MaskedMemories

Pairing: Nurse Ann x f!reader

⚠️ fluff

The morning sunlight filtered softly through the tall windows of the Creepypasta mansion, casting a warm glow across the usually chaotic kitchen. For once, it was completely quiet.

You sat at the wooden table, nursing a warm mug of tea and enjoying the rare moment of peace. The stillness didn’t last long, though. The heavy oak door creaked open, and Ann Lusen came inside. She wasn't carrying her signature black chainsaw today. Instead, she looked incredibly relaxed, her long dark hair falling loosely over her shoulders instead of being tucked away, and her usual stark medical gown replaced by a oversized, comfortable sweater. Even the stitches tracing across her pale skin looked softened by the morning light.

"Mind if I join you?" Ann asked, her voice surprisingly gentle compared to her usual clinical tone.

"Not at all," you smiled, sliding a chair out for her.

She offered a small, rare smile that reached her striking, unconventional eyes. Ann set down a small paper bag she had been holding. As she opened it, the rich, sweet scent of vanilla and melted sugar filled the air. She pulled out two perfectly glazed pastries, still warm from a nearby bakery she had visited during her early morning rounds.

"I figured the others would eat the whole kitchen if they were awake," Ann murmured, sliding one of the pastries toward you. "Think of it as a preemptive health measure. A happy mind makes for a resilient body."

"You're just looking out for my medical well-being?" you teased, taking a bite. The pastry was delicious.

Ann's cheeks took on a faint, endearing tint of pink. She looked down at her own hands, tracing the stitched lines along her knuckles. "Well... maybe I just wanted to spend some quiet time with you before the mansion turns into a madhouse."

Heart warmed by her unexpected forwardness, you reached across the table and gently placed your hand over hers. She didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her hand over, letting her fingers lace securely through yours. Her skin was naturally cool, but the gesture itself felt entirely warm.

For the next hour, the terrifying undead nurse vanished, replaced entirely by a sweet companion who laughed softly at your jokes, shared stories about her favorite quiet spots in the surrounding woods, and fed you a small piece of her pastry just to see you blush. It was a perfect, gentle pocket of calm in a world that was usually anything but chaotic.

Pairing: Homicidal Liu x f!reader

Warning fluff

The heavy rain outside continued to pelt against the mansion windows, but the living room had cleared out, leaving a cozy silence behind. Toby had finally wandered off to deliver the untangled yarn to Sally, leaving you alone on the couch.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and Homicidal Liu stepped into the room.

His long leather coat was damp from the storm, and his signature striped scarf was pulled high up over his neck, partially hiding the heavy stitching on his face. He looked exhausted, his shoulders slumped as he ran a hand through his messy brown hair.

When his green eyes met yours, the tight, guarded line of his shoulders visibly relaxed.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, his voice a low, gentle rumble.

Before you could even answer, a sudden, harsh shift took over his expression. His eyes narrowed slightly, and his voice dropped an octave, dripping with mock annoyance. "As if they’d say no to us, Liu. Just sit down already."

You smiled warmly, entirely unfazed by Sully—the aggressive alternate personality sharing Liu's mind. Over time, you had learned that despite Sully's loud and grumpy outbursts, he was just as protective of this quiet space as Liu was.

"Of course, Liu. Come here," you said, patting the empty spot on the couch next to you.

Liu offered a small, grateful smile and sank into the cushions. He unwrapped his damp scarf, tossing it over the arm of the chair to dry, and sighed as the warmth of the room finally reached him.

You reached over to the coffee table and picked up a fresh book you had brought down earlier, along with a small box of colored adhesive tabs. You knew Liu loved to read—it was one of the few things that completely calmed both him and Sully down.

"I bought this for you," you said softly, sliding the book into his hands. "I thought we could tab our favorite quotes together."

Liu looked down at the cover, his eyes softening completely. He traced the smooth paper with his fingers. "You remembered I wanted to read this."

"It's about time someone brought us something useful instead of more bloodstains," Sully grumbled, though his tone lacked any real bite. In fact, a faint, rare smirk tugged at the left side of Liu's stitched mouth—a clear sign that Sully was secretly pleased.

Liu cracked the book open to the first page, leaning his shoulder heavily against yours. You rested your head against him, breathing in the scent of rain, old paper, and the faint trace of his leather jacket.

For the next hour, the only sounds in the room were the turning of pages and the soft rustle of plastic tabs. Liu read aloud in his smooth, quiet voice. Whenever a sentence struck a chord, you would hand him a bright pink or blue tab, and he would carefully press it onto the edge of the page with his gloved thumb.

At one point, while reading a particularly beautiful description of a quiet landscape, Liu's voice trailed off. You looked up and saw him staring down at you, his green eyes filled with a profound, quiet affection.

"Thank you," Liu whispered, his hand finding yours and squeezing it tightly. "For making it quiet in here."

He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the top of your head, his stitches scratching lightly against your hair. For the rest of the rainy evening, the monsters of the mansion stayed far away, leaving the two—or rather, three—of you in perfect, peaceful warmth.

Pairing: Laughing Jack x f!reader

⚠️ fluff

The rhythmic ticking of the living room clock was suddenly drowned out by a familiar, tinny melody. Pop Goes the Weasel began to echo softly through your apartment. You didn't panic; instead, a smile tugged at your lips. A colorful swirl of black and white smoke materialized right on your couch, revealing a towering, monochrome figure.

Laughing Jack was back from his nightly wanderings, his long, striped arms wrapped tightly around a massive, brightly wrapped box.

"Guess who, my little sugarplum!" Jack cackled, his voice a chaotic mix of a carnival barker and a playful child. His jagged, serrated grin stretched wide across his pale face, and his piercing white eyes sparkled with frantic excitement.

"Welcome back, Jack," you chuckled, setting down your book.

Before you could fully stand up, the seven-foot-tall clown lunged forward. He didn't attack; instead, he completely engulfed your smaller frame in a dramatic, almost bone-crushing hug. His long, feather-fringed shoulders pressed against your cheeks, and his monochrome hair tickled your face. He inhaled deeply, resting his pointed, cone-shaped nose right against your shoulder.

"I missed you! The woods are so boring, and none of the other pastas understand the culinary art of confectionery!" he pouted dramatically, swaying you side to side like a giant rag doll.

"What did you bring me tonight?" you asked, laughing as you gently patted his striped back.

Jack gasped, pulling away instantly. "The most important thing ever! Look, look, look!"

He ripped the bow off the box with his sharp black claws, surprisingly delicate enough not to tear the cardboard underneath. Inside was a chaotic masterpiece: a towering, multi-layered mountain of homemade hard candies, swirling with vibrant pinks, blues, and purples. It stood out in stark contrast to his entirely black-and-white world.

"I spent hours trying to get the scent right," Jack whispered, his voice suddenly dropping its manic edge, replaced by a rare, genuine softness. "It’s cotton candy, strawberry, and a hint of vanilla. Just for you."

He leaned in close, staring at you without blinking, completely captivated, waiting to catch your exact reaction.

You picked up a swirling pink piece and popped it into your mouth. The sweet, nostalgic flavor burst across your tongue. "Jack, this is amazing. It's perfect."

The monochrome clown practically beamed. The slight, lingering hint of insecurity that always plagued his ancient, lonely heart melted away instantly at your words. He let out a loud, joyous laugh that made the light fixtures shake ever so slightly.

"Only the best for my favorite person!" he cheered.

He slumped onto the couch, pulling you back into his side. His long, lanky arm looped around your waist, pulling you flush against his side. Despite his terrifying appearance to the rest of the world, to you, he was just a giant, affectionate dork. You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the strange, faint sound of carnival music that seemed to hum deep within him instead of a heartbeat.

Jack used his long clawed fingers to gently twirl a strand of your hair, being incredibly careful not to scratch you.

"Stay like this forever?" Jack asked softly, his sharp teeth peeking out in a sweet, relaxed smile.

"As long as you keep making the candy," you teased, turning to press a gentle kiss to his pale cheek.

Jack's face dusted with a rare hint of grey blush, and he let out a shy, giggling cackle, squeezing you just a little bit tighter. For a terrifying urban legend, he was remarkably easy to sweet-talk.

Pairing: Nina the killer x f!reader

Warning fluff

The fluorescent lights of the supermarket flickered, casting a sickly pale glow over the cereal aisle. Nina adjusted the hood of her purple sweatshirt, pulling it lower to hide the scarred, stitched corners of her mouth. Beside her, you were humming a mindless tune, debating between three different brands of oatmeal.

Nina wasn’t used to this. Usually, her nights were filled with the metallic scent of copper and the adrenaline of the hunt. Now, her biggest challenge was trying not to stare too intensely at the back of your head while you read nutrition labels.

"Just pick one," Nina rasped, her voice a low, gravelly whisper. "They all taste like cardboard anyway."

You turned to her, flashing a bright, teasing grin. "It’s about the texture, Nina. Do you want mushy or crunchy?"

She felt that strange, fluttering warmth in her chest—the one she usually tried to kill with a knife. Instead, she leaned into your space, her shoulder brushing yours. "I want to go home," she muttered, though there was no real bite in her tone.

"Five more minutes," you promised, dropping a box into the cart and reaching out to lace your fingers with hers.

Her hand was cold and calloused, but you squeezed it anyway. Nina stiffened for a split second before her grip tightened around yours. She wasn't good at the soft stuff—her version of affection was usually bringing you a "trophy" she'd found in the woods—but she was trying.

Once you were back at the apartment, the door safely locked against the world, the tension finally bled out of her shoulders. She shed her hoodie, revealing the pale, jagged skin of her arms, and collapsed onto the small sofa.

You didn't hesitate, climbing over her legs to settle into her lap. Nina let out a huff of air, her arms instinctively wrapping around your waist to keep you from falling. She buried her face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of your shampoo—something floral and normal that grounded her.

"You're warm," she murmured against your skin.

"That's because I'm not a cryptid," you joked, running your fingers through her dark, messy hair.

Nina pulled back just enough to look at you. The stitches at the corners of her mouth pulled as she tried to form a real, soft smile. It wasn't perfect, and to anyone else, it might have looked haunting, but to you, it was the most honest thing she possessed.

She leaned in, pressing her forehead against yours. No knives, no fans, no blood. Just the sound of your breathing and the quiet safety of a room where she didn't have to be a monster.

"Stay," she whispered, the command softened by a hint of a plea.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," you replied, kissing the tip of her nose.

Nina sighed, closing her eyes and pulling you closer, content to let the rest of the world fade into the shadows.

Warning: fluff

Pairing: Eyeless Jack x f!reader

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, his blue mask resting on the nightstand. The dim light of the bedroom caught the dark, ink-like substance that stained his gray skin, tracing pathless trails from his empty sockets. He was usually so careful, so clinical, but tonight the weight of his "work" felt heavier than usual.

You walked in, the soft creak of the floorboards announcing your arrival. Without a word, you climbed onto the bed behind him, pressing your chest against his broad back. Your arms wrapped around his waist, and you felt him hitch a breath—a sharp, rattling sound that eventually smoothed out as he leaned back into your warmth.

"Rough night?" you whispered, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He didn't answer immediately. His gloved hand reached down, lacing his fingers through yours. "Just... quiet," he finally muttered, his voice a low, raspy hum. "Too quiet out there."

You let go of his waist and moved to sit in front of him. Taking a damp cloth from a bowl you’d brought in, you gently tilted his chin up. He didn't pull away. He never did with you. As you carefully wiped away the dried black tar from his cheeks, his head loll slightly to the side, his version of a contented sigh.

After the mask was clean and his face was clear, you pulled him down so his head rested in your lap. Your fingers found their way into his messy, dark hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Jack let out a sound that was almost a purr, his body going completely limp as the tension bled out of his muscles.

"You're not going anywhere, right?" he asked, his voice barely audible.

"Nowhere," you promised, leaning down to kiss his forehead.

He shifted, burying his face into your stomach, his arms locking around your hips like he was afraid you might vanish if he let go. For a monster who lived in the shadows and fed on the macabre, he looked remarkably like a boy just trying to find a place to belong.

"Good," he mumbled against your shirt. "Stay. Just for a while."

"For as long as you want, Jack."