warnings ᯓ★: black reader, 18 year old reader, plug!megumi, brother’s best friend trope, age gap implications (early 20s megumi), explicit sexual content, car sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink elements, pregnancy risk/scare, plan b discussion, family conflict (brother finds out via phone), phone call interruption during sex, light dirty talk, consensual but impulsive decisions, aftercare, emotional intimacy, no condoms used, mild panic/post-nut clarity, no non-con or dub-con, all acts consensual between adults, realistic consequences discussed
pairing: plug!megumi x blackbimbo!reader
Description ᯓ★: your brother drags you to megumi’s house so he can sneak off to see his girlfriend, leaving you alone with a caramel frappe and megumi’s quiet attention. tension that’s been building forever finally snaps in his car things get heated, raw, unprotected. brother’s facetime call almost catches mid-moment.
megumi was your brothers bestfriend. he sold drugs, weed and some more shit that he kept stashed in different spots around his room.
your brother ended up on punishment for sneaking his girlfriend in the house one too many times, windows creaking and all.
and the only way he could get out was by taking his little sister out, buying you some dunkin’. donut strawberry and frosted with extra sprinkles because he knew you’d drag it out and a caramel frappe, extra caramel drizzle swirled on top and down the sides, the cup already getting that sweaty condensation ring by the time you got in the car.
though your brother left soon as he got there and begged you to not tell mom, voice low and desperate.
“sis please- i promise this is the last time.” he held the door knob wedging it in and outward while he stood in the hallway, sneakers squeaking on the wood floor.
“yeah whatever, hurry up.” you didn’t look away from your phone, just laid on megumis bed, legs kicked up, back against the headboard with the gray comforter bunched under you, the cold caramel frappe cup sweating against your thigh and leaving a damp spot on your sweatpants.
“okay call me if you need me, ima be at carmens house.” and with that your brothers car pulled out the driveway, tires crunching over loose gravel, and he was on his way to see his girlfriend—again.
you strolled on your phone, biting at your straw, the plastic slightly flattened from how long you’d been chewing on it, caramel still thick and sticky on the tip every time you took a slow sip through the whipped cream.
the faint smell of weed still hung in the air mixed with whatever body spray megumi used, and you could hear him moving around somewhere down the hall, door half open like he didn’t care who was in his space.
his room wasn’t dirty, it was actually clean. organized actually. shelves lined with vinyls in alphabetical order, a few jars tucked neatly in the corner drawer where he kept his product sorted by strain, desk clear except for a half-empty water bottle and his rolling tray flipped upside down like it was just decor. bed made, grey comforter pulled tight, no random clothes thrown around.
he walked in, sweats hanging low on his hips, black essential hoodie. his head tilted a bit, dark hair falling slightly into his eyes. hands stuffed deep in his hoodie pocket, shoulders relaxed.
“you good?” he looked at you, curled in his bed, straw at your lips and phone in your hand. curls spilling against his pillow, legs tucked under the grey comforter.
“every time my brother leaves me here—you always ask me that.” you looked up from your phone, long lashes fluttering as you met his gaze.
he nonchalantly shrugged, a small tsk sound escaped his lips, like he was half amused, half used to it. he leaned against the doorframe, hands still in his pockets.
“yeah—and you never answer it.” his head tilted just a fraction more, eyes steady on you.
you rolled your eyes a little, pulling the straw from your lips with a soft pop, caramel residue still glistening on it. you set the phone down on the grey comforter beside you, finally giving him your full attention.
“maybe i don’t need to?” your voice came out softer than you meant, lashes dipping as you glanced down at the cup in your hand, condensation dripping slow onto the comforter.
he looked at the comforter and sighed softly. “finna go make some runs—you can stay here.”
you leaned up, propping yourself on your elbows. “wait i wanna come.” you jumped out of his bed and slipped your clogs on, your anklet dangled with the little silver charms catching the dim light from the hallway.
you sat the cup on his nightstand, the condensation leaving a faint wet ring on the wood, and met him at the doorway of his bedroom, close enough that you could smell the faint weed and that body spray clinging to his hoodie.
he rolled his eyes slightly, pink lips twisted just a bit, like he was already regretting saying yes.
“okay, just don’t be annoyin’” he walked through the hallway and grabbed his bookbag off the floor by the couch—black, worn straps fraying at the edges—before snatching his keys off the table.
they jingled sharp against his palm as he headed for the front door, not even bothering to look back to see if you were following.
you grabbed your phone quick, tucking it into your sweatpants pocket, and hurried after him, the anklet making soft tinkling sounds with every step.
he made runs for hours, windows cracked just enough to let the cool night air mix with the faint weed smoke that clung to everything. every stop he’d hand you the crumpled bills or the cash app notification, letting you count it quick and fix the stack before sliding it into the side pocket of his bookbag.
or he’d pass you the pre-rolled or the little baggie his client already paid for, trusting you to hand it off smooth without drawing eyes.
you stayed quiet in the passenger seat most of the time, legs crossed, scrolling or just watching the streetlights streak by.
it was damn near dark out now, sky deep purple, streetlights buzzing on one by one, and he still had lots more trips to do. he pulled into a quiet side street to wait on the next text, engine idling low. he looked at you, eyes bored but softer around the edges than usual, lingering a beat longer on the way the white fabric stretched across your chest in the dashboard glow.
“you hungry?” his voice cut through the quiet, thumb tapping lazy on the steering wheel.
you glanced over, anklet shifting as you uncrossed your legs, the little charms catching the glow from the dashboard lights.
“yeah… kinda. been in this car forever.” you stretched your arms up, crop top lifting higher to show more skin, then dropped them back down slow.
“we’ll get something to eat after this order.” he rubbed his lips wit his fingers, eye still forward, other had at the top of the steering wheel.
he finally got the order and cranked the engine, felt like he was driving through town for hours, same streets looping under the tires, headlights washing over empty sidewalks.
when he finally pulled up the client wasn’t even there. porch light off, driveway empty, no sign of anyone.
you sucked your teeth, hungry and annoyed, stomach growling loud enough to cut through the quiet. “what the fuck.” you pouted, arms crossed under your chest so the white crop pulled tighter, thin fabric stretching across your nipples in the dashboard glow.
megumi just watched you. fingers caressing his lips slow, like he was thinking hard or just giving himself something to do. no rush in his face, no frustration—just that steady, quiet stare.
“relax.” he said, voice calm, nothing else behind it. he tilted his head back against the headrest, eyes flicking to the side window, watching—waiting for a car to pull up or headlights to flash down the block.
“i’m so hungry megumii—” you whined a little, didn’t mean to but it came out. the pout deepened, lips full and glossy from the way you’d been biting them all night. you uncrossed your arms to tug at the crop hem, trying to pull it down, but it just rode right back up, exposing more skin.
he kept watching. eyes went down your body—over the crop, the bare skin between it and your sweatpants, the way the waistband sat low—then back to your face. thumb dragged over his lip again.
car idled, engine humming. no client. minutes passed.
he exhaled through his nose. “come here.” quiet, not loud.
you looked at him. “what?”
he didn’t say it again. reached over, fingers around your wrist light, pulled you closer across the console till your side hit his. crop rode up more, edge almost under your tits now. his hoodie sleeve brushed your bare skin, warm.
he looked down at you, close. breath on your face. “you keep whining like that…”
his thumb rubbed once over your wrist. other hand left the wheel, landed on your thigh over the sweatpants. palm flat, heavy, not moving yet.
you felt your heart pick up. street quiet, just the engine.
he leaned in a bit, nose close to your hair. “i’ll get you food after this. be patient.”
hand squeezed your thigh once—firm—then slid up slow, thumb going under the loose waistband of your sweatpants, grazing bare skin right above your hip. stopped there. waited. eyes on yours in the dark.
you swallowed. heat low in your stomach. sweatpants felt too hot suddenly. “megumi…”
he didn’t talk back. fingers slipped under the band more, brushing skin slow, not rushing. breathing even but chest moving faster against you. ears red at the tips.
your heart jumped against your chest, sharp and quick, like it was trying to break free. you wanted this, wanted it for longer than you’d admit—but the want came wrapped with nerves, making your breath catch.
you looked up at him. he stared right back. lips pink, parted just enough, like he was already tasting the air between you. dark blue eyes gone darker, pupils blown wide in the dim dashboard light, swallowing the usual calm until it was just heat and focus locked on your face.
you pushed up to kiss him. he leaned down at the same time, meeting you halfway. your mouths crashed soft at first—then his tongue slipped past your plump lips, slow and sure, tasting the faint caramel still clinging to you from earlier.
patient. always patient. he didn’t rush the kiss, just deepened it steady, tongue sliding against yours in lazy strokes that made your head spin.
his hand in your sweatpants moved gentle, deeper now. fingers eased under the edge of your panties, brushing bare skin, then parting you slow. he found you wet already and let out the softest sound against your mouth.
barely a hum, like he was surprised but not really. middle finger circled your clit once, light pressure, testing. then again. patient circles that made your hips jerk up into his palm without thinking.
he kissed you softer after that, like everything about him gave—gave space, gave time, gave you room to breathe even as he took more. lips moving careful over yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth for a second before letting go. his free hand came up to cup the back of your neck, thumb stroking the soft skin under your ear, keeping you close but not trapping you.
your hand scrunched tighter at his hoodie, fingers bunching the thick black fabric over his chest, gripping like you needed something solid while he unraveled you. he took you passionately but quiet.
he didn’t groan loud or talk dirty, just kissed deeper, tongue curling with yours while his finger slid lower, pressing inside you slow, one knuckle, then two. curled just right, stroking that spot that made your thighs tremble and a small whimper slip out against his lips.
he broke the kiss slow, a thin string of spit breaking between you, shining for a second in the dashboard light before it snapped. his breathing came heavier now, chest rising against yours.
“your brother would kill me.” he looked down into your glossy, begging eyes, pouted lips still wet from him. voice low, rough around the edges, but steady. like he was stating a fact, not trying to talk himself out of it.
“you know that right?”
your eyebrows slouched, annoyed, frustration mixing with the ache between your legs. “i don’t care. i want this—give me this megumi.”
you tried to pull him closer by his neck, fingers digging into the soft skin there, tugging at the hoodie collar. but he didn’t budge, didn’t move much, just stayed where he was, solid and unyielding.
his hand still buried in your sweatpants, fingers deep inside you, but he’d gone still. no more stroking, just holding there, letting you feel the stretch, the heat, the pulse of him against your walls.
you could cry from it—he played with your pussy so gentle, kissed you soft and deep and now he was pulling away, even if it was only an inch.
desperation pushed up your throat. you gripped at his hand, the one still tucked under the loose waistband, fingers wrapping around his wrist like you could force him to keep going if he tried to pull away again.
“please—megumi—please. i want this.”
he paused for a second, everything still except the slow rise and fall of his chest against yours. eyes dropped to your lips first, then lifted to the tears forming in the corners of your eyes, glossy and catching the faint dashboard light. he didn’t blink. just watched them like they meant something heavy.
“if we keep going—” his voice came out low, rougher than before, almost a warning wrapped in quiet certainty, “—i’m not stopping.”
the words hung there, simple and final. no tease, no smirk—just him laying it out plain so you couldn’t pretend later that you didn’t know.
his fingers were still inside you, buried deep, but he’d gone completely still again, waiting.
letting you feel the stretch, the throb, the way your walls clenched around him involuntary every time you shifted.
you nodded fast, tears spilling over now, one sliding slow down your cheek. “i know. i don’t want you to stop.”
something changed in his face. softened just a fraction, the hesitation cracking open. he exhaled slow through his nose, thumb brushing once over your clit again, light enough to make your hips buck.
then he leaned in, kissed the tear track on your cheek gentle, lips lingering there like he was tasting the salt.
“okay,” he murmured against your skin.
then he moved.
fingers started again—slow at first, deliberate pumps, curling deeper each time he pushed back in, stroking that spot that made your thighs shake and your breath hitch. thumb circled your clit steady, pressure building patient but unrelenting.
the wet sounds were louder now in the quiet car, obscene and intimate, mixing with your small gasps and the low hum of the engine.
he kissed you again. deeper this time, tongue sliding against yours slow and thorough while his hand worked you open. free hand came up to cradle the back of your head, fingers threading into your curls, keeping you close so every whimper went straight into his mouth. he swallowed them quiet, like they were his to keep.
your grip on his wrist loosened as the pleasure coiled tighter, turning into desperate clutching at his hoodie instead—nails digging into the fabric over his chest. sweatpants shoved down further around your thighs now, bunched and forgotten. his hoodie sleeve had ridden up, forearm flexing with every slow thrust of his fingers.
“shit.” he groaned into your mouth, low and rough, the sound vibrating against your lips.
your eyes fluttered open, hazy and heavy-lidded, finding his in the dim glow. “what? what’s wrong?” you asked so softly, innocently, voice barely above a whisper, like you were scared you’d broken something.
he pulled back just enough to look at you—dark blue eyes locked on yours, pupils blown wide. his breathing came uneven now, chest heaving under your palms.
“i’m so hard.” the words came out strained, honest, no filter. he grabbed your hand gentle but firm, guided it down between you until your fingers brushed the thick length straining against his sweatpants. even through the soft fabric you could feel how hard he was—hot, heavy, twitching under your touch when you wrapped your hand around him slow.
your eyes softened, something warm and needy blooming in your chest. you squeezed once, light, testing, feeling the way he throbbed against your palm. his hips jerked forward involuntary, a quiet hiss slipping between his teeth.
“fuck…” he breathed, forehead dropping to rest against yours. his fingers inside you had gone still again, just resting there, letting you clench around them while your hand explored him. he didn’t push your hand away—didn’t rush you—just let you feel him, thumb brushing slow over the head through the fabric where a damp spot had started to form.
you bit your lip, eyes flicking down to where your hand moved over him, then back up to his face. his ears were flushed deep red, jaw tight like he was holding himself back by a thread. the hoodie sleeve had ridden up higher on his arm, forearm flexing with every small shift, veins standing out under his skin.
“megumi…” your voice came out small, needy. you stroked him again, firmer this time, watching the way his eyes fluttered shut for a second, lashes dark against his cheeks.
he swallowed hard, throat working. “you don’t have to—”
“i want to.” you cut him off soft, hand slipping under the waistband of his sweatpants now, fingers wrapping around bare skin—hot, velvet-hard, thick enough your fingers didn’t quite meet. he groaned low in his throat when you touched him skin-to-skin, hips rocking up into your grip once before he caught himself.
his free hand came up, cupped your jaw, thumb tracing your bottom lip again. “you sure?”
you nodded, leaning in to kiss him slow, tongue brushing his while your hand stroked him base to tip, slow and deliberate like he’d done to you. he kissed you back deeper, hungrier now, fingers finally moving again inside you—lazy curls that matched the rhythm of your hand on him.
the car felt smaller, hotter, windows fogged thick enough the outside world was gone. just wet sounds, heavy breathing, the way his thumb pressed your clit in time with your strokes, building you both up slow and steady.
he broke the kiss to murmur against your mouth, voice wrecked and low. “keep goin.”
you kissed his lips one last time—soft, lingering—before your hand slipped lower, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down just enough. his dick sprang free, hard and heavy against his stomach, pink tip already glistening, thick and lengthy enough that your eyes blew wide when you saw it. veins standing out along the shaft, flushed dark at the base. you weren’t even sure if you could fit it all in your mouth, the thought making your stomach flip with nerves and want.
but you tried.
you leaned down slow, breath fanning over him first. lips brushed the tip—warm, soft—and he let out the softest moan, barely there, like it slipped out against his will. the sound sent a fresh pulse of heat between your legs. you sucked the head gentle, tongue swirling once around the slit, tasting the salt and the faint bead of pre-cum. your hand wrapped around the base—fingers not quite meeting—and stroked slow, steady, matching the rhythm of your mouth.
he moved your curls out the way careful, both hands coming up to hold your hair, fingers threading through the strands loose at first, then tighter when your tongue pressed flat along the underside. he couldn’t believe his best friend’s sister was eating his dick—right here in the front seat, sweatpants shoved down, crop top riding up, the faint smell of weed and caramel still hanging in the air. the thought alone almost made him nut in your mouth, hips twitching up once before he caught himself.
“fuck—you suck my dick so good.” his words came out breathy, almost guttural, cracking at the edges like he was already so close. no cocky edge, just raw, wrecked honesty. his thumbs stroked the sides of your face gentle even as his grip in your hair tightened, guiding you down a little more without pushing too hard.
you hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper—lips stretching around his thickness, tongue working the vein underneath while your hand pumped what wouldn’t fit. spit slicked him up quick, dripping down to your fingers, making every stroke wet and smooth. his breathing turned ragged, chest heaving under the hoodie, small huffs of air escaping every time you bobbed your head.
“shit… just like that,” he whispered, voice strained. one hand left your hair to brace against the dashboard, knuckles white, like he needed something to hold onto. the other stayed in your curls, petting now—gentle strokes that made your scalp tingle. his hips rocked up shallow, careful not to choke you, but enough that you felt him hit the back of your throat once, twice.
your eyes watered a little from the stretch, but you didn’t stop—sucked harder on the upstroke, swirled your tongue around the head every time you pulled back. the wet sounds filled the car, mixing with his soft groans and the low idle of the engine. windows fogged thicker, streetlights barely cutting through.
he looked down at you—eyes dark, half-lidded, lips parted. “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep—fuck—”
his thighs tensed under you, abs flexing hard under the hoodie. he tugged your hair once, light, like a warning.
you moaned around him. vibration humming down his length, and took him deeper one last time, nose brushing his pelvis, throat working to swallow around him. that did it.
he came with a choked groan, low and broken, hips jerking up as he spilled hot and thick down your throat. you swallowed what you could, the rest dripping from the corners of your mouth when you pulled back slow, gasping for air. his dick twitched against your tongue one last time, spent but still hard.
he panted heavy, head dropped back against the seat, eyes closed for a second. then he opened them, looked at you. lips swollen, chin messy, curls wild from his hands. something soft flickered in his expression.
“cmere,” he murmured, voice hoarse and low, still rough from everything.
he pulled you up gentle, one hand steady on your waist while the other wiped the corner of your mouth with his thumb—catching the last of his nut. then he kissed you deep-slow, tongue sliding in without hesitation, tasting himself on you like it was nothing. hand cupped your jaw firm but soft, thumb stroking the line of your cheek, keeping you close.
you broke the kiss first, breathing uneven, eyes bright and eager. pupils blown wide, lips parted and shiny. you looked at him like you were still starving, like nothing would be enough until you had all of him.
you hooked your thumbs into the waistband of your sweatpants and shoved them all the way off—gray fabric sliding down your legs, kicking them to the floor mat with your clogs. panties went next, tugged down quick and tossed aside. bare now from the waist down except the crop top still bunched high under your tits, thighs slick and trembling in the dashboard glow.
megumi watched every second of it, dark blue eyes tracking the way the material pooled around your ankles then disappeared. a soft smile tugged at his lips. quiet, almost fond, like he couldn’t believe you were this bold.
“what?” you asked, a slight attitude in your voice, head tilting as you caught him staring.
he rubbed his lips with his thumb once, slow, like he was buying time. “nothing—tryna figure out how we’re gonna fuck in my car.” slight sarcasm laced the words, but his eyes stayed soft, hungry.
you rolled your eyes, small huff leaving you. “push your seat back so i can ride you duh?”
he huffed a quiet laugh—barely there, more breath than sound. didn’t argue. just reached down with one hand, found the lever under the seat, and shoved it all the way back. the seat reclined with a soft click, giving you more room, his legs spreading a little wider under you.
his dick still hard, flushed pink at the tip bobbed against his stomach when he settled, hoodie riding up higher to show the cut of his abs.
you didn’t wait. shifted forward, knees bracing on either side of his hips now that nothing was in the way. bare skin against bare skin, heat meeting heat. reached down between you, wrapped your fingers around him.
hot, thick and twitching in your grip. lined him up slow, rubbing the head through your wet folds twice, teasing yourself until you both moaned.
his hands came to your hips. palms warm, fingers digging in just enough to steady you. no rush, no push. just holding, waiting for you to take what you wanted.
you sank down slow. inch by inch, feeling the stretch, the burn, the way he filled you up deep and thick. your breath hitched up, thighs trembling as you bottomed out, he groaned low in his throat, head tipping back against the headrest for a second, eyes squeezing shut.
“fuck…” he breathed, voice wrecked and rough. hands flexed on your hips, thumbs stroking slow over the soft curve there. “kiss me.”
the words came out more stern than usual, low and commanding in that quiet way he had. you rushed forward, crashing your lips to his, desperate and messy. your pussy clenched down hard around him the second your mouths met—fluttering tight against his fat dick, walls pulsing like they were trying to pull him deeper. a small whimper slipped into his mouth, muffled by his tongue sliding in slow to meet yours.
his hands slid down, gripped your ass firm—fingers digging into the soft flesh—and he lifted you up easy, just enough to slide almost all the way out before he fucked back into you slow. deep, controlled thrusts that made your toes curl against the seat. every time he bottomed out again you moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating between you.
your hands gripped his face first—palms cupping his jaw, thumbs brushing the sharp line there—then slid up into his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands. you tilted his head to the side, pressing it back against the cool window glass so you could kiss him deeper, tongue curling with his while he kept that slow rhythm—lifting you, dropping you, grinding up every time your hips met.
“fuuck—feel so good—” he groaned in pieces, words breaking against your lips between kisses. voice low and wrecked, cracking at the edges. his breathing turned heavier, chest heaving under the hoodie, abs flexing hard every time he thrust up.
one hand stayed locked on your ass, guiding the pace, while the other slid up your back under the crop top, palm flat and warm against bare skin, holding you close so your tits pressed tight to his chest.
you rocked down harder to meet him, hips rolling in small circles when he was buried deep, clit grinding against his pelvis. pleasure sparked sharp every time, making your thighs shake around him.
you pulled his hair a little harder. tilting his head more, kissing along his jaw, down to the soft spot under his ear, sucking light until he hissed and his hips snapped up sharper once.
“megumi…” your voice came out small, needy, muffled against his neck. you wanted to speed up—your body was screaming for it, hips twitching like they had a mind of their own—but megumi only held you down firmer, palms locked on your ass, keeping you seated deep. he gave you little circle thrusts instead—slow, deliberate grinds that dragged the head of his dick right over your g-spot, teasing it relentless. your eyes rolled back, lashes fluttering, a shaky whimper slipping out before you could stop it.
until his phone rang—sharp, cutting through everything.
“shit.” he cursed under his breath, low and annoyed. he glanced at the screen. your brother. of course.
he answered the facetime without thinking twice, thumb swiping quick, then propped the phone up on the arm rest so the camera caught mostly his face and the dark interior of the car. you gripped his shoulders harder. nails digging through the hoodie. heart slamming in your chest, panic mixing with the pleasure still pulsing low in your stomach.
megumi didn’t stop moving. still fucked you slow, hips rolling in tiny, shallow circles that kept the wet sounds faint but constant. your soft moans leaked out anyway. quiet, breathy, impossible to hide completely.
“yo? where y’all at?” your brother asked, voice tinny through the speaker. he was back in megumi’s room. gray comforter still bunched on the bed.
megumi’s jaw clenched. he tried to keep his voice steady. “shit—nothing—makin’ runs.” but the words cracked at the end, a groan slipping in when your pussy clenched tight around him again. fluttering hard from the slow drag over your spot. he bit the inside of his cheek, eyes flicking down to you for a split second.
dark and warning.
you couldn’t help it. the fear made everything sharper. you ground down against his deep, slow strokes—hips circling needy—and that drove him crazy. his grip on your ass tightened, fingers digging in.
“fuuck—” he moaned, low and broken, trying to swallow it but failing.
your brother’s face balled up on the screen—brows furrowing, suspicious. “oh word—where my sister?”
megumi’s breathing hitched. he forced his voice even, but it came out rougher than he wanted. “she’s… right here.” he shifted the phone just a fraction—enough that the camera caught the top of your head.
your curls spilling over his shoulder, but not low enough to show anything else. your face stayed buried in his neck, lips pressed to skin to muffle the next whimper when he gave another slow, deep grind.
you felt him throb inside you—harder now, like the risk was turning him on even more. your thighs trembled around his hips, slick dripping down where you were joined.
your brother paused on the screen. “she good? put her on.”
megumi’s hand slid up your back under the crop top calm, steady thumb stroking your spine like he was telling you to breathe. he didn’t stop moving, just kept those shallow, teasing rolls that kept you fluttering around him.
“h-hello?” you managed, voice shaky, waiting for your brother to respond. megumi picked up his pace right then—going a little faster, a little harder. hips snapping up just enough to make your breath hitch loud.
“you good? mom called you?” your brother asked, squinting at the screen. he could only see the top of your head, curls spilling over megumi’s shoulder, the car ceiling behind you. “put yo’ face in the screen.” he demanded, voice sharper.
you moaned softly. couldn’t hold it back. trying to hide it in your throat but megumi’s dick hit that spot again, heat racing up your back, making your toes curl against the seat. “i’m—no she didn’t call me.”
your brother leaned up closer to the phone hearing th faint noises. his face twisted mad. “what the fuck—megumi i know damn well you ain’t fuckin’ my little sister.”
megumi laughed—low, breathy, almost surprised at himself. the sound vibrated through his chest into yours. he didn’t stop thrusting, just slowed it back to those deep, lazy circles that made your eyes roll again.
“relax,” he said, voice rough but steady, like he wasn’t buried balls-deep in you right now. “she’s fine. we just… talkin’.”
your brother’s face got darker on the screen. “talkin’? nigga i hear her breathin’ like that. move the phone—let me see her face.”
megumi glanced down at you. eyes dark, lips parted, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth now. he shifted the phone higher with his free hand, angling it so the camera caught more of your face.
lips swollen, eyes glassy and half-lidded. you bit your lip hard to keep quiet, but another slow grind from him pulled a small, broken whimper out anyway.
your brother sucked his teeth loud. “yo—y’all really out here? in the fuckin’ car? megumi i swear—”
megumi cut him off calm, still moving inside you slow and deep, making your thighs shake harder. “she’s safe. we’re good. i got her.”
you gripped his shoulders tighter, nails digging in, trying to stay still but your hips rolled down on instinct—chasing the friction. megumi’s breath hitched quiet, hand flexing on your ass to hold you down.
your brother rubbed his face, frustrated. “man…take her ass home. now. megumi—if you hurt her—”
“i won’t.” megumi’s voice dropped lower, serious for the first time. “promise.”
your brother stared for a long second, face twisted up on the screen, then sighed heavy like the weight of it all hit him at once. “hell no— bring her back now. stop this shit.”
megumi didn’t flinch. didn’t even pause the slow grind of his hips. still deep inside you, still making your thighs shake every time he circled just right. his thumb kept stroking lazy up your spine under the crop top, calm as ever, like your brother wasn’t yelling at the phone.
“we’re good,” megumi said low, voice steady even though you felt him throb harder when your pussy clenched again from the tension. “she’s safe. i’ll bring her home when she’s ready.”
your brother sucked his teeth louder, leaning closer to the camera. “nigga you got my sister in the car—fucking her? my little sister.”
you reached for megumi’s phone quick—fingers fumbling—and hung it up. the little hang-up noise cut through sharp, screen going black. the second it did, you let go—moaning loud against his neck, no more holding back.
you slapped your ass down hard to meet his dick, the wet smack echoing in the car. “oh my god.” your eyes rolled back to the stars, lashes fluttering, whole body lighting up from the inside.
megumi watched you—bottom lip caught between his teeth, dark blue eyes locked on every twitch of your face, every bounce of your curls with each thrust. he didn’t say much, just let his hands grip your hips tighter, guiding you down harder while he rolled up slow to meet you halfway.
your curls bounced wild—sweat-damp strands sticking to your neck, your shoulders—as you rode him faster now, no restraint. the car rocked with it, seats creaking faint under the rhythm.
“oh my god you feel so go—” you winced, gripping his shoulders hard, nails digging through the hoodie fabric. thighs shaking, pussy fluttering tight around his thick length every time you bottomed out.
“how—how good?” he asked, voice rough, breathy, picking up his pace to match yours—deeper, harder, hips snapping up sharp. your legs shook worse, knees buckling against the seat.
you could barely respond—words dissolving into an inaudible moan, high and broken, spilling out against his collarbone. your head tipped back, mouth open, curls falling wild down your back. every thrust punched the air out of you, pleasure spiking sharp and hot up your spine.
megumi’s hand slid up—cupped the back of your neck gentle but firm—pulling you down so your forehead rested against his. “tell me,” he murmured, lips brushing yours between thrusts. “how good—say it.”
“so—so—ugh-so good,” you gasped out finally, voice cracking. “megumi—right there—don’t stop!”
he groaned low—hips stuttering once when you clenched hard around him. “yeah?” his thumb brushed your cheek quick, wiping a stray tear from the intensity.
“gonna cum on my dick? right here?”
“mhmm.” you sucked at your bottom lip.
“gonna let me nut in you.” he fucked into you harder now, hands locking on your hips, holding you down so every thrust bottomed out deep, the head of his dick kissing that spot over and over.
“yes—yes please.” the words tumbled out.brain foggy and breathless, knowing damn well you weren’t on any birth control. the thought barely registered.
just heat and want and the way he filled you up so completely you couldn’t think straight. you didn’t think he’d actually do it
he watched you close. dark blue eyes locked on every flicker of your face, one hand sliding up into your curls, fingers threading gentle but firm to tilt your head back so he could see you better.
the other stayed clamped on your hip, guiding the rhythm, keeping you flush when you tried to lift too high.
“tell me how much you want this nut.” voice low, rough, almost a growl. he didn’t speed up. just kept that deep, steady grind, dragging every inch in and out slow enough to make your thighs shake harder.
your eyes fluttered closed, lips parted on a shaky breath. “r-really bad. nut in my pussy please—please megumi.”
something shifted in his expression.
softened for a split second, then darkened again, pupils blown wide. he leaned in, nose brushing yours, lips ghosting over your mouth without kissing you.
“yeah? you want it that bad?” he murmured, hips rolling slow circles now, grinding deep so you felt every thick inch pressing against your walls.
you nodded fast, frantic. nails digging into his shoulders through the hoodie. “yes—please—i want it—want you to nut in me—daddy!”
he groaned quiet—almost pained—then kissed you hard, tongue sliding in deep while his thrusts turned sharper, faster. the car rocked with it, wet sounds louder, your moans spilling into his mouth. his hand in your curls tightened just a little, holding you there so he could swallow every sound.
pussy fluttering wild around him. and that was it. his hips snapped forward one last time, burying deep, holding you flush as he came. hot, thick pulses spilling inside you, filling you up until you felt it leak out around his dick..
he groaned low into your neck, arms wrapping tight around your waist, keeping you seated while he throbbed through every spurt.
you shook hard. another wave crashing over you from the feeling alone, thighs clamping, back arching, a broken cry muffled against his shoulder as your pussy milked him dry.
then it hit you.
“megumii—” you whined, voice small and shaky, lifting up slow off his lap. his dick slipped out with a wet sound, falling heavy against the black hoodie, still twitching a little. you looked down between your legs—bare thighs spread over his, and saw his nut already dripping out, thick white cream sliding slow down your inner thigh, pooling on the seat beneath you.
“what?” he said calmly, with a bit of question in his voice, like he genuinely didn’t see the problem yet. he leaned back against the seat, breathing still heavy, one hand resting loose on your hip while the other rubbed slow at the back of his neck.
“megumi—did you really just nut in me?” your fingers dipped between your folds quick. feeling the warmth, the slick mix of both of you.
then pulled back, white cream coating your fingertips. you held them up like evidence, eyes wide, heart suddenly slamming harder than it had during the whole thing.
he glanced down at your hand, then back to your face. rubbed his neck a little harder, ears flushing red again in the dashboard glow. “you told me to?”
you blinked. “i—yeah but—” your voice cracked, half-laugh half-panic. “i didn’t think you’d actually do it. like… for real.”
he exhaled slow through his nose, eyes flicking to where his cum was still leaking out of you, then back up. no smirk, no joke—just that quiet, steady stare he always had.
“you said please. a lot.” he shrugged one shoulder, voice low. “thought you meant it.”
you stared at him, mouth open a little. the car felt smaller suddenly, air thicker. your thighs still trembled from the aftershocks, pussy dripping slower now, staining the edge of his hoodie where it bunched up.
“megumi…” you whispered, fingers still sticky. “i’m not on anything.”
he paused. really paused. the calm cracked just a fraction—jaw tightening, eyes searching your face like he was replaying every word you’d said in the last ten minutes.
“shit,” he muttered under his breath, hand dropping from his neck to your thigh. thumb stroked once over the soft skin there, gentle, almost apologetic. “you serious?”
you nodded fast, curls bouncing. “deadass. no pill, no shot, nothing.”
he rubbed his face with one hand. slow, like he was processing, then looked back at you. no panic in his voice, just quiet.
“okay.”
“okay?” you echoed, voice pitching up.
“yeah.” he sat up a little straighter, hands sliding to your waist to steady you. “we’ll figure it out. pharmacy’s open late. we can get plan b right now if you want. or tomorrow. whatever you need.”
“aw megumi.” you wrapped your arms around his neck in a tight hug, face burying into the crook of his shoulder. his hoodie smelled like him. faint weed,body spray, and now sex. you squeezed harder, curls tickling his jaw.
his face went back to that boring look. blank, almost indifferent, dark blue eyes half-lidded like he was already thinking three steps ahead. but you felt it.
the way his arms came around you slow, careful, one hand settling at the small of your back, the other cradling the back of your head like he didn’t want you to pull away. he didn’t say anything. didn’t need to. he loved every second of this with you.
you stayed like that for a beat—engine humming low, windows fogged, night pressing in—until the thought hit you harder.
“wait—what if it doesn’t work?” you pushed back just enough to look at his face, hands still looped around his neck. your brows furrowed, eyes searching his.
he sighed. like you’d asked a dumb question, but soft, no edge to it. jus patient. he rubbed slow circles on your lower back under the crop top, eyes flicking down to where his cum was still leaking slow between your thighs, then back up to meet your gaze.
“then we figure that out too,” he said quiet, voice low and even. “together.”
you blinked fast, throat tight. “you’d… really?”
he nodded once—simple, no hesitation. “yeah. whatever happens. happens— i’m not leavin’ you.” his thumb brushed your cheek again, wiping away nothing this time, just touching.
a small laugh slipped out of you—shaky, relieved. you leaned your forehead against his, curls falling forward to curtain both your faces.
“you’re gonna be a dad at like… twenty-something?” you whispered, half-joking, half-serious.
he huffed soft—almost a laugh—nose brushing yours, breath warm against your lips. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark blue steady in the dim dashboard light.
“i’m starting to think you want this.” he looked up at you, hands still on your hips, thumbs stroking slow.
you blinked, caught off guard. heat rushed back to your cheeks—different from the sex heat, more nervous, more real. you bit your bottom lip, curls falling forward to curtain half your face.
“maybe i do,” you admitted small, voice cracking a little. “a little. like… not right now, not like this, but—” you shrugged one shoulder, eyes dropping to where his hoodie was still bunched up, stained and messy from both of you. “the idea doesn’t scare me as much as it should. with you.”
he didn’t say anything right away. just watched you, expression blank like always, but his grip on your hips tightened—just a fraction, enough to feel protective. his thumbs kept moving, slow circles that felt like he was thinking hard.
“yeah?” he finally murmured, voice low. “you’d really want that? me as the dad?”
you nodded slow, fingers playing with the strings of his hoodie. “you’re… calm. steady. you don’t freak out. even when my brother was on the phone yelling, you didn’t lose it. you just… handled it.” you looked up at him again, lashes fluttering. “i’d want someone like that. someone who’d stay.”
he exhaled slow through his nose, eyes searching yours for a long beat. then he leaned in, forehead resting against yours again, curls mixing with his dark hair.
“i’d stay,” he said simple, quiet, like it was fact. “no question.”
your heart squeezed—hard. you wrapped your arms around his neck tighter, pulling him closer until your chests pressed together, heartbeat thumping against his.
“but we’re still getting the plan b,” you whispered against his ear, half-laughing. “i’m not tryna have a baby in the back of your car tonight.”
he huffed again. closer to a real laugh this time—arms sliding around your waist to hold you flush. “okay.” he kissed the side of your head softly. then pulled back just enough to look at you.
“okay let’s go to the pharmacy and then get you some food.”
his lashes fluttered as he looked up at you. your arms still around him, “okay.” you didn’t want to move—didn’t want the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his chest under your palms, to end. you wanted to stay like this forever, skin to skin, messy and close. “i wanna stay like this for a minute.”
his lashes fluttered as he looked up at you—slow blink, almost surprised, but no protest. your arms stayed looped around his neck, fingers playing absent with the soft hair at his nape. “okay.”
and you did.
you let your head drop to his shoulder, cheek pressed to the worn black hoodie that smelled like him. weed, body spray, sex, and now you. your breathing slowed, matching his. the car was quiet except for the faint tick of the cooling engine and the occasional distant car passing on the main road.
his nut still leaked slow from you, warm and sticky between your thighs, dripping onto his sweatpants where they bunched at his hips, but you didn’t care. didn’t move to fix it.
you knew he’d handle it. knew he’d take care of the mess, the plan b, whatever came next, without making you feel small about it.
he eased back against the seat careful, reclining it a little more so you could settle comfortably. one arm stayed wrapped around your lower back, hand splayed wide to keep you secure.
the other reached over, cracked the driver’s side window just an inch. cool night air slipping in, carrying the faint smell of pine and distant rain.
then he cut the engine completely. silence wrapped around you both, broken only by his soft, even breathing and the occasional rustle of your curls against his neck when you shifted in your sleep.
he didn’t sleep right away. just sat there. still inside the moment with you draped over him like you belonged there. his free hand came up slow, fingers threading gentle through your curls, stroking from root to tip in lazy, soothing motions.
he watched the way your lashes rested against your cheeks, the soft part of your lips, the way your body finally relaxed completely against his after everything.
minutes stretched. maybe ten, maybe twenty. he didn’t check the time. just let you rest, thumb brushing slow circles on your bare back under the crop top when you sighed in your sleep. his own breathing stayed steady, calm, even though his heart was still thumping harder than usual under your palm.
you stirred a little, moving closer without waking fully. he huffed soft again, almost a laugh.
he kissed the top of your head one more time, then let his own eyes close for a bit. not sleeping, just resting.
the pharmacy could wait another few minutes. the wings could wait. your brother’s texts, probably blowing up his phone by now could wait.
right now it was just this.
you asleep on his chest, safe in his arms, his cum still warm inside you, the night quiet around the car.
he’d wake you soon. get the plan b. get food. take you home. or back to his place if you asked.
How can Professor Satoru not jerk his cock to his pretty college student's photos?
Moaning raggedly from pretty pink lips as he makes sure to give each picture the proper amount of attention. He just loves your tits, your face, those thighs in the little skirts you wear, how can he not worship you properly?
Dont you deserve his cum inside your pretty cunt? All unused - he's heard you complain that you're a virgin, well thats because you were just waiting for him. You were waiting to have him break you open, have you struggle to take his cock even as you're squirting right down him.
He knows you moan his name when you touch your pretty pussy, it's not like he doesn't have a camera in your dorm room. He sure didn't like when you kissed that boy and straddled him yesterday, but he'd forgive you - you're young and don't know any better.
But how you look at him?
How you shift your thighs, bite your lip, and come up with excuses to see him after class?
You know you're meant to be bred by him - couldn't finish school if you had a Gojo baby inside you.
"Hah. Gonna fill you so fuckin good baby doll." that was your nickname even if Gojo hasn't called you it yet, it's the one he'll call you when he has you folded in half on his bed, right inside his penthouse. Have you fucked into those expensive sheets, let your pretty cunt drip down them and make a mess.
He's desperately jerking his cock, whimpering as his thumb brushes over his pretty pink tip - coated in a mix of his saliva and that beading precum, leaning his head back and catching his lip between his teeth. He's right on his lunch break in class, and students are bound to come, but he's day dreaming of splitting you in half on his cock.
"Hah, don't be shy baby," he whispers, chuckling with his snowy lashes fluttered shut. "I'll give you all my cock, fuck I'll cum in all your holes - mmm, don't worry about being loud. Let that boy you like hear you cum f'me."
Satoru's closer when he scrolls and catches that video he took last night of you, your much shorter fingers failing, all frustrated and huffing, the filthy sounds of his huge hand sliding up his slick cock echoing in the classroom.
"That's it, fuck you're tight but d-don't worry, take it easy your first time," he smirks as his cock jolts, picturing taking you for himself, busting his load all over his hand with a weak little whimper. "What you do to me... fuck..."
knock knock knock.
Shit.
Satoru rushes as he sees you peek your head up, smiling through the window as he awkwardly shoves his cock back in his slacks, wiping his hand with a pair of panties he took from your laundry. He hastily straightens and opens the door, smiling down at you.
"Professor Gojo, um could you help me with this? I'm sorry I just am tired lately and missed this part of the lecture," you murmur, eyeing his chin then, a little drop of white on it. "Do you mind?"
"Not at all, for my favorite student," you blush and walk in, he closes the door behind him, walking over to the desk, your eyes stuck on his chin. "Got something on my face?"
"Yes actually, do you mind?" He pauses and you swipe that white liquid off curiously, looking at it and blinking as Satoru about loses his shit.
Fuck, cum got on his face!?
"I - hah - was just eating some mochi you know, sweet tooth," he teases, taking your hand but not before you lap his cum off your thumb, lips wrapping - his cock violently twitches as you look at him and smile a bit, your eyes lidded as you suck.
God you're ruining him.
"Oh it's sweet," you murmur, leaning over just a bit, your pretty tits begging for his mouth as your sweater falls open. "You should let me have some, Professor."
P݁rofessor Satoru has no issue sharing his dessert with his favorite student <3
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, superhero!JJK men, Venom, slight tentacIes, sIight bréeding, aphrodísiacs, rough s, spítting, chokíng, p sIapping, p talking, manhandIing, HEADLOCKS, matíng presses, enemies-to-Iovers (Geto), handcuffs, pIot, REACTIONS, paparazzi, x-ray vision, super strength, heightened senses, true form!Sukuna, four arms, POWERS, ínappropriate use of powers, making superheroes BREAK, creampíes, cúmpIay, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. Mwahahaha…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Venom.
“So…let me get this straight-” Temples throbbing—you’re unsure whether that was from just how many times your boyfriend’s had to explain his particular…conundrum to you, or from the conundrum itself.
And Toji sits in front of you with his hands clutched on top of the table- almost in a pleading motion. He looks around warily at the other people in this bustling café - why on Earth he decided to choose such a public place for such a confession was inconceivable to you.
It was a wonder in and of itself when you don’t burst into hysterics, “You were in your lab working on some experiments you should definitely not have been working on-” Shooting him a look that receives you a sheepish grin. “-and ended up getting infected by some…parasite?”
“Symbiote.”
“Right. Symbiote.” You correct tightly, “And this symbiote can talk, think, and even make itself known through you?”
“Ah- pretty much.” Toji shrugs.
“And this symbiote wants to see me why-”
“You’re ovulating.”
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-
fem!reader, college au, renji's ex, best friend's ex trope, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, creampie, voyeurism via facetime, all acts between adults
pairing: ichigo kurosaki x fem!reader (renji's ex)
description .✦ ݁˖: renji's best friend ichigo gets stuck with you for a paired lit project after the professor randomly assigns partners. you show up at his house to work on it, renji's been texting every hour like the anxious ex he is. when ichigo stops replying, renji facetimes, and instead of being upset, he guides ichigo on how to fuck you right.
3.2k words
𐙚🧸ྀི
you'd been dreading this project since the professor announced the pairings last week. contemporary literature, 20-page comparative analysis on themes of betrayal and hidden desire in classic texts.
of course she randomized it. of course you got paired with ichigo kurosaki — renji's best friend, the one guy you'd spent the last six months trying not to think about every time renji brought him up in a converstation.
you showed up at the kurosaki house around seven, backpack slung over one shoulder, wearing an oversized hoodie and loose shorts because it was supposed to be "just homework." isshin was already out with the twins for some soccer thing, so the house was quiet except for the low hum of the fridge downstairs. ichigo opened the door in gray sweats and a black tank, orange hair still damp from a shower, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"hey," he muttered, stepping aside. "room's upstairs. figured we'd spread out on the floor so we don't mess up my desk."
you followed him upstairs, trying not to think too much about it, but the second you stepped into his room it hit you, that clean laundry smell mixed with the faint trace of his cologne, soft but addictive, the kind that just lingers in the air and makes your chest tighten a little, because there’s just something about a man who smells good. bed made (barely), posters of old bands on the walls, figurines lined up on the shelf like he couldn't let the old life go even in college.
you dropped your bag and sat cross-legged on the carpet while he pulled up the shared doc on his laptop.
renji's first text came twenty minutes in.
renji: yo you good? she being weird or nah?
ichigo glanced at his phone, snorted softly, and typed back one-handed without looking at you.
ichigo: she's fine. focus on your own shit.
you pretended not to notice.
the project started normal enough — you reading passages out loud, him highlighting, both of you arguing over thesis statements like it was any other group work. but the air kept getting thicker. every time his knee brushed yours reaching for the highlighter. every time you leaned over to point at something on the screen and your hoodie slipped off one shoulder. every time he looked at you a second too long when you laughed at his dumb joke about the protagonist being "a dumbass like renji."
another text buzzed.
renji: make sure she eats something. she forgets when she's stressed.
ichigo rolled his eyes and showed you the screen this time. "your ex is worried about your blood sugar. cute."
you snatched the phone and typed back yourself.
you: mind your business.
you tossed the phone back. heat crawled up your neck. ichigo was watching you now, orange eyes darker than usual.
"you two still talk like that?" he asked, voice low.
"sometimes." you shrugged. "he's… renji."
ichigo hummed. didn't say anything else. but his hand stayed on the carpet closer to your thigh than it needed to be.
an hour later the texts had slowed, but the tension hadn't. you were both on the floor now, papers spread everywhere, your back against his bedframe and his shoulder almost touching yours. the room felt too warm. your shorts had ridden up. his tank clung to his chest every time he reached for a book.
he leaned in to point at a line you'd underlined. his breath brushed your ear.
"you highlighted the wrong part," he murmured. "she doesn't betray him because she wants to. "
your stomach flipped. "that's not—"
his fingers brushed your wrist. slow. deliberate. "yeah it is."
you turned your head. he was right there. orange hair falling into his eyes, jaw tight, like he was fighting the same thing you were.
renji texted again.
renji: still alive? you been quiet for like 40 mins
ichigo ignored it this time. his thumb stroked once over the inside of your wrist.
"you gonna answer him?" you whispered.
"no." his voice dropped lower. "you want me to?"
you shook your head.
that was all it took.
he kissed you first — slow, like he was giving you time to pull away. lips soft but sure, tasting like the mint gum he'd been chewing earlier. you melted into it immediately, hand coming up to grip the front of his tank. the laptop slid off his lap. papers crinkled under your knees as he pulled you closer.
"fuck," he breathed against your mouth. "been wanting to do that since the breakup."
you climbed into his lap without thinking, straddling his thighs, hoodie bunching up around your waist. his hands slid under it immediately, palms hot against your bare back, pulling you down so you could feel him already half-hard in his sweats.
another text buzzed on the floor beside you. neither of you looked.
his mouth moved to your neck, sucking a mark just below your ear. "tell me to stop and i will."
"don't," you whispered, rolling your hips once. he groaned low in his throat.
clothes started coming off slow — your hoodie first, then his tank. his hands mapped every inch like he'd been imagining it for months. when he pulled your shorts down your thighs he paused, thumbs stroking the soft skin there.
"still sure?" he asked, voice rough.
you nodded, tugging at his sweats. his cock sprang free — thick, veiny, flushed dark at the tip already leaking. you wrapped your hand around him and stroked once, slow. he hissed through his teeth.
"shit… you're gonna kill me."
he flipped you onto your back on the carpet, papers scattering everywhere. he kneeled down between your legs and shoved your thighs open. his mouth was on you before you could even breathe — hot, wet tongue dragging through your folds, slow and patient like he had all night. two thick fingers slid inside you at the same time, curling just right.
you moaned loud enough that you clapped a hand over your mouth.
he pulled back just enough to smirk. "don't. i wanna hear it."
his phone lit up again on the floor.
renji: hello?? you good or what
ichigo glanced at it, then back at you, eyes dark. he didn't answer. just lowered his mouth again and sucked your clit hard enough to make your back arch off the floor.
ichigo's tongue flicked once more — quick, sharp, right over your clit before he pulled back completely. lips wet, chin glistening, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand slow, eyes never leaving yours. your thighs were still trembling around his shoulders, pussy clenching around nothing now that his fingers were gone. you felt empty, aching, slick dripping down your folds and onto the carpet.
he sat back on his heels, tank still on but shoved up to his ribs, sweatpants low enough that the thick base of his cock was visible. veins standing out, dark blue lines pulsing, his pretty pink head leaking steady against his abs. he didn't touch himself yet. just looked down at you spread out like that, papers scattered, hoodie crumpled beside your head.
"fuck," he breathed, voice low and wrecked. "look at you."
you tried to close your thighs. instinct, embarrassment… but his hands caught them immediately, thumbs pressing into the soft meat just above your knees, holding you open.
"don't," he said quietly. not mean. just firm. "let me see."
your chest rose and fell fast. nipples hard from the cool air and his earlier attention. you nodded — small, shaky, and let your legs fall wider.
he exhaled through his nose. one hand slid up the inside of your thigh — slow, deliberate, until his fingertips brushed the slick mess at your entrance. he circled once, collecting your wetness on his fingers, then brought them to his mouth and sucked them clean. slow. eyes locked on yours the whole time.
your stomach flipped hard.
"sweet," he muttered. almost to himself.
the phone buzzed again. short, angry vibration. renji. still texting.
ichigo glanced at it, then back at you. his free hand reached over, picked the phone up off the carpet, held it face-down for a second like he was deciding. then he flipped it over.
screen lit up. renji's name. text preview visible.
renji: yo answer me man what the fuck
ichigo's thumb hovered over the screen. he looked at you, question in his eyes.
"answer him?" he asked again, voice rougher now.
you bit your lip. heat flooded your face, your chest, everywhere. the idea of renji knowing, of him hearing, maybe even seeing- should've scared you. but right now, with ichigo between your legs, cock throbbing against his stomach, fingers still shiny from you…
it made you wetter. you nodded, and hit reply. typing one-handed, slow.
you: we're busy.
sent.
then he took the phone out your hand, and set it down, screen up, right beside your hip. close enough that if it lit up again, you'd both see it.
he leaned back over you. kissed the inside of your thigh— soft, open-mouthed, then higher. tongue dragged slow along the crease where thigh met hip. teasing. not quite touching where you needed him.
you whimpered. hips lifting.
"patience," he murmured against your skin. breath hot. "gonna take my time."
his mouth found your clit again, gentle this time. just lips brushing, then a slow, flat lick from entrance to hood. you gasped. fingers flew to his hair, gripping orange strands.
he hummed, vibration shooting straight through you, and he did it again. slower. letting his tongue linger at your entrance, dipping just inside before sliding back up to circle your clit in lazy, patient loops.
your breathing turned choppy. little "ah- ah-" sounds slipping out. thighs shaking harder.
he pulled back just enough to speak. lips brushing your folds.
"feel good?"
"y-yes—"
"good." he kissed your clit once, soft peck, then sucked it gently between his lips. tongue flicking underneath in quick little strokes while his fingers slid back inside. two at first, then three, stretching you slow, curling deep.
you moaned louder this time. couldn't help it.
the phone lit up again. buzz. buzz.
renji.
ichigo didn't stop. just kept that same slow rhythm, fingers pumping steady, tongue working your clit, free hand pinning your hip down so you couldn't buck too hard.
another buzz. then the screen flashed brighter.
incoming facetime.
renji's name glowing big.
ichigo paused, mouth still on you, fingers buried deep. looked up at you through his lashes.
you were panting. eyes glassy. pussy fluttering around his fingers.
he lifted his head slow. chin dripping. voice low.
"answer it."
your heart slammed against your ribs.
he reached for the phone, slow, and hit accept. switched to speaker. held it up so the camera caught both of you: you on your back, legs spread wide over his shoulders, pussy shiny and swollen; him kneeling between them, lips wet, eyes dark.
renji's face appeared. red hair messy, eyes wide, mouth open.
"yo what the fu—"
he froze.
saw you. saw ichigo. saw where ichigo's fingers were still inside you, where his mouth had just been.
silence stretched, thick, electric.
then renji exhaled hard. voice dropped low.
"…damn."
ichigo didn't move. just looked at the screen. then back at you.
"still sure?" he asked. quiet, just for you.
you nodded — small, desperate.
he smirked. small. turned the phone a little so renji got a better view.
then he lowered his mouth again, tongue dragging flat over your clit while his fingers curled deeper.
you moaned. loud, broken.
renji sucked in a breath on the other end.
for a second the facetime screen just showed his face, red hair messy like he'd been running his hands through it, eyes wide, mouth half-open like he couldn't decide whether to yell or hang up. then his expression twisted.
"yo- what the fuck, ichigo?!" his voice cracked through the speaker, loud and sharp. "that's my ex, man! my fucking ex! you got her spread out like that in your room? what the hell is wrong with you?"
ichigo didn't pull his mouth away. he just hummed low against your clit, vibration rolling through you- while his fingers kept that slow, deep curl inside. you whimpered, thighs twitching around his head. the phone was still propped up on the carpet beside your hip, camera catching everything: your flushed chest, the way your back arched, ichigo's orange hair between your legs.
ichigo finally lifted his head just enough to speak, lips shiny, voice calm like always. "she wanted it. told her to say stop if she didn't." his fingers never stopped moving — slow thrust, curl, slow thrust. "she didn't say stop."
you moaned again, louder this time… because the way he said it, so steady, made heat flood your stomach. renji's eyes flicked to you on the screen. his jaw clenched hard.
"baby…" the old nickname slipped out before he could catch it. his voice cracked again, but softer now. "you really lettin' him do this?"
you couldn't answer right away. ichigo's tongue dragged flat over your clit again, and your hips jerked. a shaky "yeah" came out instead.
renji stared. chest rising faster. the anger was still there, tight in his shoulders, but something else was winning. his hand disappeared off-screen for a second, then came back gripping the front of his sweats. you could see the outline already- thick, hard, pressing against the fabric.
"fuck," he muttered. "this is so messed up." but he didn't hang up. his thumb rubbed over the bulge once, slow. "i miss that pussy, man. i miss how she sounds when she's close."
ichigo smirked against your thigh. "then watch."
he finally pulled his fingers out, and sat back on his knees. you whined at the loss, pussy clenching around nothing. ichigo shoved his own sweats down the rest of the way. his cock sprang free. he gave it one slow stroke, eyes on you.
"condom?" he asked quiet.
you shook your head fast. "no. just… just you."
renji groaned on the phone. "shit… you serious?"
ichigo lined up, and rubbed the fat head through your slick folds once, twice, teasing your clit with it. then he pushed in. slow. inch by thick inch. you felt every vein, every ridge stretching you open until he was buried to the hilt, hips flush against yours. your back arched off the carpet.
"fuck," ichigo breathed, forehead dropping to yours for a second. "you didn't tell me how good her pussy is."
renji's laugh came out broken. "told you she was tight." his hand was moving now, slow strokes visible on camera, thumb swiping over the head every time he reached the top. "she likes it when you go deep and grind a little. like… circle your hips right there."
ichigo did exactly that, slow roll of his hips, grinding deep so the head rubbed that spot inside you over and over. you cried out, nails digging into his shoulders through his tank.
"yeah?" ichigo asked, voice rough. eyes flicking to the phone. "like this?"
renji nodded on screen, breathing hard. "just like that. she clenches when you hit it right." his hand sped up a little, wet sounds faint through the speaker. "and she likes when you talk to her."
ichigo's eyes dropped back to you. he started thrusting, deep strokes that made your tits bounce with every push. "you hear that, baby?" he murmured against your mouth. "renji's tellin' me how to fuck you. how to make this pretty pussy cream for me." he rolled his hips again, grinding. "you feel so fuckin' full, don't you? gonna fill you up even more. breed you right here while he watches."
you moaned loud, desperate. your eyes kept flicking to the phone. renji was fully stroking now, sweats shoved down, thick cock in his fist, veins standing out, tip glistening. he was watching you like he couldn't look away.
"goddamn," renji groaned. "look at her face. she's gettin' off on this. on me watchin'." his thumb swiped faster. "tell her to play with her clit while you fuck her."
ichigo didn't even hesitate. "touch yourself, baby. let him see."
your hand slid down between you, fingers circling your clit slow while ichigo kept those deep, steady thrusts. the angle let the camera catch everything. his cock sliding in and out, shiny with your slick, your fingers rubbing tight circles, the way your walls fluttered around him.
renji's breathing turned ragged. "fuck… she always did that little circle thing when she was close. you feel her squeezin' you?"
"yeah," ichigo growled. "she's grippin' me so tight. like she doesn't wanna let me pull out." his pace picked up, just a little, still controlled but harder. balls slapping soft against you with every thrust. "gonna cum inside you. gonna pump you so full you'll be leakin' me for days. you want t hat?"
you nodded fast, tears pricking your eyes from how good it felt. "yes, please, fill me up-"
renji cursed loud on the phone. his hand was flying now, strokes rough and fast. "shit… i'm close just watchin' this. she always looked so pretty takin' it deep."
you couldn't stop staring at the screen. watching renji jerk off, thick cock twitching in his fist, veins pulsing, pre-cum dripping over his knuckles, while ichigo fucked you deeper. it was too much. your fingers sped up on your clit. walls clamped down hard around ichigo.
"i'm- fuck- i'm gonna-"
"come on his dick, baby," renji rasped. "let him feel it. i wanna see you shake."
you shattered — back arching hard, moan breaking loud, pussy pulsing around ichigo's cock in tight, fluttering waves. your thighs shook. slick gushed around his base.
ichigo groaned. "fuck- milkin' me so good." he fucked you through it. harder now, chasing his own edge. "gonna cum."
renji's voice cracked. "do it. fill her up, man. i wanna see it leak out."
ichigo buried himself deep one last time, hips grinding in tight circles, and came with a low, broken groan. you felt every hot spurt — thick, endless pulses flooding you, spilling out around his cock because there was too much. he kept rocking slow, pushing it deeper, forehead pressed to yours.
"mine now," he whispered against your lips. "even if he's watchin'."
renji was still stroking on camera- slower now, chasing his own release. his eyes were locked on where you and ichigo were still joined, cum starting to drip out around ichigo's base.
"shit… look at that mess," he panted.
you couldn't stop the second wave, smaller but sharp, watching renji finally tip over the edge. he groaned loud, cum shooting over his fist, dripping down his knuckles while his eyes stayed glued to you.
for a long minute nobody moved. just heavy breathing and the faint wet sounds of ichigo still rocking inside you.
renji finally spoke up, chest heaving. "y'all… really did that."
ichigo pulled out slow, cum immediately leaking down your thighs. he grabbed a towel and gently wiped between your legs, careful, like you were something breakable.
"yeah," he said. "we did."
renji stared at the screen a second longer. then he exhaled hard —half laugh, half sigh. "well, i hope this was a one time thing."
the call ended.
ichigo tossed the phone aside. he pulled you up into his lap, arms wrapping around you tight, forehead pressed to yours again. his hands stroked slow down your back, gentle circles over your spine.
"you okay?" he asked quiet.
you nodded against his chest. still trembling. still leaking his cum onto his thigh. "yeah. that was… a lot."
he huffed a small laugh. kissed the top of your head. "we can pretend it didn't happen if you want."
you shook your head. "no, i enjoyed it."
his arms tightened. "good. 'cause i wanna do that again."
the room was quiet now, just your breathing and the faint rustle of papers under you. his hand kept stroking your back, slow and steady, like he had all night to hold you.
fem!reader (senior), college au, public/risky sexual content, explicit acts under blankets, teasing, voyeurism elements, consensual, all acts between adults
pairing: hiromi higuruma x fem!reader (with gojo watching/teasing)
description ⚡︎: it's a casual movie night at the frat house with gojo, geto, shoko, higuruma, and you. you're sitting in higuruma's lap under a big shared blanket. what starts out innocent quickly turns into something much riskier as higuruma gets hard and you both try to stay quiet while the others are right there.
1.9k words
𐙚🧸ྀི
the frat house living room was dimly lit, the only real light coming from the large tv playing some action movie none of you were paying much attention to anymore. empty beer cans and snack wrappers littered the coffee table. the rain from earlier had left the air cool, so everyone had dragged blankets over themselves on the massive sectional couch.
you were comfortably settled in higuruma's lap, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist under the thick blanket that covered both of you. gojo was sprawled out on your right, long legs stretched across the ottoman, one arm slung over the back of the couch behind you. geto sat on the other side of gojo, looking half-asleep, while shoko was curled up in the armchair with her own blanket, occasionally glancing at her phone.
the movie droned on- explosions, dramatic music, none of it registering.
higuruma's chin rested on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. he had been quiet most of the night, the way he usually was in group settings, but you could feel the tension in his body. his hands rested on your thighs, thumbs slowly stroking the soft fabric of your shorts.
you shifted slightly to get more comfortable.
that was all it took.
you felt him harden beneath you. slow at first, then unmistakably thick and firm, pressing up against your ass through his sweatpants and your thin shorts.
higuruma's breath hitched. his fingers tightened on your thighs.
"...sorry," he whispered against your ear, voice low and strained. "you moved and... fuck."
you bit your lip, heat pooling low in your belly. instead of pulling away, you rocked your hips back once — slow, subtle, teasingly.
he sucked in a sharp breath, arms tightening around you.
"careful," he murmured, barely audible. "they're right here."
but he didn't stop you.
you rocked again, slower this time, grinding down against the hard line of his cock. the friction made you both breathe a little heavier. under the blanket, his hand slid higher up your thigh, fingertips brushing the edge of your shorts.
gojo, sitting right beside you, laughed at something on the screen and turned his head slightly.
"yo, you two good over there? you're awfully quiet."
higuruma's voice stayed impressively steady.
"yeah. just watching."
you smiled innocently, even as you rolled your hips again, feeling higuruma's cock twitch against you.
gojo's eyes lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, but he turned back to the movie without comment.
higuruma's hand slipped under the hem of your shorts, fingertips brushing the edge of your panties. he didn't push further — just teased the sensitive skin there, breathing ragged against your neck.
"you're gonna kill me," he whispered so quietly only you could hear. "i'm so hard already... and you keep moving like that."
you turned your head just enough to brush your lips against his jaw.
"then do something about it," you murmured back.
his fingers dipped under your panties, stroking lightly over your already wet folds. you had to bite your lip to stay quiet.
the movie continued playing, explosions lighting up the room in flashes.
higuruma's middle finger circled your clit slowly, teasing, while his cock pressed insistently against your ass.
you rocked back again, grinding down harder this time.
he let out the softest groan against your shoulder, quickly masked as a cough.
gojo glanced over again, eyebrow raised.
"you catching a cold or something, higuruma?"
higuruma's voice was tight but calm.
"just the weather."
you smiled sweetly, even as his finger slipped lower and teased your entrance.
the blanket hid everything.
but the tension under it was growing hotter by the second.
the movie played on, explosions and dramatic music filling the room while gojo, geto, and shoko chatted casually over the noise.
gojo leaned back, stretching his long legs. "this movie's mid. the plot makes zero sense. who greenlit this?"
geto chuckled from the other side of him. "you picked it last time and it was worse. at least this one has decent cgi."
shoko, curled in the armchair with her blanket, didn't even look up from her phone. "both of you have terrible taste. pass the popcorn."
you barely registered their conversation.
higuruma's finger was still teasing your entrance under the blanket, slow and deliberate, while his hard cock pressed insistently against your ass. every tiny shift of your hips made him breathe a little heavier against your neck.
you rocked back again — subtle, but enough to grind against him.
geto snorted. "blame the frat's shitty hvac. pass me a drink?"
shoko tossed a can across without looking. "catch."
while they continued talking about the movie's terrible writing, higuruma's hand moved. he hooked a finger into your shorts and panties, tugging them aside just enough. the cool air under the blanket hit your slick folds for a second before his cock replaced it.
he pressed the thick head against your entrance.
you bit your lip hard.
he pushed in slowly, one inch, then another, stretching you open while trying to keep his breathing even. the blanket hid everything, but the feeling of him sinking inside you, bare and hot, made your thighs tremble.
higuruma's forehead dropped to your shoulder, a barely audible "fuck" breathed against your skin.
gojo was still talking, gesturing at the screen.
"i'm telling you, the villain's motivation is trash. who writes this crap?"
geto laughed. "you're just mad because there was no titties in this movie."
shoko rolled her eyes. "both of you shut up. i'm trying to watch."
you had to fight back a moan as higuruma bottomed out inside you, buried to the hilt. he was thick, filling you perfectly, and every tiny shift of your body made him twitch inside.
gojo suddenly turned his head toward you two again, that knowing smirk wider now.
"you two are awfully quiet over there. everything alright? you look a little... flushed."
higuruma's voice was low and controlled, even as his cock throbbed inside you.
"we're fine. just focused on the movie."
you nodded, trying to sound normal. "yeah... it's getting good."
gojo's eyes flicked down to the blanket for a split second, then back up. his smirk deepened.
"sure it is."
he reached over casually, like he was just adjusting the blanket for comfort, and his hand slipped underneath. his long fingers found your clit immediately, rubbing slow, teasing circles right above where higuruma was buried deep inside you.
you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning out loud.
gojo kept talking like nothing was happening, voice light and teasing.
"so, what do you guys think about the plot twist? i called it."
geto shrugged. "it was predictable."
shoko muttered, "pass the popcorn again."
higuruma's breath hitched against your neck as gojo's fingers moved faster, occasionally brushing the base of his cock where it disappeared inside you. higuruma's free hand tightened on your hip, holding you still so you wouldn't move too obviously.
you were caught between them — higuruma's thick cock stretching you open, gojo's skilled fingers playing with your clit, all while the others continued their casual conversation like nothing was happening under the blanket.
higuruma whispered against your ear, voice strained and quiet.
"you're so wet... i can feel you dripping down me..."
gojo leaned in a little closer, still rubbing your clit in perfect circles, and murmured under his breath so only you and higuruma could hear.
"be careful. wouldn't want the others to notice how much fun you're having."
you clenched hard around higuruma at his words.
he groaned softly into your shoulder, hips twitching up once before he forced himself still again.
geto leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms. "this plot is actually getting worse."
shoko, still curled in the armchair with her blanket, didn't even glance up from her phone. "let me pick the movie next time."
geto chuckled. "you say that every time and then we end up watching the same garbage again."
their conversation continued in the background — casual, relaxed, completely unaware of what was happening under the shared blanket.
you were trying so hard to stay quiet.
higuruma's cock was buried deep inside you, thick and throbbing. he was rocking into you with slow, shallow thrusts, careful not to make the blanket move too obviously. one of his hands stayed on your hip, holding you steady, while the other had slipped under your shirt to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple in gentle circles.
every thrust made you bite your lip harder.
gojo's fingers were still between your legs under the blanket, rubbing slow, teasing circles on your clit. he wasn't saying anything anymore, just watching the movie with a faint smirk, occasionally glancing at the way your thighs trembled.
geto kept talking. "i'm telling you, if they kill him off."
you clenched hard around higuruma as gojo's fingers pressed firmer on your clit. higuruma's breath hitched against your neck, his hips stuttering once before he forced himself to keep the rhythm slow and controlled.
he whispered against your ear, voice barely audible. "you're squeezing me so tight... i'm not gonna last much longer..."
you nodded shakily, trying to keep your breathing even while geto and shoko continued their light argument.
gojo's fingers moved faster, perfectly in time with higuruma's shallow thrusts. the dual sensation of higuruma's thick cock dragging along your walls and gojo's skilled fingers on your clit, pushed you right to the edge.
you came with a silent gasp, mouth open, body trembling as your pussy clenched rhythmically around higuruma. your thighs shook, toes curling, the pleasure rolling through you in waves while you fought to stay quiet.
higuruma groaned softly into your shoulder, the sound masked by another explosion on screen. his hips jerked once, twice, and then he buried himself deep, spilling inside you with hot, thick pulses. he kept rocking slowly through it, pushing his cum deeper, breathing ragged against your skin.
gojo finally slowed down, giving your clit one last gentle stroke before he pulled his hand back, and stuck his fingers in his mouth casually like nothing had happened.
geto was still talking. "what. the. fuck. i'm serious, if they do a sequel i'm not watching it."
the movie credits started rolling.
higuruma stayed inside you for a few more moments, softening slowly, his arms wrapped around your waist as he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck.
sukuna walked in first, carrying a six-pack of beers, a lazy, dangerous smirk on his face. behind him came mahito and choso, both looking bored but intrigued by the gathering.
"movie night without me?" sukuna drawled, kicking the door shut behind him. "how rude."
he dropped the beers on the coffee table with a loud clatter and flopped onto the remaining space on the couch, eyes immediately scanning the room — and lingering on the blanket covering you and higuruma.
mahito grinned, plopping down next to gojo. "looks cozy. what'd we miss?"
choso just grunted and took a seat on the floor, cracking open a beer.
gojo laughed, casual as ever. "just the worst movie of the year. you're right on time for the afterparty."
the night had just gotten a lot more crowded.
you were still catching your breath when your phone buzzed quietly in your pocket.
you pulled it out just enough to see the screen.
gojo: that was hot as fuck
gojo: my turn?
you stared at the text, heat rushing to your face again.
he doesn’t talk at all. he doesn’t think it’s worth it, wasting his breath on foolish little creatures he’d much rather cut up into pieces. you’ve heard him chuckle, moan, scoff and grunt… but never any words. he expresses everything through looks, gestures, or just destruction. somehow, you always know what he means. it’s scary how well you understand each other.
he leaves you creepy little gifts. a very expensive locket with a picture of you (taken without your knowledge), a heart-shaped box full of literal human hearts and eyeballs, blood-smeared note that says “mine”. he also clears all threats from your way. you just suddenly feel like the world is strangely safer around you, which is ironic because jason ! kuna is such a danger himself. but he doesn’t want anything big and scary to get his hands on you but him.
he gets extremely territorial of you. unlike a casual form of petty jealousy, jason ! kuna wants to drive an axe into the head of any man who thinks they have a chance with you. if a guy even talks to you, jason ! kuna is there snarling behind him with his machete in hand. later that night, he fucks you like he’s reclaiming you again, having a knife pressed against your throat, (flat end pressed against you with the tip pressing lightly to your clavicle). his other hand holds your jaw and mouths 'mine' while you cum underneath him.
if you're upset the price will be paid by everyone you've come in contact within the past couple hours. if you cry, he's gone, and you wake up later to the news that your ex has been found in a lake. your boss that grabbed you and yelled at you now has MISSING headlines on tv. a guy that perved on you at a bar? found in pieces. and sukuna walks in later, leaning down into your face and tilting his head innocently as if asking; “better now?” he huffs a laugh through his nose at your pouty face, covered in blood and smelling like smoke.
if the reason you're upset is because of him, he gets moody and sits in your room, watching you with a scowl on your face and expects you to forgive him. usually, if it's for something like biting you too hard during sex or tearing one of your pretty panties, you'll forgive him and let him eat you out all night as part of his apology.
but if it's for something more serious, like... well, murder, he'll get annoyed that you're mad he's protecting you and will either: disappear on you for several days in your shithole of a city so you don't have the comfort of his protection (he's secretly watching you the whole time, but you don't know that because it wouldn't work if you did) or he'll kidnap you, take you to his secret cabin and make you spend as long as it takes for you to forgive him in that house, imposing his presence onto you. when you do forgive him, he fucks you to celebrate!
sex is quite dramatic for him. he'll grab your face mid-fuck and mimes a camera click, he'll tie your wrists with whatever he can find, push your thighs open with his gloves still on. fucks you in front of a mirror just so he can point and sneer at how wrecked you look.
he plays games with you in bed too. his personal favorite is getting you so wet that his cock practically slips between your folds, then rubs his cock along your pussy and asshole and pushes his dick into whichever hole his tip catches on. he also likes to see how hard he can push you, whether its by fucking you until you're nearly unconscious from exhaustion, or choking you till your vision sparkles, or shoving his fingers or cock into your mouth as far as they go before you gag. he notes your limits in mind and is masterful in pushing you right till your brink every time.
he's quite mocking in bed, but his favorite form of it is to mimic your moans. you’ll be breathy and desperate like, “mmn! sukuna, please slow down- it's fuck- too big!” and he’ll mouth back your high pitched whines and babbling back at you in a ridiculous, over-the-top porn sounds just to mess with you. then he’ll immediately flip you over and rail you so hard the mattress slides. you can't walk properly the next day.
hiromi lost a case! what does he do? he fucks his secretary, of course. ⭐︎
higuruma hiromi just lost a case. it's kind of an oxymoron in itself. higuruma hiromi? losing? unheard of. it was news to his firm when the jury had ruled in the defendant’s . higuruma hiromi had lost his first case.
he's furious— there’s no denying it. years worth of a clean record now ruined by a singular juror. hiromi came back from the courthouse all red and rough with everything his fingers touched.
neat court papers are hastily dropped on his desk and his briefcase is thrown across the room. as his doting little secretary, you asked what was going on. that’s when he looked up at you with pure anger and lust in his eyes.
"over the table, now."
you follow his instructions in almost eagerly. opaque stockings were tossed to the side and your panties were shoved in his desk drawer (there’s a few other pairs in his drawer from previous activities).
it’s not every day that hiromi fucks you, so you spread yourself on his desk like the pretty meal you are. soon enough, you’re gripping on the ends of his mahogany desk while being stuffed full by his massive dick.
your button-up top is opened so hiromi's hands can palm your breasts and occasionally tweak your perky nipples. thighs spread to show off your sopping wet pussy and sensitive clit. with one hand on your mouth and the other on your leg, hiromi’s reduced you to his little fuck-doll.
“fucking jury…” he mutters, thrusts coordinating with every syllable. “going on about “more evidence needed”… had the damn evidence in front of ‘em.” hiromi delivers a harsh slap to your clit, coaxing a delicious whine from your mouth.
“h-higu!” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “it’s so much!” your brain can’t think straight right now when hiromi’s thick girth is stretching your tiny pussy wide open. when his cock brushes against your sensitive g-spot, your legs tighten around his waist.
hiromi growls and continues to snap his hips against yours, red tip kissing your cervix with a bump! bump bump! “you take what i give you.” he reprimands and a sudden increase in pace follows. “it’s your job after all, isn’t it?”
“y-yes, sir…!” you squeal when his hand makes contact with your pussy. “hi-higu it’s so much… i think i might—!” it’s at that moment when hiromi stops his brutal pace. his hand finds your clit and pinches it, hard. you let out a loud moan and throw your head back, sending a few pens to the ground.
“did my words not make sense to you, honey?” he asks in a pseudo-sweet voice. “is my pretty little secretary too fucked out to understand basic, coherent sentences?” you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head at his degrading (but sensual) words. “atta girl.”
hiromi lifts your hips up again and continues pounding into your gushing pussy. “be a good girl and let me relieve some anger, honey.” he coos, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. his gentle manner contrasts the sinful sensation he’s making your tight hole go through. the new angle he’s positioning you in allows him to get to both your g-spot and cervix with more ease.
“you know what would make me less angry, sweetheart?” he asks, folding your legs into a mating press. you shake your head, mind still focused on trying taking his dick without splitting in two. “why, a few months of paternity leave would certainly make me less angry.” oh.
hiromi leans closer to you, mouth against your ear. “think about it, honey— my favorite little secretary and i. and a little baby on the way.” he palms the bulge on your tummy, the imprint of his cock visible for all to see. “paid time off for the both of us— isn’t it perfect, sweetheart?”
your pussy clenches around his girth at the thought of it. hiromi smiles almost wickedly. “perfect girl, i knew you wanted it too.” without any warning, he bottoms out and slams his entire being into you once more, inciting a moan from the both of you.
“bear the paperwork for now, honey. in six months time, we’ll be off work together.”
contains! oral (f. receiving), a whole lot of horny thoughts, semi-public sex.
summary: clark’s taken you to visit his parents. he can’t seem to keep it together though, all he can think about is your pussy…
— original ask.
݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚ the Kent farmhouse was warm, lived in, and so wholesome it made Clark’s skin itch with guilt for what he was thinking.
he’d grown up here, every board creaking with memory, every corner carrying his mothers patience and his fathers steady hand. now he was sitting at the long kitchen table again, shoulders squared in a plaid shirt, trying to look like the good son he always was.
and you were across from him, wearing shorts that were so small they barely covered your ass.
it wasn’t your fault, you weren’t trying to be cruel. you were sweet to his ma, telling her that the pie cooling on the windowsill looked to die for, giggling when you asked about stories of Clark as a boy. you helped dry dishes, offered to set the table, complimented Martha’s flower arrangement for the centrepiece, smiled constantly.
and that should have been a relief… but Clark couldn’t focus on anything but the way your bare thighs stuck slightly to the kitchen chair, or how your sundress rode up when you leaned to pass him a plate. his cock had been hard under the table more times that he could count, straining thick and heavy against his jeans, leaking precum into his briefs while he smiled politely and answered his mothers questions about how work had been going or how he was finding metropolis lately.
every brush of your hand on his arm, every warm laugh, every innocent glance up at him with those wide eyes of yours was torture. you were sweet, wholesome and polite, and yet all he could think about was spreading your thighs wide and licking you until you cried out his name.
but not here. god, not here. not under his parents roof.
dinner came all too quick yet it dragged on for what felt like a century. you sat beside him, laughing at his fathers terrible jokes, leaning in close, your soft shoulder brushing his arm. his cock throbbed painfully, and he had to keep his napkin bunched up in his lap to hide the outline of it. by the time they were finished, Clark was so strung up he could barely think. and then you excused yourself to the porch, saying something about how the sun looked “so gorgeous on the plains”, Clark didn’t really pay attention though, because your little dress was fluttering around your thighs in the evening breeze when you stepped outside in a way that made him follow you like a dog.
you leaned over the railing, looking out over the fields with a soft smile, hair practically glowing in the golden light of the evening. he closed the door behind him, heart hammering, his whole body trembling with want. he said your name softly and you turned to him, smiling like you always did.
he crossed the space in two strides, hands grabbing at your waist, lifting your body. you gasped in surprise as he set you down on the wide porch railing, legs dangling, dress riding up indecently high.
“Clark—” you started, breathless, but he was already sinking to his knees in front of you.
it felt obscene—it was obscene—the farm spread out behind them, fireflies flickering in the tall grass, the faint sound of his mother humming inside while dealing with the dishes. and there he was, on his knees on the old wooden porch, about to shove his face in between your thighs.
he leaned in, mouth brushing up on your clothed cunt. your panties were thin cotton, pale and soft and already damp against his lips. he groaned low in his chest as he mouthed at you through the fabric, tongue pressing against your slit until you whimpered, clutching at his hair.
“Clark— oh, god—”
your sweetness, your scent, the way you trembled under his mouth, it all destroyed him. he licked broad, messy stripes over your cunt through the panties, sucking lightly, soaking the fabric with spit and your wetness. his cock throbbed through his jeans, painfully hard, perfume smearing in his briefs as he ground helplessly against nothing, desperate for any kind of relief.
he hooked a finger in the gusset of your panties and pulled them aside. the sight hit him as hard as an actual blow would: your pussy bare and glistening, lips swollen, clit peeking out, so close he could taste you.
Clark groaned, burying his face against your cunt. his tongue dragged up your slit, hot and wet, lapping greedily. he sucked at your clit, gentle at first, then harder when you gasped and pulled his hair. he was messy, desperate, smearing his face with your slick, moaning against you as if eating you out was the only thing that had ever mattered. you clutched the railing with one hand and his hair with the other, thighs trembling around his head, “Clark— ohmigod, Clark, fuck!!—”
the sound of you swearing from pure pleasure spurred him on. he licked into you, tongue thrusting, then up again to swirl around your clit. he couldn’t get enough. the taste of you filled his mouth, slick dripping down his chin, and he moaned against your pussy like he was cumming from the flavour alone.
“baby, please, don’t stop,” you gasped, rolling your hips against his mouth.
he didn’t, he couldn’t. he sucked your clit hard, tongue flicking fast, two fingers sliding up to tease at your entrance, spreading your wetness as he devoured you. you cried out, thighs squeezing tight around his head, and then you were cumming, shuddering, your cunt clenching as you spilled hot against his tongue.
Clark groaned, sucking harder, drinking you down. his cock pulsed in his jeans, so hard it hurt, precum soaking the denim, but he didn’t care. he just held your hips steady and ate you through it, lapping and suckling until you sagged against the railing, whimpering and spent.
when he finally pulled back, his face was wet with slick, chin glistening, lips swollen. he looked up at you with wide, adoring eyes, still kneeling like a man in prayer.
you sighed, tired but happy, and looked down at the problem at his crotch. “let’s… deal with you next.” you proposed, biting your lip as Clark rose to his feet.
he groaned a little as he looked down at himself tenting in his jeans, already trying to figure out a way to get through the house and up to the guest bedroom without letting ma and pa Kent see the… situation.
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