#if only touya was a girl | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whirlybirbs · 2 months ago

Text

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development.

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun?

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago.

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide.

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest.

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent.

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence.

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time?

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown.

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care.

He isn't a villain-in-training.

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children.

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents.

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet.

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it.

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class?

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes.

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing.

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now.

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again.

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good.

Happy.

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time.

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto.

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero.

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good.

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever."

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk.

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher.

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember.

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing.

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle.

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute.

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all.

He hangs back.

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto.

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was.

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds.

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back.

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are... good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose.

And the underdog in question can read a room.

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions.

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment.

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell.

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?"

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy."

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog."

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya.

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?"

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath.

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates.

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful.

Fuyumi's contribution.

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back.

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine.

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables.

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A.

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks.

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass.

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy.

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him.

Until this morning, that is.

You smile into your drink.

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot.

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school.

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so.

It's adorable.

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home.

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it.

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you.

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss.

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen.

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you.

It's sweet.

Really sweet.

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit.

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there.

Your stomach does a flip.

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure.

Keep it together.

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years.

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment.

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park.

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly.

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest.

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now.

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment.

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone.

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful.

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together.

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face.

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did.

It shows.

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory.

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined.

And then you whimper.

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching.

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up.

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him.

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that?

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect.

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person.

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face.

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs.

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend.

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki.

#todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagine #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #touya todoroki #i LOOOOVE HERO TOUYA #HE IS SOOOOOO CUNTY

4K notes · View notes

crushmeeren · 11 days ago

Note

okay okay okay but what if the reader got their belly button or nipples pierced and Katsuki or touya are SHOCKED but quickly realize just how much they love the new piercing(s) omg

okay, but this would be so HOT!!

༝ ᭝ ༝ i’m putting them both in this cuz i can’t stop myself ༝ ᭝ ༝

master list link ༝ ᭝ ༝ @pixelcafe-network

༝ ᭝ ༝ katsuki ༝ ᭝ ༝

“The fuck? What the hell is that?”

You freeze with your elbows to your ears, Katsuki only having stripped off your shirt halfway before stopping, and glance down to what he’s staring at. You roll your eyes playfully, batting his hands away and finish what he’d started. You toss the material over the side of the bed and flop back down onto the mattress.

“It’s a belly button ring. You know what those are, right?”

Katsuki sits back on his calves, rolling his eyes even harder, and levels you with a glare. “Yeah, dumbass, I know what a belly button ring is. When did you fuckin’ get one?”

You grin mischievously, hooking your thumbs into your underwear and slip them off as well. “A couple weeks ago,” you say causally, parting your thighs wider. You reach down with one hand to place a finger on either side of your pussy and spread yourself open.

Katsuki narrows his eyes. “How the fuck did you hide it from me? I see you naked all the time!” His hands curl into fists on his thighs, lids lowering when he shifts his gaze to your pussy. The heat is evident in his expression.

You move your hand up to play with your clit, two fingers rubbing slow circles and pleasure prickles in your lower belly, toes lightly curling.

Katsuki’s cock twitches very obviously in his briefs and your confidence skyrockets.

“Obviously not in the past couple weeks. You’ve been so distracted with work it wasn’t hard to keep it a secret.” You raise an eyebrow, a smug, small smile on your lips. “Well, do you like what you see?”

Red eyes flicker to your face as Katsuki smirks. “Fuck yes. You’re so stupidly hot, princess.” He reaches out and lets his finger delicately play with the jewelry, coaxing a shiver down your spine and a soft moan from your throat. “So sensitive, isn’t that right baby?” He teases, tugging lightly at the ring.

You respond with a whiny “mm-hmm,” head tilting back into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut and lips parting when Katsuki’s thumb takes over circling your clit. Katsuki’s warmth disappears entirely, leaving you cold, but before you can protest there’s soft, warm lips pressing a kiss to your pussy.

“Fuckk,” you choke out, something hot jolting through you. You tangle your fingers in thick, blonde hair. “You really like it Kat?”

Katsuki hums his confirmation and the vibration makes you yelp, a wet tongue dragging up between your lips and flicking over your clit. He pulls back slightly, warm breath tickling you. “Should I get a tongue ring princess? Bet that’d feel real fuckin’ good on your pretty little pussy, yeah?” He asks lowly, licking you like an ice cream cone before you respond.

You curse and tighten your grip in his hair, eagerly encouraging the idea. Katsuki grips the backs of your thighs, seals your clit in the searing heat of his mouth and eats your pussy like he’s trying to devour you whole.

He gets your chest heaving, flushed down your nipples, and you’re so sensitive that each touch makes your thighs jerk while you whine in protest.

Katsuki’s hard cock bobs when he yanks his briefs down, shaking his head with a grin.

“We’re not even fuckin’ close to done yet baby. You wanted my attention so badly, gettin’ that piercing. I’m just givin’ you what you asked for, princess. Now be a good girl and take my cock.”

༝ ᭝ ༝ touya ༝ ᭝ ༝

Shit happens.

More often than not, you roll with the punches. Cracking your neck and brushing it off, but this time it stuck to you like glue.

Sparse gravel crunched underneath your boots as you walked the familiar concrete path to the LOV hideout. Your arms swung a bit too quickly, buzzing with excitement to show Touya your new jewelry that you’re certain he’ll greatly appreciate.

Your phone had buzzed with a text from Touya, stopping you dead in your tracks. All he’d said was that they had to lay low because they’d run into some heroes, and that he’d be burning his phone. No other details.

That was two months ago. It isn’t out of the norm for this to happen, and you’d tried hard to stay busy, you really did, but no dice. You’ve been worrying about him from dusk to dawn, and vice versa.

You tug your blanket up over your shoulder to fight off a chill, curling further into your pillow, and pause your aimless scrolling to check the time. 2:00 a.m. You’re this close to turning off your bedside lamp and passing out when a creak at your window widens your eyes, almost comically so, and a rush of adrenaline tingles in your fingers.

You shoot straight up, heart jumping to your throat and blankets pooling at your waist. Your window opens slowly, and a fluffy head of white hair pokes in. The rising tidal wave of relief just about chokes you while you scramble out of bed.

“Touya,” you breathe, voice watery with emotion. You slam into his skinny frame as he stands to his full height, burying your face into his chest and locking your arms around his waist. His smoky, end of bonfire scent floods you with comfort.

“There there, drama queen, I’m fuckin’ fine,” he teases gently, but his voice sounds rougher than usual, and he loops his arms around your shoulders and squeezes tight.

You wrench your head back to stare up at him, eyes stinging, lower lip trembling horribly. “You asshole,” you mutter hotly, framing his cheeks and yanking him into a bruising kiss.

He takes it in stride, humming with satisfaction and skims his hands over your sides, bunching up your shirt. The rough texture of his lower lip burns against yours, and the warmth gathering in your chest drops to settle in your lower belly.

Touya ends up shoving you roughly onto the bed, stripping the both of you, hands a flurry of movement. The last piece of clothing is the large t-shirt you’re wearing, and when he pushes it up to your collarbone his jaw actually drops when he sees the new addition to your tits.

It’d be quite funny if you didn’t want him to fuck you so badly.

“Holy shit,” he says with an incredulous laugh. “When’d you get your tits pierced, sweetheart?” He finishes tugging your shirt off and blistering hands cup the swell of your breasts, thumbs running over your nipples.

“Careful,” you hiss, back arching to push your breasts into his palms. “They’re still sensitive,” you complain, moaning lowly when he squeezes and ducks down to kiss your sternum. “I - I got them done right before you left.” You can’t help but to tangle your fingers in his coarse hair as you speak.

“Goddamn doll, so fuckin’ gorgeous. I’ll kick Shigaraki’s ass for makin’ me miss this,” he murmurs into your skin, trailing kisses along your chest until he reaches just beside your nipple. “Gonna let me suck on these pretty titties?”

Touya rolls his hips, allowing the soft, warm skin of his shaft to slide over your clit. Your hips jerk up to meet him. “No teeth,” you warn, digging your nails into his scalp.

He lifts his head to grin lazily at you, one hand reaching down between you to steady his cock, his slick tip already pressing and begging to be inside. “No promises.”

He sucks your nipple into his mouth and shoves his cock inside you with one rough thrust. You shout his name, pussy fluttering around the unexpected cock splitting you open. He fucks you hard and desperate, tongue relentlessly playing with your piercings as he wrings all the pleasure from your body.

Touya’s mouth doesn’t leave your nipples for a second, tongue circling the jewelry as if to memorize the taste. His teeth graze the delicate skin and you smack the side of his head. His cock twitches and he moans, falling over the edge and into his own high.

Safe to say, Touya fucking loves your new piercings.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki smut #dabi x reader #dabi smut #todoroki touya smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki smut #mha smut #mha x reader #bnha smut #bakugo x reader

1K notes · View notes

with-my-calamitous-love · 2 months ago

Text

MY REPUTATIONS NEVER BEEN WORSE, SO

katsuki bakugou x reader

how he’d treat you in a relationship

same concept as the todoroki, kirishima, shinso, izuku, touya ver.

inspired by delicate

katsuki bakugou, who’s got a reputation. who is a harsh, abrasive asshole. who is known for his temper, and for his power. who knows that being with him isn’t for the best. who knows that anyone who wants to be with him has to like him for him.

katsuki bakugou, who almost always texts you at night. who makes your phone light up through the black, daring you talk to him. who is actually so funny and considerate, but would never let anyone know that. who will absolutely not go to sleep without texting you goodnight.

katsuki bakugou, who struggles to make promises with you. who, for once in his life, isn’t fully sure of himself. who prefers to live day by day with you. who isn’t sure if he can give you forever, but who will make you a drink and take care of you after. who slowly learns that forever is loving you day by day.

katsuki bakugou, who, though he’d never in a million years admit it, is insecure. who, behind his gruff features and anger-induced explosions, questions himself. who wonders if its okay that he bought you two concert tickets two months into your relationship, of if its chill that you’re in his head.

katsuki bakugou, who is so handsome- and he doesn’t even realize it. who wears beat up nikes and dark blue to see you. who prefers those private dates, the ones where he can love you in secret. who is a mansion with a view, with a key only you own. who loves the way your face lights up when he finally surprises you with flowers or chocolate. who thinks its dumb, but chases that high forever.

katsuki bakugou, who touches you like no one else. who knows you’re the only girl that could possibly bring him to his knees like this. who spends long nights with your hands in his hair. who wants to stay with you, and doesn’t wanna share.

katsuki bakugou, who is still an asshole despite being loving and caring. who calls you idiot, and dumbass, while he picks you up and carries you to the couch so you can cuddle. who, despite popular belief, is really sweet when he helps you study. who hides a smirk whenever he sees you succeed. who sometimes teaches you the wrong thing so you’ll come back and ask him to explain it again.

katsuki bakugou, who is made to be a caregiver. who loves cooking with you, reaching up to grab that book on the shelf you can’t reach. who insists on giving you his hoodie, because he never really gets cold. who secretly restocks your fridge for you and reminds you to eat something other than just cupped noodles. who shows he loves largely through actions.

katsuki bakugou, who loves back hugs. who always wraps his muscular arms around you whenever you’re doing anything, pressing his sweet lips just underneath your ear before whispering something to you. “i love you, idiot. move, i’ll help you with those dishes.”

katsuki bakugou, who learns that his reputation is just that- a reputation. its a perception of him, not who he really is. who wonders if you dream of him while you sleep the way he does. who pretends your his, all the damn time. who learns that he doesn’t have to pretend anymore.

katsuki bakugou, who you love for who he is. who is tough, and strong, and loves you delicately. who learns to promise you forever.

2K notes · View notes

yowumi · 12 days ago

Text

first time with mha men

featuring. izuku m. katsuki b. shoto t. denki k. fumikage t. eijiro k. touya t. hanta s. (aged up 18+)

summary. reader/mha men help lose his/your virginity (f! reader)

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ─── ─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

izuku midoriya

- it’s his first time, your experienced

- he leans more towards sub, but he can be a soft dom when needed to

- lets you guide him through it

- gets nervous and overstimulated quickly

- moaning mess, gets shy about it at first but you reassure him that you like it and he goes crazy with it, he mumbles, whines and whimpers a lot

- i feel like he would lean more on the girthy side and is average

- he can only hold out for so long so he cums quick but he has the stamina to hold out for 4 or 5 rounds

- gives the best aftercare, bathes with you, cuddles, snacks, anything you want.

“are you sure about this, izuku?” you ask wanting to make sure he’s comfortable. “mhm, please keep going” he says while he’s shaking, you can tell he can’t control it but he can’t help it, he’s never been touched by a woman before. you put your hands around his neck slowly moving them down to his shoulders where you held yourself up as you grinder against his dick, you both have been doing this for a while, feeling each others naked bodies rut against each other. “are you ready for me?” you whisper against his ear. he mumbles lowly while nodding his head, shutting his eyes waiting for it. you plop yourself down on his dick and you lost him. he starts shaking and hid in the crook of your neck as he whined, it all felt like so much. he’s never felt this good in his life, he thought to himself. he felt your tight pussy squeeze around you and he swears he sees stars, “f-fuck, it’s so much y/n…i don’t know if i can hold up much longer..” he mumbles, kissing you rapidly against your neck.

katsuki bakugou

- it’s your first time, he’s experienced

- he can’t help his rough demeanor and is used to being aggressive so it takes a lot out of him to be gentle but he wants both of you to have a good experience

- he likes being in charge but he’s all about your pleasure, loves fingering you, loves having his tongue inside of you, loves doing anything that will make you feel good

- tries his best to reassure that he won’t hurt you, “i’ll go easy on ya’ don’t gotta worry babe” “i’m gonna take care of you sweet girl”

- grunts, groans, and every now and then he will moan and hear a slight whimper when he cums

- he will be submissive if you make it a challenge like saying “you probably wouldn’t be any good submissive anyways”

- girthy, veiny and a little above average, he’s a chunk of meat

- he’s a good cook so he will cook for you afterwards and watch you fall asleep as you watch a movie together.

he’s already made you cum twice from his fingers and tongue, he gets up licking your juices off your fingers as he leans in to give you kisses on your neck as he lays you on your back. being the only one naked, you start to softly tug and look down at his sweatpants where you can see his noticeable bulge begging to be freed. a small smirk appears on his face as he releases himself from his sweats, seeing his hard cock springing out. you blush at the sight and he teases you, “like what you see?” which only makes you try and hide your face. he presses his tip against your entrance, “you sure about this?” he asks pressing light kisses on your cheeks. you nod but that wasn’t enough for him, “nuh uh, wanna hear it from that pretty mouth of yours” he looks you in your eyes. “yes, want you to take my virginity kats” and he smiles as he enters you, causing both of you to tense up and moan. “fuck, sucking me in so much babe” he waits for you to become comfortable around his length before starting up his thrusts.

shoto todoroki

- it’s both of your first time

- he doesn’t exactly have a preference, he doesn’t have a high sex drive so he’s okay with whatever you want, he doesn’t particularly know what to do but he trusts you with his body. once you guys get used to having sex more often, he gets comfortable initiating and taking charge.

- he doesn’t know if he’s supposed to make sounds, he’s never watched porn but when you hit certain spots, he will start breathing hard and if you listen closely you can hear a slight moan.

- before you two had sex, you had given him a blow job and the sensation of putting his cock inside your mouth was weird at first but eventually he got used to it and learned to like it as he would involuntarily buck his hips forward to get deeper in your mouth.

- his cock is a bit more on the skinny side but he’s long, longer than katsuki and izuku. with a bright pink tip and pale base.

- he falls asleep after sex, he isn’t aware of aftercare but you both just end up napping afterwards and he will wrap his arm around you in habit.

shotos eyes follow as you trail your fingers down his bare chest as he towers on top of you. his eyes moves down to your bare chest in front of him and you give him a light smile. “do you want to touch them shoto?” you ask and he turns his eyes back at you and a slight blush appeared on his face, “can i put my mouth on your breast?” he asks for permission as you nod petting his hair as he smiles before trailing kisses down your chest before grabbing one and sucking softly on the nipple as he plays with the other one. he doesn’t know what about sucking your tits fascinated him so much but he started to grind his hips down on your clothed panties. after a while of repeating this motion, he lifts his face up and asks, “i want to have sexual intercourse with you, if that’s okay”. you tell him that’s okay and he starts taking off your panties and pulling down his pants after. you grab his dick in your hand and put it in between the lips of your pussy, gliding the tip against your wetness and he starts breathing harder as he grinds his hips down against it, “i want you to put it inside me now” you tell him as you wrap your hands in his hair as he puts his head down to your neck and you press a soft kiss against his cheek. “okay. i’m putting it in now, i promise i’ll go slow”

denki kaminari

- it’s both of your first times

- it’s chaotic. you both think you know what your doing, you both DO NOT.

- y’all both don’t have a preference, after a while of having sex more often you will both switch roles but the first time is just pure chaos, y’all are both too busy trying to figure it out than actually getting to that

- denki does all of the above, moans, groans, whines, whimpers, barks, you resist the urge to slap him from the childish remarks he makes (he is so brainrotted it isn’t even funny)

- “zoo wee mama, you’re bad as fuck ma” “denki please stop talking”

- his shit is girthy and average, not anything too special, he calls it his lightning rod

- he’s a baby after sex so he demands you do everything for him and baby him because he claims he did all the work like the alpha male he is (he didn’t do shit)

“fuck y/n this feels so good, you’re so tight” he says as he grunts against your neck leaving a small smack on your ass, “denki, that’s my thigh.” you say plainly as he stops and looks down laughing, “oh shit, my fault, i’ll put it in now!” he says leaving a quick kiss on your lips as he makes sure to guide his dick down to try and find your hole “oh i found it!” “that’s my ass denki, we aren’t quite there yet” you roll your eyes at him. he finally finds your pussy and enters himself in slowly, “oh shit this is so much better than your thigh, fuckkkk” he moans as he rolls his eyes back, you feel a shock inside you and let out a small yelp, “DENKI! control your goddamn quirk” you say slapping his arm and he laughs a little, “don’t slap me, i might do it again” he jokes as he kisses your neck. “YOU PERV!”

eijiro kirishima

- it’s your first time, he’s experienced

- he’s a soft dom, he’s the sweetest in bed for sure, he’s very careful and considerate

- he’s pretty confident with himself and makes noise in bed but sometimes he likes to stay silent so he can listen closely to your moans and admire the way he’s making you feel

- “you’re beautiful y/n, can’t believe i have such a pretty girl”

- he is the BIGGEST, he has a monster dick, it’s huge, longer than any of the boys, he is PACKING, he’s girthy and veiny too.

- he can only cum about 1 or 2 times but he can hold out for a WHILE.

- he’s educated on sex and how to treat a woman from getting advice from his friends, online, he even asked aizawa for advice which only ended up with aizawa saying “just don’t be a dumbass and don’t ask denki for advice for godsake, can i nap in peace now?”

he takes out his dick from his boxers as you stare unashamed at the thing that’s gonna go inside you. you would be scared if it weren’t kirishima going inside you. he’s a sweet and nice boy so you’re sure he will be as gentle as possible. “i hope you aren’t disappointed, it’s okay if you don’t want to do it or anything” he says reassuring you thinking you’re staring at him because it isn’t enough (he’s so dick blind 💔) “no no, it’s perfect kirishima…you’re perfect” you smile as you kiss him. he starts and he puts lube on his dick so it will hopefully be a little easier on you as he slowly enters you as you moan around his chest. kissing and touching his sensitive chest as you play with his nipples and he moans. “i love when you do that, you know” he says burying his head in your neck as you hum against his ear, “i know baby��

touya todoroki

- it’s his first time, your experienced (based this more on before he became ‘dabi’ in the sense of he is still living with his father and has a lot of anger build up)

- he’s either a MEAN dom or a BRATTY sub (he has a lot of daddy and mommy issues so it depends on the day type shit)

- when he’s mean he will grunt or straight up start laughing mid sex, when he’s bratty he whines and complains.

- “hey ain’t it supposed to be my first time, yet you’re the one acting like a bitch in heat” “atta girl, move that ass for me”

- he was a sexually frustrated teenager so he watched a lot of porn as he would abuse the shit out of his dick, he’s masterbated in front of you a few times and you’ve given him oral but he didn’t want to rush into sex, that was until the day his father didn’t show up and he was filled with anger coming home to you with anger and a hard cock

- has a breeding kink, wants to fill you up any chance he gets, loves seeing you covered in cum

- his cock is long, girthy and fat, his tip is always a redish color from how hard he gets and he has veins running up his shaft.

- uh what is aftercare?

touya walked through the door, eyes red probably from crying beforehand, “touya are you okay? what’s wrong?” you ask concerned from his quiet demeanor. usually he would’ve cried in your arms or angrily rant about what happened but he just stood at the door quietly before finally speaking. “strip.” he said bluntly staring at you in the dark room, “huh?” you asked again wondering if you heard right. “I said…” he walked closer towards you like you were his prey before continuing, “strip for me.” you felt yourself throb as you removed your clothes letting them fall to the floor as he picked you up and turned you on the couch, holding your legs up in a mating press as he removed his abused red cock from his pants, “you’re gonna let me breed you tonight, ain’t that right baby” he said more in a demanding tone than asking permission. you nod and he leaves a slap on your ass, “use your words.” and you moan, “yes touya, want you to breed me, want it so bad” and he lets out a cocky laugh, “yeah, that’s a good fucking girl” he says as he slides his cock into you without warning, thrusting hard as you squeeze around him.

hanta sero

- your first time, he’s experienced

- he’s a soft dom, he isn’t too hard on you but he likes being in charge but he won’t mind you riding him once you get used to his cock.

- he’s a moaner, likes praising you

- “damn girl, you’ve been hiding this from me all this time?” “don’t get shy on me, i gotcha” “would never hurt my lady” “just a little longer ma”

- he knows you his so once you get used to his cock, he isn’t shy in letting the bakusquad try you out, he knows that you know who you belong to.

- he will massage you (he’s great with his hands) afterwards or help you bathe, he likes taking care of his girl

- he has a skinny cock but it’s LONG and damn does he know how to use it.

- he gives GOOD oral. he loves when you sit on his face.

“goddamn baby, you feel so good” he says as he has his cock stuffed in your hole while thrusting into you as he admires the way you moan for him. “sero, want more please, p-please” you moan out as he stares goes down to your nipple softly biting on your nipple enough for you to moan out and arch your back, “more of what, ma?” he asks as he sucks the skin of your breasts, “put it all in, don’t hold back p-please hanta” you whine as you pull his hair sending sero into a frenzy as he pulls out leaving you confused, “w-wha-“ your words cut off as he slams his cock inside of you fucking you deep as he hits your g spot, “that better baby?” he cockily asks against your ear, nibbling softly.

832 notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 7 months ago

Text

virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

~~~

If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

#shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki smut #tomura smut #bnha x reader #bnha x reader smut #virgcore shiggy

2K notes · View notes

wetblanket7 · 20 days ago

Text

touya todoroki headcanons bc im in love with this man ᯓᡣ𐭩

have i finished watching mha? no. does that stop me from writing about dabi? no <3

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

touya todoroki who once decided to dye his hair red and immediately regretted it. he dyed it black again after enji took thousands of photos of him

touya todoroki who askes you to name 5 songs after he saw you wearing band tshirt

touya todoroki who tells his siblings they’re adopted or were found in the trash

touya todoroki who always goes to fuyumi for love advice bc he’s a total loser

touya todoroki who loves underground midwest emo bands and thinks his music taste is superior (its not)

touya todoroki who’s still unemployed and lives with his parents

touya todoroki who told you that he’s in lesbians with you

touya todoroki who always cheats when they’re having a family game night

touya todoroki who sags his pants

touya todoroki who only wears beat up converse and dr martens (i can also see him having new rocks)

touya todoroki who plays bass

touya todoroki who pierced his nose himself after rei told him he can’t has piercings

touya todoroki who often skateboards with keigo

touya todoroki who plays every male manipulator game with his online friends (mostly with shiggy tho)

touya todoroki who definitely uses dabi as his nickname (he thinks he’s soo cool)

touya todoroki who’s a momma’s boy

touya todoroki who is a spit image of enji

touya todoroki who’s the most stereotypical male manipulator ever

touya todoroki who definitely had an opium phase (keigo uses his photos form that era to blackmail him lmao)

touya todoroki who manspreads all the time (he literally can’t seat normally)

touya todoroki who never saw a brush

touya todoroki who has minecraft server with his siblings

touya todoroki who listens to lil peep

touya todoroki who uses tiktok brainrot with natsuo daily (rei is tired of them)

touya todoroki who steals rei’s eye pencil

touya todoroki who’s your passanger princess

touya todoroki who wears his clothes as long as they pass the sniff test

touya todoroki who knows his hogwart house, greek god parent, mbti, birth chart and which type of bread he is

touya todoroki who gets offended if you don’t answer his tiktoks but won’t answer yours for weeks

touya todoroki who never wears matching socks

touya todoroki who can’t solve math problems for shit but will explain the entire plot of evangelion to you

touya todoroki who dated one or two girls before you and they both dumped him

touya todoroki who’s love language is annoying everyone around him

touya todoroki who consumed every media you ever mentioned

touya todoroki who wears every single bracelet fuyumi, natsuo and shoto made for him

touya todoroki who gives you flowers he stole from rei’s garden

touya todoroki who will come up to you and give you a rock bc it reminds him of you

touya todoroki who’s your trained photographer <3

──── ᡣ𐭩 ─────────────────

this is probably very ooc but im projecting. i need a man like him so bad its not even funny anymore

and hes very scott pilgrim/rodrick heffley coded. watch him fight your seven evil exes and cover baby for you <3

sorry for any mistakes my god why is posting so stressful lmao i literally feel like i made so many grammar mistakes 🔥🔥

btw if you know downtown mtv then theres this one scene where alex takes serena’s photos at the graveyard this is literally you and touya frfr

#touya todoroki #dabi #dabi todoroki #mha dabi #bnha dabi #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki headcanons #dabi x reader #dabi headcanons #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia

475 notes · View notes

saerins · 6 months ago

Text

ᯓ ᝰ RIGHT HERE .ᐟ — touya todoroki

touya x female reader. content tags modern au, childhood sweetheart!touya, both are working adults, making out, mentions of infidelity/murder, he’s a tease. word count 1.7k

ᯓ notes .ᐟ haha can you tell i love touya too much rn ? just getting back into writing so have some of my touya :) thanks to any of you who read this <3

“touya, you’re gonna make me late for work tomorrow,” you whine, pouting as he wins you in yet another round of super smash bros. (and hence you’d have to stay up and continue playing at his behest.)

beside you, touya smirks, rows of pearly white visible while he clearly enjoys tormenting you. “weren’t you the one who said you needed a distraction?”

you grumble as you take the couch pillow and hold it over your face, groaning in frustration. touya’s right; you’d called him right after dinner, practically forced him to come after you figured out that you’re actually not as strong you thought and you’re actually still really upset that your ex cheated on you.

it’s only pathetic because it’s already been a couple of months and you’re still wallowing over it somehow.

“you know, i bet all that frustration will go away if you just let me kill that fucker,” touya tells you, flicking your forehead as leans forward, yanking the cushion off your face.

unamused, you deadpan at him. “yeah? then what am i gonna do when you’re in jail, huh?”

touya snickers, “aww, what? can’t handle being without me?”

in a strange way, your honest answer is definitely not. you’ve known touya forever. ever since you were five and your families connected at a preschool event. ever since your friend fuyumi introduced you to her brother. ever since touya confided in you how much he hated his father.

fast forward more than a decade later and you’re both sitting in your apartment, in a different state than either of your families, still as close as you were when you were kids.

you glare at touya, rolling your eyes before scrunching your nose and smirking at him. “actually, go ahead, i’ll go find myself a better guy while you rot in the cell.”

your best friend scoffs, cocking a brow and looking like he’s offended. “i off someone for you and you don’t marry me immediately? the fuck is wrong with you?”

the shit-eating grin that dawns on his face immediately after makes your heart skip a beat. yeah, you’ve always found him attractive, maybe even had a crush on him back in high school, but he’d always had girls after girls, and somewhere along the way you learned to stuff those flimsy emotions back down.

until you remember that he’s been single for a while now, and the fact that you’re both working adults with all the freedom in the world.

fuck, you really shouldn’t go back there.

“haha, funny,” you try to wave it off sarcastically. “says the one who told his ex that he just sees me as a little sister.”

he laughs, leaning back against the couch, a hand behind his head, abs sticking out from the edge of his shirt. it takes you a second to rein yourself in, not wanting to get teased relentlessly by him if you get caught staring.

“hey, she was getting jealous of me spending so much time with you! what was i supposed to say?”

yes, you’re aware. most of them were. most of the time you never told touya about any of that; of how his girlfriends were coming up to you, all insecure about your friendship and asking if you could back off. that was the most common thing among all his relationships: the girls’ pleas for you to keep a distance.

you did… the first few times.

and after his fifth relationship, you realised that touya would always pull you back close. would always end up breaking up with them if your friendship is causing them too much worry.

“you didn’t have to say anything, maybe you should’ve just kept your distance, you know? since most of them seemed to have a problem with it,” you comment, trying to act as nonchalant as possible, though even you don’t believe yourself.

a life without touya is unimaginable for you. even if you can’t really say the same for him.

touya sighs, shifting in his position before ultimately putting an arm around you, pulling you close. he smells like your soap and his hair against your face tickles.

he’s always like this; always touchy, always close. recently he’s been more than usual, coming over and sleeping the night (you never did anything physical!), chasing other guys away at the club because they’re not good enough for you.

and when he’s like that, you think maybe there’s no harm in letting those long-lost feelings flow back.

it’s dangerous.

he’s always like this. always way too much for you to handle. and yet you can’t live without him.

and then he does something he’s never done before.

you feel his lips on your temple, and you hear the chuckle reverberating from his throat. his left arm around you holds you tight, not that you’re running anywhere—you’re pretty sure you’re frozen stiff from the shock.

did that really happen?

“how can i do that when you’re the only one i want?”

you’re sure that’s his voice. it can’t be anyone else’s. but you’re not sure if you believe him. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

slowly, you turn to face him, expecting him to wear that smug grin and tease you for being so gullible but it never comes. instead, you’re greeted with his half-lidded eyes, blue pupils staring at your lips like he’s hypnotised, his thumb caressing your lower lip from left to right like he’s trying to memorise all the grooves.

it’s so soft that you barely recognise your own voice when it comes, “touya, kiss me.”

and maybe he’s always wanted to, because he doesn’t miss a beat. the second you open your mouth, he’s giving you what you asked for, his tongue prying your lips open and he tastes just like the warm in winter mornings, like the comfort people always dream about.

mint. you can taste the sweet from when he ate it right before he beat you in the game. you can feel the cold on the tip of your nose from when you brush against the piercings on his nostrils. you can feel him carry you onto his lap, feel his hands wrapping around your waist. you can feel his heartbeat under his chest, under your palm, almost as erratic as your own.

were you really just upset over someone else?

every relationship you’d been sad over suddenly didn’t seem to make sense anymore. not when touya’s right here, lips locked with yours and telling you more with his kiss than you’ve ever heard from his words.

by the time you pull away, both of you are breathless, his hand on your cheek, lips softly brushing over your own like he can’t bear to be away even for just a second. you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes, half overwhelmed and half confused.

“fuck, did we really just—”

“shh,” you hush him, putting a finger on his lips, suddenly embarrassed. your foreheads are still pressed together, and you can’t see it but he’s admiring your face, holding himself back from just kissing you even more.

touya moves your finger away. he whispers your name in the most gentle tone you’ve ever heard, “does that mean you feel the same?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, tongue-tied and still straddling your best friend on the couch. you’re just a single impulsive action away from going all the way.

dangerous.

pulling back even further, you’re about to make a break for your bedroom when touya pulls you back, making sure you face him.

“no running this time,” he tells you, voice raspy and his eyes flicking from your eyes to your nose and your lips but mostly your lips. “i want you,” he whispers, and the minute you lock gazes, the answer has never been more clear to you.

“i want you too, touya,” you answer, both excited and afraid but he never lets you harp on things too much because he’s already kissing you silly, barely letting you breathe—you don’t have to guess with him; he wants you so desperately you can feel it in his actions.

“touya, we should stop,” you whine, knowing that this might be going way too quick yet you want it all the same.

touya shakes his head, big hands slipping under your shirt and squeezing your waist. “no, don’t wanna stop,” he whispers into your mouth.

he’s about to pull your shirt over your head when the loud shrill of his phone interrupts. he would’ve tossed it to the side if you hadn’t taken it and insisted he should take it. it’s from shoto, after all. (he doesn’t call often, it’s a complicated relationship.)

grumbling, touya leans back, keeping your thighs in place so you can’t move away. he’s smirking at you as he answers, “shoto, what is it?”

you can’t hear his brother over the phone. you can only guess snippets of the conversation from touya’s end.

“huh.”

“what for?”

“you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever.”

when he finally puts it down, he pulls you close by the chin, a glint of mischief in his grin. “get ready, doll.”

“huh? for what?”

touya gives you a peck on the lips. “family’s visiting, a surprise or whatever. they’re already in the city.”

you blink, praying he’s not being serious and wishing it’s not what you’re thinking. “okay, have fun!”

“and where do you think you’re going?” touya laughs, pulling you back down after you barely got back up.

“go spend some time with them, it’ll be fun.”

“oh i’m sure it’ll be fun,” he smirks, typing something into his phone and sending the message before you can sneak a peek.

you’re almost too scared to ask. but you do. “and why’s that?”

touya chuckles, thinking you’re way too stubborn, playing dumb even if it’ll kill you. but he guesses it’s fine if he has to spell it out for you. “because i wanna re-introduce you.”

“wait, what do you mean?”

with a gentle smile and a poke on your forehead, he looks you in the eyes. “i’m gonna introduce them to my future wife.”

891 notes · View notes

killsaki · 2 months ago

Text

leather cushions ☆ touya hates the couch in the living room, but somehow you have him sitting on them every second of the day.

word count : 6.7k | MINORS DNI

CW / TW : date gone wrong comfort fic-ish, fuck boy!keigo, sexual pressure, roommate!touya, sweet sex. repost from old blog. <3.

“don’t be a fucking idiot.” you hear your best friend yell over his shoulder from his seat on the couch that doesn’t belong to you nor him but somehow made its way into the apartment that the two of you share.

“i don’t think that’s something you can call someone who has a higher iq than you do.” you laugh back, expecting his usual disgusted face that you usually get when you poke at him. instead you’re met with a death glare from over his arm that slung over the back of the couch. something you physically react to, which earns a scoff from him as he turns back to the tv.

“if you’re so smart, you’d know he’s just going to try and fuck you.”

you know touya’s just trying to look out for you, in his own stupid way. and you also know that keigo doesn’t have the best reputation when it came to relationships. not that most girls minded, because that one night with him was seemingly enough for most of them, that is until he stopped replying to their messages the next day.

but you also know that touya is no better than keigo is. so even if all the things keigo has filled your head with in the past two weeks is bullshit. that all the sweet texts and late night phone calls were all empty nothings, then at least you can say you tried something new. instead of sitting in your room doing all you can to muffle the sound of your roommate fucking some random’s throat on that same couch.

“don’t call me to pick you up when he starts being a fucking creep,” he stretches his tattooed arms, not bothering to look back at you. “i’m having bitch over, so i’ll be busy.”

“because it’s so hard for you to get up from a blowjob?” you say nonchalantly, slipping your jacket off the hook and onto your body.

“exactly.” he glances up at you again when you reach for the door, only making eye contact for a second, that permanently bored look etched on his face as his eyes drag down your body, before he snaps his head back to his phone. “you can fuck off now, she’ll be here soon.”

you can only sigh before securing your shoes on your feet and leaving out the door, being met with the bright smile and even brighter red car that both belong to keigo takami. you watch as he pushes himself off his car, phone shoved into his pocket, freeing both of his hands to rest at your waist.

“you look..” he starts, eyes dragging down between the two of you before meeting yours again, that pretty grin never once leaving his face. “god, do i feel underdressed.”

“stop it.” you shake your head, resting your hands against his chest that’s adorned with a tight black t-shirt, fingers playing with the gold chain that rests on top of it. “i think you look great how you are.”

“oh, you think?” he asks, eyebrows raised.

“i think.” you confirm, letting go of the pendant and tapping his chest. “you ready to go?”

“i thought we could just stand here for the rest of the night.”

playfully, you swat at his chest, laughing when he lets out the fakest of groans, clutching his chest dramatically. once he finally ‘recovers’, he opens the passenger door of his car for you, letting you settle inside before closing it behind you and jogging over to the driver's side.

the rest of the night seems to go just as good. with him as chivalrous, just as sweet; he lets you play whatever you want on the aux, even nodding along with it, though there’s no way in hell he’s ever actually heard half of the songs that you play. he’d opened all your doors for you, pulled out your chair at the restaurant, and of course paid for your food despite the way you insisted you could pay for it on your own.

“everything tonight is my treat,” he smiled for the umpteenth time, something that you’ve found to be progressively harder to deny; something so sweet that it distracts you from the possible venom behind the next words that fall from his mouth. “you can always pay me back another time.”

it’s fine after that even, or it seems to be. after dinner, he insists on ice cream. the desert menu at the restaurant was just a bit too pricey for either of your liking, so the local mom and pop’s shop would suffice, if not exceed the fifteen dollar small plate of chocolate cake that you could’ve had.

“it feels so good out tonight.” you hear him say, one arm resting around your frame. “we should drive around and eat.”

the breeze does have plenty of warmth to it, so much that you actually ditched your jacket. you agree without much thought, smiling and leaning into his sturdy frame. as the line moves up. he starts chatting you up about one of the bands you played on the ride over, going on about how every other song seemed to be by them. the two of you talk music until you’re back in his car, then you’re having to struggle to eat because he just won't stop making you laugh.

you’re so caught up in the charm that you don't even notice whenever he pulls into the empty parking lot and rolls the windows down before he kills the engine.

“you’re so easy to talk to.” he rests his head back on the seat, before rolling it over to look at you. “thanks for hanging out with me.”

you can feel warmth creep on your cheeks as you play in the last bits of your now melted ice cream.

“why wouldn’t i?”

he laughs, raising an eyebrow. “i don't really see you hanging out with anyone.” he shrugs, glancing down to the cold cup that’s still nearly full in his hand.

“well, i’ll have you know,” you furrow your eyebrows playfully. “i hang out with my roommate whenever we’re in the living room at the same time, and that’s at least twice a week.”

you can feel yourself soften into the seat at the sound of his soft laugh, warmth blooming in your chest when his deep dimples show in the dim light from the parking lot.

he stares at you for just a moment, golden eyes glancing down to your lips back up to meet yours again. he leans in without another word, meeting your lips with his own and you can taste the vanilla ice cream on his tongue before he even slides it into your mouth.

his free hand comes up to cup your nape, fingers digging into your skin to pull you deeper into the kiss,

“d’you wanna get in the back seat?” he nods behind him as if you needed to know where it was.

“actually, keigo.. i don’t want-”

“fuck!” he jumps back, pulling at the crotch of his pants to keep the now spilled cold and runny ice cream from touching his skin.

“holy shit how did you-”

“is- i gotta- fuck, it’s gonna stain.”

you can’t help but laugh at the whine in his voice at the idea of his precious khaki pants staining with white, his head snaps over to you struggling to hide the sound.

“you think this is funny?” his eyes widen, as he looks back down to the mess in his lap. “i gotta go change.”

he starts the car again, one hand still holding the material off his skin the best he can manage as he maneuvers his way back to the big blue house with unreadable greek letters on the front. you find that it’s quiet, light chatting coming from the living room, and some gun fire playing off the tv, but not much other than that.

“you can come and wait in my room if you’d like, i’m just gonna shower.” he motions his free hand up the stairs, smiling when you start padding behind him.

another thing that catches you off guard is how clean his room is. not that he comes off as a dirty kind of guy, and it’s not like any of the rumours about him ever included his decor choices, but it was just so neat. no clutter, no cups, not even a sock hanging out of his laundry basket.

letting yourself fall onto his perfectly made bed, and almost instantly regretting it when the comforter wrinkles underneath you, you finally check your phone, finding messages from your roommate you must've missed the vibrations from over twenty minutes ago.

stinky bastard: | hows it going? |

stinky bastard: | not that i give a shit |

you nearly snort at the time stamps, how they were sent within the same minute and all you can think about is how fast he tried to recover from showing that he does in fact give a shit.

sent: | thought you were busy? |

after you press send, you lock your phone. it had been nearly half an hour ago since he sent that, so if he wasn’t then, he most likely is now. you’re most likely not going to get another reply for another thirty min- ding.

stinky bastard: | dont avoid my fuckin question |

stinky bastard: | but i’m getting my dick sucked as we speak |

sent: | make sure you clean the couch this time when you’re done |

stinky bastard: | spit that has been on my balls is an upgrade for this couch |

you audibly laugh at that, remembering all the times he’d be in his boxers, and you’d catch him walking from the bathroom with a wet rag about to wipe up the mess left on the couch seat, mumbling about how he should just ‘throw the fuckin’ thing out.’ as if the two of you could afford a new one.

sent: | what do you have against the poor couch? |

stinky bastard: | a lot, actually. |

you hover your thumbs over the keyboard, shaking your head at your roommate and his imaginary beef with the inanimate object before the sound of the shower turning off catches your attention, but another buzz brings you back to your phone.

stinky bastard: | he being a creep yet? |

sent: | touya, no |

you stand, though you’re not really sure why. tapping the corners of your phone, you walk mindlessly over to the dresser, glancing up at your reflection before turning to lean against it.

stinky bastard: | she’s not too good so i could come get you if you needed |

sent: | i’m fine, touya |

“sorry,“ you hear keigo apologize as he enters the room. “i forgot to grab some clothes.”

you look up to see him draped only in a white towel, one that’s tied loosely around his waist, looking like it’s going to fall any second as he closes the door behind him. heat creeps it’s way back up into your cheeks and you’re sure you look insane with how wide your eyes have gotten.

“don’t worry, i’ll go get dressed in the bathroom.” he laughs, no doubt trying to put your crazy expression at ease.

“right, yeah.” you mumbled, nodding, trying to look anywhere but at his toned chest, or at the way the water was still dripping from his hair down to the dips of his sculpted stomach, or even at the line of dirty blonde hair that leads below the towel to only god- and twenty something girls on campus- know what.

you feel him before you realize that he’s actually there. standing in front of you smirking as he looks down at you, and you can feel the heat off of his body, for a second you just stand there wondering if he’s always that warm or if the warmth of the shower is still sticking to him.

“you know,” his hands find themselves on your waist once again, his head tilted down as he leans his lips to brush against yours. “if you didn’t want me to put any clothes on, you could’ve said that.”

you gasp when you realise where you’ve come to stand and that you’re quite literally blocking the man from putting anything on.

“i’m sorry, i-”

he shushes you, nudging you to look up at him with his nose.

“it’s okay,” his voice is soft, then same as his lips as they press against yours once again. slowly, you ease into it, just like you did before. but the weight of his hands feel heavy, like sandpaper against your skin as they dip under your clothes and drag against your skin

his mouth makes it’s way from your own down to your chin, where he leaves open kisses against your neck. “i’d just end up taking them back off anyways.”

you feel him part your legs with his knee, hands gripping into your softness to pull you closer to him, to control your movements as he tries to get you to grind down against him.

“keigo, i don’t-” a sound escapes you at the worst possible moment when he starts to suck on the sensitive spot at the base of your neck. and the sound of his voice, soft and condensing in your ear makes you want the floor to swallow you whole.

“sounds like you do to me.”

you push at his chest to no avail, his sturdy body locking you into his own.

“keigo-” you groan as the uncomfortable feeling of him sucking your skin between his teeth. “please,” you plead, though you’re not even sure he’s listening. “stop.”

“i’m sorry,” he pulls back finally, leaning his forehead against your own, one of his hands coming to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “you’re just so pretty.”

“thank you, keigo, i’m just-” you can feel the shake in your voice as you speak and your face grows hotter when you know he can hear it.

“what’s wrong, dove?”

you’re sure if the situation wasn’t what it was, that pet name would make your heart soar.

“i’m not comfortable.” you admit, hoping he would drop all of it so that you could go back to the light hearted conversations that started the night.

“right.” he nods, pulling back slowly. “the bed’s probably better anyways.” that smile plasters itself back on his face and you feel your heart sink into your stomach when he tugs you by your wrist with him.

you thank whatever deity is out there watching over you when a crash downstairs stops him in his tracks. though the feeling of relief is quickly washed away with the grip he still holds on you and look on his face as snaps his head over to the door with naked anger, the cracks of his nice guy facade stripping down.

“you can’t fucking go up there!”

a slam follows the shout, and another after that.

“watch me.”

there’s heavy steps up the stairs, sounds that echo through the otherwise quiet house. just as keigo begins to let go of you, to approach the door to his room, it swings open and your roommate stands at the entryway staring back at you.

“can i help you?” keigo chimes in, stepping in front of you, trying to break eye contact between you two.

“nah, piss stain, you can’t.” touya quickly retorts, not sparing him a look, still eyeing you over the shorter man’s shoulder.

“what are you doing here?” you blink, words barely above a whisper but you know they both hear you.

“you didn’t text me back.” he shrugs.

“we’re busy.” keigo makes it a point to adjust his towel slightly before looking back over his shoulder with a smirk. “isn’t that right?”

you can’t miss how touya’s lip ring twitches, a habit he’s picked up when he’s trying to bite his tongue.

“no,” you let out meekly, bumping shoulders with the blonde as you walked past him, hoping touya’s presence would spare you from another bruising grab at your wrist, and lucky you, it does. “we weren’t.”

you miss the deathly glare they give one another, but you do turn around in time to catch a glimpse of keigo’s back tattoo as he throws his phone into the mattress. you think about how all the other girls described the wings to be so beautiful, how his muscles flexing only added to the serene scene, and now you start to wonder if any other part of their stories were just as fabricated.

“thank you.” you sigh as you lean your head against his back, hands wrapped firmly around his waist as he moves to start the bike’s engine.

“i wasn’t doing anything anyways.” you feel him shrug before he hits the kickstand with this boot and heads out onto the street.

there’s something comforting about being this close to touya, despite how just minutes ago you felt like you needed to scrub your body clean and you never wanted to be less than two feet away from anyone ever again. the way touya relaxes under you, how he breathes calmly despite being on a two wheel death machine, the smell of his three in one clinging to his skin, it makes you want to fall asleep right there. and you almost do, if not for the, again, two wheeled death machine.

he doesn’t say anything when the two of you make it back to the apartment, or whenever you get out of the shower, he leaves your favorite snacks on the counter without even asking if you wanted them. and when you come into the living room, you find him in his spot on the corner of the couch with the fuzzy blanket of his that you always threaten to steal right next to him.

you sit down, taking the blanket and wrapping yourself in it. two of you sit in silence for a while, save the sound of you digging into the plastic that holds your snacks and the show that play quietly on the tv. but there’s not much that you can really find the energy to say. slowly, you start to lean into his warmth, thankfully humming whenever he drops his arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest.

“i’ll kick his teeth in if you want me to.” he whispers against the crown of your head.

you breathe a laugh out, shaking your head.

“or i could get some money off my old man and pay someone else to do it.” he rubs your arm slowly, his warm hands, as callous as they are, feel like silk as they brush against you. “since you care too much about me getting into trouble.”

you let out a small giggle out that time, a weak smile creeping up on your face.

“and why would you think that?”

you know your voice sounds broken, that all the crying you did in the shower took its toll and that it would be obvious now, but with touya, you can’t find a reason to care.

“because i know you.” he leans his cheek against your head, pulling you a little closer to his side. “you care too much about everything.”

you sigh, relaxing further into his hold.

“you think that’s why i wanted to go with him?” you ask, not really expecting an answer. “‘cause if everything he said was true, if he really meant all the sweet things he said to me-”

“you thought it would hurt his feelings.” you feel touya’s head shake slowly. “guys like that don’t even have feelings.”

“you don’t have feelings either though.” you joke, looking up at him whenever you feel his weight lift off of you.

you’re met with those bright blue eyes looking back into yours.

“and what makes you think that?”

your breath catches in your throat when you realise how close the two of you are, how much different it all is with him compared to the piece of shit you’d been with earlier.

“all the girls you have over..” you start but the sight of him twitching his lip ring catches your train of thought and you can’t find any words to finish the sentence.

“they come willingly.” he states, brows furrowing like he’s thinking over his words. “but i guess i don’t feel anything with them,” he rolls his head back towards the tv, lip rings swinging back and forth before he speaks again. “not unless i picture them as you.”

your mind swims with too many thoughts to even begin to process what he could mean by that.

“i’m not some kind of fucking creep, and i wouldn’t try anything after the shit you’ve been through tonight, i just,” he throws his head back on the couch staring up at he ceiling as he sighs. “i don’t know why the fuck i opened my mouth.”

“touya,” you squeeze your eyes closed, letting out a deep breath before you move, pushing yourself up to straddle his lap. he doesn’t move an inch, not even to pick his head up to look at you when you settle there. and he probably would just stay like that if you didn’t physically pick up his head and force him to look at you. “what the fuck are you saying?”

he just blinks at you for a moment, those pretty eyes searching for something in yours. you can feel his pulse under your fingertips, his soft, warm skin thumping slightly under your touch.

“i don’t have feelings,” he sighs, leaning his cheek into your palm, eyes still focused on you. “not until it comes to you.”

you open your mouth to speak, but the words leak out of your brain before you can form any kind of sentence with them.

“i can’t say sweet shit to make you like me, or take you to nice ass resturants with those fancy fucking forks,” you start to panic when your heart beats against your chest, afraid that he’ll be able to feel it aswell. “but i sit on this stupid ass couch all fucking day, waiting for you to come in here and talk to me because you’re the only person who makes me feel anything.”

“touya..”

“and i let you go on that date with that fucker knowing damn well how fucking sick he is-”

“touya.” you interrupt, thumbs running over the highs of his cheeks.

he closes his mouth, blinking at you, waiting for whatever else you wanted to say, though he’d be fine if you just said his name again and again until time ended.

“kiss me.”

and he listens, slowly he leans down, giving you every chance to push him away, to tell him nevermind, that you didn’t actually want him to. but it never comes, instead you lean forward, still cradling his face in your hands as your lips mesh with his. it’s soft, slow, each move of your lips against his feels so full of purpose, so full of feeling.

cautiously, like you’re a wild bunny going to jump from his lap at any second, he rests his hands at your sides, just feeling your body above him. only resting the weight of them fully when you start humming happily into his mouth at the contact.

his hands feel warm and light against your skin, setting your ablaze under every inch that they trail over. you melt into him, you go to move your hands from his face, to find perch in his hair or on his shoulders to pull yourself closer to him, but they don’t get far off his cheeks before he’s capturing your wrists and keeping them there.

“don’t,” he warns when you pull back to speak. “just don’t.”

you laugh, leaning back in only to be stopped.

“not here,” he shakes his head, still keeping your hands attached to his face. “not on this stupid fucking couch.”

you lean your head back in laughter, something that brings a small smile onto touya’s face, something only you can do. a moment later, he’s dragging you to the door of his room and leading you in. the hold he has on you is loose, giving you every chance to pull away but you continue to follow him.

he walks over to change the color of his led lights, letting you linger behind him and take in the sight of his room. it’s a little messy, with things thrown here and there, but not too bad where you can’t walk or see his floor. surprisingly enough it smells good, like pine and a campfire.

“stop looking at my mess.” he mumbles coming back to you, pulling your hands back up to his face.

“but, i like your mess.” you say back, watching as his white teeth peek from behind his lips, reflecting the dark blue light in a way that makes your heart skip a few beats.

“you’re crazy, you know that?” he shakes his head, ducking down to pull you into another kiss, the two of you stumbling blindly until the back of your legs meet his bed and you fall out of his hold and on your back.

“then what does that make you?” you breath as you prop yourself up on your elbows, watching him as he picks up your thighs and shoves you farther on his bed.

“if you’re crazy, i’m in-fucking-sane.”

he peels his shirt off by the bottom hem, exposing his tattooed stomach that you can’t remember if you’ve ever paid attention to before. his hands fall just above your shoulders as he leans down over you, nudging you chin with his nose in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. the feeling of his lips dragging up the column of your neck making heat start to pool in your stomach. you whine out something adjacent to his name as he starts to pepper kisses along your collarbone, and you can feel the comforter underneath you tighten with his fist.

a shaky breath is let out against your skin before he pulls himself back up to look into your eyes, resting his against yours and you can’t help but press your lips against his again despite that he definitely was about to say something. when you pull back, his eyes are closed and he’s nearly panting against your lips.

“you sure about this?” his eyes flutter open to look for your response, one that comes in a nod.

“say it for me.” he whispers, so softly that you’re sure if your bodies weren’t pressed together you wouldn’t have been able to hear it.

“i want you, touya.”

and his lips are on yours again, soft and sweet in a way that is anything but touya, but just like him all the same. the kiss is passionate, deep enough to pull sounds from your throat and make you completely dizzy. so much so that you wouldn’t even have noticed when he has started to pull your shirt off if he didn’t ask for permission before he did it, same with your shorts, and every other piece of clothing that you had left.

with each one he strips off of you, he presses kisses to the spot that the fabric had left bare for him, first your stomach, then the top of your thigh, followed by your sternum, then your hips. each press of his lips against your sensitive skin leaves you more eager, fills your stomach with want, and no doubt is leaving you with a mess of arousal between your thighs, waiting for him to finally touch you where you wanted him most.

you groan at the thought of his fingers, the silver that is somehow cold against his burning skin as they graze down your sides, and squeeze at the soft of your thighs. and gasp at the feeling of his lips, soft and also adored with cool metal as he kisses from your navel up to your throat.

“what is it?” he mumbles into your skin. “hm, baby?” his lips find their way to your ear, words hot against the shell of it.

“i wanna feel you, touya.” you whisper, hands reaching around his shoulder to hold him against you.

“but i’m all over you, doll.” he tsk’s back, obviously wanting you to be more clear with what you’re asking for.

“i want to feel you inside of me, touya.” you can feel your cheeks heat with the blunt words but you can’t find a reason to care, not if it’ll lead you to finally seeing how far his fingers can reach.

“oh, is that all?” he lets out a shaky laugh, fake confidence starting to crack as he shifts his weight onto one of his forearms, looking between your face and his hand that traces down the curves of your body until it meets with the apex of your thighs.

“you just tell me when to stop.” he whispers before kissing you, leaving himself hovering just above your lips.

his middle finger comes to slide along your slit, up to meet your clit with a few experimental circles around it. it draws a gasp from your lips, the feeling of the tip of it prodding at your entrance enough to force another out of you.

“did you hear me?” he asks, voice still soft.

you nod in response, not trusting your voice when you’re so doped out on the promise of ecstasy. but, clearly that wasn’t the right answer, you notice as he pulls his hand from your heat to rub at your thigh.

“i heard you, touya.” you whine out. “i’ll tell you when i want you to stop, i swear, please just fucking touch me.”

and again, he listening to your plead, fingers instantly finding their way back to your cunt. the tip of his middle finger starting to prod against your entrance, his lips making their way to your jaw as he starts to press in, his ear as close to your mouth as he could get it without being completely obvious.

pretty little gasps tumble from your lips as he starts a rhythm with it, pushing it all the way into the knuckle, letting you feel the cool metal against your cunt before he pulls back out, turning his wrist as he does so. you have his finger completely soaked by the second time he does this, which only motivates him to give you-

“more.” you whimper desperately.

he adds another, turning his wrist so he can press his fingertips up against that soft wall that has you letting out even sweeter, louder sounds. each flick of his hand has you seeing stars, the knot of pleasure in your stomach starting to fray away already, and each sound you tumble out, each pulse of your walls around his digits, has him grinding harder into the mattress below you.

“wait, wait, wait-” you say with no real urgency, cursing yourself of shaving off your high.

he retreats from your body immediately, leaning up on his knees so that he wasn’t touching you at all.

“you okay? did i hurt you?” he puts his hands up, making it easy for you to grab them and pull him back on top of you before he tries to slip off the bed completely.

you shake your head to answer his question as he eases himself back over you.

“i said i wanted to feel you, touya.”

you can see even in the dim blue light how his eyes widen the slightest bit, the way his mouth parts and you can feel the way his hands twitch again into the blanket by your head.

“yeah?” his voice is shaky, breathier than before. “is that really what you want?”

“mhm,” you hum back, feeling secure with him, knowing that with touya, this was safe, you were safe. “i want you, touya.”

“fuck,” he pulls himself from you, reaching over and digging through his nightsand drawer for god knows what before returning back to you with a shiny package that he bites and tears with his teeth. “you just tell me-”

“when to stop;” you finish for him. “i know, i will.”

he smirks down at you as he tugs the top of his boxers down, not missing the way your eyes dart down to catch sight of the size of him. and god does he revel in the way you lick your lips at the way his cock slaps up against his stomach. your eyes flutter between his face and the way he slowly unrolls the condom down the length of him.

“can i?” you ask, not expecting to hear the groan that’s only muffled by the way he bites his lip.

after he nods, hand retreating from his cock, letting it slap back up against his belly button, you lean up on your forearm, reaching to wrap around it and work the condom down just the tiniest bit faster. you can’t help but try to savour the sweet seconds that his hips jump forward towards your fist, or the way the curve of it feels against your palm. you regret not dragging it out longer because the second it seems to be completely unrolled, he’s pushing your shoulder back into the bed.

“such a tease.” you hum against his lips, one arm coming to rub his shoulders, the other cradling the back of his head. you mimic the feeling of his smile against your mouth, but it only lasts for a moment. the feeling of him rubbing the tip of his cock along your slit enough to make your face drop with pleasure. he takes his time, circling your clit with it before sliding it down to your entrance to push in the smallest bit before pulling his hips back again and repeating the motion all over.

“‘nd i’m the te-” you try to huff, only to be cut off by touya finally pushing past the head into your warmth. even with just a few shallow strokes, you can feel him pressing up against your most sensitive spots.

“were you saying somethin’?” he laughs above you, watching your face in awe as your eyes roll back with each cant forward of his hips. “c’mon,” you hear his voice become breathy once again. “let me hear you.”

and without a second thought, you let your lips part, each sound falling from your throat without a care. you mind too focus on the way his cock stretches you, how the tip of him presses so perfectly against your g-spot, how full he makes you feel and he hasn’t even fully bottomed out.

“‘so good” you whimper out as he drags his hips back once again, the slow, sensual pace making it even harder to work your brain.

he drops down closer to you, lips against your own like he wanted to taste every moan you made.

“‘s good, baby?” he asks softly, hips stuttering for a second but never once losing their gentle pace.

“mhm,” you attempt to hum, a moan making you drag out the ‘m’ longer than you intended. “feel so good, touya.”

his head drops to your shoulder where he leaves open mouth kisses that only make the feeling in your stomach ten times hotter. it makes you roll your hips up into his desperately, trying to get some friction against your clit, wanting just to get over the edge.

“slow down,” he warns, grabbing your hip with one of his big palms. “if you- fuck-” his hips fall flush with your own when your walls start to grip around him, which makes both of you let out ugly noises simountaliously. “tell me what you need.”

“my clit, i just-” you pant, trying again to roll your hips without any luck. “please, please, i need it.”

not a second later is his hand off your waist and his thumb is stuck to your clit, rubbing perfect circles against it that send warmth spilling out of your cheeks and sending it all down to your cunt. he starts his hips again, the extra stimulation almost sending you over already if your throbbing walls and shaking thighs were anything to go by.

“gonna cum with me?” he asks, knowing your far too gone to answer. “we’re almost there, baby.”

his pace becomes sloppier, faster, but never rougher, the sound of his balls sticking against your ass with each deep thrust he gives mixes with the desperate, pathetically needy sounds fill the room as you both start to feel the static spread through your veins, white and blue heat shooting into your vision and making your body spasm together.

it takes both of you a minute to move, to do anything other than hold one another and try to calm your breathing. but once you both finally come down, touya is pulling himself from you with a groan, face full of disgust as he pulls off the condom and ties it. squeezing it just the slightest bit in front of you so that you both could be sure there were no complications with the rubber. you throw your arm over your eyes as touya walks out to the room and flicks on the light to what has to be the bathroom. you don’t even move when he returns, just letting him take the warm wash cloth and clean you up before he retreats out of the room once again.

“aht aht.” he shakes your leg when he returns, sweats hanging low on his hips. “like hell we’re sleeping in here.”

you would laugh at him were it not for how sleepy you actually were.

“but ‘m tired.” you mumble, rolling over into his pillow.

“it smells like balls in here. lets go to your room.” he offers, gently pulling you up off his mattress.

“so your room can’t smell like balls, but the living room can?” you roll your head against him, letting him hold the majority of your weight as he leads you to your room.

“exactly.”

“gross.” you retort as he sits you on the edge of your bed. “hey, touya.”

“hey, baby.” he responds back, pulling someone’s shirt over your head.

“why did you bring all those girls over here if you liked me?”

the shirt smells like him, you decide.

“because i’m an idiot.”

you nod, not paying any mind to the way he scoffs at the action.

“and why did you always do stuff with them on the couch?”

“because that’s where i always see you,” his hands come to lay on your shoulders as he pulls you back off the mattress. “it was easiest to picture you when we were out there.”

he pulls down your comforter and helps you ease back into the bed, handling you like glass the entire time.

“i guess that makes sense.” you sigh into the pillow, eyes still closed as he lets himself into your bed.

“it doesn’t.”

you don’t waste a second before laying on his chest, not that he doesn’t welcome you by wrapping his arms around you immediately.

“oh and touya,” you start again, making his heart race. thinking it'd be another question about the girls he continued to bring over like an idiot.

“you think we can get rid of the couch now?”

you can feel the vibration of his laugh from where you lay, and sleepily, you half smile at it.

“where am i gonna sit to talk to you then?” he answers with a question of his own.

“right here.” you pat his bare abdomen, fingers moving on their own the moment after to trace the dips of his muscle.

“i dunno,” he sucks in a breath. “we had our first kiss there, it has sentimental value now.”

you raise up quickly from where you lay to snap your head up at him, though it’s probably less intimidating because it takes you a moment to actually open up your eyes.

“kidding.” he assures, pulling you back onto him by your shoulder. “i can always steal some money from my old man for a new one.”

“and we can pick the new one together?” you ask with a yawn.

“whatever you want, angel.” he hums, kissing the crown of your head. “just, no more leather cushions.”

491 notes · View notes