įÆā pairing: pro hero! todoroki shouto x fem! reader
įÆā w/c: 2.2k
įÆā tags to note: established relationship, fluff beyond your wildest dreams, caretaking, excessive rambling & shoutoās lethal pout/sass combo ā°
įÆā a/n: weāre doing it. weāre really doing it. this is the first piece iāve written for the bnha fandom in years upon years, and quite predictably iām shaking in my cow slippers. if itās bad, forgive me and donāt tell me. if itās good, then i havenāt lost my spark ! title is from our house by crosby-stills-nash-young, & the fic is loosely inspired by it ! not edited, not betaād ā°
early fall brings with it a warmth, despite the chill.
mornings are easier, in a sense; the sticky-hot unforgiving nature of summer is fading, a ghost of heat in the middle of the day if youāre lucky, sweat behind your knees and along the small of your back. thereās still a hint of that late august recklessness in everyone, not yet stamped out by mid-septemberās firm hold. but the mornings and evenings are still bathed in that inky periwinkle that brings cold, the clouds a little denser, the air full of wet promises ā fat raindrops and lazy mornings inside.
itās raining when you wake, the bedroom awash in hues of cobalt and moon grey, kissing down the walls as the colors stretch from the half open window. thereās a rustling breeze, soothing in all its quiet, and for a moment you canāt fathom why in the world youāve woken up, when all the worldās a dream just for you.
the tickle of hair against your nose and the daintiest of inhales ā hardly registering as a snore ā enlightens you. turning your head just enough to see what you already know is there, a soft laugh on the tip of your tongue despite the familiarity of it all. shoutoās like two tons of personalized pro hero weighted blanket atop you, one strong arm wound warm around your waist; heās got his nose buried in your neck so deeply youād worry how heās breathing if it wasnāt commonplace by now, desperate to burrow himself as close as he can. youād tried to explain to him once, giggly with sleep and adoration, that he couldnāt actually burrow himself under your skin, that the laws of physics would protest. the answering pout was faint, but you could read his micro expressions so easily now: damn the laws of physics, and damn anyone who tried to stop him, plain and simple. youād simply smiled at him, all soft and melted at the edges, and let him do as he pleased.
but this morning is special, highlighted in still-wet red ink and circled twice for good measure. itās rare that shouto got to spend the entire weekend with you, patrols and paperwork a never ending dance. fortunately or unfortunately, depending on who youād ask, heās been a little too overzealous his last few patrols, expended a little too much of his quirk to be healthy. with the combined force of you and his rather frightening manager, heās on verifiable house arrest for the weekend, all yours in every sense of the word. the real trouble you face at the moment is wiggling out of his hold without immediately waking him ā a monumental task, one youāve failed many times before. as such, youāve got a plan of attack.
the first step is to acclimate him slowly; little movements, careful and gentle as not to alert him. his grip tightens around your waist at the first few, as though even in sleep he couldnāt bear to be separated from you. itās unbelievably sweet, and it nearly derails your mission ā you spend a precious few minutes cooing over him silently, brushing stray red and white strands off his forehead. but you wonāt be deterred, not that easily, and after two years of dating you like to think youāre immune to how beautiful he is in the morning, lost to dreams and peaceful sleep. you are in fact, not immune, hence the delay.
then you have to make up for your lack of warmth, of course ā shoutoās horribly perceptive, and you canāt just slip out of his arms so easily. a pillow is necessary, but not one of the many that litter the bed ā no, heād recognize that far too easy. it has to smell like you, be warmed by you, and as such you carefully nudge the pillow that had been resting beneath your head into the gap youāve made between his arms and yourself. itās always risky, watching with bated breath to see if heāll wake, but the universe seems to agree with you this morning, and all he does is breathe a little deeper and hug the pillow close. success, a victory ! it only makes you that much more determined to execute your plan, even if the sight of him sleep-warm and cozy is tempting enough to leave an ache right alongside your heart. you allow yourself the lightest kiss to the crown of his head before starting your day, tiptoeing to the bathroom.
ordinarily youād be content to linger with him through the morning, let the rain keep you both in some hazy impersonation of sleep, but you know better ā shouto isnāt one to relax easily when thereās work that could be done, and you know the stacks of paperwork left behind at his agency are still weighing heavy on his mind. if youāre to convince him that staying put is the only option, youāve got to get a headstart on taking care of him before heās too awake to protest it. heās a stubborn one, your hero, and far too good at making counter arguments ā namely, kissing you so sweetly you forget everything you meant to say. you donāt have very much time despite your tricks, as clever as they were; shoutoās never stayed asleep longer than twenty minutes after youāve left the bed, some sixth sense to the lack of your presence. heās like that always, whether youāre out with friends or enjoying a casual day at home ā mina likes to call it his lovesickness, as if he actually grows ill the longer youāre apart. silly.
still, not ten minutes after youāve left him you can hear the bedroom door creaking, the sound of the bathroom faucet. then itās a few curious steps here and there, heavier than usual from his clear exhaustion, until he finally finds you in the kitchen. heās sleep rumpled and adorable, looking every bit as tired as you know he is. you canāt even pretend to be annoyed when you meet his eyes, knowing your ābreakfast in bedā plan was never going to work ā more a fleeting fantasy, but you can adapt. instead you hold out your arms for him, letting him find comfort with his face buried in your neck, muffling whatever heās saying into your skin. you let him go after a moment so you can hear him properly, fixing his bangs with gentle care ā a motion youāve done a million times and will a million more, just for the way he melts into your hand.
āgood morning, love,ā he manages after a long moment, catching your wrist gently before you can pull your hand away, dropping featherlight kisses to your knuckles. āwould you like help ?ā his voice is sleep-worn and soft, a low quiet rumble that lingers in the peaceful little bubble youāre both sharing. his eyes trail from your face to the counter, eyeing the ingredients laid out; simple, an easy but comforting breakfast. for a moment you almost nod, more focused on the gentle affections heās layering over your skin ā little pinprick kisses over your fingers, your palm, the pulse point over your wrist. but youāre not so easily swayed, and you reaffirm yourself for a moment; youāve got defenses, immunity to a sleepy and warm shouto that looks at you with so much love you think youāll burst. no, you donāt.
ānot this morning, young man. youāre going to sit your very handsome self down on the couch and relax. this weekend is all about relaxing,ā you inform him playfully, finally taking your hand back from his onslaught of kisses. he looks put out for a moment, tracking your movements slowly, a half beat too late. āand donāt try to tell me you donāt need to relax ā breaks are important for everyone, especially pro heros,ā you scold playfully, even if your tone is nothing but sticky-sweet fondness. one eyebrow raises at you, as if about to challenge that statement with some quietly murmured statistic ā one midoriya had no doubt supplied him with, and as much as you love to hear shouto talk, youāre not having it today.
carefully, you cup his face in your hands, pull him in close; the gentle act has him leaning in without question, always weak for the gentleness of your hands, the easy affection that follows. you press kisses to his forehead, his nose, both cheeks, even his chin with a soft giggle, before finally pressing one to his mouth, a reassuring one. all your distracting little kisses have allowed you to back him out of the kitchen slowly, until you gently push him to sit on the couch, tucking a blanket over him far too pleased. you might not have any defenses or immunity against shouto, but he didnāt have any against you either, and youāre smug about it. ājust rest, please ? afterwards we can do something nice together ā maybe read a little,ā you say softly, coaxing him into leaning back against the cushions. heās got that pout on, the one youāre so terribly weak for, but youāre holding strong, the need to take care of him stronger than your desire to melt to his every whim.
thankfully, he seems to acquiesce; the pout faintly lining his features shifts, molds into that familiar fondness youāre so used to seeing when he gives in to your wishes. if youāre bad at saying no to him, heās nearly incapable of saying no to you, and he easily lets you bully him into laying back onto the couch, all joss former resolve weakening in an instant. āi suppose that sounds ⦠nice,ā he admits, although youāre a little suspicious heās laughing at you behind that quiet acceptance. āi will wait here then, and ignore any sounds of distress.ā you squawk a little at his teasing, a light swat to his chest even if youāre giggling ā that bratty youngest child mentality will never leave him it seems, always slipping out when you least expect it.
āiām perfectly capable of making you breakfast, you know,ā you protest, carefully tucking the blanket around him, and for a moment thereās a teasing smile resting at the corners of his mouth. āi know. i meant from the pans,ā he says solemnly, and earns himself another swat for his troubles. itās true that occasionally ā occasionally ! ā youāre known to be a little chaotic in the kitchen, but youāve improved a lot in the past two years, and his teasing is mostly unwarranted. ājust for that, iām burning the edges of your eggs,ā you huff, even if you both know youād never.
even from the kitchen, you know heās watching you; every move you make is tracked, monitored, and with you chance a peek over your shoulder you can see him on the couch, siren eyes keeping close watch of you. āyouāre supposed to be resting,ā you remind him, but itās sweet the way he canāt seem to look away. āi have not moved,ā comes his pouting reply, although he pauses. āconsiderably.ā heās on his stomach now, one arm tucked beneath a couch pillow, just his eyes and the unruly mop of bedhead peeking out from the armrest of the couch. still, you take it as a sign to hurry up ā any more restlessness from him and heāll get up, and you canāt have that.
returning with two steaming plates stacked high, you nudge him with your knee so heāll make space, settling yourself comfortably in his lap as he takes one of them with drowsy eyed interest. itās not the fanciest, but itās comforting, warm to offset the chill of rain just outside the window. āhave you decided on a book ?ā you ask softly after a few minutes, breaking the cozy silence with a tilt of your head towards the shelves. heās quiet, finishing off the last of his breakfast as he looks between the shelves and you, setting his plate down on the coffee table before gently taking yours as well. then heās slotting his ankles over yours and twisting, ignoring your startled yelp as he flips your positions, burying his head against your chest. āno,ā he says simply, but thereās an undercurrent of smugness to the muffled words. his eyes peer up at you, pleased with himself despite your exasperated expression.
āam i not meant to be resting ?ā he asks, smug in the fact that heās getting his way, that heās turned the tables. āthis is how i shall rest. you make a fine pillow.ā in a way, heās still falling for your plan ā relaxing, catching up on much needed rest. heās just doing it on his own terms, and you can begrudgingly admit that this is better than him trying to sneak off to the agency. āfine, fine,ā you giggle, carefully brushing his hair back from his forehead. āwhatever makes you happy, sho.ā he hums, letting his eyes close, and for a moment you think heās drifting off to sleep already. the rain pours steadily, and you canāt deny how comfortable you are either, so you close your eyes as well, let the lazy warmth of sleep find you too. you almost miss it, the whispered words he presses to your skin, the soft kiss he leaves against your neck as you both drift off.
hi queen, you still with us? it's been years i know but who knowsš
gestures wildly at nothing
i want to be so badly please believe me !
iāve been tiptoeing around and poking my nose in things, i miss writing badly ! particularly for bnha, i took a break from fandom but itās luring me back in ā¦. evil. i suppose iām a little anxious, a bit dusty, and frightened to my toes about writing again. but i miss it, and i think i want to try !
Just wanted to let you know that your writing always hits, giving us content no other blog gives us. That puppy love fic with bakugo? The one you said was written on a whim? I literally haven't stopped thinking about it since you posted it and has inspired me to start writing again bc its my favorite trope that is seriously underrated and I've only ever seen it in a webtoon before. The crumb you gave us kept me going for months. You're amazing <3
ā¦..not even six hours later i got an offer of a well paying full time long-term job with free room and board in queens in nyc, allowing me independence and a way to escape an abusive situation and an unhealthy environment
likes charge reblogs cast, folks, this is the good luck post
do most people on mobile tumblr know you can hold down the reblog button to fast reblog a post to your blog? you know you can reblog things with one click right? please please reblog things if you enjoy them, lack of exposure is killing content creators on this siteĀ
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