A year into their marriage, and the "Todoroki Effect" had become a national pastime. The stoic, icy Prince of the Hero world had transformed into a man who was so publicly, shamelessly "whipped" that even the news anchors occasionally teased him about it.
Whether it was holding (Y/N)'s hand during press conferences or the way he instinctively leaned his head into her space the moment she was near, Shoto was a total "jelly" when it came to his wife. And tonight, with the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties for Izuku and Ochaco in full swing, his anxiety was at an all-time high.
The Girls' Location: A Club
The atmosphere was electric. Music was blasting, and the girls were let loose. Mirko was standing on a coffee table, cheering, while Ochaco was bright red but laughing.
"Alright, ladies!" Mina Ashido shouted, holding a megaphone. "We've had the cake, we've had the games, now for the main event! The 'pro-hero' entertainment has arrived!"
Two very muscular, very tan men dressed in mock-hero costumes walked into the room, music thumping. The "strippers" started their routine, and while it was all in good fun, the room erupted in screams and laughter.
(Y/N) was laughing so hard she had to hold her sides, sitting on the sofa next to Momo and Tsuyu. Suddenly, her phone buzzed. Then it buzzed again. And again.
[Shoto]: *Are you having fun?*
[Shoto]: *Natsuo said he heard a rumor about 'entertainment.' What kind of entertainment?*
[Shoto]: *Is there a villain attack? I heard screaming in the background of your last voice note.*
[Shoto]: *Answer me, (Y/N). I'm ten minutes away from your location.*
"Is that him again?" Mirko laughed, leaning over (Y/N)'s shoulder. "Tell him if he shows up here, I'll kick him off the balcony! It's girls' night!"
(Y/N) giggled, typing back: *Relax, Sho. It's just some guys dancing. They're wearing more than you do in the shower. Drink your drink and focus on Midoriya!*
The Boys' Location: A High-End Lounge
The atmosphere was... intense. Not because of the drinks, but because of Shoto. He was sitting on the engawa, his phone glowing in his hand. Every three minutes, his thumb swiped across the screen.
"Todoroki, man, put the phone down!" Kaminari groaned, gesturing to the untouched skewers of yakitori. "You've checked on her four times since the appetizers arrived."
"She's with Mirko," Shoto said, his voice a low, protective rumble. "Mirko's idea of a 'party' involves high-proof sake and physical challenges. I need to make sure (Y/N) is safe."
"The whole country knows you're whipped, Shoto," Bakugo barked from the corner, though even he looked less annoyed than usual. "The news literally ran a segment on 'The Todoroki Stare' you look at her like she's the only oxygen in the room. It's disgusting."
Shoto didn't even flinch. "I am simply being attentive."
Suddenly, Iida who had been scrolling through a social media feed to ensure "decorum" was being met turned pale. "Um... Midoriya? You might want to see this. Mina just posted a story."
The boys crowded around the screen. The video was loud, flashing lights everywhere. In the center of the screen was a very muscular man wearing nothing but a bow tie and neon cuffs. And right there, in the background, was (Y/N).
She was standing on a chair, her face flushed a bright, dizzy pink, holding a tambourine and cheering as the "entertainment" flexed. She looked utterly, blissfully drunk.
The temperature in the boys' villa plummeted. A layer of frost began to creep across the floorboards from Shoto's right side, while his left shoulder started to smoke.
"Strippers," Shoto hissed, his eyes narrowing into cold blue and gray slits. "There are male strippers near my wife."
"Wait, Todoroki-!" Izuku started, but it was too late.
The Girls' Location
The party was at its peak. (Y/N) was having the time of her life. The stress of the last year had melted away into a sake-induced haze.
"GO! GO! GO!" (Y/N) cheered, shaking her tambourine as the dancer did a backflip. She was swaying dangerously on her chair, her hair messy and her eyes glassed over with a happy, drunken fog.
"You're gonna get it when Shoto sees this!" Mina giggled, filming the whole thing.
"Shoto is... Shoto is a sweetie!" (Y/N) slurred, giggling as she almost fell off the chair. "He's my sweet, icy-hot husband! He's probably... probably reading a book right now. So cute."
Suddenly, the elevator dings weren't heard over the music, but the temperature shift was. The club, which had been sweltering, suddenly felt like a walk-in freezer. The music didn't just stop-the DJ's equipment literally frosted over.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Shoto walked onto the dance floor, his coat billowing behind him. He looked like an avenging god of winter. He ignored the strippers, ignored the screaming fans, and walked straight to the chair where (Y/N) was wobbling.
"(Y/N)," he said, his voice vibrating with a mix of jealousy and sheer, over-the-top protectiveness.
(Y/N) looked down, blinking slowly. "Oh! Look! It's my husband! The handsome one from the TV!" She tumbled off the chair, but Shoto caught her instantly, tucking her against his chest.
"You're drunk," he murmured, his face buried in her neck as he inhaled the scent of sake and her perfume. He looked at the stripper, who was currently contemplating retirement. Shoto's eyes flashed with a cold warning that said 'If you even breathe in her direction, I will entomb you.'
"I'm dancing!" (Y/N) chirped, patting Shoto's cheeks with her small hands. "You wanna dance, Sho? You're so warm... no, wait, you're cold. You're perfect."
Shoto didn't say a word to the rest of the party. He simply scooped her up into a bridal carry.
"Hey! The party isn't over!" Mirko yelled, laughing.
"It is for her," Shoto called back, already heading for the exit. "She needs water. And a lecture. And me."
As he carried her out, the girls erupted in squeals. Within ten minutes, "Jealous Shoto" was trending #1 on internet.
In the back of the car, (Y/N) was curled into his lap, nuzzling into his chest. "Are you mad, Shoto?"
Shoto looked down at her, his protective streak softening into pure, unadulterated adoration. He kissed her forehead, his hand stroking her hair. "I'm not mad. But tomorrow, I'm buying that lounge and banning anyone with a bow tie and no shirt."
(Y/N) giggled. "You're so jelly... I love it."
"I am not 'jelly'," Shoto muttered, though he pulled her even tighter against him, his heart finally settling now that she was back in his arms where she belonged.
The cool night air hitting her face made (Y/N)'s head spin even more. She squirmed in Shoto's lap, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated as she tried to push herself away from his chest to get a better look at him.
She squinted, her eyes unfocused and swimming with drunken mischief. She placed her hands on his cheeks, squeezing his face until his lips puckered. her eyes darting between his red and white hair, her head tilting like a confused puppy.
"Wait a minute..." she whispered, her voice dropping into a dramatic, conspiratorial hush. "Who are you? You're... you're very, very handsome. Like, illegally handsome."
Shoto sighed, his hands staying firm on her waist to keep her from wobbling. "It's Shoto, (Y/N). Your husband. We're going home."
"No, no, no," she giggled, reaching up to squeeze his cheeks until his lips puckered into a pout. She leaned in so close their noses brushed, her eyes wide with wonder. "You can't be him. You look like him, but my husband is the most handsome man on the entire planet. He's a hero. He has this... this scar, see?" She traced the edge of his scar with a trembling, gentle finger. "It's very sexy. And his eyes... one is like the ocean and the other is like a storm."
She poked the bridge of his nose, leaning back with a look of pure scandal. "You're an impostor! A very high-quality, 4K-resolution impostor!"
Shoto's lips twitched, a mix of amusement and lingering jealousy tugging at him. "I'm not an impostor, (Y/N). I'm taking you home."
Suddenly, her expression went from giggly to dead serious. She tried to scramble back toward the car door, putting distance between them. "Stop! Don't touch me! You're handsome, Mr. Stranger, but you better back off. If my husband finds out you're touching me, he will burn you to a crisp! Or freeze you into a popsicle! He's very... very protective. He's a total jelly-man."
Shoto rubbed the bridge of his nose. "A jelly-man?"
"Yeah! A big, beautiful, icy-hot jelly-man," she nodded vigorously, her head bobbing so hard she almost lost her balance. She reached out, tentatively touching a strand of his hair. "Why do you look so much like him? It's unfair. If I weren't so incredibly married, I'd totally ask for your number. But I am. Extremely married. To a man who loves me more than he loves cold soba. And that's a lot of love, Mr. Fake-Shoto."
Shoto couldn't help it anymore. A low, genuine chuckle escaped him. He reached out and pulled her back into his lap, ignoring her weak "I have a husband!" protests until he tucks her head under his chin.
"I know you're married," he whispered into her hair, his heart swelling with a warmth that had nothing to do with his Quirk. "And I know he's a lucky man. But I promise, I'm the only one allowed to hold you."
(Y/N) hummed, her resistance crumbling as she sniffed his neck. "Mmm... you even smell like him. Like woodsmoke and rain." She looked up at him one last time, her eyelashes fluttering as sleep began to win. "Okay, Mr. Handsome Impostor. You give good hugs. Just don't tell Shoto... he's very... he's very whipped for me, you know? It would break his heart to know I think another guy is cute."
"I think he'll forgive you," Shoto murmured, kissing the top of her head as the car pulled into the villa.
As he lifted her out of the car, she snuggled into his neck, her small hands clutching his shirt. "I like you, Mr. Stranger," she mumbled against his skin. "You're my second favorite person in the world."
"Only second?" Shoto asked, stepping into the house.
"Yeah," she breathed, her voice trailing off into a sleepy sigh. "My husband is number one. Always."
He spent the next hour patiently helping her out of her shoes and into one of his oversized t-shirts, fetching her water and aspirin while she babbled on about how her "real husband" was going to save her from the "pretty man" currently tucking her into bed.
As he finally climbed in beside her, she snuggled into his side, clutching his arm like a teddy bear. she mumbled into his bicep. "You smell like home."
Shoto smiled into the darkness, kissing the top of her head. "Go to sleep, (Y/N). Your 'jelly' husband will be here when you wake up."