❥𝓚𝓘𝓛𝓛𝓔𝓡 ♥︎♡♥︎

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-