love the universe

The café seems to come to a standstill around you. 

Servers, customers, even the new intern that’d been blatantly dozing off at the counter jerks his head up and throws a glance at your table—or more accurately to figure out the utterly inhuman voice that’d erupted from your table. 

It was deep. It was gravelly.

It sounded like - in its alien desperation to assimilate to this society - it’d meshed together as many human voices as it could possibly make, and in the end had come up with something that sounded like everything but.

And, of course, that voice had come from your boyfriend of three years.

Toji Fushiguro.

Though he was either ignorant or uncaring - knowing Toji, it was likely both - to the stares that were being thrown his way. He was far too busy fussing around this…symbiote and its separate thoughts and voices, batting around his head as though shooing away a particularly annoying fly. But you’d seen it—fuck, for the briefest second, you’d seen it…the way that this black, murky substance not quite of Earth-like matter had flickered over Toji’s handsome face for a second.

Slime-like skin.

Haunting white eyes.

A long, loooooooong tongue.

You shudder just imagining it.

“Sorry ‘bout that, doll.” Toji grits out- “His name’s Venom and he’s a real pain in the ass.”

You’re barely thinking twice before you utter, “And…how can we fix this?” 

Voice nothing more than a whisper. Though perhaps owing to those suddenly-honed senses of his, Toji can hear you perfectly. “According to my hypothesis, there should be one way in which once the symbiote is completely satiated of its more…base needs, then it parts peacefully with the host. But this is still unfounded- besides, I’d never fuckin’ ask you to-”

“I’ll do it.”

Toji pauses.

“Eh?”

And you’re meeting his shocked expression with one of pure steel, “I’ll do it.”

.

.

.

In almost no time, you’re back in Toji’s laboratory and bent over his desk—what had meant to be a trail run- what had meant to be a simple discussion with the symbiote to test Toji’s hypothesis had ended up with the most looooong, lecherous thrusts being pumped into the back of your cunt.

Your thighs clench together, moans echoing out and hitting the four corners of the walls.

Just the simplest plaps! of Toji’s ravenous hips comin’ down onto yours was enough to send your heels skittering- forced to stand up a little straighter. He’s cleanly lifting you off a few inches just with the probin’ thrusts of his cock—and as Toji bottoms out once more, he’s rushing you straight into your nth high of the night.

Peak after peak.

Thrust after thrust.

The seventh round that you were feeling his thick, throbbing cock piston you through—though according to Toji, they were called trials. 

Trials during which those waves of bliss shred through your core n’ straight up to your muddled head- one that’s immediately getting bombarded by that same gravely tone from before.

“Mmm, you smell sweeter when you cum.”

You startle, “Wh-what was that?”

“Fucked so stupid you can’t hear? Humans are so interesting…” As you’re tentatively turning your head over your shoulder, you’re seeing that Toji’s figure was suddenly taller…towering…covered in that black, goo-like substance from earlier—his face splits from cheek to cheek with a sharp-toothed smile, and suddenly he’s letting escape the most bone-chilling laugh. “I wonder how much sweeter you shall smell when I plant you with my seed-”

“Okay, that’s enough-” Toji’s struggling to gain dominance of the symbiote- though you still weren’t sure how exactly the system worked. You’d determined that it was a dual rule, of sorts, in which one could ‘fight’ the other for control of the body. 

And right now, your boyfriend was the clear winner.

Groaning as he’s winning back control—and with the regaining of his body, he’s bombarded with the sudden sensations of your hot cunt enclosing around his shaft. Sucking. Slurping. Just so thick and throbbing to be even deeper inside you- you’re unsure whether this was just your overstimulated brain talking, but you could’ve sworn that Toji felt even bigger than usual-

“You’re welcome for that, heh.”

You jump, “Wh-what was that?”

“You’re fuckin’ welcome.” The symbiote in Toji’s body utters, and you’re shivering at the sensation of Venom’s looooong lavish tongue dripping down the side of your throat. Licking. “Venom can change shape however we like, we can make ourselves bigger…”

And you can’t fucking give a response to that—you can’t. Because just then that mazin’ tip of Toji’s cock is expanding far beyond what you’re used to.

He’s shovelling in even more inches than you knew he possibly had- he’s thrashing against your cervix and digging in as though he’d probe even deeper if he could- he’s swelling up so much inside your tight walls that it honestly feels as though you’re about to be split down the middle—

“Mmmm, became even sweeter. Heh, you liked that.” Those honed teeth of his graze over your neck, easy enough for him to tear through. “How about curved?”

Immediately bendin’ in such a delicious curve- one that strikes the end of his shaft directly against your g-spot. He doesn’t even have to try. 

Your thighs quake as you feel his flared mushroom tip swabbing n’ stirring and messing up your insides with such an extreme shape. Plunging. Prodding around. The degrees of his curvature bent juuuuuust the right amount that it’d hit most of your tender spots-

“Or what about tentacles-”

“Wait-”

“That fuckin’ jerk.” Soon enough, Toji’s interrupting whatever lecherous plan the alien had for you, and instead using his original cock to pinpoint your insides.

Though Venom might have had the ability to change his shape- absolutely nothing could match Toji. Nothing could match the way he’d already memorized the locations of your sweetest bundles of nerves n’ how exactly you liked them stimulated—whether it was the quick, rapid strokes of just his very flared tip, or the achingly long strokes that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

Your back arches, and your moans crescendo louder than ever as your boyfriend reaches down to twiddle with your sensitive nub. “Right?”

Attempting to look back at him through your sobs, “Wh-what was that, baby?”

“I said—” Toji seethes out between haaaard strokes of his rugged cock- absolutely vicious. He wasn’t taking his time with you today, he was poundin’ your poor cervix raw with his tunneling tip. “Wasn’t he a fuckin’ jerk? Thinking that he’d be able to fuck my girl…”

“Y-yeah…” You’re acutely aware of the fact that Venom was hearing every single word being said. Likely simmering beneath. Likely attempting to regain control and make you spill the truth-

“Uh-huh?” But Toji was on a roll now. As the words spat between his scarred mouth grow faster, so do the ministrations on your pulsing clit. “Wasn’t he just delusional? Thinking that you’d like that alien cock- heh.”

Pathetically nodding along—unsure whether that was for the question or for just how good it felt. “Yeah, mmmm- fuck.”

“Right? And wasn’t he wrong?”

“Yeah-”

“Wasn’t he useless?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Wasn’t this pussy missin’ me?”

“Fuck, yes.” 

And what you’re faced with next wasn’t a question, an insult to Venom, or anything else that you might have expected- it was a sudden spank!

Right on top of your clit.

Right before Toji’s already-elongated cock swivels a few inches deeper than you remember him being able to before. Thicker. Meaner. The top of his shaft was swelling into a fatter circumference, and you swear you can hear the squelches of orifices you’ve never known being opened up—

His sharp canines gnaw down on the shell of your ear, and shivers run down your spine at the guttural tone of his voice. “Then why are you so fuckin’ wet, my little liar?”

“O-oh.”

Shit, he’d known.

He’d been able to hear you, too.

And now you were paying the price: you were feeling Toji’s relentless cadence but with Venom’s ability to bend and prolong his shaft as much as he wanted to. His tendrils of symbiote substance glissade down his cock and stretch out your walls just a bit more—wrapped just around where Toji’s already-massive length was.

And if you thought that that wasn’t enough- you’re damn near losing your mind at the feeling of those fingers twiddlin’ at your clit starting to tingle. Starting to transform.

Before you know it, they feel strangely…tentacle-like. They reminded you of Venom’s own tendrils, though with a sultry suctioning sensation to it that made your body wrack with pleasure- “Oh my god—fuck, Toji, how are you even-”

“You forget that Venom is a part of me now.” He murmurs through a grin, hips only accelerating. Cock only lengthening- fingers only suckling. “And you’re not getting out of this any time soon, doll. At least, not until we have our hypothesis.”

“Shit…”

“Hypothesis schmipothesis. I get to breed her after.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Superman.

“My love…” Just the way that Nanami uttered your sweet, sweet pet name…it was anything but. As though he was a man that’d worshipped every name, statue, and deity in the world—and the only one to answer his wretched prayers was you.

He whispers your name.

Lightning strikes.

Nanami was silhouetted against the tall floor-to-ceiling window of your apartment; his red-clad feet hovering just a few inches off the ground, chest emblazoning the famous ‘S’ of which you could only see the ghost-like outline. Like a faint memory. That long cape of his drapes behind his broad shoulders, flowing in a breezeless wind. His head was bowed. His face utterly expressionless. 

Moonlight falls upon him like a knighthood, but something more untoward.

The night was dark and so had been the day of fighting crime—or so you’d assumed. Usually, when your boyfriend arrived home it was with kisses to your cheek and bouquets of flowers. 

You had no idea what happened today, but…he doesn’t respond to a single one of your calls. Not a single one of your pleas. 

The only thing you can do is take a step forward-

And he jerks as though he’d just been shot by several of the lightning flares outside. A thousand bolts of electricity and even more, more, and more. Even though he had his gaze turned downwards, Nanami doesn’t need to see to sense you-

He already knew.

“My love.” He repeats, as though a broken CD. There was a wisp of something so carnal in his tone, something dark and drenched in…a desire that you couldn’t put your finger on. It was something that made shivers cascade across your body, however. “My love, don’t-”

“Don’t what, Kento?” You’re insisting, even though you fight yourself not to take another step forward as per his wishes. “I need to know what happened, baby.”

“You need to know.” He repeats once more—was he even capable of anything else? You’re starting to grow even more concerned and reconsider your internal pledge when- “I was injured.”

Concern pours over you like a bucket of cold water, “Injured? Where-”

“Not physically.” Nanami spits out through clenched teeth, every syllable difficult for him to enunciate as though coated in glue n’ sticking to the roof of his tongue. In the pale moonlight you could see that his skin was covered in a sort of perspiration - something almost feverish and flushed. “It’s- fuck, I need you to know-”

“Kento, I’m scared for-”

“I need to fuck you.”

And as he finally rushes out the confession, large exhales seep out of him like every bit of his remaining sanity—a weight had been lifted off. But little did he seem to realize that that weight was a keystone for a dam. 

And now he felt like he was about to fucking burst-

“Lex Luthor- latest invention—fuck.” Interrupting his own explanation with a rugged groan - not one that was quite pained, but not…not either. “None taken, no casualties.” Something crossed between rage and ecstasy. How very like Nanami to utter of other before himself- “But I was injected with- fuck—”

You take a step forward, “Kento-”

“-aphrodisiac.”

“Oh.” Heart stopping. Without even thinking, you’re taking a quick scan of his figure to make sure that he wasn’t bluffing about no physical wounds, and when all seems clear on his upper half, your eyes can’t help but drop to the area between Nanami’s chiselled legs - and your sweet boyfriend’s Superman outfit had always been particularly flattering on his body, but this—he looked about nine inches straight through his tight latex and throbbing. Aching. 

You can speak no longer, and him barely enough- “Stay away.”

Another step. “Kento.”

“Darling, I’m going to ruin you.”

And another. “I don’t mind.”

There isn’t the burst and then the frenzy of lips on lips, skin on skin, as you might’ve expected at first. No, not at all. Your words linger in the bedroom for a few more seconds - tight and tempting, just when you think that the tension in the air is going to stretch so taut that it might never snap—Nanami moves. 

Just the slightest action: he stops hovering. Setting his feet down on the windowsill for the first time - and it hits you just then why he hadn’t been touching any bit of your apartment for so long.

Because the moment that Nanami came in contact with any - any - part of you, he was going to go fucking insane. That is, if he didn’t have your pretty pussy to take it out on—in almost no time, you’re finding yourself pressed flat against your king-sized mattress and having your boyfriend’s thickened tip swirlin’ your insides. 

He was just so hot and needy.

Perhaps even greater in girth than you remember him - there was a vein down the middle of his length that stood out n’ massaged every inch of your insides. Throb-throb-throbbing away inside of you as the crowned edge of his shaft bottomed out- fuck, he doesn’t even spend the long, sensual hours of foreplay as he usually would.

Nanami merely throws your legs over his half-uniformed shoulder, merely clasps onto one side of your hips, merely tunnels his angry cock in and out—

In and out. In and out. You’re feeling him glide his handsome nosebridge down the column of your throat- stopping just where you were most sensitive, he’s twitchin’ in-between your puffy folds as he takes in your pheromones. Groaning, you swear you feel him grow even bigger inside of you—“My love—”

It’s that absolutely broken tone of his that makes you jerk your head in response. Blinking up tearily at the blond man, “K-Kento?”

His shaggy, golden bangs were curtained over his eyes n’ covering most of his gaze now - and you’re unsure whether you should be thankful or concerned that you couldn’t measure the sheer primal desire in them anymore. It was obscured from you—and all you’re getting revealed of him are the constant grunts whenever his ruddied cockhead hits the back of your pussy, his shivering hips, his mantra of your name. “I need to know…my love, I need to- fuck, are you okay?” 

“I am—” Strangely enough, it made your cunt grow even wetter to know that he’s caring so much about you even when he was in the depths of the effects of the aphrodisiac-

His mind was wiped clean of anything but his base needs- and yet, there was always a part of him that knew you were what’s most important. And the superhero reaches one roughened hand down to sweetly cup your face, dragging the tip of his thumb down to wipe away any beads of sweat- “Are you s-sure? I need you to be sure-”

“I am sure, Kento.” Insisting. And though you feel just a little awful for interrupting his well-meaning pleas—you also needed to feel his thick, textured cock hitting eeeeevery single inch of you. And though you’re at his complete and utter mercy, you can’t help but squirm your hips around to swivel more of his solid inches inside. “Please- fuck, I need more of you. Don’t hold back-”

“Fuh-fuuuuuuck—” A zig-zagging vein pops out on his forehead, freckled with sweat. “Don’t say that-”

“But I am saying that.” Wrangling your legs off of his sculptured shoulders- or at least, you’re attempting to. But Nanami only needs to drift a single hand up to keep you pliably in place—he’s locking both ankles behind his neck with one hand, long fingers holding them gently yet sternly. It’s all he needs to halt your restless hips as he hits a sensitive spot and ploughs iiiiiiin.

Thrust after thrust.

Again and again.

Every single one of them locates that cute target of your nerves- instantly, it was almost like magic. That deliciously curved end of his shaft manages to maze his way inside, spreadin’ apart your gluey walls and heading straight for that area—all he has to do is follow the channel of your cunt until he’s led straight to that spot he bashes nicely. 

Sloppily.

“Darling, you’re close.”

“I-I am?” Eyes shooting wide open- fuck, he’s right. It takes only one more thrust of his vein-covered cock for you to register the thrills of adrenaline shooting up your spine. You’re arching straight into his chiselled chest, “Oh, shit…I am.”

“My love didn’t know?” Nanami nearly titters. “S’okay…your Kento’s going to fuh-fuck you through it. Your Kento’s going to make you feel so good—ngh.”

And as he utters this, his cadence only grows sloppier.

“May I…” Just so cautious of the way you’re being jostled to n’ fro - of the way you’re nearly hitting the headboard, and the roundness of his balls smack! against your cunt. Nanami has enough clarity to feel almost…sheepish about the way that you’re clearly dumbed down on his cock. His greedy, greedy cock. “May I make you cum- oh, may I go…just a little harder?”

“Kento—” You’re pouting, “I want you to go harder-”

“I-”

“I want you to go the hardest.” And as he’s still half-uniformed, you’re able to reach up and twist your fist in the smooth fabric. Tugging him down, you snarl- “If you want me to cum, Kento, then you better not hold back.”

And Nanami doesn’t answer. He doesn’t utter a single syllable.

He’s merely slowing his hips down and reeling his hips back, back, backwards—he lets the rounded tip of his cock circle your hole for a few seconds. Just the slightest few seconds, before that pulsing length of his shoves deep inside- not even stopping at your g-spot, he’s heading straight for your womb. 

That soft, sopping womb of yours- “My love…” Just the last thing you’re hearing before you’re cumming, “My love, it’s going to take now.”

Blabbering, “Wh-what—”

“It’s going to take.”

And a thick, ropey warmth floods you deeeep from your core- spreadin’ into every nook, cranny, and crevice until you’re feeling a little lightheaded. “Did you really mean…” As your voice murmurs out in pure disbelief, those clingy wads of his cum get pinpointed into even the tiniest sweet spots inside of you—places that you weren’t even sure you had. He’s pressing his thickened tip against the sides of your walls and watching as your sweet, sweet juices get sprayed out. “You- you really didn’t mean…”

Nanami utters nothing but a few raspy groans, eyes locked on the forefront of your core as he shovels inside. Inside and inside. “I did.”

There was an intensity in his eyes that you swear you’re feeling against your skin- and you did. It burned. “Did it seriously—”

“It did.” And his round, reddened tip ends up sticking straight against your womb - fucking you through your own high, fucking you through his drivelling wads of seed. A final swat. “It did, my loves.”

And you’re noting the change of your pet name.

Because you already knew what he meant- it had taken. Nanami Kento was using his superhuman sight to peer through you, watching as his cum trickles into the deepest depths of your womb—and his mouth quirks up into a handsome grin as he notes that it’ll be…

A daughter. 

.

.

.

“Congratulations”

You gape at the screen.

And a quick glance at Nanami reveals that he was doing the very same- though perhaps in not such an outward manner. As soon as possible, you’re staring right back at the screen that showed a little bean of something your doctor was pointing towards and explaining—something that flows in one ear and out the other.

You were still registering that there was a little bean of something.

You don’t know when - it might be second, it might be minutes, it might be days later - but Nanami speaks. Something silent and barely-there, a breathless whisper as though he was afraid that it’d shatter the mirage shown on screen, “A-and…the…?”

He can’t complete his sentence. Though Dr. Shoko Ieri is a professional, and she picks up on what your husband means quite quickly.

He clasps your hand - newly-minuted gold wedding ring cold against your skin - and waits as she peers at the screen once more. Because he knows this—he knows this. He’s seen this with his superhuman vision. 

He’d told you a few months ago just then…

And yet, Nanami’s heart flips. 

She smiles warmly at the two of you, “It’s a girl.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Batman.

“It’s you.” Geto chuckles, “Why did I know that it would be you?”

The sound of his low, throaty laugh is enough to send shivers down your spine—-and…perhaps even lower. Though that’s not something you wanted to unpack right about now.

You had to remember where you were: the mansion of Geto Suguru, billionaire, playboy, mysterious down to the core. The mansion had been as expectedly gaudy and gilded as most rich people loved their homes, but what had drawn you to it the most had been the safe room, of course.

And so here you were standing with a couple gold bricks in your bag and a few more to be packed up- that shouldn’t take long, you assume. And with a careless sigh, you’re ignoring the man himself and getting back to loading them back in—“So? Happy to see me?”

“Oh, less than.” Geto replies. 

“Don’t lie~” Purring, the skin-tight latex of your suit twinkles underneath the rich yellow lighting as you’re turning back to him. You shoot a flirtatious wink his way, “I know this is going to be the source of your wet dreams for years after.”

“Nightmares, more like.” He hobbles a step closer. It puts you on edge.

“Then how about we keep some distance from our nightmares, hm?” You’re gathering up your large loot—much heavier than an average person would be able to carry, though you’re holding it daintily between your fingers with ease. “I come to rob you, you catch me robbing you, you let me go—it’s a win-win for everybody. I really wouldn’t want to use force…”

“And I wouldn’t want to use force either.” Geto smiles so pleasantly, “I don’t really care about the gold- but there’s a pearl necklace in there that used to belong to my mother. How about you leave that and be on your merry way, hm?” 

You pout, “But I liked the pearl necklace.”

And his gaze grows just a little sharper, “I’m afraid that can’t happen, kitty.”

“Oh, I loooove it when you call me that~” Fluttering your lashes at him.

He takes a step closer, “I know your games, Catwoman.”

“And yet you fall for them every time, Batman.”

Did you forget to mention that Geto Suguru - billionaire, playboy, mysterious and also perhaps the most attractive man you’ve ever set your eyes on - was also Batman? Despite that, you still had the most infamous crime-fighting vigilante wrapped around your finger as though he was nothing but a low-grade thief.

And he was trapped in your web now (what was the cat version of that, anyway?)

Leagues below you. He’s biting down on his plush, pretty lip to hold back a whimper as you’re reeling your hips aaaaaall the way back to squeeze his blushin’ tip—holding it there for a few seconds before you give the superhero a good bounce. 

Making him throw his head back with a groan- Geto lets out a slew of swears once you’re starting up the sloppiest cadence. Back and forth. “D-don’t get ahead of yourself, kitty…”

“What was that—?” Pretending to gasp, you’re teasingly leaning your body forwards in a mocking attempt to hear him better. “What was that, Bat? I didn’t hear you- was that a stutter I heard?”

“Fuck off-” Spitting between clenched teeth. Geto’s clasping onto either side of your naked hips, using that strength of his you loooooved being manhandled by to roll your hips in figure-eight motions - just drag-drag-dragging the outline of his cock along your sweet insides. You could feel every ridge n’ crevice of his veins decorating your walls, massaging them into something even softer he loved to fuck up into. 

The two of you were sitting - barely - on the luxurious armchair he had in his safe room. Creaking and ricketing with age every time that Geto arched his hips backwards and gave you a thorough probe—inside. And though you couldn’t say that you planned to end up here, you didn’t quite deny that you had plans to end up in his master bedroom - why else would you have gotten caught?

The both of you knew that if you’d actually wanted to steal something, then you would’ve been out of this damn mansion hours ago. 

Gritting his pearly white canines, Geto crushes your hips further down into his and ruts up into you—“Sh-shit….” 

“What was that about stuttering, gorgeous?”

“Fuck off—”

“I’m fucking you, actually.” He spits between clenched teeth, gyrating your hips around so that the cute nub of your clit rubs up against his fuzzy base. It’s such a carnal feeling to have those curls of jet-black massaging where you were most sensitive, getting more n’ more drenched by the second. By the motions of your dripping wet pussy. He’s snarling, “That’s fuckin’ right- wipe that smug look off of your face. I already know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?” And you’re just barely managing to scrounge up whatever’s left of your sanity together to respond. “And what is that, Monsieur Bat?”

“C’est l’homme chauve-souris.” Geto rolls his amethyst eyes, “And it’s that you think you have me- fuck, underneath your kitty toes.”

“Kinky~”

However, he’s learned not to entertain you with yet another outburst—instead, Geto’s pulling all his energy into inching his hips backwards and planting another thorough thrust deep into the depths of your cunt. So hard that you think he might just have left a mark.

So accomplished in his grin that you think he might’ve been aiming for it

You wouldn’t have been surprised to know that billionaire playboy Geto Suguru liked to let everyone know that he was fucking you- especially you. The hottest cat burglar in all of Gotham. 

The same one he’s been infatuated with since the first time he saw you.

But he was fucking you like he hated you.

The sweetest thing he’s doing yet is cascading a hand down your front- left fingertip teasingly pressing your pussylips apart. It doesn’t take him long - not long at all - to find your pretty clit and draw a few circular motions on top of it—watching as you buck and whine straight into his hands. 

And the meanest thing he’s done yet is reach his other hand behind you.

Because suddenly you’re feeling something cold and metallic click! into place.

You gasp.

You should’ve known that crime-fighting vigilantes often worked from the shadows; from a darkness of which even your feline eyes cannot piece through. You didn’t have eyes in the back of your head, did you? Although perhaps Batman had a gadget for that, too…

And although you already know that you’re fucked- it’s not until the jingle of handcuffs emanates from behind you that you’re really letting the situation sink in. It’s not that you’re afraid of Geto or anything he could do to you, but…it’s just that you’re afraid of what you might do given this forced proximity.

Something stupid like- like admit your feelings to the ever-elusive hero or something. Disgusting. 

On top of that, you’re unable to motion your hips as you were doing so previously. Stuck pathetically grinding back into thrusts that he was already planting onto your cunt, the fatness of his girth sending you to the edge- 

You’re whimpering are you can’t do anything you’d usually do like clasp onto his pretty throat or shove your fingers down his mouth. “Sugu…aw, c’mon—”

“Now I’m Sugu?” Geto snickers, “What happened to Bat? Or loser? Or fuck off? Or I never-want-to-see-you-again?”

Fluttering your lashes innocently, “You know I jest.” To no avail, you’re attempting to slip out of those handcuffs as you’d have done with any other normal ones - but you knew better than to underestimate Batman. As you expected, no matter how much you’re squeezing and molding your hands against that metal, it keeps on adjusting to your shape and restraining you. Keeping you hostage. Only one look at him and you already know that Geto’d spent a fortune creating these…perhaps just for you. “C’mon, baby, let me out of these~”

“No can do, kitty.” He chuckles. And the audacity of this man- he’s straying his right hand down your spine and groping your ass—“Next time we’re keeping the suit on because I wanna pull your tail.”

You scoff.

And he raises one dark brow. Thumb pressing down even harder on your clit, “What was that?”

“N-nothing…” You whimper, entire body wracking with shivers. It’s a few more sloppy thrusts before you can thrust yourself to speak without your voice cracking again—you didn’t want to give more ammunition for his entertainment. “Oh, Geto Suguru, when I get out of these handcuffs I’m going to fucking-”

“Kill me?” He smirks, “We can see you try.”

“You think I can’t?”

Geto shakes his head. “No, I expect it. Just make sure you kiss me first.”

And you can’t deny - neither to yourself or him - that that’s leaving you even wetter than you’d anticipated. The sheen of your arousal dripping through his dark happy trail, leading down to that perfectly chiselled six-pack of his. 

He merely cracks a grin and plants his right hand on one side of your waist—drilling into you even harder than before.

“You know I love you, Bat.” You’re grumbling out almost reluctantly past the clogged mess of whines and moans and tears in your throat. 

“Mmm, love you, too, kitty.”

.

.

.

“Mister Geto, I have collected those crime reports that you requested me to-” Miguel’s deep tone halts immediately at the sight before him. He’s standing by the edge of Geto Suguru’s sprawling master bedroom - the subject of countless features in architectural magazines, and the dreams of high-society alike - eyes widening at the dual figures of you and his employer, bundled up and clearly unclothed beneath the covers. 

Clinging onto one another.

The crime-fighting vigilante and his criminal lover.

Though it wasn’t necessarily a secret around these parts that no matter how many women and men Geto Suguru meets, there will always be a certain cat-eared crime-lover he goes back to…Geto himself wouldn’t appreciate it if such word spread now, would he? This wasn’t the first time he’d crawled right back to you and this won’t be the last- hold on. 

Were his sunglasses deceiving him or was his cold, uptight employer actually smiling in his sleep? Heavens above, this might just be the last time.

This might just. 

Miguel settles for the thought that he’d tease the billionaire about it over dinner—very, very late dinner by the looks of it. 

He leaves the report on the nearest desk - of which there were many, because this is Geto Suguru that we’re speaking about - and heads towards the door. 

Taking one last peak.

Yeah, this might just be the last time. He trusts his intuition, that he’ll be walking into this scene more often than not in the coming years.

Yeah, this might just be for good. 

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Nightwing.

“Who knew that the Nightwing…” You’re purring—smiling like the cat that’s got the cream - or more like the hero that’s just caught her rival. “-sex symbol of Gotham, hottest man of the year, wanted by men and women and everyone in-between…”

And Choso merely bucks weakly beneath you - his hips stutterin’ with every single fucking milimeter that he’s shovelling inside of you.

Choso was red and furiously hot between your legs—thick. Throbbing even harder as he feels his ruddied, red tip scrape the bottom of your pussy; his fat cock twitches there a few times as he registers the soft, spongy platform he was feeling—this was…Those beautiful, brown eyes of his widen as it sinks in. Gasping. Shaking.

And it takes merely two - two - seconds of being stuffed inside you for the famed hero to throw his head back and cum.

And you’re finally finishing your sentence, “-a virgin.”

How had this all happened? How did you end up here?

You could blame it all on the spiked punch, you could blame it all on the lavish ceremony - the highs and lows of the red carpet, ah, they always did tend to make you feel a little more reckless than usual—what’s that saying about all publicity is good publicity? Or perhaps it was the fault of the Hero Awards altogether.

Gathered here with the most elite of the elite, the best heroes from around the world; where they patted one another on their backs and paraded in designer. Reporters starved for the attention of the saviours as much as any competent villain.

Though you couldn’t say too much about them - you yourself were here, too.

But you told yourself that you were here solely for one award—and one award only. All those about best costume, best comeback during a fight, best fancam, best fistfight didn’t matter (though that wasn’t to say that you weren’t grateful, it’d been sweeping wins for all of which you’d teared up). 

You were here for Best Hero of the Year.

The best.

The strongest.

The most battle-savvy.

The most competent.

The best of the best.

Once that nomination letter had arrived, you’d held it to your chest - in pure disbelief - for a long hour afterwards. It was an honor to be nominated—the greatest honor. 

To win this award a panel of seasoned heroes would tally up all of your fights for this year, then grade them based on a variety of aspects such as difficulty, saves, assists, honor; the total would contribute towards a count that determined the winner. And though you’d been cautious about not winning - there were many other wonderful, more experienced heroes nominated - you just didn’t expect for the announcer to open up the golden cue card and read…

Fucking Nightwing.

Which is why you’d cornered him at the after-party - for a congratulations between you two that’d turned into passive aggressiveness, and passive-aggressiveness that’d turned into a proper argument you’re sure the reporters caught wind of, and an argument that ended up with you and Choso tangled up in your hotel room.

Pressing him down with your hips- you’re trembling at the feeling of his warm sap gushing out of you. It’s creating an ivory sheen down the inner sides of your thighs, smearin’ down Choso’s chiselled hips in a way that was just so lewd—and you’re more than happy to make an even bigger mess. 

To throw your head back and grind your hips down onto his.

Choso hiccups, his upper half attempting to surge upwards- only for you to press one pretty finger down on his shoulder. And just the softest push has him tumbling back into the plush pillows, “Shit- y-you can’t just…do that to me.”

“Do what, baby?” You smirk down at him. 

And right as he opens those cute, trembling lips of his to answer—you’re tightenin’ your thighs around his waist and jerking your hips even harder against his. His prominent v-lines massage where you were situated, and Choso groans as his blushin’ cocktip manages to push and pinpoint even the tiniest orifices inside you.

He’s still drooling out beads of cum, pooling at the base of his cock. So much of it- shit, was he still cumming?

Or was he cumming…again?

Unsure of what you were feeling, you’re veering your gaze down and attempting to get a better look. And sure as day- not only was it your translucent slick n’ his precum that was flooding you from the inside, but Choso’s ivory cum sprays out and and mixes into something so lewd-

“Fuck- fuck…” Your mouth waters at the feeling of being stuffed to the brim - so much of it that you’re wondering just how overworked his hefty balls must be. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, “You’re cumming again, Cho—”

“Th-this is exactly what I mean.” Choso sobs out, eyes glittering with tears, “You can’t just do that to me- you can’t make me feel so…stupid when you fuck me.”

Amused, “Stupid, huh? I don’t know if I have to try-”

“See, m’so gone that I’d agree—” That soft whine of his makes you so much wetter. Peering up at you with his half-lidded gaze - boring his dilated pupils into yours, hanging his jaw maddeningly. He presses a simple jerk of his ruddied cockhead into the deepest depths of your cunt - dead fucking serious. “I’d agree that m’stupid. I’d agree that m’pathetic.”

“Awwww…” Arching your back, he’s attempting this cute attempt at ruttin’ into you that you’re indulging in. You let him thrash his needy cockhead again and again and again-

“I-I’m nothing but a fuckin’ ngh, virgin that doesn’t deserve to fuck a pussy like this.” His lips wobble out- and you might have said something about him being too hard on himself…you might.

But the dirtier that Choso was speaking - the harder he was on himself - the harder he was getting.

Longer. Girthier—and his thorough thrusts were spearheading even faster by his tip. Taking out the tension in everything he was saying by ramming straight into your cervix - hard and fast. It twitches right at the very back of your spongy womb…and you’re swearing that a grin grows across Choso’s face as he registers that displeased expression on your face- who did he think he was to try and gain control over you?

“Now now—” You’re pressing both palms on top of his sweaty chest, and you can’t deny that they felt so toned and muscular underneath your touch. “Trying to be a big boy, Nightwing?”

“Only for you.” He croons.

“Cute.” You wrinkle your nose, “But that’d be a lot more smooth if you weren’t cumming- again.”

“Fuh-fuck.”

When was this? The third time? The fourth? Either way, all Choso knows is that he can’t stop those furious zaps of pleasure from coursing through his entire body—every inch and vessel and atom. It’s collecting at the mushroomy tip of his cock, red and swollen, then dribbling out as cum. 

Not even.

Choso barely manages a few pearly white droplets before he’s shooting fucking blanks-

Head throwing back. Gasps echoing out of him. Chest heaving and heaving as you’re riding his overstimulated cock craaaaaazy-

“What was that about Year’s Best Hero?” You’re tittering out, staring into Choso’s utterly pretty face as he’s cumming through tears. Spark upon spark. Strong enough to make his toes curl, and you’re ruthless in the way you’re wrapping your warm pussy around him and milking him dry-

His pinkish lips wobble, “Wh-what was that…”

“How’re you gonna fight crime if you can’t even- ngh, handle a pussy?” 

“W-well, I didn’t expect to be facing such a…formidable foe.” Blabbing out - utter nonsense at this point. He was pussydrunk—if only those at the Hero Award could see him like this. “You could take on a second job as a villain…j-just with that pussy…and also just f’me…”

“I take that as a…compliment?” 

“You’re welcome—ngh.” Choso whimpers out- before there’s a sudden twitch at the crown of his swollen shaft. And those brown brows of his furrow, “B-but don’t be nice to me, however, it’s gonna make me cum- again. Mmm.”

“Oh, Choso…”

.

.

.

The glitz. The glamour. The fans begging you to sign their tits. 

At the very next Hero Awards, there’s a buzz like never before. 

For several reasons, of course: first of all, the matching outfits between you and the famously handsome Nightwing (though you’d argue that yours is the one that looked better, secondly because some drama-lovers anticipated a rerun of the infamous fight between you and aforementioned handsome hero, and last but not least—because of the new category of awards you’d been nominated for.

Most Inspirational Hero Couple.

And it was no surprise that Choso had won this one, but at least this time—you’d won it, too.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Hulk.

It happened not when he was angry, or excited, or panicked.

The results of a top-secret experiment funded by The University of Tokyo, intended to create human super-soldiers: it had been a failure. And Dr. Ryomen Sukuna had known better than to get his hopes up for such a volatile test subject—he was an expert in the field, 7 PhDs in a variety of sciences from biochemistry to radiophysics, he knew that it could take months, years, even decades before they observed even a mere anomaly similar to what they’d been hoping for.

But fuck- Sukuna had really thought he’d done it. He’d made humans immune to gamma radiation.

At least, he’d thought he did.

Ryomen Sukuna blinked his eyes open after the sudden explosion of radiation, and at most he’d expected to see his laboratory wrecked, his data completely wiped. At most.

He didn’t expect to be seeing it from eight feet high.

He didn’t expect to be seeing it with four eyes.

He didn’t expect to wield four massive arms in an attempt to find any shattered piece of glass from which he may see himself from-

Two mouths let out simultaneous gasps. 

One of them slashed across his muscular stomach.

He was a monster.

It didn’t take a single one of his PhDs for Sukuna to know to flee the scene- not just the building, but Tokyo itself. Sirens loomed in the distance, and the acrid smell of radiation left him in waves- bystanders running to the rubble without realizing the danger. He knew you’d be alerted soon—you.

How could he ever face you like this?

Lo and behold he’d ended up at a squat village in Aogashima island; 358km away from Tokyo with only 160 residents. It was here, tucked behind sprawling mountainsides, that Sukuna had come to discover the little intricacies of his…condition. Through trial and error, through testing upon himself and attempting to control that four-armed version of him. Attempting. 

And so the question: what made him transform? 

He discovered that this monstrous state - which he dubbed to be a Curse state - was triggered by sudden increases of his heartbeat. Rarely anger, or excitement, or panic. What else might possibly raise the disgraced scientist’s heartrate well over 200 bpm?

Arousal.

Which is exactly what he’d been learning to control through his breathing techniques, his meditation, and his celibacy- not that he’d want anyone but you. But fuck…the dreams he’d have of you.

Nightmares, when he wakes up as the monstrous King of Curses. 

Heaven, when the exact source of his nightmares - and wettest dreams - comes knocking at his shunted door one sunny summer day. A furrow between your brows. A furious word or two slipping out at the first sight of him. 

Fuck.

.

.

.

One year, two months, and a few days since…the incident and you’d finally located where your ex-boyfriend (and former colleague) had disappeared. 

And you’d expected him to have sunken into his work in one way or another. 

You’d expected him to have holed himself away in some rural town—as he’d confessed to wanting to do on some nights, just with you. You’d even have expected him to have been working on some strange new project after the failure of his last one- he was the type to take it to heart. A little dramatic, but you expected this.

You just didn’t expect…his transformation.

Right before your very eyes.

Four arms. Four eyes. Two cocks that’d stayed twitchin’ in his baggy pants for a mere few minutes of your conversation- before you had your face pushed into pillows that smelled like him, legs struggling to keep you up, begging for more as Sukuna digs those two ruddied cockheads between your pussylips and sliiiiides in-

Just a few inches.

Just a few.

Before the resistance of your tight entrance gets too much- and Sukuna’s leaning back a bit to allow his cursed second mouth to spit down on your pussy. Hard.

The impact makes you shiver, sticky substance gluing your pussylips together. You swear you hear his second mouth snicker as he swabs that cloying texture with his cockheads, and uses his hands to manhandle you into pliable position - one hand cupping your abdomen and pulling you up- the other digging into the left side of your hips- the other reachin’ down to thumb apart your swollen folds and help him fuck his lengths inside. Thick and throbbing.

In short, slow semi-thrusts. He was just trying to fit inside. “Kuna—” Breathing out open-mouthed against the pillows. Needy.

“Needy brat.”

“Kuna.”

“Sh-shit.” And he wasn’t doing a single bit better than you. Sukuna was letting his head drop into the clammy crook of your neck, gnarled canines grazing on top of your skin- you feel the scowl across his face stretch even more as he pull-pull-puuuuuulls those hot erections backwards.

And then probes aaaaaaall the way back in - languidly. 

“Fuck-” You’re gasping out—seeing pure white behind your eyelids. You almost couldn’t believe it. Sukuna was already sizable- but in this form?

He had his round, reddened tips just barely lodging between your swollen folds. Just so big. Pulsing. Pushing apart your slick walls with his circumferences, throbbing away inside you. Rubbing back and forth a few times to savor the squeeze of your hole - like heaven - before he’s stuffin’ every single nook, cranny, and crevice like never before. 

And the carnal burn between your legs was only made sweeter by the way that Sukuna himself trembled on top of you. He’s letting out a coarse grunt-

Gasping. 

“Fuck—fuck, is this okay?”

And a part of you melts at the utter tenderness in his tone - mixing with a hint of fear. Of disbelief. Ryomen Sukuna was never the type to be vulnerable, not even when the two of you had been dating—but as you look over your shoulder right now, you see that those devilish red eyes of his were observing every minute expression as though searching for a hint of rejection. Of disgust.

A hint that he’d been right about his changed form.

He was inhuman in his physique now, and…and he understands if you’d been scared away at any point-

But you’re only arching your spine and veering your hips back into him- cutting off whatever whirlwind of thoughts was bound to consume him. You’re picking up the pace that he’d been unsurely slowly down, bouncin’ down onto those slick-glossed shafts. They filled you up deliciously. “You don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily again, are you?”

“I-”

“I’m more than okay, Kuna.” 

“And yet-”

“And yet, why won’t you fuck me even harder—” Huffing, you’re managing to get up onto your elbows and gain a bit more leverage. “Spent so long looking for you, y’know…”

“Tch.” The scientist grumbles, but you could feel the way those rotund tips of his twitch just a lil’ inside of you. “Should’ve known-” He’s matching your pace with his own, slamming the lines of his toned abs against the globes of your ass cheeks. “-that you’d be an utter slut for monster cock.”

“Cocks.” You correct.

Just then, the wetness of his second tongue trickles down your pussylips. Gathering up every wad of honeyed slick you were leaking out- he was glissading his tastebuds along every inch of you he could reach: your inner thighs, your cute ass, nearly reaching around to fuck your pretty pussy. “Don’t forget the tongue, too, girlie.”

“I c-could never…” You’re keening out.

“Oh?”

And with a grin, Sukuna second-guesses no longer—before he’s leaning his chiselled front over yours. The hard ridges and lines of his muscles massaging your back, he hooks his fourth muscular arm around your neck and pulls you into a damn headlock-

“Fuh-fuck-” Sukuna hisses through his canines - honed and longer and ready to bite. He ruts into you like a damn animal—“Shit, how I missed this…”

“Shouldn’t have run away then-”

“From the fuckin’ freak?” 

Just the slightest press against your throbbing g-spot - it’s like a trigger for the sweet, sweet squeeze of your walls- so warm n’ hungry for his cocks. And Sukuna jerks into urgent attention, 

And now he wasn’t fucking you slow- he wasn’t taking his time.

Ryomen Sukuna had his muscular hips arched n’ reluctant to part from yours. Probin’ those girthy inches of his inside—

You’re attempting to claw at the headboard for dear life- but his keen eyes immediately catch the sliver of action, and Sukuna wastes no time before tightening his headlock ‘round you until his biceps bulge against your throat, hauling you back into his vicious ploughs. “What?” He breathes, scalding hot against the side of your cheek. “Where are we going, girlie?”

“We?” 

“We. I could never forget her.” He’s rasping out against your skin, sending vibrations across every axiom of you. “Always thought of her—”

“A-and what did you think about?” You’re whimpering.

He doesn’t answer for a few seconds. And you’re disappointed as you feel Sukuna take as much time as his heart desires, pulling out of your pussy with a cute pop! Before he swirls his ruddied tips to soften up your entrance once more, and gives you a thorough thrash- going even deeper than prior. He’s making the eyes roll to the back of your head- he’s finally bottoming out. “I thought about how she might take every inch of me…”

“Oh.”

The tip of his second tongue dips out as though to fuck your cunt simultaneously. 

.

.

.

When you’re accompanying Sukuna back to Tokyo, it’s hand-in-hand.

Large and warm against yours. There were more callouses on his fingers than you remember there being - not those of laboratory test tubes, and flasks, and flipping on centrifuges; but the hardship from the year you didn’t have him—and he didn’t have himself, either. 

But you’re tugging him into the airport, now.

Two tickets booked and a meeting at The University of Tokyo already planned - the two of you didn’t plan to let anyone know of his transformative abilities for now. Perhaps never. 

There were things that the two of you hadn’t sorted out yet: like how would Sukuna explain away his disappearance to the science board? How would you both stay in your cramped Tokyo apartment when he turned into his Curse mode? How would you manage to work on controlling it when…

But you knew the two of you would find a way - you always do.

As you’re standing at the terminal to your flight, the ones at the farthest end of the line, you’re turning around to a lilting voice calling out both your names. Your full names. Who knew such a thing…Faced with a grinning woman in a jet-black suit, tinted sunglasses, and the most accomplished grin across her face. She introduces herself as Tony- or as you may know her: Iron Woman.

And would you and your hulking boyfriend perhaps be interested in a little something called—

Sukuna’s breath hitches.

—The Avengers?

♡ INO TAKUMA - Flash.

“Mr. Flash- Mr. Flash! Just one more question, please…”

“Mr. Flash?” Ino gets a sheepish expression across his face at the esteemed title- one that makes the rest of his team roll their eyes. And he’s turning to the reporter that wastes no time shoving his mic in his face; camera already rolling, news headlines running.

All part of the job—it’s already been an hour since they’ve saved the city (yet again) and they’re still being interviewed, with no sign of it stopping anytime soon. 

And so Ino plasters his camera-ready smile on - the rest of the team might not be as savvy as he was with the media, but he was one of the most popular up-and-coming heroes for a reason. Hah. The people loved him, and he loved the people. He takes the mic from the reporter faster than he can blink, and the man startles out a laugh.

“Woah, did you get that?” He turns uncertainly to the cameraman, who nods though he himself wasn’t too sure. Turning back to the red-clad hero- “You sure are fast. Tell us, Mr. Flash, does this speed affect you in your normal life, too?”

Ino answers, “Well-”

“And what about in the more…intimate aspects?”

He’s somewhat taken aback, “What do you-”

“What about in bed?”

Ino’s jaw has never dropped faster—ironic, isn’t it?

And that reporter leans in with a smile that’s turned wicked - one that said he’s going to get paid a lot of money for this particular clip. “Tell us, Mr. Flash, do you last nothing but a flash in bed?” Those beady eyes then turn to you—not too far away and interviewing another one of his team - ever since the two of you started dating, you’d been careful to not let anything slip about it, going so far as to avoid interviewing him as you once did as a hero reporter.

Though you suppose that some whispers did let slip.

For the man was staring at you, though he asked the question from Ino. “Or perhaps there’s a certain…someone that might know the answer to this question?”

That clip of him open-mouthed and gaping takes over social media within a few minutes - it garnered some strange frenzy of amusement and morbid curiosity. Some defended him fervently against the intrusive reporter, some argued that if one was a hero then they should expect strange questions, others condemned such questions all together- where were the boundaries?

Everyone else argued back.

But most…oh, you could’ve already guessed that most couldn’t help but speculate the real answers for both questions: the bed situation and the ‘certain someone’.

Ino, of course, was bemoaning his haste.

Or at least he would-

But right now he had you splayed-out underneath him and letting him fuck you maddened—the slender length of his cock pistoning in and out of you at a frenzied pace.

“Fuh-fuck-” That pretty, pinkened mouth of his droops open with a wet gasp—and Ino shudders as the ruddied tip of his cock swerves around your insides. Stars burst behind his teary eyelids as he’s sprinklin’ out yet another few droplets of him, trickling it deeeep into the back of your womb as he’s fucking your wet channel through it.

He’s shuddering his hips forwards and locking his knots of seed against the softness of your womb- “Fuck, you’re making me c-cum again, pretty…” And it’s about the fifth time in the past hour that he’s repeating this, “B-but I’m really not a flash in bed, right…?”

Such doe-like eyes stare at you, those long lashes of his glittered in tears. And you can’t help but say, “Mhmmmm—you’re really not, Taku.”

“But then why do you sound like you’re making fun of me?” Those trembling fingertips of his take purchase upon either side of your hips, and Ino’s mahogany brows furrows as he concentrates. “This round- this round, m’gonna prove it to you.”

“Taku, baby, you’re pussydrunk-”

“Even better.”

It’s been hours.

Fucking hours.

And Ino hasn’t stopped ruttin’ himself into the warm wetness of your pussy- he can’t stop himself. 

It’s been too long - at this point he wouldn’t even be able to give you a number - since you’d successfully steered him away from that reporter and accompanied him to his penthouse. Since you’d reassured him that he totally wasn’t too fast in bed and that you definitely did think the sex lasted long enough. 

But still.

He didn’t last a flash in bed.

He really, really didn’t—which is why a young dawn was filtering through the curtains- but Ino Takuma still had his cock lodged thoroughly inside you and was showing no signs of stopping any time soon. He’s reaching down to wrap both your legs around his toned waist, folding you in half n’ kissing your sweaty forehead with his.

But his point was getting harder and harder to prove with every round that he’s fuckin’ you through - bottoming out deeply at the back of your womb, and letting out the prettiest shivers as he feels you clench. “Fuh…oh, fuck.” Uttering mere minutes after he’s started this round, “I-I think m’gonna…”

“What’s that, baby?” You’re reaching up to loop your arms around his neck, tugging the beautiful boy towards you. 

“Nothing.”

Batting your lashes up at him, “Awwww, c’mon- you know you can tell me anything, Taku.”

“I-it’s really nothing.” He insists.

“Hmmm, alright then…” But you knew- oh, you already knew. The more rounds that Ino was plunging you through, the more n’ more pussydrunk that he was growing—the shorter he lasted. Which wasn’t entirely anything bad- you honestly found it cute how it’d only take a few sweet slides down your tight pussy’s channel for Ino to utterly fall apart.

But he’s soon feeling that prickly sensation of his high, and he only starts tunneling between your sopping pussylips even harder. Brows knitting. Fingers digging into your flesh. “M’not gonna cum, sweetness-” He hiccups, “I-I’m not gonna cum, promise-”

“Mhm, I trust you.” You’re coaxing him, “I know you’re gonna last, baby.”

There’s a breathless note in his voice. He looks up at you in surprise, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I know you can handle it- hah.”

Fervently nodding, “Yeah- yeah, and m’gonna make you cum—”

“Mhm—” Lewdly smiling up at him. He’s just so entranced by that sinful expression upon your face that he doesn’t notice the way you’ve planted your feet firmly on the damp mattress- suddenly rolling your hips up into his own. “So why don’t I…help you, my hero?”

“H-help—oh.” Stunned. Cutting himself off with a groan. 

Ino’s eyes squeeze firmly shut, and he’s shaking viscerally at the sudden plap! of your skin hitting against his own. It’s a different kind of burn when it’s you who’s taking control - and even though he’s on top of you, it feels like he’s the one that should be squirmin’ and gasping.

It feels like he should be the one who’s cumming first-

“No—” Ino’s gritting out through clenched canines - there’s a low trundle of something in his tone that sounds like desperation. Before you know it, he’s increasing the speed of his hips—plap! plap! Plap!

That rounded, red tip of his finds the spot of your nerves just perfectly- and Ino doesn’t waste a single second before he’s starting to bludgeon it with his thrusts. So many times that it starts to feel a bit raw.

Pinning you down using the weight of his lower half, Ino digs his right hand instantly between your two trembly thighs. Brushin’ apart your pussylips with a singular swipe of his thumb- your head explodes in so many bursts of pleasure as he starts twiddlin’ with your pretty, plump clit. “No, no, no- don’t think that I don’t know what you’re hck! doing, sweetness.”

Fluttering your lashes innocently, “And what’s that, Taku?”

“D-don’t think that I don’t know you’re trying to make me—” Pausing to let his crowned shaft push into your womb with a resounding squelch! “-cum first.”

“So what if I am, hm?” You counter, “I just really, really love the way it feels when you’re filling me up-”

“I know what you’re doing there, too—” He’s snarling down at you- just so gone on your pussy by now that he likely doesn’t even realize he’s drooling. Those dilated pupils of his bore straight into your own as he angles his hips to constantly bash your poor g-spot, circlin’ every sensitive orifice. “I know what you’re doing- fuck, I know what you’re doing…”

And you can only squeal as the sheer pressure of his cadence increases-

“And I know what I’m doing, too.”

Because if you thought that was fast- then you weren’t ready for just how rapidly Ino’s fingers could make you fall apart. They were just so loooong and pretty, flexible enough to twist your nub in constant circular motions, flexible enough to make you sob.

It doesn’t matter how badly you’re attempting to buck away - Ino keeps his fingers firmly into the wettened crevice between your legs. Twisting his wrist into aaaall sorts of degrees just to see which one made you scream the most- 

“Please—” You’re bawling out after only a few minutes of this, legs shaking. “P-please, that’s unfair-”

“How so?” One amused brow raises. Perspired.

“B-because you’re gonna make me cum-” And to anyone else that would’ve sounded like a petulant complaint, it would’ve even sounded like a sore loser that couldn’t take on the challenge—but Ino knew. And you knew, too. “-using your powers—”

And the superhero can only grin, “So?”

Thrust after thrust.

Roll after sloppy roll of his glued fingertips - they were running your body taut. Without much effort, Ino’s able to make his blushin’ divot massage against your pussy at a rate where his hips almost looked like a blur—not even half of the Flash’s top speed. 

And the fact that he was going easy on you made you huff in complaint.

Without thinking much of it, you’re back to ruttin’ up into him - definitely unable to meet his cadence, but you knew you didn’t have to. 

You already had him wrapped around your little finger.

It takes only a few needy slams of your treacly pussy against his cock - all the way down to his thickened bottom - for Ino to throw his head back and groan. “You’re gonna…fuck, you’re gonna kill me, girl.‘

“Huh? But I didn’t do anything?” In a mock-innocent tone, “I certainly don’t have any powers to use.”

“Did you forget p-pussy power?”

You smirk.

And as he’s increasing his pace, you only have to whimper out his name for Ino to falter- for him to shake his head and continue. And as you’re attempting to gain the upper hand, he only has to buzz your throbbing nub with his electric speed for you to lose your mind. 

Eventually—you think you’re about to cum.

And before you can accept the thought of losing, you’re grabbin’ Ino by his pretty throat and dragging him down to kiss his lips. “C-cum inside me, Taku.”

It’s a tie.

You’re crashing into your high, and Ino’s crashing into his. 

Both the steaming hot pleasure of your orgasm flooding your core- and the few droplets that his overworked cock manages out. Creamy white sap. Thinner than usual—he was fighting not to merely cum blanks. Whimpering. Bucking. Fucking you like a damn animal…You’ve both experienced so many throughout the night that your current waves of bliss rip through you hard and fast.

Though Ino himself wastes no time bumpin’ his crowned cock into every tiny ridge of your wet channel. Scrape-scrape-scraping down the spots where you were most sensitive, and dragging it out for as long as he can.

You’re gasping as it leaves you numb from your toes, pulling his sweat chest against yours. “F-fuck, that feels so good…”

“Yes—fuck, yes.” And as the shudders of your high pass, you feel Ino’s cock grow just a little more limp inside of you- well…for a mere few seconds, that is. 

“T-tie-breaker?” He whines.

.

.

.

The next time the two of you are spotted out together, it’s for an interview. Of course.

In which you’d ‘cornered’ global superhero Flash after yet another one of his successful missions - before any of the other reporters could manage to get their claws on him - with the question they’ve all been asking—“Do you really last as quick as a flash in bed?”

You’re hearing the shocked gasps around you from the other reporters and bystanders. None had dared ask this question so directly since that clip had gone viral - and in the peripheries of your vision you could see that interviewer from before gnawing his teeth at the fact that you’d stolen his limelight. Surely thinking you’d have about as much luck as him, however…

But of course, Ino already knew you were about to ask this. 

His grin stretches underneath his mask as he turns to you, cameras rolling. “I should be asking you that, pretty. Dinner at 7?”

“There you have it, folks.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Spider-Man.

“S-so I guess what I’m trying to say is…” The masked intruder starts, his voice stuttering adorably through his lines. Though adorable as he may be, that doesn’t make you forget the fact that he was a man…tall…well-built…and clearly a crazed fanatic of the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man who’d broken into your dorm—“Uh…I come in peace?”

You’re raising the frying pan in your hands even higher, “I know how to hide a body-”

“O—okay, woah-” He’s immediately taking a few steps back, which you suppose you wouldn’t expect from a dangerous intruder. But then again, maybe he was just new to the job?

If so, he should probably have his pay docked - he was utterly failing at being intimidating. For he’s flattening himself against the window from which he’d entered just a few minutes ago, hands raised in surrender and the whites of his masked eyes widening. Damn, that costume was pretty good…

“I come in peace. I swear I come in peace- I’d just been running from a bad guy, and your dorm just happened to be…the first one I saw? Either way, I promise I’m no danger and I’ll just be on my way now so-” He immediately hastens, “Put…the frying pan…down.”

“Make me.” Raising it even higher, he flinches.

“Okay- oh my god, okay—” It really didn’t take much to make the man surrender at all, immediately giving up on any peace-keeping. He scrambles around the room and you’re worrying that he’s looking for something to challenge your frying pan with- but it seems that he’d just been brainstorming how best to go about with…whatever this is. Because in no time, you’re practically seeing a light bulb go off beside his head, and the man raises his palms as though to brace you.

And you can’t deny it, you found yourself a bit interested. “Um, yes?”

“Get ready- look—” He utters through the web-patterned mask covering his face. “Don’t faint but…”

“But?”

“I’m…Spider-Man.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

You’re assessing the man from head-to-toe—or at least what you could make out of him from the most elaborate cosplay of Spider-Man you’ve ever seen. It could honestly have been impressive if it wasn’t for the fact that he was in your fucking dorm.

But you digress.

“Okay, so do you want the frying pan- or I’ve also got a rolling pin-”

“What? No—no, listen.” The man insists, “I really am Spider-Man- it’s true! You’ve gotta believe me-” Though your deadpan expression gave away just about how much you believed the words that were falling from his masked mouth. And so he’s groaning in frustration, “Look- look, if I just showed you a few tricks would that work? Would that finally prove to you that I’m Spider-Man?”

Unimpressed, you cross your arms. “Go on, then.”

And then the first thing he does is shoot a clingy web from one hand, it launches at an incredible speed and sticks to your ceiling. That’s going to be hell to get out…

“Hm…” You narrow your eyes at him, “Impressive. But I’ve seen better at Party City.”

“That’s not fucking Party Cit- anyways.” He runs a hand down his weary face—or at least what you expect his face to look like beneath that mask. And as soon as you blink, you’re finding this…intruder(?) climbing up your walls. Literally.

All hands on there, glued to it with an invisible adhesive. 

You gape, “That’s not…”

“And how about this? This is even better—” Before you can refute that previous trick, too, this man jerks his head up (or was it considered down? You weren’t quite sure given the way he’d crawled all the way to your ceiling by this point) and basks in the silence for a split-second.

You wondered whether he was actually sensing something or just pulling your leg-

“My spider senses say that your vibrator’s plugged in but it isn’t charging.”

You almost want to throw the frying pan at him. However, you’re managing to tamper down the urge long enough to walk silently to your room and back—fuck it, he’d been completely right. You still sort of want to throw the frying pan at him.

But as though he’d sensed that, too, Spider-Man raises his hands up to cover his head.

So you’re setting it down on your table with a defeated sigh, “Alright, I believe you…Spider-Man. What’re you doing here?”

“Like I said-” He finally lets go of the ceiling and stands in front of you normally now, “-bad guy had been chasing me. That one was just a little…above my paygrade so I had to stall until Iron Woman could get here- which was about five minutes ago. The fight’s still going on, however, and I should probably lay low for now.”

Awkwardly shuffling, “So then…”

“So then if I could just stay here until then, um…”

“Um, sure.”

“Sure.” He twiddles his thumbs, “So- is there anything you’ve wanted to know in particular about Spider-Man?”

You smirk.

.

.

.

“Always wanted to know how—hah, big it is.” Biting down on your lower lip, you’re managing to hold back a pitchy whine as his solid tip enters your hole.

Puckered and plump.

Just the cutest pink- he was the perfect girth and size. 

Big enough to make your entrance quiver just feeling him kiss up against you, slender n’ smooth enough that he’s already starting to eagerly ease inside of you. And as you’re lowering yourself down on him, the superhero grabs onto either side of your ravenous hips like a lifeline—letting out a few ragged swears as he jerks his hips up and thrusts-

“Y-you should know…” He’s wincing at the feeling of your cunt - so hot and wet. Wasn’t this just heaven? 

Turning around to look at him- he’s rather glad you’d chosen a reverse cowgirl position. Because at least then you wouldn’t have seen the way he wiped away fucking tears—sobbing at just the feeling of being inside your wet pussy. “Mhm, spidey?”

“You should know that this is my first time.”

“Oh.”

And with that being said, he’s thumpin’ out the most thorough hit at the very bottom of your pussy. He doesn’t have the experience of just eeeeasing in his incredible length- he’s chasing the back of your cunt like a man starved. 

Like a man in unbearable pain every second he isn’t feeling the hotness of your cervix, the globes of your ass, the sensation of your walls squeezing around him like an embrace. So hot and wet. So sweet. So addictive-

“Addictive?” You’re giggling back at him, “Pussy talking already, huh?”

“I-I don’t even know what that is…” He’s babbling out, voice thicker than before.

And you can’t help but glide your palms down the smoothness of his exposed thighs, feeling every curve and divot of the corded muscle beneath. His body was just to die for - toned but not overly muscular. More like a sleeper build.

And you’re having soooo much fun moving your hips ‘round in all sorts of ways that made his muscles bulge—

“Fuck- fuck.” He’s stupid after just a few strokes. Bucking. Moaning. Hands tugging on the edge of the mask that found itself firmly upon his face, he’s attempting to loosen it and gasping for air-

“You should take that off, too.” You’re turning around and huffing at the sole scrap of fabric that kept you from seeing - what you assumed to be - Spider-Man’s pretty face. The only thing you could see of him were those stray curls of…white? Perhaps they were a super platinum blond? They wrapped around the nape of his neck and slightly leaned towards his jawline, drenched in sweat and flushed right down to his tone pecs.

The way that he’s squirmin’ and letting out the most unfairly erotic grunts every time you’re swallowing him up only left you so much more impatient. So much more impatient. “I s-swear I won’t tell anyone about who you are…fuck, and isn’t it getting super hot in there?”

“It is…” He murmurs, more to himself than anything. “But, what if—”

Peering back at him as he trails off, “What?”

“What if I don’t look how you expect?” 

“It’s the personality that matters.” Nodding in conviction, and then a sly smile stretches across your face at the way that makes his cockhead throb-throb-throb harder inside you. You’re wasting no time before increasing the speed of your hips until your hamstrings scream—“And the cock…heh.”

“S-so filthy.” The hero mutters, “But what if I’m…not your type?”

“Ugh—” Almost rolling your eyes- it was cute just how shy he was, really. But the first thing you’d wanted to do upon finding out that he was the real Spider-Man was to fuck him - so how much of a hint could you really give? “Baby, my type is loser heroes, and I think you fit the bill.”

“Thank y- hey.” 

Just a few more sloppy thrusts - just a few more - and the man beneath you finds himself completely n’ utterly gone from the force of your hips. The sweetness of your cunt. 

The way you’d tighten your legs around him any time he swabbed near your sweetest spots. And he was chasing that particular bundle of nerves with such fervour- he was gasping as he feels himself veering even soooo much closer to the throbbing of your deepest walls- he was reddening the skin ‘round his pelvis through sheer impact. 

And just as he thinks that he couldn’t get even more drunk on the texture of your pussy…

 You’re whimpering out a sweet lil’ echo of his hero name—

And the superhero beneath you lets his head loll behind into the pillows with a groooooan- mouth falling open at the feeling of your cunt surrounding him. Clenching. 

Clamping down, you’re holding him hostage better than any villain ever could.

His heavy balls were nearly full enough to burst- and he’s thinking that he’s gonna cum just as soon as he rams his blushin’ tip almost straight into the target of—

And then his spider senses tell him that your fingers are thinking of reaching for his mask.

But before you can even let the thought come into proper fruition in your mind, he’s taking nothing but a single split second to web your pretty wrists together and flip the two of you over. Just because he’s pussydrunk doesn’t mean he isn’t one of the world’s best superheroes, hm? 

Now fucking you with your face smushed into the pillows, your knees bracing on the mattress. His cock pounding out a single thrust between those sweet, sap-covered pussylips of yours- the hero hits your g-spot instantly.

And that’s all it takes for you to topple right into your high.

Pleasure rushing through your body in waves. Fingertips clenching at the sheer force of it. You’re seeing stars behind your eyes at the sensation- “Sh-shiiiiit—” Perhaps one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your life- and not only was it wound up by a virgin, but the virgin was none other than Spider-Man?!

Jaw dropping open—though it was in slight shock, he’s taking the opportunity to lean and spit.

Making you moan as the gluey wad skids down your tastebuds, “Ohhh, you’re a secret freak, huh?” And though you’d meant it as a half-joke, the hero is leaning his chiselled body dooooown to whisper into the side of your ear. 

“Maybe.”

Then there’s the rustling of fabric.

Of masks being removed, perhaps? It takes your mind a few more moments of him slammin’ his rugged cock inside you to realize…

And then the white-hot feeling of your orgasm coursing through your veins is suddenly overtaken by the realization that Spider-Man - maskless and exposed - was right behind you. Looming. Looking for your reaction, you suppose…you feel a jolt go through your body as you realize that he was waiting for you to turn—bearing all of this for you.

And you wondered what he would look like.

Pretty, sure.

Slightly nerdy—perhaps, he never struck you as the jock type.

Someone sweet. Someone kind. 

Maybe that was just your wishful thinking.

You turn around and there he is - Gojo Satoru. You fucking knew him—he went to your university. The white-haired ace of the Physics Department; always roaming around campus with his textbooks or camera, always with his head buried and rarely meeting anyone’s eyes, always in the library to the extent that he might as well have been part of the furniture. 

Always with his camera lens pointed at you, though he doesn’t think you saw him enough to notice.

But of course, you saw him.

Of course, you saw him.

He’s the boy you’ve had a crush on since freshman year.

Gojo doesn’t meet your eyes now, either. He’s without his thick-rimmed glasses and has to squint just a little bit, looking self-consciously down at himself and fuck- you have to resist the urge to beg for missionary then and there just so that you can stare into his deep, azure eyes as he fucks you.

Instead, you just say- “Did you know that nerds are also my type?”

He beams brighter than the sun.

.

.

.

The next time you’re beside Gojo Satoru, it’s hand-in-hand and entering your next lecture. 

You could feel the stares, the gasps, the whispers.

The nerd of the physics department, and one of the most popular girls on campus- or at least, that’s what Gojo claimed. Professor Yaga himself lets his bushy brows raise just the slightest inch once he spots the two of you—and it makes your nerdy boyfriend blush right now to his ivory roots.

“Sweetheart—” He’s whispering to you, “How about we swing around the city today? Promise I’d never let you drop.”

You smile, “I’d love to, Toru.”

Oh, you can imagine that the Daily Bugle is going to go into haywire. 

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Daredevil.

“Do you trust me, angel?”

You can’t keep the smile off of your face, “Who would I trust if not the best lawyer in Tokyo? Maybe even the world?”

“Why only maybe?” Higuruma smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges—just barely visible past the frames of his sunglasses. Your boyfriend was just so handsome when he was in his work clothes: one amongst the many crisp suits he often wore to court, hair slicked back n’ not a single strand out of place, his cane by his side. But he continues, “You know how I’m a…lawyer of sorts?”

“Oh really? I had no idea.” You jest.

“How about we try something tonight, my angel…” And as you’re peering down at him in curiosity, Higuruma starts to loosen his tie just the slightest bit—and you’re suddenly understanding what he means. “How about a simulation of this aspect, though in a far lighter tone?”

Your jaw drops, “R-roleplay?”

.

.

.

“Denied.”

“Hiromi, baby—”

“The court finds you guilty on all counts of seduction.” Higuruma’s deep baritone rasps down at you, punctured only by the slamming of his gavel on his desk. Bang! Bang! Bang! Those pressurized vibrations send shockwaves down your own body, and the lawyer’s grin stretches as he watches you affected by such a thing.

How cute…he couldn’t stop but let your orgasm edge for the nth time tonight.

Edging you.

It’s later into the night, you’re spread out across Higuruma’s neat work desk- your back against the frigid texture of the mahogany, your front arching into his own. He presses his suit-clad front against your naked tits—the harsh texture of his heroic suit - as per your request - rubbin’ against your nipples n’ sending you into an absolute frenzy. 

He was such a tease.

Grinning as though he knew exactly what he was doing- even though the tone of his voice speaks of nothing but faux innocent. The lawyer speaks, “You’re moving around so much- something wrong, sugar?”

“A-absolutely nothing.” You’re managing to echo out.

“Good.” Higuruma utters, pure devilish desire in his tone. And he doesn’t need to say his next words for you to already know where this was heading- after all, one of his hands reaches for where his gavel was upon the table - using his radar sense - and the other presses down on your hips.

Right above where his thickened length was pressed between your pussylips—Higuruma feels his hand down upon your stomach as he sinks himself inside. The throbbing, cylindrical intrusion of his cock glissading inside- “Because we’re having a retrail.”

And then the gavel comes down right on top of the wooden desk.

It creaks and nearly splinters—but all you can think of is the way that Higuruma was fuckin’ his rotund tip into you as though there was no tomorrow. He wasn’t wasting a single second.

Court time was precious, y’know?

So you best believe that Higuruma had your hips pinned down with his own powerful ones, the scritch-scratching of his tufted happy trail rendering you stupid. Fucking you in hard, purposeful thrusts - each one aimed precisely for where you were most sensitive.

His swabbin’ thrusts didn’t just hit deeeeep into the back of your pussy, but your boyfriend was ending up pressing against your sweetest orifices, your soft roof, the door to your womb—dragging his thumb down the knob of your clit.

With those honed senses of his, you’re lasting barely two pumps of his accurate cock before he’s locating your g-spot—fuck.

And giving it the most merciless strike ever.

He knew where it was from the slurping sounds of your cunt - the way they’d grow just a little damper as he headed for that one spot, he knew where it was from the counts of your breathing - how you’d let them grow a bit more ragged as he veered his cocktip even closer, he knew where it was from the smell of your cloying slick—growing even wetter n’ more drenched in honey as you’d find yourself spearheaded by him. 

Rough.

“State your name.”

And so the trail commences.

You’re doing so as he says- a monumental task given the way that Higuruma’s greedy hips don’t stop taking you for a single second. In fact, he’s kissin’ your g-spot at a constant pace and seeming to only ask you questions when he knows you’ll be affected by the sudden bursts of pleasure. 

“State your age.”

Your mouth opens. But instead of your age, comes out a jumbled mess of pleads and his name—because just then, Higuruma had reached his dominant hand down and pinched your pretty, puffy clit. So needy that you’re trickling out wads of slick from between your pussylips.

Your hole’s clenching so thoroughly around him that he almost has to falter, too. “Now, now…” Tutting - and you knew that that was never a good sign when it comes to lawyers, but especially Higuruma. “Is that a refusal to testify? I’m afraid this won’t help your case, my angel.”

“I-it’s not…” Hot tears run down your cheeks - and in response, he’s only squeezing your poor clit even harder. “Promise I’ll tell you.”

And it’s only after you’re finishing your response - syllable after syllable - that Higuruma finally lets go of your sensitive nub. That too with such a level of reluctance—if you hadn’t known any better, then you’d have said that that was a sullen pout slashed across his lips as Higuruma lets go of that sultry appendage.

His fingers instead slide uuuuuup and down your wettened crevice- the perfect feeling of where his throbbing cock kept on pumping in n’ out. Higuruma’s lips slightly part as he touches upon the sheer difference in girth, in the way that your cunt was struggling to keep all of him bulging inside of you and yet you were still yearning for more. “Hmmm, state your crimes now.”

“I-”

“Not you.” Higuruma interrupts, “I’m calling up another witness.”

And yet, there was no other witness - at least not that you could see. And surely you weren’t that dumbified yet that you couldn’t conjure up the vision of someone else here when—there was clearly no one else here.

None but you, your boyfriend, and…your pussy.

Higuruma Hiromi - the best lawyer in Tokyo - had his head leaned lovingly down and his brows furrowed as he listened to the precious sounds of your pussy. As if he was deeeeep in the middle of the conversation, understanding every single slurp, squelch, and the most sultry gulps as yet another inch of him is being swallowed.

All of it reaches his ears like music. And he hums as he feels the sound of it send shivers through his very being- “Ahhh, I see…” Straightening up, he leers down at you. “My witness states that your crime is seduction.”

“G-guilty…or wait- no.”

“Guilty?” Higuruma questions in faint amusement, “Do you admit to the charged and- hah, forfeit your right to an orgasm?”

“No—” Whining out needily, “No, please- I need to cu-”

“Objection, hearsay.” He cuts through you coolly - through his cock was rutting into you in a way that was anything but. “You do not need an orgasm, angel. But does the defendant believe that she deserves one?”

“Y-yes.” You shamefully admit.

“Does the defendant believe that she is guilty of the crimes of seduction?”

“Yes-”

“Does the defendant believe that she is worthy of a second chance, however?”

Arching your back into his. “Of course.”

“Hm…we might have to settle this with a jury.“ Those dark brows of his furrow, between them a perspired bead of sweat tracks down his forehead. And it doesn’t take long for your smart boyfriend to know just whom to ask—before you know it, he’s veering his head down and using his super-heightened senses to listen to every single sound of your pussy.

To listen to your arousal.

To smell it- just so sweet.

To let his brain come to a conclusion—“The jury has come to a unanimous decision.”

Your heart jumps to your throat.

“All counts- not guilty.” And then with a few more fervent rolls on top of your throbbing clit, Higuruma drags you all the way to the precipice of your high and—and this time - just this time - he actually lets you topple over the edge. 

Straight over it.

White-hot flashes. Warmth filling you up like a flood.

It starts from the tips of your toes and then shoots all the way up to your poor, sparking brain. The superhero grins as tears track down your cheeks at the final release that you’re been waiting so long for, and he grins as you’re shaking through wave after wave of your high. “Good-” You’re gurgling out cutely, “S-so good-”

Head dropping back against the pillows.

The rounded edge of his cock shovels in as he’s bursting your high through you wildly—

“What can I say?” He hums, “I’m a really good lawyer.”

A/N. Confession time: Higu and Kuna’s ones were the hardest to do because I’ve never watched Hulk or Daredevil WHOOPS-

But perhaps that was too much for an introduction to your next-door neighbor, no? That was probably more of a second meeting thing- hah. And so you’d hastened to explain that you were actually the new tenant, handing over the bundle of cookies that you’d baked for the residents you were close to.

And Toji had looked at the cookies, and at you….and at the cookies…and at you- before ultimately sticking his head outside and glancing down the hallway - as if to make sure that this really wasn’t some superior marketing tactic. 

And yes, he really had just gotten free cookies.

Finally, he raised a dark brow at you and smiled - or at least what you imagined was a semblance of a smile. Just the slightest quirk of his scarred lips. “Heh…we’ll get along. Nice to meetcha, I’m Fushiguro Toji.”

And just then, Fushiguro Megumi had made an entrance at the wafting smell of freshly-baked treats. Immediately tugging the bag out of the man’s hands and taking it for himself-

You promised Toji that you’d make another batch for him.

And so you did. And so you baked, you accompanied Toji shopping, you helped him move away from giving poor Megs instant ramen for dinner all the time—you even got to bake in their kitchen when your oven once broke down. 

Thus. After a few months, Saturday nights often looked like an amalgamation of both your previous routines; with you ignoring your manager’s overtime phone calls to put on your favorite show and indulge in some selfcare. Toji with his pen out and his eyes squinting at the latest jockey racing results- dammit, Haru Urara lost again. 

Down the hall, Megumi was fast asleep.

All in his apartment.

You can’t remember the last time you’d wound down in your own- but before you can consider what that meant…Toji’s throwing his pen down. He heaves himself up from the brightly-lit dining table to sit down beside you—gaze narrowing at the half-shitty soap opera you’d put on to pass the time. “What…the hell is that?”

“A show.” You retort.

“I get that- hah, you think m’stupid?” Toji rolls his sage green eyes. And before you can reply with something smart, he’s gesturing half-heartedly at the screen before him. “I mean- why the hell is there so much…crying and moaning.”

Your gaze snaps to the quickly-shifting scenes on-screen, “That is, uh…” In the few seconds you’d looked away to scour Toji’s library for a book that wasn’t a sports magazine or a Haru Urara fanbook, it seems the plotline on the TV had taken…a far more different route. “Sex.”

“You think I fucking don’t know what’s-” As you’re laughing your head off, Toji cuts himself off and pinches the top of his nosebridge. Surely to ward off his oncoming headache.

You always did do that to him. In the best way.

And after a deep breath, he gestures idly at the screen once more. Or more specifically: the way the love interest’s eyes widen in shock, mouth dropping as he looks between where they were connected. He’s saying something that makes you still, “Why is he talking about…cumming dry? There’s no way that’s fuckin’ real.”

“It is?” You’re peering at him in confusion. “It literally is?”

Toji crosses his beefy arms, “No way.”

“You’re going to argue with science, Toji?”

“M’just saying- it’s never happened to me.” He retorts.

And the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them- “…Is that a challenge?” You regret them as soon as they’re entering the tense air, making the older man stiffen beside you—

And you’re just about to apologize and bow yourself out of the awkwardness when-

“Oh you can fucking try.”

It’s how you find yourself being guided to Toji’s single bedroom - no matter how many times you’ve been in his apartment, you’ve strayed far from here - and sprawled out on his vast mattress. Legs straddling his hips. Hands braced on his pecs.

You’re grabbing a nice feeling of them and it makes the beefy man groan. He’s peering up at you through his jet-black bangs, only half-covering his smoldering gaze. “So…? I’m fucking hot, yeah, but you’re just gonna stand there ogling me or…”

“So humble, too.” You scoff.

And then you’re fiddling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants to take his thiiiiick, reddened tip in a single swoop - or at least try to. He grins, “Yeah. And don’t forget big.”

.

.

.

Toji Fushiguro fucks you - or it’s more like you’re on top n’ bouncing your hips down onto him - so that you won’t forget it.

So that you’re feeling the lil’ twinge of pressure between your legs once you’re walking out of this damn room, so that you’re feeling the remnants of his cum glued creamily to your pussy. It better feel empty without him in there - and Toji has one palm of his pressed up against your gaping mouth, so that you won’t wake Megumi.

And the other one of his was latched your left hip.

Gripping lovingly onto the flesh there and lurching your hips up and down—faster and faster. Moving. Manhandling. Because with just a few strokes of his sheer girth, you’re seemingly dickmatized.

And leaving it aaaaaall up to Toji to guide n’ prod.

To angle your hips in figure-eights so that he can feel his cum swirling inside. Stirring it with his glistening cock. “Atta girl.” Toji gruffs out at the feeling of being utterly slathered by your walls. “And what was that about cumming dry? Hah- because m’still rock-hard and the only one having trouble here is you—”

“You’re trouble.” You huff.

“Not what I said.” He snickers. Before his handsome face leans upwards and licks off a stray tear dangling from your cheek, “But you’re lucky you’re- hck! cute. And how many rounds was that, huh, doll?”

“Six.”

“Good. And how many rounds have I cum dry?”

“Zero…” Huffing at the smug look on his face- oh, how you wanted to wipe that off. Oh, how you wanted to make him eat his words—and perhaps without even realizing it, you’re jerking your hips stubbornly back and forth.

It wasn’t matching up to the controlled place that he was slammin’ away at the back of your cervix- but it sure was something.

Your velvety walls were utterly drenched in Toji’s hot cum by now - and that just made it so much easier for you to ground your feet into the mattress n’ take him. All of him. All of those crude, curved inches of him that opened you up perfectly—“B-but don’t think that you’re gonna get off that easily.”

“Oh yeah?” A moan hatches at the back of his throat- botched exhales. “And what’s different about this time, huh?”

“This time-” Fuck, Toji’s grin spreads in a feline way across his face. He was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, vision just a little blurred from pleasure, and there was an almost…wolfish hunger in them that makes you answer- “This time I don’t have enough space.”

And that makes one of his brows raise, “Hah?”

“I said it.” To emphasize your point, you’re parting your thighs just a little—almost difficult with the way his sap had them glued together. The milky-white ribbons of Toji’s cum leakin’ out of your poor pussy, so much of it that it’s dripping down and making his black curls there glisten. “Look…”

Toji’s pants slightly quicken at the sinful sight.

“Next time, you better not cum so much again- or else s’not gonna fit.”

Scoffing, he runs a thumb freely between your pussylips- and pushes in a few of the escaping wads. “And what if I just…make it fit.” Along with the fat edge of his thumb. “Juuuust like this.”

You’re wracking with shivers at the sudden intrusion, “What- cock so sensitive you can’t stop cumming?” Though you really liked it - with how much he was flooding your cunt every time - and he knew it, too.

“Pussy so whiny she can’t handle one more?”

“You wish.” 

And that’s earning you a good spankin’ on top of your pussylips.

One. Two. Three.

Without pause. Soon, your cunt’s feeling utterly raw in the aftermath—and you’re clinging onto Toji’s firm deltoids for dear life. 

But that didn’t mean you were going to back down anytime soon.

No…instead, you’re using the sudden grip to steady your weakened hips. With your two knees squeezing either side of his obliques, and your back arched into a curvature that makes his mouth water - you’re meeting Toji’s sloppy pace. Pushing him back down by the shoulders and taking over the sloppy pace—

Toji’s tipping over onto the pillows now. You’re smack-smack-smacking your hips down onto his at a jackhammerin’ cadence - faster than even he was, perhaps…

And it’s that fact that makes him breathe, “O-oh, okay.” Toji’s unsure where to put his hands- so you’re swiftly taking them into yours and making him puuuuush down on your bloated stomach. The wads of his cum glisten down your thighs, catching the dim lighting of the bedroom. “This is new.” Never has anyone ever tried to take charge of him.

And there was something so hot about it.

Something so irresistible about that determined set of your brow. The way you’re ruined on his cock and attempting to desperately make him even more so. The way you’re squeezing your cunt so tightly around his length—dragging your walls down it. And up. And down.

Your hamstrings ache as you ride. Your pussy’s grabbin’ him all over from the veeeeery crowned top- and then down to his thickened hilt.

Milking him is the only expression he can use to describe the motion.

“New as in…” You’re feeling the smile stretch across your face, milking Toji’s cock was all he was worth. Your hips accelerate. “-going-to-make-you-cum-dry sort of new? Or?”

Another spank- this time, right on your clit. “D-don’t get ahead of yourself.”

Pushing him down from attempting to take control of the pace once more. You’re throwing your head back and riiiding out his erection the way you like it - “M’just saying…you just stuttered.” His breath hitches at your response- “So victory might be closer than I thought.”

“I…”

“Awww. Is the big, bad Toji Fushiguro speechless for once?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

But, truly, he could feel the pressurized build-up at the base of his cock. Starting off small. Starting right above where his balls were twitchin’ and aching - and then moving up, up, uuup every single inch to angrily throb at his tip.

Furious, furious.

It had barely even started yet, and somehow Toji already knew that it was something different from all those orgasms that came before it. And so he’s clenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth as he feels it overcoming him—

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s out-of-breath just from the first wave. And desperately - pathetically - Toji’s hoping to anything that’d listen that it wasn’t a dry orgasm. He’s pleading. He’s mentally on his knees and begging-

And then…with a sudden buck of his hips Toji’s round, blushin’ cockhead strikes the bottom of your pussy. It’s then that he’s realizing that perhaps manifesting really doesn’t work for some old bastard like him- because he doesn’t even have to feel the contrasting wetness of your cervix to already know. 

To realize that though his bliss was searing through his body in waves-

His cock was dribbling out absolutely nothing.

Six rounds and he’d finally lost it.

The rush of his orgasm coursing through him, accompanied by the inexplicable emergence of nothing more. His achingly hot tip can do nothing more than stick deep into your pussy n’ swerve around the bundled-up wads of cum there. Not adding. Not taking.

Horny embarrassment mingles with his broken pride; and Toji clenches his jaw as he peers up at you—you and that damn accomplished smile.

You’re fluttering your lashes innocently down at him- “Yes, Toji? Got anything else to say about cumming dry?”

“No…” He reluctantly admits. Before spitting out -“What else does that TV show have?”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10 rounds.

You didn’t expect your husband to be anything but a gentleman.

Who would?

Nanami Kento was the epitome of everything one would want their partner to be; he was sweet, he was patient, he was intelligent in many ways—but most of all, emotionally. He loved you at your best and he loved you when you didn’t feel so - and thus, he was the man that stood before you at the altar. 

Donned in a dark hakama. Blond hair slicked back. 

Rose-gold ring glistening on one hand. 

Stating vows to love one another from here onwards and forevermore; and he’s never meant anything more. Nothing has been truer in his entire life.

The celebrations were uproarious- not from Nanami’s end, but rather from your elated friends. Your new husband sat beside you silently during the reception, making sure you were eating well and that the air conditioning at the venue wasn’t too cold—though when he did get a few beers in him, he kept whispering from a scandalously close proximity how beautiful those robes looked on you…how much better it might look off—

You remember during this time that Shoko had tottered by - held up by weary Utahime - and blessed the two of you ten times over. Ultimately clapping Nanami on the shoulders and telling him to take good care of you.

And to not disappoint you on your wedding night-

But that was around the time that Utahime had decided that your brown-haired friend had taken one too many vodka shots. No chasers. 

And she’d dragged her away whilst you and Nanami sat hot-under-the-collar in your seats. Avoiding much eye contact - because surely most could guess what was bound to happen at the end of the reception, the farewell. 

And so had come the wedding night.

.

.

.

The two of you had barely made two steps into your five-star wedding suite before the expensive wedding clothes were falling to the floor.

And Nanami’s gotten you pressed into the most delicious full nelson on top of the rose petal-covered mattress. Cock heavy and hard. Those crimson flowers forming a heart underneath your two tangled bodies, and Nanami’s cock echoing the most lewd slurps n’ squelches.

It’d only gotten louder throughout the night- as Nanami swabbed the droplets of his creamy white cum inside you. Just married and he was already stuffing you full—

Four hours and hours. Making you cum through each one. 

As a gentleman should, of course.

You think it’s around the tenth or so round when your head’s tipping stupidly backwards - resting against his firm collarbone - as Nanami’s burnished red cocktip rams into your g-spot again. Glued using a few webs of his seed, it’s a carnal sensation that sets your teeth on edge, and the blond-haired man crushes you close—

“Sh-shit…” You’re keening out, voice taking on a shrill pitch. “Kento- oh, ngh—” Barely able to speak through the loooong, thorough thrusts that he was planting inside you. “I n-never knew you could be so…”

Another hard slam! that leaves your ears ringing. And Nanami’s tone husked to almost nothingness as he asks, “Yes, my love—?”

“Rough.” Crying out.

Though they were cries of utter pleasure- of wanting him to continue. Because in the years that you’ve known him, Nanami Kento has never fucked you like this—has never fucked you the way he was hammerin’ mean strokes into you on your wedding night. Harsh plap! after plap! of skin-on-skin.

Of his stinging pink pelvis pushing into yours.

And your husband moves at a carnal pace - muddled brain unable to process anything more - once he feels your limp hips slippin’ out from above him. Covered in a thin layer of sweat and slick leaking like a waterfall between your glossy pussylips. “Sh-shit, Kento, m’gonna…”

“I’ve got you, my love.” Nanami wraps his bulky arms underneath both legs and hauls you upwards. 

“Oh…” Your jaw drops, “You’re just moving me so easily.”

He merely chuckles at your cuteness- were you cockdrunk already?

And once you’re in proper position, laid out on top of the toned line of Nanami’s abdomen, he gently removes his arms. You’re almost disappointed at the massage of his flexing muscles- but before you can miss him too much, your newly-wed husband has them latched onto you again.

This time, in a headlock. 

Left arm looped around your pretty throat.

Right arm slithered between your legs and squeezing your clit immediately.

You buck up at the sudden burst of pleasure- stars behind your eyes. Moans ready at the tip of your tongue—

“Shhhh shh shh, I wouldn’t want whoever’s next door to hear my- haaaah, beautiful wife’s sounds. I’m a protective man, darling.” He murmurs throatily behind you, “Unless it’s that new last name of yours.”

So gone by the way his round, throbbing tip was bulldozing into you until your toes curled- “N-new last name…?” It’s taking you a little while to register it.

But Nanami Kento always was a patient man, wasn’t he? And so he’s simply nodding, leaning down and spittin’ straight between your pretty lips to claim that mouth as his own- and his as yours. Of course. “Your last name.” He responds. “Mrs. Nanami.”

The mere sound of it is enough to make you shudder—“Oh.”

“Or…your last name is mine, too.” Nanami hums to himself- now so utterly gone on the idea of it all. Of marriage. Of the fact that you’re his wife - his wife. He tightens his headlock and kisses your temple gently, “It’s actually why m’a little more…rough, today, my love. You’ll have to forgive me.”

“I l-like it.” You’re replying, “And this is all because of- hngh, our wedding night, Kento?”

“Not quite.”

And you’re feeling cum glue to your cervix as you’re bucking downwards- but of course, your husband would never keep you waiting long. With a simple kiss to that wedding ring you were wearing, he raises your left hand up, up, upwards—to grip at his golden tresses. You’re going to need it.

Because in the next few seconds, Nanami then plants his feet further flatly on the mattress and drills his cock up into you. Tunneling. Mazing. Bashing his ruddied tip against every sweet spot.

He was fucking you like he hated you - and the creaking bedsprings would agree - but oh, how he loved you so.

The sheer amount of pleasure that courses through you was almost numbing.

And without further ado, you’re babbling out the sweetest whimpers n’ whines of his name. Nanami’s breath fanning your face hotly as he leans in and whispers—“It’s because you’re my wife.” 

Lightning strikes you to your very core.

You could feel your high imposing. 

Nanami’s honed canines nip at your earlobes, “It’s the same but not-” He continues, throat growing more n’ more ragged with grunts, the more the thrusted inside. “It’s what I’ve been dreaming for this entire time- fuck, but it’s…so…so much better.” Voice shattering at this very moment. “Darling, it’s like I can’t stop.”

And he fully meant it.

You’re clawing at the beefy expanse of his forearms as he accelerates, your high starting to shoot and crackle with no end-

“I’ve tried.” Nanami’s voice sounds hollow, echoing with something far more primal than you’ve ever heard of him. And hit thrusts- oh, his strikes were so toe-curling. “I’ve tried—but I just can’t seem to. I’ve told myself, I’ve made myself…” The most sinful squelch! wrenches from your pussy as he rolls over your clit and makes you cum once more, “But no matter how hard I try…I just can’t seem to stop wanting to cum inside my wife’s pussy.”

“K-Kento—” Your back arches- lights flashing behind your eyes. “Inside- please.”

“That’s exactly the problem.” He sounds like a man maddened. “I need to see this pussy drippin’ wet with my cum.” You’re shivering as he runs the flatness of his thumb between your cunt’s folds, just so sensitive that the barest graze leaves electricity zapping through your body. “Nine time- nine fucking times-” He rarely swore. “-and I still feel the urge to watch her try to gulp me up. To watch her overspill. To feel her soppin’ wet right down to the womb—”

Breathless with need. “Then do it, husband…”

“I can’t help myself.”

And then Nanami’s cumming.

Like he’d always planned to, of course. But the only problem was that this time - the tenth - he’s feeling nothing but the smallest trickle of cum. Just the faintest few ounces.

And then nothing more- although it feels like he’s still pouring out as much as it takes to flood you. 

It hits him instantly that he’s cumming dry.

And Nanami’s mouth drops, blond lashes fluttering just a bit as he takes in the situation. No matter how many times he was draaagging his vein-covered cock in and out of your channel, it only left him as dry and overstimulated as ever. 

Tears pricking behind his eyes, Nanami gasps. “This feels like a-a premonition…”

“Of?” You blink.

“The fact that this night’s not over yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 8 rounds.

“Please- ngh—” The sound that leaves you is far too pitiful for your reputation. How could you have ever thought…“P-please, I beg of you-”

“Oh? You beg of me, hm?” Geto’s words were just dripping with amusement, and his smile presses up against your throat. Clammy. Pulse thundering. That beautiful long hair of his was completely untied and falling over the sides of your body, strands tickling down your arched back- it was like a cloak of night. And so was the firebending master.

You’re throwing your head back and keening—“More.”

“You beg more of your enemy?”

What treason. What treachery.

How did you even get here?

You could blame all the training; all the long nights and the countless days spent by the water, the feeling of power rippling through your body as you mastered it. It was no secret that the Fire Nation and the Water Nation were at war.

These were the days that would end up as history, after all.

But you just wondered whether this battle would…between one of the best of the Water Nation - you - and the Fire Prince himself. Geto Suguru. 

Announced as next-in-line to the throne. The man your age with a fear-striking reputation that ran far and deep. And treacherous. 

It was a siege planned by the group of rebels you were a part of, and it was simple: attack the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace and end their bloodline once and for all. And for that, you’d have to take care of the prince himself.

Little did you know that what had begun as a one-on-one fight between the two of you at highly close quarters would turn into something….else entirely. As you’d straddled him during combat and prepared to call upon your powers - chest heaving, eyes locked - you had no idea who leaned in first. You had no idea which one of you was the first traitor.

And so here you were…

Knees digging into the hard floor of the Fire Nation’s Imperial Dojo, mouth slobberin’ out lungfuls of moans. Your head throwing backwards and hitting the prominent collarbones of none other than your sworn enemy—Geto Suguru.

Who was fucking his hard, red-hot cock into you like he hated you.

And he probably did.

And yet…and yet- he can’t stop himself from lunging his needy hips forwards and slamming French kisses into the back of your cervix. Those nice, gooey depths that welcomed him with such fervour it almost made him laugh. But despite how bemusing it might be, Geto knows he should stop. He knows he needs to adhere to his duties…but here he was again.

And again and again.

Runnin’ on his seventh round, where he’s ruggedly pulling his vein-covered cock in and out of you. He fucked mean. And he was only getting meaner as he cranes his neck forwards, digging his pearly white canines into the crook of your neck.

Harder and harder.

“N-ngh…” It’s just barely-there. Sneakily, Geto muffles that broken noise emanating from the back of his throat - meanwhile, you’re left moaning once his hot sap starts to fill your cunt up once more.

Just the cutest few drops - drooling - before he immediately pulls out and sprays those satiny ribbons down your outer pussy. Coating a few milky-white layers on top, he then rubs his swollen n’ sap-glossed tip uuuuup and down your pussylips; a few times before plunging back in again. “M-more…”

It’s so quiet and pitchy that he barely hears it. But Geto Suguru wasn’t the nation’s fiercest warrior for nothing- “Pardon?” Those amethyst eyes of his widen at your request. It took a lot to surprise the Fire Prince, but now…he’s leisurely blowing the jet-black bangs out of his face to peer at you. “Repeat that.”

“Is that a command?” You bite.

And what you’re getting in response is a quick swat on your left ass cheek. Geto’s trained fingers were purposefully increasing their body temperature, leaving his imprint sizzling on your skin—“It is.” That chiselled body of his leans his weight even further down on you, massaging you with smooth, perspired abs. His long tendrils tickle your neck, “And what do you have to say to that, smallfry?”

“I say…” You’re whispering.

Leaning down even closer- practically pinning you beneath him. “Mhmmmm?”

“Fuh-fuck you.” 

You weren’t repeating a single thing.

Turning your head ‘round to spit at him. Right across his face.

Except; Geto Suguru anticipates this very moment to leave his unfairly pretty lips ajar and let you spit in his mouth. Straight into his mouth. You’re watching in slow-motion as the glittery wad enters past his maw, getting smeared as the firebender then crashes his lips onto yours.

Such a filthy, filthy kiss. 

You’re moaning deep into his mouth Geto roves his hips back n’ starts prodding even harder. Even harder. With the red, spherical tip of his cock—he enters your womb and lingers for a bit. “Now…” Another slap. “That isn’t a very nice thing to say, princess.”

You gasp. He knew. 

That lineage you’d fought to keep hidden, for years upon years as you trained and grew stronger, noticed so easily by the prince himself…

Two royals tangled in something you couldn’t discern from passion and a fight.

Geto’s smile spreads against your mouth, and his hands come pummeling down in a rapidfire smack-smack-smack on your ass cheek. Temperature raising at the tips of his fingers. It’s practically sizzling- “What? Cock got your tongue?”

Another smack on your cunt. “Shut up.”

“Tha’s alright- you don’t have to answer me.” He croons. Dragging out with the tip of his tongue- and his cock, the sheer sensitivity of your pussy means that now even the slightest hit at your g-spot makes you jump—

Only for Geto to drag you backwards with a single arm wrapped around your throat. His bulky forearm bulges as he traps you in a headlock; and you’re just starting to ogle his muscles as he rams and rams his trained hips into you. Accelerating. Dragging it down your walls even faster- “But there is just one question I need to find out the answer to.” And that hand of his comes spankin’ down even harder. Smoothing along your ass cheek, “Can the Water Princess squirt—?”

“Fuh-fuck.” He was ruthless. If you thought that Geto was fucking you mean earlier, then you weren’t ready for right now. Your hands claw at the flooring before you, “No sooner than the Fire Prince can cum dry.”

It was the eighth round now and the both of you were gone.

With his hips pinning you down to the dojo ground. His headlock tighter than ever- veiny and muscular. The plump head of his cock drills into you so rapidly that it was nearly nothing but a blur of pink—in and out. In and out. 

Geto’s making it a few more sharp thrusts before he feels pleasure coiling at the pit of his stomach. And he can’t have that - of course he can’t cum before who’s supposed to be his mortal enemy - so he squeezes his hand between your legs n’ rolls over that oversensitive nub with two fingers. Powerful fingers—his heat was sizzling, a carnal sensation that you couldn’t even begin to describe.

You yelp.

And though you couldn’t exactly call on your waterbending at the moment, you’re still able to jerk your hips back n’ meet Geto’s thrusts. 

Fucking him just as angrily as he was fucking you.

Again and again.

The dojo grounds around you two rumble as though the most passionate fight, before your head throws back and you’re feeling your orgasm hurtling into you. And without thinking twice, you’re reaching underneath your body and grazing Geto’s aching, pistoning cock- just the slightest wisp of your waterbending power…being used to make your fingertips cold.

Cold to the touch.

Cold to contrast against his furiously hot cock.

With a flinch- you’re both tumbling into your highs.

“Fuck- oh…fuck.” You—with your cunt soakin’ itself in the excess of your orgasm. Dopamine coursing through your veins and your eyes fluttering shut- your peripherals sprint to the back of your head. And your toes curl…“I can feel you cumming dry, Suguru.”

“Sh-shut up.”

And so he was—his cockhead was flinching like he’d been spurting out ribbony wires of cum, his balls were clenching…and yet there was nothing. It wasn’t like the previous rounds when you had your deepest depths splashed in a sudden warmth- Geto, this time, was simply emptying out nothing.

Still fucking you ravenously through it-

“Cumming dry.” Elongating his wave of bliss. Rammin’ into your g-spot like a button, just so you could feel the slightest bit of the overstimulation he was. Almost laughing to himself, “You really fucking made me cum dry-”

“Problem, Fire Prince?”

“Not at all, Water Princess.”

And once he’s finally feeling it bate - his shaft having pumped out nothing throughout its entire duration - Geto presses his face into the crook of your neck and moans.

“Best of three then?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 3 rounds.

“Baby, I just…” Choso’s tone quivers, something deep and dark seeping into his words. They seemingly erupt from the back of his throat, against his own will, and hang in the air like a sudden spritz of perfume—

Wait…you swear you’re smelling actual perfume.

Brows furrowing. Turning your nose upwards, you take in the fleeting flowery scent; before looking over your shoulder at where your boyfriend was standing.

It was a slow, sleazy weekend: time for just the two of you. The honks of cars were winding down, and sunset dripped from Tokyo city’s roofs and foliage. The only time when Choso was allowed to refuse the missions that the higher-ups foisted upon him, and when you could decline your manager’s calls without feeling even the slightest bit of guilt.

Instead. He was supposed to help you bake cookies today, he was supposed to be padding into your shared kitchen n’ press a sweet, sweet kiss to your cheek - then insist he take over as he always does. He was supposed to be…not this. Whatever this was. 

Leaned against the dooframe. Head dropped. Hair loose. Breaths coming out in gusts. Choso had his Brother Bear t-shirt off and his bare chest flushed—damp with perspiration. It’s as though he’d been taken over by a sudden fever, ravaging through him, radiating heat through every single pore. Making his rosy cheeks flush even rosier as he jerks his dark, glazed eyes up to look at you.

And a sudden jolt goes through the both of you-

“Choso…?” You’re cautiously taking a step towards him- to which he’s surprising you by taking a step back. “Baby, what happened?”

“I-I just—” His voice hatches and cracks. Urgently clawing at himself. “Remember how I wasn’t feeling too well in the morning?”

You nod, taking another step closer.

He scratches behind his neck - movements torrid and heavy. Lethargic. “So I took a nap, and when I woke up it was just feeling…” Almost subconsciously, Choso’s hands snake down to the drawstrings of his sweatpants- fuck. And it’s just then that you’re registering the throbbing, aching bulge between his long legs. “-hot.”

Wordlessly, you’re looking at the calendar propped up on one end of the kitchen counter. Ah—the realization makes your lips part. Today’s date sticks out like a jagged nail, or - more accurately - like a…

Your gaze flickers back down to where Choso mindlessly paws at his erection. Breathless. Heating up.

“Cho, baby.” You’re catching his attention once more. Chocolate brown eyes glisten with tears- “I think you’re in heat.”

A shiver crawls through his body.

And his jaw drops, “Oh.”

Soon enough, you’re crossing the sizzling distance between you both and taking your agonized boyfriend by the hand. He flinches - just a little - as his skin touches yours- before you’re pulling him into a kiss and he simply melts—moans your name.

The two of you aren’t making two steps towards the bedroom before Choso hugs you from behind n’ crushes his red-hot, sensitive erection into your back. Breathing out a barely-audible plea. And then you’re both crashing onto the floor - the half-curse’s hands tugging on your panties, your hands flying to his cock.

He’s gotten you kneeled and arched into his scorching body temperature- before he reels backwards and funnels his cock in.

Just the very curve of it. Just the very tip—blushed red like a strawberry and twice as thick, he’s letting his eyes flutter shut as Choso cums instantly - instantly - at the feeling of your soaked pussy. The half-curse glues his hips to yours and starts spraying out satiny ropes of cum, “F-f-fuck…” His bottom lip quivers so cutely.

“Already, Cho?” Your purr.

It was just so cute. Because in the next few seconds he’s almost sobbing- “I…I can’t help myself.” Pretty face coming down to press in the junction of your throat, plastered with hot sweat and tears.

“Awwww.” You’re turning around to place a kiss on his cheek, “That heat’s made my poor boyfriend so sensitive, huh?”

And Choso simply nods and nods- “But m’not done yet.” Then you’re feeling the buzz of cursed energy- Choso’s cursed energy. You’re feeling your breath hitch as the technique of blood manipulation courses through his veins and renders his cock as hard as ever, flushed so hot you could feel him scorching between your swollen pussylips.

He just whimpers at the sensation. Blood manipulation always did leave him a little dizzy…

Then his hips are hammerin’ away into yours as though he was hungry to reach every pulsing spot and nerve inside. Every ounce of space. That spongy layer of your cervix felt like fucking heaven to him, and he didn’t know why but…but something was calling at him to keep on pushin’ his bundles of cum even deeper down there. To keep hitting it over and over.

To give you looooong, textured drags from his tip to his foamed hilt.

To let the most sensual grunts emanate from his throat every time he’s feeling your soaked walls attempt to clench around him. Chasing after the sensation of him stuffing you full.

In more or less of a doggy position, you’re steadying your hands on the lust-red carpet beneath you- and bucking your hips up. He was sizzling hot. 

Once.

It makes Choso’s doey eyes widen—and he’s staring at you with bated breath. “What are you…”

Twice.

The globes of your ass cheeks reach backwards and smack! his toned pelvis. That sugary scent in the air only seems to grow even stronger- “Fuh-fuck, baby, that’s dangerous. If you do that, m’gonna…”

Eyes glazing over twofold. A slick line of drool on the corner of his mouth. 

Your own twitches in amusement- you had him absolutely wrecked in nothing but a few bounces. In nothing but a few figure-eights making his pupils run to the back of his head. You’re bucking your hips back n’ forth to milk him even more—

“B-baby…”

And that seems to be the last straw for the heat-struck Choso Kamo: who’s lurching his needy body forwards. Pressing one large hand on the upper area of your spine, it doesn’t take much for him to lean his hefty weight down and make you collapse onto the floor- 

As you’re toppling - your boyfriend following closely behind as though stuck to you by superglue - he’s placing a forearm underneath your face. A soft cushion.

Making sure you don’t knock yourself on anything- it’s the last act of kindness you’re getting before Choso drills his hips down and pumps out hot, glutinous cum into you again. Head throwing back. Adam’s apple bobbing at the sharp electricity shooting through him—so much of it. And so soon, too.

It must be an effect of the heat, he’s thinking…or at least he would have had it not been for the state he was in.

Utterly ruined. Utterly pussydrunk.

Choso Kamo has his maw pressed in an open-mouthed kiss against the column of your throat, deep shivers wracking through his body as he whines n’ bucks. “B-baby, it just doesn’t seem to stop-” His slippery shaft sticks into your g-spot and you gasp- “I don’t know if it even can stop—”

Both in cumming- and in fucking you.

Without him even calling upon it, his blood manipulation rushes through his body n’ straight to his now-upright cock. Your poor, powerful boyfriend isn’t given a single split-second to let himself go flaccid before his cursed energy takes over again. 

He’s rutting and rutting his body forwards. Mouth gaped open at the sensation, and his wet pants synchronizing with the even wetter plaps! of skin-on-skin. They were getting even louder, even sloppier, by the second as Choso’s cum seeps out of your pussy n’ kept getting smeared between your legs. 

Hamstrings aching. His abs massaging your back-

Your eyes kept fluttering shut at the sheer pleasure- it was just about past the second round and you still haven’t gotten used to Choso’s sheer size. Only growing and plumpening himself out even bigger as he kept tunneling between your legs—and you swear that damn heat of his left you even more dickmatized than usual, too.

Letting out the prettiest music to his ears as his curved cock slams into your g-spot once more. “Maybe I don’t- hngh, want it to.” You babble out. “Maybe I need you to cum inside- oh, again.”

“Ohhhh, don’t say that.” Pelvis pressed up so harshly against your body that his happy trail scratches you in a way that was so carnal. And any time you’re shifting - Choso has his right hand wrapped around your throat and haaaaauling your weakened body backwards, “P-please don’t say that.” It all comes out in a rush. “If you do then…”

You’re shivering as his nose runs down your throat- drunk on your pheromones. “Then?”

“Then m’gonna cum again.” He whimpers, “And this time I don’t know if I can stop.”

And, truly, Choso could feel his next orgasm building and building at the pit of his stomach - and at the tip of his shaft. It was different than the two before—just a bit stronger, just a bit more electric- he was feeling zaps of electricity shooting to every point in his body; every blood vessel and axiom inside him. 

His mind was feeling foggier. His eyes were having a hard time keeping open just from the sheer pleasure of your velvety, wet pussy. Engulfing every inch of him. His hips were rammin’ sloppy strokes into you again and again and again until he-

“I-I—fuck.” 

Until he finally explodes into his high.

Tears streaming down his flushed face. Mouth glued to yours. 

One hand at your waist n’ swervin’ your hips around so that you can gobble up every ounce of seed he was streaming. Except…

Choso’s eyes shoot open once he realizes-

Except he wasn’t cumming at all.

“Baby, wait.” Because the half-curse surely felt like he was cumming, he surely knew that he’d reached the peak of his pleasure n’ was stretching out that dopamine every time he plunged into you. 

And he also knew that your wettened walls were squeezing out every drop like you knew, too, yet he just couldn’t feel a single thing dripping out. Not a single thing.

Choso grips the base of his cock with furrowed brows, “I think I’m…”

“Noooo, don’t pull out.” Needily, you’re reaching behind and clawing at his wrists as he attempts to. Only for Choso to shake his head and replace his engorged cock with a few fingers - it wasn’t as good as his entire length, but it was something.

And then he pumps and pumps his cock- if he couldn’t fuck deep into you then maybe he could coat your pretty pussylips with his glittering sap. But the only thing he’s able to let out is nothing. Cumming dry.

“Dry?” You’re looking behind in interest, and it’s just then that he’s realizing he must’ve said that out loud. Fuck, he’s so gone. “Three times was too many, huh-”

“No.” Choso interrupts, “No- no, baby. Don’t even think of that.” And he’s so tearful—he’s so apologetic at the fact that he couldn’t…

Cooing, “There’s nothing wrong with that, Cho-”

“I know, but…” And he hesitates, but the words disrupt from his throat anyways. “-something in me says I need to stuff you full of my cum until I can…hck- see your tummy bloat with it. Now.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of your innocent boyfriend uttering such words. Such dirty, dirty words.

And before you know it, you’re laid flatly on your back with Choso’s handsome face looming over you. The air between you two charges with cursed energy once more, and his red-hot cockhead sliiiides between your pussylips.

Blood manipulation leaving him harder than ever.

He hisses, “Th-this time, I promise to you m’gonna cum…”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Arms flinging around his broad shoulders.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 21 rounds…?

You most definitely weren’t going to survive, you think.

The Sukuna Estate has been in an uproar; though this time it wasn’t by reason of an attack, a duel, or the King’s torrid temper. Surprisingly. This time, it was because Ryomen Sukuna had returned from a far-off journey - he’d heard some relative of the Kamo Clan was spouting nonsense about being able to match the four-armed sorcerer in terms of cursed energy, and had gone to put that to the test - and he was victorious.

Of course, he was victorious.

There was no time that he wasn’t. In the few years that you’d volunteered yourself as one of Sukuna’s concubines, you’ve never known the King to lose to an argument let alone a duel. 

And of course, it must be said that Sukuna had numerous - if not hundreds - of women and men housed in his Estate. None coerced; the accepted concubines were more residents for his reputation, than anything. Stories had spread far and wide that he accepted those searching for pay, food, or simply a place to stay—and no intimate relations were a prerequisite for anything that they wanted. You could come at any time, you could leave at any time.

He’d long since tired of mortal desires.

Except for the ones you stirred up, of course.

The stories of the Kamo sorcerer’s pitiful defeat had also spread far and wide- and it’d been the subject of much laughter in the concubine quarters lately. In addition to the fact that - in his woeful attempt at snagging a win and a name for himself - the opponent had called on the help of several different clans (the Abe, the Zenin, the Fujiwara traitors) to ambush and attack Sukuna. 

Though of course they were fallen. As were their men.

And according to the whispers, the death toll had reached the hundreds before Sukuna made his path back home. Back to you…if you were to be so presumptuous.

It wasn’t a secret that you were his favorite- and the ministers of the Estate are coming straight to you to personally announce that the King was nearing. You’re nodding sagely.

You knew what that meant - as it always did after a battle - that Ryomen Sukuna was hungry. The more struck-down opponents, the hungrier. Not for anything to consume or to refresh, but rather a starvation much more carnal and deeper within—the primal taste for flesh against flesh.

You were sitting in perfect poise and your smile hidden as the door to the master bedroom slams! open. The sliding door splinters on one end- and you shiver as you realize that this was going to be one of those nights…he was famished. The King removes his sokutai robes and lets them drop to the tatami floor with a heave, and then his deep footsteps pad over to you.

“Master.” You start to bow-

“You are aware I have a distaste for when you do that.”

Before you’re peeking up at him with a sly grin. “I’m aware. I just like how it riles you up so much, Kuna.”

His second mouth opens in guffaw.

And Sukuna raises one pink brow, “And I expect you are well-hydrated? For this night shall be long and merciless.”

You smile even wider.

.

.

.

One round.

Two.

Three.

Four—

It was just one round after the other. So many and so often; so many vicious slashes of Sukuna’s hips that already made you lose count- again and again. Your hands cascade down his thoroughly-built front to hold on for dear life. The windows were pulled shut, though you could feel the glowing of daylight behind it. The King was laid back against his oak headboard and helping you straddle his hips - your thighs crushed against the muscular, ridged area of his obliques as his cocks drilled into you twofold.

They were one after the other.

Thrust after thrust.

Stacked on top of one another—the upper length was slightly longer than the bottom one. Numerous inches long. Tufts of dark-pink hair. Getting your inner thighs wet with globs of sweet, sweet cum that dribble out every time he’s pulling out-

And then ramming deeply back in again. Ravenous.

He’s been cumming so many times this night—but he still wasn’t done. He was still throbbing at his heavy balls, no matter how many puddles of sap swashed inside of you. He was still rock-hard and running on his monstrous stamina. 

So many times that you’re swearing you feel your eyes sprinting to the back of your skull-

“Ah ah-” One of his four hands lifts up to cup your gorgeous face…or so you think. Instead, Sukuna’s straightening his hand out and swatting the side of your face- jolting you back to your senses.

You’re whining as you’re pulled back. Nose crinkling in irritation, you’re looking at him: and oh—was it a sight to behold. Sukuna’s incredible muscles were pumped up to be even bigger n’ bulkier as he manhandled you on top of him, sweat dripped from in-between his pink brows, and his second mouth stuck his tongue out and laps at his cursed lips with them. Before moving to yours…

Fervent moans crack at the back of your throat as Sukuna’s tastebuds glide-glide-gliiiiide along the sensitive inner parts of your thighs. Before spreading apart your pussylips and rolling over your clit.

As you’re shattering on top of him - your nth high coursing through you like a tidal wave - he chuckles. Both greedy mouths. “Not givin’ up so soon, are you, brat? Do not be like all those other humans-” He spits it out like acid, “-I’ve had to defeat today.”

“B-but…” Babbling out stupidly. Your tears stream down your cheeks, your bottom lip quivers as his hips accelerate. “But I am, human—”

“With a distinct difference.” He answers.

A few more merciless strokes and you’ve given up all hope of attempting to meet his pace. His plap-plapping cadence. His hips against yours, causing such a searing sting that makes your spine arch into his sweaty body.

Into his cursed mouth that wraps its unbelievable length around one of your thighs and uses it like a lasso- tugs you closer to him. Like a ragdoll.

The very tip of his tastebuds start ticklin’ at your clit once more, and you’re feeling your body droop limply into Sukuna’s toned front. Your chin rests between his plush pectorals; and he reaches two beefy arms behind you to guide your hips. To perk you up n’ down, up n’ down, up n’ down—

And with a third palm, the King shuts your drivelling maw- “Besides your…slobber, you are above the title of just any human.” Those mean lips of his dip down to whisper into your ear, “You’re my human. And I expect you to be my future Queen- the future mother of my children.”

A fourth and final one of his hands comes down to press on your cumflated tummy. Just the slightest pressure enough to make hot, white seed foam out of your pussy- 

“This royal pussy shall have to drink my cum up until we have an heir, yes?”

And you nod- you nod. You’ve spoken on the matter with the King of Curses before - a somewhat surprising occurrence - and both of you knew you wanted this.

Both of you were weakly pushin’ your hips firmly against his to milk out whatever ropey ounces of cum he was giving. He was flooding your insides. More and more; orgasms crashing into one another—Sukuna cums deeply inside you again with both cocks and it still wasn’t enough for him. “B-but how will we ever…oh, how will we know it’s even taken, Kuna?” Sobbing.

You’re looking down and it’s just an utter mess of creamy cum n’ the glossed-over tufts of his pink hair. Both bulbous tips twitching as they rammed inside you-

Sukuna smiles as he answers, “Oh…good question. Heh.” The inches of his tongue probe between your legs once again, though this time you’re feeling the ridges of his tastebuds enter your stuffed hole instead of merely grazing over your cunt. That prickly sensation glues to the back of your throat. “If my counting is correct, this is about the 21st- ah, round.” Looking down at his muscular stomach for confirmation, his cursed mouth squelches! outward and hums in confirmation. “How about…”

“N-ngh—” And you think if you’re about to cum, your body prevents you from it. Too pushed to its limits, you can only whimper and writhe on top of him-

And as you’re cumming with a mere few twitches, Sukuna’s cum seeps something hot and sticky in the back of your cunt. “Human, milk your King until he can’t cum anymore.”

Until he’s cumming dry?!

Your heart races as you wonder just how many more rounds that would take out of you-

Just how much more stamina does the strongest sorcerer of all time have? How much could he possibly—

It’s as though he was expecting a far stronger fight from his sorcerer counterparts, so any and all pressure was being placed on your cunt now. With Sukuna’s driveling tips so hot n’ ruby-red—plummeting and plummeting between your swollen pussylips in search of drenching your pretty cervix white. He empties out a few more beads of pearlescent white before snickering, “Don’t worry too much for your mortality, brat…”

Your eyes flutter open- and he’s pulling you into a deep kiss. Through that, his reverse cursed energy courses through your own faltering body. 

“I’ll be done in one more round…two…five…” He murmurs, “Perhaps another twenty-one.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - 3.5 rounds.

“N-no, I promise…” Ino’s hiccuping hitches were just so cute- they interrupted him mid-sentence and made him sound as though he was pleading. “I promise- this time- now-”

“Baby, you don’t have to force it.” You’re cooing gently.

And he all but sobs- “No- no, no no…I promise I’m not too- hck! overstimulated to cum.”

Though…you’re getting the sense that he really was.

Your proud, stubborn boyfriend was on his knees and begging—his chocolate-brown eyes wide, his brows furrowed, his bottom lip quivering in just the slightest way that was just the cherry on top. Ino gasps as he fists his cock even harder, dragging his palm down its left-leaning curve; again and again.

And you’re peering down at the man as he grows more and more frustrated with himself- at the fact that no matter how many times he’s jerkin’ his cock off…he still refused to cum.

Or, at least, he did cum - just without the creamy white mess that’d usually accompany it.

Three (and a half) rounds and Ino was cumming dry. Cumming nothing. With his body kneeled before you, with his mouth hoverin’ over your glistening wet pussy—he’d been making out sloppily with your pussy- all slathered in wads of his seed from rounds prior. Clenching and warm. And it was just the hottest thing he’s ever tasted.

So you really couldn’t blame the guy for pulling on his reddened cock as he did so…but that was precisely when disaster had struck.

When Ino had quirked the edge of his thumb underneath his sopping wet slit - just how you do it - and out came…absolutely nothing. Absolutely nothing and he was devastated—

“I-I don’t understand.” He’s babbling to himself. His gaze flickers between his angry cock and his even angrier hand- not smeared with cum. “I don’t understand, I always…”

Softly placing a hand on his slim shoulder, “Baby, I told you s’okay.”

“But it’s not okay…” Ino mutters, tone practically a pout. He averts his face from your gaze, “I never last the rounds and rounds they do in books. And lately I’ve been going to the gym n’ everything more to increase my stamina, too.”

“Is that why you’ve been buying dumbbells for the house, too?” You laugh, “And here I thought you were on some strange decorating spree.”

He juts his lower lip out, “Don’t make fun of me, sweetness…”

“I’m not, I’m not.” You’re insisting. And without further ado, you’re holding either side of Ino’s sunkissed shoulders and helping him get up, standing his lanky body before you. He’s dragged to your every whim and want; as you’re taking him by the hand and guiding him to the bed- before long you’re laying back in it with Ino hoverin’ above you.

Wrapping your feet around his small waist, you let his blushin’ cockhead kiss your pussylips. He shivers. “Oh, fuck.”

“That’s what I’m doing.” Slyly, you’re letting him ease inside you- your poor boyfriend’s seeing stars at the sudden stimulation. His hips coming down to hammer his cock into you—

But you’re stopping him with a leisurely hand at his hips, shaking your head with a smile as he stares down at you with teary eyes. A plea on his lips- “Now now…” You’re cutting that sweet noise of his off with a tut, spreading your thighs apart even further n’ letting his rotund cock maze its way inside - sloooowly. “Take it easy, Taku. Easy—don’t worry, we’re gonna make you cum this round, m’kay?”

He’s nodding jerkily- uncertainly. “Y-you can really do that, pretty?”

“Of course.” Raising one brow, “Don’t trust me?”

And he’s hastening to shake his head. Urgent and alarmed. “What- no.” And as though to prove this point, Ino leaves his hips at a complete standstill. Painfully so - for him. “No, no—I would n-never not trust you, sweetness. I was just-”

“Shhhh, I know, Taku.” Soothing him. You push away a tuft of chestnut-brown hair from his sweaty forehead, “I know…”

Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, you’re both staring down at the place where you were connected. His throbbing cock. Your glistening wet pussy.

And then you’re breathing out in a tone that’s low and slow—practically hypnotizing him the more of his inches he’s sweepin’ inside. “Just need you to fuck me, baby.”

He’s shuddering as he bottoms out.

Deeeeeep; those inches are red-hot and vein-covered, massaging your walls as he’s sliding in. The crown of his cock is a circumference you could feel at your very throat- and Ino’s head throws back prettily as he’s hittin’ your cervix a few times. “Sh-shit—”

You’re holding back your giggle, “Everything alright, Taku?”

“No- yes.” And after a few more sloppy strokes, he whines. “No…”

Because how could he be? Less than a few minutes ago, he’d been ruttin’ against your calves and cumming dry into his fist. Right now, he was feeling as though the pearly gates of heaven had opened up wiiiiiide between your legs n’ was sucking his soul with every passing second- even the tiniest slurps of your pussy meant his brow was furrowing. 

The tips of his ears growing red, “I-it’s just…I feel like m’gonna cum again.” Ino babbles into your mouth- capturing it in a sinful kiss. “And I think m’gonna cum dry-”

“How’d you know if you haven’t done it yet, hm?” You ask, bouncing your hips up to meet his own. The smack-smack-smacking sounds between you two was all but deafening, “C’mon, baby. Cum inside- hah, fill me up again.”

“Shit- now m’really gonna cum soon…” He’s echoing out desperately. Pelvis rammin’ into yours- and it was already torturous enough for his aching shaft - pistoning deeper and deeper - without your body greedily pushing up into his.

And he feels his heart race as the grin stretches across your face, “Good.” Kissing the soft nape of his neck, it makes his tip ooze out just a little more milky drops of precum. They glue to the pulsating area of your g-spot. “Because I really, really—mmpf.”

And before you know it, your sorcerer boyfriend has reached behind you and clasped- at the discarded ski mask that he was usually known to make.

The soft, fluffy cotton of it glues your mouth shut. 

Muffling your lewd words to the back of your throat - you don’t have a chance to get out whatever it is you wanted to say. Whatever it is you knew would drive him over the edge. 

And yet, Ino Takuma was still completely and utterly ruined as he punctures his ravenous cock between your legs-

Over and over and over.

“Oh- ngh.” The cutest little whimper leaves his throat, and Ino turns his big, tearful eyes towards you. “O-ohhh, please…sweetness, m’really not joking. M’really gonna cum this time.”

“Mmmm—” Nodding fervently.

“I swear m’gonna do it.” Kissing your forehead in apology for the gag- though he could feel just how wet you were getting between your legs. The sheen of your slick soaks his pelvis, his v-line, and the upper parts of his own thighs. Burned slightly red with constant. “I s-swear m’gonna cum.”

“Do it-” You just barely manage out. Before getting cut off- with both the ski mask being pushed deeper into your mouth, and the squeeze of Ino’s slender fingers on your clit. 

Making you see stars-

Toes curling. Back arching. As though a feverish sensation is taking over your body, making your skin perspire and your head throw into the pillows.

And just as your orgasm rages through you, Ino’s does, too.

This time…he’s pumping and pumping his ruddied cock—dragging the luscious curve of it across every single sensitive spot and dip. Those bundles of nerves that he was mapping out. And it’s as if Ino was trying to milk himself - to drag out the wetness of his orgasm if it kills him.

And luckily for him, he doesn’t cum dry. 

Somewhat.

He’s beading out a single drop of seed that gets pushed right to the back of your womb- smeared by the rotund curve of his tip.

And then Ino looks at you with watery, content eyes. “I-I did it, sweetness.”

“That you did, Taku.”

“D’you think I can cum again?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - INFINITY.

“Honey, I’m home~”

Which would have been a completely ordinary greeting from your husband, of course. Which would never have made you think twice before you opened the door for him, of course.

Except…there was one little issue. 

The Gojo Satoru you’re married to was wide-eyed and crazed on your television screen; Mei Mei’s livestream of the Shinjuku Showdown was playing in 4K on your 115-inch TV. And from your standstill in front of the locked door, you could still see your husband’s black t-shirt starting to tear through once he increases his Hollow Purple to 200% and bursts it right in the direction of Ryomen Sukuna—or more like…the Ryomen Sukuna that was inhabiting the body of your honorary son.

But that was semantics. Or so you liked to think to keep yourself sane in here.

It had been Professor Yaga’s idea to keep you home whilst the battle raged on - there was no telling where the King of Curses would go or attack to gain an upper hand on his opponents. Evil never fought fair. And it was here - in the humble…but not-so-humble abode of your’s and Gojo’s penthouse apartment - that he’d cast the strongest veils.

Talismans and protective omens from far and wide. Around the world.

Over the years, Gojo had taken it upon himself to make your house the safest place in the world - a home for his home—you. He knew the burden that came with being loved by The Strongest, and this was the one thing he could do to alleviate it. 

And it was perfect.

But there’d be no home here without your husband. And your stomach twists as you watch the white-haired sorcerer break out in a grin when his compression shirt gets completely torn and his throat nearly slashed.

Sweat glimmers across his defined muscles, and you’re finding it so hard to look away. The battle was reaching a climax- you could tell by the wild look in Gojo’s eyes.

A blur of movements and another explosion of candescent purple- 

And then the door clicks! open.

This can’t be.

Surely, this can’t be.

Gojo was still on-screen.

Gojo was crouching over the King’s chosen vessel and watching as the marked tattoos disappear from what is now - and hopefully forevermore - just…Megumi’s face. He seems to be sleeping peacefully, and the victorious sorcerer on-screen presses two fingers to the poor boy’s pulse.

Brows furrowed in concentration- or concern?

Before a brilliant smile breaks out across Gojo’s face- and he nods to some of the others off-screen. Then you’re seeing the livestream falter on a sudden rush of white coats and stretches, a few of the paramedics reaching for your wounded husband as well—

Before you blink and he disappears. The only evidence of ever existing at the Shinjuku site being the bewildered faces of the doctors- and you.

And the fact that that very same Gojo Satoru was before you know.

Chest heaving. Those cloud-white tufts of his hair were messy - a far cry from his usual updo. 

And his eyes…oh, his eyes were harrowed.

Empty. Unfocused. As though his mind was still in the midst of battle- though his body’s natural instinct was to come to you. And though power still radiated off of him in waves, it’s nothing of the calm river of coldness that normally layered his body. This was a torrential rain—drenching your living room, drenching the entire apartment. 

Pure uninhabited cursed energy; the dam had broken now. The very space he enters drops a few degrees in temperature. 

The very same man you’d kissed goodbye before his battle- now with a simple layer of debris and dust covering him. It left him almost ghost-pale, and you wanted to brush it off as though discarding such an omen - he’d won.

With nothing but a few cuts on his brows and his lip, some already healing across his arms, he’d won. And he was standing right before you.

Unsteady on his feet. 

He slowly raises his eyes to the livestream behind you and comments, “Ah- that’s a little delayed.” And then his gaze drops down to you - finally, finally drops down to you - and he breaks out into a smile.

Brighter than any sun.

Gojo had escaped the arms of death and run straight to you. 

.

.

.

“Mmmm-mmpfg—” The blindfold muffles your mouth perfectly - which should be ironic, considering that all Gojo was thinking about during that damn battle was hearing your voice. At least one last time.

One last time.

And perhaps then, he could pass…peacefully. 

But he hadn’t; for who could be stupid enough to underestimate Gojo Satoru? Especially not Gojo Satoru himself. And so here he was: with his hot blindfold gift-wrapping your mouth, and his cock drivelling into you like he was a machine—

In the lewdest doggy position possible; and you only wanted more.

Unable to vocalize, you’re fisting at the sheets- then behind at Gojo’s toned body. Clawing at those rippling obliques of his to try and draw him even further forwards. “M-more…mmmpfore.”

Forwards and forwards.

Even deeper in. 

The sudden change in angle makes Gojo’s puckered tip kiss up at your g-spot - even harder than before. And by now you’ve memorized the exact length n’ circumference of him—the exact measurements that were swabbin’ aside your wettened walls and tumbling into every spot you loved so much.

He knew every single one. Every single one.

And he was welcoming himself back- he was making sure you’d never forget him again and again and again—

Gojo’s long since lost track of time- and he doesn’t care. Hours could have passed, days could have passed - but the only thing that really mattered to him was finally having his hands on you—and his cock glued to the back of your pussy. 

It was almost concerning how many times he’d stuffed your greedy orifice full - and yet, still kept on cumming. Cumming so long and hot inside you. 

“Oh…mmm.” Moans muffled. Lashes flickering shut. And your hamstrings ache with fatigue he couldn’t feel because of his training - the man had just fought history’s strongest sorcerer, for heaven’s sake. 

And yet, Gojo wasn’t feeling the slightest bit of lethargy as he loops one forearm underneath your hips and scoops your droopin’ hips back up. Plastering them against his own. Sweat and slick sizzles between your clashing bodies—and Gojo’s voice cracks just a little as he asks. “More…?” Breathless. Higher than usual. Your husband’s eyes were wide and piercing- begging you for an answer.

His red-hot tip was just so ready to explode, and that syrupy white cum was already beginning to drivel out. To smear. To stuff inside. “T-tell me what you want, sweetheart.” He gusts his breath down your spine; absolutely scorching. “Is it more—?”

“It’s more- it’s more-” Sometimes, you wonder if he could read minds. And at the state that Gojo was in right now - you wouldn’t be surprised. Just barely, you’re managing to utter coherent words through those merciless restraints, and oh, how he loved watching you gagging on his blindfold.

Filthy.

Tears flooding your gorgeous eyes. Your spittle cascading down in two streams- either side of your mouth.

Hot cum spills between your legs, and you’re still begging for more.

Hah…Gojo can’t help but plant a loving peck on the side of your messy face. Humming, “Then m’gonna give you more.”

“Yes—” Nodding, you plant your hands on the patch of mattress before you. Attempting to haul yourself up just a lil’ so that you could at least try and match his ramming pace-

“Nuh uh, sweetheart.” Had this been anyone but Gojo, then you would’ve found that smug tone of his oh-so-irritating. Just then, Gojo’s leaning his hefty weight over and pinning you down even further onto the mattress—rubbin’ his blossomed cockhead across every inch of your cunt.

You’re getting cut off mid-gasp.

You’re fucking collapsing. And Gojo’s just colliding into you from behind.

Tangled up into such a mess; he’s drunkenly buckling on top of you and crashin’ and crashin’ his hips into you from above. Nose-deep into the crook of your neck. Mouth parted with constant sensual grooooans—“Wh-whatever my wife wants…” He’s easily massaging your g-spot back and forth a few times, and then pulling all the way out with a resounding pop! “-your husband- The Strongest is gonna get it for you.”

“Yes- yes, Toru…”

“M’serious.” He says in a jagged tone. “You wanted more?” The sudden confrontation of his words make you startle- and you’re giving him a quick nod. To which Gojo runs his buzzing fingertips between the sopping crevice of your folds, “Then m’gonna give you more. Hah, careful not to squeeze too tight.”

At that exact moment, you feel the air…stiffen around the two of you.

It was the same sort of tension you’d felt when Gojo had first entered the apartment: the presence of the world’s most powerful cursed energy. It coiled around your bodies and set your skin alight- before focusing on one particular spot—

Shockwaves run up your spine. And your husband reaches down to pat your stuffed pussy- “Unlimited void.”

You freeze. “M-mmpmf…?” You’ve already talked about such uses of Gojo’s powers with him before - you just didn’t expect it now—but you sure as hell weren’t complaining. 

It seems as though Gojo’s cursed energy was coursing through every axiom of him and supercharging it - he didn’t control it. You didn’t know if he could. It was seeping from his body into yours, and turning your slick channel into…that. Whatever it was. Something he could reel his hips back from and rut n’ rut and rut - without it ever getting stuffed too full.

Instantly - and because of the overuse of his powers - Gojo’s feeling his warm tip dribbles out a few more ropes of cum.

And it’s almost like a…challenge at this point: just to see whether he could properly fill that gaping hole of yours. Gojo’s catching his pretty rose-pink lip between his teeth when he gazes down between those tremblin’ legs, “Fuck- see?” Voice growing more ragged by the second, “See—?”

Nodding and nodding. 

“Th-this pussy wanted more, and n-now she’ll never get full. Now she’s flooded with me right down to the womb-” Pressing his second palm on top of your stomach. “-and she still wants more. Hungry girl. Now she can take so much more that- hngh.” Getting cut off with a ruinous moan himself - he’s pumping out pearlescent webs once more. Another orgasm. 

“That?” You’re choking out.

Breathed between clenched teeth, “That you’re gonna milk The Strongest dry, sweetheart.”

“O-oh…” A jolt of pleasure runs through your body at the notion- or maybe it was just Gojo’s slender fingers tightly grasping your clit. Those digits of his were coated in so much thrumming cursed energy that it drove you mad—“Is that even possible?” That expensive blindfold finally loosens its restraint ‘round your mouth, the constant jostling to and fro causing it to unravel. 

“Hmmmm?” Jackhammering hips. Interest piqued. Bolts of lightning shooting from the edges of his eyes as he smiles.

Again and again and again, his shaft scours your insides and stirs every sweet spot up. “I just mean-” Making you feel lightheaded. “How many rounds has it- oh, already been? Are we even sure you can cum dry, Toru?”

“Dunno.” He answers, and your jaw drops. 

Just then, you’re sure that he’s hit with another orgasm—and you are, too. 

Yours starts out in-between your legs with a sudden twitch- before suddenly the pleasure’s setting your body alight. Your heartbeat thrums in your ears, and Gojo’s humming softly to himself as he fucks you through it.

As he’s letting a few sloppy draaaags out before gritting his pearly-whites and dropping his head forwards. Deeper into the crook of your neck; Gojo lets out moan after moan as he dribbles out squelchin’ cum for the nth time tonight.

One after the other.

Loooong and luxurious. Those satiny ropes are emptied out into the deepest depths of your channel, and he was so thoroughly overstimulated by the charged euphoria that he sobs-

And a lightbulb bursts in the distance.

“M’not cumming dry yet.” Gojo’s heavy balls twitch once he’s plasterin’ them to the forefront of your pussylips. And you can feel them swelling and throbbing after every trickle- “But we have the whole night for that, don’t we?”

“Night? I think s’been days.” You retort, sneaking a glance at the daylight-shimmered curtains. 

“Ah, semantics~”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 5 rounds.

“I just don’t understand, angel.” Higuruma leans back in his faux leather-bound chair and sighs, his gold-tipped pen coming to tap between his eyebrows as though searching for some button hidden in there - one that would preferably jumpstart the rest of him into normalcy. He continues, “This Fujiwara case has just made me lose all my stamina.”

Because it’s always a long, hard day in the courtroom.

And Higuruma Hiromi knows that - he’s the best defense lawyer Tokyo ever did see. There’s a reason he graduated at the top of his batch, there’s a reason he started his own law firm at around half the age that most of his colleagues do. 

There’s a reason that Higuruma Hiromi, criminal defense attorney, makes the tension in courtrooms thicken until they’re almost stifling the second he walks through those polished pews.

But this case…

It was the usual- some poor sap blamed for a white-collar crime that he clearly didn’t do. And though Higuruma had half the brain to eye his bosses strangely, the nature of this case also meant that the prosecuting team was the best of the best—being that they knew how to twist their words.

And Higuruma was left haggard after a single session. Not that he didn’t think he stood a chance - he knows he does, he knows that guy’s getting out scot-free after this - but it’s just that…he had to do this for months.

He had to walk into the courtroom and feel his mind becoming more n’ more fossilized by the second- that damn prosecuting team was abhorrent. 

And so here he was.

11:41PM. Cooped up in his office room at home; Higuruma was slumped down at his desk, whilst you stood concerned beside him. As he lets out another prolonged sigh, you’re stepping behind the chair and starting to massaging his firm shoulders - surely knotted to hell and back. 

Higuruma shoots you a grateful smile, “It’s awful. I had to sit there and try not to throw my chair at those prosectors for-”

“Five hours.” You’re finishing his sentence.

He’s gazing up at you lovingly, “And even for lawyers they’re insufferable- and that’s coming from me.”

You’re furrowing your brows in humor, “Hey—you’re only half-insufferable.”

That makes him let out a laugh, “But I’m telling you, angel-” And almost as quickly as it came, it disappears. Higuruma’s pinching the bridge of his handsome nose for the nth time this night, “I’m not at that age just yet, but it seems I must work on my stamina. Today was absolute hell.”

“Five hours, huh?” Even saying it out loud made you feel weary, “Y’know how long that’s about?”

“Hm?” He looks at you, “How long?”

Leaning down to whisper in his ear, “That’s about as long as a…” And even before you’re saying the words, you’re sensing the goosebumps that skitter down Higuruma’s neck and even further down his collar. Just how far…you wonder. “-marathon that we have, hm, Hiromi?”

“Yes…” He breathes out. Long, dark lashes nearly shuttering.

He’s been so caught up with that damn case lately- so caught up, he hasn’t had enough time to spend with you. And just the mere mention of it…of being between those pretty legs n’ fucking you for hours and hours is enough to leave him a little heated.

And Higuruma’s meeting your eyes like two magnets that have finally met- first, his lips are on your neck. Then he’s tugging you onto his lap.

.

.

.

“Yes—” Higuruma hisses out- voice pitched into a tone so utterly unlike him. Something so botched in his words, something so ruined—

He’s been fucking your perfect cunt for hours now, and was showing no signs of stopping.

Your attorney husband has a steadfast hold on your hips; from the luxurious chair you’ve moved onto the edge of his desk. Pressed on your front over the mahogany table, hands clawing out haplessly in front of you, ass archin’ up into his vicious thrusts.

The skin ‘round Higuruma’s pelvis has turned red by this point, and he was hissing between his teeth every time his hips came in contact with yours—smack! 

So hard that you’re flinching just a little bit.

And that makes a few streams of cum dribble out from between your clenched pussylips- the pure-white sheen of it coating your thighs. Higuruma doesn’t let a single sweet ounce of it go to waste before he’s snaking a hand down and thumbin’ off just a few drops.

And then you’re finding it stuffed between your lips- “M-mmmm…” Your tears form a lacquer down your cheeks, “Hiromi, you’re so filthy.”

“You married me for it, didn’t you?” He grins. Head tipping back just a little once you’re clenching your sopping wet walls in confirmation, “F-fuck, ngh—keep doing that. Just a little tighter, sugar.” And if you were in any clearer of a state of mind, then you’d have noticed that his husky tone was cracking—voice breaking at the tail end of his sentence.

Higuruma was feeling his sanity drip away every time he entered your pussy- but so were you.

You moan, “Need more-” 

He pats at your pussy adoringly, feeling the wetness of your slick mixed with his clingy white cum. “More, huh? Sure you can handle it, angel?” Darting a look at the clock, “We’re already on…a few hours. Round five.”

Nodding and nodding. 

And you’re all but keening for more as you feel him edge his ravenous cock away - just a few inches. It honestly wasn’t even a movement that should impact the sheer carnal streeeeetch he was bestowing upon you.

But with your needy senses, you’re turning your head over your shoulder. About to mouth off to your husband about pulling away when you were hungry for him the most when-

When you’re seeing that he’d been reaching for that scrap of fabric thrown over his chair.

A stray discardment in the heat of the moment earlier.

His tie.

Your restraints now.

Because in a split-second, Higuruma loops the jet-black fabric around your dangling wrists. It doesn’t take him long to fasten it and tighten it—testing it just by giving it a little pull- he finds himself grinning as your body’s able to be lifted and moved ‘round just by this.

Perfect.

The semi-coarse cloth was strangely sensual against your skin- almost biting. 

Higuruma himself leans down to give a small nip at your right shoulder, before he’s leaning back and hauling you—inches off the table. Two hands clasped around your wrists, the cold hiss of his wedding ring matching yours, the red, rotund head of his cock swipin’ inwards and making your walls bulge with the size of him. “O-oh, fuuuuuck-”

His dribbling divot navigates straight to the bottom of your pussy. “Yeah- yeahhhhh, you’ve got this.” Higuruma whispers as your orgasm wracks through you - and his own fifth one was nearing ever-closer. “You can take it. You can take me-”

“Should I be concerned about the- ngh, amount of space I have left?” In unison, you’re snapping your head down at the area between your legs. Limp.

“Concerned?” 

Cum was seeping out of you in what looked like bucketloads- in all the physical stamina that Higuruma was determined to prove that he still has. And he sure does - or at least your thoroughly-stuffed pussy seemed to think so - but your husband was still pumping away even harder. 

Rougher.

Splatterin’ patterns of syrupy sap on your skin- where contact was being made constantly. Higuruma laps at the gentle leaking with his thumb once more, “Sugar, this pussy was made to take my cum.”

Manhandling you backwards using the restraint of his tie, and slammin’ a final French kiss into the back of your cervix. You feel him start to twitch—in the way that Higuruma always does before he’s about to coat your walls with a layer of cum. “I-inside…” You whine. “All of it- inside.”

“Mhmmm, your husband has you, angel.” And then he’s holding you close- 

Tip thickening at the very flared edge, the crown of it, he’s pouring out a few glittery ropes of…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Higuruma’s dark eyes shoot open as it sinks in: he was cumming in every way, shape, sensation, and form—except for the absence of cum. The absence of gooey white cum seeping out his shaft- and he’s feeling it. 

But he isn’t drenching your pussy in the way he’s expected to.

And Higuruma seethes- “Angel, I…” Lower lip trembling as he takes in the cum that’d frothed out of you and was now being pushed back, “I-I believe I didn’t-”

“Hiromi, did you cum dry—?” Wonderment seeps into your tone. “I didn’t even know you could do that-”

“I didn’t, either.” There was something akin to…disappointment in his tone. Something akin to sadness, something akin to determination- “I can’t believe I…angel, my stamina is fucked-”

“Baby, you just went five rounds without stopping-”

“And if I don’t cum on the sixth…” That ruby-red tip rubs up against your g-spot, ready to splurge out cum at least this time. 

“Mhmmm?”

“Then I’m not Tokyo’s best lawyer.”

A/N. Something something something milkshakes-

Of course, you could have fought. But fighting back is never a good idea—you never know if and when they could decide to send you to the slaughterhouse to make rabbit stew out of you instead— keep your fur to make a coat or carpet. They’ll have better use of you that way than they will with a misbehaving pet, after all.

You think about ending it yourself once you’re sitting in your cage listening to the speaker announce a heifer. That’s how the auction goes—typical farm animals first, other domestic species, then wilder exotic ones. 

In an ill-thought way, you wish you were an exotic breed—something with wings or something they’d have to keep in an aquarium—all in all, something a little harder to come by than being a rodent. Rabbits are cute, but they’re a dime a dozen and are usually sold to those who don’t feel like spending too much—trigger-happy hunter types who’re looking for cheap toys that are easily broken and just as easily replaced.

You swallow thickly. Better yet, you wish you were a bigger badder herbivore that required respect—like an elephant or a rhino. No one would mess with you then. 

But there’s no point in mulling over what you’re not. You’re prey. That’s just how it is.

But who knows? Maybe it won’t be so bad. You’ve seen someone come back to the farm after being auctioned. She’d lost an ear and could no longer speak, but other than that, she was alive and well…

You reconsider killing yourself. Suppose, the only thing keeping you from going through with it is the option of doing it later if and when it actually proves to be as bad as you imagine. You’ve never been good at making such decisions. Must be that prey mentality.

“Up next, we have a mini lop bunny,” the speaker announces, and you feel your cage move, carrying you into the spotlight where you can only see bright red eyes glaring back at you. You immediately look away.

“Known for their long ears, button nose, and round eyes—not to mention their docile nature. As one of the most popular bunny breeds on the market, mini lops are a house pet staple. Believe it or not, they’re also intelligent and social, thriving on attention, whether that be playing games or cuddling—making them the perfect choice to anyone in want of a domestic companion or a pet toy.”

You sniffle—crying and shivering, curling yourself up in a little ball within your cage, making yourself as small as possible, hiding from the predatory glares you feel surrounding you. You’ve only seen a handful of carnivores before—the shepherd dog that herds the flock back home being the biggest one. You’ve heard wolves are twice the size. Maybe you’ll be lucky and have a heart attack right now before any one of them can make their bids.

But then it starts. One number after the other. It feels over in the blink of an eye.

“Sold!” the speaker calls. “To the fine grizzly gentleman on table nine.”

Your eyes peel from being sealed shut, staring intently at your lap where you sit with your knees tucked to your chest—frozen and tense and teetering on passing out from lack of breath. Grizzly? You gulp with a swallowed whimper. Did you hear that right? As in bear? 

“No-” You suddenly understand the point of the chains that had been fixed around your ankles and wrists—given they were the only thing keeping you from thrashing against the bars—breaths hitching as you felt the cage being reeled away to make space for the next one up.

A blanket is thrown over your enclosure, engulfing you in pitch dark before you’re carried off and placed down somewhere. The floor shakes beneath you after a small moment. Something purring underfoot. It feels a little different from the carriage you’re used to but you think you’re being moved.

It’s an hour or so until you feel it come to a halt, at which point your cage is picked up and carried off again, then placed down a few moments later.

You can’t see it, but you can smell it in the air—something dangerous. It must be him. The bear that bought you.

You shield yourself once the drape is lifted and you’re exposed to the light again, squealing, “Please, mister—please don’t eat me. I only eat grass—I wouldn't taste good. And- and—I wouldn’t be very filling anyway–” while trembling underneath the shadow of the apex predator before you.

Your jumping heart was expecting nothing short of instant death, though that’s not what ensued. Instead, there’s an unfamiliar sound. A rumbling. Almost like a growl. It takes a while before you recognize it as laughter. 

“Shh, bunny,” the bear chuckles. “Don’t worry—I have no intention of eating you.”

He crouches down before your cage, though still big enough to tower over it. 

“After all,” he says. “There would be little point in spending so much on something only so bite-sized.”

Your eyes flicker to his paw, where it jingles with something. 

It’s a key.

“How about we get you out of that cage? Those shackles don’t look pleasant. I’ll remove them for you.” He unlocks the gate and swings it open, leaving you room to crawl out.

You don’t know if you should. On the one hand, the cage is keeping you safe, but on the other hand, you doubt you can stay in it forever. And who knows what might happen to his seemingly gracious mood if you refuse him.

“D’you—” It’s a silly question, but you don’t know what else to say. “You promise?”

He makes that sound again. Humored by you, it would seem. “Yes, Bunny, I promise.”

You decide to come out and only feel smaller for it, now exposed. But he keeps his promise, removing your shackles. Your eyes are peeled as he does, watching his claws be so close to you. Thick, long, curled, and black. They would puncture your skin and tear into your meat like it were nothing. You go goosefleshed at the thought.

“They always do these so tight…” he sighs. “Utterly unnecessary for domestic species such as yourself.”

You look up at him at that. He’s done this before, which must mean… “Do you—do you have others?” Or has he had others? Meaning… he doesn’t plan on keeping you around for long. 

It’s funny how that overwhelming urge to run makes you go completely numb.

Meanwhile, he looks at you in silence. Surprised at your observation, perhaps, but then he smiles, fangs and all, and you nearly skitter back into your cage.

“You’re quite astute.” Again, he rumbles with a laugh. Then he stands and walks off, setting your cuffs down on a dresser.

You only now realize you’re in a bedroom, of all places.

“I suppose there’s no use in beating around the bush.” He turns around again and leans back against the drawers, arms folded upon his broad chest as he starts explaining, “I run an entertainment business—a fun house of sorts—you might call it a burrow, as my staff is exclusively made up of bunny rabbits such as yourself.”

A burrow? Like back home? Why would a bear be doing that?

“From now on, you’ll work for me. You’ll be trained in the arts of hospitality and pleasure and cater to a clientele of sophisticated apex predators such as myself.”

Hospitality and pleasure? It almost sounds like he means for carnivores to breed with you… But that would be ridiculous. What would be the point? It’s not as if you can carry other litters but kits anyway.

“You look confused,” he chuckles again. “Allow me to explain.” He pushes himself off the dresser. “Unlike most other mammals, bunnies don’t go into heat. No, instead, bunnies are, in many ways, in a state of permanent mating season—which makes you ideal for my intents and purposes.”

You’re not sure you understand what he’s implying. But you’re growing more certain you don’t like it…

“Moreover, bunnies are any hunter’s natural prey,” he continues while walking back toward you. “Making you the perfect meal to fulfill any customer's appetite.”

He pushes the gate of the cage closed, and it clicks back in place, now locked for good and no longer an option of escape, however poor.

“Not to mention…” He smiles again, and this time, you really wish you had a place to hide. “Bunnies are natural sluts.” He crouches back down, closer now, and curls his black claw up under your chin. “All you want is to be fed and bred all day, then fall sound asleep come night.”

You swallow thickly. Your question answered. 

“And since you seem to be a smart cookie. I suppose there’d be little point in waiting."

He removes his tie.

"So, let’s start your training right away.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Aizawa ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Toji ♡ BLLK – Aiku ♡ DS – Doma ♡ HxH – Chrollo

Oh, and when they’ve gotten you really flushed and hooked, they’ll groom you. Using their sand-textured tongue to lap up all that sweet-smelling nervousness like you’re a desert. Kneading your soft parts like you’re their own personal stress-toy. 

But felines are great tippers, even those who don’t use you much. You think they see it as a status thing. 

Birds of prey are the same. They like to talk. Or, talk is a generous term. They’re vain creatures and will mostly ask for your opinion on their plumage and how you like their feathers—if they aren’t just the most magnificent wings you’ve ever seen in your life.

It took you a while to understand them—what type of money they were—but if the tattoos they keep on their skin are any tell, your guess is mafia.

Funny enough, they seem like one of the less dangerous types of clientele you have. They just like having fun for the most of it, always asking you to kiss their rings before they throw the dice. They’re all gambling habits and signed deals, trying to act as sophisticated as possible, even when they’ve all got freshly bloody knuckles on each visit.

But you’re a well-trained bunny, always sitting pretty and never ever asking a single stupid question that might get you in trouble.

Then there’s the hyenas, of course. They find work where they’re wanted. Candy men and loansharks, but mostly just muscle for the real mobsters.

They also come in packs and take a little too many party drugs. Always left drooling all over you, eyes blown wide and bloodshot, rutting as if they’re competing over who can do you fastest or who can do it the most times—you can’t tell—teeth bared as they sink their claws a little too deep into your flesh, almost hard enough to tear your coat and definitely enough to leave spots the boss won’t be pleased to see.

They’re bad with money and are often chased out and banned from coming again. But they have ways of earning their keep, and somehow, they’re always pardoned after a week or two and welcomed back with open arms.

And speaking of being begrudgingly welcomed. Foxes are usually considered runts—not true apex predators, but they're still allowed entry for dubious reasons.

They’re romantic, coming to the establishment in tailored suits and fresh haircuts. Yeah, they might come across as clean, but in truth, they’re scavengers who fight tooth and nail for their cut of the steak.

Blackmailers and extortionists who pawn themselves off as good-faith advisors, meanwhile running their own organization with private investigations going in every direction, always dealing in confidential information they’re not supposed to know.

They're not entirely accepted by the others but are seen for their value nonetheless, if not out of respect and fear.

A strange species, you'd say. They can play well with anyone, not just canines, making it their mission to secure a favor amongst all the big names. Silver-tongued yet sleazy all the same.

You never know what their agenda is—telling you they’ll take you away somewhere, lavish you with the lifestyle you deserve. But you know they’re just trying to get you to spill on your other clients. Surely you must have heard something interesting?

You just smile and play dumb like always—you’re just a bunny, after all, what were they expecting?

Then there are the reptiles—crocs, gators, and snakes. Lawyers, the lot of them. High-profile lawyers.

You have that in common, you suppose. All their clients are your clients, after all.

They like to boast about their winnings. Make you say, “Oh wow!” and “No way, really?”

Oh, and they love to strangle. They’re maybe the most eccentric species you serve—and the most taxing. They’ll slither their tongue in your ear, keeping their hand around your throat, feeling you kick and struggle beneath them, watching your eyes roll back as they nearly squeeze you free of life.

Somehow, they always know the exact moment to let go. And at that point, they’ve achieved their high. Paying double what they’re owed as if in shame before leaving.

Suppose some types enjoy playing with their food more than eating it.

Lastly, there’s the boss. Big Bear.

He calls himself a businessman, but he’s really just a glorified pimp.

He’s begun taking you off floor duty in favor of having you for himself. He’s always had favorites, you’re told. If you play your cards right, he might just add you to his personal harem.

You try your best to cater to him, but his grizzly cock makes your hips feel as if their dislocating each time you take him, not to mention the way he leaves you completely bedridden, feeling like the spoils of a hunt. 

But unfortunately for you, despite your incompetence, he seems to have taken a liking to you.