May Not Be Biological | Platonic Stepdad!All Might X Reader

May Not Be Biological

A/N: If you know me for my dark content, surprisingly enough, this one is strictly platonic. No sexy stuff here, no sir. Just a sad asf reader being comforted by her rad step dad lmao

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He's hard to hate. It seems so easy to just turn around and be nice- you were sure that'd make your mother's life easier, but you're a teenager. You're full of anger and you're stubborn, so of course you want to hate him. No one blames you for that. You're delicate and tired, you're untrusting and scared, and a big change is the last thing you need right now. Unfortunately, fate doesn't care about your mental state, or what you need and don't. Fate doesn't give a fuck about your feelings. Fate makes your dad cheat on your mom with a woman- a girl 15 years his senior. Fate sends you spiraling into a depressive episode because nothing makes sense anymore, and you just want things to be normal again, and- and-

And fate led him to your mom.

He's tall and skinny. If you had to describe his appearance in one word you'd use "spindly", in a Tim Burton way. His clothes are too baggy for his form and he shrinks in on himself- hunched over like he wants to be small. Not like that's possible, though. He's a beanpole of a man standing high at 7 feet and 2 inches. He always has to duck when he enters your house and he's eye level with your tv while you and your mom have to look up. His hair is fluffy and your mom takes great joy in pinning back the two long strands in the front with obnoxiously colorful hair clips. He'd always laugh along, eyes crinkling kindly, and a small smile on his face. His height and his appearance was threatening- large and scary. But as you watched him speak with your mother, he just looked warm, and nice. He looked like he'd give really good hugs.

You have no idea how long it's been since you've had a hug.

But he's new, and he's different, and he's strange, and he's not your dad. He'll never be your dad. You don't know why you stick with that reasoning, your dad's a deadbeat that you haven't seen for a year and already has a kid with the girl he ran away with. You've already been replaced in his end of things, so why can't you let go? Why can't you just stop being stubborn? Stop gripping so hard on a thumb that doesn't want you there. No amount of one, two, three squeezes will make him squeeze back. He hasn't called you that nickname since you were a baby, what makes you think he'll call you it now? What in your puny fucking mind makes you even hope for a goddamn second that he still wants you? He doesn't hear about you, he doesn't want to hear about you. You think he talks about the award you won at school with his work buddies? About how he's been showing you his music taste and loves seeing you enjoy things he did when he was your age? No. No he doesn't.

But Toshinori does.

Everyone at his work hears about you all the time. Aizawa and Yamada and Nemuri and his students and everyone knows about what you do. Toshinori shows his friends the picture of you and your mother from Facebook, Toshinori exclaims happily about how you aced the test you were nervous for, Toshinori cares about you. Even if you don't return the favor. He holds out that olive branch time and time again but never grows discouraged when you shy away, when you lash out and slap it out of his feeble and bony hands with screams of "you're not my dad!" He'll be patient, he'll wait for you. He'll sit and stay even when his arm grows weary and his grip becomes weak from keeping that branch tucked into his palm.

Maybe, just maybe you can accept it? Will you crawl from your denial and anger? Will you let your scarred and scabbed fingers slide over the waxy leaves, and grip? Will you hold on hard and long enough for him to tug you away from the dark and musty cave you banished yourself to? Will you let the sobs heave out of your broken heart, will you allow your shoulders to shake with a vulnerability you've never let anyone see? Will you let Toshinori see you?

Let him pull you into his impossibly large lap, burrow in his bony chest for comfort as his long, gangly arms wrap around you in what feels to be a million times over. Cry, let all of it out. Free those emotions you've kept in there for so long. Don't worry about looking like a fool, don't feel stupid even with your puffy cheeks and stuffy nose- because he doesn't care. He loves you all the same no matter what you look or act like. He's long lost the ability to have a child but now he has you! You are a bundle of all he adores, and he would happily cradle you in his arms until the end of the world.

Because while it may not be biological, and he knows he'll always feel off kilter and different, he loves you to the moon and back, and even further if you ask.

Because while it may not be biological, you accepted his olive branch, and that's all he ever needed.