A/N: I'm not even gonna pretend I know what's happening with my motivation anymore
C/W: rough sex, spanking, separation anxiety
The bagel tore easily between her fingers and Christine frowned at her plate.
Erik was still set to work, his back turned to her as she sat at the counter, tearing her bagel into pieces and staring at it like it had some sort of answer for her.
"I don't want to go home," she said softly.
He glanced at her with a slight frown as he poured his coffee. "And when do you go home, sweetheart?"
"Tomorrow," she answered, tearing off another piece of the bagel.
"Tomorrow," he agreed, setting his ceramic cup on the counter and looking at her over it. "So why are you worrying about it today?"
"Because I still have to pack up my things," she said, tearing another piece from the bagel. "And I have to be there early and I- I'm just not ready to go yet, Daddy."
He turned his cup on the counter, watching as she tore another piece off of her bagel. "Do you want to call in?" he asked slowly. "I'm sure I can find you another flight. It's not quite twenty four hours yet… how many classes are you okay with missing, sweetheart?"
"I can't miss any of them," she mumbled, dropping the remains of her breakfast on the plate as she frowned. "It's the start of a new semester."
"You would probably like that bagel more if you ate it," he said gently.
"I'm not hungry," she answered, frowning as she rested her chin in her palm.
"You know that's a lie as well as I do," he pointed out, stealing one of the torn pieces from her plate. "You are always particularly famished by breakfast time."
"I'm not hungry," she insisted, pushing the plate away from herself to illustrate her point. "And I don't want to go home."
He pushed the plate gently back toward her. "I've already told you, sweetheart. I will buy you another ticket. What do you want? Another week? A month?"
"You'd get sick of me," she mumbled, finally popping a piece of the bagel in her mouth.
"Never," he answered easily.
She frowned as she chewed. "I'd lose my job."
"Well, you might," he agreed, finally taking a drink from his steaming cup of coffee.
"I know I have to go," she admitted after a moment. "I just don't want to."
"I'm not ready for you to go either, princess," he said softly. "But I don't think a week, or a month, or even a year would help. Do you know why?"
"Why?" she asked, toying with the bread on her plate.
"Because we live in an unfair world where we have to do things like work, and school," he teased gently. "And I would still find ways to miss you, even if you were here all the time."
"But I could still see you at night," she mumbled, shoving another piece of the bagel in her mouth. She didn't feel hungry but he was right. Her stomach grumbled.
"You will, sweetheart," he said, leaning on the counter. "Every single night. I promise. Just like before."
"It's not the same."
He frowned, turning his coffee cup slowly between his fingers. "I know that it isn't," he agreed gently. "Do you know why I got you that stuffed animal?"
"'Cause he was the cutest one at Target," she mumbled.
His laugh was a huff of air. "It is cute," he answered. "But that isn't why I got it for you. I got it for you so that when you went home, and you were just a little too lonely, you would have something to hug when I can't be there."
"Did you really think about that, Daddy?"
"I did," he said with a sad smile. "I know that it can be really hard. And it might feel a little bit like going backwards. But we aren't going backwards, princess. That's why I got you this." He reached out, tracing along the side of the heart pendant that rested just against her collarbone. "Because it is subtle, and pretty, but every time you look in the mirror you can remember that you belong to me, and that I am very serious about that. And you can know that all of this being apart nonsense is only temporary."
"I guess maybe that is it," she admitted, frowning as she chewed another piece of her shredded bagel. "It does feel a little bit backwards."
"Long distance is always hard," he admitted, giving his coffee cup another gentle turn between his fingers. "I think that it's harder with a relationship like this, but it's always hard, princess. It's perfectly normal to feel the way that you do."
"Like I'm scared?" she asked quietly.
He paused, leaning closer on the countertop so that he was eye-level with her. "What are you scared about?"
She looked down at her plate, shoving another chunk of the bagel in her mouth.
She could have told him the truth. That she was scared about going home. That she was scared because for the first time in her life she felt like she could actually breathe and she was pretty sure it was only because he was there. She could have told him that she was scared about panic attacks, about her classes swamping her, about horribly rude customers. She could have told him that she was scared because she had no idea if she would ever actually be able to see him again, because days off were precious and she only had the minimum five dollars left in her bank account that she needed to keep it open.
She could have told him all of it, or even part of it, but instead she just frowned. "I guess it's just that I'm really gonna miss you."
"I'm really gonna miss you too, sweetheart. But do you know what?"
"What?"
"I hate long goodbyes," he said with a sad smile. "So I don't want you to think about it anymore, because we have another whole day to spend together. And I will take care of your luggage, and I will pick out something comfortable for you to wear on the plane, and I will do it tonight, after you fall asleep, so that we don't have to waste a single minute that we have. How does that sound?"
Christine found his warm hand, eyes still closed as she drew it closer, pressing it between her legs.
Neither had managed to even catch their breath yet, and Erik gave a slightly breathless laugh. "If you are going to keep this up I might just have to get the toys out this time," he teased, brushing the pad of his finger just along the side of her clit and watching her lip quiver. "What is it that you need, princess?"
He was leaning half over her and Christine swallowed as she stared up at him.
"Tell me," he murmured, his intense eyes unwavering.
She thought that she might cry, but she swallowed that particular thought down. "I have to go home tomorrow, Daddy," she whispered nervously.
His hand rested, unmoving, against the inside of her leg. "What do you need, princess?" The words were firm but gentle.
Her lip quivered for a whole new reason. "A kiss, please," she said shakily.
He complied easily, pressing his forehead gently to hers. The mask was cool against her skin and she shivered. "That isn't all," he prodded. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."
"I can't," she breathed.
He hummed, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Is it because you are embarrassed?" he murmured, the words warm against her skin.
She was sure that the rush of blood to her face was as much answer as he needed.
His fingers dug, just the slightest bit, against the soft flesh of her thigh. "You don't have to be embarrassed with me," he said, his voice low. "You will learn that if you want something, you only need to ask. I will never tell. What do you need, princess?"
Nervously, she reached for his hand. He let her pull it along easily, fingers dragging lazily against her skin, until she pressed it gently to that space below her belly button. "I have to go home tomorrow, Daddy," she said again, toying with his pinky finger against her skin. "I want to feel you."
"You want to be sore," he murmured.
She almost felt dizzy with the sudden flush in her face. Only he didn't laugh at all; his thumb brushed gently against her skin.
"I can hurt you," he said, the words soft. "But only if that's what you really want. Do you want me to hurt you, princess?"
Christine pressed his hand down a little harder, swallowing hard, and he shifted himself into her line of sight.
"I need you to answer me, sweetheart," he said, his eyes particularly serious. "With words. Do you or do you not want me to hurt you?"
"I do," she admitted in a mumble.
His lips brushed so gently against her forehead that the touch was hardly there at all. "You do what?"
"I want you to hurt me, Daddy," she said shakily.
It was an actual kiss against her forehead this time, his thumb continuing the same gentle pet against her stomach. "That wasn't so hard," he murmured, voice low. "How do you want me to hurt you, sweetheart? Do you only want to hurt here?" he asked slowly, hand pressing just a little harder against her lower stomach. "Do you want bruises? I want you to tell me, princess."
"Bruises," she breathed in an echo.
"Are you telling me or are you thinking?"
She hesitated a moment, feeling the gentle drag of his thumb. "Bruises are okay, Daddy," she decided.
"I will only leave them in places you can hide this time," he murmured. "I'm going to be very rough with you, princess. I need you to promise me that you won't be afraid to use your colors if it gets to be too much."
"Red, yellow, green," she said, staring back up at him.
"I will never be upset with you for using them," he reassured her, hand slipping a little lower. "I will only be upset if you don't when you should have. Do you understand, princess?"
"I understand, Daddy," she answered as confidently as she could. "Will you please kiss me?"
His kiss was warm and slow. His teeth tugged gently on her lower lip and she felt that familiar shiver of anticipation pass through her as two fingers pinched her nipple just a bit too hard. "Roll over. On your stomach," he murmured.
She did, and she felt him moving. He straddled her legs, just over her knees, and she heard him hum. The heels of his warm hands dug against the tense muscle in her back, pushing up slowly.
Christine couldn't hold back her slight moan, and he only chuckled.
"So pretty," he offered, his voice low. His palms dug firmly against her shoulders, working out the almost permanent tension that lived there. "I want you to relax, princess," he continued gently. "I will take very good care of you. Do you know that?"
"I know, Daddy," she breathed, relaxing under the firm pressure of his hands.
"And you will still not let go," he murmured, fingers squeezing at her shoulders. "Close your eyes."
She obeyed, her eyelids fluttering closed under the mesmerizing pressure of his hands against her shoulders.
"There is nothing else," he murmured, leaning lower over her back. "There is only you, and me, and this moment right here. You are safe with me, princess. What do you want?"
"I want to be yours, Daddy," she whispered.
"You want to be mine," he echoed, the words warm. "You are mine, princess. And I am very much yours. Can I tell you what I want?"
"Please."
"I want you to trust me," he murmured, pressing his lips gently to the back of her neck. "I want you to tell me all of those dirty little desires that make you go red, all of those things that you've never dared to confess to anyone. I want you to let go, princess, and trust that I will catch you. That is when I will know that you truly belong to me."
"I do trust you, Daddy," she said softly, blinking her eyes open.
"Then you do not understand trust," he said softly. "Close your eyes, princess. I didn't tell you to open them, did I?"
"No," she breathed, pressing them closed again. "I'm sorry, Daddy."
"I want you to give yourself to me so fully that it's impossible to know where you end and I begin. That is the kind of trust I mean," he murmured, the words soft. "I'm going to spank you, princess. And if you open your eyes again, I'm going to spank you even harder."
His hand was sliding down her back, and Christine practically held her breath.
"Do you want me to spank you, sweetheart?" he asked gently, his fingers digging against the soft flesh of her butt.
She gave a slight nod and he tutted.
"I want you to tell me, princess," he coaxed. "Use your words."
"I want you to spank me, Daddy," she said weakly, her fingers digging against the soft sheets of the bed. "Please."
The first smack was fairly gentle, only enough to make her jolt with the sudden realization that he was entirely serious. What followed was the gentle rub of his palm against her smarting skin. "Good girl," he offered warmly. "I want you to count. Out loud. That was one."
She swallowed. "One," she echoed nervously.
His fingers traced gently, and then there it was again, just the slightest sting.
"Two," she breathed as he rubbed at her stinging skin.
"Good girl," he encouraged her, the words sending a shiver down her spine. "Again?"
"Please, Dadd-" the words ended in a breathless way. This time, it actually hurt a little and she took a slow breath. "Three."
"You have such good manners, sweetheart," he murmured appreciatively, his hand squeezing gently. "Do you want more?"
"Please, Daddy," she whispered, hiding her red face against the pillow. "Harder, please."
"Harder," he echoed, fingers tracing lower now, slipping down the back of her leg. "You're dripping, princess. You should have told me that you liked pain so much earlier."
The next slap rang in her ears for a moment. She heard her own breathless cry as she pushed back against the gentle rub of his hand. "Four," she forced out.
"Five," he said, an edge in his voice as he gave one last, hard slap. "On your knees, princess. Now."
She obeyed, shimmying out from under him to shove her knees under herself.
"Are your eyes still closed, princess?"
"They're still closed," she answered, muffled against the pillow.
He was touching her with both hands now, spreading her open as his own knees forced her legs together. "You are going to suffocate hiding from me, princess," he said, his voice low. "I do not need to see your face to know what a greedy slut you are for me." Two fingers traced down the inside of her leg. "Look at this - still dripping my cum and already begging for more. Tell me, princess."
Christine turned her face, relieved by the cool air against her cheek. "I want to be your whore, Daddy," she breathed, the words coming far more easily than she expected them to.
Another hard slap that made her jolt. "How many?"
"Five," she guessed.
Another, against the other side this time. She clenched her legs together. "Seven now," he murmured. "Pay attention, princess. I told you to count."
"Seven, Daddy," she agreed breathlessly. And with the next, "Eight," she squeaked out.
"I'm going to fuck you," he said, his voice low as his palm smoothed over her tingling skin. "I'm going to fuck you like the little slut that you are, and I want you to keep count. Let go of anything else in that pretty little head of yours. Your only job is to count, princess."
"And ask -"
"No," he said, fingers digging. "Don't ask. If you need to cum, you can. I only want you to worry about counting. Can you do that?"
Another harsh slap. "Nine," she breathed. "I can, Daddy. I'll count."
"And you won't lose count," he murmured.
"I won't lose count," she agreed.
His kiss was pressed just against her lower back. "If you do, I will stop," he said, voice low. "So pay attention, princess."
"Ten," she breathed, and just as the word left her lips he grasped her hips.
"Ah," she gasped as filled her with one hard thrust.
Another slap and she trembled under him.
"Eleven," she breathed as he rocked his hips slowly.
"You're so tight, princess," he murmured, the words almost a moan as he pulled almost all of the way out before rutting himself against her harshly. "I'm going to give it all to you," he warned breathlessly. "You can take it, princess."
His arm wrapped around her waist tightly, and she clenched her teeth as he slid deeper, and deeper still. "Daddy-" she cried breathlessly, feeling a painful stab deep inside of her.
One last, small thrust and she felt his hips tight against hers. "Good girl," he said breathlessly, leaning over her back. "You can take it, princess. I know that you can."
The truth was, until that moment, she hadn't realized how much he was actually holding back. She could already feel a deep ache burrowing in, and she gasped as he rolled his hips against her.
"Color." He was breathless.
"Green," she forced out.
His next slap was lazy, but she still felt the sting of it.
"Twelve," she cried out.
Another thrust, two, his arm wrapped under her and held her firmly in place. "Like a glove," he grunted, his breath warm against her shoulder as he covered her with himself. "You're perfect, Christine."
It hurt. Every hard thrust that he gave sent a stabbing pain straight through her. She was breathless, digging her nails against the sheets as he forced himself deeper than she thought he could go.
The truth was, it was too much. It wasn't enough.
She wanted him to devour her. She wanted to disappear entirely into him, into that painful stab deep inside of her, into his warm breath and his slick skin. In that moment, she thought that she would have happily given him anything at all.
She wanted it to end, and she never wanted it to end. She wanted his gentle kiss; she wanted his hand around her throat. She wanted everything, and she wanted nothing but his moan and gentle praise.
"Erik," she breathed.
And it was just then, as his lips brushed against her shoulder, that she realized he was exactly right. It would all click perfectly into place if she was only brave enough to let it.
"Thirteen," she breathed as his palm connected with the outside of her hip.
There was a strange sort of breathless pain as he pulled out of her, his hand warm and steady against her back. "Good girl," he breathed, thumb stroking gently. "You can open your eyes, princess. I need you on your back. I want to see you."
It took her a moment to obey. She couldn't catch her breath and her bones suddenly felt like they might have turned to jello, but eventually she coaxed herself into obedience, her legs falling to each side of him as she looked directly into his eyes.
"Is it too much?" he asked, looking at her closely as he lazily stroked himself with one hand.
She swallowed and even though she felt that flush come into her cheeks, she forced herself to stare up at him. "It's exactly enough," she managed to say. "I want to be yours, Daddy."
He hummed, his free hand running up her flat stomach. He pinched her nipple gently without ever looking away from her face. "You are very much mine, princess. To do with as I please. Is that it?" he asked gently, tugging at her nipple. "You want to please me?"
"I want to be everything," she confessed in a whisper, and the words came simply and easily. "Like you are to me."
Something in his expression softened as he looked at her, his thumb brushing against her already-hardened nipple gently. "You are absolutely everything to me already," he said just as softly. "Pull your legs up, princess. I want to be as close to you as I can."
So she did, and she had to use her hands to help her, heavy as she felt, hooking them behind her knees to pull them as close to her chest as she could.
She stared up at him as he pressed he way inside of her, refusing to let her eyes close even as she felt her eyelids flutter.
"Let go, princess," he said softly.
So she did, dropping her hands and letting her legs rest against his broad shoulders.
"Such a good girl," he murmured, giving two shallow thrusts before he pushed just a bit harder, eyes on her trembling lip as he bottomed out. He rested there a moment, breath warm against her cheek. "Such a good girl, and all mine," he breathed against her cheek. "Where do you want me to cum, princess?"
"Inside," she answered breathlessly. "Please, Daddy."
"Inside of you," he echoed, the words soft. His kiss was gentle, even as the harsh snap of his hips seemed to threaten to break something inside of her entirely.
She clung to any bit of him that she could, her heels pulling against his shoulders and her nails digging against his arms. It was a funny thing; she wasn't sure if there was such a thing as being close enough. Even buried so deeply inside of her that she was fairly certain something was broken beyond repair, even with his lips against her, even as her nipples dragged against his chest, she wasn't sure that it was close enough at all.
He sped up, his breath a pant against her cheek, and just as she felt him falter, as his breath caught, he sunk his teeth against her collarbone.
It was Christine that cried out with his orgasm, her hand tangling in his hair and her head falling back against the pillow as she felt the pulse of him deep inside of her.
He nearly collapsed on her, catching himself with an elbow as he held himself over her, and for a long moment he stayed just there. They breathed one another's air as she trembled.
He didn't say anything at all; his hand simply slipped down and his touch against her clit was nearly electric.
"Shush," he answered her breathless sound, sliding deeper into her as he rubbed gently, even only half hard. He flinched at the movement, but he did it again anyway, watching her trembling lip.
The orgasm that he coaxed out of her was nearly painful; her sore muscles pulsed around him and she felt tears pricking at her eyes as she gasped.
His hand moved away, bracing against the mattress beside her, and his lips brushed at a tear. "You are everything to me, Christine," he said breathlessly. "I never want you to doubt that."
It was hard to breathe, and it was difficult for her to decide if it simply was or if it was due to the way she was practically folded beneath him. She used her last bit of energy to slip one foot from his shoulder, letting it fall heavily to the mattress, and she was grateful when he grasped her other ankle and dropped it in the same way.
Another kiss to her cheek and he was pulling out of her with a groan, collapsing on his back beside her.
She turned her head to look at him, and he met her eye, his chest heaving. "I may have gotten a bit carried away," he murmured. "Do you need ice, princess?"
"No," she breathed, and then she was rolling into his chest, tucking herself against his side.
He wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight as he caught his breath. "I intended to take you to dinner tonight," he said softly, pulling her closer.
"I want to stay here, Daddy," she said quickly.
His thumb brushed against her side gently. "I'm glad," he answered simply. "I'm not much in the mood to get all dressed up either, princess."
She shifted against his side. "You bit me," she mumbled.
"I did," he chuckled, reaching across himself to tuck her hair behind her ear. "And it should bruise up prettily for you, princess. Did you not like it?"
"It was okay," she admitted, resting her ear against his chest and listening to the steady thump of his heart. "It surprised me was all."
"You've surprised me, too," he admitted quietly, smoothing her tangled hair with his palm as he seemed to think. "Do you still worry that it isn't for you?"
"No," she admitted with an empty laugh. "I think I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be, Daddy."
His touch against her tingling skin made her shiver. "So do I, sweetheart."
The airport wasn't quite as busy as it was the first time. She kept catching the too-long sweatpants under the heel of her shoe but she pulled the sweatshirt against herself tightly. It was warm and comfortable, and while it didn't really smell like him it did smell like his laundry soap and that was good enough for her.
"-is all checked in. Is Meg…" he paused, and his touch on her cheek pulled her back to reality. "Are you listening to me, sweetheart?"
"Sorry," she mumbled, pulling at her sleeve.
"Is Meg meeting you at the airport?"
"Yeah," she answered, balling up her fist in the extra material at the end of her sleeve.
"Good," he said, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I want you to text me and let me know that you made it as soon as you turn your phone on, okay?"
"I will, Daddy," she whispered, her cheeks flushing red.
"Do you want me to wait in the security line with you?" he asked softly. "I can't go through, I don't have a ticket, but I can wait in the line with you. Or we can say goodbye right here. Which one do you think will be easier for you?"
She thought that she really wanted to ask him to take her back to his car. If she tried, she was pretty sure that she could forget that she had a job and classes and bills to pay. "Will you please wait in line with me?"
"Of course I will, princess."
She tugged on his hand nervously. The line was long, but it was moving too fast for her liking. "Are you sure you put the puppy in my bag?" she whispered.
"I'm sure, sweetheart," he answered. "I put him right on top so that you won't have to dig for him."
"Where did I leave him?"
"He was right on your pillow the whole time," he answered patiently.
She tugged at his hand as the line moved forward.
"You're at gate 37A," he said to her as they approached the front. "When you get through security you just need to go to the left. It's the one all the way at the end of the hallway. There's a big blue sign over it."
"I'll find it," she mumbled.
"Well, if you can't, I want you to promise that you'll ask someone," he said firmly. "Any staff member should be able to show you."
"I promise," she breathed, squeezing his hand just a little tighter.
They were only a few people back now, almost at the front of the line, and she wasn't sure if she was actually going to be able to convince herself to let go of his hand.
"I want you to give me a kiss, sweetheart," he said gently.
She did, and she felt him press something against her palm.
She frowned at the ten dollar bill.
"I want you to get some bubble gum. Any kind you like. It will help with your ears," he explained softly. "And then I want you to get something to distract yourself. A magazine or a book or a crossword puzzle - I don't want you to sit up there for two hours alone with your thoughts. Promise me, Christine."
"I promise," she answered nervously.
He tilted her chin up and gave her one last kiss. "I'll call you tonight, princess. I promise."
And just like that, he was gone. She took a slow breath and stepped forward in the line.
What's a five letter word for silly, Daddy? she texted as soon as the plane landed.
Inane. Inept. Trite. Stale. Youth. Nutty. his quick response came.
She looked down at the open crossword puzzle. The answer was stale and she wrote it in the boxes before she responded. That was really fast.
I have Google, sweetheart. Did you land?
I did. I only made it through two puzzles though. I picked the hard book. I didn't know it meant insane.
That's good. It means it kept you busy. Find your friend, princess. Please tell me when you make it home.
"He did not," Meg laughed, and when Christine turned around she was holding the soft dog stuffie up by one ear.
Christine snatched it out of her hand quickly. "Leave him alone," she snapped, holding it tight under her arm.
Meg held up both hands. "I won't touch the dog. Message received."
"Sorry, I just-" Christine frowned, twisting the dog's ear between two fingers. "I'm just a little stressed, I think."
"Yeah," Meg said, frowning as she sat back on her heels and flipped the lid of the suitcase closed. "You sounded really happy when I talked to you, Chris. Did something happen?"
"No," she whispered, tugging on the stuffie's ear. "It was perfect, Meg. He was great."
"Then why do you look like you're gonna cry?"
Christine swallowed around the lump in her throat. "Because it was perfect," she said weakly. "And he was great."
"Oh, good God," Meg sighed, standing up and holding her arms open. "Come here, Chris. Hugs."
Christine went to her, and sniffled against her shoulder.
"Thanks, I can finally chalk 'comfort a friend because the dick they got was too good' off of my bucket list," Meg joked.
Christine sniffed, and she forced out a laugh. It was how Meg liked to deal with everything, cracking silly jokes about it. Usually it worked, at least a little bit, but a pit had settled somewhere near the bottom of her throat and she was pretty sure Meg's jokes weren't gonna be the thing to dislodge it.
"Are you sure nothing happened?" Meg asked softly, giving her a tight squeeze. "He didn't push too much, or maybe creep you out even a little bit? You know that you can tell me if it did. I've always kept your secrets."
"No," Christine said, pulling back with a watery smile. She wiped under her eyes with the side of her hand. "He was really great, Meg. Offered me my own bedroom and he was - patient, and kind and. He's a good cook, and he really listened to me and. We went to his office and it was all so normal and he has a secretary and she's really nice." Christine frowned. "And I keep thinking there must be some deep dark secret because it really does feel too good to be true."
"And what if there was?" Meg asked gently. "And what if it had nothing to do with you at all? Would you still want to know?"
"Wouldn't you?" Christine asked, hugging the stuffed animal tight to her chest. "It's not like it matters anyway. I'll never get another break like that to see him again."
"Is that what you're actually upset about?" Meg asked with a tight smile. "You will, Chris. Because it's important to you. And if it's important to you, and it's important to him, you'll find a way."