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rafesapologist · 2 months ago

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if you would've been the one ─ rafe cameron (part 2)

summary: rafe gets engaged and you find out

warnings: addiction, dr*g use, angst, mentions of drinking, sad rafe, infidelity (don't cheat guys), sensual moments

author's note: i wasn't sure if i was going to write a part two, but some of you requested one so here you go <3

It has been a month since that fateful encounter with you, since he last held you while you sobbed in the middle of town. The sight of you—broken down, vulnerable, crumbling in his arms—haunts Rafe like a tortured ghost, a specter that clings to him, refusing to be exorcised. It plays on a loop in his mind, a visceral memory he can’t escape no matter how hard he tries. He remembers the way your voice cracked, the way you trembled against him, and the sound of your broken cries feels like a knife twisting in his chest, again and again.

Sofia moved in with him just a few days after that night, boxes stacked in the living room, her laughter filling the house as she unpacked their future together. On the surface, everything looked perfect. Rafe played his part well—smiling, planning the wedding, talking about the life they were going to build. He made everyone believe that his life was finally on track, that he was happy and settled. But the truth was far from the polished facade he showed to the world.

In reality, his nights had become a battleground of regrets. He would lie awake long after Sofia had drifted off to sleep, staring up at the ceiling as the images of your tear-streaked face replayed behind his eyes. The memory of your sobs haunted him, an echo that reverberated in the dark corners of his mind, refusing to be silenced. The sound of your voice—broken, raw, filled with so much hurt—was something he couldn’t shut out, no matter how tightly he closed his eyes.

While Sofia lay beside him, dreaming about their wedding, their future, and all the things he had promised her, Rafe was stuck in a different kind of dream—a waking nightmare. He relived that night over and over, his subconscious torturing him with the choices he’d made, the words he couldn’t take back. He would wake up in a cold sweat, his chest tight, the ghost of your presence lingering in the room. He could almost feel your tears soaking through his shirt again, the phantom weight of your body pressed against his as you cried out every last bit of hurt he’d caused.

It was like being trapped in a loop he couldn’t escape from, a purgatory of his own making. Every smile he gave Sofia, every kiss, felt like a betrayal—to her, to you, and to himself. He was playing the role of a man who had everything figured out, but inside, he was unraveling, piece by piece. Because he knew the truth he couldn’t admit to anyone—not even to himself. He wasn’t haunted by the life he was building with Sofia. He was haunted by the life he’d lost with you. And it was a loss that was slowly eating him alive.

Rafe picked up his old habits like an old, familiar coat—one that he’d hoped to never wear again. In the days and weeks following that night, the weight of his regret and guilt became unbearable, pressing down on him until he could hardly breathe. He tried to push it all away, to bury himself in his plans with Sofia, to drown out the echo of your words in the monotony of his new life. But it didn’t work. He couldn’t escape the sound of your broken voice, the look in your eyes as you told him how much he had destroyed you.

That was the night his sobriety came to a screeching halt.

He remembered sitting on the edge of his bed, Sofia already asleep beside him, her breathing soft and steady. He stared down at his hands, the same hands that had held you, that had pushed you away, that had made all the wrong choices. It was like he could still feel the ghost of your touch, the imprint of your fingers as you shoved him in a fit of anger. His heart felt like it was being ripped apart, and he needed something—anything—to numb the pain.

Rafe knew where to go, who to call. It was frighteningly easy to slip back into old routines, to let the darkness swallow him whole. He took his first line of coke that night, the familiar burn hitting him hard, and for a brief, fleeting moment, he felt relief. The crushing weight of his emotions lifted, replaced by a rush of artificial euphoria. It felt like he had control again, like he could breathe. But it was a lie—a dangerous, seductive lie that he willingly bought into.

The weeks that followed were a blur of late nights and reckless choices. What had started as a desperate attempt to cope quickly spiraled into something darker. His addiction came back with a vengeance, tenfold worse than before. It became a weekly ritual, then every few days, until it was nearly a daily habit. Rafe would disappear for hours, locking himself in the bathroom or sneaking off to the garage, cutting lines on the cold surface of the counter, inhaling deeply as the familiar numbness washed over him.

Sofia was oblivious. She’d look at him with concern sometimes, noticing the dark circles under his eyes, the way his hands shook ever so slightly when he thought no one was watching. But Rafe was good at hiding it. He knew how to play the part, how to keep up the facade of the doting fiancé, the man who had everything under control. He’d smile, kiss her on the forehead, tell her everything was fine. And she believed him. Why wouldn’t she? To her, he was still the man who had turned his life around, who was ready to settle down and start fresh.

But in reality, Rafe was spiraling, falling deeper into a pit of his own making. The regret of losing you, the guilt of betraying what he once felt for you, was a constant gnawing at his soul. He’d lie awake at night, staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing with all the what ifs that he couldn’t shut off. What if he had fought for you? What if he had chosen you instead? What if he had never let things fall apart?

The only thing he felt like he had control over was the drugs he was putting into his body. It was the one thing that numbed the pain, that quieted the screaming in his head, even if just for a little while. It was the only way he knew how to cope with the reality he had created, a reality where he was haunted by the ghost of you, the woman he still loved, but had pushed away.

And with every line he snorted, he knew he was digging himself deeper into a hole he might never climb out of. But the truth was, he didn’t care. Not anymore. Because in his mind, this was his punishment—his self-inflicted penance for the life he had ruined, not just yours, but his own as well.

The weekend finally arrived, and Topper’s invitation to the Pelican Yacht Club felt like an aid thrown into the raging sea Rafe had been drowning in. Topper had insisted he come out, promising a carefree day of drinks and laughter with old friends—a chance to forget about the chaos that had become his life. Rafe had been hesitant, rightfully so. The yacht club wasn’t just a place anymore; it was a scene of memories, and there was a good chance you’d be there. It was your workplace, after all, and Rafe knew that running into you could rip open wounds that were still fresh and bleeding.

But as he stood there in the mirror, staring at his own reflection, he realized he had nothing left to lose. His spiraling had already reached its peak. He was a man standing at the edge, and avoiding you now felt pointless. The drugs had dulled the pain, numbed him enough to survive each day, but they hadn’t erased the hollow ache in his chest. In his mind, he reasoned that maybe seeing you would bring him the closure he never got—an end to the nightmare he’d been living since that night he held you while you cried.

He agreed to go. He left the house with Sofia behind, her cheerful wave and bright smile not reaching him the way it once might have. She asked him if he’d be home for dinner, her voice laced with hope, as if she sensed the growing distance between them but couldn’t quite put her finger on why. He told her he’d try, planting a kiss on her forehead out of habit more than affection, and walked out the door without looking back.

The drive to the yacht club felt like an eternity. His fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel, the weight of anticipation gnawing at him. He couldn’t tell if he was hoping to see you or praying that you wouldn’t be there. When he arrived, he took a moment to steady himself, taking a deep breath as he stepped out of the car and into the blazing afternoon sun. The humid air clung to his skin, reminding him of countless summer days spent here with his friends, with you. It felt like a different lifetime.

He spotted Topper almost immediately, surrounded by a familiar group of friends, their laughter echoing across the dock. The sight was almost comforting, a sliver of normalcy in the midst of the chaos his life had become. Rafe plastered on a smile and made his way over, clapping Topper on the back as he was handed a drink. He took a long sip, feeling the burn of the alcohol slide down his throat, and for a moment, he felt like he could pretend that everything was okay.

But it was fleeting. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for you almost unconsciously. He told himself he wasn’t looking for you, but his heart knew better. He could feel it racing in his chest, an unsteady rhythm that only worsened when he finally caught sight of you. There you were, behind the bar, moving with a practiced grace, serving drinks and laughing at something a customer said.

You looked good. Too good. It made his stomach twist with a mix of longing and regret. He wasn’t sure what he expected—that you’d be as broken as he was, perhaps. But you looked like you were surviving, like you had picked up the pieces of your shattered heart and put them back together, even if the cracks were still visible beneath the surface.

Rafe felt a lump form in his throat as he watched you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, despite the sinking feeling in his gut. This was it, the moment he had been dreading and anticipating all at once. He had braced himself for what might happen, but seeing you again, looking so effortlessly beautiful and so painfully out of reach, knocked the air right out of his lungs.

He turned back to his friends, forcing himself to join in their conversation, to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. He could feel the weight of your presence across the bar like a magnetic pull he couldn’t resist. He took another long swig of his drink, hoping the alcohol would calm his nerves, but it only made him feel more on edge.

Rafe knew he had to make a choice—approach you and risk tearing open old wounds, or avoid you and leave things unresolved, the way they’d been left that night in town. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, his hands trembling slightly as he set down his empty glass. He glanced back over at you, his front faltering as he watched you laugh with a customer, the sound of your laughter piercing through the haze of noise around him.

Suddenly, the conversations around Rafe begin to fade, the laughter and chatter of his friends muffled like he’s underwater. He forces a smile, offering a half-hearted chuckle here and there, but his mind is miles away. He keeps sneaking quick glances over his shoulder, looking for you across the bar, though every look is so brief you never notice. It almost pains him, the way you seem oblivious to his presence. But he tells himself it’s busy; you’re too focused on the flow of customers to scan the room. Still, he can’t shake the sting, a dull ache in his chest that grows stronger every time he catches sight of you, the girl he let slip away.

You hadn’t noticed him yet. The thought stings more than he expected it to. How could you be so unaware of the agony ripping him apart from across the room? But he knows it isn't fair to think that. The bar is packed, filled with the usual weekend crowd; your focus is split between orders, conversations, and the rhythm of your job. It's easier this way, he tells himself. If you noticed him, it would complicate things, make the air heavy with unsaid words and unresolved feelings. Yet part of him—a selfish, desperate part—aches for you to look up, to lock eyes with him, even if only for a second. Just to see if he could read something, anything, in your gaze.

Rafe is at war with himself, stuck between the urge to keep his distance and the desperate need to get closer, to say something—anything. His fingers tap nervously against his glass, the buzz of alcohol not strong enough to drown out the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind.

Then one of his friends speaks up, snapping him back to the present. “We’re running low on beer, man. Someone should get another round.”

Without thinking, Rafe jumps in, his voice a little too quick, a little too eager. “I got it,” he blurts out, pushing himself up from his seat. His friends barely notice his sudden enthusiasm, already lost in their own drunken conversations. For them, it’s just Rafe doing a favor. But for him, it’s an excuse, a chance to approach the bar and maybe, just maybe, get a moment alone with you.

He moves through the crowd, weaving between bodies as he makes his way toward the bar. His heart is pounding, adrenaline coursing through his veins as if he’s about to do something reckless. In a way, he is. He hasn’t seen you up close since that night a month ago when he held you in his arms while you broke down in tears, and the memory of it still haunts him. He doesn’t know what he plans to say, or if he’ll even say anything at all. But he has to see you, has to face whatever feelings linger between you.

As he reaches the bar, he spots you right away. You’re busy, turning to grab a bottle from the shelf, your hair falling in loose waves over your shoulder. The sight of you hits him hard, a wave of emotion crashing over him so violently it nearly knocks the breath out of him. It’s like seeing you for the first time all over again, except now there’s an insurmountable distance between you that wasn’t there before.

He wipes his sweaty palms on his khaki shorts, trying to calm himself, his fingers gripping the edge of the counter like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. When you turn around, you don’t notice him at first, focused on passing a drink to a customer. He takes a deep breath, his voice caught in his throat, but he forces the words out anyway.

“Hey, can I get a round of beers?” he asks, his voice barely louder than a whisper, but enough for you to hear.

The moment you look up to meet his gaze, it's as if time itself halts. The crowded, bustling room fades into the background, and for a fleeting heartbeat, it’s just you and him. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, a flicker of recognition passing across your face before you can mask it. It’s a split-second crack in your facade, but you quickly snap yourself back into place. The shock, the pain—it all gets shoved down as you force yourself into a state of icy calm.

You give a curt nod, your expression stone-cold, devoid of any trace of the emotions boiling beneath the surface. You glance away, reaching for a stack of glasses without missing a beat. To anyone else, it would look like he’s just another customer, another face in the sea of people.

“Gotcha,” you reply flatly, your voice monotone and unreadable, like a wall going up between you. You don’t give him the satisfaction of anything more, no warmth, no bitterness—just cold indifference. You’re determined not to let him see how much his presence unsettles you, how the mere sight of him brings back every hurtful word, every sleepless night spent crying over the pieces he left behind.

You focus on the task at hand, pulling a few cold beers from the cooler and lining them up on the counter. The silence that stretches between you is suffocating, thick with all the unspoken words that hang in the air like ghosts. You can feel his eyes on you, searching for something in your expression, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of looking back.

Rafe swallows hard, the tension settling heavy in his chest. He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die on his tongue. He watches your every move, hoping for a sign—anything—that might tell him you still care, even if it’s just a spark of anger or pain. But you give him nothing.

You slide the beers across the counter toward him, your movements quick and efficient. “Anything else?” you ask, your tone clipped and business-like, as if this moment isn’t ripping you apart from the inside.

Rafe stares at you, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, searching desperately for something—anything—that might hint at what you’re feeling. But you don’t let him see it. You hold his gaze with a cold, distant expression, one that feels foreign even to you. It’s a stark contrast to the way you looked at him the last time he saw you, broken down and vulnerable. The warmth that once lived in your eyes is gone, replaced by an icy shield you’ve built up to protect yourself.

His mouth opens for a second, and it almost looks like he’s going to say something—something important, something that might change the trajectory of this interaction. But he hesitates, words caught in his throat, and you see the flicker of conflict flash across his face. He bites his tongue, the sentence dying before it ever has a chance to leave his lips.

“Uh—no, that’s all. Thank you,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. It’s awkward, hollow, like he’s a shell of the man you once knew. He picks up the beers off the counter, his hand shaking slightly, and without another word, he turns away from you. He moves quickly, as if he’s trying to escape the weight of the moment, the unbearable silence hanging between you.

You watch him leave, his shoulders tense, his movements almost robotic as he disappears back into the crowd. A part of you wants to call him back, to demand answers, to tell him how much he’s hurt you. But you don’t. You stand there, rooted to the spot, swallowing down the lump in your throat as you remind yourself that he’s no longer your concern. He made his choice.

Rafe returns to his friends, dropping the beers onto the table with a thud that goes unnoticed by the group. They’re too caught up in their drunken laughter, their cheers filling the air as they reach for the drinks, oblivious to the turmoil brewing inside him. He forces a smile, pretending to be present, but his mind is miles away.

The brief encounter with you replays in his head on an endless loop, each second of it magnified, dissected, and analyzed like a broken record he can’t turn off. He can’t stop thinking about the look in your eyes—so cold and unfeeling, a far cry from the warmth and love they used to hold. It’s like staring into the face of a stranger, and it makes his chest ache with regret.

He takes a long swig of his beer, hoping the alcohol will numb the gnawing feeling in his gut, but it doesn’t. If anything, it makes the hollow sensation grow worse. He questions every part of that brief interaction: Should he have said something different? Should he have apologized again, right then and there? Should he have tried to explain himself, to make you see how much he’s been suffering too?

But it’s too late now. The moment has passed, and he knows he can’t change it. All he’s left with is the echo of your monotone “gotcha” and the way you looked right through him like he was nothing. He clenches his jaw, staring down at the condensation forming on his bottle, the laughter of his friends now just white noise in the background.

Rafe tries to shake it off, telling himself to get over it, to move on like everyone else seems to have. But he can’t. He’s stuck, trapped in his own head, replaying the scene over and over as he mentally beats himself up for everything he did wrong. It feels like a downward spiral he has no control over, a reminder that no matter how hard he tries to pretend everything is fine, the cracks are still there, ready to shatter him completely.

The night drags on, hours passing by in a haze for Rafe as he tries to drown his thoughts in drink after drink. The buzz of alcohol settles over him, a dull hum that makes him feel lighter, even if just for a moment. It’s a temporary escape, a slight escape from the relentless torment of his own mind. By the time his friends decide to call it a night, the Pelican Yacht Club has long since closed its doors.

The group gathers outside, their laughter a little louder, their goodbyes a little sloppier as they make plans to meet up again soon. Rafe stands at the edge of the group, his smile forced as he nods along, contributing half-heartedly to their final jokes. He feels distant, like he’s watching the scene play out from somewhere far away. One by one, his friends leave, until he’s the last one lingering in the parking lot, alone.

He sways slightly, fumbling in his pocket as he searches for his car keys. His coordination is off, the alcohol making his movements clumsy. He curses under his breath, frustration bubbling up as he struggles to pull the keys free from the tight fabric of his jeans. His head feels foggy, and the dull ache of regret pounds against his temples, as if the night is mocking him.

Just as he finally pulls the keys from his pocket, the sound of the front door creaking open behind him makes him freeze. The noise cuts through the silence, startling him. He turns around, his heart sinking when he sees you standing there.

You step out into the faint glow of the parking lot lights, your expression unreadable as you lock up for the night. The sight of you is enough to sober him up slightly, his buzz fading into a sharp pang of anxiety and longing. He hadn’t expected to see you again, not tonight, and certainly not like this. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, his mind racing with what he could possibly say after everything.

You don’t notice him at first, too focused on locking up, the familiar clicks of the door securing in place as you twist the key. It’s been a long night, and you’re eager to get home, to escape the remnants of the day’s chaos. But when you turn around, ready to leave, you see him standing there, swaying slightly under the lights of the parking lot. Rafe’s figure is slouched, his face half-shadowed, and even from a distance, you can tell he’s had too much to drink.

You sigh quietly to yourself, feeling a wave of irritation wash over you. You cross your arms defensively, a barrier between the two of you, as if it might protect you from the emotions he still stirs up inside you. “Rafe, what are you doing?” you ask, your tone edged with annoyance and judgment. It’s a reflex, your way of keeping him at arm’s length, of pretending that the sight of him doesn’t affect you as much as it does.

Rafe stares at you for a moment, looking caught off guard. He struggles to find his words, his brain muddled from the alcohol. “I was just—uh, leaving,” he mumbles, the words tumbling out clumsily. He mentally curses himself, hating how weak he sounds, how pathetic he must look to you right now. He’s Rafe Cameron—he’s supposed to have it all together, but here he is, fumbling in front of you like a lost kid.

You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Well, we’re closed, so...” you say, your voice trailing off in a dismissive tone. You don’t finish the sentence, but the implication is clear: there’s nothing left for him here. Not tonight, and maybe not ever.

Your expression remains stone-cold, void of any emotion, and it sends a sharp pang through Rafe’s chest. He’s used to seeing fire in your eyes, whether it was anger, passion, or even sadness. But this cold indifference—it’s like a knife twisting in his gut. It’s as if you’ve already made up your mind about him, as if he’s just another inconvenience at the end of your shift.

Rafe stands frozen for a moment, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, suffocating him with each passing second. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to undo the damage he’s done, but his mind races, desperate for something to break the silence. Your cold indifference cuts through him like a blade, and for a moment, he feels as if he’s drowning in his own regret.

You turn your heel to walk to your car, the sound of your footsteps sharp against the quiet night, but Rafe’s voice halts you abruptly. “Y/n, wait,” he calls out, his tone more urgent than he intended, the alcohol slurring his words slightly.

You pause, but don’t turn around immediately, your body stiff with tension. You can feel the heaviness of his gaze on you. You knew he was going to say something, but you didn’t know what. Did he even have the right to speak to you? After everything?

Rafe takes a tentative step forward, his voice quieter now, but no less filled with a kind of desperation. “Please,” he adds, almost pleading. "I... I just need to say something." His hand twitches at his side, as if he wants to reach out, but he doesn’t, knowing it’s the last thing you probably want from him.

You hesitate, your fingers brushing the handle of your car door, torn between the need to escape and the need to understand. Rafe’s presence pulls at something deep inside you, but it’s a complicated knot of emotions you can’t untangle in a moment. You glance between him and your car, the battle in your chest raging, before your shoulders slump in defeat. You can’t leave him like this—not without hearing him out.

With a sharp exhale, you turn, looking at him once more. He’s waiting, as if he didn’t quite believe you’d stay, his posture stiff with tension. His eyes meet yours, and for the first time in a long while, you allow him that moment to speak. You give him an inch, but that’s all you’re willing to give.

Rafe’s breath shakes as he lets out a small sigh of relief, as though your decision to stay has momentarily lifted a weight from his chest. He shifts his weight nervously, not sure if he’s even saying the right things, but it doesn’t matter now. The words come tumbling out, almost too quickly. “I can’t... leave things where they were when we last talked,” he admits, his voice wavering with something close to regret and need.

You stare at him, confused, eyebrows furrowing as you process what he’s saying. The statement doesn’t sit right with you. You’ve been through so much, and now, after everything, he’s just showing up like this? The anger and the hurt bubble back up, and you feel your guard rise even higher. "What’s that supposed to mean?" you ask, your voice laced with uncertainty and a hint of frustration. His words don’t add up. After everything he’s put you through, after how he left, now he’s trying to make things right? It doesn’t make sense.

Rafe’s gaze flits around the parking lot, his fingers tugging at his hair as if trying to find something solid to hold onto in this conversation. His thoughts are racing, but the words come out in fragments, stammering as though he doesn’t even believe what he’s trying to say. “I—I don’t think we should leave off this way, you know? Maybe we just need... some closure?” He glances at you briefly, but quickly looks away, the uncertainty in his voice giving the whole thing a shaky feel.

You stand there, arms still crossed tightly over your chest, your posture defensive as you process his words. You stare at him, a bitter chuckle escaping your lips, shaking your head in disbelief. “Closure?” you repeat, scoffing slightly, as if the very idea of it is laughable. Your voice hardens as the frustration and anger come rushing back, thickening your tone. “I don’t need any closure from you, Rafe. It’s pretty damn clear what your decision is here. You’re getting married. What else is there to say?”

Rafe’s face pales at your words, and for a moment, he looks almost defeated. The sting of your anger hits him harder than anything he could have prepared for. He expected you to be upset, angry—hell, maybe even hurt—but this... this is different. The bitterness in your voice, the coldness in your eyes, it cuts deeper than anything he’s felt before.

"I know, I know but—" he mutters, his frustration bleeding through as he paces, running a hand through his hair in a futile attempt to gather his thoughts. "I can’t stand the thought of you hating me for the rest of your life because of this." The words fall from his lips full of desperation, his voice strained as he looks back at you, trying to convey something—anything—that could undo the damage.

His gaze locks with yours, searching for any hint of vulnerability, any crack in the wall you’ve built between the two of you. And for a brief, fleeting moment, he swears he sees something in your eyes—hurt, maybe even a glimmer of sympathy—but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared. In its place, that same stone-cold, unreadable look that he’s grown all too familiar with tonight.

Your expression hardens again, and when you speak, your voice is quieter, but just as resolute. "Why are you doing this? I’m trying to move on, Rafe. I don’t have anything left to say to you anymore that’s gonna change what happens." You take a deep breath, your body tense as you prepare to put an end to this conversation. "So go back home to your fiancée and leave me alone."

His heart clenches painfully at the finality of your words. The way you speak—so detached, so sure of yourself—it makes everything feel so much worse. He thought there might be a chance, even the smallest one, for him to explain himself, to somehow make things right, but with each word you say, that possibility slips further and further away.

“Y/n,” he says softly, and it feels like a plea, like he’s begging for something you can’t give. His eyes meet yours, desperation and regret clouding his expression. “I made a mistake. You were right, I didn’t try hard enough. I was so used to everyone in my life leaving me that I pushed you away before I thought you could do it to me.” His voice cracks slightly on the last part, and he takes a step closer, but you don’t flinch. You stay still, frozen by his words. “I can’t change that, but I need you to know that this is ruining me. I spend every damn day and night replaying what you said to me in my head,” he continues, his fingers tapping frantically at his temple, as if the memory of your hurtful words is a physical wound he can’t escape. “I can’t let you go, y/n.”

The air between you thickens, the words hanging heavily in the silence that follows. Your heart wrenches at the rawness in his voice, but there’s still so much anger, so much betrayal coiled inside you that you refuse to let it go. You were right. You knew, deep down, that the Rafe you loved—who you thought was yours—was gone, replaced by someone who could never give you what you needed.

"Stop," you finally say, your voice low, trembling with everything you've been holding inside. "Stop pretending like this is about me. It’s about you, Rafe. Always has been. You don’t get to come here, to pull me back into your mess, just because you feel guilty. You don’t get to destroy me and expect me to just pick up the pieces and put you back together."

You take a step back, the space between you growing, but your chest tightens. His words echo in your mind, but you can't let them have the power they once did. Not anymore.

“Y/n, please, don’t do this,” he begs, his eyes filled with a mix of regret and pain as he gazes up at you. Then, before you can even process it, he falls to his knees in front of you. The motion is sudden, startling, and leaves you frozen, speechless. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close, as if he can somehow erase the past with his touch, his brokenness seeping into you like a virus you’ve already fought too long to get rid of.

“I need you,” he mumbles against your stomach, and you can hear the tears in his voice. The man who used to be your world is now kneeling before you, broken, crying, and pleading in a way you never thought you'd see. It's almost too much, the weight of it crushing your chest, but you fight it. You fight it hard, as though giving in would undo everything you’ve worked so hard to build.

You try to push him away, but your hands falter, shaking as they hover over him. You don’t want to give in. You don’t want to let him pull you back into his chaos. Not after everything.

“Rafe... please, just stop,” you say, but even to your own ears, your voice is weak, trembling with the same sorrow you’ve been trying so hard to bury. You don’t know whether you’re trying to convince him or yourself. Your chest tightens with every second he holds onto you, every second he doesn’t let go.

He doesn’t stop. His grip on you only tightens as he looks up at you, his face streaked with tears, eyes full of raw, untamed emotion.

“I’m sorry, y/n,” he chokes out. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve let you go. I never should’ve pushed you away. I—” His voice cracks, and he buries his face in your stomach, unable to finish the sentence. The sound of his sobs against your skin is almost too much to bear. It stirs something in you, something painful, something you thought you’d buried so deep that it couldn’t hurt anymore. But it does.

You shake your head, fighting against the part of you that still wants to be there for him, that still wants to believe in the words he’s saying.

“I can’t look at you the same, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the strain of holding back tears. You tense up, every muscle in your body recoiling from the touch that once brought you comfort but now only fills you with a deep, searing pain. Your face twists into an expression of disgust, your lip trembling as you continue. “I can’t look at you knowing you’ve proposed to somebody else. I don’t think I could ever forget that.”

Your words are laced with a solemn, heartbreaking truth that makes Rafe’s breath hitch. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but no words come out. He looks utterly broken, his eyes searching yours desperately for any sign that you don’t mean it. But he finds none.

“That’s not something somebody can just get over,” you add, your voice barely above a whisper, yet it echoes in his ears like a shout.

Rafe’s eyes well up with fresh tears. He drops his head, resting his forehead against your stomach as he chokes out a shaky breath. “I know,” he whispers, his voice filled with raw anguish. “I know I’ve ruined everything. But I still love you, y/n. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

You swallow hard, squeezing your eyes shut as if that could block out the pain of his words. “That doesn’t change anything,” you murmur, your hands still hovering over him, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. “You made your choice, Rafe. And it wasn’t me.”

He flinches as if you’ve slapped him, his arms falling limply to his sides. The realization that he can’t undo what he’s done, that he’s lost you for good, washes over him, leaving him hollow. He looks up at you one last time, his expression a mixture of desperation and helplessness.

Once Rafe stands up, there’s a brief silence as he stares into your teary eyes. He swallows the lump in his throat as he takes in your appearance — even after a busy day, you still look beautiful and flawless. It’s one of the things he always admired about you, how you could be under a whirlwind of stress and still somehow look perfect. But as he gazes at you now, his eyes fill with dread and desperation.

“Listen to me, y/n, please just listen to me,” he pleads, his voice breaking as he points to his chest. You stay silent but don’t move, your eyes peering up at him with a painfully broken look that he wishes he could erase. “I fucked up, okay? I fucked up. It shouldn’t have taken me so long to realize it, but I did, and I’m so, so sorry.” His lip trembles, his eyes filled with tears and sorrow.

You stand there, unmoving, as his words spill out with raw emotion, almost tripping over themselves in his haste to get them out. The sight of Rafe, usually so composed, now crumbling in front of you is enough to make your heart ache. You clench your jaw, trying to keep your composure, but you can feel your front wavering.

Rafe’s eyes are red and glossy, his lips trembling as he desperately tries to explain himself. He points to his chest, almost as if he’s trying to pull the words directly from his heart, like they’ve been buried deep inside him for too long.

“I still love you,” he whispers, the words trembling on his lips like they’re too fragile to say out loud. “This entire time, I never stopped. I just thought I was doing what was right by letting you go. I thought I was saving you from… from me. I couldn’t ruin your life anymore.”

You inhale sharply, the air catching in your throat as his words hang in the space between you like a heavy fog. You want to be angry, to lash out, but instead, all you feel is a deep, consuming sadness. It’s like everything you’ve held back, every ounce of pain and longing, is suddenly sitting right there on the surface, impossible to hide.

Your voice is soft, almost trembling as you speak. “You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Rafe. You don’t get to choose when you love me and when you let me go.”

Rafe’s face crumples at your words, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I know,” he chokes out, his voice barely a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt you. I was so scared of losing you that I ended up pushing you away. And now… now I’ve lost you anyway.”

There’s a silence that follows, heavy and suffocating, as if the weight of everything left unsaid is pressing down on your chest. You blink back the tears that have gathered in your eyes, finally allowing one to slip down your cheek.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you for this,” you admit, your voice strained and filled with a pain that’s almost unbearable to hear.

Rafe steps forward as if to reach for you, but he stops himself, his hand falling back to his side. “I don’t expect you to,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. “I just needed you to know… I needed you to hear it from me. I never stopped loving you, and I never will.”

You close your eyes, letting the tears fall freely as his words wash over you. It feels like every emotion you’ve tried to bury is clawing its way back up to the surface, tearing you apart from the inside. You want to shut him out, to run away and pretend this conversation never happened, but you can’t. Not now. Not after everything he’s said.

With a shaky hand, you wipe the tears from your cheeks, sniffling as you let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “So what now, huh?” you ask, your voice strained with raw emotion. “You love me, but in a few weeks, you’ll be off marrying someone else?”

Your expression twists with anger and heartbreak, the frustration building up like an unbearable pressure in your chest. It’s like everything you’ve held back for so long is finally breaking free, and you can’t stop it anymore. You look at him with a fury born out of pain, your eyes ablaze with a mix of betrayal and sorrow.

Rafe flinches at your words, his face crumpling as if you’ve physically struck him. He shakes his head frantically, trying to find something — anything — to say that will make this right. But the truth is, he doesn’t have an answer. He’s caught in his own web of mistakes, and he knows it.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he whispers, almost to himself, as if he’s trying to convince himself that his actions were justified. But even he knows it’s a lie. He looks up at you, his eyes pleading for some kind of forgiveness, some kind of understanding. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Then why did you?” you cry out, your voice breaking. “Why did you do this to me? Why did you let me believe that you didn’t care when you knew how much I loved you?”

The silence that follows is deafening, filled with all the things that neither of you can say. You’re both standing there, barely holding it together. Rafe takes a step towards you, his hand reaching out as if he wants to touch you, to comfort you. But you take a step back, shaking your head.

“No — don’t touch me!” you shout, stumbling back as Rafe reaches out for you. You throw your hand in the air, creating a barrier between you. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Your voice cracks, filled with a raw pain that you’ve been holding in for far too long.

The words escape your lips like a scream, your sobs growing louder as the reality of everything crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. It’s as if the dam you’ve kept up for so long has finally broken, and there’s no stopping the flood of emotions now.

Rafe’s hand drops to his side, his face pale and stricken as he watches you fall apart in front of him. He wants to say something, anything, to take back what he’s done, but the words seem to be caught in his throat, strangled by his own guilt.

“You ruined me, Rafe!” you cry out, your voice laced with a bitterness that makes him flinch. “You fucking ruined me!” You point to your chest, stabbing your finger against your sternum as if you’re trying to drill the pain into him, to make him feel even an ounce of what you’re feeling.

“And now you get to live your life with someone else,” you continue, your words heavy with despair, “and I’m still here, trying to get over you.” Your voice breaks on the last word, your face contorted in anguish as tears stream down your cheeks.

You look at him, your eyes filled with a mix of heartbreak and fury. It’s almost unbearable, the way he looks at you — like he’s seeing you for the first time, truly understanding the depth of the pain he’s caused. His lips part as if to say something, but no sound comes out. He stands there, helpless and broken, as he realizes the full weight of what he’s done to you.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you continue, your voice trembling. “To be replaced? To watch you make a future with someone else while I'm still stuck in the past?”

Rafe’s eyes fill with tears, his chest heaving as the weight of his own guilt crashes down on him. He shakes his head, and when he finally speaks, his voice is barely a whisper, strained with intense emotion. “I see what this has done to you, y/n," he says, his words trembling with sincerity. "And I can’t tell you how sorry I am for hurting you like this. But this —” he gestures between the two of you, his hand trembling as he struggles to find the right words, “— this is hurting me too.”

His eyes are pleading, desperate for you to understand. “You don’t get what I’m saying, y/n. There is no future without you. I can’t even fucking look at Sofia without subconsciously comparing her to you. I can’t even imagine a life where you’re not there.”

You flinch at his confession, feeling your chest tighten as his words sink in. It feels like a gut punch, hearing him say out loud what you’ve feared deep down — that he still loves you, that he’s been pretending all along. You clench your fists, trying to steel yourself against the burning emotions his words bring up. It hurts too much to even look at him right now, the man who was once your everything, standing there and admitting he still wants you despite everything.

“You’re engaged, Rafe,” you choke out, as if reminding him — or maybe reminding yourself. “You’re about to marry her, start a new life with her. How can you say that to me?”

Rafe shakes his head frantically, wiping the tears from his cheeks as if trying to scrub away his own shame. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice breaking. “I don’t fucking know how I got here. I thought I was doing what was right, I thought I was moving on. But the entire time I’ve been fooling myself. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

You stare at him, stunned into silence. The sincerity in his eyes, the way his voice cracks when he says your name — it’s too much. It’s everything you’ve wanted to hear, but it’s also everything you’ve feared because it complicates the pain you’ve worked so hard to bury.

“I can’t stand this,” he continues, taking a step closer. He looks at you with an anguish that you’ve never seen from him before, like he’s on the verge of completely unraveling. “I can’t stand the thought of spending my life with someone else when every part of me still loves you. I don’t want a future where I’m constantly wishing it was you beside me instead.”

“Then why?” you finally whisper, your voice breaking as you look at him through your tears. “Why didn’t you fight for us? Why didn’t you choose me?”

Rafe’s face crumples, a sob escaping his lips as he takes another step forward. “Because I was scared, Y/N. I was scared that I’d destroy you, that I’d ruin your life the way I’ve ruined everything else. I thought you deserved better, someone who wouldn’t drag you down with their bullshit. I thought letting you go was what you needed.”

Your lips tremble, your eyes glued to the ground as you stand there before him, openly weeping. The sobs come out in shuddering gasps, and it’s painfully clear that you’re waging a war with yourself, torn between the pull of your heart and the reality staring you in the face.

“This is wrong...” you choke out, shaking your head as you look down at the pavement. “This entire thing is so fucked up now, Rafe.” You take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself, but your voice cracks with the weight of your words. “I can’t tell you I want to be with you knowing you have a fiancée. I’m not that type of person.”

Rafe looks at you, completely shattered. The realization of how deeply he’s hurt you, and how badly he’s messed everything up, is etched across his face. He steps closer, his hands reaching out, but he stops himself just inches away, as if he’s afraid that touching you would make it even worse.

“You don’t think I know that?” he whispers, his voice filled with a vulnerable, desperate plea. “You don’t think I’ve been tearing myself apart over this? I know what I did. I know I put you in this impossible position. But God, y/n, I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

It’s as if the sincerity in Rafe’s voice drags you into a tidal wave of emotions you can’t control. Your sobs grow harder, louder, as you struggle against the rising tide of everything you’ve kept bottled up inside. You wipe your tears with the back of your trembling hand, trying to steady your breath. It takes every ounce of strength you have left to lift your eyes and look at him, your voice barely a whisper, choked with disbelief.

"So what do you suggest, Rafe?" you manage to get out, your words laced with pain and anger. "Because I’m not a homewrecker, and I’m sure as hell not gonna start now." You say it with a force that surprises even you, as if you need to convince yourself just as much as him.

Rafe’s eyes widen, filling with a desperate, almost frantic light. He steps closer, his hands reaching out as if to touch you, but he hesitates, letting them fall back to his sides. He’s trembling, his chest heaving as he struggles to get the words out. "I’ll... I’ll break things off with her," he stammers, his voice raw and pleading. "I’ll tell her I don’t want this anymore. Whatever it takes, I’ll do it."

He looks at you with an earnestness that you haven’t seen in years, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He’s practically begging, his voice breaking as he continues, "Please, just... just let me make this right. Let me fix this."

You stand there, stunned into silence. The weight of his words, the sheer gravity of his promise, leaves you breathless. You search his face, trying to find any hint of doubt or hesitation, but all you see is desperation. He’s standing there, laying his heart bare before you, offering you everything he has left.

And yet, the fear and doubt in your chest tighten like a vice. It’s everything you ever wanted to hear from him, and yet it feels like it’s coming too late. "You’d break off your engagement?" you whisper, almost disbelieving, as if you need him to say it again for you to believe it.

"Yes," Rafe breathes out without hesitation, his voice cracking. "I would. I’ll do it right now if that’s what it takes. I’ll call her, I’ll tell her everything. Just—just don’t walk away from me. Not again."

You stand there, frozen in shock and grief. He’s offering to leave everything behind—his fiancée, his life as he knows it—all for you. It’s everything you once dreamed of hearing from him, but now it feels like a hollow promise, a desperate plea that leaves you at odds with yourself. Your heart pounds in your chest, torn between the memories of the boy you first loved and the stranger standing before you now, a man who’s broken you more than anyone ever has.

You swallow hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you look at him, searching his face for any sign of the boy you once knew. "How do I know you won't do the same to me, Rafe?" you ask, your eyes filled with both heartbreak and accusation. "How do I know that you won't change your mind in a few months, or decide again that I'm not worth the fight? How do I trust you after everything you've put me through?"

Rafe's voice shakes, his eyes searching yours, desperate for any sign of understanding. "You’re my first love," he repeats, softer this time, as if the words themselves carry a burden he’s never let go of. His gaze is intense, filled with intense emotion that seems to pierce straight through you.

"I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. And I know I messed up, I know I hurt you—more than I ever should have. But you’re the one I keep coming back to, no matter what, no matter how hard I try to move on." He swallows hard, his voice cracking slightly. "I’ve been trying to tell myself that I could be happy with Sofia, that I could settle for what I have now, but I can’t. Not when I keep thinking about you. About us."

His hands twitch at his sides, a barely contained energy as he steps closer, but not enough to invade your space. He seems to respect the distance you’ve created, but you can feel the pull of his presence, the desperation in his every word.

"I made a mistake, y/n," he says, his voice breaking as if the weight of the confession is physically painful. "And I know that doesn’t change anything. But what I feel for you—it’s not something I can just walk away from. I can’t forget about you. I don’t want to forget about you."

You’re silent, your thoughts a tangled mess, but the truth in his words cuts through the chaos, and you can’t help but feel that old connection flaring inside of you. The love that was once so pure, so certain, but now feels like a distant memory, something impossible to hold onto in this moment.

But Rafe is still standing there, eyes pleading with you, waiting for you to speak. His words hang in the air, heavy. "You’re my first love, y/n. And that means something to me. I can’t just let it go."

The sincerity in his voice cracks your walls just a little more, and for a brief second, you want to believe him. You want to give in and let him in again. But the fear, the pain, the loss—it all rushes back. How could you trust him again after everything he’s done?

But his eyes—those same eyes that once held so much promise—are full of regret, full of a longing that makes your heart ache. And despite everything, despite the doubt that still lingers like a shadow between you, you can’t help but ask, "What are you asking of me, Rafe?"

His lips tremble as he opens his mouth to respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’m asking you to give me a chance. A real chance to prove to you that I won’t make the same mistake again. I’m asking you to trust me again, even if it’s just for a little while. To let me show you I’m not the same person who walked away."

You take a shaky breath, your heart pounding in your chest. It feels like a decision that could change everything—everything you’ve worked for to protect yourself from him, from the hurt. But the sincerity in his eyes, the raw emotion in his voice, it pulls at something inside you. Something you thought was long buried.

"Please, y/n," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion, "just give me a chance."

You stand there, frozen for a moment, as Rafe’s words echo in your mind. Your heart is a battlefield, torn between the pain of the past and the ache for what could’ve been. You can’t ignore the emotions swirling inside you—the longing, the betrayal, the love that’s never really gone away.

You stare at him, your expression unreadable, as your eyes flicker between his. You’re caught in a moment of vulnerability, unsure of what to do next. But then, all the years of hurt, the anger, the love you’d buried deep inside you, rush to the surface in one overwhelming wave.

Without thinking, you reach up to him, your hand trembling as you pull his face toward yours. His breath catches as your lips meet in a kiss that’s electric, full of all the things you can’t put into words. At first, it’s tentative, a question in the way you both move, as if unsure if this is real, if this is the right thing to do. But the moment he responds, pulling you closer, you know you’re both lost in this—lost in the feelings that have always been there, buried beneath the hurt and the distance.

Rafe’s hands slide to your back, pressing you against him, and you can feel the heat of his body, the desperation in the way he holds you, like he’s afraid to let go, like you might slip away again. His lips are soft but demanding, as if he’s trying to make up for all the time that’s been lost. Your heart races, and everything around you fades into nothingness. It’s just you and him, just the connection you once had, reigniting in a way that feels both comforting and painful all at once.

For a moment, everything is perfect. All the doubts, all the pain, fade away in the warmth of his touch, in the way his kiss deepens, as if he’s trying to pour everything he’s kept inside into you. But then, a sharp pang of reality stabs at you. This isn’t a fairytale. This isn’t a happy ending yet. Your hands push against his chest, breaking the kiss, and you take a step back, your breath ragged.

Rafe stares at you, his chest heaving, his face flushed with emotion. His hands are still outstretched, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets you go. His lips are swollen, his eyes searching yours for any sign that this is real, that you haven’t just pulled away because of the past.

You pull away from the kiss just long enough to look into his eyes, searching for any sign of doubt, any hint that this might be a fleeting moment, but you find none. There’s only sincerity and longing, as if he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as you have. The realization hits you all at once: this is real, and it’s all he’s ever wanted, too.

Before you can even process the thoughts racing through your mind, you’re pulled back into him. His lips crash against yours once again, but this time, it’s different. It’s not just a kiss—it’s a confession, a promise, a desperate release of everything you both kept inside for so long. The world around you disappears as your hands find their way to his hair, tugging him closer as if you can’t get enough of him.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly, and in a heartbeat, your legs are wrapped around his waist. The cool air outside disappears as the heat between you both intensifies. He presses you against the truck door, his lips still capturing yours, and you can feel the weight of his desire in every movement.

Rafe groans against your lips, his breath ragged, his hands pulling you closer as though he’s afraid you might slip away from him again. He moves with a hunger you’ve never seen before, and yet, it’s familiar, as if every kiss, every touch is a reminder of something you both once had and now desperately crave. You can feel his heart hammering in his chest, matching the erratic rhythm of your own.

You pull away, your lips swollen from the intensity, but your foreheads stay pressed together, both of you gasping for air. His hands roam to your back, holding you against him as if he can’t bear the thought of letting go. The vulnerability of the moment is overwhelming, but it’s also freeing. In this moment, you don’t care about the past. You don’t care about the pain, the mistakes, or the fear. All that matters is right here, right now, with him.

"Rafe," you whisper, your voice breaking as you look up at him. “This is… too much, I—”

He cuts you off with another kiss, gentle this time, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I know. I know. But I can’t help it, y/n. I need you. I’ve always needed you.”

The words hit you harder than anything else, and despite every doubt that lingers, you know this is the real Rafe, the one you fell for all those years ago. He’s here. And he’s not going anywhere.

"I still love you, Rafe. I've never fully stopped."

Rafe’s breath catches in his throat as he hears your words. His entire body goes still for a moment, as if he's trying to process what you've just said. His fingers dig into your back, pulling you even closer as though he's afraid that if he lets go, you’ll disappear.

His eyes search yours, desperate for confirmation, for a sign that you mean it, that you’re not saying it out of guilt or hurt. His heart races in his chest, the same way it always did when you were near. But this time, there’s something different in the way he looks at you—a sense of relief, of finally being seen and understood after everything that’s passed between you both.

“I never stopped loving you,” he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. “I never fucking stopped, y/n.”

His hands cradle your face gently, his thumb brushing away a stray tear you didn’t even realize had fallen. His gaze softens, a mix of regret and longing flooding his expression. “I don’t deserve you, but I’ll do whatever it takes to prove to you that I can be what you need. I can be the man you’ve always wanted me to be.”

You lean into his touch, the weight of the words, of everything that’s been left unsaid, starting to settle in. It’s still chaos, and the reality of everything is still real and messy. But in this moment, you realize that you don’t need to have it all figured out right now. What matters is the connection between you two, the bond that’s never really broken, no matter how far apart you’ve been.

“I just want you to stay,” you say softly, your voice trembling, but steady. “No more running. No more pushing me away. Just stay, Rafe. I need you.”

Rafe’s eyes close for a moment, taking in the full depth of your words, and then he nods. A tear slips down his cheek, but it’s not one of sadness—it’s one of relief, of knowing that maybe, just maybe, this is the second chance he’s been waiting for.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice filled with the certainty that comes with knowing exactly what he wants. “I’ll never leave you again.”

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #obx #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #rafe obx

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canon-in-too-deep · 1 month ago

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50 Free Typesets

New achievement unlocked! I now have 50 public domain books/typesets available for FREE in my library! 🥳 Above is a collage of all 50 title pages.

What does this mean? It means that these classic books have been typeset (typographic, book design, layout work done), and are ready as pdfs that can be used to read, print out, book bind, or burn at your pleasure! (Just keep it to personal use only!)

The full list (with page sizes now noted) of all 50 books available can be found here on my tumblrary directory/masterlist (which will update as I add more), and below the break of this post!

Please please feel free to request access to my library (aka, yee good ol' googly drive). I usually respond within 24 hours, and they are indeed free! Just leave credit if you use, and consider liking/reblogging!

Also, if you find any errors in the files, let me know! I made these in Affinity, not with an AI program, and typos are natural spawns XD

From Frankenstein to Pride and Prejudice, to Sherlock Holmes to a dude that wakes up as a bug, I've been honored to be able to typeset these books and share them with all of you.

A part of me wants to ramble on about the behind the scenes and my continuing personal journey of amateur typesetting...but I think the most important thing I can say is simply thank you! to everyone that's stopped by! So thank you all! (And should I try for 100? 🤔 Hmmm...)

Warning! Wall of text below the break!

All 50 typesets available (some have alternate versions in library):

Persuasion by Jane Austen (Letter Folio)

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson (Letter Quarto)

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (Letter Folio)

The Merry Adventures of Robinhood by Howard Pyle (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Peter Pan by J. M. Barrie (Letter Folio)

Dracula by Bram Stoker (Letter Folio)

The Call of Cthulhu by H. P. Lovecraft (Letter Quarto)

The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde (Letter Folio)

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Invisible Man by H. G. Wells (Letter Folio)

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (Letter Folio)

The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare (Letter Folio)

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde (Letter Folio)

The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Odyssey by Homer (Letter Folio)

Tales of Space and Time by H. G. Wells (Letter Folio)

The House of Mirth by Edith Wharton (Letter Folio)

A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Book of Dragons by E. Nesbit (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Much Ado About Nothing by William Shakespeare (Letter Folio)

Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea by Jules Verne (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky (Letter Folio)

Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne (Letter Folio)

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

Leave it to Psmith by P. G. Wodehouse (Letter Folio)

Lord Peter views the body by Dorothy L. Sayers (Letter Folio)

The Room in the Tower by E. F. Benson (Letter Folio)

Right Ho, Jeeves by P. G. Wodehouse (Letter Folio)

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells (Letter Folio)

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka (Letter Quarto)

Poirot Investigates by Agatha Christie (Letter Folio)

Grimms' Fairy Tales by Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm (Letter Folio)

The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (Letter Folio)

Andersen's Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen (Letter Folio)

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow by Washington Irving (Letter Quarto)

Shakespeare's Sonnets by William Shakespeare (Letter Folio)

The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe (Illustrated) (Letter Octavo)

Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery (Letter Folio)

A Journey to the Centre of the Earth by Jules Verne (Letter Folio)

Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen (Letter Folio)

Notre-Dame de Paris by Victor Hugo (Letter Folio)

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë (Letter Folio)

The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (Letter Folio)

The Blue Fairy Book (Font Sampler Edition) edited by Andrew Lang (Letter Folio)

A Princess of Mars by Edgar Rice Burroughs (Letter Folio)

Ivanhoe by Sir Walter Scott (Illustrated) (Letter Folio)

The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie (Letter Folio)

Emma by Jane Austen (Letter Folio)

Paradise Lost by John Milton (Letter Folio)

#50 books done!#typesets #typesetting #book binding #book design #book #free to use #in_D Press #affinity publisher

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dlstmxkakwldrlarchive · 1 year ago

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SHINee: 📸🌿💎

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hgfictionwriter · 5 months ago

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Self Control: Part Six - Friends

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie wants to give you the world. And when she's away from you, you miss each other terribly. And how will Janine and Sinc react when they find out the good news?

Warnings: G!P smut. Phone sex. Masturbation (and getting caught). Language.

A/N: Mostly fluff, but a sprinkle of smut in there as well ;) I’m also not promoting one birth plan over another - that’s totally personal to each person/couple and this is just a story! Rest of the series can be found here.

You were curled up against Jessie on the couch, your knees tucked in and leaning against her leg. You were on your phone and she idly caressed your thigh as she only half-intently watched a documentary on TV. Her mind was preoccupied with various thoughts when you piped up.

"We're all set for the midwife's visit tomorrow, right?" You asked.

"Hm?" Jessie asked idly before giving her head a subtle shake and coming to. "Yeah, we're set."

Jessie watched you as you nodded and returned to your phone. You floated the idea out there early on to do a home birth and, although you were both tentative - safety and concern top of mind - Jessie loved the idea of you two bringing your little one into the world in the comfort of your own home instead of a cold, impersonal hospital room.

You'd both done research into risks, what was involved, and talked with Dr. Mal about options. She connected you with a midwifery practice that offered collaborative care with her clinic. They'd still go for major appointments at Dr. Mal's, but all information would be available to both and Jessie and you would get more personal, flexible care through the midwife. Between that continuity of care and upon meeting the team, Jessie relaxed.

Tomorrow your midwife would stop by your apartment for a home visit to explore if it was an option and to further talk through birth plans.

In fact, that's kind of what was on Jessie's mind. She chewed the inside of her lip and toyed with the hem of your shorts.

"What's wrong?" You asked, interrupting her thoughts and causing her to look at you in surprise once more. You smirked at her. "You're fidgeting."

"Just thinking," Jessie said slowly, almost pouting though she finished with a short laugh.

"Yeah? What about?" You asked as you gently played with her hair and awaited an answer.

Jessie pulled you onto her lap, you releasing a laugh as she maneuvered you. Your fingers automatically laced around the back of her neck and her hands rested on your waist as she looked up at you.

"I'm just wondering if this visit tomorrow might be a bit moot. At least part of it." She held back a smile at how you screwed up your face at her. Her gaze flit away and she shrugged. "I just don't know if we'll be giving birth here."

"What do you mean?" You asked. "I thought we both wanted that. I mean, yes, we need a hospital transfer plan, but I thought the goal was to have the baby here," you went on, concern creeping onto your features.

"But what if I want to buy us a house?" Jessie asked nonchalantly, allowing a hint of a smile to cross her lips.

You shook your head out. "I'm sorry - what?" Jessie laughed, rubbing her hands up your sides.

"A house," she repeated as if it was simple and obvious. Now she smiled fully at you. "We could use more space. You have to admit - it's going to be a bit tight in here as our kid gets older. And, you know, we talked about the possibility of a second," she finished, her smile turning shy. She watched as you seemed to ready a rebuttal, but ultimately relented.

"I suppose. But we can make it work for a while," you compromised. Jessie gave you a look.

"Why though?" She asked. "We have the money. It would be nice to get settled into a new home before the baby arrives, not fighting for every foot of space for items. Plus the noise," Jessie went on as she gestured down the hall.

"I see you've put some thought into this," you said with a smirk as you tucked her hair behind her ear.

"Maybe." She grinned, before growing earnest. "I want us to have a home together. I know this is our home, but...I want a house for us. I want a yard where the little one and I, "she rest her hand on your still-flat stomach, "can kick the ball around. Run around the backyard. Water fights in summer. And if there's ever snow - build a snowman together. Maybe I can build them a little treehouse, too. Buy a dog!"

A smile had crept onto your face as she spoke with increasing enthusiasm. She waited quietly as you contemplated. It only took you a few seconds before gave an affectionate roll of your eyes.

"Domestication is hitting you hard, Fleming," you teased before you leaned in to kiss her.

"This is what I've always wanted," Jessie said quietly before cracking a faint smirk. "I can't help it if it took so long to meet you." You rolled your eyes good-naturedly at her once more, spurring a wave of affection in her.

"Charmer," you deadpanned as you kissed her again; slowly this time. "Fine. A house it is. But none of this ‘I’m buying a house for us’ business. We will buy a house together.”

“Deal.”

-------

"Hey, baby," you greeted, your voice feeding through Jessie's airpods as she sat on her bed, knees up with her arms resting on them as she held up her phone in front of her as she Facetimed you. "I didn't expect a call from you."

"I know," Jessie said, smiling quietly at you through the screen. "Janine and a few others are checking out some shops in town here. Figured I'd take it an opportunity to get some solitude."

"So you called me," you teased.

"Of course," she replied easily, tilting her chin up rather pleased with herself. "How are you feeling?"

"Good," you told her, holding up crossed fingers so she could see. "I don't want to jinx anything, but...maybe this second trimester, no morning sickness thing may be true."

"I really hope so," Jessie told you earnestly. "I know how hard it's been for you." You raised your eyebrows in agreement, but smirked at her.

"Thankfully, I have a very thoughtful, doting girlfriend who took great care of me throughout."

"Least I could do," she laughed and you arched an eyebrow.

"Yeah, actually. I guess that's true," you agreed before laughing furthermore. "Still. I appreciate you." You went on. "So, enough about me. How's Orlando? How was practice today?"

Jessie relayed how the day went and any little quirks that had come up.

"I saw the videos your team put up today of training," you relayed. "You looked amazing."

"Oh." Jessie laughed, somehow still blushing after all this time. "Well, thank you."

You whined. "I wish that sexy body of yours was over here instead."

"Oh," Jessie said again, further caught off guard though a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You really are feeling better."

"Yeah," you said, nodding earnestly. "And I'm fucking horny. It's worse than before, Jess. I swear."

Jessie averted her gaze, suddenly extra alert and nervous about her whereabouts. Sure, she was in her room, but still. She looked back to you and gave you a coy smile.

"Well. I wish I was there to help you," she said simply. You groaned and rolled your eyes and entirely not in the way she was accustomed to.

"Babe," you whined. "You have to do better than that."

"I can't right now," Jessie whispered unnecessarily as she peered around. You pouted.

"I thought you said Janine went out."

"She did," Jessie said with a small sigh of exasperation. It's true - she should be gone for a while. She was paranoid still, but logically speaking, she did have a window of opportunity.

"Fine," you said, relenting with a mild eye roll. You took a breath to reset and started anew. "So what's tomorrow looking like for you guys?"

"Well, hold on," Jessie interjected, not happy with how things ended. Her gaze darted left to right in the empty room until she settled on you again with a small gesturing nod. "If you're so worked up," she paused momentarily, a smirk forming, "why don't you tell me how worked up you are."

You gave her a scrutinizing, lingering look before you set your shoulders back and gave a faint smile of victory.

"Not sure you deserve to know," you taunted with a glint in your eye. Jessie's jaw fell agape, affronted by your accusation.

"Baby," she implored. "I want to know more than anything." Her breathing deepened subconsciously. She whispered. "Now, be a good girl, slip your fingers inside your underwear and tell me how wet you are for me."

You groaned again, this time exactly in the way she wanted you to. She watched intently as you bit your lip and she could see your shoulder moving and flexing as you began to touch yourself.

"Oh fuck, Jess." Your eyes drifted shut as you made contact and all she could do was sit there as your shoulders rose and fell, your head tossed back. You opened your eyes to look at her. "I'm absolutely dripping for you." You moaned softly, eyes falling shut once more. "I need you so bad."

Jessie exhaled steadily, needing to avert her gaze, but that doing nothing to limit the effect your husky voice and needy moans were having on her. She bit her lips together, eyes trained on the wall as she tried to will away the sensation of her cock starting to swell with arousal. You really were a siren call to her and no matter how many times she had you, she was still powerless under your influence.

"God, I wish I was riding your cock right now," you breathed. Jessie's eyes screwed shut at the vision of it and she cleared her throat. Despite her intentions, she opened her eyes once more to look at you and was met with video of your body writhing as you continued to pleasure yourself.

"Babe, you gotta cool it," Jessie urged you as she glanced down to see her shorts tenting. You opened your eyes, hooded with lust, to look at her with a cocky smirk.

"Why? Is my baby getting worked up?" You asked knowing damn well what the answer was. "Do you need my mouth on your cock? I love when you gently nudge the back of my throat, your hips softly bucking, when I know full well you want to fuck my throat."

"Jesus," Jessie hissed, eyes averting once more as her cheeks began to flash crimson.

"Or should we just cut straight to it. Me bouncing up and down on your thick cock. It feels so incredible when you fill me up." You moaned. "I love when you take it slow, taking such good care of me, so attentive. But nothing beats when you lose control and you fuck me like your life depends on it. Like there's nothing else in this world."

"Oh God," Jessie groaned through grit teeth as she looked up at the ceiling. She didn't need to check to know that her shorts were fully tented now.

"Shit," she mumbled as she reached under her waistband and into her shorts. Her eyes shut as soon as she wrapped her hand around her hard on. "God, what you do to me," Jessie said.

She blew out a steady breath as she circled her sensitive head with her thumb.

“Mm, fuck, I’m so hard for you, babe. I just want to be inside of that hot, tight pussy of yours,” she said. You moaned in her ear and she reciprocated. "I wish-"

A cold wave of panic went over her as her moment of relief was cutoff by the sound of the hotel door unlocking and swinging open.

"Jess, have you seen my wallet?"

"Fuck," Jessie hissed under her breath as she retracted her hand from her shorts as fast as possible. She turned away from the entryway where Janine and who knows else would be appearing any moment now. Her hands shook she frantically snatched up a pillow and clutched it to her as she laid on her side and tried to look like she was casually Facetiming you. She couldn't mask the glare she shot you as you stifled laughter.

"Oh hey," Jessie feigned faint surprise as Janine, Kelli and Sam appeared.

"Hi," Janine said absently as she began tossing clothes around as she looked for her wallet. "So have you seen my wallet?"

"No," Jessie said curtly, eyes on the blonde and then the others briefly before facing you once more.

"Can they hear me?" You asked quietly and Jessie narrowed her eyes at you in another glare as she did her best to ignore the incessant throbbing between her legs. "No," she nearly grumbled.

Kelli leaned over Jessie's laying form and waved at you. "Hi wifey!" You waved back entirely casually as though you weren't just fingering yourself 10 seconds ago.

"Jess can you get up and help me look," Janine complained as she continued to tear the room apart.

"Find it yourself," Jessie refuted with a frown. Janine grumbled and stomped over to the brunette, snatching her phone and one of her airpods out of her ear to wear it. Jessie leaned up slightly to try to grab it, but couldn't fully without risking losing her cover.

"Hi, love," Janine greeted sweetly before her face fell. "Can you tell Jessie to get up and help me?"

"Uh, I can try," you said slowly, holding back a laugh. Jessie could still hear you in the remaining earpiece. "But she's tired from practice. I bet Kelli's great at scavenger hunts."

Janine rolled her eyes at you and huffed. "Should've known you'd side with her." She sighed once more and grabbed the pillow, giving it a tug. Jessie held onto it tightly. At this, Janine frowned.

"What the- come on, Jess," she implored as she tugged harder on the pillow, Jessie reciprocating the same.

"Just take my wallet," Jessie complained. "I'm trying to rest and talk to my girlfriend. Leave me alone."

In a flash, all three of her teammates reamed on the pillow and left Jessie still fully tented shorts exposed. Janine literally screamed and covered her eyes, while the others gasped and started laughing riotously.

"Fuck off," Jessie yelled as she grabbed the other pillow and sat up laying it on her. Her face burned immensely hot as she swatted at her friends to get out.

"Oh my God, babe," she heard you say through conflicted laughter. "I'm so sorry." Janine yelled again and tossed the phone onto the bed like it scalded her and she gave Jessie back her airpod.

"You can have her back," she yelled for you to hear. "And yeah. I'm taking your wallet. Oh my gosh, you two. It's only been a day. Get it together."

-------

It was no surprise when Jessie received relentless teasing from the entire team the following day. She pouted and grumbled, trying now and then to deflect with bravado, but for the most part she spent the better half of the day with her hood up, blushing and dodging jokes. Thankfully, by the time the ride to the stadium came around people had mostly moved on.

She'd texted with you throughout the day, you commiserating and apologizing for yesterday's event. She wasn't actually mad; it was fun while it lasted and she just didn't like attention at the best of times, never mind for something like this.

The game went well, Jessie played the full 90 and though she didn't log an assist or a goal, her stats were still solid and she felt good about things.

That evening, back at the hotel she sat around with Janine and Sinc. She was grateful that even after retiring from club play, Sinc came on staff as an offensive coach for forward and attacking midfielders.

They were all chatting when Jessie's phone buzzed. She looked to see a message from you. It was a listing for a house along with a message:

A south facing yard just for you and our little one. So you can play football together until the late hours of the night.

"I'd ask, "What's got you smiling like that?" but honestly, I'm afraid to," Janine quipped. “And I don’t need to ask ‘Who’.”

Jessie lifted her head in delayed recognition of Janine's question, only afterward realizing she was still smiling.

With you now officially just entering your second trimester, you were at a stage where you could share the news. She wanted to tell her friends before a more formal announcement went out to acquaintances and others. You told her to do it whenever and however felt right. She didn't know how that looked, but, sitting here with two of her oldest friends, it seemed clear.

"Um," she started, putting her phone away and taking a breath, she ignored how they both frowned at her. "I was smiling because Y/N and I are looking at buying a house."

Janine's jaw dropped in surprise and Christine nodded in approval. Janine started asking a million questions and Jessie calmly cut her off.

"There are lots of reasons we'd want a house, but, the biggest is," she paused, shrugging lightly, "we need the space. Because, our family is growing." She could see the wheels turning inside their heads and she smiled as she went on. "Y/N's pregnant. We're having a baby."

If Janine was surprised before, she was absolutely beyond now. Even Sinclair's jaw hit the floor.

Before Jessie knew it, Janine flung herself across the space between them and threw herself onto Jessie in a bear hug.

"Oh my God!" She exclaimed. "That is so exciting! I'm so happy for you!" When she pulled back, tears were in her eyes, immediately causing tears to spring to Jessie's. Something seemed to spark in Janine’s mind as she paused, all excitement on hold as she eyed the brunette. "Wait - you're excited, right? It's a good thing?"

"Oh my God," Jessie frowned as she gave Janine a light shove. "Of course it's a good thing. This was planned," she said in exaggeration. "Geez." She rolled her eyes. "I'm very excited."

"Okay, great," Janine said, all of her previous enthusiasm coming right back. "Oh my gosh! I want to plan the baby shower. Wait - will she let me? Probably not. Well, I can throw one for you! Why not!"

"Okay, okay," Sinc said as she put a hand on Janine's shoulder and got her sit back down. "Give the woman some space to breathe. There's still lots of time for you to insert yourself into this whole journey," she joked, side-eying the girl.

Janine now settled, Sinclair got up and Jessie rose to be pulled into a hug.

"Congrats, kid," Christine said before chuckling. "Guess I can't call you that anymore."

She pulled back, holding Jessie by the shoulders as she smiled at her, giving a small shake of her head. "Crazy to think. I met you when you were just a kid. And since then you've built this incredible career - top teams, Olympic medals, National team captain," she said with a wink, "and you've never let any of it go to your head. Still just as humble and sweet today as you were back then. You met this awesome woman who makes you happier than I've ever seen you, and now you two are having a kid of your own. It's amazing. I'm proud of you and I'm so happy for you."

By now, Jessie was, rather unsuccessfully, blinking back tears. Sinclair chuckled, tousling Jessie's hair.

"But you're still a bit of a crier," she teased. "That's okay. That kid is going to be so lucky to have you as a parent. Couldn't ask for better."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #jflem #canwnt x reader #woso smut #g!p

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zepskies · 3 months ago

Text

Lost Time

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

AN: I’ve been wanting to get to this for a while now! Here’s a sequel story in the Every Second Counts world. Also, this is one of my entries for @jacklesversebingo!

Prompt: “Are you trying to get us in trouble?”

Word Count: 4.9K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, fluff upon fluff, implied smut, mild spice.~ **DOES NOT contain spoilers for 2x02. This was written long before the new episode came out. But look out for the little announcement at the end. Some (smutty) bonus content on the way!

💜 Series Masterlist || Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Wolfing down lunch alone in your office usually meant you wouldn’t be disturbed. That distraction tended to come in the form of either Dr. Goldstein, History Department Chair (AKA: your boss), or Chris Belmont.

The latter was a language arts professor who liked to pop in on you when you were alone in the teacher’s lounge, often trying to revive yourself with a cup of Keurig coffee. Or he’d sit down next to you (uninvited) and talk your ear off.

Today, however, you made time for your brother between bites of your admittedly sad ham sandwich. You held the phone to your ear while you ate and tried to resist the urge to answer emails. This was the first month that he’d gotten phone privileges. You wanted to give him your undivided attention.

Not to mention, you genuinely wanted to know how Charlie was doing in rehab. He told you that his leg was healing up well after the surgery to repair the damage from Eddie Mendez’s bullet. Charlie was also getting put through his paces in the substance rehabilitation program, but he sounded truly sober. He sounded like himself.

“I finally get visitors this weekend,” he said. “Dave and Manny are coming by.”

“Dave and Manny. They sound familiar,” you said, tapping your chin with a pen out of habit, even though you weren’t writing anything down. You brightened with recognition. “Oh! Didn’t they serve with you?”

“Yeah, they were in my unit on the first go-round,” Charlie said, with a tone of fondness that you recognized. You remembered now. Those guys were like his brothers during his first tour of Iraq. He’d come home for a few months afterward, changed. You saw it behind his eyes.

And then the second tour. That was what almost killed his spirit.

“It’s good that you guys reconnected,” you said. A smile graced your lips. Charlie needed all the support and familiarity he could get, and coming from his brothers in the Air Force, it was all you could ask for really. “You got time to see your little sister?”

“Ha. Younger maybe. Definitely not little.”

“Whatever, gimpy,” you teased. He’d told you that he hated his crutches, made him feel like an old, one-legged pirate.

“I think I can pencil you in,” he said. There was good humor in his voice. “How about the Mountain Man? How’s he doing?”

Your smile dimmed. You twiddled your pen between your fingers. “He’s…good. He’s on a job right now, so I don’t think he’ll make it back in time for this weekend. But I’m sure he’d wish you well. He asks about you every time he comes home.”

“Oh, yeah? How long’s he been gone for this time?”

Your lips pursed. “Couple weeks.”

Three, and counting.

“But he’s supposed to get back next week.”

“Have you heard from him?” Charlie asked.

“Here and there,” you replied, leaning to one side of your desk chair. “He’s not really supposed to contact anyone when he’s on a job.”

“Mhmm.”

“Charlie,” you warned. You knew what he was thinking, even by that placid tone of his voice. Your brother sighed on the line.

“Look, I like Russell. What can I say, after what he did for you? For me,” Charlie said. “But…I don’t have to like what he does, or what it’s doing to you.”

Your teeth clenched, but you tried not to bristle. You knew he was just looking out for you, for once like an older brother should.

“I know what you’re saying, but we’re good. I’m good,” you said. “I knew what I was getting into…”

You saw Dr. Goldstein peek into the narrow, rectangular window in the middle of your office door. He gave you a little wave through the glass.

“Hey, Charlie, I’m sorry but I need to let you go. My boss wants to talk to me,” you said.

Another heavy sigh. “All right, I get it. Evade an unsavory conversation by playing the ‘boss’ card.”

Despite yourself, you smiled. “It’s true! Look, I love you. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Oh, fine. Evade away… Love you too,” he said begrudgingly, but in the kind of way that told you he was smiling too.

You hung up with him and beckoned Goldstein inside. He let himself in and closed the door behind him before he approached your desk. He didn’t have a stack of essays in his hand, so you counted that as a small blessing. After exchanging the usual pleasantries, however, he dropped a familiar bomb on you.

“I’m sorry to do this to you, sweetheart, but would you mind taking over my 5:00 p.m. class tomorrow? I have to step out early for an appointment,” he said.

You grated internally, for more than one reason. Primarily at the way he once again called you sweetheart. In your whole life, you’d only ever given one man permission to sweetheart you, and it certainly wasn’t Paul Goldstein.

“Well, my schedule is a bit tight tomorrow, but I think I can make that work—”

“Great! Thanks again, sweetheart,” he said, already getting up from the chair across from your desk to head out. Your voice stopped him at the door.

“Ah, you know…” You stood up from your desk. Part of you was hesitant, but the other part of you—the part that had survived nearly being shot and killed in the woods—stood firm. You rounded your desk but left a respectable distance between you and your boss.

“Paul, I would appreciate it if you would just…call me by my name. In a more professional capacity, just like I do for you,” you said. “Sweetheart, honey, that kind of thing just doesn’t make me feel very respected in the workplace.”

Goldstein blinked in surprise. He was taken aback, you could tell, as if what you’d said had never once occurred to him. Or maybe he just never thought you would call him out like that. You saw him mentally calculating though. After some recent sexual harassment allegations in the Sciences department, he likely didn’t want the headache and the red tape of an HR writeup.

“Of course. I’m sorry if I… Well, I hope you know I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said.

“I know, Paul,” you replied. But what you didn’t say was, It’s all right.

The longer you remained quietly poised with your hands laced in front of you, the more Goldstein seemed to get the message. Eventually, he cast his gaze away and left your office with a parting nod.

When the door shut behind him, your shoulders slumped as you let out a deep breath. You grabbed onto his vacated chair to steady yourself, smoothing your hand down the length of your pencil skirt.

“Well, okay then.” You smiled to yourself and grabbed your phone and keys off your desk. That small win deserved an afternoon coffee break.

You ventured over to the faculty break room and started setting up an extra-large mug of coffee from the Keurig. Pumpkin spice, here I come. Finally PSL season.

While you waited for it to percolate, you checked your phone and found no missed notifications, no calls or texts from your boyfriend. Biting the edge of your lip, you gave into the urge to check your text thread with him.

Hey, just checking in. You okay?

That was the last text you sent Russell, a few days ago. The fact that he hadn’t had time to read it worried you.

It had been three weeks since he left town on another job for the Horizon Group. He was able to reply here and there on some jobs, but often you had to deal with days of radio silence in between. This time, it had been a full two weeks since you last spoke to him–a five-minute call after he checked into his hotel, somewhere in Belize.

Despite your attempts otherwise, not a day had gone by where you hadn’t thought about him, worried about him, wondered where he was, and what he was doing.

Even after four months, this arrangement hadn’t gotten easier. Sometimes, it felt like you were living half a life without him.

The coffeemaker chiming briefly broke you out of your melancholy, but you let the coffee sit there and cool while you deliberated with your phone in hand.

You tried to resist, since you didn’t want to bother him…but you ended up sending him another text.

Hey. I don’t want to distract you. Just want you to know…

I miss you.

“Oh, look who’s here.”

You looked up, already wanting to expel a breath of annoyance at the familiar voice. You plastered on a polite smile and turned to see exactly who you expected to see: your colleague Chris. There was really nothing wrong with the French and Spanish professor…except that he talked too much, and was often too eager to get into your business.

“How’s your day going?” he asked. After he grabbed a soda from the fridge, he parked himself in front of you and laid a hand on the counter. With one of the round dining tables so close, it ensured that you would have to squeeze by him in order to leave.

“Pretty good, just have one more class before I head out for the day,” you said. You intended to just make amiable conversation, but you didn’t realize you’d just given him an opening.

“You know, me too. Just my freshman Spanish 1 kids. Dumb as doornails really. They barely even look up when I talk,” he said. “Literally, I could be reciting Mein Kampf and they wouldn’t even know I was speaking German.”

You couldn’t quite smile. You opened your mouth to reply, but he beat you to it.

“Hey, since we’re going to be clocking out soon, maybe you want to go for a drink with me. I know this bar. A little rough, but the price is right and the food’s not bad. This place called Howley’s,” he said.

Your non-smile dropped further. You really didn’t know where to start on this one.

“Ah, well—” you began, but again, he cut you off.

“To be honest, I’ve kind of been meaning to ask you for a while. I just uh, haven’t been able to find the right time. Since, you know, our class schedules don’t seem to match,” he added with a boyish smile.

He was cute, you could admit, with the dirty blonde hair down to his ears and the dark brown eyes. But it didn’t shake your resolve.

“Look, Chris. I’m sorry, but—”

“Is because we work together?” he said, once again interrupting you. “The whole workplace relationship thing?”

“No,” you said. It was sharper than you meant through your annoyance. “I actually have a boyfriend.”

Chris’s excited-nervous energy gradually deflated, his eyes dimming.

“Really? I’ve never seen you with anyone,” he said.

You quirked a brow at him. “Well, he doesn’t work here, so he wouldn’t really need to come to campus.”

You didn’t tell him that Russell was Dory’s older brother, and had in fact been on campus a couple of times. You shouldn’t have needed to explain it.

Chris gave you a wry look. “Sure. You really have a boyfriend, or are you just trying to let me down easy?”

You almost gaped at the man’s audacity. Instead, your lips pressed together, and your head tilted as you stared at him incredulously.

“Does it matter?” you asked.

He blinked. “Uh, what?”

“Whatever I say next, are you going to believe it?” You finished dumping in a couple of tiny creamer cups into your likely lukewarm coffee, and you took the styrofoam cup to-go. “Good luck with the freshmen.”

You slid past him and left the teacher’s lounge. Your path took you, brusquely and irritated, back to your office. You couldn’t help but replay every bit of your interactions with Goldstein, and then Chris, in your mind like a bad movie.

Jesus Christ. If I have to deal with one more idiotic man today, I swear—

Speak of the devil, and he appears.

There was a man leaning against your office door, his hands in the pocks of his jeans. He looked up at your approach, and he smiled.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

This time, you paused…and you smiled too. There he was in all his rugged glory. Russell Shaw.

You dumped your coffee in a nearby trashcan and hastened over as quickly as you could in your skirt and heels. Russell bent down to sweep you up into his arms, and you leaned up on your toes so you could wrap yours around his shoulders. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling the familiar mix of his cologne and spicy soap.

“Missed you too,” he said, a deep rumble. It washed over you pleasantly.

“I thought you weren’t getting home until sometime next week,” you said, trying to work past the thick well of emotion in your throat. Maybe he heard it in your voice anyway, because Russell soothed a hand over your hair and pressed a kiss near your ear.

“Got finished up early,” he said, with that familiar grin of his. You could hear it in his voice.

You slipped your fingers through his long dark hair. Then you leaned back enough to see his face.

“How’d you know I wasn’t in class?” you asked.

He raised his hand off your back to point up at the sign on your door. It displayed your office hours and the times you were in class. He shot you a wink.

“I might’ve called Dory too,” he said. “She invited us over for dinner tonight. I said we’d be there around seven.”

You tsked and smack his chest, making him flinch.

“Hey!” he protested with a laugh.

“Don’t agree to stuff without me! Now we’re going to be out all night the day you get back,” you said in annoyance.

Russell smoothed down your proverbial feathers, namely by slipping his hands down your back and comfortably settling on your waist.

“Now, come on,” he cajoled. “Need I remind you that she’s my sister, and your best friend, by the way?”

You waved a playfully dismissive hand.

“I know damn well, but I’m also selfish,” you said. You gripped the edges of his familiar green jacket and tugged him closer again. “I want you all to myself tonight.”

Russell’s grin kicked up into high gear. “Oh, yeah? What for?”

You smiled and leaned up on your toes again, your lips approaching his.

“I’m gonna—”

“Hey, Professor!”

Just then, one of your students walked by with a gaggle of her friends. She gave you a little wave, and then an amused look when she noted how you and Russell were intertwined. You quickly set your heels back on the ground and dropped your hands from him.

“Oh shit. Prof’s got game,” one of her friends whispered.

“Yeah, a lumberjack,” she replied.

“Hell, I’d climb him.”

The girls giggled quietly as they continued to make their way down the hall.

Your hand rose to cover your mouth while your face burned hot in embarrassment. Russell, damn him, was smirking like the Cheshire cat. You shot him a little glare.

“Shut up,” you said.

He chuckled, and he allowed you to take his hand and lead him into your office. He closed the door for you, but that was where the chivalry ended.

He hooked his arm around your waist and brought you flush against him. A stunned yelp escaped you. You grabbed onto his arms on reflex, craning your face up to meet him. A smile played on your lips, before he captured them in a kiss filled with heat, and the torture of longing, only broken by your shared relief.

You had the presence of mind to reach behind him and lock the door. Russell took that as an invitation to back you up against your desk, knocking down a carton of pens in his wake. You held his bearded face and gave him as much as he asked for. Until the pace of his kisses eventually slowed and warmed into something more tender, with the brush of his hand against your cheek. You smiled a little against his lips.

He ended up being the first to pull away. His thumb brushed your chin next, and then your thoroughly kissed bottom lip.

“God, I missed you,” he said. You saw the sincerity in his eyes, all the heat and play and teasing aside.

“Me too, baby,” you replied, and your voice was heavy with the truth of it. You slid your hands down his arms. Suddenly you remembered your internal checklist for whenever he came home. “You okay? No hospital stays or checkups needed?”

Your hands continued their perusal over his chest and down his sides. Russell took your hands and un-busied them.

“Completely fine. Everything went off without a hitch,” he said.

You eyed him more warily. After a moment to try and discern if he was downplaying for your sake, you were able to take him at his word. For now. It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to hide an injury from you. You intended to complete a further examination later tonight. You smirked a little at the thought.

“Okay, I’ve just got one more class in a few minutes. Then I can get out of here,” you said.

“All right,” he nodded. “I’ll meet you at home then.”

Your smile turned cheeky. You flattened your palms down his chest, plucking at the edges of his jacket.

“Yeah? You gonna be waiting pretty for me?” you teased.

“You bet,” he agreed. He leaned in close to say lowly in your ear, “But not as pretty as you’re gonna be when I get you all laid out for me. Get myself reacquainted with every sweet part of you.”

“Oh, really?” you said, trying to taper your blush. There was something entirely wrong and right about him talking dirty to you in your own office. You grinned as he began to press tantalizing kisses down your neck. “I guess I’m going to be the appetizer tonight.”

His chuckle resounded in your ears. Russell squeezed your hips and brushed his lips against your skin. Damn him, he knew exactly what he was doing, making small volts of electricity zip down your spine. Warmth plumed between your legs as his beard gently rasped along your neck.

“Sweetheart, you’re the whole damn meal,” he said, in that voice of his, smooth and baritone and perfect.

Your blush intensified, even as your smile couldn’t help but brighten at his words. He nipped just under your ear, earning a stifled whimper from you.

“Are you trying to get us in trouble?” you whispered.

“Hey, I don’t work here,” he teased. His lips never left your skin. “I just reap the benefits.”

You fought against the urge to pinch his side. You grabbed your phone from your desk and checked the time. Shit. Almost 5:00 p.m.

All the while, Russell continued to torture you. His hands were no better than his mouth, caressing a path from your waist to your hips, then squeezing your ass as he pressed you more fully against him. He hummed against your neck.

“Oh, please don’t do this to me,” you whined, even as you clung to the front of his jacket and pressed your forehead into his shoulder. “I have to get to class in like, five minutes.”

“I’ve accomplished quite a lot in five minutes,” Russell said. His nibbling along the shell of your ear was all too distracting as you laughed.

“Oh, I know,” you dryly replied. “But if I let you get your hands on me now, I’m most certainly not going to be able to lecture on the ancient civilization of Mesopotamia.”

His smile grew. “I like it when you talk nerdy to me.”

Your laugh turned into a giggle. Still, your duty to your students won out. You had to press a gentle hand against his chest to push him back.

Russell let out a long-suffering groan, but he pulled away from you without losing his smile. He tucked an errant strand of hair behind your ear and caressed your cheek.

“I’ll see you at home,” he said.

You agreed, though when he aimed to leave, you couldn’t resist the urge to smack his ass on his way out of your office.

He stopped short and twisted back, pointing a knowing finger at you.

“You don’t play fair, missy,” he said.

You smirked and tossed a kiss at him.

“See you later,” you said.

You loved Dory. You really did. But after a day like today, you were happy to finally be home after dinner at your best friend’s house. You were happy to be where you were in this moment, lying in bed with Russell, wearing nothing but one of his old shirts as Speed played on the TV against the wall.

“You didn’t leave me…I can’t believe it. You didn’t leave me,” you quoted along with Annie, Sandra Bullock’s character.

“Didn’t have anywhere to be just then,” Jack (the beautiful Keanu Reeves) said on the screen. The couple shared a kiss, and you let out a happy hum, making Russell look down on you in bemusement. He had an arm wrapped around you as you laid tucked against his side.

“I have to warn you,” you said for Jack. “I’ve heard relationships based on intense experiences never work.”

“Okay,” Annie (and you) replied. “We’ll have to base it on sex then.”

Jack smiled. “Whatever you say, ma’am.”

As the movie came to an end, you sighed and lowered the volume as the credits rolled.

“How’d you like it?” you asked.

“Was good! Even though my movie buddy decided to quote half the cast,” Russell quipped. He prodded at your side like a pianist playing a Mozart cantata, making you flinch with a squawk of laughter. You grabbed his hand to try and stop him.

When he finally let up, you sighed and caught your breath, leaning against him again.

“I still can’t believe you’ve never seen that movie,” you said. “Practically any movie, for that matter.”

“Hey, I’ve seen stuff…it’s just, you know, we didn’t really have much access to pop culture growing up,” Russell said.

You sobered up; you were reminded that he didn’t have a normal childhood, even less so than yours.

“That’s okay,” you said, resting a comforting hand on his chest. “I’m gonna keep helping you catch up, long as you want me to.”

Russell smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I appreciate that.”

You closed your eyes in content.

“So,” Russell said, interrupting your peace. You heard the mischief in his voice before he even said anything else. “Am I gonna have to knock this Beaufort guy on his ass, or you got that one covered, slugger?”

You huffed in amusement.

“Belmont,” you corrected, opening your eyes again to shoot him a wry glance. “And there won’t be any ass-kicking needed on that one. Just a typical hard-headed man with a slighted ego.”

“Oof, cut him some slack, baby. You’re a hard one to let go of,” Russell teased. You smiled.

“Hey. Don’t butter me up unless you intend to do something about it.”

“Oh, my apologies,” he said. He turned over and waylaid you with kisses along your jaw, then down the column of your throat, and further still, until he met the edge of your shirt. You felt his hands move under the hem of it, slowly bunching up the material as they slid up your body.

Your first coming together when you two got home tonight was fraught, and a bit wild—the kind that nearly broke your headboard (again).

Now, Russell seemed to want to take his time. He guided your shirt up, inch by inch as his lips explored whatever small expanse he bared, from the soft skin of your stomach, to the swell of your breasts. He stopped there, laying a sweet kiss in between them. You watched him with deeper breaths, but you softened when he turned his smile up at you. You saw nothing but affection in his eyes.

“You know, the best part of my day is coming home to you,” he said.

You had to blink past the sting in your eyes, and swallow past another lump of emotion in your throat as you reached down to caress his cheek.

The hardest part of mine is watching you leave.

But you didn’t dare say that. You just guided him back up to your lips, and met him with a heated kiss.

You were nearly asleep when Russell finally came back to bed, after double-checking that the house was all locked up. He installed a more sophisticated security system a few months ago. It made him feel slightly better about leaving you alone.

He padded back over to the bed and joined you on his side. You rested your head on his shoulder again, and he slid an arm around your waist.

“Charlie’s doing well in his program, huh?” Russell asked.

You’d been talking about your brother with him and Dory at dinner.

You nodded. “Looks like it… God, I’m so proud of him. He’s really worked hard.”

Russell hummed deeply. “Glad to hear it.”

You glanced up at him, for a moment admiring his profile. He looked down and met your gaze.

“How long are you going to be home?” you asked, because you couldn’t stop yourself.

When you and Russell first started dating, he tried staying at a motel for a few weeks. You eventually invited him to just stay with you when he was in town. It made it easier to spend more time with him, since you worked a full-time schedule anyway. It was nice to come home to him, when he was here. After the surprise wore off, however, the fear always returned.

When is he leaving next?

“I don’t have another job lined up just yet,” Russell admitted. “Wanna take a couple weeks off, since this one lasted so long. I’m sorry about that.”

You were glad to hear it, so you nodded, but you had a feeling your true thoughts weren’t as well hidden as you intended. Russell searched your face.

“How’re you doing with all this?” he asked.

Your heart seized up, but you tried to play it off.

“What do you mean? We had some good food, good catching up on ‘90s movie magic, good making up for lost time,” you said playfully. You slid your leg across his lap. Russell welcomed you, drawing a hand up your thigh and under his shirt that once again hung loosely from your body. You had to reclaim it from somewhere between the sheets.

He still raised his brows at you. “You know what I mean.”

Slowly, your smile fell. Your gaze lowered.

“Russ, I’m doing my best.”

“I know you are, sweetheart, and I appreciate that. You don’t know how much,” he said, stroking your back. “I just, uh…I know this is hard on you.”

He understood Tracy, Doug’s wife, even better now. He had been better able to sympathize with Doug too, because for the first time in his life, he had someone to come home to. Someone who was actually waiting on him to come home. It was a bigger responsibility than he thought it would be.

You sighed.

“Look, I’m not going to lie, this…it’s been hard as hell,” you began, closing your hand around his. “But I love you. I love you, and I still think we have a good thing here.”

That warmed him, reminded him why this was worth it. Russell nodded in agreement, and he crossed the few inches of distance that allowed him to kiss you, good and slow.

“I love you too,” he admitted. He could count on half a hand the number of times that happened in his life, but even though it hadn’t been all that long…he thought you might be the one that finally stuck.

Your pretty smile was just one piece of evidence. You gave that to him, and you reached up for a kiss. He obliged you in turn.

“How about we put a timeframe on it then,” he said, after parting softly from you.

You tilted your head in confusion, tinged with disbelief. “What?”

“How about you give me…’til the end of the year,” he said. “I know I’ve been taking a lot of jobs lately. It’s because I’m pretty close to my goal. I’ve almost got enough to find some good real estate and start working on that bar.”

Your drowsiness fell away completely as your excitement grew for him.

“Oh my God. Russ, that’s amazing!”

Your support softened him that much more, deepening his smile. He framed your face with a hand and stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“Here’s a promise,” he said. “Six months, and no more missions. No more jobs. You’ll be stuck with me, so much that you’ll probably get sick of me.”

Your smile grew to radiant proportions.

“Hmm, maybe a little,” you teased, “but I’ll make that sacrifice.”

He grinned and drew you into another kiss. You paused, holding his bearded cheek.

“Thank you,” you said. Russell shook his head.

“Aw, sweetheart,” he said. “You never gotta thank me for that.”

AN: Let me know if you enjoyed this little addition to ESC! 💜

Bonus Drabble:

After watching 2x02 yesterday, it gave me...feelings lol. So I ended up writing a new (very smutty) drabble to fill in a small gap in this one-shot! It's called More of This:

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs. (18+)

▶️ Keep Reading: More of This

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neowinestainedress · 1 year ago

Text

𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐃𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: any nct member!ghostface x detective!fem!reader 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: “horror”, thriller, yandere-ish, smut, halloween special, scream!au 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: in these past months your only goal is to find the killer that is terrorizing the town of Woodsboro, but when you get close to him and feel like you finally have the upper hand, Ghostface turns the game around again. Or, Ghostface wants to play with you but not like he does with his victims, and you let him. 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: dark content, talks of [m*rders, sl!tting throats, v!olent stuff in general], dr*g/anaesthetic use [to make mc fall asleep but unrelated to any sexu*l act (she’s awake and willing)], mentions of [dubcon] phone s*x + masturbation, implied stalking, use of restrainers, cl!t rubbing, rough t!t/n!pple play, protected s*x turns unprotected, kn!fe play, ‘fear’ play, clothes cutting, fake sympathy, pet names used in a mocking way, degradation, rough s*x, hair pulling, spit (1), p*ssy slapping, dacryphilia, possessiveness, 1 brief talk of carving, polaroids pictures, all consensual but i’ll still put a dubcon warning just to be safe (tbh it’s more like hate sex bc the mc would rip his head off but also fuck him), reader is kinda fucked up herself. | inclusivity notes: reader has hair long enough that can be pulled (no mention of texture, type and color), no mention of body type but reader is manhandled a few times and has b**bs and *ss big enough that can be cupped, no mention of skin color, no use of y/n 𝐖𝐂: 10.662k 𝐀/𝐍: this year i had vague ideas for halloween but not even a defined good one, i had some suggestions i liked but were far too complicated, and i had no energy to write them in time. but a ghostface/scream au was an idea i had in mind for some time, the original was a ghostface cosplay, but then i went with this one, and I’m happy with how it turned out. i had 2 members in mind (johnny/haechan) for the og plot, then someone suggested jeno and jisung (as a duo) but if i unmasked him the plot wouldn’t have made sense anymore, so he’s whoever you want him to be! the other ghostface is mentioned but doesn’t appear physically in the story, you can pick who you want for him too. i never wrote blankly for the male mc so let me know if it was good. please, if you like it, leave feedback through reblogs or asks! and also let me know who you imagined behind the mask 👀 enjoy and happy halloween

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐄.

Your mother always told you to mind your business or else your curiosity was going to be the death of you one day.

It’s clear you never treasured her words, and your curiosity led you to be a private detective with only a few thrills in your life since now, nothing too exciting ever happened in your small town, until one day you received a phone call from the district of Woodsboro. A string of murders was terrorizing the town after years and all the evidence led to another psycho who thought it was funnier to kill people while putting on a Ghostface mask.

Months have passed since that call and you have nothing concrete. It’s like he’s only messing up with you and, in the meantime, innocent people keep dying. But you have your theories, the ones you only keep to yourself, stored away in the privacy of your diary, hidden under the pillow of your bed. Your colleagues seem decent people, but with time, you’ve learned to trust nobody.

And your secret theories led you right where you are now. In the open country, away from the small town, where a small barn grabbed your attention the first time you moved to Woodsboro.

The barn seems empty but eerie vibes surround it. The strong smell of the grass stings your nose as your black boots walk on the muddy ground, the rain of this morning still lingering in the air and in the countryside.

When you reach the perimeter, you squeeze your eyes to see inside, but the few tiny windows don’t allow you a big view. The more you walk around it to make sure it’s empty, the more the hold on your concealed carry with the gun inside tightens.

It’s late October and the cold penetrates your brown leather jacket, but the temperature is not the thing that makes you shiver.

You should’ve never followed your instinct and come here alone. You should’ve spoken to somebody else in the department, told them your theory and have some backup in this crazy plan of yours. But when your impulses take over, your smartness slips away, and you find yourself in the worst situations ever.

Like right now. You stand in front of the wooden door and find the courage to push it open. You should feel thrilled, you found him. You found the psycho that has been haunting the town for months now, messing up with you with clues and mocks that pushed you farther away from the right path. Yet, you beat him, for once it looks like you have the upper hand now that you’re walking around the empty barn away from the town. But something doesn’t feel right, your guts are telling you something but you don’t listen, you can’t walk away now that you’re so close.

There’s not much to inspect, a few pieces of furniture, a disheveled mattress in the middle of the room, and a few chairs in a corner. It almost looks like an abandoned farm if only it wasn’t for the unnerving vibes that carries with it and for two walls that call your attention. On the right, there’s a map of Woodsboro, pins linked by a red thread, connecting all the places where Ghostface hit in these past months. Your hand quickly reaches the back of your pocket to pull out your phone and snap a picture, hoping there will also be places he didn’t go, and this time you can be faster at stopping him.

What’s on the other side is worse.

“What the fuck…” you mumble under your breath as you step closer to the wall. Polaroid pictures hanging from it, Ghostface and the victims, you guess, moments before they were brutally killed. You’re not surprised, one of the gifts he would leave on the scene of the crime being Polaroids, but they didn’t make much sense. “He’s a fucking psycho,” you scoff as you take another picture.

“Surpriiise!!”

Your phone falls on the floor with a loud thud and your heart jumps in your throat when his voice breaks the deafening silence in the room, but your reflections are swift enough to make you reach for your gun and turn around, shooting.

“Boo, fail,” Ghostface laughs, hitting your wrist hard enough to make the gun fall on the floor next to your phone. “You’re really not as smart as I thought you were, don’t you know intruding on someone else’s property is illegal?” he points out, pushing your body against the wall, the sharp blade of his knife grazing the skin of your neck.

You try to keep calm, deep slow breaths as you try to don’t look scared for your life. You might die today, but you won’t give him that satisfaction.

“Don’t look so frightened, my dear. I’m quite happy to have you all to myself,” he chuckles, his hand lifts to caress your face and you struggle to avoid it, but the click of his tongue makes you stop. “I wouldn’t act too careless, it’s sharp.”

You stop moving. You are smart, and you can get yourself out of this situation. “Do you want to play a game, Ghostface?” You ask, ignoring his taunts, the irony in your voice is clear, just like it’s blatant in the slow bat of your eyelashes, but your words only make him laugh.

“Oh, that’s not how it works, detective. That’s my line. You didn’t study the script?”

You scoff, trying to take time to free yourself. “We’re switching roles. Do you want to play a game? It’s called you turn yourself in and I put you in jail.”

He snickers, and his head tilts to have a better look at your face. He’s had many people in this position before and never saw so little fear in their eyes. “Now you want to act like you don’t love the chase?”

“Fuck you, I don’t love it,” you spit out, narrowing your eyes, desperately trying to get a glimpse of anything under the mask. Another failed attempt.

He laughs darkly, so deep it hits you to the core and makes you shiver — in fear or excitement, you’ll let this decide to your better judgment. “I know you do,” he coos as his thumb covered with the black glove caresses your lips. “Enjoy the little clues I leave you around? You were interested in the pictures, I knew you loved them, that’s why you get the prettiest ones. I tell you so much, but you don’t understand me,” his voice is calm, scarily calm, and full of sarcasm filled with a sweetness that feels like a slap across your face. “I was a bit mad it took you so long to find me.”

Rage shoots up inside of you, but you instantly push it down, you can’t lose your composure. “So, what are you going to do, kill me?” Your voice drops of a tone, and your eyes turn into a teasing gaze, making him chuckle.

“Talking about death so nonchalantly with me, mmh… are you brave or dumb? Because if you ask so nicely, I just might let the knife sink in.”

You laugh lightheartedly, putting up the best performance of your life before your eyes flutter seducingly at him. “No, please don’t kill me Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel,” you coo, lips in a pout and innocence in your eyes, until you hit him with a swift, strong kick between his legs, the distraction of your performance giving you time to slip to the side, causing just a bit of your skin to cut and bleed.

“Bitch,” he mutters under his breath as he kneels to the ground. You reach for your gun, but barely have time to grab it before he pushes you on the floor again. “We were having so much fun, you just have to ruin everything.”

You’re waiting for the worst when he traps you on the floor with his body on yours, but his arms don’t lift to stab you in your chest or stomach, the last thing you see before passing out is his hand lifting in the air and the sting of a needle pushing past your skin.

The white light of the room feels like staring directly at the sun when your eyes blink repeatedly as you try to come back to earth and push away the hammering of your headache. You groan hoarsely, trying to adjust to the light, but the biggest discomfort comes from your shoulders, pushed behind your back and around the chair you’re now sitting on.

“Sorry, I had to tie you up, but you’re a bit feisty today. Didn’t want you to get hurt,” Ghostface replies to your silent questions — not so silent, considering how loud you’re groaning and struggling on the chair, trying to break free. He’s standing in front of you, but a chair is right behind him so you guess he was sitting there before you woke up.

“You can’t even take one down without a fight? Need to kill me without breaking a sweat?” You taunt, eyes dark and a deep frown on your forehead.

But your teasing seems to leave him unfazed as he walks toward you with a glass in hand. “Drink.”

You scoff, staring at him. You hate that you can’t see him, not even because you want to find out who’s hiding under there, but also because you feel like you can’t confront him well enough. “You think I’m so stupid to accept a drink from a psycho?”

His head rolls back followed by an annoyed sigh as he stops right in front of you. His black boots bumping against yours. “You know that’s not how I move, no fun in killing with these shortcuts. Drink. I would never want you to pass out here,” he coos while his free hand pushes your hair out of your face. You can’t see behind the mask, but you know he has a shit-eating grin on his face. He moves the glass to your lips, but you turn to the side, he doesn’t give you a choice when he strongly grips your chin, pushing your lips open, and forces the water down your throat. “Oops, it spilled all over, you’re so messy, detective,” he snickers when water drips on your chin and shirt. As if he didn’t do it on purpose.

“Asshole,” you mutter, eyes closing into fissures while you look at him. His head tilts, “Oh, brave. I could slit your throat right now, add you to the collection.”

You chuckle darkly, shaking your head. “You won’t,” you say firmly. “You’ve never had someone quite as fun as me.”

A low laughter escapes from the mask. “So, you are at least a bit smart?” His hand places on your thigh and you try to move away, but the chair screeches on the floor, and his hold only tightens.

“Don’t play games now. Don’t fake it,” he groans, hand moving up on your blue jeans. “You enjoyed our last conversation,” he whispers, the mask close to your face, so close you can almost see his eyes behind the blackness of the two holes. “Had shivers run down your back when the phone rang in the middle of the night, haven’t you? You sat up straight in your big bed, all alone, and felt fear take over. Never answer unknown numbers. That’s what they say, that’s what you say, running around town, warning everyone about me,” he laughs deeply. “And then look at you, picking up that phone call, eager to hear my voice on the other side.”

“You’re a psycho,” you spit out, struggling against the restrainers. But once again it is an act; he is a psycho, but you are starting to fear you aren’t much different.

He chuckles darkly. “Oh, I am, never denied that. But don’t act better than me. You stood right in front of that window, stripping for me, touching yourself for me, moaning for me. How fucked up that is?” He snickers. “You have fucked up fantasies, my pretty detective, but I’m not one to judge. I’d gladly help.”

You laugh quietly, trying to look confident but it comes out shaky from your throat, “If you want to help, take the mask off and show me who you are.”

“Wow, wow, darling. Not so soon, I’m not one to burn stages in a relationship. What next? Want to meet my mom?”

You inhale sharply, and spit on him, “God, you’re insane.” Your eyes snap open when he pulls out of his back the sharp knife, your breath is stuck in your throat and fear runs all over your body. And once again you regret how impulsive you are. You did well all these past years of training and then on the first real-life experiences at pushing this side of you in the cage, but it looks like it’s coming out like a beast that’s been trapped too long.

“Don’t be so scared,” he huffs, the fake sympathy in his voice should make you mad but it triggers something else inside of you, and you hate to admit that he might be right, you’re enjoying this more than you should, you’re enjoying this entire chase more than you should. It’s like a game, but it’s not when real people are dying. “I would never hurt you,” his voice is raspy, slightly muffled by the ghost mask he’s wearing, and the knife sits on your sternum. “I hope you didn’t like this shirt too much, detective.”

You don’t have time to react, the steel cuts your shirt neatly, the sound bouncing in the small room and the sharp tip brushing your skin. You shiver, gulping hard and closing your eyes, already feeling the sensation of it cutting through you, but it doesn’t happen.

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head disappointingly. “You truly don’t trust me. I’m offended, and I don’t like when people offend me. Just like I don’t like when they hang up the phone while we’re playing. If people were respectful, I wouldn’t have to kill them, you know?” You stare at him with a furrow on your face, you’d like to take the mask off and see his eyes, not really to find out who’s hiding underneath that mask, but to see if his gaze is as insane as you imagine it to be.

“Let me go,” you say, the skin of your wrist bruised from the pressure you’re applying against the ropes.

“Don’t struggle too much, it turns me on,” he warns, kneeling at your level. He smiles softly and thinks it’s a pity you can’t see it, you’re just so pretty, with your beautiful face filled with different emotions and your eyes looking at him with a gaze that wants to be threatening but it’s all the opposite, almost making you look like a lost puppy.

“Why?”

“Why? It’s funny to see the victim beg for their life, it makes you feel powerful, you could show mercy, but you don’t,” the smug smile on his hidden face can be heard in his voice and you shiver at how cold he sounds, the shrug of his shoulder is just the cherry on top to his unhinged behaviour.

“So, you’re just going to keep me here?”

“No, I want to play with you. Do you want to play a game, detective?”

Your gaze falls on your thighs where his hand is placed again, the black gloves preventing it from leaving traces behind, as it slowly moves closer to your heat.

You snicker, pretending to play it cool, but your breath twitches at the contact. “’Cause if I said no you would stop?”

“Hey, I’m a killer, not a rapist,” he defends, shrugging. Yet, you still don’t reply, and he doesn’t like that. “So? I’m not so patient when I ask people if they want to play with me, so don’t test me.”

You swallow hard, swiftly looking around to see if you can pull a move on him. Damnit, it’s your chance to get him and throw him in jail but instead, you’re seriously thinking about his proposal. You fool yourself that you’re only doing this because maybe he could slip, maybe he could say something in the heat of the moment that could give you a clue, or he could leave his traces on you somehow, maybe his mask could fall, but you know you’re feeling something else. Attraction.

“I said,” he mutters, his face comes closer to yours, making you pull back, and the knife pushes flat in the hollow of your chest, “do you want to play a game, detective?”

“Yes, yes, I do,” you mutter, starting to breathe again when he pulls the knife away.

“Good, I love playing with you.” His fingers move to unbutton your jeans and then pull the zip down, you look at him attentively. “Lift your hips for me, love?”

You glare at him at the pet name but he only chuckles deeply. “What? If I’m rough with you, you get mad, if I’m sweet with you, you get mad. I can never win, can I?”

You huff, deciding it’s better to not reply and just do as he says. Your pants are quickly at your ankles and suddenly you feel even more trapped than before now that you can’t even move your legs, but his touch on your naked skin takes you away from that thought.

“Pretty panties just for me?” He coos, tilting his head to the side as he stares at your burgundy panties with the lace trim. “Were you hoping to find me here so we could finish what we started on the phone?”

“Shut up, this is not for you,” you retort, your forehead creasing with a furrow.

“And who is it for?” He asks, cupping your pussy, watching your body shiver. “Oh, no, please don’t tell me there’s a boyfriend I’m not aware of. I’d hate to kill him.”

You bite your lips and keep the contact with the mask, but words struggle to come out when his index finger starts rubbing on your clit, moving from the slit —where you can feel you’re starting to get wet— to your sensitive nub. “It’s not for you,” you repeat, trying to don’t show how much his touch is affecting you.

“Well, you want me to work so hard too, I’ll have to find out on my own if someone is playing with what’s mine,” he replays nonchalantly. “I know where to find you, maybe I’ll come visit again.”

“You talk so much for someone who wants to play so badly,” you retort, a teasing grin curling your lips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know my princess was so eager,” he replies, saccharine voice filled with mockery, before a harsh slap lands on your pussy making you jolt and whimper. “Want my fingers?”

The glare you give him would be enough to kill him; isn’t this pathetic enough? How much more does he want you to humiliate yourself?

He rolls his head back and then the knife is against your neck again. “Do we have to do this every time I ask you a question? Do you want my fingers, detective?”

“Yes,” you whisper. Your body relaxes momentarily before tensing up with excitement again, but it quickly shifts to disappointment. “What are you doing?” You ask when his covered fingers press against you again.

“Oh, you’ll get the gloves too, I’m not dumb, you know? Don’t leave fingerprints on dead bodies, won’t even leave them on yours,” his voice is smug, all the confidence of someone who didn’t make a wrong move and somehow was always ahead of you and the police department.

You hate him. You hate he’s so much better than you at this. And you hate him even more now that he has you fighting whimpers and moans.

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t like this while your hips are bucking up?” He taunts, clicking his tongue in a mock. “Think moaning is more pathetic than humping my fingers like a bitch in heat?”

Your mouth opens to retort but you can’t deny the evidence; your hips are rolling against his hand, chasing for more, your panties are darkening as your wetness leaks through the fabric and your chest is heaving in erratic motions.

“Look at me,” he sings, hand moving up to graze your neck, thumb pressing on your carotid, making your head snap up. “You listen so swiftly when you fear for your life. It’s funny, you know, because I truly would never hurt you.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, trying to pull away from his hold when his hand moves up to caress your jaw. The gentleness of his touch is even scarier than when he has his knife pointed against you. “Is this what turns you on? The fear in their eyes?”

His head tilts to the side, shoulders lifting in a shrug. “Partially. But not in your case, what turns me on with you it’s the chase, and the fact I always win.”

You scoff bitterly, struggling in his hold but his hand quickly grips your chin and pulls you closer. “Didn’t you see the movies? The villain always dies.”

“If the heroine is not busy getting fucked by him,” he mocks, squeezing your face harder and moving his fingers faster on your clit. Your head rolls back and so do your eyes while a chocked moan leaves your lips. “See, I doubt you will shoot me in the head if you keep moaning like this.”

You groan angrily, you’re madder at you than you are at him. You want him and it’s so wrong that you do, but there’s not even a siren ringing in your head, telling you to make this stop.

“No, shh, shh, angel, it’s fine, this will be our little secret,” he whispers to your ear, the mask rubbing against your face, and when your eyes turn to look at him, you can see small dots of blood on the white varnish. “We could play another game: one secret for you, and one secret for me. If you behave, maybe I’ll reveal myself to you, if you promise to keep it to yourself.”

Your teeth sink into your lips harder when he delivers another harsh slap on your clit before resuming his quick movements. “Just — just tell me if I know you,” you mumble. You know he will never reveal himself, but maybe you can get something more, anything to complete the missing pieces of the puzzle.

He chuckles darkly, staring at a spot behind you as he pretends to think. “Mhh, we’ve met.”

You frown and your heart jumps in your throat for a moment at the thought you’ve seen him. “Only met?”

“We talked,” he adds, finally letting go of your face, making you breathe normally again.

Your eyes widen while your brain hurts as you try to quickly connect the dots, and find out who’s hiding underneath the mask, you just have to put a face on a voice — even if distorted, but you can’t. And suddenly realization slumps on you.

“Will it — will it break my heart?”

He snickers under his breath as he looks into your sad eyes, you’re looking at him like a dog when it’s being scolded, but in this case, you’re also silently praying he’s not someone close to you. He has no idea why that would make you feel better, if you care more about Ghostface or whoever is hiding under the mask, but it doesn’t matter, and he mocks you again, mimicking you in a high-pitched voice. “Will it hurt if I was someone close to you? A colleague? A friend? A lover?”

Your breath gets faster. Will it? Would you turn him in or defend him? And you can’t stand you’re even questioning it, of course you’ll turn him in, that’s your job, but most importantly, your duty. But will you? You could be doing it now, and you’re not.

“See? It’s not as funny if you know me,” he laughs at your face, your thoughts so loud he could get a headache. “It’s not as exciting, you love the thrill of this too, more than you like to admit.”

“Fuck,” you curse when his other hand cups your covered breast, it’s a harsh tug and the leather feels weird on your skin, yet, it makes you clasp your thighs and forget what was tormenting your morals, again.

“They’re so perfect, I can’t believe you always keep them hidden under those ugly clothes,” he pouts, giving it another hard squeeze. “Sorry.”

“For what — what the fuck?” You scream when he cuts your bra with the knife, first the middle and then the straps, the matching burgundy bra falling in pieces on the bottom of the chair.

“It was getting in the way, and I don’t like things that get in my way. I cut them off,” in his voice lingers a hysterical laugh that makes you shiver, and in times like this, you’re glad you can’t see his face.

You gulp and automatically close your legs.

“Not you,” he reassures you, forcing your thighs open again with a smack, “you entertain me. And you suck at your job, so it’s clear you also don’t get in the way.”

“I’m good at my job and I will get you and put you behind bars —”

“Uh, uh,” he clicks his tongue, knife under your jaw before you can even finish the sentence, silencing you in an instant. “We were having so much fun, don’t ruin it, babe.”

You swallow and look down following the path he’s tracing with the knife, goosebumps bloom on your skin and you hold your breath when it gets closer to your neck, only releasing it when the blade sits in the hollow of your chest.

“It’s so funny how you shake like a leaf, I’m a professional,” he says, sounding almost offended. And you furrow, is he talking about the knife or his fingers? “Both, love.”

Another groan leaves your lips before he moves the crotch to the side and the cold air of the room hits your burning core. You’ve never been so ashamed your entire life, you shouldn’t be an open book to him, you shouldn’t be so malleable in his hands, it’s pathetic and humiliating.

“You’re so fucking wet. I’m quite pissed I can’t run to the police department and let them know how much I turn you on. I can already see the disappointment on their faces,” he taunts, the slick sound of his gloves against your dripping pussy burns your body in shame and excitement.

“Don’t you dare,” you spit out, but you don’t sound so menacing since your voice breaks, and a pathetically high-pitched moan rolls from your tongue right after.

“I said I’m not going to, I keep my promises,” he kneels to the ground, one hand keeping you spread more and the other is still busy taking care of you. “Maybe if you promise you won’t shoot or put me in handcuffs right away when you’ll find out who I am, I can eat you out. I bet you let out the prettiest moans when you have someone between your legs.”

Your head rolls back, and you hiss. “You wish,” you retort through gritted teeth, but a part of you dies to know what that would be like. “I will never give you the satisfaction.”

He laughs mockingly. “Maybe I should blindfold you and do it now, will you recognize me by that?” At those words your body tenses up, head standing straight again as you look down at him with terror in your eyes. “What?” He asks in a giggle, surprised by your reaction. “You’re fucking with me right now, I still have blood on me. Would that be the most problematic thing? Having fucked with me before? Without this mask?”

“You’re just messing with me,” you mutter but your brain is trying to think, the list of the people you’ve been with is not that long, he can’t be so stupid to out himself like that, right?

“Maybe… I love it when I can see you think,” he whispers. “Usually, you have your hands in your hair, pulling at it even if you just washed it or spent hours styling it, and then you nervously bite your right thumb, somehow there’s always a hangnail to pull until it bleeds, oh, and you also nervously walk back and forth, two steps forward, two steps back. It’s cute, really. You have no fucking clue how to stop this, but you look so into it, chasing after me… well, so you think because, let’s be honest, you’re only chasing after your tail.”

You can’t believe he knows all of this, how close to you is he? And a few names start popping into your mind, but for each face that you see, your only answer is it can’t be.

“Why are you surprised? I told you, I love watching you,” he says, voice scarily soft even through the distortion of the mask. “You’re very pretty, detective. When you work hard to catch me, and even more when you screw it all up to moan for me.”

“Ugh,” you groan through gritted teeth, wrist rubbing against the rope keeping you in place and hips bucking up, anger and pleasure mixing like a drug in your brain. You hate to admit it, but you’re close and you doubt you can push back your climax any longer.

“It’s alright, love, I told you, I won’t judge you,” he hums. He studies your face for a moment, admiring how your teeth trap your lips in the vain attempt to don’t truly show how much you’re enjoying this, but your eyes are filled with lust, lightly glassy, and your cum is painting his gloves white. “Now, will you come for me?”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, your body shutters as the orgasm washes over you, the quick movements of his fingers on your sensitive clit making your nails dig into the palm of your hands while your moans slip out of you freely. Your morality disappears, getting dragged away with the orgasm that consumes you before leaving.

You forget where you are for a moment, or to be more precise, with who you are with, as you let your head roll back, close your eyes and take deep breaths, waiting for the high to pass.

The thing doesn’t bother Ghostface, though, he sees enough fear in people’s eyes, he likes it better when you stop pretending and relax around him. That’s the thrilling thing about you, you are the most entertaining game he has ever played. With all the others he knows how it will end, their lifeless bodies laying in a pool of their own blood and the sirens of the police going off in the background as he blends in with the crowd, but with you? It’s unknown. Like a Russian roulette.

He’d love to shred all your clothes off, but he knows you’d have to spill your guts (not literally) if you walk out of there completely naked, and he’s sure the version you would tell the police would add another crime to his name. So, he takes your shoes off and then pulls your pants down.

Your laugh makes him raise his face and stare at you. “What’s so funny, dollface?”

You shrug, wetting your lips. “You scare me more when you act all sweet, you know?”

He scoffs, standing up again, and caressing your face. “You want me to hurt you so badly. I could carve a heart right here,” he presses the tip of the blade next to your heart, tracing the shape of a heart, causing goosebumps to appear on your skin. “It would look so pretty on you, and you will always carry me with you. Isn’t it nice? Couple goals.”

You raise a brow at him, he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s giving away so much of his personality, even if you don’t find it out now, you’re pretty positive all of this is leading you somewhere. You shake your head quickly, trying not to show how hard you’re thinking about your plan. “I only want one thing from you, and you know what it is.”

He chuckles, leaning next to your ear. “My dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you curse, accidentally kicking him now that your legs are free to move. You suck your breath in, fearing your move, even if involuntary, might piss him off.

He hisses but doesn’t do anything else. “Don’t get all bratty here, doll. You said you wanted to play a game, and we’re going to play it until the end.”

When he cuts your panties and balls them in his fist, saying “keeping them as a souvenir,” with a grin that can be heard in his voice, you only reply with an “asshole.”

Once again, he doesn’t pay your insults any mind, and you wonder why he’s so nice to you. Should you fear it? Will you be his last victim, getting the worst death of them all because he needs to put on a show? “Now I will untie you, if you play any trick on me… you know how it ends.”

You nod quickly, watching him disappear from your view as he stands behind you. You inhale when the knife places against your neck again and roll your eyes back. “You don’t have to do this every time, you know?”

“It turns you on,” he retorts firmly. “And I need to make sure you don’t do any funny business.”

Your eyes roll back again but you try to relax anyway and keep still when your wrists are finally free. Your shoulders are in a more comfortable position again as you subtly roll them to ease up. “Get up,” he orders, and you follow, moving carefully because the blade is still close to your body and you don’t want to end up dead on the floor. “Good, now lay on the mattress.”

Your face twists in disgust when you’re reminded of the mattress on the floor, but he pushes you forward.

“We didn’t kill anybody there.”

You stop, turning around swiftly, and his reflections are rapid enough that he doesn’t push the knife into your chest. “We?”

“Oh… it didn’t click yet…” He laughs darkly at your expression, the whole world falling on your shoulders as you wonder how could you be so stupid to not realize it. “Sorry, love. But hey, aren’t you happy I helped you out?”

You glare at him but then bring your hand to your hair and your thumb to your lips. Of course, there are two of them, that’s the only way they could always be so headed of you.

“Not the right moment to think about that,” he warns, voice dropping lower, making you stop your nervous ticks. “Get on the bed.”

You turn around again, suddenly aware that he’s completely covered and you’re bare. That thought makes you seek the cover of the mattress more, and swiftly you’re laying where he wants you. But it also turns you on, being so exposed to him while he’s giving you not even a peak of who’s under the mask and the clothes send chills down your body and more cum drips out you.

“Promise you’ll be good? We can play cat and mouse later if you want to,” he asks, the blade running flat on your boobs, making him chuckle darkly when your nipples harden at the contact and your hips buck up. “You promise, detective?” He repeats with urge when you don’t reply, too busy watching the knife move on your body as he pins you down.

“Promise,” you reply, looking into the blackness of the eyes of the mask.

He chuckles under the mask, and you watch him unbuckle his pants. You could easily grab the weapon that’s on your stomach and stab him, you could even un-mask him, but you lay still, almost mesmerized. And the conscience inside of you likes to remind you how fucked up you and your morals are, but you brush it off, shaking your head quickly.

“Turn around,” he orders, but you hesitate. That’s too much vulnerability. It’s clear he doesn’t like your hesitation when he groans, grabbing the knife and pushing it aside. “God, I have to do everything with you,” he sighs as he forcefully flips you on your stomach before his legs trap you again. This time you can’t do anything even if you want to, but once again, you don’t want to.

“Fuck,” he moans, hands cupping your full ass and squeezing hard, the firm hold eliciting a moan from you. “Look at you, so fucking pretty. Keep your head down, don’t try to even get a peak,” he warns, and your immediate reaction is to turn around to understand what’s going on, but you know better, so you press your face into the pillow and only when you hear the loud sound of a spit and a glob of saliva drip between your folds you understand what happened. “Not that it was needed, you’re dripping. But you know, I like to get messy at times.”

You turn your face around, resting your head on the pillow, and bite your lips. The smugness and insanity of his voice causing more cum to ooze out of your pussy.

“I want to feel you so bad,” he hums, spreading your cunt, making you feel so exposed, “but will you run to the police? Will you tell them ‘oh no, I had to fuck Mr. Ghostface to have a bit of his DNA and save the town from this psycho’?” he mocks with a high-pitched voice, it doesn’t sound like you at all, more like a hopeless, brain-dead, blonde girl that dies within the first minutes of any horror movie.

You snicker. “You underestimate me, I could say I got those traces from somewhere else.”

“But will you? Also, I’m pretty sure they will find traces of you too. How humiliating would that be? Come on, honey, I won’t blackmail you, but you will screw yourself over? That’s not very smart of you.”

He’s right, you hate that he’s right. You will have to out yourself in the process of trying to turn him in. “I — I won’t.”

Deep down he knows you won’t, there’s no way they won’t trace it back at you too, and he also knows you won’t try to play the victim when you’re not, but he needs to be conscious, one wrong step and you could turn the game around. As much as he likes to mock you, he knows you’re smart and have been close to discovering them a few times, it was a matter of luck, and they were extremely lucky.

“Better safe than in jail,” he chuckles darkly, you don’t even try to peer around, and only listen to the plastic of the condom rip.

You whimper when you feel the tip against your slit, and you hide your face in the pillow as if that could change the reality of what you’re willingly doing. You’re too excited to be so ashamed of your actions, but, even if some may argue your morality is nowhere to be found, it still feels like a big balloon hovering over you.

You shiver when you feel the mask rest on your shoulder, “Nah, ah, angel, no being ashamed now. I told you I don’t like rude people, so don’t be rude and ask me nicely to fuck you.”

The urge to slap him is stronger than anything else, but once again your greed makes him win. “Please… please fuck me.”

“Not what I want to hear, you know what I want. We practiced the other night, haven’t we?” He reminds you, a hand creeping around your neck, holding tight enough to make buzzes of fear run through your bones.

You close your eyes, inhaling as deeply as you can while trying to find the courage to humiliate yourself one last time, but then the words slip out, “Please, fuck me, Ghostface,” and the air gets knocked out of your lungs when he pushes into you. It’s a strong, deep thrust that fills you to the brim and knocks you over. Your head falls against the pillow again while his loud groan fills your ears, “Fuck, it sounds so good from your lips.”

“Oh, fuck,” you curse through gritted teeth when he starts moving right away, barely giving you time to adjust to the feeling, thick dick grazing your insides and strong hands wrapping around your waist tightly.

“Is it too much for you, detective? My sweet little angel can’t take it?”

A groan slips past your lips, you try to stand up on your elbows, but he pushes you down. His body presses against your back and you feel trapped again. “Don’t move. I will fuck you so deep into this mattress that I will feel your scent for days after this. I want your face smashed against the pillow, I want it to be wet with your ruined makeup and tears, got it? ”

You nod quickly, shoulders dropping as you slump against the mattress. His breathing next to your ear makes you shiver, and you wonder if that’s the last thing the non-so-lucky people have met him heard before dying. But you push it away, for the sake of your sanity, you have to fool yourself that you’re not so attracted to a bloody murderer, that your morals are still intact, and that you are a good person.

It’s pathetic how all the anger you feel disappears with each calculated thrust, pleasure getting to your brain so quickly you stop holding back. Soft whimpers and moans roll out of your tongue and unconsciously your ass grinds back into him.

“Fuck, that’s what I want to hear,” he hums, standing up while his hands wrap around your waist. He never wanted to burn those gloves so badly, feeling the urge to feel your burning skin and mark you with his bare hands, but he can’t risk it. That doesn’t mean he can’t leave marks in other ways. One hand leaves your hips and cups your boob, eliciting a broken moan from you. “Have I told you they’re so pretty?”

“Mhh,” you mumble, eyes closing as he pinches down on your nipple. You wish you could say it hurt you but instead, it makes you clench hard around him, cum leaking out more with each pinch on your delicate, sensitive buds.

“Shit, you really are into pain,” he comments, there’s mockery in his voice —like always— but there’s also a genuine surprise. “Who would’ve thought, my innocent detective is way more fucked in the head than I thought.”

“I — I’m not,” you retort, groaning and forcing your eyes open, but the deep chuckle that rumbles in his chest makes you quiver, and your attitude drops in a moment.

“Honey,” he slurs, voice dipped in honey, “you’re letting Ghostface fuck you dumb, you are fucked in the head.”

You shake your head quickly, but he’s had enough of your lies. The rough tug at your hair makes you let out a choked gasp as your head is lifted from the pillow. “I know you better than anyone else, angel,” he groans, mask pressed against your hot face. “I know your dirty, little secrets. I know what runs into that dirty, little mind of yours. You can’t lie to me,” he almost purrs, a low chuckle making shame fire up inside of you, “and I can feel you, princess. Squeezing me, barely allowing me to pull out to fuck back into you. Fuck — I should feel you right now, no stupid rubber between us.”

Another broken moan slips from your lips when he roughly lets go of the hold on you, your fingers clench hard around the thin sheet under you, and your hips jerk up even more. It’s like you want to feel him more, to have him imprint himself deep into you, so far under your skin that you won’t be able to wash him off, and you don’t even know why you feel like this. Why it made you feel like this a week prior too, all the hesitation and fear as you picked up the phone and heard his breathy, distorted voice, flying out of the window the moment he started ordering you around. But was it truly an order when your only hesitation came from the fear of judgement, and you could only feel your body tingle with excitement? Sitting in front of the window, having no idea where he was hiding, putting on a show for the killer you swore you hated and making yourself come the hardest you’ve ever done.

“It makes you feel special, doesn’t it? The way you’re the only exception. The only one I would never hurt.” His voice is lower, hitting you to the core, making your toes curl and your breath falter in your chest. “You’re like a daisy in a garden of bloody, red roses.”

“Please,” you breathe out, choking on your tongue, eyes fluttering open shyly.

“Want me to stop?” He coos, head cocking to the side as he lands a sharp slap on your asscheek that makes you hiccup on a whimper and then another to your boob that drags a louder cry out of you. “Don’t want to hear how special you are?”

But that’s not what you meant. Your pleads were about something else, something you struggle to confess.

A deep laugh resonates in his chest as he looks down at your already wrecked face. You’re so precious, he can’t believe you sometimes think he could hurt you. His prettiest game, his wildest fantasy. The thrill he feels in his bones every time he’s close to you, so, so near to being discovered and yet always safe. It’s exciting, getting to his brain so much he can hardly hide how much it turns him on. But you’ve never been this close before. He dreamed about fucking you, having you pressed under him, begging, moaning and crying as his dick hit deep into your sweet pussy, pounding into you over and over again until you were nothing but mush in his hands. He wanted to strip you down completely and leave nothing of the women he sees and admires every single day. He dreamed of having all this power over you, watching you get weak on your knees and let him do anything he wanted, watching your body convulse in pleasure and your brain empty. And here you are now; wet, fucked-out eyes looking up at him while your pretty, plump mouth opens and closes as your shut-down brain tries hard to find the words.

“Speak up, princess. I don’t like to wait.”

“Please, wa-want to feel you,” you slur in a whisper, eyes blinking lazily as you try to hold onto what’s left of your sanity.

He chuckles, his thrusts coming to a stop that makes you whine in disappointment. “You want me to fuck you raw, detective?”

You hum, nodding slowly, not for the lack of enthusiasm but for the amount of shame that’s looming over you like a tornado. But Ghostface doesn’t like your silences, he doesn’t like it when you hesitate, that’s not what turns him on about you. It’s your impulses, the way you jump into things headfirst without thinking, for some it may be dumb, but to him, it’s just that sprinkle of insane bravery that makes life exciting. Your head is yanked up again with a rough pull of your hair, but his hold quickly moves to your neck. “I thought we were over the phase where I have to drag the words out of your mouth, detective. I’ll ask nicely one last time, do you want me to fuck you raw?”

You swallow your pride and reply meekly, “Ye-yes.”

He chuckles, pulling out of you almost completely before sinking in again with no warning, knocking the air out of your lungs, air that’s already struggling to fill them as his hold on your neck doesn’t loosen up. “See? It wasn’t that hard, was it? Even your stupid brain could put two words together.”

You gasp for air when he finally lets go and your face sinks on the pillow again.

“I’d love to, but I won’t risk it. Maybe next time, maybe if I’ll ever feel like telling you who I am,” he replies, and you groan in disappointment. Not only he doesn’t give you what you want but he also mocks you, reminding you why you’re here and how your mission flushed down the toilet as you let him play you like a violin.

“Then — fuck — please, fuck me harder,” at this point you want him to fuck you so hard your brain will just unplug and your superego can stop nagging at the back of your mind. You don’t want a single thought in your brain, just pleasure and lust.

“That I can give it to you,” he hums happily, and in a second, he complies. His hips start snapping against you at a fast speed, his tip hitting you deep repeatedly as he keeps you arched back with one hand around your waist and the other one wrapped around the makeshift ponytail he made with your hair.

You can already feel the orgasm build up at the tip of your stomach, but it only worsens when Ghostface roughly pulls you flat against him. Your head falls behind on his shoulder, eyes rolled far in your skull as your lips hang open to let out desperate moans and suck in as much air as possible.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he moans, his thumb rubs against your neck and jaw while his right hand squeezes and pulls your boobs hard before pinching the nipples. “Listen to those pretty sounds you make,” he snickers, “and you still want to pretend you’re innocent and pure? You’re fucked up just like me, baby, that’s why I like you so much,” he slurs.

You blink, once again adjusting to the light is uncomfortable but you make out just in time the fact he’s holding a Polaroid camera. “Smile for the camera, babe,” his voice rings in your ears but doesn’t reach your brain and before you know it, you’re coming just like that. The look on your face is not a smile but an expression of blissed pleasure, the exact moment as the climax explodes inside of you, making you clench around his dick and shake in his arms, your arm twisting back, letting your hand claps on his bicep and sink your nail in the thick fabric of the black cloak.

Ghostface would like to say he’s disappointed and scold you for misbehaving, but he can only stare at you with amused disbelief written all over his face. But you only see the constant expression of the mask and once again, you fear for a second he’s mad at you. Truth be told, he could even kill you right now, you wouldn’t mind much or even notice, too lost in the pleasure that’s still looming on your body.

“Fuck,” he mutters, hips slowing down until they stop completely, “you just gifted me the most precious pic in my collection,” he whispers. You feel like the edge of mockery is still persistent but at the same time something genuine lingers in it, it doesn’t make it less creepy, but the ‘fuck me harder method’ worked because you don’t question his, and yours, fucked morality and just smile dumbly.

And that smile, united with the slow bat of your wet eyelashes, is what he needs to lose it.

“Oh, fuck it, I’ll clean you up once we’re done and if you’ll try to turn me in, I’ll find out, so you better keep your promise, alright?”

You don’t get what he’s talking about right away, too fucked out as you lay on the mattress waiting for his next move, but when he pulls out of you and swiftly pulls the condom out, you get it. You bite your lips in anticipation and swing your hips in invitation.

The sight would be enough to make him come right there, and he damns himself because out of all people, you can’t be his biggest weakness. It got to be some fucking joke of destiny. “Will you go to the police?”

“No,” you mumble.

“Good girl, because these little games are just for us, me and you, you can’t use what we do here to help you with your case.” When he sinks inside of you again, he feels like he could lose it all for the way your wet, warm walls wrap around him. “Fuck, fuck,” he curses, voice even more distorted now that he murmurs through gritted teeth, “you feel so fucking good.”

His thrusts now are almost primal, desperately pounding you against the mattress, keeping you pinned down with a hand on the back of your head —not that you need that, you wouldn’t be able to hold your neck up even if you wanted to— and holding for dear life on your hips with the other. You’ll probably have some bruises by the end of the night, if not colored prints on your skin, surely light discomfort at the touch will follow you for a few days. And you almost want to beg him for more, to mark you in some other ways, to leave something just for you to see and carry with you. Sick and perverted thoughts cross your mind, and you push them away swiftly.

You bite down on your lips when his hand leaves your side to torture your nipples again, he can barely push his hand between your body and the mattress, but he has just enough space to play with your sensitive nipples, making them even harder and causing you to clench even more around him. He loves how sensitive you are there and how each rub, pinch, and slap has you easily squirming and moaning under him.

“Look at you, going all dumb on my cock,” he groans, mockingly giving one harsh slap to your tits before his fingers trace your cheek. Your skin is so hot he can almost feel it through the fabric separating you, but what he’s most fascinated about are your tears, black mascara running down your beautiful face, dying on the pillow and your tortured parted lips. “Are you still thinking about being better than me or — fuck — have you finally embraced your dark side?”

Not a word comes out of your mouth when you whimper back, and not even a thought crosses your mind.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he grins smugly. “You know,” he breathes out, head thrown back as it gets harder and harder to contain the orgasm, but he doesn’t want it to end so soon, “you should fire yourself and be my toy, just my toy, every time I need you, everywhere I need you. You’d love that, wouldn’t you? It’d make you feel even more special.”

You mumble a weak reply, it’s a whispered ‘no,’ but your body doesn’t deny how much the thought turns you on. Too many responsibilities in your life and your job, too much to carry daily, but right now? Nothing. Guilt will eat you alive tomorrow but not now. Something feels exciting about being on the run with him, being the one that runs, instead of the one that chases. But it won’t happen, you believe in your job, and you want this slasher to end.

“Cause only I can get you like this, ugh,” he grunts, hips slamming faster but more sloppily against your ass, the vulgar sounds filling up the room. “No man before and no man after will make you come this hard. Nobody, love. No matter how much you’ll want to, they all will disappoint you and you will look for me in every single one of them,” he groans, each word punctuated by a harsh slam of his hips, “well, the lucky ones that will get a taste before I’ll get them and kill them.”

You don’t reply, just lay there, looking like a mess as you try to fight another orgasm because coming again would be humiliating.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” You can hear the grin on his face and his voice has the edge of insanity of the usual. “Let’s be honest, you’ve got a list of shitty partners, you would’ve been grateful if I got rid of some of them.”

“Fuck, just — just fuck me,” you beg, your hand reaching behind to touch him somehow, but he doesn’t like it.

He grips your hand and pins it behind your back bending your arm, you hiss in discomfort, but he doesn’t let go. “Oh, no, angel. You don’t make the rules in this game, I do. If I want to sink into your brain and get so deep into you that I’ll make sure you will never come out the same, I will. I’m the darkest side of yourself, the fucked up filth you’re too afraid to face,” he groans. “And I know you’re close again. Your tight cunt is squeezing me, and you made a mess on the mattress,” he snickers. “Imagine if they find this place, this mattress, your DNA on it,” he stops, leaning next to your ear, voice dropping lower, “or better, imagine if they find us now. What do you say, detective? Would they be disappointed? Would they just jack off at the view? You look so hot right now, I wouldn’t blame them if they’d get off to you, to us together. Kill them surely, blame them not. We’re so hot, detective.”

You squirm under him, feeling like the room is spinning fast and you can’t ground on anything. You have a darker thought in mind, something you can’t confess to him or else he won’t stop mocking you. You want to get caught, but not by your colleagues, by his partner. What would he do if he saw you and his partner in crimes like this? Would he understand this, or would he snap? Maybe even feeling betrayed. Does he even know you and him have been playing this game of attraction for a while now?

Your silence doesn’t make Ghostface suspect anything. You simply look totally fucked out, brain empty as you plead in soft whimpers and moans.

“You sound so fucking good,” he praises. “Why don’t we play another little game, uh?”

Your eyes open in surprise and you hum with no strength, “what?”

“Beg me to save your life,” he says, grabbing the knife again and placing it close to your neck. “Come on, do it for me, I won’t ever hear you say it because I will never want to kill you. Please, detective,” he coos, hips slowing down because your pussy is fogging his brain and he’s not sure his always-perfect aim and reflexes will work right now.

You take a deep breath and then speak. “Please, Ghostface, please, spare my life.”

His head rolls back, and a deep, groggy moan comes out of his lips. “Fuck, yes, keep going,” he orders, hips picking up the rhythm again as he skillfully flips the blade to the lesser sharp side just to be safe.

And you obey. You beg, choked-up words slipping from your lips that soon turn into please, fuck me harder, and then please, wanna come. You feel boneless, your body is too hot, and you feel you might pass out, you need a release and then hope something bigger than you will make you get back on your legs and walk out of there as if nothing happened, as if you never followed your guts and found his —their— safe haven.

“Come for me, love,” he orders, throwing the knife to the side before his hand sneaks under your body to roughly slap your clit a few times, enjoying the louder moans he drags out of you by doing so and watching with pleasure as your body squirms and shakes. “And don’t forget to smile for the camera.”

This time your eyes lock with the polaroid that he points toward your face as his chin rests on your shoulder. But it only lasts for the time of the picture, your body collapses again when he lets go of your hair and you let the pleasure pervade you from head to toe. It’s breathtaking and mind-blowing, and next time you’ll fuck someone else you’ll hate that he’s right. You will feel him everywhere, you will feel his dick deep inside of you every time your fingers will desperately try to take its place, and every time you’ll let someone in your bed, but you don’t hate that thought as you should.

“Fuck,” he groans, giving you a few more pumps to make sure you rode your high before slipping out and then roughly flipping you over. “Close your eyes,” he orders, and you follow with no hesitation —honestly, you were struggling to keep them open in the first place.

Your heaving chest, your parted lips still letting out cries, your wet cheeks, and your trembling closed thighs are the last drop he needs to let go. Deep moans reach your ears while his hot cum drops on your face, most on your skin but some in your mouth, and they get even louder when you shyly swallow it and lick your lips for more.

“Fuck, fuck, you’re —” he gasps but doesn’t finish, holding onto nothing as he empties himself all over your face. “Fuck.”

He feels dizzy, the orgasm still shaking him up, but then he looks at you and has to bite back a moan. The white strings of cum are covering your blissed face, your eyelashes are clumped together by the tears, and your lips are plump and darker, he knows he doesn’t want to forget what you look like right now. “Smile one last time, baby.”

And you do, the corners of your mouth lift and then you hear the click of the polaroid. You think for a second you should’ve told him to don’t take them, he could easily blackmail you, or straight-up get you fired, but once again, you don’t truly care, and you don’t deny how much the idea of those photos turned you on.

You should get up, grab your pants, jacket, shoes and leave. But you feel heavy and tired, you’re still shaking, and your breath didn’t go back to normal, yet.

“Don’t worry, detective,” Ghostface whispers, something passes on your face to clean you from the mess, but you don’t know what, and only then you open them ajar, just to see he’s still wearing his mask. “I’ll take care of you.”

The Ghostface mask is the last thing you see.

When you wake up, you’re in your bed, wearing your nightwear, completely cleaned up, but your bones and muscles are still sore, and a terrible headache is throbbing in the left side of your brain. You turn around, rubbing your eyelids with your palms before you can fully focus on the pillow and see three things on it. The Ghostface mask, a polaroid of you two from before, his face next to yours as he pulled your hair, and a note.

“It was a pleasure playing with you, my pretty detective. Can’t wait to see what our next game will be like♡ ”

general taglist: @froggyforyoongi , @wingsss45 ; @tddyhyck ; @technologyculturedneo

© neowinestaindress; all rights reserved. do NOT repost, modify, or translate any work from this blog on any other platform and claim it as yours. you can find my works on ao3 (neowinestaindress) and wattpad (winestaintedress_; currently inactive).

#nct fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #wayv smut #haechan smut #johnny smut #jaemin smut #jeno smut #jisung smut #jaehyun smut #taeyong smut #yuta smut

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hoonigiris · 4 months ago

Text

JEALOUSY

p. sunghoon x f!reader

0.9k

just silly shenanigans from a chronically jealous guy (he can’t help it he was born this way, just check his birth chart!!!)

“i think i need to lock you up.”

you slide your eyes over to him, exasperated. “what…”

sunghoon mutters under his breath, nodding seriously as he repeats the idea in his head until it sounds more plausible than insane. “yeah…” and then again, softer, “yeah…”

“nurse,” you call out to the empty air, “he’s out again.”

he looks at you gravely, shaking his head. “i think it needs to be done. for the greater good.”

“what am i, rapunzel?”

sunghoon opens his mouth to retort, but the image of you as a princess in that pretty, purple dress has him sidetracked and pondering. “that would be a good couple costume this year—flynn and rapunzel.”

“personally, i was thinking more rapunzel and mother gothel.”

the dreamy look in his eye drops almost immediately, suddenly remembering the reason he burst into the living room in the first place. whatever it was, nothing was worth interrupting you in the middle of a grey’s anatomy episode.

sunghoon moves in front of the tv, feet planted and stance determined. you crane your neck to the side to catch a better look of the screen. “can you move? dr. mcsteamy is in this scene and he’s extra hot this season.”

“wh—listen!”

you roll your eyes, pausing the show. “yes?”

“i’m serious!”

“about mother gothel?”

“about locking you up!”

you tilt your head, innocent. “isn’t that what i just said?”

sunghoon groans loudly, running a hand through his hair and squeezing his eyes shut to fight off an incoming headache. you’d almost feel bad for making his life harder if the threat of imminent captivity wasn’t looming over your head.

but he’s your boyfriend, and he’s obnoxious, and you love him anyway, so you toss the remote on the couch cushion next to you and you give him a smidge of what he wants. you like to call it a pity crumb.

"ok fine, i'll stop teasing," you relent, leaning into the couch with an amused glint in your eye. "why am i under arrest and why is it for the greater good?"

you have some vague idea, of course. any time sunghoon acts like this, the reasoning always lands somewhere around him being jealous, which, as frequent as it comes, is something you’ve learned to take in stride. play dumb, laugh at his antics, give him a kiss, and everything settles back to normal.

the reasoning tended to differ each time, enough to consider creating an encyclopedia page to study from, so you like to make it a game of sorts, to see if you can guess it correctly before he tells you. it’s the closest thing you’ll ever get to the thrill of being on an episode of jeopardy, so you like to relish in the challenge while you can. topic: things that make sunghoon jealous, for 500.

“you’re too…” sunghoon starts, taking you out of your proverbial podium and back to the couch, dr. mcsteamy and mcdreamy blocked behind him. he narrows his eyes, searching for the right word. “unassuming.”

“unassuming,” you repeat, bemused.

"yes." sunghoon knits his brows together, tortured at even the thought. "why else would you have come home with a coffee. from another man."

you look at him quizzically, and then remember how this morning, your classmate who you kept running into every morning at your local cafe offered to buy your drink. you'd accepted, of course; who were you to deny a perfectly innocent gift?

"oh please," you roll your eyes. "he was just being nice! besides, i'm sure he just did it since i helped him finish his lab report on time the other week."

sunghoon frowns. "he was hitting on you. he has motive."

you stare up at him with big, innocent eyes, like a defendant in front of the jury. "how could you ask me to look a gift horse in the mouth... especially when the horse had a cinnamon honey latte."

"because the horse wants to eat you!"

"but it was free!"

sunghoon whips out his phone, tapping a few times, and a ding! sounds from your own phone on the coffee table. you glance over, and try not to laugh.

VENMO sunghoon paid you $6.00 - 😐

"there," he huffs. "if you want free coffee, i'll pay for it from now on, okay?"

you eye him, amused. "if i say yes, will you free me from my predestined shackles?"

he opens his mouth and you can tell by his expression he's about to get started again, so you rescind yourself quickly. "okay, okay. consider it done."

it's sweet, in some way, to have him care this much, even if he makes such a big fuss about it. there's something in his gaze that bleeds earnestness, even through the indignancy, that makes you want to peel him back more. jealousy is an ugly beast, even if you think it looks cute and amusing on him, and often you wonder if it consumes him, if he allows it to lead his thoughts astray.

(it was so easy to fall for you—he couldn’t blame others for doing the same. and if you ended up leaving him for someone else then—well. sunghoon tries to stop it before he gets to that point.)

"hoon," you call gently, and he physically softens at the nickname. you wonder how one word can mean so many things—my love, my heart, my home. all yours. "you know i love you, right?"

he flushes at the sudden confession, ears turning scarlet. and then quietly, sincerely, he mumbles, “i love you too.” perhaps that’s the secret, the reason you can be so flippant about everything, suspiciously free coffee and all.

at the end of the end of the day, you’ll always be his, too.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enha drabbles #enha imagines #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #enha fluff

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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 10 months ago

Text

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.

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