Chapter 9: Hawk and Prey (+18)

Zaiko sat on a black leather couch at Mitsuki's house, completely naked, his eyes focused on the packages spread out before him. 

All for One sent sleek black envelopes and small containers, precisely what he had requested. 

The stack included fake passports, a thick bundle of cash, and small vials filled with specialized hormones – specifically, rabbit mating aids designed to drive any rabbit-like creature into heat.

Violet leaned back lazily on the sofa next to him, equally nude, her slim figure sprawled comfortably. 

She tilted her head, watching Zaiko handle the vials with idle curiosity. Her blue eyes glimmered as she took a drag from her cigarette. The faint smoke curled around her lips before she blew it toward the ceiling.

Mitsuki Bakugo walked into the room, clad in sheer black stockings that hugged her thick thighs and a bra that barely contained her massive tits.

The fabric strained against her generous curves, threatening to snap at any moment. 

Seeing her face, it was clear she had been crying. To be more precise, every night since Zaiko had treated Bakugo's future, Mitsuki would cry herself to sleep or masturbate to exhaustion; she would prefer to fuck herself with nothing but her fingers or a pillow before giving in to Zaiko's cock.

"Need anything else?" Mitsuki asked, her voice a little shaky.

"Yeah," Violet said with a smirk. "Bring us some lemonade. It's getting warm in here."

Mitsuki nodded, her cheeks burning hotter as she turned and walked toward the kitchen, her round ass jiggling slightly with every step.

Once Mitsuki was out of earshot, Violet exhaled a cloud of smoke and looked at Zaiko. "Alright, rocketboy. What's the plan?"

Zaiko's lips curled into a grin. "We'll stay here and train for a while," he said, his fingers lightly tracing the vials of hormones. "This world is full of quirks and strong fighters with good techniques I could learn. Perfect place to get stronger, teach you and myself Ki, and…" His eyes gleamed as he looked at the MILF, making them lemonade. "Start a harem."

Violet chuckled, her blue eyes darkening with amusement. "A harem, huh." She flicked the ash off her cigarette. "As long as you come back and give me the rough fuck I deserve, do whatever you want."

Mitsuki returned, holding two glasses of lemonade, the ice clinking softly. She handed one to Violet, her eyes avoiding direct contact.

Zaiko leaned back on the couch, stretching out his robust frame. "Mitsuki," he said, "Clean my cock and balls while I talk to Violet."

Mitsuki's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't hesitate. Dropping to her knees in front of him, she leaned in close. 

Her fingers wrapped around his flaccid cock, her eyes glazing over as she admired its sheer size and thickness. She took a slow breath before her tongue darted out, gently licking along the shaft, her hands cupping his balls and massaging them carefully.

Even if Mitsuki despised Zaiko, she figured a blowjob wasn't cheating, right?

As Mitsuki's tongue worked diligently, Zaiko continued his conversation with Violet. "I asked All for One for some special equipment," he said, his voice steady despite Mitsuki's warm mouth gliding over his cock and teasing his tip. 

"It should be delivered here in a few hours. Once we have it, we'll have everything we need."

Mitsuki's hands trembled slightly as she felt his cock begin to harden in her grasp. The veins along his shaft throbbed under her touch, growing longer and thicker with each passing second. Her breath hitched as the girth stretched her fingers apart.

Violet blew another puff of smoke, watching Mitsuki's obedience with a lazy smile. "Sounds like a solid plan," she murmured. Her eyes flicked up to Zaiko's face. "Just remember who gets the first round when you're done with your little hunts."

Zaiko's grin widened. "You'll always get the best, Violet."

.

.

.

Somewhere in Hiroshima, the night air was cold, and the glow of neon signs was reflecting off the wet pavement. 

Mirko, Japan's number five hero, perched atop a building overlooking a narrow alley. 

Her muscular, curvaceous body was clad in her signature skintight white leotard, her strong legs covered in thigh-high purple boots. Her fluffy white tail twitched in anticipation as her crimson eyes scanned the streets below.

"Boring night," she muttered, her voice laced with frustration. Just then, her earpiece buzzed the report from a local police station.

"Report of a purse snatcher heading into your sector. Muscular man, probably a foreigner, wearing a black biker jacket and holding a white purse. He's fast."

Mirko's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Finally, some action."

She leapt off the building, her powerful legs propelling her effortlessly through the air. 

Landing on a rooftop across the alley where she was sitting, she spotted him—a tall figure moving quickly, the white purse clutched in his hand. 

He wore a dark jacket, and a crimson mask covered the lower half of his face. His red eyes flashed as he glanced over his shoulder.

A predatory grin spread across Mirko's face. "Gotcha." She dropped into the alley, landing with a soft thud behind him. "Alright, dirtbag! Hand over the purse, or I'm handing you your ass!"

The man didn't respond. Instead, he raised the purse toward her, his movements oddly slow.

VWWWWWW.

Mirko's vision blurred. Time seemed to skip. One second, the purse was in the man's hand; the next, it was inches from her face.

The purse exploded, and a cloud of gas and fine white powder enveloped her. 

She coughed, stumbling back as the strange substance settled on her skin. Her head spun, and heat blossomed low in her belly. Her legs trembled, her muscles suddenly weak and unresponsive.

'What the hell is happening to me?!'

The man turned and bolted, his muscular frame moving with inhuman speed.

Snarling, Mirko pushed through the haze clouding her mind. "You're not getting away, bastard!" she growled, sprinting after him. 

Her heart pounded, her breath ragged as her body betrayed her—each step sent mixed signals through her body.

She chased him through the maze of alleys, her muscles burning, horniness only growing stronger with every second. Her vision narrowed, locking onto him like a hawk hunting its prey.

Finally, he skidded to a halt in a dead-end alley. Walls tall on either side, trapping him. He turned slowly, his red eyes gleaming beneath the mask.

Mirko's chest heaved, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. 

Sweat dripped down her temple as she fought to control the heat burning inside her. "End of the line, asshole," she snarled, her voice shaking.

"Caught me, huh? Maybe I wanted to be caught."

Mirko's breath hitched, her thighs pressing together again. Her body screamed at her to pounce – not to fight, but to submit to him, to drop on the ground and wiggle her ass.

'No... No! It can't be! I started my mating season already?'

The man reached up and slowly removed his mask, revealing a wicked smile, two streak tattoos on each cheek and piercing crimson eyes.

Mirko's heart slammed against her ribcage. She was the hero. He was supposed to be the prey.

A tense atmosphere drowned them both. Mirko's crimson eyes glared daggers at Zaiko; her muscles were getting ready to strike at any second.

The strange heat pulsed through her veins, but she gritted her teeth, refusing to let it cloud her judgment, not until she got home and could take her medication.

Zaiko grinned, his red eyes glinting with mischief. "Come on, rabbit. Show me what you've got."

Her instincts took over. With a fierce growl, Mirko launched herself forward, her powerful legs propelling her with blistering speed. 

In a blink, she closed the distance, her right fist swinging for Zaiko's head with bone-crushing force.

He barely managed to duck, even though he was amazed by Mirko's speed. It made sense for a woman who had fought several high-grade Nomu's to be this fast and strong.

Feeling the air ripple above him as her punch whizzed by. She followed up with a low sweep, her foot aiming to take his legs out from under him.

Zaiko leapt over it effortlessly, landing softly just as Mirko's boot scraped the pavement beneath him. Her eyes narrowed with determination. She wasn't done yet.

Her movements were relentless—sharp, disciplined, and incredibly fast. Zaiko was impressed. Each strike was far from calculated, but due to her extensive practice and experience in fights, her form was flawless, and her muscles were full of explosive power. 

She spun into a spinning back kick, her toned leg sweeping through the air. Zaiko barely avoided it, her boot missing his face by mere millimetres.

"You're quick," Zaiko said nervously as he smirked, sidestepping another punch. "But not quick enough," Zaiko said, trying to accelerate her decaying consciousness.

"Don't get cocky!" Mirko barked, her frustration bubbling over. She feinted a right hook, then twisted into a high, arcing kick aimed straight for his head.

"LUNA FALL!"

Her foot descended with devastating force, its speed creating a sonic boom. Zaiko's eyes gleamed as he saw with epitaph his head exploding.

"King Crimson!"

The world fractured around Zaiko, torn apart, leaving him in a void full of nothing but far stars. 

He watched Mirko's powerful leg pass harmlessly through his head.

Zaiko stepped calmly to the side, watching the rabbit hero's momentum carry her forward. Her heel struck nothing but air, and her crimson eyes widened in shock.

Time snapped back into place.

Mirko's kick slammed into one of the alley's concrete walls, a deafening boom shaking the alleyway. Cracks splintered through the concrete surrounding her feet. She landed in a crouch, eyes darting around in confusion. "What the—?!"

Zaiko was already on her side. "Nice try!" he screamed, his voice cocky for a man who saw his head blown to pieces.

Before she could react, he pivoted on his heel, preparing his muscles. His fist shot forward, a brutal, direct strike aimed at her chest.

"Meteor Strike!"

His knuckles crashed into her sternum. The impact reverberated through her entire body. Her eyes went wide, a strangled gasp escaping her lips as the force sent her hurtling backwards. 

She slammed into a concrete wall with a sickening crack, dust and debris exploding around her.

She slid to the ground, her limbs trembling, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Her vision blurred, stars flickering at the edges. 

Pain radiated through her chest, but it was drowned out by the blazing heat pooling in her pussy and womb.

Mirko had a type, a man stronger than her, and the man before her had bested her at everything, combat, tactic and cockiness; it was over.

Mirko's rabbit instincts screamed louder than her hero pride. Her body quivered, thighs pressing together as a desperate need consumed her. Her crimson eyes, glazed with lust, locked onto Zaiko.

A whimper slipped from her lips. "P-Please…"

Zaiko's eyes narrowed, his smirk fading as he walked over to see if Mirko was ok. He stepped toward her, his shadow falling over her trembling form. Her ears twitched, and her breath was shallow and fast.

Her voice was barely a whisper, the words dripping with raw desperation. "Please... fuck me. I... I can't fight it."

Her fingers curled into the concrete beneath her, her body squirming, her thighs rubbing together helplessly.

Zaiko knelt before her; his crimson eyes were concerned. He grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. Her cheeks flushed, and her breath hitched.

"What!?" he asked, genuinely asking since the sonic boom of her kick had left Zaiko a little deaf.

Her body trembled under his touch, her pride shattered by the insatiable need clawing at her insides. Her voice cracked, eyes shimmering with pleading desperation.

"Please... fuck me. I need you to breed me… now!"