Not Out of The Woods (Jeff the Killer x Male Reader)

Death by Fridge [Chapter I]

After the intruder got close to umbrella reach, I finally had some common sense and started running again. And for some stupid reason, dropping the umbrella too. Cuz I'm a moron. I maneuvered around the random chairs spread across my house and remembered to step around that stupid water puddle that the fridge kept leaking. I couldn't be bothered to clean it up or get it fixed so I would just soak up the water with a towel every morning. Well, afternoon.. cuz I usually woke up at 1 in the fucking pm. The person was right behind me and I could hear their shoes stomp against the kitchen tile. Their breathing was heavy, filled with bloodlust and rage. Right after I jumped over the puddle, I heard a loud, wet smack. Turning around, I saw the person was on the floor, unconscious.

Maybe I don't need to get the fridge fixed. It's like a free intruder trap. I might have just been coming up with excuses so I wouldn't have to pay to stop the leaking, but the puddle worked, didn't it? Yeah it was definitely a booby trap. An accidental one but I'm going to take all the credit I can get.

Carefully approaching the man, I was unarmed. I picked up a rusty ladle that I haven't touched in months, thinking I could try and be a little smarter with my decisions. Especially with a murderer in my house. Or a robber? A serial killer? A SEX OFFENDE-

Okay actually being serious though, I didn't know what his intentions were but as I got in a 1 foot vicinity of his unconscious body, I think I had a pretty good guess.

Blood was splattered on his hoodie, some splatters looking older and some spots looking fresh. Maybe He was bleeding? I pinched his sleeve, pulling his arm up, looking for wounds. He was clean. The elbows of his hoodie were slightly darker, dirty from whatever he had been doing before. I checked his other side. There were no signs of any injuries. Well, except for the fact that he slammed his face onto my kitchen floor. But if he wasn't bleeding, that means this isn't his blood. It was someone else's.

g r o s s

In all seriousness, that could have been me if I wasn't the most awesome person in the world that used my broken fridge to knock him out. Yeah, this is a very big accomplishment. For a broke college student with nothing but eggo waffles and ramen in his house, that's pretty good.

I looked back down at him. He was still face planted on the floor, with his hood up. I could slightly make out his back rising and falling from each shaky breath he took. I pulled his hood back, revealing his messy and unkempt black hair. How the hell did he live like this? I mean, he could be worse. He could have been a straight man who used axe body spray as a shower in a can, but that wasn't much better than a serial killer with terrible hygiene and wearing other people's blood like an accessory. I'll take what I can get, I guess.

I was contemplating if I should just drag his unconscious body up the stairs and try to make sure his gravestone doesn't say "death by fridge". I mean, he tried to kill me but that doesn't mean I wanna kill him too.

Pushing him to roll over was a lot easier than I expected. He was surprisingly skinny. He wasn't stickbug skinny though. He had muscle on his body, but he was definitely underweight. I couldn't tell if he ate or even drank water in weeks. In his shape, I'm surprised he's even still alive.

I got a good look at his face now that he was facing me. it was the oddest thing I've ever seen. I flinched back when i saw his eyes were open. It was impossible that he was still living with how his face looked. It made no sense. I continued examining him after i realized he couldn't close his eyes. His eyelids look like they had been burnt off. Not all of it, but enough to not be able to close it.

His face structure was conventionally attractive. He was extremely pale and I could see many burn marks on his skin. I couldn't imagine what he'd gone through to get those scars. My stiffness softened when I saw his mouth. His lips showed that he was in extreme pain before he got knocked out. They were pressed together in a thin line, making them look even more pale then they were before. there was a red mark on his forehead where I believe was the impact point on his face to the floor.

The most interesting part though, was his smile. or.. his non-smile? Man, I don't know how this works. His mouth was sliced open from the corners upwards towards his ears. Even though the skin was healed enough to not bleed from his mouth anymore, I couldn't imagine how terrible he must feel all the time. No wonder he was doing what he did. There was a permanent smile carved into his face. it made him look a lot more insane than I had first thought. But something about him was... soft?

I felt as if I needed to protect him. Of coarse I know very well he could take care of himself, considering he survived this long, but I wanted to help him either way. He looked so, pained. For a murderer, he's really vulnerable right now. His face scrunched up in a look of discomfort, and his body looking way to fragile to be healthy.

I snapped myself out of staring at him and actually tried to do something. I tried picking him up, I failed terribly. I tried again, groaning as I could barely lift half of my own body weight. I sat plopped back down on the floor, his limp body laying next to me. I'm still surprised how he hasn't woken up yet. I decided to use a different method. I grabbed both of his arms and started dragging him towards the stairs. I stepped one at a time, pulling him up with me.

When I finally got him upstairs, It dawned on me I only had one bedroom. This was a small apartment villa, one bedroom, cheap, and a living capacity of 4 people if you stretched it. Dropping his arms, they slapped on the floor, louder than I expected making me flinch. Standing at the top of the stairs, I tried to find a solution. It was either bring him back down to the sofa or onto MY bed. The sofa was dusty and had mysterious stains on the cushions. I grimaced at the thought of the couch I never used.

My bed it is

One last time, I dragged him over to my bedroom putting him in a fireman's carry because I couldn't hold him any other way, tossing him onto the bed. I stared at him for a second, then looking down at his dirty clothes.

MY PRECIOUS BED.

I ran to my closet to get new clothes to replace his absolutely horrid white hoodie. Pulling off his bloodied sweater, I replaced it with a pink sweatshirt with teddy care bears on it. I just thought it would be funny to see him wearing it. I tried avoiding looking at his shirtless body. I'm a gay man, not a pervert. Even though I tried my best not to look, I couldn't help but take a look at his scars. Some looked fully healed, very shallow. Other scars looked like he'd been stabbed by a 6 inch knife.

The more I looked, the more scars I found. At this point, I didn't even care there was a half naked serial killer in my bed. He was well toned. Not muscular but looked like he had some good strength in him. I didn't care about that though. The scars on his body interested me way beyond anything else. Each one looks like it had a story behind it. I wanted to know those stories. Listen to him talk. Yes, I never heard his voice before, but the more terrible a person is, the more stories they had to tell. And the more things they've gone through. The things that turned them into these people in the first place.

I may have too much empathy for a guy who hates people, but I really cant help it. I'm not the best person myself. I have no right to judge on other's decisions. But I can help them. Not now though. I was tired out of my mind from waking up this late in the night. I have empathy and kindness but not that much, god damn.

Looking back at my clock, 5am. Sighing, I decided to lay down for a bit as well. Before I knew it, I felt myself drifting into the comfort of sleep.

A small nap won't hurt

2254 words

A/N
Ayy the start of a new story. I've been doing way better since my last story ended so I decided to start another. Just for the fun of it I guess. I am very much a gay man who simps for Jeff the killer so Jeff x Male Reader it is. I made the character Y/N, to be sarcastic and extremely done with everything. I feel as if that would add some humor. They actually have a large portion of my personality and I'm very self absorbed so that adds even more things to laugh at. Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!