Chapter Text
For the record, Shauna blamed Tai and Van for this.
She also blamed the shitty economy for tuition being so damn high, but that was a whole separate rant.
In the end, though, the blame landed mostly on her.
Maybe she should’ve gone to Rutgers. Maybe she should’ve realized sooner that an English degree from Brown was just an expensive personality trait. Maybe she should’ve noticed that every “Now Hiring” sign in New Jersey was purely for show.
If any of that had dawned on her sooner, maybe Shauna wouldn’t be lying on her bed right now, fingering herself in front of a camera for hundreds of horny strangers’ viewing pleasure.
It felt needless to say that a freshly out-of-college Brown grad shouldn’t have to resort to this…but when you’re buried under debt and job rejections, dignity becomes negotiable.
She had to hand it to OnlyFans, though. She was making bank.
Custom content meant she could charge whatever she wanted. Sure, call her exploitative for the high prices, but no one forced these people to click the purchase button. They paid upfront and enthusiastically.
“Mmmh, fuck!” Shauna moaned dramatically into her hand, arching her back off the mattress.
Was she actually feeling any sort of pleasure from this?
Kind of.
Her body responded the way it always did—body squirming, breath catching, limbs sweating—but her brain was elsewhere, wondering if she had enough pasta left for dinner.
She turned her head slightly toward her phone, propped carefully between her spread legs. She made sure the camera caught her flushed cheeks—never her full face—while subtly checking the notification she’d set to alert her when the purchased video hit its time limit.
Ten minutes already? Guess time flies when you’re having fun.
She quickened her pace, pumping her fingers in and out of herself.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she gasped, biting her hand to muffle the sound, letting her thighs tremble just enough to sell it. She tensed, holding for a moment, then relaxed as if she’d orgasmed for the viewer.
She slid her fingers from her body and made a deliberate show of sucking them clean.
“Thank you, YK2GEN,” she said breathlessly, leaning closer to the camera. “I hope you enjoyed your video.”
She stopped the recording, immediately sending it off before she could think too hard about it. With a heavy sigh, Shauna flopped back against her pillow, staring at the ceiling as she mentally tallied the rest of tonight’s to-do list.
One user wanted praise while they wanked it. Easy enough.
Another just wanted the audio of her moaning. Those were her favorites; she could just lie in bed, phone on her chest, and play Fortnite on mute.
A regular wanted a shower video. That one was a little trickier; she’d have to wait until the apartment was empty.
And someone wanted—
Bzzzzt!!!
Shauna groaned and grabbed her phone from the pillow.
[Taipod]: Sent $ 300 USD for a personalized request! Do you accept TheAntlerQueen?
“God fucking dammit, Tai.”
She swung her legs off the bed and used her foot to hook her discarded shirt from the floor, tossing it up and catching it one-handed while she dialed Tai’s number.
Tai answered the FaceTime on the third ring.
She was lying down, the camera angle gave Shauna a lovely view of Van’s unmistakable ginger hair sprawled across Tai’s chest.
“Well, hello, Rose,” Tai said with a grin. “Did you get my request?”
Shauna’s username was The Antler Queen—a name the three of them came up with when they were wine drunk on FaceTime, creating Shauna’s profile—but some users wanted to use her “real” name. Enter Rose…
“Will you stop sending me shit?” Shauna tossed her phone onto the bed, then shoved her arms through her sleeves. “I’m not doing your stupid requests.”
“It wasn’t stupid,” Van protested, her voice muffled by the fabric of Tai’s hoodie. “We paid to see a sensual nap.”
“I’m trying to actually make money here,” Shauna snapped, picking her phone back up. “I’m not taking your handouts.”
“It’s not a handout,” Tai corrected, gently caressing Van’s hair in a loving way that made Shauna want to vomit. “I genuinely want to see a video of you sleeping for an hour.”
“Yeah, that’s not really what people pay for,” Shauna rolled her eyes.
Had her sleep schedule been completely wrecked by juggling her grocery job and filming porn? Well, yes, but that was beside the point.
Occasionally, Tai and Van submitted dumb “self-care” requests as an excuse to funnel her money.
[VantheMan]: I would like to see a video of you eating a well-balanced breakfast.
[TheAntlerQueen]: Your request has been denied. You will be refunded $200 USD within 3–5 business days.
[VantheMan]: I would like to see a video of you eating a well-balanced breakfast with your top off.
[Taipod]: Could you please film yourself sitting on the couch, relaxing and reading?
[TheAntlerQueen]: Your request has been denied. You will be refunded $345 USD within 3–5 business days.
[Taipod]: Could you please film yourself sitting on the couch, relaxing and reading? That would be so fucking hot…
Shauna denied them every time. She understood where they were coming from, and even when they were all the way in a different state, they still looked out for her, but it was bad enough she’d resorted to this for money. She wasn’t about to make it worse by accepting charity.
Not that there was anything wrong with sex work—don’t get that twisted—she was just deeply humiliated that her degree had amounted to jack shit.
“I’ve got too many videos to film tonight,” she muttered, setting her phone on the nightstand and smoothing her comforter like she hadn’t just destroyed it on camera.
“Any from your stalker, Sweetpea09?” Van snickered.
“You joke now,” Shauna said, adjusting her pillow, “but at this rate, she’s single-handedly getting my ass out of debt.”
“She?” Van mock-gasped. “Not you misgendering Sweetpea09 on OnlyFans.”
“I know she’s a she,” Shauna shot back, glancing at her reflection in the tiny FaceTime screen, running a hand through messy brown hair, “She likes it when I call her good girl.”
Tai giggled while Van made a dramatic choking noise.
Sweetpea09 had been there since day one. She was polite, consistent, and always respectful, saying please and thank you upon every request. You’d think that wasn’t uncommon, but most users treated her like she was a vending machine with tits.
It was just refreshing when someone didn’t.
“Sooo,” Tai drawled.
Shauna’s stomach tightened immediately.
“How’s the situation with She-Who-Will-Not-Be-Named?”
Her blood went as cold as ice, her heart nearly stopping.
Jackie Taylor.
A name that, at one point, she didn’t shudder from hearing.
“It’s going fine,” Shauna said, way too quickly to be considered casual indifference.
She crossed to her bedroom door, cracking it open slightly. From the kitchen came the soft clink of a glass, and the low murmur of Jackie’s voice.
Shauna’s fingers tightened on the doorknob.
Nearly seven years later, and that sound still did something awful to her heart.
She shut the door softly.
Yeah, things were going great.
“Has she found out about your double life yet?” Van asked.
Heh, double life? Right. ‘Cause Shauna was like Spider-Man, but instead of saving the city, she saved horny strangers from an unsatisfying orgasm.
“Not yet,” Shauna admitted, leaning her forehead briefly against the door. “But it’s getting harder to come up with excuses.”
She pushed off the wooden door and started straightening things on her dresser that didn’t need to be fixed.
“She walked in last week without knocking,” Shauna muttered. “Sat right on the edge of my bed and started complaining about Jeff like I didn’t have a nine-inch plastic dick inside me.”
Tai made a horrified noise.
“I had to fake a coughing fit,” Shauna went on. “She gave me this look like she knew something was off.”
It was fucking humiliating. Not because of the toy, but because the only person she’d ever wanted to see her like that was the one sitting two feet away, talking about her boyfriend.
“And you guys remember the whole popsicle incident,” Shauna added bitterly.
For the users who preferred audio only, Shauna used popsicles for realistic oral sounds. She had a deadline for a video, due by midnight or else the user’s money got refunded, and, well, Jackie ate the last one, so she freaked the fuck out on her.
“What an unforgivable offense,” Van said solemnly.
“It wasn’t about the popsicle,” Shauna snapped.
She was met with a deafening silence. They knew exactly why she overrated…
“She just takes whatever she wants,” Shauna said quietly. “She always has. I don’t know why I thought things would change.”
They were older now. They’d had the space Shauna once thought they desperately needed during college, but nothing had really changed. Not the way they acted around each other, and unfortunately, not the ache in her chest whenever she looked at Jackie.
“And I still love her,” she finished, softer.
“She has a boyfriend,” Tai said gently.
“I’m aware,” Shauna replied, jaw tight.
Through the wall, Jackie laughed again. She was probably on the phone with her stupid-ass boyfriend, who was taking her out on a stupid-ass date tonight.
God, it pissed her off how she could hear that laugh and still feel like she was sixteen again, sitting too close on Jackie’s bed, mesmerized by every little thing about her, practically worshipping the ground she walked on.
“It’s fine,” Shauna said, though it clearly wasn’t. “We’re roommates. That’s it.”
As much as Shauna wanted to say the past was behind them, it really fucking wasn’t. Not when she came back to Jersey and crumbled the second Jackie reached out again.
Which led her here, adding yet another stupid decision to the pile: agreeing to be roommates with Jackie.
It had been easy to resent her former best friend when she was hundreds of miles away. It was a lot harder when Jackie was right in the next room, where Shauna could hear her and Jeff through the walls.
God, she fucking hated this, but she did this to herself.
Shauna had been desperate for some kind of normalcy after multiple job rejections, moving back into her mother’s attic (her childhood bedroom, mind you), and bursting into tears over the reality of crippling debt with no steady income.
Then one night she got really fucking high and really fucking drunk and stumbled to Jackie’s mansion of a house.
Apparently—because Shauna doesn’t remember—she confessed that she was “lost without her best friend” and that she “doesn’t know where I end and you begin.”
Could you believe that?
Oh, did Shauna say Jackie came to her?
That was only half true.
Shauna didn’t remember the night she showed up at Jackie’s place, but she did remember the morning after, when Jackie said they needed to talk.
They reconciled (term used loosely) and settled into something resembling a steady friendship (also used loosely).
But Shauna should’ve put the bottle down before she came up with the brilliant idea that they should move in together since they were both back to living with their parents.
If Jackie had been smart—and anything like Shauna—she should’ve said no. Payback for Shauna ripping their dream of attending Rutgers together right out from under her.
But Jackie said yes.
Why the fuck would she say yes???
And now here they were, five months later, pretending like there weren’t still things left unsaid.
Because there were.
There were so many things Shauna wished she could tell Jackie. Things she’d wanted to say since high school.
But there was one thing she absolutely didn’t want Jackie finding out about…
Her OnlyFans account.
Because if Jackie found out, she’d probably rub it in her face that she’d been right. That Shauna wouldn’t be in this position if she’d just gone to Rutgers like she was supposed to.
Or maybe she wouldn’t.
Guess they’d never know.
***
With Jackie out of the apartment, Shauna got to filming the custom content and sending it off to her beloved horny viewers.
She even managed to have an actual orgasm on camera (which was rare). User DoeEyedDeer was very lucky, indeed.
Now all that was left was the one she’d saved for last…
[AfricanGrey]:
Hello, Miss Antler Queen! :D
I had an idea for a custom video and got a little excited, so I actually wrote a script for it. I hope that’s okay! I just think you’d be really good at this particular role…
It’s an interrogation role-play where you’ve been arrested by the viewer, and she (me lol) is questioning you for information…turned sexy!
I attached the script below, but please feel free to improvise! I trust your instincts completely. I just really like the idea of you leaning close to the camera and waiting for the viewer to ask you questions.
Let me know if the price should be higher for something like this!
XOXO,
African Grey
It wasn’t uncommon for viewers to suggest role-play ideas. What was uncommon was someone submitting a full-blown script.
But Shauna had to hand it to African Grey—no one had ever wanted to interrogate her before, which made her morbidly curious about what the hell the script actually contained.
And no, she hadn’t read it yet.
Like she said, people rarely went to these lengths for a video they planned to masturbate to. Which meant it was even rarer for Shauna to actually feel excited to film something.
So she was saving it.
Better to keep the suspense until the end of the day so she had something to look forward to rather than spend the evening wallowing about Jackie.
Wow. That was really fucking sad, wasn’t it?
Anyway…
Shauna set up the scene, pinning a white sheet to the wall, which was the background she used for all her videos to keep her room hidden, just in case someone she knew ever stumbled across her content.
The chances of that happening were laughably slim. Tai and Van had certainly mocked her for being paranoid about it.
But the chances weren’t zero, so Shauna wasn’t risking it.
She dragged her desk into position, turned off the overhead lights so only the lamp illuminated the room—you know, to really sell the scene, cause she was that dedicated—and propped up her phone with the script in front of her.
This video was going to be long, which meant tedious editing later.
But hey!
Five hundred dollars was five hundred dollars.
***
Misty had been tentatively working through her nursing homework, highlighter in hand, humming a tune when the notification appeared on her laptop screen.
[The Antler Queen sent you a video].
“Oh my gosh!” Misty cheered, heart immediately beginning to race.
She abandoned the textbook without a second thought, shoving it aside as she clicked the message.
As the video loaded, Misty grabbed her printed scripted from the overhead desk cupboard, slapping it down on the desk.
She sat up a little straighter in her dorm chair, practically vibrating with anticipation as she hit play.
Misty adjusted her glasses, reading right from the script like she didn’t have it memorized: “Please state your name for the record.”
“Rose,” the girl in the video cleared her throat. “Rose Landry.”
“Miss Landry,” Misty started, “Do you understand your rights as I’ve explained them to you?”
“Y-yes,” she stuttered. “I do.”
“Why did you kill Adam Martin?” (yes, the name was so basic, Misty knew, she just wasn’t really focused on names when writing).
“What?” The girl in the video acted surprised. She sounded so guilty.“I..I didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t…” she hesitated. “I didn’t murder Adam—whoever. I didn’t murder anyone.”
Oh, wow! The Antler Queen was so good at this! Misty thought, growing more and more excited, nerves buzzing beneath her skin.
“But…what?” The video continued.
“Oops!” Misty quickly tapped the rewind button with her mouse.
She was so entranced by Rose’s acting that she nearly forgot her line!
“I never said he was murdered,” Misty continued, really taking in her detective persona.
“But…what? You said someone killed him.”
“So, how was the sex?” Misty said, “Mindblowing or just like really, really hot.”
“What kind of question is that?”
“Oh, so he couldn’t get it up, huh? Is that why you murdered him?”
“Okay, so, I think we’re done here.”
Rose got ready to get up—just like Misty had written in the script!
“Oh, but we’re just getting started,” Misty said, trying to lower her high-pitched voice as much as she could to sound scary.
Rose slowly began to sit back down, and GOSH, Misty really wished she could see more of her face. Ugh, but her jawline was so attractive, she wouldn’t lie.
“What if I want my lawyer?”
“You should always ask for your lawyer,” Misty chuckled, “but most prefer my methods.”
“And what are your methods?”
Misty smiled. She couldn’t help it. The question had been delivered exactly the way she imagined when she wrote the script; Rose sounding defiant and a little breathless, like the suspect was trying very hard not to show she was aroused.
“Oh,” Misty said, leaning closer to the screen as if Rose could somehow see her. Feel her. “I have a few.”
In the video, Rose tilted her head slightly. Gosh, she was good at this. Misty watched the slow movement of her throat when she swallowed, the way her fingers drummed against the table like she was thinking.
“Let me guess,” Rose said, a sensual bite to her tone. “You’re going to threaten me?”
Misty followed the next line on her printed script, her finger tracing the words as she read.
“Threats are messy,” she said, lowering her voice again. “People shut down when they feel cornered.”
Rose bit her bottom lip, leaning over the desk. “Oh?”
Misty’s heart fluttered a little. She loved that Rose added her own touches.
“So what do you do instead?” Rose asked.
Misty leaned closer to the screen.
“I make people comfortable,” she said slowly. “I let them think they’re in control. And then…they start telling me things.”
In the video, Rose shifted in her chair.
“And when that doesn’t work?” Rose asked, voice a low purr.
Misty paused for dramatic effect, just like she’d written.
“Well,” she murmured, smiling a little too brightly at the screen, “then I start getting creative.”
Rose’s eyes narrowed slightly, playing along.
“Creative how—oh…” Rose trailed off, her voice losing its edge, slowly dipping into pleasure.
In the script, Misty wrote, “I start touching you from under the table.”
Misty bounced her leg up and down from the excitement that overwhelmed her as Rose bit her lip, suppressing a moan.
In the video, Misty could see Rose’s arm moving. She was really touching herself under the table! It was so hot…
“Do you…” Rose started, breath ragged and panting. “Do you do this with all your suspects?”
“Just the ones I find pretty,” Misty said, removing her colorful sweater and tossing it over her shoulder.
“You’re not gonna fuck a confession out of me,” she said, going completely off script, making heat coil within Misty.
“We’ll see about that…” Misty said under her breath.
She didn’t pay five hundred dollars for nothing, after all.
In the video, the girl on camera leaned back in her chair, dark brown hair spilling down her shoulders as her hand worked faster.
Oh, if only the camera were propped up under the table…
“Oh, fuck…” Rose panted. “You’re really good with your hands, huh?”
For this part in the script, Misty had written “improvise,” with a little side note that said, “but please praise me, beg me, and make yourself desperate for me,” with a tiny heart next to it.
As the girl on screen played with herself, Misty reached behind her to unclip her bra, tossing it haphazardly across her dorm room before starting to fondle her own breasts.
“Mmmh, yes…” Rose moaned. “Please keep t-touching me like that.”
Misty didn’t bother stifling her own moan as she squeezed her breasts, pinching at her nipples.
“You like that?” Misty said, as if the girl in her laptop could hear her. Saying the words out loud made the moment feel even more erotic.
Suddenly, Rose stood up, pulling down her already unbuttoned jeans. Misty licked her lips as pale, bare legs were revealed to her. The girl made a wonderful show of removing her clothes, making Misty wetter by the second.
“You like watching me undress?” Rose asked, and Misty nodded frantically. “I knew all cops were crooked, but not like this. Still think you can get that confession out of me?”
“Y-yes,” Misty panted, twisting one of her nipples.
When Rose sat back down in her chair, Misty could see her perfect tits. And when she pushed the chair back, Misty got a full view of her beautiful body—though her face was now fully blurred out. Such a shame.
“Fuck, your hands feel so good on me,” Rose said breathlessly, caressing her tits with one hand while the other roamed her body. “Are you going to use me until you get what you want?”
Misty nodded, barely able to speak through the pleasure of touching herself, her hand trailing down her body before slipping beneath her shorts.
“Then use me. Use me however you want, please…”
Wow, she was so good. This mystery girl was making her feel things she hadn’t felt in a while. And when Misty slipped her hand beneath her panties, she was already soaking wet.
Almost like Rose could see her through the screen, she propped one leg up on the chair, spreading herself wider as she plunged her fingers deep inside herself.
“Fuck!” she whined, biting her knuckle. “You’re making me feel so good, but the other cops might hear you fucking me, aren’t you worried—”
Rose’s sentence broke around a sob of pleasure as she quickened her pace.
“—Okay, guess not!”
Gosh, it was like The Antler Queen could read her mind. If Misty were actually there, she wouldn’t care who heard; she’d keep fucking her regardless.
Misty’s fingers rubbed tight circles around her swollen clit, making her whimper and squirm in her desk chair.
In the video, Rose quickly pulled her fingers out of herself, now slowly rubbing her clit, making her whine.
“Don’t tease me, please. I need you.”
Could Misty tip on OnlyFans after receiving a video? Because The Antler Queen was doing exactly what her script said; beg, make yourself desperate for me.
“Please fuck me,” she whined. “Please put your fingers in me again…”
When Rose entered herself again, her whimpers and moans grew louder and louder, only making Misty’s fingers quicken around her clit, heat building in her chest.
“Yeah, take my fingers, you dirty criminal,” Misty huffed.
She was really close.
“T-thank you,” Rose rambled as she fucked herself. “Please don’t stop…”
“Oh shit!” Misty squealed, body trembling at the suddenness of her orgasm.
Misty lay back in her chair, her body going limp as she panted. After a moment, she paused the video and swiped her mouse back and forth across the timeline to see how much longer it was.
“Oh…”
Misty had barely made a dent in it. She did request a forty-minute-long video. She was sure she could last the entire time!
Oh, well. Now she had something to look forward to after she finished her nursing classes.
Although now…
She was deeply tempted to find out who this “Rose Landry” was.
***
Shauna sent the video to africangrey and slammed her laptop shut, burying her face in her hands.
“Jesus Christ, that took forever,” she groaned, rubbing at her eyes. “She’d better like the video and never request something that long ever again.”
Now, time to relax—
Well that lasted all of three seconds before the front door opened.
“Shauna! I’m home!” Jackie’s voice rang through the apartment, bright and effortless like it always was.
Shauna’s stomach dropped.
Shit.
She hadn’t taken down the sheet or fixed the desk; there was no time for that now.
She moved fast, snapping the laptop closed completely and shoving it under her pillow and clicked the lamp on her bedside table off, leaving her in complete darkness.
Her heart hammered while she scrambled under the covers, yanking them up to her chin.
She hoped and prayed Jackie wouldn’t come in if she thought she was asleep.
And if she were honest, coming up with a quick lie for the “new” set up in her room was easier than saying hello to her.
And much easier than looking at Jackie and remembering the million different things she wanted to say…and the one thing she absolutely couldn’t.
A pair of footsteps padded down the hallway, then stopped outside Shauna’s door.
“Shauna?” Jackie called gently, followed by a soft knock.
Shauna didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Didn’t answer.
“Okay,” Jackie murmured after a moment. “Guess you’re asleep.”
Her footsteps drifted down the hall, but Shauna stayed frozen under the covers for several more seconds, listening to Jackie move around the apartment.
Then she opened her eyes and stared up at the dark ceiling, wondering when Jackie stopped being the person she could talk to about anything.