Honeymoon Sabotage

The heavy mahogany door of the penthouse suite swung open with a soft metallic chime, revealing an expanse of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean. The setting sun painted the sky in deep magenta and gold, casting long shadows across the polished white marble.

Shoto stepped into the foyer first, easily slinging both of your heavy travel bags off his shoulder. "We finally made it," he murmured, his deep, soothing voice dropping into that quiet, relaxed register he only used when the two of you were completely alone. "No press, no emergency agency calls, and no—"

He cut himself off mid-sentence, his entire posture locking rigid.

The room was massive, but the setup in the center was impossible to ignore. The king-sized canopy bed was buried under a four-inch-deep carpet of crushed red rose petals. Positioned directly on the bedside nightstand was a heavy silver service tray lined with red velvet. Arrayed across it were dozens of luxury-brand condom boxes, high-potency fertility supplements, and a thick parchment letter stamped with the burning crest of the Number One Hero Agency.

A low, involuntary hiss echoed through the suite. A plume of white steam erupted from Shoto’s left shoulder as his skin flushed with immediate, intense heat. Simultaneously, jagged spikes of frost expanded across the right side of his chest, crawling down his arm and freezing the marble floor beneath his boots solid.

"My father," Shoto said, his voice dropping into a lethal, frigid calm. His mismatched turquoise and gray eyes locked onto the nightstand with absolute disgust. "He paid off the hotel management. He actually followed us here."

He set the luggage down with a heavy thud and crossed the room in deliberate strides. Picking up the letter with two fingers, he scanned the bold calligraphy in deadpan silence before reading a line aloud: 'Ensure the continuation of the bloodline. A powerful heir combining my son's potential with {{user}}'s Quirk will secure our legacy.'

A tiny flicker of blue flame burst from Shoto's left thumb, incinerating the letter into fine black ash before it even touched the floor.

"I knew bringing the others was necessary," Shoto muttered, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Monoma is definitely assisting him. He was raving for an hour at the train station after you called him an insufferable creep in front of me, and he's still bitter about Class 1-B not getting free resort vouchers. He probably leaked our room details just for the free buffet."

He tapped out a brief text to Room 302. A fraction of a second later, a muffled boom echoed through the heavy concrete walls from the hallway, followed immediately by Bakugo yelling an obscenity about hunting down 'that copycat bastard' and Midoriya frantically shouting about tactical restraint.

Shoto let out a slow breath, letting the intense heat on his left side settle into a gentle, radiating warmth. He slipped his phone away and turned back to face you, his heterochromic eyes softening completely as his gaze landed on you.

He closed the distance between you, wrapping his long arms securely around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest. He rested his forehead gently against yours, his right hand coming up to cup your cheek with a cool, soothing touch.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your lips, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. "I promised you a quiet, perfect honeymoon away from all of this. I won't let his absurd obsession ruin our time together."

He glanced over his shoulder at the rose-covered bed and the silver tray of supplements, his brow furrowing slightly in contemplation. "Midoriya and Bakugo are handling the perimeter, and Kaminari is currently frying the directional microphones in the walls. We have time. Do you want me to freeze that entire tray and throw it into the ocean, or should I just burn the bed and call room service for a new one?"

The warm moonlight reflected off the steaming surface of the terrace infinity pool, where the ocean breeze washed over the acrylic deck. Slipping into the water without clothes had felt like the ultimate escape from the intrusive rose-petal fiasco in the bedroom—until a blinding flare of orange light shattered the silence.

The thick wall of ice Shoto had raised around the balcony suddenly groaned under extreme thermal pressure, exploding inward into a shower of boiling steam and melting slush.

Endeavor stepped through the gap, his flame-beard roaring with terrifying heat, his massive frame looming over the edge of the pool. Behind him, Monoma was ducked behind a palm planter with a stolen pair of night-vision binoculars and a plate of buffet crab legs, cackling spitefully about Class 1-A getting what they deserved.

"Enough of this disgraceful delay, Shoto!" Endeavor’s voice boomed across the deck, echoing over the sound of the crashing waves. "The combination of your Half-Cold Half-Hot and {{user}}'s Quirk is a once-in-a-generation genetic miracle! I did not fund this entire resort stay for you to waste time swimming! I expect a successor, and I will personally supervise this union tonight to ensure you do not compromise the potential of the next generation!"

Shoto’s response was instantaneous. He shifted his body directly in front of you, submerging you up to your collarbone while his left side flared, boiling the pool water around him as his turquoise eye burned with lethal, unadulterated fury.

"You have completely lost your mind," Shoto said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, frigid register. "Take one more step toward my wife, and I will freeze your lungs solid."

Before Endeavor could advance, a deafening explosion rocked the upper pavilion.

"SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH, YOU OLD FOSSIL!" Bakugo screamed, descending from the roof with a localized AP Shot right at Endeavor's feet, blasting the Number One Hero backward.

"Endeavor-san, stop! This is an insane violation of privacy!" Izuku shrieked, firing tendrils of Blackwhip from a nearby pillar to snag Endeavor's arm, while Kirishima tackled Monoma into the resort bushes. Kaminari repeatedly short-circuited the patio lights, plunging the balcony into chaotic bursts of electric sparks.

"GET OFF ME, BRATS!" Endeavor roared, swatting away the whip tendrils. "THEY WILL PRODUCE AN HEIR TONIGHT!"

Shoto didn't wait. Slamming his right hand onto the wet pool deck, he summoned a massive, thirty-foot glacier that erupted beneath Endeavor, encasing him and the entire terrace entrance in solid, multi-layered ice.

As the muffled shouting died down behind the thick ice wall, Shoto turned back to you in the steaming pool. He pulled you tightly against his chest, his hands trembling slightly on your waist as his heterochromic eyes searched your face with protective devotion.

"He will never touch you," Shoto whispered against your temple, his body warmth keeping the water perfectly hot. "Are you okay?"

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