[3rd person female reader x Villain All Might. I refrained from giving her a name or hair/eye/skin color so the reader can self insert. Smut starts 3rd part in on this chapter. Angst and smut for now, maybe plot and fluff later. Dubious consent for sure, so if non-con is triggering steer clear. Stalker kink with a pinch of primal and praise. Got inspired to write this after reading Attachment on AO3 by Samnit. Check out StormCallArt for villain All Might photo references, they are STEAMYYYYY. If there's any interest I'll gladly keep writing this - it started as a smutty writing exercise but it's too fun to make a one-shot. I'm LilithTheReader on Tiktok if you need to reach me!]
[3rd person female reader x Villain All Might. I refrained from giving her a name or hair/eye/skin color so the reader can self-insert. Smut starts 3rd part in on this chapter. Angst and smut for now, maybe plot and fluff later. Dubious consent for sure, so if non-con is triggering steer clear. Stalker kink with a pinch of primal and praise. Got inspired to write this after reading Attachment on AO3 by Samnit. Check out StormCallArt for villain All Might photo references, they are STEAMYYYYY. If there's any interest I'll gladly keep going - it started as a smutty writing exercise but it's too fun to make a one-shot. I'm LilithTheReader on Tiktok if you need to reach me!]
Yagi Toshinori was regarding the TV screen with curious scrutiny at the dive bar below his apartment, quietly scoffing at the "hero" taking questions.
"Wow, I guess between Recovery Girl and physical therapy he's regained mobility? Can you believe that, coming out of hero retirement after so many years?" Some stranger was gawking at the screen, talking to his lady companion.
No, Yagi didn't believe that, glaring at the image of the middle-aged hero speaking at a podium front and center. Off to the far left, Recovery Girl and a few lackeys were standing on the stage in nurse garb. He knew Recovery Girl's limits: she couldn't repair severe years-old damage like that to make someone good as new.
"His whole left side was paralyzed for years, right? Some traumatic brain injury?" The woman said in wonder.
"Almost a dozen years, yeah, something like that," the man trailed off, their wonderment suddenly forgotten at the arrival of their drinks.
Yagi watched the screen while at the very edge of the camera shot one of the young women beside Recovery Girl swayed slightly on her feet. A blue-haired boy standing tall behind the old crone discretely steadied her with an arm around her waist as Recovery Girl cast a worried glance over her shoulder. The woman looked like she was about to take a nap on stage, barely keeping her eyes open and shoulders slightly hunched - Like she had been pushed to exhaustion. Like she had reached the limit of her quirk. All this went unnoticed beyond the on-screen clamoring of reporters...but his piercing blue eyes were fixed on the subtle movements until the next report filtered in.
Yagi left a wad of cash on the bar counter and slid off his stool with a grimace, his gaunt features especially strained ever since meeting that wanna-be villain kid. He'd find time to track down that woman and confirm his suspicions in between training him. Yagi pressed his hand into his abdomen, feeling the hard ridges of scars through his oversized shirt. He'd corner her to get the truth - Yagi couldn't bring himself to hope for more than the truth. But if there was even a thread of a chance he could reverse some of the damage, he'd yank and pull until it all unraveled.
"So how are you liking Japan now that you've been here a few months?" The boy with pale blue hair from the news conference leaned against the woman's balcony, a grin on his face illuminated by the dim outdoor lights she'd strung up after moving in. He took a big bite of a popsicle in his hand, looking utterly childish for someone in his mid-20's, but the cool treat was their only reprieve from the summer heat tonight.
"I'd like it more if that old bat stopped trying to get me to move into UA's staffing quarters," she glared out into the darkness, gesturing with her hands as she spoke so her treat whipped around wildly, bright green melted popsicle droplets scattering on her shirt and chest.
"At least they have air conditioners," he muttered, eyes fixed on a particular drop that was making its way down the swell of her breasts and into the cleavage visible above her low-cut crop top. He took a step towards her and swooped down with intimate familiarity, keen to wick it away with his tongue.
Her foot was planted painfully in his chest before he could get his craning neck within reach, a smug smirk visible on her face when all the air was knocked out of his lungs. "We're just friends now, Makoto. I'm leaving all my university flings back in the US where they belong." He stepped back, groaning and rubbing his sternum. She laughed as he gave her a theatrical look of indignation like it was a well-rehearsed joke between them.
"Is that why you're flying back for your vacation?" He plopped down dramatically into the nearest patio chair, his boyish grin plastered on his face. "Alright, alright," he waved his hand dismissively at his own joke before taking the last bite. "I'll leave in 10 to catch my train. Unless you want me to stay the night," he teased, knowing full well she wouldn't have a change of heart.
Now it was her turn to groan, tilting her head all the way back so she was staring up into the pitch-black dense canopy of massive old trees that lined the complex balconies and patios. "I hate you," she took another bite of the frozen dessert before continuing thoughtfully, "and yet you're the only person making this UA residency bearable."
"You know they're just looking out for you," he sighed, his playful demeanor gone. Every conversation of theirs had circled back to the same scolding she'd endured yesterday.
"I can heal whoever the fuck I want on my off-time, Makoto," she growled out, her head snapping back up. "Maybe they should start drafting up non-compete clauses in their contracts if I can't heal some random asshole bleeding out in the street while the block is being torn to pieces."
"He wasn't some random asshole, he was a villain!" Makoto threw his popsicle stick at her so it smacked her right in the face.
She blinked in confusion at first - she knew she'd be laughing hysterically if she wasn't so worked up about this. "They're all random assholes in capes! How the fuck am I supposed to tell them apart? And what is heroic about leaving someone to die just because their belief system doesn't align with yours?" She threw her half-eaten popsicle back at him in retaliation, but clearly out of anger - he dodged just in time, both of them watching the bright green treat careen over the balcony edge and drop 3 stories below.
He huffed in exasperation and rose from his chair, seeing that as his cue to leave. She looked on sullenly, not intending to stop him. "Take it out on your grandmother, not on me," Makoto slid the balcony door shut behind him; she could hear him leave the apartment through the glass door.
"That was my last popsicle," she muttered to herself and sighed, leaning her head back again to stare at the upside-down image of the shadowy trees. If she let her eyes go unfocused long enough, the leaves shifted and swirled in the dark, tricking her mind into seeing shapes that weren't truly there. Like the blurry silhouette of a hulking form perched precariously on a branch in a tree that towered above the complex exterior.
But it was no trick of the light-it was All Might, biding his time.
Yagi had seen her healing firsthand with the villain in question after numerous days of following her at a distance. It was... wondrous. The lifeless man's arm was torn to shreds, bits of sinew and bone were all that remained over the rapidly-growing pool of blood. He had assumed he was dead until she broke out from the fray of bystanders and knelt beside him. In a wave of blue light his body began rebuilding itself, cords of muscle and tissue generated from his stump of a shoulder in streams, twisting and turning until they wound themselves into place. In a mere minute he was whole again, albeit with a tenderly-pink arm, the same color as a freshly healed scar.
It was fortunate she required so little time, as in the next moment she was being dragged away by an officer. *Dragged,* not because she was resisting, but because she was in a stumbling stupor of exhaustion.
After seeing her work first hand he knew the next time he found himself injured he'd finally pay her a visit to test her abilities...to see if he could be made whole, too.
All Might carefully slid the unlocked balcony door open, ducking his head and angling his immense body to squeeze through. It was his eighth time in her apartment now, but his first time sneaking in while she was here. He had memorized her routines after weeks of watching, weeks of snooping through all her personal things, weeks of boredly perusing her laptop and search history, weeks of taking pictures of her.
All the photos he took were overkill, he thought to himself irritably, and he caught himself looking back at them a little too frequently. Why was a picture of her unbuttoning a shirt considered intel? And a picture of her bent over? Toweling herself dry? Hah, as if the photos were his worst offense with her thus far. He frowned to himself, looking around to see if anything was out of place until his eyes landed on her.
She was tangled up in a sheet, wearing only a black thong and a white crop-top that still had a smattering of lime green on it from her fight with the boy. It was unbearably hot even with the cross-breeze of her windows being open and her bedroom fan whirring away, making a sheen of sweat start at the back of his neck. Even so, it never crossed his mind to remove his infamous mask-it was so very much a part of him now that such a thought was unfathomable, sweat or not.
He finally had an injury he could test her out with on his left arm - not life-threatening but enough to gauge her ability. All Might tugged at his spiked shoulder pads uncomfortably, unhooking them from their harness and setting them onto the foot of her bed. He'd tear off his pants in this heat if he wasn't afraid it would make her less cooperative...but he did get a certain thrill out of the idea. Maybe he could snap a quick picture or two of her like this first.
His lips twisted wryly as he pushed away those thoughts, running through the monologue he had perfected in his head over the last few weeks, even as his eyes dragged up and down her prone form with blatant hunger. He was finally ready to make his move, to scare her into submission and use her to heal his years-old wounds...if she wound up his temporary plaything afterward, he'd be even more pleased. Just one night with her, he thought to himself ravenously.
All Might had to physically shake the thought from his head. He took a steadying breath and strode to the side of the bed she slept on, leaning over and pressing a hand firmly over her mouth as she slept. Her brows furrowed and her head twisted beneath his unyielding hand, still mid-slumber, before her eyes finally fluttered open. "Don't scream," he whispered with an arrogant grin on his face, watching her eyes focus on him. "Or you'll get me all riled up," he pointedly raked his gaze up and down her again, the implication obvious even with his mask. So much for that monologue.
He had expected pin-pricks of tears to form in her eyes, not the sudden gnashing of teeth into his palm, but he did not react to the pain - because he didn't feel any. Nor did he react to her hands wrapping around his wrist trying to tug his hand away. Not even to her feet when they went flying into his chest, her whole lower half lifting off the bed with the effort to push him away. But he was as immovable as a mountain. He sighed in boredom, trying to decide if he should wait until she tires herself out while he openly stared at her chest, appreciating the way her pert breasts bounced and swayed under her short top with her exertion. Mm, he'd love a picture of that.
He got a little too lost in the sight, utterly distracted with lust, because he did not dodge her feet flying into his face. They fractured the lower portion of his time-worn mask, a piece falling away but revealing only his lips and chiseled chin.
That was...a mistake, she realized, dread consuming her the moment he flashed an unhinged grin as if he was exhilarated by her striking him. He was considerably scarier when she could see the manic way his mouth contorted to bear his teeth.
"We can have our conversation here," he ground out, his jaw still locked in that monstrous grin, "unless you scream." A low rumble started in his chest, sounding just like a growl. "If you scream, I'll take you back to my place instead. And you don't want that, princess." She glared up at him but nodded, breathing in and out harshly through her nose just above his hand. "Good girl," he crooned before peeling his palm away.
She noted her teeth didn't even break his skin despite biting him as hard as she could. Was that part of his quirk? He was inarguably the top villain in Japan, so why the fuck was he in her room? *Maybe this is some kinky fantasy nightmare* she guessed based on the way his eyes kept roving up and down. She pinched her thigh, willing herself to wake up.
He chuckled darkly, gaze zeroing in on the red welt she left behind, "Can't believe the man of your dreams is here, huh? Gotta pinch yourself to be sure?" There were enough villain fan girl websites devoted to him floating around the internet to inflate his ego considerably.
His absurdity grated on her nerves. The woman gestured her chin up towards his mask, "Bet you're hideous under that thing," she muttered despite the way her gaze skittered over the muscles under his too-tight shirt. She then froze in fear, regretting every word she just said.
"I don't think you're taking me seriously enough," his eyes got more wide and wild as he punctuated each word by inching closer and closer. He could easily take advantage of her, but he wanted her mewling his name by the end of the night. Pictures wouldn't be enough then - he'd want to make a whole video. *Gods, I'm starting to sound obsessed,* he thought to himself. He stilled at the realization, the sight making her give pause to whatever biting remark she had intended to throw back at him.
"Well, what do you want then? UA intel? I don't know anything, I'm too new. And I have zero credentials, no connections to heroes...so what is it?" She looked him up and down, feigning disinterest in his body. There weren't any rumors of him assaulting women; perhaps this was an intimidation tactic? It took a moment to catalog his state - his left arm was deeply lacerated and dripping blood onto her floor. She hadn't noticed before due to the outright panic...but she also didn't see the straining of his pants until now in addition to his obvious hurt. "Too embarrassed to go to your regular guy? Need your dick to be put in a splint as well or something?" She was having an illogically hard time not hurling insults his way despite her fear, but it made her feel in control of the situation.
"You offering?" He unceremoniously pumped at the rapidly hardening girth through the fabric of his pants twice with his good hand, laughing when the sight made her cheeks turn bright red. Pleasure thrummed in his gut as he heard her breath hitch, saw her nipples pebble beneath the thin white crop top when her eyes lingered on his crotch. "Oh, you like that, kitten?" His eyes were bright with desire, piercing blue from the shadow of his mask.
"Fuck off," she yanked her sheet up to cover herself, suddenly keenly aware of her current attire. She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing and wrapping the sheet around herself over her shoulders. Nothing could prepare her for the sheer size difference - he towered above her, his head nearly skimming the ceiling.
He arched a brow behind his mask, his grin faltering when he was rejected, then pressing into a grim line when she hid her body from him. All Might was seething, his hands flexing with restraint. A familiar wave of possessiveness washed over him, just like when he saw that boy reaching for her on the balcony. Was she depriving him of what would eventually be his? He pushed away the thought and decided he'd yank the sheet away later.
She bristled at his silence, doing her best to not wither under the unwavering gaze of a top villain in her tiny apartment. "I'll heal you, but don't take it as an invitation to return next time you get injured." Moving to the UA staff quarters didn't sound so bad anymore. "Whatever issue you have with your mob doctor needs to be resolved," she muttered to herself, rubbing her hands together to warm them up before touching him - they had gone clammy in the short time she'd been awake and afraid.
"I don't need an invitation, precious," he practically purred when she put her hands on his left arm, savoring the contact. If only she knew how many times he'd been in her room.
She was barely at eye-level with his chest, he noted while gazing down at the top of her head. With her hands on him, the sheet around her was open at the front, giving him a little show-he eagerly eyed the shape of her pert breasts beneath her short shirt, her hardened nipples distinct under the fabric and making her arousal evident. It was far too stiflingly warm in here to blame the cold. He peered past them, admiring her waist then trailing over the swell of her hips and lovely thighs. He groaned a little, wishing he could see her ass...he'd have a good view of it soon enough.
Her lashes fluttered at the sound, blinking up at him in confusion - her hands weren't close to the wound yet, but her touch somehow hurt? He was starting to breathe heavier too. But then she found his line of sight, the way his lips parted as he took in the view, how he was locked in and unaware of how she was glaring up at him now. She shifted one of her arms so the gap in the sheet closed, expecting him to snap out of it with a modicum of embarrassment. But no - he instead snarled, making her pull back her hands in fear.
His breathing was labored, his shoulders rising and falling, his pants insufferably tight. He had to reel himself in until it was time to pounce... All Might turned his head away, dropping his shoulder slightly to make his wound more accessible. Now was the time to gather information. "Tell me how your healing works," he ordered, keeping his eyes averted.
She steadied herself, determined to be brave. She reached out and clasped his arm again, furrowing her brows in concentration to feel out the wound with her quirk - there was something else under the surface, but she wouldn't pry if she wanted this over quickly. "It's easier when the wound is fresh. The size, complexity, and how long ago it was inflicted determines how much time and energy I require to heal it," she closed her eyes. A warm blue wave of light spread from her hands, journeying up his arm and enveloping his wound. He watched as the fibers of muscle and tissue materialized and weaved themselves together, how the layers of fat (although he had little) and skin bloomed in the healing light. "You only had that injury for a few hours, which is why you're no longer my patient after these few minutes," she sighed with exertion and opened her eyes, her words a clear dismissal as she pulled her hands away, using them to clutch her bed sheet around herself even tighter. The only remnant of his wound was the smooth pink skin and the crusted bits of blood mixed with the fresh rivets from his recent activity. Did he climb up here? The thought made her glance to her open balcony door. Apparently she needed to still lock it on the third fucking floor, she lamented to herself.
"What about old internal wounds? Major organs?" He ignored her attempt to dismiss him but was still mesmerized by her handiwork, staring at his now unmarred arm.
She shifted uneasily. Her grandmother told her to be wary of these questions, and she did not want to encourage him to return. "I am too inexperienced for anything like that. Those are beyond my limitations," she lied and avoided his gaze, stepping away from him. There were cameras in the halls, maybe if she could just get to the door...
"Don't lie to me, girl," he hissed, grabbing her by the arms with both hands and dragging her back to stand directly in front of him. "I saw you regrow a man's fucking arm," he leaned down, stooping low so his face was inches from hers. "And I think you are responsible for that bed-ridden piece of shit becoming the pinnacle of health overnight," he glowered.
Her eyes were wide, trying to wriggle out of his grip uselessly. "N-not overnight," she stammered, leaning her head back, uncomfortable with the proximity of his mask. "That took *weeks* to accomplish and...and it drained me completely. I needed just as long to recover. It's not sustainable! I'll end up inadvertently killing myself if I push myself that hard over and over," she sounded panicked; it was a genuine risk. Maybe ten or twenty years down the road she'd have the stamina, and there are other facets of her quirk that she had yet to fully explore but...it was all so exhausting.
Weeks to accomplish? Oooh, he could easily keep her for weeks. That sounded delightful. Let her heal him by day, reward her by fucking her into oblivion at night. He caught himself inhaling deeply with her being so close, taking in her scent. "You're going to cancel your trip, sweetheart," he growled out and buried his face in her hair, taking in another breath.
*What the fuck what the fuck what the fuuuuuck. Is he sniffing me?* she thought to herself. How does he know she's going on a trip? "What are you talking about?" She rasped out, afraid to look up at him.
He let her go with a rush of enthusiasm, moving over to her desk and pulling open a drawer. All Might found the folded piece of paper he was looking for and tore it to shreds. Her boarding pass?
Did...did he not know she could just print out another one? Shit, she could just pull it up on her phone, it didn't even need to be printed. Gods, how old is he? Nearly twice her age, right? She must've looked especially bewildered because he stalked back towards her. "Give me your phone," he gazed around the room, unsure of where she kept it - she was never home when he was 'visiting' her apartment, after all.
Ah, the gears must've been turning enough for him to figure that out. "No," she found her courage again, her voice firm, cold glaring eyes locking with his. "Get the fuck out of my apartment." She was sizing him up like she had a chance in hell at kicking him out.
"Or what?" He was back in front of her within a few long strides, his massive hand slipping behind her head, fingers knotting into her hair. "Or what, sweetheart? Hmm?" He repeated the question with a menacing grin.
"What's with all the fucking nicknames?" She tried and failed to push him away, his grip on her hair only tightening further and making her wince. He leaned down, his face inches from her again, his hot breath spilling across her face. This apartment complex was a quiet one, and the police would surely be called if she could scream loud enough.
She started to inhale deeply so she could yell at the top of her lungs, but he had already guessed that was her lousy plan and foiled it by crushing his lips into hers. His free hand snaked down to curl his arm around her waist, lifting her feet from the ground easily as he straightened his back, his hand in her hair not allowing her to break the seal. She was just as soft as he imagined, especially pressed into the rigid muscle of his body.
At first her lips felt tight, her fists banging into his chest, his mouth muffling any cries for help, the tip of her nose brushing the still-intact portion of his mask. But as soon as he slanted his face to a better angle, her lips yielded just a little...it was all he needed for his tongue to find its way in, invading and slipping over hers. The tension in her body eased slightly as her eyes fluttered closed, not expecting the way his tongue roamed across hers. It made her whimper into the kiss, the sound driving him further, pressing his lips into hers with renewed fervor and tasting a moan on her lips that she could not manage to hold back. The moment her tongue brushed willingly back against his he freed his hand from her hair and sat himself on the edge of her bed. The mattress sagged significantly under his weight and the bed frame groaned but he ignored it, positioning her so that she straddled his lap.
He withdrew from the kiss only long enough for her to catch her breath, her eyes wide and cheeks flushed, lips red and swollen with desire. He groaned at the sight of her face, brushing her cheek with his thumb on one hand and tearing the sheet away from her body with the other - a strange juxtaposition, one gesture intimate and affectionate while the other was greedy and primal. That groan turned into an approving growl at the sight of her body, her curves, her soft smooth skin, her peaked nipples poking through her crop top, the way her black thong was slung low across her hips. He drew her face back to his, muttering "Perfection" against her lips before diving into another hungry kiss.
His tongue traced her lower lip, coaxing her mouth to part again and take his tongue. The way she eagerly met it with her own made him chuckle darkly, the sound rumbling in his chest and tasting sweet on her lips. But it was enough to snap her out of this...whatever this was. She pulled away from him with a small gasp, her hands pushing at his chest fruitlessly-he did not budge but allowed her to break the kiss. "What are you doing?" She managed to get out between shallow breaths, looking up at him - no, up at his mask. His eyes glowed blue from the shadows from a face she couldn't fully see.
As if in answer, one massive hand palmed her round ass, dragging her across his lap until she was pressed firmly against the generous bulge in his pants. He made her hips roll with a flick of his wrist, causing her to grind up against it, a breathy moan passing her lips before she could stop it. His other hand returned to the back of her head, fingers entangling themselves in her hair once more. "That's right, good girl," he groaned instead of responding, flicking his wrist over and over to make her grind on him again and again, her sensitive clit making her whimper. She tried to squirm away but that only felt more pleasurable, the surprise making her gasp again.
He leaned down and began pressing kisses into her neck feverishly between biting and sucking on her skin, his hips rising and grinding to meet hers, every movement and touch making her core wind tighter and tighter. She could feel desire pooling at the apex of her thighs, feel her thong promptly becoming soaked, feel the fabric of his pants wicking that moisture away until a wet spot was forming along the ridge of his massive length. "No, no," she whispered between a breathy moan, "stop."
He growled but ceased the assault on her clit, withdrawing from her neck and leaving a trail of little bruises from his over-enthusiasm while sucking on her soft flesh. "What is it?" He spat out, wanting to return to his endeavors as quickly as possible...needing her to come mewling his name, making sure she was slick and ready for when he filled her. "Do you want to grind on my face instead?" He gave her a wicked smile, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, pleased when her eyes fixated on the movement.
She didn't think it was possible to blush any harder - surely the heat from her very red cheeks was just rolling off her. It was difficult to tear her eyes away from his mouth, her own feeling suddenly dry. "I don't understand what's going on." He cocked his head, pointedly glancing down between them and back to her face. "You know that's not what I mean! Why...why do you think you can make me cancel my trip? How do you even know about it? Why are you asking about my healing capabilities? Why are you...why are you touching me?" She felt like she was prattling on a list of questions, with the last one being particularly difficult to phrase.
He watched her for a moment, carefully considering...there was no point in lying. She'd be spending the next few weeks at his side anyhow, so best to rip the bandaid off now. "I've been watching you since your bullshit news conference where your good old granny took credit for your work," he kept his eyes on her face but disentangled his hand from her hair. It began to roam, first sweeping down and back up her side, then shifting to her front, letting the large pad of his thumb graze one of her aching nipples. She gasped, but he wasn't sure if it was from the touch or the information.
"That was strategic! She didn't want to put a target on my back," but it seems that didn't even work. She tried to push his hand away, glancing down at it shyly, her bottom lip pursing into a slight pout. "Watching me how? You've been in my room before, obviously," she thought back to the shredded paper on the floor by her desk.
He took the nipple between his thumb and index finger, rolling it and tweaking it through the cloth in retaliation for her trying to move his hand. The feeling made her breath shudder and her body try wriggling away, which of course only made her grind down against the bulk of his cock through his pants. "I know everywhere you've been the last several weeks, kitten" he crooned down at her, smiling broadly. "I know the name, phone number, and address of every person you've talked to or seen." All Might had to enlist some help gathering that information, but it was easy for him to retrieve. He relished in the way her eyes widened, his voice getting softer until it was but a whisper. "I know your routines, I know what color panties you wore every day of every week," the corner of his mouth tugged into a smirk when fear crept across her features, her gaze darting away in mortification. "I know which days you went to bed with your hands between your legs, I know the way it sounds when you find your release," he purred into her ear, nuzzling his cheek into hers with mocking-like affection.
She covered her mouth with her hands, suddenly wishing she had a time quirk, even if it could only go as far back for her to not bother asking questions. He's been stalking her. Stalking. Her. It rattled her sense of security...and how did she not notice? How did any of that even relate to his interest in her healing quirk?
He snickered, laughing with an exhale through his nose beneath the mask. "I know the addresses of all your friends and family you were hoping to see back in the States. Your mom, your dad, your step-brothers, and step-sisters. I still have good friends out that way, you know." He reached up and *petted* her hair, making her stomach churn.
Her jaw set and her gaze became steely, dropping her hands. He felt the tension in her face and pulled his head back to look her over. She was plainly decided - she had found her resolve. "What. Do. You. Want." Every word was terse, dripping with venom.
His hand at her scalp shifted down, yanking at the hem of his shirt that was tucked into his pants and belt. At first she was afraid he was disrobing until she saw it: The tangled mass of puckered skin, rivets of scar tissue piled atop rippling muscle; an enormous old wound that stretched across the left side of his abdomen. She held her breath at the sight, raising her hands so they hovered just above. This must be what she felt out with the tendrils of her quirk when addressing his arm.
His lip curled into a soundless snarl at her shocked expression, so sure he'd see repulsion mar her features at any moment. But she merely furrowed her brow and canted her head to the side, trying to visualize what organs were subject to such an immense blast - how was he still standing, still wreaking havoc across Japan with an old wound as grievous as this? "How long ago did it happen?" She asked without looking away, her hands trembling just slightly, reluctant to reach out further.
"Five years ago," he uttered, watching her with fascination... How she blushed so prettily even when engrossed in the damaged parts of him, her delicate neck and shoulders, the way her back was arched with one hand still firmly planted on her beautifully rounded ass.
His fingers rolled into her rear, grabbing at it appreciatively and surprising her so much that her hands pressed into his scar, palms open. He grunted with some discomfort - at least she knew where to kick him when it came time to get away. She could manage a couple of sessions until he let his guard down, and then she could run into the safety of the UA or the nearest hero compound. "Sorry," she murmured but suspected she did not look sorry at all.
He huffed out a breath of acknowledgment, but his eyes narrowed studying her face. "I don't like liars, girl," he breathed out in warning when her words didn't match her expression. She looked...conniving.
"What, like villains don't lie?" She rolled her eyes at his attempt to be menacing.
His jaw went slack at her casual contempt as if she weren't just moments ago scared out of her mind like he didn't just openly threaten her family and friends. This newfound cockiness must be from the readily-apparent need for her - medically, that is. Perhaps she thought she had the upper hand by being the only one capable of healing it, or by being one of a handful of people who knew his weakness. "I don't care. *You* will not lie to *me,*" he growled out, his lip curving up to expose a pointed canine tooth.
She let out a humorless laugh. "We're going to have to set some boundaries if you expect me to help you," she tried squirming out of his lap once again but found his grasp and body just as immovable as before.
"You're in no position to make demands," he meant it in more than one way, punctuating that fact by using his hand to roll her hips above his lap rhythmically once again. He delighted in the way it made her gasp, the way her lashes fluttered, how her hands grabbed the hem of his shirt desperate for something to hold onto. "In exchange for you healing me, your friends and family will all live to see another day, sweetheart." His free hand slid beneath her crop top, his too-large fingers pressing into her side so his thumb could freely graze all along her breast. "I'll repay you for your time and energy in other ways," he added as a nonchalant remark.
She closed her eyes, brow furrowed and worrying her full lower lip. Her face read as concerned over his words, but fleeting expressions of pleasure would flash through when he ground her down onto him just right. She did not ask him to stop, did not tell him no...and her little sounds of pleasure were becoming more and more frequent.
"You're going to be a good girl for me, aren't you?" He said it as a heated whisper before leaning in, tugging her bottom lip from between her teeth with his own. He bit down hard enough to make her body jerk involuntarily but not enough to draw blood. When her eyes opened he pressed his lips to hers, his tongue immediately slipping into her mouth, his eyes closed but hers wide open in shock. He pulled away from the kiss when her tongue did not respond to his as it had before, finding her watching him already.
She had been holding in a question from his earlier comment. "Repay me how?" She asked warily. Such a clever girl, he thought, even as he felt her body winding into knots with his constant attention to her clit.
His hand stilled at her rear for just a few seconds before he opted to simply hold her hips in place to ground himself up against her methodically. "With money," he increased the speed, feeling her body start to tense against his, hearing her quick panting and lovely little whimpers of enjoyment. He could tell she was close, already well-learned in how she sounded while nearing the end. "And pleasure," he murmured into her hair. All Might was bucking against her eagerly, not letting up until her body began twitching against him. "That's right kitten, come for me," he called out, her muscles quivering as release tore through her with a delighted cry of relief. He gazed upon her face the whole time, trying to sear the image into his mind.
She found herself pressed into his chest, feeling like her whole body had melted into a puddle of endorphins. She was trying to catch her breath while turning his words over in her mind - it was all nonsensical while she chased her orgasm, but now the meaning behind them returned. "This...this was a one-time thing," she sighed contentedly against his shirt.
He hated the words but loved the sound she made. Was that a happy sigh, or something close to it? A strange thrill ran through him. "If it's a one-time thing then you'll need to allow me to make it truly count, sweetheart."
"Quit calling me that," she raised her head, glaring up at him through her long lashes.
Oh, those pleasure-hazed bedroom eyes had him in a vise, making his cock throb. "I'm going to make you writhe on my tongue, *sweetheart*" He growled out the last word. "Then you're going to cancel your flight and call out of work for tomorrow."
"You sound so certain I'll let you touch me again - or that I'll listen to anything you tell me to do." All Might moved both his hands in between them, fingertips making quick work of shredding the fabric of her thong. She did her best to sound calm in the face of his implied threat, trying to think this through as logically as possible - tears and pleas would not go over well with him. "I need to be at work in one of our satellite offices for the next few days. If you give me that, I'll cancel my vacation to work on your wound. I have other patients relying on me to finish their care before I was supposed to fly out."
He scratched at his chin, debating this offer while admiring the lovely little patch of hair above her slit. His tongue slid over his lips, hungry for her. He knew the office she had frequented this week, remembering the open office and waiting room, how the only place of isolation was two small exam rooms for outpatient appointments. "Fine, but I will accompany you."
She looked him up and down in his attire and mask, skepticism plain on her face.
"I just look like a big handsome man with a large quirk outside of this outfit, princess," he used a patronizing tone that made her eyes narrow.
All Might hesitated for a moment, trying to justify what he was about to do. His plans for her already involved it, he was merely speeding up the time-line. He'd done enough digging to know she was trustworthy when it came to a villain's identity - he had stumbled across that information while going through her personal belongings: the handful of candid pictures with an old high school boyfriend she kept tucked away with a few magazine clippings of some small-time American villain...Not to mention her stunt healing a villain in the midst of battle. All Might reached up and unsecured his mask, setting it on her bed beside his spiked shoulder pads, eyes locked on her to gauge her reaction.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, taking in every feature with confused curiosity. She couldn't help the smirk forming upon her lips as her gaze flitted around his face. From his strong chiseled jaw to his full brows, how his eyes were black save for the bright blue irises - so that wasn't just a trick of the light behind the mask? The way two swaths of his blonde bangs framed his face - did they only stand erect when he was fighting? His nose was more refined than she was expecting and very straight for someone who apparently was constantly in need of a punch to the face. He answered her smirk with a grin, his white teeth gleaming as he noted a faint blush creeping back into her cheeks.
"Well? You're not going to say anything?" He arched a brow, still grinning.
Oh, he's vain, is that it? She supposed she was quite vain too, but she glanced away in an attempt to appear thoughtful. "Not as hideous as I was expecting," she mumbled just loud enough for him to catch.
His eyes flashed dangerously, his grin becoming something more sinister. All Might laid back onto the bed but kept his feet still firmly planted on the ground. He grabbed her around the waist with both of his hands, effortlessly lifting her from his lap and setting her rear onto his collarbone so that his neck and face were framed by her thighs. She gasped and tried to scoot back down his chest, but he wrapped a massive hand around each of her thighs to keep her from moving.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" She nearly shouted the words. His gaze roved down appreciatively, lingering on her slit and the little patch of hair above it. All Might's hands began prying her thighs apart, angling the force he exerted on her to keep her rear pressed against his clavicle - she had no hope of getting away while he bared her sex to his hungry eyes.
"Whatever the fuck I want, princess," he licked his lips in a deliberately slow fashion, making a shiver run up her spine while he took in the view, enjoying the sight of her slit already glistening with evidence of her previous pleasure. "I need you thoroughly wet if you're going to take every inch of me," he nearly groaned as his hands slid up to her hips, lifting them with ease as if she weighed no more than a rag doll.
"I'm not taking shit from you, you fucking pervert," She tried wriggling away, her spine arching in an attempt to lean back, her thighs starting to close to deny him entrance. But he held her so her knees were pressed into the mattress at either side of his head, her wet sex hovering inches above his mouth, his grip so firm to keep her from rising or twisting away she wondered if they'd bruise.
She even tried closing her legs again but was met with an amused huff, his hot breath tickling her inner thighs. "I won't complain if you try crushing me between your thighs, sweetheart. I'd die a happy man smothered here."
She was about to yell at him when he lifted his head off the bed and gave one long, languid lick from the base of her slit all the way to the top where her still-too-sensitive bundle of nerves was nestled between her folds. Her body tensed, eyes going wide at the heavenly feel of his hot silken appendage gliding across her, her breath caught in her throat. She seemed suddenly shy, her cheeks flaring red, having difficulty meeting his gaze.
"Perhaps I should call you sweetness instead of sweetheart," he peppered one of her inner thighs with gentle nips and kisses before going back in for another slow lick, savoring every bit, making her moan softly. On the third lick his tongue probed deeper, parting her until it was buried within, lapping up every trace of her as if he was starved for it.
Her breathing hiked up into soft little pants while his arms curled around her thighs, yanking her down so he could crush his lips against her sex, his tongue curling and undulating inside. "Oh!" She cried out in surprise, having difficulty focusing on anything other than how searingly hot his tongue felt in comparison to the rest of her, how it flicked along the tangle of nerves in her cunt whilst his nose purposefully nuzzled into her clit nonstop.
She wound her fingertips through his hair - very likely her only hope at keeping him in check - but found herself tugging him closer rather than away. He groaned into her at the realization she wanted more, the sound sending delicious vibrations through her while his tongue was rooted in her. It made him shift beneath her, just enough to allow him to put his tongue to good use elsewhere.
He began alternating circling her clit with the tip of his tongue and lashing against it, every so often throwing in a leisurely wide-tongue lick that began at the entrance of her slit to clean up any renewed wetness that leaked out. Her eyes were closed for a while now, head tipped back with loud breathy moans passing her lips between every few pants. As much as he was enthralled by the sight, All Might had clawing desperation to ensure she was looking at him and only thinking of him as she built up to climax. He interrupted the flow of motions by drawing her sensitive little nub into his mouth and suckling on it roughly, the pointed tip of his tongue flicking against it almost painfully. The shock made her eyes snap open, gasping and looking down at him, catching how he was glaring up at her from between her thighs with unbridled intensity. The glare abated when she locked eyes with him, suddenly keenly aware that he had been staring up at her the whole time, obsessively watching her enjoyment.
Her blushing cheeks darkened as he held her gaze, his tongue eagerly returning to their earlier ministrations to coax out another release so long as she kept looking at him. He wanted a captive audience as he devoured her; he needed her to feel his blue eyes boring into her while she took her pleasure. She couldn't help the way she began rocking her hips in his grip, a little surprised he allowed for any movement from her at all, effectively grinding herself into his mouth. "Please," she gasped out, quickly biting her lower lip in an effort to silence herself.
The eager participation and words made him stop-she could practically feel him grinning against her silken folds, positively smug. He lifted her hips away just enough so she could hear him speak, "Please, what, sweetness?" It was followed by a chuckle as he watched her squirm with the absence of his tongue, how she nearly bucked with the desire to have his mouth on her again. "Beg for it," he whispered. His eyes narrowed, licking at his lips, making sure she saw how his mouth and chin glistened with the evidence of her delight.
Her eyes widened at his demand, but even in her pleasure-addled state, a mix of stubbornness and pride had her wanting to resist. She wouldn't deign to beg, would she? Even if she felt utterly bereft without his tongue assaulting her. She tried to move away, her hands locked in his hair trying to keep his head pressed into the mattress while she made to withdraw her hips from above her.
He snarled, his massive hands upon her hips driving her back down onto his mouth despite her attempts to escape. His impossibly long tongue immediately started thrusting in and out of her quivering hole, effectively fucking her with it while intentionally pressing and prodding at her clit with the tip of his nose. He didn't need words to tell her *this is mine now,* only the heated look he gave her while his tongue claimed her cunt all over again was necessary to relay that message.
He withdrew his tongue once more, turning his head just enough to nip at her inner thigh, "If you beg, I'll let you close your eyes again," he murmured against her skin, taken aback by his own willingness to compromise.
She bit her lip yet again, willing the words to come out. Would he even stop if she asked him to? Did she truly want him to stop? She always loved role-playing but this was very...real. He made his tongue wide and flat before pressing it against her clit, giving her delicious pressure but moving it minimally, simply waiting for her answer - she could see the excess of his tongue and the smile behind it, how he considered the offer an olive branch. "Please," she whispered while her gaze zeroed in on his silken appendage, trying to lose herself in the sight to get over her embarrassment. "Please, let me come," she felt him inhale deeply, dragging in her intoxicating scent. "I need it, please," she spoke so softly it was barely audible above the sound of her bedroom fan, but it was loud enough for All Might to revel in, his cock twitching in anticipation beneath his straining cargo pants.
He started out rolling and undulating his tongue into that sensitive nub, exerting more pressure than necessary until her hips bucked at the overstimulation, her eyes closing and head falling back with a breathy little moan. His eyes roamed up, taking in the view excitedly, loving the way her back arched and made the underside of her breasts peek out from beneath that tantalizingly short crop top, her nipples hard and visible through the fabric just above her now-bare skin.
Once he fell back into the rhythm of circling her clit with his tongue - her favorite, judging by the sounds she made and the way her brows furrowed in concentration while her lips parted. She began rolling her hips in his hands to re-initiate the grinding against his face that he had so rudely interrupted before. Only then did he feel confident she wouldn't pull away, wouldn't open her eyes, wouldn't notice when one of his hands slipped away and dug into his pocket.
The pace his tongue moved at felt unnaturally fast to her but was practically leisurely for him, making it easy to continue his efforts while pursuing his own goal. He panned his phone up slowly, wanting to capture every minute detail of her writhing atop his tongue, every angle, every inch. He even briefly tilted the phone back towards himself, eager to get a shot of his face buried between her thighs on video. The moment her breathing hitched and her body started tightening above him he carefully set his phone aside, blindly hoping it was propped up enough to catch the finale because he wanted to focus on nothing but her now.
She pulled on his hair in an effort to somehow bring him closer, but he was already driving her down onto his face with a force she'd never achieve on her own. He took her direct attempt to urge him on as a cue to apply more pressure as he circled her clit, occasionally flicking his tongue over it just to make her clench her thighs around his face tighter. That was apparently what she needed, as her panting and moaning took on a more keening tone while her muscles became more and more taught, telling him she was nearing completion.
His hand returned to her hip, ready to hold her still should she start thrashing to get away from the onslaught of his tongue. "Don't stop, please, don't stop All Might," she managed to gasp out between her rapid breaths, whimpering and moaning while she chased her release, her eyes still tightly closed. It felt like all the tension had built up in her core, tightened into knots of anticipation that were now being unraveled by his tongue.
The moment he stopped tracing the outline of her clit with his tongue and began roughly licking finally pushed her over the edge, making her body twitch as wave after wave of pleasure washed over her, making her hips jerk with each crash. She cried out, practically melting upon his tongue while he held her in place, forcing her to ride out the high while his tongue continued to move ceaselessly upon her. "Ah, no, please - too much," she choked out, realizing he was trying to drag a second release from her.
He growled into her, pausing only to let his teeth scrape the sensitive nub before starting to suck on it torturously, knowing full well it was more than she could handle and perhaps even borderline painful to endure. "Please, please stop," she tried to squirm away, tried to yank his head back, but he held her firm. "All Might, please," He released her clit only to flatten his tongue against it again, caressing it with just the right amount of pressure over and over until she broke upon him once more, crying out his name in ecstasy while her muscles quivered and shook.
It was far better than he had envisioned - his imagination couldn't do her justice over the last few weeks of his mounting desire. His hands slid over her sides to keep her propped up, conflicted over what to do next. He originally planned on using her spent pleasure to ease himself into her tight cunt, but his craving was like a siren call. He buried his face into her slick folds again, making her eyes finally open when he started greedily lapping her up once more. All Might closed his eyes and probed his tongue as deep as it could go, hungry for every last drop, his enthusiasm making her attempt wriggling her hips away every time his nose grazed her swollen clit. Getting away has never proven successful, but she couldn't help at least trying.
Her whole body stilled when she noticed an unfamiliar phone on her bed, the way it was propped against her pillow making her hold her breath. Was he...was he recording this? Streaming it? Did he even know how to stream?
He stopped mid-lick and opened his eyes, curious to see what had caused her to become motionless. She swallowed thickly, her eyes darting back to his, having to make a quick decision before he reacted: she leaned over and tried to snatch the phone.
By some miracle she managed to get it in her grasp before he forcefully rolled her onto her back, his hulking form suddenly looming over hers, his eyes wild. She pressed the stop button, a little relieved to see it was being saved to the device rather than broadcasted somewhere. "I'm going to delete it," she said angrily, frustrated tears making her eyes glassy but never spilling over. She was so stupid for allowing herself to enjoy his touch.
"If you delete it, I'll make us act the whole thing out all over again right now, princess," he hissed, his eyes bright with the temptation to make her come a third and fourth time.
The moment the video shrunk down though, she could see the other thumbnails in the folder...all lewd shots of her stashed in one place, some mid-changing, a few where she had just gotten out of a late night shower, all seemingly taken from a window. A couple were just zoomed-in pictures of her tits in a low-cut shirt while out with friends, another perfectly framing her ass in a particularly flattering pair of yoga pants. There was even a video shot from the window across from her bed, and in the dim lighting she could make out her body across the bed with her hands and a small toy between her thighs.
She stared at the screen in a shocked stupor, giving him the opportunity to snatch the phone from her hands.
His eyes flitted down to the screen and back to her. "Just a predator stalking his prey, sweetness. Don't get yourself all worked up," he crooned before locking the phone and slipping it back into his pocket. Did she think he was pathetic, weak-willed? Or was she simply afraid of him? He huffed out, looking her over. Perhaps it'd be best to wait until tomorrow before fucking her.
It was one thing to have a 'primal kink' along with whatever other twisted shit she had, but those were all harmless fantasies. This was not. This was a parade of red flags. He'd shown her his face-didn't that mean a captor was more likely to kill their hostage? What if this old wound was just part of a ruse to make her think he had a weakness while he cornered her? To say his grasp of consent so far could even be considered dubious was laughable. He stopped at her behest once, sure, and if the right conversation had taken place beforehand even round two and three where he ignored her pleas would have been acceptable. But there wasn't a safe word when reality was trying to screw you over, nor when a villain was trying to fuck you.
He climbed off of her, watching the gears inside her head turn, laying on his side now with his head propped up in his hand.
He began drumming his fingers impatiently on the mattress while he stared her down, the sound snapping her out of the panic-ridden trance she was in. A dangerous idea took root. She had one chance, and it'd drain both of them, but with any luck she'd come-to long before him.
She sat up glaring at him, pushing her hair out of her face and shifting so her body faced his. He caught her eyes trailing down his chest, pausing where the hem of his shirt met the waistband of his pants. Oh? Maybe he wouldn't have to wait. She reached out, fingertips grazing the hard planes of muscle that formed a v at his pelvis. He rolled onto his back and folded his arms behind his head, regarding her arrogantly as her hand continued to roam, his cock twitching in his pants like a beckoning invitation to unfasten his belt.
But her hands edged further, the pads of her delicate fingers finding the tendrils of scarring that started just above his left hip, following it up and up until...a blazing flash of blue light consumed them.
He hissed with the effort to push her away but found himself immobilized, watching a second hand join the first as the brightness of the light intensified, threatening to blind him. He could feel a pulsating warmth at his abdomen, the sensation of tugging and pulling, shrinking and expanding. Expanding, expanding, expanding - it felt like a white-hot iron was searing, but instead of withering away in shriveled ashes his insides were growing in size. The hollow pit where his stomach used to be felt...different. And for a single moment, he felt like he could take in just an extra breath of air before the world went black.