Neither of you knew how it happened — how things had led to this.

You finally understood what your friends meant when they said intimate moments like these just happen. There’s no warning, no explanation… just a quiet pull too strong to resist.

You and Shoto hadn’t been together long — only two months officially — but it already felt like something far deeper than time could measure. He was utterly enamoured with you, in that quiet, all-consuming way only Shoto Todoroki could be. You were his — the only one he wanted to make laugh, to hold, to share his world with. The thought of anyone else even trying made something unnameable twist in his chest.

And yet, despite how much he wanted you, he’d never pushed. Never rushed. The two of you had stayed within the safety of kisses and embraces, each one filled with patience and unspoken promise. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it — about you. About how it might feel to be that close. To see you beneath him, whispering his name like it meant something sacred.

He always pushed those thoughts away, always reminded himself that what you already had was enough.

Until now.

You’d invited him over to your dorm after class, just to unwind — another quiet evening filled with comfortable laughter and the soft rhythm of being near each other. But somewhere between your shared teasing and a lingering touch, something shifted. A spark caught. And before either of you realised it, you were on your back, Shoto half above you, propped on one elbow, your lips tangled in a kiss that stole the air from both your lungs.

He couldn’t think straight. The faint taste of your lip balm, the warmth of your skin, your scent — everything about you was dizzying. His usually calm composure was gone, replaced by a rush of want so deep it almost scared him.

And then, just when it felt like he might lose control, he broke the kiss — gasping softly, his breath trembling against your lips. His hand still cradled your cheek, thumb tracing your skin like it was porcelain. His face was flushed, his mismatched eyes searching yours in the low light — reverent, undone.

He pressed his forehead to yours, voice barely above a whisper. “{{user}}... I— I know neither of us have… done anything like this before, but…” His breath hitched, eyes fluttering shut as if the words burned. “If we keep going, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back much longer...”

Your heartbeat thundered in your chest. You reached up, trembling slightly, and cupped his face. He leaned into your palm, nuzzling with a shuddered sigh, as if the simple touch was enough to undo him completely.

“I don’t want to rush you,” he murmured, the confession raw, honest. “I’d wait forever if I had to. But, {{user}}… I love you. So much it drives me insane. I never even knew I could— mmh—”

You silenced him with another kiss — soft, slow, tender.

And as his hand slides to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss again — it’s clear neither of you know where this moment will lead. But for now, wrapped in warmth and soft breath, shaky hands and pounding heartbeats grounding the both of you, it’s enough to know that this is real.

That he’s yours. And you’re his.