Todoroki Shoto X Reader - Blog Posts

𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐈 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭! 𝐠𝐧! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

MEETING SHOTO TODOROKI:

he probably notices you studying in the common room, always meticulously organized. he respects the dedication.

if your quirk is related to warmth or fire, he's automatically wary but intrigued. he'll observe you carefully, trying to understand how you control it.

accidental encounters are his weakness. bumping into you in the hallway, dropping his soba… he'll apologize profusely, then retreat into himself.

he appreciates directness. if you're the one to initiate conversation, he'll be surprised but relieved. small talk isn't his forte, so dive into a topic he can actually discuss.

if you're good at reading people, you'll notice the subtle shift in his eyes when he acknowledges you. it shows he's paying attention, even if he doesn't say much.

he is most likely to have met you because you were partnered up in class together for hero training. he was surprised you weren't afraid.

he first thinks you're pretty when he sees you smile; he hasn't seen you smile, though, but he believes your smile is worth protecting.

he finds himself having to protect you in class a lot, but you're strong for yourself.

SHOTO CRUSHING ON YOU:

he doesn't understand the warm feeling in his chest when you are near him. he wonders if he’s sick so he asks recovery girl but she just gives him a knowing look and tells him to ‘rest’.

he wants to understand your quirk better, not just from a strategic point of view, but because he wants to understand you.

soba dates become a 'thing' because it's a comfortable, neutral ground. he's happy to share his favorite spot, and secretly pleased if you enjoy it too.

jf you tease him, he'll get flustered and look away, a slight blush creeping up his neck. it's adorable.

he starts using his fire side more in training to impress you, but he's also scared of hurting you.

training with you becomes something he looks forward to. he really enjoys analyzing your fighting style and strategizing with you.

he starts noticing the little things about you – the way you laugh, the way you concentrate, the little quirks that make you you.

he secretly asks fuyumi for advice on how to be a better friend, making her extremely happy.

if he sees others being rude or disrespectful to you, a flicker of cold fury passes over his face. he'll step in, but subtly.

he starts spacing out in class and ends up getting in trouble.

he asks you to show him your quirk again.

his resting face is now soft when he is around you, and it makes everyone notice.

DATING SHOTO TODOROKI:

dates are quiet, thoughtful, and often involve food of some kind. he likes taking you to hidden ramen shops or quiet parks.

physical affection is something he's still learning. he might start with gentle touches like holding your hand or putting an arm around you.

he worries constantly about his father. he will never be a man like him, and he is afraid you will think he will be like him.

he loves cuddling you. he's warm and cold at the same time, so you're always at the perfect temperature.

he'll open up about his family, but it takes time and trust. be patient and listen without judgment.

he wants to protect you and keep you safe, but he also respects your strength and independence.

he’ll bring you small gifts – a flower he found in the garden, a limited-edition soba flavor, or a book he thinks you'll enjoy.

he listens intently when you talk and remembers everything you say. he shows he cares by paying attention.

comforting him after a nightmare about his past might involve a hug and a promise to stay by his side.

he burns himself on purpose in order to feel something other than the burning desire he has for you.

he will do his best to be your partner despite his anxieties and worries. he will make sure to put you first.

he will always cook soba for you, and he will always ask you what he can do to be better.

he will be flustered when you kiss him, but he will kiss you back.

his favorite thing is listening to you ramble about books that you love.

he gives his whole heart to you and trusts you will take care of it.

he'll get jealous, but he won't show it... just expect extra cuddles and attention to you that day.

he's very protective of you and makes sure you're comfortable in every situation. he will be your safe haven.

he loves to hold your hand, especially if you're nervous or scared. it's his way of grounding you.

he will make sure to show how much he loves you.

© 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓 —

I’ve been so unbelievably OBBSESSED with the idea of older!sugar daddy shoto todoroki, he’s so emotionally constipated and lonely and so he somehow gets in contact with broke ahh reader (haven’t figured out how yet…) and whisks her away to this world of fine dining and fancy parties and spoils the LIFE out of her. All she has to do in return is sit pretty for him, let him show her off and help him to relieve the stresses of being the no.2 hero iykwim…

Would anyone be interested if I went ahead and wrote this…

Here’s some MHA merch with will all the love ( aaand the simps) of the world ~

10% off in all the store with coupon code : DOKICA

(Usable until Sunday!^^)

You can even make you customized earring set! Hope to see you there ! 💖

ETSY: DokiDokiCA

Wanna simp over Shinsou ? Sure! Here’s some NSFW content for ya ‘!😎

https://youtu.be/E79vQtnrfLM

So here I am !

If you are a fan of anime ( BNHA, HxH ect...) or Japanese animation in general ( Do I smell ghibli here? Yes.) please support my Etsy shop that would be opening January 16! ✨🎉🎉🎊

This is a small shop owned by a little black girl fan of anime that is !

I hope to see some of y’all , also if you’d like to share this, it will be highly appreciated ~

What I’ll be selling : Cute stickers , keychains and anime earrings for now

I think...I did something here? 👀👀

Anyone for takoyaki Todoroki ?

I called it TodoYaki 😤

Too much ? 👀 okay 😂

So I know that your birthday was yesterday but...hey it’s never too late charger boy !

Isn’t he cute tho for real? 🥺👀

Here a Hawks x Listener ASMR kind of video , lot of fluff fluff because we want to sleep well in this house 🏡 🥺

Give love to Birdy Boy, he deserves it 😩

Earth Angel | Takami Keigo x Listener | {BNHA Fanfiction reading} ASMR Flustered takami x listener https://youtu.be/JVuqL31eNxg

Thanks to the author for letting me use her fiction !! 😭 : https://loisfics.tumblr.com/

SO, during this quarantine period and all I noticed that a lot of you guys had become (more?) depressed. I really hate when people are feeling down because... I mean who deserve that?

If you have, like me troubles sleeping or just you want to pass time and think about other things I created an ASMR YouTube Chanel ( Who is quite a Fanfiction reading Chanel tho) to try to help you cope a little bit : PeachyCan

I am taking request so if you need one of our boys or girls from UA High to tell you they love you or just want a specific scenario, DO NOT HESITATE AND SLIDE INTO THE DM’s you know 😏 Even if you just want to talk or else I would be more than happy to discuss with you all 😘😘

Damn I know there must be a lot of grammatical mistakes in this but hehe English is not my first language so meh 🤓

Hope I can help even if it’s just a little bit so don’t hesitate and share the message, and the Love , PeachyCan.

Just wondering....

So I just recently watched Cruella and Alice in wonderland and i really liked them....

So I was like

Disney Villains are sometimes cool ig

And also so is the Cheshire cat and stuff....

And that lead me here...

Which one(s) would you like to see???

(Yes I'm aware I used some twice:)

Attention span of a squirrel

Shoto Todoroki with an S/O who is very silly

Also seriously pls do not repost or reblog

Warnings: swearing sorta? Uh reader is GN and stuff.

Also the reason I call this 'Attention span of a squirrel' is bc squirrels have the attention span of uhhhhhh

Shoto was hanging from a rope, ankle first and upside down. The rope made him spin around the room very slowly as he felt the blood go to his head.

To make things worse, Shoto was dangling over a pit. It was foggy down there, so he wasn't able to see the bottom.

You both were chosen to go against Aizawa for this project, to see how well you did in a real villain situation.

So far?

Not so great.

Shoto was beginning to feel lightheaded, so he called out to you to try and bring your attention back to the situation.

"L/N." He calls, making you jolt out of your distracted state and back at him. "Hm?" You look up at him. "Oh yeah. Sorry, I forgot." You laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

"Okay...so..." You tap your chin in thought as you stare at the rope wrapped around Shoto's ankle. "If I were me...which I am...then how would I get Shoto out of here?" You jut out your bottom lip slightly, narrowing your eyes as if it would make you think harder.

"I don't mean to rush you," Shoto begins in his usual monotone voice. "But Mr. Aizawa could be approaching." He says, spinning slowly as the rope clings to his ankle.

You don't seem to hear this, as you're staring down at the pit. "Aha! I've got the situation!" You grin confidently, stumbling slightly as you take off your right shoe. Shoto raises an eyebrow, confused to what you were doing.

Then you suddenly throw your shoe into the pit. "One..." And you begin counting. "Two...three....four.....five..." You continue. Shoto feels confused as he stares at you. What the hell were you doing?

"L/N. What are you doing?" He finally asks, eyes still trained on your every move.

After you count to ten, you beam proudly, like you made a shocking discovery. At least, you thought you did.

"Well my icy friend," You begin as you point down into the pit. "We have discovered a bottomless pi-" You were interrupted by a soft 'thud' of your shoe finally hitting the bottom of the pit.

"Oh. Nevermind. Not bottomless, just ten seconds deep."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Shoto asks, tilting his head as best he can. You just turn back and grin at him.

"Well, if I cut you down from there, at least I know how long you'll be falling for!" You beam, like you've solved all world problems.

"Okay, now hold still." You try to reach for the rope, but stumble and almost fall into the pit. "Whoa!" You yelp lightly as the dirt crumbles beneath your feet. Luckily you got out of the way in time.

"Okay! New plan." You clap your hands together. Then, to Shoto's dismay, you begin to pace around the pit. After a while, you grin. Its not an innocent grin, but a mischievous one. Almost Bakugo like.

You suddenly run backwards. Shoto sighs in disappointment, thinking you've given up on him. "How do I-" He stops himself when he looks back at you, now charging at him. "L/N! What are you-"

You grin as you jump off the ledge of the pit, jumping up to grab him. You use a pocket knife to cut the rope in the process so you both don't get stuck.

You and Shoto tumble onto the otherside, landing into a pile of eachother.

Sort of a 69 position.

Quickly, you both pull away and stand up.

Shoto feels embarrassed, looking away from you and not knowing what to say.

That is, until you clear your throat. "So...here." You hand him a small amethyst rock. Maybe you collected it a while ago, or you found it somewhere. Eitherway, you don't really remember.

Shoto tilts his head, looking at the amethyst in your palm, then back at your face. "Whats this?" He asks.

You smile softly, finding his confusion amusing. "A gift! See? Its pretty, like you." You beam. Shoto swears he sees light emitting from you as you smile at him. Shoto gives a small smile in return, and takes the amethyst. "Thank you, L/N." He says, his voice soft.

You laugh softly and place your hands on your hips. "And since I gave you a gift, we're friends now. Is that okay?" You say, even though Shoto doesn't have a choice in the matter.

Shoto puts the amethyst in his pocket. "Okay."

You grin and give him a small thumbs up. "Great! So you have to call me by my first name now, okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay, Y/N."

"Atta boy!"

Shoto smiles softly. He feels a sudden feeling in his chest, snapping him out of his thoughts. He places a hand on his chest, suddenly very confused.

Did my heart skip a beat? Do I have heart problems? Perhaps I should see Recovery Girl after this.... He thought.

Eventually, the day ended, and everyone was heading to their dorm rooms to finally get some sleep.

All except Shoto. He stayed on the green couch in the lounge, staring blankly at the wall, lost in thought.

"We're friends now, so you have to call me by my first name!" Your voice rang in his head like a lullaby.

A week passed, and you and Shoto stared hanging out more. You would say things like:

"Shoto! Do you ever thinks ants get lonely?"

"Shoto! Did you know worms have an asshole?"

"Shoto! Whats your least favorite animal?"

Things that would make him smile, or things that would make him confused. Things that would make him think, or things that would make him surprised.

Every little thing you did made him have a soft and warm feeling in his chest. Shoto, completely oblivious to these feelings, decides to confront his friend, Izuku. One night, everyone is staring to head to bed, when Shoto approaches Izuku.

"Midoriya." He says, staring the conversation. "I need your help."

Izuku tilts his head, looking up at his friend. His green eyes fill with curiosity. "What is it, Todoroki? Is everything okay?" He wonders.

"I think I have heart problems." Shoto says, in earshot for Mina and Ochako to hear.

"WHAT?!" Mina gasps, suddenly very interested to Shoto's conversation with Izuku. Mina and Ochako rush over to them, their eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay, Todoroki? Should we get you to the hospital?" Midoriya asks, standing up as his expression turns to one of concern.

Shoto thinks for a moment, before speaking again. "No. I just feel a warm feeling in my chest, and sometimes my heart skips a beat. Sometimes my face gets hot, even though I try and cool myself down with my left side."

Mina and Ochako's eyes widen. The two beam, leaning ever so closely to Shoto. "Do you feel this way around a certain someone?" Mina says, her voice giddy and excited.

Shoto nods. "Yes, it happens around L/- I mean, Y/N."

Mina and Ochako squeal, while Izuku sighs in relief, glad his friend isn't suffering from any heart failure.

"What? What is it?" Shoto looks at them all, very confused. Did he really have heart problems...?

"Its love!" Mina grabs Ochako's hands, the two of them bouncing around in circles.

"Love..?" Shoto tilts his head. "Yes, Y/N is my friend. I care for them deeply." He nods, confused to why Mina and Ochako were makeing a big deal about this fact.

"No, Todoroki!" Mina looks at him in the eyes as she stops bouncing. "Romantic love." She corrects.

Something in Shoto's brain clicks. "Oh." He says quietly, a soft dusty pink tainting his cheeks.

Shoto began to hang out with you more, staying by your side as you ramble about silly things, or smiling as you show him silly things.

Until one day, Izuku encouraged him to confess.

Shoto asked you to meet him at the courtyard after school, and you did. Shoto took a deep breath, trying to gather his nerves before he spoke to you.

"Y/N." He says softly as he looks into your eyes.

Your beautiful eyes...the ones he could get lost in for hours. The ones he loved staring into.

"I have feelings for you. Romantic ones." He finally says after a moment of silence.

You, being the person you were, holds up a hand for him to high-five. "Dude, no way, that is awesome sauce!" You say.

Shoto looks at you in confusion and disbelief. You suddenly cover your mouth in embarrassment, muttering quiet apologizes.

"Oh god, I'm really sorry, Shoto! It just popped into my head and then my mouth talked and then it all fell apart but what I ment to say was..." You take a deep breath, and look at him in the eyes.

"I love you. Like a lot." You hold out your arms as far as they could go. "If I was able to, I would stretch my arms pur way further but this is as far as they can go. But I really do love you!" You beam.

Shoto chuckles softly at your antics. He suddenly feels...complete.

You smile as well, and lower your hands. Then, you slowly extend your hand out to him to take. Shoto's eyes light up slightly. He slowly take your hand, and you intertwine your fingers with his.

"Now I get to tell people I have my own furnace AND my own cooler!" You grin brightly, making Shoto chuckle again.

He kisses your cheek gently. "Your pretty." He whispers.

And so doofus and doofus 2.0 relationship begins.

🍰Todoroki/Fem Reader SFW & NSFW Headcannons

Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+; continue scrolling or block if you’re not into this

Warnings; cursing, making out, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy (he has a tongue ring in this), ass eating, vaginal fingering, small bit of spanking, Shouto is a little bit subby in this (his moans & some of the things he says), dirty talk, Shouto has a bit of a praise kink, Shouto holds your hands behind your back when you ride him😮‍💨

Authors Note; sorry if this is too long- I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs. Hope you all enjoy these headcannons as much as I enjoyed writing them- if anyone would like a specific MHA character or someone from a different anime, feel free to DM me💕

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, maybe a bit of a dick, but who is actually so sweet & so loving, who is actually the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget them (you found the list in his notes app—you definitely cried), who always buys extra of what he’s eating —so you can have some too (even if you said you weren’t hungry)

Shouto who doesn’t get social cues very well, who tilts his head when he’s confused, who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often, who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, whose smile could actually melt ice with its warmth (Shouto makes the most facial expressions when he’s with you— you take that as a win)

Shouto who you met in high school, but weren’t really friends with— or dated until after you all graduated, who you crossed paths with while battling a villain, who you caught mid air when he was falling from the top of a building, on the verge of passing out (he says he swears he saw you with a halo, because he fell in love with an Angel that day)

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk, who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home, who also brings you a glass when he’s drinking some, because he’s learned he can also show you he loves you by sharing what he likes with you (you think it’s so motherfucking cute when you are handed a glass of milk out of the blue)

Shouto who decides to be a bit rebellious after he gets out of high school, who wants to try new things, who decides to cut his hair shorter, who gets a nose ring, who pierces his ears (not to mention his tongue ring— you almost fainted when you noticed it the first time🥵) who goes with you when you get your own tattoos & piercings—he often wears jewelry that reminds him of you

Shouto who says his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch, when it’s raining, when the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies & napping (if it gets a little X rated, who can judge you😮‍💨)

Shouto who is a fucking dry texter, but who sends you pictures of things he knows you love while he’s out on patrol, especially pics of dogs that he encounters (he even ends up bringing one home for you), who gets so happy when you respond with pictures of things you know he enjoys—sort of making your own language with one another

Shouto who likes to wear more of a streetwear style when he’s not working (to your never ending delight), who likes to wear matching clothes with you (shoes, shirts, even matching colors, etc.), who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear (because it makes him feel like a part of you is with him—you did feel a bit smug, knowing you were technically sitting on his face all day)

Shouto who sucks ass at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart, bitter because you don’t think you’ve ever beaten him, (although whenever you and your friends gather at your home, the highlight of the night is watching Bakugou lose to Sho over & over)

Shouto who has stayed close to Midoriya, considering the man as his brother by extension (you love the green haired man & see him often), who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees (he was nervous he would mess it up—he didn’t)

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings?? (not the only peach he likes to eat👀), who you have woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am (you just take one and go back to sleep), who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere— even your car (you love Shouto so goddamn much)

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn mark, about his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past, who opened up to you—trusting you completely, wanting to share a side of himself others don’t see (you absolutely cried), who you trust in return—telling him everything about yourself & your own past

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, meet his mother, who added you to the group chat with all his siblings (they are actually a lot of fun, even if Shouto only replies with one word answer or gifs), who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents (you tell him it doesn’t matter, because he’s perfect for you either way—that earns you another million watt smile)

Shouto who loves you wholly, deeply, completely, who is your soul mate, who is your best friend, who planted the seed of his love in your heart that has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree, who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself—you’d start a war for this man (he’d do the same)

🍰Warning NSFW Below🍰

Shouto who enjoys kissing, who loves to lazily make out with you, who feels his cock start twitching in his briefs when the kiss starts to get heated & messy, lips slick as they glide together, who gets half hard when your tongue plays with his, whining gently when you tilt your head—flicking the tip of your soft tongue against his

Shouto who likes to lay you on your back in the bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts, who likes to push it up your belly—slowly letting it get caught on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce, who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone as his warm, wet mouth sucks on your nipples, pussy throbbing—no doubt wet as fuck now

Shouto who bites over the skin on your sternum, plush lips trailing down your belly until he gets to your pussy, who grips the bottoms of your thighs pressing them backwards to your chest, who gets onto his belly, looking up at you as he licks a stripe from your folds up to your sweet bud, making sure he swirls the cold metal of his tongue ring on the heated flesh of your clit (immediately you’re gripping the sheets, whimpering fuck Sho! when warm tingles radiate down to your toes)

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out, who moans into your pussy—vibrations you can feel throughout your groin, who makes you squeal when he sucks your clit—tongue ring feeling electric with every swipe of his tongue, who eagerly says pussy tastes s’good Angel, can I eat your ass? pretty please baby? (you flip over immediately)

Shouto who gets you both completely naked, whose cock is standing straight out when you take a look at it, who gets your ass in the air, face shoved into the sheets, who rains his hand down on your ass cheek, pain flaring brightly up to your hip, who gives you no break—gripping the thick flesh of your ass and spreading you open, kitten licking at your asshole (you almost scream—once again the sensations increased ten fold by the contrast of his chilly tongue ring)

Shouto who shoves his middle two fingers in your pussy with no warning, tearing a gasp from your chest, who finger fucks you and sucks on your tight hole until your lower belly tightens, pussy clenching his fingers, cumming hard, who fingers you through your orgasm— stroking his cock as he whines to you Angel your pussy is so fucking tight, wanna fuck you so bad, please can I? (you say yes immediately)

Shouto who knows you’re a pillow princess, who loves it, but has actual hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushed a sweet pink when he’s able to convince you to ride him for a little bit—reverse cowgirl style, who props his back against the headboard with a couple pillows, who pulls your hands behind your back—holding your wrists together in one hand

Shouto who spreads your ass with his free hand, whimpering uncontrollably as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy as you bounce in his lap, whose dick throbs and who sucks in air sharply between clenched teeth when you moan f-fucking hell Sho, your cock is so good, so big, gonna make me cum as you throw your head back

Shouto who can only take it for so long before he pushes you off his cock, manhandling you onto your back whispering in your ear gonna fuck your sweet pussy now, okay Angel? as he grips his shaft, feeling how slippery you’ve gotten his cock, sliding his dick all the way in with one thrust—making you cry out and dig your nails into his shoulders

Shouto who bends you in half, knees hooked over his shoulders as he squishes you into a mating press, who fucks you hard, hips curling up into your sweet spot, making you feel each drag of his cock, cumming within the first five strokes—& then again and again and again, orgasms popping in you like water balloons, pleasure gushing all the way up to your brain

Shouto who chokes on his moans as your slick, warm pussy squeezes his cock over & over, voice low & needy when he whines into your ear Angel please, cum on my cock one more time, need it baby, pretty please-m’gonna cum soon

Shouto who does make you cum one more time, who makes you start to feel dizzy from cumming & the angle you’re pretzeled into, you’re able to focus just enough to speak in between moans, saying Sho, hah—oh fuck! Sho, you’re such a good boy, fuck me so well, love your cock Sho, love you baby boy—who cums instantly when he hears your sweet voice praising him, high pitched, needy sounds falling from his lips as he grinds his hips against your ass, cumming in warm, sticky ribbons

Shouto who makes you feel like you have noodles for limbs, breathing heavy as you both feel giddy with the post orgasm glow, who unravels you slowly, pulling out & letting you spread out like a starfish, who flops down on your side, who lets you collect your thoughts—lacing his fingers with yours as you both relax into the mattress

Shouto who eventually gets up to clean himself, who brings you a warm wash cloth and cleans you, who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties after he gets dressed, who pulls you into a hug—telling you how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face & you do the same—Shouto who goes to the kitchen & then brings you a glass of strawberry milk 💕

DEMON PRINCE SHOUTO AU | MASTERLIST

tags/warnings: modern supernatural au, aged up characters, demons, bonding bites, fem pronoun + afab reader

PART I (1k)

Things seem to going well with the prince of hell you've accidentally taken home. Until a surprise visitor makes an appearance, and Shouto must take action to stake his claim on you.

PART II (1.5k)

You learn just what kind of ancient bond Shouto has invoked to protect you, and come to terms with what that means for your future.

PART III (coming soon)

You learn that a mating bond has its downsides (and its upsides). nsfw.

drabbles will be posted under the tag #third prince of hell au

A Circle of Salt | Fic Cover

Minors and ageless blogs, DO NOT interact.

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x F!Reader

Summary: With the end of the Great War and his father’s death, Prince Shouto must find his and his kingdom’s place in a rapidly changing world. As a result, the Todoroki Kingdom has finally opened its doors to its neighbors after centuries of isolation. You see this as an opportunity to not only advance in your career as a lowly government aid but to also take advantage of the tropical island as your new office space.

However, with the nobility working to maintain their status quo, there’s another reason why it may be difficult for you and Shouto to achieve your goals – the prince seems to have misunderstood what sort of partnership you seek with him.

Read Chapter 1 on AO3!

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother, steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠: For @lorelune's spring fever collab! This fic is a little bit different than my usual fare—part love letter to my hometown, part omegaverse smut, part style experiment—but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! I also want to call out that Reader in this fic is Touya’s contemporary, and is therefore older than Shouto. Everyone is in their 20s and I’ve purposefully left the age difference ambiguous in case the canon gap squicks you out, but please know there is a difference of at least ~3 years implied. 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 21k (estimated)

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖 — april 6

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖 — april 13

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖 — april 20

𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑣 — april 25

↳ read on ao3 (link tba)

DEMON PRINCE SHOUTO AU | MASTERLIST

tags/warnings: modern supernatural au, aged up characters, demons, bonding bites, fem pronoun + afab reader

PART I (1K)

Things seem to going well with the prince of hell you've accidentally taken home. Until a surprise visitor makes an appearance, and Shouto must take action to stake his claim on you.

PART II (1.5K)

You learn just what kind of ancient bond Shouto has invoked to protect you, and come to terms with what that means for your future.

PART III (coming soon)

You learn that a mating bond has its downsides (and its upsides). nsfw.

drabbles will be posted under the tag #third prince of hell au

Magic Shop || S. Todoroki

Summary:

After 'accidentally' getting cursed, you seek the witch of the forest to fix this problem. Only did you not expect a beautiful man to reside there...

Wordcount: 12.4k

Read on AO3

Pairing:

Witch!Todoroki Shoto / GN!Reader

Tags/CW:

witch!shoto, contractual partners to friends to lovers, pining!! lots of pining, aged-up characters, GN reader, honestly mostly vibes in the woods idk what to say, fluff, innuendos, but sfw

Note:

Please note that information about witches may be inaccurate as I was only using my fantasy. And any links are safe!! Also!! This is part of the 'Haunted House Collab' by Willow's House, check out the other works!!

Your hand slaps against the surface of your ringing phone, hoping to silence it with a lucky stroke back to sleep. But that only works for a couple of minutes as it starts once again relentlessly chiming, with no way to stop it. With a groan you remember the infinite number of alarms you had set yourself the night before, your past self too aware of your strong desire to sleep overpowering your need to go to work. So you don’t have a choice, you’d like to keep your job for as long as possible, even with your current sleeping habits.

Slowly you swing your upper body up, and blink blearily, just staring into your room for a couple of seconds, just trying to force you to properly wake up. You take your phone into your hand to stop the still blaring alarm and of course every subsequent alarm after that one. You run your hands over your face, once again trying to wake yourself up before getting up. Shuffling your feet, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up. A good splash in your face does wonders against this fatigue, but only sometimes, so you hope it works today.

It actually helped a bit, your eyes stinging from the direct contact with the flying water. After finishing the rest of your routine, you go back to your room and put your work clothes on, ignoring the crinkles in them, even if your hands mindlessly try to flatten them, they will eventually disappear, hopefully. You just don’t have time nor the patience to iron them out. Nobody is going to notice them underneath a blazer. A last look in the mirror tells you that you do look presentable enough to show up at work. So you grab your necessities and hurry out of the door.

You don’t hurry because you might be late, you just like to be a bit early on the street, never sure what might delay your way, a traffic jam leading every car to link its arms with each other, making any other form of transportation nigh unusable. This especially accounts for you being stuck between arms and torsos of other people, holding for dear life on a pole in the bus, trying your best to avoid falling onto the ground with every rumbling stop.

Your stop draws near, and you’re finally able to leave the suffocating transportation can, you take a second to breathe, to collect yourself once again. The shaking of the bus has almost begun to lull you back to sleep, even if you were standing with hands in a death grip. So you slap both of your cheeks and continue your way to your workplace.

At your arrival, you think that luck must be on your side, as you still have a couple of minutes until your shift starts, enough time to calm down after all that speed walk, and simply drink some water. You put your stuff into the locker and begin your work. And you hope to keep that luck running for the rest of the morning.

But it seems that your luck is already strained thin, as you mess up some of the dates by accident, inconveniencing a visitor at their work. So you hurry up to apologize for this mistake before they can ask for your boss.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. We’ll fix this as soon as possible, so feel free to take a seat, Mrs. Nukarumi,” you offer her with a smile, not moving a muscle as her face shifts at the name-drop. You don’t realize your mistake until she steps closer, a menacing aura clogging your airways. You begin to panic, but you keep your face professional, a smile, a questioning tilt to the head.

“Listen, I can excuse some mishap at work, happens to the best of us. But getting my name wrong, and to such a distasteful degree is arrogant, especially after being quite the regular at your establishment,” she puts two fingers on your forehead, her nails pressing against your skin, and now you drop your smile for a frown, as the shadow of her hand covers your face, suffocating in a way only air can be. “It’s Nakamura, and I’d like to know how you will live your life without a soul ever recognizing you.”

Her fingers begin to feel warmer with each second, and at first, you thought it might be due to the prolonged skin contact. That is until this warmth turns into heat, her fingerprints searing themselves into your skull, your skin non-existent. Some kind of pain spreads all over your facial features, not painful enough to coax out a scream, but enough to make your muscles twitch in response. At this sensation, you try your best to pull away, but you seem to be glued to her fingertips, like she’s holding the strings of your body between her knuckles with this simple touch.

You finally manage to take a step back the moment her fingers leave your skin. She seems to be satisfied with whatever she just did, as a grin spreads over her face as she glances over your face. Mischief is coloring the outlines of her lips before she just leaves without another word, not caring if the situation is fixed any time soon.

For some reason, this is the least of your worries, as you make your way to the bathroom with quick steps in search of a mirror. But the moment you stand in front of one, you can’t see anything wrong with your face, not even a small print of her fingers on your forehead. Everything looks normal and proper to you, so you just shrug it off, keen on returning to your post behind the desk.

On the walk back to your space, you come across the manager, who gives you a weird look, and you glance down at yourself, thinking your clothes might have gotten in disarray. But there’s nothing wrong with them. You still straighten your blazer a bit, which doesn’t seem to help, as he finally comes up to you.

“Excuse me, this area is for staff only,” he tells you with a warning in his voice, and you can only furrow your eyebrows at that.

“Uh, yes, I am a staff. It’s my shift right now,” you reply, confusion tinting your voice.

“Lying is useless in this case, I don’t recognize you, and I know all of my staff.” He shakes his head in some form of disappointment before threatening to call security if you don’t clear the space immediately.

Absolutely confused, you just leave the space, and even the building altogether, just heading home, because what else are you supposed to do? You got kicked out by your boss, for some strange reason, and nothing makes sense to you.

What did he say again? He doesn’t recognize you? That’s the wildest reason to kick someone out, ever. Does he want to fire you, or is he pulling some kind of elaborate prank or scheme? You honestly don’t care, you just hope you still get paid for your work.

As you have some time to spare, for obvious reasons, you decide to take a short trip to the store to get yourself some groceries, and maybe you could chat a bit with your acquaintance there, letting a couple of minutes pass in idle talk.

So you enter the store and begin collecting whatever your heart desires, and whatever your wallet allows you, before making your way to the register, where your almost friend works. You smile and greet them, hoping to be able to listen to whatever gossip they have at the moment. But they only give you the usual customer service smile, the usual greeting voice, no recognition sparking in their eyes at all.

Your chest constricts and you try to think of what you might have done to offend them, yet nothing seems to be the problem. And you could hardly bother them while they’re working, so you leave the place without inquiring any further about any possible reason.

Trudging home, you can’t help but wonder if you had done something for all of this to happen. There’s no way this day is filled with one unlucky incident after the other. There’s no correlation for this bad luck, you started your day as you do every single day. The only weird moment was with that weird woman, who just grabbed your face for no reason. But whatever she did, it didn’t work, you checked yourself in the mirror and everything looked fine to you, normal. So why does it seem like no one can recognize you?

You enter your home as the final puzzle clicks, and everything makes sense, well barely. A gasp escapes you at this revelation, and you almost throw your groceries onto the table, grabbing for your phone. With a frown, you open the front camera, seeing yourself, with every feature you know and are used to. Maybe the effect is similar to the one with a mirror?

You decide to take a picture of yourself, not focusing much on looking good, but rather on verifying your thoughts. After you take one where you’re sure your whole face can be seen, you open the gallery to click on the newest picture. But instead of a picture, you’re faced with a blurred mess. Did your hands tremble? There’s no way they moved that much while you took the picture. Still, you take another one, and another one, and another one. And all of them turn out to be blurry.

Chewing on your bottom lip you scroll further to some of the older pictures you have on your phone and they all look normal, your face still visible and clear. So there’s only one conclusion: only the ones you took today have that particular problem, so that means the woman had actually done something unexplainable to you.

With a sigh you put your phone away, driving your hand over your face. You screwed up, you accidentally messed up with the wrong person today, and now you reap the consequences. What are you supposed to do now? How could you even undo this? You can’t go to work if no one recognizes you, and you can’t just not work! You’re ruined, your life will be in shambles over a little mistake, this is so ridiculous.

Panic is running hot through your veins and you do what every sensible human being would do in such a dire situation. You take your phone and look it up, even if you don’t know how to phrase the problem properly. So it isn’t surprising when the first couple of hits you stumble across are different subreddits and medical pages about loneliness. But no matter how far you read into those, there is just no correlation between them and your current problem.

Thus, you dive deeper and you discover some shady-looking forum, all small font and 2000s style of blogging, in which you read a rather recent post.

Does the witch in that forest actually exist? Cuz I heard rumors, but no one has shown real pics smh. If yes, how do you meet them? Like, I wanna get some potions or stuff, idk

– i guess that’s one way to touch grass – that’s some witchful thinking LMAO – ofc, u just gotta go that fb page, there’s proof

Your curiosity gets the best of you and you click on the link, which turns out to be a rickroll. You don’t know if you’re supposed to laugh or groan in frustration. The only upside of this is that you had gotten some form of lead to… something. You’re not quite sure what the whole witch thing is about, but if there’s smoke, there must be a fire. At least you hope so, because it’s the only thing that could solve your problem at the moment. You’re pretty sure the woman put some kind of curse or spell on you, there’s no other way to achieve this kind of effect.

Naturally, you’re going to look for that witch now. You have quite some free time left, so maybe there is some upside to that too…

Trying to be positive about the whole predicament, you trade your current clothes for something more robust, something suitable to endure a visit to the forest. The place mentioned in the post isn’t that far from your living place, so you plan to walk there, getting some blood running to prepare you for the worst.

With a bottle, your phone, and whatever is necessary for your trip, you leave the building. Your phone in hand, you try to discover the fastest way to these woods to avoid losing time.

Finally arriving at the entrance of the forest, you decide to take the already existing paths, leisurely walking along them. And you have to admit it has taken you some time to realize something important in your current endeavor: there’s no way a witch is going to be living on the equivalent of a main street of the forest. No one would do that if they’re actively trying to get by without notice, and witches don’t want people to know where they live. That’s like, their lore or something.

This makes sense, and you nod to yourself, convinced by your own logic before you step off the path. At first, you paid attention to where you put your foot down, careful to not destroy any plants or to get stuck somewhere. But after a while, you simply forget to look at the ground and where you’re going. As a result it shouldn’t be a big surprise when one of your feet gets caught in something, you’re not quite sure what, because the moment you topple over you immediately begin to roll down a hill.

Scrunching your face, you brace yourself for the upcoming impact, hoping sincerely you won’t get knocked against a rock or a stump, breaking something or injuring you in any other way.

Nothing happens. Slowly the rotations come to a stop and you feel your back thud against the ground one last time, even if you still feel the turbulence in your head.

After taking a couple of seconds to get your head straight, you hesitantly open your eyes, only to glance at the face of another person. And for a moment you feel like nothing is real, he’s beautiful. Soft plush lips, slightly agape in surprise, eyes widened and sparkling in the early afternoon sun, and you need to look a couple of times back to notice the different colors, gray and blue, a storm separated from its lightning. His lashes brush against his smooth skin on one side, and against a burn mark on the other, as he blinks, trying to understand what just happened.

You immediately close your eyes again, hoping to fool him into thinking you had passed out, even if he probably saw you staring at his face like a fish out of water.

A slight chuckle, air fanning over your face, tells you that he is no fool. So you have no other choice but to take a breath and to slowly sit up, avoiding looking into his eyes with all your might, even if you’re compelled to look at him just a while longer.

Instead, you start looking around and you notice that you have fallen onto the edge of a beautiful meadow, flowers sprouting all around you, colors bursting underneath the late afternoon sun. The wind dancing between the petals. The delightfulness of this place fills you in awe, and it only grows bigger when you glance back at him, seeing the perfect man sitting underneath the rays of the sun, the wind ruffling his red and white hair playfully. You think about how it feels to touch this cloud in the afternoon sun.

That is until you finally register his gaze lingering on you. Your eyes widen in surprise and you can’t look him in the face anymore, once again. Nerves get the best of you, as you realize that he must have caught you staring at him and you fiddle with your fingers before you gather some courage to talk to him.

“Uhm, sorry for that, heh… You might be wondering why I’m here, and honestly you won’t even remember me when I’m gone, which is for the best I’m not going to lie. But I still wanted to ask, and I know it’s a weird question, but honestly, my whole day has been so weird, you can’t even believe it. What I mean is, do you happen to know where maybe, just maybe, where the witch of this forest is? I kinda got into that situation and I need help…” After getting everything off your chest, you take a second to take a breather.

“Oh, yes, I know where the witch is–”

“Really? Wow, that’s cool, rad, cool, cool! Oh, do you mind telling me? That would be awesome, for real,” you interrupt him, leaning forward in an outburst of excitement, once again just staring at his face

“No, I don’t mind. It’s simple really. The witch is here,” he answers, and if you’d known it better, you could have sworn to see some mischief glinting in his eyes.

But you’re too distracted, squinting your eyes trying to see anyone else in this open meadow. The witch can’t be hiding in such an open space, so you turn around to look behind you.

You jut your lips out when you couldn’t see anyone in the near distance. “Where? There’s no one here?”

The corners of his lips raise slightly. “Well, because we’re the only two people here, the best conclusion is that I’m the witch, is it not?”

You can only nod slowly, mouth agape and eyes roaming over his figure once again. Now that he mentions it, if you focus a bit on his blue eye, the one seemingly illuminating and softening his scar, you could discern symbols circling his iris, whispering secrets only he is to know.

It takes you a moment to bring these two concepts together, as this turn of events just swept you over in a cold rush. Even if you’re going to be honest with yourself, what did you expect? Some beautiful woman with long black hair, miraculously emerging from the waters of some shallow pond? This probably is your sign to read less fantasy… Does it count as fantasy if witches are apparently real?

You blink and push this thought away, this is really not the time to contemplate the structure of your world. So you take a breath, trying to formulate your thoughts more coherently this time.

“Oh, okay. Uhm, so… hold on, no, how am I supposed to call you? Because there’s no way I’m calling you a witch for, I don’t know how long, but that doesn’t matter… Uhm,” you veer off topic before just introducing yourself in the same breath.

Wow, you did amazing, you should pat yourself on the shoulder, because how can someone start at a point and finish at the wrong place? You bite on your bottom lip, slightly crunching your face. But the moment he says your name, the strain seems to melt off, you’re so taken aback by how elegant your own name sounds from his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, I suppose you can call me Shoto.”

With a nod, you do your best to memorize his name and to replace the imaginary picture of a witch with a replication of him, sitting between the flowers, and you’re aware that your memory could never truly replicate this look, this moment; it always be something faded compared to this, and you curse your insufficient brain capacities. Until you remember the actual reason you came looking for him.

“So, Shoto. I need your help, you know, as the witch, because, uh, I don’t know if you noticed already, but I guess someone cursed me? For some reason. Unrelated to anything really…” you laugh nervously and avoid his gaze “Like no one is able to recognize me, which is weird! I look normal in mirrors, but not in pictures? And, uh, see, I kinda need my face to work, you know? Is there something you could do to help me? You’re my last resort, pretty please?” You had hurried to explain your reasons for arriving at this place before the silence between you could even start, or worse, before he got the time to just stand up and leave.

He leans back and his eyes glance over your face, examining you, and you notice how the contrast between his eyes seems to grow for a moment; one almost glowing eerily while the other darkens to reach the depth of the universe. It feels like you’re in the presence of a supernova, a star about to burst by its seams.

But the moment he blinks with a nod the moment is gone, almost like it never was any different. At least he looks like he found whatever he’s looking for, the curse probably.

“I will help you. But in exchange I do need you to aid me in the time it takes me to break this particular spell,” he sets his condition and slightly cocks his head to the side, waiting for your response.

A wide grin splits your face as he agrees to help you. excitement thrumming through your veins at the prospect of working with an actual witch, and even getting rid of this problem altogether. But you still take your time to weigh the choices in your head.

You don’t really have another choice, do you? Because if you refuse, what are you supposed to do? It’s either you help him with his potions, whatever that requires of you, you’re ready to even give your blood for this, or you just suffer for the rest of your life under this horrid curse of unrecognition. Even if you have to admit that this condition of yours could be a real killer in the shady business of the underground, assassinations, break-ins, or whatever illegal activities they entertain. No one would ever be able to catch you, as you practically have no face to be identified by. If you only possessed more usable skills to pursue this potential path of corruption, but you don’t. So you only truly have one choice left.

You readily agree to his terms, on your own condition, you want to be able to go home at the end of the day. You’d like to enjoy your sleep if you involuntarily have to miss work. With the same reasoning, you promise him to come back tomorrow before you’re already on your way home. You hadn’t noticed how late it already was, because the meeting didn’t feel like it took hours off your day. But who are you to judge the sun for packing up a bit earlier, at least it’s still bright enough for you to walk on your own. And on your trek home, you see his captivating eyes every time you blink, almost being able to feel the difference in temperature, coals and ice, hot and cold.

They haunt you, no matter how often you shake your head to get rid of them. You do have bigger problems to concentrate on. But your worries vanish once you land on your bed, all washed up and in clean clothes. The short hike seems to have taken a toll on you, or maybe the revelation of the whole situation, as you fall asleep as soon as you could even think of sleep.

The next morning you wake up all sore, and you whine into your pillow, already despising the possibility, the simple thought of getting up. Yet you sit up and grab your phone to tell your boss that you’re sick. Which technically isn’t a lie, if something does belong in that section, then it’s a curse for sure, and it’s the best option to not get kicked out again, or fired for not showing up to work.

With that you pat yourself on the back for finding a solution to that particular problem, and for giving yourself at least a week to solve this mess. If it doesn’t work out by then, you’d have to get a doctor’s notice, and you honestly doubt that a doctor can diagnose you with this if they even can recognize anything in the first place.

One problem out of the way, you go through your morning routine to head out to start solving the main problem. You put on some proper clothes for this trip, and this time you’re not keen on not tumbling down a hill, and being aware of the hill in the first place will definitely make it a lot easier.

The way to the meadow turns out to be a lot easier once you know the way, and as a consequence, you gain fewer bruises on the way down. You’re glad for that because the ones you earned yesterday throb every time they get touched, even by the barest breeze. But you will survive this horrendous pain, everything to reach your goal of getting rid of this curse.

If only everything is as easy as you wish it to be. Because the moment you arrive at the border of the meadow, you encounter another problem: Shoto isn’t here today.

You curse under your breath while glancing around the empty open space. What are you supposed to do now? You can’t just walk aimlessly and shout his name into the darkness of the woods. That would be stupid, you don’t know what lurks in its insides, and you’d like to avoid disturbing the wildlife and him, probably, if he is actually living in this forest.

Should you just take a seat in the middle of the meadow? Would he be able to see you from wherever his residence is? Once again you curse, but this time at your inability to plan forward, because you really should’ve asked for some details, but for some reason, his agreement seemed enough for you to just up and leave. Now it is obvious how you didn’t think any of this through.

With a sight, you lightly kick the ground. After you take one last look over the meadow, you decide to walk up the borders of the open space in hopes of finding some sort of hint about his possible whereabouts.

It takes you some time to come across a small river, water glistening clearly under the sun. and you decide to follow it on a whim. Honestly, this is probably the next best thing, because everyone needs some form of water, and this forest has no lake, so the river makes absolutely sense.

The flowing water leads you deeper into the woods, but you can’t actually get lost if you just follow the river in the opposite direction, so you’re not really worried about that.

This decision turns out to be the right one because after some time you spot a cottage in the near distance. Surrounded by bushes and the ivory sparkles under the rays of the sun breaking through the ceiling of leaves. As you step closer, leaving the river behind, you’re able to see the veranda filled with all different kinds of plants in pots, hanging, standing, thriving. You think you can even discern some form of garden on the other side of the building, but you decide to stop in front of the door rather than visit that small space. Who knows how a witch is able to protect their place.

Before you even think about knocking, you note how this place doesn’t look like what you expect of a lair, but honestly, you don’t have any other visual than the gingerbread house, and to be fair, that’s a fairytale and as much as Shoto looks like he came straight out of one, there’s no connection between these two. Not that it matters, you’re certainly not a kid, so you doubt he would eat you, which is unlikable in the first place.

You raise your fist to finally knock on the wood of the door, but before your knuckles could even connect with it, the door actually opens, and you make eye contact with Shoto. You slowly lower your fist and notice how he’s holding a basket in his hand, eyebrows raised in silent surprise. For a moment you both just look at each other in confused surprise until he finally starts speaking.

“Oh, good morning. I didn’t expect you to be here so early. Come in,” he steps aside to fully open the door, inviting you into his home.

With hesitation you step inside, looking around as curiosity tempts you with its soft claws. A smell of a mix of herbs wafts in front of you as you inhale. There is a small seating arrangement, a loveseat, a sofa, an armchair, all resting on top of a soft carpet, inviting you to sit on the ground and enjoy some tea or read a book.

Connected to that space is an open kitchen, to which he heads to, and you hurry to follow his lead. It takes you a moment to take your shoes off, so you can’t help but follow his path carefully, too scared to accidentally disturb this calm space of his.

His home seems rather normal, but once again, what did you expect? Some kind of massive cauldron, some random stuff hanging off the ceilings, or body parts in a mysterious liquid? You should’ve expected this, this is just a normal cottage in the depths of the forest, the only exceptional thing, or person, is Shoto, and you don’t mean him being a witch.

Once you arrive in the space of the kitchen, he motions you to sit at the table, and you do, your expectations getting the best of you and waiting for some form of grimoire to thud onto the table. But nothing of that sort happens, he just sits on the opposite side, leaning his chin in his hand and just looks at you with slightly furrowed brows and a small pout on his lips.

You try your best to stay silent, even if the urge to say something is getting stronger with the second, but you withstand his piercing gaze resting on your hot skin. You bite on your tongue to swallow your question down. Especially when his eyes begin to emit a low light once again, all stormy weather, dark clouds shrouded in lightning.

It abates the moment he hums. “I see. Well, I guess I am able to undo this spell, but we both don’t know anything about the workings of the spell, it probably will take me some time to fix the proper counterspell. For that, I need your presence. Should we get started?” He leans back, his eyes glowing under the sunlight, but this time it feels a lot softer, less like magic and more like a fairy tale.

The next thought you have is filled with indignation because he just assumed you don’t know anything about the spell. Well you don’t, but it’s about the assumption itself, not the fact that you have no idea about this craft. So you can’t really say anything in your defense, because there’s nothing to defend but your pride, and it’s not worth it at the moment.

“Sure thing, but I have to let you know: I know how that woman put this spell on me, and… uh…” you start confidently, only to peter out, not knowing how to continue this trail of thought.

Despite that, he does seem surprised by that in some way, indicated by the way his eyebrows shoot up. “Is that so? Would you mind telling me?”

You almost think to hear some sort of accusation in his tone, but you have no reason or idea why that might be. So you just shrug it off before delving into a short explanation of the events that had occurred to you, until you recount the first meeting with him. Of course, there are some details you omit, because you’d rather not embarrass yourself in front of such a graceful person, because he’s a witch, not because you think he’s so beautiful you might turn blind if you look at him for an extended period of time, that would be ridiculous. Also, telling him about your fall is just unnecessary to the plot of this story, isn’t it?

He nods, eyes telling you that he realizes the omission, but he doesn’t comment on it. At least he seems like he understands more about the situation than you, simply from the description of whatever she had done to you, from whatever you had felt.

“This does help quite a bit. Doesn’t make the process much faster, just easier. Not that it matters, I’m qualified to undo this spell either way.” He stands up and begins to open the cabinets, rummaging through their insides before pulling out a notebook and a pen.

There’s no way this is his spellbook. The place where he keeps his most secret, most important spells. It looks like any ordinary notebook from the store, and it probably is, considering how normal everything looks. Maybe he has a special way of safekeeping?

You squint and stare at the notebook, trying to discover something hidden, but the only thing you see is how Shoto is writing some stuff down, the signs clear and elegant.

Only occasionally does he look up, eyes roaming over your face without sitting still on anything in particular. You doubt he could even if he wanted to.

And now your thoughts wander to the possibility that he would actually want to look at you, how his gaze would soften when caressing your skin, the sun sparkling against his dual-colored eyes, making them glisten with adora–

No, you have to stop here, or you’re not going to survive his presence in the upcoming brewing sessions. Healing sessions… Yeah, healing sessions, because he’s healing your hurt ego, getting rid of your predicament. There’s nothing else to call them. Uncursing? Spell Deletion? No, that sounds ridiculous. Healing sessions sound like some form of therapy, and being in the forest is kind of therapeutic, well, his presence sure is. Not that the name matters, you’re never going to talk about it with anyone, ever.

You blink a couple of times to come back to reality, only to make eye contact with him and your breath hitches. You do your best to act casual and prop your elbow onto the back of the chair but you slip and you have to catch yourself with a jerk.

A nervous laugh escapes you and you lean back, crossing your arms in front of your chest to get rid of your fidgeting. You avoid looking into his eyes this time, focusing on the fringe falling onto his forehead, red and white braiding into each other seamlessly.

He doesn’t even bother to say anything about what just happened and just goes straight to business. “Here’s what we’re going to do in the next few days,” he starts explaining like you just didn’t utterly embarrass yourself in front of him. “I doubt a counterspell will work without consequences because we don’t know the exact working of your curse, even if I have a good idea of it. Still, I don’t want to risk it, so I’m simply going to brew a potion, which will wear it out until it disperses on its own. That means we have to go out and collect some necessary materials. We’re going to do that later though, as there are some preparations I have to make first.”

With that, he closes his notebook and leaves it on the table as he stands up. He motions you to follow him and you leave the house at his heels.

Outside he pulls some sort of platter from below a table and hands it to you before he kneels on the ground in front of a pot in the form of a long rectangle. Inside it is a green plant, stalks spreading out like rays of the sun, leaves tiny and feather-like.

“These are Maidenhair Ferns, also called The Hair of Venus. They could have some effect on your current condition, but we have to dry them first for their potency to unfold. I’m going to take care of the cutting of the plant and I ask you to put them neatly onto the platter. That way we can continue our work at a faster rate,” he explains, his gaze only brushing over you before leading his focus back onto the plant in front of him.

You nod, even though you’re not sure he could register this movement with the way he’s intently looking at the leaves of the ferns. You still take a seat by his side and put the big plate on your lap, ready to receive the first leaves and stems.

At first there isn’t a lot for you to do, so you’re busy looking around, taking in the sights of the forest, enjoying the sun on your face, but soon enough you start taking the stalks filled with neat leaves and arrange them properly on the plate, trying to avoid stacking them as much as possible.

Luckily, he doesn’t pick that many plants for you to even begin thinking of that possible problem too much. With a platter covered with just the right amount of leaves, he finally turns around to face you.

“We need to pluck the leaves from the stem because each part is different, and will need a different time to properly dry. We only need the leaves for the potion, but I’d hate to waste the rest,” he murmurs, his long, nimble fingers already running along the stem of one of the plants, picking the leaves off with careful fingertips, barely staining his nail beds in the process.

You proceed to take one fern in your hand, trying your best to imitate him and to rip the leaves at the right spot and not rip them apart accidentally. Sticking your tongue slightly between your teeth in concentration, you manage to not destroy the first fern, even if the process has gotten a bit messy, your fingers turning slightly green. You begin to understand why people who garden have a ‘green thumb’.

You both work in a comfortable silence for some time, simply enjoying the repetitive motion. Before you even dare to think about standing up, you both make sure that everything is properly separated and not layered. Just then you stand up and follow him around the corner to some sort of backyard. You reckon this is the place you glanced at earlier. There’s a table standing out in the open, and he motions you to put the platter you were carrying onto its surface. In that position, the sun is going to dry them for you, essentially doing the work for you.

The moment your hands are free, you get the urge to stretch into the rays of the sun, your blurry, lidded gaze glancing over the edge of the open space between the bushes. And that’s where you spot it. A beautiful deer.

With a silent gasp, you blindly try to tap Shoto on the shoulder, accidentally brushing against his jaw in your hurry. Normally you would apologize, but you don’t dare tear your eyes away from the deer, much less make a noise, in fear of it disappearing without a trace. The doe, you correct yourself, as it lacks any form of horns.

“Oh,” you hear Shoto say softly under his breath, finally spotting the deer too.

For a moment you both just stay silent, not daring to even move too much, simply enjoying the mesmerizing sight of a doe under the shining sun, framed by the lush green of the forest. That is until the deer just turns around and jumps away like it just doesn’t care about you both just staring at it in awe.

You release a small puff of air, some tension releasing as you had been too caught up in the moment. Turning around in his direction, you regret even breathing the second you lock eyes with Shoto, his face closer to you than you had anticipated. It seems like you both have moved closer in that short moment, huddling together for some reason at the mere sight of the doe.

Your eyes jump over his dark eye to the lightning blue one, electrifying you like a summer storm, and you wonder if he’s gotten hit by lightning itself, resulting in these mesmerizing eyes, and the scar around that bright eye, the only blemish on his smooth, soft looking skin. Maybe it’s connected to his powers, to these symbols deep inside the blue, unreadable to you.

To avoid staring at his scar, your gaze travels over his high cheekbones to his plumb lips, and you could almost imagine them quirking slightly, the moment before he reveals a true laugh of joy out of his soul. This thought startles you and you immediately take a step back, bumping into the corner of the table.

A low whimper escapes as you double over, clutching your wounded side in a dramatic manner. At least now you’ve got a reason to avoid looking at him, to avoid getting lost in all these daydreams about him and…

“Are you okay? Did you hit a sensitive spot?” he asks, worry tinting his voice as he puts his hand softly on your back.

You nod at first before you begin to shake your head, these two questions colliding in your head, all while you try to ignore the possible innuendo. If you step into that territory of thought, you might as well run into the woods and bury yourself in some random cave, to never face him again.

The pain slowly abates after you take a couple of breaths to calm yourself down. It’s going to form a bruise, which isn’t that big of a deal, but you wish it wouldn’t feel like something had impaled your guts.

Straightening up, you show him a thumbs up, even if his slightly furrowed eyebrows and jutted lips show that he isn’t quite convinced. But he doesn’t look like he’s going to fight you over that, so his hand leaves your back. The spot is suddenly so cold, and you can’t help but miss the warmth of his skin, even through clothing.

You try your best to divert his attention away, and maybe yours too, as you look around, in particular to avoid looking at his face. You spot some form of wooden fence, probably a small garden, and you step in its direction with a craning neck to see what he could have planted there.

“Oh, is that a garden? What did you put there? Do you sustain yourself like that? How do you know what soil to use for what plant? Are these to eat or just for your potions?” These questions pour out of your mouth, the perfect distraction for you both as you don’t have to pull out some random question out of nowhere. And you’re genuinely interested.

He seems to have noticed your attempt at distraction according to his rising eyebrows, but he still indulged you and steps closer to the high edge of the garden and you join him close behind him.

With a soft voice he starts explaining the use of each herb, each fruit and plant, patiently pointing toward them, all while mentioning neat little details, like their harvest season, how picky certain plants are. And you can’t help but be captivated by his knowledge and the way he shares it. Even if you sometimes break out of the immersion of his voice when your eyes begin to roam over his face instead of listening.

Time passes with you both kneeling in the soft grass and inspecting the little space filled with love. You only notice how late it has gotten with the way your eyelids feel heavy, your gaze unfocusing and hazy. And as much as you’d love to just take a nap in the middle of the grass under this beautiful weather, you have to get home before that.

So with a goodbye and a promise to return tomorrow, you make your way home, the way easier to walk as your body starts to memorize the path. You could say you could find the way to the cottage in your sleep with how tired you currently feel.

It’s no wonder you barely remember getting ready for bed, much less going to sleep because your brain is practically already out of commission before that happens.

The next day you wake up with a satisfied groan. You’ve never felt this refreshed in your life before, and when you glance at the time, you startle, realizing why. You’ve overslept, you’re late for work! You immediately stand up, heart beating a frenzy in your chest and your arms tremble slightly. With a sudden rush, you remember how you had taken sick leave just yesterday, and you slump back onto your bed.

With a shaken sigh, you sink back into your pillow. You could have slept a bit more, but it seems like your internal clock was keen on terrorizing you today. And with that rush of adrenaline, you might as well stay up and get ready to visit Shoto today.

You take your time to eat breakfast and just enjoy the silence of your home before you make yourself ready for the way. You also check on the state of your food, in case you need to get some groceries. But you don’t, so you clean your place a bit before heading out.

And once again you step through the same path you’ve been visiting the last few days, and you wonder if it would inevitably become some sort of established path with the amount of walking you’ve been doing between the same couple of trees. Maybe you should start changing the route a bit the next couple of times.

You arrive in front of his door and this time you’re able to knock on the door before it’s ripped open, and you startle by the look Shoto throws out of the door, all narrow eyes and downturned lips, almost resembling a snarl. You hesitate in asking if something is wrong. His eyes blink before recognizing you, in the widest sense, and his whole face seems to almost soften. With no exchange of words, he steps to the side and opens the door for you to step in.

Mirroring the day before, he makes way for the table and sits down, waiting for you to do the same. And you do, because you’ve been walking closely behind him.

His notebook is already open on the surface of the table, and he leans slightly forward. “The leaves of yesterday still need some time to fully dry, so today we should go out and collect some other stuff I mentioned yesterday. Is that alright with you?”

You would do anything to get rid of that curse on your face, so of course it’s alright with you, and you nod to show him that. He also nods in confirmation before closing his notebook and grabbing a basket to put whatever you will collect today inside.

While he is doing that, you hurry to the door to open it up for him, even bowing slightly with a grin across your face and the moment he passes by you, you think to see a small smile on his lips, amusement sparkling clearly in his face.

After closing the door behind you, you follow him to take his side as he ventures deeper into the forest. His steps are purposeful, and you’re sure he knows where to find the target material. Still, you wish you could help with whatever he’s looking for, but you doubt you would be able to recognize it even if he told you the name of it. Despite that, you’re happy to listen when he starts talking, explaining what he’s looking for.

“I have some vague idea of what could help against your current ailment. Right now, I’m looking for a Bird’s Eye…” he trails off as he seems to have spotted something.

This revelation confuses you. What does he mean with a Bird’s Eye? Is he going to pluck the eyeballs of some poor bird? Is that something he usually does? He doesn’t seem like the person to entertain such thoughts. You want to ask him if there’s another way, but he had vanished between some bushes.

You swallow down the tremble in your throat and fight through the shrubbery to catch up to him. You emerge a couple of steps next to the spot he’s bending over. With some paces to place yourself at his side, only to see him hold some sort of purple plant delicately between his fingers. Petals growing upward the long stem to a soft point. A lavender plant… A Veronica… And suddenly you feel stupid for still assuming something without real proof. Still, you can’t help the relieved breath you let out.

Straightening up, Shoto shoots you a look, all hidden crinkles, and creasing eyes, almost like he’s making fun of you, like he’s amused at your obvious relief. “Seems like you had expected something else, didn’t you?” he asks, his gaze resting somewhere on your cheek.

“Uh, what else am I supposed to think? Telling me, ‘oh yeah, we need some bird’s eye’, doesn’t sound like, I don’t know, like you’re about to pluck an eyeball? How am I– hold on, did you do that on purpose?” you gasp at your own accusation. “You did! That’s so mean of you, I can’t believe you would use my trust like that!”

You pout slightly, even if you doubt he could see it properly, so you cross your arms in front of you to show your stance on things right now, even if you’re aware that you look overly dramatic. But that’s the point.

Your stance doesn’t seem to affect him, because you suddenly hear a light chuckle escape his lips, and when you glance at his face, you can clearly see how his lips quirked up in a silent laugh, all soft and delicate.

While you’re staring at him, you’re suddenly glad he can’t see your face clearly, because you probably look stunned, amazed, stupefied, and every other word to describe the way your eyes widen and your mouth standing slightly agape.

His eyes wander over your face, eyebrows scrunched up as if he wants to see whatever the fog is hiding behind that blur. Whatever he’s looking for doesn’t seem to be there, because the frown only deepens before he turns back to the flower in his hand, putting it carefully into the basket.

“These are the flowers we’re looking for. Do you mind picking some up?” he asks, already doing so himself, inspecting each one carefully to only select the ones most fitting.

You nod and diligently begin to pick the ones you seem worthy, collecting them into some sort of bouquet in your other hand. After a while, your hand is barely able to hold onto more, and you’re quite content with the look of your makeshift bouquet. Not being able to resist the urge, you tap him on the shoulder and hold it under his nose.

“Please accept this!” you say dramatically, acting like you just confessed your undying love to him, but you couldn’t stay serious long enough to wait for his response, especially after seeing his raised eyebrow. You burst into laughter. “Sorry, sorry! I just thought it looked like a bouquet, so–”

“Oh, so you wanted to offer me the Eye of a Bird? How romantic,” he drawls, his mouth puckered and eyebrows high on his forehead. Only the gleam in his eyes seems to betray his serious stance.

You nod with a muffled giggle. “The peak of modern romance, of course! You deserve nothing less than the best.”

He takes the flowers from your outreached hand and inspects them, acting too critical of your offering before nodding in approval. “I shall accept these, but only this time.”

You gasp, a hand over your heart. “Only this time? My good sir, then I shall prepare something more glamorous, something you can’t refuse for the next time!” you declare with a boisterous voice and a puffed chest.

Once again his lips purse in consideration. “Well, I don’t know if this is possible, there won’t be a next time, that’s for certain. You shan’t woe me this easily.”

“We shall see how this turns out,” you puff with arrogance, only to break down in little giggles.

The moment you break the immersion, he too breaks his facade with a broad smile, pearly teeth on display and eyes crinkling with happiness and mischief. With the breeze ruffling his hair he looks like the image of pure bliss.

His obvious happiness makes you smile, and you have to catch yourself before you let out a dreamy sigh. You have no other choice but to break the line of sight, lest you do something you might regret, especially with the way your insides feel all soft and malleable at his sight, full, ready to give something to always enjoy the way he seems to be in such peace. But you can’t give in, no matter how much your heart seems to plead with your senses. You should not do this, you shouldn’t even think like this in the first place.

So you redirect all your focus into picking the perfect flowers, paying close attention to the details. With that, you both slowly fill the basket, and before you know it, the evening sun is shining through the leaves, putting everything in a soft orange glow.

The full basket has gotten quite heavy and you both decide to share the burden, each one of you grabbing a side of the handle to carry it together. This arrangement is there to make it easier for you both, so no problems should arise. Even if the path you’re taking is narrow in some passages and trying to get through them together, side by side, his shoulder ends up bumping, brushing against yours more often than not. And every time this contact happens, you do your best to not flinch away or to think too closely about the warmth he radiates; avoiding leaning closer to him than you already are.

Finally, you arrive at the cottage and you feel like you have lost all breath in your lungs, most of it evaporating by the simple look at him, by the simple brush. Despite needing some space, you continue to help him carry the basket to some sort of designated space inside the house. And once you get rid of that weight, you stretch your arms above your head, hearing a silent yet satisfying crack.

Feeling the need to rest outside, even if you just were under the open sky, you take some slow steps out of the door, because you desperately need a moment to breathe without being scared of brushing against him.

That’s how you end up sitting on his veranda. The sun had already set and darkness is swallowing the forest, which is now filled with entirely new noises and movements. Despite the lack of light and the unknown biting at your toes, you don’t feel unsafe or in danger, rather the silence and the cool breeze have a calming effect on you.

With a roaming look into the sky, you notice the amount of stars visible against the deep blue of the night. Without any trees obstructing your sight and no artificial lights destroying their twinkle, you can’t help but be entranced with them. You’re so fixated on their beauty that you almost miss Shoto taking a seat by your side.

For a moment you both stay silent, arm against arm, shoulder against shoulder, knee brushing a thigh, and this time you don’t even dare to hold your breath. You feel the desire to lean against him, to feel his breath flutter against your skin. But you’re satisfied with this moment, with the way he seems to glow under the stars, giving him a halo of silver light.

Only because you’ve been staring at him do you notice when he stretches his hand into the sky and lets his finger connect individual stars into constellations. You squint, trying to see the lines from your perspective but you struggle a bit as everything is shifted, so you don’t even know which stars are connected despite following the way his finger moves.

He seems to notice your struggle, as he scoots closer, his front now almost touching your back, his head hovering over your shoulder to get down to your height. After settling like that he carefully grabs your fingertips and waits for you to pull away or to react in any way to show him your rejection, but you don’t. You rather marvel at how soft his skin feels against yours in that feather-light touch.

His hand leads your fingers to make a fist with only your index finger pointing out. With your hand like that, he rests his palm against the back of your hand, on your wrist. Positioned like that he slowly begins to show you the constellations with your own finger, all while making sure it’s visible from your perspective. While guiding you, he softly murmurs their names and the planets and stars, explaining everything and yet nothing, because you’re almost too focused on his breath against your face, the way his chin brushes against your shoulder, and you try your best to not turn around to directly face him.

After some time you do begin to relax and to enjoy all this information and the light contact. You end up leaning against his torso, his cheek resting on your head, and you both remain like that for some time, simply soaking in the presence, the silence and the warmth between you.

So it’s no wonder how you barely notice the atmosphere wrapping around you, lulling you into something peaceful and welcoming.

You only notice how gone you were when the sun's rays hit your face softly, waking you up with their soft kisses, and you can’t even be mad at being woken up like that. It is comfortable and warm. Still, the moment you open your eyes, you startle slightly at the sight of the unfamiliar, yet familiar ceiling. You slowly sit up and a patchwork blanket slides off your shoulders to bunch around your waist.

With a quick look at your surroundings, you realize where you are: the cottage. And with that realization you put the pieces together: You fell asleep on him, while stargazing, while holding his hand.

You bury your face in your hands, embarrassment flooding your ears. You hope you didn’t mumble, or worse, drool in your sleep. Or you might simply never look him in the face again.

Peaking between your fingers, you spot him in the open kitchen, silently working on something over the stove, his back turned towards you.

“Breakfast is almost done. You can freshen up a bit, I put some clothes that might fit you in the bathroom,” his voice sounds and you flinch, surprised he had noticed you being awake. “It wasn’t difficult, you made quite some noise.”

You frown, jutting your lips out. Is he reading your thoughts? Is that one of the abilities of witches? You sure hope it isn’t, or else he would know about everything that had crossed your mind in his presence… You desperately want to avoid this possibility, but it can’t hurt to try. So you think of something so stupid, so outrageous, he has no choice but to react.

I couldn't read the witch's handwriting at all, she always wrote in curse-ive.

You almost hit your own face with a groan, but you keep your gaze on his back, trying to see if this entices any form of reaction out of him. But nothing happens and you just sigh, even if you’re still curious how he had guessed your thoughts to that degree. Maybe you should ask him later…

A shrug and you stretch the last bit of heaviness out of your limbs before you grab the blanket to fold it and to put it neatly onto the sofa you’ve been sleeping on. It would be rude to leave it crumbled like that, especially after he put the effort to carry… you… For a moment you stop in your tracks and just blink blanky at the blanket in front of you.

He carried you… and put a blanket over you… He carried you…?

This realization hits you like a swinging bat and you have to bite on your lower lip to suppress a gasp. Your eyes jump to his figure, making sure he’s not looking at you, his back still turned towards you, and you slowly make your way to the bathroom, your joints feel like they’re locked up and creaking like a bad oiled machine.

Once you arrive in the bathroom, you close the door behind you and lean heavily on the sink. You feel like you just gave yourself some serious whiplash. So, with a deep breath, you begin to splash your face with cold water, trying to calm yourself down before you turn around to look at the clothes he had prepared for you. Holding the shirt in front of you, you decide that it will fit you even though it might be a bit loose, but you can’t complain about that.

With that you change into the fest pair of clothes, folding your clothes neatly. You don’t even take the time to look into the mirror to check how they fit, almost afraid of what you might see.

You leave the bathroom with another stretch and enter the open kitchen to offer your help to him, but he refuses politely because he already plated the table and there’s simply not enough space for the both of you to cook something without elbowing each other.

So you take a seat at the table, resting your head on your palm, content with just watching him being busy with the food preparation. He moves with a practiced hand, movements smooth and elegant. You can only observe as his surprisingly broad shoulders move, muscles stretching and filling his shirt. Your eyes wander over his lean back and you purse your lips the moment you see his small waist. You wonder if you would be able to put your arms around his whole torso, or your legs…

You inhale sharply, immediately averting your eyes to the window, trying to divert your thoughts to something else, anything but to look back to his direction. It’s a beautiful day outside, there’s no need to stay in the bedroom, or inside, no need to have any thoughts relating to inside activities.

Your gaze jumps around, looking for something to latch onto, but there’s nothing but the wonderful depth of the forest, which isn’t quite enough to distract you from the possible way his muscles could coil when he leans over you…

A bite to the inside of your cheek brings you out of that train of thoughts, and you’re aware of how you need something more concrete for your distraction, like that deer. But you could only vaguely discern some movements in the bushes and nothing really stepped out of the shadows.

The clatter of a plate disrupts your almost desperate search as Shoto puts a plate in front of you, and you can’t stop the excited grin spreading over your face at its contents. He made some waffles, toppings dripping down its sides and its smell luring you in to take the first bite. It looks delicious, an absolute masterpiece. And you can’t resist it, barely taking your time to thank him properly for his efforts, before digging in and letting the soft dough melt over your tongue. You close your eyes and you almost moan out of delight, the taste an explosion of pure bliss. Instead of embarrassing yourself like that, you just stuff your mouth with another bite.

And before you know it, the plate is empty, leaving you full, yet yearning for more. But you doubt you could even manage to get another bite down and just slump backward into the back of the chair, feeling some kind of satisfied drowsiness.

“Shoto, my man, this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten. You got some magic hands,” you tell him and grin widely when he raises his eyebrows at your choice of words.

Instead of properly answering your compliment, he lets out a puff of air before beginning to collect the empty dishes. You immediately stand up, keen on helping him this time around, especially when you don’t need much space to do the dishes. That’s how you end up drying the washed dishes and putting them away in their respective places. Of course not without him showing you where they belong first.

With this arrangement, you finish doing the dishes at a faster rate. He’s drying his hands as he turns around to look at you. “I’m going to brew the potion today, or at least try to. Feel free to take a book to entertain yourself for the time being.”

He points to the huge shelf covering the entire wall of the living room and you gape slightly at its size. How did you miss that in the first place? Even if you have been distracted by a lot of things, this thing is huge, there’s no way you could have just not seen it.

You barely give him a nod before immediately stepping closer to the shelf, running your fingers along the spines of the books. So many different topics, genres and authors, and there is no way Shoto didn’t read them all. No wonder he has such huge amounts of knowledge. After you have taken a couple of strides along the length of the shelf, you finally choose one of the books and take it out of its place.

With it firmly in your palm, you go and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Once you’re in the perfect position you start reading, thumbing through the book about heroes and their powers, and your brain rattles with all the possibilities and the groundwork of this fictional world.

The background is filled with the sound of utensils clashing and clattering, soft blubbering of his potion, and after a couple of pages, you decide to take a look from afar.

He’s still in the kitchen, bending over his work, a slight furrow between his eyebrows, a thoughtful pout tugging at his lips. And you just look. Just admire the evenly split hair of red and white softly falling, framing his face, the calm demeanor revealing his kind heart. You smile. You can’t help but think, these thoughts filling your veins, coming from your heart, how charming he looks, how beautiful, how handsome. Despite being aware that this relationship is entirely contractual, the chance of seeing him again after this ordeal is slim, you admit to yourself, you like him, a lot. And there’s no way to truly know how he feels about you. To him, you’re probably just another person requiring his services, nothing more, nothing less, only bound by the verbal deal you’ve made.

This realization makes you smile bittersweetly, already accepting the outcome. So you try to get back into the book, to put your focus back on the ongoing plot. But your thoughts circle back to the endless ways this could end, the endless ways this could turn and bend. And no matter how badly you wish for it to end otherwise, every path leads to the same blocked path, a deal done, a face regained and a connection lost. Who are you to interfere with fate?

You force yourself to face it, to accept it, no matter how much your heart resists. It will hurt, but everything turns out to be how it’s supposed to be.

A breath and you begin to digest the story word by word, forcing yourself to take them in until you finally relax and get into the flow of the story and its plot, all while the background noises fade out of your consciousness.

You feel yourself clutching at your non-existent pearls as you near the end of the book when Shoto walks up to you, nudging your foot with his to get your attention. And once you look up from your book, he holds a cup with some sort of tea in your direction. With thanks you take it and immediately sip from the warm liquid.

“I thought you’re supposed to brew that potion?” you ask him, cupping your hands to warm your palms on the glazed ceramic.

“I was. That’s the potion in your hand,” he answers and the corners of his mouth slightly dip upward.

You startle at this revelation and almost let the cup drop. “Wh-what? You could’ve said that earlier!”

“How could I when you so eagerly took it from my hands before I could even say anything?” he chuckles and cocks his head to the side, eyes crinkling at your shocked face.

You gape at him and look at the half-empty cup in your hands, then back at him. “Are you messing with me? It feels like you’re messing with me…”

He shakes his head. “As amusing that would be, I’m not. You’re drinking the potion right now. It will probably take some odd hours to take full effect, if at all.”

Slowly you nod and just down the rest of the tea-potion in one big gulp. You exhale and the warmth of the tea coupled with the late hour begins to make you quite drowsy. There’s no way you’re staying two nights at his place, that would be just so utterly rude of you, especially if you’re going to lend out some of his stuff. That means it’s time for you to head home, as much as you’d like to stay on the couch and continue reading.

You close the book and return it to its place before you thank him once again and take your stuff. With everything in hand you begin your way home, the evening still young and the wood still filled with enough light to not get hurt when crossing it.

Finally arriving home without accidents, the first thing you do is change out of the borrowed clothes and prepare them to wash later so you can return them to him. And you start doing your nighttime routine, even if the initial drowsiness is now gone for some reason, but you’d like to be prepared for the moment you feel tired again, and maybe you need some distraction. If you don’t, you might as well go insane with anticipation, literally expecting something to happen immediately.

This anticipation fills you with adrenalin or something, because for some time you just walk around your place aimlessly, not able to settle down without feeling your heart race. You finally settle on your bed with your phone in hand, trying to calm down to the best of your abilities. It doesn’t quite work, because you realize you never asked Shoto for his number, you never felt the need to, and maybe you shouldn’t even ask in the first place.

You sigh and roll around, beginning to scroll through whatever apps you have in rotations, and you only stop to scratch at your tingling face. At first you don’t think too much about it, as it only itches around your mouth. But then the itch begins to spread over your cheek and you have to stop everything you’re doing, because you have to know if you suddenly have some sort of allergic reaction. After thinking for a while, you don’t remember eating something that could elicit such a reaction, so it can’t be that.

It takes you a moment to realize what that could mean and you jump off the bed, rushing to the mirror only to stop in the middle of the way when you remember that mirrors don’t show your problem with your looks. So you race back and dive for your phone, almost hitting your head on the headboard. You don’t pay attention to that though as you’re opening the camera, facing it towards you.

After you take a picture in semi-good lightning, you click into your gallery, only to see the newest pic and stare at it. There’s you! With every single feature you remember and cherish.

And before you know it, you’re already out the door, dashing through the streets and into the woods. You know you should be careful about tripping, but the need to see him, to thank him, to hug him, is overwhelming. Excitement is coursing through your veins, giving you a boost in energy and you feel laughter bubbling through your lungs.

Then you stumble. Unlike the first time, you don’t immediately take a tumble down the hill, because someone catches you right on time, long before you could even get closer to the ground. You grab their arm to straighten up and end up looking directly into Shoto’s eyes. For a moment you just stare at him, mesmerized by his glittering, compelling eyes, by the way you can so clearly see them despite the darkness surrounding you both.

His words bring you back to reality. “Oh, back so soon?”

“Wh– huh? How? I mean, yes, but how did you know it’s me?” you ask bewildered, shutting your mouth with some force before you keep it open when you remember that he can see your expressions now.

He smiles, plush lips revealing perfect teeth, eyes crinkling with obvious joy while roaming over every detail of your face, taking their time over every little feature; almost like he finally found whatever he has been looking for every time he glanced in your direction. One of his hands cups your face, caressing your skin. You lean involuntarily into his touch, enjoying the soft skin on yours more than you should have.

His next words make your heart beat faster than you thought possible, and suddenly a new path opens itself before you.

“My dear, I would always recognize you, no matter what.”

Where You Belong Masterlist

Prince Shoto Todoroki x Court Lady Reader

Warnings: Forbidden love, family tensions, mentions of abuse, angst, eventual smut, FLUFF LOTS AND LOTS OF FLUFF

A/N: hey everyone! I'm so happy for the positive reaction my poll got that helped me decide to post this lovely fic over here! The Ao3 link is still functioning if you prefer to read on that platform I will be updating my post soon. I hope everyone enjoys, I put a lot of soul into this piece!

Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are very much appreciated and treasured like gold ✨️

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

pairing : pro-hero shouto x reader

rating : explicit

my fic for the @mybigbangacademia collab with art by @king-bito

warnings : explicit content, oral (fem-receiving), consensual collaring (fem-receiving), shouto chooses what reader wears a few times, minor dom/sub dynamics, drinking, mention of arm injury, mention of minor foot injury, food consumption, references to anxiety, yandere-adjacent todoroki

summary :

As a member of the Todoroki clan, Shouto knows better than anyone all the vile, base, and impulsive things he’s capable of. Too bad you’re something of a lightning rod for every possessive instinct he’s ever had.  What’s worse? You don’t want him to stop.

chapter one (wc 13,000)

chapter two (wc 7,800)

PAID WITH AFFECTION ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, no quirk au, cuddling services and cuddle buddies, todoroki shouto is an overworked EMT, reader is a cuddle buddy, fluff, strangers to ‘is it ethical to have a crush on your cuddle buddy??!!’ god knows

wc: 1.7k

As an EMT, it was natural that Shouto be conscious of all the things around him — more so than most. After all, the job required quick thinking, keen eyes, a clear head and practiced hands. But for reasons he can’t touch upon, having you stand idly in his genkan wearing a pair of house slippers and an easy smile has his mind repeating a tedious loop, recalling every single coffee ring stain, stray sock, crease and crumb in his apartment with microscopic detail.

“Come in,” he says, lowering his head into a modest bow by way of habit. His voice is mercifully steady. You’re warm, so inviting that it disarms him. “I… I apologise for any mess. My friends requested you with the intention of surprising me”.

“They did leave a note at the end of the application to warn me,” the corner of your mouth lifts further, and you’re looking at him as if you’ve known him far longer than five minutes. Those kind eyes soften and wrinkle, “It was sweet of them to do this for you. But I do want to remind you that you can end our session at any point. I won’t mind”.

Shouto hears your voice, though the words roll over him in a gentle wave. His thoughts are muddied with fatigue, drifting elsewhere. You’ve moved closer but kept appropriate distance, head tilted in both curiosity and concern. Dipping to meet his gaze bids you to peer through your eyelashes, unintentionally demure as you call out to him.

“Are you sure you’re comfortable with—?”

“I trust them,” he quietly interrupts. A moment of patient silence passes as he collects himself, tongue peeking to wet his bottom lip, to cushion the words before they leave his mouth. “They wouldn’t do this if they thought I’d be uncomfortable”.

“Still,” you pause, fiddling with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “You have an hour slot with me. Feel free to kick me out at any point”.

Red and white stands fall loose when he nods, resting over the bridge of his nose. Your eyes crinkle, gleaming with far off endearment at his obvious dishevelment. His hair is flat to one side, the impression of his couch cushion pressed pink into his right cheek; pant leg ridden up his calf, the other pooled around his ankles, his once white shirt had stretched in the dryer and now hung below the waist.

There’s the urge to apologise again and explain it away, but he wondered if it would offend you. After all, this was your job — or one of two, according to Midoriya. He’d been far more forthcoming about the whole thing. Shouto wasn’t supposed to find out, but Ochako is not as good at keeping her voice down as she thinks she is.

And Shouto is far nosier than they give him credit for. Slightly obsessive, he admits. If something is out of place, or it doesn’t make sense to him, he will pick at the problem until it bleeds.

Though he wouldn’t call this a problem. Atleast, not yet. The pads of your fingers skim gently over his wrist, squeezing his palm to retain his attention—

This could be the beginning of a big problem.

“This okay?” you apply more pressure and he swallows, overturning his hand so your fingers slide against the shallow of his palm. His heart line is light, curved like a half moon. “Shouto?”

“Sorry,” he tries to conceal a grimace. “I’m not usually like this. It has been a long week”.

“A long month from what I hear,” you add sombrely. Another reassuring squeeze. “But that’s what I’m here to help with”.

Shouto worried his inner lip between his teeth. “I’m not really… sure how these things are supposed to work,” he admits, disliking the uncertainty of it, not knowing how to find his footing.

“Well. How about I go over the fine print?” you hold him properly, knuckles entwined, the heel of your hand tucks against his life line. He can’t quite remember the last time he was shown such… casual affection.

Patients held him all the time — the younger ones, usually. Gripping his forearms, counting his fingers, braiding the colours in his hair. His friends were touchy, but his introverted tendencies often meant boundaries were assumed rather than asked for.

This is different. It feels as if he has missed a step climbing the stairs.

“Erotic or sexual behaviour is not permitted for the client nor the cuddler,” you continue, taking his silence as permission. “No use of tongue or teeth, no touching of genitals or intimate areas. And no nudity”.

“Right,” he rasps. Sex might be less unnerving than this.

“Your body will sometimes react to stimuli on its own. I understand that that alone is not a sign of consent or violation of the rules,” heat thrums under the skin of his cheeks as you level him with a kind look. “Just make sure to talk to me if anything is wrong, okay?”

“That’s a lot of rules for something as simple as cuddling”.

“Guess so. But they’re to keep us both safe,” you step closer. Something swoops in his belly, and his fingers twitch reflexively in your grasp. “We don’t need to jump right into it, either. We can sit and talk, if you like”.

God. The world is awash with colour, all because you’re in it. A sweet stranger. Todoroki Shouto, the loneliest man in the UA emergency unit. What his friends must think of him. He has reached a new low if they’d felt the need to hire someone to hug him.

Midoriya’s gentle voice reached his ears. Apologetic, but without the apology. Sorry that he wasn’t sorry. “I know it’s unorthodox, but you should give it a try, Shou. I mean, cuddles are great for your health!”

To which Ochako had added, “Yeah, Todoroki! Set an example!”

Conceding to his best friends wishes, the pair of you walk over to the couch. The cushions are wide enough for two bodies to lie comfortably. They yield under your shared weight, an embrace in itself. He couldn’t count the many nights spent sleeping here instead of his bed.

Your thighs are pressed together, body heat seeping through the fabric of his sweatpants. You’ve kept your hands locked together where they rest in your lap. Cautiously, he runs his thumb over your knuckles and finds no discomfort, only happiness at his reciprocation.

“Do you do this a lot?” he blurts, followed by a wince. “I mean—”

“I’ve been doing this for half a year,” you tell him amusedly. “Even so, I don't have many clients. I’m a little picky, and most of them only need a session or two if they’re going through something”.

Picky. That tidbit makes him happier than he thinks it should. “I’m glad I passed your vetting process, then,” he says.

“So am I,” you return. Your body shifts to give him your full attention. Eyes, chest, knees turning. A hand smooths over his wrist again, right to the crook of his elbow. “Your friends told me how hard you’ve been working. I’m happy to do this for you”.

Whatever this will be. Is he supposed to lean into you naturally and wrap his own arms around you? Would it be inappropriate to rest his head on your chest? He glances to your lap, a thread of longing woven through his heart as it flutters. It looks comfortable there. The thought pulls on his fatigue until it covers him like a blanket.

Unbeknownst to him, you have followed his line of sight to the spot where your bodies connect. His posture droops, shoulders falling forward. Your smile softens with realisation. “Shall we start off by having you rest in my lap?”

Shouto blinks away the haze, eyes imperceptibly wider. “Is that alright?”

You hum your assent. The sound is low, melodic, a hint of fondness. A beautiful stranger in his home, so at home; something about that relaxes him.

Shouto is anything but graceful when he flops onto your thighs, body draping along the sofa. He mutters a bashful apology that you wave away with a laugh, steadying his head while you recline into the back cushions.

Your thighs are plush, indelibly soft. They’re yours. You smell a little familiar; it prods unhelpfully at an old memory. A faceless silhouette he passed in the street, maybe an old patient. You must use the same scent, he thinks. That reel of film is soon overwritten with images of you, body curled above him as you reach for the throw draped over the back of the couch.

“Sleep, Shouto,” you murmur. “I’ll wake you when the session is over”.

His drawn out sigh of relief feels warm against your abdomen. The tension lessons with every minute that passes, dwindling into contentment as the rigidity seeps from his bones. Sinew becomes wet sand, heavy in his limbs, the muscles in his face falling slack so that his lips part. The corner of his mouth is wet.

Your fingers thread into his hair. They’re tender at his scalp, nails lightly scratching at the roots, combing front to back. A shiver runs through him when you reach the nape of his neck, curling the soft short strands around your fingertip.

Shouto finds himself fighting sleep despite your instruction. His consciousness wanes, reaching the surface for breath before he’s submerged again. He wanted to be awake for this, just a while longer.

That’s the last thing he recalls before the chime of your alarm. He startled in place and shied away from the noise, tucking himself into your stomach without much thought, realising his actions only as you began to shake with laughter. To a sleep addled Shouto, it might be the most pleasant thing he has ever heard.

“I take it you slept well?” you teased.

Shouto takes in the span of his ceiling. The sun has started to set, shadows stretching across the room. Simultaneously, five minutes and five years had passed in the span of a single nap.

That might be the best he has slept all year. And he concludes, perhaps, his brain-to-mouth filter still has yet to reconnect. Midoriya can answer for it later.

“Would it be unethical of me to book your entire calendar?”

in cinders | masterlist

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 24,362 words

summary: You’re just trying to fairy godmother your best friend into a happily ever after. If only the prince would stop hanging around and cooperate.

tags: cinderella AU, prince!Shouto, romance, misunderstandings, reader-insert

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

chapter links:

one

two

three

four

five

six

seven

eight

nine

deleted scenes: (requests for short drabbles related to the fic)

How did Shouto react when he saw the reader had disappeared from the ball?

*SPOILER* What was Shouto & the reader’s wedding night like?

cross posted on ao3: here

how to mend a broken heart

Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader & Todoroki Shouto x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word count: 8424

A/N: my first time posting on tumblr so pls be gentle lmao thanks

It was strange- the way his crimson eyes linger over the cute bubbly girl off in the distance. Was he even looking at her or was he staring off in her direction? Did he even notice he was zoning out? “Earth to Katsuki.” You say, eyes never leaving his face. You could see it. His eyes following her every move and when she smiled- a faint pink dusted his cheeks. Did he even notice you next to him? “Katsuki.” You say a little louder this time, giving him a poke on his arm. 

“Holy fuck!” He growls, head snapping around, eyes glaring but instantly softening as soon as he realizes who it is. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!” 

“You like her?” You tease. It wasn’t possible right? The Great Bakugou Katsuki has a crush on Uraraka? “Shut the hell up.” 

Oh. He didn’t deny it. 

Keep reading

Deceiving the Duke | Master List

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader status: coming soon! length: est. 30,000 words | 9 chapters

summary: When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a lady’s maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

tags/warnings: romance, regency au, class differences, hidden identity/identity porn, aged up characters, eventual smut

chapter links:

one - ETA March 31

two - ETA April 1

three - ETA April 2

four - ETA April 3

five - ETA April 4

six - ETA April 5

seven - ETA April 6

eight - ETA April 7

nine - ETA April 8

cross-posted on ao3: Link TBA!

Part of the Romancing the Reader collab with @ofmermaidstories and @cat-slippered

i'll find my way (back to you) | todoroki x reader | masterlist

pairing - todoroki shouto x reader

summary -

Your life is going the way you want it to - a restaurant of your own, great friends and a mostly successful escape from the clutches of canon. It’s just the infuriatingly attractive and interested Pro Hero that complicates things.

(Todoroki Shouto x Reader: the one where you realize that dodging the world of Heroes is impossible. Especially when you’ve got Todoroki popping up at every turn.)

disclaimer - I am not Japanese and I am not a chef. This fic is the result of a lot of thinking and research. Isekai/reincarnation also plays an important role in the story so just keep that in mind.

chapter links

one

two

three

four

five

six

cross-posted on ao3 here

conspire | masterlist

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 13,307 words

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

chapter links:

one

two

three

four

five

cross posted on ao3: here

vested interest | masterlist

pairing: Todoroki Shouto/Reader

summary: You’d just thought Shouto was absent minded, accidentally leaving behind a jacket or a sweater or his vest. You didn’t realize this was a thing. (In which Todoroki Shouto—despite his quirk—has zero chill, and uses his clothes to ward off other men.)

length: 19,500 words | 5 chapters

tags: romance, pro hero au, misunderstandings, shouto is a little shit

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, slightly possessive behavior

chapter links:

one: coat and run

two: in-vest-ed

three: for hood measure

four: well-suited

five: all buttoned up

fix extras:

What happens when Reader finally tries to return Shouto’s jacket?

What was chapter 4 like from Shouto’s POV?

cross posted on ao3: here

You stare blankly at where his hand was just seconds ago, gaze zeroing on the engagement ring and white gold band. His warmth is still on your skin. But his love for you apparently has been long gone

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x Reader

Warnings: Has mature content, mentions of cheating and divorce

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

You Come Home Injured (Yandere BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Another yandere post?? Hell yeah. Don’t know why, just been in the mood for some obsessive boys🤷‍♀️ Hope you like it!

BNHA Tag List (bc that’s a thing now whoop whoop🥳): @your-filled-with-determination​

Word count: 1544

Bakugou Katsuki:

Blood poured from your lip and dribbled down your chin. Your jaw ached and your ribs whined with each of your movements as you pushed open the front door, almost collapsing just as you made it inside. 

“YN?” Bakugou’s angered voice thundered from the kitchen. “Where the hell have you been?”

Even speaking was too much effort as your mind fogged, forcing you to slump into the nearest chair. The sofa felt so… so soft. 

Maybe a small nap wouldn’t hurt. 

“YN?” Loud thumps came closer and closer before a blurred form stood in the entryway of the living room. “YN!”

“Katsuki…” You struggled to keep conscious, head lolling to the side every few seconds as Bakugou’s eyes widened. 

Your state was horrific. Body littered in bruises, he couldn’t tell exactly what blood spatters came from where. You looked like you were dead on your feet. “No, no, no! Who did this?”

His teeth grinded as he struggled to caress your cheek as tenderly as possible. Hot, fiery rage lit up the pit of his stomach, almost travelling to his hands before he stopped himself from exploding just next to your face. 

“I’m…” you could barely keep your eyes open, “...so tired. I wanna take a nap.”

“No, YN, stay with me! You’re gonna be fine!” Crimson eyes were aflame with a worry you’d never seen before mixed in with the normal fury you were used to. “I’ll kill whoever did this to you! I swear!”

Bakugou could only watch as you finally gave into exhaustion, head dropping back onto the top of the sofa before your body relaxed completely. 

Angry. Angry at you for getting into this mess. Angry at the man who thought he could live after doing such a thing. And angry at himself for never trusting his gut and locking you away for good. 

Pressing a shaky kiss to your cheek, Bakugou rose from his crouch at your side and glanced toward the door. He knew what he had to do. 

The next day, you were in the hospital being treated for your wounds. Of course, they asked what happened and who did this to you, even daring to flash Bakugou a suspicious look as he stood at your side with a glare. 

There was no point in looking for the man who hurt you. He was gone. His body--or, rather what remained--was littered around the nearby forest, already being feasted upon by local wildlife. The charred bits of his existence served as a reminder that Bakugou never turned down a fight when it came to you. 

Because no one touched you and got away with it. No one.

Todoroki Shouto:

He can only watch, shell-shocked, as you stumbled into the house, leg limping and cheek a dark purple. 

“YN.” In an instant, he’s on his feet, right hand stretching out to soothe your bruise. A sigh leaves you at the feeling of cold on your burning cheek, leaning more into your boyfriend’s hold as he directs you to the couch. 

After five minutes of him checking every inch of your body for more damage, he finally leaves and returns with a cup of steaming something. 

“Drink this,” he mumbles, concerned eyes watching your every move as you gulp down the tea. 

When you set down the mug, he returns his hand to your face, running his fingers over the marking that has finally stopped swelling. 

Todoroki struggles to meet your gaze as he runs his other hand along your thigh down to your wounded knee. “Who… who did this to you?”

“It’s just part of the job, Shouto-”

“No,” he grits out, setting both hands on your cheeks to keep you facing him. “Who did this to you? Where is he?”

“The cops already arrested him, Shouto.” You reach a hand up to grasp his wrist, running a thumb along the skin. A smile works its way onto your face. “Trust me, I gave more than I got.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw before he finally nods, pulling away and standing up. “Okay. Fine. I’ll let it go. But please be more careful next time.”

Tension leaves your body at his willingness to give in and the grin on your face grows. “I will. Now what’s for dinner?”

That night, Todoroki lies on his back and stares at the ceiling, too uneasy to sleep even with you curled into his side. The cops have him. He’s detained.

But he hurt her.

Somebody hurt the love of his life and got away with it. Not for long. 

Ever so slowly, he slipped away from your hold and left his pillow in his place, stopping in his tracks just for a second to watch as you hugged the pillow tighter to your chest. 

Somebody hurt you, YN. Surely you know I can’t let him get away with that. 

Getting into the precinct was easy, but it was even easier to bribe the cops to let him see the arrests of the night. Specifically ones with bruised fists. 

“Sir, we can’t just let you-” Todoroki flashed his gaze to the fumbling cop. 

“How much?”

“W-what?”

“Give this guy to me,” he nodded toward the criminal cowering in the corner of the cell, “and you could be set for life.”

“Sir…”

The deal was made and the cop turned a blind eye as Todoroki walked out with a more-than reluctant criminal in his grasp. 

“Please, I’m sorry! I screwed up! Just take me back! Please!”

The whining never bothered Todoroki; instead, he was annoyed at just how loud it got as soon as his punishment was dealt. 

It became a question of whether the man died of burns or frostbite--either way, Todoroki knew the man was feast for the fishes as he dropped the charred remains off the bridge and into the river below. 

When he finally returned home, you didn’t even stir once as he showered off the scumbag’s touch and returned to his place in your arms with dripping hair. 

“Shouto…?”

“Shh, go back to sleep, YN.” And you did, ever so safe with Todoroki at your side. 

Because with him, nobody would dare to hurt you again. 

Kirishima Eijiro:

The second you walk through the door, Kirishima’s at your side, ushering you into the bathroom. With a washcloth, he wipes the dirt from your face and neck, stopping every few seconds to stare at the finger-shaped bruises on the skin. 

You knew it the instant you looked into his eyes. “Eijiro… don’t. You know it wasn’t your fault.” 

Guilt covered his face like a veil, draping over his entire body until it appeared as though he had let the world down in some way. 

“I should have been there, YN.” His teeth grit in frustration and his hands ball up into fists. “I should have kept you safe.”

“You can’t be there every second of every day, Eijiro.” You place a hand over his and caress the skin. “I don’t blame you for this. It wasn’t your fault.”

He shakes his head. “You’re wrong, YN. I should have been there. It’s my responsibility to keep you safe.”

Your heart warmed at his declaration. He was always so kind, but sometimes it was a pain that he would take on so much in your stead. 

“I could have protected you…”

No words you could say could bring him out of this now. All you could do was stay by his side to ensure that you were still alive and safe until he got over his guilt. 

“Let’s go.” You stood with a small smile, offering a hand to him.

Hesitantly, he accepted the offer and rose to his feet, confusion taking over his features.

“What are we doing?”

“Let’s spend the day together, inside. Just the two of us. No distractions. No outside world. Just me and you.”

The thought lit up his face in an instant and before you knew it, you were being lifted into his arms and hauled out to the kitchen. “All right, but only if you let me do all the work. You just sit and rest.”

That night, Kirishima stroked the skin of your cheek, grinning as you slept so peacefully in his arms. You were safe. You were okay. You were with him. 

He wanted you like this forever. 

Forever. That could work. The window just behind your back would need to be locked and blacked out so nobody could see you inside. The doors would need to be chained and bolted with keys only Kirishima had so he could make sure you were in his presence. No leaving without him. No going out without him at your side. Nothing.

You would be safe and in his arms forever. How… perfect.

Kirishima hummed blissfully at the thought. If today said anything about how you felt, then surely you would agree to this too. 

With this plan, you and Kirishima could be by one another’s sides forever, safe and in love. 

Just perfect.

Kidnappers and Keepers (Todoroki x Reader/Soulmate AU)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You get kidnapped by a douchebag named “Clarence.” Nothing tops that. Well, except for your dreamboat of a soulmate. Now, he’s a keeper right there.

A/N: It’s five a.m. What is sleep. Please love this because this puppy took me ages of procrastination, but I really liked my one idea at the end of the story. I kinda wrote this backwards and on two separate days, so that could explain why it seems a little different in some parts. Please enjoy!

Word count: 3309

        Does anyone remember when Nutella was all the rage? Man, those were the good old days. It was a peaceful time. Every story on Wattpad was about a romantic kidnapping, usually involving a werewolf or two. One Direction spoke to every thirteen-year-old on a spiritual level, and all earbuds were connected to cords attached to phones. 

        It was also around the time the villain in front of you began his story. Oh wait, no, that was only twenty minutes ago. Damn, it’s crazy how time can fly some days but then crawl by slower than a slug the next. Anyways, what was this guy talking about? Oh yeah, he was monologuing his evil plan while you were stuck on the grimy floor of a dark warehouse. He had snatched you off the street as a hostage and handcuffed you behind your back to a leaking pipe, forcing you to sit and listen to him blab. What a drag. 

        “And then we will rule the world!” The villain --what was his name again?-- looked at you expectantly.

        “Huh?” He groaned in exasperation. 

        “Did you even hear a single word I said?!” 

        “No. Did you know your fly was open?” The villain, a dirt-covered twenty-something-year-old in shady, black apparel, glared at you from under the flickering light in the large room. You, on the other hand, stared at the ceiling distractedly while flicking your teeth with your tongue. Note to self: next time you get kidnapped, don’t eat popcorn that day. Stupid kernels.

        “Can’t you take anything seriously?” He jabbed, although his hands discreetly checked his pants, only to burn red when he remembered there was no zipper. You snicker under your breath. Got ‘em. “Ugh, you know what?!” He suddenly exploded, approaching you with a roll of duct tape. “I’m tired of you.” The piece he ripped off was too small to stick well to your face, but you didn’t have the energy to tell him. You poked out your tongue between your lips before his sweaty hands patted down the adhesive, sliding it up and over your top lip to remove the sticky binding from your face. He stepped away and turned his back to you, whipping out his phone.

        “Now that that’s done, where the hell are they?” the guy muttered, tapping away. You shifted uncomfortably on the cement floor, your butt growing numb. At this point, the piece of tape now dangled awkwardly from your chin. I’ve always wondered what a goatee was like. 

        “Where’s who?” you wondered. The villain whipped around to stare at you in shock.

        “How the- how did you- why are you-... what?” You raised a brow at his stammers.

        “Shoot for a bigger piece next time, fella. Or try something stronger.” You yawn before cracking your neck. “Have you considered super glue?” The door to your right suddenly crashed open. Well just barge right in, why don’t you. 

        “Clarence, did you get the girl?” Oh, now that’s just mean. Who names their child “Clarence”? You would turn to crime too if you had that name. 

        “Yes, sir.” The new guys who just joined the party were villains you had never seen before. One wasn’t even human, per se, just a dark blob surrounded by a silhouette of purple. The other was covered completely in a black cloak so you couldn’t view anything of their figure or face. Not even when they approached you with an outstretched hand. 

        “Do not be afraid, this won’t hurt a bit.” Pshh, like you were going to trust that load. Your body trembled and your feet scrambled against the floor pushing yourself back and away. Sadly, you were stopped by the pipe behind you. So this is how I die. I’ll never get to meet my soulmate. Or unlodge that stupid-ass kernel in my back tooth. “I’m not going to kill you.” Lyin’ ass. “We just need you as bait.” He had the deep voice of evil. 

        “No thanks,” you hiss. 

        “I wasn’t asking.” Could you, though? It’d be more polite. You didn’t have time to flinch away before his hand grasped your face. Like full-on palmed that bitch like a dad inspecting a melon at Walmart. What. 

        “Umm, whatcha doin’ there, budd-” before you could finish, a bright pain flashed behind your eyes. You whimpered as white noise rang in your ears, and your body began to convulse violently. Mind-control. That’s what it was. And from what you could tell, this guy had better control over your thoughts than you ever did. It felt like someone had dug their fingernails into your brain, and you abruptly spoke without your own volition. 

        “She’s under my control.” The voice scraped at your throat, but it still sounded like you. Your body stopped its spasms and froze. You were now in the passenger seat of your own body, hijacked like a computer. People and their quirks these days. Whatever happened to the classic super strength? The man released your face and stood up, stepping back to join his wispy companion while he gestured towards you. Following the action, Clarence --seriously, this poor guy-- uncuffed you from the pipe and you forcefully stood on two numb, shaky legs. 

        “We’ll use her to distract the heroes before we attack.” The cloaked man spoke, features still shadowed by his hood. 

        “How do they know to come here?” your pitiful kidnapper asked. He seemed new to this kind of job; his voice had been shaky and unsure while he nervously wrung his hands. 

        “We sent the video of you snatching her to their agency.” Poor guy became the scapegoat. But wait, the agency? Oh crap. 

        Here’s a little history lesson: before you were attacked today, you would occasionally help out at Endeavor’s Hero Agency. One day, about six or seven months ago, you had found a worker of theirs severely injured from a villain. After healing them with your quirk, you had been offered a job at the office. However, you had to deny it because, well, you were only in high school. On the other hand, ever since that day the worker stayed in touch with you, every once in a while calling you for help if anyone was ever injured on a mission. Healing them made you feel like a hero, so you didn’t stop. But now today, you were seriously regretting getting involved with them. This sucked bad. 

        “They’ll come,” the dark cloud man assured, “they value the girl.” Aww, if you were in control of your body so you could blush and smack his arm bashfully. However, right now you were pissed, and the only smacking you wanted to do was that cloak guy’s head against that moldy pipe over there. This sucks major- A noise interrupts your mental rant. It was a clang outside, like someone had kicked a trash can. Nonetheless, the villains in the room all rushed to the shadiest part of the warehouse, taking cover behind large boxes. 

                                ###

        Shouto’s words had always been… less than reassuring. 

        Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN. 

        They were even more unsettling when an agent of his father’s called him and asked if he had ever seen a “YN.” 

        “No…” 

        “Oh, well if you do, please let us know. She was kidnapped a couple hours ago, and we could really use your help right now.” Now that he thought about it, Shouto did distantly remember the name floating around the agency once or twice when he had temped there. 

        “Okay, I will.” He hung up the phone and continued down the street, hands coldly shoved in his pockets while he made his way home. The task was easy until he heard yells coming from within the abandoned warehouse next to him. What the hell?

        “Todoroki!” A familiar voice shouted from behind him. The bicolored man slowly turned to see two of his classmates approaching, one waving erratically at him.

        “What are you doing out here?” Midoriya asked. 

        “I just felt like walking around. What about you?” More shouts came from inside the building next to them just as the green-haired boy was about to respond. 

        “What was that?” Iida stares curiously into the alleyway, eyes catching on a shady-looking door that led into the warehouse. “We must check it out,” the class rep declares before approaching the entrance. The other two follow him with furrowed brows, both concerned and unsure at the same time. A loud noise rattles from within the alleyway. 

        “Sorry.” Midoriya shyly steps away from a metal trash can and inches it away with his foot. The can’s cover falls off with the movement and crashes onto the ground. Midoriya’s face is not unlike a traffic signal at this point, glowing bright red. 

        Iida shakes his head before pushing open the doorway, entering the dim, moldy stash house.

                                ###

        What was that one sentence that has like all the letters in the English alphabet in it? It was about a fox and a dog… whatever. You were bored. And technically mindless. Sort of. You couldn’t do or say anything when three boys your age entered the nasty ass room you were in, and your heart couldn’t even skip a beat when your eyes landed on that one dreamboat. Do you think he purposely dyes his hair like that? I dig it.

        “...you YN?” Oh crap, you missed like half of that, sorry dreamboat. 

        “Yeah, but you guys are too late. The villains left that way, through the window over there.” The two-toned hair man glanced down at his wrist with confused eyes in your peripheral vision, but the villain controlling your body made no note. Then he gestured to his friends to follow him to the boxes. Dumbass dreamboat. 

        It was like watching a horror movie. The audience already knew where the murderers were, but the attractive protagonists- they’re always attractive. No ugly person ever gets hunted down, and that’s a fact- just can’t hear your annoyed screaming at the TV. 

        They’re hiding behind the- dammit. The whole room just got ten times more rowdy, and suddenly you were in control of your own body again. Must be how Cloak Man’s quirk works. Can’t fight and mind-control at the same time. At least God is fair. 

        Grunts, exclamations and whooshes all sound behind you while you huddle in a corner, shaking and hugging yourself until the fighting ends. 

        “Here, call my father and tell him to come!” It’s the pretty boy, and your eyes widen at his words before a phone slides on the ground over to you. He returns to the battle in hand-to-hand combat with Clarence, who doesn’t put up much of a fight after your soulmate-- holy shit-- turns one arm into a popsicle and the other into a flaming torch. Hot damn. Hehe, I’m funny- not the time YN! You shake yourself out of it and scramble to the phone, glancing back up to watch the fight while pressing the call button on the open contact. A wave of heat fills the room as your soulmate uses his quirk to roast that one cloaked bastard, and you curl even further into the dusty half of the warehouse you’re hiding in.

        “Pick up, pick up, pick up- hello?” The person you called is breathing heavily over the line. 

        “This isn’t Shouto, who is this?” It sounds vaguely familiar, but you don’t take the time to mull over the fact.

        “This is YN YLN and I’m in a warehouse off the main street in town. We could really use some cops or something over here!” 

        “YN? Shouto found you?” Aww, your soulmate told his father about you, how cute!

        “Yes, please hurry!” A sudden flame flashes directly in front of you, almost singeing your eyebrows away. The phone flies out of your hand- no idea how that happened- while you scream in terror, and your soulmate shouts back a “Sorry!”

        “Sorry my ass,” you grumble before army-crawling back over to his yeeted technology. The screen is cracked and dark. Now it was your turn for a half-assed apology, but “Shouto” seemed rather occupied at the moment. Speaking of him, you look back down at your soulmark and run your trembling fingers over the words. When you first got them, you thought you were destined to be with a dada’s boy. You predicted you would meet him in the park and he would throw a phone at you, too nervous to be alone without his father while he squealed out those words. 

        So, even though your current situation was less than desirable, you were kinda thankful. At least he needed you to call his dad for a badass reason, and not an excited, “gotta show my dad this” reason. 

        The door next to you slammed open and you screamed in fright once more, only to pause at the sight. Endeavor? Ohhh. The hot quirk your soulmate had suddenly made a million times more sense. The pro-hero wasn’t alone, and he stormed in with numerous other agents to take out your kidnappers. 

        The dark blob man disappeared into thin air when they entered the room, leaving his two villain friends to get restrained and captured by the new heroes. My guy fucking dipped. Candy-ass. 

        Hesitantly, you stood and approached your soulmate. He was watching Clarence and Cloak Man get tied up when you tapped his shoulder, gaining his attention instantly. You began to rub your own fingers together when he made eye-contact with you, and fended off the urge to touch the mark on his face. Just as you open your mouth to speak, your mind goes blank. Wow, so not helpful. Your soulmate raises his eyebrows at you, waiting patiently while you awkwardly bite your lip and clear your throat. After that, the words crawl their way right out of you.

        “Sorry about earlier, I was being mind-controlled by that cloaky fella over there. My name’s YN.” 

        Shouto is silent for a second while one hand swiftly covers the wrist of the other. Maybe it had burned for you earlier, but you had been too distracted to- Oh hello there. Yep, that’s a’ tingling all right. You copy his action and hiss at the feeling. It wasn’t unpleasant, but a sudden hotness on your wrist tends to freak you out once in a while. 

        “My name is Shouto Todoroki. It’s nice to meet you.” Oh god, he was adorable. Like an adorable, little well-behaved puppy. You were totally going to ruin that pleasantness for him one day. He’s just gonna walk in on you cussing out your own foot and it’ll go shjoop right out of him.

        “You too,” you mumble distractedly. “Or me too! Or… umm, yes, it’s nice to meet you too.” Ok, YN, what the hell was that? “Anyways…” This is a deesaster. “I have a quirk.” Yep, it’s over.

        “Okay....” He looks thoroughly confused. He might want to get used to that feeling around you. “Me too, I guess?” You want to smack yourself upside the head.

        “I’m sorry. I said that weird. Actually, I didn’t even say it.” He looks so lost. “I have a healing quirk, and you just got into a fight.” There we go, now you got him. He nods his head understandingly. 

        “Oh okay, so you’re offering to heal me.” Great job, Watson.

        “Yeah.” Your cheeks are so red at this point that they hurt. He holds out his scraped hands towards you and gives you a gentle smile. 

        “Work your magic.”

                                ###

        “We could use someone like you at UA.”

        After you had healed his wounds the first day you met, Shouto encouraged you to talk to the admissions office there. He had even asked his dad to recommend they give you a spot, and it worked. You didn’t know how, but you just counted your blessings and moved on.

        Now, you sat as a student assistant to Recovery Girl, with your very own dorm and everything. You attended the normal classes UA offered and worked during lunch and after school with the nurse to heal the injured and sick. It was usually the injured, and it was usually Shouto’s friend Midoriya. At a certain point, you didn’t care to ask what he had done, you just healed him and sent him on his way.

        “There you go, greeny.” You patted his freshly healed arm. “Now if you would stop hurting yourself, I really wouldn’t mind.” Your eyes strayed from his worn-out form to the new one, leaning in the doorway with crossed arms. Dreamboat.

        “I know, YN, I want that too. Thanks again, though!” The hero-in-training cheered right up at the prospect of getting to leave and bid you adieu, greeting Todoroki before disappearing into the hall. 

        “Hi.” Your soulmate stepped into the room with a soft smile, laying a kiss on your cheek before sitting in the patient’s bed across from your spinny chair. 

        “Well, hello to you too.” You beam at him with curious eyes. “You seem more chipper than usual, what’s up?” 

        “I just... really wanted to see you,” he admits apprehensively, staring at the posters on Recovery Girl’s walls to avoid looking at you. Your chest preens with happiness and you stand up to join him on the bed.

        “I wanted to see you too.” You slump down next to him and lay your head on his shoulder, intertwining your fingers with his own on your lap. The room stays silent while you both bask in the warmth of each other’s presence, but Todoroki surprisingly decides to break the silence.

        “So,” he pulls his head off yours and turns to face you, “have you come up with a hero name yet?” Your body begins to wiggle excitedly and you whirl around to face him, now sitting crossed-legged on the bed and bouncing your knees up and down anxiously.

        “Yes I did!” His eyes sparkle at your excitement and he laughs softly. 

        “Well?”

        “Say hello to… wait for it,” he rolls his eyes at your actions while you drumroll against your own thighs, “Health Girl!” 

        Todoroki grows apprehensive and his smile falls slightly. Your own face grows smug and you poke him in the side playfully. “I’m just kidding, I’m not that lame.”

        “You sure?” Your eyes widen. He has a sarcasm button now?

        “Woah, mister, you’re learning too much from me. You might wanna stop that before you start yelling at your phone for dropping itself.” (Yeah, that’s happened before. But to be fair, your phone was a dumbass bitch.) 

        Your heart glows with pride when he releases a small, rare chuckle. The Shuckle. Damn, you must be really special to get that treatment. Well you better be, with all that ‘soulmates for life’ crap dangling over your head.

        “No really, I actually did come up with a good name.” 

        “All right, tell me.” 

        Here’s the thing, your quirk wasn’t exactly healing people, it was more of speeding up their own body’s cellular processes when you got close enough. So you had the perfect name. At least, you hoped you did. Oh crap, what if it was terrible?

        “What about... ‘Enzyma’?” you suggest nervously, staring down into your lap and rubbing your fingers against each other. Arms wrap themselves around your hips and tug you closer to their owner as a pair of lips press against your forehead. Todoroki stares lovingly into your eyes after your own arms reach up to wrap around his neck, melting into his embrace. 

        “It’s perfect.” 

        So was he.