fujoshirat

[fujoshirat]

Just found motivation to write from a hiatus spiral and it's Shouta Aizawa :,)

Miracle

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x female reader

Warnings: spoilers for BNHA (chapter 282), mentions of pregnancy, bleeding/pain/near-death (NO ONE'S DYING I PROMISE), slight!angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 1,294

A/N: Shouta deserves all of the love in his life ♡ (yay writing my first Aizawa fic!!) also, I apologize for being on hiatus for so long (,,>﹏<,,)

Aizawa Shouta has never been one to believe in miracles.

Not until one walked directly into him with a folder pressed against her chest. “Oof-!”

The moment he tilted his head down and her eyes looked up at his, his world shook violently.

She was the new English teacher, arriving a few years before Class 1-A would ever walk through the gates of U.A. At first, he thought of her as too bright. Like the sun at 11am. Too hot, too bright, too warm. She always volunteered to help with student events, always asked if anyone needed anything.

Aizawa thought she’d burn out in a semester.

But she didn’t.

[Name] stayed.

Her light didn’t dim, not even around him, the resident storm cloud. If anything, she smiled brighter when he passed by, nodded at him in the halls, or caught his eye during staff meetings with a little quirk of her lips.

She laughed gently, like wind chimes in the breeze. Listened better to the problems of their students than most therapists, and did he mention that the students adored her? Everyone loved her, the students, the staff, the parents. And somehow, impossibly… he came to love her too.

It started with grading together at the nearby café. Neutral territory with no workplace gossip. Just two professionals sitting in comfortable silence, sipping bitter coffee and a vanilla frappuccino with the sugar content equivalent to vanilla ice cream, while red pens marked essays and quizzes. Occasionally, she’d giggle at a student’s spelling error and lean in to show him. Sometimes, he’d mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, and she’d smile like he told the best joke she’d heard all week.

They started dating quietly: no handholding at school, no whispered confessions between classes. It wasn’t their style, aways. Little things like late-night checking in texts, them walking together while running errands in the hallways, and [Name] slipping cough drops into his coat pocket before winter arrived were much preferred.

He didn’t know how she found her way into his life.

He only knew that she fit perfectly.

Three years later, in the spring before Class 1-A’s entrance, they got married. No fanfare. No announcement. Just a quiet ceremony (besides Hizashi), close friends and family, and a promise he never thought he’d make.

Now, he wears a thin silver band on his left ring finger and eats his wife’s bento boxes in the teacher’s lounge. No one ever asks about them.

Except for Present Mic (his unofficial best friend), who occasionally leans over and smirks, “Damn, Shouta, she made you kinpira gobo again? You’re spoiled.”

He never denies it.

[Name] still smiles when he gets home from his underground, late-night patrols. She still warms his cold nights with hot tea, optimistic words, and the kind of love he never thought he deserved.

And when she tells him one rainy night that she’s pregnant, he doesn’t say anything. Just pulls her in close, buries his face in her shoulder, and holds his supernova like a miracle.

Even though a miracle appeared to him, Aizawa Shouta didn’t fully believe in miracles.

Not until he was seconds from death and chose to live.

The pain was white-hot and his mind clawed to stay conscious as the quirk-destroying bullet threatened to destroy the one thing that everyone else relied on: his erasure quirk. It wasn't strategy. It wasn’t duty. It was a singular, pounding thought breaking through the agony:

I can’t leave her.

Not now. Not like this.

She was seven months pregnant.

Her body tired and blooming with life. Her hands constantly resting on her belly like it was something sacred. His child. Their child. A tiny heartbeat heard in the silence of their shared nights.

She needed him as much as he need her.

So Shouta fought through the pain—

and he cut his right leg off before the bullet could even do anything.

He fought until they said he was stable.

Until they wheeled him into a sterile hospital room.

Until she was there—falling to her knees beside his bed, his supernova gripping his hand so tightly it ached worse than the wound. But he didn't let go. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. And neither did she.

Her voice cracked as she leaned into him, her other hand trembling over her belly. “I was so scared, Shouta… I thought I’d lost you. I thought—” [Name]’s words broke with a sob. “You weren’t doing so good and! And the baby—she—she stopped moving for hours, I thought—”

He sat up slowly, weak but alive, and cradled her face in his rough hand.

“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

And [Name]—the woman who never asked the world for anything, who always gave more than she had—pressed her forehead to his and whispered, “She’s not coming out until this world is safe. Do you hear me? She’s staying in until the war is over.” [Name]’s voice was firm, still gentle and honeyed, but firm. Determined to sway any fate or destiny that the “gods” may have over her child.

He closed his eyes and let out a breath that tasted like blood and gratitude.

A miracle, he thought.

He shouldn’t be alive and shouldn’t have his quirk.

But the spark was still there, burning inside him,

and so was he.

A miracle.

Shouta Aizawa now believes in miracles,

And he’s holding one now.

It’s been a month since the final war against Shigaraki and All for One ended, and two since he almost lost his own quirk. The world is still aching and full of open wounds, but its healing.

And in the dim, quiet light of a hospital room, he cradles six pounds of everything he never thought he’d have.

Their daughter is small but strong. She’s wrapped in a lavender hospital blanket, her tiny fists curled cutely as she sleeps. Her soft hair is jet black—his, with the faintest violet tint when the sun hits it just right.

She has his skin, and her mama’s smile. Long lashes fluttering against cheeks as delicate as petals.

His wife rests in the bed nearby, eyes half-closed, voice hoarse but calm. Exhausted, but radiant in the way only new mothers are: touched by the divine. [Name] watches them with a quiet smile that speaks volumes: We made it.

The nurse smiles as she finishes jotting down the final notes. “She’s beautiful,” she says. “Have you decided on a name?”

Aizawa looks down at the baby in his arms.

At proof.

Substantial, physical, living proof that miracles do happen.

The breathless, burning truth that maybe, just maybe, not everything in his life has to be pain.

For a moment, he’s silent.

Shouta’s mind drifts back to a quiet evening years ago. They were in a cafe after work, not grading papers but instead, learning about each other.

[Name] had been animated, as usual, and Shouta was there, listening.

“My favorite word,” the English teacher said, voice low and certain,

“is the unexpected but much welcome event that defies all odds, defies the fate that the gods set.”

Shouta had frowned slightly, intrigued but skeptical.

“They call it a ‘miracle’ in English.”

That word—miracle—had stuck with him.

Because this tiny little girl, this fragile hope resting on his chest, was exactly that.

“Mirai,” he says finally, voice steady.

“It sounds like ‘miracle.’”

Mirai.

The third, final miracle that Shouta certainly didn’t feel like he deserved.

But maybe this time, the gods were smiling down at him, this quiet, broken man whirled up in war and left to help pick up the pieces of society.

Blessed with a child, handpicked from the stars in the universe, the perfect mix of his genetics and that of his love’s.

A star the emerged from the hatred, the bloodshed, the inferno,

a miracle.

[fujoshirat]

Miracle

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x female reader

Warnings: spoilers for BNHA (chapter 282), mentions of pregnancy, bleeding/pain/near-death (NO ONE'S DYING I PROMISE), slight!angst with a happy ending

Word Count: 1,294

A/N: Shouta deserves all of the love in his life ♡ (yay writing my first Aizawa fic!!) also, I apologize for being on hiatus for so long (,,>﹏<,,)

Aizawa Shouta has never been one to believe in miracles.

Not until one walked directly into him with a folder pressed against her chest. “Oof-!”

The moment he tilted his head down and her eyes looked up at his, his world shook violently.

She was the new English teacher, arriving a few years before Class 1-A would ever walk through the gates of U.A. At first, he thought of her as too bright. Like the sun at 11am. Too hot, too bright, too warm. She always volunteered to help with student events, always asked if anyone needed anything.

Aizawa thought she’d burn out in a semester.

But she didn’t.

[Name] stayed.

Her light didn’t dim, not even around him, the resident storm cloud. If anything, she smiled brighter when he passed by, nodded at him in the halls, or caught his eye during staff meetings with a little quirk of her lips.

She laughed gently, like wind chimes in the breeze. Listened better to the problems of their students than most therapists, and did he mention that the students adored her? Everyone loved her, the students, the staff, the parents. And somehow, impossibly… he came to love her too.

It started with grading together at the nearby café. Neutral territory with no workplace gossip. Just two professionals sitting in comfortable silence, sipping bitter coffee and a vanilla frappuccino with the sugar content equivalent to vanilla ice cream, while red pens marked essays and quizzes. Occasionally, she’d giggle at a student’s spelling error and lean in to show him. Sometimes, he’d mutter a sarcastic comment under his breath, and she’d smile like he told the best joke she’d heard all week.

They started dating quietly: no handholding at school, no whispered confessions between classes. It wasn’t their style, aways. Little things like late-night checking in texts, them walking together while running errands in the hallways, and [Name] slipping cough drops into his coat pocket before winter arrived were much preferred.

He didn’t know how she found her way into his life.

He only knew that she fit perfectly.

Three years later, in the spring before Class 1-A’s entrance, they got married. No fanfare. No announcement. Just a quiet ceremony (besides Hizashi), close friends and family, and a promise he never thought he’d make.

Now, he wears a thin silver band on his left ring finger and eats his wife’s bento boxes in the teacher’s lounge. No one ever asks about them.

Except for Present Mic (his unofficial best friend), who occasionally leans over and smirks, “Damn, Shouta, she made you kinpira gobo again? You’re spoiled.”

He never denies it.

[Name] still smiles when he gets home from his underground, late-night patrols. She still warms his cold nights with hot tea, optimistic words, and the kind of love he never thought he deserved.

And when she tells him one rainy night that she’s pregnant, he doesn’t say anything. Just pulls her in close, buries his face in her shoulder, and holds his supernova like a miracle.

Even though a miracle appeared to him, Aizawa Shouta didn’t fully believe in miracles.

Not until he was seconds from death and chose to live.

The pain was white-hot and his mind clawed to stay conscious as the quirk-destroying bullet threatened to destroy the one thing that everyone else relied on: his erasure quirk. It wasn't strategy. It wasn’t duty. It was a singular, pounding thought breaking through the agony:

I can’t leave her.

Not now. Not like this.

She was seven months pregnant.

Her body tired and blooming with life. Her hands constantly resting on her belly like it was something sacred. His child. Their child. A tiny heartbeat heard in the silence of their shared nights.

She needed him as much as he need her.

So Shouta fought through the pain—

and he cut his right leg off before the bullet could even do anything.

He fought until they said he was stable.

Until they wheeled him into a sterile hospital room.

Until she was there—falling to her knees beside his bed, his supernova gripping his hand so tightly it ached worse than the wound. But he didn't let go. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. And neither did she.

Her voice cracked as she leaned into him, her other hand trembling over her belly. “I was so scared, Shouta… I thought I’d lost you. I thought—” [Name]’s words broke with a sob. “You weren’t doing so good and! And the baby—she—she stopped moving for hours, I thought—”

He sat up slowly, weak but alive, and cradled her face in his rough hand.

“I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m here.”

And [Name]—the woman who never asked the world for anything, who always gave more than she had—pressed her forehead to his and whispered, “She’s not coming out until this world is safe. Do you hear me? She’s staying in until the war is over.” [Name]’s voice was firm, still gentle and honeyed, but firm. Determined to sway any fate or destiny that the “gods” may have over her child.

He closed his eyes and let out a breath that tasted like blood and gratitude.

A miracle, he thought.

He shouldn’t be alive and shouldn’t have his quirk.

But the spark was still there, burning inside him,

and so was he.

A miracle.

Shouta Aizawa now believes in miracles,

And he’s holding one now.

It’s been a month since the final war against Shigaraki and All for One ended, and two since he almost lost his own quirk. The world is still aching and full of open wounds, but its healing.

And in the dim, quiet light of a hospital room, he cradles six pounds of everything he never thought he’d have.

Their daughter is small but strong. She’s wrapped in a lavender hospital blanket, her tiny fists curled cutely as she sleeps. Her soft hair is jet black—his, with the faintest violet tint when the sun hits it just right.

She has his skin, and her mama’s smile. Long lashes fluttering against cheeks as delicate as petals.

His wife rests in the bed nearby, eyes half-closed, voice hoarse but calm. Exhausted, but radiant in the way only new mothers are: touched by the divine. [Name] watches them with a quiet smile that speaks volumes: We made it.

The nurse smiles as she finishes jotting down the final notes. “She’s beautiful,” she says. “Have you decided on a name?”

Aizawa looks down at the baby in his arms.

At proof.

Substantial, physical, living proof that miracles do happen.

The breathless, burning truth that maybe, just maybe, not everything in his life has to be pain.

For a moment, he’s silent.

Shouta’s mind drifts back to a quiet evening years ago. They were in a cafe after work, not grading papers but instead, learning about each other.

[Name] had been animated, as usual, and Shouta was there, listening.

“My favorite word,” the English teacher said, voice low and certain,

“is the unexpected but much welcome event that defies all odds, defies the fate that the gods set.”

Shouta had frowned slightly, intrigued but skeptical.

“They call it a ‘miracle’ in English.”

That word—miracle—had stuck with him.

Because this tiny little girl, this fragile hope resting on his chest, was exactly that.

“Mirai,” he says finally, voice steady.

“It sounds like ‘miracle.’”

Mirai.

The third, final miracle that Shouta certainly didn’t feel like he deserved.

But maybe this time, the gods were smiling down at him, this quiet, broken man whirled up in war and left to help pick up the pieces of society.

Blessed with a child, handpicked from the stars in the universe, the perfect mix of his genetics and that of his love’s.

A star the emerged from the hatred, the bloodshed, the inferno,

a miracle.

[fujoshirat]

𝓢𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽𝓼

"𝐼𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎, 𝐼 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓁𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓎𝑜𝓊. 𝒯𝑒𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒷𝓎, 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓂 𝓈𝑜 𝒷𝓁𝓊𝑒? 𝒲𝒽𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹? 𝑀𝒶𝓎𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝒹."

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x female reader

Warnings: slightly OOC!Shouto, DONT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE CHUBBY OR SHY READER 👹👹👹 (that’s the premise of the fic but ok), mentions of bullying, mentions unhealthy beauty standards, user has a quirk good enough to get her into the hero course at U.A. :), angst with a happy ending, inspired by "Sports" by Beach Bunny

Word Count: 2,393

A/N: Ouch, this one hurt :,) ; if you don't want female reader then use your imagination; I DO NOT CONDONE BULLYING OR BODY SHAMING, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY YOU ARE♡

Junior high girls are mean, especially the rich kind at your school.

You’ll walk through the halls, just trying to get to class, and they’ll all greet you with their bitter honey voices and long, skinny legs. They’ll walk next to you, asking about your morning while flaunting their long, skinny legs through rolled up skirts. They won’t stop even when you reach class, and only when the teacher walks in and yells at them to get to their seats and roll down those skirts will they disperse and leave you alone.

It was a vicious cycle, the only relief being the quiet of your home—your new home.

It had been a week since you officially moved into your new neighborhood in Kawagoe City. Your father’s new position at his architectural firm had uprooted the family to the bustling city, meaning a new life for you. There wasn’t anything particularly special about the house that your family had moved into. It was located in a safe neighborhood, a ten minute walk from school, and was big enough.

The most interesting aspect of your house was, ironically the neighboring house: a grand, obviously expensive, traditional Japanese home. With two stories and marbled walls, whomever lived there obviously had a salary thrice your father’s. You found out that part was true on your second day of school, when, as you left your house, a boy your age walked out of that house, wearing the boys’ uniform for your school. His red and white hair made it obvious as to who he was: Shouto Todoroki.

Everyone knew about the mysterious son of Endeavor. The girls at your school loved to talk about him too. They loved to talk about his aloof personality, his ice-prince aura, his fascinating height, his clear skin, his flawless grades, his overwhelming strength, his father’s money. But most of all, their favorite topic to talk about was his scar. The blatant, angry red-almost maroon scar, “staining his face” as they loved to put it.

You didn’t see anything wrong with the scar, nor did you agree that it ruined his face. But you never said it out loud, a girl shy and incongruous with the others. You just kept your mouth shut, keeping to yourself and only yourself unless spoken to (but even then, keeping social interaction to a minimum).

Shouto Todoroki isn’t mean, even though he looks like he is.

It happened all by coincidence, after all, both you and him weren’t the social type. It was a stupid paper bag that ripped on your way home from your impromptu trip to the grocery store. As the flimsy material ripped in half, its contents tumbled out.

You gasped and scrambled to pick up the spilt cans of various meats and mixed vegetables, immediately dropping to your knees and gathering what you could. As you do so, your navy blue hoodie bunches up at the sides, your fingers fumbling to hold everything against your chest.

And just as you’re about to reach for the last few cans of tuna, a pair of large, calloused hands reach out and pick them up from the ground. You glance up in surprise, but then your breath hitches in your throat.

Shouto Todoroki is crouched in front of you, silently stacking the cans of tuna and wearing what seems to be his gym clothes. He’s perfectly pristine and poised, like always, except for the small cuts along his forearm. Were those from training? Blood rushes to your cheeks, and you don’t know whether it’s from embarrassment or admiration.

“Y-you don’t have to-! U-uhm-! You know…” You silently curse at yourself for stammering, only choppy phrases able to escape your mouth. The taller boy shakes his head and stands up. “It’s alright, I’m sorry for startling you.” The Shouto Todoroki is right in front of you, the strongest in your year, probably salutatorian, and practically untouchable—yet helping someone like you pick up dropped cans of tuna.

“Thank you,” you whisper, trying not to draw attention to yourself. He watches you stand up, but his gaze doesn’t focus on the obvious weight around your midsection. His eyes don’t burn into it like everyone else your age and at school, as if you don’t belong here. Instead, he even takes some of the vegetables in your hands and looks at you in the eyes.

“You live next door to me, right? Let me walk you home.” Your eyes widen, clearly not expecting such a kind gesture from anyone, especially from him. “Y-Yes, but it’s okay, you don’t have to if you’re going somewhere else. I mean, if you’re busy—” Before you can continue, the heterochromatic boy shakes his head. “I insist, and I’ll be heading home anyways.” You blink again, waiting quietly for him to say that he’s changed his mind or that he was messing with you. But when he doesn’t respond and just waits patiently with you, you sigh and murmur quietly.

“…Okay.”

And so, he walks with you. His eyes fixated on the sidewalk in front of you two, his silence mirrors your own. Once the two of you reach your house, you take the groceries from him. Right before he leaves, you dig through your small purse and pull out three small bandages. You always carry extra, just in case your clumsy mistakes lead to injury. Without a word, you hold them up to him and bow your head.

“Thank you, Todoroki-san.”

And Shouto takes it, firmly, like it means something.

“Thank you.”

And so, it began. Your shared practice of walking to school together, in the rain, in the snow, in the summer heat, and back home. It didn’t matter that you two were in different homerooms. Whomever got to the school gates first waited for the other to walk home together. Only on days when he had training immediately after school did you walk home alone, and it gradually increased as the school year progressed.

You never asked about his scar and stared at it shamelessly, and Shouto never made you feel like you were worth less because your body wasn’t skinny and lanky like the other girls in your school. You gave him bandages when he came home all bruised from training, and he shared his umbrella with you in the rain. You were both outsiders in the same world, not knowing where to belong but in the comfort of each other.

Good things never last, that was a lesson you learned in your childhood, and it seemed as if life wanted to teach you it again.

It was just going to be a mini vacation with your family to a popular camping spot in Chiba. You were only going to be gone for two day.

And when you came back, he was gone.

The Todoroki residence had a sign in front of it that preached “FOR SALE,” and seeing it made your heart break. You had gotten attached to your only friend, just to find out that he had moved without a word. When you went back to school, you learned that was that it was official: the Todorokis had moved out of town. And, according to every heartbroken girl at school, because his father wanted him to go to a different private school to prep for his high school path.

The universe had taken the one person who understood you, and it destroyed you.

.

.

.

You weren’t thinking about it when it happened. You were just walking through the halls of U.A., your first day of high school, looking for your homeroom with your new, self-proclaimed best friend. Setsuna Tokage keeps her arm looped around yours, her extrovert energy almost overloading you.

But it was okay, because Setsuna Tokage didn’t judge you for how your body looked and didn’t care if you were naturally shy. She saw you head towards the hero course classrooms and declared you her favorite person and hadn’t let go of your arm since.

You were smiling at something pleasant she had said, how you and her were going to make so many friends in Class 1B and have the best year ever, when you rounded the corner—

and bumped into him.

Not just anyone, not just a student.

Shouto Todoroki.

The same two-toned hair. The same scar, the same sharp gaze—only taller now, more composed. He looked so much like the boy you used to know, but different in ways that made your chest ache.

Your breath hitched. The world seemed to stop, and you held your breath.

But Shouto? Shouto didn’t react, not at first. As you were about to apologize, to ask how he was doing, he simply nodded and muttered an apology before walking away.

Was it how you looked? Though you never became the skinny supermodel that your former junior high classmates flaunted, you had lost a significant amount of weight. Was it your height? You definitely grew a few inches since you last saw him. Questions raced through your mind as you saw him walk away and silently enter the door to Class 1A.

Maybe you were too foolish to think that he would bother to remember you, let alone even think that he was as attached to you as you were to him. You forced yourself to keep walking, your new friend inspecting your arms to see if you were okay or hurt in any way. You masked the sorrow on your face with a smile, desperate not to cry, not on your first day at your prestigious high school in front of your new best friend.

And in that moment, he was gone again.

By the time that the sun had dipped low over U.A., casting golden streaks across the clean courtyard, you finally had a moment to yourself.

No extroverted friends who had “adopted” you clinging to your arm (who knew that extroverts Kendo and Pony would “adopt” you too!?!), no more boisterous male laughter, and no more overly cheerful teachers. Just you, your aching legs, and your small tote bag seated on a bench underneath a cherry tree. Sitting on the bench, you sigh and let the introvert in you heal.

You were so tired, unbelievably tired, yet the process of becoming tired was so fun. The girls in your class were so sweet and made the best jokes. You weren’t last like usual in the physical examination in hero training, in fact, you weren’t half bad. Setsuna pushing you into the seat between her and Kinoko during lunch was perhaps one of the best parts of your day.

Though it wasn’t perfect, your first day of high school was better than you had expected. People were honestly kind and welcoming. They looked past physical looks and treated people like people.

Having collected your thoughts and ready to go home, you stand up and start heading towards the school gate. You weren’t going to let Shouto’s failure to remember you ruin your entire evening (even though it hurt like hell).

But right before you even step onto the main sidewalk, fast footsteps pound against the concrete. Your name is called out, almost in desperation, and it floats in the air.

You turn around.

And there he was.

Todoroki Shouto, standing in front of you, chest rising and falling like he had just run halfway across campus. His eyes—so different from the cold detachment you had seen earlier—were wide now, searching, knowing.

“It’s you,” he says breathlessly, almost in disbelief. You could feel the raw emotion and vulnerability in his voice, and you had to blink back tears. “L/N…”

You swallow dryly and nod. “It’s me.”

For a moment, both of you just stared at each other, not knowing what to do. Silence stretched between you two, thick with everything left unsaid. Two years is indeed a long time.

Finally, he exhaled. “I didn’t want to leave.”

Your breath hitched, caught in your throat.

“I tried to convince my father to let me stay for another day, to at least say goodbye to you. But…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence, because the story’s missing pieces were filled in.

He wanted to say goodbye.

You felt your chest tighten like it did all those years ago when you realized the burning feeling in your heart. Still not speaking, the taller boy took it as his sign to continue.

“You… you changed,” he murmured quietly. You weren’t sure if he meant the way you looked or something deeper. Confused, you gave him the same truthful yet ambiguous answer.

“So did you,” you whispered back.

After pausing for what seemed like hours, Shouto drops his bag and hugs you. It was light, as if he was afraid that you would shatter, yet warm and too tempting to slip out of.

And when you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around him, his grip tightened, and the walls that you had built up in those two years had crumbled. Without warning at all, you sobbed into his embrace, releasing bottled up sadness and grief. Shouto remained quiet, his right hand gently stroking your hair to soothe you. He didn’t judge your tears, your crying face. Like how he always did, he stood there for you, a silent support that you appreciated greatly.

When you finally pulled back after shedding the last of your tears, his thumb gently rubbed against your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you right away,” he said. “I saw you when we bumped into each other, but I didn’t let myself hope. You looked so confident and strong and…” You interrupt him with a weak laugh. “I’m still me, Todoroki-san.” His chapped lips quirk up into a small smile. “I’m glad.”

A pause, and then…

“Can… can we start over?”

His question caught you off guard, but it provided you with a happiness that rivaled the joy that your new friends from Class 1B gave you.

“I’d like that,” you nodded.

And so, Shouto picked up his bag and escorted you to the station. The walk reminded you of your old routine, the station included because of the far proximity between U.A. and your home. Neither of you spoke, comfortable in the familiar silence reminiscent of the one during your junior high routine.

The new part of this new routine? Todoroki’s hand holding yours.

[fujoshirat]

Hii helloooo may i present to you: Shoto that does not care about showing pda, we already know how he does not adhere to social norms whatsoever so i imagine that he doesn't get why pda is a big deal, if he wants a kiss he wants a kiss, if he wants to hold you in public he wants to hold you in public, simple as that

Hi hello yes!! This is so cute and real (≧∇≦) Tysm for sending in the idea :)

______________________________________________________________

Shouto doesn’t understand social norms, and nor does he adhere to them. Obviously, he won’t actively try to make out with you in the common rooms of the U.A. dorms, but he doesn’t see the big deal over PDA. It just flows naturally for him. If he wants to hold your hand in the hallway, he’ll sneak close to you and ask. If he wants a kiss before class, he’ll walk up to you and ask for one.

His ideology is this: Your relationship with his is you and his business, not Class 1A’s or the U.A. faculty’s or his father’s. It’s you and him in the relationship, and he’d like to keep it that way.

Shouto isn’t the nosy type either, so the same way goes in his mind. Other peoples’ business is not his own to know.

Aaaaaaand, like all gentleman, Shouto knows to ask for consent. Even if it’s a simple kiss, he’ll ask you because he does not wish to make his love comfortable.

“Y/N, can I have a kiss please?”

“Can we cuddle? Please?”

“May I kiss you?”

“Are you okay?”

All in all, Shouto’s business (you) is his business and he’d like to keep it that way <3

______________________________________________________________

Tysm again for sending such a sweet request for me to work on @kaiyalls-momma ◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜Have a wonderful day/night <3

[fujoshirat]

I am absolutely INLOVE with how you write Shouto! It suits him so well that he has a big family 😭🤧

There is something I am curious about. How do you think would he be as a new dad? Especially when he found out he was having twins for the first time.. could you write a fic/scenario about this? and would he gain more confidence with his dad skills as time goes by? Thanks for reading this req 😇🫶

Aww! I’m so glad that you enjoy my writing and headcanons!! Tysm as well for asking, if you couldn’t tell, I LOVE writing about domestic Shouto </3

Also sorry that I couldn't respond immediately! I wanted to make sure that I answered all that you asked in the request ><

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m pregnant.”

The moment you uttered those two words, Shouto’s jaw dropped. It closed a few seconds later, then opened, then closed. If not for the tense, life-changing situation, you would have laughed.

But this was not a joke.

After almost 5 minutes without a response from your husband, you sigh and turn around, ready to retreat to bed to cry. However, as you turn around, a strong arm grabs your waist and pulls you to him. The young hero buries his face in your lower back, breath shaky.

“Shou?” Your voice came out quieter than you wanted, but you were nervous too. Before you could continue, he began to speak.

“Y-You’re pregnant?”

Swallowing hard, you nod and turn to face him. Your hands gingerly cup his face, feeling the smoothness of his cheeks. “Yes, Shou,” you say breathily. “I’m pregnant.”

And with that affirmation, Shouto nodded wordlessly, stood up, and hugged you. Through the silence, you could feel your shoulder getting damp, and that was all you needed to feel to know how he felt.

I’m scared, but I’m here for you and our child.

A very Shouto Himura Todoroki response, perhaps too nonchalant or emotionless for other women, but this was your man, your husband, your love.

The second time Shouto had a very Shouto response was a week later. Laying on the flimsy parchment paper of the private room of the clinic, you anxiously squeezed your husband’s hand. The doctor was so gentle and sweet, a smile on her face as she did the ultrasound.

“Ah, there we go! Now, as you can see, Todoroki-san, there is a little head right here and-oh! I see another one~!” The young doctor turns to Shouto and smiles. “Congratulations, Todoroki-san, your wife is having twins!”

Right as those words tumbled out of the doctor’s mouth, your husband’s eyes widened and his fingers almost slipped through your grasp. You gasped, clutching his hand, earning a worried look from the doctor. “T-Todoroki-san!?!”

Ah yes, your husband, the one that will NOT be giving birth, almost fainted after hearing the fact that you were carrying twins—no, his twins.

Twins? Twins!?! He hasn’t even had experience with one kid yet, and now she’s telling him that there's two?!?

Another very Shouto Himura Todoroki response, a little worrying but hey, your man is okay and here to support you, no matter what.

It has been almost 4 weeks since you left the hospital, and Shouto feels like this is the hardest exam yet.

Your husband being on paternity leave is a huge help, but sometimes it feels like even your husband needs babysitting.

Right now is one such moment.

It was peacful a few minutes ago, you swore. You put the twins down on his lap before going to the bathroom, so why was there suddenly a ringing, crying noise from downstairs? You groan internally, exhausted and clearly needing an extra 12 hours of sleep, and you descend down the stairs. “Shouto? Is everything alright?” Following the sound of the wailing, you enter the living room and see him awkwardly trying to soothe the crying infants.

“What happened?!” You have to half-shout just to make him hear you.

“I-I don’t know, angel! I tried feeding Aki the bottle and-!” Oh bless this man’s kind heart, but he did not know ANYTHING about carrying for babies. Sighing, you take both Aki and Haru in your arms and shush them by putting their pacifiers back in their mouths. Like magic, their harmonious crying stopped, replaced by the sound of soft sucking. You chuckle at the twins before looking up at your husband, a shy, disappointed look on his face.

“Sit down, Shouto.”

He nods and sits down, watching you sit down next to him. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, love—I don’t even know what I’m doing!” You sigh and smile softly.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’re new to this and we’re still figuring this out.”

“I know… but I feel like I’m doing everything wrong. You’re so good at this, and I’m not.”

You frown at his words and reach out to hold his hand.

“Hey, don’t say that. You’re doing amazing and the damn-best job ever for a first-time father! And I’m flattered that you think I’m so good at this, but even I mess up too!” The way that your husband sulks is too cute, and a soft laugh escapes your lips.

“As we continue navigating parenthood, we’ll get even better, okay? But don’t beat yourself up about this baby. You’re doing your best, and that is all I can ask for.”

Shouto nods slowly, still unsure about everything, but he understands where you are coming from. He can’t be perfect the first time, but he’ll continue doing his damn best for his family.

And pro hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job.

Parenthood and the 9 months of your pregnancies are a rollercoaster, but it is Shouto’s favorite job.

He’s definitely gotten more comfortable with the twins and definitely knows better about babies. There are so many ups and downs to being a pro-hero parent, but he’s ready to accept every day with an open heart. He still uses what he learned at U.A. and his hero skills: spidey-senses activating when he sees Yueru bravely climb out of her crib and almost landing on the rug if it weren’t for his reflexes, knowing how much baby formula to make per bottle when you’re taking a nap and the twins are hungry, patiently teaching Haru how to do his hiragana characters when all he wants to do is color the animals on the edges of the worksheet.

One could say that your husband is a professional father already, and you couldn’t agree more. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

urgh I'm dying from cuteness overload (๑ > ᴗ < ๑) I hope this answered your request, anon! TYSM once again for your love and support ❤︎❤︎

[fujoshirat]

hellooo allow me to plant some dad!Shoto thoughts in your mind hehehe 🫶🫶

• Dad!Shoto who took more than half his load of taking care of the twins when they were teeny tiny babies

• Dad!Shoto who meticulously plans the wedding anniversary and had his babies be involved in the surprise for youuu

• Dad!Shoto feels guilty for times he can't attend school functions for his kids 😓

• Dad!Shoto 10/10 still wants more mini you's

So cuteness!!!! Thank you so much for these adorable thoughts, anon!! I hope you don’t mind me using my OC!children as well ><

A/N: (´｡• ω •｡`)/ yay I'm alive after around 3 months of inactivity😅

Dad!Shouto definitely takes on more load than you insist. Especially with Aki and Haru, his first children. Because he’s new and unsure of this “father role,” you have to guide him a lot. Cue a lot of “Will holding him like this hurt him?” and “How do I feed him?” Sometimes you have to remind him that even though they are vulnerable babies, they aren’t literally made of glass.

Once he does get comfortable (whether that’s after Aki and Haru get older or even when you have Yuu and Yue), it’s game over. Suddenly, he’s able to do pushups with a little one giggling on his back and carrying both male twins while doing the laundry so that you can finally nap.

Dad!Shoto never does a half-assed job (ehe, reference to one of my other works). Whether it’s his job as a pro hero or cooking when you feel too tired to make dinner, he does his absolute very best to succeed.

This includes planning important celebrations of milestone events, one important one being your wedding anniversary.

Dad!Shouto goes alllllllllll out for your wedding anniversary! He’s got all bases covered: your favorite flowers, breakfast in bed, the entire day off, and all three meals covered.

Every new Todoroki child brought into the world makes the celebration even better. They’re so cute, so eager to help like their father :( It starts off as something small, a little messy handwritten letter or a drawing of what looks like their mother. Once at the ripe ages of 5, 7, and 9? Suddenly, you wake up to the sound of laughter in the kitchen and a mess of dough and flour all over the kitchen counter. Some anniversaries, it will be bickering over who gets the window seat on the upcoming flight that your husband booked.

Dad!Shouto is DEFINITELY 100% the type of father to always want to make it to school functions to support his kids. As the busy, No. 2 hero, of course, that isn’t always possible

And of course, filming is a MUST. Dad!Shoto has a camera specifically used for filming his children’s achievements. Each one of your kids has a video in the mix.

Dad!Shouto is also the type of father to be out of the country but then fly in last minute and make it as a surprise!!! He tries not to do it often because it’s risky and he might not make it on time due to delays, but if he’s provided the window of opportunity, he’ll take it (and text you beforehand, of course, because mama can keep a secret 😉)

And finally, it’s no surprise that Dad!Shouto 10/10 still wants more mini you’s. Like man 🤨 children are expensive and hard work, not to mention that he’s already got 5!! We know you’re rich sir but five is enough

He can’t help it, his wonderful wife and children overload his heart, giving him meaning to his life and making the traditional house in the pretty, modern gated neighborhood worth coming home to.

Once again, TYSM anon for your support and headcanons!! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

[fujoshirat]

i just wanna say that i love ur Shouto fics sm 💗🫶🏻 they just give everything and how i imagine Shouto is in a relationship. Princess treatment 4L 💪🤍🌹🌺🌺🌺

Aww! Thank you so much and I'm glad you love them 😖😖 Shouto definitely is the type of boyfriend to treat you like a princess and the type of husband to treat you like a queen BC U ARE HIS QUEEN

Also when he becomes a father with daughters, he'll totally treat them like little princesses. With an infinite budget and infinite love, all of the special women in his little family are treated like royalty 💖💖

[fujoshirat]

Sometimes I see before and after 8 year timeskip picture comparisons of Shouto on my Instagram/tumblr and it makes me happy and sad at the same time bc like yay!! We get to see adult!Shouto!!!! But then oh no :( I miss my bby's chubby mochi cheeks and baby fat </3

RIP Shouto's chubby cheeks your fans miss them </3

ik i posted something like this before when the chapter came out but i still can't get over it IM SORRY </3

[fujoshirat]

Thinking about a rocky relationship with Zuko feeling like SOS Deluxe: LANA—

warnings: angst, toxic relationship, implied sex without descriptions

Imagining the whirlwind you’ve both fallen in, emotions a storm of fire and chaos. Vases and hearts broken and waiting to be put back together with cheap fixes. Thought you and him were forever, endgame, cycles of fighting and makeup sex. Dancing and kissing in the back kitchen of the Jasmine Dragon makes your heart clench and causes your brain to forget. Cursing him and hitting lows in the relationship the norm, blindly forgiving each other. He wasn’t a prince back in that sweet little city, unrestricted by his royal duties and expectations. Why was it so different back then? You wish he had an answer.

Can we talk about how handsome Zuko is? Young and fine and dark and handsome, bossy with a voice so fine. Making your panties wanna drop, damn. And you know you’re not the one, but playing pretend is all you’ve ever known with him.

You’re so sick of everything, he’s so sick, you’re so sick of you too. But the attachment is unbearable: “chill baby, don’t go” going back and forth every time. Love me 4 me—a phrase neither of you are unfamiliar with. A scar there, girls you're sure are much prettier than you there, you’re both so odd in your own ways. Maybe that’s what got you in this situation in the first place.

Sometimes, you’ll have sweet dreams of whatifs, in another life, maybe you could have overcome it all. He was your diamond boy, real smile blinding once he let his heart show. Seeing his soft side in contrast to his untouchable nonchalance hurts in a way. In a life and heart that has no room for you, you blindly believe that perhaps, in another timeline, in another story, in another life, you would be his first choice.

Now, only a shell of who you thought you were remains. Muddled lines and feelings, the memories of his soft skin on yours desperately trying to relight the fire between you two make it all more blurry.

Self respect? I’d rather die.

this album ruined me when it came out (in a good way) #iloveyouSZA

[fujoshirat]

1A Big Three as Hallmark Christmas Movies! ⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★ Warning: Infinite cringe (movies that your mom will definitely probably want to watch) A/N: thought of this this morning and had to write it down before I forgot it (I miss Christmas :()

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★

🎄Zuzu (Izuku Midoriya) – “Home for the Holidays” You swore you’d never come back to this tiny town, but here you are—back for Christmas, only to find that your childhood best friend, Izuku Midoriya, is now… ridiculously attractive? And somehow, your nosy family and meddling townsfolk are determined to push you two together. But wait—what’s this? Old misunderstandings, heartfelt confessions, and the town’s annual Christmas Festival (which you have to help organize: damn you, rotten aunties!) all stand in the way between leaving for good. Can love really find its way home?

“Izuku, you don’t have to kiss me just ‘cause of the mistletoe.”

“I know, but I want to.”

"But-! What about-"

"It was never her, Y/N, it was always you."

——————————————————————————————————

🎄 Kats (Katsuki Bakugou) – “A Sugar Cookie Christmas” Katsuki Bakugou never planned to be a single dad, and he sure as hell doesn’t have time for love. Between raising his adorably feisty daughter and settling into this tiny, Christmas-loving town (at least it’s safe for Mahoro), he’s got no patience for romance. Enter you: his too-cheerful, too-sweet, and way too nosy neighbor. His daughter takes a liking to you immediately (betrayal!), and despite his best efforts, Katsuki finds himself getting wrapped up in late-night cocoa dates, reluctant holiday cookie decorating (babysitting, he swears!), and… feelings?! No way. He doesn’t do feelings anymore. (Spoiler: he totally does.)

“You don’t have to do everything alone anymore. Our neighbors are willing to help!”

“I’ve been doing everything alone for years, I’m used to it.”

“Then, at least let me help you, you’re not alone anymore.”

——————————————————————————————————

🎄 Shou (Shouto Todoroki) – “Christmas on the Farm” Living a quiet life on your family’s Christmas tree farm was all you ever wanted. After graduating college with a bachelor’s degree in business, it’s time for you to give back to your parents for supporting you!—until a very expensive suit and a very familiar man answers the door for your neighbor (apparently his mother!). Your sweet, slightly awkward new neighbor, Shouto Todoroki, is actually the heir to the rich asshole trying to bulldoze your farm? And to make matters worse, his dad definitely sees you as nothing more than an inconvenience. But Shouto? Not on his watch. Cue dramatic standoffs, angsty fireside talks, slow-burn romance, and a passionate last-minute “I won’t let my father take this away from you” speech under the twinkling Christmas lights.

“Shouto I-! I can’t believe you just gave up your inheritance like that!”

“It was the easiest decision I’ve ever made, Y/N, and I don’t regret it at all since it’s for you.”

“Oh Shouto…”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖͙͘͡★

[fujoshirat]

Goodbyes ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾ Child Spotlight: Hana Todoroki! ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

Goodbyes are hard for Hana.

She’s a sweet, soft-hearted little girl, attached to the ones so kind and loving towards her. A little girl so full of warmth and love that parting with someone she cared about felt like a piece of her heart was being taken away. And when it came to her papa—her strong, kind, gentle papa—goodbyes felt impossible.

The moment Shouto knelt in front of her, jacket zipped up, luggage by the door, and bag slung over his shoulder, Hana’s lips wobbled. The five-year-old knew what was happening. Sometimes, her papa had to go do something important and wouldn’t come back for what seemed like a long time (weeks felt like years to the little girl).

She tried to be brave, just like Yueru told her to be ("Papa is super strong! He'll be back before you know it!"), but when he cupped her tiny face in his warm hands, she burst into tears. Dropping Sa-kun, the jellycat stuffed animal hitting the ground softly.

“I don’t want you to go, Papa!” she hiccupped, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face against him.

Your husband held her close, stroking her back in slow, soothing motions. “I know, my princess. But I’ll be home soon, I promise.” This only made her cry even more, hot tears pouring down her mochi, cherub cheeks. Shouto’s heart clenched at his youngest’s tears, reminded of how you looked when you cried.

The red-and-white-haired sighed, kissing the top of her head. It was always too long for her, no matter how short the trip actually was. He pulled back just enough to look into her teary eyes. “I'll only be gone for two weeks, and it'll go by so fast.”

Hana sniffled, rubbing her eyes, too upset to respond. Shouto discreetly glances up at his wife, heterochromatic eyes studying your expression. It’s unreadable, a hint of sorrow—emotions mirroring your youngest.

Goodbyes were always hard for you too, even before having children. He already kissed you and the twins goodbye, Hana having stopped him from finally departing. Your eyes were glossy, and he knew tears would soon fall down your pretty face.

“Hana-chan,” Shouto whispers, stroking her (y/h/c) hair. “I need you to do something very important for me, can you do it?” The five-year-old’s doe eyes reflect curiosity as she nods, sniffling.

“While I’m gone, you need to take care of Mama for me. Can you do that, my sweet?” Wiping her snot with her sleeve, Hana shakes her head in response. “Okay… but only if Mama lets me sleep in the big bed.” A soft laugh escapes Shouto’s lips.

“I’m sure she will. Thank you, Hana.”

And just like that, for the next few days, Hana stayed glued to your side. She climbed into the master bed every night, holding her rabbit stuffy and tiny frame swallowed up by one of Shouto’s old shirts that still smelt like him. She refused to sleep without it, hiding it away in her bedroom whenever it was laundry day (you had to make her watch TV while eating dinner just so you could spend 30 minutes trying to find the shirt, and when you found it and put it in the washer, she wouldn’t stop crying until Aki and Haru dug out another of your husband’s old shirts). Even during the day, she stuck close, holding hands, following you around the house while her older siblings were at school, always seeking comfort in the absence of her papa.

Two long weeks without Shouto, and to the rest of the world, it seemed like you were managing everything perfectly.

In theory, you were. Groceries were properly restocked, no uniforms lost their buttons, no plates were dropped. The spitting image of a proper, well-rounded hero housewife. It helped a lot to have 9 years of experience. But emotionally? You felt unstable and drained.

Every night, when Hana clung to you in the master bed, her tiny fingers curled around the fabric of your shirt, you swore you could still smell Shoto’s scent lingering on the pillow beside you. It was comforting and agonizing all at once. You knew he would come back—he always did—but knowing didn’t make the waiting any easier.

Hana wasn’t the only one struggling. One could say that you struggled the most.

The night of Shouto’s flight, you woke up to the feeling of movement beside you. Groggily, your eyes flutter open as little kicks and wiggles nudge your side. The culprit? Your youngest, squirming and shifting around in bed with a small pout on her face. Even though she went to bed with her rabbit, it was no longer by her side. Instead, it was by your neck, tossed carelessly in her sleepy fit.

“Baby,” you croaked, voice heavy with sleep. “What’s wrong? Sa-kun’s right here” Hana sniffled, rubbing her tired eyes full of distress. “’Can’t sleep, mama…” You lift up the blanket, gesturing for her to cuddle up. Hana eagerly tucks herself into your arms, a wave of Shouto’s scent flooding your nose. God, you miss him.

“’Miss Papa,” she whispers, voice wobbily as she hugs her plushy. “When is he coming home?” You shift closer to her, kissing her forehead and stroking her (y/h/c) locks away from her eyes. “Soon, lovebug. His flight should be coming in.” The little girl lets out a tired, shaky breath before nodding against you. Gingerly, you cup her cheek and smile at her.

“You’re tired, Hana-chan. Can you go to sleep for me? You and Sa-kun have to sleep so you can see Papa.”

Hana blinked up at you, her tiny fingers clutching at your shirt and the rabbit. Then, with a slow nod, she nestled closer. Within moments, her breathing evened out, warm and steady against you.

You stayed awake just a little longer, watching over her, listening to the quiet of the house. Yueru and Yuuri in one bedroom and Aki and Haru in another, all four children sleeping peacefully upstairs. It was just you and Hana, in the big bed.

Just as sleep began to pull you under, the faintest sound of the front door unlocking reached your ears. Your brows furrowed, and for a second, your half-asleep brain struggled to process it. Then, the quiet creak of the door closing, the rustle of a coat being shrugged off.

Your heart lurched.

Soft, familiar footsteps padded through the house, moving with careful intent. You barely had time to sit up before the bedroom door eased open, revealing the broad-shouldered silhouette of your husband.

“Shouto?” you whispered, voice thick with exhaustion and relief.

The moment his name left your lips, he was at your side, kneeling by the bed without hesitation. He didn’t even bother putting his things away—his luggage sat forgotten by the door, his jacket abandoned somewhere in the hallway. His eyes, still drowsy from travel, softened instantly at the sight of you both.

“My loves,” he murmured, reaching out to brush his knuckles over your cheek.

Your tired eyes burned as you leaned into his touch, drinking in the familiar warmth of his palm, the faint chill of his travel-worn skin. Shouto recognized it, that tiredness that always seemed to come when he left you, a sense of guilt flooding him.

“You’re home,” you breathed.

His lips twitched into the smallest smile. “I am.”

A soft sigh left you as the tension melted from your body. Your arms fly around him, senses going overload by his presence. He was really here, your husband was home. Cool, soft lips press against yours, a feeling you missed dearly these last 14 days.

Then, as if sensing his presence even in sleep, Hana stirred, making a tiny noise before blinking up at you with bleary eyes.

“Papa?” she mumbled.

Shouto’s breath hitched, and before you could say a word, he shifted onto the bed, gathering your daughter into his arms. Hana let out a soft, sleepy sob, little fingers clutching at his shirt.

“Uwah….”

“I’m home,” he promised, pressing a kiss into her hair.

With Hana snug in his embrace, Shouto looked back at you, exhaustion and love written all over his face.

Making space, you let Shouto tuck in, and he wraps an arm around you while letting his youngest sleep tucked into his chest. It hadn’t even been five minutes, yet she was knocked out cold. Shouto gently takes his daughter’s plushy and tucks it in Hana’s arms, earning a subconscious sigh from her. You also sigh, letting your head rest against his shoulder, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. His familiar warmth felt so nice, like a soft, weighted blanket. “I missed you,” you murmur softly. Shouto’s throat tightens at your words. "I missed you too, Y/N."

Nothing compares to actually being with you in person, and even though you both facetimed every day, talking and speaking to you on the screen wasn’t enough for the red-and-white-haired man.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, pressing soft kiss to your forehead. “I’ve got you, dove. I’m home.”

Goodbyes are hard for everyone, but with every return, love shared in the moment makes it all worthwhile.

This is a feeling that you, Shouto, and your sweet little (big) family know so well.

☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

[fujoshirat]

Shouto Todoroki the type of man where you ask him “boobs, thighs, or ass?” and he’ll say “all three” and he is telling the truth but in all honesty? Ass. It doesn't even have to be in a sexual way, he’ll pull you close in the comfortable private confines of your dorm room, have you lay down on your stomach, and rest his head on your lovely bottom. Best. Pillow. Ever. Once he’s on his favorite pillow, he’s knocked out for like three hours with the sweetest dreams. <3

[fujoshirat]

✩₊˚.Belated Housewarming—Literally!

Shouto Todoroki x reader

Summary: After your husband's job as a hero deprives you of intimacy and loving, you decide to make his birthday unforgettable with a heartfelt surprise that reminds him just how much he’s missing. The most important part of your plan? That damned lacy, frilly, pink apron hanging in your closet.

Warnings: A18+ (MINORS DNI), FILTHY smut, porn w/ plot, sex marathon, dom!Shouto and sub!reader, cursing, pet names, missionary, doggy style, squirting, oral (female receiving), upstanding citizen, three-legged stance, inappropriate use of a home but whatever floats your (Shouto’s) boat, breeding kink, domestic kink, temperature play, slight angst in the beginning but overall fluff and smut :)

Author's Note: Happy birthday to the man I fell in love with in 2020 ( ˊᵕˋ )♡ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The soft clunk of the dryer shutting off echoed through the quiet house, signaling the end of yet another cycle. Bending down, you toss the clean clothes into the laundry basket and walk to the dining table. The entire house is quiet, save for the soft sound of rain outside and the ruffling of clothes being folded.

Yup, this was your married life: silence in a punctual routine while living in an empty house that felt too large without your husband. For all the joy your wedding brought, no one had warned you how lonely it could feel to be married to the second-best pro hero in Japan.

And you have had enough!

It’s been one year since he proposed, 10 months since you moved in together, and 3 months since you both got married. You knew about what you were signing yourself up for. However, nothing could prepare you for what it was really like being married to a pro hero, no less the second best pro hero in all of Japan! A month after your wedding, Shouto had to hop on a plane to America for a mission with other pro heroes, leaving you alone in the house for three weeks. And in the weeks leading up to Christmas, Shouto would come home exhausted from work and patrol. It would be just past 11, just as you were tucking yourself in to bed (Shouto begged you to go to bed at an early time, even if he wasn’t home yet, but you found that hard to do), and your husband would open the front door. You would feel your heart skip: finally, he was home. But then, he’d stumble through the bedroom door with a tired sigh, eyes heavy with fatigue, and you could see the toll his day had taken on him. His uniform would be rumpled, his hair slightly damp from sweat and snow, and his pretty heterochromatic eyes would be soft and dazed as he quietly greeted you.

“Welcome home, Shou.”

“Tadaima.”

“Long day?”

“Mhm…”

“Are you hungry? I made chazuke for dinner earlier.”

“…”

“Perhaps a warm bath?”

“…”

You’d try to stay awake, to offer him something, anything that might lift his spirits—your smile, a warm meal, even a conversation. But all he seemed to need was sleep, and that’s what he’d do. He’d change into his pajamas (simple black shorts), kiss your forehead, and collapse into bed next to you (whose exhaustion was also a massive headache).

You were absolutely sexually frustrated and terribly missed your husband. As days went on, you longed for more than just his presence in the room. You wanted him. But the mission schedules, late night patrol shifts, and endless demands of Japan left you feeling distant.

Yeah, you were screwed.

And you couldn’t blame him. It had been his dream to become his own hero, not for his father, not to surpass All Might, but for himself. It was his calling, and the nature of his work, no, responsibility, naturally required much time and effort. However, you felt like it only widened the gap between you two as the days went on.

At least Christmas was decent. He finally took off time from work for the important holiday and stayed home with you for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Those two days consisted of cuddling on the couch, hours of talking while a random TV show played in the background. You also visited his family for Christmas Eve dinner and stayed home the entire time on Christmas day.

And now, it was January. It was a new year, but most importantly, Shouto’s birthday was fast approaching. You were sick of this abstinence, it needed to end already! The last time your husband had touched you was 4 months ago on your honeymoon! Grumbling to yourself, you dig a hand through the laundry basket until you find the matching sock and continue your folding. ‘Don’t be selfish, Y/N! You knew that marriage wouldn’t be picture perfect! Get a grip!! Ugh, but I’m so pent up! I need the affection!’

You must be ovulating or really really REALLY horny right now because look at you, arguing with your voices in your head! Sighing to yourself, you finish the last of your laundry and head upstairs to start putting it away. After doing so, you check the time on your phone, the lock screen a picture of you and Shouto cutting the wedding cake at your wedding (photo courtesy of Izuku), and it brings a wistful smile on your face. You looked so happy, and so did he. Shaking your head, you pout and check the time: 10:59am. Getting ready to put the laundry basket away so that you could figure out what to eat for lunch, you spot something in the corner of your eye in the closet.

Upon closer inspection, you open the closet door and see your pink, frilly cooking apron hanging. ‘Huh, weird, I must have been so tired cooking dinner last night that I threw it in here.’ Taking it out, you put it on mindlessly in preparation for in case you need to make lunch because there aren’t enough leftovers. As you walk past the mirror and to the bedroom door, you pause in your steps. Your eyes widen when you an idea comes to mind as you remember how you looked in the corner of your eye when you passed by the mirror.

The apron, with its delicate trim, was really nothing special. It was a simple, pink, frilly apron that you had bought before moving into the house with Shouto. However, in this instant, the delicate lace trim, extra pink bows, and its slightly playful charm instantly sparked a thought. You had always loved cooking for Shouto (and he loved your cooking too), but it wasn’t just about the meals anymore. It was about what you could do for him—what you could show him. You could almost picture the look on his face if he found you, wearing nothing but that apron, waiting for him to come home. That thought sent a thrill up your spine, and you quickly caught your breath, heart racing a little too fast for comfort.

That idea was what you needed, and you knew exactly when to do it and what to prepare. Running down the stairs, you eagerly check the pantry. ‘Y/N! You naughty girl! What are you thinking?’ God, you were mad, insane, the surge of excitement building up in your head like your bottled emotions these past few months. You make a mental note to buy more soy sauce and extra buckwheat noodles tomorrow on your daily grocery store run. It was currently January 03, and you had exactly one week to prepare for Shouto’s birthday. Your idea felt so right, so tantalizing. Surely Shouto was pent up as well? Prior to engagement or marriage, you two never avidly had sex, nor did you avoid it.

And it was his birthday, more importantly, his first birthday celebrated with his wife, you. You wanted it to be extra special, to be a sexy happy memory made in this house. You wanted to make the day about him, so why not kill two birds with one stone? Squealing to yourself, you start cooking up lunch while scrolling through Instagram to find the open hours of a bakery down the street.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

At 6:45am, you slipped out of bed as quietly as you could with as little movements as possible. Taking off your pajamas, you could feel the warm, tantalizing bed with the most handsome birthday boy on earth trying to entice you back to bed. But, no, you were stronger than this! You threw the silky pajamas in the hamper and easily put on your “lingerie:” the lacy, pink, frilly apron. Next, you brush your hair as neatly as possible and put on light blush and mascara to look even more delicious. You have to hold back a squeal when you look at your appearance in the mirror. The flimsy material covered enough to leave room for imagination as well as exposed your body just next to those enticing areas. You felt like the epitome of the balance of sweet and sultry—like Sabrina Carpenter concert outfits—exactly what you were going for!

Your thighs weren’t killing you as much as they did these past few days (you did 50 squats from January 03 to 09, and then 30 yesterday to soothe your poor muscles and give them a break before the real workout you desired). Squats are no joke, but anything to be closer to a BBL on this special day! Entering the kitchen, you open the fridge and pull out a simple, white box. You place it on the counter and hum to yourself, ‘Do I make the cold soba now? Or should I wait?’ You tapped a finger to your chin, glancing at the clock on the wall: 7:01 a.m. There was still plenty of time before you planned to wake Shouto up, so you decided you might as well start cooking. The sooner everything was ready, the smoother your plan would go (plus, you weren’t sure if your legs would be okay if you had to cook lunch in between ykw).

After making your husband’s favorite meal, you quickly throw it in the fridge and grab the cake. Running upstairs as quietly as you can, you let out a relieved sigh when you see that Shouto hasn’t woken up yet—still sprawled on his side, one arm tucked under your pillow (that was “pretending” to be you). Your heart pounded with excitement, and at 7:30am, you place the cake on the dresser. Leaning over, you gently brush a strand of hair from his face.

“Shouto,” you quietly murmur, “wake up, birthday boy.” He stirred slightly at the sound of his voice, his soft expression shifting as his brows furrowed slightly and his nose scrunched up. “Mmm…” You have to hold back a laugh—he’s so cute!

“Shouto,” you call a little louder, amusement evident in your tone, “time to wake up!”

This time, his mismatched eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep. His left hand reaches up to caress your cheek as his right hand rubs his eyes. For a moment, he blinked his sleepiness away, still looking up at your face.

He smiled tiredly, exhaustion from last night’s patrol evident, until, in the corner of his eye, Shouto swears that you’re wearing a tank top. Tilting his head slightly downward, his gaze lands on what you’re wearing.

“Good morning, and happy birthday!” you smile shyly, desperately trying to ignore the burning feeling in your cheeks. “Did you sleep well?” Face filled with confusion, his eyes wander down further, and he takes in what you’re wearing (or rather, not wearing)—just one article of clothing (if it could even be called that):

That damned lacy, frilly, pink apron that you use when cooking.

Pink dusts his cheeks, mouth opening to speak, then closing. Shouto was speechless, realizing what today’s occasion was.

“Y-you’re—” His voice gets caught in his dry throat, and he swallowed hard. “Y-you’re wearing just that?” You tilted your head innocently, pretending not to understand. “Why? What’s wrong with it?”

Shouto blinked, his hand reaching out almost instinctively to rest lightly on your hip, his fingers brushing the soft ribbon tied around your waist. “No, nothing’s wrong,” he said softly, his voice barely above a murmur. You giggle at this and move his hand away. “Ah-ah-ah! That, is for later. Aren’t you hungry for breakfast? I got you a cake!” You cheerfully open the cake box and hold it up to him. The fluffy sponge and layers of whipped cream topped with plump, glistening strawberries all add to the strawberry shortcake’s appeal. You watch Shouto sit up straighter, eyes practically sparkling at his breakfast.

“Strawberry shortcake,” he murmurs, “my favorite.” You smile and stand a little closer to him. “I know! That’s why I got it-” Suddenly, you’re cut off when his palm grabs your plump flesh. Not expecting this, you slightly jolt in surprise and grip onto the cake so to not let the beautiful creation get destroyed.

“I want this cake for breakfast, Y/N.” His velvety, smooth tone sends shivers down your spine—and the smirk on Shouto’s face and his mismatched eyes full of mischief blatantly focused on the furious blush on your face tells you all that you need to know: That bastard knows that he’s doing!! “Shou!” You huff, voice wavering as you try to ignore your burning cheeks, “Behave yourself! Let me feed you your breakfast.”

Your husband visibly pouts but lets out a sigh and leans back slightly. Who was he to deny his pretty wife from feeding him? You smile triumphantly, setting the cake box on the nightstand and sliding onto the edge of the bed beside him. Grabbing a fork, you carefully cut a perfect bite from the Strawberry Shortcake, making sure to get just the right balance of sponge, cream, and strawberry.

“Open wide, birthday boy,” you quip cheerfully, holding the fork up to his lips. The man smiles and obediently opens his mouth. “Ah~” Taking a bite, his expression turns even softer. A soft hum of appreciation escapes his throat, making it known that the cake was delicious. “It’s really good, love. Thank you.” “Mhm! It’s no problem at all!” Waiting for him to finish chewing and swallow, you bite back a smirk as you prepare for the next bite.

It was time for part 2 of your plan.

Reaching over to the cake, you use the plastic butterknife (harmless, I promise!) to scoop up a little bit of the frosting from the cake. Your husband looks at you curiously, unsure of what you’re doing.

And then, the cool feeling of the sugary frosting hits just above the valley of your chest, right where the top of the apron above your cleavage is. To add the cherry on top (or should I say, strawberry hahahahaha okay fine i’m not funny ig sorry), you place a plump strawberry right in the middle of the cream. Shouto’s eyes widen, and it widens even further when you teasingly tug the apron a little lower to show off your bare body for a few seconds. Innocently, you look at your husband. “Shouto,” you speak sweetly, feigning innocence. “What’s wrong, love?” You watch him swallow. Hard. His gaze lingers on the frosting, then flickers back up to your face.

“I said I was gonna feed you, right?” You bite back a giggle when you notice his hands gripping the blanket.

“Come and eat, birthday boy.”

Shouto gulps, eyes glued to your chest, as he moves over to you. His strong arms wrap around your waist as his warm breath hits your collarbone. He looks up at you with lidded eyes as he slowly rubbed your hands along your exposed hips. “If I come and eat, I won’t let you escape, okay?” You couldn’t tell if your husband was horny or trying to be cute, but his cheeks were still painted that lovely shade of red. Not thinking much of it (have we learned nothing??), you nod. “Mhm! It’s your birthday breakfast, remember?” Shouto’s eyes darken as he moves his face close to your exposed breasts.

“Itadakimasu.”

Warm, wet muscle dances along the valley between your soft chest. Biting back a moan, your head tilts upward, hands flying to Shouto’s hair. “S-shou…” No response: the red and white haired man was too busy going down on your divine body. He licks off the whipped cream frosting and starts eating the strawberry. Suddenly, he nips at your soft skin, eliciting a yelp from you. “Shouto!” you chastise him, but he interrupts you with another bite.

“God,” he mutters, “You’re so sweet.”

Your cheeks flush red again and you bite your lip to stifle and noises. You don’t even notice that Shouto has finished the dessert on your body and is looking up at you with a lovestruck expression. His calloused hands rub small circles at your waist to calm you. “My love, are you alright? Was I too rough?” You nod and look at him with a smile. “I’m okay!” The man lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“You know, I really like this surprise. It’s been so long and I didn’t realize how much I was holding in.” His eyes look down a little shyly from his honesty, and your heart melts.

“Oh, darling, I’ve been pent up too.” You gently touch his cheek while Shouto’s eyes widen at the revelation. You’ve been pent up this entire time? “Since when?” You let out a gasp at the question and look away shyly.

“D-don’t laugh!” "I won't laugh, I promise," he says, his voice tender without any trace of mocking as he reaches up to lift your chin so you can meet his gaze.

“U-uhm… Since you left to America...” His eyes widen in shock. “That long?” You watch his face contort from one of shock to one of regret once realization hits him like a wave.

He had been neglecting you, and he didn’t mean it.

“Y/N, I…” He bites his lip and runs a hand through his hair, shorter than when you first met him. “Shit, I… I’m so sorry I didn’t notice-” “No, no, no! It’s okay, it’s not your fault!” You wave your hands around in front of you as you try to reassure him. “I just didn’t want to say anything or bother you because you’ve been so busy and tired and stressed and-!” Shouto cuts you off mid-frenzy-of-an-explanation by grabbing your chin and forcing you to look into his eyes.

“I should have noticed how much you were holding in,” he murmurs regretfully, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. He wasn’t frustrated with you, he was frustrated with himself. “God, how many times did I ignore you? Every time I went straight to bed from patrol? Shit, love, I…” Shouto’s voice falters, and you could see the guilt weighing on him.

“I never meant to hurt you,” he says quietly, his voice thick with regret. “I was so focused on missions, and I just... I didn’t see how badly you were hurting, how much you needed me here. I wasn’t there when you needed me most.” You have to blink back tears at his statement. What he said was true, but you didn’t want him to shoulder the blame. It wasn’t his fault. “Shouto,” you whisper, “It’s okay. I know how important your work is for you, and I support you.” He shakes his head, rendering you confused.

“No, Y/N, I should have made you my priority, not my work.” His eyes burn with fierce intensity, gazing into yours as if they were wishing stars.

“You are my priority, and as your husband, I’ve completely failed in showing you that you are my priority.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you sniffle. “D-don’t say that,” your voice is wobbly as you reach up to wipe a stray tear, “Y-you’re gonna make me cry and I worked hard on this makeup.” (thank god for waterproof mascara) He laughs at your attempt to lighten the mood and kisses his forehead. “You look beautiful, baby, you know that?” he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His lips linger for a moment, and when he pulls back, there's a lightness in his gaze, something playful.

"Okay, okay, enough with the tears for now," you say, trying to change up the sappy, sad mood. You wipe your eyes and take a deep breath, giving him a small, teasing smile. "I wanted today to be special, so let's enjoy it. Plus..." You pause, the mischievous twinkle in your eye returning as you lean closer.

"I want you to make me cry for another reason."

Shouto’s eyes widen in surprise for a brief moment before he catches the playful spark in your gaze. A grin slowly spreads across his face, and a quiet chuckle escapes him. “Is that so?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, but there's something else there too—a promise.

"Well, then, let’s see if I can make that happen."

Arms wrapping around you, Shouto presses his lips against yours. The kisses are soft at first, testing the waters and giving you the chance to back down (not that you were ever going to). But as the seconds go by, once your consistent kissing back makes it evident to your husband that you weren’t going to stop, the kisses become hungry and urgent.

His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer as his tongue gently traces the line of your lips, begging for more. You respond in kind, your body melting against his, as you part your lips to let his tongue in. The heat between you both intensifies, every brush of his lips, every movement of his hands, making your heart race.

Suddenly, you pull back breathlessly. Shouto pants softly, eyes clouded with lust as the thick tent in his pants press into your bare pussy. You move your hips teasingly, grinding against him, drawing out a moan from your husband. “B-baby…” he murmurs out, squeezing your hips. You respond with a smile and reach down to remove his underwear. “If you’re okay with it, love, I’d like to take the lead this time.” Shouto’s eyes widen, but he smiles and nods.

“Okay, Y/N, but tell me if you need help or if it’s too much, okay?” Your heart warms at his offer, ever the gentleman, and you nod. “I don’t think I’ll need help but thank you, darling.”

Carefully, you lower your body down on his cock. You gasp when you feel his thick tip stretch your sweet cunt. He’s big, so so big and delicious. As your walls are practically split open, you have to go reeeeeally slow so to not hurt yourself. Hands gripping the sheets, you let out a slutty moan at the sensation. Your husband’s eyes are half-lidded, lust and love mixed together in the perfect ratio. He was only a little more than halfway in, and you already felt so full. Biting his lower lip, he gently reaches a hand over to hold your waist, thumb rubbing loving circles to help soothe whatever pain you may have been feeling (so sweet :( ).

And then, you go all the way up, just until only the tip is inside, and slam yourself down. Shouto lets out a choked, guttural moan, biting his lower lip. “F-Fuck…” His hands grip your waist tighter as he braces himself for more loving from you.

However, your hips do not move as he planned. Rather, they do not move at all and you remain planted on him. Slightly frustrated, Shouto looks up at you curiously.

“Love?”

There is a dangerous, mischievous glint in your eyes as you sweetly bat your pretty lashes at him, hips still not moving. “Yes, Shou?” Reaching over, you cut a piece of the cake and hold the fork up to his lips.

“You’re hungry, right? Say ‘ah’!” He frowns, clearly expecting you to ride him, but he obediently eats the cake. Swallowing, his fingers rub your waist. “Darling, are you going to move now?”

His frown deepens when you shake your head and hold up another forkful of cake to his mouth. “I can’t let my husband go hungry, right?” Before he can interrupt, you giggle. “We never really had a personal housewarming did we? Why not do it now?”

Oh, that’s what you’re plan was. Teasing him by fucking cockwarming him, a dirty move.

And Shouto Todoroki, as much as he loves you, does not like that.

Yeah, you probably should not have teased him so much, because strong hands grab your hips and lift you off your husband’s hard dick. Your back hits the soft mattress and you let out a soft “oof-!” The fork discarded onto the nightstand (a miracle it didn’t drop to the floor), Shouto’s darkened gaze pierces into your soul. Brows furrowed, his expression tells you all that you need to know: He’s had enough with your game, and it’s time for you to face the consequences.

Before you can protest, defend your playful teasing, his lips roughly press against yours, hungrily making out. He bites your bottom lip softly, hands roaming up and down your body, asking for permission to slip his tongue in. You open your mouth submissively, his wet muscle entering the warm cavern. His lips trail downwards to your jaw, nipping and kissing it, before settling onto your neck and biting the sensitive roughly. A whine escapes your throat, body burning with desire and need. “Shouto!! Haah, please…” Your body jolts with slight pain and pleasure when his left hand swats your ass, leaving a pinkish mark.

“Please what?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, feigning innocence as his fingers trail up your sides, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. “You were so confident earlier. What happened, hmm?”

“I… I didn’t mean it,” you stammer, your cheeks burning as you look up at him with wide eyes. “Don’t tease me, please…”

His smirk deepens, and he leans in again, this time pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of your jaw, his voice a low rumble against your skin. “Oh, but darling,” he purrs, his lips moving down to your neck as his hands tighten on your waist, holding you in place. The teasing tone he used while calling you such a sweet nickname makes your pussy clench around nothing, making even wetter. “Weren’t you just having fun teasing me?” Your eyes widen when one of his hands roughly pin your smaller hands down on the pillow above you.

Oh fuck, you were screwed.

Shouto lines up his shaft to your pussy, angry red tip swollen and leaking. He playfully slaps his cock on your clit, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“You know that I don’t like it when you tease me,” Shouto notes calmly, his eyes telling a different story. “Are you going to remember that next time? Or do I have to fuck you stupid to remember that, my sweet wife?”

Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sound of that nickname. But before you could respond Shouto begins to push the bulbous tip inside your tight hole. You throw your head back into the pillow, hands gripping the sheets at the stretch. Just the sheer stretch of his tip alone made your brain fuzzy. Shouto hisses at the feeling of your goey, tight walls. “D-damn, baby,” he breathes out, eyebrows furrowed sexily, “S-so fucking tight…” After a minute, he was balls deep, all of him buried inside your sweet pussy.

Yet, this was not enough for Shouto.

He slides himself all the way out (getting back at you), and rams himself back in. A soft cry escapes your throat, and Shouto almost hesitates to continue. However, your lewd expression and hips desperately moving to feel his cock move again quenches his fears of it being too much for you. He begins thrusting, pants and groans slipping out of his lips.

“Ah ahh—Shou—!! Y-you’re s-so deep-” Fat crystalline tears well up in the corners of your eyes as you whimper. Your husband suddenly thrusts harder, prompted by your comment. “Y-yeah baby, nice and—fuck—deep, gonna cum inside, okay?” Pupils practically heart-shaped, you nod eagerly.

“Yeshh-! Pleasepleaseplease-” Your husband continues mercilessly pounding into your sensitive cunt, soft thwacks! and squelching noises made from the way his mushroom tip kissed your cervix.

“Oh!! So—hngh!—good!!” Shouto toys your clit sweetly with a few circular brushes of his thumb against your neglected clit, pushing you over the edge. “Ahh-!! C-cummin’!!” Eyes squeezing shut, your pussy clenches around your husband’s dick, body jerking up in pleasure as you ride out your high. This seems to have pushed Shouto over the edge as well, because with a final thrust, he empties his balls in your sweet womb, filling you up with his hot, thick cum. Gently, you pull his face down to kiss you softly, taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.

However, as you reach for a towel on the nightstand, beefy, muscular arms grab you and flip you over on your stomach. A pillow is pushed underneath your abdomen as Shouto lifts your hips up to his cock. “D-darling!?” You squeak in surprise, not expecting his actions. Suddenly, Shouto plunges his dick back into your pussy, cum dripping down and onto the bed. A pathetic sob escapes your throat, along with moans and whines. “T-Thought we were done—ah!”

“You thought we were finished? Love, you should know…” His voice drops down to a husky, seductive whisper when he leans down to your ear, warm breath ticking you. His cock twitches in your hole, keeping your gummy walls nice and warm and stretched.

“I fully intend on making this house a real home with you, and ensuring that your womb is nice and full is step one.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Currently, you were getting your brains fucked out in the kitchen, body practically sandwiched between the kitchen island and your husband. It had been hours since you both started going at it. Only your right leg was touching the ground, buckling knee desperately trying to support your body. Shouto was holding your left leg, one hand looped underneath the knee of your left leg and the other grabbing your slutty waist as he ruts his cock into your cunt.

You couldn’t even form a sentence, your moans and mewls and Shouto’s groans filling the house. Manicured nails gripping the countertop, a gasp escapes your throat when you feel the familiar tightening in your stomach. Eyes widening, you know what was up: you were going to cum for the nth time.

Your eyes trail to the bruises on your hips from how hard he had been gripping you, then to Shouto’s face. “S-Shouto,” you moan breathlessly, a gasp slipping from your lips when his pelvis begins thrusting faster. “C-Close!!” The smug man smirks, biting his lower lip sexily and pulling your body closer. Eyes rolling to the back of your head, you feel an unfamiliar feeling begin to build up in your abdomen. Cock drilling your insides, kissing your sweet, spongy g-spot, Shouto continues pounding hard. “B-baby-!! Oh! Ahn-! GonnA-!!”

Suddenly, the pressure is too much for you and a strangled sob escapes your lips.

Translucent liquid splatters onto Shouto’s abs and pours onto the floor. When you realize what just happened, your blood runs cold. Shouto’s eyes widen when he realizes this as well and his movements stop.

“…”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then, blood rushes to your cheeks. Shit. You hide your face in your hands, groaning from embarrassment. “Shit-! Shouto! I-” You what? You couldn’t even say it.

You fucking squirted all over him and the kitchen floor.

Just when you’re about to spew out an endless number of apologies, the breath is knocked out of your lungs when Shouto’s hips start to move again. Your hands fly to grab at the marble countertop of the kitchen island again.

“Oh-! Ahn-! S-Shouto-!! Too much!!” The sensation was overwhelming, and you were still overstimulated from your recent climax. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh, kneading your waist.

“Hnngh-! I-Isn’t it—ngh—gross?” Your husband shakes his head, hips continuing to meet your pelvis, and a deep gasp escaping from his throat. “Not at all, love.” He pulls your waist closer to meet his hips, eliciting a sweet, harmonic moan from you. Leaning down, his hot breath hits your ear as he whispers seductively.

“It was hot.”

Your face burns from his honesty, not expecting his reaction. Whining, your eyes roll to the back of your head at the overwhelming sensation of a particularly harsh (yet pleasurable) thrust. Your blood boils in your veins as you tried to maintain your grip on the marble island top. Soft pants escape your husband’s lips, a curse word sprinkled in every now and then. Suddenly, Shouto bites his lip. He was getting close. Despite your lower half feeling like jello, you rocked your hips as best as you could to meet his hips, anything to get him close to finishing!

Through your clouded, fucked-out mind, you were still able to count how many times Shouto had finished so far today: four times (twice on the bed to fix your attitude, once in the bathroom when he was “cleaning you up,” and once on the stairs—wait… how did that even happen!?!?). “S-shou,” you pant out, one arm reaching up to wrap around his neck and stabilize yourself. “T-this is —ngh— s’pposed to be about you!” He smiles softly at your remark and slows down. Tenderly, he takes your other arm leaning on the kitchen island and has you wrap it around your neck as well. “I know, but I can’t help wanting to make you feel good.”

Without letting himself slip out of your heavenly folds, Shouto easily picks you up and carries you to the wall. The taller man pins you against it before resuming his lovely assault on your pussy. You writhe against him, babbling mindless nonsense and singing his name with your moans. You were so close again! Heat coils up in your abdomen again as you cling tighter to Shouto. His fingers dig even deeper, and he lets out a guttural moan.

“God, baby, y-you’re—fuck—divine.” His pace grew more erratic as he began thrusting faster. Tears form at the corners of your eyes as you sob pathetically, nails digging into his back. Shouto’s mouth presses against yours yet again, hungrily kissing you. Your legs quiver and your body jolts in pleasure as you come again. Your orgasm hits you like a truck, sensitivity heightened from the overstimulation. A few seconds after, Shouto thrusts one last time and fills you up, hot cum flooding your tight walls. Your body shakes as you come down from your high, euphoria surging in your veins again.

Carefully, Shouto lets your legs touch the ground—not that that was any good (he just pounded you!), but hey, the thought counts, right? Still holding onto you, he kisses your forehead softly, body pressed up against your bare skin and the pink apron. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” You smile cheerfully and nod. “Mhm! My legs are a little sore, though.” Your gaze flickers down to the pool of fluids a few feet away from you, your cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Let me just go clean that up.”

Getting down on your knees, you unintentionally flash Shouto with your perky, round ass on full display (keep in mind, you’re still wearing that flimsy, probably crumbled up by now apron). Shouto gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches you grab a rag and wipe up your mess. Cum was still leaking from your cunt, dripping down your thighs and even leaving drops on the floor.

Just as you finish cleaning up your mess with a light, undignified blush, rough hands grab your waist and the familiar hard dick presses up against your ass. You gasp at the feeling. “S-Shouto?” Your response is an icy smack on your left ass cheek, making you yelp. “Shouto!” But before you could get mad at him further, your breath is knocked out of your lungs yet again when he slams his dick into your pussy. You fingers dig into the rag underneath you, knees wobbily trying to maintain balance on the hardwood floor.

“Hnngh!! Not again!!”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

It was only 11:51am, and sweet Jesus were you tired.

You felt like you did every position already: on the bed, on your knees, against the wall, bent over the countertop, on the fucking stairs!! You were exhausted! And to your right, the birthday boy was cheerfully slurping his cold soba noodles for his birthday lunch. You weren’t very hungry, but you took a few bites earlier (he practically forced you to eat, concerned for your well-being). It didn’t even look like he broke a sweat, the only evidence of your nasty morning being the scratch marks on his back.

As you take a sip of water, your husband sneaks glances at you. Eyes full of concern and worry, he observes the various bruises, hickeys, and the state of your apron.

Right, that damn apron.

It was a wonderful surprise, a surprise that Shouto would have never thought would ever greet him in the morning, even more so his birthday. If he were to ever tell his first-year high school self of this life, he would probably scoff and tell him to focus on his hero career. But right now, as he looks at you—the person who’s turned his house into a home (and the reason why he even has a big house like this #proposal)— he can’t imagine anything better than this. Finishing his lunch, he places the plate down before wrapping his muscular, warm arms around you. Shouto presses a soft kiss to your forehead, eyes on yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice is soft and tender, full of love that makes your heart melt.

“Mhm!” You quip cheerfully and place the glass down. “I told you, I’m not hungry. You worry too much baby.” “I’m allowed to worry,” he murmurs, his hand resting against your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin. “Especially when it’s about you.”

Your heart swells at the sincerity in his voice, and you rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you say with a smile, looking up at him with a teasing glint in your eyes. “You’ll have to put up with me for a while. ‘Till death,' you know?”

His lips curl into a small smile at the reference to your vows, and he leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Good,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

‘Till death’ was what he had promised. ‘I promise to love you until death, until death do us part. Yet I will love you even after death, for an aeon of eternity.’

And everyone knows that Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job. Especially as your husband. Looking back at your adorable figure, his smile reverts to a frown when he spots that lacy, frilly, pink apron.

Right, that damn apron.

The sight of it stirs a conflicting swirl of emotions in Shouto. On one hand, it’s adorable—seeing you proudly donning the frilly, slightly-too-thin fabric while bustling around the house for his birthday. But on the other hand... it’s too flimsy, too distracting, and it’s been on you for too long. It takes everything in him not to reach out and tug it off, not because he’s impatient but because it feels like the apron is mocking his already limited self-control. ��You might be upset,’ he thinks to himself, lips pressed together in a thin line. Shouto knows how much effort and planning you’ve put into your plans today, and he doesn’t want to ruin it.

But at the same time, he wants to see you fully naked, bathed in your usual goddess beauty, all unwrapped just for him.

Besides, it was fine, right? That poor article of clothing needed a break: cum stains everywhere, smelling like a mix of Sol De Janeiro cherirosa and sweat from your lovemaking. It was crumpled up in areas too, no matter how much you tried to smooth it out.

The final string of restraint snaps in him when you put his empty plate in the sink, cute ass on display once again. Before you know it, the knot of the apron is undone and you’re tossed onto the couch.

“Shouto!” You huff, voice full of surprise. But before you can continue your complaining, the pink apron is pull off of your body and tossed to some corner of the living room. Shouto eyes you hungrily, like a wolf looking at his prey. You swallow nervously.

“B-baby?” His hand moves to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek with surprising tenderness. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice softer now but no less earnest. “And I’ve missed you more than you can imagine.” He begins pressing featherlike kisses to your body, making you giggle and smile.

You were not prepared for what was coming next.

Cold fingers teasing your entrance suddenly press down on your clit, making you scream. You’re soaking wet again, face burning. “My lunch was delicious, like how you always make it,” your husband notes, teasing your hole by rubbing his hot fingers along your entire slit (from clit to ass).

“But I want to eat my dessert now.”

Your cunt makes embarrassing squelches and sounds, music to Shouto’s ears as he continues to eat you out on the couch. It’s been how long? 5 minutes? 10 minutes? 20? His tongue swipes your sweet bud while his middle and ring finger curl slightly and hit just the right spot. Shouto’s name tumble out of your mouth, recited like a prayer. At a particularly rough suck on your clit, your hands fly to Shouto’s hair, gripping it tightly. He moans at the feeling and flicks the bud teasingly. This sends you over the edge, eyes rolling to the back of your head and thighs spasming around your husband’s head.

Pulling his head away from your womanhood, he gives it a light, playful slap, watching your thighs jolt up. “S-Shouto!” You scold him lightly, out of breath. That was your third orgasm from just his fingers and tongue alone. He chuckles and reaches over to kiss you. “Sorry, love, I was just teasing.” Sweetly, he helps you sit up on the couch and rubs your arms to soothe you.

He presses a gentle kiss to your temple and pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. “You’ve made today perfect,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “And I want to spend the rest of it making you feel just as special.”

Your heart swells at his words for like the fifth time today, and you relax against him, the earlier tension melting away. “You always make me feel special, love.” your tone is filled with warmth as you gaze up at your husband’s perfectly mismatched eyes.

As he lets you cool down, Shouto turns on the TV to check the news. After a few minutes, you suddenly get an idea that you almost forgot about in your plan.

“Shouto?” you quip, gently tapping on his shoulder. He looks at you with a curious look. “Yes, love?” You grin, twirling your hair with a finger.

“There is one more place we haven’t quite warmed up yet.” Eyes filled with curiosity, he watches you stand up start walking. Shouto frowns and puts the remote down before following you. “Love? Where are you going?” Like a lost puppy, he follows you around the house.

You open the laundry room and walk to the washing machine. All of a sudden, you grab a dirty laundry basket and drop down to your knees. Digging your hands through the clothes, you begin tossing the clothing into the machine. “Y/N? Let me help y-”

All of a sudden, you stick your upper half inside, your bare butt on full display. Shouto’s jaw drops, throat drying up. You wiggle your legs in mock distress, fighting the smile on your face.

“Honey! I think I’m stuck in here. Can you help me out?”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[fujoshirat]

You might have noticed that I didn't put any prior head's up, author's notes or comments in my recent work. I can assure you that there is a *very* good reason for that (๑>؂•̀๑)

I've been working on something that I'd say is big for a blog like mine. It isn't a full on 24-chapter fic (I do not have the strength or time to do that). Rather, it is something that I don't usually write about and try not to touch: Smut/NSFW

However! I got a really really really good idea that I could not abandon >o< Even though my blog is technically 18+, my works/content aren't necessarily 18+ (or at least, I have tried not to make them 18+ so far). Thus, I do not have a "minors dni" sign on my blog but always make sure to put warnings.

This work in progress, however, will be 18+, so minors dni with this! Once I have time, I'll make a complete blog masterlist that will have all of my sfw and nsfw works organized ^^

Aaaaaaaaaand if you're extra curious, come 'n see a veeeeeeeery short preview of what coincidentally just so happens to be waiting to be published on a very special day: January 11.

Warnings: A18+, cursing, squirting god this is embarrassing, p in the v, sexy aged up Shouto

Suddenly, the pressure is too much and a strangled sob escapes your lips.

Translucent liquid splatters onto Shouto's abs and pours onto the floor. When you realize what just happened, your blood runs cold. Shouto's eyes widen when he realizes this as well and his movements stop.

"..."

It's quiet for a few seconds, and then, blood rushes to your cheeks. Shit. You hide your face in your hands, groaning from embarrassment. "Shit-! Shouto! I-" You what? You couldn't even say it.

You fucking squirted all over him and the kitchen floor.

Just when you're about to spew out an endless number of apologies, the breath is knocked out of your lungs when Shouto's hips start to move again. Your hands fly to grab at the marble countertop of the kitchen island.

"Oh-! Ahn-! S-Shouto!! Too much!!" The sensation was overwhelming, and you were still overstimulated from your recent climax. His fingers dig deeper into your soft flesh, kneading at your waist.

"Hnngh-! I-Isn't it—ngh—gross?” Your husband shakes his head, hips continuing to meet your pelvis, and a deep gasp escaping his throat. "Haah... not at all, love." He pulls your waist closer to meet his hips, eliciting a moan from you. Leaning down, his hot breath hits your ear as he whispers seductively.

"It was hot."

----

Damn what the heck am I on? 😭

[fujoshirat]

Shouto Todoroki proposes with a fucking house (Be careful what you wish for ♡)

It was a Thursday night, chilly November air nipping at your nose as you walked out of the theater with your love. Shouto wanted to watch the new All Might movie, and who were you to say no to a date with your lovely boyfriend?

He seemed to enjoy it, the way his eyes lit up every time he saw his idol appear on screen. A boyish, childlike wonder present every time his eyes sparkled, he was so cute!!—wait a minute, that’s not the point!

The main point comes after this scene: after getting hot chocolate from a food stand with Shouto, you both sat down on a nearby bench. Sipping the much-needed warm drink, you let out a soft sigh.

“Isn’t hot chocolate so delicious, Shou?” Your boyfriend nods, small smile on his face as he watches your cheery expression. The cold brought a faint pink hue to his cheeks, making them rosy. He seemed contempt in the quiet moment, something you were used to with him.

But then, his gaze turned contemplative. Scooting a bit closer to you, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You look up at him curiously. “Sure, what’s up?”

His kissable lips pressed together firmly, like he was hesitant to say what was on his mind.

“How… do you feel about marriage?” The question caught you off-guard, and you nearly choked on your hot chocolate. “M-marriage?!?”

He nods shyly, though his expression was serious. “Yes, what do you think about it? I’ve been thinking, and… it’s something I want with you in the future—if you want that, too.” Your heart had melted at his honesty. You and Shouto have been dating for a while now, and sure, you didn’t mind marrying him, but you didn’t expect him to bring it up so casually.

Heart pounding in your chest, you turn your eyes from your drink and face him. Your breath hitches when you see his earnest expression. “Well, I wouldn’t mind marrying you, Shouto. And if we were to get married someday, I don’t want anything super fancy! I’m not into those huge diamond rings and over-the-top proposals, which all seem like a huge waste of money and a silly way to “show” that you love someone.” Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes widen at your statement, processing your words. “You wouldn’t want a ring?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no, I’d want a ring. Just nothing extravagant, you know? I’d rather have something permanent.” Your boyfriend tilts his head confusedly.

“Permanent? What’s more permanent that a ring?” ‘Good question,’ you thought. Before Shouto brought it up right now, you never really thought about the specifics of marriage. Thinking for a moment, you decide to tease the boy and grin mischievously.

“A house,” you say proudly, half joking-half serious. No way was anyone in their right mind going to propose to you with a house oh how wrong you were babe. “I mean, it’s not something that sits on your finger until you break it or you lose it or you get too fat from aging or childbirth. It’s a place where memories are made, and…” You gently cup his right cheek with your hand, soft smile on your face, “hopefully if we do get married, it will be good memories.”

Shouto stared at you for a few seconds, as if you had just revealed the meaning of life itself. The man had already told you about his rough childhood a few years back, and you had already met his family a while ago. You knew what he feared, and you knew how to comfort him and make everything okay. Nodding slowly, Shouto gently touched the hand that was caressing his cheek. “A house,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You didn’t think of it much then. After all, it was just a silly, offhand comment that would never actually happen…

...right?

You had laughed off your “wish” not even a few minutes after you said it, and continued chatting about the movie and basking in your boyfriend’s company.

But Shouto? Shouto took it to heart. And everyone knows that Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job.

That’s why, exactly one year later, on another chilly November night, he drove you into a quiet, fancy neighborhood that you definitely had no business being in.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You both had just finished a pleasant, fancy dinner in the heart of the city and were driving back to your shared apartment. Perhaps Shouto was just taking a detour to tour the area. Perhaps Fuyumi-san was interested in moving out to a nice neighborhood with her boyfriend? As your mind drifted away in a daydreaming cloud, the black BMW M850i pulled up to the sidewalk and came to a stop. The warm hand caressing your thigh gently squeezed it, and Shouto put the car on park. “My love,” he spoke, voice smooth and low, “Would you like some fresh air?” You quirked a brow curiously but nodded and unbuckled. Your boyfriend came around and opened the door for you, holding your lower back gently as he guided you to the sidewalk.

Curiously, you looked around at the beautiful houses around you in wonder. They were a mix of traditional and modern. It almost reminded you of Shouto’s own household, though these ones were obviously new and had a better, modern architectural design to it.

Intertwining his fingers in his, he looks down at your figure and smiles softly. “This is a new neighborhood that I wanted to show you. It was recently completed in July.” His voice was calm, a soft smile on his face—with a hint of something that you couldn’t identify. Something… deeper.

You tilted your head and looked up at him curiously. “It’s beautiful, love, but, why are we here?”

And then,

Shouto got down on one knee—

a gasp,

and pulled out a small velvet box—

another gasp,

and opened it—

revealing a delicate diamond ring.

It was simple, elegant, and exactly what you had in mind one year ago.

But before you could say anything else, he pulled something else out of his pocket:

A small, silver key.

Your jaw drops, mouth hanging wide open, as small tears prick at your eyes. Shouto smiles softly at your expression, gaze never wavering. “I remembered what you said last year and-”

“Shouto. Himura. Todoroki. You didn’t!”

He chuckles, your knees feeling week as you stared at his amused yet sincere expression.

“I did.” Warm liquid falls down your cheek before you know it, yet all you can focus on is the man in front of you.

“I know that you said you wanted something permanent, and I want to give you something permanent too.” He glances at the house that you both were in front of, and then back at you. “It’ll be a place where we can build a life together, a place where you will always be safe, a home where you will always feel loved.” Your heart cracks even further at the sound of his voice, honest and genuine and vulnerable and raw.

“My love for you is permanent, Y/N, and if you’ll have me, I want to share this with you, forever.”

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to find words. “Shouto, hic are you— sniffle this—this house—” “I wanted you to have both a ring and a house.” Your boyfriend says that with full conviction in his voice, honesty and sincerity evident.

“Will you, L/N, Y/N, marry me?”

You nod furiously and desperately wipe some of your tears,

“Yes! God, yes Shouto!” Your new fiancé wastes no time scrambling up to his feet and sliding the ring on your pretty ring finger. Gently, he pulls you into his arms and tenderly wipes some of your tears.

“You’re sniffle incredible,” you murmur in his chest. Shouto laughs, but he is cut off by the second half of your statement. “And incredibly terrible!” He blinks, confusedly. “What? Why?”

“Shouto!” You chastize him with a huff, using your sleeve to wipe away snot that’s probably gross (Shouto doesn’t think it’s that gross). “Why would you spend 60 million yen on me!?!” (approximately $400,000 in USD)

He blinks again, confused, as if you had said something silly. “I’m a pro hero,” he says cooly, shrugging as if that and the amount of money he spent was no big deal (it really isn’t a big deal to him). “I’ve been saving, and…” Gently, he holds the hand with the ring up to his lips and kisses your knuckles gently, making your knees buckle and your cheeks even rosier.

“You’re worth it, my love. This ring, the house, nothing can compare to how happy and loved you’ve made me.” Tears well up in your eyes once again, threatening to spill over as your heart clenches. “That’s so unfair,” you murmur, voice cracking. Shouto’s lips quirk up into a smug smile, almost like a smirk, showing his blatant amusement.

“What is, darling?”

“Being this perfect,” you mutter, tears streaming down your cheeks again. Shouto laughs and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, but you deserve everything, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you know it.” His eyes widen when you let out a whiny sob, burying your face into his warm chest. His left hand gently rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. A cool autumn breeze blows by, ruffling your hair. Shouto sees you visibly shiver and strokes your head.

“You must be cold, would you like to go inside?”

He watches your puffy yet beautiful eyes sparkle, and Shouto can’t tell if it is from your tears or happiness. Yet, he understands that the answer is both when you interlace your hand with his and use your free hand to unlock the door to the brand new 60 million yen home with a brand new diamond ring on your finger in the brand new luxury neighborhood with your brand new fiancé and soon to be husband. ♡

[fujoshirat]

Ok I have a (idk dumb) Idea, If it somehow connects to Kaoru from the "Obsessed", How would Kaoru and the Kids react with him? Like I honestly don't quite know much other than its a masterpiece full of wholesomeness but like the idea though😭

I just can't get over Kaoru being the whole connection for Shouto and Reader in Obsessed while I'm also looking through your other series🥹

The idea isn't dumb at all! I appreciate your support and love the curiosity <33

DONT READ IF YOU DONT WANT SPOILERS FOR OBSESSED/TINY DANCER!! (check them out!!!)

Warning: intense mathematical calculations (ew math)

I didn't intend to make Obsessed and the oc!children fall in the same storyline (in the oc!children line, I intended for how Shouto and the reader get together/married to be completely up to the readers, it didn't have to be through Obsessed). HOWEVER! Anything is possible in the vast imagination of a delusional woman (myself <3), so who's to say that we can't imagine an interaction between Kaoru and the children?

After doing some INTENSE mathematical calculations and research literally just pulling up the fics and counting with my fingers, during the time period where Yuuri is 7, if the story of Obsessed and Tiny Dancer were in the same timeline/storyline, Kaoru would be approximately... 18!?!?!?!

Now, how could this be?

In Suits (Chapter 4 final chapter for Obsessed), Kaoru is 7 and a half years old. Let's say that when Shouto and reader have Aki and Haru, it's a year and a half after marriage. That would make Kaoru 9 (7.5 + 1.5 = 9).

Now, there is a two-year age gap between both sets of twins and Hana. When Yueru and Yuuri are born, Aki and Haru are about 2 (9 + 2 = 11 making Kaoru 11)! Later on, in Tiny Dancer, we mentioned that Yuuri is 7. This means that 7 years has passed since Yuu and Yue were born: 11 + 7 = 18.

There you have it! We solved how old Kaoru would be in Tiny Dancer's timeline!

To answer your question on interaction, let's keep the Tiny Dancer timeline to make things somewhat simple (warning: FujoshiRat's EXTREMELY scattered brainrot dump). Here's an age summary!!:

Kaoru - 18

Aki and Haru - 9

Yueru and Yuuri - 7

Hana - 5

Aaaaaaaaaand I'm adding some Kaoru high school lore 'cause why not <33

So I can see Kaoru at U.A., obviously inspired by his fav oji-san <3 so yay! He inherited Natsuo's ice quirk and is a third year (is that how Japanese high schools work?) at U.A.

Kaoru is DEFINITELY more open/talkative than how he was in kindergarten. He's still a respectful boy that loves his rock collections, but not like as much as he did before </3

He loves visiting his favorite oji-san and his really nice wife and kids! Kaoru is an only child, so I can imagine him really caring for his cousins 🥺🥺

I wouldn't say that he's got a favorite- he plays with all of them and loves them all! One minute, he's wrestling with Yueru around in the backyard (she asked for it), another minute he's letting Hana pour him "tea" on a tiny pink children's plastic chair that he definitely shouldn't be sitting on, the next thing you know he's playing Banana Split (Rock, Paper, Scissors, Splits if you don't know what Banana Split is) with Yuuri (and failing miserably to the ballet dancer), and another minute he's playing frisbee with Aki and Haru.

I won't lie, when his uncle first started having cousins, he was a little jealous :( Babies obviously require much time and effort and energy, so the young boy couldn't see his uncle and auntie as much as before. Plus, now that he was in elementary school, he had homework and studying to do!

However, with time (just like his oji-san), Kaoru has matured into a fine man! No longer is he jealous->he has turned his jealousy into affection bc that would be what his father and oji-san would want 🥺🥺

Now, for the POV of the five Todoroki Shouto darlings!!

They all see Kaoru as the COOL cousin: you know, that one cousin who's always giving advice they're just so mature and cool? the one cousin who is like the peacemaker in the family, usually the oldest (in this case, Kaoru is the oldest). this cousin is that one cousin who has all the kids dumped in their room during an Asian family gathering (any southeast Asians in the room?)

Hana sees Kaoru as reliable and safe. Whenever Kaoru comes over, Hana will drag the high schooler over to her room and make him play whatever she wants: Barbies, tea party, dress up, you name it! She can't help herself! Kaoru is so patient and nice, indulging her antics whether it be sitting properly (unlike Haru-nii) at the tea party table or clapping (unlike Aki-nii's complaining) while she struts down the "runway." In a way, her older cousin is comforting, and she sees her papa (SHOUTO MY LOVE) in his patient and understanding words and actions

Yuuri sees Kaoru as a brother figure. Don't get me wrong: all five of Shouto's children see Kaoru as a brother figure. But Yuuri? The brotherhood (cousinhood?) is STRONG. A big reason why is because remember, Kaoru was once a veeeeeeery quiet little boy like Yuuri, and Yuuri knows this. He sees Kaoru as someone he can greatly relate to and looks up to him in that way. Yuuri also admires how balanced Kaoru is. Yuuri sees how Kaoru is understanding and more outgoing, and I see him as wanting to be the same way. As we know, Yuuri is the quietest out of his siblings and struggles with expressing his emotions. He feels motivated and inspired by his cousin to be like him (does this change in emotional expression sound like someone we know? wink wink~)

Yueru sees Kaoru as a cool role model. It's very obvious that she wants to be a hero, between her personality and affinity for her quirk. But did you know? Fun fact! (that I will develop later in the new year): poor girl cried when she got her quirk. If you remember from my first work about the Todoroki children, she admires her oji-san Bakugou (Dynamight). She reeeeeeeally wanted Shouto's fire side to be just like him! Haha funny story.... she got ice (IM SORRY YUERU I LOVE YOU) so yeah she was heartbroken when Yuuri got Shouto's "complete" quirk (half-hot half-cold) but hey!! Kaoru has the same ice quirk as her (everyone say thank you to baa-san aka Rei <33) so now she sees Kaoru as a role model. I mean obviously she still looks up to Dynamight but Kaoru is direct family so even cooler! Cousin, sparring partner, and role model!

Last but not least, similar to Hana, Aki and Haru see Kaoru as a person they can trust. Because Shouto was present a lot in Kaoru's childhood, his personality and wisdom is reflected in Kaoru. They see their father in their cousin, and it is something that they find great comfort in. Kaoru, just like Shouto, is dependable and seems to have all the answers that the twins need. Additionally, because they're the oldest out of the five, Aki and Haru knew Kaoru longer than Yuu and Yue and Hana. Because of this, they have a tight bond and attachment to their cousin <3

currently sobbing in a corner rn this was so sweet and too much fluff for me to handle 😭😭

Anyways~! WOAH that was long mb yall I love to talk about my hyperfixations 😳😳 I promise promise promise that when the new year begins and I have time, I will definitely make a better summary of the 5 Todoroki children. Thx for listening to me rant and Happy New Year @reijixia13!

~FujoshiRat

[fujoshirat]

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅Tiny Dancer

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅Child Spotlight: Yuuri Todoroki! 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“Mama?”

“Yes, Yuuri-kun?”

“I want to do ballet.”

You were initially terrified of letting your son join ballet. Of course, you wanted to let Yuuri pursue his interests. It wasn’t often that the quiet little boy asked you something directly (every time he wanted something, he would shyly follow you around until you read his mind). Yuuri was the complete opposite of his twin sister, Yueru. Yueru was loud and made her feelings known. She loved to talk and get everyone’s attention. Yuuri on the other hand took after his older brothers, Aki and Haru. The three of them had their father’s calm and quiet personality. They were listeners in the background. Yuuri was extremely quiet, and sometimes it worried you. That’s why, when the little boy expressed his interest something directly to you, you were ecstatic.

However, as a mother, you were scared of him getting hurt. Though the times were changing, there were still people in society that did not see ballet as something that males could do. Just the thought of someone teasing him or breaking his little heart kept you up at night. Would he be the only boy in his class? Would the other kids accept him? How would the teachers treat him when they recognize his last name?

But you saw the way his eyes sparkled, glued to the TV screen as he mimicked the female representative from America performing at the Olympics. He turned back to face you with a determined look for a five-year-old. “I want to try ballet, mama.” He really wanted this, and you knew it.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

When Shouto got home, he knew that something was off immediately. Coming back from patrol, he’d open the door and called out, “I’m home!” As per usual, all five kids pounced on him, a chorus of “Dad!”s and “Papa!”s tumbling out of their mouths.

But you didn’t greet him. He brushed it off at first, taking off his boots and walks to the kitchen. You were probably busy making dinner! Walking under the archway, he smiles when he spots you, dutifully stirring a pot of what he thinks is curry.

“My love, I’m home.”

He watches you flinch, a frown forming on his face. Gently, he slips an arm around your waist and kisses the top of your hair. He sees you look up at him, trying to smile, but it’s obvious to him. You’re absentmindedly stirring the pot, eyebrows slightly furrowed, as you greet him.

“Ah, welcome home, Shou.” The subtle change in your usual facial expression was hard for others to catch on, but Shouto wasn’t others. He was your husband, your love, and he knew better. That face was the face you made when something was bugging you.

Something was scaring you, but you didn’t want to let it show. With a soft voice, he gently rubs your hip. “Love, what’s wrong?” Shouto smiles when you lean into his embrace, turning off the stove. “It’s Yuuri,” you admit, words quiet like a confession. “He told me that he wants to take ballet classes.” Shouto quirks a brow, not expecting his quietest son to express interest in ballet. He didn’t see anything wrong with it, but he wanted to know why it was bugging you.

“I’m happy that he’s showing interest, relieved that he’s found something he’s interested in,” you continue, voice still soft. “But… I’m scared, Shouto. What if he gets teased? What if he’s the only boy in the class? What if he doesn’t feel like he belongs?”

That was what’s bugging you. Shouto hated to see his darling so stressed. He wraps the other arm around your waist to hug you from behind properly, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Yuuri is a strong kid,” Shouto said, voice full of reassurance. “He gets that from you.” The taller man presses a feathery kiss to your temple, watching you melt in his embrace. “I understand where you’re coming from, so lets figure this out together.”

After eating dinner and tucking all the children in for bed, your husband leads you to the couch and has you sit down on his lap. His mismatched eyes hold silent determination as he types away on his laptop, researching coed ballet studios in Hosu City and pulling up articles on male ballerinas. God, you made the right decision marrying this man, and he proves it to you every day. You lean into his chest, watching him research and playing with the edge of the blanket. After about ten minutes, Shouto gently strokes your hair.

“Here, love. Come and see.” You watch him click on various tabs open. “Ballet is good for boys, and there are so many male ballet dancers thriving.” Shouto shows you a video of a male Japanese ballet dancer being interviewed at an international competition in Seoul. He talks about his journey from when he was a little boy first starting. Once the video ends, Shouto moves to another tab and points to the screen

“This studio looks promising. It says that they welcome all students of all backgrounds and experience levels—even beginners interested.” You can’t help but smile, heart swelling in gratitude.

“Oh love,” you whispered, “thank you. I just want Yuuri to be happy.” Shouto smiles, brushing a stray strand of hair from your beautiful eyes that he’ll stare at all day if he could. “He already is happy because he has you as his mother. We’ll make sure that he’ll be taken care of together.”

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

On Wednesday afternoon at 3:45pm, Shouto takes off early and leaves the agency. He walks past your favorite supermarket and stops across the entrance to the station. There, he sees you and his five children waiting by the entrance of the ballet studio. Yueru is the first one to notice him and runs up to her father. “Papa!” She grins, changed out of her school uniform into leggings and a simple shirt. Shouto chuckles and carries her.

“Yueru, my princess, how was school?”

“It was fun! We practiced our writing!”

“That sounds fun, are you going to try ballet?”

“Mhm!” Shouto smiles at her enthusiasm, heart fuzzy with love for his energetic little girl. He walks over to his family and kisses your forehead. “You good, baby?” You nod, lips curving into a gentle smile as you look up at your husband. “Yueru wanted to try the trial class too, so I had her change into extra clothes.” Shouto chuckles at the explanation and looks at his seven-year-old twin boys in their school uniforms. “Aki, Haru, did you boys have a good day at school?” They nod in perfect unison, something eerie at first glance but a cute trait that their parents have gotten used to. The red-haired twin Aki speaks up first. “We had our spelling test today.” “Oh really? How do you think you both did?” Haru speaks up next. “Good!” Their father ruffles their hair with an amused laugh before turning to find Yuuri. His gaze softens when he spots the young boy looking in the window of the studio. Shouto walks closer and crouches down to his son’s level as he watches him quietly observe what seemed to be the intermediate class of dancers finishing up their practice.

“Yuuri,” Shouto calls out softly. Yuuri looks at him with a shy smile.

“Papa…”

Standing back up, Shouto reaches his hand out to the five-year-old.

“Are you ready?”

Yuuri takes his father’s hand and looks down nervously. Shouto gently squeezes his hand and walks his back to the rest of the family. “It’s okay to feel nervous, but I know that you’re a strong boy Yuu-kun.” The man glances up at his four other beautiful children and his angelic wife before continuing.

“And you’ve got your family all here for you, so you’re not alone, okay?” His inspirational words seem to brighten his son’s mood because he watches Yuuri’s shoulders relax.

“Okay, papa, I’m ready.”

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅2 years later𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

“Crap! We’re going to be late!”

At only 8:21 am in the morning, the Todoroki household was already buzzing with excitement, the family scrambling to get out the door.

“Where’s my shoes?!?” Yuuri called out, racing down the stairs. Weaving through the rooms, he digs through the piles of shoes by the door.

Hana, as usual, was more focused on clutching her stuffed rabbit than putting on her coat. She fusses and pouts, wrestling against Shouto’s grip as he struggles to put the little girl’s coat on. “Hana-chan, let’s put on the coat, yeah?” “Noo!”

“Found them!” In the kitchen, Aki emerges triumphant. He holds the black ballet shoes up in his right hand. To his right, his white-haired twin Haru pouts.

“I got it first! You took it from me!”

“No, I got it first!”

“Liar!”

“No, you’re a liar!”

Suddenly, cold hands grab both of their necks, causing them to yelp. Yueru giggles cheekily and grabs the ballet slippers before handing them to her own twin. Now that their fifth birthdays had past and their quirks manifested, the mischievous girl had full intent on utilizing her gift.

“Here, Yuu-kun!”

“Thank you, Yue-nee.”

“Thank you, Yue-chan,” you say cheerfully while packing your tote bag. ‘Juice, biscuits, napkins… water! Everything is here!’ “Okay, everyone put their shoes and coats on, and let’s go!” As you usher both sets of twins through the foyer and to the entrance area—’Oh shoot!’—you quickly grab Yueru’s recital bag.

Slipping your winter boots on, you notice your youngest still giving Shouto a difficult time. Though she has her coat on, she is squirming in her father’s arms, fussing and whining.

“Daddy,” Hana whined, clutching her rabbit tighter, “Sa-kun doesn’t want to go!!” Shouto sighs and maneuvers putting his own boots on while carrying the little girl. “Sa-kun can stay in the car while you watch your brother, okay? He’ll keep your seat warm.” Hana doesn’t stop fussing until you clear your throat. “Hana-chan, don’t be giving daddy a hard time.” Hearing your warning, she stops and pouts. “Sorry mama.”

With everyone finally ready, the family of seven finally makes it out the door. Shouto holds the door open as you herd the children toward the family van, the frosty morning air nipping at your cheeks. Hana shivers dramatically, burying her face into Shouto’s shoulder as he secures her in her car seat.

Click! Click! Click! Click! Click!

Your husband starts the car, and you turn around to check on all five kids.

“Everyone buckled up?”

“Yes mama!”

“Yes!” the elder twins say in sync, though Aki and Haru are glaring at each other in silent competition. Shouto doesn’t miss this and gives them a quick glance in the rearview mirror. “No fighting, or neither of you are getting hot chocolate after the recital.”

That earns a synchronized gasp, and they immediately sit straighter, lips sealed.

Hana, meanwhile, has her rabbit tucked under her arm, murmuring softly, “Sa-kun wants hot chocolate too.”

“I’ll make sure Sa-kun gets some,” you assure her with a wink. She grins, seemingly satisfied. “Hear that, Sa-kun? Mama said that you can have hot chocolate too!” You giggle to yourself as you watch your youngest play with her rabbit doll, then look at Yuuri.

“Yuuri?”

“Yes, mama?”

“Are you ready?” The seven-year-old bites his lip nervously. “I’m nervous, mama. What if I mess up?” Reaching over, you gently squeeze his hand as Shouto pulls out of the driveway.

“Don’t worry, Yuu-kun. You won’t—even if you, it’s okay.” “Your mother’s right,” Shouto adds, eyes still on the road. “No one expects you to be perfect the first time.” Suddenly, the other seven-year-old chimes in.

“We’ll all be cheering for you, Yuu-kun! I promise that I’ll cheer the loudest!” Yuuri lets go of your hand and smiles softly, intertwining his free hand with Yueru’s.

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

The car is soon filled with chatter and humming. Outside, the snow starts to let up, allowing the sun to shine on the chaotic yet happy family. Elton John and Ed Sheeran sing about Christmas on the radio as you hum along. In her car seat, Hana is in her own little world, telling her stuffed animal all about hot chocolate and how to keep her seat warm. “Mm… maybe you should come with me, Sa-kun. But you’ll have to be good,” she says, petting the rabbit’s ears. “Mama said.” As the van passes the local mall, Aki and Haru dig through their mother’s tote bag to find the chocolate biscuits.

And Yuuri and Yueru? The female twin rests her head on Yuuri’s shoulder, taking a nap. Their fingers still intertwined, Yuuri absentmindedly looks out the window, gaze curious and filled with childlike wonder.

As all this is happening, Shouto glances every now and then at his family, the family he’d do anything for: The twins’ playful mischief, Hana’s imaginative chatter, Yuuri’s quiet resolve, Yueru’s gentle support—and you, the glue holding them all together.

You meet eyes with the man, and flash him a warm smile that makes his chest tighten. It makes it tighten like when he first met you, like when he proposed to you, like when he married you. Even amidst the chaos of the household (he has no clue how you always have everything under control and he’s forever grateful for that), you’re always smiling and dealing with problems head on.

“You’re humming,” he teases lightly, voice soft enough so that only you can hear. You laugh, shrugging. “It’s a cute song, perfect reminder of the holiday a few days ago.” Just as the song ends, Shouto pulls into the local community center. “We’re here!” Aki announces as if no one has already noticed. The van is once again buzzing in excitement and chatter as Shouto parks the car.

“Alright everyone, let’s go!” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reach for Yuuri’s recital bag. Shouto steps out first and opens the sliding door to let the kids tumble out in varying states of readiness. He goes around the care and helps Hana out of her seat, the little girl clutching her doll tightly. “It’s cold!” she whines (ever the drama queen), burying her face in her father’s scarf. “Let’s go inside quickly, then,” Shouto speaks softly, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Aki lets Haru out, giving him an exaggerated bow amidst his thick coat. “You’re welcome, your highness,” the red-haired twin mocks, earning a kick to the shin by his twin. “Boys,” you warn, tone clearly not in the mood for their bickering. They shut up (knowing better than to make you angry) and quietly stand with Shouto while you help the sleepy Yueru out of her seat. Yuuri follows along after her.

Inside, the community center is warm and cozy. You enter the theater room and scan the dark space for enough seats.

“Love, can you take Yuuri to his teacher backstage? I’ll get everyone situated.”

“Of course, darling.” You and your husband trade what you’re carrying: He slips your youngest into your arms while you hand him Yuuri’s recital bag. “Yuu-kun,” you say, smile on your face. “Papa’s going to take you backstage, okay?” The little boy nods. “Okay mama.” You bend down to kiss his forehead. “Good luck, my little star. Have fun!” He smiles bashfully, his cheeks flushing even redder when all of his siblings cheer for him.

“Good luck, Yuu-kun!”

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

Once Shouto is confident that Yuuri is situated with his group, he walks back to where the rest of his family is situated. He sits down next to you and smiles, gently squeezing your hand. Hana, oblivious to this, proceeds to climb onto Shouto’s lap from yours. “Daddy, is Yuu-nii gonna be on stage soon?” she whispers, doe eyes filled with curiosity. “Very soon, Hana-chan,” Shouto answers, brushing a stray strand of hair from his little princess’ face. He turns to his right and notices Yueru swinging her legs slightly.

“Yue-chan, are you excited to see your brother perform?” She nods enthusiastically but tries to keep an inside voice. “Mhm! I promised him that I’d cheer the loudest!” The man chuckles and gently pats her hair.

The house lights dim even further, causing the room to fall quiet. The stage lights flicker on and illuminate the red curtains. When the opening music starts, the drapes begin to part.

There, standing in his little rat costume amongst a group of rats, is a familiar mop of red and white hair. His posture is poised, little hands held in perform form like the rest of the ballet dancers. His face holds an unwavering look of determination and nervousness.

But most importantly, the bright smile on his face is all you need to tell that he’s doing what he likes, and that’s most important thing for both you and Shouto.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅

A/N: (Belated) Merry Christmas everyone!! Thank you very much for reading this Todoroki family child spotlight fic and I hope that you enjoyed it <3 Once the new year rolls in, I'll be doing more child spotlight fics because doing this one was so fun!!! I hope that it wasn't too hard to follow, the headcanons and ideas in my head are all one jumbled mixed pot of spam goulash yum (๑-﹏-๑) Yuuri is absolutely adorable in my head, and i'll get the proper family description out next year (lol)! Just imagine a mini version of Shouto: calm cool and collected (hahahahaha im sorry that wasn't funny)

Anyways!! Thank you thank you thank you so much again for all of your love and support! Every comment, every like, and every reblog motivates me to continue (being delusional) dreaming and creating! Thank you for being a part of this journey and for keeping the magic of my stories alive.

With love (happy new year!!), FujoshiRat