#She can blast the fuck out of people with that thing

[idekkkjja]

hi ! can i request ningselle and reader being on stage having sexual tension and making a sex tape after ? thank u !

Savoured memories ✩ˎˊ˗ Ningselle x fem!reader

—> In front of thousands and thousands of fans eagerly cheering your group on, interactions taking place with them, and cameras clicking everywhere at every moment sparing no time to shatter your composure—you knew you had to reign it in. The sudden desire.

Ningning and Giselle acted upon them in public shamelessly, when every chance given their warm and sweat-slicken selves shared so-called ‘affection’ with yours, colliding against them out of nowhere. Their eyes didn’t lie that tonight would be a heated one, entangled fully with their bodies.

Heads-up: strap-on used, subtle degradation, a pet names like puppy, slut, bitch and yeah. 3some, this is my first ever smut with 3 people soz if it’s bad and I wrote this while skipping classes behind trees!! Tell if I forgot to mention anything else.

*** Confidence radiated off them in every concert in the world tour, nearing the last ones, they wanted to make this night more special than the rest. Considering that the next day it would be drowning in much-needed sleep and rest, it might as well be worth it.

Giselle strutted over to you, her hips swaying hypnotically, and drew you in immediately as her arms lazily swung by your shoulders.

A smile plastered on your lips, subtly rhyming to the music blasting off the stage and you sang your lines together with her for the cameras in every corner of the huge stadium. Careful she wouldn’t be too close—not to attract any more buzzing rumors—you leaned away and found yourself in Ningning’s possessive arms unintentionally.

The Japanese woman’s eyes flashed in irritation, her shoulders stiffening at the sudden space now lingering heavily beside her. Reminding her of you picking somebody else instead of her which she does not take nicely.

In a manner disguised as ‘playful’, Giselle went over and snaked her arms around your waist, letting her presence lurk by to remind Ningning of her place. And the latter did not take the hint, too busy caressing your ass, erupting shared giggles between you two as if it was an inside joke limited to the outsiders.

The outsiders may be Giselle.

“Seriously?” She whispered, not in the mood to put on fake smiles now. Her throat tightened. She could be seen as overdramatic, but who could blame her right now?

Frustration was outlined in the crease between her perfectly done eyebrows, her eyes dimming, and the white shine not so bright anymore since the start of the concert.

For weeks now, the two of you have clung onto each other like air. Sure, she had Karina and Winter, although they... they were in their own little bubble. Doing things that God unfortunately knew.

So, she was the one left out, and she wasn't used to it! At all. Behind cameras, she was in a corner, isolated by herself and consumed in her phone screen, desperate for a mindless distraction that would fill the hole forming in her heart witnessing you two love birds shamelessly flirting with each other nearby.

Tonight is when she has had enough.

Finally, when the concert eventually wrapped up, she had the opportunity to confront you and Ningning. The latter knew well that she pined after you like a love-sick puppy since predebut, she supported her for God's sake! Now, that bitch dared to steal you from her? Did Ningning forget that Giselle wasn't the type to brush things off so easily?

During the car ride, in the back, she was squished in the corner again. Swallowed by a seething anger bubbling within her, threatening to overflow and cause chaos. She'd rather let that happen freely behind doors, not in front of their manager.

Luckily, she had to share rooms with the two of you.

The moment the doors gently clicked shut, she raised her voice to a shout, "I got fucking enough of this!"

Startled, your eyes widened and looked over at Giselle as if she were the reason for a rising earthquake. Ningning was equally shocked, standing still and letting her lash out with no protest.

"Enough of what?" You questioned, worried rather than curious.

Curiosity killed the cat, right?

"Of this!" She frantically gestured between you two, acting as if an enraged wife stumbling upon a forbidden affair.

Offended, Ningning was taken aback and pressed her palm to her chest. "The fuck? Are you on your period or something?" Oh, the worst question to ever ask Giselle in a state like this.

Aggressively, she slammed her shoulder against the Chinese woman's, backing her up to the wall and jabbing a finger against her chest patronisingly. "No, I'm fucking sick of you trying to steal Y/n from me, as if she's some plushie."

Then Ningning defended herself immediately, her pride stinging. "As if Y/n isn't the one reincorporating it back!" Slowly, Giselle's dark eyes lay upon you, narrowing in anger.

"So, she's just being a greedy slut, huh?" You didn't know what to say, knowing it was the truth stated. But who could blame you? It's Ningning and Giselle after all.

Sneering in mock disgust, Ningning clicked her tongue in disapproval. "She's the problem here, not me." Both women agreed in a few glances, a nonverbal agreement exchanged between them.

They had the perfect idea instore for you, a little lesson about not being so gluttonous!

Next thing you knew, one thing led to another, and now... your brazenly red, bruised ass was perched up obediently, taking the plastic cock without mercy as it slammed in a harsh rhythm from Ningning who held your hips till it hurt.

The camera within the not-so-great lenses somehow captured every humiliating detail in the low-quality recording, perched up on the table in front.

Whenever you see it in use, it was a package full of you and Ningning’s little shenanigans at the back of stages, in dorms, or everywhere else you two had a lasting curse on.

This time, Giselle is involved since she wanted to get involved in this, too!

You moaned pathetically into Giselle's cunt, your puppy eyes hesitantly peeked up and saw her face in pure bliss. The stress is completely out of the picture, at least. She let out a series of moans, clenching the sheets underneath, her hips involuntarily bucking up.

That alone made you unwillingly tighten around the fake cock, your orgasm building up in your stomach.

"Just like that, bitch..." she groaned, her thighs clenching your head suffocatingly. "Ah! Oh fuck... oh God..." she bit her lip, stubborn still to the point she didn't want to give you the satisfaction that you're relieving her aching needs.

The camera, positioned awkwardly, captured every detail through its lenses, the low quality creating a sultry effect.

Ningning let out incongruent grunts, ramming in and out, she slapped your ass again a few times and laughed cruelly at your visible discomfort.

"Stupid puppy... maybe this should be the only way you should apologise, hm? Oh, yeah... is cause you're a slut." She mocked, her voice strained with the excessive effort she put into having your hoarse screams muffled by Giselle's thighs, who's now clamming your ears, your sweat-slickened strands stuck to your forehead.

It would be slick with the Japanese woman's cloying juices, as well.

"Mhh..." you whimpered, your words unintelligible, too focused on desperately attempting to draw Giselle's cum out.

Tightening around the silicone dick, you let out a high-pitched wail from the overwhelming sensation of the intense pounding from the back blurring your vision that went unheard. It was futile, your mouth was supposed to be used for their pleasure only, remember?

The strap-on used at this point was used for inflicting punishments, not pleasure.

Unrealistically, it was an eight-incher, you knew that was way too big for your comfort at all!

Deep breaths couldn’t be taken so well either, her pussy consuming all your breathy, desperate whimpers and cries.

Giselle’s thick thighs clamped on you practically, making you unable to pull away and stay in your aching position throughout the whole punishment.

“Mh… just like that, fuck… fuck!” stiffening, her lower stomach tightened and Giselle moaned so loud that it was for sure that the other poor members could hear through the thin halls of the hotel.

Obediently, you lapped the juices spilling out of her quivering cunt. Unaware that you were making her overstimulated instead, despite the drastic trembling of her thighs and her upper body twitching as she processed her shattering release.

Very soon after, a strangled cry broke out into the air, cumming on Ningning’s cock who carelessly for your discomfort rolled a few, slow and deep thrusts in you anyway.

“A-ah…” you choked when Giselle’s thick thighs finally released your poor head.

The Chinese woman lazily slapped your ass again, pulling out, and showed the dripping cum spilling down from the fake dick and to the floor.

When you tried to relax, she leaned in and captured your hair into a bundle in her hand, yanking your hair back.

“The fuck?!” You tried to protest back, but when Ningning leaned in and her cold breath fanned over your red face, you stayed silent as you should.

“Do you think this is over? Not by a long shot, bitch.” Tauntingly, she smiled at you and pulled it further for another whimper to barely come through.

Giselle simply giggled, throwing her head back.

You were about to have a long night… hopefully the fans wouldn't suspect anything wrong with your legs tomorrow.

Rumors may pop up, speculating about the immense and prolonged training having a toll on you. Or haters mindlessly accusing you’re being a lazy fuck.

Little did they know it was just because of two specific women in your group.

[tobesolnelyx]

Can you be able to do frat boy Shauna and Frat boy Lottie both make a plan to have sex with female reader?

NSFW - MDNI

it started with some stupid joke thrown at party. you were drunk, in a good mood, sipping on your beer. three of you were sitting on the small couch in the living room. music was blasting loudly, and air seemed to be sultry as fuck.

lottie was pressed to your right side. her arm was wrapped around your shoulders. she was smoking lazily, watching people walking around the frat house.

on the left, shauna was gripping tightly your thigh. her large hand was spread all over your soft flesh. rubbing or squeezing anytime weird guys were approaching. she’d leaned to you from time to time to make stupid remarks about party goers. just to make you giggle.

you don’t know how this conversation began, but somehow you ended up talking about your sex life. lottie was fully into conversation while shauna mostly listened, rubbing absentmindedly your thigh.

“i could suck off both of you,” you finally slurred out, giggling like you just said the funniest thing on earth.

there was this look that shauna and lottie shared, making sure they heard the same damn thing. shauna shifted uncomfortably on her place, trying not to think about it. to not get a fucking boner right and there. her gaze dropped away, but her fingers were still gripping your flesh.

lottie barked out a laughter. obviously there were already images going through her head. however, she decided to bury those thoughts deep down somewhere in her brain.

turned out that none of them could stop thinking about that. they finally composed themselves to have a talk about that with you. hoping you’re not gonna freak out, or tell them that they’re disgusting for even thinking about that. i mean, they were considering threesome? with you? after one drunken joke?

well, surprisingly… you didn’t need a lot of convincing.

after next practice you find yourself in the locker room. kneeling on the cold floor. the room would be empty and quiet at that hour if it weren’t for three of you, your moans, groans, and sound of skin slapping against skin.

shauna sits there on the bench. tight long sleeve is clinging to her abs after practice. her hair sticks to her forehead. she pulled her shorts enough to reveal her throbbing cock. tip of it is swollen and leaks when you take into your mouth, sucking on it. you slurp on the pre-cum, saliva drips from your chin and lands on your shirt. shauna’s hand softly holds your head in place. she’s not pushing you or urging to take her deeper. no, she massages your scalp, her own head falls back in pure pleasure.

“just like that,” she murmurs, when you bob your head up and down. one of your hands holds her thigh while the other one is focused on stroking carefully her dick. “take it, baby,” she sighs in ecstasy.

it would be easier if it weren’t for lottie. lottie, who positioned herself behind you. her cock is slamming into your ass firmly. it’s not rough, she holds herself back, so you can properly suck shauna’s dick. she pulled her shorts down, too. enough to freely pump her cock inside you. she grips your hips, panting more and more with each thrust.

she bottoms out to spit on her cock. she make sure it’s nice and wet, and then she simply buries herself into you once more. you moan around shauna’s dick and lottie just smiles. she loves getting out of you those pretty sounds. and the fact that you’re making her best friend cum at the same exact moment, only turns her on more.

she leans so slightly before murmuring:

“this tight little hole was made for me,” and with that she picks up her pace, making you gag on shauna’s dick and whimpering around the length. shauna swears she sees stars when her swollen tip hits back of your throat.

[6feathered6siren6]

Can you make a fix where reader is drunk off their ass and spewing random nonsense in the server and everyone is either horrified or laughing their ass off? Much appreciated!!

Tipsy Secrets

Authors notes: Did I use my experience from being under the influence? Yes. This was a lot of fun to write things I learned and never wrote about before. Anyway enjoy! :3

Tigger warnings:

Alcohol

Prices of human parts

Mention torture

Mentions of killing/stabbing

–

“Wait… how bad was I, Misaki?” Your voice quivers. Yesterday was game night, but Misaki convinces the server to do a drinking game this time around. It was ‘Truth or Drink’, a game that somehow got you fucking blasted, and aparrently a giggling mess.

Misaki laughed again. “Oh, come on, Reader, were you that drunk that you don’t remember?”

You were trying to recall your memories. Yesterday, you were in VC for game night, Ai hua and Vince couldn’t join because they had something important happening the next day. Feli couldn’t drink because she had a test the next day, and Luca was playing along in the drinking games. Angel, surprisingly agreed to join, she had the next day a late start, V, after so much pushing from mostly everyone, joined as well. You joined because you thought you didn’t have to do anything the next day. 

About a couple rounds in, you were drunk, and first started the giggling. Then the random murmurs. You didn’t know what you said but Ronin apparently recorded some of it. And it’s going to be a while until he gets off of his job. So there lies you, panicking about what things you said. 

“Come on, buddy,” Luca said, he was trying to soothe your worries but even he sounded kinda scared of you. “It wasn’t all bad.” 

“What Luca said,” Feli was also on call, trying to make you feel better. 

“But that doesn’t explain anything!” You yelled out. “You guys sound scared of me, like did I do something or say something wrong?”

Luca hummed, trying not to say what happened last night, well until a familiar profile picture showed up in VC.

“There’s the executioner! Hope you got new information for us, Darlin’!”

Eh?

“What?” You said, your eyebrow raised. What did you tell them?

Ronin then sent you a voice recording, deafening yourself in the call you decide to listen to it. 

“Did you know that a pair of eyeballs could cost one point five(1.5) thousand dollars?” 

That was your voice…

Ronin recorded you talking gibberish from last night and you can hear the question noises from the others. 

You hear yourself gasp, “LETS GET A GOAT!”

“What?!” Misaki yelled out. 

“Why darling?” 

“In the medieval times they used goats to torture people. So we can use it to kill people, like licking their feet to the point they bleed out, and die from it!” 

It cuts out to another time of you speaking. Hiccuping then speaking, “We can always sell blood, selling a pint is like over three hundred(300), maybe four hundred(400). So maybe we can get rich by selling our blood. Reverse vampire!” Then you started giggling again while everyone was a bit surprised by that, but also some laughing. 

“Darling, are you good?”

“Peachy perfect, emo boy!” This time everyone started laughing before it got cut off to another of you hiccuping. 

“Did you know guns are the most used murder weapon, we need to spice things up, let's start using other things… like… crayons…” 

“Crayons, Reader?” Misaki questioned, mid laughing. 

“Force feed them?” You mumble out. “What about making it sharp and stabbing them or would that categorize it as a stabby stabby?”

Then again it cuts off, the more you listen the more you feel your face burn. All that research and ideas for your book, spilled into the killer's ears. They know…

You look back into the call seeing V has joined, everyone from last night was there. You slowly undeafen the call.

“-but honestly it was kinda funny.” Ronin spoke, “Hey, we learn a bit more about them.”

“Even their ideas of killing or ways to sell bodies! It’s interesting, V!” Misaki yelled out, clearly excited just from you researching things.

“But honestly, who normally just looks into the price of human skulls.” Luca shivered off. 

“Me. I do. And only me I guess,” You spoke, you sound so defeated. Now they think you are a freak, killing and selling bodies. Wanting to bring back medieval torturement. 

Ronin laughs, “Welcome back, Darling! How's the recording?” 

You groan, “Please to whatever god I have to pray, don’t put any of them in the bot.” 

Misaki laughs, “Too late, Buddy!” 

You groan again, hearing Angel’s soft voice through your speakers. “Don’t worry we can suffer together.”

“Yay, suffer duo…” You said in fake excitement. 

From then on, you made yourself promise something, never to get drunk with them.

[kaelidascope]

MM!Yang's official arm design! Her original concept reff is out of date, so I finally got around to making a better reference <3 also now y'all know what it looks like when activated into blast mode!

[cainsgibsongirl]

said this before but being bad at things will always be soooo endearing and beautiful and whimsical To Me like gosh you're so bad at this thing you're learning for the first time what a wonder!! what a curious individual with a lust for life you are what a lust for life!!!!! and if this isn't your first time and yet you're still bad at it how lovely too! your enjoyment doesn't come from being the best or even being good but just the participation of such a thing!!!!?!??? what a fucking lust for fucking life!

[icewindandboringhorror]

examining a seemingly normal image only to slowly realize the clear signs of AI generated art.... i know what you are... you cannot hide your true nature from me... go back where you came from... out of my sight with haste, wretched and vile husk

[thornheartless]

*AGONISED SCREAMING*

[sundives]

My kink is karma ✶ pjs.

If karma's real, hope it's your turn.

Summary: You've wished nothing but bad things to your ex-best friend after she ruined your life by stealing your boyfriend and having your friend group take her side. And it looks like the gods have listened to your prayers when you were approached by Park Jongseong — your ex-best friend's first love.

You believed that bad karma will eventually get her but when Jay was persistent on dating you, you couldn’t help but to plot a petty revenge on your ex-best friend and the worst thing that you can do? Date (and maybe fuck) the guy that she longs for.

✰ Song inspiration: My kink is karma - Chappell Roan, Lacy - Olivia Rodrigo, The grudge - Olivia Rodrigo

✰ Word Count: 21.7k

✰ Tags: Revenge, strangers to lovers, man yearning and slow-burn pining!!! Fluff, a bit of angst, smut, college settings, reader is petty but we all are! reader can also be confusing but let her be, she also smokes for like one scene, Jay is genuine (and a down bad loser), he’s also in a band. Yunjin and Jake as your roommates (and they’re so parents-coded for reader)! Mentions of Enhypen members! <3 Yeonjun as your ex-boyfriend lmao. Oc as your ex-best friend (and so are other minor characters.)

✰ CW: Smut! Plot with little porn, oral (f receiving) cowgirl, a bit submissive Jay and that’s sexy haha, unprotected sex (pls don’t do it) petnames (baby, pretty girl) short aftercare because reader cried after sex. Idk I might have missed other stuff.

✰ Asul's Note: I know that my song inspirations are about sapphic relationships but this plot just went into my mind and i was just,,, you know what, i want to write that. So this is a huge brain rot for me, and just word vomits all pieced together. (Inspired by real life events tbh) Also it’s my first time writing smut so don’t judge. I know it’s shitty too. Other than that, just think of their university as a prestigious university that requires even college students to wear uniforms.

This is my first Enhypen fanfic, hope you guys like it! <3

-

The night club was full by the time the clock struck 1 despite being a Thursday night. Group of friends mostly filled the available tables and couch of the knit-tight club. The speaker’s blasting throughout the four corners with the dj playing some edm music.

It was loud, sweaty, and hot. People your age were dancing and singing along some 2010s pop song as their sweaty bodies hyped the dance floor — completely contrasting you. 

You were wearing a black denim pants and a halter top, sitting legs-crossed on the high stool by the bartender’s counter. You've been sitting there since 11 in the evening and yet, you’re still halfway on your bottle of beer. 

Clubs aren’t always your go-to place, but you felt the urge to celebrate small wins for things that happened today. A small smirk forming on your face as you recall the afternoon scene. 

Your ex-best friend, Yoomi lost her scholarship. What a great way to start your senior year in college. You think. On the first day of class, Yoomi let the tears fall out of her eyes as your other ‘friends’ gathered around to comfort her. Yoomi was sobbing hard as she bore the news on why she was crying. 

She was so loud. It was clear that she wanted to gain sympathy from your other classmates. She lost her scholarship because her gpa last academic year didn’t make it to the cutout. That is because of that one professor who gives low grades. You got a low grade from that professor too but you didn’t mind because it was kinda decent but for Yoomi? It’s the end of her world. 

Yoomi was crying her heart out, sharing that she tried telling the professor that it’ll ruin her goal of achieving summa cum laude this graduation but failed to appease his empathy. You couldn’t help but to roll your eyes because of her words. Your roommate, Yunjin noticed it and could only laugh lightly because you didn’t hide the disgusted look on your face. 

“She deserves it,” you commented while you and Yunjin were on your way back to your dorm. 

“I get you,” Yunjin sympathized. “I really don’t get why everyone likes her. She thinks she’s smart and quirky but the truth is, she’s cringey and pathetic.”

“People are stupid, and are on the same level as Yoomi,” you let out a sigh, trying to erase Yoomi out of your head. 

You and Yoomi instantly clicked on the first day of your freshman year. Both coming from a different town, you two found solace with each other. You two shared the same likes and dislikes, fangirled over anime and would send edit videos on tiktok.

Yoomi was talkative and friendly. Soon, your duo became a friend group who studied together and ranted over crazy tasks and strict professors. Your friend group made you adjust well during freshman year and you were happy that you found a safe space while being away from your family. 

College also became a place for you to try dating, and maybe, find a decent guy that you’ll commit a serious relationship with. During your freshman year, you matched with Yeonjun on a dating app and after a few dates, you two became official. 

You and Yeonjun dated throughout college. It was stable and healthy, and everyone envied your relationship. Yeonjun’s close with your friends and so are you with his friends. For Yoomi, she didn’t lose a friend even though you had a boyfriend. Hell, you were so happy that the two of them are close and bear no awkward signs. 

But that’s where you should’ve seen the signs. Yoomi has always been touchy with Yeonjun, but that’s just how she was with your other male friends. That’s why you didn’t want to put malice on Yoomi — which was your biggest mistake. 

Then came junior year. In a glimpse, Yeonjun became cold to you. Telling you that he’s busy and he couldn’t meet you. You trusted him that he’s just busy, because so were you. Junior year was hectic so you never prioritise your relationship. You were confident with your relationship with him.

So it hit you like a truck when you went to Yeonjun’s dorm to surprise him — only to see Yoomi with him. That’s when it sinked in to you all the times that both of them turn down your study dates, they’re seeing each other behind your back. 

You caught them in the act. Yoomi was on top of Yeonjun, half-naked at your sight. You didn’t miss the way Yoomi smirked, which made you leave the scene. Yeonjun attempted to go after you but you’ve made up your mind. That night, you broke up with Yeonjun and completely cut Yoomi off. 

Your group of friends heard about it, but you didn’t feel a single comfort from them. You were told that “whatever fight you and Yoomi had, they don’t want to pick a side.” and it’s obvious that they’re on Yoomi’s side.

As the days continued, you felt left out by your friend group while Yoomi became center of the attention, that is why the remaining months of your junior year, you only had your roommates by your side 

Yoomi didn’t even wait for a month to hard-launched her relationship with Yeonjun. You found it pathetic of her but you didn’t care anymore. All the tears you’ve cried turned into a loathing feeling for Yoomi, and there’s not a single day that you wish for her downfall.  

It seems like karma has been hearing your prayers. Yoomi’s scholarship is one of the reasons why she can study in a prestigious university like Decelis University, and losing it just in time for senior year can be painful. But you’re overjoyed by the news, wishing that it’ll get worse like her being unable to finish college. You couldn’t help but to lightly chuckle as you took another sip from your beer, chugging it down until its last drop. 

“Hey,” your thoughts trailed off when you picked-up a masculine voice. You turned to your right to see a guy around your age standing beside you. He’s leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s hot with his slicked-back hair, wearing a cotton polo shirt tucked-in snuggly in his cotton pants — contrasting all the streetwear-dressed guys in the club. 

“Hi,” you offered a smile, mentally preparing yourself to reject him. You didn’t go to the club to be picked-up by a stranger after all. 

“You’re alone?” he asked and you only laughed. Of course. That's the first thing a guy would ask. 

“Do you see me talking to someone?” you raised an eyebrow, and that made him chuckle. 

“Well, you wouldn’t mind me accompanying you?” he offered, stretching his hand. “I’m Jay.” 

You stopped your tracks, blinking to sink in his name. Jay. That name sounds so familiar but you couldn’t point a finger about it. 

“Jay,” you breathe. “You go to Decelis University?”

He seems to be surprised by your question. “Yeah, you probably heard of Arcanum? I’m their electric guitarist.”

Fuck. You cursed internally, eyes turning wide. Park Jongseong. Jay. Studies Marketing and Advertising. Electric guitarist of Decelis University’s university band, Arcanum. 

Jay. Your ex-best friend Yoomi’s first love. They go to the same school back in her hometown. Her long-time crush who she followed to Decelis University just to have a chance with him. The guy who’s band gig she attends wherever it is. The guy who made Yoomi hyperventilate when Jay glanced at her for a split second.

And maybe the reason why you didn’t suspect Yoomi to take a liking to Yeonjun is because her goal has always been Jay. 

Jay, who seems to be Yoomi’s universe, is standing in front of you, and casually flirting with you — something that Yoomi never had the chance to do. 

It was as if karma really is doing god’s work. All of Yoomi’s desperate attempts to be noticed by Jay didn’t stand a chance the moment Jay approached you first. The bulb inside your brain suddenly lightens up and suddenly, a plan is circulating in your mind.

“So you’re the electric guitarist,” you smiled. “I admit, your solo performance during the year-end concert was hot.” 

“You think I’m hot?” he asked amusingly.

“Don’t flatter yourself Jay,” you laughed. “You’ll be much hotter if you buy me another bottle of beer though.” 

“If that’s the only thing that can continue this conversation, I’ll be happy to.”

Gotcha. You watched as Jay called out the bartender to order another bottle of beer for you. How you managed to do it so easy was probably karma’s doing and you’re thanking the heavens for siding on you. 

As the night deepens, you and Jay shared an endless conversation about you two. Jumping from one topic to another, and you didn’t miss the subtle flirty remarks he would throw at any chance he could. It didn’t even strike you that the longer your talks were, the less people had become inside the club. 

“It’s almost four,” Jay said. “I think they’re just waiting for us to leave.”

You scanned the whole club and there’s only a few people around. You only had three bottles of beer that night and it was enough for you. You don’t even feel a hint of tipsiness in your system, that’s why you glanced at Jay and smiled,

“I think that’s our cue then,” you said, grabbing your purse and fishing out your wallet when Jay had already handed over his card. 

“So, am I hotter now that I bought you a bottle of beer?” he jokes. 

“You sound like you want some affirmations from me,” you smirked. 

“I’ll be happy to hear affirmations from a pretty girl like you.”

That made you chuckle. “Sure Jay, thanks for the drinks.” you jumped out from the high stool when Jay tapped your shoulder. 

“I’m not really the type to do this but,” Jay started, and you can sense a hint of hesitation in his tone. “But do you wanna go to my place?”

You stared at him for a few seconds. “Sorry, I’m not that type of girl.”

“It’s okay, and I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable,” he quickly said, and you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Most guys will be persistent to take a girl home, but Jay looks away from you embarrassed. 

“I didn’t, don’t worry,” you gave him a smile. You lean towards him, tiptoe-ing to land a kiss on his cheeks. 

“Maybe take me on a date or two, then I can go to your place,” you whispered to his left ear. 

You gave him a wave before you turned around and started walking away when you heard Jay call out your name again.

“Then, when can I see you again!?” he asked. 

You turned around and only smiled at him, “you go to Decelis right? If we bumped into each other, then maybe that’s fate’s way of telling me to go on a date with you.”

You didn’t even let him say another word. You probably have left him speechless as you walked out of the club. The cold air welcomed you as you walked your way towards your car. 

As you sat in the driver’s seat, that’s when you let out a loud laugh that you’ve been holding back throughout the night. Slapping your steering wheel harshly as you laugh until the air in your lungs weakens you.

Catching your breath, you leaned against your seat as you sinked in your mind that you spent the night flirting with Jay — and if you were being petty, you would’ve accepted his invitation. 

Sure it was inviting but short. If you would’ve slept with Jay, that’s just it. You’re just the girl that banged her ex-best friend’s long-time crush and for you, it’s a bit shallow to get back to Yoomi. You wanted her to suffer. To be hurt slowly just like what she did to you. That’s why you’re curating a perfect revenge plan — get back to her by dating the guy that she could never have. 

And Park Jongseong? Well, he’s just the perfect tool for your revenge. But first, you just have to make sure that your plan is actually a sign from the gods themselves. And the only way to find out is if you ever encounter Jay again. 

-

They say that a university is big if you’re looking for someone, and small if you’re avoiding someone. 

If they ask you which one is you, neither of them. You couldn’t avoid Yoomi since she’s your classmate and you curse Decelis’ blocked section policy for letting you see her and your friend group everyday.

You’re not looking for someone too. And if that someone is named Park Jongseong, then yes, you’re definitely not looking for someone. It’s been two weeks since your encounter with Jay and you’ve given up easily. Now, you’re just praying for karma to do all the work.

It was past five in the afternoon. Your last class just ended and your roommates are waiting for you at a Pho stall outside the university for dinner. 

You walked your way towards the university’s nearest exit. The sky slowly turns into shades of purple and deep orange, the sun is about to set and you can feel the cool breeze. You hum lightly as you listen to your music on the way. 

That’s when you felt a light tap on your shoulder, startling you as you turned around and behold —

“Found you,” he teased.

It was obvious in your eyes that you were surprised to see him. Removing your earphones while processing your thoughts. 

“I guessed you’re too stunned to see me,” Jay teases again, making you snap out of your daze.

You chuckled nervously, “what? You just scared me, that’s all.” 

“Really? Well now that I finally found you, how about we talk about your promise?”

“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked instead.

Jay tilts his head amusingly. “Not really, let’s just say fate is doing its work.”

Funny. You thought. It’s the same sign that you’re looking to continue your plan. You weren’t able to say another thing as Jay stood there waiting for your answer. 

And suddenly, that scene from Yeonjun’s dorm flashed in your mind. It has always been engraved in your mind how close they were. Their intimate position as Yeonjun looked at you with shock while Yoomi was glad that you caught both of them. 

Then you remember the times you accompanied Yoomi to Jay’s gig. How she would shout his name so loud that you looked away embarrassed. How she crashed out when Jay reposted her instagram story of his photo taken by her. You remembered how deep Yoomi’s love for Jay — ever since high school, Jay has always been the guy that she wanted to marry. 

You told yourself that if you ever crossed paths with Jay again, it’ll be the sign to get back to Yoomi. That this is karma’s way to tell you that you should do it instead of waiting for them. Now, Jay found you and is eager to get that date, what’s holding you back now?

It’s the last year of your college. Why not end it with pettiness and hatred? You don’t want to graduate college with pain and trauma, and surely, you don’t want to be the bigger person who’ll forgive and forget — no, you were never always the bigger person. Not when there’s nothing to forgive and forget because both Yeonjun and Yoomi weren’t sorry for their actions. 

“Like, right now?” You asked Jay. 

Jay merely shrugs, “I mean if you want to, but if you want a splendid, prepared date, we can also have that one.” 

You clicked your tongue. Pondering if this is worth ditching Yunjin and Jake. 

And it didn’t take you a minute to decide. You fished out your phone and started typing a message to your roommates. 

3rd floor besties <3

Yn: Can’t go. Jay asked me to have dinner with him. I’ll spare the details later. 

5:23 pm

Yunjin: JAY ???? THE GUY THAT Yoomi LIKES ???

5:24 pm

Jake: Guessed he found you lmao. He’s been yapping about you since that night at the club. 

5:24 pm

Yunjin: GO FOR IT GURLIE WE LOVE TO SEE IT. 

5:24 pm

You chose to not reply to your roommates and instead, placed your phone in your jeans pocket. 

“So, where should we spontaneously go for a dinner date?” You asked. 

“You sure, you don’t mind ditching your friends?” he throws back the question. 

You only shrugged, “they’ll be fine. So, where are we going?” 

“You take the pick, I’m okay with anything.”

You and Jay stumbled upon a small chinese eatery just five minutes away from the university gate. It’s a bit crowded and maybe, your pho cravings can be replaced with xiao long bao. 

As soon as the server left the table, that’s when an awkward atmosphere emitted between the two of you. You didn’t know what to say compared that night wherein alcohol took a huge part in your courage. 

“So, how have you been?” Jay started, making you glance at him.

You let out a soft chuckle. “I’m doing okay actually, how about you? You seem like you were glad to see me.” 

“I’m going to be honest but I actually am glad to see you.”

For Jay, the university was big yet small as he looked for you. 

He never felt so pathetic in his life before. One of his mistakes was not asking for your socials and damn you, for telling him that it’ll be fate for you two to meet again. He’s not even a spiritual person and whatever you said made him think if you’re interested in him or not. 

A week or two felt like a hopeless case, it wasn’t until his idiotic friend, Jake Sim only recently told him that you’re his roommate — after weeks of him venting his frustration.

“You’re down bad,” Jake jokingly said. 

“Shut up and just tell me about her college program,” Jay hastily said. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Jake said in a serious tone. “Her last relationship was fucked-up, her ex was a fucking asshole that cheated on her.” 

Jay didn’t question Jake’s protective tone. He only nods as he assures his friend that he doesn’t have any bad intentions towards you. He understands why it took Jake a while for him to say that you’re his roommates. 

That’s when he got to know you. You’re a senior like him. You study diplomatics which is on the other side of the university — far from his building. While it’s stupid for him to stand outside your department building looking like a stalker, Jay took the courage to pass by the building in hopes of bumping into you. 

And it seems like favor is on him because you two met midway that what he was supposed to plan. 

“Jake told you huh?” you laughed after hearing Jay’s story. 

“Yeah, he also told me some stuff,” Jay replied, making you stop. You glanced at him, heart beating fast. 

“About your ex, you know, he’s an asshole who doesn't deserve you.”

You only smile at him. “It’s kinda traumatic for me, what happened and — Jay, I just want to tell you that I’m not that ready to enter a serious relationship.”

“You can back out now before I use you in my plan,” was what you actually meant. 

“And I am not rushing you,” Jay answered. “Let’s just keep it casual okay? Get to know each other, and go on a few dates.”

You let out a nervous laugh, “you’re eager huh?”

“I just don’t want to lose you again,” Jay truthfully said. So casual and simply that he didn’t know it shot an arrow to your heart.

That was your sign.

“I think he likes me,” you started. After the dinner, Jay walked you to your dorm where Jake and Yunjin were waiting. You can see through the floor balcony that the two of them were waiting for you like a parent whose daughter went past her curfew.

“Likes you? Dude, he’s down bad!” Jake pointed out. “I swear, every time I was with him, he’s all frustrated because he couldn’t find you.” 

“And it took you two weeks to tell him that you’re y/n’s roommate?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow.

“I thought it’ll pass, but two weeks and he still keeps on looking for y/n had me thinking that he’s so desperate,” Jake shrugs. 

You let out a frustrated groan, getting your roommate’s attention. 

“You guys be honest, am I petty if I want to date Jay just to get back to Yoomi?” you asked. 

The two of them only stared at you, making you let out a sigh again. 

“It’s stupid right? I shouldn’t do it —”

“No, no, if it gives you the satisfaction of getting back to Yoomi, then why not?” Yunjin answered. 

“Just make sure you don’t hurt Jay, he seems genuine about you,” Jake added. 

You only stared at them for a good minute. “This is a bad idea right?”

Both your roommates looked at each other. Yunjin signaled Jake who only groaned as he glanced back at you. He fixes his glasses like he’s sort of a scientist while he leans against the railings of the balcony. 

“Y/n, I’m telling you this as Jay’s friend. If you plan on using Jay just to get back to Yoomi, then don’t do it. Don’t involve innocent people around here — regardless how much Yoomi hurt you,” Jake explained. 

“Yeah, who knows, maybe it’ll go back to you too,” Yunjin added. 

You only nod at their words. “But Jay really likes me — but I’m not ready for a relationship. The only reason why I said yes was because I was really planning on getting back to Yoomi.”

The three of you fell into an awkward silence. Silently pondering your words, both your roommates knew how much it hurted you, and while they’re in to tolerate your pettiness, an innocent person is on the line. 

Then, Yunjin’s face lights up, snapping her fingers to get your attention. 

“Just think of it this way y/n, Jay likes you and not Yoomi. Yoomi has been obsessing with Jay for god knows how long, and you got him wrapped around your finger that easily. Just date him casually! Just show to Yoomi that you can have Jay and she can’t — and she’s dating that trash of your ex too.” Yunjin explained. 

“Yunjin’s right, and Jay told you that he’s not rushing you right? You’re not pressured to date him exclusively too. Get to know him too, who knows maybe you two end up friends instead,” Jake added. 

“Wait, that answers my worry! I can also reject Jay since he knew from the start that I am not ready for a committed relationship,” you pointed out. 

“Jay’s a nice guy y/n, he’ll understand if you reject him too,” Jake stated. 

You let out a loud sigh of relief. The plan was simple: date Jay and show Yoomi that. You didn’t need some splendid action to be the end of your revenge. It didn’t matter to you its aftermath. All you can think about is stretching it long enough to make it believable.

And probably long enough for Yoomi to confront you and shove in her face that Jay’s interested in you — not her. That’ll destroy her. 

“Just don’t overthink about it,” Yunjin stated. “I know how you tend to mix your decisions with your emotions. Always think rationally okay? Go with the flow and everything.”

You only looked at her with an assuring smile, “don’t worry, no feelings involved in this one.” 

-

You always wonder why luck is always on Yoomi’s side. 

Of course, she managed to maintain her scholarship despite not maintaining her gpa. A bit unfair but you heard that she pulled a few strings to your college dean just so she can still have her scholarship until graduation. 

Now, she’s all over her instagram story having a “story time” that’s about 20+ slides and you seriously wonder if there are people who are willing to watch those — maybe those who are interested in her life just to talk shit about her.

“Look at this,” Yunjin laughed, showing you a screenshot of Yoomi’s ig story. In the post, she shared how Yeonjun comforted her by buying her flowers from a nearby flower shop and took her to her favorite coffee shop so that the two of them could have a study date.

She shared that being able to maintain her scholarship was a gift and now, she’ll work hard to maintain her gpa. (and in case her followers don’t know, she’s running for summa cum laude.)

“Ugh, does she ever think that no one gives a fuck about her life story?” Yoomi’s an open book for everyone. She shares the most insane tmi’s on her social media which dilutes her personality. But what bothers you is that no one never dared to call her out and give her a reality check. Everyone in your department knows that you dated Yeonjun before she did, but no one…not even one, bat an eye on the situation. 

“I feel like only a few people do, but I do like scouring through her instagram story just to laugh at it,” Yunjin snickered. 

“You’re so mean,” you mocked. “How can you do that to sweet little Yoomi?”

“Shut up, you literally loathe her,” the two of you bursted into laughter as you two decided that it’s time to return to your class after staying in a cafe during lunch time. 

“By the way, when are you going to meet Jay again?” Yunjin asked. 

“This Saturday,” you answered simply. During your spontaneous date, you and Jay exchanged socials and numbers. He immediately sent you a text after he reached his place, and your conversation continued ever since. 

“What’s the plan?” Yunjin asked.

“I don’t have any,” you shrugged. “I’ll just think that we’re casually dating, and let Yoomi discover it herself.” 

“So, no soft-launches or instagram stories?”

“None for me. It’ll be obvious if I post Jay, but if Jay posts me?” you let out a small laugh. “And Yoomi sees it? Oh that’ll crash her.” 

Yunjin gasps, “god you’re so genius for that! You’re really taking this seriously aren’t you?”

And before you could answer, your eyes caught a glimpse of Yoomi and Yeonjun walking together towards the entrance of the department building. You stop as you observe how Yoomi’s talking non stop as she clings around Yeonjun’s arms.

Instead of answering Yunjin, you only gave her a glance before shifting your gaze back to the couple. You can hear Yunjin imitating a gagging sound which only makes you chuckle.

“I hope they get caught by our discipline officer,” Yunjin muttered with disgust. 

“I just hope they break up in the ugliest way possible,” you mumbled. 

-

When Saturday arrived, you managed to slip out of your bed at 10 in the morning. Groaning as you enter the kitchen where Jake is. 

“Woah, you don’t seem prepared for your date,” Jake teases. 

“Why did I agree to meet him during lunch time,” you complained, pouring yourself a glass of water. 

“It’s Jay that we’re talking about, who knows what he got under sleeves,” your roommate laughed. “Goodluck on your date, just keep it casual okay?”

“Yes dad,” you mocked.

You only ate a piece of bread with spread as your breakfast before returning to your room to prepare. Jay has sent you a message that he’ll pick you up at twelve noon. 

You fished out one of your casual clothes which is a soft cardigan and summer dress. You paired it with your mary jane doll shoes and kept your hair untied and flowy. After putting on some light makeup and accessories, you went out of your room to wait for Jay. You strut down towards the living where Yunjin and Jake are watching some series. 

“Oh my god, you look so gorgeous! You really prepared yourself, didn't you?” Yunjin compliments. 

“If it wasn’t for your revenge thingy, I would assume that you’re dressing to impress Jay,” Jake comments, earning a light punch from you. 

“Shut up, if he ever posts me on his social media, I should at least prepare myself right?” you pointed out, making the two laugh. 

And before the conversation could continue, you heard the doorbell of your flat ring, which indicated that Jay’s here. 

“Wow he’s early. He’s never been early in his band practices,” Jake stated. 

“He’s excited for you!” Yunjin squealed, shaking your shoulders as she pushed you towards the entrance.

You only laugh as you stop in front of the door, glancing at your roommates who only shushes you to answer the door. 

Jay stood there in his glory, and like the first time you two met — he’s rocking his signature polo shirt but this time, it’s a loose and button-down, paired with formal slacks. He styled his hair in a boyish look which complimented him more. 

“Hi,” he greets you with a smile, and before you could say anything, he pulls something from his back. “Flowers?”

You could only smile as you grabbed the bouquet from him. “Lilies! How did you —”

“Thank me later!” Jake interrupted, which made you realise that your two roommates have been watching the scene. 

“Right —” you only chuckled, “Jay, my roommates Yunjin and Jake, you probably know them.”

“Hi!” Yunjin greets lightly. 

“I hope we get some leftovers from your date,” Jake casually said. 

You only laughed at their comments before glancing at Jay. “should we get going?”

“I’ll bring back y/n later at night,” Jay excused, grabbing your hand before waving goodbye to the two. 

“Enjoy your date!” Yunjin giggled. 

“Our leftovers, don’t forget!” Jake repeated. 

You and Jay were laughing on the way down and towards his car. 

“Remind me to buy Jake some food okay?” Jay jokes as he turns on the engine of his car, driving away from your dorm in a slow manner. 

“You really owe him big time huh?” you teased, glancing at the bouquet that he gave you. You always love lilies. The arrangement was gorgeous with small daisies and baby breaths wrapped around a delicate white and baby pink wrapper. 

“Without him, I wouldn’t be able to know more about you,” Jay explained, eyes still focused on the road. “That idiot took his time to tell me that you’re his roommate.”

You only laughed, “small world right?”

“Right.”

After an hour of driving, you catched a glimpse of the place that Jay bought you. You only glanced at him who’s smiling as he turned the car towards the entrance. 

“An oceanarium, what an interesting choice,” you teased, but there’s a huge smile on your face. 

“You like it?” he asked. 

You hummed for a minute, “Jake told you that I like the ocean?”

“You do?” Jay laughs, “no, this is just a coincidence but glad to know that I brought you to the right place.”

The oceanarium was crowded when you two went to the entrance. It took you a half an hour waiting time for the two of you to enter. 

Displays of aquariums welcomed you two. Your mouth gasping at the glass ceiling where marine creatures swam freely around the space. You were too immersed with the view that you had forgotten Jay who’s walking behind you. Smiling as he watches you be in awe at the place. 

He lets you walk around the area, following you wherever you want. You didn’t even notice how every time you’re standing in daze in front of an aquarium, Jay fishes out his phone to take a photo of you. His smile never left as he placed his phone back in his pocket. 

“You know, I always wanted to be a marine biologist,” you started, staring at the stingray passing by. 

Jay leans towards the aquarium, scanning the whole place. “Really? That’s a bit far from your program.”

“Decelis doesn’t offer that marine biology,” you only smiled. “But I’m content with my program.” 

Jay only chuckled. The two of you stood there, trying to be immersed with the place. The blue waters painting you two in that hue as the faint background of the ocean waves played on the speaker. 

“Wow,” you mumbled, catching a glimpse of a school of angelfish passing by. 

Jay on the other hand, couldn’t help but to keep on glancing at you. Smiling like an idiot because he chose the right place to take you. His eyes darted on your hand freely hanging. For a second Jay pondered, but his courage won over him. 

You were a bit startled when you felt Jay’s fingers brushing against yours, and in a split second, his hands slipped onto yours, intertwining with your fingers. You glanced at Jay and he only gave you a smile, tugging your heart in a light manner. 

“Should we go to the next area?”

The two of you walked together towards the next area, a dimmed room filled with small exhibitions of marine creatures that can be found in the deeper part of the ocean. Jay can hear your soft gasps and astonishment as your head scans every display. You two walked further until you two reached a larger area. 

“Oh my god,” you muttered, quickly walking towards the huge glass that displayed a swarm of jellyfish, unknowingly you let go of Jay’s hand. You stood there, hands clasping on the glass as you watched them glow brightly under the dark blue waters, igniting a white light as it swims freely around the area. 

Jay remained standing from where he was standing, snapping another photo of you. He stared at it for a good minute, thinking how you look so beautiful despite the little light the place beams. He watched as you turned around, motioning him to come to you, which Jay only smiled as he walked towards you. 

“It’s so beautiful right?” you said, eyes never leaving the display. 

“Yeah, so beautiful” and as you looked at Jay, he was only staring at you. You can feel your face heating up, making you look away embarrassed. You can hear Jay’s soft chuckle, making you lightly punch his arms. 

“Stop that won’t you?” you muttered, embarrassed. 

“You look cute when you’re flustered,” Jay teased. 

“Shut up Jay,” you whined, walking away from the area, which only Jay followed you with a teasing smile on his face. 

After looking at every display inside the oceanarium, you two stumbled upon the souvenir shop where you found yourself staring at a small selection of keychains. 

“Found yourself something?” Jay asked, making you shift your head to him, before glancing at the keychain again. 

“Nothing, let’s go,” you said, but Jay pulls you. 

“You want the keychain? Come on, it’s cute,” Jay said, grabbing the starfish and jellyfish. 

“No, it’s okay, it’s a bit pricey too —”

“It’s on me, don’t worry,” Jay assured, and before you could even rebut, Jay had made his way towards the counter, fishing out his wallet and paying the keychains with ease. 

“Here,” Jay hands you the jellyfish keychain, smiling at you as he waved the plastic bag with the other keychain inside. 

“So that we can match,” he pointed out, and that only made you laugh. 

“Fine, if you insist,” but nonchalantly said, but deep inside you can feel your heart beating fast. 

You and Jay had a late lunch at a local restaurant near the oceanarium, enjoying a hearty meal with a side of takeout for your two hungry roommates. You two shared a few conversations and you’ve learned more about Jay — shifting the conversation to Yoomi. 

“I do know her, she was a schoolmate of mine, I was surprised that she studies in Decelis,” Jay laughs. “Why? What’s with Yoomi?”

You only bite your lips, suppressing a bitter laugh, “she used to be a friend of mine but she stole my boyfriend and yeah,” shrugging it off as you focus your attention on your meal.

“Wait, your ex-boyfriend cheated on you with your best friend?” Jay asked, appalled. 

You shrugged once again, “guess it was like that, I didn’t ask for an explanation because damn, what for right?” 

“Wow,” Jay said, shocked. He leaned against his seat as he tried to sink everything. “Damn, they’re a bunch of assholes.”

“I know but let’s just change the topic before I lose my appetite here,” you jokingly said. 

“I can’t believe it,” Jay leans against his chair. “I mean this is just an impression but I never thought Yoomi would do that.”

That’s when you bitterly smiled, “I thought so too.” you said with disappointment. 

Thankfully, Jay didn’t push further. He darted his attention to his meal instead, having you two eat in silence. You knew that bringing up your past may be an awkward thing to do during dates but the least you can do is give Jay a hint about your past relationship. 

The drive on the way back was quiet, yet comfortable. You could only listen to the music playing on the car’s stereo, a collection of old love songs that Jay had played from his phone. It was a random choice but it completely suited the vibe of the evening. You watched from the window the busy streets of the city. People walking down the streets, the opened establishments of local stores and their colorful signs, glistening just like the street lights. Everything just feels serene for you. 

Soon, you two reached your place. As Jay parked the car on the side, that’s when you realized that you just finished your date. 

“I had fun,” you blurted out. Removing your seatbelt before giving Jay a glance. “Thank you Jay for this day.”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Jay said, and the next thing you knew, his hands brushed the stray hairs that covered your face, you were a bit startled but didn’t move. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and you could only blink, trying to sink in what he just said. 

“Of course Jay,” you smiled. 

Jay leans closer to you, making you close your eyes as you feel his soft lips crashing onto yours. It felt surreal for you, but your lips moved on its own as you kissed Jay back. It was soft and gentle, as if he was careful of hurting you. You can feel it that way when his hands never left your face, thumb caressing your cheeks as the kiss continued. 

And what felt like an hour broke down the minute you broke from the kiss. Catching your breath as you looked at Jay who had a soft smile on his lips. 

“Goodnight y/n,” he said, placing another kiss on your lips. “See you again?”

With that, you lightfully kissed him in the lips again. ���Of course, goodnight Jay.”

And just like that, you returned to your apartment with a smile on your lips. More determined to continue your plan on getting back to your ex-best friend. 

-

Monday arrived and Yoomi cornered you in the hallway. 

“You went out on a date with Jay,” she said to you, looking more betrayed than ever. 

“How did you know?” you asked instead, knowing that Jay didn’t post you in his social media. 

“Hana saw you. Jay walked you to your apartment with a bouquet,” she added. Right. You thought. You almost forgot you have a former friend who lives nearby your dorm. 

“It’s just a date,” you shrugged casually, knowing that Yoomi doesn’t take a ‘date with Jay’ lightly. She’ll sell her soul just to have a date with Jay. 

“You knew I liked Jay from the start,” Yoomi gritted her teeth. “Have you ever heard of girl’s code?”

That’s when a mocking laughter escaped your lips, “funny that you said that, ever heard of it when you went behind my back and stole Yeonjun?”

“Yeonjun approached me first,” she explained, her tone becoming soft like she was asking for your sympathy. “And I know that it was mistake but for the first time, someone noticed me and I couldn’t help it —”

“Even if it was your best friend’s boyfriend?” 

“You were too good for Yeonjun anyway! You never prioritise your relationship with him and become too focused on your academics.” she immediately rebutted, tone shifting into  a defensive one. 

Her words made you let out a chuckle. Her reason made no sense for you, and it just fueled your anger at her. It didn’t make any sense that your academics will be the reason for you to be cheated — Yeonjun knew that from the start, it has always been your priority. You two always had study dates, and sometimes Yoomi would even join you too. So it didn’t made sense for you why that’s the reason for your life to get fucked. 

You couldn’t believe that after a year of cutting her off, this is the first time you’ll confront her. So much for a Monday morning for you. You always convince yourself that there’s no need to hear her side, but there’s a small itch inside you that wants to know — in hopes that maybe it can heal a bit of the huge damage that scarred you. 

“Is that so?” you raised an eyebrow. “Well, for your information, Jay approached me first, and for the first time ever since Yeonjun and I broke up, someone noticed me. So I guess we’re even.” 

You can see in her eyes that she was surprised. Her eyes started to water as if she was stabbed in her heart with a long dagger. And as you stare at her with a bored look, a bitter smile forms on your lips. “Why are you so bothered that I am seeing Jay? You have Yeonjun already, right?”

Yoomi didn’t say anything. She stood there frozen as you lazily shrugged your shoulders. “Yoomi, Jay was never yours in the first place right? So there’s nothing wrong with me dating him,” you explained. “And there’s no girl’s code here, because we’re not friends anymore either.”

You gave her a genuine smile before you left her there standing. You walked your way towards your classroom when you felt your phone vibrating. Grabbing it, you smiled as you received a text from Jay. Talking about good timing, he asked you to hangout with him after school. 

“Of course,” you mumbled as you sent your reply to him. 

You felt satisfied with the confrontation. Now that Yoomi knows that you’re dating Jay, you wanted to crush her even more. More dates, more show-off. And who knows, maybe you’ll get to sleep with Jay too. That’s not part of your plan but you know that it’ll leave Yoomi into insanity. 

The day moved at a fast pace, the next thing you knew, your prof dismissed the class with a few reminders. As you pack your things, Yunjin eyes on you teasingly. 

“You’re going to ditch us again huh? Is this what having a love life feels like!?” Unlike you, Yunjin likes throwing remarks, and she made sure her voice is loud enough for Yoomi to turn her head towards your direction. 

“It’s nothing, he just asked me if we can hangout later,” you casually said. 

“You’re so shameless,” Yunjin rolled her eyes making you laugh.

You can feel Yoomi’s eyes never leaving yours, and you faintly smirked as you and Yunjin exit the classroom. 

Outside the department, Jay was waiting near the benches. As soon as he saw you, Jay smiled as he approached you and Yunjin. You can feel the stares darting towards you and Jay, that’s when you remember that Jay’s kinda famous around the campus because of Arcanum. You didn’t like the attention, but knowing that any minute, Yoomi will exit the building, you let it be. 

“Hi,” Jay greets, smiling at you two. “Hi Yunjin.”

“Thanks for the leftovers by the way, hopefully we can have some again tonight,” Yunjin teased, making you elbow your friend. 

“Ignore her,” you laughed. “Let’s go?”

You and Jay began walking towards the parking lot. This isn’t the first time you and Jay had walked together inside the campus, but this is like your ‘soft-launch’ with your relationship with him, given that he was carrying your tote bag throughout the whole time. 

And if that doesn’t give you satisfaction, Yunjin sent you a message saying that Yoomi saw you and Jay leave together, making you smile as you put down your phone in your pocket. 

“You’re smiling,” Jay pointed out.

You only hum lightly, grabbing Jay’s hands and intertwining it with yours. You felt the way Jay was surprised by your actions, but let it be, his smile turning wider. 

“Just in a happy mood,” you explained. “So, where are we going?”

You found yourself in a familiar place — The Rabbit Hole, which is a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge. It’s Arcanum’s usual spot for their gig. You’re so familiar with the place that you know that their gig starts at seven in the evening. And by seven, the place will be crowded with their fans and students, it’ll be loud, a bit chaotic but it’s a good chaos.

It made you wonder if Yoomi’s going to show up to support Jay since she never missed Arcanum’s gig. You sat by a corner table, your tote bag placed on top as you scan the menu. 

“Hi! You’re here again!” The Rabbit Hole is under Decelis University’s funding, and often one of their students would work there as part-timers. One of them being Kim Sunoo, who’s smile never fades especially when it’s a full house. 

“Hi Sunoo! I miss you,” you smiled, giving the junior a hug. “How’s work here?”

“All the same, but it was nice seeing you again! You’re my favorite customer, you know?” he complimented. 

“Thanks Sunoo, I’ll have the usual, you still remember it right?” you said. 

“Of course, orange flower cocktail and wedged fries. Just sit back and relax, because it seems like Arcanum has a special performance tonight,” the younger winks at you before leaving towards the kitchen. His words leave you wondering as you watch Arcanum set up. 

It didn’t take a while for the place to be filled with people. You can see your fellow schoolmates still in their department uniform, not even bother changing clothes. Locals and supporters also filled the area. It had become so busy that Sunoo moved you to the bar counter in which you were accompanied by their new part-timer named Riki. 

You only munched on your fries as you scanned the whole place, and near the stage you saw Yoomi, along with some of your former friends, talking as they waited for Arcanum’s performance. You watched as they laughed and cheered their colorful cocktails while you sat on the corner, eating your soggy fries and drinking your melted drink. 

You can feel a tug on your heart, watching how they had fun especially when you used to have a place there. You never felt more lonely by the counter, wishing that you brought your roommates along with you. 

A static sound interrupted your thoughts, shifting your attention to the stage where Arcanum’s main vocalist and bassist, Lee Heeseung taps the mic. He waves to the crowd and smiles, earning a few screams from their fans. 

“Are you guys ready to have fun!?” he shouted, and the crowd shouted “yes!” in response. You can see the smirk from the oldest as he glances at his bandmates. Your eyes darted on Jay who changed his uniform to a casual streetwear outfit — far different from his usual looks but he looks good. 

“I think the energy is still low hyung,” Jungwon, who’s on the drums, teases. Earning a few uproar from the crowd, which made the band laugh.

“Let me ask one more time, are you guys ready to have fun!?” This time, the crowd became louder, enough for you to be startled. You hear Heeseung laugh as he counts down from three and with that, they begin playing their song. 

From the many times you attended their gig, this is the first time you decided to watch their performance. Eyes locked on the stage as Heeseung began singing, making you realise that there’s a reason why they’re popular despite being a university band. 

The crowd was singing along, making you an odd one out who’s only nodding her head along the beat. Your eyes darted on Jay, you watched as he passionately played the instrument. He was feeling it like he was a rockstar

Damn. You couldn’t help but to lock your eyes on him. He was absolutely heaven to stare at, and it only took you this time to realise why girls like Yoomi go crazy over him. It didn’t sink into you that you’ve been staring for too long that when Jay glanced at you, you were surprised. But you saw how Jay smiled before winking at you. You can feel your cheeks heating up, unknown how Jay had this effect on you. 

Arcanum performed five songs, with a few pause for the band’s introduction and their self-composed songs. They were fun to watch. They interacted with the crowd and moreover, made them laugh too. 

“But before we move on to our next song, we have a surprise for you guys,” Heeseung started. His eyes darted on Jay, earning a few teases from Jungwon and Sunghoon.

“This is a rare occasion, so you guys are lucky to witness this one,” Sunghoon added. 

“Right! We practiced hard for this one,” Jungwon added

You were too focused with their ment that you didn’t felt Sunoo’s nudge until he did it again, you only glanced at the younger who gave you a meaningful smile. 

“Okay, we don’t want to wait for too long right? Jay, the floor is yours,” Heeseung exchanges his place with Jay who stood in front of the mic, holding his electric guitar. A few cheers can be heard but you can hear a familiar voice that keeps on screaming “Park Jongseong!”

You shifted your attention towards Yoomi who’s hopping like a bunny, shouting Jay’s full name with her whole heart. Damn. You thought. She really is not over Jay. 

“Hi guys, I’m Jay, Arcanum’s electric guitarist,” Jay introduces. “This is kinda cringe, but when you really love someone, you just want to dedicate a few songs to her right?.”

“I don’t think I did that to my girlfriend dude,” Heeseung rebuts, making the room laugh. 

Jay only chuckles, “shut up, you wrote a song about her — but anyways, I just want to dedicate a few songs to the girl who holds a place in my heart.” With that, the crowd cooed at Jay's words. 

But you felt the world shutting down. Ears muted as you watched Jay glance from where you were sitting. You didn’t notice that you were left stunned, not until you felt Sunoo shaking your shoulder out of teasing.  

You can feel it, a few people glancing at you, your heart beating rapidly like crazy. Things didn’t sink in your mind until Jay strummed the first chords of the song. 

“I love you. But I don't really show you,” the lyrics said. You watch as Jay serenades the crowd with a song that you knew very well talks about love. You can hear the cheers, and then there’s the whispers, oblivious people wondering who the special girl was. 

Jay sang the song with much sincerity, ending it with a short guitar solo which made the crowd be in awe with his skills. Screams and shouts continued until the last chord. You couldn’t help but to applause, a smile forming on your lips as you stood up from your chair. 

“Seems like they love your voice Jay-hyung,” Jungwon complimented, making the audience laugh, chanting Jay’s name which made the boy flustered. 

“Do you guys want more?” he asked, and all he received was a loud yes from the crowd. 

“Alright, for the next one, it’s a new song we composed. It's a bit chill but I hope you guys like it,” Jay said, turning around to his bandmate who immediately got the cue. 

Sunghoon started off the song with a short intro from his keyboards. It was soft and gentle, almost like a lullaby. It wasn’t until Jungwon accompanied it with drums then came along the bass and guitar. 

It felt unreal, a song that when you first hear, you’ll feel like you’re falling in love.  You were hooked by the melody, watching as Jay glanced at you before turning his attention to the crowd. 

“X-O, X-O, kiss me, don't let go,” Jay sang, smiling ear to ear as he sang the lyrics in an upbeat manner. 

It was cute, yet short, all you can hear was Jay’s vocals, sometimes harmonizing with his bandmates. You didn’t even notice that the song had ended, if it wasn’t for the crowd’s cheering, you would have been caught in daze due to the performance. 

“So what Jay was trying to say, he deserves a kiss from his special girl,” Heeseung stated, which earned a few screams from the crowd. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Sunghoon shouted, starting the chant which was followed by the crowd. 

You only laugh as you try to sink in your seat, embarrassed. But it didn’t help that Sunoo and Riki teamed-up to pull you up from your seat, almost carrying you as the crowd’s chants got louder the moment you reached the stage. You were left with no choice but to face it especially when the two juniors pushed you specifically at Jay who managed to get a hold of you from falling. 

You can hear the crowd teasing the two of you. If it wasn’t enough, Jay’s bandmates joined the fun too, you could only hide behind Jay’s back but Heeseung managed to pull you away from Jay. 

“Nice to meet you Jay’s special girl,” Heeseung smiles and you only chuckled. Facing him since you were left with no choice but to accept the request. “You don’t mind it right? The crowd’s curious about you because this is like the first time Jay sang during a gig, so consider yourself lucky.”

Your eyes widen at Heeseung’s words, hiding your flustered feeling by letting out an awkward laugh. Your words got stuck on your throat as you only glanced at Jay who’s like a confused cat, standing in front of you. 

“You’ll be okay with it?” Jay asked you, tone hinted with worry. 

That’s when you can feel from your peripheral vision that your ex-best friend is watching every move that you’ll do. Everything’s coming into pieces for you. Although the peer pressure is there, what would be more satisfying than seeing Yoomi’s reaction especially when she just confronted you earlier this morning?

“I don’t mind,” you answered Jay, giving him a small smile before signaling him to lean closer. 

But you wanted to tease a little bit, hence, your lips landed on his cheeks which caused an uproar from the audience. They kept on chanting that you two should kiss again, but you only shook your head while Jay was speechless. 

“Okay that’s enough pda, we don’t want to get suspended by our uni alright? Y/n is still in her uniform guys,” Heeseung managed to calm down the crowd, while you and Jay remained there frozen. You can hear Jungwon and Sunghoon’s laughters from behind, before they went near the two of you, teasing Jay who could only looked away with his ears turning red. 

After that scandalous scene, Arcanum performed a few songs and covers before they finished their gig. You watched as the band members got swarmed by a few people. They attentively took their time to take photos and signed some papers for them. They weren’t just popular for their music, but they were also kind and soft-hearted. Each interaction was genuine. 

Your eyes shifted to Jay who’s busy talking to a fan when you noticed that Yoomi was approaching him. You stopped your tracks, standing up from your seat which caught Jay’s attention, making an eye contact with you, you only gave him a quick smile which made him excuse himself from the fans — not even sparing a glance at Yoomi who wasn’t able to tap his shoulders. 

“Sorry it took a bit long, we were supposed to end around nine,” he apologized as soon as he’s in front of you. It was nearing ten and the place was still crowded, with the speakers blasting a few pop songs to hype up the crowd.

“It’s okay, I enjoyed your performance,” you gave him a smile. From where you were sitting, you witnessed how Yoomi returned to her table disappointed, which made you smile even wider. 

“I’m glad you did. I was supposed to take you to dinner but it’s getting late already.” Jay sighed in relief.

“It’s okay, I did order food while watching your gig.” you insisted.

“How about this, we can have dinner some other time.” Jay suggested, making you raise an eyebrow.

“And where’s this dinner going to be held huh?”

-

How you ended up in Jay’s apartment wasn't what you expected. And yet, you’re there standing in front of his door, ringing the bell twice, and just thinking “whatever happens tonight, happens.”

It’s been a few days since the Rabbit Hole gig. Your little stunt spread throughout Decelis — which instantly concluded that you and Jay are dating, and the only small details students don’t know are whether it is exclusively or casual. Yoomi hasn't bothered you ever since, but you know that she’s been drilling holes whenever you’re near her vicinity. You know that she’s been itching to confront you again, but because of the embarrassment that she felt that night, she distanced herself for some time. 

Then you recalled that night you first met Jay, how he asked you to go to his place and you rejected him. Now, everything has come full circle because you’re about to have dinner with him in his place — that is, if dinner will actually happen. 

Jay opens the door for you, planting a kiss on your temple as you walk inside. You scanned the whole place. It was huge, clean, and a bit cozy with the jazz music playing on his vinyl record player. 

“Your place looks nice,” you complimented. 

“Thanks,” Jay muttered, walking towards the kitchen wherein you trailed to.

You watch as Jay busies himself in the kitchen. You can smell the heavenly smell of sauteed garlic and rosemary on butter, pots on the stove boiling some pasta while there’s the sizzling sound of steak on a hot pan. 

“That looks delicious,” you peeked through the stove, eyeing Jay's skillful hands as he cooked the sauce. “Is there anything that I can help?”

Jay only gave you a smile as he prepared everything with ease, “no need to worry about dinner, just go sit on the couch, you can watch some series on my tv.”

“Well, I would rather watch you cook instead,” you pursued, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“You’re just here to distract me,” Jay teased, eyes never left the stove.

“Maybe I do have plans on distracting you.”

Jay shifted his glance on you, letting out a soft chuckle as he stole another kiss on your cheeks before passing by you. He heads towards the corner where a stack of wine is placed. 

“Want some?” he raises the bottle, and you only nod, watching Jay open the bottle and pour on two glasses. He gave you the other one which you mumbled your thanks, taking a little sip on it, while Jay continued his cooking. 

“This is nice,” you hummed. “This is new.” 

“Never had homemade dinner with him?” Jay asked, and you knew who he was referring to.

You only shake your head. Memories rushing through your mind, thinking about the dates you and Yeonjun had. Some were grandeur, while some were plain. Most of the time you two would go to coffee shops and study your hearts out. It was quiet and tranquil, and productive too. 

Your mind shifted to Yoomi’s words a few days ago, how you were so focused with your academics — wondering if it was also the cause of your relationship’s downfall. That may be the reason why Yeonjun cheated you with Yoomi. 

You mindlessly took a sip on the wine as you pondered your thoughts, not noticing the way Jay kept on glancing at you. 

“Sorry I brought it up,” Jay blurted out, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“It’s okay, just had a little pondering,” you smiled. 

“I don’t mind listening,” Jay said, still busying himself with his cooking. 

“I think I’m the problem,” you mumbled. “It didn’t surprise me that Yeonjun left me, I’m plain, introvert, and a bit tamed — I always prioritise my studies over anything else, and maybe Yeonjun felt like he’s not a huge part of my life that’s why he left —”

“That doesn’t excuse him cheating and Yoomi going behind your back,” Jay said. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and I admire that you have your goal set. It’s Yeonjun’s problem that he couldn’t accept that.” 

You only bitterly laugh as Jay’s words felt comforting, you can hear from his tone that he was defensive about you which you were glad that he was. 

“Let’s just forget about them alright? Tonight’s about us,” Jay insisted, and you let him be. 

Dinner felt more special especially when Jay took his time plating the dish as he served it in front of you. His smile never leaves his lips as he watches you take a bite from the steak. You could only hum as you took another bite while Jay, who’s in front of you, is waiting for your words. 

“God I should just marry you,” you blurted out. “How do you even cook so good?” 

“Just some basic skills,” Jay nonchalantly said, making you chuckle.

Dinner continued on, with Jay bringing the wine you two were drinking earlier, accompanied by a heavenly molten cake that he bought from a local pastry shop. The night became deeper as your conversation became endless as you two moved towards the kitchen where the cake and wine remained while you helped Jay with the dishes. 

The dishes were on the rack but you and Jay remained in the kitchen, conversation never fading as you two shifted from one topic to another. 

“Okay, I want you to be honest,” you laughed, a bit tipsy with the amount of wine you had drank. “Did you find it cringe when I said that fate will find a way for us to meet?”

“Cringe? No, but confused, yeah a bit,” Jay confessed. “Maybe it was a mind game of yours but I was really confused how you rely on fate —”

“So you don’t believe in fate!” you pointed out, laughter becoming loud. 

Jay became quiet for a moment, “actually, I did slowly believe in fate, you know that I was supposed to pass by your building? You know, just in case I bumped into you. But it seems like fate made it easier and I found you halfway.”

That’s when you stopped, realizing that Jay’s words had become serious.

“You really searched for me, didn’t you?” you asked with a soft tone. “You really don’t want to rely on fate, won’t you?”

“Why wait for the universe to make a move when I can do it by myself?” 

At that moment the atmosphere became heavy. Suddenly, you felt tense. 

Jay’s sharp gaze remained at you, observing you in every possible way and he couldn’t help but to curse under his breath. Your eyes that were staring at him were so innocent that he wondered where’s the girl who made him chase the game. 

His hand slowly trailed to your cheeks, he watched whether you'd flinch or not – but you stood there, eyes never leaving his. 

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes. “And I won’t do it.”

Your heart skips a beat hearing those words. Your mind started to be clouded by thoughts. This is it. You thought. Doing the worst thing that will crash your ex-best friend’s heart. 

How good will it feel to finally get back to Yoomi? It was the first thing that you thought as you pulled Jay for a kiss, an action so brass but you didn’t care. You’ve waited long for this. 

Jay responded to your kiss softly. Savoring your lips, as he tastes the lingering chocolate you two had earlier. He gently grabbed you on your waist as he pushed you lightly against the counter, closing the proximity between the two of you. This is way different from the first time you two kissed, something about it felt intense, as if you two are dying to taste each other. 

The kiss broke in just a few seconds, you were catching your breath as Jay trailed his lips from your mouth down to your jawline. Peppering soft kisses which left you even more breathless. You can feel his hands playing around the hem of your blouse. Slipping underneath as you felt his hot hands carefully climbing upwards your chest. 

“Jay —” you called out but you couldn’t even bother to finish your sentence. 

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” he assured between his kisses. 

“I don’t think we should do it here,” you managed to finish your sentence making Jay stop. 

He looked at you with wide eyes, and you felt nervous, wondering if you ruined the atmosphere. But Jay only chuckles as he sealed your lips with his. “If that’s what my girl wants.” 

He pulled you out of the kitchen and rushed towards his bedroom. As you two reach the entrance, he opens the door and gestures for you to come inside like some gentleman he is. You only laughed as you walked past through him, but you shortly let out a yelp as he smacked your ass in the process.

You hear Jay chuckle as he closes and locks the bedroom door. 

“Not funny,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes. 

“Aw, come here pretty girl,” he grabs your face and kisses you once again. 

You didn’t hold back either. You kissed him back with much intensity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, the same way he grabs you by your waist. 

Jay shifted for a second to pull off his top and your eyes went wide by his action. You always knew that Jay’s physique was good, you can see it from his fitted polo shirts and tank tops, but god, seeing it up close just brought heaven to you. 

Your eyes wandered to his chest down to his abs which you unconsciously trailed with your fingers. God he’s so fucking hot. Despite the room being dim-lighted, you can still see how good his body was. You couldn’t help but to bite your lips as your touch lingered to his body. 

“Eyes up here,” Jay calls out, and as you glance at him once again, he traps you with his kiss. 

You two continued to make out, lips never leaving each other as you started to unbutton your blouse. Discarding it somewhere in the room before you placed your arms around Jay once again. As you two found the edge of his bed, Jay pulled you towards him, forcing you to sit on his lap as you two didn’t stop. 

Jay trailed his lips down to your neck, making you whimper lightly. He bites down at any bare skin, sucking and licking it that you’re sure he was leaving hickeys on it. You let him be, imagining how scandalous it will be for you to show up in class with your neck full of marks. 

You could only moan in pleasure as you let Jay continue abusing your neck. That’s when you focused on your pleasure, finding Jay’s hard on nearby your clothed cunt. You start grinding on it, trying to find friction despite the layers covered. 

“You’re eager for me, pretty girl?” he whispered huskily. You didn’t say a word, you continued grinding on him when you felt his hands on your waist. 

“Couldn’t even say a word huh?” That's when Jay’s hands shifted on your bra, removing its clasp and exposing your bare chest in front of him.

Jay didn’t waste any time, he grabs you by your waist and places you down on his bed. He traps you in between his legs, hovering over you as he stares at you lovingly. 

Something in your mind stroked you. The thought that Jay — Yoomi’s first love — is on top of you, looking at you like you’re his everything. It fueled a fire in you, you feel your pride swelling as you lightly cup his cheeks once again. That’s when it hit you — everything is real. 

“You’re nervous?” he asked,  holding your hands that were cupping his cheeks.

You shake your head as an answer. You watched as Jay removed your hands and kissed it with much tenderness. Your heart started to beat fast. The room’s temperature started to rise, but you were left there speechless as Jay leaned on to you to kiss you on the lips. 

“I’ll take care of you, don't worry,” he whispered as if it’s your first time. 

It’s actually your first time after your break-up. You lost trust in romance and intimacy after what happened. And you never thought that you'd go this far. Will it be worth letting yourself bare in front of a man? You pondered whether if it wasn’t getting back to Yoomi, would you still have sex with Jay?

You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Jay’s touch lingered on your breast. He cups it without any hesitation, playing your nipples as he pinches your left one, making you moan. 

“Let out those sounds baby,” he said. “I need to hear you.”

Jay latches on your right nipple, sucking it harshly as you whimper under his touch. He continued to take his time playing with your breast which only leaves you breathless yet wanting more. He took things slowly but you couldn’t avoid the aching feeling between your thighs. You tried to buck your hips upward, trying to find friction on his body.

“Jay —” you called out before a sharp moan escaped your lips. Jay continued sucking your breast with hunger as his hands pinned you down from moving. 

“Be a good girl for me, won’t you?” That's when Jay unbuttons your pants, pulling it downward and leaving you in your underwear. You unconsciously close your legs, embarrassed as you feel bare in front of Jay. But you were surprised when Jay pulled you closer to him, hands gripping on your thighs as he pushed your legs wider. 

“Don’t be shy now, come on, let me make you feel good.” 

Jay said it so gently like he whispered a spell on you, you slowly spread your legs wider. Giving him access to your clothed pussy. Your breath hitches as his fingers feathered around the wet patch of your panties. Pressing his fingers to it, making you whimper. 

“You’re already wet for me? We barely even started,” he teased. 

“Jay — please,” you pleaded. “Please, let me feel you inside me.” 

As much as Jay wanted to, he wanted to savor you first. His fingers snapped through the waistband, glancing at you as if he was asking for your permission. You only nod, feeling dazed already as Jay removes your underwear, eyes locked at your dripping cunt. 

You let out a small whimper as you felt his fingers trailing through your pussy lips, gathering your wetness as he gazed at it hungrily. And it didn’t take you a second to process that he swipes his tongue on his fingers.

“Taste fucking good,” Jay cursed. “Can I?”

You mindlessly nod, and with that, Jay dives down to your warm core.

You let out a small mewl as you felt Jay’s tongue swiping through your core. Lapping at its lips like he was starving for it. Jay’s tongue harshly tasted every inch of your pussy that you couldn’t do anything but to writhe under his mouth. His hands gripped on your thighs tightly, holding you from moving as he continued to taste you. 

“You’re so sweet for me,” Jay whispered. You could only moan in pleasure as he latches onto your pussy once again, feeling his tongue inside you as his nose brushes lightly against your clit. You couldn’t help but to grab Jay’s hair, grinding against his face as you moan his name. 

That’s when you feel it. The coil inside your stomach tightening, a raspy groan escaping your lips as your hold on Jay’s hair tightens.

“J-jay, I’m gonna —” you couldn’t even finish your sentence. Too lost in pleasure as Jay’s tongue continued to abuse your insides. 

“Gonna cum for me baby?” Jay mumbled, kissing your clit as he swipes his tongue through your core. “Come on, cum.”

That’s when you felt something snapped. Jay devours you as a muted moan leaves your mouth. You can feel the tears rolling down, too lost in pleasure as Jay eats you out to your orgasm. 

Your legs were shaking from the aftermath. Eyes drowsy as you felt yourself tired from the feeling. It didn’t register that Jay had crawled over you, kissing you on the lips which you could only whimper back. You can taste yourself as you kiss him back, his hands cupping your cheeks lightly as your lips find each other. 

“My girl did so good,” Jay whispered to you, kissing you on your cheeks as he lightly chuckled.

That’s when you felt the courage. Hands trailing on his stomach downwards where his obvious boner was. You lightly palmed his bulge, which earned a groan from Jay. 

“My turn,” you told him, and before you could move, Jay stopped you. 

“You don’t need to,” he said. “Tonight is all about you.” 

“Then, let me ride you Jay,” you proposed instead. 

“If that’s what you want baby,” Jay kisses you before pulling you out of the bed. 

You two switched positions, Jay settled on his back as he watched you tug his sweatpants, glancing at him before pulling it downwards along with his boxer. 

Jay’s cock springs upwards, hard and girthy. Beads of pre-cum leaking from its tip. You curse under your breath as you wrap your hands around it, stroking it lightly, making Jay’s breathing uneven. 

It was stupid of yours to compare Jay’s dick from Yeonjun’s as you continue to stroke it. Sure, your ex’ dick was big but he was a bigger dick. And the only thing in your mind right now is that you’ll get to feel Jay’s cock inside you — and your bitch of an ex-best friend couldn’t. Yoomi can enjoy Yeonjun’s dick as much as she wants. While you? You’re going to ride Jay’s cock like there’s no tomorrow.

That’s why you hastily placed yourself on top of Jay, your pussy just enough to feather against Jay’s cock. You decided to test the waters, grinding your pussy against his cock,  a whimper escaping your lips along with Jay’s harsh moans. You continuously moved your hips in a slow motion, creating a heavy tension between you and Jay. 

You can feel his hands finding its way to your waist. You glanced at Jay who only bit his lips — you knew, he was controlling himself. That’s when you grabbed his cock, eyes never leaving Jay who watched you lustfully. You lifted your hips, aligning his cock on your entrance. Slowly, you sink into his dick, a choked moan leaving your lips as you can feel yourself full with his dick barely halfway inside. 

As if you needed some help, Jay thrust his hips upwards, making you moan as his cock slid inside you with ease. You hold onto his stomach as you try to support from the sensation. 

“So — full,” you choked as you grind against his cock, taking time to adjust to its size.

“You’re taking me so well, pretty girl,” Jay mumbled, slapping your ass which made you flinch. “Too big for your tight pussy? Can you even take it?”

You only glared at Jay as he lazily smirks at you. That’s when you started to buck your hips. Slowly you rise your hips enough for his tip to remain inside you. You slammed yourself down, making you whimper in pleasure. You continued to ride Jay, bouncing on his cock at a pace that leaves you full as his tip continued to slide your insides, stabbing your cervix that had you choking on your breath. 

“You look so beautiful from here,” Jay stated in between his moans. You can feel his hips bucking upwards, finding his own pleasure as you two meet halfway. Jay’s right hand grips on your waist to support you while his left hand trailed upwards to play with your breast, pinching your left nipple that had you arching your back. Head rolling as you fasten your pace.

And as you looked down at him, you saw Jay’s fucked-out expression. The way his hands grip tightly on your waist, his stomach stiffening as he breathy moans escape his lips. You loved the way his brows furrowed in aggression, you can feel his dick twitching inside you as you continued to ride him. 

“And you look so gorgeous from up here,” you teased, leaning towards him to plant a kiss on forehead. You lightly chuckled as Jay's expression never faltered, and if it wasn’t enough for you, you shifted to grind on his dick instead, leaving him grunting and gasping for more. 

Your hands found its way to his cheeks, lightly cupping it as you placed soft kisses all over his face — except his lips. 

“You’re — a fucking m-menace,” Jay said between his groans, making you chuckle.

He’s right. You're a menace. Because as you grind your hips to find more pleasure, all you can think about is how fucked-out Jay was, and it’s because of you. God knows what will happen if Yoomi finds out about this. 

And that’s what you wanted to happen. To show to Yoomi that you had Jay under you, writhing and gasping submissively as you continue to abuse his dick. Sex has always been an intimate moment for you, but now, all you can think about is how good your ex-best friend’s first love’s cock is. Have you known that his dick was this good, you would have agreed the first time he asked you out. 

You started bouncing once again, making Jay roll his head deep on the pillows. A loud moan leaves his lips which make you smile beneath him. That’s when you started attacking his neck, licking and biting on every spot your tongue latches to. 

But it didn’t take long for the pleasure to reach you. You let out a choked moan as you can feel your walls tightening. The feeling of your stomach coiling as your second orgasm is coming, your pace becomes sloppy but you continue to bounce on his dick, trying to chase your orgasm before your stamina fails you. 

“Need some help, pretty girl?” Jay asked, now both of his hands are on your waist as he continuously bucked his hips upwards.

But that only fueled your pride, you rested your hands on his chest, pushing him down further the mattress as you rode his cock faster. The room becomes more hot, only your soft moans and bodies slapping onto each other can be heard.

Jay continued to thrust upwards, his hands tightening as he can feel his dick twitching inside you — indicating that he’s near too. 

“So c-close, baby —” Jay chokes, eyes shut down but he never stops thrusting inside you. 

“M-me too,” you barely said. Your legs are about to give up, but Jay’s thrust had you put his dick in the perfect angle — just right on your spot. 

And as he abused your insides, you let out a choked moan, grasping on Jay’s stomach for support. 

“Jay —”

“I got you pretty girl,” Jay’s thrust became harsher, faster than before. 

Your second orgasm came inside you like a wave. You can feel your legs twitching as Jay fucked you through it. Your pussy tightening around his dick, sucking it so harshly that his thrust became sloppy. 

“T-too much —” you whispered, falling on his chest as tears started to fall. Your second orgasm hasn’t come down but Jay continued to thrust his dick inside you. 

“Hold it in pretty girl won’t you?” Jay mumbled, kissing you as he continued to thrust inside you.

Jay’s breathing becomes unstable as he continues to pound inside you. You could only hold on his shoulder as you cry through the overstimulation. Everything about you felt more sensitive, especially when Jay’s dick continued to hit your spot. 

And with one harsh thrust, Jay came inside you. You let out a moan as you feel his seeds spilling inside you. Jay sloppily thrusts inside, chasing after his orgasm as he paints your walls white.

The room became silent. Only harsh breathing can be heard. That’s when you felt Jay kissing your head as he lightly brushes your hair. His hands never left your waist but instead, he wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you even more closer — not minding that you two are sticky and sweaty. 

You two remained in that position, he’s still inside you and you snuggly let it be. Feeling his warm cock inside you made you feel full and maybe — you’re just too tired to care about anything.

“We should clean up,” Jay was the first to break the silence. You lifted your head and glanced at him amusingly. Jay only smiles as he kisses your lips. 

“But I’m comfortable here,” you pouted. 

“As much as I am too, we need to clean you up especially that I came inside you,” he explained. 

“I’m on a pill Jay, don’t worry,” you mumbled. 

“Just stay here pretty girl,” he places you down on the bed, pulling out from you which makes you whimper from the loss.

Jay lightly chuckles as he leaves you alone to go to his bathroom.

As you lay on his bed, you couldn’t help but to think about what just happened. Your eyes never left the ceiling as the silence devoured you. 

You suddenly felt dirty, and it’s not because you can Jay’s cum spilling out of you. It disgusted you that you had sex with someone, and while you were comfortable with Jay, it just sank into your mind that you. Just. Had. Sex. — something that you had been avoiding ever since your breakup. 

You know that you weren’t ready, some wounds about intimacy still lingers inside you. But you did it, and you did it out of spite and pettiness. Which is far from the sex that you always yearn for. 

You pulled yourself up, sitting on the bed as your hands trailed on your naked body. Feeling every inch that Jay saw underneath his dim room. You were shaken by the thought that you didn’t notice that Jay had returned. 

Jay turns on the lampshade, but it was enough for him to see the panicked expression of yours. Hurriedly, he approaches you, sinking on the bed as he stares at you. 

“You’re crying,” Jay tried to swipe off the tears but you flinched, making him withdraw. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, feeling like an idiot as you aggressively wiped the tears aways. “I didn’t — I don’t know what got in me.” 

“Did I hurt you? Oh my god, I’m sorry if I was being too rough —”

“No! No you didn’t,” you assured, grabbing his hands and squeezing it lightly. You let out a deep sigh before giving him a smile. “You were gentle to me Jay. it’s just — It’s just I had a hard time accepting intimacy from others and I was just shocked that we had sex.” 

“Is it because of your ex?” he asked softly. 

You only nod, “yeah, I just lost trust in romance and intimacy but here I am.” 

Jay became quiet for a minute. Heart beating with guilt as he looks at you with a worried expression. You only chuckle lightly as you squeezed his hands again. 

“I enjoyed the sex Jay, I was just overwhelmed suddenly,” you assured once again. “If it makes you feel better, because of you, I am slowly starting to trust romance once again.” 

“I’m glad that I can make you feel safe again,” Jay said with a genuine tone. He leans to give you a quick kiss on your lips. “Come on now, let me take care of you.”

After cleaning your body and changing into some new clothes, you and Jay snuggled underneath the new sheets he put on. His arms wrapped around your body while you lean against his chest.

You two remained in that position. You can feel nothing but his heart beating at a rapid speed, making you smile a bit. Jay’s hands brushing your hair as if he was lulling you to sleep. 

“Y/n,” he called out, you only hummed in response. 

“I like you…like genuinely,” he mumbled, pulling you closer to his touch. “I just want to say that because I’m afraid that you think that I took you out on multiple dates just to have sex with you.” 

You didn’t say a word, you remained frozen as Jay continued brushing your hair. 

“I didn’t even plan this, I just want to cook you dinner,” Jay lightly chuckles. “You don’t have to say anything though. I know that you’re not ready for a serious relationship, but I’m content with what we have.” 

And with that, Jay kisses the top of your head.

“Goodnight y/n.”

The room became silent. You had assumed Jay had drifted to sleep while you remained there, eyes wide with heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay’s words had pierced through your heart and it left you confused, wondering where your stand is now. 

It was clear that you still have issues about your past. But with how quick you were to open to Jay, you’re now thinking if some of your actions were genuine and not just because you did it out of spite and revenge. 

But you weren’t able to draw your conclusion that night. Minutes into your pondering, your eyes became heavy — drifting you to sleep. 

-

Your relationship with Jay has become a newsworthy gossip that students can talk about aside from their studies. So what happens when the two of you attend the Decelis a few days later with hickeys and bite marks all over your necks? It added fuel to the fire of course.

“I thought it’s not obvious, I worked hard to cover it this morning,” you complained. 

“It’s a bit visible but what surprised you is Jay, he is wearing it like a badge of honor,” Yunjin shared and you could only let out a sigh. 

You should be proud about it. You shouldn’t have covered it with makeup because you wanted to show Yoomi that you had sex with Jay. Jay’s shameless about sleeping with you, and you should be happy because it’ll just irritate Yoomi more, but you only felt nothing but a gut-wrenching feeling about it.

Perhaps Jay’s words still linger in your mind. The next morning, Jay acted like nothing happened, he even cooked you breakfast. Of course, there were subtle changes like the way Jay became more affectionate to you but it just drags you even more. 

How long can you stretch this plan of yours? Jay was serious about you, while you…you don’t even know where your stand is. You could only mindlessly brush your hair in front to hide your marks before exiting the girls’ restroom. 

As you enter your classroom, you can feel the stabbing glares from your former friends. You ignored the way they gave you a disgusted look as you sat on the last row along with Yunjin. 

Yoomi then enters the classroom, her feet stomping heavily like she wanted to have her presence known. You only lowered your head as you opened your Ipad to check any missed readings for today’s course.

You didn’t need to lift your head to know that you’re being talked to by Yoomi, the whispers were loud enough and you could hear the snarky remarks from them. Followed by a few laughter and comments of how ‘shameless’ you are to show up in class with indecent marks on your neck. 

It’s as if Yoomi didn’t do that too many times to count. But of course, that’ll never cross their mind.

Soon, the professor entered the classroom and the class fell into silence. You focused your attention on your professor’s lecture, tapping lightly on your apple pen to focus. 

All you want to do after is to rest and sleep even though it’s only a Tuesday. You feel your body weary and tired. All the energy from dating Jay had already drained out from you and you’re thinking of maybe ditching him just for a week.

You were walking like a zombie as you exited the building when Yunjin suddenly grabbed your arms harshly. 

“What —” you weren’t able to ask when your eye caught the scene. 

Yoomi’s talking to Jay. She’s saying something that you knew isn’t pleasant because of the way Jay’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“Should you —” Yunjin wasn’t able to finish her sentence when you snapped your arms from her touch and approached the two. 

“Jay,” you called out, catching the attention of the two. 

“Oh there she is,” Yoomi said with a mocking tone. “I was just telling Jay about the truth.”

You furrowed your forehead. “What are you talking about?”

“That you’re dating him just to get back to me,” Yoomi said with full confidence. 

You laughed in disbelief, trying to cover your nervous heart as you watched Yoomi’s face turn confused. 

“Why would I even do that? Come on Yoomi, we’re in college, not in high school. Things like that are so immature,” you smoothly said, even shrugging to make yourself more convincing. 

“You know I like Jay! What else would you date him huh!?” Yoomi said frustratedly. You didn’t expect her to immediately be frustrated about it.

“To meet new people?” you stated with obvious. “You think I’ll just let myself be depressed after my breakup? We’re just casually seeing each other, nothing more.” 

“You think I’m stupid!? Everyone knows that you’re not even ready for a relationship, so why are you suddenly seeing Jay —”

“Just stop please,” Jay rebutted, making you glance at him. 

“I know you Yoomi, just stop with the nonsense, okay? I like y/n, and there’s nothing you can do about it,” Jay explained.

You can see the way Yoomi’s smile dropped. The way Jay talked to her like she’s a lost puppy being chased away. You wanted to smile, maybe smirked at her just to get back to her but you composed yourself instead.

Jay grabs your hand and the two of you leave the scene. You turned around and eyed Yunjin who only gave you a thumbs up.

While Yoomi? She stood there shocked. 

You two reached his car. As you two went inside the vehicle that’s when your heart started to beat nervously. Jay was utterly quiet and his serious expression still hasn’t melted. You gave him a glance before you looked down.

Jay quietly turns on the engine of the car. Not one of you had spoken, and the car had been in utter silence throughout the whole drive. You didn’t notice that you reached your apartment until Jay parked the car in front of it, you remained seated in the passenger seat, waiting for his next move.  

“Tell me that it wasn’t true,” Jay spoke, breaking the ice. 

“Why didn’t you ask me that earlier?” you asked instead. 

“I don’t want to give Yoomi the satisfaction that she won,” Jay clicks his tongue. “I know that you hate her so much and maybe, what she’s saying is true.” 

You could only glance at the window. Not now. You always thought that your plan would be foolproof. Everything is so casual that Jay wouldn’t suspect a thing. That the truth won’t come out and you’ll bring it to your grave. 

Yoomi really has to ruin everything. And you don’t have the heart to lie to Jay too.

“It's true,” you confessed, sinking deeper into the leather seats. 

You can see the way Jay’s jaw slacked. His hands on the wheels tightened. “So when I approached you at the bar —”

“I recognized you, you were Yoomi’s first love, and I don’t know why I let my pettiness decide that maybe, it’s not a bad idea to date you just to shove Yoomi that she can’t have you.”

“So you use me?” Jay pointed out

“Not really,” you mumbled. “Jake told me —”

“Jake knows!?”

“And he told me to not hurt you!” you shouted. “Because you’re Jake’s friend and I don’t want to hurt you! Yes, I always thought that this was a bad idea but I just can’t sit all day seeing Yoomi happy with Yeonjun while I suffer even though they’re the ones who hurt me! That’s why I dated you because you approached me first which is something that Yoomi never experienced!”

You were catching your breath as you shut your eyes down, preventing the tears from falling down. You can feel your hands becoming cold, heart beating in a rapid manner that you don’t know if it’s the nervous breakdown or just you processing your word vomit. 

“So none of what we had was true?” you froze for a moment. Opening your eyes to look at Jay who’s staring at you. You became locked in his deep gaze as his question kept replaying in your mind — it was something that you’ve been pondering ever since you had your date with Jay. 

Were you mixing your emotions with your intention? Has there been any moment where you’re with Jay that felt real and you didn’t have Yoomi on your mind? As you kept on staring at Jay you only felt nothing but guilt for hurting him. 

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “I don’t know Jay, we were supposed to be casual.”

“So you never had feelings for me? What happened a few nights ago, it wasn’t real?” Jay asked once again, voice cracking at the end. 

“From the start Jay, you knew that I’m not ready for a serious relationship,” you pointed out, tone becoming serious.

“You didn’t answer my question y/n, do you even like me?” 

And you didn’t leave your gaze at him. His eyes were pleading, desperate to get an answer from you. You frustratedly brushed your hair, tugging it harshly to keep you sane. 

“I’m sorry Jay, I just don’t know what love feels like anymore,” you answered honestly. “How can you think about whether I like you or not, when I hurt you?” 

“I didn’t care about that, use me whatever you want, I don’t care anymore,” Jay breathes, his tone becoming more desperate. “I don’t want to lose you again.” 

You only shake your head in disagreement. “Jay, you’re just hurting yourself even more. You can’t love someone who’s still broken from her past relationship. See how much Yoomi hurted me? You don’t know how much I was praying for her downfall and when you walked into my life — you were the answer to my prayer.” 

“That doesn’t matter, I wanted to help you if it’ll make you happy. Just let me be there for you —”

“Jay,” you gave him a bitter smile. “You deserve a girl that’s full enough to reciprocate your feelings. I can’t give you that.”

“You’re pushing me away?”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. “The cat’s out of the bag isn’t it? There’s no reason for me to keep on seeing you.” 

“Please y/n —”

“I can’t continue doing this especially when you know the truth, it just hurts both of us.”

You didn’t let Jay say another word. You quickly opened the door of his car and ran towards your apartment. You didn’t even bother looking back at his car, you went straight towards the elevator, pressing the 3rd button rapidly.

As soon as you reached your apartment, door shutting down lightly, you removed your shoes and walked sheepishly towards the living room. It didn’t take you to reach the couch for you to break down. Knees weakening as you let the tears fall down. 

If everything was just for revenge, then why are you crying? If everything wasn’t real for you, then why does it hurt more than what Yoomi and Yeonjun did to you? You feel so tired and helpless as you sit on the ground, regretting everything that you have done. 

Maybe you shouldn't have interfered with karma and let them do their own things. Maybe if you weren’t so impatient, then you would’ve just waited for Yoomi’s downfall. Good things come to those who wait, right? The universe must really hate you so much that it backfired on you immediately. 

As those thoughts sinked in your mind, tears continued to fall. You were sobbing so hard that you didn’t hear the door opening. 

“Y/n!? We just saw Jay’s car leaving —”

Yunjin and Jake stopped when they saw you on the floor. You turned around to them and both felt deja vu. It’s the same look that you had when you caught Yoomi and Yeonjun. 

“I’m sorry Jake,” it was the first thing that you said. “I hurt Jay —”

Jake didn’t say a word. Instead, he walks towards you to pull you to a hug, making you sob harder as you can feel his hands patting your back. And as if it wasn’t enough, Yunjin approached you too and wrapped her arms around your back. Her head leaning against your shoulder as she brushes your hair to calm you down.

-

The following day, you show up to the class like it was a normal day. Thanking Yunjin’s makeup skills to help you conceal any fragments that show that you cried. The classroom was full already, the back row seat left unoccupied which you and Yunjin sat on.

“He won’t stop?” Yunjin whispered, eyeing your phone screen. There were no notifications, but your wallpaper of you standing in front of the jellyfish aquarium remained. That photo was taken by Jay. 

Jay hasn't stopped sending you a message since yesterday. He wanted to talk to you, maybe he was asking for closure or something but you had enough. — and yet, instead of blocking Jay’s number, you put your phone notifications on silent mode.

“He already did,” the last time Jay sent you a message was this morning. Saying he won’t bother you anymore because Jake told him so, but he’ll be waiting for your message. 

“You won’t talk to him anymore?” your friend asked. 

You only shake your head, “I can’t face him anymore.” 

Yunjin didn’t say a word, she simply nodded as she gave you an assuring pat on the back, making you chuckle. 

As the day continued, you couldn’t help but dart your eyes on Yoomi in the middle of the class. She's seated on the second row like the good student she was, jotting down notes on her notebook, even interrupting the professor’s lecture at any chance that she could to ask questions or give her insights. 

You always knew that her intentions of telling Jay was out of jealousy, but what did she gain from it? Did she want you to suffer more? There were multiple times that it crossed your mind why Yoomi did it to you. And this isn’t just about Jay, it’s also about Yeonjun. What does Yoomi even want from you? 

“So I was right? You did use Jay,” and maybe, your questions may be answered when Yoomi approaches you first. Not half of the class had left the room and she’s already cornering you. 

“You won’t leave me alone, won’t you?” you snarled, feeling irritated than ever. You didn’t mind that there were audiences that were watching, your old friends near the teacher’s table, waiting for Yoomi, while Yunjin stood beside you. 

“Just admit it y/n.” 

“Don’t push me Yoomi, you had the fucking audacity to approach and taunt me when you’ve done worst things to me,” you barked at her. 

“That’s why it makes sense that you used Jay, to get back to me right!? You knew from the start —”

“Yoomi, I’m telling you this now while I’m being rational, but I don’t give a fuck about you anymore from the moment I saw you at Yeonjun’s dorm, and you should stop giving a shit about me and my life. You have Yeonjun, right? And even if you two are not together, you will never have a chance with Jay.” 

“So, that makes you better than me? Because Jay likes you?” she scoffed, but you can hear in her tone that she was hurt. 

Your forehead creased, “this isn’t some competition Yoomi, you have everything, Yeonjun, our friends — and maybe wake up for once, the universe doesn’t revolve around you.” 

“You don’t understand y/n is that Jay is the only person that I had loved ever since junior high, do you know how much it hurts that no matter what I do, he just doesn’t look at me? And then you came along and suddenly he’s all over you. What did Yeonjun and Jay see in you? I don’t understand.” She vented out. 

Never would you think that Yoomi would be insecure about you. You always see yourself as a normal college girl. Decent looks, smart enough to get a decent average, and a bit introverted. There’s not much thrill in your life aside from partying on Friday night on rare occasions. You blend on the walls just like you want to. 

Yoomi is different. She’s everything. She’s pretty, always has the cutest aesthetic. Had an impressive track record of grades, and extra-curricular. She’s also an active student in Decelis, her organizations are too many to count, and everyone knows and likes her. 

Yoomi has the spotlight, then why on earth is she still after your shadow? Even after stealing everyone from you, it’s still not enough for her.

“That’s not my problem anymore Yoomi,” you told her, tone becoming colder. “It’s not my fault that not everyone find you lovable.” 

Yoomi gasped. Her eyes started to water. It shocked her when those words came out of your mouth. She has been used to praises, to people showering her with love. Yoomi thinks that she can still manipulate you, but that’s where her assumptions went wrong. Now, it was a wrong move to confront you — especially when your bottled-up hatred for her can burst out any minute. 

“That was harsh y/n,” she mumbled, trying to hold back her tears. 

“You shouldn’t have provoked me,” you angrily said. “You want me to admit it? Fine, I did date Jay for fun, and he was such a dream. The dates, his affection – god he was such a gentleman, and the sex? It was so fucking good, and he looks so fucking hot underneath me.”

Yoomi rendered speechless, mouth open as she was shaking due to shock while you only stared at her angrily. 

“And even after telling him the truth — everything, he still wants me. He still came back running after me. You think that telling him the truth yesterday will make him look at you? Congrats because he did, but that was because he was annoyed by you.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m done with him, maybe this time you can have him, since you like picking up the trash that I threw just like what you did with Yeonjun,” you gave Yoomi a smile. “Just remember this one, Yeonjun settled on you because you’re a naive girl who’ll throw herself at any guy that looks at her. You want to know our differences? I know my worth while you’re pathetic because you crave for any guy’s attention.” 

That’s when Yoomi burst into tears, loud and harsh that it made you scoff in disbelief. You only signaled Yunjin to leave, making her grab her bag as you and her watch your old friends circle around Yoomi, comforting her and shooting glares at you. You didn’t bother glancing at them as you and Yunjin walked out of the room.

Did it lift off a weight from your shoulder? No, you felt yourself more slumped than ever, thoughts were running through your mind as you exited the building. You glanced at Yunjin who placed her arms around your shoulder, shaking you lightly as you two began walking towards the university gate. 

“She’s such a drama queen,” Yunjin said with an annoyed tone. “But I didn’t expect you to be so harsh.”

“That’s light for me, I could’ve said worse,” you stated. Your attention shifted up to the sky to see that dark clouds had become to cover the blue sky. Your lips turn into a straight line as you think about how the sky is sharing its empathy with you. 

The weather in Decelis had become gloomy. The rainy season had started and the cold temperature seemed like a hug that you needed. 

Days after the confrontation, class has been suspended due to strong rainstorms. It was a perfect time for you to ponder about your senior year. Stuck inside your apartment flat with both your roommates, you found solace in the loud raindrops drizzling on the street.

You sat on the wooden chair, legs stretched on railings of the balcony. You were listening to some music on your phone with a half-lit stick of cigarette between your fingers. It was a rare case for you to smoke, only during your night outs wherein you need to sober up before going home. But in these moments, you feel like you need to take a few smokes to relieve your stress. 

“Hey,” you turned around immediately to hear a masculine voice. Seeing Jake in his hoodie and pajamas, his hair a mess and he’s not wearing his glasses. 

“Should I stop?” you asked, raising the stick, but your roommate only shook his head, sitting on the empty chair beside you and also raising his legs on the railings. 

“You seem to be lost in thoughts, like a poet stuck in a writer’s block,” Jake teases, making you laugh. 

“Wish that’s my problem,” you only let out a sigh before blowing a few puffs. 

“Why, still feel guilty about what happened?” he asked, and this time, you shake your head.

“I just wonder if Yoomi ever thought of me as a friend,” you confessed. “Or someone who she competes discreetly.” 

Jake didn’t say a word, he only stared at you as if he was waiting for more. 

“It’s not hard to wonder about it, after all, we were friends for two years and a half too. So I wonder, during those years, did she ever treat me as her friend?” 

“Well, do you regret your friendship with her?” Jake asked you. 

“It’s hard to think about it when all I can feel about her is hate,” you admitted. “Maybe my talk with her a few days just gave me a clarification that she was insecure about me, then it struck me if she ever treated me as a friend.”

“Well, friends don’t steal their friend’s boyfriend,” your roommate pointed out, making you glance at him. “That surely answers your question.” 

You didn’t say a thing. Jake’s right, that should’ve been the clue. And to think that Yoomi never brought up why you cut her off and all she can point out was that you dated Jay shows that she never valued your friendship — not even once. 

You flicked off the butt of the cigarette stick and placed it on the railings. You wanted to smoke another stick but you sat on the chair instead, deeply immersed with the rain. 

“You know, Jay is still waiting for you,” Jake opened up.

But he was only met with silence from you. 

“You know you can’t avoid everything right?” Jake pointed out. “You’re like this with Yoomi and Yeonjun, and while you had a valid reason to not confront them, Jay’s different, you left him alone in the dark.”

There it is. You hate that Jake was able to pick it up. You know that you became avoidant to people ever since you got betrayed. You kept your circle small, afraid that the more you let people in your life, the more chances they’ll hurt you.

When Yeonjun and Yoomi went behind your back, you didn’t bother asking for any explanation. Completely cutting the two off because you know that it’ll hurt more if you hear their side. And whatever shitty reason they can come up will deem useless. 

Jay on the other hand, entered your life because you wanted revenge. But before he could hurt you, you hurt him first — and for you that’s even worse. 

“Jake, I hurt Jay, I can’t even look him in the eyes without feeling any guilt,” you explained. 

“I talked to him a few days ago and he understands where you are coming from, he’s not mad y/n,” Jake added. 

“And is that supposed to make me feel okay?” you whispered. “I don’t know what to feel about everything.”

“It takes time,” your roommate pats your shoulder lightly, giving you a quick smile. “But just so you know, you don’t have to live in hatred forever, who knows, maybe you can learn to love again.”

That’s when you shifted your gaze at Jake, he only gave you a warm smile, making you chuckle bitterly. 

“You think so?”

“I just think that you’ve become happier when Jay was around,” Jake pointed out. “Yunjin can see it too, and you might not notice it because you’re too busy with your revenge, but something shifted when Jay entered your life.”

You were stunned, staring at Jake who shifted his gaze back to the pouring rain. Out of the three of you, Jake has always been the most rational one. He was like a brother to you, and while Yunjin was your chaotic other-half, Jake has always been there to watch over you two. 

“You think I deserve Jay?” you whispered, bare audible.

“I think you deserve someone who will love you so wholly that he’ll pick up every broken piece of you,” Jake replied. “And I know that Jay is that kind of guy.” 

-

Weeks passed and the passing hurt felt now like a blur to you. 

You busied yourself with your subjects, focusing on your academics and papers which was your coping mechanism back then. It was deja vu all over again but rather than letting yourself swallow in guilt, you focused your attention on something else. 

Midterm exams are done, and you managed to pass your requirements with ease despite the stress you’ve been through. Now, you feel like a normal student who’s worried about her academics again. 

The door of the classroom swung open, your professor entered it with a tense atmosphere following her. No greetings or bright smiles, making the room falter in silence. If it wasn’t enough, she slams her essay papers, loud enough to flinch the whole room. 

“I’m so disappointed,” she started. “Twenty-five years of teaching here in Decelis, never would’ve thought that you’ll do this in my course.”

The whole room falls under a few whispers and murmurs. You glanced at Yunjin who merely shrugged. 

“You know that plagiarism is a grave offense in our department? We pride ourselves in our students’ intelligence and perspective but here we are — and it’s not only a few paragraphs, but the whole paper. This is so disappointing,” she grabs the paper, a bit crumpled but you can see the huge ‘X’ mark on the paper. 

“Ms. Han Yoomi,” she declares, making you flinch. You glanced at Yunjin who’s eyes were about to pop out of its socket. Your friend grabs your friend, calming herself from doing something petty, while your mouth forms a small gap as you cover it with your hand. All you could feel was shock, heart thumping like a rabbit’s eager foot. 

“You’re one of our scholars right? Plus, you mentioned that you’re running for honors? This is so disappointing,” your professor shakes her head as she places Yoomi’s paper down. 

Yoomi stood up from her seat way too fast that the chair fell down, causing a loud thud that echoed through the room. But Yoomi couldn’t care less. “Ma’am, I can explain —”

“You can explain it to the Dean Ms. Han, you know the consequences of your action,” she cut off. “Please follow me, and the rest of you, please take your midterm papers and consider my comments for your revisions for the final paper.”

The whole room watched as your professor walked out of the door, while Yoomi stood there frozen. It took a little nudge from her friend for her to move, grabbing her bag as she walked out of the room with her head lay low. When both of them left the room, whispers began to swarm around the classroom, just like you, everyone was surprised that Yoomi would do such a thing. 

“Holy shit!” Yunjin whisper-shouted. “Holy fucking shit! I didn’t expect her to do that!”

“Fuck, what the actual fuck —” you let out a deep breathe, trying to calm yourself. “I can’t believe it, karma’s fucking real.” 

Yunjin only laughs, slapping your arms as you try to conceal your laughter. “No, because that was fucking dumb of her, I can’t believe that she would do that.”

“Right! She always pride herself in writing papers even though her writing fucking sucks, but she plagiarized!? That’s so fucking stupid of her.” 

You know that it was mean. Laughing at someone’s mistake that may cause her academic disruption, but after everything that happened to you? Yoomi will never have a chance to get past an offense that she stupidly did. 

Karma’s finally after her and you know the result of offense. If no appeal were done, she can get suspended and worst — be removed from receiving honors. All her pride and dreams came crashing down in just a glimpse. And the good thing about it was that it’s all her fault. You didn’t have to raise a finger for it to happen. 

You didn’t have to do anything. It slowly sinked in your mind that karma will eventually get back to her. It slumped you that if you had the patience to wait, you didn’t have to involve an innocent person in making your ex-best friend miserable. 

You should be happy that karma got Yoomi, but it was only a passing adrenaline of satisfaction that Yoomi’s idiocracy got back at her. If this is what you’ve been praying for, why does the guilt remain on you?

It’s been weeks and yet, he’s still on your mind. You wonder, is he waiting for you? You hate confrontations. You were never good with words and dealing with people, but you couldn’t help to think about Jay and how you left him in the dark. You know what you have to do. 

You found yourself in front of his apartment door. Hands shaking and heart beating at an abnormal pace. Jay had agreed to talk to you, and that means there’s no turning back now. You pressed the doorbell and after a few rings, the door swung open. 

You stood there frozen, seeing Jay in a large t-shirt and sweatpants, hair disheveled like he just woke up. Your words got stuck on your throat, an awkward atmosphere hovering between the two of you. 

“I —”

“Come in,” he said with a soft tone which made your heart skip a beat. Your foot moved on its own and entered his apartment, removing your shoes as you Jay waited for you. 

“So,” Jay started as soon as you two reached the living room, clearing his throat. “What is it that you want to talk about?”

You only fiddled with your fingers, looking down because you can’t even face Jay. “Yoomi, got suspended today for plagiarising her midterm paper.” 

“What?” Jay asked, disbelief. 

“She got a two week suspension and got stripped off from her scholarship,” you added. “I should be happy because karma finally got her, but somehow it didn’t feel like I won.”

That’s when you look at Jay, confused yet waiting for you to say another word.

“Because I hurt you Jay. I was so impatient for Yoomi’s downfall that I resorted to using you. I dated you because I was petty because you’re a big part in Yoomi’s life but she can’t have you — but I can.” your hands become shaky, you are harsh with your fingers as you find yourself catching for breath. 

“And I’m sorry because you were so genuine about dating me, even when I told you that I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, you understood where I am coming from but all I did was hurt you,” you took a deep breath. 

“y/n,” Jay called out but you chose to ignore it. Glancing at him as your eyes started to water. 

“And I understand if you’re mad at me, and I’m sorry if I ran away — I always ran away from everything, even from Yeonjun and Yoomi, I didn’t bother asking for their explanation but you…you deserve it Jay.”

That’s when Jay approached you, pulling you to a hug that only made you cry. You punched his chest, trying to push him away but he only tightened his hold on you. 

“You should be angry but why aren’t you? Why!?” You managed to stitch some words, and instead of answering you, Jay brokes out from the hug, caressing your cheeks as he looked at you fondly.

“I’ve known you for so long,” Jay confessed. “You’re always been with Yoomi. I know Yoomi, we’re from the same town but…she’s just not my type.” 

You only stared at Jay, eyes widened.

“You know me?” you asked, shocked. 

Jay only laughs, “face? Yeah I know you, but name and other things? Not really. But it’s not hard to remember the girl who looks like she doesn't want to be there whenever she attends our gig.”

The comment made you stifle a laugh, making Jay smile. “I found you cute and pretty, and although it hurts that you’re always on your phone during our gig, I still find myself looking at you. You completely contrast’s Yoomi’s loud cheer, that’s why I was drawn to you.”

“I wonder, “when will she be able to look at us?” then I discovered that you had a boyfriend, and not gonna lie it crushed my heart.” Jay jokingly said. “Then you stopped showing up to our gigs, and Yoomi was with another friend. I thought, maybe you were spending your time with your boyfriend, and maybe I should stop this silly crush of mine.” 

You became quiet. Thoughts became afloat. It all makes sense now. From the start, Yoomi never really had the chance with Jay. All the times she told you that Jay kept on glancing at her was just her assumption — Jay has been looking at you all along. 

His words, you recall the way Jay told you that he doesn’t want to lose you again. You thought that your first meeting was at the bar but no, he has been looking for you for years now. 

“So, when you approached me at the bar —”

“It was like fate telling me that, “there she is, this is your chance!” And I didn’t want to waste it.” 

“But I hurt you Jay,” you pointed out. 

But Jay merely shrugs. “No, from the start, you made it clear to me that you didn’t want a serious relationship, I respected that and I was happy with what we had. I was happy just being on your side.” 

Tears started to fall from your eyes again, you couldn’t help but to cry making Jay pull you to his arms again, wrapping you gently as he pats your head.

It couldn’t sink in your mind that aside from your roommates, there is someone who is willing to be by your side despite all you’ve been through. You always thought that you’re undeserving of finding other people to love you, but it just went to your mind that meeting Jay wasn’t a way for you to get back to your ex-best friend — it was a way for you to find another person who will love you again. 

“I hate you, you were supposed to hate me for what I did,” you said between your cries. 

“How can I? Your reason is valid though, and if you told me from the start, I would’ve done worse, maybe kiss you in front of Yoomi just to spite her.” Jay joked, which led you to jabbing his chest, he lightly scowled as you glared at him. 

“I’m serious,” you told him. 

“And I’m also serious,” Jay lightly cups your cheeks, swiping any teardrop from your eyes. “And I’m not saying this because I like you, but because it’s just some petty revenge right? It’s not like you’re planning their murder.” 

“I could if murder was legal,” you spat. “Would you still join me?”

And instead of saying anything, Jay kisses the tip of your nose, “anything for my pretty girl.”

“I couldn’t believe you,” you mumbled. “After everything, you’re still here for me.”

“How can I? I’ll be with you at any chance fate will give me.”

“Oh, suddenly you’re spiritual enough to believe in fate?” 

“You taught me how to.”

Silence swallowed you two. You only stared at Jay who’s gazing at you fondly. Then he smiles, grazing your cheeks with his thumb.

“I love you.” Jay confessed. 

Your eyes widen by his words, staring at him speechless as he never left his gaze at you. 

“I love you so much that it didn’t hurt me that you used me, it hurt me that you had to resort to that plan because you were hurting so much.” Jay explained. “And if you give me a chance, I’ll show to you that you can still be loved, and I don’t care if you’re still broken by your past, I’ll help you gain your trust to love again.” 

You only let out a sigh, glancing at Jay who’s eagerly waiting for your answer. That’s when you lean against his cheeks, smiling as you start, “thank you Jay, for showing me that I can still be loved.” 

“Maybe meeting you wasn’t a way for karma to tell me to get back to Yoomi, but it was fate’s way to tell me that I can still learn to love someone. And while I was stupid to be focused too much on my anger, I forgot that I should’ve used my energy reciprocating your feelings to me.”

“And we can take it slow, I’m in no rush —”

“No Jay, I was just too stupid to realise that I’d fallen for you, that there were moments that felt genuine for me, and I want us to be more real, without thinking about Yoomi or getting back to her.” 

You saw how Jay slowly sank-in what you just said, eyes widening as his hold to your face tightens. 

“Are you serious?” he breathes. 

You only nod as a response, letting out a soft laughter as Jay’s expression brightens more. He could only let out a raspy gasp, words stuck on his throat as he pulled you closer for a hug. 

“I can’t believe — fuck, I'm just happy – god, I can’t believe this,” he said, choking in his own words.

“I’m sorry if it took me long.” 

“You’re worth the wait,” Jay whispered. ,

Breaking from the hug, Jay found himself staring at you. You only let out a small chuckle as you found yourself staring at Jay’s eyes. He lightly brushes your hair before planting a kiss on top of your head, then sealing your lips with lips — an action that tugs your heart with ease. You could only kiss him back, finding yourself smiling between it. 

Because the first time ever since you got your heart broken, you found yourself genuinely happy. 

-

Epilogue. 

“Congratulations to us!” Yunjin hugs you tightly, making you chuckle as you hold onto your graduation cap tightly. 

Senior year passed by with ease. You found yourself juggling your thesis papers and internships along with course subjects. There were gray days and you lost count of the breakdowns that you had throughout the year, but here you are, officially graduating with honors.

“Congrats love,” Jay said, handing you a bouquet of lilies which made you smile. 

“Thank you love,” you said before planting a kiss on him.

Your relationship with Jay was a second chance for you. Although you two still kept it unlabeled in the first few months because there were parts of you that were still struggling to open up to him, Jay was ever patient with you. 

But now, you two became official, and you look forward to what waits for you two outside college.

“Congrats to you two, I know you two can make it,” Jake said, handing you two bouquets of flowers which made Yunjin fake cry. 

“I can’t believe that we’re no longer roommates! I’ll miss annoying you two,” Yunjin said between her fake sobs, slinging her arms to you and Jake and pulling you two for a hug.

“You’re so dramatic,” you said, but your smile widened as you hugged Yunjin back, which Jake did the same. 

“But before that, I have something to spill!” Yunjin excitedly said, breaking out from the hug. 

“Do you guys know why Yoomi isn’t here?” she asked, and you only shrugged. 

Now that you think of it, throughout your senior year, Yoomi still managed to get through her academics but there is wariness around her now because of her case. She didn’t bother you anymore either. Senior year became a peaceful year for you. 

“Just tell us already,” Jake impatiently said, making Yunjin let out an evil chuckle, which meant that her story is diabolical. 

“Apparently, she wasn’t able to graduate because the academic coordinators had learned that she slept with our Dean.”

“What the fuck —”

“Are you serious!?” you shouted, “no fucking way, where did you learn that?”

“Her ‘friends’ of course,” Yunjin smirked. “Apparently, that’s the reason why she was able to maintain her scholarship. They only investigated it during graduation season and had confirmed it a few days ago.”

“So, she wasn’t able to graduate?” Jake asked. 

“And she’s expelled from Decelis, she can’t continue her studies here,” Yunjin added. 

“Now that’s much worse,” Jay added, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips. 

“And she fucking deserve it,” you mumble. “She finally got her karma.”

“Guess the universe has answered your prayers.”

You only stared at Jay, a soft smile curving on his lips, which made you smile wider. “I guess they did.” 

Everything now felt light. The thorn in your heart was gone. You finally graduated with honors, your roommates are there for you, and your ex-best friend got what she deserves. 

“Hey,” you called out Jay, shifting his attention to you. His right arm instinctively wraps around your waist. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked, and you only shook your head.

“I love you,” you said.

Jay scoffs in disbelief, but the smile on his lips becomes wide as he leans into you for a kiss. “I love you too.” 

Of course, you had Jay by your side. You may have been praying for karma but it was fate who heard your prayers. Despite the mishaps you’ve faced, you were still thankful because you still found someone who will love you wholly.

[drabbles-n-doodles]

No high can truly compare to the feeling I get from calling out toxic family members on Facebook with such efficiency that they literally cannot respond without making themselves look like the assholes they really are

[holdinggrudges]

i can be your antidote - sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x reader

content: EXPLICIT 18+, sex curse, fuck or die, mildly dubious consent (because of the fuck or die of it all), fem!reader, mutual pining, unprotected piv sex, cumplay (just a little), nipple play, size kink

word count: 6.3k

summary: You fucking hate witches. Especially the one that hit you and Sam Winchester, whom you've been harboring a crush on for years, with a sex curse.

notes: i don't usually even read sex curse/fuck or die fics. i have no idea where this came from. i think i was possessed by some sort of horny demon or something. anyways i've been looking at this one so long that i have no idea if it's even good anymore. hope you all enjoy it lmao. also, divider by @cafekitsune <3 EDITING THIS TO MENTION THE TITLE IS FROM DISEASE BY LADY GAGA OKAY BYEEE!!!

crossposted on ao3

You fucking hate witches. 

Some of them are alright. Some of them are kind and generous and only use their magic for protection and good luck and they only put hexes on people who really deserve it. You don’t mind those sorts of witches. Most of them, though, like the one currently throwing you across the room, are the fucking worst. 

Your back slams into the wall before you tumble to the ground—maybe two, three feet away from where Sam is currently stumbling back to his feet—and the impact knocks the breath right out of your lungs. You groan, shoving up on your hands; you don’t have time to try and catch your breath. This witch is, frankly, kicking your asses. But right now, she’s focused on Dean on the other side of the room. If you’re quick, you might be able to get the jump on her. 

You drag yourself up to your knees, just high enough to be able to access the gun in the waistband of your jeans and to aim it straight for her fucking head. Once you’ve got the gun in your hands, though, several things happen in quick, extremely unlucky succession. 

The witch gets Dean on the ground and turns her head just as you raise the gun to aim right between her eyes, and she begins to chant, crackling, magical energy sparking in the space between her hands. You have just enough to time to think—fuck it. If I’m going down, I’m taking her out with me—before that energy is shot straight at you. You squeeze your finger on the trigger just as Sam, who has apparently recovered enough to try to take a bullet for you, jumps in front of you, knocking you back and sending your aim way wide so the bullet hits the wall instead of the witch’s skull.

And the worst part is it doesn’t even work. Six feet and four inches of pure muscle barrels into you, has you slamming right back against the wall with a pained, breathless grunt, and still, you feel the magic when it hits you, the energy of it spreading over your skin and sinking into your bones like an electric shock. Either you hit your head when you hit the wall, or the spell is making your head swim, leaving you too disoriented to tell which way the witch goes when she runs out the door. 

Sam groans where he landed half on top of you. You blink in an effort to clear your vision, blindly reaching out to touch his face, to check if he’s okay. You don’t know exactly what that spell did, you were too far away to hear exactly what she was chanting, but you can feel it tingling across your skin, settling in like it’s making a home there. Sam got blasted too, that much is clear when your hand lands on his cheek and magic sparks across your palm. 

He sucks in a breath, flinching away from the foreign feeling at the same time as you yank your hand back. “What the hell did she do to us?” he asks, shoving up on his arms to look down at you. And isn’t that just the million dollar question?

You’re on the phone with Bobby almost before you’ve even made it back to the Impala. All three of you agree whatever is going on with this hex you’ve been hit with, you’re in over your heads. You need some expert help. 

“You get the witch?” Bobby greets, just rubbing salt in the wound. 

“Uh. No,” you answer, climbing into the backseat of the car. You and Sam have been avoiding touching as much as possible, and it’s been shockingly hard. Honestly, you never noticed how closely you usually walk until every brush of your shoulders or hands sent sparks cascading over your skin. “There’s been a bit of a…complication.” 

There’s silence, and then an exhausted, beleaguered sigh from the other end of the call. “You idjits managed to get yourselves cursed, didn’t you?” Bobby asks, his tone exasperated. 

Ugh, God. The sun must’ve recently peaked in the sky, beaming down on the car and cooking you like you’re in a damn oven. You don’t remember it being this hot before. “Jesus—Dean, can you turn the air up?” you call out to the front before deigning to answer Bobby’s question. “Yeah. Yeah, she hit me and Sam with some sort of spell before I could shoot her. Problem is, we can’t really tell what sort of spell it actually is. It’s sort of creating like…static electricity? Every time we touch it’s kind of sparking.” 

“Well, did she say anything?” Bobby asks. 

You frown, irritated.  “Don’t you think if I knew what spell she cast, I would’ve told you? I was too far away, I couldn’t hear what she was saying.” 

From the front seat, Dean says, “I heard it, sort of. She was speaking Latin for sure, something about cupid?” 

As Dean says this, you watch Sam’s eyes go wide and his face go a little pale, which really doesn’t seem like a very good sign. “Cupiditas?” he asks. And it’s strange, looking into the front seat, you notice Sam’s face is a little red, a sheen of sweat starting to build on his forehead. Clearly, he’s noticing the heat as you are. And though you have a bit of a hard time drawing your eyes from Sam—though, when don’t you?—you can see that Dean doesn’t seem to be hot at all, not seeming bothered by the way the car is cooking you. 

“Yeah! Cupiditas con… something,” Dean confirms. 

You repeat what Dean said to Bobby, and you hear the pages he’d been flipping through stop turning. “You know, I wish you three would stop putting me in situations where I have to explain shit like this to you,” he mutters. 

You feel as out of the loop as Dean, which is not a very comfortable feeling to have. Sam seems to have some idea of what’s going on, if the look on his face is to be believed, and Bobby’s long-suffering complaints make you believe he knows exactly what spell you’re suffering from. “Explain shit like what?” you ask. 

“She hit the two of you with a damn sex curse, is what,” Bobby says, and you feel your stomach drop out your ass. 

“A sex curse?!” you repeat, incredulous. Of fucking course this would happen to you. “You’re joking. That’s not a real thing.” 

“It certainly is. And deadly, too,” Bobby says, and you hear the turning of pages start up again until he finds what he’s looking for. “Says here you’ve only got about two hours before the, uh…lust heats you up too hot, cooks your brain inside your damn skull.” 

Well. That at least explains why it’s so damn hot in here. “Well, how do we make that not happen?” You’re pretty interested in not getting so horny you literally die, thanks. 

Bobby is silent for a moment, his discomfort with the subject warring with the knowledge that time is of the essence. “You’ve gotta…sate it,” he says haltingly. “You’re an adult, I’m sure I don’t have to explain how. It won’t break the curse completely, but it’ll buy Dean time to find the witch and kill her; that’s the only way to actually break the curse.” 

Oh, fucking hell. “So…we’ve got two hours, unless we…” you trail off, your stomach flipping at the thought. Sam’s hands desperately tugging at your clothes, needy, he’s got to have you or he’ll die, literally. You tug at the collar of your shirt, sweating for real now, and shake it off. “But if…if Dean finds the witch before then, then we wouldn’t have to. Right?” 

“If you wanna tempt fate like that, be my guest. But it’s gonna be uncomfortable as hell. Soon enough, it’ll be pretty hard to remember exactly why you’re tempting fate in the first place.” You hear Bobby slam the book shut. “But if you do decide to sate the curse, keep it to yourselves, please. I already know too much about this, and I don’t wanna know any more.” 

You swallow, your mouth dry with the images swirling through your head again. Familiar ones, sure; this is certainly not the first time you’ve ever thought of Sam like that. But these images are so vivid, so intense, shooting arousal down your spine and building in your gut faster than you’ve ever known it to do so. “Alright. We’ll just…let you know when we—when Dean gets her, then.” You hang up the phone, turning your attention to the front seat where both brothers are staring at you, eyes wide. Right. They could hear your side of the conversation. 

“A sex curse?” Dean asks, voice flooded with disgust. Like Bobby, he probably already knows way more about this than he’d like to. 

Sam though…his expression is strange, a little unreadable. You wish you could get a better handle on his thoughts here because you have pretty mixed emotions, yourself. On the one hand, you’ve wanted Sam…God, since you met him. The only thing the curse is doing is amplifying it, turning that desire into something deadly. But this was never how you wanted it to happen, although you’re not sure who would ever want a sex curse to be the reason they finally got to kiss their crush. 

You relay what Bobby told you to the boys, everything Bobby told you, even when the mention of sating the curse makes Dean’s lip curl in disgust. It doesn’t escape your notice that Sam visibly relaxes when you say that you don’t necessarily have to do anything, so long as Dean is quick enough, and it stings a little, the idea that he would rather push through the discomfort of arousal burning him up from the inside out than touch you. 

Dean nods, untwisting his body to face the front of the car again. “Alright. We’ll get you two back to the hotel, and then I’ll kill the bitch.” 

By the time Dean drops you and Sam back at the room, the effects of the curse are in full swing. You’re so hot, stripped down to shorts and your sports bra and still sweating buckets. Sam is in a similar state of undress, his shirt tossed somewhere across the room after the heat became unbearable. Of course, you only know this from quick glances because if you look at him too long, the urge to touch him, lick him, bite him, starts getting almost too strong to ignore. Every time you see his pecs out of the corner of your eye, your mouth starts to water. It only takes half an hour for it to start to get a little bit too much. 

“Do you think Dean’s found her yet?” you ask, striking a conversation just for any type of distraction from the ache between your legs. And it does ache; you think you may have ruined both your underwear and these shorts from the way your cunt is dripping. 

Where you’re looking at him in your periphery—in an effort not to exacerbate the flooding of your panties—Sam shakes his head. When he speaks, his voice is low and rich and almost rasping, and you squirm where you’re sitting as it hits your ears. “He texted me a few minutes ago, said he thinks he’s getting closer, but…” But it’s not looking good. The words hang unsaid in the air. 

You groan, dropping your head into your hands. “We might not have a choice,” you mutter, glancing at him through the gap between your fingers. Your eyes zero in on the hollow of his neck, your entire body buzzing with the need to attach your mouth to it, to see what noise he’d make if you did. You can’t drag your eyes away. “He’s not gonna find her in time.” 

Sam’s gaze turns to you, and you finally manage to lift your eyes to watch his drag down your body, his pupils blown so wide you can no longer see the hazel of his irises. “He might,” he protests, but the argument falls flat with the way his eyes are locked on your cleavage, glistening with sweat. 

“And if he doesn’t?” you ask, lifting your head from where you’ve been hiding behind your hands. Seeing him full on, no hiding in your periphery or stealing quick glances, it’s like staring straight into the sun. Blinding. You have to take a deep breath and dig your fingers into the sheets beneath you to keep from reaching out. “How long are we gonna push it? Are we gonna let it kill us just so we don’t have to—”

He interrupts you with a rasp of your name, and you almost groan out loud at the sound of it. Fuck, you’ve never needed anything like you need him right now. Like air, like water. “That’s the thing, I don’t want to have to. I—God, it feels like…forcing you. It feels wrong.” 

Is that his hold up? He thinks you don’t want this? Jesus, you’ve gone this whole time thinking he’d literally rather die than fuck you, and it turns out he was just scared you didn’t really want him, that the curse was making you feel things you’d never feel otherwise. “Sam, I don’t know if you’ve noticed this, but you’re hot. I’d way rather have sex with you than die.”  You watch his hands flex, his fingers spreading before he balls them into fists, and your cunt flutters. “Actually, the list of things I’d rather do than fuck you is probably significantly shorter than the opposite. Not…not just because of the curse.” Of course, the curse is definitely making it worse. You can’t stop thinking of how good his thick fingers would feel curling inside you, imagining how attentive he’d be. How generous. Normally, you can curb it a little, save those thoughts for late at night, guilty and shameful. But right now they’re sticking at the forefront of your mind, no matter how hard you try to think about literally anything else. 

You watch the conflict in his mind playing out on his face before he groans and rubs his hands over it. “You don’t get it; it’s not—I don’t want to just be someone you fuck, I want…I want everything,” he tells you, and if your heartbeat wasn’t already erratic, it would be skipping in your chest right now. “And this is just absolutely the last way I wanted you to find out, but that’s why I’m not…I just don’t know if I can do this if this is all I’m gonna get.” 

“Oh, Sam.” His name falls from your lips before you even realize you’re saying it. You stand up and cross the room to sit next to him on the bed, and you don’t miss the way his throat bobs as he swallows, the way his eyes flick down your body for just a moment, the way he twists his fingers into the sheets. You set it aside for now; this is more important. He is more important. “You really don’t know?” 

He’s silent for a moment, his eyes searching your face; although for what, you don’t know. “Know what?” he asks, his voice quiet as a breath. 

You lift your hand to touch his face, and this time, when the magic sparks across your skin, it feels like a salve, cooling the skin of your palm. From the way he sighs, you imagine he’s feeling the effect as well. “Of course I want that. Who wouldn’t want everything with you?” You’re so engrossed in the look on his face—wide-eyed awe, as if he truly never believed you could want him too—that the sparking of his hand touching your waist makes you jump. Oh, but God, the relief is instantaneous. If just this, your hand on his cheek, his hand on your waist, feels this good, how good would it feel to kiss him? To drag his shorts down his legs and sink down onto his cock, feel the way it stretches you out— “Now if you’re properly reassured, could you please, please fuck me already?” 

Sam may have the self-control of some sort of divine being, but he is, in the end, only human, and the curse is deep, and hot, and needy. You can see it the moment his restraint snaps, and even if you couldn’t, he drags you in and plants his lips on yours. Every feeling is amplified tenfold, and as you gasp at his hungry kiss, Sam takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, his free hand coming up to the back of your head to hold you close, guide you how he wants you. It’s not how you imagined he would kiss you, not really, but it’s exactly what you need right now, and the magic sparks down your spine in a wave of cool respite from the heat that had been eating you up. 

Then he pulls away—to speak, or maybe just to breathe—and the heat surges back in instantly, stealing your breath and leaving you panting into his mouth as you frantically drag him back in. “No,” you groan, shoving your hand into his hair to keep him from pulling back again. “We have to keep—oh, fuck.” 

The feeling of his hand shoving under the fabric of your sports bra, pushing it up to expose your breasts, shuts you up quickly. He brushes his thumb over your nipple, and you moan, pleasure sparking across what feels like every nerve ending you have. He doesn’t pull away to speak this time, well aware now that the relief you’re both feeling is very dependent on the contact. “I wish I could take this slow,” he mumbles, and you feel his voice buzzing against your lips. “Lay you down and taste every inch of you until you’re begging for my cock.” 

As if you needed to be any hornier. “I’m already begging for it,” you tell him, before dragging his bottom lip between your teeth. The noise he makes goes straight to your cunt, and you scramble to climb onto his lap. Fuck, you can feel how hard he is underneath you as you straddle him—even through the layers of fabric separating you, he feels huge. You need him inside you yesterday. “Next time—” you start, although it’s a little hard to speak with Sam’s tongue dragging over yours on nearly every other word— “we can have slow and sweet and whatever you want. But if you’re not inside me in the next two minutes, I’ll kill you before the curse even gets a chance, I swear to God.” 

Sam laughs, like you’re joking. You’re absolutely not. “Alright, I got you,” he mutters, and your brain registers the magic sparking across your skin before his hand as he shoves it under the waistband of your shorts. Your entire body jolts as he brushes a finger over your center through the fabric of your panties, but only because it feels so good, more intense than it has any right to be. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” 

You hardly have the brain power to even kiss him anymore, but it doesn’t matter as much now. His hand in your pants is providing infinitely more relief than kissing him could hope to achieve. You drag your lips down his neck before laving your tongue over the hollow of his throat, tasting the sweat that’s gathered there. “I need it so bad,” you mumble against his skin, and apparently you’re so fucking desperate for it that you’ve been reduced to cheesy, porny dirty talk. 

Sam doesn’t seem to mind. He tips his head back on a groan as you scrape your teeth over the thin skin of his throat. “Yeah? I can tell. You’re soaked,” he says, and then his fingers deftly tug the fabric of your underwear aside so he can press a finger inside you. You’re pretty sure you see God. From the look on his face, Sam might be in the same boat. “Fucking hell—off. Off, take them off.” Tragically, he removes his hand from your cunt, and you could actually cry at the way the overwhelming heat comes slamming back into you the second his touch leaves. But it only takes a moment before magic is sparking over your skin again as his hands brush your hips in his efforts to drag your shorts and underwear down your legs. 

You take over once he’s got them halfway down your thighs, crawling off his lap in favor of ridding yourself of the offending garments. And while you’re at it, you drag your sports bra over your head too. In the time between you crawling off him and tossing your bra carelessly aside, Sam has followed suit. When you turn your attention back to him, he’s entirely bare, having tossed his pants and underwear to the same careless void you’d abandoned yours to. 

Despite your desperate urgency, you take a moment to let your eyes fall to his lap, and fuck, your mouth waters at the sight of him, hard and leaking. He’s…God, you expected him to be big—he’s six foot four for fuck’s sake, of course he’d be big—but this is just absurd. You can’t help but reach out, gingerly wrapping your fingers around his length. You’re so engrossed in the way your hand looks wrapped around him that you almost miss the choked little moan he gives, his body bowing towards you. 

“Please,” he groans, and then he reaches out to grab you by the shoulders, tugging you back in close again, urging you to reclaim your perch on his lap. “I wanna feel you, I need to—God, you’re so hot; please let me fuck you.” 

You aren’t sure if he means it as a compliment, or a comment on the insane waves of heat radiating off your skin. Either way, you’re more than willing to fulfill his request. “Yeah. Yeah, anything,” you murmur, ducking your head to press your forehead against his. From this angle, you can almost see as you use your grip on him to guide his cockhead to line up with your entrance. Where you touch, the magic between you sings. It’s nearly automatic; you sink down onto his cock without so much as a second thought. 

Despite Sam’s…considerable size, somehow, you expected the slide to be easy, what with the aching desperation of it all. You’d expected your dripping cunt to suck him right in, make the stretch of taking his cock bearable. It seems even sex curses can’t work miracles, though. “Fuck, Sam—” you choke out, dropping your head to rest on his shoulder. The stretch doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it’s so much—would be so much anyway, even without the curse amplifying it and making it so much more. You have to stop and take a moment just to remember how to breathe before you’ve even sunk to the top of your hand, wrapped no less than halfway down. 

“I know.” His voice when he speaks is rough, teeth gritted like it’s a real test of his strength to keep still, to keep from fucking up into you, to keep from making you take it. God, you almost want him to, but the soothing tone of his voice is nice too. It rumbles in his chest, echoing through your body just as sure as the pleasure of his cock stretching you out. He brushes his hands over your shoulders and down your back to finally land on your hips. You think maybe he means to keep his grip gentle, because the pressure of his fingers digging into your skin fluctuates, like he’s fighting the urge to bruise you. He’s not doing a very good job of it, though, and it sends a thrill up your spine to know he’s going to leave his mark there, even if that’s not his intention. “I know, take your time. I’ve got you.” 

It’s a sweet sentiment, but you both know time is something you actually don’t have a lot of right now. You can feel the heat crawling up your spine even now, though Sam’s cock spearing you open is holding it at bay. Somewhat. So you dig your fingers into Sam’s hair to steel yourself, and you sink down. And down, and down, until you can’t imagine how there could possibly be more to take, and then, finally, your hips kiss his, and he’s bottomed out inside you. “Fuck,” you groan, panting against the skin of his shoulder as you try to catch your breath. It feels like your lungs emptied out in an attempt to make room, like he’s buried so deep inside you they can’t quite fill right anymore. “Oh, fuck.” 

Sam makes an attempt to soothe you, laying hot, open mouthed kisses over your neck and shoulder. “So good, you’re so good, baby,” he murmurs, his voice rumbling over your skin. His hands abandon their stations at your hips to pull your face up so he can press those same kisses all across your face. “Taking me so well, so perfect for me.” 

Fuck, but he’s got your number, doesn’t he? The praise hits like a drug, zipping down your spine to your cunt and making you flutter around him. It’s frankly entirely unconscious when you shift your hips, but the stars that erupt in your vision when he moves inside you have you moaning in tandem with him. 

“Shit—” He drags you into a messy kiss, all open mouths and panting breaths, his hands buried in your hair. “Can I—God, please, can I move?” You’ve never heard him sound like that before, just the very edge of a whine in his voice as he pleads against your lips. He sounds wrecked, and it feels…good, heady. Powerful. You want to drag that voice out of him a hundred more times, make him whine for you like that for the rest of his life. 

You shake your head, tilting your head down to press a biting kiss on his jaw. “No. No, I’m gonna…” With that, you brace your arms on his shoulders and your knees on either side of him and lift your hips until you’ve nearly moved off him entirely, just the tip of his cock still pressed inside you. And then you drop back down. You feel every inch of it as he drags along your walls, and though it’s easier to take this time, the stretch is still intense, still nearly makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

You force yourself to keep your eyes forward, though, because the look on Sam’s face is almost as good as the stretch of his cock. His brows furrow, face twisting in his pleasure, and his mouth falls open, like he wants to moan but something is holding him back. And, well. That just won’t do. 

You lift yourself up to drop down again, satisfied when Sam groans and drags his hands down your back to dig his fingers into your hips again, pressing into familiar aches. You duck to press your smug smile against his neck, and find it so slick with sweat that you can’t help licking a stripe up his throat. “I’m gonna ride you so good, Sammy,” you mutter, your lips brushing his skin as you speak. His hands help guide you when you bounce this time, and it only makes the slide more delicious, makes your words drag out into a moan before you can continue, “Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this? See your face while I make myself come on your cock?” You start up a steady rhythm with Sam’s grip spurring you along, lifting up to slam back down again, his cock spearing you open again and again and again. 

Once you’ve got into the rhythm, his hands move from your hips to your upper back to drag you closer until he can lean down and press his face in the valley between your breasts, kissing and biting and licking the soft skin there, and all the while his hands keep pressing you closer, keeping your chest arched into his mouth. “How long?” he asks, his voice muffled as he drags his lips over the swell of your breast to leave his biting kisses there too. 

You drag your hands up into his hair as you roll your hips, moving in more of a grind now than a bounce, and the new movement means his cock is frankly unrelenting against your g-spot, the pressure of it never leaving, only shifting. The feeling is near overwhelming, has your hips faltering so much that Sam has to bring his hands back to your hips just so you keep moving. “Mm, God, forever, feels like,” you answer, once you’ve gathered enough brain power to even process that he had asked you a question. “Since the first time I saw you, probably.” Saying it out loud, it feels a little bit creepy to confess that you’ve been fantasizing about riding him since the moment you met him, but you’re a little too blissed out at the moment to feel embarrassed about it.  

Besides, judging by the way Sam groans against your chest and fucks up into you, he clearly doesn’t find it creepy at all. “Guess I’d better make it worth the wait, then,” he mutters, before dragging the blunt of his teeth over your pebbled nipple and then moaning against it when the shock of pleasure makes your grip tighten in his hair. And, fuck, if you thought it was good before…

He digs his heels into the bed to brace and starts thrusting up to meet every roll of your hips, his cock pounding so deep inside you now that you swear you can almost taste it. If there was enough room in your mind to even process it behind the fog of lust, you’d realize he’s fucking needy, desperate little moans from your throat with every thrust. And all the while he keeps his face buried in your tits, despite the way they bounce with the force of his thrusts. He drags his teeth over the skin between them, laves his tongue over your nipples, making noises like there’s no place he’d rather be. It’s intoxicating. 

And you’re so close, toeing the edge and hurtling ever closer with every thrust Sam pounds into you. The entire energy of the curse settles in your core at the same place the coil of your impending orgasm grows ever tighter. “Sam,” his name falls from your lips like a prayer, and you use your grip in his hair to drag him up, to kiss him messy and deep. You swallow the sweet, hungry noises he’s making, and he nips at your lip, and you are so fucking close. “Please.” 

Sam’s got you. Of course he does. He brings one hand from your hip to press between your legs and rub his thumb over your clit in quick, firm little circles. “Come on, pretty girl,” he murmurs, “let me feel you come on my cock.” 

And who are you to deny him anything he wants? You cry out as your orgasm explodes through you, whiting out your vision with the force of it. You’ve never come so hard in your life, and it just keeps going, burning up your spine like it’s singlehandedly eating up the energy the curse had created in your body. You’re just conscious enough to feel when Sam’s cock twitches and spills inside you, the frantic spasming of your cunt milking him for all he’s worth. 

You do come down, eventually, your fingers aching where they’ve been white knuckled in Sam’s hair. You bury your face in his neck and try to catch your breath, and his nose presses against your hair as he seems to do the same. It takes you a moment to notice—and you think you can be excused, considering you just came so hard you saw God—but despite the cum that you can feel slowly beginning to seep out of you, Sam is still hard, and doesn’t seem to be softening. Like, at all. And once you notice that, it’s a quick step to realize that the heat at the base of your spine, while significantly lessened, has not completely subsided. 

Fuck. “She’s not dead,” you groan, which morphs into a whimper when an involuntary shift of your hips makes Sam’s cock press against your oversensitive sweet spot. “God, we’re still cursed.” You can feel the awful heat starting to build again, that same devastating arousal eating at you despite the way you’re still trembling all over with the aftermath of your last orgasm.

You feel Sam’s lips press against your hair, soothing hands rubbing up your sides as they do. “We’ve probably bought enough time,” he offers, smoothing his thumbs over your hip bones. It seems sweet, until he smooths his hand down your thigh and keeps talking, “If you can’t go again.” And that? Well, that sounds like a challenge. 

Pushing through the oversensitivity, you rock your hips down, dragging your nails down the back of Sam’s neck and shoulders in an effort to dull the feeling. “Oh, I can go again,” you retort, with a confidence that you’re not sure you’ve really earned, considering the way your thighs are shaking. “Just…not on top.” 

The rumble of Sam’s laugh in his chest is your only warning before you’re suddenly bouncing on the bed on your back, a shocked yelp passing your lips at the sudden movement, and the sudden emptiness—your cunt clenches around nothing but air, Sam’s spend spilling from your fluttering hole.  

“There,” Sam says, his face smug as he climbs over you. “Problem solved.” 

You roll your eyes, ready to shoot back some sassy retort of your own, but Sam’s not looking at you. Not at your face, at least. Instead, his eyes are trained between your legs, and simply because it seems like it would be more effective than a sarcastic comment—and not because of the way his eyes glaze over a little while he’s staring, definitely not—you let your legs fall open a little further. He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and then he reaches between your legs to press two fingers in your cunt. It takes you a moment to realize he’s pushing his cum back in, gathering up whatever had spilled from you when he pulled out and fucking it back into you with his fingers. 

You groan, tossing your arm over your eyes. It’s not really something you’d thought you’d be into, but now that he’s doing it… “Fuck, Sam…” 

Sam laughs, but it comes out a little breathless, and you lift your arm to watch him as he draws his fingers from your cunt and brings them right up to his mouth to lick them clean. Holy fucking shit. “Yeah,” he mutters, tucking his hand under your thigh to lift your leg up onto his shoulder, “That’s sort of the idea.”

He doesn’t waste much time after that, lines himself up and pushes in. You’re so sensitive; it’s so good it almost hurts, and though this angle doesn’t allow him to get nearly as deep, it’s clearly better for him to drive into you. His thrusts are quick and punchy, drawing little ‘ah’s from your throat as he drags you back to the edge faster than you would’ve thought possible. Maybe that’s the curse. Maybe he’s just that good. 

“Come on, baby,” he mutters, pressing sloppy kisses all over your face, down your neck. “You can give me one more, yeah?” You don’t even notice his arm move, but between one blink and the next, he’s got his thumb back on your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive bud. 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging down his back as you arch your own. “God, don’t stop, fuck—”

You feel it the second it happens. It’s completely instant, the sudden and total disappearance of the magic that had been consuming your and Sam’s bodies. The witch is dead, the curse is broken, and the complete relief in tandem with Sam railing you into the fucking bed sends you careening over the edge in an instant, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you squeeze them shut. 

Sam groans and digs his teeth into your shoulder, following right after you as the curse dissipates from his body as well. 

The two of you don’t talk for a long while after that, going about the motions of recovery and cleaning up in silence. He pulls out—the both of you hissing with oversensitivity at the motion—and heads into the bathroom to get a rag. He wipes himself down and then you, mindful of the way you wince when he presses too hard. 

You catch his wrist when he goes to walk away. “I meant what I said.” You wait until he turns to look at you, and then you tangle your fingers in his. “It wasn’t just about the curse for me.” 

You can see it on his face, the hesitance. Like he really never thought he could have this. Fuck, if you had known, you’d have told him years ago, just to make sure he knew how adored he was. How adored he is, always. 

“Yeah?” he says, his voice quiet as he leans down to press a kiss to your lips. It’s sweeter, much more tender than any of the kisses before, and this is exactly how you had always thought Sam would kiss you. With his entire heart on his sleeve. “Me too.” 

Maybe you’ve got a little to thank witches for after all. 

[venomvalley]

PILLOW PRINCESS

sevika x fem!reader // 9.7k words

SUMMARY: A woman from one of Piltover's most prestigious houses bites off more than she can chew when she steps into a bar in Zaun looking for a bit of excitement. Unfortunately for her, she entered the wrong kind of establishment.

TAGS: 18+ only! corruption kink, brat taming, biting, oral (r!receiving), shimmer strap, size kink, choking, reader is a closeted lesbian and in her mid-20s, dom!sevika. poorly discussed societal issues (for obvious reasons)

NOTES: my first foray into the arcane fandom and its a fucking novel length shimmer strap fanfic. anyway i wrote this entirely for me but yall can read it too

-> READ IT ON AO3 | PILLOW PRINCESS MASTERLIST

There are two universal truths to the city of Piltover: its citizens are rich, and the social game is deathly boring. After endless years of networking and grandiose dinners and ballroom dancing, you've dealt with the weight of propriety for long enough.

The Undercity seems the only remedy to free you from your gilded cage.

The idea comes to you one morning in the library of your family home, perched atop a velveteen chair with a thick, dusty tome opened before you on the desk. Some boring old thing about the history of pottery and dishware to prepare you for yet another meeting with a potential suitor and his family.

You still aren’t sure how to tell your sickly, neurotic mother that you prefer the company of other women, and that it's been this way for a long time. She insists on grandchildren to perpetuate the family legacy, and you’ve resigned yourself to your duty as an affluent family's eldest daughter.

But you've put off the inevitable for as long as you can. Sabotaged all potential marriage up to this point by way of faking illness and poor attitude and un-ladylike habits that your mother should have beat you for doing.

And yet—

“Did ya hear about that orgy the Enforcers crashed?”

Guardsmen making their usual rounds, passing through the library. Unaware of your presence behind a particularly imposing bookshelf (though you curl in on yourself anyway) as you watch them between a crack in the books.

The taller man laughs. “Yeah, my buddy was there. Had thirty people crammed inside the backroom of a tea shop.”

“You couldn't pay me to live in the Undercity.”

“Well, it's good for one thing, at least.”

“The whores?”

“The whores.”

You turn back to your tome as the men pass by your field of view, joking amongst themselves.

Your mother forbade you from engaging in certain… activities until you married, solely in fear of a scandal tarnishing the family name. You shared your first kiss at the age of eighteen with the daughter of a merchant family inside the pitch-black closet of her bedroom, so nervous that you soaked through the back of your nightgown with sweat. A few months later, you began stealing from your mother's collection of erotica hidden in the library, and thought about the merchant's daughter while you touched yourself shamefully in the privacy of your bedroom.

And thus ends the extent of your sexual experience. A facet of your lifestyle that you’re neither proud of nor satisfied with.

But whores. You know what whores do. By their very nature, people talk, and Piltover is no exception. Perhaps the people of the Undercity are more welcoming than your family leads you to believe, and you could find a pretty woman with kind eyes who finds joy in the inexperienced.

Or perhaps they laugh you out of the building.

A bar, then. A more natural, relaxed setting, if the stories from your peers hold any ounce of truth to them. Grab a bitter-tasting drink, sit in some dark corner of the room, and watch for the woman of your wildest dreams to walk through the door.

But you need a plan. Venturing across that blasted bridge (an added layer of your gilded cage) will be daunting due to your mother’s incessant hovering, but you have a scapegoat in mind: your aunt, currently stationed at a research outpost across the bridge. The perfect excuse.

You have a cloak somewhere in your closet to wear over your clothes, a safety measure to hide your status. Gods know that gold-hemmed dresses and silk shirts and velvet pants would not fit well with the simple outfits of the Undercity (of which you have nothing in your closet to mimic).

For the first time in a very long time, with a plan set in stone, you're excited.

You lay low for the rest of the week in preparation for The Question. You appease your mother with her odd requests, help your father in his workshop, and even smile at the man from the artisan house that your family invites over for dinner.

You play your role perfectly, and when the time comes, stood at your mother’s bedroom door as she reads a book beneath the covers, you pray the gods smile upon you.

“Mother?” you ask, stepping into the grand room. The four-poster bed is a symbol of excess, as is the lush carpet and the hand-stitched curtains and the jewels she wears to bed.

She hums, glancing up from the page she's skimming.

“I was wondering if I could take a trip to see Aunt Elise?”

With a heavy sigh, she sets her spectacles aside and fixes you with a disapproving look. “Must you go now, child? Tristan is a highly suitable candidate for your hand.”

“It'll only be for the weekend. Please?”

“In this family, a weekend is a lifetime for the unwed.”

For a moment, you consider bashing your skull against the wall. You still might, given the trajectory of your life. Tristan is sweet, skilled in his profession, but he’s painfully boring. Enjoys his pottery and discussing the weather and making tea, and not much else of substance.

No excitement for you, which is perfect for your family. They can't have their little bird growing wings.

You plaster on your sweetest smile and take a seat beside your mother, the silken sheets smooth and cool against the back of your thighs. “But Mother, does absence not make the heart grow fonder?”

She gives you a poisonous glare then scoffs, waving you away with a glittering hand. “Leave me be. I'll tell your father to inform the guards of your trip.”

You gush your thanks then leave in a rush, only celebrating once the door to your room has been shut and securely locked, dancing a circle about your room and screaming into your pillows.

Over a quarter of a century on this planet, and you've never freely roamed past the bridge, always flanked by undercover guards or the overreaching eye of your father. But the underground is fair game. Nobody would expect you to venture so far away from your house’s influence and protection, and your mother trusts you to go straight to Aunt Elise's, so she won’t assign a group to accompany you.

An entire weekend of freedom.

You aren’t sure what to do with yourself the rest of the night, too filled with energy to sleep, so you pack a bag with your least gaudy clothes, a healthy amount of gold, and toiletries for your journey.

Then there's the matter of what clothing to wear. Given the manner of your visit, you want to dress a bit… sexy, but not opulent. Flaunt your assets, but don’t expose them. A corset and tight-fitting trousers it is. Boots to match. Pretty makeup to entice the pretty girls.

The following morning, your mother frets over you as soon as you step downstairs. Don't go out after dark. Walk straight to Aunt Elise's. Under no circumstances should you make a single detour. Advice you’ve heard again and again in a thousand different ways.

A guard escorts you to the bridge, exchanging words with the patrolmen. He gives them the note stamped with your house's symbol, bids you well, and sends you off.

Your first step off the bridge thumps your heart against the wall of your ribcage. A small, defining act of rebellion that signals the tone of this entire weekend. It feels wrong, like your mother might croak in direct consequence of your disobedience, but you take another step. And then another. And another. And the guilt gets easier to cope with.

Do you not deserve this? The right to move freely like all others in the cities?

You lift your hood and tighten the lapels of your cloak as you pass through the busy streets. A group of small children kick a ball back and forth in the square. Two men stand outside a shop, covered head-to-toe in soot, smoking cigarettes. A woman kisses her lover, bidding him a good day at work.

The lives of the people across the bridge have always fascinated you. So simplistic and happy, if a lot less fortunate. You know little about them—their schedules, their hobbies, their culture. All wrapped up in a neat little bow of dangerous.

The further down you go, the more the sunlight blots out and the air thickens, settling in your lungs like bitter-tasting smoke. Neon signs top the buildings, bathing the streets in bright, beautiful lights. But there's a wrongness to the place that you can't put your finger on. Something lurks in the shadows. Eyes pierce your back.

Despite your hesitation, you keep walking, mind set on completing your mission. You think to ask for directions to the nearest bar until a man you pass says you look like you suck a mean cock, and you abandon that plan in its early stages of development.

The streets continue to wind in a dizzying maze of lights, but the flurry of laughter and noise grows closer with each step you take. You need a bar. A nice drink, a pretty girl to talk to, and a place to recline for the mercy of your aching feet.

After rounding one final corner, the crowd thickens, and you know you've reached the lifeblood of the city. Nobody pays your blob of a form much attention, too busy arguing and smoking and dragging their peers along to their next destination.

You're enraptured. The street is so much livelier than Piltover, the people more outgoing and rowdy. Loud and animated, smiling and laughing, cursing freely.

But you haven't missed the dark corners where people weep, and cry out for food, and beg for money. You see the emaciation and the sickness and the violence on the outskirts of the crowd. Two dichotomies of the same city, wrapped up in a neon package.

You never could have expected this. So different from the stories that were fed to you by your elders, and you aren't sure how to process it. What to do about it.

Your mother would kill you if she knew you were here. Would lock you in your room and throw away the key until the time comes for the inevitable wedding, and then she would order your husband to do the same.

But for now, in this moment, you have none of that to worry about. None of the people you pass recognize the infiltrator in their midst.

A sign overhead catches your attention as a group of men stumble out the front door, hollering in celebration. You wait for them to pass before glancing inside, and spot a bar with alcohol lining the shelves of the wall.

Good enough for you after all this travel.

You step inside and stare at the room for a too-long moment, a scowling-faced woman shouldering you out of the way. The interior implies grandness. Velvet couches and tiled flooring, ceilings much too tall for the assumed outside. A golden light halos the room, smoke from the customers thickening the air. You aim a dry cough into your sleeve when the smell hits your lungs.

Women of all shapes, shades, and sizes, in various states of nudity pepper the furniture. You’ve never been granted the pleasure of openly ogling the feminine form, but in this place, they welcome it. Those seated on the couches spread their legs as you pass by, curling a finger to beckon you closer; one woman leans forward to display her sizable cleavage, brushing slender fingers down your arm; against the wall, a couple kiss like only they belong to the world, a thick, pale leg thrown over the man’s hip.

Your breathing quickens in your chest, heat boiling just beneath the skin of your face as you flee to an empty corner of the room.

This is not a bar.

On the back of your neck, a sweat breaks out, and you consider your options. For a too-long moment, you curse yourself for being so foolish as to think that the Undercity didn’t hold such open debauchery, and even more that you, sheltered as you are, could navigate it successfully. But if you could pull this off, what a way to prove yourself wrong. The unbelievable story you could tell your friends. A little rabbit wandering into the wolves’ den and making it out alive.

No running. You have to stay, to finish what you started.

The room falls quiet just as you ground yourself, and you glance about the room to spot the disturbance.

You find it—her—at the entrance. A presence larger than life, such gravitational pull in the sharpness of her eyes that you dare a step forward. Thick thighs, a trimmed waist, one muscled arm freed from her cloak. Dark skin and darker hair. Mouth-wateringly tall.

A squirrely man cowers as she passes, boots heavy on the floor, before the room fills with conversation and laughter yet again.

Dangerous. The antithesis of your family’s future for you, and you find yourself enraptured. A perfect revolt against the box you’ve been locked within.

She walks up to a richly-dressed woman standing at the bar, and they talk animatedly amongst themselves for a few long minutes. Long enough that your staring crosses into the territory of unsettling (you feel the strike of your mother’s palm on the back of your skull, and hear her remark of staring is rude, child).

Before you can look away, the richly-dressed woman waves a hand in your direction, and you tug the hood of your cloak further down your face in hopes that your presence continues ignored.

Fate does not smile on you tonight.

The woman that first mesmerized you strolls—no, not strolls, saunters up to you with a gait that screams ‘top of the food chain’. Anxiety flutters in your chest when she brazenly lifts your hood just enough for the light to hit your eyes.

Worse yet, she bends at the waist to lock gazes with you, as if flaunting the intimidation her height brings.

“I think you’re lost, princess,” she says, voice low and even, and a familiar heat licks up the back of your neck.

Humiliation.

Anger rears its ugly head, a response to her flippant tone. If she knew who you truly were, she wouldn’t dare address you in such a way.

You plant your hands on your hips, mouth curling into a disapproving frown. “I most certainly am not lost. I'm free to come and go as I please, same as you.”

Just like that, the tall woman grins, gaze sharpening as she takes you by the chin with large, warm fingers.

“You have any idea where you are?” The tips of those fingers dig into your cheeks, forcing a purse to your lips. “This isn't a place for girls like you.”

You freeze beneath her touch, a familiar warmth stoking in your belly, draining the anger from your bones. A sensation once relegated to explicit books and the caress of your own hand, a shameful thing that stamps you down to smallness.

“Girls like me?” The question comes out timid, garbled from the position of your mouth.

She drags her gaze up and down the length of your body, tilts her head at the salacious sight of your cleavage beneath the knot of your cloak. “Girls who have no idea what mess they're getting themselves into.”

Beneath the shroud of moonlight, you've touched yourself in bed to the exact type of woman that stands in front of you: rough around the edges, built like she could snap you in half (with a scowl to match), an aura that reeks of experience. Gods, her hands—large and warm with long, thick fingers that would feel much better in places designed for… stretching. Places that aren't the tender fat of your cheeks.

And then she releases you, rising to her full height. Looks down her strong nose at the surprise on your face. “Go home. Before you get yourself in trouble.”

You should heed her warning. She clearly knows more than you about many things, but therein lies the problem—your want to stay. A great reminder of why the risks you’ve taken must reap reward lest you trudge across that cursed bridge with your virginity still intact.

You'll most likely be engaged before the end of the month, and then you'll be tied forever to a man that your heart could never want. You need to know the touch of a woman before your fate is forever sealed.

Once upon a time, your mother said that your stubbornness would be your downfall.

“No. I came here for a reason, and I'm not leaving until I get what I want.”

“And what could a spoiled brat like you want with a whorehouse?”

“I don't think that's any of your business.”

“I'm making it my business.”

She takes three large steps forward, and you scramble back until the cold, hard wall halts you, the contents of your bag digging into your spine. Close enough to the woman to lean forward and kiss the swell of her chest (and what a lovely, large swell it is, tantalizing beneath the fabric of her cloak).

You understand now why the man cowered in her proximity. She commands the room, sucks the oxygen from your lungs with a simple glare.

Dangerous. Enchanting.

“No, I—I didn’t know this was a brothel.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you wish you could unspeak them, and by the smug look on her face, you’ve just proven her hypothesis correct.

“Oh, you’re a treat. My lucky day.”

“I don’t—“

She turns on her heel, heading toward the bar. “I’ll get you a drink.”

“I don't drink.”

A pause in her step to call out, “You do now.”

To be fair, you do drink, but you highly doubt that this place stocks anything more than swill, especially given the refined preference of your palette.

The woman from before steps up beside her as she waves the bartender over, and you watch, enraptured, as they lean in close and talk amongst themselves. Every few moments, they turn back to glance at you, and you shift your weight from foot to foot. You're no stranger to attention, but this is a strange place. The implication sends a chill down your spine. If anybody found out the true nature of your identity, you couldn't imagine what they might do.

The woman of your dreams holds out a glass to you, half-filled with amber liquid, and you glance around the room before creeping toward the bar. She bows upon your approach in a mockery of your status, and you yank the drink from her hand with a dismissing scoff. A bit of alcohol sloshes to the floor.

You can't stand her.

She traps you between herself and the well-dressed woman, long fingers curling around her own glass to lift it to her full lips. She tosses it back, the long line of her neck on display as—

You want her so badly your knees threaten to buckle.

Your drink goes down much less smoothly. Swill, just as you predicted. It burns your mouth, coats your tongue with the taste of antiseptic. A war of expression wages within you as your teeth grit on instinct to keep a grimace at bay.

“It’s so nice of you to join us, dear. Quite rare, but we’ve had a few Pilties work here in the past.” The well-dressed woman presses a hand to her chest. “You may call me Mistress Mave, and this here is Sevika.”

Your eyes squint as you stare at her, the bitter alcohol churning fierce in your belly. When you look over your shoulder, Sevika raises her empty glass in greeting.

And then you register Mave's previous comment.

Your head snaps around to regard her. “Wait, no! No. I didn’t come here to… work.” You wince at your choice of words, once again wishing you could take them back. “Not that there’s anything wrong with it, but I would do a very bad job.”

Mistress Mave’s gaze quickly cuts to Sevika before settling back on you. “So you’re a patron of this fine establishment?”

Beside you, Sevika takes a large gulp of her refilled drink, and you wince at the phantom burn in your own throat. “Girl didn’t even know this was a brothel.”

“Well, there must be some reason you’re still here.”

To ogle at a room full of under-dressed women. “Curiosity, I suppose.”

Mave shrugs. “As good a reason as any. Can’t be much excitement in that ivory tower of yours.”

“I liken it more to a gilded cage.”

She giggles, resting a warm hand on your shoulder, and you think for a moment that your insides might burn to a crisp. A wildfire of want rages within you, and the freedom of choice for the first time in your life dizzies you beyond belief.

You could buy a night with anyone in this room.

Unfortunately for you, the only person you truly crave cannot be bought, and she stares a hole through the bottom of her empty glass, lips twisted up in thought.

As if your gaze holds a tangible weight, she looks up at you. Leers at the expanse of your body like she can see through your clothes.

“So. You want some excitement.”

You swallow thick when she leans in close. Smells of leather and bourbon and something sickly-sweet that itches at the back of your throat. You wonder about her taste. The warmth of the space between her legs. What her expressive mouth might feel like on the more delicate parts of your body.

Now is the time. “Yes.”

A glint of metal slides across the bar top from Mave’s direction, only for Sevika to stop it with a palm (without taking her eyes off you, and that shouldn't be as arousing as it is). She picks it up with thumb and forefinger and presents it to you: a simple metal ring with a dangling key attached.

“Offer's open, princess, but I'll only ask once.”

You know what the key means. A private room. Alone with the most attractive woman you've ever seen. There's only one way this can end, and you're almost at the finish line.

So why do you hesitate?

Sevika pins you with a stare, commanding the attention of your gaze, and she must see the war that wages within you. She clenches the key in her fist and turns to walk away.

Your chest pangs from the sharp spike of your heart rate, and you clamp both hands around her thick wrist to halt her. “Wait, wait. I want to, I just… I've never done this.”

Yes. It's fear that leaves you wary. Fear of under-performing, of disappointing your family, of never coming back from this.

But the fear of never having Sevika triumphs all others.

Her lips stretch into a smile, eyes darkening to something predatory and heated. “That's all you had to say, princess.”

When she holds out the key again, you don't hesitate to take it.

Mistress Mave wishes you well as Sevika leads you toward a stretch of low-lit hallway at the back of the room. She walks you past door after door, muffled sounds of pleasure breaching the privacy of each room, and glances back to gauge your reaction. Raises her brows at the sight of your wide-eyed expression, but says nothing. You've already cemented your place in the realm of naivety. No need to rub salt in the bleeding wound.

She stops at the last door on the right. Unassuming, same as the others, and you aren't sure what you expected. You shift your weight as she takes the key from you and slots it into the lock, wary of what manner of debauchery might lay on the other side.

People enjoy all manner of odd things. Whips and braided rope and dripping candle wax. Orgies and audiences. Biting and bruises and blood.

Gods, you hope there isn't an audience.

She opens the door and ushers you in.

“Here’s your mansion for the night,” she says with a sweep of her arm.

You choose to ignore her comment, instead glancing around the quaint room bathed in golden lamplight. A full-sized bed sits in the center with two worn end tables on each side. A chair in the opposite corner, covered in dingy fabric. A suspicious red stain on the wall above it catches your attention, and nausea broils in your belly when you think too hard about how it got there.

You resist the urge to curl your lip.

Sevika steps up beside you with a wry smile, and your eyes lock on to the adorable gap between her front teeth. The only thing adorable about her. “What, not good enough for you?”

“It’s… fine.” At her amused exhale, you take a step back. “Isn't there a… a time limit on how long we can stay?”

“This room is mine. Nobody will bother us.”

Your eyes widen. “You have your own room here?”

“So you are judging.”

“I'm not. I just don't understand why anybody would want sex so often. I've heard it's more of a chore than anything.”

And yet, look where you are.

“What kinda shit do they teach you up there?”

You drop your bag by the door then step over to the bed and remove your cloak, spreading it out over the dirty sheets so you can sit comfortably. Who knows what manner of bodily fluids have befriended the fabric.

“No sex before marriage, sexual urges are a distraction, make babies until you either die or get too old.” You roll your eyes, reclining back on your hands as she steps over to you with a scowl. “My family is more… conservative than most other houses.”

“I can't believe I actually feel sorry for you.”

“How sweet.”

With a flourish, she removes her own cloak, tossing it behind her to land perfectly in the chair.

Truly, you try not to stare, but the woman is a masterpiece. Strong arms and legs, a trim waist, deliciously broad shoulders. For reasons unbeknownst to you, your interest most lies in the expanse of bare skin between her tight shirt and pants. The shadow of her hipbones, the dip of her bellybutton, muscles carved from stone.

Then there’s her arm. Metallic in make with a design so intricate you wouldn't dare try to map all the parts out, faintly whirring from the fan on the shoulder. A pretty gold that contrasts well with the shade of her skin. A glow of muted pink liquid settles in vein-like structures. You want to reach out and trace each little design with your fingertips.

Fever overtakes you, sends heat down your chest and spine to settle in the pit of your belly. You've never felt unadulterated want like this before.

She takes a seat beside you to remove her boots, spreading her legs to fit a warm one against yours. It's wholly unnecessary, and yet you squirm regardless, leaning into and away from the touch. The tilt of her mouth from your view of her profile—gods, what a lovely nose—proves that your reaction was her intention all along. You eat right from her palm again and again, and you love it (though you would rather die than admit such a thing).

In a rush, you're tugged to your feet and planted between her spread thighs, and she fusses with the hidden toggles on the back of your corset. She faces your body away from her, fingers hot and teasing against your spine.

You listen to her struggle for a long few moments, biting your lips to hide your laugh.

Who knew that a simple clothing item could best such a woman?

She growls, passing fruitlessly over each clip yet again. “How do you even—get this fucking thing—”

At the sound of a popping stitch, your smile sharply fades, and you twist away from her with a scowl. “Don’t rip it, you brute. This corset is worth more than your life.” A gift from your aunt for your twenty-third birthday. Your mother would surely kill you.

Her brow furrows, a shadow hiding away the pretty grey of her eyes.

Then the world flips on its side. One moment you're standing before her, and the next, you lay on your back, cushioned by a lumpy mattress, staring up at the ceiling.

The bed dips between your spread legs, and you lift your head to find her crawling over you. The sight is dizzying, a scene straight from one of your mother's novels—the heroine at the mercy of a dangerous warrior, much like a rabbit caught between the metal teeth of a trap. What always follows is a ravishing (you pray to any being listening that the pattern continues).

You swallow down the lump in your throat when she sits back on her haunches, your thighs framing the taper of her waist. Her touch sears you, alights your nerves with such sensation that your hips roll against hers on instinct.

In three quick tugs of her metal hand, the toggles on your corset snap from end to end, seams popping in the process. The clothing item falls away, revealing your breasts to her low-lidded gaze.

She tilts her head, eyes flickering over your midsection. “Cute,” she says, splaying a large hand over the expanse of your belly, callouses rasping against your skin. The tip of her middle finger brushes the underside of your breast, and something fierce and chaotic hammers away within your ribs.

You can't even be angry. Too aroused to conjure a complete thought. Already, the place between your legs thumps rhythmically, begging for her touch. For her mouth. For those long fingers you've admired since she took you by the face.

She quirks a brow. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head in response, breath stuttering on each inhale. The position is overwhelming, your center trapped against her pelvis, and you wish so badly that you could feel her without all the clothing between you.

“You’ve really never done this before.” More statement than question, as if the realization suddenly befalls her. And once it settles in her mind, she leans forward, sucking a rough, toe-curling kiss into the pulse of your neck. “Innocent little Piltie. Never thought I'd see the day.”

Inhaling a breath through your teeth, you reach up to comb a hand through her loose hair. If you were a bit more brave, you would take hold of that blasted hair tie and rip it out, but you resign yourself to the soft, thick strands that frame her neck.

Her treatment of you is rough, but never unpleasant. Relieving, in fact, given your perceived fragility by those around you. She sharpens her teeth on your most vulnerable spots: the curve of your neck, the line of your collarbone, the swell of your chest. Suckles at your skin like you’re her own personal canvas. Pulls you close with a muscled forearm beneath the curve of your back.

And although you wriggle beneath her, unsure of how to cope with so much sensation, you refuse to let her have all the fun. You shove at her shoulders with a low whine, and she separates from you with a sharp exhale.

“What?”

You tug at the hem of her shirt with shaking fingers, thighs tightening around her waist. “Take this off.”

She rolls her eyes, grumbles spoiled brat under her breath, but obeys anyway. Under no circumstances do you stare at the flex of her arms as she stretches them out then tosses her shirt aside.

At the sight of her wrapped chest, your excitement wilts, mouth twisting into a pout. Your fingers fit beneath the material. “This, too.”

Once the tie is undone, the wrap falls over your thighs, and suddenly, she sits before you bare from the waist up.

Your first pair of breasts, here to touch and kiss and lick, to indulge in, and though you've lived a life of excess, you know that no food or extravagant purchase or amount of gold will ever fulfill you like the sight of her. The curve of them bottom-heavy, nipples a few shades darker than the color of her skin. A puckered scar slices between her lower ribs, the perfect size for a knife, and you want to kiss it.

You want to—you—

Gods, you can't even think.

She exhales a laugh, removing the wrap from around her waist. “You've never seen tits before?”

She seeks to rankle you, but your brain locks onto the shape of her areolas. The perfect shape for your mouth.

“None but mine.” You extend your arms, desperate for the taste of her skin, its warmth. The weight of her against you. Your mouth waters. “Come here.”

“Mind your manners. Say ‘please’.”

You don't hesitate, hindbrain need driving your actions. “Please?”

Humming, she leans over you on her forearms, chest hovering directly above your face, each breath ghosting her soft skin against your bottom lip.

By the end of the night, you're sure to die of a self-induced heart attack.

In a surprising stroke of tenderness, she cradles your head in hand as you suck a nipple into your mouth. You attempt to recall the scenes from your favorite books, how the women in them enjoy their pleasure, and draw upon your lonely nights in bed for inspiration.

“Harder, princess. You won't break me.”

At her request, you suck her breast deeper into your mouth, fitting your tongue against her pebbled nipple. She exhales a sigh against the crown of your head, canting her hips against yours, and you moan around her flesh, meeting her arousal with your own.

She pulls away with a wet pop from your lips, hands darting to the buttons on your pants. Makes quick work, tugging both them and your underwear down your legs before meeting the leather of your boots. You sit up to help her, unclipping the straps down the sides.

Your need is palpable, same as hers. The anticipation makes you clumsy and off-balance, a flutter of giddiness sending you into a fit of giggles.

She rips your boots off by the soles, stepping back to let you finish as she works to remove the rest of her own clothes.

Everything happens fast. Your trousers land in a heap on the floor at the bottom of the bed, and two different hands, one organic and one metal, grab you by the legs to seat you at the edge of the mattress. You blink and her mouth is on you, teeth latching onto the seam of your inner thigh. So close to where you need it, and you reach down to guide her with a hand in her hair. In a striking display of speed, she catches you by the wrist with her metal hand and pins it down to the bed.

As punishment, she moves her lips further up your thigh, marking her trail with sharp nips of her teeth. Pain melds into a pleasure that leaves your jaw slackening, your hips twitching toward the wet heat of her mouth, begging of their own accord.

You never thought you would enjoy being pinned down and marked up and thrown about like you weigh nothing, but Sevika has opened up a deeply-buried box of desires that can never be closed again. You want more this, of her, of whatever she chooses to give you.

You can dissect the why later.

“Please, Sevika. Please.”

The sight of her between your legs, furrow-browed and glaring, mean in the best possible way, sends another wave of heat to the pit of your belly. “Why should I?”

She rests her thumb on the root of your clit, trailing along its hood. Waiting for you to respond, to give her an adequate reason behind your selfish indulgence.

You don't have one.

“Because I need it.”

She clicks her tongue, moving her thumb to tease over your labia, dipping just enough into your entrance to coat her skin with your slick.

“Brat like you gets everything she wants. About time you had to wait for something.”

When your hips begin a desperate grind to chase the sensation, she pins you to the bed with her metal arm, your wrist still gripped in hand.

Only when you stop your struggle, when you submit beneath her does she give you what you've been begging for. You clench around nothing, muscles of your thighs tensing as she finally, finally presses her tongue against you. Long, languid strokes of soft wet heat that steal your breath each time she reaches your clit. She kisses your—your pussy like she might kiss your mouth (gods, how vulgar), rolling her tongue over your clit, sucking your labia into her mouth, licking into you so deep that your back arches off the bed.

The silly books hidden beneath your mattress could never do this justice. The pathetic feeling of your own hand could never compare. How foolish of you to believe otherwise.

You feel flayed alive when she pulls away with a wet squelch, a large finger pressing into you. “Cute down here, too,” she says quietly, as if musing to herself. Your thighs shake when she begins a steady rhythm, the schlick of your insides loud in the small room. “Sensitive.”

You've never been this wet before. She's carved out your innards and replaced the empty cavern with need and heat and instinct. You thrash against her hold, desperate for stimulation, and she presses her arm harder across your hips to keep you still.

This is what you've been looking for, craving for so long. To be trapped and vulnerable and at the mercy of a pretty, intimidating woman.

You can't do much to guide her besides whimper and moan and beg and plead, the only free part of your body—your hand—fisted in the sheets beside your head. She feasts on you like it's an act of worship, messy and wet, mechanical fingers curling around your own.

Once she latches her mouth around your clit and slides another finger into you, it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time for you to reach your peak. Your subdued hand tightens into a fist, metallic edges digging into your skin, but you can't bring yourself to care. Not when every muscle in your body tightens in preparation for an atom-rending orgasm.

Time suspends just before the coil in your belly snaps, and your chest burns from the rib-stretching breath you hold, and your knees curl toward your chest to fully expose yourself to her mouth.

She suckles hard enough that the pleasure sharpens into a knife, thick fingers still stretching you open, forcing through the first milking clench of your insides, and you break.

For a moment, you believe your soul separates from your body as every nerve alights with sensation. Fractals appear in the blackhole darkness of clenched-shut eyes. You curl in on yourself, muscles aching from how tightly they wind. Her muffled groan vibrates against you, and some shoved away part of your brain purrs at the thought of her getting off to this—to pleasuring you.

As quickly as your peak came, it leaves, and you sag against the sheets, extremities gooey and useless, gasping for breath. Utterly spent, wrung out, at her mercy.

She no doubt prefers you like this. Perhaps that's why she approached you in the first place: one of Piltover's finest standing in the corner of some seedy brothel, doe-eyed and scared, ripe for the picking. Perfectly corruptible.

Fortunately for you, this is what you came for.

A wet hand pats your cheek, hard enough to jostle your head. “Hey. You alive?”

Untrusting of your vocal chords, you release a throaty whine, blinking open tired eyes.

“Good. Now scoot.” She smacks at your flank as the bed slowly dips beside you, and your body jolts into action. “Top of the bed.”

If you had an ounce of thought to your brain or the energy to move your mouth, you would snap at her for being so demanding, for ordering you around like a dog. But your face burns when your pussy clenches around nothing, drooling onto the sheets.

You actually like this.

What is wrong with you? Your fantasies never ventured into pain-filled territory, and now you silently wish for her to spank you again like a misbehaving child. You should feel shame, but you don't, and you can’t help but wonder how that could be.

She is a witch, and you’ve fallen under her spell. The only theory that makes sense inside your orgasm-addled brain.

“Can I… return the favor?”

She stands before the end table, rifling through the contents of the drawer. Long, sinewy legs on display, the curve of her bottom perfect for grabbing. “No.”

“What? Why?”

“Because. I don't teach.”

“I’m a very fast learner.”

She turns toward you with a glare, hand holding two objects you can’t yet identify. “No.”

You pout, eyebrows canting upward in your best pleading expression, and you want to taste her so badly that you consider throwing a tantrum, but decide against it once she rejoins you on the bed. As if she would budge anyway.

Your eyes are drawn to the movements of her hands and the leather straps that she buckles around her hips and thighs. High quality and sturdy with a piece of thick fabric beneath a metal ring covering her pelvis.

“What is that?”

“You’ll see.”

She picks up a phallus-shaped object from between her thighs, and your eyes widen at the sight of her slotting it into the metal ring.

A fake… cock (gods, what's gotten into you?), of thick girth and average length. An inset of flowing pink veins. It's daunting, a bit scary to look at.

She expects you to take that?

You fiddle with your fingers as she coats the thing in lubrication, and although you don’t have second thoughts, per se, you need to know that she’ll take things slow.

“It looks like it’ll hurt.”

She smooths a rough palm over the skin of your thigh, squeezing the fat beneath her fingers. “Won't hurt you unless you want me to.”

You believe this utter stranger for some odd reason, and that eases the ache in your chest.

“Can we go slow?”

She scoots in close, to the same position as before—on her haunches, your thighs around her waist. Thumbs at the fat on your hips, looking down at you with a wrinkled brow.

“I’m not a monster.”

Your face softens at her hushed tone, shoulders relaxing from around your ears. “I know you aren't.” You brush a stray hair from her brow, palm cradling the blue-hued scars on her face for half a second before she pins your wrist to the sheets beside your head.

“I'm going to fuck you now.”

You flatten your lips into a line and nod, the grim expression on her face clearly wishing for you to shut your mouth.

You can do that, as long as she makes good on her promise.

The first brush of the fake cock over your clit is warm. Warm and giving and soft as a human body, which strikes you as peculiar. Because it isn't, and it shouldn't feel like an extension of her, but it does.

You tense up in anticipation, thigh muscles flexing, tugging her closer, and she squeezes at the flesh beneath her fingers. Says, “Don't. Relax.” She thumbs over your wet clit, a sudden rush of sensation that coils around the knots of your spine, and you bloom for her, sinking into the sheets. “There you go.”

She doesn't stop until your breathing deepens and the pit of your belly starts boiling with heat, and you shudder at the press of her cock against your entrance.

“Please. Please, just—”

“I know.” Her voice softens into an almost-coo, the closest thing to tenderness you'll most likely get from her, but it's enough.

Something sweet and warm swells in your chest as she presses into you, achingly slow—an inch forward, an inch back, again and again until her pelvis meets yours, your insides stretched deliciously, full up to your ribs.

And just like that, your mission is complete. Not only have you lost your virginity, but the most beautiful woman you've ever laid eyes on is the one impaling you. And as she promised, it doesn't hurt. She sees to your pleasure like she’s paid for it, still circling your clit, metal fingers carefully plucking a nipple. Plays your body expertly, makes you melt beneath her, morphs you into something pliant and needy—sexual being first, human second.

When she begins moving, she doesn’t stop, hips rocking in a long, languid rhythm that steals the breath from your lungs. The best thing you’ve ever felt, perfection, more you need more you need—

“Harder.”

A simple request, a two syllable word that defies the impossible weight of your tongue. It comes out garbled and strained, embarrassingly weak, yet the concentrated wrinkle of her brow throws you off.

No more teasing. This is serious.

“There’s a word you’re supposed to say,” she says, voice even-toned and normal, a sharp contrast to the way she’s ripped you apart, to how you gasp and whimper.

“Please?”

Begging comes easy as the rational faculties of your brain shut down one right after the other, and she leans forward, prosthetic fingers encircling your throat.

“Again.”

A light squeeze against the thump of your pulse leaves you moaning, the chill of the metal a perfect contrast to the flushing heat of your skin.

“Please?”

This time she grins, lips stretching wide, eyelids lowering to cast her gaze in muted shadow.

“Good girl.”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as her thrusts pick up speed, her hips slapping against the back of your thighs, each bottom-out slick and noisy. With your free arm, you cling to her, the bend of your elbow fitting over the nape of her neck. She lets you pull her close, the muscled expanse of her stomach flattening against yours (impossibly warm, the skin soft, fuzzy below her navel), her teeth biting hard at the curve of your shoulder.

You clench around her as the sharp pleasure-pain darts down your spine, tilting your head back to expose more of your neck to the roughness of her touch—the fingers still heavy against your pulse, the mouth hell-bent on marking you for her own satisfaction (and, to a lesser extent, yours).

A burning sun builds at the base of your spine, the sensation deeper set than your previous climax, heavy between your hips, unraveling you down to your bone marrow. You relax into it, spreading your thighs in invitation. A silent begging.

Her lips latch onto the underside of your jaw, and you finally steel your resolve and rip the tie from her hair. Fist a hand in the thick strands, tug hard enough that she pulls away with a groan, thrusts pausing, almost nose-to-nose with you.

And she smiles, an excited, almost vulgar curl to her lips. “Bunny’s got teeth, huh?”

You want to kiss her. She even teases the idea, taking your lower lip between her teeth, and all the heat in your body rushes to your face. Your breathing quickens, every nerve in your body bending to her will.

Her mouth brushes against your ear, breath fanning over your skin. “Roll over.”

You open your mouth to complain, and she slides two slick fingers over your tongue, deep enough to gag you before pulling back.

She tilts her head, nose brushing against the heat of your cheek. “Are simple instructions too hard for you now?”

You hum your dissent around the intrusion in your mouth, tasting yourself on her skin.

She pulls out, leaning back far enough to loop her metal arm beneath your hips and flips you over. A rough smack to your bottom (”Up,” she grouses) has you rising to your knees, face buried in the sheets. The mattress dips on either side of your legs, and she wastes no time sliding back into you, the slick sound of your pussy bringing heat to your cheeks.

In this position, her cock feels impossibly deep, heavier and thicker inside you. The hands that grip your waist keep you still as she rocks her hips, building up to the rough pace she set before as you mewl and cry and drool into the corner of the pillow between your teeth.

Your brain whites out as climax overtakes you, fizzling all the tension from your bones, her hands the only thing keeping you upright as pleasure unfurls from the deep pit within your very soul. More full-bodied and languid than any others that came before, as if she's unlocked some pleasure center you never knew you possessed.

You'll think about this night for the rest of your life.

Her thrusts slow to a crawl to give you a chance to recover, palm soothing the sweaty skin over your spine. The perfect touch to center you back inside your body.

You're exhausted. Wrung out. Satiated and purring.

You reach a hand back to press against her lower belly, a silent signal that you're done for the moment. She pulls out of you with a chuffing laugh, massaging the fat of your thigh one final time before rolling off the bed and unbuckling the straps of her harness.

“Still alive?”

At the sound of her smugness, you open a bleary eye to glare at her, though you might get a bit distracted at the tufts of dark hair between her thighs and the sheen of sweat on her skin in the glow of lamplight. You consider biting her just as she's done to you, carving your signature into the thin flesh of her wrist, though your reasoning lies more in the realm of dog that's had their tail yanked one too many times.

She joins you in bed. Sinks into the sheets with a heavy sigh through her nose, beads of sweat drying on the bridge. Picks up a metal case from the bedside table and opens it to reveal a row of thin cigars, like the ones your father smokes.

When she lights it, the smell reminds you of home, and you swallow down the guilt that rises like bile in your throat.

Then silence.

You drift for a while, basking in the afterglow, before an emptiness opens up between your ribs. A strange loneliness that can only be filled by skinship. You edge toward her, bridging the gap between your bodies, and upon your first touch against her arm, her head snaps to look at you, eyes wary, brow pinched.

“I don't cuddle.”

You blink. “Oh.”

That stings. It shouldn’t, given the nature of everything that came before, her averseness to non-sexual touch, but you need… something. A hug, perhaps.

You scoot away from her and wince at the soreness of your muscles, curling up on your side.

Definitely a long, hot bath, with the floral smelling soaps and oil infused salts you keep stocked in the cabinet beneath your bathroom sink.

Surprisingly, she doesn’t leave. She stays next to you in bed, still puffing away on her strangely small cigar, and the bitter smell settles a comforting warmth in your lungs. Like a mug of tea on a cold night, or dinner by the fire, or the smell of clean sheets.

Briefly, you wonder what memories bring her peace. If she even possesses such things.

“You really should go home,” she says, smoke curling from her nostrils. “There’s nothing else for you here.”

You pick at a cigarette burn in the comforter, unable to meet her eyes. “You’re probably right.”

“I am right. You’ll be chewed up and spit out before sunrise.” She leans in close, eyes lidded, the smell of tobacco soaking into her skin. “You’re lucky I found you first.”

You want to kiss her, to smudge your lipstick against the curve of her mouth, but you can’t find the bravery to follow through. No doubt, she would grab you by the face and say, ‘I don’t kiss.’

Instead, you smile. “I agree.”

She huffs out a breath through her teeth, settling back against the headboard.

And then she rests a large, warm hand on your head, thumb smoothing over the curve of your cheek. Tender and intimate—much too sweet for the tone she's set thus far.

“This is all I can give you.”

You lean into her touch like a dog begging for a scratch, uncaring of how pathetic it makes you seem. “I understand.”

You lay like that for a while. Soak up her warmth and attention as the air thickens with the smoke from her strange cigar.

A piece of you mourns for the future, for the inevitable truth that you'll never see this woman again. You'll leave to Aunt Elise's in the morning to heed Sevika's words, and you'll go home to your mother's cage and Tristan's proposal, and you'll accept your fate with a smile.

“My family doesn't know I prefer the company of women,” you whisper, and you aren't sure why you chose her, but you have to get your secret out before the noose tightens around your neck. “I know you don't care, and I'm not asking you to. I just needed to say it out loud for the first time.”

She sighs. Quietly says, “Well, you did.”

Her comment is not angry, or snarky, or bitter, but pitying. Sympathetic.

You don't really deserve it.

“Thank you. For everything.”

She scrunches her nose in discomfort, but says nothing. Pulls away from you to stamp out the fire of her strange cigar.

You wonder what she’s thinking. What she’s been thinking this entire time. More of a mystery than you could have ever predicted.

Why did she choose you? Was it because of your perceived status, or in spite of it? Did she enjoy what happened? Was it like scratching an itch, or will she think about you from time to time?

Perhaps you’re the one thinking too much, but your mother once told you that your first time would be remembered for the rest of your life. (Another reason why your husband should take your “purity”.) You’re an hour out from the experience, but you already know she’s right.

As the night continues, you have each other again and again and again, trying all manner of things. She lets you suck on her—“they’re called tits around here, princess”—as she stretches you with two fingers. Lets you ride her thigh for twenty minutes while she leaves kisses on the column of your throat (a particularly erogenous area for you, you discovered). Even lets you take a hit of her small cigar in between rounds, and you cough so hard you almost throw up.

During each downtime, you talk. About Piltover, and your trip through the Undercity, and your hobbies back home, and your family, and your suitor. She says little each time, simply dozing on her side of the bed as you babble away, and you aren't sure why she lets you talk her ear off. She's a puzzle you lack all the pieces to.

By morning, you’re covered in hickeys and bite marks and deliciously sore between the legs. Sevika snores next to you in bed, on her stomach, head half-buried by her pillow. Hair blanketing her face.

You take stock of yourself as you stretch out your legs. Achey but relaxed, foggy-brained by the throes of sleep. You don't regret last night. There's no guilt or shame rustling around inside your head. You accomplished your mission with outstanding success, and your heart feels lighter as a result.

But something nags at you: the prospect of going home to your gilded cage.

And after seeing the streets of the Undercity, the circumstances of the people who live here, your dread does inspire guilt. Your parents never told you about it, forbade you from ever seeing the heart of the destruction, and you feasted on the lies because you didn't know any better.

Well. Now you do.

And still, you aren't sure how to help. If you would even make a difference.

You never expected this outcome from what was supposed to be an exciting journey to sleep with a pretty woman.

For now, you'll go to your aunt's then you'll return home and play your role well and forget that this night ever happened for the sake of your sanity.

Tradition never changes. Suffering is an unfortunate facet of life. Destiny is set in stone. What's the point of trying?

All you can do is make this moment last.

You roll onto your side and roam your eyes over her face, the features you still see beneath her curtain of hair. She grumbles in her sleep, nose scrunching as she dreams.

Maybe it would be better if you left now. To rip the bandage off. There’s nothing more to say, nowhere to go from here in regards to your severely short relationship with Sevika.

You creep out of bed and collect your clothes from the floor. Choose a new outfit from your bag and quietly slip it on. Behind you, the bed creaks, and you freeze in place, turning your head to look at her.

Still asleep, stretched out on her back.

You wish you had some paper to write a note with, to share some last minute words. But you don’t, and your chest aches at the thought of leaving her without saying goodbye.

It’s better this way.

On your way out of town, you drop your entire bag of gold next to a sickly woman and her child. The same duo you saw last night, cuddled beneath a shared blanket.

She smiles at you, grabs you by the hand and squeezes as tight as she can manage.

A drop in the water to solving the issues that plague these people, but it’s a start. Not like you need the money anyway.

When you finally venture into the research outpost after a while of travel, Aunt Elise greets you with a twinkle in her eye and a crinkled nose and says, “You need a bath, girl.”

[suncoved]

BIG MAN ON CAMPUS! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; fratboy!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary; you come to your first college party and have the worst panic attack of your life. who knew your knight in shining armour would be the captain of the biggest fraternity and the biggest fuck boy on campus

warnings ; panic attacks, anxiety, drugging, angst but like fluff!!

"Liv, i'm really not sure about this"

You're best friend and roommate looked at you with a blank stare, watching as you pulled the tight white dress down that had ridden up your thighs. She had dragged you out of your dorm only 20 minutes ago, telling you that if you didn't come she was going to wake you up with a bucket of ice water.

"Cmon babe, you made me promise i would drag you to at least one party this year. and i don't break a promise. Which also means that i promise if you don't like the first 30 minutes, then we can go home and eat 30 pounds of ice cream and pass out in our makeup"

You smiled at her, trying to push yourself through whatever anxiety was coursing through you. Liv was really a good friend, even if she was harsh about it at times, you know that she wanted the best for you.

The smell of booze and sweat hit your nose immediately as you walked into the frat house, the music blasting and the rainbow lights blinding against the otherwise dark space.

Liv pulled you to the corner of the living room, smiling brightly at you and giving you an extra tight hug. "Ok! I'm gonna go get us some drinks, stay right there and don't move!"

She had to yell because of how loud the music was, wasting no time before disappearing into the kitchen.

You stood in the party like a fish out of water, biting your lip as you looked down at your feet.

You'd like to say that you weren't that much of an introvert. I mean sure you liked to be curled up with a good book from time to time, and you were studying a bit more than healthy. But you like to go out and shop with friends, talk to new people in your classes and slumber parties on the weekends.

But parties were something you did not do. It had a combination of all the things you disliked most in life. loud music, people yelling, drinking, flashing bright lights and... frat boys.

You'd already been brought out of your shell at college, you were confident enough now to present in classes and partner up with new people on assignments, but this was pushing it.

You were a sweet girl, but naive. You didn't have enough experience with greedy men and even you would admit that you resembled a lost deer more often than you would like.

You lifted your head as you heard someone approach you, looking up quickly as you assumed it was Liv coming back from the kitchen.

But it wasn't Liv.

A brunette looked straight at you as you made eye contact with him, a red solo cup resting in his hand.

"What's a pretty girl like you standing here all alone in the corner" he stated, inching closer to you as you subconsciously stepped back a bit. "I'm Jeremey"

He reached out his hand to you to shake, only to receive a dumbfounded look on your face.

"Normally people reply back with their name, Babe"

"Oh! Sorry!" you replied flustered, repeating back your name as he grinned wide, showing his bright smile.

You didn't want to admit that when Jeremy was talking to you, you continually kept glancing over at the entrance to the kitchen, hoping that the next person to walk out was Liv, who was going to hopefully come to save you from this conversation.

"Hey, I was experimenting in the kitchen, wanna try my new concoction." Jeremy dangled the red solo cup in your face, the liquid pink and smelling of strawberries.

"No thank you. I don't drink" you replied sweetly, hoping to be polite and not upset him. "There's barely any in it, promise. Pleaseee, don't wanna hurt my feelings, do you?" He replied in annoyance.

A pang of hurt shot through you as you panicked, how could you have been so rude! Jeremy was taking time out of his day to talk to you and you rejected a drink he made you?

"Oh! no, I'm sorry. Thank you so much" you replied, taking the cup out of his hands and looking down at the liquid. He watched closely as you took a sip, your face twisting at the strong flavour of vodka.

"What do you think?" he smirked as he asked, bringing his hand up to your lips and wiping the extra liquid off with his thumb.

"Its- its great, thank you" you replied, your heart beating faster as you started to feel increasingly more uncomfortable. He watched you closely as he hinted to you to drink more, looking down at you like he was a wolf, and you were his prey.

You held back tears as you felt the room start to spin under your feet, your cheeks feeling hot and your hands shaking involuntarily. It hit you quickly that this wasn't alcohol that was making you feel like this, no, it was something else. Something much, much worse.

And you didn't want to stick around to figure out what it was.

"Um, sorry Jeremy, I need to go to the bathroom" you spoke up, using all your courage to push through the crowd quickly as he followed.

Your breath was now speeding up as you fought your way through the waves of people, your steps becoming faster as you felt the room spinning more and more, tears streaming down your face.

You didn't know where the bathrooms in this place were, but you didn't have time to think about that now.

You just needed to find Liv, or someone, anyone.

Your eyes fell on a room at the end of the hall, light spilling out of the crack where the door failed to meet the floor.

You didn't have time to think, just to act. Your balled fist made it up to the door, knocking over and over again as you looked behind you, Jeremy in the crowd but looking all over for what you assumed to be you.

You didn't even want to begin to imagine how stupid you looked, or how impolite you were being as your knocks became harsher and frantic as Jeremy came closer.

"Jesus, learn how to wait your fucking turn" a voice sounded as the door opened. you didn't even look away from Jeremy as you tumbled into the bathroom, accidentally bringing the person in the door with you.

"Yo, what the fuc-" the aggressive voice came to a halt quickly, but you all you could focus on was your breathing, which was out of control.

Your cheeks were wet with tears as you closed your eyes, bringing your hands up to your face and letting yourself sob. "I- I can't breathe" You let out, unknowing if you were talking to yourself or the person in the space with you.

You couldn't even handle your anxiety and emotions when you were in control of your body, let alone now.

That's the main reason you don't drink, because you tend to freak out to the point of no return, and this, this was much worse.

Your face was buried in your hands as the person softly closed the door to the bathroom. You didn't even register him softly moving you to sit on the toilet seat in the bathroom, kneeling down and removing your hands from your face.

You opened your eyes to see a man's face looking back at you, his features painted with worry and his body distanced enough away from you as to not upset you even more.

"Hey- hey. Its ok, what's wrong?" the boy asked, trying not to show how confused he was on how to deal with this situation. "Are you hurt?"

You shook your head quickly at his statement, your tears slowly coming to a halt as your vision became less blurry. You could now see his face more clearly. Fluffy dirty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, soft pink lips.

"Uh, um. Wait" He spoke, breaking eye contact with you for the first time since you entered the bathroom. He started frantically opening draws and cabinets, stopping when he found a box of tissues under the sink.

"Here" you looked between him and the box he was handing you before taking it in your hands, your fingers brushing past each other momentarily.

"Thank you, i-i promise I'm not this much of a mess all the time." You replied, earning a soft smile from the man. "It's ok, it happens to the best of us. Have you taken anything, or just drunk?" He asked delicately.

Rafe didn't understand what he was feeling at this moment. Because he'd never felt it before.

Sure he could be an asshole sometimes, He was rude and got into fights on occasion, and he had been known to make girls complete the walk of shame out of his room involuntarily after a big night out, but that didn't mean he would ever leave a clearly intoxicated girl alone at a frat party.

But this, this was different. He had to know what was wrong with you, and he had to fix it. Sure you were a mystery to him and only met you seconds ago, but he wasn't leaving until he knew you were safe and sound... and had given him your name.

"I don't drink- or, at least I didn't. This boy gave me something, it tasted weird. Then I got all dizzy and now- now I can't stop crying" You rambled, sighing softly and looking into his eyes.

He gazed back at you, running his tongue around his teeth before seemingly snapping out of the trance he was in. "Did you know the guy?" He huffed, obviously agitated with your reply as he ran his fingers through his hair.

You shook your head softly, a wave of sadness running through you because you couldn't give him the answer he wanted. Tears started running down your face again suddenly as you kept repeating 'I'm sorry' over and over again.

He lifted his thumb up to your cheek, softly brushing the tears away. "Hey it's okay, Don't worry. I'll keep you safe"

He didn't understand the feelings he was feeling, He had never craved to protect someone so much, He had never been this gentle in his whole life.

"What's your name?" he asked, distracting you to hopefully stop the flow of tears streaming down your face. He felt like if you didn't stop crying in the next minute, he was going to lose it.

You answered your name to him, earning a soft smile. "I'm Rafe, it's nice to meet you." He finished the sentence with your name, sending shivers down your spine.

"Liv" You gasped, making his head tilt in confusion before you shot up from your seat. "Wow, ma. Slow down, what do you mean?" Rafe replied, holding your hips to stop you from completely falling over. You sat back down quickly in defeat, your eyes wide with panic.

"Liv, I-I came here with my friend Liv. I'm gonna scare her. I need to find her." You gasped, your voice trembling as you spoke. "It's ok, We'll find her. Don't worry, it's ok." He repeated, desperate for your face to get back to your normal expression, aka, not struck with terror.

It was obvious to Rafe through the glaze cast over your eyes, the shaking from your hands and the drooping of your eyelids that someone had slipped something into your drink.

He had hosted enough parties at his fraternity to know what insecure, probably small dicked boys, not men, can do to women. And it revolted him.

"R-rafe. I'm gonna go to sleep now" You whispered, your body finally giving out before you could stop it, his arms quickly coming up to stabilize you before you toppled over.

He bit his lip as he tried to figure out what to do, pulling your body into his arms as you didn't even stir. He was scared. So scared.

He didn't know what you were given, how much you were given, what would happen after you woke up, if you even woke up at all.

He carried you up the stairs and into his bedroom, unlocking the door and locking it behind him again. His room was the only one with a lock in the whole house, because he was damned if he was going to walk in on random strangers having drunk sex on his bed.

He rested you softly on his bed, making sure your head was comfortably on his pillow and resting a blanket over your body after taking your heels off.

He looked at your sleeping form, your long eyelashes resting on your cheeks, your hair falling softly over your shoulders and your chest rising and falling with your breaths.

He looked at you one last time before leaving his room, ignoring every person greeting him as he made a beeline straight for the living room.

He scanned over the large crowd in the house, numerous people dancing, some making out, his frat brothers doing keg stands, and one very panicked girl going up to every stranger she sees.

Rafe took no time before walking straight to the girl in the middle of the dance floor, tapping her on the shoulder. She turns immediately to face Rafe, her face struck with confusion.

"Are you Liv?" Rafe asks, earning a confused nod from the girl in front of him” I am! Have you seen my best friend anywhere? She's about yay height, really pretty, heart of gold, she kinda looks like that baby deer from that Disney movie, she's wearing this white dress and-"

Rafe stops her ramble with a quick nod causing her eyes to widen. "What? Where is she?"

"In my bed" Rafe replied, remembering he wasn't all that good with small talk. "What? What the fuck do you mean, in your bed? What did you do? I swear to god-"

"Ok, calm down. Someone gave her something. I found her in the bathroom sobbing before she passed out. I put her in my bed then came down here, end of story" He replied, starting to get slightly agitated.

The girl he now knows to be Liv quickly walks off, heading straight for upstairs where the bedrooms are. Rafe rolls his eyes before following swiftly behind her, though he's glad that there's someone out there other than him trying to protect his newfound soft spot.

Liv halts at all the bedrooms, looking expectantly at Rafe before he walks in front of her and opens his door. Liv immediately rushes to you, still passed out on Rafe's bed.

She sits next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear before placing a kiss on your forehead. "Of course, on the first party she goes to, some sick fuck roofies her and she ends up in Rafe Cameron's bed" Liv speaks, not taking her eyes off you.

"How do you know my name?" Rafe asks, not even bothering to look at the person he's talking to as he focuses on your chest rising and falling. "Ha, everyone knows who you are Rafe. And if I find out you had anything to do with her getting hurt, I'm gonna chop your dick off and feed it to you and make sure everyone on campus knows it"

It would be a lie to say Rafe wasn't slightly amused by your best friend's words, holding back his smile and keeping his face stern. "I would never do that shit. Especially not to her" Liv's eyebrow quirked in confusion at the last bit of his sentence.

She knows for a fact that you did not know Rafe Cameron before this night, let alone any frat boys. Liv could cry at the sight of your passed-out form, taking full blame and responsibility for the fact that you got hurt when she was meant to protect you.

She pulled her phone out from her purse, about to call an Uber back to the dorms for both of you. "No, I'll drive you" He stated, not leaving room for an argument

Liv nodded slowly before pulling the blanket off you, your body involuntarily starting to shiver from the cold air.

Rafe walked over to his closet, grabbing his warmest hoodie. Liv looked up at him as he raised your body softly, placing the hoodie over your head and softly lifting you up into his arms.

Rafe walked with Liv down to the road outside the fraternity house, receiving hundreds of stares from people in the crowd. But he didn't care, all he cared about was you.

He let Liv open the door to the backseat of his truck, allowing him to place you softly inside before Liv climbed in next to you, placing your head on her lap.

The ride was completely silent, barring Liv's directions to the dormitories, but she didn't miss the way he was constantly looking in the rearview mirror at you.

It didn't take long before Liv was leading the way to your dorm, Rafe trailing slowly behind with you in his arms.

She flicked the light on in your dorm, Rafe quickly knowing which bed was yours from the multiple stuffies and pink blankets. He lifted the covers before placing your head on the pillow once more, knowing Liv was going to get you changed before she slept.

"Thank you, Rafe, for looking out for her when I didn't" Liv said as Rafe walked to your door, nodding curtly in repose to her statement.

He gave you one last look before he walked out of your door, watching as Liv was about to shut the door on him after saying goodbye. Panicked he placed his foot in front of the door before it shut, forcing it open.

"C-can I get her number, please?"

[bananami]

The One Where Bakugo is Different With You (and your friends kinda called it but are too dumb to fully connect the dots) katsuki x fem!reader

No one understands what it is you did to make him like you. You insist that you didn't do anything. They don't believe you.

Bakugo isn't nice to anyone. He tolerates people. Sometimes. In fact, it's not like he's even nice to you. But he is different. And everyone has noticed.

"That's her seat, get up." He snaps at Mineta as the boy sits down next to him.

"What, she has to sit next to you?"

"Get. Up."

Mineta doesn't hesitate.

You've known him as long as the rest of them, but for some reason he seems softer toward you. Kirishima is the first to bring it up to him.

"Do you like her or something?"

"She's my friend, of course I like her."

"Denki is your friend, you don't like him."

"Hey!" Denki yells from the other side of the couch.

Bakugo just grits his teeth and doesn't respond.

Even when riffing with him, he takes what you say differently than he does with everyone else.

"What if I just cracked this egg over your head?"

He looks down at you. "I'd be impressed that you could reach."

"That hot head would probably fry it." Sero laughs at his own joke.

Sparks began to form from the explosion hero's good hand. "I will blast you out of this building!"

And forget about anyone else asking him for anything. He doesn't really do favors, not unless he's hounded to do them. But for you?

"I'm hungry."

Bakugo stands from the couch and holds out his hand to pull you up with him. "Let's go try the new sushi place down the block."

Or

"I have an interview with the talkshow next week but they want me there at like six in the morning."

He doesn't even look up from his phone, where he's opening his calendar to schedule himself off of work that day. "I'll stay by your place and drive you in the morning."

OR

A bag falls into your lap and the blonde plops down next to you. "They were on sale."

You open the bag to find your favorite candies, letting out an excited squeal. "They've been out the last two weeks."

"I told the guy to call me when he got a box in."

Denki tries to reach his hand out for a box but it's slapped away by the larger blonde. "Touch it or her and I will personally cut off that hand."

And then there's Kirishima's personal favorite interactions to watch. Something Bakugo has done since living in the dorms at UA, through your roommate years where all of you split an apartment to save up money.

Bakugo would get up to leave the room and stop in the doorway, staring directly at you. "Are you coming?"

"Where are we going?"

"Check your phone."

You would look down at your phone and laugh every time. "Are you embarrassed to say it in front of everyone?"

"Shut the fuck up and get over here!"

Everyone could read between the lines, and his blush on his cheeks.

But you'd never officially dated. Anytime any of the friend group would ask about it, you'd both deny it and change the subject. Kirishima and Mina would narrow their eyes in suspicion at you and one another.

"You just treat her different than everyone else." Kiri would point out.

"Friends don't look at each other the way you two do, especially not Bakugo." Mina would accuse.

The answers were always the same.

"Mind your own shitty business." Bakugo would snap.

"You all just look too much into things. He can be nice at times." You would always insist.

It would take all the way up until a random work party Bakugo's agency was holding for the truth to come out. For Denki to walk in on the two of you in the bathroom-

"Practically devouring each other! It was disgusting!"

Bakugo rolled his eyes. His arms rested around the back of the couch with you tucked close into his side. "See this is why we kept it a secret for so many years, you're all being so dramatic about it."

"Years?!" Mina screamed. "How many years has this been a thing?"

You tried to avoid all eye contact with her.

"Since high school." Bakugo replied with ease.

"Since high school?!" Your friends gaped.

"When we were all living in the dorms?" Denki asked.

"Used to meet up on the old training grounds to make out."

"The apartment we all shared?" Kirishima narrowed his eyes.

"Snuck into each other's rooms like every single night, can't believe you guys never caught us then."

"When we all were interning at the same agencies?" Sero threw out there.

"Bribed the scheduling team to put the two of us on the same routes."

"Ok wait, but you guys told us you weren't and you used to talk about the different people you would go on dates with right in front of each other- oh my fucking god." Mina facepalmed.

Bakugo laughed maniacally as you tried to hold yours in.

"So you were talking about each other? Every single time?"

"Every. Single. Time."

Mina sighed. "This is actually insane, I can't believe you never said anything."

"I mean it's not like we should be that surprised, besides," Kirishima chimed in, "it's not like they're secretly engaged to be married or anything, right?"

Silence.

"Right?" Kirishima's smile falters a bit. "Please tell me you two aren't engaged."

Bakugo blinks a few times before responding. "Ok, we're not engaged."

"Bakugo!"

"Did you think I was just really nice to her all the time for no reason?"

[lexiputellas]

"Burn the Bridge," from the Broken Vows series.

Today is a beautiful day.

Or at least it would be—if not for your phone blasting through the room.

The curtains are shut, no sun slipping through, the AC humming at the perfect temperature. Freezing. Just the way you like it.

You squint at the screen, groggy, already knowing this can’t be good.

Alexia.

Her name flashes across your phone, demanding attention.

You answer. Because somehow, not answering could be worse.

“Why did you like a picture of Eva?”

You let out a dry laugh, rubbing your eyes. “Oh, hi. Good morning to you too, babe.”

“I’m serious.”

“So you still talk? Good to know.”

“That’s not it.”

You hum, waiting. “So what is it, then?”

“She jumped me at training, saying you were trying to destroy her life. She’s afraid you’ll expose her.”

That wakes you up. Your brows lift, and a laugh escapes before you can stop it—sharp, humorless. "Oh, that's rich. She sleeps with a married woman, helps wreck a family, and now she's the victim?" You lean forward, voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Did you hold her? Wipe her tears? Tell her you’d fix everything?"

Alexia exhales, exasperated. “Will you stop acting like a child?”

“Will you stop lying?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Alexia,” you sigh, turning to lie on your back, staring at the ceiling “I don’t have it in me for this. Either say something that matters or just—stop.”

“For God’s sake—”

“You can go running to poor little Eva and tell her, 'My wife isn’t exposing you, you can live your life to the fullest now, don’t worry. You already destroyed the marriage, the family. There’s really nothing left to ruin.’”

Silence.

Then, a sharp inhale. You can practically hear her grinding her teeth.

“You’re impossible.”

You smile, satisfaction curling in your stomach. “And you’re predictable.”

“You think I don’t regret it?” Alexia snaps, her voice cracking like glass under pressure. “You think this is easy for me? I wake up every day hating myself.”

“Oh please.” You throw your head back against the pillow, amused at the pathetic little performance. “Cry me a fucking river. Regret doesn’t mean anything if you still did it.”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“And you’re being pathetic,” you shoot back, sitting up now, fully awake. “Calling me first thing in the morning because poor little Eva is scared people will find out she fucks married women? Grow up.”

“I— That’s not the only reason I called.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not. You just missed me, right?” you sneer. “No one cares enough to ruin Eva’s reputation she’s already done a fantastic job on her own.”

Alexia exhales like she’s about to explode. “You think you’re so perfect? You think you didn’t push me away? You—”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you cut her off, voice cold, deadly. “Say it. Finish that sentence. Blame me for you crawling into bed with someone else. I’m begging you.”

She goes silent, but you can feel the fury vibrating through the speaker.

“That’s what I thought,” you say, voice dropping, almost amused by how easy it is to rip her apart now.

“You’re impossible,” she hisses.

“And you’re a coward.”

Another beat of silence.

“Fuck you,” Alexia snaps, venomous.

You sigh, shaking your head. “I’m going to tell you one thing, and pay attention. I’m not doing the back and forth with you anymore. I don’t recognize the person you’ve become, and I don’t know if I even want to have something with you. Change, or please leave me the fuck alone.”

You hear a sharp inhale, like she’s about to argue.

You don’t give her the chance. You hang up.

This time, it actually feels good.

[luvergirl-535]

meet cute, but worse

part - 1

word count - 5.1k

pairing - paige bueckers x azzi fudd

c/w - alcohol, throwup, mostly chaos lol. very very unserious.

a/n - my first piece in all lowercase letters and tell me why it was easier to write that way😔. anyway will release the other part to this before releasing anything else. can’t tell you when that will be, i’m booked and busy for awhile but i lowkey love this so i wanna keep writing sooner rather than later! based off this prompt 🙂‍↕️

(also, live reacts and feedback are very much appreciated 😛)

(also also, very unedited)

this night could not possibly get any worse.

with a face of ruined makeup, a lost wallet, and a chlorine-soaked designer dress, azzi fudd really begins regretting her decision to come on this cruise with chad at all.

especially considering chad—aka the guy who convinced her to come on the cruise, aka her boyfriend, aka the man who’s supposed to stay by her side and lead her through crowded rooms with a steady hand on her waist and buy all her drinks—has officially disappeared. and now here she is, standing outside the women’s bathroom wondering where her boyfriend, who’d promised to wait for her, has gone.

furious, azzi whips her phone out of her purse (both of which are still miraculously on her person, despite her horrible luck) and immediately dials her boyfriend’s number. if he doesn’t pick up on the first goddamn ring, azzi swears to god she’ll—

it goes to voicemail.

with a frustrated grunt, azzi sends him a quick, casual text: if you don’t get your ass to the room right fucking now i swear to god chad we’re over.

satisfied with that, azzi stuffs her phone back into her purse, runs a hand over her wet braids, and begins to make the treacherous journey back to her suite.

it’s midnight, which means all the minors on the ship have officially been sent to their rooms and all the adults have ventured to their various adult activities: r-rated comedy shows, drunken karaoke, and, for the younger adults, the nightclub.

it’s an indoor club, with strobe lights and surprisingly good music and amazing drinks. there’s a pool, and a bar, and some nice bathrooms.

it is this very bathroom—and this very nightclub—that azzi makes her way out of. it’s slow, and difficult, the club packed with inebriated bodies who seem determined to keep her from leaving. as she moves through the crowd, a few people give her strange looks, or stop to ask her why her dress is sopping wet. she ignores them all. if she didn’t, she’s not sure she’d have nice things to say.

she’s nearly at the exit when there’s a commotion directly behind her. against her better judgment, azzi pauses, turning to see where the loud, rambunctious noises are coming from. she regrets her decision to do so almost immediately—it’s nothing interesting, really. just a group of tall, clearly wasted girls playfully fighting with each other. based off the way they’re (badly) singing, they obviously know the song blasting over the speakers. almost all of them have drinks in their hands and azzi can’t help but roll her eyes at the way they’re hyping each other up.

even looking at them has azzi overwhelmed—she needs to get out of here. needs to get back to the comfort of her room, where she can pull herself together and chew chad out and get a good night’s sleep.

but, just as she resumes her exit, a body slams directly into her. she’s knocked off guard and absolutely helpless in the heels she stupidly put on earlier this evening, and she lets herself fall back into the rambunctious girls with something akin to resignation. this is it. this is my life now.

luckily, a few hands shoot out to brace her as she tumbles directly into their dance session. this means she doesn’t land on her ass, which is a good thing, but it also means she is currently being touched by, like, 12 different hands, which is a very, very bad sensory thing.

once she’s righted, azzi rips herself away from their grasps as calmly as anyone can rip away from something, and finds herself in the midst of their little circle.

“my bad,” she calls over the music, hugging her arms around herself in order to keep from bumping into any more sweaty bodies. “i got pushed and—“

“you okay, girlypop?” one of the girls says.

“yeah, that looked scary!” another younger, wide-eyed girl yells over the music.

azzi tries to reassure them, but they all start talking over one another at once, asking if she’s okay and apologizing and wondering if she wants to hang out for a drink and azzi backs up, imperceptibly, trying to escape from these drunk girls—but she bumps into someone else in doing so.

from then on, it happens in slow motion.

azzi turns around.

she catches a vision of blonde hair, someone slightly taller than she is.

she prepares herself to mumble an apology.

and then, with horrifyingly little warning, blondie bends over and pukes.

directly. on. azzi’s. shoes.

“oh my god!” azzi can’t help but cry, jumping back instinctively, and the other girls yell out with her.

“oh, shit!” the girl from earlier—one of the shorter of the group, the one with twists—jumps over to stand in between the puker and azzi. she puts her hand on the still bent-over woman’s shoulders. “boogs! what the hell!”

azzi thinks the woman might mumble in response, but she can’t hear much at all over the music. and she’s also a little preoccupied staring in shock at the bile on her feet.

with a sigh, the other girl spins around to face azzi. “i am so sorry, girl. she been acting crazy all night and honestly—we shouldn’t’a even let her out.” she tries for a good-natured laugh, but azzi just stares at her, mouth agape.

“right, guys?” the girl continues nervously, but then looks around and apparently realizes that the rest of her friend group have ditched her to take care of the awkward moment. she makes an offended noise. “fake bitches,” she mumbles.

with a little shuffle, the girl comes to stand beside her obviously ill friend, grabbing her by the shoulder and patting her on the chest. “so, uh, p, i get you’re going through it right now, baby, i really do. but you just threw up on this nice lady so i think maybe we should focus on one thing at a time.”

it’s only then that azzi’s attacker finally straightens up. her hands are placed firmly over her stomach, and her face is streaked with mascara—not to mention her complexion is slightly green.

but azzi recognizes her instantly.

and, despite the fact this girl is obviously not in her right mind, she recognizes azzi, too.

“paige?” azzi says incredulously, at the same time paige slurs, “oh, no.”

the other girl looks between them a little nervously, unsure of what to do next.

except, no, she’s not the other girl. she’s kk arnold, azzi recognizes now. guard at uconn.

and those other girls…fuck. azzi replays the memory in her mind, now with their faces attached to her resurfaced knowledge. they weren’t just some group of college girls.

azzi has had a run-in with the uconn women’s basketball team.

and she’s just been thrown up on by none other than paige fucking bueckers.

so much for getting a good nights sleep tonight.

—————————————

“so, remind me how y’all know each other?” kk says as they walk up to paige’s room. she has an arm around paige’s waist, fully supporting her, and she doesn’t look all too fazed by tonight’s events. azzi gets the feeling paige throwing up on people might be a regular event. which is just…awful.

paige answers with a groan.

sighing, azzi rubs her temple, trying desperately to ignore the smell of sick wafting up from her feet. “usa basketball. we played together.”

“oh,” kk responds. “you play?”

azzi doesn’t answer, just waits. paige elbows kk. kk says, “ow!” paige says, “kk, get your head out of your ass and look at her.”

so, kk does. she looks at her for the first time since they left the club, now under the bright hallway lights rather than the dim, strobing club ones. and it’s only a moment before realization dawns on her face. “oh, shoot! paige!” she stops dead in her tracks, letting go of paige to face her. “girl, that’s azzi fudd!”

“i know, kk,” paige mumbles.

kk turns to azzi. “you say y’all played together, what, 2018?”

“2017,” azzi and paige correct at the same time. azzi tries to meet her eyes, but paige has had her head hung low this entire time. she’s either sick or deeply disturbed or both. likely both.

they continue walking, and azzi recalls her time at camp. the memories are a little hazy, faded as all memories are. but she remembers paige—how could she not? the only girl who really gave her a run for her money, the only girl who met her competitiveness head-on. they played—well, they played amazingly together, oddly enough. azzi remembers she never really wanted to talk to the girl, who seemed loud and arrogant and overwhelming. but their chemistry on the court, without ever speaking to each other, was incredible.

she does have one very clear memory: the plane ride back. she’d been sitting in her seat, ready for the flight, when paige had hesitated beside her while walking down the aisle.

azzi had looked up, curious. “hi.”

paige’s cheeks had flushed bright red, which seemed completely out of character for the girl azzi had thought she was. “oh, uh. hey.”

azzi stayed silent.

paige scratched the back of her neck awkwardly. “hey, i, um.” it looked like she was trying to convince herself to say something—almost like she was building courage to say it. a little flicker of something bubbled in azzi’s chest. anticipation, maybe? she doesn’t know; she’s never been able to figure out what that feeling meant.

all she knows is she felt disappointment when paige had sighed defeatedly and said, “can i put my bag in your overhead?”

she’d nodded. paige had said thank you. and they’ve never spoken again.

“yeah, yeah,” kk waves them off, hauling paige the rest of the way down the hall. “whatever. basically, i’m tryna say, it’s been seven years since then, right?”

azzi presses the up button, then leans against the wall. “yeah…”

“well, paige has had a massive crush on you for about eight of them.”

in an instant, kk is turned around, paige’s front pressed to her back as they lowkey wrestle. paige has a hand slapped over kk’s mouth, but that doesn’t stop her evil cackling from coming through.

paige glances over her shoulder. “she’s lying.”

azzi watches the commotion, and thinks such a scene wouldn’t have been made if kk was really lying. “uh-huh.”

“serious,” paige insists. it’s the most emotion azzi has heard from her tonight.

“okay.” the door dings open, and azzi sucks in a deep breath, being the first to step inside. “well, uh…”

kk wrangles out of paige’s grip, walking somewhat sassily into the elevator. “yeah, let’s go. p!”

paige glowers at them across the threshold.

“c’mon, girly. get in here.”

they have to hold the doors open, but eventually, and not looking particularly happy about it, paige steps inside.

azzi begins to regret agreeing to go to her room with them.

————————————

“ok, take those shoes off, stink,” kk instructs as soon as they enter paige’s suite. azzi doesn’t hesitate to comply, slipping out of her heels without looking at them, careful not to dip her toes in any throw-up. although she’s sure there are more than a few fangirls who’d sell their soul for some paige bueckers bodily fluids.

once she’s out of them, she hovers by the door awkwardly, and kk and paige exchange a glance. they obviously have some sort of silent conversation within the second-long look, because it has kk laughing. “you’re funny.”

“please,” paige murmurs.

“hell, no. you puke it, you nuke it.”

“that doesn’t rhyme, stupid-head.”

azzi watches them, a small, amused smile coming over her face despite herself.

“wait, what?” kk says, leaning her ear towards Paige.

“i said—“

“ever,” kk interrupts with a wide grin. “now go nuke those nasty shoes, for real.” kk glances at azzi and gives her a once-over before saying, “and get fudd-fudd some dry clothes while you’re at it.”

leaning down, paige grabs the shoes by the heels and grumbles something as she disappears into the bedroom. once she’s gone, kk ushers azzi further inside, leading her into the kitchen. “so,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows. “you in love with her yet, or what?”

azzi scoffs. “she’s not exactly charming.”

“oh, no, she real charming.” kk glances at the closed bedroom door, then leans forward, motioning for azzi to step closer. when she does, kk lowers her voice. “she just gets nervous around you.”

“i haven’t talked to paige in years,” azzi says, a little confused. a crush, she understands—many people have had crushes on azzi before. but no way paige gets nervous around her, when they’re never even around each other to begin with.

“nah, but you notice how we’ve never won a game against y’all?” kk asks.

“yeah.” of course azzi’s noticed. most people have—uconn is the team to beat, but in the four years azzi’s been in college, they’ve never once won against ucla.

“ever wonder why?”

“because we’re better than you,” azzi responds all too quickly.

kk makes an unamused face at her. “no, it’s because paige is too busy having wet fantasies about you instead of playing the damn game.“

azzi waves this off. “excuses.”

“i’m being serious.” kk nudges her in the arm, then pulls her a little closer, once again lowering her voice. “and you wanna know something else?”

azzi sighs like she doesn’t, but really, she does—she’s always been too nosey for her own good. “tell me.”

“every girl p’s ever hooked up with is a mixed baller with curly hair and brown eyes. and if she has dimples, paige lets her stay the night.”

azzi downright barks out a laugh at this one. “i’m starting to think you’re making all this shit up.”

“just watch,” kk says cryptically. “you’ll see.”

azzi wants to ask more—like, is it confirmed that paige has wet fantasies about her?—but the bedroom door opens and azzi turns her head to see paige standing in the doorway, a pair of clothes bundled in her arms. azzi does her best to keep a straight face but she must look a little guilty because paige narrows her eyes at them. “what were y’all talking about?”

“how i been constipated lately,” kk says a little too quickly. azzi valiantly keeps her expression neutral. “azzi was giving me advice.”

azzi nods somberly. paige looks borderline mortified, which is not a look azzi ever thought she’d see on someone like her. “can you try to be cool for once?” she asks kk.

“you’re the one who puked on her,” kk says. “if she could get scared away, she wouldn’t be here.”

paige sighs, stepping closer, into the kitchen with them. her cheeks are tinged pink, from alcohol or kk’s antics or—maybe something else, azzi thinks as paige avoids eye contact with her while handing over the pair of clothes. “uh, here.”

“thanks,” azzi says. she reaches for the clothes, letting her right hand just brush paige’s own before pulling back, watching for a reaction. there’s not much, but when paige’s hands are free, she shakes out the right one as if she’s been shocked.

azzi makes a little mental note. interesting. very interesting.

“you can change, um, back there,” paige says, throwing a thumb back over her shoulder before scratching awkwardly at her neck. “or, like, wherever, i’on care.”

azzi’s eyebrows raise on their own accord. paige opens her mouth, then closes it, then says, “i mean, you could also go to the bathroom or sum’. obviously you shouldn’t change, like, here. that’d be—weird.“

“riiiight,” azzi drawls, a small, amused smile playing on her face.

“so, uh, yeah.” paige sidesteps, motioning for azzi to pass. “go ‘head.”

——————————————

once she’s on her own, she takes it in—the privacy, the quiet. it’s been a long fucking night. she cannot wait to get to her own room and just sleep.

well, she’ll need a shower first. shower, then sleep. or maybe she’ll even indulge in a bath. the mere thought of it has her shoulders relaxing.

but then, her phone buzzes inside her purse. and her shoulders are tense all over again, because that’s got to be chad—texting her back thirty minutes late—and since when does she want to deal with chad?

a bit reluctantly, she pulls her phone out of her purse. it’s only at five percent and so she ignores all her other notifications, going straight to she and chad’s messages.

sure enough, he’s just responded to her last text: sorry baby, got caught up lmfaooo. you tryna fuck tn?

and then, sry for pushing u in the pool fr

waiting for you in da room

well, fuck.

that’s the first thing that crosses azzi’s mind. because, after the shit he’s pulled tonight—and every other night in the two months they’ve been together, honestly—they’re over. she’s done. which means she’ll either have to fight with him for their room for the rest of the trip, or sleep by the goddamn pool. and confrontation has never been her thing.

tossing her phone onto the bed, azzi discards of her purse, as well, before reaching behind herself to unzip her dress. her day might have been shit, but at least she finally gets to take this stupid dress off.

she fumbles a little before grabbing hold of the zipper. she pulls, and it gives about an inch before abruptly stopping.

furrowing her eyebrows, azzi pinches the zipper harder between her fingertips. pull, give. stop.

“shit,” azzi murmurs. this time, when she tries again, it doesn’t give at all, just says firmly stuck in place.

she already knows pulling it over her head or down her hips is out of the question—the dress shrunk like two sizes in the water. no way this thing is making it over her hips or shoulders without some leeway. so now here she is, stranded in the middle of paige bueckers’ room with a soaking wet dress and a broken zipper.

she considers marching out of this place without another word, going to her own room, fighting briefly with chad over it, and then cutting the damn thing off. but then she’d have to walk, shoeless, through the entire ship. and confrontation still isn’t her thing.

sighing, azzi tucks away her pride and goes over to the door, peeking her head out. the girls are still in the kitchen. paige’s back is turned, but azzi can see kk, and she has an amused smile on her face as they speak in hushed whispers. paige sounds mad about something.

azzi clears her throat.

paige visibly tenses, and kk’s smile only grows as she slowly turns around, looking very much afraid.

“uh,” azzi says, unsure what to make of the whole ordeal. “my zipper is stuck. i need help.”

god, please let kk volunteer, please let kk volunteer, no seriously, please let—

“paige volunteers as tribute,” kk says, shoving paige forward.

paige chokes. “no i don’t!”

“least you can do after throwing up on her,” kk says.

“that’s not fair,” paige argues. azzi would beg to differ, but she’s keeping her mouth firmly shut in the hopes of avoiding a potentially very awkward situation.

kk raises an eyebrow. paige sighs. then, resolve washes over her features, and azzi lets out a disappointed breath. fuck.

“okay, fine. sure.” paige is grumbling, eyes downcast as she heads toward the bedroom, and azzi shoots kk a dirty look before closing the door behind the two of them.

paige stands in the middle of the room, playing nervously with her fingers. azzi lets them sit in the awkward silence for a few moments before realizing paige is waiting for further direction.

“uh, yeah,” azzi says, stepping up to her before turning around. she grabs once again at the zipper, pulling it to show paige how stuck it is. “it’s not budging.”

paige takes a step closer, and azzi’s entire body tenses at the proximity. she doesn’t dare look over her shoulder, but she can feel paige, the drunken warmth radiating off her body, and she can hear her breathing. it’s without warning that paige’s fingers come to fiddle with the zipper, her knuckles brushing between azzi’s shoulder blades, and her body thrums with…something.

she is not usually like this when somebody has a crush on her. but she’s fresh off a self-proclaimed breakup and maybe that’s what’s making her feel so inexplicably tense.

“yeah,” paige says after giving the zipper a few tugs. “it definitely looks broken.”

azzi doesn’t say anything. every time she thinks she’s hit rock bottom, something else gets thrown at her. first the pool, then the throw-up, then a broken zipper. and through it all, chad. none of this would’ve happened if it weren’t for him, azzi thinks bitterly.

“we can try getting it off without unzipping it,” paige suggests. azzi turns her head to the side, not enough to see paige behind her, but enough to try and gain some composure. because paige implying that they will both pull this dress off of her leaves her warm.

“i already tried,” azzi says instead of agreeing, which is something she weirdly wants to do. despite knowing the dress won’t come off if it’s zipped, she wouldn’t mind letting paige try. maybe letting her pull the straps down her shoulders, or even lift the skirt over her hips…

okay, azzi. snap the fuck out of it.

in an attempt to salvage the situation, azzi blurts, “scissors.”

paige chokes. azzi closes her eyes in a silent acceptance of defeat. the universe is definitely out for her.

“wha—?” paige starts, but azzi doesn’t let her finish before whirling around with a casual smile, “i meant, we might need to get scissors. like, to cut the dress off.”

“oh,” paige says, her mouth forming a little ‘O’ of understanding. “okay. yeah. uh, you sure you wanna cut it?”

the thought of trying to save this dress is almost laughable. it may have been expensive, but it was also a gift from the very same man who ruined it by pushing her into the pool. “yeah,” she says. “positive.”

paige makes a face at the dark tone of azzi’s voice, but luckily doesn’t question it. “oo-kay,” she drawls, turning to the nightstand and rummaging through one of the drawers.

“so, uh,” paige says as she searches, “how’d your dress get like that, anyway?”

soaked. she means soaked. “got pushed into the pool,” azzi says.

“oh, shoot.” paige glances over her shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. “by who?”

“my boyfriend,” azzi says, nearly shuddering at the words. then, pleasantly, she remembers he’s not her boyfriend anymore—even though he doesn’t know that yet. “well, my ex-boyfriend.”

“your boyfriend pushed you in the pool?” paige asks. she sounds a little outraged, and, upon finding the scissors, she spins around with them in hand.

“ex-boyfriend,” azzi corrects. “i mean, as of a few minutes ago.”

“well, shit.” paige walks back over to her. “fuck him.”

azzi’s first reaction is to get defensive—she’s spent two months month defending chad to all her friends—but she doesn’t have to do that anymore, so instead she nods decisively. “yeah, fuck him.”

it’s then that paige smiles—the first time azzi’s seen it tonight—and it’s this shy, timid smile, so different from the overconfident, giddy one she gets in games. it’s clear she’s horrible at hiding her little crush and usually that would ick azzi out, but on paige it’s almost…endearing?

and for some reason, butterflies flutter in her tummy at the sight of it.

“okay,” azzi says, turning around in an attempt to crush the moment. “go ahead.”

“should i just cut along the zipper?” paige asks. azzi nods, motioning back towards herself. “do your worst.”

“alright,” paige says, a hint of doubt in her voice. she starts cutting nonetheless. azzi feels nothing but satisfaction at the first snip—she’s glad to be rid of this thing. when she gets home, she’ll burn everything else that fuckass man gave her, too. paige is, in a way, doing god’s work by cutting it.

“so,” paige says as she works. “what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

azzi winces. “uh, chad.”

paige pauses her snipping. “for real?”

“yeah,” azzi says sheepishly, before once again saying, “and he’s my ex-boyfriend.”

“right,” paige replies, tone thick with humor. “so, chad pushed you into the pool while you were wearing this nice dress. and then you broke up with him?”

“well…” azzi trails off—leave it to paige bueckers to make her feel dumb. “i mean, he disappeared on me afterwards, and then he didn’t respond to my texts until like ten minutes ago, so…”

“so he pushed you into the pool, acted crazy, and then you broke up with him.” paige says it like a statement, which makes azzi really hesitant to disclose the whole story.

“i mean, yeah,” she mutters.

paige picks up on the way the sentence lilts guiltily. “bruh.”

“i guess i haven’t actually broken up with him,” azzi is quick to say, paige’s judgmental gaze burning into the skin of her back. “but i did it in my head.”

“in your…” paige must think better of asking more questions, because she just sighs before pulling her hands away from azzi’s dress. “whatever, girl. i’m done.”

azzi turns to face her. “stop that.”

“stop what?”

“judging me.”

paige raises her eyebrows. “i’ll stop when you actually break up with him.”

it’s supposed to come as a joke, but for some reason, azzi takes it as a challenge. almost like she’d do anything for paige’s approval. which is stupid, because paige is clearly an unexpectedly dorky lesbian who just so happens to be hot and athletic.

(it won’t take long for azzi to realize she has a very specific taste in women.)

“fine,” azzi says. and then she, who has never been one to take life advice from virtual strangers, marches to the bed, grabs her phone, and navigates once again to chad’s contact. she tells herself it’s just so she’ll be able to sleep in their room tonight rather than avoiding him the rest of the trip. it’s not really true.

he answers on the fourth ring (typical). it’s nothing but a simple, “yo.” she hates him.

paige puts her hands on her hips, clearly a little surprised that azzi’s actually doing this, but daring her to see it through nonetheless. azzi switches to speakerphone. “chad,” she says, a little unsure of how to go about this. all of her previous breakups have been mutual, cordial. this…

oh, she hates him.

“wassup, baby.” he has the audacity to sound a little annoyed at being bothered, and azzi takes a deep breath to compose herself.

“chad, we gotta talk.”

there’s a long, dramatic sigh on the other end of the line. “is this about the pool? because if it’s about the pool it’s gotta wait ‘till tomorrow. i’m too tired for that shit.”

paige’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline, before furrowing in disbelief, her mouth dropping open a little.

azzi just nods.

“asshole,” paige mouths.

“actually,” azzi says, “i’m breaking up with you.”

silence. then, a bark of laughter. “yeah. aight.”

“i’m being serious.”

“whatever you say, azzi.” he sounds equal-parts amused, equal-parts irritated. “look, just come back up to the room before it gets too late. you know i’ll make it up to you.”

paige sticks her tongue out, pointing a finger into her mouth and gagging.

azzi rolls her eyes. “you wanna know something, chad?”

“what,” he says, barely interested anymore. (he has the attention span of a goldfish with adhd.)

“we’ve been together for how long?”

“uhh…” chad drawls.

“two months,” she informs him. “and in that amount of time, how many times have we fucked?”

“shit, i’on know,” he says, sounding a little more amused now, like he’s in for a treat. he has no idea.

“a lot, chad. and do you have any idea how many orgasms i’ve had in that amount of time?”

dead silence. she almost wonders if he’s hung up. paige is looking at her like she’s crazy, or maybe like she’s an angel descended from heaven itself. azzi focuses back on the phone. “zero. you have made me come literally zero times.”

another laugh, this time more awkward. “azzi, c’mon, bro—“

“so no, i would not like you to make it up to me tonight, or ever,” she continues, gaining a little momentum now. “your tiny-ass dick could never. and if you don’t get the fuck up outta that room so i can sleep tonight, then i’m—“

“hollup, you’re being serious?” chad interrupts.

“yes,” she says—he never did take her seriously. “so you need to find somewhere else to stay because—“

“hell nah,” chad interrupts once again, this time sounding straight-up affronted. “i’m not giving you the room just because you’re deciding to go batshit on me. you can have it when you come to your senses tomorrow, baby.”

rage seethes, hot and quiet, through azzi’s very marrow. she hates being condescended. hates being spoken down to. hates not being believed. she is going to tear his ass in two.

she glances up at paige. paige has now found a seat on the bed and is watching with wide eyes, looking like she needs a bag of popcorn. looking undeniably fine, somehow, even after throwing up on azzi and then proceeding to have the most awkwardly obvious crush on her. looking undeniably edible, to be completely frank.

and then—

oh, and then.

“fine,” azzi says, holding the speaker right up to her mouth so chad won’t miss a single word of what she’s about to say. “don’t give me the room. i got somebody else to stay with.”

“yeah? who?” chad asks. she can picture his stupid smile as he says it.

“paige,” azzi says, ignoring the quizzical look paige is sending her. “an old friend.”

“paige?” he says, clearly confused.

“yeah,” she continues. “and if you don’t give me that room back…” she avoids paige’s gaze for this part, or else she wouldn’t have the balls to do it, “then i’m gonna stay here. and i’m gonna get fucked by paige bueckers.”

there’s a sharp, nervous laugh. “you’re lying through your fucking teeth, azzi.”

“wanna find out?” azzi asks, hoping he doesn’t call her on her bluff.

“yeah, actually,” he says. “i’m using the room tonight. and let’s see if you’ve fucked paige bueckers by morning.”

with that, a click. the line is dead.

paige’s jaw is on the floor.

azzi squeezes her eyes shut.

okay, so azzi stands corrected. the night has, officially, gotten worse.

[asapeveryday]

Bonfire - P. Bueckers

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/F.Reader

Warnings: Drinking, making out

Tl;Dr: You meet this hot chick at a bonfire party, and boy can she kiss

Notes: Hello...unsure if my mutuals remember me lmao it's been little under a year since i wrote for Paige. the uconn w revived me. i also lowk forgot how to write so this is my warm up. and writing kisses is hard so I'm practicing lmfao

Fire crackles from the middle of the field as the usual crowd of UConn kids gather around, fizzy vodka sodas in hand as they socialize. 

The night sky was clear and star-speckled, and your fingers pricked slightly from the midnight wind. Things were more lowkey at this particular bonfire, nobody was in the mood to be busted by small-town cops. 

You mainly stuck to your usual group of friends, a couple of extroverted girls who would chat up all sorts of guys while you hung back on the sidelines. You didn’t mind much, they had their tastes and you had yours. 

Sometimes it was depressing, being at parties like these, surrounded by fraternity guys and preoccupied girls when you’d much rather be finding some game of your own. Still, you were trying to soak in the last of your senior year, game or not.

“Not to be mean…” one of your friends begins, swaying slightly on her feet in a drunken daze, “but like, how do you not feel left out?”

“What?” You ask, snapped out of a daze. People watching was what you usually got up to at these sort of things, and you were currently eyeing a certain well known group amongst people at your school.

“Likee,” she hiccups, dragging out the word. “We’re all going home with guys tonight, girl. Hate to say it.” She pouts, almost condescendingly. “And like, you’re not. I don’t think I’ve even seen you go home with anyone after a party.”

You take in her drunken drawl, keeping your eyes on the group ahead. A flurry of blonde hair catches your eye, pin straight and pretty as she laughs with her friends. Her gaze meets yours for a split second before breaking off.

“How could you?” You scoff. “You’re always so sloshed, I’d be surprised if you knew your own name, let alone who I go home with.”

“Funny.” Your friend grunts. “I’m serious, have a good fuck, find some douche for the night. Stop hanging around like some wallflower, it’s like, depressing.”

“Uhuh.” You hum, a little drop in your stomach as the blonde seems to meet your eye again. This time it’s not by chance in the slightest. Something about her parted lips as her gaze lands on you seems so intentional.

“Hey, listen.” Your friend mumbles, placing a seemingly comforting hand on your shoulder, or maybe it’s to steady herself. “Don’t feel bad. We just want you to have fun! Do you want me to set you up with a guy? I have a guy who would be so good to you. For one night.”

“Uh, okay.” You chide absentmindedly, trying your hardest to keep eye contact with the pretty blonde further in the mass of people. Her eyes part from yours every so often to go back to her friends, but those eyes always come back to you. It’s nerve wracking, like you’re both waiting for something to happen.

“Fuck yes!” Your friend exclaims, practically flashing the public unknowingly. “I’ll find him, don’t go anywhere.”

You’re paying practically zero attention, downing the mostly-full drink in your hand for some extra confidence before working your way through the crowd.

You weren’t exactly sure what your plan was, but you wanted to get a good look at the girl up close. You just had to squeeze through some people and hang around her area inconspicuously.

You finally reach her general area, the fire burning hotter near the middle and the smell of summer-smoke in the air. The light illuminates everyone’s faces with orange and yellow glows against the navy night, music blasts from a stereo nearby. 

You don’t see her anywhere, but you do find a few friends who throw a some drinks at you. You try your best to be social, piercing holes in Twisted-Teas and shotgunning them with as much precision as you can muster. 

The rush of alcohol starts to roll in after your third drink, your body simmering slightly from the heat of everyone around you, and your head feeling lighter, less guarded.

“One more?” Someone calls out, offering a white claw for the ready. 

“I’m good.” You mumble, handing it back. “I should probably stop.”

“Smart idea.” Someone says from behind you, and you laugh. Something about drinking in such close proximity with all these other drunk people was heightening your symptoms like a freakish social experiment.

“Uhuh.” You nod, not bothering to face the person. “I know my limits.” You scoff, happy you’re at least thinking coherently, though you’re not sure if you sound that way.

“You good?” The voice asks, low and taunting as if amused. Her arm brushes against yours in the slightest, and you finally turn to see who it is.

You’re surprised when you have to look up a little more than you expected. The perpetrator cocks her head ever so slightly, blonde hair tied back in a perfectly messy low bun, eyes blue and glinting from the fire light, and her own hand grasping a fizzy looking drink. 

Speaking of hands, the more you focus on her the more you struggle to snap back to reality. You couldn’t help but appreciate the slight veins that lead to her toned arms, your sight moving further up to note her biceps.

“Uhuh.” You murmur, shamelessly checking the girl out. Her lips curl into an ambitious smile, as if she knows exactly how attractive she is. Oh, the sight of her watching you watch her, it’s like your stomach is doing flips.

“D’you say anything other than uhuh?” She scoffs, raising an eyebrow. “Or are you that drunk?”

“Are you?” You shoot back, gesturing with your eyes to the drink in her hand, half empty.

“This is virgin.” She smirks, though you swear you catch her wink in a split second.

“Yeah, and I’m not halfway plastered.” You smile, exaggerating the state of your intoxication. “I’ll let you live in your fantasy if I can live in mine, ’kay Paige?”

You mentally face-palm as soon as you say it. Obviously being this close to the girl, you realized who she was. 

It didn’t matter that everyone at your university knew who she was, you still had hoped you could act like some rare unknowing specimen who could charm her with your lack of knowledge of her fame.

You were not planning of flat out feeding her ego.

Much to your delight, she doesn’t comment on your knowing her name, though her smile does spread into something slightly proud. 

“I’m not lying.” She raises an eyebrow, her expression dead set on challenging. She’s beautiful, her voice is endearing and her presence holds more confidence than you’ve ever seen up close. You hate how your stomach jitters with every movement of her lips.

“Right.”

“I’m not!” She laughs, taking a long sip of her drink before holding it out to you, the straw sliding perfectly in front of your face. “Try me.” Paige hums.

You pause for a moment, eyes darting between her face and her drink. “I’m good.”

“Nah, you wanted to pass some comments, so here.” Paige shrugs, teeth bared in that stupid know-it-all smile, “Drink up.”

With one last glance at her expression to make sure she’s being for real, you lean in slightly. Your lips meet the cheap black straw of her drink, and you gingerly take sip. 

You can feel Paige’s eyes on you, watching you sip from her drink. You somehow find the courage to meet those eyes, hoping to God your lashes fan out just right as your gazes connect.

“Hm.” You mumble as your lips part from the drink, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you hold her stare. “Virgin after all. I’m surprised.” 

Without another word she brings her drink back to her mouth, sipping on the straw like you’d never used it. Her eyes are somewhere else, clearly distracted from the earlier situation. 

You can’t help but feel an air of confidence wash over you at the fact that you’d made her slightly nervous.

"Not a drinker?" You ask, knowing damn well how drunk she gets post-win on her teammate's insta lives.

"Not tonight." Paige hums. "Early practice tomorrow morning."

"Uhuh." You raise an eyebrow, watching as her expression twists with slight annoyance.

"You say that a lot." She scoffs. "You sure you're not shitfaced?"

Suddenly something sparks in your gut. Maybe it's the way her brows furrow, or the way the bonfire-flame-light flickers against her pale skin. You feel adrenaline, or maybe you just feel want.

"I guess I am." You hum, intentionally flitting your eyes from her face to her drink. "Guess I should follow your example, huh."

"What drink was that?" You ask, licking your lips subtly and hoping her gaze catches that. "Need something to sober me up."

"Oh, I doubt this'll do shit." Paige chuckles, eyes amused and strong on you, unbreaking to the point where it might make you shiver.

You just sigh, smiling shyly at her. "Know anyone who will?"

Her brows furrow again, confused for a moment, before you can spy her moment of realization. The way she bites her bottom lip and shakes her head slightly is so cute.

"Sorry," she says, leaning over slightly, her lips almost touching the shell of your ear, "didn't hear you. What'd you say?"

Her breath on your skin, the way you can feel her smile against you. She's amused. On board with what you have in mind? You'll see---but she's definitely interested. You gain some confidence in the fact that you've got this star player in that position.

"I said," you hum, voice sweet, and a little worn from talking over blasting music and students around you, "I need someone who can sober me up."

You lean into her a bit more. The loose hair from her low bun tickles your cheek. "Got anyone in mind?" You murmer.

She parts from you then, and you're a little disappointed. One hand is in her sweatpants pocket, the other holding the rim of her drink. She swishes it around, cocks her head, her eyes move up and down you.

She's not denying you, you realize. She's considering.

Then there's a bit of a step forward, closer than she already is. You know you're asking a lot, for her to do anything with you in public like this is a risk. You can see her think it too, the way she looks around at the drunken kids surrounding the two of you.

Finally, a shy hand slips from her pocket and meets the fabric of whatever skimpy top you've decided to wear out tonight. She toys with it, her fingers slightly tickling the skin of your waist in the process, before she leans into you again.

"How much sobering up do you need?" She hums, her voice says she couldn't care less, but you know that's not the case.

You're hot. Tipsy, voice raspy, clothes flattering. It's warm, the fire-light flickers against your body. You hold her eyes when they meet yours, you watch her lips as they move.

She's not saying no, she's asking you how much, and for how long.

You ignore her original question, opting to answer the real one instead. "It'll be quick." You mumble half against her jaw, before sliding your hands to her face.

Her hand slots perfectly against the crook where your ribcage and hips melt, her lashes brush against your cheek. Her lips are full, she grins against your face like she's got it all. You know she does, you're happy to give anyways, after all you're getting what you want too.

The first is simple. Closed mouth, there and back. Her eyes open as she pulls away, her tongue darts over her plush lips. You taste of southern iced-tea and malt. She tastes like grenadine and sprite.

She leans back in, head titled. This one is different. Lips parted further, more smiles, tongue tickling the back of your lips. You open for her, she pulls back in the slightest before coming back for more.

This is a real kiss. Her fingers grip your skin, you slide one hand to her chest, her tongue darts out, slow, languid. You shiver, you feel this one soak you. She likes your bottom lip, she likes some push and pull, pulling you by the waist, one leg half-lodged between your two.

Your head is swimming---maybe you are drunk. Maybe she's that good. Suddenly you're happy you drank, ecstatic even. You pull away from her after what feels like ages and not long enough. Your lips pop as she breaks from you. Her mouth stays parted, glistening a little around the corners. Her eyes are crescents, sleepy, fucked-out. Your favourite expression on her yet.

You bring your hand to your face, letting your thumb wipe whats left of her from your lips. She was sloppy, you were desperate. You want to see what else she can do.

Her eyes dart around nervously, shoulders relaxing when she realizes nobody is paying attention. Then her eyes settle behind you.

It's your friend---the actual drunk one, and she's got her arm around some tall guy with a drink in his hand, red-faced and half-plastered himself.

"I found your ride home." She winks, pointing at him, then his crotch with a wink and a few mouthed-words that you can't help but cringe from.

You turn back around, wondering what kind of face Paige might be making at the sight of this dude. Wondering if she'd be willing to take you away instead. Maybe show you how else she can sober you up.

You turn, but she's not there. All that's left is that taste of grenadine, dampness in your panties, and the crackling fire.