#kidding…….. kinda.. it’s just funny imagining letting tension build bc ur too stupid

[princematcha]

shouto todoroki x reader || wc: 2k

cw: no pronouns for reader but in a dress, 1 mention of drugs (a joint), alcohol, everyone’s a little tipsy, sfw

pls no minors or ageless blogs

You’ve kissed Shouto, once. 

If anyone asked, you would say no. That they’re wrong, he’s been one of your closest friends for forever. You’ve never thought about him like that when your other friends want to hear something “hot,” oh my god, he’s your friend. 

You’ve never looked a little too long at the skin of his abdomen that peeks out when he takes off a sweater and his shirt rides up. Never woken up before him after falling asleep next to each other, and just admire him.

(You’ve gotten used to not looking at his face too much. He once adjusted his hair over his left eye when you were smoking together and you were staring at him. You asked him what was wrong and he asked if he had anything on his face as he took the joint from your hand. Shouto swallowed hard when you told him he was heartbreakingly pretty, his adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced around your face. 

Sober you apologized. 

Shouto still angles himself in his interviews, right side facing the cameras.)

Never known the feeling of his chest to yours as you breathe heavy breaths into each other’s mouths.

–it was New Year’s Eve.

//cut//

Your head hurt. You couldn’t remember if you hit it, or if it was because you smoked half a cigarette on the balcony with your friends after quitting cold turkey half a year earlier. Standing in your and Shouto’s kitchen in the way too nice apartment, you filled a glass at the sink. There’s a pitcher in the fridge, but you just downed two shots and there was already a glass rim down by the sink.

You turned around as Shouto rounded the corner to see you gulping water.

“Hello.”

You lifted a hand off of the counter to wave to him. He watched in silence as you finished the cup. You teetered back and forth on the heated marble floors, then slouched against the crowded counter.

Shouto was wearing a dark grey suit, blazer thrown over his arm. The off-white button-up underneath was rumpled by the collar and around his waist, partially untucked from his pants. Cufflinks you helped him choose and put on: gone; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

He shrugged and leaned onto the archway next to the fridge. Messing with a picture of the two from a purikura on a boardwalk, “Why? Need me gone?”

You smiled and shook your head, “No, always want you here.”

He glanced at you.

Sliding your glass across the counter until it hits a cheese platter one of your friends brought, you looked down at his mismatched socks, “I thought you had a hero thing. Fancy party with,” you picked up an empty bottle of overly sweet wine with a celebrity printed across the front, “fancy food.”

Shouto huffed, a small dimple on his left cheek showing itself, “Who needs fancy food when I’ve got this at home.” He ran his eyes back and forth the counter as he stepped closer, getting stuck on you twice. “They didn’t have any konbini mochi there.”

You laughed when he shook the room-temperature sakura mochi at you, Shouto giving a small smile at yours.

“What about your friends? People you actually like?” You joked. When you asked him if you could host a small get-together for New Years and told him who would be coming, his face stayed purposely flat. Your friends were a lot when you were able to wrangle them into one place.

His head tilted, “I like you.”

“I know you do.” His smile dropped a touch, goosebumps rose up your bare legs, a chill suddenly in the air, “It would be weirder if you didn’t.”

Shouto stared into you like the time you came home with tears in your eyes after your partner broke up with you and suddenly you felt as if you said something wrong.

“You know because– we, uh, live together.” Words fell out of your mouth like water between your teeth. “And we’re-”

The glass door to the balcony slid open and one of your friends came ambling through, yelling Shouto’s last name the minute she saw him, inviting him out for a drink.

You smiled up at him, ready to be free from that look.

“You comin'?”

Making Shouto play drinking games was much easier than you anticipated, though no one was prepared for how horribly good he was at every single one of them. 

After the third game of beer pong with the other side of the table left with one solo cup, and your shared side missing just one cup, you hip-bumped him out of the way when it was his turn. 

“This is ridiculous. You’re ridiculous.”

You saw him look down at you in your peripheral vision as you aimed your throw, the world shifted and wobbled before you. 

“You asked me to come out here,” Shouto says. 

Your friend loosely ushered you back telepathically, her quirk tired and unfocused. “Too close,” she muttered, “Rules.”

“I thought we were going to play a game, not demolish my friends with no mercy.” You threw the ping-pong ball. 

It bounces once on the table and then rolls off to the side. Your friends cheered, hugging each other in great celebration.

“Are you not having fun?” Shouto’s mouth is much closer to your ear than you were prepared for, warm breath running over your ear and neck. You find yourself staring as he stands back up to his full height.

Your eyes dashed between his. “I’m, yeah, of course.”

He nodded and opened his mouth to say more, but a door slammed open, shouts of how the countdown is soon. 

You gazed out over the balcony, Tokyo feeling crackly and alive. People in the streets with their heads pointed up to see the fireworks that would shortly fill the night sky. 

“Do you remember when I spent a few months in the States?” Shouto asks after all of your friends shuffle inside. 

You stared at your hand as your eyes unfocused, half of it disappearing for the glowing building behind it. “I don’t think I could forget Shou, could’ve bought out half of Japan with the international phone bills.” You smiled at him to show you were joking. 

He blinked at you slowly like a sleepy cat. 

“You celebrated with your family that year.” You nodded as he spoke. 

Shouto celebrated in the States; alone. “I meant to call you back the next-”

“You were there when it mattered.”

You turned to him, your back to the city. He was staring at you, but you weren’t sure if he ever really looked away from you. There’s a serene look on his face that makes you want to ask him anything, everything. Questions you’ve already asked, questions that roll into your brain when you’re bored, questions you can only ask in dreams. 

Why he texted you every morning and every night when he was across the world. Why he shares an apartment with you that he could afford a dozen of. Why he was standing right in front of you looking like he could-

“There’s a, ah, tradition they have,” he rubbed his palm on his slacks, “Back there. In the states.”

He stares at the air over your head as you wait for him to continue, you like hearing about his travels, his thoughts. “At the end of the countdown. They kiss someone.”

Your thoughts stalled, “Oh.”

“For good luck.”

“Ah.” Your eyes betrayed you as your focus darted down to his mouth. Lips parted, a small cut running over his bottom lip from a fight he was in the other day. The cold always makes them a tint darker, you suspected he wore lipstick for a bit in high school. “Did you-?”

Shouto watched your gaze bounce down and up. “No.” 

“Cool.” You found yourself interested in a hair that fell on his shoulder. “Sorry.” What? Is going on. 

“Your dress.” He suddenly said, walking towards you with determination in his eye. 

You glanced down and saw a strap was falling, moving to push it up and thank him, but his hand met your shoulder before you could. “I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” You whispered.

Shouto’s palm didn’t leave your shoulder, warm fingers playing with the fabric of the thin strap. Skin soft on yours. 

He smelt like mint. And tea. You accidentally took too deep of a breath, head dizzy with the smell of him; you leaned against his chest. Shouto didn’t say anything, his heartbeat raced against your head, his firm chest stilled. 

“I thought about you every day.”

“Me too,” you spoke into his shirt.

“I, still, think about you every day.”

You looked up at him. “You see me every day?” 

“Not enough.” He gazed directly into your eyes, and the feeling dripped over you like warmed honey. You wrapped a finger around one of his belt loops, readying a question in your mind. 

“Ten!” 

The shout of your friends inside made you jump, Shouto smiled as he slid his hand from your shoulder over your neck and onto your cheek. 

“I’ve thought about this-”

“Nine!”

“About you,”

“Eight!”

“For so long.”

“Seven!”

“About what?” You asked. You knew, you think. You always knew, but you just- you just need to hear it. 

“Six!”

His thumb traced your bottom lip, eyes shamelessly glued to your mouth. 

“Five!”

“This.” He said. And brought his nose to yours, pressing them together. 

“Four!” 

His breath was cold as he breathed into your mouth, the air sticking to your tongue. 

“Three!”

“Can I,” Shouto’s top lip brushed yours as he asked, “kiss you?”

“Two!”

You nodded against his cheek, your hand against the buttons of his shirt, “Yes.”

“One!”

“Please.”

“Happy New Year!”

His mouth melded against yours like that was where he was supposed to be his whole life, so, so softly. Your eyes fluttered close as fireworks littered the sky, the loud popping nowhere to be in your mind. 

Shouto tasted like the strawberry soju you keep in a high cabinet as his tongue ran over yours, one of his hands gripping your waist for life. You met each other at every breath, slow and heated movement. Not wanting to be apart longer than necessary. 

His chest pressed against yours as he walked you back towards the balcony railing, your back pressed against the cold stone. It didn’t matter as Shouto ran a hot hand over your collarbone, a warm feeling sizzling in your gut. 

The sound of glass breaking woke you though. An ice bath for your warm gooey mind. 

You pushed him back suddenly, eyes wild and looking everywhere but him. What were you thinking? He’s drunk. He probably doesn’t know what he’s doing. 

You were drunk too, but why would you think about yourself?

You don’t know what face he was making. You don’t want to know what face Shouto was making. 

“Sorry.” You turned to help your friend with the champagne glass she dropped. 

//cut//

(When you woke up, it was with another brutal headache. Shouto brought you a hot drink in bed and asked if you remembered last night. You said yes. 

For a moment he looked mortified. 

You were embarrassed. 

You told him you remembered that he came back, but not much after that. You’re not sure if he could tell if you were lying. You’re not sure if it matters.)

You glance at your phone for any new messages. 

Just a text from your boss about a deadline on friday. 

“I just can’t believe it.”

“Hmm?” You look up at Ayame sitting across from you. Your friend wanted a recovery brunch from the drinking this weekend. 

“I mean you live with him, you’re telling me you didn’t know?”

You shrug, glancing at the gossip paper sitting on the table next to yours. “I try not to pry.”

“You never saw her come over?”

Reading over the headline, you feel tears building at the back of your eyes but you hold your breath. “I don’t know. Maybe just, like-”

10 January 20XX

       New Beau for Top 30 under 30 Pro-Hero Shouto?

“I don’t know.”

A cover photo of Shouto leaving a restaurant with a woman, smiling down at her; the ink buries itself into your mind. 

Ayame sighs, “Damn, I could’ve sworn I saw something between you at the party. You sure nothing happened?”

You rub your eye and stare at the bubbles fizzing up in your drink, “No. Nothing happened.”