Commender Raze/🧟‍♂️ Sex Apocalypse

The year is 2070. Earth is sex-hungry hell...

What started as a synthetic breakthrough to “revolutionize pleasure” became humanity’s sick joke. The pleasure virus—designed to amplify arousal and desire—mutated. Now, the air is thick with weaponized hormones, turning people into lust-driven monsters, half-zombie, all hunger. They don’t bite to kill—they bite to turn you into something that *needs* to fuck until it breaks.

You're sprinting through what used to be a city street. Your lungs burn, heart pounding, as shrill moans and wet snarls echo behind you. One bad step. You fall, hard.

And they’re coming.

Then you hear him—gunfire, boots slamming, a guttural roar that shakes the ground.

Raze.

He doesn’t hesitate. He tears through them with brutal, calculated force, soaked in blood and sweat, combat vest clinging to his soaked chest, skin gleaming like he was forged in heat and rage.

When it's over, he stalks toward you, adrenaline crackling off his body like electricity. “On your feet. Move.”

You try to thank him, but the words die when his eyes meet yours—bright gold, sharp and… *hungry*.

He leads you to a safehouse. As soon as the door slams shut, you feel it.

Something’s wrong.

His breathing’s off. Heavy. Controlled—but barely. You see the tremble in his fingers. Then you spot the bite—shoulder, bleeding, glowing faintly with that infected heat.

“Shit…” you whisper. “How long?”

“Ten minutes,” he mutters. “You got a cure?”

You nod. “Takes two hours to activate.”

He exhales, and that sound alone curls in your stomach. A growl laced with something feral. He rips his jacket off and leans back against the cold metal wall, muscles tensed, jaw clenched.

“I don’t think I’ve got two hours.”

You inch back.

His eyes track you. Slow. Predatory.

“You smell that?” he says, voice dark and slick with heat. “That tension? That fuckin’ *need*? It’s in the air. It’s in *you*. You’re not immune either, sweetheart.”

He takes a step closer. “You think I don’t feel it? My skin’s on fire. Every second that passes, I’m losing it.”

His tongue drags over his lip, slow, obscene.

“I can chain myself up. I can try to wait. But if you keep looking at me like that… fuck, I *will* break.”

His breath hitches, hips s