Hiro x reader one shots

Prom

Your P.O.V

"Wow, Y/N, you look amazing," Hiro gasps as you ascend the step. His mouth hangs open starring at you in your lovely, (Fav Color) dress.

"You don't look so bad yourself," I smirk, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Pictures guys we need to get pictures," Cass surrounds the two of you snapping pictures, then Honey Lemon joins in. My eyes begin to blur with all of the flashing light, my mom snaps one more picture.

"Alright I think that's enough," she smiles at her camera.

"Good, because, I think I have a cornea infection," I exagerate rubbing my makeup covered eyes, I stop instantly when I see my hand layered with glitter.

"Let me fix that," Honey Lemon takes out her bag and fixes my smeared eyeshadow.

"Thanks Honey,"

"No problem now get going my senior kids," she pushes Hiro and I out the door. He stumbles and almost falls on the porch steps.

"Hiro are you ok?"

"Yeah, it was just all the flash," he utters.

"Gotcha, here, grab my hand I'll help you into the limo," I explain.

"Ok," I help him into the limo with ease. Although Hiro is meerly six feet tall and slightly mascualne.

"Are you excited gorgeous?" Hiro asks slightly shaking.

"Of course, a bit nervous you know, prom quart and all. I doubt I'll win, I'm a loser,"

"They picked you for a reason love, because you're beautiful and smart. Who cares if you aren't as popular as Ruby? You will always be popular to me," Hiro kisses my temple.

"Awe, thank you," I blush a rose pink.

"Look, at everyone," He points out the window to the several students who I barely reconize all dressed up. The showfer opens the door for me and I willingly get out of the huge car.

"Hey, who is that?" someone whispers harshly. I cringe at their words and try not to listen. I am definatly a loser.

"Come on beautiful,"Hiro takes my hand and pulls me inside the venure. The room is big with colorful lighting, I spot the snack table and instantly as if on cue my stomach growls. Not yet, stomach, I need to fit in this dress.

"Y/N come on they are crowning prom king and queen now,"

"But prom only just started," I argue.

"I know, just come on sweet heart," he whispers soothingly. He brings me up around the stage where the rest of the school is. The sparkling crowns stay on a plush velet pillow that Princeapal Smith holds.

"Ok, let's annouce the king first," he speaks into the microphone a few claps are sounded. Then die down when Smith pulls out the card.

"The prom king is," the crowd waits impateintly. "Hiro Hamada," The crowd screams and cheers happily, I push Hiro forward toward the steps so he can take the crown.

"Ok, now mr. hamada, we need to get your queen up here,"

"Ha, well I already know who she is," Hiro comments, his eyes staring right at me.

"Alright well let's bring Ameila Henery up," Hiro's eyes widen as the head cheerleaders name is called. My smile falls and I watch as the peppy girl rises to the stage, I should've known. I don't know why Hiro even dated me in the first place.

"Let's bring these two down so they can have their first dance as king and queen," Smith orders. Hiro stays stills before Smith pushes him into Ameila, my heart breaks as I watch them walk out to the dance floor. Well this prom sucks. Secretary Lisa comes out on stage and whispers something to Smith. His face gets red just as the slow music begins for Hiro and Ameila to dance.

"Well sadly the prom queen drawings have been rigged, I'm sorry, Ameila, but the real queen is Y/N L/N," Smith smiles happily. Hiro looks over to me with a huge smile.

"and before this lovely couple has their first dance can I please have the cheeleaders and football team up here," Smith sounds before the slow music starts. The crown is placed on my head by Hiro and he wraps his arms around my waist.

"I knew you were always my queen, never for one second did I doubt that," he whispers in my ear. I lay my head on his shoulder, swaying to the soft melody.

"You are always my king Hiro," for the rest of the night I dance with my king as he murmurs sweet nothings in my ear.

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