Hanta Sero - Blog Posts

i redownloaded the sims to make this

inspo from this pic

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.

okay so I'm thinking of writing an omegaverse fic where the reader (omega) is sold to the bakusquad (alphas). it would be about how the reader is scared at first but then begins to feel more comfortable cause the guys reassure her that she's safe with them (maybe eventual smut? idk). I'm thinking of adding a bit of smau as well but idk.

Underrated and yet still best boys

What I’m (hopefully) gonna release today;

Mha headcannons (for quite a few characters, including Mina, Kaminari, Sero, Izu, Shota and Iida)

K. Bakugou x chubby!fem!reader

H. Sero x chubby!fem!reader.

If I don’t release all of those today, then I’ll release whatever I miss tmr, cause those are the fics I’m working on in order, then I’m knocking out all of my reqs bc they’re building up and I feel bad, dw, they’re coming.

Anyways, here’s some stuff to look forward to!

Sooo…

Lots of people loved my Izuku x Chubby!Fem!reader, and I was wondering. I think I’ll turn them into a series, but I need to know who to do the next one for soooo

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚⋆˚☆˖°⋆

⋆.˚✮Lex's My Hero Academia Master List.✮˚.⋆

❤️‍🔥 - smut

💋 - spicy (not quite smut)

🌸 - fluff

🥀 - angst

🌺 - neutral

Izuku Midoriya.

⋆ New Girl, Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader. ⚝ 🌸

⋆ Panic Attack, Izuku Midoriya x F!Reader ⚝ 🥀🌸

⋆ Tattoo, Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⚝ 🌸💋

⋆ Drunken confessions, Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader. ⚝ 🌸💋

⋆ Cigarette. Pro Hero!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Detective!Reader ⚝ 🌸🥀

⋆ Sleep over. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader. ⚝ 🌸💋

⋆ Yandere!Reader x Izuku Midoriya ⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌺💋

⋆ Late night hangout. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Stoner!Reader. ⚝ ♡18+♡ 🌸❤️‍🔥

⋆ Rich!Reader x Izuku Midoriya ⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

⋆ Fem!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⚝ 🌸

⋆ Virgin!Izuku x Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡18+♡ 🌸❤️‍🔥

⋆ Laughing. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡ 🌸

⋆ Izuku Midoriya x Biting Love language!Reader ⚝ ♡Ask♡ 🌸

⋆ Teacher!Izuku Midoriya x Pro Hero!Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Ask♡18+♡ ❤️‍🔥🌸

⋆ Falling. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡ 🌸

⋆ Breathless. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡ 🌸

⋆ Bunny!Izuku Midoriya x Reader ⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡18+♡ 🌸❤️‍🔥

⋆ Aldrea!Izuku Midoriya x Foreigner!Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Ask♡ 🌸

⋆ Pro hero!Izuku Midoriya x Brat!Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Ask♡ ❤️‍🔥

⋆ Aldrea!Izuku Midoriya x Metal head!Foreigner!Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Headcannon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

⋆ Chubby!Aldrea!Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader ⚝ 🌸🥀

Teacher!Izuku Midoriya x Co-worker!Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Ask♡18+♡ ❤️‍🔥🌸

⋆ Stargazing. Izuku Midoriya x Fem!Reader. ⚝ 🌸

⋆ Bunny!Izuku Midoriya x Reader. Pt. 2.⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡18+♡Ask♡ 🌸❤️‍🔥

⋆ Izuku Midoriya x Chubby!Fem!Reader.⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

⋆ Nightmares. Teacher!Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader.⚝ 🌸🥀

⋆ Mha character headcanons⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

⋆ Bandaid. Aldrea!Izuku Midoriya x Delinquent!Fem!Reader ⚝ 🥀🌸

Katsuki Bakugo

⋆ Wishing. Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡18+♡ ❤️‍🔥🥀

⋆ Katsuki Bakugou x Chubby!Fem!Reader ⚝ 🌸

Shoto Todoroki

Coming soon...

Tenya Iida

⋆ Crushing. Tenya Iida x Flirty!Fem!Reader ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡ 🌸

⋆ Mha character headcanons⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

Eijiro Kirishima

⋆ Yandere!Reader x Eijiro Kirishima ⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌺

Shota Aizawa

⋆ Looking. Shota Aizawa x Art Teacher!Fem!Reader. ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡ 🌸

⋆ Realizing. Shota Aizawa x Art Teacher!Fem!Reader. Pt. 2. ⚝ ♡Valentines Prompt♡ 🌸

⋆ Mha character headcanons⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

Hitoshi Shinso

Coming soon...

Hanta Sero

⋆ Mha character headcanons⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

Dabi/Touya Todoroki

Coming soon...

Tomura Shigaraki

Coming soon...

Hawks

Coming soon...

Mina Ashido

⋆ Mha character headcanons⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

Denki Kaminari

⋆ Mha character headcanons⚝ ♡Headcanon/thinking abt.♡ 🌸

OBVIOUSLY NOT FORCING BUT MORE SERO HANTA SMAUS PLEASE YOU SMAUS ARE SO GOOD I NEED MORE AND SERO IS HUZZ😔🤍

low dose | h. sero

in which you didn't expect to like your dealer, but he keeps replying to your overly enthusiastic texts like it's normal.

tell my mom we're in love | h. sero

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.

Should I start writing?? 🤭 I have soooo many ideas I'm going insane soo let me knooowww

𝑴𝑯𝑨 𝑩𝒐𝒚𝒔' 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒔 𝑷𝒕.𝟏! (Pt.2) (pt.3)

𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 :𝘋.

Tsuyu Asui Headcanons for when she is cold

- Momo makes her a bunch of really warm outfits, coats, mittens, scarves, socks, blankets, you name it. She had to do a bit of research for making the materials, but she thought the extra work was more than worth it since she knew Tsu would be warm.

- If Todoroki’s there, you better bet your bottom dollar that he’s on her right. This was originally him just standing or sitting next to her, but not anymore. No, now he makes her cuddle with him on the couch and if their standing, she’s now on his left hip snuggling into him.

- This ^ happens at any given moment whether one of them’s in the middle of doing homework or having a conversation.

- Sato will bring her to his room right after he’s made her some kind of pastry so she can eat hot food in a really warm room. He will also make her soup so she gets real food into her as well.

- When Tokoyami sees her shivering, he gets Dark Shadow to collect as many blankets as he can to wrap her up in.

- Shoji gives her all of his sweaters and some pants to put over her clothes in hopes that they will keep her warm. He also will hold her and shield her when they have to go outside.

- Mineta originally opts for them taking off their shirts for body heat but after that didn’t go very well for him, he now makes her hot chocolate and refills the cup every time she finishes it.

- Kirishima sets up a workout for the two of them to do together to get her moving and sweating, Now whether that be an actual workout or Just Dance depends on the day and how cold she is.

- Uraraka runs a really warm bath for her with a portable heater in the bathroom so she won’t be cold when she gets out.

 - Sero tapes heating packs all over her body so she physically can’t be warm.

- Koda lets her play with his rabbit and she gets so happy from it that she forgets about the cold for a bit, especially when it’s cuddling with her and when she’s chasing it around. 

- Kaminari shocks her and as stupid as it sounds, it actually works for a little bit. After that, he gets her to race him through the halls.

- Midoriya makes her a fort of pillows and blankets in the common area where they just lie and cuddle. Sometimes, she ends up with her whole body - aside from her head - under the couch cushions and he’ll sit on a cushion that she isn’t under or he’ll chill on the floor.

- Jiro was surprisingly the one who thought about having pillow fights, rather than something less goofy. Nonetheless, it works and they have a blast.

- Mina tries to teach her new dances and sometimes they play a very intense game of leap frog.

- Aoyama gets her the warmest things he can find and has her put them on for their fashion show. They do this in the common area so everyone can see how ridiculous she looks in all of these fluffy sweaters, pajamas and snow pants.

- Iida raises the temperature of their dorm building until she is comfortable and everyone else has to be in their summer wear to be comfortable.

- Ojiro wraps her up with his tail tightly so there isn’t any room for the cold to get her.

- Hagakure tucks her into bed (since Tsu’s room is on the top floor, it would be warmer) and suffocates her with the stuffed animals she brought up with her.

- Bakugo will blow something up to start a fire and get her to sit with him around it or gets her to beat up a punching bag as he screams at her, which is something they do together even when she’s warm so she can let out some stress

Bonus:

Aizawa lets her use his sleeping bag during class.

*During a test after Aizawa left the class*

Kirishima: Psst! Sero! What did you get for question 6?

Sero: I got pollution.

Mina from across the room: What? I got 79 apples.

Kirishima: How did either of you get that?

Sero: I just looked at the cans and saw that there was a lot, which equals pollution when people throw them in the ocean.

Kirishima: I’m sorry, what-

Mina: I don’t think you did that right ‘cause I just counted all of the apples on the other side and it was 79. You definitely looked too much into it. What did you get, Kiri?

Kirishima, close to tears: I got that the store was too small because the shelf looked overpacked.

Kaminari: Wow, I guess I’m the only smart one here.

Kirishima, Sero, and Mina turning to Kaminari: What did you get?

Kaminari: I got that the store was in America since they have both apples and cans.

Sero: Holy shit, that’s genius.

Mina: I should have thought of that!

Kirishima, erasing his answer: If it’s in America then the shelves are probably packed because they probably stocked up that morning! Thanks, man!

Sero: Yeah, you’re a lifesaver!

Mina: Now, there’s no way I’ll fail! You’re the best!

Kaminari: No problem, my dudes.

Bakugo, snapping his fourth pencil: THIS IS A HISTORY TEST! THE QUESTION’S ASKING WHAT YEAR YOU THINK IT IS IN THE STORE AND IT’S MULTIPLE CHOICE! THE ANSWER IS RIGHT THERE! HOW DID YOU FUCK THAT UP!?

Kaminari: Silly, Bakugo. Those are the expiration dates of the cans and apples.

Bakugo: *screams and throws his desk at Kaminari*

Sero's Tape Headcanon

Kaminari breaks his only pencil by accident in the middle of class but instead of asking someone else to borrow theirs, he goes over to Sero and asks for some tape to fix it as a joke. However, Sero just smiles and says "Sure! Hang on a sec" and rips some tape from his elbow and hands it to him and Kaminari has to try to contain his laughter as he heads back to his seat.

As time goes on, he constantly asks Sero for tape for his totally destroyed binder and his broken sandals that and other stupid shit like a white bracelet but made of tape. All of this is just to see how long Sero would allow it. Surprisingly, he was never told to stop, instead he was just questioned on how he kept breaking his stuff so fast. With that, it became so commonplace that the other students caught on and would ask him for tape for their pencils, binders, worksheets, legs, etc.

Everyone approaches him differently. Just to name a few:

Bakugo just straight up tells him to give him tape, Kirishima just asks him with a goofy smile and rubs the back of his head and afterwards tells him he's the best, Momo asks kindly and then makes him his favourite chocolate bar to thank him, Uraraka smiles at him and asks him how he's doing before she asks for it, Midoriya is awkward and after he asks he will immediately start rambling about how he doesn't have to give him any if he doesn't want to, Mina's like "Bitch my leg hairs ain't getting any shorter. Your girl need tape", Tokoyami makes the exchange as quick as possible by apologizing for the intrusion and then thanking him for his generosity, and Todoroki is sooooooo hecking awkward and acts like he's trying to pick something to order from a menu but isn't ready like "can I uh have some... uh... you have tape, right? Like, your elbows? ...tape?"

All the while, Sero is wondering why nobody just gets it from the tape dispenser at the front of the class, but he is nonetheless happy to help.

Bonus:

Aizawa tells them to stop harassing Sero for tape and disrupting the class, even threatening them with extra homework if they don't stop. But this doesn't last very long as one day while everyone's writing a test or something, he just casually walks over to Sero and asks him for tape because he ran out and he doesn't want to waste money on more when there is a living tape dispenser that "won't forsake him like the others."

I don’t know why but I always seem to dislike the main protagonist then get obsessed with the characters who had like 2 minutes screen time. Sometimes it’s not even minor characters, just characters that the fandom never seems to acknowledge the existence of.

Who else is stuck in minor character fan hell, just me.

Which Class 1A Student Are You?

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...

Please please please i beg of you to make Sero head canons with a small mix of everything (I love him sm its sickening)

sero, who's the type to casually initiate physical affection—grabbing your hand out of nowhere while walking up a rocky hill, putting his head on your shoulders while sitting next to him, or leaning his arm across your shoulders like it’s second nature. he does it so naturally, so instinctively, that it doesn’t even feel like a gesture—just something that is so casual for him.

sero, who never lets anything go unnoticed. felt a cool breeze? he's already wrapping his jacket around you, even if you say you're fine. came home to find you passed out with your makeup still on? he’s gently wiping it off, knowing how much you care about your skin. noticed you're out of your favorite chips? he’s restocking without a word the next time he leaves the house.

sero, who never dims your light—not for a second. he could be having the worst day of his life, but if you walk in excited and glowing about something, he’ll match your energy without missing a beat. your joy is his joy, always.

sero, who brags about you constantly to his friends. “that mission? all them, i was just there for decoration,” or, “you’re struggling with that? ask them, they’re seriously the beeessstttt at it!” he finds any excuse to talk you up, like it's just a fact everyone should already know.

sero, who learned to make tiny origami animals with his tape. he’s not even sure when it started—just a little trick that turned into something more. now you find frogs and cats and birds left on your nightstand, each with a scribbled note underneath: made this just for you ღ

sero, who never pushes you or makes you feel overwhelmed. if you’re upset, he doesn’t ask a million questions. doesnt pressure you. he just shows up—snacks in hand, a quiet movie queued up—and sits beside you in silence. he waits, ever so caring, until you're ready to talk.

more of my works here

© plushieni do not copy, steal, translate, repost any of my work

bloom girlie, idk if someone has said this yet but i think hanta would low-key be obsessed with ben 10 from the 2010s (alien force?!) and call you spider monkey🤭

hi star!!! i totally agree this is CANON.

i feel like hanta would fit in perfectly with being a teen between 1990-2010’s [ i could totally imagine him with the whole baggy jeans, beanie, graphic tee, skater set up ] like he would liked tmnt, ben10, teen titans, power rangers and he’s suchh a scooby doo kid [ the original.. but honestly i think he would like teen titans go too ] he would LOVE regular show and adventure time. hanta would probably also be big on graphic novels too : batman, spiderman, x-men, basically anything hero related.

he’d make dumb references like calling you “spider monkey” or asking you to be his “MJ” and insisting on doing “spiderman kiss” sigh i love this dork

hi bloom☺️ can i pls request a smau w the mha boys and their overly sassy, and spoiled gfs!!

⋆˚࿔ whined and dined

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)

contains: gn!reader for all expect hanta, established relationship, fluff, baby + babe used

authors note: thank u for the request anon! this is so funny to me n yes i was hungry when i made this sigh. also i tried my best with the sassy part but reader is mooostly spoiled

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

Sk8 after Eight

Situationship!Skater! Sero x Reader

⋆˚꩜｡ Late night adventures skateboarding with Sero Hanta

A/n: For my baby @bloomstream! sorry its not so good :( just wanted to get something out, but if the people want a part two I wouldn't be against it

"Pssst. Get up.”

Harsh knocking on your window woke you up. Grumbling, you groggily got up, throwing your windows open. You already know who it was.

Sero Hanta.

You sighed eyeing him.

"The fuck are you doing here at 2 in the morning?"

"We don't even have school tomorrow??"

"SO? I can still sleep on a Friday night dude, god forbid."

Chuckling lightly he pulled himself up onto your windows ledge, before inviting himself into your room, making sure to leave his shoes on the ledge. 'Manners' and all that. Manners your ass. Manners would be using the door at a normal hour instead of whatever the hell this is.

You let him in anyways.

Sitting on your bed like it was his, he leaned back, looking at you with that infuriating ugly lazy smirk that always-

"Took you a while to answer sweets. Tried dolling up for me?"

"I was butt ass naked. Don't get ahead of yourself" You replied dryly, eventually chuckling at his furrowed brows.

"Think your so cute hm?"

"The cutest."

You held his gaze, unfaltering even when he stared at you like that. Not the way a friend should stare at you. Neither of you had ever called it out, and you didn't plan on doing so anytime soon. His eyes dropped to your legs.

"Get changed. We're going out." He was staring you in the eye again.

"No. You're getting out and I'm going back to sleep" You huffed, narrowing your eyes at him as a challenge.

Sighing, he got up and made his way to your window, pointing down to where he climbed up from. You followed, your hipbone digging into the sill as you leaned over to see what he was pointing at.

His skateboard.

You side eyed him.

"Really?"

Your face softened. You don't know why but his dejected expression pulled at your heartstrings as he murmured a quiet:

"Look I couldn't sleep. Your normally up at this time so I thought-".

Huffing you cut him off, grumbling but already walking to your closet.

Sappy feelings were never your thing, either of your 'things'. Your whole friendship was built off of bullying each other out of bad feelings.

Turned away from him, pulling your shirt over your head you started to get changed. You knew he didn't care, but that he would turn around anyways since he was so 'mannerly'. You had both gotten over the weird 'opposite sex!' awkwardness a long time ago.

You had both bought matching outfits last time you went vintage shopping. Denim jeans with a red star on the back pocket and graf tagged across the crotch, a large black jersey and a large black zip up. Considering he was wearing it right now, you might as well.

Humming to let him know you were done, you looked around for your fanny, putting your head through the loop to have it slung diagonally over your torso. It already had the basics inside; some wax, a silver skate tool for tweaks, A couple extra bearings incase any broke, a couple tissues, some snacks, a pack of gum and a silver paint pen if you found anything cool to do a throw up on.

Going over to stand next to him by the sill, you wrapped an arm around his neck, tucking yourself into his side as the other held your board. You felt his breath hitch, but chose to ignore it as he used his tape to lower you both out of the second story dorm room. When both feet touched the ground, you finally let go, albeit a bit disappointed but you started walking none the less.

Finally out of UA grounds, you dropped the board, letting it crunch over the gravel. You knew it was bad for the wheels but you were due for a change anyways. The two of you got on as you reached the main road, pushing them till the end of the road; just before the downhill. This was always the route you guys took to the skatepark, the steep decline exhilarating and nostalgic rather than the flat road round the other side that looped a million times to get to the same place.

You and Hanta lined up against the crack in the asphalt like you had done hundreds of times.

"Three"

"Two" You followed on.

"One"

Pushing off strongly at the count, you both barrelled down the hill, the wind blowing in your face making it hard to see as your hair whipped behind you and the chill of the cold night settled itself deep thin your bones. Looking to your right, Hanta was laughing, a manic crazed adrenaline filled laugh. You joined in, whooping and cheering as you only accelerated faster, just two kids who had the whole world to themselves with nothing to bother their undeterred joy. The moon shone brightly overhead, like an approving warm hug as you both prepped to stop as you approached the bottom.

Swinging your arms around to get the power for a powerslide, you clutched by kicking out with your backfoot and leaning back. Coming to a stop just centimetres from the tree, Hanta also stopped right next to you, following the same movements, but just as he skidded to a stop, he lost his footing, collapsing straight onto you.

"ge-roff me" You huffed as you pushed him off your torso. Your voice dripped of annoyance but maybe it was to ignore the way your breath had hitched when he first landed on you, the way you held his gaze for a split second and every cell in your body set alight and was hyperaware of every point of contact with him. Maybe it was an excuse as you brushed yourself off and tried to desperately push any lingering thoughts about his touch to the back of your mind as you offered him a hand and pulled him up. Maybe it was to avoid whatever the two of you are as you smirked lazily at him, taunting him.

"Didn't think you were such a rookie?"

"Maybe I did it on purpose hm?" He replied with identical inflection, a teasing lilt to his question.

Now it was your turn for your breath to hitch. Not sure how to deal with all the feelings swirling in your chest, you decided to just punch him in the arm before continuing to walk in the direction of the bowl, not turning around to check if he was following you.

You already knew he was.

© 2025 @Peachesvault - All rights reserved. Do not plagiarise/copy/post on other platforms. || Masterlist

i’m scrolling through the hanta sero hashtag and it’s just fanart, a seraph post, fanart, MY POST… more fanart, MORE OF MY WORK

bloom omg hiii! first time in the ask box.. kinda nervous. put can i please request head-cannons as the reader being the mha boys workout/gym crush 🤗

( and can u plssss include bakugo ! only if u want though no pressure :p)

⋆˚࿔ crushed reps

— includes: kirishima, kaminari, sero & shinsou (in that order)

contains: gn!reader, unestablished relationship to established relationship

authors note: sorry for the long wait anon ! n thank u for the request mwah. btw hitoshi is actually delusional abt every interaction you have. he goes home and breaks it down w the guys while gaming.

also no bakugo cus guys i cant but there are so many other amazing bloggers who can and will do it amazingly so pls request and follow them !!!

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro wouldn’t notice you right away, being so immersed in his own workouts, but over the span of a couple of weeks he can’t help but take note of you. 

when you're nearby he lifts just a little heavier than usual at the chance to impress you. if you so much as glance over at him and flash him a smile, he considers it a win.

and if you compliment him it makes his day! he tries to play it off but he can’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot. “ah, it’s nothing really! um, i saw you and— you were doing great too!” 

eijiro would finally ask you out by putting flowers in your locker and then popping up behind you like, “hey, you're a really stable lifter— wanna go on a date with me?” 

once you are officially dating you are also officially gym partners for life. 

eijiro falls into the habit of buying the same gym brand equipment as you because he’s now shopping for two and it’s easier. 

you two start your mornings by making protein packed smoothies alongside a nutrient rich breakfast. eijiro encourages early runs before work together and you always accept— he wraps a scarf around your neck, insisting that your workout outfit isn’t warm enough.

eijiro is discussing both your workout plans on your way to the gym and runs at any opportunity to spot you.

at the end of the day, you like to take photos to document your progress and eijiro flexing in the back of them has become your new normal.

eijiro makes a joint diet schedule that’s hung up on your fridge and plans ice cream dates on your shared cheat days.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

when denki first saw you at the gym— which was pretty soon after you began going because he’s always distracted at the gym — he lost track of his speed and flew off his treadmill. to no one's surprise, he spent the next couple of weeks watching you, not in a creepy way, but in an admirable one. 

you were consistent, confident, and exactly his type and he could tell all this without even having to talk to you.

your high gym attendance improves denki’s. now he spends hour-long sessions at the gym in hopes to run into or even just see you.

denki would come up with the stupidest way to talk to you for the first time. like he notices you’ve been focused on your biceps recently and challenges you to an arm wrestle. 

he goes home and practices complimenting you in the mirror, “woahhh nice form— no, that sounds weird. perfect form beautiful! …no not that. you are so sex— fuck.” (and maybe gets a little side tracked)

once he finally makes his move and you accept, he’s genuinely just sooo ecstatic to show you off at the gym. he loooves spotting for you, even if you don’t need it. 

denki loses his mind when you arrive with a new workout set that fits your figure just right, literally ogling at you shamelessly. he’ll say you need to fix your strap, no, he’ll do it for you just so he can get his hands on you.  

getting smoothies after working out is a new favorite part of both your routines. 

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

hanta sees you killing it on the stairmaster and immediately knows he needs you to be a part of his life.

he finds you at the front desk after one of his late night workout sessions, and sparks up a conversation with you. he’ll be sure to include how he notices you really like to do cardio and expresses his fascination for it.

from then on you two have a very flirty dynamic. there’s never a day where he doesn’t compliment you. 

he always brings an extra jacket just in case you want to do your exercises outside. 

hanta remembers your favorite energy drink, and somehow ‘accidentally buys two’ so he ends up giving you one. this happens more times than it should. 

hanta hears music blasting from your headphones one day and suggests making a shared playlist. he’d tease you for your music taste but listens to your favorite albums when he does solo runs or is studying.  

the first time you properly flirt back with him, he genuinely starts lagging. “yeah? really— i mean that great, you’re great.”

if someone’s creeping on you at the gym? he’s there in seconds. arm draped around your shoulders, casual but firm. “hey babe, you ready to go?” (he’d do this before you’re even official)

you could be doing two different exercises at the gym, but he makes sure that you’re always in his line of sight.

though hanta is an amazing boyfriend, he isn’t always the best gym buddy. all it takes is waking up next to you, breathing slow and peacefully as you’re tucked under his arm, for him to cancel his 8am workout session. and he’ll beg you to not leave his side when it’s time for you to get up. 

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi first noticed you because you actually wiped down the equipment after using it. that’s it. his knew his standards were already high and maybe you’d prove he wasn’t out of his mind. 

hitoshi unapologetically looked you up on social media when he got home that day and physically flung his phone across the room when he accidentally liked your latest post. 

he definitely didn’t avoid going to the gym for a couple days after that…

eventually, you two end up at the water fountain at the same time and hitoshi forces his resting bitch face to curl up into a small smile. it pays off when you tell him he’s cute and pointed out his one sided dimple.

hitoshi would only ask you out after you've complimented him a dozen times, he’s dropped a million hints, and he’s 100% sure you’re interested in him.

even after becoming official, hitoshi gets totally flustered if you compliment his progress and will try to cover it with sarcasm. “whatever it’s nothing.” (he’s blushing)

you’re the only person he ever gives unsolicited advice to gently. “if you adjust your grip just a little, it’ll hit your lats better.” it’s his version of flirting.

hitoshi stopped taking pre-workout and started stretching with you in the morning instead (and it has worked wonders for him.)

you’re genuinely his biggest motivation. he thinks you’re cool and wants to keep you around so as long as you’re the one kissing his biceps by the day and he will keep on fighting.

if you’re both facing the mirror, and he catches your gaze he tries soooooo hard to act nonchalant but you can see him smiling to himself and quietly hyping himself up. 

GUYS. what do we think about you and sero cutting out hearts from pieces of pink paper and writing insults on them with little hearts doodled all over and then giving them to eachother as an inside joke. sero discreetly slides a pink heart with "you're so stupid you couldn't find yourself in a mirror" and a kissy face doodle scribbled on it and slides it onto your desk during class while looking at anything that isn't you and you cover your mouth to stifle a giggle when you read it. during training you walk up to sero and slam a pink paper heart into his hands that you wrote "im going to beat you to death with hammers" on followed by a doodle of a smiley face and a hammer and then you walk away. he physically can't hide his smile when he reads it. you both keep a pile of every heart insult note you received from the other in one of the drawers in your rooms.

⋆˚࿔ 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.

sero post tmr !!!! i repeat hanta sero post tmr !!!!!

⋆˚࿔ 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

𐙚⋆° — reparation

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

warnings : i made this story from a dream i had guys pls pls sorry if its bad, reader is in support course :0, slowww buuurrnn, kind of IMPLIED but not explicitly said to be fem!reader (they just hang out a lot with the girls cause yea), LOTS of dialogue, and SWEARING , suicide joke SORRY

a/n : IM SORRY I MAKE SO MANY HANTA STUFF ZZZZZ i think i'll make eijiro next cAUSE this was kinda based off of this

➤ masterlist!

4,1k word count!

The Sports Festival was the first time you saw him. That lopsided grin present as his name flashed on the screen. Your first thought was how funny he looked. Sure, he’s cute, but those elbows are such a characteristic. You couldn’t help but snicker a bit. Seeing him get absolutely devoured by a certain two-tone haired, yet that smile persisted, as if it’s a stubborn stain, refusing to be washed away. 

You remember that time, texting Kyoka about it.

[ 12:30 ] you : was that guy from your class lol [ 12:30 ] you : he’s kinda cute :P 

And maybe that was the trigger point. 

When Higari asked your class to create a gear design based off of a quirk, you didn’t sketch out a gear for yourself, or a pro-hero, no. Maybe it was just inspiration, or maybe just admiration; but you made a gear based off of him. The page is still stuck in your notebook until now, complete with little notes of each parts’ functions and whatnot. Even Higari himself nodded in approval. Yet the gear never came to life.

Or so you thought.

It was the middle of the semester when students in the heroics course started flooding the workshop. Around that time Mei seemed to work tirelessly day and night from how many requests she’s gotten from them. You were not much different, although the requests sent to you were quite a bit easier. Then one morning, that same lanky figure, lazing grin and laid back voice was present. In flesh, Hanta Sero. 

His first awkward greeting to you was when you were carefully screwing shut a small contraption. 

“Hey uh…” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck while his other hand was holding something, like scraps of metal or something.

“C-can you help me uh… fix this?” His grin grew, a look of guilt present in his face, mixed with sheepishness. 

Your face contorted to confusion, brows stitched together while you attempted to figure out what was supposed to be fixed when all he held out was scraps of metals and screws. 

With a sigh, you lifted up your goggles, and said; “I can’t fix scraps,”

“I’ll just make you a new one. Just describe to me what your gear’s supposed to do.” You chuckled, hands already snaking to the table to grab your notebook and pen.

And now here you are. Second year, second semester. You had grown close with the girls in the heroics course, especially Mina and Kendo, since they visit the workshop a little bit too often.

It was lunch time, you sat with the girls from 2-A, chattering and laughing about.

“How about you, y/n?” Tooru’s voice chimed through your daze. “You never tell us anything!”

You raised your eyebrows in interest, a hum to respond. 

Tooru giggled, “You never tell us who you’ve got your eyes on! Come onn, there’s gotta be someone, right?”

You blinked. 

Someone..?

You huffed a chuckle, “Nah, probably someone soldering iron right now.” 

But then your mind flickered to that one page in your notebook. That lazy grin and those cheesy jokes he’d throw around while you measured his elbows, and how you’ve somehow memorized his blazer’s smell that always reeked of tangerines. Or maybe how he sometimes would bring your favorite snack with him, giving it to you as a token of gratitude.

Your eyes fell to your tray, your lunch still half eaten while your chopsticks hovered over your rice. “I dunno,” You shrugged. “M’ not really thinking of that stuff right now,” 

Mina whined, “See? I told you! It’s hard to get y/n’s mouth to open about these kinds of stuff!” 

A smirk tugged at your lips as you took a portion of rice into your mouth, chuckling at her acts. 

༉‧₊˚.

You hummed to the song playing in the workshop as you carefully placed a small chip into the gear laid in front of you. A small tweezer pinched in your hand as you slowly descended the small piece, only for the door to open with an ear-cracking holler.

“yyyyy/nnnnn” Hanta’s voice whined, his feet dragging him to your desk.

“My gear broke, again! Such horror…” He dramatically collapsed himself, placing a hand on his forehead as he handed out his wrecked gear.

You stifled back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you focused your attention on the gear on your desk again, carefully placing the chip.

“You do this every week like it’s a routine,” You chuckled.

He gasped, placing his hand on his chest. “Foul creature!” 

He stood up, pointing his finger to the sky while his lips twitched to a smile. “I must tell you, this gear is simply not able to contain my true power!” 

“Falling down the stairs is not true power, Han.” You grinned, screwing shut the gear as you examined it one last time.

“...Okay, fine I dropped it.” He huffed, “But it just means your work needs to be evaluated!” He argued, pacing back and forth as if lecturing you.

“You’re one to talk,” You snorted, setting aside the small gear to a box before turning your chair to face him, to face his stupidly grinning face.

He laughed, getting on his knees as he handed the gear on his palms to you like it’s an offering. “Pleaseeee, pleaseee, fix this, pleaasee?” 

With a roll of your eyes, you snatched the gear, placing it on your desk for the umpteenth time, your hands already readying the same screws, bolts, and everything the gear needed, already embedded into your memory like it’s your mother’s recipe. “I don’t even have to ask what’s broken anymore, Han, it’s that often.”

“Hey, it makes your job easier, riigghtt?” He nudged your shoulder. “Besides, it gives me an excuse to see you, don’t you miss me sometimes?” He asked, pulling a chair to sit.

You smiled, hands pausing on the gears casing as you were unscrewing it. 

“I guess,” You mumbled.

He chuckled, the sound coming out more like a shriek more than anything. 

“I gueeess” He imitated, you can even hear him sticking out his tongue at you. “Lying is bad y/n. Admit it. Your workshop feels dead without me,” 

“I like the quietness better, actually.”

He giggled, “Ouch, man, here I thought we were long lost siblings.” With a creak of the chair, he leaned to your desk, eyeing you from the side. “I’ll pay you back, ‘kay?”

“With what?” You chuckled, eyes fixed on the gear. 

“Banana milk,” He snickered, “And maybe if I’m feeling generous I’ll also buy you those steamed cakes you always eat since our first year.” 

“The fuck?” You snorted. “You remember that?”

He pssh’ed, “Duh?”

“You eat that shit like it’s a reward every time you’re done with like… five gears or something,”

Glancing sideways, you couldn’t stop the grin tugging at your lips. “You’re weird.”

“You love me,” He teased, pushing himself to stand up from the chair. “Those steam cakes are ass, you’re weird.” 

You mumbled a mock to him, sticking out your tongue as you reached out to grab a mold from the drawer. 

His steps receded as he laughed, hands buried in his pocket while he walked backwards towards the door.

“I’ll get the original flavour,” He yelled. “Byeeee,” 

Clack.

An hour and thirty minutes.

It took an hour and thirty minutes for you to finish that damned gear. To be exact, an hour and thirty minutes after you’ve finished the other gears before that. With a small groan, you stretched your arms above your head, your body’s slouch finally stretched out to fix your posture. 

07:30 P.M. — The clock blinked, red bold digital numbers as if reminding you to stop and close the workshop for the day. So you did. 

With a soft click, you locked the workshop’s doors, sighing softly to yourself while your other hand clutched your bag, keeping it on your shoulder. The floors of the building squeaked with the rubber soles of your shoes as you dragged your feet, echoing against the empty building.

Tucked away carefully in your bag was the reason. His gear, you even painted it in his signature colors; white, black, and yellow. Maybe that was the reason your clothes smelled like fresh paint all over, but you didn’t mind. You’d stuck a small note on it, written in your handwriting;

‘Don’t break this one >:(‘

The conversation from earlier rang in your mind again. Tooru’s sweet voice chiming that casual question, but somehow it bugs you a bit. “Come onn, there’s gotta be someone, right?”

Someone.

You chuckled softly to yourself as you mindlessly made your way to his class, no need to remind you again; his desk was third from the back, second from the right. 

With a small noise, you placed down the gears, securing it into his drawer before you silently made your way out of the dark, empty classroom, then making your way to your dorm. 

༉‧₊˚.

“Jeez,” Hanta muttered in awe, carefully examining the gears now resting on top of his desk. His grin grew as he saw the note, an expression—that of amazed and amused. His thumb grazed carefully over it, as if afraid to smudge it. 

Even the colors were spot on, too, his colors. Small details you had implanted to the gear—maybe it was to ensure that he doesn’t break it again, or maybe it was just your way of evaluating your work. Either way, he finds himself grinning from ear to ear as he chuckles, looking at his newly fixed gear. You’d put an additional hole on the strap so he can adjust it more accordingly, the edges were smoothed out so that it sits comfortably on his arms.

“Shut up,” He laughed, the sound coming out more gentle—awestruck, adoring.

༉‧₊˚.

Knock knock knock! — The workshop door opened slightly, creaking as a shuffling sound made its way into the room. He’s right behind me, isn’t he.

“Moooorning,” He sang out, shaking the plastic bag in front of you. 

“Banana milk, and steamed cake. Just how my favorite mechanic likes it.” He placed the bag beside your arm, “Yooouu’re welcome,” Pride laced his voice.

God, all you can do is smile, as you slowly peeked your hand into the plastic bag, peeking inside with the exact things he said. “You know you don’t have to do this aaall the time, right?”

“I know,” He shrugged, rocking back and forth on his heels. “But I wanna,” 

“...You’re just bribing me,”

“I’m for reeaaaalll”

“...Thanks, Han.” You hummed, smiling softly as you reached into the bag, unwrapping the small steamed cake. The plastic rustled against your fingers as you tried to open it.

“You suck at opening shit,” He snickered, snatching the cake from you, ripping it open before handing it back to you. “Hm, eat,”

You blinked at him, feigning offense. “I was getting there.” You said, chuckling. 

“Sure you were,” he teased, plopping down onto the nearest stool like he owned the place. “At the speed of a dying turtle.” The noise he made next was ugly. Imitating a grandma talking. 

“Screw off,” You giggled, sticking your tongue out at him but took a bite anyway.

He watched you, arms crossed and chin propped on the edge of the worktable, eyes all full of mischief and… something else. Quieter. Warmer.

“You should smile like that more often,” he said out of the blue, his smirk faded into a small smile.

Your chewing paused. “…Like what?”

He leaned back with a stretch. “Like you actually like me.”

You shot him a look. “Han—”

“Kiddingg!” he grinned, holding his hands up in surrender. “Juusst kidding.”

After a small pause, he spoke up, “I gotta go now, my first class is heroics,” Hanta smiled, slapping his palms to his knees as he stood up. 

With his hands in his pockets he walked to the door. “Byyyee, don’t miss me,”

“Oh, and finish the cake, it was super expensive.”

It had been like that for a little over a year now. He’d come to you, whining about his broken gear, begging on his knees for you to fix it—and every time you did so, you threatened him to never break it again or you’re not fixing it ever again. But that never happened. Every time he whined back to you, you’d fix it, no matter how much you groaned about it, you still fixed it for him. And he’d come to you the next morning to bring your favorites; always the same banana milk and steamed cake. 

And honestly? It stuck to you. It became a small little routine for you, something you’d grown used to. But today—after yesterday’s little chat at lunch—it felt special, somehow. It felt like he saw you, like he…

…cares about you. 

But that was just a silly thought. 

You snorted. 

Hanta’s nice. That’s what he is, nice, friendly. Welcoming to everyone, and you were no exception. 

༉‧₊˚.

God, these projects show no mercy. And if you weren’t that much of a procrastinator, maybe these wouldn’t be stacked up into a bundle that you had to finish by tomorrow. A small grumble left your lips as you tweaked the final blueprint, scratching down the stiff paper before huffing a small celebration, rolling it up to tuck it behind your desk. 

The clock showed the time—06:30 P.M.

Ugh. You missed your show again. With a small sigh, you stepped towards the door, rummaging through your pocket to ready the keys and lock the door. 

Clack. The door closed, the lock clicking softly as you turned it to the right, jingling before you stuffed it back into your pocket. 

“Like you actually like me.” His joke echoed. 

His joke.

You brushed it off, even though a small smile tugged on your lips as you adjusted your bag over your shoulder, steps light towards the exit. 

Wait. Is that…?

Standing by the gates was that same lanky figure, tall and lilt, hair slicked from the rain while his laugh echoed through it. You almost smiled, almost laughed at his face. Almost. Before you saw her. A small girl standing next to him, smiling so sweetly at him while his blazer was draped over her, fitting and perfect. The same blazer he usually draped over your shoulder when the workshop felt too cold, and he felt too warm. The one that had a small twinge of oil stuck to its cuff. The one that smelled like tangerines.

He said something. Something that made her laugh. And he smiled at that. He smiled at her laugh.

Like he was proud of it. 

You felt your chest twist. Scrunched up and stretched. The rain wasn’t making anything better. The fact that you’re tired and pent up from today made everything worse. 

So you ran. 

You ran past them, bag over your head as you picked up your pace, your face was wet, and cold, not just from the rain. You hoped he didn’t see you, didn’t see that grimace you had on your face, didn’t see the way you bit your lip. But you hoped he did. Hoped he saw you. 

The streets were blurry by the rain, thunder clapping above your head as you ran to the dorms. And you slipped. Slipped just enough to make you drop to your knees and scraped your palms. You groaned in frustration, in hurt.

So all this time you were just his fixer upper? Cool.

༉‧₊˚.

Two weeks.

It took him two weeks to notice something was wrong. Sure, you still fixed his gear, although he didn’t break them this time. Said they were ‘too pretty’ to be broken, but even that didn’t earn your usual witty remark, you just smiled faintly to him. 

But he brushed it off. 

Maybe you were just tired, maybe his trick of ‘breaking’ his gear was starting to piss you off. Maybe he needed a new excuse to see you other than fixing his gear. 

Maybe you were growing tired of him. Naaaahhh. No way, jose. 

You like his company, you enjoy being around him. He sees that, he sees you. 

…But why were you pulling away? Did he say something? Okay maybe he did throw a small offensive joke. But you always laughed at that! So what was wrong? What was so wrong that you’re not even laughing at his jokes? His actions? Him?

Okay, fine. Whatever. Maybe you just needed some space. 

So he gave you that. 

But the moment he came into the workshop shaking your usual banana milk and steamed cake combo, and you rejected that? 

“I’m good, Han. Thanks.” You replied. Blunt, short, precise, to-the-motherfucking-point.

Oh he screwed up. He screwed something up. 

“Oh, uh..”

“Okay, I’ll uh… give this to Denks then, dude eats everything.” He chuckled awkwardly, the plastic rustling by his side.

“Mhm, okay.” 

Shiiiittt he’s so screwed. 

You didn’t even chuckle, and that’s how he knew.

༉‧₊˚.

“They hate me. They hate me so bad. I’m killing myself.” Hanta whined to his pillow, Kaminari perched by the edge of his bed.

“They didn’t even CHUCKLE at me, Den.” He groaned, his muffled voice cracking as he threw his arms up.

Kaminari sighed, arms folded as he glanced at the ravenette. “You’re being dramatic, Han.”

“No I’m not!” He protested, shooting up from his bed to sit up. “I’m not, okay? I just—I don’t know what I did, I just—...” He sighed, flopping back into his bed, groaning as he ran his hands over his face. “I don’t wanna lose them, Den..” He mumbled in a trembling voice.

“Then tell them that.” Kaminari shrugged, a chuckle on his lips as he scooted closer, patting Hanta’s thigh.

“...How?” He croaked back. “I don’t even know what I did wrong, dude I just…”

“Two weeks ago we were fine, I even made risky ass jokes to them and they laughed! And when I was lending that girl my blazer—”

Kaminari whistled. “Bingo.”

The bed shuffled as he sat up, head darting to Kaminari’s way while his mouth hung open. “Shit.”

“Go, Han.” 

༉‧₊˚.

The halls of UA had never felt so… suffocating. He’s been here before, like hours like these too. Just now he feels like he’s risking his life as he stares at the slightly cracked open door of the support course workshop. His steps felt heavy, like lead weights dragged through the ground, and his mouth felt dry, like water had never touched his tongue, and suddenly the plastic bag in his right hand felt too plastic-y. The faint tune of your favorite song was humming through the air, as well as the consistent whir of the sanding machine. 

As he slowly pushed the door open, the creak felt loud—too loud. Loud enough for you to dart your eyes to the door and paused your hand. His throat fell dry, drier than before.

“H-hey,” He grinned. It felt too wide, too stiff. But he didn’t care.

You held your gaze on him for a moment, brows furrowed, and he swore even when he couldn’t see your eyes through your goggles, he felt your stare pierce through him. 

The sanding machine came to life again, louder this time as you ducked your head back to the gear in your hand. “Hey,” you mumbled back, not bothering to look at him.

“I uh…”

“I wanted to talk to you,” He chuckled, stepping just a bit closer, his hand gripping the plastic bag tighter.

Perhaps his portion of response from you had run out. You stayed silent as you continued sanding the casing of the gear, stopping briefly to examine it. 

“...Y-you’re mad, at me, …I think,”

“And I uh…I just… I wanted to fix that, y/n.” He shifted his weight between his feet, chewing his bottom lip as you slowly paused the machine, setting it aside on your desk.

“Why?” You bluntly asked. Perching your elbow on your armrest as you lifted up your goggles. 

God, you’re such a sight to him. Even angry and frowning at him like this, you took his breath away, if not more.

“B-because—...”

“I care?” 

“I mean–! I care, I care, …I care… a lot,” He grinned again, nodding as if convincing himself before he cleared his throat, louder than necessary. “I care… I care about you, y/n.”

His gaze fell to the ground, pressing his lips into a thin line, he shut his eyes. “I…I made a mistake, okay? A-and… I hurt you, and I’m… real sorry, y/n.”

“...I don’t…wanna lose you,” He breathed that out, coming out barely above a whisper while his hand gripped the plastic bag tighter.

“Look–.. that one time, y-you saw me with that girl at the gate? S-she meant nothing, okay?”

“I just…wanted to be nice,” He muttered quietly, almost as if in shame. 

“You’re always nice, Han.” You blurted, finally opening up your voice. It felt cold, different from what he was so used to hearing. “You’re always nice to everyone, aren’t you?” Your voice shook.

“...You probably think this is stupid, I don’t care.” You spat, your voice held a small tinge of anger in it.

“You made me think that you… you liked me, and—” 

“Because I do.” 

The words hung there, waiting for your response as the air conditioner hummed through the air.

“I…I do like you, y/n.”

“A lot.” He whispered quietly, his arms swinging in nervousness as he chewed on his lip, suffocated by the silence you answered with. 

You stared at him. 

Not just because he was standing there, but his words rang to your ears. It was what you wanted to hear. That confession, that maybe he cared for you for a reason. And he did. He did care for you for a reason. 

“For a long time now, okay?”

“I—... I don’t even know when– I just–...”

He sighed. “I just… really like talking to you, I like how you understand my dumb jokes, and you even—...it’s dumb, but you flirt back when I do, okay? And that shit was hot… for me.”

He groaned, wiping his eyes with frustration in his movements, throwing his head back as he stammered; “I’m screwing this shit up– I’m..” 

“y/n I’m just… sorry,” He said, finally looking at you. Hints of tears threatening to fall down his cheeks while he stared at you with desperation written all over his face.

“Please don’t… don’t leave,” 

And you wanted to cry, and laugh, at the same time. Cry because you’ve never seen him like this, because did he really just lay his heart bare to you? Laugh because God he looks ridiculous right now. So desperate, so sad, if this was a less serious moment, maybe you’d pull out your phone and record him. 

So you smiled, “I like you too,”

“H–..What..?” He croaked back, his voice unsteady as he looked up at you again.

“I like you, Hanta, I like you, back.”

He breathed out a laugh, finally smiling after what felt like his face was stretched down to the earth for the past few minutes, he grinned, running his hand through his hair. “You– what?” 

Ahem. “Okay wait, pause—” 

“C-can I–..?” A hand reached out to you hesitantly, sheepish and nervous, twitching slightly as if scared you’ll break if he touches you. 

Slowly, you reached back, enveloping your hands into his, letting him slowly pull you into his embrace. Warm, quiet, and… smells like tangerines. A small giggle escaped his lips as he brought his hand up to your hair, carefully caressing it. “Shit, I’m so— happy right now,”

His heartbeat was fast, shinkansen speed-kinda-fast, you heard it as you slowly buried your face to his shoulder, your arms awkwardly wrapping around his waist, and you couldn’t help but smile widely, nuzzling yourself into him. 

“I thought I messed this up, I swear— like, real bad, y’know?” He murmured into your hair, a hand gently resting over the line between your hip and waist. “I thought I lost you,” 

With a swift motion, he took off his blazer, carefully resting it on your shoulders, as he wrapped his arms around you again.

“S’ yours now,”

“...What?”

“My blazer—...your blazer.”

You giggled, lightly pinching his shoulder. “Shut up,”

“Hey come on!” He chuckled, “I’ll even trademark it for ya,”

You grinned against his shoulder, arms wrapping just a bit tighter around him.

“C’mon, I know you looovee me that much, but I know you’re also hungry,” His hand nudged your arm with the plastic bag, “I brought my favorite mechanic’s favorites,” He hummed out.

“Steamed cake and banana milk.”

He grinned. “Just how you like it,” 

And in the warm, quiet thrum of the workshop, under buzzing lights and the soft scent of sawdust and tangerines, it finally felt right.

Like home.

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

i gotta write other things other than this man i swear

⋆˚࿔ 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.

i just realized i’ve never made an smau with just my man