creepynoodleboys

[creepynoodleboys]

Man I come in and out of the fandom so much every time I turn around there's something new going on.

Stop reblogging shit about Ticci Toby. Why can't you ppl respect his creator and let that shit die already? This is why nobody can stand this toxic fucking trash heap of a fandom.

say it off anon now

#rb #lol like? #what happened? #last i heard the creator just updated the guy

[creepynoodleboys]

I'm obsessed with this art style

Way back to hell - Prologue Pages

Thought I'd upload the prologue pages here to give new readers a sneak peak! :) Webtoon Link

#rb #jeff the killer #creepypasta #jeffrey woods #homicidal liu #eyeless jack

[creepynoodleboys]

The absolute excitement I had when I learned that there was more of this! God this is awesome!

We Get One Step Closer Each Day

Yautja x Female S/O

Warnings: None

Not much to say other than Meesa isn’t a subtle wingman in the least and the reader is painfully oblivious despite the glaring signs of interest from a particular someone. Pray for these hopeless idiots, lol.

Series Masterlist

And, if any of you are interested in throwing me a tip, why not buy me a coffee?

Taglist: @strawberry-moonpies, @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better, @stoutehoekie, @sophiaj650

You found yourself once again tempted to ask Meesa if it would be considered rude to sit with the clan for one meal a day as your gaze slid over to the sizable length of table that the Predators occupied for the umpteenth time since you sat down to eat lunch, picking at your sandwich as you watched the hulking aliens interact with one another.

Surely Butcher wouldn’t mind your presence?

After spending so much of your free time with him and Meesa, you had on good authority that you might be something like a friend to the clan leader despite your malfunctioning lungs. In fact, Butcher had never once come across as professionally polite when you spent time together, as he often did with others on the ship. Also, he had yet to signal that he wanted you to leave him alone or get annoyed with you when the two of you happened to cross paths during the day and you started talking to him about something or another.

The amicable behavior was odd considering you were a weakling by their species' unreachable standards, but you weren’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

And then, as if feeling your gaze like a physical weight, Meesa twisted in his seat to scan the mess hall for the source of the feeling of being watched. During which, you briefly considered turning your attention elsewhere before he caught you staring at their table longingly like some kind of neglected child begging their disinterested parent for attention, but decided against it at the last minute because this was the perfect opportunity to see if Meesa might extend an invitation to sit with them to you.

Still, you startled a bit when your eyes met, and Messa tilted his head in a wordless question that you answered with a casual shrug. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem to buy it, his assessing gaze boring into you until something seemed to click in his head and he suddenly perked up. Then he aimed a toothy smile and a beckoning hand your way, and like hell you were gonna turn down the wordless request to join him, so you grabbed your tray and eagerly pushed to your feet.

“Wait, where are you going?” Andrew blurted and you paused, glancing back at him from over your shoulder. He looked not unlike a confused puppy with his head tipped to the side like that, his heaping forkful of pasta hovering just in front of his mouth as if he had been about to take a bite before you distracted him.

“Over there.” You casually waved a hand in the general direction of the Yautja, who were preoccupied with devouring their meal with all the gusto and cleanliness of overeager toddlers.

“Really? You’re fearless.” Ian hummed, head tilted thoughtfully as he reached for his umpteenth cup of steaming black coffee. “Or stupid. Who knows?” He shrugged, indifferent to your usual antics. However, he grunted a colorful curse into his mug of glorified sludge when you petulantly kicked his shin under the table.

“You’re gonna sit with the Predators?” Bailey looked up from her enormous pile of lime jello, brows raising in disbelief as she nervously glanced at the table of hunters. She was still cautious around the clan as a whole, but you had noticed that she got along just fine with the three Predators that had let her take samples from them a few days ago. It seemed like having a large group of them near her was the source of her unease, which was understandable because of the Yautja horror stories that Ian’s fellow guards were spreading like wildfire.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged, brows furrowed at the disbelieving stares you got from Andrew and Bailey. Although Ian looked like he couldn’t really be bothered to talk you out of joining the Predators, which was great because when Ian did feel like putting up an actual fight -verbal or otherwise- he almost always won.

“First of all, they’re eating raw meat.” Bailey pointed out with a shudder, mouth twisted into an unhappy line, and Ian made a soothing noise as he awkwardly patted her knee. Clearly the guy had grown up as a big brother back home and it definitely showed, especially when it came to Bailey seeing as she was the youngest in your friend group.

“I’m not squeamish.” You assured, which seemed to assuage Bailey’s worries a little, the girl nodding as she briefly turned her attention to her fruit cup. She made a face at the cubed pear and peeled grapes before spearing a bit of peach instead, her mood brightening significantly when Ian quietly offered to eat whatever was left when she was done picking through it so she didn’t feel guilty about wasting food.

“Unless it comes to deep sea creatures, at least.” Andrew quipped, drawing your undivided focus away from the rare treat that was Ian being a total softy.

“Shut up, I’m allowed to hate on those ugly as fuck nightmare-inducing abominations.” You retorted, brandishing a finger at him, narrowed eyes all but daring him to oppose you on the subject. Fortunately, Andrew seemed to have discovered the concept of self-preservation after the ‘special treatment’ incident because he wisely kept his big mouth shut.

“Secondly, they don’t like us humans.” Bailey tentatively piped in, having finished her task of fishing out the peaches and cherries from the cup, which was now in Ian’s hand as he shoveled the rest of the fruit into his maw before washing it down with the last of his coffee with a grimace that you seconded because that was obviously a disgusting flavor combination.

“That’s not quite right. They just think that the majority of our species consists of weaklings.” You dutifully corrected with a sagely air, your wisdom going unappreciated when Andrew decided to be, well, Andrew.

“Wow, thanks for clearing that up. I feel so much better now.” He deadpanned, profoundly unimpressed with your extensive knowledge on Yautja culture, which was just utterly ungrateful of him considering that it was your tireless questions for both Butcher and Meesa that made it possible for you to educate everyone on your team about how to decidedly not gravely insult their guests.

“You’re welcome. See you guys later.” You flapped a dismissive hand at Andrew as you turned away, just barely catching the way that the man wrinkled his nose at you before his figure left your line of sight, prompting you to return the favor by subtly aiming your middle finger at him as you walked away.

“Hello Miss.” Meesa greeted you warmly once you were near enough to the Predator’s table to hear him, the feline shifting over a seat so you could settle into the offered space between Meesa and Butcher.

“Hey Meesa, is Butcher okay with me sitting with you guys?” You asked, fixing your hopeful gaze onto Butcher, who clicked and trilled in a melodic fashion that was actually quite pleasing to the ears.

“He doesn't mind.” Meesa hummed, abandoning his half-eaten meal in favor of twisting to face you. The shift in posture was a subtle hint that he was looking to chat with you, which was great because you weren’t all that inclined to focus on eating either, not when you had been looking forward to your next opportunity to spend time with Meesa and Butcher seeing as the three of you were usually busy.

“Awesome, thanks.” You chirped, contorting to look at Butcher, who was already watching you with an adorable tilt of his head, those lovely ombré dreads of his spilling over his shoulder.

“You’re always welcome here, Miss.” Meesa murmured, expression earnest and fond in equal measure. The unexpected declaration hit like a gut punch, your chest tightening with a familiar yet completely foreign emotion that you weren't quite ready to acknowledge yet.

“Hey Butcher, could I ask you a few questions?” You inquired, steering the topic into safer territory, which didn’t go unnoticed if the way that Meesa shifted closer to press his thigh against yours in a comforting and oddly knowing gesture was any indication.

“He said yes, but he reserves the right to refuse to answer any question he finds inappropriate or invasive.” Meesa diligently translated Butcher’s garbled reply, the both of them proceeding to stare at you in an attentive manner that indicated that they were patiently waiting for your questions.

“That’s fair.” You concurred, rocking back in your seat as you considered what to ask first, perking up when you suddenly recalled a rumor you had overheard when the lab guards rotated shifts the other day.  “So, I’ve heard that Yautja can speak english. Is that true?”

“Yes, in a sense. It’s more the biomask that speaks. Like a text-to-speech program.” Meesa haltingly explained, gaze flicking to Butcher a few times as he spoke, as if to confirm that he was allowed to talk about their technology.

“So the biomask records snippets of English and repeats it back when Butcher strings together a sentence?” You pressed and Meesa chuckled at your overwhelming enthusiasm, nodding.

“Precisely.”

“That’s amazing. But why have you act as a translator if he can speak for himself?” You asked, brows furrowing as you turned to Butcher expectantly, the Predator studying your perplexed face for a moment before reaching down to retrieve his biomask from his hip and secure it over his face.

“Many are intimidated by voice I have chosen, malen'kiy myslitel. I also prefer to only wear biomask during combat. I leave it magnetized to my belt if I am not fighting.” Butcher’s voice was somehow both distinctly human and distinctly not, the miniscule part of your brain that wasn’t preoccupied with screaming about his unexpected accent recognizing the undertone of robotic stiffness in his response.

“Is that… a Russian accent? You have a Russian accent?” You were floored by the revelation, blinking up at Butcher’s expressionless mask with wide eyes.

“Da.” Butcher grunted before he seemed to catch and correct himself. “Yes.”

“His first hunt on earth was in Russia. He saw the unideal and hazardous winter climate as a challenge.” Meesa seemed awfully amused by your reaction, watching you with an affectionate intensity that flustered you a little.

“Of course he did, I’m not surprised. But why keep the Russian accent? I’m sure that you’ve been on plenty of hunts on Earth since then.” You wondered aloud, bracing your elbow on the tabletop so you could rest your chin on the palm of your hand, fingers curling up over your cheek.

“I look back on first hunt with pride. I brought much honor to my tribe, returned to mothership with many trophies.” Butcher divulged, his hand raising to his dreads to thumb an intricately laced leather chain of what looked suspiciously similar to human teeth, which was a little disturbing but not really all that alarming considering that their hunters code would have ensured that the fight had been won fairly.

“So it’s an honor thing. Got it.” You hummed, nodding along.

“I have a question, Miss.” Meesa unceremoniously cut in, delicately tapping your shoulder with the pad of his finger, mindful of his claws.

“Go ahead.” You encouraged, politely twisting in order to properly chat with the feline without having to awkwardly look over your shoulder.

“What are you eating? Those red things smell good.” Meesa pointed at your tray, drawing your gaze down to the item in question, and your brows rose when you spotted what exactly he was so intrigued by.

“The strawberries?” You prompted, picking one up and noting how Meesa’s eyes followed the fruit.

“Strawberries…” Meesa parroted slowly, as if he were getting a feel for the word. “Yes, those strawberries.” He agreed fervently, scooting closer to you and leaning in to audibly sniff at the fruit as he scrutinized it with narrowed eyes.

“Wanna try one? Here.” You extended your arm to offer the strawberry to him and Meesa’s keen, unblinking stare suddenly shifted away from the fruit in favor of fixing you with an oddly childish look of surprise that was quick to morph into equally childish delight.

“Thank you, Miss.” Meesa murmured reverently -as if you were bestowing some kind of award to him instead of a mere fruit- as he carefully plucked the strawberry from your fingers, popping the entire thing into his mouth without a moment of hesitation. “Mhn, they’re sweet. Delicious.” He praised, all four of his hands flexing happily in a rhythmic movement that reminded you of a kneading cat.

“They're pretty good, huh? Especially if they’re ripe.” You snorted, passing him another strawberry because you couldn’t help but give in to the urge to elicit that strange and endearing kneading motion again because it filled you with such tenderness that your chest nearly cracked under the pressure.

“Would you like to try my meal? It’s cooked.” Meesa pushed his own tray toward you with a blinding smile, pointedly nodding at what remained of the grilled hunk of purple meat.

“Oh, well… sure. If you’re offering. What is it?” You hooked a finger into the edge of the feline’s tray and pulled it closer, curiously examining the unidentified slab of protein.

“A temperamental reptile from Elnoliv known as a Wronin. They are around twenty feet long when they are full grown and are quite territorial.” Meesa excitedly described the creature, gesticulating in wide sweeps of his arms to help create a clear picture of the beasts. “They have nasty spines running down their back from head to tail that hold a paralytic agent that can cause fatal organ failure in a full grown human in under five minutes.”

“I hope the Wronin’s meat tastes as impressive as its reputation sounds.” You glanced down at the meat with newfound admiration, frowning when you realized that there was no silverware around for you to use, which made sense considering that Meesa and the Predators had those sharp claws to tear their meat into bite-sized pieces. Unfortunately, you didn’t have this hardware.

“They are formidable prey.” Butcher allowed, one of his hands engulfing your shoulder to guide you into scooting back some so he could lean into the space provided without his considerable bulk crushing you, using his other hand to effortlessly tear a moderately sized piece of meat off and present it to you.

When you accepted it, Butcher settled back in his seat, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a few seconds longer as you tossed the bite into your mouth before the appendage moved up to his dreads to grab something and unwind it from the various other knick-knacks, lowering his fist and uncurling his fingers to reveal a large black tooth.

“Whoa, is that a Wronin’s tooth? It's huge!” You nearly choked with how fast you swallowed, coughing into your arm. When the fit tapered off after a few seconds, you harshly cleared your throat and reached for the trinket before you remembered your manners, pausing to look to Butcher for permission, which he swiftly granted with a slight incline of his head.

“Butcher personally killed this one -he kept its skull as a trophy, of course- but it was twenty three feet long and it only took Butcher a day to track and kill it by snapping its neck.” Meesa smugly recounted while you cautiously poked and prodded at the tooth, happily snatching it out of his hand when Butcher raised his open palm up a little further in order to coax you into taking it.

“That’s incredible, I can’t believe you got close enough to kill it with your bare hands. You, my friend, are one scary guy.” You said absently, preoccupied with inspecting the tooth, pressing your finger against the tip to test its sharpness. However, your attention was quickly diverted to Meesa when the feline made a despairing noise.

“Scary? You find him frightening?” Meesa looked utterly stricken, his owlish gaze darting to Butcher, who had suddenly gone awfully still.

“What? No. I meant that I wouldn’t want to fight him, is all.” You clarified and the tension that you hadn’t even noticed until it was suddenly absent broke all at once, Meesa heaving what sounded like a relieved sigh before a thoughtful look crossed his face.

“So you are acknowledging his strength in combat then?” Meesa prodded, helpfully ripping off another piece of meat when he noticed that you were eyeing it, depositing the morsel into your eager hand.

“I suppose I am, yeah.” You mused, haphazardly throwing your arm behind you to pat Butcher’s massive thigh, which flexed under your hand. The skin seemed to exude heat like a furnace and it was textured, like scales but different. You thoughtlessly ran your hand down to the metal guard on his knee before letting your touch slide off and away from Butcher’s person, hand returning to your lap while the other continued to absentmindedly fiddle with the tooth.

#rb #yautja #predator #yautja oc #butcher x reader #yautja x reader #notcreepypasta

[creepynoodleboys]

CW// blood

♡

♡

♡

♡

happy valentine's day :3 !!

he ate my heart :(

#rb #fuck this is good shit #eyeless jack #art rb

[creepynoodleboys]

Brekfemst

#rb #not my art #thomas hewitt #rz michael myers #notcreepypasta #slashers

[creepynoodleboys]

*drops this and runs away*

#hope you dont mind the mild spam lol #rb #eyelessjack

[creepynoodleboys]

ej's big ol pecs

I agree 📸

#rb #tibby #creepypasta #eyeless jack

[creepynoodleboys]

Daily Doodle 231! Some shirtless EJ for the soul why not

#rb #ajalnabdlabdlabdl #eyelessjack #i love him ok

[creepynoodleboys]

I'm obsessed with how you draw eyeless jack! So cool!

Daily Doodle 129! Theme: hey we haven’t seen EJ in a hot minute

EJ still spends a great deal of his time within the forest of the Operator, but most of it is spent in and around his cabin, renovating and such. Before Toby really shut himself off emotionally and Rouge was too worn down to help, the three would sometimes meet up for a break, and EJ would bring food. It was nice, because it fostered a support system where the two proxies could continue relying on EJ even though he was no longer on duty. It’s a surprise that he was allowed to stay and neither of them were ready to let him go.

Of course EJ also spends a good portion of his time outside the forest, and since time works differently between Earth and His Forest, sometimes he would be gone days, even weeks for an errand.

Eventually the two stopped looking for him.

#rb #creepypasta #eyeless jack

[creepynoodleboys]

€¥€

#they are here #creepypasta

[creepynoodleboys]

Can you see them to?

#they are here #creepypasta #video

[creepynoodleboys]

This blog is barley used but I had to reblog this. Holy shit I fucking love it!

Would you be down to write some eyeless jack smut, like, the eldritch-y body horror stuff? If no, then instead could you do some xenomorph smut? Keep up the awesome work!!!!

//this creature eats ass, sexual frustration, and liver; this is less smut and more just a chance for me to experiment with other types of emotions?? i guess idk how to describe it but i wanted to give a different experience//

It feels like a dream the way the dark eyed creature leers over you, hungrily sniffing at your throat, knees and hands pressing deep into your mattress from their weight. It feels like a dream so it must be. You've had many dreams that felt real, dreams where you could practically taste and touch the reality of it, so this is no different. The creatures in your nightmares aren't usually so detailed.

You can practically see the scuff marks across that blue mask. Or perhaps it's a face. You have a hard time keeping your eyes on it long enough to tell, looking away so you don't have the chance to glimpse what's in those pitch black sockets. Something tells you to look and see would be your undoing. Other than darting your eyes back and forth, you remain still. In this dream state you're paralyzed; your body doesn't respond when you desperately try to turn or raise your hands. But this, you reason, is no different than a regular dream. Many times you have tried to run or punch in your dreams, only to move weak and sluggish.

The bruising grip the creature uses also feels real, shadow fingers pressing into the soft skin of your thighs until it burns. You think, for a second, that should be enough to wake you, but you're so immersed in the reality of the dream. It's always been painfully hard for you to wake up. This is no different.

Below your field of view parts of this creature move, but it's hands and knees remains locked in place around you. Dread fills your chest as you realize that this body is much less human-like than you originally thought, finally noticing parts of it's 'face' don't align correctly, and the places it's moving seem to be... shifting. This is all just a dream and it can't hurt you. There's no reason to be afraid.

When it shifts aside your pajama shorts, you figure you'll wake up soon. Surely no dream could drag on so long. Whatever this creature is presses inside you without moving or jerking it's body forward at all, some 'part' of it inside you searching for something. At least that's how it feels. It doesnt thrust or grind into you, it prods around like a seeking appendage. Unfortunately, it stirs an uncomfortable sort of pleasure in you. It's horrifying to think what this means about the sexual turn your nightmares have taken.

The longer this creature spends inside you the more sweat beads along your brow, makes your shirt stick to your back, as it wrenches forth an orgasm you are reluctant to give. Even as you will your body to twist or move or do something, all you can offer is a small gasp as something close to relief floods your body. But it hardly puts you at ease.

You don't know how much longer the creature spends looming over you, peering down at you this way and that. You looked away for a second, not wanting to watch that creature watching you, but somewhere in between you must have slipped into another dream. You must have. That's the only explanation. It's hard to remember, though.

When you wake up, shirt still sticking to your damp skin, you ignore the bruises on your thighs. Life is much easier that way...

#rb #eyeless jack #dubcon #eyeless jack x reader

[creepynoodleboys]

I just got back into the fandom lol.

IF YOU'RE A CREEPYPASTA BLOG PLEASE REBLOG THIS

#rb

[creepynoodleboys]

Who I write/Rules

Charecters: Ages I think they are:

Masky/ Tim Wright.: 25

Hoodie/ Brain Thomas.: 26

Ticci Toby/ Tobias Rogers.: 20

Jeff the Killer/ Jeffery Wood's.: 23

Eyeless Jack/ Jack Nichols.: 26... IT: Unknown.

Slenderman: Unknown.

Sally Williams: 8

Ben Drowned/Ben Lawmen.: 12

Jane the Killer/ Jane Arkansaw.: 24

(More to be added as I go along/Remember.)

Rules:

Under no conditions will I write smut or anything of that like with Sally or Ben. I will not even allude to it or anything of the like. They are children as far as I remember. I will write for them but their will be no romance.

I will write smut though. Although my style of writing doesn't always allow for explicit smut if requested I will do my best.

If you are a minor dear God do not request anything smutty or interact with anything smutty on here. You can request works but if I find out you are a minor and request anything with smut or interact I will block you.

Please feel free to request anytime! I'm not very active on my blogs because I'll spend time on one and sort of bounce around. But if a request comes in and it's within my capabilities I will write it.

When you do request all I ask is that you give me the idea you want. Whether or not you want a Male, Female, or gender neutral reader. What charecter or charecters (Only two at a time) and whether or not you want to be tagged! It takes me four days to fill out one request. Planning. Rough draft. Final. Edits. I will let you know if it will take longer.

I will take up to four at a time then close the ask box. I will open it back up when I am done.

Head cannons can have up to three people at a time. Feel free to send in the same head cannon and three more charecters if you wish.

I will not write: DDLG. Daddy/mommy kinks. If you send me in a kink of some sort I will let you know whether or not I will write it. These two are just definitely hard nopes for me. I have no probs with those who do like this it just ain't my cup of tea.

(more to be added on as needed.)

Ask Box: Open

Open

Open

Open

Open

[creepynoodleboys]

Head cannons

If you fell asleep against them.

Masky:

Wouldn't care to much honestly.

Would just leave you there until you woke up or if he needed to get up and leave.

Might cover you up with a jacket or blanket if you get cold.

Hopefully you don't mind cigarette smoke cus he's smoking no matter what. Unless your asthmatic.

Let's you sleep though. In this line of work you need all the rest you can get. One of the few who wouldn't mess with you while you slept.

Would also keep the others from waking you up.

Hoodie:

Depending on his mood he's gonna do one of two things.

Let you sleep.

Or pick you up and dump you in your bed.

But either way he's gonna let you sleep.

Might ask why your so tired afterwards and tell why it's bad to get sleep deprived and overwork yourself.

He's a hypocrite.

If he's feeling particularly sentimental and/or nostalgic of a past life, he'll draw you in close.

A strong arm around you waist, your shoulders. Holding you close to his body.

Draw you up to his chest. Letting your head rest over his heart. Plays with your hair.

He's feeling soft in this moment. Cherish it. They are few and far between for him.

Eyeless Jack:

He's going to let you sleep.

Worried that you trust him enough to be able to fall asleep in his presence.

He could hurt you.

Tear you apart.

Defile you.

Yet here you are. Curled up on his lap. Head on his chest. A handful of his shirt.

His hand shakes as it makes it's way to your hair. Running calloused bringers through the soft strands.

Everything is screaming at him to hurt you. To get rid of you. His trust far to difficult to earn.

Don't worry. He won't harm you. Despite IT begging him to. Pleading with him to get rid of you. So IT can protect him Incase SHE happens once more.

He's trying. Ok.

#creepypasta x reader #eyeless jack x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #creepypasta head cannons

[creepynoodleboys]

Like blooming flowers.

Pairing:

Characters: Jeff The Killer

Reader type: Gender neutral

Song: In the dark of my room-ICP

Warnings: Stalking. Suggested non-con.(kinda sorta? Tagging it as this anyways.)

An: Ye

Their room smelled like wildflowers. Reeked of it. It clung to their clothes, their skin. He could never tell if he liked it or not. One of those smells you wouldn't necessarily fill your house with, but he wouldn't complaining if it were someone else's home.

But you. Oh you he could take. He liked every inch of you. That smooth skin he yearned to mark. Claim as his. He particularly liked your eyes. Bright and gem like. Lighting like fire in the sun. He loved your expressions. The joy. Your lips when they frowned.

He loved those tears most of all. Quivering lips and stuttering breath when you find his "gifts".

The notes.

The pictures.

You looked so sweet when you slept. All curled up beneath the covers. Softly snoring. So unaware of him right there. Right next to you. So naively you left your window open. This "Protected Town" wasn't so safe.

He's contemplated all the ways he would take you. Dreamed of it. Maybe pulling you out your window and letting you fall the the ground below?

Perhaps pulling you down your hallways and through the front door. All to get you out of the house.

To him.

Oh he hasn't been this giddy since. Since.

He shakes his head.

Nope.

Not there.

Not that night.

He's waited for you. For the right time. You got smart. Called the cops. Had them ID his fingerprints, his tells. They were smart but not smart enough. Officer Smith left you alone.

Smith was supposed to stand guard at your door. Keep you safe.

Fuck. You'd even supply him with coffee and energy drinks. Even feel him and left snacks for the fool.

Your kind heart.

Oh your kind heart.

Smith decided he didn't need to be there anymore. Growing lax with his lack of involvement, he figured Jeff had gone and found a new victim to play with.

Smith should have known better. Should have listened to his senior officers.

"Jeffery wood's doesn't just quit. Despite his actions he's patient. He'll wait." And another. Baring the scars from Jeff's own knife. "Either we catch him of this poor soul winds up dead in the likes I wouldn't wish on Lucifer himself."

Smith didn't listen and Jeff got what he wanted.

The fall from the tree wasn't very far. Gave him a good few into your home anyways. He hit the ground with barely a sound. Slinked his way up to your front porch. Avoiding activating the motion sensored lights. The fucking things.

The front door opened with little effort. Opening locks was second nature to him now. No different from riding a bike or breathing.

It just. Was.

The moment he stepped over your threshold he was assaulted with the smell of wildflowers. It filled and curled in his lungs. Clung to him.

He let his scared fingers trail over light green walls. Stopping to look over a family portrait. You with your parents. All smiles.

Sickening.

His feet followed a well worn path. One he's taken time and time again to enter and leave your home. And now it was for the last time.

He pocketed random valuables. Loose change mostly. A pack of cigarettes left by Smith.

The fools to damn stupid to look in here before driving off to buy some.

Oh well. He wouldn't complain.

Jeff stoped at the bottom of the stairs. Trying to remember which blasted one creeks when he steps on it. Was it the first or fourth?

Oh fuck it.

He shot up the stairs. Surprisingly light on his feet for someone of his size.

Quietly and with patience leaned the hard way, he crept to your bedroom door.

He pressed and ear to it. Already carved grin growing wider when he heard nothing more than your quiet breathing and rustling fabric. And the sound of your box fan rumbling on the wooden floors.

Even the hinges on your door didn't creek when he opened it.

Oh surely this was ment to be.

Jeff didn't bother closing the door behind him. Just made his way to your bed. Swaying side to side on his feet as he did so.

He sat on the stool in front of your desk and rifled through your stuff. Smelling colognes and candles. Finding the source of that wildflower smell. He took note of the name and brand.

Oh he liked that.

He froze when you moved. Breathing in deeply and stretching. He took note of your arching back and exposed skin. So soft. So unmarked.

You yawned and reached blindly for you water on the nightstand.

Jeff handed it to you.

Loving you shrill scream and the way you fell from the bed. Covers falling to the floor with you. Jeff did nothing but watch and laugh.

You bolted up. Shaking. Trembling. Eyes blown wide.

You held a bat.

A fucking bat. Was that supposed to stop him? Jeff sure as hell didn't know nor did he care.

"What to you want?" Your voice was more steady than you. Wich wasn't saying much. Jeff shrugged. Hands in his jackets pockets. Fingers dancing along his knifes edge.

"You." He spoke after a bit. Voice deep and raspy. "I want you." Those tears. God he loved those tears.

"Why. Why me? Why not anyone else. And where's Officer Smith? Did you hurt him!" God you were almost pathetic. But he got it. Honestly. He did.

A well known killer in your bed room. One standing nearly a whole head taller than yourself. And don't get him wrong, you went exactly tiny yourself. You stood just below his chin he figured.

"Because I can. I like you. So reactive. All those little emotions and tells. And Smith. Well Smith fucked you over sweetheart. The bastard left in his car." Jeff tilted his head. Maniac smile on his lips. "An you. Your all mine."

With that he launched himself over your bed. You screamed and dove out of the way. The moment you got back on your feet you cracked the bat over the back of his shoulders.

Oh he loves that little whimper that left your lips when you found out that it had no effect on him. Jeff stood. Grab the bat from you limp hands and tossed it to the other side of the room.

And like the scared little rabbit you were, you took off running from the room. Out the door and launching yourself down the stairs.

Jeff smiled.

Then took off after you.

Down the halls.

Out the front door.

Down the street.

Until he got bored of it. Got board of watching your long legs and bare feet hitting the asphalt.

Of your desperate gasps for air.

He actually put out some effort to get to you. Fingers wound in your loose hair. And pulled. Hard.

Screamed left your lips that he quickly muffled. Hand over your mouth and an arm across you chest as he dragged you over the road. You legs and feet scrapping against the asphalt and loose gravel.

Jeff pulled you into the bush so you could watch wide eyed as Officer Smith drove down the road. Not once noticing you.

Oh how close you were to help. To safety.

You screamed again when he through you onto your back and straddles your him. Pressing his full weight into your arms that he pinned down with his hands.

Wide lidless eyes hovered above your own. He bent down and pressed his head to the crook of your neck and breathed in deeply. Filling his lungs once again with that wildflower scent. And just to scare you more, he ran his tongue along your neck. Following the vein beating along with your pounding heart.

"Please." You pulled your head away from his. Long black hair trailing along you cheeks. You shuddered. Disgusted as you felt his warm tongue leave cooling trails.

"Please what sweetheart? Gotta use your big words now." Tears pooled and fell. Blurring your vision from the stars above. The moon your lonely watcher.

"Please don't. Don't please." Jeff laughed and sat up. Easily grabbing your flailing hands as your reached up to hit him. He liked you were you were now. Weak and helpless. Unable to fight back.

Jeff hand both of your hands with his one. Trailing his hand underneath you white shirt. Skin still warm. Slightly sticky from sweat.

He clawed his fingers down your skin. Entranced by your screams. By the pooling blood staining your shirt.

Like blooming wildflowers.

#creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x y/n #jeff the killer x reader

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#creepypasta #CreepyNoodleBoys #they are here