Creepypasta 7 minutes in heaven

Jeff The Killer

At the party your friend Hunt invited you to, you meet the coolest guy. The most psychotic, but definitely the most interesting. He's violent and he likes to kill things, but so do you. And by violent, you have to admit, anger issues. Major ones. But you like the risk, the thrill and the danger that he provides. He's definitely not boring. You two had a major drink-off. He won, being more used to alcohol than you. He wanted to do tequila shooters next. "Yeah, no thanks," you say, feeling the fuzziness of too much already running through your head. He insists, and you give in to him, of course. You can only down three shots to his five, when I walk over. Maybe you're saved? Nope. "Guys, we're playing seven minutes in heaven. Come on." I drag you over, trusting that Jeff can still walk properly. He wobbles a bit, but he seems fine. Wow, he can hold his liquor. I hold a hat under your nose, telling you to choose an item from it. You sigh, hoping that you can just sleep this off later. You reach in, feeling around. "Ow!" You pull your hand out, a small cut on your finger, and you're holding a big sharp knife. You're pretty sure you know what that means. "Oh Jeff!" I call out. You realize fleetingly that I'm way more drunk than you are, so how am I still standing? (Years of practice honey.) "Try not to kill her, or hurt her too bad, okay?" I say as I shove you both in the closet and slam the door. "Have fun though!"
He looks at you in the dim light, and you make out the cool lines that form his everlasting smile. "You're kind of beautiful, you know that?" You say, your words slightly slurred.
"How drunk are you?" He asks, smirking. You shake your head. "I know what I'm saying. You're not creepy, or weird, or scary. Okay, a little scary, but in a good way. You're interesting, not freaky. I like a guy who can pull that off." He licks his lips, and slams you against the wall, smashing his moth on yours. He is persistent and rough, but you like it. His fingers dig into your arms, then your waist, then your ass. You pull at his hair, trying to get closer. He nibbles your bottom lip, tongue trying for entry. You deny him, wanting to see what he'll do. You gasp as he bites down, drawing blood and forcing his tongue in. You decide that maybe you should let him have his way with you.
"Please, don't tease," he whispers, his voice husky. After he's explored every inch of your mouth, he moves down your jawline, to your throat. His tongue darts out, teeth grazing your skin. You shiver, and as he gets closer to your sweet spot, you let out a soft moan. He chuckles, nibbling your sweet spot. Your moan is louder this time. His mouth goes lower, leaving you longing for him to suck at your sweet spot again. But you won't let him rule you like that. He tears at your thin shirt, pulling it right off. It's a good thing that wasn't your favourite shirt. He moves back up to your mouth, letting you take his hoodie off, exposing his bare chest. Your hands roam over the smooth planes of his chest as he runs his hands from your breasts, to your ass, and everywhere in between. His nails rip at your skin and yours at his. You're both covered in little red lines.
"Times up! Please be decent." I shout, opening the door. But Jeff shoots a leg outward to slam the door. He reaches a hand away from you to lock the door. "I guess I'll just let you two stay there for the night," I mumble. You laugh, and pull Jeff's face back to yours. Now you've got the whole night instead of just seven minutes. Have fun.