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their omega

જ⁀➴ chapter ten: birthday boy

alpha! bakugou, kirishima, denki, sero x omega!fem!reader⋆｡°✩ — baku's bday, you're in pre-heat, fluff, smau + fic, 4k words

m.list

a/n: 'explosives bday' gc from your pov

fic underneath smau

​​Contrary to your hopes, everything was not taken care of. Later that night, you awoke to the scent of smoke and shouting. You rolled out of bed and ran to the kitchen, following that putrid scent. Covering your nose, you walked in and saw Denki furiously fanning a black and smoking cake while Hanta rushed to open the windows and back door.

“What’s going on?” You said with wide eyes. The boys told you they had accidentally burnt the cake. You walked over to Denki and looked down at their charred creation. It was far too burnt to scrape off the black and call it a day. You sighed and told them you would take care of it in the morning.

They apologised profusely — Denki mostly as he was in charge of checking the cake — but you were too tired. You walked out of the kitchen grumbling that it was fine and you would just take care of it (like you should have in the first place).

The next morning, you wake up when the sun starts to rise. Stretching, you hop out of bed and freshen up before heading to the kitchen. You sigh gratefully as your alphas have cleaned up the mess they made last night. You walk over to the fridge and start pulling out ingredients for Katsuki’s breakfast. You’ve been thinking about what you’ll make him since the previous night.

Humming, you get to work. A gruff voice startles you as you crack an egg over the pan.

“What’re you doing up so early?” You turn around, eggshell in hand, and see Katsuki. He’s got a towel draped over his shoulders, sweat dripping down his rippled contours. Those training shorts reveal too much of his contoured thighs for his own good. You can feel your face heat up as you ogle at him. This sight of your alpha, still catching his breath, frowning at you as usual, and very sweaty, has tingles clawing up your skin.

Reflexively, you start purring. Katsuki’s sharp eyes widen as he hears that sweet sound emanating from your chest. You turn around and throw the eggshell in the bin, face aflame.

You attempt to sound confident but your voice comes out as whiny as you say, “Nothing. What are you doing up so early?”

The thump of your alpha’s footsteps on the wooden floor interjects the crackling of the egg in the pan. He wipes his palms on his shorts before placing them on your waist. You hum at the contact, at how warm and large his hands are. They caress your waist, and his damp chest presses against your back.

You pout, “Suki, what’re you doing?! You’re gonna get me all sweaty!” You look back at him, lips pushed together and looking so kissable. Your brow creases even more as you see the lopsided smirk on his lips.

You whine, “What?” He chuckles softly at you and nuzzles your temple with his nose. The softness of his gesture makes you purr louder. You turn back around and flip the egg, your face even hotter and redder than before. Katsuki holds you as you cook. He rests his head on your shoulder like a puppy.

You mumble, “What’s got you in such a good mood this morning?”

He mutters into your neck, “S’nice seeing you before everyone else.” He plants a gentle kiss on your unmarked skin. You moan quietly and relax in his arms. You gently ask him to move, and he does so you can grab a plate and take the egg off the stove. Katsuki watches you intently, memorising your every movement.

As you place the pan back on the stove, he says, “D’you want help?”

“No!” You exclaim too enthusiastically. You gaze at him, taking in the slackness of his jaw and the rise of his brows. The look soon fades as he frowns.

You shake your head, saying, “Suki, I love your cooking. You know that! But, I just wanted to do something nice for you.” You mumble, “And here you go, ruining it all by waking up early.” You’re hoping he misses that (considering his quirk and the toll it must take on his hearing), but he doesn’t.

He grunts, “Say it straight.” You stare at him for a moment before sighing.

You admit, “I was gonna make you breakfast in bed but now I can’t ‘cause you’re up.” He looks at you for a moment before laughing. His bellows resonate with you and bring a smile to your face.

“What?” You say, grinning. He shakes his head and gazes out the window before focusing on you. He comes back over to you and envelops you in his clammy embrace.

He kisses your temple again and mutters, “Make enough for two.” With that, he pulls back and walks away, heading down the hall to the bathroom. You stand there, robbed of the sticky heat of your alpha. His touch lingers on your skin, searing the delicate flesh. You hum, irritated, and shake your head. You can feel a fire swirling in the pit of your stomach. A familiar fire. One that only appears every few months.

Gulping, you resume your cooking. You obey Katsuki’s instructions and cook enough breakfast for the both of you. As you’re setting everything on the table, he stalks back into the kitchen in a fresh shirt and sweatpants. You motion for him to come over, and he sits in his usual spot. You make sure everything looks good before sitting opposite him.

You point to the different dishes, saying, “I made you an omelette, some French toast, and pancakes.” He watches you intently, revelling in the sight of his omega cooking for him and taking care of him. It sends sparks flying from his heart up his throat and to his fingertips and toes.

He starts dishing out the French toast while he grumbles, “You didn’t need to make so much.” You giggle and shake your head. He sets your plate in front of you, and you start cutting into your pancakes. You both eat in comfortable silence. As you reach for the maple syrup, you glimpse Katsuki’s towel-dried hair dripping on his broad shoulders. It makes you giggle, earning you a harsh stare.

“What?” He mutters, mouth half-full of chewed omelette. You shake your head, looking down and stabbing a piece of toast with your fork. He insists, grumbling about how you shouldn’t be laughing at him.

You chuckle, “You’re just so cute, Suki. How can I not?” You grin up at him, enjoying that disarmed look on his face, if only for a moment. Once you’re finished, Katsuki takes your plates over to the sink.

Still sitting at the table, you ask him, “Should we leave the leftovers here for the boys or?” Tch. Your alpha turns around with that deep crease in his brow.

He stomps over to you, grunting, “S’my breakfast. They can’t have any.” He stands next to you, his arms crossed over his chest and muscles deliciously flexed.

You gulp and laugh nervously before muttering, “Sure.” You avert your eyes from those yummy-looking biceps and shoulders, feigning interest in the kitchen table. Your cheeks become rosy from how hot you’re feeling, from how fucking hot your alpha is.

You stutter, “D-do you want me to uh—”

“Why’re you so nervous all of a sudden, doll?” His fingers grasp your chin and tilt your head back. Your wide eyes meet his narrowed ones as he stares at you intensely. You notice the veins in his jaw popping out from how tight he’s clenching it. Those furrowed brows. You whine and pout.

You whisper, “Don’t.” He cocks an eyebrow.

“Don’t what?” He grumbles, that knot in his brow growing. You whine low, feeling the heat pooling in your stomach trickling down your thighs and climbing up your breasts, setting your body alight.

“Please—”

“Woa, what do we have here?” Your heads snap towards the figures lingering in the doorway. Hanta smiles at you two teasingly while Denki stares past his shoulder at the food laid out on the table. The blond ducks around your black-haired alpha and comes over to you and Katsuki.

“Yum!” He exclaims.

Katsuki grumbles, “Don’t even think about it.” Denki gives the angry blond pouty lips and big eyes.

“Pwease,” he says, twirling a strand of his hair around his finger. You laugh, your hand wrapping around Katsuki’s wrist and gently tugging it off your jaw. You gaze back at Denki. He gives you those pleading eyes but you shake your head.

“Not my choice, baby,” you say.

He sighs, “Fiiiinnnneeee.” You chuckle as he plops down where Katsuki was sitting minutes earlier. Hanta tells Denki to scoot over and he does, so now both of them are sitting at the table, staring with ravenous eyes and grumbling bellies at the food that they aren’t allowed to have.

Katsuki sighs, “Can’t you extras cook?” Denki pouts and shakes his head enthusiastically while Hanta shrugs. You grab your angry blond’s hand, feeling the roughness of his skin slide against the softness of yours.

You hold his hand and look up at him as you say, “It’s okay. I’ll just make them something else.” This seems to have the opposite effect of that intended, making your alpha grit his teeth rather than relax his jaw.

He spits out, “Fine. Just save some for Shitty Hair, you pigs.” Denki claps happily, his enthusiasm making you laugh. You give Katsuki a small smile before letting go of his hand and grabbing three more plates. He stalks behind you and takes them from your hands after you turn around. As he sets them down on the table, a certain redhead waltzes into the kitchen.

Smiling, he wishes Katsuki a happy birthday, the other two boys following suit with cheeks full of pancakes. Eijiro sits across from them and starts piling the remaining French toast onto his plate. Katsuki lingers at the side of the table, grumbling to them about interrupting a precious moment.

Hearing that, you giggle and walk back over to him, a bounce in your step. You wrap your hands around his bicep, standing by his side. You rest your head on his meaty arms for a little, listening to the boys’ conversation.

Once everyone finishes eating, you all get dressed and head to the spa. Hanta offers to drive and, of course, takes a wrong turn. Circling back, Katsuki grumbles about how he should have driven. Such makes you all groan about how it’s his birthday and how he should be taken care of. Catching sight of your pout, your angry blond rapidly shuts up and resigns to incoherently muttering his frustrations.

Arriving, you all pile out of the car and head inside. Eijiro gives his name and one of the beauty therapists leads you all to changing rooms. You split up with the boys and head to the women’s changing room, stripping and wrapping the provided robe around your body. It’s nice and thick, cosy. You place your clothes in one of the lockers and head out, finding your alphas in the waiting area.

Soon, you’re called into two separate rooms; you and Katsuki are in one room while the boys are in the other. You smirk as you enter, glad that things turned out this way. You wonder if Eijiro asked for the two to be kept together or if this was just fate.

Under the direction of the beauty therapists, you both lie down on the two beds set out for you. They give you both a full body massage. Your therapist soothes the knots in your shoulders and back, as well as the tension in your calves.

As they work your calves, you hear Katsuki grumbling about not having enough pressure. He grumbles for a few minutes, making you laugh. Luckily, you can’t see the pointed look he gives you. Nor can you see how his features soften as he stares at you for a few seconds too long.

While you turn over to face upwards, you catch a glimpse of the therapist massaging Katsuki’s beautifully scarred and toned shoulders. The sight makes your heart thump wildly in your chest as you settle back down on the bed. Even as the therapist combs your hair back from your face with careful fingers, your heartbeat is off the charts.

You’re not jealous. Those thoughts haven’t even crossed your mind. No, what you feel is a deep sense of yearning. For that to be you one day, giving your strong alpha a relaxing massage after a long day at work. You make a note of that, intent to brush up on your massage skills.

The beauty therapist applies cold cleanser to your face with measured strokes, setting your senses alight with a chilly burn. You sigh with relaxation and pleasure as they wipe off the freezing gel and apply different lotions and serums to your skin. Especially when the therapist uses jade rollers to soothe and de-puff your skin.

When your treatment is finished, the therapists leave the room, giving you and Katsuki time to rouse yourselves from the renewing journey you’ve been on together. Sighing, you look over to him. You grin, seeing how utterly relaxed he is.

You sit up and shift so that you’re facing him. He doesn’t move, and you gaze at him for a few minutes quietly, burning the memory of him like this into your mind. Finally, you clear your throat and call his name. He doesn’t respond so you call his name a bit louder. And then a bit louder.

You hop off the bed and quickly put on your robe before walking up to his bed. You stand beside him, staring down at his angelic face. A smile stretches across your mouth as you lean down, your ear to his chest. He’s breathing slowly and calmly. You jerk back and step away as you giggle.

Regaining your composure, you come back to his side and gaze down at him. You’re tempted to leave him to sleep in the room, but they probably need it back now to prepare for the next clients.

Sighing, you thread your fingers in his hair, gently stroking his locks and thumbing his hairline. Your alpha sighs, and at last, his eyes scrunch and open. Within seconds, they focus on you.

He groans, “Babe, what happened?” His voice is so raspy it threatens the strength in your knees.

You chuckle nervously, your mouth suddenly dry as you say quietly, “You fell asleep.” He grunts and sits up, the towels pooling in his lap and leaving his torso far too exposed for your thin self-control. You gulp as he throws them off and slides off the bed, towering over you.

Before your eyes can dip too low, he grasps your chin and kisses you tenderly. You moan into his lips while your arms wrap around his oily shoulders. Mumbling his name into his mouth, you pull back and look up at him.

Katsuki peppers your face with light kisses before drawing your body into his by your waist. He rests his forehead on the junction of your neck and shoulder, breathing in your sweet scent. Your very sweet scent. He groans, inhaling your musk.

He mutters into your warm skin, “I get it now.” A confused noise escapes from your throat.

“Get what?” You say softly. You can feel the grin on his lips as he presses a kiss to your Adam’s apple.

He murmurs along your jaw, “Making so much f’me this morning. ‘Don’t’.” He chuckles, “Pre-heat.”

“Shut up!” You whisper-shout. You pull back and stare at him hard, a crease in your brow from the wide smirk on his plump lips.

You pout, “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” He laughs derisively at you.

“Not tell anyone? Take one whiff n’ anyone will know. I’m not even your mate n’ I know,” he shrugs. You shove his shoulder hard but, like the solid wall of muscle he is, he doesn’t even budge. He laughs off your feeble attempt at dominance.

You grumble, “You’ll be my mate soon, so shut up. And get dressed.” You glare at him before stalking out of the room and heading to the changing rooms. You take your time getting dressed. Before you return to your alphas, you take a deep breath and steady yourself.

You’re experiencing this odd mix of relaxation from your spa treatment and anxiety over your mates knowing that you’re in pre-heat. You don’t know why you don’t want them to know. They have a right to. They need to know so they can help you through it. But the thought of them knowing scares you. What if they get the wrong idea? What if they force you into intimacy you’re not ready for?

“Okay,” you exhale, speaking to yourself in the mirror. “You know that they would never do that, so stop freaking yourself out. Everything is gonna be fine. Everything is gonna be fine.” You brace yourself and leave the changing room, meeting your smiling and laughing (except for a grumbling Katsuki as per usual) in the lobby. Eijiro foots the outrageously expensive bill and you all leave happy.

Denki holds your hand and won’t stop yapping about how relaxing the treatment was as you walk back to the car. You giggle and lean your head on his shoulder after he clicks your seatbelt in, listening mindlessly to his rambling. Katsuki keeps an eye on you in the rear vision mirror (he’s driving this time).

From the passenger seat, Hanta suggests going out for lunch. Your alphas are quick to agree, and now Denki yaps about the ramen place nearby. You hum and let them decide. Eijiro squeezes your knee from beside you and asks for your input, you hum and reassure him that you’re content with whatever they choose.

You end up having sushi for lunch at a nice restaurant near your house. When you get home, you book it to the kitchen, dragging Eijiro with you and telling Denki to keep “explosive foul-mouthed anger issues chef” occupied. Your pick of alpha though has Katsuki’s eyes trained on you, curious if there would be a repeat of your time with Eijiro last week (which there will not be btw (at least not right now hehe)).

You two decide on a fresh strawberry and cream cake for your angry blond. You get to work on the cream while Eijiro chops the strawberries. When the cake is finally in the oven, you’re both covered in flour.

Cream covers your fingertips as you boop Eiji’s nose just so you can grab his face and lick it off. Your affection has him drawing you tight into his arms and kissing your cheek. Your sticky palms press into his “MAN APRON” as you lean back, his lips pressing against yours.

Your kiss is gentle. Eijiro pulls back first and rests his forehead on yours. His long, tanned fingers stroke your soft skin while he tells you he’s going to put on a timer. You hum in response, and he walks off to find his phone.

You put the bowl of cream in the fridge and clean up the mess in the kitchen. When he returns, he washes the dishes and you dry them, grinning all the while. You hum softly to the song stuck in your head and he listens quietly, in love with how comfortable you are around him now.

You two wander into the living room as the cake cooks, walking in on an intense game of UNO.

Katsuki jabs his finger into Hanta’s chest, yelling, “YOU FUCKIN’ CHEATED, TAPEFACE. YOU CAN’T PUT A FUCKING PLUS FOUR ON A PLUS TWO.”

Hanta leans back with the pressure of your angry blond’s finger, defending himself, “Yes you can, Bakubro. I do it all the time. Everyone does it.” He looks at you two with pleading eyes as you sit at the kotatsu.

“Eijiro-kun tell him,” Hanta pleads, nodding to Katsuki.

Your redhead chuckles and says, “I don’t know man I don’t normally stack.”

Katsuki grunts, “THAT’S RIGHT, YOU FUCKWIT. NO STACKING, just pick up two.” Hanta looks at you with big eyes, silently begging you to vouch for him. You shrug, not really in the mood to fight with Katsuki over stacking or no stacking in UNO.

Your angry blond wins the round (of course), and Hanta deals you and Eijiro in for the next one. The entire time, Katsuki’s eyes are on you. He can’t stop staring at you, and he can’t afford to lose this round. As much as he doesn’t want to, he crushes his baby girl with three pick-up fours since you’re sitting next to each other. After picking up your twelfth card, you’re begging Hanta or Denki to switch with you, but they won’t.

Saved by the timer going off, you call it quits for the round and dash off the kitchen. You put back on your flour-stained apron and a pair of oven mitts before taking the cake out of the oven and placing it on a cooling rack. You stick a skewer in the cake and grin as it slides out smoothly. You leave it to cool for a few hours, heading back to the living room and rejoining UNO for the next few rounds. When it becomes apparent that no one but Katsuki is winning this game, you all switch to playing charades.

After spending 20 minutes trying to guess “toaster” from Denki’s foul acting, you head back to the kitchen and grab the cream from the fridge. Eijiro trails in after you and cuts up the last few strawberries while you use an icing spatula to spread the cream all over the cake. He decorates the top with strawberries, and you two step back to admire your work.

You squeal and jump into his arms, happy that it looks so good. Your alpha laughs and pulls you into a sweet kiss. He then releases you and grabs the plates and cutlery while you go to the living room and tell everyone the cake is ready.

You strap a birthday hat underneath Katsuki’s chin while Eijiro places the cake you worked so hard on in front of him. You all sing an embarrassed Katsuki an off-key happy birthday, which has him red-faced and whining about your shit vocals.

Your birthday boy cuts his cake and plates a slice for all of you. Katsuki’s eyes widen as he takes a bite. He stares at you, the shocked look on his face making you cover your mouth and laugh.

You chirp, “You like it?” He hums and takes another bite, quiet until he’s finished. You can’t stop smiling as you eat together, overjoyed to spend this time with them.

Afterwards, you give Katsuki his presents. Denki got him the newly released official folder for All Might trading cards, Hanta bought him a Hello Kitty Lego set, and you got him a cocoa-chestnut candle. He grunts out his thanks and even gives you a little forehead kiss to express his gratitude.

That night after dinner, you all curl up on the couch and watch an action movie of Katsuki’s choosing. You cuddle into his side, his arm awkwardly slung around your shoulders initially before he eases up, holding you close without shame.

Your eyes are droopy as the movie drags on, the shouts of men and sounds of gunshots fading into the background of your tired mind. You sigh into your alpha’s pec. He gazes down at you, smirking possessively. He hikes the blanket up to your chin as you melt further into his body.

By the end of the film, you’re sound asleep in his arms.

Your alpha whisks you away to his bed, lays you down in it, and gently kisses your forehead. He then gets ready to sleep and climbs into bed with you.

As he slowly wraps his arms around you, you sigh into his touch and inch closer to him, blissfully unaware. With slightly pink cheeks, he pulls you close and kisses the side of your head. He mumbles into your hair for you to keep sleeping before closing his eyes and resting peacefully.

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⋆˚࿔ 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.

HIII BLOOM !!!! i was wondering if you could do a lil fluff drabble of you chilling with sero in his room during like a talking stage ?

⋆˚࿔ the synonyms of epitome

authors note: siri what is a talking stage. seraph thank u for requesting ⸝⸝^ᴗ^⸝⸝ sorry for the wait!!

contains: gn!reader, unestablished relationship, fluff, awful flirting

word count: 1.1k

“and she was the—“ hanta glanced up at you. his eyebrow lifted as he looked at you through the stray hairs that had fallen from his shaggy— surprisingly well kept —mullet. you could see his jaw lock into a comfortable smile as he propped it up in the palm of his hand.

“epitome.” you nodded in confirmation. 

it was only midday, so you could hear the distant sounds of footsteps and murmurs of conversation coming from the ua lively students outside. you glanced at the blossoming cherry blossom trees out of hanta’s slightly ajar window. the blush dusted leaves fought against the wind, constant rustles confirming its battle. 

you rest your head against the headboard of hantas bed and took it all in. the wind whistled loudly, sharing secrets with the inner shell of your ear. you liked days like this. simple.

“epitome,” hanta copied from the foot of his bed. his pointer finger followed the words in the book mr. aizawa had assigned for your ancient history class too long ago. 

you had already read the book and wrote your review paper on it two weeks ago but when hanta came to you asking if you wanted to read the awfully boring novel together, who were you to say no?

hanta had a way of making everything feel more alive. over the past few months you, and a handful of other people, have taken notice of how much the two of you spend time together— in how much you enjoy his presence. 

he didn’t have to be telling a dumb joke or making fun of something stupid denki had done. something as simple as being by your side while you’re folding your laundry or mindlessly browsing on your phone, was enough to make you feel so unreasonably good. 

there was something special about your relationship with hanta. something that hasn’t been spoken about on surface level. but the signs were definitely there. 

“she was the epitome of beauty.” hanta finished the sentence, he brows knitting together. “epitome.” he said again. he pinned the book onto his bed with one hand and idly fiddled with his ruffled sheets with his other. 

“he’s basically saying she’s the perfect embodiment of beauty.” you said. “he really likes her.”

hanta nodded his head slowly, “but when he talks to her he acts like he doesn't care?” hanta asks, but it’s clearly his question is coming from curiosity and not confusion. 

you let out a short hum in reply and thought of the best explanation. “well.. maybe he feels too nervous when he  talks to her and can’t show his true emotions?” you tap your fingers against the spine of the novel. you hadn’t given the half baked romance trope of the book much thought but hell if hanta was asking, you were suddenly interested too.

hanat scoffed, shifting from his position. “if i thought someone was the ‘epitome’ of beauty,” his words started off strong but seemed to slowly tumble into a declaration of uncertainty. still he went on, “i would talk to them before anyone else could.” he let out an airy breath. “but i guess i don’t blame him for being nervous.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. 

you nudged his leg from your spot on the bed, “so what? you see someone you like and immediately ask them out?”

hanta’s eyes flicker to your smirking face,  “i see someone i like and i become their friend.” his eyes fell back onto his bedding. he was really admiring the 100% cotton material. 

“uh huh.” 

“and maybe, eventually, i would ask them out after a couple of years.” he says, his finger making a swirling motion.

“a couple of years?!” you exclaimed, shooting up into a  straightened posture, “you’d make the person you think is perfect wait years for a confession?” you asked, a finger pointed at the tape boy as you suppressed a laugh. you didn’t expect hanta to be so... timid. “who would wait that long?” you asked, genuinely curious.

hanta finally peeled his eyes away from his sheets. his tone indicated that his confidence quickly flooded back, “someone who really likes me too.” he stated, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

it was your turn to shift positions now, suddenly feeling like you were under interrogation, when you were really just under hanta’s gaze. your finger fell at his shockingly mature reply. “i guess that makes sense..” you bite your lip.

hanta chuckles at this.

you sighed before you spoke again, allowing your curiosity to get the best of you, “sooo what type of person are you even into?” 

in the couple of years you’ve know hanta he’s never actually had anyone he was talking to, at least not that you know of. and for some reason you felt the need to learn everything about him. it was only natural, right?

hanta shrugged, “someone who can put up with my bullshit.” the book was abandoned now, his idle tracing too, leaving all his attention on you. 

his eyes lit a dangerous fire under you, one that scuffed the surface of your interest. not to the point where it burned, but it left your skin unusually warm. “that leaves your playing field pretty empty huh?” you choose to tease, knowing that if you thought too hard you’d send yourself into a red faced spiral. 

hanta laughed, rubbing his forehead as he shook his head. “not completely empty.” he remarked, something about his words hinting at a subliminal message. “what’s your type then, cerebrito?”

the question caught you by surprise. you hadn’t had time to focus on building romantic relationships with others. you mostly focus on strengthening the relationship you had with your friends, hanta being your strongest. 

“i guess i would like to date someone who can make me laugh. and who likes to spend time with me.” you replied, purposely being broad. hanta had a telling look on his face, making you intrigued to what he was plotting.

hanta nodded, clicking his tongue. “would you like, be into some guy who likes to read boring ass books with you?” he asked carefully, almost like he was ensuring he could play off as a joke if you didn’t answer adequately.

you smiled, ignoring the increase in your heart rate and the sirens blaring in your head. leaning forward, you

force yourself to gently shove his chest, “i would be into a guy who knows what the word epitome means.” you bite back— though it’s more of a playful nip . 

hanta raised a brow and put on a smile, “oh? so you wouldn’t be into a guy who’s the epitome of stupidity?”

he's so stupid. so stupid and so your type. 

“i’m into guys who finish their homework.” you tapped the edge of his copy of the novel. 

hanta settled back into his original position, grinning like he had just won a golden prize. “alright y/n. give this guy a couple of hours and you won’t have to wait any longer.” he brought his focus back to the work below him, “i promise.”

all in a day's quirk | sero hanta

pairing: Sero Hanta / Fem Reader

length: 5.3k

summary: Sero gets hit with a quirk that makes others see him as the person they are most attracted to. Which you really wish you had known before you opened your mouth and gave him your usual, “Hey, Sero!”

tags/warnings: pro hero au, fluff, misunderstandings, quirk accident, not actually unrequited feelings, smut, thigh riding, fem reader (no pronouns but AFAB genitalia terms used), aged up characters

It was approximately four thirty-three p.m. when Sero Hanta returned from patrol and blew your peaceful day to bits.

Before his arrival, the Todoroki Agency had been relatively quiet, as it usually was around this time, everyone but the on-call staff winding down for the day. You’d been hearing the telltale rustling of jackets and scuffle of feet in the office behind you since the clock ticked past four.

Not long after, a couple of your friends from the analytics department had wandered over to your desk, clearly deciding they were not going to get anything else done, gossiping and stealing the candies you kept in a glass bowl on the reception counter.

“I heard Shouto’s manager is considering signing him up for a shirtless charity calendar,” Mari told you immediately, wiggling her eyebrows. “Hana from brand management said she was asked to do research on the impact the calendar had on other pros’ careers, so I think this is serious.”

She looked beyond pleased, her cheeks pink and her ears tipped red, the way they always were when she contemplated her massive crush on your agency head, Todoroki Shouto.

You couldn’t fault her–Shouto was incredibly handsome and kind, if a bit spacey–but you’d always been drawn to a different pro hero on the agency roster. Someone just a little bit taller, with dark hair and a half-moon grin, a razor sharp sense of humor, and the most inconceivably mouth-watering thighs in the pro hero business.

Not that you had been giving them attention. Much.

You suppressed the urge to ask if anyone else from the agency was being considered for the calendar, wiggling your eyebrows back. “Well I know you’ll be the first in line.”

Mari’s blush deepened, and Kimiko laughed around an orange-flavored candy, which you stocked for many reasons other than a certain tape-themed hero’s predilection for oranges, thank you very much.

“I just hope they include Uravity-san,” Kimiko said. “I mean–not shirtless shirtless, but like, god would I kill for her in a little sports bra.”

Kimiko sounded unaffected, but you’d literally hidden her beneath your desk the time pro heroes Uravity and Deku visited for an agency team-up with the Todoroki office. She’d spent the entire time peering out with big eyes, muttering under her breath, “I am so gay. So very very gay.”

You didn’t doubt if Uravity were included in the spread, Kimiko might even beat Mari out for the first spot in line.

“You both have such kind hearts,” you laughed. “So eager to give to charity.”

“I’m a lifelong philanthropist,” Mari agreed, picking up your pen and doodling hearts all over your office stationery. You noticed she colored in only the left side, and suppressed another laugh.

Whatever. You knew what it was to be that whipped, even if you’d never do anything about it.

As huge as your thing was for Sero, there wasn’t a chance in hell he returned your affections. He was incredibly friendly, but over the past few years, he’d never even given a hint that he was into you like that. He’d treated you with the same easy cheer and subjected you to the same good-natured roasting he did everyone else in the agency.

And now was not the time to go looking for more, anyway. You’d recently become close enough to see Sero outside of work and you were not about to endanger that–you’d been invited to a house party of his a couple months ago, gone to drinks with him and a couple of agency people after work, and even grabbed dinner alone a few times over the past few weeks. You’d been texting memes practically nonstop this entire week alone.

He was so much fun, always quick with a joke, a wink, or an interesting story, and he wasn’t afraid to tell things like they were. You forgot time was passing when you were with him, and sometimes when you went out, you stayed out long enough that you thought he might, too.

So you were finally reaching a stage in your friendship where Sero clearly felt close and comfortable—you would not press for more.

It was just, sometimes, when he smiled down at you with that clever, mischievous grin, your heart felt like it was experiencing some sort of medical event. Sometimes, when he put his dark hair up into a messy half-bun, those biceps cording as he did so, it felt like someone had just vacuumed all the oxygen straight out of your lungs. Sometimes, when he leaned down to whisper something to you in his most conspiratorial tones, it felt like someone had spiked your brain into a blender and pureed it into mush.

But it was cool.

You knew how to play it cool.

Mari pulled you back to earth with the promise of more gossip—this time, about her arch nemesis in accounting—and Kimiko leaned in, offering her own commentary over the unwrapping of another of your candies.

And then the clock struck four thirty-three, and Sero Hanta returned from patrol.

You heard the telltale mechanic ping of an agency badge passing checkpoint, and peeked around Kimiko to see Sero trudging through the doorway, looking strangely contemplative. He was covered in dirt and his uniform was slashed in several places, including a great deal of shredding about the thighs, which you would have been happier about if he didn’t look so unusually subdued.

He didn’t look hurt at any rate, so that was good. But you couldn’t help but call out to him.

“Hey Sero!” you said, curious about his demeanor. “How’d patrol go? Something happen?”

Kimiko and Mari turned around, and you watched as both of them seemed to freeze up. Kimiko’s hand slapped against the reception counter, the sound echoing through the room, gripping tightly as though she’d suddenly seen a ghost.

“Ur–Uravity-san,” she said, dipping into the most formal bow you’d ever seen her make. “What’s brought you here?”

You felt your mouth pull into a frown, staring at the back of her head in absolute bamboozlement. Was she seeing things? The only person in the doorway was Sero, and he was very much unaccompanied.

His helmet was propped between his hip and his elbow, so his face was clear too–so Kimiko didn’t even have the excuse of not being able to see his face, different though his costume was from Uravity’s.

Sero blinked, his mouth pulling into a semi-puzzled grin. “Uravity?”

Mari was slapping Kimiko before you could inquire the same thing, hissing, “Are you losing it? That’s fucking Shouto.” She turned back to pin you with something between a glare and a concerned, assessing gaze, as if you too had lost your marbles.

You frowned back, your own concern deepening. “I’m sorry–are you guys seriously telling me that Shouto and Uravity are here with Sero?” You peered back around Mari at Sero, quirking a brow at him. “Did they get hit with some kind of invisibility quirk or are these two experiencing some kind of hallucination?”

Maybe too much shirtless calendar talk had gotten them too hot and bothered.

Sero’s dark gaze pinned you, and he quickly came tromping over, his boots echoing on the stone flooring. He leaned over the reception counter, pointing to his face with one long, pretty finger. “Wait, you can tell it’s me?”

He smelled like cement and sweat and dust, and something vaguely minty, like he’d been chewing gum recently. You tried not to let your expression show how much you liked the look of him up close, those hooded dark eyes, his wide, charming mouth.

“Um, yes? I have eyeballs?” you wondered.

Sero blinked, leaning in closer. Your heartbeat ticked up. “You’re sure?”

“Should I not be…sure?” you asked. “Are Shouto and Uravity really with you and I’m the only one who can’t see them?”

Sero shook his head, “Nah–it’s just me.”

You frowned up at him, curious. “Then why are they calling you Shouto and Uravity…?”

Sero shook his dark head. His hair was pulled into that half-bun you loved, the way it usually was under his helmet on patrol, and all mussed from whatever run in he’d had. You tried not to think about what other activities might get his hair all mussed like that.

He smiled, something wide and conspiratorial. “Got hit with some kinda illusion quirk. People have stopped me like a thousand times on my way in to ask for All Might’s autograph, or Hawks’, and even Bakugou’s. They’re lucky it was just me, he’d have thrown a shit fit getting cut off in the street like that.”

Sero’s features shifted into something slightly more contemplative again. “But you’re somehow immune, huh?”

You frowned. “Shouldn’t you get checked out at medical, then?”

His eyes softened, and another grin made its way onto his mouth. “Yeah yeah, I’ll head right there.”

Kimiko and Mari were still gaping over at him like he was a miracle, and some strange feeling came over you, a concerned little squeeze of your heart. You grabbed Mari, plonking her down into your seat in your stead. “Cover me for a couple minutes? Just say people are unavailable and take notes and I’ll figure it out when I get back. I’m gonna run down to medical with Sero for a second.”

Mari nodded dumbly.

You pulled Sero’s helmet out of his grip, resting it in the crook of your own elbow, and gestured him down the hall with you. Sero fell into step beside you, keeping up easily with his long stride. He grinned down at you, seemingly unperturbed that he’d gotten hit with a quirk that had all but erased his identity in the eyes of others.

It was something you admired in him, his inherent good-naturedness.

You wondered why you were the only one who could tell it was him.

“Any good gossip while I was gone?” he asked, like he really couldn’t be fussed about his predicament. “I was starting to hear shirtless calendar talk before I had to head out on patrol.”

You suppressed a flush and fought down the urge to ask if he’d been asked to be in it too.

You did not need to know.

“Whatever the hell is going on with you is the spiciest bit of gossip all day,” you told him, rounding a corner and badging into the stairwell down to the medical floor. You clung to the railing carefully and most definitely did not watch his thighs bunch as he took the stairs. “Want a drink after work? It seems like you could use one, after this.”

Sero smiled, an eyebrow raising. “Trying to get me drunk, huh?”

You wrinkled your nose. “As if I’d need to be so underhanded.”

You did. You did need to be so underhanded.

Sero had to angle himself carefully through the door, his shoulder pieces liable to snag on the doorway with the breadth of those pro hero shoulders. The medic on staff took one look at him and flushed, mumbling out a name you didn’t know.

You piped in before she could say more. “Cellophane’s been hit with a quirk that makes him appear like someone else. It’s not whoever you think!”

She blinked curiously, but then nodded, probably having seen much weirder things in her time as a hero agency staffer. She gestured Sero to a cot on the side of the room. “Alright, please sit down, Cellophane. We’ll do a couple quick tests and then get you sorted with the right quirk cancellation.” Her cheeks seemed to heat again as she spoke, but she made good on her promise, disappearing down the hall, calling to someone for quirk testing strips.

Sero hopped up on the cot, swinging those long legs, grinning at you from eye-level, now. “Think I should prank a couple people before they cancel it?”

You rolled your eyes. “Only you would be having fun with this. No one in the world knows who you are!”

The corner of Sero’s mouth pulled wryly. “You do.”

“You don’t know if that could change, dude. Better get it over with before you get stuck as like, Endeavor forever.”

Sero laughed, light and airy. “Shouto wouldn’t hang with me anymore.”

You nodded. “Exactly, and none of the rest of us read the same weird manga you guys are into so you’d be all alone with no one to fanboy about it to.”

The medic returned with a thick silvery strip, pulling on blue nitrile gloves as she did so. Sero held his arm out obligingly, the lean muscle flexing in the fluorescence of the office lighting. She peeled off the backing of the strip, pressing it to Sero’s forearm, pushing it down firmly.

She attached a cable to some screened device, and you listened to the beep of various buttons. Sero watched you over her shoulder, his easy smile still in place.

Finally, the device in the medic’s hand beeped, and she pulled back, announcing somewhat shyly, “An attraction-type quirk.”

You blinked, mystified. A what?

Sero’s grin seemed to freeze on his face, and his thin brows furrowed the tiniest bit.

The medic continued, oblivious. “This quirk creates an illusion. External parties will perceive the affectee with the traits or as the person they are most attracted to.”

Sero’s dark eyes snapped to yours, widening, and you fumbled a step back, almost tripping over yourself. You threw out a hand, barely catching yourself on the counter.

No.

Oh fuck no.

If people were seeing who they were most attracted to…and you had just seen Sero the whole time…

That would mean—that would mean—and he had heard you say—

“Oh my god, I just remembered I have to get back to Mari,” you said, offering Sero a wave of your suddenly numb hand. “Can’t, um, strand her at the desk for too long. I’ll leave you guys to it. Uh, yeah. Thanks–bye!”

You quickly threw yourself out through the door, leaving Sero alone with the medic. You dashed back up the stairwell, your heartbeat shooting into your mouth.

How could this be happening? How unbelievably embarrassing was that? You’d worked so hard to play it cool in front of Sero for all this time, for years, really, and you’d finally just made it to a comfortable place as friends.

And then—and then—some attraction-illusion quirk goes and blows your cover, just like that? For real?

And he’d heard you, too. Heard you say, “Hey, Sero!” as soon as he’d come through the door, before anyone had revealed anything about who else they thought he might be instead. Before you could have possibly had any clue that he’d been quirked.

You could die of mortification.

You shooed Mari and Kimiko away from the desk when you got back, quickly readying your things to get the hell out of the office as soon as your night replacement arrived. You cleaned up all the bi-colored hearts Mari had doodled on every available surface of your desk and refilled the candy bowl Kimiko had apparently seen fit to devastate in your absence, your ears heating with the thought that Sero could catch on now, why you stocked orange candies.

God, could your replacement hurry the fuck up before Sero got back here?

But the night receptionist was predictably late, of course, and by the time you finally saw him badge through the front entrance you could hear quick, booted steps across the tile behind you.

Sero’s voice sounded over the back of your chair, just as a long-fingered hand closed around your wrist.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice more careful than you’d ever heard it. “Still up for that drink? I think maybe we could talk over it.”

The night receptionist nodded at you and Sero as he made his way over, and you gave up your chair to him, collecting your bag with Sero’s warm fingers still clutching your wrist. You slowly worked up the courage to look up at him, face heating as you took in his uncharacteristically intent expression. His face had been cleaned and it looked like some antibiotic had been applied to some of the scrapes along his jaw.

You knew then you’d trapped yourself. Though it was probably also better to get things over with now than avoid the subject forever.

“Okay,” you said, trying to keep your voice normal. “Yeah, let’s talk.”

Sero was the nicest dude ever, you had to remember that. Even when it came down to a rejection, he would still be completely kind and friendly. Probably not too much would change on his end afterwards either. You couldn’t imagine him avoiding you or treating you any differently.

“My place okay?” Sero asked as you shrugged on your bag.

You nodded, and he smiled, nearly as wide and silly as he normally did, tinged with only the slightest bit of shyness.

You’d originally planned to take him out somewhere fun, but this conversation was probably best had in private. And Sero’s place was close, an apartment only a couple blocks’ walk, in a charming little neighborhood fringed by a park and a variety of interesting bars and cafes. Sero chatted away with his usual friendly ease as you walked, still in his shredded hero costume, waving to the couple people that recognized him as you did so.

Your stomach flipped as he opened his front door, gesturing you inside under his arm. He was tall and lanky enough that you fit easily, and you caught a whiff of that minty scent again under all the dust that coated his uniform. You tried not to look too closely at the lines of his bicep as you passed under it.

His apartment was just as you’d remembered it; spacious, casually decorated in neutral tones with splashes of interesting patterns spread across the rug, throw pillows, and his collection of wall hangings. It smelled cottony and clean, and Sero gestured you to his couch as he dumped his helmet and boots in the doorway, shrugging off his shoulder pieces.

“A beer cool?” he asked as he made his way into the kitchen. “I’ve got a couple of good ones.”

“Sounds great,” you told him, listening to the sounds of him cracking the caps.

To your surprise he plopped down on the couch next to you as he came back in, handing you a bottle. It was cold, and your fingers made little prints in the condensation where you touched it.

“So,” he said, turning to you, a sly look in his dark eyes. “You wanna talk about what just happened?”

Your face flamed, and you took a quick sip of your beer to give you time to recover yourself. It was sour on your tongue, a hint of orange peel in its profile.

“No,” you told him honestly, giving him a self-conscious smile, which he returned. “I think it’s pretty clear, actually. You got hit by a quirk that shows people the person they’re most attracted to and I, uh, obviously saw, um, you.”

Sero’s grin pulled wider at the edges, surprising you. If you didn’t know better, you would think he liked hearing that. Although maybe it was a little bit of an ego stroke to hear you were someone’s fantasy man, even if you didn’t return their feelings.

“Not All Might and not Bakugou,” he said, something pleased in his tone.

You blinked at him, disturbed by those insinuations. “Definitely not,” you sniffed. “I am a paragon of taste.”

Sero laughed, his fingers flexing on the side of his beer. Then he took a sip, seeming to contemplate something as he did, and you drew yourself together, preparing for the inevitable. That was definitely a look that said he was thinking hard, probably about the best way to let you down.

But then Sero grinned back down at you, leaning in collusively. “You wanna know something?”

You could feel your brows raise curiously, even as your heartbeat picked up with his proximity. You looked down, then accidentally spied the strips of tanned thigh where his costume had torn, and had to quickly reroute your gaze for fear of staring. “That depends.”

Sero’s grin went even more sly. “I think if you’d been hit with that quirk, I’d have known it was you too.”

Your heartbeat slammed to a halt in your chest. It was only when Sero threw a hand out that you realized you’d lost your grip on your beer, his quick reflexes the only thing saving his carpet. You startled at the sudden move, making a weird arm-flinging motion somewhere between grabbing for your beer and grabbing onto him, ending up accidentally smacking him in the chest instead.

“Fuck, I—sorry!” you garbled out, stunned by his sudden proximity and the fistful of his costume you’d taken. His skin was warm against the side of your hand.

Sero blinked, looking taken aback for a moment. Then he shifted, and you heard the clink of two beers being deposited on his coffee table. You swallowed, unable to look away from him, and you watched his dark eyes rove over your face, before dipping down to stare at something just under your nose.

A shiver prickled up your spine.

“So when you—with the quirk—” you tried, but your brain had gone offline, and the right set of words were not coming to you. “Um, when you say—you would have known—?”

Sero’s grin crept back across his mouth. “I mean that I’d have seen you, because I’ve been wanting to ask you out and trying to figure out if you're into me for months.”

It had to be the shock of this admission that registered you so stupid. “You—months? Try years.”

Sero’s laugh beat back the instant wave of mortification that overcame you in the next second, when you realized what'd you'd just said. You could only smile back helplessly, equally pleased and embarrassed. He looked so good right then, too, grinning toothily, his hair a mess, his costume torn to shreds. He really was the most gorgeous guy you had ever seen, that quirk had totally had your number.

It suddenly dawned on you that you had little else to lose now, with everything out in the open. And when Sero looked like that—sly, pleased, and a little bit of a mess—you thought you were done trying to bury things.

A thrill zinging down your spine, you leaned in and pressed your mouth to his.

He’d been laughing, and you only caught the edge of his mouth, but Sero quickly corrected. You could feel his lips go slack in surprise for a second, and then he was schooling himself and returning your kiss with abandon.

Long fingers came up to take your chin, holding you firmly in place. It was so unexpectedly bold that you shuddered, kissing him harder. Your hand tangled further in the fabric of his costume, gripping onto him for dear life as his tongue met yours, twisting and teasing. It was so like him, the way he kissed. Teasing, playful, easy. Your head spun with how much you liked it.

“Aw fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” Sero said, when he finally pulled away far enough to enunciate the words. He shifted against you, putting a large palm against your back, pulling you to him. You followed his guidance, climbing into his lap, chasing his mouth again. You wanted more—more now that you thought you could have it.

“I’ve been wanting—for years—” you said, squeaking in surprise when Sero guided you down onto a strong thigh. It was hard and thick and way too muscular to be allowed, and your breath left you in a harsh hiss. And because this was the most embarrassing day of your life, Sero clocked it immediately, leaning forward in interest.

“You—like that? My—thigh?” he asked curiously.

You could feel your face burning, like someone had just dunked it in a bucket of hot coals. “I–yes. I like everything about you. Including your thighs,” you admitted.

Sero’s hand guided you back down against him, pressing his knee up experimentally. A thrill sang through your veins at the feeling of a piece of him so warm and firm right up against your core. You barely bit back the noise you wanted to make.

“Fuck, this is weirdly hot,” Sero said, leaning in to take your mouth again. You could feel him growing hard against your knee through the fabric of his costume, as his tongue flicked against yours, making your brain go a little woozy.

His arms came around you, holding your waist as he ground his leg up into you, sending a wave of pleasure striking through you like lightning. The moan you’d been trying to hold in finally broke free of you. “Ah—Hanta!”

The sound seem to spark something in him. Sero surged up, his hands making quick work of your shirt as he kissed you, still rocking you against his thigh in a way that made you see stars. You had the wild thought that everything about him was more than you’d ever imagined it would be, from the delicate press of his fingers to the warmth of his thigh to the way the strands of his hair that had escaped brushed across your forehead. Embarrassingly fast, like he knew exactly how to play you, he worked you up to the crest of your pleasure.

You had to put a hand to his chest to stop him.

“Hanta, if you—I’m going to cum if we don’t stop—” you said.

“Oh my god please,” was his only answer, and he pulled you down onto his thigh with renewed vigor. Sparks of pleasure pricked all over your body as he kissed you again, his hands roaming every inch of exposed skin. He left bruising kisses down the side of your throat, fingers playing with your nipples.

Another few rocks into his thigh sent you right over the edge, and he held you against him as you rode it out, squirming against his thigh.

“This is the hottest thing that has ever happened to me,” he said, something in his tone making it clear he was not done with you yet.

He helped you wiggle out of your pants, freeing himself of his own costume, and laid you out over his couch, grinning. He was golden with a fading summer tan, and his smile was so wide and charming and white against the dimming light from the windows. He was gloriously lean, hard with dense, compact stretches of muscle, every single inch of him honed from years of hero work. He was perfect—so stupidly, handsomely, perfect.

Between his thighs, his cock was just as long and lean, heavy and flush with arousal. It made you dizzy to think that this man, who you’d crushed on for so long, wanted you like this—wanted you back in the same way you’d always wanted him. You motioned him closer, too eager now to be self-conscious about it.

Sero laughed, a happy noise. “Fuck, you’re so pretty though.” He stretched out over you, sliding in between your thighs and guiding himself into you. His chest pressed to yours, hot and slick with a light sheen of sweat already, and you hissed with the feeling of him slipping inside you.

You felt drunk with arousal, crazy with want. You clutched him to you as he moved, thrusting carefully at first, as if testing the feeling of you, and then more firmly. You let out soft noises you hadn't meant to, which Sero seemed to appreciate.

“God, look at you. Listen to you,” he said, grinning down at you, his dark eyes tracing over you. “I can’t believe I got hit with that quirk. This is the luckiest day of my life—you’re so cute. So—fuck—so perfect.”

He slid into a frustratingly sedate pace, strokes long and languid, stretching out almost teasingly. You wrapped your legs more tightly around his hips, trying to press him into you, but his smile just widened. He moved leisurely, setting his own pace, just on the wrong side of too slow.

It drove you insane, somehow working you up even faster than if he’d been doing what you wanted. You muffled the sounds of your own moans against his lips, gripping onto those broad shoulders. Sero’s own fingers slid down to your clit, playing with you just as lightly and teasingly as his thrusts.

You could have killed him, but all you could do was hold onto him, slurring his name appreciatively.

He worked you like that for a while, bringing you close but never too close, drawing out the feeling into something warm and fizzy, like soda left in the sun. But eventually the band of his control seemed to snap, and he began thrusting into you harder, faster. Those long, lovely fingers circled your clit with more intent as he did, murmuring a steady stream of praise.

“Please—cum with me,” he panted into your mouth, as his fingers drew ever-tightening circles over you. “I want you to come with me, Y/N. Can you—can you do that?”

You nodded frantically as his thrusts grew faster, sloppier. He was so good inside you, so good over you, his fingers such a delicious pressure against your clit. It only took a few thrusts more, a few strokes of those careful fingers, and then you were squirming against him in earnest, your veins going molten with pleasure.

“Hanta—I’m going to—!”

“Yessss,” he hissed, and then he was orgasming too, spilling out his pleasure inside of you. His hips slapped yours in a stuttering pattern, half-crazed, and you shook against him, gasping. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest as you crested the wave, until finally—finally you went limp against him, just as his own body relaxed over you.

“I want to be hit with a quirk all the time,” he said, ridiculously.

You couldn’t help but laugh, smiling into his shoulder. “Don’t make a habit of it.”

Sero hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t know. If this is what I get every time, then…” he trailed off, smirking down at you.

“I’m not going to bang you if you’re going to be irresponsible,” you told him.

He perked up, however, those dark eyes peering at you hopefully. “But you’ll bang me otherwise?”

You laughed again, pinching him lightly on the arm where you held him. “What do you think having a crush on you for years means?”

His grin went all sly and pleased again. “Then I’ll have to lock it down, of course. I haven’t spent months wondering just to let you get away. Starting with dinner this evening, maybe. Do you—would dinner be okay?” he asked. The sound of genuine, eager hope in his voice was so gratifying it made you want to kick your legs in the air.

You settled for nodding instead. “Dinner sounds amazing.”

“Then I’ll arrange the finest takeout just for you,” he said, which you knew from experience meant the empanadas place around the corner. You laughed again, feeling full already with the promise of an easy meal, and a relationship to come.

“Whatever you want sounds good to me,” you said, even as he began to slide off of you, helping you up alongside him. “You’ve had a crazy day today, empanadas sound like the perfect cap.”

Sero leaned in, his expression as mischievous and charming as always. “It’s nothing,” he said, even as he carefully held out your shirt to you again, guiding you into it in an unexpectedly gentlemanly move. You let him stuff you into it, laughing, smiling into the kiss he gave you as you emerged.

He winked at you as he found his phone and dialed, smiling as you heard the call connect. “After all, I'm a hero," he said. "And it’s all in a day’s work.”

★﹒₊‧ 11:10pm

sero would find you at 11:10pm the night before your exams, asleep on the cold marble counter in the kitchen of the dorms where you were studying. instead of leaving you there or waking you up, he carefully picks you up, kola style, and brings you to your bed, then goes back to pack all your things back into your school bag. he visits you one last time in your room. he says it's to make sure you didn't wake up confused within that 10 minutes, but actually it's so he can slip into bed with you. he knows it's against the schools rules to have sleepovers in the dorm on school nights especially after 8pm, but when you gravitate towards his body on that cold november night, wrapping your arms around his slim frame, it's worth the possible weeks detention.

Rings- A Sero x Reader Fanfic (Chapter 2)

Chapter 1

Your hand is interlocked with his. Your eyes are too busy studying the cherry blossoms floating down from the trees, the beautiful Mt. Fuji in the distance. he rustling of his jacket falls on deaf ears. His free hand resting on the velvetly fabric, his thumb moves over it in an attempt to soothe his racing heart He would either walk out with a fiance or a broken heart, Hopefully the former. You gently squeeze his hand, pointing out at Mt Fuji, as snow flies off the top.

"Look! Isn't it pretty!" He smiles, his attention on you rather then the Mountain " It's gorgeous" he mutters. You hear him take a deep breath and glance back at him as be brings your hand to his mouth, his kisses leaving tingles on your skin.

"I love you, Y/N. And I really don't deserve you" "Hanta" "please, Amor," You fall silent... is he breaking up with you?

"Amor, you're stunning. and I'm... plain," he glances up at you, meeting your eyes. "You've never asked for more then what I have. I honestly don't know how you're so patient and caring" a chuckle escapes his lips and he sinks to one knee, still holding your hand "Amor, Y/N L/N, I love you. ads..." he grasps the box in his pocket. "I would love to call you Y?N Sero. Has a nice ring to it, yeah?" he emphasized ring... and added his name to yours... you gasp at the realization, your eyes locked on the velvet box in his hand. he releases your hand, only to open the box. I was a lovely ring. It had a lovely sparkling stone, your birthstone. On the inside of the band, your name was ingraved next to his, the only thing separating them was a heart, "Y/N L/N, will you-" you didn't even let him finish.

"Yes!"

you jumped on him, pressing your soft lips to his. his hands in your hair sending shivers and thrills down your spine.

"Don't ever call yourself plain, Hanta"

Hanta Sero x Reader Oneshot: Rings

Chapter 2

You listen cluelessly as the people around the table all chat in Spanish. You can pick up little snippets of what they're saying from what you remember of middle and high school Spanish classes- that you passed with a C. Not your proudest moment. You feel a calloused hand rest lightly on your thigh.

As your eyes mect his he smiled, gently squeezing the fat of your thigh, "Sorry, mi cariño. My family doesn't know much English." he whispers under his breath, pressing an apologetic kiss to your temple.

You smile at the kiss, gently leaning on your pro-hero boyfriend's muscular shoulder. "Not your fault, " you mutter. "I wanted to meet your family." You glance around the table. They really were a lively bunch- just like him. "She's a good cook." you mutter, leaning over him to grab a rice ball from his plate. You hear him chuckle as you pop the rice ball in your mouth. He wraps an arm around your shoulder, gently squeezing you against him "too bad I didn't get her cooking stills him?" You scoff remember all the dishes he had burnt. "My life would be much easier if you did, trust me. "you mutter, recalling all the times she'd cleaned up the burnt remnants of his most recent codding failure. "Hmm, you know, I got lucky with her as my mother" uh oh somethings off, he never says 'mother' unless he's mad with her or it's a joke, Its made clear which one as he finishes his sentence, "y'know, maybe someday she'll be your mother-in-law... he mutters in a suggestive tone, putting his arm around your shoulders. You crack a smile and bring a hand up to muffle your giggles, "Why? Planning to gut a riny on my finger?" he hummed playfully. "eager much? Well, one day for sure" he glanced down at you. "I don't even have plans to get a ring yet." he chuckles and flicks your forehead playfully. You pout, unknown to the fact that there was a small velvet box in his bedside table, right next to the bed where you two cuddle and talk in hushed whispers. Though soon, the velvet box will be moved to his pocket as he waits for the perfect moment...

~Notes from me~

OHHHHH WE NEED MORE SERO ONESHOTS!! This was so fun to write!! Part two anyone??