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phantasmiac · 1 year

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in which you intern at the endeavor agency to learn the ropes but you learn to love ua student!touya instead

cw/tw: gender neutral reader (referred to as pretty + beautiful), touya has his old personality kinda, death of a relative, making out

wc: 5.4k

a/n: as far as i know shiketsu students don’t do internships in canon but the fantasy must live on. high school sweetheart!touya follow up can be read here.

during the first semester of your first year at shiketsu high, you’re offered an internship at the endeavor agency. you initially approach the offer with skepticism, already familiar with the number two’s notoriety, before coming to the conclusion that you’d have to be a complete idiot to pass up the opportunity. dealing with the stick shoved up endeavor’s ass for a short period of time was a small price to pay for long term success.

it’s through this internship that you meet the famous todoroki touya, in all his high school boy glory. son of the big man himself, one time winner of the ua sports festival; wasn’t so lucky the second time, though you’d think otherwise with the size of his massive ego. you loathe the way he has that stupid smirk plastered on his face 24/7, the way he always he always has some witty comment stored in his pocket. how he always tries starting shit with you, mentioning the ua-shiketsu rivalry like you’re some school patriot or something. of course you would’ve chosen ua over your military boot camp of a school if you had the chance. does he think you enjoy wearing this stupid cap all the time? maybe he should consider transferring since he likes stealing it off your head so much.

you hate the flock of teenage girls and boys he attracts on all your shared patrol routes, it’s fucking distracting. for you, at least, because he somehow always manages to get the job done regardless of all the chaos he’s either ensuing or attracting. it’s infuriating. and fuck do you hate how good looking he actually is. you’re under the impression that you’ve done a good job at maintaining your whole “uninterested” act but he sees right through you.

(“too bad your school has that dating ban shit….”

your eyes widen a bit. you start looking through the file you were reading more quickly and aimlessly to seem a little less attentive towards his words, but you become self conscious of how frantic you must seem and it only makes you feel more embarrassed. you’re avoiding looking at him, but you’re sure he’s revelling in how flustered he’s made you.

“i know there’s charitable people out there who’d be willing to take you out.”

his face meets your folder before he can blink.)

the things you hate about touya are the same things you like about him. he’s a cocky motherfucker, sure, but that also makes him less of a pussy. you’re not exactly a fan favorite at your school. your peers seem to think it unfair that you were born with such a powerful quirk; one that allows you to engulf your entire body in plasma, hot or cold. and some people are born lucky, and others straight up hit the fucking jackpot at birth. you’re not only able to conjure your own plasma, but you can even manipulate any form of it in your vicinity. truthfully, you thought todoroki touya would get in line with those green eyed monsters. he always did have a knack for proving people wrong.

(“i was kind of hopi — i mean thinking, you’d be like….. totally naked, after that. fire proof suit, duh. but that heat was insane. you need to spar me sometime!”)

and can you really complain about him provoking you, as if you don’t love banter? and perhaps his witty comments can be a little funny — when they aren’t directed towards you.

you begin to like todoroki touya a lot more in the middle of the second semester of your second year, on a particularly rainy night in musutafu. you’ve been hard at work all day, and it ends off with a burglar who gives you a harder time than most petty criminals you’ve encountered so far. to make matters worse, the rain has been ongoing all day, which isn’t ideal for either of your quirks. your ears have been cursed with the sounds of touya’s “i’m starving”’s and “when can we go home already”’s for hours. normally you’d jump at the opportunity to tell him off for acting like a baby, but the grumbles of your own stomach aren’t giving you much of a right.

your feet ache from all the running and walking of today’s patrol. your neighborhood is on your current route, so you have the advantage of being able to soon burst through your door and fall face first onto your mattress. touya isn’t so lucky; he’s still a long way from the train station, and he hasn’t even checked when the next train is set to arrive. guilt pools in your stomach when the silhouette of your house comes into view.

if touya’s jealous of you, he doesn’t say. just yawns out an “i’ll see you tomorrow” and waves weakly at you before going on his merry way. as you’re climbing your front steps, something compels you to give him another glance. the sight of his back is only getting smaller and smaller, but you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just let a stray kitten back out onto the streets.

your head tells you to get your ass inside and bask in some grub and relaxation, but your treacherous heart has other plans. you’re glad he’s focused on the road in front of him, or else he’d see your mental battle getting all weird and physical. you’re twisting and turning and grimacing before you’ve even officially embarrassed yourself, until it’s time to finally throw in the towel and groan in defeat.

“hey!” you yell, a bit louder than necessary (you definitely startled a few neighbors). voice might’ve even cracked, just a tad (he definitely noticed).

touya turns abruptly, an eyebrow raised and hands in his pocket as his eyes scan for some other person you might be croaking at. seeing no one, he gives you his attention.

“do you… maybe wanna come inside? it’s getting really late, and…. if you get into trouble on the way home it won’t be good for you to fight on an empty stomach.”

there is genuine surprise written on his face, the smug look you were expecting nowhere to be found. he thinks it over for a few seconds before responding.

“this your way of finally making a move on me?”

there it is.

“or you can starve. bye!”

“joking! what's for dinner? hey! please!”

your grandma loves touya. gushes over how handsome he is and tells him that tired story of the time she saw endeavor up close and personal.

(“i wouldn’t be standing here today if it weren’t for that man!” every. single. time.)

but touya is a daddy’s boy through and through, maintaining an expression that reads “yup, that’s my dad” through the whole thing. he wolfs down your grandma’s dinner like it’s the best thing he’s ever had the privilege of consuming, and you find that amusing because you’re positive all that pro hero money his dad brings home grants him the finest of meals from the finest of chefs. “i can tell you made this with love,” he tells her. grade-a ass kissing. his flattery makes you want to gag, but it’s nice seeing your grandma all happy. not that she isn’t a naturally cheery old woman, but you know she loves a visitor now and then, and her loser grandchild isn’t doing her any favors. it can get lonely, at times, just the two of you in the house.

and it’s nice seeing this side of touya. it’s like watching him strip himself of his armor. no over the top antics or bravado. you consider that you could be the first person outside of his family to see him this way, but if you think about it for too long, you might trigger your quirk and melt right through the floor, so you keep scrubbing at the dishes to distract yourself, as if you aren’t complete shit at hiding your expressions.

“what are you grinning about?”

so much for beating the heat. your face grows a little hot, but seeing as there’s no radiant light that follows, you assume you’re not having some freak show reaction. and for that you’re grateful, so you decide to indulge him, just this once, shaking your head in an attempt to compose yourself.

you give him a small smile (so much for not blinding him with your light).

“i’m just thinking about how wild it is that todoroki touya is in my house, kicking it with my grandma. i sound like one of your little fans, i know. but it’s true, that you’re like, basically a celebrity.”

as a treat for successfully going 5 seconds without responding like an asshole, you continue.

“i guess being your partner for the past few months made me forget you’re some…. hot shot heir to the todoroki throne or whatever. and so many people have seen your face, know your name, but they don’t really know you. how many lives did i save in my past life to gain the privilege of getting to know someone as delightful as you.”

the last part was an obvious joke; at least you thought it was. but touya is looking at you in such an indecipherable manner that it has you wondering if he took it literally. maybe you freaked him out. my partner was actually my obsessive stalker-fan. that’d make a good story for some magazine when he’s #1.

touya’s lips are slightly parted. he presses them back into a line, chewing on one of his piercings. his grip on the marble counter is tight, and his adam's apple is bobbing up and down like it’s charging up for whatever he’s about to say next.

“so…. so what do you think? of me?”

huh. you never knew he came with a low volume option.

his question catches you off guard. it’s one he’d normally have answered for you already by adjusting the pitch of his voice to mock you and all. he’d probably call himself touya the great or something, and add some kissy sounds at the end for a little pizazz. pass up an opportunity to portray you as utterly infatuated with him? unheard of.

but he doesn’t sound anything like his usual massive headed self when he asks his question, and you feel an eagerness creeping up your throat that makes you think touya’s typical rendition of your character is about to become real accurate.

“i think…. i think you’re….i think you’re pretty cool. and not in the ‘holy shit he’s strong’ way. i mean, yeah, that too, but….” something hits the light switch inside you. “hey did you know you, like, catch fire when you’re excited? they’re just tiny little flames, like, poof!” you motion with your hands.

(if there’s one way to get touya moping, it’s giving him a “boring” patrol route. you’d think having lower crime rates is a bad thing the way he starts to whine about what “little action” he’s gonna get that day. but if there’s any way to raise his spirits, it seems like reminding him that you’ll be tagging along — not like you’ve been his partner for months now or anything — is the most effective. you can’t even bring yourself to berate him for forgetting about you, the way he quite literally flickers blue at the mention of you like he’s wagging some imaginary tail.)

“— but it’s something i’ve noticed. and i’ve seen you cry, a lot, like when you lost the spo — like when you’re frustrated, and stuff.”

(it was late at night the first time you’d seen him all vulnerable. most of the heroes seen throughout the building during the day had head on home, and those who usually took on the night shifts were slowly trickling in. you were appreciating the rare, momentary silence after a particularly long day, under the presumption that you were all alone on the locker room floor. it wasn’t until you were making your own exit — practically skipping to the elevator with your bag flung over your shoulder — that soft sniffles rang through your ears. your glee morphed into concern as you followed the sounds to their source, all the way to a neglected vending machine at the corner of the floor.

your eyes landed on the last person you’d expected, crouched and hidden away. and now instead of concern, awkwardness began filling your limbs and cementing you in place. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to console touya; no, you wanted to be the one to wipe his tears and doubts away. you just thought your pity — or even just the sight of someone witnessing him at his lowest — would infuriate him. maybe he was too proud for a shoulder to lean on.

you’re too busy weighing out your options to notice touya looking up at you with red eyes and a snotty nose. he snaps you out of your thoughts when he asks you how long you’ve been standing there “like a creep”. not long, you tell him, both honestly and anxiously. you’re not sure your heart can handle being genuinely yelled at by him. the building is more than familiar with the sounds of his and enji’s yells coming from the number two’s office, and they’re not pleasant to listen to.

in the end, it doesn’t have to bear that weight. because touya just balls up his fists to rub at his eyes, chuckling about how he’s never able to hold back his stupid crybaby tears. they’re not stupid, you tell him. he just feels things more strongly than others. it’s an admirable trait to have.

touya watches you fish through your bag for some coins before letting it drop to the ground.

“it seems like the pros always talk about their feelings over a drink so….. coke or fanta?”)

“— anyways i know it’s cheesy but it’s encouraged me to be more open with my own emotions, too. and when your siblings visit the agency, it’s sweet, seeing you interact with them. i can tell how much you love them.”

you don’t realize your smile’s only gotten goofier as you visualize the image of him teasing his brother and sister, the flicks he gives them on the forehead like they’re his own little love language.

“oh! and you… you care, i guess? i don’t know if that’s the right way to put it, but you make an effort, you know? like when i give you song recommendations, you actually listen to them; means you’re listening to me, too.”

(it sounds incredibly corny, but loneliness truly has been your best friend since your first year at shiketsu. your classmates have made it very clear that they never want to hear any more than they have to from or about you; every time you’ve dared to cross the line they’ve drawn, you’ve been met with daggers for gazes and cold shoulders. touya’s naturally confused when you visibly shrink the moment your rambles get a little too passionate. a small pout forms on his face at the dimming of the twinkle in your eyes. but it can’t possibly compare to the confusion you feel when you see him the next day, and he’s suddenly stocked on knowledge about whatever the hell you were talking about yesterday. the gatekeeper in you is a little offended, but the wallflower is tinted pink.)

“and since i’m being so honest, fine, you have some good jokes, sometimes. you’re nice to talk to when you’re not being a complete pain in the ass.” a lovesick sigh escapes you. “yeah. i think you’re a really cool guy.”

your fingers are all pruny from the way you’ve been dragging the washing of the dishes. the crickets outside are having a field day and you can hear the soap foam pop and crackle. it’s quiet. touya is quiet, and he has been for awhile now. the sponge drops out of your hand along with your stomach at the realization.

you turn to him, quickly scrambling for words to apologize for word vomiting all over him, only to find him looking at you with a haze cast over his stupidly pretty eyes, in a way that disables you from your impromptu plan of punching him on the shoulder and calling him bro or some other friendly term of endearment. you’re not exactly the romance connoisseur or anything but that is not the look of a “bro”. that is the look of a teenage boy who is about to shut his eyes way too early, pucker his lips, and lean in at an obscenely slow rate.

that’s not how it happens, though. who do you take him for? some amateur? (he’s not. he’s a hot dude, sue him. not like any of those times mattered the way this does.)

the hand he places on your waist has electricity whipping up and down your spine, and your feet slipping under you. your hands plant themselves on his chest to avoid falling on your ass, but his tightening grip has already guaranteed your safety. now you’ve only found yourself even closer to him, and he takes the opportunity to cup the back of your neck and pull you forward. your eyes clam shut in anticipation. but the sensation of his lips on yours doesn’t arrive as quickly as you imagined. your nose brushes against the cool metal pierced through his own as his breath fans against your lips. time has stilled; he’s giving you a chance to pull away.

flusterment turns into frustration. the part of you that “hates” todoroki touya wants to bonk him on the head and call him a dumbass. have you not made yourself clear? you huff before moving your hands up his chest (foul play, he thinks) to wrap themselves around his neck and smooch him. now he’s the one hmphing, eyes opening wide in realization that this was actually fucking happening. after he’s composed himself, he’s somehow pulling you closer, grabbing you tighter, as if you could merge into one. that gets a gasp out of you, which touya takes as an invitation. hands are roaming and tongues are clashing; it’s sloppy, like most teenage make out sessions are. touya’s snake bites aren’t making it any more classy, and you giggle into his mouth at the thought how much metal gets in the way of you and his face. he doesn’t know that, of course, and assumes your sounds are from the sheer joy of this moment (they are, too) and smiles against your lips, leaning into the feeling of your hands holding his face.

no other senses are as important to either of you as touch or feel are in the heat of the moment. but at the sound of the familiar creak of the old floorboards, you find gratitude in your ability to hear. it enables you to snap out of your daze and yank touya’s hands off of you. you think you must be one of the strongest people in the world to be able to gather enough self control to break the kiss. in that case, touya has to be incredibly weak, the way he’s pouting and pawing at you to continue, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. he looks so damn cute, but you’re not willing to subject your poor grandmother's eyes to some high school pda.

as soon as she appears at the archway of the kitchen, remnants of his pr and media training take effect. he plays the role of boy who wasn’t just sucking your face all too well, a polite smile plastering itself on his face as he places his hands on the counter behind him.

your grandma, ever so oblivious and wholesome, holds a futon and a blanket in her arms, pestering touya about how dark and unsafe it is out there for a little boy like him (she says all this with her head thrown all the way back just to meet his eyes). you don’t process much of what they’re saying, still all flustered and disheveled. all you know is that touya’s ultimately decided to stay the night on your living room floor.

the last thing you see before heading off to your room for the night is touya’s knowing, teasing, shit-eating grin as he unrolls the futon on the floor, and the last thing you hear is your grandmother fussing over you.

(“you look a mess. my poor grand baby, working so hard every day,” her hands move from taming the flyaways on your head to caressing your face. “gosh you’re warm! are you running a fever? is that man overworking you kids?”)

though the afterglow of the kiss has your pillow feeling pleasantly cold and your mattress abnormally cloud like, your mind is nowhere near as tranquil. it’s riddled with thoughts of touya. the phantom feeling of his lips against yours only contributes to your restlessness. the first batch of your thoughts leave butterflies in your stomach. you allow yourself to indulge in fantasies of a potential future with the boy who holds your heart. you realize how delusional and foolish you seem; it’s exactly why you’d quickly shut those fantasies out when they would threaten to play out in the past, during silent nights just like this, where your mind would run rampant. but touya has now given you a glimmer of hope, and you can’t help but reach out for it and hold it close. touya liked you. liked you a whole lot if his… manners were any indication.

touya liked you. as the fact sinks in, your earlier words come to mind. touya was born to be huge, and he had no intentions of disappointing those who believed in him. touya had a destiny, while you lived in constant fear of never finding any meaning in your life. while training to be a hero was an honor, it was never your dream. as a child, you wondered why the universe had bestowed such a gift upon someone who had no desire for it; until “family” was numbered down to just you and your grandmother. you began to see your quirk as a resource rather than a gift. a resource that would allow you to provide for your little family, to secure a long life of comfort. and for the sake of optimism, you even became a little hopeful. hopeful that your purpose would manifest itself as you were surrounded by peers as “gifted” as yourself.

it never did happen that way.

when you first met touya, you were instantly struck with envy. the force of his ambition was overwhelming, to the point where you minimized him down to that single quality. he was the golden boy with his stupid dream. but a moth is bound to be drawn to a flame, and touya always burned especially bright. his tiniest details stuck to you like embers, and eventually you gave up on trying to scrub yourself clean of them. you learned to bask in his warmth; warmth you’d foolishly expected from others.

you feel like you’ve been grabbed by the shoulders and shaken awake from months of slumber, forced to open your eyes to reality. and maybe the reality is that you’re selfish. selfish for getting too comfortable in the presence of someone as sensational as touya. selfish for bringing him down to your level, selfish for ignoring the gap between you for so long.

you should feel guilty. you should feel ashamed.

instead all you feel is urgency. and maybe you’re not as valiant as touya, or as resilient. but you’re sure as hell as impulsive. it’s why your body tends to move to the beat of its own drum, and why it forces you to rip off your blankets and mindlessly race down to the living room. touya must have heard your vigorous stomping from a mile away, because he’s already sitting up on the floor all confused and watching you with puppy dog eyes. not even those downright freaky eyes are enough to freeze the adrenaline coursing through your veins. it’s still pumping when you drop to your knees to reach his level and slap your hands on the floor just to get all up in his face.

touya gulps. partially because of the close proximity, but mostly because you look pissed. you’re breathing all heavy and you’re frowning at him, so he can only conclude that you’re gonna tell him to stay the fuck away from you or threaten to yank all the piercings out of his skin if he ever even thinks about pulling that shit from earlier ever again (not an unheard of threat, by the way).

“i just realized you said see you tomorrow when you were about to go home,” you blurt out.

touya’s head is too anxiety ridden to notice how frenetic you sound. actually, i never want to see you again, is what he thinks you’ll say next, which pains him, especially now when your lips are just inches away and he’s fiending to get another taste of you. he can’t even ogle at them one last time with the way you’re staring at him expectantly for a response.

“yeah, so?” is the best he can muster through bated breath.

“tomorrow’s sunday.” your frown has slightly dissipated and your eyes have shifted to watch your fidgeting hands. you look…. dejected. touya can’t stand seeing you this way, even if you’re confusing (and scaring, honestly) the absolute shit out of him.

“oh. i’m sorry.” he’s not entirely sure what he’s apologizing for, but he’ll do it as many times as you want him to. but you don’t want his apology. to hell with not being selfish. you want him to want you.

touya thinks you’ve finally decided to kill him when you lunge at him and knock him back into the coffee table. instead, he finds himself reaching the pearly gates of heaven for the second time that day when you grab a fistful of his hair and slot your mouth over his. in the darkness of the room, he’s able to see what exactly you were talking about earlier. hues of blue illuminate your surroundings. they don’t extinguish when the two of you find yourselves tumbling to the ground, lips still locked. the position has you straddling him, and it gets him hot and bothered enough to pull away slightly in fear of igniting completely.

touya is breathless when you look down at him. it doesn’t help that your eyes are reflecting the color of his flames. you look beautiful. he realizes he must’ve thought out loud when you bury your pretty face in his neck. the feeling of your soft breathing makes him jolt. shivers run through him when you begin to whisper against him, hands still running through his hair.

“tomorrow’s sunday…. but i still want to see you. is that okay?”

is it okay for me to stay by your side?

when you look back at the remaining days of your second year, it’s difficult to recall a single one that didn’t include touya attached to your side. there was an agreement, after that night, that all forms of affection would be reserved for the privacy of your home. it was a reluctant agreement from both sides, but it was a necessary one, given the rules of “shitketsu”, as he liked to call it. it’s laughable how fucked that agreement was from the very beginning.

touya couldn’t pretend if his life depended on it. when you’d scold him for trailing behind you like a puppy all day, he’d whine about how he couldn’t help it. “the heart wants what it wants!” he’d huff with his hands on his hips and his chest all puffed out, posing like a real hero. some fights aren’t worth losing, your grandmother used to say, and the odds never seemed to be in your favor anyway; not when he’d act so cute. so you’d just chuckle and let your head fall on his chest, mumbling something about how he had to make a bigger effort tomorrow — he never did, but fortunately your grandmother used to tell you some mumbo jumbo about acceptance, too.

a boy who is head over heels for you. some might question — rhetorically — if you could possibly ask for more. and you would answer that you could, with all the guilt in the world pooling in your stomach. because touya would look at you through heart shaped pupils. hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear while you napped after a long day. he’d kiss your doubt shaped tears away during your weakest moments like he cared and yet —

(“i didn’t raise you to end up walking in somebody else’s shadow. where’s your head at? don’t tell me it’s been clouded with some foolish desire for romance. leave that nonsense to your peers —”

“it’s not like that!”

“you think the greats wasted their time on trivial things like boyfriends or girlfriends—”

“i just said it’s not like that.”

“i have no interest in the technicalities of your involvement. i only ask that you don’t let it distract you from your goal. you’re not like the others. you’re my son.”)

happiness can only exist in acceptance. you remember those words now. and you were happy, for a while, feigning ignorance. not much had changed after that conversation, so who were you to complain? he was still your touya, and that should have been enough.

the distance grew subtly: rain checks, some messages left on read, nothing unusual. at the end of your second year, you decided not to renew your contract with the agency; touya didn’t question it, but neither did you when he’d said something along the lines of your decision “being for the best” instead of putting up a fight like you’d expected. you don’t know whether or not a fight would have saved your relationship from slipping through your fingers; only that your insecurities wouldn’t even let you try. before you knew it messages weren’t being exchanged for days, then weeks, and then eventually at all. rain checks became empty promises that paved the way for his eventual disappearance from your life.

touya had nothing to say about your decision to withdraw from shiketsu at the beginning of your final year, no words of sympathy for you while you sobbed over your grandmother’s open casket. there was no one to spin you around and pepper your face in obnoxiously loud and wet kisses after you’d completed your training at the district police academy, or moved into your first apartment; one you’d always fantasized about sharing.

you figure it must have been easy for touya to erase you from his life, considering your face has never been plastered on billboards and your name hasn’t been included in the headlines of any newspapers (lucky). there’s no room for resentment in your heart by the time you’ve been promoted from officer to detective. you’re good at what you do, always have been. but now that you can say you’re passionate about your job, living a dream you never knew you had, you know you’ve grown. the person you are now wouldn’t envy the wonder boy you met four years ago.

you do, however, find yourself pitying the current number five hero — young and quickly rising up the charts — when his “rowdy” behavior lands him at the center of controversies. the image of endeavor bursting a vein over all of blueflame’s scandals occasionally crosses your mind. you’ve both changed, that much is evident. whether the state of having “moved on” is applicable to both sides is a question that arises when you stumble upon images of him and some hot new mystery person on social media. the amount of people the cremation hero has been linked with since his debut couldn’t be counted on both your hands and feet combined, but it isn’t often that you’re forced to see photo evidence of his flings with your own eyes.

it’s then that you’re reminded of the shooting star that managed to melt through your fireproof hold; and that they never tell you exactly how much time is supposed to heal your wounds.

★ a/n pt. 2: so this was originally supposed to be a full ua student to pro hero touya fic but i felt like splitting it into two parts instead so stay tuned for that ig. in this part i characterized him as if he retained some of his baby traits (bratty and annoying in comic sans) but in part two he’ll act a little more canon compliant (bratty and annoying but in black metal font) since there’s a time skip and people change.

☆ fun fact: i wanted to make readers quirk fire related bc it’s canon that endeavor takes in a lot of fire quirk users at his agency and i immediately thought to rip off human torch. but then i started looking into what exactly plasma is (since human torch is described as using a “fiery” plasma) and i still Do Not Totally Get It BUT i learned that hot plasma is.. hot.. and “cold” plasma is great at fighting bacteria/infections (like on burns wink wink) which i thought was cool and useful so i just slapped that baby right on there like some flex tape. definitely not educated enough on the subject to delve into it in the story.

#BOOOOOOOO #this took me so long to finish for no reason #dabi drabble #dabi headcanons #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #dabi #dabi angst #dabi x y/n #dabi fanfic #dabi fluff

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