creepypasta x reader

18. the night after

( a/n: first off, apologies for my absence !! school is a pain aha. anddd im sorry for not doing every character for the comforting series ;; im tired of writing that sob story over and over, i just wanna get on w the plot! i'll make it up to you somehow c": )

( 3rd person's pov )
As warm beams of sunlight from the window danced across (y/n)'s mascara-smeared face, she slowly pulled herself out of a deep sleep. Crying like that had left her exhausted and sluggish.

(y/n) sat up in (character)'s bed and looked around lazily, finding herself to be in (f/c) pajamas and fluffy socks. She traced her fingertips over her knees, shins, ankles, feeling all of the bruises lurking beneath the (f/c) pajama pants.

(y/n) cringed and stood, ignoring the hazy feeling in her head, and began her descent downstairs as usual.

When she arrived, the first to notice was Slenderman. He looked at her curiously and adjusted the bowl of pancake batter in his arms as to not drop it.
"Good morning, my child. How are you feeling?" he asked, sounding sympathetic and maybe even worried.

(y/n) shrugged, averting her eyes from his blank face. Thinking about last night made her skin crawl and stomach flip, so obviously she didn't want to talk about it to anyone more than she had already last night.
"Fine, I guess," she shrugged again.

( y/n's pov )
Rocks in my throat, fog in my head, butterflies in my stomach. After last night, I felt exposed. Vulnerable. Cut open and left to bleed for everyone to see.

If I freaked out over being groped by a random dude, how could I survive being a killer like they all wanted-- and needed --me to be?

Slender reached out and set a tendril on my shoulder gently, reminding me of something a father would do. I suddenly remembered his ability to read minds.
"If you need something, feel free to ask. The boys and girls have been waiting for you to wake; they're all just sitting in awkward silence. Go and say hello."

I felt a sick feeling fill my stomach, the butterflies flapping harder, trying to get out and fly away. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded. I can do this. I can, I can, I can. I can.

I walked into the dining room cautiously. Slender was right; no one was talking. Jane, Nina, and Clocky looked hungover, but everyone else looked kind of blank. I watched as everyone's head snapped up to look at me.

Jeff stood up quickly, smashing his legs against the underside of the table, and began to cuss. BEN shot him a dirty look while the other's exchanged amused glances or laughed. Helen smiled softly at me and patted the seat next to him. I sat down and folded my hands in my lap.
"How're you feeling, (y/n)?" Helen asked quietly, rubbing the small of my back in circles with his hand.

I sighed and leaned down on my arms, folded on the table.
"Fine," I mumbled, looking up at Puppet who sat across from me. He grinned mischievously and winked, mimicking my pose and laying his head on crossed arms.

"Are you sure?" Masky asked, mask pushed up to expose his mouth. It looked silly, just a normal mouth with a blank white face.

"I could make you breakfast," Helen chimed in.

I shook my head and let my eyelids droop. I'm still sleepy, but I feel like if I tried to go back to sleep, I wouldn't be able to. God, why do these murderers have to be so nice? Aren't murderers supposed to be heartless and rude? If anything, these guys are the exact opposite.

"No, I'm fine. Just tired... Thanks though," I say. Helen nods and Masky just shrugs.

BEN smiles softly, such a different smile than his usual smile that I almost do a double take. "(y/n), are you going to feel up to training today? Hoodie seemed disappointed that you couldn't train together last night."