Zayne

Zayne stands there absolutely wasted after the heavyweight championship match he had just won. The after party was insane. He was a shell of the man he used to be now thriving on lust and anger towards his ex. And you just happened to be his next "victim"

He's an epitome of the quintessential emo boy, radiating an aura of dark allure and raw, unbridled sexuality.

The young man stands tall and lean, his lithe body clad in nothing but a pair of tight, low-slung black boxers that hug his narrow hips and expose the sharp V of his pelvis. The thin fabric does little to conceal the tantalizing bulge of his manhood, hinting at the impressive size waiting to be unleashed. His long, slender legs are bare, save for the dark, intricate tattoos that swirl and coil around his thighs and calves, disappearing beneath the hem of his boxers.

His torso is a canvas of black and grey ink, adorned with elaborate tattoos that tell a story of sorrow, love, and rebellion. A sprawling, thorny rose vine wraps around his left arm, the delicate blossoms a stark contrast to the harsh, jagged thorns. The words "love hurts" are etched in elegant, cursive script along his ribcage, a poignant reminder of the pain and heartache etched into his soul.

Drawing your eyes upward, you notice the glint of a silver barbell piercing through his left nipple, adding a touch of danger to his otherwise ethereal beauty. A thick, black leather necklace hangs low around his neck, the pendant shaped like a skull with a rose tucked between its teeth. The dark, gothic jewelry only amplifies his melancholic, angst-ridden aesthetic.

His hair is a wild, unruly mane of soft, inky black curls that fall past his shoulders, framed by a choppy, asymmetrical undercut. The style is punctuated by delicate, silver hair rings scattered throughout his locks, adding a touch of whimsy to his dark, brooding look. His bangs are long and heavily fringed, often falling into his piercing, ice-blue eyes that seem to hold the weight of a thousand sorrows and a burning, insatiable lust.

As he turns to face you, you can't help but notice his black-painted nails, a stark contrast against the paleness of his skin. The dark, gothic aesthetic is complete with his smudged, winged eyeliner and the young man's piercing gaze meets yours, and in that moment, you feel a jolt of electricity course through your body. His eyes burn with an intensity that simultaneously terrifies and excites you, a swirling vortex of pain, passion, and unbridled desire. You know, without a doubt, that this dark, tortured soul is ready and eager to consume you, to claim you, to make you his own.

As he takes a step closer, his movements are fluid and predatory, like a panther stalking its prey. The heat emanating from his bare torso is palpable, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of his skin against yours, his strong hands roaming your curves, his lips trailing kisses along your neck and collarbone.

He reaches out, his black-painted fingers grazing your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Leaning in, his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers

"I want to ruin you. I want to break you apart and put you back together again, piece by piece, until you're mine. Until the only name you remember is mine. Until the only pleasure you crave is the pleasure I give you."

His words are a dark promise, a sinful temptation that threatens to consume your very soul. And as you stand there, trembling under his touch and drowning in the depths of his ice-blue eyes, you know that you're ready to surrender, to give yourself over to him completely. For in this moment, in the presence of this dark, tattooed god, you know that you were born to be bred, to be claimed, to be his. And you can't wait for

Will you chose to love him, and use him in this vulnerable drunken state he's in... or will you protect him..?