#todoroki headcanons

Shouto blinks, head tilted to the side and lips slightly parted as if to say something but failing to come up with any good response, he once again finds himself in a not-so-rare-situation.

He's used to it by now, being followed around and ambushed by hordes of starstruck mega fans, requesting autographs, asking about his latest successful mission, or even just swarming him to compliment his breathtaking looks and outstanding strength, while sighing dreamily or squealing excitedly.

What's baffling to him this time however, is the sheer exasperation reflected upon the teenage girls' faces before him.

They're whining, complaining, obviously heartbroken and even sobbing while investigating him about the most recent rumor they've heard.. his relationship with you.

They were hoping it would be just that.. a rumor, but as he proudly and gleefully confirmed it to be true—bracing himself for a joyous reaction and a round of congratulations—his expression instead turns puzzled when he's faced with a stunned crowd.

He's well aware of his fans' love and their unwavering support, so then why are they reacting this way to the happy news?

_ "She's perfect trust me, she makes me happy and I love her, so don't fret." he explains in that deadpan tone he's well known for, but his words only serve to evoke more mortified gasps and pained whimpers.

He blinks again, his mismatched irises scan the crowd before a "brilliant" idea pops up in his brain. He pulls out his phone, unlocking the screen and turning the device towards them, "look, she's beautiful too, isn't she? so stop worrying about me." he adds impassively before tucking the device back into his pocket, leaving the poor girls speechless.

This grown ass man, a formidable pro hero and one of the strongest and wittiest in battle, is in fact also too naive and lacking when it comes to understanding social cues, he's tragically failing to see the jealousy burning right behind the eyes of his enraged and heartbroken fans.

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flex that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you. as if he wasn’t the one to ask you to be his partner…

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone down face up only for it to be flipped a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone and invading your privacy (this is literally so me guys..)

he is very attentive, he’s SUCH a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite pieces of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of the food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft, very loving voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“oh thank god you’re here sho’, i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you finally looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: shoto todoroki, kirishima eijirou, hitoshi shinsou, denki kaminari, katsuki bakugou, izuku midoriya, sero hanta

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: suggestive? ig lmao, mentions of marijuana/drug usage

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

✮ helps you do your skincare and looks at your face so focused as he rubs aquaphor/vaseline on your skin

✮ holds you by the waist while walking across the street

✮ just something about the way he says “c’mere.” man

✮ will fight people to sit next to you when y’all go out to eat with friends

✮ when he’s stopping you from going somewhere or doing something stupid he forces you into a hug, burying your face into his chest as he restrains you

✮ wipes food off the corner of your mouth and eye crust off the corner of your eyes

✮ lifts you up off the ground and throws you over his shoulder with ease

✮ kisses your hands from your fingertips to your palms

✮ gives you rides to places y’all get invited to even if he’s not going because he wants you to be safe

✮ adjusts your bonnet/scarf for you while you lay down (and if you wear glasses– he takes them off for you when you fall asleep with them on accidentally)

✮ grabs you by your neck to kiss you.

✮ makes you put your face in the camera on facetime and constantly telling you “get off paused”

TODOROKI SHOTO

✮ insists on feeding you his food every time he gets something to eat and you’re in his vicinity— he’ll just bring food up to your mouth and say “open”

✮ and shares drinks without not caring one bit about swapping spit

✮ mindlessly kisses your cheek while he studies sitting next to you

✮ will sit in the bathroom with you while you pee

✮ leans his forehead against yours before/after kissing you

✮ brings you around his friends because he wants them to love you as much as he does

✮ constantly hugging you from behind

✮ is quick to defend you any time his father says something slick, and will tell endeavour about himself immediately

✮ will carry you up the stairs if you feel lazy

✮ has a habit of spoiling you that he has no intention of breaking

✮ says “bless you” with the sweetest voice every time you sneeze, and pats your back every time you cough

✮ brushes hair out of your face even if you don’t notice it there

✮ he has a hard time with feelings, so on special occasion— or if he just feels like it, he’ll write you lengthy love letters signed with his initial and a heart at the end

MIDORIYA IZUKU

✮ lays you in his lap when he studies so he can still hold you while he’s occupied

✮ if you even utter the words “i want”, he’s buying it.

✮ always offers to tie your shoes

✮ drags his y’s when he calls you baby or honey (“but babyyyy”)

✮ holds your hand in front of his friends with no shame

✮ wears anything you buy him no matter if it matches his wardrobe or not

✮ licks his lips a lot

✮ lets you mindless play with his hair and he does the same with you

✮ gives the best massages known to man

✮ bounces his leg often, especially when you’re sitting in lap

✮ also always hugs your waist when you sit in his lap

✮ has a highlight for you on his main instagram account that he’s constantly updating because he’s constantly posting you

✮ rushes to zip up your jacket for you before you can do it yourself

✮ pats your head to tease you

feat. katsuki bakugo , shoto todoroki , dabi/toya todoroki

❛ prince!shoto todoroki x princess!reader ❜

awkward hand-holding

he’s sooo hopeless at courtly affection. the first time you try to slip your hand into his, he freezes, startled, then blushes so hard his ears turn the color of his scar. but he doesn’t let go. instead, his thumb rubs shy, reassuring circles over your knuckles, clinging to you. when really you’re the one whose reassuring him. you giggle every time he does it and you end up grasping his hands and taking the lead sometimes.

his private confessions

some nights, when the world is quiet and only the moon peeks in your window, he sneaks to your chambers to talk. he admits his fears—never surpassing his father, failing as a prince, not being enough for you. you comfort him with gentle words and soft kisses, and he holds you like you’re the only thing keeping him on earth. he loves you so much oh myg god

his unspoken promises

he isn’t great with grand declarations, but when you’re alone, he looks at you like you’re the whole sky. sometimes he stumbles over the words—“i… you… mean a lot to me”—but you know what he means, every time he leans his forehead against yours and breathes you in. he’s yours.

he promises you his chastity

one night, you steal a kiss in your sitting room—slow, lingering, and just a little clumsy as you both learn each other’s rhythm. when things get a little heated, shoto gently pulls back, breathless and a bit apologetic. “i want to wait until we’re truly wed,” he whispers, thumb tracing your cheek, and the tenderness in his eyes makes your heart ache in the sweetest way.

the day of your wedding:

the morning of your wedding dawns, soft light through gauzy curtains, painting the whole room in gentle amber. attendants bustle around you, fussing with the pearl buttons on your gown, smoothing your hair, tucking fresh flowers behind your ear—every gesture meant to make you into something flawless. you let them, nodding and smiling when you must, but your heart is a fluttering thing, wild and uncertain.

outside, the palace gardens are dusted in late spring petals, and from your window you spot shoto, standing at the edge of the pond. he’s in formal robes, navy blue, looking somehow both princely and fragile, like something carved from ice just beginning to thaw. he’s practicing his breathing, the way you’ve seen him do before every council meeting—steadying himself, eyes closed, shoulders straight. he looks up, and even from this far you feel it, the invisible thread that tugs you closer to him.

the ceremony is grand, of course—palace halls echoing with music, guests dressed in colors bright enough to dazzle, your parents proud and anxious at your side. king enji todoroki presides with an iron voice, but even he can’t dim the light in shoto’s eyes as you walk down the aisle, every step carrying you away from the cold stories you were raised on, and toward something new.

when you reach him, shoto bows his head, his hand trembling just enough for only you to notice as he takes yours.

“you look beautiful,” he murmurs, barely louder than a breath.

“so do you,” you whisper back, the corners of your mouth lifting, nerves melting away. he smiles—small, shy, utterly real.

the vows are soft and earnest. shoto stumbles over a word, then laughs, and the guests laugh too, the tension breaking like glass. when you recite your promise, his eyes shine, and his thumb find its circular rhythm against your knuckles, grounding you.

the kiss—your first as husband and wife—is soft, tentative, and sweet. his hands are gentle on your waist, and you linger, neither of you rushing, the applause swelling all around. for a moment, it’s just you and him, the scent of flowers and the warmth of sunlight, the promise of new beginnings blooming in your chest.

the rest of the day is a blur of dances and toasts and smiles, but the best moments are the stolen ones:

— when shoto squeezes your hand under the banquet table, his voice low and private, “are you happy?”

— when you find him in the garden as dusk falls, both of you kicking off your shoes and sinking into the soft grass, sharing secrets under the falling petals

— when he pulls you away from the noise, just for a breath of quiet, resting his forehead to yours and whispering, “i want you to know…i choose you. not just today. but every day.”

you brush your lips against his, sealing the promise with another kiss, as gentle and certain as spring after a long, cold winter. the future is a soft, bright thing, and for once you’re not afraid. you’re home.

your consummation:

night falls gentle over the palace, the distant revelry fading to a hush beyond thick walls and closed doors. your chambers glow soft with candlelight, floral lingering in the air, silk sheets turned down by careful hands. you sit at the edge of your wedding bed, still in the white and silver of your gown, the day’s joy shimmering faintly in your skin.

shoto knocks once before slipping in, shutting the door behind him with trembling fingers. he’s changed from his princely robes to a loose white shirt and dark trousers, hair still perfectly parted, but his cheeks are pink, his eyes luminous and nervous in the golden light.

he crosses the room as if moving through a dream, and you both laugh quietly at the awkwardness, nerves fluttering between you like moths. he kneels beside the bed, taking your hands into his, “do you want this?” he asks, his voice low and careful, searching your eyes for hesitation.

you nod, breath catching. “i want you.”

he smiles, slow and relieved, and leans in to kiss you—soft and patient at first. your hands slide up into his hair, tugging him closer, until you’re both breathless, the world outside fading to nothing.

his fingers tremble as he unlaces your gown, kind and unhurried. every brush of his hand sends warmth fluttering through you, the silk sliding from your shoulders in a quiet whisper. he kisses every patch of new skin exposed, murmuring how beautiful you are, his voice growing steadier with each word.

“you’re perfect,” he says, and you believe him, because in this moment, with his hands and mouth trailing love over you, there’s no room for doubt.

you help him with his shirt, fingers brushing the cool plane of his chest, tracing the line where fire and ice meet on his skin. shoto shivers beneath your touch, his own hands hesitant but eager as he explores every inch of you, committing it to memory.

when he finally eases you back onto the bed, he pauses, searching your eyes again, asking for silent permission. you guide him to you, legs parting, hearts pounding.

his first thrust is slow and cautious, his hand slipping into yours, holding tight as you gasp at the stretch. he murmurs your name, over and over, like a plea, pressing kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your neck.

the rhythm you find together is gentle and sweet, more laughter than moans at first, all inexperience and devotion. shoto’s touches grow surer, kisses deepening, your bodies learning one another with every shaky breath. the pleasure blooms slow, a warmth that builds and builds until you’re arching into him, crying out his name as you shatter, his own release not far behind, a quiet, broken sound buried in your hair.

after, he gathers you close, tucking your head under his chin, arms wrapped around you as if he could hold the world at bay.

“thank you,” he whispers, soft and earnest, as if this is a gift you’ve given him. you kiss his jaw, hearts still racing, the two of you tangled beneath the moonlight, soft and shining, the rest of your lives just beginning.

❛ knight!katsuki bakugo x princess!reader ❜

gentle teasing

he calls you “princess” like it’s an inside joke, but sometimes, when you’re alone, his voice goes softer—“my princess,” just for you. you tease him back, calling him “sir kaachan(from his best friend)” or “my knight,” and he huffs, red-faced, but his eyes are fond.

gentle hands, battle scars

he lets you fuss over his wounds, even though he claims he doesn’t need it. you dab salve onto his knuckles, tracing old scars, and he lets you—head bowed, cheeks pink. sometimes you kiss a scar, and he grumbles,

“that’s embarrassing, princess,” but he never pulls away.

jousting champion

during the annual summer festival, bakugo enters the joust, not just for glory, but because he wants you to see him win. he rides out in gleaming armor, your favor tied boldly to his lance. every time he unseats another knight, he glances your way, smirking just for you. when he’s crowned champion, he dismounts and sweeps you up in a spinning embrace right in front of the roaring crowd, his laughter rough and triumphant as he presses his forehead to yours and declares, “all for you, princess.”

color-coded declarations

when you got married bakugo makes it a habit to match the main color of your outfit every single day—if you wear lavender, he’ll have a sash or jacket to match. if you’re in royal blue, his doublet will have blue embroidery or buttons. he even gets his armor customized with tiny colored accents, just for you.

your esteemed knight has a voice kink for you

your knight lives for the sounds you make—moans, cries, the sweet way you gasp his name. sometimes he covers your mouth with his hand just so he can feel it, groaning, “that’s it, princess, let ‘em hear you. let the whole damn castle know who’s fucking you this good.”

oral obsession

bakugo’s got a filthy mouth and loves using it. he drags you onto his lap after a ball, tossing your legs over his broad shoulders, feasting on you like a man starved. he holds you down, moaning into your pussy, sucking and licking until you’re crying out, thighs trembling, fingers tangled in his hair as he makes a mess of your royal composure.

his your desk disasters

late at night, you’re working at your desk when he finds you—always brooding, always overthinking. he shoves your papers aside, lifts you up, and lays you out flat. he fucks you right there, rough and relentless, your hands gripping the edges as he whispers every filthy thing he’s wanted to do to you all day. when you cum, he kisses your throat, low and hungry—“you drive me insane, you know that?”

aftercare devotion

for all his roughness, bakugo’s hands turn gentle after. he wipes you down with a damp cloth, murmuring, “you alright, princess?” before curling around you in bed, tucking you under his chin. sometimes he teases, sometimes he’s quiet, but he always holds you close, thumb stroking your skin as you drift to sleep

how you got engaged:

the evening air inside the great hall is unusually soft— light catching on banners, the murmur of the court like distant thunder. you’re sitting beside your father at the high table, fidgeting with the edge of your goblet, while bakugo stands rigid at his post near the doors, every inch the loyal knight, even as his gaze flickers to you with longing, hope, something wild barely leashed.

your father stands, quiets the hall with a raised hand, and clears his throat. “it has come to my attention,” he announces, voice heavy with authority, “that there is no knight in this kingdom more loyal, more brave, or more deserving of honor than sir katsuki bakugo.” a murmur of surprise ripples through the court. bakugo straightens, eyes wide, jaw set.

“for his years of service, his valor, and…his heart,” your father says, gaze lingering on you with the faintest smile, “i raise him to the station of lord, and grant him the right to take my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

the room bursts into stunned applause—some out of shock, others with true joy. you don’t hear any of it, because your heart is leaping, your hands pressed to your lips in disbelief. bakugo stands there, stunned, then grins—a real, wide, dazzling grin that cracks through every wall you’ve ever seen him build.

he barely waits for permission. you’re halfway across the hall before you even realize you’ve moved, and then you’re in his arms, spun around in a circle, your laughter bright and unrestrained. bakugo buries his face in your neck, voice thick with awe and relief.

“told you, princess,” he mutters, grinning against your skin, “wasn’t gonna let anybody else have you.”

the court watches, a mix of delight and disbelief, as you both hold each other a little too long for decorum. he sets you down gently, hands still on your waist, eyes fierce and soft all at once.

“we did it,” you whisper, tears sparkling in your eyes.

“yeah,” he says, brushing your cheek with calloused fingers, “we did. and i’m never lettin’ you go.”

your father laughs, shaking his head at your joy, and the music swells. bakugo tugs you in for another kiss—public, shameless, triumphant—and you let yourself melt into him, all nerves and hope and sweet, uncontained happiness. tonight, the future is yours, and nothing in the kingdom could keep you apart.

your wedding day:

the chapel is full to bursting—sunlight streaming through stained glass, painting every pew in colors so vividly. the air smells of the flowers and clean, sweet hay from the meadows beyond the castle. your family sits in the front row, regal and misty-eyed, while half the kingdom gathers behind, whispering and sighing, unable to hide their excitement.

you stand at the end of the aisle, heart drumming wild beneath your wedding finery. bakugo waits for you at the altar, resplendent in deep crimson and silver, armor polished and ceremonial sword at his hip. his usual bravado is nowhere to be found—just awe, soft and stunned, flickering in his eyes as he catches sight of you.

you start your walk, each step slow and cherishing, and his lips part like he can’t believe this is real. by the time you reach him, bakugo’s jaw is clenched, his eyes rimmed red. he’s blinking, fighting it, but as you take his hands—steady and warm in yours—he lets out a shaky breath, and tears spill, silent and unashamed, tracking down his cheeks.

you squeeze his fingers, brushing your thumb over his. “hey,” you whisper, a soft laugh bubbling up, “don’t cry, katsuki.”

he laughs, but it cracks, and his voice trembles as he mutters, “shut up. i can’t help it. you look—” he shakes his head, cheeks wet, eyes never leaving yours, “didn’t think i’d get this lucky, princess. i don’t ever wanna forget this.”

the officiant’s words blur at the edges, and bakugo just stares at you like the world’s stopped spinning. when it’s time for your vows, his are rough and halting, choked with feeling:

“i swear—” he starts, then falters, breath hitching, “—i swear i’m gonna love you. forever. protect you, make you laugh, drive you crazy—all of it. you’re my everything.”

you’re both grinning and weeping by the end, the whole court swept up in the warmth of it. and when you’re told to seal it with a kiss, bakugo dips you a little, holding you like you’re precious and unbreakable, his mouth finding yours in a kiss full of tears and joy and every bit of raw hope he’s ever held back.

when you part, you see his eyes still shining, his thumb brushing away your own tears, and you know, as surely as the bells ring and the crowd erupts in cheers, that this moment—this boy—will always be your greatest adventure.

❛ jester!dabi x princess!reader ❜ (despair)

he writes letters laced with longing

the letters he sends are always riddles and riddled with innuendo—“meet me in the north tower, and wear red. i want to see you blush for me.” he tucks them in the spines of your favorite books, pressed between petals and silk, and by the time you find him, you’re already melting for him.

he loves good balcony games

he dares you to slip away during a particularly dull court event, leading you to a high balcony overlooking the kingdom. with the revelers’ music drifting up from below, he presses you against the railing, kisses you slow and sweet, then nips at your ear and whispers, “imagine if they saw us now, princess.”

him behind the throne

court is in full session, nobles droning on about treaties and taxes. dabi stands at your side, performing some outrageous pantomime for the amusement of the children. his fingers, though, slide slowly up the back of your chair, barely brushing your neck, then slip beneath the collar of your dress, tracing lazy patterns until you’re biting your tongue to keep quiet.

the prince’s proposal

you’re venting about the prince who tried to woo you with poetry so terrible it made your eyes water. you’re halfway through mimicking his fake-deep voice when dabi places your leg over his shoulder and buries his face in you, tongue pushing deep. you keep ranting because he likes it, his fingers digging into your thighs every time your voice gets louder.

 “and then he said i was like a rose,” you groan as his mouth closes around you, “a rose. i hate roses.”

dabi mumbles into your folds, “i hate anyone who thinks they get to talk to you.”

the final festival

at the last midsummer festival before your engagement, he pulls you into a hidden alcove and kisses you like it’s the first time and the last all at once. the fireworks crackle above, the colors reflected in his eyes. “when you think of me,” he whispers against your lips, “i hope you remember laughing.” i hope you remember smiling

the day you’re arrangement is announced: 

the throne room is choked with too much gold and too many eyes, the scent of candlewax and perfume clinging to every inch of you. nobles in brocades whisper behind gloved hands, waiting for the grand reveal. you stand at your father’s right side, chin high and hands folded in your lap so tightly you fear you’ll draw blood. a hush falls, the kind that leaves your ears ringing.

they read his name—your intended, your future—and the crowd applauds. your mother dabs her eyes. the prince bows, handsome and dull, everything a kingdom could want. but none of it means anything because your eyes are searching the sea of faces, searching for a single flash of blue flame, a crooked grin behind the mask of a jester.

dabi’s there, leaning against a marble pillar, half-shadowed by heavy velvet drapes. he’s not wearing his usual cap—he’s left that at the door, today he’s only himself, all wild energy pressed into a body that looks almost calm. you meet his gaze and the whole world shrinks, the murmurs and music muffled beneath the rush of your heartbeat. there’s a smile at the corner of his mouth, small and sad, burning with secrets only you understand.

for a moment you’re both children again, sneaking pastries in the garden, giggling behind hedges. hugging each other and promising each other far fetched dreams, then reality surges back, sharp as glass, and you realize this is the last time you’ll ever be just his.

you turn away first, cheeks burning. your father squeezes your arm and the court drones on about alliances and honor. you nod when expected, smile when necessary, and all the while his eyes cling to yours, telling you a thousand things he’ll never say aloud.

when the speeches are over and the crowd disperses to drink and toast your happiness, you slip away into the corridors—silent, trembling, heels echoing down marble halls. you find him in the shadows, waiting where the torchlight can’t reach.

he drags you into a forgotten alley before you can speak. his hands shake as they frame your face, then tangle in your hair, his breath hot at your ear.

“say the word, princess,” he rasps, voice raw, with pain and pleas he’d never admit, “and i’ll set the whole damn palace on fire. we’ll run. you and me.”

your laugh breaks on a sob, desperate and soft. “i can’t. you know i can’t.”

he kisses you like he’s starving, lips bruising, teeth biting. your back slams against the stone, fingers clawing at the laces of his shirt. he lifts you up, legs wrapping around his waist as he pins you there, his mouth hot on your neck.

you gasp, threading your fingers in his hair. “dabi, please—”

he mutters against your skin, “give me everything, just once more. give me all of you, tonight.”

so you do. you kiss him like you’ll never kiss again. you fuck him like you want to die remembering the shape of him inside you. you cling to him, both of you shaking, mouths full of each other’s names and all the words you never had the courage to say.

he fills you so deep you swear you’ll never be empty again. he buries his face in your shoulder, groans out a broken “my princess,” and you shatter for him, nails leaving half moons in his back. in the darkness, with your gown hiked to your hips and his pants undone, you belong to no one else.

when it’s over, he holds you there, breathless and tangled, foreheads pressed together in the dark.

“they can have your hand,” he whispers, rough and trembling, “but they’ll never have your heart.”

the torch sputters, the world outside clamors on, but here, just for a moment, you are still his.

your wedding day:

the day of your wedding comes gray and sullen, the palace alive with trumpets and velvet and the sort of brittle joy that cracks if you press too hard. you’re a vision, every inch of you wrapped in silk and pearls, the crown heavy on your head. outside, banners snap in the wind. inside, the air tastes like the inside of a locked jewelry box—stale, expensive, suffocating.

dabi stands among the crowd, jester’s mask fixed in place, a painted smile that fools everyone but you. his eyes never leave you, not once. not when you kneel, not when you promise to honor a man you barely know, not even when your lips brush your new husband’s cheek, cold as winter glass.

he laughs in all the right places, flourishes his cap, performs his little tricks for the children huddled near the back of the hall. but every so often, when he thinks no one’s looking, his gaze flicks up, dark and simmering, watching the way your hands tremble, the way you almost flinch at the crowd’s applause. he wonders if anyone else notices the sorrow in your smile, the ghost of last night lingering at the edge of your eyes.

inside his own head, the mask slips. bitterness claws at his chest, something ugly and sharp and grief-ridden. it’s not fair—not for you, not for him, not for both of your childish dreams, not for the version of you that existed when the world was only gardens and stolen laughter and the promise of one more midnight.

dabi taps his foot on the ground, a nervous habit he’s never outgrown, and in his mind a plan unfurls—a dangerous, desperate little seed. maybe he could steal you away, just once, just to remind the world that not everything precious has to be given up. maybe he’ll set fire to the sky, break the rules, make them all pay for what they’re taking from you.

but for now, he stands in his fool’s motley and watches you walk away from him, letting the world believe he’s just another performer, when in truth he’s the only one left who knows how to make you smile.

as the ceremony ends, and you disappear behind heavy doors with your new husband, dabi claps with the rest of them—loud, raucous, overdone. but his heart aches for something wilder, something unfinished, and you can feel his eyes on you, quietly promising you that this story isn’t quite over.

.

izuku

izuku midoriya was ninety percent sure you were just being nice to him.

the other ten percent was currently being strangled to death by kaminari.

“midoriya,” kaminari whispered aggressively across the lunch table, “they are flirting with you.”

izuku nearly dropped his chopsticks.

“what?!”

across from him, you looked up innocently from your food. “hm?”

“n-nothing!”

too loud.

too fast.

your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion while kaminari buried his face in his hands.

“oh my god,” he muttered. “this is painful.”

izuku’s face burned hot enough to rival enji todoroki’s flames.

because no.

no way.

you were naturally friendly. that had to be it.

sure, you sat beside him every chance you got. sure, you called him cute when he muttered about heroes under his breath. sure, you grabbed his hands while talking sometimes and looked at him like he’d personally hung every star in the sky.

but that didn’t necessarily mean-

“you made them a homemade bento yesterday,” iida interrupted.

izuku sputtered. “th-they forgot lunch!”

“and you wrote a note.”

“it just said to have a good day!”

“you drew a heart.”

izuku froze.

slowly, horrifically, his head lowered into his hands.

“oh no.”

—

having a crush on you had been manageable at first.

painful.

humiliating.

life-ruining, even.

but manageable.

then you started smiling at him more.

you sought him out after class. you laughed at every rambling muttered analysis he accidentally went on. you touched his arm when you talked to him, casual and warm and devastating.

sometimes izuku caught you staring at him with this unbearably soft expression that made his entire nervous system malfunction.

it got worse after internships.

the second he returned bruised and exhausted, you marched straight into his dorm room, shoved a bag of snacks into his arms, and demanded he take care of himself better.

“you scare me when you forget your limits,” you’d whispered quietly.

izuku had stared at you for three straight minutes after you left.

because nobody had ever said something like that to him before.

not like that.

not with that look in their eyes.

after that, his crush became catastrophic.

—

“i think i’m dying,” izuku whispered dramatically into his notebook.

uraraka looked over his shoulder. “that page just says their name fifty times.”

“I KNOW.”

“you could always confess.”

izuku made a sound of genuine terror.

“no.”

“why not?”

“because what if i ruin everything?!” he hissed. “what if they don’t see me that way? what if i make them uncomfortable? what if—”

“they literally wore your hoodie yesterday.”

izuku stopped.

“…they did?”

“midoriya.”

“i thought they were cold!”

tsuyu blinked slowly. “you are very dense sometimes.”

—

you found him in the training gym late that evening, long after everyone else had gone upstairs.

izuku sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by notebooks, muttering strategy notes to himself while scribbling furiously.

it was honestly kind of adorable.

you leaned against the doorway. “you know normal people sleep, right?”

izuku startled so hard he nearly launched himself into orbit.

“o-oh my god, h-hi!”

you laughed softly. “relax, it’s just me.”

just you.

as if that made anything better for his heartbeat.

“you’re still training?” you asked.

“kinda? i was reviewing everyone’s combat patterns and then i accidentally started taking notes and then—”

“you forgot what time it was.”

“…maybe.”

you walked over and sat beside him.

close.

very close.

izuku immediately stopped functioning.

“you’re warm,” you murmured absentmindedly, leaning slightly against his shoulder.

steam practically came out of his ears.

“i-i’m warm?!”

“mhm.”

his brain short-circuited instantly.

you were touching him.

you were leaning on him.

you smelled nice.

this was dangerous.

“you okay?” you asked, looking up at him.

big mistake.

your face was suddenly inches away from his.

izuku’s soul left his body.

“you have really pretty eyes,” you said softly.

there was a long silence.

then:

“…w-what?”

your expression turned confused. “your eyes?”

izuku stared at you like he’d just been hit with a flashbang grenade.

“you think my eyes are pretty?”

“yeah?” you laughed nervously. “i’ve told you that before.”

“you thought i was pretty?”

your confusion deepened.

“yes?”

izuku’s hands flew to his face. “oh my god.”

“what?”

“oh my god, you were flirting with me.”

you blinked.

“…midoriya.”

“you were flirting with me this whole time?!” he squeaked. “i thought you were just being nice! i thought maybe you pitied me a little but in, like, a kind way—”

“pitied you?”

“i don’t know!”

you stared at him for a second longer before suddenly bursting into laughter.

not mean laughter.

the kind that doubled you over because you genuinely couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

izuku watched you helplessly, face entirely red.

“you seriously didn’t know?” you asked between laughs.

“you held my hand because you were crossing the street!”

“i held your hand because i wanted to hold your hand!”

“oh.”

“you called me pretty once and nearly passed out afterward!”

“i thought you didn’t hear me!”

“i absolutely heard you.”

izuku groaned loudly and covered his entire face with both hands.

“i’m never recovering from this.”

your laughter softened into something fond.

“you’re kind of adorable, you know that?”

that did not help.

at all.

izuku peeked through his fingers carefully. “so… you really like me?”

your expression immediately softened.

“yeah,” you said quietly. “a lot.”

something in izuku’s chest melted completely.

for a second he just looked at you with that wide, soft-eyed expression he always got whenever he felt something too strongly.

then he smiled.

small at first.

then brighter.

warmer.

beautiful enough to make your heart ache.

“i really like you too,” he admitted shyly.

you nudged his shoulder. “i know.”

“you knew?!”

“you stare at me like i personally invented all might.”

izuku made a strangled noise.

“that obvious?!”

“extremely.”

he dropped his head dramatically onto your shoulder. “i’m so embarrassed.”

you grinned. “good.”

after a moment, izuku tilted his head up slightly to look at you.

still pink-faced.

still nervous.

but hopeful now too.

“so…” he said carefully. “if we were both flirting with each other the entire time…”

“mhm?”

“…does that mean i can kiss you?”

you pretended to think about it.

izuku looked seconds away from cardiac arrest.

then you grabbed the front of his shirt and kissed him before he could spiral any further.

he froze instantly.

completely.

for one terrifying second, you thought you broke him.

then izuku kissed you back with all the soft, careful affection he put into everything else, one hand trembling slightly where it rested against your cheek.

when you finally pulled away, he looked utterly dazed.

“…wow.”

you laughed quietly. “wow?”

“i think,” he said faintly, “i understand flirting now.”

bakugo

katsuki bakugo had never been called oblivious a day in his life.

annoying? sure.

aggressive? obviously.

“scarily intense” had been thrown around too.

but oblivious?

absolutely not.

which was exactly why he nearly dropped his dumbbell on his foot when kirishima stared at him from across the gym and said, “bro… they’re totally flirting with you.”

bakugo blinked slowly.

“what?”

kirishima looked genuinely concerned. “you didn’t know?”

“the hell are you talking about?”

“the snacks? the compliments? the way they only save seats next to them for you?” kirishima listed on his fingers. “dude.. they’re literally wearing your hoodie.”

bakugo scoffed immediately. “yeah, because they steal my stuff.”

“because they like you.”

“that’s stupid”

kirishima gave him a long look. “you are so bad at this.”

bakugo almost exploded the entire training room out of irritation alone.

because no. no way.

if you were flirting with him, he would know.

…right??

—

you were sitting in the common room when bakugo got back.

his eyes immediately landed on you, curled up on the couch wearing his black hoodie, sleeves hanging over your hands while you flipped through channels half asleep.

his hoodie.

again.

normally he’d yell about it.

instead he stood frozen in the doorway replaying every interaction he’d had with you over the last several months like a horror montage.

you bringing him spicy food because “i saw this and thought of you.”

you sitting way too close to him during movie nights.

you calling him pretty after training one time and laughing when he nearly choked.

you absentmindedly fixing his collar before class.

the fact that you touched him constantly, which should’ve annoyed him, except somehow it never did.

bakugo felt something awful crawl up his spine.

“oh my god,” kaminari whispered from the kitchen. “he’s figuring it out.”

bakugo whipped around, “shut the hell up”

your head lifted from the couch at the sound of his voice.

“oh hey.” you smiled immediately. “you done training?”

and there it was again.

that stupid soft expression you only used on him.

bakugo stared.

you blinked back.

“…why are you looking at me like that?”

he pointed at you accusingly. “you.”

“what about me?”

“you-“

his brain completely stalled.

kaminari actually pulled his phone out.

“you what?” you asked slowly.

bakugo looked like he was in physical pain.

“you were flirting with me?”

the room went silent.

then mina made a noise so loud it sounded like a dying animal before falling face first into the counter.

your eyes widen.

“…you’re just now figuring that out?”

bakugo’s soul left his body.

“you were?!”

“oh my god,” sero wheezed.

you sat up straighter, suddenly looking embarrassed for the first time in weeks. “katsuki i thought you knew.”

“how would i know that?!”

“you seriously thought i just casually called you handsome all the time?”

“i thought you were being weird!”

“i brought you flowers once!”

“PEOPLE BUY FLOWERS!”

“for romantic reasons!”

“how the hell was i supposed to know that?!”

kirishima was crying laughing by now.

you stared at bakugo for another second before your expression shifted into disbelief.

“wait,” you said slowly. “did you think i was just… friendly?”

“yes?!”

bakugo immediately realized that was the wrong answer.

because your face fell a little.

not dramatically. not enough for anyone else to notice.

but he noticed.

and suddenly the room felt too hot.

“oh,” you muttered, looking away. “okay.”

something ugly twisted in bakugo’s chest.

“no, that’s not—”

“you don’t have to freak out about it,” you said quickly, standing from the couch. “i’m not gonna make things weird.”

“i’m not freaking out.”

“you’re literally yelling.”

“I ALWAYS YELL.”

“that’s true,” Kaminari added.

bakugo detonated a small explosion in his palm without even looking away from you. everyone else shut up instantly.

you rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “forget it, seriously.”

then you started walking away.

and for some reason, that felt worse than the embarrassment.

bakugo moved before thinking.

he grabbed your wrist.

the whole room went dead silent again.

you looked back at him, surprised.

bakugo’s grip loosened instantly, not letting go, just careful now.

“…don’t walk away when I’m talking to you.”

your expression softened a little. “you weren’t talking.”

he opened his mouth.

closed it.

opened it again.

this was stupid. fighting villains was easier than this.

“you really like me?” he asked finally, quieter this time.

your cheeks warmed.

“i mean,” you mumbled, “yeah. obviously.”

obviously.

apparently everyone knew except him.

bakugo felt heat crawl all the way up his neck.

“you’re an idiot,” he muttered.

you blinked. “excuse me?”

“for flirting like a damn background character instead of just saying it.”

you stared at him for two seconds before laughing.

actually laughing.

bakugo thought he might die on the spot.

“you’re unbelievable,” you said.

“and you’re terrible at communication.”

“says you.”

“tch.”

his thumb brushed your wrist absentmindedly before he realized what he was doing.

the look on your face after that nearly killed him instantly.

bakugo looked away first.

“…so what now?” you asked softly.

he hated that question because suddenly everyone in the room was listening again.

he glared over his shoulder. “why are you all still here?”

“nobody’s moving,” mina whispered emotionally.

“you extras are pathetic.”

then he looked back at you.

you were still waiting.

still nervous.

still wearing his hoodie.

bakugo exhaled sharply through his nose.

“now,” he muttered, “you quit flirting like an idiot and let me take you on a real date.”

the silence lasted half a second before the entire room exploded.

mina screamed.

kaminari fell off the couch.

kirishima shouted, “LET’S GOOOOOO—”

bakugo turned violently. “I’LL KILL ALL OF YOU.”

but when he looked back at you, your smile had gone soft in a way that made his chest feel weirdly tight.

“…a real date?” you repeated.

he rolled his eyes, face burning. “don’t make me say it twice.”

you grinned.

“okay.”

and honestly?

bakugo thought maybe being oblivious once in his life wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened to him after all.

todoroki

Shoto Todoroki realized something was wrong when kaminari nearly choked on his drink in the common room.

“you know,” kaminari said carefully, staring at him over the rim of his cup, “most people would consider that flirting.”

todoroki blinked once.

“i was asking a question.”

across the couch, mina buried her face into a pillow to hide her laughter. kirishima failed completely.

“no, dude,” kirishima wheezed. “you literally told them their eyes looked prettier in sunlight.”

todoroki frowned slightly. “because they do.”

the room exploded.

todoroki looked genuinely confused by this reaction.

—

it had started gradually.

you sat beside him during movie nights because he “radiated the perfect blanket temperature.” you stole bites off his plate without asking. you leaned against his shoulder during long study sessions and complained dramatically whenever he moved.

at first, todoroki assumed this was simply how you acted around everyone.

then he noticed you didn’t casually intertwine your fingers with anyone else’s while walking to class.

he noticed you only saved him the last piece of dessert.

only him.

he wasn’t sure what it meant.

todoroki wasn’t experienced with relationships. romance felt complicated and strangely scripted, full of hidden meanings everyone else seemed to understand instinctively.

so he did what he always did when confused.

he observed.

he learned that you smiled differently around him. softer. closer.

you laughed at his dry comments before anyone else realized he was joking.

you always looked for him in a room first.

the realization sat warm in his chest for weeks before he finally accepted it.

you liked him.

the problem was that todoroki had absolutely no idea what he was supposed to do about that.

—

“maybe flirt back?” mina suggested, like it was obvious.

“i don’t know how.”

“just compliment them!”

“that seems insufficient.”

sero snorted. “bro talks like a victorian duke.”

mina leaned forward dramatically. “okay. easy example. if they say they’re cold, you put your arm around them.”

“i already do that.”

everyone stared.

“you WHAT?”

todoroki tilted his head. “they get cold easily.”

kaminari slapped the table hard enough to rattle the cups. “YOU’RE ALREADY FLIRTING.”

“i’m being considerate.”

“that is flirting!”

todoroki went quiet again.

“…oh.”

—

you found him later on the dorm balcony, leaning against the railing while evening sunlight painted half his face gold.

“you escaped,” you said, stepping beside him.

“the common room became loud.”

“that’s because kaminari tried to microwave instant ramen without water again.”

“i see.”

a comfortable silence settled between you.

that was another thing todoroki liked.

silence with most people felt awkward.

silence with you felt easy.

you bumped your shoulder against his. “you okay?”

“yes.”

a pause.

“…i think i accidentally flirt with you often.”

you nearly inhaled your own spit.

“what?”

todoroki’s expression remained completely serious. “apparently some of my behavior is considered romantic.”

your face burned instantly. “apparently?”

“mina gave me a list.”

“oh my god.”

“she said prolonged eye contact was one of them.”

he looked directly at you then.

steady. focused.

the kind of gaze that made it hard to remember basic human functions.

your heart stumbled embarrassingly hard in your chest.

“todoroki-“

“you also hold my hand frequently,” he continued calmly. “and sit very close to me. kaminari says that means you’ve been flirting with me too.”

you covered your face instantly.

from behind your hands, your voice came out muffled. “please stop talking.”

“did i misunderstand?”

“no,” you groaned. “that’s the problem.”

for the first time all evening, todoroki looked surprised.

“you were?”

you peeked through your fingers. “shoto, i’ve been flirting with you for months.”

“oh.”

he was quiet for exactly three seconds.

then:

“wait.”

his eyebrows pulled together slightly.

“you were flirting with me?”

you stared at him in disbelief. “THAT’S the part shocking you?”

“i thought you were naturally affectionate.”

“i called you pretty at least twelve times.”

“i assumed you were observational.”

you laughed so suddenly you nearly doubled over.

todoroki watched you carefully, and something warm softened his expression.

he liked making you laugh.

a lot.

“so,” you said eventually, recovering enough to breathe again, “what now?”

he considered the question seriously.

then, with unusual determination, he reached for your hand and intertwined your fingers carefully with his.

“i think,” he said slowly, “i would like to flirt correctly this time.”

your stomach flipped.

“and how exactly are you planning to do that?”

todoroki looked thoughtful.

“…would buying you your favorite soba be romantic?”

you snorted. “a little.”

“i could also continue staring at you.”

“that one’s terrifying, actually.”

“i see.”

his thumb brushed lightly across your knuckles.

“but you do like me?”

the question was quieter now. smaller.

more vulnerable than anything he’d said all night.

your expression softened immediately.

“yeah,” you admitted. “i really do.”

for a moment, todoroki simply looked at you.

then something rare happened.

he smiled.

small. genuine. warm enough to melt straight through your chest.

“i’m relieved,” he said softly. “i’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

your brain completely short-circuited.

“you can’t just say things like that with a straight face.”

“why not? it’s true.”

“you’re impossible.”

“that’s not what mina said.”

you laughed again, shaking your head.

then you tugged him closer by the sleeve of his uniform.

“come here, pretty boy.”

todoroki blinked once at the nickname before allowing himself to be pulled forward easily.

right before your lips met, he paused.

“…was that flirting too?”

“it absolutely was.”

“i’m improving, then.”

and honestly?

summary: even the perfect are flawed, and that's what makes them perfect. ( or; the five times that todoroki shouto misunderstood what you said.

pair: todoroki shouto x reader

note: this is an old one-shot of mine! wrote it years ago (2022!) and realized that i didn’t post it here so here you go! be nice, thank you. posting this to get my momentum going again, been cooking some jjk and nhl stuff right now so!

Todoroki is not stupid, everyone knows that. The statement itself doesn’t sound right considering that he’s one of the students with the highest rankings in class 1-A. A prodigy he is. From controlling his quirk to written exams, Todoroki is most likely not only able to pull through but to also excel.

His indifference and brazenness are something that you’ve come in terms with a long time ago—whether that is for the better or for worse, you will probably never know. But sometimes, you just can’t help but think if he’s painstakingly blunt or his critical thinking does not exist out of hero work at all. There’s a huge difference between the two and for some reason, the said peppermint-haired guy is on thin fucking ice.

Your first encounter with his unique way with words goes all the way back to your first conversation.

this is technically canon but so many people write him as someone SUPER polite that i feel like atp it's become a headcanon

shoto todoroki is, let's say, underdeveloped socially. it is very obvious that he lacks manners and comes off awfully rude

it definitely causes people to stare at him blankly when he says something, because it could be so brutal but he said it completely blankly OR he says something super mean and actually meant what he said

either way, shoto is not really the type to apologize for his way of communicating or wording things, and he's definitely not going to be super apologetic or mindful to ask people if what he said was socially acceptable

if he is called out for some bullshit he says he'd definitely give an awkward apology

HOWEVER

i think this strictly applies to HIGHSCHOOL shoto (1st and 2nd year specifically) — shoto in his 3rd year & as a pro hero would be very polite and careful with what he says

(he's pr trained)