To Be A Prize

Chapter 15

I glide the lipstick tube over my lips, painting them a glossy blushed nude before fixing the flick of my eyeliner. My short black skirt barely covers my ass cheeks, and I tug at its hem to keep it down. My finger nails have been painted a deep red, matching the polish on my toes. I spritz a romantic, sweet perfume onto my exposed neck and reposition my necklace to fall perfectly on my chest, drawing the eye down to my revealing, low cut top. My long dark hair flows loosely down my back.

I glance at myself one last time in the mirror. Gone is the pathetic shadow of what I once was for now I have returned to my former self. Mostly. A slightly gaunt expression still remains on my face as there was no amount of concealer that could fix that, but I look better than I did before.

I head for the door, not before checking the views on the strategically posted selfie to my Instagram story. The corner of my mouth lifts as I notice all four boys' usernames in the long list of story watchers.

My thighs kiss each other as I walk, purposefully swinging my hips with the movement. I absent-mindedly drag my hand along the wall, my chin held high accentuating the length of my neck. The house is messier than I left it, there's rubbish from takeaways scattered on the floor and the air is stuffy, as if the windows haven't been opened in a while. My freshly sprayed perfume wafts from my neck, cutting through the musk like mustard gas as I, a double agent, head behind enemy lines.

Sapnap sits in the living room sprawled across the sofa, legs spread out, making himself comfortable in my house. He's changed clothes since our last encounter and is now wearing one of Karl's old sweaters, clearly stolen from his closet.

As I glide past I feel his eyes watching me and he stirs from his seat, legs swinging round so that his knees are now over his feet. He swipes off some crumbs from his lap onto my living room floor. Whatever he just ate, he clearly didn't think it necessary to get a plate, assuming someone would clean up after him. My eyes drift down to follow the crumbs as they fall, then sweep back up to stare him straight in the eyes to watch him choke on his words.

"Y/N, you look..." he drifts off, seemingly lost for words. Good.

"Let me know when you've figured out how to finish that sentence," I call back to him having already left the room, still headed towards the kitchen. Sapnap hesitates then stands up to follow me out and I hear his footsteps fall in time to my own behind me.

Suddenly, I whip my head round and catch him in the act, staring straight at my arse.

A sheepish look flashes across his face and I just smirk, raising one eyebrow and I ask, "thought of something already?"

"No...Not yet. Actually yes, you look different," he stutters. I keep my face neutral, hoping not to look disappointed at his lacklustre comment. I was aiming for sexy, irresistible, maybe even beautiful but it seems I'll have to settle for "different" for now.

"Well, that certainly wasn't worth the wait," I say, punching him in the gut with my words and his face deflates. I've never been so upfront with him and he's clearly taken aback by it.

Before leaving, I deliver the final blow to knock the last little bit of confidence from him; I take a step forward, getting close enough that he tenses up and I can feel the hairs rise on his arms. I lean in and bring my lips up to hover in front of his own before swiping a finger across his mouth and whispering in his ear, "you've got a little something on your face."

He turns away, cheeks bright red, wiping his face with his teeshirt.

I walk away silently giggling, too caught in the moment to feel bad.

Dream is standing in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. The room is filthy, there's rubbish everywhere and a pile of dishes next to the sink threatens to topple over like a game of jenga. My nose crinkles at the smell of stale air and I lean over to open a window. As I do, I make sure to push my hips out further than I need to, arching my back bending forwards. Dream's eyes ransack my body as I do, tracing along the curves and contours of my upturned arse.

"Sorry about the mess," he says, guiltily, turning back to his coffee.

"Your apology doesn't help clean it up," I say, sweeping my gaze across the littering of empty take-away boxes.

He looks confused for a second, trying to de-code what I've just said. My usual straight-forward, blithe attitude has been replaced with an air of bored dissatisfaction that none of the boys know how to navigate.

"Oh, right, yeah of course," he hurries, putting his mug down and reaching for the greasy boxes to throw away.

"Y/N, I think we should talk about-" he begins before I cut him off.

"I think you've said enough already," I spit.

"I know, and I want to apologise for it," he continues, chucking the cardboard into a black bin bag, ignoring the empty recycling bin to his left as his left hand sweeps crumbs off of the counter onto the floor.

"Honestly, Dream, I'm not sure you even know what to apologise for. And I get it," I say, raising my hands in mock surrender, "you're obsessed with me- if I were you, I'd be obsessed with me too. But next time you feel like monologuing about how we're soulmates, just cut to the chase and tell me that you really just want to fuck me."

As I say these last words, I close the distance between us until my breasts are pressed up against his arm and lift a hand up to pull at his chin to turn his face to look at me.

"And who knows, maybe if you ask nicely," I sigh seductively, drawing a finger along his sharp jawline, "I'll let you do just that."

I roughly put my hand on Dream's shoulders and twist his body round so that he's now facing me. His green eyes bore into me, making direct eye contact before dipping down to to take in my frame. My low-cut top fills its purpose perfectly as the height distance between us means that whenever Dream looks down past my large, innocent eyes, he sees nothing but cleavage.

Slowly, I begin to descend to my knees, hands steadying myself on his thighs as I crouch down. The only time I break eye contact with him is when I sweep a glance at his crotch to see that it is already hardening, begging for me to continue.

"Fuck," Dream whispers under his breath, "y/n, what are you doing?" He asks, his voice shuddering with anticipation.

"Teaching you a lesson," I say, with a smirk on my lips. His thumbs reaches down to my face and rests on my bottom lips and I open my mouth to take it in, tongue swirling around it at his other hand hooks underneath my jaw.

The sight of me on my knees in front of him, with his thumb in my mouth and round, blue eyes looking up at him must be lighting a fire inside of him as the bulge in his trousers grows.

"Oh yeah?" He says, further feeding into the fantasy.

"Yeah," I struggle to reply as his thumb is still lodged between my lips, nodding my head, "about what it's like to be tricked."

At that, I spit his thumb out of my mouth and stand up. He recoils his hand in shock, confused at the sudden change in situation.

"Except for me it was a lot worse than just blue balls," I snap, my face changing from a look of pure sexual desire to hatred. I reach down to palm his bulge and look up at him once last time, "have fun dealing with that on your own," before turning to leave.