I'll Swerve The Car Hard With Him In It😛😛

No u don't understand I want to beat the shi outta myself to have a gaping hole in my memory so that i can read this all over again.

Specially the part in ch 13 only to gigggle and kick my feet

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

REHAB!TOUYA X READER

The former villain known as 'Dabi' is now your patient. On the road to recovery, you're charged with nursing him and his broken heart back to health.

carnations symbolize new beginnings, grief, and love. ❦

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғᴏᴜʀ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғɪᴠᴇ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sɪx. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ sᴇᴠᴇɴ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɴᴇ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴇɴ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇʟᴇᴠᴇɴ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴇʟᴠᴇ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ. ⟢ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ғᴏᴜʀᴛᴇᴇɴ. ⟢

everyone!! you need to read this masterpiece! wew lvove a slowburn romance at 3 am specially when paired with a shuffle playlist that plays the RIGHT song at the exact right moment and it takes u to a diff world??? my honest experience

everything i didn't say

feat: college au, frat boy touya x fem!reader (she pronoun is used)

warnings: drinking (3rd year of uni so everyone is of age), language, heavy suggestive bits (slight nsfw), angst if you squint (miscommuncation and emotional constipation yay)

cache notes: 6k read so buckle in motherfuckers. happy birthday to the love of my life and my favorite man in the whole word <3

m.list

touya was an idiot for falling in love with you. 

you have him wrapped around your finger and you aren’t even aware of it. he didn’t know when these feelings developed, but months ago he realized that the thought of you getting intimate with someone other than him made him want to put a hole in the wall. it was a rough revelation on his conscious, and an even heavier one on his heart. 

because truthfully? the two of you were friends. close friends. best friends. 

he met you during the first few days of freshman orientation– you weren’t talking to anyone nor were you making an effort to, and touya was bored and didn’t find anyone interesting enough to sit down with. all it took was one clever and witty line to win you over (and an offer to sneak out and smoke a joint when the upperclassmen weren’t looking) and the rest was history. 

the two of you did everything together. you were inseparable. any party that the two of you attended you were attached to his hip and vice versa. he was a part of you as you were of him. 

as the years went on, touya and yourself had gotten more… affectionate with one another. you were never afraid to flirt openly with him– he returned it, actually– and touya was not scared to sling an arm around your shoulders or even your waist if he was intoxicated enough. 

it was just how the two of you were. 

even currently, you’re teasing him as he follows you to your dorm room. he’s got his dab pen perched between his pointer finger and thumb, taking rips occasionally as he takes lazy strides behind you. the straps of his bag are loosened all the way, so it hangs low on his back and makes him slouch when wears it. 

“why are you even following me right now?” your head tilts back to look at him. your tone is clearly playful, and if that wasn’t enough; the smirk stretching on your lips was another clear sign. “your dorm is on the other side of campus.” 

touya grunts. there’s a dull itch in the back of his head as he tries not to think about how attractive that grin of yours is. “‘m bored and your company isn’t as bad as i make it seem.” his head turns to the side and his tone lowers to a grumble. “plus i like the view.”

you continue forward, a laugh bubbling from your chest. “ouh,” your voice drawls, dripping with ridicule. “the touya todoroki likes my company? i’m so honored.” 

he scoffs in response, bringing the pen to his lips and takes a good four second rip. he holds in the vapors for a couple more seconds, speaking through the exhale as smoke curls around his cheeks. “i take it back,” his lip curls with mock irritation. “you’re annoying and infuriating and insufferable and–”

he cuts himself off. comes to a complete stop behind you, and it’s involuntary what comes out of his mouth next. 

“gorgeous too.” 

your eyes roll just the slightest bit. “flirt,” you call over your shoulder– but he decides not to comment on it. 

by now the two of you are standing in front of the steps to your dorm building– touya doesn’t remember the majority of the walk there. he was more focused on how the color of your hair matches so well with the palette of the scene outside– it’s fall weather, so the trees look stunning around campus– and how you’d always step on the crunchiest of leaves. touya doesn’t know how you do it every time. maybe you have some special, niche and useless talent. 

but he finds it endearing and it makes his chest twist. 

he watches you take the first step towards the building, his heart stuttering when you choose to tilt towards him. when you’re this close, touya can see the different colored specks in your eyes, the pale dusting of freckles that have faded along your nose. when you’re this close, touya hopes you can’t hear how his breath hitches at the proximity or the roar of his heartbeat in his throat. 

“i’ve got a paper to write,” you murmur, the teasing smirk you were wearing now fading to a fond grin. your eyes roam the length of him, taking in the fact that even though it’s somewhat chilly out; he’s in the thinnest hoodie from his wardrobe and yours is thick enough to rival the michelin man. 

touya hates how his heart falls at your words. his eyes fall downwards, his tone almost brooding in a way. “already ditching me for some damn paper?” his words are light and teasing, his expression is not. “you’re breaking my heart.”

“you,” touya’s brain spins as you lean in even closer when you speak, your tone dropping an octave. your finger reaches out and hooks underneath his chin and touya’s brain lags when you pull him ever so slightly closer. “are too much of a distraction.” 

fuck. fuck. fuck. 

touya freezes. his eyes are laser focused on yours, and he’s pretty sure his lungs have checked out from his body entirely. 

this teasing is normal between the two of you. the both of you are always this affectionate. he curses the day his brain subtly switched from finding this kind of banter amusing to making him want to kiss the everloving shit out of you. 

somehow, he forces himself to speak. his voice is shaky, quieter than normal. “am i, now?”

he hates that he’s close enough to see how your canine digs into the plump flesh of your lower lip. the color of the skin changes due to the light pressure you put on it. he barely registers how your thumb drags along his lower lip before your hand retracts from his chin. 

“yeah, you are.”

touya knows he’s fucked– completely and utterly screwed when you use that tone. you don’t even know that you have him wrapped tight, and at this point he’s too embarrassed to confess it either. 

“you’re teasing me and you know it,” touya murmurs, his voice bordering the line from flustered and frustrated. 

your head tilts. of course you are. it’s your favorite game to play with him, to see who backs down first. usually it’s yourself– you’re always a sucker for touya’s intimidating and soft dominating aura– so it’s a small, but not unwelcome surprise that he’s waving the flag right now. the corner of your mouth curls and you lean in once again, your finger pushes into the plane of his chest where you know his favorite dogtags rest. 

“i’ll text you after i’m done, yeah?” the smirk grows wider when you feel touya’s lithe fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging you closer. “we could grab dinner at the dining hall… or hit up that frat party…”

you’re evil, touya’s thinking to himself. so fucking evil. your lips have just barely grazed his with that offer, and despite how soft and gentle your voice sounded; a shudder ran down his spine. he always imagines this tone of yours well and late into the night, whispered into his ear as the two of you settle into his mattress–

touya wants to kiss you so bad. 

it’d be so easy too.  all he has to do is lean forward ever so slightly and his lips would be flush against yours and the two of you wouldn’t be playing this stupid cat and mouse game anymore. it would cross a line, yes; he’s aware of that, but he’s tired. he wants to give in so fucking badly. 

but all he can do is stutter in response. “yeah, that sounds good.” 

your finger travels up the firm expanse of his chest before curling under his chin again. at this point, you’re taunting him to cross the line. your lips are so close to his that they are dancing that dangerous edge of making contact with his own. 

“i’ll text you,” you murmur, your eyes bounce between his lips to his sharp sapphire gaze. 

his hand tightens ever so slightly around your wrist, head tilting as his eyes roam your features intently. “fucking cock tease,” touya mutters before he can even think about the words coming out of his mouth. 

that makes a laugh bubble straight from your chest. it stings in ways that touya doesn’t like, his expression melting to a small scowl. you act like this is a harmless game– it is, to you– and that only causes touya’s chest to squeeze tighter. you would not be treating him like some toy if you knew there was something deeper than what touya let on. “lewd,” you reply, your tone light. “cock tease, really?”

touya let out the smallest breath he would allow himself to take and lifts his other hand to grasp your chin. his touch is gentle, but firm– it keeps you locked in place. the pads of his fingers are warm, calloused; you wonder if he’s picked up the guitar again in the times that you don’t spend with him. “stop teasing me,” he practically hisses, “just kiss me already.”

would touya believe you if you told him you’ve been wanting to since second semester of freshman year? probably not. he prides himself in being observant, but he’s oblivious to certain signs when it comes from you. 

“you’re so demanding,” you giggle. to him, the noise is soft, low, alluring– teasing– it makes him grit his teeth. but to you, it’s a way to satiate the bundle of nerves that had been festering in your gut the moment you leaned in. 

touya is so close to tasting you. he can feel your lips part against his, ghosting over his own in some sick way of further testing his patience. he can feel the warmth of your breath mixing with his, causing his eyelids to flit shut. 

and then his phone rings. 

and you pull away. 

he’s so stunned from the whiplash that all he can do is stand and watch you bound up the steps toward your dorm building, waving your fingers in that stupid little flirty wave you do. touya finds new swears as his phone continues to ring in his back pocket, but his eyes do not leave your form until you’re passing through the front door. you call out a final time that you’ll text him, and all he can do is produce a weak wave in response. 

-

touya’s never really put much effort into how he’s dressed before. he knows he’s somewhat decent looking– i mean, you do sound genuine enough when you flirt with him, that has to count for something, right? but he decided normal attire isn’t going to cut it tonight. he wants to impress you. make you come crawling to him and hang onto him like always do when you drink. 

he changed his outfit four times before ringing the dumb blonde he calls his friend– keigo always had better style than him surprisingly– which led to the discussion on why touya was so hellbent on looking good for the night. “you’re gonna ditch us for your little secret girlfriend, aren’t you, ‘roki?” 

touya’s lip curls at the nickname but doesn’t correct him on it. keigo uses it regardless of the hundreds of times touya has told him he hated it. “we aren’t dating, you know that,” he scoffs. there’s a twinge inside of him that soars at the idea of you being his girlfriend. 

“right, right,” keigo muses on the other side of the phone. “you aren’t official,” and at touya’s scoff in response; keigo argues back, “what? you go see her every day, you bring her little gifts, take her out to lunch… i’d say that’s some boyfriend level behavior right there, touya.” 

touya is thankful that he cut the videochat a while back ago. a flush creeps up his neck and he curses internally. “you’re the worst,” he mutters, chewing at the inside of his cheek. 

keigo laughs. “i’m right, aren’t i? you definitely like her.” 

touya wanted to snap back and say he didn’t, but it’s not that he wanted to deny it. he’d been pining over you for almost two and a half years now, is it really honest to boil all of that down to a simple… like? touya has to be honest with himself. he loves you. 

the revelation makes him want to vomit and throw his fist into the wall. 

keigo continues to ramble on. “why don’t you just make it official at this point?”

he scoffs in response to that. “it’s complicated.” 

“what, is this highschool?” keigo laughs. he sounds mocking and condescending, but touya knows he’s right. “how is it complicated? you’ve known her for years. she likes you too, idiot. pretty sure she’s just waiting for you to ask her out at this point.” 

it feels like keigo is giving him false hope. he wants to believe that your flirting is a genuine show, that you’re taunting him into taking the first step into new territory. he wants to believe that if he does take that first step that you’ll be by his side the further he dives in. he wants to believe it. he craves it. 

“she is coming tonight, isn’t she?” keigo presses. there’s shuffling noises from his side of the phone, it sounds like he’s also in the process of getting ready as well.

you had texted him a bit ago, letting him know when you finished your paper– as promised – and he had offered an invitation to the party tonight. it was an open event, he didn’t need to invite you— but it felt so much more intimate and personal when he asked you to come himself. he practically leapt out of bed when he got your confirmation, as embarrassing as it is to admit that to himself. 

“yeah,” touya assures quietly, “she is.”

keigo responds with a click of his tongue, a low chuckle echoing out through touya’s receiver. “that explains it,” he muses, “explains it a lot.” 

touya fiddles with the chain at his hip– a pick from keigo that he went along with just for the hell of it. he had nagged at the blonde for helping him choose an outfit that looked a bit darker than his normal attire (touya wasn’t trying to go for the emo look) but he does look good. with his hair hanging past his ears and the dogtags around his neck, he still has the touches that make it distinctly him– but he clearly looks like he put in effort. 

“explains what?” touya’s lips purse. 

“you actually called me for advice,” keigo laughs in response. “you are clearly trying to score tonight.” 

touya doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed or not that keigo calls him out on it. 

-

from the looks of it, you like touya’s choice in clothing. you haven’t said a word to him, but he can feel the lingering stares– he knows you can feel his eyes on you as well. the two of you haven’t been subtle about it at all. it’s getting to the point that keigo rolls his eyes, nudging touya’s leg with his foot with a scoff. “quit eye-fucking her already.” 

touya scowls at that comment and swats at the blonde’s chest. he’s nicely faded at the moment, a couple drinks deep and he’s been taking healthy hits of the dab pen he brought with him– for confidence or comfort, he’s not sure what for quite yet. his body feels warm and heavy and light all at the same time. 

in the back of his mind, touya is itching to dance with you. 

he keeps stealing glances. you look so carefree, so happy and relaxed– though part of it is most likely due to the alcohol. your cheeks have a subtle flush to them, a rosy pink that’s visible to him even under the dim house lights. the more you move around, the more sweat clings to your skin and to the fabric of your clothes; it makes the loose strands of your hair stick to your forehead and causes blood to run south in touya’s body. 

he takes several gulps of his beer to calm down. it does not help at all. 

he manages to catch you later in the night. he’s on his way back from the kitchen, a fresh cup of whatever mixture keigo and rumi convinced him to drink– it’s fruity and sweet, its a drink you would like more than him– when he catches you leaning against the wall that overlooks the rest of the larger room where a crowd has formed in front of the mock dj stand. 

touya’s chest squeezes at the sight of you. even from behind, you look stunning– your ass looks amazing in those jeans you’re wearing, but he tries to ignore that– and he struggles to keep his eyes off of you. maybe it’s the intoxication, maybe it’s both making the emotions and feelings rush to the surface so suddenly. 

he slides up next to you, a comfortable but intimate distance between your shoulder and the plane of his chest. touya’s a couple inches taller, tall enough that he can peer over and see just how much is left in your cup. he nudges your shoulder gently, soft enough as to not startle you– you get extremely jumpy the more you drink. 

your head tilts and a lazy smile spreads onto your lips when you register his warmth beside you. “hey,” your voice is low, slurred and incredibly affectionate paired with the way your eyes immediately lock onto his. if touya were sober he would’ve frozen like a deer in headlights at the sight of you. 

but touya is comfortably drunk. comfortable and confident– even if that confidence is a front. his chest still feels tight and his hands shake a little, but if you bring it up he can just blame it on the alcohol. 

“havin’ fun?” he asks, leaning in a bit so you could hear him over the music. you nod slowly, your lips never parting to speak but touya knows you’re feeling good. he juts his chin toward the cup in your hand, “what’cha drinkin’ sweetheart?”

his heart flips at the immediate smile the petname pulls onto your lips. “jack ‘n coke,” you mumble, holding the cup out towards him. the smirk on his lips falters just the slightest bit when the two of you swap cups. you’re drinking his usual. and he’s drinking something you would usually drink. 

touya takes a sip from your cup and immediately feels the familiar burn of whiskey climb down his throat and settle into the bottom of his stomach. he knows you don’t like whiskey. dark liquor makes you do strange things, he remembers. that’s why you stick to clear alcohol, the cocktails and fruitier flavored drinks. 

but instead of you doing something odd, it’s touya. your attention is back on the crowd when he opens his mouth. “how come we’ve never hooked up?”

touya doesn’t register the words until you’re practically spitting your drink out into your hand with a baffled expression. “touya!”

his eyes are wide, and he can’t help the little tingle that runs down his spine at the way you say his name. he coughs a little, trying to ease the awkwardness as best he can. “you can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it at least once.”

“have you?”

his heart is in his throat. yes i have, he wants to confess, multiple times. i think about you in my bed almost every night, and not just being naked and panting after i’m done with you, but just laying next to me while we listen to my noisy ass neighbors as we try to fall asleep. i think about holding you in the middle of the night to keep warm because my heat sucks in my dorm room.  i think about telling you i love you while holding you under the blankets you always steal from me when you come over to hang out. 

instead, he does something even ballsier. “c’mere,” he murmurs, tugging on your wrist. he doesn’t expect you to follow him, considering he just implied sleeping together but when he looks over his shoulder you are trailing behind him, peeking at your feet as you walk as if you don’t trust your footing at all. he remembers you hide your soberness well when you’re still. 

in a swift movement, he tugs you to the left; towards a bathroom that’s hardly ever used. your vision goes fuzzy with the sudden jolt, but touya’s hands are there on your hips before you stumble over completely, which gives him the perfect opportunity to place you ontop of the sink countertop. his hand is firm as he lets it rest on your thigh, leaning over to flip the lock on the bathroom door. 

that sound has a sobering effect on your conscious. “touya–” you suddenly blurt out, your nerves clenching tight in your gut and a heavier flush spreading along your cheeks. “i don’t want to hook up–”

you see touya tense visibly in front of you. his fingers twitch along your thigh, and his head doesn’t lift for a couple of moments. 

you realize how it sounds, after following him to a secluded area when he challenged the idea of you two getting more intimate. it sounds bad. your hands slap over your face, covering the rosy tint that has spread to the rest of your face with an anguished cry. “that’s not what i mean! not like that– i just–”

touya snorts in response. he can’t help it really, seeing you rattled when you’re normally so calm and collected around him forces a laugh to bubble from his chest. “why are you so flustered right now?” he teases, feeling a small flow of confidence enter his bloodstream. his hands glide along your thighs until they rest comfortably on your hips. “we’re just in a bathroom.”

“i panicked,” you whine a little. your hands lower so your eyes could meet his. your lower lip juts out and touya’s smirk grows wider. “don’t laugh at me.”

“i can’t help it,” he chuckles, the sound low and it vibrates down to your chest. “it’s too cute seeing you all shaken.” his thumbs dig into your sides as he leans in, caging you on top of the sink with his arms. “what’re you panicking for?” he murmurs, his tone gentle and surprisingly soothing given the shit-eating grin on his lips. he lifts a hand and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“i thought we were…” your voice trails off, but your eyes are locked onto his. touya’s being bold, strangely affectionate– for him, that is– and it causes something to settle in the bottom of your gut. his hand lingers around your jaw, so you take it as a green flag to lift your own palms to his chest, feeling the fabric of his shirt with shaky fingertips. “i didn’t want to… do something… stupid. to us.” 

oh. 

touya feels that confidence in his bones get ripped straight from under his skin. his heart skips a beat and his eyes flicker from your own to your lips. “what do you mean, ‘something stupid’?” 

he thought he would be more prepared if this conversation were to ever happen. hell– he thought he’d be sober when you two finally delved into what exactly the two of you were. he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart rate is behind his ribcage. 

“do you think we’d mess up our friendship if we… did do something?”

you head nods almost automatically– albeit slowly, due to your foggy brain due to the alcohol– and something in touya’s expression falls. its subtle, but you know touya. you saw it even through the swimming lines in your vision. 

your teeth catch onto your lower lip, a nervous habit that you have never been able to break. touya’s hand lifts and cups your jaw, his thumb brushing over your lip. “stop biting.”

the action and command sends a shiver down your spine. your lips press together and you try hard to resist the urge to continue chewing on your lip. “touya…” his name is a barely audible mumble coming out of your mouth, your eyes stay locked on his. 

you barely hear the hum that echoes out of his chest. you can’t get over how… softly he’s looking at you. you’ve known touya todoroki for all of three years– since freshman year of uni– he’s never looked at you like this before. it’s different from the usual looks he gives you when it’s just the two of you, different from when it’s those late nights out at the park when he actually shares a blunt with you. he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon– like you’re the stars and he’s witnessing them for the first time. 

that aloof facade is breaking more and more the longer your eyes don’t stray apart from one another. “why are you so nervous?” you don’t have to dig deeper to know he’s not just talking about having sex with you. he’s talking about the relationship. 

“pretty sure i’m in love with you,” your voice is a whisper, barely audible. your head leans in and your forehead rests against his and his nose is warm against your own. you can smell the sweetness of the drink he shared with you on his breath and it’s intoxicating enough to make your eyes flutter shut to say the least. you loved sweet drinks. “i– i think i love you– i…” 

for touya, the world stops. the noise of the party fades, he doesn’t even hear the roar of his blood pumping in his ears. his hands tighten their hold on your hips, tugging you ever so slightly closer towards him and he closes the distance between your lips. 

his hands slide under your shirt, resting on your bare waist and the small of your back, his touch searing against the chilliness of your skin. he pours so much emotion into this kiss, saying the words he’s been too afraid of saying for months now with the touch of his mouth against yours. he can feel the blood pumping again when he feels your arms sling around his neck, returning the kiss just as eagerly. 

it’s as if simultaneously the both of you have said; no more teasing, no more games– no more playing around. 

touya groans as he feels you melt against him, the sigh you let out against his mouth probably the hottest thing he’s witnessed from you. he needs more. he’s allowed to be greedy now– he’s waited long enough. 

one of his hands leaves your waist to tangle into your hair, tugging and smirking at the soft gasp it elicits from your mouth. it angles your head back and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss further. 

“does this mean,” you’re mumbling against his mouth and touya wishes you’d stop talking so he could focus on just kissing you– “that you… you–” your hands delve into his hair, unable to finish the sentence. you try to speak, but everytime you find an opening to say words, his hands or lips move in a way that make your knees weak. 

“if you can’t finish the damn sentence, i’ll do it,” he speaks through kisses, his hands roaming your skin under your shirt. “yeah, i love you too. obviously.” 

you’re impatient by now, tugging the front of his shirt as you huff against his lips. your hands slide down his shoulders to his back, digging your nails into his skin just enough to where it bites and feels good. “we’re gonna talk about this more when we’re both sober.”

“you’re so cruel,” he grumbles against your mouth, groaning at the sting from your nails. he pushes further into you, catching your lower lip and biting it. he lifts a hand and moves it to rest at the base of your throat, his fingers splaying across your collarbone. 

the action causes a gasp to leave you. your eyes flutter and he takes the chance slip his tongue into your mouth, humming when yours moves against his. “i don’t want to forget if you drunkenly ask me on a date right now,” you mutter against his mouth. 

the kisses are growing more heated, more insistent. your legs spread more involuntarily to accommodate his body in between them and touya doesn’t need to be told twice before he settles in between them. he keeps a hand firm on your thigh and the other at the base of your neck, continuing to angle your head back. 

“you’re cruel,” he repeats, breathless as he continues to kiss you. “you’d really deny your poor drunken boyfriend a date?”

if the bathroom door shutting didn’t fully sober you up, the word ‘boyfriend’ coming from touya’s mouth certainly finished the job. it short-circuits your brain– causing you to pause and dig your nails in sharply to the skin of his lower back. you let out a shaky exhale that’s easily swallowed by his mouth, your eyes roll backwards from his touch. “no– no, not denying–”

that’s when touya pulls away. there’s a satisfied chuckle that starts in his chest and rumbles past his lips– clearly he used that word on purpose. a cocky smirk spreads onto his lips for a split second before he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your jaw. “then go on a date with me,” he mumbles against your skin. “a proper date, not that stupid ‘hanging out’ bullshit we always do.”

your breath hitches at his tone and the feeling of his lips. “where are you gonna take me?” you ask coyly, your hands dip to his waistline, grazing along the button of his jeans and tugging. 

it’s a dirty trick to distract him. 

it works, but it also doesn’t. his head drops to watch you tug at his jeans and a strangled groan leaves his mouth. when he lifts his head his eyes are shut so tight you think the skin around them has gone white and his teeth are digging into his lower lip. he’s trying very hard to hold himself together. 

“we’re gonna go out for dinner,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “somewhere nice and fancy. then we’re gonna go for a walk–”

“a walk?” your eyebrow lifts, skeptical but when touya shoots you a sharp glare you shrink back ever so slightly with a small, awkward giggle. 

“a walk. a nice, long walk where i can put my arm around you without you running off before i can.”

his statement makes you swallow a lump that’s formed almost too quickly in your throat. your heart beats wildly, jackhammering against your ribcage it’s a wonder he can’t hear it or even see it bouncing against your chest. “‘m not gonna run this time,” you find yourself whispering. 

your nose brushes against his when you lean in once more and you press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. you pop the button on his jeans without another word and touya melts. the sound that leaves his mouth is a mix of a sigh and moan but it’s so low and hot it sends scorching sparks down your spine. your breath stutters in your throat the noise. 

“jesus christ,” he hisses, but there’s no venom to it. his hands latch around your thighs and he tugs you closer towards him. being this close to him, you can feel the way his jeans strain against his body now that you’ve unbuttoned them and the heat is sweltering between the lower half of your bodies. he grips your thighs even tighter, his thumbs bruising into the flesh. “when i said ‘dinner and a walk’, i did not mean ‘dinner and a quickie in the bathroom of a frat party’.” 

his voice shakes ever so slightly and it causes the corner of your mouth to lift. “tell me to stop,” you mumble, your breathing heavy against his jaw. you litter the skin with heated kisses, your fingers hesitant as they inch the fabric of his jeans down his hips agonizingly slow. “we can go to dinner and a walk tomorrow after we wake up–”

one of his hands grips the sink next to your thighs, his knuckles are white. he knows he shouldn’t push farther with you– even if it’s something the both of you want. but both of you are drunk, so fucking drunk and in the bathroom of a frat party for fucks sake and he was hoping his first time with you would be so much more intimate and special– “damn you,” he whispers, letting out a shaky exhale. “stop. stop.” 

it takes a hell of a lot of restraint to pull away from him. 

but you do. you withdrawal your hands, letting them hover around his hips before the settle onto the sink on either side of your hips. one hand clasps over touya’s and you give him a reassuring squeeze– trying to say the words you can’t voice at the moment. 

a breathless ‘fuck’ falls from touya’s mouth the moment you pull away. his cerulean gaze finds yours again– studying your expression for several beats of silence before he steps closer again. “you don’t know how hard it was to have to tell you to stop,” he grouses, using a hand to yank his jeans back over his hips, securing the button clumsily. his chest rises and falls with uneven breaths. “you better hope noone finds out we’re in a bathroom together. we’re never gonna hear the end of it if they do. especially if they find out we did anything.”

your cheeks burn a little at touya’s rambling. “what,” you scoff, playing it off as a laugh, though your eyes refuse to meet his. “embarrassed to get caught in here with me?” 

touya mocks your scoff in return. he can’t help the sass in his response, not caring about how it comes out of his mouth. “more embarrassed to get caught in you,” he muttered, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. “do you know how embarrassing that would be?” 

Your eyebrow lifts. Your head tilts, expression almost incredulous. “haven’t you hooked up with girls at parties before?” your eyes scan his expression, eyes narrowing into a glare almost. “what’s so embarrassing about me?”

shit. 

touya’s words get caught in his throat. his heart feels like it’s leapt out of his chest and is doing freestyle dance moves on your lap just to taunt him. he feels like an idiot, he sounds like an idiot. he knows just from your expression. 

“it’s… it’s different,” he says after an awkward bout of silence. “you’re you.”

i’ve been crushing on you since freshman year, and i don’t want to get caught in here and people assuming that i’m taking advantage of you because we’re both drunk–

your tongue presses between your lips and your eyes finally meet his. a single finger of yours reaches out, tugging the hem of his shirt to pull him closer and touya follows willingly. he’s close enough that your faces are inches apart again, your nose knocking against his and lips brushing against his with each word. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you murmur lowly. 

he swallows visibly. he takes a minute to take in your features– to really look at you. your eyes are still the same shade, but they have a glaze from the alcohol. it makes you look softer– more vulnerable. a side he sees every so often, but he knows the sober sight of this side is something you save just for him. your cheeks have a specific shade of pink when you blush. 

“it means you’re not just some girl,” he eventually mumbles. “a random girl that i can go and hook up with at a party and just forget about.”

there’s a tense silence between the two of you as you mull over his words. your eyes flick over his lips– swollen and wet from your kisses– before they meet his eyes, swallowing the lump that forms in your throat. “what am i to you?” you ask, your voice low and it’s the first time touya’s heard you be completely serious the entire night. “and don’t just say i’m different or your… girlfriend, touya– what are we?”

touya’s always loved the way you say his name. your voice is so soft, so light and tender, like you’re breathing out clouds or something. his breath stutters and his jaw clenches, tight and tense. his hands find your waist again, and when his eyes find yours he hates just how weak he is for you. how fast and easy you can get him to crumble with just a look. “you’re trying to get me to say something.” 

“i said i loved you, touya,” your head tilts back in exasperation. the grumble that leaves your mouth is irritated and strained and your head tilts away from him to avoid the kiss he so desperately wants to press to your lips. your eyes shut and you mumble; “of course i’m trying to get you to say something.”

touya’s shoulders dip forward a bit when he hears the aggravation in your tone. “i said it back,” he retorts quickly, defensive. “i said i loved you too, do you not believe me?”

his eyes are sharp as they scan over your expression– trying to determine what exactly is going through your brain at the moment. he knows you’re still intoxicated, hell– he is too– but he can’t help but feel like he’s trying to break through a wall that truly doesn’t exist. 

“why is it so hard to put a label on what we are then?” for the first time in a while since the two of you have met, this is the longest the two of you have held direct eye contact. touya’s eyes are still piercing, still intimidating, but they don’t scare you as much anymore. 

for a few moments, the two of you stare at each other. touya can’t help but admire you, since he’s already so close. he still thinks you’re beautiful as the day he met you, and you can’t help but scan the slope of his nose or the curve of his lips. 

when was the last time the two of you truly looked at each other?

“what do you want me to say?” touya speaks after a couple more beats of silence. his brows pinch together. “that… you’re my girlfriend?”

you can see how he hesitates with the word. it’s not that he didn’t want to say it, but it feels weird on his tongue. he’s never really had a dating life the entire time you’ve known him at uni, so you assume he’s rarely ever used the word. it’s not a word he thought he would be saying. girlfriend. “is that what you want?” his tone drops an octave, softer– he leans in to press a kiss to your lips and you don’t pull away from it. 

“i just want to be yours,” you sigh against his mouth. 

he lets his lips linger on yours for a couple more moments, stealing a few more kisses with gentle hums. his breath is steady and warm against your lips, your words make his chest twist and he doesn’t try to hide how it makes his heart skip. “you’ve always been mine. since freshman year.” his hands travel from your hips to rest at your sides. his touch is tender, his skin warm through the fabric of your clothes and you can’t help the wide smile that spreads onto your lips. 

you’re his. you’ve always been his. even without knowing it. 

“it’s not like i’m good at this relationship crap,” he adds after a moment. his eyes flit between yours and you can see the slightest bit of hesitation behind them. “there’s a lot of things i’ve never done before… but you already know that.”

you do. you know touya like the back of your hand, just like he does you. 

“there’s things even i don’t know how to do,” you mumble back in reassurance. it’s your turn to steal a kiss from his lips, your skin is soft against his. “but i want to learn them. with you.” 

touya melts willingly against your lips. he doesn’t hide it anymore. he loves how soft and addicting your lips are and how gentle the pressure of your mouth is against his own. he returns your peck, brushing past your mouth to press an affectionate kiss to your cheek. “anything you wanna do, i’ll be right there with you.” 

you blush like a fucking school-girl at that. the feeling is so refreshing, the softness from touya is something unexpected but is oh so welcome. 

a small chuckle leaves your mouth, your eyes dropping from his and taking in the scene around you. “so…” 

touya is already a couple steps ahead of you. “cuddle at my place?” when you laugh in response, touya doesn’t hide the wide smile that spreads across his mouth. 

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

my ideal

before you assume, no its not just a "i want a man who is 6 feet, cooks for me and plays the guitar yadayada...." its about how i *want* to meet someone, spend at least few years knowing him, getting to know about his fav interests hobbies and realising how much he cherishes his words and time. its not that i want a nonchalant boyfriend, i want a boy who's sentimental but emotionally strong, because i'd be happy to hold him in my arms in the end of the day and recharge each other. (but it js a turn-on when he speaks less personally XD) then i want to take time falling in love, confessing and finally having an official relationship tag. but then we'd be like, "unknowingly you've always been mine" the "ideal relationship" that internet provides us is just a big hoax. i wont bring fatalistic ideas here but you get what i mean yeah? i believe nothing is better than a slowburn- because patience is the ultimate form of love. "i'll wait for you" doesnt need to be told, its the actions that speak louder. and the mindset of providing and protecting? yes! i understand pulling each other's legs by making jokes and that the world is evolving but the personally think the role of men being the stronger and masculine in the relationship more romantic. imagine a balanced relationship where things are 50-50 but you dont let your lady lift up her hands to pay the bills, knowing she's well capable of paying but you just dont let her cuz.

THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST BEAUTIFUL THING IVE READ😭

and i wake with your memory over me / thats a real fucking legacy to leave

t. todoroki x reader

the trials and tribulations of housing (and loving) a wanted fugitive. a little smut (implied) mentions of (his) trauma and some bnha spoilers but with a (kinda) happy end・❥・

special tag for @crushmeeren cause i love you <3

song: maroon

pro: he’s your closest friend

he’s lived most of his life with a heart frosted over, thick ice to withstand the burning rage he emits. after years of being stomped into the cracks of the sidewalk, he’s learned to be guarded, to build impenetrable walls so high even he can’t see through them. life teaches you to trust no one when your first betrayal is family.

but anyone who manages to infiltrate those walls, search for the openings and sneak in through the windows is rewarded. his walls stay up, but he does give you a key, sometimes without even realizing it.

when you do find your way in, it’s something sacred. its 2ams, laughing with your feet in his lap, and somehow ending up on the floor after a few swigs of cheep rosé. it’s his showing up outside your window heaving and wounded, knowing your faulty bandages and less-than-knowledgable stitches are better than any professional medical car. its leaving marks on your collarbone when things get heated, that messy grey area of knowing the attraction but knowing he’s the last person in the world that should be in a relationship. its wanting, and its about trust.

“i see you every day, now.” you point out. its not a complaint or a compliment; just a fact you both are aware of.

he absentmindedly strokes the calf thats resting on his lap, feeling your healthy, breathing skin against the deceased purple cloaking him. he almost laughs, knowing he’s successfully turned your apartment into a home for him.

but who can blame him? he’s never known what a home was, until you.

“got a problem with that, doll?” he tilts his head back, white hair resting against the couch cushions. he knows you don’t, but sometimes, a man will need reassurance.

“i would have called the cops if i did.” you smile. he does too, and its rare that he smiles genuinely these days.

con: he’s an asshole, sometimes

he’s shit with his words, and he knows it. he stopped attending school in his most formative years, and learned most of his tongue from the streets. and the outside world can be less than forgiving to a boy like him. after all, the house he left wasn’t exactly nurturing.

sometimes, he’ll go weeks, months even, radio silent. he’ll let rust grow between telephones, feel the ringing of whatever burner phone he’s using ho off but not pick up. sometimes, he’d wish he could disappear altogether, and alleviate you of the pain of caring for someone like him. sometimes. other times, which is most of the time, he’s a selfish dick, and hopes that you’ll always be the lips he calls home.

he doesn’t know how to say sorry. its mostly because the sorries he’s thought about giving are sorries he shouldn’t have to even verbalize: “i’m sorry i wasn’t who you wanted.” “i’m sorry i couldn’t be the son who would surpass you.” “i’m sorry i didn’t burn myself bright enough so you could watch it happen.”

he has a horrible, stinging feeling in his gut when he knows he’s upset you, and he hates the way it makes him feel. so he swallows his pride and a shot of whiskey, before going up to you.

“doll?”

“i’m not talking to you.”

he has the audacity to roll his eyes.

“i’m sorry for what i said.” he mumbles like a little boy, and its almost funny.

“and i’m sorry for being a dick.” he says what comes to mind, what he knows is true about himself. that he can act like a bitch most of the time, and even though he thinks the world deserves it, he excluded you from that belief.

he rambles on, just hoping you’ll turn around and face him. he wants to watch the world burn, he wants to make people suffer. but he also doesn’t want to lose the one person who tries to understand him, even if it means biting his tongue a little.

pro: he’s a man of action

he’s shit with words, but he will make up for it with his what he does. he spews that gifts are unnecessary, that he’d see his father buy expensive jewelry for his mother when the cameras were watching, and that its all just a dumb performative act. the next second he’s giving you a new sweater and some earrings because he “doesn’t wanna deal with it if you get sick” and “thinks it’d look good on you.” he says he so doesn’t care, but hides a smile when he sees you wearing it.

he’s also a protector. he’s lost too much in his life to risk the one person he actually gives a shit about. god forbid you show up with any traces of a bruise or an upset frown, because he’s no stranger to the arsons match. but he’s more than willing to stay with you, because he knows better than anyone the look of loneliness. he doesn’t understand why you want him- this wasted potential of a man- around, but he knows that at the very least, no one is touching a hair on your head when he’s with you.

he may not be able to warm you with words, but he can make your cheeks look like wine when he cares, which is always. he just won’t always admit it.

“do you wanna stay the night?” you ask, sitting up from your head on his lap. you’re about 3 seasons in on some dumb, reality tv show that he says he doesn’t care about, but gets whiney when you watch an episode without him.

“at least buy me dinner first, doll.” he smirks. its his way of saying yes.

you roll your eyes: “you ate the soba i made you, jackass.”

con: he’s self destructive

for someone who seems to sure of their plans for revenge, you wonder how the hell so easily loses sight of himself. perhaps he can’t see through the smoke, or is blinded by the glowing blue he emits. perhaps its a combination of smoke, fire, and revenge, all in a tumultuous cycle that will one day end in his demise. everyone who knows him is simply counting down the days until he wears his bones down to nothing but ash. he doesn’t want to be saved, and he’s made it clear. he knows that there are hands that reach through the fire, reaching for him.

and he knows one day, you’ll lose him for good. he loathes the pit in his stomach when he thinks about you, alone, with nothing but the smell of smoke on your clothes. would you cry? would you miss the smoke despite having clean air? he’s not worthy of that, or even you.

sometimes, he’ll try to rip the bandaid off prematurely. the reason he’s a dick with a shitty vocabulary is because he doesn’t want you to miss him. in fact, he hopes you’ll hate him, that you’ll scream good riddance when the curtains close on touya todoroki.

but by some cosmic miracle, you don’t. and for however long he has with you, he wants to cherish that.

pro: he can’t give you forever, but he can make you feel like it is

touya knows that one day, you’ll wake with his memory over you. its a shitty excuse for a legacy, a ghost that can’t be exorcised or appeased. and you know that no matter what, you’ll always feel a little bit of him, a little bit of the heat, even after he’s gone.

he can’t give you forever, but he’ll kiss you like it is. he can’t give you a pretty wedding or a diamond ring, but he’ll steal gemstones and earrings for you. he can’t give you a family, or a nice house, or any of the beautiful things you deserve, but he’ll make sure to leave his burned handprints all over your heart. touya can die knowing that you will move on, but that the love you two shared burned brighter than ever.

he knows that you can’t have forever, but that you will forever wish that it was. he thinks for a moment, that if things were different, he could. that perhaps if you had met before his accident, before the darkest moments of his life, things would be different.

he can’t give you different, or forever, but you take him for what he is. and he loves you for it.

DES says . . . most ive wrote in weeks, omfg. ANYWHOO, i present to you: “can he pay my bills?” ft. bakugou, iida, izuku, todoroki, kirishima & denki.

© vampdes . do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

This shoto is real

having to explain exaggerations to shoto

“you’re so handsome, i could die!” you exclaimed, looking at shoto as you sat at his family’s dinner table, though it was just the two of you.

his hand froze, no— his whole body froze. you could die? just because of how attractive he was?

shoto’s eyes widened and his mouth was slightly agape. he had to find a way to become less attractive, and quick! he didn’t know being handsome could kill someone. maybe he should be less around you or mess up his face so he wouldn’t be as appealing to you—

“god, i remember the first time i saw your smile. you flashed those pearly whites and i nearly dropped dead!” you chuckled, leaning your cheek against your fist, unaware of shoto’s panic.

could this really get any worse? first, you thought he was so handsome, and his looks could kill you! then, when he smiled you almost died? he gulped, ashamedly looking down at his food with sad eyes. he didn’t want to kill you, you were the love of his life.

you asked, “honey, what’s wrong?” and tapped your finger against the wood.

he thought for a moment, trying to rethink every decision he ever had with you. he didn’t want your relationship to end, and he didn’t want to be the reason you died.

“i didn’t know my looks could kill you.”

a laugh almost escaped your body, and your worried expression was quickly replaced with a smile. you covered your mouth and tried to hold back a chuckle, but you couldn’t help yourself. giggles came from your mouth, but you tried to keep it to a minimum so you could explain to shoto what you meant.

“baby, i’m just joking! looks can’t actually kill someone, unless there’s a quirk for that,” you mumbled the last part, tapping your chin in wonder, “i’m just saying that the first time i saw you, i fell in love with you because of how beautiful your smile was! your looks are amazing, sho, that’s why i’m saying i almost always pass out whenever i see you. it’s outstanding how handsome you are.”

his breathing evened out and he placed his chopsticks down, mumbling something under his breath. he let out a small ‘oh,’ then stated, “thank you.”

you nodded and continued talking to him, and he, of course, paid attention, but his cheeks were as red as a tomato. he tried to hold back a smile, shy from all of your compliments, although they were just an explanation.

shoto’s cheeks brought your thoughts away from your words and again, to him. you mumbled, “you’re gonna be the death of me, sho.”

his eyes widened like they did last time, “huh? wait— oh…” the two of you laughed it off and forgot about it the next morning.

hope u guys liked this one! i love shoto so muchhh :)

"Look at me"

I laughed so hard at this I'm not lying 😭😭😭

AWEEE

todoroki shouto and his 8-month-old son having identical pouty faces.

It becomes trouble when your husband and 8-month-old son are quiet as you’re about to finish preparing dinner. You could sense it, like a superpower you could only unlock when you reached a certain milestone in life.

“It’s just a piece of soft biscuit. Maybe we can give him only a little—“

“No, Shou.”

You had only denied your son a snack once, and yet, the betrayal in his big, watery eyes made it seem like you had committed an unforgivable crime.

Your eight-month-old son, snug in Todoroki’s arms, was pouting hard—his chubby cheeks puffed out, lips trembling, and his tiny hands curled into fists against his father’s chest. Tears clung to his thick lashes, threatening to spill at any moment. He was the very image of pitiful distress.

And Todoroki?

He wasn’t much better.

He’s holding your son with an almost identical expression—unmistakably sulking, his lips pressed together in silent protest (but he knew he could never win this war against you). It didn’t help that your son was his near-perfect replica, down to the way his tiny eyebrows furrowed in quiet displeasure. The only major difference was this little boy inherited your eyes.

Thank the heavens, because you almost came to the conclusion that Todoroki reproduced by himself via asexual reproduction.

Because it was dangerous how alike they looked.

You crossed your arms, unimpressed. “Oh, come on. It was just one snack.”

Todoroki’s grip on your son shifted slightly as he responded, voice flat but clearly displeased. “It was just a small piece.”

The baby, as if understanding that his father was taking his side, whimpered softly and nuzzled closer to his father’s chest, letting out a tiny, heart-wrenching sniffle.

“Dinner is literally a minute away. He’ll survive.”

“He might starve and lose his healthy body,” Todoroki tells you warily.

“Shou, take one good look at our son. He’s chubbier than any of his older cousins, plus, we feed him formula 5 times a day, he eats solid food twice, and even gets a snack when he wakes up from his naps—so don’t tell me he’ll starve when he eats more than we do combined.”

Your husband didn’t argue further, but his silence spoke volumes. He gently rubbed your son’s back, sighing as the little boy let out another sniffle. You knew this game—Todoroki might not be saying anything, but his entire posture screamed, “I think you’re being unfair, but I won’t push it… even though I’m clearly upset.”

“The pouting isn’t going to work on me.”

Todoroki blinked, expression unchanged. “I’m not pouting.”

“You are,” you told him. “And he’s just copying you.”

At that, he finally glanced down at the baby in his arms. Your son blinked up at him, sniffling again before sticking his bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout.

They stared at each other for a long moment.

“…I think this is just his natural expression,” Todoroki finally said, deadpan.

“Uh-huh. I don’t think we’ll ever need a DNA test to prove that he’s yours.”

“Why would we need a DNA test when I’m the only man you’ve ever been with? And our son also looks like me—“

“Oh, Shou. It was a joke,” you sigh lovingly.

“Oh.”

Todoroki hummed, shifting your son slightly so he could wipe away a stray tear from the baby’s cheek. “Your mother is strict,” he murmured, speaking softly to him as if he wasn’t right in front of you. “Very heartless.”

“Excuse me?”

The baby hiccupped, seemingly agreeing.

Todoroki glanced up at you, the slightest hint of amusement evident in his eyes. “It’s true.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh. “Unbelievable. If I left meals to you, he’d be living off of cold soba and whatever random snacks you keep in the fridge.”

Todoroki didn’t deny it (for the most part).

“But I do take cooking classes now...”

“Mhm.”

He gently bounced your son in his arms, his gaze softening as your baby yawned, snuggling closer to his chest now that the dramatics had settled.

You sighed, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “You’ll thank me later, little pouty boy,” you murmured before glancing up at your husband. “And you—stop ganging up on me with him.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied, completely straight-faced.

You gave him a knowing look. “Uh-huh.”

A comfortable silence settled between you before you turned back to the stove, giving the curry one last stir. “Dinner’s ready.”

He smiled. “Finally.”

You shot him a playful glare, though there was no real heat behind it. You took your son from his arms, adjusting him on your hip before pressing a small kiss to his chubby cheek.

“Alright, come on, little pouty boy.”

Todoroki followed closely behind. “Which one?”

You laughed at that.

“Both of you.”

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

i appreciate this sweaty icy boy with huge big bro energy