[Ch 4 of All of You, a Villain All Might x 3rd person F reader smutty fanfiction. She has no name and no hair/skin/eye color so you can easily self-insert. Stalker kink, praise kink, brat taming, and consensual kink. This was a writer's block project that has clearly gotten out of hand. This week's art credit/writing inspiration goes to Sunoichi on Twitter for their Villain Yagi Toshinori work! Chapter 4 starts with some fluff, some plot (to set up lots of future angst), angst (surprise), smut (wow, also a surprise), and fluff (I had to). Thank you to my beta-reader, HoneyPeach! I had 3 songs help inspire some scenes if you're into that: Empty Crown by YAS and Dead Yet by Gabriel Black for the beginning parts and You're The One by Big Gigantic for the ending fluff]
Yagi's eyes always snapped open roughly the same time each morning just as tendrils of sun filtered in through the window panes of his loft. But he couldn't remember the last time he awoke with his face buried in a woman's hair or his arms entwined around a woman's waist. She was curled against his side, her back pressing into his chest and their legs tangled in the sheets. Heat bloomed across his skin at every point of contact, blazing through his veins and warming him to the bone. Though they had become sticky with sweat whilst asleep, he found himself wanting more – pulling her closer, letting his hand roam up her nightshirt to splay his fingers across her stomach, the tip of his nose grazing her jawline while he resisted pressing kisses along her neck. His lust was sated through the night but he found himself hungering for something else, something like…contentment. Even in his thoughts, Yagi avoided the word 'love.'
His mind was at war with itself, constantly trying to evade guilt and regret, wearing an empty crown of villainhood that felt unbearably heavy upon his head. Sentimentality was a weakness waiting to be leveraged against him. Yagi sighed into her hair as she slept, wishing he could remember what it was like to not be afraid to become too attached to anyone, to anything.
Just an indulgence. He stretched his fingers across her stomach then relaxed them to trace imaginary swirling patterns across her skin, the gesture not matching the narrow-eyed scowl on his face.
His body was missing pieces and she was here to put him back together. She'd be gone after that – if he could let her go. He pulled her tighter to him at the thought, causing her to whine and squirm in her sleep. *Tch, so whiny.* An amused huff of breath passed his lips when her frigid feet found a gap between his calves to leech warmth from him as she continued to sleep like the dead.
His other commitments for the day could wait. He pressed his lips to the corner of her jaw before turning his face back into her hair to drag in another breath. Just a little more time. Just an indulgence.
– – – –
She woke up with a start, sitting up so quickly her head buzzed with dizziness. The bed was cold, the loft was empty, and she was back exactly where she began yesterday morning – two steps forward and two steps back. Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. She fell back into bed and rolled over onto her stomach, grabbing the nearest pillow to smother her face with and scream in frustration.
It was like watching herself fall for an unreciprocating asshole in slow-motion, and every time she had a chance to stop herself she dove right back down into falling again instead. She knew she would let her walls down and find out he wasn't worth it because it was *impossible.* How could a villain like him fall for her?
She was a chained dog trying to chase a rabbit, forever out of her reach and unattainable but still able to captivate her attention from a distance. She'd run herself ragged just trying to get close to him, thinking of nothing but him, feeling every damn emotion, just to see him walk away unscathed. Fuck that. Fuck him and his stupid rabbit-eared bangs.
Everything had to be timed right to avoid the brunt of his anger. She had taken her things back to her apartment, showered and dressed, and was already on UA campus grounds when she drafted the text. 'I need a few days of no-contact. Healing sessions are entirely on my terms going forward. I'll reach out when I'm ready, thank you for understanding.' Ahaha, All Might being 'understanding'? Unlikely. She shut her phone off as soon as it was sent, certain she could delay any temper tantrum he'd throw by staying with her grandmother on the grounds overnight. Perhaps with enough time away, his burning rage would settle into a harmless simmer? Also unlikely, but she had to try.
"Well, this is a welcomed surprise!" Recovery Girl clapped her hands together and smiled at the sight of her. "Sekijiro, have you met my granddaughter?"
A shirtless man – Kan Sekijiro, or Vlad King – was laying on his stomach across one of the beds and peeked up to look over his shoulder, nodding in greeting. They had met often during her shifts on campus when minor student injuries needed work.
She grinned at him in this prone position, used to seeing him in his red jumpsuit getup. He was a man of few words if experience was anything to go by, but maybe that was just around her. "Did one of the 1-B students lose control and catch you in the cross-fire?"
"Jiro has a bio-port to help with his blood quirk that needs to be checked regularly," Recovery Girl scuttled over to his bed and pointed at a port implant surrounded by red, raised welted skin indicating a small infection. "How about you take care of this? You know, Jiro, she doesn't have to drain her patient's energy while healing them. These quirks get stronger every generation," she muttered the last part with a mix of curious awe and concern.
"I actually came to ask you for some help, Baba," she laughed nervously but strode over to the sink and began washing her hands and forearms thoroughly to assist. "I was wondering if I could stay with you in your living quarters on campus tonight? And if I could begin making arrangements to live in one of the medical staff residency dorms." Best to rip the bandaid off quickly, right? She ignored the bewildered look Recovery Girl gave her and moved to sit along the edge of Sekijiro's bed, holding up her hands in silent offer to help. He nodded firmly and looked away, resting his chin back onto his folded arms.
"Well, of course my dear. Is everything alright? Why the sudden change of heart?" Recovery Girl looked down to Sekijiro's back, her brows furrowed in thought behind her glasses.
"Ah, well, I've got a…" She panicked to come up with a close-enough lie, busying herself by pressing her hands to surround the bio-port and enveloping it with blue light. "A peeping tom problem," she settled on that, feeling it suited the situation best: urgent but not especially dangerous. A few moments passed and she pulled her hands away to admire her handiwork – the skin was only very faintly pinkish this time – letting her gaze linger a little too long along the hard planes of muscle visible on his bare back. Oh god, did she have a type now?
"Oh my! But you're on the third floor? Is it a neighbor?" Recovery Girl fussed, patting her knee to comfort her.
"I think he uses a quirk to get up to my balcony," she scratched the tip of her nose embarrassedly, realizing her cheeks were warming. "I don't know who it is, I've never gotten a look at his face."
Sekijiro began rising from the bed, climbing down on the side opposite from where she sat and pulling his t-shirt back on. He had a frown on his face, rubbing his chiseled chin, clearly conflicted on whether he should offer unsolicited advice. In the end, he gave in. "Did you report him yet? Has he ever done more than look?"
"I haven't yet, but I will. And he's only ever looked," she lied again, shifting uncomfortably. "I know it'll take a few days to get a room ready if there even is one available, but I thought I'd just get some curtains and window latches to install tomorrow until then."
"Yes, yes, that would be for the best. Jiro can help you with that," Recovery Girl grinned that grin she knew meant 'you could do worse' when trying to marry off her grandchildren. She had no idea her granddaughter was already doing much, much worse.
Sekijiro gaped back and forth between them, not expecting to be volunteered. But he didn't seem begrudging when he hurriedly agreed to assist, exchanging phone numbers with her to meet up tomorrow.
– – – –
She had managed to keep her phone off until the following day, content to keep her grandmother company all Saturday afternoon and dive into Recovery Girl's cringey romance novels until she fell asleep on the couch at night. But once Sunday afternoon rolled around, she reluctantly turned it back on only to be met with a non-stop chorus of buzzing and notifications…making her briefly consider chucking her phone out the window and never getting another one.
Her hands dragged down her face in frustration, internally arguing with herself whether or not she should read the text messages or listen to the voicemails. No, no use tempting herself; he'd surely bait her in some way just to get a rise out of her. She left all of his messages unread, called Sekijiro to arrange a time to meet late in the afternoon, and shut her phone back off again.
They took the train back to her apartment in relative silence, making polite conversation about students and staff, occasionally stealing subtle glances at each other. He was wearing a backpack, a white v-neck shirt, unzipped gray hoodie, and loose gray sweatpants – if it weren't for his gray hair and bottom-fanged smile, he wasn't recognizable as his pro-hero persona.
"I just want to thank you again for going along with this," she sighed softly as they walked toward her apartment complex with bags full of supplies from the hardware store. "I'm sorry you got roped into it by my grandmother, but I appreciate your help all the same."
He rubbed his jaw nervously, "To be honest, she gave me your phone number a few months back when you first came."
Her laughter was loud and bright, the confession too unexpected to reel in her reaction. "Oh no, I'm so sorry. She's been trying to marry me off for quite a few years now – I'm sure you deal with that a lot," she flashed him a mischievous smile and looked him over appraisingly, knowing he wouldn't miss it. He wasn't that much older than her – maybe 30? And an unmarried pro hero? People must try to set him up all the time. "Are you single?" her smile became a grin, appreciating the way his face flushed bright red with an unusual intensity. Perhaps it was just part of having a blood-related quirk?
"I'm single, yes," he practically muttered, speeding up to walk ahead of her in hopes of hiding his still-reddening face.
"So am I," she said with a chuckle and left it at that, feeling like she was starting to be a little too merciless with her teasing. He glanced back at her, appearing flustered; Sekijiro was charmingly easy to embarrass. She knew she'd get a deep satisfaction out of using her self-confidence to make him blush as often as possible if he ever had the balls to – she froze mid-thought and mid-step, the now-familiar sensation of her hair standing on end giving her pause.
The bench. The bench they just passed. How did she not notice that mountain of a man taking up the whole plank, his blonde bangs on-end? She looked back over her shoulder, breathless, staring at his profile. He kept his face forward, his hands balled into fists on his lap.
"Everything okay? Is this not it?" Sekijiro asked gruffly and looked confused, standing 10 feet ahead in front of her apartment complex lobby doors.
"Sorry, just thought I recognized someone," she hurried over to him without looking back at All Might again, setting her bags down to fumble with her keys. She could feel her face warming and panic rising in her chest, her heartbeat thundering in her ears, terrified he'd tear the building apart out of pure spite. Why was she surprised he'd stake out her apartment?
Sekijiro leaned down to grab the bags she set down, staring at her prettily blushing cheeks, his brows furrowed in question.
She shot an uneasy look towards the bench before they passed through the doorway, giving her one last glimpse: his face was now turned towards them - his nostrils flared, jaw set, an eerily gleeful smile on his face. She felt her stomach twist into knots the whole way up to her apartment, debating whether or not she was overreacting. All Might was too logical and coldly calculating to be that reactive over being given the silent treatment, right? He'd keep her punishment very personal rather than resort to mass property damage.
Sekijiro asked something as they were kicking off their shoes, but all she could hear was her pulse pounding in her head. "My bad, what was that?"
He was kneeling down and unzipping his backpack, taking out a drill and other tools they'd need. "You seem really nervous to be back. Maybe you should stay with Recovery Girl until they have a room ready for you?"
"I'll definitely consider that tomorrow, but for now I'd just feel better to have some curtains and locks put up, even if I don't stay. Sorry for the trouble," she knelt down beside him and began unloading their bags into tidy piles on the floor organized by what job they were for. Her mind was finally settling, realizing if All Might was going to come storming in he would have done so already. They'd go interrupted, she assured herself.
"It's no trouble," he grumbled and blushed again, making her finally crack a smile. "I can take you back to the UA campus tonight," he pressed, clearly thinking it was the best option given the way she was behaving.
"I'm very stubborn, so unless you plan on throwing me over your shoulder…" she trailed off and chuckled at the bewildered expression on his face. He was too easy to tease.
They worked quickly and efficiently together, having locking latches, rods, and cheap curtains hung on all the windows and balcony by early evening. It went so smoothly she dared to hope Yagi would give her the space she needed – maybe he just wanted to make sure she wasn't dead? "We make a good team," she flashed him a flirty smile, settling into the couch next to him and handing him a water bottle.
He grunted in agreement, his cheeks tinged pink once more and posture oddly stiff. "You can call me if you need a hand again."
She grinned at his obvious discomfort over her new proximity and moved to perch herself on the armrest further away to put him at ease. "I'll take you out to breakfast or lunch sometime to say thank you."
His cheeks continued to redden even with his scowl, but he didn't object to the offer. Has she ever met a man who blushed this much?
She helped him pack up his tools as he sternly reminded her to file a report for her 'peeping tom.' But the moment her door snapped shut and Sekijiro was gone, she heard the sound of something scraping glass. Her uninterrupted time with Sekijiro was too good to be true. She should have known.
She refused to verbally acknowledge his attempt to get her attention, instead rushing over to her closet in sullen silence and pushing aside some garment bags until she found what she was looking for: a large metal bat.
The scratches became harder, longer, more bone-chilling until it sounded like a single nail dragging across a chalkboard each time. "Fuck off!" She finally shouted at the curtain-covered balcony door, positioning herself to stand directly in front of it sight-unseen with the bat raised.
"Let. Me. In. Kitten." His voice carried through the glass, deeper and rougher than she ever remembered it being, stressing each syllable like his tongue was striking hot iron over a forge.
"I told you, this is all on my terms now," she choked out the words, unable to help how little air she could draw in while her fear staggered and soared. She was white-knuckling the bat, the muscles in her arms trembling with the adrenaline coursing through her blood, "and right now my terms are 'fuck off,' Yagi!"
The glass groaned under the pressure of his single finger, threatening to pop and crack and shatter. "Shall we do this the easy way or the hard way, sweetheart?" It was taking all of his willpower to not break through the door and steal her away. She was trying to keep him out, keep him away, but she *belonged* to him. His breathing was ragged with fury, needing to see her, to touch her. "What good are a few locks when I can just knock down every wall until this place fucking *crumbles*?" he hissed through the balcony door.
He saw a flutter of light as the curtains shifted followed by the sound of a lock unlatching – he never opened a door faster, storming through the billowing fabric until something hard struck his stomach directly over his scar. All Might barely flinched, grabbing and pulling the curtain aside so roughly that it tore away from the rod, finally face to face with her.
The metal bat thudded against him uselessly. She didn't know what she was expecting, but, at least *some* reaction. Something. Anything. His eyes darted from the bat to her shocked face, then down to the torn material in his hand. Her breathing picked up, her chest feeling impossibly tight so every gasp of air seared, trying to back away. But he matched her every step, his long strides closing the gap between them before she could get her bearings. "Stay…stay back," she stuttered out, raising the bat again for another swing while he stood there looking like an angry god.
"Or what?" He canted his head to the side and glared down at her, his lip curled into a soundless snarl. All Might tore a wide strip of fabric from the curtains still in his hand, throwing the rest onto the floor, his gaze flickering to her hands then back to her face. "Do it again. Hit me again and see what happens."
Her hands spasmed around the grip tape of the handle, this swing weaker than the last as if she'd already given up. He caught it easily and yanked it from her hands, making her stumble back until her back was pressed into the wall behind her. "Just go, please. Or let me go. I don't care which," she glowered before sliding down the wall until she was sitting on the floor, gazing up at him with rapidly reddening cheeks.
"Do you think I'd let you go so easily? Let you hide from me?" He threw her bat across the room and into the wall, cracking the plaster. "You think I didn't know you were at UA? Do you think I didn't hear you flirting with him?" All Might reached down to snatch her wrists, quickly binding them with the torn piece of curtain all the way to her fingertips so her hands were tied and pressed together, barely registering how she struggled and tried to tug them back. "I've been very generous," he let go of her once he was certain her hands were secured enough to prevent her from using her quirk on him, his eyes searching her face. "Tell me kitten, did he blush this prettily when he thought he had a chance in hell with you?"
She immediately began trying to pull her hands apart and wriggle her wrists from the tightly-wound cloth, her rising irritation helping the fear she felt ebb away. "What, you think I'm all yours? You can fuck right off with that," she shifted so she was on her knees, getting ready to stand back up, wanting to just get away from him. But his hand fisted her hair before she could rise, tilting her head back, his eyes fixated upon her mouth.
"I'll let you have him if your pretty little hole is at my beck and call," His other hand got to work unbuckling his belt, wetting his lips with his tongue in anticipation. "I'll let you fuck who you want, but you're mine when I say so," he murmured, moving his pants so they were slung below his hips and pulling out his massive cock. "Now, open your sweet mouth to apologize and maybe I'll be lenient with you," he smiled wickedly, tipping his length down with his hand and drawing her up slightly by her hair so her lips were at level with it.
His words left her breathless, not at all expecting such an unprompted concession after his jealous tirade. She tried to scoot back on her knees, only managing to press herself further into the wall, but haughtily lifting her chin to meet his steady stare. "What do you mean?"
He could watch her from afar in someone else's arms so long as it meant she'd return to his as often as he needed her to. A day spent with her out of his reach made him willing to negotiate despite his greedy nature – he was desperate to not lose her entirely, but he'd never admit it. All Might was merely ready to concede that the least strenuous way forward was to give the illusion of freedom while reeling her in…letting her pick and choose until she comes to the realization that she belongs to him, that she wants no one else but him. And once he has his fill, he'd let her go.
His smile was dark and crooked with wickedness, "I'll let everything else be on your terms, I'll even share you…if I can take you whenever I want," his gaze flicked over her, some of the anger from her striking him fading from his eyes. "Within reason, of course," he added to seem more amicable, that wicked smile blooming into a grin. "Is that agreeable for you? Or would you prefer the alternative where I keep you locked away?"
Her eyes flitted down, blood still warming her cheeks as she took in the view – he had begun to stroke himself, glistening white beads of anticipation leaking from his tip. "Don't lie to me," she looked back up at him, straightening her spine and squaring her shoulders, not believing him capable of…what? Letting her live her life with a few romps in the bed and rounds of healing as the only interruptions going forward?
He stiffened, his eyes glowing like blue flames in black coals, raking down her body and leaving sparks of heat in their wake and fire roiling through her blood. "You won't hide from me again if I give you that liberty, will you?" His fingers uncoiled from her hair, descending to gently cup the side of her face, his thumb caressing her cheek with unexpected tenderness.
She found herself leaning into his affectionate touch, her lashes fluttering and breath hitching. Maybe it'd be easier to detach from this twisted addiction to him, maybe he'd lose interest in her sooner… She couldn't understand who or what she was to him, but this arrangement allowed for more separation than she could have hoped for. The moment she nodded in agreement with his offer, his hand returned to her hair, gripping it just a little less rough than before.
"Say you're sorry, princess," he breathed out the words, his face etched with hunger.
Her lips pursed into a slight pout but she relented, gazing up at him through her long lashes and sweetening her tone, "I'm sorry."
It didn't seem genuine, but it was enough. "Now say it again with your tongue," he pulled her forward by her hair, the head of his thick cock pressing against her mouth so precum glistened on her full lips. "You'll be earning your forgiveness with that mouth, and you won't spill a drop of it, will you?" He rasped the words out, unable to tear his eyes away from her lips, waiting for them to yield to him.
Her tongue peeked out to flick over the tip, bathing it with warmth as she wicked away the salty taste of him. She smiled to herself when he groaned, drawing him into her mouth with more eagerness than she had expected.
All Might's eyes flamed back to life, his lips curving to sharpen his grin like a knife when he saw that self-satisfied expression. She was supposed to be apologizing, not feeling arrogant. His hand held her still by her hair as he bucked his hips, forcing himself into her mouth and down her throat until she gagged upon him, only pulling away when he saw pinpricks of tears in her eyes. "I'll make sure you're sorry, sweetheart," he ground out through gritted teeth.
Her cheeks and eyes burned with anger, but she found her mouth taking him in again of her own volition nonetheless, glaring up at him through her long lashes.
He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly dry at the heated expression she gave him. "That's right, look at me just like that," he rasped. She looked so exquisite when she was mad, but especially so with his cock in her mouth, her head bobbing up and down while her tongue writhed and undulated deliciously along the underside of his length.
She couldn't take him to the hilt with his immense size, but his hand followed her mouth stroking in time with every inch she was unable to swallow, fingertips spreading the slick of her saliva as he went. She moved hungrily along him, gliding up and down with her pliant mouth and dragging her tongue as she moved. But the moment she got too comfortable, he bucked into her again grunting when her throat constricted as she choked and scrabbled.
"How sorry are you?" He growled out when she glared at him again, trying to pull herself free. The hand knotted in her hair held firm, not letting her draw back and keeping the tip of his fat cock seated in her mouth. "Are you sorry yet?" His breathing was labored, pulling her back down onto himself again, clearly getting close.
She grazed her teeth across him in protest as he drew her down, but that seemed to push him over the edge, his hips stuttering as he drew a sharp hissing inhale through his teeth. His hot seed hit the back of her throat, his eyes wide with poorly concealed shock until he reeled his expression back in. He rocked his hips and held her head in place with each shuddering spurt, his eyes narrowing as a flush of anger colored his cheeks.
She drank him down trying to appease him, letting her throat and mouth milk his throbbing member greedily until she was sure there wasn't a drop left to be swallowed. He gave a low rumble of approval as she sucked him clean, letting her hair go so she could pull back entirely, but she didn't miss the way his lips were pressed into a firm line – she wasn't fully forgiven.
"We're not done," he reached down and twisted the collar of her low-neck shirt into his grip, using it to pull her onto her feet. Judging by her triumphant expression she was not surprised, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. He wasn't sure if he should be seething or aroused at the sight, his desire to punish her at war with his desire to be *wanted* by her. But her smirk faltered under his heated stare, not anticipating the way it would twist his lips into another snarl. He practically dragged her to the bed by her shirt, bringing her around to the side closest to her standing mirror.
"Be a good girl and lift up your skirt for me," he crooned sweetly as he sat along the edge of her bed, the mattress dipping under his weight. All Might released her shirt only to grab her by the hips, spinning her so she stood with her back to him. "And then you'll beg me to stop, isn't that right?" His hands moved up and down her sides, petting and coaxing her, looking at her in their reflection with unabashed need.
Her heart started pounding at the wretched way he was staring, how his whole body was tense, his shoulders rising and falling with increasingly labored breaths. It made her legs tremble, her hands shaking slightly as she grasped the hem of her skirt, inching it up. But she moved too slowly, prompting him to reach around and yank it up so the material bunched around her hips. She caught her lower lip between her teeth, biting down with sudden shyness, her cheeks blushing furiously. "Please, don't…" she pressed her thighs together, his eyes momentarily flickering up to her face before darting back down to the obvious wet spot saturating the underside of her panties.
"I love it when you say that," he murmured, pulling her back against his chest while she stood between his spread legs, his feet firmly planted on the ground. "You can beg me to stop all you want, but you know I won't," he was so much taller than her that he rested his chin upon her shoulder, his long bangs framing his grinning face now that he was relaxed, "and we both know you don't want me to stop." He hooked a thumb into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down until they fell past her knees and dropped around her feet.
"No, no," She whispered and tried to twist her hips away from his hand as he forced his way between her thighs, delving a single finger between her folds to see just how wet he'd find her – he groaned at how soaked she was, his digit slick with her desire.
"Tell me, did he put his hands on you?" His breath was hot against her ear, his gaze darkening with the thought of Sekijiro touching her when he could not see her. She shook her head adamantly, fear flashing in her eyes when he grinned at her answer and ran a tongue over one of his pronounced canines. "Did you want him to? Did you want him to touch you the way I do?" He brought his hand to his lips, lolling his tongue out to lick his finger suggestively while holding her gaze in the mirror.
"He didn't, I swear," was all she managed to say, unsure if he'd believe her or if she'd believe herself on whether or not she wanted him to. She felt his chest rumble against her back as he growled with what she left unsaid, his eyes roaming up and down her body with unmistakable possessive intent.
He shoved a knee between her legs to pry them apart, his hand moving to stroke his cock, clearly planning to force her upon it. "I have some rules for you to follow if I'm going to let you have him," he breathed the words into her neck, glaring at her with a fierceness that made her heart hammer in her chest. "If I'm going to let you have *anyone*" he amended, the words like venom on his lips.
She wordlessly squirmed against him, trying to pull away, trying to escape his grasp. But his arm quickly curled around her hips and gave no room to maneuver. He instead slowly dragged her down, down, down, inching her towards his lap until she felt the blunt presence of his tip pressing against her entrance.
"You'll let me take you anytime I want to, wherever and however I want to...without me saying a word or giving warning, if that's what I need," he murmured, his warm breath spilling across her neck as he began pressing kisses against it. He used his hand to move the crown of his cock up and down her slit, coating it thoroughly with her until it glistened. "You can tap out…but other than that, no matter how you beg or scream or fight, I'll keep going," he bit into the curve of her neck to stress the sentiment, making her flinch.
She nodded in assent, her breathing quickening to soft needy gasps as she watched him in the mirror, her cheeks blazing red.
"Good girl," he notched himself against her hole again, bearing his weight down onto her hips with his arm to lower her onto it. His mouth fell open at the sight, greedily watching the way she had to stretch around him just to take the first inch, listening to the sweet aching sounds she made as he sunk further and further in, little by little. "Look at how good you're taking me, kitten," he tore his gaze away only to make sure she was also watching their reflection, then darting back down to devour the view.
He eased her onto his length until she was buried to the hilt, her cunt grasping and clenching atop him, trying desperately to adjust to his girth. "I'll tie you up or bend you over wherever I want and you'll just have to take it, won't you?" He could see pain and pleasure intermingled with shock in the expression on her face, the way she bit her lip to stifle a needy moan making his cock twitch inside of her. The overwhelming sensation and his heated words caused her to squirm, inadvertently tightening herself upon him until he groaned loudly between his heavy breaths.
"N-no, no, please," she pleaded between gasps, caught between how she ached and how she wanted nothing more than to feel his hips snapping against her.
"You'll only run and hide if you want me to chase you down and fuck you, do you understand?" He began rocking his hips while she was fully seated upon him, grinding himself into her, instinctively trying to bury himself deeper despite knowing there was nowhere else to go.
"Yes, yes," she called out, finding herself wanting to be his prey. She tried rolling her hips to get him to graze that sweet spot within her, but his arm across her hips was firm and commanding - she had no say in how he'd use her tonight.
"And I get to wake you with my tongue whenever I please, even if it's in his bed" he growled out, unable to stop himself from confessing all the ways he wanted to have her. He was soaked with her after just minutes of teasing, allowing him to draw out slowly and sink back in carefully, testing how easily he could manage her body this way, how perfectly she glided up and down him, how ready she was to take him.
"Oooh, more, please. Please, I need more," she cried out, trying hard to bounce herself upon his cock, but his iron grip would not allow it. No, she would not get her way tonight, he was determined to thoroughly use her only as he pleased.
"Mm, you're begging so prettily for me, kitten," he dragged his tongue up the side of her neck before biting her again, his gaze hooded with lust reflecting back at her in the mirror. He moved his free hand to her throat, using it and the arm slung across her hips to constrict her, starting to fuck her smoothly while ensuring she had nowhere to go, her hands still bound in front of her trying to free themselves uselessly. "How about I call him on your phone and let him listen?" his eyes shifted down, fixed on the sight of him pumping in and out of her as her body shuddered and twitched atop him.
"No, don't, please," she gasped between her aching and needy sounds of delight as he used her like a doll, restraining her and bucking up into that tight hole with his feet grounded to the floor.
He grinned at the way she pleaded, his expression growing more wild and unhinged. "I'll fill you up every time before you go see him, so you have to feel me dripping down your thighs when you look at his face," he growled the words into her ear, canting his hips to fuck her deeper while he held her in place as if she weighed nothing.
"I won't let you," she whimpered out in protest, her eyes fluttering closed with a heady moan, his thrusting brutal but still exactly what she wanted, what she needed. His hand left her throat briefly, only long enough to tug her shirt down and free her breasts from the lining of her bra, eyes greedily watching them bounce with every stroke.
"'Let' me?" He chuckled darkly between labored breaths as he drove into her over and over, hips slapping against her with less and less patience every time he withdrew and slammed back into her again. "I bet he'd still fuck you even if he knew - you're just too pretty to resist, aren't you? He'd take whatever he can get." His grip around the column of her throat tightened, the fat head of his cock hitting that sweet bundle of nerves inside of her relentlessly until her keening moans and cries grew high and thin. "But only I get to fill you up, do you understand? Only I get to spill my load into this little cunt." He practically purred the words, his lips still pressed to her ear, plowing up into her savagely.
Pleasure was coiling up inside of her rapidly, so close to the edge with every word and every touch. His arm hitched her up higher so his length dragged over that sweet spot relentlessly, hitting that same mark with unyielding precision. She was gasping and moaning above him, unable to form words anymore, her eyes tightly closed as she neared her peak.
"Not a single drop from him, kitten. Only I get to ruin you like that," he bit down onto her neck again, harder than before, making pleasure and pain sing through her in unison. Her body shouted for relief to a chorus of slapping skin and aching cries, his grunts of effort a steady beat drumming in her head.
She was stiffening against him, her cunt starting to tighten deliciously around him in rapture. He pressed his mouth to her ear once more, whispering 'only me' into it again and again, wanting her to hear those words and nothing else while her body spasmed and convulsed wretchedly upon his cock. She cried out, continuing to writhe upon him as she unraveled, his hand on her throat tightening, holding her in place buried to the hilt upon him while his arm unwound from her hip. He used his newly-freed hand to slap her clit as she came, making her body tremble and jolt with every hit, her pleasure soaring unexpectedly with the searing sensation.
"Only me, only me," he kept repeating, his eyes moving from her face to his hand smacking her front, unabashedly captivated by the sight in the mirror. He rolled and ground himself into her as he went, still torturing her sensitive bud with quick strikes, not giving up a single inch even as she tried to tear herself away when the pleasure got too intense. He held her in place with determined control by just her throat until a wet heat spilled from her, soaking his cock with her spent desire.
As soon as the sound of her sweet aching cries tapered, he tipped her head back by her neck until her eyes fluttered open, meeting his dark and heated gaze. "You look so beautiful taking me," his voice was strained before he leaned down, dipping his tongue into her past her parted lips and crushing his mouth into hers, his hand on her throat gentling its grip as he stole a long, drinking kiss from her.
But that gentleness soon abated, tightening his fingers around her neck again and snaking his other arm back around her hips once more. Her body was nearly limp atop him, letting her fall slightly forward against his arms as he began snapping his hips back up into her again. "Beg me to stop," he commanded, his eyes wide and fixed upon where their bodies joined in the mirror.
"Please, please," her voice was weak and almost whining, "no more, please, no more." He groaned with her words, compelling him to buck into her with wild abandon as he chased his own pleasure.
"Just a little more" crooned sweetly, mockingly, in reply. Her soft moans of 'Yagi' were heard between her sighs of appreciation, contrasting wickedly with her uttered pleas to stop. "Toshinori," he growled into her ear, his hips stuttering when he spoke, surprising even himself. He never gave out that name, never. But she was so sweet and perfect upon his cock, so willing to take him, poised to take every drop of his seed. And she was his, even if she didn't comprehend that yet.
"Toshinori," she breathed, her cheeks blooming red with renewed blushing as she gazed at him wide-eyed in the mirror. The sound of his name on her lips made his face slacken, his mouth agape. She whispered it again and again, each time sounding more needy and pleading than the last, driving him into a fever-pitch of frantic thrusting and rutting.
"Good girl, yes, yes, take it," he called back as she kept crying out his name, his voice strained and broken when his hips snapped up into her a final time. He groaned low and long as his bollocks twitched beneath her, unleashing wave after wave of hot seed into her. All Might held her in place, keeping himself buried into her with each spurt, filling her until his leavings were spilling back down into his tight blonde curls, breathing hard into her ear.
He tilted her head back and angled his face down for another kiss, his tongue sweeping into her mouth and entwining with hers. While her eyes snapped shut when their lips met, his stayed open, half-lidded with pleasure and staring at their mingled mess trailing down and onto the bed linens in the mirror. He soon closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, tasting the moan upon her lips as his hands moved to stroke up and down her sides before wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him possessively.
He'd share her if it meant he could have this whenever he pleased – if it meant she wouldn't hide herself away and leave him with nothing. She did not want to be bound to him if he insisted on being 'unattached.' And she was merely an indulgence, so why should it matter? They'd go back to their lives once he had his fill.
He withdrew from the kiss to gaze down at her, watching her long lashes flutter as she opened her eyes again, hearing a contented sigh and seeing that happy, sated smile curve her full lips. All Might's chest grew tight, knowing he wouldn't even need to share her if he could bring himself to truly steal her away. Or was it the knowledge that she'd be only his if he could just...no. He didn't love things, and he didn't love her.
He unwound one of his arms from her, using his hand to unbind her wrists and hands from the torn shreds of curtains he had used to secure them. His other hand shifted up only to right her shirt but went right back to holding her to him, lowering his head to begin kissing up and down along her neck. Her hands slipped up into his unruly hair, her head tilting to give him better access, a breathy moan of delight passing her lips.
"Toshinori…is that your real name? Yagi Toshinori?" She whispered, letting her brows furrow and watch him curiously in the mirror.
He was loath to stop moving his mouth where he had worked up to her jawline, huffing an exhale that fanned out warmly against her skin. "Yes," his voice was rough, his eyes downcast now to look between her thighs where he was still rooted in her, clearly debating if he had enough energy left in this form to go another round.
She tried to shift in his lap when her gaze followed his line of sight, stopping only when he glared up at her. "I can't heal you tonight if you plan on exhausting me this way," she murmured, her eyes half-lidded and her smile curling into something more mischievous. "Don't make me grab my bat again," she grinned until he pinched the curve of her hip to make her yelp and swat at his hand.
"You should be grateful I didn't throw it harder," he scowled as she tugged the front of her skirt down to hide herself from view in the mirror, watching her cheeks rapidly redden as she rose from his lap, their co-mingled mess trailing thickly down her thighs.
"I should be thankful you fucked up my drywall?" she asked indignantly, hurriedly tugging her skirt down further as if that would make the sight less lewd, embarrassed at how he stared.
But as she tugged the front of her skirt down, the back of it edged up, giving him a lascivious view of the back of her thighs and how his spent pleasure was dripping down. "Why don't you have your little hero boyfriend fix it for you?" he muttered, grazing the back of his index finger from the back of her knee up to where her ass curved perfectly above her thigh, making her shiver.
"So jealous," looked over her shoulder at him with obvious irritation. "Maybe I should doubt the legitimacy of your offer to let me live my life while you…get whatever it is you need from me," she averted her eyes and tugged both the front and back of her skirt down in union, shimmying it down over her thighs until it was righted.
He rolled his eyes, dismissive as he stood, towering above her. "Just do what I tell you to do when I tell you to do it, and we won't have a problem, will we?" All Might grinned, hoping to piss her off.
"You're going to pay someone to repair the damage you did here," she ignored his comment and strode over to the bathroom to clean herself up, pressing the door closed behind her. By the time she opened the door again, he was stripped down to just his boxers and sitting on the edge of her bed once more as Yagi. She gave him a cursory glance before moving to her dresser, feigning disinterest despite the desire to ogle him. She changed into an oversized sleeping shirt and clean underwear, unbothered by how he watched her strip down and re-dress, occasionally stealing glances at him as she went.
A small part of him craved this normalcy, seeing her in a big t-shirt and running her fingers through her hair across the room, humming noncommittally as she moved back to the bed, acting as if she didn't care that he was…him. She pressed her hand to his chest and pushed him down roughly, making him quirk his brow as he relented and laid back.
"Do you want me to focus on finishing your stomach, or start on your lung?" She climbed onto the bed so she straddled him, certainly not needing to heal him in this position but getting quite a thrill out of bossing him around after his jealous near-meltdown earlier. Her palms pressed into his abdomen, dragging them up his chest slowly, unabashedly appreciating his now-lithe build but wondering how much more he'd fill in with this session… There had to be a limit.
"Kitten…" he murmured in warning as she moved her hands up his chest pleasurably, not missing the way her rear pressed into his lap as she straddled him, his cock rapidly hardening beneath her again. His eyes were fixed to her face, his expression a mix of reverent fascination and desire that she eyed curiously.
"If you have the energy, and if you're very, very nice…maybe I'll ride you after," she canted her head to the side with an innocent smile, her words anything-but. Her suggestion was quite the turn around from swinging a bat at him earlier, however between his new approach to their arrangement, knowing his name, and the way he looked at her now, she couldn't help acting more like herself with him. Less afraid and purely submissive, more bratty and teasing. "Now, answer: Stomach or lung?"
His lips parted, her casual teasing and wicked offer catching him entirely off-guard. "Tch, fine…stomach," he tore his eyes away from her to stare at the ceiling, ignoring the warmth blooming in his chest, his face suddenly unreadable.
The abrupt change in his demeanor no longer surprised her – ever the fucking enigma. She shifted her palms to sit directly above his stomach, leaning forward onto her hands to get comfortable for the long hour of silence ahead of them. "Close your eyes," she said, the strangely wistful tone of her voice making him glance back down to her.
She looked…sad, he thought to himself as he was closing his eyes before a flash of blue light enveloped them.
They both had a sheen of sweat on them when the hour was up, her rolling off of his lap to lay beside him on the bed while Yagi groaned and held his abdomen tenderly the moment he could move. "I have good news and bad news," she pressed her hands to her forehead, feeling dizzy.
"You pushed yourself too hard," he growled out, propping himself up onto his elbows to glare at her.
"Yes, but now you're ahead of schedule. Your stomach is back to 100%." She reached up and blindly grabbed for one of her pillows, holding it to her chest, afraid to even sit up.
Part of him was elated, eager to get up and look into the mirror...but he looked over at her, frustrated, "You did it on purpose." Was it that sad look she had? Was she just trying to get out of fucking him again? Or trying to get rid of him entirely by shortening how many weeks he'd need with her? And look at the state she put herself in now! He ran his hand through his hair in irritation. "Why?"
"Shouldn't you be happy?" Her lips pursed into a pout when he stood up from the bed and snatched her pillow away, but she refused to look at him, instead opting to close her eyes and languidly stretch with a gratified little moan.
Yagi watched the way her shirt slid up her thighs and exposed her panties, the way she slightly writhed mid-stretch, how her back arched beneath her...he wanted her again. Thinking about her the whole time she worked made the dull throbbing in his abdomen that much more bearable.
He frowned, splaying his fingers across his stomach. It didn't hurt as much as it had the last few times. Yagi shot her one last irritated look before striding over to the mirror to get the full breadth of their progress.
The entire bottom half of the brown, twisted knots of tissue that made up his scar was flattened into smooth, pink skin. He stared at it in disbelief until he peripherally noticed his body looking fuller, drawing his attention away. His musculature was more defined; rather than just tall and lean he looked...sturdy, built, solid – reminiscent of how he recalled himself being shaped as a student in the UA. Still not entirely himself, but he finally had the type of strong heft to his body that made Yagi intimidating for something other than just height.
"You're getting better at this. Stronger," he murmured, having a hard time looking away from his reflection. Yagi spent these last 5 years so certain he'd only ever be a shell of his former self before his body just gave out on him.
"It gets easier to work with your energy as I become more familiar with it," she held her hands up to inspect them curiously, trying to be discreet when she glanced past him to look at his reflection in the mirror. "But I think you're right, I'm getting stronger too. I've never been able to work on such complicated cases before you and Cutting Edge," she could feel her cheeks warming as she spoke, sidetracked by the hard planes of muscle etched into his skin along his back.
When her eyes finally meandered to the surface of the mirror, she saw him staring back at her through the reflection and grinning. "Do you like what you see?"
"That's like asking an artist if she loves her masterpiece," she let her gaze linger, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips until she saw his grin falter, afraid she somehow managed to piss him off with her joke.
His next breath was a shuddering inhale before he turned and prowled back to the bed, climbing up onto it wordlessly and stopping only when he was crouched above her on all fours. Yagi slipped a hand under the back of her head, his fingers entwining with her hair, an unexpected fierceness behind his blue eyes as he glared down at her.
She squirmed beneath him, her head rolling into his hand and eyes wide with surprise. "Did I say someth -" he cut her off with a slow kiss that made her eyes flutter shut, his tongue delving into her as she tried to speak, hand pulling her closer and angling her head so he could deepen it. Her hands immediately found his hair, tangling into it and urging him on, his unexpected passion both thrilling and tender.
He wouldn't let her eagerness quicken the way his mouth moved over hers, taking his time with long luxurious swipes of his tongue, each new kiss as deliberate and amorous as the last. Even when she moaned into his mouth he merely savored the sound and taste rather than hasten his movements, his other hand moving cup the column of her throat, his thumb reaching up to graze her jawline tenderly.
She was breathless but would rather prolong his gentle touches than take in more air. Each kiss was long and drinking, like he was trying to drain life from her, but sensual, sweet, and adoring in a way she had never experienced before. Her hands tried to drag him down, pull him on top of her, wanting to feel the weight of him over her to reassure herself this was real.
He broke the seal of their kiss to relent, settling onto her gingerly so he was pressed into her without crushing her, both of them nearly gasping for air. Yagi could see the questions forming in her mind, the things she wanted to ask on the precipice of her tongue, how she stopped herself out of fear he'd stop or leave. He crushed his lips back into hers again rather than risk that chance, rather than acknowledge the nature of how his mouth moved against hers, loving and reverent.
She wanted this moment to stretch on forever, she wanted him to stay the night, to stay through the morning, to stay forever. He was always on the run. Did he not understand she didn't want him to let go? That he was the one she wanted to hold? "Don't go," she murmured against his mouth before returning his longing kiss. Her lips moved indulgently against his, starving for the ambrosian-like affection she had finally gotten a taste of, unwilling to give it up.
[Don't forget, this author has a praise kink! Please let me know what you enjoyed or what I can do better. I struggled with the plot side of this and making it feel natural while also setting up lots of new and fun opportunities to make angst. One day he'll confess his feelings for her, but until then, it's gonna be a jealous, toxic, smutty mess with glorious bits of fluff thrown in. Big thank you to HoneyPeach for being my beta-reader!]