Boku No Hero Academia One Shots [Book 2]

Shouto Todoroki {Male Reader}

Requested by: That1galaxyboi

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"I don't think you're very compatible." A tone of overprotective aggression adorned your brother's voice, as he hinted of his distaste towards your beloved.

The Sports Festival had arrived, and subsequently departed, before your frostwork-gemstone eyes, in little more than two blinks, it seemed. And, despite having significantly few interactions with the object of your incessant affections, Shouto Todoroki of Class 1-A, he still chose to regard the boy with much venom. So, once he caught wind of your obscene fascination with the monotone mess, he naturally developed a waxing sense of worry and dread. Forthwith, he tried, albeit subtly, to dissuade your heart. Although, this was unfortunately in vain. Hitoshi figured that, under the strict guidance of Pro Hero Endeavor, the boy would be automatically inclined to loathing, for show of your differences. A delicate young man of fourteen was sure to be utterly crushed in this most devastating event.

"Oh Hitoshi," You started, raising your voice to an almost-ethereally shrill degree, in the hope of perhaps provoking some much-desired compassion for your present predicament. "you say that so often, I'm honestly beginning to doubt my worth. Am I not good enough for him? Will I ever be good enough? Please, Hitoshi. Please just speak to him in my steed."

Approaching the newly-constructed UA dormitories, wherein the two of you would separate, Hitoshi sighed, raking a quivering finger through those untamed, violet locks. "Look, (Y/n), I don't know him, so I don't know how he'd react to you. He strikes me as intolerant and very blunt, and I don't want him breaking your heart."

Running a few paces ahead, you called, "But he won't break my heart! I'm not that much of a pushover, Hitoshi. If he so much as made a subtly-disrespectful comment, I would kick his ass into oblivion."

At this wholly-factual proclamation, Hitoshi allowed himself a smile. Of course you were able to defend yourself - how much blindness and stupidity would permeate, would torment his being? Your quirk, being far more powerful and superior to his own, gifted the ability to produce blasts of psychic energy, which you could either use to mentally or physically incapacitate an opponent. Next year, you would be attending UA, for definite. Then, maybe the mismatched fire and ice wielder would pay you some attention?

"Ah." Hitoshi exclaimed, noticing figures in the surrounding area. 

"Great." He muttered under his breath, proceeding to tug at your sleeve and lead you away; he really couldn't bear another unnecessary conversation.

"What is it, Hitoshi?" You asked, unadulterated curiosity bleeding into your tone.

Gesturing to the distant silhouettes, he affirmed, "They're from the hero courses. It sounds like a fight - looks like one, too. Monoma from Class 1-B, and Bakugou from Class 1-A. They're both crazy. Don't get involved."

"But, who are the others?" Your inquisitiveness sliced through his thoughts.

After a moment, he responded. "...I'm not sure."

With a spirited flickering of your glittery, (e/c) crystals, you glanced amid the throng, recognising at once the half-blurred outline of a certain gorgeous upperclassman. Enthrallment billowed in your chest, compelling your every footfall. Hitoshi stepped forwards and attempted to pull you back, unsuccessfully. The closer you treaded, the more of the argument you managed to unravel. It spilled into your unassuming ears like a bursting dam, consuming you both rapidly and entirely. With each passing minute, you strained a little more, hoping beyond hope to hear your beloved's fairy-tale monologue. At present, a comfortable silence seemed to have him enveloped, but you supposed it was only a matter of time, before he un-ensnared his sense of reality. Just ghosting your wide, adoring (e/c) eyes upon him, basking his soul in their illumination, you realised how far removed he was from the current situation.

Laughter, unrestrained and girlish, bubbled in your throat, but you tried to swallow it down. Of the few things that appeared to remain very feminine, your giggles were certainly one. Hitoshi, once upon you, providing a scolding akin to one your parents' would give, but he soon turned his attention to the scene before you. While he was focused on the boisterous, and frankly violent, dialogues being exchanged, your eyes never faltered from the form of that bi-coloured god. Ah, he was so very perfect, in every way imaginable. You had never before encountered such ethereal beauty, and such masterful and graceful mannerisms, coupled with the eloquent monotony of his speech.

To you, nothing, not even the combined regality and divinity of every god and goddess in the pantheon, could ever hope to eclipse such virgin beauty. Lost within the swirling aquamarine and silvery abysses of his eyes, you wouldn't have noticed the congregation dispersing, if not for Hitoshi, who prodded your arm gently.

Awakened from a most intoxicating delirium, you gathered the remnants of a courage long forgot, upon noting that only a few individuals had stayed in the frame. Without waiting for permission, you pranced out of hiding, apparently rather startling those who were now observing your presence. There was a mighty force, perhaps of complete bewitchment, that seemed to tether you to Shouto. You, by virtue of this unknown force, that was perhaps total idolatry, were dragged closer and closer. Twinkling crystals, one blue, the other grey, latched on to your approaching form. And, as a lock devoid of a complementary key, they simply refused to budge.

Despite the lack of significant distance, you acted as though every trace of oxygen had been knocked from your lungs. You spoke in cracked phrases, oddly high-pitched squeals, and you garnished those trembling words with frantic gesticulations of the hands.

"U-Uh hi...! Oh god, oh g-god, c-c-calm d-down...um, well, you see...ah, so e-embarrassing...!"

Encountering an unexpected cuteness in both your timidity and desperation to produce even a single, coherent word, Shouto was about to grace you with his voice. However, someone of a slightly less...compassionate disposition decided to invite himself into your conversation.

The crazed-psycho-looking blonde sneered, upon heeding your (what he assumed to be) less-than-masculine traits. "Are you actually supposed to be a boy? Why are you acting so girly? It's disgusting! Every time you look in the mirror, you must wallow in shame! Just go home and cry over all your girly toys, and leave the boys alone!"

Hitoshi, feeling pangs of extreme fury, resentment and murderous intent, made to exit his hiding spot and take a draconian revenge on the outrageous blonde. Shouto beat him to the punch. With the vexed twitch of an eye, he placed himself as a barrier between you and Monoma. Then, almost instantaneously, an ice wall of monstrous proportions encompassed the blonde entirely, save for his head, leaving no time for him to touch Shouto. He strained against the frigid element, but to no avail.

Particles of ice glistened on Shouto's palm, as he readied to seal the blonde up completely. "Being shy and kind doesn't make him any less of a boy." The mismatched teen asserted. "But, making fun of him for his differences makes you less of a hero, and less of a man. I'm going to leave you in this ice until he hears a genuine apology. I don't care if it takes all night."

Hitoshi was star-struck, to say the very least. 

[Word Count: 1214]