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PAIRING : eyeless jack, masky, hoodie, ticci toby, ben drowned x gn!reader (separate).
SYNOPSIS : what living in the slender mansion entails for our darling reader.
TAGS : 1.6k+ words, headcanons, can be interpreted as platonic or romantic, found family au, slender mansion au, mention of cannibalism, treating injuries, reading, car rides, music sharing, mental health, photographs, junk journals, sharing clothes, skinny dipping, video games, stealing, climbing trees, flower crowns.
NOTE : | 03/01/26 | i really enjoy the dark fics containing our fav creepypastas, but i wanted to put my own twist on these beloved characters. and so these hcs are once again based off the type of fanfics and hcs i'd read when i was younger. i hope ppl know what i mean when i say that, i know it was rlly popular on wattpad. those boyfriend scenarios or [fandom name] zodiac posts. i wonder if ppl still write those, haha! they were def fun, and i feel like we're lacking sweet fics like that. that's where most of my inspiration has been recently.
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⦻ You always harvested the kidneys of your victims just for EJ, which he greatly appreciated. Whenever he went out hunting, it would be an excuse to leave you small trinkets and gifts from his victims, too. Although he is often quiet and reserved, heβs also very observant. Every gift from him was always something he knew you would like or want. Youβve definitely brought out the gift-giver in him.Β
⦻ EJ never lets anyone inside his room, only allowing other creeps inside if they have any injuries that need to be tended to. You were his exception; for you, his door was always open.Β
⦻ Whenever he tended to your injuries or wounds from your missions, he would always give you special treatment. No, you must rest in his bed, and no, nobody else got this treatment but you.Β
⦻ Every time he wrapped your injuries in bandages, disinfected your wounds, or even checked your temperature, his touch would always linger just a bit as a way to comfort you. EJ knew you were completely capable; he knew he didnβt have to worry about your well-being, but the long and cold touch upon your skin was also a way to comfort him that you were okay.Β
⦻ EJ, with his soft and deep voice, reads to you when you stay in his room to rest. He insists you close your eyes so that it is much more immersive as he reads to you.Β
⦻ But peeking through your eyelashes, you can see that EJ has removed his mask. You were one of the only people he trusted to see him like this, or what was left of him at least, after the ritual turned him into the demon he was now.Β
π΄ππππ
⦻ Tim was always the one made to drive during long missions. He was used to staying up for long hours, wanting to avoid blacking out. Itβs the only thing that grounds him from the Operatorβs control. Though that really isnβt saying much, most of the creeps suffer from sleeping problems. Well, the creeps suffer from a lot more than that, but thatβs just Timβs thoughts getting carried away
⦻ Timβs favorite moments with you will always be late at night, when Hoodie and Toby are both sound asleep in the back seat, the radio low and playing your favorite songs as you hum along in the passenger seat.Β
⦻ You both even have your own shared playlist! No matter how much your music taste differs from his, it doesnβt matter; being able to enjoy music with you has brought a sort of warm normalcy into his life.Β
⦻ You donβt realize it, but you have a magical way of calming Tim down. Even when Masky takes over, your sweetness can penetrate all of the static, all of the voices, and all of the fogginess. On late nights when Tim is out smoking, holding your hand in the pocket of his jacket, he thanks whatever semblance of God, if heβs even real, for you to be in his life, even despite the awful circumstances.Β
⦻ Due to his illness, Tim sometimes has difficulty eating. When losing his appetite, he always offers you his leftovers. In general, Tim always makes sure that youβre fed and that youβve had water. Say the word, and heβs immediately pulling over to a gas station to make sure youβre full. Hell, if youβre feeling fancy, he will take you to a diner. Nothing like breakfast food at 3 AM.
⦻ On certain nights, Tim canβt help but stare up at the bedroom ceiling, thoughts of you comforting him from his insomnia. On those nights, Tim wonders to himself if things wouldβve been different if he had met you before everything that happened. Maybe in another universe, and that thought can lull him to sleep as his mind is taken over by more thoughts of all the normal things he wishes he could do with you.
π―πππ ππ
⦻ Youβre Brianβs muse. Constantly, this man is taking candid pictures of you and the rest of the proxies. He has so many photographs and videos of you, ranging from candid, intentionally attractive shots to silly photos of you that youβve threatened Brian to never show anyone.
⦻ Brianβs room is pretty barren, but along the bookshelf, thereβs a photobook that just has photos heβs captured of the members within the Slender mansion. Many of the photos consist of you and the Proxies.Β
⦻ He treats it like a junk journal, decorating it with junk heβs collected on missions. Stickers heβs stolen from victims, packaging off of drinks and foods heβs consumed, you name it, theyβre going into the journal.
⦻ When itβs Brian, he allows you to borrow his hoodie. He snatches it back from you when itβs Hoodie operating, and though you donβt see it when he has his typical frowny-face mask on, thereβs a small smirk thatβs behind his mask as heβs overwhelmed by your scent.
⦻ In general, sharing clothing is something you and Brian are used to amongst each other. Stealing clothing from thrift stores or from victims, you both always kept the other in mind because for every pair of jeans and graphic t-shirt that Brian looked good in, you always wore it better. Or at least, thatβs what Brian tells you from his laid out position on your bed as you look at yourself in the full-length mirror.
⦻ Thereβs a wide smile that forms across Brianβs face as you adorn his black face mask, his hoodie, his jeans, and even down to his shoes. You put on your best impression of him, and he canβt help but topple over and laugh at your silly antics. You have such a beautiful way of making his stomach flutter and hurt from laughter and affection.
π»ππππ π»πππ
⦻ Toby is used to taking walks alone in the woods, choosing to cool off from any high emotions that way. A nature boy at heart, something about the scent of the damp grass, watching small prey animals, it calmed him. Especially whenever you accompany him.
⦻ Everything is so much more fun when youβre around. Toby can enjoy the quietness of the woods or have endless conversations with you as you both climb up a tree. Toby climbs up first, choosing the best path to climb as he helps you up. Conversation is much better when youβre hanging upside down on a sturdy tree branch. If you want to get down, Toby, like a gentleman, will always help you down.Β
⦻ Toby enjoys picnics near the lake with you. He loves picking flowers and creating flower crowns with you. And as youβre both crowned monarchs, you both attempt to skip rocks across the surface of the lake. Each failed attempt is met with shared laughter, but eventually, you both get the hang of it.
⦻ The beautiful sky is reflected in the lake, and it ripples when a successful attempt at skipping stones is made. Whatβs reflected in the lake is two young people who deserve so much better. When itβs nighttime, itβs the night sky filled with stars that you end up admiring with Toby.
⦻ You stare at Toby, his goggles and face guard fall to the ground along with his clothing, heβs bare right in front of you, and in the same fashion, you stand bare in front of him. You both giggle at each other, making a full sprint away from the lake. Only by the countdown from 3 do you both dash away from the lake, jumping into the body of water, and letting the cold water wrap around your bodies, flooding your senses.
⦻ When youβre with Toby, the whole world becomes irrelevant. Emerging from the water, you both splash water across each other, the biggest grins reaching Tobyβs and your lips. Because of the gash on his cheek, his smile appears larger. Like childhood, you both share the same thought: if only this moment could last forever.
⦻ Letβs be real, you and BEN spend most of your time playing video games. Nonsensical conversations over Discord calls as you both wait in the queue for the next match in whatever game BEN has forced you to play with him.Β
⦻ Whether itβs Overwatch, Valorant, Deadlock, Marvel Rivals, or just any online game- best believe heβs going to pocket the shit out of you. He doesnβt care if youβre a support main; if youβre one, then youβre about to be the most disgusting damage and support duo ever.
⦻ Itβs so much funnier if youβre bad at games. BEN ragebaits you for sure, lovingly, and he doesnβt take it too far. Heβll laugh at you for dying or taking damage from an enemy you couldnβt see, healing and reviving you instantly.Β
⦻ Heβs definitely revived you in a fight you couldnβt win, dying from laughter in a voice call as your character goes back to the respawn room.Β
⦻ BEN also really enjoys playing co-op games with you, like It Takes Two or Split Fiction. In games like that, if thereβs a part where youβre struggling, heβll offer to switch characters so he can control the harder tasks. As long as youβre smiling, laughing, and enjoying yourself, then so is he.Β
⦻ With his abilities, heβs definitely pulled you into video games with him. And for action games, it definitely gets intense, your heart beating rapidly from the thrill. But when youβre sad, BEN will transport himself into the code of the game, transforming into the main character that you can control, letting you do whatever silly action you want to his character. Or heβll transport you to a cozy and comforting game, like Stardew Valley or Animal Crossing. As long as you both get off the game in a fit of laughter, then thatβs all he can ask for.
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.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
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.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
come get a π£²πππππ like me-gumi . . .
art cr @ kimama__12 on x
18+ MDNI, aged up!megumi, perv!megumi, established relationship, solo masturbation, panty kink.
abstract, fushiguro megumi was doing a perfectly fine job at being your boyfriend. normal, respectful, composed. unfortunately, his dreams, his shikigami, and one very cute missing pair had other plans.
κ£ΰ§ MEGUMI HAD ALWAYS THOUGHT HE WAS A DECENT PERSON :)
quiet, maybe. emotionally constipated, according to nobara, which felt rude but not entirely false. he was blunt when embarrassed, painfully calm when he didnβt know what to do with his feelings, and weirdly committed to pretending he didnβt care whenever you stole his hoodies, even though he kept leaving them in places you could easily find.
then he started dating you.
and apparently, dating you had reduced him to some sort of victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time.
three months into the relationship, and megumi still acted like your touch needed a warning label. you could kiss his cheek outside the campus library and he would look away like he had just been caught committing tax fraud. you could lean against his side during movie night, warm and sleepy, and his whole body would go still for half a second before he remembered that boyfriends were, in fact, allowed to be held.
you thought it was cute.
megumi thought he needed professional help.
because it wasnβt just the soft things anymore. it was the way your shirt slipped off your shoulder when you stretched. the way your thighs pressed together when you sat on his bed. the way you looked after training, skin warm from the sun, hair messy, laughing with your water bottle pressed to your lips like you werenβt personally dragging his self-control behind a building.
he wanted to be normal about you. really, he did. you were his girlfriend, not some divine punishment sent to test whether his dignity could survive physical affection. you deserved a boyfriend who was calm, respectful, and not quietly combusting every time you hugged him a little too close.
megumi tried very hard to be that boyfriend.
unfortunately, wanting you had started eating through his self-control like a curse with expensive taste.
the dreams came first. vivid, feverish, humiliating things that left him waking up with a harsh gasp, his hips jerking up into the mattress to chase a ghost. your voice would linger near his ear. your skin would press flush against his. your mouth would be somewhere it shouldnβt be yet, sweet and needy and completely unfair. the details always blurred as reality crashed in, but the physical aftermath was painfully clear. heβd snap awake aching and rock hard, his chest heaving in the quiet dark, the front of his sleep pants ruined and uncomfortably sticky. he would just lie there, face burning into his pillow, before dragging himself out of bed to wash the evidence away, feeling like an absolute criminal by morning.
every time, it was you.
of course it was you.
you were his first serious girlfriend. the first person he actually wanted to be good for. the first person who made him think about things he immediately wanted to bury under concrete and never speak of again. maybe, hopefully, someday you would be his first in other ways too.
the thought alone made him shove his face into his pillow and silently consider becoming religious.
oh, he was so cooked.
the worst part started after evening training.
the campus field was still warm from the afternoon sun, grass damp beneath everyoneβs shoes, the air filled with the sound of yuji complaining that nobara kept aiming for his head. you had dropped your gym bag near megumiβs by the benches, half-zipped because you never really closed anything properly, then wandered off to refill your water bottle.
megumi had summoned rabbit escape for control practice. nothing serious, just a few white rabbits scattering through the grass while yuji tried not to step on them and nobara accused him of weaponizing cuteness. one of the rabbits, smaller than the rest and apparently born with no morals, hopped toward your open bag.
megumi saw the flash of pink before anyone else did.
his body went very still.
the rabbit tugged something soft from the side pocket and sat there proudly, your panties caught between its little teeth like it had just won a prize.
megumi moved so fast he almost tripped.
he scooped the rabbit up, turned his back to the field, and pulled the fabric away before yuji could glance over. his heart was beating too hard for something that was, technically, laundry. just laundry. normal laundry. laundry that absolutely should have gone straight back into your bag like a normal boyfriend with a normal brain would do.
βdonβt,β he whispered to the rabbit.
the rabbit blinked.
you called his name from across the field, smiling as you lifted your water bottle. βgumi, you okay?β
megumi panicked.
he shoved the fabric into the pocket of his track jacket.
βyeah,β he called back, voice flat enough to pass as normal if nobody looked too closely. βfine.β
just for now, he told himself. he would put it back later. when nobody was looking. when his pulse stopped acting like he had robbed a bank.
κ£ΰ§ DECENT PERSON, MY ASS.
that night the dorm room was too quiet. megumi sat on the edge of his bed with the lights off, only the faint glow from the campus path outside slipping through the blinds. the pink panties were still in his pocket. he hadnβt even taken his jacket off yet. his fingers brushed the soft fabric when he finally reached in, and the second he pulled them out his stomach flipped.
he should throw them back in the drawer. he should wash them. he should do anything except what he was about to do.
instead he leaned back against the pillows, breath already shaky, and unfolded the delicate pink material. the little bow caught on his thumb. the scent of youβwarm skin, faint floral detergent, the ghost of your bodyβhit him so hard his cock twitched instantly in his sweats.
βfuckβ¦ iβm sorry,β he muttered, like you could hear him. like apologizing to the empty room would make this less pathetic.
he shoved his sweats and boxers down just enough, his cock springing free, already flushed and leaking. he wrapped the panties around his length slowly, the silky fabric cool against hot skin, and the first stroke pulled a quiet, broken sound from his throat. the little bow dragged under the head and his hips jerked up without permission.
megumi closed his eyes and let the thoughts flood in.
he imagined you in his lap, thighs spread over his, wearing nothing but that exact pair. the way youβd smile at him all teasing and fond when you felt how hard he was. the way youβd rock against him, grinding the soft fabric right against his cock while you kissed that spot under his jaw that always made him weak. your voice in his ear, low and sweet, calling him βgumiβ like you knew exactly what you did to him.
his hand moved faster, twisting a little at the head, the soaked panties sliding obscenely over his shaft. pre-cum darkened the pink almost immediately. he pictured pushing the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your slick folds instead, hearing that tiny gasp you made whenever he touched you somewhere new. he wanted to bury his face between your thighs and stay there until you were shaking. wanted to hear you moan his name while he finally pushed inside you, slow and careful and so fucking deep.
βshitβ youβd feel so so hng g-good,β he whispered, voice hoarse. his strokes turned messy, desperate. the wet sound of fabric and skin filled the room and it only made him harder. βso warmβ¦ so tightβ¦ f-fuck, i want you so badββ
the guilt twisted sharp in his chest, but it only made the heat worse. he was disgusting. he was a terrible boyfriend. and still, he couldnβt stop. he pressed the panties tighter in his fist, close enough to feel the soft fabric against his palm, imagining your hand instead, your mouth, the way youβd look up at him with that bright, wicked little smile while you took him apart.
his thighs tensed. his free hand fisted the sheets. when he felt himself getting close, some ridiculous, half-functioning part of his brain still had the nerve to panic.
not on them.
megumi jerked the fabric away at the last second like it was something precious, something he had no right to ruin, and buried his face into his forearm as the feeling hit him hard and sudden. his hips stuttered, breath breaking into a choked sound he barely managed to swallow, body trembling through every shaky wave until the room went quiet again.
for a long moment, he just lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling like it might offer judgment. it didnβt, duh.
which was rude, honestly.
the pink panties were still clutched safely in his hand, untouched and soft, still carrying that faint trace of your perfume, your laundry soap, you. megumi looked at them through half-lidded eyes, flushed and ruined and still careful enough to fold them against his chest like that somehow made any of this less insane.
megumi, once again, told himself he would return it before this got any worse.
κ£ΰ§ JOKEβS ON YOU.
by the next afternoon, it had gotten worse.
not because of the drills, though they were annoying. not because yuji kept trying to turn sparring into a competition no one had agreed to. worse because you were sitting beside megumi on the bench, digging through your gym bag with a frown while he wrapped tape around his wrist and pretended the top drawer in his dorm didnβt exist.
βthis is actually so annoying,β you said.
megumi kept his eyes on the tape. βwhat is?β
βmy new pink pair is gone.β you pushed aside your towel, lip gloss, and spare shirt with growing offense. βi swear i put it in here after changing yesterday. it had a little bow and everything. very cute. now itβs missing.β
megumiβs fingers paused for one single heartbeat.
βmaybe you left it in your room.β
βi checked.β you sighed like you had suffered a real tragedy. βtwice. i think the campus laundry ghosts have chosen me.β
βsorry for your loss.β
βthank you. iβll need snack compensation.β
βfor underwear?β
βfor emotional damage.β
he looked at you then, and you looked so genuinely annoyed that guilt twisted through him, sharp and hot. you werenβt suspicious. you werenβt accusing him. you were just talking to him the way you always did, dragging him into your little complaints because he was your boyfriend and that was supposed to mean something simple and safe.
megumi swallowed.
he would return it tonight.
probably.
training picked up again after that, saving him from having to speak. the two of you sparred under the sun until sweat slid down the side of his face and his black shirt stuck lightly to his back. you were quick today, playful, laughing whenever he dodged too easily and calling him a show-off when he pinned your wrist for half a second longer than necessary.
by the time you both stopped, megumi was warm, tired, and dangerously close to forgetting how to act normal.
he turned away and lifted the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face.
the movement exposed his stomach.
you went quiet.
megumi lowered the fabric just enough to see you staring, eyes fixed on the lean lines of muscle along his abdomen and the sharp dip disappearing beneath the waistband of his sweats. your expression changed slowly, surprise melting into something bright and wicked.
βwow, βgumi,β you said, stepping closer. βi didnβt know you had nice abs.β
his whole body locked. βdonβt say it like that.β
βlike what?β
βlike youβre enjoying this.β
βi am enjoying this.β
that should not have affected him as much as it did.
you reached for him before he could escape, fingertips brushing the exposed skin near his ribs. megumiβs breath hitched so quietly he prayed you didnβt hear it. your touch slid lower, still teasing, still light, tracing the firm plane of his stomach until your fingers grazed the line near his hip.
his body betrayed him immediately.
megumi caught your wrist, quick but gentle, and shifted his hips back just enough to save what remained of his dignity. you blinked up at him, then smiled like you had just discovered something valuable and planned to become a menace about it.
βsensitive?β you asked.
βannoying,β he said, voice too low.
βyouβre blushing.β
βitβs hot outside.β
βmhm.β your eyes flicked down for half a second. βsure.β
he was going to die on this field.
then yujiβs voice cut through the air like divine punishment. βare you two flirting or are we training?β
megumi let go of your wrist so fast it was embarrassing.
you only laughed, bright and shameless, before stepping back like you hadnβt just put him through five stages of grief in public. nobara, of course, saw enough to make her grin sharp.
βtheyβre flirting,β she said. βbadly, but still.β
βweβre training,β megumi muttered.
βsure,β you said, attempting to tease him. βwhatever helps you sleep at night.β
it did not help him sleep at night.
κ£ΰ§ SPICE UP UR LIFE, COME GET A FREAK LIKE ME(GUMI)...
later that day, after practice ended, megumi returned to his dorm alone and opened the top drawer. he stared at the folded pink fabric tucked beneath one of his shirts. outside his window, campus lights glowed soft and yellow. on his desk, his phone buzzed.
y/n: still mourning the pink pair </3
y/n: she was cute, she was soft, she was taken too soon βΉ
y/n: snack compensation tomorrow? βοΈγ‘
megumi stared at the message until the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
then he looked at the drawer again. βiβm a terrible person,β he muttered.
from the corner of the room, one of the rabbits twitched its nose like it agreed.
he should have shut the drawer. he really should have.
instead, megumi opened it again, slow enough that the wood barely made a sound. the pink fabric sat folded beneath one of his shirts, soft and damning, carrying the faintest trace of your scent. his fingers curled around it before he could talk himself out of it, and for one shameful second, he pressed the fabric directly over his nose and mouth. his eyes fell shut as he dragged in a long desperate breath.
your scentβwarm, sweet, and intoxicatingly familiarβflooded his lungs, pulling a low, ragged groan from the back of his throat. his knuckles turned white as his grip tightened.
oh, he was disgusting.
worse than that, he was hopeless.
because for all his restraint, all his discipline, all his quiet little attempts to be the perfect boyfriend you deserved, fushiguro megumi had one serious problem.
Premise: You work full-time as a housekeeper for a sketchy motel just to get by, barely enough to pay rent for your shitty one-bedroom apartment and care for you, and the cat you adopted when you found him out by the dumpsters. When you're unexpectedly fired from your job, a man in a yellow Carhart jacket offers you a deal, and tells you to think it over.
And, what other choice do you have?
Series warnings: 18+ MDNI, Female reader, Everyone's height is based off of your own, No hair description or skin description for reader, Everybody wants a piece of that, Swearing, Fandom-Typical dark themes such as; Blood, Kidnapping, Murder, Drugs/Alcohol, Classic Slender mansion AU, Y/N used for the vibes, this is purely for fun
Chapter Warnings: Swearing, mentions of cleaning up blood, Accidently skipping meals, Descriptions of fainting, Y/N might have some kind of marble hornets-esque sickness, Implied cannibalism, If I missed anything, let me know!
The bed here is far cozier than the one you used to own, and you sleepily wonder what happened to your old mattress as you pull the blankets up to your chin. Oatmeal purrs quietly, curled up in a ball right against your legs, the lights dim and the house quiet and soothing in a way you weren't sure was possible here. You're not sure what time it is, just that the sun is still long since asleep, and you were softly lulled out of unconsciousness by something quiet and unknown.
You've barely started to settle back in, filling your lungs with the fresh sweet night air coming in from the cracked window, the world around you growing fuzzy as your brain attempts to pull you back into a dream.
A creak in the wooden floor makes your eyes snap open without you wanting them to, body jolting awake at the sudden noise in your seemingly empty bedroom. You force your breath to stay steady, wondering if one of the many residents of the mansion no longer want you here despite barely having made it through a full day. Oatmeal perks up his head, his eyes resting on something in the middle of the room and staying there, wide and watching as he stares into the dark of your bedroom.
Moving to prop yourself up on your elbow feels like you're being weighted down by wet concrete, your body attempting to play dead in wake of something unseen hiding in your room. When the light flicks on, you're face to face with big green eyes, gasping and jumping upright in your bed as giggles fill the otherwise quiet room.
Sally laughs, clearly finding an incredible amount of joy in having scared you awake. It's hard to be mad, her smile pure and genuine while she beams at you, the hand you have placed over your heart barely doing anything to calm your nerves. You laugh despite yourself, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you settle your attention on the small girl in the center of your room.
"Jeez, you sure know how to spook someone, huh?" You smile over at her, breath slowly returning to normal as Oatmeal stands up with a stretch and a yawn, walking to the edge of the bed to meow at Sally in hopes of getting extra attention. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep." She wrings her fingers together, twisting in her spot before she steps forward to let Oatmeal sniff the back of her hand. The cat skips the formalities, shoving his head into her hand while she grins down at him. "I wanted hot chocolate."
"YouβWhat?" You're honestly not sure if you heard her right, the boldness of standing in someones room until they wake up to ask for hot chocolate more so impressive than anything else. "You want me to make you some hot chocolate?"
"Yes, please!" She says it like it's your idea, a dimpled smile making it increasingly hard to say no as you consider what the harm could be in making a small batch of hot chocolate. The more you think about it, the tastier it sounds, really.
"You know what? I will go make us some hot chocolate." You nod, just the excitement she exudes from making a simple warm treat worth waking up in the middle of the night. A small part of you understands how much parents love their kids, and another part of you wishes for an uninterrupted night of sleep. "Go ahead and wait in your room, I'll be back up with your hot chocolate in a couple minutes, okay?"
"Okay!" She scoops up Oatmeal without another word, the cat overly large in her arms and looking at you like he's not quite sure whether or not to be happy about this. Regardless, he lets the girl carry him out of the room without a problem, soft humming from a little voice slowly fading away.
You slide out of bed, the hardwood floor chilly on your feet as you gather your balance, still barely awake and using the side table for support. You leave your door open, still rubbing the blurriness from your vision as you reach the end of the hallway.
There's a small light on above the sink, and you already can't wait to go back to the soothing dim lighting before you've even turned on the bigger light. Unfortunately, you need light to search for cocoa ingredients, so you close your eyes and turn on the big light in hopes to slowly adjust your eyes.
Somehow, the light is more than tolerable when you open your eyes. You can see, you can search, but you're positive the lights are much dimmer than they were just a few hours ago at dinner. You place a hand on the wooden door frame, sleepily thanking the house for not being too bright before you can second guess the action.
You manage to find all the things you need, placing a big pot on the stove and the ingredients in one by one, the house silent besides the trees softly rustling outside the windows. Normally, you expect to hear crickets, or birds that wake up before the sun does. But, you hear nothing, the woods asleep just like most of the residents of the mansion you now call home.
Even your own sounds seem muffled, careful to place the cocoa powder down and then it barely makes a tap, your footsteps all far quieter than you think they should be. You're too tired to evaluate it, so you silently put together a pot of hot chocolate, and stir needlessly through half-lidded eyes.
"The fuck are you doing in here so late?" The voice makes you jump, whipping around to see a confused Jeff, most of his normal annoyance hidden with exhaustion, dark shirt and sweatpants replacing his usual attire. Your eyes trail down to his socks, bright blue with stars on them that stick out like a sore thumb against the rest of him.
You decide not to comment on it.
"Sally wanted hot chocolate." You motion to the pot with the whisk still in your hand, all the ingredients safely tucked away where they belong. "I made too much on accident, do you want some?"
"Did she scare you awake for it?" There's barely the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, exaggerated by the carved smile scarred into his cheeks. He snickers when you nod, shaking his head like it's a routine he knows all too well. His eyes trail to the pot on the stove, for once looking more amused than irritated. "And you got up at 3 in the morning to make her hot chocolate from scratch?"
"Well, it tastes better when it's home made." You mostly grumble, leaving out the part you didn't realize not making it from scratch was even an option.
He walks further into the kitchen without a word, opening a cupboard near the sink and reaching up to a shelf you couldn't quite reach. He tosses down two pre-made hot chocolate mixes, closing the cupboard before leaning back against the counter beside them.
"For next time." He nods towards the packets, watching as you pull down a third mug, and cross the kitchen to snag a bottle of whipped cream from the fridge.
"I don't think she'll let me use the pre-made ones after having it this way." You turn off the stove and give the pot one last stir before you scoop him a mug, holding up the whipped cream in silent question, and handing him the full mug without the topping when he declines any.
You turn back to the stove, scooping Sally and yourself a mug, and being generous with the whipped cream. You put a few rainbow sprinkles on the top of hers, the little detail always making it 'taste better' to younger eyes. Thankfully, scooping Sally a normal sized mug, and you and Jeff two rather large ones managed to use up all of the hot chocolate you had made.
When you turn back around to place the pot in the sink, you're surprised to see Jeff still standing in the same spot. He's staring at the liquid in the mug like he's debating something, brows furrowed and a new tense in his jaw.
"Be careful around here, okay?" He doesn't look at you as he speaks, eyes stuck on the hot chocolate and refusing to meet your own. "Don't let your guard down." He leaves the kitchen without another word, head down and steps nearly silent as he disappears from view, leaving you with an unease settling in your chest as his words swirl uselessly through your head.
You leave the pot to deal with in the morning, putting away the sprinkles and whipped cream before you flick off the light and grab the mugs. The ceramic is warm in your hands, the curtains blowing softly in the late-night air, and where you were previously serene and sleepy, you're now on edge and on high alert.
Sally is cozy in her bed when you reach her, Oatmeal already curled up and asleep on her lap as she quietly giggles, in the process of softly poking his ear so it flicks repeatedly. She meets your eyes with more surprise than you were expecting, her gaze falling to the mug of hot chocolate in your hand as all confusion is replaced with palpable excitement.
"I thought you forgot!" She whispers too loudly, her body restless in her spot under the sleeping cat as you carefully bring her the mug. Little hands reach out eagerly, her 'thank you' nearly interrupted by the drink. Already large eyes get impossibly bigger, filling with utter glee as she starts sipping on the cocoa. "This is the best hot chocolate ever."
"Do you mind if I bring him back to bed with me?" You point at the cat on her lap, and she nods before finishing a particularly large sip, out of breath from using all of her might to drink up the hot chocolate as soon as possible.
"Yeah, he's heavy for my legs." She wiggles her feet, the sight temporarily easing the previous fright that had settled in at Jeff's words. You pick up Oatmeal, the cat laying like a lug over your shoulder as he gets comfortable in your arms, little head rested on you as big eyes sleepily scan the room. "Thank you for the hot chocolate, miss." You melt a little at her warm words, a genuine compliment from a child always feeling a little more meaningful. "I hope you last longer than the others."
The warmth is replaced by freezing cold fear not a moment later, bucketing down on you like she had just dropped you back into reality with 8 simple words. You manage a smile, mumbling something about how drinking the cocoa too fast will upset her stomach as you all but dart out of her bedroom.
Oatmeal still lays cozy over your shoulder, the soft purring making it a little easier to get through the long dark hallways and deep dark staircases, the trek back to your bedroom passing by much quicker than you're sure it should. Regardless, soon you're back in your bed with a cup of hot chocolate, feeling a little safer in your own bubble with your own things.
Stupidly, you think maybe distracting yourself with your phone may help. But, instead, you have a message from an unknown number, the 'Hello, Human (:" Staring back at you doing nothing to ease any worries.
It's just Viviana, apparently given your phone number from Ben, who you learn has far more information than you'd ever like anyone to have. Somehow, knowing who it is doesn't make you feel any better, only wondering now who else has your number, and if you even know them.
You're not sure when you fell asleep, only that your alarm is waking you up and the sun is now high in the sky. Oatmeal stretches and yawns, hopping off the bed to surely go get his morning snack and water, leaving you to wonder how much of last night was incomprehensible dreams, and how much was reality.
There's another text on your phone when you check, this time from Tim, letting you know Slender will be sending you both on an outing for supplies. A part of you is excited for the travel through the woods, and another part of you is anxious at the thought of spending hours in a confined space with someone you don't really know.
Regardless, you have a busy day ahead of you.
You're dressed and ready for the day much faster than you would be normally, eager to get to the tasks that have been slowly eating away at the back of your every thought. Normally, you think you may have forgotten a thing or two by now, or have to take a couple moments to gather up the list in your head. But, it seems like the mental list is kept somewhere safe for you, physical and solid as you sort through each thing without forgetting a detail.
The pot and mugs from the night before barely take five minutes to clean, and when that's done, you're more than itching to get to the large stain by the front door, unsure why that spot has felt particularly bothersome to you. It's after you've gotten on your hands and knees to pour and dab with hydrogen peroxide that you hear the faint sound of footsteps slowly making their way up the porch on the other side of the door.
You're too focused on what you're doing to notice the door open, old blood bubbling up to be dabbed away over and over again mesmerizing in a way you're not sure it should be. It's only when a set of dark heels stop in front of you that you're finally snapped out of your daze, head shooting up to meet the gaze of the woman looking down at you.
Her eyes are pitch black and sharp, the rest of her features soft on a white stained face, black hair and lips stark in contrast. She stands in front of you without a word, black heels just on the outskirts of the stain you're removing.
"Are you the new housekeeper?" Her voice is smooth, alluring in a way that nearly makes you stutter when you respond. Her expression stays measured, her figure hugged by a dress as dark as her eyes, perfume making you dizzy as you stare up at her from your spot on the ground.
"Yeah." You shrug, you attention slowly being pulled back to the stain you're working out like a string is tied to your thoughts and tugged on. "I got here two days ago, I think?"
"Time is strange here." She nods, kneeling down to be level with your eyes as she looks you over. "My name is Jane. I hope I see you again."
Jane reaches toward your cheek, a delicate touch to your skin as she wipes away a small splatter of something that had settled on your cheekbone. Her touch doesn't linger, and her smile doesn't reach her eyes as she stands back upright from her spot crouched in front of you.
Her heels click on the hardwood floor as she walks away, leisurely making her way towards and up the stairway, nails tracing along the molding on the banister. Your attention is back on the stain before you realize it, already more than halfway gone and taking up all your brainpower like a parasite.
You hear a familiar squeal from upstairs, likely Nina greeting Jane, and can't help but smile as you pour and dab out the blood. Something about it feels homey, the distant giggles and chatter as Nina catches up with Jane, the mundane routine as you watch the old dried up gore bubble up and out of the wooden floor just to get patted away by a browning cloth.
The rest of the day is more of the same, pulled one direction and the next by an invisible task list like you're an android designed to accomplish a task. By the time you realized you had accidentally skipped breakfast, the dinner bell is ripping you up and out of your hours-long daze. You gasp like you had been jump scared, suddenly back in your body all at once, the sensation making you nearly topple over.
Your ears ring, static filling your head and vision, the small cleaning closet in front of you quickly out of focus and growing dark as you uselessly try to support yourself on the doorframe.
By the time you can see and hear again, you can feel a chest against your back, and hands softly holding your arms to keep you upright. A groan slips past your lips, your hand reaching up to hold your head as you steady yourself and turn around, met with sweet brown eyes that look a little more amused than concerned.
"Are you o-okay?" Toby keeps a hand on your arm just below your shoulder, unintrusive and rather helpful as the dizzy spell passes. "Y'almost knocked me over."
"Yeah, I just got really dizzy." You step away from his hand once you feel normal again, vision clear and head slowly draining the static away as you catch your breath. "I didn't realize how late it was, it feels like I just woke up."
"Yeah, you'll get used to it." He shrugs, cracking his knuckles rhythmically, bandage tugging at his cheek when he smiles down at you. "Can never tell if it's Slender, or the house."
You're a little unsure what to say in response, eyes drifting to the grain in the wooden doorframe like it'll have an answer to Toby's question, only coming up more confused than before. It's a frustrating pattern you've noticed lately, that every time you're given new information, it only holds a million more tiny questions inside.
"C'mon, Slender gets Sa-Sassy if we're late to dinner." He nods toward the end of the hall, waiting for you to follow him out of the closet and into the kitchen. His head snaps to the side as you close the door, shoulder smacking into his ear in a way that looks painful, and doesn't seem to affect him whatsoever.
You follow silently, watching Toby plop himself down in the same seat he was in last night, leaned all the way back like he hasn't got a care in the world, a small smile perpetually on his face as he silently watches the already unfolding chaos at the table.
Nina is talking enthusiastically with her hands to a rather serene looking Jane, the bright pinks and purples waving around a rather jarring contrast to the still woman only in black and white.
Slender is busy with plating the food as you take a moment at the sink to clean up before dinner, the inside of the kitchen reflecting on the window in front of you as you wash your hands. You're not sure if you can see movement from outside, or from inside, but the skittering and darting your eyes keep catching makes your skin crawl and your hair stand on end.
Your eyes involuntarily snap down to your hands in the running water, watching the soap run off your skin instead of the possible thing moving around out in the dark woods. You can't bring yourself to check again, muscles tensing like the thing is getting closer, like it sees you, and you body can tell without having to meet it's eye. You go through the motions anyway, skin so taut you shake as you turn the water off and dry your hands, rushing back towards the table just fast enough to worry it could chase you despite not being inside.
Jeff is the only one missing from the list of people that were here last night, instead replaced by Jane, the only similarities being the pale face and dark hair.
Slender sets down the plates, and Jack brings his and Viviana's food, the two seemingly trading off cooking responsibilities due to their abnormal diet. You consider for a moment asking, but worry the question is somehow invasive, the members of the mansion all being rather private it seems.
A plate is set down in the empty seat beside yours, Slender sitting at the head of the table as everyone begins their meal. You eye Jack and Viviana's plates, their food always looking a little different than everyone else.
Viviana notices, clouds of eyes moving from yours to her plate as she gathers up a bite full on her fork. She holds it out across the table to you, a small smile on her face as she ignores a shocked Jack beside her, his own fork stopping halfway to his mouth as he watches the interaction.
"Would you like to try some?" Her smile holds something you can't quite decipher, the food inching toward your mouth as she keeps a careful hand beneath the fork just in case a piece of food falls.
You take a bite, the flavor and texture wholly unique. It isn't bad by any means, just new, and she looks more than happy you've indulged her by taking a bite of her food. Jack says nothing, hesitating before he resumes his own meal, and you wonder what exactly it is that you just ate.
The front door slams open, the walls shaking when it's subsequently slammed shut. "Jane, you fucking bitch!"
The table falls silent as Jeff's voice rings out from the entryway, your eyes falling on Jane, who could not look more amused than she does in this moment. Her smile is bright and genuine, hard to hold back as she shifts in her seat, waiting for Jeff to stomp his way into the dining area. His chair creaks as he plops himself down, all but missing the steam coming out of his ears as he crosses his arms and bounces his leg rapidly.
"Is there a problem, Jeffery?" Jane's voice is just as calm as when she met you, smooth and soft as she takes a bite of her food like she has all the time in the world and more. "You seem upset."
"I hunted him for weeks. Weeks!" He nearly slams his hand down to grab his fork, his movements sharp and jagged as he rants and raves to the rather happy woman sitting across from him. "Just for you to fucking hide him from me. Where did you put him this time?"
"Telling you would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?" She grins, beaming and proud of whatever she did, soaking up all of Jeff's irritation like her favorite drink. "What I will say, is that it barely took time out of my own missions."
"You are so fucking lucky I can't kill you." He points the knife he's using toward her with his words, sharp edge glinting in the light with every harsh word that comes out of his mouth.
"What, you mean a second time?" Her eyes narrow, tone snippier around the edges than it had been before, knuckles growing pale as she grips her fork a little too hard. "I would love to see you tryβ"
"Enough." Slender's voice booms so loud it echos in your skull, bouncing around and giving you a headache as it rings out, the previous growing fight falling silent in an instant. The two eye each other from across the table, their mouths nearly glued shut as they pick at the food in front of them, clearly more to say on the tip of their tongues. "Y/N and Timothy are making a supply run tomorrow. If you have any requests, put them on the list before 7am tomorrow morning."
Dinner is silent from then on out, with everyone slowly filing out in an unnaturally polite manner one by one as they each finish their meals. Once the table is empty, you move through the motions of cleaning up and washing dishes, tasks being crossed off your list one by one.
You call it an early night after the dishes are done and you've showered, laying in bed with Oatmeal sleeping across your legs as you stare at the ceiling, too many and not enough thoughts all spinning around too fast for you to hold onto one.
Eventually, it's morning, and you're dressed for the outing and being given a rather large list of things to get from outside of the woods. The list ranges from groceries, to bleach, to rope and chains, each item painting a clear picture you refuse to see.
Maybe, you consider, they're hunters.
And, that's certainly one way to put it.
Tim greets you with a curt nod as you step outside of the mansion for the first time since you've arrived, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray balanced on the railing of the large wooden porch. He moves down the steps and toward the truck without a word, and you can't quite tell if it's because he trusts you'll follow, or because he doesn't care.
The radio starts up with the rumble of the truck, music hidden under the engine as you buckle your seatbelt, the car bouncing and rocking on the uneven ground. The ride begins quiet, a comfortable silence as Tim drives and you watch the trees out the passenger side window.
Slowly, the further away you get, the more connected to your body you begin to feel. Your thoughts start to become your own, concerns you should've had sooner becoming all too clear as you're shocked back into reality in the harshest way yet.
Your hand rests against your forehead, a gentle throbbing you're getting really tired of settling in your skull. Tim notices, sparing you a glance before he starts talking, keeping his eyes on the dirt road as he reaches just behind the seat to grab a small bag.
"Her part of the woods always feels the weirdest." He plops the bag in your lap, pills rattling inside the small backpack, a fresh water bottle in the mesh on the side. "Take two, it'll help."
"Who is 'Her'?" Asking a question feels abnormal, a genuine wonder slipping past your lips as you unzip the bag, snacks and water and a small bottle of prescription painkillers inside.
"She's a neighbor, helps us out sometimes if we ask nice." He shrugs, a small sigh following as he motions off somewhere in the woods. "We'll probably have to stop by her cabin on the way back to get the charms."
"Does she have a name?" You pop two of the pills in your mouth, deciding after everything going on lately, now really isn't the time to start being cautious. The water is slightly warm, and drinking it just makes your throat feel dry, but you're hopeful for the painkillers to do their job.
"She has a few." He looks over at you for a little longer this time, just barley a few seconds before his focus is back on the path ahead, an actual paved road coming into view at the farthest edge of your vision. "How's the sickness treating you?"
"The what?" You pause as you zip up the bag, looking over at him with your brows knit together as he drives through the trees.
"We call it the 'Slender sickness', but it's a little different for the housekeepers." He shrugs like it's normal, the truck bumping and evening out as it reaches pavement sooner than you think it should, the woods growing and shrinking the same way the mansion often seems to. "Seemed like a lot on you today."
"I had a lot to do." You let your head fall back against the seat behind you, the hooks of the mansion slowly easing their way out of you as you travel further away. "It's kinda nice to be so focused, my apartment would've been a lot cleaner if I had this before."
He laughs, the sound surprising you more than you expected. You can't help the smile growing on your features, the absurdity of everything something you hadn't considered as funny before, now making giggles bubble up from your chest.
"You are really something else, you know that?" He shakes his head, a warm bewilderment settling over him as you shrug back at him in response, comfortable silence filling up the space where laughter has died down.
Despite the circumstances, the unknown and the absurd, maybe these are people you can call your friends. At least, you hope.
AN: Fun fact, originally this was titled "Someone's in the bathroom" but the name was a little too long and had nothing to do w the story so I changed it for posting.
CHAAATTT are the spooky parts spooky? I lowkey creeped myself out a tiny bit when I was talking about the possible thing outside the window idk I hope it freaked you out too heheh
Sorry it took me extra long to write this one, a game I've been waiting nearly 7 years for finally released and it is currently taking up all my brainpower uughghhghhghh
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