Situationship With Bakugo Headcanons

009. CARNATIONS

In the Todoroki household, Touya's childhood bedroom had been marked as forbidden territory while Shoto was growing up. The door to his older brother's room remained closed all the time.

Almost all the time.

No one dared to touch anything inside. It was like his room had been frozen in time. His old computer remained unplugged and was never turned back on. His colored pencils remained unsharpened and his little school backpack remained untouched since the last time Touya had tossed it into the corner

Shoto had been put in charge of preparing the room for you and Touya's arrival. Fuyumi had asked him to since she was busy cleaning the guest room for you with Natsuo.

Touya would be back home in this room. That was all Shoto could think about as he stood outside the bedroom, a duster and small box of cleaning wipes in his hands

Shoto remembers the times he'd hear the quiet creaks of footsteps against the floorboard late at night, right before hearing Touya's door be slowly pushed open.

Shoto had trouble sleeping when he was younger. He was always able to hear the sound of someone opening Touya's bedroom door late at night. He'd lay in bed, his heart practically beating out of his chest at the thought of his Touya-nii returning home.

He'd get out bed, putting on his slippers and walking towards the door as quietly as he possibly could

There would be this flittering hope inside of the young boy's chest. A small voice in the back of his mind calling out Touya's name. He could already picture his brother's face as he slept, soft cheeks puffed up as he breathed in and out. The reassuring rise and fall of his chest was a sight Shoto desperately wanted to see

Shoto remembers the quiet sound of shuffling inside the room. Movement. Someone was inside.

He didn't know what to do when met with the sight of Natsuo laying in Touya's bed as he cried quietly, his sobs muffled by his brother's pillow. His palms would clutch the blankets and pillows with desperation, a sheen of sweat coating the younger boy's skin as his eyes were screwed shut in pain. Natsuo would be repeating the words "come back nii-san." over and over again.

Touya's last surgery before the holidays had taken place yesterday.

His doctors had been working hard as ever, pushing themselves to the brink of exhaustion as they worked to restore Touya's strength and skin. While his complexion would never be 'normal' again, it had gotten better. It was similar to how he looked when he had first waken up from his coma. While some of the pale, unburnt skin peaked through—there was still the slight discolorizution of burns all over his body.

He's peeling back the bandages on his face, unraveling the soft cloth as it falls into the sink in front of him. He no longer saw Dabi when he looked into the mirror, he saw Touya. He flexes his hands, curling them into the fist and admiring the way the once burnt flesh was restored to something much more healthier. Albeit still scarred—but better.

He stares at his reflection a while longer, tugging the white locks of hair out of his face as he traced over his features, trying to see the man underneath all the scars.

His footsteps are slow and drowsy as he walks back into his room. He squints in the dark as he stares at the red letters of the clock on his bedside table, reading 2:06 AM.

Touya cannot sleep. His small travel bag is packed, sitting on the small couch in his room and waiting to be swung over his shoulder. Knowing he'd be visiting his home in just a little over a week felt like some sort of a fever dream.

His regret and guilt for all of what he had done was embedded into his heart like permanent stitches. It would take so long for those stitches to come undone and for his heart to completely heal. He hadn't apologized to his siblings or mother yet, he hadn't even seen them after the war. Just knowing he hurt them all was a heavy burden on his heart.

Fuyumi and Natsuo were his siblings. They were the ones he had grown up with, they were his family. Shoto on the other hand, felt like some sort of out worldly being to Touya. He blamed his father for how he viewed Shoto. The youngest Todoroki had always felt like some sort of an outsider to Touya, he never really did accept him when he was younger.

Touya saw how your eyes would soften whenever you spoke of his youngest brother. There would be this faraway look in your eyes as you told Touya about Shoto's letters. You'd explain to him how Shoto had a hard time communicating his feelings verbally, so he often wrote down what his heart had to say when his mouth couldn't.

Touya doesn't know when he grabbed the pen or the paper. All he knows is that he did, and suddenly the letters on the page in front of him were forming words.

His handwriting had improved, thanks to you. His spelling too. He could make out the words he was writing when he read back what he had written. His hand moved slowly, languid strokes appearing on the page from his pencil. Touya imagines Shoto isn't very good at reading between the lines from what you've told him about his brother—so he makes his words as short and straight to the point as he can.

Dear Shoto,

I am sorry. I hope we can start over again. I am not good at talking about how I feel either. I like the idea of letters.

Touya.

There were only a few words that Touya had written down, but he read them over and over again until his eyes threatened to close on him. He dragged himself over to the hospital bed, his exhaustion finally hitting him as he fell into a deep slumber the moment his head hit the pillow.

Clutching Touya's winter clothes to your chest, you slowly click his door open and enter. He should've been awake by now—but the sound of his heavy breathing makes you pause in the doorway

You can't help but smile at the sight of him. He's wearing a loose, short sleeve shirt as he laid on his stomach, cheek smushed against his pillow as his hair tickled his brow bone. His back rose and fell slowly.

You set down his things onto the small pull out couch before quietly moving to open the blinds to allow some light to shine into the room.

He stirs the moment the sun's rays fall on him, rolling onto his side with a small groan before going slack again.

Touya's not usually this tired. You imagine he must have had trouble sleeping last night—and the thought makes you frown a little bit.

His sleeping pattern had definitely gotten better, but there were still some nights he'd wake up in a cold sweat to an empty room. Those were moments he needed you most—but, unfortunately for him, you couldn't be with Touya all the time.

It was only a matter of days until the two of you would be sleeping under the same roof in his old home. Your hands are gentle as you splay them over the expanse of Touya's back, and you nudge him awake softly while calling out his name

He wakes up slowly, lashes fluttering as he raises his cheek from his pillow. His eyes widen a bit when he catches sight of you standing over him, and he quickly pushes himself off of his elbows to sit up

"Y/n," He rasps quietly, and you quickly move to unscrew the cap of the bottle of water you had brought, offering it to him. Touya grabs it slowly, taking large, grateful gulps of the chilled drink. You quickly avert your gaze to look down at the floor after seeing the way his adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed down the water.

"Good morning, Touya. How did you sleep?" You ask, carefully dragging your chair closer to his bed as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. His hair is a fluffy mess, and his bangs hang in front of his eyes in wisps as he sends you a sleepy smile

"Like shit. I had a weird dream about Shoto though...he was a fish and I was trying to stab him with my fishing hook, but the little jerk kept...slipping away." He mumbles tiredly, immediately wincing at the look of genuine concern on your face

"That is...very interesting, Touya!"

The rest of the morning consisted of the usual day to day activities. You and Touya had a small chat about Natsuo and Fuyumi, and he spoke of the little bits and pieces he remembered about them from his childhood. There was a small but fond smile on his face as he recalls the times Natsuo and him would play outside in the rain together, a little Fuyumi following them and jumping around in her rain boots.

In the afternoon, you both walked through the gardens once again. Sitting in the grass for a while, you taught Touya a few more breathing exercises for him to practice on. You hold his hand in a gentle grip, a single finger pressed over his pulse as Touya imagined himself melting into the ground.

The grass was covered with a soft layer of dewy snow, and every time Touya exhaled—there would be puffs of chilling white air swirling from his mouth. The cold weather didn't stop either of you from wandering outside—only because you had practically suffocated Touya with a bundle of jackets and enough layers to keep him warm enough through an ice age.

Night came just as it always did, but Touya was about to break routine just a little bit.

His fingers brush over the crinkled paper under his pillow. It had been folded into thirds, and the creases in the paper were very prominent. The reason for this was due to the fact that Touya kept on unfolding and folding the letter over and over again—re reading his words and trying to figure out how to give his letter to you so you could make sure it got to Shoto.

Touya wanted Shoto to read his letter before he came back home, just so Shoto knew that if Touya wouldn't meet his gaze or if his responses to him were cut short—he was still trying his best.

"What's that, Touya?" You question curiously, tilting your head and offering the paper in his hands a quick glance. He stares down at it for a moment before speaking

"I..want you to give this to Shoto."

There's a beat of silence that passes between the two of you. It was like he'd dropped a rock into still water, watching the rippling effects before the surface went still once again. There's a hundred questions swirling in your eyes. Touya can see them. He grabs your hand slowly, gently swiping his thumb over the familiar skin of your knuckles before he places the paper in your hands

"Read it."

Your eyes slowly drag from his eyes to the paper that rested in your hands. His eyes were solemn, forever patient as he waited for you to open his letter

"Are you sure, Touya?" You ask softly, making no move to open the letter until he gave you his confirmation

He nods slowly, staying quiet for a moment before speaking

"I want you to, Y/n."

He needs you to try and understand his feelings for Shoto, which were complicated beyond belief. He used to hold nothing for resentment for him, a hatred that seemed too strong to put out. But now it was put out, and in place of his hatred was a feeling Touya was having a lot of trouble understanding.

Shoto was a good kid. Touya didn't want to mess this up.

You nod before your fingers move to open the letter. Your eyes flow over the few words written on the page quietly. Touya's suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed with how hard and long you were staring at his letter. Come on, his hand writing had improved! Were you still having trouble reading it?

He's about to speak when you suddenly fold the letter back up, reaching into your bag and pulling out a small, personal agenda. There's delicate flowers plastered onto the cover of it, and you open it up to today's date before tucking Touya's letter in between the pages. You close it and place it back into your bag as Touya exhales through his nose

"Thank you," He murmurs quietly, his cheeks flushing warm under your gratifying gaze

There's so many more things Touya wants to say to you. He wants to grab your hands and kiss each one of your fingertips, sensually and slowly.

He thinks you want to reach out and touch him too. Your hand is gentle as you thread your fingers through his and squeeze. There's a thousand unspoken words in the gesture.

Whatever was between you and Touya was an undeniable thing. But your gentle smile is almost like you're saying not yet. He wants to ask you when. But for now, he'll just squeeze your hand back instead.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; hi fellow readers!! :3 i was thinking abt that scene where little touya was trying to talk to little natsuo about endeavor while they were laying down and little natsuo is just falling asleep & nawtt listening. imagine how much he wished he could get those moments with his big bro back after touya burned up 🥺

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Getting slightly into the Christmas spirit now 🎄❤️

hiiii rue i love ur writing i will read anything u write! That being said, any form of Denki smau with exceptionally forward reader who makes him nervous… would be… very swag.

hes so paatheettiiccc but i also think he'd love getting his licks back like he's teeheeing and blushing and rubbing his hands together like a fly behind the screen thinking of a witty reply HEHE thank yew denki nation🫡🫡

show me how // denki kaminari

-

mha tag: @lotuslovers @babylambdietcoke @0skullyard0 @kaldurahms-lover @commonmisery @moonstonejpg @twoplayergaymers @simp-plague @xvilluis

just sink your fangs into my neck, man. it won’t be weird. i promise

Instructions unclear, they’re boyfriends now 🤷🏻‍♀️

the reason for the season

If reqs are open..I was wondering if you could make a mha smau with y/n flirting with Izuku and whoever else you’d like to add! (Pre relationship)

⁀➷ us perchance?

pairing. midoriya x fem!reader

genre. fluff, humor, kinda crackish

notes. i think mido is the physical embodiment of the 😅 emoji

back | masterlist | next

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Leather and Lace

BikerBakugou x Ballet instructor

Part 4

(All photos from Pinterest)

You’d been grumbling to yourself as you balanced the bowl of water in your hand, swinging the door open with your other, in a rage you couldn’t quit place. As the wooden door flies open and you lean forward to place the bowl onto the porch Izukus cat had apparently claimed as home- a hand reaches out to grab the stupid Gatorade you’d tucked securely under your arm. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Bakugou, the black jeans and black sneakers you were eye level with were proof enough.

“Don’t you have illegal money you can spend on your own beverages?” You hadn’t quite settled from the shaking from your almost run in with the law, so seeing Bakugou with a smug look on his face made your anger worse. “Stop coming here, I don’t want t-.”

“I didn’t come here for the drink, just needed you to open the door.” You hadn’t even returned to your full height, but Bakugou was strolling past you and into your home that you hadn’t invited him into. “We need to talk.”

“Get the hell out-.” Your protests are cut short, and completely ignored when Bakugou places his phone to his ear and steps into your living room. “What the hell!?”

“I’m working on it, stop blowing my phone up.” You could see his shoulders tensing as a loud voice yells from his phone. Who ever he was speaking to, was not too happy and Bakugou clearly didn’t want to be speaking to them about it. “I told you it wasn’t her. Pull me from the roster and tell your damn investors to mind their business the only contract I’m signing is one that gets me far the hell away from you.”

Bakugou ends the call and shoves his phone into his front pocket, you didn’t know if you should continue trying to kick him out or question what the hell he’d been talking about. As the air stills around you and headlights pass through the living room Bakugou finally turns back to face you. The uncomfortable and tense moment he’d just experienced seeming to have passed before you’ve registered what was happening.

“You decorate this place yourself?” He asks, eyes roaming your colorfully decorated living room painfully. While his face twists in disgust seeing your choice in decor, you clear your throat to catch his attention. “Never mind, I can tell you did.”

“Why did you just let yourself into my home?” You weren’t expecting company and seeing the pile of dishes in your sink suddenly made you feel self conscious. “And can you leave now?”

The Gatorade he’d lied about wanting is set on your coffee table, being forgotten as Bakugou plops down onto your vibrantly yellow sofa. For someone who accused you of stalking him- he sure was making himself at home. You’d asked him to leave and instead he sat himself in your spot.

“Who else did you blab to?” A frustrated sigh escaped his parted lips, making you raise an eyebrow in disbelief. He came all the way here to ask that? That’s literally why they invented cellphones. “And what did they have to say?”

“You couldn’t have texted me? You have no issue texting me for a damn sports drink.” You’d already been in a weirdly angry mood before he showed up so his stupid reason for showing up was just the icing on the cake. “You need to leave.”

“I feel like it’s in your best interest I stay put.” Awfully arrogant. You scoff and cross your arms, sitting on the opposite side of the couch and glancing in his direction. He looked calm, but the twitch of his index finger resting on his thigh made you question if he was just pretending to be. “Someone mentioned you by name to me, heard about what happened with the cops.”

“Me?” No one had been around when Bakugou pulled up and got you out of there. Did Jiro tell someone else? She wouldn’t have, right? “I only told Jiro. All she told me was she was surprised you helped.”

“You understand that if you’d have stopped following me around this would have never happened, right?” His eyes stay trained on your bread shaped coasters while you fight the urge to scream. “Stop coming around and you should be fine.”

“You’re aware you showed up here, right? Maybe you should stop coming around.” The constant accusation that you’d been following him around was starting to make you boil with anger. “Let’s not forget, you continue to approach me. You continue to text me. I’m not sure what gave you the impression I’m obsessed with you, but I promise you it’s actually quite the opposite.”

Your feet tuck themselves below you, angling you to face the man who stared back at you with an angry expression. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume he was actually bothered you weren’t obsessed with him. He came here to talk about your name being brought up, so maybe he truly was obsessed.

“Look, whatever is going on will blow over eventually, I can guarantee I won’t be at another one of those races. Against my will or not.” You notice his finger that had been previously twitch now twists a black ring on his middle finger. Was he really this worried? Was it because he knew who your dad was? “Why are you worried anyway? Wouldn’t I be the one in trouble? You didn’t say they mentioned you by name.”

“If my suspicions are correct, you’re only being mentioned to attempt to drag me down when you fall.” What? Why would anyone assume he’d be the one helping you if you were in trouble over this? As far as literally everyone( including yourself) knew, you hardly even knew him. “You work at the dance place right?”

He had to have heard about it from Izuku, but you were still surprised he knew anything about you at all. Like previously mentioned, you hardly knew him and figured he hardly knew you either. Still, knowing he knew where you worked made you wonder if that day in the rain he’d only gone past you because he knew you’d be there. He seemed to have splashed you on purpose any way.

“Why does it matter?” You question instead. Figuring bringing up the rain incident would only piss both of you off more. “Looking for a job? I don’t think teaching little kids ballet would really suit y-.”

“I know someone who goes by there, I’ll have him keep an eye on you.” A hand runs through his hair, another sigh leaving his lips as he stands to his feet. “Stop letting raccoon eyes drag you out so much. It’s obvious you don’t enjoy it anyway.”

“Hold on- keep an eye on me?” You all but laugh, you weren’t a child who needed baby sat. Plus, if your name was brought up what could his friend do against the literal police? “Unless your buddies a cop I don’t see how he could be of much help.”

“Firstly, he’s not my buddy. He just owes me a few favors.” Looking up at him, you can’t help but feel a weird sense of relief. At least he seemed to want to keep you out of trouble. Even if it was trouble you never wanted to be a part of to begin with. “Secondly, he is a cop. Unfortunately for you though, I could care less if you got arrested.”

“Huh? Then why are you worried that someone knows my name?” He says nothing, watching you stand to your feet to follow him to the door. He came over to talk, yet he wasn’t giving you much information at all. “You’re sending me a baby sitter, that implies you care if I get arrested.”

His hand reaches for the doorknob, not commenting on what you’d said and ignoring you clear thirst for information. With little time to react and a thousand questions running through your mind, you reach forward and slide the lock before his fingertips can even come in contact with the metal. If he was going to show up, let himself in and then send someone to keep tabs on you- he could at least tell you why.

“I forgot, daddy probably never taught you to mind your business.”

His jab seemed to be spiteful, as if your relationship with your father had affected him somehow and throwing it in your face made him feel better about what ever it was that bothered him about it. Your eyebrows come together in confusion, not noticing him reaching around you to unlock the door and pull it open in one swift motion. The door comes in contact with your back, pushing you forward just enough to collide with his chest.

“Learn to stay out of things you know nothing about.” The embarrassment trailing up your neck reaches your face the moment he looks down at you. “It’s not the police I’m worried about, your dad would bail you out regardless of your lack of communication.”

“Then who are you worried about?” You couldn’t think of a reason he’d show up here if not for the police nearly catching you. You step back, tucking your hair behind your ears as you press further. “The police are the only people who’d be looking for me right? To try and link me to the racing or whatever, so-.”

“I don’t have time to explain this shit to you, so just carry on and stay the hell away so I can handle it without you showing up every time I leave my house.” Your eyes roll, watching as he steps onto the porch where, of course, Izukus cat laid happily. “Just take the damn cat in, he hates Dekus place. It’s not like you have company to worry about him anyway.”

You can’t help but feel annoyed as he reminds you that you don’t have company. He was probably just assuming, but hearing him acknowledge it was both embarrassing and infuriating. Your hand resting on the door begins to close it shut, not caring to properly tell this man goodbye.

“I guess your daddy never taught you to mind your business.”

———

-Parchy

———

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.ᐟ sign this for me

k.takami smau

when you’re the assistant to the #2 hero

a/n: i made an exception with half my screen missing to post for keigo’s birthday. back into my hole i go

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