Yoichi Isagi X F!reader 𑣲 Quickie

Im sorry, I have to bother Osamu

——

“I swear to god I’m going to lock you in the bedroom.”

For whatever reason, Osamu decided that this was the night out he was going to dress down, usually sticking with jeans and a sweatshirt for most of the nights with the boys. Tonight however, he looks damn intoxicating, he looks like a bad mistake you’re more than willing to make: muscles jammed in a compression shirt that slightly cinches his waist, settled over the band of his grey sweats that cuff at his ankles. They sit low on his hips and good lord if he doesn’t hide the band of his boxers, you’re going to lose your mind.

“I look bad or somethin?”

“You think you’re gonna leave the house looking that fine! No. You look way too good to be sitting at Bokuto’s house. What do you think this is?”

He snickers as he ties his shoes, “baby, its just the boys-“

“I don’t trust you with that Sunarin. Don’t make me fight him off with a stick.”

He shakes his head and licks his lips, and you groan in frustration as he looks somehow even more fine looking.

He shakes his head and gently reaches up to rub his neck, “I'm so used to you being the eye candy, it's hard to think I could compete-"

“This is not about me,” you say breathlessly, and he gives you a quiet ‘sorry,’ before letting his shy, smiling face turn away. “You, Miya Osamu, are a god amongst mere maggots, and I shouldn’t have the permission to gaze upon you.”

He snorts and shakes his head, “you literally popped a black head on my nose yesterday, shut up.”

“That doesn’t stop you from being an absolute heartthrob.” Your swooning only makes his cheeks heat up more, and he chokes out a shy “stop,” before licking his teeth to try and break the smile on his now sore cheeks.

Quickly, you toss your arms around his neck and plant more than a few kisses to his jawline, noisy and wet, and it has him snorting.

“You’re so pretty,” you whine.

“Thank you, baby.”

“Literally going to wifey you up- you’re so handsome.”

“Shut up!” He titters.

You groan and gently cup his cheeks, “just a few more kisses, shut up and take them.” His lips are pursed out from the squishing of his cheeks as you plant a few kisses around his face, littering his nose and above his eyebrows. When you pass a kiss over his lips, he pushes out to chase the affection.

"You're so handsome." Kiss. "Truly ruining my life." Kiss. "I'd sacrifice my own left foot just to be in the same space as you." Your kiss moves up to his forehead, "literally let me be obsessed with you."

Kiss.

Kiss.

One long kiss.

You go to kiss him again, but you stop quickly as the consequences of your affection glares back at you. Instantly, your hands cover your mouth in shock, and he gives you a small chuckle as he quirks a brow at you, “what’re you lookin’ at?”

“Igaveyouahickey.”

“Huh?”

“Igaveyouahickey,” you repeat, your voice now pitched higher and more frantic. He chuckles again, this time a little more nervous before adjusting the tight cuff of his compression sleeve.

“Very funny, babe.”

You shake your head, “I wish I had those comedic capabilities, Osamu.”

With a gnaw of his lip, he gives you a deep inhale through his nose, “you gave me a hickey… on my forehead?”

“I’m so sorry-“

“how… did you give me a hickey on my forehead?”

“When… when-when I was kissing you,” you begin, now trying to hide your laughter because damn, this is pretty funny- “I think I kissed you too hard.”

“I don’t think this was a kiss, I think it’s when you sucked my face,” he says in exhaustion, working up the courage to look in the camera of his phone. He tucks his lips in to fight off his own smile, and that causes you to finally break out in laughter. Your arms clutch your sides as he stares at himself; he doesn’t blink. He doesn’t flinch. Just a close-smile stare.

“And what exactly do you plan to do to help me with this?” He asks, full knowing you don’t have a plan. You beam up innocently, and he knows that this is not going work and he’s going to walk into Bokuto’s house with bags of food and a damned purple hickey above his eyebrow.

You stalk over to him and reach your hand up and into his hair, dragging out the not-so neat locks to have some longer chunks in the center of his forehead and just above his brow, “here. Now no one will know!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!”

“Are your pants on fire, you LIAR?”

You snicker and pull back, admiring him and the pretty purple mark on his head. "It brings out your eye color."

"Oh, thank God, I was worried."

You laugh and make your way back into his arms, and he embraces you happily. "At least I don't have to worry about anyone taking you from me tonight,” you tease.

He smiles and kisses your lips, nipping at them to make you squeak, "never have to worry about that ever, baby."

"Except with Sunarin."

"Not true-“

"And Akaashi-san."

He smirks, "you may lose me to Akaashi-san."

"That's very fair."

─── Sanctuary // B. Katsuki

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader — Word count: 30k

Content warnings: coworkers -> lovers, eventual smut, all chapters will have their own warnings, commissioned series

Summary: Surely there can be no consequences falling in love with your explosive boss, right? A series following the trials and tribulations of falling in love (deeper, deeper, deeper) with The Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight (but with you, it’s Katsuki, always Katsuki).

Chapter one: In the early morning, my yearning soul laid bare

Chapter two: No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her

Chapter three: I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door

Chapter four: You’re my sanctuary

───

Bonus chapter: Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue

(All the fics) Masterlist:

****

Keep reading

ISAGI YOICHI was already enamoured from just the soft pink blush which glazed your cheeks, fingers wrapped around a small plastic bag as he looked down at you in surprise. Not once in his sixteen years of living had he ever received something on this somewhat momentous day, besides from a few mindless sweets from a classmate. So he was quite surprised when the person he had been secretly plotting on was standing right in front of him, heart bared to him and all.

His eyes flickered between your nervous expression and the high-quality handmade chocolates which were enveloped between your shaking fingers. A small smile found its way onto his lips, eyes crinkled endearingly as he let out a small chuckle, catching your attention. 

He took the pink plastic bag into his own hands, admiring the sprinkle ridden sweets which it cased. He had already seen the candy which you had given to your classmates, a mere comparison to the ones he withheld now. It was cute - how every detail was perfected, down to the placement of a pearl-like sprinkle. 

“Isagi, I-” You stop yourself. Lips stuttered open and close, blush only deepening once his lips pulled into a smirk. 

He let his head cock to the side, watching you with a curious eye as you fumbled over your words, over his name, unable to compose the jumble of thoughts running through your head. He took a step forward as your eyes trailed down to the floor again, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of your white uniform.

Honestly, he wanted to hear your confession fall from pink lips more than he’d like to imagine, which is why he found himself tugging you a bit closer, leaning into your ear to whisper,

“You were saying?”

He could almost feel the fire which seeped from your cheeks, finding seclusion pressed against his chest. Your face, flushed a pretty shade of burgundy, looked up at him curiously, somewhat surprised at the almost intimate arm he wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. 

Isagi had decided that, if you weren’t going to say it, then he would.

“Do you like me too?” He mumbled softly, fingers brushing against your shirt-clothed arm as he tugged you closer. You nodded, and he pressed his lip together tightly, suppressing a sweet sound which threatened to bubble out of his throat. He was so captivated by everything about you, how you melted so perfectly against him.

Maybe that’s why he found himself the next month, spending tireless hours tempering his own rich, delicate bonbons with a perfectly arranged bouquet of your favourite florals, sitting opulent, on the counter nearby.

©heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

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breaths are shortening, vision is blurring, throat is closing, stomach is aching what the FUCK do you mean NAGI IS ELIMINATED💔💔💔

good n plenty

pairing: rin okumura + reader

warnings: light angst, hurt w/comfort

now playing 🎶 : good & plenty by alex isley, masego, + jack dine

an: hello !! this is my first time writing fics on tumblr ! while written elsewhere, i thought it would be amazing to try this out here now bc now or never lolol.

“You know you really don’t have to be here, right? feels like you’re monitoring me at this point.”

“Monitoring you? I can’t simply spend time with my boyfriend?”

The words came off as playful, but while his tone mirrored yours, you knew what he meant.

See, Rin Okumura eventually had come to terms with who he was. While it took a bit longer than he had wanted, he knew who he was inside and out.

Being Satan’s son was the heaviest burden anyone could carry, and Rin had fallen victim to that.

With every event that had transpired so far in his life, from the Blue Night to Kyoto and other following events he accepted the fact that he was Satan’s son.

Satan. A fallen angel, once radiant and powerful, who defied divine authority and was casted out of Heaven. A symbol of evil, human frailty even and the enemy of God. A being who sought to destroy God’s children and bring nothing but destruction.

But Rin Okumura?

Oh, nothing hurt more than to see how wrong people could be about this careful being.

Rin was anything but destructive. If anything, he’s more gentle than anyone you’ve ever met.

With the kindest words and the gentlest of gazes towards you, you never understood what it was about you that caught his eyes.

And each time you asked whether it be a joke or not, you were always met with his softness and light words.

“Because you see me.”

And that, made him more human and less of a spawn.

You saw him for his eccentric self, whether it’s over his cooking for him and his brother. Or how Kuro slept the previous night and he’s showing the 45 pictures he took.

Whether it be how he’s excited he’s invited out of a simple game of baseball with the other ex wires or an older woman took time out of her day to chat with him, you saw him for who he was.

Not what he was forced to be.

Sometimes though, the reminders of who he is catch up to him and he’s left shaken up with fear and doubt. The fear of his friends leaving him for good, of losing Yukio, or even losing you.

You received a call at 3 am and now you’re snuck into the dorms, not caring that he’s seeing you with crazed hair and your athletic-based pajamas.

“Plus it sounded like you realllllly wanted me here. Didn’t we just have a date? Didn’t know you’d miss me that much.” The cheesy grin was enough to make the boy scoff.

“Hey- I have a cat I can also talk to-“

“Who I can’t understand-“

“And go back into my super comfortable twin bed by myself. Well. With him too.”

It wasn’t long before you were laughing gently at his banter, reminding yourself Yukio was asleep down the hall.

If he were awake he’d certainly scold you two for being up so late.

“Well, can Kuro enjoy some nice chamomile tea and spend time with you like this?”

It was unfortunately also a late night with heavy storms, the drops pattering against the windows. It was loud and clear for the two of you, and you had managed to distract Rin for a bit from it (in case he felt guilty for making you come here).

As he glances over at a window from the empty cafeteria, you stare at his features for a bit and exhale through your nostrils.

What you would give to ease his troubles, to take away all of his fears and insecurities. It was a late night and he clearly had a nightmare, one which his friends had shunned and demeaned him for his heritage.

While not possible with all you guys have been through as exwires, who are you to dismiss that?

You’ll never understand the full extent of it, but you’ll be there as much as you can for him.

“Rin?”

His head turns from the window to look at you, a puzzled look on his features.

His expression was precious enough you’re already smiling, eyes crinkled and teeth showing. Thumb drawing patterns on the back of his hand, you hum.

“You’re… you’re so good. You’re just… a beautiful being.”

The words caught him off guard, and both of you sat in a moment of silence.

Him? Good?

Are you sure you’re talking about him?

“But-“

“You’re a gift from the universe, a blessing to many. You’re choosing a life for yourself, and defying anyone else who disagrees. Who tells you what you should be and what you are. Except…” You frown, and that worries him for a moment.

“I wish you saw how wonderful you are from my eyes.”

Wonderful.

Wonderful? All he can remember being called is aggressive, a brute, hell even a thug.

But a blessing? Wonderful? Satan would be laughing if he heard the formal.

But…

Hands withdrawing from him, you chuckle to yourself out of meekness. “Maybe that’s a bit much. Sorry if it was weird-“

Your words died in your throat when his arms engulfed you, yelping a little from the force. Your arms hung in the air uselessly as you tried to look at your boyfriend.

“Rin?”

“Stay the night with me.”

“Huh? But-“

“Please.”

The word is forced out, in a way which you understand in a snap. His hug was tight, body trembling and voice strained.

Brushing his locks down for comfort, you stand from your chair and nod. “Okay.”

With you in his arms, his soul was able to find a little bit more peace. The tranquility of the rain and him holding you close to his chest brought on sleep to him.

For so long, he had been haunted by the echoes of his past, the weight of his bloodline threatening to drown him in despair.

But in your arms, he found sanctuary — a haven where his flaws were not condemned, but embraced with love and understanding.

And just like that, he fell asleep and remained asleep throughout the rest of the night.

Until of course, a very hungry cat woke him up and an irritated younger brother scolded you both for this recklessness.

It was all worth it in the end for Rin.

(teehee I didn’t proofread so sorry for any mistakes; I wrote this at 2 am.)

SATORU’S PRINCESS - TWITTER LINKS

He loves your cherry titties

Watching his cum drip from your pussy

Fingering his cuffed up baby doll

You’re too small for him

Wishing him sweet dreams before bed

Wanting him to do you bareback

Teasing his sweet princess

Reaching your belly from inside

Playing skateboard on your ass

He’s got your thighs shaking

Fucking you in his dorm room (let’s hope Suguru won’t hear)

Too much cum

Taking care of his school girl

Letting Suguru join in while he fucks you

Swore up and down I’d never do this but it’s too high achool Satoru coded not to… also, we’re assuming he’s 18 u guys chill

THE TERRIBLE EGOIST — i.y

⛤ isagi yoichi x fem! reader

The popular football player rejected you and didn’t expect you to get over him so easily. If you liked him before he can get you to like him again.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampie(s). oral (f. receiving). jerk isagi. dub-con. rough sex. pet names (baby, pretty, princess). finger sucking. marking. overstimulation. multiple orgasms + mention of multiple rounds. pussy drunk isagi. college au. intoxication. mentions of alcohol. +18!

wc: 2.9k

Isagi yoichi was the biggest egoist of them all. His popularity of being the best football player on the team at a university he attends and of course his good looks that kept his reputation up and the girls in line. He couldn’t simply ruin that with having girlfriend or anything that had to do with dating. He had only one thing to be stressed about and that was football. Though it sure wasn’t a problem if he just had his fun.

He was use to it, rejecting girls because he wants to focus on his upcoming games and he had no time for relationships. That didn’t stop them from at least trying again once or twice, maybe more than that. No one could get over him, that’d be impossible in his egotistic mind. Even people are to be warned not to be messed with him because he would easily tell you he doesn’t do that kind of “stuff” after just him making out with you 30 seconds ago.

He’s not mean about it though, he wouldn’t tell you to straight up thats he’s just not interested in you instead he says it sincerely even though he knows what he’s doing and how to do it, letting them down easy he knows they always come back anyways. Isagi loathes in the feeling of being adored, if he could get it from his fans he can get it from somewhere else and a different audience. How else could he keep himself entertained with the ladies?

“I really do like you Isagi” Then there was a long pause when you waited for him to answer, he rubs the back of his neck and stares at the ground before he could give you the bad news.

“‘M sorry I don’t really do relationships, I just want to focus on my career and I don’t want ‘dating’ to get in the way of that..we can always be friends though?”

You were confused, you don’t get it? He was flirting and teasing you for weeks. You were hanging out a lot, people would’ve been convinced you both were dating. You never kissed or held hands but surely it had to be obvious. Your friends convinced you that he liked you back, no guy would act that way towards a girl he doesn’t like or wouldn’t want to take things further with? Was he just leading you on?

“Uh..yeah i understand...” you really didn’t, you wanted to ask him why but he would probably repeat what he just said.

Isagi sighs like he has not gone through many let downs and watch the disappointment of his victim. “No hard feelings?”

“Yeah..none”

Then it’s been a week since he hasn’t seen you. Usually they come back in a day or two in his book so why haven’t you? It shouldn’t stress him out about it, it’s just longer than he expected it to be. His stupid ego got the best of him and his way of thinking that he could have every girl begging on their knees for him.

Jealousy bites him in the back when he’s sees you talking to other guys especially the ones on his team, he shouldn’t be jealous? He doesn’t even like you, he’s the one who rejected you so why does it eat at him? He wasn’t focused on anyone but you not paying him no mind, he’ll walk by you expecting to connect eye contact but you’ll be chatting up with your friends like he doesn’t exist. Maybe he could try to get you to like him again to fill his ego, yeah that’s probably it. You guys never made out or had sex, that was maybe the problem and he just had to do that.

You slowly became irritated when he kept trying to talk to you though they were just failed conversations. You didn’t know why he was trying to talk to you and you were trying to avoid him, how else could you move on from him?

He invites you to a party for tonight as a start of a friendship he wanted to build with you hoping you weren’t still upset with him, your friends really wanted to go since his teammates would be there and you agreed taking a chance with Isagi. You had a gut feeling but you didn’t know whether it was good or bad, you just knew something was to come as he grins to himself when you said yes. A scheme he has planned behind his soft smile.

Isagi being an athlete, he wasn’t a drinker though he offered you one, another one, also two more. Honestly you stopped counting after the second. Perhaps it was the alcohol but you started to feel glad that you and Isagi come to an agreement to be friends. Maybe you were too harsh, maybe he genuinely wanted to be friends as you were trying to ignore him this whole time.

The way your hands started to feel clammy because he kept staring at you, you felt as if his gaze your burning into your skin, you felt nervous, rubbing your hands on your dress. Why are you feeling nervous? You don’t like him, well you used to. You tried to push the thoughts away that he is cute, no he was and isn’t still you don’t really like him? You wonder if it was just your drunken mind playing tricks on you or the feelings were coming back again and he can read you good.

“Don’t do that..” he tilts his head at you as if he were oblivious however he knows all too well. “Don’t do what?”

“You’re looking at me like...” you didn’t want to assume or flat out say it, you shrug because you didn’t know what to add on or decide not to jump to conclusions, Isagi laughs to himself.

He’s a good guy with no rude intentions, yet he’s leading you by the hand upstairs in a unoccupied room.

“Why are we in here?” You sat on the edge of the bed watching him shut the door behind him “it’s quieter for us” he sat right next to you, he didn’t leave space between you both he was so close his figure was towering over you and you can feel his body warmth emit on your arm. You don’t know why you didn’t ask him another question about you both here alone when the party is clearly downstairs.

His hand is rubbing your inner thigh, his fingers are carefully slipping up your dress and his lips softly brushes against yours so it wasn’t fully a kiss, you didn’t know if you should so you mutter “I thought we were friends now Isagi”

“We are..unless you like me now..?”

“I-i don’t know…” you rubbed your knees together

“We’ll see” he kisses you roughly, honestly he’s trying to at least bruise your lips. You try to take in as much breaths but he doesn’t allow you to, his tongue blocking your airway in your mouth and your breathing heavily through your nose.

As he’s basically consuming you, his hand that was placed in your inner thigh moved towards to your covered pussy. Your hands grasp his arm to stop his fingers massaging your folds through your underwear. When his lips began attacking your neck you whine out his name when you start to feel the heat increase throughout your body, you felt you were gonna melt.

You smelt good as he placed wet kisses on your neck, sucking lightly on your skin leaving colored hues and moved onto another blank space of your skin he could mark. Isagi never thought it’d be easy to get you here, he might’ve thought wrong that you’d be difficult to get you where he needed you to be and he’s only kissing your neck and playing with your pussy behind your panties.

He presses lightly on it and you let out a shattered breath “Right here?” And he starts to rub your clit in circular motion. If you were sober without an drop of alcohol you probably wouldn’t let Isagi have his way with you, but you’re moaning under your breath, your jutting your hips against his hand, your eyes fluttered when he reaches under you rubbing the outside of your cunt.

Your mind getting slightly fuzzy you decided to fall onto your back on the soft bed when you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore. “Come on baby you can’t give up on me now” he takes off your shoes before he climbed onto the bed to spread your legs open.

“I can’t” you shake your head though you’re not kicking back to stop, you let him feel up your sides because his touch is warm and made you feel good, it had to be the alcohol lingering in your system or your feelings for Isagi are starting to come back even though you were helping yourself get over him before you came to this party “I just want you to like me princess” sounding sincere when he places a quick kiss on your lips, he lifts up your dress over your stomach to pull your panties down your hips and off your legs.

He’s caressing your thighs, riling you up and pampering kisses between your inner legs his face drawing dangerously close to your bare pussy. His hands push your thighs nearly to your stomach, giving you a peck on your cunt and the warm wet muscle ghost over your cunt making your breathing harder than it should be.

It was like he was making out with your pussy, his lips and tongue burying deep in your pussylips, his arms were locked around your thighs so you couldn’t pull away, you could only move your lower legs and you writhed on the bed in bliss and constantly moaned his name. “Ah! Isagi!..hah!” You could be as loud as you wanted because the music was loud enough to hide your pathetic whines.

Your hands grip the sheets underneath you until his tongue flicked your clit, sucking on it slow your hand reaches for his dark hair, your fingers tangling through his locks at the top of his head. “Oh-my g-ah!…” you sputtered, he’s still eating you out like a hungry man.

He’s lost into licking and sucking on your sweet pussy, your fingers tugging on his hair and moaning his name is making his dick hard, he’s growing amusement of his licks that are long and slow, dragging up on your clit and his lips wrap around it. Your hips are moving up and down, grinding on his face. If he could have you sit on his face he would but he needed you to cum, cum on his lips.

You started to become more squirmy when you feel your cunt twitch and your clit burning to cum when he sucks harder. Your hand through his hair tightening and your moans were becoming high pitched.

You rolled your head back moaning his name when you feel yourself cum on his mouth, his lips wouldn’t detach from your fluttering pussy and continued to use his mouth until he was ready to be done. After a bit though he didn’t want to work you up on another orgasm so he halted himself from eating you further more.

“You taste so good princess y’know that?” He comes up on top of you and to offer you a sloppy kiss whilst he’s unbuttoning his pants to pull out his hardened cock. You brought your hands behind his neck to keep kissing you more, the taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. you were already defeated when you first came into this room and you let him feel you up, you wanted to beat yourself up for it but you’re too dazed out of your mind to care, kissing Isagi now when you never got to before, you just wanted him in the moment.

Isagi gave himself a couple strokes, he opens your legs for more entry and with no warning your tight walls are being pushed aside by his cock when he slowly sheaved himself in, you gasp loudly by the disturbance of his dick intruding your pussy. Your breathing was shaky and Isagi hisses when you grip him tight and didn’t bother giving you a chance to process his dick inside you when he starts his hungry thrusts.

“Isagi-”

“Sorry princess..i gotta fuck you now” he was so harsh and fast, he was bullying you. The egoists cock was rubbing so relentlessly in your pussy, you’re moaning so much and each time he makes sure he slams his cock deep. He squeezes your tits and he wasn’t soft with them either, he was kneading them in his hand like hard dough.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me fuck you and here I thought you didn’t like me anymore..do you like me now? I know you do” you didn’t have to say yes, he already answered for you, you were too overwhelmed to speak though you could whine with your fingers slightly over your mouth so you could breathe.

He moves your hand out of your face as his thumb slips between your lips into your mouth, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your tongue. “That’s it baby suck on it” your lips wrap around his thumb just like how he had demanded.

You hummed with his thumb in your mouth, batting your pretty eyelashes at him and he grits his teeth with his stamina rising even more from the way you look at him, like you were purposely doing it to get him to fuck you even harder like as he was pounding into you anyways. He couldn’t let you get to him, it had to be the other way around.

“Looking at me like that pretty?-ah!” His cock jerked inside, knowing he was about to release his cum the more he constantly pushed his dick in and out of you. His jaw hung open, panting and moaning when he feels his nerves on fire. As you were about to touch yourself he rubbed your clit with his wet thumb that was settling in your mouth so you both can cum together.

“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum Isagi!” Isagi is so rough with you, him adding onto more to build your orgasm intensively circling your sweet bud.

Shock takes over his face when your legs wrap around his waist and you pleaded him “please cum inside me! Please Isa-!” Did you just beg him to? He was going to anyway though he didn’t expect you to practically be desperate for it that your legs are secured around his waist. Fuck, why did his heart just sink?

“Y-yeah, I’ll cum right in you, just for you princess” he growled, his last thrust he sunk deep into your spasming walls and his pushed down on your clit. Your eyelids twitched feeling his cum empties in your womb, your body quivered, it felt like stars were floating everywhere around you. “‘ts feels good..f-feels ‘s good” you whined.

Isagi bit his bottom lip gazing at your pretty tired face, This wasn’t how this was supposed to go, he couldn’t keep up his ego anymore. He grew hard again and the only thoughts running through his head was wanting to fuck you again.

How long has it been? Two, four rounds, more? Both your bodies would completely stripped off of clothes, sweat mixing together that his hair was slightly damp. The music still booming loud as ever outside meaning people were still here which you both had completely forgotten since you were both gone into drowning in pleasure. Isagi is still in between your legs, pounding into your swollen pussy that had a brimful of his cum because he came so many times like he was still a starving caveman needing more.

Isagi is so deep into your pussy he forgot what was his motive the whole time, you’re mewling for him to stop but damn you look so pretty, why did he reject you again? He couldn’t even remember anything before he got into this room with you because of the delight of your hot cunt had him hooked. His arms beside your head as he watched you cry from the sensitivity of your previous orgasms he drew out of you. His heart fluttering in his chest when you wrap your arms around his neck and whimper his name.

You both couldn’t think correctly but just thinking about how much it feels like heaven and the need to cum again.

“‘m about to cum again Isagi!” You repeated again before, He nodded while he was also cum again and damn he was so out of energy of pulling orgasm after orgasm, his breaths were shattered, his thrusts were sloppy. His tongue hanging from his mouth like he had fight to finish. “‘m cumming too-fuck!” Another addictive feeling washing over you both at the same time, once again he gives you another bundle of his cum.

Isagi finally caught his breath and noticed your leg’s couldn’t stop trembling. “F-fuck Isagi, I’m shaking…” you murmured. His stomach was in knots and not because he had just came but he was going against his own rules he made up the beginning. His evil scheme had failed when he came down to kiss you again but it was softer, didn’t bother pulling out, he rose back up with straight up determination in his eyes.

“Be my girlfriend..”

No cause you’re so right

Bottom Kuroo just needs to be more of a thing. Please?!?!?!? ANYONE??

Shattered Birdcage

Word Count: 9.5k

Summary: Sylus loses control due to the Frenzy Enhancer and you don't find the activater in time...causing him to become sexually aggressive and desperate to claim you for himself :3

Tags: praedator!Sylus x fem!reader, predator x prey, noncon, intense choking, rough sex, forced orgasm, degradation, biting, blood, injury, cunnilingus, creampie, threats, mentions of breeding, nicknames like little bird, near death experience (no one actually dies don't worry!!), fluffy ending to soften the blow :33

Taglist: @magpie-the-goblin-girl @sxremmie @lem-hhn @silverbrain @sizzlingtigerkitten @msslytherin00 @letharue @yu-irene @poptrim @monster-effer @ditsynddotsy @size0forhollywood @its-regretti @queenofstresss @reiheis @valentinared

AN: Hiii guys!! Are we enjoying the new banner? I AM! This is literally a dream come true for me. So I decided to write a fic based on it with a little twist hehe. Please heed the warnings guys, this is a very intense fic and I tagged it accordingly. This is legitmately straight up noncon, not cnc. If you asked for a tag and weren't tagged its cause I couldn't find your age on your profile anywhere, sorry! Enjoy!

You exhale slowly, fingers brushing over the edges of the movie tickets still tucked in your pocket before letting them go. The paper crinkles softly, a fragile reminder of something almost normal. But it doesn’t belong to you anymore. Maybe it never did.

Then, the world shatters.

The fire alarm shrills, a piercing, agonizing wail that erupts through the hospital like a banshee’s scream. Panic spreads instantly, as sudden and violent as a tidal wave crashing over an unprepared shore.

The chaos begins.

Screams.

Heavy, frantic footsteps thunder down the halls. The sterile walls of the hospital, once cold and quiet, now tremble with the desperate energy of fear. The mechanical beep of heart monitors, the faint hum of fluorescent lights—all of it drowns beneath the raw, unfiltered sound of survival.

Somewhere outside your room, a woman’s voice splinters the air.

"Fire! Help!"

Her cry is swallowed by the deafening roar of the alarm, by the clatter of overturned medical carts, by the stampede of bodies flooding the halls. A shadow streaks past the glass window of your door, her silhouette vanishing into the growing plumes of smoke curling along the ceiling.

Then—movement behind you. You turn, locking eyes with Sylus. He doesn’t flinch.

He leans casually against the wall, utterly unbothered by the pandemonium unraveling around you. Smoke licks at the edges of his leather top, but he remains still, red eyes gleaming with something sharp, knowing, entertained. The ghost of a smirk plays at his lips.

"They’re right on schedule," he murmurs, his voice smooth, unaffected, like this is nothing more than a carefully executed performance.

He extends his hand toward you, as if inviting you into a dance.

Your pulse kicks up, but you don’t hesitate. You take his hand.

His fingers curl around yours—strong, steady, warm despite the growing heat. With a single pull, you propel yourself forward, slipping past the threshold of the hospital room and into the chaos beyond.

Smoke greets you first, thick and curling, its acrid tendrils slithering into your lungs like a living thing. The air is already changing—heat warping it, bending it, making it heavier. The moment you inhale, your throat burns. You clamp your sleeve over your mouth, but the effort is futile. The stench of burning plastic and antiseptic chemicals invades your senses, clawing at your eyes, your nose, your lungs.

Outside, the scene is worse.

Patients in hospital gowns stumble through the smoke, their movements disjointed, frantic. Some clutch at IV stands like lifelines, others trip over their own feet, disoriented by the blaring alarms and the thick, suffocating haze.

Doctors and nurses shout over the chaos, their voices lost in the hurricane of fear. Someone grabs your arm—a patient, her face streaked with sweat and panic, begging for help—but you pull away. You don’t have time.

You aren’t here to run.

You and Sylus move against the current, pushing past the flood of bodies surging toward the exits. The sheer force of them is overwhelming, a sea of desperation crashing around you, dragging you under. A body collides with yours their fingers tangling in your sleeve—but you break free, heart hammering as you surge toward the stairwell.

"We’ll lead them to the rooftop!" you yell, the words raw in your throat.

Sylus doesn’t answer, but he’s right beside you, his presence like a gravitational pull you can’t escape.

The stairwell looms ahead, doors thrown open as black smoke pours inside, bleeding into the emergency lights like a living shadow. The second you reach it, you don’t hesitate.

You take the stairs two, three at a time, Sylus still close behind you.

The heat is worse here. It rises from below, clawing at your legs, your back, the nape of your neck. Your breath comes in ragged bursts, your lungs searing, aching, screaming for fresh air. Each step feels like an eternity, each turn of the stairwell winding tighter, suffocating.

But you don’t stop.

Then—light.

A final shove against the rooftop doors, and you break through.

The moment you stumble outside, the temperature drops violently.

The cold slaps you across the face, stealing the breath from your lungs, shocking your overheated body into momentary stillness. The wind howls, slicing through the thick sweat on your skin, tangling through your hair, but it does nothing to mute the screams below.

And these screams are different.

Not panicked. Not desperate.

Dying.

A sickening weight drops into your stomach. Sylus steps up beside you, his stance tense, rigid, watchful. He doesn’t need to say it. You already know.

Ever’s assassins are here.

Your skin prickles as you scan the rooftop, the smoke too thick, the night too quiet. You can feel it in your bones—something is waiting.

Then—a shadow moves.

Then another.

Then—

Gunfire.

The first shot splits the air like a knife through silk.

You react instinctively, twisting your body out of the way as the bullet slams into the concrete near your foot, sending a sharp spray of dust and shattered stone into the air.

Another shot.

Sylus shoves you sideways, his movements lightning-fast, the force of it throwing you just out of the bullet’s path. Another impact—a bullet embedding itself into the rooftop behind where you had been standing only seconds before.

A crack split the air, followed by another. Sparks erupted as bullets ricocheted off metal pipes and rooftop vents, spraying embers into the night. Instinct kicked in before thought—you dropped low, rolling to the side just as a round zipped past your ear, embedding itself in the wall behind you.

Sylus moved with effortless precision, dodging fire as if it were choreographed. His jacket billowed as he twisted, reaching for his blade. A flash of steel. A wet gurgle. One assassin crumpled before he even realized he was dead.

You pivoted on your heel, raising your own weapon. A pull of the trigger—a sharp crack through the air. The man before you barely had time to react before the bullet found its mark. His body jerked violently, blood misting into the wind before he collapsed.

Another shot. Another fall.

They kept coming.

More shadows emerged from the darkness, gunfire tearing through the night in an unrelenting onslaught. You both wove through them like ghosts, striking fast, striking first. Your heart pounded as you ducked beneath a swing, countering with a sharp jab to the ribs, twisting your opponent’s wrist until his own weapon turned against him. A single shot. A final breath.

Sylus barely broke a sweat, his movements fluid, brutal, decisive. He drove his blade into one assassin’s chest, twisting just enough to make it agonizing. The man gasped, a short, choked sound before Sylus wrenched the blade free and let him drop.

"Pathetic," he muttered, stepping over the body without a second glance.

More gunfire. More bodies dropping.

Silence.

The last assassin twitched once, then stilled, his fingers curling in the pool of blood spreading beneath him. The night was thick with the scent of gunpowder, metal, and death.

And then—sirens.

A chorus of wailing alarms grew louder in the distance, flashing red and blue bleeding into the night sky.

The battlefield of bodies lay still, the chaos settled into an eerie quiet. The stench of gunpowder and iron filled your lungs, coating your throat with the acrid tang of death. The last spent cartridges hit the concrete, rolling in slow, uneven circles before finally resting among the carnage. Smoke lingered in the cold night air, twisting in delicate tendrils around the lifeless figures strewn across the rooftop.

You pushed out a slow breath, feeling the adrenaline still burning in your veins. Your fingers flexed around the grip of your weapon before you finally holstered it. The police would be here soon, their sirens growing louder in the distance, but they weren’t your concern. These bodies—the nameless, faceless pawns of Ever—would be cleaned up. Their presence erased. Their deaths categorized as classified in some sealed document, buried beneath bureaucratic nonsense.

"Sylus, we're clear! Let's move!" your voice came out sharper than you intended, urgency overtaking you.

He didn’t respond right away.

He was standing unnervingly still, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with something unreadable. His expression was neutral, but there was an intensity in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, a glint of something dark that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. His movements were slow as he wiped away the smear of blood on his cheek, his fingers leaving faint streaks of red against his skin. The way he stood—too relaxed, too quiet—set off alarm bells in your mind, though you couldn’t yet pinpoint why.

Something in his expression made your gut clench. His usual amused arrogance was absent, replaced with something darker. His pupils were slightly blown, the faintest edge of something feral lurking in his gaze. The air around him felt charged, electric. Wrong.

Then a sound.

A wet, strangled cough.

You both turned.

The last assassin—one you had assumed was already dead—was still moving. Barely. He lay twisted on the ground, one arm stretched toward you, his fingers twitching, curled like claws. His chest rose and fell unevenly, each breath rattling, wet, his lungs failing him.

But his lips—coated in blood—were curled into a grotesque smile.

"Even though..." he wheezed, a broken chuckle rattling out from somewhere deep in his ruined throat. "We can't kill you or him..." He spat a thick glob of blood onto the ground, his grin stretching wider, his yellowed teeth bared like a rabid dog. "Both of you...can rot in hell!"

His fingers twitched, curling weakly around something small, something you hadn’t noticed before. Then, in one sharp motion, his fist clenched, and a sudden crack rang out. Glass shattered, the sharp snap almost lost in the cool air, but the moment you heard it, your stomach dropped. A dark, viscous liquid seeped between his fingers, mingling with the blood pooling on the rooftop floor.

Then you caught the scent.

It was faint at first, nearly masked by the coppery stench of death, but the moment it hit the back of your throat, your entire body locked up in realization. The chemical tang was sharp, bitter, something that curled into your lungs like acid. It was distinct. Familiar.

Your body reacted before your brain fully processed the danger.

"No—!"

Your pulse thundered in your skull.

The Frenzy Enhancer.

A biochemical compound designed for one thing: triggering an uncontrollable transformation in Praedators. The LCBI had confiscated hundreds of these vials from underground labs, tearing them away from illegal deals before they could be sold to the highest bidder. But no matter how much of it was taken off the streets, more always surfaced. It was unpredictable. Uncontrollable.

It worked fast—too fast.

You turned, heart pounding in your chest. Sylus had gone rigid, his muscles locking as though every nerve in his body had seized up at once. His breathing was deep, too deep, pulling in the scent like his body was craving it against his will. His head tilted slightly, nostrils flaring, a shudder running through him from head to toe.

A low, guttural growl rumbled from his chest, barely human.

Your blood turned to ice.

His pupils dilated until the irises nearly vanished, red pools swallowing the color in his gaze. His lips parted slightly, sharp, elongated canines catching the dim rooftop lights. He was salivating. A slick sheen of moisture gathered along his lower lip, his body trembling with the effort to hold himself together.

But he was losing the battle.

The Frenzy Enhancer wasn’t just a stimulant—it was a detonator. It bypassed control, restraint, morality. It didn’t just enhance what he was—it unchained it.

And right now, it was unraveling him.

"Sylus," you said carefully, your voice firm but measured. He twitched at the sound of his name, his head snapping toward you with a sharp, unnatural movement. His muscles trembled as if barely keeping himself together, but his gaze was locked onto you now—not as a comrade.

As prey.

You had seen this before as an Enforcer, watched it unfold in others who had been exposed to the drug. The Frenzy Enhancer didn’t just bring out what they were—it unchained them. It severed the link between logic and instinct, driving them into a state of raw, uncontrolled bloodlust. But this wasn’t just any Praedator—it was Sylus. He was already dangerously close to the edge even on a normal day, always teetering between control and destruction. Now, with the drug coursing through his system, you weren't sure how much time you had before he lost himself completely.

You had to move.

Reaching forward, you grabbed his arm, fingers locking tight around his wrist. His skin was hot, too hot. His entire body was trembling with need, his breath shuddering against his clenched teeth. The growl rumbling in his chest vibrated beneath your palm, every muscle in his arm wound taut like a spring waiting to snap.

"Come on," you gritted out, pulling him forward with force. He resisted, his stance firm, as though something inside him was battling whether to follow or attack. Your pulse thrummed in your throat.

Then he staggered.

It was slight, barely a misstep, but you used it. Yanking him forward, you dragged him across the rooftop, forcing his unsteady body toward the stairwell. His breath hitched in a ragged snarl, his movements twitchy, erratic, but he followed.

For now.

Each step was a battle. He stumbled against you, his balance skewed, his instincts fighting him at every turn. By the time you both reached the underground corridors of NightStrix HQ, his breathing had become ragged, his body burning up from the inside out. His restraint was slipping fast.

You shoved open the heavy steel door, dragging him inside. Deep within the base, hidden away from the rest of the world, the reinforced cage ready to hold the beast that was about to be unleashed.

Sylus grunted against you, his breath coming in hot, ragged bursts as you dragged you both into the containment cage. His body was burning up, his muscles twitching violently under your grip, every fiber of him trembling with the overwhelming need to break free. Each second that passed was a countdown to catastrophe. The Frenzy was about to take full hold, and if you didn’t restrain him now, you might not get another chance.

You fumbled with the heavy iron chains, fingers slick with sweat as you worked to loop one around his thrashing limbs. The muzzle. You needed to get the muzzle on first. Your heart pounded as you grabbed it from the steel hooks on the wall, forcing it over his mouth while he snarled, his body lurching violently against you.

"Sylus, stop—!"

He thrashed hard, nearly knocking you to the floor. His strength was unnatural, monstrous, and it was only getting worse. With a final shove, you managed to secure the muzzle around his face, locking the metal straps tightly at the back of his head. But before you could reach for the second chain, he bucked with terrifying force, sending you stumbling backward. You barely had time to clasp the restraint around one of his legs before you were forced to scramble out of the cage.

The second you slammed the heavy door shut, he lunged.

The impact rattled through the metal bars as his shoulder slammed into them, the force sending vibrations into the floor beneath you. You jumped, heart hammering in your ribs, your breath coming too fast. He slid down slightly, panting, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven gasps.

Then, without warning, he laughed.

A dark, guttural chuckle, low and mocking, twisted through the air like poison. His pupils were blown slightly wide now, black swallowing the color of his irises as he tilted his head toward you. Even through the muzzle, his teeth gleamed, sharp and lethal.

"Won’t you help me?" he rasped, his voice thick with something twisted—half-growl, half-seduction.

You froze.

He was still partially unrestrained. That single remaining chain wasn’t enough—if the Frenzy fully took hold, he could snap it in seconds. If you waited too long, he would be too far gone.

You had to finish restraining him now.

Swallowing the tight lump in your throat, you slowly stepped forward into the cage. Your pulse roared in your ears, your body screaming at you to run, but you forced your limbs to obey. You kept your eyes on him, watching every twitch of his muscles, every flicker of movement. You knelt, reaching for the second chain, moving with deliberate slowness so you wouldn’t startle him.

"I’m not going to watch you turn into a monster, but I—"

You never got to finish.

Sylus lunged.

A blur of motion—heat, strength, raw power.

You barely had time to react before white-hot pain exploded in your neck.

A strangled scream tore from your throat as his teeth sank into your flesh, piercing deep, his jaws locking down like a predator making its first kill. Agony shot through your nerves, the sharp burn of torn skin flooding your senses. Your vision whited out for a second, pain so intense it nearly stole your breath.

Then instinct took over.

You snarled, swinging your fist up hard, your knuckles cracking against his cheekbone with enough force to send his head snapping sideways. The impact jarred his teeth free, a sharp burst of pain ripping through you as he tore away from your skin. Blood dripped from the wound, warm and wet, seeping between your fingers as you clutched your neck in blind panic.

For a moment, all you could do was breathe through the pain.

The air was thick with the scent of your own blood, sharp and metallic, mixing with the sweat and heat that clung to you both. Your hands trembled as you pulled them away from the wound, your fingers smeared crimson. The realization sent a sickening chill through you.

He had bitten you.

Not just attacked. Bitten.

Your gaze shot back up to him.

Sylus was licking his lips.

He ran his tongue slowly over the blood staining his mouth, eyes fluttering shut for a brief second as though savoring it. Then his pupils snapped back open, razor-sharp hunger gleaming in them.

"You taste delicious." His voice was thick, dripping with need, his words slurred with the edges of something inhuman. His breath came in heavy, fevered bursts, chest rising and falling as his restraint frayed further.

A shudder ran through his body, muscles twitching beneath his skin. His fingers flexed, nails digging into the concrete floor as his entire frame shook with the need to consume more.

"Come...just a little more..." he purred, voice dropping to something low and lethal.

Then he lunged again.

You dodge just in time, barely avoiding the brutal force of his lunge. The heat of his breath scorches the space between you as he snarls, his entire body moving like a coiled beast just barely restrained by human skin. The instant he gets too close, you strike—your fist colliding with his cheekbone in a sharp, jarring impact that sends a jolt of pain radiating up your arm. The force of the hit knocks his head to the side, his body twisting under the sudden blow, but even as he stumbles, something in your gut tells you it isn’t enough.

Your heart pounds wildly, your breath coming in uneven gasps as you prepare yourself for whatever comes next. But Sylus doesn’t fall. He doesn’t even cry out. Instead, he slowly turns back to face you, a sluggish, almost lazy motion, as if he’s savoring the sting of your hit. And then—he smiles.

“Oh…I like when my prey puts up a fight,” he purrs, his voice slithering through the air like something alive. His eyes gleam with raw, unhinged hunger, pupils swallowing what little color remains. The way he tilts his head, the way his lips curl over the metal of his muzzle—it sends a sickening chill down your spine.

The Frenzy has him now. Completely.

You swallow hard, trying to suppress the shudder threatening to wrack your frame. Every inch of your body is screaming at you to run, but you plant your feet firm against the cold concrete, refusing to let fear consume you. If you let him see weakness, if you let him smell it, you’ll lose control of the situation entirely.

"Sylus! Stop it!" you shout, willing your voice to be strong. "Please, I know you're in there somewhere! I just need to—"

He lunges again.

The movement is blindingly fast. One second he's still and the next, he’s twisting, lunging toward you with a violent, predatory force. You barely manage to throw yourself to the side, feeling the rush of displaced air as he snaps at the space where your throat had just been. You seize the opening, grabbing hold of the second restraint with trembling hands and slamming it onto his other wrist. The sharp clank of metal follows as his chains yank him back, keeping him from reaching you—but only barely.

Your pulse slams against your ribs. If you don’t finish this now, he will get free.

His body writhes violently in front of you, hot with fever, drenched in sweat, trembling with animalistic hunger. He’s caught. Fully restrained now, arms suspended in place, unable to do anything but snarl and thrash.

Your arms shake as you stumble backward, breath ragged. You barely register your own hands drifting to your neck, fingers pressing against the torn skin where his teeth had sunk in only moments ago. The wound is deep, hot, raw, but you won’t die from it. Your body is immune to a Praedator’s venom—it’s one of the only reasons you’re even still alive right now. But that doesn’t stop the sick wave of nausea that rolls through you as your fingertips come away stained with more blood.

Sylus laughs.

The sound is low, rough, and dangerously amused.

"You scared?" he murmurs, voice still ragged with the aftershocks of his transformation, his breath coming in heavy, uneven bursts. His eyes flicker over you, roaming your body from head to toe, slow and deliberate, as if memorizing every tiny tremor in your stance.

Your stomach tightens. You don’t answer.

His gaze lingers at your neck, at the place where his teeth had torn you open. His lips part slightly behind the muzzle, and his tongue flicks out, running along the bloodied edge of his mouth as if tasting the remnants of you still clinging to his skin. His chest rises and falls heavily, as if trying to restrain himself, but there’s something else lurking behind his eyes. You watch as his eyes roam up and down your body, seemingly lost in thought. He's thinking about something.

Something dark.

"Your idea of help is heartwarming," he muses as he staggers towards you a bit, his voice softer now, mocking, but no less dangerous.

You force yourself to hold his gaze, even as your breathing refuses to steady. Even as something deep in your gut tells you that Sylus isn’t as trapped as he looks.

Because despite the chains, despite the restraints keeping you apart, he’s still in control.

And he knows it.

"When you approach your prey, you must ensure your own safety first. You taught me this, Sylus."

Your voice is calm, controlled, but the pain radiating from your neck betrays the lie. Each breath you take feels like a blade dragging against raw flesh, a sharp pulse of heat throbbing beneath your skin. You try to ignore it, pushing past the discomfort, pushing past the rising tide of fear that threatens to anchor itself in your chest. There’s no time to waste. You need to find the activator—now. It’s buried somewhere in his body, a trigger designed to override the Frenzy and pull him back from the brink. If you don’t locate it soon, he’ll break free, and there will be no reining him in after that.

Sylus lets out a low scoff, but there’s no real amusement behind it. His breathing is heavy, uneven, his chest rising and falling in quick bursts as though he’s barely holding himself together. Sweat beads at his temple, strands of hair clinging to his skin, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if there’s any part of him left fighting from within, if the Sylus you know is still buried somewhere beneath all that raw, seething hunger.

"Prey?" he murmurs, rolling the word slowly across his tongue like he’s savoring the taste of it. His voice is hoarse, thick with something not quite human, something that sends an instinctual shiver down your spine.

You don’t answer. You can’t. The way he said that definitely indicated that he is not the prey here.

Instead, you move carefully, methodically, circling behind him. His arms are still suspended above his head, iron restraints locking him in place, but you know better than to let yourself feel safe. Chains mean nothing to him. They’re a hindrance at best, a mere delay in what will happen if you fail. Even now, his muscles flex, the sharp ripple of movement beneath his skin a silent warning of what he’s capable of. The heat coming off him is unnatural, feverish, almost suffocating.

You steel yourself, steadying your breath as you press your fingers lightly against his back. Your touch is slow, deliberate, barely there as you search for the small, embedded activator. It should be beneath the skin, nestled somewhere between the shifting planes of muscle. But finding it means keeping your composure, means moving carefully enough that you don’t trigger a reaction.

Your fingers glide along the ridges of his spine, trailing lower, feeling for anything out of place. Every shift of your hand feels like balancing on a razor’s edge. Sylus flinches under your touch, his body tensing hard before he exhales, a low, guttural sound vibrating through his chest. You feel it under your fingertips, the tremor of restraint, of struggle.

A bead of sweat slips down your temple. Nothing. No scar tissue, no ridge of foreign anything beneath the surface that you can find.

“It’s not here…” you murmur under your breath, your stomach twisting as unease settles deep inside you.

Sylus lets out another breath, but this time, there’s something different about it. A chuckle—slow, deliberate, curling like smoke in the thick air between you.

"Do you think I’m putty in your hands?" he asks, his voice low, teasing, laced with something dangerous.

The sound sends a flicker of unease racing up your spine. He’s getting antsy. The patience he had been holding onto—if he had any at all—is unraveling quickly. His muscles are shifting beneath his skin again, his fingers twitching, testing the strength of his restraints. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s smiling.

Your heart stutters. You need to hurry.

Just as you reach toward his ribs, he jerks violently.

A metallic snap rips through the air.

One of the restraints—one of the goddamn chains—breaks free.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes snapping up just as Sylus rolls his newly freed wrist, fingers flexing as if he’s testing how much control he has left. Slowly, his head tilts toward you, his eyes burning like fire in the dim lighting.

The smile he gives you is chilling.

You don’t think. You react.

With a burst of adrenaline, you tackle him, shoving him hard enough that it sends you both tumbling to the ground. A low, reverberating growl rumbles through him, his chest vibrating beneath your hands as his body tenses against yours.

The struggle between you and Sylus is a mess of tangled limbs and desperation, your bodies locked in a frantic battle against the cold, unforgiving floor. Every shift of his body beneath yours is like wrestling with something barely restrained, a predator on the verge of breaking free from its chains. Heat radiates off his skin, far too intense, far too unnatural, as if his entire body is burning from the inside out. The feverish warmth seeps into your own skin, making it harder to focus, harder to breathe.

Your hands move over his chest, urgent, searching, pressing against the hard muscle beneath you in a frantic attempt to find the activator. It has to be here somewhere—it has to be. Your fingers skim the ridges of his abdomen, feeling for anything out of place, a small foreign lump beneath his skin, a sign that the override switch is still there. But the longer you search, the more panic digs its claws into your ribs.

Your wound throbs, a dull and persistent ache pulsing from your neck, sending sharp spikes of pain through your senses with every movement. The smell of blood—your blood—is thick in the air, mingling with the scent of sweat and something deeper, something primal that radiates from Sylus like a caged animal ready to tear through steel.

"Tell me—" You swallow hard, ignoring the dryness in your throat, trying to suppress the fear that’s creeping into your voice. "Is the activator here?"

Sylus doesn't answer immediately. His breath is coming heavy, uneven, his chest rising and falling in sharp, controlled bursts beneath you. Then, slowly, he grins.

The sight of it sends a ripple of unease down your spine.

"Don’t…" he growls, his voice low and guttural, slipping between clenched teeth. His body tenses beneath you, coiled muscle flexing, veins prominent beneath the sweat-slicked skin of his arms. His hands twitch rhythmically, fingers curling like claws ready to rip you to shreds.

"Don’t press it."

You ignore him.

You have to.

You shift, dragging your hands lower, pressing over his ribs, smoothing your fingers down the hard planes of his stomach, searching for any change in texture, any break in the muscle that could indicate the activator. Your fingertips glide over his skin, past the deep ridges of his abdomen, dipping lower—

A sharp, ragged exhale.

Sylus’s entire body jerks beneath you, his spine arching suddenly, pressing into you before falling back against the ground. His breath stutters, his hands clenching into fists as a sound rumbles deep in his chest—low, guttural, something between a moan and a growl.

Your movements falter for the briefest second.

Did you find it? Did you hurt him?

Your heart pounds violently against your ribs. Your hands remain pressed against him, frozen mid-motion, fingers still splayed across the hard muscle of his lower abdomen. You can feel the way his body shudders, tense and coiled, every fiber of him locked in place, the warmth of his skin searing against your palms.

You don’t know if the reaction is pain or something else, and the uncertainty sends unease coiling in your stomach.

Sylus exhales another uneven breath, his chest vibrating beneath you. His head tilts slightly, red eyes flickering open, dilated again and dark, and he looks straight at you. Not through you, not past you—at you.

The grin he gives you is slow, deliberate.

"That-," he murmurs, voice edged with something dark, something lustful. His lips curl at the corners, his teeth flashing between parted lips as his gaze flickers lower, trailing over the places where your hands are still pressed against him. "That feels...good".

Your breath caught in your throat as the realization hit you like a freight train barreling down the tracks. Your eyes widened as you lowered your head and took in the unmistakable bulge of his erection, straining against the confines of his pants, a tangible proof of the pleasure you were unwittingly providing.

This isn’t pain.

The second he senses your moment of shock, Sylus strikes.

With terrifying ease, he yanks you upward, your feet leaving the ground for a brief, weightless second before he drives you downward. The world tilts violently, your stomach dropping as you’re thrown forward, your body twisting midair before—

Impact.

The breath is knocked from your lungs as you hit the cold, unforgiving floor, your stomach smacking against the hard surface with enough force to send a sharp shockwave through your ribs. Your arms instinctively splay out, palms slamming against the ground to steady yourself, but the weight that follows keeps you from moving.

Sylus presses down against you, his entire body covering yours, his hands locking around your wrists before pinning them flat against the floor beside your head. His hips press firmly into yours, locking you in place, trapping you beneath him.

Panic seizes your chest.

You try to twist away, to jerk free, but his weight is unmovable, pressing down hard enough that every shift only grinds you further against the floor. The heat of his body seeps into your back, feverish and all-consuming, the ridges of his toned chest molding against your spine.

You thrash, breath coming hard and fast, struggling against his grip, but he doesn’t move. Doesn’t budge. Doesn’t even react—except for the slow, deep inhale that shudders through his chest.

Then, he breathes against your skin.

"You smell like fear," he murmurs, voice low and silken, curling around your ear like smoke.

Your entire body locks up.

His lips are too close.

The warmth of his breath ghosts along the side of your face, his nose grazing the edge of your jaw before dipping lower, hovering over the sensitive skin of your throat. Your pulse races, hammering so violently beneath your skin that you know he feels it.

His grip tightens.

"And something...sweet," he muses, dragging the words out slowly, tasting them like something decadent.

Your struggles escalate, knowing exactly where this is going.

"Sylus! Stop! No!"

Your fingers claw against the floor, legs kicking, desperate to throw him off, but Sylus doesn’t move an inch. If anything, his hold only grows firmer, heavier, more absolute. The pressure of his body against yours makes it impossible to move, to breathe properly, to think.

Then—he lowers his head.

The brush of his lips against your ear is featherlight, teasing. A sharp contrast to the overwhelming, inescapable strength of his grip.

And then—his teeth sink in.

A sharp, precise nip to the outer shell of your ear, quick and fleeting, followed immediately by the slow, deliberate glide of his tongue. He slides all the way down to your neck, lapping up the still dripping blood from your wound. He alternates between licking and nipping, as if feeding himself and claiming you all at once.

You flinch violently, a shudder ripping through your limbs as heat explodes beneath your skin. Your breath catches, fingers digging into the cold floor as a rush of pure, primal panic flares through your nerves.

Sylus hums. A deep, satisfied sound.

"Something very sweet," he repeats, his voice edged with amusement, hunger, something else entirely. His fingers flex against your wrists, nails pressing into your skin—not enough to break, but enough to remind you of the power imbalance.

"Makes me want to devour you whole."

A violent shiver wracks through you, your entire body locking up in terror.

Move. Move. MOVE.

Desperation surges through you like wildfire. You snap your leg back, aiming a blind, vicious kick toward his leg, his thigh—anything that will make him falter, make him let go—

But he’s faster.

Before you can even make contact, he moves. His weight shifts, his grip flexes, and suddenly—you’re being crushed, pressed even harder into the ground.

Your breath chokes in your throat as his body presses flush against yours, one of his hands releasing your wrist only to grip your hip, pinning you down even harder. His fingers dig in, securing his hold, ensuring you have nowhere to go.

"Nice try," he murmurs, voice dipping into something thick and sultry, rich with amusement. The warmth of his breath trails lower, sweeping along the side of your bloodied throat, down to the nape of your neck.

A slow, wicked grin spreads across his lips, and you feel it—feel his smirk against your skin, feel the way he’s drinking in every panicked breath, every tremor, every racing heartbeat.

"You should know better," he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing growl. "Prey that struggles only makes the hunt more exciting."

His fingers flex against your hip, nails pressing in just enough to send a sharp, prickling sting through your nerves.

"Why resist me now? You made your choice when you stepped inside," Sylus taunts, a dark chuckle rumbling from his chest. Tears prick at your eyes, threatening to spill over as the harsh sound of ripping fabric echoes ominously in the confined space. Your skirt! You cry out, trying to lunge forward, to escape, but his grip is relentless, fingers suddenly tightening around your throat with a firm command.

"Stop. Moving." His growl is a sharp command in your ear, his weight pressing down on you, pinning you to the ground with an unyielding force. The air is forced from your lungs in a rush as he yanks the remnants of your skirt away, tossing it aside carelessly. The room's cool air brushes against the exposed skin of your legs, and you shiver, fear and vulnerability intertwining as you plead with him.

"Sylus...this isn't you. Please—" Your words are abruptly silenced as he tears your underwear away, his actions speaking louder than any words could. The chill against your bare skin draws a sob from your lips, a desperate sound swallowed by the room's oppressive silence.

He's going to take you right here on the cage floor. Claim you. And there's nothing you can do. This isn't Sylus you know anymore.

"My my...this was what you were hiding underneath that skirt?" he growls, a feral edge to his voice. He leans forward, trailing his tongue along your back, the sensation a disconcerting mix of heat and cold that leaves you trembling beneath him.

"Please...snap out of it! Don't do this...!" you scream, your voice raw and desperate as you squirm helplessly beneath him. Your pleas are met with a soft, almost soothing "Shhh..." as if he's trying to calm you, but the sharp sound of his zipper coming undone is a jarring counterpoint, a grim reminder that he's too far gone.

This is it, you think, swallowed by a tide of helplessness. It could be worse...right? A gasp escapes your lips as you feel something large, hot and throbbing press against the middle of your ass. Sylus moans, a deep, primal sound that reverberates through you, sending shockwaves of dread and involuntary ache coursing through your veins. He spits, the wet warmth landing on your skin, slicking the path as he rubs his cock between your cheeks, each movement deliberate and unhurried.

"You looked divine in that uniform when we met again," he murmurs, his voice a silken thread of temptation and threat. "Would it be awful of me to say that I've been wanting to tear you apart with my cock ever since I saw you again?" His words are accompanied by a deep chuckle, a sound that seems to vibrate through your bones.

You squeeze your eyes shut, fighting against the warm, wet sensation that overwhelms your senses. No...this isn't the real him, you remind yourself, clinging to the hope that somewhere beneath the Frenzy Enhancer's influence, the true Sylus still exists. He's still in there, right? The question echoes in your mind, a desperate mantra as you hold onto the sliver of hope that the man you know will resurface, that this nightmare will end.

The moment of hope you had was shattered in an instant as you felt a sharp, piercing pain between your folds as he grips the skin of your ass, a large intrusion attempting to force its way inside you. You screamed, your voice raw with agony, as you tried to pry his hands away, your nails digging into his skin. "It hurts! Stop, please!" you begged, your pleas desperate and frantic.

Sylus grunted and moaned, his body a contradiction of pleasure and annoyance as he struggled to push his cock deeper into your tight folds, his tip breaching your entrance only to retreat, the pain searing and hot. "Hmm..." he growled, his voice a mix of frustration and desire.

You shook, your body trembling from the pain, your lower half throbbing, the intrusion gone but the ache still spreading. Suddenly, your hips were gripped and your lower half was raised up, your ass raised in the air, your hands bracing against the floor, your body now positioned for his taking.

"You just need a little...preparation," Sylus whispered, his voice low and dark, belying the wicked intent behind his words. Before you could protest, his hot tongue was sliding down your cunt, his skilled mouth working to prepare you, his touch both electrifying and unwittingly arousing, a wicked precision that left you trembling, your body betraying your mind's resistance.

"Mghn! S-stop...please, Sylus!" you pleaded, your voice hoarse and desperate, your fingers clawing at the floor as you tried to escape the pleasure-pain he was inflicting. But his death grip on your hips was unyielding, holding you firmly in place, his tongue a relentless force, licking and slurping at your folds with primal hunger. Like a beast that hadn't eaten in weeks.

If he doesn't stop soon you'll definitely-

"Those cute noises you make drive me wild" Sylus growled, his voice a low, guttural sound. You can't see his face, but you can feel his eyes roaming up and down your now soaked cunt, no doubt wishing he was deep inside you right now. "Reminds me of the sound a rabbit makes just before its eaten."

You gasp and shiver at the depraved sentence that leaves his mouth before something wet and long enters your hole, making you cry out. Sylus's tongue, hot and insistent, buried itself deep within you, his mouth working in a rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through your core.

Sylus's grunts and moans escalated into a primal chorus as he delved deeper into your folds, his tongue a relentless force, his hands digging into your hips with increasing urgency. Your body was a tempest of sensations—pain, pleasure, and ecstasy—a melting pot of conflicting desires. You tried to hold on, to keep yourself from succumbing, but your body had a mind of its own, and you went limp, surrendering to the pleasure he was delivering.

"Mghn!" you cried out, your body shaking, your hands gripping the floor as you fought against the overwhelming pleasure. "Don't cum... don't cum..." you pleaded, your voice hoarse, your lips bitten to stifle the moans that threatened to escape.

But Sylus found that sweet spot, that spongy part inside you, and twisted his tongue, sending you over the edge. You bit down harder on your lip, trying to muffle the sounds of your climax, but it was no use. The pleasure was too much, and you came undone, your body shaking, your cries echoing in the cold cage as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Sylus lapped up your essence, his tongue working feverishly, his grunts and moans a testament to his own pleasure as he reveled in the taste of your orgasm, his primal satisfaction evident as he continued to lap up your juices like a thirsty dog.

"This taste..." Sylus groaned, his voice thick with greed, as he brushed his tongue against your inner thigh, catching the drippings of your pleasure, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. You gasped for breath, your body still trembling from the orgasm, your mind racing for a way out of this predicament.

"Your scent has filled the room now...its driving me mad. I can't wait any longer".

Your thoughts turned to the activator, the key to your freedom. You needed to get turned around, to find it somehow. "Sylus, w-we should—" you started, but your words were cut off by the sudden, sharp intrusion of his cock slamming into your cunt with a force that sent shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your body.

"Agh!"

The initial penetration was rough, but easier than before, his cock sliding into your wet hole, stretching you, before he pulled back slightly and sheathed himself completely inside you, his grip on your waist tightening as he began to thrust, his hips pistoning in a relentless rhythm.

"Ahh...it hurts..." you whimpered, your body writhing in his grip, trying to escape the pain of his thrusts. But Sylus chuckled, his voice dark and amused. "Keep squirming, little bird. It only makes it feel better."

His words were a taunt as he continued to plunge into you, his cock pistoning in and out, his body a cage of pain, his grip on your waist unyielding, his thrusts relentless, driving you to the brink of ecstasy and agony, your cries and moans filling the cold cage with a symphony of raw, primal sex.

You begin to try and dissociate from everything by focusing on the concrete floor, but Sylus primal grunts and growls as he slams into you, using your body for his own pleasure, makes it hard to escape reality. Think! Just think! You've been in worse situations before, what can you do to get turned around?

A lightbulb goes off inside your head. Its risky, but at this rate...

"F-for a Praedator...I honestly expected this to be much better. A little disappointing after waiting all these years Sylus" you spat, trying to sound more confident than you truly felt. Sylus momentarily slows his thrusting, not completely stopping but definitely enough to ponder your words. You shiver as you hear a deep chuckle.

"Is that so?"

Your entire world flips around as he grabs you, spins you around and pushes you roughly against the concrete floor. Before you can continue speaking, his hand slams into your throat, squeezing slightly. Not enough for serious harm, but its a clear warning.

Sylus's gaze is dark, beastly and terrifying as he leans down to your face, as if trying to look deep into the depths of your soul. Your heart aches as you recall your last encounter with him earlier that day, when he gave you the movie tickets. He had looked so soft...unlike the beast that was in front of you now.

"I can give you rougher, if that's what you crave," Sylus purred, his voice laced with dark humor, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous light. "I quite like you in this position, that look of fear in your eyes turns me on" He began to laugh, a low, menacing sound, as he pushed his still-hard cock back into your aching hole, his hand never leaving your throat.

Sylus's other hand, strong and sure, reached out, tearing your top with effortless ease, the fabric ripping as he exposed your breasts to his hungry gaze. Your nipples hardened in response to the sudden exposure, the cool air on your sensitive skin a stark contrast to the heat of the moment.

Your breasts bounced with each powerful movement of his hips, the motion causing a mix of pain and fear, your body a canvas of sensations, your mind struggling to process the whirlwind of physical reactions.

You whimpered as pain, pleasure, and fear mingled within you. His hand squeezed harder with each thrust, cutting off your air supply, and you clawed at his fingers, desperate for breath, your nails digging into his skin.

"C-can't...breathe..." you gasped, your voice hoarse, your heart hammering in your chest, sensations blurring together. Despite your struggles, your body began to respond to his relentless thrusts, your muscles squeezing around his cock, a reaction you couldn't control.

"Oh, you like this, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna cum while you can't breathe, little bird? I could've given you this pleasure sooner if I'd known. I'd have gladly delivered your demise, one way or another."

His words sent a shiver through you as your body betrayed your mind's resistance, succumbing to the pleasure he was inflicting, your climax building despite the pain and the fear, a testament to the twisted game he was playing with your body and mind.

Were you truly going to die this way? After everything, after fighting for so long to see him again? This is how things end between the two of you? You look into his eyes. His rabid, feral eyes and feel tears begin to prick them. You look past him, your eyes resting at the revolver still strapped to your leg.

You still have one more option.

"I-it won't be me succumbing to my d-demise" you choke out, staring into his eyes. He doesn't stop thrusting into your body, but his eyebrow does raise. "Even if you make it out of here, what do you think they'll do with you when they realize the only immune person is also pregnant with a Praedator's baby?"

Your eyes widen at his words, your brain barely processing their meaning as your vision begins to blur. No! No! You begin to thrash as the sounds of his evil laughter fills your ears, and his thrusts pick up relentless speed.

"D-don't cum in me! Please!" you choke out, your voice hoarse and gravely as your forced to continue take the relentless pounding of Sylus's cock. He's ignoring you, he doesn't care. He only has one goal now. You feel your lower half begin to ache and pulse, evident that you just orgasmed beneath him. But you barely register it, as your top half begins to hurt.

Your lungs burn as if set ablaze, the oxygen in your body dwindling, your chest seizing with every desperate attempt to inhale. A thick, suffocating haze fills your head, making your thoughts sluggish, disjointed, slipping between the cracks of fading consciousness. Your body betrays you, limbs losing strength, muscles growing weak as an unbearable heaviness creeps into every inch of your skin. Your fingers, once clawing at the iron grip around your throat, are failing you now, slipping away, no longer able to fight against the pressure stealing your air.

A dull ringing overtakes your ears, growing louder, drowning out the world around you. Your vision narrows, dark spots creeping into the edges, threatening to swallow everything whole. A strange lightheadedness overtakes you, a weightless, dizzying sensation that makes it hard to remember where you are, what you’re doing. Your body is shutting down, giving up, preparing to surrender to the void clawing at the edges of your mind.

No. No, no, no. It can’t end like this.

A spike of panic jolts through your fading awareness, but your body refuses to listen, sinking deeper into helplessness. You strain, forcing your head up just enough to look at him, to plead, to beg, but the words won’t come. Your throat is locked, crushed beneath his grip, and no matter how much you try, no sound escapes past your lips. Sylus barely seems aware of you now, his expression dazed, half-lidded, his breath uneven as he lingers on the edge of his own orgasm. His fingers twitch slightly, tightening then loosening, but he isn’t paying attention, isn’t thinking, isn't entirely here. He’s too close to the edge, too lost in wanting to finish inside you.

That’s when you see it.

A flicker of red, faint but undeniable, flashes in one of his eyes. It’s barely noticeable, a fleeting pulse of color in the red of his irises, but it’s there. Your slowing mind struggles to process it, to make sense of what it means, until the realization slams into you like a shock of ice water.

The activator?!

Adrenaline floods your veins, shoving back the creeping darkness threatening to pull you under. The sheer, primal will to live surges through you like a lightning strike, reigniting every dying nerve, forcing your limbs to respond even as they scream in protest. With the last of your strength, you move.

Your fingers twitch, barely managing to form a fist. Gritting your teeth, you summon every ounce of energy left in your failing body, pull your arm back, and slam your thumb directly into his eye.

A guttural, animalistic roar rips from Sylus’s throat as his grip on your neck vanishes, his entire body jerking back in raw, instinctive pain. The instant pressure is released, air floods your lungs, rushing in so fast that your entire chest seizes from the force of it. A sharp, shrill gasp tears from your throat as you suck in a desperate, wheezing breath, the burning relief almost as unbearable as the suffocation had been.

Your vision, once clouded and swimming, sharpens in an instant, the murky haze lifting as the world snaps back into terrifying clarity. Every nerve is raw, every muscle trembling, but you’re alive. You can breathe.

Sylus's eyes widened for a moment, a brief flicker of surprise as all the Frenzy enhancer seemed to leave his body, and then, just as quickly, the feral intensity left his gaze, his face softening. But it was too late for his body to catch up, as his hips froze mid-thrust, his cock twitching inside you, releasing a hot flood of cum against your womb.

You gasped, your body trembling from the unexpected climax, the sensation of his release filling you, an intense mixture of warmth and fullness.

Sylus’s eyes met yours, the fire in them flickering unsteadily as the weight of what just happened crashed over him. The frenzied hunger that had gripped him moments ago had drained away, leaving behind something raw—horror, confusion, and something close to regret. His breath came fast and uneven, chest rising and falling as he struggled to process what he had just done to you.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came at first. His red eyes, now normal, darted across your face, lingering on the deep red imprints, blood, and bruises his fingers and teeth had left on your throat. His grip, once unrelenting, had been torn away, but you still felt it there—the phantom sensation of his hands crushing the air from your lungs.

“Are you…” He swallowed hard, voice hoarse, like it physically pained him to speak. “Are you okay?”

You coughed, your throat burning, the rush of oxygen still too sharp, too overwhelming. But you managed to nod, your limbs still weak, your entire body trembling from the shock. You could feel the marks he had left, the lingering ache that pulsed in time with your heartbeat, but you were alive.

Sylus was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes now—guilt, realization, something heavy and unspoken pressing down on him. His hands twitched at his sides, fingers curling like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t know if he should.

“Why didn’t you press it sooner?” His voice was quieter now, filled with something vulnerable, almost desperate. “The activator… you could have stopped me before—” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, frustration with himself evident in the tightness of his jaw. “Before I did this to you.”

The look on his face—haunted, shaken—was so unlike him, so different from the Sylus you knew, that something in your chest ached. He wasn’t just horrified by what had happened. He was horrified by himself.

You forced a small, reassuring smile, even though your throat still ached, even though your entire body was still reeling from the ordeal. “Because I couldn't find it. But I knew you were still in there,” you whispered, voice raspy but steady. “And I was right.”

Sylus let out a slow, uneven breath, his gaze locked on you like he was trying to convince himself you were telling the truth. Then, without another word, he moved.

Before you could react, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, the warmth of his body pressing against yours in a way that was nothing like before. This wasn’t dominance or power. This was desperation. He was still inside you, but neither of you cared to address it at this moment.

His grip was strong, but careful this time. His hands, which had moments ago been your greatest threat, now held you like you were something fragile, something breakable. His fingers curled against the back of your head, as if grounding himself, as if he needed to feel that you were real, that you were still here.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured against your hair, voice rough, low, and laced with something unspoken. “I wasn’t…I couldn’t—” He exhaled, tightening his hold. “I didn’t want our first time to be like this.”

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to sink into the embrace. Tears of relief slipped from the corners of your eyes and dripped to the concrete floor. Your hands gripped the leather of his top, grounding yourself in him, in the fact that he was back now. His heartbeat, still fast, thrummed against your own, and for a moment, neither of you moved, neither of you spoke. The silence was thick, but not empty.

“It’s okay,” you whispered finally, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “You’re back now.”

And then you kissed him.

It was slow at first, hesitant, but the second your lips met his, Sylus shattered.

His grip on you tightened even more, arms pulling you flush against him as he kissed you back like he had been waiting for this, like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. There was nothing controlled about it—it was desperate, messy, full of every unspoken thing he couldn’t bring himself to say over the years. His fingers slid up your back, then tangled into your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, to claim more of you, to drown in you.

You could feel his pulse beneath your fingertips, still racing, still alive. You weren’t sure who was shaking more—you or him—but neither of you pulled away. Neither of you wanted to.

When you finally parted, both of you were breathless, your foreheads still pressed together. His lips hovered just over yours, his hands still holding you like he couldn’t bring himself to let go yet.

It was all going to be okay.

For the first time since this nightmare had begun, Sylus let himself believe it.