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spider monkey
hanta sero x fem!reader⋆。°✩— college!au (still have quirks), hanta wants to recreate the iconic spiderman kiss with you, fluff, 1.6k words
a/n: for you @bloomstream
With a jangle of your keys, the door to your shared apartment opens. It’s a day like any other. You finished all your classes around 3pm and headed to the library to watch a few missed lectures. Before returning home, you grabbed some takeout from your boyfriend’s favourite noodle place.
And as you step inside, the salty-sweet scent of tender beef stir-fried noodles and miso soup diffusing in the air, you gasp at the utter pigsty before you. Books and couch cushions are scattered about the floor, the coffee table has been propped up against a wall, and there are metres of tape hanging from the ceiling fan.
You mutter in shock, “Oh my god.” Out of the corner of your eye, you see a swathe of black hair and pale skin darting about. With a thud, Hanta lands in front of you in a low crouch.
Rising to his full height, he takes the takeout from your hands and exclaims, “Thanks, babe! Did you get-oh fuck yea!” He leans down and chastely kisses your cheek before heading into the kitchen. Your wide eyes are glued to how perfectly he avoids every obstacle on the floor as he digs through the bag.
You point around your living dishevelled room while stuttering, “U-uh, Hanta, honey. W-what’s going on?” He chuckles warmly as he drops the takeout on the bench and fetches some bowls and cutlery.
He shrugs, “Just testing out my skills, spider monkey.” You take tentative steps toward the kitchen, trying your best to dodge the mess. You’re almost there when you nearly trip on a particularly large cushion. You catch yourself at the last second before you can fall flat on your face (with your heavy-ass fugly backpack on too).
With lightning reflexes, your boyfriend is already next to you, prepared to catch you should you wobble. He steadies you by your forearms, his thin brows furrowed and his full lips slightly pouty.
Hanta asks worriedly, “Are you okay, babe?” You nod and hum reassuringly as you let him guide you to the kitchen unscathed. He squeezes your arm gently before letting go and returning to dishing out your dinner. You lean on the bench with your chest resting on your elbows as you ask him about his day.
Same old, same old. He remarks, “I was actually re-watching Spider-Man.”
You laugh, “Oh yea? How many times is that now? Like 50?” He pushes two bowls toward you, one with your favourite noodles and the other with your soup, and gestures for you to sit down.
The tongs clank beside the sink as he says defensively, “Yea, yea, well… How many times have you rewatched Twilight?” Your mouth falls open, and your hand stills, sauce-slick noodles slipping from your chopsticks.
“Hey!” You call out as he grins cockily and plops down beside you.
“Just saying it like how it is, MJ,” he taunts, his smirk widening as he slurps on miso.
You groan as you pick at your noodles like they have personally offended you, “Will you stop calling me that? My name isn’t MJ.” With a comical gulp, he stares at you for a moment, seeming to assess you in great detail.
Hanta’s slender fingers tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingertips ghosting your jaw. He finally cups your chin and turns your face toward him, tired eyes roving over your features.
All the cheekiness is gone from his expression as he says seriously, “Is that a new pimple?” You push his hand off as he guffaws.
You groan, “Just shut up and eat your noodles, will you?” His palm slams on the table as he doubles over from laughter, earning an eye roll from you.
You stuff your mouth full of yummy goodness, ignoring his heart-warming chuckles, especially how they melt you from the inside out and take off the edge from a long day at college.
He breathes out, “I-it hurts.”
After swallowing, you lick your lips and frown, “Damn right it should.” You reach for a napkin, but your boyfriend beats you to it. He cups your cheek with one hand and pats your oily lips with the serviette in his other. In return, you thumb his under-eyes, catching all of his stray tears.
He pouts as you draw back, “I’m sorry, babe. I couldn’t resist.” You shake your head.
“I know.” Hanta places the dirty napkin on the bench and releases you, resigned to watch in contentment as you continue eating. After a minute, you gaze at him and see his lazy smile and fond eyes, his cheek squished by the palm he’s resting it on.
With a mouth half full, you say, “What?” He chuckles softly as he shakes his head and turns back to his meal.
He mutters, “Nothing.”
Gulping down your food, you whisper-yell, “Is my pimple really that bad?”
He groans, “No, spider-monkey. I was just admiring my super hot girlfriend, jeez.”
Dabbing your mouth dry, you giggle, “Oh, well then, why didn’t you say so?” He sighs before munching on his noodles. As per usual, he finishes before you and starts cleaning up.
While Hanta’s putting the leftovers in the fridge, he reassures you, “Don’t worry, babe. I’m gonna fix the living room. Right after we kiss.” You nearly choked on your soup.
Coughing a little, you stutter, “W-what?”
He spins around and grins at you confidently, “I saw it today. You know, the iconic kiss scene? I was thinking that we could recreate it.” He stalks over to you and leans against the bench, his arms crossed as he continues, “I mean, I am kinda like Spider-Man, and you’re my MJ.” You roll your eyes and finish off your soup.
You thank your boyfriend while handing him your bowl, and he starts washing the dishes. You take up your rightful place by his side, drying and putting the dishes away once they’ve been cleaned. The rubbery snaps of the gloves cut through the quiet apartment as he yanks them off. He then wraps a strong arm around your shoulders and carefully leads you back to the living room.
Stopping in the middle, he raises his hands, palms facing you as he instructs, “Just stay there, okay?”
You whine, “But Hantaaaa, I’m gonna taste like noodles!” He drops his hands, head cocking to the side as gives you the “Are you being serious right now?” look. You nod and scamper off to the bathroom. You swish around mouthwash and spit it out before running back to him.
You chime whilst your heart pounds in your chest, “Okay, your turn!” He groans like this is the worst possible thing that’s ever happened to him and drags his feet to the bathroom, muttering to himself about how you two kiss all the time with morning breath or after dessert.
When he comes back, there’s a spring in his step. He stops in the hallway and calls out to you to stay right where you are. You nod and obey, slapping your palms on your sides as you wait for him to do his thing.
In the blink of an eye, tape shoots past you as he flies in front of you. You watch in awe as he rapidly jumps around the room, his tape sticking to various objects like the half-emptied bookshelves and couch until he wraps it around the tape-saturated ceiling fan.
You squeal as he covers it in impossibly more tape, “Hanta! You’re gonna break it, oh my god!” Your boyfriend has that cheeky smirk plastered across his face as he lowers himself down to you from the fan, hanging upside down. Your jaw is slack as he dangles right in front of you, his lips perfectly aligned with yours.
He says cockily, “You have a knack for getting in trouble.”
You groan, “Ugghhh Hanta.” You’re tempted to shove him just to see him swing from the ceiling, but you think better of it as you hear your fan creak.
He chuckles, “Fine fine, c’mere, MJ, n’ gimme a kiss.”
Sighing, you grab the sides of his face and tenderly kiss him. His lips are so warm and soft against yours, making you smirk. You knew that chapstick you bought for him last week was so worth it. He grips your hips and tugs you closer to him, making you yelp into his mouth. He swallows the sound whole as you tilt your head, the wet sounds of your kisses filling the air.
Once the ceiling fan groans like it’s on its last straw, you pull back and gaze up at it with wide eyes before looking at your boyfriend.
“Hanta!” You shriek.
He laughs breathily, “I know, I know. ‘M getting down now.”
You two spend the rest of the night cleaning up your living room. Hanta insisted that you sit down and relax, and you tried to really, took a shower, did a face mask and everything. But your poor pookie desperately needed help with ordering his comics by universe and release date. And the entire time, he was yapping off your ear about how cool he is.
Despite your attempts to humble him, you can’t help the smile permanently tattooed across your lips every time you think about your kiss, and more importantly, your very cool boyfriend.
their omega
જ⁀➴ chapter five: WHO TOLD THE COMMISSION?!?!?!!
alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆。°✩ — angst, tsukauchi appearance, hanta's in pre-rut, smau + fic, 2.7k words
m.list
a/n: 'household🏡' gc from your pov + '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov
fic underneath smau
You set the tea on the kotatsu and sit opposite Tsukauchi. You notice the lines etched into his skin, that tired smile. You pour his tea and then your own. You both sit in silence for a few minutes, sipping your warm beverage and avoiding each other’s gaze. You see him looking around the house, though you’re uncertain what for.
At last, he clears his throat and says, “So, tell me, how did you happen to meet four of Japan’s most prestigious pro heroes, Miss…?”
“L/n,” you fill in for him. “Y/n L/n.” He nods and pulls out a notepad from his chest pocket. With a click of his pen, he scribbles down your name.
You chuckle nervously as you say, “Is this formal questioning or?”
“Yes,” he says sternly. He looks up from his pad at you expectantly.
You take a deep breath in and say, “I’d like to wait until someone gets home before answering your questions if that’s okay.” He nods and leans back, taking another sip of his tea. You continue, “They shouldn’t be too long.”
For the next ten minutes, you try to make light conversation with the detective, but nothing seems to stick. You don’t watch the news or care for the latest hero updates, he doesn’t know much about the books you're reading. Luckily, the rattling of keys and clicking of the door saves you from bringing up the weather.
You ask him to wait as you leave the warmth of the shitagake and head to the entrance hall. You watch Denki fumble with his boots and trip up the platform.
“Are you okay?” You say as you come close to him. He nods frantically and gives you a quick hug.
“Sorry about all of this,” he mumbles into your ear before pulling away. You reassure him that it’s okay and lead him to the living room.
Upon entering, Denki bows to Tsukauchi who is now standing. The two men shake hands before sitting around the low table. You duck off to get Denki a teacup, leaving them alone.
Denki stutters, “S-so, what are you doing here, Tsukauchi-kun?” The dark-haired man looks at the blond with an unrelenting eye.
He clicks his pen and says, “I was hoping you’d be around. I’m here to investigate your involvement with the Shibuya underground omega auctions.”
The blond chuckles nervously. He looks up at you as you place a cup down in front of him and start to pour him tea. He thanks you before returning his gaze to Tsukauchi.
“Um,” he starts. “Yea, I was investigating the Shibuya omega auctions for work, you know?” Tsukauchi nods as he writes that down. You place the teapot down and take a sip of your tea. It’s gone cold now.
You contemplate brewing more tea, but you can see the tension in Denki’s shoulders. Maybe you should stay, you think. You place a reassuring hand on his knee beneath the table. He gazes back at you with wide eyes. You give him a small nod and see the slightest relaxation of his posture.
The detective interrupts your moment by saying, “I’m afraid I don’t know. What kind of investigative work were you doing, Chargebolt?”
Denki rubs the back of his neck as he says, “Just the usual, you know? Reconnaissance.” Tsukauchi nods.
“No engagement from you?” He questions, pen tip paused.
Your alpha shakes his head. “No. Monoma, uh, Phantom Thief and I were undercover. Just observing.” You watch as Tsukauchi scribbles and then takes a sip of his tea.
You’re about to apologise for it being too cold when he says, “And so is that how you met Miss L/n here.” He points to you with the end of his pen. Denki chuckles shortly as he leans over and wraps an arm around you. He draws you into his side protectively. You whine a little at his sudden affection and look up at him with big eyes. He gazes at you briefly before sighing.
He says, “Unfortunately, yes. There’s no use in denying it.” Your alpha squeezes your shoulder before continuing, “I met Miss L/n when I first started investigating the auctions.” Denki looks down at you with pleading “play along eyes”.
You nod and say, “Yes.” You place a hand on the blond’s chest and pout as you continue, “I was kidnapped only a few days after landing in Japan by omega sellers. My time with them was… regrettable.” You look down as those memories flood back to you.
With a sharp inhale, you say, “I met Chargebolt when I was being prepared for auction.”
Denki hums in response and says, “You have to understand, the little bee was so frightened and afraid. She had nowhere to go. And when the opportunity came up, I decided to take her in. Who knows what those other alphas would have done with her, you know? She’s safe here.” You’ve shifted even closer to Denki as he spoke. Now, your head is resting on the side of his chest, nestled beneath his arm. You sniffle as you build on what the blond has said.
“Yes. Yes, I am. The thought of being bought by someone else I—.” Partially fake-partially real tears well in your eyes as you raise your hand to your face. “S-sorry,” you mumble. Denki wraps you in a warm hug, rubbing your back and muttering into your hair that it’s going to be okay.
After a couple of minutes, you gently nudge Denki’s chest with your hands. He moves back, giving you some space to breathe. He thumbs your tears away and tenderly kisses you on the forehead. The gesture makes you smile a downturned, sad smile.
You take a shaky breath in and continue, “Denki an-and all the guys have-have been s-so supportive of-of me. A-and I’m-I’m proud to be t-their omega.” You tear up at the end, burying your face back into your alpha’s chest. If you could only see the expression on his face… He’s smiling so warmly, sincerely hearing your words. He hopes that you aren’t lying about that last part. And you aren’t. And you intend to tell him that later.
“I see,” Tsukauchi says quietly. You can hear the scratching of his pen tip on paper permeating the spaces between your tears and sniffles.
Denki kisses your hair and then says, “If it’s okay, Tsukauchi-kun, I’m just gonna take Miss L/n out to get some fresh air.”
The detective shakes his head and drawls, “No that’s fine. This interrogation is over. I hope your future reconnaissance proves successful. I don’t expect any further direct intervention from you though.” He gives Denki a pointed look to which the blond nods.
He laughs nervously and says, “Of course not. I’ll see you out.” He mutters to you something about being right back and you nod, choking on a sob. He quickly kisses your cheek and gets up with Tsukauchi. You watch their figures become smaller as they near the entrance hall. You take some deep breaths, calming yourself down from your emotional performance.
You wish you could say that was all a lie… But it wasn’t. You really do enjoy being the boys’ omega now and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Sniffling, you place the tea cups back on the tray and take them to the kitchen. You place them in the sink and rinse them, leaving the kitchenware to the side for washing tonight.
You’ve just finished blowing your nose when Denki waltzes into the kitchen, a shit-eating grin plastered across his handsome face.
“That was great!” He exclaims as he walks over to you. He lifts you and twirls you around in his arms, making you giggle and shriek. Denki puts you back down but keeps his hands on your waist.
He continues, “Seriously, I didn’t know you were such a good actor, babe.” You playfully slap his chest as you laugh. He draws you back into his warm embrace and nuzzles your ear with his nose. His head dips into the crook of your neck, getting a good whiff of your sweet scent. You do the same. His tangy scent makes you purr. Without thinking, you begin to rub your scent glands against his, scenting him. The action draws a purr out of his chest, soothing you.
He whispers into your ear, “You are proud to be ours though, right?” Your purring becomes louder with his words.
You say into his skin, “I didn’t lie, Denki. I’m happy and proud to be with you all.” He hums and kisses the shell of your ear.
You two hold each other for a little, just enjoying the other’s arms and presence. You spend the rest of the afternoon making lunch together — don’t think for a second that this grown man can cook, you are 100% doing all of the work — and cuddling on the couch. You even go on a neighbourhood walk together, holding hands and talking about whatever comes to your mind.
That night, Denki brags like there’s no tomorrow about his refined lying skills and your epic crying. His “eat shit” enthusiasm makes you laugh. You’re giggling to yourself as you fry mushrooms, turning them every so often. Their fragrance is like curling tendrils wrapping around the beams and benches of the kitchen.
At last, dinner is served. You are proud of yourself as you set the meal down on the table. This is the first time you’ve cooked for the boys since arriving.
You take off your apron and come back over to the table, finding your plate and bowl already full of food. The sight makes you chuckle softly. Hanta tugs you down beside him by the wrist. He’s been awfully on edge these past few days, and his scent has become even more intense, letting you know his rut will be soon. Admittedly, you’re nervous for when it hits.
You eat mindlessly, not paying attention to what you’re putting in your mouth as you think over what it might be like when it finally happens. He’s been incredibly restrained and respectful during his pre-rut, and you’re hoping that behaviour will continue. The boys notice your daze. Under the table, Hanta squeezes your thigh (not your knee pookie, not your knee). He groans at the soft flesh so tender and pliable beneath his grasp. His sudden touch makes you jump, catching everyone’s attention.
He clears his throat and says with a strangled voice, “You right?” He points at your meal with his chopsticks. “That’s the third time you’ve dropped the same piece of tofu.” You shake your head, still very much aware of how Hanta’s hand hasn’t moved an inch. Your eyes are wide as you flick your gaze up and down, signalling to the cause of your surprise.
You say, “I’m fine. Just thinking.” You bob your leg once, hoping that he catches your meaning. But he seems completely oblivious to what’s set you on edge.
Sighing, you lean over and whisper into his ear, “Your hand.” He grunts and turns his head, your cheeks brushing.
“Sorry,” he mumbles as he removes his hand from your thigh. You pull back, your eyes are on him for a few moments before you return to eating your meal. The peace doesn’t last long, though. You can feel the vibrations of Hanta bouncing his leg up and down next to you. It begins to irritate you because he’s so close to you. Closer than you he was when you first sat down.
“Hanta,” you say. He looks up at you mid-slurp of his miso soup. You continue, “Can you stop moving your leg? It’s annoying.” He hums in response and stops bouncing his leg.
“Sorry,” he says again, quietly. You shake your head.
“It’s fine,” you reassure him.
After dinner, Hanta helps you clean up the table. He washes the dishes while you dry them. You can make out his taut muscles beneath his loose-fitting shirt. The way these flex, the veins in his clenched jaw. Maybe you should have asked Eijiro to help you out instead.
“Sorry,” you say suddenly. He drops the plate he’s washing in the sink, making you flinch. He glances at you, his brow creased.
“For what?” He almost growls.
You start strong but end up mumbling, “For making you so uncomfortable.” You avoid his gaze, focusing on his gloved hands caressing the suds off of the plate. He chuckles derisively. The sound is harsh to your ears; it has you biting the side of your lip as you take the plate from him.
He grunts, “It’s not your fault.”
You shake your head, towelling the wet ceramic. “I can go if—”
You barely register as Hanta moves and traps you against the kitchen bench. His hands are planted on either side of you. Only the plate you hold against your chest separates your bodies. He leans down and rests his forehead against yours.
“The last thing I want you to do is go.” You whine as his nose brushes yours. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath fanning across your lips. Your eyes are wide open as you stare at him, unsure of how you want things to play out. Is he going to kiss you? You think. If he does, would you be opposed to that? You don’t know.
“Hanta,” you say, pulling back from him. You shake your head at him. “I don’t want to.” He groans at your words and backs off.
“I know I know,” he mumbles. “Sorry, babe.” You laugh it off and let him know that it’s okay, that you understand.
As you walk out of the kitchen, you notice the boys lingering in the hallway. Denki admires one of the wall paintings while Eijiro squeezes an irritated Katsuki’s bicep. You raise your brow at them as you stop behind Denki.
“Were you spying on us?” You say, trying to conceal your smirk. Denki and Eijiro feign ignorance but Katsuki is as blunt as ever.
“Just making sure he doesn’t try anything funny,” he grumbles. You nod and thank them for looking out for you before skipping off to your room, a big grin on your face from their protectiveness. That’s one of the nice things about having several alphas. They’re all so protective of you. Ready to intervene the moment you feel uncomfortable. You giggle as you shut your door behind you.
taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06 @kksmush
their omega
જ⁀➴ chapter four: stray kitty
alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆。°✩ — talk of ruts and heats, they take care of you, smau + fic, 3k words
m.list
a/n: texts to eiji from your pov + '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov + this chapter is written from personal experience (unfortunately)
fic underneath smau
Smiling, you put your phone in the pocket of Eijiro’s hoodie and finish lacing up your sneakers.
The boys all left this morning so it’s just been you since eleven. These neighbourhood walks of yours have become something of a habit. They aren’t very long, around 25 minutes. Just enough time to get some fresh air and breathe before you start to feel unsafe or miss the boys. You’ve grown much closer to them over the past month. Now, you are comfortable with their affection and protectiveness, which used to scare you.
You put on your cap before stepping out the front door and locking it. You walk down the driveway and slip out through the gate. Hitting the street, you stick to the footpath as Eijiro always advises.
As you walk, you wonder what the boys want to talk to you about tonight. If it’s about babies, you might lose it. But you don’t think it is. You might be closer to them, but you aren’t that close just yet. Maybe they want to talk about new sleeping arrangements, you think. Or someone’s birthday is coming up.
You’re back home before you realise it. Shutting the gate behind you, you begin walking up to the house when you spot a small, white figure on the path. You take tentative steps toward it, unsure of how to proceed. Upon nearing it, you see that it’s a stray cat. Somehow, it got into your front yard. You crouch down a foot away from it.
The small cat watches you with big green eyes. It then returns to licking its paw, not paying you any attention.
“What’re you doing here, kitty?” You coo to it as you extend your hand toward it. It looks up at you, the space around its eyes twitching. The cat’s nose bobs up and down as it sniffs the back of your hand.
And then, you scream as you pull your hand back. Blood pools to the surface of your soft skin, torn by such a vicious predator. You choke out a sob as you look down at your hand. Your mind is blank. Only the pain of this sudden attack throbs throughout your body.
You watch in a daze as the cat perks up and suddenly darts past you. The space on the path where the cat was sitting is replaced in seconds by black house slippers.
You tilt your head back and watch as Katsuki crouches down to you. He grabs your wrist harshly and brings your wound close to his face. You yelp out and begin to sob as he examines the bite.
He lets go of your wrist and your hand falls in your lap. You sniffle as he helps you up and leads you to the house, his muscular arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. He squeezes the tip of your shoulder as you stumble into the house.
You’re not too sure what’s happening around you. All you know is the stinging pain shooting up your arm. It burns, blazing hot, filthy. You can’t focus on anything else.
And then a searing pain, wet and cool. You hiss out as you blink, tears falling down your cheeks. Katsuki’s holding your hand in his much larger veiny one. He’s holding a wet cotton ball with tweezers and dabs your wound.
You whine at the stings following his dabs. He looks up from your hand, red eyes staring into your teary ones. He puts down the tweezers and grabs a box of tissues on the kitchen table. He holds the box for you as you pluck out a couple and wipe your eyes.
He continues to clean your wound, grumbling every so often about how dumb you are to try and pat a stray cat. You’ve calmed down now as he bandages your hand. His skin feels rough to the touch, a shock to your fairly delicate hands.
You whine a little at the pull of the bandage. And then he’s grabbing all of the supplies and telling you to stay seated. You nod and your eyes follow his figure out of the kitchen. You gaze at your bandaged hand. It aches. Twinges of pain stutter down your forearm as you raise your hand to your face, admiring Katsuki’s handiwork.
He’s done a really good job, you think. Being a pro hero must mean you get used to this. He stalks back in and comes to stand beside you.
He looks down at you as he says, “We’re going to the local clinic.” You shake your head and start to protest, but he cuts you off. He leans down and wraps his arm around your torso, hands in your sweaty armpits, and pulls you up.
You whimper as he lifts you and sets you down on unsteady feet. You fall forward into his hard chest as he releases you from his hold. He catches you with an arm around your back and one on the back of your neck.
“Gonna need a shot after getting bit by that thing,” he grumbles. You shake your head against his chest and wrap your arms around him. You appreciate how Katsuki doesn’t push you away or yell at you. He just holds you and lets you hold him for the next few minutes.
Several stray tears prickle your eyes and soak into Katsuki’s skull t-shirt. You inhale his sweet-smoky scent and it puts you at ease. The tension in your muscles gradually fades as you stand there.
At last, Katsuki nudges you and tells you again that you have to go to the local clinic. You nod reluctantly and obey as he drives you to the clinic and puts your name down. He sits with you as you wait, furiously typing away on his phone.
Within a few minutes, your phone is blowing up with text messages from your alphas. You gently tap Katsuki on the arm and ask him if he told them. He mutters that he had to, and you hum in response. You pull out your phone and respond to their worried messages, letting them know that you are fine and that Katsuki has taken good care of your wound.
By the one-hour mark, he’s absolutely restless. You watch his foot tap the floor for a few minutes before you point it out. He grumbles something about the doctors taking too long as he stops tapping his foot. His concern makes you smile. His phone buzzes and he looks down at it.
“Shitty hair is on his way. Dunceface finishes in 20 so he’ll be over soon. And tapeface is on till 7 but he’s tryna get out of it,” Katsuki grunts. You nod and reassure him that they don’t all need to come to see you. He shrugs and mutters under his breath, “I’d be worried too if I wasn’t with you.” You nudge his shoulder playfully and grin.
He grumbles, “The fuck?” You shake your head, still smiling.
When Eijiro arrives, you’re resting your head on a flushed Katsuki’s shoulder. Your eyes are closed and your breathing has slowed down considerably. The redhead runs over to you two.
Seeing you resting so peacefully, he whispers, “Is she asleep?”
“No,” you groan as you crack a smile. You scrunch your eyes shut before fluttering them open, revealing your worried-looking alpha peering down at you. You sit up properly and tell him that you’re fine. He nods and asks if you need anything. You cast a glance Katsuki’s way and see that familiar frown on his face.
You look back at Eijiro and ask him if he could get you some water. He nods and asks the blond if he wants anything.
“I’ll get the water. You sit,” Katsuki grumbles as he stands up and points to the now-empty seat. Eijiro nods and takes a seat. He wraps a warm arm around you and pulls you in close.
You look down reflexively, noticing that he’s still in his hero pants. When you gaze up, you catch the back of your angry blond stalking out of the clinic.
As you wait for him to return, you show Eijiro your hand. He grasps your fingers like they’re made of glass and places delicate kisses on your bandage. The gesture brings heat to your cheeks; a recognisable redness.
It’s not long before Katsuki comes back with a few bottles of water and snacks in hand. He dumps the haul on the redhead’s lap before twisting the cap of a water bottle and giving it to you. You take it with your good hand and thank him. You bring it to your lips and saviour the refreshing liquid.
Katsuki sits down on your other side and hand-feeds you pocky sticks. You insist that you can do it yourself but he’s not hearing any of it, shoving the tip of another pocky between your open lips.
Shortly, Denki rushes through the front door of the clinic, stumbling and almost tripping over a young child. Katsuki groans and motions the klutzy alpha over to where you’re sitting. He comes over to you and pulls you into a big cuddle.
He rambles, “Are you okay? Oh my God, I was so worried about you! I wish I could have come earlier but there was this old lady and—”
“Denki,” you cut him off. He pulls back and looks down at you. His eyebrows are furrowed and a pout is on his full lips. You shake your head and tell him that you’re fine. He nods and sits on the floor, just in front of your legs. It makes you giggle, the way he’s perched in front of you like a guard dog. You breathe out, smiling, and accept another pocky from Katsuki.
You don’t have to wait much longer for your name to be called out. The boys follow you into the consultant room and stand awkwardly in the corner as you take a seat and explain to the doctor what happened. They prescribe you a course of antibiotics and tell you to wait for the nurse to get a tetanus shot.
You shuffle out of the room and walk down the hall, sitting opposite the nurse’s room. The boys start arguing over who gets to go in the room with you and hold your hand when the blue door in front of you opens and the nurse calls you in.
You stand up and start walking toward them, very much aware of your followers. Once you get to the door, you turn around and reassure the boys that you can get the injection on your own.
They seem sceptical so you give them your biggest pleading eyes and softest pout as you say, “Please.” Katsuki nods reluctantly and backs off, your other alphas following suit. You sit down on the chair and greet the nurse.
They confirm with you that you’re getting a tetanus shot before grabbing it from the fridge at the back of the room. They say to you, “Protective, huh?”
You sigh, “Yea, but they mean well.” The nurse nods and places a kidney dish with the injection on a nearby overbed table.
“They must love you very much,” they say as they prepare the needle. Their words make you gulp. Love? You didn’t think so. Not yet anyway. The nurse tells you there will be a sting and there is one, but you grit your teeth and tough it out.
Stepping out of the room, your alphas come bolting up to you. Hanta arrived at some point and now holds your unharmed hand. Denki grabs onto your elbow while Eijiro squeezes your shoulder and Katsuki pats your head. They ask you if you’re okay and you purr at their tender affection.
You can’t help it! It just slipped out, honestly. Your bandaged hand — that happens to be your dominant hand, most unfortunately — flies up to your mouth as your eyes go wide. You can hear the blood rushing in your veins, the lively race you’ve just kicked off to heat your cheeks.
You stutter, “S-sorry.” You cast your gaze downwards as you leave the clinic, too ashamed to lock eyes with any of your alphas. You miss the way they glance at each other, smirking proudly that you’re warming up to them. The drive home is uneventful and Katsuki the boys make you dinner that night, and every other meal for the next week.
Their care is the créme de la créme of any care provided by a partner. Anything you need — and I mean ANYTHING — it’s right there. Glass of water, a book to read, help to change your socks. Someone is always at home to keep you company and make sure that you’re alright.
They even offered to help you shower at one point, which you turned down (sadly). The boys treat you like a baby as you recover from your injury.
Today is the final day for your antibiotics (yay!). Right now, Katsuki has your elbow propped up on the kitchen table as he removes the bandage from your hand. You look down at the wound, seeing scabs dotting your skin.
You smile cheerily at him and ask him if you can stop bandaging it. He inspects your wound one last time before sighing and agreeing. You chortle and lean over the table, cuddling him. The sudden display of affection has Katsuki’s sharp eyes soft and round with surprise.
At first, he pats your back hesitantly. But after a few seconds, his calloused palms relax into the fabric of his skull t-shirt you’re wearing. You release him and quickly peck him on the cheek before running out of the kitchen and grabbing your phone. You snap a pic of your mostly-healed hand and send it to the group chat.
That night after dinner, Eijiro asks you if you can have that talk you were meant to have earlier that week. You nod and he asks you to remain seated at the table with your other alphas.
Soon, Eijiro comes back holding a Deku calendar. You point to the hero of choice, and he groans about it being the only one left on the shelf. You giggle and shrug.
“So,” you start. “What’s this all about? You didn’t call a family meeting to show me a calendar, did you?” Eijiro laughs nervously, eyeing the other alphas.
Katsuki mutters, “Yea, he did.”
“Oh,” you say. You look up at Eijiro expectantly. He hesitates for a moment before flicking it open to March.
He explains, “We wrote in here our rut cycles so we can keep track of it.” He points to the writing in the little boxes. “This is Hanta’s pre-rut week,” he continues. His finger trails across the glossy page. “And then this is his rut week.” Eijiro then flips the page to April.
“So in April,” he starts. His gaze flickers to your face, trying to gauge your initial reaction and failing miserably. “U-um yea, in April, Denki and I both rut.” He flips the page before continuing, “And then in May, Bakubro ruts.”
Eijiro then flicks the pages back to March. He says, “And you can add your heat cycle in here too.” You hum in response.
Rut cycles and heat cycles, you think. Not what you wanted to be thinking about right now. But with Hanta’s coming up in a few weeks, you must know. It’s not an easy topic to talk about, but you’re getting so much closer to them now. They’ve been nothing but good to you. And you don’t have to return that favour in that way until you’re ready, right?
You exhale as you say, “Thanks for telling me, guys. Yea, if you have a pen, I’ll add mine in.” You chuckle dryly as Denki fumbles with a pen from his pocket. You thank him as you take it from him and slide the calendar from Eijiro toward you. You flip through the months, flicking the pen between your fingers.
When was the last time you were in heat? You ask yourself. You flip to the end of the calendar and take note of the date you came to Japan. You were kidnapped merely days later and you went into heat during that time. It was the worst heat you’ve ever experienced.
You push those thoughts away, eager to avoid talking about that time in your life for now. You hum as you do the math.
Finally, you say, “My last heat was when I was still… with the dealer and um, the girls. It could be anywhere from early April to May.” You drag the pen across the scribbled squares, taking note of how the final days of Denki’s rut crossover with the beginning of Eijiro’s. You glance up to find their eyes on you. You can see that they want to know more from the curiosity burning in their eyes.
You draw a bracket from early April to May, not missing how Katsuki’s rut is supposed to start bang on the 1st of May. You say quietly as you label your heat, “I’ll tell you more about it later.”
Denki chimes in, “Promise?” You laugh nervously and promise him. You then place the pen down on the table and close the calendar.
You clear your throat before saying, “And just to clarify, you don’t… expect anything from me, do you? Not until I’m ready to…” You give Eijiro wide eyes and he chuckles. They all do.
Hanta places his hand on your arm and gives it a gentle squeeze. He says, “Of course not. Don’t worry about us. We’ll wait until you’re ready.” You give him a smile at him, grateful for his reassuring words. They all nod at you and Eijiro hangs the calendar on a wall in the kitchen.
Later that night, as you lie in bed, you think over the dates the boys had marked. You think over how it could all play out. Even though they don’t expect anything from you, would you want to do something for them? What will they be like when rutting? Could they control themselves during that time? Such questions lingered in your mind, lulling you into a dreamless sleep.
taglist - @qyuin @nervoussangel @xxdiaqiaoxx @misscaller06 @kksmush
their omega
જ⁀➴ chapter three: shopping!
alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆。°✩ — fluff, hurt/comfort (the boys make it up to you), mentions of pornographic moans in jest, smau + fic, 2.3k words
m.list
a/n: '🌽⭐️s' gc from denki's pov
fic underneath smau
You wake up to knocking on your door. Groaning, you stretch and roll out of bed. You stumble over to the door while rubbing your eyes and yawning. You open it, revealing your favourite alpha. He grins down at you with those sharp whites. You blink and smile lazily up at him.
“Hey sleepyhead,” Eijiro says.
“Hey,” you mumble. You step back and open the door wider for him to come in. It still amazes you how he towers over you. You notice he’s in a red hoodie with a sleeveless jacket over the top and track pants. He looks so cosy, and he smells so good.
He hovers by the door and says, “How are you after last night?”
You shrug, “Fine.” Eijiro steps closer to you but you step back reflexively. You don’t want him close to you right now, even if he’s nothing but kind since you met. You wonder whether he would ever get angry at you the way Katsuki had.
Your step back doesn’t go unnoticed. Upon seeing it, Eijiro stops moving forward. It hurts him that his omega is still afraid of him. He clears his throat and says, “I’m really sorry about Bakugou’s behaviour yesterday. He was really worried about you-we all were. He’s just not very good at expressing how he feels.” You nod and look down at your feet.
“Are you hungry?” he asks. You gaze up and see the little crease between his short brows. You’re open your mouth to say ‘no’ when your tummy grumbles. Your eyes widen at the sound and you can feel the blood instantly rushing to your cheeks. Eijiro laughs and it’s the most precious sight. He laughs so whole-heartedly, it puts you at ease. You laugh a bit with him, your embarrassment evident in your flaming face.
He chuckles, “Come on. Why don’t we get you some food? And then after we can go shopping, how does that sound?” You calmed down as he spoke. Now, you tilt your head to the side.
“Shopping?” You question.
Eijiro nods and says, “Yea, the guys and I took today off so we could all spend some time together.” Seeing your pout, he quickly continues, “To shop. Because you don’t have anything.” You hum in response. You tell him you’ll meet him in the kitchen and he nods, shutting the door and giving you some space. You freshen yourself up in the bathroom before heading to the kitchen.
When you walk in, you see your alphas leaning over the kitchen table, whisper-shouting at each other. They look up at you with wide eyes upon seeing you. Denki immediately stands up and comes over to you.
“Y/n! We missed you at dinner last night!” He exclaims. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug. Your hands press against his surprisingly solid chest as he squeezes you tight.
You whine quietly, “I can’t breathe.” The chirpy blond pulls back and smiles at you with his hands firmly planted on your upper arms. He leans down and quickly kisses the side of your forehead. You can hear your heart thumping loudly at his sudden affection.
You almost whisper to him, “What’s all this for?”
He pouts, “We missed you! We don’t want our omega to still be upset, okay?” He wraps one arm around your shoulders and leads you over to the kitchen table. Hanta shifts over and pats the cushion next to him. You give him a small smile as you sit down next to him, and Denki sits next to you so you’re sandwiched between them. Opposite, Katsuki and Eijiro sit.
You look at them and see Eijiro smiling at you encouragingly while Katsuki frowns and avoids your gaze. He suddenly grunts and glares at the man across from him.
“The fuck was that for, tape face?!” He growls.
“Don’t be such a dick, Bakubro,” Hanta shrugs.
“No swearing at the table,” Eijiro scolds them as he places a plate and utensils in front of you. You thank him and look down at your plate. You then gaze at the mountain of pancakes in the centre of the table. It smells heavenly, triggering a low grumble from your stomach.
Denki giggles, “Did you hear that? It’s like a little lion is roaring.” You pout at him as he laughs.
“Don’t be so mean,” you mumble. He’s wiping tears from his eyes as he apologises.
You watch as Eijiro starts dishing out pancakes. He places two on your plate and goes back for a third.
You raise your hands, palms towards him as you say, “No no, that’s okay. I’m not that hungry anyway.” His red eyes go wide for a moment before he cracks a smile and places another pancake on your plate.
Hanta points to your plate as he says, “You don’t have to pretend.”
You laugh nervously and whisper an “Okay” before looking at the toppings on the table. You grab the maple syrup and shake it before opening the lid and watching the sweet syrupy goodness drizzle onto your pancakes.
You’re shocked out of your thoughts by a moan from beside you. You look at Denki who's chewing happily on his pancakes. He swallows and licks his lips before looking over at you.
He smirks, “They’re really good. You should hurry up and give them a try.” You grin at him and nod, closing the cap of the maple syrup. You continue adding toppings to your pancakes as Denki sighs and moans every so often.
He catches your eyes mid-sigh and says, “You know, Katsuki makes the best pancakes! He actually made these for you.” You glance over to Katsuki who is hunched over the table, devouring his pancakes. He doesn’t pay any attention to you (he’s actually focusing solely on you but he doesn’t want you to know). You nod at Denki’s words, seeing Katsuki’s standoffish behaviour.
You start cutting into your pancakes when once again, the peaceful morning atmosphere is interrupted by another one of Denki’s loud moans.
Hanta sighs, “Denki, bro. They’re not that good.”
The blond pouts and says, “Shut up, doofus. They are that good.”
Hanta chews as he says, “You sound like you’re in a porno.”
Your eyes widen as you take your first bite of your pancakes. You sigh in pleasure. The fluffiness melts on your tongue while the sweetness nips and tickles your insides. It inundates your tastebuds.
You haven’t tasted anything this delicately divine in months. The table has their eyes on you. Even that stubborn one opposite you. You look up, redness returning to your face.
You raise a hand to cover your mouth as you say, “They really are that good.” They laugh at you, Denki calling “I told you so” as they do.
You continue to eat in silence (except for Denki’s pornographic moans). Once Katsuki finishes, he grumbles as he starts cleaning up the table. You’re the last to finish. When you do, the angry blond is by your side grabbing your plate.
You gaze up at him, syrup glistening on your lips as you lick it away. You thank him for making you pancakes and he grunts in response, never looking at you once. Maybe he really is bad at expressing how he feels, you think.
After breakfast, Denki gives you a pair of his track pants to wear (cause he has the most slutty hips out of them all). They fit well enough besides from being too long on you. You then change into another of Eijiro’s shirts and fix your hair.
You meet your alphas in the entryway, and you slip on your shoes from when you first arrived. You all pile into Katsuki’s car and he drives you to the mall.
You can feel your mood lifting as you walk around the shops. How long has it been since you’ve done this? It feels so… normal compared to what your life has been like lately. You find yourself smiling more and more as you walk into various shops, and the boys gossip about your change in mood when you’re not looking.
At first, you mainly stick with Eijiro or Denki as you’re unsure of browsing alone. In every clothes store you walk into, your alphas fight over what they think you would look best in, seldom agreeing on one garment. The sight freaks you out at first but you soon learn that that’s how they are. And it starts to make you giggle.
You end up leaving them crowded around a table of jeans to look at a display that caught your attention. You look at the shirts and shorts sprawled out on the table, picking up those you like one at a time to admire them.
You hum to the song playing in the background as you continue browsing, picking up pieces that you think would look good on you. At some point, the boys realise that you’ve wandered off and go into panic mode. They spread out in the huge store to look for you.
They find you fairly quickly, being pro heroes n’ all. Eijiro takes your armful of clothes and heads to the fitting rooms with you. He places the clothes in the stall before telling you he’ll be waiting outside. You nod and start trying on the clothes.
You don’t like most of them. They fit funny, the mirror makes you look fat, and the puffy sleeves give you man shoulders. You sigh after taking off another shirt that’s far too tight on the chest area. You sit down on the little stool provided and groan at the thought of putting all of these clothes back on their hangers.
After two hours of clothes shopping, you end up with one bag of a few clothes that Katsuki paid for and is carrying.
You walk together, Katsuki in front, Denki by your side, and Eijiro and Sero behind you. Your legs are aching from all of the walking and standing you’ve been doing. You don’t have the pro-hero stamina the boys do. Denki leans down slightly as he points to the bag Katsuki’s carrying.
He says, “Don’t you want more?”
You shake your head before replying, “Most of them fit weird.” He hums in response. Without thinking, you gently tug on Denki’s long sleeve.
“Can-Oh, um,” you start. His nervous chuckles cut you off. He quickly reassures you that it’s fine, and you continue, “Can we sit down for a bit?”
Denki claps happily. He turns around to the pair behind you and says excitedly, “Ladies! Guess what time it is?!” Hanta shrugs while Eijiro sighs.
“It’s time to get manicures!!” Denki exclaims. You giggle at his enthusiasm.
On the way to the nail salon, Hanta groans about how embarrassing this is (but secretly, you think he likes it the most). Once you arrive, you are split up. You hum as you sit at the little counter, watching the nail technician clip your cuticles away.
As they start filing your nails, you look up and around the quaint salon. You notice how relaxed the boys seem. Except for Katsuki. Kinda. You can see him scowling and staring intently as the nail tech trims his nails. The sight warms your heart and makes you feel all fuzzy for some reason.
He doesn’t seem so bad, you think. You two aren’t exactly best buds, but you feel more comfortable with the prospect of getting to know him now.
When you get up to wash your hands at the basin, you run into Denki staring at the nail polish wall. You come up beside him and ask him what colour he’s going to choose.
“I always do black but, I’m thinking of doing silver this time,” he says. He grabs a dark grey-silver polish from the wall and asks you what you think. You tell him that you like it.
He grabs your hand, his touch warm. His skin is so milky, you think, as you stare at your hands. He places the bottle of nail polish next to your pointer finger and looks up at you expectantly.
He beams, “Look! We should get matching!” You chuckle and take the bottle from him, observing it and thinking his proposition over.
In the end, you two get matching polish. You’re giggling dumbly as you walk out, looking at each other’s hands and saying you should take a photo. The suggestion seems to set off light bulbs in Denki’s mind.
“A phone!” He exclaims. You shrug, and he turns around. He starts rambling to the other alphas about how they should get you a phone. Naturally, you protest this idea because you don’t want them to spend so much money on you (it makes you feel bad), but they insist. Something about keeping in touch or whatever.
You relent and let them take you to one of those enormous and overly bright tech stores. You wander around the store, following the boys to where all of the phones are. You see that they’re selling the phone you’ve been eyeing for months before you were kidnapped.
You signal to your pick and soon, you’re strolling out of the store with your new phone in your hands. You thank them for being so generous and kind to you before heading back to the house.
When you get back, you flop down on your bed and shut your eyes for a few minutes. You feel content to just lie there and think over everything that has happened today. How sweet everyone — even Mr Grumbles — has been to you. The thought of them arguing and of your manicures brings a smile to your face.
Eventually, you convince yourself to sit up and unpack everything Katsuki bought for you. You save your new phone for last. Giggling excited, you grab the box and begin carefully opening the packaging. You slot your SIM card in and of course, groan as you have to go ask someone for the WIFI password. Shortly, your new phone is all set up. You grin wide as you look down at it and ‘Hello’ stares back at you.
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OBVIOUSLY NOT FORCING BUT MORE SERO HANTA SMAUS PLEASE YOU SMAUS ARE SO GOOD I NEED MORE AND SERO IS HUZZ😔🤍
in which you didn't expect to like your dealer, but he keeps replying to your overly enthusiastic texts like it's normal.
fake dating wasn't on your holiday to-do list—until sero invited you home for tamales and chaos (3525 words)
you regretted this the moment you stepped out of the dormitory and into the sharp chill of mid-december air, a duffel bag hanging off one shoulder and your dignity already teetering on the edge. trailing beside you was hanta sero, practically vibrating with the smug energy of a man who had just talked his best friend into making the worst decision of her academic career.
and technically, he had.
somewhere between his mother's increasingly invasive matchmaking attempts and his inability to say the word "no" like a normal person, he'd decided the solution was to invent a girlfriend. and of course, of course, he'd chosen you.
"come on," he said now, as a cab idled at the curb, white exhaust curling into the crisp air like smoke from a slow-burning disaster. "tell me this won't be fun. just a little bit."
"i think i'm too emotionally aware to find this fun," you muttered, hoisting your bag into the trunk as he leaned beside you with his usual careless grace.
sero grinned—that unbothered, insufferably pretty grin that always made it harder to stay annoyed with him for long. "emotionally aware, huh? sounds like you're already getting into character."
you leveled him with a look. "if i'm your girlfriend, you're going to need to stop flirting like a golden retriever with a god complex."
"babe," he said, slipping into the backseat beside you with the kind of unearned confidence that should have come with a warning label, "flirting is literally how i survive in social settings. don't take this from me."
you stared out the window, hoping the freezing glass would cool the creeping warmth crawling up your neck. "we're not actually dating, hanta."
"right," he said, and he sounded amused, not wounded. "but we could be really good at it."
you didn't answer. he didn't press.
the cab pulled away from the dorms, and for a moment the silence between you was companionable, like it always had been. you'd known sero for years now—long enough to understand that his laid-back demeanor was as real as it was performative. he was the kind of person who made a room feel lighter just by being in it, but who also knew the weight of silence better than most people ever would.
he didn't make you feel like you had to be anyone but yourself. and that, unfortunately, was the root of the problem.
somewhere along the road from "we're just friends" to "please pretend to be my girlfriend so my mom stops trying to marry me off," things had started to shift.
not all at once. not obviously.
but they shifted.
now he was dozing beside you, his head tilted toward your shoulder, and every bump in the road made him inch closer. you should have nudged him off. you should have drawn the line.
but you didn't.
instead, you studied the soft lines of his face—the relaxed set of his mouth, the faint crease between his brows like his dreams were just a little too fast for his thoughts to catch—and you wondered what the hell you'd gotten yourself into.
by the time the cab slowed, the sun had dipped low, casting golden light over a neighborhood that looked far too idyllic to be real. sero's house was two stories of warmth and welcome: string lights curled along the porch railing, a wreath hung slightly crooked on the front door, and smoke drifted lazily from a chimney that promised something warm inside.
standing at the threshold was a woman with sharp eyes, a kind smile, and the unmistakable aura of someone who could both bake you cookies and emotionally destroy you in the same breath.
sero's mother.
you froze.
he didn't.
without hesitation, sero leaned in, brushing your hair behind your ear like it was the most natural thing in the world. his voice dipped just low enough for only you to hear. "smile like you love me."
then he reached for your hand.
his fingers, long and warm, laced effortlessly through yours.
you didn't pull away.
and that was the moment—standing at the edge of his childhood, your fingers locked in his, heart skipping in the kind of rhythm you weren't prepared for—that you realized you were in far more danger than you thought.
because part of you didn't want to let go.
the cab hadn't even rolled to a full stop before sero's mom was standing in front of it, arms crossed, eyes already locked onto her target like a seasoned general. you had seen pictures, sure—sero had shown you a few over lunch one day, swiping through images of his mom with an almost reverent fondness—but none of them did her justice.
she was radiant. that was the first word that came to mind. not in some soft, dreamy way, but in the sharp, unmistakable warmth of someone who had mastered the art of existing unapologetically. she had a scarf looped carelessly around her neck, dark hair pinned up with wisps escaping, and that immediate, unnerving energy unique to mothers who know everything before you say a word.
"hanta," she said brightly as you approached. "you took forever, mijo. i was about to call."
and then her eyes slid to you.
her whole face changed.
"qué linda," she said, stepping down toward you without hesitation. "you're even prettier than the pictures."
you opened your mouth to answer—say something polite, maybe even charming—but instead you were pulled into a hug so warm and familiar you forgot how to speak altogether.
she smelled like cinnamon and butter, like café and home. her arms wrapped around you without hesitation, solid and reassuring, and you blinked twice before realizing she wasn't letting go just yet.
she pulled back, hands on your shoulders, eyes scanning your face with curiosity. "how old are you, mija?"
"seventeen," you managed. "ua student. same class as hanta."
"top twenty," sero chimed from behind you, proud and useless.
his mom smiled wider. "good. you'll need that to keep up with him. he talks too much."
"i'm right here," sero said, offended.
"and what's your quirk, sweetheart?" she asked, guiding you inside like she owned every molecule of the house—which she probably did.
"just a luck quirk," you replied. "it's not anything big or flashy."
"flashy's overrated," she said. "flashy gets you on magazine covers, but smart keeps you alive. hanta could use some of that balance."
sero made a wounded noise. "i'm right here."
you stepped into the house and tried not to gape. it was warm and lived-in, with mismatched furniture and soft lights, and framed photos in every direction. you passed at least three different versions of baby sero—one with cake on his face, one dressed as a shark, and one in a tiny suit looking like he'd lost a bet.
you were immediately ushered to the couch, where sero flopped down beside you like he'd done this a thousand times. his arm stretched along the back of the cushions behind you, easy and casual, but you felt the heat of it like a brand against your neck.
his mom sat in the armchair across from you, one leg crossed, hands folded, expression deceptively pleasant.
"so," she said. "how long have you two been together?"
"six months," you and sero answered in unison.
your eyes met. you both smiled.
it was practiced, but god—it didn't feel like a lie.
"how'd you meet?" she asked next.
sero leaned forward like he was telling a secret. "training. she beat up kaminari. i've never recovered."
you tried not to laugh. "he followed me around for a week."
"i was courting you."
"you were loitering near vending machines."
"i was being persistent," he corrected. "it worked, didn't it?"
his mom watched you both, eyes narrowed just enough to make you sweat.
"and what do you like about my son?" she asked you, suddenly.
your mouth went dry.
sero glanced sideways, surprised.
but the answer came easy.
"he's reliable. and funny. and he listens—really listens. like you're the only person in the room."
you could feel sero's eyes on you, and the room felt warmer than it had a second ago.
"he's easy to be around," you said, a little softer now. "i feel like i can breathe near him."
a long silence stretched across the room.
then sero bumped your shoulder with his own, voice low. "you're not supposed to make me blush in front of my mom."
his mom smiled, pleased. "i like you."
you smiled back, because how could you not. "thank you."
"i made tamales," she said, rising to her feet. "sit tight. i'll get you a plate."
"do you need help—?" you started, half-standing.
"no, no. you're a guest. you sit and let yourself be adored."
she vanished into the kitchen with surprising speed.
the moment she was out of earshot, you collapsed sideways onto the couch.
"i blacked out," you whispered. "what did i even say?"
"that i'm amazing and you love being around me," sero said smugly.
you shot him a look.
he leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "also, you were adorable. you didn't have to go that hard. i almost forgot it was fake."
you didn't answer.
⊹ ࣪ ˖
dinner came after a comfortable lull in the afternoon—just enough time for you to grow used to the house's warmth, the quiet hum of kitchen sounds, and the sound of sero humming to himself as he helped his mom plate tamales. there was something undeniably domestic about it—watching him lean over the counter, sleeves pushed up, swiping a bit of masa from the corner of a dish with a grin when he thought no one was watching.
you caught yourself watching.
a little too long.
and when he turned around and caught your eye, offering you a wink that made your stomach stutter—you looked away, pretending to study the wall like it had secrets.
the house filled slowly with more noise, more feet, more voices. by the time dinner was ready, the table was surrounded by people—his siblings, all younger, all chaos incarnate. there were five in total, ranging from what looked like barely ten to maybe sixteen. all of them clearly adored sero, and all of them clearly had a thousand questions about you.
"are you really his girlfriend?" one of the younger girls asked, blinking up at you from her seat at the far end of the table.
sero, already sitting beside you, reached for your hand under the table without hesitation. "of course she is," he said easily. "she puts up with me. that's gotta mean something."
you glanced sideways, surprised by the way his thumb started tracing circles into your palm. his fingers were warm, his grip relaxed, like this was a habit and not a performance. your first instinct was to pull away—but you didn't. you let him hold on.
"do you like him?" one of the boys asked bluntly, somewhere between a dare and a test.
you looked over at sero, who was already looking at you.
and the smile that spread across his face wasn't teasing. it wasn't even smug.
it was soft.
"i do," you said honestly. "he's easy to like."
one of his sisters actually swooned.
their mother returned from the kitchen, a stack of warm plates balanced in her arms. "aye, look at you two," she said fondly, setting down the food. "you look like you've been married five years already."
sero snorted. "that's because she already tells me what to do."
"someone has to," you said, nudging his leg under the table.
his knee pressed into yours and didn't move.
the meal began in full, voices rising over each other, stories flying back and forth like birds across the table. tamales were unwrapped, passed down, devoured. rice and beans steamed in bowls at the center. someone spilled horchata and got teased for it for fifteen minutes straight.
sero kept his hand under the table the entire time.
sometimes on your knee. sometimes brushing your fingers. once, briefly, resting on your thigh with a touch so casual and confident you forgot how to breathe for a second.
"so how did you know?" his mom asked halfway through the meal, raising an eyebrow. "that you liked each other, i mean."
you blinked. "um."
sero didn't miss a beat.
"she made this face at me once," he said, totally serious. "during training. right after i got my ass handed to me. and i thought—yeah. i'd let her ruin my life."
you choked on a sip of water. "that's not what happened."
"you raised your eyebrow," he insisted, "like i was both impressive and pathetic. it was very motivating."
"you were bleeding."
"romance is about timing."
the table erupted in laughter.
"you're ridiculous," you muttered, but there was no bite to it. you felt lightheaded from smiling too much.
his younger sister leaned over the table toward you. "you make him less annoying," she said seriously. "he's, like, way less weird with you here."
"he's still weird," someone else muttered.
"hey," sero said, deeply offended. "i'm the glue of this household."
"you're the glitter glue," one of the boys shot back. "unnecessary and all over everything."
the conversation swirled, but it was warm. easy. you felt like you'd slipped into a rhythm you hadn't known you were missing. sero's family didn't make you feel like an outsider. if anything, they treated you like a permanent fixture—like they already liked you, just because he did.
and sero—he kept looking at you.
in the quiet moments between bites. when you laughed at something his brother said. when you wiped your fingers on your napkin and he passed you your drink like he'd already anticipated you'd reach for it.
"you're really good at this," you whispered during a lull, leaning in.
"at what?" he asked, voice low, chin tilted toward you.
"this," you said. "pretending."
his eyes flicked down to your mouth, just for a second.
"what can i say," he said quietly. "i'm something of an actor."
you snickered.
and then his mom called your name from across the table.
"you like dessert, mija?" she asked, already bringing out the plates.
you blinked twice before answering, forcing a smile. "of course. thank you."
sero didn't look away from you for a long time.
dinner had long ended. the noise had faded. sero's house, once pulsing with overlapping voices and clattering plates, now thrummed with a different kind of energy—low, contented, quiet.
his siblings had scattered, full-bellied and sugar-sticky, off to bedrooms and couches and wherever else they disappeared to in the evening. someone had turned on a dusty old playlist in the den, and the soft hum of vintage boleros curled through the walls like warmth that refused to die.
you stood in the hallway between the dining room and the back door, hovering in the in-between of things: of conversations and thoughts, of what was real and what had only started out that way.
you weren't sure what to do with your hands.
or your heart.
sero appeared beside you like he always did—quiet-footed and comfortably close, smelling faintly of soap and masa and something sweet from dessert you hadn't caught the name of. his sleeves were still pushed up, revealing his forearms, and you hated that you were looking at them. not because they weren't worth looking at—they were—but because it meant your guard was down. again.
"come on," he said softly. "balcony?"
you didn't answer. you just nodded and followed.
the air outside was sharp and clean. the kind of cold that wakes you up without being cruel. you wrapped your arms around yourself more out of instinct than discomfort. the balcony was small, with a windchime shaped like a lizard hanging from the overhang, and a view of soft suburban rooftops and yellow windows scattered like lanterns across the horizon.
you leaned against the wooden railing. he did the same.
neither of you spoke.
you were too full of the evening. of tamales and laughter. of too much touch under the table. of words you'd said with a smile that weren't lies—but weren't supposed to be true either.
the problem wasn't pretending.
the problem was that pretending didn't feel like pretending anymore.
you didn't know when it had changed. maybe it was gradual—each time he laced his fingers through yours without asking, or rested his hand on your thigh mid-story, or offered you a grin across the table that was so familiar, so soft, you forgot why you were here in the first place.
but it hit you now, standing beside him in the chill—this unshakable, irreversible knowledge:
you were in love with him.
god, you were in love with hanta sero.
not just in a surface-level, crush-colored way. not just in the i-like-how-he-makes-me-laugh way. it was deeper than that. older. something that had snuck in when you weren't looking and taken root so quietly you hadn't noticed until it was everywhere.
you were in love with the way he held space. with the way he listened without trying to fix you. with the way he let the world land on him lightly, and still carried it in both hands when it mattered.
you were in love with someone who didn't even know you weren't faking anymore.
you exhaled.
"you're quiet," he said, not looking at you. "regretting it already?"
you shook your head. "no. it's just... weird how easy it was. with your family."
he hummed. "they like you."
"they liked that i made you less annoying."
"that is the highest compliment in my house."
you smiled, faint. "they're sweet. loud, but sweet."
"you kept up fine."
"i think i blacked out for half of it."
"you were golden," he said, softer now. "you always are."
you turned toward him slowly.
the lights from the kitchen spilled faintly through the curtains behind you, catching just enough of his face for you to see how relaxed he looked. how present. how close.
you swallowed.
"hanta?"
he looked over at you, brows raised. "yeah?"
there was a beat of silence.
"i don't know how to lie to you," you said.
he blinked once.
then again, slower.
"what?"
"i mean," you continued, hands curling around the edge of the railing. "i've been trying. all day. and i thought i could. i thought i could pull it off—play the part, pretend—but then we got here, and your mom hugged me, and you touched my hand under the table, and i just... i don't know when it stopped being a bit."
his eyes searched your face like he was looking for something he'd already lost.
"hanta," you said again. "i'm in love with you."
his face froze.
the air between you seemed to still. the windchime didn't move. the whole world narrowed into this one pinpoint moment, bright and fragile and terrifying.
he stepped back—just barely.
"you don't have to keep pretending," he said. carefully. cautiously. "no one's watching anymore. you can drop it."
you stared at him.
"i'm not pretending," you said.
another beat. a sharp exhale.
his lips parted slightly. his brows furrowed, not in confusion, but in disbelief. in the kind of fear that came from wanting something too much and being afraid to reach for it.
"you're serious."
"i've never been more serious about anything in my life."
sero let out a long, shaky laugh. it cracked halfway through.
"say it again," he whispered.
"i'm in love with you."
and this time, you reached for him.
your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, and you felt the moment he melted—slow and overwhelmed, the way something melts that's been cold for too long.
"you've got to be kidding me," he muttered, leaning into your touch. "i thought—god, i thought i was the only one losing my mind over this."
you smiled, eyes stinging.
"you weren't."
"i've been in love with you since second year," he admitted, voice breaking a little. "you kissed my cheek that one time after i carried your books back from the nurse's office, and i nearly died. like, actual cardiac arrest."
"that was a year ago."
"welcome to my long, slow descent into insanity."
you laughed, quiet and ridiculous.
and then he kissed you.
it wasn't rushed. wasn't showy. it wasn't a fireworks-and-credits-roll kiss.
it was the kind that happened in doorways, in hallways, in quiet rooms where hearts beat too loud. the kind that changed nothing and everything all at once.
he kissed you like he meant it.
you kissed him like you'd been waiting your whole life to.
when you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours.
"you're real?" you whispered, breath catching.
"i better be," he said. "otherwise you've just confessed to a figment of your imagination."
you swallowed a grin.
his thumb traced your cheek.
"i thought this would end in disaster," he said quietly. "that pretending would ruin everything."
"and?"
"and now i don't want it to end at all."
you leaned in, bumping your nose against his.
"then it doesn't have to."
he smiled, and kissed you again.
not like he was pretending.
like he was home.
𝑴𝑯𝑨 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔' 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒇𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒔. 𝑷𝒕.𝟏!
I haven't really made any posts but I tried to be fun with the bio and names.
My man my man (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
sero hanta, my beloved...
⋆˚࿔ in the near future
when window shopping at the mall with your boyfriend hanta sero takes a unexpected turn
contains: f!reader, minor drug use, established relationship, fluff
authors note: this is shorter than i wanted it to be </3
word count: 1010
hanta doesn’t know how he ended up here.
it was supposed to be a casual saturday with this favorite girl in the world.
when you suggested that the two of you take a trip to the mall, mostly so you could window shop, —while he secretly kept a mental note of everything that caught your eye for later reference —he had no right to say no.
and when you also suggested taking the edibles that had been sitting at the bottom of the junk drawer for two days and eating them right before the mall trip his heart melted. he’s definitely with the right girl.
okay, so maybe hanta does know how he got here.
but this.. this is new, uncharted territory for him. for the both of you.
hanta adjusted his half slouched position, careful not to possibly mess up the intricate stitching on the cushions or accidently stain the elegant rug beneath his beat up adidas sambas.
the room was fairly spacious. beside him a wide full length mirror, was two thinner mirrors protruding from its side— which he (correctly) assumed was used to check yourself out from multiple angles. two lights hung from the top of the mirrors, shining down onto the pedestal in front the mirror like a dedicated spotlight.
before him was a white curtain. and behind it—
“hanta..” you called from behind the mysteriously alluring sheet, sounding unlawfully similar to a sorcerer casting a lovebound spell.
he blinked out of his over observant trance, skin glowing warm as a reaction to your voice.
fifteen minutes ago, he was sharing a beautifully buttery soft pretzel with you. ten minutes ago you pointed out a particular shop, one he had never even noticed before.
“come on hanta! it’ll be fun!” you pleaded.
and call hanta a sucker (because he is one) but he didn’t even give it a second— or first, really —thought.
he’ll blame the weed for that later.
you spend a while with the consultant at the front desk where hanta learned that you’re a concerningly good liar.
and now here he was. long fingers pulling back the curtain in which you stood behind.
“help me with the back?” you glanced back at him, hair tossed to one side of your neck as you held the dress up in front to prevent it from slipping down.
hanta nodded cautiously, taking a careful step toward you.
“7 years?” hanta teased, recalling your conversation with the worker as he took a stance behind you. the familiar warmth from his hands instantly radiated your skin as he kept a firm, but delicate, grip on your back. his fingertips pressed into the blades of your shoulders and you heard a soft zurrrt admitting from the zipper.
you grinned, “call me a prophecy.”
a small laugh escaped hanta lips and your smile grew wider. you now realized how the edible made everything feel softer— like the edges of the world had blurred just enough to allow the good moments to sink in deeper.
hanta took a step back, hand slowly departing from you. his eyes scanned down your body slowly like he didn’t wanna forget anything about the way you looked right in this instant. “you—“ he paused to cough away the slight raspy in his voice, “you should look.” he gestured back out toward the spotlight of the dressing room.
you nodded, picking up the dress from its sides and waddling out from behind the curtain onto the lit up pedestal. when your gaze finally met your own in the mirrors reflection, you stilted.
the dress was simple, strapless, and effortlessly elegant— soft fabric flowing down in gentle waves that brushed the floor like a sea's daily meetings with its shore. lace details traced the bodice and edged the hem. the white fabric sparkled, like it was made to bask in the sunlight and flow to the rhythm of slow dances.
like it was made for you.
“woah.” your voice was submerged in awe. you were careful, ghosting the tips of your fingers over the material of the dress, not wanting to risk messing it up.
you’ve never seen yourself like this before, never really imagine it either. there’s a feeling of wonder fluttering beneath the surface of your skin, flickers of questions tickling your consciousness along with it. it felt so good in a way you couldn’t quite describe with just words.
“yeah.” hanta spoke up from close behind you. his eyes followed the trail of the wedding dress as he took a step closer, rubbing a hand over his mouth to hide the stupid grin spreading across his face. “am i supposed to be seeing this?” he joked lightly. his hands found themselves comfortably on the small dip at your hip, his head leaning beside your temple as he looked at you through the mirror.
“you’re not supposed to see the bride before the ceremony..” you played along, hoping it would help you calm down from the fact that you felt like an literal angel.
“hm, i see why.” hanta’s grip on you tightened, just barely. his voice dropped, coated in a soft layer of truth. “you look beautiful. so unbelievably beautiful.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, then the tip of your ear, and then took a step back. “now you gotta spin for me.” he said, grinning ear to ear. “come on babe.”
you rolled your eyes but complied, picking up the sides of the gown and granting your lovestruck boyfriend the full 360 view.
within a second, hanta’s hands were on you again, head buried in the crook of your neck as he held you close. you could feel the way his lips quirked up on your skin as he muttered a quiet, “insane.”
maybe this moment, this dress, belonged to some future version of you— to both of you.
maybe hanta didn’t know exactly how he managed to get with the girl of his dreams. and he definitely didn’t how he’d get to a more official version of this moment in the future.
and maybe this moment wasn’t destined or now, but it was for later, and hanta knew that for sure.
⋆˚࿔ boyfriend tag
you’re a popular youtuber asking your boyfriend to participate in a new ‘boyfriend tag makeup’ trend.
— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)
contains: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, baby + babe used and some feminine compliments with kiri
authors note: i need some youtuber suggestions guys pls
⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima
⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari
⋆˚࿔ h.sero
⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou
⋆˚࿔ capes and crayons
turns out the mha boys make pretty good fathers.
— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)
contains: f!reader, established relationship, fluff, pet names, kids LOL
authors note: i missed writing these
word count: around 450-570 for each
⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima
“i love you.” your husband whispered, placing a kiss on your neck. it was nothing sexual, rather something similar to a relevant secret shared through the wind’s breeze.
you giggled, hands combing through his hair as his breath ghosted over your skin. it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary to wake up this way. your husband lips on your skin, whispering sweet nothings in your ear in a way that recharged you more than eight hours of sleep could.
“can’t we just stay like this all day?” he muttered. his grip on your hips tightened as he leaned closer to your body. you could feel the smile on his lips against the crook of your neck.
you ruffled his rose dyed hair and sighed, “eiji, baby, you know we can’t. the gir—”
and like most mornings, your moment of bliss was cut short. “MOMMY! DADDY!” a shrieking voice exclaimed from the near distance.
eijiro peaked up at you and you shot him a knowing look back.
before either of you had time to move your bedroom door creaked open and in came mei and hana; your four and seven year old daughters.
“DADDY!” mei, the younger of the two, ran up to the edge your queen bed, hands splayed over your covers as she attempted to lift herself up.
eijiro peeked himself from you and sat up. he immediately picked her up, large hands on either side of her torso as he lifted her high. “good morning my beautiful girls!” mei giggled as eijiro brought her close, drowning her face in affectionate kisses.
hana followed close behind her, arms crossed as she found a spot on your side of the bed. “were you guys kissing?” she asked, face displaying a not-so-pleasant expression.
your eyes widened momentarily before you hooked your arm around hana’s and pulled her close. “what? of course not.” you laid a firm, cradling hand on the back of her head and tilted her head down, placed a sweet kiss on the crown of her head. “how’d you two sleep?” you redirected the conversation, giving your husband a playful sideway glance before bringing your focus back to the young girls.
“awesome!” mei’s hands shot up as she excitedly bounced in eijiro’s lap. you always wondered how that girl always had so much energy in the morning. “in my dream, daddy let us have ice cream before school!”
a breath escaped your nose as you tilted your head, “really?” you asked.
you could already imagine the conversation the two girls had before entering your room: hana coaxing mei into asking for ice cream for breakfast, telling her to bat her eyelashes and give dad that sweet smile that she knew he always folded to.
“yup!” mei chirped innocently.
you held back a laugh and putting on a serious ‘mommy face’, your brows furrowed, ready to tell the girls that ice cream wasn’t something you eat for breakfast. but when you glanced over at eijiro, you only found a grin that mirrored mei’s.
“mommy, can we really have ice cream for breakfast?” hana asked, hand clutching onto your wrist as she also attempted to bat her eyelashes at you.
“yeah, can we?” eijiro joined in, smiling face undeniably charming under the sun's morning glow.
you sighed, shaking your head. but there was a smile creeping up on your lips. “alright. what flavor do we want?”
⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari
“guys! we’re going to be late!” you shouted.
it was a beautiful sunny day in musutafu, which wasn’t rare alone. what was rare was the fact that you and denki are both off of work. and it being a weekend meant the kids had no school. so, beautiful day plus no work and no school equals family outing!
but you wouldn’t be able to have a fun family outing if you couldn’t even leave the house on time.
with your youngest son— kenji, who recently turned two years old —hoisted up on your hip, you walked over to your six year old twin daughters’, emi and mio, bedroom.
the door was slightly open. you could hear soft giggles coming from one of the girls and the quiet murmur of your husband's voice.
quietly, you pushed the door open. you are met with the familiar shine of your daughters’ sunflower painted bedroom walls— which was nearly blinding on a sunny day like this. there were a couple of articles of clothing scattered across the light brown wooden floor.
denki was politely sitting in the middle of the room, legs crossed over each other and his back facing you.
“i think kenji was wearing a blue shirt like this!” denki held up a light blue shirt to mio’s chest. it had a flying dolphin printed on the front and ruffles along it’s perimeter.
mio grinned, hovering her hands over the shirt as her eyes glistened in admiration. “i like it.” her voice was soft, almost a whisper.
emi on the other hand was bouncing on her bed without a single care for the dolphin decorated shirt. she hopped off her mattress and approached denki, “but mommy is wearing a pink shirt! i wanna wear a pink shirt too!” her face scrunched up, as well as her hands, as she stomped her foot.
mio glanced at her sister with a judging look and denki just laughed. he took both emi’s hands, unraveling her fist and squeezing her palms. “you can’t match with mommy because i’m matching with her.” i pointed at his light pink shirt unapologetically, “see?”
emi’s eyes grew wide and— “BU— BUT WHY CAN’T I MATCH WITH HER TOO?!” she cried out, tears welling up in her eyes and threatening to spill out.
“denki!” you stepped into the room and your husband immediately whipped his head around, guilt written all over his face. he jolted up as you walked past him and to emi. you crouched down to her level, and using the hand that wasn’t holding up kenji, you wiped the single tear that had fallen down her cheek. “hey, hey,” you shushed. “you can wear pink to match with me, okay? don’t listen to daddy.”
emi’s expression was quick to change, “yay! i’m matching with mommy! i’m matching with mommy!” she cheered and ran to the dresser, already looking for a shirt to replace the one denki had previously picked out for her.
you smiled and turned to pat mio’s head, silently thanking her for behaving, before standing back up to face your husband.
you adjusted kenji on your hip and brought your eyes up to denki’s golden ones. “really?” you prodded.
“what?” denki smirked, slipping a sly hand on your hip as he leaned close to your ear. “you’re still mine, right?”
you scoffed as he placed a kiss on the outer shell of your ear.
⋆˚࿔ h.sero
you pretended to not hear the soft click that came from the front door of your house as you silently finished drying off the dishes. maybe if you stayed quiet enough he wouldn’t notice; he wouldn’t pester you about it.
but you knew better.
“babe? where are you?” hanta called out. you listen as you hear the telling sounds of him taking off his boots, then his jacket, and finally putting his duffel bag down.
you remain still and silent.
“y/n? baby?” he calls again. after a second he finds his way into the dimly lit kitchen where you were standing. immediately, his voice drops from the sweet tone it was previously dripped into something more serious. “y/n.” he deadpans.
your body stiffens as you hear him step toward you. “i can explain…” you bite your lip as hanta comes up behind you, head falling onto your shoulder.
he hands climb up to your stomach, caressing the eight month old bump that laid heavily attached to your body. “explain why my very pregnant wife is doing the dishes when i specifically told her i’d take care of it?” his tone is low. he isn’t mad but it was clear he wasn’t joking either. “come on sweetheart. doctor says you shouldn’t be doing this stuff. that’s what your husband is for.” he murmured, rubbing his nose against your neck. hanta was unable to hide his affection for you, even when he was ’upset’.
you titled your head back in his direction, accepting his warmth. “but hanta, i can’t just sit here and do nothing.” you whined, “it’ll kill me.”
it was true. laying in bed all day made you feel uncomfortable and stiff; your legs aching, and your back hurting.
the only thing that could keep your mind off the pulsing pain was work. but of course hanta didn’t agree with that.
“you’re killing me.” hanta whined back. he lifted his head, placing a kiss on the back of your head before saying, “come on, let’s get you two to bed.” he caressed your belly once more and you sighed.
“fine.”
“don’t get all moody with me.” he teased and gave you another kiss, this one being sloppier and on your cheek. “want a foot rub ma?” he asked.
“god, yes. please.” you falter.
“come on then.” he takes you by the shoulders and guides you towards your shared bedroom.
when he flicks on the lights, rina— your four year old daughter —groaned softly. after a second she flipped over and sighed, seemingly falling back asleep.
“she’s been out since ten.” you whispered.
“yeah?” hanta nods as he seats you down on the bed. he moves to your closet to change into his pajamas.
you push the loose strands of hair laid on rina’s forehead back. her hair has been in dutch braids for two days, hanta having done it during a family movie night after endless pleading. and because she had asked politely and ate all her vegetables, hanta complied. (but you’re sure if she didn’t do either of those things hanta would still do it)
hanta appeared at the foot of the bed, tapping your foot. you position your legs on top of his lap and he lets out a content sigh as his hands move to message your feet with slow and intricate motions that were so full of love. “she’s so well behaved. we got lucky.” he says quietly.
“or maybe she got it from me?”
hanta lifts your leg up to kiss your ankle. “yeah, probably.” he smiles. “but this one?” his eyes fall on your bump and it’s as if his eyes are reflecting a sparkling night sky. “he’s gonna take after his daddy.”
you laugh at your husband's reference to himself as ‘daddy’ and let your head fall back onto the pillow as he pressed small circles into the soles of your feet, feeling the most comfortable you have all day.
⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou
“hey babe, did you buy food for kumo?” you yelled from behind the kitchen counter. you bend down, searching through the grocery bags that were scattered throughout the kitchen floor.
hitoshi emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his wet lavender hair with a towel. “‘course i did. what kind of father would i be if i didn’t?” he titled his head as he focused on drying one side of his head.
“the same father you were last week.” you said through gritted teeth, rolling your eyes as you stood up.
he scoffed. “can’t find it?”
you shook your head.
hitoshi dropped his towel onto his shoulders and walked into the kitchen. he crouched down, skimming through the bags like you had been moments earlier.
he searched through one bag, then moved to another, then another. you watched with your hands on your hips, an amused expression painted on your face.
then hitoshi coughed, “hey— uh, y/n?” he hands slowed down, but didn’t stop.
“yeah?” your brows furrowed at his unsure tone. “what? don’t tell me you forgot it.” you squatted down besides him to help look again but before you could touch the bag hitoshi spoke.
“no, no. it’s not that. i know i bought it.” he shook his head. “it’s.. something else.”
you were more confused now. “what is it?”
hitoshi sucked in a breath through his nose and looked at you. “can we.. have another one?”
your mouth immediately fell open. “what?“
“look. i know we said we’d only have one, but kumo is lonely. did you know that? she practically cries every night for company.”
“babe that’s— i…” being too dumbfounded to form a proper sentence, you closed your mouth and thought.
“please?”
it wasn’t normal for hitoshi to get like this, all pleading and desperate.
“toshi… can we really handle that right now?” you said cautiously. you didn’t want to get his hopes up, but seeing the way he was so persistent and seemed to mostly want this for kumo’s benefit, you couldn’t shut the idea down just yet.
“why not?” his brows raised in reason. there was a glint of something in his eye, something that showed that he knew he’d already won.
though before you could confirm your decision, kumo crawled into the kitchen. she stopped at the bags near the archways threshold, sniffling them before skipping to the bags near the oven. she smelt the bag, then pawed at it. the bag folded under the weight and out rolled a can of cat tuna. a low purr rumbled from kumo’s throat.
“kumo, you’re a genius.” hitoshi shuffled towards the oven and opened the can of tuna, letting kumo eat straight from it as he pet her. “great older sibling material.” he pointed out, glancing towards you briefly as he continued to pet her spotted head. “kumo! you're getting a little sibling!” he crooned, taking both his hands to run her hands over her ears and then scratch her chin.
you swore there him and his cat antics would be the death of you.
HIII BLOOM !!!! i was wondering if you could do a lil fluff drabble of you chilling with sero in his room during like a talking stage ?
⋆˚࿔ the synonyms of epitome
authors note: siri what is a talking stage. seraph thank u for requesting ⸝⸝^ᴗ^⸝⸝ sorry for the wait!!
contains: gn!reader, unestablished relationship, fluff, awful flirting
word count: 1.1k
“and she was the—“ hanta glanced up at you. his eyebrow lifted as he looked at you through the stray hairs that had fallen from his shaggy— surprisingly well kept —mullet. you could see his jaw lock into a comfortable smile as he propped it up in the palm of his hand.
“epitome.” you nodded in confirmation.
it was only midday, so you could hear the distant sounds of footsteps and murmurs of conversation coming from the ua lively students outside. you glanced at the blossoming cherry blossom trees out of hanta’s slightly ajar window. the blush dusted leaves fought against the wind, constant rustles confirming its battle.
you rest your head against the headboard of hantas bed and took it all in. the wind whistled loudly, sharing secrets with the inner shell of your ear. you liked days like this. simple.
“epitome,” hanta copied from the foot of his bed. his pointer finger followed the words in the book mr. aizawa had assigned for your ancient history class too long ago.
you had already read the book and wrote your review paper on it two weeks ago but when hanta came to you asking if you wanted to read the awfully boring novel together, who were you to say no?
hanta had a way of making everything feel more alive. over the past few months you, and a handful of other people, have taken notice of how much the two of you spend time together— in how much you enjoy his presence.
he didn’t have to be telling a dumb joke or making fun of something stupid denki had done. something as simple as being by your side while you’re folding your laundry or mindlessly browsing on your phone, was enough to make you feel so unreasonably good.
there was something special about your relationship with hanta. something that hasn’t been spoken about on surface level. but the signs were definitely there.
“she was the epitome of beauty.” hanta finished the sentence, he brows knitting together. “epitome.” he said again. he pinned the book onto his bed with one hand and idly fiddled with his ruffled sheets with his other.
“he’s basically saying she’s the perfect embodiment of beauty.” you said. “he really likes her.”
hanta nodded his head slowly, “but when he talks to her he acts like he doesn't care?” hanta asks, but it’s clearly his question is coming from curiosity and not confusion.
you let out a short hum in reply and thought of the best explanation. “well.. maybe he feels too nervous when he talks to her and can’t show his true emotions?” you tap your fingers against the spine of the novel. you hadn’t given the half baked romance trope of the book much thought but hell if hanta was asking, you were suddenly interested too.
hanat scoffed, shifting from his position. “if i thought someone was the ‘epitome’ of beauty,” his words started off strong but seemed to slowly tumble into a declaration of uncertainty. still he went on, “i would talk to them before anyone else could.” he let out an airy breath. “but i guess i don’t blame him for being nervous.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
you nudged his leg from your spot on the bed, “so what? you see someone you like and immediately ask them out?”
hanta’s eyes flicker to your smirking face, “i see someone i like and i become their friend.” his eyes fell back onto his bedding. he was really admiring the 100% cotton material.
“uh huh.”
“and maybe, eventually, i would ask them out after a couple of years.” he says, his finger making a swirling motion.
“a couple of years?!” you exclaimed, shooting up into a straightened posture, “you’d make the person you think is perfect wait years for a confession?” you asked, a finger pointed at the tape boy as you suppressed a laugh. you didn’t expect hanta to be so... timid. “who would wait that long?” you asked, genuinely curious.
hanta finally peeled his eyes away from his sheets. his tone indicated that his confidence quickly flooded back, “someone who really likes me too.” he stated, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.
it was your turn to shift positions now, suddenly feeling like you were under interrogation, when you were really just under hanta’s gaze. your finger fell at his shockingly mature reply. “i guess that makes sense..” you bite your lip.
hanta chuckles at this.
you sighed before you spoke again, allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, “sooo what type of person are you even into?”
in the couple of years you’ve know hanta he’s never actually had anyone he was talking to, at least not that you know of. and for some reason you felt the need to learn everything about him. it was only natural, right?
hanta shrugged, “someone who can put up with my bullshit.” the book was abandoned now, his idle tracing too, leaving all his attention on you.
his eyes lit a dangerous fire under you, one that scuffed the surface of your interest. not to the point where it burned, but it left your skin unusually warm. “that leaves your playing field pretty empty huh?” you choose to tease, knowing that if you thought too hard you’d send yourself into a red faced spiral.
hanta laughed, rubbing his forehead as he shook his head. “not completely empty.” he remarked, something about his words hinting at a subliminal message. “what’s your type then, cerebrito?”
the question caught you by surprise. you hadn’t had time to focus on building romantic relationships with others. you mostly focus on strengthening the relationship you had with your friends, hanta being your strongest.
“i guess i would like to date someone who can make me laugh. and who likes to spend time with me.” you replied, purposely being broad. hanta had a telling look on his face, making you intrigued to what he was plotting.
hanta nodded, clicking his tongue. “would you like, be into some guy who likes to read boring ass books with you?” he asked carefully, almost like he was ensuring he could play off as a joke if you didn’t answer adequately.
you smiled, ignoring the increase in your heart rate and the sirens blaring in your head. leaning forward, you
force yourself to gently shove his chest, “i would be into a guy who knows what the word epitome means.” you bite back— though it’s more of a playful nip .
hanta raised a brow and put on a smile, “oh? so you wouldn’t be into a guy who’s the epitome of stupidity?”
he's so stupid. so stupid and so your type.
“i’m into guys who finish their homework.” you tapped the edge of his copy of the novel.
hanta settled back into his original position, grinning like he had just won a golden prize. “alright y/n. give this guy a couple of hours and you won’t have to wait any longer.” he brought his focus back to the work below him, “i promise.”
heyy i love your smaus 🩷🩷 and i wanted to request one where the reader texts the guys that they have an emergency but they only want them to like kill a spider and maybe like the aftermath of that 😭 (i ask you include hitoshi but other then that’s its up to you) 🫶🏻🫶🏻
⋆˚࿔ sticky situation
— includes: midoriya, kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)
contains: gn!reader but denki says “mama”, can be platonic or romantic!
authors note: thankkk u for the request anon! denki, eiji, and hanta are scared of spiders canon!!!
could i req an smau (pre-relationship) where reader accidentally sends the boys a text about them, meaning to text one of the girls. (specifically izu, kiri, hitoshi, and hanta)
ily and ur work, tysmmm🫶🏻 i know you don’t write for izu often so if you wanna switch him out w someone else its cool. content for him has just been dry lately😭
⋆˚࿔ confused confessions
— includes: midoriya, kirishima, sero, shinsou & kaminari (in that order)
contains: gn!reader, pre-relationship, fluff, cute and adorable used, one k*s joke
authors note: anon i love ur brain this was so fun to do hopefully i didn’t mess up izuku character! also couldn’t help but add a little denki i miss him guys
⋆˚࿔ i.midoriya
⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima
⋆˚࿔ h.sero
⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou
⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari
Hi Bloom!!! I love your writing sm 🥹! Thanks for also writing for Sero cus…You, me and the other 5 Sero fans are STARVING and DEHYDRATED 😭
I wanted to request headcanons on how the guys react to a super energetic s/o! Like homie is bouncing off the walls constantly, they have some moments of calm, but 80% of the time they are a loveable whirlwind of energy!
As for characters…I’d say the usual ones that you write for! Kaminari, Kirishima, Sero and Shinsou!
Thank you and have a great day!!! 😫💗💗
⋆˚࿔ hyperactive heart eyes
— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)
contains: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff
authors note: thank you for requesting! i love hanta i will never stop writing for him #hantanation he’s my bf actually
⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima
eijiro adores you and your energetic personality, it’s one of his favorite things about you.
he could be having a horrible day but just seeing you be so full of life rejuvenates his soul. your smile is contagious to him.
he likes to call you his ball of sunshine and pinches your cheeks.
eijiro encourages you to channel your bottled-up energy into productive things like training or working out! he's not afraid to express that he wishes he didn’t need to take pre-workout to be on your level. “babe you have to teach me how to have half your energy. seriously! it’s super manly!”
his favorite thing to do with you is early morning jogs. the sun rising, the cool breeze, and you being by his side; he knows it’s going to be an amazing day.
the two of you love having long conversations about everything and nothing. eijiro drinks in the sound of your chirpy voice and replies accordingly. no matter what the topic is he’s fully invested.
he also loves it when you try to playfully fight with him. he thinks it’s cute that you think you could beat him in a fake wrestling match. if you do manage to catch him off guard (which happens more often than you’d expect) he is so proud.
if you’re actually bouncing off the walls and unable to control yourself, he likes to give you a bear hug to calm you down. “how about we relax for the rest of the day baby doll.”
eiji makes sure you're not bumping into people or knocking things over, he’s like your personal shield. “hey, careful!” he says at least 50 times a day.
⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari
denki genuinely thinks he hit the jackpot with you. with both your energetic personalities you two make a perfectly chaotic couple.
he is the first person to match your energy in any and every situation. he encourages your wild side, and you play along with his dorky humor.
he likes to make tiktoks of you in 2x speed and you just go along with it. you enable each other's sillies!
non-stop hyping each other up, there isn’t a single dull moment between you two. “no babe i think you're totally hot when you talk a lot, please don't stop.”
you and denki are always giggling in class together and making dumb jokes. there are countless times when you two have found yourselves in detention together, still laughing at the prank you pulled on aizawa earlier that day.
you’re constantly taking him on little adventures like late-night ice cream runs or mall dates. he has no choice along with it. (he loves it!!)
you like to challenge each other to stupid meaningless competitions like who can hold a plank longer or a staring contest. he challenges you to a race at least once a week and he loses every time, he’s loud and wrong but you love him for it.
at the end of the day, you're both very worn out and cuddle up together, recharging to do it all over again tomorrow.
⋆˚࿔ h.sero
hanta finds your energy very amusing. he may tease you about it, a lot, but it’s very clear that it comes from a source of love and admiration.
he likes watching you hop from one friend to another, loudly going about your day. when you finally reach him, he just stares at you as you talk, mesmerized to say the least.
if you’re too far from him in public he won’t hesitate to reel you back in with his tape, as gently as possible of course. “can’t have you running off on me now can i?” he takes your hand to keep you grounded.
hanta loves the days when you're energetic and touchy. like you will jump onto his back to give him a hug and he won’t even flinch. he’s grinning ear to ear when you grab his hand while explaining what happened with mina earlier that day.
you’re a very spontaneous duo! last minute plans and “i’ll do it if you do it.” hanta is 100% down to do anything as long as you're doing it together.
hanta lives for how playfully you are. something will happen, you'll make the stupidest joke about it, and it’ll have him laughing for a week.
if he’s feeling energetic too, he’ll grab your hand, pull you to the middle of the room, and dance with you. spinning you around while singing a cheesy oldie love song. hes such a heartthrob.
you make everything fun and hanta is so glad that he has you keeping things interesting in his life.
⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou
hitoshi loves you so much and the fact that you act as his extrovert shield makes him love you even more. he doesn’t have to worry about making conversation or entertaining others when you're around.
hitoshi likes to sit back and listen to you talk. he hums in reply, hanging onto every word you say.
you're such a ball of energy and he can’t help but get cuteness aggression from watching you interact with the world around you. “come here.” he ushers you close, ensuring that you’re still his.
surprisingly supportive of your impulsive decisions. “alright, where are we going now?” he mutters, a small smirk tugging on his lips as you drag him behind you.
hitoshi find himself becoming more like you after you started dating, opening up to others, talking a bit more, etc.
you definitely got him to loosen up, your energy reflecting onto him. hitoshi finds himself smiling more after you got together.
occasionally, when hitoshi feels brave, he’ll turn the tables. pulling you onto his lap and watching you go from hyper to flustered, “let’s settle down now yeah?”
when your energy has drained from your body, hitoshi can finally match your energy, “tried yet?” he pulls you close and kisses your head, both of you settling into the warmth of being together.
just saw your cheerleader x bhna boys and 🤯🤯 I LOVE ITT
could you do this but with musical theatre reader and maybe add shinso?? 💗🤗
⋆˚࿔ behind the spotlight
— includes : kirishima, kaminari, sero, & shinsou (in that order)
contains: mostly gn!reader but eiji and denki say girlfriend once, fluff, established relationship, babe and baby used
authors note: thank u for the request anon! i’ll take this as a sign to never exclude shinsou again lolol so i added a little extra for u shinsou fans
⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima
eijiro is your biggest fan, making you feel like a mainstream actor. when you tell him you landed the lead role in newest musical, he seemed to be more excited than you! “i know you could do it, you’re the best!”
eijiro acts like your manager—a super nice one of course—he helps you rehearse your lines and guides you through warming up your voice.
he comes to every rehearsal he can make it too. eijiro cheers for you and your peers. your peers actually love him, how could they not? stage crew like to use him to carry and lift things, he enjoys doing these things knowing they help you in the long run.
secretly memorizes all the songs (and learns the meaning behind each of them) you’re singing so he won’t only be watching but also understanding.
his favorite musical is legally blonde! he thinks it’s super fun and elle woods quickly becomes his new inspiration.
on opening night, he gives you a bouquet of flowers before you go and stage. even in a rush he can’t help but encourage you, “can’t wait to see you on stage baby, i’m so excited.”
he is cheesing in the front row seats, his eyes not leaving you for a single second. he’s the first one standing when the show is over, clapping as the curtains come to a close.
“you were so good!” he engulfs you in a bear hug and you laugh. he is also brought to tears when he sees your glowing face, you’re like a real-life star and he gets to live in your glory.
after another bouquet of flowers and a million praises, he finally takes you home.
for the next three week he’s singing non-stop, the songs from the musical stuck in his head.
⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari
denki doesn’t know much about musical theater but after watching your first performance he finds that it’s his new eye candy.
when you tell him you landed the lead role denki grins, “what do i always say? my girlfriend is crazy talented!” his arm is draped around your shoulder. he pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “you’re gonna do amazing, i know it.”
tries his best to help you rehearse but gets distracted. “wait so, she has a crush on her sister's husband? that’s fucked up man.” even with his confusion he still manages to be super into the drama of it all.
denki lets you practice your stage makeup on him and is actually excited when you ask him to. thought by the end of it, he’s unsure, “are my cheeks supposed to be that… pink?”
would lose his mind if you had to do an onstage kiss. “can’t you just high-five instead! i mean you don’t have to kiss!” he says while he crosses his arm, practically pouting.
his favorite musical is heathers, no explanation needed. spongebob is a close second.
has tried to help backstage once but accidentally bumped into a switch and caused a power outage. the stage crew has been a little more cautious around him after that.
arrived to your show right as it starts so he can’t see you face to face until after the show, he’s devastated about this.
runs backstage as soon as the curtains fall, screaming. “BABE! YOU DID GREAT OUT THERE!” crushing you in a hug. he pulls back to hand you some flowers, the bouquet looking a bit shabby because he got fidgety during the show. “you're a star, should sign with broadway.” he teases as he walks you out.
denki somehow convinced the other theater kids to have an after party. so you spend the night celebrating with your boyfriend who makes this accomplishment feel special.
he may have auditioned for the next show to surprise you but didn’t get the role so he never told you about it.
⋆˚࿔ h.sero
hanta acts chill, but in the inside, he is amazed on how you keep on becoming more and more perfect, “lead role? holy shit babe that’s huge!” he brings you close and ruffles your hair “looks like i got an actor on my hands now.” he teases.
hanta is an absolute sweetheart, but he’s no actor. “oh no, how could you do this to me. i’m in completely despair.” he reads off the script with not a single hit of emotion behind his words. he then looks up with you with a grin, “did i do it good?” he’s trying his best to help you.
if you have a dance-heavy role he’ll joke about being jealous of your dance partner (he is not joking, he is jealous). he offers to help you practice dancing; this is mostly for his own pleasure.
tried to harmonize with you once but his voice cracked. hasn’t attempted to sing again since that day.
adds little encouraging doodles in the margins of your script. some with encouraging messages like, “you got this superstar!” others are… not so encouraging “i should’ve been cast as your super hot and cool love interest.”
got banned from watching your rehearsals because he would cheer every time you said your lines and boo everytime your love interest spoke. (denki was there supporting—booing—too)
his favorite musical was matilda, but after finding out that it’s originally british he changed it to mamma mia. now he can’t help but cry whenever he hears slipping through my fingers.
brings you chocolates and flowers on opening night. gives you a forehead kiss before you go on stage. “i’m might be more nervous than you,” he lets out an airy laugh and you end up having to comfort him. “break a leg!” he says as you walk off, his voice still weary.
he pretends to be causal when he sees you preform for the first time but how could he? you were perfect in every way and so impossible to ignore.
“you are so awesome.” is all he can say when you come off the stage. he is absolutely starstruck. he pulls you a long hug because he is just so freaking proud of you.
⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou
hitoshi is a part of the tech/backstage crew for the theater. he’s seen all the shows and actors before. so it comes to no surprise to him when you tell him you got the lead role, knowing how good you are. “of course you got the lead baby, you’re the best actor here.” he almost laughs at your modesty.
you both being theater heads leads to a lot of helping each other out! arriving at the theater early to help him prepare the stage speakers while you warm up your voice.
hitoshi is ecstatic when you ask him to adjust your mic or move the lights. he’ll take any chance he can to help you out.
if you’re alone in the theater rehearsing, hitoshi sometimes likes to mess with you through the intercom “that’s not how you said the line last time!” he calls out. you didn’t even know he was watching you.
lets you ruffle his hair and mess with his headset.
maybe the other actors don’t know it, but the stage crew does. hitoshi makes sure the stage crew never hears the end of your achievements. he doesn’t even mean to, he just finds himself commenting on your performance.
“she’s really good at that.” he watches from backstage with a smile, speaking to no one in particular.
“be careful with that set piece, my girlfriend is on stage.” he says it deadpan, but eveyone knows he’s serious.
his favorite musical is the addams family, obviously.
consoles in izuku about color theory so he can learn what color stage lights will match best with your skin tone.
you get ready for opening night together. he zips up your costume and you tighten his tie. he gives you flowers and a high quality pair of sheer tights, you almost propose to him right there.
hitoshi is happy he has the pleasure of watching you backstage, seeing you from an angle no one else is.
you stand next to each other when the show is over, and the time comes to bow for the crowd. he doesn’t let go of your hand when the curtain drops. before you can even open your mouth to ask, he speaks “perfect, fucking perfect.” he praises as guides you into a gentle kiss.
omg hii bloom!! i love your works so much so can i request
headcannons 4 mha boys /w their cheerleader girlfriend !!
⋆˚࿔ cheer fever
being the mha boys' cheer captain girlfriend! (,,>﹏<,,)
— includes: kirishima + kaminari + sero (in that order)
contains: f!reader, fluff, established relationship
authors note: wait i love this request too it’s so wholesome. no shinsou this time cus i can’t envision him here, sorry 😓
⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima
eijiro is your sweet jock boyfriend, making you the typical football player x cheerleader couple.
following this trope; your boyfriend is so obsessed with seeing you in his variety jacket. literally gets cuteness aggression and pinches your cheeks.
eijiro LOVES when you’re in your cheer uniform. everytime time he sees you in it he fumbles over his words trying to explain how good you look!
he gets so flustered when he sees you cheering for him on the sidelines. it gives him so much motivation knowing your cheering for him.
after a game he runs straight to you and spins you around, kissing you alllll over. “we did it!” he believes you give him all the strength he had to play (you do).
walks you home after cheer practice.
one time you got him flowers to celebrate his last game of the season. when he saw them, he cried because he got you flowers too! the biggest sweetheart ever.
half of his post on social media are of the both of you after games! he always posts on his story letting people know that his team will be playing and that you’ll be cheering as well. he’s so supportive.
⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari
denki is a loser, everyone knows. so everyone is also confused on how he bagged the most attractive cheerleader in the school.
he brags to EVERYONE about you, it’s a bit embarrassing, but still charming.. “oh yeah, my girlfriend!? she’s the cheer captain!” (no one asked)
forces his friends to come to games so they can help him support you. he’d bring a huge sign with glitter and your name spelt with macaroni while screaming “that’s my girlfriend!!”
still a flirty dork; “need help with your stretching exercises?” randomly asks you to do flips and splits because he genuinely thinks it’s cool.
tried to learn how to braid hair so he can do your game day hair, but he’s not very good at it </3 still, he helps apply your glitter and lipgloss.
no need to hire a photographer because denki will take an album full of photos of you when you're cheering.
after games he gives you a big hug and kisses the crown of your head. “another amazing job, you never miss.” he’ll also take you shopping after special occasions.
+ wore your cheer uniform as a joke once but ended up really liking it on himself.
⋆˚࿔ h.sero
chill boyfriend x cheerleader girlfriend: you guys are a power couple.
hanta was kind oblivious about cheer at first so he does a lot of research to make sure he’s supporting you properly. and he does it every time; chocolates, flowers, and small gifts.
when you tell him he had the body and muscle to be a cheerleader (mostly joking) he freaks and offers to help you practice. he quickly becomes your spot when you're practicing at home!
hanta is obsessed with hearing the drama going on between you and your cheer team, “no way she said that! seriously, she needs to pick a struggle.”
carries all your makeup and equipment wherever you need it.
fixes your bow/skirt and gives you a big smooch before each game. if he notices that you’re nervous before a performance he’ll give you the silliest pep talk to make you laugh. “go out there and show them what you got, yeah?”
when you’re studying together, he’ll beg you to ‘cheer’ him on. sometimes you decide to give him that pleasure just to see that wide grin on his face.
⋆˚࿔ tricks and tension
hanta 'doesn’t know' how to ghost, so you teach him.
contains: gn!reader, weed and smoking mentioned, mutual pining, 0.9k words
authors note: hiiiii so this definitely isn’t me projecting at all thank u
you lean your head against mina’s car window, the right side of your face already beginning to go cold. denki is yelling over the music and the sound of the wind slipping through the window is tickling your ear. streetlights flash over the car as mina speeds through the streets. you’re sitting in the backseat with hanta, enjoying this short moment with your friends before the event.
“pregame?” denki’s leaned back against his seat, joint between his fingers pointing in your direction. you have no idea why mina agreed to let him sit in the front seat.
“you definitely don’t need it.” you joke as you take the joint from his fingers. denki rolls his eyes.
you lean back and examine the blunt in your hands before taking a hit. you take a deep breath as a familiar burn washes over your lungs. your eyes fall close as you blow the smoke out, a smile forming on your lips.
“pass me the aux!” you hear denki say to hanta, the blonde boy's hand reaching for his friend's phone.
“settle down, sparky! before you get demoted and i make you sit back there with hanta and y/n.” mina swung her arm, that wasn’t on the wheel, around to get the electric boy's attention.
denki let out a short huff in defeat and hanta laughed. the raven-haired boy had been quiet for most of the ride. his chill demeanor is something you’ve always admired.
you decide to butt into the conversation before things got too serious, “you should give denki your phone before he pops a fuse.” you joke, glancing up at hanta.
he catches your eye, his lips cracking into a grin. your head spins as you watch him pass his phone to denki. when he settles back, his eyes are still on you.
you give him a playful grin and try to divert your mind from the look he’s giving you, “excited?” you ask.
hanta shrugs, the expression on his face tells you all you need to know. “fuck yeah, we deserve this.” he lets out an airy laugh as he threads his hands through his hair.
you take another puff, ghosting the smoke before replying. “if i get two free drinks tonight then i’ll be satisfied.” you say, mostly joking.
the expression on hantas face is unreadable for a moment. he shuffles in his seat and clears his throat, “i bet you’ll get more,” he quickly says before adding. “how’d you that thing?”
your brows furrow, “what thing?”
“with the smoke.” he replies.
your lips falter into a goofy smile, “a ghost, hanta?” you ask, a hint of teasing in your voice. “you want to know how i just ghosted?”
hanta’s cheeks burn. he pressed his lips together as he turned his gaze towards the window. “i never learned how..” his voice is carefully low.
“seriously?” you consider hantas words for a moment, wondering if he’s lying. but can’t find a reason that hanta would lie about something so insignificant, so you push forward.
your mouth opens, “well.. want me to teach you how..?” the question doesn’t come off as confident as you want it to. how were you supposed to teach him how to do this trick?
under the dim car roof, hantas face lights up. “that’d be cool.” he assures.
you nod and place your hand on the seat between the both of you to ground yourself. “here.” you say, your voice light. the weed was definitely quick to take effect, but you were confident you’d teach hanta before you were completely out of it.
he took the joint from your hands, his eyes on yours.
“okay, after you suck in the smoke you're gonna push it to the front of your mouth,” you pointed to your lips, “then open your mouth, very slightly,” hanta nods along as you speak. “push the smoke out of your mouth and at the same time you have to breathe in through your nose, so the smoke goes there. got it?”
hanta eagerly nods, “push out, breath in. sounds easy!”
“alright then give it a try.” you motion towards the joint.
hanta didn’t wait, immediately taking a long hit. you watch his chest expand as he soaks in the weed and wondered if you were paying too close attention to him. when hanta opens his mouth and a cloud of smoke floats out and disappears into the air around him.
“close,” you lean forward, your body weight on your hand below of you. you bring your other hand up to his cheek. “shape your mouth more like this…” you squeeze his lips together. “now try again.” you remove your hands from his face. but it’s clear that you're resting closer now than you were before.
hantas eyes comfortably drape across your body before he does another speechless nod. “like this?” he brings the joint to his lips. you see the end of it glow a fiery red as he inhales the weed. his glossy lips fall open as he takes a deep breath in, the smoke climbing up into his nose.
a proud smile cracks on your face, “perfect! looks like you're becoming a pro already.” you grin as you lean your head back down against the car seat, still facing the hanta.
“thanks y/n.” his smile is wide and his voice as a certain crisp to it that scratches your brain. you could tell he was already a little buzzed too.
“did you really need help, or was this an excuse to get closer to me?” you can feel warmth radiating off your whole body when you ask. your tone is playfully and your gaze glistens against the moonlight.
hanta tilts his head down towards you, his eyes full of fire, “guess i just needed the right motivation.” his voice is hushed, words spoken like a secret shared in the dark.
bloom's my hero academia masterlist! ◝(ᵔᗜᵔ)◜
note: works with w ‘⭑’ include nsfw/18+ content, minors dni with these post!
⋆˚࿔ smaus
melodies of us - d.kaminari
shared spaces - d.kaminari
fratastrophe - d.kaminari ⭑
gently yours - e.kirishima
new piercing - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
flirty and unfiltered - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
confused confessions - i.midoriya, e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
sticky situation - i.midoriya, e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
boyfriend tag - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
whined and dined - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
⋆˚࿔ oneshots
morning hues - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
tricks and tension - h.sero
when courage calls - h.shinsou - part two: maroon stains
where fire burns and molten melts - e.kirishima ⭑
the synonyms of epitome - h.sero
static hearts - d.kaminari ⭑
an orchid's pollen - e.kirishima
capes and crayons - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
in the near future - h.sero
⋆˚࿔ headcanons
love languages - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
cheer fever - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero
behind the spotlight - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
hyperactive heart eyes - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
nerd status - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
crushed reps - e.kirishima, d.kaminari, h.sero, h.shinsou
⋆˚࿔ series
maturity of a broken constellation - t.shigaraki + t.todoroki [ ongoing ]
pairing: Sero Hanta / Fem Reader
length: 5.3k
summary: Sero gets hit with a quirk that makes others see him as the person they are most attracted to. Which you really wish you had known before you opened your mouth and gave him your usual, “Hey, Sero!”
tags/warnings: pro hero au, fluff, misunderstandings, quirk accident, not actually unrequited feelings, smut, thigh riding, fem reader (no pronouns but AFAB genitalia terms used), aged up characters
It was approximately four thirty-three p.m. when Sero Hanta returned from patrol and blew your peaceful day to bits.
Before his arrival, the Todoroki Agency had been relatively quiet, as it usually was around this time, everyone but the on-call staff winding down for the day. You’d been hearing the telltale rustling of jackets and scuffle of feet in the office behind you since the clock ticked past four.
Not long after, a couple of your friends from the analytics department had wandered over to your desk, clearly deciding they were not going to get anything else done, gossiping and stealing the candies you kept in a glass bowl on the reception counter.
“I heard Shouto’s manager is considering signing him up for a shirtless charity calendar,” Mari told you immediately, wiggling her eyebrows. “Hana from brand management said she was asked to do research on the impact the calendar had on other pros’ careers, so I think this is serious.”
She looked beyond pleased, her cheeks pink and her ears tipped red, the way they always were when she contemplated her massive crush on your agency head, Todoroki Shouto.
You couldn’t fault her–Shouto was incredibly handsome and kind, if a bit spacey–but you’d always been drawn to a different pro hero on the agency roster. Someone just a little bit taller, with dark hair and a half-moon grin, a razor sharp sense of humor, and the most inconceivably mouth-watering thighs in the pro hero business.
Not that you had been giving them attention. Much.
You suppressed the urge to ask if anyone else from the agency was being considered for the calendar, wiggling your eyebrows back. “Well I know you’ll be the first in line.”
Mari’s blush deepened, and Kimiko laughed around an orange-flavored candy, which you stocked for many reasons other than a certain tape-themed hero’s predilection for oranges, thank you very much.
“I just hope they include Uravity-san,” Kimiko said. “I mean–not shirtless shirtless, but like, god would I kill for her in a little sports bra.”
Kimiko sounded unaffected, but you’d literally hidden her beneath your desk the time pro heroes Uravity and Deku visited for an agency team-up with the Todoroki office. She’d spent the entire time peering out with big eyes, muttering under her breath, “I am so gay. So very very gay.”
You didn’t doubt if Uravity were included in the spread, Kimiko might even beat Mari out for the first spot in line.
“You both have such kind hearts,” you laughed. “So eager to give to charity.”
“I’m a lifelong philanthropist,” Mari agreed, picking up your pen and doodling hearts all over your office stationery. You noticed she colored in only the left side, and suppressed another laugh.
Whatever. You knew what it was to be that whipped, even if you’d never do anything about it.
As huge as your thing was for Sero, there wasn’t a chance in hell he returned your affections. He was incredibly friendly, but over the past few years, he’d never even given a hint that he was into you like that. He’d treated you with the same easy cheer and subjected you to the same good-natured roasting he did everyone else in the agency.
And now was not the time to go looking for more, anyway. You’d recently become close enough to see Sero outside of work and you were not about to endanger that–you’d been invited to a house party of his a couple months ago, gone to drinks with him and a couple of agency people after work, and even grabbed dinner alone a few times over the past few weeks. You’d been texting memes practically nonstop this entire week alone.
He was so much fun, always quick with a joke, a wink, or an interesting story, and he wasn’t afraid to tell things like they were. You forgot time was passing when you were with him, and sometimes when you went out, you stayed out long enough that you thought he might, too.
So you were finally reaching a stage in your friendship where Sero clearly felt close and comfortable—you would not press for more.
It was just, sometimes, when he smiled down at you with that clever, mischievous grin, your heart felt like it was experiencing some sort of medical event. Sometimes, when he put his dark hair up into a messy half-bun, those biceps cording as he did so, it felt like someone had just vacuumed all the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Sometimes, when he leaned down to whisper something to you in his most conspiratorial tones, it felt like someone had spiked your brain into a blender and pureed it into mush.
But it was cool.
You knew how to play it cool.
Mari pulled you back to earth with the promise of more gossip—this time, about her arch nemesis in accounting—and Kimiko leaned in, offering her own commentary over the unwrapping of another of your candies.
And then the clock struck four thirty-three, and Sero Hanta returned from patrol.
You heard the telltale mechanic ping of an agency badge passing checkpoint, and peeked around Kimiko to see Sero trudging through the doorway, looking strangely contemplative. He was covered in dirt and his uniform was slashed in several places, including a great deal of shredding about the thighs, which you would have been happier about if he didn’t look so unusually subdued.
He didn’t look hurt at any rate, so that was good. But you couldn’t help but call out to him.
“Hey Sero!” you said, curious about his demeanor. “How’d patrol go? Something happen?”
Kimiko and Mari turned around, and you watched as both of them seemed to freeze up. Kimiko’s hand slapped against the reception counter, the sound echoing through the room, gripping tightly as though she’d suddenly seen a ghost.
“Ur–Uravity-san,” she said, dipping into the most formal bow you’d ever seen her make. “What’s brought you here?”
You felt your mouth pull into a frown, staring at the back of her head in absolute bamboozlement. Was she seeing things? The only person in the doorway was Sero, and he was very much unaccompanied.
His helmet was propped between his hip and his elbow, so his face was clear too–so Kimiko didn’t even have the excuse of not being able to see his face, different though his costume was from Uravity’s.
Sero blinked, his mouth pulling into a semi-puzzled grin. “Uravity?”
Mari was slapping Kimiko before you could inquire the same thing, hissing, “Are you losing it? That’s fucking Shouto.” She turned back to pin you with something between a glare and a concerned, assessing gaze, as if you too had lost your marbles.
You frowned back, your own concern deepening. “I’m sorry–are you guys seriously telling me that Shouto and Uravity are here with Sero?” You peered back around Mari at Sero, quirking a brow at him. “Did they get hit with some kind of invisibility quirk or are these two experiencing some kind of hallucination?”
Maybe too much shirtless calendar talk had gotten them too hot and bothered.
Sero’s dark gaze pinned you, and he quickly came tromping over, his boots echoing on the stone flooring. He leaned over the reception counter, pointing to his face with one long, pretty finger. “Wait, you can tell it’s me?”
He smelled like cement and sweat and dust, and something vaguely minty, like he’d been chewing gum recently. You tried not to let your expression show how much you liked the look of him up close, those hooded dark eyes, his wide, charming mouth.
“Um, yes? I have eyeballs?” you wondered.
Sero blinked, leaning in closer. Your heartbeat ticked up. “You’re sure?”
“Should I not be…sure?” you asked. “Are Shouto and Uravity really with you and I’m the only one who can’t see them?”
Sero shook his head, “Nah–it’s just me.”
You frowned up at him, curious. “Then why are they calling you Shouto and Uravity…?”
Sero shook his dark head. His hair was pulled into that half-bun you loved, the way it usually was under his helmet on patrol, and all mussed from whatever run in he’d had. You tried not to think about what other activities might get his hair all mussed like that.
He smiled, something wide and conspiratorial. “Got hit with some kinda illusion quirk. People have stopped me like a thousand times on my way in to ask for All Might’s autograph, or Hawks’, and even Bakugou’s. They’re lucky it was just me, he’d have thrown a shit fit getting cut off in the street like that.”
Sero’s features shifted into something slightly more contemplative again. “But you’re somehow immune, huh?”
You frowned. “Shouldn’t you get checked out at medical, then?”
His eyes softened, and another grin made its way onto his mouth. “Yeah yeah, I’ll head right there.”
Kimiko and Mari were still gaping over at him like he was a miracle, and some strange feeling came over you, a concerned little squeeze of your heart. You grabbed Mari, plonking her down into your seat in your stead. “Cover me for a couple minutes? Just say people are unavailable and take notes and I’ll figure it out when I get back. I’m gonna run down to medical with Sero for a second.”
Mari nodded dumbly.
You pulled Sero’s helmet out of his grip, resting it in the crook of your own elbow, and gestured him down the hall with you. Sero fell into step beside you, keeping up easily with his long stride. He grinned down at you, seemingly unperturbed that he’d gotten hit with a quirk that had all but erased his identity in the eyes of others.
It was something you admired in him, his inherent good-naturedness.
You wondered why you were the only one who could tell it was him.
“Any good gossip while I was gone?” he asked, like he really couldn’t be fussed about his predicament. “I was starting to hear shirtless calendar talk before I had to head out on patrol.”
You suppressed a flush and fought down the urge to ask if he’d been asked to be in it too.
You did not need to know.
“Whatever the hell is going on with you is the spiciest bit of gossip all day,” you told him, rounding a corner and badging into the stairwell down to the medical floor. You clung to the railing carefully and most definitely did not watch his thighs bunch as he took the stairs. “Want a drink after work? It seems like you could use one, after this.”
Sero smiled, an eyebrow raising. “Trying to get me drunk, huh?”
You wrinkled your nose. “As if I’d need to be so underhanded.”
You did. You did need to be so underhanded.
Sero had to angle himself carefully through the door, his shoulder pieces liable to snag on the doorway with the breadth of those pro hero shoulders. The medic on staff took one look at him and flushed, mumbling out a name you didn’t know.
You piped in before she could say more. “Cellophane’s been hit with a quirk that makes him appear like someone else. It’s not whoever you think!”
She blinked curiously, but then nodded, probably having seen much weirder things in her time as a hero agency staffer. She gestured Sero to a cot on the side of the room. “Alright, please sit down, Cellophane. We’ll do a couple quick tests and then get you sorted with the right quirk cancellation.” Her cheeks seemed to heat again as she spoke, but she made good on her promise, disappearing down the hall, calling to someone for quirk testing strips.
Sero hopped up on the cot, swinging those long legs, grinning at you from eye-level, now. “Think I should prank a couple people before they cancel it?”
You rolled your eyes. “Only you would be having fun with this. No one in the world knows who you are!”
The corner of Sero’s mouth pulled wryly. “You do.”
“You don’t know if that could change, dude. Better get it over with before you get stuck as like, Endeavor forever.”
Sero laughed, light and airy. “Shouto wouldn’t hang with me anymore.”
You nodded. “Exactly, and none of the rest of us read the same weird manga you guys are into so you’d be all alone with no one to fanboy about it to.”
The medic returned with a thick silvery strip, pulling on blue nitrile gloves as she did so. Sero held his arm out obligingly, the lean muscle flexing in the fluorescence of the office lighting. She peeled off the backing of the strip, pressing it to Sero’s forearm, pushing it down firmly.
She attached a cable to some screened device, and you listened to the beep of various buttons. Sero watched you over her shoulder, his easy smile still in place.
Finally, the device in the medic’s hand beeped, and she pulled back, announcing somewhat shyly, “An attraction-type quirk.”
You blinked, mystified. A what?
Sero’s grin seemed to freeze on his face, and his thin brows furrowed the tiniest bit.
The medic continued, oblivious. “This quirk creates an illusion. External parties will perceive the affectee with the traits or as the person they are most attracted to.”
Sero’s dark eyes snapped to yours, widening, and you fumbled a step back, almost tripping over yourself. You threw out a hand, barely catching yourself on the counter.
No.
Oh fuck no.
If people were seeing who they were most attracted to…and you had just seen Sero the whole time…
That would mean—that would mean—and he had heard you say—
“Oh my god, I just remembered I have to get back to Mari,” you said, offering Sero a wave of your suddenly numb hand. “Can’t, um, strand her at the desk for too long. I’ll leave you guys to it. Uh, yeah. Thanks–bye!”
You quickly threw yourself out through the door, leaving Sero alone with the medic. You dashed back up the stairwell, your heartbeat shooting into your mouth.
How could this be happening? How unbelievably embarrassing was that? You’d worked so hard to play it cool in front of Sero for all this time, for years, really, and you’d finally just made it to a comfortable place as friends.
And then—and then—some attraction-illusion quirk goes and blows your cover, just like that? For real?
And he’d heard you, too. Heard you say, “Hey, Sero!” as soon as he’d come through the door, before anyone had revealed anything about who else they thought he might be instead. Before you could have possibly had any clue that he’d been quirked.
You could die of mortification.
You shooed Mari and Kimiko away from the desk when you got back, quickly readying your things to get the hell out of the office as soon as your night replacement arrived. You cleaned up all the bi-colored hearts Mari had doodled on every available surface of your desk and refilled the candy bowl Kimiko had apparently seen fit to devastate in your absence, your ears heating with the thought that Sero could catch on now, why you stocked orange candies.
God, could your replacement hurry the fuck up before Sero got back here?
But the night receptionist was predictably late, of course, and by the time you finally saw him badge through the front entrance you could hear quick, booted steps across the tile behind you.
Sero’s voice sounded over the back of your chair, just as a long-fingered hand closed around your wrist.
“Y/N,” he said, his voice more careful than you’d ever heard it. “Still up for that drink? I think maybe we could talk over it.”
The night receptionist nodded at you and Sero as he made his way over, and you gave up your chair to him, collecting your bag with Sero’s warm fingers still clutching your wrist. You slowly worked up the courage to look up at him, face heating as you took in his uncharacteristically intent expression. His face had been cleaned and it looked like some antibiotic had been applied to some of the scrapes along his jaw.
You knew then you’d trapped yourself. Though it was probably also better to get things over with now than avoid the subject forever.
“Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice normal. “Yeah, let’s talk.”
Sero was the nicest dude ever, you had to remember that. Even when it came down to a rejection, he would still be completely kind and friendly. Probably not too much would change on his end afterwards either. You couldn’t imagine him avoiding you or treating you any differently.
“My place okay?” Sero asked as you shrugged on your bag.
You nodded, and he smiled, nearly as wide and silly as he normally did, tinged with only the slightest bit of shyness.
You’d originally planned to take him out somewhere fun, but this conversation was probably best had in private. And Sero’s place was close, an apartment only a couple blocks’ walk, in a charming little neighborhood fringed by a park and a variety of interesting bars and cafes. Sero chatted away with his usual friendly ease as you walked, still in his shredded hero costume, waving to the couple people that recognized him as you did so.
Your stomach flipped as he opened his front door, gesturing you inside under his arm. He was tall and lanky enough that you fit easily, and you caught a whiff of that minty scent again under all the dust that coated his uniform. You tried not to look too closely at the lines of his bicep as you passed under it.
His apartment was just as you’d remembered it; spacious, casually decorated in neutral tones with splashes of interesting patterns spread across the rug, throw pillows, and his collection of wall hangings. It smelled cottony and clean, and Sero gestured you to his couch as he dumped his helmet and boots in the doorway, shrugging off his shoulder pieces.
“A beer cool?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.”
“Sounds great,” you told him, listening to the sounds of him cracking the caps.
To your surprise he plopped down on the couch next to you as he came back in, handing you a bottle. It was cold, and your fingers made little prints in the condensation where you touched it.
“So,” he said, turning to you, a sly look in his dark eyes. “You wanna talk about what just happened?”
Your face flamed, and you took a quick sip of your beer to give you time to recover yourself. It was sour on your tongue, a hint of orange peel in its profile.
“No,” you told him honestly, giving him a self-conscious smile, which he returned. “I think it’s pretty clear, actually. You got hit by a quirk that shows people the person they’re most attracted to and I, uh, obviously saw, um, you.”
Sero’s grin pulled wider at the edges, surprising you. If you didn’t know better, you would think he liked hearing that. Although maybe it was a little bit of an ego stroke to hear you were someone’s fantasy man, even if you didn’t return their feelings.
“Not All Might and not Bakugou,” he said, something pleased in his tone.
You blinked at him, disturbed by those insinuations. “Definitely not,” you sniffed. “I am a paragon of taste.”
Sero laughed, his fingers flexing on the side of his beer. Then he took a sip, seeming to contemplate something as he did, and you drew yourself together, preparing for the inevitable. That was definitely a look that said he was thinking hard, probably about the best way to let you down.
But then Sero grinned back down at you, leaning in collusively. “You wanna know something?”
You could feel your brows raise curiously, even as your heartbeat picked up with his proximity. You looked down, then accidentally spied the strips of tanned thigh where his costume had torn, and had to quickly reroute your gaze for fear of staring. “That depends.”
Sero’s grin went even more sly. “I think if you’d been hit with that quirk, I’d have known it was you too.”
Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest. It was only when Sero threw a hand out that you realized you’d lost your grip on your beer, his quick reflexes the only thing saving his carpet. You startled at the sudden move, making a weird arm-flinging motion somewhere between grabbing for your beer and grabbing onto him, ending up accidentally smacking him in the chest instead.
“Fuck, I—sorry!” you garbled out, stunned by his sudden proximity and the fistful of his costume you’d taken. His skin was warm against the side of your hand.
Sero blinked, looking taken aback for a moment. Then he shifted, and you heard the clink of two beers being deposited on his coffee table. You swallowed, unable to look away from him, and you watched his dark eyes rove over your face, before dipping down to stare at something just under your nose.
A shiver prickled up your spine.
“So when you—with the quirk—” you tried, but your brain had gone offline, and the right set of words were not coming to you. “Um, when you say—you would have known—?”
Sero’s grin crept back across his mouth. “I mean that I’d have seen you, because I’ve been wanting to ask you out and trying to figure out if you're into me for months.”
It had to be the shock of this admission that registered you so stupid. “You—months? Try years.”
Sero’s laugh beat back the instant wave of mortification that overcame you in the next second, when you realized what'd you'd just said. You could only smile back helplessly, equally pleased and embarrassed. He looked so good right then, too, grinning toothily, his hair a mess, his costume torn to shreds. He really was the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen, that quirk had totally had your number.
It suddenly dawned on you that you had little else to lose now, with everything out in the open. And when Sero looked like that—sly, pleased, and a little bit of a mess—you thought you were done trying to bury things.
A thrill zinging down your spine, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.
He’d been laughing, and you only caught the edge of his mouth, but Sero quickly corrected. You could feel his lips go slack in surprise for a second, and then he was schooling himself and returning your kiss with abandon.
Long fingers came up to take your chin, holding you firmly in place. It was so unexpectedly bold that you shuddered, kissing him harder. Your hand tangled further in the fabric of his costume, gripping onto him for dear life as his tongue met yours, twisting and teasing. It was so like him, the way he kissed. Teasing, playful, easy. Your head spun with how much you liked it.
“Aw fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Sero said, when he finally pulled away far enough to enunciate the words. He shifted against you, putting a large palm against your back, pulling you to him. You followed his guidance, climbing into his lap, chasing his mouth again. You wanted more—more now that you thought you could have it.
“I’ve been wanting—for years—” you said, squeaking in surprise when Sero guided you down onto a strong thigh. It was hard and thick and way too muscular to be allowed, and your breath left you in a harsh hiss. And because this was the most embarrassing day of your life, Sero clocked it immediately, leaning forward in interest.
“You—like that? My—thigh?” he asked curiously.
You could feel your face burning, like someone had just dunked it in a bucket of hot coals. “I–yes. I like everything about you. Including your thighs,” you admitted.
Sero’s hand guided you back down against him, pressing his knee up experimentally. A thrill sang through your veins at the feeling of a piece of him so warm and firm right up against your core. You barely bit back the noise you wanted to make.
“Fuck, this is weirdly hot,” Sero said, leaning in to take your mouth again. You could feel him growing hard against your knee through the fabric of his costume, as his tongue flicked against yours, making your brain go a little woozy.
His arms came around you, holding your waist as he ground his leg up into you, sending a wave of pleasure striking through you like lightning. The moan you’d been trying to hold in finally broke free of you. “Ah—Hanta!”
The sound seem to spark something in him. Sero surged up, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he kissed you, still rocking you against his thigh in a way that made you see stars. You had the wild thought that everything about him was more than you’d ever imagined it would be, from the delicate press of his fingers to the warmth of his thigh to the way the strands of his hair that had escaped brushed across your forehead. Embarrassingly fast, like he knew exactly how to play you, he worked you up to the crest of your pleasure.
You had to put a hand to his chest to stop him.
“Hanta, if you—I’m going to cum if we don’t stop—” you said.
“Oh my god please,” was his only answer, and he pulled you down onto his thigh with renewed vigor. Sparks of pleasure pricked all over your body as he kissed you again, his hands roaming every inch of exposed skin. He left bruising kisses down the side of your throat, fingers playing with your nipples.
Another few rocks into his thigh sent you right over the edge, and he held you against him as you rode it out, squirming against his thigh.
“This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, something in his tone making it clear he was not done with you yet.
He helped you wiggle out of your pants, freeing himself of his own costume, and laid you out over his couch, grinning. He was golden with a fading summer tan, and his smile was so wide and charming and white against the dimming light from the windows. He was gloriously lean, hard with dense, compact stretches of muscle, every single inch of him honed from years of hero work. He was perfect—so stupidly, handsomely, perfect.
Between his thighs, his cock was just as long and lean, heavy and flush with arousal. It made you dizzy to think that this man, who you’d crushed on for so long, wanted you like this—wanted you back in the same way you’d always wanted him. You motioned him closer, too eager now to be self-conscious about it.
Sero laughed, a happy noise. “Fuck, you’re so pretty though.” He stretched out over you, sliding in between your thighs and guiding himself into you. His chest pressed to yours, hot and slick with a light sheen of sweat already, and you hissed with the feeling of him slipping inside you.
You felt drunk with arousal, crazy with want. You clutched him to you as he moved, thrusting carefully at first, as if testing the feeling of you, and then more firmly. You let out soft noises you hadn't meant to, which Sero seemed to appreciate.
“God, look at you. Listen to you,” he said, grinning down at you, his dark eyes tracing over you. “I can’t believe I got hit with that quirk. This is the luckiest day of my life—you’re so cute. So—fuck—so perfect.”
He slid into a frustratingly sedate pace, strokes long and languid, stretching out almost teasingly. You wrapped your legs more tightly around his hips, trying to press him into you, but his smile just widened. He moved leisurely, setting his own pace, just on the wrong side of too slow.
It drove you insane, somehow working you up even faster than if he’d been doing what you wanted. You muffled the sounds of your own moans against his lips, gripping onto those broad shoulders. Sero’s own fingers slid down to your clit, playing with you just as lightly and teasingly as his thrusts.
You could have killed him, but all you could do was hold onto him, slurring his name appreciatively.
He worked you like that for a while, bringing you close but never too close, drawing out the feeling into something warm and fizzy, like soda left in the sun. But eventually the band of his control seemed to snap, and he began thrusting into you harder, faster. Those long, lovely fingers circled your clit with more intent as he did, murmuring a steady stream of praise.
“Please—cum with me,” he panted into your mouth, as his fingers drew ever-tightening circles over you. “I want you to come with me, Y/N. Can you—can you do that?”
You nodded frantically as his thrusts grew faster, sloppier. He was so good inside you, so good over you, his fingers such a delicious pressure against your clit. It only took a few thrusts more, a few strokes of those careful fingers, and then you were squirming against him in earnest, your veins going molten with pleasure.
“Hanta—I’m going to—!”
“Yessss,” he hissed, and then he was orgasming too, spilling out his pleasure inside of you. His hips slapped yours in a stuttering pattern, half-crazed, and you shook against him, gasping. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you crested the wave, until finally—finally you went limp against him, just as his own body relaxed over you.
“I want to be hit with a quirk all the time,” he said, ridiculously.
You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling into his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of it.”
Sero hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If this is what I get every time, then…” he trailed off, smirking down at you.
“I’m not going to bang you if you’re going to be irresponsible,” you told him.
He perked up, however, those dark eyes peering at you hopefully. “But you’ll bang me otherwise?”
You laughed again, pinching him lightly on the arm where you held him. “What do you think having a crush on you for years means?”
His grin went all sly and pleased again. “Then I’ll have to lock it down, of course. I haven’t spent months wondering just to let you get away. Starting with dinner this evening, maybe. Do you—would dinner be okay?” he asked. The sound of genuine, eager hope in his voice was so gratifying it made you want to kick your legs in the air.
You settled for nodding instead. “Dinner sounds amazing.”
“Then I’ll arrange the finest takeout just for you,” he said, which you knew from experience meant the empanadas place around the corner. You laughed again, feeling full already with the promise of an easy meal, and a relationship to come.
“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” you said, even as he began to slide off of you, helping you up alongside him. “You’ve had a crazy day today, empanadas sound like the perfect cap.”
Sero leaned in, his expression as mischievous and charming as always. “It’s nothing,” he said, even as he carefully held out your shirt to you again, guiding you into it in an unexpectedly gentlemanly move. You let him stuff you into it, laughing, smiling into the kiss he gave you as you emerged.
He winked at you as he found his phone and dialed, smiling as you heard the call connect. “After all, I'm a hero," he said. "And it’s all in a day’s work.”
Beginning of the roommate!Sero saga
See the headcanons I jus made here !
Sero desperately needs a roommate. His apartment is too perfect to give up but damn the rent keep increasing… reaching out to cami seemed like a good idea bc she knows a lot of dudes that are jus in uni and have daddy’s money to pay rent. Key word: dudes. THAT was what he told her when he texted her. But here you are. Not a dude.
You’re standing in the kitchen with a bowl of something that smells heavenly and he’s slumped against the wall behind him, catching his breath from the smack down he was just in.
He was supposed to help you move in but a “work thing” came up and they absolutely need him there. Which brings him here. Bloodied & bruised on his own window seal and a stunning girl making food in his (your) kitchen.
“AH! Oh my fucking lord! Are you okay?” You jump. Expected I mean, you’ve never met, he’s unsure if you know he’s a hero but either way seeing some guy basically break in through the window of your new living room is a bit concerning.
He still doesn’t say a word. Partly taken aback at you. He said dude. You’re not a dude. You’re a… well fuck your gorgeous.
“Hello? You’re.. uh you’re bleeding.” Sero looks down at himself and suddenly he’s back in reality. “Oh shit yeah. Sorry sorry uh, this must be hella weird.” He says laughing while he’s getting up to greet you. Hand out he says “Sero Hanta, your new roommate!”
He disappears to shower but when he’s back you offer him some food and the fact that he hasn’t had any since about 11am (it’s now abt 9:40pm) he takes you up on that. It happens so naturally. You’re eating standing in the kitchen then you two are on the coach, just talking and talking away.
You’re a university student, pre-med track and you have a job at this really fancy restaurant but you only work a couple nights a week. Sero is, you guessed it a pro hero but he says he works with more underground investigations and that’s why he isn’t as famous as his buddies. Human trafficking, drug rings, weapons dealers and usual yakuza crimes is what he spends most of his job investigating. Occasionally he will be pulled into typical patrol or bigger villain fights but only if they really need him.
You guys eat all the pasta and after a couple hours of eating, talking and cleaning you return to your rooms for the night. His door shuts behind him and he pulls out his phone
Bolt 🔋: how’s the my replacement?
Spider man: she’s hella smart, med student.
Bolt 🔋: SHE? SHEE?
Bolt 🔋: coming over rn I gotta meet 🤤
Spider man: HELL NAW ur not fking my roommate???
Bolt 🔋: ;(
Bolt 🔋: she hot tho?
Spider man: 🖕
Spider man is offline
Kinda maybe definitely shitty but I wanna get some out to encourage me to write more. I wanna do a whole series abt roommate!reader & sero
Roomate!Sero headcanons
See a little blurb abt first meetings here!
Sero is definitely the best roommate of the gang I think. Maybe kirishima could be first but he def wakes u up with his protein smoothie shit
Fairly clean! He doesn’t leave the kitchen a mess, cleans up food if he ordered in or if he had the guys over however. What he will not do is take out the trash.
No one knows why. He just doesn’t touch it. He will 100% just let it overflow.
One time you went away for a while to visit family and came back to the trash bin completely full and a new bag halfway just sitting on the ground next to it.
“You know i probably saved this country from being run by the mafia at least a dozen times! I think the least you could do to thank me is to relieve me of trash duty” 🙂↕️
He isn’t a stoner in this AU but I do think he smokes the za. He def has joint pain (man has tape dispensers for elbows, that’s gotta cause issues) and gets hella bad migraines and he also lives a very STRESSFUL WORK LIFE pls let this man have a joint every now & then
His decor style is pretty decent too! Mainly just hella warm lights. You guys have a rule abt the big light. It never turns on.
Also has plants everywhere
His room is more personalized: broken skateboards on his wall, plants, still hella lamps and warm table lights, records on the wall from artist he’s never heard of (Jiro gave them to him) , black bedding (I’m thinking kinda like this but brighter)
He’s a Pro hero but I always see Sero has being more of an underground pro. Just in the sense that he handles like discrete drug and weapons oppressions where he can’t really be in the spotlight.
Def goes undercover a lot and is fucking good at it to. (He likes playing male believe)
Incredibly irregular schedule. Sometimes he’ll come home at 5pm and you guys maybe hang out then the next morning you’re seeing him coming back again…
“The mafia doesn’t sleep and neither do I sweetheart”
Calls you nicknames but the tone in which he does it makes you think nothing of it until…. You catch feelings. Bc that will happen living with him.
Sero hanta was in the background of your daily life in the UA General Studies course. Not bc he was plain or boring or anything, but because he was in the hero course, specifically class A, so your paths rarely crossed. Aside from the few times him or his blond friend would bump into you or your friends, or when your eyes would latch onto him as he walked out of the building. The point is that Sero Hanta was a nobody to you. So why was he suddenly at every turn you make and infecting your every thought?
I miss friendly neighborhood spider-man!sero :(
Sero Hanta is the type to major in psychology and not bat an eye at all your “crazy jealousy trust issue” habits because he knows it has nothing to do with him and is a much deeper issue he has no problem reassuring.
you want his location? sure, he tells you where he is going anyways so why not.
you have a random inkling that you need to see his phone? the password is 7505, sweets! and if you need any other codes just let him know.
you're getting a little insecure at the fact that another girl is going to be at the function? how about you just come with him! Or you know, he'd much rather have a quit night with you.
obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)
It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘
a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭
Shoto Todoroki
He fits this trope so well.
He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)
He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.
If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.
He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)
I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:
“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.
Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.
In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.
Hanta Sero
Clawing at my cage for this man.
Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?
He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.
But oh that’s where he is wrong.
When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.
But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:
“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”
“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”
Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.
Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.
Literally ya’ll
He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.
Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.
He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.
Sero Hanta comfort
This song as been on repeat and I think sero would love it
Two gentle knocks stir Sero out of his sleepy daze. His music is still on, the song displayed on his TV. He glances at his alarm clock beside him. 11:34pm. It’s late but not too late. It’s a Saturday night so it’s not a big deal if he sleeps in. Pulling himself up to answer the door the short walk over is done with his eyes closed but as Sero opens the door he gets a whiff of your perfume and suddenly they’re wide open. He’s met with your tired figure. Eyes dragging down, hair disheveled and you look smaller. You’re shoulders are too repaxed and you’re holding your stomach, hunching over. “Y/n? Um are you like ok?” He asked still trying to wake up. At his question your head tilts up and eyes meet his. Sero’s heart breaks a little, he can see the sadness, the stress all of it. “I’m just,” you begin. Your voice is small and sounds like it’s about to crack, “I’m so tired, Sero. I can’t sleep. All I want to do is sleep but I can’t.” You’re trembling now. He knows this isn’t just about not being able to sleep. It’s about all of it. Everything that has happened to you lately, the stress he has seen on your face multiple times in school. You hands go quickly to cover your eyes to stop the stream of tears from falling down you’re cheeks but one manages to slip through the barricade. Sero follows it as it rounds the fullest part of your cheek and quickly falls to your chin but he wipes it away with his hand before it does. That’s what he always does. He always catches you before you fall. Right when you’re over the edge he grabs you and pulls you back. He’s your best friend. He’s more than that but he knows now is not the time to question his position in your life.
“Oh hun, come here.” His voice is empathetic. His hand snakes behind to your neck and the other to your back as he pulls you to him, walking the two of you inside his room. Your arms instinctive wrap around his form, tightly. You’re sobs are prevalent but the sound of Sero’s music the TV is drowning them out. He begins swaying you two around and patting your head trying to calm you down a bit more. When that doesn’t seem to work he resorts to singing along to the music softly in your ear.
“Nothings gonna hurt you baby / Nothings gonna take you from my side”
His voice is gruff with sleep. His eyes close and his head falls to rest on the top of yours.
“When we have a drink or three / Always ends in a hazy shower scene/ Nothings gonna hurt you baby / As long as you’re with me you’ll be just fine”
He makes his way to his bed with you still in his arms. He lays down first, then pulls you softly to lay right on top of him. Your face is hidden in the curve of his neck, the tears have stopped but your hands still tightly fist his shirt. Keeping him close to you. Sero’s eyes flutter shut and his breathing gets heavier and soon sleep embraces the two of you with the sound of his TV still running.
“Nothings gonna hurt you baby”
hi love! idk how long ago you posted that you wanted sero requests but here i am.
tattoo artist!sero and it’s like your first time getting tattooed and he talks you through everything that’s going to happen and everything that he’s doing and just making sure that you feel safe. i acc love it so much honestly it could be his partner or a complete stranger but honestly OBSESSED with this idea rn it’s doing my head in i just NEED it on paper
thank u sum for the request & i love tattoo artist!sero !!
You've been thinking about this for quite some time. Ever since you saw your eldest cousin with their first tattoo when you were much younger, you’ve been dreaming about getting your own.
On an impromptu girls' trip into the bright city of Tokyo, your closest friends, Momo and Ochako, convince you this is the time! “but I need to do so much more research about what place I want to go to! what sized needle I should get, and… SO MUCH MORE!” you say in the dimly lit bar, tipsy enough to even be thinking about this idea but not so much that you’re stumbling. “Oh, com’on Y/n !! my girlfriend knows this guy who owns a tattoo place, I think it’s near here, and he’s like, so legit ! she only goes to him and his people.” Momo chimes in. This made you even more unsure. You love Momo’s girlfriend! She is cool and funny but the crowd she runs with is… a wilder than you’re used to. “Is this the same guy that almost got us arrested at that house party?” you say back, reminding her of that night year or two ago. “oh my lord no !!! That’s Denki. this guy is Sero, he is super chill, an amazing artist, and can do anything. even those super small, dainty ones you like.” After about 3 more drinks, the three of you guys are outside by the bar, and Momo is calling this Sero guy, asking if his place is still open. and it is.
After about a 10 minute walk, you arrive at the place. “Tokyo’s Ink” looks cool enough. Rustic and dark enough to draw in the right crowd but oddly clean and tidy enough so no one thinks it’s some sketchy dump. you stumble in with the help of Momo and are greeted with a tall male at the front desk. “uh.. Momo, are you sure she’s ok to like do this?” aww sweet. you think. he clearly cares about his clients which makes you more open to trusting him like this. “yeah yeahh she’s fine. not as bad as ochako though.” momo replies, laughing before she notices- oh shit. where’s ochako? after mumbling you can’t understand between the two tall dark haired people, she dashed out, assuming to look for her. “so, y/n right? i think we met a couple times when you went out with momo and jirou.” oh yeah. You remember seeing him in the crowds with Jirou’s ragtag friends group. “oh yeahhh. you used to have a lip piercing, where’d that go?” you ask, peering up at his face. “oh i uh, got into a fight and it got ripped out.” he says so nonchalantly, leaving you stunned, wide eyed. “holy shit!” “yeah, so you’re thinking of getting a tattoo?” he says and sits back on the desk in the entry way. You can see him a little more clearly now and he’s gorgeous. His hair looks clean and soft, a little outgrown mullet but it looks good. His hands show the ends of some complex artwork going up his arms. even though his lip ring is gone, he still has a lot of other jewelry hanging from him. Earrings and bulky silver rings and a thin chain around his neck. “um yeah i’m definitely getting ones,” you say a little louder than you intended. “but i need to know you are like, legit.” you say and he laughs. It’s a nice, deep laugh that makes your heart do flips. He says he can take you to the chair where he’ll go over the procedure and you can ask any questions you want. “so hopefully you’ll come back when you’re in a better, state and we willl start by sketching out some designs of the tattoo you want. we’ll work on that untr it’s perfect for your pretty self,” your ears perk up and blush at his comment. He notices and smiles back at you, “then i’ll print it out as an outline and trace it with a marker on the spot you want, once that placent is where you want it to be then we will start inking.” he says.
Sero starts talking again. About needle sizes, ink color, if you wanted shading and color or just an outline, blah blah blah. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t focus on his words when he looked like that. he sat directly in front of you, legs slightly spread, you could see the tension his muscular thighs were putting those tight black jeans through. Sero, with his pericings almost glistening in the overhead light, a light that contorted the muscles of his arms, was slouching and leaning forward ever so slightly so that you could see down his thin and baggy white t-shirt to his chest. He stopped talking but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his torso. god he looks so good.
He said something. Your name maybe? Then he was standing. It only took half a step until he was towering over you. His hand reached up to caress your jawline and lift your chin up to him. You could smell him now. Not the sandalwood that aired in the shop but him. He didn’t smell like a cologne, more like fresh sheets, warm vanilla with a hint of that manly musk. “you got it, princess?” he said. you could feel his warm and calloused hand against your hot, soft skin. god he definitely works out. you don’t get calloused hands from tattooing. you thought. “um yes. i-i- i’m sorry what do i got?” you replied. Suddenly the buzz you felt in the bar was back but this wasn’t from alcohol, you were high off something else. He laughed softly before saying “i asked if you understood everything i just told you. we you want i can schedule you for an appointment tonight.” his hand dropped from you face and planted on the table behind you. He was leaning down, closer to you. You could practically feel his breath, his lips on you. Sero’s eyes darted down to your lips, then slowly back up to you. His eyes were determined. Searching for any discomfort in yours as he slowly, and i mean slowly, attempted to close the distance between you two until,
the bell above the door jingled, causing the both of you to retreat quickly. “Found her !!” Momo exclaimed as she was dragging a very sad Ochako, face covered in ice cream, by her side. “O-Oh great !” you said standing up. Sero stood and backed up, giving you room to walk to your friends. He went behind the front counter and grabbed his scheduling book out from under it. Opening it he look at back at you, “so are you free next friday?” he asked clicking his pen, looking at you. “um, oh yes. yes i am after 4pm!” you replied. he scribbled something down and looked back up at you. “great then. i’ll see you at 5:00pm next friday.” he said with his million dollar smile. Momo then proceeded to tell you how late it was and how your group should probably turn in for the night. “I’ll walk you guys out!” Sero jumped into the conversation following Momo and Ochako already half way out the door. Then he put his hand on your lower back, guiding you out of his shop. You turn your head to thank him for letting you come in way past business hours. “don’t worry about it princess, it was my pleasure.” he whispered back to you. his lips softly kissing your neck for the first and last time that night before leading you out.
god you can’t wait until friday. now you just have less than two weeks to figure out what kind of tattoo you want.
you asked for scenarios with sero so i shall provide one (hopefully)
first date with sero where nothing goes right bc he’s very nervous and very clumsy
YES !!
he doesn’t understand how this happened. he even went to kirishima and bakugou asking how to plan this date out so that NOTHING would go wrong. yet here he stood. drenched with you under a bus stop, with ice cream smeared all over his pant leg.
it all started around 12:30. after 4 months of pinning after you, he managed to ask you out. well you kinda asked him out. it was late one night and you guys were texting. talking about school and stuff.
sero :p : yeah i can actually est Honkey’s ‘Tonk’ burger in 3 minutes and 23 seconds
y/n : NO U CANT ! stop lying
sero :p : I SO CAN !!
y/n : we’ll you’ll just have to show me, so i can see it for real :)
sero :p : i definitely should. how abt tmrw ?
y/n : sounds great ! 12:30?
and so that next day he waited by the school gate for you. you was mentally kicking himself for not offering to pick you up at your dorm but too late now. “sero? hey!” he heard from behind him, turing around he was met with you. how beautiful you looked in casual clothes: vintage levi jeans with a simple tight black long sleeve. your jewelry glistened in the afternoon sun and he had to come back from his haze to greet you. the beginning was going great! he ended up not ordering the hunkey’s tonk burger because, as mina said, making a lady watch you scarf down a pound burger was not a turn on. so he took you to a small thai place he knew of. the two of you talked, ate and at the end of the meal you offered to buy him ice cream.
walking down the street to the ice cream parlor sero couldn’t help but thank whatever forces are in control for a great date. the sky was getting a little cloudy but nothing serious. when the two of you went outside to enjoy your treats, a MASSIVE gust of wind ran right past the two of you. by some force it managed to roll onto seros lap, creating a big sticky splatter on his pant leg. you laugh it off and pull some napkins from your purse to blot it so at least it wasn’t wet.
he pulls you into the ally behind a the ice cream place and you crouch down to try and get most of the ice cream off. he embarrassingly tells you it is no big deal and he can get it himself but you won’t listen. you get up, sadly telling him that you did the best you could but he’d probably have to wash them. you can tell by his face sero is clearly in a bad mood now, so you led him back in the direction of the dorms. he hates himself now. he ruined a perfectly good day. well he didn’t directly ruin it but that doesn’t help his mood. he walks beside you, slowly. he can’t even look at you he’s too embarrassed. he doesn’t make small talk, and neither do you. not because you don’t want to talk to him but you just don’t want to make him uncomfortable.
he notices you open your mouth a little then close it, biting the inside of your cheek. he makes a mental note to ask you about it later when he’s more chipper. then you inhale, loud enough for him to hear and turn slightly facing him as you walk. he’s bracing for you to reject in one of the many ways he has become familiar too then-
a loud bang, and then crack, and then silence before the hard water falls from the sky. sero looks up. not believing that this too is happening right now. he looks down at you and expects dispoinemt, anger, saddness, any of those but he’s met with your pretty soft smile before meeting his eyes and grabbing his hand-
and you’re running. with him. hand in hand to the bus stop a hundred feet ahead. he can hear your laugh through the rain and wind gushing past his ears and ue can’t help but smile with you. the two of you stay thete, laughing and he apologizes.
“for what?”
“ruining your day. i know it wasn’t your plan to clean ice cream off me and get drenched in your pretty outfit.”
“you clearly don’t know anything about my plans, sero.” you say with a wink. after a moment of laughter you look back up at him. “you think my outfit is pretty?” you ask him in that sly tone. you see his muscular shoulders relax, as if he’s just let go of a breath when he says “i think everything about you is pretty.” with this eyes.
the two of you wait for an hour under the bus stop. chatting away about everything and nothing. when the storm is reduced to light sprinkles he takes your hand to walk you back to your dorm. kissing your cheek goodbye. when he walks back to the common room where his friends reside. they stare at him soaked head to toe with a noticeable darker stain on his pants, mina can’t help but cringe. “how did uh- the date go?” she ask nervously. expecting a defeated sigh come from him like all the other times but instead, he smiles “good. real good.” he replies as he grabs a soda and walks back to his room.