#like touya would give you anything

[maryaandmorevna]

What do you think Dabi’s #1 love language is? What about Aemond’s?

This is just my opinion so...😅

Dabi's giving is giving gifts/things.

Him receiving love is words of affirmation.

Aemond's giving is spending quality time together.

Him receiving is physical touch and listening to him.

[willowser]

you know, the thing that i think is so endearing and also heartbreaking about prince touya is that he tries so hard to be the crown prince his father wants him to be and feels the full weight of his future on his shoulders while also still managing to lose out to shouto, somehow, and when his marriage has been arranged and he's sacrificed another sliver of his life for the sake of the todoroki rule—he's just not expecting you to really care about him at all. and when you do, it is just so disarming for him.

[kelin-is-writing]

alright personality aside - boobs, ass or thighs - what would dabi pick in your opinion? 👀

- 🥛

to probably EVERYONE’S surprise, i thinks dabi would pick ot3 of them because he would be like: “why choose one– when i can have all three?”

NO BECAUSE HEAR ME OUT—

1. boobs:

when he sits with you between his legs, chin resting on your shoulder and bored eyes glancing at the tv, dabi would just out of nowhere start fondling your boobs while starting to rant about whatever you two are watching and he doesn’t do that only when you’re watching tv. dabi starts randomly fondling your breasts when you’re cooking, reading, studying/working, doing the laundry, getting dressed and putting on make-up. every moment for him is a good moment to fondle, grope and squeeze your tits. it’s just something that relax him a lot.

2. ass:

god— this started one day purely as a joke really; when coming back to your apartment after whatever he does for the league, dabi hugs you whining about how beat he is from today and at some point the villain’s hands reach your lower back, it’s then that a sudden urge comes to him, the second later his hands are palming your ass making you let out a surprised shriek. he chuckles before giving your butt cheeks few firm squeezes while kissing your neck and murmuring about how much he has missed you. now everytime dabi hugs you it ends with him squeezing your ass while commenting or ranting about just anything. he also gives you random spanks whenever he walks past you, because this little shit enjoys to see how you jump and blush when he does that, it makes him giggle all giddy.

3. thighs:

damn... when dabi sees your thighs his mind empties for a few seconds, then it’s full of thoughts about how he can’t wait to caress your soft skin, kiss it, bite it, suck on it, have them toned thighs trap his head when he eats you out, hell– dabi sometimes even thinks that being strangled by them wouldn’t be so bad. especially when you wear thigh high socks or garterbelts, the arsonist genuinely thinks he’s gonna lose his fucking mind unless you don’t let him do you in those white thigh high socks. or when you let him rub his dick against your pussy? your warm inner thighs pressing around his shaft?! he’s gone.

have i already mentioned that he’s down horrendously for you? because he is down horrendously for you.

[dollbrbie]

as his bratz doll girlfriend ♡

you’re the definition of a bratz doll, and your boyfriend loves it.

your hair and makeup is always done to perfection, your nails typically extra long with pretty designs - that your boyfriend is always paying for, of course. and, your fashion sense is to die for, the epitome of a trend setter. you’re known as that girl.

so, your boyfriend can’t help but be a little smug when it comes to you, knowing he’s dating the baddest bitch around. it’s sorta like an ego boost whenever he has your arm wrapped around his, walking as you talk his ear off about your day and only he notices the gawking stares you get, smiling to himself knowing you’re his and only his.

he just loves the jealous stares he gets when he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in closer to him, a subtle gesture to let people know who you belong to.

“baby, are you even listening?”, you’ll ask with a huff coming from your glossy lips.

“yeah, m’listening, pretty.”

and he loves spoiling you, buying your clothes, your makeup and anything else your heart desires. sometimes, he’ll even give his input when it comes to fashion until you’re giving him a side eye when he mentions a fashion don’t. oh well, he’s still learning! he kinda likes that though, the fact you speak your mind, unafraid to prove him wrong and put him in his place.

you do sometimes have an attitude, as your nickname suggests, which can drive your boyfriend crazy - but in a good way! he weirdly finds it hot when he sees your pretty eyes roll at him, or when your plump lips leave trails of bitchy huffs and pouts. he usually can fix this with some attention, some food or a shopping trip! but when that fails, he resorts to plan b.

this is where you’ll find yourself beneath your boyfriend, your attitude now replaced with your pretty moans as he fucks you dumb, whispering sweet praises and mocking comments in your ear as he watches the way you mewl.

and fortunately, he’s never cruel enough to fuck you without giving you an orgasm - what kind of man would he be if he didn’t make his girlfriend cum?

however, he’ll definitely make you beg and beg until he’s satisfied as punishment for your bratty behaviour that day.

yoichi isagi , meguru bachira , seishiro nagi , sae itoshi , oliver aiku , satoru gojo , toji fushiguro , ryomen sukuna , choso kamo , katsuki bakugo , eijiro kirishima , denki kaminari , hawks / keigo takami , dabi / touya todoroki , giyuu tomioka , sanemi shinazugawa , tengen uzui , levi ackerman , eren yeager , connie springer , jean kirstein + your faves!

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[rueclfer]

piercer boyfriend touya who insists that he'll stay home while you go out with your friends and will stay up (despite your protests) for you to come home and help you get ready for bed.

he's expecting you to get home drunk. messy drunk. he's known you long enough to know that "just two drinks," is never. just. two. drinks.

he couldn't give less of a fuck about you sleeping in your makeup or wearing your outside clothes in bed, but trust that he will be cleaning those semi-healed piercings that he had done for you when you first started seeing each other.

tonight he's having trouble keeping you still.

"i wanna go to bed," you drunkenly mumble, squirming on the seat of the toilet and pulling away from his touch.

"not yet." touya responds, keeping your head steady with a gentle grip on your jaw, and with his other hand, dabbing a wound wash solution soaked q-tip across the shell of your ear.

your eyes trail down to where his hand makes contact with your face. you were an inch away from being able to bite down on the skin between his thumb and index finger and you knew it wouldn't be a proper night out if you didn't mildly annoy touya at least once.

"don't think about being a little shit right now," he breaks the silence.

you groan, "i still have to take off my makeup. just leave it, i'll clean them in the morning."

"who told you to get 3 piercings within a week?"

"stop it." you pout. "that was when i was blinded by love, i couldn't help it."

touya's focus turns to you, slightly tilting your head up to face him where you see a smirk grow on his lips.

"so it was love at first sight, huh?" he inches closer to you, almost grazing his lips against yours.

"or maybe it was the free piercings?"

a flash of annoyance crosses his face as he rolls his eyes, but the smirk doesn't leave. he closes the gap between you and firmly press his lips against yours. his hand slides down to the column of your neck. it pushes you back against the tank of the toilet, it takes the air out of you, and it leaves you feeling dizzy.

he pulls away and you're breathless for a moment as he presses a quicker and gentler kiss to your forehead and tilt your head to the side, finishing up with your right ear.

"can you help me take off my makeup too? and help me change into jammies?" you quietly murmur as the tip of your ears grow red.

"uh huh. anything else?" he breathes out a chuckle.

"never leave me and love me forever?"

touya would never admit it, but he loves it when you get like this after a few drinks. you're syrupy sweet, clingy, and knows exactly what you want. he can't help but feel a bit weak.

"done and done."

[yowumi]

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)

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

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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.

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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.

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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”

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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!”

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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”

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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.

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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.

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[with-my-calamitous-love]

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.

[seumyo]

DABI | TODOROKI TOUYA ✰ RESONANCE

SYNOPSIS. Todoroki Touya abandoned the bass years ago, unwilling to chase a passion that had only ever led to disappointment. Now a distant but undeniably skilled third-year, he’s pulled back into music when a persistent second-year recruits him for her struggling band. He tells himself it doesn’t matter—but the stage has a way of unraveling the lies he’s built around himself.

PAIRING. [Third Year] Todoroki Touya and [Second Year] Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT. 13k+

CONTENT. Slowburn, Strangers to Acquaintances to Friends to Lovers, College AU, No Quirk!AU, Unhealthy Family (because Ende*vor), Angst with Happy Ending, Music as a Metaphor for Feelings, and so on.

AUTHOR’S NOTE. Haha (hides). This took SEVEN MONTHS, oh em gee. I’m never attempting to write long fics ever again (this was so fun). For my dearest, @seneon. Your long-overdue Bassist!Touya fic is finally here. And also @suksatoru, an absolute icon with who inspired me to write for Touya this way from her Carnations series <33 Special thank you to all my beta readers: Ali, Fio, Rinne, my brother—because without you guys, I would’ve just scrapped this whole idea and never let it see the light. I hope all Touya fans are fed with this !!

“Mr. Todoroki,” the professor began, leaning against his desk with arms crossed. “You’re intelligent. That much is clear from your written work. But intelligence without effort will only get you so far.”

Touya leaned against his chair, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket. “Didn’t realize effort was part of the grading system.”

“It is,” the professor replied. “That, and participation—which you’re both lacking. I suggest joining an organization—something to engage you beyond sitting in the back of a classroom and coasting through your courses.”

Touya let out a humorless laugh as if he just heard the funniest joke of his life, shaking his head.

“I’ll pass.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s just… not my thing, sir,” he muttered finally, his tone clipped. He didn’t need to say anything else to him.

The professor studied him for a moment, then sighed. “You’re only wasting your own potential, Mr. Todoroki. Though I do understand that you’re still adjusting from just having transferred two months ago. One day, you’ll realize that life isn’t going to wait for you to catch up.”

Touya didn’t respond. He just left the room once he was free to do so and didn’t bother letting his professor’s words linger too long with him.

Potential? What would his professor know about his own potential? As if the word hasn’t already been engraved in his mind from the moment he turned six, haunting him like a ghost out for revenge.

“Stupid professor,” he muttered under his breath. But even as he said it, he knew the real frustration wasn’t with the professor—or the thing that’s been holding him back, or anyone else. 

It was with him.

-

Lunchtime was always so chaotic in this university. Touya didn’t understand what the fuss was all about. But the food was good, surprisingly; he’ll give them that.

He settled into a routine. Sit on the farthest free table and have his earphones in, not because he was listening to anything, but because they were a convenient excuse to ignore anyone who tried to talk to him. He liked the solitude and how students here respected each other’s personal space.

So when a shadow fell over his table, he barely glanced up, assuming it was someone asking to join him at the table or grab the extra chair. You know, the usual stuff that happens in college—where everyone’s apparently too busy with their lives to meddle with others.

“Hey. You’re Todoroki, right?”

The voice wasn’t familiar. It was clear, a little raspy, and full of smugness that just screamed that this someone found the person they were looking for. Reluctantly, Touya looked up, locking eyes with the girl standing in front of him.

You weren’t anyone he recognized—definitely not from any of his classes. Your hands were behind your back, your posture casual yet still somewhat polite.

“And if I am?” he replied, his voice as flat and uninviting as he could manage.

You tilted your head slightly, offering him a smile. “Good. Saves me the trouble of asking around.” You bowed slightly in greeting, introducing your name and the department program you’re in. “Second year, I run the school band.”

He didn’t return the gesture, though he did raise an unimpressed eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Congrats? Do you want a medal or something?”

“I heard you’re good at playing bass.”

The words caught him off guard. Touya’s nonchalant expression is replaced by a flicker of something sharper, something guarded. “Who told you that?”

You shrugged, the motion deliberately casual. “Word gets around. Especially when someone is as good as you supposedly are.”

“Well, whoever said that was wrong. I don’t play anymore.”

Touya clenched his jaw, looking past you toward the window. The question scraped against old wounds he thought he’d buried—memories of playing in his room, of pouring everything into the bass that he’s only ever known.

“It’s not my thing anymore,” he muttered, barely loud enough to hear. “Sorry, kid. You’re years too late to have met me in my prime.”

“Not a kid—we’re probably around the same age,” you quipped. “And I don’t buy that.”

Your bluntness made him pause. He blinked, his head snapping back toward you. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t quit something like that unless there’s a reason,” you answered simply, your tone light but unrelenting. “And honestly? Professor Hamasaki actually forwarded his concern to me, so I think you really need it.”

Of course his professor had to have come up with an intervention for him. He spoke too soon about this new university letting him mind his own business.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means,” you said, crossing your arms and straightening up, “you look like someone who’s got way too much going on up here”—you tapped your temple—“and has no idea where to put it. Trust me, I’ve seen it before.”

Your words hit closer than he wanted to admit, and the smug look on your face didn’t help. He shook his head. 

“You’re annoying—putting your nose in other people’s lives.”

“I—”

He scoffed, raising a hand as if to stop you. “I told you, I don’t play anymore. Find someone else.”

“Can’t.”

“You’re the only bassist worth tracking down. And I’m not just looking for anyone—I’m looking for you. You ever heard of this university’s motto?”

“No, and I don’t care. Leave.” His voice was curt, unwelcoming now.

“Ut Optimi Simus.” That we may be the best.

Touya stared at you, his expression unreadable. You just couldn’t take the hint, could you? That much was clear on his end.

And to drop the school motto? What is he getting himself into? 

What kind of self-obsessed students did this university have?

“Look,” you continued, “we’ve got a spot open in the band, and I think you’d kill it. Just come to one practice. One. If it sucks, you can walk out, and I’ll never bother you again. Deal?”

There was a challenge in your tone, one that sparked something dormant in him. He could have shut you down again, could have sent you packing with another snarky comment. But for some reason—maybe it was the way you spoke or the strange mix of stubbornness and sincerity in your expression—he hesitated.

Maybe you would just bother him again if he refused; who knows?

But Todoroki Touya was screwed before he realized it.

“One practice,” he muttered finally.

“Yes!” you cheered, a bit too loud, which had the other students’ heads turning toward your direction. Touya had to rub a hand over his face. Great. More unwanted attention.

“Whoops—but that’s all I need. Music room, next week, after your class. Building GENM. Don’t be late, Todoroki.”

He stared at the empty space where you’d been standing, then at the table in front of him, where his phone lay forgotten.

“What the hell did I just agree to?” he muttered under his breath, but he couldn’t shake the strange feeling that, for the first time in a long while, he might be walking into something worth his time.

Then again, it might be.

-

The week had passed in a blur for Touya. He hadn’t thought about the band—or you—much since your brief, honestly impulsive encounter. He convinced himself it was just another passing distraction, something to shrug off and forget about, like he usually did with things that demanded more of him than he wanted to give.

And yet, there he was, standing in the dimly lit hallway outside the music room, staring at the door like it might open on its own and save him the trouble of deciding whether to walk in.

It wasn’t like he owed you anything. He’d said he’d come to one practice—only one—and even then, he hadn’t really promised he’d participate. If you had any sense, you’d take the hint that he wouldn’t touch the bass.

Still, something made him turn the doorknob and step inside.

The room smelled faintly of old wood and metal, a mix of familiarity and nostalgia that hit him square in the chest. His gaze flicked around, taking in the scattered instruments, the amplifiers, and the slightly worn drum set shoved into a corner.

At the center of it all was you.

You were perched on a stool, your hoodie hanging loose off one shoulder as you leaned forward over a notebook in your lap. Your hand moved in quick, messy strokes as you scribbled notes, humming softly to yourself. A keyboard sat in front of you, the occasional sound of a chord filling the space as you tinkered with the rhymes and chords.

Your voice was soft, pleasing to hear, the kind of voice that could wrap around someone and pull them in without asking. Sort of like a siren, enchanting—bewitching.

“Damn, still doesn’t feel right,” you muttered to yourself, tapping the pen against your lips before crossing out a line. 

Touya stood there for a moment, unnoticed, just… watching. There was an ease to the way you worked. Quiet and focused. He didn’t know if it was weird to just stand there and watch, but it took him a minute to compose himself.

Finally, he cleared his throat.

You jolted, nearly dropping your notebook. You glance around to face him, your eyes meeting him before recognition softens your expression into a joyful one.

“Would it kill you to knock? We should’ve really put a sign to knock first before entering around here,” you joked, closing the notebook and setting it aside. “Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

Touya shrugged, slipping his hands into his jacket’s pockets. “Guess I had nothing better to do.”

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.”

Your teasing tone was annoying, but it wasn’t enough to make him leave. Instead, he let his gaze wander to the instruments again.

“Is that for me?” he asked, nodding toward the bass leaning against the wall.

“Yup. Freshly tuned and everything. Had to get new strings because the last idiot who used it was just awful.” You stepped aside, gesturing toward it. “Figured you’d want something decent to work with.”

It had been a long time since he’d touched a bass. Too long. But he forced himself to walk over, crouching down to inspect it. His fingers brushed the strings lightly; it felt like meeting something familiar again.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

But before he could even pick up the bass, the door burst open with a loud thud.

“[Name]!”

The shout startled you both, and Touya turned to see a tall guy—not as tall as he is, probably—standing in the doorway, a guitar case slung over one shoulder as he tried to catch his breath. His face was flushed, and he looked like he’d sprinted all the way there.

“Kaito?” you said, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

This guy, Kaito, ignored your question, his gaze landing on Touya briefly before shifting back to you. “We’ve got a problem.”

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “Of course we do. When have we never? What now?”

“One of the judges for the festival just backed out,” Kaito explained, stepping fully into the room. “And the committee’s freaking out. They want all bands to perform a teaser set tomorrow to convince the others to stay on board.”

You blinked. “You’re joking.”

He shook his head, the guitar case slipping slightly on his shoulder. “I wish I was. They’re saying it’s our only shot at keeping everything on track. Rikiyama said so herself.”

Touya raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you. 

“Festival?” he asked, his tone flat.

You let out a long sigh, finally turning back to him. “School music festival. Big deal, lots of bands competing for sponsorships and a chance to compete nationally. We’re signed up, obviously, but now they want us to play tomorrow. Which is insane, by the way.”

Kaito finally seemed to register Touya’s presence, his head tilting to the side. “Is this the Todoroki you were talking about, [Name]?”

“Our new bassist,” you answered breezily, grinning as if the words were the most natural thing in the world.

Touya shot you a glare, his posture stiff. “Not yet. I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“Well,” you said, clapping your hands together, “looks like you’re about to. Lucky for us, huh?”

“Hold up,” Kaito said, stepping closer. “This guy’s the bassist? You’re bringing in someone new now? Do the others know?”

“Relax, they know,” you replied, waving him off. “Oh, and he’s good. Better than good.”

Kaito didn’t look convinced, but before he could argue, you turned back to Touya.

“Guess you’re jumping in sooner than expected.” Your statement was something that can’t be denied; even Kaito caught onto it.

Touya stared at you. He could feel the weight of the bass guitar in his hand, the pressure of the situation finally making itself known to him.

And yet, for some reason, he didn’t leave.

-

The day of the teaser set was supposed to be the day you reclaimed your band’s undefeated title. 

The kind of event that set the tone for the upcoming music festival. To keep spectators and sponsors engaged. Not… whatever was happening backstage.

Backstage was tense. You stood near the edge of the curtain, peeking out at the crowd as they settled into their seats. The band was set to go on in less than ten minutes, but your focus wasn’t on the audience—it was on the absence of one particular bass player.

“He’s not coming,” Kaito said from behind you, his voice flat. He leaned against a stack of amplifier cases, arms crossed, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with thinly veiled irritation. “I called it the second he said he hasn’t agreed to anything yet.”

You didn’t answer immediately. You let the curtain fall back into place, turning to face the rest of the team. “We don’t know that yet. He might just be late.”

“True,” Haru sighed dejectedly. He’s the one who handles the keyboard and prefers to keep his opinion to himself most of the time rather than voicing it out loud—a second-year in your class.

Kaito scoffed. “Late is still bad. This isn’t some casual jam session, [Name]. This is our shot at keeping the sponsors happy. If they pull out, it’s over.”

One of the other band members, the usually energetic drummer named Yuuma, chimed in. “Kaito’s got a point. If he hasn’t shown up by now, he’s probably not coming.”

You exhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. “Then we’ll do it without him,” you decided, trying to mask the knot of disappointment tightening in your chest.

Kaito shook his head, clearly exasperated. “This is why I said you shouldn’t go scouting random people at the last minute. You can’t trust someone who’s barely committed. Plus, we could’ve offered the slot to someone else.”

“Kaito,” you frowned, your tone sharper than usual. The entire band looked at you in surprise, and you softened slightly, your shoulders relaxing. “Look, I get it, okay? But we don’t have time for this. We’ve played without a bassist before, and we can do it again.”

He muttered something under his breath but didn’t push further.

The stage manager appeared a moment later, signaling that it was time for your set. You took a deep breath, adjusting the strap of your guitar as the band moved into position.

As you stepped onto the stage, the audience greeted you with polite applause, and the blinding stage lights made it impossible to see the faces in the crowd clearly. You swore someone from the technical team really wanted to blind you and your team one of these days.

You approached the microphone, your voice steady as you introduced your band and the first song. “Thanks for being here, everyone! This is a little something we’ve been working on for a while now.”

Yuuma gave the count-off, and the music began.

The first song went smoothly. Kaito’s electric guitar filled in the gaps left by the missing bassline, and your vocals were working overtime to keep the audience engaged. The crowd seemed to enjoy it, clapping along during the choruses and cheering loudly by the end.

But something felt off.

The music was fine, technically speaking. You hit all the right notes and kept the rhythm tight, but it lacked the depth that a good bassline could bring. It was like there was a hollow space in the sound, a space that Touya’s presence could’ve filled.

It should’ve felt like a victory. To be able to perform without a bassist.

You also noticed the way the judges whispered among themselves, one even talking to the university’s president.

“Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster,” Kaito murmured, though his tone was less than enthusiastic as you all returned back to your practice room.

“Could’ve been better,” Yuuma muttered, packing up his drumsticks.

“I guess,” Haru pouted, flicking his wrist back and forth.

You didn’t say anything. You set your guitar down carefully, your movements slow and deliberate, as if everything wasn’t real just yet.

Kaito noticed your silence, obviously, and leaned back in his chair. “You’re not seriously still thinking about him, are you?”

“I’m not thinking about him,” you replied quickly.

He hummed faintly, clearly unconvinced, but he let it drop.

As the rest of the band packed up their gear and got out of the room, you stayed for a minute. You found yourself staring at the bass leaning against the wall, untouched and waiting. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine what it would’ve sounded like if Touya had been there, if his bassline had woven seamlessly into your music and added the missing piece to tie the whole performance together.

But then you shook your head, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Doesn’t matter,” you muttered under your breath, the words more for yourself than anyone else.

“He already made his choice.” You did sound a little bummed out about it, though.

With one last glance at the bass, you left the room, making sure to lock it on your way out, determined to push Todoroki Touya out of your mind. This would be the last time you’ll ever think of him.

Or so you told yourself.

-

The aftermath was everything but light. It was merciless.

The following week wasn’t as pleasant as you thought it’d be; you couldn’t walk two steps without hearing the agitating murmurs.

“I thought she said they had a bassist?”

“What happened? Did the guy just dip?”

“Damn, imagine embarrassing yourself in front of the whole school like that.”

You clenched your jaw and kept walking, ignoring the sting that settled deep in your gut. You had been prepared for some backlash, sure, but you hadn’t expected the weight of it—the way the entire school seemed to know, the way the student council president looked at you with thinly veiled disappointment when the secretary and treasurer greeted you down the hall.

You had been so sure. You had told them, had promised them that you finally had a full band, that you were ready to compete. Just like once upon a time. And now, you had nothing to show for it.

Now you seem like a liar.

And Touya just… disappeared completely from your radar.

It was your fault; you knew that now. The man hasn’t even known you for longer than two weeks, and you expect him to do something as big as perform for a teaser set? You must have been so entitled to have thought of that.

So selfish to have only thought about what you want and never thought about what he wanted.

The meeting with the president later that afternoon only made it worse.

You sat stiffly in the office, your hands clenched into fists in your lap. Across from you, the president and a few teachers sat with unreadable expressions, while the event’s organizers and two members of the student council looked far less amused. Haru and Kaito flanked your sides—Yuuma called in sick on the second day of the week.

The president sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Ms. [Last Name], I’ll be honest with you. This situation has put us in a difficult position.”

You forced yourself to stay calm. 

“We do have a band,” you said evenly. “We just had an issue with our bassist showing up. But it’s temporary. We’ll fix it.”

One of the organizers, a woman in a navy blazer, exchanged a look with the student council members. “That may be, but you don’t have a bassist right now,” she pointed out. “And without one, your band does not meet the minimum requirements to represent our school in competition. The sponsors and judges of high authority weren’t too thrilled with your performance last week as well. We had to compromise some of them to stay for the music festival.”

Haru sighed softly. “Then what will happen to us?”

The president hesitated, as if reluctant to say it out loud. “We’re giving you until the end of the month,” he said finally. “If you can’t secure a bassist by then… I’m afraid we’ll have to dissolve your band.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Disband? Just like that?

Kaito shot up from his seat, palms flat on the table. “You can’t be serious. We’ve been working our as— very hard on this since last year, please.”

“We are very serious, Mr. Watanabe.” The president's voice was firm but not unkind. “The school’s music program is already under pressure for funding. With many bands making themselves known each year. If we can’t prove that your band is viable for competition, we can’t continue allocating resources to you.”

Haru exhaled sharply beside you, shifting in his seat.

You could feel the walls closing in, the weight of their situation pressing on your shoulders.

One month. That was all you had.

Your mind raced, going over every possible option, every potential bassist you could reach out to. But the truth was, other bands had already scouted most of the available musicians at school. If there were any other bassists capable of keeping up with you, you would have known.

And the worst part? The absolute worst part?

You already had the right person for the job.

You had found someone who could play at the level you needed—someone so good that even Kaito, with all his attitude, had begrudgingly acknowledged his skill.

But he was also the same person who didn’t want to play anymore. And you can’t force someone to do the things that make them unhappy.

You sucked in a deep breath, steadying yourself.

“We understand,” you said finally, forcing your voice to stay calm. “We’ll find someone. Thank you for your kindness.”

The meeting wrapped up shortly after, but the weight of it didn’t leave you, even as you stepped out into the hallway. It felt like your heart was lodged in your throat, rendering you silent.

The moment the office door clicked shut, Kaito exploded.

“This is bullshit,” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “All because some spoiled rich kid couldn’t be bothered to show up just for one gig?” He let out a bitter laugh. “Unbelievable.”

You didn’t say anything.

Kaito turned to you, eyes sharp. “Tell me you’re not still thinking about him.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m thinking about where we’ll find a good bassist. That’s all.”

Kaito scoffed. “Right. And who exactly do you think is good enough to replace him on such short notice? The others combed through almost all musicians in school.”

“Easy, Kai,” Haru told his friend.

You had no answer.

Because no matter how much you hated to admit it, there wasn’t anyone else.

Kaito must have caught the hesitation in your silence because his expression finally relented. “No. Let’s not think about it anymore.”

You adjusted the strap of your bag. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you said, sidestepping the subject entirely.

Kaito sighed.

“She’s right,” Haru said. “We don’t have a choice.”

You nodded once, more to yourself than anyone else.

One month.

One month to fix this.

One month to… figure things out for better or worse.

And unfortunately, there was only one person who could.

And you were sure that he no longer wanted to see you.

But you had to talk to him one last time. For closure.

-

It was late. Touya’s classes usually stretched to 7 in the evening on Thursdays.

Touya was halfway down the stairs of the main building, hands shoved in his pockets, his steps unhurried. The night air was crisp, but he barely felt it. He had done what he always did—attended just enough classes to stay off his professors’ radar, killed time, and now, finally, he was going home.

But then he saw you.

You stood near the entrance, arms crossed, your bag slung over one shoulder. You weren’t blocking his way, but you didn’t move when he approached, your stance solid like you had been waiting for him.

He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know you were the waiting type.”

You didn’t react to the teasing. Not even a glare.

“I get it,” you said instead, your voice unnervingly steady. “You don’t want to play.”

Touya slowed to a stop, tilting his head.

Something about the way you said it made his neutral expression turn to a simple frown—because there was no anger, no frustration, no accusations. Just a simple statement, like you had already accepted it.

Took her long enough.

He shrugged. “Took you long enough to figure that out.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head, and for the first time, he noticed how exhausted you looked. Not physically—no, you were still standing tall, still looking him in the eye—but there was something in your expression, something worn down at the edges.

“I know.”

Your hands are clenched at your sides, knuckles tight.

“You could’ve just said no. You could’ve told me in the practice room that you weren’t going to do it. That you actually didn’t care. That you were going to let me stand up there and make a fool of myself in front of the entire school—because at least I would’ve been prepared.”

Touya’s smirk twitched but didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I never promised you anything.”

Your shoulders stiffened.

“Because you didn’t refuse that day, when Kaito asked who you were. You picked up the bass, played a few chords, and stayed an hour or less than you intended to. You let me hope. And maybe that was entirely my fault.”

Touya didn’t respond.

Didn’t shift, didn’t look away, but something in his posture went unnervingly still.

You let out a breath, closing your eyes for half a second before opening them again. “Do you have any idea what it was like?” you asked. “Standing up there, knowing everyone was laughing at us? Knowing the only reason we even got to play was because the judges were being polite?”

He had heard.

He hadn’t gone to the teaser set, but the rumors had found him anyway. Your band had been the first to perform to keep the judges on board—only to be the one band without a bassist.

A missing piece in an otherwise well-practiced performance.

A joke.

The sponsors and judges weren’t happy at all.

Your laugh was quiet, bitter. “We were supposed to set the standard, Todoroki. We were supposed to show them why the school backs us—that’s why we were the first to perform. And instead, we just… gave them every reason to doubt us.”

Touya’s jaw tightened just slightly, but his expression remained neutral. “That’s not my problem.”

“Yeah. I figured.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sounds of the city beyond the school gates filled the silence—the distant rumble of a passing car, the buzz of a streetlamp overhead.

Then, finally, you straightened.

“But I was happy,” you admitted. “To have seen you play in person. To have known that I was one of the first to approach you for your talent before anyone could even connect the dots with your name.”

Touya was quiet as you spoke, allowing you to tell him how you truly felt about the situation.

“Thank you for taking your time to visit our music room. And… I’m sorry, really sorry if you felt pressured to play because of my persistence. I know that now.”

Well, that took a turn, Touya thought to himself.

“I’m not going to bother you anymore,” you continued. “But I do really—genuinely appreciate you giving us your time.”

Touya felt something in his chest shift, but he ignored it.

You bowed for one last time and turned on your heel without another word.

He didn’t stop you.

Didn’t say anything as you walked away, disappearing into the dimly lit street.

Didn’t watch as you left him alone with the cold and the distant echoes of everything you had just said.

-

The house was silent when he got home.

It always was.

Touya kicked off his shoes in the entryway, not bothering to turn on the lights. Everything was still—too still.

His siblings wouldn’t be home for another hour.

The scent of old wood and polish lingered in the air, clean and sterile. The housekeeper must have been here earlier, tidying up everything that didn’t need tidying. It felt suffocating, the way nothing ever changed here.

His steps were slow as he made his way up the stairs, fingers dragging along the smooth railing. The portraits lining the walls were familiar, but he didn’t spare them a glance. Family pictures. Moments frozen in time. He knew what they looked like without having to see them—his siblings, perfect and poised; his mother, distant yet present; and his father, always standing in the center like an immovable force.

Touya wasn’t in most of them. 

Who knows what he must’ve been doing—or what he’s done for him to not be included?

His fingers curled against the wood before he withdrew his hand.

At the end of the hall, his bedroom door stood half-open, just as he had left it that morning. He pushed it open fully, stepping inside.

The room was clean, untouched, just like the rest of the house seemed to be every time he came back. Sometimes he questions if a family truly lives in this house. A house, because it never felt like home.

His gaze flickered across the shelves first. Medals hung from carefully arranged hooks, ribbons still tied neatly around them. Gold, silver, bronze—some gleaming, some dulled with time. A display case lined with trophies sat against the wall, their engraved plates catching the little light from his window.

They were proof of what he had once been.

A prodigy. A name whispered among teachers and musicians alike.

Someone who had been going somewhere.

But none of it had mattered.

His eyes landed on the bass guitar in the corner.

It rested against the wall, still in its worn case, the handle covered in faint scratches from when he used to carry it everywhere. He could almost feel the weight of it in his hands again, the familiar press of strings against his fingertips.

But it had been years since he actually played.

Years since he had felt anything when he looked at it.

Touya’s throat felt tight as he stepped further into the room.

At first, he had tried so hard. He had thrown himself into music with everything he had, drowning in it, desperate to carve out a space for himself in a family that never had room for him.

And for a while—just a little while—he had been good enough.

His teachers had praised him. His instructors had fought over who got to mentor him. People had noticed him.

But then his younger siblings had grown up.

And suddenly, his achievements weren’t enough anymore.

His father had never said it outright, but Touya had known. He had felt it in the way the encouragement faded, in the way the compliments grew fewer, in the way Enji barely looked at his trophies anymore.

You should focus on something more practical, his father had said once, as if music had been nothing more than a hobby. As if Touya had wasted all those years for nothing.

So he had stopped playing.

What was the point? What was the point of pouring himself into something that didn’t matter? What was the point of trying when no matter how good he got, it would never be enough?

Touya exhaled slowly, his gaze dragging back to his bass.

Even now, even after years of refusing to touch it, something in his chest twisted at the sight of it.

He told himself he didn’t care anymore. That it didn’t bother him.

But then your words came back to him, quiet but sharp.

You let me hope. And maybe that was entirely my fault.

His jaw clenched.

You looked so—tired. Not just angry, not just frustrated, but done. Like you had spent everything you had trying to reach him. 

To reach something that could never be reached.

And for what?

Because he couldn’t face his own ghosts?

Touya let out a quiet scoff, running a hand down his face.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He turned away from the bass, shoving his hands in his pockets.

You weren’t entitled to his skills.

It didn’t matter.

It didn’t matter that it used to mean everything to him. It didn’t matter that he used to love it. It didn’t matter that for a few years, music had been the only thing keeping him from losing himself completely.

None of it mattered.

Not anymore.

And yet—

Touya lingered in the doorway, staring at the bass for one second too long before finally walking away.

-

Dinner was quiet that night. 

Touya sat at the far end of the long table, arms crossed, eyes heavy-lidded with the kind of exhaustion that never seemed to leave him these days. The air in the house was the same as always—too clean, too cold, too silent. 

He propped his elbow against the table and rested his chin on his knuckles, watching his father from across the room. Enji Todoroki, a powerhouse of a businessman, always the center of everything, even here. He ate in silence, posture rigid, movements deliberate.

Touya barely touched his food.

Natsuo sat two seats away, quiet but visibly tense. Fuyumi kept sneaking glances at him, her fingers fidgeting against her utensils. Shouto sat at his usual place, unmoving, eating mechanically like he wasn’t aware of the thick tension hanging in the air.

Touya let his gaze drop to the table, to his own reflection faintly visible in the polished wood.

It was funny, in a twisted sort of way.

He used to sit here as a kid, hanging onto every word his father said, desperate for even the smallest ounce of approval. He used to listen to Enji talk about Shouto’s lessons, about the weight of responsibility, about greatness.

And for a while, he had been a part of that.

For a while, Touya had been someone his father actually looked at.

The kid who could play with instinct, who picked up the bass and made it sing like he had been born to do it.

And back then, Enji had actually acknowledged it.

Not praise, not exactly, but recognition. His father had seen the way Touya played, the way his sponsors praised his name, the way his name had spread through competitions like wildfire, and for a short while—Touya had mattered.

Until he didn’t.

Until his siblings started excelling at everything else. 

Natsuo was an academic. He soared through school with ease, outpacing everyone in his classes. His teachers raved about his intelligence, his potential.

Fuyumi was diligent and capable, always responsible, always steady, the one who excelled in sports. Swimming, volleyball, badminton—you name it, she could probably learn how to do it within two days maximum.

And Shouto—

Shouto was the golden child. The one their father had molded for years. The one meant for greatness, destined to surpass even Enji himself. He had a fragment of each of his siblings’ greatness.

And Touya?

Touya played music. And suddenly music wasn’t as great as academics, or sports, or arts.

One day, his father had simply stopped asking about his lessons. He had stopped attending his performances. Had stopped looking at the trophies he brought home, the medals he placed on his shelf.

And Touya knew then.

Knew that to Enji, he had already been left behind.

He swallowed down the bitterness clawing at his throat, his fingers curling against the table.

The silence in the room was unbearable.

So he broke it.

“You know,” Touya said suddenly, voice slow and deliberate, “I’ve been thinking.”

Enji didn’t look up. “About what?”

Touya tilted his head, watching him carefully. “About how pointless everything is.”

That got his father’s attention. Of course, it would. Enji finally met his gaze, brow furrowing slightly.

“Watch your tone,” he warned.

“Or what?” His voice was light, careless. “You gonna scold me? Ground me? Tell me that I’m throwing my life away in studying politics?”

Fuyumi’s lips parted slightly, like she wanted to interject. Natsuo tensed. Shouto kept eating, but Touya knew he was listening.

Enji exhaled slowly, setting his chopsticks down. “If you have something to say, say it.”

Touya dragged a hand through his hair, breathing in sharply. “Alright. Fine.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I spent years playing the bass. I was good at it. No—scratch that. I was the best at it. You know that. My teachers knew that. Everyone knew that.” His voice hardened. “And you let me. You let me believe that it mattered, that it was worth something. And then one day, just like that, you decided it wasn’t.”

Enji remained impassive. “I never told you to stop playing.”

“You didn’t have to.”

He could still remember it. The shift. The subtle, almost imperceptible way his father’s attention drifted. How the words of encouragement—rare as they were—had faded. How the pride that once flickered in his father’s expression whenever he won had dulled until it was nothing but disdain.

Because music wasn’t important. Because it wasn’t a legacy. Because Touya playing the bass isn’t important. Because music wouldn’t help him become a candidate to rise to the business world.

And that had killed something in him.

“Do you even get it?” Touya’s voice rose slightly, sharp and bitter. “Do you know what it feels like? To pour everything you have into something, to love something so much it becomes a part of you, only to have it tossed aside like it’s nothing?” His fingers clenched against the table. “What was the point? What was the point of me trying? What was the point of all the competitions, the trophies, the lessons? What was the point of any of it if you were just going to decide it wasn’t worth your time?”

Enji was silent.

Of course, he was.

Touya’s laugh was louder this time, almost incredulous. He shook his head, his grip tightening. “I should’ve known, huh?” His voice was quieter now, something bitter curling around the edges. “The moment my siblings started excelling, I should’ve known.”

Enji’s brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t refute it. Didn’t deny it.

Because it was true.

Because Touya had spent years waiting—waiting for something, anything, that told him he still was important. That he wasn’t just something his father had already discarded.

But Enji was as quiet as ever.

And that told him everything he needed to know.

His fists slowly unclenched. His expression smoothed over into something colder. He exhaled, pushing his chair back with a quiet scrape of wood against the tile.

“Forget it.”

He stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Fuyumi called out his name softly, but he ignored it. Natsuo watched him leave with something tight in his expression. Shouto didn’t move.

And Enji—

Enji didn’t stop him.

Touya didn’t look back.

Because what was the point in arguing with a wall?

But Touya knew the conversation was far from over.

-

“We need to talk.”

Touya let out a slow breath through his nose, already bracing himself. He didn’t stop to acknowledge him right away, just leaned down to untie his boots, drawing out the motion. He knew how this worked. Enji didn’t like raised voices, didn’t like drawn-out arguments, and didn’t like things disrupting his carefully maintained order. If Touya ignored him long enough, maybe he’d just drop it.

But, of course, Enji Todoroki never dropped anything. Especially not after the stunt he pulled earlier.

Touya sighed and finally straightened, rolling his shoulders as he turned. “Yeah?” He blinked lazily, voice laced with dry amusement. “What groundbreaking wisdom do you have for me this time?”

“You need to stop this,” Enji said, tone clipped.

“Stop what, exactly?” He tilted his head. “Speaking my mind?”

“Throwing a tantrum.”

“Ohhh. That’s what we’re calling it?” He let his voice drop into something almost conversational. “No, you see, I thought I was just telling the truth. You did say honesty is the best policy.”

Enji’s expression didn’t change. His silence pressed against Touya’s ribs like an iron weight.

Touya rolled his eyes. “Alright, fine. Lay it on me. What’s the lecture this time? That I’m being unreasonable?” He snorted. “That I should be grateful?”

Enji exhaled carefully. “I never told you to stop playing music.”

“Oh yeah? You sure about that?”

“I told you not to rely on it,” Enji clarified, tone flat.

Touya clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. Keep it as a hobby. Something to do on the side. Something that wouldn’t distract me.” His voice dipped into something laced with mockery. “Because that’s what you always do, huh?”

Enji narrowed his eyes slightly. “Touya—”

“No, seriously.” Touya let out a sharp, humorless chuckle, stepping closer. “First, you push me into it. You tell me I’ve got talent, that I should hone it, that I should train.” His voice dropped into something razor-sharp. “And I did.”

His gaze burned, unrelenting.

“I played,” he continued. “I trained. I performed. And I was good, wasn’t I?” His voice was laced with something bitter. “I was great.”

Enji didn’t deny it.

“But then one day, you just…” He snapped his fingers. “Checked out. Like it didn’t matter anymore.” His jaw tightened. “As if playing music was the most disappointing thing any of your children could’ve done. Or maybe that case only applied to me?”

Silence.

Touya inhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “But, hey, that wasn’t enough, was it?” His lips curled into something sharp, his voice laced with venom. “No, because after making it real clear that music wasn’t worth your time, you decided to shove me into something else instead.”

His eyes burned.

“Business administration.”

Enji’s face hardened.

“You actually thought I’d be like you.” Touya laughed. It was a clear joke to him. “Like I gave a single shit about your business.”

Enji exhaled slowly, shaking his head. “You’re intelligent, Touya. If you had stuck with it—”

“If I had stuck with it? Are you kidding me?” His voice rose, heated. “I never wanted that, old man! You wanted that!” He gestured wildly. “And you shoved me into it like you do with everything else because you thought it was better than me playing music!”

He took a slow, measured breath, voice lowering into something cold.

“And the worst part? I still tried.” His lips twisted. “I spent two years in that goddamn conservative, traditional university, forcing myself to study something I hated just because you thought it was acceptable.”

His fingers curled into fists. “And the second I transferred out, you had the audacity to act like it was my decision.”

He dropped his voice into a dead-on mimicry: “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? How could you waste two years?”

“Like you didn’t push me into it in the first place. You do that with everyone—Fuyumi would’ve still been competing today if you hadn’t discouraged her, Natsuo and Shouto as well.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.

Touya inhaled sharply through his nose. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, but no less bitter.

“I didn’t even want to just play music,” he muttered. “I had a plan. I was gonna study law. Be a lawyer.” He scoffed. “Did you even know that?”

Enji’s brows furrowed slightly, but he said nothing.

Touya scoffed. “Yeah, I didn't think so.” He shook his head. “I wanted to help. I wanted to be something. And I still wanted to play, still wanted to keep music as a part of my life—because it was with me for almost all of my life. But you made me feel like that was stupid. A childish dream that I was bound to let go of.”

His throat tightened.

“You made me feel like it wasn’t worth it.”

“Touya, you needed direction.”

“No,” Touya snapped. “I needed a choice. I needed support. But you never gave me one.”

Silence.

“You forced me into music. Then you forced me into business. And when I walked away from both, you just acted like none of it ever mattered. Like I had humiliated everything that you had built for this family.”

Enji’s expression didn’t change.

“No surprise, though, huh?” He tilted his head, voice dropping into something dangerously quiet. “Because Shouto could finally fill in my shoes.”

Enji’s jaw tightened, just slightly.

“Yeah, that’s what it is, isn’t it? Did I hit a nerve there, Dad?” His voice wavered, barely perceptible. “You didn’t need to focus on me anymore, so you didn’t.”

Touya’s fists clenched.

“I should’ve known better.”

Enji remained silent.

“Forget it,” he muttered, stepping out. “I’m going back to my dorm.”

And so, it did.

-

What used to be a room full of noise was now uncomfortably quiet.

You stood in the middle of it, arms crossed, gaze sweeping over the half-empty space that had once been yours. It didn’t feel real. The shelves where you used to stack your equipment were bare. The walls, once lined with posters and setlists, were empty now—just blank, peeling paint and old tape residue. The air smelled like dust and memories you weren’t ready to let go of.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat and forced yourself to keep moving.

Yuuma was coiling up the last of the cables, his usual easy grin nowhere to be seen. Kaito crouched near the amplifiers, wrapping them up carefully like they weren’t just equipment but something precious. Haru had already taken down the band’s old posters, stacking them in a neat pile like he couldn’t bring himself to crumple them up or throw them away.

It was too quiet.

The kind of quiet that came with the weight of finality, of something ending when you weren’t ready for it to.

You bent down and picked up a box of loose sheet music, flipping through old setlists and unfinished lyrics scrawled in fading ink. Some of these songs had never made it past rehearsals. Some of them had performed on your biggest nights, your loudest wins. And now?

Now they were just scraps of paper.

You exhaled softly and shoved them into the box.

A few feet away, Haru stacked another case onto the pile by the door and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “You think the next band’s gonna do anything with this place?”

You shrugged, not trusting yourself to answer.

Yuuma snorted softly. “They won’t be us.”

No one disagreed.

Because it was true.

You had been the best. The best. Your band was the one that had carried the university through every local competition, every festival for a year straight. You have been known for your energy, your chemistry, and your sound. You were the band that made people stay even after the headliners left. 

The absolute blueprint.

But now?

Now, you were just another band that fell apart because people moved on. Your former bassist chose to focus on his internship, which you respected. The others started quitting as well due to some other conflicts, and only Kaito, Yuuma, and Haru stayed. You were thankful for that.

Kaito let out a slow breath and leaned against the table. “We really thought we could hold out, huh?” He smiled, but he was tired, resigned. “Guess we were all kinda stupid.”

“Not stupid,” you corrected. “We just… we wanted it to last.”

And for a while, it had.

For a while, it had felt invincible.

Until it wasn’t.

Kaito didn’t argue. He just nodded, pushing another box toward the door.

You glanced around, taking in the room one last time. The cracked stool where Kaito used to sit when he got too tired standing. The corner of the room where Haru always left his water bottle. The space near the set of drums where Yuuma used to zone out between rehearsals. The spot where you had spent so many late nights rewriting lyrics, surrounded by the sound of your friends messing around, playing half-finished chords, and making stupid jokes.

It was hard to believe that by next week, another band would be standing in this same space.

That this room—your room—would belong to someone else.

“Alright.” You clapped your hands together, forcing a small smile. “Let’s finish up.”

No one argued.

Because there was nothing left to fight for.

So you worked.

Packing up the remnants of what used to be something grand.

-

Touya wasn’t used to asking for things. Not from other people. Not from institutions. Not even from himself.

But here he was, sitting in the suffocatingly sterile office of the university’s administrative staff, pushing down every instinct that told him to just walk out and let things be. He couldn’t let things be.

The chair was stiff. The air was too still. His leg bounced impatiently under the desk, but he forced himself to keep his voice even.

“I’m here about the band that oversees the music club.”

The staff member—a woman who looked about one budget cut away from quitting her job altogether—barely spared him a glance as she shuffled through a stack of papers. “The band that was dissolved?”

Touya clenched his jaw. Yeah. The one I fucked up.

“…Yeah,” he muttered.

The woman sighed, rubbing her temples. “If you’re here to file a complaint, I’ll stop you right now. The rules are clear—without a complete lineup, the band can’t maintain active status, but the club is still available for students who want to learn to play instruments.”

“No, no. I’m not here to join the club,” Touya exhaled slowly, fingers twitching against the fabric of his jeans. “And I’m not filing a complaint about the band,” he said. “I’m fixing it.”

That got her attention. She gave him a once-over, unimpressed. “You’re fixing it?”

“Yes.” His fingers dug into his palm. “Reinstate the band.”

The woman stared at him for a long moment, then let out a dry chuckle. “It’s not that simple, kid.”

Touya hated that. Hated how she dismissed him so easily, like he was just some desperate student throwing a last-minute plea.

But, to be fair, he was desperate. He’s never been this desperate before, but the moment he saw another band in your practice room, he couldn’t leave it as is.

He swallowed back the frustration rising in his throat. “Look, we need a full lineup, right?” He met her gaze evenly. “They’ve got one. I’m playing bass.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “You?”

Touya nodded.

She tapped her fingers against the desk, considering. “…And this isn’t just some last-ditch effort to get back on a technicality?”

“No. I was just… a little late due to some… personal conflicts.”

She gave him another long look, then sighed, shaking her head. “If the band can prove they’re competition-ready by the end of the month, we’ll consider reinstatement on a probationary basis.”

Touya exhaled, relief flooding his chest. “I’ll take it.”

The woman slid a stack of papers toward him. “Then fill these out.”

-

The first thing Touya did after leaving the office was find you.

It wasn’t hard—because he asked a few students from your department where you usually stayed. The rooftop, they all said.

“What now, Todoroki?” you asked, not even bothering to look at him.

“I was going to play.”

The words were soft. Too soft for him.

Your hand stilled, pausing from rewriting your notes.

Touya let out a slow breath, stepping forward, leaning against the railing a few feet away from you. He didn’t look at you. Just stared out at the view below, where the campus stretched out in the afternoon light.

“I was ready,” he said. “That night. Before the music fest. I had my bass; I was going,” he admitted, shaking his head. “And then my old man showed up.”

Touya rarely talked about his father. Much less to anyone—especially you. You had heard things, of course—whispers, rumors, the kind of stories that floated around when a family name like his carried a reputation. But you never asked. It wasn’t your place.

And your priorities lie elsewhere.

You stayed silent, letting him speak.

“He told me to drop it. Said there was no point. That I was wasting my time.” Touya’s fingers curled slightly against the railing. “And I don’t know why it got to me. I thought I stopped giving a shit a long time ago. But right then, it was like I was a kid again, standing in that room full of trophies that didn’t mean anything to him.”

His voice was quiet. Not bitter, not angry—just honest.

“And I got scared.” His jaw tensed. “Because what if he was right?”

You blinked at him as he turned to face you, though you were quick to avert your gaze.

“What if I was wasting my time?” Touya said more than asked. “What if I walked into that music fest, got on stage, and realized I didn’t have it anymore? What if it wasn’t worth it?”

He got a bit closer to where you sat.

“So I didn’t go.” He glanced up at the sky. “I stayed home. Didn’t answer my phone. Figured it wouldn’t matter anyway.”

You stared at your notes, but the words were starting to blur.

“You were right,” Touya mused after a long pause. “Giving you hope was the worst thing I could’ve done.” He sighed. “You should’ve hit me for that one.”

You finally turned to look at him, and for the first time, he actually met your gaze. His eyes weren’t cold or distant, not laced with sarcasm or carelessness.

They were just… open.

You swallowed and looked back down.

“You used to love it,” you concluded. It wasn’t a question.

Touya gave a slow nod. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I did.”

The wind was the only thing that spoke for a while.

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to say to that. To him.

But…

You could hear it in his voice. The regret. The way he hated himself for it more than anyone else ever could.

That didn’t change much. Your band was still dissolved either way. And you’ve been drowning yourself in your studies to ignore the ache.

But maybe—

Maybe it meant something.

His hands were still in his pockets, his shoulders tense like he wasn’t used to saying things that actually mattered. Like he had already braced himself for whatever you were going to throw at him—anger, disappointment, indifference.

But instead of waiting for you to say anything else, he spoke first.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His voice was steady, quieter than usual. “And I’m not asking you to.”

You blinked, fingers tightening slightly around the edges of your notebook.

He sighed, shifting his weight. “But I talked to the organizers, professors, and staff. The university president, too.” He glanced at you, searching for a reaction, but you just stared, waiting. “The band’s registered again.”

Your breath hitched, barely noticeable—but he caught it.

“As long as you want to have a band,” he continued, his tone more certain now, “it’s yours. I’ll play.” He tilted his head slightly, something almost pleading flickering in his gaze. “I should’ve played from the start. So if you’ll let me, I’ll do it now.”

He was serious.

There was no sarcasm, no deflection, no half-hearted attempt to make it seem like he wasn’t doing something that mattered. He wasn’t trying to be cool or detached.

For once, Todoroki Touya wasn’t running.

“And if I say no?”

Touya smiled slightly, but there was no arrogance in it—just something quiet, maybe even hopeful.

“Then I guess I’ll have to find a way to convince you.”

You looked at him, your knuckles white where they pressed against your closed notebook. The wind picked up, rustling the pages slightly, but you didn’t move. You barely breathed. Forgot to, maybe.

God, you hated him.

You hated how genuine he was being.

But more than anything—

You hated that you wanted to believe him.

“You really think it’s that simple?” you ask. It’s soft this time around.

“No.” Touya’s voice was level, calm. “But it’s a start.”

“You don’t get it.”

“Then tell me. I’ll listen.”

You couldn’t tell him.

Because the truth was, you believed him.

And that was the worst part. You’re too hopeful again, and what if this time around, the damage would be even more severe?

“You don’t have to do this.” Your voice was steady, but underneath it was something raw. “You don’t have to do all of this because you feel bad. Because you suddenly decided it mattered to you again.”

Touya didn’t flinch. He just listened.

You wanted to scream at him. Hit him. Something. Because how dare he stand there so calmly while you were unraveling all over again?

“I believed in you. Even when I knew I shouldn’t have. Even when everyone told me not to.” You had to clasp your hands together and take in a steady breath.

Touya was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, quietly—

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do.” His voice was lower this time, more certain. “I know because I did the same damn thing to myself. To be scared of something inevitable, I chose to run.”

That stopped you cold.

This made you realize—

This wasn’t easy for him, either.

The exhaustion in his posture, the way his hands curled into fists in his pockets—

He wasn’t just standing there expecting you to forgive him.

He was waiting for you to tell him no.

Waiting for you to tell him he had lost his last chance. To tell him to stop bothering you.

To leave you alone.

And you should.

God, you should.

But then there was the way he looked at you—

Not with pity. Not with indifference.

But like you were the only person in the world whose opinion could ruin him.

And you had never seen anyone look at you like that before.

-

Practice ran late. Not that anyone was really complaining—well, except for Kaito, who kept muttering about how his fingers were cramping up, but nobody paid him much attention. You were all riding the high of a solid rehearsal, the kind where everything clicked, and even though Touya would never admit it out loud, it felt good.

Really good.

It had been so long since he played in a group like this, since he let himself enjoy it instead of overanalyzing every note.

And then Yuuma, with his usual lack of impulse control, had to break the comfortable silence.

“Okay, but seriously,” he said, spinning a drumstick between his fingers as he leaned against the wall. “How the hell did we get you?”

Touya, who had just been double-checking the tuning pegs on his bass, glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “Huh?”

Kaito grinned. “He’s got a point, man. You’re Todoroki Touya.”

Touya frowned. “Yeah. I know my own name.”

“No, but seriously,” Yuuma insisted, gesturing vaguely. “You’re like—this mysterious, untouchable figure on campus. The guy who doesn’t show up to class half the time but still somehow passes. The guy who sits in the back of the room and barely talks to anyone. And now, suddenly, you’re our bassist?”

Touya exhaled through his nose. “You make it sound like some divine intervention.”

“It is,” Yuuma said, completely serious. Then, without missing a beat—“Do you have a girlfriend?”

…

“What?”

“Yeah,” Kaito snickered. “That would actually explain so much.”

You, on the other hand, were completely distracted with your phone to even pay the boys any attention.

Haru, who had been silently observing the conversation like he was watching a wildlife documentary, finally chimed in. “Are you implying that Touya was bribed into joining the band?”

Yuuma nodded sagely. “Exactly. Like—imagine he’s secretly dating some hardcore musician chick who was like, ‘Touya, babe, you need to do this for me,’ and he just couldn’t say no.”

Touya gave him the flattest look imaginable. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?” Haru asked, adjusting his glasses.

Touya sighed, already regretting all of his life choices. “No.”

Yuuma snapped his fingers. “Damn. There goes that theory.” Then, after a beat, he turned to you. “By the way, do we have a budget for a talent fee?”

You glanced up. “Huh?”

Yuuma jerked a thumb at Touya. “I mean, we basically landed a celebrity. Should we be paying him or something?”

Touya scoffed. “You can’t afford me.”

Kaito snickered. “Damn, that’s bold.”

“What?” Yuuma grinned. “I’m just saying, we might as well treat him like a high-profile guest artist.”

Touya smirked. “You should be honored.”

“This is dumb,” you laughed.

Yuuma, still grinning, slung his bag over his shoulder. “But for real, you’re actually sticking around this time, right?”

Touya hesitated.

The question felt heavier than it should’ve. Because a few months ago, the answer would’ve been an easy no. Why would I waste my time? This wouldn’t matter.

But now?

He exhaled, shifting his bass case higher on his shoulder.

“…Yeah,” he muttered. “All the way.”

Kaito whooped, slapping him on the back. “Hell yeah.”

Yuuma smirked. “Good. Because if you did bail again, I was fully prepared to start charging you a dropout fee.”

Touya snorted. “You wish.”

You, who had been watching him carefully, finally exhaled and gave him a slight nod. “Then don’t be late tomorrow. Same time.”

Touya smirked. “No promises.”

You gave him a knowing look.

Yuuma grinned. “Alright, then—welcome to the band, officially.”

And for the first time in years, standing there with his new bandmates, feeling the weight of his bass strap across his shoulder and the lingering buzz of rehearsal in his fingertips—

Touya actually felt like he was home.

-

With the recent turn of events, jealousy is an apparent feeling for those who aren’t as privileged to have snagged Todoroki Touya.

And it all started as whispers.

Small, snide comments whenever you walked past the other bands in the music hall. Barely-there smirks, little glances, and the occasional scoff from some second-rate bassist who thought they were so much better because they had never once lost a performance slot.

You ignored them.

You had better things to do. Your band was back, and with Touya as your bassist, things were better and stronger than before. You were making up for lost time, running setlists late into the night, writing new songs, fixing old ones. The fire was back in your chest, the thrill of the stage creeping closer.

But the whispers didn’t stop.

And eventually, they weren’t whispers anymore.

You were passing by the courtyard, Touya trailing half a step behind you, when a group of students—members of another well-known band—let their conversation just slip into earshot.

“She’s lucky, isn’t she?”

“Right? If we had a prodigy like Todoroki, we’d be unstoppable.”

“I mean, let’s be real, he’s the only reason they even got reinstated.”

“I wonder if she realizes how much she’s riding on his talent. Kind of embarrassing if you think about it.”

Your steps faltered, just for a second.

But you didn’t stop.

Didn’t give them the satisfaction of giving them your time.

Touya, though—he did stop.

You had taken another step before you realized he wasn’t beside you anymore. You turned, frowning, just as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and tilted his head at the group, expression unreadable.

“Oh, sorry,” he drawled. “Didn’t realize I had groupies.”

The students stiffened. “What?”

“You’re talking about me like I’m not right here.” His tone was light, almost amused. “That desperate for attention?”

One of them scoffed, recovering quickly. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious [Last Name]’s band wouldn’t stand a chance without you.”

You clenched your fists, but Touya—he laughed.

It wasn’t a friendly laugh.

It was sharp and unimpressed.

“Yeah?” He raised a brow, amusement fading into something colder. “Then why is it that even before I joined, they were the best band on campus?”

The students shifted uncomfortably.

“I mean, that’s what pisses you off, right?” Touya continued, taking a slow step forward. His presence was overwhelming, gaze sharp as he looked them over. “They were already winning before me. [Name] built that band from the ground up, and everyone knew they were the ones to beat.”

No one said anything.

He smirked. “But if it makes you feel better to pretend it’s all me, go ahead. Must be easier than admitting you just suck.”

One of them clenched their jaws. “What’s your deal, man? You don’t even care about bands or competitions.”

Touya rolled his shoulders, casting a glance back at you.

You hadn’t said a word, but he could see it—the way your grip on your bag had tightened, the way your jaw was locked. You weren’t going to defend yourself. 

Which was fine.

Because he would.

“I didn’t care,” he admitted, looking back at them. “Didn’t give a fuck about any of this.” His smirk widened, but his eyes were sharp. 

“But I do now. And you know what I found out?”

The weight of his words sank in, and no one had a response.

“I actually kind of like it,” he hummed. “So try to keep up. Because for the remaining two years, we’ll never lose as long as [Name] and I are onboard.”

With that, he turned back to you, nodding toward the path ahead. “Come on. We’ve got practice.”

You stared at him for a beat longer, then let out a slow breath and walked beside him, leaving the others behind.

They didn’t talk about it and didn't bring it up again.

But as you headed toward the music room, Touya nudged you lightly with his elbow.

“They’re just jealous,” he said, voice quieter now. “You know that, right?”

You exhaled, then, finally, nodded just a little.

“Obviously.”

-

“Alright,” Yuuma had said one afternoon, spinning a drumstick between his fingers, “hypothetically, if you were going to make it up to [Name]—properly, not just half-assed—what would you do?”

Touya, who had been tuning his bass, barely spared him a glance. 

“I already apologized.”

Kaito snorted. “Yeah, and she tolerated it. Barely.”

“Then what do you want me to do? Write her a sonnet?” Touya asked. 

Haru, from where he was perched on top of the amplifier, added, “Not a sonnet. A song.”

“Excuse me?”

Yuuma grinned. “Dude, it’s perfect. She’s all about the band, right? Music’s what she actually gives a damn about. So if you really want her to believe you’re in this for real, show her through music.”

Kaito nodded. “Exactly. Words don’t mean shit to [Name] unless there’s proof behind them.”

Touya frowned, fingers idly running along the strings of his bass.

Writing a song.

It had been years since he’d tried—since he let himself create rather than just play. Back then, his notebooks had been filled with half-finished compositions, lyrics scratched out and rewritten over and over again. He had loved it once.

He was conflicted.

Yuuma clapped him on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. “You in?”

Touya exhaled sharply. “…Fine.”

Yuuma grinned. “Good answer. It’s sooner or later that you’ll learn that we actually can’t take no for an answer here.”

-

The first problem?

Touya had no idea where to start.

Sure, he knew how to write—he knew chord progressions, rhythms, and structure. But what the hell was he supposed to say?

It wasn’t like he was about to write some sappy, ‘I’m sorry for being an asshole.’

The actual writing process was a disaster in itself.

Yuuma wanted a fast tempo—something that hit hard and kept the energy high.

Kaito argued for something more melodic, something with room to breathe.

Haru, the only one thinking practically, kept reminding them that it had to fit your vocal range.

Touya, meanwhile, wanted to strangle all of them. It’s hard to believe that he and Yuuma were in the same year because the latter acted so childish—so energetic.

It took days of back-and-forth, of testing out different riffs, of scrapping entire verses because they weren’t good enough.

But eventually, they had something.

Something undeniably theirs.

Now all that was left was playing it for her.

-

Practice started like any other day.

You arrived on time, as usual, already flipping through your notebook and mumbling about setlists before anyone could even say a word.

Touya, despite knowing what was about to happen, stayed silent.

It wasn’t his place to introduce this.

It had to be them. All of them.

And, sure enough—

“Actually,” Kaito cut in, casually adjusting his guitar strap, “we’ve got something new to go over today.”

You tilted your head to the side. “What?”

Yuuma grinned. “Surprise.”

“If this is another one of your pranks—”

“It’s not,” Haru assured you. “Just listen.”

You sighed, clearly not in the mood for their antics, but you leaned back against the chair anyway, crossing your arms. “Fine. But if this sucks, we will proceed with the hardest entry as our warmup song.”

Touya smiled. “Noted.”

And then they started playing.

The first few notes were soft, subdued—a simple melody carried by Haru’s keys, the kind of sound that felt like waking up from a long dream. Then the bassline came in, low and steady, grounding everything. Touya’s fingers moved instinctively, muscle memory taking over, like the song had always existed in him, just waiting to be played.

Kaito’s guitar layered over it, bright and sharp, a contrast to the weight of the rhythm section. And then Yuuma’s drums kicked in—fast, insistent, alive.

The song had movement.

Had feeling.

It wasn’t an apology.

It was a promise.

By the time the last chord faded into silence, [Name] was staring.

Not in shock, not in disbelief—

But something Touya couldn’t quite name.

He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, avoiding your gaze. 

“Well?”

“…You wrote this?” you asked.

Touya nodded, feeling strangely exposed. “Yeah.”

There was a long pause, and for a second, he thought maybe this had been a mistake. That maybe you’d say too little, too late.

But then—

“…It’s good,” you told him, laughing quietly. “Is this our entry for the Music Mayhem Event?”

Yuuma grinned. “Hell yeah, it is.”

Touya smiled, nudging at you a little. “So. Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“I… actually forgave you when you sought me out on the rooftop.”

“Wait, really?:

“Yeah, I— really don’t hold grudges for long.”

Yuuma clapped him on the back. “Dude, that’s so romantic.”

Kaito laughed. “Congrats, man. You got to apologize twice and wrote a song for the competition. Killed two birds with one stone.”

Haru just nodded, satisfied. “Saves us the trouble and time, then.”

Yeah.

Looked like it was.

-

The venue was packed. 

Touya rolled his shoulders, gripping his bass a little tighter than necessary. The strap dug into his shoulder, grounding him, reminding him that this was real. No running this time. No excuses.

You were beside him, your fingers tapping against your mic, an old nervous habit you refused to acknowledge. You exhaled through your nose, a slow, measured breath, but Touya could see it—you were excited. No, more than that—you were ready.

Kaito was tuning his guitar, barely holding back a cocky grin. Yuuma stretched his arms, rolling his neck, hyping himself up under his breath. Haru was calm, adjusting his keyboard settings with precise movements, unreadable as always.

“Make sure your voice doesn’t crack, Todoroki,” you commented.

Touya chuckled. “We’ll see.”

Then the announcer’s voice boomed over the speakers:

“Next up—give it up for—”

The crowd erupted.

Lights flooded the stage, hot and blinding.

And then, it was just them.

-

If you told Todoroki Touya that he’d be playing the bass again after eight years, he would’ve laughed right in your face.

(Mm, yeah, I know how this goes…

You stand in the light, I fade in the smoke…)

He would’ve told you that he didn’t care how good he used to be. He’s lost interest, to put it into simpler terms.

(Didn’t ask you to chase me down—didn’t need another fight…

But there you were, reckless and loud, saying we could get it right…)

He would’ve told you that he had better things to do. 

But now, he did. Touya was playing the bass.

Touya didn’t just play—he felt it. His fingers moved on instinct against the strings, like they had a mind of their own, like he was carving out something raw, something familiar, something that had been trapped inside him for too long.

Then came the pre-chorus. The tension built.

And that’s when he came in.

(Yeah, I left you hanging, left you cold—swore I’d never play that role…

But damn, you still play me like a note…)

His voice was rougher, rasping with emotion, clashing with your smoother tone in a way that shouldn’t have worked—but it did. You turned toward him, stepping closer, your voices winding together like opposing forces caught in the same storm.

And then—

The chorus hit.

(We’re smoke and starlight, burning too bright—

Falling too fast, getting lost in the night!

Say you don’t need me, say you don’t care—

But we both know I’m still hanging there!)

You and Touya met in the middle of the stage, mic stands forgotten. 

You were fire; he was smoke.

Then came the second verse, and it was yours to claim as his voice faded into the background.

(You don’t beg, you don’t plead—

But I hear it in the way you breathe…

Sick of ghosts and dead-end dreams—

But somehow, you still look at me…)

Your gaze caught his. And Touya—he didn’t look away. He looked at you because you were the only one he could see—that he wanted to see.

The music dipped again, shifting into the bridge. Everything stripped back—just the bass and your voice.

(You don’t get to walk away, not this time…

Not after leaving me behind…

You play ghosts, I play fire…

But even flames need something to burn inside…)

The way you sang it—low, steady, sharp as a blade—it sent a shiver down his spine. It tugged at his heartstrings in a way that didn’t feel like him.

Then—

The build.

Drums creeping back in. Guitar humming under the surface. The energy climbing—

And then everything crashed into the final chorus.

(We’re smoke and starlight, burning too bright—

Falling too fast, getting lost in the night!

Say you don’t need me, say you don’t care—

But we both know I’m still hanging there!)

It was undeniable. It was everything.

As the last note hit, ringing through the venue, the whole place seemed to hold its breath.

And then—

The deafening eruption.

Viewers screamed. Hands shot up. The cheers were deafening. Even the judges looked impressed, their quiet conversation lost under the sheer force of the audience’s reaction.

You stood at the front, chest heaving, sweat beading at your temple, but your eyes—your eyes—burned with something victorious.

Touya, gripping his bass, let out a slow breath.

This was it.

For the first time in a long time, he felt it.

Not just the music. Not just the stage.

But the want.

The need.

The need to keep playing.

You had done it.

Done this to him.

And it was only the beginning.

-

Todoroki Touya never thought he’d come to this point.

His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, sweat dripping down his temple, his adrenaline spiking so hard that he could barely stand still. The entire band was high off the energy, voices overlapping as they half-shouted, half-laughed at each other, Yuuma swinging an arm around his shoulders while someone shoved a bottle of water into his hands.

“That was insane!” Your guitarist, Kaito, was saying, practically vibrating with excitement. “Holy shit, did you see how the crowd lost it when we hit that last chorus?”

“Dude, [Name] killed that bridge,” Yuuma added, shaking his head in disbelief. “And Touya? Bro, your bass solo? I felt that in my soul.”

Touya barely registered the words.

Because across the room, you were glowing.

To Touya, you had this look about you, the way you always did after a performance—flushed cheeks, the slight sheen of sweat on your skin making you radiate under the dim backstage lights. You were standing just a few feet away, laughing breathlessly, one hand gripping the back of your neck as you spoke with their events coordinator, your body still thrumming with the rush of the performance.

Touya swallowed.

There was something clawing up his ribs, something tight, something desperate, and before he even realized what he was doing—before he could stop himself—he moved.

His fingers curled around your wrist, firm but not rough, and you barely had time to react before he was pulling you with him, slipping past the others and into the dimly lit hallway behind the stage.

“Hey—Touya, what—?”

You didn’t finish.

Because the second you were out of sight, the second you two were alone, Touya turned, one hand still gripping your wrist, the other lifting without hesitation—

And he kissed you.

It was instinct, thoughtless and reckless, but it felt right.

You went rigid.

For a single, heart-stopping second, you didn’t move, didn’t react—so still that Touya almost panicked. Almost pulled away, almost started to stammer some kind of half-assed explanation, almost—

But then you inhaled sharply, and your fingers curled into his shirt, gripping him like you were trying to ground yourself.

And that was all it took.

Touya’s grip tightened, his palm cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing against your cheek. His lips moved against yours with the feeling of overflowing feelings that are just too good to put into words.

The music, the rush, the way your voice had wrapped around his on stage like you had been made for this, for each other.

Whatever this feeling was, it had been simmering beneath the surface, lingering in the way he always found himself seeking you out, the way he stayed just a little longer after practice, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t paying attention.

And now—now—it was spilling over, like an overfilled cup, impossible to ignore any longer.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless; Touya didn’t move far. His forehead rested against yours, his hand still cradling your face, fingers brushing along your skin.

You were staring at him, wide-eyed, your lips parted in shock, chest still rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

“Huh..?”

Touya exhaled sharply, trying to steady his pulse, trying to make sense of the mess in his chest.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, voice rough, strained.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, his breath still mingling with yours, but one thing’s for sure.

“But I think I wanna do it again.”

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[sugarwarachan]

(･ω･)つ andy's notes: feeling sad about the todoroki brothers and wrote about shouto pining hard. cws: angsty, shouto's messy thoughts on touya x nurse!reader, the todoroki family's wack-ass dynamics

the last time shouto ever really held his brother was years ago, when touya was exhausted and dying and angry, the boiling-hot slick of his skin rolling icy-hot under shouto's palm.

it's hard to remember how much touya hated him, even harder still to reconcile the image of his brother now with the man brought into the hospital all those years ago. his rehabilitation has been slow. countless surgeries and months of physical therapy have finally brought him a degree of relief, but the prosthetics still irritate his skin and it's a rare day when he can feed himself.

"i want more than fuckin' jello."

shouto can't help but chuckle at his brother's tone from across the room. it's always better to keep his distance when touya's back from surgery.

"too bad," is your inevitable reply. you've been touya's nurse for the past year and a half, a position normally held for a week or so. touya noted you've stayed on this long because you don't take any shit. "you got out of the OR only a few hours ago." you spoon a bite into his mouth, his scowl at being waited-upon like this evident.

shouto doesn't understand his displeasure. if anything, it looks...nice. domestic. something soft and hazy that neither brother knows much about, which is how he realizes his expression matches touya's fervent, hopeful longing.

he turns away to check his phone, ears burning.

visiting his brother is a necessity. shouto wouldn't divert from this routine any more than he would stop writing to his mother, but his brain's commitment has not caught up with his heart.

"why do they keep dragging me back there?" touya snarls. his mood is particularly foul today; the pain must be bad. "it's not like they're gonna make this ugly mug any prettier."

"improving your quality of life matters," you say, a bite in your voice. "and stop calling yourself ugly. it's not healthy."

you turn to him calmly, a gentle smile on your face. he wipes his own clear. "shouto, tell your brother how much words matter."

touya saves him from replying, which is best, because shouto never quite knows what to say after you ask something of him. "god woman, i get enough of this in therapy. give it a rest."

the set of your jaw is stubborn as you stare him down.

"fine. i suppose you'll just have to record a journal entry later to help you better reflect." you smile sweetly, a hint of flirtation lighting up your eyes. "well, i'll leave you two alone now. come get me when you're done," you say to shouto before closing the door behind you.

"weaponizing a man's own therapy journal against him, honestly." touya shakes his head, a dopey grin spreading across his face. "can you believe her?"

shouto might not always know how to respond to people, but he knows that question isn't meant for him to answer.

they catch up in their awkward, patched-up way, and when he stands to leave, he tries not to let the look of relief on touya's face hurt too much.

you're waiting outside with more jello. a playful grimace dances on your lips. "his favorite," you say, shaking the cup and shouldering your way into the room.

"more?!" he hears touya shout, followed by your giggle, high and bright.

you're good for him. in his way, touya is good for you, too.

and yet -

his desire to snatch away one of the good things in his brother's life is probably the most villainous thing about himself.

he doesn't have the stomach for betrayal, doesn't even really have the will, but thoughts swirl in his head nonetheless. shouto can't imagine a world where he can live outside of his family's name, one where he might fall in love and marry in a quiet ceremony.

but he can imagine those things for touya.

and he tell himself that's enough.

[bbluefllame]

I love your UA Touya so muchhhh!!! If you don’t mind, can you write down UA Touya HC’s!!!🤍🤍

U.A touya hcs !!

note: I was gonna save this till I finish all my other reqs but I decided why the fuck not 😭 also thank u for loving my ua touya!! he's officially my everything‼️ also also!!! this is a sugar spice and everything nice universe<3 everyone's okay here ‼️

- nepo baby I have nothing else to say, you've def went on multiple trips w him and his family (ur basically the 5th child for them). His bday gifts go so hard and he's like "yeah yeah whateverrrr" while blushing if u hug him!!

- he's a super heavy sleeper. Like normal touya is a menace while sleeping, ua touya is double that and it's scary I fear him. Sleepovers always end up with you going to sleep in the guest room cs the mf won't stop moving, kicking, snoring, and talking (and occasionally shouting)😭 instead of js "no I don't do that." he'd go "huh don't remember doing it so it didn't happen. 🤷‍♂️" obviously you don't remember you were sleeping mf.

- he gives his all in training (esp cs he has support gear), training w him is like a full-on battle it's a fucking struggle to hold him down, but also he'd be the best training partner you'd ever have. He would NEVER and I say NEVER take it easy unless you ask him to, if he gives it his all he wants you to give it your all.

- loves SWS and PTV, has been forced into piano by Rei as a child and kind of liked it, he probably likes classical music bcs Enji played it alot as well and it helps him focus while studying. OVERALL incredibly into music and could talk abt it for hours (you probably have listened to him rant abt music for 2 hrs straight before)

- is a failure in the kitchen no questions asked, he asked Fuyumi to teach him how to make soba once, 10 minutes in he starts scratching his head going "uh huhhh got it" (HE DOES NOT GET IT!!!!!)

- loves chemistry and math, don't ask why he just does also he gives off good at drawing without trying?? like he's a natural, all the art teachers adored him!!!!

- Shoto and Touya are so silly tg. Touya rolls his eyes and pouts, shoto copies his big brother even if he doesn't know what he's doing😭😭 Touya does something remotely cool and Shoto's looking up at Touya with sparkles in his eyes like "THATS MY BIG BROTHERRR!!!" while clapping (this is when shoto is a lot younger ofc not when he's 15‼️ he still adores his big brother at 15 tho)

- touya pretends he hates how close you and shoto are but the mf adores it and thinks it's adorable and sweet!!

- natsuo and touya are gossipers. Except Touya has all the dirt and Natsuo gasps while nodding his head, after all of that they RUN to Fuyumi who tells them "At the end of the day, we shouldn't talk about people." while sighing as if she isn't noting it down in her head to run and tell it to her bsf ‼️

- you can't tell me he's not putting his hand on his head whenever he's flirted with and going "WTF DO I DO!!" and if it's you (even if it's joking and through text) he's sitting on his bed giggling at 3 am and then panicking internally before acting nonchalant and texting "ew"

- he does get girls and guys tho, he's too pretty to not have bitches 😭 he just doesn't know what to do with the bitches ‼️‼️

- loves abandoned spots, he forces you to go with him even if ur scared while you're going "bro there's a ghost I'm telling you" he's like "what is it gonna do?? eat you??" While rolling his eyes or sumn😭

- you best believe if he feels sumn though he's running for his life, like he could be on par with Iida bcs of how fucking scared he'd get he's shooting his fire behind him and RUNNING!! in the end it's probably a spider or sumn and he's like "pfff I knew that!!!"

- has some sort of rivalry with Keigo even if he didn't do anything ALSO you showing interest in keigo just makes the hate 10× more intense he tweaks the second he sees you looking at keigo.

- he swears up and down left and right that he hates roblox but he LIESSSS!! you could find him 3 am on dress to impress arguing w kids about emo vs goth cs mfs don't know the difference

- on the topic of roblox, you, shoto, and him probably play it once a week tg (shoto chooses the game 99% of the time)

- whenever he's anxious or sumn he just goes "cool yeah coolcoolcool" cool is the most overused word in his dictionary trust (he just kinda reminds me of jake Peralta in the vocabulary department..)

- makes sure shoto memorizes the lyrics to hot and cold by Katy perry just bcs it's funny to him (it's so stupid), there's a dance number and everything TRUST!!!

- 4 am in the morning, rei has walked in on touya on his knees doing the emo hand move thing while singing with a comb.

- HE TURNS THT SHIT OFF SOOOO FAST WHILE COUGHING AND COVERING HIS FACE

- rant to him all you want, he might not understand but he'd listen ‼️‼️ (the second he hears of any mistreatment he tweaks)

- during the sports festival he's burned keigo's feathers multiple times (cough cough reference)

- sorry everyone but he IS one of those "Oh you like sws? name 5 songs." God forbid he sees a preppy nirvana t-shirt, he'd burn it in the store and run away

- he's actually pretty touchy when he's comfortable, like pinkies wrapped tg or hand around ur shoulder just has to have a hand on you at all times ‼️‼️

- overall awesome bsf, awesome brother, and would be an awesome bf!!

okay I'm done now it's 2 am and i gotta sleep hope u like this anon !!! 😔😔 (soz for making this so long)

[deadhands69]

Lights. Camera. Action?

When y/n keeps ending up in every porn trope imaginable, how will the league of villains react?  crack w/adult situations, language gn/afab reader Four short stories featuring: Tomura Shigaraki, Suichi Iguchi (Spinner), and Touya Todoroki (Dabi)

Stuck in the Washing Machine (feat. Tomura Shigaraki)

This laundry day has not gone as planned. You were almost done. A basket full of clean, fresh laundry warm out of the dryer. All of your chores finished before noon! 

Then you see it: one last sock clinging to the back of the drum. 

Naturally, you lean in to pull it out. Should be simple, right? Unfortunately not. 

When you back up to pull yourself out, you hit your head in the process and your hair gets caught in one of the screws. 

“Fucking piece of shit,” you mumble, cursing the old appliance for existing. 

Well, you'll just have to untangle it, right? Easier said than done. You can't quite see where you're caught since it's so close to your scalp. In addition to that, you can't move your arms far enough in this position to do much of anything. 

You're stuck.

Then you hear it: footsteps. Deus ex machina; you're saved! 

“Hey,” your yells echo back at you, nearly painfully. “Can you help me?”

“What?” Tomura Shigaraki’s sleepy voice drawls from the hallway before you hear his footsteps approaching. 

“I'm stuck,” you mumble, slightly ashamed of your situation.

“How the fuck did you manage that,” his gravely voice projects down at you, sounding…hot. You try to block the thought from your mind, there are more pressing matters at hand.

“Wow, you're actually stuck in there,” he says, barely hiding his amusement. 

Yeah, he definitely sounds hot today. You're not sure what got you in this mood. Was it something you ate? Didn't eat? Maybe you're ovulating. In any case, suddenly you're desperate for him. If fucking someone's voice was on the table, you'd be first in line. Shit, you need to pull yourself together. 

“Can you help?” you say a little more suggestively, arching your back to give him a view of the tiny shorts you threw on this morning.

“Uh, I can try.” You listen as his footsteps grow closer until you can see his sweat pant clad legs in what little peripheral vision you have. 

He pulls out his phone for the flashlight, reaching his hands as far into the dryer as he can get. The closeness only spurs you on. With as much motion as you're capable of, you lean into his leg, rubbing your hip against him like a cat. 

“Can you hold still?” he groans, voice still sending a thrill through you. 

“Need you,” you moan, feeling drunk on your own arousal. 

“I know you do. There's no way you're getting this untangled on your own.” 

In the corner of your eye, a piece of metal flashes as he pulls it from his pocket. This draws you back to reality, but only barely. 

“Wait,” you exclaim, “is that a knife?”

“Well, I'm not about to decay your head. Just hold still, I've almost got it.”

The clatter of the knife and dull sound of your hair being sliced reverberate around you. Suddenly, you're free. 

Standing up, you stretch for a moment. When you turn to look at Shigaraki, he hands you a chunk of your hair. Confused, you accept it. Great, first you were stuck now you've had an impromptu haircut. That's nice.

Maybe this morning doesn't have to be all bad though. 

“Since you saved me,” you lay it on thick, gripping his bicep, “is there anything I can do to thank you?”

“Yeah,” he yawns then considers for a moment, “since you're offering, can you throw my clothes in the dryer? And try not to get yourself stuck again,” he calls out from the doorway as he leaves. 

Pizza Delivery Boy (feat. Spinner)

It was just here yesterday, you think while ripping apart your bedroom to find your wallet. If you would have checked earlier, you could have ordered from somewhere that let you pay with a saved card online or Venmo. Unfortunately, the best pizza place in your neighborhood has a strict cash only policy. By the time you realized you couldn’t find the money, the order was already in the oven and it was too late to cancel.

Your phone dings from under a pile of clothes. It’s one of your friends letting you know you left your wallet in her car last night; she'll drop it off after work late tonight. You switch apps to the delivery page. The status bar on your the screen ticks forward, indicating that the driver, ‘Spinner’, is on the way. Not that those are ever correct, but it gives you some vague idea of how little time you have left.

You pull up the couch cushions and search for change under the bed. The yield of your efforts still leaves you just short. Fuck.

With a screech of tires, followed by the light crunch of a vehicle hitting a curb, you're alerted to his presence. You rush to the door, watching through the peephole. The driver climbs out of his car with one hand carrying your pizza and the other flipping his magenta hair out of his face. The world briefly morphs into an old music video, it's like everything is in slow motion.

He’s cute. Really cute.

Maybe there’s another way you could pay for it.

“Hi, uh Spinner!” You answer the door with a bounce, suddenly feeling shy but you push through it. “So, here’s the thing. My friend has my wallet and I’m coming up short on cash. Surely there’s something I could do to make up for it?”

“Oh,” he says, processing what you’ve just said. He’s never had to deal with this on a delivery before.

“When’s your lunch break?” you ask in the most alluring voice you can manage.

“It’s now,” he says nonchalantly. “Well, it's soon. Right after I finish your delivery.”

“You wanna stick around,” you run your hands over his arm, pulling at the sleeve of his leather jacket. “I’m sure there’s some other way to make up for the rest of the bill.”

“Yeah, I’d be down to split it. You picked my favorite toppings and I need to get lunch anyways,” he says, moving into your living room to make himself at home.

As the two of you are eating, you keep glancing up at his face for signs he might be interested in more. Unfortunately, you got yourself pretty worked up in anticipation of trying to seduce him and you’re finding it nearly impossible to turn that off.

“So,” you muse, “after this. You still have like twenty minutes or so, right?”

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“I thought I could do something for you,” you lean into his shoulder, “you know, to make up for it?” 

“Oh, it’s really not a big deal. I had to get lunch anyways,” he says, “but if you want I could stick around for a bit. I think I know what you're getting at.”

He scoots and closer to the center of the couch near you and takes off his heavy jacket. “You know, I really appreciate it too. It's always so hard to unwind in the middle of the work day.”

Just as you're about to reach for his belt buckle, he leans past you – grabbing an n64 controller from the table. 

“You want to be Mario or Luigi?” he asks with a huge smile.

The two of you proceed to play the most awkward session of Super Mario Bros of your life, jumping down pipes when you wish he was sliding into yours. When he leaves, he asks for your number, exclaiming how great it is to have a good "video game bro" to hang out with during the day now.

Walked In On (feat. Dabi)

It’s been a long day and you finally get a moment to yourself. All you want is to unwind, what better way to do that than an orgasm? Jumping in the shower, you set the water temp just right. Your favorite music is playing and you relax into it. You finally find the perfect angle for the shower head when–

BANG!

Suddenly the door crashes open and your roommate Dabi barges in.

You stifle a moan for long enough to yell, “hey, I’m in here!” It’s no use though - he’s already in the room, digging through the medicine cabinet.

“Well, there’s only one bathroom and you’re hogging it. Besides,” he adds, “the only Tylenol in the house is in here.” That’s not true, you think to yourself, but it doesn’t matter: he ruined it. 

Or, maybe he didn’t.

Through the clear plastic shower curtain, you can make out his frame. Maybe you’re just turned on, but he’s pretty hot. And you’ve only been in here for five minutes, at most, he had to have timed it on purpose. It's almost like he wants to be in here with you. 

“Heyyy, Dabi,” you breathe, hoping he hears the longing in your voice and gets the hint it’s okay to join you from that alone.

“Yeah?” he asks, shaking some pills out of a bottle before drinking straight out of the faucet. 

“Can you give me some help in here?”

“What, did you get something caught in the drain or something? Because last time that was fucking disgu–”

“No, nothing like that,” you reply quickly, hoping to derail that thought before it gets too far. How is he not getting it, he’s the one who walked in here? “I mean, you came in at a very specific time.”

“Oh, that. If you needed me to get you tampons, you could have just said so. Not like I don't have a mom and sister. Yeah, I'll head to the store. We're out of paper towels so I need to go anyway.”

Good to know, but that's still not what you meant. 

“No,” you say exasperated, “that's not the help I'm asking for. Do you want to get in the shower with me?”

You aren't sure how you could make it more obvious than that, surely he has to understand now. 

He yanks the shower curtain back, startling you. But, now that he's here… his arms glisten with the drops of water splashing onto him from the shower. You notice the perfect line of his jaw, leaning in to kiss him.

Unfortunately for you, Dabi's attention is still elsewhere as he searches the ceiling. He moves, not noticing your advances.

“Is there a bug or something? That's what you needed help with in here, right?”

“There’s not a bug, I just thought maybe you’d want to take a shower with me.”

“Oh, yeah. That water bill was insane last month,” Dabi says, his face relaxing now that he thinks he understands. “I showered this morning though.”

He closes the curtain on you, turning to head out the door. “Plus,” he adds, “I wouldn’t want it to be weird for you to have to see my dick or anything.” 

Weird? That's exactly what you want. You finish your shower quickly and spend the rest of the evening hiding in your bedroom.

Casting Couch (feat. all three)

After months without so much as being called back, you jumped at the first job interview you landed. It’s at a seedy bar on the side of town you don’t usually visit, but that’s not a deal breaker. 

When you arrive, a polite man with some sort of smoke quirk greets you at the bar before taking you to a back room.

“Right this way,” he says, holding the door to the hallway. “They’re all back here waiting for you.”

“They? How many people are interviewing me?”

“Just the three of them, they like to work together on matters such as this.” He pushes open another door to a small room and gestures for you to sit on the couch across from the three men. They all perk up as soon as they see you and begin asking questions.

“So how much experience do you have?” asks the man with shaggy blue hair sitting across from you.

“How flexible are you in tough situations?” adds the one with the gecko quirk.

Then the darker haired man chimes in with, “how available can you make yourself?” 

It’s all so familiar.

The three attractive men across from you. The leather couch. All of the suggestive questions they’ve been asking. You’ve heard of interviews like this. With how long it’s taken you to find work, you’ll happily play along. Looking at the three of them, you’re even excited for it.

“Okay, let’s get this over with,” you say, taking off your sweater.

“Right now?” asks the blue haired one, looking more confused than you expected.

“Yeah, you want to see what I can do, right?” you reply provocatively.

“Yeah, but,” adds the one with nose piercings, “there’s not enough room in here.” The others nod in agreement.

At that statement, you wonder what kind of crazy shit you’ve gotten yourself into. Curiosity gets the best of you though and you push forward. Whatever it is, you still need the job.

“Then aren’t you going to take me somewhere else?”

“Yeah, you might want to put your sweater on though. It’s pretty cold out,” the man with the fuschia hair replies. Reluctantly, you throw your sweater back on, knowing you’ll just be peeling it off again in a little while.

“Well, lead the way!” you say excited at the prospect of a potential job and the opportunity to sleep with three of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen in your life. 

The four of you exit through the bar, the man at the counter waves knowingly. You exit, walking a few blocks down the sidewalk and turning to cut through a park. You must be going to one of their apartments. Abruptly, they stop in the middle of the field and turn to you.

“Now’s your time to shine,” the darker haired man nudges you.

“R-right here?” you ask.

“Yeah, this looks like a good place,” states the one with scars on his lip and eye. Again, the others nod in agreement. 

“But there are people...” you whisper, glancing at the busy playground nearby.

“Oh, these people aren’t bothered by anything,” starts the scaled man. “No one in this neighborhood is. Just keep it over here and they’ll mind their own business. Dabi comes down here and does this by himself all the time,” he adds, pointing at the man next to him. Dabi looks pretty proud of himself.

“Huh,” you consider, “well, if you say it’s okay. Maybe we can go behind the gazebo or something.”

“You shy or something?” asks the man who you now know as Dabi. 

“Yeah, something like that. I’ve just never done this before. Not like this, at least."

"Weird, but okay," says the one with blue hair.

The four of you walk behind the gazebo where you take your shirt off and they promptly ask if you are having heat flashes and need medical attention.

Needless to say, you did not get that job.

bnha masterlist

taglist: @shigarakislaughter @cryptidfuckerofficial @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme 

@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills 

@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter

@lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @kitkat13001 @kennys-partner @amira-44820

@its-evee16 @love-for-yoosung-kim

[willowser]

i keep thinking about touya going to the same spot he and his ex do drop off, every two weeks. it's outside some little bakery that he thinks is too expensive—and he has a sneaking suspicion that's why his baby mama chose the place—but he always buys his little bug something regardless. a pink pastry with lots of sprinkles and frosting, in the shape of a unicorn or something or other.

and you always come with him. have been for a few years now and you make friendly small talk with his ex and when his daughter jumps into your arms, you swing her around and you both giggle to each other, foreheads pressed together, eyelashes blinking close enough to make his heart swell.

and the first time you're not there, his daughter doesn't wait a minute after jumping out of her mom's car to frown up at him and ask, "where's bub?"

and truthfully, touya's been dreading this moment since he'd pissed you off enough to have you storming out of his apartment, a few days ago. still doesn't know what to tell her, how to explain that he's never loved someone the way he loves you and yet he's sabotaging everything anyway.

"bub is at bub's house."

her light little eyebrows pull down ever further, until a crease forms between them, and then she even takes another look behind him in case he's joking. "why?"

touya grinds his gum between his teeth and tells himself it's better than a cigarette. "she just is."

his ex doesn't say anything, thank god, but he can feel the once over she gives him. he looks like shit and he knows it, because he's aggravated and disappointed in himself, and all the things he'd normally use to deal with those feelings would break his sobriety. so he's only got some spearmint gum.

his daughter doesn't say anything else until they're in their seats on the train, her by the window, drawing shapes in the fog her breath makes. they go through a tunnel and the light from the day disappears and she loses interest, turning to stare up at touya as he closes his eyes and leans his head back as far as it can go.

"are you and bub mad at each other?"

touya opens his eyes, but stares only at the ceiling of the train. all he can see is the hurt on your face when he'd yelled at you, the anger that he drew out, like a poison. "it's—" one thing he tries not to do to his kid, however, is lie. "somethin' like that."

she shuffles around in her seat until she's facing him fully, leaning her head against the back of it as she blinks her big, blue eyes up at him. "did she be mean to you?"

"no."

"did you be mean to her?"

it seems so complicated, when touya thinks about it. why he'd started a fight with you, where his insecurity comes from, why he wants you so bad but is too afraid to admit it out loud—but then his kid makes it seem so easy. so silly.

touya shuffles until he's facing her, too, and even scoots down in his chair so they're eye-level, almost like whispering school girls at a slumber party. "yeah," he admits. "i was kinda mean to her."

"but why?"

touya frowns and still doesn't know what to say. the city skyline opens up behind her, out in the distance, and he watches the setting sun over the buildings until it starts to make him sick. "you remember when you had that scooter, and you fell and scraped your knee?" she nods. "and then you didn't want to ride it anymore because you were afraid you'd do it again? it's...like that."

not a single look of understanding comes across her face.

touya sighs and scoots back upright, bending to dig his phone from his pocket. "you wanna talk to her?"

"yeah!"

he pulls up your contact in his phone—just your name and all the hearts removed, because he's petty like that—but instead of staring at it like he has been for days—he finally calls. it wouldn't surprise him if you didn't answer, but he gnaws his lip as it rings, and it seems like he and his little girl both hold their breath.

"hello?"

when he hands off the phone to his daughter, she happily snatches it up, turning on her knees to look out the window as she grins. "hi bub!"

and touya still doesn't know what to say or how he'll fix it, but he finds some comfort—some of the words—when he hears the tone in your voice change, all sing-song and adoring. "hi, my angel!"

[redr0sewrites]

t. todoroki nsfw alphabet

💄A/n: gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.... happy bday baby <3

💄Cw: smut, dirty talk, hand kink, breeding kink, praise kink, intox kink, switch!touya

💄top dividers/lower dividers

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

kinda lazy, but not in a rude way? moreso he just wants to cuddle and be close to you and maybe smoke a cigarette. he has no interest in cleaning up immediately and often procrastinates such things until much later. doesn't mean he's strictly against aftercare, after a rough or tiring session he'll wipe you down and be sweet, but he would very much prefer to just relax. Touya's also a lot clingier and more open after sex i think, so he's definitely looking for reassurance

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on himself, i think he'd say his hands or his hair. he likes his hands because he really enjoys how much you like them, they're larger than most peoples and very precise. i also think he has a lot of stims and fidgets that involve his hands, and he flaps them a lot when he's excited or energized. Touya also thinks his hands look very pretty in comparison to yours, especially in size, and likes seeing them splayed over your chest or throat. he likes his hair because its a very prominent tie to his mother, (and the light color gives him lots of freedom to dye it.) when it comes to you, it takes him a while to decide, but i think he's an ass guy. he likes sleeping on it, likes slapping it, loves how it jiggles when you guys have sex

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

if you can cum in him, surprise !! he's now volunteering to be your personal cum dump. likes it in his ass or in his mouth, doesn't matter where, he gets really turned on by the thought of you claiming him. in all honesty its a bit of a breeding kink, but he's the one being bred. also enjoys when you swallow his cum, whether that be through you sucking him off or you licking it off his fingers. the only thing that bothers him a bit though is when it gets in his staples or scars, because it can cause infection and he does not want that.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

wants you to choke him. probably won't mention it until you're pretty far into the relationship, but he's a bit of a masochist and the thought of your pretty little hands around his neck makes him so horny. probably also has some sort of age gap kink (where he's the younger person) and maybe a mommy/daddy one too. overall he just wants to be pampered when he's subbing. his most sercret-y secret is that he hes a big fat intox kink and absolutely wants to fuck while you're high or under the influence. probably also has some sort of aphrodisiac kink too, and if you ever get your hands on some he's practically begging for some consensual dubcon aphrodisiac use or roleplay. idk i just think he'd be super into how mindless and horny it makes you both

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

has had 1-3 sexual partners since his time on the streets and throughout his early twenties, but he's not very experienced. incredibly inexperienced in the relationship aspect of things, so he's a little closed off during sex at first. he won't show much emotion, doesn't really know what he's into in terms of specific kinks, etc. it takes a while to bridge that gap with him, but once you do, the sex is a lot better. he is observant though, and a fast learner, so he picks up on your tells and what you like very quickly.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

i think his stamina is kind of low because of both his body strength and all the stress to his skin, so he prefers positions where he doesn't have to do much, such as when you ride him. in a longterm relationship, he really likes close positions for the intimacy, so he's a big fan of lotus and spooning as well. when he's up for it, he also likes doggy style, but always does it in front of a mirror so he can see your face.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

very serious in the moment. i think he'd be a little bit irritated if someone was trying to make light of the moment too much, especially if it's not a long term relationship and just a hookup. however, with a partner he really trusts, i can see him being much more relaxed and scoffing a bit when you tease him or joke around. it takes him a while to get comfortable though

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

even during his dabi era, his pubes are stark white and its incredibly attractive. he has a bit of a happy trail on his lower stomach and abs, but it's only prominent on his unscarred skin. the hair itself is relatively thick and a bit curly, and he keeps it trimmed but not shaved off entirely. its the perfect friction against your clit or cock when you ride him and nghhh im moaning. also think he'd prefer to have a partner with a bit of body hair, and he'll unironically ask to trim your pubes for you when you're in a relationship. he's a bit freaky about it tbh

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

takes him a while to become comfortable enough to be intimate during sex, he'd have to really like you and trust you (which he probably already does if he's in a relationship with you,) but even then it still takes time. however, once you're in a longterm relationship, he can be very intense and intimate. your so important to him, he thinks you deserve nothing less than perfection during sex and is very ,,, worshipful to you if that makes sense? whether he's domming or subbing he just. cares a lot. ALSO talks a lot during sex so he can be very intimate in speech and babbles a lot about how much he loves you and needs you when he's close to cumming

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

does it sparingly, especially in a relationship. why would he need to masturbate when you're around? when he does jack off though, he usually watches some sort of porn or looks at photos of you. sometimes he'll masturbate where he knows you'll catch him, just for the embarrassment (and either punishment or pampering) that will follow

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

oo theres a lot. hand kink, praise kink, age gap, aphrodisiac/intox, roleplay, pain/masochism, hair pulling, marking, minor mommy/daddy kink (he says it to u), choking, cum/being bred, minor voyeurism, ORAL FIXATION, WAX PLAY !!!

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

enjoys the bed or couch because its most comfortable for his body, but also likes having sex in medium-ish risky places such as alleyways or storage closets and even a public restroom. it honestly depends a lot on what you like as well, and if you have a big preference for a certain location than he's certainly down to try. random but i also think he'd enjoy a hot tub too

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

everything about you. hands, body hair, your ass, the smell of your perfume/cologne... anything. also big on praise, i think that's a quick and easy way to get him flustered. being manhandled as well, i think he'd find it hot if you could just. move him. whether you're physically bigger than him or not, even something as simple as play fighting gets him going. i also think that he's really into sucking your fingers or giving you hickeys, it plays into his oral fixation

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

wouldn't want to engage in anything that could seriously hurt you, especially if you're not into it. while he's a masochist at heart, he's not really sadistic (when it comes to you) and would rather overstimulate you and have you crying from pleasure than pain. this isn't to say he isn't down for bdsm or anything you'd be into, but he would never want to accidentally hurt you. also NOT a fan of noncon, especially considering how his father treated his mother. it just disgusts him. for similar reasons, he's not big on breeding you/cumming inside if you can get pregnant without protection or birth control because he doesn't want any accidental pregnancies or something of the like, and only does so after many, many lengthy conversations about kids and clear consent on your end

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

its incredibly difficult to choose, because as much as he has an oral fixation and LOVES giving, for Touya nothing beats the sight of you on your knees looking up at him through your lashes with your pretty plush lips wrapped around his cock. its sooooooo hot to him. however, he does truly enjoy giving head, and what he lacks in experience he makes up for in enthusiasm. truly depends on which you prefer honestly

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends heavily on the mood. while i do think he has a penchant for going slow, both due to his body and wanting to take his time with you, i also i think that he can get very worked up and want nothing more than to just fuck you senseless. overall, i think he prefers slow and sensual (but still kinky) sex, as it allows him to prolongue his stamina, but he can go fast and rough (though he won't last as long.)

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

they're okay, but quickies aren't enough to satiate him. pulling him aside and giving him head before returning to the public is sexy, sure, but now he's all hot n bothered thinking about the inevitable longer session that will occur later. all this to say, he likes quickies, but prefers longer sessions

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

absolutely. loves risks, loves receiving pain, loves trying out any twisted or perverse kink you have on your mind. there are very few things he'll say no to, especially in terms of pleasing you

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Touya doesn't have great stamina, due to both his body/scars and past injuries, but he makes up for it by eating you out/giving you head or making you cum multiple times before he does. he often feels a bit bad about not having great stamina so please reassure him you don't mind :( the best you'll get is three rounds before he straight up collapses, but that's genuinely pushing his limits and usually results in a few busted staples and bleeding. just one round is the only way to guarantee not hurting him, but he always offers oral or fingering you or whatever else you're into if he doesn't think you're satisfied.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i'd say he's 50/50 on them. Touya didn't really know much about toys in the beginning outside of just a vibrator or dildo, and never used them. he likes them on occasion, and enjoys using them on you, but is a bit more hesitant about using them on himself. this changes after the first time you peg him though, and after that he's more open to exploration

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

looovessss teasing. you can't tell me he doesn't, he just adores seeing you squirm. also loves when you match his energy and fluster him in turn, it's just incredibly attractive to him. during sex itself, he tries his best to tease, but he's too impatient and down bad for you to last long

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Touya is not vocal in the beginning of a relationship but progressively gets more and more comfortable as time progresses. it starts off with just a few grunts and low whines, but over time he's whimpering and moaning unabashedly. he also babbles and talks a lot during sex, especially when he's close to cumming, so you'll hear a lot of pleadjng and rambling when his mind goes all fuzzy with pleasure...

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

cries when he cums, and the first time he does it freaks you out- but soon you get used to it. he WILL whimper and probably lose his mind if you lick up his bloody tears, i think he'd be super into that like the freak he is. he also has a huge oral fixation and loves sucking you off/eating you out, but on the wilder side he really likes sucking on your fingers and giving you hickeys. along w this, he's always chewing or sucking on something outside of a sexual setting as well.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

he's LONG, like i'm talking 9.5 inches at least. he's pretty lanky and built, and that transfers into his dick as well. he's longer than he is thick, with a pretty happy trail and an even prettier set of jacobs ladder piercings. his cock is also very expressive, with a twitchy, pink tip and a thicker base. his piercings are very sensitive as well, and are great stimulation for you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it fluctuates a lot. sometimes he's so horny that your both sleeping together every night for two weeks straight, other times he can go like a month without even masturbating. he's always down to accommodate you though, and if you have a lower or higher sex drive than him he's down to help at any time

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as quickly as possible, the second you both relax he's cuddling up beside yoh and out like a LIGHT. its one of the quickest ways to tire him out and let him get a full nights sleep, and he actually really enjoys finally getting to relax. i also think he's very cuddly and soft when he's fucked out and sleepy, so you get to see a much gentler side of him than usual <333

AUGHHHHH HES SOOOO !!! MY MAN MY MAN MY MANANNNSSNDDBDFBFJFJFNF HED SO FINE. if anyone sees any hcs on here they want me to elaborate on.... PLS LMK BC I SOO WILL

[rueclfer]

get a taste // tomura shigaraki

a/n: in the gc talking abt vape and cig discourse between dabi n shigs -> fujos out a bit -> wait this is kinda hot -> sick n twisted brainrot aaaahhh

you reach over and press your index finger right in between his eyebrows.

there's nearly nothing that could melt that scowl from tomura's face- especially when everyone's behind him obnoxiously crowded around the bar with playing cards and drinks in hand, the music's a bit too loud for his liking, and he's having a hard time focusing.

"tomura, i can't take you seriously with that thing attached to your mouth like a fucking binky." you call over the music, dropping your hand back into your lap.

his eyes slowly travel up from his phone screen to meet yours. you weren't even sure if he caught anything you said over the blaring music, but you could still read the irritation in his face. his gaze flickers back and forth between the clash of clans running on his phone and you.

he blinks once. twice.

tomura drops the vape from his mouth, letting it fall into his lap, and without missing a beat, blows the intoxicatingly sweet smoke into your face, engulfing you whole with a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips.

"better than whatever the fuck you're smoking over there, right?" he nods towards the half smoked cigarette in between your fingers that you stole from touya's pack.

"better?" you roll your eyes, waving away the lingering smoke. "grow up, tomu. you're smoking birthday cake flavored nicotine. you haven't even smoked a cigarette before."

"i don't need to smoke it to know it tastes like shit." he stretches his legs over your lap, leaning back against the armrest of the couch.

you turn your hand around, facing the orange filter of the cigarette towards him. with your eyebrow slightly cocked and mouth parted into a smirk, tomura knew it was less of an invitation, but rather a dare. a challenge.

"go ahead, babe. give it a try if you're not a bitch."

tomura wets his lips with his tongue. his gaze drops down to the lipstick stained orange filter hanging from between your fingers. he wonders if he could taste your chapstick residue on it, or what your skin smells like brushed against his nose.

would you put your lips on it right after his drag? willingly taste him?

he silently cursed himself.

"pass." he scoffs, turning his head to the side, unsure if the heat crawling up his neck had taken form in a flush. 

he was halfway surprised that you hadn't noticed his piercing stare every time your lips wrapped around the cigarette for a drag. he swore the desperate look in his eyes was so obvious- a silent wish that it was him between your lips instead.

you press your lips together in a line as you take another glance around the room. everyone seemed occupied. drunk. sloppy. no one's paying attention.

you lean forward, catching his face in your free hand, and forcing him to look up towards you.

"the fuck-" he starts.

"don't freak out, tomu." you interrupt. "you know what to do."

you hum to yourself as you bring your fingers up to your lips, deeply inhaling the bitter tang of burnt tobacco.

your eyes remained locked onto tomura's. he's looking at you in a sickly satisfying horror with his eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and mouth slightly gaped open from your firm grasp on his jaw.

he squirms a bit under your grasp, but tomura doesn’t look away from you- he doesn't dare to. not with you over him like this and your face only inching closer to his.

you pull yourself down over him, mere millimeters away from connecting your lips.

the smoke slowly wisp out of your mouth and into his- a slow acceptance before both of your eyes flutter shut and you empty your lungs into his. 

you feel his hands climb up the side of your thighs and rest on your hips, lightly squeezing you through the fabric of your pants.

"fuck." he mutters, trails of smoke escaping his mouth.

"yummy?" you chuckle, exhaling any remnants of smoke in your lungs.

it doesn't seem like you care or noticed at all, but all tomura could think about was you straddling him on the couch and your warm thighs hugging his torso.

he felt hot all over, his lungs were burning, there's a bitter taste in the back of his throat, his head feels light, and despite it all, he wanted more.

"do you, um, wanna taste mine?"

-

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

older brother touya au, quirk training is mentioned but no quirk mentioned for reader, abusive todoroki household, endeavous is a piece of shit, angst, kinda rough hyper fem reader (you push shouto at one point), lmk if i missed sum else !!

shouto, lately, has been showing up to school with bandages on his arms. and touya knows others find that weird.

for a while now, their father’s training had been more grueling than ever. touya recognizes it in the sounds of screaming and pillars breaking and the coughing of his younger brother as he holds back a sob. not like you could hear it over the sound of enji todoroki’s booming voice yelling at him to get up anyways.

touya recognizes himself from before he was deemed a failure. he recognizes the coughs and wheezes but he thinks his were slightly different from shouto. his tiredness left him sore and unresponsive, complaining about muscular pains that touya never complained about himself. maybe because he ignored them until they were too painful to bear, all to please his father. to be his perfect creation.

but he isn’t, shouto is. and the boy doesn’t like it one bit.

his little brother comes to him most nights sniffling, clinging to him and pleading for touya to let him stay the night in his room. and he always says yes, of course he will, cus he’s his little brother. who’s just a little weird, but who he cares about deeply.

shouto sniffles about how he doesn’t like training with father, how he wishes he could spend time with his older siblings again instead. touya’s eyebrows furrow and he squeezes his brother harder. because he doesn’t like it either.

“if dad ever pisses you off, you can come to me, yeah ? i’ll be there.” shouto chastises him for swearing as he calls it, but touya doesn’t care, cus it made his little brother giggle a little even though he barely does. and it makes him chuckle too.

he remembers what training with his dad felt like when he still had potential. he remembers it was kind of like a father son experience. his dad would look at him proudly when he managed to pull off a new move, praising him in the only way he knew how to and encouraging him to keep aiming higher, to make his fire burn stronger. that he’d even surpass him.

but then the burning started to hurt. then the training started happening less often, and when it did it more desperate than anything. nothing was ever good, he had to keep pushing, keep burning. harder, stronger and faster. because he needed to surpass him.

it didn’t feel like a father son anything after that, it wasn’t fun and his body hurt. but the sudden change in demeanor was jarring, he remembers. it hurts to remember how his father had gone from this to simply just..giving up on him. but he thinks it must be horrible for shouto to immediately go through the tyrant that is endeavor at such a young age, rather than at least liking it at first like touya had.

of course he wouldn’t like it, touya doesn’t like it either.

“sho, i think we should get married.”

shouto’s laying on the grass with you when you suddenly speak to him. his eyes widen just a bit and when he turns his head to question you, you’re smiling like the sun. he likes that about you.

“why ?”

you jump up, leaning over him a bit, everything else is blocked out but you, shouto thinks he prefers it that way.

“cuuuuuz,” you sing “it’d be fun, right ?”

“to get married ?” you nod. shouto blinks at you. and when he keeps looking you shyly look away.

he figures you’re somewhat right, though. in the movies he watches with fuyumi, people seem to have a lot of fun during weddings, they seem happy. shouto wants to be happy with you, as simple as that, so he responds with the first thing that comes to mind.

“okay.”

and if he thought you were the sun before, he’s proven wrong immediately because the smile you send him blinds him. he hopes you’ll smile like that again every single day, it’d make him happy. you squeal and pull him up to you to squeeze him tight, the sudden move hurts a bit, but he doesn’t mind. it doesn’t hurt like his father does and it’s you, so he doesn’t mind and let’s you squeeze him to your hearts content.

“we’re engaged now, then !” you tell him, “so that means your my fiancé. when we’re grown ups, i’ll ask you again, okay ?” you ask giddily, you stand up because you can’t stand still anymore and you pull him along with you. shouto readjusts your fingers so he’s holding onto your pinky (he likes it that way) and he nods. “okay,” he answers again.

natsu-nii told him that he should speak more once, because people think that one word answers are rude sometimes. but he doesn’t like talking to people, and he doesn’t care if they think he’s rude and you get so happy when he speaks to you. you’re the only person he wants to talk to and you’re happy, so why should that bother him ?

shouto can’t wait until he’s a grown up. he’s sure when he’s a grown up, he won’t have to listen to his dad all the time, he’ll be stronger and will be able to fight back. but now, he can’t wait to be a grown up so you can get married for real.

apparently, shouto’s getting pulled out of school.

he hears touya angrily talking with his nanny about him. they can’t see him from where he's hiding behind the door. shouto can't remember a time where his older brother had sounded so mad, not even when he gets mad at him for being a brat. touya always seemed the angriest when their father was involved.

he keeps swearing, calling something bullshit. but shouto realises that if he gets pulled out of school, he won't be seeing you anymore.

so, just to be sure. when training is over and his father has ordered him to patch himself up, he asks.

"are you going to pull me out of school ?"

shouto holds back a flinch when his father stops in his tracks and turns to look at him slightly. all he responds with is "who told you ?" shouto only shrugs. enji stays quiet before finally responding.

"it's what's best for you. you are meant to surpass me."

shouto doesn't like talking to his father, it makes him nervous. he misses when his mom was here to comfort him, to tell him it was okay to be scared sometimes. shouto picks at his bandages, his mom had told him to stop one time, because it makes them come loose. but he's nervous.

"but..i have to got to school.." he utters quietly, he clenches his fist to keep it from shaking. "i'll get you a teacher." his father responds easily, he doesn't understand. shouto bites his lip.

"but..my friend at school.." shouto keeps his eyes to the floor, he knows his father is looking down at him and he doesn't want to look back. "yn..will wanna know where i am..'cus she wants to get married.."

enji todoroki huffs loudly, grumbling to himself. "what do you know about marriage.." he scoffs, and he keeps it at that. walking off and before he slides the door shut, he reminds shouto to patch himself up.

shouto doesn't jump when the door slams. and now that he thinks about it he doesn't know much about marriage.

"i don't think we should get married anymore."

you're usually always talking, shouto likes that about you. but now you just blink at him.

"..what ?"

you're always smiling at him, shouto likes that about you. but now you're frowning at him.

shouto swallows, it feels hard to "i don't want to get married anymore."

you're frowning at him, it's hard to swallow. you like sitting on the swings with him, and shouto likes that you taught him to go on it by himself, but he thinks he's ruined it for you now.

"why not ?"

you sound sad, shouto doesn't like it. he wants you to be happy all the time. but he won't be able to go to school soon, he won't see you anymore. and that'd make you even more sad. he doesn't know what else to do.

shouto can't bring himself to respond because he doesn't have a reason. he wants to be with you, he wants to hold your pinky and he wants to marry you. he wants you to smile at him so hard it blinds him. but he doesn't know anything about marriage. besides what he's seen on tv and from his own mom and dad. and his mom doesn't live at home anymore, because his dad had sent her away. when you get married you have fun and you're happy but his mom never was. you're always happy and he doesn't want you to be sad like his mom was, because you're the nicest person in the world.

so he just shrugs. natsu-nii had told him that people would find that rude once, and he thinks maybe he should've listened. you abruptly get up and stand in front of him. he looks up at you and wishes he'd never had because you look so sad. you want him to think you're angry, but he can tell with you.

"so you lied to me ?"

he wants to say no, because he doesn't mean it. but in your mind he probably did, he looks away. he can't look at you anymore because your lip is wobbling like you want to cry. angrily, you push at his shoulder, shouto trains with his father almost every day, he has the bandages under his sweater to prove it. but this hurts so much more.

"i hate liars !" you yell at him, shouto's never heard you yell besides that one time you'd punched tanaka in the face and ended up at the nurses office. you push him again and your voice is wobbly when you tell him you hate him before you run away. you're leaving without him. shouto can't move from where he's still slightly swinging on the swing. he doesn't like it anymore, but he can't go anywhere, because you're not holding onto his pinky and he can't readjust it to hold yours better.

shouto feels colder suddenly now that you're away, but he can't move as he grips the bars of the swing tighter and his lip wobbles.

touya, for the first time in a while, sees his brother come back home completely clean. and extremely sad.

i didn't want to end this part so sadly but i couldn't help myself yall im sorry, i hope yall still love me !!!

[with-my-calamitous-love]

OCEAN BLUE EYES / I FEEL LIKE I MIGHT SINK AND DROWN AND DIE ༄

ua! touya todoroki x ua! reader headcanons <3

inspired by gorgeous

- villain touya is a ruthless, cold-hearted maniac. ua, hero-in-training touya is just a prick.

- he’s the kind of student that skips class religiously, but somehow gets amazing grades. he’ll give attitude to anything with legs, including you, but somehow pass every test. he’s also unreasonably competitive, joining about every sports he can make the time for.

- becoming friends with him was inevitable, giving his magnetic field being just a little too strong. at first, he should have taken it as a compliment the way you’d talk to everyone in the room but him. he’s unreasonably gorgeous without even knowing it.

- he’s an asshole, but he’s also funny. he’s the kind of guy that just knows what to say, so fucking cool it makes you hate him so fucking much. he has you feeling like a dumb high school student with a dumb high school crush. because you are.

- little do you know, that feeling is mutual. you’re ruining his life by not being his.

- on the outside, he’s smart, strong, and a great student. on the inside, he’s still got those same battles you’d come to know him for.

- he’s in ua, yes. he’s becoming a hero, yes. but he still wonders if it’ll measure up to what his father wants. sometimes he wonders if he’s doing it for himself, or for the bastard back at home. and though half the reason he’s in ua is to rebel against and piss off his father, he also wonders if he can at least be acknowledged by him.

- during training, he’s thinking about his worth. in class, he’s thinking about who he is. every waking moment spent at school, at home, or alone, he’s terrified of being nothing more than a failure.

- the only time he doesn’t feel like that is with you. which is why he’s so furious when he can’t say anything to your face. how dare you make him feel this way?

- he does the unthinkable, and goes to his mom for advice.

- “touya, you obviously like them.”

- “SHUT THE FUCK UP! sorry, love you.”

- its then you learn more about who he is, beyond just who he’s trying to be. you learn he loves winter, and tries to catch snowflakes on his tongue like a little kid. you learn his favourite meal is soba, and how you learn to make it how he likes it. you learn that he’s an oldest child, and as much as he insists his siblings are pains in his ass, he’ll help natsuo with his math homework, walk fuyumi home from school, and tuck shoto into bed.

- you teach him its okay to just be who he is now. that sometimes, just being happy is the sweetest vengeance against someone who hurt you.

- so you help him pick out his hero name, design his costume and fuel his dreams. he learns that he can be a hero for him. fuck everyone else, as he would say. except you.

- touya becomes your best friend, your ride or die. its this beautiful, parallel universe, one where its possible to save him. one where the light in his soul is nurtured and seen, and one where he’s happy.

- touya todorki is touya todoroki. in every universe, he’ll burn down anyone that gets in his path, whether thats being a villain or a hero. but he’s sure that in every one, you’re there waiting for him.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

huge thank you to @sukunaes for helping me with this! i published this a while ago, but for some reason tumblr hid it 💔 but i’ve gotten to rewrite and add some more thoughts! i also have more ua touya stuff in my drafts 🫧❄️🪽🤍🐚🎧