Fake Slackers Novels & Stories

Is she trying to put me face down before we even start a movie? “I got work tomorrow morning, you know." "So do I." She whips her hand in the air, a smug smile on her lips. "Just call out sick. I'm sure it'll work. You are engaged to my boss' boss' boss." The alcohol makes it impossible to stop my wide smile that follows, and Sofia laughs even harder. "Like he'd allow that." "Oh, he would. I'm sure you could even convince him to call out, too." I roll my eyes before my phone buzzes against the countertop again, the

Hiroto slaps him in the back while he chokes on his words and turns to Hiroto in his familiar tyrant look "I am not fat!!!!. You're all just thin little chopstick bitches.Adam, I am supporting you, so you owe me 5 bucks; Adam and I are not fat, we're buff. You're all toothpicks that we could break in half. So clearly we're the strongest of this group. Muahahahaha!!!"Everyone including me looks at him weirdly, it's like a kid on an extreme sugar rush and a serial killer together

Natalia says panicked and my heart drops ------ hello guys, what to know how Dylan and Sophia look like, check out my F******k Group. It's called "Stories By Menna". It has a black and white wolf photo with red font on it so you won't be confused with another. https://www.f******k.com/groups/343882321009167/

Take a look around you, it’s all gone tits up. ‘What an asshole,’ said Jackson. Timms had been ready to make something of it right there and then, even if it meant taking on all three Yanks, but something bizarre had happened. Even more bizarre than everything up to that point. Even stranger than people who were supposed to be out of it, struck down by a virus that just sent you to sleep, getting up and attacking you, shrugging off bullets and fire like it was nothing.

I wiped my face with the sleeve of my hoodie and plastered on my face the brightest smile I could manage before picking. It was a facetime call. “Hey,” I managed, forcing brightness into my voice. “What’s up?” Mae’s face appeared. Poker-faced and eyes narrowed. She didn’t dabble with hi’s or hello’s. Just straight to the point. “Some random number just sent me a video of you giving head to someone,” she said flatly. Ice the size of a dozen hundred needles flooded my veins. “What? That’s insane. Can I see it?” She shared her screen without a word and there I was again, kneeling and eager, lost in what I was doing.

My gaze landed on a new user added to the group chat. Unlike everyone else, the user had no username, with a hamster as a profile picture. I sneered. Very unprofessional. With the rage bubbling in me, I typed away on my keyboard. Spilling my thoughts about how unprofessional it was to not use an actual name and picture in an important work group. Satisfied, I exhaled and clicked the send arrow. But just then... Mr. Crawford's message popped up just as mine uploaded. His message tagged the strange user. [Welcome to the group chat, Mr. Davenport.]

, and leaned back, flushed and satisfied. The tips started rolling in almost immediately. Two hundred dollars in the first hour. Enough to cover groceries and the electric bill that was overdue. Grace smiled to herself, a twisted mix of shame and power running through her. No one would ever know it was her. ASlimySlut, often abbreviated as ASS, was just a faceless fantasy.

Can't wait to fùck you tonight. *****

added the senior seriously. "What?"

No response. Oh fuck.