❤️‍🔥

When Bruce says “jump,” you say, “how high?”

When Bruce says “listen,” you’re all ears.

When Bruce calls you returning from patrol in the dead hours of Stygian dusk, his voice reduced to husky, needful growl, “I need a reward after a long night—”

Well, you already know what to do. When the sleek automobile rolls in with a rev of exhaust and smoke, the cockpit door hissing open with an exhale of air; you’re already climbing in to provide. And this leads to the situation that you’re in now, in the dark, tinted interior of the car. Thank goodness for small mercies.

After all, were anyone able to see through the obscurity of the opaque windows, they would see you. Admire you in total, disheveled nudity, the fine tack of sweat from exertion budding on the sinew of your skin.

They would see the way that you bounce on his cock. The way that his fingers have clawed deep fistfuls into the flesh of your ass, holding it as though he’ll never receive chance again.

It’s hot in the car. This is due to your shared chorus; the shallow, broken moans that you make coalescing with the raw, jagged groans that he makes as you sink back down onto the curve of his cock.

And he spreads you wide, a delicious stretch that you’ll never get enough of—not when it sends a wicked bolt of pleasure through the meter of your body.

“Oh—Bruce—”—You gasp, feeling the rough drag of his cock, thick and wide, as it glides into you. As he keeps you unable to voice further thought with the way that each heavy thrust chases away any coherent word, any formidable thought.

All you can focus on is the way that he buries himself inside of you with each diligent pump of his hips, keeping you tethered to the rhythm that he fucks you on.

You’re stretched so, so wide, the pleasure barely masking the burn that settles dull and deep. Your head lolls back as you wrench your eyes shut to keep yourself awash in the overwhelming cascade of sensations.

There's so much—the clutch of his hands, the brute force that he uses to keep your legs spread wide around the span of his, to keep you as his own personal stress relief.

“Fuck—”—You reel forward, your hands sinking deep fists, making desperate purchasing scrabble into the cowl he’s yet to shed.

How needy your husband was when he returned, how hot and wet his tongue was as it laved up your neck, as those exploratory fingers shucked you of unnecessary things like clothes—

He fits you so perfectly, his cock making your walls clench and flutter around him, satisfying a deep-rooted hunger that only your body can satisfy. You make this clear by the way that he’s reduced you to little more than guttural moans, to untethered delirium —

His mouth latches around your nipple and sucks with a starvation that he seeks to slake with the rasp of his tongue. You feel the harsh scrape of teeth around the pearl he works to coax with the rough lapping he makes.

And the yelp that you make is soon swallowed up by the concurrent moan he makes as he adjusts angle, snapping his thighs up against you—and you feel heaven for one fleeting instant.

“Bruce—”—You cry out in desperate keen. But all you get in return is another needy, groaning suck that worries at your nipple, the continuous thrust and glide of his cock as he works to fuck you stupid.

You’re certain that the windows must be fogged up. There must be the tell-tale rock of the car with the way that his cock makes such greedy slap against you, the desperate pace that he pushes you closer to the edge with.

“You’re gonna make me come—”—You wail as you feel the tell-tale twitch of your thighs, the torturous crescendo of an orgasm breaching any other need. And he only releases your nipple with a lewd pop, holding your gaze as he keeps that pace of his cock inside you.

“Good,” Is all he says, before he decides to devote studious attention to your other nipple. And you swallow your moan with a shaky breath to get ready for the ride.

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How many people could say they have one of the top heroes pining after them? Well not you, but that’s just because you have absolutely no idea it’s happening. You’re actually the only person to not see it from a mile away.

Toshinori Yagi never even considered himself especially subtle about his feelings, even in his true form it’s hard to hide the blushes and sweat on his gaunt face. Add to that how even more noticeable every expression is when he’s in his hero persona and the fact his coworkers and students are also heroes trained to be observant of things? Let’s just say everyone at UA was wondering when he’d finally confess to the new hire. After all, even if he’s a little older, he’s still a really sweet, nice guy, you’d have to be crazy to not want to go out with him!

Of course you’re not crazy, just ridiculously oblivious.

Right now, he felt like a bit of a creep, peeking through the break room door at you eating your lunch. He wasn’t trying to be creepy though, goodness no! He just couldn’t stop his heart from beating fast and palms sweating as he watched you smile at something on your phone. The former number one hero looked more like a shy schoolboy than the great All Might right now, but he couldn’t help it! You’re far too cute to him, he didn’t even stop staring when Hizashi Yamada passed by, whistling the wedding march obnoxiously loud. Gosh…he was totally a goner for you.

“Um hello Miss (y/n)…a-are those potato chips?” He says once he finally musters his courage and approaches you, nervously wringing his hands.

“Oh yeah! Want one?” You smile back at him, clueless to how he stumbled awkwardly over every word.

His fingers tremble a little as he reaches for the chip you held out for him, cheeks growing more rosy when your fingers brushed. Oh no, you’d definitely notice how much he was shaking right? Nope, you just smiled before eating a chip of your own, leaving Toshinori to chew slowly on the potato chip.

“That was good…thank you,” he says with a soft smile, like you gave him something much more meaningful than a piece of junk food. Well, this was it, he had to say something else. After taking a deep breath, he added “Um, I was wondering…if m-maybe you’d like to eat together..?”

“Of course you can sit with me! What are friends for?” You say back with a grin, blissfully pulling out a chair for him.

Well, that didn’t go exactly how he planned. Regardless, Toshinori sat down, mentally kicking himself for not being more direct. He fidgets a bit, watching you tilt your head curiously at him. Wait, maybe you’re catching on!

“Hey where’s your food?” You ask, glancing between him and the table in confusion.

Oh no. His face grows even warmer, ears turning red as he opens and closes his mouth a few times. How could he seriously forget his lunch bag? Well, obviously he was distracted, thinking about how cute you are, how much he wants to just squeeze you in a hug and kiss all over your face and…no no focus!

“Um I-I just…I’m still deciding what to eat! You know, sometimes I get so busy I forget to pack lunch!” He bluffs, rubbing the back of his head nervously, messy hair ruffling even further.

Standing abruptly, he moves to one of the vending machines near your table, clumsily pressing the buttons. He really should eat more than just some trail mix, but he doesn’t want to give himself more chances to mess up. You’re watching him, smiling a little to soothe whatever is causing him anxiety.

“I get that, but make sure to eat something good! We can’t have the kids seeing the mighty All Might distracted by hunger!” You tease lightly, giving him a wink that would look goofy to anyone else.

Toshinori nearly crushes the trail mix package in his hand when he sees that wink. It’s like you’re trying to give him a heart attack. Your laugh too, it makes him feel like a million butterflies are fluttering against his ribs. He just wants to hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life, and he plans to make that a reality.

“Miss (y/n)…” he says suddenly, voice no longer shaking, as if he was facing down a city level threat.

You turn in your chair, pausing mid-scroll online. The bewilderment grows when he suddenly kneels by your chair, your eyebrows shooting up as you stare in shock. He looks so serious, it almost makes you wonder if he’s upset with you, until he looks up with wide eyes.

“Miss (y/n), will you please accompany me to dinner tonight? I’d love nothing more than to take you wherever your heart desires, and if this makes you uncomfortable, I’ll back off immediately. I just need your answer desperately…please?” He speaks softly, hands clasped around one of your own, and you swear his eyes are shimmering and wet as he looks up at you.

It takes you a moment to process, but Toshinori looking like a kicked puppy makes you remember you need to speak.

“I’d love to…” you answer quietly, still a little stunned that he was asking you for a date.

His shoulders sag with relief, a soft smile crossing his lips as he gives your hand one last squeeze before letting go.

“Thank you…I promise to make it a special night.” He says sweetly, jumping to his feet.

He has so much to do now, reservations, buying flowers, ironing his best suit…it’s almost overwhelming. On his way out of the break room though, he feels a flicker of doubt, wondering if you’re sure. When he peeks back, he spies the little grin on your face, the way you’re covering your face a little and barely restraining a noise of glee. Smiling, he heads out, feeling plenty reassured.