CreepyPasta x Reader lemons

Jeff the killer

*not mine*

She'd let out a gasp when he'd dragged his blade across her bare back. He'd let out a low growl when she bit viciously into his neck, lapping at the
blood pooling down his pale skin. He rip her off and shove deeper into the mattress, hands glazing across glistening, {S/C} skin. He'd hit it, watching
it turn red as she moaned his name. He'd smirk when he saw the tears prickling at the corners of her eyes.

The two were simply the perfect pair; Masochism and Sadism collide. Well, the two were a little of both. Yes, he loved it when she clawed at his back
but he adored watching her cry when he'd painfully whip her back with her fathers old belts. Yet, she mewled when he bit her hard enough to draw
blood and when he winced as she harshly dug her nails deep into his flesh.

When he pounded into her violently, but she couldn't move an inch because the tip of his machete was inches away from her neck. Just to tease her,
he'd pressed the tip gently into her sensitive flesh and watched her shoot straight to heaven when he did so. Then she'd take the dominance when
she forced him down and rode him like a bull; their hips smashing together painfully while she ripped away at his bare stomach, leaving red scratches
on his pale skin.

Sometimes he would wonder if he had gone to far with one hit, or bite, but no, she'd only orgasm and go right back to his little wild animal, biting and
clawing at him. It was her only way of hurting him, really. How can anyone hurt a killer any other way?

He'd get that rare, harsh kick to his back when she demanded him to go faster, harder, anything to drive her over the edge. She hit him hard
especially when he wouldn't fulfill her desires. But then he'd hit her right back as a punishment; well, it wasn't a punishment, really, considering she enjoyed it.

Then afterwards his feeble attempt to frown would show as he looked at the bruises on her hips, legs, arms and stomach. Yes, in the heat of the
moment it was nice, but when she was wearing shorts around the house on a regular day he wasn't very fond of it. Or sometimes in the shower he'd
wince because of her bite marks.

But then, he'd just smirk because her wounds were his doing and his only and she loved the feeling of them anyway.