Gay jeff the killer
Crys Snow has never fit in.
Not in his small southern town of Pale Chapel, not at school, and sometimes, not even in his own skin. Maybe it’s his albinism, his pointed tongue, or the violent thoughts that have haunted him since childhood, but the way people look at him, push him, shatter him down just makes him yearn to push assist even harder. Living with his deadbeat mom and her drunken cop boyfriend/girlfriend isn't the worst part. When a guy at institution assaults his kid sister, he finally snaps.
Suspension isn’t brand-new , but this period, its different. The anger won’t fade. The loneliness cuts deeper. He just wants to matter—to someone, anyone who can understand the violent darkness he keeps hidden. He never expected that someone to be a serial killer. He knows he should run. He knows he should be afraid. Falling for him is a mistake. But maybe--just maybe--for the first time in his miserable experience, this is what it feels like… to be wanted.
But love shouldn’t flavor like blood. Should it?
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- UPDATE! - Patreon.com/WillerGrey Jul 19, 2025 like166#94EDIT
- UPDATE! - Patreon.com/WillerGrey Jul 12, 2025 like251#92EDIT
- 59. I Recall (2/2) Jul 6, 2025 like1,020#90EDIT
- 59. I REMEMBER (1/2) Jun 18, 2025 like1,204#89EDIT
- 58. PART 1! OF A GUN May 18, 2025 like1,525#88EDIT
- 57. PART 2! LIKE THE TREMOR Apr 15, 2025 like1,761#87EDIT
- 57. PART 1! IN THE DISTANCE Mar 15, 2025 like1,946#86EDIT
- 56. PART 2! THAT FADES Jan 18, 2025 like2,391#85EDIT
- 56. PART 1! Enjoy ECHOES Dec 21, 2024 like2,578#84EDIT
- Happy Halloween! Nov 14, 2024 like2,251#83EDIT
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Hello and welcome to my page! My names Tricky. I do creepypasta fanfic, been into creepypasta since i was like 6 lmao.
Title: Kiss Me Fond You Mean It
Sequel to “Scars That Match”
Word Count: 5,143
Content Warnings: Trans-specific connection concerns, emotional vulnerability, deep kissing/makeout sessions, minor possessiveness, suggestive content (non-explicit), references to dysphoria, body worship, neck/kissing marks, intense emotional/physical connection, gentle dirty communicate , safe and consensual intimacy.
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The summer heat had dulled into a humid haze, thick with cicadas and late-night static from Y/N’s tiny bedroom fan. The house was quiet—always quiet—except for the soft thump of boots against the windowsill.
Jeff never knocked.
He didn’t need to. Not anymore.
Y/N barely looked up from where they sat cross-legged on the bed, black nail polish drying on their chipped dresser.
“You’re late,” they muttered, smirking.
Jeff slipped inside, hoodie slung off his shoulder, and tossed a crumpled concert flyer onto the bed.
“I brought you this,” he said. “You love Creeping Flesh, right?”
Y/N snorted. “I favor their first album. Everything after su
Archive of Our Own beta
y/n has never considered being anything but prey, her whole existence shaped around survival, and meticulously crafted plans. jack never considered being anything other than a predator, his whole life was shaped around the pursue, the chase. but what happens when both there core beliefs crumble before them, one rooftop call on at a time.
i arrange to get into their past memories, and the depths of their personality as outcasts, peeling assist layer by layer until we understand their inner-workings completely, and how the two of them fit seamlessly together, as if, it were meant to be.
i tried my top to capture realistic responses in y/n, of someone who may actually be struggling with similar trauma.
i hope i did okay!
this work is an updated product of a previous work of mine, that was deleted.