Morosis|Creepypasta Reverse Harem x FEM! Reader

Margaritaville

1┆Enter Jeff ★ ₊ ˚⟡

"𝓤𝓶𝓶𝓶𝓶 𝓘'𝓿𝓮 𝓷𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓷 𝓽𝓸 o𝓸𝓿𝓪 𝓳𝓪𝓿𝓪."

         The bottom of the red solo cup stared placidly back at the girl. The green film sloshed at the bottom as she gave it one more shake. It was empty, met with a frown from her glossy lips.

This must have been her fourth—no fifth margarita served enthusiastically from the 20-something frat-boy manning an Amazon-bought ice machine. Sure, it was watered down and contained a cheap margarita mix, but the tequila had gone to her head 3 drinks ago.

By now, she had been throwing ass for hours on end and had returned to the plastic table for another iced monstrosity Jimmy Buffet himself would turn a nose to. The girl began to debate further risking her chances of alcohol poisoning when a melodic sound caused her to break her train of thought.

The voice of Kesha was more than enough to convince her to return to the muggy living room of the overpacked frat house. She swayed her hips to the rhythm as she sauntered through the glass door, her red cup discarded to the wind and falling unenthusiastically onto the lawn.

She maneuvered her way through swaths of men getting no game and pairs of intense make-outs alike. She approached the throbbing speaker set. Most people were sat to the side, taking long drags from tiny pens or joyously slouched on the couch, engaged in alcohol-fueled conversation. The girl couldn't care less and continued to sway to the early 2000s banger that graced the speakers.

Her actions were keenly watched by a pair of green eyes from across the room. He had been observing the girl for a while now but had soon grown bored with watching her drunken display. He left the side of his friend, appearing before her with a sly smirk played on his lips. He wore a Spirit Halloween rendition of a Patrick Bateman costume, fake blood dashed across his cheek. He dragged his gaze up and down the girl's body, fitted in her own costume of a PlayBoy bunny. It was contrived, she knew that, but she felt hot so then again whose business was it?

She immediately stopped dancing at the sight of him, his plastic jacket blurring into colorful lines. She immediately became aware of how exposed her chest was.

"Fuck off Harrison, you aren't ruining Kesha for me." She pointed an accusatory finger at the discount American Psycho, her whole body wobbling as she did so.

The blonde threw his hands up in defeat, tousling his curled hair with it.

"Hey I'm just checking in on you, what's so bad about that?" He gave her an innocent smile.

She narrowed her eyes as she slurred over her words, "Because your shitty vibe is... shitty! And I want none of it."

He shook his head and laughed coolly, "I think you need to relax. How about you sit down before you fall over and we can get you another drink?"

She went to respond snarkily to his offer, but the prospect of another drink was not entirely unwelcome.

She mulled over his words and he extended a toned arm behind her shoulders. He took up the small of her back and gently guided her towards a nearby couch. She followed hesitantly, allowing herself to be escorted over. Just as she was about to surrender herself to the plush surface, a voice broke through the thrum of the synthetic beat.

"(Y/N!), girl where have you been all night?"

The girl turned her head to behold her concerned roommate. The much taller girl wore a closet costume of Tiffany Valentine from Bride of Chucky.

The drunken girl took one long look at her friend before furrowing her brows, "More like where have you been? I thought you left like an hour ago and I had to fuck it up on my own!"