched her chin. He groaned at the way her pussy sat wide open for him. 

Erik had his dick in his other hand and he started stroking her clit with the head of his dick. The creamy noise of his head brushing against her clit and lips was music to his ears, dragging a deep moan from his mouth. Sienna laid there with doe eyes and a quiver in her lip.

“Keep looking at me like that, baby girl. I like that expression on your face. You think daddy wants to do it this way? You have to listen, baby girl…”

Erik pushes his tip into her waiting hole and it sucked in with the help of her walls. Sienna expects him to push further in, but instead he pulls out to the point where they are barely connected.

 “Daddy—?”

Sienna was interrupted by her own mewling when Erik’s tip was back in her pussy. The smile he gave her was devilish, shaking his head the slightest bit and biting his lip while he continues the slow fucking of his tip. 

Sienna cries out. It was such torture for her. Whenever his tip would sink past her quivering hole, the anticipation for more would soon be severed whenever he pulled out. She tried to move her hips to fuck him back. Erik wasn’t having it. 

Erik tutted disapprovingly, “I know what you’re trying to do, Sienna. It’s not gonna work…”

He sees through her instantly, his large hand pushing on her lower stomach to halt her movements while the other pinned her right thigh down and held it in place. The muscles of his arms flex from the force he applied to keep her still,  and he moans out when he feels her clench around him from his dominance. The way she feels on his tip is driving him insane. Erik is breathing heavily, moaning, and his eyes are half-lidded. 

Erik’s thumb flicks at Sienna’s clit and she squeals in ecstasy. He could feel her leg beginning to tense within his grip and he tried desperately to make her cum first but he was so close. 

“Sienna, daddy’s gonna bust…”

“Yes…yes…”

“So fucking wet…”

“Cum in my pussy, daddy.”

“Oh, shit…fuck.”

“You love my tight, little pussy, daddy?”

“Ahhhh—”

“I’m cumming!”

Erik pulled his tip out and instead jerked himself with three quick pumps and his thick cum spurted from his tip and painted Sienna’s lips. It was so much that it slowly dripped down to the crack of her ass. Erik’s low eyes followed the lazy path his milky-white cum took. It was such a beautiful color against her brown skin. Sienna made her hole wink at him, tempting him to sink back inside and fuck her for real this time. Erik grunted, using the tip of his dick to push his cum inside of her pussy. It made a wet pop each time he would pull out.

Pop. Pop. Pop. 

“Can’t let it go to waste.”

Sienna gathered some of his cum on her fingers and sucked it off. Erik climbed off of the bed to grab a wet rag to wipe her off. When he returned, Sienna was looking up at him expectantly. Erik cleaned her off and after putting the rag in her hamper, he shut off the lights and turned on the TV. They snuggled together while drinking their wine and watching a movie. 

Sienna finished her wine and rolled over onto her side, pushing her ass against Erik’s dick. Erik stilled her hips with a firm grip and brought his lips to the shell of her ear.

“Do that again, and you really won’t get this dick.”

She wanted to cry. 

“But—”

“Brats don’t get what they want whenever they want.” He reminded her. 

___

Erik paced the waiting room of the physical therapy office. He didn’t feel like sitting still and forcing himself to watch the news. It had been an hour since Sienna was escorted back to see the doctor. She had already contacted her nursing program and they gave her an excuse for the remainder of the week from clinicals. She still had to be to school for her review lectures but her and Erik had already formulated a plan for that.

Erik was going to drop her off at school for the rest of the week and pick her up. He already moved his schedule around to fit into hers. He had three cases total that week. One on Wednesday, and two on Thursday. All were scheduled for the following week. He would remain on call if needed and Sienna assured him that if he couldn’t take her to school, she would be okay.

Erik could hear a pair of crutches and his eyes darted to his right. Sienna was guided back out by a physical therapist. They were talking closely and laughing. Erik noticed a folder in the therapist’s hand that most likely belonged to Sienna. 

“We’ll start rehabilitation when your doctor gives you the go to remove your splint. Remember that there are exercises you can do at home in this folder. Dr. Zeal wants you to try and do physical therapy for about three days a week…”

Sienna’s eyes fell on Erik and she gave him a reassuring smile. He returned the smile and greeted the therapist.

“Hi, are you her significant other…?”

“Yes,” Erik said confidently, “I’m also her orthopedic doctor.”

“Wow! That’s great then! You’ll be a good help for her. When can she remove the splint?”

“In two days. She should be able to maneuver better by then.”

“Perfect. Well, we’ll see you soon, Miss Thomas. Take care!”

“Thanks again.”

Sienna and Erik left to the parking lot and Erik made sure she got into the car safely. They drove back to the apartment and Sienna couldn’t stop smiling and blushing. She tried to hide it by staring out of the window, but Erik caught her.

“Why are you blushing?” Erik asked with a smirk.

“She asked if you were my significant other…”

A smile plastered on his face.

“I did, didn’t I? I don’t know…it just came out.”

“Mhm,” Sienna gave him a knowing smile.

“What?” Erik glanced at her.

“Nothing,” Sienna shifted her hips to face him, “Sienna Stevens…”

Erik’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He rolled his lips shut but those dimples were deep in his cheeks.

“Has a nice ring to it,” She joked, “I’m hungry.” 

“I’ll make you lunch when we get back.” 

They arrived at the apartment and Erik helped Sienna out of the car. Erik held the door open so she could go inside. They rode the elevators up to her floor and when they got off Erik opened the door, holding it so Sienna could go in first. 

“Go change into something more comfortable while I make you some lunch. A salad with leftover salmon from last night sounds okay?”

“Yes! Thank you, daddy!”

“You’re welcome, beautiful.” 

Erik is in the kitchen and he washes his hands thoroughly before opening Sienna’s fridge to grab some red and green tomatoes, Romaine lettuce, red onions, and the leftover salmon. He found some Italian vinaigrette and Parmesan cheese so he could toss the salad in it. He also managed to discover some garlic herb croutons as well that hadn’t been opened. 

Erik opened a few drawers until he found a miscellaneous one with a pair of scissors. He went to grab the scissors that were tucked beneath a pile of unopened mail and a Polaroid picture caught his eye. His forehead puckered as he retrieved the picture. Erik’s eyebrows raised as he studied the picture closely. 

Sienna was naked and lying on a bed covered in black silk sheets. She was positioned on her back with her legs spread open and her pussy on display. She had a bright smile on her face with her eyes tightly shut. Erik read the words written in ink at the bottom of the Polaroid.

Zane’s nasty little slut 2.14.2021

Erik noticed two more pictures and inspected those as well. The second photo, Sienna was looking up into the camera with a man’s dick in her mouth. That same look on her face is the same look she gave Erik when she was on her knees for him.

My throat goat :) 2.14.2021

Lastly, Sienna’s back is arched in the next photo and she’s receiving back-shots. 

I love my bitch <3 2.14.21

“I’m changed!—”

Erik put the photos back speedily and shut the drawer when Sienna walked in. She was wearing an oversized graphic T-shirt that fit her loosely. He could tell she had no bra underneath and he was sure no panties as well. She beamed at him with that cute smile and then her eyes traveled down to the scissors in his left hand. Her smile slowly faded from her lush lips.

“I needed to cut open the croutons. I’m almost finished.”

Erik sized her up before turning his back to her to grab some plates. He figured they could eat the salmon cold on top of the salad. 

“Need some help?”

Sienna startled Erik with her hands smoothing up his back. Erik craned his neck to look behind him and down at her short frame.

“No, little mama. Go sit your pretty self down.” 

She turned and that’s when Erik noticed she wasn’t walking with crutches.

“Where are your crutches, Sienna?”

“Oh shit,” She looked up at him timidly, “I’m okay.” 

Erik shook his head at her, “Go sit down.”

Erik walked away to grab her crutches. While he was gone, Sienna quickly scooted over to the drawer and opened it. She noticed that the photos were there and her stomach dropped. He’d seen them. She shut the drawer silently and went back to sit at her dining table. Erik walked out and she put on a smile. He plated the food and was back in the dining room. Sienna watched him closely as he made his way around the kitchen, grabbing bottled water for them to drink. She could tell he was thinking about it.

“Thank you.” 

Erik smirked at her and picked up his butter knife and fork to cut up his salmon. The silence between them was killing her. Sienna sat her utensils down and folded her hands in her lap. She exhaled before looking over at Erik. His onyx eyes lifted to stare at her.

“His name was Zane. He’s my ex.” 

She didn’t know why but she felt that she needed to clear that up. Erik simply sat there, eyes blinking at her as she spoke.

“We broke up because I got accepted into nursing school here and he didn’t want me to leave Texas…”

Sienna’s eyes fell to her lap. Erik watched her with a penetrating stare for a moment before he pulled his gaze away to his plate. 

“I do miss him, but I’m over that…”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, Sienna.”

She looked up at him. 

“Are you upset?”

Erik didn’t know how to answer that. Truthfully, Sienna didn’t belong to him. She could fuck and suck on whoever she wanted. But, Erik couldn’t deny that he felt jealous. This young man was a part of her past before him and yet seeing her in those photos like that sparked something in him. He wanted to burn those photos. 

“No.” Erik finally said.

“Are you lying to me?” Sienna questioned.

“Do you want me to be angry?” Erik asked with an expression of annoyance.

“I want you to tell me how you feel. I know you don’t like what you saw.” 

Erik skimmed the side of his teeth with his tongue.

“Okay,” He turned to face her, “I think you should get rid of them. If you’re over it, why keep them around?”

Sienna stiffened. 

“I…a part of me thought that I would somehow reunite with him…but that was before I met you.” 

Sienna’s right foot jiggled beneath the table. 

“I honestly forgot about them,” Sienna looked down at her plate.

“Okay…”

Erik reached out to stroke Sienna’s knee and then his hand came up to lift her chin. 

“Seeing those photos made me realize something,” Erik tugged at his shirt collar, “I don’t want to be your sugar daddy anymore.” 

Sienna bowed her head and sadness overtook her features instantly.

“I want to be your man.” 

Her head shot up so quickly she could have injured her neck. Her eyes glistened as she looked Erik in the eyes with bewilderment. Erik stood up and he lifted her to her feet. He held onto her hands and his eyes held her gaze with such intensity and confidence. 

“I’ve wanted to be your man for a while now. I wish this was a more romantic moment…and I’ll make up for that…but I can’t keep my feelings all bottled up anymore, Sienna. I want this to be real between us. Will you be my woman?”

Sienna glanced up at the ceiling while trying to blink away tears. She closed her eyes and exhaled and a smile slowly formed on her lush lips. She opened her eyes and looked at Erik.

“Yes, I’ll be your woman, Erik.” 

Erik closed the space between them and cupped her face in his hands before crashing his lips against hers. Their tongues danced with desperation. Sienna brought her arms around his neck and pressed her body against his as if she were trying to connect with him. Heads swiveling back and forth, hands gripping, hearts pounding, they kissed with passion. Erik picked Sienna up and she straddled his waist. 

Food neglected, Erik walked with her wrapped around his body towards her room. He pushed the door open roughly, causing it to swing open hard. He dropped Sienna down on the bed, taking a second to make sure he hadn’t bothered her left foot before taking off his T-shirt in such a frenzy. He didn’t wait for Sienna to undress herself, Erik’s hands were on the hem of her withered T-shirt and he pulled it over her head madly causing her braids to fall into her face. 

He yanked his sweatpants and briefs down and kicked his feet out in double quick time. The sound of hurried breaths and rustling filled the room. His locs framed his face like a wild man as he looked down at her. His chest heaved up and down like he’d run a marathon. Erik pushed Sienna down and her body bounced. His large, powerful hands spread her thighs and pushed forward so that her hips opened up more. His eyes never left hers as he lowered to his knees on that carpet and sucked her pussy lips into his mouth. 

“UNH!” 

Sienna sat up to watch him. Her round, full breasts bounced from her constant writhing. He stroked her pussy with his strong tongue and then his plump lips would slurp all over her clit like it was a tiny sickle. She grabbed a handful of his locs and curled her toes. Erik had his eyes shut and the noises he made while devouring her pussy was so primal. Erik pinned her thighs back with his arms outstretched and his hands hooked beneath her knees. He didn’t leave her ass untouched. He spit in her asshole and put a finger there while sucking on her pussy. 

“Fuck, yes, daddy!” 

Sienna squealed on a loop. 

“Eat your pussy! This is your pussy!”

That finger in her ass and his mouth all over her pussy had Sienna cross-eyed. 

“Yesahhhhhfuckkkkkkkk…ahh…uhhh…uhuh…fu–uhhhh…oh!”

She made a bridge with her back and clamped Erik’s face between her trembling thighs. 

Sienna finally let go of his hair and Erik stood to his feet. He breathed out harshly with a wet beard. His dick stood out like a flag pole. He didn’t have much to say when he stretched out on the bed. Still breathing heavily, Erik had two hands on his shaft and he pointed his big-ass-dick at Sienna’s full lips. She laid on her side and Erik gathered her braids in his grip tight. She wrapped a hand around his base and it was so heavy in her hand. Sienna fit her hungry lips around Erik’s wide tip and she struggled to lower her mouth over  him because he was so fucking hard.

“Get down on this dick, girl. It’s been in your mouth too much for you to struggle.” Erik barked out.

She relaxed her throat and gently opened her mouth wider, sinking deeper.

“Good girl…good FUCKING girl.”

Right hand on his sack, left hand pumping, and lips sucking. Sienna kept her eyes on him and Erik was biting on his bottom lip with his eyes low and wanton. 

“I ate that puss, huh? Yeah…it’s really mine now. Ain’t no faking that shit, little mama.”

Erik pressed his heels into the mattress and with the strength of his toned and sculpted hips he fed her mouth with more dick. 

guck guck ekkk guck guck pop! guck guck.

Spit bubbles covered his balls. Erik chuckled and then his eyelids fluttered and his lips parted.

“Make daddy cum, nasty girl,” Erik shut his eyes and dragged his teeth over his bottom lip, “You’re my nasty little girl.”

Sienna stroked and sucked and she could feel Erik’s hand shake around her braids. His toes curled under and that moan-grunt combo that made her pussy wet billowed from his plump lips.

“Drink it down…uh–hhhhhhuhhhhhh—“

Sienna sucked on his tip with no hands and another wave of cum hit her tongue. Erik let her hair go and he got out of bed and walked to her hallway. He returned with a fresh rag and went to the bathroom to wet it. When he returned, he cleaned all the spit from her face with his eyes glued to hers. Erik tossed the rag at the end of the bed and positioned Sienna on her back on the edge of the bed. 

Erik stood between her legs and lined his dick up with her waiting hole. With one thrust he was deep and Sienna cried out. Erik hooked his arms beneath her knees and kept Sienna pinned to the bed while he hunched over her. Toes digging into the carpet, calve muscles burning, thigh muscles flexed, abs and hips working in conjunction, Erik drilled Sienna. 

“Got that little pussy weeping all over my dick!”

“Yes!”

His thrusts were sharp and precise. Sienna dug her nails into his biceps. 

“Cum for daddy…”

Sienna convulsed against his sweaty chest.

“There you go, good girl.”

Clapping noises from their tacky skin filled the room.

“I love you, Sienna.” Erik declared with a shaky voice.

She was too overstimulated to form coherent words but the way her eyes flooded with tears and the tremble in her bottom lip when she tried to form the words I love you too was enough for him. He wanted to give her the world. He meant every word that uttered from his lips. And she knew it.

They touched foreheads and Erik slowly stroked her pussy, rocking her back and forth. They’re equally full lips molded together in a sensual french kiss. Erik released their kiss with a wet smack and looked down at Sienna with wet eyes. She watched as tear drops landed on her cheek. He gritted his teeth and tightened his sculpted jaw. The tip of his nose turned faintly red and it was the cutest thing Sienna had ever seen.

She wiped away his tears and Erik did the same for her. They stared at each other and then slowly smiles crept up their faces. Erik licked his lips and leaned in to kiss on Sienna’s neck. His lips created a path to her breasts where he showed her nipples some love too. Sienna tightened her walls around his dick like she was doing kegels. Erik popped a nipple out of his mouth and then he sat up to maneuver Sienna’s pliant thighs back as far as she could stand it. 

He continued to dick her down and the way he would look at his dick fucking her and up into her glossy eyes made her squirt. 

“You’re so perfect,” Erik pounded, “Everything about you is so perfect.” 

She was overcome with emotion that all she could do was cry on that dick. He thought she was perfect. That warmed her heart. 

“Sienna…Sienna…Sienna…”

He moaned her name over and over. 

“I’m cumming for you, Sienna…Gahdamn—”

Erik’s dick pulsated inside of her pussy with his release. Sienna tilted her head forward and Erik met her lips. He let her legs go and massaged her inner thighs. 

“I don’t wanna leave…”

She couldn’t believe it, he was fucking her again. The amount of slip from their mixed fluids sent tingles all over her body. 

“I got more for you, baby—”

“Give me that nut—”

“Here it comes—”

“Daddy, cum in your pussy—”

His body spasmed above her and he moaned in her ear. It was divine. 

“Fuck, little mama,” Erik’s sweaty cheek touched against hers, “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

His dick finally slipped out and Sienna sat up to see how it looked. It was semi hard and covered in cum. His sweaty body looked like a masterpiece. Erik smoothed his locs from his face and gave her a lazy smirk. 

“That was probably the best session we’ve had so far.” Sienna said.

“Yeah, ain’t nothing topping that.” Erik replied. 

He leaned over her and gave her a quick peck on the lips. Standing at his full height again, Erik walked with slow strides towards the bathroom and turned on the shower. He returned and helped Sienna to her feet.

“We can take the splint off for the shower.”

They took turns using the bathroom and then Erik sat Sienna on the toilet to take off her splint. He examined her ankle and he could tell that the swelling had gone down. The bruise was much smaller but a deep purple. He kissed her ankle and foot before helping her to her feet.

“Let me see you put weight on it.”

Sienna carefully placed the bottom of her foot flat against the bathroom floor. She hissed when she shifted her weight to stand straighter. Erik had her by the waist. 

“How is it?” 

“I can stand on it but it feels weird and it hurts if I try to walk forward.”

“Okay. But is it better than the day of the injury? Try flexing.”

“It’s better but,” Sienna frowned her face in discomfort, “it’s still sore. It hurts more when I flex down than up.”

“Aight. Splint stays on for two more days and then we move on to physical therapy.”

Erik had to hold her the entire time they were in the shower. She braced herself against the wall and made sure she didn’t make any sudden movements. As much as they would have loved to fool around in the shower, she needed to avoid further injury. 

When they finished, Erik wrapped her towel around her body and helped her out first. He toweled her down and watched her walk into the room to sit on her bed. Erik dried off and joined her so they could rub down with shea butter. Afterwards, bodies glistening and smelling good, Sienna sat in a chair while Erik changed her sheets. They were both exhausted from all the sex so Erik spooned Sienna’s naked body beneath the sheets and they both fell into deep slumber.

———

Selena had called Sienna the fifth time. She was outside of her apartment now with notes in her hand from today’s review lecture on pharmacology. She knew that Sienna would need detailed notes and she tried calling her to let her know that she would be stopping by to drop them off and check on her, but she hadn’t returned her calls.

Selena started to grow worried about her friend. She was dressed in scrubs because today was lab day. Her peanut butter skin was flushed from the heat and her wavy hair was pulled back into a neat bun. Selena knocked and waited for her friend to come to the door. After ten seconds she knocked again. 

Meanwhile, Sienna opened her eyes and blinked to adjust. She sat up on her elbow and turned over to look at Erik. He was sound asleep on his back with his head twisted to the side. She smiled at his sleeping face before leaning down to kiss his cheek. That’s when she heard the knocks. Sienna pulled the sheets back from her bed with a puzzled look on her face. She climbed out of bed carefully and limped over towards her closet door to retrieve her silk robe. Securing it, Sienna grabbed her crutches and she left the room. 

Out in the living room, the knocks started again and she didn’t want to shout and wake Erik. He deserved the rest after everything he did for his woman. Sienna peered through the peephole and her body froze. She took a minute to collect herself before opening the door. Selena looked at her with relief swimming in her eyes. Sienna gave her friend a smile and offered for her to come in. 

“I made copies of my notes for you,” Selena sat them down on her coffee table, “How are you, girl? I called you five times.” 

“Good. Getting better. Sorry…I was a little tied up,” Sienna looked around the living room, “Thanks for making me copies, Selena. That reminds me, I really gotta get some studying done.”

“You know I got you girl. I’m happy you’re doing better. What did the physical therapy doctor say?”

“So,” Sienna spoke softly, “I have to meet with them when Dr. Stevens gives me the okay to take this splint off. Should be within a couple of days. I’m dreading it.”

“Girl, you better do it. You don’t want problems in the future do you?” Selena said.

“Nah, I can’t afford to have that.” Sienna replied with a dry laugh. 

Selena could tell that Sienna was distracted. She didn’t move further into her apartment like she normally would. Selena’s eyes darted from left to right and she tilted her head at Sienna with furrowed brows.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” Sienna exhaled, “Just, exhausted.”

Selena stood up and walked up to Sienna. She boldly smoothed her braids from her shoulder and smiled at her. Sienna returned the smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. 

“It’s been a while since, you know,” Selena arched a thick brow and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Ha,” Sienna licks her lips, “Yeah, it has been.”

“I was thinking that maybe you could use a release to make you feel better…”

Selena closed the space between them and her lips were centimeters away from Sienna’s. She could smell chocolate on her breath. Selena’s lips pressed into Sienna’s and she broke the kiss quickly. Selena furrowed her brows at Sienna for not reciprocating the way she had expected.

“…did I do something wrong?” She gave Sienna a once-over.

“Selena…”

Sienna looked her friend in the eyes.

“What is it?” Selena pushed. 

She folded her arms across her chest.

“I have to tell you something—”

“Baby girl…”

Out into the living room walked a naked Dr. Stevens. He looked like one of those Greek sculptures and his third leg was almost at full attention. Even on soft it looked heavy. Selena’s eyes bulged out and her mouth dropped open. Sienna stood there with shock and when Erik finally noticed them standing there he froze.

“SHIT—”

He grabbed his jacket to cover his crotch. He looked like a helpless man standing there in his beautiful naked glory. His eyes darted back and forth between Selena and Sienna until finally he opened his mouth to cut the tension.

“Hello, Selena.”

Erik waved at her awkwardly. He bowed his head and rocked back and forth on his heels.

“I can explain—”

“You’ve been fucking him?!!”

“Yes,” Sienna finally admitted, “I have. For a while now.” 

“What’s a while?!”

“Since before me and you first messed around…”

“That was months ago, Sienna—what the hell?! I thought you hated him!”

Erik raised a brow and looked at Sienna. The corner of his mouth ticked up into a faint smirk. She turned her face away from him so he wouldn’t make her smile.

“Well, turns out I didn’t. I was attracted to him.”

Selena couldn’t believe it. She looked hurt by that. Sienna drew in a breath and tried to reason with her friend.

“You can understand why I didn’t say anything, right? I mean…for obvious reasons.” 

Selena chuckled but it wasn’t because she thought the situation was funny. She was angry. Jealous even.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” She looked at Sienna with hurt eyes, “And we had sex.”

Selena closed her mouth and shut her eyes. She looked like she had more to say but instead she turned and walked towards the door. Sienna tried to keep up with her and Erik stayed rooted to the spot because of his nudity.

“Selena, wait—”

“Have fun fucking him! I’m sure it was worth it!”

It was.

“Selena!”

She marched out of the door and down the hall. Sienna huffed and turned her eyes on Erik.

“Let her go, Sienna.” He said. 

Sienna made her way back into the apartment and shut the door. Erik sat his jacket down and walked over to her. He rubbed her arms affectionately. Sienna gave a bitter laugh.

“Sienna,” Erik held her gaze, “Selena likes you more than friends.” 

Sienna knew this deep down. 

“I have to talk to her. I feel horrible.”

“Well,” Erik cocked his head to the side, “You had every right to keep this between us. And we still should for the time being until you graduate. Do you trust that she’ll keep her mouth shut?”

Selena shrugged, “I—I hope so. She wouldn’t do that…”

“A real friend wouldn’t sabotage their friendship by doing something like that. I agree, you should talk to her. If you want, share it with her. Be honest. But don’t feel bad for doing what’s right for you. No disrespect, but you didn’t owe her that.” 

“I know, I just…she looked hurt.”

Erik rubbed Sienna’s shoulders. She bowed her head and Erik tilted her chin up at him.

“It’s gonna be alright, baby. You ladies will work it all out.��� 

___

A week had gone by and Sienna’s physical therapy sessions were going pretty well. She returned to school and was able to get around fine on her ankle. Erik had a lot going on at work so their time together was short whenever they could schedule it. 

Sienna walked into her nursing class wearing navy blue scrubs and her all white HOKA shoes. Her left ankle is in an air brace with an ace bandage. It was the last day to review for women and infant health. She sat towards the back of the classroom and Selena looked up from her open notebook to stare at Sienna. 

They hadn’t spoken since Selena discovered that Sienna had been messing around with Dr. Stevens. Sienna waved to Selena and she returned the wave with a small smile. As she took her seat, she thought about how Selena must have felt when she saw Erik. Jealous? Angry? Sad? Betrayed? It wasn’t like they were in a relationship. Just two friends messing around. 

The lecture began and Sienna zoned out after thirty minutes. All she could think about was Erik declaring his love for her. She caught herself daydreaming about the blissful weekend they had at her apartment. She threw those Polaroids away and loved on her new man. There was a slight difference in their sex now. It was more passionate. Erik couldn’t go without telling Sienna that he loved her while he was balls deep.

“Miss. Thomas…”

Sienna blinked and focused her attention on her professor. They were passing around activity sheets for them to practice possible exam questions. She accepted the pile of papers, placed one in front of her, and passed it on to the student sitting beside her. Sienna glanced back over her shoulder at Selena and she caught Sienna’s eye. 

“Meet after class?” Sienna mouthed.

Selena nodded her head in agreement. 

After two hours of lecture, they took a break and Sienna waited for Selena outside of the classroom. She checked the time on her I watch to make sure they had enough time to grab something quick to eat at the cafeteria before they had to start the lab. Selena exited the classroom and walked up to Sienna. She smirked at her before opening her arms to pull Sienna in for a hug. They embraced each other and turned to walk in the opposite direction.

“You’re not still mad at me, are you?” Sienna asked.

Selena shoved her hair away from her face when they walked outside towards the cafeteria. 

“I was. Let’s forget about it.” Selena replied.

“No, we should talk about it.” Sienna urged.

“I have questions that you probably don’t want to answer because…you know…”

Sienna chewed on her bottom lip.

They walked into the cafeteria and settled on some pizza. Sienna found a table near a window for them to sit and eat. Selena took a bite of her supreme pizza and Sienna plucked the olives off of hers. 

“So, I want to tell you about Erik and I.” Sienna finally spoke.

Selena nodded her head slowly, “Okay…”

“I mean, if you don’t want to know—”

“I do.” Selena replied, cutting Sienna off.

“Alright,” Sienna sat up straighter and leaned in, “So…he actually came onto me first. He found my Sugar Daddies Meet profile and we pretty much matched. It was the day that he called me into his office. Remember that? Anyway, the next day he took me to school, then he took me to lunch and after lunch we went back to his place…”

“…We pretty much talked about me becoming his sugar baby and what my allowance would be. After that, We went to his room and…”

Sienna shivered. Reminiscing on what it was like to have that dick for the first time made her shudder. 

“Focus.” Selena jokes.

“Yeah, so we had sex—I forgot to mention he gifted me this,” Sienna lifted her shirt a little to show Selena the belly ring, “And pretty much he’s been spoiling me and being such a gentleman. We’re actually in a relationship now so…”

Sienna was giddy. She smiled with all her teeth and her shoulders went up. She acted like a teenager with a crush. 

“You’re serious?” Selena asked with shock in her voice.

“He asked me to be his woman and I said yes. It was beautiful, Selena. I’m actually in love with him and I did not expect that but here I am.” 

“Wow,” Selena wilted, “That’s…that’s great, girl.” 

Sienna tilted her head at Selena, “What do you think?”

“…I think it’s risky. I think you should be more careful. Especially since Lori already suspects that Dr. Stevens has a crush on you.”

“Really?!” Sienna lowered her voice, “What?”

“After you left, around dinner time me and Lori went on break together. We were talking about you and what happened, and then she mentioned that she’d noticed Dr. Stevens taking an interest in you.”

Sienna didn’t feel like they were obvious in front of everyone, but if Lori felt as if something were going on, then maybe they weren’t being careful.

“Did you suspect anything?” Sienna questioned.

“I did, believe it or not. The day you hurt your ankle, I could just sense it. And he had touched your knee all soft and gentle. And then there’s the constant requests for you to assist in his surgeries. Girl, you had Taylor pissed for a while because certain surgeries that he did she wanted to see for experience.”

Sienna chuckled and Selena laughed with a shake of her head.

“So, he wasn’t feeling a type of way about us?” 

“No,” Sienna bites her bottom lip, “it actually turned him on. He’s such a freaky man.” 

“Uhhhh TMI?!!!” 

They laughed.

“Sienna looked over at her friend with kind eyes, “Selena…I’m sorry if I ever led you on. I didn’t know how you truly felt about us…”

A flush crept up Selena’s face and she turned her gaze towards the window. 

“You didn’t lead me on…I’ll admit I was crushing hard on you…but I understand that your feelings are elsewhere…it’s not fair for me to be angry with you when it was clear that we weren’t—”

Selena stopped herself. Her expression closed up and Sienna waited for her to finish.

“I’m happy for you, girl,” Selena plastered a smile on her face, “I am, really. Just…be careful, okay? I don’t want word to get back to the program and you mess up your chance of graduating.”

It was refreshing to know that Selena wouldn’t snitch out of spite. It was also a relief that they were able to talk about it. 

“Thanks, Selena. I really really like him. I know you might think he’s too old for me—”

“Girl, do you! I didn’t even think about the age difference. How old is he?”

“He’s fourty-six.” Sienna said.

“So that’s…nineteen or twenty years older?”

“Twenty.” 

“Live your life, Sienna. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. As long as he respects you, that’s all that matters. A lot of older men love to manipulate women younger than them.”

“He’s definitely not like that. He’s dominant but not in a way where he’s dictating my life, you know? He knows and understands that I’m a woman and he lets me flourish in my independence. He spoils me because he wants to. He’s a gentleman and an overall nice guy because he respects me as a woman. I feel safe with him. I can be myself around him…”

Sienna’s heart nearly skipped a beat. 

“Sounds like you’ve met your soulmate.” Selena said.

“It does, doesn’t it?” Sienna grinned.

“I feel like the next time I see him it's gonna be so awkward,” Selena palmed her forehead, “I saw this man’s junk!”

Sienna giggled, “That was A LOT.”

Selena doubled over with laughter, “I see why you’re hooked!”

“Shut up!” Sienna rolled her eyes with laughter.

“Seriously, the man is BLESSED—my bad! Let me stop this is too much—”

“Not what you expect to see outside of his scrubs, huh?!” Sienna jokes.

“Actually, the body does match the face! It’s the whole situation that’s got me shocked like…this man walks out full blown naked—”

“Stop!” Sienna shouted between laughter.

“So, he’s your version of McDreamy from Grey’s Anatomy?”

“Derek ain’t got shit on Erik, okay?!” Sienna sassed.

After they finished laughing and wiping away tears, they finished their pizza and headed back to the classroom. On their walk back, Erik texted Sienna about their weekend plans. It was Friday so he wanted to know when she’d be home so he could pick her up. 

Dr.Daddy 💦🍆💞: Hey, baby. Let me know when you get home so I can be on my way to you. I had a short day today. 

Sienna typed away on her phone and Selena had to grab her by the arm so she wouldn’t walk into another student on campus. 

“Is that Erik?” Selena asked

“Yeah, he’s taking me out this weekend. He wants to spoil me since I’ve been cooped up in my apartment with this fucked up ankle.” 

“Let me know how that goes.” Selena responded with a knowing smile.

———

Erik had a special weekend planned for Sienna. Although they made things official, he wanted to do it right the second time around and relive the moment. On his way to pick up Sienna, Erik stopped by a florist shop he liked and picked up a strikingly beautiful bouquet. It’s a vivid bouquet full of red roses and stargazer lilies surrounded by pink waxflower and seasonal greens. 

Tonight, he reserved a table at STK San Francisco. He’d been once before two years ago with his ex wife and he remembered that Sienna had wanted to go. He reserved a table and after dinner he arranged for a romantic set up back at his penthouse with a trail of rose pedals leading up towards the master bedroom with champagne on ice, candlelight, and a special gift for her. 

Erik dressed himself in a black button-down dress shirt with slim fit black slacks and black leather lace-up Oxford shoes. He accessorized with a diamond Cuban link chain and matching bracelet with various diamond finger rings. He drove his all black Rolls-Royce Wraith for the date night. 

He was at Sienna’s door and he opened it with his key. Stepping inside, He spotted Sienna applying Mac Ruby-Woo lipstick to her lips in a compact mirror from her black YSL clutch. Erik’s eyes drank her in. She wore this black dress that dropped at her ankles and hugged her body like it was painted on. On her feet were black stilettos with her toes out and simple gold jewelry was her choice of accessory. Gold rings on her fingers, a thin gold necklace with a letter E Erik had gotten for her as a random gift last week. Her ears were decorated with gold chandelier earrings. The makeup she wore made her look like a vixen. A smokey eye and a bold red lip. Her braids were styled in a bun at the nape of her neck. 

“You look amazing,” Erik held out her flowers, “This is for you…”

“So do you. Thank you, baby,” Sienna pecked Erik’s lips so that she wouldn’t stain them with her lipstick, “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise. I’ll grab your overnight bag…”

Sienna sniffed the flowers with her eyes shut while walking past Erik. Erik picked up her bag from the couch and opened the door for her. 

“I can’t stop looking at you. And that perfume you’re wearing…baby, that’s your scent.” 

“Jimmy Choo I Want Choo Forever. You gifted me that, remember?”

“I bought you so many gifts I can’t keep up,” Erik chuckled, “How was school?”

“Intense. But it was a good day. I talked to Selena.”

They were outside and Erik opened the door for Sienna. He shut her door and went around to the other side. 

“How did that go?” 

Erik started the car and they drove off.

“It went well. I’m happy we got to talk. How was work?”

Erik drives one-handed. Sienna stroked his thigh with her left hand and Erik caressed her knee with his thumb.

“Man,” Erik shook his head, “Had two cases. A Diskectomy in the morning and that was hell. You know how I do, I get shit done. But if my staff isn’t aligned with the way I work, the flow is fucked. So, I had to chew some heads off,” Erik laughed with Sienna, “You know, baby girl. I needed order. Anyway, got that knocked out. Boom, so we have an ACL Reconstruction in the afternoon and nobody wanted to get on my bad side. We breezed through that and I was satisfied.” 

“I loved watching you work,” Sienna said, “You’re always so precise and you’re just great at what you do. Working the floor during clinical, I’ve had so many patients leave good reviews about you.”

“I’m touched, truly,” Erik smiled, “At the end of the day, I do what I do to make people’s lives easier. No one wants to be under anesthesia and poorly operated on. It leaves a bad impression…and a liability.” 

Erik and Sienna laughed. 

“You’re gonna do great things, Sienna. You’re such a good student.” Erik said.

“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I haven’t been feeling like it lately.” 

Erik made a turn after the light turned green. 

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“The pressure. Nursing is so hard. I have this picture perfect image of myself in my mind and I don’t want to fuck up.”

Erik hummed, “I get that. But listen to me, mistakes will be made, baby. You learn from them. It took me years. I didn’t feel confident in myself until I was almost forty years old. It comes with time. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You have awards for your success.” Sienna teased.

“And I accept it. I’ve worked hard.” Erik cocked his head and smiled.

Sienna linked her hand with Erik’s and rubbed the back of his hand with her thumb. 

“I love you,” Sienna said.

“I love you too, baby.” Erik replied.

He brought her hands to his lips and kissed the back of it. They finally arrived and Erik opened Sienna’s door. She stepped out and gasped, turning towards Erik and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. He lifted her off of the ground and kissed her cheek.

“I remember you wanted to try it. Come on,” Erik held out his hand for her to take.

STK Steakhouse blends the modern steakhouse and a chic lounge into one, offering a dynamic, fine dining experience with the superior quality of a traditional steakhouse.  

STK distinguishes itself by emphasizing the social experience and taking a vibe-driven approach to fine dining. Every venue has a DJ to create an infectious, high-energy atmosphere and the sleek environment is designed to encourage guests to interact and mingle. Ultimate, STK aims to define the modern dining experience complete with incredible food, world-class service and the perfect ambiance.

“Hello! Name?”

“Stevens.” 

“Right this way!”

The hostess led Sienna and Erik to a window seat with a beautiful view of the nocturnal city. The roads were slick and wet from a previous rainfall and it acted as a reflection for the architecture that was San Francisco. Their waiter, Sophia, pranced over excitedly and greeted them with a gleaming white smile. Her arctic blue eyes were striking and friendly. 

“I’m Sophia! I’ll be your waiter for the evening. Unfortunately, happy hour is over, but I would be happy to give you guys our regular drink menu.”

“Hello, Sophia. We’ll have a bottle of your Veuve Clicquot Yellow Label and two waters with lemon.” Erik ordered. 

“Perfect,” Sophia types that into her tablet, “Any starters for you tonight?”

“Your tuna tartare and…the fried calamari.” 

“Alright. I will be back with your water and champagne.” 

“Thank you,” Erik focused his attention back to Sienna, “The music here is great, isn’t it?”

Sienna listened and started bouncing her head to the AfroBeats song, “I love this song.”

“I think I have this on my playlist. I’ve been meaning to ask you, is your family coming up to see you graduate?”

Sienna shook her head, “No. I do have plans to spend a weekend with them to celebrate though.”

“That would be nice.” Erik said.

“I would like for you to come…if you can.”

Erik smiled at Sienna and reached across the table to grab her hand, “I’d love to, baby. I have to see what my schedule is looking like. I may be able to sneak away.”

“I hope so. I want to introduce you to my auntie and some of my cousins.” Sienna said.

“I want to introduce you to my family as well.”

Sophia returned with their chilled champagne and water. Erik ordered their entrees. He poured them glasses and they sipped and talked about anything to pass the time. Being with Sienna felt so relaxing. 

“…I’ve been meaning to ask you. I have sort of a work trip soon in Hawaii. There’s this event for prestigious doctors that I have to attend, mingle, and play nice with people I don’t like. Leo is going to be there and he’s bringing Treasure. I was wondering if you wanted to go? I can understand if you’re busy—”

“I’d love to go, Erik. It sounds like it’s going to be a good time. I’m down.” 

Erik laughs, “Aight, I have a vacation home there so we’ll stay at my place.” 

“Oooooo, you just never seize to amaze me, Dr. Stevens,” Sienna said with a playful wink of her eye.

“Being with me, I’ll take you wherever you want to go, baby.”

Sienna blushes. Erik made it his mission to see that look on her face always. 

They’re food arrived and they both started eating, sampling food from each other’s plates. A woman with a slicked back ponytail, and a curvy frame dressed in a red dress and black stilettos cautiously walked over towards them. Sienna was the first to notice. She eyed the woman with a furrow in her brow. Erik followed Sienna’s gaze and when his eyes fell on the woman, he sat up straighter, placed his napkin on the table and turned slightly in his seat.

“Carrie, hello,” Erik stood up and hugged the woman.

“How are you, Erik! It’s so good to see you, it’s been a while. Who’s this?”

Erik cleared his throat, “Carrie, this is Sienna. Sienna, this is Carrie. She’s a friend of Faith’s.” 

It took Sienna a few seconds to remember who Faith was, “Oh! Hi!” She shook Carrie’s hand, “Nice to meet you.” 

“You as well,” Carrie let go of Sienna’s hand and focused her eyes on Erik, “I figured I’d come over and say hello. I’m here with Kevin. You look great, how’s work?”

“Uh, good. Everything’s good. Everything good with you?” 

“You know the life of an attorney never settles. But otherwise, things are great. Kevin is great, he’s just as busy as I am. He was just in New York to finalize this architectural contract.” Carrie said. 

“Tell Kevin I said hello. I’m happy both of y’all are great.” Erik replied. 

“I will. Hey, you think you would come to our yearly ski trip this year? I know with everything—would you still go? You’re the life of the party!”

Erik laughs, “I don’t know, Carrie. Why don’t I get back to you.”

“Don’t leave us hanging, Stevens,” she looked at Sienna briefly with curiosity, “I’ll let you enjoy your dinner. Good to see you, Erik. Sienna.”

“You too, Carrie.”

With a final wave, Carrie walked away and Erik exhaled. Sienna noticed that he visibly relaxed. 

“Sorry about that. I wasn’t expecting to run into Carrie,” Erik chuckles.

“It’s okay. Ski trip?” 

“Yeah. That was like…our thing every fall. We’d all go to Aspen for a week.”

“Sounds fun,” Sienna looked down at her food.

“It is if you like the cold,” Erik jokes.

They finished their food and Sienna excused herself to the restroom. On her way, she ran into Carrie leaving the restroom. Carrie almost collided with her because she was too busy staring at her phone. They both looked up at the same time

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Carrie stepped to her right.

“No problem,” Sienna pushed open the bathroom door.

“Are you Erik’s girlfriend?”

Sienna paused. 

“I am actually.” Sienna replied.

“Oh,” Carrie looked her up and down, “Run for the hills, sweetie. You look like you’re young. You seem like you have a lot going for yourself. Erik is not someone to get tangled with. Believe me.” 

Carrie gave Sienna one final look over before placing a firm grip on her black Birkin and walking away with a purposeful strut. Sienna was baffled. She didn’t know what Carrie had meant by that, but now she wanted to know. If she had to venture a guess, it had something to do with Faith. 

___

Erik placed a hand on the small of her back and they slowly danced to Usher ft. Beyoncé-Love In This Club Remix. 

Now, baby girl, there ain't nothing more that I can say

You know by now, I want it more than anything

If I walk away and just let you leave

You'll be stuck in my head like a melody…

They did a slow two-step and Sienna’s hand in Erik’s grasp felt warm and welcoming. He pressed his nose into her hair and closed his eyes. 

But you decided to be here with me

No coincidence, it was meant to be

Don't be shy, come let your boy get in

So you can tell all of your friends

You was on the remix, like…

Erik twirled Sienna around so that her back was flesh against his front. With one hand resting against her stomach and the other on her hip, they swayed back and forth with a sensual dance. The strobe lights above them painted their skin various shades of purple, green, and red. No one else mattered. Time stood still. The smell of Erik’s Jean Paul Gaultier cologne filled her nose. His face with his groomed facial hair tickled her neck. It felt like they were in a 90s romance. 

Baby, you know I'd be down

But we can't have all these people staring standing around

This right here is only for your eyes to see

But you getting carried away

Saying we can (do it where ever)

The way you touching me

Like no other (I'ma make you feel insane)

You trying your hardest to make me give in

But I'ma be down to give you what you wanting if you keep it up

“I want you so bad right now,” Erik spoke in her ear as if passing on a secret message like they do in those 007 movies. 

“I think you can wait until we get back to your place.” Sienna replied with a low, wanton voice. 

“You make me lose all self control.” 

“Lose it inside of me…”

Doja Cat-Streets started playing and this was Sienna’s song. Erik turned Sienna around to face him again and he dipped her like they were replaying a scene from Dirty Dancing. His hand smoothed up her stomach, between her breasts, over the side of her neck, and then to the back of her head. He lifted her and she dropped her arms over his shoulders. Erik couldn’t keep his hands off of her ass. With the type of pants he wore, Sienna could feel his stiffness against her thigh. 

His lips kiss along her neck. Sienna gasped. She was so wet. She couldn’t wait to feel him inside of her. Kiss all over his tattoos. Sit on his face. This was beginning to be too much for her. He was going to lose his self control? No, Sienna was going to lose her sanity. She leaned back to stare into his eyes and he looked at her with unbridled desire. The palpable lust in his eyes made her stomach do somersaults. 

“Can we go?” Sienna begged with a breathy sigh.

“Alright, princess.” 

Erik clasped her hand and they exited the dance floor. They’d slipped past Carrie and Kevin, a burly man with a shiny bald head. Erik dabbed him up and Sienna greeted him with a shy wave. Kevin’s eyes lingered on Sienna longer than they should have. They managed to slip away and Erik motioned for the waiter to come over so he could pay the tab. He tipped the waiter generously, grabbed Sienna’s hand, and they left STK Steakhouse in a frenzy. 

___

Commotion. 

They staggered inside of Erik’s beautiful condo. He brought the champagne bottle to his thick lips and took a long swig. Sienna snatched the bottle from him and did the same. They stumbled over to one of Erik’s expensive sectionals. Sienna carefully placed the champagne bottle on the table so she wouldn’t spill it all over his good furniture. Erik got down on his knees and squinted his eyes to unclamp her stilettos. She sat back against the couch and watched him with a tipsy smirk. 

“There,” Erik picked himself up, “I have a special surprise for you.”

He held out his hand and Sienna took it. They walked towards the stairs and Sienna noticed red rose petals. Her mouth dropped open and one of her hands came up to cover it. Erik smiled handsomely at her and guided her up the steps. His bedroom doors are cracked. He slipped behind Sienna and covered her eyes with his hands. She pushed the doors open and was hit in the face with a wonderful smell. She could smell so many different notes—Sandalwood, Tonka Bean, Amber, Vanilla Jasmine, Rose—Erik removed his hands and Sienna’s eyelids slowly opened. 

The room was filled with a romantic ambiance from candlelight and the ceiling to floor windows revealed a beautiful view of the city. The floor was covered in rose petals that led to the bed. The words, ‘Will You Be My Girlfriend’ created a banner on the wall above Erik’s California King. More Champagne sat on ice and Sienna noticed black fur cuffs. Erik circled his arms around her hourglass waist and Sienna instantly felt her eyes well up. 

“I wanted to make the moment more special for us this time. I meant what I said, Sienna. I want you to be my woman…”

Erik walked away leaving Sienna standing there with tears streaming down her cheeks. He retrieved a black velvet box from an end table and made his way back over toward her. 

“Open this.”

Sienna accepted the box and slowly peeled back the top layer. Her mouth dropped open and she came face to face with a set of keys. She looked up at him and he looked at her.

“I know it’s asking a lot. But..I want you to have these. This place is your place and soon I’d love it if you moved in with me. I hope I’m not moving too fast—”

“Erik, this is a lot,” Sienna hiccups, “You have done so much for me.”

“I love you. I’m not afraid to say it,” Erik cupped her face, “I want to build this relationship with you. I want to meet your family. I want to be there for you always. I know it’s only been months but…this feels so right. I’ve never been so sure about love before. NEVER.”

His eyes brimmed with tears and Sienna was overwhelmed with the intensity in his eyes. This man said he’d never been so sure. His past two marriages were a waste of his time. He finally found his one and he wanted to grow with her and he didn’t give a fuck about anyone’s opinion. Sienna fucking loved that. 

“I’m not letting you go, Sienna.” 

“I want you too. I want this. Erik…I love you too. This means so much to me,” Sienna shut her eyes to fight more tears, “You’re my soulmate. I don’t want to lose you.”

Their lips crashed into each other’s. Sienna had a firm grip on the box in her hand. Erik smoothed his hands down her body until they were on the back of her thighs and he hoisted her up so she could straddle him. On their way to the bed, Sienna dropped the box down on the table next to the champagne. Erik fell against the bed with Sienna and rolled over so she was on her back. 

They kissed. And kissed. And kissed. Red lips staining his. Breathy moans. Hands desperately caressing. Hearts racing. After five minutes of tongue kissing, Erik broke the kiss and pushed off of the bed. Rose petals clung to his shirt as he unbuttoned it with his eyes glued to Sienna unblinking. Shirtless, Sienna sat up to rub all over his sculpted frame and she painted his chest and abs with her red lips. The tribal tattoo on his arm was littered with soft kisses. 

She reluctantly removed her pretty lips from his frame and allowed Erik to undress her. She had on a sexy black lace push up bra and a matching thong. Erik let her take off his slacks and he reached around to unclasp her bra. Her breasts bounced free and her chocolate-chip nipples were pointed out and waiting to be sucked. Erik got down on his knees and Sienna widened her legs. Erik had his hands on her waist delicately while he sucked and flicked her nipples with his tongue. 

Sienna’s braids had fallen out of her bun. Rose petals cling to her soft skin covered in body glitter oil. She looked ethereal. Sienna moaned like an Angel and kept her eyes on Erik. Those siren eyes. Her pussy was leaking into the lace crotch. Erik caught a whiff of that beautiful musk and with one large hand he slipped her panties to the side with a nipple between his lips. He looked down and spread Sienna’s sticky, outer lips. Her inner lips and that clit was covered in viscous, slippery arousal. Erik’s middle finger and ring finger slithered between her folds.

He moved from one breast to the other, sucking to his heart's desire. His tongue dripping spit, Sienna could feel it run down her stomach. She placed one hand on the back of his head and squealed when Erik slipped two fingers inside of her. He curled those thick fingers and finger-fucked that pussy at a moderate pace. Her pussy made a creamy noise similar to stirring mac and cheese. Erik’s fingers were glossy with her juices. 

“Daddy…yes, daddy…mmm,” Sienna murmured with a whimper in her voice. 

He popped his lips off her stiff nipples back and forth and Sienna felt her stomach flutter. It felt so good. Like a tickle she couldn’t escape. He finally brought his lips down to her pussy but first, he stuck his messy fingers in her mouth. Sienna sucked them clean and then he pushed her down onto the bed. Erik ripped her lace panties and went in to slurp her pussy. His fingers twirled her nipples at the same time. 

“Right there…Unh…Erik…”

He gave her slow head. He would alternate between kissing her clit, sucking softly on her clit and flicking his tongue over that clit. His thick tongue would tickle her hole and then he slowly and torturously dragged the flatness of his tongue between her labia and over her clit in a continuous motion. Wet smacking noises came from between her legs. He encased her clit again and slowly sucked. Sienna was seeing stars. Her legs shook. That creamy wetness leaked down the side of his chin.

Sienna climaxed. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even mutter a sound. Erik took it up a notch and flicked that tongue on her clit and then he looked her in the eyes while doing it. Sienna fed her pussy in his mouth. She pushed his head away and turned around so that he could eat it from the back. Erik didn’t say a word he got down on his knees behind that wet pussy and ate it from a different angle. He showed her again what that mouth do. He was feasting on that pussy. Erik loved an aggressive little bitch. She shoved that pussy in his face.

“Eat that pussy…eat that pussy…don’t talk just eat that pussy…slurp this young pussy up like that, daddy…yeah…”

Her sweet voice mixed with her aggressive words made Erik’s dick bounce. He allowed her to have her fun.

“Am I your baby? Am I your baby, daddy? Can baby girl cum in daddy’s mouth?”

Sienna convulsed and Erik stayed on that clit. He finally stood up and when he did that dick was so stiff he couldn’t put it down if he tried. Sienna turned and noticed. 

“Eating that pussy did this to me.” Erik said.

Sienna stared at that big, juicy dick with hunger.

“Get down here and handle it.” Erik commanded.

She was on her knees and with one hand she gripped him at the base and slapped the weight of him in her hand. This was all hers. She couldn’t believe it. Big balls and all.

“This my big dick?” Sienna stared Erik in the eyes while her tongue painted a wet trail along the vein on the underside of his shaft. 

“Mhm. All for you to play wit’.”

“I like big dicks to play with…”

She dropped both hands and sat that dick between her jaws. Sienna rolled her neck and sucked Erik up. She made sure to keep it sloppy. Her red lips stained the wide tip of his stick. She tugged gently on his sack and then she put him in the back of her throat and made gagging noises while sucking. Her body would jerk from the feeling and she would pull back with a sharp intake of her breath and a trail of spit. Her hands glided over his girth and she painted his prominent veins with spit. She did a two-handed job and sucked the tip.

“Sienna…gahdamn, little mama,” Erik frowned his face and bites down on his lip hard, “You tryna make daddy cum quick?”

“I want that nut,” Sienna sucked him down and all the way to the tip, “please?”

Erik’s hands went into fists.

“Here,” Erik had a handful of braids, and he fucked her mouth, “Fuuuuuck.”

Her makeup was ruined. Her red lipstick was smeared. She didn’t care. 

“You are so beautiful…you’re so beautiful…keep sucking that dick…”

The moan he released made Sienna swallow him whole. Erik hunched over her and rewarded her with a big nut that splashed all over her tongue. He grabbed his dick and slapped it against her tongue. She sucked on that tip tight and then her lips popped off. She was rewarded with more cum.

“Lick it up…you know what it is…this dick is straight up…I ain’t finished with you.” 

“How do you want me daddy? I think you should fuck it like this…”

Sienna turned onto her hands and knees and arched her back DEEP. That back looked steeper than Bradford Street. Her cheeks spread and both of her holes greeted his eyes, welcoming him. Her pink glistened and her hole winked at him. That tight asshole was stained with her cum. Sienna made her cheeks bounce for him. Left cheek, right cheek, that ass danced like it had a mind of its own. 

“Can you do that on this dick, girl?”

Erik was behind her quickly. The candle lights created sensual patterns along the walls. Erik lined his dick up with her creamy hole and then he pushed in with a wet plop. His hands remained at his sides and he used the strength of his hips to deliver backshots. 

“Oh!” Sienna stretched her arms out above her head and grabbed a first full of the sheets.

Her ass clapped and jiggled with each connection of their hips. It was a beautiful sight. 

“Don’t run.” Erik commanded.

“You’re on my spot!” Sienna cried out.

Erik popped Sienna on the ass, “Open that ass…mhm…hold it like that…”

Sienna held her cheeks open and Erik watched his big, thick dick go in and out. Her creamy goodness was frothy and it gave him more lubricant. 

“Daddy…stooooppppppp.”

“Keep that arch, Sienna. I thought you were my big girl?”

Sienna bites the sheets and tears streamed from her eyes. Erik had to fix her arch after his dick hit the bottom of her pussy at a different angle like that dick had a hook in it. 

“It ain’t over, girl. Daddy got more dick for you…”

Erik stood up on the bed and got into a frog stance. He sank his dick back in that pussy and strong-armed her hips while pounding her shit in from behind. 

“Move again, Sienna,” Erik spoke harshly.

“You’re gonna make me cum…”

She did. Erik had that pussy leaking. He pulled out and got down from the bed to kiss and suck on her pussy from behind. He loved the smell and taste of her tender pussy after a fresh fuck. Sienna was too weak to move. She collapsed onto her side and Erik went to lay on his back. 

“Up on this dick, little mama.” He spoke with urgency.

Erik had his dick in his fist and he pumped it. The sound was similar to the sound of Sienna’s pussy getting fucked. She carefully swung a leg over him and Erik helped her get into position. Sienna reached behind him to grab his dick to put in but Erik slapped her hand away and instructed her to lean forwards and plant her hands onto the bed. The red balloon banner with those words was the only thing Sienna could see straight ahead. Erik found her entrance and thrust up to the hilt. 

“Fuck me back,” Erik said with an abrasive tone while thrusting up, “I want that big ass on my nuts…”

She threw it down on him and Erik met her halfway. She looked back at it and all she could see was her ass bouncing out of control. She couldn’t form words. That mouth dropped open and Erik smoothed her braids from her face before his fingers closed around the back of her neck. He forced her to look down at him.

“Uhuh, that’s it, good girl, your pussy feels so good, baby, you make me want to fuck you all night, I love you—”

Sienna beat a fist down into the mattress and squeezed her eyes shut. Erik gripped her waist to still her movements and he continued fucking her from underneath. Sienna’s head slowly went back and her eyelids fluttered. She was in another dimension. A ‘I Can’t Believe I’m Getting Fucked Like This’ dimension. 

“Daddy’s gonna cum in that pretty pussy!!”

Erik pinned her above him with his dick deep inside of her, and his lips on her nipples. He held that dick in her pussy and Sienna could feel him pulsating with his release inside of her. He cream pied her and made sure that dick didn’t leave.

“Don’t you move until I say so,” Erik commanded.

“Y–yes, Daddy,” Sienna stuttered.

“Who’s pussy is this?” 

“Yours Daddy…”

Erik sat up with Sienna in his lap. They were still connected and Erik kissed her face, lips, shoulders, neck, and breasts. He remained inside of her until his dick went flaccid. Erik absentmindedly peeled rose petals from Sienna’s sweaty skin. Sienna combed her fingers through his locs. Erik shut his eyes and rested his face against her. Sienna continued to massage his scalp and her eyes stared out towards Golden Gate Bridge.

[hermittea]

introducing Etho's tea! Art by: @fence-time (Check out their Com sheet on their page!) New Year, New Tea! Etho's tea is full of bright and interesting flavors if the color doesn't say so already! Smooth comforting flavor with a sweet tang at the end. Enjoyable with either your breakfast or a nice molasses cookie. Highly recommend drinking with sugar and a little bit of maple syrup as both sweetener and to add to the flavor. Yes I am serious! Accented with Hibiscus flower, this is a Moderate caffeine Tea! If you wish to give him a try, or read more about the teas included in his blend: https://www.adagio.com/signature_blend/blend.html?blend=225347 The inspo for Etho is i hope quite obvious- He is our Maple Prince! So When I saw "Maple Cream Oolong" for the first time I just had to snatch that up for our Canadian friend! After that it was just a process of finding teas that tasted good with that as well as fit him. The peach might seem like an odd choice but black tea is pretty strong and in the low dosage it has both flavors help to balance out the rest of the tea. Hibiscus was added specifically to make it have that red hue, based on Etho's eye. Also when I said before to add (a bit) of maple syrup in this tea, I do mean it! It really helps bring out the flavors more. ---- Join our discord? https://discord.gg/yAWj39b5Xq And if YOU (or your friends) want to be a volunteer artist- go on and fill out this form! https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSdFAS-pJHat-GcNfGUuvumLCpPatkj91vT6Kbn8M4g7hDljkw/viewform?usp=sf_link We are doing some places so if you aren't that confidence with Character art, feel free to submit background art! We have Scarland, Decked out and Joel's S10 base that could get some delicious tea one day! And as always, make suggestions if you want to see anything else. Thank you all!

[slowd1ving]

Hi! If you're not taking reqs then feel free to ignore this but could you write Kim dokja angst? Maybe we're switching the roles and the reader is dying instead of dokja for once lmao

HOUSE OF CARDS ゜・KIM DOKJA

"A house made of cards, like the fools we are." In which a gambler finally pays the price for his bet. never actually written angst so I hope this is good enough anon art creds to kim28_dokja on twt! pairings: kim dokja + gn reader warnings: blood, injury, death, references to child abuse/dokja's past wc: 2.4k

ORV MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

Dokja is shit at games. 

It’s clear to the dealer. Even on the best day, those omnipotent palms that allocate fate will grow clammy (which they never do) and that ever-present smile slowly turns into a profound grimace. They know. They feel it instinctually, on a cellular level: that hand was terrible. 

It’s clear to the people around him. The salaryman stumbles into the building as though he’s just learned to walk: in never-polished shoes, slacks that perpetually crease further with each nervous wipe of his hands, and the clinging scent of smoke that preludes his entrance. He’s not got his life together, they observe, behind stony poker faces he can never quite master. That’s why he’s here.

Most of all, it’s clear to Kim Dokja himself. Every irregular heartbeat pulses in his throat as he gazes at his cards—two seven offsuit. In his sweat-streaked fingers is the short straw urging him to enlist. On the table before him are all his chess pieces, lined up neatly: spectators to the constant check, his inevitable downfall. 

Despite his atrocious luck, the thin red string binding him to this world never quite severs. A fire befalls the casino. A bullet embeds itself in the shell of his helmet and not a hair further. The chess game is postponed by a phone call and the poignant sound of shattering glass—and Dokja is left to shoulder the limbo of an unfinished game.

He’s shit at games, but never truly loses. 

Is it simply up to chance? A coin is tossed into the air: another foolish plan devised, another chip placed that equates to one of his lives. Crisis after crisis—Dokja, that harbinger of misfortune—yet each time, he resurrects. He bets on it, in fact: quite literally gambling away everything. 

It is just how things are. He cuts corners. He smooth-talks the fates into letting his transgressions slide just a little longer. For once, he’s winning, and the grand prize is something beyond his wildest dreams—an ending, to mark the indefinite uncertainty of chapters that seem to grow like nebulae. 

“Dokja.” It’s a sigh each time when he defies the end. Anyone else would interpret it as exasperation, but he likes to think he knows you better than that; it’s relief you greet him with, no matter how many times he sacrifices himself. “You idiot.”

It’s nice to know his long-time friend cares about him. 

No matter how many times he places his bets, the value of his life never seems to deprecate for you. Sacrifice is something you’d rather avoid (so does he, but it cannot always be helped, right?). If Dokja’s life can be used to save more of the people he cares about, all the better. 

In fact, he’d rather keep you away from any front line. 

There’s a story of its own between the two of you: years of scraped knees and violence, of gazing up at your shoulders while you bruise your knuckles with whoever bruised his eye, of friendship pacts forged with spat-on palms and corded bracelets. 

Your very soul is entwined with his scrawny one from years past, and it’s always been the case that yours has fought the battles in his stead. ‘Why?’ he’d once asked, and he still vividly remembers the cool response you attempted to give, only to end up fumbling the words. 

Because I can. Because I want to. Because you deserve it. 

It’s his turn to repay his debts. These fights are no longer about a bloodied mouth and spitting red onto the asphalt. They don’t end with bruised ribs and broken noses. 

You sit out. This one, he thinks grimly, is his fight—one that will guarantee both you and him turning the page on ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼◼. Every factor has been considered. Each risk is carefully mitigated at the expense of himself. None of the contingencies fail to prioritise his oldest friend. 

These are chips he cannot afford to bet on. 

Naturally, he keeps them close to his chest. 

゜゜・

Dokja is shit at games. 

His friends know it all too well. Those disbelieving laughs they let out, their fists clenching and unclenching as they debate whether to hit him across the head—Dokja, the herald of despair, he is—and finally the rush of words leaving their mouths like air deflating from a balloon: “Never do that again.”

All in, his chips go—each and every time. There is no other way about it: not unless you shackled Dokja to you in vain to make him listen—to stop the endless deaths he goes through. Over and over, until you feel his mind wear into recklessness, until you see the emptiness that taints his eyes as he slips into quiet contemplation.

How will Dokja die this time?

You’d rather erode into nothingness than clip his wings, though. That book he gushed about to you (syllables rushing over themselves in his excitement each update) gave him back his life—if you ruin his painstaking ◼◼◼◼◼◼◼, you don’t think you could forgive yourself.

Even if he’s ratcheting to Icarian heights. Those feathers of his are beginning to streak wax-hot down man-made frames, made of pages upon pages of a book obsolete to all but one dedicated reader. 

You think he can see the pain in your eyes, before he turns away with lips pressed together tightly. You’ll be safe, he reassured you. You’ve got me. I’ll create an epilogue for you to witness. 

Dokja’s changed. 

Those scrawny shoulders have become something that the very sky settles on: ones that no longer shake behind your own arms. The world has bruised you, and Dokja shall bruise it back. Every favour, repaid tenfold. 

Dokja’s changed. 

He’s still got the same facade of the boy you’ve called your oldest friend. If it weren’t for that, you’d think the man who coldly settles his death were a stranger. Someone you never shook hands with, childishly grimacing at the remains of a spat-upon pact rubbing into small palms. 

Dokja’s changed. 

He thinks he no longer causes misfortune with each risk he takes—as if his life were a mere trifle, as if each shred of news about him doesn’t shatter your heart over and over. 

When will it end? 

You haven’t seen him for months. 

Is it finally time to grieve?

゜゜・

Dokja is shit at games. 

It seems you are too. He turns the page of his book, and beside him the house of cards is carefully stacked on the glass table. It’s a precarious matter: high stakes against yourself, an unsafe tightrope that threatens to give way any moment now. 

Your eyes meet his. 

Like magic, the house collapses. 

゜゜・

You are shit at games. 

You take a deep breath, and begin organising what could be the final legacy of Dokja. It’s something he treasured even over his life, evidently: the ending, which you allow into your soul in the Kim Dokja-shaped hole left behind. 

It’s the first time you take a gamble: carefully picking up the shards of his ideas while rivulets of blood run down your fingers. It’s your turn. 

The battlefield in the scenarios is a sanctuary: white noise washing out Dokja’s ever-persistent voice in your head. There’s a perpetual, acrid smell of ash and smoke—a reek that is far better than the dust of buildings Dokja leaves you behind in. 

It’s hard. 

Gambling is not for you; in the sense that it sickens you, rather than just invoking disaster like it does for Dokja. The only good thing about it is that Dokja’s dream is finally being realised—a tribute to your oldest, dearest friend. Like funerary wine, metallic iron fills your mouth (a once-familiar taste) with each battle, every step closer to the story Dokja wove for you. A fabric so salient you couldn’t help but be entangled in it. 

I can do it. That is your gamble. 

You do it. 

You cut down monsters the size of buildings. You cling to life with bleeding fingernails, scraped raw with tenacity. Tentatively, you begin fleshing in the husk of yourself: talking with the friends you made in the apocalypse once more.

And like Dokja, you begin defying death. 

It starts off small—an arrow that you saw coming but didn’t feel like dodging. Jung Heewon almost blew a gasket when she took a glimpse, but then her eyes met yours—filled with the same distance that Dokja’s were, as though you too were peering through an impersonal screen—and she looked away for a brief moment. 

“Idiot,” she whispers. “Don’t treat yourself like Dokja.”

Your chips pile up. 

Except, you don’t quite have the same privilege that your dearest friend has. 

You will incur the cost, rather than somebody else. There is a reason Dokja is called a harbinger of ill fortune to others, and you are not. In the end, your downfall will be at your own hand. 

“Fool,” Yoo Joonghyuk grimaces as he cuts down a wolf you let claw your arm. The coppery stench is thick in the air, but there seems to be a manic grin on your face as you slice and chop and stab: a madness that slowly spreads like illness through your body. “There is nothing more worthless than sacrifice without cause.”

The debt accrues. 

Kim Dokja dreams of your knuckles, bloodied once more as you stand to face the world. But, it’s just a dream. 

He bets on it. 

゜゜・

You are shit at games. 

Bitter, arterial blood congeals on your hands as you try in vain to staunch the flow. There is nothing quite as caustic as the realisation that you fucked up, because now all the signs of your hamartia are clear. 

The house has long collapsed—it’s that final card that still hasn’t hit that glass table yet. 

Is this what Dokja feels? The thought runs wonderingly through your sluggish mind. Is it what he felt, you mean to say, but your throat grows thick whenever you speak about him in the past tense. You can’t quite accept the reality that he’s gone. The shock anaesthetises your mind: cradling your neurons with such gentleness that it’s hard to conceptualise you’re about to follow him to wherever he’s gone. 

Will I see him again?

Everything reeks of iron: from the massive corpse on the ground, to the claw impaled through your abdomen. It was inevitable. You’ve grown tired of the endless fight, and it’s cost you dearly. 

Your chest heaves desperately. 

Dokja. 

“Dokja,” you croak, collapsing onto the rubble freshly decimated. Despite the rough surface, your blood-slicked hands scrabble for purchase on the concrete—something that doesn’t quite feel like you’re the one puppeteering your strings. 

Deliriously, you watch as the same hand urgently attempts to apply pressure to your wound; it goes against rationality, but then again you’re not really yourself anymore. 

“Dokja?” you try again. Perhaps if you speak loudly enough—syllables soaked with sanguine that dribbles from your lips—you’ll be able to reach your dead best friend. 

There is a pressure behind your eyes. 

It may be tears; it may be an unwelcome guest in your head. 

It’s too late, you think. He’s dead, and soon I will be too. 

“Dokja,” you whisper, and there is salt on your tongue as you feel your limbs grow colder. Everything hurts—your pounding head, the thrum of your pulse as you marr the asphalt with crimson, and finally that stupid bleeding heart of yours that swears you can hear the spirit of your oldest friend. 

You can’t die, you think he says—a quiet scream drowned out by the static of your mind. 

“I’ll see you soon, though,” you slur, and the weight in your mind lifts—blurring and coalescing into a mirage you could recognise blind. 

Frigid fingers pass through the hologram, and you smile, bittersweet. 

“Dokja,” you breathe. “It’s been almost a year since I last saw you.”

His hands grasp your shoulders desperately, though his frantic mouth goes unheard upon your ears. You… can’t… die, his lips read—but that’s silly, you think. Doesn’t he want you to meet him again?

Horns curve out of his head, while his wings fluff out—shoulders shaking, with an expression you’ve only seen once on his face before. Utmost grief, when he came soaked in congealed blood and a haunted look in his eyes: murmuring she killed him, over and over. 

He’s your best friend. He was your best friend. 

Kim Dokja has lost his final gamble, and the bullet in the chamber has finally been spun into place for you too. 

“I can see you soon, right?” you murmur—there are cold fingers brushing against your forehead, and you think death is unexpectedly gentle. 

His lips wobble. 

Incorporeal fingers trace the tear tracks on your face—ones that mirror the slow stream of salt from his own eyes. You didn’t even notice—too caught up in the gradual greyness that spreads through each vessel, weaving through sinew and bone and brain. 

“I did a good job, right?” Your sword rests across the ground, heavy after almost a year of fighting. “Maybe it’ll help with the ending that you wanted.”

Dokja’s face crumples, and you can feel your own throat growing thick. Dokja, I’m scared, you want to admit. For the first time in your life, there’s a choking fear that grips you as the red surrounding you blooms into a field. 

Your own wings are rapidly coming apart. 

“Dokja, I don’t want to die,” you mumble. Struggling, you curl and uncurl your hands into fists, but you can no longer feel them. 

“Dokja,” you try again. You can no longer see him, but whether it’s from the salt clouding your vision, or the haze of limbo, you cannot tell. 

There is a phantom pressure that lingers on your face. 

“Dokja,” you gurgle, mouth iron-hot with arterial blood. “Don’t leave me alone—please.”

No response is given, but that sepulchral presence seems to remain—this time, those hands brush and cradle your face. 

You cannot tell if it’s him or death itself, but you don’t think death would kiss you like that. 

As if he could possibly breathe life back into you, his ghostly lips move against yours. Desperately, so urgently you half-wonder at his panic. 

Dokja, you want to ask. You’re already dead, right?

Right? 

With the final scraps of your vision, you watch as he pulls back—his tears pattering across your face—watch as his mouth moves for a final time.

I can’t live without you.

But by then, it is too late.

The words go unheard, and Dokja is alone once again.