𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. chapter twenty five

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sugar daddy drew

✍︎︎(a/n: the skin color and body shape in the photo above does not represent elle's physical attributes; unfortunately, there are not a lot of POC, nor plus-size/mid-size, models

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✍︎︎
(a/n: the skin color and body shape in the photo above does not represent elle's physical attributes; unfortunately, there are not a lot of POC, nor plus-size/mid-size, models. please imagine her to your liking.)

"wakey-wakey, eggs and bakie," drew shakes elle slowly, trying not to startle her from her sleep. the room smells like maple syrup and crispy bacon, enticing the writer to wake up but not fully convincing her.

"no," she mumbles, digging her face back into the cozy mattress, grabbing her pillow, and throwing it at drew. "let me sleep."

"you slept in already," he laughs at her, catching the pillow before it hits him in the face. "the alarm went off twenty minutes ago."

"what?" she peaks up her head, the bright light of the open hotel window blinding her a bit. squinting, she turns to see drew, dressed in comfort clothes: gray nike sweatpants and a form-fitted black bruce springsteen t-shirt to show off his muscles.

"you look nice," she flirts, winking at him before falling back onto the bed. "just let me sleep through the whole day."

"no, c'mon darling," drew pleads, feeling his neck burn from blushing, "it's our last day. we head back tomorrow."

"ugh," elle groans, pulling off the covers in annoyance. "i hate you."

"you know you love me," drew replies snarkily, his decorated hand pushing back some messy curls before cupping her face and pulling her in for a cherished kiss. elle sighs in contentment, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding, her fingers grasping at his hands as he pulls away. "let's go."

"go where?" she huffs, her stomach grumbling, "i'm hungry."

"i know," he nods, leaning back and grabbing the metal trolley cart that's filled with an assortment of breakfast dishes and desserts. "i got you chocolate chip pancakes from room service."

"you what?" elle asks, smiling softly at the nice gesture, trying to hide the pain from another cramp tearing up her insides. "uh, can you get me my bag? i need to pop an ibuprofen."

"sure, babe," drew says, rolling off the bed, pushing the trolley of food closer to where she is sitting. he walks to her light blue duffle bag, grabbing it and lightly chucking it onto the queen-sized mattress before settling at the nearby desk chair.

"drew," elle says, snaking out her pill bottle and pouring two red pellets into the cup of her hand. "i thought," she plops them into the back of her throat, swallowing the medicine down with some water, "i talked to you about this."

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