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staraxiaa · 3 months ago

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me when im simply immortalizing all ur tags

where you are

pairing: todoroki shouto x gn! reader status: standalone, drabble, completed wc: 2192

contains: sfw, fluff, pre-established relationship. written w/ female reader in mind, but no pronouns used. reader wears lip gloss.

note: i wrote a thing... this is unbearably selfship coded like . do not perceive me . thank u to @sleepynoons for beta-ing and encouraging this piece, could not have written this without u ! <3

For most of his life, Shouto has thought that the Todoroki residence purportedly fits every definition of the word home.

And for much of it, it does. Home to him has always been characterized by a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, and food to eat. Save for the few years when the latter could still be withheld— until he’d outgrown the tactic, it otherwise checks off every one of these marks. Just like his UA dorm, in that it’s functionally the same— he sleeps there, eats there, trains there, and studies there, so they’re both homes in that sense, but it’s still different, even though he’s fairly certain he still likes the dorm more.

There’s reasons for that, too. It’s unfortunate that he isn’t able to see Fuyumi or Natsuo nearly as often, but that’s almost canceled out by the overwhelming wave of positives— it’s closer to classes, his father isn’t there, but his friends are, and most importantly, so are you. But it’s not a home, not in the way the Todoroki residence is, because it’s not the place where his family by blood stays, where he’s grown up in, nor is it going to be a place he can return to after he graduates. And that, he thinks, is the most fundamental distinction, because home should not be a place of impermanence. Home should be—

Shouto’s not quite sure. It’s not something he dwells on very much, or at all, and he doesn’t, not really, until you prompt the thought one evening, late in third year.

You’re watching the sunset through the glass of your dorm window. He’s not certain about the exact date. There’s been too many things recently to really keep track— it’s sometime in March, certainly, close to graduation, and one of the rare moments of downtime between internships and training and classes. Your hands are in his hair, with his head in your lap, and he’s pretty sure you think his eyes are closed, which is why you prod him. It’s a gentle touch, finger to cheek; not quite enough to startle him from sleep, but just firm enough to capture his attention, if awake.

Obligingly, he opens his eyes. And he must’ve been feigning it well enough, because you look acutely surprised when he does, though he doesn’t need to fake the timbre of his voice. Your lap makes for quite the comfortable pillow, and he’s not sure if it’s the languid way the sun’s draping across him, or just your presence that has sleep coloring his tone. “What is it?”

Gold paints your skin, dappling across your face. Your eyes turn once again to the window, though not before you poke at him again. Harder this time, now that you know he’s awake.

“Sun’s setting. Thought you’d want to see.”

He knows— he’s been watching, and though you’re absentminded as you say it, there’s a warmth that has his own mouth curving in turn. “It’s as beautiful as always.”

You glance back, make a face. Half-scrunched, half pout. “You’re not even looking.”

He doesn’t need to look to know it’s beautiful, and that wasn’t what he’d been staring at, anyways. Still, he obliges you. “Do tell, what else was I supposed to be looking at?”

You catch his meaning. Shouto lets you tug him up this time, to hide your fluster. His head turns at your touch, and he blinks at the glare, the way it blinds him, before you move to shield his eyes.

“The clouds, dummy. Not the sun.”

A hum. He turns his head to the side, and meets your gaze. You’re still pouting a little, and he can’t help the laugh, the crinkle of his eyes, the way his hand moves, feather-soft as it thumbs over your cheek. “I do wonder where you’d heard that from.”

Petulance etches its way onto your features at the tone. “Stop teasing.” You frown at him for it, but there’s no heat, even as you swat him away.

He can’t help the way he leans in then, nor the way his hands find home on your hips, nor how he pulls you close to deepen it. You’re soft against him, the feel of you heady, sweet on his tongue. Something to be savored, as you are, slow and meticulous. And he means to, but then you draw away first. Too soon for his liking, before he’s gotten a proper chance to taste, but the gloss you leave on his lips will have to do— your chest is heaving a little, cheeks flushed mellow.

Satisfaction curls within him, preening and languid, at the sight.

“What was that for?” You ask, still slightly breathless, and he’s not quite sure, though he thinks he should really initiate more often if you’ll end up looking— and sounding— like this. But then your eyes narrow. “I thought we’d agreed to wipe that from memory.”

“We did,” Shouto agrees, amiable. There’s a smile on his face— one that has you whacking at him as he lifts you, but you don’t otherwise protest the movement. He shifts, moving you with him until his back hits the headboard— seated on his lap, the hands on your hips are the only reason you don’t sprawl completely upon him.

You press the tip of an accusatory finger to his lips before he can even think of acting upon his next impulse. “Kisses won’t excuse you from your actions, mister.”

His smile widens, brushing one slyly against said finger. “Forgive me,” he says, half-teasing, though his features are wiped blank, tone appropriately somber. “It won’t happen again.”

A promise, and one the both of you know very well is a lie. You still sniff, anyway. “It had better not,” you say, and he hears your words, watches your mouth form the shapes.

He knows you well enough by now to tell instantly that your haughtiness is feigned. But what he registers is the gold in your hair, the sun framing your face— the way it haloes around you, like something otherworldly, something ethereal. A vision, he thinks. Free of shadow, even amidst the light.

And he hadn’t meant to ask you this early, but there’s a softness to the moment, to the way you’re looking at him, contrary to your tone, the way you are, that has the words escaping before he can think better of it.

“What would you want in a home?”

You blink. There’s surprise there, though he’s not sure if it’s because he’d asked, or the idea itself. “Our home?” You ask, and he thinks— what else?

“... did you plan on living apart even after we marry?”

Reassurance settles into him at the expression that instantly graces your face. It seems you find the notion just as ridiculous.

“I mean, I thought we would move in together eventually, I just wasn’t sure if you’d want it,” you admit— of course I would, bubbles up in his throat, but you amend the words before he can voice it. “Well, at least not so soon.”

He thumbs over the curve of your hip, takes a breath. Just to seem as if it’s a natural progression of thought. “We could right after graduation, if you’d like.”

“Shouto, that’s literally less than a month away. I know we both have jobs lined up, but how are we going to find a place, let alone the money?”

He opens his mouth. You shoot him a look.

“I’m contributing half. That’s non-negotiable. And you’re not using your inheritance to pay.”

This is not entirely out of the realm of expectation. You’ve made your stance quite clear; insistent on paying an equal share of the dates, but he still exaggerates the sulk of his mouth a little— enough that you lean forward to press a kiss to the corner of it, as if to soothe the sting.

There’s a faraway look in your eyes, though, the one you get while you’re thinking, like you’re about to indulge him, so he doesn’t press. You ponder like that for a moment.

“I’d like tatami mats, I think. Traditional decor would be nice, and I’m thinking of something minimalist.”

An eyebrow raises. “I wasn’t asking for what you think I’d like.” His free hand— the one not braced on your hip— reaches up to hold yours to his chest, before you can draw away.

You smile, and there’s a hint of well-meaning guilt to it— you’ve been caught, and you know it. “Well, simple is more, right? Something well-lit, where we could watch the sun?”

“That’s still not much of an answer,” and you seem to sense that this isn’t something he’ll relent in, because you lean forward to tuck yourself into the crook of his neck.

There, you grouse against him. “I don’t know. I’ll like what you like.”

The warmth it lights in his chest is akin to the feel of your breath. His laugh comes, a soft rumble.

“I’m serious.”

You’re sulking, he thinks. The tone of your voice certainly seems to suggest it, and the hand that he finds doesn’t curl into his immediately. You can’t see his face, but he still smiles, wry.

“Tell me? Please?”

You don’t respond, but you don’t pull your hand away as he laces his fingers between yours. And it takes you the whole of a moment, but you seem to have come to a decision, because he feels the sigh leave you.

“It really doesn’t matter to me,” you say, and Shouto can tell you’re not done, because your next breath comes posthaste. “And I mean it, like, I’ve thought about it before, and—” You huff into his neck. “Promise you won’t laugh.”

He smiles at the way you bump your chin against his collarbone. Once, then twice— he relents only because he’s fairly certain it’s hurting you more than it does him. “I won’t.”

“You promise?”

“I promise I won’t laugh.”

You’re embarrassed to say it. He’s usually not very good at these things, but he’s always been able to tell when it comes to you, and it’s evident from the way you quieten, press yourself into him. But he waits, as he always does, because it’s not that you don’t want to tell him, and you do, though it comes in a rush. “Home for me is wherever you are,” you say, and he’s the one to pause, then.

He’s not sure why it strikes him so much. Maybe it’s the way you’ve muttered them, though it’s barely audible, like a soft prayer, silent reverence, your breath like a simple supplication across his skin. He wonders if you can feel the warmth of it, sense the flush that seems to be creeping across his face, if you can hear his heart, how fast it’s beating, and you must, because he can feel the drumming of yours. Maybe it’s the vulnerability of the moment, or maybe it’s just because it’s you. But—

( Home for me is wherever you are, you say, and this is what it is, he thinks. This is the distinction between a home and a place that has been lived in; the fundamental difference that lies beyond a roof over his head, a bed to sleep in, and food to eat. Home is not a house where he has lived the most of his childhood and then adolescent years, where he’d learned to walk quiet in— first to avoid the titanic temper that ruled it, and then to skirt the hauntings of all that had happened; of the living and the gone and the dead, in the years to come after. Home is not that house, nor is it necessarily the place he has come to create the bulk of his fondest memories in, even though it is a place where he has no longer come to walk quietly by instinct in, but by choice. Home is not a place of impermanence, but that does not mean it is necessarily a place defined by permanence, even if he still thinks it should be something similar, though maybe not quite— )

Home for me is wherever you are, you say, and it’s all he can do to press a kiss to your shoulder, half atop the ratty fabric of your tee, and half upon the bare skin that lies beneath, to tamp down the beat of his heart— one that seems like it’s swelling too large for the confines of his chest. The feeling that wells up in him is an alien one, he thinks, not quite unfamiliar, but one he’s only really come to feel as of recent, and only ever around you.

You spend a moment like that. You, with your face tucked into the crook of his neck, and him into yours, mute from the way his throat squeezes, vicelike and tight. But your fingers— the ones laced in his— curl, gentle but firm, and he clutches at them the same way he breathes you in; pressing feather-light worship to the column of your skin.

( Home he thinks, is something of a feeling. )

Home, he thinks, is something just like this.

#srb #hfa;lkdsfj im so happy the og version also made u want to comment 'im on my knees' LOL #bc i look back on it and think like . wow . editing really does wonders #i actually put my whole writerussy into trying to make it as soft as possible bc i wanted there to be a specific overall vibe #so im glad u thought it came through with the actions !!! ALSO THE KISS SCENE IM STILL AHSDLKFJ #me when i have to use vague descriptions (that will be reused in every kiss scene i write from this point on) gg.#i also find kisses sorta gross irl AHDFHSH so im honored that u'd want to find a bf to reenact it ?? but pls find urself a good bf if u do #<33 #i hc shouto is the cheekiest mf ever so im also glad that was portrayed in the writing !!#tysm for reading pookie ily

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atrirose · 3 months ago

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⠀⠀⠀ ONLY FOR YOU ε🪴⁺ you making them flustered

synopsis : things you do that makes them flustered

ft . bf ! enha x f ! r cw. kissing, skinship .. sfw, fluff ✶ wc. 1k ◜ ◝ seiu : hope you enjoy ^^ its the enha pov of my pervious post that ik i did long back but its alright.

HEESEUNG

his hearts melt when you reassure him, tell him you are proud of him or compliment him, he is a sucker for it, could be any moment and he would just turn into a puddle for it.

he looked at you in disbelief as you emptied his portion of cake that he baked “yn, that was mine you already had yours” he pout, on the verge of tears “baby you baked so good it was so yummy i couldn’t control myself sorry but you are such a great cook” if he had a tail it would have been wagging right now “you think so? oh my okay you know what i will make more for you, im glad you liked it” he rubbed his cheeks on yours , while you celebrated escaping that.

“i’m proud of you hee” you plop yourself next to him as he put his head down on your lap “you did great out there” after a long day work these words are his favorite to hear, it makes it all worth it. he looks at you big eyed

“you make everything fade into the background”

JAY

pda and sweet or flirty messages always gets him smiling, though jay likes to keep it nonchalant and cool on the exterior but if you hold his hand or kiss his cheek in the public his ears will turn read despite his best efforts to stay cool “we are in public my love” he whispers “so what” you smile.

also giggles when you text him, tries his best to not show or answer your text in a fraction of a second and focus on his work but he fails miserably everytime “today was so tiring, i want to stay home with you always” collapses on you, hugging you tight “and you are a meanie too, teasing me like that” you giggled at his whiny voice “you can always come home jay”

“i could spend a lifetime just watching you.”

JAKE

being centre of attention by you, he loves attention but from you only, it makes him giddy “then this step was a little difficult but i worked hard on it, so i guess im good now, maybe?” you were doing your work but jake bust in to show his new dance to you so of course you had to give up everything and watch him “it’s really clean jake you did a great job” you got up from the sofa and pecked his cheek.

his whole face got red, not like you haven’t kissed his cheek before but nothing gets him like you sweet compliments and your dreamy eyes giving him 100 percent of your attention, even if he is trying to pull something stupid.

“i must be dreaming because there's no way you're real.”

SUNGHOON

wearing clothes he picked out, sunghoon takes pride in knowing his girl better than anyone, no surprise he picks up on your dislikes and likes, he tries his best to style something that makes you feel like the most beautiful “i was out yesterday and i thought this white dress would look great on but then i saw this necklace and then i thought its the prefect match so here” he smiles,“thank you so much i love these kind of dresses you know me so well” you hug him, inner him is jumping and rolling.

“i’m ready hoon let’s go” he turns back to see you wearing the dress he bought you “oh my goodness, how can you look so beautiful effortlessly” you giggle at his compliments, he is a gone case, a loser if you may, for you. totally smitten and starstruck.

“how am I supposed to look at anything else after seeing you like this?”

SUNOO

loves handmade gift, it gets his heart racing, he feels the most special when you sit to crochet after learning it online, even though the heart bag looks more like a square he would accept it lovingly, in fact he is the most happiest you would ever see him, he would be seen with that bag at every given moment “i love it no please” he said as you tried to take back the bag “but it’s embarrassing sunoo” , he is the type to have all your handmade cards and notes stacked in a box, polaroids of you and him, all your favorite memories to look back to.

“anything you make for me is never embarrassing, i will treasure everything with my whole heart”

JUNGWON

making direct eye contact or looking at him heart eyes when he is talking, nothing gets him all blushing mess, ears red, hiding his face like you do, you always look at him lovingly, humming and nodding, listening carefully. randomly touching his cheeks or tucking his hair behind his ears, gracing his ears “go on hun”

“no” he said burying his head in his hands, all flustered and red “why not” you giggled “because you are teasing me” he huffed glaring at you “stop playing yn”

“sorry won you just look so beautiful when you talk” you bite his cheeks “ow meanie” — “what were you going to say”

“you are so stunning i forgot what i was going to say”

RIKI

pulling him by his tie to kiss him , him being tall is extra fun when he can tease you when you try to kiss him “riki please” you tip toe to reach his lips only for him to smirk and not help you “please what yn?” you pout at his smug face boasting his height “bend down” you pulled on his tie which caught him off guard, your lips smacked on his.

his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer him, your body flushed with his, your hands still gripping his tie “you can really make anything possible huh?” he giggled , cheeks red “you can let my tie go now” he tired to free his tie trying to hide the fact his heart is beating so fast “now you get how it feels to me teased” his hands still on your waist, he kissed your cheeks.

“how did i get so luck to be with someone like you”

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