CreepyPasta x Reader

I Got 99 Problems and Ben Ain't 1- BEN Drowned

You were sitting on your bed, wrapped in a comforter and crying your eyes out. Why? Your best friend of three years got herself a girlfriend and decided to start ignoring you. Literally, she'd begun to walk around you and avoid you at school. The most excruciating part of this was that you'd devoted yourself to her and helped her through some of her hardest times in life, and now you were no more than a nuisance to her.
You sniffed and wiped your nose on your sleeve, having long since run out of Kleenex. As you heaved a sigh and buried your face into the huge blanket wrapped around you, you suddenly felt the gnawing sensation inside you to do something to distract you from the emptiness and hurt you felt inside.
You reached towards your computer, laying a few feet away from you at the foot of your bed. Brushing a strand of your [H/L], [H/C] hair out of your face and behind your ear, you logged on and debated what to do.
You could screw around on WattPad for awhile, but reading all the fluffy stories you did would leave you feeling sad once you finished. And you couldn't really see that well, as your [E/C] eyes were swollen and puffy.
You could try to play a game, maybe. Yeah, that sounded like a good idea.
After a quick Google search for good free online games, you realized that there weren't any games that could entertain you for more than a few minutes. Back to square one, you pushed your computer away and groaned.
You looked around and, upon seeing the cartridge for some 'vintage' games scattered in your floor, you decided to search through the pile.
After settling on Majora's Mask, you popped it into the console. It didn't work, and you sighed before pulling it out, blew on it and popped it back in. This time it booted up normally and you could actually play.
Taking the controller in your hands, you began the game and easily blew through the first bit of the game. It was easy and took your mind off of the drama in your life.
Video games were always a sanctuary of sorts to you. Whenever you had a problem you could either mine it out, race it out, or just play something as casual as that one pigeon dating simulator you loved so much. Your father had inspired your love of video games at a young age, and you'd since become somewhat of a master.
Which is why you were breezing through Majora's Mask. Until the creepy stuff started happening.
The game glitched for a second before resuming as normal, with the music being...different. You vaguely recognized it as a piece from a later stage and were totally confused so as to why it was playing now. It wasn't until you started seeing messed up little statues that you decided that something was wrong.
You tried to exit the game but it wouldn't go back to the menu. It wouldn't even save the game. Sighing, you pound the console, trying to see if something got stuck or jammed. When that didn't work, you simply got up and unplugged the console from the TV. Right as you did that, you saw a text box pop onscreen. The TV cut the video feed too quickly for you to read it so you just shrugged it off, turned off the TV and crawled back into your bed.
Pulling the comforter closer around your body, you wormed your way into a little burrito. Totally content, you closed your eyes and softly dozed off.
You had strange dreams that night. You couldn't remember them, but you somehow knew that something was coming. Something...otherworldly. Sighing off the feeling, you stretched and checked your clock. It was 4:28 in the morning.
4:28. In the freakin' morning.
...why were you awake?
You groaned and flipped over into your side to try to go back to sleep. Just as your eyes closed, you heard a peculiar sound coming from the TV. You sat upright to listen better.
It sounded like static interference, the kind you get when a storm knocks out the satellite.
Wait a minute, didn't you turn the TV off? You could've sworn that you turned it off before going to sleep. Oh well. You rubbed your eyes and hit the power button on the remote.
Nothing happened. You hit it again. Again, nothing. Totally frustrated now, you storm up and unplug the television itself, noticing that the console is somehow plugged in again.
You were positive that you unplugged it. What happened, was someone in your room while you were asleep? The thought made you shudder.
"You shouldn't have done that."
A stranger's voice made you snap your eyes up to the television screen. You gasped at what you saw.
Inside was Link. Well, a demented version of Link.
His eyes were completely black with red pupils, with what looked to be blood dripping down from each eye. He had a manical grin, but strangely, you weren't scared. That much.
"What do you want?" You ask him, before backing up away from the TV.
He smirked even wider. "Well obviously, I'm here to kill you."
Your eyes widened and you rushed for the door, only for someone to grab your wrist and restrain you. Looking back, you see the boy, his torso fully extended out of the television. You try to yank your wrist out of his grip, but his hold on you simply tightens and softly pulls you over in front of him.
"Relax babe, relax. I'm not gonna kill you tonight."
Slightly terrified you shoot back, "Oh well that's comforting!" He chuckled.
"Look, I'll let you go if you promise me you won't run out. Deal?" You narrowed your eyes and considered the consequences. If you run out the door, that could mean death. If you sit on your bed, that could mean death. Fun.
Electing to die comfortably, you nod softly. He released your wrist and you back up and crawl into your bed. You cross your legs and stare at him as if awaiting a command.
"Good, good. Now, babe, what's your name?" You eye him viciously before quietly uttering "[Y/N]." He smiled.
"Really, [Y/N]? That's my favorite name." You give him a dubious look.
"Really?" He chuckled.
"Well I mean, it is now." This actually makes you smile a little bit and feel more at ease. "Mind if I join you?" He asks you respectfully.
"...what?" He rolls his eyes before lurching forward and slowly pulling his entire body out of the television. When he's done, he stands up and plops on your bed across from you.
You quickly turn yourself around to face him. "So...if you're not here to kill me, why are you here?" He shrugged.
"I dunno babe. I mean, you're one of the better players I've seen, and I didn't have anything going on so I figured, 'why not go freak her out?' Plus, you're kinda really fucking cute." You blush, though neither of you can see it in the dim light of the room.
"Well, thanks. I guess." He shrugged his shoulders and smiles, seeming more genuine.
The two of you break into a quiet conversation, and discovered that you actually have a lot in common, not to mention you thought he was kinda hot...
It was about 6:47 when you realized how totally exhausted you were. You stifled a yawn.
Ben must have noticed this. "[Y/N] I know this isn't my shtick but go to sleep."
"No, I'm good, I swear!" He shook his head and slid off your bed.
"Go to bed babe. I'll visit you later." He leaned down and kissed your forehead gently before adding, "Who knows, maybe you'll be getting out of the shower." You glared at him evilly. He just grins and gives you a 'thumbs up' gesture before diving back into the TV screen.
You only sit and puzzle about the obsurdity of what just happened for a moment before you fall asleep.

You got home from school the next day, your anger at the friend situation totally renewed.
Your friend had literally looked at you before turning around and walking away.
It was the ultimate crushing blow and all you wanted to do was throw yourself down on your bed and cry.
Which is what you did.
You sniffed and continued sobbing, until you realized that someone was rubbing your back. Swallowing thickly, you turn to see Ben sitting next to you, calmingly rubbing your back.
Sniffling, you force a small smile. "Hey Ben."
"Hey babe. What's wrong?"
Sighing, you sit up and explain to him your dilemma with your so-called best friend. He listened intently, his hands in his lap and his face a mask.
When you finished, he reached over and put his hand on your shoulder.
"[Y/N] first of all, I'm sorry." He put his hand back in his lap and gazed at your face. "My buddy Jeff, we call him Jeffie behind his back to annoy him, Jeffie had this thing with a girl and started ignoring the rest of us. And we said 'look bro, she's bad news, she just wants to kill you and mutilate you and shit' but he didn't listen to us. Nah," Ben said as he sighed and adjusted his hat. "He was totally obsessed with her. And one day, he comes to us, covered in blood, and we go 'Jeffie, you idiot, we told you this would happen. We fucking told you.' And he just said to piss off and he left to get cleaned up. And every now and again, he gets it bad for this girl, Jane or Joan, hell if I know, but, now he knows better. Now he knows that we may fight and try to beat the shit outta each other, but we still look out for his dumb ass. And I think you're in a similar situation."
You blinked. "Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah, I mean, your friend just needs to pull her head out of her ass long enough to see that you're here for her." You take in the information.
"But-" he began again. "You need to make sure she doesn't take advantage of you."
The conversation continued on like this for a little while. You found that Ben, despite his pervy nature and highly insane job, was a really good guy. He seemed to care a lot about your well being.
The next time Ben came, you were sitting on the living room couch, moping over the fact that your friend had started gossiping about you.
He popped out of the TV.
"What's cookin', good lookin'?" You grin and make room for him on your couch.
You loved when Ben came over, he made you so happy and (ironically) peaceful. He seemed to enjoy spending time with you too, but honestly you were starting to develop a huge crush on the killer.
You once again told Ben your problems and he tried his best to help you.
"She probably just feels insecure in herself so she's trying to bring you down to her level." You nodded and happily accepted his advice.
Every time he came over it was like this. You told him your problem and he would try to help you. But after awhile you began to see traces of sadness in Ben. He didn't smile as widely as he used to, his answers were flat and monotone, he started coming around less and less.
It hurt. You missed him. You were honestly planning on telling him how you felt but you were worried he would think you were using him.
He popped out of the TV, interrupting your thoughts.
"Hey [Y/N]." He greeted sadly.
"Hey Ben." You said, concerned for the boy. "What's wrong?" He sighed and adjusted his hat.
"I just...I don't want to worry you with my shit."
Placing a hand on his shoulder, you looked in his eyes.
"Please, it's the least I can do." He thought for minute before sighing.
"Okay, fine. So there's this girl that I like. I really, really like her. She's everything I want and I need and I desperately want to ask her out. Good so far?"
You nodded, feeling that he was talking about you.
"Okay so the problem is that she uses me as a therapist.  I don't even know if she thinks of me as a friend, I mean I like helping her out but I need to just tell her. I-I just..." He trailed off and began again in a whisper. "I fucking love her."
You were silent, totally at a loss for words. He gulped, knowing that you knew who he meant.
"Well..." You began. "I can only imagine that she would say that...I know that I would say that I love you too, and I'm so sorry." He stared at you, drinking in what you said.
"Ben, I-" He launched across the couch to tackle you in a massive bear hug.
"Oh thank god babe I was so nervous."
You laughed and return his hug, only then realizing that Ben had launched you both into a very provocative position.
"Uh...Ben?"
"Yeah babe?"
"Could you maybe, I dunno move off of me?"
He sat up on top of you and smirked evilly. "But babe," he said, taking off his hat. "Maybe I like seeing you like this."
"Get off."
"I'm trying!"
As a slap echoed throughout the room, you felt truly happy for the first time in a long time. For once, you couldn't complain.