Fuck it. Look… I'm really sexually-deprived. And to let off steam, this was created. Also, I might've been a *bit* cross-faded doing this story… in three days… mostly blazed… So it's definitely not my best work.

Don't judge me.

Oh, Danny boy owns this chiz. And "chiz". Lucky guy. *piss-off face*

Updated on 2/23/17
Jesus fucking Christ, what the HELL was wrong with me and HOW did any of you enjoy this? Major edits on the way... jeez.


You hate it when she does this to you. She always manages to make your heart turn and twist whenever she smiles, whenever she laughs at some joke that probably would make bunnies cry, hell, whenever she looks at you. It downright pisses you off.

It's that sole reason- the turning and twisting- that makes you hate her, the reason you sabotage her sound equipment and practically try to make everyone hate her the way you do. It's not really because of your play; that can be fixed with the right kind of persuasion (i.e, coconuts). You just really hate what she makes you feel, because you know it's never going to lead to anything good and it's just not fair.

It's all her fault.

You may not agree with what she does to you, but you won't deny the things she does to you. You're not a complete idiot, and if it ever did become public, it's not like anyone would dare tell you anything about it.

You're Jade fuckin' West.

After she humiliates you and makes that diapered idiot pick you up and drag you away to the back of his car, you decide you just absolutely despise her. You quickly find your way out of the overgrown man-baby's car with ease after successfully using your heels for more than looking good.

By the time you get back to the party that you (unsuccessfully) tried to ruin, you notice people start to leave and the music quieting down. You look back at the high-school students running towards the entrance of the school yelling, "Afterparty!"

You secretly smile because the rumors about your heart being colder than ice and your soul darker than the abysses in space only make you laugh; you can enjoy a good party. With a small warehouse full of high-school students and booze, this seemed promising. You wouldn't, nor couldn't deny that.

Booze.

There will be booze.

The realization hits you faster than a bullet from pointblank. Your smile threatens to split your face.

It wasn't even about humiliating her anymore. It was about time you got what you wanted, as well as what you needed.


You already knew she was gonna show up. Everyone shows up to after-prom parties. It's like the unwritten rule of high-school or something to get messed up after a PG event at school. After watching her going into the warehouse with a group of people, you decide to get your plan underway.

You move to the back of your car, hurriedly pulling down the tights rolled up under your dress and taking out a black tanktop you had stashed in the back of your driver's seat, the material soft and thin. After taking off the dress, you brush off the gray cut-off shorts that were well hidden as well.

Your dress lay forgotten on the floor of your backseat as you notice some of the kids used the same tactic as you and changed from their "classy" outfits when you walked into the party. But she stayed in her dress. You think it's a big mistake for her, but a total jackpot for you. It was time to get things settled in your head… and in your pants. Sure, the thought may be a little twisted, but you wouldn't be you if it wasn't.

You went to the drinks and when you saw there was no booze yet, you chuckled once quietly in triumph. Grabbing one of the clear plastic cups just to keep up the façade that you weren't up to any shenanigans, fill it up with Sprite, and drop a small tablet into it. You watch it fizzle in the caffeinated drink before dumping it into a new cup so it would mix well.

For a moment, you hesitate while looking down into the cup. You decide dwelling on it would only ruin the endgame. She'll forgive you... Maybe. After all, it wasn't like you were planning on downright raping her; it was just ecstasy, not Rohypnol. As much as you think you hate her, you want her to feel good (as well as yourself in the process).

You clear your throat and go up to her confidently, spiked drink in hand. You tap her shoulder, making everyone else around her quiet down and stare at you. You merely smile innocently, completely fake since you're such a good actress.

"Let's go," is all you say, knowing she'd obey. She'd always obey. You hated that as well because it was just so pathetic. The both of you eventually move a bit farther from the party where the others are mingling, not dancing or torturing their eardrums.

She raises her eyebrow in that way that questions your motives, that way that seems to be used on you the most, and you frown slightly. You "hate" it.

Before she can get a word out, you hold up the cup lazily, the word "drink" coming out of your lips bitterly.

Fortunately, she accepts it, and your lips curl up slightly. If you could put seafood in her bra, you could get her drunk.

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry, y'know, for trying to fuck up your prom," you let out smoothly, years of acting being a blessing at the moment. And for what I'm going to do later.

Her lips purse slightly and you restrain from biting your lips because you 'hate' that, too. "Yeah… Okay," she replies, a soft smile creeping its way up her lips. You raise your eyebrow briefly at her, desperately burying your desires to do dirty and naughty things to her right then and there. To further show her forgiveness, she takes a sip of the Sprite, making a face as she stared at the drink.

She must've thought that it was stale or something because she just shrugs and keeps drinking it, making you let out a genuine smile.


It didn't take long for the drug to get to Tori, and that statement became a fact when you saw her dancing up against several people. You try to keep all the ridiculous notions in your head about jealousy and possessiveness down to an extreme minimum. Patience is a virtue and you know that, even if you're completely opposed to patience.

In time, you'll have her where you want; sweating and panting under you, begging for more as you-

Suddenly she's there, in front of you, eyes dark with something familiar but distant. She reeks of sweat and alcohol, but you probably smell just as bad.

A few minutes ago, a large keg was brought in along with a group of jocks, now taking up half the table. Obviously, you weren't going to pass that opportunity up. You took the keg's tap and instantly started getting cheers and chants to chug, chug, CHUG! And you did.

There was no way you were going to let Virgin-Vega out-drink you.

The warm embrace of the liquor kicked in slowly, making a blissful smile finds its way onto your face soon after. Somewhere in the next few minutes, you decided you weren't shit-faced enough and took someone's drink, downing it and throwing the cup back at them as you walked away, snorted a line off of some guy's chest, and had pills passed to you (by another girl's tongue).

But you probably won't remember any of it tomorrow morning.

Before you could even remember the time it took to get this drunk, or how much you drank, or what you ingested, she's got you by the wrist and pulling you away from the party.

She led you to a bathroom far from everyone, both of you surprised to even find one, but you don't really think of that now. You're both laughing as if the funniest thing in the world just happened. You don't even hear the lock click softly behind you.

Then, she's smiling at you, the both of you sitting across from each other on the floor. You take a while to simmer down, your body shaking slightly from the giggles as your head lies heavily against the door.

"What, Vega?" you breathe out tiredly, the same tone you usually use, just… drunker. You're tired and thoughts are nothing but jumbled sounds in your head that you find difficult to get in order.

"Nothin'," she drawls out, almost singing it. You suddenly remember how much you like her singing, despite all the crap you say about it. And you like how she dances, mostly because you're an ass type of girl and goddamn did she have an ass-

She laughs, making you blink because you hadn't noticed you were talking aloud. You only notice when she says, "You're rambling."

"Oh," is all you can say before she's smiling loudly and the silence envelopes you both. You don't even care about the blush on your face, because "it's the alcohol".

Then she shifts, probably taking something out of her pocket. You make a soft humming noise when you heard the soft, familiar clicking noise of-

"Want a hit?" she asks, holding out a fucking joint.

So she does have a dark side…


The room's spinning and cloudy, your head feels like it's rolling on your neck, your fingertips are warm and your stomach's fuzzy. She's licking her lips, staring at yours, fingers at the bottom of your shirt and her body's on yours and she's on you.

Holy shit, she's on you!

So maybe all the extra drugs were a bad idea. Why? Well, SHE'S ON YOU! You want to stop her, push her away, do something to stop her because it's supposed to be the other way around. But you can't always have what you want, something you learn quickly when she's pressing her soft lips viciously on yours.

Not quite what you'd expect from Vega, but you'd be damned if you said you didn't like it. Her tongue in your mouth doesn't really help stop the room from spinning, either.

All your silly ideas of getting into her pants cease as soon as she's in yours.

A sound, something akin to a weak baby kitten mewing for its mother, rips its way out of your throat. Your eyebrows knit together the same second, your conscience telling you to shut the hell up, but it seems like she heard you, because then she's rubbing you in all the right places over the fabric of that useless undergarment you knew you shouldn't have worn, and you can feel her smiling on your neck.

When did she get to your neck? 'Who cares?' is all you can come up with because you want your tongue in her mouth. You make it happen, her hands being momentarily stunned at the top your panties as a result. You smile, biting her lower lip suddenly, and making her gasp slightly.

Your head spins again for a few seconds when you push her back with a thud and a grunt from both of you. Her mouth opened slightly as she gasped for air, the spinning probably going through her head as well, and your arms feel weaker. Her hands find their way up to your neck, holding you securely by the hair and neck, making sure you didn't leave any time soon.

Not like you were.

Resisting the urge to just fall back and let her have her way with you is almost unbearable, but like hell you were going to let that happen. You have her hands pinned at her sides, your knee between her legs, and your eyes are screwed shut because she's doing something incredible with her tongue all of a sudden.

Even though your mind is doing flips and sending you on trips, you manage to think, 'How fucked up are we?'


Just to let you guys know I'm alive, and procrastinating.

I'm still indecisive as to which way to start the second part. So I'll leave it up to majority rules.

1. Jade passes out.
2. Someone walks in and
they pass out.

I want someone passing out.

Reviews? Seriously, 'cause if you don't, Jade won't visit me late at night when I'm tasting the clouds and offer me to taste her, then I won't have anything to write about to get you kids off because honestly, what else are you here for?

So… Do it.