Long-time Coming: All Might x Reader (Oneshot povs)

pov: the brutal truth of loving All Might

pov: the brutal truth of loving All Might
genre: fluff & angst ( what a combo)

You found the light in me that I couldn't find
- Lady Gaga

51:03

"Toshi?"

"Hi," he says. You and Toshinori are just outside your parents' home. It was midnight and the pavement glowed because of the rain that early evening.

"Are you. . .  " You blink fast and swallowed the lump in your throat. "Are you all right?"

"Yes," he says, moving closer to you for an embrace. "I'm fine. You worry too much."

The space between you and Yagi seems to expand and contract at the same time.

"I heard. . .  the news said you were okay. I mean, you're All Might but— you almost died." You mumble. Your eyes won't stop staring at him.

He shrugged. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks.

"Like what?"

The blond frowns. "Like that. Like you want to run away."

"I don't. . .  " You clear your throat and turn away. "I have to go."

"Go?" he says, shocked.  "The last time I saw you, it's been a month and now you're leaving?"

You stumble away from him, from the promise of comfort,  the warmth of his arms around you. You can't have it anymore. You have to let him go.

He calls your name, ". . .  stop."

Your body obeys, even if your brain is screaming at you not to. You hear the scrape of the rubber of the soles of his flip-flops, feel the gentle touch of his hand on your shoulder. "What's going on?" he asks.

You slip out of his grasp and turn around. "We can't keep seeing each other."

The Number One Hero looks stunned. For one moment, he is a statue mounted in his honor. Then he comes to life and takes a step back. He looks around, at the concrete littered with puddles here and there, at the houses in the neighborhood and their lit up square windows, at the streetlamp flickering once or twice, as if there's something around here could tell him what to do, what to say. He closes his sunken blue eyes and then he opens them, something cracks in his expression— for a fleeting instant, you see hurt and resignment. Then he smooths out his face as neatly as his muscles and form does whenever he uses his quirk to buff up and become his hero persona.

"Very well," he says. He sound pleasant, detached.

"I—I'm sorry," you whisper. Now that you said it, you wish to take it back. You don't like this Toshinori, the polite mask, well-mannered hero. It's the public's All Might, not your Toshi.

"If you will excuse me, it is late. I'll be on my way." He brushes past you and you instinctively grab his arm.

"Toshi, wait—"

He places his other hand to yours and gently guided your hand away.

"No," he shakes his head. Now you can feel his anger—it radiates off him in waves but he still manages to be gentle. "You do not get to tell me what to do. You have lost that privilege."