Yaweyyy

Wait-

Shoto Todoroki with such a shy girl.

Someone who flushes being in his presence. Someone who makes it so obvious they have feelings without even meaning to.

It gives him the upper hand in the slightest bit, because even though he is socially blind, he'll trust his gut and his friends. Which all scream that you are utterly in love with him.

He'll lean into you, crowd your space ever so slightly. Watch you squirm. He'd be so sure of himself, so sure of the way he makes you feel.

But when you guys finally get together, the tables turn.

When your hands touch, it isnt yours that drop the pencil but his. It's not you who gets lost in his confidence, it's him.

You definitely get butterflies around him, obviously.

But he's crushing hard. Face going red at any compliment.

He'd be a mess.

I LOVE A MAN IN LOVE

TWENTY-SIX MONTHS

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.

— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader

— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au

— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch

— word count. 8.2k

— requested? no

— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))

Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.

You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.

For you, he was everything.

For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.

He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.

Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.

The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.

After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.

The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.

You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.

Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.

For his sake.

You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.

As a family.

Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.

Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.

A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.

You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.

You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white. 

You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.

You didn’t know if he was alive.

The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes. 

The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him. 

You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.

Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.

Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret. 

Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.

Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.

“Da… Dada…”

You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.

“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.

The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.

While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.

“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”

“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”

“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”

You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.

You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.

Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.

Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.

Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.

The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.

The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.

He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.

He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.

“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”

Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.

You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.

As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.

“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”

Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.

“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.

Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.

“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”

His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.

And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.

“Dada…!”

The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.

Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.

Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.

“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”

Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.

Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.

Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”

You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.

Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.

“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you. 

The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.

He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.

His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.

When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.

“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is. 

Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”

You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.

“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.

“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.

Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”

With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”

“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child.  “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.

“Shoto, no,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”

“Then why?” he breathes.

You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”

Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”

“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.

After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.

Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.

Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”

You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”

“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.

“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”

Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.

Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.

“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.

“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.

With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.

“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”

He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”

You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”

Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”

Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”

“Shoto—”

“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”

You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”

“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”

Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”

“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”

With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”

Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”

A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”

“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”

You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.

Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”

Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”

You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.

Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.

“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”

Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.

His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.

Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.

Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.

“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory. 

You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.

A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements. 

You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.

His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss. 

“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently. 

Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.

“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”

Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”

When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?

He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.

When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”

“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.

Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”

Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.

Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”

Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”

He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.” 

Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply. 

“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”

“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”

His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. “Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”

Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.

His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.

Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern. 

Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”

You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows. 

“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”

Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum. 

Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.

“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.

You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.” 

Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest. 

Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.

Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”

He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.” 

His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”

Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”

Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you. 

Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”

Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”

His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.

His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you. 

Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead. 

“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”

Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.

“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”

“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”

You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”

Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.

Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”

Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”

Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”

You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.

A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.

©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.

I LOVE THISSSS

##/ anything with shoto todoroki

in which todoroki would do anything to get your attention, even denki’s foolish requests

another small drabble, not spell checked or anything so sorry, just whipped this up. gn reader.

shoto todoroki is very inept when it comes to romantic relationships, feelings and anything for the sort, emotions were not one of the things drilled into him as a child - despite him being a quite emotional one during his extremely early ages.

as a result, his crush with you had been a very turbulent ride, contrasted with the lack of progress and lined awkward silence between the both of you.

denki, the evil guy himself, decides to take advantage of this.

shoto regularly asks the guys for advice as soon as it became known he had feelings for you.

“i swear to fucking god, if you ask me this bullshit again i’ll tell her you kick puppies for a living, icy hot!” katsuki’s roars as he angrily fits his shirt on.

“kacchan relax! sorry shoto, maybe just tell her directly?” izuku advises.

“but… how?” shoto responds, head tilting slightly.

all the boys sweat-drop at him, amazed at how shoto is oblivious to the fact that even if he were to tell you to lick his shoes you would do it in a heartbeat, anyone would with a face card like his.

denki has had enough of this, how shoto is literally a walking model magazine yet doesn’t even know it, making all the boys feel like shit when asking them advice on how to get a girl when they haven’t gotten any dates in their whole lifetime?

i mean, has shoto even seen the edits?

“i have an idea.” denki smiles.

“oh dear god”

“HAHA DUNCE FACE FINALLY USES THAT PEA BRAIN OF HIS!”

“let him cook guys”

“ah hell nah, he damn near burn the kitchen.”

“HAHAHAHA!”

“yeah ok, let’s all hate the really cool guy!” denki sulks.

shoto walks towards denki, indicating that he wanted to listen to him. in all honesty, he felt as though denki knew the most of about romance, more than any of the other guys anyways.

denki’s face lit up, immediately leaning in to whisper into shoto’s ear.

“really? they’d want something like that?” shoto enquires, raising an eyebrow up whilst looking to denki.

denki nodded furiously in response, holding a thumbs up to shoto, not noticing the slightly evil glint in denki’s eyes.

at around 8:00pm, an hour after dinner was served, a knock rang through your dorm.

you reluctantly answered it, already wrapped in your warm duvet blanket (sponsored by shoto todoroki himself).

when opened your door, at first you saw nothing, the darkness of the hallway being the only thing in your line of vision.

then, out of nowhere, an array of phone lights illuminated the hallway, only for shoto todoroki to slide through in a black suit and a red tie, on his knees, with a bouquet of floweres in hands, all the way to your feet, with the song ‘there goes my baby’ by usher playing in the background.

then, as he arrived at your feet, he sultry flipped his hair out of his face and looked dead into your eyes, then said:

“it’s nearly easter and i don’t have my favourite surprise, stop stalling and be mine.” with a monotone yet oddly sexy tone.

the hallway erupted in laughter, including you, as shoto suddenly started to turn red.

he guessed that when denki told him in the locker room, it didn’t seem too weird as he backed it up by saying you reposted a lot of these videos.

but now, as he sat beneath you with flowers in your hand and a cringy pick up line that he’s now sure denki just made up on the spot, shoto felt kinda embarrassed.

but that all washed away when your squatted to meet him, brushed his hair out of his face and kissed him softly on the corner of his lips.

“you’re so corny, you couldn’t just asked me, you know?” you giggled.

“it… wasn’t-“

“trust me, i know. i’ll kill denki for you later, for now, come in.” you winked, pulling him off the ground and into your room.

the hallways cheered and clapped while shoto was bright red in the face, all while sporting a rare dopey smile on his face.

everyone!! you need to read this masterpiece! wew lvove a slowburn romance at 3 am specially when paired with a shuffle playlist that plays the RIGHT song at the exact right moment and it takes u to a diff world??? my honest experience

everything i didn't say

feat: college au, frat boy touya x fem!reader (she pronoun is used)

warnings: drinking (3rd year of uni so everyone is of age), language, heavy suggestive bits (slight nsfw), angst if you squint (miscommuncation and emotional constipation yay)

cache notes: 6k read so buckle in motherfuckers. happy birthday to the love of my life and my favorite man in the whole word <3

m.list

touya was an idiot for falling in love with you. 

you have him wrapped around your finger and you aren’t even aware of it. he didn’t know when these feelings developed, but months ago he realized that the thought of you getting intimate with someone other than him made him want to put a hole in the wall. it was a rough revelation on his conscious, and an even heavier one on his heart. 

because truthfully? the two of you were friends. close friends. best friends. 

he met you during the first few days of freshman orientation– you weren’t talking to anyone nor were you making an effort to, and touya was bored and didn’t find anyone interesting enough to sit down with. all it took was one clever and witty line to win you over (and an offer to sneak out and smoke a joint when the upperclassmen weren’t looking) and the rest was history. 

the two of you did everything together. you were inseparable. any party that the two of you attended you were attached to his hip and vice versa. he was a part of you as you were of him. 

as the years went on, touya and yourself had gotten more… affectionate with one another. you were never afraid to flirt openly with him– he returned it, actually– and touya was not scared to sling an arm around your shoulders or even your waist if he was intoxicated enough. 

it was just how the two of you were. 

even currently, you’re teasing him as he follows you to your dorm room. he’s got his dab pen perched between his pointer finger and thumb, taking rips occasionally as he takes lazy strides behind you. the straps of his bag are loosened all the way, so it hangs low on his back and makes him slouch when wears it. 

“why are you even following me right now?” your head tilts back to look at him. your tone is clearly playful, and if that wasn’t enough; the smirk stretching on your lips was another clear sign. “your dorm is on the other side of campus.” 

touya grunts. there’s a dull itch in the back of his head as he tries not to think about how attractive that grin of yours is. “‘m bored and your company isn’t as bad as i make it seem.” his head turns to the side and his tone lowers to a grumble. “plus i like the view.”

you continue forward, a laugh bubbling from your chest. “ouh,” your voice drawls, dripping with ridicule. “the touya todoroki likes my company? i’m so honored.” 

he scoffs in response, bringing the pen to his lips and takes a good four second rip. he holds in the vapors for a couple more seconds, speaking through the exhale as smoke curls around his cheeks. “i take it back,” his lip curls with mock irritation. “you’re annoying and infuriating and insufferable and–”

he cuts himself off. comes to a complete stop behind you, and it’s involuntary what comes out of his mouth next. 

“gorgeous too.” 

your eyes roll just the slightest bit. “flirt,” you call over your shoulder– but he decides not to comment on it. 

by now the two of you are standing in front of the steps to your dorm building– touya doesn’t remember the majority of the walk there. he was more focused on how the color of your hair matches so well with the palette of the scene outside– it’s fall weather, so the trees look stunning around campus– and how you’d always step on the crunchiest of leaves. touya doesn’t know how you do it every time. maybe you have some special, niche and useless talent. 

but he finds it endearing and it makes his chest twist. 

he watches you take the first step towards the building, his heart stuttering when you choose to tilt towards him. when you’re this close, touya can see the different colored specks in your eyes, the pale dusting of freckles that have faded along your nose. when you’re this close, touya hopes you can’t hear how his breath hitches at the proximity or the roar of his heartbeat in his throat. 

“i’ve got a paper to write,” you murmur, the teasing smirk you were wearing now fading to a fond grin. your eyes roam the length of him, taking in the fact that even though it’s somewhat chilly out; he’s in the thinnest hoodie from his wardrobe and yours is thick enough to rival the michelin man. 

touya hates how his heart falls at your words. his eyes fall downwards, his tone almost brooding in a way. “already ditching me for some damn paper?” his words are light and teasing, his expression is not. “you’re breaking my heart.”

“you,” touya’s brain spins as you lean in even closer when you speak, your tone dropping an octave. your finger reaches out and hooks underneath his chin and touya’s brain lags when you pull him ever so slightly closer. “are too much of a distraction.” 

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

touya freezes. his eyes are laser focused on yours, and he’s pretty sure his lungs have checked out from his body entirely. 

this teasing is normal between the two of you. the both of you are always this affectionate. he curses the day his brain subtly switched from finding this kind of banter amusing to making him want to kiss the everloving shit out of you. 

somehow, he forces himself to speak. his voice is shaky, quieter than normal. “am i, now?”

he hates that he’s close enough to see how your canine digs into the plump flesh of your lower lip. the color of the skin changes due to the light pressure you put on it. he barely registers how your thumb drags along his lower lip before your hand retracts from his chin. 

“yeah, you are.”

touya knows he’s fucked– completely and utterly screwed when you use that tone. you don’t even know that you have him wrapped tight, and at this point he’s too embarrassed to confess it either. 

“you’re teasing me and you know it,” touya murmurs, his voice bordering the line from flustered and frustrated. 

your head tilts. of course you are. it’s your favorite game to play with him, to see who backs down first. usually it’s yourself– you’re always a sucker for touya’s intimidating and soft dominating aura– so it’s a small, but not unwelcome surprise that he’s waving the flag right now. the corner of your mouth curls and you lean in once again, your finger pushes into the plane of his chest where you know his favorite dogtags rest. 

“i’ll text you after i’m done, yeah?” the smirk grows wider when you feel touya’s lithe fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you closer. “we could grab dinner at the dining hall… or hit up that frat party…”

you’re evil, touya’s thinking to himself. so fucking evil. your lips have just barely grazed his with that offer, and despite how soft and gentle your voice sounded; a shudder ran down his spine. he always imagines this tone of yours well and late into the night, whispered into his ear as the two of you settle into his mattress–

touya wants to kiss you so bad. 

it’d be so easy too.  all he has to do is lean forward ever so slightly and his lips would be flush against yours and the two of you wouldn’t be playing this stupid cat and mouse game anymore. it would cross a line, yes; he’s aware of that, but he’s tired. he wants to give in so fucking badly. 

but all he can do is stutter in response. “yeah, that sounds good.” 

your finger travels up the firm expanse of his chest before curling under his chin again. at this point, you’re taunting him to cross the line. your lips are so close to his that they are dancing that dangerous edge of making contact with his own. 

“i’ll text you,” you murmur, your eyes bounce between his lips to his sharp sapphire gaze. 

his hand tightens ever so slightly around your wrist, head tilting as his eyes roam your features intently. “fucking cock tease,” touya mutters before he can even think about the words coming out of his mouth. 

that makes a laugh bubble straight from your chest. it stings in ways that touya doesn’t like, his expression melting to a small scowl. you act like this is a harmless game– it is, to you– and that only causes touya’s chest to squeeze tighter. you would not be treating him like some toy if you knew there was something deeper than what touya let on. “lewd,” you reply, your tone light. “cock tease, really?”

touya let out the smallest breath he would allow himself to take and lifts his other hand to grasp your chin. his touch is gentle, but firm– it keeps you locked in place. the pads of his fingers are warm, calloused; you wonder if he’s picked up the guitar again in the times that you don’t spend with him. “stop teasing me,” he practically hisses, “just kiss me already.”

would touya believe you if you told him you’ve been wanting to since second semester of freshman year? probably not. he prides himself in being observant, but he’s oblivious to certain signs when it comes from you. 

“you’re so demanding,” you giggle. to him, the noise is soft, low, alluring– teasing– it makes him grit his teeth. but to you, it’s a way to satiate the bundle of nerves that had been festering in your gut the moment you leaned in. 

touya is so close to tasting you. he can feel your lips part against his, ghosting over his own in some sick way of further testing his patience. he can feel the warmth of your breath mixing with his, causing his eyelids to flit shut. 

and then his phone rings. 

and you pull away. 

he’s so stunned from the whiplash that all he can do is stand and watch you bound up the steps toward your dorm building, waving your fingers in that stupid little flirty wave you do. touya finds new swears as his phone continues to ring in his back pocket, but his eyes do not leave your form until you’re passing through the front door. you call out a final time that you’ll text him, and all he can do is produce a weak wave in response. 

-

touya’s never really put much effort into how he’s dressed before. he knows he’s somewhat decent looking– i mean, you do sound genuine enough when you flirt with him, that has to count for something, right? but he decided normal attire isn’t going to cut it tonight. he wants to impress you. make you come crawling to him and hang onto him like always do when you drink. 

he changed his outfit four times before ringing the dumb blonde he calls his friend– keigo always had better style than him surprisingly– which led to the discussion on why touya was so hellbent on looking good for the night. “you’re gonna ditch us for your little secret girlfriend, aren’t you, ‘roki?” 

touya’s lip curls at the nickname but doesn’t correct him on it. keigo uses it regardless of the hundreds of times touya has told him he hated it. “we aren’t dating, you know that,” he scoffs. there’s a twinge inside of him that soars at the idea of you being his girlfriend. 

“right, right,” keigo muses on the other side of the phone. “you aren’t official,” and at touya’s scoff in response; keigo argues back, “what? you go see her every day, you bring her little gifts, take her out to lunch… i’d say that’s some boyfriend level behavior right there, touya.” 

touya is thankful that he cut the videochat a while back ago. a flush creeps up his neck and he curses internally. “you’re the worst,” he mutters, chewing at the inside of his cheek. 

keigo laughs. “i’m right, aren’t i? you definitely like her.” 

touya wanted to snap back and say he didn’t, but it’s not that he wanted to deny it. he’d been pining over you for almost two and a half years now, is it really honest to boil all of that down to a simple… like? touya has to be honest with himself. he loves you. 

the revelation makes him want to vomit and throw his fist into the wall. 

keigo continues to ramble on. “why don’t you just make it official at this point?”

he scoffs in response to that. “it’s complicated.” 

“what, is this highschool?” keigo laughs. he sounds mocking and condescending, but touya knows he’s right. “how is it complicated? you’ve known her for years. she likes you too, idiot. pretty sure she’s just waiting for you to ask her out at this point.” 

it feels like keigo is giving him false hope. he wants to believe that your flirting is a genuine show, that you’re taunting him into taking the first step into new territory. he wants to believe that if he does take that first step that you’ll be by his side the further he dives in. he wants to believe it. he craves it. 

“she is coming tonight, isn’t she?” keigo presses. there’s shuffling noises from his side of the phone, it sounds like he’s also in the process of getting ready as well.

you had texted him a bit ago, letting him know when you finished your paper– as promised – and he had offered an invitation to the party tonight. it was an open event, he didn’t need to invite you— but it felt so much more intimate and personal when he asked you to come himself. he practically leapt out of bed when he got your confirmation, as embarrassing as it is to admit that to himself. 

“yeah,” touya assures quietly, “she is.”

keigo responds with a click of his tongue, a low chuckle echoing out through touya’s receiver. “that explains it,” he muses, “explains it a lot.” 

touya fiddles with the chain at his hip– a pick from keigo that he went along with just for the hell of it. he had nagged at the blonde for helping him choose an outfit that looked a bit darker than his normal attire (touya wasn’t trying to go for the emo look) but he does look good. with his hair hanging past his ears and the dogtags around his neck, he still has the touches that make it distinctly him– but he clearly looks like he put in effort. 

“explains what?” touya’s lips purse. 

“you actually called me for advice,” keigo laughs in response. “you are clearly trying to score tonight.” 

touya doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed or not that keigo calls him out on it. 

-

from the looks of it, you like touya’s choice in clothing. you haven’t said a word to him, but he can feel the lingering stares– he knows you can feel his eyes on you as well. the two of you haven’t been subtle about it at all. it’s getting to the point that keigo rolls his eyes, nudging touya’s leg with his foot with a scoff. “quit eye-fucking her already.” 

touya scowls at that comment and swats at the blonde’s chest. he’s nicely faded at the moment, a couple drinks deep and he’s been taking healthy hits of the dab pen he brought with him– for confidence or comfort, he’s not sure what for quite yet. his body feels warm and heavy and light all at the same time. 

in the back of his mind, touya is itching to dance with you. 

he keeps stealing glances. you look so carefree, so happy and relaxed– though part of it is most likely due to the alcohol. your cheeks have a subtle flush to them, a rosy pink that’s visible to him even under the dim house lights. the more you move around, the more sweat clings to your skin and to the fabric of your clothes; it makes the loose strands of your hair stick to your forehead and causes blood to run south in touya’s body. 

he takes several gulps of his beer to calm down. it does not help at all. 

he manages to catch you later in the night. he’s on his way back from the kitchen, a fresh cup of whatever mixture keigo and rumi convinced him to drink– it’s fruity and sweet, its a drink you would like more than him– when he catches you leaning against the wall that overlooks the rest of the larger room where a crowd has formed in front of the mock dj stand. 

touya’s chest squeezes at the sight of you. even from behind, you look stunning– your ass looks amazing in those jeans you’re wearing, but he tries to ignore that– and he struggles to keep his eyes off of you. maybe it’s the intoxication, maybe it’s both making the emotions and feelings rush to the surface so suddenly. 

he slides up next to you, a comfortable but intimate distance between your shoulder and the plane of his chest. touya’s a couple inches taller, tall enough that he can peer over and see just how much is left in your cup. he nudges your shoulder gently, soft enough as to not startle you– you get extremely jumpy the more you drink. 

your head tilts and a lazy smile spreads onto your lips when you register his warmth beside you. “hey,” your voice is low, slurred and incredibly affectionate paired with the way your eyes immediately lock onto his. if touya were sober he would’ve frozen like a deer in headlights at the sight of you. 

but touya is comfortably drunk. comfortable and confident– even if that confidence is a front. his chest still feels tight and his hands shake a little, but if you bring it up he can just blame it on the alcohol. 

“havin’ fun?” he asks, leaning in a bit so you could hear him over the music. you nod slowly, your lips never parting to speak but touya knows you’re feeling good. he juts his chin toward the cup in your hand, “what’cha drinkin’ sweetheart?”

his heart flips at the immediate smile the petname pulls onto your lips. “jack ‘n coke,” you mumble, holding the cup out towards him. the smirk on his lips falters just the slightest bit when the two of you swap cups. you’re drinking his usual. and he’s drinking something you would usually drink. 

touya takes a sip from your cup and immediately feels the familiar burn of whiskey climb down his throat and settle into the bottom of his stomach. he knows you don’t like whiskey. dark liquor makes you do strange things, he remembers. that’s why you stick to clear alcohol, the cocktails and fruitier flavored drinks. 

but instead of you doing something odd, it’s touya. your attention is back on the crowd when he opens his mouth. “how come we’ve never hooked up?”

touya doesn’t register the words until you’re practically spitting your drink out into your hand with a baffled expression. “touya!”

his eyes are wide, and he can’t help the little tingle that runs down his spine at the way you say his name. he coughs a little, trying to ease the awkwardness as best he can. “you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it at least once.”

“have you?”

his heart is in his throat. yes i have, he wants to confess, multiple times. i think about you in my bed almost every night, and not just being naked and panting after i’m done with you, but just laying next to me while we listen to my noisy ass neighbors as we try to fall asleep. i think about holding you in the middle of the night to keep warm because my heat sucks in my dorm room.  i think about telling you i love you while holding you under the blankets you always steal from me when you come over to hang out. 

instead, he does something even ballsier. “c’mere,” he murmurs, tugging on your wrist. he doesn’t expect you to follow him, considering he just implied sleeping together but when he looks over his shoulder you are trailing behind him, peeking at your feet as you walk as if you don’t trust your footing at all. he remembers you hide your soberness well when you’re still. 

in a swift movement, he tugs you to the left; towards a bathroom that’s hardly ever used. your vision goes fuzzy with the sudden jolt, but touya’s hands are there on your hips before you stumble over completely, which gives him the perfect opportunity to place you ontop of the sink countertop. his hand is firm as he lets it rest on your thigh, leaning over to flip the lock on the bathroom door. 

that sound has a sobering effect on your conscious. “touya–” you suddenly blurt out, your nerves clenching tight in your gut and a heavier flush spreading along your cheeks. “i don’t want to hook up–”

you see touya tense visibly in front of you. his fingers twitch along your thigh, and his head doesn’t lift for a couple of moments. 

you realize how it sounds, after following him to a secluded area when he challenged the idea of you two getting more intimate. it sounds bad. your hands slap over your face, covering the rosy tint that has spread to the rest of your face with an anguished cry. “that’s not what i mean! not like that– i just–”

touya snorts in response. he can’t help it really, seeing you rattled when you’re normally so calm and collected around him forces a laugh to bubble from his chest. “why are you so flustered right now?” he teases, feeling a small flow of confidence enter his bloodstream. his hands glide along your thighs until they rest comfortably on your hips. “we’re just in a bathroom.”

“i panicked,” you whine a little. your hands lower so your eyes could meet his. your lower lip juts out and touya’s smirk grows wider. “don’t laugh at me.”

“i can’t help it,” he chuckles, the sound low and it vibrates down to your chest. “it’s too cute seeing you all shaken.” his thumbs dig into your sides as he leans in, caging you on top of the sink with his arms. “what’re you panicking for?” he murmurs, his tone gentle and surprisingly soothing given the shit-eating grin on his lips. he lifts a hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i thought we were…” your voice trails off, but your eyes are locked onto his. touya’s being bold, strangely affectionate– for him, that is– and it causes something to settle in the bottom of your gut. his hand lingers around your jaw, so you take it as a green flag to lift your own palms to his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt with shaky fingertips. “i didn’t want to… do something… stupid. to us.” 

oh. 

touya feels that confidence in his bones get ripped straight from under his skin. his heart skips a beat and his eyes flicker from your own to your lips. “what do you mean, ‘something stupid’?” 

he thought he would be more prepared if this conversation were to ever happen. hell– he thought he’d be sober when you two finally delved into what exactly the two of you were. he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart rate is behind his ribcage. 

“do you think we’d mess up our friendship if we… did do something?”

you head nods almost automatically– albeit slowly, due to your foggy brain due to the alcohol– and something in touya’s expression falls. its subtle, but you know touya. you saw it even through the swimming lines in your vision. 

your teeth catch onto your lower lip, a nervous habit that you have never been able to break. touya’s hand lifts and cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lip. “stop biting.”

the action and command sends a shiver down your spine. your lips press together and you try hard to resist the urge to continue chewing on your lip. “touya…” his name is a barely audible mumble coming out of your mouth, your eyes stay locked on his. 

you barely hear the hum that echoes out of his chest. you can’t get over how… softly he’s looking at you. you’ve known touya todoroki for all of three years– since freshman year of uni– he’s never looked at you like this before. it’s different from the usual looks he gives you when it’s just the two of you, different from when it’s those late nights out at the park when he actually shares a blunt with you. he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon– like you’re the stars and he’s witnessing them for the first time. 

that aloof facade is breaking more and more the longer your eyes don’t stray apart from one another. “why are you so nervous?” you don’t have to dig deeper to know he’s not just talking about having sex with you. he’s talking about the relationship. 

“pretty sure i’m in love with you,” your voice is a whisper, barely audible. your head leans in and your forehead rests against his and his nose is warm against your own. you can smell the sweetness of the drink he shared with you on his breath and it’s intoxicating enough to make your eyes flutter shut to say the least. you loved sweet drinks. “i– i think i love you– i…” 

for touya, the world stops. the noise of the party fades, he doesn’t even hear the roar of his blood pumping in his ears. his hands tighten their hold on your hips, tugging you ever so slightly closer towards him and he closes the distance between your lips. 

his hands slide under your shirt, resting on your bare waist and the small of your back, his touch searing against the chilliness of your skin. he pours so much emotion into this kiss, saying the words he’s been too afraid of saying for months now with the touch of his mouth against yours. he can feel the blood pumping again when he feels your arms sling around his neck, returning the kiss just as eagerly. 

it’s as if simultaneously the both of you have said; no more teasing, no more games– no more playing around. 

touya groans as he feels you melt against him, the sigh you let out against his mouth probably the hottest thing he’s witnessed from you. he needs more. he’s allowed to be greedy now– he’s waited long enough. 

one of his hands leaves your waist to tangle into your hair, tugging and smirking at the soft gasp it elicits from your mouth. it angles your head back and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further. 

“does this mean,” you’re mumbling against his mouth and touya wishes you’d stop talking so he could focus on just kissing you– “that you… you–” your hands delve into his hair, unable to finish the sentence. you try to speak, but everytime you find an opening to say words, his hands or lips move in a way that make your knees weak. 

“if you can’t finish the damn sentence, i’ll do it,” he speaks through kisses, his hands roaming your skin under your shirt. “yeah, i love you too. obviously.” 

you’re impatient by now, tugging the front of his shirt as you huff against his lips. your hands slide down his shoulders to his back, digging your nails into his skin just enough to where it bites and feels good. “we’re gonna talk about this more when we’re both sober.”

“you’re so cruel,” he grumbles against your mouth, groaning at the sting from your nails. he pushes further into you, catching your lower lip and biting it. he lifts a hand and moves it to rest at the base of your throat, his fingers splaying across your collarbone. 

the action causes a gasp to leave you. your eyes flutter and he takes the chance slip his tongue into your mouth, humming when yours moves against his. “i don’t want to forget if you drunkenly ask me on a date right now,” you mutter against his mouth. 

the kisses are growing more heated, more insistent. your legs spread more involuntarily to accommodate his body in between them and touya doesn’t need to be told twice before he settles in between them. he keeps a hand firm on your thigh and the other at the base of your neck, continuing to angle your head back. 

“you’re cruel,” he repeats, breathless as he continues to kiss you. “you’d really deny your poor drunken boyfriend a date?”

if the bathroom door shutting didn’t fully sober you up, the word ‘boyfriend’ coming from touya’s mouth certainly finished the job. it short-circuits your brain– causing you to pause and dig your nails in sharply to the skin of his lower back. you let out a shaky exhale that’s easily swallowed by his mouth, your eyes roll backwards from his touch. “no– no, not denying–”

that’s when touya pulls away. there’s a satisfied chuckle that starts in his chest and rumbles past his lips– clearly he used that word on purpose. a cocky smirk spreads onto his lips for a split second before he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your jaw. “then go on a date with me,” he mumbles against your skin. “a proper date, not that stupid ‘hanging out’ bullshit we always do.”

your breath hitches at his tone and the feeling of his lips. “where are you gonna take me?” you ask coyly, your hands dip to his waistline, grazing along the button of his jeans and tugging. 

it’s a dirty trick to distract him. 

it works, but it also doesn’t. his head drops to watch you tug at his jeans and a strangled groan leaves his mouth. when he lifts his head his eyes are shut so tight you think the skin around them has gone white and his teeth are digging into his lower lip. he’s trying very hard to hold himself together. 

“we’re gonna go out for dinner,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “somewhere nice and fancy. then we’re gonna go for a walk–”

“a walk?” your eyebrow lifts, skeptical but when touya shoots you a sharp glare you shrink back ever so slightly with a small, awkward giggle. 

“a walk. a nice, long walk where i can put my arm around you without you running off before i can.”

his statement makes you swallow a lump that’s formed almost too quickly in your throat. your heart beats wildly, jackhammering against your ribcage it’s a wonder he can’t hear it or even see it bouncing against your chest. “‘m not gonna run this time,” you find yourself whispering. 

your nose brushes against his when you lean in once more and you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. you pop the button on his jeans without another word and touya melts. the sound that leaves his mouth is a mix of a sigh and moan but it’s so low and hot it sends scorching sparks down your spine. your breath stutters in your throat the noise. 

“jesus christ,” he hisses, but there’s no venom to it. his hands latch around your thighs and he tugs you closer towards him. being this close to him, you can feel the way his jeans strain against his body now that you’ve unbuttoned them and the heat is sweltering between the lower half of your bodies. he grips your thighs even tighter, his thumbs bruising into the flesh. “when i said ‘dinner and a walk’, i did not mean ‘dinner and a quickie in the bathroom of a frat party’.” 

his voice shakes ever so slightly and it causes the corner of your mouth to lift. “tell me to stop,” you mumble, your breathing heavy against his jaw. you litter the skin with heated kisses, your fingers hesitant as they inch the fabric of his jeans down his hips agonizingly slow. “we can go to dinner and a walk tomorrow after we wake up–”

one of his hands grips the sink next to your thighs, his knuckles are white. he knows he shouldn’t push farther with you– even if it’s something the both of you want. but both of you are drunk, so fucking drunk and in the bathroom of a frat party for fucks sake and he was hoping his first time with you would be so much more intimate and special– “damn you,” he whispers, letting out a shaky exhale. “stop. stop.” 

it takes a hell of a lot of restraint to pull away from him. 

but you do. you withdrawal your hands, letting them hover around his hips before the settle onto the sink on either side of your hips. one hand clasps over touya’s and you give him a reassuring squeeze– trying to say the words you can’t voice at the moment. 

a breathless ‘fuck’ falls from touya’s mouth the moment you pull away. his cerulean gaze finds yours again– studying your expression for several beats of silence before he steps closer again. “you don’t know how hard it was to have to tell you to stop,” he grouses, using a hand to yank his jeans back over his hips, securing the button clumsily. his chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. “you better hope noone finds out we’re in a bathroom together. we’re never gonna hear the end of it if they do. especially if they find out we did anything.”

your cheeks burn a little at touya’s rambling. “what,” you scoff, playing it off as a laugh, though your eyes refuse to meet his. “embarrassed to get caught in here with me?” 

touya mocks your scoff in return. he can’t help the sass in his response, not caring about how it comes out of his mouth. “more embarrassed to get caught in you,” he muttered, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “do you know how embarrassing that would be?” 

Your eyebrow lifts. Your head tilts, expression almost incredulous. “haven’t you hooked up with girls at parties before?” your eyes scan his expression, eyes narrowing into a glare almost. “what’s so embarrassing about me?”

shit. 

touya’s words get caught in his throat. his heart feels like it’s leapt out of his chest and is doing freestyle dance moves on your lap just to taunt him. he feels like an idiot, he sounds like an idiot. he knows just from your expression. 

“it’s… it’s different,” he says after an awkward bout of silence. “you’re you.”

i’ve been crushing on you since freshman year, and i don’t want to get caught in here and people assuming that i’m taking advantage of you because we’re both drunk–

your tongue presses between your lips and your eyes finally meet his. a single finger of yours reaches out, tugging the hem of his shirt to pull him closer and touya follows willingly. he’s close enough that your faces are inches apart again, your nose knocking against his and lips brushing against his with each word. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you murmur lowly. 

he swallows visibly. he takes a minute to take in your features– to really look at you. your eyes are still the same shade, but they have a glaze from the alcohol. it makes you look softer– more vulnerable. a side he sees every so often, but he knows the sober sight of this side is something you save just for him. your cheeks have a specific shade of pink when you blush. 

“it means you’re not just some girl,” he eventually mumbles. “a random girl that i can go and hook up with at a party and just forget about.”

there’s a tense silence between the two of you as you mull over his words. your eyes flick over his lips– swollen and wet from your kisses– before they meet his eyes, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat. “what am i to you?” you ask, your voice low and it’s the first time touya’s heard you be completely serious the entire night. “and don’t just say i’m different or your… girlfriend, touya– what are we?”

touya’s always loved the way you say his name. your voice is so soft, so light and tender, like you’re breathing out clouds or something. his breath stutters and his jaw clenches, tight and tense. his hands find your waist again, and when his eyes find yours he hates just how weak he is for you. how fast and easy you can get him to crumble with just a look. “you’re trying to get me to say something.” 

“i said i loved you, touya,” your head tilts back in exasperation. the grumble that leaves your mouth is irritated and strained and your head tilts away from him to avoid the kiss he so desperately wants to press to your lips. your eyes shut and you mumble; “of course i’m trying to get you to say something.”

touya’s shoulders dip forward a bit when he hears the aggravation in your tone. “i said it back,” he retorts quickly, defensive. “i said i loved you too, do you not believe me?”

his eyes are sharp as they scan over your expression– trying to determine what exactly is going through your brain at the moment. he knows you’re still intoxicated, hell– he is too– but he can’t help but feel like he’s trying to break through a wall that truly doesn’t exist. 

“why is it so hard to put a label on what we are then?” for the first time in a while since the two of you have met, this is the longest the two of you have held direct eye contact. touya’s eyes are still piercing, still intimidating, but they don’t scare you as much anymore. 

for a few moments, the two of you stare at each other. touya can’t help but admire you, since he’s already so close. he still thinks you’re beautiful as the day he met you, and you can’t help but scan the slope of his nose or the curve of his lips. 

when was the last time the two of you truly looked at each other?

“what do you want me to say?” touya speaks after a couple more beats of silence. his brows pinch together. “that… you’re my girlfriend?”

you can see how he hesitates with the word. it’s not that he didn’t want to say it, but it feels weird on his tongue. he’s never really had a dating life the entire time you’ve known him at uni, so you assume he’s rarely ever used the word. it’s not a word he thought he would be saying. girlfriend. “is that what you want?” his tone drops an octave, softer– he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and you don’t pull away from it. 

“i just want to be yours,” you sigh against his mouth. 

he lets his lips linger on yours for a couple more moments, stealing a few more kisses with gentle hums. his breath is steady and warm against your lips, your words make his chest twist and he doesn’t try to hide how it makes his heart skip. “you’ve always been mine. since freshman year.” his hands travel from your hips to rest at your sides. his touch is tender, his skin warm through the fabric of your clothes and you can’t help the wide smile that spreads onto your lips. 

you’re his. you’ve always been his. even without knowing it. 

“it’s not like i’m good at this relationship crap,” he adds after a moment. his eyes flit between yours and you can see the slightest bit of hesitation behind them. “there’s a lot of things i’ve never done before… but you already know that.”

you do. you know touya like the back of your hand, just like he does you. 

“there’s things even i don’t know how to do,” you mumble back in reassurance. it’s your turn to steal a kiss from his lips, your skin is soft against his. “but i want to learn them. with you.” 

touya melts willingly against your lips. he doesn’t hide it anymore. he loves how soft and addicting your lips are and how gentle the pressure of your mouth is against his own. he returns your peck, brushing past your mouth to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek. “anything you wanna do, i’ll be right there with you.” 

you blush like a fucking school-girl at that. the feeling is so refreshing, the softness from touya is something unexpected but is oh so welcome. 

a small chuckle leaves your mouth, your eyes dropping from his and taking in the scene around you. “so…” 

touya is already a couple steps ahead of you. “cuddle at my place?” when you laugh in response, touya doesn’t hide the wide smile that spreads across his mouth. 

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

ive a new reason to smile today, smile!

010. CARNATIONS

It was all a blur.

Desperate arms wrapped around his frame the moment he stepped into sight. Touya shed more tears than he had in years today, the faces in the back of his mind that were beginning to fade away became crystal clear in an instant. Twin diamonds shine and leave a salty trail down his cheeks when his mother finally hugs him.

She cradled Touya's face in her palms as her fingers rubbed gently against his skin—telling Touya she was so proud of him, telling Touya he looked so healthy—telling Touya she was so happy to see him. Touya smiles when he's sad, and it was truly a sight to behold. His eyes had shards of gold glittering in them as they caught the afternoon sun's rays, and his smile was so handsome and authentic, it looked like the Gods themselves had carved it into his face.

Natsuo wasn't as 'tough' as Touya remembered him. Because the moment Touya cursed his brother out for getting taller than him while he was gone, Natsuo weeped like a newborn. Maybe he was mourning all those years growing up without having his older brother by his side—the years he spent as a teenager thinking he was getting older than his Touya-nii ever got to be.

Fuyumi was strong—she was able to hold Touya up all on her own when he crumped against her, pressing his cheek into the crown of her head as he thanked her for staying shorter than him. Her laughter is wet with tears, but it was just as sweet as he remembered. Natsuo's was too—just seeing them smiling at him felt like they'd ripped past skin and fleshed and pierced Touya's heart with a dagger carved with love.

Shoto's eyes flittered between his siblings and mother—watching them all stand around Touya as he swayed on his feet, unable to hold himself up as they all murmur quietly to each other—there weren't many words spoken, just the occasional sniffling and hiccuping sobs as they fussed over him

Shoto doesn't know when you intertwined your fingers with his to hold his hand, but he'll be forever grateful you did because his chest is so tight he doesn't think he can breathe right. His eyes move fast, rapidly blinking as he watches the scene in front of him unfold from afar

He's never felt more like an outsider than he did right now. He was watching his family show more emotion in this moment than he's ever seen in years. He looks to you for a moment, almost hesitating to step towards them all as his eyes are clouded with an unmistakable mist. You squeeze Shoto's hand encouragingly, and soon enough, he's slipping out of your grasp and gravitating towards Touya.

He's facing Touya's back right now, watching his older brother lean into their mother's palm as she kisses his hands before Shoto clears his throat—an attempt to catch their attention. He can see the muscles in Touya's back physically tense before he turns around. Touya's eyes catch yours first—before they slowly move to Shoto.

Shoto isn't a very good hugger. He's not really sure how to wrap his arms around Touya without it being awkward. Unfortunately—Touya also wasn't a good hugger. He stills when Shoto slowly wraps his arms around him, the younger boy's eyes closing as his face bumps against Touya's chest. Touya's words are stuck in his throat as his mouth goes dry, a strange feeling spreading in his chest as he looks down to see Shoto's ivory and ruby strands pressed against him.

Touya always thought Shoto had grown up to be a carbon copy of their father. He didn't know why, but he never really assumed Shoto may have grown to be a good kid until the war.

So, Touya tries his best. Wrapping his arms around the younger boy and letting out a shaky breath as his eyes squeeze close.

Rei went overboard with dinner. The table was covered with all the classics—rice, grilled fish, miso soup, pickled vegetables—everything and anything you could imagine. Rei was so proud when she saw the look on Touya's face, her heart soaring as her son muttered something along the lines of how good the food looked.

You were Touya's support through the entire dinner as he spoke. Most of the questions he got asked consisted of how he was feeling and adjusting. He answered all of them remarkably well, his voice even and smile calm as he ate his dinner

You sat in between Shoto and Touya, and you almost wish you weren't sitting between them when you watch Shoto lean over the table to look at Touya every time he spoke. It was like he was in a trance as he watched his older brother speak—if Touya noticed Shoto's lingering stare, he didn't say anything.

Shoto wanted to hear every word that came out of Touya's mouth. And luckily, everyone stayed at the dinner table well after dinner was finished. The conversation was nostalgic and calm. It was sad and maybe sometimes Touya would have to blink back tears, but God, he loved it all so much.

Rei was quiet for most of the dinner, save for soft smiles as she listened to Touya talk. Even when he was a kid, Touya talked a lot. She wants to ask Touya if he knows how he subconsciously leans towards you during the entire dinner, whispering things in your ear that have you fighting a smile

It was stupid little jokes he made whenever someone wasn't speaking to him—he'd jump so fast whenever he noticed the attention wasn't on him anymore as his eyes found yours. Unfortunately, Touya didn't notice how his mother's eyes never left him.

She saw it all. The way your eyes crinkled with a smile whenever Touya said something stupid, how Touya offers to fill your glass and how you and him get into a quiet argument on who gets the bigger piece of fish, both of you insisting the other gets the larger half. You two end up sharing, smiling with silent laughter whenever his fork clinks against yours

Rei knows Touya's kindness isn't because of her parenting. It can't be. Touya was an angry and mean child, one who lashed out often and couldn't get along with others.

She had trouble dealing with Touya, and Enji did nothing but worsen his condition. Her own inner turmoil had her mind falling apart, and she had been struggling with the man who was supposed to protect them just as much as Touya was.

You made Touya like this—calming the storm in his heart Rei thought would rage on forever.

When he was Dabi, Touya was even worse. She had seen the news, she knew her first born was alive and wreaking absolute havoc. Years ago, his supposed death had been her breaking point. And, oh, what she would have given to save him from his inevitable fate.

She failed Touya. She and Enji, they had both failed him. Not intentionally—she never meant to fail him the way she did.

But you had not failed Touya, and Rei was going to treasure you forever for unknowingly saving her family.

Rei hadn't experienced real love before. But the way Touya just looks at you lets her know that even if she didn't get the privilege of being able to know what it was like, her son did. And that alone is enough to make her happy.

"Mom?"

Rei is startled, turning to look at Natsuo when he places a hand on her shoulder, dishes in hand. Everyone's dispersed by now, and she realizes she's the only one still at the table.

"You spaced out again." Natsuo says, a sad smile on his face as he gently rubs his mother's shoulder. Rei's lips part as she makes a little 'o' with her mouth, before smiling softly

"Touya's in love."

Natsuo blinks once, twice, before his lip twitches upward. He slides into the spot beside his mother, leaning in closer as he takes a quick glance at you and Touya—who was marveling over the endless channels on the big screen TV that was placed in the center of the living room, your laughter flowing through the air at his excited commentary—he was pointing out all of his favorite movies as a kid.

"I know. Just...try not to say anything to them, okay? It's definitely not something either of them can pursue yet. Bringing it up in front of them isn't the best idea right now." He mutters quietly as Rei nods slowly, the gears in her mind shifting as she stays quiet in thought. Fuyumi calls Natsuo from the kitchen, asking him to bring the remaining dishes as he quickly stands up, following her voice.

Shoto pretends he wasn't able to hear Natsuo as he keeps his head low, piling the remaining dishes into his arms before strolling after his older brother. Of course, you had offered to help clean up like a good guest earlier—but Fuyumi had shooed you and Touya away before either of you got the chance, telling you to get comfortable in the living room.

Rei tilts her head to try and get a better look at you. Maybe she's getting ahead of herself, but Rei's thinking of the silver wedding band laying on the edge of her vanity. It was a ring that meant nothing, never had when it was slipped onto her finger

But it was a beautiful ring.

She wished it had been spent on a truer love. On something real and tangible, something as beautiful as the delicate diamonds encrusted into it. She zeroes in on your fingers, watching the way they curl around the TV's remote as you dangle it out of Touya's reach. He growls and grunts in an attempt to snatch it back from you, his laughter peaking through his facade easily as your squeals sound through the air

Yes, your fingers look like they'd fit her ring. She didn't ever think about passing her wedding ring down to one of her children, never even considered the thought. But...

For the first time in so many years, it was laughter that bounced between the walls of this house. It was beginning to feel like a home again.

You and Touya are dancing around such a fine line so carelessly.

Touya doesn't even know he's in love with you. He knows he cares for you, knows you've become the most important person in his life—he knows he loves you in some sense, but it took him a lot longer than he'd like to admit to realize he was in love with you.

He can see the cartoon's reflection in your eyes as you watch the TV right beside him. His body, simply put, was drawn to yours. You're pressed against his side, and he can smell you. You smell sweet, and he resists the urge to sniff you.

The thought is odd. He pauses, blinking at the TV screen but not even absorbing what's going on as his eyes slowly drag towards you. Did he almost sniff you, just now?

Okay. Touya was weird, he already knew that. But when has he ever wanted to sniff someone? That was just fucking weird. Suddenly, he starts thinking—and it feels like he's been carelessly missing the ON button in the back of his mind, and it had finally been switched on my some miracle.

He's had these type of thoughts before. Actually—he's had a lot of these thoughts before. He had just...ignored them. Too engrossed in any moment with you to truly acknowledge them.

Yeah, he wants to sniff you. He wants to know what shampoo you use, he wants to know your favorite meal—you know his, when does he find out yours? He wants to know if you have siblings like him, he wants to know if you take cold showers or hot showers, he wants to know if you like his family, he wants to know if you like him the way he likes you.

The realization dawns on him slowly, and Touya realizes he has never been more clueless in his life.

He likes you.

No, not like a patient liked their doctor. And not like how a victim liked their savior—it wasn't like that.

He liked you like he'd die without you, like his heart would cease its beating and he would genuinely be unable to feel any semblance of happiness again if you slipped away

He suddenly realizes you can't like someone that much. It was another feeling, and he was in deep.

"Aw, fuck."

You peer up at him through your lashes, a confused hum leaving your lips as you tilt your head towards him in concern

Touya looks down at you, a small smile splayed on his lips. He thinks, no—he knows he'll never love someone this much.

"You know, I forgot this sucker died at the end." He mumbles quietly, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting it towards the TV as a whine escapes your lips

"Touya! You spoiled it!" You pout, looking at the cartoon and huffing—what kind of kid's movie has anyone dying in it?!

"I'm kidding." He murmurs with a quiet laugh, watching relief flood your features moments later as you tuck yourself back into his side

"Good. I like that little guy."

"The cat?" He muses, leaning further into you as his breath fans your neck

He's so warm. So welcoming and gentle—and you can't even try and stop yourself from leaning further into him.

"Yeah. He reminds me of you."

The cat in question, was a grumpy little thing that spends most of the movie snacking on sweet treats—its belly round and happy from being loved so well. It was a silly little side character, but in an odd way, it reminded you of Touya's little mannerisms. The way it pouted and huffed and cracked the most absurd jokes the entire movie had you smiling ear to ear.

His fingers find your sides quickly, and you try to pry his hands off as he tickles your side mercilessly—adorable huffs of "Touya, everyone's sleeping!" escaping your lips as you try and muffle your laughter, covering your mouth as he pulls your hand away from your lips—saying he wants to hear you squeal and laugh for him.

You get him back, of course. But he doesn't even try to be quiet as you tickle his belly. He laughs loudly, straight from his gut and filled with so much joy that you can't bring yourself to stop

Touya has a really nice laugh, you think, watching him grin so wide—you think it must hurt to be smiling so much. He suddenly hooks a leg over yours, and the both of you roll off of the couch and onto the ground in your fits of laughter—and not once, not ever, has Touya felt more loved.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; something is cominggggg 👀!

tags!

@kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse @starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo

@summercreolefanfictioner @dija200 @phtmmsqrde @sunaraii

@c-lunette @gh0stgirl333 @skullkittens @gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me

@hawkwithsocks @suresnips @sugurusmoon @matchablossomsss @moonlitmorganite

@redr0sewrites @muimuiwisteria @sukunaspillow @starsryi

@eidolonwriter @dabislittlemouse @rueclfer @kelin-is-writing

@shugs1801 @imaginationmess

@lasa27 @sophiathefrog @etaerealboy @kooromin @sourbbyxo

@hvnares @ephmeraloblivion @lost-seraphiim @quokka-ina @jesuschrist2006

@stoned-anime-babe @qatiee @shadowsingers-redhood @alycat171

@21-princess

@xileonaaaa @rylerboi @blurryperrtymoonlight @mrcleans4headwrinkle @accidentpronedork

@exquisitenesss @miniatureempathknightpony @afterlife11

Loved the trope this yn is so relatable

MY KIND OF WOMAN

Touya is the son of your fathers greatest business rival. You’re supposed to hate him, but you definitely dont.

No quirks, forbidden romance

—————————————————————————-

Touya Todoroki looks good tonight.

You feel guilty the second the thought enters your brain, like your father might be hearing it. He doesn’t want you talking to guys, much like any father, but if there’s any person in the world he’d kill you for even looking at, it’s Touya, the son of his rival company’s owner.

You’re not even sure what it is your fathers do. Something about finance, computers, science. All you know is that it’s a filthy business, and the Todorokis and Tanakas had been at each other's throats for years. If there was one name that had been run through the dirt in your house, it was Todoroki. Enji had done this, he’d stolen this client, taken this deal. You didn’t really care. All you knew was that you were supposed to hate them all, so you did. Especially Touya, because he was next in line to take over the company, and according to local rumours, he was as misbehaved as they come. Which you were supposed to care about, apparently.

But then you actually met him. And you don’t think you hated him at all.

It was, funnily enough, at a company party. Some firm that both sides of this inane war partnered with, and your dad had forced you to go. So you did, in a little black dress and a perfect smile as you walked around with him like the good daughter you were. You greeted the people you were supposed to greet. You smiled at the old ladies who complimented your unblemished skin and laughed at all the weird comments his too old coworkers made. You only finally got away under the guise of using the bathroom. Truthfully, you took to walking around the place they’d rented out, an old auditorium, peering into the empty rooms. They were mostly filled with boxes, extra chairs and storage. But there was one room, with wide windows and boxes of stage equipment, that piqued your interest.

Because it was in that room that you saw Touya. 

He had dark black hair that fell over his eyes, sleeves rolled up while the suit jacket he was supposed to be wearing was abandoned on a chair to the side. He had cracked open a window, and was deftly blowing the smoke from his cigarette out of it. He must have heard your heels clicking against the floor, because as he turned to face you, you noticed the piercings on his eyebrow and septum and his lip. And you also noticed that he was handsome. In an alluring, he’d probably make you fall in love with him then leave you, sort of way. 

You had heard rumours about Touya. Everyone had, to be honest. Your town was small and overridden with gossip, both in your age demographic and your parents. The stuff you’d heard about the man in front of you should’ve been more than enough to steer you away, that and all your fathers warnings. But the party was boring, and you were still a little pissed at your dad for making you come, so you decided your definitely entertain this.

He tilted his head, and the cigarette burned between his fingers.

“I know you. You’re Tanaka’s daughter.” His voice was low and deep, rumbling in his chest as he eyed you.

You nodded, taking another step in the room. “In the flesh. I’m not supposed to be talking to you.” You smile.

Touya’s lips curled into a smile. “Shame.” He took another puff of his cigarette. “You just going to stand there then?”

You walked forward until you were next to him. You pointed at the cigarette. 

“You got another?”

He hummed. “No. We can share, though.”

He held it out to you, and you took it easily, taking a long slow drag. You sighed, blowing the smoke out the window.

“We basically just kissed.” 

You shot him an amused glance. “Are you twelve?”

“No. Eighteen. Just like you.” 

Touya crossed his arms on the ledge of the window. Like that, the setting sun casted shadows across his face, the flattering blue of his eyes almost glowing as he turned to look at you.

You leant against the wall, avoiding eye contact. “Should I be concerned that you know that?”

“No. I’m sure you know as well as I do how much our fathers love talking about each other.”

You snorted a laugh. “God, he’d kill me if he saw me with you right now.” 

Touya pouted. “I’m not that bad. I’m nice. I’m even sharing it with you.” He reached out his hand to grab the cigarette and you passed it to him, your fingers brushing.

“Mhm. I'll be sure to tell him how kind you were to smoke with me.” You nodded sympathetically, and he grinned something dangerous.

It was all sort of the end after that.

You started to run into him a lot more. While he didn’t go to the local school like you, but the two of you lived in the same neighbourhood. You went to the library to study and there he was, with a blonde haired girl who nearly got kicked out for talking too much. You stopped at the mall to grab some clothes and there he was with the blonde hair boy from school who’s always chatting girls up. 

And every time he’d stop you just before you left, entice you with good conversation and a cigarette outside. And who were you to deny it? He was good conversation. He had good taste in music, and he made you laugh. You’d started hoping that you’d run into him more every time you left the house. And yes,  maybe you started to develop a teensy little crush on him. It didn’t help when he slipped you his phone number one day.

You’d just gotten out of your car, about to fill it up at the gas station, when you heard the rev of a motorcycle and a shout.

“Hey! Tanaka!” 

You turned to the source of the voice to see Touya hopping off his bike. You assumed it was his bike. He’d mentioned it a couple times, and the sleek metal and soft leather seats looked pretty close to his very detailed descriptions. He took his helmet off and god, the mess of his hair and the pink of his cheeks had you smiling instantly. You lock your car door and wave.

“Hiya. What are you doing here?”

He tapped the back of his bike. “Fuelling her up.” He looks down at your car.

“Nice ride.”

You rolled your eyes. It is definitely not a nice ride. Unfortunately you got the kind of rich parents that wanted you to earn money the old fashioned way, which included using your shitty part time job to pay for your first car. 

“It’s safer than that death machine.” You raised your eyebrows at his bike and he smoothed his hands over her.

“Aw, lighten up. She’s safe enough. And she’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

You rolled your eyes, finishing up filling your car, but you couldn’t help the little smile on your face. “It’s a machine, Touya. You can’t hurt her feelings.”

You started walking towards the store to pay, and he immediately followed, twirling his keys on his finger. “So where are you headed?”

“Home. Just finished work.”

Touya tilted his head. He held the door open for you and you walked in, quietly thanking him. He’s tall, so he had no issue reaching over and pushing it open before you even could touch the handle.

“Work? Where do you work?”

The store was empty, apart from an blred looking employee fiddling with the cash register. You eyed the chocolate bars and he watched you do so, standing a little closer than normal. “I work at that bookshop on Green street.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You know it?” You grab a pack of m&ms. 

Touya nodded. You both walked over to the fridges, and he slid the door open and you grabbed a can of coke. You pull your hoodie sleeves over your hands. “Yeah. My sister’s always in there.” He said.

You hum. “I probably know her.”

“Not better than me, I hope. I should be the only Todoroki in your life.” He pouted and you snorted a laugh.

“Oh, don’t worry, you are.” 

Touya grabbed a red bull and the two of you walked to the counter. Touya queued first, and you watched him fumble in his pockets for his wallet, and come up empty. He looked up sheepishly at the cashier.

“Shit. I left my wallet at home.” He turned to you with an apologetic look on his face. “You have a dollar?”

You smiled, stepping forward. Touya protested as you asked the cashier to ring you up too, but you batted his hands away. He huffed next to you and you rolled your eyes.

“Consider this repayment for that cigarette.” You grinned, tapping your card.

Touya walked you the short distance back to your car. “Does this make you my sugar mommy?”

“Ew, Touya! That’s gross. I’ll take the red bull back.”

Touya laughed loudly. “If you want. I’ve already slobbered all over it though.”

“I think I’ve shared enough cigarettes with you to not care about that.”

You dug in your purse for your car keys, key rings jingling as you unlocked it.

“I guess this is goodbye once more.”

“It sure is, Tanaka.”

Before you could get in it though, he stopped you, hand circling your wrist. His fingers were wet with condensation from the red bull, and you noticed how easily they wrapped around you.

“Wait. Give me your phone.”

You looked at him in confusion. “What, you leave that at home too?”

“Ha ha. No. Just give it. Come on, babe.”

You sighed reluctantly, but dug it out of your pocket nonetheless. “Don’t call me babe.”

“You prefer baby?”

“I prefer Y/N.”

He did something. You couldn’t even see, but you trusted him, brushing a hair behind you head as you watched him tap away. You heard a chime come from his phone, and when he passed yours back, you saw he’d given you his number.

“Perfect.” 

You tried to hide the smile that was itching to grace your lips. “What was that for?”

He just slipped his helmet on, unashamed of his own grin. “So I can repay you for that Redbull. Give me a time and place, angel.”

“Y/N.”

He brushed you off. “Same thing.”

It was all downhill from there. He beat you in 8 ball IMessage games every night and sent you the dumbest TikToks you’d ever seen in your life, and you loved it. Touya called you when he was at work, on his walks home, while he was doing school stuff. It only made everything more exciting how forbidden it all was. Sneaking around town so nobody saw you two, only meeting late at night. Sure, you had to clamber out your window on the nights your parents were home and awake, but it was all worth it.

And nothing happened. Not yet, at least. It was nice to complain about your parents to somebody who understood, and the two of you got along in every other aspect too. There was that tension that always hung there whenever the two of you hung out. In the backseat of your car, the alleyway behind his house. The little voice that whispered in the back of head for more, for you to bridge that little gap the two of you were teetering on. But you ignored it, because it was bad enough you two were even friends. Let alone anything else.

But good things never last, and you get found out.

It’s after school, once you’d finished the tutoring gig you have on the side for extra credit in history. Your car was at the shop, and your bus decided it didn’t want to show up that day, so you called the only person you knew with a vehicle (and the only person you wanted to call). 

He got here quicker than you thought he would and you frown as the motorbike revs its way into the parking lot. He parked the bike and ripped the helmet off his head. Touya looked far too happy as he hopped off, immediately dumping a helmet in your hands. You quickly text your dad that your friend Rumi was driving you home. It’s not like he’d know. He was at some country club thing across town.

“I knew you’d give in.” He teased.

You pouted and held it for a moment. “I can’t believe I'm going to die at eighteen on a motorbike.”

Touya tutted. “None of that talk. This will be fun.” He whispered the last word, his low drawl sending a shiver up your spine.

You brushed him off, patting your hair down so you could fit the helmet on your head. It was big and bulky, and you lifted up the visor to look at him.

“Aw. You look cute.”

“At least I’ll die pretty.”

He pulled the visor down and knocked the side of the helmet. “Stop talking about dying. I’ll protect you, sweetheart.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Enough. Okay. How do we do this?”

Touya sat down on the motorbike. When his legs curved over the side you noticed they were more muscular than you first ever realised, even in the grey sweats he had on. He patted the seat behind him.

“On you get.”

You sighed. You made sure your bag was secured on your back, and gingerly hopped on. You pulled down your skirt as it hitched up your legs, and tried to ignore Touya’s eyes burning holes in your skin. You gripped the edge of the seat and Touya laughed.

“No can do, doll. You gotta hold me.”

Right. That made more sense. 

Your arms reached and curled around his middle, resting on his waist. You felt the hard line of muscle on his stomach, and you felt his chest rumble as he laughed once more.

“Closer. Come on, I don’t bite. Not unless you ask me to.”

You mumbled some choice words under your breath before you scooted closer. “Alright. I’m ready.”

“You sure?” He asked, clipping in his own helmet.

“I guess so.” 

The motorbike revved to life and you yelped. Your hands immediately gripped him tighter, and as Touya pulled out the parking lot and started driving you’re sure you almost suffocated him with how hard you were holding on. You couldn’t think about the fact he smelled like cigarettes and something musky, because wind was rushing through your hair and face, even where your face was pressed against his back. But, regardless of all that, it was great. Thrilling and adrenaline inducing in a way you hadn’t felt before.

“It’s good, right?” He yelled and you nodded, a smile almost splitting your face in half.

You made it home sooner than you’d have liked. You hopped off the bike, hair sticking on end as you took the helmet off.

“That was fun! Terrifying, but fun.” You yelled. Your ears were a little blocked from the rush of wind.

He fixed the hairs on your head that were sticking all over the place. His hands were bigger than yours but he was gentle as he brushed a strand of hair off your face.

“I told you I wouldn't kill you. Maybe next time you can drive.” His voice was softer than usual, and it made you feel warm.

“Oh, this is never happening again, trust me.”

“I agree.”

You froze. Touya froze too, and you cursed under your breath because that was your father’s voice. Your father who was supposed to be at some country club event right now, which is why you asked Touya to drop you home in the first place. Your face burned red and you turned to see him standing at the front door fuming, staring at the two of you. You immediately stepped away from Touya, and you thought that maybe for one second he didn’t recognise him, that some elaborate lie could get you out of this mess.

“Get off my property, Todoroki, before I call the police.” His voice was clipped and angry.

Fuck. “Dad, it’s-“

He looked at you with an expression so cold and disappointed it silenced you almost instantly. You faltered, turning to Touya. He looked just as caught in the headlights as you did. He stepped forward, to say something, cut through the tension that surrounded your front lawn, but your dad didn’t let him get a word in.

He pulled out his phone. Just held it in the air and fixed Touya with a glare. “You have about ten seconds.”

Your father was a man of his word and you’re happy Touya had some sense to believe him. He clipped his helmet back on his head, and you heard the rev of the motorcycle interrupt the silence before he drove away. 

“Dad-“

“Get inside.”

It was weird, being told off. You hadn’t been scolded like that, sat on the couch as your parents stood across from you with fury in their eyes, since you were a child. You were eighteen, for crying out loud. And yet, you still found yourself waiting for him to say something, not brave enough to storm off to your room when he looked as pissed as he did. After another few moments of aching silence, he finally spoke.

“Are you trying to destroy my work? My- My livelihood? Everything me and half the men in your family worked their whole lives for?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What? Dad, we were just-“

“You shouldn’t be anything with that boy! Do you even know what he’s like?” He yelled.

You sat up straighter. “He’s not a boy, Dad, he’s eighteen years old. So am I! We don’t have any business with you and Enji!”

Your dad shook his head. “It’s not about that! It’s- Do you even know his intentions? What if- His father is not a good man, Y/N. God knows what his son would turn out like.”

And you felt anger bridling between your veins, your head screaming at you to defend Touya’s name, because you know he has good intentions, that he has no business with Enji. He’s complained about him enough that you think he might hate him more than your own father does. 

He cursed under his breath. He sat down heavily on the coffee table across from you.

“Listen. I know you don’t care about this business, that you have no interest in it. That’s fine. I keep you out of it as much as I can, so I understand why you don’t realise why this is so bad.”

Your father rubbed at his eyes, and it was in moments like that you saw his age. That you noticed the wrinkles that had made home on his face, the tiredness that never seemed to leave no matter how much he slept.

“But it is bad. This- This business, it’s so competitive. Everything matters. And it looks bad for my partners if they see you together. You know how things are in this town, how much people talk, and he’s not exactly got the most picture perfect image. I mean, the dyed hair, the piercings.” Your dad shakes his head. “There’s- You know he has a criminal record? He committed arson when he was fifteen.”

“But Dad-“

“There’s no buts. Not only do this bad for me, but you said you had school, and I see you coming home on a motorbike when me and your mother aren’t home. All  because of that boy.” He spits.

“I didn’t lie, I did have school. He was just dropping me home!”

“You told me Rumi was dropping you home. So you lied. And I’m sure it’s not the first time. Don’t think we don’t know you’ve been sneaking out.”

Your face burned red. You didn’t even try to deny it and. Your father nodded his head. “See? We thought it was just- Rebellious teenager stuff. But now I know you were probably going out to see him.”

Your father stopped you before you could try defend yourself. “You’re grounded. School and then work and then home. No more sneaking out and no more motorbikes.”

Your mouth gaped open. “What? I don’t even get to defend myself?”

“No. Go to your room.” 

“I’m not a child, dad! You can’t ground me!” You spluttered, but he shrugged.

“You’re still living under my roof, and I'm still paying for everything. So yeah, I can ground you.”

It was a bit hard to defend your maturity when you did indeed storm into your room like a child. It was a surprise you didn’t get in even more trouble for your little outburst. You’re sure if your father wasn’t as tired as he was he would’ve doubled your punishment for talking back like you did. 

So you stopped talking to Touya. You didn't want to, but the watchful eyes of your parents and the guilt from that exhausted look that you put on your fathers face was sort of eating you up. You never really thought about the fact that he would’ve wanted you to take over the business, like he took it from his father. How much it all meant to him. You didn’t understand the logistics of his business because you never cared to and you can’t help but feel a little horrible because of it.

So you started leaving Touya on delivered. You replied less and you ignored the heavy weight on your chest it caused and the fact that you missed him more each second he was away. You knew if you entertained his conversation even slightly you’d be back to sneaking out and finding him in town, so you tried as best as you could to keep your distance. You felt bad that you couldn’t explain why. But the truth is you barely understood why yourself.

You worked and studied and came home just like your parents asked, desperate for your freedom and less of their overbearing eyes on you all the time.

But you couldn’t avoid Touya forever, and soon enough, there’s another party your whole family is expected to be at, some community thing that apparently everyone in town is going to. Your fathers up for an award and he wants you there. You’ve been informed your grounding will be lifted if you can show up and look the part, so you’re sort of excited to go, if more for the outcome than the event itself.

You wear a dark blue dress, the slit coming up to your thigh. The soft, silk material shines as it catches the light, and you pair it with a gold necklace your mother had bought you years ago. You do your makeup and fix your hair, spritzing yourself with your most expensive perfume. You’re not stupid. You know Touya is going to be there, so you may as well dress the part in case he catches a glimpse of you.

And, low and behold, he does. You’ve seen him once tonight. He’s wearing a black suit and a black button up and he sticks out like a sore thumb in between his family, but you know he doesn’t care. He looks bored and it’s a good look on him. His jaw is set and he sips in a glass of champagne. He notices you just once, blue eyes locking onto yours. They look at your face, drop to the exposed skin of your legs and collarbones. And then they look away.

You last about an hour of speeches and clapping before you find yourself outside. Today's venue is fancier and security guarded, so instead of exploring, you just stand outside, a ways away from the door. You wish you could go home but your ride is inside and probably still pissed at you. You itch for a cigarette and the boy who comes with them.

You know that you could probably call him right now and he’d come out, but. You feel some obligation to your family. To your father. It’s the least you could do to keep your hands off him tonight of all nights.

“You wanna share?”

You turn, and like you knew deep down, he’s there. It took him about ten minutes, but you knew he’d follow you out. You were hoping for it, relally. To get a glimpse of him alone, like he was really all for you. He’s illuminated by the moonlight and the soft glow of the streetlight you were leaning on. You look at the cigarette waiting patiently in his hands, and you look away.

“No, thanks.”

You can hear cars driving a couple streets down. The night air is cold, and your hands rub up and down your arms to try to warm you up. Touya nudges your arm and when you look, his suit jacket is in his hands.

“I’m alright.”

Touya frowns. “So that’s it? You’re just never going to speak to me again?”

You shake your head, turning away. “It’s- I can’t, Touya.”

And he scoffs, incredulous. He pulls you back and his skin is warm even outside. And when you face him, he looks desperate, and you want to turn away. He doesn’t let go of you though, and holds you in place.

“You can. Who gives a shit what our parents want?”

“I do!” You yell. “Touya, you know what our fathers are like. This- This business is everything for them!” 

“Okay? And what does that have to do with us?” He says, his grip tightening. 

“It-“  You struggle for the words like they’re stuck in your throat. “It has everything to do with us, come on, Touya. You know that.”

Even this, just talking to him is enough to have your parents mad at you. And if anyone inside catches this? Catches the way his hands are sliding down your arms to hold yours, the way you’re looking up at him? You’re dead.

“I don’t know. I- God. You make me sound so whipped.” 

He mumbles the last sentence like it’s just meant for him. At the confused look on your face he smiles, bittersweet and aching.

“I don’t know what it has to do with us, Y/N.” And it’s your name that leaves his lips, not some stupid nickname, and it tugs at your heart. “I don’t know and honestly, I don’t care.”

“I’m not taking over the business. I don’t give a shit about my dad and everything he stands for. I give a shit about you. I know that- there’s probably a hundred other guys that are probably way more deserving of you but.” 

He swallows roughly. Runs a hand through perfectly imperfect hair, then immediately comes back to hold you. 

“But I like you. Okay? I- I like you and I don’t care that our parents are fucking company rivals, I couldn’t give less of a shit. I really like you. And- you not talking to me for the past few days? It’s fucking killing me.”

“I-“ 

But he cuts you off. “Don’t lie. Okay? Don’t lie to me. Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way.”

He steps closer. Your hand comes up and rests on his chest and you think you can feel his heartbeat.

“Touya. I don’t- I don’t know.”

Your fingers curl in his shirt. The fabric feels expensive in your hands, rough against the smoothness of his skin. The distance between you is so small, yet you feel like it might take everything in you to pull him closer. His hands slide from your hands to settle against your waist and they burn through the layers of your dress. 

You can hear the sound of music slipping out from under the doors. You wonder how long it will take for someone to notice you’re missing, and you wonder if you’ll be here with Touya when they do. You can only imagine the look on your fathers face, the look on Enji, if they caught you two even talking. Let alone whatever this is.

The dress you’re wearing does nothing to protect you from the cold, but you don’t think it’s the reason you’re shivering. It’s wrong. God, it’s so wrong that you can feel it physically, the cells in your body urging you to pull away.

But he’s looking at you like nobody ever has. Eyes flirting from your lips, to the slope of your nose, the heat you can feel colouring your cheeks. There’s a look of desperation in his face you’d feel horrible to ignore, like he might die if he goes one more second without you. The streetlight casts shards of light across his face and you’re certain the person standing in front of you can’t be human. You find him beautiful in a way you didn’t think was possible, and you’re scared and begging that he knows that.

You stand, silent and breathing, for what might be a lifetime. You’re both daring the other to make the first move. Both too scared to ask for what you want.

Touya lifts his hand. He curls it around your face, rests it against the space in between your neck, just where it meets your shoulder. He asks. Silent and still somehow the loudest thing you’ve ever heard.

A nod. Imperceptible at best, but enough. Enough for someone desperately searching for it. 

A breath.

And then he’s on you. His hands pull you closer and your own curve against the slope of his jaw, scratching against the faint stubble on his chin. And his lips are rough and pressing as they melt against your own, like he’s trying to fit himself inside your mouth. He bites at your bottom lip and your mouth opens with a soft noise, and he’s licking, tongue searching your gums and the uneven line of your teeth. 

You push him back, panting for breath. “We- Touya, chill.” You laugh breathlessly as his lips trail down your neck, licking at your pulse and biting at the soft skin of your shoulders.

“No.”

“Someone could walk out and see us.” You whisper weakly. 

“Don’t care. I’d fuck you in front of them all.”

“Touya.” You scold, blushing furiously.

You finally push him back properly. Your hands come up and land on his face, thumb brushing the globe of his cheeks. His face is flushed and warm and his lips look so kissed and swollen. He blinks impossibly long lashes at you and you smile despite yourself.

“I like you too. Obviously. I just- You need to give me time. To figure this all out.”

He swallows and you watch his Adam Apple bob. 

“I know you don’t care about what your father thinks, but I do. And- I need to find a way to convince him. Then, we can see.”

Touya nods. He waits a beat. “Does this mean you’ll stop ignoring me?” 

Guilt clenches in your stomach. “Yes. Sorry about that.” You say sheepishly.

He hums. “I think I’ll need a few more kisses first before I forgive you.”

“Degenerate. Pass me that cigarette.” 

—————————————————————————-

Touya Todoroki I’ll never forget u.. we r five years strong ☺️ I hate this slightly but I also love it.. so who knows

my period was late so it’s so painful and bad.. keep me I. Ur prayers people

As always hope u enjoyed <3

CANON I SAY !!

hawks sending this to his assistant right before he's about ask them to open their window before he crashes into their apartment building bc he's hurt after a fight

YESYESYESOHYES

hi rue .. i’m kinda shy to ask this but can you please do a small drabble of the reader and touya arguing (not quite intense) & touya keeps replying with “no maam” or “yes maam” every time the reader asks questions 💔💔

🚬 oh i could kiss you rn. mhm. thank you sweet anon i stayed up at 2am writing this heh

fratboy touya get out of my heaaddddd

yes ma'am // touya todoroki

the puddles beneath your feet splash against your bare calves with every step.

"for fuck's sake, stop walking so fast." touya's voice calls out from behind you as you turn the corner of the street. the heavy bass of the house party you ran out of slowly drowned into nothing as the rain hit your body.

it was nearly 12am, and the downpour was only getting stronger. your fingers shook as you pathetically rubbed the sides of your arms, hoping to muster up some heat from the friction.

touya reaches out and grabs you by the shoulder, pulling you back towards him.

"you seriously mad at me? after i just poured my heart out for you?" he half-chuckles. "c'mon now sweetheart, at least reject me to my face."

"poured your heart out?" you scoff, forcibly facing him. "what kind of a fucking confession involves punching a random guy in the teeth?"

"that dumbass had it coming to him with or without the confession." he rolls his eyes.

"touya." you shake his hand off of your shoulder. "you can't go around starting fights just because you can't use your words."

"didn't i, though? made it very clear you were off limits." he shrugs, a hint of satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

you glare at him, crossing your arms over your chest as you let a silence fall over you with the droning of the rain.

touya brings a hand up to push his soaked hair back from falling into his eyes. he blows out a breath of air in defeat.

"i'm sorry, okay? don't be upset."

you take a step forward, leaning in just mere inches from his face. touya bites back a smirk as his cheeks grow hot from the proximity.

"you will go back inside and apologize."

his eyes follow the rain droplets trailing down to your lips.

"yes ma'am."

"you will find me some dry clothes."

his gaze continues to follow down the soaked t-shirt clinging to every curve of your body.

"yes ma'am."

"you will take me home."

touya licks his lips, letting the cold water on his lips grow hot against his tongue.

"yes ma'am."

you step back, watching his eyes flicker between your eyes and lips, counting all of the droplets that slip from your chin and eyelashes.

"are you listening to me?" your face grows hot.

"mhm. yes ma'am."

"and when we get back my apartment, you're going to properly use your fucking words and tell me how you feel. okay?"

touya reaches his hand up to tuck a stray soaked strand of hair behind your ear, letting his thumb graze against the side of your jaw.

"yes ma'am." he slowly nods his head, knowing that the moment he's alone with you, he'll be using more than his words.

-

touya tags: @kaldurahms-lover @moonchild701 @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm @moonlitmorganite @bitchyfestivalbouquet @touyas-wife

CUUUUUTIES<33

this was shoutos dream :') my shaylaaa

also not sure if touya would have scars

(・ε・｀ )

fantasy scribbles