𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

❛ 00 ❜

Y/N WAKES UP, NAKED WITH HER HEAD AND BODY POUNDING —

for two completely different reasons. It takes y/n a minute to slowly rise from the dead and gently, she moves the stranger's arm off her waist and around a pillow in place. It was what every man wakes up to when sleeping with her. Thankfully y/n's clothes were in a pile on the floor, she hated to scavenger hunt after a night with a stranger. She needed to get out within five minutes or they could wake up and it would be an even more awkward conversation.

In the hallway, y/n doesn't hear anything which makes her breathe of relief. She doesn't hesitate to hurry down the stairs which makes the large dog on the couch head lift immediately and begin barking at the stranger in his home. There was enough distance between the two to keep her calm but her heart raced at the thought of the man coming down to see what the commotion was.

While keeping eye contact with the dog y/n slowly walks towards the door as he gets down from the couch. He was still barking as her hand wrapped around the door handle. He stops barking as if testing her, but she would rather this dog tear her apart than speak with his owner and have to explain the early morning walk of shame.

"Rocky!" she hears his voice from the bedroom upstairs and while the dog looks back to see if his owner was awake and ready for the day, y/n takes the chance to open the door and make her escape, shutting the door loudly on her way out with no remorse.

"Morning, slut."

y/n looks at her best friend who was already waiting for her in his all-black Maserati that made him look like a douchebag. "Morning, dick." she accepts the sunglasses he offered and slides into the open passenger seat. Jean gets in the driver and speeds down the neighborhood, surely waking the neighbors with his loud engine.

"Did he catch you this time? You seemed to be in a hurry." Jean couldn't wait to ask.

"No." she lays back, wasting no time getting comfortable. "They never do." she hated how that was the truth and even more that it has been this way since she was about fifteen and she had yet to be caught. Sneaking around was something y/n was good at, even more so when it involves her addiction.

Jean doesn't say anything the rest of the ride and she takes that time to shut her eyes for more sleep. When the car stops y/n opens her eyes and instead of seeing the two's shared apartment, it was a different building that a special someone lived in. "What are we doing here?" she asks although she already knew.

"Connie got some new stuff." Jean shuts the car off and y/n gets out of the vehicle with a deep breath before following Jean. Walking in she makes eye contact with the man at the desk who greeted everyone. His eyes dance from her to Jean and then back to her. She thought he was cute and from the way he was looking at the rest of her, he didn't think she was too bad to look at either.

Jean pulls her away from her eye fucking the stranger and into the elevator. It doesn't take long to get to Connie's and he opens with a smile and eyes that gave away he was high out his mind. "Friends! Come in!" he could care less that the smoke from his apartment was now exiting the door and into the hallway, he pays too much to care.

Jean immediately leaves her side to join Sasha on the couch who was rolling up. y/n goes to the kitchen for a drink, a Gatorade to replenish any fluids she lost last night. Her body still aches in remembrance but her brain lacks that oftentimes after her one-night stands. Even with the ache, she couldn't help but think about the man downstairs and how he seemed to understand what she was hinting at, maybe he had a sex addiction too. She doubted that. y/n had yet to find someone who had the same issues as her. Jean was the closest but drug addictions are always understood, sex, not so much. It's so much easier to label herself as a slut rather than an addict.