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dirtyl0ver · 1 month ago

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Halfway Gone (Jeff the Killer x F!Reader x BEN Drowned)

CW: Sexual content, voyeurism, threesome, emotionally complex/non-monogamous dynamics, jealousy, implied infidelity, light substance use (weed, alcohol), emotional detachment, implied possessiveness/control, post-sex emotional fallout.

Summary: In a room washed in green light and smoke, lines blur. Loyalty, want, attention. No one walks out clean.

Wordcount: 10.6k

Ben's room is a glowing, green-tinged gamer cave that smells faintly of weed, energy drinks, and the lingering warmth of too many long nights spent gaming, smoking, and probably something more filthy than that. The RGB lights are set to pulse green, casting everything in an eerie but strangely cozy glow. Between the haze in the air and the ever-present hum of electronics, time feels like it moves slower here.

Seated in the middle of it all is Ben, eyes focused on the game he is playing. Like a king in his realm, his throne a creaking gaming chair worn from countless hours of domination and defeat, its armrests frayed like battle-worn leather. His fingers move with the instinctive rhythm of someone who’s memorized every click, every combo. A half-empty can of Monster teeters dangerously on the edge of his desk, forgotten but glowing faintly in the green light like some radioactive relic.

The room buzzes, not just with the fans and the whir of his console or PC, but with the charged stillness of obsession. Posters of classic games and obscure anime line the walls, their edges curling from the ever-present heat. The air is thick with the smell of lived-in indulgence - smoke, sweat, the ghost of cheap cologne, and whatever chemical cocktail Monster is made from. It’s the kind of air that clings to skin, to fabric, to memory. It tells you: nothing clean happens here.

Ben doesn’t look up when the door opens, but he knows it’s them. He hears the sharp, lazy cadence of Jeff’s voice, some sarcastic one-liner probably, and the soft shuffle of Y/n’s footsteps behind it, lighter, more deliberate. She walks like she owns whatever room she’s in, and maybe she does.

And then they step inside.

The green light hits her just right, casting long shadows across her bare legs, the tiny shorts doing more harm than help in pretending she’s dressed. The tank top is tight, low, and she’s braless, her nipples poking through a little. And Ben notices, of course he notices, even if his gaze doesn’t shift from the screen. He doesn’t have to look. He’s already built the image of her a thousand times over.

She’d been a part of the group long enough to feel familiar, but not enough to lose the edge. The girls in the mansion were few, and not exactly the kind you wanted to get friendly with. But Y/n? Oh she was different. Pretty, innocent looking, smile so sweet it might just make you melt. Skirts too short, glances too playful. She didn’t chase attention, she owned it. And of course Jeff got his hands on her. He always did. Grinning like he’d won something, like having her melt into his side was a trophy.

She laughs at something Jeff says as they enter, low, breathy, close to his ear, and it pisses Ben off ever so slightly. Not because he doesn’t know what’s going on between them. No, he knows. The knowing is the part that ruins everything.

Jeff strolls in first, smug as ever, that slouchy confidence oozing off him like he invented nonchalance. He drops a plastic bag on the desk, something rattling inside, probably gummies, maybe worse.

“Brought the good shit,” he says, like he's doing Ben a favor just by showing up.

Ben doesn't respond. Not yet.

Y/n follows a few steps behind, and she’s not drifting in like some background extra, no, she’s got intent written all over her. And she goes straight for Ben.

Her hands slip over his shoulders from behind, warm and too familiar, pressing her chest to his back as she leans into him. Her cheek brushes against the side of his head, lips barely a breath away from his skin. She steals the joint from between his lips like she’s done it a hundred times before, because she has, and inhales slow, deep, like she’s claiming the moment for herself.

Ben tilts his head toward her just slightly, and even with the game still running in front of him, the hum of gunfire and synth music in his ears, she’s got all of his attention.

“‘Bout time,” he mutters, low and lazy. There’s a grin playing at his lips, subtle and sharp. “Missed you so bad, babe. Thought you were ghosting me.”

She exhales smoke over his shoulder, lips curling. “Didn’t even text me,” she murmurs, teasing. “Thought you were done with me.”

Jeff lets out a short laugh from Ben’s bed, already sprawled like a king with nothing to prove. “He’s just mad you’ve been spending too many nights in my bed,” he tosses out, tone smug and easy.

Ben doesn’t even turn. Just smiles to himself, takes the joint back from Y/n’s fingers. “Yeah yeah big guy, you keep telling yourself that.”

Y/n giggles, eyes on the screen like she’s interested in whatever game Ben’s playing - she’s not. Not really. Her fingers drift up to the back of his neck, twirling a piece of his hair between them like it’s something to do with her hands, like she doesn’t notice the way it makes him pause, just for a second.

She tugs gently.

Ben doesn’t say anything, just smirks to himself, lets the controller hang a little looser in his grip.

“Still losing, huh?” she teases, tone featherlight, already leaning away, already slipping out of his orbit.

Jeff chuckles from across the room, sprawling out on the bed like he belongs there, like he hasn’t been fucking Y/n in the backseat of his car, or maybe even right here when Ben wasn’t home.

His long spider-like fingers are gripping his phone, scrolling mindlessly as Y/n drops onto the bed beside him. She curls up against him, tucks her legs beneath her, glances at his phone. He’s pretending to turn the phone away from her, hiding whatever he’s looking at, which makes her laugh and she reaches for it anyway, playfully clawing at his wrist, giggling like she’s not already high, like the room isn’t spinning in that soft, slow way it always does here. Jeff lets her have it after a half-hearted struggle, like he meant for her to win the whole time.

“Creep,” she grins, thumbing through his phone now like it’s hers.

Ben just sits there, still in his chair, fingers loose around the controller, the screen in front of him long since abandoned. His character’s dead now, respawned in some corner of the map, blinking dumbly against the pulsing green light like it’s waiting for input that’s never coming.

Jeff grins, teeth sharp and a little too pleased with himself. “You love it,” he shoots back, dragging the blunt from her lips before she finishes exhaling. “Don’t act brand new.”

Ben snorts from across the room, loud enough to cut through the haze. “Jesus, get a room.”

“We did,” Jeff fires back immediately, not missing a beat. He gestures around with a grand sweep of his hand. “You're sitting in it.”

Y/n chokes on her laugh, tossing the phone onto the bed and grabbing the blunt back with two fingers like it’s a game of keep-away.

“Gross,” she mutters, but she’s still smiling as she slides off the bed, landing on the floor with a thud and a soft giggle, like the gravity just gave up on her.

Jeff follows, all limbs and long strides, dropping down beside her in one fluid motion, legs sprawled out in a V-shape. She tucks into his side again like it’s scripted, her spot, no question. His arm drops behind her, lazily thrown across her shoulders like dead weight. His long black hair is shaggy, falling into his eyes just enough to frame the way they shine in the green-tinted dark. Those faded scars on his cheeks are barely noticeable these days. Like ghosts.

Ben doesn’t hesitate this time. He shoves his chair back with a loud scrape against the floor, flops down across from them with a thud of his own. One leg stretched out, the other bent up so he can rest an arm across it, the joint dangling from his fingers.

“Oh great,” he mutters, dry as ash. “Let’s all play floor rats. Real cozy.”

Y/n doesn’t skip a beat. “Okay but wait, you guys missed the best part. Tim tried to give Toby another one of his little ‘I’m in charge’ speeches earlier today.”

Ben hums in half-interest, eyes narrowing just slightly as he watches her talk. Watches the way Jeff’s arm shifts behind her, not in a dramatic way, not some grand gesture, but just enough.

Just enough for his fingers to drift lower, from the curve of her shoulder to the edge of her chest.

She shifts a little closer into Jeff’s side, her bare thigh brushing against his. “He was doing the voice, you know? All serious. Arms crossed. ‘This is about respect, Toby.’”

Jeff snorts softly, but his voice cuts in smoother - gooey, that deep-laced arrogance dripping like syrup. “Mmm, and our boy Toby… how’d he take it, baby?”

He’s casual about it. Ridiculously so. His fingers toy with the hem of her tank top like it’s a habit - tugging gently, brushing the side of her breast through the thin fabric like it’s no big deal. Like they’re just talking about gossip and not casually fooling around three feet in front of someone else. His fingers slowly trace the outline of Y/n's breasts, just barely brushing against her. Then he squeezes gently, feeling her nipples begin to stiffen under the soft fabric.

Y/n doesn’t miss a beat. She keeps talking, animated, voice a little slurred, a little breathy. She doesn’t look down. Doesn’t acknowledge the way Jeff’s hand cups her, slow and easy, thumb dragging in lazy, circular motions like he’s just thinking. Like she’s just there.

“He stuttered so bad trying to talk back, you could hear the wheels turning. And then - swear to Christ - he kicks the chair leg out from under himself and it splits. Like, breaks in half. One of those ugly folding ones, but still.”

Jeff grins wider. “He go down with it?”

“Nah, stayed upright like some kind of angry little possum.” She snickers, fully leaned into him now, her voice dipping as her eyes flutter slightly, stoned and buzzing and pressed up against the guy whose hand is still slowly fondling her like it's just a twitch.

Jeff laughs, warm and breathy against her temple. “He’s gonna combust by the end of the week,” he murmurs, fingers still moving, still toying.

Ben pretends not to watch.

But his eyes flick down every few seconds, drawn to the motion like it’s got gravity.

He lifts the joint to his lips, inhales like he means it, and doesn’t say a damn word about it. Just keeps looking, then pretending not to.

Her nipples are poking through her thin top, the shadows under her breasts deepening as her body responds to Jeff’s touch despite herself. She squirms slightly, her breathing picking up, but she still doesn’t stop him, too far gone to resist.

Of course, Jeff is not one to appreciate a reactionless girl by his side. Oh no. Her babbling away, barely registering his teasing touch except for a little sigh - that’s an insult in Jeff’s world, especially with Ben watching the scene unfold so intently.

So what Jeff does next comes without warning. He shifts slightly, subtle but deliberate, and lets his hand slip beneath the hem of her tank top. Smooth skin and heat under his palm now, where fabric had been a thin buffer. His fingers splay wide against her stomach first - flat and steady, grounding her in place.

Then Jeff’s eyes flick up. And lock with Ben’s.

And oh - it’s bad.

That smug, slow grin widens just enough. It’s not a challenge. It’s not even playful. It’s confirmation.

Yeah. I know you’re watching.

Ben doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look away. Just lifts the joint again and takes another drag, eyes locked across the space between them.

Y/n shifts, catching the shift in the room’s tone, the sudden way the air stills - not heavy, but aware. She doesn’t miss the way Ben’s gaze flicks downward, lingers for a breath too long, and then darts back up with practiced care. Watching without watching.

“Do you mind?” she says, voice laced with fake offense and playful bite, eyes cutting upwards toward Jeff. “Trying to tell a story here.”

Ben exhales smoke slow, leaning back against the mini fridge like a guy who wants to pretend he doesn’t care but always does. “We’re listening,” he mutters, but there’s a glint in his eye - sharp, dry, maybe a little mean.

Ben’s not the biggest guy in the room. Never has been. But what he lacks in bulk, he makes up for in presence. In posture. In the way he sprawls across the floor like the space belongs to him. His tee clings just a little too tight across his biceps, probably one size too small, like a subtle reminder that he’s trying. Blonde hair a mess, falling into his eyes in a way that feels more natural than styled. He doesn’t try to be pretty - he just is. In a kind of messy, boyish way. Pretty when he’s pissed off. Gorgeous when he’s got that stupid smile on.

Jeff’s fingers slow but don’t leave her stomach. He plays it up now - mock-gentle, exaggerated patience. “We’re all ears, baby. Promise.”

But he’s lying. Obviously.

Because a beat later, when she’s talking again, he’s moving again - this time more rough. Pressure behind his touch now, no more lazy tracing. It’s firmer. Bolder. Less about teasing, more about control. Less about getting a reaction, and more about taking one.

Jeff’s hand moves upwards. Slow. Possessive. Like she belongs to him in that moment, and he’s reminding her of it.

Y/n’s voice stumbles mid-sentence, some half-thought about Tim and pool chairs dying on her tongue. She blinks, lashes fluttering. She squirms, just a little, and tries to recover, tries to sit upright like she’s not entirely unraveling under Jeff’s hand.

She can’t.

Because Jeff’s hand is on her tit now, groping with strength. Blunt and rough against the thin lace of her top. His head is dipped low, his warm breath on her neck, his eyes never leaving Ben. Having an audience does something to Jeff, makes him more reckless, wild, aching for any kind of reaction.

The tension in her body betrays her, lit up now from head to toe. The air feels too warm. Too thick. Her limbs too heavy to move, too light to hold still. She squeezes her thighs together, an action that does not go unnoticed by Ben.

Jeff leans in, slow and close. His mouth brushes the shell of her ear as he speaks, so quiet it might as well be just for her, but he doesn’t care if Ben hears. In fact, he wants him to.

“C’mon, babe,” he whispers, smug and low. “You were saying?”

Y/n swallows hard. Tries again. Her lips part, but it’s not a sentence. Not even close. Just a broken breath.

Then, without warning, Jeff moves faster than anyone expected. One sharp tug, almost playful - lifting her top up, those breasts of hers now fully exposed. She is immediately pulled out of that haze of harmless flirtation and into something far more real. The cool air kisses her body, and she makes that sound, that addicting sound, something between a gasp and a moan.

And oh Lord, Ben could have never in a million years prepared for this. His mouth goes dry. He can only stare, eyes wide and breath caught in his throat. He certainly wasn't anticipating this turn of events. The sight before him - Y/n's flushed skin, heaving chest, and Jeff's knowing smirk - sends a jolt of electricity straight to his groin.

She is clearly embarrassed, not expecting Jeff to actually go through with whatever game they had been playing that night. What she thought was mindless flirting, public foreplay - suddenly felt too real, crossing a line into something messier, riskier, way too exposed. But oh, she feels the pooling heat deep in her belly, the one Jeff always brings out. No matter how much he humiliates her, how arrogantly he treats her, he knows exactly how to make her fold and beg for more.

“J-Jeff! What are you-” Her voice stumbles out, half a gasp, half a whisper, more startled than angry. She grabs at his wrist, not to stop him, not really. Not like he’d let her anyway, his grip rock solid on her, not letting her move away from him, not letting her cover herself up.

He ignores her weak protests, smirks widening into a wolfish grin as Ben gapes in astonishment. Jeff cups her breasts roughly, calloused thumbs rubbing slow, teasing circles over the sensitive peaks. "Oh I think you know exactly what I'm doing" he purrs, voice dripping with filthy promise.

She tries to roll her eyes, but it doesn’t land. Her smile has faltered around the edges, her hands suddenly unsure of what to do - one hovering near the hem of her shirt, the other awkwardly brushing her own knee.

She’s too high. Too warm. Too visible. And for a second, she just stares forward, like she’s trying to blink herself back into control. Because she knows they’re not alone.

And that’s when she looks at Ben.

Oh, Lord.

The second their eyes meet, it’s like hitting a wall.

Ben’s no longer pretending. Not even a little.

He’s staring - openly, unapologetically - with something hard behind his eyes. Lust. But also something deeper than that. Possessive. Pissed. Maybe a little hurt. Definitely turned on.

Whatever it is, it’s locked onto her, and it doesn’t move.

Ben takes a deep shaky breath, hand running through his hair, mumbling something about “she didn’t finish her story” but that stupid story is long forgotten, that much is clear.

“C’mon Benny boy, I see how you stare at her. I know what you’re thinking about when she hangs out with us like this, dressed like a little slut, all over us. Yeah? Come on man, I’m right, aren’t I?” Jeff practically spits it out, but he’s smiling, eyes plastered on Ben like he’s actually expecting an answer. Y/n winces at the words, but then she’s licking her lips, squeezing her thighs together, and it clicks in Ben’s head - she’s into this. Jeff is humiliating her, and she’s eating it up.

Ben's eyes dart to Jeff, trying to process what the hell is happening. Y/n's breasts, completely exposed, Jeff's hands fully cupping and kneading the soft flesh. Ben can't tear his gaze away, swallowing hard at the sight. His blood feels hot, skin prickling.

"C'mon Ben, I KNOW you want a taste. Sneaking glances all the time, watching me with her like you're imagining it's you with your hands on her perfect tits instead, huh?"

Ben bristles. Is it that obvious? No, he’s a respectful guy. Slightly too horny, sure, a porn addict, probably. But he had always tried to be a decent person, especially around her. And now she was in the middle of his pigsty, his mess, with Jeff behind her. And her tits were practically staring at him, whispering to him. Oh, this definitely outscores every porno he’s ever seen.

"No. I...I don't..." He shakes his head, trying to clear it. "Dude, what do you want me to say?"

Jeff just laughs at him. Then, his free hand finds Y/n’s jaw and moves her face slightly to the side, his chapped lips meeting hers in a kiss. It’s surprisingly relaxed, soft even. Her eyes are closed, her brows slightly furrowed, her hand flying up to grip his shirt. His eyes are closed too, but they flutter open every once in a while, to look at her, a smug little smile flourishing on his face when he feels how desperately she deepens the kiss, like all is forgiven. Her wet tongue brushes against his lips, begging to enter. He lets her, earning himself a soft moan from her.

When Jeff releases her, clearly too early for her liking, she doesn’t complain. He nods at her once, looking so damn proud of himself as he leans back, eyes dark and half-lidded. “Show Ben how much of a slut you are. Do it baby.”

And that’s all it takes. She stands up, knees a little wobbly, a shaky laugh escaping her at the absurdity of the situation. Ben has barely moved, afraid that one hasty move from him might make the two change their minds and end whatever shitshow they’re pulling. His eyes however, are following every little thing Y/n’s body does. And now, she’s standing up, looking down at him.

Y/n wastes no time in pulling down her shorts. To be fair, they were covering very little to begin with, but now, she’s standing there in just a pair of alarmingly tiny panties. Red little things, with lace, a bow at the front. Her top is still pulled up, those tits bouncing slightly with her every more.

Christ, he's so hard it hurts, and he hasn't even gotten a peek at her backside yet. He wants to fall to his knees on all fours, the weed’s got him so twisted up he can’t tell where the thoughts start and the heat ends. Everything in his head has melted into one long, buzzing pulse. No sharp edges. No logic. Just sensation. He lets out a shaky “Damn”, barely processing Jeff's laugh from behind her.

Ben leans even further into the mini fridge, resting his back against it, desperately trying to look casual, like his head isn’t spinning in all directions. But his eyes never leave her. Or maybe Jeff. It’s hard to tell at this point.

The joint’s long dead, half-sunk into the mouth of a crushed Monster can he had lazily turned into an ashtray hours ago. It’s soggy at the tip, the paper curling in on itself, ash clinging to the rim like it’s been rained on. A few other burnt-out ends are floating in there too, bloated and gray, a graveyard of smokes no one really remembers finishing. Nobody even noticed when it went out. Now it just sits there - stale, gross, and ignored.

Y/n's still standing there, flushed and breathless and clearly riding that chaotic current. Her shorts discarded like they were never meant to exist in the first place, her stance caught somewhere between confidence and faded confusion. She’s looking back at Jeff, not Ben, and somehow that only makes it worse.

“Go on” Jeff tells her, voice so low it brings goosebumps to her bare skin. She shivers at his command, and then she is lowering her body down again, knees first, hitting the floor with a thump. And then, Jesus Christ, she is crawling towards Ben, leaving Jeff to stare at her ass. The sight is incredible - her smooth skin on display, the curve of her back, the sway of her ass as she moves. She's putting on a show for them, and it makes Ben’s cock throb with need.

"Y/n..." Ben rasps out her name, his voice strained. She looks up at him through her lashes, her eyes so dark, pupils blown out, and he nearly comes undone.

She reaches him and settles between his spread thighs, her hands coming to rest on his knees. Slowly, teasingly, she sneaks her hands under his tee and drags them up, up, up until they're resting on his chest, her fingers splaying over his skin. Her smell is intoxicating - vanilla, smoke, that damn hand lotion she always uses, and even a hint of Jeff’s sharp cologne.

"Go on," Jeff says again, and Ben can feel his friend's gaze boring into him, watching every move Y/n makes. It's almost too much, the combination of Jeff's voice and Y/n's touch and the knowledge that they're both waiting to see what he'll do next.

Y/n's hands slide higher, and he gets the hint, practically rips his shirt off and tosses it in some sad forgotten corner of his room. Her thumbs are brushing over his hipbones, dipping teasingly below the waistband of his sweatpants. Ben hisses in a breath, his abs clenching at her touch.

"Please," he grits out, not even sure what he's asking for anymore. More, less, he doesn't know. All he knows is that he needs her, needs this.

Y/n's smile is slow and slightly wicked as she leans in, her hand ghosting over his straining erection. "Tell me what you want," she whispers, her lips brushing over his "Tell me, and I'll give it to you."

She places her lips on his, carefully, testing the territory. His mouth opens way too eagerly, and soon enough, their tongues are dancing over each other and he’s groaning, grabbing the soft flesh of her hips, fingers digging into the curves as he pulls her tightly against him.

His gaze is appreciative, his eyes drinking up every inch of her. "So fucking sexy," he breathes, ducking his head to capture a straining nipple between his lips.

She cries out breathlessly, looking down at him as he suckles and flicks his tongue over the sensitive peak. Liquid heat floods her core, and she desperately needs to feel something, needs friction, pressure, anything. But the second her hand starts creeping down to her cunt for relief, Jeff’s voice rings in her ears like a morning alarm dragging her out of a wet dream.

“Careful there little slut, I didn’t tell you you could touch yourself”. He is sneering, dark eyes never leaving her. She groans, gullible disappointment visible on her face. She is flushed, breathless, but she listens to Jeff, hand falling limply back down to her side.

Ben, blissfully unaware of the interaction, pulls away slightly, a line of saliva the only thing still connecting his mouth with her swollen tits. She smiles at him then, “I’m so wet, you know that right?” and he can only nod stupidly at that question, a boyish grin threatening to break across his face like he doesn’t even realize it’s happening.

He’s too far gone to form words - too high, too flustered, too wrapped up in the way the air feels hot against his skin. His mouth opens like he might say something clever, something cocky, but all that comes out is a breath of a laugh and that grin. Lopsided. Unfiltered. Embarrassing.

And Jeff sees it. Of course he does.

He doesn’t say a word, but the look he throws Ben across the space between them says it all: cute. pathetic. obvious.

Ben doesn't even flinch. Can’t.

He just shrugs like maybe he meant to give himself away.

Y/n taps Ben’s cheek - once, then again. Light, barely there, the way you’d test if someone’s real when you’re too faded to trust your own vision. Her touch leaves a buzz behind it, something small but sharp.

Ben blinks up at her, that boyish grin still hanging stupid on his face. But she doesn’t wait for a reaction.

She stands up and turns.

And just like that, she’s walking back across the room, slow, deliberate steps that feel louder than they should against the low thrum of electronics. Her bare legs catch the pulsing green light, casting long, jagged shadows on the floor. She doesn’t look back. Doesn’t have to. Knows Ben’s eyes are plastered on her ass.

Jeff’s already waiting for her.

He’s repositioned himself, now sitting on the edge of the bed like he owns the room - legs spread wide, arms resting on either side of him, watching her with that same lazy confidence he always wears like armor. Like the whole damn world could bend for him if he just asked nicely.

Y/n steps between his knees without hesitation, fully removing her top and tossing it aside in the process, settling into his space like she’s been there a hundred times before. Jeff doesn’t move. He just looks up at her, slow and smug, one brow raised like a challenge - like now what?

His lean arms wrap around her bare waist, slow and deliberate, fingers locking just above the curve of her hips like he’s claiming space more than holding her. His eyes, though, they’re not on her.

They slide past her shoulder, unhurried and unmistakably pointed, landing right on Ben.

And Jeff doesn’t smile. Not really. Just that little twitch at the corner of his mouth, too knowing, too smug. Like he’s daring him.

Ben’s still on the floor, half-slouched, half-frozen. The air in his lungs feels like static, caught somewhere between a laugh and a punch. He meets Jeff’s gaze, slow and steady, his jaw tight.

It’s Y/n that breaks the silence, voice sticky sweet and needy. “I want you both. Jeff, please, let’s… do it-”

She doesn’t get to finish.

Jeff laughs - a low, throaty bark like he’s been handed the punchline before she’s told the joke. His left hand comes up to her face, firm, fingers pressing her cheeks together as if to quiet her and mock her at the same time.

“Fuck, you’re cute when you’re high,” he says, grinning. Not kind. Not cruel. Just full of himself. “Such a fucking whore, you want two dicks at once huh? No shame, no nothing?”

She lets out a muffled groan, nodding like she’s a starved woman seeing a piece of meat for the first in forever. Her eyes are wide, her hands nearly shaking as she stands between Jeff’s legs.

And then his right hand is sneaking between her thighs, his left hand still on her face, pressing her cheeks together like she’s a toy, and then - “Oh my, you’re soaked baby”. He can barely contain his mocking laugh, his fingers pushing the panties aside to get a better feel of her wetness, and when he pulls back, Ben can see the slickness coating his long fingers.

Ben, still on the floor, makes a sound halfway between a scoff and a cough, maybe a laugh. “Dude,” he says, so overwhelmed by everything that is happening, his dick rubbing so painfully against his boxers he adjusts himself for maybe the tenth time. “This is actually insane”.

But Jeff barely hears him - or maybe he just doesn’t care. His fingers are already tugging at the hem of his own shirt, peeling it up over his head in one smooth, careless motion. The fabric lands somewhere on the bed behind him, forgotten.

His skin is pale under the pulsing green light, all lean muscle and sharp lines. He’s not buff, but he’s cut - the kind of strength you get from too much time in the weight room and too many late-night reps with music turned up and the lights off. The V of his torso is carved deep, leading down toward the waistband of his jeans like it’s meant to be followed.

Y/n’s eyes drop, lazy and obvious. She doesn't hide it. Jeff smirks - of course he smirks. Like he expected it. Like he counted on it.

Ben’s seen Jeff shirtless countless times - working out in the grimy old garage gym, passed out on the couch after a night of too much weed and pills, or just flopped on the floor mid-smash-session, trash-talking between sips of vodka. It’s never meant anything.

But this?

This is different.

Because now, a naked girl, no, not any naked girl - Y/n, is here, between them, looking at Jeff like he hung the stars for her. And then, her hands are on him, and she’s breathing so heavily, revealing so pathetically how bad she wants this, them.

“C’mere Benny, let’s have our fun, since she’s dying for it” a drawl from Jeff, and before Ben’s brain can react, his body is doing the reacting for him, already moving. He pushes himself up from the floor, joints cracking, the soft pop of cartilage lost in the hum of electronics and the low static of their high. His limbs feel heavy but obedient, like gravity’s been rerouted.

He drops into his gaming chair with that familiar creak and groan of worn-in faux leather. It swivels a bit under his weight before settling. He leans back, one knee bouncing restlessly, arms draped across the rests like it’s nothing. The green light pulses across his face, catching on the angles of his jaw, the shadows beneath his eyes. That hazy, high-glazed stare is back.

Y/n turns around to face him, still between Jeff’s legs, sliding down her panties without much effort. They’re absolutely soaked when she throws them at Ben, and they hit him right in the face, which makes her giggle stupidly. He wastes no time taking them, gripping them in his hand and feeling the ridiculous wetness of the fabric. “Fuck, Y/n, you’re…” his voice fails him, and he just chokes on the words that don’t come out of his mouth.

Meanwhile, Jeff is gripping her bare hips, looking almost bored while pushing her down on his lap. She plops down, tits bouncing with that motion, her eyes glued on Ben the whole time. Jeff’s hand grips her thigh and she instinctively spreads her legs, her wet cunt swollen and shiny with slick.

Ben gasps at the sight, and he doesn’t think anymore, one hand still gripping her panties as his other hand finds its way down his sweatpants and into his boxers, pulling them down and freeing his dick. He’s so hard, already dripping with precum, and his thumb runs over the slit, a groan escaping his mouth.

She’s looking at him through half-lidded eyes, having not really expected Ben’s dick to be so thick. It is mesmerizing, seeing him stroke himself to the sight of her and her pussy. She is sitting comfortably in Jeff’s lap, right on his hard-on, and she knows the pressure of her weight on his dick is doing something to him. Still, his attention is on her, or rather, getting a reaction out of her.

She feels two of Jeff’s digits press at her entrance, slipping easily into her. It knocks the breath out of her, and she leans back against his chest, head resting on his shoulder and jaw going slack.

They’ve done this before, her and Jeff, this and much more. He’s been fucking her good ever since she joined the group, shown her no mercy, destroyed her pussy in ways she’s embarrassed to admit. Still, this is a new low, letting Jeff have his way with her in front of somebody. She’s not an idiot, she’s noticed the way Been looks at her - oggles at her tits like she’s one of the pornstars he watches every night before bed, peeks up under her skirts in hopes of seeing her underwear whenever she sits at a convenient angle. She’s also well aware that Jeff loves to brag, and has probably been telling most of the guys in the house about what he does to her.

But now they’re here, on Ben’s bed, with Ben right in front of them. And Jeff is fucking her pussy so good with those long fingers of his, hitting the spot deep inside of her just right. And she’s nearly in tears as he slips a third digit, then a forth, stretching her until her knees are buckling. He’s quick to catch her leg with his free hand, holding it steadily so she can’t close her thighs, and that’s when she feels that familiar heat in her lower belly.

Without warning, a gush of fluid bursts forth from Y/n’s wet cunt, splashing across Jeff’s hand and onto Ben’s floor, forming a small puddle.

Ben has never seen a girl squirt in real life. Y/n's face is contorted in a mixture of pleasure and surprise, her lips parting to let out a breathless moan. "Fuck, Jeff, yes yes-" she pants, her voice dripping with honey as her body rides the waves of ecstasy. The sight of her, wide open like this, unfolding for Jeff, sends a jolt through Ben’s chest like a live wire.

The chair squeaks as Ben shifts forward, slow and aimless, the plastic wheels clicking unevenly across the hardwood. The panties he’d previously held were now forgotten on the floor, his dick swollen and red and resting on his stomach. He nudges himself forward with his socked feet, inch by inch, the friction low enough to make the movement feel lazy… desperate. The kind of slow roll that begged to be ignored, but refused to be.

Jeff’s gaze barely flickers toward him, amused and bored, like he is watching a fly bump against the window. Still in the same position, his hand now resting on her gushing pussy. ”Did you see that Ben?” And Ben can only nod in response, so close to the pair now that his hand comes to rest on her knee. She blinks up at him, a flustered smile sneaking up on her face.

”Mmm… need more, please-” she’s practically begging, her back pressing against Jeff’s bare chest like she wants to melt into him.

”The slut wants more, should we give it to her? What do you say?” Jeff is grinning at Ben, and he can only let out a weak ”Yeah… yeah man” in response before Jeff is pulling down his own pants and boxers, removed in one practiced sweep to reveal his hard veiny cock. He’s hung, of course, and Ben swallows thickly at the sight of his friend, his bro, in this ungodly situation.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, Jeff looks up at Y/n with that lazy, careless grin, and motions for her to hop on his waiting cock. "Come on, don't be shy now." His hand is wrapped loosely around his shaft, giving it a few languid strokes as he looks up at her through his lashes. The very picture of debauchery and sin.

Y/n doesn't hesitate for a second, strutting over and positioning herself above Jeff's lap. Ben watches through hooded eyes as she sinks down onto his cock, taking him to the hilt. Her head tips back on a low moan and Ben's own cock twitches at the sight. He wraps his hand around it and tugs, just a little.

"Fuuuuck," Jeff groans, big hands landing on Y/n's hips to guide her movements. "Such a tight little pussy, you're loving this aren't you? Taking my dick so deep?"

Jeff punctuates his filthy words with a particularly hard thrust and Y/n keens, her nails digging into his arms. She starts to bounce on his dick, tits bouncing wildly. And the whole time her eyes are locked on Ben, staring him down with blatant invitation.

"Look at her man, she wants you." Jeff grunts, hips thrusting up to meet her downward movements. "Come on, don't leave me to do all the work here. Fuck that pretty little face while I split her open."

Ben knows he shouldn't. Every shred of common sense is screaming at him to turn around and walk out that door. But his dick is throbbing, his skin too tight, urging him closer, and he has no choice. Jeff keeps thrusting up into Y/n, pushing her body higher until the head of his cock is nudging her g-spot with every pass and she's making the most delicious desperate noises.

So Ben, still seated in that damn gaming chair, reaches out and grabs her by the face. She meets him for an open-mouthed kiss before he’s pushing her down to meet his dick. And at this point, he’s lost all sense of control, shame, self-respect. Because she’s looking at him like she needs him, like the hunger in her eyes might burn through both of them if he doesn't give in. And Lord help him… he wants to be devoured.

"Y/n, come on baby. Open up for Ben, let him fuck that pretty mouth." Jeff tsks and he doesn’t need to tell her twice before she’s obediently parting her lips, body still bouncing on Jeff's dick.

Y/n moans as soon as her lips are around Ben's cock and he pushes into her mouth, hips canting forward. Jeff continues his relentless pace, thrusting up into her dripping cunt and making her gag on Ben's length. She looks up at him with desperate, lust-hazed eyes as she swallows him down, squeezing around Jeff's cock where it's buried inside her.

"Goddamn, just like that," Jeff groans, one hand finding her clit and rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nub. "Take it all, let him use your throat like the slut you are." And his words send waves of shock straight to her pussy - she’s never felt this filthy, never been this used. But fuck, it feels so good, letting yourself be ripped apart like this.

Ben twists his fingers through her hair, holding her in place as he fucks her face with shallow thrusts. She hollows her cheeks and sucks hard, tongue stroking along the underside of his shaft. Her eyes water but she doesn't resist, letting him do what he wants. Ben is moaning openly and shamelessly, Jeff’s eyes on him long forgotten, “That mouth… mmm, feels so good baby.”

Jeff picks up his pace, hips hammering into her clutching heat. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by Ben's grunts and Y/n's muffled moans. She's so wet, so fucking wet and tight around him. He can feel her starting to flutter and clench. But being the douchebag he is, of course he’s not going to let her cum a second time. Not yet.

So he stops, suddenly, pulling out of her so sharply she whines at the loss, hole gaping and empty. "Ah ah, not so fast," Jeff scolds, setting a sharp slap to her ass. Y/n yelps, trying to twist and reach for him. But Ben is still gripping her hair, holding her in place. "No no, you don't get to cum yet. Not until we say so."

Jeff's voice is a dark, sinful purr as he delivers another spank, watching her jiggling ass cheek bloom red. Y/n is squirming, whiny little sounds slipping past Ben's cock and dribbling down her chin. "Look at you, so desperate for it. Such an eager little cumslut," Jeff growls, fingers digging into the abused flesh of her ass. "You want it so bad don't you? Want to have this needy pussy fucked?"

Ben pulls out of her mouth with a slick sound, his spit-slick cock bobbing against his stomach. Y/n immediately straightens and turns to Jeff with a high-pitched yelp, trying to press back on him. "Please, fuck, please I need it," she begs, too far gone to be ashamed. "Need your dicks, need you to fill me up. Wanna cum, wanna be good for you," she babbles, drool smearing her chin as she tries to impale herself on him.

"Fuck, listen to her," Ben groans, giving his cock a few quick pumps as he watches Jeff tease her. "She's so fucking gone for it dude. I think she'd do anything right now, just to get off." Jeff chuckles darkly at Ben’s bold statement, delivering another stinging slap that has her arching with a sharp cry.

"Is that true, baby girl? You'd do anything for this dick?" Jeff asks, fingers delving between her thighs to tease her slit. Y/n is shaking, thighs quivering with the effort of holding still and not trying to grind against his fingers. "Anything we wanted?"

Y/n can only nod dumbly, and she blames it on the weed, but fuck, it’s not really the weed at all. She’s just high on Jeff, on Ben, on their cocks, on the pulsing sensation deep in her cunt. She’s been torn wide open, exposed in every little way, and she doesn’t care. Just needs to feel them both again.

Jeff stands up, hand flying to her neck, and then he’s harshly pushing her down towards the bed. She lets out a gasp, meeting the mattress face-first, hands and knees colliding with the soft material of Ben’s bedspread. Her ass is up in the air, and Jeff gives it a final smack before glancing at Ben, who’s watching the scene unfold with desperate eyes. He almost looks pathetic, cock in hand, blonde hair all ruffled up, lower lip swollen from the way he was biting it earlier.

"Please, fuck me." she mumbles into the bed, barely audible. Jeff laughs, fingers digging into the meat of her ass. "So fucking eager. But we have a guest, remember?" He looks over at Ben, who's stroking himself with quick, tight twists of his wrist. "Gonna let our boy here have his fun with you. Think you can handle that, princess?"

Ben's eyes darken at the question, and he sits up immediately, takes a step forward. "Fuck, I- yes," he rumbles, shifting behind her.

Jeff grins wolfishly, darkly, at the enthusiasm in Ben’s every move. He smacks him on the back, hard, “Go ahead Benny, show her what you got. You can thank me later.” and in any other situation, Ben would tell Jeff to go fuck himself, to back off. If he weren’t this disgustingly horny, he’d probably react at the sheer fact that another man had touched him as he was stroking his dick. But right now, he was too entangled in - all this. So instead, he just grabs Y/n’s hips and slides his throbbing cock into her.

Heaven. Ben groans at the tight heat engulfing him, hands gripping Y/n's hips tight as he starts thrusting. "Fuck," he grunts, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her ass. She's so tight, so perfect, and he feels a thrill go through him at the small noise she lets out, muffled by the bed.

Jeff’s not the one to sit and roll his thumbs, oh no. He’s already reaching for her head, grabbing a fistful of hair and tugging her up. One knee resting on the edge of the bed, he drags her by her hair until she’s face to face with his cock. "Get to work, sweetheart." He purrs, slapping her lightly across the face. "Put that pretty little mouth to use."

Y/n's breath hitches, but she parts her lips, mouth watering at the sight of Jeff's thick cock. He looks too big, too much, but the hunger in his eyes and the way Ben is already moving inside her, spreading her open on his cock, she wants to, no, needs to taste him. Wants to choke on him until she can't breathe, until he's all she can focus on.

She takes him into her mouth eagerly, tongue swirling around the swollen head of his cock. The salty taste of her own pussy mixed with the bitter taste of pre-cum floods her mouth and she moans around him, the vibrations making him hiss through his teeth.

"That's it. Fuck, just like that." Jeff groans, thumbing at the hollow of her cheek. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you? Taking Benny's dick so well, and sucking me off like you were made for it."

Y/n whines around his length, drool starting to dribble down her chin as Ben picks up the pace, fucking up into her harder. The dual stimulation is driving her crazy, and she can't help but let out desperate little noises, equal parts moans and slurps and gasps for air.

The sight alone makes Ben nearly cum. Y/n, between him and Jeff, knees pressed deep into the mattress, ass up for Ben. Her mouth a drooling, gurling mess around Jeff’s cock, her hands holding onto his thighs for dear life. Jeff’s not exactly being gentle with her, no, face almost smug as he uses her throat as his own personal fucktoy. His pace is brutal, not even letting her up for air. Her throat babbles obscenely around him, spit dripping down her chin, making an absolute mess of her pretty face. Mascara running freely down her cheeks in black streaks, she looks debauched, wrecked, utterly claimed.

Ben knows he isn’t going to last long, feels that all too familiar tingle in his gut, but he’s determined to make her feel good first. He pounds into her ruthlessly with all he has, the wet squelch of his cock driving into her over and over again filling the room, mixing with Jeff's rhythmic grunts.

She whimpers, one hand shooting back to grab ahold of Ben’s arm as he nails her g-spot dead-on. Her walls start to flutter around him and Ben knows she's close too. He pushes down on her lower back, fucking into her harder, deeper. "Fuck, Y/n… You feel so good, so fucking tight. Please- cum on my dick baby" he mutters between pants.

Jeff must hear, because he starts thrusting into Y/n's mouth even harder, if that is even possible, fucking her face mercilessly. She is wailing, nails digging into his leg, leaving long red scratches. Ben grips the soft flesh of her hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"Gonna cum down your throat" Jeff grunts, his rhythm starting to falter. "You better swallow every last fucking drop like the good whore you are. You hear me you little bitch?"

That’s all it takes. Ben feels her tense beneath him, walls clamping down on his cock as Jeff's filthy words push her over the edge. She convulses in their hold, mouth falling open around Jeff's cock as she wails her pleasure, her wetness hitting his balls and running down her thighs, soaking the bed beneath them.

She’s a shaking mess, the muscles in her cunt spasming and clenching around Ben’s cock as she’s riding the incredible wave of her orgasm, and it’s enough to trigger Ben's own orgasm. “Fuck Y/n… I- I’m gonna-”. His vision goes black for a second, and he shoots deep inside her with a guttural moan, filling her with spurt after spurt of his seed.

Ben's legs feel wobbly, he can barely keep himself from collapsing onto her sweat slicked back. He takes a moment to catch his breath, feeling his heartbeat in his throat. He’s covered in sweat, blonde hair sticking to his damp forehead. He’s leaning on her for support, one hand resting on her sore hip, the other coming down to carefully pull out his cock.

Y/n's body trembles with aftershocks, mouth still occupied by Jeff’s achingly big cock. Her pussy clenches down on nothing, trying in vain to keep Ben's load inside her. It's no use though, as soon as his softening cock slips free, his cum starts to leak out of her, slowly trailing down her inner thighs with obscene wetness. Ben reaches down mindlessly, using his thumb to push some of his cum back inside her. A primal, animalistic part of him feels a deep sense of satisfaction at the sight, knowing he marked her, filled her up with his seed like a bitch in heat. He pulls his thumb from her folds, sucking it into his mouth like a kid with a lollipop to clean it of their mixed essence. The salty-sweet taste of her arousal dances on his tongue, making him groan lowly under his breath. "Such a good girl... you took my dick so well baby," He coos breathlessly, petting her hip as if praising a dog, voice still slightly strained. "You’re so pretty like this... Leaking my cum on the bed."

Jeff can barely register any sound in the room, dark eyes focused on Y/n’s pathetic little face, cheeks flushed, chin completely covered in drool, lips red and swollen. His thick shaft is still lodged in her stretched mouth, her throat bulging around his girth. Low groans of pleasure rumble in his chest as he stares down at her tear-stained face. "Goddamn, look at you... choking on my fat dick like a little whore. Bet you wish this was in your other hole, huh, don't you slut?" he sneers, giving her cheek a mocking pat. He pulls out abruptly, letting Y/n gasp for air. A line of saliva connects her lower lip to his cockhead before breaking. "Open up," he commands, fisting his shaft and pumping it in front of her face.

Ben finally removes his hand from Y/n’s hip, takes a deep breath and lets his body collide with the unoccupied side of the bed. He runs a hand through his hair and exhales shakily, the weight of the moment settling in his chest.

His eyes never leave Jeff and Y/n, eyes heavy-lidded and focused on the way Y/n's lips are parted invitingly, cheeks flushed and hollow, tongue peeking out to wet them. Jeff’s hand is tangled in her hair, clearly pulling just hard enough to sting, his lips curled into a snarl of satisfaction as he watches her flinch. It’s evident he lives for that reaction, the sharp breath, the shiver that races through her spine. Ben knows that motherfucker thrives on control, every twitch of her body under his grip is a victory. Still, the sight is so incredibly hot, he can’t even complain. And Jeff, the arrogant bastard he is, looks up for just a moment and meets Ben’s eyes just as he’s slipping his cock back into Y/n’s mouth. And in that brief, electric moment, Ben sees it - the knowing glint in Jeff’s gaze. The taunt.

Ben’s own spent cock gives a valiant little twitch against his thigh, threatening to stir back to life at the display. He painfully resists the urge to touch himself again, not wanting to interrupt Jeff's little power play. Because that's clearly what this is for Jeff - an assertion of dominance over Y/n's helpless, overstimulated body. Each pained noise, each shudder and flinch, is just another mark on his scoreboard. Ben should know by now, he's been Jeff’s friend long enough to recognize all his manipulative tactics. And yet, seeing Jeff work Y/n over like this, seeing her submit so perfectly to his every degrading command...fuck, it's everything.

Jeff is nearing his own orgasm, the tell-tale tightening of his abs and tensing of his thighs giving him away. He yanks Y/n off his cock with an almost violent tug, holding her head back and forcing her to meet his gaze. "Fuck, I'm close," he grunts, stroking himself frantically. "Where do you want it? Beg for it like a good whore."

Y/n whines desperately, attempting to nod her head in his grip. "Please..." she gasps out, voice ragged and raw. "Please, I need it..." Her eyes are wild, pupils blown with lust and need. She tries to lean forward, seeking out his cock, but Jeff keeps her still with a harsh yank on her hair.

"Say you'll do anything for it," Jeff sneers, eyes locked on hers with a cruel, deliberate kind of affection. He tilts her head up further, making her look at him, really look. And then, with no warning, no hesitation, he spits. It lands on her cheek, hot and messy, sliding down slowly toward her mouth. "Beg me to fuck your face and give you my load."

Ben's cock is fully hard again, and he can’t resist it anymore, his own hand going down to stroke languidly along his shaft as he watches the depraved scene unfold before him. The sight of Y/n, so humiliated, so turned on, is driving him crazy. Jeff's the one who looks feral though, a man possessed by his own sadistic urges.

Y/n barely registers the spit on her face, just moans desperately. "Please, fuck my face and feed me your cum. I'll do anything, p-please, just give it to me!"

"That's right, you'll do whatever the fuck I tell you," Jeff snarls in agreement. He fists a hand in Y/n's hair, shoving her forward and sinking into the warmth of her mouth. "I’m gonna ruin your throat, you hear me?"

His rhythm is brutal and punishing, hips thrusting forward at a relentless pace. Y/n gags and sputters around him, drool beginning to leak down her chin once more. The obscene squelch of Jeff's cock forcing its way down her esophagus seems to echo in the otherwise silent room. Jeff just groans above her, absolutely unfazed by her distress.

Ben's stroking his own cock in time with Jeff's thrusts, the slick sounds of flesh on flesh spurring him on. He's so close again, his heavy balls drawing up tight. The sight of Y/n debasing herself for Jeff's pleasure, begging to be used as his personal toy, is almost enough to make him blow on the spot.

"Fuck, gonna cum," Jeff bites out from between clenched teeth. One hand stays tangled in Y/n's hair while the other reaches down to roughly fondle and twist her nipple, looking for that extra bit of pain to push her over the edge. Y/n just whimpers around his cock, submitting to his every cruel touch.

Ben's panting harshly now, his stroking growing erratic. He can feel his orgasm barreling down on him, no way to halt its approach. Jeff's the one to finally tip him over, with the way he's viciously snarling, "Swallow it all like a good cumslut," before slamming into Y/n's mouth and grinding against her face with a choked moan. The first spurt of his release paints the inside of her throat, and Jeff just holds her in place, making sure she has to swallow every last drop around his still-pulsing cock.

Seeing that, feeling Jeff's triumph and satisfaction as Y/n chokes and gurgles around his softening dick, it's enough to send Ben hurtling over the edge himself. He spills into his clenched fist with a low groan, shuddering through the aftershocks. The whole room is filled with the sounds of their labored breathing for a hushed moment, the only other noise the wet slide of Jeff's cock as he lazily withdraws from her warm, wet mouth.

It's utterly filthy and debasing and wrong... but fuck if it wasn't perfect. Ben knows he'll be replaying this moment in his head for weeks to come, stroking himself to the memory of Y/n unfolding herself so perfectly for Jeff's pleasure, and his own. What a fucked up situation they've found themselves in.

The green light has dimmed to something lazier now, slow pulses like a heartbeat, low and steady. The haze hasn’t cleared, not even a little. The room is a mess of clothes, heat, and breath. The game screen has long gone idle, background music looping like an afterthought in Ben’s headset.

Jeff is the first to move.

No rush, no shame - just that usual looseness to his body, that smug calm of a guy who thinks the world moves for him. He stands tall, bones cracking a little as he stretches, then bends to pull his jeans off the floor like this is all just routine. Like the last hour didn’t just scramble the dynamic between all three of them into something strange and raw.

He buttons up with practiced ease, already halfway out of the moment even as his skin still glows with it. His hair’s a mess. There’s a scratch across his collarbone, faint but fresh. He runs a hand through his hair, lets it fall into his face again.

Then, without looking, he leans in and gives Y/n a quick kiss on the mouth.

Just a peck. Casual. Not romantic, not possessive. Like punctuation.

Then he glances over at Ben, not to say anything meaningful, just to deliver that little smirk of his, crooked and infuriating. The one that says yeah, that happened. Like it's no big deal.

“You two play nice,” he mutters, and then he’s moving. Out of the room, out of the haze, out of the moment like it never mattered. His pack of cigarettes still on the floor, but he doesn’t take it. Just leaves it there, like he’ll be back later.

The door clicks softly behind him.

Silence.

Ben’s still on the bed, breathing a little heavier than he wants to admit. His hair’s stuck to his forehead, lips slightly parted. There’s a flush to his cheeks that’s too pink, too raw. His clothes are scrambled all over the floor, forgotten. He uses the bedspread to wipe himself clean, and to cover himself up, simultaneously.

He looks over at Y/n.

She hasn’t moved yet. Still curled on the edge of the bed where she ended up, arms drawn in tight around her naked body. In the warm blur of afterglow, she looks unreal - skin glowing, chest rising slow and steady, every curve gilded by the dim green light. Ben can’t look away. She’d always been beautiful, but now? Now she is something else entirely. There’s a dazed look to her face - slightly dreamy, definitely satisfied. But also something heavier. Clouded.

Ben clears his throat, awkwardly. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t even know what this is now. But he tries anyway, voice rough around the edges.

“Well... that escalated.”

It's a joke. Sort of. The kind you throw out like a lifeline.

Y/n doesn’t laugh.

She doesn’t even look at him.

Instead, she reaches for her damp panties, pulling them up with a quiet tug. Then her shorts, and lastly, that damn tank top. Her hands shake just a little, but she doesn’t fumble. She’s too good at this, too practiced at slipping out of something without acknowledging what it meant.

She stands slowly, tugs her tank top straight.

Ben watches her, still half-covered by the bedspread, still a little high, still completely out of his depth.

“Y/n-” he starts.

She cuts him off with a quiet breath, “Don’t.”

So he swallows whatever it was he was about to say. Lets it burn in the back of his throat.

She scratches the back of her neck, slow and absent, then wipes her palms on her thighs like she’s trying to come back into her body. Like she’s resetting herself. Like she’s wrapping the whole thing in plastic and shoving it into the back of her mind. Then she finally looks at him. “I’m gonna go clean up.”

Ben nods. Doesn’t move. Definitely doesn’t try to stop her.

She moves to the door without another word, hair a mess, the sex-dazed flush still clinging to her like static. Ben watches her go, chest tight, limbs heavy, skin still buzzing from everything and nothing.

But just before she reaches the handle, she pauses.

Turns.

Walks back to him.

He straightens slightly, caught off guard, heart stumbling in his chest like it might say something before he does.

She leans in slowly, carefully, and presses a kiss to his cheek. Not rushed, not playful. Gentle. It lingers.

Her lips are warm.

Then she pulls back without a word, her eyes unreadable in the pulsing green light, and leaves.

The door shuts behind her, quiet as a breath.

And Ben stays there, cheek still warm, breath still shallow, wondering what the hell any of it meant - and why that one soft kiss might've fucked him up more than everything that came before it.

#Jeff the killer x reader #ben drowned x reader #Jeff the killer #jeffrey woods #jeffrey woods x reader #ben drowned #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #smut #x reader

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