Bloody Mary (Creepypasta oneshots) [COMPLETED]

Emo Boy (Jeff the Killer x Reader)

The art in his chapter is made by Vellatrelle on Instagram 
Requested by: No one

Words: 798

Genre: Again, I don't really know

Associated song: Emo Boy - Ayesha Erotica 

!Tw! Swearing and sexual language.
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"Got the kind of look to make me freak, that long ass hair with the tightest jeans, My Chemical Romance on his tee. He looks so sick like he was dying, if I said he wasn't hot, I'd be lying. Please, handsome, don't be coy. Come on, fuck me emo boy!" 

   You sip on your soda as you wait for your friends to arrive at the mall. The groupchat thought it would be a great idea to meet up at the mall. You're supposed to meet at twelve thirty. But you came at twelve twenty, better to be early than late. You boredly scroll through Instagram as someone sits down at the table you're sitting at. You glance up at the figure, shocked by what you see. Sitting in front of you is a man, about six feet tall, shoulder-length jet black hair. He looks like he has no eyelids, he also looks very sleep deprived. He is wearing a black mask with metal spikes protruding out of the front fabric. There's no need for a mask anymore, Covid-19 has been completely gone for about four years now. he is also wearing a semi-baggy My Chemical Romance t-shirt. He's pretty attractive for a guy who has no eye lids. As soon as he looks at you, he realizes he sat at the wrong table. "Oh, sorry," he mumbles, you push out a shocked 'it's okay'. 

        Still in shock, you sit at your table just kind of staring at your phone. Soon enough, your friends arrive at the mall and you all start to walk around. Oddly enough, every store you enter, the emo guy is there too, you continue to brush it of as a coincidence. He seems to have came with friends as well. One with short auburn hair, a cool looking blue mask with only two, blacked out eye holes. Black sludge rolling down the mask, a blue hoodie, and black skinny jeans with dock martins. He looks to be about six foot ten. The other one has blonde, jaw line-length hair, a green hoodie and a black beanie with the tri-force symbol embroidered onto the front. He is wearing ripped black skinny jeans with green converse high-tops. He looks to be about five foot five and has a stud nose piercing. They're all pretty attractive, especially the emo boy. "Uh Y/n? Are you good?" Your face starts to heat up, realizing you were staring. "Yeah, I'm good." You say, tearing your gaze away from the group of men. Your friends decide to go back to the food court, because it's been a few hours and they have to leave soon.

        Sitting down at a table with your friends, you start to dig in to your order of f/f. You feel like you're being watched, you look around the small space and see the emo boy staring at you before looking away. "Y/n, you've been staring that guy down for a while now. Why don't you go talk to him? He looks pretty cute." One of your friends says, another one butts in. "Yeah! Maybe you'll get his number!" You gulp nervously and stand p to go talk to him, To your suprise, he stands up too. You avoid eye contact as you both awkwardly walk towards each other. Once you're in front of the tall man, you take a deep breath. "Hey," you start, "Hey," he says back. You both stand there for a minute, you laugh a little bit. "Sorry, I'm a bit awkward, my friends think you're cute and that I should talk to you," you explain. You can see his face get a bit red. "Yeah, my friends said the same, I also think you're really cute." You feel your face get very hot, and you nod in agreement. "Thank you, I think you're really cute too." 

        "What's your name?" You ask, trying to make more small talk. "Uh, Jeff. What's yours?" "Y/n, nice to meet you Jeff," you finish, holding out your hand for a hand shake. Jeff gladly takes your hand and shakes it gingerly. You and Jeff talk for a little bit more until you and your friends have to go. You bid Jeff a goodbye and walk away, as you walk away, you feel something in the palm of your hand that was not there before. Opening the palm of your hand, you find a slip of paper with a phone number messily scrawled onto it. You smile and shake your head.