Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios

You Give Him A Fright!

(The Phantom has returned to her former glory! Well, kind of. We're still workin' on that. Anydoodles, this suggestion was brought to you by @AngelDoll56, who receives her promised cookie! (.:::.))

Jeff the Killer (Special delivery for @lovecreepythings!)

You were royally ticked off at Jeffy boy, for some kind of wrong that the killer had unwittingly committed.

Actually, it was because he'd lobbed a knife through the television during commercials, making you miss the grand finale of (Favourite TV Show/Anime/Movie/Cooking Program).

I was bored, he'd confessed with a little halfhearted shrug of his shoulders when confronted with the evidence.

But you were a clever kind of girl, willing to wait and bide your time. Sort of. Until the evening, when opportunity still ceased to present itself.

With dark storm clouds brooding over your head, you sat hunched-up on the couch, revenge fantasies churning left and right. Stick butter in his shoes? Replace his knife with a squeaky replica?

No, no, no. None of those were good enough. You even picked up the phone and gave BEN a ring, to ask if he had any good ideas. He did. But he wanted your refrigerator as payment. So you hung up on him.

You tried calling a friend, but just ended up going on a rant about how Jeff had ruined the finale. F/N tried to calm you down and promised she'd watch it on her T.V and tell you everything, but it wasn't enough.

Finally, inspiration came to you in the most peculiar way. First, you heard the sound of water running in the bathroom; Jeff had let himself in to take a shower.

Second, the ghost of C/N came floating by. He was wearing a Deadpool mask, for some godforsaken reason. And his beard was poking out of the bottom, braided.

A lightbulb appeared over your head. You lunged forward, grabbed the cosplaying cat (we still don't know why the hell he was in your house), and ran upstairs.

The ghost of C/N looked awfully confused about the whole affair, but he definitely recognised the sound of running water. And he didn't like it.

You kicked open the bathroom door and snuck in, death-gripping the wriggling pussycat. You could see the faint, shadowy outline of Jeff behind foggy glass, scrubbing shampoo into his hair.

C/N, as if psychically sensing the catastrophic event that was about to occur, froze up rigid - fur standing on end. Couldn't see his face - it was still obstructed by the Deadpool mask.

You chuckled deviously under your breath, and then flung the ghostly feline over the top of the shower.

"REEEOOOOW!"

"AAAAAAAHHH!" His terrified shriek was high-pitched enough to crack the glass.

An epic struggle ensured, seen entirely in shower silhouette. There was lots of shouting and slipping and scratching and hissing.

C/N shot back over, flying on an airy cloud of ghostly vapour, wet as a fish. The ghostly feline hightailed it like a bat out of hell, never looking back.

Jeff opened the door without a word, stark naked and a fine fall of sopping raven hair covering his face. He was covered in thin scratches and little C/N bites.

You were standing there, smiling sweetly and offering him a towel.

With his head bowed down, he wordlessly stomped past you - stopping to swipe the towel out of your hand with an unhappy growl along the way.