No Good Deed
Yandere AFO x Reader
| Part 2*| Part 3*|
Word count: 1.8k
Summary: All For One had intended to do nothing more than steal your Quirk and forget you ever existed. That was the plan, anyway.
Warnings: Kidnapping, unreliable narrator, non-con touching, Quirk theft, AFO is an asshole because AFO.
Author's Notes: I don't see enough people horny for this man.
You were a well-known nurse in the district, beloved by the locals and possessed of a minor healing Quirk—a useful little asset to add to All For One’s growing ledger.
Stripping it from you would be easy since you didn’t have security like high-ranking Pro Heroes, he decided to indulge a whim and pluck it from you personally. The plan was to play the lost civilian in the snow, gain just enough proximity to press his palm to your skin.
A simple touch. That was all it would require.
Stepping out of the shadows, he deliberately slouched his broad frame to appear smaller, weaker. Above him, the snow was falling heavily, blanketing the city in a deceptive peace.
"Oh dear—excuse me, sir?"
He registered your approach long before you came into view. But before he could even begin his rehearsed plea for directions, you completely blew past his expectations.
The sudden, frantic crunch of boots cutting through fresh snow caught him off guard.
"My goodness, what are you doing out here without a proper coat?" you scolded gently, breathing a plume of white mist into the freezing air.
Before he could understand how bold it was for you to be so close, you started to move. You began unbuttoning your heavy winter coat.
The instant the fabric parted, the biting wind tore through your thin scrubs, but you didn't even flinch. You slipped it off and held it out to him. "Take this."
"...Pardon?"
"Take it," you insisted. Stepping closer, you stood on your tiptoes to drape the warm fabric over his shoulders, stretching to ensure it covered him properly. "I'll be fine."
A blatant lie.
He watched the tremor take hold of your jaw the moment the smallest wind hit you. Yet somehow that fact seemed less important to you than a stranger's comfort.
"No, no," he replied mildly, though he made no move to push the coat away. "I couldn't possibly—"
"Yes, you could, you're shivering violently," you chided, your hands brushing against his chest as you tucked the collar closer to his chin. Your fingers were cold. "The trains are delayed because of the blizzard, and you don't even have a scarf. Are you trying to catch hypothermia?"
You grabbed his large, gloveless hand—the very hand meant to steal your livelihood—and dragged him toward the glowing alcove of a nearby vending machine. You hastily punched in a few coins, dropping a hot can of sweet coffee into his palm, forcing his fingers to wrap around the metal.
"Hold that. Keep your hands warm," you said, checking his face for signs of frostbite. "Do you live nearby? If you can make it to the station, I can walk with you."
You were still trying to help him, even now.
Even after giving away your scarf.
All For One stared down at the hot can in his hand, then looked at your shivering form. He could have taken your Quirk right then. A single press of his palm to your face, and it would be over. His mind, usually ten steps ahead of every hero and villain in Japan, couldn’t help but study you carefully. Trying to find the motive, the hidden expectation. There had to be one; people always wanted something.
Yet, as you helplessly brush snow from your sleeves and begin worrying aloud about frostbite, he found nothing.
How unfortunate for you.
He had come here intending to steal your Quirk, leave your Quirkless shell behind and forget your face by morning. Now, for the first time all evening, he found himself genuinely looking at you.
He could steal a Quirk. But whatever it was that made you stop for a stranger in the snow without expecting anything in return—that was a spark he couldn't simply reach out and tear from your chest. And suddenly, he wanted it too. He was All For One, after all; there was nothing you could do to stop him. Yet, unlike your Quirk, he wasn't entirely sure how to take it.
"You're very kind," he remarked.
The compliment seemed to embarrass you.
"Oh," you glanced away, "I'm just doing what anyone would do. Besides, I'd be a pretty terrible medical professional if I just walked past you."
No, you wouldn't, he thought, watching the puff of white condensation leave your lips.
That was becoming increasingly obvious. You genuinely believed everyone would stop and give away their coat. That reminds him terribly of his little brother, the exact same foolish, bleeding heart. Always weeping for the weak, never understanding that the world simply chews up people like you and spits out the bones.
"A medical professional?" he asked. He took a slow sip, his eyes never leaving yours. "What is it you do?"
"I'm a nurse, " you replied. "I run the late-night triage at the community clinic a few blocks down. We get a lot of elderly patients who can't make it to the major hospitals, especially in weather like this."
A nurse as expected, his ledger had told him as much. Yet hearing it from your own mouth felt more personal.
"That sounds difficult."
"It has its moments," you admitted, checking the time on your phone. "Which reminds me—I actually need to keep moving. I have a home-care patient who lives right by the station. If the trains are delayed, she won't get her insulin check. I was on my way to her when I spotted you."
You stepped closer again, entirely unbothered by his intimidating height, and tapped the hot can of sweet coffee you had forced into his hand.
"So, here's the plan," you said. "The trains are still running on a fifteen-minute delay, so if you head down that avenue, you'll catch the next one. Take care of yourself, alright? Don't let me catch you out here without a coat again."
There it was.
The moment he had intended from the beginning. His objective stood directly in front of him, within reach, a simple touch, then he would leave. You would become another tally mark in a century-long ledger. Another Quirk. Nothing more.
"Of course," his voice remained grateful. "I'll make sure to get straight to the station."
You smiled again, fully expecting to never see him again. What a tragic little shame.
"You really shouldn't have gone to all this trouble for a stranger," he said. "But thank you. Truly."
He wrapped his large fingers around yours, trapping the coffee can between your palms. It felt like a perfectly natural gesture of gratitude at first.
"Oh—it's really no problem," you stammered, a bit startled by the sudden proximity. You tried to gently pull back, but he didn't let go. Instead, he leaned down slightly, his breath pluming in the freezing air just inches from your face.
"No, let me look at you," he whispered, a soft smile touching his lips. His thumb began to trace the back of your hand, watching your eyes widen in confusion.
"Sir...?" your voice trembled, a faint instinct of danger finally sparking in your chest. "You're holding quite tight."
"Am I?" He tilted his head, his dark eyes boring into yours.
Then, he activated the power.
Deep within your chest, the warmth of your healing Quirk fractured. He felt it break away from your soul, a heat flowing up through your neck, pouring past your cheek, and rushing straight into the palm of his hand.
You violently yanked your hands out of his grip, stumbling backward until your boots slipped on the ice as your spine slammed hard against the brick wall of the alcove. You collapsed into yourself, panting violently, clutching at your chest.
"What..." you stared at him, your eyes wide with burgeoning horror. "What did you just do to me?"
He simply stood there in the falling snow, draped in your winter coat, turning the hot can of coffee over in his hands as the steaming liquid poured out, melting a black hole into the pristine white snow.
He tossed the empty aluminum can aside. It clattered against the frozen pavement, completely forgotten before it even stopped rolling.
"I took your Quirk," he answered.
For several seconds, you simply blinked at him, trying to decide whether he was joking or insane.
"What?" you stammered, your hands frantically pressing against your own skin, searching for the familiar spark that was completely gone. "What does that even mean?"
"Exactly what I said," he replied. "Your Quirk belongs to me now. Thank you for that, as well."
"That's not... that's not possible." You shook your head, panic broke through your confusion. "Who are you? Give it back. Give it back to me! I need it! My patients—"
"Your patients will find someone else," he interrupted, his tone remarkably gentle, as if he were explaining a simple truth to a child. "Or they won't. It hardly matters now."
"You... you're a villain," you whispered, the reality finally settling into your bones, your kind eyes were now filled with tears of helplessness. "You're a monster."
"Perhaps," All For One smiled, taking a step toward you, closing the distance you had just tried to create. "But I am an exceedingly grateful monster. You were so concerned that I might be left out in the blizzard alone, weren't you? Don't worry, dear. I fully intend to return the favor."
He reached out again, the rough pad of his thumb sweeping a stray tear from your cheek before the bitter air could freeze it. You tried to press yourself deeper into the brick, shrinking away until your knees trembled so violently they threatened to give out completely.
"Do you like blue?"
You blinked, the conversation derailed so abruptly that your fear visibly stumbled over itself.
"The color," he clarified. "Blue."
You continued staring. "I know what blue is..."
"Good. I want to ensure you're comfortable," he said, seeming to be thinking aloud now. "I was debating between a soft blue or perhaps something a bit warmer for a bedroom. A cream, maybe? Though, I suppose it doesn't really matter right now. Blue can always be repainted."
"Wait, what room?" you whispered, a desperate surge of adrenaline making you push against his chest, though his massive frame didn't move an inch.
He didn't get angry. He just looked down at your hands against his shirt with an indulgent gaze. Slowly, his hand came down, wrapping completely over both of your wrists and easing your weak resistance to a halt.
"The one you'll be staying in, of course."
