Creepypasta Boyfriend Scenarios

Trying to Run

"How . . . how do you know my name?" You whispered.

The woman giggled. It shook you to your fucking core. Ice traveled down your spine as her laughter grew in volume but changed, became deeper and began to glitch, becoming horribly familiar. A scream left your lips when your phone shocked you, making you drop it. All went quiet once again, except for your heavy breathing and whimpers, and the familiar sound of the television turning on behind you.

Eyeless Jack:

It was time to wipe your tears. You sniffled and sat up, listening closely for a moment. The house was completely silent. You hated it. Even though you were scared, very scared, you couldn't sit here any longer. There was a monster downstairs, you had to do something. But thinking about that hurt you horribly, he wasn't a monster, he was your Jack . . . then why did he look like that? There was no questioning it, he was a monster. You just had to figure out if he was a dangerous one. But you preferred to do that from a distance.

You worked quietly as possible. Silently, you filled a small bag and grabbed a pair of shoes. You wouldn't put them on yet, he was still downstairs. If you were gonna sneak out you had to do so in your socks. If only your dumbass could figure out how to open your window, then you'd be done here. Instead, you had to walk out right under his nose.

You took a deep breath before gripping the doorknob. It took all your inner strength to open the door. Seeing the empty hallway and no sharp toothed monster waiting to eat you made you nearly breathe out in relief, but you couldn't quite yet. One step at a time, Y/N. You took a step forward. Then another. Then another. You reached the staircase, where you once again hesitated before peeking around the corner. From what little you could see of the lower level, the coast was clear.

One step at a time now. One step. Another. And another. But as your vision lowered to the dining room, you froze as your eyes finally landed on him. How could you miss him, his blue mask stood out in the room. And it was staring right at you. What the fuck were you thinking, what had you even been planning? Of course he'd still be here waiting for you. What, did you think he was just doing to leave? Or he was gonna fall asleep on the couch, la dee da?

As he stood up tall and approached you, a sudden wave of love for him from the familiarity of his height combined with your self doubts and hatred made your eyes fill with tears. Perhaps you deserved whatever was about to happen to you.

Masky:

You can't do this. You can't do this. You can't do this. Hearing his heavy footsteps walking around the kitchen was driving you insane. You were scared, unbelievably scared. Fear made your stomach ache, it felt like it was eating away at your insides. You couldn't take it anymore, fuck it. If this ended up being a joke, then so what? It was a joke, and it was his fault for upsetting you. But if not . . . you had to leave. Now.

But it wasn't that simple. He was right in the other room, he'd definitely hear you get up and open and close the door. Perhaps you could outrun him? You didn't have a car, and running away to either call the police or at least have some space to figure out what the hell was going on was your best bet. But the instant you stood up, you had to be quick. Here we go . . .

You stood up, and instantly made your way over to the door. Gripping the knob weakly, you flung open the door and heard Tim call your name just before slamming it behind you. Good, now run. You took off down the driveway and then the street, too scared to turn around. You definitely weren't an athlete, pretty soon you were running out of breath and your chest had a knot in it. But you kept going, even when you slowed to a jog, and then a walk, you kept going. Finally, finally, after what seemed like forever you paused to catch your breath.

You were a good distance away from your house by now, it was starting to get dark but you weren't too concerned. You had your phone, and it's not like Tim had followed you. Which was actually surprising considering-

Wait.

You hear footsteps. No, someone's running. You whip around just as a heavy force tackles you onto the ground, making you fall unconscious once your head hits the pavement.

Hoodie:

Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Everything is fine. Just breathe.

But everything isn't fine! Your boyfriend just said he's a murderer, and he was mean to you and snapped at you. Brian was never mean to you, so what did you do wrong? This one question bounced around your mind and almost made you dizzy. He said he'd be back soon, and you wanted to see him but . . . at the same time you didn't. You missed him, but you were scared. You wanted answers, but didn't.

You needed to breathe, you needed some fresh air. A walk should help, just a quick walk to calm you down. With a sigh, you walked over to the front door and pulled on your coat before opening it.

And then you stopped in your tracks.

Brian was leaning against the wall outside. He turned to you silently, just one look and you were shaking. Because you knew you shouldn't have opened that door.

Homicidal Liu/Sully:

A shiver went up your spine as your breath appeared before you in the cold. Not the best weather, but it would have to do. You felt like taking a walk outside to stretch your legs, plus it was a pretty snow day. You definitely didn't mind seeing the blanket of ice covering your neighborhood. Liu was sleeping on the couch, you felt kind of bad leaving him but you had covered him in a thick blanket so hopefully he wouldn't be too mad. Chuckling, you shook your head at this thought. Liu was never mad with you.

Ironically, this was the last thought you had before everything descended to chaos.

"Y/N!" You gasped and turned around. Was that Liu calling you? Yes it was, you could see him up ahead. You quickly approached, worried something had happened. But the closer you got, the more you saw his enraged expression. He walked towards you faster as you slowed down. Why was he so angry? And why was it scaring the hell out of you?

The Bloody Painter:

Helen got up and went to the restroom, leaving you with your thoughts. Alone. You could only think of one thing, and that was how much you wanted to get the hell out of there. So you did. Without hesitation, you got up out of your seat and left your own apartment, slowly walking down the halls and dragging your feet.

You were exhausted and definitely not in the mood for this. You didn't even know what to think, how to feel, what to say. Just . . . you were just tired. So tired. So when you heard footsteps stomping from behind you at a fast pace, you didn't run even though you knew who it was. You didn't glare back when he glowered down at you angrily. And you didn't struggle as he grabbed your arm and dragged you back to your apartment.

Hobo Heart:

Why was life so hard? Why did life have to be so fucking confusing? You growled and gripped the steering wheel tighter, getting yourself worked up. No, you weren't running away out of fear. You were just going for a drive to clear your head and calm yourself. Well, it didn't end up working, so now you were just speeding along a dark road next to a gloomy forest, wondering why the hell you were even here.

BANG.

You screamed and slammed on the brakes, making yourself jerk forward. What the fuck was that? Did you hit a deer? Oh my god, you better not have hit anything. You swung open your car door and got out to look below your vehicle, but something in the corner of your eye made you glance upwards. And gape.

What.

The fuck.

Hobo Heart was standing on top of your car, staring down at you with murder written across his face. The loud noise, had that been him? But how- how the fuck did he get up there? He jumped down and you watched his wings, staring at them. There was no way, no way . . . humans don't have wings, so then . . . what the hell was he?