Life With Creepypastas - Creepypastas X Reader

1 ⦻ Spooky Octostick Man Breaks Into Your House

Character File Key:
(Y/N) = Your Name
(L/N) = Last Name
(CP/N) = Creepypasta Name
(E/C) = Eye Color
(H/C) = Hair Color
(W/T) = Weapon Type
(They/Them) Will be used to refer to (Y/N) in this story. They however can be whatever you want them to be.
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Reader's P.  O . V (male, female, duck, whatever)

So, I'm one of those people that take the weekend for granted. Somehow the time passes by unnoticed, and the next thing you know, you're waking your sorry ass up on a Monday morning at 6:00, having to get ready for school, whining about missing the weekend. Yeah, that's me.

This particular Monday however, I just wasn't feeling it, the energy to get up. Usually, I'd drag myself out of bed and be like "fuck it, let's just get this week over with."

But this time, I couldn't bring myself to. I laid in bed 6AM with my alarm screaming, and there was me staring up at the ceiling with wide, bloodshot eyes, like a madman. I didn't want to even move to stop the ringing. I was worn and tired and I wanted more than anything for this to actually just be a Saturday morning and the past two days to have just been a very realistic dream.

Unfortunately,  I had sense and knew it was time to get up because get real (Y/N), the weekends' over. You gotta go lEaRn n' sHiT.

I still didn't get out of bed though, and continued to stare into space. Eventually my alarm shut up, but it was probably going to start up again in the next 5 minutes or so.

As I laid in bed, trying to think up a way to avoid having to be a responsible person, I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway outside my room. One of my parents were now coming around to make sure I was awake and getting ready, since I didnt follow up with the alarm as usual.

I stared at the door for a bit, then thought of an idea. I quickly grabbed my heated phone off the dresser and place it on my forehead, pressing the device against my skin. It wasnt too much heat, but hopefully it was just enough to help my plan pull through.

Just before the door was opened, I had tossed the phone back in its place and had put on a pathetic, feverish looking expression on my face. My body was sprawled in bed like I had a restless night, and I began letting out pitiful groans of pain.

It was my father that walked in, a pissed looking expression on his face as he glared over at me still in bed. I look at him in the eye and let out another groan. "dAD....I don't-"

"Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for school now or somethin'? What're you still doin' in bed?"

I slowly side-eyed him and snapped, "Don't interrupt me Papa." I then reverted back to 'being sick and lowered my voice. "I..don't feel so good..."

I throw in an extra raspy cough to enhance my trickery, and then look up to my father's eyes with a dull, gray expression; classic acting for that excuse, I'd say.

"You're not feeling well? What's that mean? You were fine last night and all of a sudden you're not?" I froze as he came up to me and rested a palm against my forehead, trying to feel for a temperature, and his eyes slowly narrowed as he kept feeling for a level of heat that really wasn't there. The heat from my phone must've worn off already.

"I don't feel a temperature on you, (L/N)."

"...Hey, I said I didn't feel well, not that I had a fever..." I lied.

My father frowned at me, shook his head, then sighed, removing his hand from my forehead. "Now you're sure you're really sick? Cause your mother wont like it, you missin' school for no good reason and all..."