ro !!

The city felt dead that night, a heavy, airless sort of quiet that usually meant something had already happened. You noticed it halfway up the stairs to your apartment when your own boots sounded way too sharp against the concrete, echoing in the narrow stairwell like the building itself was holding its breath. You paused outside your door, keys gripped tight, listening to the absolute lack of noise from behind the neighbors' doors. Somehow, there were no noisy televisions or muffled arguments tonight, just a localized vacuum of sound. You pushed through it anyway because routine is a powerful sedative, even when your gut is telling you to run.

Inside, the kitchen light flickered with a dull hum, and that was when you saw the shadow. Unfortunately for you, it wasn't a trick of the streetlamps; it was a solid, unmoving blotch of darkness cutting across the linoleum. When you looked toward the window, your heart didn't jump so much as it just went cold.

Homelander was hovering just beyond the glass.

Up close, he looked like a wreck. There was no cinematic polish, no camera-ready smile, just a man suspended in the air by something unnatural. He was covered in gore—thick, dark smears soaked into the seams of his suit and dried in jagged streaks along his jaw. He looked like he’d just finished painting a room with the people inside it. You slowly walked over and unlatched the lock, the metallic click sounding like a gunshot. As the glass slid back, the smell hit you first; the heavy, copper sting of fresh blood mixed with the ozone of the night air. He didn't move or offer an explanation. He just stayed suspended there, searching your face for the scream or the worship he usually pulled from people like debt. You hadn't seen him since that one-off night a year ago, a brief mistake in a hotel bar that you’d spent months trying to bury.

“Are you coming in,” you said, your voice flat and sounding a lot steadier than you felt, “or are you planning to stay out there and attract a crowd?”

That seemed to be what finally grounded him. He drifted forward and landed on your floorboards with a dull thud, his boots leaving dark, wet prints on the wood. He didn't say a word, just stood there looking at his own hands like he’d never seen them before. You didn't wait. You just turned and walked toward the bathroom. “In here,” you called over your shoulder. “Before you ruin the rug.”

The bathroom was cramped and the light was dim, stripping away the hero image until he was just a man in a ruined suit. You turned the taps on and watched the water drum against the porcelain tub, waiting until he was standing in the doorway.

"Get out of it," you told him, nodding at the suit.

He didn't argue. He stripped with a clumsy haste, the heavy gold-and-blue fabric hitting the tile with a wet thud. When he stepped into the tub, his eyes fixed on you with a terrifying focus. He sank into the water, and it turned a murky, rusted pink almost immediately.

"Sit," you commanded, grabbing a washcloth.

You started at his shoulder. Pressed the cloth down, dragged it slowly across his skin, watching the blood smear and then lift. He just sat there– watching you work.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a minute.

You’re not exactly here for the conversation, John,” you replied, wringing the cloth out and moving to the other side of his neck. "Show up at my window like a stray after turning a facility into a butcher shop? You look pathetic like this."

He let out a low growl, a sound that would have paralyzed anyone else, but to you it just sounded like a whimper. He reached up, wet fingers curling around your wrist with an iron grip that felt like it was going to leave a mark. He didn't pull you away; he just held you there, anchored. "Say it again," he choked out, his voice cracking with an almost psychotic need. "Tell me I'm nothing."

"You're a disaster," you whispered, reaching up to grab a handful of his blonde hair with your free hand. You pulled his head back so he had to look at you, his blue eyes blown wide and dark. "You're a goddamn wreck hiding in a bathroom because you can't stand yourself."

He let out a sound that was half-growl, half-sob, and before you could move, he reached out and hauled you over the edge of the tub. You hit the water fully clothed, the shock of the heat and the weight of him pressing you back against the porcelain making your head swim. He didn't care about the logistics. He grabbed the waistband of your jeans, the fabric groaning before he simply ripped them down, his strength barely restrained as he stripped the wet denim away from your legs.

He was frantic, his hands fumbling with your shirt while his mouth searched for yours with a sort of desperate clumsiness. He tasted like salt and iron, his tongue pushing into your mouth with an uncoordinated need that felt like he was trying to find something inside you he could keep.

"Make me stop," he gasped against your skin, his hands shaking as he pressed you into the tile. "Tell me I'm yours. Tell me I'm a good boy."

"Get on your knees," you breathed, the words probably coming out sharper than you originally intended.

The Great American Hero didn't hesitate. He shifted in the cramped space, the water splashing over the sides as he lowered himself, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it was going to leave bruises. He looked up at you from the other end of the tub, his face clean of blood but his expression utterly wrecked, a mix of need and worship that made the room feel like it was quickly running out of oxygen.

His head dropped between your legs, his tongue working with a desperate, slobbering intensity that had him moaning onto your cock. He was looking for friction, his hips rutting against the porcelain of the tub as he devoured you, his fingers digging into the backs of your knees. You grabbed a handful of his wet blonde hair, yanking his head back so he had to look at you while he worked. His blue eyes were practically black with arousal, fixed on your face with a terrifying adoration.

"Please," he slurred against your thigh, the water turning frothy as he moved. "Please, can I? Can I fuck you? I've been so good. I'm a good boy, right?"

"You're a mess," you whispered, guiding him up. "But yeah. Get in here."

He wasted no time, sliding his cock into you with a slow, agonizing glide that had him gasping for air. He stayed still for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours, his body trembling as he waited for you to adjust to the stretch. Then the rhythm broke. The slow roll of his hips turned into a rough, pounding desperation, his skin slapping against yours in a wet, rhythmic cadence that filled the small room. He was practically begging, his body responding to every sharp command you leveled at him.

He babbled into your ear, promises of belonging and desperate "I love you"s that sounded more like threats than endearments. "You're so full, baby. I'm filling you up just like I promised. Tell me you're mine. Tell me I'm yours."

The water was splashing everywhere, the tub groaning under the weight of his movements. He sped up, his hips slamming into yours with a rough, uncoordinated force that threatened to break the tile. The sound of wet skin hitting skin echoed off the bathroom walls, a frantic, messy soundtrack to the way he was losing his mind inside of you. He reached down, his fingers clumsily looking for yours so he could pin your hands back, needing the physical reminder that you were trapped under his weight, even as he was the one serving you. He was rutting into you now, his heavy cock bottoming out with every desperate thrust, his eyes never leaving yours.

When he finally dumped his load into you, his balls constricting as rope after rope hit your insides, he let out a long, quiet chant of "Thank you" and "I love you" until the tension finally left his body. He collapsed against your chest, his softening cock still twitching inside you, the water in the tub still swirling around your waists as his heart hammered like a trapped bird against his ribs.

By the time the water had gone cold, the room felt heavier than it had when he was covered in blood. You leaned back against the tile, your breathing finally starting to level out while he sat there, tracing uncoordinated patterns on your leg with a wet finger.

“Did I do a good job?” he asked, his voice small and innocent, as if he hadn't just rearranged your guts in a bathtub.

“You were super, John," you muttered, the exhaustion finally pulling you under. "Good boy.”

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You swallow, the sound loud in the sudden stillness. “You’re shaking.”

He laughs under his breath, a warm puff of air against your cheek. “That’s the faith leaving my body.”

No masters or kings.

Your back hits the wall—not hard, just deliberate. The kind of pressure that says stay. The plaster is cool and solid through the thin fabric of your shirt, a grounding point in the chaos. His body cages you in, heat and intention, his voice low enough to feel rather than hear.

“When the ritual begins,” he murmurs, “they expect blood.”

His mouth traces your jaw, slow, reverent. Not kissing yet. The rough scrape of his evening stubble is a delicious friction against your skin, a prelude that makes your nerves hum. Testing restraint like a sin he’s about to commit.

“I prefer breath.”

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin.

When he finally kisses you, it’s deep—unapologetic. Not frantic, but hungry in a way that’s been denied too long. He tastes of mint and something darker, like coffee and longing. Like he’s been fasting and you’re the first thing he’s allowed to taste.

You make a sound before you can stop yourself, a soft, helpless noise that’s swallowed by his mouth.

Keeho freezes just long enough to smile against your mouth, the curve of his lips a brand against yours.

“That,” he says softly, “is the sound they warned me about.”

Your hands slide into his hair, ruining it, grounding him. The strands are surprisingly soft, silken between your fingers. “Then why are you smiling?”

“Because if this is what damns me,” he whispers, lips brushing yours again, a feather-light touch that’s more intimate than the kiss itself, “I’ve never felt so saved.”

In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene, his hands roam—slow, deliberate—learning you like scripture rewritten. His palms are warm as they map the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, each touch a question with only one acceptable answer. Every touch is a question with only one acceptable answer.

Your breath stutters. “Keeho…”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide, swallowing the color of his irises. Eyes dark, earnest, dangerous—like he’s standing at the edge of something irreversible.

“Say stop,” he says. “And I’ll kneel.”

You don’t.

Instead, you cup his face, thumbs brushing beneath his eyes like you’re blessing him—or condemning him. You can feel the faint, frantic thrum of his pulse against your fingertips.

Your voice doesn’t shake.

“Your name is my religion,” you say quietly.

“Your body is the only thing I worship.”

“And your words are the only thing I follow.”

For a moment, Keeho forgets how to breathe.

Only then I am human.

His forehead falls against yours, a broken sound leaving his chest—not laughter, not tears, but something undone. The sound is raw, caught in the space where your breath mingles.

“Then we’re both damned,” he whispers.

His mouth finds your throat, your collarbone, reverent as worship, desperate as hunger. Each press of his lips is a new point of heat, a slow burn against your skin that feels both like a surrender and a conquest. Each kiss feels like defiance—soft, deliberate blasphemy.

“If kissing you costs me my life,” he says against your skin, voice rough now, stripped bare, the vibration of his words sinking deep into your bones, “then let them sharpen the blade.”

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, the firm muscle beneath his shirt a tangible anchor. “You’d really give it up?”

He lifts his head, eyes locked on yours.

“For you?” A breath. A truth.

“I’d offer it gladly.”

Only then I am clean.

Because this, this choosing, is the first commandment either of you has ever believed in.

He presses his forehead to yours, breathing hard, undone. The world narrows to this single point of contact, to the ragged sound of his breathing and the frantic beat of your own heart.

“Ooh… amen,” he whispers—not as surrender, but as vow.

You kiss him again—deeper, slower—like sealing scripture written in skin instead of ink. It’s a kiss that feels like an ending and a beginning, all at once.

Not asking for forgiveness.

Not seeking heaven.

Just choosing each other.

Amen.

they set up a date for the next night at jackson’s apartment. “come over at nine, door will be unlocked, just walk in and get on your knees". that night yn jerked off twice thinking about it. he texted jackson back, “see you tonight daddy", at nine o’clock yn stood outside the apartment door, his heart hammering against his ribs and his cock already half hard in his jeans. he pushed it open, the place was expensive, the city lights glowing against the huge windows. yn wandered around the living room until something caught his attention.

a picture. a picture with a teenage boy with the same sharp jaw, the same cocky smirk of certain fucker, luke. yn’s stomach dropped, luke wang—his high school bully, the same luke who made his life hell for two years straight—the flashback hit him hard, memories flooded back. during freshman year, yn had just come out quietly to a couple of friends but word spread quickly on the classroom. luke and his friends cornered him in the locker room after pe classes, they shoved him against the cold metal lockers. luke laughed in his face, “look at this little fag getting hard just from us looking at him”. they yanked his shorts down in front of everyone, pointing at his half hard dick. they called him pathetic, useless, a cocksucking loser who’d never get laid and other shameful words. every day after that it got worse to the point of becoming physical in some occasions. luke always smirked like he owned the world, dad’s money, dad’s connections, he believed he was a untouchable motherfucker. yn transferred schools during senior year just to breathe again, to feel relieved and away of all those problems. finally some peace for him and his heart, he can finally rest and try to heal all those wounds. maybe some day be happy… right?

now here he was, matched with luke’s dad on a gay dating app, who would've thought?.

revenge, the word crossed his mind repeatedly. fuck luke’s dad, ruin the man who raised that piece of shit. make him pay for everything his son did. maybe… just maybe, that's the only thing he needs to heal completely, to let go of that awful past…

yn’s cock throbbed at the thought, he knew it was fucked up, but the heat in his belly won.

jackson stepped out of the kitchen in nothing but those gray sweatpants, his bare chest glistening with sweat, he was working out, that same thick cock outline pressing heavy against the fabric, he wasn't wearing any underwear under it. “took you long enough, pretty boy” jackson growled, his voice deep and low.

yn didn’t waste time. he closed the door, dropped to his knees right there in the entry and yanked the sweatpants down, the fat dick sprang out, heavy and already leaking.

he spit on it, messy strings dripping down yn’s chin every time the dick went out his mouth, then is swallowed half in one go, choking himself with it. jackson groaned in pleasure, his hand fisting yn’s hair, “fuck, that mouth is so greedy. you been thinking about this all day?”, yn moaned with every slurp, he pulled off, the spit running down his chin, then he looked up with watery glassy eyes, “you have no idea whose hole you’re about to wreck”, he smirked and didn’t explain anything, he just dove back in, sucking sloppyly and loud, his tongue swirling the head and the spit bubbling and leaking at the corners of his lips.

jackson fucked his face slow at first, then harder and faster, his balls slapping yn’s chin and making the drool pouring down yn’s neck onto his shirt, staining it.

they barely made it to the bedroom. jackson discarded yn’s clothes off, like an impatient hungry beast, he threw him face down on the king bed with his ass up. he spreaded those cheeks wide, spit a thick glob right on yn’s hole and watched it drip. “looks do fucking tight, bet no one has ruined this pretty boy pussy yet”. his tongue followed the trail left by the glob of spit, it was hot and wet, licking broad stripes and then pushing inside of the rim, eating yn out like he was starving.

yn moaned loud, pushing his ass back, his fingers gripping the sheets until his knuckles turned white. jackson added two fingers and moved them fast, doing a rough scissor motion, spitting more to keep it slick, “please daddy… fuck me” yn gasped, the word daddy making the other hornier.

jackson flipped yn onto his back, hooked his legs over his shoulders, then lined up his thick cock and slammed in balls deep in one thrust. yn screamed, his eyes rolling back, the stretch burning feeling so good. jackson didn’t go slow, he pounded hard, the sweat dripping from his chest onto yn’s stomach.

the bed started rocking, jackson's balls slapped loud on yn’s ass with every thrust. “take it, take daddy’s cock like the slut you are” jackson grunted, leaning down to spit directly into yn’s open mouth. the bottom swallowed it greedily, then grabbed jackson by his neck and pulled him down for a messy, sloppy kiss.

jackson bit yn’s lip hard enough to draw a whimper out of him, then railed him deeper, making sure every inch is inside of the other. sweat poured off both of them, soaking the sheets under them, the room smelling like musk and sex, yn’s cock bouncing at the rhythm of jackson's thrusts, leaking all over his own stomach. jackson flipped him again, this time with his ass up, shoving his face into the pillow, with one hand choking the back of yn’s neck and the other slapping his ass bright red.

“gonna fill this hole up, breed you like the cumdump you are” yn pushed back, moaning, “yes daddy, cum inside me”.

knowing this was luke’s dad destroying his hole, the same bloodline that used to humiliate him now making him feel like a god, who would've thought after all that humiliation he would now be worshipped.

jackson pulled out suddenly, flipping yn onto his back again. he straddled his chest and shoved the wet cock down his throat, mercilessly. yn gagged, tears forming on the corners of his eyes, spit bubbled while he sucked like his life depended on it. jackson face fucked him hard, then pulled out and shot the first thick ropes across yn’s face, painting his lips and tongue in white. yn licked it up and moaned “more, give me more… daddy”, jackson jerked the rest onto yn’s tongue and slapped his tip on it, then pushed back in to let him suck the last drops that seeped out of the slit.

but the top wasn’t done. jackson opened yn’s legs wide and slammed back inside the cum-slick hole. he fucked using his own load as lube, making creamy sounds that filled the room. yn couldn't hold it anymore so his cock exploded untouched, shooting ropes across his chest and torso, but jackson didn't stopped, he kept going, going for a second round.

they continued for hours, like they were sex deprived for so long. jackson fucked him in every position: missionary, doggy, riding, etc., occasionally jackson would shove his fingers in alongside his cock, to stretching yn wider. jackson came again deep inside, pulling out to watch it seep out of the railed hole, then pushed it back in with his fingers. finally jackson collapsed on top of yn, both panting, tired, bodies marked and flushed.

jackson kissed yn slow and deep, savouring every bit of it. yn smiled against his mouth, whispering, “thanks for the best fuck of my life”. he has luke's dad in the palm of his hand, if this hookup comes out to the light it will probably ruin their perfect image.

the morning after the hookup, yn woke up sore, he stretched in his bed, then stayed there, staring at the ceiling while a million things happened in his head. fucking luke’s dad once wasn’t enough. it felt… good—it was incredible—but he wanted something more, something that would actually hurt luke’s perfect little life the way luke’s cruelty has hurt yn for years.

he grabbed his phone from the nightstand and saw jackson’s message “last night was insane. round two?”, yn smirked and typed back “sure daddy. but first i need to tell you something”, he then sent a second message, “meet me for coffee tomorrow?”. jackson replied almost instantly “yeah. tell me where”.

yn spent the rest of the day plotting his revenge. he didn’t want to just expose the him and watch mrs. wang cry, that was too… silly? too common.

he wanted a big scandal, something messy and public, something that would make luke see his untouchable family name dragged through filth. he remembered luke bragging back in high school about his mom being some high-profile executive, the kind who curated the perfect images for politicians and celebrities. yn could get proofs—texts, photos, perhaps even a video of jackson cheating—and when he leaked it strategically…

he could see the divorce headlines or luke’s fucking face. but he wasn’t stupid, he needed jackson hooked deeper first, addicted to him, so desperate that he keeps coming back even after the truth came out.

so he decided: more sex, make that cheating man obsessed, make him beg for his hole, then when the moment was right, yn would confess everything, watching his revenge finally accomplished.

they met at a quiet cafe, two blocks from jackson’s apartment. jackson walked in, he spotted yn and his eyes zeroed on him instantly. he slid into the booth across from him, yn leaned forward with a low voice,“last night was just the start. i want more. a lot more. but there’s something you should know first”. jackson raised an eyebrow, curious, “tell me”.

yn licked his lips, “i know who you are… i know your son. luke. he used to make my life hell in high school” he paused and swallowed, “he bullied me until i transferred schools. called me fag, humiliated me in front of everyone. i hated him… i still do” jackson’s face went still, he didn’t speak for what it seems like eternity but then he said “and you matched with me… on purpose?” to which yn nodded.

“at first it was revenge. fuck the dad of the guy who fucked my life up. but then you… you fucked me so good i-i decided i wanted to keep going”, he continued confessing, “and then i’ll tell your wife everything. send her the proofs of the affair. your perfect family cracking open, maybe she leaves you or not, we all know you rich people only care about image”, he paused again and took a sip of his drink, “maybe luke finally feels a fraction of what i felt”.

jackson stared, clenching his jaw. yn waited for anger, for him to storm out or even threatening him but instead jackson leaned in “you’re playing a dangerous game”, he said.“i know. but that makes it hot” yn replied in a whispered tone, cockily—jackson’s hand slid under the table and gripped yn’s thigh hard, “you think you can ruin me and i’ll just let you do it?”, yn chuckled, “i think you’ll let me because this…” yn reached under the table too and palmed the thick bulge in jackson’s pants, “this gets harder every time i talk about it”, jackson exhaled sharp through his nose, “fuck it, let’s get out of here”.

they barely made it back to the apartment. jackson quickly discarded his clothes and yn’s, shoved the other against the hallway wall, spat on his fingers and shoved them in without warning. yn gasped, his head hitting softly the wall. jackson growled, pumping them rough, curling the fingers to hit that sweet spot.

“thinking you can blackmail me with this tight pussy”, he said, every word laced with anger that he channelled to his fingers, obliterating the other's ass merely with his digits. “it’s not blackmail” yn panted, grinding back on the fingers. “just… motivation… for more. keep fucking me like this and maybe i will delete the screenshots i’m gonna take later”. jackson laughed, pulling his fingers out and replaced them with his cock in one hard thrust.

yn cried out due to the stretch sensation, his nails scratching the wall. jackson fucked him there, standing, fast and mean with no mercy, one hand clamped over yn’s mouth to muffle his moans while the other yanked his hair back so his neck is exposed and he can bite it, “gonna mark you up, little whore”, jackson muttered.

“let luke see those bruises and make him wonder who wrecked his high school bitch”, yn came hard without being touched, spurting cum against the wall, his legs shaking while riding his high. jackson didn’t stop tho, he just kept pounding through the clench of the bottom’s hole, grunting like an animal. “that’s it, cum on daddy’s cock”.

they finally made it to the bedroom. jackson threw yn onto the mattress face down, climbed over him and pinned his wrists above his head with his big veiny hand. he fucked him slow now, his hips making a slow and sensual pace that drove yn crazy, letting yn feel every inch of that cock dragging out and slamming back in his used hole.

jackson kissed him messily, it's something normal in them now, their tongues sliding through the mess of saliva. yn swallowed it, moaned into it. jackson pulled out, flipped yn onto his back and went back in, he watched his own cock disappear into that slick, puffy hole over and over, enjoying the view and sensation, “look at your puffy pussy, i’m gonna make you walk out of here dripping so much of cum you’d stain your jeans”. he jerked yn off, matching the pace of his hand with his thrusts, his thumb smearing precum over the head, making yn arch his back, “daddy, fuck—cum in me again, fucking breed me more”. jackson slammed deep until he finally orgasmed, thick ropes flooded yn’s insides until it squelched with every small movement.

he stayed there, buried and grinding slow, pushing his seed deeper. minutes later he pulled out slow to watch the creamy load ooze out. he scooped some with two fingers and fed it to yn, yn sucked them clean, his eyes always locked on jackson’s, “good boy” jackson murmured, maintaining the eye contact, “ride me?, show me how bad you want to ruin me”, yn climbed on top, straddled him and sank down slow without hesitation until he bottomed out.

he rolled his hips, grinding, then started bouncing, his ass slapping against jackson’s thighs, jackson gripped yn’s waist to help slam him down harder and faster, hungry to feel those velvet walls wrapped around his thick lenght. yn’s cock bounced, leaking and smearing sticky trails across jackson’s abs.

jackson sucked on yn’s tongue like he was starving and bit his bottom lip. yn kept milking every inch, “you make me feel so good. i’m gonna cum again baby”. yn gasped against jackson’s mouth, “i feel so full” he moaned. “take daddy’s load” he says as he came with a guttural groan, pumping another thick round deep. yn’s orgasmed too, shooting ropes across Jackson's body and chin.

they both collapsed next to each other, panting.“you’re not getting rid of me that easy” jackson spoke, kissing yn’s sweaty temple and hugging him smaller frame.

“ruin me all you want. just keep letting me wreck this ass”.

yn smiled, lazy and satisfied, already thinking about the chaos he can unfold. but for now, he just nuzzles himself next to jackson like a cat.

After A hard day of chasing miles morales he eventually escaped with the help of his friends. now he has to find Miles all over again and not to mention the anomaly "The Spot" thats constantly being a pain in the ass to even get a finger on. disappointed Miguel went back to the spidey HQ to asses the situation with layla; its late at night and everyone already went home so he has to pull an all nighter for this one. as he was about to enter his dark and quiet office when he noticed a cubicle being lit up by a computer; he went over to check at the cubicle.

"hey! who's there? (y/n)? why are you still here? you should be home." Miguel asks with frustration and disappointment. you were his assistant but he doesn't want you to work late hours just like him. he worries that you'll be exhausted.

"oh sorry sir. i was just doing paperwork and theres quite a few..." you say let out an awkward laugh as you rub the back of your neck. Miguel puts his hand on his hips as he squeezes the bridge of his nose with the other one; "just get it done... and will you get me a coffee while you're at it? if you dont mind." he said with a deep and exhausted voice. "uh yes sir, ill get you a coffee as soon as possible!" you say immediately as you get up and go to the coffee shop just across the street. Miguel sighs as he turns his back and entering his office again.

you grabbed your coat and prepared to exit the building into the cold and windy night. there were rarely any cars around as you walk across the street; the silent buzzing of the lamp above you as you walk, the damp sound of your boots thumping the ground, your hot breath as you exhale around the cold air; it was all so calming to be just by yourself and not worrying about any reports or documents to get done. ring you enter the coffee shop and greet the barista "hey! (y/n)! nice to see you" Joe plasters a wide grin on his face as he waves at you. "hey Joe can i get the usual?" you chuckle as you approach the enthusiastic barkeep. it puzzles you how someone could be this energetic especially when its late at night. "one latte and café americano coming right up" Joe smiles as he gets to work and you sit down by the window silently observing the place you work at. The towering building reminds you of so much; the first time you went there for your job application, the people you met and hanged out with. ever since you started working here it's been great; you were able to hold down a job and live a comfortable life. ding Joe rang a bell and you snap out of your melancholic trance. "Here's your order (y/n)" you get up from your seat and hand him the payment "Thanks Joe I'll see you around" you chuckle as you wave goodbye and head back to your boss who's waiting for his coffee.

You reach the 20th floor and exit the elevator; you make your wake to his office. "ugh... (y/n)" you hear muffled moans when you approach the door when you hear his deep growls your body immediately tenses up. "you're so cute..." You peep through a slight crevice through the door. you see him then and there stroking his throbbing cock as he calls out your name. "im close... (y/n)" you gasp as you back away and clear your throat. "Sir? your coffee is here" you knock on the door. "Oh- uhh come in!" coffee in hand, you enter his poorly lit office. he always preferred it that way although, you always wondered why. "Here is your coffee sir a caffé americano just as you like it" your body tenses up more as you know he's hard down there and its because of you; as you place it down Miguel suddenly grabs your wrist his talons flexing and protruding "i heard you peeping at me through that hole (y/n)" as Miguel pulls you close to him your body freezes on the spot "do you want a better view cariño?" he leans in and you can see his tip dripping wet with precum.

"Please... Miguel..." you try to avoid his gaze but he grabs your chin and tilts your head downward as he forces you to look at him "Please what cariño?" Miguel lets out a deep and menacing laugh "Be clear with your words boy." Miguel says sternly as he grips one of your thighs with his hands. his sharp talons poking your thigh but not enough to draw blood. "Please... continue..." Miguel's lips curled into a grin "That's more like it. good boy" Miguel begins to move his calloused hands; as it travels up your body he lets his fingers slide through your smooth and soft skin. "your skin im feels like a soft cloud mi vida.." Miguel says as he leans in your neck leaving behind a couple kisses here and there. Miguel continues tracing the shape of your body and he lands on where he started. He pinches and twisted your nipples it tingled and burned against his touch. this turned you into a moaning and whimpering mess. "Miguel... that feels so good..." you bite your lip and you begin to move your hips rubbing against his huge boner. the shape of his girth and the way he was playing with your chest like stress balls drowned you in pure ecstasy. "Getting impatient now are we cariño?" Miguel stops what he's doing and he grabs your waist "Such small and slutty waist i wonder how they'll feel when i use them" He grabs your ass and spreads them "oh and im sure these will feel good too" Miguel looks you dead in the eye letting you know what he's about to do next

"im sorry sir i didn't mean to-" Miguel cuts you off mid sentence as he lifts you up and he places you on his lap. you can feel his boner pressing against your rear as he stares you down ready to absolutely swallow you whole. "shhh callate ahora... we can keep this a secret cariño" Miguel leans in close to your ear as he nibbles on your earlobe; his fangs slightly poking your ear. "you're so adorable cariño all tense like that... i could eat you up right here..." Miguel's hands creep under your clothes as he traces your back. his warm hands making you involuntarily whimper as you arch your back; Miguel smirks as he heard you let out a quiet whimper "Que lindo (How cute)" Miguel removes his hands as he violently rips your buttoned down long sleeve polo. this makes you gasp and "that was my favorite shirt..." Miguel chuckles "Well, you look better without it" Miguel looks up at you as his smug expression seems to be clearly enjoying your reaction. "What do we have here?" Miguel's eyes fell to your chest, letting his calloused hands travel to your waist and closer to your thighs. But something glimmering caught his attention. "Oh?" A low chuckle would rumble as he traced his fingers around your nipple piercing, "What do we have here?" he flicks your pierced nipples. "where have you been hiding this huh? such a naughty naughty boy" Miguel continues to flick and twist your pierced nipple as he takes the other one in his mouth. "ahh... Miguel..." Miguel smiles deviously as he takes your swollen nipple in his mouth. "Hold still cariño" Miguel growls as he plays with the metal object that's attached to your nipple using his tongue. you start to moan and whimper as he plays around with your swollen and sensitive chest; "Miguel... too good..." your chest rises and falls as every sensation shoots pleasure up your brain and makes your whole body start to shake. Miguel stops abruptly as he smirks and leans in your ear "Yeah? Beg for it then."

as he was about to tear your clothes to shreds you two were interrupted by a facetime call. he picks you up and sets you down under his desk and his bulge throbbing right in front of you. the shape of his dick under his Spider-Man suit was impressive. his hard cock pressing against the tight fabric as he sat down properly; it was irresistible. your eyes were fixed at his cock glaring back at you as if its taunting you to suck it. you hear miguel talk with one of the Spider-Man that he worked with earlier you decided to have your turn with him. you slowly unzip his Spidey suit his cock immediately springs out and it even slaps your face. Miguel's eyes widened as he looked down at you; his eyes fueled with surprise and rage "Uh miguel? Are you listening?" Miguel Clears his throat and looks back up "Uh yes, you were saying?" Miguel continues his conversation with the nice lady hes on the phone with. You slowly licked Miguel's tip; the w way his precum drips down your tongue like a busted faucet makes you want to lick it up more. you start licking the base of his shaft and then his glans. "So it seems that the spot wa-" Miguel abruptly stops with a groan as you lick up his leaking tip. "Miguel? you good?" Miguel snarls at you knowing he cant do anything yet "yeah im fine, im kind of busy right now ill call you later" Miguel bids farewell to the nice person as he ends the call. you dont even notice their conversation as youre too busy licking up and lapping his dripping dick. Miguel growls at you "You really want my dick that badly huh? you cant wait to slobber all over it? have at it then" Miguel grabs a handful of your hair as he lines up his dick to your mouth and pushes; He pushes it in deep all the way to the base of his huge cock. "how do you like that huh? i bet youre enjoying the taste of my cock now its all the way down your throat like a good slut you are"

your protests were muffled by Miguel's whole length down your throat. "MmpH!" was all you managed to say as you gripped on his thighs trying desperately to pull away. "Whats wrong (Y/n)? wasnt this what you wanted huh?" Miguel snaps at you he sounded pissed and he wants to put you in your place. Miguel then pressed down further you chin dripping with spit and drool as it sticks to Miguel's balls; he lets go just to catch your breath. "Hah... hah..." your chest falls and rises rapidly as Miguel's precum dripped down his shaft. "We're not done yet cariño" Miguel laughs sadistically as he grabs you by your arms and pins both your hands on his desk "since you clearly want it so bad, ill give it to you good" miguel rips apart your pants his rough hands traces your waist. he moves down lower as he reaches your ass and he feels around. "oh this will be good" his laugh gets deeper and colder as he bends over; his hot throbbing dick pressed against your lower back. "You'll regret playing me (Y/n)" his talons flex as he opens your ass wide open. rip the sound of fabric tearing as he finally rips apart the last remaining clothing you had on. "your puckering hole is just waiting to get fucked" Miguel slaps his drool coated dick on your rear he whispers to you "im gonna make you cry and beg for more"

/Time skip/

Miguel stops abruptly as he opens a drawer and takes out lube you stare at it as he squeezes some on his hand "wait- why do you have lube in your office?" you pant as you ask Miguel "Its better to be ready and not need it or need it and not be ready" Miguel says panting as he rubs some of the lube on his dripping dick. an idea flashes through your mind as you push him down his office chair. "its my turn to take the wheel" you say as you get on his lap and line his dick on your hole. you slowly lower yourself down halfway and you stop. His impressive size was appalling; it already felts so good half-way in you. savoring the sensation you try to prepare yourself for his girth. Miguel seems annoyed as you suddenly stop moving. he grabs your slutty waist and rams you down his fat cock. you let out a lewd moan as it crushes your prostate. you gasp as you try to collect your thoughts from the sudden sensation burning your mind. Miguel pants and squeezes your ass as he begins to thrust on your fat piece of cake. he growls and squeezes down not letting you go anywhere but deeper down on his cock. he watches you bounce up and down while you make noises of pleasure making him smile proudly. "yeah.. thats right be a good boy and take my cock like a slut." Miguel pushes you down deeper as his cock directly presses on your g spot. "Miguel... please..." you beg miguel as he stops and just keeps his cock in you. its throbbing and twitching like crazy. "Not yet Cariño... i wanna see you ride me." Miguel Sneers as you squeeze down on him. As you start riding in your own pace Miguel leans back and puts his hands on the back of his head enjoying the view before him. the more you ride his cock them more it seems to grow inside of you. As you moved yourself up and won on him you began to drool. the wet slicking of his dick on your ass felt so good; everytime it hits your prostate you were sure too see a glimpse of heaven. "You look so good in this position Cariño" Miguel reaches down and feels your hips and thighs as you ride him. saddling up to make yourself feel secure as he guides along your waist as he watches you ride.

“On my way now,” one of your friends replies. You respond with a hum and keep the trio at bay while you await your teammate.

“Knocked one,” you add as you shoot one of your enemies. You watch them fall to the ground and crawl away from the crossfire. You curse to yourself when you take damage. Your health bar falling significantly. “Hurry up. One of them is low and my health is at 37,” You order your squad, glancing at the map, hoping to see familiar arrows. “Fuck you guys.” You grumble when you don’t see any arrows. At that moment, you were shot again and your character collapsed to the ground.

You attempt to run and hide until your teammates arrive yet your opponent trailed behind you. You let out a long heavy sigh as all of your items fall to the ground. The large words above state “ELIMINATED BY MATTTHEMUNCH” in yellow. You drop your controller in annoyance and grab your phone. “Somebody get my reboot card, please,” you murmured before mindlessly scrolling through your phone.

You then hear 3 loud knocks at your door. You ponder for a moment, debating whether or not you want to open it. You ignore it and continue scrolling on your phone. 3 more knocks follow, louder and heavier than the first. You huff and roll your eyes. “Coming!” You call out, not bothering to hide the irritation in your tone. “Be right back.” You inform your friends. You stand and slip your phone into your pants pocket, slowly strolling over to the door.

You glance through the peephole to see your landlord. Oh shit. Your stomach immediately dropped and your heart started racing. Your landlord was a big guy, he barely smiled, and could probably slam you against a wall without trying. You are honestly surprised that he hasn't yet. Especially with how much you poked at him. You jumped when he bangs on the door again. “Alright, alright!” You bark. You undo your locks and open the door.

You come face to face with him. His brown eyes moved down and bore into yours. Finally, you clear your throat. “Do you need something or are you just here to stare?” You question him. You watch as his eyes examine you up and down, lingering on your waist where your boxers were slightly exposed a little too long. He then clears his throat as well.

“Rent was due yesterday,” he informs you.

“I know, I know, Mr. O’Hara,” you sigh, leaning against your door. “I’ll have it for you by tomorrow, promise.” You tell him and give him a small smile.

“In full?” He hums, raising one eyebrow at you. Your lips part to speak but nothing comes out. You frown when you hear him sigh.

“Yeah… in full,” you finally confirm, giving him a nod.

“Alright then, I’ll be waiting,” he says. You wave goodbye and watch as he walks away. You definitely weren’t gonna have that money by tomorrow. Not in full At least. You could…try to get out of it. But what if he rejected it? That would be embarrassing as fuck. Though, you’ve seen him hanging out with some guy with brown hair often. They argued like an old married couple and interacted like shy high school girls.

You huff and tell yourself that you were doing this. You step out of your apartment, the bottom of your feet pressing against the rocky pavement. “Miguel?” You call out. The man on the stairs turned around, eyeing you. “Maybe, I could pay you in some other way? And you won’t have to wait until tomorrow.” You mutter, a sudden nervousness coming over you. He doesn’t respond but you hear footsteps approaching you and Miguel soon towers over you.

You glance up at him and you gulp. “You trying to flirt with me, tonto?” He questions. You let out a shaky breath and nod. A chuckle then erupts from his throat. He grins as he looks down at you. “Fine.”

“What?” You blink. You were taken aback by his answer. If anything, you expected him to laugh at you or be rude.

“I said, fine. I’ll take you up on that offer,” he repeats.

“Oh, right,” you nod. You gesture for him to follow you inside and you step into your apartment. A small weight on your shoulders from his stare. Brown eyes boring into your back. You quickly turn off your gaming system. Its soft hum going quiet. You let your friends know you were getting off and toss your headset aside. “I’ll grab something to drink, you can sit on the couch.”

You walk over to the kitchen, nervously filling two glasses of iced tea. You then approach him on the couch, placing the two glasses on the coffee table in front of him. You just slightly bend over to put the cups down, your ass on display for Miguel for just a second. Right when you stand, a large hand grabs yours and he pulls you down onto him. You straddle his lap, hands on his muscular chest and his hand gripping your waist. You suck in a tight breath in surprise.

“Cálmate cariño. You offered, didn't you?” Miguel whispers, drawing circles on your skin with his thumb. He then grabs your chin and pulls you into him. Your lips move in sync before he slides his tongue across your bottom lip. You feel his free hand, snaking up your abdomen. Slipping under your tank top as his hand explores your chest. His fingers soon find one of your nipples and they pinch down, softly messaging it between his fingertips. You gasp and whimper into the kiss. He took this moment to slide his tongue past your lips.

You passionately but messily kiss him as he explores your mouth. You break away to catch your breath, a trail of saliva connecting your lips. He doesn’t waste any time hooking his lips onto your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin. One of your hands makes its way into his hair. You could feel him trying to find your spot. Where he could really Fuck with you.

“Fuck Miguel,” you groan, fingers curling around his dark hair when he kissed a certain spot on your neck. You feel him smirk against your skin.

“Found your sweet spot, hm?” He chuckles. You roll your eyes at him and he obviously takes notice. “Practicing for later?” He questions before attacking your throat again. You continue to whimper and whine as he presses his lips on your sensitive spot. Suddenly, you feel his teeth sink into your skin.

“Holy, fuck!” You gasp, your other hand tightening around his shirt fabric. You bite down on your bottom lip hard as he removes his canine-like teeth, his tongue lapping over the spot. Once satisfied, he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Get on your knees for me, will you?” He whispers into your ear, his breath tickling on your skin. You nod and sink from his lap onto your knees. You sat in between his legs, his crotch inches away from your face. “Good boy.” You hear him mutter. You gulp as he slightly lifts his hips, lowering his pants and the waistband of his boxers. Excitement and nervousness fill your mind, your eyes trained on his crotch while he extracts his cock.

You stare in shock when you finally see it. He was big. Really fucking big. “I—I don’t know if I can—“ you mumble, eyes fixated on his girth.

“You can do it, cariño,” Miguel reassures you. You take a deep breath and wrap your hand around his base. You stroke him a few times, teasing his tip with your tongue at the same time. You hear him let out a few shaky breaths above you. You could tell he was sensitive. “Quit teasing me.”

“Not my fault you’re so sensitive,” you mutter in response. He scoffs above you and curses something in Spanish that you don’t catch. You finally wrap your lips around his tip and he stretches your jaw, painfully. You slowly lower yourself, gagging around him as he fills you up. Once you are in a sort of comfortable position, you begin bobbing your head. Fighting the urge to gag as his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Lo bueno es que tú boca bonita compensa tu actitud,” Miguel groans, throwing his head back as you run his length over your tongue. You felt tears start to prick your eyes, your hands gripping the couch. While Miguel’s large hand caresses your face, running it through your scalp every so often. Suddenly he takes a fistful of your hair and thrust his hips up into your mouth.

You cry out as he bucks his hips, filling your mouth. His precum coating your throat. “Told you…you fit me just perfect,” Miguel grins at you, slight rasps in his voice as he speaks. You look up at him with glossy eyes while he looks down at you. His eyes are half-lidded as he takes in your expression. The sight of you below him only fueled him to chase his high. Miguel wipes the tears rolling down your cheeks, his thumb softly running over your skin. He’s been waiting for a moment like this. A moment where he could finally shut you up, have you below him, barely able to remember your own name.

You feel his hips stutter as cum spurts down your throat. You gag around Miguel’s girth and he pushes your head down. His pubes just barely touch the skin right above your lip. He holds you there for a moment like he was trying to take a photograph with his mind. You softly tap his leg, begging for him to release you. He finally moves his hand and you lift your hea, coughing at the liquid sticking to your mouth. “Be a good boy and swallow it,” Miguel commands you. You nod and take down his cum.

You stick out your tongue and he inspects your mouth. Nodding in satisfaction. “Strip then C’mere,” he tells you. You part your lips to challenge him but stay silent. You slowly pull off your tank top, tossing it aside before pulling down your pajama pants and stepping out of them. Miguel eyes you the whole time, his glare straining on your growing erection.

“It feels kinda unfair that I'm the only one naked here,” you scoff, crossing your arms.

“Get over it,” Miguel remarks, grabbing your wrists and pulling you to him. He pulls you into another quick kiss before muttering against your lips, “Get on your hands and knees for me, please?” You break away from him and do as he asked.

“Good boy,” he mumbles. You felt him pull down your boxers and toss them with the rest of your clothes. You gasp softly as he takes your mound of flesh into his hand squeezing it. He slightly parts the two, revealing your entrance. You shudder when he spits on it and the warm sensation hits you. “You haven’t done this before, have you?”

“No,” you shyly reply.

“It’s alright, I’ll take care of you, cariño,” Miguel assures you. Suddenly his tongue presses against your hole, lapping around it. You fall onto your forearms because of the odd feeling. He then pushes past your entrance, his tongue caressing your walls.

“Fuck,” you whisper, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. He wets your insides with saliva while you ball your hands in your fist. You sigh when he pulls away, the warmth of his mouth leaving you. Then a sudden burn hits you, your hole stretching around his finger. You hiss and squeeze your eyes shut. The pain soon turns into pleasure as he pumps his finger in and out of you. “Ngh— feels good,” you mumble.

“Yeah? I'm making you feel good, pretty boy?” He teases before slipping another finger in. You let out a pornographic moan, your hands clawing at the furniture beneath you. Miguel continues thrusting his fingers while caressing your ass. His hand comes down on the flesh harshly, making you whine.

“That… fucking hurt, asshole,” you huff, not bothering to glance back at him. He simply repeats his action as you wince. The sting of his palm lingering on your skin.

“You’ll be alright,” he mutters. You feel his breath on your stinging flesh, warm and ragged against you. You let out a groan when his teeth sink into you.

“Holy shit, Mig,” you gasp when your knees almost give out below you. He pulls away, tongue lapping over the mark. Then, he removes his fingers from your hole, licking up the juices that coated them. You frown at the emptiness, wiggling your hips in annoyance. Miguel grabs your waist and your movements come to a halt.

“Relax, pretty boy, you’ll get to cum soon enough,” he assures you. You feel his leaking tip kiss your entrance.

“Wait Mig… did you prep me enough or whatever?” You question him. He was big, you didn’t know if you could take him so soon.

“Yeah, I promise it won’t hurt, alright?” He tells you, pressing a soft kiss on your back.

“Alright,” you nod. He pushes past your tight entrance, slowly stretching you out. You both groan as he soon bottoms out. “S—so big.” You stammer, the feeling of his cock sitting inside you driving you crazy. Miguel waits on your cue for him to start moving. Finally, you pat his hand in approval.

He slowly pulls out of you, leaving just his tip before thrusting back into you. The strong snap of his hips sends a shudder up your spine. Miguel begins a slow pace of ramming his hips forward, the sound of skin slapping against each other follows each thrust. His tip hits your prostate harshly. “Faster, please,” you whine.

“But you were just whining about how I was too big,” he taunts you but compiles anyway. His hips snap back and forth quicker as his fingers dig into your hips. Your breathing grows heavier with every thrust of his hips. “You’re so tight.” He pants, kissing up and down your body. His cock roughly struck your walls, your body rippling forward every time. You feel tears well up in your eyes, shining on your lashes.

“Aw, don’t cry, pretty boy. Look how good you’re taking me,” Miguel hums, watching himself disappear into your ass and come back out. Whimpers force their way past your lips as he presses down on your back, forcing it to arch. You bury your head in your arms, embarrassing cries leaving you.

“Don’t hide from me. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” he grunts, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling your head out. “Let the neighbors hear how much of a slut you are.”

“Mhm Migs, stretching me out… so good,” your words only come out as breathy moans. And you weren’t lying. “S’too big.” You mumble, eyes shut tightly. The tightness in your stomach only builds up more. You wrap your hand around your own, under-stimulated dick. Pumping it in the rhythm of Miguel’s thrust.

“M’gonna cum,” you babbled, precum leaking onto the couch. The muscles in your legs shake as you chase your orgasm.

“Go ahead, cum on my dick like a good boy,” Miguel says through labored breath. White spots take over your vision as ropes of cum spurt onto the couch fabric. You let your head fall onto the couch while Miguel continues his rhythmic thrust. “Quit— ngh, quit clenching, gotta loosen up for me,” he softly groans. His hips now snapping in a slower, harder, and sloppier pattern. You let out a whine as his tip roughly kisses your prostate.

You lay there, mewling and moaning beneath him while he uses your body to chase his high. Soon overstimulation catches up to you. “Migs, I can’t—“

“Yes, you can. Hold out for me. I’m almost done, pretty boy,” he rasps. It doesn’t take long before you feel him fill you up. Strings of curses leave his lips as cum coats your insides. You whine when Miguel slowly pulls out, watching his seed drip from your hole. Suddenly Miguel flips you over onto your back, pushing himself back inside.

You groan at the feeling of him filling you and stretching you out again. “Miguel…” you murmured. He leans down kissing all over your neck, moving up your jawline until he reaches your ear.

—the first few have been more formal—interviewing you, introducing you to gabriella, and checking up on you with a phone call. it was limited, a thick barrier that miguel would put up between you and him because it was work—just work.

—even though he sent you off fairly quick, the interaction was long enough for him study you like he never did before. 

—he never realized how handsome you were, optimism practically seeping from your smile to your voice. it was a stark contrast to his moodiness, strained by the constant amount of stress put on by work, and furthermore by an ongoing divorce case.

—but he liked you, more than he’d like to admit.

—miguel liked the way you would tuck your shirt into your pants. a younger version of him would’ve labelled you a nerd, church boy even.

—but he found it attractive when the fabric laid on your chest with the right amount of tightness—a slightest exposure that would have him staring for an embarrassing amount of time.

—he also found it attractive when the peak of summer closed in on you.

—one day, you would show up at his doorstep in shorts.

—you preferred walking. 

—no wonder you were so radiant to him, you practically soaked in the sun every day before you two would meet.

—sorry if i look like a mess, sir- i look gross, don’t i?

—that feeling in him returned again, churned like butter as he would watch the sweat calmly roll down your aching legs.

—i’d be lying if i told you no, wouldn’t i?

—you were a mess, miguel would go on to agree to himself. not because of the way your hair sparkled in the sun as it latched onto sweat—but because of the way you were completely oblivious to how you made him feel.

—it only grew stronger with subsequent meetings.

—you can use my shower, you know. it’s gotta be uncomfortable to be sweaty in those clothes for—what—eight hours?

—no, no! I’m fine, sir. i don’t think it would be right of me to-

—well, just throwing it out there in case you needed to. 

—next time, then!

—and the next time, you would carry an extra bag of clothes because you and miguel both knew the outcome.

—it was a proud moment when miguel could smell his body wash on you when you left that night.

—sure, he probably bought the most generic brand he could find. but he has never smelt that scent on you before, so it inflated his ego to know that you’d be walking home in his usual scent.

—sleeping in his scent.

—like every other night, a shower would mark the end of miguel’s day. it was his favorite pastime—all thoughts were left behind as soon as he stepped under the shower head, letting the warm spray of water wash him of stress.

—when he stepped out, something caught his eye in the corner of the tiled floor—something blue.

—your briefs. 

—you forgot to take your briefs with you because you were rushing when you heard gabriella suddenly cry.

—it would’ve been off-putting by anyone else, but this was you.

—this was your briefs, miguel would then hold up like a trophy. a piece of fabric that would contain and cover you—touch your most vulnerable parts.

—with the current feelings miguel had for you, it would’ve been a missed opportunity if he simply threw it in the washer.

—so, he doesn’t.

—11 am. where miguel would usually find himself sleeping by this hour—he was inhaling the scent of your musk instead, scrunching your sweat-stained briefs to his face as he jerked off in bed.

—in all honestly, he was ashamed to admit that he loved the smell of your sweat.

—but miguel would nonetheless take deep whiffs, desperate to smell you in your most vulnerable state.

—and he comes at the very last second when he can.

—it wasn’t enough for him though, so miguel doesn’t waste a single second to jerk himself off again—his cum lubing his sensitive cock up with a generous amount of stickiness and slick.

—good morning, sir!

—(m/n), i thought i said that you can call miguel?

—oh… right! sorry, that completely slipped my mind. i must’ve forgotten.

—never stop forgetting, miguel muttered to himself, fucking his heavy cock into  the depth of your briefs.

—he loved the way you called him sir. it made him feel authoriative and only fueled his want and need to protect you—you and your weak body. 

—you’d be powerless if something were to happen to you, and the chances of that happening were well in your wits since you continued to insist on walking home.

—unbeknownst to you, every night miguel would follow you in the shadows—an undisclosed bodyguard of some sort—until you reached home.

—even then, he wasn’t fully relaxed because most crimes always took place domestically.

—he would watch you from below, through your window, for quite some time, making sure your parents’ house was a danger-free zone. 

—and it wasn’t until you took your pants off and began stroking yourself through those same blue briefs, that he was finally at peace. 

—fuck... miguel stopped fucking into your briefs to take another whiff of the fabric until his nostrils stung—a mixture of you and him together now. 

—the fabric clung around miguel’s cock as his thick cum was the only glue that pieced him and the presence of you together. 

—he would think back to how you would suck on two of your fingers as you stroked yourself to nothing but lewd thoughts—your eyes tightly closed to visualize your perverted mind into reality. 

—what are you thinking about? who are you thinking about? is it me? are you thinking about my cock?

—the air in his bedroom has gotten heavier, thick with sex as he sweated under the cloud of you fingering yourself with the clumsiest yet neediest precision.

—he spat on his to slick it up again—because he could go on for hours—replaying back to the night where he watched you completely juxtapose with the innocent image he had of you prior.

—your hips were lifted up, legs awkwardly bent back as you dug into yourself, working your hole open deeper with one, then two, then three fingers because—miguel was right. like a spell, you were thinking of him and his cock.

—he had to be big, you were so sure of it. the fact that you strained your neck from looking up at him was a telling sign that he was, as ignorant as that was.

—and you were practically drooling at the thought of his cock stuffing you with the most fulfilling amount of pain and pleasure.

—you’d want him to be ruthless with you and show no mercy as he couldn’t care less about the way you whimpered and cried out for him to stop.

—fucking you from behind as his strong arms held you in a headlock, applying pressure that would frighten a choke out of you.

—because you were nothing but his fuck toy.

—it was all overwhelming for miguel on that night, almost too good to be true and he had to squeeze his cock through his sweats to make sure this was reality.

—you would confirm that it was, with the image of you coming all over your chest and stomach, all to the pathetic plunging of your fingers.

—and miguel does too, coming powerfully, to the point of shudders running down his broad back, into a part of your briefs where it would hold your own dick because he wants his smell to be imprinted on you, inked deep into your flesh.

—until you smelled like his.

“You’re being childish Miguel. He’s a kid, you shouldn’t be so hard on him.” You scold, your condescending tone makes Miguel’s head hurt.

“He’s a mistake! He was never meant to be a Spiderman, and now, he’s gotten away.” He yells, baring his teeth as his fangs show.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick, he wouldn’t have ran!” You press, looking at him with those critical eyes.

“I’m doing my job! Maybe you should do yours! I doubt that calling your boss ‘a dick’ is helpful! Pendajo…” he says the last part under his breathe, his hands on his hips as his feet pick up the pace.

That was just one event, during meetings, ‘friendly’ conversations, stake outs, everything. You both just had to fight. Until Miguel had an epiphany of some kind. It was ridiculous, of course.

In the middle of another one of your fights, Miguel starting jabbing at your chest with one finger, and he let out a sentence that changes the entire mood.

“Why are you always dead-set on pissing me off? What? Do you want my attention that bad? Are you in love with me or something?!!!” The both of you froze, Miguel was even shocked at the words that came out of his mouth.

“H-huh?” You couldn’t even muster words, your face went red, and so did his, both of you just standing in a slightly horny silence. “I don’t. That’s stupid.” Your face is blushing like a tomato, and your tone isn’t convincing at all.

“Y-yes you do! You love me! Just admit it!” He yells back at you, his voice booming with embarrassment.

You scoff. “Well why do you want me to love you so bad! Are you in love with me?” You scream back at him, silence setting in again.

“…” Neither of you look at each other, instead stealing glances when you think the other isn’t looking, blushing when you inevitably make eye contact.

“W-well… one of us definitely loves the other. And it’s not me, s-so it’s you!” You yell at him, your face flushed.

“And how the hell do you suppose that!” He screams back, his fangs protruding from his mouth.

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, just a small squeak and you quickly close it. “…Then let’s do a test to see who loves who.” You say after a minute of silence. Miguel freezes, and so do you.

“…What would determine that?” He says, his voice cracking a little.

“…” You stay silent for a little longer, debating on whether or not you should share your great idea. “We could have, s-sex.” His eyes widen as yours look away, too embarrassed to see his reaction.

“T-that sounds… reasonable.” You look at him and now he looks away, the both of you blushing and angry. And now the both of you were awkwardly standing in the bedroom of his apartment, quickly taking of your clothes.

“I can’t believe you’re hard already! You must like me a lot, huh?” You jeer, knowing that you’re already twice as horny as he is. Oh shit, maybe you do like him.

“Cállete. This was your idea, maybe you only suggested that we have sex because you love me.”

Your eyes widen as you start to get defensive. “As if! You’re so difficult! And your voice gives me a headache! And-“

“I said shut up!” Miguel throws you onto the bed, and you yelp at the force. “Do I have to prep you?” He huffs, but you’re plenty soft, all you need is lube.

“…do you have lube?” He scoffs and lifts up your legs, revealing your eager hole to him. He spits on it, shoving a finger in it making you suck in a breathe and squeal.

“Good enough.” He brings your hips down and places the tip of his cock against it, pushing in slightly, moaning as your soft hole welcomes him. “Such a slutty pussy, and you say you don’t love me.” He groans as he pushes further inside of you, both of you moaning from the stretch.

Tears brim your eyes but you wipe them away, refusing to cry at the pleasure filling you. “Hah! You call this a cock? Y-you and your dick, are pathetic!” You spit out, your words laced with moans once you feel him bottom out.

“You’re the one getting impaled on this pathetic cock!” He roars and you can see saliva dripping from his mouth as he slams his cock into your hole. “Ay, fucking puta! Can’t help but clench around me!” His eyes are red and half lidded, his cheeks even redder.

You’re about to cum, and so is he, so you clench around him even harder, he was going to cum first. You were going to make him. Miguel had the same thought, he thrusts even faster, hitting all the spots you like as your toes curl and your insides spasm from pleasure. Both of your faces are red and sweaty, panting and moaning from over stimulation as you both cum, unfortunately, in unison. His load fills your insides to the brim, while you cum right on your stomach, covering yourself in white.

“Y-you… you definitely c-came first.” You stutter out, refusing to believe that Miguel could have possibly won.

“I think that’s a tie…” He says gruffly, panting and scowling as he tightens his already vice-like grip on your leg. “Guess this is a tie breaker.” He begins to thrust into you again, but you were far from ready.

Miguel thrusts into you, not hiding his anger. And neither are you, refusing to lose at whatever his ridiculous game was. You thrusted your hips into his, fucking yourself even harder on his cock, tightening as he batters your prostate with his stupidly huge cock. It’s thick and veiny, and it feels perfect inside of you, but you’ll never admit that.

“Do you seriously, think I’m going to cum… from that! Just cause you, got a big dick, doesn’t mean that you’re, good in bed!” You say between breathless moans, glaring at him while his cock slides in and out of you at a brutal pace, hammering your deepest parts until your vision goes white and you cum again. You lost, but neither of you think about that. Too focused on the sex to care anymore.

“You really, expect me to believe that, when you’re gaping around me like a whore?!” He yells, clearly trying to keep his moans under control while your insides flutter pleasurably around his length. He squeezes your legs, his claws digging into your calf as he thrusts harder, causing you to yell and moan from the over stimulation. You bounce into him harder, rolls your ass against his hips defiantly.

“Really? At least I’m a whore- you’re just a, a human dildo!” You choke and sputter, crying as you feel another orgasm wash through you, this time a clear liquid squirting out of your dick like a fountain. Miguel gnashes his teeth and thrusts into you even harder, and you can feel him fill you insides with another load. He groans as he twitches inside of you, visibly shaking as you keep rocking your hips into his, tightening your insides around his sensitive cock.

“Stop that! Puta dammit!” He digs his claws into your leg even harder before biting it harshly, pumping your leg full of his venom. “That should make you sit still, whore.” He spat out, glaring at the slight fear filling your face as you go slack in his arms. He keeps thrusting into you, his cum squelching out of your hole with every thrust, pushing it deeper inside of you until your stomach aches.

Miguel pulled back from the kiss with a sigh, his warm breath fanning against your face. “We’ll finish this later,” Miguel said, running a hand down the front of his suit when he stepped away. 

You couldn’t help but let out a noise of frustration. It had been a while since you had been physical with Miguel, and lately, it felt like the most action you had gotten was when you two sparred during training. 

You weren’t angry at Miguel, but you were finding it difficult to hide your frustration. The boners could also be quite difficult to hide too. Lately, it has only taken a few kisses and Miguel’s roaming hands for your cock to grow hard, so you always needed to make sure that spot was covered. 

“I know,” Miguel cooed before touching your cheek. His thumb ran along your bottom lip slowly, as if he was reminiscing on the seconds that just passed. “Later,” Miguel whispers before pulling his hand away. 

“Sir,” one of Miguel’s men said as he stepped into the room. The man all but ignored your presence as he give Miguel the stack of papers he was holding. You were grateful, grateful for your spider-sense that alerted you of his presence, and grateful that the man didn’t question why you slinked past him, one hand covering your crotch.   

-

It was a few weeks later before something substantial happened. Before then, it was the same quick kisses and hurried touches. At one point, you nearly thought you would finally find the release you craved when you woke up one morning to the feeling of Miguel’s erection against your ass, but you were only left hard and aching. 

When the time came, your first clue of knowing what was about to come was the energy Miguel brought into the room with him. When he burst into your bedroom, you could see the look in his eye was filled with excitement. 

“Good. You’re already undressed,” Miguel said lowly, almost like he was speaking to himself. 

“What?” You asked, letting out a breathy chuckle. 

It was early. Miguel had already left a few hours ago to start on the tasks he needed to do to keep the society he worked so hard to build up and running. You had just started pulling on your suit, only one leg in. 

The rest of your suit hung awkwardly from your naked body when Miguel pushed you face-first down into the bed. 

After letting out a grunt at the impact, your mouth hung open, but the words died on your lips when one of Miguel’s fingers traced your hole. 

“I just need a few minutes,” Miguel murmured, using his other hand to spread your cheeks. Something other than his fingers dug into the skin of your ass. It felt small and warm, already heated from the skin of Miguel’s palm. 

You nodded slowly, panting into the covers you had just made up. Your cock gave a twitch when Miguel stepped away and you heard the sound of the bedside drawer open. You knew exactly what he grabbed, and in only a few minutes, Miguel’s finger was back, this time coated in lube. 

Miguel’s fingers were already big, but after some time away, they felt even bigger. That’s why when Miguel was rushing to put a second finger inside, you couldn’t help but let out a groan of pleasure and pain. 

At the end of the sound, you felt Miguel’s lips at the back of your neck, trying to soothe the discomfort. He kissed a path to your ear before tracing his tongue up the shell. “This will help,” he whispered into your ear. 

You whimpered when Miguel pulled his fingers free. Your body tensed up, knowing that what you were about to get was even bigger. Or that’s what you expected. 

The device Miguel worked inside you was as thick as his two fingers. He pushed it until you felt the curved base on the outside of your hole. It was almost right on your prostate, rubbing just enough when you shifted that you could feel small sparks of pleasure. 

Miguel panted wetly against the back of your neck, and when you pushed your ass back into his solid weight behind you, trying to get the device right up against your prostate, he let out a groan. You could feel the weight of his cock trapped in his suit up against your ass, but when you tried to grind back into it again, Miguel flipped you over before he moved away. 

With slow movements, ones that you guessed were not to jostle the device, Miguel pulled you up from the bed and began pulling the rest of your suit on. You could feel his intense gaze roam over the parts of your body that were still naked. When his eyes landed on your half-hard cock when he got your other leg into your suit, they lingered, taking in the sight slowly. 

When Miguel dragged his eyes away and up to your face, you met his heated gaze with one of your own. There had already been many times the two of you had pulled your suits off to be closer to one another, so to be in a moment where Miguel was putting your suit on felt odd. 

“Later?” You asked once you were fully dressed. 

Something flashed across Miguel’s eyes before he shook his head. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion, but before you could question him, a low thrum of pleasure washed over you. 

Miguel held up a small remote, the color the same as the device currently vibrating inside you. 

“A vibrator,” you hissed, “are you trying to torture me?” You questioned. 

Miguel kissed away the pout that had appeared on your face, and pulled back with a smirk. “I told you, this is only to help you,” he answered before moving in for another kiss. 

Miguel left soon after that, looking how he always did when you saw him around the Spider Society: calm and collected but with that permanent scowl of his. 

It pissed you off. And the fact that you were pissed off only made you even more pissed off. It was the opposite of what a man with a vibrator brushing his prostate with every other step should feel, all things considered. 

You already had too many things to focus on throughout the day, so having to worry about others not seeing your half-chub all day was just a bonus. Your enhanced senses were on fire trying to anticipate when the vibrator would next come on. 

It helped to focus on other things, and when your mind wandered to a different topic, you could feel yourself start to relax. It only lasted a moment, given that what your mind was thinking about was how far of a range the remote had, which only had your mind looping back to what you were trying to avoid. 

The next time you see Miguel is when you’re in the cafeteria. There was an empty table calling your name, the perfect place to try and keep to yourself. You were only given a little while to yourself before Miguel made his presence known. 

When you felt that familiar feeling run through your body, your head snapped up from the plate your eyes were on, trying to pinpoint where Miguel was. You saw him walking to go get in line to get his plate of food, his expression stoic. 

You forced your eyes away, but not before they ran down his body and landed on his hand where you could see the remote peaking out between his fingers. 

You quickly tried to calm yourself by taking a sip of water, thinking that the cold liquid would help cool the warmth in your stomach. You were only able to take a few sips before the vibrations intensified, the last gulp choking you as you tried to drink as quickly as you could.

You slammed the glass down with a loud clatter as a coughing fit wracked your body. If you were trying to not draw attention, well you ended up doing the opposite. When you opened your eyes after your coughs subsided, sever spider-people looked at you in concern. Even Miguel’s eyes were on you, his calm expression broken as worry flashed through his eyes. 

You let out one last awkward cough, “I’m okay,” you said to the onlookers, sending a shaky smile in their direction. Your smile fell to a glare when your eyes landed on Miguel. You were just thankful that in the small moment of chaos, he turned the vibrations off.

You kept your eyes on him as you got up and left what you had on the table. You kept your glare until Miguel was the one who pulled his eyes away. Though you were annoyed, you couldn’t ignore the remnant of pleasure the device inside you had brought. 

The pleasure was easier to ignore as the day went on. There would be little spikes throughout the day when you would shift or move a particular way, but it was easier when the device was off. 

Miguel made it harder to ignore when you saw him again. Unlike seeing him in the cafeteria, the next time you saw him was set on your schedule. It was supposed to be a normal meeting with Miguel and the other people that had joined you on your last mission, but knowing that you had a vibrator deep inside you made going into the meeting nerve wracking. 

The moment you’ve sat down and relaxed, thinking that the meeting was going to go off without a hitch, you can feel the vibrations start up again. It’s higher in intensity than what you felt earlier, a feeling that quickly has your cock fattening up.

You shift around, trying to keep the vibrations off your prostate, but your attempt does the opposite. When the vibrations rub right up against your prostate, you have to cover your moan with a cough.  

The sound doesn’t draw the attention away from Miguel who stands at the front of the room. Covering up the noise was the least of your worries as you can feel another bubbling up under the surface. 

You let out a whimper, trying to keep the noise as quiet as you can. However, what pulls the attention your way was not the noise, but your movements as you try to shift the vibrations out of place. 

“He makes me a little nervous too,” Peter whispers from beside you. 

You glanced over, taking in Peter’s pink bathrobe. You knew it annoyed Miguel how Peter dressed, and you also knew how Peter knew it annoyed Miguel which is why he kept doing it. 

“You do a good job at-” you bring a hand down onto the table in front of you to grip the edge as the intensity goes up, “hiding it,” you finish, biting your lip harshly. 

“You okay?” Peter asks slowly, looking you over with concern.

“Stubbed my toe,” you flash Peter a shaky smile, “I just hate these tables,” you respond, bringing your other hand down to hit the table softly.  

You look away from Peter, not even waiting to hear his response. You’re too busy looking at Miguel, hoping he’ll see the look of desperation that’s settled over your face. 

Miguel leaves the vibrator on the same setting throughout the rest of the meeting, and by the time it’s over your cock is leaking into the confines of your suit. 

You jump when you feel a hand come down on your shoulder, “I hope your toe gets better,” Peter says, “I would watch out for the chairs too if I were you,” he finishes, leaving after sending you a smile and a pat to your shoulder.

The sound of the door closing is loud in your ears. Now alone in the room with Miguel, you watch as he steps up to when you’re sitting slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. 

You pull yourself from the chair and walk around the edge as Miguel takes his last few steps before he pulls you in with a hand at the back of your neck. 

The kiss on your end is messy and desperate. Miguel, the smug bastard, chuckles at your desperation. At the sound, you push your tongue into his mouth, running the tip over his sharp fangs before delving deeper.  

Your shaky hands find purchase in Miguel’s dark hair, pulling at the strands of hair, trying to show him how frustrated you’ve been. 

One of Miguel’s hands moves to wrap around your hips, the other goes to your ass to grip at the flesh tightly. He feels warm and solid, the presence you’ve been craving all day. 

“Miguel,” you whine against his mouth when he pulls away. 

Miguel stays close, grinding his hips forward, showing, that at least physically, he’s just as desperate as you are. “Here?” He asks, bringing his hips forward again. 

You didn’t know a table could feel so comfortable as you lay yourself out over it. Well, it wasn’t that comfortable, but you do anything and do it anywhere if Miguel was giving you the release you yearned for.   

Miguel grabbed your hips to lift the rest of your body onto the table. Unlike earlier in the day, Miguel pulled your suit off quickly. His hands traced down the warmth of your body as more of your skin was revealed to him. 

Your legs hand off the edge of the table, creating the perfect space for Miguel to make his way into. His fingers ignore your hard cock, instead going to pull the vibrator out slowly. It’s almost comical the way it vibrates in Miguel’s hand. 

Miguel tossed the vibrator away, pulling a small laugh from your mouth as it falls onto the floor. You couldn’t hear if the buzzing was loud enough to hear on the floor, your attention back on Miguel. 

The vibrator wasn’t very big, but it still left you feeling open and ready to be filled. Having to wait for so long has you shaking when Miguel leans down to press his lips to yours. With his hands on your hips, Miguel pulls your body down the table just enough that he can comfortably make his way down your body with his lips and then down onto his knees. 

When you open your eyes once the kiss is over, you can see that Miguel’s suit is gone. The sight makes your hands twitch, and you dig your fingers into the edge of either side of the table to keep from reaching out.

“Such a pretty cock, baby,” Miguel breathes when he’s up close and personal with your cock. He sucks at the head, just enough to lick up the salty liquid steadily leaking. He pulls off to move down to your balls to suck one of them into his mouth, “and these, so full for me,” he says after he’s let go of the first and moved to the second. 

Miguel is panting by the time he fully pulls away and rises back up onto his knees. He swoops down to press his lips to yours in a wet kiss. You both moan when your tongues meet and the salty flavor hits your tongue. 

Miguel pulls back when you feel the slick head of his cock at your hole. 

“Where did you get-” you start to ask, but Miguel cuts you off with another kiss. 

“Do you really want to know or do you want me to fuck you?” Miguel asks after he pulled away. 

Not liking the smug smirk he’s sending your way, you wrap your legs around his waist so you can pull the head of his cock in your hole. Miguel's smirk falls as his mouth hangs open as he moves his hips forward, sinking further and further inside. 

Though the vibrator brought you the pleasure that you craved, it wasn’t enough preparation for his cock. It burned, causing a steady ache as he pushed inside. However, it didn’t take long for that feeling to be taken over by pleasure when Miguel pulled out so he could thrust back inside.

Miguel set up a brutal pace, knowing how badly you both needed it. 

It took a few minutes for your body to adjust, but soon you were pushing your hips back into his thrusts, trying to get his cock back inside the second Miguel pulled out. 

You each let out loud moans that echoed throughout the room. You knew it was just the two of you in the room, but you hoped there was no one outside the door to the room you were in with how loud you both were being. 

You were almost annoyed when the feeling of your orgasm quickly approached. It was a long time coming since your last orgasm with Miguel, so you knew what you needed, but you weren’t quite sure if you were ready to be brought over the edge. 

It burned through your body, hitting you like a truck as you came in white messy spurts over your stomach. Your back arched off the table, your eyes falling closed as sparks of ecstasy danced behind your eyelids. 

Miguel came soon after, the grip he had on your hips tightened, the claws in his nails digging into your skin as he lost control. You felt the pinpricks of pain on the skin of your hips, but you were too focused on opening your eyes to watch Miguel come. 

The cock inside you stilled as Miguel filled you up with his wetness. You wanted Miguel to stay inside and not let his cum leak out, but you welcomed Miguel wholeheartedly into your arms as he collapsed on top of you. 

You ran your fingers through the sweaty strands of hair at Miguel’s nape as you came down from your orgasm. 

Miguel kissed whatever area of skin he could find. He let out a huff after pressing one last kiss to your heated skin, “we should probably go back to our room.”

"Miguel!" The name of the futuristic Spider-Man rolls off your tongue in a dance that tips between being a moan and a breathless gasp. But why does it matter when it conveys the sensitivity you feel when his tongue dips inside your hole, his rough fingers pulling the cheeks of your ass apart to get to his sweet reward? Why does it matter when you clutch the pillow closer to you, eyes fluttering as whatever sounds you make become muffled by the object?

Miguel responds with a low sound, something that rumbles deep in his chest, a content expression on his face as his tastebuds explodes with the taste of you. There's an ache in his jaw that already builds, but Miguel's Spider-Man; he's dealt with worse things, he's not going to let a little ache stop him from devouring you.

So he does. Through your pretty sounds—of which one might accuse Miguel of being biased, to which he would respond by throwing them off the top of a skyscraper—Miguel licks away at the tightness of your hole, loosens you up. Spit dribbles from your fluttering hole, the coarse hair that surrounds the winking jewel slick with his spit, the skin stretched taut from how Miguel has you spread.

"Taste s' good," Miguel murmurs, voice low in the way that has you trembling and shuddering, a delicious shiver down your spine that Miguel catches with gleaming eyes. "Absolutely delicious."

You moan a little. You're panting and you feel hot, burning away in the best way possible. You turn your head to glance down at him, swallowing at the sight of his face practically buried within your ass, nose sitting on the small of your ass. He meets your eyes and doesn't stop, spreads you just a bit more and stares you down as his tongue all but plunges deep within your hole, as if he's trying to make you cum by his tongue alone.

It's not enough, but it gets you to moan, biting your lip and body flushing, a glob of pre dribbling from the tip of your cockhead from where it lays, pinned to the sheets by your belly. You clutch the pillow and spread your legs just a little bit more, hips jerking as you grind back on his tongue. Miguel lets you, and joins you when you moan, shuddering and curling your toes as his tongue prods at your sweet spot.

"Yeah?" You stutter out, licking your bottom lip, watching Miguel chase the action with gleaming eyes, his pupils blown and making your heart pick up. "You like how I taste, Miggy? Am I delicious?"

Miguel moans, the sound vibrating and making you shudder. Miguel licks a flat stripe up your hole before pulling away to respond. Slick coats his chin; he's panting and all he can taste is you, thick and heavy on his tongue, mouth watering.

"Absolutely delicious." Miguel repeats as a smug smirk tugs onto his face. It distinctly reminds you of a cat who got the cream, and you roll your eyes. You look away and nuzzle your face into the pillow. It's Miguel's, you realize, the stale scent of his musk and even staler scent of his cologne clogging your nostrils. You give a little jerk and a muffled gasp when you feel something cool drizzle onto your hole.

Lost in your thoughts and in Miguel's scent, you didn't hear the rustling of the sheets nor the sound of the bottle of lube opening, only ever feeling the cool drizzle. When you look up, Miguel's mischievous and smug expression makes you give him a glare. It lacks any heat.

"Glitch." You sneer his way, and Miguel gives a small laugh. One of his fangs snag on his lower lip, and he looks a little stupid; it makes your heart flutter. You look away just as he subconsciously unsnags his tooth, resting your head on the pillow as his hand—large, calloused, and shocking warm—spreads you open, giving him easier access to your hole that subconsciously flutters from the feeling of the slick, sticky liquid dribbling over it.

"We're almost out of lube." Miguel idly comments as he caps the bottle and throws it to the side. His eyes glimmers as he took a moment to ogle at the side of the lubricant coating your hole, before he slipped a finger in, barely meeting any resistance.

Your breath stutters at the intrusion; how it slipped inside, so slick, shock, how it felt.

"Mm, do we?" You sigh out, squeezing around his finger before relaxing. "LYLA, mind ordering a new bottle?"

Miguel blinks. His eyebrows furrow a little. "Don't call her—"

The AI in question appears in a warm twinkle, forgoing her usual outfit in favor of a robe and a face mask. It makes you give a little smile, both amused at the AI's antics and at your husband's disgruntlement.

"Do you want the same bottle?" LYLA asks with a smug smirk, amused at Miguel's embarrassment. "Eight ounces for nine dollars—not including tax— ooh, wait. There's a sale for a thirty-three ounce botte for twenty five dollars if you buy two."

A little panel pops up with the two options, and you glance over at them, lazily eyeing them. Miguel frowns, but doesn't stop working you open with his fingers, two fingers flexing. A brush against your prostate has you sighing, content and feeling like a lazy, overstuffed cat.

"Why would we need two? That's too much lube." Miguel says and you and LYLA share a look that doesn't go unnoticed. "What?"

"That's a dumb thing to say." You say, amused. Miguel narrows his eyes. He opens his mouth but LYLA beats him to it with a thickly amused voice.

"How many times are you pawing at [Name]?" LYLA says, egging him on as her form glitches. "How many times are you on him? How many times do you have to resort to using your own saliva because you don't have lube?"

Miguel's silence and embarrassed look has you turning your head to muffle your laughter. Heat blooms to Miguel's ear tips and across his face, lips pulling into his signature scowl, not meeting the artificial eyes of the twinkling hologram hovering near his shoulder.

LYLA looks equally smug and amused, also looking like the cat who got the cream. After a moment of getting yourself together, you finally turn your attention back to them.

"Just get the two bottles. It's a better deal. Besides, go big or go home, right?" You say, teasing as you moved your hips, the action getting Miguel's attention. The man rolls his eyes, but his scowl melts into a small smile, finally adding another finger. It's a slight burn that makes you shudder and sigh, lips curling into a lazily pleased smile.

"Right. Go big." Miguel repeats, and LYLA rolls her eyes but takes it as her cue to whizz away. He still has a large hand spreading you open, fingers working you loose. He leans forward and drapes his larger form over your body, all hard muscles and soft fat feeling nice and warm, the feeling of his thick, fuzzy hair brushing against your skin.

He's warm and feels nice. His scent curls around you as he nuzzles his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder, breathing your scent. It makes him dizzy and feel light headed.

"You feel good?" He asks. His voice is low and it rumbles deep within his chest, makes you shiver in a good way. His fingers—large and thick—only add to the feeling.

"Mhm," You hum, inhaling before slowly exhaling. "Feels good. Would feel even better if you picked up the pace."

You smile when Miguel gives a quiet scoff, feel the hand spreading you open grip just a little bit tighter and his fingers curl just a little bit harder.

"I think you just need to be a little more patient." Miguel huffs, lacking any heat, feeling the telltale sign of a smile brush against your back. You give a little chuckle.

"That's funny coming from you." You say, sniggering when Miguel groans and pulls away.

"I think you should be a little nicer to me considering my fingers are in your ass, and, y'know, I'm going to fuck you?" Miguel replies, and you can't stop the heavy amusement that curls into your chest at the amount of sass coating his words.

"You're right, you're right." You say, unable to hide your amusement. You nudge him away and he gets the memo—clever idiot—and pulls his fingers away. It makes you feel empty for a moment, but the comfort of knowing his dick will soon fill it has the feeling running away.

You turn yourself around with a huff, now laying on your back. Your head is propped on the mountain of pillows—which is just five pillows, really, two for each one and a single pillow you trade from day to day. You lay content on the bed, spreading your nude body.

Miguel is watching you like a hawk, pupils blown. His eyes trail over your body, over your chest and stomach and your weeping cock and thighs and legs. It makes you feel warm, but in a shocking good way. When Miguel looks up and catches your eyes, you grin.

"Thoughts?" You ask, and watch him thickly swallow. It makes your heart swell to know that just your body alone has him nervous.

"You look good." Miguel says, flustered and embarrassed, but unable to look away as his eyes glance down to your body once more. It still boggles his mind on how he got so lucky with you. How you stuck with him despite the packages of trauma and issues he has, how you stuck with him despite every single flaw he has. You could've done so much better and yet-

"Hey."

Your voice snaps him out of his thoughts before it gets too dark. His eyes snap to your face, meets your eyes, and they're soft. Soft, warm, and dark with heavy affection—affection that's reserved for him. It makes him weak.

"You alright?" You ask, and your voice silences any nasty voice in his head, chases away the monsters that follow him. Miguel feels something warm settle in his core. It's a feeling he doesn't feel very often, at least not before he met you.

Safety. Affection.

Love.

"Yeah," Miguel replies, breathless as he gathered himself. His hands slide to your thighs and grips them—not harshly, just to hold them, feel the muscles flex and soft flesh squeeze. "Just... thinking."

You raise an eyebrow, a silent question if he wants to talk. Miguel slowly blinks, like how cats do. God, he's never beating the cat allegations, is he?

"I love you." Miguel says, and watches how your eyes practically light up. You giggle, heat rushing to your face, and Miguel gives a little scoff even as his own face lights up.

"Well aren't you a sweetie?" You say, teasing but in an affectionate way. You spread your legs and let Miguel slot between them, let him cast his body over yours, arm resting beside you and caging you in. Your hands runs from his back—running over the hardened muscles that flex—and into his hair, over the soft strands. You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, smiling, even as he gives a low sound of approval.

"I love you, too." You say, pressing a kiss to his jawline and actively avoiding his lips. Miguel hums, eyes fluttering shut in content as you pepper kisses along his face. One hand in particular slithers down, tracing over the coarse hair on his torso and over the soft flesh hiding hard muscles, and down to his cock.

"Shock!" Miguel moans; it's sharp and breathless, unexpected as his eyes snap open, eyes wide. You give him a teasing smile, hand wrapping around his girthy cock and slowly rubbing his head. You trace the angry vein running along the length, scooping up the pre that dribbles out and using it as lubricant as you lightly jerked him off.

"[Name]...!" Miguel groans, biting his lower lip as he shudders, back arching. His hips jerks as he tries to restrain himself, foreskin riding over his cockhead with every pump of his cock. A low moan escapes his mouth when your finger circles his cockhead and your thumb slides along the slit to scoop at his cum.

He watches with blown eyes as you pop your finger into your mouth, eyes glittering as you made a show of swallowing it. You gave him a smug smile and Miguel moans, jerking his cock into your fist.

"Please, please, please let me fuck you." Miguel groans, pleads, panting already as you slowly pumped. You hum before pressing a kiss to his jaw once more, grinning viciously, releasing his cock.

"C'mon then, fill me up." You hum, teasing but also serious. Miguel quietly groans underneath his breath, shuffling back to grasp at his own cock. He pumps his cock, foreskin rolling over his cockhead with each motion as pre dribbled out like a teardrop. You watch with dark, needy eyes, your own cock twitching over your belly, pre pooling.

Miguel is breathing heavily when he grabs your hip and lines himself up. Your hole is loose and wet with both his spit and lube, eagerly awaiting his cock. He swallows and takes a deep breath, eyes glancing up to watch your face as he slips in.

Your eyes are locked below, biting your lip as his cockhead prods at your hole. It's big and girthy, and despite him opening you up with both his fingers and tongue, there's always a resistance. But eventually, as always, it gives in and his cockhead buries itself in your hole. It leaves both you and Miguel breathless; the burn is pleasant and makes you lightly shake, cock weeping. Miguel has to restrain himself from pushing it all the way in, tightening his head on your waist.

"Shock." Is all you can say after a moment, panting as your eyes fluttered pleasantly. You groaned underneath your breath, squirming on the bed to feel more comfortable. Miguel lets you and fixes himself after you've settled down. He grabs a leg and raises it so it sits on his shoulder; the new position gives him a better angle, makes it easier to slip in and bump into all the good spots.

Speaking of which...

"You can move now, Miggy," You say with a quirk of your lips, watching him with dilated pupils. Miguel grunts underneath his breath and takes precaution as he tightens his hold on both your leg and his cock, and pushes in.

You take a deep breath as you feel his cock slide in, inch by inch, stretching your hole around his girth. One particular movement has his cockhead planting a firmly kiss against your prostrate, and it makes you give a deep, guttural moan. Your fingers clutch at the bedsheets and you toes curl, makes you squeeze around Miguel's cock.

And that has Miguel hunching over, a breathless whimper falling from his lips as he slammed the last few inches in. It makes you groan a curse, back arching and clenching around Miguel, cocks weeping.

"Holy shock," You breath out, tingling all over and feeling like you're on cloud nine. Instinctively, your hand lands on your belly and right over the small bump. Miguel's eyes fall on the bump, an all too familiar sight whenever you both decide to screw around, and an even more familiar possessive and smug sight gleams in his eyes.

"Might as well have teared me in half, Migs..." You mutter, still breathless as your heart pounds against your chest. Not the first nor the last time, his cock throbs inside your hole, and he gives a little nudge of his hips that has his cockhead knocking against your prostrate.

"Shocking hell!" You groan, and Miguel simply grins. He leans down and lays an arm next to your face, releasing your leg as he laid his other arm next to it, too. He's caged you in and presses a kiss to your lips, one that lingers and turns into a make out session when you grip the back of his head.

Your moaning into each other's mouths when he begins to move, slow but deep thrusts that practically puncture your lungs. Each thrust is a kiss against your prostrate, has you pulling away and moaning.

Miguel stuffs his face within the juncture of your neck and shoulder, panting and groaning underneath his breath. Your gummy walls felt divine around his cock; squeezing him so tightly, as if refusing to let go of him with every thrust of his hips. They were warm and slick with lube, like an eternal warm cavern built solely for his cock.

You whimper into his mouth when his cockhead bumps against your prostate, toes curling. Your cock lays on your belly, weeping at the tip, a small pool of cum collecting on your belly. One of your arms curl around Miguel's neck, and you raise your head to press a kiss to his jaw.

"Feel s'good, baby," Miguel groans out, voice low timbered and rumbly. Sweat trickles down his head, hair slick with sweat and damp. His eyes are glazed over, gleaming with lust. He's still caging you in with his body alone, cock hammering into you. Each thrust bumps his cock against your prostate, and you moan.

"Yeah?" You breathe out, hot and panting. You feel like you're on cloud nine. The bump in your belly disappears and reappears with each thrust, and it makes you thickly swallow.

"Yeah," Miguel grunts out. He suddenly pulls away just to grab your legs and pin them to your chest. Your eyes widen at the action, and before you can make a comment or two, Miguel's fingers tighten around your legs as he suddenly picks up the pace.

"Miguel!" You squeal out, sharply gasping and breaking into a guttural moan when he begins to pummel into your hole. His thrusts are harsh and deep, borderline rough as if he's determined to give you the fucking of your life, as if his goal is to have you impregnated despite the lack of necessary genitalia. No matter, the thought has you moaning, eyes rolling back as you succumbed to your lust.

Miguel's no better, mouth hanging open as he panted, drool slowly dripping down his chin. His mind is fogged with you, you, you, the only thought being the need to breed you, to stuff you full of his cock until you're overflowing with his cum. Your walls are divine around his length, squeezing and tugging him, as if you don't want him to pull out.

Miguel moans, leaning down to stuff his face into the crook of your neck, kissing it. You moan, panting, and bare your throat for him. Miguel licks a flat stripe up your throat before closing his mouth around it and sucking on it. The moan that slips from your throat makes your throat vibrate in his mouth.

"Shock, Mi- Miguel!" You sobbed out, shaking hands coming up to curl into his hair and tug him up. Miguel lets go of your throat with a low growl, one that gets swallowed up when you press your lips against him.

It's messy, one with clinking teeth and wet tongues dancing around each other, spit dribbling down your respective chins. One particular thrust has you groaning into his mouth, one that gets higher when Miguel releases a leg to instead wrap his hand around your cock.

He pumps your length in time with his thrusts, long strokes that has you practically sobbing into his mouth. Your dance on the edge of an orgasm, pulling away from the kiss with a sharp gasp and a whiny moan, hips jerking into his palm. Miguel watches you with dark eyes, brimming with arousal and possessive affection, something in his chest warm at the thought that all of this was just for him and him alone.

Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, walls tightening around his cock, teetering on painful.

"Miguel, I'm gonna cum-" You sob out, the only warning you give him before you're curling your legs around his waist and digging your heel into him, forcibly digging his cock deeper just as your cock jumps in his hand and begins to squirt out cum. The sight, the feeling, everything has Miguel groaning your name, balls deep as his cock begins to throb inside of your hole, as he begins to cum.

You're not sure what happens after that. You figured you blacked out for a moment, only to wake up and come to your senses when you feel Miguel collapse on top of you.

Your body is pleasantly buzzing, aftershocks of your orgasm making you tingle. Miguel's laying on top of you, head buried in the crook of your neck and shoulder, panting and warm. Sweat pools on both your body, and it's overly warm, you feel like you might pass out again.

"LYLA, can you turn up the AC, please?" You call out, wincing at your croaky voice. The AI doesn't respond nor appear, but you both feel and hear the AC turn up a notch. "Thanks, girl."

Miguel begins to stir, low sounds escaping his mouth as he turns his head, still resting it on you. You greet him with a scratch to his head.

"Hey, Miggy, you okay?" You keep your voice low, exhaustion nipping at you, but the need to see how your husband feels over rides it for a moment.

Miguel makes a low sound again, eyes lazily fluttering. He looked tired but blissed out, content, with no dark thoughts to keep him from relaxing.

"I feel you, baby," You hum, stroking his head. You feel his soft cock still buried in your hole, plugging up his cock. Your cock lays buried beneath Miguel's body, and you swear you can feel your cum cooling up. You wince.

"Feel like taking a shower?" You ask him.

Miguel's quiet for a moment before he speaks. "No." His words are slurred and his voice is rumbly, croaky, content but tired.

You blink and give a quiet scoff of amusement. "What do you mean, no?"

"I feel too good to get up and shower. In the morning. Or later. What time is it?" You blink down at him, and softly snort, a fond smile curling on your face. Your arms curl around his neck, your other hand scratching at his scalp. Miguel presses into your hand like an oversized cat.

"Oh, Migs," You coo. "My ass was just too much for you, huh?" You sigh, fondly. " Okay, Miguel, we can shower when we wake up."

nightwing!gojo who’s still figuring out how to balance being a soon-to-be dad with being nightwing

nightwing!gojo who has many siblings (shoko,nanami,haibara,geto, and yuki) but he’s never even thought of changing a baby’s diaper!

nightwing!gojo who already had to deal with you being bratty while you weren’t even close to being pregnant, but now he has to deal with cravings, mood swings, and you being undeniably annoying

nightwing!gojo who thinks that sweet talking toward your stomach actually works and will spend all day talking to your stomach baby instead of sleeping

nightwing!gojo who doesn’t understand your cravings but still tries to his best to advocate for them

one time you had asked for toast with grapes and barbecue sauce, and best believe he was quick to get you some

nightwing!gojo who misses being able to fuck you rough and hard because he knows how much you like to be manhandled, but he also doesn’t want to risk your baby’s health

nightwing!gojo who instead eats you out more often. why have a long tongue if you aren’t gonna put it to good use?

he usually starts by just kitten licking but as time goes on he’s thrusting his meaty long tongue into your tight hole, slick dripping all onto the sheets and down his chin

“you taste so good, baby. stay still for me though.” gojo hums before returning to his abuse on your slick heat

“s-satoru! I can’t take it anymore.” you cry out already feeling yourself about to cum

“it’s okay baby i got you, just cum for me and we’ll be done, okay?”

and so you did, and you came hard

nightwing!gojo who obviously still helps blüdhaven out but he especially goes extra hard for all the kids who live there, now knowing how it feels since he has one of his own on the way

nightwing!gojo who always makes fun of you since your feet have grew along with your stomach. he calls you his favorite “penguin” but you just return him a glare everytime he’s ridiculously corny

nightwing!gojo who begins to finally put together your baby’s room, starting with the crib

you’d think he’d get done with it quickly since he has instructions and and electric drill, right?

wrong.

it takes him three hours and even then the crib felt extremely unstable

nightwing!gojo who luckily has his sibling redhood!geto help him out with setting up the room

after a week, the whole room was fully finished all the way to small toy decorations that went well together

nightwing!gojo who absolutely freaks out when you wake him up in the middle of the night crying about how your water broke

nightwing!gojo who rushes to grab your hospital bag and shoes and trying to make it to the car all while talking you through your contractions

nightwing!gojo who rambles off to the nurses while they lead the both of you and him to your hospital room

“I knew this was gonna happen eventfully, duh. but I never thought I’d be so unprepared!”

“gojo, shut up or get out!” you shout as another wave of contractions begin to flow through your body

“sorry baby!” he sheepishly apologizes before rushing back over to your side

nightwing!gojo who absolutely should’ve listened to the nurses when they told him not to allow you to hold onto his fingers while you give birth

“ow ow ow baby can you let up just a little?” gojo asks trying to slip his fingers from your grasp

“f-fuck you! this is the least you can do since you’re the one who’s putting me through all of this!”

nightwing!gojo who is so very happy when he finally hears the cries of your baby as your grip slowly releases from around his fingers

nightwing!gojo who almost laughs at the sight of your baby, seeing that your genes didn’t even attempt to fight back against his—your baby coming out as an exact copy of him

nightwing!gojo who is extremely helpful during the few days that you and the baby have to spend at the hospital. he makes sure you get whatever foods you want, always have the tv set to the right channel, and always helping you to the bathroom even if you don’t ask

nightwing!gojo who is absolutely in love with your postpartum body. whenever the baby’s asleep, or with bruce, gojo always comes up behind you—gripping your waist, thighs, and stomach whispering about how much he loves your ‘new’ found body

nightwing!gojo who fucks you for the first time, three months after having your baby. of course, he goes slow like the ever so loving gentleman he is. he makes sure to cater to all your needs like, water, small snacks, and loving praises.

“you’re doing so well, my love. you’ve given me something above and beyond, let me repay you.”

nightwing!gojo who makes you cum at least three times that night

nightwing!gojo who picks your son up from bruce, but this time he’s dressed in his own mini robin onesie

nightwing!gojo who cherishes the moments between the three of you and while maintaining his own life as nightwing

nightwing!gojo who now knows how to balance being nightwing and a good father

Alpha!Clark who presented as an Alpha and literally couldn't stop thinkin' about you. During his entire first rut, his brain was consumed with thoughts of you. Thoughts of you being such a good omega and helping him with school work, thoughts of him scaring off your bullies who thought you were too flamboyant, thoughts of you beneath him, thoughts of you purring Clark's name into his ear... It really affected Clark. He felt so full of shame once he'd come to after his rut had ended; he literally couldn't look you in the eye for a week!

Alpha!Clark who had discovered a new side of himself, a side he tried so hard to shove down and keep hidden. A side which would keep Clark up at night unless he jerked off to the thought of you, his innocent, perfect, sexy childhood best friend, in compromising positions and situations with the Alpha. A side to himself which made it so difficult for Clark to concentrate on what you were saying when you're eyes looked so pretty looking up at him, when your scent was making his brain feel fuzzy and his dick ache, oh and especially when your voice saying his name to get his attention sounded so sweet. But the superhuman kept this perverted side of himself bottled up. That was until he received a gift.

Alpha!Clark who couldn't turn down a gift from the Omega he'd been desperate to court since childhood. So, when you presented him with a silver band-like ring, how could he resist putting it on? Though both of you were unaware that the minuscule red gem encrusted into the ring, the one you thought was a plastic rhinestone, was actually one of the last tiny pieces of red kryptonite left on earth (excuse the lack of series knowledge). And you wouldn't find out for a while. After all, it was such a tiny piece that it affected Clark very minutely. Though it slowly but surely picked up speed.

Alpha!Clark who thought he just felt a bit braver recently. Maybe his brain had fully developed. Or perhaps he just stopped thinking about consequences or morals as much, but he was definitely acting differently... Again, it started off slow and small. An out-of-pocket kinda sexual comment about you that you'd laugh off: "Your lips look good around that popsicle". Then it turned into more open courting; yeah, you and Clark had kind of been courting each other since childhood, but now the Alpha was carrying your bag around all day and giving you gifts every morning. Then came the jealousy; an alpha couldn't get a word in if Clark was around, whether the said alpha be a friend of yours or even sometimes a teacher, Clark would be on them like white on rice; holding back snarls as his arm snakes around your waist, baring his teeth, and making passive-aggressive comments.

Alpha!Clark who was still managing to put up a 'good Alpha' front despite the influence of the kryptonite. But behind closed doors, it was a very different story. The laundry basket in your room had tempted Clark many times, to the point it became routine for him to sneak a pair of your underwear and take it home with him, replacing it with a pair he'd stolen a couple of weeks past, which had lost your scent. Oh, and not to mention the way that any time you would sleep over at his house, share a bed with him, Clark would make sure you were asleep and jerk off until his dick felt like it would fall off. You just looked so fucking perfect and blissful next to (below) him, how could he resist? How could he stop?

Alpha!Clark who had reached his boiling point. It was a hot summer day, and Clark was being made to help out on his parents' farm while school was out. Of course you offered to help him out, and how could he say no? It was getting to a point that Clark could barely go a whole day without seeing you. But you were really doing the opposite of helping him. Sure, you were getting the jobs around the farm done, no complaints there. But you were rendering the young alpha practically inept with the way your skimpy summer clothes were showing off your skin, the way your body was shiny and sweaty from the hot summer air, and holy shit, the way your face was flushed along with your cute pants of exhaustion? Clark could feel the boner in his pants almost tear the seams of his briefs.

Alpha!Clark who finally submitted to the influence of the red kryptonite in his ring, meaning he finally gave into his desires, his basic Alphan needs. You don't even know how it happened, but one second you were moving around some haybales in the Kent's barn, and the next you were sitting atop said haybales with Clark standing between your legs, kissing you feverishly. His scent of mineral musk and small notes of grapefruit was all you could smell, making your head feel fuzzy as you reciprocated the kiss, the kiss from your childhood best friend. Clark, on the other hand, was greedily inhaling the sweet smell of vanilla bean and sandalwood that was leaking from your scent gland; the alpha literally huffing through his nose whilst moulding his lips against yours, you'd think Clark was addicted to your scent.

Alpha!Clark who had his (temporary) fix of your lips and started kissing down your neck, stopping to give your scent gland some attention, and all the way down to the waistline of your shorts. Before it even registered to you, mainly due to the Alpha pheremones weakening your frontal cortex to increase the chance of reproduction, Clark was on his knees below you; his strong, muscular arms holding your thighs up and his chiselled face between your asscheeks. Loud moans and desperate whines echoed throughout the barn and only worked to egg Clark on as he worked his warm, wet tongue into your hole; your gushing slick and his own spit literally flowing down his chin and perfect jawline like some lewd waterfall. Your fingers gripped the Alpha's brown locks with a force that to you felt like a lot, but to the absolute hunk of an Alpha beneath you felt like an adorable attempt. Your toes curled in the air above Clark's head as your thighs shook from the intense pleasure of an Alpha eating you out like he was starved, because after pinning for you for so many years, Clark may as well have been.

Alpha!Clark who felt his heart skip a beat and his inner alpha scream in pleasure when you came on his tongue as you moaned out Clark's name. But the Alpha fell in love with you even more (though that would be literally impossible) when, after basking in the afterglow of your earthshattering orgasm, you offered Clark the same treatment, explaining with an embarrassed blush that you didn't want him to feel left out. That's how you both ended up lying hayloft of Clark's barn; you on top of the muscular alpha in a sixty-nine position, his dick in your mouth and vice versa. To say that Clark had never felt so much pleasure before would be an understatement, 'cause the way you started to gently lap at the Alpha's musky, inhumanely large dick and then transitioned into head sloppier than Clark had seen in porno's? That shit made Clark wanna cum then and there. But don't think that just 'cause the brunnette was almost drunk on pleasure that he wasn't focusing on your pleasure too! No, no, Clark was having to wrap his muscular arms around your hips to keep them still; the top he was giving you was making you leak slick and pre like a tap left runnin'! Seriously though, Clark could fit your entire omegan prick inside his mouth with ease, and the way his tongue would rub your tip whilst his cheeks would hollow was making you see stars.

Alpha!Clark who held off his orgasm, perks of being Kryptonian, unlike you, who shot another load down the Alpha's throat and leaked so much slick that Clark could have drowned. Though Clark was more than happy to hold off his orgasm if it meant he could knot his Omega; yes, his Omega, 'cause at this point, marking and knotting you were formalities to claiming you. By the time the aftershocks of your second orgasm had quietened down, Clark already had you in another position; kneeling behind you as your chest lay flat on the hayloft, your hips on the other hand, propped up and presenting for your Alpha. Clark gave you the grace of entering you slowly and giving you time to adjust to his ten-inch monster; though from the mewls and moans of pain and pleasure you were letting out, his soft approach barely helped.

Alpha!Clark who rocked your world the moment you gave him the green light. We're talking backshots that could be heard all the way in England; Clark's huge, masculine hands gripping your hips tight enough to move you on and off his cock but gently enough to let you know he cares. Your breathy moans loudly reverberated throughout the barn as Clark knocked the wind out of you with every thrust, and the Alpha's own groans and moans harmonised with yours so nicely. Your scents mixed in the air along with the smell of slick, spit, and sweat; the hot, humid summer air making even the open-plan barn stink of raw sex. The scene looked like it belonged in a VHR porno, and both of you couldn't get enough of it; your Omega keening and purring at the physical and emotional feeling of having an Alpha like Clark want you in this way, and Clark's alpha roaring in pleasure and pride from having his Omega beneath him and drunk on pleasure from his doing.

Alpha!Clark who checked in on you one last time before letting himself go, leaning down, his muscular chest to your arching back, and whispering in your ear 'you doin' good? Mind if I knot you, darling?'. Ugh and when you give the man a forced nod and moan out a 'yes please'? How could Clark help himself? He'd wrapping and arm around your waist and another around head, letting your head rest against his huge bicep as his hips start moving at a speed your body could barely register or handle. All you could remember other than your own lewd sounds and moans was Clark's groaned-out string of perverted, raw, Alphan comments as he knotted you. "Fuck you're so tight" "So fuckin' good for me- the- NGH- perfect fucking Omega" "AH- Shit-! so wet and warm just for your- your alpha" "Fuck 'm gonna knot you 'n fill you with my pups, darlin' You want that, don't ya?" That dirty talk, along with the feeling of Clark's thick knot pushing against your rim, was what sent you over the edge for a third time. You saw white, then black, then stars of white again as your vision came back in small spots. Your dick soaked the wood and hay below you with infertile Omegan cum, your breathy moans and whiny pants mixed with Clark's moans and croons as his knot kept him locked inside of you; his thick, warm, scarily fertile cum filling you to the brim. Every unconscious pulse of your walls coaxed and forced another shot of seed out of Clark; a natural push and pull from your inner Omega and Alpha. At the end of the day, no matter how much pleasure you get out of this, the end goal, whether you want it or not, is pups.

University has been very difficult for you, hectic even, though not necessarily through academics, you've been a consistent honor student back in your home land, always joining some extra-curriculum activities, organizations and even climbing to the higher ranks, medals hanged heavily at your neck, gold and silver. though maybe it's just you're still adapting to your new environment.

It's not like your parents pressured you to be that way, to be an academic weapon, in fact they are very supportive, asking how your day went, they even ask to help you with your homework, and you merely gave them a look, like they've spilled your matcha latte in your chem textbooks, one might say that you're studious, intellectual, more likely a nerd in their lame and miniscule minds.

Well who could blame them? It's not like they pay your bills for you to care enough.

Glancing at your phone, 2:03 am, your message box was empty, it always had been empty, it's either your professor asking you for the class itinerary or the delivery guy who always asks for a tip every time you order chinese takeout on a friday night.

Surprisingly enough, you got a few friends to rely on even with your individualist syndrome, your message box might be empty but your curated ig account isn't, like your own little museum, you never showed your appearance but people assumed that you're quite attractive because of your style. They often see your friends, Yuji, Nobara and Megumi, they're sophomores while you're a junior, it is your third year in college, so just one year gap, but they insist on calling you their own old man.

You were a sophomore when you got into your dorm, you never had a roommate, well more likely because there's a rumored ghost haunting the hallways and bathrooms, It's not like you don't believe in ghosts, you actually like watching paranormal documentaries after the exams, but it's because you like the peaceful and quiet nights when you can study unbothered, doing the chores on your own accord, cooking meals with no one to share with.

It might seem lonely to be by yourself, but at least you got your cat, no?

You flinched, as you felt a furry and fluffy creature snuggled against your foot.

“Kiki. . are you hungry?”

You asked the white furball reaching for it, your hands slipping under its short arms, putting kiki on your lap and scratching its head and chin, it mewled softly leaning to your touch.

“I guess you are. . .”

-

You hated calculus, no, you loathed it.

Let's just say that mathematics wasn't your strong suit. . . You literally just crawled your way in to pass that subject, you even tried to avoid it but it was inevitable, you never had a blink of sleep when you tried to study Multivariable calculus, and all of that shit show, your eyes almost bulged out of your skull sockets and it's already the fourth can of coffee you've inhaled.

You'd rather memorize all parts of every single organ in your body and its functions than adding, subtracting two vectors.

-

Now at some cafe.

“[Name], are you still breathing. . ?” Nobara asked in half concern while putting on her lip-gloss.

“Doubt it! I mean just look at him he looks like he just went to his own funeral!!” Yuji grimaced as he tried to shake you for your soul to somehow wake up again.

“Well aren't you harsh?” Megumi sat down next to you, with a matcha latte on his hand, sliding it in front of you.

“I'm actually cooked.” You then gently grasp Yuji's hands gripping your shoulders and pulling it off you with a forlorn look on your face.

“Cooked? Babe, you're charred at this point, you can't just keep avoiding your core subject y'know? It's a general education requirement, what if you can't graduate because of it.” Nobara deadpanned, her words stung but it was facts.

“You're talking as if you didn't fail general mathematics in highschool, consecutively. ” You bantered as you felt a hand, fingers with acrylics on it, gripping your scalp, ouch.

“HOW DARE—?! I'm just concerned about you and that's what you're going to repay me?” Nobara spouted while she continues to torture you.

“How about you get a tutor, [Name]?” Yuji meekly suggested, while he takes a little sip of your matcha latte.

“[Name]'s pride is higher than the mount everest itself, y'know, he can't just stumble on faculty and inquire for a tutor that's just crazy—” Megumi scoffed, not until you actually consider it.

“Yuji. . .that's actually smart of you.” You gave your friend a small grin as you ruffled his soft pink locks.

“WAAH.. [Name] complimented me! It's a miracle—”

“Ugh. enough of this studying shit already, sem-break is actually coming how about we actually do something fun, and you! why don't you come with us just this once? You've done nothing but to rot inside of your dorm!” Nobara irked as she pulled her brown strands in distress, pointing at you.

“Why would I? Y'know I don't like socializing..” You grumbled leaning down to sip on your matcha latte.

“Oh for god's sake! It's Halloween you dumbass and we're having a party, I hope that calculus notebooks of yours haunt you.” Nobara rolled her eyes to sass, jested as she checked her phone if her costume is arriving on 29th.

You choked on your drink, and your friends just snickered at you. What a lovely friends you have.

-

His ocean-blue eyes glimmered behind the black frames he was wearing, he eyes then glanced to his wrist, pulling the white sleeves of his button up, revealing a silver rolex, 6:09 pm.

The library has always been empty and quiet, not because it was in the rules to be quiet, but because people rarely come there to study, most of them just borrow books and go on their merry way to go back to their dorms or home.

Gojo Satoru liked the vibes of this particular library mainly because the books here are more scholarly and detailed, just his type, the smell of coffee and old paper, vellichor is what would he call. And especially because this library is fully air-conditioned and it has free wifi if you kindly ask the elderly who supervised the whole library.

He does visit the university library to return books but it just doesn't just piqued his interest especially when it's packed of performative students who just lounge there for attention, for his attention.

Well wouldn't? He might be a studious monster but it doesn't mean that he's not packed under that model student facade.

There's been this trend around the universities all around the country that's actually quite concerning for him. Like what do you mean people wanted a tall, handsome and nerdy boyfriend who never felt a touch of a woman all of his life for? And why does it have to be him? Well too bad they can't approach him.

His name and candid pictures is all over the internet for some reason and they've immortalized him into their degenerate fantasies.

He turned off his phone before he even went to a crashout, he then rubbed his eyelids, pushing his glasses upwards. His gaze then reverted back on to his laptop, looking at the date, 10/15/25. . . Should I do it. . . ?

He then heard rustling just in front of him, a few meters away from him, fixing his posture, to see who it is.

“Oh. . It's him, again.”

He always sees you in the library but he never saw you on campus, he knows that you guys went to the same university because of the ID lace you've been wearing, and you're always studying.. just like him, though you never acknowledged him inside the library nor tried to bother him in any way, though your presence always has been comforting for him, making him feel that he wasn't alone in this big ass library.

Whenever you guys somehow make eye contact with each other, you never gave him a scowl nor a smile, just your eyes making contact with his own made a connection, a silent conversation, Gojo felt something inside of him that he never felt before, he tried to brush it off like anyone else. Ignoring the part that his ears are tinted with pink and felt the blood rush onto his cheeks, his eyebrows knitted.

“Is this what having a crush is like. . .? How troublesome.”

He then continues to finish his reports, looking all constipated.

-

Let's just say that Gojo Satoru is a well-known figure all around the university, he dominated the ranks, consecutively, and his family name is widely known for it's excellence and luxuries, though he's been gifted intellectually ever since he was in his pre-school, crushing anyone's dreams and passion in one snap, the true definition of talent beats hardwork, many people despised him for that but some admired him, well not that Gojo cares for that anyways.

It was autumn, the sea of every shade of orange and brown maple leaves flooded the streets followed by the cold breeze making them dance, with kids in their thick coats, bonnets and little mittens running down the road, chasing each other.

He was walking down the hallway, basking in sunlight, almost illuminating his tall figure, fixing his black spectacles, he was wearing a black trench coat that reached below his knees, black turtleneck, grey slacks, and there hanged his ID lace, the shadow of the trees swaying gently in the wind matched the atmosphere, noticing the horde of students in front of the bulletin board where the preliminary ranks are announced, he then observed some of the students expressions contorted into a shocked, broken and somehow relieve faces.

“They're blocking the way. . .” Gojo irked as his veins almost popped on his forehead, he doesn't have a choice but to just look at the bulletin board himself where he can look for his rank this time, some of the students noticed his presence with a shocked expression and decided to step away, giving him a path and everyone else did.

His eyes scanned for his name, finding it on top, Rank 1. Satoru Gojo, with 99.45%, and followed by Aoi Todo being on Rank 2. with 97.56%, he felt the burning stares almost poking through his back, he heard some of the murmurs being “He didn't get a hundred this time, huh?” “Are you serious? You couldn't even get passed 70% you imbecile?!”

Gojo merely deadpanned, though they're right, he's expecting it to be 99.87% or just flat 100% this semester, General biology really did do him dirty this time, he gripped the handle of his black prada satchel rather tightly.

He then noticed a presence beside him, eyes widening slightly, it was you, he felt his heart thump, you must've been here to look at your rank as well, considering at the side you're in you must be his junior, looking at the direction you're looking at he saw your rank.

Rank 1. [Name] [Last name], with 99.47%

“Holy shit.” Gojo's eyes widened once again, his eyes slightly shimmering staring back at your figure.

“Stupid calculus. . .—” You murmured, eyes almost burning the paper in front of you, you then hear the tall person beside you.

“Wanna be study buddies together?” Gojo said in the most monotonous way as possible, as if he didn't just dropped a bomb on you and everyone else who's present, shoving his hands deep inside his pockets, ignoring the warm sensation coiling into his core and the audience behind you two.

“Pardon . . ?” Your jaw agape, confused? puzzled? confuzzled? You don't even know if that's a word at this point.

-

“So. . . you're meant to tell me that we should tutor each other, because your weak point is Biology and my weak point is Calculus?” You said as you try to calm yourself down, by the fact that the most popular nerd in the campus just drags you to some expensive cafe downtown to talk about academics. were you in some sort of lucid dream?

“Wrong, I said that your strong suit is Biology and my strong suit Calculus and by that we should help each other to be on top” Gojo gave a smile while slicing his strawberry shortcake with a knife.

“You literally just twisted my words and still proved my point, and besides how can we do that? We're not in the same year nor curriculum.” You then stabbed the blueberry cheesecake in half with a fork and shoved it in your mouth. fuck this shit is so good.

“Cute, but I did consider that and thought about that already, do you really think that I'll just decide and not think of the possible effects? I'm hurt.” Gojo pouted, chewing on his lips like a bullied child, fiddling his fingers together.

“You're a child. . . I didn't expect you to be this way y'know? You just have this certain aura about you that would make people not approach you at all but here you are begging me to be your study mate.” You said bluntly then sipping on your chocolate milkshake.

“Is that what you really think of me? Well I guess that's fair, though I just didn't like people leeching off me for their own benefits, but I'm guessing that you knew that already knowing how smart you are, aren't you?” Gojo said steadily, gaze dripping to your form, memorizing the every curve of you.

“Of course? I'm sure it's not that hard to conclude, no? Unless you're that pathetic, Being smart is nothing without empathy after all, so yes I would love to be your tutor.” You finished with a satisfied expression, putting down your fork on the plate.

“You just know what to say every time, did you rehearse this by any chance?” Gojo's heart kept on beating loudly as if he was alive again, leaning his head down to hide his growing smile and the healthy pink tint on his cheeks, it's so nice to get to talk to someone once again, he thought to himself.

“ I'm afraid I did not. . .”

-

“Satoru. . . Did you hit your head on your way home? What do you mean you want to live in the dorms?!” Geto screamed at the man as if he killed somebody. . . again.

“What's the big deal? It's not like I'm going to move away forever, just for a while y'know, I need tutoring for biology and shit.” Gojo grumbled slipping off his shoes and throwing the socks in the laundry bucket.

“Well it's not like I'm opposed to it or something, it's just so sudden. . . and weirdly enough for tutoring purposes? You all of people needed tutoring? Are you still the Satoru Gojo that I knew? The honor stud—” Geto was silenced by a pillow colliding on his face. “HEY—?!”

“Oh, shut your trap, will you? I literally have to beg my way just to make him agree y'know?” Gojo complained, lying down on the soft mattress of the couch.

“Begging? You? Damn you are down bad aren't you? Is your new boy-toy that hot?” Geto flopped down the couch beside Gojo, as he turned on the television.

“He's not just hot y'know, he's incredibly smart and kind too . . .” Gojo buried his face on the pillow screaming into it.

“You got yourself a crush, huh. Young love these days. . .” Geto sighed, holding the remote directly at the big ass screen in front of them.

“Ugh. You're such a bummer, Suguru. . .” Gojo sat up, gaze staring at the screen, reading it silently.

Scream, 1996.

“Hey, Suguru. Wanna dress up as Ghostface again? I mean it's almost Halloween.” Gojo asked Geto beside him.

“Eh, Him again? I think I will change my costume this year's halloween y'know? Like Count Dracula or something.” Geto answered his friend making his way to the kitchen to get some snacks.

“Well suit yourself, I guess.”

-

“WHAT?!” all of your friends chorused, cramped inside your dormitory, it's not that cramped actually, you're just dramatic.

“Oh, will you guys shut up about it already?” You grimaced as you tried to focus on the math tutorial online to not embarrass yourself once your tutoring starts, clicking the play button on your laptop on top of your study desk, notebooks and textbooks scattered everywhere.

“What do you mean by shutting it already, huh?! You punk. The Gojo Satoru just asked you to be his tutor?! That's fucking insane.” Nobara pinched your cheeks and pulled it with a scary look at her face, you tried to pull it off only for her to pinched it even more causing you to winced. Her nails are weapons, I'm telling y'all.

“That's actually so lit, [Name]!! I mean you are the smartest student in the Junior department after all and he's the smartest in the senior department.” Yuji said with a proud look on his face because he's your friend and you're his friend.

“For once, I agree with Itadori.” Megumi said while playing with Kiki on top of your bed as the cat merely snuggled to Megumi's side.

“Hey! What's that supposed to mean, huh?!” Yuji abruptly stood up to throw a pillow at Megumi.

“ H-HEY NO PILLOW FIGHT— HEY THAT'S MY TROPHY YOU DUMBASS?! PUT IT DOWNNN—”

-

After class, you found yourself in the teacher's faculty room, the air-conditioning hitting your face gently, a cold shiver running down your spine, Professor Tsukaba personally called for you via message.

“Mr. [Last Name], thank you for the immediate attendance, I would like to inform you about the issues with your dormitory and I would like to congratulate you for ranking first.” Ms. Tsukaba merely spinned her chair with a small smile gracing her lips.

“Issues? I'm afraid, I don't know what you're talking about. . .though thank you Professor Tsukaba.” You pondered, but you don't exactly remember what you did wrong or what happened to have an issue.

“Oh, Do not worry dear, it's not that kind of issue. It's just that the University's (RA) noticed that you don't have a roommate just this week and we decided to settle it, luckily someone in the senior department is willing to be your roommate, since it's his first time in the dormitory.” She explained to you while finishing her lesson plan.

Your body stiffened at the moment that you actually forgot to breathe, a roommate?!

“Ah. . Is that so, I understand. Though can I please know who it is?” You meekly asked the lady.

“I'm afraid I cannot, I made a promise with that child, to not tell you who he is if you ever asked for it.” Ms. Tsukaba apologized with a sorry face.

“No, it's completely alright, Professor. When is he arriving?” You dismissed but asked again.

“Tomorrow night, Dear.” The lady answered your question before sipping her tea.

ALREADY?!

“ Thank you, Professor. I will take my leave now.” You plead your goodbye, as you bow to her.

“No need to be so formal with me, [Name]. I am not going to feed you math equations this time.” Ms. Tsukaba jested with a teasing tone.

“Ma'am, it's not funny at all. . .” You grimaced.

“Y'know I'm joking.”

You then made your way outside the faculty, the warm sun rays welcoming you through the glass window, the sunset after classes always had mesmerized you while you pondered.

“I guess I need to do a general cleaning, huh. How troublesome.”

-

You slipped the last book into your shelf, the books categorized as what kind of genre or type they are, you even changed the sheets of the unused bed beside you, cleaned the dust on the empty study table, changed the curtains, vacuumed and mopped the floor, you even scrubbed the bathroom clean, cleaning your medals and trophies you received since you're a freshman inside the glass cabinet, of course you have more than that but you left all of your highschool memorabilias and awards at your parent's home.

You flopped down to your bed, checking your phone for the time, 7:12 pm. Swiping up to see if your order has been shipped, it's just Halloween decorations after all, you're still thinking of what your costume is going to be, you did see that some of the dorm rooms had started to decorate their doors and little pathways.

It's still unreal to you that you're going to have a roommate now but you can't bend the rules after all, whoever your roommate's going to be you prayed that they're somewhat kind or chill, you messaged your little friend group about it and they absolutely went batshit about it.

You stood up to look at your appearance in the mirror, damn I look like shit. You then reached for your towel in the rack and got the clothes inside your closet, your roommate might be on their way now and you're looking like shit? No way.

You make your way inside the bathroom and shower.

-

Gojo kept on looking at his watch every damn 5 seconds while he drives with Geto beside him who's looking at him like he's gone mad.

“Will you please calm your ass down? You're not even late. You insisted on living in a dormitory now face the repercussions.” Geto said with a tired face, “If Shoko was here right now she'd be frying you.”

“I am calm! I'm just nervous because it's my first time y'know. . !” Gojo bantered as he parked near the university.

“Oh, don't bullshit me with that, Satoru. I know you too well.” Geto just watched his friend get his luggage inside the trunk in the mirror.

“Yeah, yeah Mr. Know-it-all. Bye for now, don't miss me too much, 'kay?” Gojo said with a smug smile while waving his goodbyes.

“Last time I checked you are the Mr. Know-it-all here, you nerdy hunk. Just don't die.” Geto said while waving back to his friend, starting the car once again.

Gojo went inside the dormitory building to see some of the students in their sleeping wear and some of them in casual, looking at him with a bamboozled expression, he looked for the room 436 with a luggage on his side, wearing a black chrome hearts hoodie with white sweatpants.

He eventually found it on the fourth floor, where the rooms are weirdly quiet, is it not occupied? Well I guess no neighbors then.

He stopped in front of the door, twisting the knob to know if it was locked, it's not. Walking himself inside the room, it was quite spacious, with two windows, two beds and two tables. How cute, it was really made for roommates, have you been living alone like this for months? Isn't that lonely. He also saw your glass cabinet full of trophies and certificates stacked together with your name on it, medals displayed. Yeah. You're his type. He bit his lips, smirking a little.

Gojo also noticed a bolster bed beside your bed with two small bowls, he then felt a creature snuggled beside his leg, a white ragdoll cat, with cerulean-blue eyes that could rival his, letting out a small mewl.

“Well aren't you cute? Besides the fact that you look just like me. . .”

Gojo then made his way to your side, where all your things are organized and located, you're so neat with your things, leaving his luggage by his bed, with a cat following him.

He noticed the small things that screamed too much of you, you're so cute. He also noticed the pictures you displayed, pink haired dude, black haired boy and a brunette girl, it must be your friends.

Gojo heard the knob twisting by the bathroom area, he perked at the familiar figure that emerged from it.

“Long time, no see. How have you've bee—” He then felt his breath hitching by the sight of you, clad in a loose white shirt and dark grey sweat shorts, and a white towel hanging in your neck, droplets of water dripped down your hair strands, also dripping down your thighs and smooth legs. Fuck.

“So it was you after all? I had a hunch but I didn't expect it to be true. . .” You then tried to dry your hair with your towel then you remembered that you have a hair blower in your drawer. “ I've been fine, make yourself at home, you can unpack your things sooner or later if you want, Kiki seems to like you.” You said walking past his frozen figure.

“Its name is Kiki? How adorable, considering that it looks a bit like me, no?” Gojo swallowed his saliva back, and jested, flopping down his bed.

“Now that you mentioned it, Kiki does look like a bit like you because of color, he's also a boy if you're wondering.” You then turn the blower on mild heat to dry your hair, putting the blower slightly higher making your shirt hitched a bit upwards revealing the side of your waist. he wanted to grab it so bad.

“Y-yeah. . . Thanks.” He then looked away covering the half of his face with his hand, fearing that his face might erupt into multiple shades of red. Why must you tease me this way.

-

It has been a week since Gojo moved in with you.

He already got his pc setup with triple monitors settled on his very own desk, his xbox, nintendo switch and even his vr set is already displayed, his multiple textbooks and books are already stacked and settled on the shelf, and not to mention his hyperfixation of Digimon is already there. Gojo's greed sickens me.

You also find him weird.

There are a few times when you catch him just blatantly staring at you then looking away, you can't just ignore the feeling of that eyes memorizing the every crevice of you, no? Watching the every fiber of your being, There are also these scenarios where he will almost touch you in any way but it's almost like he's restraining himself to do so, holding himself back, you can't seem to grasp it.

You will see him all day on his desk studying, well you aren't surprised by it in any way it's just that you notice him skipping his meals trying to memorize and solve things in his notebook, for a smart person he sure is dumb enough to neglect himself.

“Hey. . . Have you eaten? You've been at your desk since 7:06 am, it's already 4:30 pm.” You asked while flopping down to his bed, tilting your head to see his face.

“Aw, I didn't know that you care for me, [Name], for you to keep track of my time at that.” Gojo perked at your sudden appearance next to him, with a dainty smile gracing his lips.

To be fair, Gojo isn't used to being cared for, especially a stranger who only knew him and he knew for weeks, usually it's just Suguru and Shoko who checks up on him, because his parents weren't present when he turned five years old for business overseas and familial reasons, leaving him emotionally unavailable and mentally constipated, then he felt that warm sensation coiling inside of him once again everytime you're so close to him, the hairs on his neck starts to stand up.

“Why yes? This is my first time having a roommate y'know, I can't just have you neglecting yourself, not on my sight.” You bantered at him, putting your arms up to stretch your back.

“That's true or maybe you're just too kind for your own good, do you treat everyone like this, [Name]?” Gojo said with a honeyed tone at first then gritted his teeth by the end of it.

“Not really, I'm quite picky.” You stood up making your way to the mini kitchen you guys have, as you answered him frankly.

“Oh? I guess I'm a lucky one, then?” Gojo's irises glimmered at your form, with a small smile on his lips.

“I guess you are.” You craned your head to look at him and said.

“You aren't really making me win that easy, huh?” Gojo let out a breathy laugh, returning to his screen, hiding his growing smile once again.

“Y'know how I am. . . ” You merely finished grabbing the matcha powder in the cupboard.

-

Your eyes felt heavy, feeling the incoming yawn in your throat you stretched your back, arms up, you've been on your laptop for almost 8 hours now, finishing some of the powerpoint presentations and group reports, a few ones in microsoft excel and some quizzes in kahoot! that made your head want to explode, but you still have a week till the deadline, pushing the power off button the laptop can finally rest and so are you, standing up to make your way in the bathroom, giving your roommate glances who's also chained to his desk, with the textbooks he borrowed from you scattered around his desk, high quality headphones that hanged on his neck, the light of his monitors illuminating his figure, making a certain glow that made him look ethereal.

You washed your face, then brushed your teeth, coming out of the bathroom to see Kiki already waiting for you. Food. Yeah.

You immediately went into the kitchen cabinet to find Kiki's kibbles and his favorite wet food, mixing it together, then poured it into his food bowl.

Yawning once again, then flopping down to the soft cushions of your bed, you almost melted into your mattress, the sheets were cold because of the air-conditioning, and the fabric conditioner smelled so nice, but you can't seem to fall asleep, looking at your roommate who's still glued to his seat, you then rested your chin on your hand, staring at Gojo, his face, I mean who wouldn't especially when he's not wearing his glasses.

Gojo typed the last paragraph, precisely, though he already felt the exhaustion punching him right in the head, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses, until he felt someone staring at him, it was you, staring at him, making eye contact with you.

“Uhm, Do you need anything. . . ?” Gojo asked while fixing his glasses.

You perked up at the sudden question, your mind almost went blank, what should you say? Shit. Well you don't have anything to say anyway because you're just literally looking at his face. Though If I say that it'd be embarrassing, no it's humiliating.

“Well not really. . ? I was just wondering why a good-looking guy like you wears glasses, now that I mention this, I noticed these past few days that you get around just fine even without your glasses, I assumed that your eyes aren't that bad.” You rambled while scratching your cheek, but you just made yourself more humiliated.

Gojo's eyes widened yet softened at your words, no one really asked him that before.

“To be honest, you're quite right, though I already wear glasses since I was in the fourth grade and I am not used to it when I don't have it, I feel like I'm blind or something. . .thanks by the way.” He answered returning back to his monitors, attempting to hide his reddening cheeks.

“I see, well good night then.” You smiled at him as you settled down in your bed, nestled under your snoopy blanket.

“Good night.”

Gojo wasn't the type to lose his mind when it comes to deadlines and the mountain of reviewers that he needs to study on a random thursday night, he's usually so laid-back and composed when it comes to this to this stuff, because he always studies until it's breaking dawn, the sunrise always greeting him like an old friend.

But this time he's not so sure anymore, his skin didn't feel right on his bones, sweat slick on his back, unfocused and distracted, and it's all your fault, the every thought inside his head somehow is being interconnected with you.

Eventually he did get used to it, but it wasn't easy, he really likes it when you teach him, you're actually educating rather than making him feel dumb for not knowing or understanding it, and you're so patient with it too. The way you explained so intricately yet he can pick it up quickly is so important to him. and by that he decided that you're going to be his. No matter what.

He also decided that you're not just his flimsy crush anymore, something ignited inside of him that he can't somehow control, but he's not opposed to it either and then so this kind of occurrence only happens when you're not around.

Whenever he's in the shower he can't help but to get a boner when he remembers your fleeting touch on his broad shoulders, the way you ruffle his white locks whenever he gets the correct answer to your questions, the way your breathing tickles his ears when you gossip with him about your day or when you walked in the room only wearing an unbuttoned white button-up shirt that revealed your soft and smooth stomach with some muscle on it and a black boxer shorts that almost destroyed his last drop of sanity. Fuck he's so into you and you're too oblivious for you're own good.

He bit his lip, eyebrows knitted together, whimpering, pumping his dick up and down, slick covering his shaft, precum oozing out the slit, he imagined you blowing his dick and shooting it down your throat as you gagged on it, tears brimming.

Fuck. He can't wait to tutor you.

-

“Satoru. . . Will you get your ass here already? I need help with decorating the door over here.” You called for him, while holding the Happy Halloween cutouts and webs, you already displayed the jack-o'-lanterns and the whole skeleton sitting on the chair with a coffee mug in its hand, resembling what you're going to be in the future or something.

“Hey! Just because I gave you the permission to call me by my first name doesn't mean that you can abuse it.” Gojo grumbled coming out of the bathroom with his hair slick back from being wet, wearing a black compression shirt and grey joggers.

“Stop being a baby and stick this on the door. ” You rolled your eyes and said while reaching it to Gojo.

“But I'm your baby aren't I?” Gojo finds a way to twist your words against you once again and decides to tease you, leaning his face close to you, with a sly expression.

You smacked his shoulder in return.

“OUCH— Hey! That's not nice” Gojo cried, rubbing the spot that you've smacked, while pouting.

“Well, news flash, I don't intend to be nice.” You said, while walking inside the dorm leaving the weeping Gojo outside, unbeknownst to the reddening of your cheeks and neck.

“For a short-term roommates they sure act like a married couple.” Mai spoke while puffing out smoke in her cigarette, looking at the situation unfolding in front of them.

“This building has been inhabited with gay people or something.” Maki bantered while fixing her cap.

“You're talking as if you didn't just eye fucked Nobara back in the bar.” Mai jested, teasing her twin sister.

“H-HEY?! That's not true, Take that back! and will you stop smoking when I'm around? You've been hanging out with Leiri-senpai haven't you?!” Maki's eyes widened, face blooming into 50 shades of red, pointing to her devil-spawned twin sister.

“Nye nye nye, I can't hear youuu—” Mai said throwing the used cigarettes to the nearby trash can as Maki chased her down the stairs.

-

“Satoru, why's your face like that. . . ?” You noticed then asked in concern.

“What do you mean?” Gojo asked back in return, with a clueless expression.

“You look like you're about to kill someone with that look.” You deadpanned.

“Really? I apologize, I'm just not used to many people coming here to study or lounging, it's usually peaceful.” Gojo reasoned out, as his gaze never left the people packed in the central area of the library, he recognized those ID laces, his veins almost popped in his neck and forehead, knuckle turning white from his grip, when he catches one of them ogling at you.

Fucking. Sukuna Ryomen with his signature smirk. Asshole. He's definitely trying to piss him off. Yeah I'm going to kill that bastard if he even tries to touch you.

“Is that so? Well, don't mind them, I'm sure they meant no harm.” You replied gently.

“Yeah, I'm sure. . .” Gojo said lowly.

-

“Little red riding hood? Really. You're making me dress into some dumb and naive girl? I am quite offended.” You grimaced at Nobara who's dressed up into Clawdeen Wolf from monster high, reaching the costume to you.

“Not my fault that it's the one that you've got in the spinning wheel, be grateful that I'm going to do your make-up!” Nobara rolled her eyes once again, throwing the clothes to your face.

“I'm sure you'll look great, [Name]!!” Yuji tried to cheer you up who's dressed up as the Frankenstein from Hotel Transylvania.

“How come you guys got the good ones while I didn't?!” You complained while pointing fingers at your friends.

“Our fate is aligning with our wants, I guess.” Megumi said while adjusting the scissors in his fingers, dressed up as Edward Scissorhands.

“How unfair.” You sulked while putting on the costume in Nobara's bathroom, the costume consists of white tailored button-up with high collar, long sleeves with ruffles, dark red vest with gold buttons with a matching corset, burgundy trousers that end around the knees, white tights with a rose and vines design, chestnut colored lace-up knee high boots and a dark red cape with a hood and a ribbon, you slipped on the boots and it's just your size. How did Nobara know. . . ?

Anyways, you finished the laces that you need to tie and took your phone to message Gojo to tell him that if he's done dressing then he could go early, don't forget to feed Kiki and lock the door, then turn it off.

You walked out of the bathroom with a scowl, earning a squeal from Nobara who's been waiting for you, Yuji who's just clapping and Megumi who's sitting uncomfortable with his costume, he can't exactly function that well with a big ass diy scissors in his fingers.

“That's more like it you dumbass, now let's do your make-up!!” Nobara mischievously smiled and ran to her walk in closet to grab her make-up box.

You checked your phone to see Gojo's white heart reaction, and a little message that he's already on his way to the campus on the notifications, you smiled softly at the small endearment, he also told you that he's dressed up as Ghostface which actually intrigued you because you haven't watched Scream yet.

“Hey. What are you smiling at? Get your ass here before we get late.” Nobara grimaced, holding a foundation and make-up blender.

Well. You can't escape now, this is your first time joining a party in a public event, especially halloween, mostly you just rot on the couch and just play whatever halloween special movies you see in the recommendation in netflix, eat popcorn then call it a night.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sat on the chair in front of the vanity mirror while Nobara tries not to rip your face off.

“Hey, y'all the class gc just announced something.” Yuji scrolled to his phone.

“What did they say?” Megumi said while muching on some skittles.

“They said that some of the students from the university just crashed into the campus grounds, trick or treating, some of our schoolmates didn't like that and almost started chaos but the university deputy let it slide because it is a halloween party and anybody could join and announced some of the rules and precautions if somebody ever did cause a problem.” Yuji explained with his knitted eyebrows.

“The fuck? Just how shameless could they be to do that? Crashing into another university's party, for what? Couldn't they just do a party on their own campus?” Nobara irked with an angry expression that it almost scared you, while applying light eye shadow on your eyelids.

“I bet they have hidden motives, ain't no way they're just going on our campus to go trick or treating, don't they?” Megumi bantered.

“Yeah, they didn't do this on last year's halloween.” Yuji followed while fixing his red neck tie. Damn this costume is hot.

“Well enough of that, look at our little red riding hood! Isn't he so cute.” Nobara teased while applying the lip gloss on your lips as a finishing touch.

“Will you stop that? You're actually scaring me.” You grimace while Nobara just ignores you as she does a retouch on her face, looking at yourself in the mirror, you actually find it pleasant.

“Looking good, [Name]!!” Yuji complimented you while helping Megumi stand up, as he also agrees.

“Thank you, Yuji.” You smiled while fixing your hair beneath the hood.

“Y'all, let's get going it's almost 6pm.” Nobara reminded while getting her purse.

-

Walking down the streets, you noticed that the streetlights are finally waking, illuminating surroundings, the road is full of kids in their little costumes and jack-o'-lantern baskets filled with candies, it was boisterous yet fun.

What could go wrong, right?

When your little friend group finally reached the University's entrance, it was decorated with Halloween decorations, spooky.

You can hear people chattering inside some are even playing loud music. If you can recall the song, it was called the Goo Goo Muck.

“Looking rather dainty aren't you, Mr. [Last Name]?” Ms. Tsukaba approached you with a fruit punch on her hand and a small smile, dressed up as Unohana from Bleach. Holy shit.

“Professor?! You attend a gathering like this?” Your jaw slacked when you saw your well respected science professor at a Halloween party.

“Why yes? I conclude that this is your first time attending, because I always greet my students if I see them.” Ms. Tsukaba spoke in a well mannered way yet slightly teasing.

“You don't need to rub it in my face, Professor. . .” You sulked once again, while your friends are holding their laugh in their hands while Megumi suffers from holding his breath.

“Y'know I'm joking, dear.” She lamented while patting you in the shoulder.

-

You sat down on some bench while your friends left you to meet up with their other friends, you felt a little lonely but you remembered that you have a roommate, fishing for your phone inside your pockets, you immediately opened your message box to send a message to Gojo, asking where is he as you try to describe what part of campus you're at.

“What's a pretty little thing like you doing all alone over here?”

You flinched at the sudden voice, it was rough yet steady, you looked up to see a man, he has pink hair that was slicked back, burgundy irises that turns into red when light touches it, muscular body that dips down to his slender waist and he's dressed up as the Joker with markings tattooed on his face, and so you thought, he looks just like Yuji. Could it be?

“Do I know you. . . ?” You meekly asked, since you guys are in the secluded area where there's not many people around.

“Aw, sweetheart, don't be that way, I just wanna be friends with ya.” flopping down next to you, one arm on top of the backrest, fleeting touches right on your shoulder, legs slightly spreading, bumping with yours, head leading too close to your shoulder. “The name's Sukuna, darlin', can I know yours?” He said coyly, gaze boring into your figure.

“[Name]. . .” You answered, nervously sliding away from the seat, you sense the intentions of the man beside you, yes. He is fucking hot, you'll admit that, but you barely know him so—

“A fitting name for such a delicate thing, now why are you trying to back away from me?” Sukuna spoke, grinning at your answer, noticing the shifting of your body and the way you're fixing your cape, he finally saw an opening, your hips, he slithered his hand, fingertips almost touching it until, black figure swoop you into his arms.

“Do you not know to fuck off?”

Your eyes widened by the sudden action, cape swaying in the wind, knocking your hood off, you recognized that voice and it sounded pissed off, by instinct you engulf your arms around the man's neck, legs securing his waist.

Gojo lifted up his ghostface mask to the side of his head, he's not wearing his glasses this time, with a deep scowl in his face, gaze that sharp as knives, his irises are almost glowing at this point, you also noticed his jaw ticked, vein prominent on his neck, holding you by the waist by his bulging arms, you don't know what is it but those eyes can hold such storm, menacing and malevolent.

“Is that how you greet your old peers, Gojo? Oh and look I met your little bunny.” Sukuna merely whistled at the swift move, smiling even wider at the sight, teasing, pointing at you.

“Too bad I never considered you as one, you dumbfuck.” Gojo spouts, hands gripping you even tighter. You eyed him, you certainly haven't seen him this worked up and full out cursing someone out, then you whispered into his ear.

“Satoru. . . Let's just go.” Oh how he loves it when he hears his name rolled perfectly out of your lips, he almost purred right there. Patience Satoru. Patience.

“You better take care of that one, or he might disappear.” Sukuna spoke as he lit up the cigarette and put it in his mouth to puff out smoke, looking at two, retreating back to the party, with a growing smirk, leaning his head back. Fuck, that cute little thing is just my type.

While walking, Gojo still hasn't let go of you, and refuses to.

“So mind telling me who he is?” You asked curiously while playing with his hair.

“He's my highschool classmate, and he's a pain in the ass, especially to me.” Gojo pouted and grumbled, tucking his chin on your shoulder, cuddling you at this point.

“Based on his looks, he's a bully isn't he and he bullied you?” You said lean your head on his shoulder while patting his back like you're consoling a child.

“I think so? But I don't really consider it as that, he just loves pestering and messing with me to the point that we almost killed each other.” Gojo narrated while walking down the dimly lit road, damn you did try to run away from the crowd that hard that you really went this far.

“What a child. Do you think he's into me or something?” You absentmindedly said then he just squeezed you a bit tighter right after you said that, you then slap his arm. “Hey! that hurt.” looking at his expression, he's biting his lips with a scowl once again.

“Mhm. . . I think so, But! There's no way I'm letting that happen, I found you first.” Gojo grumbled then declared, making you cringe.

“Anyways, enough of that fucker, did you like my gift though?” Gojo's mood just changed in seconds, Is he bipolar or something? then he asked while tugging the hem of your costume.

“So it was you who bought this?! that's why it fits me so well, are my friends part of this? Oh for god's sake of course they are.” You pull his white locks in anger.

“OUCH—”

-

After the party, and multiple shot fruit punch did really punch you in the face considering that you have a fucking massive headache right now, they didn't tell you that the third batch of fruit punch was alcoholic, good thing that Yuji was there to inform you right after your second glass, now you're in Gojo's car, he said something about staying in his villa to stay for the night but you can't even decide or function properly because of the current state you're in, your head is pounding and your legs hurt, so you just agreed.

Waking up to someone moving you, in a bridal style, you rubbed your eyes to see properly, oh it was Satoru, he's finally wearing his glasses this time.

You noticed the surroundings, you were in some kind of estate, large gates and a pool.

“Satoru, Is this your house?” You asked groggily, leaning to him even more, your head's still pounding after all.

“Yes pretty, this is my home.” Gojo murmured softly into your ears, you only hummed in return. “It's beautiful.”

“Thank you, pretty.”

“Since when did you start calling me that?”

“Since now.”

Going inside, the breeze of the air-conditioning immediately invades your skin, as Gojo settles you down the couch, and it's the softest couch you've laid upon, he went upstairs then comes down with a stack of clothes in his hands.“Hey, you can use the bathroom by the way, wash your face, and change, I just need to take care of something.” Gojo reached the stack of his clothes to you then ruffled your hair. this side of you is so so cute.

“Mhmm. . . Thank you, take care.” You hummed in agreement once again and took the clothes, watching your roommate's form go outside the door.

You reach for your phone to check the time, 9:16 pm, you open to check your message box, pressing your friend group's gc, messaging them if they can go and check Kiki in the dorms, fortunately Yuji's still online and replied that he'll go. Nice.

Damn my legs are fucked up, you thought as you navigate your way in the bathroom in this big ass house you're at, changing into the clothes that you were given and tossing the costume set inside the laundry basket, and it's a bit big for you, well it was Gojo's clothes after all.

He gave you an oversized grey shirt and hello kitty pajamas, you then proceed to wash your face with whatever soap Gojo got in his bathroom, surprisingly he does use the stuff you were also using, coming out the bathroom room, the cold wind made you shiver, damn this place is so fucking cold.

You flop down the couch to observe the spacious place, the interior design was amazing, it fits Gojo's aesthetic just right. Now you remembered, you didn't ask where he was going, you immediately took your phone and messaged him but he didn't answer, how odd, he always answers immediately. Maybe he's busy. You turn it off.

Eventually you got bored since you're not sleepy anymore. Satoru wouldn't mind if you watched a movie on his large ass television, yes? Yeah he wouldn't. you reached for the remote, pressing the Netflix button.

Should you rewatch Halloween once again? Or maybe Friday the 13th?

And so you did both.

It's been two hours since you've been watching, and Gojo still hasn't answered your messages you even tried to call him though it seems like his phone is off and it's actually making you worried.

Then you flinched when you heard it ring, grabbing it to see Sato— wait, this isn't Satoru's contact number, it must've been a wrong press, you just ignored it until it ended, you felt yourself quite famished so you went to the pantry to find some snack, pretzels? Chips? Popcorn? Yeah.

You placed the popcorn bag inside the microwave until your phone rings once again. You finally answered it.

“Hello?” You asked, putting your hand in your hip.

“Hello. Who is this?” The man spoke rather confused, his voice is deep and gravelly, it almost sends shivers down your core.

“Erm. Who're you trying to reach?” You asked once, maybe this is some kind of prank because it's halloween, but wouldn't it be more fitting if it's in april? How peculiar.

“What number is this?” The man asked, and it almost irked you.

“Again, what number are you trying to reach? Mister whoever you are, I don't have time for some kind of prank—” You answered agitated. Then the man answers “I don't know.” You thought that you'll pop a vein first then those popcorn in the microwave.

“Well, I think you have the wrong number.” You replied, a finger almost hovering on the end button. “Do I?” The man behind the phone coyly said.

“Yeah, It happens. Take it easy.” Your eyes flickering to the microwave, you press the end button, hanging up and put it on top of the counter, reaching for the buttons of the microwave, then it rings again. Are you fucking kidding me?

Since you're petty, you answered it again. Hearing the man's voice once again.

“I'm sorry, I guess I dialed the wrong number.”

“So why'd you dial it again?” Your voice almost raising by being annoyed.

“To apologize.”

“You're forgiven, now leave me alone.” You scoffed.

“Wait, wait! Don't hang up on me.” The man almost sounded desperate.

“What now?” You asked, rolling your eyes.

“I wanna talk to you for a second.”

“Sorry to break it to you but I'm busy. And besides I'm sure there's thousand of numbers for you to prank or something.” You sassed to the complete stranger who has an incredibly hot fucking voice but he was disrupting your movie time while waiting for your roommate, you then hanged up.

You finally turned on the microwave and cook the popcorn, fucking finally, watching it spin around inside, once it's done, you opened it and poured it inside a porcelain bowl, you wondered why Gojo decided to live in dormitory when he lives like this.

Flopping down the couch, you reach for the remote, until you hear your phone rings once again. Oh it's the same number. How fun.

“Hello?” You deadpanned.

“Why don't you wanna talk to me?” The man desperately asked, almost sad.

“Hey, actually. Who is this? You're actually creeping me out.” You told him truthfully as you placed the bowl on the glass coffee table, lying down the couch now.

“You tell me your name and I'll tell you mine.”

“Are you serious? If you are, I don't think so.” You replied, you felt your headache coming up again, reaching out for the popcorn and munching it.

“What's that noise?” He asked.

“Popcorn.” You answered shortly.

“You're eating popcorn?”

“Obviously.” You stated, with knitted eyebrows.

“I only eat popcorn at the movies.” He ignored your immediate reply of stating the obvious and continued to yap.

“Well I am getting ready to watch a movie right now, if you care enough.” You answered while eating.

“Really? What movie?”

“Just some scary movies.” You blatantly said.

“You like scary movies?”

“Yeah, but mostly paranormal documentaries.” You answered truthfully, even though he's a complete stranger he seems chill, and so you think.

“What's your favorite scary movie?”

“I actually haven't thought of that.” You pondered.

“You have to have a favorite, what comes to your pretty little mind?” The man's honeyed voice just happened to hypnotize you or something.

“Erm, Halloween? Y'know the one with the guy in white mask that walks around and stalks babysitters?” You answered absentmindedly yet concise, thinking that if you answer him he will finally shut up.

“Yeah. . .”

“What's yours?” It's your turn to ask.

“Guess.”

“Erm. Nightmare on Elm Street?” You just think of a random halloween movie and said it.

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”

“Yeah, I think his name is Freddy Krueger or something.” Your memory wasn't that vivid, it's mostly the functions of the excretory system you try to memorize, not the killers in some movies.

“Freddy, yeah, that's right, I liked that movie. It was scary.” The man merely agrees.

“Well, the first one was, but the rest sucked—” You finally remembered the rest of the movie.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” The man asked.

“Why? You wanna ask me out on a date? Seriously.” Your eyes widened by the sudden question but still remained composed even when this man is literally wasting your time.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mmmm, no.” You denied, the audacity of this man is quite insane.

“You never told me your name.” The man asked.

“Why do you want to know my name, so badly?” You answered once again with your remaining patience, then it happens.

“'Cause I want to know who I'm looking at.”

What the fuck.

Your blood ran cold. The atmosphere suddenly changed, are you trembling? You don't know, you became wary.

“W-what did you just say?” You murmured, as you sat up looking at every direction, but he can still hear you.

“I want to know who I'm talking to.” The man continues to talk.

“That's not what you said.” You bantered, trying to hold yourself together, you need to call Satoru, or whoever it is who's online, you close the blinds, windows and the doors, but remembered that this wasn't your house, you aren't that familiar with it.

“What do you think I said? Hello?”

You turned quiet, trying to think. Fuck, you're so scared, you're actually trembling.

“Look, I think we should call it a night, yes?” You asked the man once again, your heart is beating so fast.

“Wait! I thought we're gonna go out together.”

“Uhm, no. I don't think so.” You tried to stay calm, pressing the end button.

“No! Don't hang up on me—”

You scrambled to your feet, it still hurts but you still went upstairs, finding your way to Satoru's room. Then it rings.

Fuck.

“Yes?” Your voice growing loud.

“I told you to not hang up on me.” The man's voice turned lowly, threateningly.

“What do you want from me. Leave me alone.” You spoke rather harsh.

“To talk.”

“Well, dial someone else, okay?” You said trembling.

“Listen. . . Just don't hang up on me and you'll be fine, understand?” His voice becoming more sinister.

“Is this some kind of joke?” You asked, you're terrified.

“More of a game, really, can you handle that?” He bantered.

“Listen, I'm two seconds away from calling the police—”

“Oh please, honey. They'd never make it in time. We're out in the middle of nowhere.”

Your stomach dropped because y'know to yourself that it was true, the police have always been late, your eyes felt hot, the hairs on your arms and legs started to stand up.

“What do you want from me?!” You screamed at your phone, tears almost brimming down your cheeks.

“To see what your insides look like.”

-

His ocean-blue irises almost dimmed, as blood dripped down his sharp knife, seeing his reflection of it.

There laid Sukuna's body, with multiple stabs in his stomach and head, his organs almost flooding out, gutted like a fish, gouged eye balls, and severed hand, the hand that touched you, there's splotches of blood everywhere, he spat into the dead man's corpse.

“Fuck around and find out, I guess.”

He adjusted his glasses to see you properly, in the monitor, oh how adorable you are, he was already inside the house, specifically the security room where every single angle of the house can be seen, he's watching your every move, he used Sukuna's phone and inserted your number to call you.

He watched you tremble, and cry, like a bunny lost in the woods waiting for the big bad wolf to devour him. Fuck he's hard, watching you go straight up into his bedroom, you just fell right into his trap.

Gojo then took off his bloodied black latex and settled it on top of the control counter, disinfecting the bloodied knife with alcohol, slipping his mask on, once again. Let's play.

It's been awhile since he put on his infamous mask, feeling the adrenaline rush into his system and this time he's more eager, more carnal.

Walking out the door, with feather like footsteps, he lived inside these walls almost half of his life, he already memorized the every corner of his home, even in complete darkness, how smart of you to turn off the lights but he's always two steps ahead of you.

-

You don't know what the fuck happened but it all happened in a flash, you heard the door being shut then a clink being the lock, then your heart pounding inside your ribs. You tried to escape but the knife in his hand just sealed your fate.

Now you're kneeling on the floor with your mouth being fucked, hard.

The masked man's cock has a thick vein that disappears below its head, arched against his sculpted stomach that dips down to his navel, trimmed white pubes. Fuck. Satoru?

You couldn't see properly because of the dark surroundings, hearing a clap, the lights suddenly turned on, revealing the masked man sitting at the chair, legs spreading, surprisingly enough, it's the same mask that your roommate was wearing, you trembled as the cold surface of the sharp knife pricked the skin of your neck, sliding down to your chest, but not enough to scar you.

You felt your eyes widened at the sudden realization, tears brimming, choking on it while the creamy precum drips on your tongue down to your tight throat, whimpering as hands gripped your hair to pushing it deeper, you drooled, eyes rolling back to your skull, feeling the tip of the knife pressing against your throat.

“Well, aren't you a smart boy? Finally figured it out, hm?” Gojo murmured, pushing his mask aside, revealing his face, his white and silky locks falling perfectly to his forehead, with his black frames looking down at you as you look up to him with those pleading eyes, mouth full of his dick. Fuuckk.

“Can't talk with your mouth full, huh? Too bad.” He said with smirking, slamming it down, repeatedly with his hips, hard, the crown of his bulbous tip abusing the end of your throat, he watches as drool and his hot cum pooling in your lips.

The mix of saliva and his semen frothed, coating his shaft with a creamy ring, dripping down your chin, choking on his thick load. You can only moan and breathe to your nose Fuck you felt your own dick getting hard. You wanna touch it so badly.

He then threw the knife at the floor.

“Swallow it, and don't waste a single drop.” He then pulled his cock out of your mouth, creating a thick white string, you tried to swallow it all.

“Toruu. . . you're so mean.” You groggily said, throat raw, cock drunk.

“Aww, baby. Too mean for you?” Gojo cooed while caressing your head, untangling your knotted strands, swooping you up into his lap, you felt his rock hard cock slipped past your hole with slick, eliciting a moan from you.

“We aren't finished yet, pretty.”

-

“Fuck. You look so fucking good with my clothes on, baby.” Gojo moaned, his glasses were still on which made your stomach flutter for some reason you don't understand, while his tongue was deep inside your raw and slick hole, licking the stripe of your ass, holding your shaking thighs with both of his hands in a vice grip, you trembled while you tried to muffle your sounds.

Inserting his fingers on, scissoring your gummy insides, back arching when he spotted your prostate, repeatedly poking it with his thick and long fingers, squelching, you tried to stop his hand but he barely budged, maintaining eye contact with yours.

“Nghh— Ngh—. . .Toru, pleaseee—” You choked a sob.

Gojo merely hummed, pushing his thick fingers in and out of your warm, tight hole, knuckle deep, making you throw your head back, writhing.

“Look at you clenching on my fingers like a cheap whore.” He leaned down into your ear.

You bucked your hips into his fingers on instinct. You've gone non verbal at this point, you couldn't even think straight anymore.

“Where did my smart boy go? Dick so good it melted your brain, is that it?” Gojo teased spoke lowly, coating his shaft with lube, still wet and slick from throat fucking you, he stared at your form laid bare below him, with shirt on, the moonlight shined down at you from the window, body so fuckable and lips so kissable, You're so perfect.

“What would your friends say if they saw you getting dicked down like this, hmm? The smartest student at the junior department getting bred by his senior? fuck, such a slut.”

Gojo snarled, as he leaned into your lips, slipping his pink tongue inside your mouth, sucking on your tongue, sloppily while he grips your neck, nose bumping together, he stared at you, with your blurry eyes from tears, you kept on drooling like a dumb boy you are.

“Oh. . You're really getting it tonight.” He said, taking off his glass and slipping it to you, he made you wear it.

“You look so good honey, my glasses fits you so well.” He purred, while lifting both your legs up to your head, knees bumping in your shoulders, holding it together, locked and tight, and in a snap before you could even react he slipped his thick cock inside making a loud squelch, a loud sultry moan escaped from your lips, guttural from your throat, it almost sent you to blackout, seeing stars, a single tear dripped down your cheek.

“NGHH—! too. . deeep—!!”

“Hmm? Too deep for you, bunny?” He angled his hips, tongue darting out his lips, focused, hitting the bundle of nerves inside dead on, lube and slick almost bubbling from the repeated thrusting, the sound of skin slapping making obscene delicious noises, squelching.

Pulling it out slooowly— then slamming it back in, fast and deep, his shaft now glistening from the slick and creamy sheen of cum, Gojo merely smirked, pressing the bulge forming in your soft tummy making you scream, seeing the dumb expression in your face, tongue lolling, drooling.

“Fwuuck! sooo— b-big— Nghh. . .”

The glasses in your face are now crooked from the impact, pinning you down the mattress, sweat and drool covered your face, your chest heaves.

Fuck you're so hot.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Gojo kept on pounding you until he reached his orgasm, whimpering, shooting hot loads of cum in your creamy hole, thick white strings painted your insides, you can't feel your legs and back anymore, your neck was full of hickeys from Satoru's nipping and sucking. He's so fucking starved.

“Been wanting to fuck you for so long now, do you think you can just tease me and get away with it.” Gojo said while scooping some of his cum inside your hole with his fingers and shoving it in your mouth, you almost choke, you held on to his wrist while maintaining eye contact with me.

“Walking around our dorm half naked and you're expecting to keep my hands to myself?” Gojo knitted his eyebrows together, while he licks your stomach up to your chest, suckling to your perky nipples, you chewed on your swollen lips from kissing, Gojo's lips quirking into a sly smirk, his canines peaking out, while licking and pinching your nipples.

“Wondering if you can produce milk if I just suck it enough.” He said while he watches your face contorted into a blushingly mess.

“W-what kind nonsense are you trying to say now— Nghh—” You managed to let out almost mad, but not until Gojo rammed in his veiny cock in the snap of his hips like a warning, making you squeal.

“T'aww. . . Since when did you get to speak. Dumb boy.” He said dangerously, his irises glinted, sharp and calculated, mocking you, you whined.

“Dumb boys don't get to speak until he's told to, yes?” Gojo gave you a close eyed smile, menacingly, now manhandling you, bending you over as you tried to crouch on all fours but your legs and arms are too weak to even stand, so Gojo grabbed a nearby pillow and settled it on your chest and face.

“And dumb boys take what they can take.” Gojo trailed, admiring his view, fuck, the arch of your back just made him even more rock hard, it's pulsing at this point, from the vein, he held the of flesh of your hips, almost bruising it, then slammed his cock inside in a heartbeat, repeatedly, in and out, it filled you immediately.

Your moans are muffled by the pillow, eyes rolling at the back of your head, tears streaming down your cheeks, staining Satoru's glasses, as you hugged it tightly, you twitched, legs shaking, you felt him in your tummy, the bulbous tip almost poking out below your bellybutton.

“Fuuck—! If I only knew that you'd be this breedable then I would've fucked you in that library in the first place.” Gojo whined, catching his breath, kneading the globes of your ass, watching your hole clench, winking at him, then your mind went blank.

Your back is killing you, and your legs feel like they're going to snap off if you even try to stand and walk. Curse Satoru and his stupid breeding kink, who would've thought that the model student of the campus is such a kinky motherfucker.

-

You don't wanna think anymore, you want to just pass out at this point, I mean who watches scary movies while having an intercourse?! Just what kind of mind does this sex machine have? you missed Kiki.

Now you're riding Gojo's dick in the living room where you neglected the bowl of popcorn, when Gojo decided to fuck with you, rather literally, while watching Scream, 1996. Now that you realized it, the scenarios in that particular movie just mirrored the conversation you guys had in that phone call which genuinely concerned you, and this is your first time watching the movie.

You thought as the tip of his big dick pressed against your already abused prostate, you choked a delicious moan, while the man thrusts his hips, piercing his thick shaft inside you, skin slapping.

“NGH—! T-toruuu—”

“Tired already?” Gojo teased you, asking as if he didn't destroyed you in bed, while caressing your sides, giving your shoulders kisses, you felt the vein in your forehead irked. The audacity of this fucker.

You pull yourself up then slam it back down, catching Gojo off guard, eliciting a moan from him, and a loud squelch. Take that you bitch. Hmph.

“Fuck, baby since when did you learn that, hmm?” Gojo's irises glinted and asked lowly, slithering his bulging arms beneath your knees, lifting it up to your shoulder, legs almost touching your pretty little head.

Gojo then stood up, your back pressed against his hard, toned abs and soft pillowy pectorals, his warm breath tickling your ear, placing sloppy kisses on your neck.

Pulling his thick cock out, leaving his bulbous tip in your rim, then pounding it deep inside of you in an instant, creating the most delicious sound. It almost knocked the air out of you.

“Baby. . . You should've known better to not rile me up.” He whispered into your ear.

“Fuuuck— just look how deep I am inside of you.”

He pressed down the bulge below your bellybutton, you threw your head back to his broad shoulder, gripping hard on his bicep, whimpering and moaning, twitching and shaking.

He kept on fucking you, in long and deep strokes, pushing it deeper with every single thrust, shaping your insides into his size.

He's so fucking big, and your hole is so used and raw, you almost feel bloated from the amount of cum he pounded inside of you, thick spurts of hot creamy sheen of cum just never ends. Is he that pent up?

He keep murmuring in your ears that if he knocked you up hard enough, that'll make you pregnant, full of his kids.

He kept on kissing the every part of your being, your neck, shoulders, jaw and your temple, as if it was enough to compensate with the damages that he made.

Once you recover you'll definitely beat the shit out of him.

feeling the intense sensation of nearing climax, you moved your hips with anticipation, only to have the moment come to an abrupt end. suddenly, a remote click silenced the vibrating toy, followed by the sound of heels approaching on the tiled floor. the heavy footsteps drew closer to where you were, leaving you in suspense.

as the figure crouched down, you could hear the fabric of the clothing being stretched, feel the heat emanating from them, and catch a faint whiff of the heavy cologne wafting through the air, a scent you had encountered before.

"cariño, what beautiful sounds you’re making. i can only imagine the effect they are having on me," miguel whispered.

the mention of miguel's thoughts stirred up curiosity about what he had in store.

miguel retrieved the remote control from his pocket and pressed the up arrow key to intensify the sensation. your left eye twitched as you felt the vibrator pulse strongly, then pause, then pulse again, creating a noticeable pattern. the vibrations continued to escalate, causing your moans to grow louder and your lower body to twitch.

"mi amor, i enjoy seeing how your body responds to the toy. i wonder how you would react to my big, fat hard cock," miguel said with a half-hearted chuckle at his own remark.

as you lay there, anticipating for the teasing to cease, miguel continued manipulating the remote control to adjust the intensity of the vibrator stimulating your ass. despite hearing miguel's pleasure in your discomfort, the sound of the vibrator switching off brought both relief and silence to your moans. your breathing slowed, and your body gradually relaxed.

"are you still hungry, mi amor? because i have something even more enjoyable for you."

miguel proceeded to undress, and as you heard the zipper of his pants being undone, you understood his intentions.

miguel's weight caused the bed to dip, bringing your body closer to him. as he spread your legs with his thighs, he noticed the vibrator still nestled between your cheeks. gently, miguel took hold of the toy's end and slowly removed it. your uncontrollable moans echoed in the room as you felt the vibrator being pulled out, providing a pleasurable sensation but leaving you yearning for the feeling of something filling you once again.

miguel positioned his member over your hole, causing you to feel the tip lightly brushing against it. he playfully teased your entrance by lightly tapping his cock against it, mimicking the motion of a gavel.

every time miguel's cock touched your entrance, your body jolted as you continued to release moans, which excited miguel. with a chuckle, miguel remarked, "you enjoyed that, don't you? you like it when i tease your hole. you want me so badly inside of you don’t you?”

miguel observed your sphincter quiver each time he continued to tap it, and as his desire consumed him, miguel thrust his cock into your hole. He heard your cries as his girthy shaft delved deep into your opening, stretching your walls in a way the vibrator could not achieve.

as miguel slowly withdrew, you could feel the sensation of his cock, causing elicit moan and groan coming from you to which made your lips trembled. miguel was aware of the impact he had on you as he pulled away, sensing your hole pull him back inside of you and in this response, he let out a low growl of satisfaction.

listening to miguel's deep guttering moans excited you, knowing that it signaled the beginning of him truly taking control. "muñeco, look at what you're doing to me. don't start something you can't handle," he warned you playfully. miguel's low, commanding voice always had a way of making you feel weak, sending shivers down your spine - a fact he seemed to notice. "do you enjoy it when I speak to you like this?" he inquired, his tone dripping with desire.

miguel leaned down close to your ear and softly whispered, "i am going to wreck you tonight, baby." with a swift motion, he slammed his body against yours, causing you to gasp as you felt him penetrate even deeper.

"do you enjoy it when I make you feel this way, cariño?" his words elicited a response from both your mind and body. "tell me, mi amor," he softly urged.

as miguel withdrew from you, leaving you yearning for more, you couldn't contain the desire for him to once again consume you. "yes, I love it when you take me like that," you confessed. and with those words, miguel acted swiftly, sending waves of pleasure through your body as your cries echoed in the room.

despite his forceful advances, you found yourself surrendering to the passion, lost in the moment where only your moans and his primal grunts filled the air. miguel's intense desire to claim you completely only fueled your own untamed passion.

miguel persistently targeted your most sensitive spot, eliciting sharp breaths and causing tears to seep from beneath the blindfold. your moans grew louder, reverberating throughout the room and driving miguel to a primal state of pleasure.

with each forceful movement of his body against yours, you found yourself caught between his cock and the soft embrace of the bed. your unrelenting moans prompted miguel to silence you with a passionate kiss, savoring the intimacy as if it were a fleeting moment to cherish.

in the heat of the moment, your mouths fused together, engaging in a dance of tongues that spoke volumes of desire. the exchange of saliva served as a tangible connection, binding you both in a shared pursuit of pleasure.

miguel's breath hitched, his movements becoming more forceful as he pressed harder against you. this caused a tightening sensation within you. with an intense, predatory gaze, miguel's grunts turned animalistic, his actions more aggressive, eliciting a fierce moan from you.

"almost there, tighten up for me," miguel urged.

responding to his desire, you felt miguel's cock being squeezed by your contracting walls. gasping for air, miguel smirked, continuing his passionate rhythm.

"stay with me, baby, i'm almost there," he exclaimed.

a satisfied smile spread across your face as you willingly surrendered to the intensity of the moment. miguel emitted a primal moan, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer, while his other hand tangled in your hair, planting a fervent kiss on your lips.

miguel neared his peak, his thrusts grew more forceful, culminating in an explosive release inside you. simultaneously, you experienced your own climax, your cock shuddering with pleasure as thick ropes of cum adorned your stomach. miguel's cock pulsed within you, filling you with his essence, before he gentled and withdrew, leaving you both spent and satisfied.

after catching your breath for a brief moment, you and miguel both breathed easier. miguel, still slightly weak from his orgasm, moved slowly. he untied your arms and legs, removing the blindfold to reveal your bruises. gently, miguel caressed and kissed your bruises.

not stopping there, miguel began kissing your bruised ankles, working his way up your legs and licking your inner thighs. your response caused you to twitch, making miguel chuckle. he continued by licking your sweat and cum-covered stomach, leaving kisses on your neck before reaching your lips, allowing you to taste your own cum.

miguel smiled slyly. "did I go too far?"

you chuckled. "it was just right." wrapping your arms around miguel's neck, you shared one final kiss before drifting off to sleep.