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morallyinept · 3 months

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Heyday Hero! - A Marcus Moreno One Shot

Summary: Retired from his role as leader of the Heroics, Marcus finds that his life is missing something he never really slowed down to notice before, and soon the prospect of growing older and grey alone suddenly doesn't seem like such a super thought.

Pairing: Mature!Marcus Moreno x Mature/CurvyF!Reader (No name of reader. It’s you, bub. However Reader is of a similar age to Marcus, who I have made 52 in this story, and Reader is more on the curvier side in body type. Otherwise a blank slate.)

Word Count: 12.5k. I'm not sorry. Settle in, it's a long one.

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: Some angst/very slight mentions of body confidence/both Marcus & Reader have REAL bodies, and very real middle age spread/coming to terms with ageing & feeling obsolete.

Explicit: Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M & F receiving/fingering - Marcus has superpower hands⚡️/lots of kissing/schmaltzy romance/Marcus doesn't fuck, he makes love.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: After seeing how distinguished and incredibly handsome Pedro looked at the Emmy's recently (and remarkably like an older version of gorgeous Marcus Moreno) this idea came to me. And I had to write it down... It's long for a one shot, but I didn't want to cut too much out as I wanted to really get inside of Marcus's head. 🧠

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

In the dimly lit restaurant, Marcus fiddles anxiously with the menu as he waits for your arrival.

Sat in the swanky establishment, chosen meticulously for it’s luxurious, yet modest selection of incredibly tasty fare, the ambiance around him is a blend of soft lighting and muted colours that exude an air of quaint sophistication.

The walls are adorned with contemporary art pieces, which he can sometimes get lost inside between courses, creating an elegant backdrop to the gentle hum of conversations weaving around him like a ribbon in the background.

To his left, a couple engage in animated laughter, their cheery faces illuminated by the warm glow of soft candlelight. Across the room, a group of friends celebrate a special occasion, clinking glasses in animated jubilation.

The soft jazz music playing in the background adds a touch of romance, and the scraping of cutlery against fine china creates a comforting sense of familiarity in a place Marcus has favoured from time to time, bringing his daughter as his usual date.

The waitstaff, dressed in crisp uniforms, move gracefully between tables, ensuring that each patron experiences the epitome of culinary indulgence with a first class service.

Grateful that he chose to don his spectacles, he opens the menu and skims the appetizers and main courses, inwardly cursing his exceptional time keeping skills at arriving thirty minutes earlier than he needs to be.

He’s acutely aware of being on his own; standing out as a single amongst a sea of tables where numbers around them are even, and it crawls onto his shoulders to sit there like a heavy, unwanted companion settling in.

Despite the refined atmosphere, Marcus feels a tinge of nervousness swell in his belly. As he catches glimpses of couples sharing intimate moments and friends engaged in lively cahoots, Marcus can't help but feel like an outsider peering into a world that has become somewhat unfamiliar during his retirement.

As he sits in contemplation, considering the Filet Mignon with a Cabernet Demi-Glace alongside a glass of Malbec, or maybe the Châteauneuf-du-Pape, that would go down nicely, the restaurant serves as a swamping microcosm of the world he’s retreated into - a world filled with ordinary moments and the promise of new connections, despite the cocoon of abject terror woven tightly around them.

He wonders briefly for a moment what you will choose to eat as he skims down the list. Then he wonders if you'll actually have the courage to show; his own hesitations and fears trying to toy with him with their insidious little voices hissing in his ear.

His once steady hands now convey a subtle tremor, a physical manifestation of the nerves that have gripped him tightly ever since the idea of this date had taken root and grown limbs of its own.

A journey that still confused him, unable to believe it all started with a simple swipe over his face and a digital message shared between you...

His daughter, Missy, had perched on the armrest of the couch only a mere fortnight ago, a mischievous glint in her deep chocolate eyes that matched his own set of peepers.

"Alright, Dad, let's make you the perfect dating profile. You've got to be enticing, mysterious, yet approachable," Missy had declared with a buoyant smirk.

Marcus nodded, still getting accustomed to the concept of online dating and his acceptance to it after months of Missy berating him about putting himself out there more.

He finally caved when he realised she was right. She usually was about these things, although hardly an example to live by. Several failed relationships later, including an engagement that never led to Marcus actually walking her down the aisle proudly on his arm, and she'd thrown in the towel and embraced single life.

She'd grown in age for a thirty-something rambunctious young woman, but evidently not in maturity.

"Right, right. Enticing and approachable. Got it.” Marcus nodded. “How do I do that?"

“You’re a lost cause, jeez,” she snorted, as her fingers danced across the keyboard on the phone screen. “Luckily, you have me to help you out.”

“What are you writing in there?” Marcus asked curiously, trying to take a peek.

"I’m making you sound like a catch. Because you are.”

“I don’t know about that.” He mumbled bashfully. “I’m old.”

“Being in your fifties is not old. Trust me. You’re what, 56?”

“52.” Marcus frowned.

“Exactly. Young. Now, for the headline. How about 'retired hero seeking sidekick for life's next adventure'?"

Marcus nodded. “Mm, I sound like a sales pamphlet.” He chuckled.

With a teasing grin, Missy continued typing. "Let's highlight your strengths. 'A man of action, but also enjoys long walks on the beach and candlelit dinners.'"

Marcus scratched under his greying beard. "Look at that, I've been upgraded from sales pamphlet to walking cliché."

Missy laughed, "fine, we'll skip the beach walks, then. How about we mention your cooking skills? 'Can whip up a mean lasagna, tower of pancakes and save the day - a triple threat.'"

Marcus nodded in approval. "That's not bad. Cooking is a superpower in its own right. And one that I excel at, if I do say so myself."

"You always say so."

"Quit complaining. You eat here for free." He quipped.

As they navigated through the intricacies of the dating profile, Marcus's naivety about online dating emerged. "Do people really swipe left or right on this thing?”

“Yep. You swipe right if you like the look of them, or left if you don’t.”

“How fickle.” He wrinkled his nose at such a thought.

“Eh, it's what all the cool kids do these days.” Missy shrugged.

“Maybe that’s too cool for me. What about one where I can meet someone like me?”

“Dating specifically for retired Heroics?”

“No. Dating for… something other than a one night stand.” He cleared his throat.

“You mean you don’t want to slut around?” Missy teased. "These are your hoe years, Dad!"

“Hey! Potty mouth.” He frowned again. “And no. I-I want to meet someone who’s serious.”

Missy rolled her eyes. “Dad, this isn’t Tinder I'm setting you up on, don’t worry.” She reassured. “This is a serious dating site for old, uh, mature people who want to find something real. It just has a similar algorithm to Tinder in matching you up.”

“Well, good.” He nodded. “What’s Tinder?”

“Slut central.” Missy smirked.

“Oh.” Marcus chuckled again. “And what's with all the emojis? Ooh, is there a superhero emoji?"

Missy tittered, guiding him through the nuances. "Yes, there's a superhero emoji, we can add that, or a heart to jazz it up a bit."

“I like the purple heart. Can you put that one?”

“Purple? Why not the green one?”

“I don’t like green, purple is my favourite colour. Why would I use the green one?” Marcus questioned, wrinkling his nose.

"I don't know, green is cool. Different."

"I'm not cool. Just put the purple one."

“Purple it is.” Missy said, smiling down at him and how curiously receptive he was to it all. She had assumed he would have put up a bit of a fight and insisted he was perfectly fine on his own. But they both knew that wasn’t entirely true.

As she finalised the profile, Missy held up the phone to snap a picture of him.

“Oh no, let me just-”

“Dad, you look fine.” She groaned as he ran his hand over his head tidying his already neat hair.

“Well, let me take my glasses off.”

“No way. They’re a part of you. Now, say cheese, you uncool old man.” She snapped a few pics as he smiled awkwardly, and chose the best one to upload.

"And there we have it - the profile of a retired superhero ready to conquer the world of online dating. You're a niche in the market."

Marcus simply scoffed.

"Now, brace yourself for the flood of admirers, Dad. Your inbox is gonna be lit."

Marcus looked at the screen, a mix of nervousness and amusement on his face.

"Flood of admirers, huh? I never thought finding a date would be this... complicated."

As Missy finalised and submitted the online dating profile, a moment of hesitation gripped him. He looked at the screen, the upbeat words that described him echoed in his mind, and a pang of guilt tugged at his ventricles making him sigh heavily.

The prospect of moving forward felt like a betrayal, a step into an unknown territory where memories of his late wife still lingered, clinging on. He fiddled with the platinum band around his finger absentmindedly.

But Missy sensed her father's inner turmoil, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding as if she could read every silent thought that churned through him.

She gently placed a hand on his broad shoulder.

"Dad, it's okay. Mom will always be a part of us, no matter what. This doesn't mean you're leaving her behind."

Marcus nodded, his gratitude evident in his misty eyes. "I know. It's just... it feels strange, you know? To be potentially opening up to someone new. I feel so out of the loop."

“But that’s the fun in dating.” Missy squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and he placed his hand on top of hers. "You meet all kinds of weirdos before you find one that's the right kind of weird."

"You're a weirdo." He smirked.

"Takes one to know one," she mused. "Besides, mom would want you to be happy. And I want that too. You deserve it. There’s someone out there that's just as uncool as you are, I guarantee it."

"Thanks," he chuckled.

"I mean it. Whoever they are, they're going to fall madly in love with you. You really are a hero, Dad."

Marcus smiled up at her with rosy cheeks and a warming smile. “Love you, kiddo.”

“I’m not eleven anymore. I’m a grown woman.” She rolled her eyes at the pet name that had stuck, although secretly she loved it.

“You’ll always be my kiddo regardless of how old you get. That'a just the deal.” He confirmed with a singular nod.

With a soft smile, Marcus returned his focus to the dating profile. The words on the screen transforming slowly from potential betrayal to a blooming eagerness through some determined resilience and the capacity to allow himself to embrace a new beginning in his long absent love life with some appeasement.

Weeks had passed since Marcus and Missy created the dating profile.

Admittedly Marcus hadn’t spent a lot of time on the app, finding it tricky to navigate and the constant swiping made his thumbs ache after scrolling through reams of attractive faces that it began to overwhelm.

But he dipped in now and again to check any matches, and didn’t really expect much.

Marcus was the kind of man who harboured that dreamy infatuation of falling in love naturally in an environment reminiscent of his favourite rom coms.

Like bumping into his soulmate in a coffee shop over a foamy latte, or locking eyes through the stacks in an old dusty bookstore, or between the exotic blooms of the local botanical gardens where he liked to sit and have lunch sometimes.

But of course, life isn’t a rom com, and Marcus was convinced his had always been a gritty action adventure with no time for the romantic story line to be weaved into the dangerous plot.

One evening, as Marcus checked his phone, he discovered a notification from the dating app. His heart skipped a beat as he opened the message, revealing a match with you.

A mixture of excitement and nervousness washed over him. He read through your profile, discovering shared interests and a warmth that resonated through your words about seeking a life partner with whom you could share your zest for life with.

Your photo captivated him, namely your smile, and Marcus found he spent several minutes just trying to envision what you were like in person with those gorgeous eyes of yours staring back at him.

The room seemed to brighten as he absorbed the realisation that someone out there was potentially interested in getting to know him beyond the superhero persona.

"Hey, I got a match!" He called out to Missy, who was folding laundry in the next room.

Despite how domesticated her father was, he still loathed ironing and wasn’t really that skilled at it, so it was left for Missy when she visited, which was an almost daily occurrence. Moving out some years ago into her own place across town, she still spent more of her time at her childhood home hanging with her father when she wasn’t saving the world.

Loneliness, it seemed, was hereditary.

She rushed in, her eyes lighting up with excitement. "Really? Let me see!"

As they huddled around the phone, Marcus navigated through your profile.

“Oh, she’s gorgeous, Dad.”

“Right? Far too gorgeous for me.” His voice dipped.

Missy frowned up at him. “Don’t say that, she likes you, look. And look, she loves flowers, you love your garden! Ooh, and she’s a foodie! Perfect match!"

"You think so?" He asked.

"You're officially in the dating game, Dad!" She grinned excitedly.

Marcus couldn't help but smile, a blend of gratitude and anticipation in his eyes.

“Send her a message back.”

“What do I say?”

Missy rolled her eyes. “Just talk to her, dummy.”

He nodded. "I never thought I'd be doing this at my age. But here goes nothing."

Missy playfully nudged him. “You say it like you’re on your last legs.”

“I’m so nervous. Do you think she could really find me interesting?”

Missy's face softened. "Absolutely. You’ve got so much to offer. Remember, just be yourself. And if all else fails, maybe tell her about the pancake towers… That seemed to work for you before."

The father-daughter duo laughed and then she left him to it. As Marcus prepared to message you, he felt a sense of hope blooming within him, seeding with delicate tendrils of what-if scenarios through the soil of his being.

The dating app, once an intimidating frontier, now represented a chance for connection in the palm of his hand, and the possibility of a second chapter in his life.

In the soft glow of the phone screen, Marcus typed his first message to you; a simple yet sincere greeting, with thoughtful follow up questions to get to know you.

As he pressed send, the room seemed to hold its breath with him; floundering in the uncharted territory and all the terrifying pitfalls of online dating opening up in seemingly unconquerable chasms before him.

He could feel his fingers buzz and crackle in giddy excitement, and he shook the pulsing from them as he waited anxiously.

Marcus smiled as wide as his mouth would stretch when moments later your reply came, followed with a purple heart emoji of your own at the end.

The pair of you spent the reminder of that night messaging back and forth until the early hours of the morning, both of you seeming reluctant to halt the texting for the inconvinience of sleep.

You questioned him about his previous career as leader of the Heroics, something that he made no effort in hiding from you, but he was more surprised when you brushed over it and asked him more personal questions about him and his life now.

It warmed him to know that you were keen on getting to know the man underneath the padded out suit and katanas.

As Marcus delved into the conversations that flowed eagerly across the screen, he eagerly shared those glimpses of his life beyond the Heroics. In his messages to you, he found himself excitedly revealing the most cherished aspects of his retired life - his culinary prowess and his love for gardening namely.

Through his words, never abbreviated to modern day text slang, he painted vivid pictures of his kitchen as a canvas where he crafted tasty and experimental delights, contributing to his now less-than-trim waistline.

The tales of him donning an apron and concocting flavours with pots and pans were woven into the giddy narrative - like creating his legendary lasagna and towering pancake stacks - and held a touch of pride and a hint of self-deprecating humour.

Perhaps you'll be the lucky one to experience my famous lasagna one day. I warn you though, it comes with a side of terrible superhero puns and far too much garlic bread.💜

Your response made his cheeks ache from grinning so much:

Well, lucky for you I love far too much garlic bread. And terrible puns.💜

He spoke of mornings spent tending to the plants in his back yard, nurturing them as if they were his wards. The garden, once a therapeutic escape from the demands of heroism, now became a space where he cultivated not just flowers and vegetables, but a sense of ongoing tranquillity.

As he shared these aspects of his life, Marcus was ecstatic that you saw beyond the retired hero and glimpsed the man who found joy in the beautiful ordinary.

You both spoke morning, noon and night until only a few days into your chatting, Marcus offered you his phone number and he called you, engaging in a video call conversation that lasted late into the night and curated a dinner date arranged for just a few evenings later.

And now, sitting in the restaurant waiting patiently for you, his phone buzzes in his pocket at the table and Missy’s name flashes up.

Stay away from anything garlicky 2nite, no matter how much u want it. Good luck! Love u x

He smiles at his daughter’s sage advice after responding with a thumbs up emoji, and he puts his phone back in his pocket and glances out the window.

Outside the restaurant, the early night casts its enchantment over the cityscape of downtown Austin, turning the bustling streets into a reflective mosaic of city lights. The glow of the street lamps create warm halos diffused by the previous cascading rain, warm in the Texas summer.

The restaurant, with its polished veneer and the subtle drama of its patrons all around seem to suddenly cave in on Marcus, and the nerves begin to convince him that you might feel out of place here.

He’s starting to, as he glances down at himself; his once-strong hands now showing signs of a subtle tremble and wear. He smooths down his soft cashmere sweater nervously.

Agonising on what to wear, Missy came to the rescue after his attempts at some mismatched disaster left her looking at him as though he'd completely lost his mind.

And perhaps he had for even entertaining the idea that someone could find him desirable and attractive now at the gates of a later stage in life.

After a brief fashion show of potential date outfits, they settled on a classic and sophisticated choice of a black cashmere sweater, paired with a white pressed shirt and a sleek black tie underneath, teamed with black pants and smart dress shoes that seemed to strike the right balance between the refined and approachable.

Much smarter than his grey denim that was scuffed at the knees.

"Very James Bond, Dad," Missy had remarked, a playful grin on her face.

"James Bond is incredibly smooth with the ladies. I'm more like Jack Lemon." Marcus snorted. "Got that nervous, twitchy energy down to a T... How do I look?"

With a final nod of approval, they exchanged their trademark father-daughter grin; a silent acknowledgment of the bond that went beyond snappy wardrobe choices.

Missy, ever the supportive sidekick, had not only helped pick an outfit, but infused the process with laughter and adoration, quelling his aforementioned nervous, twitchy energy. The ensemble was nothing too fussy, but equally comfortable and smart.

But now he wonders if the sweater accentuates the stomach he’s allowed to grow out of him through not working out on the daily anymore, and he inadvertently sucks it in.

As Marcus browses the menu, his mind wanders aimlessly to the days when the government relied on him and his team to protect the city. Now that gratitude seems to have faded, replaced by a forgotten indifference.

The retirement party was a mere formality, a token of appreciation for a job well done over the years, and soon he was swallowed up in the anonymity of regular civilian life.

But in the quiet solitude of his home, Marcus often found himself grappling with the stark void that retirement had suddenly left behind. The absence of the daily camaraderie of a team, and a mission, left him with a sense of purposelessness that was hard to ignore.

Days stretched before him like an uncertain horizon and weighed heavily on his shoulders. The routines that once defined his life had dissolved, leaving behind a disorienting stillness and quietness that seemed perpetually louder as the days wore on where he was left floundering. And immensely bored.

His daughter watched with concern as her father navigated this unfamiliar terrain cautiously - and somewhat alone.

The strong, confident superhero who had once faced down villains and alien entities alike, and saved the day countless times without so much as a thanks from the general public most of the time, but bore the scars and wounds that weren't just physical, now faced the formidable challenge of figuring out what came next.

In the midst of his internal battles, loneliness became an unexpected companion that walked beside Marcus; its presence more pronounced as the passage of solitude had unfolded.

In the darkest corners of his mind, Marcus grappled with the harsh reality of ageing. The once-vibrant hero who was in super shape, whose every step echoed with the assurance of a Titan-esque strength, now found himself facing the inevitability of a body that carried the pudgy weight of his advancing years and one too many lasagnes.

The grey in his beard and the subtle signs of time etched around his tired eyes, served as visual markers of a journey that had traversed the highest peaks of heroism and now meandered through the sludgey valleys of introspection.

A sense of nostalgia lingered for the days when his strength seemed boundless, and the world bowed in acknowledgment of his achievements and saviour duty.

Yet, beneath the surface, there was also a quiet, yet slow acceptance; a recognition that each new wrinkle and grey strand bore witness to a life well-lived. Overall, he was happy, accomplished; he had what he needed to be content.

But there was still a hole where a hole ought not to be. And it was starting to gape.

The memories of his late wife visited him in unguarded moments. Especially at night when the world was still and peaceful, yet his yearning was abominably loud.

Marcus missed the warmth of her presence, her body wrapped around his, the shared laughter, and the quiet intimacy that had defined their mere few years together.

He would fall asleep glancing at the tarnished gleam of his wedding band that he still wore around his finger, up until his impending date.

A metallic fragment still clinging on with her memory despite its haze, and popping it safely away inside the drawer came with a sense of unyielding sadness as it did with something excitedly eager to pursue a new chapter.

The transition from active duty to retirement weighed heavily on Marcus. The once effable hero, accustomed to the exhilaration of fighting crime and saving lives, found himself facing the stark reality of now being cast aside, overshadowed by the emergence of a new, younger fleet of heroes; his own daughter taking up the position that he once held proudly as leader of the Heroics.

Retirement, in its initial stages, felt like a forced departure from a life that had defined him. The government's decision to make way for the next generation of heroes left Marcus grappling with a sense of displacement.

The outfit, which had been a symbol of strength and purpose, now hung in the closet faded and moth-eaten; a silent reminder of a bygone era, no longer fitting him where he’d allowed himself to fill out a little.

The katanas were sheathed and stored away at the back of the furthest shelf out of reach, and out of sight, and no longer needed to be called into his grip by his own will.

And despite him still feeling that magnetised, crackly buzz in his fingers, it became less noticeable as time wore on.

His team, once a tight knit band of clashing personalities in lurid coloured suits alike, were now strangers in his phone book whom he barely heard from.

There was an inherent loneliness attached to retirement, a solitude that stemmed not just from the absence of battles, but from the realisation that the world had moved on and left him forever encased inside his heyday.

Marcus recognized that the cycle of heroism demanded the emergence of new champions; each generation contributing to the ebb and flow of the greater narrative. He knew and understood he would never be able to keep going forever, nor did he want to.

The challenge, however, lay in reconciling his sense of self-worth with a society that often failed to appreciate the depth of experience that came with age.

It was as if he had become invisible overnight.

Marcus yearned for a companion, a lover who could fill the void left by the passing of his wife. The longing for romance, for someone to share the mundane and extraordinary moments alike, for the feel of someone's bare skin writhing and cupping against his own filled his waking thoughts.

The world, once a carnival of action, now seemed incomplete without the shared tenderness of someone to enjoy it with. The quiet dinners, the walks hand-in-hand, and the simple pleasure of having a partner to confide in rooted a growing hunger within him.

The desire for companionship wasn’t just a fleeting wish; it was a profound ache that echoed through the vacant chambers of his heart, a reminder that heroism, while noble, did not shield him from the vulnerabilities of basic human need.

For your date with Marcus tonight, you'd carefully selected a dress that effortlessly blended elegance with a touch of modern flair.

The dress was a knee-length, A-line silhouette in a shade of deep midnight blue, shimmering with some well placed sequins.

The rich hue complimented your complexion, enhancing the natural tones of your skin, along with a subtle dusting of make-up to accentuate your best features.

The fabric, a luxurious blend of silk and satin, cascaded down in gentle folds, creating a silhouette that was both graceful and sophisticated and hid a multitude of sins that you felt knocking your confidence about a little.

The moment you step into the restaurant your eyes are eagerly searching for him, and you spot him at a table by the window, his eyes equally searching for you.

And it's as if time itself has stopped, and there is only him and you.

Your dress is incredible, hugging your curves and emphasising them in all the right places. He can’t help but let his eyes roam over the fullness of your behind as you turn to give your coat to the host when you walk in.

Marcus can feel his mouth salivate; a small hint of your swelling cleavage is exposed as you walk towards him, rendering his pants feeling a little tighter.

But what captivates him the most is your smile; it lights up your whole face when you dazzle him with the beam of it.

“Holy ssh…” He trails off to himself as he loses his breath.

Of course, he already thinks you're attractive; he's seen you already through your picture and your video calls that have been on his mind constantly. He’d be bashful to admit that he’s looked at your dating profile picture probably far more than he should.

(He’ll never reveal to you that he’s also used it as inspiration to chase his own pleasure as he wrapped his hand around his thick cock to impure thoughts of you whilst he looked at your smiling face. Well, he won’t tell you that just yet, anyway.)

But seeing you finally in the flesh is something else entirely.

As you approach the table, the air pulses with a blend of eager excitement, and that familiar nervous, twitchy energy.

Marcus rises to his jellied feet, a courteous smile on his tanned, weathered face; his mind racing with the age-old question of whether to extend a hand for a shake, lean in for a kiss on the cheek, or open his arms for a hug. He fears he might not let you go at the latter.

All options make him giddy; the thought of finally touching you, even for a polite greeting, makes his legs buckle.

Your eyes meet, and a moment of charming awkwardness ensues. Unsure of the social cues, Marcus hesitates for a split second, caught between the realms of old-school gentlemanly grandeur and the nuances of modern dating etiquette.

In a playful attempt to navigate the greeting, he extends a hand for a shake just as you move in for a friendly hug. The result is a momentary dance of uncertainty - a handshake that morphs into an unexpected half-hug, odd dance. Laughter bubbles up between you both, diffusing the tension of your awkward limbs, as you share an amused, bashful glance.

"Well, that was smooth," Marcus quips, a twinkle in his eye.

"Some of my best moves," you agree, chuckling in agreement.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” Marcus compliments. He pulls your chair out for you and you smile as you sit whilst he tucks you in, then takes his own seat opposite you.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, feeling warm all over. “Very handsome.”

“Thanks,” he says, smoothing his hands down over his broad chest. “I had some help.” He admits, his eyes crinkling in the corners behind his specs as he chuckles. “My daughter saved the day.”

“Well, she has great taste. You look amazing. You smell really good too.” You say as your nose still twitches with the heady oaky notes.

"Thanks." He smiles and finds he can't stop.

He drifts off for a moment, lost in your eyes as they observe him fondly. It takes a moment for his composure to return and his brain to remember words coherently.

“Oh, I almost forgot, these are for you,” Marcus says, pointing to the vase of extravagant flowers resting beside the table on the windowsill.

The florals are incredible, a cluster of bulbous-headed peonies and fluffy garden roses, topped with curled calla lilies; their trumpet-shaped blooms standing out amongst their companions, adding a contemporary flair to the bouquet.

A soft hue of pinks and corals greet you, and the scent wafting from them makes your head swim with their delightfully wafting fragrance.

“These are stunning, Marcus. Wow, they must have cost a fortune... you shouldn't have.” But you're glad he did as you reach forward to smell them and run your fingers over their velvety petals in awe.

“Actually, they’re from my garden.”

“You grow these?” You baulk.

“Yeah. I know you said you love the lilies; they’re some of my favourites too.”

“That’s so thoughtful... I really do love them. Thank you.” You’re stunned at the fact this incredibly adept man knows how to cultivate something so beautiful into existence from a tiny seed. “Flowers just make me so happy, you know?”

“I get that. They make me happy too.” He agrees. “Would you like some wine, are you a wine drinker?” Marcus enquires.

Despite your long conversations laughing like teenagers breaking parental curfew well into the night, there are still things you're both yet to uncover about each other.

You nod. “I'd love some.”

The waiter takes your orders and you choose the pan-seared sea bass, drawn to the delicate and flaky texture of the fish, served on a bed of lemon risotto with roasted cherry tomatoes and asparagus.

Something light that won’t aggravate your stomach with your own nerves so much throughout the evening.

But his soft, inviting smile revealing a dimple as he gazes at you whilst you talk, puts you at ease. He really is incredibly handsome in the flesh, to the point it leaves you unable to speak for a few moments in between the engrossing conversations.

But the silences are never awkward between you both.

The dark-rimmed spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose adds a touch of intellectual charm to his appearance, framing deep cocoa eyes that hold the wisdom of years spent in both heroism and now the quieter, reflective moments of life.

His greying beard and moustache add a rugged yet refined quality to the sun-kissed countenance of his complexion. The salt-and-pepper tones speak of a life rich with experience, the threads of grey weaving through the tapestry of a man who has weathered both storms and serenity.

He made no attempt of keeping his heroic qualities a secret from you - his face was known for saving the world time and time over - and despite it, it wasn’t something that put you off when you learned he was a former Heroic, and that people would sometimes recognise him like a celebrity when he were out doing mundane things like grocery shopping.

If anything, it flattered you that someone of his calibre would find you attractive in any kind of way. Compared to Marcus, your life in contrast was humdrum at best with a simple, yet modest job and a simple, yet modest home.

He could have a limber woman with a body sculpted to perfection in tight spandex, but instead it impressed you at how humble, and seemingly reserved and shy he was.

And how keenly interested he was in you and everything you had to say.

“Oh, this is delicious.” You sigh after the waiter brings your food a while later.

Conversation has flowed easily between you both and he makes you laugh a lot; something that he selfishly enjoys when he sees you throw you head back and titter, making you look more beautiful than ever, and filling his head with wayward thoughts of kissing down your neck.

That tight feeling in his pants hasn’t gone away yet and he revels in the throbbing ache hanging heavy despite the discomfort, because it’s been so long since someone made his body react like this.

“You wanna try some of mine too? The meat's really good.” Marcus offers, and holds his fork out to you when you nod.

You notice he bites his bottom, plush lip as he watches you take it in your mouth.

“Mmm, that is good. So tender. This was such a good choice of restaurant.” You say.

“Thank you. I love food and kinda pride myself in finding the best places to eat.” He says with a slight flush creeping over his nose. “That probably comes off as rather arrogant-”

“Not at all. I love it that you love food so much. I do too, it’s probably why I’m more on the heavy side these days.” You chuckle as you reach for your wine glass.

Marcus shakes his head. “I think you look amazing.” He smiles and you notice the rosy blush settle in his cheeks again.

“I never knew this place was here. It’s funny, you can spend your whole life in one place and not realise what’s right under your nose, right?” You say, and Marcus can’t help but agree in more ways than one.

The meal is delicious, the wine flows between you both. Finishing the bottle, he offers you dessert with a tempting smile and arched brow, that ignites something over your skin and leaves you tingly and squeezing your thighs together.

Your mutual sweet teeth lead you both to agree on the tiramisu to share between you. Layers of coffee-soaked ladyfingers and mascarpone cream, dusted with cocoa powder, promises a delightful conclusion to the meal, to which you both indulge in as you speak more.

As you discuss your favourite movies and share anecdotes, the conversation takes on a flirtatious undertone as he leaves the last creamy bite on the plate just for you.

Wholly engaged in your words, Marcus leans in slightly over the table on his crossed arms; a hint of intimacy in his gesture, and a reassuring sincerity in his eyes that convince you that he’s enjoyed this evening and your company so much.

And when you look back at him, leaning in a little closer on your elbows across the table too, watching and shuddering as his fingertips soon brush against yours, you confirm the same to him in your own eyes that glitter and beguile him to his knees in subjugation of you.

"You know, they say the best movies are the ones that leave you wanting more... I can't help but feel the same about our date. I've had a really wonderful time with you tonight," he concludes, his dark-rimmed spectacles adding a touch of earnestness to his gaze.

He watches you smile and the world outside implodes.

"I was thinking... w-would you be interested in doing this again? Maybe something a bit less formal - like maybe a walk through the city or maybe a picnic or something?"

You chuckle, your eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. “I’d absolutely love that, Marcus.”

“Yeah?” He beams, all teeth and pink grinning lips.

“I’d love to spend more time with you, definitely. I’ve really enjoyed tonight too. Almost don’t want it to end.” You say as your fingers glide over his knuckles.

“Well, it doesn’t have to… I-I mean, the night is still young, perhaps we could go for that walk? Or get another drink elsewhere? I know a good cocktail lounge in town, if you're feeling fruity?” Marcus suggests.

He’s careful not to sully the line between polite etiquette and implied impropriety. But you both chuckle at his choice of words.

“Sounds good.” You agree, all twinkly at him, and he can feel his heart soar.

He fetches your coat and holds it open for you as you slip it on. He carries the vase of flowers out towards the parking lot, suggesting he puts them in the car so he can hold your hand freely as you walk together somewhere, anywhere.

But you both don’t make it on that walk, or to the cocktail lounge, as instead you turn to him and go to kiss him, taking him by surprise that he almost drops the vase of flowers as your lips barely graze his cheek.

“I’m sorry, I just had to,” you say, a little flustered and giggly.

“Wait,” he says, and you watch him plonk the vase on the ground safely, and his arms pull you towards him. “Okay, let’s try that again.”

Smiling, Marcus leans in as you tiptoe up and your lips finally meet; soft, inviting and delicate.

A smooch that lasts and morphs slowly into something more passionate, more desired. And confirms everything you hoped and imagined about him from the moment you laid eyes on him this evening: Marcus Moreno knows how to damn well kiss.

You trace the line of his bottom lip with yours, nipping it gently and it elicits a moan from deep within him that warms your bone marrow.

His hands traverse the length of your back pulling you in closer to him as he gently slips his tongue into your wanting mouth.

Your fingers trace the soft silk of his beard; his moustache gently tickling your top lip deliciously. It’s a tender, unhurried exploration, one that sparks fireworks inside your veins.

His thick fingers, calloused by the harsh realities of his journey, find their way into your hand, stroking gently, and you can feel something crackle between them.

You eventually part and draw in much needed breaths from where he’s inhaled all of you deep into his chest cavity.

“Wow, t-that was-” He begins with a bewildered stutter.

“It was,” you agree, smiling into his face as he nuzzles his nose against yours.

“You taste so good,” he groans, placing his hands on your waist gently, respectfully, as you stroke up his thick arms.

You're so close, pressed into him and you can feel the swell of him against you making you smirk.

“It’s the tiramisu,” you chuckle.

“No, it's all you.” He whispers softly shaking his head. “Would you… would you like to come back to mine for some coffee?”

“Coffee you say?” You smile with raised eyebrows. “You know that's code, right?” You tease.

He laughs. “I’m not being presumptuous, I just… I kinda don’t want the night to end. And I’d really like to kiss you some more.”

“I know what you mean. And I’d love some. Both coffee and kissing.”

Marcus opens the passenger side door for you as you seat yourself in, and he smiles warmly with glittery peepers that render you speechless.

Leaning in, he kisses you again, bent in through the door and unable to abnegate himself away from you.

With the flowers secured in your lap, he sets off and you admire the clean interior of his Camry and watch him drive as he turns to smile at you through the shadows.

He takes your hand in his and brings it to his mouth to kiss over it gently as he drives.

Pulling into the driveway at Marcus’s home a short ride later, you unclick your seatbelt as he turns off the engine.

“I can drive you home at any point. Just say the word and we’ll go. I’m not expecting anything more from-”

“Marcus. Take me inside and make me some coffee.” You reassure him by squeezing his thigh gently.

Marcus’s home is large and spacious, but homely in all the right ways with subtle Hispanic influences woven through the decor, and incredibly neat and tidy than what you would expect from a bachelor living alone.

“Is this your garden?” You query as you glance out the french doors keenly whilst he makes coffee in the kitchen.

The vase of flowers is perched on the counter top, and your eyes recognise the blooms swaying in clusters the gentle breeze around the garden where he cut them from, despite the darkness of the evening.

“Yeah,” he says proudly, as he brings over the mugs.

“It looks beautiful. Can we sit out there?”

“Sure.” He opens the door for you and you step out onto the patio.

Lit by the soft glow of ambient solar lights, the garden unfolds like a hidden oasis. The centrepiece is a small, pristine pool, its turquoise waters reflecting the moonlight as if inviting a tempting midnight swim.

Your body clenches deliciously at the thought of seeing him undress to join you naked in the water - two water nymphs wet and writhing against each other.

Surrounding the pool, an array of vibrant flowers and lush greenery embraces the space. Potted plants adorn the periphery in terracotta homes, showcasing an array of herbs that hint at the culinary adventures Marcus enjoys embarking on in his kitchen.

The scent of lavender and rosemary lingers in the air, adding a fragrant dimension to the balmy Texan night that awaits you both.

As you settle by the pool at the small metal table and chairs under a large, sun-faded parasol, coffee cups in hand, Marcus shares more stories of his connection to the garden - his mother shaping his green fingered talent.

Inspiring him with a sanctuary of her own that blended the influence of his Latino heritage within the serenity of nature growing up as a boy. He also lets slip a little more about his life as a Heroic, and the fact his mother was his mentor and trainer.

“Was?” You query gently.

He nods with a dipped smile. “She passed just before I fully retired. Unexpected, but peaceful at least.” He summises quietly.

“I’m so sorry. She sounds like an incredibly formidable woman.”

“She was. She would’ve liked you.” He says with a pricking smile.

You smile under your eyelashes as you drink more of your velvety coffee.

The night unfolds under the bokeh stars, the inky expanse above causing you both to question and ponder jointly on some of life’s bigger questions and philosophies. Sharing a profound connection that transcends cultures and backgrounds to agree on more common threads that weave around you both, tethering you together further still.

Marcus, his dark-rimmed spectacles reflecting the glow of the night in the lenses, looks at you with a warmth that's far from the ordinary, what feels like hours later.

"You know, it's getting late. I could drive you home if you'd like?" He queries tentatively.

“Trying to get rid of me already, hmm?” You tease.

“God no.” He shakes his head vehemently. “Far from it.”

“I mean, I don’t wanna impose or anything.” You’re quick to add, realising that you’re probably keeping him up.

“No, no imposition at all.” Marcus assures. He reaches for your hand, slotting his fingers in yours.

“Good, because I believe I was promised more kisses, Mr Moreno.” You smile.

At that, he instantly pulls you closer to him by your seat; it scrapes across the patio and he engulfs your face in his giant hands.

“I never do this.” He says, panting after breaking the intense kiss. A kiss that he can feel igniting his whole body.

“You never kiss on a first date?” You gasp as you feel a flurry in your core.

“I mean, you’re my first date since… my wife.” He clarifies.

“I’d love for you to tell me about her some time.”

He nods. “I’d like that.”

"And it's okay. I don't usually do this either." You reassure. "But I really like it..."

"Me too," he smiles leaning in to kiss you some more.

As you sit by the pool, occasionally pressing your lips to one another for periods of time that wash away in a dreamy, pastel haze, the unspoken desire to extend the evening lingers in the air.

Marcus hesitates, a wibble of vulnerability in his voice as he clears his throat.

"Would you... consider staying? I’m really enjoying your company. I-I have a guest room, and you're more than welcome to use it." He tries not to physically wince as he lays it out bare. “I mean, I’m just enjoying your-”

“Would you like me to stay?” You question with your smile widening.

Marcus nods. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to. We don’t have to do anything, nothing’s expected. Just kissing you like this is really nice.”

“Yeah, it really does. You’re a really good kisser, Marcus.” You suck his bottom lip gently and he moans.

“Well, I really like to kiss. Feels good to have someone to kiss again.”

“I don’t want to stop kissing you all night.” You agree as he brushes his lips against yours, his moustache tickling.

“Stay? Let me hold you?” Marcus questions, although it sounds like he’s pleading with you through those strangled gasps as he tastes your tongue again.

You nod, wanting nothing more than to be wrapped up in his strong arms all night and to wake up in them. "Okay."

It feels right, natural between you. Two strangers who feel like they know one another inside out already - it’s easy with him.

And your attraction to him knows no bounds as you’re greedy for his presence and touch alike, and allow him to take your hand and lead you back inside.

Marcus listens.

Listens to every small gasp that ebbs out of you as his fingers stroke over your skin, tracing over the areas that make you shudder and hitch your breath in anticipation.

He learns that you hiss a little when he kisses your neck, when he sucks your earlobe into his mouth and nibbles gently on it with his teeth.

He learns that you’re ticklish on your hips and you giggle into his mouth uncontrollably, snorting ungraciously a little, when he does it again, making him laugh in turn.

He respectfully traverses the route of your body, mapping it out with his fingers stroking the length of your arms, his lips pressed at the juncture of your throat.

He listens to recall and remember and to please you. God, he just wants to please you and leave you satisfied.

But he also wants to leave you wanting, craving more of him. Begging even… He takes his time kissing you, tasting you and touching you. Letting you unfurl in his hands like a tiny bud, blooming into something spectacular and colourful as he waters you.

The both of you are soon in his bedroom, unable to resist being parted from one another.

His fingers feel like tingly electricity zapping through your skin layers, and he explains that he can’t seem to control it around you as your lips peck at him under his jaw rendering him a quivering mess in your own hands.

It's a curious sensation, a subtle vibration with a pinch of static as the pads of his fingers graze your cheeks gently; it makes your blood fizz through your veins as you feel it pulse into your epidermis and pores.

“What other powers do you have?” You query, lost in the richness of his eyes, as he winds strands of your hair around his digits.

“Just this." He runs his pads over your lips and you feel that soft, gently muted vibration sink into the meat of them that makes you groan as it tingles into the depth of your jaw. "I’m pretty good with a katana too.”

"Are you boasting, Marcus?" You tease.

"I'll be happy to show you my sword wielding skills anytime."

You both laugh as he realises what he just insinuated.

“So you can’t fly?” You query, stroking under his chin. Your fingers trace a small, uniquely heart-shaped patch where no hair seems to grow on the left side. You watch as he closes his eyes and pushes his jaw into your hand further.

“No, I can. But with the help of a flight device.”

“A flight device?”

“Maybe I’ll show you. Take you up. In the sky.” Marcus muses.

“You’re going to take me to new heights, hmm?” You smirk.

“Well, I’ll certainly try,” he says, rubbing his nose against yours.

He grazes gentle, languid kisses down your neck, settling on the curve where your shoulder hilts.

He runs his aquiline nose there delicately, inhaling the faint remnants of your perfume with vanilla and coconut notes that makes him salivate.

"I'm scared of heights," you murmur dreamily.

"Well, I'll be sure to hold onto you extra tight." Marcus takes a hold of you, pulling you fully into his arms.

"Like this?" You whisper.

"Just like this." He says as he wraps them around your back.

"You won't let me go?"

He shakes his head. "Never."

You find yourself straddling his lap; your bodies simply moving of their own rhythmic volition as they slot into place effortlessly and without instruction or hesitation; his large hands sweep up your back as you kiss him deeply.

Your fingers roam in the softness of the greying silk of his bearded scruff. You explore the broadness of his shoulders, the tightness of his biceps over the soft cashmere, journeying over the wide expanse of him as he pulls you closer in his protective embrace.

"I don't want this to end," he murmurs into your shoulder.

"Me either," you sigh with a smile. “This might sound incredibly forward, but... I want you, Marcus,” you whisper into his mouth.

You can feel him pressed against you, hard and swollen in his pants and it’s difficult to ignore his desire when it so brazenly taunts your own.

“You’re sitting in my lap on my bed, I think we're past being forward,” he chuckles.

“True,” you giggle.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? There’s no pressure at all. I didn’t invite you here with an agenda.”

You nod with a keen smile. “I know. But I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life than I am right now. Do you want me, too?”

“I’ve never wanted someone so much.” He says with glistening eyes. “It’s been so long though. I-I don’t even know if I’ll be any good.” He gulps heavily and it wrenches your heart a little.

You press your fingers to his kiss-bruised lips and he can’t help but mouth against them. “Marcus, you're perfect.”

“Kiss me again,” he whines as he presses himself even closer to you.

Attaching yourself to his lips once more, he sighs contentedly into your mouth, tongue swirling gently around yours and sucking on your lips.

He holds his arms up as you lift up the hem of his sweater. Your fingers slide over the silk knot of his tie, undoing it. He loves that when you loosen it, you use it to yank him forward to kiss you deeper still, guiding him closer to your body to be tangled up with you.

You undo the buttons slowly on his shirt to reveal tanned skin and the broadest shoulders you’ve ever seen on a man.

A couple of scars dapple over them and his sternum, like white lightning streaks against the gold shimmer of his skin, and he shudders as you trail your fingertips over them delicately.

“I wanna know all about these.” You say beholding him. “You must have some incredible battle stories from your time in the Heroics.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” He promises.

“I wanna know everything about you.” You breathe as you feel him nibble at your collarbone.

“The feeling is incredibly mutual,” he replies softly as he brushes your hair from your face. “Can I take this off?” Marcus asks, running his fingers along the silken hem of your dress that’s ridden up your thighs.

“Yes,” you smile at his politeness despite the carnal heat running through the both of you.

He pulls it up over your head and audibly groans at your choice of matching underwear, lacy and delicate.

His eyes trail hungrily over your body and you don’t feel the need to cover up the lumps, bumps and stretch marks; the way he looks at you burns in your core.

“You're just…” words fail him as you smile softly. “Wow.”

“It’s been a long time since a man saw me like this.” You admit, a little shy. "My body isn't what it used to be."

“You’re stunning. I’m lucky that it’s me who gets to enjoy you. Besides, I'm not exactly in my best shape." He grimaces looking down at the small swell of his tum puffing over his slacks.

"I think you're sexy." You say.

"Yeah?" He queries with raised eyebrows.

"Mm, really sexy." You confirm, stroking over the soft fat of him.

"Is this okay? We’re not going too fast? I wouldn’t want you to feel like I'm only after one thing.” He checks.

“I don’t think that at all.”

“Good, because I really like you. I want to see you again.” He says earnestly.

“Me too.” You agree nodding.

“Is it too early to presume this might be the start of something really special?” Marcus asks with a crooked grin. "I dunno, I just feel it."

You shake your head. “I feel it too.” You agree.

He kisses you again and you taste the truth of his words.

“I wanna feel you too. You can touch me, Marcus.” You whisper to him. “I want you to touch me everywhere with those magic hands...”

He grins, and his hands, albeit shaky, massage over your mounds, trailing around to your back where he hesitates at the clasp.

“Take it off,” you murmur as he unhooks your bra and licks his lips as your nipples are revealed to him.

Leaning forward, he trails kisses across your collarbone until his lips find your nipple and he sucks gently whilst you rake through his subtlety greying hair.

A pink wet tongue teases over your skin as he licks, causing your back to arch, pushing your breasts further into his mouth.

“Mmm,” you whine as the pull of your nipple between his lips is felt buzzing on your clit in response.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he trembles, but his voice seems deeper somehow, with more of a heavy graze inside his cheeks. “I wanna make love to you all night. Discover all the ways to please you."

He kisses down your sternum just under your breasts. "I wanna make you come all over me…” He says between rasped breaths. “God, I want you screaming my name.”

“I want you inside me, Marcus." You gasp.

He groans at that. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Me either. But it feels so good.” You say, smiling at him.

You help him remove his pants until he’s in his boxers and lying back as you climb over him, leaning down to kiss him as his hands pull you closer to him.

The hairs on your body stand tall as his hands create that wonderful tingle to curl your spine out and your nipples to tighten.

The bulge in his boxers is unignorably prominent and you can’t abnegate yourself away from reaching down in between your bodies to feel him, squeezing over him gently as he grunts into your mouth.

“You feel amazing,” you whisper as he blushes. “I wanna taste you, will you let me?”

“Uh-uh,” he shakes his head, “that’s not how we do things in my house. Ladies come first.” Marcus smirks.

He rolls with you and you giggle as he kisses down your body to the thin hemline of your panties. He runs his hands up and down your hips and stomach, and you feel those tingly crackles from his fingertips ignite your skin once more.

He kisses and lavishes gentle nuzzles against your tummy, and you hum out feeling the soft tickle of his facial hair across it.

You lift your hips as he gently pulls down your panties, watching keenly as he kisses down your legs. He takes your ankle and rests your foot on his shoulder as he lays between your thighs.

And then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, Marcus transforms from hero to villain as he licks a long, lingering stripe up your pussy.

“Oh my God, yes…” You whine.

He looks up at you with molten brown eyes as he flicks his tongue back and forth over your clit and you sonic boom inside at the sight and feel of it.

He massages and strokes your inner thigh as he tastes you, running his tongue in and around your soaked lips and murmuring in keen delight.

The softness of his beard feels like liquid silk against your skin as his nose grazes and nudges your clit whilst he teases your hole, pushing his tongue inside you.

You reach down and pull off his glasses, giggling as the lenses are smeared with your slick already.

“You taste delicious.” Marcus husks before going back in for more, hungry for your as he laps and licks.

"Mmm, Marcus..." You whine, arching your back as you keen for more of his tongue. He presses it against your clit, sucks gently on the nub and licks and sucks through your drenched folds.

He makes you come with just his mouth, sucking expertly on your clit before he slips his fingers in, coming up to suckle on your nipple again as he pumps them in and out of you.

He’s astonished how wet you are for him; his fingers squelching and the sounds are lewd as he whelves.

“God, you’re so perfect,” Marcus says as he leans in to kiss you again: his beard his damp from your secretions. “So wet and tight. Does that feel good?”

“So good.” You groan.

“More?”

“More.”

He speeds up, fingers deep to the hilt of his knuckles. “Harder?”

“Yes!” You cry as you feel it overtake you, a mesh veil cast over your sight as the room fills with gold glitter.

“Marcus! Your fingers! Oh my God!” You gasp as you can feel those crackles again, only inside you now; deep in the pit of your core right on your spot, and your thighs shake uncontrollably.

He circles your clit with his thumb and the sensation completely overwhelms as you feel it there too, buzzing all the way deep into that fleshy hub.

Your eyes catch him smirking at you as he applies the perfect amount of tingly pressure. And that look in his eye tells you he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

You’re coming quicker than you can fathom, dizzy from the pulsing shocks and giggling uncontrollably at the delicious buzzing it creates.

“Jesus!” You yelp at him as he grins devilishly. “How do you even do that?!” You gasp as he pulls his fingers out and you watch, wholly spellbound, as he sucks them clean.

“Benefits of having a superpower, I guess. I used to think it was weird... having magnetised hands.” He remarks casually, as if he didn’t just rock your world with those digits of his.

“I don’t know how I’ll compete,” you say, pushing him onto his back as he kisses you.

“You’re perfect as you are, trust me,” he breathes, watching as you slide down his body.

You kiss over the soft swell of his tummy, lavishing it with wet kisses over and over as he gathers your hair inside his hands to watch you. You look up at him as your fingers slip into the fold of his waistband.

He nods, too dumbstruck to comment verbally as he watches you slip down between his legs and pull off his boxers.

He’s big - bigger than you anticipated, and so thick. You’re unsure how he kept it hidden in his pants all night. He’s perfectly uncut with a flush pink head that’s positively dripping for you.

You make out with his cock gently, barely mouthing over him with the gooey strings of his precum sticking to your lips like gloss, and making him hiss and gasp.

He’s well groomed and the subtle greys in the thatch of neatly trimmed hairs there at the base of him are just as soft as his beard.

You tongue his head, flicking back and forth over that drooling slit and taste the salt of him before teasing his frenulum that makes his hips buck involuntarily.

"Y-yeah," he chokes on a ragged whisper.

You take him in your mouth fully, and he groans long and deep, head lolling back as he feels your hot, wet mouth encase him and suck slowly down his length.

You can take him about three-quarters of the way before you feel him prod at the back of your throat, and although you're tempted to see if you can swallow him fully and press your nose against his soft belly, tonight’s not the night for ungraceful choking.

Although, your body flares at the thought of how uncouth and dirty he could be with you; imagining his usual politeness being traded for filthy demands as his huge hands press on the back of your head, forcing you to take him all the way down your throat.

You whimper around his cock at the thought, feeling your cunt contract and drip.

“You’re so good at that,” Marcus keens as he glances down at you.

Your eyes flick up at him as you smirk around your mouthful of him and it’s not long before he’s pulling you back up and kissing you with an intense hunger that steals the breath from your lungs.

He rolls you onto your back, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist as he grinds against your centre.

You whine as the length of him slides back and forth against your slit, soaking and greasing him up in your slick. The ridge of his head knocking against your clit builds you up again as you bite your lip staring up into his chocolaty eyes.

"Feels so good," you whisper, clutching onto him.

“Yeah? I don’t wanna hurt you, so I'll go slow, okay?” Marcus whispers as you reach for his thick cock and swipe him through your pussy lips.

You both shudder as you do it.

“You won’t.” You reassure him as you stroke him and he groans. “I want you inside me.”

He lines up, his swollen head dipping slowly into your fleshy folds as he lingers there, pushing gently and barely against your hole.

You’re so wet he could easily slide all the way in with one flex of his hips, but it feels too damn good already, and he’s apprehensive to finish so quickly before he’s even started.

“The things I wanna do to you...” Marcus murmurs bashfully.

“Sounds intriguing,” you smirk as he pushes in a little more. "Tell me, I-oh!"

You gasp as you feel yourself opening around him, stretching as his thick head pushes in further.

“We’ve got all t-the time in the... ahhh, world,” he breathes. “All the time to find... hmmm, new ways to pull you apart on my cock. My fingers, my tongue…” He grunts as he slides in.

“Mmm, fuck," you let slip in his ear and he groans.

“Fuck indeed,” he grizzles as he pulls back a little and slides in again, and hearing him finally curse makes your body shudder.

"You're so perfectly tight around me," he puffs.

“You feel so big,” you say, nodding in encouragement. “I want you to fill me up, Marcus.”

“Yeah?” He breathes as he slides in further. “Stop me if it's too much.”

“It’s not too much. It's perfect... you're perfect. Ohhh. More.” You pant. “Please, I wanna feel all of you. I need you.”

“You need me? You need my cock, hmm?” He teases with a grin.

“Mmm, I want it so badly.”

"I want you so badly."

You look down between you as he breaches fully, hips flushed tight against you as he bottoms out and you both groan, eyes pulled back to one another.

You grapple for him, desperate for him to kiss you again as he works his hips. Soft breathy pants fill your ears as he finds satisfaction and a steady rhythm within your wet warmth.

He’s gentle, but powerful; winding slowly, and buried so deep inside you. It feels like it’s too much, but not enough and you claw at his back desperately each time he withdraws and thrusts back in.

“Mmm, you’re so deep…” You murmur into his lips.

“It’s not too much?”

“No, you feel incredible.”

“You take me so well, hermosa.” Marcus praises.

“Oh, I forgot you speak Spanish…” You smirk, all glistening teeth at him.

“¿Quieres que te hable sucio en Español?” (Do you want me to talk dirty in Spanish to you?)

You chuckle, utterly beside yourself. “I have no idea what you just said, but yes. God, yes!”

He smirks into your lips as he kisses you again, his hips doing all the work with each, deep languid stroke.

“I love feeling every inch of you.” You pant as he speeds up a little.

“All of me... Every. Inch. Of. Me.” He thrusts on every syllable, deliberately making you gasp.

“You feel so good, Marcus. I’m gonna come soon.” You sigh, feeling it build behind your core muscles, cinching and tightening in that delicious wind before you snap back on yourself.

“I can feel you squeezing me. I bet you’ll look so beautiful when you come all over my cock. Come for me. Let me see you.”

He feels your fingers bruising in his skin, tastes your pants fizzing on his tongue like sherbet.

Sitting upright, he pulls your hips right up off the bed as he slips back inside you, fucking deep into you on his knees.

He hits all the right spots at this angle and your whimpers soon become loud hollers and yelps as he pushes against your spot relentlessly and tosses you into oblivion once more.

"Come for me," he pants.

You claw at the sheets; your eyes rolled so far back that you swear you can see the inside of your skull and all the swampy lilac clouds floating around in there. Your body sheens with sweat already, as does his; mercury drizzle, shimmering in the pale light of his bedroom lamps.

You’re almost there; a flutter in your chest as your heart flies away to be gifted to him with metallic ribbon curls wrapped around it. A building warmth, igniting from within, growing more wild like fire consuming and burning everything up in its path, scorches your skin.

An electric charge of anticipation, spurred on by the crackled pulses from his fingers around your hips, pulls your orgasm right out of you like ridding you of a hostile possession.

You screech as it leaves your bones.

“That’s it, hermosa. Come for me!” Marcus pleads with a hiss as you shake and gasp as he turns you inside out.

Pulling you upright against his chest, he’s stunned at you. “You look so beautiful.” He says, almost choking as your bonelessness.

“M-Marcus!” You wail, his cock buried deeper.

“Yeah, keep coming for me,” he encourages as he watches you wind and bounce on top of him.

You groan, throwing your head back and losing count of the number of times he’s made you come already.

You slow and grind on him as iridescent bubbles flow and burst around you; your thighs never-ending in their shaking, and he watches in rapture as you take his breath away.

“From behind?” You suggest breathlessly after a few moments of coming down from that tremendous high he throws you up to so easily.

“Anything you want, beautiful.”

He slides down your body, kissing the length of your back and all over your butt cheeks before spreading you open and tasting your pussy again with his tongue.

His lips never leave your skin, even when you turn around and bend forward with your ass up in his face.

He reaches down between your legs to stroke your clit. You feel him kissing the side of your head, nuzzling into you as he pushes himself back into you slowly. And the feel of him at this angle, this depth, makes you mewl as he hits deeper than before.

He stops for a moment when he sees you backing up and gyrating on the end of his cock, reaching round to grab the meat of his thigh and moaning incoherently at how good it feels.

“You look amazing doing that,” he drawls before holding onto your hips and drawing deep into you with slow, measured thrusts shunting through your body. “That feel good, like this?”

“Yeah… so good.”

“Mmm, I-I can barely stand it,” he pants. "I'm close."

“Come for me, Marcus.” You whisper to him as he fucks you faster.

“Mmm, oh God.” He whines as his hips start to snap harder, his grip around your hips squeezes tighter.

He's marvelling and gasping as he watches you shake again, shake for him. That he still has the power to make someone feel this damn good after all this time.

That he could fathom such a thought of making love to a woman again when he had convinced himself for so long he would endure his remaining years alone, his left fist as his only release.

But then you showed up, careening into his life through a device he held in the palm of his hand; laughing at his humour, smiling that incredible smile at him. Wanting to know more about him and just... wanting him.

And here he is, deep inside of you now and not able to get enough of how you squeeze around his cock bringing him to the brink of his own annihilation. You kill him and resurrect him, to do it all over again.

“I’m gonna come!” Marcus pants, cheeks and chest flushed a glorious pink amongst the natural bronze.

“So am I. Don't stop!” You wail.

“Where? I’m so close! Tell me where you want it...” He can feel it building and rushing towards the end of his cock.

“Inside me, come inside me.” You pant.

“You sure?”

“Fill me up until it’s all dripping out of me.”

“Fuck!” He yells. "Oh fuck!"

Marcus growls out that sweet blasphemy that makes your toes curl and your cunt clench as he comes, filling you up as you so coveted, as he spurts out inside you - warm, thick and plentiful.

A brief moment of his weight against your back crushes you into the bed as he flops down over you, panting and groaning in your ear.

Smiling, you turn and kiss the side of his face buried in the crook of your sweaty neck.

“That was incredible, you're incredible.” He whimpers, voice all muffled in your skin and hair a few minutes later.

He rolls with you, pulling you into his arms against his clammy chest as you both catch your breath.

“I can’t take all the credit, you were pretty incredible yourself there, Mr Moreno.” You grin.

“Yeah. Looks like I’ve still got it after all.” He puffs with a bewildered chuckle.

“No doubt about that.” You giggle and laugh with him, as Marcus wraps the comforter around you both.

The soft hum of the morning unfolds around you.

Eyelids opening and lashes fluttering against his chest, you're accompanied by the distant sounds of nature awakening outside.

Marcus, still in the relaxed embrace of slumber, seems to embody the tranquillity of the dawn as you gaze up at him longingly.

His rhythmic breathing through soft snuffles, his heartbeat in your ear, resonates with the peaceful serenity that surrounds you in his downy sheets that smell faintly of his lingering cologne and your heady sex.

As you lay in Marcus's arms, you spend a few minutes contemplating the next exciting steps between you, when the prominent ache registers between your legs, which makes you smile as you recall the moment he first sheathed himself inside you.

It makes you clench around nothing and you moan softly in want, squeezing your thighs together at the vivid memory.

You’re compelled to kiss him, planting tender smooches across his chest and up to his neck, when he stirs and his lips find yours and latch on again.

Your hand slides down his sternum, over the warm, smooth swell of his stomach, and you find him stiff and weeping for your touch.

He grunts into your mouth as you pump him, fingers wrapped around his length as he hardens fully. His own digits course those pinpricking tingles down your spine again as you shudder and arch.

He bites his lip, eyes closing in satisfaction as you work his cock and feel it throb with need in your hand.

Soon Marcus slips in behind you, clutching you close to his chest; his fingers entwining in tight knots with your own. He fills you again, your moans surrounding him as he kisses and nips on the back of your neck, and it feels like a dream you don't ever want to wake from.

You’re full of him, sticky and drenched from the night of intense love making that never seemed like it would relent. His stamina surprised you both, but was incredibly welcome, alongside the equally surprising refractory period that will leave you aching for days.

You lost count of the number of times he was inside you. Unable to get enough of each other, wanting more, more, more and giving more, more, more.

“You’re so beautiful in the morning,” Marcus cants into your ear as he fills you to the brim, fucking softly into you from behind. “What did I do to deserve you?”

He wraps his arms tighter around you as you squeeze around his cock.

“Trust me, I'm the lucky one,” you whine as his fingers slip down and stroke over your clit bringing about another orgasm that prickles and tingles under his expert ministrations.

You soon sit in his lap, rocking back and forth on his solid cock buried deep inside you as Marcus nuzzles into your face. You work your hips riding him, his shoulders banging gently into the headboard.

His hair is a sleepy, wild mess with streaks of grey running through short curls you never knew he had under that tamed back style he had for your date, and he’s never looked more beautiful as they fall into face.

The way he looks at you makes you come again, with something so warm and so sincere swimming inside his lust blown eyes at you.

"So beautiful, hermosa," he murmurs with a smile at you.

He leans back on his hand, his other squeezing around your butt as you ride you both to a mutual intense finale of whimpers and names called out in desire and want.

After you still, feeling him seep out of you whilst he remains plugged inside until he softens, fawning and kissing over your face, you smile gently as you plant kisses along his silky jaw.

“Good morning,” Marcus smiles as you feel his lashes against your cheeks.

“Morning handsome.” You sigh dreamily.

“How did you sleep?” He enquires.

“Terribly. I had an incredibly attractive man between my legs for most of the night keeping me up.”

“That sounds awful.” He smirks as you kiss him again, and Marcus determines he never wants to stop kissing you or hearing your breathy giggles.

“Sleep is for the weak. It was amazing.” You say and he’s inclined to agree, on both counts.

“You hungry? You wanna stay for some breakfast?”

“I’d love to.” You smile.

“What are you doing later this afternoon?”

“Hmm, not much planned, will probably be thinking about you.”

“Is that so?” He enquires with a smirk.

“Mmhm. I have a feeling you'll be hard to forget.”

“Want some company whilst you think about that, maybe some lunch, too?”

“Sounds perfect. Perhaps we can drag ourselves away from each other long enough to go for that walk.”

“Doubtful,” he concedes and you giggle nodding in agreement. “But we’ll give it a shot.”

“You’re incredible.” You whisper to him and his eyes soften as you regard up at him.

It's been a long time since a woman looked at him like you are now.

“No, it's all you, hermosa, trust me.” He smiles into your mouth.

"I like that, that thing you say."

"Hermosa?"

"Yeah." You smile.

“Good." He kisses your temple. "Stay here, relax. I’ll make you some breakfast in bed. Then I’ll drive you home, okay?”

He winks as you watch him pull on his boxers and reach for a pair of grey sweatpants hanging out of the hamper.

“You spoil me, Mr Moreno.” You say, watching him pull them up his thick, muscular thighs.

“Mmm, I intend to. How do you feel about pancakes?”

“Ugh, my hero.” You swoon.

“Dad?” Missy calls as he hears the front door open around twenty minutes or so after he’s arrived back from dropping you home.

Admittedly it was hard parting from you; kissing you with soft whimpers in the car outside your place, and basking in that post first date glow.

Marcus is hesitant to wash the scent of you off of his skin, convinced that if he does he’ll wake from this wonderful dream to find you’re not real.

A text from you, complete with an emoji purple heart, convinces him to stop being silly and that you are real, and last night and this morning was wanted and reciprocated in equal yearning.

He can't stop thinking about it, about you. His cock aches again as the images of you both wrapped up in one another flash behind his glasses.

Your message confirms the time for him to pick you up later and he smiles reading that you can’t wait to see him again. And to kiss him.

And to feel him inside you again...

“Hey,” he calls out from the kitchen, feeling heated as he tucks his phone away in his pocket.

"How was the date? Don't leave out any details!" Missy warns as she makes her way down the hall.

She comes in, putting down her bag and immediately spots the coffee cups and plates as he gathers them to wash up; clear evidence that he’s had some company this morning.

Then she spies his dishevelled appearance, clad still in the creased t-shirt and sweatpants he drove you home in, and hair that hasn’t been combed as he quickly rakes his fingers through it almost desperately.

She grins up at him as he tries not to blush, but fails. “I might omit some details.” Marcus says sheepishly.

“Must have been a hell of a date.” Missy mirths, perching on the breakfast bar stool.

“Well, she’s a hell of a woman.” He says, smiling behind his spectacles. "It was really... wonderful. She looked stunning, and we had a really great time together."

"Yeah, I bet you did." She remarks with a widening grin.

"Stop it." He groans, flushed.

“You’re glowing.”

“Shut up.” Marcus mumbles and fails to stifle a wayward grin.

Beaming, Missy watches him as he fills the sink with soapy water.

“What?” He asks after he can still feel her eyes on him.

“Are you seeing her again?”

“Yeah, later this afternoon for lunch.” He smiles.

“Good.” She chirps.

She comes up beside him, picking up a dish cloth and dries the dishes as he places them in the rack.

They both complete the task in silence, both trying to stifle their grins at one another.

Once done, she turns to him.

“I’m really happy for you, Dad.” Missy says, as she wraps her arms around him. He rests his chin on top of her head and smiles.

“Thanks, kiddo.”

“Go and shower. You smell like a slut.” Missy remarks.

"Potty mouth," he points at her with a mock-frown.

"At least I know where mine's been..." She grins.

Shaking his head in defeat, Marcus chuckles, blushing beet red, as he pads out of the kitchen and up the stairs, feeling more invincible than he’s ever felt before.

💜

Thank you so much for reading my Marcus Moreno story (if you made it to the end, hopefully you did!) and I really hope you enjoyed it. I'd love to hear your thoughts about my version of him. Thanks so much! 🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST | MARCUS MORENO MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno fluff #marcus moreno x you #we can be heores fic #jett's writing #sometimes heroes are more than just super #mature marcus moreno

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jazzthatonewriterchick · 7 months

Text

First Day Jitters (Pornstar!Bakugou x Fem!Reader 18+ One Shot)

"Tell me what you like."

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader (Costars to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you spend your first day on the job as a pornstar with your favorite adult film persona in front of the cameras and are shown what it’s really like fucking with a pro.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Adult!Bakugou (he’s in his late 20s/early 30s); Reader's Race is Not Specific; Pornstar!Bakugou; Pornstar!Reader; Anxiety Comfort; Flirting; Sex on Camera; Verbal Consent/Cues; Mild BDSM; Dirty Talk; Foreplay; Fingering; Edge Play; Daddy Kink; Cunnilingus; Analingus; Deepthroating; Ball Sucking; Hair-pulling; Mild Choking; Mild Degradation; Doggystyle; Cum Facial; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Okay. So I was watching a porn video a couple days ago & started thinking about Bakugou as one of the actors. Then I came up with this one. Enjoy & go touch some fucking grass! Luv y’all! -Jazz

**********

The lights are so bright. The actors never tell you how bright the lights are when they’re in a scene.

But standing here now, in the gorgeous, expensive-looking bedroom where you’re starting your first job as a pornstar, you realize how blinding the overhead lights really are. Actually, everything seems a lot brighter and sharper now––the cameras; the behind the scenes crew; the morning sun pouring through the balcony window onto the king-sized bedroom.

The location for this particular shoot is absolutely gorgeous. The estate’s lawn is nothing but rolling hills and beautiful flowers while the house–which is really a fucking castle–is filled with smooth, marbled floors, dozens of bedrooms, a backyard pool, and expensive art hung upon the walls. The estate you’re at is apparently owned by a fancy country club. After pulling some strings, Jirou, the director for this shoot and one of the most prominent female porn directors in the industry, managed to snag it for the shoot.

You would’ve felt way more comfortable without the activity swarming you as soon as you arrived at 9AM on the dot: cameras; lights; boom mics; a director’s chair; stylists, cameramen, a sound crew, and other employees making sure this whole shoot goes right. You didn't realize so much went into making one porn video.

Jirou comes up to you then, startling you in your breezy sundress and slides. She looks stressed, running a hand through her dark purple bob. “Thank goodness you’re here on time, Y/N,” she sighs. “It’s good you’re so punctual. That’ll do you good in this industry.”

“Thank you,” you softly mutter because you’re not sure what else to say. “Is my co-star here? I didn’t see him when I came in.” You’ve been here for almost an hour and haven’t seen him anywhere in the house.

Jirou huffs, checking her phone once again. “Not yet. He’s stuck in traffic. Your makeup and hair stylist isn’t here yet either! She’s supposed to be here before the star; not after!” She pinches the bridge of her nose, dark, shiny nail polish coating her fingernails.

You clutch your bag closer to you, nervous butterflies fluttering about. Her frustrations are only making you more nervous. A part of you hopes that all of this goes to shit so you don’t have to go through with it today. Maybe you rushed to fast into this. Maybe you should’ve told your management team that a porn shoot isn’t the way to go to get your name out there yet. Shit, you’re already in the industry! Your cam girl persona is the most well-known one on the internet and off!

You’ve been a cam girl for over five years now, making erotic role-play videos for horny viewers on the other side of your screen. In those five years, you’ve gained recognition for your creative role-play content and even an award for “Erotic Performer of the Year of 2022” after one of your videos gained over ten million views (and counting!). It was a video where you’re sitting in front of a black backdrop, naked, and in only a chair where the camera zooms in on your body and moves to give the illusion as if one of your viewers is there fucking you. You had worked with a small tech company to accomplish the special effects and gave them all their props in your acceptance speech.

Since then, it’s been nothing but blessings––money in the bank, more views on your videos, and the ability to upgrade your content with better costumes, wigs, and equipment. However, you weren’t expecting to be reached out to by one of the biggest porn companies in Japan. A month ago, a consultant at Divine Productions emailed you, asking if you could meet with them and the head of the company for a meeting.

You especially weren’t expecting them to want to hire you to join their team of models. “You’re a visionary!” the head had told you, making you flush in your seat. “Your content is incredible as are your ability to draw your audience into your videos. Plus, you’re not bad on the eyes. We’d love for you to join us!”

That’s when they presented you with a contract: a five-year deal with them, unless you decide to leave early or stay with them, where all the money gained for each video you star in will go to you. You practically jumped at the chance!

Since then, you’ve been given your own management team who books all of your videos for you (with your say, of course) and makes sure you get every cent promised to you. Now, here you are, a month later, about to make your first porno with another star that you’ve never met before…not to mention that he’s one of the biggest pornstars in the industry and one that you have the most embarrassing crush on.

You’re taken out of your thoughts when the bedroom door slams open, revealing Mina jogging in with her bouncy, pink curls and red face. “And there she is,” Jirou mutters, scowling at the girl.

Mina immediately drops her cosmetics case and bag, heaving. “I’m so, so sorry I’m late, Jirou!” she abruptly apologizes. “A tire blew on my car, so I had to Uber here. I’ve got proof too!” She pulls out her phone and shows you and Jirou a photo of her pink car’s deflated tire. “It just blew out as soon as I hit the highway,” she sighs. “I got it towed though.”

Jirou goes to tell her off, but a sharp sound from the ceiling stops her. Two of the crew members are there trying to fix the lights, leaving them one of them broken.

“Dammit, Denki!” Sero groans, on a latter beneath his blonde coworker. “I said on your right! That’s left!” Denki glares at down at him from at the top of the latter. “Hey, you try doing this shit when these are dangling from the fucking ceiling!” he argues.

Jirou groans, rolling her eyes. More shit for her to stress over. You honestly feel bad. “You get a pass this time, Mina,” she says, narrowing her eyes at the stylist. “And you’re lucky Bakugou isn’t here yet. Just get Y/N in a seat and get her camera ready, or else it’s your head.” She then proceeds to strut away in her heeled boots, hollering at Sero and Denki for fucking up her lights.

“You got it!” Mina calls after her. She turns to you with a smile. “She doesn’t really mean that,” she giggles. “I’m the best at my job and she knows it. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting though.” You smile kindly at her apologetic attitude, liking her already. “It’s fine, really.”

Shen then gathers her things and nods towards the bedroom door. “C’mon, honey; let’s get you in a chair and make you even more beautiful than you already are.”

She takes you out into the hallway where you change into a robe, sit in your actor’s chair, and watch as she brings out her hair tools and makeup products. You feel like a movie star…in a way. She first begins her magic by priming your face, her fingers massaging your skin gently yet expertly. Then she moves onto your eyebrows, first using a pencil to outline them and then moving onto filling them in.

As you sit there, still and quiet, you catch the eye of a familiar and very cute freckled face. Deku, the intern currently working at Jirou’s company, comes up to you with a wheeled cart of breakfast with a booklet under his arm. “Good morning, Ms. L/N!” he chirps. “I’ve got your script here and complimentary breakfast if you didn’t eat. There’s muffins, pastries, coffee…”

He runs down the best of the breakfast as he passes you your script and leaves Bakugou’s on his chair next to yours. You met Deku when you spoke to Jirou at her office about being in her video alongside Bakugou, whom you’d be meeting for the first time today. He had signed you in and walked you to Jirou’s office, being so kind, professional, and oh-so cute.

“Oh, thank you, Deku,” you giggle as Mina begins to blend out the counselor around your brows. “By the way, I told you that you don’t have to call me that. Call me Y/N, or even [Your Pornstar Name].”

His face grows beat red, making Mina snort. “W-Well, I’d prefer calling you by your last name,” he softly stutters. “It’s just more respectful. Plus, I’m sure you get called by your surname all the time already.”

Mina snickers from above you, busying herself blind out your eyebrows with a brush. “Soon, the whole world will know her as that.”

“Ugh, don’t,” you groan. “I’m so nervous, I could throw up.” Even as you stare at the script in your lap, you feel your stomach lurch. “I’ve got a trash can right here for that!” Deku shouts, immediately shooting for the trash can sitting next to you.

Mina stops him as you begin to laugh, some of your nerves ebbed. “Let me worry about that, intern. You just worry about getting that coffee to Jirou before she throws a fit.”

You practically see Deku’s stomach drop into his ass at the mention of his boss. “R-Right,” he says. He picks up a paper cup on the table and fills it with coffee before turning to you. “Well, good luck today, Ms…er, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll do great today.” He offers you a shy smile that makes him look even more adorable. “Thanks, Deku,” you softly reply with a smile. “I know you will too. You seem like a great employee so far.”

Deku’s smile grows wider as his cheeks grow redder. Mina rolls her eyes, bumping him out of the way. “Alright, stop flirting,” she playfully demands. “She needs to do that to her costar…unless you want to ask Katsuki to switch with you.” She looks over her shoulder at the intern. His smile fades and turns so red that you’re sure steam will come out of his ears.

With a stutter, he races off to the bedroom to give Jirou her coffee while the stylist laughs.

“God, I love it when he gets flustered! It’s so fucking cute!” You giggle with her and then begin to read your script as you pluck a pastry off of the table to chomp on. You didn’t eat breakfast. Your nerves were getting the best of you.

As you begin to read over the script and memorize them, Mina starts on your eyeshadow, giving you a nice, sparkly peach color to bring out the color of your eyes. “So it’s really your first time being in a porn video?” she asks as she begins to blend in your eyeshadow. “You were a cam girl before this, right?”

“Yeah, and that was fun, but the money was cutting it anymore,” you sheepishly confess. “So when I got that contract offer from Divine Productions and it being one of the biggest porn companies in Japan, I decided to take it. Apparently, the head saw my account and thought I had potential to make a name for myself in the industry.”

You stare down at your script, gripping the pages. “I didn't think I’d get my first scene offer with Dynamight, of all people.” Mina looks down at you, smirking knowingly. “You a fan?” she giggles. You flush at her knowing gaze. “Does it show?” you softly ask.

Mina coos to herself as she gathers a pack of false lashes. “It’s adorable!” she exclaims, making you even hotter in your robe.

The truth is you’re a big time fan of Dynamight. You have been for several years now. He, too, was a cam boy and would upload his content onto XVideos, Pornhub, and a cam site you eventually signed up for to jumpstart your career. You were immediately captivated by his raspy voice huffing out dirty words and those vermillion eyes that peeked through his black mask while his hand lazily stroked his cock. It’d feel like he was speaking to you through your phone and laptop…although that could just be from your pleasured haze as your fingers played with yourself along with him.

You would always leave anonymous tips for him to which he would thank you for. “Another $15 tip?” he’d chuckle, staring into the camera as if seeing you behind your computer. “Thank you, baby…whoever you are. Y’know, you don’t have to be shy. Shoot me a message one day and maybe I can thank you properly.” The way his voice dipped on that last word and his suggestive smirk nearly had you cumming around your fingers.

Soon, he didn’t need the tips anymore because he became a big-time pornstar. You became obsessed with him right then. Watching him fuck all of his costars (both men and women), sometimes alone and sometimes in threesomes, foursomes, and freaking orgies, became a treat for you to behold. You dreamed of being underneath him, feeling those big, rough hands on your neck; running your fingers along his tattooed pecs and arms he could break you with; have that heavy, thick, gorgeous cock fucking you stupid and filling up your mouth.

And now, finally and crazily, you’ll finally get to receive everything you’ve dreamed of. Your naughtiest dreams are soon to be a reality…just in front of cameras and other people.

“Don’t sweat it if your nervous,” Mina says, now moving onto blending your foundation and concealer with a beauty blender, dabbing delicately at your skin. “Katsuki is a real nice guy, though he seems intimidating.” She pauses to smirk at down at you with her glossy, pink lips. “And let me tell you, honey: he’s even better in real life than he is on camera. I know from experience.”

Your eyes widen in shock at her, your heart leaping. “Oh…were you a pornstar at some point too?” The stylist throws her head back and hollers with laughter. “No way!” she laughs. “I couldn’t make a living fucking all those people on camera back to back. I’m dating Red Riot.”

You nearly drop your pastry. “Thee Red Riot?” you gasp. He’s another one of your favorite pornstars. He’s just as sexy as Dynamight with his long, red locks and buff body, though you have your bias.

Mina smiles proudly. “Yep! He and Katsuki are good friends, too. About a year ago, we had a threesome and it was one of the best sexual experiences I’ve ever had. Hearing that raspy voice in my ear while he was fucking me gave me at least four orgasms that night.” She hums wistfully as she continues her work on your makeup.

As you go back to reading your script and your mind begins to drift off to your own threesome with Dynamight and Red Riot, you’re taken back to reality when you hear footsteps coming up the stairs. “Oh, and look who’s paying us a visit this morning,” Mina giggles. “Good morning, you two.”

You look up and nearly choke on your breakfast. Standing there, in the flesh, wearing sweats that your eyes are begging to undress and looking completely haggard, is the Dynamight.

He is just as tall, big, and sexy in person. Your eyes drink in his platinum blonde hair styled in an undercut; the piercing above his right brow and the snakebites puncturing his plush bottom lip; his sharp jawline dusted in facial hair; his arms, sinewy with muscle and tattoos that travel up the side of his neck; the way his tank top hangs loosely on his chest, revealing a sliver of his pecs and the golden chair dangling around his neck; his big ass feet in his Nike kicks.

He’s so fucking fine. When his eyes meet yours, you swear you have an out of body experience. He doesn’t smile or wave at you. He just stares. You’re not too sure what to make of it and nervously bite your lip. Does he like how you look? Is he disappointed? How the fuck are you gonna be able to fuck him on camera if even his stare make you nervous?

Kirishima aka Red Riot comes up behind him in a tight red V-neck and jeans, standing a whole head taller than his friend and costar. “Good morning to you,” he purrs, wrapping an arm around Mina’s waist and pecking her lips. “It’s definitely a good morning now. Oooh, breakfast!” He moves to the cart and plucks a bagel off, not even seeing you.

Katsuki wanders up to the cart too, scowling at the cart suspiciously. “That nerd come back here?” he grumbles. He plucks a paper cup from the cart and stands it underneath the Keurig set up with a silver container of coffee pods. Mina hums in an answer, still dabbing at your cheeks and temple. “He dropped off your script for today’s scene too, for you and your costar.”

Once again, Katsuki’s vermillion eyes shoot to yours, nearly making your lungs given out.

Kiri scowls in confusion, staring off into space. “Costar?” he parrots. He whips around to face you and nearly drops his bagel. “Shit, I’m so, so sorry! I just walked right by you and didn't even see you. That’s so unmanly of me.” He walks toward you, practically becoming an eclipse with how big he is. “I’m Kiri,” he says, offering his hand for a shake. “But I’m known as Red Riot.”

“I know you,” you giggle, shaking his hand. “And it’s fine. I’m Y/N aka [Camgirl Name].” He begins to chomp on his bagel, his eyes sparkling. “You’re that cam girl, right? Yeah, I’ve seen your face before!”

Katsuki suddenly comes walking up to you with his coffee cup now full, a plastic lid on top of it. “Don’t let Mina go crazy on you with all that makeup,” he gruffly says, bumping Mina out of the way. She scoffs, planting a hand on her hip while Kiri laughs. “You don’t need too much else.”

Your body flushes hot at his words. Does that mean he thinks you’re pretty? Finally, he extends his hand to you and you realize that he wants a handshake. “Dynamight,” he introduces. “Just call me Katsuki.”

Willing your hand not to shake, you shake his bigger, calloused one, imagining it around your neck. “N-Nice to meet you,” you stutter. A crooked smirk plays on his lips as his eyes trail over your body. You feel naked despite the robe. But as soon as the moment comes, it ends. He releases your hand from his and sips his coffee, pulling a disgusted face afterward. “This is fuckin’ decaf,” he growls. “I’m gonna go slug that nerd intern. Where’s he at?”

Mina nods at the bedroom where you can hear chatter among the crew. Katsuki snatches up his script from his chair and storms in there immediately, his raspy, demanding voice yelling out for Deku. Kiri sits down, replacing his friend in his seat. “I think he likes you,” he whispers, making Mina giggle to herself. “You didn’t hear it from me, but he was kinda excited to work with you on this scene when he found out you’d be his costar. I think he’s a fan.”

He gives you a wink that only sends those nervous butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. He could be just trying to gas you up or ease your obvious stress, but the idea of Katsuki already knowing who you are and being a fan only makes you want to bolt. “Well, that doesn’t make me any more nervous at all,” you exhale.

Kiri nods understandably. “I feel you,” he reassuringly replies. “I remember when I had my first scene, and that was a solo one. But I’ve done many scenes with Dynamight and he’s always so good with his female costars.”

“That’s what I told her!” Mina adds, now moving onto setting your face with some sweat proof setting powder. “He knows how to take care of his girls; especially the new ones.” She smirks down at you to which you avert your eyes from her gaze.

“You’ll be just fine, sweetheart,” Kiri cheerfully says. “Once you actually start it, the cameras, lights, and people will fall away.” You stare down at your script and stare so hard at the printed words that your vision becomes blurry. “I hope you’re right.”

Kiri pats you on the arm comfortingly. “Trust me; just ask Dynamight! He’ll definitely give you some advice, too.” A knock on the wall turns your attention to one of the crew members who stands in the doorway of the bedroom. “We’re starting in about 15 minutes,” he says.

Fifteen minutes? Your stomach flips and your mind begins to go into panic mode. You’re not ready. You barely remember your lines! Quickly, you skim over them again, even mouthing them while Mina continues to finish beautifying you. Finally, after applying a layer of pink gloss to your lips and some setting spray, she finishes in seven minutes. “And there we go!” she announces. “You’re camera ready, honey.”

She gives you a mirror to see how you look. You gasp at the woman staring back at you with her faux, doll-like lashes, rouge-blush cheeks, and soft, plump lips slick with gloss. You look beautiful. Hot. Sexy. Amazing. Any other adjective you can think of. Mina giggles at your reaction as she hustles you out of your seat. “Now, let’s get you dressed and this sexy ass out there so your costar can see for himself.”

After quickly disrobing and putting on your outfit–a mini sundress and platform sandals––you’re led into the bedroom where Jirou and Katsuki stand, waiting for you. Katsuki’s vermillion eyes flash with something identifiable when they land on you. You have no idea to wonder what it is, because Jirou is immediately pulling you over with her own copy of the script.

“There you are!” she sighs, exasperated. “Okay, so you both read over the script and know how this goes: Y/N, you’re a wife who is feeling horny after her husband left on a business trip; you’ve been seeing his best friend in secret and invite him over for a while; boom, you two fuck. But I was thinking in between that, you two could have a conversation about what you like, especially you, Y/N.”

You blink at her, your mind slowly processing her words. “Like kinks and stuff?” Jirou nods, looking happy that you understand what she means. “Exactly that! I’ve gotta give credit to Katsuki since it was his idea first, since you’re new and everything. It’d give him a chance to get to know you so this scene is as natural-looking as possible.”

You turn to Katuski, who is already blankly staring at you, in shock. Suddenly, you start to believe that Mina and Kiri were right about him taking care of "his girls”. “Thanks,” you softly murmur. He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “It’s whatever,” he deadpans. “You’re my costar, right? I’ve gotta take care of you, too.”

Okay. Now you’re sure that Kiri and Mina are right. His words make your pussy clench in your panties, your body affected by his statement. It’s nice to see someone take such responsibility in his costars in such a wolfish industry, but it’s even hotter to see a man be so adamant about making a woman’s safety and comfort his top priorities; not just his money.

Jirou goes back to giving you the rundown, not even aware of the way you’re eye-fucking your costar. “Now, for the script, you don’t have to remember every single word; just enough to get the point across to the viewers. Feel free to toss some improv in there. You’re lookin’ at the king of improv here.” She nods at Katsuki who smirks cockily at her. You had a feeling that most of the lines he’d whisper in videos that had you cumming all over your fingers or vibrator weren't scripted.

Jirou suddenly looks somewhere above your head, irked. “Fuck, that light isn’t right,” she hisses. “You two head to your posts and then we can start.” She stomps away from you, leaving you standing alone with Katsuki. You feel small standing beside him with how big he is. Not to mention how good he smells––like vanilla and cloves. You want to just push your face into his big pecs and motorboat him just to coat yourself in his scent; just to feel him.

“Nervous?” he asks. His intense, vermillion eyes stare into you. You flush, a nervous smile stretching onto your lips. “It shows, huh?” you sheepishly chuckle. “A little, yeah. I’m sorry.”

A confused scowl crosses his face. “What do you have to be sorry about?” he asks. “It’s your first day. Nervousness is normal.” Though his reassurance is comforting, you still feel that flip of anxiousness deep in the pit of your stomach. “I’m guessing you’ve never fucked another person on camera before?” he asks. The brazenness and vulgarity of his question stuns you, despite it being exactly what it is: getting fucked on camera.

“Uh, no,” you confess. “Just me, and it definitely wasn’t as intense or expensive-looking as this.” You wave a hand over the bedroom, cameras, and lights. “O-Or with a pro,” you murmur.

Katsuki raises his pierced brow at you, making him look even more attractive. “So you know of me,” he probes, a tiny smile lilting at his lips. You try to hide your embarrassment and come up with a lie on the fly that doesn’t make you look like a horny girl with a crush on her favorite pornstar. “How could I not?” you retort. “Anyone in this industry knows who you are. You’re, like, a veteran!”

He chortles, the sound oh-so sexy. “As much as I appreciate the love, you’ve got nothing to be nervous about. I’ve seen your little role-play videos and you seem like you’ve got what it takes to be on camera.” You blink at him, his words slowly processing in your head. “You’ve…watched my videos?” you carefully ask.

Now it’s Katsuki’s turn to be nervous. A light blush coats his cheeks and he rubs the back of his neck, the facade of an overly-confident man waning. You think you like this side of him more. “A few here and there, yeah, just to get familiar with you. To be honest, I had never heard of you before until my management told me you’d be my costar in this scene.”

Still, the idea of him watching your videos fills you with joy and pride, especially since he liked what he saw. Confidence floods within you and a tiny smirk pulls onto your glossed lips.

“Well, you’ve got any advice for a rookie, Dynamight?” you purr.

Katsuki doesn’t look like he catches onto your demeanor chance, but if he does, he acts like he doesn’t notice. He pauses, pressing his tongue against his cheek as he thinks of a good answer. “Just look at your costar and nothing else,” he finally replies. “When you do that, everything else fades away…and pretend that everyone is naked.” You giggle at the last one, your laugh making him smile in delight at the sound.

“Okay!” Jirou shouts, making you jump. She’s so loud that she doesn’t need a megaphone. “We’re good to go! Everyone get to your posts and for fuck’s sakes, Deku, bring me a regular coffee! Not decaf!” Poor Deku, standing near a camera by the door, turns beat red. “That’s all they had, miss!” he replies.

As a crew member comes over to take the scripts from you and Katsuki, your stomach drops into your ass. Here it is. There’s no going back now. Katsuki’s hand slightly brushes against yours as he walks by you. “Good luck,” he whispers, and though he doesn’t smile, he winks one of those intense eyes that haunt your dreams at you. Then he’s walking by and exiting the bedroom to ready for his cue, almost as if you dreamed it.

Quickly, with limbs like jelly, you go to sit on the edge of the bed like the script tells you to where a book sits for you to pretend to read. You open it and stare down at the pages, becoming more and more distracted as Jirou finally yells, “Action!” You swear, you nearly shit yourself.

Katsuki must be giving you time to situate and prepare yourself because he doesn’t act immediately. But after about two minutes, a knock comes from the bedroom door. “The door is open!” you call.

He comes in through the door, acting as if a director, camera crew, and a bunch of bright lights aren’t even there as he struts into the bedroom. “Hey,” he greets. “He ain’t here, right? He left?”

You swallow harshly, plastering on a smile to disguise your fear. “Yeah,” you reply, just like in the script. “He left for his business trip this morning. You know my husband: can’t sit still for even a minute.”

Katsuki takes a seat next to you on the bed, moving slowly like you’re a scared wild animal that is soon to either bolt or attack. You know it’s to make sure you’re comfortable and you swear you could kiss him right now. “So what did you call me over here for?” he curiously asks. “Not that I don’t like seein’ your beautiful face, but I thought you wanted to call this quits.”

You stare down at your hands, gripping your thighs to avoid them shaking. “I'm sorry I called you over here so randomly,” you sigh. “I guess I just got lonely. I originally dove into this relationship with you to express myself and get what I need since my husband can't give it to me.” You press a stressed hand to your temple. “But overtime, I felt horrible and called it quits. Now our sex life is even worse! Even when he’s here, we’re not together that much. He’s always busy with work.”

Your hand creeps across the bed to lay on Bakugou’s thigh, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. “Do you think you could help me with that?” you hear yourself asking. You peer up at him through your lashes, trying not to grow nervous at the crooked smirk on his face. “As long as he’s gone, I’d be happy to,” he softly growls. “If that’s what you want.”

He leans towards you then, moving his hand to cup the back of your neck. You can’t help the sharp hitch of breath that you can't help but make at his touch. “Relax,” he coos into your ear, low enough for the boom mics to not catch. “It’s just a kiss. But tap me twice anywhere on my body if you’re uncomfortable. That’ll be our cue.”

You give him a reassuring nod and then his lips are on yours. Your head nearly pops off as his pink, pillowy-soft lips and snake bites push into yours, an addictive combination of cold and warm. He tastes like mint gum and a tiny bit of fruit, like he had a smoothie before he came here. It makes him taste so good. You find yourself leaning into his touch, causing him to chuckle into the kiss. “You can touch me, y’know,” he whispers against your mouth. “I’m not off limits, babe.”

Your stomach flips at the pet name, even as your shaky hands move to touch him. As your mouth voluntarily parts to allow his tongue access to yours, your fingers run over his biceps and pecs; his lower stomach and sides. You moan appreciatively at the hard, toned muscle, relishing at the fact that you get to touch his body after wanting to for so long. The kiss is wet and sloppy, his tongue running lazily against yours and swirling in your mouth. No doubt the cameras are getting all of it, too––every stand of saliva that travels between your mouths.

When he pulls away, a shiny string of spit connects his plump bottom lip with yours. His vermillion eyes are hooded and blown with lust that you aren’t sure is just acting or actually because you’ve turned him on. “God, you’re such a good kisser,” he groans. “How the fuck did your man leave you unattended when you’re this sexy?”

Your script only tells you to giggle, so you do, feeling so much like a giddy schoolgirl. His big hands find your hips, coaxing you to stand up between his legs. “Let’s get this dress off,” he softly growls as his fingers trail up the hem of your sundress. You nervously bite your lower lip, but allow him to take off your dress by raising your arms over your head. Once your dress is off and on the floor, it is too late to turn back.

Though you don't turn around, you’re aware of the cameras, lights, and people behind you, all staring at your semi-naked body. You wear a yellow Savage X Fenty set that brings out the color of your skin and eyes, adoring your skin in lace trim. Katsuki’s eyes graze over your body, making you want to cover yourself and hide. But you don’t. You’ve got a job to do and you can’t disappoint everyone. Especially him. The “him” who is staring up at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. “Goddamn, you’re fine,” he hisses. “And so, so pretty.”

When his eyes bore into yours and his hands slide up your hips to bring you close, you realize how good he is at acting. But, of course, he’s a pro at this. “Thanks,” you giggle, “but actions speak louder than words for me.” You begin to unhook your bra, his eyes hungrily watching, and your breasts tumble out of your bra cups as your bra loosens its hold on your chest.

You stand before your costar, reveling in his hungered gaze lingering on your breasts and hardened nipples. He pounces onto you immediately, deliciously gripping one breast while the other is being drenched in his suckles and licks as his tongue laps at one of your hard nipples.

He alternates between each, palming one if the other has his mouth on it, giving each of your titties equal attention. You moan at the feeling of his hot, wet tongue and the cool metal of his snakebites on your warm skin. Your hands begin to trail in his hair, wandering aimlessly through his blonde locks. “You like that, pretty girl?” he moans against your nipple. “Tell me. Tell me what you like.”

You whimper as he sucks harshly on your nipple like he’s trying to draw milk out of it. You can feel your panties quickly beginning to dampen between your thighs. You know that this is the point where you tell him all about what you enjoy. “Could you…maybe…pinch them?” you softly ask. “Just lightly, like this.” You demonstrate, pulling away to lightly pinch your nipple between your thumb and forefinger.

Katsuki mirrors your movements, his eyes hungrily watching as you gasp and arch your back into his touch. “Anything else? What else can I do for you that your man don’t?” He then leans in to suck on your nipple again, coating it in saliva while he pinches and tweaks the other. The mingling sensations of pain and pleasure makes your pussy drip.

“Um…” You begin to rack your brain for some kinks, your mind quickly becoming blank from the pleasure. “I like being spanked,” you boldly reply. Katsuki looks up at you from between your chest, interested. “And choked. I like it when my hair is pulled while I’m being fucked too.” A smirk pulls onto his lips as his tongue slides up your cleavage, coating your skin in saliva. “Mmm-hmm,” he hums. “What else?”

He then trails back down to suck on your nipples again, all while taking two fingers and rubbing your clit through your panties. You gasp, your legs parting instinctively to allow him better access. “F-Fuck,” you softly moan, grasping his shoulders for balance. Your knees nearly buckle from the pleasure. “A little DDLG. Degradation, like being called a slut. Getting my face fucked. And facial abuse––like, when a guy slaps his dick against my face and on my tongue. I like facials, too.”

You begin to flush as your kinks become more devious. Freaky, if you will. “I really like anal play, too,” you murmur, "but if that’s too much–“

“So analingus?” he cuts in, raising an eyebrow at you. “Fingering?” He applies pressure to his ministrations against your pussy, having your toes curl in your sandals. “You like your pussy gettin’ spat on?” he purrs, pressing a kiss to your stomach. He sounds so excited, even more as excited as you do realizing how into your kinkiness he is.

“Yes, yes, and I’ve never had that before, but I’d want to try it.” You look down at into his crimson eyes, shivering at the lust there. “I can do that,” he growls. “Anything you want me to steer clear of?” You being to give him the rundown of everything you don’t like, loving how he nods and keeps his eyes strictly on you. You have his completely and utter attention as a costar now and hopefully in the future.

Katsuki slides one hand up your hip, looping his fingers through the waistband of your panties.

“Anything my little girl wants,” he coos. “Now do I have your consent to eat this pussy of yours?” His eyes bore into yours, pinning you to the spot. You swallow harshly, squeaking out a tiny, hoarse “Yes.”

He pulls at the waistband before letting it snap back into place against your skin, making it sting. You whimper at the slight sting like being hit with a rubber band. “Yes what?” he firmly asks.

The devious part of you is doing somersaults at such attention and dominance, especially considering that this is your industry crush. Though your throat is dry, you provide him with the answer he wants…and that is in the script: “Y-Yes, Daddy.”

Katsuki’s nostrils flare as he takes a sharp inhale, the title having an obvious affect on him. “Fuck, I’ll never get tired of hearing that,” he groans. And then you’re suddenly on your back, giggling at Katsuki’s sheer strength and his big body as he covers you, peppering your lips in kisses.

You know you’ll have to thank Kiri for his advice later because an hour into your scene with Katsuki, all of the cameras do fade away. In fact, everything except you and him are gone, fading into nothingness as soon as he gets his mouth on your pussy. His powerful, veiny hands sit under your ass, tilting your pelvis up so he can have perfect access to your sobbing, wet pussy that can't help but gush and cry whenever he moves his tongue against your clit or dips lower to play with your asshole.

“Fuck, Daddy!” you moan, writhing against the bed. Your hands grip the sheets and your eyes roll into the back of your head, all natural reactions to his wonderful tongue. You want to roll your hips into his mouth, but his hands have your hips stuck in one spot.

His crimson eyes peek through the valley between your tits, intimidating yet sensual. “That feel good, baby?” he teasingly asks between flicks of his tongue against your clit. “You like this shit?” He pauses to pull away and spit on your pussy, making it and your asshole glisten in his spit. He then dives back into your cunt to slurp it back up, the sloshing, lewd sounds of his tongue and mouth sucking on your pussy making your toes curl. The act is so vulgar and nasty that it makes you gush all over his face.

“Yeah,” he chuckles into your pussy, the vibrations making you shiver. “You like this shit, dirty little slut. You like Daddy eating this pussy.” You whimper in response, earning a harsh smack on your outer thigh. “Tell me how it feels,” he growls. “Tell me you love it.” He hits you again, making you gasp at the harsh sting.

“I-I love it!” you moan out. “I love your mouth on me, Daddy! Please, please make me cum!” Katsuki chortles into your pussy as his tongue works furiously at your clit. He takes you by surprise when one of his thick fingers slips into your hole, emitting a loud moan from deep within you. “You wanna cum for me, baby girl?” he teasingly asks. “Don’t cum till I say then. Be a good girl for me.”

You nearly lose your shit when he begins to slowly fuck you with his finger, gliding up against the underside of your clit while his mouth gently sucks on the skin covering it, teasing the little bud of nerves. You can feel your juices dripping down your asscrack to the sheets, staining them, but you don’t care. You can't care when you’re feeling this good. All you can do is moan and beg for release as Katsuki switches between sucking on your clit and your asshole, his jaw moving furiously and never letting up.

“Please, Daddy!” you whine, your back arching. “I need to cum! C-Can't take it anymore!” You start babbling for release, sobs escaping your mouth as your core tightens. “Please, please, please!” you cry, just wanting to cum. Just needing to gush all over his face.

Katsuki finally ticks his eyes up to yours, watching your body and your face. “Cum for me,” he demands in his orgasmic voice. “Do it right fuckin’ now. Give it all to me, baby girl.” And you finally do. That dam breaks in your core and your cum floods the gate as you burst all over your costar’s face.

“Fuck!” you gasp followed by a string of moans as you cum. You can’t remember the last time you had an orgasm this good. It has you feel like you’re floating off of the bed and seeing space. Katsuki greedily slurps up your cum, humming and moaning appreciatively as he does so. He cleans up your ass and thighs, making sure to get every ounce of cum, until you’re twitching from overstimulation.

He finally pulls away and sits up, smirking down at you with his lips and chin coated in you. “Much better than your husband, right?” he chuckles. You’re so gone from the orgasm that you don’t even remember the scene plot at first. It is that good! When you finally realize that yes, you’re in the middle of work, you nod and giggle in agreement. “I should return the favor,” you purr. “Can I please suck your cock, Daddy?”

Katsuki is already helping you onto your knees, a lustful look in his eyes. “Since you listened, I suppose you can,” he softly growls. “Just do a good job for me, okay?” You just smile at him as you happily unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. You’re more than ready to give him the best blowjob of any costar he’s had.

Minutes later after getting his gorgeous cock out of his pants and give him some tentative kisses and licks, he is deep down your throat and you’re gagging all over his cock. You can hardly believe this is happening! You choking on the Dynamight’s dick, making him moan and grip your hair to the point where it burns. He is so deep that your eyes water, tears dripping down your face and ruining your mascara.

He chuckles evilly at this, staring down at you as you gag all over his cock. "Look at you,” he breathlessly says, “gaggin’ all over my cock like a good little slut. Keep gaggin’ on that cock, baby. You’re doing so well.” He pushes your head down more, but keeps his hold on you light, allowing you the ability to pull away if you want. He then begins to thrust his cock into your throat, filling the tight, wet hole the same way he would your pussy.

You gag and gurgle along his thick, veiny, gorgeous dick, spit dripping down your chin and lips. “It feels good, don’t it?” he asks. “It feels so good to get used like this. Have a man know how to fuck a pretty throat like yours.” He groans as your throat vibrates and flexes around him, making him bite his plump lower lip. “You take me so well, sweetheart,” he gasps. “Such a good little cock sleeve.”

His degrading words have you playing with yours between your thighs which the cameras no doubt catch. When you begin to feel that tickle in your throat, you tap his thigh twice, immediately gaining his attention. “Need to breathe?” he asks, still staying in character.

You nod and he releases you, moaning as he pulls himself out of your mouth. You deeply inhale and cough, your jaw aching and your throat burning from the constant gagging and sucking. “Breathe, slut,” he growls. “And when you’re done, go ahead and finish suckin’ on me. Don’t forget my balls, too.”

After quickly gaining some recovery, you go back to your job, sucking on his heavy balls while he strokes his cock against your nose. All you can smell, taste, and breathe is him. He is all that matters to you right now. After going back to throating him for a couple more minutes, he finally pulls away and forces you to look at him despite your fucked-out state. His cock, tanned and veiny with a pink head, shines in your spit and his pre-cum.

“I wanna fuck you,” he growls. “You want that too?” Your stomach flipping excitedly and nervously, you slowly nods and give him a smile. “Yes, Daddy,” you reply. “I want you to fuck me, right now please.” A crooked smile curls onto his lips, blinding you. “Good girl.”

He moves down to press a kiss to your forehead, but only for the cameras. “Remember,” he whispers, "if you ever want me to stop, just tap me twice.” You nod, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his lips against your ear. “Good girl,” he repeats, though this time, it isn’t in character. It’s real and he really thinks you’re a good girl. His good girl. Butterflies swarm in your stomach and a goofy smile appears on your lips

In a blink of an eye, you find yourself on your knees and your costar mounting himself behind your ass. He gives you a sharp smack, causing your asscheek to jiggle. A giggle escapes your lips that is quickly swallowed by a moan when he slowly sheathes himself inside of you. Though it’s just the head, he is thick and stretches your hole instantly.

You both gasp at the same time as soon as he’s snuggly inside of you despite it only being the head. It’s a stretch and it takes a few breaths to take him, but Katsuki is patient and plays with your clit in the process, his knuckles gently brushing the bundle of nerves. “Take your time, baby,” he coos, stroking your back with his other hand. “Just breathe for me.”

His words, fingers, and the previous orgasm definitely help, making your cunt slipperier enough to take him inch after inch. With each inhale and exhale, he sinks deeper into you and pulls back until he is finally, slowly, fucking you. You gasp at each pump of his hips, each stroke of his cock inside of you, his balls brushing against your clit.

You feel your pussy accommodating to his girth, your walls stretching around him. You’ve never felt so full before, not even with your favorite dildo. He’s so thick that he fills up every inch of your pussy, making him feel a lot bigger each time he thrusts. “Fuck me back,” he growls, smacking your ass. “C’mon, fuck me back, baby. Show me how much you want this.”

With a whimper, you do as he says and toss your ass back to meet his cock. Your moans and cries fill the bedroom along with the sound of skin clapping against skin and the bedsprings squeaking below you. Katsuki grips your hips for dear life, nailing your pussy again and again, moaning every time he does so. “Goddamn, you’re takin’ me so good, baby girl,” he groans. “You’re so wet…so tight…so…f-fuck.”

You non-verbally agree with a moan, loving how full you feel with him. You can hardly believe any of this is happening. How many times have you dreamed of fucking Dynamight? How many nights have you rubbed your pussy to the thought of having him fill you up, fuck your brains out, and pump you full of his cum? Your eyes flutter closed from the pleasure and you fall deeper into the bliss he gives you with each thrust of his thick cock inside of you.

He then leans down to wrap his hand around your throat and press his lips to your ear, his hot breath and his touch making the fuck session even more intense. “I lied,” he growls. You blink confusedly. “Huh?” you softly exhale, keeping your voice low to avoid being heard by the mic.

“When I said I’ve never heard of you before,” he confesses. “I lied to you.” He then reaches down to rub your clit, emitting a loud sob from you and causing your pussy to tighten around him. “I’ve been wantin’ to fuck this pretty pussy for so long,” he groans. “I’ve watched you so many times, wishing I could have you all to myself.”

Your eyes widen at his confession. He’s watched you? He’s a fan of you? The fact of this makes your pussy clench around him. “Fuck, baby!” he breathlessly swears. “That turn you on? You like the fact that I’ve watched you play with this pussy on camera?” He fucks you a little harder, a little rougher, than before, gripping your hair, giving you a taste of what you’ve been dreaming of.

“Yes!” you shout, having lost your mind. “Yes, I love it! Please fuck me harder, Daddy! Make me cum for you!”

And he does just that. He wastes no time pulling you back with his hips and thrusting his hips roughly into you until he is railing you into the mattress. His speed is quicker than before, his grip on your hips hard and possessive. “Like that?” he asks. “Like that, little slut?”

You vigorously nod your head. “Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Please don't stop!”

His hand then roughly shoots out to bend you over, planting your face into the pillow. As he roughly fucks you from behind, all you can do is moan, scream, and sob into the pillow as his cock mercilessly turns your poor pussy into mush. He is almost feral in the way he fucks you into the mattress, grappling at your tits that bounce every time he thrusts his hips forward and smacks at the meat of your thighs.

Quickly, you feel your second orgasm dawning over you, about to spill over you and Katsuki’s cock plunged deep inside of you. “You wanna cum, baby?” he asks. “You wanna cum for Daddy?”

You pitifully whine in response, unable to speak with his hand grasping your throat and his dick stroking your insides. His cock turns your pussy into wet, gummy mush as it glides against your G-spot and his pelvis nudges against your sensitive clit. It’s all too much. You’re going dizzy from the pleasure. You’re seeing stars. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before.

Katsuki leans down to whisper something in your ear, yanking your hair to pull you back up from the pillow that is now stained in your makeup. “You wanna cum?” he teasingly asks. “You wanna cum on Daddy Dynamight’s cock?” He squeezes his hand around your throat a little more, constricting your breath.

You wordlessly nod, sobs of pleasure escaping you as your pussy tightens around his cock again. You can tell this orgasm is going to be a big, exhausting one. “Make me cum!” you beg, gripping his shoulders tighter. “Please make me cum, Daddy Dynamight!” He doesn’t need to be told twice. He plunges his cock into you at a breakneck pace as he turns your face to his, his mouth latched onto yours, your tongues swishing together.

He pulls away with a groan and stares down at you, his gorgeous face contorted in pleasure.

“Cum for me, Y/N,” he demands in your ear, using your real name. “Cum on this dick. Do it for me, baby girl.”

With a loud, long moan of his pornstar name, you do so, sparks of pleasure exploding in your body. You gush all over his cock, your pussy flexing and clenching around him as your orgasm floods your senses. You’ve never cum with anyone so hard before. It triggers his own orgasm almost instantly. He immediately pulls himself out of you, moaning as he does so. "Turn around,” he demands. “Turn the fuck around and show me that tongue.”

You do as he says, knowing what’s coming next. One of your hard limits and things to avoid was a creampie. Though you’re on birth control, it’s still extremely risky, so you told him you like facials better. You obediently sit on your knees before him, watching him eagerly fuck his fist in your face, his beautiful, wet cock ready to burst for you. “So fuckin’ pretty,” he growls. “So sexy…I’m gonna cum all over you.”

You stick your tongue out for him, keeping your eyes on his. ‘I want it,’ you wordlessly say. ‘Cum for me.’ He stills his hips and his body tenses as his cock spurts rope after rope of hot cum onto your face and tits. “Fuck!” he bellows, his raspy voice echoing against the bedroom walls.

You weakly whine as you feel each spurt of cum splash onto your cheeks, mouth, and tits. It makes you feel used, and you love it.

Finally, Katsuki takes a breath and releases his now-soft cock dripping in cum. He stares down at you with a crooked smirk. “How was that for help?” he chuckles.

“And cut!” Jirou yells. “That’s a wrap!”

You blink confusedly, wondering what she means and how she got here. From the sidelines, Mina cheers for you while Kiri gives you a thumbs-up and a grin. When you look around at the cameras and crew, you remember in your fucked-out, dazed mind that you’re working. You just shot your first porn scene with Dynamight. Suddenly, the nervousness you felt when the scene started comes back.

“Great job, guys!” Jirou praises you as Deku walks over with some water bottles and baby wipes. “You did a fantastic job. You two really work well together.” She smiles proudly at you and Katsuki before her face quickly turns into a glare directed at Deku. “Where are there robes, Deku?”

Deku's face grows red hot. “I-I forgot!” he stutters. “I’ll go get them right now!” He passes you a pack of wipes and the water, all jittery and jumpy. “Sorry about that, Y/N,” he apologizes. “And you did a really good job, by the way.” Katsuki and Jirou each give the intern a glare before he skitters off to fetch the robes, Jirou following behind him to make sure he listens.

Katsuki, still naked and shimmering in sweat, leans back onto his hands to look down at you. “That was a great take,” he sighs. “How’d it feel for you?”

You begin to slowly clean yourself up with the wipes that are lavender-scented. “It was,” you agree. “And pretty good. The cameras went away once we…” You pause, growing hot despite what you two just did.

Katsuki chuckles at your embarrassment. “Fucked?” he finishes, raising an eyebrow at you. “You’re pretty good at it, y’know. I think you’re gonna go far in this industry.” His compliment makes you smile. Suddenly, he becomes nervous and adverts his eyes from yours as he cracks open a bottle of water. “So you got anything to eat?”

You blink at him, confused at what he’s asking. “Uh…I didn’t pack a lunch,” you reply. “I figured I’d go get something after cleaning up.”

He looks at you once before quickly looking away, his cheeks pink. “Well, when you’re done showering and whatever, we could grab something…together…if you want.” He gnaws on his lower lip that you just kissed and licked at, not at all coming off as the cocky, confident man he was earlier.

The sudden change in persona nearly gives you whiplash. And then you begin to giggle. Dynamight isn’t at all nervous to fuck on camera, but he’s nervous to ask a girl out for lunch? You decide right then that you’re definitely going to enjoy working with him in the future. “I’d love to, Katsuki,” you reply, making a point to use his real name.

He smiles sweetly at you then and once again, the cameras, lights, and crew fade away.

THE END.

#bnha smut #smutty smut #my works #black fanfic writer #black writers #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #costars to lovers #coworkers to lovers #18+ one shot

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