۶ৎ𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧۶ৎ

────୨ৎ────

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ♡⃝ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ◡̈ ☽⋆ 𝐄𝐝𝐞𝐧 ✿ 𝟏𝟖 ✿ 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫

✿☾☻︎✿ 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 ✿☾☻︎✿

⇨ 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐚

⇨ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬

⇨ 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬

⇨ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝

•*¨*•.¸¸☆** ੈ✩‧₊˚*

✿ 𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬? 𝐘𝐞𝐬! 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬!

✿ 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞.

✿ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓!

𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

✿ 𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧!☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

CW: gay boys kissing, blood, knife/blade play, biting, hungry kisses, spit as lube, sex in forest/public, maybe cnc, smoking cigarettes, alcohol

Word Count: 2,379

A/N: hey, this my comeback era! i’m stepping away from creepypasta for now and exploring with some stuff! sorry i have been gone, my mental health has been all over the place lately. i’m taking care of myself and i hope all of you do too! i love you so much, please enjoy! also i’m using their real names, sematary = zane, ghost mountain = wren.

Zane couldn’t sleep. He laid on his side, in his bed, holding his phone stalking through Wren’s instagram.

“Where did it all go wrong?” he wondered.

Zane sat up and threw his phone down, his head resting in his hands. He contemplated calling his old friend, to gain a reconnection with him, but there was no way Wren would ever answer. He sighed and walked over to his side table, he pulled out a red carton of Marlboro Reds and lit one, taking a long exaggerated drag before exhaling.

Zane and Wren had been friends for as long as they can remember, so incredibly close, but one day Wren stopped reaching out and became distant. Zane was too much into the music to even notice, so naturally they grew apart. Until recently, Zane noticed he hadn’t heard from Wren in a long time, hince the instagram stalking. His mind wondered what was wrong, did he do something? Was it something else entirely?

“I should call him.” Zane talked to himself before grabbing his phone with shaking hands. He looked through his contacts to find Wren, he sighed as he hit the dial button, closing his eyes in anticipation.

“We’re sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or no longer in service.” Zane hung up, tears swelling his eyes. The bastard got a new phone number. Zane threw his phone back down; he lit another cigarette and stared at himself in the reflection of his phone. What did he do wrong? He hugged his knees close to his chest, trying to keep the tears in his eyes, boys don’t cry. His best friend in the world, just gone. Zane decided it was best to try in the morning, he was going to reach out no matter if Wren liked it or not. He put his cigarette out on his wrist, he groaned at the harsh sting, but he felt like he deserved it for being a bad friend.

-

Morning came, Zane ran on three hours of actual sleep, Wren was the only thing on his mind. Zane got up and chugged a redbull, his heart raced as he crushed the can in his hand. He looked at himself in the mirror of his bathroom, dark circles around his eyes from where he hadn’t slept. He sighed as he brushed his teeth, his mind still trying to figure out what he was going to say to Wren.

Zane put on his favorite truey jeans, his black new rocks and a random black metal tshirt that he was unable to tell was clean or not. He sat at his desk and opened his instagram again, Wren was active he saw, so he opened a new DM with him.

“Long time no see, talk to me. xo, Zane.” he sighed and sent it, short and sweet, he closed his phone and threw it at the wall. Zane groaned as his heart tightened, what if he wouldn’t see it? Oh well, worth a try, Zane thought.

-

Wren was doodling in his notebook some new lyrics, but his mind got distracted as his phone dinged. He opened the new notification, it was Zane. His eyes rolled as he looked at the text. In Zane fashion, it was short and clear to the point. “talk to me” he repeated in his head. Wren sighed and sat his phone down, is this worth it? They hadn’t spoken to each other for so long.

Wren had gotten distant with Zane, he was jealous of the music, and he wanted Zane to himself. It was no surprise that Wren was gay, he always knew that, and if he wanted anyone in the world, he wanted Zane. Sometimes he thought he physically needed Zane, but the fear of rejection and loosing his best friend, he walked away and gave up, giving up the idea they could be together. What if Zane wasn’t gay or made fun of him? His mind raced, but he was glad to finally hear from his old friend. He texted back, “meet me at our old spot, i’ll bring drinks. you just show up being you. we have some talking to do.” and sent it. Wren got up from his desk seat and grabbed his car keys.

-

Zane fell asleep halfway through making a new beat as his head popped up with a notification. His heart sank; it was Wren. He stumbled as he got up, still sleepy as he rushed out the door. Zane’s mind was racing, they definitely needed this conversation. He needed to make sure his old friend was okay and that he didn’t do anything wrong.

-

Wren saw Zane’s car pull up to the gate entrance of the forest, their old safe spot where all of their secrets were shared. Whatever happens in the forest, stays there, always between them, but this time was different. Wren waved at Zane as he stepped out of his 2011 Chevy Malibu. It was still the same after all these years, Wren couldn’t believe he still had it, let alone worked. It was a piece of shit when he got it, they used to get drunk in the back of it all the time back in their prime. Wren smiled as Zane came in for an embracing hug. The smell of his cigarettes and cologne clung to Zane, warming up Wren’s heart with how intoxicating it was.

“So, what happened? It’s been so long,” Zane said warmly, his hand on the back of Wren’s neck.

Wren blushed softly as he heard Zane’s voice, like it was the first time he ever heard him speak. “You know, I appreciate you finally reaching out.”

“It would have been sooner, but I was just fearful that…I dunno, maybe it was something I did?” Zane played with Wren’s hair, it was soft and long, he looked into his eyes deeply.

Wren shook his head, “It was all me, maybe I thought you would notice sooner, but I knew you would come back. I just grew distant with everyone, and that came back to bite me in the ass, huh.”

Zane laughed, both men pulled away from their embrace. Zane coughed and pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and nodded towards the gate. “After you.” he said, pulling it open.

-

Wren and Zane found a place of peaceful silence; they sat on the dirt ground. Wren handed him a bottle of vodka for Zane to open, “Still don’t know how to open a goddamn bottle?” Zane chuckled as he opened the liquor, he poured it in a plastic cup and handed it to his friend.

“There’s something important I need to tell you, Z. You can walk away anytime, but you need to know…” Wren paused, looking at Zane who took a sip out of the vodka bottle, his face winced as the liquor tasted his tongue.

“Sure, you know I’d never judge you.” Zane looked in Wren’s eyes. Wren sat his cup down and moved closer to Zane, observing his face, how soft his cheeks looked. Wren thought about kissing them, how much he wanted to touch them with his thumbs, and his desire to touch and cup Zane’s face.

“Hello? Earth to Wren, what is up?” Wren was taken out of his trance and scooted over to Zane more.

“I’m not quite sure how to put this, but, Zane, the reason I stopped talking to you was because I was jealous. I didn’t want anyone else to have you, and you’re my best friend, so you should know the truth.” Wren closed his eyes and looked away, taking a long gulp of his vodka, the bitterness tasted his tongue.

“Wren, how come you never told me?” Zane grabbed his shoulder and turned his face around so both men were staring at each other.

“I was scared, I didn’t know if you would shut me out, so I did it myself.” tears swelled up in Wren’s eyes, Zane cupped his cheeks.

“Just shut up, Wren, you’re fucking ridiculous.” Zane smiled as he pressed his lips gently against Wren’s.

Wren’s eyes widened as Zane pulled away from the gentle kiss. “Wait, Z, come back…” Wren grabbed his shirt and pulled him closer, both men’s lips smashing into each other’s, hungry for more. Wren groaned softly, his lips parting slightly, making just enough room for Zane to shove his tongue in, both their tongues crashing into each other. Their hunger and desire grew stronger for each other, Zane pulled away first, holding Wren’s wrists, their hot breath on each other.

“Wren, you’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” Zane said in between hot breathes. Wren put a finger over his lip and pulled Zane closer.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” he smiled, “I love you very much.” Wren pulled Zane in for a passionate kiss, their lips crashing into each other’s, full of love and lust.

Zane ran his hands through Wren’s hair, moving his kiss down on his neck, sucking softly. Wren moaned quietly under his heavy breathing. He moved Zane’s slightly greasy hair out of his face, the both of them stared at each other with hungry eyes.

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” Zane asked.

“I’m not sure, I’m positive.” Wren said, sliding his hands down his waistband, his happy trail exposed. Zane touched the hairs gently with the tips of his fingers. He took Wren’s shirt off and kissed his collarbone, grabbing his waist with a tight grip, the other hand struggling to take his belt off.

Wren bit his bottom lip, his hands shaking as he took Zane’s hand off his waist and onto his throbbing bulge. Zane’s eyes widened, he never felt another guy’s cock before, his hand wrapped around it tightly while his fingers gently rubbed it. His mind was full of lust and he could tell Wren was packing at least seven inches. That was way bigger than him, Zane’s dick wasn’t small, just average five maybe 6 inches. He bit his lip at the thought of Wren being bigger than him, it turned him on more than the kissing did.

“Give me your cutter.” Zane demanded.

Wren knew better than to ask any questions and reached into his pocket to find his cutter and handed it to Zane. His eyes lit up as Wren handed it to him. Zane pinned Wren back down on the harsh ground, taking the blade to Wren’s chest carving a Z shape. Wren winced in pain, the heat of the blood dripped down his chest. Once Zane was done, he kissed Wren on the forehead.

“Now, you’ll remember this, baby, you’ll take me everywhere you go.” Zane hissed lustfully, he kissed his carving and licked the blood off his lips. He pulled him and Wren back to his feet, finally ripping Wren of the last bit of clothing he had on. Wren stood in front of Zane in his boxers and boots, he reached his arms out and wrapped them around Zane’s neck, leaving hickeys. Zane groaned and held Wren closer to his body.

“Your noises are so beautiful, Z.” Wren bit and sucked at Zane’s neck. One hand trailed down into Zane’s jeans, feeling his hard cock throb against his boxers. Wren dropped to his knees, “Uh, may I?” he asked.

Zane nodded and fumbled with his zipper, stripping his boxers off and his cock springing free, leaky with precum. Wren took his tip into his mouth, licking the slit with the tip of his tongue.

“Fuck...” Zane moaned, grabbing his hair and shoving himself fully inside of Wren’s hot and warm mouth. Wren choked on his dick, his nose pressed against Zane’s pubic hair, slobber dripped from his mouth. He looked so pretty while sucking Zane off, something so beautiful about looking like a needy slut, Zane’s mind raced. He smiled and pushed his head again, roughly, Wren gagged loudly as Zane’s cock hit the back of his throat. Zane moaned at the vibrations of his gag, sending shock waves of pleasure all over his body.

“Keep going, baby, ugh, I’m so close,” Zane gripped Wren’s hair. Wren moaned as Zane spoke, which only made him closer to his orgasm. Wren pulled away, standing up, pulling his own boxers down and his cock sprung free. Zane turned him around and pinned him against a tree, his fingers sliding into his mouth then his hole. Wren gasped, feeling one of Zane’s fingers slide into him, stretching him out.

“You like that feeling?” Zane slapped Wren’s ass, hard, as he slid a second finger inside. Wren moaned loudly, turning his head around to look at Zane, he nodded. Zane smiled and spat in his hand, rubbing the spit on his shaft, before lining himself up to Wren’s hole. Zane placed another slap to Wren’s ass and slid himself inside hard. His cock throbbing with a much-needed climax, he pounded into Wren’s ass. Wren moaned loudly as he felt Zane’s rough thrusts, jerking himself off to each one.

Zane gripped Wren’s hips, his nails digging into them as he continued his rough thrusts. He moaned as his climax built. “Wren, can I cum in you?”

Wren turned around, “Yes, please, I need you to.”

Zane smacked Wren’s ass harder, leaving a red stinging handprint.

“Sorry, sweetie, what was that?”

Wren moaned, “Fuck, yes, yes, please Zane, I absolutely need you to.”

Zane’s thrusts got progressively rougher, his nails dug into Wren’s sides. Both of them couldn’t control their orgasms, Zane unleashed his hot liquid inside Wren’s ass as Wren cum into his fist, causing both men to start groaning.

Zane pulled himself out of Wren and grabbed his hand, “Was it good for my first time?” he asked licking the salty cum off Wren’s hand.

“Did I finish?” he giggled, putting both their clothes on, both men were sweaty and tired, and the sun had started to set.

“Wren, I think you’re beautiful, would you like to come get drunk in the back of my car? Like old times?” Zane asked, kissing Wren on the forehead.

song: life is a bitch n i hate her by witchbox

all credits to pinterest for pictures!

────۶ৎ────

* Ticci Toby constantly fights between wanting people close to him and wanting everyone to leave him alone. One minute he’s hovering around you, talking too loud and too fast, and the next he’s snapping because he thinks you looked at him wrong.

* His tics get worse when he’s stressed, angry, overstimulated, or embarrassed. If someone points them out or mocks him, his mood crashes almost instantly and he becomes defensive and aggressive. He hates feeling “out of control” in front of people.

* He has fluffy brown hair that’s always messy no matter what he does with it. The mullet style started because he hacked at it himself with kitchen scissors one night after a breakdown, and now he refuses to change it because it “looks cool enough.”

* When he’s actually in a good mood, he’s almost unbearably clingy and friendly. He’ll follow people around the house talking nonstop, rambling about random things, bumping shoulders with you, shoving memes or music in your face, and acting like a hyper little gremlin.

* He gets attached to people very intensely, but he’s terrible at expressing it in healthy ways. Instead of saying he cares, he’ll aggressively insist on helping you, threaten anyone who upsets you, or hover nearby like an angry guard dog.

* Toby absolutely loses his temper when things don’t go the way he planned. If something small ruins his mood, for example, losing a game, dropping something, plans changing unexpectedly and he spirals fast. He’ll yell, pace, slam doors, or throw these angry spasms that look half tantrum and half meltdown.

* Underneath all the anger, he’s actually very emotionally sensitive. Insults stick with him for way longer than he admits, and he overthinks every negative interaction afterward.

* He listens to loud music constantly because silence makes his thoughts worse. His headphones are practically glued to him, and he blasts chaotic music when he’s irritated to drown everything else out.

* He’s the type to aggressively demand affection without admitting he wants it. Like barging into your room and flopping beside you while grumbling, “Move over,” because he secretly wants comfort.

* Toby’s sweet side only really comes out when he feels safe and in control of the situation. If things are calm and nobody’s arguing with him, he becomes weirdly caring and likes bringing you snacks, fixing things for you, checking if you’ve eaten, or sitting beside you quietly while you rest.

* He gets frustrated with himself after angry outbursts. Even if he refuses to apologize directly, you can tell he feels guilty because he suddenly becomes quieter and awkwardly tries to make up for it by doing favors.

* He has awful sleep habits. He stays awake until ridiculous hours, then crashes randomly during the day. Most nights he’s pacing around the house at 3 AM with messy hair and dark circles under his eyes.

* Physical affection confuses him because he wants it constantly but doesn’t know how to ask. He acts annoyed when someone hugs him, but if they pull away too quickly he immediately gets irritated about it.

* He’s very protective over the few people he trusts. If someone hurts them emotionally, Toby takes it personally and holds grudges for an absurdly long time.

song: easter pink by fakemink

credits to pinterest for pictures!

────۶ৎ────

* BEN Drowned constantly smells like artificial fruit vape juice, old hoodies, and stale energy drinks. His room is pitch black except for LED lights and the glow of three different monitors running at once.

* He absolutely destroys his sleep schedule. He’ll stay awake for two days straight grinding some random horror mod or speedrunning an old game, then crash for 14 hours without warning.

* His long greasy blonde hair is always in his face because he refuses to cut it. Half the time he just shoves it under a beanie instead of washing it.

* He’s the type to disappear into his room for hours, then randomly emerge at 3 AM to microwave something questionable and scare everyone in the hallway because nobody heard him coming.

* His desk is a disaster zone: empty Geek Bar boxes, Mountain Dew cans, tangled cords, game controllers, and probably at least one broken headset he swears he’s “gonna fix later.”

* Music-wise he bounces between distorted grunge and loud electronic stuff with heavy bass. He likes music that sounds messy and aggressive because he says calm music “makes his skin itch.”

* He makes provocative comments constantly just to get reactions out of people. Sometimes it’s flirting, sometimes it’s just him being a menace because he thinks embarrassment is funny.

* When he’s high he gets way more talkative and clingy. Normally he’s sarcastic and detached, but stoned BEN will ramble for an hour straight about conspiracy theories, obscure game lore, or why some random early 2000s song is “life changing.”

* He’s chronically online and somehow knows every internet drama before anyone else. He acts like he doesn’t care but secretly lives for chaos.

* He has terrible posture from hunching over his computer for years. If he’s sitting somewhere, he’s folded into the most uncomfortable-looking position imaginable.

* He’s weirdly competitive over stupid things. Doesn’t matter if it’s Mario Kart, rhythm games, or rock-paper-scissors and if he loses, he takes it personally.

* He never opens his curtains. Ever. The sunlight hits his eyes and he acts like he’s a vampire turning to dust.

* He lowkey enjoys seeing people flustered by him. The smug grin he gets after saying something out of pocket is unbearable.

song: trapdoor by salem

credits to pinterest for pictures!

────۶ৎ────

* He’s the kind of person who fills a room without trying. At almost seven feet tall, Jack barely has to speak for people to know he’s there. Heavy footsteps, broad shoulders, silent staring, he carries this constant predator energy that makes people instinctively lower their voices around him.

* Jack almost never talks unless he absolutely has to. When he does, his voice is rough and low from disuse, usually only a few words at a time. He prefers actions over explanations. If he cares about someone, he’ll prove it through protection, bringing them things, lingering nearby, fixing something without being asked, not through emotional speeches.

* He has a horrible habit of looming over people silently. Half the time he doesn’t even realize how intimidating he is until someone jumps when they turn around and he’s standing directly behind them.

* The tar leaking from his eyes is constant. Thick, black streaks crawl down his face and neck no matter how often he wipes them away. It stains pillowcases, shirt collars, hands, everything. Sometimes when he’s angry or hungry, it leaks faster. Stress makes it worse too.

* His fluffy brown hair would actually look soft and nice if he took care of it, but he barely bothers washing it. It’s usually tangled, messy, and smells faintly metallic and smoky. Some strands stick to the tar around his eyes and he’ll aggressively shove them back without much thought.

* He bites constantly. Not even always aggressively, sometimes it’s instinctive. Sharp teeth dragging against knuckles, shoulders, necks, whatever’s closest. His canines are unnaturally long and serrated enough to leave deep bruises or split skin easily. He especially bites when he’s overstimulated, territorial, jealous, or trying to show affection in his own feral way.

* His nails are thick, dark, and claw-like from years of neglect and mutation. They click against walls and tabletops when he’s irritated. He sharpens them absentmindedly on concrete or wood like an animal filing down claws.

* His body is covered in scars. Old surgical-looking cuts, jagged tears, claw marks, burns, layers and layers of damage. Some scars are pale and healed, others look raw like they never fully closed. He hates people staring at them, but he also refuses to cover them up most of the time because clothes annoy him.

* Jack’s cannibalistic cravings are something he treats more like a biological necessity than a hobby. He doesn’t romanticize it. It’s ugly, violent, and deeply ingrained into him. Hunger changes his entire demeanor, quieter, twitchier, more aggressive. His pupils dilate heavily and he starts watching people the way wolves watch prey.

* Despite how detached he acts, he gets intensely possessive over the few people he tolerates. Not in a loud way, more subtle and unsettling. Standing too close. Watching conversations from across the room. Resting a clawed hand on the back of someone’s chair as a silent warning to others.

* He’s surprisingly gentle with injuries. Probably because he understands pain better than most people. If someone he cares about gets hurt, he becomes laser-focused and oddly careful, cleaning wounds with huge clawed hands that look like they should be incapable of softness.

* Jack rarely sleeps properly. He spends most nights sitting somewhere dark and elevated, for instance, rooftops, counters, abandoned stairwells, silently observing everything around him. When he does sleep, it’s light and restless. One small sound and he’s awake instantly.

* Physical affection from him is rare but heavy. Leaning his weight against someone, wrapping an arm around them possessively, pressing his forehead to theirs, hooking claws loosely into their clothes so they don’t walk away too fast. He’s not verbally affectionate at all, so touch becomes his language.

* He smells like rain, blood, damp fabric, smoke, and something rotting underneath it all. The scent clings to rooms after he leaves.

* Animals react strangely to him. Dogs either growl immediately or become weirdly submissive. Cats tend to stare at him without fear. Crows and stray animals follow him around sometimes because he unintentionally feeds them leftovers.

song: still achin by sematary

credits to pinterest for pictures

────۶ৎ────

* Jeff acts like he’s above everyone else, but it’s mostly because his ego is stitched together with insecurity. If somebody insults him, even as a joke, he’ll obsess over it for days and make passive aggressive comments until he “wins” the interaction in his head.

* Jeff smells like cigarette smoke, old leather jackets, sweat, and cheap cologne he uses way too much to cover it up. His room is worse, empty energy drink cans, band posters peeling off the walls, clothes everywhere, and a guitar sitting in the corner with broken strings he swears he’s “gonna fix later.”

* Jeff’s hair is long, black, tangled, and constantly in his face. He pretends not to care about how it looks, but secretly spends forever making sure it falls the right way. If someone touches it unexpectedly, he either freezes up or snaps at them depending on his mood.

* Jeff is the type of metalhead that gatekeeps bands constantly. If you mention liking one of his favorite groups, he immediately starts quizzing you on albums and songs like it’s a competition. His playlist consists of Misfits, Nailbomb, Acid Bath, Cryptopsy and sometimes Lil Peep.

* Jeff gets jealous ridiculously easily. If he likes someone, he notices everything, including who talks to them, who looks at them too long, who texts them too often. He won’t outright admit he’s jealous though. Instead he acts cold, possessive, or starts hovering around them more aggressively.

* Jeff hates feeling ignored. If you’re busy or don’t answer him fast enough, he spirals into annoyance and assumes you’re intentionally brushing him off. Then when you do answer, he acts like he doesn’t care even though he absolutely does.

* Jeff has this habit of standing too close to people on purpose. Part intimidation tactic, part clinginess. He likes making people nervous because it makes him feel in control of the interaction.

* Jeff is weirdly protective despite acting cruel half the time. If somebody outside his circle messes with someone he cares about, he becomes way more threatening than usual. He sees people as “his,” and once he’s attached, he takes loyalty very seriously.

* Jeff’s terrible at apologizing. Instead of saying “sorry,” he’ll do small things instead: silently sitting next to you, handing you something you mentioned wanting, glaring at anybody bothering you. In his mind, actions matter more than words.

* Jeff absolutely thrives off attention. Compliment him once and he’ll pretend it means nothing while internally replaying it for the next six months. Insult him once and he’ll remember it forever.

* Even though he acts intimidating constantly, Jeff is secretly dramatic as hell. Slamming doors, blasting music after arguments, staring out windows like he’s in a music video, he fully commits to the angst.

* Jeff’s possessive in subtle ways too. Borrowing your hoodie and never giving it back, putting his arm around you in crowded places, interrupting conversations because he wants your focus on him instead.

* Jeff pretends he doesn’t care what people think, but honestly? Half of his personality is built around trying to look untouchable. Underneath all the arrogance and control issues, he’s terrified of looking weak.

────۶ৎ────

HEY!!! long time no see, i edited tim 😭 HAPPY NEW YEAR AND HAPPY FEBRUARY!!

so life gets in the way of writing and sometimes depression can slowly kick your butt, but IM FEELING BETTER!! probably gonna start working on some more fics soon, if i disappear again im not dead!!! i love and missed you guys SO MUCH! hope i am forgiven <3 STAY BEAUTIFUL!!!

p.s i made this edit please don’t steal it, if you do please give me credit.

CW: NSFW, slight blood warning, sex in rosswood, passionate, slight choking

Word Count: 1,115

A/N: hi guys, im still dealing with some issues behind the scenes but all is well. hopefully this fills some space?

You find yourself wandering through the dense Rosswood Forest, the sun filtering through the canopy above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air is thick with the scent of pine and earth, and the only sounds are the distant calls of birds and the crunch of leaves under your feet. Suddenly, you notice a strange, rusty stain on a nearby tree trunk. It's blood, you realize with a jolt of panic. Your heart races as you follow the trail of blood deeper into the forest, the trees growing denser and more oppressive with each step.

As you round a bend, you see a figure standing in a small clearing. It's Alex Kralie, his back turned to you. He seems to be examining something on the ground. You approach cautiously, your footsteps muffled by the thick undergrowth. As you get closer, you see that he's looking at a small, bloody handprint on a rock.

"Alex?" you call out, your voice barely above a whisper. He turns to face you, his eyes dark and intense. There's a mix of relief and frustration in his expression.

"Thank god you're here," he says, his voice tight. "I've been looking for you. We need to stick together out here."

You nod, feeling a surge of both comfort and unease at his words. He takes your hand, his grip firm and reassuring, and leads you deeper into the forest. As you walk, you can't help but notice the way his muscles tense beneath his clothing, the way his jaw clenches as if he's holding back a storm of emotions.

The trail of blood leads you to a small, hidden cave. Alex pulls you inside, the darkness enveloping you. You can hear the distant drip of water and the rustle of unseen creatures. Alex's hand finds yours in the dark, his touch grounding you.

"We need to rest," he says, his voice low and gruff. "It's not safe out there."

You settle down on the cold ground, leaning against him. His body is warm and solid, a comfort in the unsettling darkness. As you sit there, you can feel the tension in him, the way his body is coiled tight, ready to spring at any moment.

"What's wrong, Alex?" you ask softly, your hand resting on his arm.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his body trembling slightly. "It's just... everything. This place, the blood, the unknown. It's too much."

You feel a surge of empathy and something more, a deep yearning to ease his pain. You lean in, your lips brushing against his cheek. He turns to face you, his eyes searching yours in the dim light. There's a moment of hesitation, a silent question, before his mouth crashes down on yours, hungry and desperate.

His hands tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue explores your mouth. You can taste the salt of his sweat, the faint metallic tang of blood. The kiss is fierce, a battle of wills and desires, and you match him stroke for stroke, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly.

He pulls away suddenly, his breath ragged. "I need you," he growls, his voice rough with need. "I need to feel you, to know you're real."

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. He pushes you gently onto the ground, his body covering yours. His hands roam over your curves, tracing the lines of your body as if committing them to memory. You arch into his touch, your body aching with desire.

He tears at your clothes, his movements frantic and desperate. You help him, your fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers until you're both bare, your skin pressing against each other. His mouth finds yours again, his kisses deep and consuming, stealing your breath.

His hands are everywhere, exploring, teasing, driving you mad with need. You can feel his hardness pressing against you, the promise of what's to come. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer, deeper.

He groans, a sound of pure need, and shifts his hips, positioning himself at your entrance. With one swift thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely. You cry out, the sensation overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping.

He starts to move, his hips thrusting in a relentless rhythm. Each stroke is deep and powerful, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision blur. You can feel the tension building, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each movement.

His hands find your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. The sensation is intense, a rush of endorphins that heightens every nerve ending. You can feel your orgasm building, the pressure almost too much to bear.

"Alex," you moan, your voice hoarse with need. "Please, don't stop."

He increases his pace, his hips slamming against yours, his fingers tightening around your throat. The world narrows down to this moment, this feeling, the two of you lost in a sea of pleasure and desperation.

You orgasm with a cry, your body convulsing around him, waves of pleasure crashing over you. He follows soon after, his body tensing as he spills his hot seed inside you, his groan of release echoing in the small cave.

He collapses on top of you, his body slick with sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your chest.

As you lie there, the world slowly comes back into focus. The drip of water, the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of birds. You realize that, despite the blood and the unknown, you feel safe in his arms. You feel like you've found a piece of yourself that you didn't know was missing.

Alex lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours. There's a softness there, a vulnerability that makes your heart ache. He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tender kiss.

"Thank you," he whispers, his voice hoarse with emotion. "For being here, for being you."

You smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Always," you reply softly. "I'll always be here."

CW: NSFW, slight cnc, public, angst, forest sex, dominance

Word Count: 1,344

A/N: hi, another short one today, been dealing with a massive stomachache and feeling a little tired. big stuff coming soon.

The forest was dense and dark, the musty fog clinging to your skin as you walked deeper into the unknown. The moonlight barely pierced the canopy, casting eerie shadows that danced around you. You were lost, and the only sound was the crunch of leaves under your feet and the distant hoot of an owl. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, imposing silhouette with a familiar gait. It was Ticci Toby, his eyes glinting with a mix of anger and something more primal.

"Toby?" you called out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He stopped, his back still turned to you. "What are you doing here?" he growled, his voice laced with frustration.

"I... I got lost," you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. "I didn't mean to intrude."

Toby turned to face you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. "You always do this, don't you? Show up when you're not wanted."

You took a step back, feeling the sting of his words. "Toby, I'm sorry. I just—"

"Just what?" he interrupted, taking a step closer. "You think you can just wander into my world and everything will be okay?"

You shook your head, feeling a lump form in your throat. "No, I—"

Before you could finish, Toby closed the distance between you, his hand gripping your chin tightly. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he muttered, his thumb brushing against your lip.

You couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement mixed with fear. "Toby, please—"

"Please what?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "Please stop? Please continue?"

You couldn't answer, your mind racing with a mix of emotions. Toby's grip on your chin tightened, and he forced your head back, exposing your neck. His lips found your pulse point, and he bit down gently, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You're playing with fire, you know that?" he murmured against your skin. "You should be careful what you wish for."

You let out a soft moan, your body betraying you as it pressed against his. Toby's hand moved from your chin to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it tightly. He walked you backward until your back hit a tree, the rough bark digging into your skin.

"Toby," you gasped, your eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire.

He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above yours. "What do you want from me?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.

You hesitated, your mind racing. "I... I want you," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

Toby's eyes flashed with something primal, and he crushed his lips against yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, exploring and claiming, while his hand remained wrapped around your throat, controlling your every breath.

You moaned into his mouth, your hands gripping his shoulders as you kissed him back with equal ferocity. Toby's other hand roamed your body, squeezing and caressing as he explored every curve. He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, biting and sucking as he marked you.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice laced with possession. "Do you understand?"

You nodded, your body aching with need. "Yes, Toby. I'm yours."

He spun you around, pressing your chest against the tree as he ground his hard length against your ass. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples through your clothes. You arched your back, pressing into his touch, desperate for more.

Toby's hand moved to your waist, his fingers deftly unbuckling your belt and unbuttoning your pants. He pushed them down, along with your underwear, exposing your bare ass to the cool night air. His hand came down on your cheek with a sharp smack, the sting sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "I want to see you on your knees, begging for my cock."

You turned to face him, your eyes meeting his as you slowly sank to your knees. The forest floor was damp and cold, but you barely noticed, your focus solely on Toby. You reached for his belt, your hands trembling as you unbuckled it and pushed his pants down, freeing his hard cock.

Toby's hand tangled in your hair, guiding your head forward as you took him into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the sensitive tip, tasting the salty pre-cum that beaded at the slit. He groaned, his hips bucking as you took him deeper, your mouth stretching to accommodate his size.

"You're so good at that," he praised, his voice laced with approval. "Keep going, don't stop."

You bobbed your head, taking him deeper with each pass, your saliva coating his length as you sucked and licked. Toby's grip on your hair tightened, his hips moving in sync with your movements as he fucked your mouth.

"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his voice rough with pleasure. "Just like that. Take it all."

You relaxed your throat, taking him as deep as you could, your nose brushing against his pubic bone. Toby's hips stuttered, and he pulled back, his cock slipping from your mouth with a wet pop.

"Stand up," he commanded, his voice firm. "I want to see you."

You rose to your feet, your body trembling with anticipation. Toby's eyes roamed your body, taking in every inch of you. He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of your breast before pinching your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"You're so fucking wet for me," he murmured, his hand moving down to cup your pussy. "I can feel your heat from here."

You moaned, your hips bucking against his hand as he teased your clit with his fingers. Toby's other hand wrapped around your throat, his grip tight as he forced your head back, exposing your neck to him.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he growled, his voice laced with dominance. "And you're going to take every inch of me, aren't you?"

You nodded, your body aching with need. "Yes, Toby. Please."

He spun you around, pressing your chest against the tree as he kicked your legs apart. You felt the head of his cock press against your entrance, and you pushed back, impaling yourself on him with a single thrust.

"Fuck!" you cried out, your body stretching to accommodate his size. "Toby, you're so big."

He gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he began to move. Each thrust was deep and powerful, his hips slapping against your ass as he claimed you. You moaned, your body meeting his thrusts as you chased your pleasure.

Toby's hand moved to your clit, his fingers rubbing and teasing as he fucked you. You cried out, your body on the edge of orgasm as he pushed you higher and higher.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "I want to feel you come all over my cock."

You screamed, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashed over you. Toby's grip on your hips tightened, and he thrust into you once, twice more before stilling, his cock pulsing as he came deep inside you.

You collapsed against the tree, your body spent and sated. Toby pulled out, his cum dripping down your thighs as he turned you to face him. He cupped your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he looked into your eyes.

"You're mine," he murmured, his voice soft. "Always remember that."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I won't forget, Toby. I promise."

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before pulling back. "Good. Now, let's get you out of here. It's late, and you need to rest."

TW: BLOOD!!

CW: NSFW, implied cannibalism, biting, knife play, bondage???, abandoned after sex, fear play

Word Count: 1,423

A/N: hi everyone, happy kinktober! i have never done one of these before as im a new writer but hopefully day one goes well! thank you everyone for being patient with me, im trying to push out some new content but im busy with school and that sucks. hopefully i can get done with my school stuff by the end of this month? maybe..we shall see. stay tuned though, ive got some great ideas for the next couple days! thank you!

You wake up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of decay and something else—something metallic. As your vision adjusts, you realize you're in an abandoned hospital room. The walls are peeling, and the floor is stained with what you hope is just old paint. Your arms are restrained, strapped to a cold metal bed. Panic surges through you, but before you can scream, a figure emerges from the shadows.

Eyeless Jack stands over you, his form towering and menacing. His eyes are blank, empty sockets, yet there's an intensity in his presence that sends shivers down your spine. He leans in close, his breath hot against your ear.

"Welcome back," he whispers, his voice a low growl. "I've been waiting for you."

Before you can react, he moves between your legs, his hands rough and demanding as they hike up your skirt. You try to struggle, but the restraints hold you fast. His fingers are cold as they brush against your inner thigh, and you can't help the gasp that escapes your lips.

"Shh," he murmurs, his touch moving higher. "Let me take care of you."

His head dips, and you feel his breath against your most intimate place. Then, without warning, his tongue flicks out, tasting you. You arch against the restraints, a moan tearing from your throat. His mouth is hungry, devouring you with a fervor that borders on desperation. You can feel his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, the slight sting of his bites sending waves of pleasure and pain through your body.

He pulls back, his lips glistening, and you see the faint red marks left by his teeth. A shiver of anticipation runs through you as he reaches for a knife, the blade glinting in the dim light. He runs the flat of the blade along your thigh, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of his touch.

"Trust me," he says, his voice low and hypnotic. "I know what you need."

He presses the blade against your skin, just enough to break the surface. You hiss in pain, but it quickly turns to pleasure as he leans down, licking the bead of blood that wells up. His eyes, though empty, seem to burn into yours, and you find yourself unable to look away.

He continues his exploration, the knife and his mouth working in tandem, leaving a trail of bites and shallow cuts. Each one sends a jolt of sensation through you, your body aching with need. You can feel the wetness between your legs, the throbbing of your clit, and you know he can sense your arousal.

Suddenly, he sits up, his movements fluid and predatory. He undoes his belt, the sound of leather against leather echoing in the silent room. You watch, breathless, as he frees himself, his cock hard and ready. He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours.

"Ready?" he asks, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

You nod, your heart racing. He pushes into you, filling you completely. You cry out, the sensation overwhelming. He begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours, the metal of the bed frame creaking with each forceful stroke. The knife is still in his hand, and he uses it to tease your skin, the threat of its edge adding an extra sense of danger to your pleasure.

His bites become more insistent, his teeth sinking into your flesh with each thrust. You can feel the blood pooling under your skin, the warmth of it mixing with the heat of your arousal. He leans down, capturing your nipple in his mouth, biting down hard. You scream, the pain and pleasure mingling into a heady cocktail that leaves you dizzy.

He continues to fuck you, his pace relentless. The knife darts out, tracing patterns on your skin, the threat of deeper cuts always there, always tantalizing. You can feel your orgasm building, your body coiled tight and ready to snap.

"Come for me," he growls, his voice rough with need. "Let me feel you come all over my cock."

And you do. You shatter, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crash over you. He follows soon after, his release hot and deep inside you. He collapses on top of you, his breath ragged, his body slick with sweat.

As you lie there, panting and sated, he pulls back, a satisfied smile on his face. He runs a finger along the cuts he's made, collecting the blood. He brings it to his lips, tasting you once more.

And with that, he disappears into the shadows, leaving you alone in the abandoned hospital, your body marked and aching, your mind a whirl of pleasure and pain.

You lie there on the cold metal bed, your body still throbbing from the intense encounter, when suddenly, the door creaks open. Eyeless Jack steps back into the room, his presence even more menacing than before. His eyes, though empty, seem to bore into you, and you can sense a new hunger in him—a hunger for more than just your body.

"Did you think I was done with you?" he asks, his voice a low, dangerous growl. "Oh no, my dear. We're just getting started."

He approaches the bed, his movements predatory and deliberate. You try to shrink back, but the restraints hold you fast. He leans over you, his breath hot on your face, and you can see the faint glint of a knife in his hand.

"Let's play a game," he murmurs, his lips curling into a smirk. "A game of pain and pleasure. Of life and death."

He runs the blade along your arm, the metal cold and unyielding. You flinch, but he holds you steady, his grip like a vice. The knife presses deeper, and you feel the sting of the cut, the warm trickle of blood.

"Beautiful," he whispers, his tongue darting out to lick the blood from the blade. "So sweet and tempting."

He continues to cut, each slice precise and deliberate. You cry out, the pain sharp and all-consuming. But with each cut, he leans down, his mouth capturing yours in a fierce, demanding kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting you, claiming you. The contrast between the pain and the pleasure leaves you dizzy, your body aching with need.

He moves lower, his knife tracing patterns on your stomach, your thighs. Each cut is a new sensation, a new wave of pain and pleasure. You can feel your body responding, your nipples hardening, your clit throbbing. He notices, a dark chuckle escaping his lips.

"Such a responsive little thing," he murmurs, his fingers brushing against your sensitive flesh. "Let's see how far we can push you."

He increases the intensity, his cuts deeper, his bites harder. You can feel the blood pooling, the warmth of it seeping onto the metal bed, loud drops of blood hitting the floor. He leans down, his mouth capturing your breast, his teeth sinking into your flesh.

He moves between your legs, his cock hard and ready. He enters you with a single, forceful thrust, filling you completely. You cry out, the sensation overwhelming. His movements become more aggressive and angry as he pounds into you, filling and stretching your sensitive skin. You whine in pain, unable to move or shift. Jack’s teeth are sharp as they continue to bite down into your skin, hard and painful.

You can feel your orgasm building, your body coiled tight and ready to snap. Jack growls and digs his nails deep into your shoulder, gripping at your flesh, becoming blood hungry as he thrusts into you faster. You scream in pain as your legs shake in pleasure as you come to your orgasm. Jack looks up at you with his empty black eyes, and pulls out of you roughly, not before cumming inside of you. He growls at you once again as he jumps down from the bed, pulling himself back together. You shake in fear, as you watch him leave the room again.

CW: NSFW, CNC, slapping, knife play with blood, extreme dominance, forest sex

Word Count: 1,393

A/N: HEY!! long time no write, but im back. sorry i couldn’t make this longer, im tired and trying to get done with school as fast as i can. i hope you enjoy this, i heard the girlies still yearn for the jeff and so do i. please blow up my inbox if anyone has any requests!!

You find yourself deep in the heart of a dense, foreboding forest, the canopy above blocking out most of the sunlight, casting dappled shadows across the uneven ground. The air is thick with the scent of pine and decay, a heady mix that makes your senses reel. You're not sure how you ended up here, but you know that Jeff is somewhere nearby, and the thought sends a shiver down your spine.

As you walk deeper into the woods, the sound of your own heartbeat fills your ears, a steady drumbeat of anticipation and fear. Suddenly, a rustling in the bushes startles you, and you spin around to see Jeff emerging from the shadows. His pale skin seems to glow in the dim light, and his eerie eyes bore into yours, pinning you in place.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he drawls, his voice low and dangerous. "A little lost girl in the big bad woods."

You try to back away, but your feet seem rooted to the spot. Jeff takes a step closer, his movements fluid and predatory. He reaches out, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist, and pulls you towards him. His other hand tangles in your hair, yanking your head back so that you're forced to look up at him.

"Please, Jeff," you whisper, your voice trembling. "Don't hurt me."

A slow, cruel smile spreads across his face, and he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Oh, I'm going to hurt you, little one. But you're going to love every second of it."

With a rough shove, he pushes you to the ground, your back hitting the damp earth with a thud. Jeff straddles you, his knees pinning your arms to your sides, and you can feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh. He leans down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck, and you cry out, the pain sharp and sudden.

Jeff's hand tangles in your hair again, yanking your head to the side as he continues to bite and suck at your neck, marking you as his. You can feel the warm trickle of blood down your skin, and the metallic scent fills your nostrils, making your head spin. His other hand roams your body, rough and demanding, squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipples until they ache.

You buck your hips, trying to dislodge him, but it only seems to spur him on. Jeff sits up, his hands going to his belt, and you watch, wide-eyed, as he slowly unbuckles it, the leather sliding through the loops with a soft hiss. He pulls it free, doubling it over in his hand, and you know what's coming.

The first strike of the belt across your thighs is like a brand, searing and intense. You cry out, the sound echoing through the forest, and Jeff smirks down at you, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. He strikes you again and again, the belt leaving fiery welts across your skin, and you writhe beneath him, your body on fire with pain and something else, something darker and more primal.

Jeff tosses the belt aside and reaches for his knife, the blade glinting in the dim light. He presses the flat of it against your throat, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of your skin, and you swallow hard, your pulse fluttering wildly beneath the blade.

"Be a good little slut and don't move," he murmurs, his voice a low purr. "Or I might just slip and cut that pretty throat of yours."

You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and Jeff smiles, his teeth sharp and white. He trails the knife down your body, the blade lightly scoring your skin, leaving thin red lines in its wake. You can feel the warmth of your own blood, the sticky wetness of it, and the sight of it seems to drive Jeff wild.

He tosses the knife aside and rips at your clothes, his movements rough and impatient. You're bare before him in seconds, your skin flushed and marked, and Jeff's eyes roam over your body, taking in every bruise and scrape, every drop of blood.

"Fuck, you're a mess," he growls, his voice thick with lust. "And I'm going to make you an even bigger one."

He reaches for his cock, stroking it slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, transfixed, as he works himself, his hand moving with a practiced ease. He leans down, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss, and you can taste the coppery tang of your own blood on his tongue.

Jeff reaches between your legs, his fingers rough and demanding as they probe and tease, spreading your wetness across your thighs. He thrusts two fingers into you, curling them to hit that sweet spot deep inside, and you moan, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please, Jeff," you beg, your voice a desperate whimper. "I need you inside me."

He smirks, his fingers stilling, and you cry out in protest. "Oh, you'll get me inside you, little one. But first, you're going to earn it."

He pulls his fingers free, bringing them to his mouth, and sucks them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. You watch, mesmerized, as he licks and sucks, tasting you, and the sight of it makes your core clench with need.

Jeff reaches for his knife again, and you tense, your breath catching in your throat. He presses the blade against your inner thigh, the point just piercing the skin, and you can feel the warm trickle of blood down your leg. He leans down, his tongue lapping at the wound, cleaning it, and the sensation is electric, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

He trails the knife up your body, the blade lightly scoring your skin, and you can feel the warmth of your own blood, the sticky wetness of it, and the sight of it seems to drive Jeff wild. He tosses the knife aside and straddles you, his cock pressing against your entrance, and you can feel the head of him, hot and hard, probing at your opening.

"Please, Jeff," you beg again, your voice a desperate plea. "Make me yours."

He smirks, his hips flexing, and he drives into you with a single, brutal thrust. You cry out, the sound torn from your throat, and Jeff stills, his cock pulsing inside you, stretching you, filling you.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groans, his voice a low growl. "And so wet. You love this, don't you? You love being my little fucktoy."

You nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps, and Jeff smiles, his teeth sharp and white. He begins to move, his hips snapping against yours, his cock driving into you with a relentless rhythm. You can feel every inch of him, the ridged length of his shaft, the thick head of his cock, and the sensation is overwhelming, pushing you to the brink of overload.

Jeff leans down, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your breast, and you cry out, the pain sharp and sudden. He sucks and bites, marking you, claiming you, and the sensation is electric, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core. You can feel your orgasm building, your body coiling tight, and Jeff seems to sense it, his movements becoming more erratic, more demanding.

His fingers reach for your clit, they’re rough and demanding as they touch you teasingly and you can feel the pressure building, the sensation of too much, of overstimulation. You buck your hips, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

"Cum for me, little one," he murmurs, his voice a low purr. "Let me feel that tight little cunt milk my cock."

You cry out, your body convulsing as your orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure washing through you, leaving you boneless and spent. Jeff groans, his hips stuttering, and you can feel the hot pulse of his release, the warm spill of his seed deep inside you.