🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇🐇

DOA !

feat: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, touya todoroki, keigo takami, tomura shigaraki

warnings / cache notes: quirkless au for izuku's, other than that all are canon timeline! one sided pining, miscommunication, mentions of death / dying, alcohol consumption, all around angst (what else did u expect... it's me and it's fall out boy. whoops.) jjk version here!

m.list // fob m.list

CHICAGO IS SO TWO YEARS AGO - IZUKU MIDORIYA — She took me down and said / "Boys like you are overrated, so save your breath" / Loaded words and loaded friends / Are loaded guns to our heads / 'Cause every pane of glass that your pebbles tap / Negates the pains I went through to avoid you / And every little pat on the shoulder for attention / Fails to mention I still hate you

izuku was a nice guy. maybe a bit too nice-- it always confused you. because all through high school he was the sweetest thing-- blushing, stuttering, a little ditzy sometimes and a new level of awkward that you weren't sure was even possible-- but the guy currently tossing pebbles at your window? how is he the same guy that literally almost passed out when you bumped into his shoulder in the 9th grade? this had been happening for weeks. the curly haired boy would show up at the home you rented with another friend of yours and toss little pebbles from the garden in front of your house against your window. and when you finally did open the window, the conversation would dry out a little too quickly for his liking, and you'd dismiss him in that fake sweet tone of yours. izuku doesn't know why he's chasing after you. he knows you were never interested in him more than a silly little high school crush. you both were well in your twenties by now, him with an office job and you with your teaching job. you two reached out a year or so after graduation and caught up, making izuku realize that he had shoved some intense feelings to the back of his psyche, and you were doing great with your newly rewarded promotion at your job. why was he still clinging to this one sided pining? it should've shifted to the next stage by now-- he should atleast dislike you, hate you even. even if you never get to hear the confession he's been rehearsing since that first lunch together months ago, even if you continue to deny him a chance of even hearing him out-- he should hate you. a lot. and yet he doesn't. because at his heart, izuku was a nice guy. too nice.

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN (ATAVAN HALEN) - KATSUKI BAKUGOU — I keep telling myself / I keep telling myself / I'm not the desperate type / Sitting out dances on the wall / Trying to forget everything that isn't you / I'm not going home alone / 'Cause I don't do too well on my own

one thing you learned about katsuki was that he was an honest drunk. a brash and shameless honest drunk, but still honest. you don't always go out for drinks with him and the crew-- you don't care too much for the bar scene and you can never keep up with the boys (denki and kirishima always peer pressure you) but sometimes you tag along and you manage to have a good time. tonight, the number of people still awake has dwindled down drastically. sero was slumped forward against the table, denki was asleep leaning with his back against the wall with kirishima also asleep on his shoulder. only you and katsuki were awake. awake is put loosely, since the blonde keeps blinking slowly at you, rocking just the slightest bit where he sits and leaning into his arm propped up on the table. you've mirrored his position, only half as drunk as he was-- your eyes are lazily tracing the scars along his face and exposed skin of his arms. you don't even know what you two were talking about. at this point, you were sure you were mumbling nonsense, but it didn't matter. katsuki watched you like you were the most interesting thing in existence, drunken starry eyes idly tracked your every move. his cheeks were a nice rosy color-- either from the alcohol or how you were very obviously and shamelessly checking him out right in front of him. "'m gonna go home soon," you slur your words, your free hand traces the circle of condensation that your glass leaves when you move it. katsuki watches your finger for just a moment too long before his eyes snap up to yours. "don't," he mumbles, but you hear him just fine. like your ears have a specific tuning for his particular timbre. you lean in the slightest bit and pretend to not hear how katsuki's breath hitches. "have patrol tomorrow," you manage to get out while you hold his gaze. drunk katsuki also pouts. "don't leave me," if you were sober, you would've been shocked at how sincere and tender his voice sounded. "please?" you rarely ever hear him use that word. "'suki-" the alcohol doesn't allow you to say his full name, but he latches onto the portion that he hears and scoots the slightest bit closer towards you. in this intimate distance, you can see the glaze in his eyes, a carnelian warmth the spreads to your cheeks and down your spine. for once in your life you can see the vulnerablility clear in his eyes. katsuki is not a desperate guy, atleast when he's sober. you can hear the clear want in his voice when he speaks again, inching closer to close the distance, his nose bumping gently into yours. "don't make me go home alone." katsuki is a very honest drunk.

BISHOPS KNIFE TRICK - TOUYA TODOROKI — These are the last blues we're ever gonna have / Let's see how deep we get / The glow of the cities below lead us back / To the places that we never should have left / The last blues we're ever gonna have / Let's see how deep we'll get / The glow of the cities below lead us back / To the places that we never should have left

"wish we could've spent my last night alive alone," touya mutters as he leans back onto open palms, the concrete a numb chill against his skin. his eyes are focused forward, and so are yours. you don't pay any mind to the security guard who is standing just a little ways off to the side, gun drawn but ready to aim at the man next to you at a moments notice. you know there's no need for the weapon, but to them-- the commission, the public; the whole country-- they need it. they are the ones who don't trust him. you only hum in response, curling more into the warmth of his side and continue to watch the sky as it changed colors. you've given yourself to touya years ago. complete devotion, unwavering love-- support while he recovered after the war and help during his time in rehab. you've given him so much, only for it all to be ripped apart and scrubbed clean with a single piece of paper. if he were the protagonist of this story, he would've gotten a happy ending. he would've been able to complete his time in rehab and come out a different man, one who was willing to love his family and be able to live a normal life with the love he claimed for himself. but touya todoroki was not the protagonist. he was the villain, a villain who caused immeasurable damage and caused chaos and pain-- and villains always get bad endings. you had hoped that touya's good behavior would've been rewarded. every time you were granted visitation time he promised you he would give you the life he always wanted to give you-- he would give you that and more. he hadn't always been the best at giving, but rehab was making it possible for him. touya's good behavior was rewarded with an execution date. a measly two simple lines for any last requests-- (it was the only time he was sent to solitary, he bitched up a storm about making sure he got what he wrote on that paper) and a list with boxes for him to check which meal he would like to have before he died. and he gave you what he had always wanted to give you in one day. all of him, his soul, mind-- he couldn't give you his body since that would be taken by his family to be buried unfortunately, but they would never get his last thoughts or memories from him. those were yours. those were always you. you gave yourself to touya years ago. in return, he gave you his last day alive.

SOPHOMORE SLUMP OR COMEBACK OF THE YEAR - KEIGO TAKAMI — 'Cause I'll keep singing this lie / I'll keep singing this lie / Are we growing up or just going down? / It's just a matter of time until we're all found out / Take our tears and put them on ice / 'Cause I swear I'd burn this city down to show you the light

late. again. to be fair, keigo don't do it on purpose. he's a busy man, things slip from his mind. and yes, it's shitty that he forgets about certain things when it pertains to you-- but you knew what you were signing up for when the two of you started dating. you knew what was going to happen when he rose through the rankings and gained the number three spot so early, and then got to number two all of a sudden. you knew that. there's a harsh mix of emotions swirling in your gut. the straw in your drink has been chewed to the point where you could no longer drink out of it. the leather material you've been sitting on for the past forty-five minutes has grown uncomfortably warm. keigo, no-- hawks-- had gotten too cozy with telling you little white lies. you know him too well to see right through the mask he puts on to 'protect' you, the act-- as you would call it-- and you were wondering what was going to be your last straw. sitting here, by yourself at the cafe you met him at-- waiting for him. it was supposed to be a lunch date, he promised you he'd make it there even though you knew it was a lie. you knew it was a lie and you're still sitting in the same spot, and still waiting. you've already wasted enough time waiting for him, why not just a couple more pathetic minutes wiping away tears? why not waste just a few more moments wishing you would've grown up before meeting him? because if you had, you would not have made such a good home for yourself at rock bottom.

27 - TOMURA SHIGARAKI — Are all the good times getting gone? / They come and go and come and go and come and go / I've got a lot of friends who are stars / But some are just black holes / My mind is a safe / And if I keep it then we all get rich / My body is an orphanage / We take everyone in

when tomura spaces out, everyone just doesn't mention it. especially as of late, he's been zoning out and barely there-- at the league's bar more often than not with a glass of whiskey that he does not take a drink out of. he leaves it out on the bar most of the time and doesn't clean it-- kurogiri cleans up after him. like always. it's been rough since you left. the group struggled heavily; even if some didn't want to admit it. it's been taking twice longer than normal to perk up in the mornings when it was usually you who got him up with the coffee he likes, toga is more quiet than usual, and dabi doesn't buy cigarettes as often as he used to due to not having to share them with you. re-destro hasn't been reaching out as often. it's not like tomura minds it-- he's been wanting the space. and most meetings have been going the same; tomura shows up, usually with another member of the league-- and leaves with no progress on either end. it's not until tomura shows up with compress one day that re-destro snaps. going off about how something needed to change, something needed to happen-- he was fed up with how slow tomura had been acting the past few months. tomura and compress listened silently, almost like children getting scolded for having their hand in the cookie jar until your name is brought up. compress felt like he was watching in slow motion as tomura tensed, rising to his feet with a finger pointed scathingly towards the ginger. tomura's eyes flashed something dangerous-- something deadly. he looked like he was about five seconds from jumping the table and grabbing re-destro by the throat. compress reached a hand out to the fabric of tomura's pants-- but tomura was seething. "keep their name out of your mouth." tomura jerked away from compress' touch. he took the first few short steps before pausing again, his eyes still keenly trained on the man in front of him. "don't ever," his voice was practically spitting venom, "talk about them again. your mouth is nowhere near worthy enough to speak it." tomura's eyes were wild-- bright and on alert. like a feral animal being caged against it's will, choosing to fight instead of flee. this time, he was choosing to fight. whenever it came to you, he always backed down. ran from the situation that was bluntly put in front of him. denied it through and through until he couldn't lift his head from lack of sleep or drinking too much. the entire time he blamed you. the black hole of the group. sucking all the motivation and spirit the second you left. no, you were just a planet stuck in orbit; finally breaking free. tomura was the black hole.

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

okokokokok so i immediately brainrotted after seeing the tags on @rueclfer 's post and honestly, why not have some self indulgent dad!keigo???? bye this was AUGH.

since your daughter was a year and a half old, she's been babbling nonstop. just like her father. she constantly talks, and keigo encourages it-- unfortunately. most nights it takes over an hour for her to go to bed because she wants to debrief to her dad about the day she's had, and then ask about his-- even if she doesn't listen to it.

by four years old, she was able to hold a steady gossip session with keigo every night.

korra is currently weaving inbetween the two of you while you make a joint effort to make dinner-- keigo had already told her twice to go back in the living room with her toys and whatever movie was on the television; but she was keen on staying right inbetween the both of you. you can hear his teeth grit before the third "korra." leaves his mouth.

your daughter is standing in front of the fridge, her blonde curls pulled into pigtails that have since been mussed from a day of play and naps. she's holding her duck plushie that keigo gifted her weeks ago tight against her body, chewing on a random plastic toy of hers-- she's in the way and she knows it, with the way she stares up at her father when he reaches for the handle.

"korra, baby, you need to move," keigo tries to be gentle, but it's clear he's starting to loose his paitence.

there's a brief silence, and then your daughter points to a random sticky note on the fridge and says, "keigo."

her pronunciation is way off. 'key-go' is what came out, but it's clear she tried purely based off reading what was in front of her. she looks proud of herself-- a wide toothy grin on her expression that contrasts heavily with keigo's frozen stature.

you're not sure what he's thinking. his hand is loose on the fridge handle, and you swore some of the color drained from his face.

"korra, give daddy a minute, yeah? let mommy get you a snack and watch the movie?"

keigo's hand releases from the handle and jolts like your voice pressed a reset button to his whole system. he watches you lead your daughter from the kitchen, but it's impossible to miss to confusion and concern laced in your gaze and expression as you round the corner, your eyes trained on him until you leave.

keigo's not against his real name as much anymore. sure, to the public he's still hawks, and he's the president of the commission and a war hero and all that-- but to you; he's your husband, the love of your life, the missing puzzle piece, your favorite piece of work-- keigo.

that's a name reserved only for you. a name he's had to get used to hearing again, and had to learn to like. and he loves the way you say his name. so sweetly, sometimes scolding-- when the two of you banter with each other-- (when you moan it) but it took him a while to come back around to it.

when you return back to the kitchen after getting korra situated, keigo sighs at the gentle touch of your hand against the small of his back. "'m sorry," he mumbles almost immediately.

"for what?"

"reacting like that," keigo sets the utensil in his hand down and places both of his hands palm down on the counter. he bows his head a little and chews on the inside of his lip before continuing. "i'm not upset with her."

"i didn't think you were," you respond hesitantly, rubbing soothing circles against his spine over the fabric of his shirt. after a couple beats of silence, you speak up again. "what're you thinkin'?"

keigo sighs again, but he's not tense as he was before. loose, relaxed-- comfortable. he picks up the knife he was using earlier and continues to chop the vegetables as he was. "i'm okay with it. key-go. eventually she'll learn to say it right."

the corner of your mouth lifts a bit. "and if she doesn't?" your voice is light, teasing.

"guess i'll be key-go along with keigo," he shrugs after the words leave his mouth, feigning nonchalance, but you can tell its genuine. he's okay with it.

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

Slapping kink go brrrr

Southern Reach rabbits going through the barrier 🐇

Pages Left to Fill 💕⋆｡°✩ Shoto Todoroki

Masterlist ୨ৎ

It's Shoto's first Valentine's with you, and he's determined to get you the 'correct' gift.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒

Glitter 𐔌 𐦯 : Happy Valentines !!!

Warnings :Female!Reader, reader is a GF, established relationship, slight suggestiveness, big texting section, honestly just really fluffy

W/C : ~3.2k

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

Sometimes, Shoto can be a little socially inept. 

He knows this. He knows it stems from his isolated upbringing, his complicated family dynamic—though he hates how often he has to attribute parts of himself to that.  But being at UA helped, being surrounded by more ‘normal’ people (if you could say that?) was helping. He’s learning, slowly but surely, and he finds himself enjoying all these new experiences, even if he’s a little late to them.

Enter you. 

You’ve only been dating him for a few weeks, barely enough time for him to grasp the basics of being someone’s boyfriend. But he wants to get it right, especially with Valentine’s Day just three days away.

He never thought much of it before. It was just another date on the calendar, something he associated more with pink-themed store displays than anything meaningful. But now, it feels important. A chance to prove himself to you, to show that this relationship is worth your time. That he doesn’t need you to guide him through everything.

Now it’s a day where he’s supposed to do something special for you.

For the first time in a long time, Shoto Todoroki feels out of his depth. 

He has no idea where to start.

Unfortunately, none of his friends seem like they’d have good advice. The only one who crossed his mind for a second was Denki, but that idea was immediately discarded. He could already imagine the kind of advice he’d get, some overly complicated plan involving sunglasses and, for some reason, an unnecessary explosion.

Which brings him to now, Tuesday morning, staring at Natsuo’s contact.

He’s pretty sure Natsuo has a girlfriend, or at least some experience in romantic endeavors. In their limited interactions, Shoto has picked up on a few subtle signs. There were the late-night phone calls he’d catch Natsuo having in the garden, the way his older brother’s face would turn bright red when he thought no one was watching. Then there was the time he overheard Natsuo asking Fujumi for advice on gifts around Christmas—specifically romantic gifts. And, of course, there was that one unfortunate day when Shoto happened to notice a collection of what he could only describe as… love marks on Natsuo’s neck, which left him quietly questioning his brother's life choices for the rest of the week.

So, with all this information he has gathered, Shoto decides Natsuo is the best course of action. He did briefly consider asking Fujumi for advice, but something told him she’d get far too excited and blow everything out of proportion. She’d probably give him a long lecture too. He doesn’t want that. He just needs a little guidance. 

The phone rings once, and then twice, and then he’s sent to voicemail. Shoto pouts down at the screen. Before he can go to google as his second choice for help, a text comes through first. 

[9:03 AM] Natsuo: Sorry, man, I’m in class right now. What’s up?

This feels strange, asking for relationship advice. He’s not used to talking about this kind of thing, especially with his brother. After a few seconds, he types:

[9:04 AM] Shoto: I need help with Valentines day.

The reply comes quickly:

[9:06 AM] Natsuo: Valentine’s Day?

[9:08 AM] Natsuo: Wait... are you dating someone? Since when??

Oh, he forgot that he hadn’t told his family yet. He wasn’t planning on telling anyone until things felt a little more serious. But I guess asking these sort of questions made it somewhat inevitable. 

[9:10 AM] Shoto: Yeah. I have a girlfriend. We have only been dating for 3 weeks. 

[9:11 AM] Shoto: Please don’t tell anyone yet.

[9:13 AM] Natsuo: Alright, alright, I won’t say anything. I get it. 

For some reason, in this moment, Shoto feels his heart warm a little. He’s never really had the true brotherly relationship. But this feels normal for them, domestic.

[9:15 AM] Shoto: Thanks.

[9:17 AM] Natsuo: Haha! So serious! Dont sweat it lil bro!

Nevermind, Shoto scowls, he hates his big brother. 

[9:19 AM] Shoto: Can you give me advice now. 

[9:21 AM] Natsuo: Ah, right, the actual reason you texted me.

[9:21 AM] Natsuo: Hmm. Try not to overdo it, since it’s still early. 

[9:21 AM] Natsuo: Maybe try something lowkey but personal? 

[9:22 AM] Natsuo: Don’t overthink it, dude. I’m sure at this early stage the fact you are even trying to do anything will be appreciated! 

[9:23 AM] Shoto: Can you give me an example? Just so I’m sure I’m on the same page.

[9:25 AM] Natsuo: Hm… okay. Like a handwritten card? Or a picture of you both? Sum like that. 

Shoto’s mind goes blank for a second.

[9:26 AM] Shoto: That seems too simple. 

[9:26 AM] Shoto: Have you ever been in a relationship? 

[9:28 AM] Natsuo: Going to pretend that wasn’t rude! 😒

Shoto’s brow furrows.

[9:28 AM] Natsuo: But yeah, I’ve been in a few. Trust me, the simple stuff always hits.

[9:30 AM] Shoto: I’ll try it. Thanks.

[9:31 AM] Natsuo: Anytime bro! One more think tho.

[9:32 AM] Natsuo: Since you're dating now... uh,  just don’t forget to be... responsible, okay?

Shoto frowns at the screen. [9:37 AM] Shoto: Responsible?

[9:39 AM] Natsuo: You know what i mean! Haha 

[9:41 AM] Shoto: No I do not. 

Natsuo’s reply comes quickly, almost too quickly.

[9:43 AM] Natsuo: Look, I’m just saying. Protection and all that. Haha

Shoto’s eyes widen, the full realization dawning on him. His face flushes red instantly.

[9:43 AM] Shoto: I do not need this advice. Thank you. 

Natsuo doesn’t stop there.

[9:45 AM] Natsuo: Hey, I’m just trying to help. You’re my little brother!!!

Shoto stares at the screen, blinking rapidly, his face still flushed.

[9:47 AM] Shoto: I appreciate it. But I’m fine.

[9:47 AM] Shoto: Maybe speak to your sexual endeavours about this. 

[9:50 AM] Natsuo: what???!??

[9:47 AM] Shoto: To stop biting you.

[9:52 AM] Natsuo: You know what, I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that.

Shoto quickly types, trying to change the subject before it gets any worse.

[9:54 AM] Shoto: Anyway, thanks for the other advice. I’ll try what you suggested.

So, something personal huh? 

~ 

Which brings Shoto to Thursday afternoon, the day before Valentine’s Day.

So far, he thinks he’s managed to keep his plans for you under wraps. Maybe a little too well—because just yesterday, during one of your usual study dates, you had paused mid-note-taking, tapped your pen against your lip, and tilted your head at him.

"You’ve been too quiet lately."

He had blinked at you, unsure how to respond. I’m always quiet wouldn’t exactly work when you already knew him well enough to see through him.

It was... cute, in a way. How easily you picked up on his shifts in mood, even when he thought he was being subtle. He didn’t really know what to do with that kind of attention. But he liked it.

He just hoped you didn’t suspect anything yet.

Anyway, today for mission valentine, he is in the mall.

He ended up taking Natsuos advice somewhat, taking the time to write a detailed and heartfelt card with his feelings to you, but something was still missing. He knew to get flowers, ordering a custom bunch on Tuesday night to be delivered in time (Thank you Endeavour name drop), but despite Natsuos advice to keep it ‘lowkey’ he was on the lookout for a little more.

He’d been wandering around the mall for the last twenty minutes now, his frown growing more pronounced with time. How do I put this feeling into words? How do I show her how important she is to me? How long I’ve waited for this…

He stops in front of a tourist stand. Surely, a trip is too much…

“Shoto???”

His head snaps up at the familiar voice, crinkling the leaflet in his hand as he turns. But the flash of green quickly eases his heart.

Midoriya.

Shoto exhales, releasing tension as his friend approaches, eyes bright with curiosity.

“I thought that was you!” Midoriya says, stopping beside him. His gaze drops to the crumpled leaflet in Shoto’s hand, curiosity flickering across his face. “Uh… are you planning a trip?”

Shoto follows Midoriya’s gaze down to the brochure in his grip—some kind of couples' getaway package, complete with scenic resorts and heart-shaped chocolates. His expression remains neutral, but internally, he’s horrified.

“No.” He drops it back onto the stand like it burned him.

Midoriya blinks before smiling. “Oh! Are you here for Valentine’s Day shopping?”

Shoto doesn’t answer immediately, which is answer enough.

Midoriya’s eyes widen. “Wait… you are?! Does that mean—do you have a girlfriend?”

Shoto feels a strange mix of emotions—mild regret for being spotted, slight panic at the idea of the entire class finding out before he’s ready, and, underneath it all, a small, hesitant sense of pride. Because yes. Yes, he does.

“…Yes,” he admits at last.

Midoriya gasps, practically vibrating in place. “Shoto! That’s amazing! Who is it? How did I not realize?! I mean, I thought you were smiling at your phone more, but—”

Shoto feels his face heat up as Midoriya rattles off every small detail he had apparently noticed. The way he texted more. The way he seemed lighter. The way he—

“—just kind of smile at nothing sometimes?” Midoriya gestures vaguely.

Shoto presses his lips together. Was it really that obvious?

Midoriya suddenly gasps again, eyes practically glowing. “Wait, does that mean this is your first Valentine’s Day with her?! That’s so special, Shoto!”

Shoto exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yes. That’s why I’m here.”

Midoriya’s enthusiasm doesn’t waver. “Okay, okay, no pressure! But what’s your plan? Do you need help picking something?”

Shoto hesitates. He doesn’t mind Midoriya knowing—he’s probably the safest person to tell, outside of Natsuo. But still, something about sharing this part of his life makes his throat feel tight.

“…I have a card,” he says slowly. “And flowers. But I wanted something more personal.”

Midoriya hums in thought. “Something personal… Oh! What about an experience? Like a day out or something—maybe not a whole trip though...”

Shoto pauses. His mind flickers back to a few weeks ago—how your eyes had lit up when you talked about that one artist. The way you always played their music during study dates, humming absentmindedly, completely lost in the moment. He remembers the song playing in the background as you gently traced your fingers along his face, both of you hesitating, then leaning in for a soft, tentative first kiss. The way you had giggled afterward, your smile so warm it made his chest ache.

“…I know what to get,” he says, turning on his heel.

Midoriya blinks. “Oh! Okay! Do you want me to come with—”

“No.”

Midoriya chuckles. “Alright, alright! Good luck, Shoto! And, um, if you ever wanna talk about—” He gestures vaguely, expression warm. “You know. Relationships. I’m happy to listen.”

Shoto gives him a nod—one that, after a moment, carries a little more meaning than just goodbye. 

~

Friday morning, Valentine's day. He had woken up to a good morning text from you, and motivation messages from both Natsuo and Midorya. And suddenly he was nervous in a whole different way. 

It wasn’t like him to be uncertain. But there was something about today, about this. Every time you looked his way, his chest tightened. His fingers would flex in his lap, as if he could do something with that energy.

The problem was, he couldn’t seem to get a moment alone with you. The entire class was buzzing, and as the day went on, his nerves grew. How was he supposed to give you the gift without feeling awkward? He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to give a present to someone he cared about. What if it wasn’t enough? What if it wasn’t right?

But then, at lunch, the bell rang, and that was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. The class broke apart, but his eyes found you instantly.

He took a breath, gathered his thoughts, and stood. You hadn’t noticed yet, so he took the opportunity to walk over to where you were standing.

“Hey,” he said quietly, and when you turned to him, there was that familiar warmth in your gaze that made his heart beat a little faster.

“Hey,” you replied, the smile tugging at your lips.

“I…” He hesitated, feeling a sudden tightness in his chest. It felt strange to be so out of his element. “I have something for you.”

“Really?”, your eyes widened for just a moment, the surprise softening into something warmer.

He looked at the ground for a second, clearing his throat. “I... I wanted to give it to you, but... maybe... somewhere quieter?”

You tilted your head, sensing his nervousness, and nodded with a soft smile. "Of course, Shoto."

A few moments later, Shoto and you were perched under a bright tree, the sun out as he watched his classmates flutter around. You were looking at him expectantly, but not with judgement, a slight blush across your face. Now or never, huh?

His hand shook ever so slightly as he reached into his bag and handed you the envelope. He avoided your gaze, feeling the heat rise in his face despite himself.

You carefully opened it, scanning the card. He could feel your attention on him, the way you were taking in the words he had carefully written. His throat felt tight, but he waited, watching the way your expression softened.

“This is… really thoughtful, Shoto,” you said, your voice gentle.

He didn’t know what to say to that. It was strange to hear someone speak to him like that—like he had actually done something right. “I wasn’t sure if…” He stopped, unsure of how to finish. “I wanted to make sure it was right.”

You smiled at him again, this time the warmth more tangible. “It’s perfect,” you said, and there was something in the way you said it that made his heart calm, just a little.

Without thinking too much about it, Shoto pulled out the second part of the gift—the tickets. “There’s… one more thing.”

You looked at the tickets, then back at him, confusion flickering across your face for a split second before it was replaced by recognition.

“These are for the concert?” you asked, shock creeping onto your face.

Shoto nodded, his expression as neutral as he could make it, though he could feel the tension in his shoulders. “I remembered you mentioned wanting to go,” he said. “I thought… if you still wanted to, we could go together.”

You blinked, clearly surprised. For a moment, Shoto was afraid you might not like it—but then your smile grew wider, and it felt like the weight had finally lifted from his chest.

“Shoto, this … this is too much! You didn’t need to do all of this for me..”

“I did,” he said simply, looking at the tickets. “I wanted you to be able to go.” And, selfishly he thought, he wanted more alone time with you. As much as he could manage.

You stepped closer, your hand lightly brushing against his. “Thank you,” 

He nodded, a faint flush creeping up his neck, it had all been worth it. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, Sho…” You looked away for a moment, cheeks flushing slightly, before murmuring, “But this totally overshadows mine…”

Shoto blinked, “What...?” he asked, a little surprised.

“I didn’t know we were doing big gifts, okay?” you raised your hands up, like trying to defend yourself. “So I just made you something, it’s just little and—”

His heart softened, for some reason he didn’t even consider you would also get him a gift. He stepped a little closer, catching your gaze. “I’m sure whatever you made is perfect.” His voice was gentle, reassuring. 

You hesitated for a moment before reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, neatly wrapped box. "I… hope you like it," you said, a little uncertain.

"I’m sure I will." He took the box from you carefully, his fingers brushing yours for a second as he did, looking up from the box to your gaze, making sure to keep this memory burned into his mind.

He gently opened the box, not wanting to disturb your work, before moving the tissue paper out of the way. He paused.

It was a scrapbook.

It was small, about the size of a small notebook, with the first picture of you both plastered on the front page, surrounded by little stickers. His hands trembled slightly as he held it, the weight of it making his chest feel heavier than usual.

His thumb traced over the cover, heart thudding in his chest.

“It’s not finished yet!” you sputtered, nerves bubbling up. “I’ve only filled in the first few pages, but I was thinking we could fill it in together and—” As you spoke, his fingers flicked through the first pages. There it was—your first date, the receipt from the boba store, the cinema tickets. As he flipped through, a soft, warm feeling began to bloom in his chest. It was clear now what Natsuo meant. Personal gifts, something with real meaning, were truly unbeatable.

Shoto could barely speak, eyes tracing over each little detail you’d added. 

“I…” He swallowed, a lump forming in his throat as he searched for the right words. “This... this means a lot.”

He met your gaze, his chest tightening with something more than gratitude. Everything he had felt in the last few (amazing, complicated) weeks surged to the surface. You’re mine. He had someone who took the time to do this for him, someone who cared enough to leave pages in a scrapbook just for him to fill. 

Thank you doesn’t mean enough, so he lets his body talk for itself. Even though everything was still new—still uncertain, still so fragile—he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to be close to you. It’s only been a few weeks, and nothing has been exchanged except a brief kiss or two and some light hand holding. But despite the lack of his experience burning in the back of his mind, he can’t help but lean in. 

He reached out, hand gently brushing through your hair, pulling you closer. Even as the thought nagged at the back of his mind—we're in public, no one knows yet—he couldn't bring himself to care. The happiness swelling in his chest was overpowering.

His lips meet yours, and you must feel it too, in the way this kiss is more powerful than the rest.  It was still new, still uncertain in some ways, but there was an undeniable tenderness that made Shoto feel like everything had led to this moment.

He could do this forever. He wanted to. And maybe—just maybe—he’d get to.

.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊.⊹ °ʚ☆ɞ°.⭒₊

i've been writing so much angst lately this was kinda hard. But enjoy loves! and happy day of love! ε(´｡•᎑•`)っ 💕

bestie... shotos little oh... after being called baby is so cute and i just know that boy is feeling things he hasnt felt before so can we pleass get a pt2???

basically family — pt. 2

s.todoroki smau

a/n: i was thinking he said “oh…” while side eyeing his phone because he didn’t like it but y’know what, yeah fuck it ur right anon let’s get some romance up in this bitch

m.list

sae and oliver betting on you in poker

Fatgum form smut pleaseeeeeeeee 🤲🏼 I just want them to love each other and bang

His fat form is good for many things. It's good for his job, obviously. It's good for combat and his brand, good for making him seem more approachable-

It's not good for intimacy.

Tai keeps the light off, as if that makes it any better. That way, he can't see your face when he sits down next to you on the couch. Surprisingly, you're quick to throw a leg over him, straddling his lap with wide legs.

"This is what you've been hiding from me?" you tease. Your touch is so liberal; you give it so easily, so much. Everything about you is pressing and touching and-

A hand on your hip to keep you apart for him.

"I know it's not..." he trails off. It's not a lot of things. The though won't form; his skin is buzzing too loud.

"I like you like this." You cup his cheeks in your hands, head tilted with an abundance of affection and a hint of mischief. "I like a big boy."

But Taishiro can't shake off the feeling that you're lying.

"It's okay." He laughs this time. "I know I'm not-- I know I'm not attractive like this."

He can feel your weight shift as you tilt your head to the other side, watching him in the dark.

"Give me your hand."

Both of your hands fit into his. Easily, you guide it to your mouth and kiss each knuckle, slowly, unrushed, each touch a love letter in itself. It's tender. So tender tgat he gives into you, lets you moce him how you need him.

Then, you drag it to your cheek, down your neck, all the way to the top of your collarbone. He almost pulls away on instinct, but your grip is firm and trustworthy. The give of your breast shocks the breath out of him, especially when you close your hands around his and force him to squeeze.

"Oh," he manages. He's never fully allowed himself this, never allowed himself to touch you, but now you make him. He's caressing your stomach, fumbling with your shirt--

Oh.

Oh.

His hand is suddenly down the front of your pants. Your panties are soft and lacey, but you don't give him time to admire that. No, you're pushing him lower, until his thick fingers are pressing between your folds-

"Tai," you whisper, right into the shell of his ear. "Am I wet?"

"Y-yeah."

Your hips roll into the palm of his hand and he's amazed at how your excitement slips between his fingers.

"Am I wet for you?"

His breath gets caught in his throat. "Yeah."

Your laugh goes so deep that it's almost a purr. Throwing an arm around his neck, your hips move again, this time more securely. It happens again, then again, then again, and your head dips low into the crook of his neck.

"Mm," your voice is buttery with want. "Yeah, I am."

It takes him a while to cut through the static thats built on in his brain and realize what you're doing. You're masturbating. You're masturbating using his hand.

"I'm so wet for you." Your body presses closer to his torso. "I want your fingers."

Oh, he should move, but he's just so gobsmacked that he can't. This has to be a dream, a hallucination-

"I want your cock."

Your tone tips up, wobbly and tender and ugly in the most delicious way, the way that makes his ribs open with want-

When you cum, it's with a garbled tone. If he weren't touching you, feeling how your pussy twitches and pulls and wets, he'd think you were lying to him, protecting his ego.

But, instead you chuckle, right into the shell of his ear.

"That's how bad I want you."

on the fwb topic.. could i request a tenya one but the way he acts with yn is like nothing like just fwb 😍😿😭😻🥰😻 thank you wink

crying lightening

i.tenya

-your friend with benefits comes with wayyy more benefits.

The thought of fucking your boss for the first time, and yet here you are railing him in his office where people could hear you from the other side of the door.

You’ve had a crush on him ever since you started working with him, but you had to hide your feelings because of the fear he would fire you. He’d always praise you for doing a good job as his assistant, sometimes he’d praise you so much that it turns you on. He sometimes would always invite you to his fancy parties and you get so jealous whenever a pretty woman talks to him. You wanted him to be yours, and yours alone.

You’ve been doing a really good job for now, he called you into his office saying he wanted to give you a reward. You shrugged and thought he was gonna give you a raise or something, but when you opened the door. There he was, his jacket discarded and his shirt unbuttoned for you to see his chest, and holding handcuffs. You literally began to turn into a flustered mess and stammering your words asking why he called to see you. Your eyes widened in surprise as he told you how he knew you had a thing for him and just waited for the right moment.

And thats how you ended up bending him over on his desk, his hand cuffed up behind his back, your cock slowly moving in and out of his hole. Your fingers tangling his hair as you whispered sweet praises at him. His moans growing more louder and desperate as you fastened yours thrusts, and when you tell him you’re nearing your orgasm and was about to pull out. He beg at you to fill him up with your cum. And so you did, you came inside of him filling him up fully. You let go of his hair and pulled out and smiled as his hole dripped of your cum. He was finally yours.