Siren Song (All Might x Reader)

Chapter 2: A Proposition

You woke to a flood of unfamiliar stimuli. Soft sheets caressed your salt-weathered skin, a firm mattress supported your body, both sensations you hadn't felt in a while. You groggily opened your eyes, looking around at an unfamiliar room. curtains swayed in the breeze of the open window. The warm sunlight streamed onto the sheets of the bed, it was peaceful: picturesque. You sat up, noticing a t-shirt that hung loosely over your body. You had no idea where you were, but it didn't seem to be too dangerous. Your memories from the previous night were hazy, but you could remember the jist of it. Am I dead? Is this heaven? No...no I couldn't be. I definitely deserve hell. You pinched yourself on the arm: nope, definitely not dead.

You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, tentatively putting your feet on the hardwood floor. You had absolutely no idea of where you could be, and a careful peak out the window proved you were way too high to climb out. The only other option you had was a white door on the other end of the room, slightly ajar. You crept across the room, the wood creaking under your weight. You opened the door to the bedroom wider, peaking your head outside. You saw a tousle of blonde hair sitting on the opposite side of the room on a large white couch, facing towards a wall with a TV on it. You appeared to be in an apartment (or an enormous penthouse, as it could be better described), with lavish furnishings and decorations throughout.

You crept out from behind the door, your foot making an audible padding noise against the marble floor. The man shifted on the couch, turning around to check who was approaching.

"Oh, you're awake!" He smiled gently, standing up from his seat. You cowered behind the door, unsure of how and why this strange man took you to his apartment instead of killing you. Hopefully not to be his sex slave or something else weird...

"Sorry," He said, raising his hands and taking a step back. "Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you. You look very different out of water, by the way. "

"B- but I was going to... I'm sorry," you whispered, suddenly feeling horrible for what you'd done. It was a feeling you had learned to suppress after all of that time. "I wasn't going to kill you... I just ne-"

"You don't need to explain. I understand... your eyes aren't those of a killer. We've all done things we need to do to survive..." He didn't say anything for a minute. "How about you come sit down... I'll make you something to eat. Are you hungry?"

"I'm..." Before you could answer, your stomach growled loudly, causing a blush to creep across your cheeks.

He smiled kindly and chuckled, walking over to his spacious kitchen and opening the refrigerator up. He stood much taller than it. You crept hesitantly behind him, sitting down on one of the bar stools nestled up next to the kitchen island.

"I suppose I should ask first, are you a vegetarian? Any allergies? Do you actually eat?"

"I- yeah I need to eat." You said, looking around at the kitchen.

"Then why have you been feeding off people from the beach for the past few years?" He asked clinically. Damn, he doesn't beat around the bush, does he?

Your eyes widened in shock, had it really been years? You counted the amount of winters you'd been through... about six. Had he been following you? Watching you?

"How did you know?" You whispered, ashamed.

"I'd been tracking the happenings down on that beach for a while, trying to figure out what was going on, why people were losing their memories at the beach, ending up with bite marks, feeling weaker. The thing that made me curious was that no one ended up dead or very injured..."

"I would never want to kill anybody," you whispered meekly... "I did what I had to do to survive..."

"Well tell me then," He said, pulling out some ingredients from the fridge and plopping them on the counter. "What exactly is it you need to survive?"