Sorry I've been busy.
Continuation of the shoto x reader from last time
Todoroki
present
I should be waking in my chair again. Y/n came home with me last night I believe, although if I'm being honest, last night is more than a tad blurred by my own stupidity.
You know you're old when you sit up in your bed still in pants and socks with your shirt half way undone feeling like you got hit by a bus.
How did I even end up here? Light peeks through the curtains, nothing but the top sheet falling to my hips. The chair is empty, the left side of the bed undisturbed. I brush my hand over my forehead, trying to remember more than the flashy pictured recollections of last night.
Mostly, I remember wanting. Wanting to hurt who'd hurt Y/n, wanting to run, wanting to breathe and laugh and go on adventures, and wanting Y/n most of all. It's been less than a week and already this woman has me wrapped around her finger. Because if we're being honest here, I'm completely sober and still all I can think about is where the hell she is.
God. Uncertainty is crushing.
Standing up hurts more than I thought it would, walking down the stairs even more so. There's a certain heat in the air, the smell of something cooking, the reverberated traits of a house full of a busy body. I know that heat. I know the voice I hear humming just down the stairs and the head of hair at the stove.
A smile can't help crooking my lips when I reach the last step. My hothead stayed the night. Sweats outfit her, that head of hair messier than usual, but the kind of messy I like she's comfortable enough to wear around me. Music plays with delicacy from the radio at the end of the counter, the pitter pattering of a canine accompanying her owner the only other life in the house.
Y/n's eyes flicker up to me as she brings two mugs to my coffee pot. A far more mischievous look graces her in the mornings than my own.
"Hi there savior complex," She announces, hands pressed against the edges of the counter, giddy smugness making her smile.
I rub my forehead, nearing the counter.
"Hello."
"Don't worry, I didn't defile you," She jokes, nodding to my open shirt as she places the pans contents into two plates. "You sort of tried to strip when I put you to bed."
I didn't assume we slept together. I know for a fact I would remember that.
Before I can reach for the plate of eggs she made, the teasing tyrant drags it away, instead placing a cup of water with a fizzy concoction pill disintegrating at the bottom.
Y/n smiles at my thinned eyes, pale complexion, and slow motions. I plop down on the stool, hair falling in my face. Lost my hair tie in last night's adventures.
"For the hangover," She whispers, her voice carrying more mocking than seduction, but somehow it seduces me more in the light of my own house than it ever did outside of it.
I scoff.
"I haven't been hungover since I was twenty."
"Welcome back to the club, reckless kid," She laughs and I throw the water back. Y/n stares at me a little longer, petting Hachi's head as the curious creature peaks over the counter with her nose. "Do you even remember any of last night?"
"I remember going to your ex's and punching him," I put out one finger to count.
"Mhm," Y/n hums.
"I remember us drinking in my office."
