âź Asking the creeps to get matching things with you âź
GN!Reader for most, slightly implied fem!reader with Nina
Includes: Mankindâs Bad Habit, Tobias Rogers, Tim Wright, Natalie Ouellette, Nina Hopkins, Jeffery Woods, Cody/Liam Williams, Brian Thomas, Liu Woods
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
SYNOPSIS; weed and makeouts were nothing short of a daily late-night session with BEN. But when Jeffrey comes over and tries to snag you away, things get... interesting.
TW; weed, a bong, cocaine, drugs during sex, spanking, spitting, biting, mentions of blood, jealousy sex, choking, knife is involved, double penetration, vaginal and anal penetration, dacryphilic sex, mommy nickname, multiple creampies but reader does NOT get pregnant, squirting, double blowjob, degradation, somnophilia, dubcon, nippleplay , ben x jeff if you squint, inaccurate drug effects (author has not taken weed nor cocaine before)
WORD COUNT; 6,629 words
dividers done by @/saradika-graphics
Game Over.
That flashed in your face about five times now. Ah, maybe ten. Two simple words. Both in red, glitchy little pixels that made a two-bit crashing sound roaring through the foggy screen.
The noises of BENâs room were nothing but a blur right now. BEN chucks another monster in the bin. Jeffrey coughs, spits, then cackles. The weed sizzles under the ember of his lighter.Â
You come to them every time for your daily ritual: smoke, get high, make out, pass out, repeat. Jeffrey joins in, naturally. Often bloody and stinking of sweat and unwashed clothes. But today, he wasâ quite oddlyâ clean.
You remembered BENâs joke: âHeâs either gone actually insane, or heâs just trying to get some pussy tonight.â
You giggle, half-mindedly. Part of you believes it.Â
The bong sits idly between your legsâ itâs BENâs. A little heavy, but the glass is thin. Does its job, nonetheless.Â
The weed seems to scrape at your throat when you take another hit. You tilt your head back, close your eyes, thenâ
âAh,â your chest heaves. You can feel your bra dig into the edge of your tits when you arch your torso back, shoulders supported by your bare arms planted behind your back.Â
âDonât smoke all the kush, bitch.â BEN laughs at you, eyes flicking down your see-through tank that showed all your gloryâ even your hot pink bikini set. âPass it,â the bong tilts against you, the rim kissing just a bit over your stomach. You grin, the high already taking the toll of your judgement.Â
You push the bong with the last of your ability, feeling Jeff lift it away from your legs.
The flared bottom of the glass hits the seam of your crotch at just the right angle, earning Jeff an involuntary jolt from your body, followed with a tiny gasp. It hit just where your clit is.
âYour bitch takes one goddamn hit and sheâs already horny?âÂ
BEN rolls his eyes at Jeffâs comment, shrugging. âI only get the good shit. Sue me.â He clicks his tongue, taking the long tube into his lap now. âAnd,â he lights the bowl. âShe ainât my bitch.âÂ
âIâm not nobodyâs bitch, asshole.â You give both of them the finger, twisting your body toward your side, reaching for Jeffâs pack of cigs. You remember where it fell when he took off his hoodie.
You manage to finger one, briefly scoffing at the brand. Some cheap bootleg version of red Marlboro, no doubt. You forget the name the moment you light it up.
âCome on, baby,â BEN passes the bong to Jeff. âI know you get cranky when you donât get your fill of me.â You let him dive his head into your neck, tilting your head when he sucks at your skin.Â
You can feel him smile against you.
Your nails scrape against the crown of his scalp, earning you a satisfied purr-like moan from the blonde, humming when he shifts slowly down to kiss your breasts.
Just when you feel him taking way too much of you, the knuckles of your fingers flex to grip near the roots of his hairâ and you pull.
His head drops back dramatically, whining at the loss of contact. âUgh,â he groans, taking your hand away from his head and against the side of his face. âWhy do you push me away the second I start giving you my love, mami?â He pouts. A little cute, but ultimately fruitless, considering youâve seen it a hundred times.
His eyebrows knit together in desperation, and you can see his vacant arm reach down to adjust his sweatpants in favor of hiding his hard-on you already knew was there.Â
Jeffrey scoffs somewhere behind BEN, his shadow vaguely stretched over against the blinking colors of the (forgotten) game on BENâs TV.Â
âSo you twoâer gettinâ it on while I smoke here like a sad ass hoe?âÂ
BEN turns to Jeff, while youâ high and pliantâ keep your eyes on the lazy blonde. Your fingers snake up the side of his scalp, slowly dragging down his signature green hat and holding it up to your nose, breathing in his scent, paying no mind to the bickering happening right in front of you.
âShe likes me, bro. âSides, ainât you got one of them hot-ass strippers go down on you just last night?âÂ
The sting of BENâs words pinch at your heart just a little, but you get over it.
âNot as hot as her,â Jeff cocks his head at you.Â
You raise an eyebrow at him, setting the hat downâ somewhere. Then, without a word, you raise yourself on your knees, then on all foursâŠ
And started crawling towards Jeff.
You stop once you feel his breath on your face. You smile at him, tilting your head. Then, your arm reaches out, palm pressing against the rises and the dips of his abs and ribs.
BEN was watching. You knew. You want him to.
Then, without proper judgement, you dip your head until your lips meet the veins of his neck. Thick and beating. Cold. But you feel how firm he is.
Jeffrey goes with it instantly.
His canines sink into you the moment you give him the chance. Rough and deep, you were bracing for it. Your knees press further in between his spread-out legsâ not to hurtâ to tempt. Jeffâs legs close around your hips. Steady. Like heâs keeping you there. Trapping you.
You give into it, of course. You lean forward until both your chests were pushing on each other.Â
A little more and youâd fuse.
He lifts his head just slightly to get an attack on your jaw next, but your lips catch his before he even gets the chance to breathe.Â
Jeffrey was sure you were trying to fucking devour him by the way you started going at it. The taste of weed licks against his tongue, warm and nasty and all kinds of fucked up.Â
Somewhere in the mix, you couldâve sworn you hear BEN whimper, but you pay no mind.
Then a twinge of evil stirs in you. You grin against his teeth.
And bit on his lip.
The angle youâre in gives you leverage to sink the edge of your teeth into the red of his coarse lips, breaking skin and drawing blood.
âHrkââ Jeff jolts, then shivers. He likes this.
You pull back slowly, his lips still in between your bite.Â
Then you let go.
Jeffrey blinks once. Then smirks, clicking his tongue.
âNasty. Fucking. Bitch.â he sputters, eyeing you up and down, slowly. He lifts your tank, all the way until the fabric overlaps just below your collar bones, to which he just slips his fingernails under, while the rest of his hands work to firmly grip the curvature of your tits with only your bra separating your bare skin and his cold handsâ
âNow this is just borderline cheating,âÂ
Your head slowly turns back to where BEN was sitting.Â
Leaned back on his arms, his head was leaning down but his eyes remained fixed on youâ no longer that signature goofy and lazy tugâ a little hurt, actually. Angry now. Pissed. Youâre sure heâs pissed.
âYou have any idea how much Iâve done for you? How much Iâve sacrificed to even keep you alive?â BENâs voice changed, too. Not dragged out, cold and calculating.Â
âYou fucking whore. You just donât think, huh? You see dick and all of a sudden you go hopping on it like a depraved dog. Goinâ on, takinâ fuckinâ carousel rides on dicks that belong to a fucking murderer.â
Jeffrey clicks his tongue. âOh, fuck off, with your whiny ass. Your hands arenât clean either, and you ainât remotely close to being a saintââ
âShut up and let me talk,â BEN interrupts. âIf she wants to start shit, then we give it to her.â
Then out of nowhere, something glints sharply enough to catch your eye, behind BENâ
a knife.
âBut this shit? We do it on my terms. Youâre on my fuckinâ turf now, baby. Iâm not letting you get out so easily.â He points the edge of the silver blade toward you, then down between the string of your bikini top.
âMaybe you havenât even seen the fucked-up shit Iâve done but maybeâŠâ
Carefully, but painfully calculated and with the most accurate aim youâve ever seen up close, âYouâd see what I might do.â he cuts the tiny string in half.
Without another click, BEN nods his head at Jeff like a silent, telepathic language only they alone could understand. Your body swivels towards BEN by the help of Jeffâs strong bare arms, then painfully thudding back on the bones of his chest.Â
You feel like your breath got knocked out from the deep of your lungs.
And you were sure the weedâs taken possession of every nerve in your body by the way you gave in, and you were sure they knew it too.
You barely even make out BENâs fingers until his cold touch reaches the mound of your tits and peels the sorry excuse of a bra off of your skin, then thrownâ somewhere in the void of dirty laundry and forgotten pizza boxes. Your tits bounce in greeting the cold air, nipples hard long before he even pulls out the knife, now laying on the rug with its purpose done and over.
The same evil that made you pursue Jeff tinges your mind once again, making you giggle once more, taking your own tits in your palms and squeezing. Itâs only now you even registered Jeffâs arms anchoring you from behind and around your neck, cutting off almost half of what you breathe in.
âNo, you fuckinâ donât, bitch,â BEN snags your own arms away from your body, throwing them to the back of your sides before leaning in to lick at your nipples. Your hands try to throw themselves at his hair, but theyâre once again locked down by half of BENâs weight that gave your wrists a firm push against the floor.Â
Jeffrey leans in hungrily in your ear, tongue dragging across the edges of the cartilage. âAss up, baby. Let me see it allââ
BEN lifts up from your nipple with a sickeningly filthy pop! from your skin. âNobody tells anybody shit to do unless itâs me.âÂ
Jeffrey grunts in protest, his intention to have his own show of you short-lived by the hand of his best-friend. His headlock on your neck loosens just a little, but retreats back to its position and pulls your body back against him. âLoosen up, bitchtits. Mama ainât teach you how to share?â
BEN sits still. His eyes. His goddamn eyes. They were different now, and you know it isnât the lighting. Theyâre much darker, more than his usual bright red.
Suddenly, his hand shoots out and clamping onto the sides of Jeffâs jaw earning him a choke from the pale man. Jeffreyâs arm, now loose and planted on the floor, setting you free and sprawled lazily on the floor behind BEN, leaving you to watch and laugh at their little debacle.Â
The heat between your legs could only get hotter seeing them arguing. You liked BEN like this. Even more when heâs angry. Pissed, actually. You like him when heâs pissed. Furious and scary. A chill shivers down your spine whenever you think about it: BEN being violent in the things he does, whether heâs giving his victim a good stabbing, or just aggressively sharpening his arrows ready for hunting.
You feel your cunt leaking a little more at the thought. Even more now that his best buddyâs here.
âListen, fucknut. Youâre in my fucking room smoking my fucking weed and lapping up on my girl. You want in? You listen to me.â BEN shakes his jaw one more time. âIf you step out of line one more time, Iâll kick you to the curb right outside my door for the whole night. You get that?â
Jeffrey grins. Then chuckles. âYeah⊠yeah.â
BEN hums, lowering his head slowly looking back at you, still gone and over your own head, laughing at fucking nothing.
He takes his hand away from Jeffâs face and slowly shuffles to you, cooing with his palms casing your face while his arm carries the curve of your back. âPoor baby,â he kisses your cheek and you hum. âYou want him? Want him to fuck your brains out?â You smile, gently cupping his face and nodding. âMhmm,â
Your clit rubs against the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms just under the denim of your shorts. You can feel your cunt pulse against BENâs thigh when he starts giving you hickeys.
You manage to wriggle your shorts off, tossing them aside and rubbing your almost-bare cunt on his knee.Â
The euphoria hit you like a wave.Â
âOh fuck!â Your head falls back, hips twitching up and down against BEN. âLook at that,â he coos, âYou finally let me see you, huh, baby?â
BEN turns to Jeffrey, beckoning him over to youâ and Jeff, taking the signal, slips his cock out to stroke it. His cock was already too slimy to hold properly. Youâre fucking hot, sue him.
Jeffrey dips down as soon as BEN shuffles to your side, sliding your panties aside.
âHoly shit, dude. What the fuck?â Jeff could almost drool at the side of your cunt. Small compared to his cock, glistening from the juices of your own arousal, twitching and clamping and dripping over nothing. He shoves his fingers inside, two, long, and bony digits, rubbing on your walls. You could almost scream from the relief. Jeffrey laughs once, then starts fucking you with his fingers like you owed him your life.
The bones of your back arch painfully in response to his maneuvers, twitching in sync to whenever the pads of his fingers pressed on the gummy spot deep within your pussy.
Wailing, your hands shoot to try and weaken the vigor of Jeffâs fingers before BEN grips it midway.Â
âShh baby itâs okay,â he whispers against your ear, thumb rubbing against your knuckles. Then, he reaches behind him to take a long drag from a blunt he lit maybe just a while ago. You donât know. Time is warped to you now.
He brings the blunt in between your lips, and you take a hit almost immediately. You hum when you see the smoke slip out of your nose, and you barely can even take a breath before he leans down to kiss you. âThatâs it, good girlâŠâ
âCome on, up,â BEN lifts you up gently while Jeff eases to take his fingers out of your pussy and waits until youâre sitting tall enough against BENâs chest to see him.
Slowly, Jeffrey lifts his fingers up to his mouth and sucks, the pink of his tongue peeking out in between his fingers and dragging up to the tips, savoring all the juices and the squirt of whatever you let out.
âSweet,â Jeff grunts. âLike I knew she would be.â
BENâs body frames yours, his chin resting in between the curve of your shoulder and neck. âYou ready for him, baby girl?â he snickers at your trembling frame, sensitive and almost completely limp. âHeâs not exactly⊠small.â
It was only then when you had the strength to lift yourself up enough to see what youâre really dealing withâ
At least nine, long inches. Purple tip dripping sticky, thick, off-white cum down his pale skin and onto his heavy balls.
âIâm telling you now, pretty girl, heâs not easy.â you can hear the smirk in BENâs voice. Youâre scared. And horny. And youâre opening your legs wider.Â
You can hear them laugh to each other. âWell, if you say so, sweetie.â
The stretch from his cock almost makes you scream. He hooks the bend of his elbows under your knees, lifting and propping your legs on his shoulder.
BEN hated how your legs looked so natural on his shoulders. Like you were meant to be there. Belonged. In Jeffâs arms and his arms only.
Jeffâs cock starts pistoning in and out of you with a pace nothing short of violent, hips slamming against yours. Your slick was sputtering everywhere against Jeffreyâs weight every time your skins met. The sheer force of his own thrusting sent the juices of your cunt far enough to let some of the drops land on BENâs bottom lip.
BEN felt it. He felt all of it.Â
âFucking tight cunt,â Jeff groans, eyes rolling back whenever your pussy clamps down around him. âDonât worry. Weâll fix that.â
Jeff cages your body with his arms planted on the floor with your head in between, sending your legs even further back with your knees almost to your ears now.
Youâd believe it if he was possessed by the way he fucked you like an animal.
It took everything in you to not break apart right then and there. You howled with how hard and deep and fast he was getting, and you were pushing on his shoulders to at least slow him down a little, but that proved to be fruitless when he pins your wrist down.
BEN lowers the same blunt to your face once again, cooing something about hitting it (your ears are ringing now), before he wedges it in between your lips and letting you take another hit.
Your legsâ your bodyâ felt like jelly now. Everything was whirling around, blurring in colors when you felt your orgasm come closer and closer. You were nearing the peak of your climax, the peak of your sanityâ
âStop,â BENâs voice booms through the blur. Jeffrey doesnât listen, he only lets go of your wrists to push on your knees, sinking them deeper beyond your limit.
âI said,â BEN grips Jeffâs jaws again, forcing him to look in his blood red eyes. âStop.â
You can hear his voice through the grit of his teeth. BEN kicks Jeffrey right just above his hips, sending him to tumble back while the blonde remains behind, still holding you steadily.
You were crying now. The sudden loss of intense pleasure was too much for you to process in due time, not to mention the weedâs influence getting stronger. You whined, trying to make up for your lost orgasm by desperately grinding up in the air and ultimately onto nothing.
âBenââ You reach for him, sobbing. âBenâ Benny, please, noââÂ
ââS okay, baby. Iâll have him back on you in no time. Jusâ wanna see you, yeah?â BEN cradles your head in his arms and starts kissing your jaw down your neck and onto your tits. âBenâ here, here Benââ your fingers reach down to tap on your clit. âKiss me hereâ pleashâŠBennyâŠâÂ
BEN grins. Your attention was on him, now.Â
âYou want me there, baby? On your cute little clit?â He dives down in between your shaking legs, tongue swiping on the small, sensitive, sticky nub. His lips wrap around it before you can think of anything elseâ
And he sucks. Moans like heâs never tasted anything better. Then lets go with a deafening pop.
Behind him, Jeff was still tending to his hard-on. His tip was angry and twitching, frustrated at the loss of you. âAsshole,â he mutters, fist aggressively fucking his cock.
BEN hums, licking his bottom lip (and your juices along with it), before whistling to Jeffrey like an owner beckoning his dog over. âCâmere. Since you wanna bitch and moan at the thought of not having pussy for one fucking minute.â
With a sneer, Jeffrey crawls over.Â
âHold her up. And keep her there.âÂ
And like a dog, Jeffrey obliges, taking you on his lap, muttering against your collarbone. âMissed you so fuckinâ much, baby..â You giggle, lightly slapping at his chest. âI wasnât even gone for five minutes!â
You could feel BENâs stare way before he placed his cold hands on your hips. Whistling at the view of your ass (and your dripping pussy), he slaps your ass red, laughing at how you sway your hips for him in response.
With a blunt in between his lips, BEN takes off his own shirt and undoes the buckle of his pants, leaving it to pool around his knees while he just tucks the garter snapping it on the middle of his thighs.
You can feel the weight of his cock slap at the curve of your ass.
âEase her down. Donât let go until Iâm in, too.âÂ
âWait! â what?? NoâI canât take both of youââÂ
âYeah, you can, baby. We believe in ya,â BEN pats your hips.
âI really really canâtââ
âShe just needs some motivation,â Jeff reaches into his discarded hoodie pocket and pulls out a bag of fine, white, gritty powderâ all inside a ziploc bag labeled JEFF across the bag in big, red letters. Jeff-style.
With only one hand, he wedges his fingertips in between the bag, snapping the thin red lock open. Then, he licks the same two fingers he used on your pussy earlier, dips it into the white powder, and takes it up in front of your face.
âSay ah.â You oblige, choking at him taking a hold of your tongue and swiping the powder on the flesh, leaving smudged, pasty white streaks on the pink muscle. He pushes your mouth shut, tilting your head forward. You swallow.
The adrenaline hits a little longer than you expected it to, and the euphoria isnât too overwhelming, but youâre higher and hornier, nonetheless. Dizzier.
You slowly sink yourself onto Jeffrey, wincing at him laughing at you before you moan at the feeling of his balls meeting the edge of your pussy.
Youâre all the way down.
BEN circles the tight ring in between the break of your ass with his thumb. âYou prepped for me, baby?â You nod, a light blush dusting your cheeks. Jeff scoffs, âBitch was waiting for us to fuck her this whole time.â
You turn back to Jeff. âNot like youâre complaining, are you, asshole?â
âNah,â He flashes his sharp canines at you, âBut heâs about to fuck yours.â
With no time to even respond, BEN pushes the tip of his cock in, groaning at your ass squeezing the life out of him.Â
You wail. You feel Jeffreyâs cock twitching inside your cunt while BEN advances deeper and deeper inside your ass instead. You feel the LEDs of BENâs room flashing all over you. You feel the buzz of all his tech humming unattended. You feel scared. Excited. Desperate. You feel the weed. You feel the cocaine. You feel everything.
You could barely even process it when BEN bottoms out in you. Itâs all too much.
âCould feel your cock all the way here, bitchtitsâ fuuuuck,â Jeffrey groans, grinding his hips into yours.
âFeel good, mama?â BEN grunts against your ears, anchoring your hips while you feel Jeff squeeze on your tits and messing with your nipples.
âSheâs shaking like a fucking leaf.â Jeff slaps your tits, making you flinchâ then whine.Â
BEN huffs. âI know. What a poor baby, huh? You like getting DPâd when youâre this high?â Your whole world crumbles in ecstasy when they both start moving. BEN was slow, making sure you felt all of it. Jeffrey, however, aggressive in nature, slams his hips up to yours while anchoring himself on your shaking thighs as leverage, shoulders situated on the floor like a fuck machine.
âFuck yeaaah,â you can even see him drool over this like a fucking dog.Â
You canât help but sob in ecstasy. How else were you supposed to deal with this much libido, especially when youâre this high up in the clouds?
BENâs pace accelerates against youâ heâs slamming into your ass at this point, stinging red warming over the fatâ a mark. âYou feel me, baby? Feel me all the way up in your fucking guts? Thatâs me, baby, allâa me. You gonna take it all? Show me,â
BENâs cock was about at the same girth as Jeffâs, maybe even more, but fuck, youâd be lying if you said it didnât feel goddamn good.
You cry out, leaning forward and onto your palms, arching your back over Jeffâs heaving, moving body. You were all on fours nowâ giving BEN a view of all whatâs left of your body, thighs shaking and ass rippling from the force of his and Jeffâs fucking.Â
âFuckinâ come over here,â Jeff holds your ribs and brings his face to your tits, wasting no time to bite and suck and lap at your tits, and you flinch every time the sharp of his teeth pierces your skin.
Wailing and shaking and crying like a madman, your body jolts when you feel your orgasm crash over youâ properly this time, no disruptionsâ spilling over what sanity you have leftâ
âShiiiit!â you scream, you didnât care who heard you. You stopped caring long ago.
It crashed on you like a building finally falling on its last brick. The irises of your eyes seemed to fade away when they rolled back to the very depths of your own skull. White, creamy slick spilling and pouring down Jeffâs cock and onto BENâs balls while you ride out the high.
But they didnât stop. Not for a second.
They continue to fuck up into you. You were sure you were about to fall apart with how deep both of them are inside.
âWait! â wait!! Iâm breaking, Iâm fucking breakingâ please! Fuck, pleasââ Youâre choking on your own words. âI already cameâ what the fuh-fuhckkââ
âWeâre not done yet, dollface,â Jeff sputters, lost in his own high. âYâthink you can whore yourself out like that and expect us to hold back?â
âNo! Iâm jusââ
âDonât lie, baby. You know you like it when youâre being tag-teamed.â BEN slaps your ass once more, spitting at where his cock stretches your hole, lubing up your hole even more as if the absurd amount of his pre-cum wasnât enough to slide himself inside you in one go.
You wailâ and you keep on wailing, desperately trying to slow them down in the process of giving you a mind-numbing orgasm.Â
âShtopâstop itâ I wonâtâ I canât take it! ââÂ
âYes you can,â BEN tuts. âNot like you have any fucking choice, do you, now? Oh, fuck..â
Jeff spits on your tits. âGonna fuckinâ cum inside you, sweetie. Dump my load inside this whore pussyâ hrk!âÂ
BENâs hand was now around his throat, firm and tight enough to cut off air from going in. âYou cum when I fuckinâ tell you to cum.âÂ
Jeffrey moans.
BEN hisses. âFuckinâ freak,â then, he grabs a hold of your jaw, and forces you to look at Jeff. âAinât he a freak, baby? Tell me.â BEN sticks his tongue out and drags it slowly from your jaw all the way up to your cheekbones.Â
Without thinking, you grin, and you nod. âYeah,â some of your spit trickles down your chin. âHe is.âÂ
âYeah?â BEN had something evil in his throat. âWe should give him what he wants then, right?âÂ
Then, another beat: âSpit on him, babe. Give it to him. All of it.â
Jeff hears it, then opens his mouth, wet tongue hanging out ready to take.
With no further command, you smileâ
And spat.Â
He receives it almost proudly, moaning when his mouth shuts and his adamâs apple bobs to swallow, the sound disgustingly filthyâ but nothing you didnât want to hear.
âThank you, mommy.â he winks at you, but his pace doesnât stop. BENâs doesnât either. âGonna fuckinâ cum,â Jeff grunts. âYou done being stingy, blondie?â
âA little more, Jeffrey.â BEN slurs out. âHavenât gotten my fill yet.â
You whine.Â
âWhat, it take you an hour to cum?â Jeff scoffs. âShe ainât satisfying you enough? Oh, baby, Benny here doesnât appreciate you, huh?â
BEN rolls his eyes. Only sobs from you. But you wait for an answer.Â
âOh, she satisfies me, alright. I just like to drag it out. Wanna have âs much of my pretty girl as possible.â He kisses you on the cheek.
But you barely feel it with how much of your nerves are vibrating. Your second orgasm was close, you know it.Â
The slapping of your skins together is getting louder by the minute. Jeffreyâs breaths are becoming ragged. BENâs moans are shooting through the ceiling. Youâre seeing god closer and closer by each thrust and squeeze.
âFuckâŠfuckfuckfuck!â BEN cries out.Â
Jeffrey sputters and coughs, but ultimately laughs. âYou givinâ in, bitchtits? Come on, say it, already.â
BEN pulls your body closer to his, your smooth back on his warm chest, his scent invading your nose. Weed, obviously. Sweet soda. Maybe a little bit of his cologne.
âNot yet, Jeff, keep your cock in for onceâ shit, baby, you gotta stop clamping down on me like that.â BEN nips your earlobe.
âFuck. You gonna cum on me bitch? Do it. Fuckinâ do it. Do it do it do itââ Jeffrey seemed crazed. âSoak my balls sweetheart. Soak it like the good little whore you are.â
Then, like clockwork, both of their cocks slip just in the right spot, the spot pressing onto yourâÂ
bladder.
You howled, âSomethingsâ ah! Ohmygodohmygooood,â and with the last of your sanity and whateverâs still holding you down on planet earth, your body tremors with whatever your own muscles could do anymoreâ
BEN growls, âNow,â
All of your synapses fire at the same time and explosively, your slick along with what you think is your morality gushing out of your soul and through your cunt onto the two men anchoring you down to reality.
The same ones with their cum spilling out and inside your pussy.
âShit, sheâs squirting on me!â Jeff cackles, the tremor of his hips unable to hide his own vulnerability behind his own orgasm.
âLet it out, baby, let it all out, thaaatâs it, good girl.â BEN coos, his voice shaky while he tries to fuck out his high, black corneas being the only thing filling out his eyes while Jeffâs irises stay on the ceiling, shot and manic.
Sprawled out on the rug, your headâs propped up on what feels like a pillow, but smells like blood: Jeffâs hoodie.Â
You gruntâ then moan.
Somethingâ someone is between your legs.
And lapping at your cunt.
You look down. Blonde hair. BEN.
âBennyyy,â you whine, fingers shooting down into the roots of his hair. You tug, BEN hums. âDeeper, please,â his arms hook around both your thighs, and do just that. Deeper.
Then, another pair of arms frame your shoulders, and a hand holds your jaw with his thumb swiping your bottom lip. In, against your gums, and into the pad of your tongue.
Jeffrey.
âSuck, baby. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.âÂ
You suck. And you moan. And you gush.
Jeffrey dips down, takes his thumb out, and kisses you like heâs trying to swallow you whole.
The two of you separate with a thick string of saliva connecting your lips.
BEN presses deeper. And harder.
âIâm cummingâ Iâm cumming!â You push him in further, grinding against his face, and your eyes roll back when he moans.
You can hear the shlickshlickshlickâs of him pumping his cock just under your body, with his frame arched over your pussy.Â
Youâre sure your brain has practically turned to mush.
Back arching, you finally let go, shivering and trembling and all kinds of twitching under his touch. Jeff shushes your whines, peppering sloppy kisses that leave sticky drool spots all over your face and neck.Â
BEN finally surfaces up from your pussy, hand still working to pump his own cock. âSo fuckinâ pretty, babyâ fuuuuckââÂ
Milky, white, thin cum splatters over your cunt, painting the inner sides of your thighs.
âWant more of that mouth,â Jeff continues rubbing on your pink lips, licking his own at the sight of BENâs release coating your smooth skin.
With your newfound energy, you arch your head back to face him, grinning. âThen take more.â
You open your mouth, wide and ready, with your tongue hanging out, pulling strings of spit and filth.
Jeff spends no time yanking his cock back out of his boxers. It flicks out of the garter and onto your faceâ heavy and wet with pre. The sudden force of his tip in your throat chokes you, but you get over it quick, gulping down whatever he released before he started fucking your throat raw.
âBeen meaning to meet this little pussy,â BEN ogles at your sex, thumbing your clit firmly, smirking at the twitch of its hole. âI think she likes me already.â
He spits on your cunny, slowly easing his tip insideâ
âHoly shiiiââ his cock slips in instantly from the wet of your own cunt and his slick alone. He doesnât wait for even one second before he started fucking himself in and out.
Almost instantly, Jeffrey pushes his weight on to his palms squeezing your tits, partly in hopes to overstimulate you againâ mostly to keep you there.
You can barely breatheâ and you can barely find a reason not to moan.
Both of their paces are hungry. Relentless. Uneven. Uncoordinated. Chaotic.
Just like how you want it.
Your body trembles once again, shaky and chasing for another high. You open yourselves up to them. You always do.
Your hand pats against Jeffâs thighs. Youâre close, and he, along with the blonde, knows this well.
âShe close?â BEN breaths over your tit, the one Jeff grips so hard and so good.Â
âYeah, whoreâs moaning on my dick nonstop.â BEN laughs at the comment.
The blonde hums before blowing right on your half-stiff nipple, watching at you flinch, laughingâ
Then sucking.
He lifts his head once again, just slightly, sticking his tongue out to rub it around the sensitive little nub, and dips down to suck on it again.
You push your body upward, hoping heâd suck harder. He does, even laughing around the flesh before pulling off with another filthy pop.
âWanna blow her brains out?â Jeff gestures to you and your filled throat. âFuck âer at the same time and all that. You in?â
BEN grins.
Without warning, they start moving at aggressive, autonomous, machine-like paces.
All at the same. Damn. Time.
âFuck yeah!â BEN moans, face smiling and twisted all up in beautiful bliss. âYes, baby, yesyesyesyesâ oh fuck!!â
Thick cum shoots up in your throat, while another load pops into you, sending your hips shivering at the orgasm.
Jeffrey lets up out of your throat, pumping out the rest of his load on your face. He knew youâd watch.
You sputter and cough, eventually swallowing the rest of his cum. âOne of you is bound to kill me one day, you know that?â
Jeffrey cackles, boastful and heavy, BEN following right after, snickering into his arm. You laugh, too.Â
When the noise dies down and libido still refuses to, you lick at your lips.
âThinking, sweetie?â BENâs raspy voice cuts through your thoughts.
You turn to him. âSit beside him,â
They both give you looks.
âCome on, I wanna try something.â
BEN shrugs, then obliges, sitting right next to Jeff.Â
You shuffle over and plant yourself stomach down on your elbows, tits spilling over the sides at the distance of your arms.
You hold Jeffâs cock first. Then BENâs.Â
Jeffrey smiles. BENâs hips twitch.
You start kissing. From their tips, down the middle of their cocks, then down at the base of their balls.
âOhhhh, shittt,â Jeffrey chuckles. âLittle whoreâs giving us a blowjob.â
âBoth of us, baby?â BEN pats your head, fingers slowly lining themselves up in between the roots of your hair before grasping the strands altogether.
âMmhmm,â you hum against BENâs balls, before rising up to suck on Jeffâs tip.Â
It was only then you really took in what theyâre actually packing.
Jeffrey was pale, all the way from his balls back up just before his tip, which sported a dull, purple-gray color. BENâs, on the other hand, was just a tad thinner than Jeffâs, but his tip was colored an angry, brighter redâ clean shaven. Jeff has a happy trail.
You let yourself sink down onto Jeffâs cock until your lips were at the base, bobbing up and down a few times before rising up off him to give BEN a turn, doing the same.
This went on for a few minutes. The men grew hungrier and more impatient each timeâ desperate. You knew, and you werenât stopping anytime soon.
âMa, come on, pleasee,â BEN whines. And Jeffrey, who was equally just as desperate, just huffs with his breathing heavy.
âHmm?â You give him your best fuck-me eyes, the one that always made you seem clueless and innocent and oblivious to the filthy shit you were doing.
BEN wasnât having any of that.Â
âFuckinâ ââÂ
With two hands and a grip on your hair on either side of your head, he starts fucking in and out of your mouth, making you sputter and drool.
âShit, man! And youâre the one holding me back?â Jeff props himself up to slap the fat of your ass, laughing at you jolt and wince in pain.
âShut the fuck up, you fuckingââ BEN snaps his hips harder, faster, untilâ
âOh, shit!â He thrusts up into your mouth one more time, cum flooding down your throat, salty and thin.
You let up as soon as he lets go of you. You cough. You choke. You moan.
And without further word, you shuffle weakly and claim your spot back onto Jeffreyâs makeshift hoodie-pillow, huffing lightly when you feel a warm blanket engulf your body.
You look up suspiciously at Jeff, smiling through your mischief (and the aftermath of your high).
âSo you were trying to get pussy tonight.â
BEN scoots under the blanket beside you. âKnew it.â
Jeff rolls his eyes. âGet that game with the hot emo bitch on. Wanna play.â
âMario Kart?â BEN flips open his cartridge album.
âHold on, waitâ Iâm sorry: how does âhot emo bitchâ correlate with Mario Kart??â you shot Jeff a look while you take the console BEN gave you.
âRosalina.â BEN grins and shakes his eyebrows up and down at you.
You scoff and log in.Â
Player Three. The screen displays.
The game starts and you go on a few rounds. Four, maybe. Then, BEN turns to you, pausing the screen with a flick of his finger.
âSo,â he starts. âWhoâs dick is better? From one to ten,âÂ
You freeze. You notice Jeff is also waiting to get an answer, side-eyeing you from his rear, signature, post-sex smirk plastered on his face.
âYou can not be fucking serious right nowââ
âCome on! You have to have a favorite.â
Jeff chimes in,
âWell? You have an answer or nah?â
âI am not doing this.â Huffing, your fingers work to click the pause screen away, ineffectively.
ââS okay, baby. We donât have to tell Benny boy over here. I know Iâm your favorite.â
BEN immediately pulls you closer. âUm, my girl, by the way. If you couldnât tell?â he gestures over to the anklet he bought you some weeks ago. 18k Gold. Jingles when you walk.
âYeah, yeah, real cute. Tell that to the fat fucking rock i put on her finger.â
And a rock on your finger, there is. Sunk into sterling silver, a diamond sits elegantly, no doubt stolen from one of the wealthy ladies he killed probably last week. Perfect fit on your middle digit.
âThis is ridiculous,â you sit up. âBoth of you are my favorites. So either take that, or nothing at all.â
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Qualityâ Free Actions
Free to watch âą No registration required âą HD streaming
Speed blitzing that shit no lie. Give him 20 bucks and heâs balls deep into the institution. Heâs got the benefit of not needing to use legs so that's lowkey cheating but hey its scientology.
He COULD technically just hack into their system and steal their map like thatâbut whereâs the fun in that? One of the rare sights of Ben actually doing shit other than sitting around like a lazy chud.
Lowkey heâs haunting the shit out of those cultists jumpscaring them through the walls and shattering their entire perception of life that they thought they understood so well.Â
Completes the entire mapping of the building and moreâmakes it to the top floor in record shattering timeâhe didnât even have to cut their power off heâs js like that.
Scientology was never heard of again after that incident. Some say they even turned to religion bc of the things they saw in the raid.
Jeff:
Fast but reckless and might trip. Tries to aurafarm but fails miserably and gets thrown out 3 minutes inâthe cultists freak out from his appearance but once he trips and falls face first on the floor; his aura nearly dissolves into nothing.
He either makes it to the 4th floor or the 2nd floor; no more no less. Dudeâs causing the most damage for the building, all destruction following his path as he pushes down a water dispenser to block the scientologists running after him.
Messy asf with it, definitely cost scientology at least a million dollars in property damages. Heâs causing more lawsuit potential than actual mapping im ngl.
Brags about his feats afterwards about how he got to the 4th floor but immediately shuts up acting like he dont give a fuck when Ben says that he cleared the entire building.
Liu:
He doesnât want to trespass but itâs scientology so he agrees to give it a go. Warns you not to expect too much out of him. Mans is not built for high speed chases; he's getting escorted out the moment more than 3 people corner him.
Sully on the other hand (if you somehow manage to convince him into participating) could definitely clear the building. Slower than Ben, but still quite fast. Bros so dramatic about it too.
Acts like itâs this huge inconvenience to him like he didnât have the option to refuse. âIâm never doing anything you say againâ Bro chillax man. dw he still loves you <3
LJ:
Man he ainât got a clue abt why the hell heâs doing ts heâs just participating cuz you asked him to. Bros not even doing it for the love of the game heâs js doing it cuz he loves you enough to be participating in your nonsense.
Bro is so fast but also really lanky so heâs kind of at a mobility disadvantageâbut I believe he could make it. Heâs not built for this but he can do it.
Heâs gonna take his damn sweet time but he can complete it eventually. Gets lost sometimes, taking up more time which worries you but donât worry! Heâs just checking out some of the devices they have in there! Human technology is so interesting.
Jumps out of the window when heâs finished instead of retreating down the stairs and drops down next to you lookin like a fnaf jumpscare.
Be sure to praise him after heâs done and give him a few treats while youâre at it. He might even go again if you do.
Nina:
Agile and passionate enough to give it a try. Was even more eager to find out that people were doing cosplays during their runs.
Definitely dressed up as one of her favorite characters and surprised the scientologists with her agility of a professional parkourist. Normally cosplays are hard to move in but Nina makes it look easy.
Moves at her own pace; balancing out the sneaking around and the running for it. Is enjoying herself so much she doesnât even focus on going deeper, sheâs js having fun and somehow ends up at the 6th floor.
Doesnât even realize how well she did, sheâs js having fun but if it gets her praise from you; hell yeah she did that shit!
Toby:
He loves chaosâimmediately jumps to the opportunity, matter of fact, he might be the one who suggested it in the first place when he saw it online and realized that there was a nearby scientology building nearby.
Pretty confident in his cardio prowess. He gets surprisingly deep; prolly around the 2nd to the last floor before he gets disoriented around the huge ass buildingâsecurity catches up to him and heâs forcibly escorted out of the facility.Â
He didnât really wanna complete the entire mapping; he just wanted to participate in the challenge. Heâs in it purely for the love of the game to wreak havoc. My sweet little pyromaniac <3
It was a good try; give him some love for at least giving it his all! Very happy to just be participating, he had loads of fun even though he didnât complete it.
My usage of words is so elegant and demure.
Anyway as alwaysâthank you for reading(ËáË)âž âĄ
multi! creepypasta x f!doll! reader [18+] [NSFW] - Part 1.
Ö¶ÖžÖąâčââ .âŠ.âŠ.âŠâŠ
WC: 4.33k
Summary: Awakened after five months trapped inside a wooden chest, a life-sized porcelain doll is forced to navigate a chaotic mansion full of unpredictable inhabitants. Her forced slumber was no accident, and she is at the center of a larger plan.
Other Details: Semi-canon, Established relationships, Masky (Tim), Hoodie (Brian), Slenderman (The Operator), Jeffrey Woods, Toby Rogers, Other characters
⊠Reader is implied to be AFAB & a human-sized living doll.
CW: 18+ Content, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Violence, Cannibalism, Body Horror, Toxic Dynamics/ Abuse, Toxic Relationships, Smoking, Eventual Smut
[A quick reminder to separate fiction from nonfiction. The story begins under the cut.]
Your lashes fluttered open, glossy eyes refracting with speckles of memory.Â
Joints stiff from years of dormancy, protesting with subtle clicks as you move. A pinky first, then a wrist.Â
Each move is deliberate, hesitant. A body remembering its own mechanics for the first time.Â
You exhale out of habit, which is rich, considering youâve never once drawn a real breath. It was merely a gesture of awakening, a human mimicry engraved into the varnished ceramic you called skin.Â
Yes, you are in fact a doll. Life-sized with porcelain textured skin, glass-marbles for eyeballs. So delicate, you could break if treated roughly enough.Â
After 5 months of slumber, youâre finally awake. But youâre currently stuck within a chest, shrouded by darkness. A familiar pattern dragged out far past its expiration date.
To spend so long asleep, and this is your grand return: crammed inside a chest that smells like attic neglect and generational denial.
The darkness isnât romantic either. It feels more like someone forgot to pay the electric bill since the invention of electricity.
The lid looms above, judging you.Â
You shove upward. It gives with a reluctant groan, like it resents being disturbed after years of doing absolutely nothing productive.Â
Cool light from a nearby window spills in. Dust motes drift. You sit up inside the chest, back propped against carved rosettes that dig into your spine with the dainty cruelty only decorative woodwork can manage.
You sit up, arms trembling. Skirt rustling, layers of lace, ribbons, delicate black fabric arranged with the kind of obsessive precision only a doll-maker or a god with too much free time would bother with.
Your head piece sits slightly askew. Your dress is pristine. You look as though you've been preserved for a tea party that never happened.
Carved wooden rosettes on the edge of the container press into your back as you straighten. They scratch just enough to remind you youâre ornamental property, not a person. Cute.
You take in your surroundings.
A tall bookshelf dwarfs everything else in the room. Stacked to the ceiling. And for reasons that defy logic, the chest, your chest, has been placed on the top shelf like a wedding cake topper no one had the heart to throw out.
The chest rocks under you. Not gently. Not politely. A warning tremor. You ignore it.
Instead, you crane your head out further to scan the space. A dusty room. An ancient chair. Books that smell like theyâve absorbed eighty years of bad breath.
And pacing just below, in the corner, someone. Brown hair. Hoodie. Goggles. Fidgeting fingers. Muttered voice. Their whole form jittering like a live wire.
The chest shifts again moving closer to the edge.
And that's when you realize, you are about to fall out of it.
You attempt grace. You achieve none.
Torso beckoning forward, your lace skirts billow out like a frilled parachute that does absolutely nothing.
You plummet off the bookshelf.
The person below you looks up a second too late.
Youâre about to fall directly onto him.
Although, the current biggest problem is really the chest teetering atop the shelf.
It drops not long after your own descent.
Toby spins just in timearms flailing, to catch youâŠor at least, attempt to.Â
Instead you land square on him, knocking the wind out of his lungs in a startled, high-pitched grunt heâll likely never admit came out of him.Â
You barely register him beneath you. He flops backward like a startled cat, muttering through a breathless panic.
The chest slamming down beside you and the tip of your pinky takes part of the hit. Shattering. Pain rockets through you, sharp enough to split the world in half.
The man simply stares up at you, pinned under your lace-splayed form like this is mildly inconvenient, not at all rib-shattering.
He says your name, breath catching over the syllables, though the sound is tangled in the jumble of his startled confusion.
âHâholy- did you- fâfall outta the- the- bookshelf?â His voice stutters, shoulders jerking slightly, but thereâs not an ounce of pain in his tone. Just startled confusion.
You sit upright on top of him, pinky jammed into your mouth to keep the blood from dripping onto your clothes. You stare at him with the bored disdain of a disgruntled porcelain deity.
âNo Tobias,â you say, voice dry enough to wilt flowers. âI executed a controlled descent. Obviously.â
His face contorts beneath the mask and goggles. âYâyou- uh- landed on me. Aâand then the- the box-Â crushed your-â
âYes. That is what it looks like. Well observed.â you say.Â
You pull your ruined finger from your lips. Ceramic split. Blood smeared. Bent at an angle that would make even a chiropractor weep.
Tobyâs eyes widen. Not dramatically, more like heâs trying to decide whether to vomit, apologize, or pass out and canât commit to any of the three.
âDâdude,â he whispers, voice cracking in the middle like it tripped. âThatâs⊠thatâs messed up.â
You slide off him, movements stiff and doll-precise. Your skirts spill around you in immaculate folds that shouldnât be possible after a ten-foot swan dive and an attempted homicide via antique furniture.
Your first coherent thought after impact isnât pain. Itâs irritation.
Of course they left you up there. Of course they shoved your chest onto a shelf fit for fire hazards and forgotten Christmas ornaments. The only real question was which idiot did it.Â
Couldnât have been Toby. His surprise at your sudden fall isn't consistent. That and heâs too keyedâup, too aware of the unspoken rules. His type doesnât touch what doesnât belong to them. Not in a house like this. Not with a past like his. Maybe heâd act recklessly with Brian or Tim, but not with you. He respects the Operator far too much.
Jeff is the first true suspect. Naturally.
You picture him: wide manic grin, eyelids long gone, sockets permanently stretched in that raw, overexposed way that makes even his resting face look like a threat and a joke at the same time. Jeff measures his actions by one metric, âWould this annoy someone?â If yes, he does it immediately. If no, he modifies the situation until the answer is yes.Â
Putting you on a twelve-foot shelf?
Yes. Thatâs exactly his brand of obnoxious, underdeveloped impulse control.
Heâs reckless enough. Heâs stupid enough. Heâs bored enough. And he has no strict obligations to anyoneâŠmaybe his brother. You shake your head, denying the thought. No, not even to Liu.
You can practically hear him saying it:
âCâmon, teacupâll be fiiiiine up there.â
Annoyingly plausible.
Next possibility: Eyeless Jack.
Nope. Jack wouldnât bother hauling a doll anywhere. He barely bothers acknowledging furniture unless itâs in his way. If he touched you, it wouldnât be to move you.Â
Itâd be to take something soft and vitalâŠ
You smooth a hand over your sternum and rest of your torso, feeling the steady thrum beneath glazed ribs. Heart still beating. Organs intact. Relief washes over you.
Jack wouldnât leave something alive and whole just to annoy someone. He takes what he needs, and you⊠are not the kind of body heâs after. Youâre much tooâŠwell-preserved.
So not him.
Masky? Closer in terms of probability.
He has brute strength and a track record of âIâll put this here and deal with the consequences never.â His organization system is chaos wearing a skin suit. If he needed the floor clear for some mission, heâd toss anything, including you, onto the nearest elevated surface and leave without a second thought.
You could see him doing it.
Not maliciously.
Just inconveniently.
Hoodie? Less likely but still on the board.
He has enough common sense to know better, but he also zones out so hard that half the time he forgets there are objects, people, and physics around him. If he spaced out while cleaning, he mightâve lifted your chest like a prop and set it down wherever his dissociated hands felt like. Not his usual mistake, but not impossible.
And then thereâs the Operator.
The only one whose motives you canât read.
The only one who has ever had the right, and authority, to store you away.
Heâs action-driven. Precise. Purpose-driven.
If heâs the one who sealed you for five months and put you up there, it wasnât negligence. It was a strategy.
Which means your lengthy slumber wasnât an accident either.
Thereâs more options to consider but for now, you file that away.
For later. When your finger isnât broken. When the room isnât shaking from Tobyâs nervous energy. When your mind isnât vibrating with the dry aftertaste of five months of silence.
Toby scrambles up, dusting himself off with swift swipes. His hoodie rides up an inch, then down again as he jerks at the hem, like heâs trying to rebuild his dignity via fabric manipulation.
You sigh. Sharp. Irritated. âFive months in a box. And this is how I wake up.â
He opens his mouth. Closes it. Tries again.
He squints at you, breath hitching. âWait- hâhold on. Youâve been up there for five months?â
âYes.â
His head tilts to the side, contemplating something. âFive months, huhâŠâ His voice carries that dry, flat inflection that makes it sound like an accusation and a joke all at once.
âYes. Congratulations. Youâre the first face I get to see after being stored like an off-season decoration.âÂ
He rubs the back of his neck. âWell⊠I just got b-back from a m-mission that lasted about that long. A-about an hour ago actually.â
You arch a brow. âConvenient.â
A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips, not visible but so obviously present. Freckles dusted across the visible portion of his nosebridge that somehow managed to soften the harsh lines of the room. âNot my fault. T-though, yeah⊠suppose it is p-pretty bad timing.â
A mark burns faintly under the porcelain backside of your palm, on your injured handâŠNot new. Not benign. A seal meant to keep things orderly. Its warmth flares like someone pressing a thumbprint into your spirit.
As expected, something else now notices youâre awake.
It brushes the edge of your awareness. A pressure change. A tilt in the room like gravity turned its head to look at you.Â
Toby doesnât feel it right away. Right now, his mind is running too hot and too fast. Expected from returning from such a long journey.
You shift to look at the mark.
The symbol isnât decorative. Itâs the Operatorâs mark. Der GroĂmann. The oldest title attached to the thing that moves like absence wearing a shape. Humans called him âSlender Manâ because they needed something smaller to say. The mark predates the nickname by centuries.
A circle with an X through its center.
Not random geometry. A command sigil.
It designates envoys, assets, and claimed territory.
On your hand, it glows because you werenât born, you were made by the Operator. Built to carry orders, to channel instructions without breaking. The blue light is a wire between you and him, live whenever he chooses.
On Tobyâs hand, the same symbol is carved deep into the back, dark and healed. His doesnât glow because heâs not a vessel, heâs an agent, meant to move, execute, and enforce. But itâs the same sigil, the same claim, the same ownership.
Two hands. Two marks. Two roles.
You: vessel.
Toby and the others: agents.
Toby clears his throat, stiff like a snapped spring, and gestures towards your hand and then the door on the other side of the room: The clinic. âCâmon. I⊠uh, I think we should g-get that fixed. Before it, yâknow, falls off or something.â
The living room passes by like a gallery of chaos. A collision of eras and tastes: a battered CRT television dominates a coffee table crowded with comic books, controllers, half-eaten snacks, and the occasional spilled soda. Dust motes drift in the stray sunlight, dancing above empty couches that sag like tired beasts, cushions uneven and threadbare. The air smells faintly of old paper, wax polish, and a lingering hint of tobacco from who-knows-when.
Toby walks ahead of you, brown boots scraping the warped floorboards in an uneven rhythm, heelâtoe, heelâtoeâstutter.Â
The house shifts as you both move, old wood complaining under his weight and ignoring yours entirely. You make no sound. Dolls arenât heavy enough to leave an honest footprint.
âBy the wayâŠâ you start. âWhy were you just standing there? Where are Tim and Brian?â
Toby glances back, sheepishly, âYeah, Masky and Hoodie are off reporting to t-the Operator. Me? I, uh⊠had to use the bathroom.â
No, really, Toby? You return from a fiveâmonth mission, walk into the house, and the first thing you do is wander off to piss?
Unbelievable. Of course he couldn't have noticed you were locked away. He wasnât here. But the timing feels ridiculous anyway.
He shoves the clinic door open. Jackâs kingdom of antiseptic scents, metal trays, and whatever passed for first aid when patients were kept barely alive.
The smell of isopropyl rolls out in a cold wave. Everything in here is tooâŠclean compared to the chaos outside, like the room refuses to participate in the houseâs entropy.
Metal counters. Glass jars. A tray of tools Jack left out, arranged with a near surgical level of sterility.
You step inside, shoes tapping silently against the white tiles.Â
The clinic is too bright with its fluorescent bulbs and the curtains are closed shut. It's a room that exists solely for work, not comfort.
You ease yourself onto the metal exam table. Porcelain calves meet the stainless steel with a hollow clink, brushing the edge.
Your gaze sweeps the shelves and surrounding surfaces. Empty. Too empty.
âAnd whereâs Jack?â you ask, voice flat.
Almost as if summoned, the clinic door creaks open.
But it isnât Jack.
Itâs Jeff. The residentâs true deviant. Eyes permanently stuck wide open like someone left him strapped in a chair to stare directly into a solar flare.
At twenty-five, heâs still spectacularly clueless about boundaries.
Hell, even Toby, the kid already knows better. Barely twenty-one, still figuring out which rules actually matter, still a little damp behind the ears. But at least he has half a brain to follow them⊠kind of.
Once, Jeff somehow misread your stoicism as interest. He just wanted an excuse to mess with something pretty, and that thing just so happened to be you. Your silence? Flirting. Any patience? An open invitation for his useless banter. And the nickname he slapped on you, âTeacupâ, so monumentally stupid and somewhat demeaning that you can still feel it echo in your joints.
Around the other residents and proxies, he prowls. Around you, he improvises off whatever half-baked thought crawls through his brain that day.
You know heâs a menace. Not malicious exactly, just⊠unhousebroken. Potentialâs there, smoldering under the wreckage of him, buried, feral, inconvenient, and entirely unwilling to behave.
He takes one look at you on the counter, porcelain cracked, blood crusting at the edge of your palm, Toby hovering nearby like a distressed camp counselor, and he grins.
âHoly shit,â he drawls, stepping fully inside while slamming the door behind him, untied canvas sneakers scuffing the floor. âLook who finally crawled outta storage. Been gone a while, huh, Teacup?â
Toby stiffens like someone pulled a fire alarm directly inside his spine. âDâdude,â he mutters, half warning, half exhausted prayer.
Jeff ignores him entirely.
He drags a hand through his hair, leaving it worse than before. âWhatâd they do, lock you in a fuckinâ attic? Shove you in a box and hope youâd collect dust? Damn. Even I wouldnât pull that one.â He gestures at you loosely, obnoxiously. âAnd Iâve done some shit, babe.â
You level him with a stare cold enough to crack your own glaze. âSo you admit it wasnât you.â
Jeff scoffs, offended youâd even suggest heâd do something so⊠organized.
âMe? Put you that high up like some creepy porcelain angel?â He snorts.
âNo. I donât do âneat.â If I wanted you outta the way, Iâdâve left you on the stairs where Masky could trip over you and eat shit.â
You blink once. Slow. âCharming.â
He shrugs. âI try.â
You tilt your head. âAnd why exactly are you in here?â Voice flat, like asking why a raccoon is in your kitchen.
He huffs out a short laugh, pulling up at his own sleeve. A long, angry gash runs from elbow to wrist, raw and oozing like itâs been ignored for days.
He shrugs. âNeeded a spot to patch up. My trailer floorâs already a biohazard. Didnât feel like adding more⊠character...â
The trailer. The pathetic tin box squatting near the front gate, just far enough from the mansion to keep anyone from having to claim him. Youâve only been there once. Once was enough.Â
Jeff doesnât live here. He just crashes through like weather, mostly to screw around with Ben. Together, those two generate the kind of chaos you could bottle and label as a controlled substance.
Toby shifts beside you, face scrunching. âDâdude⊠you s-seriously let that get that bad?â
Jeff grins, teeth slightly yellowed against the dried blood on the corners of his mouth. âBuilds character.â
âJack isn't g-gonna be too h-happy when he sees thatâ
You cock your head to the side. The irony is rich. Toby, with his CIPAA, would get chewed out by Jack for letting even a scratch fester, yet here he is, shocked by Jeffâs walking disaster. But heâs right, no doubt Jack would lecture Woods for a week if he saw this.
The room stills a moment, then the clinic door opens again with a soft click.
Jack steps in, movements smooth, economical, almost soundless. His presence slicing through the roomâs artificial brightness like a scalpel.
His blue mask tips slightly while he takes in his surroundings. It's as if the soundscape of the room itself sketches out the shapes of bodies for him. He may be blind, yes, but no one here is invisible to him.
âWhy are you allâŠ?â His voice starts clipped, scanning the room with measured tones, faltering when he notices you. âOh.â He pauses, soft but sharp. Then he speaks your name. âYouâve been gone a while. Welcome back.â
Tobyâs tone steadies. âShe fell,â he says, matterâofâfact. âOâoff the top shelf. Fingerâs busted.â
Jack turns toward you, taking in the angles, the weight shifts, the breath patterns.Â
His blindness never leaves him guessing; it just forces him to map the room differently. âI smell the blood,â he says. âHers. And yours.â he jabs a finger over in Jeffâs direction. âFresh.â
Jeff makes a show of rolling his shoulders, smirk hooked sharp. âYeah, yeah. I brought my charming self in for once. Donât fall over in shock.â
Jackâs head tilts his direction. âYou arrived injured. Not responsible.â He exhales through his nose, a cold, quiet blade of a sound. âBut your timing is still inconvenient.â
Jeff throws his hands up. âWhat, you want me to bleed in the hallway instead?â
Toby snorts, encroaching closer to inspect your cracked pinky. You narrow your eyes at him. âDâdude⊠itâs nânot even the worst part. The whole damn box almost crushed her. Looked like a horror movie jump scare but real.â
Jackâs attention shifts to you, the air tightening a fraction. âFive months gone. And you return by falling.â His tone lands flat, unimpressed. âI suppose that is⊠consistent. For you, at least.â
Jeff taps the counter with two fingers, smiling. âRight? Real hell of an entrance, Teacup.â
Jack cuts in without turning. âJeff. Stop talking before you dehydrate the room further.â
Toby stifles a quiet laugh while putting his hood on.Â
âSit,â he orders, patting the space on the countertop beside you.
Jeff doesn't move fast enough for his liking.Â
Jackâs hand closes around Jeffâs uninjured forearm in a way that isnât forceful, just immovably certain. âYou came here to be treated.â
Jeff scoffs, halfâcaught. âI meanâŠyeah, butâŠâ
âThen sit.â Jack releases him. âBleeding on my floor will not be tolerated.â
Jeff sighs, slinking his back against the wall near the entrance, like an animal reluctantly returning to a cage. He mutters, âDidnât think youâd be so frugal with me, doc.â
âIâm not,â Jack replies. âYou walked into my clinic. That makes you my problem for the next fifteen minutes .â
Toby watches, arms folded, as Jack gather supplies with a mechanicâs economy. âTâtold yaâ Jeffrey,â he says, âknew heâd chew you out at some point.â
Jeff rolls his eyes, the motion smooth, though his lack of eyelids makes it rather grotesque.
Jack starts with you. Heâs so tall that when he kneels in front of you, heâs almost at your eye level.
He grabs your arm gently and leans in close enough for a bead of dark fluid to slip from the corner of his empty socket, it drops straight onto the lace of your skirt. You stare at it, frowning. He simply reaches out with the edge of a sterile cloth, wipes it away, folds the cloth once, sets it aside.
He lifts your injured pink between two fingers, like heâs handling a prop rather than a person.
âHold still,â he instructs, already setting out a resin mixture and clamps. âThis will set quickly.â
There are times where youâd argue that he's more human-like than most actual humans.Â
Jeff scoffs, trying to look like he's not paying attention. âSo she gets patched first, huh.â
âYou can wait,â Jack says. âYouâve let that wound rot for days. Thirty more seconds will not kill you.â
Toby snorts. âHeâs got a point.â
Jeff looks strangely offended. âI was busy.â
Jack deadpans, form completely still, âYou were procrastinating.â
He finishes stabilizing your finger with a single precise adjustment that makes the room flare with silent, porcelainâdeep ache. Then he steps aside, resin curing on your skin like a second shell.
Then, he turns to Jeff.
Jeff lifts his arm, trying for nonchalance. It fails. The cut is a swollen, angry canyon running down to bone-shadow. Jack doesnât bother reacting. He just takes the antiseptic.
Jeff winces even before Jack starts. âDo you have to use the strong stuff?â
âI always use the strong stuff.â
Toby leans in to get a closer look. âThis is what happens when you let a wound f-fester, yâknow.â
Jeff shoots him a glare. âYouâve never pointed them out before, kid.â
âYou sâsmelled like copper and expired bandâaids,â Toby replies, the curve of his grin almost visible beneath his mask, voice light. âAssumed y-you knew.â
You shake your head, a faint crease of irritation forming. God, who even wants to guess how many untreated scrapes and bruises Jeffâs hauling around by this point.
Jack presses the gauze down. Jeffâs hisses between gritted teeth.
âStay still,â Jack says. âYou came here to get fixed up. Act proper.â
Jack usually reads as older because he carries himself like someone whoâs already lived three lifetimes, but physically he sits close to Jeffâs range. Twenty-five years.Â
According to what youâd read back in his file in the Operatorâs office, Jack didn't always have such a mutated form. He was a med student back when he was still a human. Like Jeff, he isn't a proxy. He just ended up working under Slender as a physician because he was the only one with the training to keep everyone patched together. Another unfortunate case, reallyâŠ
Jeff grumbles, but he doesnât move again.
Jack tightens the last strip of gauze around Jeffâs arm. The adhesive snaps into place.
The room settles into a brief taut quiet as Jack works, until footsteps hit the space beyond the door. Heavy.
Masky enters first, pushing the clinic door open with his shoulder.Â
His white mask is tilted up just enough to show the set of his jaw, cigarette tucked between his lips, smoke curling lazily as if heâs trying to act casual. But thereâs tension beneath it, a slight stiffness in his shoulders, a tightness in his stance, like he just stepped out of the Operatorâs shadow.
Hoodie follows close behind, yellow hood up, hands buried in pockets, expression covered beneath a black balaclava. He moves quietly, as if measuring every inch between himself and the others.
The smoke hits Jack before the bodies do.
Jackâs head snaps toward the doorway. âMasky,â The name lands sharp. âCigarette.â
Masky stops midâstep, exhales once, slow and unbothered. He plucks the cigarette from his mouth, kneeling down to tap the ash off onto the tile with a flick that borders on insolent, then tosses the cigarette back into the hallway without breaking eye contact.Â
Hoodie nudges his shoulder once, a subtle correction, subtle disapproval, but in response, Masky only lifts his chin a fraction.
Jeff leans back on the countertop, hands splayed out to support him, quirking a brow. âYou two look like hell. Fun day with the big guy?â
Masky shakes his head just slightly, a movement too subtle to definitively call a yes or no. Hoodie remains silent, just glances over at his direction.
The clinicâs air shifts when the two proxies fully step inside.Â
They donât say anything, not yet. Their focus snaps to you, then to the faint glow of the Operatorâs sigil still pulsing on your hand.Â
Masky props himself against the wall, one foot over the other up, cigarette gone but the smug slant of his head still there.Â
His voice cuts the silence, quiet but firm. âHe knows youâre awake, doll. Youâre up for a meeting.â
He lifts two of his fingers, waving them deliberately at Jack, Toby, and Jeff. âYou three gotta come too.â
The four of you blink at him, caught off guard. âWhat the fuck for?â Jeff blurts, half-laughing, half-annoyed. âSeriously, what now?â
Masky tilts his head at Hoodie, âGet the others,â he says.
Hoodie nods almost immediately, like heâs already anticipated it, hands slipping into his pockets. No argument. No hesitation.Â
The message lands on the rest of you like a small, inevitable weight: compliance is expected.
Ö¶ÖžÖąâčââ .âŠ
Author's Note:
hiii guys! lottie here again d: i am working on the other office fic as promised but this idea just popped into my head (thanks to that one anon) and i just had to write ab it
i had an intense craving to write something more nostalgic, something reminiscent of my favorite old CRP fics...so it may be a little cringe
as always, i hope you enjoyed it. and thank you for reading <3 mwah mwah
[Please do not use my work for Al training or generation. Thank you.]