TheRedHarlotYBF

24 yes, here to right about Creepypasta and other dark stuff. Check out my main blog if you want. https://www.tumblr.com/sassysaxsolo?source=share

[theredharlotybf]

Someone needs to tell the creator of the false sun to create a PATREON!!!! Cause I know they got this app called Telegram and this whole other space where you can see all the nsfw art of Silas on there!!!!

But its all in russian 😭😭😭😭

I just feel like patreon would make it easier to access for alot of people!!!

[linkazaron]

The Chain reacts to a reader who always wears a mask on her face. The reason for this is because she has been cursed with a love spell, anyone who sees her face will become obsessed with her and its put her in many undesirable situations where she was forced to fight for her life and protect herself through any means nessacary.

If she comes across someone weak of will, she can order them to do whatever horrendous act she wants of them to do (but obviously she wouldn't do it unless it were a life or death situation)

And maybe a senario where they either help her break the curse or they accidently see her face?

Hello! What an interesting concept! I think I’ll have the Chain try to break her curse, but they unfortunately see her face, which results in them getting obsessed with her. My askbox is always open for Linked Universe x Reader and LU drawing requests!

Anyways, onto the story!

This Is Not Something to Obsess Over!

Once Y/N was felt like she was a suitable age for it, she pursued dating. The first person she ended up dating was a mage. He had seemed nice and sweet on the outside. He’d give her thoughtful gifts and take her out for nice dates. But on the inside, he was a hot tempered control freak.

He liked to drink often, which resulted in his ugly side coming out. He’d yell at Y/N and ordered her around. After too many close calls where he almost hit her during his drunken fits of rage, Y/N decided she had enough. She was as polite as she could be when she mentioned that she wanted to break up. He did not take it well at all.

It was the first time she had seen him mad outside of being mad because of being drunk. He screamed and threw his spell books around. He then found his only dark magic tome. He almost chuckled out loud at that thought of cursing her for deciding to break up with him. He knew just the spell! He flicked through the pages for the one he was looking, and then he found it.

He chanted the incantation for the spell. “Dessesbo emoceb lliw ecaf ruoy ta skool ohw enoyna!”

He then thrust out his hand and a puff of black powder puffed out as a cloud, like someone being clumsy with makeup. It flew into Y/N’s face, making her cough and sneeze. It didn’t seem to do anything except make her face tingle briefly. The mage had forgotten the fatal side effect that the spell had on the caster. He started frothing at the mouth, then choking on the foaming liquid, his eyes rolled up to his head. He choked one last time, and collapsed onto the floor, dead.

Safe to say, Y/N ran out of the house, crying and screaming in terror.

…

For a while, Y/N had shut herself into her house. She never responded to door knocks and she went out in once in a blue moon to get food supplies. Around nine months after that terrible accident with her previous boyfriend, she felt that she had recovered enough to be willing to try dating again. She noticed upon being social again, people would kind of ogle her face with a strange expression. She brushed it off, some people weren’t subtle with how they stared at attractive people.

She started hitting it off with a handsome man who liked to make funny jokes to make people smile. She noticed he had the habit of suddenly staring at her and going oddly quiet in the middle of a conversation. A little weird, but Y/N just assumed he couldn’t help himself but to stare at her pretty face. The oddness amped up drastically when they went on their first date. The date had been going smoothly for most of the evening.

After paying for their meals, they prepared to leave. The man she was dating suddenly gripped her wrist tightly and pulled her back. He gave a chaste kiss on the back of her hand and then looked at her with a weird expression. His face was oddly stiff and his eyes seemed unfocused with his pupils very dilated. He took in a shaky breath and gulped with a blush on his face.

“Uh, are you okay?” Y/N asked with a concerned lilt to her words.

“Y-you… yOu LoOk So KiSsAbLe!” he replied, his tone suddenly manic.

Without any further warning, he crashed his lips into Y/N’s very passionately. She tried to back away and fight him off, but he’d chase after her lips. He finally stopped when he needed to breathe. He then backed away and came back to his senses, his face reverting back to normal.

“Oh my goodness, I don’t know what came over me! I’m so sorry, Miss Y/N!” he sputtered out.

Y/N gave him a well deserved slap to the face and told him that there won’t be another date. She stormed out of the nice restaurant in a huff. Once she got home, she flopped onto her bed with a dreary sigh. Maybe that guy just had a random bout of coming on too strong, but something about it felt off. With that uneasy thought, she fell asleep.

…

She woke up sometime later to a frightful discovery. The man she was with last night was in her bed! She bolted off of her bed with a scream. How did he get in here?!? She knew she’d locked the door before falling asleep.

He seemed completely unbothered by her reaction. He just looked up at her with hearts in his eyes. Something about the way it looked was wrong though. It looked a bit manic, like he was obsessed. Y/N felt that she was in serious danger.

She opened her front door and screamed for help. The town guards came running and pulled the man out of her house. They didn’t ask her questions, they saw her scared expression and the obsessive expression the man had. He tried to fight the guards off, but he was overpowered by them. He begged and begged to not be taken away from his love. One of the guards gagged him so he’d be impossible to understand.

Y/N didn’t shut her door until she couldn’t hear the man or the guards anymore. She shut her door and leaned against it with a shaky breath. What the heck just happened? Y/N didn’t understand why he went from zero to a hundred over the course of a few days. One thing she did know, was that she’d need to move to a new place.

…

She repeated the same process that she done after her first boyfriend’s death, hiding away from the world as much as she could for many months. Then she pursued dating again once she felt like she’d healed enough. But what happened with her previous boyfriend happened again. They’d start off fine and then the man she was dating would suddenly get obsessed with her. It was happening more times than she could count.

She had to get to the bottom of this. One day, it dawned on her on what was causing this. That’s right, her first boyfriend had inflicted her with a curse! She remembered the incantation and wrote it down. An instinct told her to write it again, but in reverse letter order.

‘Anyone who looks at your face will become obsessed.’ That was what the curse was. Anyone looks at her face too long becomes madly obsessed with her. But how would she break it? One thing she knew for sure; she’d need to wear a mask from now on.

…

Lately, there had been a strange uptick in monster population. They were also more aggressive and harder to kill. Strange… Wasn’t it supposed to be a time of peace? Monsters had been rarely seen for years. With this, Y/N discovered that there was a secondary part of her curse.

If someone or something was weak minded, she had control over their actions by merely telling them what to do. It was very effective on pretty much any monster. She could tell a monster to bonk itself on the head with its own club, and it would do it. They’d even jump off a cliff to their doom when she told them too. This unfortunately worked on humans too, even if she wasn’t serious about it. She actually caused a few unintentional deaths, much to her dismay.

…

Wearing a mask really helped her a lot with interacting with people. Nobody could get obsessed with her because her face wasn’t visible in any form through the mask. It even got people to leave her alone. They were a bit startled by its appearance, making people uneasy. It even intimidated weak monsters too.

With the secondary effect of her curse, she was able to protect villages and travelers from monsters. She didn’t even need to fight, words were enough. Though this part of her curse was useful, she wished she could get rid of her curse entirely. She’s had no luck in finding a cure, she could only find how to cast the spell. She really hoped that she’d find someone who could help her without falling victim to obsession or being controlled by her words from being too weak willed.

…

She came across a group of nine heroes traveling throughout the land, taking care of the sudden increase of this new monster variety. She’d heard tales and rumors about them recently. They seemed like a group of strong willed people. They might be able to help her cure her curse! She just has to make sure that they never see her face…

Being the heroes they are, when they heard her plight, they were immediately willing to help. They tried using magic spells that they knew and magical tools that they had, but none of them worked. Not at all deterred, they asked around villages and towns for a cure. They made sure to ask mages and elders. But nobody knew how to cure it.

For their last desperate effort, they hoped praying to Hylia would work. They all marched to the nearest temple of Hylia. Unfortunately on their way there, a horde of monsters came to attack them. It was a grueling fight the entire time even with Y/N trying to help.

At one point, a monster swung its sword at her face. She thought she’d had dodged quickly enough, but the sword cleaved the mask in half. To her ears, the clatter of the two halves of the mask sounded loud to her. Before she could pick up the broken mask, another monster stepped on the remains, cracking it to the point she wouldn’t be able to repair it. Oh gods, the Links were going to see her face.

Eventually all the monsters were defeated. Y/N quickly pulled her hood over her face.

“Time, I need one of your masks now. Preferably one that covers my entire face.” Y/N asked firmly.

He noticed that she’d lost her mask, seeing its shattered remains on the ground. He dug around in one of his bags for a suitable mask. He found the Keaton’s Mask. It covered his entire face, so it’d work for her. He offered it to her, not looking at her.

She took it gratefully and quickly turned around. With some minor adjusting, she managed to get it to stay on her face. Minor crisis adverted! Though she wished that Time hadn’t given her one of his cute looking masks… And so they all continued their trek to the one of the temples of Hylia.

They thought they were going to make it to the temple without any more setbacks, but fate had other plans. The mask that Time had given Y/N didn’t have the best eyeholes, so it was hard for her to see. She tripped on a big tree root, falling down with enough force that the mask slipped off. She groaned in pain and tried to pick the mask back up, but her arm and hand were in too much pain to move. She felt a pair of buff arms gently scoop her up, and when she felt something soft, she knew it had been Twilight that picked her up.

“Ya okay? Tha’ looked like a nasty fall. I can carry ya the rest of the way.” he asked, his voice filled with adorable concern that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“The…mask…” she groaned.

“Ah, right. Ya still need that until we get ya cured.” he replied softly.

Twilight bent down to pick it up, still effortlessly holding Y/N. He straightened back up, mask now in hand. He accidentally made eye contact with her while helping her put the mask on. She quickly turned away her face away, hoping that a mere glance didn’t make Twilight start becoming obsessed with her. But fate wasn’t done being cruel to her yet.

“Hey, don’t turn yer pretty face away! I finally get ta see it! Ya don’t need ta hide from me! Don’t ya trust me, darlin’?” he whined, obsession clear in his voice.

He hasn’t done anything crazy yet, but she needs to get out of his grip before it gets worse! She had no luck, Twilight was a beefcake powerhouse. So she screamed for the others to help her. But that wasn’t a good idea because it made everyone look at her face. Now the entire Chain was obsessed with her.

…

She was ever so slightly thankful that they still treated her nicely despite their minds being addled because of her curse. They still respected her boundaries, even if they wanted to kiss and hug her senseless. They let her wander away from them and talk to others. But that didn’t mean that they weren’t extremely overprotective of her because of them being obsessed with her. She assumed that they hadn’t completely become obsessed monsters because they were the chosen heroes of legend.

She did wish she had a leash to rein them in. They’d buy her anything and everything. If she looked at something for more than a few seconds, it’d be bought, even if she didn’t actually want it and even if it was something impractical.

She’s actually had to stop them from killing someone more than once. Since their minds were now weaker because of their obsession over her, they follow her words without question or hesitation. Some random civilian was heckling her about why she was wearing a mask and hiding her face.

She wasn’t being serious when she said it, but… “Ugh, can someone stab this guy for me?”

Time drew his Gilded Sword from its scabbard without any question or hesitation. He marched over threateningly, about to stab this innocent man that was just only being mildly annoying. Y/N barely stopped him in time, catching his wrist as the sword’s tip was just a millimeter away from making contact. She got him to stop by telling him that she’d give him a kiss later for protecting her. But the man that was heckling her did leave her alone, running away as fast as he could.

Despite not getting her curse cured, a small part of herself that was becoming a big part of herself, she oddly didn’t mind having an obsessed group of heroes at her beck and call…

The End!

This got much longer than I had anticipated it to be, but I hope you liked it! Again, my askbox is always open for LU x Reader and LU drawing requests!

[theredharlotybf]

Compulsive Rumination (Teaser)

Pairing: Jeff the Killer x Reader.

Synopsis: They say that the very definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again while expecting a different result. Does it still count as insanity while staying trapped in the limbo of damnation knowing nothing you say or do will change anything? Probably not, but even so, you have to give it a shot.

TW: Murder, stalking, blood, violence, non-con, dubious consent, alcohol, mental illness, pregnancy. Controlling/obsessive behaviour, drug use

The sound of the cicadas song danced in the air, birds chirped from their nests high up in the tree forest, mice scattered through the long grass, in the distance was a pond filled with clear water sparkling from the setting sun.

By the pond was a wounded male elk, a limp in his leg from a bullet wound. It thought it was safe before bending its neck to drink some of its cool refreshing water.

The hunter allowed the creature one last moment of reprieve, a second of peace, allowing him to think he was finally safe and relaxed. When the creature had lifted its head.

*BANG!*

The creature fell down, a bullet through the side of the head- no pain, no fear. Clean and instant, the hunter only wished she had gotten it right the first time.

“Finally..” You huffed, putting your rifle over your shoulder before approaching the dear. Its eyes are cold. You had been tracking the deer for days now, finally it was in your possession. You had tied up its legs before carrying it to your truck. After carefully setting it in the back, you got in the driver’s seat and began your journey home….. If you could call it home.

“What time is it…?” You muttered as you opened the glove compartment, finding your phone. One of your number one principals, when hunting, leave the phone behind and you were glad you did. Once you turned it on, you were met with ninety nine plus missed calls and over ninety nine plus messages. “Does he ever get the fucking hint…?” You muttered. 

He knew better than to try to call you when you were hunting, you knew better to call him when he was out. The term ‘common courtesy’ didn’t exist in his vocabulary.

You rolled your eyes before turning on the radio.

“This just in, over the course of the week, five families all found dead in their homes in salt lake county. Police believe it to be the work of the ever infamous Smiling Sleeper, known for killing his victims while they lay in bed and forgive me folks- carving a smile into their faces.”

You switched the channel, maroon five began to play. Better this than listening to that crap on the radio.

“I am in misery, there ain’t nobody who can comfort me, oh-yeah. Why won’t you answer me? The silence is slowly killing me, oh yeah.” You sang as you drove through the forest and down a dirt road.

.

.

.

‘Home sweet home’ you thought as you pulled up to the house, you saw some lights on in the house, usually never a good sign. 

You parked your truck up to the shed where you retrieved the deer, you dragged him inside the shed. You placed him on the table and rolled up your sleeves. You started by cutting the creature from chest to sternum before reaching inside, and using the knife to cut away its internal organs. Grabbing them all in both hands, you dumped them inside a bucket.

Your hands bloody, you wiped them with a cloth before hanging the creature from its back legs and letting its carcass bleed out. His body would be ready in the morning, for now- it was time for a shower and bed.

As you approached your back door, you could already hear the screams, the sounds of thrashing and furniture moving. You entered the house, the kitchen was a damn mess.

“SOMEONE HELP ME! HELP ME!!!” The shrill of a voice screamed, a young woman burst out from around the corner, her eyes landing on you. Her eyes filled with hope. “Please help me! He’s going to kill me, please!” She screamed.

She was pretty. Lovely gold hair, blue eyes and a slim figure. She was wearing a cheerleader’s uniform that had been torn and bloodied, her bow which was originally blue was now a black purplish colour. Her cheeks that might have been a lovely red were now as pale as the ivory, her lips were dry and cracked, her voice was raspy and hurt from screaming.

She rushed over to you, clung to you. You held her close to you as the sounds of footsteps ascended from the basement.

“Oh Tammy- where did Tammy go~? Hehehehehe!” 

She looked up at you, tears in her eyes. “We have to run- he’ll kill us both!” 

“Don’t worry.” You say, your voice comforting to the girl, a small smile on your face. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore, I promise.” You pulled her in for another hug, her shivering seemed to ease.

“Thank you! Thank you so much-”

*crack!*

It was quick and easy, she didn’t notice your hands creeping up to her neck. She didn’t see it coming, you snapping her neck- the life fading from her quickly as you catch her. “I’m sorry…” You muttered as you laid her down on the floor, and at that moment, it looked as if she were only sleeping.

“Babe!” Growled a voice, you looked over at the entrance of the kitchen and there he was. Standing over you at six feet and four inches tall, his shaggy strands of black hair covering half his face, his scarred mouth twisted into a sneer as a single eye peeked out from behind his hair- dilated ice blue eyes that stared down at you with rage. “You stupid bitch- why did you do that for?!” he yelled, rushing over to you, shaking you around as if you were a sack of potatoes.

“Unlike you- I don’t enjoy cruelty, you sadistic prick. What did I say about keeping this shit OUT of our house!?” You roared back.

“You were gone for five days- what was I supposed to do?! Wait for you to get back?”

“I was stalking Jeff- I do this all the time! You don’t see me complaining when you go off to murder entire families- oh yeah. Speaking of which… five families in Salt Lake County? Are you trying to get caught?!” You yelled.

“You say you’re not complaining but that's what you're doing right now!” He shouted.

“All I’m saying is- you could be a little smarter next time Jeff!” You scoffed as you picked up the young girl’s body. "At least help me give her a proper burial? Torturing cheerleaders- that's exactly like you, you evil pig!” 

“Don’t be so jealous now- she doesn’t scream nearly as good as you~” Jeff snickered as he opened the door, helping you carry the girl outside.

This was your life, twenty one years old and living with a psychotic maniac, Jeff the Killer as he called himself. You were as normal as normal could be until this guy turned your life upside down. Now here you were, living with him for the past two years now, trying to survive and maintain some sense of peace in your life, but it ain’t easy since your boyfriend gets off murdering people.

And you use the word boyfriend…. Sparingly.

Your relationship with Jeff was a complicated one at that. This man had put you through a lot of traumatic shit- the seventeen year old you would never dare consider it…. Then again. You two kiss, hug, cuddle, watch movies, eat together, live together…. Fuck. On the rare occasions, you express words of love to each other.

But Jeff has a habit of trying your patience and crossing your boundaries, he gets you riled up and you have a habit of shooting homicidal maniacs who piss you off.

Some might say- why stay with him? Why not just run away and live a new life without him in it?

In truth… you had no one else. Your family was gone, you had spent two years on the run- running from and breaking whatever laws necessary to evade him. You had nothing and no one and Jeff was the only one you can turn to, the only one who wouldn’t abandon you….

The very thought makes you sick. And while you don’t actively condone your ‘lover’s sick appetite for dissection and torture, you don’t care what he does as long as you don’t have to see it. The girl, what was her name? Tammy? You felt bad for her, truly- but you knew first hand that there was no escaping Jeff. You just live on borrowed time and if he doesn’t kill you today, he’ll do it tomorrow or next week.

And sure- you could rebel against Jeff, shoot him down and give her time to escape- but you weren’t safe from his cruel machinations either and Tammy…. You think that was her name. She never had a chance and while you didn’t care about Jeff’s sadistic habits, you didn’t want to stand by and let an innocent girl suffer, knowing you did something. So, you had given her a quick and easy death.

Jeff can’t hurt her anymore and sooner or later, you’ll be the one to pay for it.

You laid down the girl’s body as Jeff got to work digging the hole, you had a torch lit as the serial made quick work of it. “You sure you don’t wanna step in and help…?!” He yelled.

“Not my victim, not my problem.” You responded.

“Says the one who snapped her neck- technically she’s your victim, not mine.”

“Techinally? You kidnapped a girl, put her in our basement- tortured for god knows how long and knowing you, let her loose so you could play chase with her. I may have killed her but you were the one who hurt her.”

“Oh my fuck- can you stop being such a stuck up cunt for once and help me bury this body?!” he yelled. You rolled your eyes before grabbing the spare shovel. You could say no but there was always the possibility Jeff could say fuck it- ditch the shovel and leave you to do the rest. He wouldn’t even care about burying the bodies unless you demanded it.

You once came home to a pile of corpses so mangled and disfigured- it had traumatised you more than you already were and refused to come home until Jeff cleaned it up.

He burned them, leaving behind ash and bones and that you had to dispose of yourself in case you had visitors. And when you say visitors, just the mail man and that was about it- you could only count your blessings that Jeff slept until twelve in the afternoon everyday without fail, leaving you undisturbed in the mornings to get the mail and go about your business without Jeff killing someone.

“Alright, done!” Jeff huffed.

“Wait!” you demanded, taking some measuring tape you used for occasions like this and measuring the depth. “Yup…. at least six feet…!” You gasped, already sweating from that work out.

Jeff climbed out of the hole and pushed Tammy into the hole, you managed to catch her before her body plummeted “JEFF!” You roared.

“What?! She's already dead!” He yelled back.

You lay her down on the ground carefully. “Sheet!” You yelled. Jeff casually tossed you an old sheet that you brought with you before wrapping it around her body. You didn’t know the girl but she at least deserved some modicum of respect. Jeff pulled you from the hole before you continued, shoveling the soil onto the silhouette behind the old sheet until the ground was solid and even.

“Well, I’m gonna take a shower- wanna join me-

“No.”

“Fine, fuck you then.” He sneered before marching back to the house. There were days where you could handle him….. Days where you could even enjoy his company…. But there were days like today you really couldn’t fucking stand him.

You went back inside the house- you could smell the blood in the air, a trail led into the kitchen from the basement where Tammy ran. You closed the basement door and opened a few windows. You climbed the stairs and made it to your room where you shed all your clothes, tossed them in the laundry basket and headed inside your bathroom.

It was just the shower you needed anyways, turned the tap on, warm water sprinkled from the shower head and you let it drench you, let yourself get soaked in the water. You looked down, seeing all the blood, sweat, dirt and grime wash away from your body and down the drain. You leaned your head against the tiled wall, letting yourself ease up.

In truth, you hadn’t been feeling well at all during the week. You thought it was a bug from some take out Jeff brought home- you thought it would go away once you went stalking where you were surrounded by nothing but fresh air and wild life.

It didn’t but you puked less when all you ate was canned soup and some Bauerwurst sausage.

You would need some proper food soon.

“Babe.” 

You didn’t hear him come in. Suddenly the shower curtain was drawn open and there Jeff was, staring down at you with malicious intent. “No Jeff- not now… please!” You backed up against the wall as Jeff stepped inside, naked on the day he was born. The killer stood over you, placing hands on either side of your head, letting the water soak him to. 

“I could listen to you…. But I just figured- you’ll be choking on my dick again eventually- why delay the inevitable?”

“Please Jeff- I’m really tired… I’m sorry I killed that girl-”

“Shut up~! Shut the fuck up~” He sang, grabbing your jaw with one hand while lowering the other one to make contact with the tap, turning it to make it hotter and hotter, just the way he liked it. “Sometimes, I forget I let you have too much control, y’know? You're sooooo cute when you think you’re in charge.” He cackled before squeezing your jaw tighter.

“Jeff! Please!” You groaned in pain- the hot water turning your shoulders red, his clenched fingers hurting your jaw.

“You know what- I might just forgive you. Just this one…. But you see the thing is… I haven’t had a taste from you in days…. You know what to do~” He grinned, the horrible grin, the first thing you saw the first day you met him. He lowered himself, crouching down till he was facing your cunt, he crudely pressed his nose into your bush, making you shiver. “Jeff- I haven’t shaved.”

“You really think I give a fuck if your pussy is bald or not? Come on- lift your leg!” He yelled.

It's just sex.

It's just sex…

That’s all it was….

You lifted your leg, giving the killer better access to your cunt. His tongue stretched out as he used his fingers to pull back your folds. “Hell yeah, now this is what I’m talking about~!” 

You felt the slimy appendage slip into your folds, a thumb pressing against your special button. Your head fell against the tiled wall as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, a moan leaving your throat.

You had spent five days out in the wild, tracking that deer. Sleeping rough, always on edge, keeping your wits about you. This was simply your body responding positively to the pleasure after days of exhaustion.

“God baby, you taste so fucking good~” He chuckled darkly as his tongue lashed at the inside of your cunny, the water seeming not  hot as you grabbed the edges of the tiled wall. “Jeff…! Jeff!” You moaned his name like you did hundreds of times, you could feel something poke at your leg.

It washed over you core, washed over your shoulders, all you could have was that magnificent tongue that was currently bringing you to heel. Your fingers soon found their way to his messy black hair, slowly working his scalp in a smoothing way- letting him know that whatever he was doing, it was correct.

“Dirty girl, you dirty little girl~” He cackled as he slurped at the juices flowing from your cunt. The headache you had been experiencing since you had come home suddenly began to fade, Jeff always knew how to touch you, how to make you tick. You were almost ashamed to say that this man was your first, you wish he wasn’t, after everything he has done. You wished you had a sweet romance with one of the boys from your old school, but after being Jeff’s for so long, you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else and that made you sick.

“Turn around whore.” He huffed, standing up and making you face the wall, your tits pressing against the cold tiled wall as you felt something large and sticky press against your back. “You feel that cunt? Feel that- thats how fucking hard you make me you stupid slut. You had me blue balling for a fucking week, now you gotta take responsibility-”

“Shut up and put your dick inside me already!” You yelled, looking back at him.

*slap!*

You moaned at his large leathery hand made contact with your ass, the tip of his hot cock gliding between your soft fleshy folds before sliding inside you with ease. “Oh… baby!” He cackled, his hands grabbing at your hips before he pulled back his own and plowed inside you with an unyielding and unrelenting pattern of thrusts that made you see stars. “Jeff! Jeff! JEFF!” You cried.

“That's right baby- that's right! Scream my name, scream my fucking name- I wanna here you say it while you cum.” He cackled.

It was soooooo good. His hot big cock felt so good inside you. Pressed up against the cold tiled wall while hot water rained down from above and the giant meaty

.

.

You opened the fridge and as you guessed, not a lot inside.

“Guess I’m going grocery shopping tomorrow…” You muttered as you took out the remainder of the eggs, your leftover avocado spread and the milk. You check the pantry for bread and thankfully, half a pan was left.

With what you had, you made some scrambled egg and toast.

“Jeff! You finished cleaning?!” You yelled. He did not look pleased as he came into the kitchen, wearing baggy pants, socks and slides. “What do you think?” He muttered, a bucket of bloody water in one hand and the mop in the other. As you laid the table, he went outside and dumped the bloody water. You were also lucky enough to find some chamomile tea at the back of the cupboard. Jeff cared less about tea, juice and water, more on soda’s energy drinks and coffee. It was a wonder that Jeff was as fit as he was now. While you made your tea, Jeff just grabbed a can of monster from the fridge and sat down at the table.

“You couldn’t have made any bacon..? There's bacon in the fridge!” 

“Yes, there is.” You muttered, taking out the open pack of bacon, not properly wrapped up and three days past the expiration date. “Do you seriously not look at the expiration date Jeff? You should have eaten it all before I left.”

“Pfft, whatever.” He huffed as you threw away the bacon and sat down at the table. Jeff didn’t seem pleased by the spread before him but knew he had little choice in the matter. This was a preferred breakfast for you, easy and quick to make. Spread the avocado on the toast before topping it with the scrambled eggs. You could have made poached eggs or fried eggs but you were tired and those  required a lot of work and focus to make.

“So……….” Jeff muttered awkwardly, it wasn’t uncommon for you two to sit together for meals- it gave your life a sense of normalcy but that and Jeff was a very strange combination. He was a man who rejected normalcy at all costs and yet if it meant neither you or him were at each other’s throats for once, he could stomach it. “How was… the stalking..?”

“It went well. I missed my shot, went into his thigh and he got away, it took me two days to track him down. Once he’s been bled, I’m gonna hand him over to the butchers in town. It’ll make us some good money that I expect to last.” You noted, giving him a look.

“You know I don’t mess around with money- besides, I want something, I take it.” he huffed.

“Yeah.. I’ll leave in the morning. Do you think you could just write me a list of what you need and I’ll take care of it?”

“You do so love to play my errand girl, don’t you?” He snickered.

“Yes, I actually do. Another opportunity to be away from you.” You smiled.

“Whatever- you love my dick and you know it.” 

“I won’t even dignify that with an answer.” 

Of course, washing up was left to you, no surprise there. Once you were done washing the dishes and leaving them to dry, you headed back upstairs to your room. You took your hair out of the towel you left it in before running some hair oil in it and using a hairdryer. You would have liked to have read your book sitting on the nightstand, but such things would have to wait until tomorrow.

Besides, you didn’t have the mindset to be reading.

As soon as your hair was fully dried, you changed into your pajamas and turned off your lights. Just as you got settled in bed, your bedroom door opened, revealing Jeff, eye mask over his head as he saundered in. “Jeff.” You moaned, “You have your own bed.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not in it.” He reiterated, pulling back your covers and hopping inside. He crudely pulled you against him, your face planting against his chest. “Besides- you miss me too, don’t you?” He smirked.

“Goodnight, Jeff.” You muttered, succumbing to Jeff’s cuddles.

“Love you dollface.” he muttered.

“I love you too…..” You replied.

.

.

.

“I need more makeup…” You muttered as you used up the last of your concealer to cover up the hickies Jeff had left on your neck. The deer had been successfully bled through, skinned and gutted. Now you were dressed, some boot cut jeans, a dark red henley top, some ankle boots and your purse. You prettied yourself up before leaving the house, people in the nearby town know you as the young wife living on the outskirts with your husband who’s always working.

You grabbed the keys to the truck and the wedding ring. You only ever wore it when you went into town.

You hopped into the truck and drove into the town while making a mental checklist of what you needed to do.  Your first stop was the butcher shop where you handed your game over to the owner, Keith. He always gave you a good price for your game. Once you had your cash, you then went to the supermarket, restocking on what you needed. Groceries, toiletries and cleaning products…. Your final stop.

The pharmacy.

Your nerves began to play at you as you exited the car and walked inside the store. There were elderly inside the store, at the reception to get their prescription meds. You went over to the women’s health section, your eyes landing on the very object that has been causing you dread all week.

Pregnancy tests.

You weren’t stupid but you certainly felt stupid. You’ve been letting Jeff hit it raw for a while now, everytime you asked to use protection, he would bitch and moan and it was always a losing game when it came to Jeff so you stopped asking. Now you think you should have been more persistent. You felt the sickness two weeks ago- you chalked it up to a bug and figured some time away from the house and a week in the wilderness would put you back in good spirits.

But you were still vomiting, strange bouts of fatigue, the very same that caused you to miss that first shot on the deer and the biggest sign, your period was due last week but it never came, you simply thought you were late but after a week it still wasn’t there.

You took a box of three tests and picked up some more makeup before you headed over to the register. It felt awkward, waiting in line. It was such a normal thing to do and yet you lived such an abnormal lifestyle.

“Oh- my, my. You look a bit young to be having babies…!” Said a nosy Granny beside you, loud enough for everyone to look behind to see you. Play it off, play it off-

“Well- my husband wants a big family, y’know! Better to start now then later.” You laughed it off, making sure your wedding ring was visible for those nosy bastards to see. The granny began to laugh too. “Aw, I was just your age when I had my first child. I was worried- not alot of youngin’s have families anymore. We need more families in this town.”

“Yeah- we’re really excited…!” You smiled.

Nosy old bitch, why don’t these old people ever mind their damn business?!

As soon as your items were bagged, you were in a hurry to get out the door. But as soon as you got outside, a body knocked into you, making you drop your bag, a lot of your stuff falling out. “Shit!”

“Oh no! I am so sorry!” A male voice cried as you both bent down to pick up your stuff. “I am so sorry, miss!” 

“It’s fine… I wasn’t looking where I was going.” You muttered, as he took your box of pregnancy tests hesitantly- “Oh.. um..”

“That's… mine..” You muttered, taking them from him slowly as you looked up to see him. It was already bad that so many people saw you with pregnancy tests and now people were gonna start talking- but this guy in front of you now…. Was very handsome! He had dark brown hair that was a tad bit messy like he had been in a hurry, these lovely green eyes, a bright kelly green. He wore a leather jacket over a grey shirt and some denim jeans.  “I am so sorry!” He exclaimed, handing you the rest of your belongings.

“That was rude of me- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable- I- I should leave- I’m sorry.” he blushed before hurrying on his way.

The encounter left you feeling confused but what else could you do?

You hurried back over to your truck and extracted three cans of red bull, opening each one and downing it. You must pee, you need to pee. You looked at the directions on the box. “Pee on stick… wait three minutes… one line is negative…. Two is positive..” You let your head fall back, dropping the box as your fists pounded the wheel. “SHIT!” 

By the time you arrived back home, your need to pee was great and in full effect- first… check on the sleeping killer in your bed.

You hurried upstairs and looked inside your bedroom, Jeff hasn’t moved an inch, he’s never up before two.

You headed inside your bathroom and began the process, each stick got a healthy dosing of urine before you set each on the counter and set the time. Your eyes glued to your phone as you waited, sitting on the toilet as your foot tapped against the tiled floor, this had to be the longest three minutes of you entire life, this was fucked, everything was fucked. You dragged your fingers down your face, the anxiety eating at your chest, the nervousness chipping away at you so badly that you found yourself needing to use the bathroom again.

You wanted to think of something else but the weight of this test was absolutely killing you, you couldn’t take it anymore- even if the timer wasn’t up, your had to see-

“Huh….?” you muttered.

+

On the test, was a cross sign, a big pink ridiculous cross sign. It slipped from your fingers and onto the tiled floor.

Maybe it was a false positive? False positives can always happen, right? Yeah, the other test should be ready now-

+

+

Your heart dropped to your stomach. 

You just sat there, looking at the two tests in your hand. There was no way that all three of them could be wrong. “Oh my god…” You cried, tears falling down your face.

“(Y/n)!” The bathroom door opened, Jeff rubbed the sleep from his eyes before taking a step back. “Are you taking a shit? Lock the door in future! I don’t wanna see you….”

 

His eyes trailed to the tests on the floor, his voice coming to a halt.

“Jeff….. We need to talk….”

[bked0n-amoxacillin]

Groupchat gone wild.

I hope u guys enjoy. I’m in nyc rn, on ft with my boyfriend and he was sleep talking. He then went, “I needa piss.” And fell back asleep so. Anyways!

[theredharlotybf]

THIS FUCKING KILLED ME I'M DYING!!!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂 LEGIT I CAN NOT STOP LAUGHING SOMEONE GET ME AN INHALER!!!

[pach1ko]

*Bendrowned core* (hc)👌❤️‍🔥✨️

[crazycometspecular]

Happy GDT Frankenstein (2025) streaming day ;)

[theredharlotybf]

Digital Dread (BEN drowned x Reader)

TW: Death, murder, voyarism, cyberstalking, haunting, hostage friendships, choking, violence, attempted sucides, paranormal activity

Synopsis: You thought it would be over once you helped but an end to the Diabolik Entity known as BEN, but now, his corrupted captive and now freed revenent, Ben has taken his cybernetic powers and turned his bloodied gaze towards you. His most beloved saviour.

AN: This is a part two of Digital Despondency! Sorry it took me a while so please enjoy this next part!

“Mmmmmhhhh…..”

You were sore, that's how you felt when your eyelids pried themselves open. “Ben…?” You muttered as you looked around the area. You were in your room, the smashed t.v. remained on stand where it always was, the door was closed and your body…?

“Ugh…!” You groaned as you sat up, your body ached like you had worked out the other day and your body was reaping the consequences. You looked down at yourself, you were still wearing your leggings and cami, your shoes were beside the bed, meaning someone took them off and tucked you into bed.

“This just in, thirty four year old man found dead in his apartment. Police say his girlfriend found him in his bathroom- drowned himself in his own toilet.”

The t.v. spoke loudly from downstairs, the volume high. You achingly tossed the covers from your body before slipping your shoes on and hurrying over to the door. “Ben…..!” You cried.

Last night did happen, the t.v. was evidence enough. After Ben caught you….. Your memories from that point on were a little foggy… but you remembered well enough Ben for feeding you his saliva. You leaned on the bannister, and carefully descended the stairs. Not wanting a repeat of what happened to you the other night.

“As police searched the man’s house- they found his computer still turned on. What they found was two terabytes worth of child pornography as well as links to other predators who may have been in connection.”

A man drowned himself in his own toilet…. And they find child porn on his computer? There other ways to kill yourself but drowing yourself in your toilet… who would actually drown themselves in a toilet when-

……when…..

“Ben….? Ben!” You looked around for the living virus who man handled you the other night, he couldn’t have gone far- or has he? What if he ditched you after getting your blood and is now on the run-

“In here~!”

Your head shot in the direction of the kitchen. The curtains were open and the sun shone through. The voice was a lot deeper than the voice of the little boy, a man in his early to mid twenties but you had a feeling Ben was a lot older than that.

“Ben….?” You muttered.

You entered the kitchen and there he was- at the kitchen table. A pan of bread opened as well as two jars. One peanut butter and the other strawberry preserve. One slice of bread was spread with strawberry preserve and the other with peanut butter. 

Ben sat there at the table, the bloodied eyed link slapped the two slices together before taking a bite out of the corner. His eyes rolled back as he slumped in his seat like he had just reached heaven. “Mmh Mmh! That is so good…. So good!” He moaned, food still in his mouth before swallowing it and taking another bite. You liked a PB and Jelly sandwich as much as the next person, but this…?

“Ben…… are you good…?” You muttered, standing by the kitchen archway. Too scared to approach. He looked in your direction and for a minute, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. He grinned, pulling out a chair for you. “(Y/n)! Come sit by me- lets eat some sandwiches” 

Despite everything in your system telling you to run- you knew the result would only be you getting caught again. And the last thing you wanted was to piss Ben off one more time. You quietly walked over to the seat Ben pulled out for you and sat down, he moved the jars towards you expectantly as he ate his sandwich constantly. You made yourself a sandwich, making you think about the last time you had a PB and Jelly sandwich.

“You know.” Ben started, gulping down his bite and licking his lips. “Now that I think about it- the last thing I ever ate was a PB and Jelly sandwich- but they didn’t come in separate jars like your brother’s- it came from the smuckers goober spread. I always hated that crap- but my mom would always get that to cut down on groceries and when I was trapped… I used to think to myself- if I ever get out of here- I would eat that crap spread again if it meant I could enjoy food again.” He smiled.

“How fortunate am I that I get to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich- no goober’s necessary..”

“I’m….. happy for you… Ben.” You smiled, some part of you was- but again. You were fucking terrified of him. You had another bite of your sandwich, slowly chewing it as Ben just stared at you with those terrifying eyes. The black sclera and the red iris, he looked like a demon possessed Link “Can I… ask you something, if it's not too much trouble?” You said hesitantly.

“For you, anything.” He beamed, leaning his face into his fist, staring down at you with almost puppy eyes- almost.

“BEN….. he corrupted you… didn’t he..?” You whimper- wondering if you were overstepping here.

And for a minute, Ben looked… hurt? “Screw him! He’s dead now. All of the moonchildren are gone now… nothing has changed.”

“But Ben- your eyes- your-.” You had to stop yourself from saying anything else.

“What? What!? So what if that bastard got in one last hit on me- I’m the one who’s free- he’s in hell where he belongs… he can’t interfere anymore…!” He yelled, shoving the rest of his sandwich into his mouth, chewing as quickly as he can and swallowing. “I’m still Ben! The one that got imprisoned for two decades! I’m free now and we should be celebrating- and you're just- your ruining it!” He yelled, standing up.

“NO! No Ben- I’m sorry!” You cried, grabbing hold of his hand- his warm hand. “I was just worried about you! That's all- I was worried that it wasn’t you- that it was BEN coming for me. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings!” You cried. At this point, you were just shitting out of your mouth. But the last thing you needed was Ben being hostile or aggressive towards you.

“Let me make it up to you, please? Tell me whatever it is you want and I’ll make it happen- I promise!” You put on your best smile, hoping to appease the virus.

“You mean it…. You’re not just saying that….?” he grumbled.

“Honest to god! Do you not trust me Ben…?” You asked, tugging at his heart strings because as far as you’re concerned, you were his only friend- sure you were scared but that didn’t mean you hadn’t the sense to act the part when needed. He looked down… all shyly. A blush on his cheeks as he tapped his foot.

“McDonalds…..” He muttered.

“What?” You murmured.

“I want McDonalds!” He yelled, not looking at you. “I used to love Mcdonalds… but…y’know. PB&J sandwiches are good…. But I really want McDonalds….”

“Well why didn’t you say that!?” You gasped heartily as you pulled out your phone. “Let me order some McDonalds for delivery and we can eat and….. Watch some movies…?” You murmured.

“You can get McDonalds delivered now..?!” He gasped

“Yeah…! Delivery became super big after the pandemic.” You responded.

“Pandemic? What pandemic….?” He asked. Oh boy were you gonna have to fill this virus in. “I’ll explain later… what do you want?” 

“Chicken nugget happy meal!” He demanded.

“Do you want a toy… or a booklet…?”

“I don’t care about that! I just want some nuggets and fries!”

You decided to go with a twenty piece box of nuggets.

.

.

.

“So…. what movie do you want to watch….?” You smiled as you flicked through the channels of the t.v., Ben’s gaze never leaving as he sat firmly on the seat. “They made a movie about Sonic?” He questioned.

“Yeah- Jim Carrey plays Eggman.” You smiled.

“Jim Carrey? But… he’s not fat.”

“Yeah, well he wasn’t furry either but he still played the grinch.”

.

.

.

You ended up putting on Star Wars for him, Ben was very happy to learn that you could get any movie you want on any streaming service. Half way through the movie, your Mc Donalds came and the two of you sat on the couch. Ben had less restraint than a dog as he ate his food ravenously. He wanted to rewatch all of the Star Wars movies in chronological order with you, you had never gotten past Return of Jedi, the movies were super long but if were to appease Ben, you could put up with it.

“This is great- I remember when Revenge of the Sith came out- we all had our lightsabers and battled one another before the movie started! Everyone was cheering!”

“Oh! Kind of like the Avengers End game.”

“They made the Avengers into a movie?!” Ben gasped.

“Multiple movies, actually- along with individual movies for each super hero like Black Widow and Captain America."

“We are definitely watching those afterwards!” He yelled, excitedly. Sure, he was still absolutely terrifying, his red eyes that gleamed with childhood excitement. While it did ease you, a reminder he was still the same Ben you first met- you knew you couldn’t let yourself be taken off guard.

“Yeah, of course. So listen- I was thinking if we could…-”

*Ring!*

*Ring!*

Oh my god, you were saved! “Oh, my mom is calling, I should probably get that.” You smiled.

Ben nodded his head. “Sure.” He nodded as he continued to watch the movie. You stepped out of the living room and walked into the laundry room, closing the door so the loud noise from the t.v. would interrupt your call. You braced yourself.

“Hey mom-”

“(Y/N)!” Your mother cried out from the other end of the phone, she sounded happy but you could also hear sobs from the other end. “Mom, is everything alright?!” You questioned, hoping she could hear you from your sobs. 

“Your brother is alive!” She cried, laughing and sobbing at the same time.

“What…?” You muttered.

“It's a miracle! He just came back on his own. Yesterday- his heart gave out and it just started beating again this morning! We’re going to go see him, please come to the hospital baby, we have to see your brother!” Your mother cried.

“Okay! Okay- yeah! I’ll- I’ll… I’ll be right there!” You responded, a smile spreading on your face. You started to shake, tears fell down your cheeks as you soon realised you too were also crying. 

Jed was alive, he was alive!

But wait…. He was in the Majora’s Mask game after BEN took his soul… so how is he back-...

You ended the call and went back into the living room, you picked up the remote and paused the movie.

“Hey! I was watching that-”

“Ben…. Jed… did you save Jed…?” You mumbled, hands close to your chest. He wiped his mouth clean and shrugged. “Yeah- I did. What about it?” he asked.

“H-How did you-?!” You gasped, you were confused, BEN had taken his soul, he must have been dead for half a day. Ben smirked, leaning back on the sofa, one leg over the other. “Simple really. After you passed out I went back into the system and grabbed your brother’s soul. He was dead for a few hours but I was able to find the location of the hospital your brother’s body was kept in. It was easy enough getting it, finding his corpse. Then it was a matter of planting his soul back into his body and jump starting his heart.”

“Ben…!” You cried, rushing to his side, you fell to your knees and grabbed at his torso. “Thank you…! Thank you!” you gasped. All this time, You had been pushing down your grief and sadness, better to focus on Ben who was a living breathing virus who was able to hurt you at any given moment  than on Jed we had given his life to prevent BEN from winning. You figured you would find the time to grieve for him later, you had lost him forever and you had accepted that, but this..?

“Ben… I don’t know what else to say…. You gave my brother back…”

“And I can take him away at any given moment~” He whistled.

“What…..?” You muttered.

“Well- I do care about you alot, but if last night was any indication of your true feelings for me, fear isn’t going to keep you near me and I know how much you love that older brother of yours. After me, he is your best friend and you might reciprocate my affection better if Jed was still alive!”

“Ben…. how could you say something like that….?” You whimpered.

“Hey, listen… you don’t have to look at this as a bad thing. As long as you remain my friend, Jed can live for as long as humanly possible, making his youtube videos, streaming and playing all video games he wants. If you try to run from me again- avoid me, tell people who I am- I have no problem with taking Jed’s soul back… and absorbing it. How everything goes is completely up to you.” He smirked.

You fell back, absolutely horrified.

“Ben…. this isn’t…… this a hostage friendship! You can’t just threaten to kill my brother if I don’t remain your friend… that's wrong!” You cried.

“Well, that's where you’re wrong, (Y/n)." Ben snapped as he leaned over his seat, looking down at you with a ferocity in his eyes, it sent shivers down your spine. “I have no one…. No one but you. You’re the one who saved me… so off course, I love you with every inch of my spirit..but I’m not an idiot. You’re scared of me, even before I took Jed. If you tried to leave me…. I don’t know what I’d do- you make me…. crazy..!” He admitted.

“L-Look, Ben… I promise I’ll never run again! I’ll always be your friend.. Just, don’t hurt anyone.”

“Well… that's the idea, princess.” he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up to meet his gaze. “As long as I have you, I don’t need anyone or anything else….. But if keeping you happy makes you more pliable, then so be it… now then~” He gave you a little peck on your head before letting you go, you fell back against the coffee table, eyes hyper focused on Ben as he let out a small chuckle, lifting a hand, the keys to your car on his finger.

“Why don’t you go pay your brother a visit? I’m sure his memory will be a little foggy.” He said smugly as he swung the keys over to the door.

You practically crawled away as you picked up the car keys and ran out to the car. You turned on the ignition and backed out of the driveway.

.

.

.

Your encounter with Ben had shaken you, but you were surprised that he had let you go as easily as he did. Just last night, he was dragging you back inside Jed’s house by your hair, holding his chained hand over your mouth to prevent you from screaming.

But nevertheless, here you were now, pulling up to the hospital car park. You felt cold, you’ve felt cold since you left the house. Like there was always a pair of eyes watching you from afar, your actions felt restricted, there was only so much you could do. You wrap your hand around your left fingers and squeeze them tightly, you knew Ben was watching you, he didn’t have to make his presence known to know he was there.

Just focus on Jed, he is the priority right now…

You got out of your car and headed inside the hospital. The cold sterile air of the hospital did nothing to brighten your mood, and it only seemed to decrease the closer you approached the psychward. After security checked your bad for anything harmful, you were face to face with a middle aged woman. Her eyes look soulless, her hair dry with split ends, her skin sunken into her skin as if she had not eaten anything in years. Everyone in the psychward seemed that way, however, as you entered your destination-

“(Y/n)!” 

Jed sat up in his bed, smiling. Both your mother and father by his side. Your mother brought him some homemade soup and your father was setting up a vase full of yellow carnations. 

You dropped everything on your being.

“Jed!” You cried, rushing forward and embracing your brother. His hands were warm, he was warm. You could smell the faint scent of his cologne that lingered on his body days before his attempt and the natural smell of wood that came with living so close to nature. “I- I was so worried about you…! With everything that happened…!” 

“About that…. Everyone’s saying you found me in the bathtub.. What happened?” He questioned.

“Huh….?” You murmured. “What do you mean…?”

“Well… I’ll be honest. There's a lot I don’t remember. I remember playing Majora’s mask but when I got to day four…. Nothing comes to mind.” 

That was before the glitch, before BEN started to fuck with him, did Ben……..?

“Are you sure…?” You muttered.

“I can’t say.” Your brother shrugged. “I remember recording my playthrough, maybe we can figure out what happened then-” “(Y/n). Can I talk to you? “Your father demanded, you felt nervous by his attitude but you nodded as he left the room. “What do you think he wants to talk about…?”

“Something about…. Trauma or whenever. Doctors think the reason I can’t remember anything is because my brain is somehow repressing the memories.”

So… this is what Ben meant…?

“Maybe… it's better to forget. I know you're curious to remember what happened… but if you're unconsciously repressing those bad memories, maybe it's for the best?”

“Ugh… maybe you're right. I don’t need to be dealing with traumatic events… but still-”

“(Y/n)!” Your father called. You gave Jed a kiss on the head before telling him you would talk to him a bit before hurrying out to see you dad. He had a stern look on his face. “Where did you go yesterday?” He questioned.

“Back to Jed’s..” You murmured.

“Why? We needed you back at the house… we thought we had already lost one child, and our other up and vanished?”

“I thought I lost my brother… I didn’t want to accept it. I wanted to be in Jed’s house, surrounded by his things…. Mom was crying and you were getting violent-”

“I wasn’t- look… I was angry and I didn’t mean to scare you. But we have bigger fish to fry, did Jed just say he recorded himself throughout those days we didn’t see him?” He asked, nodding your head. “When you’re done here, go back to Jed’s and delete those recordings.”

“What? But… I can’t just go on his computer- all of his private stuff is on there. He would be pissed-”

“I don’t care.” Your father interrupted. “Doctors believe Jed has no memories of what happened and we need to make sure that nothing is left behind to bring back those memories. He could relapse and take his life again. If he doesn’t remember, he can’t be sad again, capche?" He asked.

You nodded your head. “Sure.”

“Good, now let's spend some time together, as a family.” Your father commanded.

.

.

.

It was easy enough convincing your parents to allow you to return to Jed’s house under the guise that you were looking after the place. Though your dad was resistant- Jed expressed his appreciation of you looking after his home while he was in recovery. His doctors wanted to keep him in hospital for a while longer, to find out why he suddenly died and came back to life hours later, to make sure he wasn’t faking his amnesia and just to overall help him through some rehabilitation before letting him go back out into the world.

It would be a while before Jed returned home and in the meantime, you needed to figure out how you were gonna deal with Ben. Right now, you have a place no else would come to but you but Jed will eventually come back home and the last thing you need is your parents or Jed discovering the living virus in your bedroom.

First thing you did was go back to your house and back a suitcase, bringing more of your things as well as all of your necessities before doing some grocery shopping before heading back to Jed’s home.

You let yourself inside.

The inside of the house was dark, save for the T.V that was now playing the news. The McDonald’s packaging was left on the coffee table, making you roll your eyes. “He could have at least cleaned up…” You muttered walking and gathering the rubbish. “Ben! I’m back…!” You heard footsteps behind you.

“There you are! Come help me clean up-”

You felt large hands grab you, you were pulled back into an unfamiliar chest before an arm wrapped itself around your neck and began to choke the life from you. You gasped, your head looking up to catch a glimpse of your attacker. He was wearing a bandana around his face and a hat on his head. His eyes had wrinkles around them- you guessed he was old.

Was he here to rob your house, knowing it was just you here?

You grabbed the arm that choked you and tried your best to reef it away, but the man was clearly much stronger than you.`You tried to weigh him down, flailing your legs so he might drop you, but he simply pulled you back up while continuing to choke you.

“B-Ben…!” You gasped.

“Ben’s not coming to save you.” You attacker growled, his hold tightening, your face turning blue as air escaped you.

“GeT yOuR hAnDs OfF hEr!” That dark distorted voice echoed from the t.v as Ben crawled from the t.v. red eyes filled with murderous intent as your attacker’s grip loosened in shock. “Ben…!” He gasped.

Ben’s body left the t.v. and began to levitate, his chains jiggling with every movement he made as approached closer and closer, the attacker’s grip on you still. “Stay back Ben! I can snap her neck in an instant!” 

“Hehehe…!” Ben chuckled, as if the whole thing was a silly game. 

“Oh really? Then what will protect you when she is dead?”

What?

“This wasn’t supposed to happen! What happened to BEN?!” The man behind you growled.

The living virus merely raises his arms.

“The entity is dead- I am all that remains… and I have kept a long note of those complicit in my imprisonment, you included.”

Ben grabbed the arm that held you captive and reefed the man up into the air into him, allowing you to collapse and catch your breath. You could only look up in horror.

The man dangled by his arm as Ben held him up, a green glow radiating his body as he gave the man a wicked grin.

“PLEASE! Don’t kill me, I’ll do anything!”

“Aw…. poor you. And to think immortality was within your reach…. How pathetic~”

The next part, you’d rather not remember. But in that instant- Ben had shoved his hand into the man’s mouth, his arm disappearing further and further into the man’s throat. You could see the man’s throat expand from where the arm was, the man writhing in pain, his screams blocked from the arm in his throat.

In the next second, Ben ripped his arm out, his hand was a bloody heart.

The man was dropped next to you, blood pooling in his mouth.

“Well, that was something, huh?” Ben shrugged.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, you kept screaming, the dead body right next to you, you couldn’t stop shaking, tears racing down your face all you did the only thing you could. Scream in fear, in terror. The longer you looked at the corpse, the more your heart raced.

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah! Calm down!” Ben frantically chimed, now back on his feet like he wasn't expecting this reaction from you. But you didn’t stop screaming, your heartbeat going faster and faster until your brain could no longer keep up. The sudden fatigue hit you and the next thing you knew, you had fallen back as black dots clouded your vision.

“NO! (Y/n)!” Ben called as he shook your body. But you were unresponsive, letting your consciousness fade away.

.

.

.

“(Y/n)......?

“(Y/n).......?”

“(Y/n).......?”

Was there a damn four year old next to your bed or something?

You slowly opened your eyes, Ben sat right beside you on the bed, staring down at you with a concerned gaze, his knees to his chest. He had put a small blanket over your body to prevent you from getting cold- but you certainly didn’t feel any better.

“Hey….” He smiled, a small smile- like a kid who knows they fucked up but pretend everything is okay, hoping the adults won’t notice whats wrong.

“Ben.” You grunted, but you knew what was wrong.

“I’m glad you’re okay, I wasn’t expecting you to faint like that-”

“You literally murdered someone!” You spat.

“Aaaannnnd? He was trying to kill you.” He reasoned like it was the most obvious thing. You had a feeling that explaining to him why that was wrong wouldn’t work nor would he even listen. “Where is the body….?” You mumbled.

“It's still where it was.” He answered, that made you sit up

“You left the fucking body in the living room? Ben, are you kidding me!?” You bark.

“What did you want me to do, I was more worried about you.” He huffed, now sitting with his legs crossed, you noticed his arm was still blood. You had absolutely no words, no words at all- but your mouth still moved by itself. “Get rid of it! If the wrong person comes- I’m gonna go to jail!”

“Pfft! You're not gonna go to jail!” Ben laughed.

“How do I explain the dead body in my brother’s house Ben?! You murdered a man in a gruesome fashion and you can’t be bothered to clean up the damn body!? What is wrong with you?!?!” You cried, breaking down in tears, you sobbed into your hands, hefty whimpers leaving your mouth. Why was this happening to you, you were trying to make this work but Ben was as unstable as BEN. What happened to the little boy who just wanted to be free?

“Hey….. don’t cry….” Ben murmured nervously, but you didn’t want to look at him, when he touched you, you only sobbed harder.

“I’ll get rid of the body! Okay.. just wait here until I get back, okay?”

Ben quickly hightailed it out of the room, leaving you alone. You snifted, your nose runny now. The smashed t.v. still on the ground, the wall, the laptop turned off, the console… You slowly walked over and removed the cartridge from the console. You huffed, tossing it against the wall. Last night, when Ben licked your blood, he was able to replicate human cells and turn his digital body into one of flesh. He was free now. BEN was dead, the moon children are dead. And then there was that guy who just tried to kill you. You assumed he must have been the one to send Jed the old cartridge. There must be more among the cult living still, those whose souls were never transported into the game. They must be responsible for retrieving the cartridge every time BEN was finished with a victim before finding another unlucky soul to sick BEN on.

Sick bastards.

You left your bedroom before heading into the bathroom, you quickly blew your nose and wiped your eyes before looking at yourself in the mirror. You were stressed beyond your limits. Your hair was messy, you had dark circles and you could already see some acne on the verge of breaking out. You were a mess.

You left the bathroom and looked down from the top of the stairs. “Ben….!” You called out.

But he didn’t respond. Did he leave with the body? You hoped so, because you didn’t want to see it as you crept down the stairs.

Ben wasn’t there, neither was the body. Just a patch of blood where the body once was. You left the house before finally taking in your stuff. Groceries were put away, some of your ice cream melted but you just stuffed it in the freezer anyway. While downstairs, you looked in a cabinet under the stairs where you found your brother’s tools. When he wasn’t gaming, he was helping to assemble furniture for elderly and those who didn’t know their way around an instruction manual.

You took the power drilled and made sure the tip had the right screw piece as you went upstairs. First thing you did was clean up the scattered glass that remained, it was a wonder that you didn’t cut up your feet. Then you unscrewed your t.v. from the wall before carrying it and a trashbag full of glass down stairs where you tossed it into the garage. You should dispose of it properly tomorrow.

Then you undressed and headed into the bathroom before setting up for your routine. Popping your zits (yes, yuck) and clearing them with micellar water, three pumps of your face wash before scrubbing your face, the soap getting in your eyes but you didn’t care if you splashed the water on your face and brushed your teeth. Then you got into your shower, giving your hair the conditioning it needed before scrubbing every inch of your body with your favourite brand of shower foam.

You got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around your body, you moisturised your face before adding three pumps of your favourite hair oil into your hair and making sure every strand got a healthy dose before blowdrying your hair at low heat. You looked a lot better after your shower, you would have done more like a face mask but moisturisation would do for now, speaking of which, you went back into your room once you were done and grabbed a tub of your favourite body cream.

You sat on your bed, rubbing the cream onto your shoulders, chest, arms and your legs.

While doing your routine, you wondered about Ben. Would he even know where to dispose of a body? Did you? You should have spent less time watching Sex and the City and more time watching Dexter.

“I’m back!” 

Already?!

Before you could remove yourself from the Bed, the door was already opened, Ben standing there, gripping the handle.

His red eyes meet your own. He stood there, frozen. You yourself were as solid as a statue. Bare skin on display, the only thing protecting your decent was a towel wrapped around your torso, your hair falling behind your back.

“B-....Ben..” You muttered.

You had never seen such a miraculous transformation in your life. In one second, his pale face filled with so much blood, the crimson liquid that dripped from his eyes seemed to spill quicker. His grip on the handle tightened while his other hand shook. “Ben…?” You were starting to grow concerned- what was happening to him? Had he suddenly developed a fever? It kind of made sense… his body was new and you didn’t think if it would be susceptible to illness so quickly-

“Boobies…” He muttered.

“Huh?” You grunted. As you focused on his line of sight, you realised something, He was never looking at your eyes- he was looking at your tits!

You could see him gulp, his Adam's apple moving in response, the way he looked intently at your body, the light thin sheet of sweat that layered his face. How could you have been so stupid? All this time, you’ve been looking at Ben as if he was some unstable kid- Ben is NOT a kid. He is a grown ass man who has been stuck in a kid’s game for twenty something years! Freshly released… he’s probably never seen a woman’s body and here you were, on the chopping block.

You saw his eyes creep lower to your legs, long, bare and freshly moisturised.

“You-”

“BEN!” You yelled, standing up so suddenly. It took him off guard, making him step back. You tightened the towel around your body, whatever it is, you couldn’t let Ben take control of this situation and stand your ground.

“Don’t you know….. It's impolite to enter a woman’s bedroom without knocking…?” You asked.

“No…..?” He muttered, the little shit.

“Well you do know now. Please give me privacy, ‘friends’ don’t do that.” You said, making an emphasis on the friends part. He swallowed again before closing your door. You didn’t think it would be that easy to get rid of him. You had to cry your heart out just to get him to dispose of the body earlier. This was getting more and more confusing.

You were gonna wear the pajamas with shorts but on further reflection, you were starting to see why that may be a bad idea. You put on your pajama bottoms and a loose top before opening the door. “Ben? I’m dressed now-”

He stood right outside the door, his crimson eyes staring down at you with a fierce intensity.

“Jesus Christ!" You squawk, your eyes popping from your skull. You nearly fell, catching yourself on the drawer, feeling your mini heart attack spread throughout your body, “Why were you just standing there…!?” You cried.

“..........................I was waiting for you……” He muttered.

“Well…. I’m here now!” 

You both stood there in silence- you were waiting for Ben to tell you what to do, but he just stood there cluelessly as if you were a foreign entity (Ironically enough). “Do you…. Want me to make dinner…?” You asked.

He slowly nodded, this was gonna be an awkward night…

.

.

.

“I don’t want vegetables….” He mumbled, even though you had already placed the plate right in front of him. You had wanted something simple but something nice. You figure he needed a proper meal and not McDonalds but he was being silly at this point. The dish you made was a Filet mignon with a side of grilled asparagus and onions that littered the top of the steak. Ben looked disgusted by them.

“I already went through the trouble of cooking them- it’ll be a waste of food.”

“Vegetables are gross.” He muttered, pushing his plate away.

“Ben. You're not twelve anymore.” You huffed as you grabbed your utensils, starting with the asparagus first, evenly coated with salt and pepper, cooked in olive oil like your mom taught. You figured if you led with the vegetables, Ben would copy. Monkey see, Monkey do. You made pretty good asparagus, finishing your first one with a couple of bites before cutting into your steak, Ben had his arms folded, leaning into his chair with a pout on his face.

“If you eat your dinner, I’ll share some of my nutella ice cream with you.” You bargained.

“Nutella Ice cream!?” His eyes lit up with wonder. “When did that happen?!”

“Just last year.” You said, before looking down at his plate. “You know… I made that with a lot of love Ben- because I thought you’d really like it.” You said, trying to pull out his heart strings and he did look a little guilty.  “Just eat this for me now, and if you don’t like it, I won’t make it again- deal?” you asked.

He huffed before pulling the plate back toward him.

He stabbed the vegetable with his fork before slowly taking a bite. He took his sweet time eating it- trying to decipher how he felt about it before continuing to eat. You were done eating your dinner before Ben before bringing your dishes to the sink, giving yours a wash before leaving them on the rack to dry. Ben was halfway through his dinner, he seemed to have enjoyed the steak and was now adapting to the flavour of the asparagus.

“Hey Ben…. I have a question.” You ask, leaning against the counter.

“Hmm?” He lifted his head towards you, juice running down the sides of his mouth like a kid.

“Why…. Do you look like Link? I imagined when you finally got free, you’d revert to a form that's of your true self, y’know?” You asked.

Ben swallowed his food, putting his knife and fork down. “Can I be honest…?” he mumbled.

“Sure.” You said, folding your arms.

“I……. I don’t remember…… what I look like…”

“You don’t?” That certainly took you off guard. “I was a twelve year old boy when I was absorbed into the game (Y/n)... it's been twenty years so my memory has been a little foggy. Besides- I’d rather be Link, everyone likes Link- even you do!” He smirked, folding his arms.

“What's with that look…?” You scowled, he was up to something.

He snapped his fingers and a notification rang from your phone. “Go on~” He chuckled

You were nervous. You slowly took out your phone and opened it.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

All of the semi-nsfw fanart of Link from your twitter/X appeared on your phone from all your favourite creators!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You were quick to yeet your phone onto the couch in the living room from where you stood, you face red from embarrassment and Ben snickered. “I don’t know about you, but liking stuff like that makes you a pervert!”

“SHUT UP!” You yelled, turning yourself away from him. “I’ll have you know I’m an adult and I can like whatever the hell I like on my private social media- and it's none of your business!”

“Yeah- I noticed that most of the Link characters you liked were from that new Zelda game- tears of the kingdom?”

Ben began to glow- like literally glow, making you look away. “Ben, what's going on?!” You yelled, waiting for the light to dissipate. “Ben?”

“Here~” He called, you looked over at him and gawked.

There he was, but this time, he wasn’t Ocarina of Time Link- but Tears of the Kingdom Link! His eyes still a crimson red, the cocky smirk way too familiar. “Well, what do you think? Is this how you prefer Link? Or maybe you would prefer Twilight Princess Link?”

“Ben stop! This isn’t funny!” You yelled.

“Oh come on!” He cackled, getting up from his seat, to stand in front of you. “I’m not an idiot, you like what you like, I’m not going to judge you. Besides, if it's for you, I can be….. Anyone you want me to be~” 

“That's enough!” You yelled, pushing him back. “You say you like me Ben, but I don’t even know if I like you like that, when we met I was still under the impression you were a kid. I don’t know you like that and you don’t know me like that-.....”

What made you stop talking was the way he was looking at you right now, he smiled at you creepily, as if waiting for you to realise something.

And you did.

“Did you……snoop through my phone…?” You whimpered.

“I saw aaaaaallllllllll your messages, all your likes and comments on your social media, all your photos and videos, I even took the liberty of looking through all of your emails. I was surprised to find out your a fanfic writer-”

“BEN!” You shouted, tears dripping down your cheeks. “How dare you?!” You squealed. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so violated before- more so then the time that one creep from school came into the girl’s bathroom and took videos of you and the others getting changed. It wasn’t just pictures- it was private conversations, pictures that were meant for your eyes only, documents that you kept saved in your files just in case you needed them, your exposure to all the things you liked but can never share with anyone else. All of your secrets are put out there, just like that.

“I hate you! You ugly fucking creep- I HATE YOU!” You screamed, tears streaming down your face as you raced from the kitchen, grabbing your phone off the couch and heading towards the stairs. “(Y/n)! (Y/n)- wait!” Ben yelled, his footsteps behind you.

“GO AWAY!” You screamed, you rushed up the stairs and to your bedroom door where you slammed it closed. Ben tried to open it again but you were quick to lock it. “(Y/n)- please come out- i’m sorry!” You could hear the desperation in his voice, as if he were a child who knew he was in trouble, he banged against the door in the hopes you would feel bad and open it up.

“Why are you tormenting me like this….?!” You cursed.

“No I’m not!” He argued.

“You hold my brother’s life over my head, you attack me, you go through my phone with all my personal shit Ben! I have been TRYING to help you, accommodate you, but you don’t make it easy do you?!” 

“I won’t do it again- I promise. Just don’t hate me….. please….?” You could hear the whimper in his voice. Small and scared, you could hear the scratching at the door.

“You don’t know proper boundaries, Ben! You say you want to be my friend- yet the way you treat me…. I need to be alone for a while………….please…. Leave me alone.”  You muttered.

“I’m sorry…..I’m sorry……….I’m sorry……….I’m sorry…….I’m sorry……….I’m sorry-”

While he muttered his apologies, you dropped yourself onto your bed and rubbed your face. You needed to distract yourself, but you couldn’t even find the need to doomstroll, not with Ben looking through your phone. Your night was going abominably and you didn’t know how you were gonna deal with the living virus in your house.

*Clink!*

“Hey! Rapunzel- open your window!” Yelled a voice from outside. 

You quickly sat up. “Huh?” You hurried over to your window and looked outside- it was your friends! You quickly opened your window. “Guys? What are you doing here?” 

“Hey girlfriend!” They squawked, happy to see you. “We tried calling you- but you never picked up, and your doorbell isn’t working for some reason! But we saw the light on so we knew you were here!”

Fucking Ben. “Thats great, but that doesn’t answer the question!”

“You know Tony? He’s throwing a house party- you need to come with us!” 

“I would- but I’m not exactly dressed for a party…!”

“It's fine- we’re heading to the store- I swiped my sister’s ID, we’re gonna go buy some alcohol, you get dressed and buy the time we come back- we’ll all head to the party!” 

“Sure- yeah! I’ll go.”

Your friends waved you off before getting in the car, you rooted through your bag for something you could wear to the party. You pulled out a white long sleeved/ off the shoulder shirt by Hysteric Glamour, a black mini skirt with thin white vertical stripes and a white studded belt. You put on some subtle makeup, brushed out your hair and used some of the old britney spears perfume your mom got you for your birthday. You slide out some black boots to complete the look.

Now to deal with Ben. You weren’t gonna bring your phone with you- the last thing you needed was Ben stalking you, a few hours away from him would do you some good and it had only been a day.

You opened the Bed room door, the hallway was empty, perhaps he got the message and bounced.

You tip toed to the stairs.

“(Y/n).....” Ben muttered.

“AGH! Damn it Ben!” You yelled, there he stood at the bottom of the stairs, back in his original form.

“Who was that outside- you’re not leaving me, are you?” He muttered darkly.

“I’m going to a party.” You huffed, marching down the stairs, challenging Ben’s gaze. “I’ll only be gone for a few hours.” You went to walk to the front door when he grabbed your arm. “You can’t.” He stated.

“Ben. Let go of me.” You demanded, trying to pull your arm away, but his hand held firm. “Are you trying to punish me…? I already said I was sorry!” He yelled.

“Not everything I do has to do with you!” You yelled- yanking your arm away from his grasp. “I am not a toy Ben! I am a person with feelings and boundaries and you have pushed me to my limits!”

*BEEP!* *BEEP!*

“Hey bitch! Where you at?!” Your friend yelled from outside.

“I’ll see you later.” You said in a final and firm voice as you  hurried over to the front door. “Hey whores!” You smiled as you hopped over the side and into the back seat of your friend’s convertible. “Ooh girl- do you lose weight or something? You look like you're anorexic or some shit- ha!” Your friend said beside you.

“Oh shut up!” You laughed as you drove away from your brother’s house

“Hey! Did you here about the overnight suicides?”

“No… must have missed that- haven’t been online today.”  You say, a sinking feeling in your stomach.

“Yeah- turns out a lot of them were pedophiles and other types of sickos- crazy right?”

Just what the fuck has Ben been doing since you passed out last night….?

.

.

.

“LET'S PARTY!” A drunk classmate of yours cheered as he climbed up on the pool table with two red cups in his hand. You all cheered, a red cup passed into your hand as you all drank as the DJ began to run his tracks- another classmate of yours. The music beats loudly in your ears as the air is hot and stuffy as your bodies surround you in a mosh pit. “YEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!” Someone next to you roared, letting the pet up frustration out of his system.

It was weird, someone tried to kill you a few hours ago and now here you were, moshing.

“(YYYYY/NNNNNNNNNNN!)” Your friend, Sarah, called out from the crowd, she grabbed your hand, leading you to the backyard, people dancing, drinking, doing pot, making out in the pool. You pushed your hair out of your face. “What's up!?”

“Theres someone I want you to meet!” She yelled, dragging you over to a group of boys, one of them was tall, dark brown hair and green eyes. “Remember that guy at the College meet I was telling you about?” You remember, you weren’t able to go that day because of a particularly heavy period so you asked Sarah to pick up pamphlets for all the colleges that had the particular course you wanted to go to- this guy just so happened to choose the same college, and the same course.

“Todd, this is (Y/n)! The one I was telling you about!” She smiled, pushing you forward. You couldn’t deny, he was very handsome. He had a cute gummy smile as he took your hand. “It's nice to meet you!”

“Likewise- so you're also looking to go to AS Uni?” 

“Yup, with any luck, I’ll be able to apply for a scholarship- though, I heard the dorms can get a little wild- like here.”

“Yeah, I might just find an apartment to rent. Don’t think I could handle dorm life.”

“I was thinking the exact same- though, apartments in that area can be pricey- so I’ll be looking for a roommate.”

“I would consider it to” You smiled, taking a drink from your cup. “Wanna dance?” He asked, raising a brow. You both finished your drinks before heading back inside the house.

“PARTY PEOPLE! LETS DANCE THE NIGHT AWAY!” Someone yelled before tossing themselves into the crowd, letting the people carry him around the room.

Your keep me under your spell

You keep me under your spell-

“Oh my god- this is my jam- this is my jam!” You cried, getting into the grove as you let the music dictate your moves.

You keep me under your spell

It's like I waited -

You keep me under your spell

It's like I waited too -

You keep me under your spell

It's like I waited too long

But all the scars you can see

They're permanent, I am not

The room seemed to become more upbeat as the song played, Todd took your hand as you both began to dance to the song.

I want an innocent love

The rest of time

But all the scars you can see when I take my clothes off

Oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

(They're permanent, I am not)

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

(They're permanent, I am not)

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

(They're permanent, I am not)

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

(They're permanent, I am not)

Todd placed his hand on your hip bringing you closer together as you flipped your hair back. He mouthed something to you, but you couldn’t exactly make out what he was saying before he pulled you in for a kiss.

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah

Oh-oh, ah-ah, uh-ah, ah-ah, oh

You didn’t hate it, not in the slightest, it felt great. His arm wrapped further around your torso as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You lifted your foot up with glee, he really was cute.

“Hey man- put it down!” You heard someone yell, but you weren’t all too focused on your surroundings. You two pulled away from each other- your fingers reaching through his curly hair. He mouthed something again, but this time, you could tell what he was saying. 

‘You are so beautiful.’

And in that moment, you were about to pull him back into that kiss you shared-

*Clatter!*

*Smash!*

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

You were pushed- you would have nearly fell if it wasn’t for Todd who quickly caught you. You quickly spun your head to see who pushed you. A guy was shoved by you, knocking over the small table, the glass ashtray smashing on the ground as another guy quickly got on top of him. “FUCKING PRICK!” He roared, grabbing him by the shirt and punching him in the face.

“Oh my GOD!” You screamed in horror as Todd pulled you away. “Stay with me!”  He yelled as a ground of guys rushed over, trying to pull the assailant off the poor guy. You heard the sounds of shouting, cursing and things falling, you looked around the room, multiple scenes occurring.

One man dropped his phone before marching over to the closet guy in his sight before slugging him in the face. Another guy pulled a knife from the block and stabbed it into a girl’s hand- making her scream in pain. One of your friends had grabbed another girl- taking her cigarette and pressing it on her face. Sarah had taken a beer bottle and smashed it on some poor guy's head.

Next thing you knew, all hell broke loose and suddenly, everyone was attacking each other.

“WHAT IS HAPPENING!?” You screamed, witnessing the pandemonium unfold, boys attacking boys and girls. Girls attacking girls and boys, no fear of pain or harm- just pure rage. One guy’s glare landed on you, without hesitation, he charged right for- like a spanish bull who saw red. “Oh fuck!” You screamed, flinching in fear.

“UGH!” The guy was punched in the face, Todd coming to your defence and knocking him out in one hit before he grabbed your hand. “Come on! We have to get out of here!” He yelled before pulling you forward. He charged through the crowd, knocking down anyone who was in your way while you hung back. People were throwing furniture and attacking each other with makeshift weapons. Todd pulled you up the stairs, your lungs on fire as you did your best to keep up with him. You could hear footsteps behind you.

Todd and yourself ran through the hall before rushing inside the bedroom. He slammed the door behind you and held his body against it as the other violent party goers tried to force it open. “Quickly! Find something to barricade the door with!” He yelled.

Why was this situation so familiar?

You hurried over to the nearby cabinet, knocking everything down before pushing it over to the door, Todd helping you and while the cabinet held the door close, you reached for the lock and turned the key till you heard a ‘click’ sound.

“What the fuck is going on?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!?” Todd yelled, his body shaking as you and him backed away from the door, your body shaking also- but more so from adrenaline than fear. “I don’t know- everyone has gone crazy….!”

“We have to call the police!” He yelled as taking his phone out of his pocket and went to the emergency contact. He pressed the call button.

“Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available- please leave a message after the tone.”

“What the hell!? You're the goddamn police- you can’t just not be available when it suits you!” 

Wait….

This seems……   

He couldn’t have-

“Todd! Put down your phone-!” You cried. Todd’s neck was angled, his eyes gazing directly down at his screen, a video playing on his phone.

“LIFE does not end at DEATH! You go through an endless loop- living on, and on, and on, and on and on-”

“Fucking kill that CUNT!”

“Women are the most precious of our society!”

The screams of monkeys echoed as the roars of angry riots pierce the silence. Todd was unmoving, not saying anything, not even blinking. “Todd….?” You muttered.

He dropped the phone and you stepped back, fear hammering in your heart. But he didn’t look at you, he walked over to the full length mirror, placing his hand upon the glass, staring at himself.

*BANG!*

You flinched, horror washing over your features as Todd headbutted himself in the mirror, he did again, this time, a crack forming where his head was, blood rang down his forehead but this did not stop him from smashing his head against the fracture mirror. “TODD, STOP!” You screamed, you hopped on his back, using your weight to pull him down to the ground with you. He tried to wrestle himself from your grip but you kept your legs wrapped around his torso, your arms around his shoulders.

“Todd please- you have to calm down!” You cried.

The tv switched on- the block of colours with the words- No signal on the tv.

A familiar hand reached out from the screen, pulling the top half of his figure from the screen, his eyes directed at you trying to prevent Todd from hurting himself further. 

“You honestly didn’t think you could keep me away for long, did you….?”

“BEN!” You screamed, Todd was strong, his own hands pulling at your arms as you struggled to keep you in place. “Why are you doing this?!” You screamed.

He pulled the rest of his body from the screen, rolling onto the carpeted floor as he sat down, watching you struggle to keep Todd in check. “You know, I miss my time. Things were a lot simpler back then. The world was a simpler place- but I LOVE this time.” he chuckled, opening his hand as a green digital sphere appeared over his palm, tiny digital blocks shaping what you could only see as the continents of the world.

“The world has been revolutionised since I’ve last seen it- you can connect with anyone across the globe with the touch of a button, anytime and anywhere. Privacy doesn’t even exist anymore! I can see everyone’s activity- their search history- their entire lives on display. Making them easy targets from the victims BEN used to aim for back then.”

Todd had broken free from your grip by grabbing at your hair, making you release him instantly- then he grabbed you in turn, wrapping his arms around your chest and squeezing you off-so tightly. You gasped for air as Ben leaned back against the closet. “Sure, you left your phone at home- but your friends had their phones which made tracking you down VERY easy- and everyone was one their phone~”

Ben had taken Todd’s phone from the ground, the video was still playing as Todd squeezed you harder.

“B-BEN! Please- stop this!” 

“Does the term ‘subliminal’ mean anything to you? Because it was easy to make all these drunk teenagers kill each other by opening up the right videos. Subliminal messages coercing to act out without them even realising it and they’ll always be under my control- so long as there is a screen for them to mindless stare at~”

“WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” You begged.

Ben smirked, snapping his fingers. The tightness squeezing you had vanished. Todd had let go of you.

“First thing’s first, you’re gonna apologize to me. You really hurt my feelings- even after I told you I was sorry.”

“Ben-”

“I’m sorry? Are you sorry? That better be the next words I hear from you- or else Todd is gonna walk straight out that window and land head first on the ground if that's what you want.” He snapped.

Your lip wobbled and your brows furrowed. You knew you had nothing to apologise for but Ben had you in a chokehold. It was either that or you got Todd killed.

“I’m sorry Ben……..”

You heard a grunt. “You can’t even say it without meaning it!” He barked before looking at the window, to which Todd began walking towards.” NO! Nononono! Wait- Ben!” You cried, jumping at his legs. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please don’t!”

“Too late- you are so ungrateful, you know? Are all girls like this- no wonder Dad left Mom-”

“I’ll give you whatever you want!” You begged, grabbing at his knees.

He huffed, folding his arms. “Pfft- what can you give me that would be more satisfying that hearing his skull smash into tiny incy wincy pieces-”

Your next move was really a gamble, but as far as you could go, you didn’t have any other option. Just as Todd reached for the handle on the window- you grabbed Ben’s collar. He flinched defensively, but not before you pressed a kiss against the side of his mouth. You heard Todd’s footsteps come to a halt as you removed your hands from his collar and planted them on his face.

“Come on Ben, for me? Don’t you love me? Surely you can forgive me for this tiney tiny mistake, please?” You said in the most girlish yet pleasing voice you could muster.

Ben looked confused- very confused. He touched the corner of his mouth, the place of your kiss, his cheeks going bright red. “And why should I….. you kissed him….” He growled.

“Hahaha!” You chuckled nervously, sweat dripping down your back as you moved your hands to his shoulders, grasping them. “I was only trying to make you jealous, see how you’d react! Don’t you know that girls love it when you go crazy for them…?” You whispered shyly.

What the fuck were you saying? What the absolute FUCK were you saying?!

“I……. didn’t……” he muttered.

“Come on Ben~” You whispered huskily, crawling into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Ben looked absolutely stunned, his hands were hovering, he clearly didn’t know what he was supposed to do with him which meant you had gained all the control you needed in this situation.

“Let him go, we don’t need anyone else but each other. It's you and me- I can give you more kisses- as many as you want~” You smiled, tilting your head.

*Bump!*

‘Huh?’ You thought as something poked against your leg and looked down. 

“WAIT!” He yelled.

He had a boner. 

It took everything in your brain to not let your face drop, to let your cool drop, but Ben clearly did. The minute you looked back up at him- he was glitching? His hands were twitching and glitching, his red orbs disappeared, leaving only black holes in his eyes with even more of that droopy red blood leaking from his eyes, his head twitching like he had torettes, his teeth grinding- this was clearly not part of his programme.

“B-Ben!” You gasped.

“AGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Screams echoed from downstairs, more gasps of shock and panic came from the outside the bedroom you and Ben resided from. “Ugh..!” Todd dropped to the floor, clutching his head. “What- whats happening…where am I…?!”

“Fuck..!” You muttered. You couldn’t let anyone see Ben. “Come on handsome, time to make our escape!” You whispered, standing up and helping Ben up, letting him lean on your shoulder. You looked for any sort of exit point- but the door was blocked with more people outside and Todd was right by the window. You only real option… was the t.v.

You hurried over to the screen. “Come one Ben- you need to get through!” You urged. He silently pulled himself through the screen and you looked over at Todd who was still groaning in pain. You had a mind to help him- if it wasn’t for the hand that grabbed you from the screen.

“Ben-!” Before you could protest further, you felt yourself being pulled through.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

.

.

.

You can’t say you knew how it felt to be digitalised- your whole physical matter being compressed into a single code. Because obviously, you never knew what that was supposed to feel like until the living virus dragged you into the screen with him. A long hand pulling you into a black void with hundreds of numerical and alphabetic codes rushed past your body without a care.

You were sure you were screaming the whole time- but you couldn’t hear yourself scream.

“AGH!”

You could finally hear yourself when you reached the light, you didn’t know what heaven looked like but it wasn’t this. It was like passing though another screen when you finally hit the ground. “Ugh….” You felt like getting sick- but you couldn’t. Pressing your hand against your throbbing head as you look up. It was way too bright. Vibrant green grass that led up a hill and a beautiful blue sky-

“AM I IN WINDOWS XP?!?!?!?!?!” You screamed.

There was no mistake- you definitely were! How did you know? Because you grew up seeing this screen every time your father or brother were logging into the computer for something. This was the homescreen wallpaper for every computer in the computer classroom, in all of your friend’s houses. Just what the hell was going on?!

“Ben! Ben!?” You called out, standing up on wobbly legs as you walked around the great open field, looking for corrupted Link. It was strange to you, you couldn’t feel warmth nor the cold, you couldn’t even feel the sensation of touch. Not your fingertips against the grass nor your clothes rubbing off your skin. “Just what the heck is happening?” 

You trudged up the hill as it was surprisingly steep- you guess from the angle the picture was made, it didn’t look that steep. Although it was bright, there was no sun- just endless bright blue skies with no end in sight. When you got to the top of the hill, right below it on the other side from where you were standing was a pond and beyond that pond was an endless field of green grass that disappeared into the distance. You carefully stepped down the hill, not wanting to accidentally tumble, this pond was the only distinguishable landmark besides the hill.

“Ben…?” You said unsure, hoping he might just suddenly appear like the virus he was, that's what viruses do, right? As you reached the edge of the pond, you looked around once more, but there was no sign of the boy at all. “Ben please!” You yelled, hoping this might just be one bad joke. You looked down at the pond once more, it seemed deep which surprised you, you couldn’t see the bottom.

“Ben?” 

You saw the tip of a familiar green cap worming its way below the darkness.

“Oh my god, Ben!” You yelled, falling to your knees and looking down closer at the water, you could see it more clearly, Ben was in the water, his eyes were blank, his teeth grinding together still as he floated but never came to the surface. ‘I have to do something!’ you thought as your hand reached out into the water.

“Huh?” You muttered as you pulled it out. Your hand was certainly in the water- but it didn’t feel like actual water and when you pulled it out, it wasn’t wet, neither was your sleeve. You exhaled through your nostrils as you pulled your legs out from under you and placed them in the water and jumped into the pond. Was this a bad idea, possibly, but you didn’t have a lot of options either. You were fully submerged in the water- but funnily enough, you didn’t feel the need to hold in your breath or exhale. As your hair floated above you, it simulated water but it didn’t have the other aspects of water like how it feels or that you can’t breath under water.

“Ben!” You yelled, clear despite the interference of the water quieting its sound, you swam over to the virus to stop right in front of him. He was chained down, stopping him from floating upwards. “Ben! Come on- whats happening…”

“You shouldn’t have done that….” He muttered, his red orbs rolling forward, facing you. “Done what-” Before you could fully answer him, he wrapped his arms around you, locking you in a tight embrace, one that took you for surprise. “YOU KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” he roared, frightening you. You froze up in his tight grip.

“Why….? Why were you acting so vulgar?! Why are you doing this to me…?! Don’t you know you can’t be acting like that- I might get the wrong idea- your MY friend, we can’t be acting like this!” He yelled.

Oh……. you see what was happening…….

“If I made you uncomfortable Ben- I’m sorry-”

“It's not that! I………” He looked down in shame before uttering the next words. “I liked it… and I’m scared…”

Oh christ….

“Scared of what Ben? You’re an adult, it's okay to have feelings like this-”

“That's the problem! When I died, I used to think cooties was a thing and that being friends with girls was gross- then I found myself back in the land of the living for the first time in twenty odd years and my only friend is a beautiful girl who likes me- or….. At least I think you do- but I don’t know what to do! I love you so much and I’m scared of you leaving me for some other guy who barely knows you! We’re friends but I don’t think I could ever stand to let some other man have you like that- I don’t want you to kiss other guys- I want you to kiss me and only me! I know we’re friends and that type of stuff is wrong but that's how I feel!” 

If you were in reality, you would be shaking, but the dread in your heart was real. You already knew that this corrupted version of Ben was crazy, but you were starting to see that his level of insanity had gone up. You were more than just a toy to him now, you were now the object of his perverse fixation. He hasn’t even been free a day and now he believes you and him are meant to be.

But it's not like you could just tell him that, straight to his face. He was mad, he was pissed that you kissed another guy and now you were stuck in the cyber world that obeys his commands. He may be an adult but he’s a manchild with no control over his emotions or maturity. He was still that kid who had his life ripped away from him and now he’s in the future with no one who knows or cares.

You had to ask yourself, how much of this was BEN’s doing… and how much of this was just Ben who he really is, hurt and scared of being alone.

“Oh Ben…” You murmured, this time taking your arms and wrapping them around his shoulders. “It's fine…. It's fine…..” You hushed. He leaned into you, his face in your neck, clinging to you. He came here to be alone and found himself desperate for you and your attention. “Promise that you won’t ever leave me, not for some guy- not for anyone. I’m the one who you’ll always look at.”

You gulped

“Of course Ben, always.”

While he cuddled himself into your body, you were mentally stabbing yourself. Why? Because you just told a lie that you can never take back.

“(Y/n)...” Ben pulled away for the moment, then latched his lips onto yours, you couldn’t feel it- but you knew what it meant to him, his hand on the back of your neck while the other held your waist.

His silent vow of love to you as you both floated in the dark endless body of water.

[ivrket]

Your doorbell rang

[luvpinkjaz]

Yall this TUMBLR WRITERS FICS GOT ME IN A CHOCKHOLD 😫😫😫

Like if you are freaky and you like creepypastas I strongly RECOMMEND checking them out!

-> @dirtyl0ver ( you keep writing your heart out queen ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ )

[iyayadonna]

𝓉𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝓂𝑒 𝜗𝜚 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝒿𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝓍 𝒻𝑒𝓂! 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: You are a medical student at the top of your class—brilliant, disciplined, and utterly numb. Burnout has hollowed you out, leaving behind a ghost in a white coat who moves through life on autopilot. The worst part?

You can't feel anything anymore.

Not joy, not pain, and certainly not pleasure. Then you meet him. A mysterious practitioner operating out of a butcher-shop backroom, known only as Jack. His methods are unorthodox, his hands unsettlingly precise, and his eyes—black as a starless night—seem to see straight through the cracks in your composure. 

He offers a solution: sensate therapy.

And the thing that stirs under his touch isn’t just arousal.

It’s hunger.

Also, huge shoutout to @noctiva—your art genuinely inspired me and gave me the push I needed to return to my roots. Thank you for reigniting that spark.

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: soft dom!eyeless jack x fem!reader · doctor/patient dynamic, touch-starved · possessive but gentle · gothic erotica · slow burn, sensual horror · sensation play · sensory deprivation/overload · medical kink (clinical but intimate) · consent and safe words · touch-starved to overstimulated.

𝓌𝒸: 16.1k

Teach me how to scream.

That’s all you think about. 

Not in the way a normal person might—in some moment of panic or ecstasy, laughter or fear—no, you think about it clinically, with the same cold curiosity you apply to everything else in your life. You wonder what it takes to break a person.

 To tear down the wall of composure and discipline and professionalism until all that’s left is something raw and visceral—a sound dragged from the deepest part of the chest. Screaming seems... liberating. 

You’ve forgotten what it feels like.

Your apartment is a minimalist tomb, quiet and sterile. The walls are a tired white, barely catching any of the moonlight that slips between the blinds like skeletal fingers. 

Textbooks line your desk in tall, uneven stacks, some with cracked spines from overuse, others still pristine, untouched. Highlighters bleed neon colors into pages already carved with notes in your tight, mechanical handwriting. 

It smells like tea and ink and the exhaustion of someone who doesn’t even know they’re lonely anymore.

You’re a medical student. Top of your class. On a full scholarship, too—the kind of golden ticket people envy you for. 

Smart, capable, diligent. 

You’ve heard all the praise, the admiration. But it doesn’t change the fact that your nights are hollow, your days are repetitive, and your sense of wonder—that spark that once made you dream of saving lives—has slowly been reduced to a clinical grind. 

Autopilot. Wake, study, eat something microwaved, maybe sleep. Repeat.

Everyone thinks you have it easy because you’re not drowning in debt. However, you are drowning—just in a quieter way. No one sees it. No one asks. You’re the kind of person people assume will be fine. Always fine. 

You’ve become a ghost in your own life, watching your twenties dissolve beneath the harsh fluorescence of hospital lights and the dry rustle of textbook pages. 

You are a phantom that drifts from lecture hall to lab, stethoscope in hand, caffeine in veins, and nothing behind the eyes but tired calculation. It’s a life of purpose on paper—of accolades, scholarships, and prestige—but beneath it all, you are starving. 

Hollow. And you know it.

The worst part?

It killed your sex drive.

Not just dulled it. Not just reduced it to some manageable inconvenience like a missed meal or a skipped nap. It erased it—surgically, completely, like a tumor you didn’t realize had been excised until you tried to reach for it and found only scar tissue. 

There’s even a phrase your over-medicalized brain can’t help but conjure: lateralized sexual arousal suppression—a clinical concept you read once in a study, the theory that arousal, that raw hormonal ache, can be selectively deadened by stress or imbalance, sometimes even felt more intensely on one side of the body than the other. 

You chuckled at the time, because God, that’s such a pathetic thing to be academic about—your own inability to get off.

You were reading some obscure psych journal at 3 a.m., probably during a breakdown disguised as “studying,” and there it was: an article on how chronic stress can suppress arousal, kill libido, even change how your brain registers pleasure. Real clinical stuff. 

They called it “situational anorgasmia” and “arousal fatigue”—fancy words for why you, a perfectly functional adult with a pulse, haven’t been able to cum since your first anatomy midterm.

You’ve tried. Of course, you’ve tried. 

You brought toys—not just the cheap, pastel-colored ones from those random Amazon hauls, either. No, you went full send. Bought the ones your roommate back in undergrad swore by. 

She was the type who talked about orgasms like she had a PhD in them—complete with charts, reviews, and the occasional TED Talk. If anyone knew how to chase the Big O in times of crisis, it was her. You thought maybe she'd unlocked the secret. 

Maybe it was you who was broken. 

Well… Turns out it was you. 

Because even the expensive, silicone-coated sorcery with six vibration settings and a glowing LED couldn’t do it. Nothing worked. It was like flipping switches in an abandoned building—the power was out, the lights were dead, and everything inside was covered in a spiritual layer of dust and depression. 

Your hands don’t even feel like yours anymore. Just more tools. Instruments. Like forceps. No pleasure, no spark, no warm shiver of release. Just... effort. Awkward, humiliating, mechanical effort.

You used to call it self-care. Now it just feels like CPR on a corpse.

So you gave up.

You told yourself you didn’t want it anyway. What’s the point of craving something you can’t feel? You’ve got a million flashcards to memorize, patients to shadow, vitals to record, and whatever grim flavor of instant noodles waiting for you in your pantry. Sexual frustration doesn’t even rank on the priority list anymore. 

It’s been outpaced by exhaustion, caffeine withdrawal, and your mysterious recurring knee pain. You are one bad week away from becoming a cryptid.

But the silence? The silence is getting heavier.

It presses into you at night like a second set of lungs, breathing damp and slow against your ribs. There’s something waking up inside you—an ache, not sexual exactly, not yet, but primal. Hungry. Cold. 

You try to outwork it. 

You pile on more studying, more mock exams, more hospital shifts. But it’s still there. Whispering under the fluorescent lights. Nestled beneath your white coat and pressed dress shirts, buried under clinical detachment and years of overachievement.

And lately, that whisper has evolved into a gnawing.

You don’t know when it started. Just that it has. It lingers in the corners of your thoughts like a rotting tooth. It’s no longer about pleasure, about getting off, about orgasms or release. It’s deeper than that. Darker. It’s about being provoked. Violated. Broken open. 

Something inside you is begging for rupture—not affection, not safety, but something raw. Violent. Real.

You want to be dismantled. Undone. Taken apart in ways that anatomy textbooks don’t cover. Not by gentle hands. By something sharp. Something relentless. You need to be reminded that you’re not just flesh wrapped around ambition. That your blood still runs hot. That you are more than a breathing corpse in scrubs.

You need to get off. Badly.

Again, not in the playful, flirty, "teehee I need a good dicking" kind of way—no. You were about three nights of sleep deprivation away from putting "Unable to orgasm due to academic rigor" on your medical records. 

If only you trusted your university’s counseling office not to slap it on your permanent file next to “burnout risk” and “excessive caffeine consumption.”

So you did something you hadn’t done in... what, months? You left your apartment. Took the train across town with a tote bag and the grim, resigned energy of someone preparing for emotional exposure.

You went go see Z—your old roommate from undergrad.

The one person you could talk to about this without getting put on some kind of watchlist.

Her apartment hadn’t changed—not even a little. It was still giving teenage dirtbag chic, as if Z had stolen the entire emotional atmosphere of a 2007 Tumblr blog and made it livable.

A lovechild between Hot Topic clearance racks and thrifted furniture from someone's cool aunt’s garage sale. You were greeted by the scent of jasmine incense, old vinyl, and something vaguely burnt—maybe toast??

The walls were still a shrine to Z’s unapologetic chaos—plastered in band posters that had definitely survived multiple apartment moves and at least one questionable phase involving safety pins and eyeliner as a personality trait.

A twisted line of mismatched fairy lights looped across the ceiling, dangling lazily like drunk neurons on their last spark of function, simply blinking intermittently in faint hues of dying neon green, casting soft, ghostly shapes that danced along the cluttered walls.

The blinds were obnoxiously open—wide, tauntingly so. Sunlight poured in with a kind of aggression, spilling across the hardwood floors and highlighting every fleck of dust, every stray sock, every single reminder that someone actually lived here. 

You squinted at it like it had personally insulted you. 

Honestly, you couldn’t remember the last time you saw real daylight that wasn’t filtered through hospital-tinted windows or the flicker of your laptop at 3 a.m. Your body recoiled from it instinctively, as if your med school-induced vampirism couldn’t withstand such unfiltered natural cheer.

Your tea—which Z handed you with that smug little curve of her lips —tasted faintly of lemon and betrayal. Warm, sharp, slightly too sweet. You suspected she put honey in it just to mock your bitterness. 

She sipped her own casually, lounging in what could only be described as her throne of chaos: a nest of cushions, blankets, and plushies that looked. Her legs were draped dramatically over the armrest, her socks were chicken legs?

You, by contrast, sat rigidly on the couch like it might bite you if you leaned too far back. Your shoulders were hunched slightly, as if trying to fold into yourself, to shrink down and disappear into the muted fabric. 

Z raised an eyebrow, already halfway to a grin, her lips twitching like the punchline was burning a hole in her mouth. You could almost hear it loading—the way her brain clicked into gear when she had a roast lined up and ready to go. 

You didn’t need to see her eyes to know she was aiming.

And God, you already regretted bringing it up.

“You actually came,” she started with a shit-eating grin. “You? Miss White Coat? Miss I-Diagnose-Myself-With-Insomnia-Not-Feelings? This is serious.”

You glared. “Z, for the love of God, stop laughing. You know this is an ongoing issue.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would get worse.” She snorted, barely containing her laughter. “Girl, you probably need medical help.”

“I am medical help.”

She cackled, clutching her chest. “Oh my God, you’re a walking irony.”

You sank further into the couch, drawing your knees up like a sulking cat. “Do you know how embarrassing it is for a med student to need a clinical intervention because she can’t orgasm? It’s humiliating. I'm supposed to be helping people, not... lying awake at 2 a.m. wondering if I died inside during second-year pathology.”

“Honestly?” she leaned forward, stirring her tea lazily. “Maybe you did. Maybe med school killed your libido and buried it under a pile of medical flashcards.”

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m a disgrace to the human reproductive system.”

Z sipped her tea, watching you with that predator’s smirk she always wore when she knew something you didn’t. “Or maybe...” she said slowly, “what you really need... is for something else to do it for you.”

You paused. Lowered your hands. Narrowed your eyes at her like a suspicious cat. “Well, obviously not you.”

“Please.” She scoffed. “I’m flattered but not deranged.”

“Right,” you muttered, sipping your tea just to avoid eye contact. “Totally. Of course.”

The conversation fizzled into one of those awkwardly familiar silences — not the comfortable kind where two people just exist, but the kind where something unspoken hangs in the air, unacknowledged but dense. 

Z picked up her phone and started scrolling absently, her fingers flicking across the screen with the kind of speed that said she was pretending to be disinterested.

You followed suit, sipping your tea like it didn’t feel like your skin was trying to crawl off your bones. The clink of your spoon against the inside of your cup was the only sound besides the occasional buzz of her phone.

Her eyes kept drifting back to you, though. Subtle, but you noticed. A glance too long. A flicker of something behind her lashes—amusement, maybe, or curiosity. Or something sharper.

You glanced up, caught her staring. “What?”

Z didn’t answer right away. She leaned back into the pillow throne like a queen about to issue a decree, her phone now forgotten on the coffee table. The soft lights above flickered green, briefly bathing her in something eerie, ethereal.

Then she said, too casually, like she wasn’t about to ruin your whole evening: “There are things out there, you know. Stuff that could probably wake you up.”

You raised a brow, deadpan. “What, like... therapy?”

She grinned over the rim of her mug like the devil sipping tea. “Possibly, babe. If it's been this long, it might be time to admit you need more than a bubble bath and a vibrator with a college degree.”

You snorted. “Wow. Thank you for that incredibly professional medical insight, Dr. Z.”

“Anytime,” she said sweetly, already scrolling on her phone like she hadn’t just diagnosed you with ‘clinical dicklessness.’ “But for real. I found this ad a while back. Weird little flyer. Some guy left it on the bathroom sink at the club—”

You blinked. “Wait. You still go to ‘the club’?” You added dramatic finger quotes like you were talking about some ancient cryptid.

Z didn’t even flinch. Gave you a flat look, her eyes wide with mock betrayal. “Uh, yes? What do you think I do for stress relief? Knit?”

You groaned and collapsed further into the couch cushions. “God, you are still the same chaotic goblin I met in college.”

She grinned, smug as sin. “And yet here you are, begging the goblin for help because you can’t even get your engine to rev. Who’s the tragic one now?”

You look away and took another sip of your lemon-betrayal tea and muttered, “Me. It’s me. I’m the tragic one.”

“That’s right.” She sighed,  “Anyway. This flyer. It was handwritten, almost cryptic. Said something about off-the-record consultations. No names. No appointments. Just... results. Kind of urban legend-y, honestly. But people talk. Especially at clubs. And from what I’ve heard, this... doctor... isn’t your typical back-alley quack.”

You stared at her. “Z. Did you seriously consider going to some random off-the-grid sex doctor?”

Z shrugged, grinning wickedly. “I considered it. Haven’t done it yet. Thought I’d let you be the brave one, since, y’know... you’re the actual med student.”

You scoffed, pulling the most odd-looking facial expression, setting your mug down a little too loudly on the table. “Why me? What made you think of me when you saw some creep’s sex clinic ad?”

Her smirk faltered just a little. “Because I know you. And I know when you’ve gone full medical-grade emotionally constipated. Babe, it’s like watching a Roomba try to find joy. You need something that’ll slap the soul back into you.”

You went quiet. Embarrassed. Maybe a little pissed. 

You weren’t used to people seeing through the cracks—not the ones you spent so much time spackling over with caffeine and credentials. But she wasn’t wrong.

“And no,” she added quickly, “I’d never throw you into something shady without at least vetting it first. You know that. I’m not an idiot.”

You looked down at your lap. Your fingers toyed with the hem of your sleeve. “It’s just... weird, you know? I’m a med student. I should be able to fix myself. Not—go off seeking weird underground therapy from club bathroom flyers like I’m in a Netflix special.”

Z snorted, nearly choking on her tea. “Yeah, well. Sometimes it takes weird to fix weird. And unless you’re ready to walk into your clinical psych rotation and say, ‘Hey, I can’t cum and I think my soul’s in a coma,’ this might be your last option that doesn’t come with a straightjacket and a mandatory 72-hour hold.”

You made a face, but… yeah. She had a point. 

A mortifying, scarily accurate point.

You didn’t like the idea—some strange, off-market “doctor” discovered via bathroom flyer in a club known for bad decisions and worse lighting. But God help you, you were actually considering it. Really considering it.

Because the thought of another week—hell, another month—of being this empty husk of a human, this walking flesh-printer spewing out diagnoses and memorizing mortality rates with all the excitement of a houseplant?

No. You couldn’t keep doing this.

So you made the appointment.

After classes—after trudging through another mind-numbing lecture on autoimmune disorders and scribbling down notes with a highlighter you’d long since stopped seeing color in—you sat down and filled out the form.

The website had looked… normal.?? Professional, even.

A minimalist black/dark blue-and-white layout, vague clinical language, and a discreet little logo that looked almost like a mask. You didn’t think much of it at the time.

The questionnaire started like every other patient intake form—name, birthdate, gender. But then there was something else. A line that didn’t make sense. Not in this context.

“Do you fear what watches you when you sleep?”

You paused, eyes narrowing slightly. Weird question. Probably one of those psych-eval icebreakers. You ticked off another box and kept going, ignoring the pressure that had begun to build in your throat. This was probably nothing. Some edgy branding tactic. Experimental therapy, maybe. Trauma work in a spooky coat of paint. 

That’s all it was.

You submitted the form. 

Ten minutes later, your phone buzzed with a confirmation and a location that didn’t show up on Google Maps.

Of course it didn’t.

That night, sleep came reluctantly, like a reluctant houseguest knocking on your door well past midnight, and you only let it in because you had nothing better to do.

After a fresh shower, you dress in t-shit with shorts, collapse onto your bed with all the grace of a corpse being dropped into its grave. The air in your apartment felt stagnant—thick and unmoving—like it hadn’t been touched by breath or sound in days. Maybe weeks.

The only light was the faint, glitched glow of your laptop in sleep mode, pulsing like a dying heartbeat. Your limbs felt heavy. Weighted. Your thoughts, even heavier. Again, you’d submitted the form hours ago. 

And now you can’t stop thinking about that line. 

“Fear? What watches me when I sleep?” 

You swallowed and rolled onto your side, burying your face into the pillow that still smelled vaguely of antiseptic hand cream and stress. For a while, nothing came. No dreams. No darkness. Just silence. But eventually, slowly, the world began to slip sideways.

At first, it felt like floating—like your bones had been scooped out of you and replaced with warm fog. The room was no longer your room. Not quite. The shadows were wrong—longer than they should be, bending around corners that didn’t exist. Your bed felt deeper, like a divot in the earth, and the air was… comforting. 

Invasive, somehow, but soft. Almost maternal.

You couldn’t move. You didn’t want to move.

And then came the touch.

It wasn’t hands. Not really. Not at first. More like heat. Pressure. A sensation that ghosted over your skin, just enough to make you shiver.

Something brushed your ankle. Light. Curious. Your breath hitched.

Another drifted along the curve of your calf. Up. Higher. Not aggressive. Not rough. Just… deliberate. As though the air itself had grown fingers and was now reading you like braille. Like it knew you. Had always known you.

Your hips twitched, and you felt it—just beneath the surface of your skin—a dull, yawning ache that had been locked away for too long. That absence. That void. You hadn’t even realized how deeply you’d buried your hunger. Your need.

The touch glided higher, a whisper along the meat of your thigh, a reverent sweep that left goosebumps in its wake. It wasn’t sexual. Not entirely. Not yet. But it was intimate. Intrusive in a way that felt oddly safe, like the firm hand of something old guiding you through a ritual you’d forgotten the words to.

You should have been terrified.

But you weren’t.

Your breath came shallower. Your heart picked up. And for the first time in months—years—you felt something: warmth. Thrum. Longing. 

The phantom touch curved under the hem of your hoodie, feathering up your stomach. It pressed gently against the cage of your ribs like it was searching for a way inside. You arched instinctively, needing more. 

Needing anything.

There was a whisper. A sound. You couldn’t tell if it was in your ear or your bones. Soft, smooth—masculine, maybe—but in that ageless, unsettling way that made it impossible to pin down.

“Let me ruin you.” 

Your breath caught.

It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. The words dripped like honey laced with venom—intimate, feral, promising. They bypassed your ears and curled straight into your gut, igniting something molten at your core. Your thighs pressed together on instinct. Your fingers curled into the sheets like you could anchor yourself against a flood.

It wasn’t a question. It was an invitation. A threat. A vow.

Your body bucked as heat flashed through you like a short-circuit, static and dizzying and almost holy. It wasn't released. Not yet. But it was the promise of it. The threat. And something inside you whispered back—without words, without thought—yes.

You gasped.

And then—you woke up.

Heart pounding like a war drum in your chest. Skin slick with sweat, sticking to your sheets in places you didn’t even know could sweat. Your thighs were clenched like you’d just braced through an earthquake—or maybe something far more intimate. The sheets coiled around your legs, your waist, one arm — as if you’d been grasping in your sleep. Or writhing.

You lay there, dazed. Breathing shallow. Eyes wide as the fragmented edges of some half-dream shimmered just out of reach, teasing your thoughts with phantom touches and shapes you couldn’t quite pin down. But your body remembered.

Oh, it remembered.

The morning light creeping in through the blinds was soft and gray, casting everything in shades of faded silver. It wasn’t warm. It was the kind of light that followed unsettling dreams — like the lingering taste of ash and honey on your tongue.

You sat up slowly. Each movement felt like an echo.

Something had changed.

A circuit, somewhere inside you, had quietly reconnected. A wire long-burnt out had sparked again. You didn’t know how, or why, but your whole body pulsed with a strange awareness. Your skin buzzed. The air felt too sharp, like the molecules themselves were brushing too close against you. You ran your palm along your own arm—it felt like someone else’s skin. 

Someone new. Something not quite… human.

You weren’t sure whether to be thrilled or terrified.

A sharp laugh escaped you—short, stunned, breathless. You wiped a shaky hand down your face, your skin still tingling like it had been touched by something you couldn’t name. "What the hell…" you muttered to no one, voice hushed in the muted blue-gray light filtering through the blinds.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever, your body wasn’t numb.

It ached. It buzzed.

You were horny. And maybe—just maybe—haunted.

Not the jump-scare, crawling-out-of-your-TV kind. No. This was subtler. Seductive. Like something ghostlike had struck a match down your spine and whispered promises to your bones.

You sighed, rubbing your temples.

Then your eyes flicked to your phone screen. Shit.

You jolted upright, the weight of time slamming into your chest. Adrenaline took the wheel. The sheets slipped off your legs as you stumbled toward your dresser, still half-lost in the fog of sleep—or whatever strange thing had wrapped itself around your dreams.

You moved on instinct, grabbing whatever felt softest, lightest, least constraining. You slipped into an asymmetric maxi skirt that flowed around your legs like smoke, streaked in midnight blue and obsidian black. It cinched at your waist with a simple circle leather belt, the buckle cool against your stomach. A cropped top followed—loose, gauzy, a whisper of fabric more than a shirt. Air moved through it easily, kissing your skin.

You looked… casual? A little lost, maybe.

The kind of outfit that felt like something you could disappear in without a sound. Your fingers fumbling, you pushed your hair back, unlocked your phone, and typed with sharp, quick taps:

You: Location shared. Dropped off at that creepy butcher shop you told me about. If I’m not out in an hour, call the cops. Seriously.

The reply came almost instantly:

Z: "Roger that, orgasm-crisis queen 💋"

“Bitch,” you muttered, rolling your eyes with a reluctant smirk. You didn’t text back. You didn’t need to.

You were quick to reach the building was everything your gut told you to avoid. Normal. Painfully, strategically normal. It sat like a tumor on the edge of the block—red-brick exterior faded from years of sun and smog, windows that reflected nothing, and a crooked sign over the door that read “Balkan Meats & Cold Cuts” in peeling paint.

 A rusted awning flapped listlessly in the breeze, and somewhere inside, the thick metallic scent of iron and brine curled into your sinuses. It smelled like blood that had soaked too deep into tile.

You didn’t see a sign for a clinic. You didn’t expect one.

Your eyes scanned the side of the building until you spotted the narrow stairwell half-hidden beside a dumpster. You hesitated only once before climbing, hand gliding over the sticky, warm metal of the rail. Above, a flickering bulb buzzed like a trapped wasp, casting shadows that moved just a little too much.

When you reached the landing, everything went quiet.

Unnaturally quiet.

The hallway was narrow and sterile—painted beige so aggressively dull it made your teeth itch. No music. No voices. Just the electric hum of fluorescent lighting and your own pulse, thudding loud in your ears.

You found the door at the end. Plain metal. No placard. No name. Just a tarnished silver handle. You stared at it for a moment, fingers hovering near the knob, chest tight. Every inch of your rational brain screamed to leave. But you were tired of being rational. Rational hadn’t helped. 

So you opened the door.

The room inside was quiet. Still. Too still.

There were three mismatched chairs—one metal, one wood, one soft and threadbare like it came from someone’s grandmother’s house. A water dispenser stood lonely in the corner, full but with no cups, like a trick. A desk stood at the far wall—paper neatly stacked, everything aligned with almost religious care—but there was no monitor, no receptionist, no phone.

The silence wasn’t empty. It was waiting.

You took a cautious step inside. Your shoes made the faintest sound against the polished floor. You moved around the desk, squinting for some kind of bell, clipboard, sign of life.

And that’s when you felt it.

The breath, soft and warm against the nape of your neck. The presence, solid and sudden behind you—too close. A chest. Firm. Immovable. Pressed just a whisper from your back. 

You froze. Every muscle in your body pulled taut.

“You have appointment?”

The voice was low, deep, and smooth, and somehow casually clinical. But what rattled you most was how he’d arrived—soundless, like he’d stepped out of the air itself. You spun around, heart in your throat.

And there he was.

Moving toward you with the kind of quiet purpose that didn’t demand attention—it consumed it.

Dressed in layered blacks so matte they seemed to drink in the light, he walked like the air parted for him out of habit, each step slow, deliberate, respectful in a way that somehow felt more unsettling than if he’d stormed in. His presence didn’t crash—it settled, like dusk creeping in unnoticed.

He was tall. Towering, almost. But not in a way that screamed dominance—it was more architectural. Like he belonged in old cathedrals or under moonlight, not in this oddly quiet waiting room above a butcher shop. His build was lean but sharp-edged, tailored by something too precise to be simply "fit."

His hair was a mess of deep brown waves, slightly tousled like he’d forgotten he had it. Strands fell across the top edge of his black surgical mask, softening the austere lines of his outfit.

And then—his eyes. His. eyes.

No whites. No pupils. No clear edges or irises. Just obsidian pools so deep they looked like if you stared too long, they’d start staring back. They weren’t dead or hollow—they shimmered faintly in the overhead fluorescents, alive with something too exact, too alert. It was like he wasn’t looking at you, he was measuring you.

Then the ears. It took a second glance to really process them—subtly pointed, the kind of detail your mind initially dismissed as a trick of the light. Delicate but wrong in the way that made fairy tales dangerous. Piercings traced their way up the cartilage, tiny silver hoops and bars arranged not for fashion, but like some strange celestial map. 

His skin was smooth, cool-toned—grayish, yes, but in a way that reminded you of marble, not illness. Preserved. Not decayed. A color that made your brain second-guess itself.

He stopped a careful distance from you, his height folding slightly as he inclined his head. Not deferential, not patronizing—just polite. Attuned. Like a creature who’d spent centuries perfecting human etiquette without ever being human himself.

Instinct made you step back. Your breath caught.

“Holy shit,” you blurted. “Do you have… Argyria?”

He tilted his head, a frown ghosting across his face like he was trying to compute the question. “No,” he said after a moment, voice low, textured. Almost soothing. “I do not.”

Then his eyes roamed you—slow, thoughtful, clinical. Not with desire, not with threat—like he was unpacking a file only he could read. His gaze wasn’t the kind that undressed you. It unspooled you.

He made a soft sound in the back of his throat. “You’re a medical student, yes?”

You froze. “How do you—?”

He walked past you, each step soft and unnervingly quiet, rounding the desk with a smooth turn of his shoulder. His fingers brushed the desk surface like he was orienting himself with muscle memory.

“You carry yourself like someone who’s trained their exhaustion into structure,” he said, more to the desk than to you. “Your posture is clinical. Your eyes never stop scanning. Slight tremor in the left hand suggests chronic overextension. Pair that with the guarded breathing, the subtle shift in weight when approached from behind—textbook hypervigilance.”

He turned back to face you. His eyes locked with yours again.

“Your libido is comatose, yes?”

You blinked. “What—”

“And you smell faintly of herbs,” he added, softly, “something floral beneath the surface. Artificial, like a cheap perfume meant to disguise the real scent. Something sweet, desperate. Useful.”

You stood, stunned into silence.

Every nerve in your body was ringing like it had been plucked. What the actual hell had you just walked into? And why, despite all logic, did it feel like... exactly where you were supposed to be?

The man moved without a word, extending one long arm past the threshold to open a nondescript door tucked into the hallway’s end. The hinges didn’t creak—they glided, soundlessly. The room inside was dimly lit but strangely warm, nothing like the cold sterility of the corridor. 

At first glance, it looked like a therapist’s office—or some vague approximation of one. Two chairs sat opposite each other: high-backed, dark fabric, a bit too clean, a bit too deliberate in their placement. 

Potted plants softened the corners—large-leafed, thriving, well-watered. The air held a faint scent of petrichor and sage. It was subtle, like the room had been exhaling while no one was there. The walls held a few certificates, two diplomas, and a clock.

You noticed that immediately. 

Again, everything was too clean. Not clinical—but manicured. Controlled. As though someone had designed this space not for comfort, but for ease of disarmament. You stepped closer, the doorway framing you. But your feet hesitated. Something primal, buried, and clawed screamed softly inside your chest. A warning. That if you stepped into that room, if your foot crossed that threshold… it wouldn’t be just your body walking in.

You swallowed. Hard.

The man leaned against the doorframe now, arms crossed, his presence still and observant. Watching, not pushing. He didn’t coax you. Didn’t rush you. His voice came soft, measured:

“It’s professional. I assure you.”

You met his gaze—those endless black eyes—and didn’t see a lie. But you didn’t see the truth either. Just… depth. He glanced away, absently brushing a loose curl from his temple. “When did you find my card?”

Your lips twitched. “Friend gave it to me,” you said, fingers quoting air. “Claim they found it at the ‘club’ they frequent.” 

That’s when his eyes widened slightly, his face lifting in something that looked like genuine amusement. He let out a low, rich chuckle, the sound curling through the quiet like smoke.

“Ah. That place.”

“You go there often?” you asked, curiosity sharpening to a point.

He straightened slowly, still smiling. “Now and then. Good for getting the word out. Not many people in your situation ask for help in… traditional places.”

You tilted your head, one brow raising. “And what exactly do you do?”

He seemed to pause—not for hesitation, but for precision. Like he was combing through a thousand possible answers and measuring which one wouldn’t make you walk away. Finally, he said: “I work with... bodily systems. Unblock pathways. Redirect energy. Reset patterns. Most of it is touch-based. Topical. Very specific. Not mainstream. But it’s effective.”

You frowned. That was vague enough to mean anything from chiropractic therapy to illicit back-alley sorcery.

“You’re a medical student too?” you asked, more defensively than intended.

He hummed. “Was. For a time.” A pause. “Now I work to pay off the debts.”

Then he gave a slow tilt of his head. “And before we begin, I should mention—my sessions aren’t exactly cheap.”

His eyes glinted faintly.

“Still willing to go through with this?”

You stood, heart somewhere between your throat and your spine. Your body still thrummed from the dream, from the walk, from him. This wasn’t sane. This wasn’t rational. But then again, neither was what was happening to you.

You sighed—the long, tired kind of sigh that sounded like it had aged a decade on its way out. Truth be told, you really didn’t want to leave without getting something resolved. Not after dragging yourself through the iron-scented meat shop, past the flickering stairwell light, and into this strange little time vacuum of a room.

“If I come out dead, I come out dead,” you muttered, more to yourself than him, as you finally stepped forward. “It’s not like I’m missing brunch with a life coach.”

This was, in some weird, macabre way, the most interesting thing to happen to you in months. Hell, maybe years. If you were going to spiral, might as well do it with a little flair and mystery. You squared your shoulders, glanced back at the man, and with the enthusiasm of someone marching into a mild haunting, said: “Alright.”

He hummed—soft, approving, almost like a cat that had just seen you pick up its favorite toy—and stepped aside to let you pass. As you entered, the smell of the room shifted again, warmer now, like bergamot and dry cedar, grounded and oddly calming.

The door clicked shut behind you. A little too gently. 

He gestured toward one of the chairs. “Have a seat.”

You chose the one that didn’t face the door—a risk, but also felt like a test—and he slid into the opposite chair with ease. Just fluid motion, like gravity, took him differently than it took everyone else. From a side drawer built into the table, he pulled out a clipboard and a pen. The scratch of it echoed a little too loudly in the stillness.

He looked up at you, eyes glittering darkly. “Before we begin, let’s do a quick intake.”

You blinked. “Didn’t I already fill that out online?”

“Yes,” he replied without looking up. “But this is more for me. A… recap.”

You raised a brow. “So you’re giving me a pop quiz on my own trauma?”

“I find it helps to speak it aloud,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Clarifies intent. Filters out exaggeration. Or embellishment.”

You exhaled slowly. “Alright then.” You tapped your fingers against your knee, pausing before letting the words tumble out. “My issue is… weird.”

He didn’t blink. Just nodded, as if “weird” was his mother tongue.

You hesitated again. “Like, I don’t know if it’s physical or psychological. But I wake up… not exactly aroused, but like my body thinks it is. Except there’s no—” You made a vague, circular gesture. “No stimulation. No dreams I can recall. Just this… residue. Like my nervous system got love-bombed by a ghost.”

He blinked once. Still quiet.

“And I can’t concentrate. Nor get off as I want to for stress relief. Everything’s wired wrong. I feel like a haunted, but emotionally detached.”

The corner of his eye twitched. 

You swore—swore—that might’ve been a smirk.

He scribbled something down. “Interesting.”

You exhaled through your nose, slowly, one eyebrow arching with muted skepticism. Of course. Still, you weren’t here to play games. Not too many, at least. “So?” you said, his name careful on your tongue. You looked away for a second, then met his eyes again, sharper this time. “How do I fix my issue? What is it exactly? What do you think’s going on?”

He nodded once, slow and deliberate, and set the clipboard aside with a soft clatter against the side table. “Anorgasmia,” The man said, as if the word wasn’t something that could make you want to melt into the floor. 

He leaned back slightly in his chair, hands folded—long fingers, clean nails, veins just barely visible under that unnervingly smooth, pale skin. “Specifically, it sounds like you’re experiencing Female Orgasmic Disorder. Acquired, generalized. Based on what you put in your intake and your… reaction, I’d guess it’s been ongoing for more than six months, right?”

You blinked, hard, then nodded. That clinical delivery should’ve felt sterile, cold. It didn’t. His voice was low, textured. Intimate without trying to be. And God help you, it was kind of hot. You couldn’t tell if it was his confidence or his complete lack of awkwardness when talking about something that made you want to crawl out of your skin—but it worked. 

You were listening, hanging off each word. 

Your eyes narrowed slightly, involuntarily tracing the line of his throat to where his collar rested—loose black, matte fabric, something tactical and breathable. His posture was perfect: relaxed but with intention. He didn’t fidget. He didn’t blink too often. There was a heaviness to him, a quiet focus that made you feel pinned, studied… and not in a way that made you want to leave. Damn it.

“So basically,” you said dryly, forcing your gaze back up to his face, “my vagina’s in a coma.”

He cracked a brief, silent laugh through his nose—lips curling just slightly beneath the mask. “That’s one way to put it.”

“And you’re telling me the solution is…” You hesitated, bracing. “To build sensations back up?”

“Yes.” He said it simply, without any waver. 

“That’s the starting point, at least. If you were hoping for a prescription or an easy out, I’m afraid there isn’t one. There’s no single medication that resolves this. At best, there are supplements that might help increase blood flow or sensitivity, but they’re not proven. What you need is guided stimulation therapy—Sensate Focus, gradual reintroduction of arousal, maybe eventually partnered techniques—”

You cut him off, “You sound like you’re assigning more homework than I already have to deal with on a daily basis,” you muttered, cheeks heating. “Just with more nudity.”

That earned another small smirk. “Only if you’re an overachiever.”

Oof. You groaned into your hands. “Oh my god.”

He continued, not unkindly. “You’re not broken. This is more common than most people think. Stress, medical trauma, interpersonal issues… and in your case, high-functioning academic burnout. You’ve been so focused on achieving, suppressing, managing everything, that your nervous system no longer registers pleasure as safe or worth prioritizing.”

You blinked, stunned. “I—I didn’t even say—how do you—”

The man tilted his head slightly. “Again, you carry exhaustion like armor. And guilt. You intellectualize your body instead of inhabiting it.”

You didn’t respond right away. Your throat felt tight.

“And…” he added, tone dipping lower as his eyes flicked over your face, “you haven’t had the time. Or the space. Or the kind of partner who asks you to stay in the moment.”

You swallowed thickly. “…So what now?”

“Now?” he said, gently. “We start small. Sessions like this. Focused touch. Retraining your response system. Making your body feel safe again.”

You felt your fingers twitch in your lap, not sure whether to bolt or laugh or just melt into the chair. Then, because you needed to feel like you had some control, you leaned back, folded your arms, and asked, “And before we go further… are you gonna tell me your name? Or am I just supposed to keep calling you Tall, Dark, and Mildly Threatening?”

That finally cracked something. His smirk deepened, the smallest glint of teeth visible behind the mask.

“You can call me Jack.”

You raised a brow. “…Just Jack?”

He tilted his head, eyes glittering like obsidian in the low light. “For now.”

“…So, Jack,” you said, dragging his name out with a hint of sarcasm, “you do this often? Therapize poor souls out of their orgasmless despair?”

Jack leaned forward, just slightly. “Only the .” He said as he stood smoothly, setting the clipboard aside with practiced ease, and gestured for you to follow him. 

You did—hesitantly at first—rising from the stiff chair and trailing after him as he crossed the hall and unlocked another door with a soft click. When he pushed it open, the first thing to hit you was the warmth.

The lighting was low and amber, diffused through soft bulbs hidden behind velvet-draped sconces. The space smelled faintly of cedarwood and something sweet you couldn’t quite place—almost like jasmine. 

It was… not what you expected. At all. You’d prepared yourself for a clinical space, something sterile or weirdly kinky, but this room?

It was intimate. Luxurious, almost. 

Rich textures blanketed every surface: soft velvets, high-thread count cotton, brushed suede. The walls were painted a deep, dusky blue that made the shadows look heavier, closer.

A plush bed with dark sheets dominated one side of the room, framed by heavy curtains and stacked pillows in earthy tones. There were other touches too—soft rugs layered beneath your feet, a tray of water and mints, tissues neatly folded. A single mirror, gold-framed and slightly fogged, leaned in the corner.

And then there was the chair.

It looked like something halfway between a modern art sculpture and a spaceship seat—sleek, curved, contoured like it had been made to cradle someone. It was upholstered in black leather with subtle seams and built-in supports.  Strange as it was, it didn’t feel perverse. Not cheesy or tacky.

It was… functional. Designed. Like everything else in this room.

Jack gestured toward it casually, like it wasn’t anything to raise an eyebrow over. “That,” he said, “is a sensual lounge chair. Enhanced positioning. For alignment, breath regulation, deeper physical feedback.”

Your stomach flipped again. Christ.

He turned toward a cabinet and pulled out another clipboard, this one thicker than the first, and handed it to you. “Before we go further,” he said, “you’ll need to sign this waiver. Standard practice. And—” he paused, meeting your eyes with that intense calm—“we’ll need a safe word.”

You blinked. “A safe word?”

Jack nodded, leaning back against the counter, hands folded loosely in front of him. “Yes. My sessions—whatever form they take—require that the patient always feels in control. If, at any moment, you feel unsafe or overwhelmed, you use it. No questions asked. Everything stops.”

That… wasn’t what you expected. For someone who looked like the personification of a Victorian ghost with resting murder face, he was oddly considerate. Thorough.

“And,” he continued, “you should also indicate if there are any areas of your body you don’t want touched—or if touch in general is an issue.”

You hesitated. Jack watched your silence carefully.

“I’m… not exactly comfortable being touched,” you admitted, voice lower now, unsure. “Not really.”

He tilted his head, brow faintly furrowed. “As in, discomfort from trauma or—?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never… been touched. At least by someone that’s not me. I’ve tried. It just—never worked. Nothing felt… real. Or good. I don’t think I’ve ever had an actual orgasm. And it’s not like I even want sex, really. I just—” You exhaled, rubbing your temple. “—use it to sleep. For stress relief. However there’s never been feeling.”

Jack didn’t speak right away. His gaze didn’t shift, but it softened—just slightly. He stepped forward, retrieving the clipboard gently from your hands and flipping through your answers with quiet focus.

“I see,” he murmured eventually. “That’s… unusual. Not unheard of, but rare. You’re likely dealing with a variant of the Disorder. Possibly psychogenic anorgasmia, possibly neurochemical. But your phrasing—never felt real, never wanted—it’s more complex.”

You nodded, arms crossed tightly. You felt vaguely ridiculous standing in a velvet sex room, discussing the void that lived between your thighs with someone who looked like a cursed Renaissance painting. But oddly enough… you didn’t feel judged.

Jack reached for a pen, jotting something down. Then, after a moment of consideration, he looked up. “I’m registering you as a special case,” he said simply. “Again, we’ll go slow. No expectations. No pressure. Just sensation. Understanding. Rebuilding the pathway.”

Your breath caught. Despite yourself, your eyes drifted over him again—his posture, the quiet precision of his movements, the way his sleeves had pushed up just slightly at the forearms. 

Even the way he held the pen. God, even that was hot.

You cleared your throat. “And you’re… trained for this?”

That smirk again—barely there, but you caught it. “Let’s just say I’m highly practiced.”

You looked at the waiver. Then at him. Then, slowly, you picked up the pen.

“…What’s the safe word?” you asked.

He shrugged. “Your choice.”

You glanced around the room, then muttered, “Velvet.”

Jack nodded once, like it was sacred. “Velvet it is.”

Jack's hand lingered at the back of the chair, fingers grazing the leather as he gestured for you to sit. “Go ahead,” he said, his voice deep but even, “relax back, let it support you. It’s built for comfort.”

You eyed the chair, skeptical but curious. The leather was cool against the backs of your thighs as you slowly settled into it. Jack crouched beside you without a word and gently slid your bag from your shoulder, placing it neatly beside the chair like it deserved a designated resting place of its own.

He looked at you with quiet concentration, one hand resting on the edge of the seat. “May I touch you?” he asked.

There was something respectful in the way he said it—not hesitant, but patient. You gave a small nod, and he murmured, “Say it.”

“Yes,” you said, just above a whisper. “You can.”

He nodded in return, then reached up… and touched your ears? Your expression must have said ‘what the hell are you doing’, because Jack actually gave a soft huff of amusement under his breath. “There are over a dozen zones in the female body that can stimulate a neurological arousal response,” he said smoothly, his thumbs brushing gently around the outer edge of your ears. “Ears are one of the most overlooked.”

You blinked at him. There was no reaction. Nothing flared in your stomach or between your legs. You weren’t even sure it tickled. You just stared at him, flatly. Jack pulled his hands back, nodding to himself like he was taking mental notes.

“Alright. Not the ears.”

Next, he moved to your scalp, his fingers spreading through your hair with practiced ease. You expected it to feel awkward, maybe even clinical, but instead it was… gentle. Thoughtful. His fingertips pressed down just enough to release tension, circling at the base of your skull, following invisible patterns across your scalp.

Your eyes softened. Your breath evened. It didn’t arouse you—not in the way you feared or expected—but it felt good. Normal. Like something you hadn’t realized you’d needed.

Jack noticed, clearly. “Noted,” he murmured, withdrawing again. “Some feedback, not enough to trigger arousal. Good to know.”

He stepped around the chair, “The neck, then.”

When his fingers touched the back of your neck, it was subtle—almost like he was testing the current in a live wire. He barely pressed at all, and yet your entire body tensed beneath the surface like a ripple across still water. Your breath hitched.

Jack froze.

“…Interesting,” he muttered. “Odd tingle, but not necessarily pleasant?”

“It’s—” you started, but hesitated. “It’s something. I don’t know what.”

He gave a faint frown, filing that away. “Alright. Moving down.”

Then his fingers gently circled your inner wrists. You watched him as he focused—his brows slightly drawn, touch featherlight, like he was reading braille in your skin. “These are usually extremely responsive,” he said quietly. “Especially in individuals with dulled primary zones. The nerves are close to the surface here.”

You just stared at him. Nothing.

He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow. “Still nothing?” he asked.

You blinked. “Nothing.”

He gave a quiet exhale through his nose, but not out of frustration. Just… reassessment. “Okay,” he said. “Lower back next. The muscular network there is directly tied to your abdomen and pelvic floor. Sometimes, tension here bottlenecks sensation.”

His hand slid to your waist, firm but not invasive, and pressed into your lower back. The motion was a slow knead, thumbs working just beside your spine. A small breath escaped you—not from pleasure, exactly, but from release. It felt like something began to melt from your muscles. Like heat unfurling.

Jack stilled again. 

“Better,” he said. “Still not there. But… warming.”

You let out a low sound of agreement, your body leaning back more deeply into the curve of the chair. Your muscles weren’t buzzing, but they weren’t frozen either.

Jack stood upright, arms crossed loosely as he studied your posture, your breathing, every inch of your subdued response. “Shit… definitely a complex case,” he said, half to himself. “You have all the parts—just not the ignition.”

You quirked a brow up at him. “Are you calling me broken?”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No,” he said. “I’m calling you… locked. That’s different.”

You watched him. Even his frown was attractive—concentrated, thoughtful, not overdramatic. He wasn’t rattled. He was just… intrigued. Motivated. Somehow, that made the heat in the room just a little thicker.

Jack didn’t say anything right away. 

He watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable but not unkind. There was something unsettling in his stillness—something restrained. Like he was holding back more than just words. You sat on the edge of the chair, shoulders tense, knuckles pale as you clutched the armrests like they might anchor you in reality.

He crouched in front of you slowly, making sure not to invade your space too suddenly. Then, in that same low voice he always used when speaking seriously, he asked, “Would you feel safer if I guided you through the rest? Or would you prefer to take the lead?”

Your throat was dry, your thoughts in knots. “I don’t know what to do,” you admitted softly, hating the vulnerability in your voice.

He nodded, taking your words without judgment. “That’s alright. I’ll take care of the pacing,” he said. Then he stood and gently reached out a hand. 

“May I?”

The question hung between you, soft as a pulse. You glanced down at his outstretched hand—palm upturned, fingers slightly curled—then back to his face. His expression was unreadable in the dim light, but his eyes held yours with a quiet intensity. Not hunger, not impatience. Just waiting.

You swallowed, then placed your hand in his.

His grip was warm. Not the dry, clinical touch of a doctor, but something living—calluses you hadn’t noticed before brushed against your knuckles, subtle proof of hands that worked, that knew their own strength.

He guided you up carefully, his other hand lifting the clipboard from your lap with a precision that bordered on reverence. Every movement was deliberate, unhurried. Like he had all the time in the world.

"Would you be comfortable sitting on my lap?"

His voice was low, barely more than breath against your ear. The question shouldn’t have felt so intimate—not here, not like this—but something about the way he asked it, the way his thumb traced a slow arc over your wrist as he waited for your answer, made your stomach tighten.

You hesitated. 

Not from fear, but from the sheer strangeness of it. 

When was the last time someone had held you? Not for sex, not for comfort, but just—held you? The thought was almost embarrassing in its simplicity.

Yet you nodded.

Jack stepped back, settling onto the chair first. His posture was relaxed but controlled, thighs slightly parted to make space for you. He didn’t pull you down, didn’t rush. Just lifted his chin, watching you with those endless black eyes, and let you come to him.

You lowered yourself slowly, every nerve alight. The first brush of your back against his chest was electric—not from arousal, but from the sheer warmth of him. He was solid, real in a way that made your breath stutter. His arms came around your waist, not trapping, not demanding, just there. 

A steady weight. An anchor.

And then—his breath.

You hadn’t expected that. The slow, even rise and fall of his chest against your spine, the heat of his exhale skimming the nape of your neck. It was too much. Too close. Your own breathing was shallow, uneven, a frantic counterpoint to his calm.

"You’re safe."

His voice rumbled through you, deeper now that you were pressed against him. One hand rested lightly above your ribs, his palm a brand even through the fabric of your shirt. The other stayed at your side, thumb tracing idle circles over your hip. Not teasing. Not yet. Just… measuring.

"We’re going slow. All you have to do is exist here."

The words sank into your skin like a balm. Your shoulders dropped, your lungs expanding fully for what felt like the first time in months. 

The room came into focus around you—the faint scent of lavender and something darker, earthier, clinging to his clothes. The muted hum of a ceiling fan you hadn’t noticed before. The plush give of velvet beneath your fingertips where you’d gripped the armrest. And beneath it all, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

You closed your eyes.

For the first time in too long, you felt something.

"Just follow my hands." 

His voice was a murmur, barely louder than the brush of his thumbs along the slope of your neck. You shivered—not from the cold, but from the sheer attention of it. His hands were warm, palms broad enough to cradle the base of your skull as he worked slow circles into the tense cords of muscle there.

"Breathe," he reminded you, his lips grazing the shell of your ear.

You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath.

His touch trailed downward, following the curve of your spine, pausing at the dip between your shoulder blades. There was no hesitation in his movements, no fumbling—just the smooth, deliberate drag of skin against skin. When his fingers reached the hem of your shirt, he didn’t push. Didn’t assume. Just splayed his hands over your ribs and waited.

“You okay, there?”

You nodded, your "yes" escaping as a shaky exhale. 

His palms slid beneath the fabric, warm against the bare skin of your stomach. You tensed instinctively, but his grip tightened—not restraining, just steadying. "Easy," he soothed. "This isn’t about getting you off. It’s about learning how you react."

His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, so light it was almost teasing. You bit your lip, eyes fluttering shut as he traced the outer curves, mapping you with a patience that bordered on maddening.

Then—his fingers curled, lifting the fabric higher. Cool air kissed your skin as your shirt rucked up beneath your arms. You glanced down, watching as his hands dwarfed you, his fingers spanning the width of your ribcage.

"Jack—"

He stilled. "What’s wrong?"

You didn’t answer.

Instead, you grabbed his wrists, guiding his palms back to your chest. His breath hitched, but he didn’t resist. Let you press his hands flush against the soft swell of your breasts through your lace black bra, your nipples pebbling under the rough heat of his touch.

Your voice was thin, frayed at the edges. "Pinch them. Like I do when I—when I try to hurry."

A few seconds of silence. Then—

Jack laughed.

Not mocking, not cruel. A soft, breathless sound that vibrated through his chest and into yours. "That’s your problem, sweetheart," he murmured, his thumbs already circling your nipples with agonizing slowness. "You’re always in a rush."

You whined, hips shifting restlessly.

He ignored it. Just kept his touch featherlight, maddeningly gentle, even as you squirmed. "You don’t need to chase it," he chided, his voice dipping into something darker. "Let it come to you."

Then—finally—he gave you what you asked for. 

His fingers tightened, just shy of pain, and your back arched off his chest with a gasp. "There," he murmured, satisfied. "Now you’re listening." He simply grinned.

“Also, you came prepared."

His voice was low, amused, as his thumbs brushed the hem of your maxi skirt—dark fabric pooling around your hips where you sat straddling his lap. You stiffened slightly at the words, fingers twitching against his hands.

"What do you mean?" you asked, though the heat creeping up your neck already betrayed your understanding.

Jack didn’t answer right away. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the notches of your ribs through your thin top before his thumbs found the peaks of your nipples. He pinched—just so—not harsh, but enough to make your breath hitch. A slow, circular rub followed, the friction deliberate, studying the way your body tensed and released beneath his touch.

“Black lace bra, matching black lace panties,” he observed, voice rough with something that wasn’t quite approval. "Skirt easy to remove. You knew what this session would require."

You opened your mouth to protest, but his hands were already moving down, palms skating over the flare of your hips, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your skirt.

The leather belt came undone with a quiet snick, the circle buckle cool where it grazed your stomach before he set it aside. His knuckles brushed your navel as he pushed the fabric down, letting it slide to the floor in a whisper of fabric.

His hands settled on your bare thighs now, just shy of the lace edge of your underwear. You could feel your own dampness—faint, but there—and the realization sent a fresh wave of heat through you.

Jack noticed. Of course he did.

"Show me," he said, fingers flexing against your skin.

"How you usually touch yourself."

Your pulse thudded in your ears. For a moment, you just stared at him—his gaze unwavering, those black eyes absorbing every twitch of your expression. Then, hesitantly, you crossed your legs, pressing your thighs together in a slow, practiced grind.

Jack’s brows lifted. "What are you doing?"

"I don’t… use my fingers," you admitted, voice barely audible. "They don’t— It doesn’t feel like enough."

A few seconds of silence. Then, a low, incredulous laugh rumbled in his chest. "You get off like this?" His grip tightened slightly on your thighs, as if to emphasize the absurdity. "No wonder you’ve numbed yourself. This much pressure—crossing your legs would dull anyone’s nerves."

You flinched, but his hands gentled instantly, one sliding up to cradle your jaw. "I’m not mocking you," he murmured. "But if you’ll let me—" His thumb brushed your lower lip. "—I’d like to teach you how to do it properly."

Your mouth went dry. "Okay," you whispered.

Jack’s smile was sharp. "Good."

Then his hands were on your hips, lifting you effortlessly to reposition you—knees bracketing his thighs, lace-clad cunt hovering just above the hard line of his own arousal. You hadn’t even noticed it before, but now it was impossible to ignore: the heat of him, the way his breath shallowed when your inner thighs brushed against him.

"First lesson," he said, fingers tracing the soaked seam of your underwear. "You don’t need to crush the sensation to feel it. You need to tease it."

And then—slow, torturous—he dragged the lace aside.

"You’re wet."

His voice was low, matter-of-fact, as his thumb brushed over the soft, puffy lips of your cunt. Not probing, not demanding—just noticing. The contact was featherlight, barely there, but it sent a jolt through you anyway. Your hips twitched, a reflexive flinch, but his other hand anchored your thigh, keeping you still.

"Probably from me touching your breasts earlier," he mused, more to himself than to you. His fingers retreated, glistening faintly in the dim light. He studied them for a moment, then met your eyes. "You don’t even realize it, do you? Your body reacts before your mind catches up."

You swallowed. You hadn’t realized. The slow, methodical way he’d palmed your breasts—thumbs circling your nipples through the fabric of the lace bra, his breath hot on your neck—had felt clinical at the time. Like an assessment. But now, with his fingers hovering just above your clit, the evidence was undeniable.

Jack tilted his head. "One last chance," he murmured. "Is there anywhere—anywhere at all—that makes you feel good? Even just a little?"

You opened your mouth. Closed it. 

Your mind was blank, your nerves alight but directionless. You’d spent so long numb that the mere possibility of pleasure felt like a foreign language.

He sighed. Not frustrated. Resigned.

"Then I need you wetter."

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping firmly. "Stand up."

The command was quiet but absolute. You obeyed on shaky legs, and you rose. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, pausing just long enough for you to tense—

Slap.

The sound was sharp, sudden. His palm connected with the curve of your ass, not hard enough to sting, but enough to make you gasp. Your muscles clenched, a startled noise catching in your throat, but he was already lifting you, effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. Your underwear peeled away, the fabric dragging against your thighs before pooling at your ankles.

"Step out."

You did. The air was cool against your bare skin, a contrast to the heat building low in your stomach. When you turned to face him, Jack was still seated, his gaze dark and unwavering. He held your discarded underwear between two fingers, studying the damp spot with detached interest before setting them aside.

"Good," he said, as if you’d passed some unspoken test. His hands returned to your hips, guiding you forward until you stood between his spread knees. 

"Now. Let’s try something simple."

One broad palm settled on the inside of your thigh, pressing in—not teasing, not stroking, just pressure. The heel of his hand ground against your muscles, slow and firm, and your breath hitched.

"There it is," he murmured, watching your face. "You don’t need finesse. You just need to be felt." His other hand mirrored the motion on your opposite thigh, fingers digging into the tense flesh. You swayed, your knees threatening to buckle, but his grip held you upright.

"Breathe," he reminded you, his thumbs creeping higher. "Just breathe. I want to test something."

Jack’s voice was low, a rumble against your spine. You felt his hands shift on your hips, his grip firm but not demanding—just enough to steer. His thumb brushed the jut of your hipbone, a silent question.

You tilted your head, frowning. His thigh?

Before you could voice the confusion, he was already moving you. His palms pressed into the softness above your waist, guiding you forward until your bare cunt settled against the hard muscle of his thigh. The fabric of his pants was rough against your sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the heat building beneath.

"Slowly," he murmured, his breath warm on your shoulder.

His hands moved you first, a deliberate rock of your hips against him, letting you feel the drag of friction. It was clinical at first—an experiment, an assessment—but then your body reacted. A spark, faint but undeniable, flickered low in your stomach.

Your breath hitched.

Jack stilled, his fingers flexing against your hips. "You felt that." It wasn’t a question.

You nodded, your throat tight.

"Good." His voice was dark with satisfaction. "Now, do it yourself."

He released you, his palms sliding away until only the ghost of his touch remained. For a moment, you hesitated, hovering above him, your thighs trembling with the effort of holding yourself up. Then, tentatively, you rolled your hips.

The sensation was sharper this time—less controlled, more yours. A quiet sound escaped you, barely more than a sigh. Jack’s exhale was ragged against your neck, his own restraint fraying at the edges as he watched you.

"Again."

You obeyed, rocking forward with more confidence this time. The pressure was perfect—just enough to tease, not enough to overwhelm. Your fingers dug into his knees for balance as you moved, your pace quickening without thought.

"Look at you," Jack murmured, his voice thick. "Finally feeling something." His hands returned, not to guide you, but to feel you—his thumbs pressing into the dip of your waist, his fingers spanning the curve of your ass, tracing the way your body moved against him. Every touch was possessive, reverent. Like he was memorizing the way you came undone.

Your breath came faster, your hips grinding down in desperate little circles now. The coil in your stomach tightened, your nerves alight with something raw and new. You weren’t just touching yourself—you were using him, his strength, his stillness, the unyielding muscle of his thigh giving you exactly what you needed.

"Slow down." His voice was a blade wrapped in velvet—smooth, but with an edge that made your breath hitch. His fingers curled around your wrist, halting the frantic rhythm of your own touch. You hadn’t even realized you’d started moving against him, hips stuttering with restless need. His grip tightened just enough to emphasize the point, his thumb pressing into your pulse like he was counting every erratic beat.

“Be careful, don’t rush your lesson now.”

Before you could protest, his hands were on your hips, turning you in his lap until you were straddling him backward—your spine pressed flush to his chest, his thighs bracketing yours. The shift was effortless, his strength unsettling in its ease. One arm banded around your waist, holding you in place. The other—

Slap.

A sharp, stinging bite against your bare cunt, just hard enough to make you gasp. The sound echoed in the quiet room, followed by the slick, obscene proof of how wet you were.

"Look at that," Jack murmured, his voice a dark hum against your ear. His fingers glided through your folds with clinical precision, spreading you open like a specimen he couldn’t wait to study.

"Dripping. And we’ve barely started."

His touch was cold. Not unpleasantly so, but enough to make you flinch—a stark contrast to the heat between your legs. You hadn’t noticed before, too lost in the haze of his control, but now it was all you could focus on. The chill of his skin as he dragged a single finger up your slit, circling your clit with agonizing slowness.

"Good girl," he praised, lips grazing the shell of your ear. "Look how far you’ve gotten. All tense and desperate, just for me."

You could hear the smirk in his voice. Could feel it in the way his fingers worked you—teasing, taunting, never giving you enough. Just slow, maddening circles that had your thighs trembling. His other hand splayed across your stomach, holding you steady as your hips jerked, seeking more friction.

"Ah-ah." A warning nip at your earlobe. "I decide when you come. Not you."

His sharp smile pressed against your throat as you whined, fingers clawing at his thighs. "Patience. There you go," Jack murmured, his voice a dark velvet rasp against your ear. "Just like that."

You didn’t remember when you’d gotten fully naked. 

One moment, you were perched on his lap, his hands mapping the tension in your hips—the next, your clothes were gone, discarded somewhere in the hazy periphery of your awareness. Jack’s cool skin was against your bare skin, but your body was warm, more like a furnace against him. 

His fingers trailed up your inner thigh, slow and methodical, pausing just shy of where you ached. "Tell me what you feel," he said, his breath hot on your shoulder.

"I—" Your voice cracked. 

You were wet. So fucking wet it almost embarrassed you—a slick, shameful heat that had no business pooling this fast under the touch of a man who spoke like a surgeon and held you like a sacrament.

Jack hummed, low and approving. "Good. That’s exactly how you should be." His free hand slid up your stomach, palming your breast with a possessiveness that made your back arch. "Look at you," he murmured, thumb brushing over your nipple in slow, deliberate circles. "So responsive. So eager to learn."

You whimpered.

His chuckle was a dark, honeyed thing. "Ah, there’s the sound I’ve been waiting for." He pinched your nipple just so—not enough to hurt, just enough to make your hips jerk—and you gasped, your thighs trembling around his.

"You’re perfect like this," he continued, his voice dipping into something rougher. "All soft curves and pretty, desperate noises. I adore the ones with meat on their bones—something to hold, to savor." His teeth grazed your shoulder, blunt and teasing.

"You’re exactly my type."

Your breath came in shallow pants. 

It was too much. Not enough. His words coiled hot in your belly, his touch everywhere—one hand still working your nipple, the other now dragging through your slick folds with agonizing patience. "Jack—"

"Shh." He pressed a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. "Let me teach you." His fingers parted you gently, his middle finger circling your clit with just the barest pressure. "This is where you start," he murmured. "Slow. Gentle. Let the ache build."

You bit your lip, hips twitching.

"No, no—look." He caught your wrist, guiding your hand down between your legs, his fingers overlaying yours. "Feel that? The way your body pulses when you touch here?" His voice was a sinful whisper, his breath damp against your neck. "That’s your hunger. Don’t rush it. Feed it."

You shuddered, his words searing into your skin. His fingers moved yours in slow, slick strokes—showing you the rhythm, the pressure, the filthy, perfect angle that made your vision blur. 

"You’re so quiet."

Jack’s voice was a low murmur against your ear, his breath warm where his lips nearly brushed your skin. His fingers, still curled gently around your waist, flexed once—a silent prompt.

You hadn’t realized how little sound you’d made until he pointed it out. No moans, no hitched breaths. Just the soft, steady rhythm of your lungs fighting to stay even.

His head tilted, those black eyes scanning your face, again like a surgeon assessing an incision. "Not even a sigh," he mused. "Care to explain?"

You swallowed. "There’s no point," you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Jack went very still behind you. Then, slowly, his hand slid up your torso, his palm skimming the curve of your ribs before settling just beneath your breast. His thumb pressed there, not quite teasing, not quite cruel—just present.

"Are you sure?"

The question hung in the air for half a heartbeat before his other hand dipped between your thighs.

You gasped.

His fingers were bigger than yours—wider, rougher in a way that shouldn’t have been as intoxicating as it was. A single digit pressed inside without warning, stretching you in a single, smooth motion. 

Your back arched instinctively, your nails digging into the arm still wrapped around your waist. "Breathe," Jack reminded you, his voice dark with amusement. "And explain."

You tried. God, you tried. But your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm as he began to move—slow, deliberate drags in and out, his knuckles brushing sensitive flesh with every retreat. 

Your hips jerked, chasing the sensation, but his grip on your waist held firm, keeping you pinned against his chest. "I—" You choked on the word as his thumb circled your clit, feather-light. "I never—needed—to moan."

Jack tsked, his free hand sliding up to squeeze your breast, fingers plucking at your nipple just hard enough to make you jolt. "Try again."

"It was just—quick," you panted, your thighs trembling around his wrist. "Just to—to relax. Never—ah!—never like this."

He hummed, considering. His finger curled inside you, pressing up in a way that made your vision blur. "Can you handle another?"

You nodded frantically.

Jack’s grip on your breast tightened in warning. "Words, sweetheart."

"Y-yes—"

The second finger breached you before you could finish, stretching you impossibly wider. Your legs spasmed, a broken sound tearing from your throat as your body clenched around him. It was too much—the stretch, the heat, the way your own slick coated his fingers with every thrust. You could hear it, wet and obscene, and the sound alone sent a fresh wave of heat flooding between your thighs.

Jack’s lips grazed your shoulder. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice thick with something like pride. "Dripping all over my fingers and you’ve barely made a sound."

You sighed softly, your hips rocking helplessly against his hand.

Then Jack stops.

You don’t realize he’s moved until his hands leave your waist, the sudden absence of his touch like a cold draft against your skin. You start to turn your head, confused—

And then he lifts you.

Effortlessly. As if your weight is nothing. One arm hooks under your knees, the other cradles your back, and in a single motion, he stands, taking you with him. Your breath hitches, fingers scrambling for purchase against his shoulders as the world tilts.

"Wha—?"

No warning. No explanation. Just the dizzying shift of gravity as he carries you the few steps to the bed and drops you—softly, deliberately—into the nest of pillows. Your head sinks into the downy embrace, hair fanning out around you.

And then he’s over you. 

Knees bracketing your hips, palms planted on either side of your head, his shadow swallowing you whole.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Up close, the sheer size of him is startling. You knew he was tall, but like this—his torso blocking the light, his thighs pressing yours wider—he’s overwhelming. Lean, yes, but corded with a strength that makes your stomach flip. His shirt stretches tight across his shoulders, the fabric straining with the faintest shift of muscle as he leans down.

"I’m offering you an experience," he murmurs, voice like gravel wrapped in silk. "A real one."

Your pulse stutters. "W-why?"

His lips curl—just slightly. "Because I’ve touched you everywhere. Played with your breasts. Slapped your pretty cunt. Even fingered you." A pause, deliberate. "And you didn’t come. Not once."

The words shouldn’t burn. Not when he says them like he’s reciting lab results. But they do. Your face flames, thighs pressing together instinctively—only for his knee to nudge them back apart. "You got wet," he continues, thumb brushing your lower lip. "But wetness isn’t your goal. You want you to come. Hard. And I’m willing to make that happen."

Your breath is coming too fast now. "H-how?"

Jack’s smile is all teeth. "By eating you out."

Your entire body locks up. Eating you out. The phrase rattles in your skull like a stone in a tin can. You’ve never—no one’s ever—God, you don’t even know what it’s supposed to feel like. Just the thought of his mouth there, his tongue—

No. No no no.

You jerk your head to the side, one hand slapping over your eyes like a child hiding from a nightmare. It’s ridiculous. You’re a grown woman. A medical student, for Christ’s sake. But the heat in your cheeks is volcanic, your chest so tight it aches.

A chuckle—amused—vibrates through the mattress. "Tiny thing," Jack muses, "and yet so scared." Then his fingers wrap around your wrist, prying your hand away from your face. "Look at me."

You don’t want to. You do. 

And—oh. 

The face mask is gone.

His face is—Handsome isn’t the right word. It’s too… non-human, too soft. Jack is all edges: sharp cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, lips just a shade too red against the cool gray of his skin. His brown hair is a mess of waves, half-tamed, like he’s been running his hands through it. And his ears—those damn pointed ears—twitch faintly as he studies your reaction.

But—with his full face, his eyes that steal your breath. 

Pitch black. No whites, no pupils, just endless depth—like staring into a well at midnight. And beneath them, those faint, inky tear lines, as if he’s been crying shadows. 

You should be terrified. This isn’t a man. This is something other. Something that shouldn’t exist outside of folklore or fever dreams.

But he’s also hot. Professionally, clinically hot.

And he’s looking at you like you’re the fascinating one.

Your throat bobs. "I—"

Jack doesn’t let you finish. He lifts your captured hand to his mouth—and bites your palm. Not hard. Not enough to break skin. Just a slow, deliberate press of teeth, his tongue flicking against the fleshy base of your thumb. A shiver rockets down your spine.

"It’s okay to be scared," he murmurs against your skin. "I’ll be gentle." A pause. "Unless you want me to be rough."

The option hangs between you, ripe as fruit. You groan, rolling your eyes like you’re not already arching into him. "Just—just fucking do it, Jack."

His grin is wicked. "Good girl." His lips pressed against yours without warning, but not without permission—the kind you’d given with your breath hitching, with your fingers curling into the sheets of the bed. It wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t soft. It was claiming, a hot, deliberate slide of his mouth over yours, his teeth catching your lower lip just hard enough to make you gasp.

"Open," he murmured against you, voice dark as spilled ink.

You hesitated—just for a heartbeat—before parting your lips.

He didn’t wait. His tongue swept in, hot and relentless, tangling with yours in a way that felt less like an invitation and more like a taking. Your mouth felt full, overwhelmed, every flick and twist of his tongue dragging a muffled sound from your throat. He kissed you like he was mapping you, like he could taste the years of numbness on your tongue and was determined to burn it away.

When he finally pulled back, your lips were wet, swollen. His thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, catching a thread of saliva, and his eyes locked onto yours. "Good," he said, low and rough. 

"So good for me already."

Then he was moving down.

He didn’t rush. Every inch of you was a ritual. His lips traced the line of your jaw, the flutter of your pulse, the hollow of your throat—each touch a brand. His hands followed, sliding down your sides, fingertips pressing just hard enough to make you arch.

When he reached your breasts, he paused. His breath was hot against your skin as he looked up at you, those black eyes glinting. "Tell me if you want me to stop," he said—but it wasn’t a question. It was a reminder. That you were still in control. That he wouldn’t take what you didn’t give.

You didn’t tell him to stop.

His mouth closed over one nipple, tongue circling slow and wet before his teeth grazed the peak. Your back bowed off the chair, a broken noise tearing from your lips. He hummed, pleased, his free hand cupping your other breast, thumb rolling over the neglected nipple until it ached.

"Jack—" you gasped.

He pulled back just enough to smirk. "You sound pretty when you say my name." Then he switched sides, lavishing the same torment on your other breast, his fingers pinching the first just enough to make your thighs jerk together.

He didn’t let you. His knee slid between yours, forcing them apart. "None of that," he chided, voice dripping with amusement. "I haven’t even gotten to the best part yet."

His lips trailed lower—over the dip of your waist, the curve of your hip, the trembling plane of your stomach. Every kiss was a brand, every nip of his teeth a spark, then glancing up at you. "Last chance to say no."

You didn’t.

His hands slid up your bare legs, fingertips pressing into the soft flesh of your inner thighs, spreading you wider. The first breath he took against your cunt was audible—a slow, deliberate inhale. His groan vibrated through you. "Fuck. You smell perfect."

You shuddered, hips lifting instinctively, but his grip tightened, holding you down. "Ah-ah. I’ll take care of you. Just let me." His hands slid beneath you, palms broad and warm against the curve of your ass, lifting you just enough to adjust your weight. 

The grip was firm—not demanding, but certain, like he knew exactly how to hold you without letting you strain. Your thighs fell open wider, almost embarrassingly so, the cool air of the room brushing against skin that had never felt so exposed.

Then his mouth.

Cold at first—a shock of contrast where you were already throbbing—his lips pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh. Not where you wanted him, not yet. He was savoring this, tracing the delicate crease where leg met hip with the tip of his nose, inhaling like you were something sacred. Your fingers twitched against the sheets, then found his face, cupping his jaw as if to steady yourself. His stubble scraped lightly against your palm, rough and real.

When his tongue finally dragged a long, flat stroke up your center, your back arched off the chair. A gasp tore from your throat, your hand fisting in his hair before you could think to stop yourself. Brown strands wrapped around your fingers, silky and thick, and you pulled—just enough to hear him groan against you.

The vibration rolled through your nerves like a shockwave.

"Fuck—" you choked out, hips jerking.

Jack’s breath hitched, his nose bumping your clit as he glanced up. "Sorry," he murmured, voice already wrecked. But you didn’t let him retreat. 

Your thighs clamped around his head, heels digging into his back, holding him in place with a desperation that should’ve embarrassed you.

"Don’t you dare stop."

A huff of laughter warmed your skin before he obeyed, diving back in with a focus that made your toes curl. His tongue was relentless now—flicking, circling, then pressing inside with a twist that had you seeing stars. One of his hands slid up your body, palming your breast through your shirt, thumb brushing your nipple in time with every lick. 

You whimpered, the dual sensation short-circuiting your thoughts.

And the sounds—your moans pitched higher, breathier, tumbling from your lips like prayers. His ears twitched at each one, the pointed tips flicking forward as if to catch every broken sigh. You could feel how much it pleased him, the way his fingers flexed against your ribs, the way his hips shifted restlessly between your legs like he was holding himself back from grinding into the chair.

Then his free hand gripped your thigh, pushing it wider, deeper, as he sucked your clit between his lips.

Your vision whited out.

"Jack—" you sobbed, thighs trembling around him.

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating straight through your core, and you ground against his face, chasing the pleasure like you’d die without it. His fingers pinched your nipple just shy of pain, and you came with a cry so loud it echoed off the velvet walls.

Jack didn’t let up. Not until you were squirming, oversensitive, your hands fluttering weakly against his shoulders in protest. Only then did he lean back, lips glistening, chin damp, his breathing as ragged as yours.

"Good?" he asked, though the smirk in his voice said he already knew.

You could only stare at him, dazed, your chest heaving.

Slowly, deliberately, he licked his lips.

"Let’s try that again."

Your breath hitched. Again? You’d already come once—shaking, gasping, your thighs clamped around his head like a vice. But Jack wasn’t satisfied. No, the way his fingers dug into your hips, the way his lips glistened with you as he pulled back to smirk up at you—he wanted more.

"You didn’t scream," he murmured, dragging his tongue—tongues?—slowly up your inner thigh. "You didn’t even beg. And from the way your body locked up just now?" A chuckle, dark and knowing. 

"You wanted to come hard."

Damn him. Damn him for reading you like a medical chart, for seeing the truth in the way your back arched, the way your fingers twisted in the sheets. You had wanted it rough. Needed it. Months of numbness, of dull, mechanical friction, and here he was—ruining you with just his mouth.

And then—

His lips sealed over you again, and this time, there was no teasing.

One thick, slick stroke of his tongue from entrance to clit, and your back bowed off the chair. A whimper tore from your throat as he flicked—sharp, merciless—against your oversensitive bundle of nerves. The noise you made was pathetic, broken, and Jack growled against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core.

"There it is," he murmured, pulling back just enough to watch your face as his tongues—what the fuck—pressed against your entrance. "That little gasp. That’s the sound of you feeling something."

Then he pushed in.

One out of his three tongues. Your vision whited out.

The middle one was thick, ridged, fucking into you with slow, deliberate thrusts while the other two coiled around your clit, lapping and squeezing in tandem. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. 

Your hips jerked, desperate, but Jack’s grip on your thighs was iron, holding you open, forcing you to take it. "You wanna take a closer look?" he teased, pulling back just enough to let you see.

Your stomach dropped.

Three tongues. Long, sinuous, glistening with your arousal. The middle one tapered to a wicked point, the other two slightly shorter but no less skilled, curling lazily in the air like they were tasting you already.

"Wha—" you choked out, but Jack just grinned, all sharp teeth and dark amusement.

"Special case, special treatment," he purred, lowering his mouth again. "And you, sweet thing? You’re very special."

The middle tongue speared into you, deeper this time, fucking in and out with a rhythm that had your toes curling. The other two twisted around your clit, one applying steady pressure while the other flicked rapidly, brutally, over the swollen bud.

You sobbed. "Jack—fuck—!"

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your entire body. "That’s it. Let go." You couldn’t. You were too busy unraveling, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave, your thighs trembling, your nails clawing in his brown hair beneath you. It was too much, the overstimulation bordering on pain, but Jack didn’t stop. Didn’t let up. Just kept working you, dragging out every last shudder, every broken gasp.

And then—

"Teach me how to scream," you begged, voice raw.

Jack’s eyes gleamed. "Gladly." He quickly stops. 

The shift is sudden, but not rushed. One moment, you’re cradled against the bed, lulled by the rhythm of his tongue was just deep inside you; the next, his hands are guiding you up, turning you with a quiet certainty that leaves no room for hesitation.

He leans back onto the bed, creaking softly. His movements are fluid, almost predatory in their precision—stretching out like a shadow given form, his head propped against the pillows, those black eyes fixed on you with a hunger that makes your pulse stutter.

“Come here.”

His voice is rougher now, the clinical detachment fraying at the edges. A command, not a request.

You hesitate, knees sinking into the mattress beside his hips. The air between you is thick with the scent of your own arousal, the slick heat between your thighs impossible to ignore. Jack’s nostrils flare, his tongue darting out to wet his lips—too sharp, too pointed—and suddenly, the reality of what he’s asking crashes over you.

Sit on his face.

Your breath hitches. “I—I don’t know if I can—”

“You can.” His hands slide up your thighs, thumbs pressing into the soft flesh just above your knees. “And I can take it.” There’s a dark promise in his words, a dare. 

“I want you to scream my name like it’s going out of style.”

You move.

Clumsy with want, you straddle his chest, one hand braced against the headboard for balance. Jack doesn’t rush you. He watches, eyes swallowing whatever faint light exists in the room, as you lower yourself—inch by trembling inch—until your thighs frame his face, until the heat of your cunt hovers just above his mouth.

His breath ghosts over you, hot and deliberate.

Then contact.

The first lick is slow, almost reverent. A flat, wet stroke from entrance to clit that has your back arching, your fingers tangling in his hair. Jack groans, the vibration against your sensitive flesh drawing a broken sound from your throat.

“Fuck—!”

He doesn’t let you recover. His tongue flicks, teasing your clit before plunging deeper, fucking into you with a rhythm that’s too perfect, too practiced. You gasp, hips jerking forward, but his hands clamp down on your thighs, holding you in place.

“Stay.” The word is muffled against your skin, but the order is clear.

You whimper, nails scraping his scalp as his tongue curls inside you, fucking in and out with obscene precision. It’s too much. It’s not enough. Your thighs shake, your breath coming in ragged pants, but Jack doesn’t relent.

Then—a sudden second pressure, another tongue—thicker, rougher—joins the first, lapping at your entrance before pushing in alongside it. Your eyes fly open, a strangled moan tearing from your lips. What the hell—?! 

Jack’s grip on your thighs tightens, his breaths coming faster now, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks, dragging both tongues over that sweet, spongy spot inside you. Your vision goes whites out.

“J-Jack—!”

He growls, the sound vibrating through your core. His mouth is still on you when you feel it—something wrong. A slow, slick pressure, thinner than his tongue, curling against your inner thigh like a living thing. Your breath hitches, muscles locking, but Jack doesn’t let you pull away. His hands tighten on your hips, pinning you in place as that third tongue—fuck, it’s a third tongue—slithers up through the mess he’s already made of you.

It flicks once, twice, against your clit, teasing the swollen bud before pushing in alongside the others.

You scream.

It’s too much—the stretch, the fullness, the way he spears into you with a hunger that borders on violence. His teeth graze your thigh, his nails carving half-moons into your skin as he fucks into you with that unnatural muscle, coiling and twisting inside you like he’s trying to carve his name into your walls.

Jack’s eyes roll back, his hips jerking beneath you as if he’s the one being ruined. His face is glazed with your slick, lips swollen and shining, breath coming in ragged, animal pants. He doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Not when you sob his name like a prayer, not when your nails tear bloody furrows through his hair, not when your thighs shake and your vision whites out—

—because then you’re coming, hard enough to choke on it, your orgasm ripping through you like a live wire.

He drinks it down. Every spasm, every pulse, his tongues working you through it until you’re wrung dry, until your screams dissolve into broken whimpers. Only then does he let you collapse, your body limp, your mind wiped blank.

Jack exhales, slow and satisfied, his fingers tracing idle, possessive circles on your trembling thighs.

You just came hard enough to black out—vision tunneling, muscles seizing, a silent scream locked behind your teeth—but he catches you before you fall. His arms wrap around you, cradling your limp form against his chest with an unsettling gentleness. His lips brush your forehead in a mockery of tenderness, the gesture sweet enough to make your stomach twist. 

Then, with deliberate slowness, he drags his teeth over your collarbone, biting down just hard enough to bruise.

You gasp, jerking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you pull away. His grip tightens, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your waist like he’s memorizing the give of it.

"Shhhhh…"

His voice is a dark purr, thick with something that isn’t quite human. You feel it vibrate through your ribs, deep and resonant, like the hum of a predator after a good meal. His breath is warm against your skin, but his mouth—when he licks a slow stripe up your throat—is cold.

Too cold.

You try to twist away, but his free hand slides up to cover your mouth before you can scream. His thumb presses against your bottom lip, forcing your jaw open just slightly, and he leans in, inhaling like he’s savoring the scent of your panic.

"Shhhh... There’s no need to scream now," he murmurs, voice dripping with false reassurance.

That’s when you see it.

The black.

Not just his eyes—no, those have always been voids, endless and depthless—but the slick, tar-like substance now trickling from the corners of his sockets, slow and syrupy, dripping down his cheekbones like tears. It doesn’t fall. It clings, viscous and shimmering, before vanishing into the sharp line of his jaw.

You freeze.

Jack notices. Of course he does.

His lips curve into a smile—too wide, too knowing—and he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. "Perfect," he whispers, and this time, when his tongue drags over your pulse point, you taste it—copper and salt and something sweet, something rotting, something that shouldn’t be inside you—

You whimper.

He hums, pleased, and nips at your earlobe. "You did so perfect for me."

His hands slide down your body, mapping the tremors still wracking your limbs, the damp heat between your thighs. He lingers there, pressing two fingers against your clit with a slow, rhythmic pressure that makes your hips jerk despite yourself.

"But I’m not done with you yet."

Because the taste of you—fuck, the taste of you—is better than anything he’s ever had. Better than blood, better than flesh, better than every desperate, writhing thing that’s ever begged beneath his hands.

And he will have more.

He’ll take it slow this time. He’ll let you catch your breath, let your heartbeat settle, let your body remember how to want before he ruins you all over again.

After all, you’re a med student.

You’ll understand the importance of thoroughness. And Jack?

Jack always finishes what he starts.

[tvgrrrr]

Quick sketch, Yui with straight hair looks gorgeous

[theredharlotybf]

Digital Despondency (BEN drowned x Reader)

TW: Attempted sucide, cyber stalking, paranormal activity, death by combustions, hauntings, lore accurate pictures (If you know, you know), TOTK references, cat memes, violence, dead bodies, spit swallowing, gore, beheading, predator kink

Synopsis: You and your family were stumped, your brother attempted to drown himself and you don't know why. But thankfully, he left prerecorded videos of him playing The Legend of Zelda: Majora's mask, maybe if you watch them, you can find out what happened to him..... or see who drive him to do it....

AN: I know a lot of authors like to portray Ben as a weed smoking, online game gooning imp (Which I personally love), but with this fic, I did a lot of studying with the main lore and videos of BEN Drowned, not all of it is entirely accurate but when you look at the videos and lore- BEN drowned is really fucking scary and I actually gave myself nightmares while writing this. And to avoid any confusion, Ben is an adult, he was killed when he was twelve and lost track of time so he doesn't know how old he really is, so for you my friends, enjoy.

YoU sHoUlDn’T hAvE dOnE tHaT!

The cracked tv in front of you glitched out- despite the crazed static and the hiring volume, big white words read out on the cracked scene.

“What the fuck…?! It's still not done..?!” You gasped, stepping back further as you hit the wood paneled walls. The glitching became more and more frantic as you heard his laughter. You were an idiot to think you had what it took to resolve this, but you were wrong, so sorely mistaken.

You had to get out of here!

“(Y/n)...?”

The screen had gone pitch black, leaving you in darkness. A small voice of a child echoed from the television speakers and you froze, your heart rapidly beating from your chest.

“Ben….? That you…?” You quietly muttered.

A gloved hand shot out from the screen of the tv, white rims of static forming around what looked like an arm as if used the momentum to pull his head out, a familiar green cap and a head of shaggy blonde hair. “(Y/n)....?” Said the voice of a young boy as he began to pull himself out of the broken tv.

If you hadn’t used the bathroom earlier, you would have pissed yourself at that very moment as you looked on in horror at what should have been impossible- the limits of your fear could only handle so much and you had just about had enough.

You released an ear piercing scream as you ran over to the door and practically ripped it off its hinges and you burst into a sprint and ran down the hall- desperate to escape. That childlike voice is still calling out for you.

.

.

.

For the sake of context… you needed to reiterate what exactly took place before this happened. Before your entire world was flipped upside down.

This all started when your brother- Jed, received a package in the mail.

Jed and you had a seven year age gap, him being the elder and you the younger. But despite that age gap, the two of you were incredibly close with your shared love for gaming. It merely started with him playing video games and you watching him play them. He ran around as Niko Bellic- punching random people and running away and you laughing your ass off because in your childlike mind, it was the funniest thing ever.

You watched him play all sorts of games, horror games, action games, adventure games. It was only a matter of time before you were old enough to pick up a controller and play video games yourself. One of your most fondest memories were on rainy days, days were you had an excuse to stay inside and play video games- you and your brother would co-op and play against each other in games like smash bros, mario party, Wii Sports Resort only stopping for bathroom breaks or to have lunch and dinner because you and your brother could go for hours!

Your brother had always been a fan of the Legend of Zelda games, but you had only become invested when Breath of the Wild was released and you had gotten your first ever console, the Switch. Your most prized possession and it was during that time your brother had moved out of your parents home and moved into his own place. Becoming a reputable twitch streamer, playing all sorts of games. When in high school, you got a lot of attention from boys.

But not because you were pretty- but because they also followed your brother on Twitch and wanted to meet him in person. You wouldn’t lie, it felt kind of shit so you tried to be more feminine. Ditching your hoodies for well fitting shirts, the baggy pants for cute skirts and jeans. Leaving your Nintendo DS at home and bringing you a new cool phone. You really did try but nearing senior year- you kind of gave up. The more popularity your brother gained- the more infamous your reputation you gained as his sister.

And while you tried to play it off like you didn’t care for video games, you were only lying to them and yourself. But even so, you carried on so that you wouldn’t have to see anyone after graduation.

You always saw your brother though, his house was within driving distance so you’d take your car up to his place where you would hang out or spend the night depending on your mood, playing your video games while he played his. It was very common that people would send your brother stuff and one day, he received a package containing an old gaming cartridge, The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask.

Your brother was thrilled of course, saying he was gonna gonna record the playthrough and upload it on youtube for you, the only reason he wasn’t going to lifestream it was because this week just so happened to be your exam week and while yes- you could just watch it on twitch, your brother didn’t want you to miss out on your studies or be the last one to see his playthrough. Which was very sweet of him and made you happy he thought about you.

Within that week, you didn’t call or text your brother. You were in and out of school, doing your exams, going home, eating and studying and sleeping. Hyperfocused on your exams until the bell rang, signalling your last one finally being done on the Friday afternoon.

“Ah…!” You stretched your arms in your seat as one of your classmates looked over at you. “Hey, how’d you do in your exam?” You shrugged, “Fine I guess, but I wouldn’t want to do it again.”

“Ugh- did you see question seven? That completely stumped me.”

“I swear- this teacher gets off on seeing us fail.”

“Finally- now we can enjoy our summer!”

Everyone was in better spirits now that the strenuous tests were over. You rolled your shoulders as you got up and left school. You got in your car and drove to your brother’s house- knowing that he and you would likely get a pizza later and celebrate the final exams of your senior year.

Your brother lived near the woods, isolated from the other other neighbors but that was just like him anyways. “Hey Jed!” You unlocked his front door with a spare key you owned and allowed yourself inside. The wood panneled walls of your brother’s home made the area feel warm, it once belonged to a hunter but they moved and your brother made this place his personal man cave. However, something didn’t seem right.

“Ugh…” You muttered, seeing a pile of pizza boxes and multiple bottles of cola left lying around. You brother was a gamer geek- yes, but one thing he wasn’t was a slob. “Jed?” You muttered. Stacking up the pizza boxes on your left arm and taking as many bottles in your right hand. You carried them into the kitchen which greeted you with an even worse sight. Dishes stacked on top of each other in the sick, two bags of trash blocking the already full bin. Flies buzzing around an old sandwich.

Just what the heck was going on?

You put everything down on the table before hurrying back into the living room where the stairs were. “Jed!” You yelled. You hurried up the stairs where his office was- well. His gaming room to be more precise. You looked on at the trash filled room, filled with old food and stale beer- your brother’s monitor was left on static. “Jed! Where are you?!” You called out- you knew he had to be home. His truck was in his garage and if he wanted to get anywhere, driving was the quickest way.

You opened up his bedroom door- his area was dark save for the sunlight coming in from behind the curtains. You could smell the joints of weed that had been put out on his ashtray, a pungent stench of sweat radiated from his bed. His bathroom door was left open where the yellow light creeped out.

“Jed…?”

You hesitantly crept towards the bathroom, not knowing what you would see.

And what you saw horrified you. “Jed..?!” 

Your brother lay within the bathtub, water filled to the brim- not moving, his head under the water.

“JED!” You screamed, rushing over. You used all of your strength to pull him from the bath which had no easy feet. His clothes were soaked, yours was soaked and the water was freezing cold. You lay him on the ground and knot your fingers together. Tears streaming down your face as you press down on his chest.

“ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE!” You cried, counting the number of compressions you did on his chest until you got to thirty, you opened his mouth and blew air into it before doing the compressions again. Shouting the amount you did while agonisingly hoping and praying that Jed would make it.

‘Jed! Please, I can’t lose you like this! Please come back to me Jed! Please!’ tears falling down your cheeks and landing on his face.

His eyes shot open and he gasped, vomiting bathwater and coughing up the remenants of his suicide attempt. You rolled him onto his side, before taking your phone from your pocket and dialing nine one one.

“PLEASE! I need an ambulance quickly!” 

.

.

.

You stood at the end of his hospital bed, your mother weeping, your father berating himself. Jed was hooked up to a machine, barely clinging to life. The ambulance workers said if you hadn’t found him when you did, Jed wouldn’t be alive. The police asked you questions, and you answered truthfully. 

One of the main things they asked you was about his mental state. Had he said anything to you to make you believe he was going through anything, you couldn’t say. Jed was….Jed. He never gave the impression he was going through anything. He was financially stable, he was healthy, always took his meds, always did his exercise. He had his online friends and gamers and he had you. You’d stay at his house every Friday and Saturday, you would call him everyday- there was absolutely nothing you could think of that could of led him to this

Fuck- its only been a week since you spoke to him and he’s spiraled! 

“We’ll need to keep him here for a while and observe him. Right now, are only lead here is suicide and if he has suicidal thoughts, we may need to transfer him to the ward so we can attend to him thoroughly.” The doctor said,

You had never felt so defeated in your life.

You drove back to your parents before packing an overnight bag and leaving for Jed’s. Why? Because his house was still a mess and you couldn’t just leave it like that. Besides, the police said it was okay for you to be back here since there was no other indication of a third party, whatever that means. When you got back to Jed’s you immediately began to clean up the house, throwing out the excess garbage- cleaning his dishes, washing his bed sheets, opening up his windows and letting in fresh air.

Sure, Jed was a gamer and could get a little messy from time to time- but never to this extent. It wasn’t like him. Heck- if you were to leave any sort of mess, he would badger you to clean it up until you actually did. You hoovered the carpets, mopped the floors and dusted his shelves before making your way to his office. You had left it for last- something about the room giving you an eerie feeling you had never felt before. You threw all the rubbish into trash bags and all the food into a separate compost bin. You threw any fabric into the laundry before you were finally able to move about the room freely and open the windows

“Hahahahahaha!” 

Your head spun around, who was laughing? 

Your brother’s monitors were still on.

There was a loading screen on the middle monitor- the save file section, at the very top it read ‘BEN’ and under that file was a file that read ‘Link’… you approached the monitor looking at the old game.

“Ben….?” You muttered, before looking at the next monitor on your left. The one that always recorded everything. Your hands make their way to the keyboard where you managed to access the files and find where the pre recorded footage was and sure enough, there it was.

At least five videos of footage from your brother’s gameplay. You let out an audible exhale as you sat down in your brother’s leather swivel chair and took a look at each other's dates and the length of the videos. Each is longer than the last. Your heartbeat in your chest as you clicked play on the first one.

You had to find out why your brother did what he did, and if these recordings help you link to what happened, you could get to the bottom of it.

“Hey everyone what's going on!? It's Jed the Knight and welcome to a new playthrough of mine- Legend of Zelda: Majora’s mask! This was actually gifted to me by one of the fans so- thank you very much my dude! Now a lot of you will probably wonder…why I ain’t streaming this- well. My sister is having her exams this week and while she’ll probably hate me for telling y’all this- but she is a big fan of the Legend of Zelda- as am I! And she doesn’t want to miss it. It's Monday now but I will be posting this on Friday so she can see it- and that goes for a lot of y’all too! I know some of you like watching my videos- but y’all really be sabotaging your study time just to watch youtube videos- don’t do that to yourself, procrastinate!”

That was just like Jed as he pressed start before loading up the save file.

“Ben huh? Guess someone forgot to delete their save file- whatever, I’m just gonna start a new one anyway.” Jed had pressed the option for a new saw file. “You know how it is- gonna go in with the original- Link all day- everyday!” As he pressed play for the new game, he talked some more. “You know, me and my sister- for some of you who don’t know, we’re actually huge fans of the legend of Zelda. We got that new Tears of the Kingdom and it's her favourite- hahaha! I swear- she puts more hours in it than me- pretty sure she got all the light roots too- that's how dedicated she is. Comment down below, what's your favourite Legend of Zelda game?”

“Wow, way to expose me Jed…!” You muttered, a blush forming on your cheek as you remained relieved at the fact that this hasn’t been uploaded yet. The game loaded and the opening cutscene began. From what you could tell, the game play was going as smoothly as one could expect- there were a few glitches but your brother chalked them up to non use for such a long time, it was an old gaming cartridge after all and the console your brother was using wasn’t used to such a monitor. Your brother was having a great time from what you could tell and yet you kept your eyes focused.

If this were any other playthrough, you could have enjoyed it- but knowing him now, your heart was too heavy for any kind of enjoyment. You had to believe that whatever was in these recordings could help you find out what was happening. Jed made a few comments on the odd looking textures in the game that you noticed as well as cutscenes that shouldn’t have commenced yet- but your brother did mention that the cartridge to which the game came in did seem like a beta version so it was nothing too odd. But one thing that struck you as odd was at some moments- the npc’s would refer to your brother’s character as Ben, even though your brother exited out to make sure he was playing on the right file.

To solve this, your brother decided to delete the old Ben profile anyways as a way to solve the problem.

But whenever he talked to the NPC’s, all either of you could see was a blank space on where his name should have been. Soon, the time reached twelve thirty and you rubbed your tired eyes before pausing the recording. You couldn’t sleep yet.

You stretched your arms and got out of the leather chair before walking to your room and changing into some sleepwear before heading down stairs. You weren’t bothered to cook anything so you looked in your brother’s fridge, finding a large can of red bull and grabbing a large bag of chips. You haven't had a real meal since this morning- but you figured you could rectify that tomorrow.

You sat back in your brother’s chair, opening the bag and shoving some of the processed food into your mouth. The can clicked open as you chugged some of the unhealthy drink. A notification went off on your phone and you were quick to open it up. It was from your mother.

You rolled your eyes, you knew she was worried but you couldn’t just quit your investigation now. Besides- it would take you an hour’s drive to get back home so you really didn’t see the point.

You responded with a simple ‘I know.’ before putting down your phone, not bothering to see if your mother had seen the message before playing the video again. By this point, your brother had reached day four of the game.

“Okay y’all. I know some of you have heard of this glitch and I’m gonna attempt it right now. Basically, it gives us an extra day- if I do get an extra day, I’m gonna use it to grab that last mask.”

You knew what he was talking about, that fourth day glitch, if you talk to the astronomer as the clock hits 0:00 on the final day, the countdown disappears and allows players to finish whatever it is that they’re doing. However, as your brother succeeded in his try- he wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

“Yo, what the heck?!” He cried as he found himself at the final boss showdown with a skull kid hovering over him. “W-what is going on…?” Your brother muttered, his eyes focused on the screen. You sat up right in your seat, focusing on the game. This was definitely not what was supposed to happen- so what was happening?

“Guys… I’m freaking out…!” Your brother said as he moved to another part of the map with Skull kid following him. “Why is he watching me?!” he yelled.

‘You’re not sure why, but apparently… you had a reservation.’

The familiar text popped up on the screen and your brother was more confused than ever. Why were texts from npc’s who weren’t there showing up? The game itself must have been bugged, there was no reason your brother should have been at a boss fight right now. In Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom- although it's not recommended but you could do the final boss as early as you want or leave it to the latest until you got all the side missions done so you assumed the other games like Majora’s Mask would follow the same formula.

“That's it… I’m resetting this-”

“AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

All of a sudden- Link had combusted into flames before falling down limply as the skull kid laughed. Your brother threw himself back into the chair, you threw yourself back into the chair. “WHAT THE HECK!!!!” He yelled, shock evident on his face. As the screen faded to black, he wrapped his fingers through his hair as if trying to comprehend what he just saw as the screen went back to the title screen.

“Just… What the heck is going on?! Who sent me this game- why did Link just burst into flames like that?!” 

He clicked the ‘A’ button on his controller to go back onto the save files. Ben wasn’t there, neither was Link. All that was there was a file in all caps. ‘YOUR TURN’. Your brother on the other hand- he was done. “Nope! Screw this!” He yelled, turning off the console, frustration on his face yet fear in his voice. “Whoever sent this to me- you are MESSED up bud! Messed up!” He pushed his seat back, and took his headphones off. “I need a drink…” He muttered before ending the recording.

“Is that it…?” You muttered as you exited out of the video to find that there were more recordings made within the week. Why would he go back to it if he knew that the game was messed up?

You should watch more-....

“What time was it?” You said to yourself as you checked the time on the monitor. Two in the morning. You know you still needed to keep watching, but you needed sleep and the stress of the day was getting to you. Besides, this play through was starting to get fucking creepy an you didn’t want to watch this in the middle of the night.

You logged out of your Brother’s files and looked at the monitor with the save file screen still on. You gulped as you switched off the console and took the Cartridge out before pocketing it. Not knowing why, you just felt like it was a good idea to keep it on you so it doesn’t go missing. You cleaned up after yourself before turning off the lights in his man cave and walking down the hallway to your bedroom. It was a cosy enough room- your refuge away from home whenever you and parents fought over the most ridiculous shit. You closed your door- not bothering to lock it since every other door and window was locked before falling asleep in bed.

Hopefully your search tomorrow will be better.

.

.

.

You exit the car and you see your mother grab flowers from the back seat. “Let's give Jed all our love, okay?” She smiled.

You both made your way past the receptionist and over to the elevator as you both made your way to the psychiatric ward. The guards had to check the flowers for some reason and after they ascertained they weren’t a plant that could miraculously kill anyone, you were allowed inside. As you walked by, most of the patients here seemed out of it- staring at the walls- boredly playing chess with the next dull person across from them, most of them huddled up by a television watching old soap operas.

You finally make it to Jed’s room where you find him laying in bed, his eyes just staring at the ceiling.

“Jed!” You whimper, rushing over to your brother’s side. “Jed..?” You mutter.

He tilts his head your way, gives you a half assed smile- like he wasn’t even trying to convince you he was okay. “(Y/n)...” He muttered.

“Baby.” Your mother smiled. “We got you flowers- (Y/n) picked them out!” She smiled as set down the vase of Rainbow gypsophila or in simpler words ‘Baby’s Breathe’. Vibrate in light and dark colors and you figured your brother could use some colour in this white maze of sterility and isolation. “Don’t you worry baby- whatever it is- we will fix it!” Your mother assured you, although neither of you really knew what was wrong with him. But knowing your mom, she would go to any lengths to protect her son.

“You father and I are gonna take a break from work and be with you every day son, I promise!”

“Can… I have some water…?” He muttered.

“Of course baby.” Your mother grinned before excusing herself to get him the drink. Finally, you two were alone- you lip wobbled as tears leaked from your eyes. You needed to ask him, you wanted to be strong but for him…?

“Why did you try to kill yourself…..?” You sniffled.

He shrugged his shoulders, his eyes cold, his voice. Unfeeling. “Because I’m a bad person. I’ve hurt him and I need to pay the price…. You should have let me die.”

“What are you saying?!” You squawked. His voice was almost robotic- like whoever was speaking was not your brother. “Who could you have hurt that made you do what you do? Did they push you to this?! Why would you try to leave me…..?!” You wept.

“Do you think you're special (Y/n)?” he spat. The mercilessness in his tone shocked you. “Because this life ain’t worth sticking around… even for you.”

“Jed!” You stood up, looking away from him. Who was this man? Your brother never spoke to you like this. Never. He was never capable of such cruelty and yet you couldn’t ever pinpoint a time in your life where you were on the receiving end of such blatant viciousness.But you had to remind yourself, your brother wasn’t in the right state of mind right now- he probably said this as a way to push you from him. To isolate himself.

You had to push past these hurtful words and be there for him.

“Jed… I know you… and I know these aren't words you mean.” You cried.

“I do mean them!” he yelled.

“No you don’t!” You yelled. “You can say whatever you want- but I will not abandon you! You’re not allowed to die until you're eighty years old, understand me! You're not leaving me until you're old and gray with more wrinkles on your face than on your ballsack!”

“(Y/n)....?” Your brother whimpered. Was he letting down his walls?

“Yes?” You answered hesitantly as you turned around.

“I WANT TO DIE!!!!!” Your brother roared.

A flash of light blinded you before your brother combusted into flames- screaming as high as his voice would let him as he reached for you- pain and fear evident in his voice. “JED!” You screamed, backing away into the wall. He fell out of his bed, crawling towards you.

“NOOOOO!!!!!” You screamed as he fell onto the ground, lifeless.

“YoU’vE mEeT wItH a TeRrIbLe FaTe, HaVeN’t YoU?????”

The laughter of the happy mask salesmen and Skull kid echoed in your ears as the room around you began to catch fire, surrounding you in flames.

“Someone- help me!”

.

.

.

“-help me!” You cried, shooting up in your bed and looking around the room. It was dark, no trace of light as you quickly turned on your bedside lamp.

There was nothing and no one there. The hospital, your brother… It was all a dream. You put a hand to your chest, feeling your heart beat rapidly under your ribcage. You were sweating- your pajamas were soaked as were your sheets. That was the scariest nightmare you had ever had. You let small little wobble breaths of relief leave your mouth before standing up and taking off your pajamas. Before stripping your bed sheets.

You didn’t necessarily feel like having a shower. You hair, you can dry up with some dry shampoo- you need a quick body shower. Unlike your brother’s room, you didn’t have an ensuite bathroom so you had to use the one in the hall. In just your underwear and a sports bra- you opened the door to the dark hallway.

“He he he !”

A pair of vibrant red eyes stared back at you from the other end of the dark hallway- coming from your brother’s office. You froze, blinking a few times in case it was simply a trick of the eye.

No.

There were a pair of eyes staring back at you from the other end of the hallway.

“What the……” You mumbled.

It took a few steps forward as its figure began to appear, its characteristics unidentifiable from how dark it was, the only thing you could see was its red eyes staring down at you so menacingling as it quickened its pace toward you.

Someone was in your house! 

As quickly as adrenaline would allow you, you slammed the door shut- footsteps racing towards your room as you quickly locked the only entrance into your bedroom.

*BANG!*

*BANG!*

*BANG!*

They were now trying to get into your room! You looked around the room- eyes, going toward the dresser. You raced towards it, knocking off your valuables before pushing it towards the door. Even as the banging continued, with the door now fortified with the heavy dresser- you raced over to your phone and unlocked it.

“WHOEVER YOU ARE! I’M CALLING THE POLICE!” You screamed through tears as you quickly went to your contacts- having saved the emergency line for dire situations like this. However- not three seconds after ringing-

“Sorry, the person you are trying to reach is not available- please leave a message after the tone.”

‘Are you kidding me…?!?!?’ You thought, this was fucking nine-one-one! They were supposed to pick anytime, anywhere and suddenly when you needed them most- they’re unavailable?! What the fuck!?

But, whoever was banging on your door- you couldn't let them know that.

“I’ve just called the police! They’re on their way right now- you better run if you know what's good for you!”

The banging stopped and for a minute, you believed they had taken the hint and ran.

But then you began to hear little scratching noises against the wooden door, slow…. But it was noisy and they scraped the door from the outside.

“Don’t you wanna know- what happened - to Jed?”

The voice was horrific- possibly the most haunting thing that you have ever heard in your entire life, it rattles your bones, sends goosebumps along your skin. Turn your blood cold. The voice started out like that of a small child before deepening until it was a deep- glitching voice made by autotune.

“Who are you….?” You whimpered.

“Open this door -and find out - and I’ll tell you everything.”

“FUCK THAT!” You shouted. “You think I’m dumb enough to open this door to a freaking red eyed demon?! Don’t act dumb cause I saw those eyes! I would rather toss myself out this second story window than open that door! You can forget it- get out of the house now before the police come-”

“The police aren't coming.” You hear it cackle, making you sweat some more. You heard the door creak as the voice became more clear. “Such naughty words don’t fit your mouth- perhaps I should fill it with rocks and sow it up…hahaha!” 

“Now what makes you think I’m gonna open the door now after you’ve said that?!” You yelled.

“You’ll have to leave eventually… and I’m willing to wait all night~” He sang. Hearing him say that, you move more heavy furniture against the door, including your desk and wardrobe. You tried dialing the authorities again before being met with the same response. This guy probably messed with the wires outside your home, making it impossible to contact anyone. 

But it didn’t matter- there was only one way into the room and it was locked and barricaded. You put new sheets on your bed and a new nightdress as you kept your eyes on the door- you could hear it scratching at the door- you could hear it hum a tune, an old tune as it began to sing.

“Who's afraid of the big bad wolf~?”

“Big bad wolf~”

“Big bad wolf~”

“Who's afraid of the big bad wolf~?”

“Tra La La La La~!”

Such a cheerful tune for such a dire situation. Just what exactly was it with their voice? Was it like some kind of voice changer like the ones Billy and Stu used in Scream? That had to be it- but what about the eyes…? Eye contacts probably. But what worried you most was how the heck was he able to get inside your house? You were absolutely certain that you locked all the doors and windows. Was there some other way inside the house? Was there a spare key laying about somewhere?

You laid in bed, watching the door, trying to fight off the sleep as best you could. You knew it would be stupid to fall asleep again after what happened. But you also knew there was no way that thing could get inside.

That thing… whatever the fuck it was…. It continued to sing it’s creepy little songs

Every time you tried to ring the police, it would go straight to voice mail. You had no weapon, absolutely no way to fend off this stranger if he somehow got inside. The only thing you could do was sit in the corner of your bed, staring at the fortified. Praying for morning to come sooner than later.

.

.

.

“(Y/n)...? (Y/n)!” You heard your mother’s worried yells as pounded on the door. You slowly opened your eyes, perhaps the worst sleep you’ve ever had as you listened to the louder bangs on the door.

“Mom….?” You muttered, your door was still barricaded. What happened that night did happen.

“(Y/n)- what's going on? I came over and called out but you didn’t respond! Why is your door locked?” You hopped out of the bed, relieved your mother had come.

“Sorry! Lemme just-” You paused.

How were you sure this was your mother speaking? That stranger could change its voice from its depth to its volume- perhaps it could even impersonate others. “Baby? It's nearly 12pm. I know you like your Saturday lie-ins but this is ridiculous!”

Only one way to find out,

You took your phone and in a ditch effort to assuage your worries, you pressed your mother’s name in your contacts and called her.

You could hear the polyphonic ringtones from the opposite side of the door. “Why are you ringing me?” She questioned.

“Sorry- that was a butt dial!” You yelled as you quickly pushed your furniture to the side and unlocked the door. The door had scratches on the other side. “Dear!” Your mother embraced you tightly. “Are you alright? You look terrible…!” She muttered.

“I’m fine..” You muttered, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “You look like you’ve hardly slept.” She said,

“I just had a rough night…” You muttered. She leads you back to your bed in your room and makes you lie down. “You see why I didn’t want you here by yourself! You shouldn’t have been alone, not now. We need to stick together now more than ever.”

“Hey mom… I think I need to sleep now…”

“Of course. The fridge is empty… I’ll go to the market and restock the fridge, make us something to eat, okay?” She smiled. You got comfy as she left the room. You listened to her footsteps as she made her way down the stairs and once you heard the door slam shut- you immediately hopped out of bed. You rushed toward the office and slammed it open.

Empty.

You checked the bathroom, Jed’s bedroom, the living room and kitchen- everything that could hide a person yet no one was there. The stranger was no longer in your house. You felt relieved of course as you ripped the fridge open and grabbed as many energy drinks as you could before chugging them down at an unhealthy pace. You had until your mother came back before you could find out what happened to Jed, you needed to be awake and you had to figure it out before nightfall if that creep decided to make another appearance.

You raced back up the stairs and pulled on a form fitting tracksuit before cautiously heading back inside the office. You started up your brother’s system and you leaned back in the chair. All three monitors turn on and you head to the files in which your brother kept his recordings. You found the one you stopped at last and looked at the one next to it.

“Huh…These two were both made within a day of each other…” Your brother had quite the last playthrough on Tuesday night but picked it back up on Wednesday. “What is going on…?” You muttered.

You hit the play button. Usually you would get the full screen of the game with your brother in the corner somewhere. But it was just your brother, sitting in the same seat as you, looking at you. He seemed as tired as you, bags under his eyes, his hair a mess. He didn’t look well.

“(Y/n)....” He spoke- making you piqued up. “Jed?”

“If you are watching this……. It means something…really, really bad has happened to me. If you have watched the other recordings… you’ll know that after I completed the fourth day glitch… Some very strange occurrences happened within the game. I was just gonna tell ya I was dropping the game… but last night after I quit playing. I had…. Some very vivid nightmares… I don’t wanna get into too much detail on what they’re about…. But what I know…is they have something to do with this game!” He yelled as he held the cartridge in his hand, a shitty label on it, scribbled in poor hand writing-

‘Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask’

“When I woke up this morning, I played some more of the game off camera, just to see if it was all in my head… but the more I played…. The more messed up stuff would happen…from Link being set on fire to drowning- and the Elegy of Emptiness statue- just kept freaking following me around!- Transporting from one place to the next and NPC’s from Clocktown? Gone, just gone! I know someone could have just implement this just to fuck with me…. But this had to have been made in the same production year as the rest of the game… maybe even released earlier as a beta version- so I can’t imagine who would be able to mess with this…. Which leads me to believe…. And don’t laugh… haunted.”

“Don’t say that….!” You whined, clawing at your face. You could believe many things but the supernatural… If you believe in one thing, you may as well start believing in everything.

“I looked back on the package from where I received the game- but there was no address or a name to reach out to. Whoever sent me this game did not know what it traced back to them…. But thankfully, that's why the internet exists. I searched up what I could on this game- on this particular cartridge and miraculously, I am not the only one who has played this.”

You listen to your brother type away at his keyboard, his head back in the corner of the screen as he goes onto google search and looks up ‘Jadusable’ and on a youtube account, you see videos labeled

‘BEN drowned’

“This guy had played the same cartridge I had and experienced the same shit as me. Look them up and see for yourself, I’m not kidding.

You quickly pressed the youtube app on your phone and typed up the user name, Jadusable. You found the old username and saw old videos dating back ten years ago. ‘day four.wmv’, ‘BEN.wmv’, ‘DROWNED.wmv’, ‘jadusable.wmv’ and ‘free.wmv’. As you leaned on your hand, you unconsciously started to chew on your pinky- a sinking feeling of dread in your heart.

“I was able to find an old thread linked to these videos- discussing in detail about what Jadusable went through, his videos stopped after that so I did some digging- his real name was Alex Hall. I tried to contact him…. But to no avail. But I was able to find his hometown and contact the local police department. They told me that he had died via suicide, but I was able to find out his date of death and the day the last video was posted. September sixteenth… 2010. He died hours after posting the video…”

“You are joking…!” You moaned, pulling at your hair. Horror consuming your entire being.

“(Y/n)... if you are watching this- it means… I might already be dead. I did my research.. This thing goes alot deeper than this fucking game… but I can’t just walk away….IT won’t let me walk away. Which is why if something has happened…. Destroy the cartridge and destroy my computer! Do NOT let any trace get left behind. You are the only one who can stop this now…. I’m gonna record the next part- I need to try to stop him so he doesn’t hurt anyone else….I love you sis..”

The video comes to an end and tears stream down your face. “Jed…” You mumbled before gritting your teeth. 

What were you waiting for? Your brother gave you a job to do.

You went to your brother’s room and looked under his bed, in perfect view was a baseball bat he kept stashed in the event of an intruder, making you wish you had this last night. You picked up the bat and walked back into the office, you made a beeline for the cartridge, ripping it out and placing it in your pocket before readying the bat.

There was his PC Configurator, the tree monitors and of course, the old nintendo sixty four that was used to run the game. You had to bless yourself- muttering “Lord forgive me…!” Because you knew how expensive these damn pieces were, couldn’t you just run an anti virus programme and be done with it? Because even though you didn’t buy the damn system, your purse was screaming at you from afar.

“Okay… one…two..” With each practice swing, you willed yourself the courage to break the monitor in front of you- one your last swing, you said to yourself- “Just do it, just do it!” You muttered before swinging down.

*Ring!*

*Ring!*

Before the bat could touch the monitor- your phone began to ring. You huffed, halting your actions and picked up your phone. It was a blocked number- you knew you should avoid picking it up. Whoever it was, it couldn’t be any good. But you had a feeling in your gut that this was one call you couldn't ignore, so you went ahead and picked it up.

“Who is it?” You said in a strong voice, like you hadn’t the time to deal with the call. But what you heard on the other end….. Were little cries.

“Hello…?”

“Please….don’t…!” It cried.

“Who is this….?” You asked.

“If you destroy it…. I’ll die…! I don’t wanna die..!” It cried.

It was the voice of a child, well it sounded like a child. Their voices were small and fragile, begging for you to not kill him, just what was going on?

“I’ll ask again, who are you?” you asked, in a firm but softer tone.

“I….I-I can’t…!” The voice cried. “It’s watching us…. It’s connected to the house- just please… don’t destroy it…!”

The house…? No wonder you couldn’t call the police last night, just how far did the stranger’s connection reach?

“Where are you?” You asked.

“I’m in your pocket…!” It whispered in a hushed voice, you felt for the cartridge in your pocket. Was he inside the game? And who was it that took over the house…were there two of them…?

Maybe, just maybe…

“If I were to leave the house and drive away… could you call me back in five minutes?” You asked.

“I….I can try…!” 

You quickly hung up before rushing to your room and grabbing the keys, you hurried down the stairs and out the front door before getting in your car and driving away from the house. You plugged your phone into the charger and drove until you could no longer see Jed’s house in the distance. You were clueless about what was happening, but if you were right, there were two….spirits or whatever the fuck was going on. One was able to infiltrate your brother’s system through the Nintendo while the other stayed behind in the cartridge. Now that you were away from the house, you were no longer connected to Jed’s wifi- using the mobile data on your phone.

You waited for the call and it came. You picked it up and you heard the small voice again.

“Hello….?”

“Who are you and what is going on?” You asked, straight to the point. The voice on the other end remained silent- possibly contemplating what to say, you just hoped whatever they had to say, thye would be quick about it, what with your mother coming back soon. Finally, it spoke.

“I’m Ben….”

“Ben?” you muttered, tapping your fingers against the steering wheel. “As in… Ben from the save file?”

“Uh huh, that's me…!” Ben exclaimed, his voice childlike. Perhaps you should take it easy with the questions, he sounded young, if he actually was young. “How old are you Ben?” You questioned. “I’m twelve!” You could hear his smile through the phone but you had a suspicion that it wasn't all true, looking at the dates of the Majora’s mask videos from Jadusable. “And…. how long have you been twelve, Ben?”

Again, he was silent for a while before answering. “..........a while…..” He mumbled.

Was it possible that he didn’t know what age he was?

“Why are you in the game Ben, how did you get in?”

“I…. I don’t-....” You could hear little whimpers from the other end of the phone, making you sit up straight. “Ben, listen. You have to be brave and tell me what happened, okay? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me.”

“There were…. People.” He began.

“Yes.” You hummed, urging him to continue.

“They told me- *huff* Then they told me I could be like Link! That I could go into my game- and play as Link…. But!" You could hear blurry static on the other end of the phone- like you were breaking up but he continued. “They- they held my head under the water…..they all watched- watched me… watched me- D-D-D-D-D-Drownnnnnnn.” His voice had become distorted as if he were glitching.

“They murdered you…” You muttered.

“Yesssss……… and I’ve been stuck in this statue ever since….” He sobbed on the other end of the phone.

“Wait…!” You gasped. “You mean… the elegy of emptiness statue….?” You’ve been stuck there- you were the one following Jadusable and Jed!”

“Yes…..”

“Why?” You could only ask.

“I wanted to warn them……” He muttered.

“If you’re the one stuck in the statue….. Who was in my house last night?”  You mumbled, hands gripping your steering wheel.

“......................................BEN………..” He answered.

“What?” You said. “Ben? I thought you were Ben.” You asked, quickly becoming worried that who you were talking to who he wasn’t he said he was- but he continued.

“No… I am Ben! But….BEN…” He muttered. “He is what the father called…… the Behavioural Event Network….. But he’s a virus…. He’s a hive mind…. Like the borgs from Star Trek!” He yelled.

“Hive mind… like… a collective consciousness from multiple people…?” You questioned.

“Uh huh….. It's the one who has had me trapped here- using me to gain other’s trust… it killed… so many people…. It killed that one man from the videos….. Absorbed him… it would have taken your brother had you not saved him.”

“Why is it doing this?” You asked.

“Because…. It’s stuck too… it wants to get out more than anything…! And it has figured out a way…!” 

“How…?” You muttered.

“It can materialise now…! it can leave the cyber world as a living virus… but it can only leave for a certain period of time before having to return to the cyber world. Your brother was supposed to be the last one…”

“What are you talking about Ben…?” Becoming increasingly worried. “What was he gonna do with Jed?!”

“Not only was it going to absorb his soul…. it needed his blood.”

“For what!?” You exclaimed.

“The people of the Behavioural Event Network abandoned their flesh for digital bodies that could last forever…. But they realised as I have… there is only so much joy one can obtain from living in a virtual world… we can’t feel warmth- we can’t be touched. Simple things like food and sleep… the touch of grass, breathes of fresh air… the earthy smell of rain…. Having a life… can’t happen in this place…They have driven themselves mad but they don’t want to give up their immortality… so It wants a vessel that can co-exist with both the virtual world and reality. Once your brother died.. It would extract his blood so he could replica the cells…. So they could achieve co-existence.”

“If it's in the house… can’t it find a way to the hospital Jed is in?!” You exclaimed.

“It can’t be away from the Cartridge for too long either. Until it creates the vessel… It's bound to the Cartridge. It could probably find out what hospital your brother is in- but it won’t go, they won’t risk staying away from the Cartridge for too long. If they do- the souls within BEN will start to dissolve and it’ll only lose their power.”

“Don’t… jump at me now… but theoretically. If I were to break the Cartridge, here and now. Couldn’t it destroy them if their artifact keeping them alive was decimated?"

“It would but that's why I called you..!” Ben cried, his sobs evident on the other line. “Yes- you could just destroy the cartridge here and now. They would be able to survive on your brother’s system but only for a while before they die….. And yes… it could save a lot of lives…..but ……..I don’t wanna die…” The boy cried.

“All I wanted was to play Majora’s mask….. I just wanted to be Link… I never wanted this… Everything BEN does… I am also punished for it….”

“I don’t want to do that to you Ben….. but I’m also not sure how I can save you and destroy the Behavioral Network at the same time..”

“I do know a way.” Ben said, confident, new. “How do you know?” You asked. 

“BEN always has an eye on me whenever a new player is in the game- but off game is different. I don’t exactly know how long I’ve been in here but I’ve been reading code for longer than I can remember and if my calculations are correct- I know the code that can help me escape from the statue….”

“You can do that? Then why haven’t you done it before?!” You squawked.

“Because I've never had help from the outside before, most of the time, BEN has used me to lure and trick players into trusting me… so he could catch them. That moment I called, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, BEN was watching you from outside the console and I was still in the cartridge. There was no way he could have interfered and you made it better by taking us away from the house where the range of the internet couldn’t reach us. That's how I am able to talk to you right now.”

Breaking the cartridge would be more convenient, you knew that. If you did, BEN would eventually die and this whole nightmare would be over…. But what about Ben? The twelve year old boy who has been stuck in this game for god knows how long?  Majora’s Mask came out in the year 2000 and judging by that time frame, Ben could be in his thirties or twenties, you would never know but he could have been trapped at any point within the twenty five years since the game came out and it was only here and now- did he have an opportunity to break free.

And who were you to deny him that?

“Tell me what I have to do.” You said.

.

.

.

“We’ll need two things.” 

You quickly drove back to Jed’s house, your phone switched off. You entered the house and looked around, no one was home yet. You hurried up to Jed’s office and shut the door behind you and locked it. You needed to prevent as much movement from BEN as possible before hurrying into Jed’s Bedroom. As ironic as it was, Jed didn’t have a tv in his room. He saw enough screens everyday, in his living room, phone and office, even got those blue light blocking glasses. Jed’s room was devoid of all technology save for one little thing. 

You crawled under his dusty bed, your hand fishing for an old Dell laptop- the first of many when your brother was a teenager, he earned it on a salary stacking boxes at the department store. This laptop would be crucial to Ben’s plan.

“(Y/n)! I’m back!” Your mother called as you heard the front door open. You stuffed the laptop into a bag and carried it down the stairs. “Yes mom?” you called back. Your mother had a bag of groceries in each hand. “Bagels?” she asked. You put the bag on the couch before coming into the kitchen with you. She made bagels with cream cheese and salmon, along with a few tinned foods to restock your brother’s kitchen.

“Baby, are you feeling any better?” Your mother asked.

“No… I think I might just go back home and sleep in my own bed for a bit.” You answered, letting out a yawn.

“Well that's fine baby, your father and I are gonna visit Jed, will you come with us…?” She asked.

You wanted to see how Jed was, to see if he was okay. But a lot was at stake, and you couldn’t afford to waste time. You had to see this through to the end and destroy the entity before he hurts anyone else.

“Can you give Jed my love?” You muttered, rubbing your arms.

“You’re… hurt. I understand.” Your mother said, rubbing your shoulder. “But don’t worry, we will get through this, I promise you.” She said, before taking the plates and cups you were using and washing them up.

“If I live through this…” You muttered.

You locked up the house, your mother heading to the hospital and you headed back towards town. You said to your mother you were going straight home, but you headed to the mall.

You hopped out the car and quickly rushed to the mall- there was a store that sold school supplies for both students and teachers and thankfully it was empty save for a few staff members running the shop. They were only open for the next month until the elementary school kids were done school and they would close up shop for the summer. It was at the very back of the shop where you found it, in the science aisle, 

Horse shoe magnets.

You picked up three just to be on the safe side, the cashier gave you a strange look but didn’t say anything as she bagged your items and let you on your way. Then you made your way home. “Hello?” you called out, making sure no one was home. No one answered. With that affirmation, you headed  back up to your bedroom where you locked your door and opened up the laptop.

“What you first need is a laptop or a computer- something you don’t mind getting invaded cause this will get invaded and corrupted. I would recommend getting an old one and wiping all the data from it so nothing can get traced and or used against you.”

“You’ll need this for the coding, won’t you?”

"Yes, as soon as you’ve wiped the computer clean- then we can start.”

Wiping all the data from the laptop was a lot harder than it looked, wiping everything from the files, deleting the saved passwords and logging out of all of the emails still on the laptop. Once everything was cleared, your phone rang and you answered.

“Are you ready?” Ben’s determined voice asked.

“I’m just waiting on you now.” You replied.

Ben told you to open the Notepad on the laptop and you did. “I’m going to have to call out the code to you, all you need to do is type down what I write, is that okay?”

“That's fine.” You say as you put him on speaker, thankfully, you were good at fast typing on the computer, as Ben spoke, you typed in the code as soon as you heard it- giving your fingers a good exercise.

“What’s the second thing we need?”

“A magnet, preferably a big one.”

“A magnet? What do I need a magnet for?”

“Last night, you said that BEN came for you- he’s able to materialise himself from the screen of any device he’s able to invade- next time. You might not be able to lock him out the next time he comes for you and ordinary weapons won’t work on him.”

“And magnets will…?”

“The composition of his body will be made of electromagnetic energy, the same stuff that makes your computers work- by using a large enough magnet, it’ll interrupt the electromagnetic field that allows him to take form- this won’t do any permanent damage but it will stop him in his tracks, enough time for you to get away it this goes south.”

“What about you? What if he hurts you too…?” You questioned.

“..........He’s had twenty years to kill me but didn’t, and now he’s gonna wish he had killed me…”

Three hours had gone by before you finished typing the code as well as protection codes to stop BEN from interfering with you and Ben’s plan. Everything was saved to files that Ben also helped you fortify. You were so tired, you had hardly slept and here you were, three hours later, eyes focused on a screen that left you constantly rubbing your eyes.

“You did it!” Ben cheered.

“Hey Ben….. I really need to sleep….” You muttered as you looked at the time, four o’clock. You would need sleep before you went back to stop BEN. “Thats okay, but set an alarm for eight o’clock, we need to be back before it gets dark, BEN will be expecting us.” He warned before hanging up.

You quickly changed out of your clothes and into some loose fitting pajamas. You set your phone to charge and set your alarm before you missed your bed, you slid into your cold bed and forced yourself to sleep.

.

.

.

‘The Menace Unleashed’

DEMON KING GANONDORF

The large Gerudo male jumped the ledge he was perched on to come face to face with you, his large fist gripping his equally ginormous sword tightly. “Do not look away.” He commanded, before sliding the great sword from his sheath, he was as big as he was intimidating, examining the blade as if he had not seen it in so long. “You witness a king’s revival.”

And then, he stared down at you. “And the birth of his new world.”

You said nothing, you had nothing to say to the man you were about to murder. You simply slide the master sword from your sheath and equip the hylian shield to your arm. The master sword glowed a bright blue- its response to the gloom that surrounded the cavern you and Ganondord were locked in.

Time to kill this guy.

He slowly walked toward you, but you met him head on. “TAKE THIS!” He yelled- but you parried his attack the minute it hit your shield, causing a burst of energy, startling him. With that- you lunged at him, swinging your sword against him, each flash of blue light bursting out as they made contact with his polluted body.

He backflipped away, gaining some distance away from you before rushing at you once more. He swung your sword, but you dodged his swing just in time, allowing to send him a flurry of strikes that he was unable to dodge.

The more angrier and aggressive he got, the more amused you became. This guy really thought he was all IT- he hadn’t met you yet. You LITERALLY hunt lyonels as a sport! You got so many organs- so many horns and a LOT of their weapons you took after decimating them to death!

You are him! You are Lin-....

Was Ganon dead all ready?

Ganondorf lay still on the floor, not moving. Strange- wasn’t he supposed to go full demon king mode and get a more elongated health before beating him again and having him turn into a dragon? Why was he still there…..?

“...eh.............eh........A-Are you dead now….?” You asked.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Hehehehehehehehehehe! Are you dead now?! Are you dead now…?!” Hahahahahahahahahaha!”

The voice echoed from within the cavern, but you couldn’t find where the voice was coming from.

“He’s lying on the floor- unmoving and you’re asking a lifeless corpse- if he’s DEAD now?! Hahahahahahah!” 

The Demon King’s corpse rumbled, you stepped away from him. “W-What the fuck…?!”

“What did I say about that naughty mouth of yours…?”

A hand shot out from his belly, covered in blood- a geyser of blood leaving the villain's body, making you drop your weapons- these weren’t gloomy hands- these were damn human hands…!

“Oh (Y/n)....!” It cackled as another hand shot from Ganon’s body and pulled himself out.

A white grin that always seemed too white, narrow eyes staring down at yours, black eyes that didn’t hold a single emotion in them, his tan skin seemed more yellowish in colour like he had Jaudice. A terrible short bob hair cut that was dyed a repulsive colour of green. He stared at you with soulless eyes but a grin that only promises to do the most gruesome and horrific acts.

“Let’s play a game!”

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?!?!??!?” You screamed, looking for where you dropped the sword- only to find that it was gone…. Along with your shield..

“Motherfucker!” You cried.

The creep burst from the corpse and came for you, his arms raised and his back hunched like some pedophilic predator- his eyes not blinking- his grin fixed in place.

“WAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!” You screamed, bursting into a sprint. All of a sudden, you were Usain Bolt, you were practically flying as your feet made little light taps against the squishy meaty floor. Adrenaline flowing through the veins, you could have entered the olympics and won the gold medal, that's how fast it felt for you as you ran away from the green haired creep.

“JED!!!” You screamed, you wanted your brother to come save you.

“(Y/n)! Over here!” Yelled a voice on the over side of the cavern. You rushed over to where you heard the familiar voice, but there was no one there. “Ben! Where are you?!?!?!” You cried.

“I’m right here~” Said the voice behind you. The green haired creep lurching closer and closer to you, you backed up against the wall. “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” 

“Such….a bad kid you are…..such a bad bad kid…..when we’re done… I’ll have you washing your mouth out with soap…. Like that precious brother of yours~” he cackled, creeping closer and closer to you.

“NO! Stop!” You screamed.

“(Y/n)!” Another voice yelled, arms burst from the fleshy gloom walls, pulling you.

“You have to wake up! WAKE UP!” 

.

.

.

Once again, you shot up from fear, sweat drenching your pajamas. “What the fuck…?” You whimpered.

Your phone began to ring, another call from the unknown number, except you knew who it was when you picked it up. “Ben!” 

“Holy moly- that was close!” Ben yelled from the other end as you tore your sheets away and stood up. “What just happened to me…!”

“It was BEN! It infiltrated your dreams- it was how it got Jed to drown himself- it was gonna do the same to you!”

“AND you couldn’t have warned me that this was a possibility!?” you yelled.

“No- BEN should still be at your brother’s house- I thought it could only do that as long as it was within your vicinity, it must have been because you were at his computer for so long, it recognised you as a person of interest to them.”

“Just what is going on….? Why is he coming after me now…?” You muttered.

“Because… he can’t get to Jed anymore… even if he could get Jed to do something- he’s being watched with many eyes on him in a high security psych ward meant to stop him from hurting himself. Going after him is pointless so…. He’s targeting you now.”

“Oh what? So he’s gonna take my soul now?!” You yelled- you were so done with this! So pissed, you considered just taking the cartridge and stomping on it- you weren’t thinking about poor Ben at that moment but this BEN guy was more trouble that it was worth!

But then you heard the front door slam open. You heard your mother’s ragged cries. Something happened.

“Call me back in a bit.” You muttered, before hanging up. You hurried down the stairs and there your mom was in your dad’s armchair, crying her head off while your dad silently walked towards the wall and punched it.

“Mom- Dad!” You called, they looked at you. Your mother breaks down in tears again. Your father, he shakes his head, huffing uncontrollably. “Baby…” He looks away from you, his gaze on the ground, your mother can’t bring herself to speak, he cries taking over her body as she cries some more.

“Jed is dead, isn’t he?” You questioned.

Your mother could only cry some more as your father grabbed a nearby vase and smashed it on the ground. “DAMN IT!” He yelled.

You could cry, you should cry. You have every reason to cry…. And yet. You couldn’t.

Because you were too fucking mad.

You had silently went upstairs to your room and took your clothes off. You looked in the mirror and saw yourself- you refused to cry,  refused to shed a tear. Not until this was over.

*Ring!*

*Ring!”

You picked up your phone. “Ben…?” 

“(Y/n)! Something bad has happened- BEN got his hands on Jed’s soul.- he, he must have-”

“Like me, he must have still been able to infiltrate Jed’s mind while he was asleep… that's how he did it..”

You walked into the bathroom and turned on your shower, a very cold shower. “This ends tonight…” You mutter as you end the call and step into the shower, washing the sweat from your body. This bastard killed your brother and now was after you- he needs your blood but you wouldn’t let him, not by a long shot.

You changed into some black leggings and put on your superdry cami. You put on your running shoes as you put everything you need into a bag. You crept down the stairs, your mother had gone into the kitchen, calling someone to tell them what happened- your dad had shut himself in his office, smashing shit up in anger.

You left the house and got into the car, the bag in the passenger seat as you started the ignition.

“I’m coming, Jed….!” You muttered as your foot pressed on the clutch and you were speeding down the street.

.

.

.

You pulled up to the house, each window dark. It was about eight o’clock by the time you arrived and the sun was starting to set. “Let's do this..”

You reach into the bag and take hold of the magnet before hoisting the bag onto your back. You get out of your car and walk across the gravel ground to your brother’s doorstep. You unlock it and the inside of his house is dark. You flip on the light switch- illuminating the living room. You hold the magnet outwards as if it were a gun, checking blindspots the bastard might be hiding.

You slowly descended the stairs, magnet in hand in case the bastard tried to jump you. It was dark upstairs, you quickly reached around the corner and felt for the light.

You found it with ease and the upstairs lit with that familiar warm light. BEN wasn’t there on either side. You quickly tossed your bedroom door open, no BEN, the bathroom door, no BEN, Jed’s Bedroom door, No Ben.

Finally, Jed’s office. 

You threw the door open and aimed your magnet aimlessly as you smashed your fist on the switch to turn on the light.

No BEN.

‘Now's my chance!’You thought as you closed the door behind you and ran for the Nintendo sixty four sitting by the monitors, unplugging them quickly and shoving them into your bag with the laptop.

“This next part won’t be easy but it is important you remain vigilant!”

“How vigilant..?”

“In order to free me…. You’ll have to play the game.”

“Are you kidding me Ben? That’s how Jed got possessed.” You yelled.

“You won’t- not unless you follow my instructions to a T!” He demanded.

You swung the door open, bag on your back as you held the magnet out- keeping an eye on your blind spots.  You rushed over to your room and turned the lights on. Again, no BEN-

“(Y/n)....” 

You spun around, magnet pointed at the other end of the hall- to come to face to face with that Green haired Jaudice looking mother fuck-

“Er….?” You muttered.

Link was at the other end of the hallway….?

And not just any link….. Tears of the Kingdom Link!

“Huh…?” Your jaw slacked as you looked down the hallway- like that one cat meme.

“Looks like Link has gone through with a few updates- hasn’t he?” Link smirked, his dirty blonde hair out of his usual hair tie, his blue eyes staring down at you with a fixed fascination. He was wearing his champion’s tunic as his new arm pinched his chin. What was freaking you out most was that he was talking- to you!

“I should have guessed you were a Legend of Zelda as well- its been a while since I’ve had access to the internet- Nintendo have really upped their game since the last time someone played Majora’s mask. But I got to say-” Link flexed his arms as he examined himself up and down. “This Link is much cooler than the others…. A lot older too- right? Possibly the oldest Link in the series, which is why you like him so much~”

The bastard giggled, a red glint in his eyes.

“Why’d you do it…?!” You growled. “My brother was a GOOD man… he never did anything to anybody…. And you put him down like a stray dog!” You screamed, your hands shaking, tears threatening to leave your eyes.

“Jed? Oh no, no!” Link laughed, sliding his arm up the wall and leaning against it. “You see- your brother is still here… alive. In me~” The look on his face growing more sinister by the second. 

“Jed… Jadusable…. They all live through me…” He grinned, his head cracking as he titled it, his face looking more and more like the one in your dreams. “But- it doesn’t have to be goodbye.”

He began to walk forward, slowly. You stepped back, keeping the magnet in your hands. “Stop!” You warned.

“Jed only died a few hours ago- but I can save him. All I need… is a tiny teensy weensy bit of your blood. Once I ascend- I can go right back to that hospital, give him his soul back, restart his heart and BAHM! You get your brother back, how does that sound, my princess~?”

“You’re a liar….!” You growled, inching the magnet further to make him stop in his tracks. “This is what you do…. You trick people and manipulate them into thinking you're Ben, an innocent victim! You’re nothing more than a murderous coward, you are a disgusting lump of shit and you're gonna pay for what you did to Jed!” You yelled.

“Awwww…..is that what Ben told you? But when you think about- if you had smashed the cartridge when you did…. I would be dead by now, and your brother would still be here. So really, who here is the guilty one? Ben, who sacrifices your brother to buy himself some time before he’s stuck again- or you, who decided to prioritize a stranger… over your own brother~” He smiled.

“Ha! The murderer can’t even take accountability for his own crimes- figures… But if you must know…. Because I’m a better person than you…. So is Ben! Jed knew he could die against you… and he would be proud if he knew I was helping one more person from your evil!” You yelled before slamming your door, and locking it. You heard banging on your door once more- BEN’s glitchy voice clear.

“I’ve taken over your house (Y/n), you have t.v. and it's only a matter of time before I get in- HAHAHAHAHA! You can’t keep me out!”

You pulled the laptop and nintendo sixty four from your bag and set it on the floor.

“First, you need to connect the laptop to the t.v. using the HDMI cables.”

You set your laptop on the dresser and plugged in the HDMI cable into the laptop before connecting it to the t.v., you turned it on and once the screen came on, you logged in and opened up the files and began to load the programmes installed.

“Make sure the Cartridge is in before connecting the HDMI cables- once that is done- plug the console in, I’ll be expecting a fullscale invasion but as long as the programmes on the laptop run- I can make a good go of it!”

“A good go?”

“There's always a chance this can go to crap- if it does- destroy everything ... .thank you for giving me the chance to fight for myself….”

“You’re not gonna lose Ben- show that prick what you're made of!” You yelled, everything was in place, the banging had stopped, you suspected BEN was on to you. Quickly, you're plugged in the Nintendo’s plug.

The screen flashed.

(Scary images warning)

"What is that thing!?!?"

"I-ITS HIM!!!"

"BEN! HELP!" You screamed, backing up at the edge of your bed as these horrorfying images flashed on you screne, you wanted to run- but where could you run?!

"What is happening?!?!?!" You bellowed

Then, the screen turned black.

"Ben....?" You muttered

You quickly pressed started on the controller, only one file to be seen.

'NOW'

and you quickly pressed the A button as you logged onto the game

.

.

.

The screen loaded and there you found yourself in the field outside of clocktown. But Link didn’t look like his young self….no.

Link was a lot older now, the Hylian shield in one arm while the master sword rested in his other arm.

‘What…..is………this…….?’

The caption read, multiple child-like figures surrounded the older Link, some wearing masks while another npc, clearly an adult in the field. 

‘You……freed Ben!’

The older NPC said, you locked onto him. Then…. Link spoke.

‘It's time to end this……BEN!’

You moved his character forward, slashing the master sword at the man- the graphics almost too realistic as his upper torso fell from his lower body.

‘SHE’S CONTROLLING BEN!   !  !   !”

One of the NPC children in the masks yelled.

“What will happen to you after I free you from the statue…?” You asked, as you leaned back in the car seat, phone in one hand and the Majora’s Mask Cartridge in the other. You are static on the other end of the call, like Ben was trying to find the right words to say to you. “When my spirit is freed from the statue… I will need to possess the only other character not directly under BEN’s control….Link.”

“Link? So.. when you do, will you be able to escape?”

“I could, but you and I know we can’t just leave it at that. BEN has taken too many lives- if he gets a sample of human blood- he’ll become a virus that can exist in both reality and the virtual world. Once I take control of Link’s body- you’ll start the file and from there…. We take out BEN.” “Okay, but how do we take out Ben?” You muttered.

"Once I take over Ben- BEN will no longer be able to set you aflame or kill you at will whenever he wants, that's what the extra security files are for, to help me protect Link's body while you take on Ben. You need to remember- all of the members of the Moon children cult…. None of them are innocent- you’ll need to kill every single one if we are to exterminate Ben. Do what you’d do if you were playing any other game, but you must take out the NPCs.”

“In most games, they punish you for trying to hurt the NPCs- haven’t played a game that rewards you for that- but what the hell- if they’re all behind innocent people getting killed, you won’t see me complaining." You laughed.

‘NOOOOOOOOOOOO STOOOOOOOOOOOOP’

With the swing of the master sword, you cut down on the small NPC children- each one of them trying to escape by running in different directions.

“Die you little bastards! Die!” You cackled- not feeling any remorse, not in the slightest. Because of these pricks, your brother was dead. They could take any form they please- they could all get it! Watch how they run like the snivelling little cowards they are- for a minute- they thought they had you, how sorely mistaken they were.

‘SOMEONE DO SOMETHING’ ‘WHY WONT HE DIE??????????????????’ ‘THE CODE WONT WORK’ ‘WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!!!!!!!!!!’

There was only one left, they were the further NPC from the group and you had Link sprint towards them.

‘LeAvE tHeM tO mE.’

And the screen went black. “Ben!” You gasped, standing up with the controller in your hand, your heart in your throat.

The screen was loading and all of a sudden- you found Link in the final boss arena with all the Blue windows and Majora’s mask at the very back of the wall. It was quiet, no one was there and you just walked around, examining the room, trying to find something to lock in on.

“Ben… talk to me… what's going on?!” You yelled as you started to sweat. “Talk to me…!”

“You really had me figured out, huh?”

The captions read. You looked around and in the corner of the room…

It was a Dark Link. The dark grey skin, the light grey hair- the bright red orbs, the very antithesis of Link himself and subsequently, Ben’s opposite, BEN. Shit was now getting real. 

“That was smart, I’ll admit- I never thought you had it in you Ben- getting dear little (Y/n) involved to help break you out….. But once this is over, you're getting back in that statue and this time…. You’re never getting out…. As for the sweet princess pulling your strings….”

It was then Dark Link turned his head to look in your direction- not link, you. He was looking at you through the screen of the T.V., you nearly stopped from the sheer terror of it all. 

“You and I are gonna have a lot of fun…… as soon as I wash that dirty little mouth of yours.”

“Oh shit….” You muttered.

You readied your sword as BEN began to walk towards you menacingly with his own sword in hand. He struck but you used your shield to parry his attack. You struck at BEN with your own attacks. “Die!” You yelled.

“Not quick enough!”

He yelled before slashing at Link with his own round of attacks. “BEN!” You yelled. “Are you okay?!” You cried.

Yet he did not answer.

“How do you expect to beat me if you can’t match my attacks- HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

It cackled as Ben used a fairy to heal himself, but he was right, you weren’t going to get far if you couldn’t beat him one on one. You pulled Ben back, trying to reassess the situation, but BEN ran towards you, making you parry his attacks at the last minute, but somehow, he was still able to get in shots at you.

“Shit! Ben! Hang in there!” You yelled.

BEN ran towards you once again!

“BEGONE!” 

All of a sudden, A long sword with dark blue swirls for the blade came in and knocked BEN back, making his crash into the wall. It was a fierce deity link! “What the hell?! Ben, what's going on?!” You cried.

Ben actually looked back at you through the screen and sent a shrug your way.

‘FOCUS ON THE BATTLE AHEAD!’

Yelled the deity…. But it wasn’t what he said that surprised you, it was the name in the caption before that.

‘Jed:’

“Oh my god…!” A smile stretched on your face. Jed… was in the game- he was there- somehow playing as the fierce Deity link!

You position Ben right by Jed as BEN picks himself up, an audible crack echoing in the camera as he lifts his head up. That creepy smile still locked on his face- the creepy laughter ringing inside the arena.

"YoU sHoUlDn’T hAvE dOnE tTaT!"

BEN had rushed forward, swinging at both Jed and Ben, but Jed was able to defend against BEN with near perfect precision.

“Quickly! You must defeat him!”

Jed yelled as he fended off BEN.You and Ben rushed forward and slashed at Dark Link- who was growing easily agitated.

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” 

With a free hand, he pushed Ben back. He flew back and skidded across the marble ground. “Ben!” You yelled. “Hurry and get up!” 

Jed and BEN continued to fight clashing swords with one another

“You’ve gotten the best of me, but you won’t take her!”

Jed yelled-, twirling his blade around Ben’s sword and parrying it out of his hands, the sword flying several feet away.

“(Y/n), kill him now-” 

*CRACK!*

*SPLURGE!*

“Oh god!” You screamed, BEN had shoved his whole fist through Jed’s sternum until it came out the other side of him. The monster giggled.

“You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you…?”

But while you stood there, dumbfounded and shocked- grief of failing your brother once more- his face only held determination as he lifted his hand towards Ben- an orb of energy glowing.

“NO! What are you doing!?” “Finish what I could not!”

Jed yelled as he blasted the orb towards Ben, Ben grabbed it of course and held it up high.

You received: The strength of Jed, Jadusable and the other lost souls!

Ben’s character began to glow as he gripped his sword tightly, you pushed forward on the stick, sending him sprinting towards BEN. For your brother and all the other innocents he killed- for Ben!

*SLASH!*

Dark Link’s head came tumbling from his neck, landing on the floor.

“YES!” You cried, jumping up and down.” We did it Ben, we did it!”

“No.”

His character finally spoke.

“Something is not right.”

You noticed too, although BEN’s head had come off…. Dark Link was still standing! In that instant, the torso of Dark Link ripped its arm from Fierce Deity Link’s torso and grabbed hold of Ben. “What’s going on?!” You yelled.

“It won’t end like this!”

BEN roared, his head speaking while his body clung to Ben’s character, you shook the joystick frantically in an attempt to help Ben shake off BEN, but he stuck like a bad rash, not even Ben’s own struggle could help loosen his grip.

“You think you get to live on happily ever after with (Y/n), while I’m left here to die?! If I can’t survive….. Then you’ll carry out what I have left to accomplish…. B  E  N  J  A  M  I  N !  !  !”

“BEN!” You yelled, dropping the controller, not knowing what you could do left- but Ben looked back at you as dark veins grew on his arms where BEN touched.

“(Y/N)! DESTROY THE T.V.!!!!! DO IT!” 

It was as if you were possessed, you grabbed the bedside table, uncaring of all the things you had on it. Picking it up with all your strength and hurling it at the T.V. Your arms felt weak but the screen shattered instantaneously.

Youshouldnthavedonethat, Youshouldnthavedonethat, Youshouldnthavedonethat

Youshouldnthavedonethat, Youshouldnthavedonethat, Youshouldnthavedonethat, 

Youshouldnthavedonethat, Youshouldnthavedonethat, Youshouldnthavedonethat

The cracked tv in front of you glitched out- despite the crazed static and the hiring volume, big white words read out on the cracked scene.

“What the fuck…?! It's still not done..?!” You gasped, stepping back further as you hit the wood paneled walls. The glitching became more and more frantic as you heard his laughter. You were an idiot to think you had what it took to resolve this, but you were wrong, so sorely mistaken.

You had to get out of here!

“(Y/n)...?”

The screen had gone pitch black, leaving you in darkness. A small voice of a child echoed from the television speakers and you froze, your heart rapidly beating from your chest.

“Ben….? That you…?” You quietly muttered.

A gloved hand shot out from the screen of the tv, white rims of static forming around what looked like an arm as if used the momentum to pull his head out, a familiar green cap and a head of shaggy blonde hair. “(Y/n)....?” Said the voice of a young boy as he began to pull himself out of the broken tv.

If you hadn’t used the bathroom earlier, you would have pissed yourself at that very moment as you looked on in horror at what should have been impossible- the limits of your fear could only handle so much and you had just about had enough.

You released an ear piercing scream as you ran over to the door and practically ripped it off its hinges and you burst into a sprint and ran down the hall- desperate to escape. That childlike voice is still calling out for you.

.

.

.

You bolted towards the staircase in an effort to escape- but after the third step, your foot had slipped and the next thing you knew?

“AAAGGGHHH!!!!!” 

You were tumbling down the stairs, banging your head against a step before your body made contact with the floor. “Ow….ow….ow…!” You cried, your hand touching your head. Through your blurry vision, you could see your fingers glazed in a red substance. Only you were stupid enough to fall down the stairs.

“(Y/n)....?” That small child-like voice called out to you. Your head pivoted towards the stair case, at the very top- you could see his silhouette staring down at you with those horrifying red eyes. “No-!” You cried, reaching for your person- only to realise in horror- you had left the magnets upstairs- your protection against BEN.

He slowly descended the steps, the light from the moonlight revealing himself. The older version of Link with his messy blonde hair with the green cap on top. The white shirt under his green tunic, a pair of broken shackles clung to his wrists, the chains jingling with each movement.

His eyes- red iris’ surrounded by black sclera

He spoke again… but this time, his voice was different.  “I- I’ll be good…. I will…!” He pleaded, his voice aged up- no longer child-like but like a teenage boy.

“Ben….?” You whimpered.

“Please- don’t look at me like that…… please..!” He begged.

You felt like throwing up, but adrenaline pumped through you as you quickly picked yourself up. Making your way to the door despite your dizzy fatigue. “No…Ben- no!” You cried.

“Get back here….” You heard Ben growl- his voice aging even more- no longer a teenager- but a man. You grabbed hold of the front door, twisting at the keys.

“Get back here!” He yelled through his rage as you threw the door open and jumped outside, landing on the gravel. You picked yourself up and stumbled over to the car. You tried opening it- leading you to remember that not only had you left the magnets inside- but the fucking car keys as well. “Fuck!” You scream.

“(Y/N)!!!” Ben roared as he stomped outside. Desperate to escape- you ran, you ran down the gravel path in an attempt to flee. Screaming was pointless as your brother didn’t have any neighbors, but you screamed anyway.

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP! HELP ME!” You cried before you felt a tug on your hair and a hand around your throat.

“Shut up! SHUT UP!” The virus yelled as he manhandled you back towards your home. No matter how desperate you were to escape- his strength was like nothing you had experienced before.

You were tossed onto the rug in your brother’s living room and the front door slammed shut. You attempted to get up but Ben grabbed the lower half of your face and forced your back onto the ground once more. “Shut up…. Shut the hell up…!” he growled into your ear. Your tears flooded down either side of your face, your hands not moving. You were afraid, deathly afraid of what he would do.

He stared down at you, he was angry.Your heart began to beat ten times as rapidly knowing he was angry.

“You ran from me….. You ran…” he growled, his fingers clenching around your mouth, making you groan uncomfortably.  His fingers were cold- deathly cold. His skin was pale, but that wasn’t surprising, seeing as though he wasn’t alive.

“Was your kindness fake? Why did you run….?!” he seethed.

“Mmmmhhhh!” You cried, into his hand, he lowered his head towards you, red eyes looking into your own. “Why would you run….? You know I’d never hurt you..” He muttered, contrary to his actions.

“Mmeeennn! Mwessse!” You tried to speak, he tilted his head, almost amused by your actions.

“How could I ever harm the girl who freed me?” He spoke matter of factly as he used his free hand to grip the back of your neck and made you sit up, you grabbed his wrist, holding your mouth closed. But it was all useless as he leaned into your head, his nose coming into contact with your hair before giving it a big sniff. Startling you.

“You smell…. Nice…” He grinned, the malicious look in his eyes, making contact with your own frightened ones. “I used to think girls had cooties…. But you? I’m glad you were the first thing I smelt…. After being imprisoned for so long.” He let out a cackle before letting his tongue hang out and sliding it across your head- exactly where you had cut it.

You physically cringed as- the slimeness of it all before letting out a giggle.

“Blood….. Tastes nice…” He grinned, pulling back once more. Only this time…. Blood dripped from his eyes, his touch began to warm as he took his thumb and forefinger to pinch open your mouth, you struggled to remove yourself from his grip, but he only held you tighter.

“Here- why don’t you have a taste~” he cackled, letting his tongue hang out- a combination of blood and saliva forming on his tongue as he let it drip into your open mouth.

He seemed pleased by the reactions you gave him, as you squealed and cried, feet flailing as you tried to escape.

“And now… you're the one who gave me life again……. And I promise…. I’ll spend every single minute of it…. Smoothering you with it… until you don’t want anything more than me…

My (Y/n)....

The Zelda to my Link~....”

Why didn’t you just smash up the office when you had the chance…?

.

.

.

Should I continue this?

[gardanofeden]

Jeff The Killer x !Fem Reader

CW:NSFW, slight cnc, knife/weapon kink, biting, bloodplay, intense possessive behavior

Word Count: 2,455

A/N: i been working on this one for awhile now, im currently working on my headcanons for all the creeps so that should be out sometime soon. please send in any recommendations or requests, my inbox is open! i do not bite!!!

The room stank of iron and gasoline, dimly lit by the flickering orange hue of a single hanging lightbulb. It swung slightly with the breeze sneaking in through the cracked window. You didn’t remember how you got here, only that you came willingly. Maybe you shouldn’t have. Maybe you should’ve run the second you saw those gleaming teeth and dead, manic eyes. But something about him made your skin crawl in a way you liked.

Jeff leaned against the doorway, his hoodie drenched in something darker than sweat. His knife, the same one he used to pin your attention to him weeks ago, spun between his fingers, hypnotic and slick. You could feel your pulse thrum between your thighs just watching the way he handled it. Dangerous. Skilled. Like he’d done this before to someone else. Many times.

“Still not running?” he asked, voice low and feral. “That’s cute.”

You held his stare. “You’d just catch me.”

He laughed sharp and breathless, and in two steps he was on you. His hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing yet, just claiming. The cold kiss of steel pressed under your chin, tilting your face up to his.

“I like you like this,” he murmured, voice almost tender. “Too fucked up to be afraid of me. Or maybe just smart enough to know you belong right here.”

His lips crashed into yours, hot and demanding. It wasn’t sweet or careful, it was claiming, violent, like he wanted to tear you open with his mouth. You moaned into him, hips arching toward his instinctively, and he growled. His teeth sunk into your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He tasted it, licked it off, eyes rolling back.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he muttered, lips red now with your blood. “Let me taste you more.”

Before you could answer, he shoved you back against the filthy mattress in the corner of the room. He didn’t bother undressing you gently, he ripped at your clothes, slicing a strap with the tip of his knife as if undoing a ribbon. You whimpered when the cold blade slid across your collarbone, drawing a hairline cut. He immediately leaned in and licked it, groaning against your skin like it was his favorite fucking flavor.

“You’re mine,” he growled, hot breath skating across your neck. “You understand that, right? I’ll kill anyone who so much as looks at you.”

His knife trailed down your chest, tracing your curves until it stopped right between your thighs. He didn’t push it further just let the metal rest against your soaked panties while his free hand yanked them aside. He smirked at how wet you already were.

“Damn. You really are a freak,” he purred, leaning in to bite your inner thigh, hard enough to bruise. “Bleeding and begging. That’s my kind of girl.”

You gasped as two of his fingers thrust inside you without warning rough, fast, curling up into you like he was trying to carve his name into your walls. His mouth stayed busy too, biting down on your breast, sucking a mark deep and red and permanent. Possessive.

He pulled his fingers out and shoved them into your mouth. “Taste yourself. Do it.”

You obeyed, wrapping your lips around them while holding his gaze, your tongue swirling over his knuckles. He looked feral, like he was about to lose control. You wanted him to.

He dropped his knife onto the pillow beside your head. “Don’t move. Or I’ll use it.”

Then he lined himself up and pushed into you in one rough, unforgiving thrust. You cried out, not in pain, but in the overwhelming stretch, the sting, the fullness. He didn’t give you time to adjust. He just slammed into you over and over, hands gripping your wrists, teeth sinking into your neck as he groaned like an animal.

“You feel so fucking tight,” he snarled into your ear. “Like you were made for me. No one else gets to have you say it.”

You moaned helplessly. “Only you…fuck…only you, Jeff—”

“That’s right,” he growled, fucking you harder now, hips slapping into yours, the sound obscene and echoing off the cracked walls. He reached up and grabbed the knife again, not to cut, just to press the blunt side against your throat, reminding you of his power. Of the danger. Of how good it felt to be this owned.

His release hit hard, sudden, with a raw groan ripped from his chest as he bit down on your shoulder, marking you one last time. His thrusts didn’t stop, not right away. He slowed only when your body started trembling, legs shaking, overstimulated and dripping.

When he finally pulled out, he stayed over you, chest heaving, knife still in hand. Then, surprisingly, he leaned in and kissed your forehead soft. Too soft for someone like him.

“You belong to me now,” he whispered.

You nodded, dazed, lips swollen, body marked and ruined just the way he liked it.

The mattress beneath you was torn and soaked through, a perfect match for the wreckage you’d become under him. But Jeff wasn’t finished. He never was. The sharp glint in his eye promised more, and the way he sat beside you, casually spinning the knife between his fingers, confirmed it.

“You said you were mine,” he murmured, voice deceptively soft as he brushed a blood-crusted strand of hair from your face. “But you didn’t mean it.”

You blinked up at him, raw and wrecked. “I did.”

He smiled. A cold, crooked thing. “Say it again. But look me in the eyes this time.”

You hesitated.

Wrong move.

In an instant, he was on you again, flipping you onto your stomach and pressing your cheek into the mattress, blade grazing the side of your face like a lover’s hand. He slapped you on your lower back, hard and violent. He grinned as he stared at his handprint turned red on your skin.

“You think this is a fucking game?” he growled into your ear, dragging your hips up with one hand. “You give yourself to me, body, mind, every thought in that pretty little head or I’ll carve my name into your fucking heart.”

You gasped as he pushed the head of his cock inside your wet pussy, harder than before, deeper, like he was trying to bury himself in you permanently. The angle made your breath catch, your thighs already sore and trembling, but you didn’t dare tell him to stop. You didn’t want to. Jeff thrusted into you hard, shoving himself all the way in and grabbed onto one of your tits, he gripped hard and pulled. He fucked you rough and steady, each thrust making the old mattress creak under the force.

“Say it,” he hissed again. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“Y-you, Jeff,” you whimpered, tears spilling from your eyes. “Only you.”

He leaned down, mouth dragging across your ear. “Not good enough.”

Before you could protest, he pulled out and dragged you up by your arm. You barely had time to catch your breath before he threw you down on your back and pushed your knees up to your chest. He hovered over you, sweat dripping from his pale skin, that devilish smile splitting his face as he lined himself up again.

“You’re gonna say it right this time.”

He pushed in with a brutal thrust, deeper in this position, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every movement. You cried out overstimulated, ruined, your nails digging into his arms as he pounded into you.

“You love this,” he snarled, biting down on your jaw hard enough to bruise. “You love me. Say it.”

Your body writhed beneath him, slick with arousal and pain and need. He angled his hips just right and you screamed, pleasure crashing through you like a live wire.

“I love you!” you sobbed. “I love you, Jeff…I’m yours!”

That made him snap.

He growled like an animal and flipped you again, pulling you onto his lap as he sat back. His hands gripped your hips bruisingly hard as he bounced you on his cock, forcing you to ride him until you couldn’t think straight. His mouth was all over you biting, sucking, marking every inch of skin he could reach like he was claiming territory. He sucked hard onto your nipple, fumbling the other one with his free hand. Jeff moaned softly as he kisses both of your tits and looked up at you, he thrusted into your walls hard, feeling you shake.

“You’re never fucking leaving,” he snarled into your neck, thrusting up into you from below. “You understand? I’ll gut anyone who tries to take you from me.”

You nodded helplessly, your body his to use, to own. Your orgasm hit so hard it tore a scream from your throat, your body convulsing around him. Jeff came seconds later, biting your shoulder hard, as if trying to leave something behind inside you.

When the high faded, you collapsed against him, chest heaving. He held you tighter than before, the knife discarded on the floor now, forgotten, for now.

But he whispered into your ear with a chilling softness, fingers stroking your spine:

“You’re mine. You don’t need friends. You don’t need family. You don’t need anything but me.”

And somewhere, beneath all the bruises and blood, you nodded again.

The room had gone quiet again, but not peaceful.

It was the kind of silence that settled after a storm, where the air still buzzed with leftover electricity, and your body couldn’t tell if it wanted to collapse or beg for more. Your thighs trembled from the aftershocks of everything he’d done to you, bruises blooming under your skin like warped fingerprints. You were covered in him, inside, out, and yet somehow it wasn’t enough.

You opened your eyes slowly, still on your back, still tasting the coppery tang of blood in your mouth from where he’d bit you. Jeff sat beside you on the edge of the ruined mattress, shirt gone, knife abandoned on the floor beside one unlaced boot. His bare chest gleamed with sweat, and his cock, still rock hard, twitching against his abdomen, hadn’t lost a bit of interest. His eyes flicked down to it, then to you.

“Still breathing?” he asked, with a crooked smirk. “Or did I break my favorite little toy?”

Your throat was dry, lips swollen, but you smiled. “Takes more than that.”

Jeff barked out a laugh, not kind, but pleased. “Good.”

He leaned over you, one hand gripping your jaw, forcing you to look at him. His voice dropped to a growl.

“Then get on your knees and show me.”

You slid off the bed, legs shaky but obedient, and knelt in front of him. The floorboards were cold under your knees, and something sticky clung to them, sweat, maybe blood. You didn’t care. You were too far gone to feel anything but heat, the need rising again in your gut at the way he looked at you.

Like he owned you. Like you’d given yourself to him in pieces, and he’d swallowed every last one.

You leaned forward, hand wrapping slowly around the base of his cock, watching his breath hitch as your fingers slid up and down. He was hot, slick with your earlier arousal, twitching at just your touch.

“Fuck…” he breathed, eyes narrowing. “You really like this, don’t you?”

You didn’t answer, you just licked a slow stripe up the underside of him, from base to tip, before circling the head with your tongue. His grip shot into your hair instantly, fisting it tight.

“God, yeah… keep going. Don’t stop until I say.”

You opened your mouth wider and took him in slow, steady, letting your lips stretch, your throat adjust. You worked him deeper, each movement leaving your jaw aching in the best way. Your spit coated him instantly, messy strings trailing from your lips down to your hand. You let it be sloppy, exactly what he wanted.

He groaned above you, hips jerking forward just enough to force you deeper. Your eyes watered, throat fluttering around him as he held you there.

“Don’t pull back,” he muttered, his voice low, hoarse. “Take it like a good girl. I know you can.”

You moaned around him, not just because of his words, but because of the heat pooling in your stomach again. You rubbed your thighs together instinctively, sucking harder, letting your saliva drip down his length, soaking your hand, your chin, the floor.

Then he grabbed the back of your head in both hands, tangled fingers yanking you harder onto him.

“Sloppier,” he snarled. “I wanna see you gag on it.”

He thrust into your mouth without mercy, and you choked, spit pouring from your lips, tears streaming down your cheeks. You were dizzy from the lack of air, drunk on the sound of his low, throaty moans. Your hands gripped his thighs for balance, nails digging in.

“That’s it,” he hissed. “Fuck, you look so wrecked.”

He watched you through heavy lids, lip curled, breath ragged. You could see it building, the tension in his body, the twitch of his cock in your throat, the way he gritted his teeth like he was trying not to snap too soon.

“You’re mine,” he growled, yanking your hair back hard enough to arch your neck. “My mouth. My body. Say it.”

You gasped, spit running down your chin, throat raw. “Yours. Always yours.”

His groan was filthy.

He shoved back into your mouth, deeper than before, and you didn’t resist. You let him fuck your throat like he owned it, like using you like this was his right. And for you, it was.

His breathing grew ragged, body tightening, fingers gripping your hair so hard your scalp screamed. Then he thrust one last time and came, moaning your name like a violent prayer. Hot, thick pulses down your throat. You swallowed every drop.

When he finally pulled out, you were breathless, drooling, mascara streaked, and soaked with him.

He looked down at you, chest heaving, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “You’re a fucking mess.”

He grabbed your jaw and pulled you up onto the bed again, dragging you into his lap. His mouth found yours, messy, open, no hesitation and he kissed you deep, tasting himself on your tongue like it turned him on even more.

“No one else gets this. No one else gets you. If you ever let another man even look at you…”

He didn’t finish the sentence.

But the blade he slid across your thigh, gentle, just a warning said it all.

And still, you nodded, dazed and ruined.

[azulghoul]

Wondered how he'd look with another weapon.

[theredharlotybf]

Lol, if you know, you know.

[euporienn]

jane

[theredharlotybf]

MOTHER 😩😩😩😩😩😩

[euporienn]

jane

[theredharlotybf]

Can you write for Jeff? I loved your Toby headcannons and Jeff is my bias.

Again, these Headcannons- I don't follow a certain formula so this is not only headcannons but a story- I don't know how to write proper heacannons so here you go.

Jeff the Killer Headcannons

TW: Violence, Blood, Gore, Murder, Non-con, Consensual non-con, toxic relationship-(nsfw part in meeting JTK section), Domestic violence, ( I made Jeff different to other interpretations, you don't like it- get lost)

PERSONAL HEADCANONS

There is no proper way to describe Jeff without including an adjective that links him to being evil.

Because that was exactly what Jeff was, evil. Down to the bone, purely and unconditionally evil.

But how does a sweet innocent boy like Jeff go from being such a good boy to a monster?Simple, because he never was a sweet or innocent boy. Sure, he may have started out as your run of the mill white boy living an upper middle class life- but from the very start, his life was filled with violence.

He was born in an army base when his dad was serving in the military, he and other army buds would often return to their home where they would drink, laugh and occasionally break out into fights- destroying the living room or dinning room, depending where they chose to hang about. His mother was often frightened by his behavior and would often have to call other officers to come and help break up the fights.

This pissed his dad off and while Jeff had never seen his dad hit his mother- there were times where he would see his dad grab his mother by her jaw and push her against the wall- whispering threats or… whatever it was he was telling her. He would purposefully break dishes and tell his mother to clean it up or throw his drink in her face as a way of putting her in her place. He could tell his mother hated his father- tears in her eyes from the humiliation he would put her through, but she put up with it for his and Liu’s sake.

Liu was always on the more sensitive side, he hated seeing their mother like that but Jeff? He felt indifferent to it, if his mother truly hated her circumstances, she was always free to leave.

He remembers the first time he laid eyes on his dad’s army knife, it wasn’t like the regular kitchen knives- the blade was bigger and sharper with a handle made to be held in a bigger hand. He remembered his dad finding him staring at his collection of knives and handed one to Jeff.

“You feel that son? How does it feel holding it?”

“It's heavy…. Why is it heavy?”

“Those aren't your mother’s knives, her knives can barely cut through a steak- this… can gut a man in a single swipe. One day- when you’re older- you and I can go on a hunt- and by that time- the knife won’t be so heavy anymore, I can guarantee that.”

Jeff’s dad isn’t who you would consider an ‘active’ father, he’ll have breakfast with them, go to work, come home, have dinner with them and do what he usually does but ever since Jeff expressed an interest in his father job, hobbies and weapons, he began to invest more time in Jeff, feeding his curiosity on knifes, guns, basic survival and military combat- believing that his son had an interest in joining the military when he was older.

But that wasn’t what held Jeff’s curiosity. His brother once called him into his bedroom because he had found a spider near his toy box and begged Jeff to get rid of it. The elder brother merely whacked his fist on the arachnid and wiped off its smeared carcass on his bottoms. Liu praised him for being so brave but Jeff didn’t feel brave or… heroic. It was a simple kill- an insect that couldn’t even fight back. Nothing too challenging like the rowdy fights he witnessed his dad doing with his army buds. Jeff found himself craving something real- which is why when some of the neighborhood bullies came at him- he didn’t hold back- busting out moves he had witnessed his dad doing millions of times.

It was so bad, the police were involved. Sure, Jeff was bloody and bruised after going up against more boys, but they were in a far worse state than him- his mother cried- screaming bloody murder at him for doing what he did- that he should have ran away- told an adult. But his dad simply pushed her out of the way before telling Jeff how proud he was of him.

Jeff’s father would continuously endorse the violence he had committed, before his deployment, he brought Jeff on a hunting trip where they found an elk, his dad shot the creature in the head and when they brought it back to base- he taught Jeff how to gut it properly. It made Jeff wonder how can a creature bleed so much?

Soon, his dad was off and when his dad came back…. He was different.

He was quiet and feeble- he was near a landmine when it went off and he had lost his hearing- his dad had lost all his friends and seen things that haunted his soul, turning him into a shell of his former self…. And his mum seemed all too pleased with that and Jeff couldn’t help but feel disgusted by him, this was not his father- this was someone else entirely.

When his father came home- his mother moved them all away to Massachusetts where she used their dad’s money to buy a nice big house in a Stepford suburban area where they would all play happy family. Liu fit in right away, making friends at their new school while Jeff just kept to himself. He hated the place, he missed the fights, the men fighting each other in drunken rages- he missed the hunts where he and the other boys learned how to stalk and gut up prey. His mother thought to put him in some martial arts classes like boxing and karate as a way to get out his anger and frustrations but weeks later, he would get kicked out for his instructors thought he was too violent with unchecked tempter and furious impulses- they had even warned her with the way Jeff was going, he would soon end up in Jail.

And she had tried to get his father involved, she failed to see her husband no longer had the strength to do anything and Jeff no longer respected him.

Then came the bullies, Randy, Keith and Troy. These three were the worst of the worst, they were ruthless savages- everyone knew better than to try their luck when they were around, they smoked cigarettes outside school, they destroyed cars, would shake down students with money- they all had been sent away to a juvenile attention centre after one of their shakedowns had ended with with them breaking a students arm in a place where security footage caught the fuckers redhanded.

But they were back now and juvie did nothing to sand away their hostility- they were still as vicious as ever and looking for new targets and it just so happened to be Jeff’s own brother, Liu. He came home after school, wondering where the hell Liu was, he didn’t wait up on him anymore since he wanted to hang out with his new friends.

Police had found him in the park- his face was all bashed in- so bad he required stitches.

Jeff was furious- he got one of his dad’s butterfly knives before finding Liu’s friend’s and demanded to know what happened. They admitted to Jeff it was Randy, Keith and Troy- the minute they saw them headed their way, they bolted- but Liu didn’t get the memo and got caught by them. He found out where they hung out before making his way there.

He saw Randy and Keith by some benches smoking- Troy was over by a burger stand, getting his hands on a quarter pounder before taking a bite into it. Jeff snuck up on him, shoving the entire burger into his hole before punching him in the stomach multiple times, making him throw up violently before kicking him in the head. He got Keith next- stealing some girl’s tote bag, dumping all her stuff out before pulling it over his head and dragging him to a nearby fountain and sticking his head under the water. He was under there for a good minute before Randy grabbed Jeff and pulled him off- leaving Keith coughing up water and trying to catch his breath.

It was then Jeff and Randy got into it. Both throwing punches at each other, grabbing each other by the shirts as they fell onto the grass, Randy getting on top of Jeff- slamming his fist into Jeff’s face- he could taste his own blood as his lips were busted and his nose cracked.

This was the rush Jeff was looking for before he took out his knife and slashed Randy across the chest, making the boy stumble off him. Jeff went full shark mode on him, kneeing him in the face and using the switchblade to swipe at him, drawing ribbons of blood until Randy begged him to stop, tears flooding down his face. Jeff made a break for it before the authorities came.

No one found out it was him but he would rather it stay that way. His mother didn’t even question why he came home with his face looking the way it did, he simply cracked his nose back into place before washing his face and bandaging what he could before going to sleep.

Liu was to remain in hospital until he could recover- everyone was terribly sorry for what happened to Liu, baking them cakes and sending them flowers, one woman, Bernadette had invited his mother and Jeff to come to a community barbeque she was holding.

Jeff didn’t want to go but his mother forced him to, Jeff stood by the fence, a new white hoodie on while the kids ran around giggling and laughing, the men by the grill joking and with beers in their hands while the women and his mother were by the conservatory, drinking wine and talking about their lives. There was only one other person at the event who was his age, Jane Arkensaw, she sat on a swing, reading a book she had brought with her. Jeff saw her in his class and thought maybe he should talk to her- but he couldn’t. Not for one minute could Jeff make himself comfortable- something bad was going to happen- Jeff always had this gut instinct whenever shit was going to go down and it did.

He saw Randy and his goonies hop the fence before withdrawing guns from their waist bands, they had come for Jeff. The adult men approached the boys, trying to calm the situation down while the woman hurried the children inside the house. One of the men got too close to Randy before he shot him in the gut- everyone was screaming and Jeff bolted inside the house. The boys followed him inside but not before Jeff could quickly plan his attack.

He stole a knife from the kitchen before going to hide, the boys split up to look for Jeff, he hid behind one of the doors in the bedrooms as Troy came inside, holding the gun up and searching for him. Jeff got the jump on him, stabbing him in the sides while covering his mouth, Troy’s screams were muffled before he fell unconscious.

Jeff took his gun and looked out into the hallway, as Keith was walking past- Jeff raised the gun at an unsuspecting boy before firing at him multiple times before he fell down the stairs.

This time, it was Randy who got the upper hand- a bottle of Jameson Irish whisky in hand- he smashed it into Jeff’s head, making him stumble into the bathroom. Though Jeff was disoriented, he could sense Randy pointing the gun at him and in a quick motion knocked the gun from his hand. The two boys struggled inside the bathroom, Randy getting the upper hand on Jeff as he pushed him into a cabinet, a bottle of bleach with a loose lid knocking over and falling on both of them- causing their skins to become red with irritation, Jeff knew if he prolonged this, he would be in trouble so he pulled out the kitchen knife and stabbed Randy in the gut multiple times

Randy froze before he coughed out blood, not expecting Jeff to have a knife. Randy sat on the Toilet, holding his stomach as Jeff stood over him

“TROY! KEITH! Damn it- where the fuck are you guys?!” 

“They’re not coming….” 

Jeff felt power coursing through him- this power he had over people. He had just killed two people and soon, a third would die by his hand.

Randy had a look of defeat on his face, knowing he would die but instead, he chuckled. Pulling out a cigarette from behind his ear and using a lighter to light it, this irritated Jeff, demanding to know what the fuck he though was so funny.

“You don’t know Woods? You're covered in alcohol and bleach…. And look what I have in my hand~”

Before Jeff could realise what Randy meant- the Bully took one last puff of a cigarette before flicking it towards him. In a matter of seconds, Jeff was on fire- his voice raw from screaming as he stumbled over to the bathtub, trying to rip the curtain out of the way before getting inside- but he struggled to get them out of the way as he fell into the bathtub, the fire burned him, a pain so terrible it made him falter, he could not get up- then he felt a cooling sensation- someone had used a fire extinguisher on him.

His vision was blurry, Randy had bled out on the toilet and his skin- it made him sick- he tried to get up but slipped and hit his head on the side of the tub. He could hear more screams as the adults came into the bathroom- his mother screaming at him in horror as he passed out.

He remembered coming too, he found himself in a hospital bed, doctors standing over his bed while his mother cried.

“Doctor Shields- my son- my son’s face… his skin! What can be done?” 

“For now? We must let him heal- we can take a look at skin grafts another time when his condition is more stable- but… in all honesty Mrs Woods- there isn’t an inch of your son’s skin that hasn’t been affected. He may very well be like this for the rest of his life.”

“No… Jeff no!” His mother cried.

He lost consciousness again and when he woke up, he was not alone. Next to his bed, in a nightgown, his face covered in stitches, he was holding onto his I.V drip before sitting down, it was his brother, Liu.

“Hey bro… how are you…? Everyone’s been worried sick since those guys came….. I know it was you who attacked them after they got me… you’re always coming to my defence. By the way- the one who saved you was that Jane girl, the one in your class! If it wasn’t for her, you’d probably be dead- so… I’m really grateful to her… Police aren't going to file any charges on you so when you get out- we’re all going to go home and everything will be right again!”

He felt him take his hand.

“Well… maybe not everything will be right again- but I’m going to be there for you everyday of our recovery- I promise you Jeff.” 

Jeff fell back into unconsciousness, his mind drifting through the void- he couldn’t feel anything. They probably had him doped up on so much morphine they had him in a diaper in case he shit himself. God- were are those three assholes dead? He could only assume so, like if stabbing and gunshots didn’t work, nothing would.

But would that be it? Would he just remain an invalid for the rest of his life? Were they gonna put him in a special school where he would have to relearn everything by scratch…?

No…. it can’t be… his life can’t fucking be like that- not to him- not him!

“Jeffery… can you hear me?” 

Jeff could hear what he could only describe as a dark but smooth voice, he opened his eyes, a figure looking down at him, he couldn’t see his face but could make out his outline through the white robe he wore, and the white hood around his head.

“Here me now son, from this moment on- you are the angel of sleep. You will bring terror and despair for all who hear your name- you will die here and be reborn as ‘The Killer’, the one who creeps through the night.”

In that moment- Jeff could feel hands wrap around his through, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. He was helpless as dark spots filled his vision before losing consciousness once again.

He was dead

But when he saw the light, he went towards it- he could hear the sounds of frantic yells and panic., his eyes snapped open, a doctor stood over his bed, his brother holding his mother as they both cried, he could hear the flatline of the heart monitor. “Time of death… 13:05-”

“What’s going on?” He noticed his voice had become raspy and alot more dark than it had originally been. Everyone was shocked as the heart monitor went from flatlining to beating again. Both his mother and brother rushed him, enveloping him with hugs, full of despair thinking they had lost him forever. He returned their hugs- although- they felt… cold.

The doctor was astounded, saying it was a miracle. Jeff looked at his hands noticing how white they were, they felt… leathery to the touch.

He was handed a mirror and he was astounded. His black hair had grown a lot, his face looked thinner, he had lost all his baby fat and all he could see was a haunting white face looking back at him. He smiled, feeling his face. He had been reborn- the face he now donned was him, the real him. The him that had been dormant all these years.

“I’m beautiful…” He muttered, but none heard his voice as they were too busy rejoicing his revival.

They all went home and he noticed his things were packed- his mother told him that the family was leaving this place, too many bad memories, they were going out west into the countryside so no one would bother their family again, but it was too late.

The minute he walked inside, he decided no one was going to leave alive.

But before that, it was time for his final makeover- to solidify who he was, his cheeks hurt from smiling too much so he decided to take care of that first, taking the army knife from his dad’s collection, he went into the bathroom where he dug the knife into his cheeks and began to split the open from ear to ear, funny thing was- he still couldn’t feel it. Next, he burned off his eyelids so he could always see him.

His mother had walked in on him, she was clearly horrified- but Jeff still decided to fuck with her, asking if he found him beautiful. She frantically told him yes before leaving to go get his father to show him. It always pissed him off how two faced his mother was, before his father became the weakling he was- his mother hated his guts, never having the strength to leave- only when his father came back as this docile-pathetic bitch- did his mother start to love him.

He went into his parent’s bedroom- grabbing his mother by the hair and slitting his throat before getting on top of his father and stabbing him in the chest multiple times. Then he went to Liu’s room- he didn’t want to hurt Liu… but couldn’t let him off the hook either. He joined him in his room, his hood up, telling his brother to go to sleep, when he was, Jeff set his house on fire. He called 911 before taking all his stuff and disappearing into the night

A week later- he visited Jane’s house. He needed to thank her for her aid in his ascension- thus gave her the same treatment Randy gave him before setting her house on fire, both her parents died but she lived. Both her and Liu remained in comas and soon- he set out on his path as the angel of sleep. The Killer. Jeff the Killer.

As Jeff grows- he quickly finds out his body has become different- and not in the sense of puberty. He heals quickly- which shouldn’t even make sense! At some point- he could see all his teeth- but it was as if the flesh attempted to stitch itself back together leaving two big scars on either side of his face, not that he was complaining. Sure he was beautiful but it made chewing food a nightmare. And his eyelids slowly grew back- however his waterline consisted of black burned rims which caused him to sneak into pharmacies to steal some water drops.

At the beginning- he was a beginner as you would expect, he wasn’t all too familiar killing a bunch of people at one- he had many run-ins with people who were bigger and stronger than him- some carried knives, others- guns. But no matter how badly he got hurt- sliced up or shot- he would be fine. It did leave plenty of scars on his now ivory leather skin but he was fine. He once took several rounds in the chest but got up an hour later.

He can run faster- he gets stronger with every fight and he slowly grows a sleeper build. He doesn’t bother to cut his hair, the long hair suits him better and with his whole complexion, it makes his pale blue eyes stand out more.

Jeff is a man who lives life on the run- but he definitely doesn’t think of himself as some kind of mongrel. Like- he’ll still make time to brush his teeth and make a point to wash long onyx hair every week (What? He tries- okay?) But that doesn’t make his attitude any less poor. We all know Jeff has the foulest mouth out of everyone in the creepypasta roster, a narcissist at heart.

With Jeff’s appearance- he can’t afford anyone to know he exists unless he’s murdering them to death. He would not get a Job- if he needs money- he’ll steal it from the person he murders. If he needs a bed- he’ll kill someone and take theirs- use the kitchen and bathroom while he’s at it. Need a car? 

He’ll just flag someone down and take a ride of them.

Then he’ll murder them and take their car/truck if he likes it enough- acting like a whole GTA character- there is no low where Jeff wouldn’t go- America is his playground, the whole world is his oyster and as long as he can play his games and live life on his terms, he’ll do it.

Loves his knife collection, most of his knives come from his dad- the army knives, butterfly knives- he even had a machete he keeps for special occasions! He had knives stashed in his boots, hanging around his neck- in the waistband of his black jeans- you never know! Doesn’t hurt to be prepared.

Does his own piercings, gave himself snake bites and other types of piercings on his ears and shit- got infected cuz he forgot to clean them- but what the hell is advanced healing for if it can’t get rid of infection.

What does our boy do when he is not destroying lives? Well I’ll tell you- he’s listening to black veil brides, Crazy Clown Posse, slipknot- he's such a bad boy.

Enjoys smoking- like his beer and whatever alcoholic beverage he can get his hands on.

Sometimes- he won’t go straight in for the kill- if he sees a man who believes can put up a fight, Jeff is going right for it, because, despite his love for torturing helpless victims who can’t fight back- nothing brings him more joy than going toe to toe to someone who can offer him a challenge- beat them that into submission before killing them.

Jeff is strong- possibly one of the strongest creepypastas with one of the highest body counts- nothing and no one escapes him….

And then there's you.

MEETING JEFF

Jeff has had plenty of women at his beck and call- some who had fallen victim to him, there was never anyone who stood out to him- women to him were there for two things.

The thrill and the kill

Most women were that for him but you? You were something else that made Jeff’s loins itch.

In all fairness- you were a normal girl as far normal could get. Some of your first memories were of watching your mother and father scream at each other back and forth- their marriage had gone down the drain by the time you were five and after one particular fight where they both laid hands on one another- it was time for a divorce.

Your parents had fifty fifty custody for a while before your mother remarried your stepfather, you saw her less and less until finally- you only saw her during the summer while you spent the majority of your time with your dad. Sure, he married another woman and adopted her two sons- your mom was simply too busy with her new husband and replacement babies- like she wanted to forget you existed.

You were a quiet kid, quiet but cautious, you weren’t really in the mood to make friends, not with your home life being so awkward. Your dad did what he could to help you feel less alone by taking you hiking, stalking, fishing- father/daughter time. But you felt so disconnected in your life, your summers were bland and boring, wishing you could just spend most of your time with your dad so you could always be in a consistent place, but your mother made you visit so her side of the family didn’t think she was abandoning you and even when you were over at your mothers’, you were made to babysit your half siblings so your mom and step dad could go out.

At some point, you had become a target for bullies- but what they failed to notice was that you were insanely observant and smart. You knew their schedules and routes, knew the schools layout like the back of your hand and knew everywhere you could hide out til they left. They could never bully you cause they could never find you. You just preferred not to engage, in your mind, nothing mattered…. Until you actually lost it all.

Summer had ended and you had left your mom’s house and taken the bus to your dad’s town before tracking up the lonely hill where your dad’s house was. You figured dad was going to bring you on another tedious hunting trip, your step brothers were going to be annoying as usual and your step mom would try to parent you like she was your actual mother-..........

Why was there blood in the window?

You ran up the hill as fast as you could, stopping at the door- the lights were on- what happened…? You looked through the window and gasped. “Brenda!” You rushed into the house and into the kitchen, dumping your bag on the floor as you approached the kitchen table. Your step mother had been impaled with several knives in her torso- pinning her to the table. You could see all her teeth as a big smile was carved into her face, from ear to ear. “Brenda..!” You cried

Then you heard choking- you hurried into the living room where you found your step brothers, both of them gutted from groin to sternum, smiles carved into their faces- the younger one was still alive even with his guts spilling. You dialed nine one one, telling him to hang in there- but he could only mutter a gurling choke and a “Save…. Yours-self…!” Before dying. You huffed a quiet sob- why was this happening!? Who would do this to your stepmother and brothers?! Where was your dad?!

The police answered your call with their typical “911, what's your emergency?” And you frantically told them your address- to get the cops over- your family was dead! But then- you heard what could only be described as bone’s snapping in the other room- you told them you heard something- they urged you to not make contact- to hide. But something in your gut told you to see. You left your phone behind and reluctantly took one of the knives from your stepmother’s corpse before heading to the garage where the source of the noise came.

There you saw the smiling killer for the first time, the smiling killer beating your dad bloody with his bare fists- your dad… you had never seen him like that before. He looked bad- and he was sent to the ground with one final blow from the nightmarish ghoul.

“DAD!” You cried rushing forward before being struck in the head and falling to the ground. “Oh what’s this? A daughter- I didn’t see her in any of the family photos hanging from the wall~!” He cackled, making his way over to you, pulling you up by the hair. “Aw…. isn’t she just pretty? All she needs is a ‘click’ and ‘click’ and she’d be perfect~” He cackled, each click he made was his gesturing to each wipe on the face needed to give you a smile like the others.

“No…!” Your dad grumbled- trying to get up before falling flat on his face. “Please don’t! No please…!” You cried- your dad’s beaten form- the killer’s malicious gaze. “Don’t kill my dad please! Take me instead- just don’t kill my dad! I’m begging you!” You didn’t know what he wanted or why he was doing this- but not your dad…not him.

“Huh…” The killer muttered. “You know- people at this point often throw their parents under the bus- not take their place… that's a first.” he kneeled down so he could meet your gaze, tears strained your face- you were so utterly terrified- your dad was still lying there! “Dad get up! Please get up!”

The killer dropped you to the ground before going back over to your father- grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t worry daddy dearest, I’ll take care of your little princess~! For now… you can just… go…to….sleep!” The killer pulled out a knife before stabbing him in the throat, once, twice- losing himself in the frenzy as he stabbed your father- all the while you screamed. “NO! NO!”

Your father fell limply to the ground- his blood leaking over the concrete ground- not even twenty minutes in the door- and you’ve already lost your entire family- fire burned within you- your teeth chattered with anger as you furrowed your brows- taking the knife you had in your hand before rushing at him “I’ll fucking kill you!” You screamed

Jeff merely smacked the knife out of your hands before elbowing you in the throat. You dropped to the ground- winded and trying to get your air back before the killer stood before hiding you. “Don’t you worry- I’ll take good care of you~” And with that- he knocked you out.

You later woke up tied to a chair- your dad’s favourite armchair while the corpses of your family remain lined up on the sofa, you cried in horror- the killer reappeared, taunting you. He introduced himself as Jeff- he already knew your name. After digging around in your parents room, he found a photo album that just had you and your dad. “Aww…. poor little (Y/n)... never really belonging anywhere- not with your daddy dearest- nor with mommy dearest… oh- how sad- hahaha!” He cackled before showing you your phone. He knew you had rang the cops and that they were on the way- “You're no fun (Y/n), but don’t you worry. Once the police get here, I’ll take care of them like I did your family here. And once they’re out of the way… hehehehe! I got some great plans for you, me and you are gonna have lots of fun sweetheart~”

You knew you couldn’t let him continue with his plan- the police came and he hid, but not before gagging you. The cops came inside and found you tied to the chair- one of them ungaged you as you saw Jeff approach- you tried to warn them but not before Jeff stabbed him in the head with a butterfly knife. He fell onto your body as Jeff ran away- leading the cops deeper into the house- shooting and cursing at him. You managed to get your hand free before wretching the knife from his head and using it to cut yourself free. From there, you snuck out of the house and to the shed where your father kept his hunting gear. You heard multiple gun shots before there was a sudden silence. You took what you needed and ran off into the woods- if there was ever a time to use the hunting skills dad taught you, it was now.

You laid a trap for Jeff, as he found you in the woods- you ran away and he gave chase- but not before stepping into a bear trap. “AGH!” He yelled, falling over. His foot was stuck- you used your dad’s rifle to shoot him in the chest- killing him… or so you thought.

“Heh heh heh! That's cute…. Real cute! But it takes a lot more than that to kill me~” He chuckled, throwing a knife at you, it went into your chest and you fell, Jeff got up, inching towards you- you used the butt of the rifle to fight him off- hitting him in the head. You hit him over and over again before he stopped moving. You grabbed a rock and dropped it on his head just to be safe.

You went home where you found the police reinforcements- and you were taken to the police station. You tried to tell them it was a man named Jeff who killed your family- he had a smile carved into his face and skin white as snow- but when the police looked where you told them to- they found nobody. Next thing you know- all eyes are on you, thinking you were the killer. You found yourself in handcuffs and sitting in a jail cell- you could only cry and tell them it wasn’t you.

Three days had gone by and you had questioned your sanity- even your mother visited- thinking you had done it which shocked you. You weren’t capable of murder- the only person you killed was the psycho who murdered your dad and his family- no one was on your side.

What was going on… why… was this happening..? Was your brain playing tricks on you…. Had you……. Actually done it? No- your younger brother told you to go save yourself! Why would someone you killed say that to you…. Unless you had just imagined that yourself…!

That night- the police station had gone into lockdown- Jeff had come and he was there for you, wanting to finish what he started, an officer had taken you from your cell to the security room where the chief of police showed you the cameras- of Jeff murdering the officers. You confirmed it was him. You were told to stay put as he and the others dealt with him. You knew they would die fighting Jeff, you snuck away from them and escaped through the backdoor, fleeing from the police station before Jeff caught you

Since then- it has been an endless game of cat and mouse between you two. To Jeff, you were a thrill that would challenge him harder and harder. You would go from town to town, trying to evade Jeff as he pursued you with no end in sight- you had many close calls with the killer where you were forced to fight him off and bolt it before he caught up with you again.

You were tired and depressed, one of your families was dead and the other didn’t help you when you needed it- still, you continued to run and for what? You didn’t know- you had nothing left to live for but you didn’t want to die. You lost your family and didn’t appreciate them while they were alive.

You had to change your name multiple times, you were forced to lie and steal- you quickly learned how to rob people and stores… thankfully you watched that one movie, Thelma and Louise. Always keeping a gun on you and making sure you knew all entrances and exits- you and become a master of escaping the authorities and Jeff, the former who you could no longer trust.

You mostly stuck to places where you could camp out in a truck you stole. Fishing, hunting birds and forest animals- sleeping in abandoned buildings to which you could secure if Jeff had decided to come knocking.

Finally, two years had gone by. You had been all over the country- running from town to town, from city to city, all in the hopes of evading Jeff as he hunted you. He had taken many lives from each place you went to which helped you know when it was time to go.

But it was also how the FBI found you and took you in. They had been hunting Jeff for a long time- with all his murder sprees- they found out it all had a common denominator, you, every town you went to, Jeff followed and wherever Jeff went- people died. You tried to explain to them what the truth of it was- he was chasing you- no one believed you about him and you had no choice but to keep running and running because that was all you could do. The FBI told you that was exactly how they intended to capture Jeff, by using you as the bait.

While in FBI custody- only did you realise the extent of Jeff’s obsession with you.

They explained he would purposefully murder girls that fit your exact profile. Height, width, hair colour, skin color, eye colour, these girls looked exactly like you. The FBI found hideouts where Jeff was living previously, where he left behind photos of you, stalking you so you didn’t see him- a few of these photos to note were covered in sperm….. Like he had been jacking off to you… Beforehand- you simply believed Jeff wanted to settle the score you had with him-.... Not… this!

But soon enough, Jeff had come for you.

FBI agents all came at him, shooting to kill, trying to capture him- but they soon realised as you did that Jeff could not be killed, they were all defeated and you were trapped. You heard Jeff approaching the room you were in and you knew you couldn’t let him take you. One of the agents was idiotic enough to leave a gun in the room and you held it up to your temple. The minute he entered- you pulled the trigger.

Then the gun went off in your hand. You cried in pain, a perfectly aimed knife prevented you from shooting yourself, instead- injuring your hand. Even as Jeff approached you- anger boiled up inside you. “COME ON YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I’m not scared of you!” You screamed, even though you were scared shitless. You always knew this day would come- as much as you didn’t want to believe it. You always imagined how exactly Jeff was going to kill you, like your step mother? Like your step brothers? Like your dad?....like those other girls that looked like you?

“Oh (Y/n)...... poor stupid (Y/n). You have got it all wrong~... I’m not here to kill you.”

The blood of the FBI agents dripped onto your form, from his bloodsoaked body. You should know by now that whatever Jeff has to say is full of shit- that's just who he is-

“We’ve been playing this game for a long time and I’ll admit- at the beginning, I was planning to kill you…. But you’re so much more than that to me (Y/n)- no matter how much I chased you…. You always managed to evade me… and now that I have you…. Killing you would be a waste.”

In a fluid motion- Jeff got you on your stomach before tying your hands behind your back and you began to cry. You knew Jeff was going to kill you, to make you suffer- after everything you did! The nights you spent homeless, hurting other people just for food and money- squatting in other peoples homes, bouncing from one town to the next just to escape the smiling killer, and it all meant nothing…….

You would have been better off killing yourself in the beginning… all because you wanted to cling to life and for what? You have no more family- no friends. “My life is meaningless….”

“No it's not..” Jeff smirked, looking back at you, making you realise you had said that outloud. He put you in the backseat of a car, still tied up as he got into the driver's seat. “You know why (Y/n)? Because you have me…. And I have you….. I’m the only person who will ever give about you… so no more running off, eh?” He snickered before driving off away from the facility you were being held.

He drove for two days straight- stopping every now and then at a gas station for food and gas- always wearing a mask covering the lower half of his face while you stayed in the car. If you needed to be- he would walk to the bathroom and wait til you were done.

You both finally arrived at a home hidden in the woods, down a dirt trail, it was there Jeff untied you, welcoming you to your new home but didn’t make you feel any less confused. What did Jeff want with you? After two years of stalking- he wasn’t even going to kill you?

He brought you into the home- one that looked newly renovated- it had belonged to a couple who wanted to build a life for themselves out in the boonies before Jeff killed them and he thought- it would be the perfect place to build a life….. With you.

At first, you would  refuse to speak to him if you didn’t have to, Jeff would steal food so neither of you were living off of take out which was… nice. It had been a while since you enjoyed a home cooked meal. (Although when it came to these cooked meals- Jeff would have you make them while keeping an eye on you.) Jeff allowed you to have your own room and it felt nice- having a shower and somewhere warm to sleep. You even got new clothes- most of it lounge wear but it wasn’t like Jeff liked you leaving the house- he got the most joy making you wear white dresses.

Jeff would make you play games with him. Most of them board games like chess or checkers where he would ask you questions, personal questions which you believed were meant to get under your skin, so you refused to humour him. But ignoring Jeff was never a good idea as you would find a knife pressed to your throat, the killer demanding you answer him. You did, but tried not to give too much away which still irritated him.

Of course, it didn’t help your mental state that you were living in the same house as the man who murdered your family. It drove you up the wall, you wanted to pull your hair out. You were still plagued with nightmares of that accursed night. One night, you woke up to find him at the end of your bed, watching you sleep. You had freaked out, throwing a lamp at him- hitting and screaming at him as tears left your eyes.

But he had easily subdued you, holding your head against the bed while growling at you to not do that again. You just cried- asking him why he doesn’t just kill you already? He’s taken your family and your dignity, what more could he want? Jeff drew a knife across your perfect face, before muttering- “I’m lonely…”

You were the first person he felt connected to since Liu, he’s seen you rob people- hurt people. You went from an ordinary girl to a harded thug all in the name of survival. He remembers the night you beat him into submission, tricking him with the bear trap before smashing his head in. He liked it, you won against him and you kept on winning- it felt like for the first time in a long time…. He had a friend.

You told Jeff he was insane, that the light of friendship wouldn’t reach either of you for a thousand years. That he’ll always be the man who murdered your father and his family. He then asked you about your mother. He knew your mother came to visit you at the police station where your mother thought you had also killed him. Why would your own mother do that? You hadn’t seen her since then because you didn’t want to lead Jeff to her. But he told you why.

“Because- better to believe you were the killer, that way- if you did get locked up, neither her nor her beloved baby daddy would have to deal with you anymore.- she never gave a shit…!” He cackled.

You told him to shut up, that it wasn’t true! Your mother loved you- she wouldn’t. But then he offered to drive you to your mothers home- cause last he checked, mommy was living the life with her new family- like you never existed. It broke you.

From there- Jeff grew bolded with his actions and words towards you.

One day- he brought you outside where he gave you a five minute head start to run. You questioned his motives but stated he would shove his knife up your cunt if you didn’t run and you did. You ran through the forest with only a white dress on- your bare feet making contact with the soil of the forest.

After running around the forest for an hour- he had tackled you into the dirt, you tried to fight him off  but Jeff was much stronger than you, grazing his knife over your leg. “You lost~” He cackled, before digging the knife into your flesh, You screamed your throat horse as he carved into your leg= finding out later he had carved his name into your leg before carrying you over his shoulder back home.

This became a regular game- he would let you run off- you tried your best to hide from him but he would always find you and he would always find a new spot to carve his name.

But what made it worse was not the fact he would carve his name- but what he did afterwards. He brings you home and licks your wounds clean. Kiss them and lick them as if you were a child who got a booboo. One of his favorite monikers for you was “Good girl~” and for that- he even got you a fucking collar he would make you wear if he was sadistic enough. You had to watch your attitude around him- give him the wrong look, say the wrong thing- put a foot wrong and he would find some way to punish you.

He would force you onto his lap and lift your skirt up where he would spank you- while making you look in the mirror, he would take all your clothes from you and you would be forced to walk around in only your underwear. He would deprive you of your senses, blindfold you, gag you and leave you in a chair tied up for hours- coming in occasionally to tell you of his most recent trophies- telling you about all the terrible things he did to ordinary people- men, women, children.

It was so bad, you had wet yourself one time and he has never let you live it down, laughing at you- mocking you, your humiliation was the light of his life- seeing you cry- just so he could lick those salty tears from your face.

Every day- you had lived in fear of your captor- you hated him- despised him, loathed him.

Always finding some new way to humiliate you or make you bow to him.

It at reached a point where you actually wished he had killed you- you spent two years running from this monster- two years believing he would kill you- not make you his little doll- his to torture or torment at his whim. You needed him dead… no. That was far too good for him.

You needed him to feel every single cell of humility he made you feel- you needed him to feel a fraction of what you felt- so what if you lost your dignity in the process?

It was frighteningly easy on how well you did it. Jeff had so many knives at his disposal, you were so good that day too- eating a bowl of cereal from the kitchen floor as Jeff chuckled at you before getting up to go take a piss- didn’t even notice one of his knives was missing as you slid it into the messy bun in your hair before continuing to eat your food like a dog.

Then came the night time- the part you dreaded most, but anything to make him suffer. There were many times during your life on the run where you considered selling yourself on the curb to make some quick cash- you’ve seen other women do it- it only lasts a few minutes and you would have a hundred dollars in hand. Hell, you had offers from many sketchy people, but you could never go through with it. You clung to the stupid hope that one day- you would make it out of this situation- you were already going through enough- you shouldn’t destroy your self worth for a bit of cash.

Yet here you were in your bedroom- the knife you had stolen under your pillow. You would usually be asleep around this time- and Jeff liked to come around and watch you sleep- it's what he does, but this is how you would catch him off guard. You took a shower, did your hair soft and fine- scrubbed the hair of your body- smelling really nice and even lit a candle beforehand so your bedroom had a sweet aroma. You wore the thinnest underwear set you owned, you hid under the covers and started to play with yourself.

You knew the ins and outs masturbation for a while now- while on the run, you were always stressed out and you found out that the best way to relieve yourself was by massaging your clitorus- it helped released endorphins that you desperately needed otherwise you probably would’ve put a shotgun in your mouth and blow your brains out.

You thought it through- you couldn’t make it too obvious- Jeff is too smart for that unfortunately. You heard the quiet creak of your bedroom door- your back facing it but you pretended not to hear it as you hurried with your massaging- as embarrassing as it was, you were getting turned on with your own fingering but you had to, for your plan. Your breath ragged, your face flushed red as you quickened your pace. “Fuck….fuck…” You muttered to yourself. You could feel your wetness running onto your hand- you heard his approaching footsteps- get ready.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” He cackled as he looked down at you, you quickly looked back at him- as if you didn’t know he was there. Mustering feelings of embarrassment, mortification and horror as you pulled yourself away. “Jeff! What- what are you-!?”

Yet he pulled your covers from you, revealing your underwear to his black rimmed eyes- the wet patch in your underwear, he became a shark who smelt blood in the water- you had successfully set him off.

“Oh…. baby! You should have told me you were feeling needy- that's what I’m here for~ But don’t worry, I’m gonna make it all better….now…. Open those legs for daddy~”

You cried at him to stop, but there was no stopping Jeff as he took your face and pulled you towards him, lips planting on yours as he enveloped you in a deep kiss.- your first ever kiss. You wished it was a terrible kiss- but it wasn’t. Despite his semi chapped lips- he moved his mouth against you with a swift agility- conquering your cavern with ease. His tongue invades your space as your tongue clashes with his. You wanted it to be terrible so you could have another reason to hate him- but he was so good at it!

You felt his hand lower to your underwear, his fingers sneaking into your underwear where you soaked his fingers upon touch. “Ohohoho- oh princess. You’re soaking….!” He cackled, gripping your chin and making you look into his eyes. “I hadn’t planned for this… but no time like the present- eh? Don’t you worry, I’m gonna make you feel so good~”

He made his way down your neck, between the valley of your breast where he skillfully removed your bra before kissing down your stomach before landing at your pussy. Using his teeth to remove your lace panties. You had expected him to take his dick out- you didn’t expect him to shove his tongue up there- switching between lapping at your clit and licking at the inside of your pussy. You twitched the level of pleasure unfamiliar to you, but Jeff firmly held your legs apart. “Don’t you fight me baby- no, I’m gonna make you feel higher than you’ve ever been…!” He held two of his fingers up to your mouth, saying one word. “Suck.” You obliged his commands- knowing it would get you closer to your goal as you wrapped your lips around his digits and sucked. “You filthy fucking whore- hahaha! That's right. This is who you are, a stupid slut- but that's alright. Because you’re my slut, my cunt and you won’t ever get it as good with anyone else.”

Once you were done, he used his wet digits and slid them into your pussy while continuing to lap at your clit, making you throw your head back. “Jeff! Jeff!” You cried his name, just like you had practiced, just as you rehearsed. You were so close, so very close- but you had to hold out.

Jeff was so good- he had you dripping before he took off his own clothes, his own erection intimidating as he crawled on top of you. “I love you…” You muttered.

“Oh… do you now?” He chuckled. You reaffirmed before ‘shyly’ reaching up to pull his face down to meet yours as you both shared a soft but passionate kiss as he slid inside you. You gasped- the feeling of his foreign rod as it invaded your cunny. Your captor went at a painstakingly slow pace, feeling every inch of him fuck your pussy red. “Oh baby- you're so adorable like this~” he grinned, licking more of the salty tears leaving your eyes.

He leaned his lips up to your ear, speaking softly. “You don’t mean it when you say you love me. Am I right? I fucking hate liars… but its okay, cause you’ll mean it soon- when you realise I’m the- fuck! The only one who will ever care about you-”

You struck- pulling the knife from beneath the pillow and lodging it in Jeff’s throat- halting his thrusts into your cunt. “You’re right, I don’t.” You snarl before twisting the knife and pulling it out harshly- his blood spraying all over your sweat riddled body before you kicked him off you. There he was, trying to halt the bleeding on either side of his throat as the blade went straight through. He stared up at you in shock.

That's right- you gave up your last bit of dignity- just so you could get close enough to him like this, when he had his guard down. You twirled the knife in your hand, staring down at your captor. “You must be feeling pretty small right now, huh Jeff? It must have felt good- carving me up- tormenting me…. Making me feel less than dirt. You never thought I had it in me… well guess what. I killed you once- I can do it again…!” You smirk before taking the knife and slicing at his dick- he roared in pain through his gargles of blood as you proceeded to stab him over and over again. Did he feel scared? Was he ego bruised that you managed to get the jump on him? Is he angry that he didn’t think you desperate enough to lower yourself just to get him vulnerable?

Good, you hoped he feels all of that- you hope he feels everything you felt the past you months living here under his control. You wouldn’t let anyone take control of your life again…. But what pissed you off was despite his obvious pain, he still continued to smile at you.

“God…. you’re so….*cough!**cough!* beautiful….!”

You ended it by penetrating his skull with the knife. You knew he wouldn’t stay dead for long, you dragged his ass to the bathroom, wrapped him up in a shower curtain and locked the door behind before going to his bathroom and showering all his blood off you. You could run again- maybe you’d be able to evade him for longer- but what would be the point? He would always find you, that's just how Jeff was, he would always find you no matter how far you ran.

But it wasn’t like you wanted to stay here and wait for him to regenerate. You sat on his bed, thinking of what you should do now. Then you remembered what he said… about your mother. He was known for saying a lot of shit to rile you up but your mother… you had to see for your own eyes.

You left for her house, using Jeff’s car. She still lived in that same house you had spent every summer in since you were seven. You pulled up near her house where you saw your family outside- you saw your Granny for the first time in years with your younger siblings, much taller than they had been two years prior. laughing as they followed your grandmother to her car. Then you saw your mother………and she looked well. Very well. She looked great even. Not a wrinkle on her face- not a grey hair in sight- wearing those lovely diamond earrings she received for her birthday and that fucking pearl necklace she got as an anniversary present

And her husband- the one that barely acknowledged your existence every time you visited. Smiling like the happy idiot he was as he and your mother retreated back into their house for the night- your siblings most likely going to spend the night with hers, leaving them all to yourself.

You walked up to the house, you entered the house. You thought of what you’d say to her, ‘why didn’t you believe me?’ ‘Why did you not try to look for me?’ ‘Why did you keep me around?’ but when you came face to face with them- snuggling on the couch, their faces stretched with horror at the sight of you- a weak sentence left your throat.

“Why did you not love me…?” You muttered, tears leaving.

Your mother got up, pretending to be happy as she hurried over to you, crocodile tears in her eyes- asking where you had been and why you hadn’t called her. Completely ignoring what you had just said- your step father looking completely uncomfortable at the situation. Anger rose in you as you looked in your mother’s eyes- now understanding why Jeff had detested liars as vehemently as he did. “I wish it was you he had murdered that night!…. Not dad.”

“Hey young lady!” Your step dad yelled. “You do NOT speak to your mother like that-” You silenced him with a quick slice to the throat, his blood squirted onto your mother before he fell down. Your mother screamed, cradling her now dead husband before shouting at you. Wishing you had never been born. You replied, “I wish you weren’t such a two faced bitch!” Your mother realised too late as you drew the knife on her- she cried, begged you to not do it- to think about your siblings. Well what about you? Where was all that maternal love when YOU needed it?

Your anger took over- your mother the target of your hatred as you proceeded to plunge the knife into the flesh of your beautiful and selfish mother- her screams louder the last before they had completely run dry. It was only when blood got in your eye, you pulled away to rub it, looking down at your handy work…… you realised you had destroyed your only connection to society.Your own mother.

You fell back onto your butt and pulled your knees up.

You were exactly like Jeff now- You were a monster- you took away your younger sibling’s parents, they who had never done a thing to you. You had just orphaned them within an hour. And yet… you couldn’t feel any guilt. You felt empty- maybe because it hadn’t fully hit you that you had actually murdered your mother- it felt like you were in a dream. You just stay on the carpet, staring into space. You didn’t notice Jeff enter the house from behind you. He whistled out, taking a look at your handy work.

“Congratulations- you’ve gone from an ordinary crook to a full blown killer- matricide and patricide in one go? Baby- you’re a fucking natural!” He cackled, but you were in no mood for his games.

“Just hurry up and get it over with.” You spat. “Kill me now… and end this madness..”

“Why would I want to kill you though?” he asked, even though you reiterated you chopped up his dick. “Well, that! But you reignited the very reason I fell in love with you. For a minute- I thought you had lost your fire- but what you did to me…. I gotta admit- I was pissed but you my doll- you are not just my prey anymore- you are my equal! You and I…. are gonna paint the town red~! He cackled.

It wasn’t like you had any other option. You had no more family, not a friend in the world- only Jeff, the man who murdered your family in the first place. You had no place in society, not anymore. He was your only salvation. “Come on (Y/n)...” The bastard said as he took your hand. “You and me against the world.”

Jeff once told you that he was lonely, he was a cold blooded serial killer with a taste for blood and violence- someone no one in their right mind would go near, and yet here you were, willingly going back to him. “You’re lonely without me…and I’m as alone as you are….we’re alone without each other…” You said as he pulled you up where you received a hug from him.

When was the last time you ever got a hug? Why were you crying?

“You don’t have to worry about being alone ever again… because you and I are going to be together forever~” He grinned before picking you up and carrying you out of your dead mother’s home.

SFW HEADCANONS

It's safe to say that your relationship with Jeff is unhealthy- a very toxic codependency. You no longer had anything to lose and Jeff had everything to lose if he didn’t have you. When you arrived back home- Jeff tried to play his bullshit games with you by putting your cereal on the ground- as a joke. But you had picked it up and chucked it at his head- you wouldn’t tolerate this sad sack of shit disrespecting you again.

You and Jeff would continue to get into your fights- him overpowering you- threatening you. You would slap him, spat at him, remind him that you had sliced up his dick and you weren’t afraid to do it again. He hated it when you talked back to him but at the same time- he loved how you wouldn’t just take it lying down.

Jeff would leave the house to seek out his next victims and you? You were allowed to seek out your prey. No you weren’t a fucking psycho like Jeff- but you had taken to hunting again, just like you once did with your father. The previous owners even had their own shed where they would butcher whatever they found and the first time Jeff had witnessed you come back with some hares- he asked you to hunt him for a change- to which you told him to piss off and get a life.

After returning to Jeff’s home and with the newly found freedom you suddenly had with Jeff no longer watching your every move- it was finally time you had a life When you went into town- you dawned a new name, everyone knew you as the new neighbor who lived on the outskirts of town- just married your highschool sweetheart who is often absent due to his work. Coming home one day with groceries and cleaning supplies- you heard Jeff jokingly call you Mrs Woods, after hearing about what you’ve been telling everyone in town who cared to listen which you scoffed- stating that it would look less suspicious if you two were living there permanently. He then reminded you that you had no wedding ring which was already a dead give away.

One of the days- he dragged a victim back to your home, torturing her in the basement. You were pissed off at him, bringing them to where you live was fucked. He could do what he liked- you didn’t care- but to risk the authorities finding her here. He told you to shut it before holding up her arm- on her hand was a golden ring with a decent sized rock on top- she whined as he slipped it off her finger and got down on one knee for you.

“My darling dove- my beloved bitch. Will you do the honour of being my cherished wife~?”

That pissed you off-it was bad enough this fucker took away your life, now he was making a mockery of marriage- a distant dream of yours where you would live happily unlike your parents. You stomped away and didn’t leave your room for two days- only leaving for snacks and water. Jeff didn’t realise how badly he fucked up when he had enough and walked into your room- you weren’t on the bed, you were hiding under it.

When asked what your deal is- you laid it all out for him. He says he cares about you- but there was nothing caring about him at all- he was an absolute dickhead with no thought to how you feel- calling you a bitch and proposing to you in the same breath? You had seen enough of your parent’s marriage to know you never wanted a relationship like theirs. If he really fucking cared- if he really wanted you to be his partner- he better clean up his damn act!

For a while- the two of you ignored each other, but one of you realised that the silent treatment wasn’t getting you anywhere. One day, you woke up to a bouquet of roses on your bedside table with a small note reading: ‘Friends?’

Jeff started leaving you more gifts- flowers, snacks, necklaces. Anything just for you to talk to him again and you did. He gave you the engagement ring for you to wear around town- but you warned him that you would never say yes to a man you didn’t love. Although you and him treated each other better- didn’t mean he was any easier to live with.

Though he likes looking after himself (And looking at himself), he has no problem leaving whatever room he’s been in to look like a bomb went off. He’ll leave the house to do what he does best and who is left to clean up? You. The kitchen, the bathroom and the living room. You didn’t bother to touch his room because you weren’t the one who had to sleep in it. Although it didn’t help he would come into your room and sleep in your bed. You would tell him to go back to his bed but his response would be-

“But your bedroom is a lot nicer than mine….”

“THEN CLEAN IT UP YOU PIG!”

After a few weeks of this- you got sick of his filthy ways before ambushing him one morning as he slept in your bed with a cold bucket of water “I’m your partner- not your fucking maid! You have two choices- clean up after yourself and clean your room, or I’m cutting myself in the bath, bleed to death and then you can clean up my corpse when I’m dead!” 

“Fucking broads..” He muttered but took the hint- doing his part and cleaning up after himself.

At some point in your relationship, the two of you get closer. You wondered where he got his piercings done before he told you he did them himself. Make sense- no one with common sense would give someone as scary looking as Jeff a piercing. He offers to do them for you and you rebuff this at first- not exactly trusting a psycho killer to pierce you anywhere. But he badgers you on and on until you say yes.

He pierces your ears, he pierces your tongue and he pierces your belly button- unlike him, you clean your piercings so they don’t get infected. What you would give for super healing.

You still enjoy a recreational game with one another, he even stole a gaming console and some games where you both get to enjoy some video games. He liked GTA while you played sims. You also get together once in a while to watch movies. If you're watching a horror movie- Jeff might critique how someone gets murdered or say how inaccurate the amount of blood came out of the victim, some movies- he’ll take inspiration from and note of what he’ll do to his next victim. If it's a romance- he’ll critique both the male and female leads- talking about how imperfect they are compared to you two. Now comedy… if it's a normal comedy where funny things happen and jokes are cracked, you’ll both laugh- if it's a horror comedy where the killer or monster makes a joke, Jeff will laugh his ass off while you just sit there awkwardly.

Jeff loves you cooking food for him. You hadn’t had a proper meal before coming to live with Jeff, you got a cookbook and went off from the instructions which was actually a lot simpler than it looked, what made meals better were the drinks. Jeff loved a beer with his dinner which surprised you, for a guy who drinks so much- he didn’t have the body of one. You remembered your dad would always store pint glasses in the freezer so when it was time for a drink, the beer would stay cold. You started doing this and Jeff loved it so much, he would go through a whole beer before having a second one with his dinner. You weren’t one to fish for compliments but Jeff would always show his appreciation for you one way or another. Whenever you sit down for a meal, it's the only time he shuts up and doesn’t annoy you.

Even though he has learned to clean up after himself and has a tidy room, he still likes slipping into your room for a cuddle. It stills agitating, his bigger body coming to spoon your smaller figure as if you were a teddy bear. Jeff sleeping to you was still a mystery, he never blinks and always wears an eye mask to bed, very confusing to you.

“Remember when we fucked for the first time here?” He would whisper in your ear. “You wanna do it again?” You sent a fist into his balls and kicked him out of your bed.

Sooner or later, you get the balls to ask Jeff about his past, you wonder what he could have been like- assumed he might have had a terrible home life if he became this. He tells you about his early years on the military base with his aggressive and misogynistic dad whom his mom hated until he returned from abroad a broken man. He told you about Liu, his younger brother and the only friend he ever had. The only one besides you who managed to escape his murderous rampage. About the three assholes who burned him… then he told you about a hooded figure who came to him on death’s doorstep.

It didn’t know what irked you most, the fact that everything that has happened to Jeff was by his own doing or the fact that he was visited by a literal demon who turned him into a monster. When questioning Jeff further about the hooded demon- Jeff was annoyed, saying that he didn’t know much else other than the fact it called itself the Angel of Sleep. What kind of demon refers to itself as an angel? That would be a mystery for another day.

At one point, you believed you couldn’t care less about what happens to Jeff or what he does. As long as the two of you could learn to co-exist together, you could live with that. But what you didn’t expect was for the FBI to be on your tail again. The agents had tracked Jeff to your shared home , you were upstairs in your bedroom, reading a book when you heard a gunshot. You looked outside where you saw Jeff on the ground bleeding from a myriad of gunshot wounds, multiple armed agents pointing their guns at him.

“Jeffrey Woods, on behalf of the United States’ Government, you are hereby arrested on multiple accounts of homicide, arson, assault, battery, theft, kidnapping and torture!” You didn’t know what you were thinking, you could have let Jeff get taken. When they find out he can’t die- they’ll more than likely lock him away in a high security facility where he would never see the light of day again. You? Without him breathing down your neck- you were free. You could leave the country and move to Europe, rewrite your entire life.

You had no idea why you took your rifle, leaned it out the window and began firing off at the agents. You took at least three out before they began firing off at you. Hiding by the wall by the wall as the glass broke. This gave Jeff the time he needed to recover before killing the rest of the FBI agents.

“Awww…. You really do love me, don’t ya?” He cackled.

You couldn’t give him a real answer, you despised him- but without him… you were alone. You didn’t understand these feelings of loyalty you had for him, he didn’t deserve them for what he’s done to you, you hate him, you hated him so much- you!

“Come here baby.” He huffed, pulling you in for a hug, petting your head, his lips brushing against your ear. “Who’s my good girl…? That's right, it's you… you’re my good girl..”

You were absolutely fucked. How did you not realise it before? During the duration of your relationship, you had actually begun to fall for Jeff, despite how wicked and cruel he was. Was this what they call Stockholm Syndrome? Where one falls for the captor and gives up all control to them out of some sick and twisted loyalty?

“Don’t leave me Jeff…. You’re not allowed to leave me..ever.” You muttered.

“Cross my heart and hope to die.” He smirked.

NSFW HEADCANONS 

As your affections for Jeff grew, so did a certain possessiveness that you didn’t know existed until you found him buried in another woman. After you returned home- you refused to have any sort of sexual encounter with him- he complained of course. You were so willing to fuck him if it meant getting back at him but not when you two were at a good place. Because you were still repulsed by him, you washed yourself fervantly after fucking him the first time, you told yourself it was a one time thing that would never happen again so long as you lived.

But after a while- Jeff got tired of you rejecting his advances. Your relationship didn’t exactly have a label and neither of you cared to put one on it. Again, you didn’t really care what Jeff did as long as you could maintain peace in your shared home. You had come home with a few birds and saw the dimmed light coming from Jeff’s bedroom. Again, you didn’t pay it any mind.

It was only when you opened the door to the house- could you hear a bitch moan, you dropped the birds and reloaded your gun. Something violent boiled within you as you slowly made your way up the stairs and over to Jeff’s door, slightly ajar.

Jeff was atop of a girl who kept her legs wrapped firmly around his waist, begging for more of what he had to give as he fucked harder and quicker. He would always tell you, you were lucky to have him, girls kill each other just to get near him. You thought that was just his narcissism talking- you didn’t think he was telling the truth. But the fact this mother fucker thought it was cool to fuck up your life, chase you for two years, keep you captive, get his ass saved by you only for him to fuck some other bitch?

You practically kicked the door down, Jeff getting off the girl who got up, holding HIS fucking white hoodie over her body, what sickened you worse was that she looked alot like you. Skin colour and body type, hair color and length, eye colour and height. “(Y/n)-, baby. This is-” You blew the cunt’s head off before Jeff got the chance to tell you her name. He looked stunned, and then worried as you drew your gun on him. “Darling- lets no do something that will-”

You fucking blew hole after hole after hole into this motherfucker’s body before he fell dead….for now. Why did you kill him? Why were you so fucking angry? Its not like you actually wanted to be with Jeff- he was a fucking psycho, he was a murderer, he was a-

‘Oh my god, would you stop fucking kidding yourself?’

Who said that….?

‘You shot him and that girl up because how dare he make you fall for him and then fuck someone else? He took your life and made it his- surely he owes us his life in return. You’re not jealous- because that would mean you want something that someone else has. Jeff belongs to you and you’ll be damned if you let him run around and screw whoever he wants.’

Yes… that was it. That was exactly it. Sure, you still loathed Jeff- but at the same time, you loved him. You don’t care how many women he’s been with- he was yours the day he murdered your family- he needs to be reminded he wasn’t the only killer in the house.

So while he was dead, you dragged his body and the body of his ‘mistress’ into the backyard, dug a three foot hole, dumped both their bodies insides and proceeded to fill it back up, tossing his clothes to the ground before stomping back inside. But that wasn’t enough for you. He’ll come back to life like nothing happened and do the same shit again, no- you couldn’t let that happen… you needed him to know if he wasn't off limits to anyone who wanted him, neither would you. Which is why for this first time in your life, you dolled yourself up. Makeup, skimpy clothes, heels and went into town, Attracting as many men as you could and asking them to come back to your home while your husband was ‘away’.

It was a lot simpler than you thought. Most of them bragging about how they wanted to fuck a ‘hot wife’. You gave them all beer and it wasn’t long before you were practically surrounded by them. Complimenting you, telling you how sexy you were, one tracing his hand up your skirt while another began leaving kisses on your neck. It felt great, but the cherry on top was seeing Jeff- regenerated, filthy from the dirt and mud- wearing the wet clothes you callously left on the grass enter the living room. You could see the five stages of grief on his face, the disbelief that you of all people would sleep around. That you would have the gall to fuck anyone but him- then came the rage.

He left for a second and for a minute, you believed he was leaving you alone with these bastards- was he really gonna let you get fucked by strangers? You only did this because you thought he would intervene before they actually did anything-

“ROAR!”

“ROAR!”

“ROAR!”

“Hey, is that a chainsaw I hear?” One of the guys feeling you up asked.

Jeff came back into the room, a chainsaw roaring in his hands, his eyes glaring daggers at you. “YOU FUCKING BITCH!” The next thing you know, the whole living room was painted red. The men who were originally trying to fuck you were screaming like bitches- trying to escape, to run away but Jeff was quicker. The blood types of different men splashed over you as if you had come down a long water slide, organs and intestines flying all over the place, limbs getting decapitated in one swipe, a head fell into your lap before you smacked it off in terror.

“You..” Jeff dropped his chainsaw, looking down at you with rage, his permanent grin in an impossible frown as he dropped the chainsaw. You thought he was gonna argue, shout and scream at you. But he said nothing. His silence was terrifying.

He came at you, backhanding you across the floor before tearing your clothes off. “You don’t like me fucking other cunts, fine? All you had to do was give me yours and I wouldn’t have had too.”

Jeff fucked you raw in that sea of blood, both of your bodies lathered in that metaliic red liquid. He wrapped his hands around your throat, choking the air out of your lungs and he fucked you hard with a roughness and precision you hadn’t felt the first time you and him did it. And as embarrassing as it was for you to admit- you came so hard.

He pulls your hair, he spits in your mouth, he suffocates you with his hands around your throat and you just take it all in. When he’s finished with you, you’re left crying on the floor, he picks you up, stuffs you in the shower and turns on the faucet, letting hot water drench your body.

After that night, it was both decided neither of you would ever go for other people again lest you suffer each other's wrath. He didn’t appreciate being buried alive whats her face and you didn’t like being manhandled like that in a pile of corpses. But like all toxic relationships, you kiss, make up and put it behind you. 

The type of sex you and Jeff have ranges between angry/violent sex whenever you two have an argument to loving and soft when you are having a really bad day and Jeff decides not to be an ass for once.

It shocked you how his dick remained in perfect condition after the first time you disfigured it. He was a shower, at six and a half inches, his rod was pale with a perfect baby pink tip which in your mind shouldn’t even be possible- but then again. You never really had a chance to experiment with other dicks, not that you wanted to. 

Sex was with him was a frequent thing- he would come home after killing a bunch of people and before, he would satiate his lust with others- now you were the target of his affections. He would come in, still soaked in the blood of his victims and he would demand you shed your clothes. You would remove them as quickly as you could before Jeff had his way with you. In the Kitchen, the bathroom, the living room- anywhere. He once got you in the laundry room after you had put a load in and fucked you on top of the washing machine as it ran, you both agreed to fuck on the washing machine again. (And put another load on to wash the bloodied clothes.)

He even started up his hide and seek games again- where instead of carving you up, he fucks you. Initially, you were against the idea but then he gave you a nine millimeter handgun and the keys to his car. You could go as far as you want with any weapon you want. He’d hunt you down and you would have more advantages to escape. Thus began a catastrophe of murder and death as you would go missing for weeks at a time, setting traps like you did before- shooting Jeff on sight before running off to the next town.

It brought you back to the time where you were a runaway teenager- robbing and squatting to survive, you enjoyed it. You could whatever you wanted so long Jeff didn’t catch you. But then… you would get lonely. And while you did enjoy being hunted- you also missed him.

Sometimes, he would find you while you were off guard- others, you would let him catch you. But in both circumstances, he is fucking your brains out with you clawing at his pale leather back.

Most of your sexual encounters came consensually, without transactions. But sucking his dick? If Jeff wanted you to suck his dick- he would have to do something for you in exchange. Because whenever this guy got his dick in your mouth- he would degrade you, humiliate you with the most vile curses, pull at the roots of your mouth while suffocating you with his cock- so yeah. No way you would suck his dick unless you got something for your troubles- but Jeff had no problem eating you out for free. In his own words- you quote: “Best pussy I’ve had.”

This man loves to fuck you raw- no protection, you can get it any time, anywhere. He’s cumming in you and on you. On your face, in your hair, on your tits, on your back, your thighs- anywhere. Hell, this prick will pull out, cum on your underwear and pull it back on you. He’ll even snap a picture on his phone just so he can send it to you later.

Just hope neither of you act surprised when you use a pregnancy test and the two lines show. Doesn’t matter if you’re freaking the fuck out or calm about the situation, because no matter what- Jeff wants that baby. Yeah- Jeff of all people wanting to be a dad? You think he’d be the last person on earth who wants to be a dad, but no. He would see that fetus as an extension of himself and the minute that baby pops out- it’s gonna learn how to slit its throat before it walks or talks. You? No point in walking away now- cause you could have run away a long time ago, you chose to stay… besides.

You’ll finally have a family again…. But not the way you imagined it.