luna

everyone is repeatedly telling you that emery and yourself need to settle the dust, hash out your differences.

it sounded easy, nice, but she made it impossible. the moment you made your way from the day crew into the night crew, she scoffed at anything you said, finding an exact moment to press your buttons — it didn’t matter if you were trying to revive a patient, a snarky remark would come from her mouth, straight to you.

the first few months of working with the night shift, you tried to wrap your head around what her exact issue was with you. you tried to be on endless occasions to be civil and respectful, even maintain a safe space, but you realized that would get you nowhere, not with someone like her.

it was like that for a year. a year of torment, rude commentary, and scoffs — you stood on top of it all, knowing you’d find a way to eventually transition to another hospital once abbot could write you a stellar recommendation letter.

you only had about two more hours left of your shift before you could go home for your day off, and be free from emery, at least looking forward to the next night being spent with your friends.

another patient had come through the ambulance bay and into the trauma room, blood seeping out after they’d been brutalized in a car accident.

“we’re going to need to intubate,” you said, abbot and ellis checking out the victim, the nurses inserting ivs into them, attaching them to the heart monitors.

“he’s going to need immediate surgery,” shen stated, and you already knew what he was going to say next. “call walsh, tell her they need to start prepping.”

“i’m not giving the call,” you mumbled, and ellis seemed to be the only one who heard you, taking it on herself to call up the OR.

you wished she’d just stay upstairs, but she somehow found herself trickling down to the trauma bay where the patient was stabilized for the moment, a smug smile hanging on her lips.

“glad to see you didn’t fuck up,” emery spat, glancing at you as you were throwing away your gloves.

she found any reason to come down, any excuse, and it was all to get another jab into you.

“i do much better than you,” you said, standing feet away from her. “i recall you fucking up a suture just the other day.”

“knock it off, both of you,” abbot spoke up, and you and emery looked over at him. “it’s annoying, it’s unprofessional. fix your shit.”

“it’ll start once she transfers somewhere else,” emery hoped, and you flipped her off. “see that? we can’t have that behavior in our hospital.”

“i don’t know what your problem is, but it is one sided at this point. go do your job,” you said, purposely bumping her shoulder as you walked past her and out of the room.

she scoffed, looking over her shoulder, and back at everyone in the room. “can she go back to day shifts?” she wondered, and shen chuckled, shaking his head. “okay, fine. the operating room will be ready for him in five minutes.”

emery moved out of the room, not hesitating to approach you. her feet were basically booming hooves to you, and you inhaled sharply to gather patience before turning around to face her.

she gave you that cruel smile, one that twitched with sarcasm and bitterness. she was coming to get a reaction out of you, anything she could swallow to give her energy for the rest of her shift.

“what can i do for you, dr. walsh?” you asked, turning off the tablet, slipping it in between your arm.

“bringing up a mistake during a procedure was highly inappropriate,” she started, and you hummed. “your incompetence would probably kill a patient.”

you could hit your head against the tablet in front of her, but you knew that’d give her too much pleasure because she’d know she drove you to that point.

“do you realize how ridiculous you sound?” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “being rude and disrespectful as a surgeon is inappropriate.”

“you’re the one who has a mouth on her,” she seethed, and you simply shrugged.

“you and i have nothing further to say to each other,” you said, making sure to get completely out of her eye sight, yet she kept her eyes on your figure until you completely faded away.

you were beyond thankful you had a night off and could be with your friends, who had to endure another endless rant about how much your coworker hated you.

it’s not that it bothered you, but ever since you started working in the night, you tried to come up with any reason why she could dislike you.

but you two worked in different departments and only saw each other when it came to a patient needing immediate surgery — that was it.

“there’s always just going to be someone at work who just has no reason to not like you,” whitaker stated, taking a sip of his bottled beer. “yet, she is being excessive about it.”

“i just don’t get what her problem is,” you said, sipping on your glass of wine. “i steer out of her way, i follow any orders, and i just mind my business. yet, she still hates me.”

“walsh is known for being ruthless,” victoria told you as santos was shuffling the game cards again. “i think she finds any excuse to come terrorize you. have you thought of reporting it?”

“and be classified as a narc? absolutely not,” you answered, shaking your head. “i also don’t think human resources would care.”

“just switch back to the day shift,” whitaker chimed in, and you shrugged. “i know it’s more chaotic, but at least you’ll be away from her.”

“i think walsh would purposely switch to the day shift if she did that,” santos added, laying the cards flat down on the restaurant table. “i don’t think she hates your guts — i think she wants to be in them.”

you choked on your wine, violently coughing and covered your mouth with a napkin. “what are you on about!” you said, and victoria handed you her glass of water. “i don’t think she’s even gay.”

“i thought garcia wasn’t either, and look at how that turned out,” santos reminded, and you rolled your eyes.

“garcia uses you and eats all your ramen,” you added, and santos glared at you. “i don’t think emery wants anything like that — i think she just genuinely hates me.”

“and i think we’re all violating hippa by having sexual contact with our older workers,” whitaker stated, and you amusingly hummed, nodding. “victoria is dating cassie, santos is hooking up with garcia, and for me—”

“you’re hooking up with two older attendings,” you continued, grinning at him. “you’re greedy for that.”

“can you find out, trin?” victoria asked, and santos snorted, stifling a laugh.

“yeah, i’ll ask the next time garcia is in me,” she said, sipping on her beer. “i’ll be like, ‘hey babe, do you know if walsh is gay?,’ while she’s pile driving me.”

“i always wondered who was wearing the strap,” you joked, and she playfully kicked your leg under the table. “i bet you she’s straight, and just likes to torment me. i think i’ll ask abbot to hurry up with that letter.”

“and leave us? we’ll be heartbroken,” whitaker frowned, and the two women looked at him. “i know i’ll be. you only like going to her place to raid her fridge and pantry.”

“she shops at whole foods, how can you not resist!” victoria responded, and you chuckled, watching santos lay out the cards. “listen, i didn’t know that cassie liked girls for the longest time, and look where we are now.”

“she looks like she kisses girls for a living,” you stated, and victoria paused, slowly agreeing with you. “it only took her four months to cave in.”

“guys, a heads up,” santos coughed, clearing her throat, and everyone looked in the direction of the front door.

“i will take a scalpel to my eyes,” you mumbled, seeing emery walk in with a few people from the operating department, and you chugged down your wine. “this has to be some sick joke, right?”

“it’s worse,” victoria mumbled. “i think she’s sitting at a table across from us.”

“i have to go. i have to go before she tells a waitress to put rat poison in my food,” you panicked, grabbing your purse, yet you were a second too late from leaving when emery perfectly noticed you. “i’m going to quit medicine because of her.”

you stayed put in your seat as emery came up next to you, giving you a grin. emery’s grins were never soft or sweet when it came to you; it meant she had an another torture up her sleeve, something mean to say to you because you could never get a break.

“dr. walsh, i didn’t know you had the night off,” you stated, and wish you had a glass of straight vodka for this moment to swallow down.

“i’m surprised you have people to sit with outside of work,” she began, not even wasting a second to make a verbal blow towards you.

“she was on the day shift with us long before helping night,” santos chimed in, and both you and emery looked at her. “c’mon, you need to stop acting like that.”

emery looked back at you, softly utterly your name, “if you’re hungover tomorrow, you’ll be sloppy and commit malpractice.”

“shen literally told me you used the wrong instrument in a surgery last night,” you stated, and had to stifle a laugh when she had nothing more to say. “can’t you just leave me alone? i’ll be out of your hair soon anyways.”

“not soon enough, it seems,” she said, and you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “have a fun night.”

when she sat back down at her table, you let out a heavy sigh and put your head in your hands, considering taking the butter knife to your eye sockets.

“i’m gonna go back to day shift,” you said, and your friends hummed, agreeing. “and she’s needed in the night shift so there’s no way she’ll switch when i do.”

“is abbot aware of like, everything?” santos asked, and you nodded. “then why doesn’t he do anything?”

“he says it’s for us to handle on our own,” you stated, your eyes flickering at whitaker, and you tilted your head to the side. “has jack said anything to you?”

“he’s annoyed by it, but doesn’t want to get the medical director involved,” whitaker stated, finishing off his beer. “something about it being too much paperwork and stuff.”

“so he just wants me to suffer,” you mumbled, and the moment you looked at the table emery was sitting at her, she was looking at you — precisely and exactly.

she had a luring smile tugging at her lips, taking a sip of her own beer, and went back to talking to her own friends.

“you’ll be back on the day shift anyways,” victoria reminded, but you wish it didn’t have to take switching shifts again to not get tormented by a coworker.

you shouldn’t have to feel the need to quit your passion because you were getting constantly berated.

few hours had past, and you were too tipsy to drive yourself back home, standing outside of the restaurant bar as you smoked a cigarette.

“why are you still here?” you heard emery’s voice come to the side of you, causing you to turn your head and she stood cautiously a few feet away from you. “i thought you’d gone home by now.”

“being responsible by not drinking and driving,” you answered, taking another inhale, and slowly let it go. “why are you still here and talking to me?”

“you don’t need to rude,” she told you, earning a bitter, yet disbelieved chuckle out of you as you nodded to yourself in thought. “what is it now?”

“that’s really humorous coming from you,” you stated, refusing to look away from her. “all you are is rude and disrespectful towards me, and i don’t even know why.”

“you just need to get thicker skin,” she suggested, and you knew you were going to need a second cigarette, trying not to yell at her in this very moment. “not everyone will be sweet to you your whole life, you need to get used to it.”

“i am very used to it,” you said, taking in another hit. “it’s all thanks to you — your snarky comments, your hateful remarks — anything to get under my skin, and for what?”

“it sounds like you hate me,” emery stated, grinning because she was getting some sick amusement out of this interaction.

“i do hate you. i hate you so much,” you clearly stated, not missing a beat, not letting her even make another comment. you said it all with your full chest, and the words hung in the air, emery trying to gather something from it.

“have a good night. see you at work,” is all emery said before walking away, and left you standing there with what you had confessed, the cigarette ashes falling onto your knuckles.

you wanted to chase after her, ask her why she had nothing else to say to you, and why she didn’t make a jab at anything about you.

instead, you threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping it out, and walked back inside the restaurant.

a week has gone by since that night, and emery didn’t come down to the emergency room for that time period, especially when you asked around if she was working.

ellis was confused on what your sudden interest was with emery, but you shrugged it off and told her it was nothing.

but it was something.

you didn’t know why she wouldn’t come down, why she didn’t find a reason to belittle you in front of your shared peers — you assumed that maybe she got what she wanted, and you were in the clear.

you were sitting on santos’ apartment couch, the brunette in the kitchen with whitaker as they were making a late lunch for everybody, and victoria and samira sat on the carpet floor, showing off each other’s pinterest boards.

“hey, did you hear about the hang out tonight?” samira asked, and everyone looked at her, in mere confusion. “i don’t know who’s going, but it’s some people from the day and night shifts.”

“i’ll go. i need a reason for a drink or three,” you said, and you looked at santos. “did you ever find out if walsh liked girls?”

“oh shit,” she said, chuckling to herself as she stepped out of the kitchen, and sat next to you on the couch.

“wait, why do you need to know that?” samira asked.

“because trinity is convinced that she is,” you answered, and she awes in response, nodding.

“i think she is,” samira stated. “garcia and her used to have a small fling during their residency.”

“i can put my face on that hot stove right now, mohan,” santos stated, and samira mumbled a soft apology, going back to comparing with victoria. “and yeah, she does like ‘em. she’s only dated girls her whole life.”

“doesn’t mean she wants to fuck me,” you retorted, and whitaker brought the plates to the coffee table, sitting next to the girls. “i despise her, it makes me nearly sick how much i do.”

“you’ll be back on day shift soon, and i don’t think she’s coming tonight,” he said, and you hummed, nodding.

that’s why you agreed to join your friends on a night out in downtown, where it was more vibrant and busy.

you were on the rooftop of the bar, abbot and whitaker playing pool inside against samira, while you sat outside with santos and shen, almost down the first pitcher of beer.

“i didn’t want to tell you this earlier,” shen said, playing with the ring he had on his finger as he looked at you. “but walsh is coming.”

“we are on the top floor, i can push you off,” you told him, drinking down your cup of alcohol. “why is she coming, anyways? has she been coming up with new ways to insult me?”

“abbot had a whole talk with her the other day,” he explained, refilling your glass. “he said it’s not worth the paperwork, or either of your careers.”

“but i’m not even doing anything—”

“talking about me already?” emery asked, causing you to nearly jump, and you groaned under your breath. “i knew you’d miss me.”

she was wearing dark denim jeans that were baggy and a loose smashing pumpkins shirt, something that you weren’t that used to seeing — but you weren’t exactly complaining.

“the complete opposite,” you said, and she sat directly across from you.

“how about we go get something else from the bar?” shen directly asked santos, and it took her a few seconds to understand his suggestion as she agreed, the two immediately getting up.

“so,” you muttered. “we haven’t seen you down in the emergency department.”

“i didn’t want to deal with your shit,” she stated, grabbing the spare glass that was on the table, and poured beer into it.

“i am just as smart and capable as you,” you reminded her, and she made a certain look, one that told you that she didn’t entirely agree with you. “you got what you wanted, i’m moving shifts — so can you just stop?”

emery took a sip of her drink, taking a few beats to answer as she thought to herself. “i don’t want to stop, i don’t think i will.”

“why not?”

“because you hate me,” she said. “i don’t particularly like you either, but i feel like i’ve barely reached the surface.”

“but why me?” you asked, and it was a question that nearly silenced her as she just stared at you for a few seconds before looking down at her cup.

“you’re easy and pathetic. it’s easy to break you,” she admitted, grinning to herself. “that’s what makes you so special — you’re entirely incapable of stopping me from getting under your skin.”

“i’m very much capable.”

“you’re not,” she shook her head in disagreement, inching closer as her hands were folded on the table, only a few centimeters from yours. “i’m not done until i’ve made you cry.”

you swallowed thickly, your heart in your throat, and there was nerves pounding at your chest. your hands were on your cup, trying to find movement to chug the rest down, and walk out of the bar — but you couldn’t.

was she implying what you thought she was? there wasn’t any possible way that she could do that or she wanted you like that — she made your job a horrible experience every time you clocked in, but was it simply all so she could unravel and bend you beyond your breaking point?

you stayed put, looking at her and let yourself be quiet for once. samira and whitaker came to the table, noticing the heavy tension that hung over you and emery.

“is everything okay?” samira wondered, only looking at you.

“yeah, we’re gonna head to my house right now,” emery said, taking the last sip of her beer, and got up from the table.

it was like a ghost pulled and picked you up too, as you adjusting your denim skirt and looked at samira, grabbing your purse.

“i mean, are you sure?” she asked, an edge of worry in her tone.

“i’ll text you guys later, don’t worry,” you told her, giving a kiss to her cheek, and trailed right behind emery as she guided you two out of the bar.

you saw trinity and shen at the bar on the way out, giving her a look as she gave you a thumbs up, knowing that she was right.

the silence lingered until the two of you were completely out of the bar, and only then was there distant noises of honking and chatter.

“my house is only two blocks away,” emery said, grabbing your hand and dragged you along with her. “you look pretty.”

she actually said something nice — you were going throw up.

“shut up,” you told her, trying to force your hand out of hold, yet it seemed impossible as she only tightened her grip.

“this is why you’re fucking impossible,” she mumbled. “if you’re going to be like that, don’t talk until we’re at my place.”

you happily complied with that, keeping yourself quiet as you walked with her and let her continue to hold your hand.

it took about fifteen minutes to get to her townhouse, that was on the nicer side of pittsburgh and you stared at it in awe as she began to unlock her front door.

emery dropped your hand, opening the door and let you walk in first. you hesitantly careened inside, seeing miscellaneous photos hung up on the walls — it was of her college days, when she graduated, family photos, and random art pieces she must’ve collected over time.

“you have someone who gets these for you?” you asked, emery closing the door and coming to your side. “the artworks, they’re nice.”

“my mom gets them for me,” she stated, putting her keys in the little tray that sat on the walk in table. “she knows i can’t stand bland walls.”

“how much does a surgeon make?” you questioned, putting your purse next to her keys, and she only grinned. “if it’s more than me, i might have to switch careers.”

“you’d suck at being a surgeon,” she said, and you rolled your eyes, feeling a bit dumb that you thought she’d be nice for a few more minutes.

“can you not be sweet for even an hour?” you wondered, and she scoffed. “i’m serious. why are you so fucking mean?”

“don’t act like you don’t like it,” emery stated, and you moved right behind her as she led you both to what you presumed to be her bedroom.

“i don’t like it,” you told her, and you walked into her room, which was insanely organized and clean. a smell of clean linen and pinewood roamed throughout the space, yet there wasn’t a spec of dust anywhere, her bed was perfectly made, and she had only neutral tones.

maybe all surgeons were neat freaks.

she sat down at her computer chair as you stood by her bedroom door, your eyes looking at every part of her room as if you were to memorize it.

“what are you doing right there? come here,” she said, and you gathered the courage to move in her direction, fidgeting with your fingers. her legs moved apart to manspread before you as you stepped in between them and looked down at her. “can i touch you?”

“what?”

“can i touch you?” she asked, and you were taken aback. “need to know if you’re soaking wet all because i bully you.”

“i’m not wet,” you insisted, and she hummed, hitching your skirt up to your stomach. you didn’t stop her, not one bit, and when her fingertips brushed along your mound, you had inhaled sharply, excited yet afraid what she’d do next.

“these are cute,” she complimented your eyelet cotton panties, and was highly amused with herself, bringing them down to your thighs. “you left a mess in your panties, sweetheart. did you know that?”

you were nearly shameful that her taunting you tonight got you to this point, “i…i didn’t know,” you muttered, almost coming out as a whisper, and shyly looked away from her.

“who said you can fucking look away?” emery asked, bringing her spare hand to the side of your face, and gave it a soft, yet demanding slap. “look at how fucking pathetic you are.”

you whimpered from the slap, nodding and made eye contact with her once more. the slap got you going more, and she knew it too, two of her fingers slipping between your slick folds.

“all because i’m so mean to you,” she taunted, and let out a disbelief chuckle. “you bitch about it so much, but you love it.”

you didn’t say anything else, your guilt and shame claiming you, and all you wanted to do was curl into a ball because of how stupid you felt for getting wet over your older coworker being simply mean to you.

“take your clothes off,” emery said, and when you were about to barely turn around to do so, she gave your calf a small kick. “in front of me. are you fucking stupid?”

you nodded, your shaky hands going to each of your clothing as you slowly took them off, removing your shoes last. emery’s eyes gawked at your nude body, her eyes taking in every curve and inch of you, your delicate skin that she had the urge to bruise.

she had cursed under her breath while continuing to look at you, thinking of millions of ways to deprave and ruin you.

“go lay flat on your back on the bed,” she said, and you happily obliged, scurrying over to the neat bed, carefully resting on it. you only stared up at the ceiling, hearing emery go through a nightstand drawer, yet you were too afraid to look at what she was doing.

the room was cold, a cascade of chills creeping over your skin, and you jolted when emery’s hands were on your knees, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed.

you sat up on your elbows, noticing how she was only in her sports bra, yet when you looked down to her lower half, your eyes widened.

“what were you saying about hating me the other week?” she wondered, her hands moving to the back of your thighs and forced your legs entirely back, your knees at both sides of your head. “it doesn’t seem like you hate me.”

“this doesn’t mean anything,” you groaned, holding onto your legs, and knew you had to keep them there. “i do hate you, i always will.”

without any warning or for you to take a breath, you could feel your cunt being ripped and stretched apart with her cock before you could say much else.

“that’s one way to shut you up,” emery said, hovering over you as she didn’t hesitate to fuck into you at a rough, violent pace, and her free hand found the pinnacle of your throat. “can’t bitch or whine anymore now, and i fucking love it.”

“fuck you,” you managed to breathe out, her hand hard on your windpipe.

“your cunt doesn’t seem to fuckin’ hate me,” she spat, her cock nudging itself deeper into your pussy, and you held back your wanton noises.

you spat in her face, and for a singular moment, she held all movements, but she smeared your spit off her face, smudging it back onto yours.

“are you that stupid? don’t tell me you are,” she said, spitting at your face and backhanded you, barely missing your jaw. you yelped out a cry as she continued to fuck into you, and put her hand back onto your throat.

“‘m not stupid, i’m not,” you cried, and she nearly laughed in your face, using her spare hand to smack the back of your thigh.

“you’re disgusting for this — letting your older coworker fuck you, treat you like a fuck doll,” emery groaned, her hand tightening on your throat. “out of all the ways i thought of shutting you up, i knew this was the best one.”

your eyebrows furrowed together as you managed to hold eye contact with her, your moans and whines bouncing off every wall in the bedroom, surely being heard from outside.

“i hate you too, sweetheart — but i love fucking your cunt,” she stated, her hand unclasping from your throat, and replaced your hands with her own onto the back of your thighs, holding them in place.

your own hands grasp at the bed’s comforter, your back arching, and your body was seemingly electric, squirming around with every harsh thrust.

“it feels like i’m gonna cum, em,” you whimpered, pleading with her.

“you’re not gonna cum. give me a kiss, baby,” she said, one of her hand’s going to the back of your head to pick it up, and your lips met hers, the kiss hungry and desperate.

she tasted between spearmint and tobacco, her tongue meeting yours, and she cursed your name, groaning it as her thrusts became brutal and merciless.

the heat kept accumulating in your abdomen, feeling as if it was on fire, and your thighs trembled against her touch.

“i can’t, i can’t, please,” you begged, being too sensitive and were on the brink of tears. it had been a while since you had a proper orgasm, and every burning sensation and desire stacked amongst each other, riveting throughout your body.

“be a good bitch and hold it — you’ve already disappointed me enough,” emery seethed, and you broke into a small sob, the pleasure being beautifully overwhelming. “keep crying, baby. just feels so good, doesn’t it?”

she could tell you were about to let go of your climax, coming to full stop which only earned a symphony of protests from you, and towered back over you again.

another slap to your face.

“be fuckin’ grateful i’m even touching you,” she said, and you whimpered, only nodding. she put her hand near your mouth, and you looked merely confused. “spit.”

you spat into her hand as she inched back and you could feel your saliva being used as a lubricant, giving you only a few seconds to mentally prepare.

“i told you i’d stop once i got you to cry,” emery reminded, and in a single second, she was pushing inside of your bottom, a heavy gasp eliciting from you.

you had minimal strength to keep your legs up, and emery immediately noticed, getting closer to you and had them hung over her shoulders.

you were being torn apart the seams, but you loved it — god, emery fucking into you and stretching you apart to her own satisfaction was all you ever needed.

“tell me you’re sorry,” she said, her necklace dangling in your face and you held profusely eye contact with her. “apologize to me, and i’ll maybe consider letting you cum.”

you shook your head, moaning her name without even realizing it, and it was the sweetest sound to her eyes.

emery loved it — no, she adored it. it was the softest sound with the sickest intentions behind it, and the knowing that the mutual hatred towards one another is what fueled her to fuck you.

“you feel s’good, em,” you mumbled, soft whimpers sewn in between, and your fingernails dug into the comforter, surely ripping the thread. “it feels so, so good, but i—”

“you’re gonna keep fuckin’ taking it until you apologize,” she said, and she was certain on that, knowing that was the only way you could orgasm.

and your orgasm was painful, brutally poking at your abdomen, wanting to be free; but you were too prideful, and she was too egotistical.

your cries were beautiful, and you knew it was helping her in her own depraved ways, getting her off as her cock moved further into you, your ass perfectly sucking it in.

you knew your makeup was ruined, mascara running down your soft cheeks, and emery just adored the sight of you being ruined all because of her.

“you gonna apologize, sweetheart?” she asked.

“you can’t even keep going!”

“i can go on all night until i hear those two words,” she said, giving you a hast kiss, and harshly smacked your swollen cunt, causing you to jolt.

you could say it and not mean it, she wouldn’t be able to tell. your orgasm was too much, pressuring inside of you, and your cries shifted into heavy sobs.

because you finally cracked, and sobbed out, “i’m sorry! i—i’m sorry, fuck!”

“yeah, baby? you’re sorry?” she wondered, and ran her fingers between your puffy cunt before rubbing your bud. “you’re sorry for what exactly?”

“for being mean a—and disrespectful,” you cried, and your climax was at the edge of your cunt, ready to let go of it all. “please, please! i need to cum, i can’t anymore.”

emery’s thrust paced up, and she rode you through your head as your back arched the moment your orgasm flushed out of you.

you cried her name in a practical mantra, and she cursed every word, taking a few more seconds to slowly fuck into you.

it felt like minutes until she came to a halt, and the two of you tried to gather lungfuls of oxygen, seeing stars in your vision.

she gently slipped out of you, and completely took off the harness, patting your leg. you thought maybe she would comfort you a bit, maybe lay next to you or check up on you for a second.

“i’m gonna go shower,” she said, putting her hair up into a ponytail.

no kiss, not a single aftercare.

the second she walked into her bathroom, closing the door, you used every minuscule of muscle and strength to get up from the bed.

you hurriedly changed back into your clothes and tugged on your shoes, storming out of her bedroom.

you remembered your purse being on the walk in table, opening it and grabbed your phone, seeing multiple missed text messages from your friends in a shared chat.

trinity : did she fuck you…. be open and honest!

victoria : WAIT WHAT

victoria : EMERY FUCKED HER???

whitaker : i wouldn’t be surprised and trin did call this.

samira : possibly. they left together and we haven’t heard anything in nearly two hours.

trinity : me and abbot made a bet so please update.

victoria : cass is looking over my shoulders and reading all these btw

trinity : hello beautiful milf :P

whitaker : why are u betting with my boyfriend

trinity : shut up mouse.

victoria : why isn’t she answering her phone !!!!!!!

you : someone pick me up. right now. in under two minutes.

you : i think i have cum running down my thighs i can’t tell.