"I wanna fuck you hard, right here, and make you scream louder than this whole damn city," Zion growled, his voice cutting through the arena's chaos like a gunshot.
Midnight flinched, her violet eyes widening for a split second, a crack in her sultry armor. Her whip twitched in her grip, but she didn't run. "Big talk for a kid," she said, voice cool as steel, though a faint flush crept up her neck. "You think you can mouth off to a pro hero like that and just strut away?"
Zion's grin didn't budge. His infinite appeal pulsed from him, a heatwave he could see hitting her—her pupils dilating, her breath hitching just enough to betray her. "I'm not going anywhere," he said, stepping closer, voice low and thick with intent. "I want you, Midnight. Right now. Don't tell me you're not feeling this."
She held his stare, lips parting, but shook her head, trying to anchor herself. "You're way out of your depth. This is UA, not some sleazy club." Her words were sharp, but her body was a traitor—leaning toward him, fingers flexing like she was wrestling her own urges.
He doubled down, closing the gap until her Somnambulist mist filled his lungs, sweet and dizzying, like a drug pulling him in. "That's bullshit," he murmured, eyes locked on hers. "You're not just a hero. You're a woman who craves something real, not this fake-ass hero pageant." His fingers brushed her arm, light but deliberate, a spark that made her tense but not retreat.
Midnight's smirk flickered back, but it wobbled, less certain. "You're trouble," she whispered, almost to herself. Her gaze darted—robots smashing shit, students scrambling, cameras blinking far off. She exhaled, decision made. "Not here. Come with me."
Zion's grin turned feral as she led him through the arena's madness, dodging debris to a maintenance tunnel hidden behind a wrecked building. No cameras, no witnesses—just shadows, the hum of machinery, and the two of them. She stopped, turning to face him, her expression a mix of defiance and heat. "This doesn't mean you've won," she said, voice softer now, edged with something reckless.
"Doesn't it?" Zion stepped into her space, so close he could feel her warmth. His charm was a blade, slicing through her defenses, and he saw it—her breath quickening, her resolve cracking. "Kill your comms. You don't want the others hearing what's next."
Her fingers hovered at her earpiece, hesitating. His stare burned into her, unyielding, and she caved, clicking it off. The tiny light died. "You better make this worth it," she said, half challenge, half surrender, her eyes glinting with a hunger that matched his.
"Oh, I fucking will," Zion growled, and the air between them exploded.
Midnight moved first, shoving him against the tunnel wall, her hands splayed on his chest. Her bodysuit was a second skin, black leather hugging every curve—breasts straining, hips that could ruin a man, thighs that screamed power. She gripped her zipper, dragging it down with agonizing slowness, teasing him with flashes of skin—her full, heavy breasts spilling free, nipples peaked and begging, then her toned stomach, her slick thighs, until the suit pooled at her boots. She stood bare, a vision of raw, untamed desire, her violet hair cascading like a siren's call.
"Your turn," she purred, closing the distance. Her fingers toyed with his shirt, popping buttons one by one, nails scraping his skin, sending shocks through him. She took her time, savoring his flinch as she tugged his pants down, her knuckles brushing his hardening cock, smirking at his low groan. When he was naked, her eyes devoured him, slow and greedy. "Well, damn, kid. Not bad at all."
"Fuck your teasing," Zion rasped, but she was already on him, dropping to her knees, her glossy lips hovering inches from his throbbing length. She looked up, eyes wicked, and took him in—hot, wet, her tongue swirling around his tip, slow and deliberate. She sucked hard, lips sliding down, taking him deep until he hit the back of her throat. Her moans vibrated through him, a rhythm that drove him insane, her head bobbing with a skill that screamed experience. Zion's hands knotted in her hair, guiding her, but she owned this—every lick, every pull, pushing him to the brink.
"Not yet," he snarled, yanking her up. Midnight's laugh was low, filthy, as she shoved him to the ground and climbed over him. She straddled his hips, her slick heat grazing his cock, teasing, before she sank down, taking him fully. "Fuck," Zion groaned, her tight walls gripping him like a vice, pulsing with need. She rode him cowgirl-style, hips rolling, breasts bouncing with each thrust, her moans raw and echoing off the tunnel walls. Her nails raked his chest, leaving red trails, and he thrust up to meet her, hard and relentless, their bodies slamming together in a primal dance.
"More," she gasped, voice thick with lust. She leaned back, hands on his thighs, giving him a view that could kill—her curves glistening with sweat, her pussy swallowing him whole. Zion grabbed her hips, flipping her onto her knees without breaking contact. He drove into her from behind, doggy-style, his hands gripping her ass as he pounded deeper, each thrust shaking her core. Midnight's moans turned to cries, loud and desperate, her fingers clawing the ground. "Yes, fuck, harder," she begged, her voice breaking as he hit every spot that made her unravel.
He pulled her up, spinning her to face him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, impaling herself on him again. Missionary now, but nothing sweet about it—her back arched, breasts pressed against his chest, her nails digging into his shoulders as he fucked her with everything he had. Her eyes locked on his, wild and unhinged, her breath coming in gasps. "You're… fucking incredible," she panted, her walls tightening, signaling she was close.
Zion felt it building, a fire in his gut, unstoppable. "I'm gonna cum," he growled, thrusting faster, deeper, chasing the edge. Midnight's moans hit a new pitch, raw and shattering, as her orgasm tore through her, her pussy clenching him like a trap.
Before the climax, she begged, "please tell me, what's the name of this amazing man?"
"Zion," he answered with a trembling voice, almost unable to hold back any longer.
"Zion!" she screamed, her voice echoing, body shuddering as waves of pleasure wracked her. Her climax pushed him over, and he exploded inside her, hot and thick, filling her completely. Her moans spiked, a guttural, primal sound, as she felt him spill, her hips grinding to milk every drop, their bodies locked in a trembling, sweaty mess.
They collapsed, gasping, her curves pressed against him, slick with sweat and sex. Midnight's chest heaved, her violet hair a tangled halo. She traced a finger down his jaw, her smirk lazy but genuine. "I've never been fucked like that," she said, voice hoarse, eyes still hazy with afterglow. "You're something else, Zion. No question—you're getting into UA. A hero with that kind of fire? They'd be morons to say no."
Zion's grin was sharp, his mind already spinning. Hero? Sure, let her think that. He'd just railed a pro hero into oblivion and walked away with two stolen Quirks. This world was his to tear apart, and he was only warming up.
*****