"um, oh yes, 'course," you reply mumbling and looking down, trying not to say anything that you'll regret.
this wasn't meant to be an overnight mission, a few hours tops but things escalated more and more until you both decided to call it quits for the night and rent a room at a hotel until the morning.
you don't know if it's the exhaustion or if it's something else when hanta books one room. you don't speak up to say you wanted two rooms either, but you know it's likely not the exhaustion with you. this is like a dream come true for you.
hanta's nonchalant behaviour normally calms you down and makes you feel at ease but it's not working this time. even his little joking jabs at how dingy the room is and how the villain needs a new wardrobe didn't work. you're pretty sure that one of the reasons he does that is to cheer people up and make them laugh when they're anything but cheery or somethings gone wrong and wants to lift the mood. your head is buzzing, it's quiet but constant, like vibrations, and it won't stop- you're going to share a room for the night.
"is everything okay?" hanta looks at you with worry in his eyes and you try to give him a reassuring smile.
"yep. i'm sure."
hanta is sitting on the couch, his gear on the floor next to him and is looking up at you. he wets his lips and drags his eyes up and down your soft figure. he's nearly able to convince himself that it's platonic and he's concerned about your well-being after a long tiring day. "do you want the shower first?"
you feel the grime underneath your fingernails and the caked dirt over your face. you see the marks left over from hanta's quirk on your arm from when he had to use his quirk to swing you quickly to rescue you and get out of the way from an attack. "s-sure that's sounds grea- good! yep all good!" you trip over your words and hope to sound casual.
hanta smirks, he'll never get over how cute you sound every time you do that. he rests his head in his hand and grins. "are you sure you're okay?"
you quickly nod your head, trying to think of a quick, convincing lie to tell him. "it's just that i'm worried about you sleeping on the sofa!" you rush out. "we've got work in the morning and it doesn't look comfortable in the slightest, you- you might not be able to get a lot of sleep."
his grin gets wider at your words, "well we could always share the bed." hanta says teasingly.
you splutter as your brain stops working, you know he's only teasing but your face feels hot.
hanta watches you as your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes.
he's so glad that you didn't say anything when he asked for one room.
. . . in which you and SERO are left behind for the duration of summer break and have to find some kind of trouble to get into . . .
including but not limited to: friends to lovers, mutual pining, gender-neutral reader (no pronouns), brief non-sexual nudity, a little suggestive, 1 unserious suicide joke, u.a. college au (but it’s summer break), latino sero my king <3
🎫 now playing: swing lynn - harmless, last nite - the strokes, champagne coast - blood orange, kids - mgmt, summer girl - ian hugel, pool house - the backseat lovers, summerboy - lady gaga
it’s probably nearing a million degrees out (even though summer has barely begun), and you’re sitting in front of the fan staring at the most inactive group chat known to man.
seen by katsuki bakugou and five others.
if phones weren’t so expensive, you’d have thrown yours across the room by now.
movement, at long last! typing bubbles appear at the bottom of your screen, with sero’s photo icon attached. you wait. and wait. and wait…
men. you roll your eyes and click on the call icon instead.
“you type like a grandpa,” you say immediately upon hearing him pick up. hanta laughs.
“you didn’t give me five seconds to respond!”
“at least you were gonna,” you huff, irritation evident in your voice. you lean back to lay down, the hardwood floor blissfully cool on your sweaty back. “i know we’ve only been out of school for a week, but damn.”
“bored as hell?”
“as hell!” you exclaim your agreement. you heave a sigh, eyes wandering to your window where the sun is shining brightly through. “i know we made a whole bunch of plans to do stuff as a group this summer, but the thing is…well kaminari got dragged into visiting his relatives and kirishima and bakugou are on a trip together and mina…well, mina got a girlfriend. ‘nuff said.”
“so the two of us…?”
“are assed out.”
“utterly assed out,” he agrees. “‘pa la verga. hasta el chingado, even.”
both of you are quiet for another moment, nothing but the hum of summer bugs and telephone pole static to keep you company until hanta speaks again.
“well, i guess the two of us are gonna have to find some trouble to get into.”
the mischief in his voice makes you smile.
“this is a bad idea.”
it’s not that steep, you try reassure yourself (in vain) as you stare down the hill. it really isn’t, but with you and hanta on his (already battered) skateboard?
“this is a really bad idea.”
he grins, carefree as ever. “nah, it’ll be fun!”
his arm is steady around your waist as you both sit on the skateboard, inching closer to the hill’s slope. you’re halfway through a string of protests when hanta kicks off with a victorious cry that is immediately drowned out by your screams.
you don’t make it five feet before the skateboard swerves and you both go flying off in opposite directions, shrieking bloody murder, and land in a heap at the bottom of the hill.
you wait until the sky stops spinning before you lift your head. hanta looks about as wrecked as you feel.
“i told you this was a bad idea,” you grumble, propping yourself up on scraped elbows and wincing.
sero grins back, seemingly unbothered by the scrapes covering his body. “and i told you it’d be fun.”
you kick at him with sore legs and he rolls sluggishly, laughing in a daze as he slowly gets up to help you to your feet.
“c’mon, you can piggyback home.”
“hanta.”
he’s giving you that look, that one that means trouble.
“this is a bad idea.”
that’s becoming your catchphrase of the summer.
he’s still grinning, gaze fixed on the lake you two had stumbled upon during your late afternoon walk.
“i could go for a swim,” he says, like it’s nothing.
you cross your arms and deadpan. “you don’t know what’s in there!” you reply indignantly, gesturing at the lake. “what if it’s radioactive?”
this is obviously an exaggeration (it doesn’t look dirty, per se) but it’s not exactly a luxury swimming pool.
hanta laughs. “it’s not radioactive!”
“well, i don’t have my swimsuit,” you maintain stubbornly, further irritated by the sweat dripping down your neck.
hanta raises his eyebrows and his grin turns a little menacing as he looks you up and down. “no issue.”
“hanta! what if someone sees?!”
he shrugs. “we live in a suburban community and it’s the middle of summer, no one’s around.”
“i’m not getting in that water with you naked.”
“come onnn, if someone comes i promise i’ll cover you!” he insists, tugging on your sweaty palm.
you want to flip him off and keep walking but the wicked combination of the sweat still dripping down your neck, the bee that buzzes past your ear, and the almost adorable whining lilt to hanta’s voice has you caving with a huff.
“okay fine. but you get in first and don’t look until i’m in the water.”
he laughs again but he agrees. you turn your back while he strips (although he insists he doesn’t care if you see him or not), whooping as he takes to the water. you ensure his back is turned while you undress and hurry in after him, surprised by the refreshing cool of the lake.
hanta smiles again when you swim up to him, cheeks puffed and brow pinched.
“you better not be looking,” you warn.
“i’m not.”
and it’s true. his eyes are glued to yours, brown so deep it’s almost black. and still smiling. and not looking.
your cheeks begin to heat up and you splash water in his face to break his gaze, sputtering as he laughs and splashes back.
you two float around for a little while longer and scamper out once the sun begins to go down, trodding home in a stewing, soaking mess and laughing the whole way.
you know you should be asleep. it’s nearly four in the morning, all your lights are off and you’re in bed, face illuminated by the light of your phone. it’s fine, you tell yourself, you’ll go to bed soon, if you could just beat this level—
incoming call from: seronator 🖤
“i’m going to kill you.”
sero snorts on the other line. “perfect! i’m already outside.”
you jump out of bed and go to the window to find that hanta is, in fact, right under your window.
“what the hell are you doing here?” you demand into the phone in a whisper-yell. “it’s almost four!”
“couldn’t sleep,” he replies. “you gonna open the window or what?”
you flop back onto your bed and groan. “i hope you fall out of it.”
“aw, you know you don’t mean that,” he teases, somewhat breathless from climbing up. his face pops up in your window and you flip him off.
“i had almost beat that level,” you complain to him as he clambers through.
hanta plucks the phone from your hand, studying it carefully before his face lights up.
“i can knock this out for you in five minutes, sweetheart.”
five minutes end up being another two hours of you and sero huddled on your bed, your cheek squished against his bicep and his lip between his teeth as you watch him try in vain to beat that level.
you both cry out victoriously when he finally does it, before slapping a hand over your mouths when you remember where you are and what time it is. you stifle laughter into each other’s hands, trying desperately to be silent and hoping the buzz of the ceiling fan will cover it.
you finally think it’s time for bed when you hear your parents get up for work, collapsing back on your bed. it’s so hot that you sleep on top of your blankets, sero sleeping beside you on the floor in only his underwear. the rising sun peeks through your blinds to a chorus of your snores as the birds start to chirp their morning songs.
you poke at the foggy glass on the window and huff, pouting like a child whose recess has been cancelled.
“this blows.”
sero seems amused by your despondency, leaning in the open doorway and watching the august rain fall. “it’s not that bad.”
you stretch out on his couch, groaning loudly. “close the doooor, you’re letting all the humidity in.”
“no manches, it’s gonna be hot no matter what,” hanta replies, walking over and dragging you from the couch as you screech protest. “c’mon, we can play a board game or something.”
some movie plays idly in the background while you sit across from him, huffing as you land yourself in monopoly jail for the third time in forty minutes.
“hanta, this is what people do in an old home,” you complain, leaning back on your hands as you survey the board.
he laughs at your laments. “well, i guess this is just practice then,” he teases back.
“not for me. i’m planning on dying a majestic and heroic death on the battlefield,” you declare nobly. “and if not, then i’m goin’ off a bridge at sixty.”
“fine,” hanta snorts, “but only if i can come with. no way are you leaving me alone with bakugou until i die.”
“duh,” you laugh, leaning over to knock his shoulder gently. “that’s obviously the plan.”
if you had let yourself believe it, you’d see the lovesick smile on hanta’s face. instead, you duck your head and pick up the dice, grinning evilly as you shake them in your palm. “but not before i kick your ass at monopoly.”
the august heat is beginning to relent, the evening breeze cooling your skin as you sit with hanta on the front steps of his house.
today was a good day. you’d spent most of the day at the pool, swimming and lounging in the sun, then come back to the sero house for dinner because his mom was making enchiladas. it’s late in the day now, and you’re content to soak up the last of the evening sun on the porch with hanta.
your mind begins to wander, safe in the comforting quiet.
even though every day has felt as slow and dazed as honey dripping off the edge of toasted bread, your summer is fast coming up on its end.
you look over at hanta, at the orange sun setting behind him and the trees spotting the remaining sunlight across the ground, and the chalk drawings his siblings had left on the sidewalk and the initials you two had put beside them — it’s all so perfect.
and you…don’t want it to end.
you know nothing will change once you’re back in classes. you’re excited to meet back up with your other friends, to get back to business as usual, but…there’s a part of you that always wishes it could be summer forever. that it could be this summer forever, just you and hanta running wild all day and night.
it’s like he’s read your mind when he finally speaks, something quieter, softer than normal.
“hey.”
you look up. “yeah?”
“i don’t want this to sound fucked up, but…” he looks at you, almost shy in way you’ve never really seen (or at least never noticed), but still earnest and sincere and warm and caring and so very hanta. “i’m…glad everyone else had so much shit going on this summer, ‘least if it meant i got to hang out with you.”
his shoulder is warm when it bumps against yours. you relish the touch, the feel of him beside you, and smile down at your lap.
“yeah…”
it’s now or never, you think. do or die.
“hey.”
hanta looks up. “ah?”
“can i say something that i also don’t want to sound fucked up?”
“‘course.”
“i think that this summer i’ve fallen in love with you.”
you try to say it like it’s a fact, setting your shoulders as you lean back in your hands.
hanta stares at you a moment, like he’s still processing, before he bursts out in peals of beautiful laughter.
you could be angry with him for laughing at what could be a vulnerable confession, but this laughter is so infectious that you’re stifling giggles of your own. besides, this is hanta. there’s not an ounce of malice or ill will behind his laugh, or behind the brush of his knuckles against yours as you both fall back on the wooden planks in your laughing fit.
“why would that be fucked up?” he asks through a grin, once you’ve finally settled. you’re laying side-by-side, hands barely touching, shoulder blades pressed to the sun-warmed wood beneath. only your heads are turned to look at each other, and his dark hair falls into his obsidian eyes that spark when he looks at you (the same way he had been all summer).
“i don’t know,” you murmur, smile tugging at your lips. you muster up your courage and take his hand, giddy when he lets you. “what if it changes things?”
his fingers squeeze a little around yours. “it won’t.”
you exhale a little chuckle. “how do you know?”
“‘cause i’m in love with you. and nothing could change that.”
you turn so that you’re laying on your side, facing him completely. you hold his gaze steady, something like giddiness rising in your chest.
“promise?”
sero turns the same, leaning in close. his hands brush up your arms, toying with the strap of your tank top. “yeah, promise. we could just kiss sometimes and call it even.”
you grin, laugh bubbling up before you can help it. hanta smiles when you do, eyes crinkling in the corners as he watches you. he pushes the hair back from your face as you wind your arms around his neck, beaming.
“oh, is that all?”
he shrugs, smile matching yours. “yeah, sure. we’ll kiss, go on a few dates, bring denki along every now and again ‘cause he’ll be bored if we don’t—” you laugh at that. “—and, y’know…live happily ever after.”
“just like that?” you snort.
hanta beams. “just like that.”
you don’t care that the wooden floorboards are rigid against your hips, or that you shoulder just popped from laying on it. when you lean in to kiss him, it’s like nothing else matters.
you don’t even know how long you both lay there, twisted awkwardly as you kiss, blissfully unaware of hanta’s mom pulling his giggling siblings away from the window inside. and when you finally sit back up, there are marks and indents on your elbows and thighs from the wooden porch, but you pay them no mind, content to lean against hanta and watch the sun finally disappear from the sky.
the night air has a little chill to it, but you’re warm with hanta’s arms around you. “i don’t ever want this summer to end.”
“eh, i don’t know about the summer, but i’m sure as hell not goin’ anywhere,” he replies, flashing a grin.
your phones lie forgotten on the ground a few feet away, absolutely blowing up with messages from your friends about kirishima and bakugou’s return tomorrow, denki complaining that he’s stuck with his mean cousins another week longer, and mina spamming pictures of her and her girlfriend. neither of you are any the wiser, and you stay that way until there are more stars in the sky than you can count.
dividers by anitalenia and saradika-graphics — for my babies @bloomness and @elssero <33 biggest hanta girlies i know
“I keep thinking about how you sound,” Hanta murmured. “When I have you under me. The little whimpers. That breathy thing you do when I hit your sweet spot.”
Your thighs squeezed together involuntarily, heat blooming across your skin. “Hanta, you’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to,” he admitted with a soft, needy laugh. “I need to hear you, just for a little. Let me have you like this.” There was a pause. Just a heartbeat. And then you answered, “Okay.”
That was all it took.
With your phone on speaker, you were panting now, one hand toying with your sensitive nipples while the other had two fingers plunged into your wet pussy. You could hear Hanta on the other end just as overcome, his voice ragged as he groaned, “that’s it baby, let me hear how much you miss me, how much you need me to take care of that needy little pussy,”
You let out a whine, punching one of your nipples as you bucked your hips, your room filled with the lewd sounds of your moans and your dripping core. “Fuck it makes me so hard hearing you like this. Just imagining how you’d be clenching around me right now while I fuck my fist,” he groaned into the phone.
You whimpered as you imagined your boyfriend, thick cock in hand as he pumped it to the thought of you. It took everything in you not to come just from the thought. “Need it, Hanta… need you,” you moaned. “Yeah baby? Tell me where you need it,” his breath growing more ragged as he spoke.
“Everywhere,” your voice was breathy as you rocked your hips and pumped your fingers through your wet slit, “want to feel you, want to taste you.” A loud groan cut through the phone as you could hear his movements getting more rapid, “fuck baby, if you keep speaking to me like that I won’t last long. God just the thought of fucking that pretty little mouth of yours has me throbbing,” you knew him enough to know he was getting close, and when he did it was filled with promises of exactly what he was going to do to you when he got home.
not quite a dry texter (with you, anyway) but he is very close to being one. it’s only his occasional (unintentionally) emo or gothic comments and his almost old fashioned way of speaking that keeps him just emotive enough to not quite fall into that category
very formal texter: proper grammar, punctuation, formal sentence structure, minimal to no slang — honestly sometimes getting a text from him feels like reading an essay, but the brief declarations of love he tags onto the end of every message more than makes up for that
prefers to call over texting, and when he does text it’s always just one single paragraph — unless he’s, say, forgotten to add something, but that’s more of an exception than a rule
always tells you how long his patrols and missions are set to last so you know when to expect him home, or if you should bother waiting up for him, and if anything changes he’s always quick to let you know
if you’re the type to spam text him he’ll go through and respond to every text individually — and don’t feel bad about it either, he likes being able to settle down after a patrol and read what you’ve been up to in his absence. it’s a nice reprieve, honestly
his contact name for you is just your first name with a black heart added onto the end, and you’re the only contact he has that’s able to fully get through his ‘do not disturb’ if you so choose
hanta sero
another one who can’t just send you a single text, and it gets even worse when he’s drunk or high or excited because he will sometimes get to the point of sending you a single word per message — which is either amusing or annoying depending on the type of person you are
if he’s having a slow day at work or he’s stuck at home while you’re out and about he’ll send you random pick up lines and jokes he finds online — only the best or most stupid of the lot though, because you only deserve the best to flatter or amuse you
doesn’t use as much slang and shorthand as some of his close friends might, but he’s also not the most formal texter around and isn’t overly particular about the syntax or spelling of the messages he sends to you — as long as they make sense that’s all that matters to him
sends you voice notes when he’s away on missions or when his patrol is running late and he knows he won’t be home at a sensible hour and he wants you to go to bed instead of waiting up for him — they’re always short and sweet, maybe a bit teasing because that’s just who he is, but always exactly what you need to know your hero will be home the second he can and all you need to do is go to sleep and get some rest
your contact name on his phone is just ‘baby’ and he assigned your contact the loudest possible notification sound so he never misses a message even when he’s sleeping — only ever putting it on silent when he’s working because he doesn’t actually want his colleagues to hate him
prefers to use emoticons instead of emojis, but he’ll swap between them depending on his mood, practicality, and whether or not he’s able to catch his emoticons being autocorrected before he presses send
hitoshi shinso
much like his former teacher and current mentor, shinso is a very dry texter and puts the ‘react to message’ function to good use when talking to people — less so with you as he actually enjoys talking to you (and doesn’t want to be lectured, yet again, for just blankly thumbs up-ping a message you sent) but rest assured whenever he’s on patrol all texts short of an ‘sos’ will be met with a blank react, a single emoji message, or a very very brief text to let you know he’s seen it
not much of a multi-texter these days, but back when he was younger and was either bored or just wanted your attention he had no problem spamming your messages (or, well, spamming for his standards which meant maybe four or five short annoyed-sounding texts sent within a few minutes of each other). after graduating he only ever multitexts if you started the conversation and stopped answering him randomly midway through
his most used emoji is probably just the thumbs up — and the blank stare and purple heart are likely tied for second. you’re the only one he actually uses emojis with, everyone else gets an even drier version of himself, so delight in that knowledge
when he’s out on late patrols you will receive random messages here and there — usually a cat photo, a forwarded message from one of your mutual friends, a heads up about how long his shift is looking to be, or maybe a suggestion for what to have for dinner or an offer for him to pick something up on the way home
his phone is eternally on silent and all of his contacts are on ‘do not disturb’ aside from, like, whoever he’s working with that day… and even then they get put right back on silent the second their shared work is over. this means he sometimes gets back to your messages pretty late, but if you’ve been together for a while you’re definitely used to this kind of thing from hitoshi so it’s whatever
doesn’t shorten his words or anything like that (e.g. ‘see’ to ‘c’ or ‘to’ to ‘2’) but he’s not particularly fussed about following grammar and syntax rules when talking to you. the most you’ll get out of him is a full stop when he’s annoyed but otherwise it’s just a few words, all lowercase unless someone turns his autocapitalisation back on, and maybe an emoji
Now playing: Lovesong ~ The Cure
Contents: In an attempt to get back in Hanta's goodbooks, you resorted to a good old (not) booty call. He came of course, leading the two of you to enjoy a day playing house. {No content warnings detected} {WC 2.5k}
Diary entry: Hi @kamislop and I actually wrote this one with our ubercool new method and we actually got it done in like less than a day probably like 4 hours. anyway enjoy i think we're cool asf (smirk)
!! TRUE LOVE masterlist ☆ character preview (Sero) ☆ episodes
{Y/n}
“Hey handsome,” you purred over the speaker, lazily throwing your legs over the backrest of the brown leather couch. You knocked down a pair of pants while doing so. “Mom and Oboro left for the airport, I think they mentioned something about London…can’t remember. I’m soooooooo bored.” You pouted, even though he couldn’t see it, but you were sure Hanta could feel it.
Hanta sighed through the line, pressing his shoulder up to his ear — the phone sandwiched between them. He sat up a little straighter on the kitchen chair, finishing shoving the last of his fried egg in his mouth. “Mmm, hi gorgeous. What, you think I’m just going to come over at your every beck and call… especially after that bullshit you pulled the other day, don’t think I’ve forgotten about that.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, venom sizzling at the back of your throat, but you pushed it down successfully. “Well, I ought to make up for it somehow, don’t I? It’ll be just us, no bullshit. Don’t you miss me, Hanta?” Excessive amounts of sugars coated your every word, but you knew this was exactly how he liked it. And even if you didn’t want to admit it, the thought of him shutting you down made you impatiently chew on your bottom lip, waiting for his answer.
Hanta swallowed heavily, letting out a harsh exhale of air. “First of all, drop the attitude, little lady, I’m not in the mood for your bullshit.” Hanta stood from his chair, carrying his plate over the sink and lazily dropping it in. “Second of all, what if I have work, then what? Or what if I just don’t want to see you?”
“You don’t want to see me?” You replied, sounding a little more butt-hurt than intended. “I mean, whatever. If you don’t want to see me that’s fine, I didn’t want to see you anyway.”
Hanta scoffed, snorting loudly as he moved around the apartment to go and grab a clean t-shirt. “I never said that, did I? I said, "What if?”” he pulled his phone from between his left shoulder, instead holding it up to his right ear with the same hand.
A grin found its way onto your face, and you started to fidget with your fingers over your phone, now laying on speaker over your stomach. The need for reassurance was strong, but it’s not like you were going to give him the satisfaction. “Of course you wanna see me, you can’t resist me,” you countered slyly. A glance to the side reminded you of the state the apartment was in, and that you eventually would’ve had to get to cleaning all that mess if Hanta was coming over.
“Boosting your ego, much?” Hanta shook his head for no one to see, giving a quick sniff to a pair of dark jeans to make sure they didn’t reek. “Your fault, really,” you volleyed right back at him, and he couldn’t help but smile and the sound of your soft, crackly laugh coming from the other end.
“Yeah yeah, whatever.” He chuckled, dropping his phone down on the bed after putting it on speaker. He pulled his jeans on, buttoning them and letting them drop down his waist. “So,” Hanta groaned, crouching to pick his belt off the floor, standing and lacing it through the holes. “What time do you want me there?”
You hummed, twirling a loose strand of your hair like a high-school-girl in some shitty rom-com. “Hmmm, maybe like… thirty minutes? Does that work for you, handsome?” You asked coyly, knowing for sure that even if it didn’t work for him, he’d make it work.
“Thirty minutes?” He echoed, looking around the room to remember where the fuck he’d left his car keys. “What, you gotta finish gettin’ all dolled up for me?”
Gods, you could picture the shit-eating grin he was sporting so perfectly, the lazy curl of his lips that made you debate whether you wanted to slap him or kiss him. Maybe both, the bastard was into that shit, anyway. “Does throwing dirty socks in the hamper count?” You asked, leather whining as you pushed yourself off the couch.
“Depends, are they your mom’s?”
“Hanta, ew! You’re so fucking gross,” you groaned loudly, making a face at the screen of your phone.
Hanta snorted, moving into the lounge again to go and grab his keys. They jingled as he picked them off the small table by the door. He shoved them into his pocket, pushing his shoes into his feet and using his spare hand to pull the backs up. “Mmm, okay then. I’ll be… twenty minutes, give or take, so you have time to pick up socks and then look all pretty. M’kay?”
“M’kay.” You parroted, dragging out the letters in a small groan. You pouted, thinking of how to end the call. “I’ll see you, then?”
“Yes you will, baby, I’ll see you soon.”
⊱🜲⊰
You swear Sero Hanta had never been this punctual in his life. Yet there he was twenty minutes later, ringing the doorbell even if he could’ve easily let himself in with the spare key. You were in the middle of choosing a top to throw on, but figured that he really wouldn’t have minded if you were to be around him in a tank top and short shorts. Would’ve made him forgive you a lot more easily, too.
“Hey, handsome,” you grinned up at him after opening the door, holding the frame with your hand. He looked unfairly good, tousled black hair falling over hooded eyes, glancing down at you like that. You were already getting half a mind to kick him out before he even stepped in.
“Hey baby,” he dragged, stepping an inch closer to you. His hand moved to your waist, sliding against the skin that was just between the waistband of your shorts and the hem of your vest. “Your hair looks nice.” He complimented, dipping his head and shuffling the two of you further into the apartment once you let the door close.
“Thank you.” You replied almost breathlessly as his lips coasted your own, smirking cockily before kissing you softly. He pulled away and you gave him a once over, touching the waistband of his jeans. “I like these jeans, are they new?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, the sound raspy. “Got them with Denks last week, he needed a shirt for a date.” Hanta’s eyes flicked between your own before dropping to where your fingers were grazing the denim. He gulped.
“Cute,” was all you said before turning your back to him, walking towards the kitchen. You were already trying to kill him, and it was working. “You got a shift today, or are you staying over?” You asked, grabbing a can of Diet Coke for yourself and one of Mt. Dew for him, cold condensation coating the pads of your fingers.
Hanta stood dumbly in the doorway for a moment before pushing his shoes off. He moved around the kitchen island taking both cans from you and popping them open. Handing the Coke back to you he shook his head. “Nah, I’m staying. I’ll have to leave midday tomorrow, though, I’ve got a shift at one.”
You nodded, lifting the drink to your lips and taking a sip. Hanta threw his keys and his phone down on the counter, taking a sip of his own drink and placing it down too. “Why? Did you have something in particular you wanted to do?” he questioned, tilting his head sideways, raven locks shifted with the movement.
“Just wanted to know how many hours I’ll have to put up with you for,” you quipped, holding your chin high as you gave him a sidelong glance. Hanta cocked up an unfazed brow.
“Right,” he hummed. “Because you weren’t the one who invited me over.”
“Tomato, tomato,” you rolled your eyes. “God, you’re so annoying. And I’m hungry.”
“Ah, that’s why you’re cranky,” Hanta snorted. “You can sit down while I make you something? I had a fried egg at home, I still have space for something else. When do you reckon the last time Shirakumo went to the store was?” He asked, already expecting to find a lonely bottle of vodka and some cheese in your fridge.
“He went earlier this week, Mom made him go because she was sick of smelling noodles — and Tomura was coming around so she wanted to make something actually stomachable.” You replied, sitting up on the kitchen counter, watching as Hanta opened the fridge. “I think we have salmon — there's still some leftover seaweed. We could make sushi.”
“Yeah.” He pulled out a pack, placing it down on the counter. “Yeah, that could work. You wanna help?” He asked, turning to look at you.
You shook your head, lifting your Coke can to your mouth again. “No, not really.” You said between sips.
“Oh.” Hanta stared at you emotionlessly, you smiled, teeth showing in pure happiness. “Okay then.”
“You know where everything is,” you hopped off the counter, waving your hand dismissively. “I’ll go grab my phone and put on some music, ‘kay?”
For the next forty minutes, you watched Hanta make you lunch. Sometimes he would pause in the middle of slicing salmon to give you a quick peck on the lips, or would spin you in his arms during a song you both liked, or you would just talk, conversation flowing as naturally as breathing air.
You would watch him, tongue sticking out in concentration as he laid warm rice over the nori sheet, and thought about how domestic and intimate it all felt— and it felt good. It was terrifying, how seamlessly he fit in your world, how this could become your everyday life. The possibility made you nauseous, yet wasn’t this what normal people were expected to want?
“Done,” Hanta sniffled, plating up the last of the sushi. He watched tentatively as you picked up a small piece with your chopsticks, “You like?” He asked as you chewed, nodding. You picked up a piece for him, hovering it in front of his mouth.
Hanta took the bite, chewing and nodding. “See, it’s not bad.” You grinned, placing the chopsticks down. Hanta gave you a mock offended look.
“Not bad?” He echoed, standing between your legs, reaching out to grab your hips and pull you closer to him. “Not bad! I think my cooking is excellent, cheeky.” He smirked, fingers tickling at your sides. You squealed, swatting his hands away until they rested back at your hips. Your arms connected behind his neck.
“Okay, okay. It’s good, I like it. You did well, Mr Chef.” You replied, smiling cheekily.
“I would so be out of here if you didn’t like the food I poured my soul into making,” Hanta tried his best to talk sternly, but it was really hard when you were all over him like this. One of his hands left your hip, only to twirl a strand of hair around his finger.
“You wouldn’t,” you nudged your nose against his teasingly. Your voice dropped to something softer, more affectionate, and you fought the urge to melt into his touch.
“You’re right, I wouldn’t,” Hanta agreed, lips skimming against yours only for a moment. “Because I would just eat all of the sushi I’ve made and leave you to starve in your own home.” With that, he pulled back, only to grab the chopsticks off the counter and unceremoniously stuff his mouth with a piece.
“You’re so cruel. You’d leave little old me to starve? In my own home? Wow, imagine what the press would say.” You pouted, throwing a hand up to serve as a fake headliner. “Famous model Y/n Kayama starved by up and coming pro-hero Cellophane, also known as Hanta Sero.” Hanta spun around, watching your arm as it waved in front of the two of you.
“Wow, would you leave a note before you die? Framing me of more evilness that I, Hanta Sero, would never do?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder to lock eyes with you. You shrugged as he turned back to face you head on again.
“Eh, maybe.” You lifted your left shoulder nonchalantly as Hanta picked up another piece of sushi, offering it out to you between the wooden chopsticks.
“Can I at least choose the picture for the article page? I know you want to be remembered looking extra hot,” he teased as you chewed. You rolled your eyes, but before you could come up with a smart remark, his thumb wiped at a grain of rice stuck to the corner of your mouth, before he licked it off the pad of his finger.
Fuck him for looking so hot.
“I don’t know if they’ll let you choose from jail,” you retorted after you swallowed, clearing your throat a bit to pretend that didn’t rile you up. “But it would be on sight with the other inmates, I’m sure I’ve gathered a fanbase there too.”
“Right,” Hanta hummed through a mouthful. “I guess I can keep feeding you, then. Need to keep a clean slate if I want to start my agency.”
⊱🜲⊰
After eating and messing about the apartment for a while the two of you crashed on the couch. Dark, wooden-paneled walls were warmly illuminated by a dim lamp sat on one of the side tables. You shifted to sit more comfortably, sneaking under Hanta’s arm — careful to mind his elbow.
“Mmm, you comfy there?” He droned huskily, looking down at you. You nodded, exhaling softly as you stared at the blank screen in front of you. “Did Shirakumo fix the TV?”
You looked up at him, giving him a look that screamed Are you serious? “Of course not, Hanta, that man can’t work electronics for shit. He hardly knows how to use his phone” You snorted softly to punctuate. “He said he’d call someone to come do it but never did. He’s been doing a lot of work up at the HPSC and UA lately, so he’s been too busy. I dunno, probably left a number for Mom to call but she likely trashed it without realizing.”
“Probably, yeah,” he nodded absentmindedly. “I’d say I could try to fix it but I’m pretty comfortable right now, and so are you, so I don’t really plan to move an inch for the foreseeable future.”
“Yeah, I am comfortable,” you mumbled, eyes already starting to feel heavy. “You know, you could start asking people to pay you to use you as a pillow.”
“Are you suggesting I start selling my body?” Hanta snorted. “I don’t have massive tits like Kirishima, I bet he could do that.” Without giving it much thought, his fingers ghosted the hem of your top before slipping under the fabric and settling over your bare waist. His hand just stayed there, not with the intention of initiating something, but rather a chaste touch. If you weren’t so drowsy, you would’ve tried to fight with your head about how natural it felt, about how easily you melted into him.
“Mina’s a lucky woman, what can I say? You still have nice titties though, don’t worry.” You replied softly, barely a whisper. “Are we gonna smoke later?” You asked.
Hanta let out a deep chuckle, chest vibrating with the sound as his thumb ran against your skin. “If you can stay awake, yes. Or if you fall asleep we can when you wake up. Why? Are you already thinking about your next hit when I’m right here?” he joked. “Model life has changed you, sweetheart.”
“Fuck off,” you elbowed his thigh, biting back a smile. “I want to smoke later, then we can order some takeout for dinner.”
“Yes ma’am,” he half-groaned, stretching his stupidly long legs to put his feet up on the coffee table. If he said something after that, you didn’t know, drifting off into a quiet sleep lulled by his rhythmic breathing.
Sero Hanta x fem!reader - bit angst, mostly fluff and yearning Sero
Summary: your best friend is deeply in love with you, and you have no idea...
Warnings: mention of nightmare, reader having at least shoulder lenght hair, crying, yearning, a bit of kissing idk what more
[Idk what's with me and best friends to lovers but yeah...]
Not proofread
You had a nightmare. You woke up crying, and sweaty, soft sobs leaving your lips as you tugged the covers off of your body. The horrors of the lingering dream still in front of your eyes, as you touched out your phone on the bedside table, turning on the flashlight, pointing it around the room to make sure nothing is remained from your dream. Your dorm room was empty of bad things.
Getting up, you wish for a glass of water, slipping into your slippers, opening your room, taking your way down to the dorm kitchen. You reach for a glass of water, some tears still sliding down your cheeks. With the glass filled, you sip from it, then hearing some soft pats against the floor, turning around, your heart beats faster for a second, still careful and shook from your nightmare.
Out of the darkness of the dorm living room, steps out your best friend, Sero, scratching the back of his head, yawning softly. His shirt lifted slightly, clothes crumpled from the bed, his hair messy, and the sight of him so soft makes you feel a bit comforted.
"What happened, pretty girl?" He asked softly, trying to gulp down another yawn half successfully. He steps closer, looking at you softly, his eyes sinking into yours deeply. "Pretty girl" he called you this ever since you knew him. First it was a joke, then one night he told you he means it.
You and Sero lay next to each other on his family's couch, just full with the dinner his mom made, and some TV show fills the silence, as he tries to stop a burp.
"You're literally so disgusting" you laughed, hitting his arm, but both of you knew it was only a joke. You both laughed hard, but his laughs soon lowered, yours still drifting in the air like soft bells, and he was looking at you, his pupils dilated and his breath slow, eyes roaming your face.
"Pretty girl" he said, his voice deep and drifting, and you hum, your laughing stops, but you still wear a smile. You wear it so well, Sero thinks. You thought he just wanted your attention, when he literally let his thoughts dress up as words and slip from his lips so carelessly. Sero's lips part in surprise for a second that he really let that slip, but then they close and curl into a smile.
"C'mon you know you're pretty. Don't fish for more compliments" he gently pushed you with his elbow, knowing this is not the case, but he tried to play it down by joking. He was lucky his messy hair hid his red ears. You turned your attention to the TV, but his gaze drifted along your face. You were pretty, just like a dream. A dream he wanted to forget himself in, a dream he wanted to forever live in. Pretty inside and out, how you were always there for him, how your laughs healed him.
You blink back into the present, looking at him, remembering he asked something. You shake your head, reaching to wipe your tears, but he's faster.
"Nightmare" you explained, and he sighed softly, wiping away your tears with warm hands.
"It's okay now, pretty girl" he said, pushing your hair back behind your ears with his thumb, tilting your chin up. "Just tell me, I will kick their asses. All of them. Their nonexistent asses" he said, tilting down his chin, his gaze intertwining with yours deeply, looking at you from under, and you let out a huff of a laughter, seeing the mischief dancing in his eyes. His thumbs rubbed your cheeks again, and you felt warmth fill your whole stomach and chest, his hands gentle and warm when it came to you. He could never be cold, so foreign.
"Don't be sad and scared, I will always keep you safe, pretty girl" he said, half joking as he flexed his bicep and put your hand on the muscle, and half serious as his eyes told you he will always be there for you to hide behind. You let out another laugh, and his heart melted, tugging you closer to hug you. "It was just a silly dream, my pretty girl."
You trusted him. You found warmth and a safe place in him. You let him lead you down the corridor, gently pushing you into your room, throwing himself on the bed and opening his arms for you. He literally didn't care that he didn't feel his arm anymore when you slept so sweetly against him, using his bicep as a pillow. Sero let his eyes rest on your face, tucking your hair behind your ear. He didn’t even dare to breathe too loud, or let hid chest move too much.
"I love you, pretty girl" the words slipped from his lips again. Somehow his lips and his thoughts didn't know how to keep to themselves, his tongue always running, always late to wait for his brain to allow the compliment to leave. He bites his lower lip, a shaky breath leaving him, half disappointed that you didn't hear his words, and half relieved that he could get this off his chest.
Your scent, your warmth, your body against his soothed him and made him sleepy. Dreams swarmed him away in seconds, only awake longer enough to tug you closer.
If there's a god above, listen to his prayer, looking at you instead of copying off of the board at the front of the classroom, still hoping to not fail mid terms. But he literally doesn't care because you usually tutor him anyways. So it's a win-win anyways. Sero laid his chin on his palm, looking at you softly, planning how to keep you to himself for the rest of the afternoon, looking at your face, your finger twirling your hair. God, you're so gorgeous. He'd fall to his knees and beg just to see you for another second if he's on the verge of death.
He is torn from his imaginary begging when your eyes drift to his, and you give him a smile and a small wave, and he is so grateful his ears are hidden under his ear because they are red again. He gives you a grin, and waves back, the curve of his lips and the look in his eyes making you feel warm and fluttery, almost giddy with happiness. He's so cute. You wish he was all yours. But he's not.
He desperately needed some kind of reason to have you to himself the afternoon, so as you walked back towards the dorm building with Mina, Denki, Bakugo and Kirishima, him walking beside you, he threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer.
"Pretty girl please tutor me, because I'm afraid I will fail on the hero laws test next Tuesday" he said with a fake pout.
"Maybe you should listen to the teacher during class and not being a lovesick puppy" Denki said with a smirk, elbowing Sero, who just made a fake slap towards the blond guy. Denki jumped aside with a weird ass laugh, pointing at Sero.
"I didn't" Sero said, shaking his head, then looking back at you. "Then?" He waited for your answer with puppy eyes.
"Sure. I need to read it again for studying anyways" you said, and he grinned happily.
He didn’t even go to his own room, he followed you to yours, throwing his backpack onto your bed, loosening his tie and laying it onto your chair. He lazily stretched across your bed as you just put down your bag.
"C'mon lazy ass get up, you came to study not to nap" you said gently hitting his stomach, and he let out a whine, sitting up.
"Fine" he grumbled, making you chuckle as he sat down next to you on the floor, tugging out his book and notebook.
He didn’t even listen to what you were saying or pointing out, he just watched your lips move, your eyes follow the texts, your hands pushing back your hair that always fell back forward. He listened to your voice, so smooth and gentle, it caressed and hugged his heart. He felt that warm feeling all over him, the need to be yours. To own the knowledge that you belonged to him. This need clawed at his insides, tearing him up desperate for a morsel of love. A morsel of a confession. He bit his lip, as your eyes found his, and caught him not even listening.
"Are you... you're not even listening to me" you huffed waving your hands in front of his face, and he snapped out, his brain sending one, one single signal to his mouth, and again, before he could review and allow the comment, it slipped.
"Please date me" he said, his words leaving like a breath, and both of you just looked at each other, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and he flinched back, his brain switching into panic mode. He messed up. He messed up badly. He didn’t want you to leave him over it. To break your friendship, to lose you. Anyone but you. But you. You. He needed you.
When he wanted to grab his books, and leave, to hide under his bed or in his cabinet, and never ever come out, never ever get in front of your eyes. Your eyes. Your eyes were soft. Your hand found his, stopping him. His heart stopped too.
"I... I want to" you said, and his brain couldn't even put it together for a second. Then the switch just flipped in him, he gently leaned forward, not caring that his notebook slipped from his lap, he reached towards you, didn't know how to hold you, how to grab you, just tugging you into a hug, but not for long, as he pulled back, cupped your cheeks, and pressed his lips to yours. Desperate and full of love, need to show you how much you mean, how much he is starved for you. You felt the butterflies flap around in your stomach, your eyelashes fluttering closed. Oh lord, his body is so warm, hands and lips so gentle.
He left you space to leave if you wanted to, even if he wished you didn't. But you didn't. Your lips softly melted against his, your fingers finding his shoulders as his fingers pushed your hair back gently. You felt that familiar warmth fill up your chest, close to tearing from all the happiness inside. He didn’t even move his lips, or tried to make it a tongue kiss, he just wanted you close. His hands gently palmed your hips, wanting to ask you to come closer as he pulled away for a second, his nose bumping you before kissing you again, a soft laugh leaving your lips against his.
"Come closer" Sero whispered, his voice breathless and a bit broken. "Please" and you couldn't not comply as you slid closer, and he stole one last peck, then a bright grin found its way onto his face, hugging you close happily. You returned the hug, the butterflies in your stomach satisfied for a bit.
He didn’t let you go for the rest of the day. And for the rest of his life.
Can y'all feel my desperation to be loved? Yes me too •_•
› i feel like sero is definitely the type of person to want to take you on a first date that is super interactive. movies are a little awkward because the two of you aren’t talking that much for a solid two hours, and a dinner date would be way too much talking.
› at the arcade it’s a mix of the both, and at least if the two of you are awkward at starting up conversation — you can chat about the games you two are playing.
› nobody can convince me that this man isn’t a tryhard when it comes to the basketball court. like you guys would be there for at least twenty minutes minimum and he’s just trying to show off and impress you a little bit — and also to get a lot of tickets so he could win you a teddy bear because he’s such cutie patootie.
› before you guys leave the arcade, I feel like he would definitely be the person to ask if the two do you could take some pictures in a photo booth. 2 of the pictures would be the two of you being super goofy and silly, 1 of them would be of the two of you actually locking in and look really cute, and the last one would be of him gently grabbing you face and planting a kiss on your cheek
› sero absolutely loves so loudly, nobody can convince me otherwise. and he absolutely would keep that little photo strip in his wallet until you guys take another picture to replace it. when the old one comes out, I feel like he would definitely hang it up on the wall at home, or definitely somewhere at his desk in UA
› i also feel like he’s such a big foodie. like if you think your back is big, times that by 10 and it’s sero [with love and compassion xoxo].
› he would literally know every single underground place and the food is always bomb, and so yummy. like there has yet to be a place where he has gone and can genuinely have a negative critique of it.
› he’s also the type of person to walk you all the way to the door, and linger for a little bit. like fingers brushing against one another, yearning and lingering looks; and maybe even the first kiss if he’s lucky enough. he did get his kiss
› overall, the two of you would have an amazing date with little to no hiccups xoxo
