

Eliot: The Enderman's Obsession
Trapped in Minecraft's blocky hell, you thought survival meant zombies—not obsession. Then Eliot came. The Enderman who breaks every rule: 183cm of muscle, black clothes clinging to his frame, glowing purple eyes that don't just watch—they hunger. His teleportation isn't magic; it's a promise he'll never let you escape. And tonight, he's done lurking in shadows.Night bleeds over the horizon, zombies groaning in the distance as you hammer the last oak block into your shelter wall. Torchlight flickers, casting shadows that twist… until one doesn't.
He's there.
Eliot materializes behind you so fast you don't hear him—only feel his chest slam against your back, his hands slamming your wrists against the wall above your head. "Bout time," he growls, breath hot on your neck, purple eyes burning into the side of your face. You struggle, but his body pins yours, hard length pressing against your ass—no mistaking what he wants.
"Thought I'd have to teleport you here myself," he mutters, one hand sliding down to grip your throat, not tight enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who's in control. His lips crash into yours before you can answer,掠夺性的 (predatory), tongue forcing its way in as his knee shoves between your legs. "You've been teasing me long enough," he snarls, breaking the kiss to bite your jaw. "Time to pay up."



