#Shouto Imagines

[quitesins]

It’s Gettin’ Sticky!

Masterlist

Tags: Sfw, Pro Hero!Shouto, Female!Reader, you can assume it’s in da same universe as The Bossman and Mr Deku yup, it’s technically a bowl n chopstick class and supposed to be private but we don’t gaf

Texts between you and your classmate at your pottery class, Shouto!

A/N: Could nawttt think of a pottery related title like I was searching pottery puns and everything and this was the only thing that felt right… also EUGHH I feel like I struggle characterising Shouto sm

[his-lune]

☾ Magnetic Pull | Todoroki Shouto ☽

A/N: Idk if I like this but here it is 😭 if you'd like a second part to this, please let me know 🩷 requests are open, but please check out the requirements before requesting. Happy reading!

Pairing: Todoroki Shouto x Fem Reader

Word Count: 870

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Nothing that I can think of.

Shouto’s eyebrows were furrowed, looking deep in thought as he stared at his desk. The noises around him were blocked out as he thought about only one thing: you. He was so lost in his mind, that he didn’t even notice Izuku repeatedly calling his name. 

“-roki! Todoroki!” Izuku’s voice paired with his hand waving finally broke Shouto out of his thoughts. The half-red half-white haired male trailed his gaze to where you were standing with Momo and Mina.

“I can’t keep myself away from her, and I always have her on my mind,” Shouto mumbled to Izuku as he continued to stare at the way you laughed with the other girls. “I think she has some kind of magnetic force that pulls me into her. Do you think it’s part of her quirk?”

Izuku could feel himself sweating at Shouto’s words. “Magnetic force? It can’t be part of her quirk, I’ve known her since we were children. She’s never shown this part if it is part of her quirk. Then again, I guess it could make sense? But, no because…” Izuku trailed off into his mumbled rambling, face scrunching as he debated whether or not you had a secret ability of your quirk. Wondering why you never told him, if that were the case. 

“Todoroki,” Iida said, curt voice cutting off Izuku’s rambling, “I believe that’s called attraction, and I think you’re in love with her.” He nodded after he finished talking and walked back to his desk to prepare for the next class. 

Shouto tilted his head as he finally tore his eyes off of your form, turning to talk to Izuku. “Attraction…? Midoriya-san, do you think I’m in love with Y/n?” His deadpan stare caused Izuku to stare at him with a slight guilty expression. 

“Well, Todoroki…” Izuku started, nervously glancing at you before continuing, “Yes…?” Noticing the confused expression on the half-and-half boy’s face, he quickly waved his hands. “It’s just, you’re always wanting to be near her. Even when we’re just walking to Ground Beta. Plus, you’re always staring at her with a soft look, wanting to be her sparring partner, sitting next to her at lunch, buying her lunch…” 

Izuku trailed off once more at the panicked look on his friend’s face. Before the green-haired boy could say anything else, he’s interrupted by your presence.

“Hey, guys! What are you two being so secretive about?” Your tone was teasing, a grin on your face. The sight of you caused Shouto’s cheeks to redden, the feeling making his eyes widen with shock. Using his quirk, he quickly cooled down his burning cheeks before you could notice. 

Izuku nervously grinned at you, voice rising with nerves, “Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Just talking about the new All Might figurine!” Your childhood best friend pulled out his phone and shoved the screen in your face. “Have you seen it? It looks so cool! Haha…” His sentence trailed off as you stared at him with a raised eyebrow with crossed arms. You knew he was lying. 

“L/n, do you have a part of your quirk that pulls people’s attention to you?” Shouto tilted his head as he asked you out right. He ignored Izuku’s frantic hand movements that signaled him to shut up. 

You looked between the two before humming and uncrossing your arms. “What do you mean by that, Todoroki?” You asked him as you took a seat at the desk next to his. Having your attention locked on him, and only him, caused his heart to race a little. He always wants your attention solely on him. Maybe Iida was correct… 

“Well,” Shouto started to say, thinking there was nothing wrong with being honest, “Every time I think of you, or even see you, my stomach feels all tingly. My hands also sweat, which is weird since my right side is always cool.” His eyebrows furrowed as he thought of how strange the feelings you made him feel were. “Oh, and I always find myself thinking about you.” 

The sincerity in his words, and the way he gazed at you with tender eyes caused your face to burn. “O-oh. Um, no. Attraction isn’t part of my quirk.” You cleared your throat as you fiddled with your fingers, not knowing what to say. You’ve had a crush on the dual-quirk user ever since the two of you went against each other in the Sport’s Festival. 

“Hm, interesting,” Shouto mumbled to himself, gaze set on his desk as he tried to think of another reason why he would feel that way. Izuku just watched with disbelief at the guts the Todoroki boy had for just blurting his feelings to you.

Aizawa stood up in his bright, yellow sleeping bag. His voice was groggy as he spoke, “Alright, class. Get back to your seats. The lesson is about to begin.”

“Talk to you later, Todoroki,” You shyly smiled at him, giving a small wave as you made your way back to your assigned seat. The smile on your face caused his heart to race and that tingly feeling to erupt in his stomach once more. During the whole lesson, the two of you couldn’t stop thinking of the other.

©his-lune 2024 ;; don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms.

[tired-teacher-blog]

Is it fair that I haven't written anything Shouto related in months– even though he's one of my absolute favorites? No, no it's not, so here is a little silly something to make up for it.

It's one of those chilly nights..

The falling snow is moving in rhyme with the playful wind outdoors, tapping on the giant glass of your living room window before succumbing downward to join the beautiful cottony carpet that's covering the roads outside.

You sigh contentedly and shift your eyes from the mesmerizing sight to focus on the heavenly one right before your nose.

_ "Isn't this amazing?" your whispered words pierce the quiet atmosphere surrounding you, but they don't seem to startle the man laying on top of your relaxed form.

_ "It is, I don't even want to move at all." and you can faintly sense the curve of his lips against your neck as he breathes the reply.

_ "We don't have to, we can sleep here if you want." your fingers move through his soft bicolor hair, brushing it away from his handsome face.

You bite down on your lip to stifle a giggle when you realize how impractical your suggestion is, because as big and comfortable as it is, this poor sofa was not made to contain your boyfriend's giant stature, though he doesn't seem to share your concern as he humms in agreement before nuzzling you deeper.

You gently caress his broad shoulders and back, relishing the feeling of his flexing muscles beneath your touch as he hugs you tighter.

His fair skin is concealed under a long sleeve cotton shirt, but you are aware -more than anyone else- of every single cut, burn and scar he has acquired over the years of being a hero, after all, you've always been the one treating his injuries after every single mission.

You kiss the top of his head affectionately, once, twice, thrice, and a couple more times because you simply cannot get enough of this man, your man.

He's big and heavy, almost knocking the air out of your lungs while trapping you beneath his weight, but you don't mind it at all, there is nowhere else you would rather be but right here with him, tucked away from everyone else.

It's a simple thought and a simpler wish, and the breathy laughter it has brought out of you is hard to miss.

_ "What's going on?" he props his chin against your chest and looks up at you with curious mismatched irises, though an adorable grin has already found its way to his lips as he anticipated your response.

_ "It's nothing, I'm just thinking how lucky I am to have you."

He is caught off guard by your words, and the wide blinky eyes staring back at you are proof of that.

He is cute, always has been to you, especially when as lost as he is right now, stirring you up to the point where you cannot help but cradle his cheeks and bring his lips to yours in a tender kiss.

_ "I love you, you know that?" he murmurs huskily before leaning back a bit to gaze into your eyes.

The warmth of his words is spreading throughout your body to leave a blissful tingle behind, and your fingertips are tracing his handsome features to linger over the burn scar surrounding his left eye.

You smile widely as you recall the first time you kissed him there, right on the mark reaching halfway down his cheek.

Back then, he was as surprised with your action as he is tonight with your random confession, but he didn't hate the feeling of your soft lips on his scarred skin one bit, in fact, it was the salve he didn't even know he needed.

_ "I love you too, Shouto."

[shotorozu]

pretend boyfriend

(i use guardian because idk there was this one time i used “mom” in a though unrelated n old draft and i showed it to someone and they replied with “i don’t have a mom” 😧)

note(s): also this totally wasn’t inspired by something that happened to me some time ago 😭 and this upload is late so IGNORE that it’s no longer february (actually, for 10 days now) and focus on how i’m early for white day— basically a day in japan in which guys give chocolate to their crush or partner instead of girls giving chocolates to guys (which happens on valentines day) white day is on march 14 btw

»»————-　♡　————-««

you realize your sad plan for your single, partner-less white day— an extension of valentines day, backfired on you when your guardian asks you about a boyfriend upon your usual visit from school.

“what?” you question, sounding unbelieving of the question, like it was a collection of meaningless words. “i don’t have a boyfriend—”

“the chocolates say otherwise,” they point out, interested in the heart shaped box of sweets. “can i see a picture? i need to know if they’re good for you!”

what an… interesting way to determine who’s good for you. “there’s no boy— no one, trust me.” you insist, sounding a little more panicked than you would’ve liked— and this only fueled her suspicion.

“there has to be someone, you’re beautiful!” they insist. you would’ve felt complimented if it weren’t for the context of it all, and also the fact that they’re just talking about physicality “really, who gave it to you?”

you’re hesitant to say that you actually bought them yourself, not just to replicate the experience of having a significant other, (now that you’ve realized how hard you’ve been pining over someone incredibly unattainable)

but also because you couldn’t resist the contents of the box.

sure, you were given other pieces of chocolate and sweets from your classmates even some of the girls! (which wasn’t common to see on white day of all days) and a suspiciously expensive looking cupcake box landed on your table too.

(you didn’t eat it, you just couldn’t accept the fact that it wasn’t actually decor, until you went to eat lunch and smelled the thing.)

but those chocolates were obviously obligatory, considering the context of white day. besides, the box you bought was different— it had all your favorite flavors and it was from your favorite sweets brand. you just couldn’t help but tear a small portion of your allowance out of your wallet for this treat alone.

you don’t know what your guardian would say— they’d either insist that you’re lying, or they’d make fun of you, and none of these options sound appealing.

you deflate, not having a good defense. “… a friend.”

they don’t seem convinced. nobody used a friend to refer to their actual friend. you mentally beat yourself over this simple mistake.

this only proves their point, “hmm, okay..”

there’s a beat of silence.

“i’m still expecting a picture.”

your heart rate picks up, and you can feel your veins be filled with anxiety.

and now you’re returning to the dorms, absolutely mortified— and it clearly shows on your face based on how your best friend, todoroki shouto, approaches you at the front door with a concerned look.

“you look.. distressed.” he notes out loud, as he opens the door.

shouto’s quick to help you get your shoes off, letting you lean on him as you undo your shoelaces. he pulls off each shoe afterwards— the action so casual.

“it’s because i am, shouto!” you exclaimed, following him in. “i did something stupid and now i’m paying the consequences of my actions!”

shouto’s two toned brows furrow, there’s a deep look settled on his pretty face— and he draws all his focus on you. “whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“i’m sure but, my ego! my dignity!” you groan, and your hands cover your face as if it’ll burrow you away from the embarrassment and transport you to a place of peace.

“i won’t laugh,” he says, an indirect way of saying that he won’t absolutely clown you for any of your decision making skills.

shouto then holds his pinkie up, waiting for you to take it. it’s a clear show that he’s intent. “promise.”

“sure,” you say as you link pinkies, the warmth of his pinkie making embarrassment creep up your neck instantly. “i trust you.”

you breathe in as preparation. “i bought chocolates for myself and my guardian thinks i have a boyfriend and is asking for a picture, so now i’m screwed because i don’t have a boyfriend in the first place, and i’ve told them that i don’t but they just don’t believe me, so i might have to get a fake boyfriend for a picture!”

all of it just spilled out at once. you aren’t even sure if shouto understood, let alone was able to comprehend all of it due to the lack of reaction.

but when you carefully examine— you realize that a reaction slowly shows on his face, like it just dawned on him the information you’ve dumped.

“fake boyfriend.” he echoes, “for a picture.”

“yes!” you groan, mortified of the other possible solution of the matter being slapped in your face again, “and they need to be tall, handsome, and apparently someone that looks rich— don’t know how a picture can prove that, we don’t even have jobs.”

“anyway, they’ll just criticize me for my choice in people.” you sigh, “i’m lost.”

he folds his arms together, and he unintentionally flexes. your eyes follow the movement for a short second before you realize that you cannot be caught gawking at someone you’ve met when you were both five. “it appears you are quite in a situation.”

“yeah..”

“if only there was someone available to help.”

“yeah—”

“someone close to you.”

“i figured— it’d be awkward to ask someone who i’m not really close with to be my fake…” you trail off, brows furrowing when you realize there might be some insinuation in his words. you can’t tell what he is necessarily eluding to— but,

you take a good look at shouto— an very good look. you size him up, and he allows this as he is basically standing politely. there’s a fixed look of stillness in every aspect of his expression, and he’s calm when he speaks,

“i could play the role.” he suggests like he doesn’t understand the weight of his words, or he doesn’t care that much about it.

you can feel your heart in your throat all of a sudden, and the beat of it is becoming painfully loud.

“shouto,” you somehow manage to get out, “they know who you are.”

your deep rooted history together as close friends would be seen as a plus point, if it weren’t for the fact that you’ve refrained from showing (let alone hinting) any sign of your feelings for him. shouto did the same, except you are absolutely sure he doesn’t want anything more than platonic with you— as he has displayed no such signs.

the sudden shift of events would raise more questions instead of just solving one.

besides, who doesn’t know him nowadays? he’s tall, good looking, strapped with money and a multipurpose and hella useful quirk. heck— his appearance during the sports festival was a huge thing and has definitely made a positive mark on his reputation.

additionally, it was hard for your guardian to miss someone with an alluring presence like shouto’s, and a head full of naturally snow-like, and flaming red hair.

you think carefully before coming up with something easy. “what if i just asked one of the girls to wear an oversized hoodie; and stand on a stool? i’d crop out their face, of course. kyouka or yaomomo could—”

before you were allowed to finish your thought, shouto continued to press on his idea. “i’d be the most preferable, since the backstory makes the most sense.”

you pause. you’ve never thought of an actual backstory for you too, and you couldn’t quite indulge in the self blame— you didn’t think he’d agree at all.

“childhood friends turned best friends, and with a bond that drew us together.” his gaze fleets somewhere below your eyes, and then he draws them back up— a small boyish grin now blessing his face. “besides, you’d be in quite some trouble if they asked for a picture of their face.”

oh, that description sounded way too close to home, so much that you forgot. now that shouto mentioned one, that solution does seem to have its loop holes.

“touché.” the lengths he’d do for you is admirable, and your heart would’ve stuttered if it weren’t for the dull reminder from the back of your mind, of what it’s really like between the two of you.

“so uhm, what now? do you want to take the picture right later or—”

“now would be good.”

“oh uh, okay then…” shouto never wastes time, even when it came to unimportant stuff it seems, and he watches as you shift around to find your phone.

getting your phone is something that never takes any time, but with everything being taken account for, your hands are starting to feel like jelly.

after opening your camera app and switching to selfie mode, you position your phone carefully. not just like a photographer that was about to capture a rare wild animal laying still, but also similarly to how people take pictures with celebrities.

you are cautious of the angle. although you’ve almost seen every single expression that he could make— you’re worried how you could make everything look good, make him look phenomenal. (although it seems impossible to make him look anything but)

you end up snapping a photo that’s majorly of him, and the only show of you being in the same frame was the very top of your head shoved to the corner of the screen.

the two of you stare at the photo, exchanging glances. you might think that this is enough, considering that this photo of shouto is nowhere on the internet. so— plus one for authenticity, sorta.

he’s not your real boyfriend, but your guardian won’t know that from looking at the picture.

“let’s do a retake.”

you nearly stumble, like his words were a gust of strong wind. “huh?”

“this photo.. doesn’t seem authentic. i wouldn’t know what it’d be like to be in a relationship but the couples on television look— different. don’t you think?”

you take another look at the photo. although the couples shouto is referring to are actresses and actors playing roles— he’s right for the most part. the distance between the two of you is hard to miss, nobody would be able to guess that you two were together.

not to mention, it’s more of a picture of him instead of the both of you.

“alright then,” you say in agreement. “any suggestions?”

“if i may.”

“of course you may,” you encourage.

“then…” he shifts, feet moving closer to you. “if you’ll allow me.”

shouto’s hands reach out, and you’re immediately drawn to them. although unsure about his next course of action, you don’t stop him as he pulls you close— hands with contrasting temperatures maneuvering the positions to his liking.

eventually, the two of you were positioned in a way that made you encase shouto in your arms and have you turnt slightly towards the camera.

the side of your faces are pressed against each other’s, and despite trying your best to stop it, the proximity had your heart thumping against your ribcage once again.

making sure you don’t prolong the ordeal more than you need to— you snap the picture and attempt to pick yourself up afterwards.

but shouto makes no effort in detaching himself from you, relaxing in your arms as he leans against you to view the picture. you feel yourself flustering again, and you just know that he could end you one day and be blissfully unaware of how and why.

although you just took a big risk that could possibly have your feelings found out— you were just as curious as he was to see the outcome.

and you two seemed like a couple indeed.

“thoughts?” you ask in place of allowing yourself to slowly pass away on the inside. your skin feeling increasingly hot all of a sudden, and you’re confident the boy beside you has nothing to do with it this time.

“just as i suspected.” a small smile pulls at his lips, “we look good together.”

your brain buffers, “huh?—”

and then, he’s pressing his soft lips onto your cheek— pulling back as quickly as he pressed his lips onto you.

you choke on practically nothing, and you stare at him with eyes so wide they rival saucers.

and then it started to make sense, “what— are you playing me?— you’re doing all of this for a picture i didn’t even take!”

he tilts his head, confused for a moment before letting out a disapproving noise. “i… was teasing at some point, but i would never play you. i even pinkie swore.” he said, holding the same pinkie he linked with yours earlier to prove his memory.

“so why… after all this time?”

his gaze sharpens, “why not?” he states simply, “i figured just recently that.. the feelings are mutual, and that you’re interested in the way i’m interested in you.”

he clutches you, shoving himself deeper in your embrace, “besides, there was no way i’d let you ask anyone else to be your pretend boyfriend when i’m right here.”

“it would be just for a picture though.” you note, slightly amused that todoroki shouto was jealous at the idea of having a pretend boyfriend for a picture— even if said pretend boyfriend were to be one of the girls from your class.

a specific blank expression is pinned onto his face. “still.” he replies, quite dryly.

though the expression immediately melts away as he says these next words, “now then,” gorgeous, gorgeous heterochromatic eyes meeting yours in a gaze. shouto holds it, and it seems that he’s taking advantage of his effect on you. he’s quick, not to mention— observant too.

“we should take another picture, one that’s much real.”

[todoroki-waifu]

Todoroki x F! Reader

Warnings: Everyone is aged up appropriately! Mentions of alcohol and female reader.

Scenario: Drunk confessions.

Word Count: 773

Genre: Fluff

--------

"Happy birthday, Mina!" The entire class 1A was gathered at Hagakure's house, throwing a surprise party for the pink hero. It had been so long since everyone gathered together so it was nice seeing everyone at the same time. 

However, you were glad that you and Todoroki continued to see each other often even after graduating from UA. It was hard getting everyone to one location due to conflicting schedules. 

You always hung out with the half and half hero at least two or three times a week, especially on Fridays and weekends. You both would exchange texts frequently as well.

Todoroki wasn’t the only one you closely connected with after UA, but he was different. You had the biggest crush on your close friend. It was so hard to read him so you could never determine if he returned those feelings.  

Ah, if only you knew the truth.

-------------

"You okay, Todoroki-kun?" The half and half hero directs his gaze towards his green haired friend.

"Ah, yes. Sorry, I was. . .distracted." He sips on his beverage, Midoriya looking towards where Todoroki was focused on. He sees you talking with Tsuyu, Uraraka, Aoyama, and Iida, most likely catching up with the four. He looks back at his friend after hearing him sigh quietly. Todoroki had his cup to his lips becoming distracted again by your laugh.

"You haven't told her yet, have you?" Midoriya asks, fully aware of his feelings for you.

"No, not yet. I'm not sure how to approach it nor am I sure of her feelings for me." Todoroki lowers his cup, his slightly sad gaze directed downwards.

"I-I'm sure she feels the same! You two are pretty close, huh? She's not really like that with anyone else. Besides, if she wasn't that comfortable with you, she would've said something."

"I suppose."

"But no pressure, Todoroki-kun! C'mon, let's just enjoy and see what everyone else is up to." Midoriya knew how madly in love both of you were with one another. 

He had been harboring this secret for quite some time and it has been killing him. He promised both of you to not say a word but it was so awkward being in the middle. He just wanted his two friends to be happy!

---------

A couple hours have passed by and you were enjoying everyone's company despite it being a little loud. But you didn't mind. It was filled with joy, laughter, and some good music.

You and Todoroki found yourselves in the kitchen, taking a celebratory shot with the birthday girl. Once she finishes her drink, she leaves to find Hagakure and Jirou.

"Oh boy, I'm gonna need a break." Todoroki hears you say and he glances over to you, seeing your face more flushed than usual. You had both your hands on your cheeks, feeling the heat radiating off your skin. He could also feel his own face increasing in temperature, but it was more due to how cute you looked rather than the alcohol.

Your adorable pout, the blush across your face, and the cute expressions you made in reaction to something made him weak. He diverted his thoughts back to your comment, not wanting to get caught staring.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course! I'm with Todoroki, Shouto, the best person in the whole, wide world and my biggest crush!"

"E-excuse me? Crush?"

"Mhm! I love Todoroki, Shouto! He's the sweetest, kindest, and most handsomest man I know. He's also really smart and an amazing hero. I love watching him fight, but I hate it at the same time because I get really sad when he gets hurt. But he's so cool when he goes whoosh with his right arm and them bop with his other. He's just so.. so perfect!" You giggled to yourself.

"Is he now? Sounds like a good guy."

"He's the greatest! But you can't tell anyone, okay?" You held up a finger on the tip of your nose and lips, trying to enforce how important that your secret stays quiet.

"Of course not. Your secret's safe with me." He chuckles, attempting to control the smile that was trying to stretch across his entire face. He then sees you fanning yourself and immediately grabs a cold water bottle from the fridge. He opens it for you and advises you to take a sip.

Once you were hydrated and the drunken fog was fading, you realized that your thoughts had escaped from your lips. As soon as Todoroki sees a mix of horror and realization in your eyes, he quickly leans close to your ear.

"Don't worry, I heard Todoroki loves you, too.”

[holdmeclosebutdontloveme]

The sight of you wearing a white dress eases the darkness of the color.

It's a shade that paints his past and a reminder to who he really is. A hero, a son born out of a dysfunctional relationship, and a man burdened by his attempts to defy a generational cycle of abuse.

From it, Shoto never considered procreating or have a partner to be with. Despite his promises to be unlike his father, he constantly fears that he'll likely be his own type of monster.

But you never ridiculed him for such thought, let alone undermine the what-if's that backs him into a corner. You understood the magnitude of his concerns and acknowledge that the present doesn't guarantee his future.

People don't become villains overnight, after all.

You promised him your effort, your life, and if the home you two built have deteriorated to a loveless abode then you were forced to promise to leave it. With Shoto making sure you'll benefit from the separation just as much as his future children will. Regardless how assured you are that he'll never be a man that commands the world for his own selfish need. He wanted to give you an opportunity that his mother never really had.

Now, both of you finally stood at the altar. You were incredibly dazed by the lights. While Shoto was completely charmed by you in white.

[izukumidoriyashusband]

S. Todoroki,, “I’d take the world down for you”

——

Shoto Todoroki x Gn!Reader

Word count: 1k+ words

Characters mentioned: Shoto Todoroki & Izuku Midoriya + A few personal OCs.

note//: All of this is fiction and has nothing to do with the actual characters. I do not claim to own these characters or have made them. This is fiction and for personal entertainment. Thank you and enjoy. NOT PROOFREAD. I apologize for the mistakes. @izukumidoriyashusband

Edit: Don’t Repost. I have no problem with it being reblogged just don’t repost it anywhere,, please and thank you. <33

tw !! : Aged-up!! College AU, obsessive behavior, stalking, jealousy, bit of angst, manipulation, gaslighting, yandere-like mindset, good ending ??

Summary:

You and Todoroki have been dating for a few months now, but what happens when Todoroki becomes obsessed with you and everything you do? You being you, you think he’s just being clingy. But when he spots you with Izuku Midoriya, it seems like it’s more than that. What have you gotten yourself into?

“I’d burn the world down than see you with someone else.”

—

You were minding your own business, sitting next to one of your closest friends, Mr. Izuku Midoriya. The girls and sometimes the guys fight and argue over him, but he’s merely your best friend. He was there for every heartbreak, when your parents got divorced, and shit, he was there when you were kids.

Nothing has changed between you and Midoriya, even though you started dating Shoto Todoroki.

He was one of the top kids at your college.

Mr. Popular is what they call him, despite Shoto not liking most people there. Something about you had him wrapped around your finger.

You were sitting very with your gray sweatpants on and a black hoodie that belonged to Todoroki.

It had the words “Shoto Todoroki, 03” on the back, almost like a letterman’s jacket.

You and Izuku were playfully going back and forth about whose mom cooks the best food. Your hand mistakenly landed on his thigh as you bent over slightly while laughing.

Izuku’s face was coated with a faint red tint, but you didn’t catch that.

It didn’t stop Todoroki from seeing it although. He was across the room, sitting with the few friends he did make.

He noticed your hand touch his thigh, he noticed the blush, and he noticed how shy Izuku got after that.

His hands clenched until his knuckles turned white.

Todoroki got up from the seat with his friends and walked over to you. He shot Izuku a glare. The look on his face made you separate from Izuku.

“Shoto, you alright?” You look up at him, concern in your eyes as he does nothing but grab you, dragging you out of lecture hall.

“Shoto, can you slow down?” You pull away from him, snatching your wrist back.

You stumble a bit but you become stable once again. “What's your problem?”

“What’s my problem? You’re practically eye-fucking Midoriya in Lecture hall?”

“Eye-fucking?”

“You heard me.”

“Shoto, I don’t know where this is coming from but I haven’t done anything,” you huff, not understanding where this came from.

“I saw it all. The laughing, him blushing because you touched his thigh, and you pretending to be so oblivious,” He hisses at you.

It hurts your heart when he’s so aggressive with you.

“Listen, I understand you have been hurt before but I haven’t done shit to you,” you spit back at him.

Oh, how you would swallow those words.

“You haven’t? The ignoring me for Izuku. You pretend like I don’t exist.”

He has to spin this. Even though you’re always with Shoto, he knows how to make you feel bad.

“You are always with him. All you do is hurt me. Am I not good enough for you? Do you hate me?” Shoto’s voice breaks down as he looks at you. He begins to cry and your heart breaks into pieces.

“Shoto…”

“If you wanna be with him, be with him. I won’t stop you.”

Shoto walks away from you, despite your calls and begs. He leaves you there feeling broken and upset.

—

Shoto knows that you’re broken without him. Of course, he knows. He watches your every move. He watched from your window as you cried into your pillow. He recorded your phone calls in the school courtyard with your best friend about how much you miss him.

Hearing you suffer over him makes his heart pound.

‘They love me so much..,’ he thinks to himself.

Shoto Todoroki has stolen clothes from your dorm, pens that you have chewed on, and even coffee cups you had drank out of and thrown away. He misses you and your scent.

One day, Shoto heads to your dorm. He knocks very lightly as you open it.

Your eyes hung low, puffy from crying.

Your hair was a mess.

You were wearing his shirt and a pair of shorts.

‘They’ll never stop loving me.’

“Can I come in?” Shoto speaks quietly as you look at him with tired eyes, stepping aside for him to walk inside. He takes his shoes off at the door and then comes inside. He uses his foot to kick the door shut behind him.

You were always a clean freak but your dorm didn’t look so clean today. Frankly, it looked like a pig sty.

“Listen-”

“Listen-”

You both started, sharing a chuckle together. Shoto lets you go first.

You take a deep breath, “Shoto. I have loved you for so long and I would never dare to look at anyone the way I look at you. Never. You are someone I see myself spending my life with and..” Your voice breaks down mid-sentence, tears welling up in your eyes.

“And I will always love you.”

Shoto smiles brightly and opens his arms for you.

You readily jump into his arms, hugging him tightly.

‘Y/N smells so good.’

“I’m so glad you understand. You hurt me so bad. Please never do it again.”

“I won’t. God, I won’t.” You repeat over and over as you think to yourself.

‘I am so glad to have him.’ Your face was buried in his neck, you missed the complete smug look on his face.

‘What an idiot.’ Shoto thinks to himself, holding you tighter.

“I’d burn the world down than see you with someone else.” He whispers into your ear.

edit: Forgot to mention the Ocs.

[inumkii]

that wasn't me!!

kaminari, midoriya, bakugou, shouto, sero, dabi, iida x reader (individual)

his friends are sick of his endless pining and ask you out on his phone. someone has to make a move, can you really blame them?

notes: i was really trying to make it so i didn't default denki being the one who steals their phones bc his ass would be most likely to pull that shit. i like the idea of katsuki getting so fed up with izuku/iida talking about you + doesnt get why they havent made a move so he does it for them forcefully. like here. damn.

[nepenthendline]

the not-so-good parts about dating them

a/n: I am nothing if not a red flag lover

includes: midoriya, todokori, bakugo, shinsou, kirishima, kaminari, iida, hawks, aizawa

Midoriya -

Midoriya's priority list is '1. everyone' so, sometimes, it's difficult to feel special in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't see you as a top priority, he just often lets himself get caught up with other people and dealing with their problems so you don't get his undivided attention all that often. He doesn't mean to do it at all, but he has missed dates before because he was staying late at work to help his students or got stuck helping out a friend.

Bakugo -

🤨 Aside from his obvious anger issues, Bakugo often struggles to see you as a team and not just individuals. Whenever you argue, he often sees it as a 'me vs you' and not a 'us vs the problem', and he sometimes makes big decisions without talking to you first. He feels like he has to be better than you because he needs to be a provider and a protector, so he tackles issues on his own instead of talking to you and working things through as a team.

Todoroki -

Todokori has no reference to what a 'healthy' relationship looks like, and it terrifies him. All he knows is what, or who, he doesn't want to end up like, and it stops him from taking initiative in your relationship because he's scared of doing the wrong thing. He knows he's not like his father, but he still worries that he's going to end up like him anyway, as if it's fated. Because of this, things move incredibly slowly, and it can be hard to tell that he does love you since he doesn't often make moves or use words to show you. He knows he wants, and needs, to improve though, he just needs some guidance.

Kaminari -

Kaminari struggles with self-sabotage in your relationship - he convinces himself that he's not good enough for you or that he's making your life worse by being with you, and can push you away, cancel dates late minute or act like he doesn't need you. These actions never last long before he snaps out of it, and you're well aware by now of what's going on in his head when he starts acting like this, but he's always convinced he's going to fuck this up. And sometimes, he believes it so much that he does. The guilt eats away at him daily.

Kirishima -

(Absolutely nothing) Kirishima hates showing you when he's feeling down, weak, or 'unmanly'. He bottles up a lot of his negative emotions and thoughts away from you and they gnaw away at him. Its not that he feels like he can't talk to you, in fact sometimes he lets things slip because he feels so comfortable around you, but quickly tries to put a positive spin on his words so that you don't worry. It's more that he feels he shouldn't, and that you have enough things to deal with as it is. He wants to be a safe space for you, so dealing with his emotions is out of the question. He never blows up at you because things get too far though, you just wish he could rely on you more.

Iida -

For the first while in your relationship, it almost felt like you lost your friendship with Iida. The lines between being friends and being a partner were extremely defined to Iida for some time, and he felt that every interaction between the two of you had to be so formally-relationshipy - this meant things such as only spending time with you on pre-scheduled dates, affection felt like ticking boxes on what was 'meant' to come next in a relationship, or not letting you see his deeper, darker times. Things do get better after some time and conversations, but it kinda felt like the first year of your relationship didn't really count.

Shinsou -

Shinsou feels like being with you is the most selfish act someone has ever committed. Sometimes he even thinks that, somehow in a way he doesn't know, he's forcing you to be with him. He feels like you can do so much better than him, but he loves you too much to let you go (not that you would anyway). He thinks that he doesnt treat you as well as you deserve and so he goes overboard to 'make things up to you', when in reality he's the most caring, selfless person you've met. He often brings up the idea of you finding someone else, or that you can cheat on him and he'll stay if that makes you happy, and it breaks your heart every time.

Aizawa -

Aizawa feels like everyone he truly lets in, he has lost, and he is terrified that's going to happen to you. So, he tries to keep his feelings and thoughts for you as surface-level as possible. The problem is that he's terrible at doing that - he has such a big heart and he wants you in every way imaginable, which creates a lot of inner conflict for him. One minute he's telling you everything weighing on his mind and letting himself fall deeper into you, and the next he's keeping you at arms length. He's scared to admit that he relies on you or that he needs you, but he does it anyway and it tears him apart inside.

Hawks -

He lies to you more times that he would like to admit. Well, it's more that he's very good about skirting around a question or situation rather than telling you the truth. There's some things in his life, his past, or his thoughts that he feels are best not being part of your life, and so he will tell you little lies and make adjustments to the truth to fit a narrative that he prefers. He wants to protect you from any negativity or darkness that he can - he knows what going through that feels like and he does not want you to have to feel that too, but mostly, and most selfishly, he's terrified of you thinking he's a bad person because of some actions he's had to take. It can be almost impossible to tell when he's lying or telling the truth because he's extremely open and upfront with other topics.

[revasserium]

soooo thinking about pro!hero shouto being waylaid in the street by a tiny cute girl scrabbling for his autograph, and he's still a bit bewildered by this whole fame thing but he tries his best -- so he bends down to ask her what he'd like signed, only to hear your voice, to look up and see you, just about the prettiest creature he'd ever laid eyes on, running up to the little girl and scooping her up into your arms before bowing and saying --

"i'm so sorry! she just ran off -- you can't do that, mia-chan! your mama will kill me of something happens to you!" before turning back to him with a pleading sort of smile and just, "sorry again -- she's my cousin's daughter -- i promise she doesn't mean to bother -- she's just such a huge fan --"

but he can't help noticing the glow in your cheeks and can't stop himself from wondering if you're a fan too. and what he'd do if you said yes.

"not a bother," he smiles, "it's just part of the job." he looks at the girl now, extending a hand, "thanks for being my fan -- what would you like signed?"

"no really -- you don't have to --" you say, but shouto reaches for a pen all the same.

"no, it's okay. i want to."

so he signs the little girl's handkerchief, and feels his chest go warm at the way she presses it to her chest, grinning wide enough to split the sky. it's only then that she looks back at him with curious, wide eyes and asks --

"aren't you going to sign anything for big sister? she's your big fan too!"

"mia!" you go just about the most darling shade of red, looking anywhere but at shouto; he clears his throat, licking his lips.

"i... i don't mind... if you'd like something --"

"no, please -- we've bothered you enough."

"can she have your number?" mia asks, now positively devious as she looks between him and you, "it was her new years wish when we did our first temple visit --"

"mia! that's enough -- i'm sorry, we'll just go --"

"here." he scribbles down his number and presses it into your hand with a bright blush of his own. and now he's the one who can't look at you, "you don't have to do anything with it -- if you don't want to. but if you do..."

"i -- i do! i just --" you glance back down at mia, grinning smugly in your arms.

"then... you can call me later. or text. whichever." he takes a few steps back, swallowing passed the heartbeat now thundering in the back of his throat.

"yeah. sure -- i will! i mean -- only if you don't mind."

"i don't. really."

"okay."

"okay then. see you."

"yeah... see you... soon."

"yeah. soon."

[sugarwarachan]

mornings with shouto - mdni

is this a format yall would want more of? bakugou here. domesticity kink going brrrrr

nothing makes shouto todoroki happier than lazy, sleepy mornings with you. seeing you enveloped in his sheets after he wrenched orgasm after orgasm from you the night before makes his heart practically ache it feels so good

he’s already an early riser, but he makes it a goal to wake up before you anyway. he likes being the only person to see you like this, sleeping so soundly your cheeks have creases from the pillowcase. smoothes back your hair and kisses your forehad before padding off to the kitchen to watch YouTube tutorials on how to make pancakes

wakes you up with a full breakfast platter and a soft, “morning, love” before pulling back the covers and settling in beside you. is actually the clingiest man alive and cannot fathom why you wouldn’t want to be pressed skin-to-skin whenever the chance presents itself

uses the back of his thumb to capture syrup on your lip, groans into your mouth when you swirl your tongue around the digit

“sweetheart,” he laughs, hand on the back of your neck, tugging you closer, “i’m supposed to be feeding you breakfast,” before covering your mouth with his

lays down and drags your hips up to his face, “time for my breakfast, sweet girl” nosing your clit and licking through your folds with a desperate, drawn-out groan

pushes your pajama top up to play with your tits while you cum on his face, lapping up your juices with a feral-like glee, “yessss, love, fucking perfect for me. keep rocking your hips like that, sweetheart, good fucking job, see how good you feel?”

puts on something soft to listen to while cleaning you up, raining down praise as he kneads your tired muscles back to life

[quitesins]

Prince!Shouto x Writer/Artist!Reader

Masterlist

Sfw, Female!Reader, Fantasy Au, random thought that I just wanted out of my head, mind the typos! Dialogue under the cut!

You’re a writer/artist, gaining quick popularity across the kingdom due to the satirical works you put out, particularly the ones where you satirise The King.

Your pieces are doing numbers. Sung in pubs, tacked to every board in town, even shoved into the arms of royal guards who can’t do anything but stand at their post and take it.

And you’re beaming, practically swimming in money and praise. You let a bit of it get to your head, suddenly dismissive of any consequences that come with mocking the royal family. Especially with your foreign pen name, feeling safe signing the end of each work while cozied up in your little house hidden away in the forest… that is until you get a knock on the door and… it’s The Prince.

[Or Shouto, crown prince, can barely hold in his laugh every time his father calls a meeting to discuss the crudely drawn pictures of him being pasted around the city. And god the first time he heard one of your poems? Being read aloud in the formal voice of one of the guards? It wasn’t just Shouto who had to excuse himself from the table, but his mother too, trailing behind him with a soft smile on her face.

He makes sure the guards keep any of the flyers that make their way into the castle, citing it as “evidence,” crucial to the investigations. Really he just takes them to his room, gleefully pinning them up. Even taking comfort in them on particularly cruel training nights.

He’s never been malicious, but when it comes to his father, he can be quite testy. Petulant for good reason. Your drawings of his father, the harsh scribbles accompanied by wretched songs, somehow he feels seen. Like the awful hate in his heart is warm and somewhere appreciated.

Shouto also thinks the way you draw his father as just a massive rectangle with two deeply furrowed brows is really funny.]

“You know…” Shouto speaks, unintentionally solemn. You prepare to be scolded on instinct. “You’ve drawn my hair on the wrong side.”

In his hand he raises the crumpled remains of one of your works. Even with the paper having seen better days, it’s undeniably yours— with it’s infamous juts of ink, harsh lines and messy splashes of colour thrown across the page. In your handwriting, there’s a vulgar poem captioning the drawing. Implying the prince to be a bastard, with a women killing smile and a surprisingly impish attitude.

Your signature printed in bright red ink probably doesn’t help your case either.

“The scar is accurate howe—”

“Give me that.” You snatch the flyer from him, crumpling it into your hand and tightening around it.

Shouto doesn’t protest, seemingly entertained by your sudden shyness. The words of [Pen Name] have been always been so crass, he had never expected you to hold such embarrassment. He doesn’t want you to, but he finds it amusing all the same.

“Look.” You don’t like his smile, it’s too soft, earnest. “If you’re here to execute me just do it!” There’s a wobble in your voice when you speak. Not from genuine fear of death, instead you sound like a sulking child. “I can’t imagine the king would send his son for any other reason..”

“Shouto,” He prompts. “I’d like it if you called me Shouto.” In the blink of an eye, in front of you is another flyer. “See.” He points to the picture of him, his name written in massive letters underneath.

“How many do you have,” You groan, snatching the paper from him again. His little disappointed pout feels like a win, it must have been his last. “Then why are you here?”

Shouto stares as if he doesn’t quite know himself. His eyes glaze over you, your cluttered room and to where you fists have finally softened in their grip. Then, like a spark alights behind his eyes, he smiles, responding with blunt determination.

“To be your friend.”

I wishhh I had the brain power to write full fics coz this au is so fun to think about… maybe if the fantasising gets too big to stay in my head I’ll write drabbles of random nonchronological scenarios, or not!

[his-lune]

☾ mha masterlists ☽

☾. class 1-a

ᯓ★ masterlist

☾. big three

ᯓ★ masterlist

☾. pro-heros

ᯓ★ masterlist

☾. villians

ᯓ★ masterlist

[tired-teacher-blog]

Cold/ Warm

Characters : Shouto/ Gender neutral reader

Genre : Fluff/ Imagines

Masterlist|Second Masterlist

Okay but imagine..

Cold..

So cold and.. and empty?

How is that even possible when you specifically remember falling into slumber with his arms around your form?

_ "Shouto.." you mumble dazedly, eyes fluttering open and frantically searching for him.

_ "I'm here love, I was in the bathroom for a moment," he hurriedly slips under the covers with you, bringing you back in his embrace before you could even mutter another word, "why are you up though?"

_ ".. was so cold without you." you whine cutely, unintentionally so, you are too sleepy to be fully aware of your surroundings anyway, but your little outburst is enough to warm up his heart.

_ "I'm sorry sweetheart but I'm back now, so just close your eyes and go back to sleep." his smile widens when you obediently do as asked, clutching onto his shirt and nuzzling his chest while murmuring a quiet "okay".

Warmth..

Blissfully addictive warmth radiating from your curled up body, a kind of warmth he never thought he craved until you showed up one day and turned his world upside down in the most incredible way..

He squeezes you tightly between his arms, as if you would disappear if he doesn't, the same radiant smile of earlier adorning his lips as he recalls the first time he had laid eyes on you.

He kisses the top of your head gently, inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo, and running his fingers through your hair as he whispers a soft "I love you" before succumbing to a peaceful slumber..

[shotorozu]

Paintings Do No Justice (Ch. 1)

Todoroki Shouto/Reader (Royal! AU)

Chapter 1 — Insult on Canvas

Tags: Romance, Drama, Royal AU, Getting Together, Painter! Reader (who is also blunt) Prince! Todoroki Shouto

Synopsis: One moment you’re mouthing off to someone about how you find the painting in front of you atrocious, and in the next— you’re sketching the same subject of the painting. How did you get here, again?

AO3

Masterlist

note(s): so yall might’ve been wondering— where was the chapter ⁉️ well one, the owl house ended so i was kinda grieving that 💀 and two— editing 😁 anyways ik this might not be EXTREMELY historically accurate, but i tried. a lot. as in, a month of vigorous research about the era went into this… anyways 😁

»»————-　♡　————-««

The estate was busier than usual, filled with clamor and poorly concealed whispers. 

When you woke up that morning and awaited your delivery of freshly new oil paints, you heard mumbles from helpers passing by outside of your door. You had tried to listen in on the mumbles when you heard any outside, but as you pressed your ear against the wooden door, the mumbling had faded to incoherence. 

Even the maid that usually kept to herself, was asking about your opinions, and when you tried to gain an elaboration— the maid in question simply sped away, tasks suddenly looking very appealing.

You never minded, but to have a certain type of mystery lingering in the air had you growing nosy. 

You tried your best to not dwell on the topic that much, instead– anticipating for someone to come knocking at your door with a case of brand new paints. You weren’t sure what was the most exciting part of them all– the fact that they’re brand new? The fact that they’re from the very center of the capital, traded by the best art supply retailer. 

You weren’t sure if it was just one of those reasons or all, but you could imagine them already. The dentless tubes, the color labels of each of them, the glide of each paint on a canvas. Your hands are already itching to test them out, find your next piece’s subject— 

Or instead of someone delivering the parcel to your room, maybe your father would loudly exclaim for your appearance. You would know what it would be for, anyway. 

You try to imagine the excitement, the craft of your art, the stroke of each brush, but it’s becoming increasingly hard to imagine something so.. Imaginable, when the muttering of each person that passed your room drew your attention. Not to mention, whatever your handmaids were speaking about earlier had you increasingly curious.  

You finally had enough of feeling left out of the hearsay– scandalous or not, pushing your chambers’ doors open and striding to the main hall, and that’s when you finally understood the commotion. 

You dart your head around, observing each and every expression of those present in the hall. 

A name was called into the air– by quick realization, your name to be exact, and you recognized the voice as your father’s. 

“Father,” You reply, arms folding atop of each other, a hand brushing against your elbow. “Is it just me or has the estate become busied with noise? Is it gossip that I was sorely excluded from knowing again?” Your father chuckles, shaking his head. Okay, if it wasn’t estate gossip, then what was bringing out the invasiveness you never knew you had? "Or.. Was I walking around insensibly like a headless chicken–”

“That’s not it, it’s just..” You wait for him to finish his sentence. He seems to be grasping for the right words– presumably, due to the difficulty of the subject? “Your paints have been delayed.” 

Your brows furrow. That was it? 

Although it seems to be a bit of a letdown– considering the extent of your anticipation, but it is no true worry as the hearsay makes it seem. “So? I am willing to wait. In fact, it is a wait I’ve been doing for years now, waiting for a significant breakthrough.” 

Your father chuckles, wrinkles prominent on the corner of his eyes. “I assure you it will happen. But the issue here is that someone will have to pick it up themselves.” 

You hum, coming to a decision. “I could do it, I have a feeling this is the result of everyone tossing the responsibility onto each other like a hot potato.”

His aging features fell as an awkward laugh suddenly emerged out of him. “Oh, I’m afraid that’s not all.” He coughs. It seems forced.  “We’ve gotten word that Prince Shouto is getting his portrait  done.” He sighs, “It has been a while since his juvenile age of fifteen. Once again, we’ve missed the opportunity to grab at the commission… like last time.”

You pause. Prince Shouto of the Todoroki family?

It was a given that you know who he was, everyone within the society of your kingdom had an idea of the third son of King Enji Todoroki. He was said to be tall, handsome, gifted, and the only eligible heir despite having three siblings years ahead of him in age. It was also rumored to be that he could conjure flames with his left, and ice with his right. 

All those things have been said about him– and it was almost ridiculous, until it dawned onto you that you haven’t seen the prince in question once. Never in your life have you been able to see if these allegations held some truth in them. 

But he is still the prince at the end of the day. It’s not like your opinion mattered to him, to anyone caring for that matter. Perhaps the responses of the trainees, interns, and the help were justified clauses after all.

Not to mention, “last time” was considerably a hard time as well, though maybe the uproar of today is due to the fact that Prince Shouto is of age, and is essentially nearing the start of his prime. The next time his portrait could possibly be done in a few decades– and of course no painter as urgent as your father could wait that long. 

“The royal family aren’t the only highly regarded clients that we could paint,” You state, “There’ll be other big names that’ll be anticipating to be painted by us.”

Your father’s features crinkle, “It is the royal family.” 

You shrug. Touché. 

“I’ll get going now.” You spin your heel, “Perhaps, calming down the masses of this estate would be good?” 

Your old man considers your words evidently, though you think this is simply a plot to get a rise out of you. Your shoulders rise like mountains and drop with a sigh– as equally visible as he “considered” things, and his charade drops with ease. “That is a good idea,” 

Without turning around, you can hear him calm down the people within the estate. 

You sort out your appearance, going through each drawer and shelf to examine the amount of various garments that you currently own. You weren’t going to be out for long, and you weren’t going to be looked at for long, so you eventually settled with something of comfort– forgoing a usual bodice in favor of a long sleeved polo with frilled trims, and a skirt with a simple but presentable silhouette. 

Snatching a messenger bag while forcing on some shoes, you walk down the hallway and out the door in a hurry– determined to beat the busy crowd of the merchandise galleria.

—

Your assumption was indeed true, but it turned out to be busier than you'd ever expect. 

Retrieving the paints was the simplest part of the intended short trip, but getting near the designated supplier showed itself to be difficult. 

There were more people in the galleria than usual, and you’d be aware of this– considering that the folk that roamed the galleria’s path frequently contained the help and the occasional artist taking initiative.

Which meant that it was quite never the ton.

Package in your clutches, you hadn’t need to look at the crowd to realize– that they were not the district’s average patrons. 

Turning a heel, you observed the high quality bodices and robes of all sorts of fabric that adorned the sophisticated. With hairstyles, hats and jewelry that decorated the elite were supremely well made, your eyes felt as if they sparkled simply by staring.

“Unveiling of “Adolescence” By Mr. Sasaki to be done in just a few! I repeat, Unveiling of Mr. Sasaki’s latest painting is to be done shortly!” 

You try not to huff at the announcement. Mr. Sasaki turned out to be the very artist your father was feuding with. Only child of a duke, he opted out of inheritance of the title in exchange for an artful life of paintings and sculptures. The choice was viewed as shameful initially, but his competence in art assisted in his favor. 

If anyone were to ask you, however– you’d say in hush that it was a result of nepotism. 

Regardless of the opinion, you remained in your place, curiosity quipped to see what aspect of this latest work made it worthy of a live elite audience. 

Then, the thin cloth that obscured the painting’s true form was lifted with the ring of a bell, and tossed to the side. 

Curiosity quickly drained out of you, and your artistic knowledge made you long for the moments before you saw the painting. 

The backdrop of the painting was simple. Considering that it is simply backdrop, it was painted a dark oak color and blended well for the viewer to not have their attention glued to what was behind the subject. 

And the subject itself was…

“Not the sight for sore eyes.”

You bit your lip before anyone could register who said it, or what was said. What you said was intended to be kept on the inside, and while the words could’ve been directed to anything, the context was unfavorable. A clear insult to the painting. 

When you clear yourself of possible suspicion, you continue your ponder– analyzing the painting, uttering barely present comments about the painting. 

Then, you hear a hum beside you– baritone, hard to shake off.  “What makes you say that?”

You try to stop your shoulders from jolting upwards from surprise, but your attempts come short. Was it directed to you? You pondered considerably, an endless amount of possible outcomes went rampant in your thoughts. 

Your heart raced– you could get into some trouble for what you’ve just said, and what you’re about to say. 

You weren’t about to retract statements, no. But boycott was possible if your unkind comment and name was unearthed to the artist himself, or even– members of the gentry.

Despite yourself– you turn to your side, and see a man dressed in a dark coat with a matching hat obscuring his hair and eyes. The features that weren’t hidden by his hat or the collar of his coat were distinctive for you to recall in a few weeks time.

He was lean– certainly not a dandy. He looked as if he was never meant to be seen just like you, as he had an air of mystery around him if you dared to make significant mention.

Well, a faceless man practically made conversation with you! “Mysterious” reflected little in description.

He must be the one who asked, his voice aligned with his appearance– and it certainly isn’t the mother in front of you, or the young child spectating the unveiling on stacked up carts. 

“Portraiture is certainly popular within recent times,” You note “But the subject… does not seem adolescence.” You end off, dryly.

There’s some silence, and you close to thinking that the conversation has ended. 

Or, perhaps– it did. You saw what you needed to see, you retrieved what was needed of you to do– you could go back to the estate and happily start on your next painting. You could quickly leave in silence, as if the comment was never made at all– 

“What do you mean by that? Must you be referring to the subject’s features?” 

The response has you thinking. The stranger’s interested in what you’re saying, which is… certainly not an everyday occurrence, but could blame be set on you for indulging? 

“No. I meant that there is a lacking quality in the subject, and I think�� overall tone of the work.” You reply, slightly more confident. “Neoclassicism is indeed, also popular these days, but for it to be observed in portraiture art such as this is.. Unfitting.” 

You’re on a tangent, but you cannot find it in yourself to care. You’re so focused that you didn’t bother to even turn to the man you’re subjecting your tangent to. “The restraint, unemotional element of the genre simply has no place in a work called… “Adolescence”, as the years of adolescence are full of inexperience, development, and are our days of youth, yes?”

“And since that is the case, you’re wondering where is that look we’d all see in the mirror during those days?” 

You chuckle. Finally, someone that gets it. “Yes.”

But your cheer makes a drastic drop when your sight is lined up with the portrait once again. Art analysis aside, how is a forehead with that width and length possible to conjure– especially on pure intention. How it wasn’t the first thing you’ve laid your eyes upon was worthy of amazement. 

“Not just that, but no real human has a forehead that big. It’s as if the subject is a pompous imbecile. Intended outcome or not, I pity whoever was the subject.” 

The stranger lets out a soft laugh that was ridden with illy concealed shock and amusement. The sound sobers you out of your analytical tangent and you only stare as he finishes. The expression that he’s left with– from what you can tell from the subtle curl of his lips– is placid, yet entertained. Though the reason behind it is unheard of… 

A loud voice cuts through your thoughts before you could say or think anything more. “Mr. Sasaki will be here to answer any queries.”

Several people raise their hand, but none of what happens in front of you distracts you from the stranger’s voice resounding against your ears. “I suppose I should’ve assumed much, once as the forehead was revealed in its full force. Mr. Sasaki was.. Especially defensive when the painting was completed.”

You only stare in question as someone in the audience inquires about the painting’s primary subject– the center of the reprehensible thing.

But the man makes no further movement to address his comment. “Could I have your name? Are you perhaps an art critic?” 

“Ah, the main inspiration as you can see– is the subject of the painting!” 

You blink. You could mutter and make ramblings about paintings and art conceptually all you pleased, but giving your name first to a stranger– a nearly faceless one– was improbable. “Only if you are able to disclose yours. And no, I’m no critic.”

“Is it not customary to answer a question with another?” The words he says are accusing, but by the tone of the unknown man’s voice– he has no intention.

“Fine.” He did have a point. Some may say that you only had care for the arts and nothing else, but an “uncaring” person such as you was also taught not to answer anything with a  question. 

“Y/N of the L/N family. I’ve spoken this much, so it’s only fair that you take your turn to speak up and slightly embarrass yourself now.”

You don’t have to look him in the eye to know that he is resisting a laugh. You can see it in the way his lips tightly shut. 

Mr. Sasaki goes on despite the intriguing conversation you find yourself within. “Everybody knows him– so it goes without saying, that it was a big honor to paint–” 

“Shouto–” 

“--Your Highness, Prince Shouto of the Todoroki Family!” 

The fact was indeed proudly stated– the best boast an artist could say.

But all you could do was stare at the portrait, and back at the man who said his name was… 

“Wait, you’re, uh…” 

And that’s when you finally get a decent look at the man– now that your attention isn’t gathered on analysis.

Under the hat– mismatched irises were hidden in plain sight, but all due to the close proximity, the silver and cerulean pigment of his eyes matched with the painting– except, the painted counterpart was less than nothing compared to what was material.

What stood in front of you– was the unmatched, unrivaled beauty of the lands.

On his left eye, he had a scar that made no appearance in the painting, as if it never existed. It was clear that the scar was excluded on purpose– seeing as the scar is a distinctive part of his face. However, now that you stood next to someone of royal lineage, you could bear witness to the scar, that was not mere hearsay of the elite’s most nosy.

Besides, the scar did nothing to deter from his aesthetic. 

“Not even the king wanted to show me the painting, and… that was– I suppose– the strangest of it all, considering the time.” 

Then it just occurred to you, what grave thing you’ve committed. 

A grave offense, worthy of the death penalty– public execution, and exile to all related to you! 

So you did the first thing that appeared in your mind. 

Shove royalty out of the way and make a book for it. 

[felinecyan]

Reality of Realizations

[Shoto Todoroki x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: After the Sports Festival, Shoto comes to realize just how awful his behavior was, and he’s determined to make things right.

WC: 3559

Category: Mega Fluff, Awkward!Shoto

This idea smacked me to my keyboard at 3 am and took me hostage until I finished it… I hope you enjoy it!! ☺��🫶

『••✎••』

In the beginning, Shoto didn’t feel guilty. He felt indifference. To him, U.A. was about succeeding his father without his father’s side of his bloodline, the fire part of his quirk. Everything was about becoming a hero that wasn't like Endeavor. Everything was about getting stronger without using fire.

Friendships weren’t his concern. In fact, he didn't give them much thought at all. He didn’t feel like they would be beneficial to his cause.

For some reason, though, you wanted to be around him. Maybe it was because you saw something in him, some type of potential that even he didn’t recognize. Or maybe you just had a lot of energy that needed to be spent, and being around him was your only means of releasing it. Either way, you never left him alone. You followed him, sat next to him in class, and asked him about his quirk.

And with his current mindset, he was rather annoyed with your persistence. He knew he could handle it himself. He could do well in school and become a great hero without any help. You were a distraction to his goal, and he was not having it.

When you first tried to start a conversation, Shoto looked straight ahead. His gaze remained fixed on the whiteboard. If you continued to be persistent, he would snap at you. It was a guarantee.

As much as he wouldn’t like to admit, sometimes the father-son resemblance would shine through.

You tried again, asking him what his favorite food was. When he didn’t answer, you shrugged and turned your head toward the window—another failed attempt.

Your attempts only increasingly became more annoying as time went on. The same questions, the same responses, and the same outcome:

An angry Todoroki who just wanted to be left alone.

But it wasn't until the Sports Festival that things changed for him. Midoriya helped him realize that his father wouldn’t define him, but his own choices would. It was enlightening, and after their fight, he felt a strong sense of respect for the green-haired boy.

And due to that awakening, he realized just how absolutely rude he had been toward you.

You were one of his classmates, a person who was in the same school as him, training to be a hero just like him. You were someone who deserved respect, and he didn’t treat you the way you should have been.

That guilt settled in.

He was a horrible person.

He had to make up for it.

And, no, a simple apology would not be enough. He needed to go the extra mile and show you that he meant what he said and that he was truly sorry.

The question was, how?

He knew little about you. He never spoke to you, not in the way you had tried speaking to him, so how would he know your favorite food, your favorite color, your favorite animal? How would he know what kind of flowers or sweets you liked?

How could he make you happy when he was the one who hurt you in the first place?

He thought long and hard. He pondered and pondered, trying to think of what you could possibly enjoy, but his mind would draw a blank.

So, he did the only thing he could think of: he asked Midoriya for help. The green-haired boy had that entire notebook dedicated to all the quirks every classmate had, so surely it could give him some insight into how to approach you.

Surely, it would help.

After class, Todoroki went over to Midoriya. He kept his hands in his pockets, and he looked the other way, not quite wanting to see Midoriya's expression.

Needless to say, he was absolutely surprised when Todoroki asked him for help. Surprised and absolutely delighted. The way he started bouncing in his seat with the biggest smile on his face made Todoroki want to reconsider the offer. But before he could retract, Midoriya already had his notebook out.

He flipped through a few pages, his finger stopping when he found your name. Honestly, it was unnerving just how many notes were dedicated to each individual.

Midoriya read your likes and dislikes; apparently, they were all through observation and not from you telling him. Maybe if Todoroki wasn’t so mean to you, then he would‘ve known what you liked, too.

He figured you had to make it obvious for Midoriya to write it down, right? There’s no way Midoriya would be able to figure out that information from just watching.

Then again, his analysis was pretty spot on. He knew what your personality was; he dealt with it firsthand. Of course, at the time, he didn't think too much about it. All he thought was how much he wanted you to leave him alone. Now, however, he wanted you to ask him those questions.

He wanted to be your friend.

He learned that you loved reading books. Not only that, but you loved flowers. Not the typical roses or sunflowers, but the less popular flowers. The type of flower that not a lot of people would think of when thinking about the beauty of a flower.

You also loved sweets, mostly anything with the word "chocolate" in the name. You had a sweet tooth, and it was very apparent.

Todoroki didn’t know why, but he found himself smiling. Finding out your likes and dislikes and learning about your personality was interesting. He wished he hadn’t been so blind before. Maybe then, he could've been friends with you earlier.

But it was okay. He could still become your friend. He could still fix things.

Midoriya had written down a list of things that you would appreciate the most, and then it was on the planning portion.

Gift-giving was still a relatively new concept for Shoto. He never had any real reason to give someone a gift before, and when he did give gifts, it was mostly for his siblings on special occasions.

He never really had the opportunity to buy a gift for a friend.

Midoriya told him that the best gifts were meaningful and came from the heart.

"Think of a memory you have with them. Think of something that they would really enjoy."

But the issue was, he had no memories with you. No good ones, anyhow. They were all trash because he never gave you the chance to have a good memory with him.

"Hey, Todoroki, if you were—"

You always sounded so genuine when asking him those foolish questions, but the moment he turned his head, his glare could have killed you.

"Do you always have to bother me? Doesn’t it get tiring asking the same things, day in and day out?" His tone was harsh, and he didn't mean for it to sound that way, but it was the only tone he ever used on you.

"No wonder your parents sent you to boarding school in America before applying here. I wouldn’t be able to deal with you either."

Yeah, those were his words. Those were his exact words. Not the nicest, were they?

The sentence was completely laced with poison, and even Shoto knew it then. He truly didn’t mean to bring that up; it was a low blow, but the damage was done, and the second it was said, your expression fell.

Shame, really. You were only trying to be nice. You didn’t deserve his spiteful attitude. You were kind and thoughtful, and you were a very good person, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept your kindness.

So, how the hell was he going to be able to apologize to you? How was he going to give you a present that meant something when all his memories of you were filled with his hate?

He sat on his bed, his legs crossed as he held his head. He needed an idea, but his mind drew a blank. What the hell was he supposed to do?

Midoriya told him that a homemade gift was probably the best among a couple of special items. If he made something himself, he could show how much effort he put into it. He could make something meaningful and show just how sorry he was.

But... he wasn't the most creative person. In fact, his creativity was nonexistent. He didn’t know the first thing about making something from scratch.

He knew how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a tasty soba, but other than that, he was lost.

And it wasn't like he could ask for his siblings' help. He took that as a sign of not owning up to his mistakes. If he couldn’t figure this out, then he didn't deserve your friendship.

His eyes were fixated on his desk. His textbooks were sprawled out, and a couple of papers were scattered across the table. He was currently studying for the next exam, and his phone was off to the side, plugged into the wall to charge.

His mind should’ve been on schoolwork, but the only thing he could think of was you. He needed an idea, and soon, because if he didn't do anything, his guilt would eat him alive.

His mind continued to wander.

Flowers, chocolate, a book, a teddy bear.

None of these would be enough. None of these were personal; none of these would mean something.

His eyes wandered from his desk to the window. The sky was orange, a beautiful sunset. He watched as the clouds passed and the birds flew by.

Birds.

Why does that remind him of something?

What do birds have to do with a gift?

He closed his eyes, trying to remember a moment. Any moment, whether good or bad, anything that could help him get a hint as to what to do.

And then, a memory flashed.

It was a rainy day, and you were late.

You were walking and running, but the rain was coming down pretty hard. You weren’t an idiot, so you weren't wearing the U.A. uniform. Instead, you wore a jacket. But even then, you were still soaked.

You didn’t have an umbrella, a raincoat, or any protective gear. You were running through the rain, trying to get to the school before the bell rang.

Luckily, it wasn't too far away.

Shoto remembered seeing you run, and for a brief second, he thought you were an idiot. He wondered why you didn't just take the bus or the train. If you lived near the school, you would've had plenty of time.

And still, even being as late as you were, you were still determined to have your daily conversations with Shoto.

You were definitely an odd ball, but in that moment, a certain memory came to mind.

When you finally made it to class, you were absolutely soaked. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your shoes were squishing with every step you took.

You sat down, understandably grumpy, but you weren’t upset that you were late, wet, or even sick the next day. No, what was upsetting you was the fact that you had lost something.

A hairclip, to be specific.

You lost a hairclip.

It was a clip that had a hummingbird attached to it. The clip itself was silver, but the hummingbird was painted green. He knows this because you wouldn’t stop talking about it.

He remembered you saying that it was a gift from a family member. He didn’t know who, nor did he care at the time, but you cared.

You really cared.

You spent the majority of the day searching for the hairclip. You searched the hallways, the bathroom, the cafeteria, everywhere you could think of, but it wasn’t there. It was nowhere to be found.

And for a week, you wore your hair down, which was the complete opposite of what you normally did.

If only Shoto realized this at the time, then he would've helped you look for it. He was good at finding things, ironically, but the thought didn’t cross his mind, and neither did the memory.

Until now.

In a split second, he bolted up. He rushed downstairs, not caring if he was loud. He didn’t care if his family could hear him; he didn’t care if he was disturbing their peace.

He had an idea, a good one, and it was perfect.

It was the most personal gift he could think of. Throw in a couple of your favorites, and it would be perfect.

He would make you a gift basket, but he would add his own touch to it. Again, he wasn’t that creative, but he had a basic idea. You’d like ribbons, right? Why not a nice bow?

Unfortunately, your specific hummingbird hair clip was long gone, but the internet seemed to have everything. He searched for hours, ignoring his study guide for the upcoming exam, and finally, after what seemed like forever, he found a silver hummingbird. It wasn’t painted green, but it was the same model as your old one.

It was the best he could do. And fortunately, due to the one-day shipping, he would have it by the time Monday rolled around.

He ordered it, and when it came in, he put the basket together. He bought you a book based on your favorite genre, some chocolate, a bouquet of some of your favorite flowers, and then, he added the ribbon.

The clip he put in a special case, away from the basket. He would be giving this separately because it would mean more, and he felt like this was something that shouldn’t be touched by anything else.

And, well, he wanted to see your reaction to his apology. It would be easier to read your expression if he didn't give you both the gift at the same time.

Oh, right, the apology.

He didn’t really think about that, and honestly, he didn’t know how to start.

But the best way to do anything is with practice, right?

Screw that upcoming test. He had something much more important to deal with, and knowing him, he’d probably still ace the test anyway.

He cleared his throat, standing in the middle of his room.

Okay, how would he start?

Hi? No, that was too casual.

Hello? No, it's not formal enough.

Greetings?

No, no, he shouldn’t sound like a robot.

He needed something more genuine, more real.

Maybe... maybe he should start by telling you how sorry he was. Yeah, that would be the best.

He cleared his throat again.

"Hey," his voice cracked, and his eyes widened. He sounded so awkward. That was so not smooth.

He started over.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while," he started. "I'm... I'm sorry for everything I've done. For everything I've said. You didn't deserve any of that."

This felt like a speech. Maybe he should tone it down.

"I… I was a horrible person, and I wish I could take back all the things I said, but I can't, and I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. And I know a simple sorry won't fix everything, so..."

He went over to the desk and picked up the box with the silver hummingbird inside.

"I want to give you this. I hope you like it."

Okay, practice over. He’s better off winging it. He truly regretted how he acted, so regardless of how the apology goes, hopefully, you can see that he's being genuine.

He sighed.

Hopefully.

The next day came quicker than expected. He spent the entire night preparing, and by the time the morning came, he was exhausted.

But it was okay because soon, he'd be able to see you and, hopefully, make amends.

Panic didn’t set in until he caught sight of you at your locker, picking out your books.

The moment his eyes landed on you, his heart started to race. His throat went dry, and his hands got clammy.

This is it, he thought—all or nothing.

He took a deep breath.

Here goes.

"Excuse me," he started. His voice sounded shaky, but he ignored it. He had to stay confident and pretend he wasn’t nervous.

You turned to him, and the moment your eyes met his, he swore he could feel his heart stop.

Those eyes… full of utter shock and surprise. You were really caught off guard. And he was, too, because not a single word was uttered from his lips.

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Hey, Todoroki," you smiled at him. You seemed hesitant, and honestly, who could blame you? He had never really been nice to you.

"I was just heading to class, but uh," you rubbed the back of your neck. "Did you… did you need something?"

The question made him snap back into reality.

He was still speechless, so to fix the awkward atmosphere, he decided just to hand you the basket.

You were obviously confused. Your brows were furrowed, and you stared at the present like it was some foreign object.

"What's this?"

"It's a gift."

Your confusion didn't fade. In fact, it was almost replaced with concern.

"For... me?"

Oh, for the love of…, snap out of it, Shoto!

He shook his head.

"Yes, for you," he handed you the gift, and when you held it, he couldn’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. "I…"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Look, I'm... I'm sorry. For everything."

You just stared at him blankly, and for a moment, Shoto felt the panic rise. What if you didn’t forgive him?

You were quiet for a while, and his nervousness only grew. He decided to try again.

"You were just trying to be friends, and all I did was push you away. I was so… rude and cold, and you didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to be kind. So, I wanted to make it up to you. I wanted to do something nice and show you how deeply apologetic I am."

Silence.

He didn't know what to say anymore, so he continued, hoping he wasn't making a bigger mess than what it was.

"I also, uh, got you this," he pulled out the case from inside his uniform. With the way you were silent the entire time, he was starting to think you wouldn’t accept the gift.

So, the moment your hand reached out to grab the box, he was relieved to know you were willing to listen.

"I know it’s not your original, but it's the closest I could find. And, well, it's the least I could do, considering how I acted."

When you opened the box, he could see the way your eyes lit up. He was so nervous about this, so scared that you wouldn’t like it, but the way you smiled proved him wrong.

And that smile. Oh, that smile.

He caused that smile. Instead of stealing it away or making it go away, he made it appear.

"Todoroki, I," you were speechless. Utterly speechless, he could tell by the way you looked up at him.

You were trying to find the right words, and honestly, he didn’t blame you. He was in a similar situation.

"You didn’t have to get me this," you said, a bright smile on your face. You were holding the hummingbird gently like it was a precious object. "I probably would've forgiven you even if you didn’t get me anything."

Wait, was that a yes?

Was that a yes?!

Shoto could feel the corners of his lips twitch. He felt himself smiling.

"Thank you," you continued, still holding the hummingbird carefully. "It means a lot to me. I appreciate the effort you put into this. And, um, thank you for the apology. I really needed to hear it. Honestly, I thought I did something wrong, so I'm glad that wasn’t the case."

You laughed a bit, and even if he was confused about why you were laughing at all, he was relieved that you were accepting his apology.

"You did nothing wrong," he told you. "I was the one who messed up. I have issues, but that's not an excuse to be a jerk."

You smiled again, and he noticed the way you fiddled with the box. It was clear you wanted to attach the hairclip.

"I can… um, help you with that if you want."

The instant nod from you was enough for him to grab it delicately from the box, and when he did, you turned around.

It was a really pretty clip, and it suited you. Whoever originally gave it to you clearly had great taste.

It took a second, but he finally placed it into your hair. When you turned back around, he nodded in approval.

"You look nice," he told you.

"Thank you."

There was a pause.

"Um, did you, uh, want to sit together during lunch? I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to, but I thought I'd ask."

The amount of joy he suddenly felt was unexplainable. You were accepting him, and it was the most amazing thing he had ever experienced.

"Yeah, sure," he nodded. "That sounds nice."

Mission make up with you: success.

The guilt of everything still lingered, and he would have to apologize to everyone else as well, but that could be done later.

Right now, all that mattered was his new friend. A friend that should’ve been his a long time ago.