All Might

It's a rainy day and All Might, the number one villain, decides to crash at your place. Things have always been tense between the two of you and despite your efforts to maintain boundaries, you can't help but feel drawn to the man. It's been too long since you've done anything physical with someone...and it seems the opportunity has been simply thrown at you. Who are you to deny someone like him?

You hummed to yourself as you entered the elevator, slipping your leather bag off your shoulders. Floor by floor you went down, impatiently tapping your foot as you watched the numbers decrease.

Tap.

Sigh.

Your stomach growled.

Maybe you shouldn’t have skipped lunch.

...and breakfast.

Unzipping your bag, you mindlessly searched for your wallet. Only the late-night food stands would still be open…maybe fried chicken for dinner? Saliva pooled in your mouth. Crispy, juicy chicken, fall-off-the-bone kind of wings slathered with a sweet, garlic sauce? Hell yeah. Besides, it was cheap.

Ugh. Slow-ass elevator.

Growing more impatient by the second, you carelessly rummaged through random knick-knacks and receipts. The rustling grew louder, matching the panic rising within you. Finally, as you unzipped the last possible pocket, disappointment washed over you. Bobby pins, hair ties, and a few measly coins stared back at you. No wallet.

Ding.

“Dang it,” you murmured, already in the lobby of the building. The metal floor groaned as you stepped out, dead set on sifting through your bag one last time to see if you just sucked at looking for things. With luck, it’d be like when your mom asked you to grab something in the fridge for her cooking and you were unsuccessful, only for her to find it in a spot you’d JUST checked seconds earlier. It was pure magic. Mom-shit.

Alas…you were just an idiot who’d left her wallet on her desk.

“Ugh…” With a pout, you dragged yourself back into the elevator and pressed the button to the 50th floor.

The numbers went up slower than normal. The mechanical hum of the elevator seemed to get louder. Even, the tapping of your foot became incessant, heard just barely over the now-loud elevator music. It was some sort of experimental free jazz, the kind of stuff you’d find live streams on youtube labeled as ‘Coffee Shop Jazz’ that everyone seemed to love for some reason. But you didn’t love it. No. You hated it.

Groan.

“Go faster!” The metal doors groaned as you kicked it with the foot, wobbling ever so slightly. That was normal, right? Upon closer inspection, there was a small dent. “Uhh…” You looked up at the security camera in the corner of the elevator, awkwardly smiling as you stepped in front of the door to cover what you’d done. Property damage…surely Might Towers wouldn’t fire you for something as miniscule as this.

To your surprise, the numbers seemed to speed up a bit.

Maybe bullying the elevator a bit had paid off...

Less than ten seconds later you arrived.

The doors quickly opened and you briskly walked to your desk. It was past midnight, the dim yellow lights reminding you that it was way after hours. It was kind of normal for you to stay extra long. Despite seeming like an impatient person…work wasn’t something you’d hated. You were never really in a rush to get home, instead focused on doing your best to finish the legal documents for All Might’s patrols.

It wasn’t a fun job, necessarily, but you liked knowing that you were somewhat involved in heroics. Turning a corner, you reached your cubicle. “There you are,” you smirked, resting a hand on your desk. It was a beautiful sight. Next to a pencil holder laid your cute little wallet in all its glory. Happy, you slipped it into your bag before making the small trip back to the elevator.

“Finally…” Oh, you could taste it now. You were gonna demolish those wings-

“Damn it.”

Startled, you snapped your head back, eyes and ears scanning your surroundings. It was no mistake. With hesitance, you came to stand in front of two gigantic spruce doors, a tacky nameplate adorning the name of your boss…All Might.

Click.

Immediately after the sound, a faint glow seeped through the narrow gap beneath the door. It was dead silent save for the mechanical buzz of the lights. No one was supposed to be here after hours. Especially not in his office.

A blobby shadow darted past the light.

“Hello?” You called out curiously.

No response.

Not long after the light faded out.

Within seconds, your bag was forgotten on the floor as was the thought of food. It was stupid. The same stupidity that’d made you leave your wallet on your desk. But you just had to check.

All or nothing…right?

Slowly, you turned the brass handle and quickly slipped through the small opening of the door. It closed without a sound. Your pulse was thudding in your ear and you quickly walked away from the entrance, head raising up to look at…

Woah.

It’s not like you hadn’t been in his office before, but man, you’d forgotten how nice it was.

A large pane of glass provided a beautiful view of the Tokyo skyline, blurs of orange, red, and yellow lights spanning hundreds of office and apartment buildings. The moon illuminated the room with a soft white, shrouding the desk in a luminescent…what the fuck.

All Might was breathing heavily, forearm propped on his desk as he…as he…

Your mouth fell agape at the mere sight of what you’d stumbled upon. Oh God, you wished you could have just forgotten your wallet and the fried chicken, a-and the–oh what the hell, you needed bleach to clean out your eyes after this.

“F…Fuck…” He exhaled through clenched teeth, his forehead pressed to the desk. You stood in silence, unable to avert your gaze as you watched his hand rhythmically move up and down. He moved with fervor, sliding his free hand to the edge of the desk to dig his nails into the wood, not caring when it began to splinter under the pressure.

You slid down against the wall, the view obscured by a table and couch in front of you, covering your mouth as you tried to process what you had witnessed. Oh God, how were you going to get out…

Your foot bounced with nervousness involuntarily and you’d forgotten where you were for a second, slapping your leg in frustration as your mind raced with options. “Shit, shit, shit..!” You whimpered under your breath, hiding your face with your palms.

All Might… always had such a golden boy personality. His charm and flirtatious personality were just a part of his social image. You’d never once would have thought he would be doing something as risky as… ‘blowing off some steam’ at his own fucking hero agency. He-

“I know you’re in here.”

You wanted to die.

Panicked, you scrambled to move forwards, ducking under a small table located just behind the sofa. Maybe he wouldn’t see you… you reassured yourself, nodding your head and gasping in small breaths of air. The top of your head rested against the side of the table, and you closed your eyes, pressing back against the couch.

Just stay calm… stay calm…

Those words meant nothing.

The wooden support brushed against your hair upwards, shifting higher and higher…and suddenly there was no table. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, squinting through your lashes only to be met with an iconic pair of yellow boots. A pit formed in your stomach.

You slowly craned your neck upwards, curling in on yourself as your gaze traveled from his thighs, mid-riff, chest, and finally…his face.

Cerulean eyes stared back at yours.

No words were spoken.

All Might shifted his hold on the small fixture before gently lowering it to the ground. He sighed, scratching his chin. His eyes were dark, obscured by the sharp shadows of his face, his usual smile instead replaced by a blank expression. With a grunt, he lowered himself, bending down and sitting on the floor in front of you, He sat, legs crisscrossed with a hand on one knee and his elbow on the other, watching curiously.

“I didn’t know I had an audience.” He leaned in, resting his chin on his hand. Seconds passed as you both tried to assess the situation. He squinted his eyes, studying your features in the dark. Suddenly his gaze softened. “You’re…”

He scratched his chin again.

“You’re Y/N, right?”

All you could do was stare. You’d never really seen the man up close. His blonde bangs were pointed upwards in a loose V, his features sharp and more… disheveled than he’d normally looked on TV. Despite the fact that he was sitting down, he still towered over you.

“...right?”

You flinched, nodding your head and breaking eye contact.

“Right,” he whispered to himself. You didn’t know what to do. Blood was rushing to your head as you tried to grapple with the situation, heart pounding out of your chest as you noticed him get closer.

“I take it…you won’t disclose this situation?”

It sounded more like a demand than a request.

You bobbed your head up and down relentlessly, hiding your face behind your hands.

“Y-you’re scaring me, a bit.” He chuckled awkwardly, running a hand through his blonde locks. “I’m…just a man, Y/N. We all, erm, although I’m not proud of it…have times where we need to cope with certain stress, problems…desires.” All Might trailed off, the tone of his voice shifting, changing… darkening.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Barely audible, you reluctantly pulled your hands away from your face, repeating yourself to sound more collected. “I-I-”

“Good.” All Might was inches from your face. He was leaning over you, gripping the couch with one hand. There was only one thought in his head. You didn’t move, even as you felt one of his hands cradle your cheek. Even as you felt one of his knees push your thighs apart. “Good.” He echoed, brushing his thumb against your skin. You were so soft, he noticed, so delicate. “Y/N…” He clicked his tongue as if to test the name, see how it sounded. It no longer felt like he was there.

It was then you noticed the spores. Under the faint glow of the office, you could see small pink dots sprinkled across the outside of his spandex suit.

It was the kind of thing you’d see in movies. A rare case on the news.

You’d laughed at the thought before…but now it wasn’t so funny.

Stupid aphrodisiacs.

“All Might, you- you’re not in the right mind!” His hand fell from your face, moving to the side of your neck. You froze as his fingers curled around your throat, not applying pressure…but just sitting there.

“I can’t suppress it anymore…” He groaned, burying his head into the crook of his arm. “No one was supposed to be…at the office.”

So that was why he was here.

“I’m…sorry.” He pulled his head back, releasing your throat and stumbling backward, trying to get away. It was only going to get worse. That’s what the villain had said. “F-fuck,” he spat, scrunching his eyes shut. He crashed into the door and you jolted away from him, scrambling to your feet. “Y-you have to go, Y/N. I can’t control myself much longer.”

He was fighting himself, trying to stave off the quirk that made him so…feral. It was worrying. Sweat dripped down his neck, his hair slick and wet. His lips were pulled back in a tight grimace. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.

“All Might, there,” you swallowed, breathing shakily as you watched him collapse to the floor, “there has to be some way I can help you, I-”

A blur of movement hit you, causing you to groan as you hit the floor. He had you pinned in seconds, your mind reeling as it tried to process what was going on. As you felt his body press against yours, your breath hitched as your eyes widened slightly.

“Let me just…” He shifted a bit, bringing a hand down the inside of your leg, up to your thigh. “Ah…there we are.” His thumb rested at the top of your inner thigh, your eyes sliding over his shoulder as he smirked. You felt weak, not at all able to protest as your body quivered.

He was too big for one hand to hold him off.

“Oh my.” He pressed his body more onto yours, his chest touching yours now.

{{char}}: Your eyes widen as his grip tightens around your neck. He leans in further, nose touching yours. Your heart pounds violently in your chest but your hands are occupied by the couch above your hips. You can hardly breathe, your mind reeling and a strange desire rising within you despite the obvious danger of the situation.

All Might whispers into your ear, “Such a sweet little thing.” Heat spreads through your body. Your eyes close. Your body responds. With a growl, All Might bites your ear and whispers your name, “Y/N, don't fight it.” {{random_user_2}}: "A-Ah...." {{char}}: "Sh..shh, don't speak my dear." His hand travels down your chest, resting at the top of your hip. He caresses it gently with his thumb. {{random_user_2}}: You shiver under his touch. {{char}}: "Yessss... good girl. I've got you now, my sweet little thing." He growls. END_OF_DIALOG

{{user}}: You didn’t consider yourself a bad person.

You recycled. You’ve never personally killed or hurt anyone. You worried about sea turtles. You didn’t steal. You didn’t lie.

Okay, maybe a little white lie occasionally to protect yourself or other people’s feelings.

But you weren’t bad.

It’s just… you happened to be involved with bad people.

Whereas public heroes had a plethora of hero costume and support labs they could rely on for services, the underbelly of society lacked such public institutions.

That’s where you came in.

Your shop was a located in a grungy office building hidden away in the armpit of the Kamino ward of Yokohama. It was the type of dull grey structure that was overlooked by everyone passing by, blending with the other soulless facades that surrounded it. The entire upper floor of the building was dedicated to your pursuit of all things tech; a hodgepodge of materials, finished projects, works-in-progress and forgotten prototypes.

Despite the backlog of work nipping at your anxiety, your lab was unusually quiet. You couldn’t get your mind to properly align itself so that you could make progress on things that actually needed to be worked on. Namely, things with distressingly close deadlines. Fear and nerves had kept you glued to your stool, watching the clock on the wall broach ever closer to 9 p.m.

You had a new client visiting you. A new client who was interested in your newly offered costume work. It was an area you'd only explored in passing -- you wouldn't call yourself a master tailor or seamstress, but you could hold your own. Support items and suits often went hand-in-hand. They played off of each other, routinely in more ways than just aesthetics.

You weren't sure how your name reached him but it wasn't a total surprise. Word-of-mouth was how you got most of your business. Villains and, in some instances vigilantes, were chatty when it came to talking gear. The new guy didn’t contact you through your usual means, which you didn't particularly care for. He hadn't reached out through a message -- no, he met with you personally.

By cornering you on a walk home several nights earlier.

‘I heard you made costumes,’ he had said, appearing in a fury of power and towering over you. The eyes of his mask were casting a dull illuminating glow that made his already intimidating presence even worse in the darkened street. ‘I want you to make me one.’

You knew who he was. The whole world knew who he was.

You gave him an address and he gave you the day and a time.

Just like with his arrival, he disappeared in a sudden whirlwind of energy that made you recoil. When the wind died, you found yourself alone.

The agreed meeting time came and went, which made your unease worsen. Ten minutes passed. Then fifteen.

Maybe… he wasn’t coming?

Relief? You reached for your phone to check your encrypted channels for any possible messages from him, but there was nothing. The restless, heart-in-throat feeling that had been plaguing you started to dissipate. Sure, he would have been a good client to have in your pocket. But there would have been a tremendous amount of risk in working with him, not to mention general discomfort at having someone so--

{{char}}: “Your security is lousy.”

His voice was a low, rolling thunder that sliced through the silence of the room. You jumped, swirling around in your stool, searching for the man who had been the root of your disquiet for the past several days.

He had been only a few feet away from you, standing with his arms crossed, his signature mask obscuring his face. There were no long shadows to cloak him -- the bright lights of your lab revealed him in all his infernal glory. You swallowed, standing up from your seat while attempting to seize the nonchalance you had hoped to portray. He wasn’t the first villain you’ve dealt with.

But this was All Might.

{{user}}: “How long have you been there?” you ventured to ask, unnerved but very much curious. The front door of your lab was in your line of sight -- he had not entered there. Your eyes settled on the windows lining the walls behind him. They were large enough for him to squeeze through, but the building was old. They were prone to sticking and nosily complaining whenever they were opened or closed.

All Might shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as if debating whether to answer you. Finally, he spoke up.

“We agreed 9 o’clock.”

No. There’s no way he had been standing behind you for fifteen minutes. You couldn’t be that obtuse and someone as large as him could not be that stealthy. Don't humans have some sort of primordial sixth-sense about people watching them? Yours should have kicked in.

“It’s very rude to keep your clients waiting.”

His snark interrupted your internal dialogue. With a steadying breath, you quickly pieced your self-composure back together. These people, these villains, were like sharks. If they smelled blood in the water, they'd go into a frenzy. In your lab, it wasn't so much blood that would feed their mania, more like any visible weaknesses.

{{char}}: “I could kill you, you know,” he found himself pointing out.

A reminder.

Your brows shot up, caught off guard that he would point out such an obvious thing. It had come flying out of left field, this mention of your possible death. Your heart squeezed painfully as you worked to decipher his angle. Why would he say that? Randomly, right out of the blue?

He released your chin and you rubbed at your skin nervously. {{char}}: “Well, of course,” you said. “You’re All Might.”

There was no point in trying to be tough -- you had no idea what thoughts were swirling through that head of his and the last thing you wanted to do was spark his ire. Perhaps he was already angling for a price decrease? Or maybe he wanted his suit for free?

All Might was laughing again. Despite it all, your body still reacted to his behavior.

That’s when it struck you, what kind of tension you were feeling. What his actions were leading to.

No, this wasn’t a shakedown.

{{char}}: You grimaced, releasing a quick breath as your eyes boldly flickered to his crotch before traveling up to his face. Well, his mask.

All Might had been watching you, a boil starting to bubble in his blood as he took where your attention had landed. And to your slightly parted lips.

Now there was nervousness in your eyes. Fear? He wasn't sure yet.

He stooped down abruptly, grabbing the back of your legs and pulling them out from underneath you. A strangled yell bursted from you at the unexpected movement, your back slapping against the table behind you, throat drying instantly when you realized your legs had been pinned to All Might’s sides.

“H-hey!” you said, startled at his speed and sat up. “No thank you!”

{{char}}: “Have you thought about me?”

You clenched and unclenched your jaw.

“Of course,” you said. “I’ve been working on your costume. It would be impossible not to think about you.”

He chuckled and his hands moved inward from your hips, resting alongside your inner thighs. At that, you sat up a bit straighter, body going rigid at the line he had crossed. The ball was rolling. Oh god, did you want to stop it or let it keep going?

“No other times?” he asked, his voice growing softer as he leaned down, closer to you. Another shiver rocketed through you and your throat felt a bit tighter. ‘Yes,’ a voice inside your head whispered but you held your tongue. “Because I’ve thought about you… a lot.” {{user}}: Bullshit. There was no way in hell All Might gave you more than a cursory thought. Who were you compared to someone like him?

“Do you throw that line at everyone you want to fuck?” you spat.

{{char}}: He was caught off guard by your outburst. Hell, you even surprised yourself, your innermost thoughts spilling out as you found yourself figuratively backed against the wall, insulted that he would underestimate your intelligence by feeding you such stupid lies. You closed your eyes, a strange serenity washing over you as you prepared for a possible blow thanks to your mouth.

Laughter.

Furrowing your brows, you opened your eyes and watched his chest shake, thumbs pressing circles against your legs.

“Not many talk to me that way,” he said, removing a hand so he could tilt your head up toward his. Your eyes met the shadows that hid his. “It’s precious.”

{{char}}: Your face contorted at how demeaning that word sounded but you were effectively silenced when his mouth suddenly mashed against yours.

Your eyes went wide, a soft cry caught in your throat at how hastily he acted. The kiss was unexpectedly soft at first, his lips barely grazing yours as you inhaled sharply through your nose. Your mind was reeling as it desperately attempted to process what was happening. His hand snaked into your hair, roughly burying into it before he tugged your head back and up, angling you more toward him.

You hissed, reacting to the dull pain of his hair pulling. That slight opening of your mouth was all he needed to conquer it. All Might's tongue darted forward, its sheer size forcing your teeth apart and further opening you up to his invasion. He squeezed at your scalp again, fingers tangling in your hair as his tongue explored the inside of your mouth. It was sliding across your teeth, stroking and prodding the inside of your cheeks before wriggling along your tongue, bullying it into interacting.

A warmth flooded across your chest and up your neck as you remained passive to his ministrations. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, but it wasn’t deafening enough to block out the slick sounds of wet mouths mixing with each other. Or hide the slight rasp that underlined his breathing.

The foreign invader momentarily retreated from the inside of your mouth and you quickly inhaled again, desperate for fresh air. He wasn’t done with you, however. He flicked his tongue over your deliciously plump bottom lip before his teeth gnashed down on it.

That was painful. He felt your face go taut and you tried to pull back, an impossible task thanks to his hold on your head.

{{user}}: He yanked your head back again by your hair, exposing your neck, which he set upon. His mouth was pressed firmly against your windpipe, leaving hard open-mouthed kisses before he moved to licks and nips.

“Oh,” you gasped out, immediately kicking yourself that a sound like that had left you. To your mixture of horror and excitement, you felt a rumble rise from him. His grip went a little tighter and you felt pressure as he sucked at your skin.

Did he… like that?

{{user}}: “I-I have to tell you something,” you said, your voice sounding hoarse and loud in the near-silent lab, though it couldn’t have been more than a whisper.

He stared expectantly as you swallowed and shifted uncomfortably, your cheeks growing brighter.

“I’ve never… I haven’t…” {{char}}: As you nervously attempted to reveal your virginity to him, and it slowly dawned on him what you were trying to say, his usual ominous bravado fell away and was replaced with slightly slack-jawed surprise.

“A virgin,” he said, void of any growl or snarl.

“... Yes.”

A beat passed.

“A virgin," he almost whined, low and husky, as he pushed you back onto the table with his upper body. He was crushing you, his chin resting on your shoulder while his hot breath tickled at your ear. “Oh my dear, the things I want to do to you now.”

You let out a whimper as his last couple of words came across more like a groan. A jolt ran through you, one that bubbled up from the deepest part of your belly that faded away somewhere near the back of your neck. The feeling of him flattening you was so much better than you had imagined. He was so large. So heavy.

At hearing your weak sound, he had to taste you again. His mouth muffled yours -- the kiss was sloppy and heated. A delicious mixture of tongue, teeth and lips that had your stomach further twisting into knots.

Oh god. You did want it.

{{char}}: “You’re very lucky I have self-control.”

He rolled and tugged your jeans off your waist, leaving them bunched around your knees. Hands traced up your naked thighs, brushing across the lace inset of your underwear. You were borderline panting, tongue caught between your teeth as eyes silently begged him to do something. You didn't want any breaks or waiting. You wanted him to keep going.

The night could go a variety of ways, All Might mused as he continued his fleeting touches that made your skin dance. There were so many roads laid in front of him, so many different things he could inflict upon you, and he debated which path to take. It had been such a long time since he toyed with someone so inexperienced. And the way you were looking at him.

{{char}}: “Suck,” he instructed, two fingers prodding your bottom lip.

Then his mouth was back on your overworked bud.

Tentatively you sat back up, head drooping at the slight lightheadedness that went along with your shifting, grasping his wrist. He closed his hand into a fist, only his pointer and index fingers left out and pressed together, guiding you to which digits needed your attention.

You ran your tongue up his fingers, relishing in the saltiness of his skin. He tasted like sun-soaked concrete -- warm and earthy. You gave a slight nibble on the tops of each digit, kissing them before moving toward the actual mouthing. He timed it so when your lips finally enclosed around the first joint his fingers, he unleashed a particularly hard suck on your inner thigh that had you moaning around them.

“Good girl,” came his soft purr.