oh you do creepypasta? hell yes. mind dropping some creepy fluffy smut with one of ur fave killers just to show off lol?
this was the first fandom i ever read and wrote for, back when i was literally like 11 years old TT it’s been so long... seeing creepypasta x reader posts on tumblr still getting a huge amount of notes feels a little jarring though HAHA i have no idea anymore if there’s a popular fanon for them soooooo doing my own thing <3
notes: eyeless jack x reader, terratophilia, mentions of organs, consensual and fluffy-ish but STRANGE sex lol
You'll never get used to how his mask works. Or... His face? You guess it'd be the latter. One day, you’ll have to ask.
No mask could crack and mould together like his face does. Jack hovers above you, face splitting open and revealing an emptiness akin to a gaping maw. Thick strands of black goo ooze from the opening, never dripping done onto your skin. From the depths, a tongue emerges. It's thick and long, ending in a tapered point. He lets it fall out of his mouth and slap against your chest with a disgustingly loud wet noise, spit splashing up against your chin.
"God, Jack- You know I hate it when you do that!" You say, without much of a real bite.
A deep, choppy noise rises from the depths of his chest.
"It's... Funny..." It'd taken you a while to understand his words perfectly, but you're now proficient in it. Jack breathes out every single one of his words, taken a slight pause between each of them. In contrast with his large body, his voice is never more than a whisper.
"I'm sure it is." As soon as you finish your sentence, his tongue finally slithers into your mouth and sinks in until you're completely full. The tip traces symbols on your palate, and it has you squirming and laughing uncontrollably.
The rest of his body, as humanoid as it seems, is all an illusion. Not just the fact that his limbs are too long, or his skin being the wrong colour. Even the 'clothes' he's wearing are part of his body. The seams of his hoodie pocket squirm until another tendril slips out, larger and thicker and oozing a black liquid. (As far as you know, it's not dangerous to your body... You've ingested far too much at this point, without any consequences.) It's similar to his tongue, albeit a bit less dexterous.
His hands, clawed and gray, find their way to your stomach. He'd never pierce the skin, never allow himself to lose full control. You'd never ask him to hurt you either, knowing if he got a taste of your blood, he might consume you until there's nothing left. The most he'll do, is this. Instead of squeezing your chest, he massages your stomach, enjoying feeling your guts twitch and move underneath his grip. With every movement, what you've taken to calling his dick, crawls up further.
When it finally sinks inside you, he traces a heart on the top of your mouth. An anatomically correct one.
