Shoto Todoroki x Reader (DISCONTINUED)

An Artist's Fear (Fem Reader)

This is a mix of two requests from Shade_the_weeb and Im_a_human06! Thank you so much for requesting!

Philophobia: The fear of falling in love

Warnings: Language

Key:

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/L/N) = Your Last Name

(H/C) = Hair Colour

(E/C) = Eye Colour

(F/C) = Favourite Colour

 Love is a scary thing. Feeling such large amounts of compassion for one person that makes your heart swell seemed like a nightmare. At least, to (Y/N) (Y/L/N) it was. She grew up not knowing anything different; her parents weren't exactly the most prime example of how great love can be. Her mother and father fell out of love very quickly and they thought the best way to fix that was to have a child; they were proved wrong very quickly. Money became a huge issue due to their daughter, so they were constantly at each other's throats. One memory in particular still haunted the (H/C) to the current day:

'It was just an ordinary night in the (Y/L/N)' household. (Y/N) had been sitting in her room, quietly sketching with headphones on. Her quirk was called Doodle; anything she drew would come to life. In order to allow her to draw freely without having to worry, a support company had made her a special pencil. The writing tool cancelled out the effect of her quirk so she could write and draw without the fear of her creation coming to life.

She had just finished making the outline of an angel when a particularly loud shout broke through the volume of her headphones, "this is all your fucking fault!" The (H/C) sighed and removed the listening device from her ears; she knew all too well that they wouldn't muffle anything. This wasn't right; no child should have to be exposed to constant yelling and arguing, but what else could she do? She was only nine; there wasn't anywhere she could go without her parents knowing. Another ten minutes of screaming passed before it was safe to head downstairs.

Her small feet crossed the cold floor to get to the staircase, she observed the area with her (E/C) eyes in order to make sure it was totally okay. After determining that she was, in fact, safe, she carefully tiptoed her way down the staircase and into the kitchen to get some water. The fighting always made her cry, which for some reason made her thirsty. Quiet sobs echoed from the kitchen and (Y/N) froze. 'That sounds like...' she thought, shaking her head softly, "mommy?" she called out, her thoughts racing. She didn't know if she should just turn around and run or go into the kitchen and help. Her only response was another sob, so she plucked up whatever bravery she had and entered the kitchen.

Just as she had suspected, it was indeed her mother. The older woman looked up at her for a moment with teary eyes and a deep frown. "Mommy, are you...okay?" the nine year old asked, hesitantly taking a seat next to her mother on the floor. "Sweetheart..." she began, placing a hand on the (H/C)'s head, "you don't need to worry about me." (Y/N) frowned, slowly reached out, grabbing her mom's arm and hugging it gently, "but I love you." She smiled, "I love you too, my dear daughter." "Mommy," the (H/C) began, making her mother look at her, "do you...do you love daddy?" "No, I don't. (Y/N), falling in love was the worst thing that had ever happened to me..." the older woman sniffled, making her daughter's (E/C) eyes widen, "...worst thing?" "Yes, the absolute worst thing. If I hadn't fallen in love, I wouldn't be here. Don't make the same mistake I did..."'

(Y/N) shot up from her bed with a gasp, 'goddamn memory won't go away,' she thought, clutching her head. She could feel the cold sweat pooling underneath her hand as her heart continued to pound heavily; her body still shaking in fear. With a sigh, she slowly stood up from her bed and slipped on a pair of (F/C) slippers she kept in her dorm room. Ever since moving in with her friends, the memory had been coming back to her quite frequently; it showed up most of the time in her dreams, making them into nightmares. Off her desk, she grabbed her sketchbook and special pencil, hastily leaving her dorm room. Whenever she got like this, she always would go outside and sketch until she was calm.