Latest Posts by aisakayua - Page 2

heat abnormal

i appreciate this sweaty icy boy with huge big bro energy

Oh nice

I forgot to post here commission with dabi

look but don't touch

lets DANCE baby

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

I LOOOOOVVEE cheeky boy shoto💕💕💖💝🤭

"I thought I'd find you here."

You weren't even bothered to check who entered your dorm room, but you knew that clear voice so well.

"Sorry, Shouto," you managed a short reply. You were spread on your bed in your favorite loose shirt and All Might cartoon boxer shorts. The light-colored curtains were drawn open, but the windows were closed, and despite the air conditioning cranked up, it didn't help that today was one of those arid weekend afternoons that made you feel stuffy and heavy and absolutely lazy.

"I sent you a message," Todoroki Shouto, one of the best (and cutest, as your friends remarked) young heroes in the making, who also happened to be your dearest boyfriend, made his way into your dorm room without you even noticing. It was hard to maintain focus when all you could think about was trying to cool down. You felt the bed shift as he sat down beside you.

"Sorry…" You lazily reached for your phone on your bedside drawer. "It's just… Too hot to even move!"

"I see," came a short reply. "Is there anything I can do to ease your discomfort?"

"Do you wanna build a snowman?" You joked, sitting up to meet his gaze before your expression melted into slight confusion. He looked like he was dressed to go out with his light blue dress shirt and dark pants. Regardless, you met his presence with inert excitement. "I'm glad you're here."

Todoroki gave you a small smile before reaching out for your cheek with his right hand, but the coolness of his touch was still a little surprising. Still, you happily sank into his caress despite how chilly his palm was.

"Shouto, w-would you…" You raised your arms and playfully opened and closed your hands. "Would you like to cuddle?"

"Isn't it a little too hot for cuddling?"

A pout graced your face. "N-Not if I'm only hugging your right side!"

"What a selfish girlfriend," he sighed before eventually chuckling in defeat. As though he could refuse such an earnest request from you. "I'll forgive you even though you forgot that we were supposed to go out today."

You froze on the spot and felt your face heat up when he started to unbutton his dress shirt. "O-Oi! Wh-What are you doing?!"

He had an inner shirt, much to your relief, and he made his way beside you, lying down rather comfortably on his back before beckoning you to crash into him as well. He dropped his right arm and patted the light-colored sheets with a rather coy smile on his face.

"Shouto…"

He was still grinning. "Come closer, then. Let's stay cool today."

🌺 Author's note:

This fic is based on Rebecca Mock's art piece with the same title.

This is a rework of a chapter from my old MHA fic collection! I plan on revisiting some of my old work and getting to crosspost them here... eventually! There's just something about a mysterious and reserved guy being coy with his girlfriend... that makes me all giddy!

Apart from being one of my favorite pieces back when I started writing for MHA, I believe this fic happens to be a fan favorite of sorts, too. This was years ago and I gave permission for it to be recorded as an x listener audio fic. You're free to send me a message if you'd like a link to the audio fic!

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.

birth month is december but i cant decide if shoto is my fav or dabi ☹️

can you guys reblog this with your birth month and favorite mha character i’m trying to test something

Awie

drummer katsuki

i lowk saved this until i was in my bakugou era thanks cas <3

no quirk au, late 20’s bakugou, biker + drummer bakugou, language and suggestiveness. established relationship n shit like that yadda yadda, ignore the haha reaction on the pic i cannot get rid of it for the life of me

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

CUUUUUTIES<33

this was shoutos dream :') my shaylaaa

also not sure if touya would have scars

(・ε・｀ )

"Endeavor needs to take responsibility" tell me you didn't read any of his actual dialogue without telling me.

Like oh my god, how are some people just so blind? He initiates the conversation around his behaviour and apology for such. He's the one taking steps to prove he deserves the chance to be seen as a changed man. He's accepted that he may very well die alone, hell he was willing to let Dabi kill him. This is one of the greatest character arcs I've ever seen and people just ignore it out of...what? Personal bias? At least acknowledge that he's doing the best he can within the circumstances. Seriously, what more do you want out of him?

I didn't choose this life, guys. He looked me (Shoto) dead in the eyes and said "I'm proud of you" and it stabbed me through the heart. I tried to fight it but the Sir Nighteye/Kiyotaka Ishimaru/Steven Universe kin inside me could not ignore it forever.

He and the rest of the Todorokis are all so wonderfully written. The storyline is incredible and so nuanced. The point of the story is not forgiveness, the point is to acknowledge that sometimes people fuck up and there's nothing you can do to change that, all you can do is heal and move forward. To say that everyone deserves the chance to do better if they simply try to do so.

DABI LOOKS GOOD WITH PINK

WE HAVE BEEN BLESSED

broken mirror

some more mhas

Request: PLEASE i NEED, hawks, touya, aizawa & shigaraki with a gamer s/o

i think all of them would be receptive to gaming with their s/o for the sake of bonding in their love language (minus shigs bc hes already a gamer like that) but i think hawks and aizawa would be naturally SO good at games like shockingly good and touya would be so painfully shit at every game

ready player one // smau

hawks, touya todoroki, shouta aizawa, tomura shigaraki

🐉⚔️

mha // fic recommendations

note: remember to read the tags! + i do not own any of these works

bakugou katsuki

defiant say it with your hands darling it's better (down where it's wetter) statistically significant how to set fires mr. fixer upper the red of fate meets the blue of twitter verification

shoto todoroki

if i could keep cool break the glass (in case of emergency) something new strawberry scented dreams flare loads of fun mr. tokyo beat hottest hero

dabi / touya todoroki

not a proposal an arsonist's lullaby running errands i'm melting in your eyes, like the first time that i caught fire (just stay with me, lay with me now) it's conditional laundromat

hawks / takami keigo

lay low take it slow birb puns crawl home to me paper cranes little bird no need

eijiro kirishima

the marionettist would you like me to stay forever revenge paws for panic red crush culture in one kiss, you'll know all i haven't said

denki kaminari

body electric streams truth or dare seven minutes of humor in your arms why are you so pretty?

FUCKKKK

He stood outside the courthouse, using the building’s reflective glass as a makeshift mirror. He adjusted the tie she’d picked out for him that morning, tugging it loose and then tightening it again until it sat just right. His free hand ran through his hair, smoothing the strands she’d ruffled when she kissed him goodbye with a sly smirk. The faint scent of her perfume clung to his shirt, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Man, your wife is insane,” an officer muttered as he walked past, throwing him a glance.

Without missing a beat, he chuckled, straightening his collar. “Yeah, no shit. Why do you think I married her?” He shot the officer a grin through the reflection, adjusting his cufflinks like this was just another day in his life. “I’m literally on my way to her trial right now, carrying her favorite cookies and wearing the shirt she insisted on. Hell, I’ve even got her eyeliner in this bag because, and I quote, she wants to look stunning for the pictures.”

He gave himself one last look in the glass, smoothing the fabric of his shirt, before turning to the officer. “And when this is all over, I’ll be paying her bail. Not because I have to—because I want to. She’ll come out, probably ask for a shopping spree or some fancy dinner, and you know what? I’ll give it to her. Every last bit.”

His voice softened as he glanced down at the cookies in his hand, a quiet smile tugging at his lips. “Because she’s my wife. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Batteries

Ughhhh fuckasssss wanna draw it <33

get the words together // touya todoroki

a/n: i need to be held back and strapped down in a padded cell after this like i am going insane!!!!! happy birthday touya babyyyyyy <3 <3 <3

-

touya tag: @kaldurahms-lover @moonchild701 @themultifandomgirl @devilslittlehelper @porusuniverse @ratatellie @katbug37 @ggriwm @moonlitmorganite @touyas-wife @bitchyfestivalbouquet @haruhi269

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover

FUNNY LMAOOO

various silly texts pt. 2

shigaraki x reader

slightly suggestive, vague mention of period stuff

YESYESYES HED DEF BE LIKE "I don't" Then next moment "jk dont kill me" It's soooo cute ><

𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 .ᐟ

synopsis: pro-hero au with touya! (x pro-hero reader)

notes: sabrina carpenter was the reason i made this anws warning for mentions of being drunk & nsfw (very light mention😭) also joking mentions of misandry 💗

SHIMMER AND SHINE OHHHH idr the rest

could you write a lil something for shoto? im on my knees begging praying and worshipping 🤲

.ᐟ basically family

s.todoroki smau

when you’re best friends and basically family

a/n: 95% of this was pulled directly from convos i’ve had with my best friend because his family fits shoto’s way too well I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD ANONNNN MWAH MWAH

bnha masterlist. | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | main masterlist.

THIS IS SO CANON I LOVE SLOW BURN

Thinking abt Todoroki Shouto, and how he isn't as dense as he comes across...

When reading fanfics Shouto is always oblivious and dense, and yes, I wholeheartedly agree with that—

But i feel like Shouto also does it on purpose, you know? Like, one day you're both talking, and he's just soo up close to your face. 'He probably doesn't realize' you rationalize inside your head, but no, he's definitely aware of the affect he has on you. Your reactions are cute, he thinks, cute in the way he can't seem to stop teasing you.

I think he'd pay extra close attention to people that are close to him, people he holds dear, so whenever you stutter, or your mind goes and blank and you think 'Oh, I hope he didn't notice that—' he does.

I think that's why I like the idea that he's actually a little menance, but the worst part is that he gets away with it !!

Whether it's saying something so humbling and out of depth— something that many would take offense to but think, 'well, he didn't really mean it that way— that's just how he is', NOPE!! he definitely meant it that way, but not clarifying anything saves him the trouble so why should he care yk...

Though, he mostly (all the time really) does it with you. Getting up in your personal space, saying things like "When we're on a mission together, I feel like I can handle anything as long as you're the one by my side"— and it flusters you sooo badly, but no, this is Shouto we're talking about, clearly he didn't mean it like that, right? Right? (And the entire time, he's trying to bite down a Cheshire grin)

So, yes, in the earlier years of being a hero he wasn't really great at communication and unaware of social cues— but now, he's practically evil with the way he acts around you.

Sometimes you think you see it; you're going to call him out on his behavior. There's no way he didn't know what he was doing when he held your face in his hands on a hot summer day, pulling you close and saying, "Is this cooling you down?" (No, actually, this was just heating you up)

But whenever you do call him out on it—

"You know, you're not that slick." You say one day, ice cream cone in hand as you walk next to him, bumping him with your hip. Your eyes slide over towards his mismatched ones, gauging his reaction closely. If you were anyone else you would have probably missed the slight quirk of his lip; the uplift of his brows. But you don't, and the grin on your face overtakes most of your features. Maybe today will be the day he finally admits it. Instead he doesn't speak, takes one lick of his mint chocolate ice cream and then he turns to you, a silent question appearing on his face. A taunt.

You let out a humourless breath, cone tight in your hand as you point it in his direction. Accusing him of something both of you know you won't be able to prove, but he knows you know, and you know he knows you know. But, it'd be really great if he could just admit it, because it's almost like a game.

A game between just the two of you.

"Don't try and act blonde now!" You chide, biting on your bottom lip to control the smile that tries to force it's way on your face.

Shouto smiles at your antics, leaning in close to you, and all of a sudden he completely invades your senses. The smell of mint on his lips is so close, and yet so far. He stares deeply into your eyes, and just as you thought you were getting closer to the truth— he brings his thumb up to wipe absent mindlessly at the corner of your mouth. He pulls back, looks you in the eyes, and takes a tentative lick at the frosty flavour on his thumb. With a cat-like tilt to his head, he says, "I'm not blonde?"

But, the worst part is whenever he speaks about you to others, he speaks so fondly of you; like one would do about their partner— but you guys aren't together. Sometimes he does it right in front of your face whenever you guys are at a hero gala. Shouto sees you talking to a new and upcoming, young, pro-hero and he immediately comes to your side. With how close he is, and with the things he says to them, "I can never imagine myself without them by my side." It gives people the idea that you're both, you know, a thing.

Little do you know, he's been playing this 'game' ever since high school, and even though the two of you aren't exclusive— it doesn't mean he can't get in his fun.

Todoroki Shouto is not good for your health.

THIS IS CANON IDC

I LIVE FOR THISSSS

This is so tsk (my friend) coded

megumi boyfriend texts

masterlist

Yaweyyy

♪ ༘⋆ drawn to you — t.todoroki smau

♪ ༘⋆ online shenanigans ii. the bar for men

i. stranger danger m.list

[ taglist open ]

tags: @fictionalcharactersownmyheart @hktfbuo @commonmisery @lsunncy @kyiyoko @seijuroww @themultifandomgirl

ignore the timestamps

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