#shouto imagines
DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi
Event Masterlist-MHA Masterlist-Main Masterlist
WARNINGS: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending
Requested by: Anonymous
(hey i wanted to request silly girl by chloe moriondo with shoto???)
A/N: Here I am with another Todoroki fic! I’m pretty happy with how it turned out - it’s not a typical kind of fic that I’d write about Shoto, but I think the song paired nicely with it. It’s more serious than sweet I would say, but def fluffy at the v end. Also this song is so good omg. Anyways, thank you so much for requesting this within the event, I hope you love it!!!
Word Count: 1.6K
Shoto Todoroki gave you butterflies. He gave you that head-over-heels, “kicking your feet in the air” kind of feeling that makes you realize you’re in love. And not just that casual crush kind of thing - it was the kind of love where you smiled at him whenever you walked into class. That kind of love where you looked at him first after you finished a presentation, to see if he was nodding his head in agreement with your statements.
He appeared to be too good for the world, too lovely. When there was even a shadow of a smile, a chorus of angels seemed to sing and shine a halo on top of his head. He learned and spoke and trained with such grace and poise, like a ballerina not breaking a sweat during a difficult variation. His clothes were always ironed and fit him well and his hair flopped over his forehead in such a way that it looked like someone had meticulously set every strand into its place purposefully and methodically. To you, Shoto Todoroki was perfect.
What you didn’t know was that after he closed the door to his dorm room, he could do little to prevent himself from collapsing on his floor, his head in his hands. You didn’t know that some nights he would get so sad thinking about his family that he’d cry until he was hiccuping and felt like he was about to throw up. Or about the way he’d wrap himself in a blanket so tightly it felt like his mother giving him a hug, even though he hadn’t had one from her since he was eight years old. Shoto Todoroki was not a pristine tea plate in a fine china set. He was cracked. Falling apart. Broken.
But Shoto hid it well. He placed that soft indifferent mask on his face and went about his day, trying to force that worry and insecurity and heartbreak down, down beneath that facade. No slipping up, no making a scene. Perfection.
You weren’t meant to be up this late, however, a strong urge for a cup of tea had you out of your bed and walking down the hallways. It was late at night, or rather, really early in the morning so all of your classmates’ dorm lights were turned off. As you passed door after door, it was kind of funny. Some had white noise turned on, others calming piano music. Just another thing that made you love dorm life so much - the individuality. However, something was starkly out of place. The further down you walked, the more light seemed to be spilling out of a door. Cracked open just a smidge, you frowned. Who on earth is up this late? You thought to yourself, your feet carrying you a little quicker to the light source. Peeking at the name plate next to the door you sucked in a breath. Etched onto the plastic read the name “Shoto Todoroki”. You shook your head, taking a step back. It’s not my business to question why he’s up so late. You tell yourself, looking towards the end of the hallway where the common room lay, begging you to come and make a cup of tea. However, when you heard a faint sniffle, your head snapped back to his door. Not. My. Business, you force into your brain. Squeezing your eyes shut and spinning back around, you make to get your warm beverage. What stops you dead in your tracks is when you hear a cry. A cry, coming from Shoto’s room. Shoto was crying.
You knock softly, not too loud to wake anyone up but loud enough for him to hopefully hear. Immediately, the sniffles and quiet sobs stopped. You looked towards the ground to see a shadow slowly appearing and becoming bigger as he moved towards the door. It creaked open gently, and as soon as you saw his face, a part of you crumbled. His hair was messy, his pajamas rumpled. His heterochromatic eyes were glazed over with tears and tinged with red. You could see that his cupid’s bow was a bit wet as well, probably due to a runny nose.
“Oh, L/N. Did you need something?” He asked, however it came out more like a statement. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, trying to think of what to say before shaking your head. “Alright then, good night.” He says, moving to shut the door. You’re too quick, though, placing a hand on the door to prevent any further movement.
“I don’t need something,” you say a bit shyly, though your eyes gave a steadier impression, “but I think you do.” He said nothing, but continued to look at you. It felt like you were at a stalemate in a game of chess, neither of you were budging. Until the red-and-white haired boy conceded and swept the door open quickly, making you stumble into the room and almost fall face-first onto the floor. He didn’t say anything, but sat down on his futon quietly. “I just, uhm,” you begin, fiddling with your fingers and trying your hardest to not make a fool of yourself. “I wanted to make sure that you’re okay.” He looked up at you quickly after you said that and slightly narrowed his eyes.
“Does it seem to you like I’m ‘okay’?” You swallowed slightly and shook your head, more confident this time.
“No, it doesn’t seem like that. You’re one of, if not, the most put together people I know. This doesn’t really seem like you.”
“On the contrary, this happens quite often, it’s just that no one knows.” He says, laying down and staring at the ceiling.
“Is there anything I can get you to help? I was actually on my way to get a cup of tea, but maybe you might like a pillow or something to hold on to-”
“No, nothing tangible will help with this.” Shoto says, his tone a bit cold.
“What about if I listen?”
“Listen to what?”
“Whatever is troubling you. I don’t judge, I promise.” Shoto snorts a bit at your response.
“Didn’t you just say I’m so put together? You were alluding that I am someone who is perfect, so this will certainly prove to be troubling to your idea of me.”
“Perceptions change and people have layers.” You say simply, laying down on the floor next to him. “I like to get to know people, and if you’re not completely who I thought you were, who cares? It’s not people’s ideas of you who matter most.” You don’t see it, but he cracks a small smile.
“Okay then.” And so he tells you. He tells you everything that makes him cry and worry and keeps him up at night. He cries through most of it as he confesses the darkness of his life, both in fear of it finally coming to light and relief. Relief that another person now knows what’s been troubling him since infancy. He tells you how his mother was taken away from him before the age of ten after she scarred his face. He tells you about his father and how every part of that man’s being plagues him. He confides in you about his siblings and how detached he felt from them, and how he was too young to know his older brother that died. He tells you how completely cracked and shattered he truly feels.
“Todoroki, do you know what kintsugi is?” You ask, your eyes growing a little droopy from drowsiness but still fighting to stay open. You see him shake his head out of the corner of your eye. You take a breath, and then continue. “It’s an art where people repair broken pottery, china, and other stuff like that by sort of gluing the pieces back together with gold. It’s so that people know it was previously broken, but it’s made even more beautiful than it originally was with pretty golden seams.” You shift your head to look at Shoto to find he was already looking at you, a fresh wave of tears in his eyes. A couple of your own start to slip down your cheeks as you smile widely at him. “And I know that you said you were broken. I believe you truly were. But I see the gold that binds you back together. You’re not perfect. You’re not without flaws. But you’re incredible, and admirable, and so completely brave for being able to live what you’ve lived through and be who you are.” And, for the first time, Shoto smiles at you - truly smiles at you. It’s wobbly and his lips were stained with salty tears, but he was smiling. “And so many people love you for it. All of us do. So please don’t be afraid to cry in front of us or confide in us. Please be you with us.” You say, basically pleading. Shoto chuckles a bit and nods his head. A smile graces your cheeks as you sit up. “Good” You say simply, standing up and smoothing out your pajamas.
“Are you going?” He asks, standing up quickly.
“While it is Saturday tomorrow, it’s also 2:30 in the morning, so I should probably get some sleep.” You sigh, yawning. He nods but looks slightly crestfallen. You hold his hands and give him a sleepy grin. “I’m going to bed, but I’ll be awake in the morning. Come find me then, okay?” You say, earning a squeeze of your hand back. “Sweet dreams, Shoto.” You say, slipping from his room into the dark of the night.
“Sweet dreams, Y/N.” He whispers, turning off his light and falling onto his futon. For the first time in years, he doesn’t have nightmares. Instead, when his head hit the pillow, he found himself dreaming of you.
Taglist (Let me know if you want to be added!):
@luluwiie ~ All-Flora Florist
@maiacroson ~ All-Flora Florist
@nerdypuppytimemachine ~ All-Flora Florist
@voilawind ~ All-Flora Florist
@catguinsstuff ~ All-Flora Florist
@lovers-liability ~ Snowbell Florist
@vdoesthings ~ All-Flora Florist
