#Nail Art Addict
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quatresnuku · 2 years ago
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Here's all of the tokusatsu nails that I did this year. I am super proud of them
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vevaurela · 3 days ago
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on nailsies.
Nails “Life is not perfect but your nails can be.” https://www.myglamm.com/glammstudio/nail-art-quotes-for-manicure-pedicure-enthusiast background. I grew up with a mother who loves polishing her nails. She always had this long almond shaped nails that she filed herself. Then she will coat it with various colors neatly. Never too flashy, but it always looks good because she took care of it so…
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bizkaffee · 1 year ago
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Holiday Nails Art
Holiday Nails: The Ultimate Guide to Nail Art Equipment and Accessories by Barista pro Shop #HolidayNailArt #FestiveNails #NailArtInspiration #ChristmasNailDesigns #WinterNailTrends #NailArtAddict #SparklingNails #CreativeManicures #HolidayNailInspo #GlamorousNails #NailArtGoals #SeasonalNailDesigns Are you ready to rock the holiday season with dazzling nail art? Get your nails in the festive…
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meowcifer-nails · 4 months ago
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Here it is! My @palestaticexchange gift for @sweetsweetloverlover :)
He put "lungs & cigarettes & addiction symbolism 4ever" as preferences and no particular dislike so I just went purely off inspiration as I immediately had a "vision" of what I wanted it to look like.
I'm quite happy with how it turned out! I usually struggle a lot with human faces (I mostly draw animals and anthros lol) so I feel quite accomplished, though my favorite part to paint was probably the tie ❤️ I hope you like your gift because I had a lot of fun with it!
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kimodraw · 6 months ago
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out of touch :)
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moruboru · 25 days ago
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having the time of my life rn
#im just gonna dump this here bc i srsly cant go with this anywhere else cause my veins are about to pop#going on bsky really making me realize that my art simply got carried by the algorithm and not bc ppl actually like it i feel lol#i crawl back to twt bc im so addicted to the notification pop up there at least there i can feel like i actually matter#everyone has been getting serotonin from bsky but for me it was the exact opposite most friends also dont care for bsky so im just alone#maybe its also just the realization that perhaps there is nothing left for me on this earth#i put so much of my selfworth into the stupid numbers online and now im paying the price for it#my mental health is so bad rn i cant go a single day without feeling like i wanna end it today or i wont live past my 30s nor that i even#WANT TO live past my 30s my passions are gone dont have goals in life anymore like whats even the point maybe this really is the final#nail in the coffin for me lol i dont even think anyone cares for me beyond a personal surface level not even my family im so done with lif#im so eaten up by jealousy in every aspect of my life and i have had to bottle it up for so long bc nobody actually gives a shit even if i#openly talked about it to whoever how its making me miserable but its always the “just think about the good in life :)” there is none#i honestly wished for several years i shouldve been dead or at least not exist physically anymore and it was only the clout online that kep#me alive for better or worse but now im starting to believe this was all jsut lies too lol ngl i just wanna crawl into a hole and never ge#back out of it anymore i dont think anyone would even miss me anyways lol
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cewoz · 4 months ago
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recitedemise · 10 months ago
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𝗚𝗮𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗻 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗰𝘆. For him, the feeling of the latter—striking, palpable, entirely all-body—is addictive. It feels the most potent, singing through his body in a manner that thrills, and after calling down lightning in a flash of blue, its the fragrance of a storm that he's proud to wear. It makes his nerves feel alive. His every muscle feels wired. In a way, life's at its brightest when he plays with lightning, and mad in his eyes and wild in his hair, there's no element that comes close to besting it.
That said, however, it is necromancy that he's grown most adept in. Unfortunately, his relationship with it isn't half as kind as it is with lightning. Rotting from the inside, skin cracking nastily, Gale had grown desperate to control the orb. Because he's dying, he thought it best to study dying, poring himself endlessly in necromantic textbooks and experimenting (unsuccessfully) on his blight-gotten wounds. To note, necromancy itself isn't inherently evil. For example, it doesn't mean you support the raising of the dead. Rather, it's a study that's neutral just as any other, and as a study on forces from both death to life, Gale, with urgency, obsessively learned. With his year in solitude, it is feverishly that he took to necromancy. Somatically and verbally, his aptitude for the field is practically bar-none, and after Elminster helped tame the orb, the breadth of his studies comes to fruition. It isn't his favorite field, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't thoroughly enjoy it. It works well, anyway, considering his leaning for lightning; with necromancy chilling him, those violent bolts warm.
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wellenklavier · 11 months ago
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look at my tsom lapel pin outfit boy
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scarlett-bitch69 · 4 months ago
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instagram
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Coping Mechanisms
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fingertipsmp3 · 3 months ago
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I seriously am a colossal bitch when I’m sober, it’s completely unnecessary. I’m absolutely sick of myself and it’s only been two weeks.
#i just become a HATER bro i don’t know what’s wrong with me#i’m going to do this reading challenge in september and one of the prompts was ‘steal a book from someone else’s tbr’#and so i was scrolling down tbr lists just going ‘this book sucks. THIS book sucks. this book SUCKS’#what’s the reason!!!!! i haven’t even heard of most of them#i become the type of person who rolls their eyes at feel good book and movie synopses#only things i’m finding interesting lately are documentaries; horror; and nail videos#like nail art and nail care and just people showing off nail polish#i tried to paint my nails tonight and it was an absolute bloodbath. spilled metallic purple nail polish down my favourite leggings#just decided to take off my whole manicure and wait til my holo taco order gets here#i don’t think i trust myself with regular width brushes#anyway i saw that the local church has recovery meetings on wednesdays but i’m really in two minds about going because i’m not an addict#i just have a dependency. it says open meetings but idk#i don’t want to swan in there like ‘hiiiii if i don’t use cannabis i become an absolutely colossal bitch’#to people who have actual real problems#also i’m kind of worried that i’ll show up and there won’t be an actual meeting and the notice will be out of date#or it’ll just be me and the reverend#i bet if i asked my friend or my mum they’d come with me but to be quite frank i’d rather slam my hand in a door#the kicker is i don’t even want to be off weed right now. i don’t want to give it up#i just have to because i can’t justify the expense. lol#personal
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bibakartbeautycare · 1 year ago
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tonycries · 9 months ago
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Exes who…
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Synopsis. Showing up to a party looking like that. What's a man to do when he just can't stay away?
Pairing. Multiple x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, desperate boys, unprotected sex, NSFW, cunnilingus, pet names (my girl, babe), swearing.
Word count. 1.0k
A/N. This was supposed to be shorter, sorry lovelies. Art by @_3aem on Twitter.
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Exes who know they should stay away, but one whiff of your perfume at some dingy party and he’s dragging you to the nearest bathroom. 
He’s pathetic, he knows, but right now he couldn’t give less of a fuck as he spreads you on that bathroom counter and dives face-first into your dripping cunt.
Greedily lapping at your juices, the taste of your pussy on his tongue was so addictive. Fuck, he missed this so much. 
He feels feral. Groaning lowly at the tug of your hand on his hair which hurts so good. He flicks his tongue harshly over your throbbing clit. More. He needs more.
“Hah- Fuck- Feels so good!”
“Yeah, jus’ like that, my girl.”
Making out with your pussy was almost as addictive as fucking you. You were a drug he couldn’t let up - he couldn’t get enough of. 
Nose-deep in your cunt, he tastes you over and over the way he imagined when he fucked his fist on those lonely nights.
Fingers digging into your thighs, he moves your legs so that they wrap around his head, bringing him impossibly closer to your hot core. He breathes over it - teasing - mouth watering at the sight of it getting wetter just for him.
He’s pretty sure your sinful moans and the squelching sounds could be heard above the overplayed pop on the other side of the door. Good, let them hear. It’ll teach that scrub outside that was eyeing you a thing or two about what he can’t have.
“Hngh- Baby, I’m gonna-”
Once you cum around his tongue, hips bucking wildly and clit catching on his nose as you ride his face, he thinks he’d be happy to die here if it was in-between your legs. 
A final peck to your quivering cunt - not a goodbye, no, he’ll be seeing this pretty pussy again - but a prelude for what was to come. 
Amidst heated kisses, he lets you taste yourself on his tongue as he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. Fucking trousers - they come with too many fucking buttons. He wants to feel you now. Have your wet cunt pulsing around his painfully hard cock as he gets drunk off of your pretty moans.
So he does.
He only has his flushed tip kissing your folds, but already feels like he’ll fucking pass out. He teases your entrance - willing himself to wait like he did all these past few months. This won’t be the last time - he knows - but he sure as hell is going to treat it like it is. 
“Tell me what you want, my sweet girl.” he huffs out, eyes boring into your dazed ones. Beautiful. You were always so beautiful.
“Please. I need you in me so bad.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Please, baby.”
Your lustful whimpers are what makes him snap. You were going to be the death of him. 
Fully sheathing himself in you, he fucks your pussy with a merciless cadence that has your nails digging into his shoulder at how painfully good you were stretched. Tight. So tight.
He feels himself losing his sanity as your cunt struggles to adjust to his size, walls clenching down on his throbbing erection. It’s animalistic - the way your pussy tries to suck him back in when he pulls out fully, only to ram inside you again.
“Shit- Pussy made jus’ for me. Only me.” he moans. 
One strong arm steadying himself on the counter, and the other with an almost-painful grip on your hip, he keeps up a pace that has his abs burning. Heavy balls stinging as they smack relentlessly against your ass. 
He bites down on your exposed neck to muffle the strangled groans ripping from his throat at the ethereal feel of your snug cunt - he needs to better drink in your fucked out yelps at his harsh thrusts.
His dick twitches inside when you start whining out his name as you reach closer and closer to your climax. He could do this forever. You were heaven on Earth.
In his hazy mind, he distinctly registers the jingle of the doorknob. Annoying fuckers can’t take a hint.
“Fuck off.” he barks out, “I’m fuckin’ my future wife in here.”
His heart clenches as you push your face into the crook of his neck in embarrassment. Pulling you closer to him in response - strings of slick and precum connecting you to him - he hopes whoever’s there up above strikes him down if he doesn’t wife you up. 
Ah…he’s so close.
There isn’t even a hair’s breadth between your two bodies as he fucks into you mindlessly, not even a trace of thought for the poor soul on the other side of the door. He’s got more important things to do - you.
“Baby- Shit. I’m so close.” your exhausted mewls are music to his ears. His balls tighten and cock aches for release. 
Teeth clenched and brows furrowed at how your walls were fluttering around him so perfectly, he grits out “Me too, my girl. Me too.”
Your legs tighten around his toned waist as your cunt clamps down on his thick length - sending both of you over the edge. 
He sees stars as he cums. Thick ropes painting your walls white and shaky whimpers of your name leaving his mouth like a prayer. You really were heaven on Earth.
Cum drips down the side when he slows down to shallow grinds of his hips, fucking his cum deeper and deeper into you. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he pulls his sensitive cock out of you.
With a long finger, he gathers the cum now slowly dripping out of you. Pooling it at his fingertips before popping them into his mouth, half-lidded eyes looking right into your fucked out ones. He moans around them as if tasting a delicacy, elated at the way your mouth drops in disbelief at his lewd act. 
He feels barely lucid as he snaps your panties back on you with a devilish grin and tucks himself back into his trousers. 
Unlocking the door to pointed looks he couldn’t care less about, he can’t keep his eyes off the alluring curve of your hips as you walk away back to the party - pretending like his cum isn’t making a mess of your panties right now. 
Dick twitching to life again, he pulls out his phone - unblocking you once more. 
– GOJO, Choso, Geto, Suna, ATSUMU, KUROO, Oikawa, Sakusa, JEAN, EREN
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A/N. …Gimme a min I’m cooking up something for Suguru…
Plagiarism not authorized.
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aajjks · 11 months ago
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eyes on me (m)
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synopsis. look at him, only him, especially when he’s fucking you dumb.
warnings. êxplïcït sěx, döm!töjï, fèm!réàdèr, däddy kïnk, MÄTŪRE THÊMÊS, cússïng, prâïsê kïnk, röügh s-x, möänïng, gröǎnïng, ünprötêctêd s-x, bïtïng, yändêrê töjï, [wräp ït bêförě yöu täp ït], b-lly bǔlgè.
header art by @jj59u on twt. It’s not mine.
note. happy new year 🫶🏻💌✨ please re-blog as much as you can and please share feedback ENJOY!
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Oh you look so erotic like this.
You’re both so sweaty, you’re crying, he’s smirking, going so fast, hammering into your heat, Toji can’t stop looking at you at all.
You’re so shy despite literally drooling in his cock but you’re just so adorable- hiding your face away in his neck, whimpering like a kitten in the cold while he’s buried deep inside you.
Your nails are digging so deep into his naked back, your breathy moans are like music to him, and he’s already about to cum as he feels your walls clench tighter around him.
“Gonna cum, my pretty slut?” He asks you so tenderly, pressing butterfly kisses into your messed up hair, Toji hisses a little when you dig your nails deeper but the pain only makes his dick harder.
So he doesn’t waste a second to pick up his already fast pace, he knows you’re about to cum because you always get so quite, too lost in the pleasure to respond or comprehend anything around you.
He is fucking you dumb on his cock.
And he’s doing exactly that right now too. “Come on pretty baby speak up.” Toji whispers in a sultry voice in your ear and he doesn’t miss the way goosebumps appear on your skin, and the sight makes him smile.
Because your shoulder and neck are filled with his bite marks, “yn..” he calls out your name once again, panting alot, he’s made sure to make you cum at least two times.
Because you are his princess, you may be a little bratty but he loves you so much, Tojis hips are grinding into the air and he’s got you safe in his arms, your cunt is so hot around him, he feels like he’ll burst, just then you finally lift your head up and that makes him so happy because he can see your pretty eyes.
Toji is kissing you up from the valley of your breasts, his lips all over them, you’re so soft and so pretty.
“w-wanna cum, daddy.” You whimper, and he coos, pulling you for a rough sloppy kiss, his teeth nibble on the meat of your lower lip.
He’s about to cum too.
“S-So fuckin pretty.” He groans, It’s his turn to bury his face into your shoulder, he’s enjoying the lewd sounds that’s echoing through out your large bedroom, he’s missed you so much.
His biceps flex as he’s fucking you like his life depends on it, maybe because he wants you to get so addicted to him.
“O-Oh daddy… feels so good- ah.” Youre hugging him tightly. Toji feels so calm when his body is into yours, it’s so intimate yet calming.
“You fuck me ‘so good.” Your praise actually has his head spinning so now he’s literally bullying his dick into your pussy, crying out curses and what not.
He loves you so much.
He knows he’s got a very filthy mouth but he knows you love it so much, because it’s not long before you’re literally creaming in his cock, crying with literal tears, moaning in pleasure.
Your shy self is long gone and you’re a loud moaning mess.
You sound like a slut- his favorite slut.
“Noooo baby come on- look into daddy’s eyes.” He is forcing your head up again before you can hide again and his large fingers hold your face up so you’re looking straight into his eyes.
Your eyes are the best thing about you.
He smirks when he spots your belly bulge, you take him so well every time.
Your body is made for him.
“Eyes on me so daddy c-can cum, baby.”
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poisonf0rest · 3 months ago
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iicyify
♱⋅── sylus x reader x zayne (soon)
♱⋅── synopsis: Death haunts you like a vengeful lover. You’re dispatched on a mission to capture a fugitive in Linkon City's forbidden N109 Zone, but of course old ghosts come back to haunt you, and this time you’re unable to resist the pull of your twisted connection. AKA the enemies to lovers aphrodisiac fic.
♱⋅── tags READ CAREFULLY: mdni, smut, semi non-con (aphrodisiac), bondage, semi-public sex, heavy enemies to lovers I don't play around with that shit, breeding, there’s sharp objects used in inappropriate ways, blood kink probably, again please mind the tags
♱⋅── word count: 8.5K
♱⋅── art: @/Shanyi708944594
Shostakovich's Waltz No. 2, a bad omen if you’ve ever heard one. 
The low strum of the cello jumps to life as you enter the ball, each sting echoing from the marble arches to the dance floor, the gentle strum of the accompanying violins muffled by the floor-to-ceiling curtains. 
She’s a deceiving song, breaking traditional waltz rules with her three-fourth tempo, the two cellos battling for dominance as their battle song announces your unplanned arrival. 
Your heels click in time to the emerging saxophone, and you disappear into the crowd. Unfortunately, you don't have the liberty of indulging yourself in music tonight. Tonight, you have a job. 
The Hunter's Association only gave you a name- Kovi Rochelle. Who were you to ask questions? It's far from the first time you've snuck into the N109 Zone, and as you scan the crowd, you make mental notes of all you recognize. On the ballroom floor is an heiress to an illicit firearms company, and her dance companion is the right-hand man to a minor gang. Near the orchestra are a few faces you recognize from a drug syndicate, and near the disgustingly lavish food no one was foolish enough to touch was the daughter of an oil tycoon. 
No sign of a certain crow, you note, narrowing your eyes. No sign of your target either.
It takes you longer than you would have liked to find Kovi, but you find a man fitting his description well enough in a far corner of the hall, face twisted into a crooked leer as he's saying something inaudible over the orchestra to a waitress. Sixties, full beard, crooked nose and a penchant for younger girls. 
Your hand slips against your thigh, closer to where the burn of cool metal rests hidden beneath the silk of your dress.
The waltz is nearly over, and just as cellos reach their climax, you feel a hand snatch your own.
"There you are. I've been looking everywhere for you, sweetie."
Your body goes rigid, but the hand pulling you into a twirl is vicious and the fanged smile that follows even more so. 
The urge to pull your gun is tempered only by years of Hunter experience. That, and the simple fact that should you fail to retrieve this target, the Association would punish you ten-fold. 
So you meet Sylus’s blood-red gaze with a deathly sweet smile, baring your teeth. “How disappointing, so you’re immune to poisons too. I’ll keep it in mind for next time.” You try to keep the irritation out of your voice, but his lips curl, showing off his misaligned fangs with all the kindness of a hungry dog. 
“I certainly hope you do. Despite not being able to die, it’s certainly no fun to writhe around in pain for several hours.” Sylus grabs your jaw, causing you to stumble forward as he forces your chin up, hot tongue raking up the side of your neck as you hiss. “Tetrodotoxin? Addictive.”
“Disgusting bastard.” He saw through you yet again. 
Sylus laughs, a deep, loud chuckle that catches other guests’ attention before you nearly claw his face to shut him up. Your hand only makes it halfway, impact broken when he grabs your wrist instead, tightening to the point of pain. 
But you're now too close to the dance floor to refuse without drawing any more unwanted attention, so you place your hand against his shoulder before digging your nails in through the expensive silk of his blazer. You hope he bleeds. 
Nothing good would come from it, but gods, would it taste sweet.
Something flashes in the depths of his unnaturally red eye, and Sylus chuckles to himself before sliding his fingers from your wrist into your palm, taking your hand to lead you in a slow, calculated turn. You watch his eyes dilate in predatory satisfaction at the bruises left against your wrist. 
"If you’re truly humoring me with a dance, then I take it you haven't taken out your target either."
So he knows your objective. You stare up at Sylus directly, nearly crushing his foot with your heel when the tempo jumps again, speeding up with the shrill of the violins. "Tonight are you my ally or enemy?”
“I’m whatever you want me to be.”
Your eyes narrow, but his words are far too cryptic to give away the truth. Instead, you focus on the rhythm of the song, the sound of your heels, and the steady heartbeat of Sylus' chest as it beats against your own.
"I must say though, I wish you applied this distraction tactic on me when we first met." His hand strays from its spot on your waist, palm searing into your back as he traces up and down your exposed spine, giving a possessive squeeze to your ass. "After all, how could any man stay weary with utter temptation walking around?"
You grit your teeth, purposefully stepping forward out of tune to press the bulge of your gun against Sylus's thigh. "I swear I’ll kill you."
For Caleb. For your grandmother. For your own god-damn sanity.
His fanged smile widens, and he leans in close, whispering against the shell of your ear, “Oh yes, how I love to watch you try. Got closer last time, didn’t you?” And he spins you away, violently turning you again and again until you have no choice but to rely on his arm lest you fall. 
As your mind spins all your prior attempts get flung back at you, from poisoning him through wine to stabbing him in his sleep, Sylus’ body was damn near immortal. More infuriating still, he only goads you further after every attempted assassination, fighting you unconscious and leaving you in Linkon City with only a crow feather and letter detailing all the points of failure from your latest attempt.
A final spin, and the world blurs. Sylus pulls you back with a force that makes you stumble, and he dips you with a chuckle. "I must say, I've never had such a passionate lover." 
By the time the chorus ends, Sylus pulls you back into his arms, dipping you as you gasp against his chest, head spinning and blood rushing furiously to your head. But the song is far from over, and you intend to get more information out of the man before he disappears once more. If he comes between you and your target…
Sylus' gaze is unreadable as you look up, and his hand tightens on your waist, guiding you into a steady tempo once again. A blur of other dancers swing by, but the only thing you can focus on now is the man before you, staring right past your rotted soul with those blood-red eyes. Eyes of a sinner. Of a mistake. Just like you.
"A little birdie told me that someone here is in possession of an Aether Core." He taunts, spinning you so your back is to his chest. "Admit to yourself what it is you’re really after, and I'll give it to you, sweetie. All you have to do is say the word."
Your lips part in surprise, and Sylus grins, pulling you closer so he can whisper in your ear. "I don’t mind being used by you. After all, I want to use you too. All you have to do is say yes."
You’re surrounded by him, a mixture of spice and cologne, and can see the way his ashen hair falls over his forehead, and the way his lips are pared just slightly as you pull him in closer by the nape of his neck. He led you to the protocore last time. He killed your family. He saved you. He's the reason everything you loved is gone.
Your lips skim up his neck, and you smile as you feel Sylus tense in the midst of the waltz as you give him your answer. "Fuck you."
He’s frozen for a beat before breaking into another laugh. "Only if you wish. I doubt your doctor friend would be too keen on the idea though."
Your breath hitches, eyes wide, but Sylus' laughter only grows. The waltz is coming to a close, and in one smooth motion, Sylus releases his hold on your waist, only to grab your hand and bring it to his lips.
"Until next time, sweetie." He places a kiss to the back of your hand and disappears as the cellos strum their final chord. “As much as I’d love to stay and listen to my little kitten hiss some more, I’m unfortunately running late for my appointment. And I believe you are too.”
And as quickly as he had stolen you away, he's gone, and you're left with the sound of your heart hammering in your ears and the coldness of his absence.
"Tch, damn it." You curse, glancing around the room for any sign of the waitress and your target.
Kovi and the potential Aether Core Sylus told you about might still be in the ballroom. But you don't have time to find both. Not when Sylus knows who you're after. Not if he realizes why the Association needs you to bring back Kovi alive. 
Your gaze flickers across the crowd, but the man is nowhere in sight. The orchestra has already begun their next song, and a few waiters have already begun moving in with the next round of food and drink, and while most people are caught up in the music, your gaze is locked on a familiar waitress struggling with a tray of drinks and a woman dressed in black, dragging her back into the server's hall.
You don't have time to decide. You rush after them, slipping past another waiter and ducking around a group of gossiping socialites. The door leading to the back of the mansion slams behind the women, and you push it open, stepping inside the dark corridor.
"Come on, the boss said to leave him there!"
"But that bitch-!"
"It's a lost cause."
"Let's just go. He'll be dead soon anyways."
You wait until the footsteps have faded and the doors close behind them before slowly standing, taking off your heels, and slipping your gun out from its holster, metal cold against smooth silk.
There are four doors along the corridor, three to the left, one at the very end, and all are locked. You check each one, but only the last has any signs of movement. It's a small door, the size of an office closet, and when you press your ear to the wood, you can hear the sound of voices.
"We're in the last round of betting. I assume you're ready to finally make a decision, Mr. Sylus?" Fuck. That’s Kovi’s voice.
"What if I want to raise the stakes?"
A bang. "The key to these games, boy, is knowing when to quit."
"I always like to put everything on the line. Besides, it's hard to gamble with something that isn't yours."
"Oh no, she's mine alright. Paid quite a hefty price for her, you of all people should know that." A muffled set of insults, punctuated by a deep set of laughter that has your blood running cold. "White wolf of Onychinus, figured you'd be more impressive."
There’s a distinct click of a trigger and the scramble of chairs being kicked over. "All in." And then, the sound of a gunshot.
Your instincts kick in and you slam into the door, shoulder burning in protest. It's hollow, thank god, and you have enough sense to duck as a set of bullets fire, ripping the door into a thousand splinters. 
Sylus' face is twisted in a snarl, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, and a woman in a waiter's uniform lying at his feet. Her body is still convulsing, a set of bullet wounds in her chest, and you realize it's the woman from before, the one who was with the other waitress. 
And your target.
Kovi was slumped against a plush leather chair, bleeding out onto an unfinished poker game, soaking through cards and chips from the gushing set of bullet wounds buried in his brain.
"You killed him," you hiss, and Sylus only raises a brow, watching as you step over the woman and walk over to the other body slumped in the corner. "He was alive, you bastard. And you shot him."
"He was a traitor."
"Not to me." You hiss, and the click of your pistol echoes, pointing it straight at Sylus. "I needed him alive, and you knew it."
He looks unperturbed, and you can only glare when he smiles, shrugs, and steps closer to your gun, metal kissing bare flesh. You don’t so much as flinch, not even as his smile turns wolfish, scanning you up and down before settling on your weapon once again. "And I'm supposed to care?"
You pull the trigger.
The bullet shoots through where his heart would have been, but Sylus is already mid-lunge, twisting your wrist sideways. The shot goes wide. His jabs are precise, punching against the tender inside of your wrist and elbow before shoving you against the wall, the entire room rattling on impact, a mirror falling as it shatters.
"If the Association wanted him alive, then perhaps they should have sent someone else," He taunts.
Death haunts you like a vengeful lover. Sylus knows this well.
You twist, still holding onto your gun, but Sylus only presses his body closer, using his monstrous height to his advantage, tightening until your arms are going numb. 
The look in his eyes is knowing, and Sylus scoffs down at you. “But he’s not why you came here, is it?”
You stop struggling.
His right eye glows that sickly red once more, and you straighten against his hold, jabbing your chin up as you meet his gaze. You know he’s digging around your mind again, and so you spit out the truth. “Where’s the core?”
“So she admits it. Here, it’s all yours." Sylus says and reaches into his coat. He pulls out a small, blood-soaked stone and drops it at your feet, and you can't help but stare, noticing a moment too late as your gaze snaps back up to meet his.
“What? You want it, don't you?" Sylus whispers, and his fingers trailing up your sides, pushing your dress up. You thrash against him, and his other hand wraps around your throat. "Then take it."
You kick and scratch and hiss, a vicious distraction all while tightening the grip on your gun.
"Come on, sweetheart. I know you can do better than that."
A gunshot cuts off his sentence. 
Sylus falls to his knee with a groan, bullet traveling clean through his thigh. It's not enough to kill him, you know it, but he'll heal in a matter of seconds, so you take your aim against his heart instead, pressing the muzzle of the gun into his chest. The heat from the metal sears into Sylus' flesh, and as you force the gun closer as you yank his head up by the hair, rewarded with a loud moan as Sylus rolls his eyes back at the pain.
"You can't kill me."
"No," you whisper, pulling him close, "but I can hurt you."
His grin only widens, a bloody gash curling across his face as he stares up at you. “Such arrogance.”
Sylus leans into your touch, and then a hand covers your own on the gun, fingers laced around the trigger.
"What are you waiting for? Do it, I want to feel it, I want you to finish it." His words are low and you feel a rush of adrenaline at finally having him at your mercy, of having him at the brink of death. 
He yanks the gun closer, and thus you as well, looking up into your eyes with a sick devotion only a sinner could have. 
But you’ve learned from last time. So you curl your finger, and pull the trigger. 
The bullet never reaches. 
A web of dark energy stops it mere centimeters from Sylus' chest, and he sends it ricocheting back so it speeds by your collarbone and neck with a furious red trail.
You don't have enough time to scream.
Sylus pulls you down alongside him and slams your body against the ground, skull rattling against the marble. You scramble to your hands before he shoves you back to the floor with his palm, pinning you beneath him and pressing his lips to the fresh wound on your neck.
"You taste divine." Sylus hisses, and he sucks against the wound as your blood runs down his chin, grabbing your wrists until something snaps and you drop the gun with a scream. It skirts across the floor, out of reach.
You buck under his weight, kicking your legs out until one digs into the bullet wound still closing on his thigh, fresh blood streaming down the both of you as he licks and sucks and bites against your neck, leaving a trail of raw marks and bruises. 
With your free wrist, you unsheathe your dagger, driving it into Sylus’ neck. Dark tendrils of energy catch the blade, but your fury burns hotter, and you grant him a twin scar, slicing from the hollow of his collarbone up his neck.
Sylus moans, a strangled, guttural sound that goes straight between your thighs. You can see the muscle and skin knitting back together, the tendrils of shadows seeping out from his flesh and sealing the wound shut. But his grip on you remains.
You're both panting, blood dripping down your neck and Sylus' chest, but his eyes are dark and full of promise that makes your stomach twist.
"Do it again," he hisses, and he presses his hips into yours, letting you feel how hard he is through the fabric of his pants. "Cut me. Stab me. Kill me. All you have to do is try, sweetheart. Make it good this time, will you?"
You are not a fool. You know this is a challenge, a taunt, but you also know you can't back down.
So you push yourself up, knife glinting under the dim lights as you sink the blade into Sylus' throat, dragging a ragged line from one side to the other. Blood pours over his chest, drenching his shirt, and you can't help but watch in morbid fascination as the skin begins to knit itself back together, muscle and flesh growing and closing up, tendrils of dark energy wrapping and sealing the wound.
You almost want to lean in to taste it yourself.
Sylus makes a strangled sound from against your neck, still licking up your blood as you dig your nails into his fresh wound, pressing closer and closer still. Closer than flesh and blood would allow, bloody and raw and angry. 
His tendrils of energy wrap around your throat just as your knife presses up against his, both of you panting heavily. “When will you admit it? From your past to your future, to even all the crimes you'll inevitably commit. You and I… we're made of the same sin.”
You twist to the side, unable to meet his glowing eye, and Sylus smiles, blood-stained and fanged.
“Look at me.” He growls, and his fingers wrap around your jaw, forcing you to look up, nose brushing his. The glow of his right eye is nearly blinding, a mixture of gold and red and orange that swirl together like fire.
Fire, corruption, and the same damned soul.
They flash before you. The faces of every soul you’ve taken, every mission you’ve accepted from the Association, every trophy you’ve never cried over that has granted you nothing but pride and misery. 
And then flashes of your family, burning alive in the explosion that the demon before you set off. Burning flesh, screaming, the smell of sulfur. 
You see the face of a man too good for you. Practical and cold, but so unfairly kind and selfless it makes your chest ache. Zayne.
Not that Zayne is yours, not in any measurable way. But he’s the man that is so perfectly beyond your reach that it gives you a semblance of hope for change, for atonement. He’s the man that you’ve decided to foolishly love until your last breath.
Worst of all, you know Sylus can see him now too.
Another flash of red. Sylus, staring down at you, his smile a cruel imitation of Zayne's.
"What do you want, little dove?"
"My revenge."
He smiles, and leans in, lips pressed against the shell of your ear, hot breath tickling the sensitive flesh there. "I could give it to you. Everything you’ve ever wanted."
His touch burns, and you shudder, a mix of emotions twisting your gut. Fear, anger, desperation.
“I no longer want.” You hiss. “So stay out-” you gasp, reality and memory flickering together. “of-” you thrust the knife upwards, stabbing wildly until something connects. “-my fucking head!”
It's only when you hear the sickening crunch of flesh and the feel of blood pouring down your arm that you realize where you are. The memory of Zayne is gone, replaced by the present.
Sylus.
His eyes are wide, mouth agape and blood dripping down his chin. Your knife is buried deep in his palm, blade caught in his hand mere inches from his skull. Your vision blurs and the world spins, and the last thing you see is the sight of Sylus smiling, blood running down his cheek and his eye burning a brilliant, golden red.
And then the world bursts into smoke.
You feel it before you understand what has happened.
Throwing your hands above your head, you brace for an explosion or flash that never comes, the room blanketed by a cloud of thick smog that has your head spinning. A weight crushes you, and for a moment you think the ceiling caved until you realize it was Sylus who must have flung himself atop you at the moment of impact.
You think there’s an earthquake or aftershocks of another attack when you see your hand trembling, realizing it’s just your entire body convulsing against the floor as you inhale mouthfuls of the thick, cloying smoke. It tastes sticky and sweet at the back of your throat, cloying against your tongue and crawling under your skin. You think you might be dying. 
Sylus is faring no better, chest heaving as he nearly falls atop you, barely holding himself up on his forearms. His mouth is a bloody mess, there's a gash on his forehead that refused to heal. The energy of his Evol leaks from him in a thick mist of dark matter that seeps in and out of his sweat-slicked flesh. He’s losing control of his power.
“What the fuck—“ a violent heat rips surges down your spine, a choked gasp seizing your lungs as you feel bursts of energy heat under your skin- your Evol’s power fluctuating wildly. The once familiar power now feels like a toxin, your very core vibrating, practically a bomb seconds away from detonating.
It wasn’t a shock grenade. Not smoke. Poison? Your vision is swimming, but Sylus is still holding you, and when you freeze his entire body convulses in laughter as you seem to finally piece together what has happened.
"An aphrodisiac. They're... those fucking bastards." You can’t even see where your gun is, the entire room lurching sideways as you try and crawl out from under Sylus.
But as soon as you knee him in the side trying to topple him over, you both freeze at the contact, the brush of bare skin enough to have you keening.
Sylus groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck. You can feel him shaking, every bulging muscle tensed beneath his torn clothes, and his lips press against your pulse, teeth sinking into the delicate skin there. Shadowy tendrils grow from his back, a spiderweb of raw power that he seems to have no control over as they piece into the ground with enough force to crack through marble. You flinch at the sight.
“Are you scared, little dove?” Like a spider’s legs, they support him as he staggers to his knees, caging you in against the floor. A moth in a web. “Perhaps you finally should be.”
He grabs you by the hair, tilting your head back so you have to look him in the eyes. You struggle to move, to push him off, but the mere touch only seems to rile the man above you. He groans, the sound low and guttural, and when you finally meet his gaze, his eye is a wild, glowing red, and he's looking at you like he wants to devour you.
A demon. You’re laying before a demon. 
"What's wrong, sweetie? Too proud to give in?" He taunts.
"Not to you," you hiss, and you grab him by the collar, pulling him closer. "You're not even worth it."
Sylus' smile widens. "Still lying to yourself, aren’t you?"
Your skin burns, his touch leaving a trail of fire and desire. You can feel the aphrodisiac pulsing through your veins, a violent, angry heat that consumes everything it touches.
"Allow me to offer you a deal, then." Sylus' mouth twists in a snarl, and you feel his hands grip your waist. His nails dig into the exposed skin of your lower back, and Sylus pulls you closer, pressing his erection against your ass. "Run," he whispers, and his lips brush the shell of your ear. "Run as fast as you fucking can, because if I catch you I fuck you."
He pulls away, eye still glowing, turning into little more than a shadowed silhouette that towers over you. "And I won't be as gentle as your little boyfriend."
You don't remember when you start running.
 One moment, Sylus is in front of you, a wicked, predatory smile curling across his face. And the next, he's gone, the sound of footsteps fading behind you and the smell of gunpowder and blood hanging heavy in the air.
He's close.
You can feel his power, feel the way the aphrodisiac has corrupted him. Every tendril of energy from his body feels like a physical thing, a thread of pure energy and darkness. You hear his breathing, the sound of his body slamming against the walls and the doors as he gives chase.
Somehow the aphrodisiac did more than just make his Evol stronger, Sylus himself seemed fundamentally changed. Stalking you in a half-limp like a predator enjoying the hunt, every muscle tensed underneath his fitted suit as though waiting for you to make a run for it. Waiting to finally pounce. 
In the end it never mattered how strong you were. What stood before you was no man, but a monster.
“Don’t tell me that’s all you got, kitten? Come on, run faster, make it fun for me.”
Your heart leaps in your throat. Every inch of your body is alert, hyperaware of his echoing footsteps, following you no matter how many turns you take, no matter which stairs you climb, utterly unsure if you’re running closer or further from the exit.
But you force yourself to breathe, and you push off the walls and into a sprint. You have no weapons, no gun, but the only thing you can think of is running, running and getting as far away from Sylus as possible. Zayne. Zayne will know how to fix this, surely he knows a cure for the aphrodisiac.
Your steps are growing clumsy, and every breath you take now has you gasping, a burning need growing within. Every muscle in your body begins to tremble, and the heat is almost unbearable. You're not sure how much longer you can hold out.
You need to get to Zayne.
Turning yet another corner, you expect to see the main hallway of the mansion, nearly crying in relief at the sight of the door when the world lurches sideways.
A shadowed claw reaches up from the ground, yanking your ankle backward with a painful tug. You scream, throwing a burst of energy behind you as your Evol flares up, snarling at the shadow that follows you.
But the aphrodisiac has you weak. Your power is sporadic and unfocused, and another set of shadows wrap around your thighs and arms, rendering you immobile as they squeeze and pull at your over-sensitive flesh.
The sound that comes from your throat is one of pain and need.
Sylus laughs, a deep and rumbling chuckle that echoes through the empty hallway. He emerges from the shadows, a beast walking upright. He towers over you, his massive frame blocking the light, casting a long shadow across the floor.
"Are you afraid, little one?"
You can barely answer.
"Good."
Sylus moves fast. Before you can blink, his hand is on your throat and he's lifting you up off the ground, his fingers digging into your skin right over your racing pulse as he holds you at eye level. "Perhaps I'll keep you around even after I'm done with you. After all, I truly enjoy watching my little prey struggle."
The memory sends a thrill of fear through your body.
You gasp, clawing at his arm, and Sylus tightens his grip on your throat with a click of his tongue. "Ah ah ah. No more of that, kitten. Not unless you want more punishment."
You force yourself to meet his gaze, refusing to look away even as he squeezes your throat and makes it hard to breathe. The lack of oxygen has you lightheaded, but the heat from his palm makes you even dizzier, a sick twisting against your core at the show of brute strength. You glare up at him, and you know he can see the fear and hatred and desire in your eyes, because he grins, a wicked smile full of fangs and blood and the promise of something far worse.
"But knowing you, perhaps that's what you're after?" 
The shadows tighten and you cry out again, snarling as you try and use your Evol to free yourself. Burning through his arm, Sylus releases you with a hiss. You run for it, barely making it three steps backward before you’re tackled to the floor. 
"There, there. No need to run from it, I know my nasty little brat enjoys this as much as I do. After all, you let me catch you, didn’t you?” He taunts, pressing his thigh between your legs. You're unable to stop yourself from grinding against him, whimpering as the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins. “And I intend to keep my side of the deal.”
Pinning you on your stomach, Sylus drags blades of energy down your dress, ripping the fabric to shreds as the silk flutters to the floor. The cold air stings against your sensitive flesh, and you whimper at the near painful difference between the cold and the heat of his touch.
"I'll kill you," you hiss, and Sylus laughs. He could kill you now, before you made good on your promise. And oh it would make everything so much easier, simpler - but he didn’t. Can’t. Instead he forces your jaw to the side before crashing his lips onto yours, fangs catching against the plush flesh. The angle has your neck screaming in protest, yet you swear it’s the dichotomy between the painful bruising of his grasp and the devotion of his lips that has you addicted. 
So you kiss him back, more teeth and tongue and thoroughly fucking addicting. "You're mine to kill, I won’t let anyone else take that victory from me.”
“That’s it,” Sylus practically growls into your ear, his face flushed and a vein protruding in his neck. Then your ass is lifted up, effortlessly manhandled like a ragdoll as you hear the click of Sylus’ belt. ”Keep fighting it, kitten, make it fun. But just know your body is so, so honest with me.”
And then you can’t breathe - not because his large hand tightens around your neck, forcing your body to arch into the floor, but because Sylus was suddenly rutting his weeping, fat tip between your thighs. It catches your swollen clit, and you grind against empty air, gasping. Sylus' laugh is cruel, sliding the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing the sensitive skin. You shudder, the sensation of his cock dragging against your entrance enough to have you trembling. You're so close, and he's not even inside you yet.
"Aww, sweetheart. Are you scared? You're soaking." His words are mocking, and you try to bite back a moan as his hand leaves your waist, delivering a harsh slap against your ass instead. "Tell me, did that boy back in Linkon ever make you feel this good?"
"Fuck. You."
"Oh dear, did I hit a nerve?" He purrs, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your ass.
"Shut up, shut the fuck up-" Your words are cut short, a strangled sound tearing from your throat when the head of his cock catches your folds, the sheer girth of him unable to push in, sliding against your cunt as she practically drools over him. 
Sylus curses against your neck, sitting back on his heels as he grabs his throbbing length, messily fucking your slick up and down, the heat and smell and feel of you enough to steal the rest of his sanity as he surrenders completely to the aphrodisiac. He’s bigger than usual, thicker and sensitive, and right when he thinks he might cum, Sylus forces his hand away. He can’t, not with you before him, it would be a waste.
A loud, broken moan escapes him as he tortures himself with a rough squeeze to his base, the sheer need overwhelming him as though he’d die should he not be inside you this very second. 
In you. He needs to be in you, cum in you, fill you up and claim you in every way possible. 
He’s about to try again when something warm squeezes around his base, nearly bringing him to his knees. Even though your shoulders were still pinned to the marble, you snuck one hand back to wrap around Sylus’ poor throbbing dick, your mere touch, barely able to circle around the girth of him, was enough to have him seeing white. 
“You’re- ah- taking too long.” You whine at the sight of Sylus at your mercy, and squeeze tighter. His cock twitches, pre-cum leaking from his tip and dripping down your knuckles, and his eyes roll back into his head, drawing out a low, deep moan that practically vibrates through his chest. 
“You’re right,” Sylus yanks your hips back, grinding against your ass as his free hand weaves between the two of you, rolling against your clit. “She’s getting too impatient, isn’t she?” 
You can’t even hear your own screams, not over the obscene squelches your cunt makes over his dick and fingers. Sylus was using every ounce of remaining sanity to prove his point, unconsciously already bucking against you as he continued bullying your swollen nub until you gave in. All to make your ultimate surrender even sweeter. “I don’t mind spending the whole night fucking you into your place.”
He nearly roars in frustration as your cunt still refuses to take him, resisting each press of his hips. A pair of shadowy hands seize your ankles, yanking you backward and spreading your legs so wide that your hips nearly split. Your jaw falls open in a silent scream, thighs trembling as they’re practically pinned to your side, ass forced higher into the air as another set of tendrils come around to play with your swollen clit. 
He’s cruel. 
The longer it took, the thinner his restraint waned, and Sylus’ Evol surrounds the two of you in a web of darkness, cracking through the marble when your cunt finally yields to the pressure of his large, overbearing cock. As soon as he feels the flutter of your core against his tip, he knows he’s lost, the head of Sylus’ cock sliding into you with a lewd pop as you both gasp.
The stretch burns, your walls forced to part around the head of his cock as the swollen tip sinks inside, stretching you past what was natural. His fingers leave bloody trails on your waist, but the thought of the permanent marks only adds to the heat coursing through your veins. You're panting now, a broken mantra of fuck me and please and more spilling from your lips as the aphrodisiac takes complete control.
The feeling of your cunt suffocating his swollen head as Sylus’ control waning, and you use the moment of weakness to push your hips backward, forcing him in further. With each slow grind the underside of Sylus’ cock unintentionally bullies itself against your sweet spot again and again and again, that one fat vein pulsing against it in time to his erratic heartbeat.
Head lolling to the side, you catch a glimpse of where the two of you meet and nearly sob. He’s not even halfway in yet. The pressure has your mind spinning, and god you don’t think you can take any more. 
But as you clench around him and Sylus makes up his mind, refusing to leave you a moment longer without being filled to the brink with his cum. And he forces you completely onto his cock. 
A scream of his name is all you manage before your eyes roll back, arching off the ground as your entire body goes rigid. Forcing past any remaining resistance, Sylus thrusts his entire length deep inside of you, your lower stomach bulging ever so slightly, followed by a burst of pleasure so intense it hurts as you come undone, squirting over his cock and the floor.
Fucking you through your orgasm, he wraps one arm around your body, pulling you against him as your knees give in, refusing to give even an inch of space as the two of you buckle into the floor. 
"You're going to regret not running faster." Sylus hisses. "I'm never letting you go. Never- ah fuck- again."
He pulls out slowly, until only the swollen head remains inside, and then slams forward again. 
You try and claw your way out, unsure if you’re pushing closer or further, but the tendrils of energy around your legs only tighten their hold, forcing you back. The shadows seep into your flesh and leave trails of raw fire. You swear you feel him in your throat, and you know Sylus can feel it too. It's burning beneath your skin, a wild and desperate heat that feels like an inferno, a feeling so addicting it replaces the pain. 
You're resonating with him. You’re finally resonating and Sylus only growing stronger- rougher- because of it.
“Sylus, fuck, just—” you scramble for something, anything, to grab onto, screaming out different curses and moans until Sylus folds you further into the ground, pressing his full weight atop of you.
“You’re too loud, sweetie, it’s almost like you want someone to find us.” He rests his forearm before you, allowing you to claw into it as you cry. “Here.” And with that you bite, digging your teeth into his arm hard enough to draw blood as your screams are muffled with the tinge of copper. 
He laughs into your shoulder, leaning down as the new angle allows his tip to kiss your cervix. You sob, biting down again. “I want to mark you too,” and the way your skin breaks so, so easily under his fangs, marred with a permanent bloody print of him, has Sylus addicted.
So he bites again, lower this time, stands of bloody saliva connecting his lips to the dip of your spine. Fuck, he wants to mark you until there’s no question you’re taken, ruined, again and again and again. 
You don’t think he realizes he’s saying it out loud, a desperate mantra broken only by the wet sucking and biting of his lips. 
Sylus moans, hips stuttering as he comes with a shout, his sudden orgasm ripping through every muscle as he feels that corrupting heat relent with every thick rope of cum he paints inside your weeping cunt. He doesn't pull out, can't bear the thought of parting from your tight heat.
You whimper into his arm, biting again, feeling the warmth of his cum overflowing into you, squirting out as it drips down your thighs, still going and going as Sylus fucks himself through it, not stopping even as a creamy ring began forming at the base of his cock. 
Sylus expected the aphrodisiac to be absolved, waiting for the furious need, the soreness in his balls and the primal drive at the base of his brain to lessen, only to realize he felt no better. 
More. More, he still needs more. 
But so do you. And hell, you're so close, enough that you abandon your pride, crying for him over the gag that was his forearm, and beg. 
“Again,” Sylus growls. The sound rumbles deep within his chest, low and dangerous, and he can feel your pulse quicken, can hear the rush of blood through your veins. He can feel your Evol burning beneath your skin, the power seeping from your body in waves, and he can feel his own power responding.
The shadows grow. They writhe and pulse and spread, wrapping around the both of you and covering the room, turning the world pitch black. Caging you in. 
“Go on, no need to hold back now, sweetie.” Another ruthless thrust, and your jaw goes slack as he hits your cervix, deep enough that if he pushed any further you’re certain he’d breach your womb, heartbeat pulsing through your body like you were made for him. “Beg for it.”
You want to fight it. You want to say no, to struggle and bite and scratch. But the aphrodisiac has taken full control, and gods knew how long you’ve been losing the fight against Sylus even before this.
“Syl—“ His hips still. A warning. You fight to make any coherent thought amidst your unraveling, correcting yourself as you slur his title in sheer desperation, “Sir. Sir, please, let me come. You got to come, so help me!” your voice is hardly more than a broken gasp now, ”Please.”
Another tendril wraps around your front, pressing on the bulge through your stomach in time to every rough, wet, thrust, the double pressure enough to have you coming with a sob, wrecked from pleasure and pain as you tighten around his cock, almost begging to be filled more.
“Sir? I could get used to that.” Sylus barely even slows, continuing to use your trembling body as he drags himself in and out, the warm mixture of your cum forming a puddle beneath you as he watches in fascination, still consumed by the primal urge to get you full of him.
But now the aphrodisiac has loosened its grip on you, fulfilled desire replaced with sharp overstimulation as you sob into the marble, feeling every ram of Sylus’ hips smack into your swollen clit with a wet kiss. Not that he particularly cares. He knows your limit, and you’re not there yet.
“Relax. You can handle it.” Sylus laughs, grinding himself in deeper as he licks a stripe of blood and sweat up your neck. He pats your cheek condescendingly, forcing your face to the side as he scans your fucked-out expression with a wolfish smile. ”But should you have the audacity to die on me, I’ll simply bring you back just to use you again.”
Flipping you around with just an arm so you finally face him, Sylus brings your knee to your chest, the other hand forcing your jaw up so he could hear your unintelligible pleas properly.
“What? Can’t talk anymore?” He coos, relishing in the way your nails rake furiously down his back in reply- in warning. “Aw, is my baby drunk on my cock already? Should I stop?”
Not that Sylus could even fathom stopping now, not as he feels his cock bully the cum out of your poor overfilled pussy with each thrust. It drips down your legs and onto his tense balls as he fucks you like an animal, over and over and- And shit it wasn’t enough. It’ll never be enough. 
You shake your head, sobbing.
 “No–” you cry, breath coming in gasps as Sylus pulls himself up onto his knees, forcing you upright as you splay out so easily on his lap, gravity now doing most of the work as you swear you feel him hit deeper than before. “Ah, too much!”
“One moment it’s too little, and the next too much. You should try and make up your mind, sweetheart.” One hand squishes your cheeks together and forces you to look down at the way your poor pussy was bulging around Sylus’ cock. Your bodies are both drenched in a sinful mixture of blood and sweat and cum, sheer exhaustion slowing the both of you down as every slow, deep thrust is now accentuated with a filthy wet slap. “Mmmh I was foolish to let you run from me f’so long, not when you look so perfect like this.”
Sylus’ fangs graze your ear, abs tensing underneath your nails as he fucks up into you without any sort of rythm. Sharp, slow jabs of his hips, meeting each one as he palms at your swollen belly. “Can’t wait till you’re fucked full, right sweetie?”
He doesn’t wait for a response - not that he could hear one anyways, eyes blown out as they focus on your gorgeous body utterly surrendered to him, limp against his chest as he splays his fingers over your womb. “You wanna be filled? Wanna give me an heir for Onychinus?”
God, the very thought makes your head spin. “Please,” you whine, beginning to resonate with him once more as you arch violently into his chest. “More, I need more, please- fuck- don’t you dare s-stop.”
“Linkon’s righteous guardian and the White Wolf.” You don’t even realize it, but you’ve begun to match his thrusts, grinding down in his lap to meet his ruthless cadence. “We’d be unstoppable. You want that? Tell me-” his pleas break into a low moan, words slurred together as he pulls you closer, ramming you up and down as you can do nothing more than dig bloody lines down his enormous shoulders and chest. “Tell me you want it, need it- hah- tell me you’ll choose me.”
His cockhead rams against your bruised g-spot with each word, even when his voice breaks into senseless groans as he falls prey to your pretty little cunt trying to suck him in further and further still. And right as you feel yourself slipping, you pull him into a messy kiss - if it can even be called that, just a frenzied, messy drag of his lips against your open mouth, licking and sucking at your teeth. 
“I can never escape you.”
You don’t know who cums first- you only feel the heat surge in the base of your throat, heartbeat thumping erratically against your ears and cunt, falling into Sylus’ chest as the warmth takes you. Warm, everything is warm, burning up even without the aphrodisiac as you feel rope after rope of his seed paint the inside of your walls white, excess drooling out of your sensitive folds. 
Every ragged breath comes out in a mist against your ears, Sylus’ hair damp and stuck to his forehead and your own as he fights to control his breathing. His eyes are still locked where the two of you connect, fingers releasing your waist to try and shove his cum back inside. 
You hiss at the contact, trying to squirm away as you fall backwards, taking Sylus with you as your back hits the drenched marble. “Let go of me.”
Sylus raises a brow, lips curling over his teeth. “I’m not the one who's trapping us together.” He taps your legs still wrapped around his waist, and immediately you relax, shivering as you feel Sylus’ cock finally slide out of you. 
Even after all that you feel the lingering effects of the toxin bubble under your skin. Sated, for now, but far from gone. Hell, you think you might die if you have to go through that again. 
“We need to get to a hospital,” you say, refusing to meet Sylus’ eyes as you try to stand. Only for your knees to immediately buckle. 
Luckily, Sylus is there to catch you, pulling you into his arms before scooping you up to his chest. “Firstly, there is no hospital in the N109 Zone nor Linkon City that would admit me.” He stands with frustrating ease as the misty tendrils of his Evol cover your bare body like a second skin. “Secondly, we’re not exactly in a state where they wouldn’t begin asking questions, don’t you agree, kitten?”
You all but hiss at him, only making the man laugh harder until he winces, staggering slightly as you feel his skin grow hot again. It’s clear Sylus isn’t completely freed from the aphrodisiac either, the sheer volume the two of you must have breathed in during the initial attack far past the mortal limit. 
Not a hospital, fine. A doctor then. 
“I know a place.” You whisper, and Sylus narrows his eyes. “He won’t ask questions, and we’re already running out of time. Who knows how long the effects will last, and if anyone will know how to actually cure this it’ll be him.” 
“And I’m supposed to trust you, sweetie?”
You laugh, curt and humorless. “You don’t have a choice.”
Sylus goes quiet, but you can hear the argument raging in his head, brows furrowed as he scowls at open air. Another shiver rakes through your body, and you unconsciously press yourself closer, already dreading what will happen when the aphrodisiac comes back full force. 
But the sight of you, trembling and utterly vulnerable in his arms tugs at something forgotten, and Sylus relents. 
“Very well, tell me where to go.”
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