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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.
The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. All sexual acts depicted in this story take place between consenting adults. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Title: It Was Awesome!
Author: RapeU
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What follows is a story within The Life and Misadventures of Hannah and Wendy universe, taking place shortly before Hannah and Wendy officially become girlfriends. Wendy and Zoe are best friends, college freshmen, and roommates trying to adjust to the strange freedom and uncertainty of their first semester away from home. While Wendy goes out to dinner with Hannah, hoping their relationship finally becomes something more, Zoe heads to a loud off-campus party searching for distraction, excitement, and maybe a way to hold onto the version of life she feels slowly slipping away. Beneath the music, alcohol, and reckless freshman decisions, Zoe struggles with a quieter fear: that things between her and Wendy are changing forever.
This is a Zoe POV story, because I need to branch out and write from a POV other than Wendy's every now and then
This story is also an entry in the Party Hard! Contest.
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It Was Awesome!
The bass from my laptop speakers was bad enough to sound like the music was underwater. I turned it up anyway.
“You know the neighbors are gonna murder us eventually, right?” Wendy asked from across the dorm room.
“Let ‘em try,” I grinned, “Old Betsy and The Five Avengers could use a little workout.”
Wendy rolled her eyes, “You’ve totally been watching cartoons instead of doing classwork.”
“I’ll plead the fifth to that,” I smirked as I stood in front of the mirror. Wendy was sitting cross-legged on her bed pretending not to stare at her phone every thirty seconds.
“Okay,” I said. “Important question. Black top or red top?”
“The red one,” Wendy said without looking up.
“You didn’t even look!” I protested.
“Because you ask me every five minutes,” she exclaimed.
“Fashion is a process, Wendy.”
“You’ve changed outfits three times,” she pointed out.
“Four,” I corrected with a grin.
She laughed softly. I loved the sound of her laugh. “Come on, you’ll look great,” she said. “Guys don’t care what you’re wearing,”
I frowned, “That feels fake.”
“Zoe, half the male population would fall in love with you if you handed them a mozzarella stick.”
I let out a guffaw, but stopped laughing when I noticed Wendy smiling at her phone again. The smile happened before she even looked at the screen.
“There she is,” I said dramatically. “The other woman.”
Wendy looked up immediately. “Oh my God you’re impossible.”
“You’re smiling at your phone again,” I winked.
“I am not,” she blushed.
“You literally are right now.”
She tried to hide her blush and smile. Somehow that made it worse. I flopped backward onto my bed.
“It’s okay,” I said. “You can admit you’re obsessed.”
“She texted me first.”
“A likely story.”
Wendy rolled her eyes, but she looked happy in a way I hadn’t ever seen from her before. I stared at the ceiling for a second before asking casually, “So what’s the plan tonight?”
“Dinner.”
“And then?”
Wendy shrugged, but her face immediately betrayed her.
“You’re totally going to ask her to be your girlfriend aren’t you?”
She acted like she was going to protest, but gave up a few seconds later and burst into giggles. “Maaaayyyybe.”
“What if she asks first?”
Wendy’s eyes went wide “Oh my God she plans everything, she’d totally be the one to ask first!” She let out a squeal of delight and ran to the bathroom to do her makeup.
I felt a strange ache in my chest. Not jealousy, I didn’t like Wendy in a romantic way. It’s just…we’d been best friends forever. Then Hannah came along and took Wendy’s breath away. It made Wendy different. Not bad different. Just different enough that sometimes I wanted to rewind time and live through the old days one more time knowing they wouldn’t last forever.
“You okay?” Wendy asked after emerging from the bathroom looking radiant.
I realized I’d gone quiet. “Yeah.” I forced a grin. “I’m just realizing I’m about to lose you to the lesbian agenda.”
Wendy snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’ll stop hanging out with me.”
“I literally live with you.”
“Not emotionally.”
She laughed again, but softer this time. Then she crossed the tiny space between our beds and bumped her shoulder lightly against mine.
“Hey, you’ll always be my best friend forever. Things may change, but you’ll always have a place in my heart.”
Her words helped for about three seconds. Then her phone buzzed again and she smiled before she even opened the message. And suddenly I felt stupid for needing reassurance in the first place.
“Well,” I announced. “I’m going to this party tonight and making terrible life choices.”
Wendy grimaced, “Please don’t make terrible choices. The last one you made was pooping in public.”
I felt my face get hot. “Hey it’s not my fault the restroom was out of order when I was almost over a stomach bug.”
She sighed, “Almost is the key word there.” Her face shifted into serious mode. “Seriously though, be careful tonight.”
“I’m always careful.”
Wendy gave me a look, “Zoe…”
“Okay, emotionally reckless but physically careful.”
“I mean it. Freshman girls at parties are basically nature documentary prey animals.”
“Yes, mom.” I gave her a mock salute
“Z, I’m serious.”
“I know.”
“College boys are idiots.”
“How would you know? You’re dating one of the lesbians.”
Wendy snorted. “Exactly. I escaped the problem. You better text me later.”
“You better text me first, girlfriend.”
Wendy threw a pillow at my face. I laughed and threw it back. But the weird feeling stayed anyway.
***
I’d spent all week excited about the party. Some local KISS cover band was playing rock music in an upperclassmen house. Real college experience apparently. But standing outside the house alone suddenly felt different than imagining it with Wendy beside me.
Music pounded through the walls hard enough to shake the porch railing. People crowded the porch and shouted at each other over the music like volume alone could make strangers into friends.
I checked my phone out of habit even though I knew nothing was there. A sigh escaped me as I selected Wendy’s text thread. I almost sent her a text, but instead I locked my phone and shoved it back into my jacket pocket.
I felt pathetic and didn’t like it. So, I walked inside. The house smelled like weed, beer, sweat, and something burning in the kitchen. Someone handed me a drink before I even fully got through the doorway.
“Thanks?” I said.
“No problem!”
I had absolutely no idea who he was and gave the drink to some guy the moment he wasn’t looking at me. The guy I handed it to looked confused for a second before disappearing back into the crowd.
The music in the living room was loud enough that I could feel it in my ribs. People danced badly in every available inch of space. I found a place to get beer, got my own drink, and joined in on the fun. I danced with everybody and nobody. It didn’t matter who. The alcohol made it work.
Noise filled every empty space in my head. The music drowned out thinking. The alcohol made my body feel lighter. Somebody passed me a joint and I took a big hit. For the first time all night, I stopped thinking about Wendy.
Time blurred into a mixture of colors and shapes. I ended up sitting on the back porch steps at some point because the house had gotten too hot. A guy in a faded leather jacket sat beside me a minute later.
“You escaped too?” he asked.
“I was beginning to think the floor inside was actually sticky on purpose.”
“That’s how you know it’s a good party,” he smiled.
I wrinkled my nose, “That’s just gross.”
He laughed quietly. He had dark hair falling into his eyes and his face was kinda cute in a puppy dog way. Not intimidating. Not “mysterious college musician” hot. More like somebody who looked like he apologized when people bumped into him.
“You with the band?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not this one. But I do play guitar.” He hesitated for half a second before adding, “I’m Ryan.”
“Zoe.”
He leaned back against the porch railing while muffled music thudded through the walls behind us. “You seem sad,” he said suddenly.
I blinked at him. “What?”
“You’re sad about something,” he repeated.
“That’s a terrible thing to say to someone you don’t know.”
His eyes widened immediately. “No, wait, I didn’t mean…” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry. Sometimes I just…” He stopped talking and his face started turning red.
I stared at him for a second. “Oh my God,” I said.
“What?”
“You were trying a new pickup line to see if it worked.”
Ryan’s face somehow turned even redder. “No.”
I just looked at him.
“…Okay, yeah.”
I burst out laughing.
“I’m serious,” he groaned. “I’m not good at this social stuff.”
“The line was ‘you seem sad?’”
“In my defense, it sounded cooler in my head.”
“That’s because everything sounds cooler in your head.”
“Wow. You recovered from being sad pretty fast.”
I pointed at him dramatically. “See? That one was better. You should’ve opened with sarcasm.”
Ryan laughed and relaxed slightly after that, like he’d been expecting me to make fun of him and was relieved I wasn’t leaving.
“Honestly,” he admitted, “I almost opened with asking if you liked The Smashing Pumpkins.”
“That’s worse.”
“I know,” he sighed.
“Do you even like The Smashing Pumpkins?”
Ryan shrugged, “Not really.”
“That somehow makes this sadder.”
He laughed hard enough to snort a little before immediately looking horrified at himself. For some reason that tiny awkward sound made him more attractive to me, not less. Maybe it was because he looked nervous. Maybe because he was trying so hard to seem cooler than he actually was. Or maybe because tonight I was tired of people feeling emotionally out of reach. Ryan felt reachable.
My phone buzzed suddenly in my pocket. I pulled it out immediately.
SHE ASKED ME!!!!!! WE’RE OFFICIALLY GIRLFRIENDS!!!!!!
I stared at the screen while my chest did something strange and painful. I was happy for Wendy, truly I was. But that happiness was also the worst part.
Ryan glanced over slightly. “Good news?”
“Yeah,” I said softly. I typed back fast before I could think too hard about anything.
AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU
Then three heart emojis because that felt like what a good best friend would send. I locked my phone immediately afterward.
Ryan watched me quietly for a second. “You okay?”
“I think so.”
But even saying it out loud sounded uncertain.
A short silence stretched between us before he broke it. “Need to talk to someone about it?”
I sighed, “Maybe.”
“Heard it’s quieter upstairs.” He cringed and his face flushed red again.
For one stupid second, what I actually wanted was to be back in our dorm with Wendy. Movie nights in our dorm. Making fun of bad campus food. Her laughing at me for losing my student ID again. Not this. Not loud music, alcohol, weed, and strangers. But Wendy was somewhere else with her girlfriend. And I suddenly didn’t know where I fit anymore.
So, instead of shooting Ryan down I stood up and said, “Yeah. Let’s go upstairs.”
The party was built for cover bands and hookups, and the house was old enough that every step on the steep staircase vibrated through my shoes. Ryan followed, careful and a little sheepish, like he was afraid someone would jump out and reveal the whole thing as a prank.
The landing was dark except for a lava lamp on the windowsill, giving everything a weird, 90s glow. The upstairs bathroom line was a cluster of three girls and a guy who looked ready to puke. We ended up in a room with a twin bed. Ryan shut the door behind us. I plopped myself on the bed. He hovered by the door, hands in his pockets, and tried to look casual while he studied the room.
Ryan stood by the window shifting his weight from foot to foot like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He glanced at me, then away, then back again.
“Sorry,” he said. “I, uh. Haven’t done this before.”
“Sat on a bed?”
He laughed, but it trailed off fast. “I mean, like, with a girl. Alone. Never thought I would actually get this far.”
I realized what he meant a split second before he turned fully red. I wanted to tease him, but instead I found myself softening.
“Ryan,” I laughed quietly, “you look like you’re about to pass out.”
“I’m trying really hard to seem cooler than I am right now,” he admitted
“Yeah, I noticed.”
He groaned and covered his face with one hand.
“Hey.” I nudged him lightly. “Relax.”
He lowered his hand slowly.
“I’ve done this before,” I said. “You don’t have to be nervous.”
“Easy for you to say.”
I smiled a little.
“Trust me. I can teach you.”
I shifted on the bed and patted the mattress beside me. He sat, careful, like the twin bed was a bear trap.
I grinned. “You know you can back out anytime, right?”
He nodded again, then added, “You too.”
That made me like him a little more. I figured, fuck it, and leaned in, kissing him. He tasted faintly like cheap beer and something sweet, and he kissed me back with almost zero technique, but a lot of sincerity. The kiss was soft, clumsy, and earnest. I remembered my first kiss, the way I was so scared of being found out as an imposter that I overcorrected, bit the guy’s lip so hard he bled. Ryan was nothing like that. He hovered at the edge of everything, waiting for a sign that he was welcome. So I gave it to him.
I pulled him closer, and after a second’s hesitation he put his hands on my sides, light as feathers, like I was glass or royalty or both. My hands slid under his shirt. He got a little better at kissing as I started to pull his shirt up. The kiss broke as I pulled the shirt over his head. I guided his hands over to my blouse. He took the hint and managed to slide it off me effortlessly.
Ryan froze afterward like he was super nervous. His hands hesitantly moved towards my chest. I realized Ryan probably hadn’t ever taken a bra off before. I unhooked my bra and slid it off to the floor.
“Wow,” Ryan whispered, then started to turn red again.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I said. “They’re just boobs. They won’t bite you.”
“Just boobs,” Ryan echoed, smiling nervously. I almost laughed at the wide-eyed way he stared, like he was worried I’d notice and revoke his privileges.
I kissed him again, deeper this time, and slid my hand down between us. He shivered, hands fumbling along my sides, settling tentatively at my hips. We made out slow, a little awkward, but sweet. The way he touched me was like he wasn’t sure which moves were allowed, so he kept waiting for me to give him a manual. I liked it, actually. Gentle. Careful. We slowly got fully naked, our pants and underwear joined the pile of clothes on the floor. He was so nervous and earnest that it almost made me nervous too. I lay back on the bed and spread my legs.
“This is really happening,” he whispered.
“Yes,” I nodded. “Tonight I’m yours.”
He nearly fell while trying to get on top of me, but managed to catch himself. His mouth opened in the start of an apology, but I put a finger to his lips. “It’s ok,” I whispered.
His body pressed down on me and we kissed again. I felt his member brush against me. He looked at me, like he was asking for permission again, so I gave it to him with my hands at his hips and a long kiss I hoped would keep him from thinking too hard. Then, carefully, he lined himself up and pushed inside. He made a tiny gasping sound at first contact, like the moment was more than he’d been ready for. I almost laughed, but it felt really good so instead I just reached up and pulled him down to kiss me again.
It wasn’t the best sex of my life, but it sure as hell wasn’t the worst. There was something charming about how slow he went, how earnestly he tried to pay attention to whether or not I liked it. He kept pausing to check my face, then would keep going, like he was running a checklist in his head and didn’t want to miss anything. He was so careful I almost wanted to tell him to go harder, but I liked the slow, so I didn’t rush him. I just liked the steady, clumsy weight of another person on me, the heat of his body, the way he kept gauging my expression like I was the only puzzle in the room worth solving.
Eventually, he lost himself to the rhythm and I could tell he was getting close. He started to pull out, but I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him back in.
“I’m on the pill,” I whispered breathlessly, “It’s ok.”
“Holy shit you’re awesome,” he whispered back just as breathless. He didn’t hold back then, and I let out a groan as I felt the pleasure explode inside me. He let out a few low grunts and finished with one large thrust. Then he collapsed onto me, breathing hard.
I could barely breathe because of his weight, but I knew from prior experience not to panic. After a few minutes, which were probably only a few seconds, he finally rolled off of me.
I felt a million things at once: a little high, a little electric, and a lot like I’d just crossed some invisible line. Not in a tragic or regretful way, just unfamiliar, like a door opening into a hallway I didn’t know existed but was curious to explore.
Ryan lay beside me, staring up at the popcorn ceiling with the same kind of wonder most people reserved for eclipses or baby animals. His skin glistened faintly with nervous sweat. I watched his chest rise and fall, almost synchronized with my own, and for a second it felt like the party outside the door was happening on another planet.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I let out a soft laugh. “You ask that a lot.”
Ryan winced. “Sorry.”
“No,” I said. “I like it.”
The muffled bass downstairs kept thudding through the walls, softer now, like the house itself was getting tired. Somewhere down the hallway somebody laughed too loudly before getting shushed. Ryan turned onto his side to look at me.
“So,” he said carefully, “was I terrible?”
“You were good,” I said honestly. “Just nervous.”
Ryan looked horrified for a moment. I laughed softly. “Relax. Nervous isn’t bad. I enjoyed it.”
A sheepish smile crept up on Ryan’s face. “Good,” he said sounding relieved.
Silence settled between us. It wasn’t the awkward kind of silence, but the kind where both people are tired from booze and sex. Ryan eventually scooted a little closer like he was asking permission without saying it out loud. I let him. His arm wrapped loosely around my waist. He was warm, gentle, and safe.
Maybe it was the alcohol still lingering in my bloodstream, or the weed, or the emotional exhaustion from spending the whole night trying not to feel abandoned, but suddenly I felt unbelievably tired. Ryan’s breathing gradually evened out against my shoulder. For the first time all night, my thoughts finally went quiet. I closed my eyes and somewhere downstairs, behind layers of walls and music and bodies and distance, the party kept going without us.
***
I woke up with sunlight stabbing directly through cheap blinds and into my skull.
“Ugh. What the hell happened last night,” I whispered. Then I realized I wasn’t in my dorm room. For several seconds I had absolutely no idea where I was. Then, I saw the sleeping man beside me.
Ryan.
Memories came back slowly and out of order. Rock music at the party. Laughter. Weed. Beer. Hands. Sex.
My mouth felt disgusting. My head hurt. My stomach twisted unpleasantly. Beside me, Ryan was still asleep. I sat up carefully and reached for my phone from the floor. There was a text from Wendy
Did you have fun???
I stared at it for a long time. Long enough that the screen dimmed once before I touched it again. Then finally I typed:
It was awesome!
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it flowed so smoothly, so, I enjoyed the pace.
I liked her! And she was really sweet with Ryan.
I love how respectful and grateful he seemed when Zoe gave him the green light. And I can see why she did! What woman doesn’t like a gentleman who plays guitar, with sweeping black hair that falls in his eyes!? 
it’s so great and satisfying 
Please don't add a plot twist somewhere down the road revealing that Ryan is actually a creep.