‎○˳ ‎ ‎ P L A I N L I N E D I V I D E R S﹒﹒꒱

꩜ — strictly business, perhaps.

pairings : boss!tenya iida x secretary!reader

warnings : 4.3k words damn (UNRESOLVED TENSIONNN)

➤ masterlist!

Papers rustle by the glass top of the table, along with the sound of typing on the keyboard. Tenya sighed, clattering his glasses onto the table top, he pinched the bridge of his nose. The documents didn’t seem to end, his stomach was rumbling, churning, and his head was spinning. 

“Goodness..” He complained silently, propping his head upon his hand as his hand ran through his hair. 

The silence of the small office was broken briefly by the glass door opening, then closing again. Your form stood there in a bit of awkwardness, sensing the boss’s not-so-pleasant mood. Clutching the clipboard, you cleared your throat softly. 

“Mister Iida, I-It is lunch time already, would you… like for me to order your lunch from the restaurant on the ground floor?” You carefully asked, keeping your tone hushed.

He sighed, nodding before he stood up while straightening his clothes and his tie. “Please do, y/n. Thank you very much.” He replied, his voice husky and hoarse, while his hand perched his glasses back on to his nose. Tenya cleared his throat once more, and he stayed like that for a moment, while you nodded, turning your back to him as you reached for the door once more. 

But then you turned back around again, “Oh!” Your index finger plucking up to the air. “And, would you like your usual orange juice to go with it as well, mister Iida?” 

And finally, his stiffened cheeks frozen from the day’s work twitched up to a smile, a huff escaping his breath. “Yes please, y/n. Thank you very much.”

˚୨୧⋆.˚

The scent of broth and the steam of rice greeted Tenya’s lungs, warmth replacing the dull cold air from the air conditioner. He smiled faintly, tilting his body to the side from his computer, meeting your form teetering on your feet while you carefully ushered the tray in your hands to his table.

“Thank you so much, y/n. Right on time.” He sighed, clearing the space on his table for the tray to be placed down to. 

You smiled softly to him, chuckling softly as you carefully placed down his lunch in front of him. “Perhaps I know my boss too well.” 

That earned a small laugh from him as he picked up the spoon and fork from the side of the tray, the utensils clinking to each other as he unwrapped the napkin wrapping them. The faint smoke danced around the air, before slowly seeping into his nostrils again, and he could only sigh with a smile.

“Perhaps you do.” He replied, smiling warmly at you from above his glasses, which you only replied with a soft chuckle and a sway of your body.

You cleared your throat, pulling yourself back to the ground. “Is there anything I can help more, sir?” 

He shook his head, already dipping his spoon into the clear broth of the soup. “No, no,”

Then he paused. 

“How about you, y/n? Have you eaten?” His head looked up from his lunch, a finger adjusting his glasses again to see you clearly, his brows furrowed a bit in concern. Which you responded with a nod, “Mhm, already have, sir.” 

He nods, “Good, good.” 

“I’ll excuse myself then, sir?” You reassured again, bowing slightly to him.

Tenya grinned, nodding as his hand gestured for you to exit the room. “Yes, thank you again, y/n.”

˚୨୧⋆.˚

For goodness’ sake, can this project finish itself? Were the man’s thoughts as he typed furiously on the keyboard. It seemed like the proposals needed for the project seemed to be endless, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask any help from you. Though that was what his fingers are twitching to do right now. His thumb hovered over the phone button on your contact as he debated his choices.

On one hand, it’s already almost midnight, and you had gone home way long ago. He needs some help, and Tenya swears if he were to type another letter for another corporation to ask them to sponsor this massive charity project, he’s going to blow his office into shreds. On the other hand, it’s Friday. Which means you’re probably having some week-end routine, which he does not dare to interrupt. 

What if you were on a date? Goodness, it will be such impoliteness to disturb your night.

What if… you were trying to have some fun with your friends? Well he wouldn’t want to barge in now, won’t he?

What if you were already asleep?! Oh goodness that would be such a fuss..

Or– or…

“It’s just a call, Tenya.” He huffed, grumbling to himself while his thumb hesitantly pressed the button. 

It took a couple of beeps from the line to finally connect to yours, and a small shuffling sound was heard before your groggy voice hummed in confusion, answering the call. 

“M...Mister Iida?” Was what you managed to croak out, your voice nervous and hazy, a small sigh of sleepiness could be heard from your side of the line. 

Tenya scolded himself mentally, chewing on his lower lip in panic as he stammered a few vowels. “Oh goodness, y/n, I-..I’m… so very sorry…” He softly apologized, sighing in regret. “I didn't mean to wake you… j-just go back to sleep, y/n,”

“I’ll inform you about this in Monday..” 

Your voice could be heard mumbling from the other line, chewing your tongue to wake yourself up. “It’s fine, sir… is there anything you need help with…?”

He shook himself, standing up from his seat as if he were to chide you in person. “No, no.”

“Sleep is essential, y/n. I apologize for disturbing your slumber.”

There was silence for a moment in the call, only faint buzzing from the phone repeating upon his ears as he nervously waited for your answer.

“Mmkay sir, g’night…” 

And with that, the line hung up. So did his arm, hung to his side as he sighed to himself, hitting his forehead with his palm repeatedly in frustration. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid..!” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s almost midnight, of course it’s bedtime!” He huffed, straightening his back, tugging down his shirt to straighten it once more as he sat back down to his seat, creaking it in the process.

He propped himself again, hovering his hands over his keyboard, and for a second–he stayed like that, somehow unsure of what to type to the proposal. 

Ahem. 

He propped himself up again, straightening his back, preparing to type. 

…but your voice kept echoing, taunting him from the back of his head. That soft, sleepy little goodnight replaying again and again in his ear, clear as day.

˚୨୧⋆.˚

You walked into the office as per usual the Monday, the few previous night’s little disturbance slipped way out of your mind. But one thing never did; checking in on your boss to inform him of his schedules today. Except… weird.

The disciplinarian Tenya Iida had never been late before, and even if he were ever late, it was late to his own clock. Yet today seemed to be the latter. Tenya Iida, the infamous early bird, your boss, is not to be found in his office. The glass door is still locked, waiting to be opened by his ID card. And so you walked to your cubicle again, placing down your tablet to the table as you rummaged your pocket of your phone, swiftly swiping to his chat room. 

It took him a good five minutes before his typing animation popped by the side of the screen, three little dots jumping up and down before his message got sent;

Weird. You thought again. 

You had been working for this busy man for too long to know the man doesn’t even need alarms to be able to wake up to his schedule. Even if he did, hadn’t his body already memorized the time he has to get up? 

You shrugged it off, fingers already pressing the numbers to the restaurant to order your boss’s breakfast. 

Precise, as always. Ten minutes later, the familiar blue haired man walked into the office, his glasses sat slightly crooked upon the bridge of his nose as he scattered himself into his office. You chuckled at the sight, standing up to catch up to him in his office. With a small knock on the door, it unlocked from inside.

“Good morning, sir.” You greeted, pushing the door with your back as your hands both carried his breakfast; warm egg toast, and a glass of orange juice. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

Tenya stiffens. The sound of his rustling fabric stopping immediately as you greeted him. “M-morning, y/n,” He replied, his slight voice crack immediately covered with him clearing his throat. “I.. have not..” 

Ahem. “H..how’d you know…?”

You chuckled, setting down the meal to his table, before setting your hands to your sides, “I figured it’s hard to think of breakfast when you are running late, sir.” 

Then he grinned. Not the classic professional grin he had always worn, it was… sheepish, almost shy. Tenya’s voice rumbled lowly as he chuckled. “Thank you, y/n.”

With a smile, and a nod of acknowledgement, you excused yourself to take your tablet. As you walked back in, he was still tying his tie, swiftly folding it around his neck while you opened your tablet to swipe to the calendar app. 

Tenya’s back turns away from you as he comes to face you, giving a hum or two as you explained his schedules for today, while sometimes adding somethings in between like; “Oh, that one is cancelled.” or “I think that one is prolonged, y/n. I forgot to inform you.” And you’d nod, typing swiftly on the keyboard or tapping and swiping to edit the schedule for today. So with your morning routine finished, you excused yourself once more, exiting his office to return to your cubicle. 

And now, Tenya was alone in his office, once more. Your steady and intonated voice is gone, replaced by the constant humming from the air conditioner. He glanced at the breakfast you had left him. With awkwardness, he shuffled his way to the table, sitting down to carefully unwrap the sandwich—as if he was being watched. As he chewed, he scolded himself once more. 

How could he have been so out of discipline? He is the boss! And here he is, being late.

With a huff, he slapped himself on both cheeks. He chugged down the orange juice, setting the plate and the glass aside to switch the computer on. 

And then he remembered one thing. The one thing he tried to ask of you that night. He needed help typing those pesky proposals, his fingers already felt way too numb on the keyboard, and his head couldn’t even think of any more pleasing words for those sponsors. So he did, with many nerves, but he did. His fingers already remembered your cubicle phone’s number, and it beeped by with ease. Your voice answered almost immediately.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, uh… may I ask for some favor from you?” His tone cautious, almost as if he was concerned he had disturbed your peace. 

“Oh, Mister Iida. Of course, sir. What is it?”

He cleared his throat, swaying left and right on his spinning chair. “Could you please… help me in writing some proposals for the upcoming project, y/n…?” 

“Oh! Of course, sir. Would you need me to come to your office?”

Then he stayed silent. Glancing to the small couch by the side of his office as he contemplated the choice. “...Sure, that would be great, thank you y/n.” 

“I’ll be right with you, sir.”

And right with him you were. With a soft knock, the door unlocked from inside, allowing you to enter in once more. You clutched your laptop in your hand, carefully stepping into the quiet, isolated space. 

Tenya smiled, gesturing his hand to the couch. “Have a seat, y/n.”

“...I’m very sorry for asking your help on such a short notice,” 

You chuckled, waving your hand dismissively as you set down the laptop on the couch. “It’s alright, sir. It’s my job.”

With no further ado, he cleared his throat with a grin, explaining to you what he needed you to help with, as you propped up your laptop upon your lap, typing in his requirements and points needed to be included in each proposal. 

The two of you went on with silence as you both got to work. Broken only by the rhythmical tap of yours and his keyboard, and his occasional ahem’s. You would sometimes peek glances at him from the corner of your eyes, and as the day progressed, his tie loosened more and more. You couldn’t help but smile faintly at the sight. 

Him too, did so. Everytime you would unconsciously hum that one tune from a song, or mumble out the words you were typing in, he’d sneak a glance at you, smiling softly to himself before snapping his head back to the computer. Because God forbid you look this cute up close. Wait what?

By the last ‘thank you for taking the time to read this proposal’ you typed onto a document, the sky had gone dark, and so did the outside of his office. The clock shows 08:45 PM. You stretched your hands up, groaning softly as you cracked your head to the sides. With a stifled yawn, you swiped around your touchpad. 

“I’ll send the proposals to you, sir.” You informed him, your voice had lost its professionalism long ago, now you only had your hoarse and croaking speech to offer. 

Tenya’s head shot to the side to look at you. He sighed as he twitched up a grateful smile. “Thank you so much, y/n. I’m very sorry to be keeping you this late.”

Your lips pressed up to form a thin smile, as you slipped your laptop into its sleeve, standing up from the couch, a small dent left upon it from how long you sat there. “No need to apologize, mister Iida. I am only doing my job.” 

As you slung your bag over your shoulder, you bowed to him once more. “I’ll be excusing myself if you have nothing left for me to help you with, sir.” 

Tenya hesitated. He opened his mouth, then closed it. But then he opened it again, “Wait,” His voice croaked, his hand stiffly reaching out to yours before he stopped it, immediately pulling it to his side again. He cleared his throat, watching as you turned around again from the door. 

“L-let’s walk together to the exit, hm?”

Blink blink.

“Sure, mister Iida.” You smiled.

“Tenya,” He mumbled, walking to your side.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Hm?”

“Tenya, y/n. Just call me Tenya.” He softly repeated, smiling as he tapped his ID card to the reader beside the door, earning a small beep as the door unlocked for the both of you. 

He opened the door wide, nodding his head to the side to gesture you out. 

You smiled, clutching your laptop sleeve as you walked slowly past him, “Thank you,”

“...Tenya.” 

Goodness. A name should not have sounded that good on your lips, but the way you said his made his back stiff and his arms rigid. He couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, cracking out a grin as he closed the door behind him, walking beside you towards the elevator. 

Small silence fell upon the two of you, one that you had grown familiar with. Tenya wasn’t the type to make unnecessary small talk if it wasn’t needed for hospitality. You and him were strictly, professionally business. A boss and his secretary. At times like these, you would sometimes grab the opportunity to update him on his schedule for the day tomorrow. But tonight was different, that silence felt… different. 

The elevator dinged, and he once again allowed you to enter first. With a nudge to his glasses, he cleared his throat as he stood beside you, subtly shifting his weight from feet to feet after he pressed the elevator button. The faint hum of swing jazz and the aroma of air freshener made it almost dramatic for you to be this nervous. You wanted to open your voice to inform him of his upcoming reviewing deadline, but how the heck do you just call your boss by his first name?! 

“It’s alright to call me by my name, y/n.” He croaked out, his eyes lingering on the elevator buttons as he chewed slightly on his bottom lip. 

You stiffened. “Oh– um… well, …T-tenya,” And he smiled.

“I just wanted to inform you that you’ll have some new… recruits to review, sir.” 

He nodded, his soft smile still not leaving his face as his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, broken by the elevator door opening. His arm stretched out to hold the door, gesturing for you to walk out first, as he mumbled a small, “Alright, remind me that tomorrow, hm?”

You nodded, “I will, sir.”

Tenya’s steps fell soft upon the marble floors as he exited the elevator, and you bowed. 

… “I-I’ll excuse myself then, sir.”

“Tenya, y/n.” He tuts, gently reminding you. 

And you chuckled, almost shy. “Right, right.”

“I’ll excuse myself. …Goodnight,”

“...Tenya.” You softly added, turning on your heel to make your way to the front exit. Your shoes made haste.

All of a sudden, everything felt slightly crooked on his body. Tenya’s knuckle nudged his glasses up his nose, his hand tugged on his coat, combing back his hair, goodness that stupid smile that crept up his mouth from the moment you turned away even felt too wide now. 

He cleared his throat again, drifting his body’s direction to the parking lot, a hand over his mouth, and the night’s cold air had never felt so warm on his face. 

Stop it, stop it, stop that, Tenya!

This is your secretary you are smiling about! Your secretary!

His steps quickened to the parking lot, his loafers trudging about onto the concrete floors as he rushed to his car, beeping it twice before he entered it like a man trying to hide from his assassin. 

Hands gripped onto the steering wheel, and with a long sigh, he started the engine. The car chirped around as he turned the key, and his radio switched on automatically. Sure, he wasn’t the type to listen to songs that much, yet this one just crept up into his ears. An old love song with its classic guitar melodies, lounging on about love is unexpected.

˚୨୧⋆.˚

At last! All the months of preparation and lobbying guests around the building, typing out proposals after proposals, staying back at the office until a few extra hours, the project’s done. It was the day. A charity event, held to fund scholarships for students around Japan. To say it is a success would be an understatement. The event had made itself known to the news, being casted upon to multiple news stations. 

Safe to say, Tenya was beyond proud that his hardwork now paid off. He grinned widely. Upon his hand, perched up a small champagne glass, swirling around with his small motions. 

“You look dashing tonight, Tenya.” You called from behind, cutting through his thoughts.

He immediately spun around, eyes wide and scattering as it looked for you. When they did find you, he may or may not have forgotten how to breathe for a moment. If having you in blazers and loose collared shirts wasn’t enough to make him short circuit, this definitely does its job. The way you had done your hair so effortlessly, yet so enchantingly, and how the soft glimmers from the chandelier made your eyes sparkle, not to mention the formalwear you had chosen for tonight fit a little bit too good on your body. His smile came out strained.

“Ah, thank you.” ahem. “You look… incredible tonight, y/n.” He managed to reply. 

And then you chuckled, and goodness it sounded so melodic to his ears, breathless and light. 

Tenya’s hand pushed his champagne glass to his mouth, sipping the clear bubbling liquid into his mouth to distract himself from the rising rhythm of his heart beat. 

“You look super proud tonight.” You teased, a small smirk as you nudged him lightly by his arm. 

This time it was his turn to chuckle, pursing his lips into a smile. “I couldn’t have done… all of this without your help, y/n.” He said, motioning his hand to the lively ballroom.

Before you could even reply, Tenya was barged around by his friends, congratulating him on his accomplishment of successfully hosting the event. As his hand got dragged away by them, he casted one last look to you, pressing up a pitiful grin as a silent apology, which you replied with a chuckle and a wave of your hand. 

So now here you are. In a bar. In between these people you barely know. Sure, some of them were actually your friends, but they were too busy celebrating the success. Others? Eh, maybe you greet them in the hallways in the mornings and evenings, but that was all. They laughed and giggled drunkenly. Singing and dancing together with their blazers loose, while some of the women only chatted by the counter. 

By the edges of the laughing men, there Tenya sat, his tux already disheveled, his hair loosen down to his flushed face as he laughed about some joke that probably wasn’t that funny. Then his eyes spotted you, making him stumble a bit until he reached you, grinning from ear to ear.

“Goodness, y/n…” He slurred out, leaning against the counter. And you couldn’t help but laugh, seeing your usually strict and discipline boss now all loose and giggly. 

Then he leans. Perhaps a little too close to you. Yet you didn’t mind. You didn’t mind when he swayed, pointing to your face, smiling stupidly with his alcohol reeked breath. “Youu…”

“You are… so amazing, you know that…?”

Hm? 

Come again?

You waved your hand as you chuckled, looking away to hide that small flush of pinkness on your cheeks. “I think you’ve had way too many for tonight, sir.”

“S’ Tenyaaa,” He whined, leaning closer to you. “Stop calling me sir, y/n…” 

You stifled back a laugh, rolling your eyes as you sighed. “Fiine, fine,”

“Tenya, I think you’ve had your fair share of alcohol for tonight.” 

He leans his head to the side, pushing the counter with his weight. His eyes downcast and hazy, he smiled softly to you. “You think so?” 

A small chuckle escaped your lips as you shook your head. “I know so, si—Tenya.”

The table scraped softly as you pushed a small glass of water to him, clinking the glass with the back of your finger. “Maybe some water would do you good.” You smiled, nudging the glass once more to get his attention to it.

Then he smiles, leaning his head upon the counter with his arms below his chin. His eyes hazily looked into yours, as if he was…admiring you. His smile grew before his hand reached out, moving away a loose strand of hair off your face. It was soft, gentle, tender. Something you would never expect from the stiff and professional Tenya Iida. From your own boss. 

His touch lingered a moment on the side of your cheek, he tucked his hand away again beneath his chin before he spoke, “You…”

“How are you this radiant…?” He murmured quietly, head tilting just slightly as he narrowed his eyes in awe. 

The loud and chattering bar seemed to quiet down at that moment, while the heat in your cheeks rose up. You cleared your throat, pushing the glass towards him again with your face turned to the other way. “Drink some water, Tenya.” You reminded, brushing him off. 

A low chuckle was what you heard, along with fabric shuffling softly as he stood up again, still leaning to the counter top. “You’re ignoring me.” He said, amusement lacing his tone. 

“No, I’m reminding you, Tenya.”

“...You’re caring for me,” He smiled. Sure, you weren’t looking at him, but that small change in his tone was recognizable. Yet this one wasn’t really heard much by you. It was small, subtle, yet there was a tone of admiration in it. Like someone saying ‘Aww’. 

You scoffed, turning your head to look at him again. “I always do,” Well maybe you shouldn’t have said that. 

…

…

Ahem! The bar stool croaked through the floor as you stood up, collecting your bag and coat. 

“I’ll be calling that a night, Tenya.” You slipped out a small greeting, smiling to his still-leaning form.

His face dropped to a small frown, almost a pout. “You’re leaving…?” His question sounded more like a weak plea. Disappointed and sad about your farewell. 

You chuckled as you zipped your bag up. “Yes, Tenya.”

“Tomorrow I still need to be in the office.” You teased, tilting your head slightly as you smiled at him. 

“...I also need to be in the office, I’m your boss.” He scoffed, his tone cocky and proud.

“Exactly,”

Putting your coat back on, you rattled the keys of your car in your hand, sinking it into the pockets. You clutched your bag, straightening up your posture while you brush yourself off before bowing to him. “Goodnight, Tenya.”

“...Get home safe, okay?” You smiled, turning away to walk towards the exit. 

Darn you and your soothing voice. Darn you and your smile. Darn you. His gaze stayed pinpointed on you even as you opened the doors of the bar to exit it, walking with that pace he’s grown to know too well. Steady steps with sureness, like you always had somewhere to be. The smile crept back onto his face. His gaze drifted back to the glass of water as he huffed a chuckle, grabbing it into his hand before sipping it. 

With a slow shake of his head, he let out another chuckle, softer this time. 

“Little minx.."

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

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.”

EHEHEHEHEEEEE THIS IS 💕💕💕💕💕✅✅✅✅💥💥💥💕💕💕💕

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎

pairing: sero hanta x gn!reader

genre/warnings: camp counselor au/summer camp au, fluuuuffy fluff, suggestive, substance use (weed), cussing, implied sexual content in public (making out)

nothing brings out the attraction between two counselors more like late night smoke sessions and the inevitable end of summer camp

Hello,

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do consider this one, everyone :)

𐙚⋆° — reparation

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

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

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

➤ masterlist!

4,1k word count!

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

You remember that time, texting Kyoka about it.

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

And maybe that was the trigger point. 

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

Or so you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blinked. 

Someone..?

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

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

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

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

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

༉‧₊˚.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess,” You mumbled.

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

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

“I like the quietness better, actually.”

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

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

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

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

He pssh’ed, “Duh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clack.

An hour and thirty minutes.

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

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

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

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

‘Don’t break this one >:(‘

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

Someone.

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

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

༉‧₊˚.

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

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

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

༉‧₊˚.

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

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

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

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

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

“...You’re just bribing me,”

“I’m for reeaaaalll”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your chewing paused. “…Like what?”

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

You shot him a look. “Han—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

…cares about you. 

But that was just a silly thought. 

You snorted. 

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

༉‧₊˚.

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

The clock showed the time—06:30 P.M.

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

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

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

His joke.

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

Wait. Is that…?

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

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

Like he was proud of it. 

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

So you ran. 

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

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

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

༉‧₊˚.

Two weeks.

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

But he brushed it off. 

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

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

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

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

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

So he gave you that. 

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

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

Oh he screwed up. He screwed something up. 

“Oh, uh..”

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

“Mhm, okay.” 

Shiiiittt he’s so screwed. 

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

༉‧₊˚.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kaminari whistled. “Bingo.”

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

“Go, Han.” 

༉‧₊˚.

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

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

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

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

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

“I uh…”

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

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

“...Y-you’re mad, at me, …I think,”

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

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

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

“B-because—...”

“I care?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Because I do.” 

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

“I…I do like you, y/n.”

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

You stared at him. 

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

“For a long time now, okay?”

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

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

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

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

“Please don’t… don’t leave,” 

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

So you smiled, “I like you too,”

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

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

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

Ahem. “Okay wait, pause—” 

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

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

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

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

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

“S’ yours now,”

“...What?”

“My blazer—...your blazer.”

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

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

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

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

“Steamed cake and banana milk.”

He grinned. “Just how you like it,” 

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

Like home.

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

i gotta write other things other than this man i swear

just saw your cheerleader x bhna boys and 🤯🤯 I LOVE ITT

could you do this but with musical theatre reader and maybe add shinso?? 💗🤗

⋆˚࿔ behind the spotlight

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

𓂃　♪　𓈒 cw: mostly gn!reader but eiji and denki say girlfriend once, fluff, established relationship, babe and baby used

𓂃　★ 𓈒 a/n: thank u for the request anon! i’ll take this as a sign to never exclude shinsou again lolol so i added a little extra for u shinsou fans

⋆˚࿔ e.kirishima

eijiro is your biggest fan, making you feel like a mainstream actor. when you tell him you landed the lead role in newest musical, he seemed to be more excited than you! “i know you could do it, you’re the best!”

eijiro acts like your manager—a super nice one of course—he helps you rehearse your lines and guides you through warming up your voice.

he comes to every rehearsal he can make it too. eijiro cheers for you and your peers. your peers actually love him, how could they not? stage crew like to use him to carry and lift things, he enjoys doing these things knowing they help you in the long run.

secretly memorizes all the songs (and learns the meaning behind each of them) you’re singing so he won’t only be watching but also understanding.

his favorite musical is legally blonde! he thinks it’s super fun and elle woods quickly becomes his new inspiration.

on opening night, he gives you a bouquet of flowers before you go and stage. even in a rush he can’t help but encourage you, “can’t wait to see you on stage baby, i’m so excited.”

he is cheesing in the front row seats, his eyes not leaving you for a single second. he’s the first one standing when the show is over, clapping as the curtains come to a close.

“you were so good!” he engulfs you in a bear hug and you laugh. he is also brought to tears when he sees your glowing face, you’re like a real-life star and he gets to live in your glory.

after another bouquet of flowers and a million praises, he finally takes you home.

for the next three week he’s singing non-stop, the songs from the musical stuck in his head.

⋆˚࿔ d.kaminari

denki doesn’t know much about musical theater but after watching your first performance he finds that it’s his new eye candy.

when you tell him you landed the lead role denki grins, “what do i always say? my girlfriend is crazy talented!” his arm is draped around your shoulder. he pulls you closer, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “you’re gonna do amazing, i know it.”

tries his best to help you rehearse but gets distracted. “wait so, she has a crush on her sister's husband? that’s fucked up man.” even with his confusion he still manages to be super into the drama of it all.

denki lets you practice your stage makeup on him and is actually excited when you ask him to. thought by the end of it, he’s unsure, “are my cheeks supposed to be that… pink?”

would lose his mind if you had to do an onstage kiss. “can’t you just high-five instead! i mean you don’t have to kiss!” he says while he crosses his arm, practically pouting.

his favorite musical is heathers, no explanation needed. spongebob is a close second.

has tried to help backstage once but accidentally bumped into a switch and caused a power outage. the stage crew has been a little more cautious around him after that.

arrived to your show right as it starts so he can’t see you face to face until after the show, he’s devastated about this.

runs backstage as soon as the curtains fall, screaming. “BABE! YOU DID GREAT OUT THERE!” crushing you in a hug. he pulls back to hand you some flowers, the bouquet looking a bit shabby because he got fidgety during the show. “you're a star, should sign with broadway.” he teases as he walks you out.

denki somehow convinced the other theater kids to have an after party. so you spend the night celebrating with your boyfriend who makes this accomplishment feel special.

he may have auditioned for the next show to surprise you but didn’t get the role so he never told you about it.

⋆˚࿔ h.sero

hanta acts chill, but in the inside, he is amazed on how you keep on becoming more and more perfect, “lead role? holy shit babe that’s huge!” he brings you close and ruffles your hair “looks like i got an actor on my hands now.” he teases.

hanta is an absolute sweetheart, but he’s no actor. “oh no, how could you do this to me. i’m in completely despair.” he reads off the script with not a single hit of emotion behind his words. he then looks up with you with a grin, “did i do it good?” he’s trying his best to help you.

if you have a dance-heavy role he’ll joke about being jealous of your dance partner (he is not joking, he is jealous). he offers to help you practice dancing; this is mostly for his own pleasure.

tried to harmonize with you once but his voice cracked. hasn’t attempted to sing again since that day.

adds little encouraging doodles in the margins of your script. some with encouraging messages like, “you got this superstar!” others are… not so encouraging “i should’ve been cast as your super hot and cool love interest.”

got banned from watching your rehearsals because he would cheer every time you said your lines and boo everytime your love interest spoke. (denki was there supporting—booing—too)

his favorite musical was matilda, but after finding out that it’s originally british he changed it to mamma mia. now he can’t help but cry whenever he hears slipping through my fingers.

brings you chocolates and flowers on opening night. gives you a forehead kiss before you go on stage. “i’m might be more nervous than you,” he lets out an airy laugh and you end up having to comfort him. “break a leg!” he says as you walk off, his voice still weary.

he pretends to be causal when he sees you preform for the first time but how could he? you were perfect in every way and so impossible to ignore.

“you are so awesome.” is all he can say when you come off the stage. he is absolutely starstruck. he pulls you a long hug because he is just so freaking proud of you.

⋆˚࿔ h.shinsou

hitoshi is a part of the tech/backstage crew for the theater. he’s seen all the shows and actors before. so it comes to no surprise to him when you tell him you got the lead role, knowing how good you are. “of course you got the lead baby, you’re the best actor here.” he almost laughs at your modesty.

you both being theater heads leads to a lot of helping each other out! arriving at the theater early to help him prepare the stage speakers while you warm up your voice.

hitoshi is ecstatic when you ask him to adjust your mic or move the lights. he’ll take any chance he can to help you out.

if you’re alone in the theater rehearsing, hitoshi sometimes likes to mess with you through the intercom “that’s not how you said the line last time!” he calls out. you didn’t even know he was watching you.

lets you ruffle his hair and mess with his headset.

maybe the other actors don’t know it, but the stage crew does. hitoshi makes sure the stage crew never hears the end of your achievements. he doesn’t even mean to, he just finds himself commenting on your performance.

“she’s really good at that.” he watches from backstage with a smile, speaking to no one in particular.

“be careful with that set piece, my girlfriend is on stage.” he says it deadpan, but eveyone knows he’s serious.

his favorite musical is the addams family, obviously.

consoles in izuku about color theory so he can learn what color stage lights will match best with your skin tone.

you get ready for opening night together. he zips up your costume and you tighten his tie. he gives you flowers and a high quality pair of sheer tights, you almost propose to him right there.

hitoshi is happy he has the pleasure of watching you backstage, seeing you from an angle no one else is.

you stand next to each other when the show is over, and the time comes to bow for the crowd. he doesn’t let go of your hand when the curtain drops. before you can even open your mouth to ask, he speaks “perfect, fucking perfect.” he praises as guides you into a gentle kiss.

lowk i think the only rzn i like fanfics sm is bc im single af and want to be loved

༄.° — when you’re sober.

pairings : hanta s. x gn!reader

warnings : use of drugs, swearing, no gender mentioned but reader is called pretty

➤ masterlist!

You can’t really remember what started your friendship with Hanta. It was a haze, an echo of memories, blurring together. But all you know is that nowadays, you’d lie around his apartment doing whatever. Sometimes it was playing stupid games on his console, reading his comics, or cooking together, or gossiping, anything. And you fell comfortable with it all, the small routine you would do together. You even bought a new toothbrush just to leave at his place in case your work caught you too late into the night, and the road just felt too scary to drive through alone. 

“It’s alright sweets, m’ always happy for a company.” He said that time, the first time you called him nervously to ask if it was okay to crash by his place. The sultry, smooth tone of his voice had always seeped through, lazy and giggly. Classically Hanta—always sounding high even when he wasn’t.

It was another one of those nights, you had only gotten off work at around midnight, and the thought of driving all the way back to your own place felt like such a drag. Hanta’s apartment was just a few blocks away. The day felt like hell anyway, you needed some form of entertainment. Your finger went autopilot as you scrolled through your contacts, immediately knowing where to stop at tap at his number. 

Beeeep… beeeep… Then a click. A small shuffling sound was heard before Hanta’s grinning voice was heard.

“Yeess, you can crash at my plaacee,” He answered immediately, knowing what your question was going to be. He chuckled before you heard him inhale, a small crackle of fire heard by the side.

You laughed, already packing your things into your bag, zipping up your laptop in its small sleeve. "Thanks, Han."

Exhale.. “Can you grab somethin’ for me though?”

“Mhm? From the grocery store?”

“Uhuh, just some milk, if ya don’t mind.” 

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The small apartment studio now ghosted with smokes from the small roll of paper on Hanta’s hand, flowing the grey-ish fog like river through a forest, while you busied yourself with a cup of coffee by his counter, the small metal spoon clinking to the sides of the glass as you stirred in your sugar, your mouth grumbling about your hell of a day.

“And then he yelled at me! In front of everyone!!” You exclaimed, disbelief in your voice as you looked over to him. 

“Dickhead,” He giggled, taking another drag before blowing a thick smoke to the air. “Shoulda slapped him right then and there.” 

You plopped down next to him on the couch, placing your coffee down before you huffed as you crossed your arms to your chest, throwing yourself back to the plush backrest of his couch. 

You groaned, shoulders tense. “I did everything he asked for, and he just— ugh!!” You threw your hands up, running them up your face as if that could clear your head.

Hanta’s chuckle sounded low. “Here,” His voice softly offered, nudging his hand gently to your cheek to offer you his half-smoked joint. His weed-filled smile now turned to something soft, sympathetic, almost sorry for your state.

“M’ not in the mood, Han.” You rejected, almost sounding like a low whine as you gently pushed his hand away as you leaned to his shoulder. 

“Aw,” He huffed, that stupid smile not leaving his face as he pulled the joint away.

The day’s haste caught up to you, the frustration, exhaustion, stress, yanked you by the hair, prickling tears to your eyes. And you could only grunted in anger to stop it from flowing down your cheeks. 

You choked in a sob, groaning in frustration. “Fuck, why am I—crying?”

Before you could protest, his thin hands wrapped by the other side of your shoulder, softly pulling you into his embrace as he tutted gently. “It’s okay to cry, hm?” He lazily assured, a small grin gracing his lips as his hand traced small circles on the small of your back. “Your boss's a shitload, y/n.” Hanta’s words slurred, a small hum slipping in between his words as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. “You're too pretty to be sad about him,”

Then he paused, the air only filled with your soft sniffles and his small breaths. His mind a haze, and what he thought he said in his mind suddenly slipped out of his mouth. 

“Too pretty, too good, too… everything…” 

You looked up, hands softly wiping your slight tears as you searched for his eyes between his guilty grin and weed and smoke reeked breath. 

“You’re everything, darling..” He giggled, softly brushing the back of his finger to your cheek. 

A smile graced your lips, and you slowly pulled away from his embrace, studying his face from afar. 

Silence fell upon you two, just the small sounds of cars honking outside and the fan from his bathroom whirring. Then you scoffed in amusement, “You’re so high right now” Words you said, with a chuckle.

His smile slowly faded as the words echoed in his mind, blurring to the sensation in his head. He quickly shook his head, “No, m’ not…” While smoke slightly puffed out of his mouth. His hands quickly placed the small rolled up paper, still oozing out smoke from its end. “Bein’ high’s one thing, but m’ being honest, sweets” He slurred, begging softly as he reached his hand to yours.

His hand graced yours, as you looked up to his eyes again, staring back at you were his dark, half lidded, slightly bloodshot eyes. And you couldn’t bring yourself to believe. It’s already three years since you've known him, and he’s shown you too well that he had a silver tongue. 

“Yeah?” You asked. “The same words you said to–maybe… five? Other people, hm?” Leaning your head slightly to the side. 

Hanta’s brows furrowed—confused. His elbows moved to struggle and support him from the couch. 

He stammered a few vowels before slowly rubbing his hazy eyes to look at you again. “No, no…” He waved his hand lazily, letting it drop to his lap. The other supported his seemingly heavy head, swaying slightly from side to side. “Just to you, sweets… m’ being honest here…” He continued, rasp and croak in his tone as he tried to reach for your hand again. 

You sighed, reaching for the-now-cold-cup of coffee. A small sip brought coarse and sweetness to your tongue. “Really?” You glanced at him, his form still slowly reaching for your hand as he nodded, tugging on your arm again to pull you into his embrace.

“Of course really,” His smile returned slightly, leaning his chin to your shoulder. His hand slowly snaked beneath your arm. “Always did.” He said those two words with hesitance, volume smaller than usually. He slowly buried his face to the small curve between your neck and shoulder, his breath fanned through the thin material of your shirt. And you scoffed. 

“You’re just high.”

He chuckled lazily. “Maybe,” 

“But it’s still honest, y/n.” That sounded ridiculous to you, somehow.

He fell silent again, and the small whir of the wind dancing through the open window filled the room again. His breath continued to gently greet your skin, and your finger absent-mindedly rubbed the body of your coffee cup. 

You cleared your throat, “...You’ll forget this tomorrow.” You softly mumbled, standing up to collect your bag. 

Hanta's grin stayed there for a moment longer before he realized what you were doing. Then his mind scattered, he reached out to you, stumbling over his own feet as he stood up. “N-no, no,”

His hand reached to you slowly, eyes hazy and drifting from side to side.

“Y/n, wait..” his voice came out weaker than how he wanted it to be, his vision is mixing everything up and God if he can get the weed out of his system right now, he’ll do it. 

“M’ being honest, sweets, truth,” He reached out, supporting himself to the wall as he tried to register his surroundings. Your form fell clear upon his eyes, and he could only attempt to reach for your wrist. “L-listen…”

You wrapped up the last of your things into your bag with a ziip! Before looking back at him, messy and high, half lidded and bloodshot. You grimaced. Never had his high-thoughts made you this… sad? Hesitant? Hopeful? 

“I’ll listen when you’re sober, Han” You muttered, walking to the door.

“But I’m bein’ honest, y/n, please…” 

“I just… I can’t say it… when I’m sober please… listen,”

clack.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

You’re met with the same familiar—almost sickening sight of your computer in front of you. Your cubicle is a cluttered mess of papers and sticky notes, it’s almost lunch, and not once have you seen a text notification other than from your boss. Not that you were expecting a text from anyone… right?

And the day went on just like that, just like any other day. You find yourself having to do overtime again. As you finished the last sentences of the document, you glanced at your phone, it was midnight again. God, the road to your house was too far to drag yourself through, but you just couldn’t.

You just couldn’t open up that contact card to press the phone button, and ask if you could crash at his place. You can’t, and you won’t.

So you switched off the computer, rushingly picked up your earphones, your phone, and grabbed your car key before turning to the elevator, marching your way out of the empty office. 

As the elevator dinged, you stepped inside. With doubt—and hope, you checked your phone again. A small voice hoped he had called, or at least texted you. But he didn’t. You scoffed, “So he was just high.” 

The familiar lobby of the building greeted you again as you stepped out of the elevator, slowly walking towards the glass doors as you said your goodbyes to the security guards there. With a huff, your hand pushed the glass door, the midnight air greeting your face. Tears pricked by your eyes, not from the cold, you couldn’t quite place why, but you felt like crying. 

You felt like crying because today was so tiring, because you have to drive home alone,

...because he said those things while being high, and decided not to say anything the next day.

“Stupid Hanta with his stupid fucking weed, making me hope for—”

The soft crack of concrete broke you out of your sobs, you turned to your right.

And there he stood.

His stupid grin staring back at you as he swayed back and forth on his feet, his hands buried in the pocket of his hoodie. He cleared his throat, a bit louder than he had to as he walked slowly, closer to you now. 

“...M’ sorry, pretty” He softly spoke, his hand emerging slowly from his pocket to softly brush away the hair on your face, his thumb wiping your tear hesitantly.

You flinched slightly from his touch, tearing your face away, making him stare at your back. “Do you even know what you’re sorry for, Han?” 

A small moment of silence fell, broken only by the soft winds swooshing in your ear and the small crickets of the night.

You huffed, exactly. He forgot. So you opened your mouth to say—

“For… saying those things,” He caught before you. 

“...While I’m high,” He stuttered, the sound of the concrete cracking again beneath his feet as he swayed back and forth again. And that caught you silent. He remembered.

“I-I…I’m sorry,” 

He walked closer, the heat of his body slowly taunting upon your back. “Sorry for… not texting you all day,”

“I was… nervous, sweets.” He admits—almost shyly. Biting his lip in hesitation before he gently pulled your shoulder, making you turn and look at him. 

“...I was scared you’d… laugh at me,” He said, his eyes drifting to the ground before muttering, “Or somethin’..”

With a soft tug, he pulled you close, his hand finding his way to your waist, the warmth of his hands contrasting the cold night. “But I mean… everything that I said, y/n, truth.” Tender was his voice, soft and gentle as his finger slowly tilted your chin up to search upon his eyes. It felt…real now. His eyes clear as day and dark as night at the same time, his voice hoarse and low, almost desperate. 

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes as if he’s preparing for something, “I mean it when I said you’re pretty, when I said you’re too good, too kind,”

“...Fuck, y/n, I mean it when I said you’re everything to me.”

And silence fell again, you couldn’t wipe away the disbelief written, no, painted all over your face. Your mouth parted open, closing again, opening—say something! 

So you decided that words weren’t your answer.

His world fell still when your hand slowly pulled his face close, his lips brushing upon yours before you spoke softly, “...That was all I wanted to hear, Han.” Last words he heard before he pushed himself to you, gently basking in the warmth of your lips upon his. He gently pulled you flush against him, sighing softly against your lips, he smiled. “Took you long enough,” 

You smiled, hands finding his hoodie to grip it, pulling him closer to you to kiss him again. 

“Shut up,” You giggled, finally pulling away shyly as you hid your eyes from him. 

Then he grinned, gently pulling your face to look at him again. “My place, hm?” He smiles, his thumb tracing your cheek softly, wiping the tear that stuck to your face from earlier.

“Gotta make it up for not callin’ you, hm?” That stupid grin was back, laced with something else, the cherry on top? winking at you. 

A giggle was all you managed, nodding shyly. 

He squeezed your waist just a little, snatching the car key from your hand before leading you to your car. “After you, sweets.” He ushered, opening the passenger seat. You obliged, looking back to him with a small smile and confusion lacing your eyes just slightly.

“Not gonna let you drive back,"

"Now that you’re mine, gotta treat you right, hm?”

dworkism | do not repost!

a/n: hihihihi sorry if this was kinda fast paced :)))

➤ masterlist!

⋆˙⟡ ── to defy the stars.

pairings : knight!tenya i. x fem!reader

warnings : arranged marriage mentioned :0

➤ masterlist!

“Good morning, your highness.” 

The boy greeted, bowing to you in his way that you’ve grown familiar with. His eyes dared not to look into yours as his head kept low, finding his boots so very interesting.

“Arise, Tenya” You chuckled, watching as the blue haired boy rose from his curt, his dark blue eyes not daring to gaze into your own. 

It had been two years — well, 22 months, and a week, to be exact — since he was assigned to you, the next heir of the throne, the beloved princess, as your private guard. His job was simple; be with you at all times, and to protect you from any harm that comes your way. You had grown fond of him, his stiff movements, his worrisome habit, and his ever so slightly loud voice. 

He would follow you around as you took your walks by the city, greeting the citizens and haggling with the vendors, or playing with the children. It had seemed as if he was keeping a tight watch in every area you are in, his eyes would narrow if someone had gotten too close, his hands would ready themselves on the hilt of his sword if their hands went to a suspicious pocket. Slowly though, as he had spent time with you, he had grown fond of your jokes, your lighthearted jabs at him, and even your habit of purposely walking slowly towards your council meetings.

“Smile, Tenya. It does not kill you.” You say, seeing as the boy would always keep a sharp gaze to the surroundings, his mouth ever so slightly forming a frown. And he would comply, “Y-yes, your highness” and a small curve up his lips would appear. You had always admired his smile, and even complimented him many times for it, hoping that he would take it as a sign for him to start smiling more. For a small reason that — goodness, he scares the people away with that sharp gaze of his.

⋆˚✿˖°

The day Tenya had received the news of being chosen as the kingdom heir’s guard, he was ecstatic. He made sure to polish his sword, his armour, and even bought new shoes to be at his best. His steps were wide and confident as he made his way to the castle grounds. He memorized all the proper etiquette he had learned to greet a royalty, talk to a royalty, everything. He greeted the king and queen just fine, they smiled and approved of his bow, his replies, all were met with a knowing glance from the two, nodding to each other.

Then his eyes then laid upon you, the heir of the kingdom. Of course, the papers and people had praised you for your beauty, your elegance, and all sweet words. Yet it all came too short to even describe you. To him, you were radiant. He bowed to you that day, introducing himself, and even as you commanded him to rise, he dared not to look in your eyes, fearing he might stutter.

The days he spent with you were filled with schedules, and he would follow from behind as you attended your classes, went to walk by the city, attended your council meetings, or even ate dinner. 

Slowly, you allowed him to sit by the dinner table along with you, growing fond of his presence. “Sit with me, Tenya” You softly instructed, your hand gesturing to the seat beside you. 

So, as days turned to weeks, and weeks into months, Tenya now found himself memorizing your schedule, where he had to escort you to, what sweets you liked—wait, no, that’s not…— but oh, it is. 

Like it or not, for the last two years, Tenya continues to find himself growing in admiration towards you, and it only grows stronger each day as he watches you smile, laugh, chuckle, talk, goodness! Even the way you would slightly lose your temper in handling the council meetings looks so powerful and admirable to him. He finds himself unable to tear his gaze from you as you write your studies down to your books, his heartbeat would jolt and his chest would flourish with even a graze of your skin touching his hands, and he still couldn’t look you in the eyes without stuttering his words, and the sight of you in any dress seemed to always make his breath hitch in his throat. The way you would smile when saying his name, when you emphasize the syllables, it sends him into a spiral. This is… frustrating to him. He longed to hold you, to kiss your hand as you descended into your bedroom, to tuck your hair behind your ear, to… love you…

…He was but a knight, and you were the direct heir to the kingdom, a princess. He knew his feelings were a clap with only one hand. He is but a knight, a guard meant to watch from the sidelines, and not to interfere. For you were to find a suitor soon, and he had no chances of being one of them.

Yet he persisted, he pushed reality away, ignorance is bliss afterall. 

He would accompany you as you talked through the night at the castle gardens, babbling to him about anything, as your fingers danced on top of the water of the fountain, and you would sneak glances at him from the water, and sometimes flicked a trickle of water to his face, giggling. He would smile, and only to you, a warm grin would even form at his face, and his hands would twitch, tempted to move a loose strand of hair away from your face. You would tell stories to him of your day, knowing he was there through all of it, and he would listen, humming as a response. 

He finds himself helping you pick and choose your jewelry, and you’d sometimes laugh while putting up an earring to his ear, “You look beautiful, Tenya.” And the four words would send shivers down his spine, and his voice came out softer than how it would usually.

Tenya knew this was all wrong, he shall not, he should not be having these… interactions with you, he should not look at you so, it’s unprofessional, it’s against his protocol! It’s… forbidden. 

⋆˚✿˖°

You walked through the castle garden slowly, your hands clasped lazily behind your back as Tenya followed you close from behind. Your eyes wander through the trees, the flowers that now bow their heads to the setting sun. Tenya’s heavy boots’ steps became a rhythm to your own, and you found yourself falling into step beside him.

“The noon is beautiful today, hm?” 

“Indeed, your highness.”

Your heart flutters as you glance at him, smiling to you with the smile that you love perhaps a little too much. That smile that he never gave to anyone… but you. That smile, with his deep blue eyes, like pools that you would bathe in. Those eyes that made you… come alive every time you gaze into them. Despite his cold demeanor, stiff discipline, yet that softness in his eyes—they were always present when he talked to you, or when he was chiding you gently for your recklessness, and you would always find your heart hammering to your chest every time he did, and your words would stutter, stuck at the tip of your tongue. 

The feeling no longer felt unfamiliar to you, unlike the first time he offered to listen to your worries that night by the fountain, and even offered his coat to you. Goodness, were you always this shy? It seemed like talking to other men would flow like breathing to you, but since that night, Tenya’s figure always seemed to shine in your eyes, and you slowly found yourself looking for him in every room you enter whenever he was not around, sneaking glances to whenever he was training, and even complimented him purposely to see his cheeks grow red. 

You knew this was wrong. You are a princess, the heir to the throne, for gods’ sake! You shall not, you mustn’t.

But it’s only a small admiration… is it not…?

You sighed to push away the thought, turning to him as you walked backwards, “Do I look presentable for dinner, Tenya?”

He smiled softly, looking at you with a knowing gaze. “Of course you do, your highness.” He paused. Then continued, “...Y-you look… radiant, as always.” 

⋆˚✿˖°

“My dear,” The king smiled as he wiped his mouth from his dinner. He had a knowing smile on his face, one you grew to know too well; he had good news to share.

“The neighboring kingdom has sent a proposal.” He continued, a huge grin on his face. You knew too well what this was about, the past few months you’ve been nagged about seeking marriage, a prince or a nobleman to love and to cherish for the rest of your days. You knew all too well that he had found a kingdom who finally offered their son for you to marry. 

“...A marriage, father?” You made sure, your hands cutting the steak on your plate carefully. “Sharp as always, my dear. You are correct once more.” 

Tenya’s quiet movements paused, his hands felt stiff on his knife as he cut his steak, and the voices, noises of the dining hall seemed to be mere echoes at that moment. The day he had dreaded has come, the day he wished and dreamed will never come, came at last. He knew, oh he knew too well that this day would come, but the sting felt like venom in his chest, and the thought of you dancing, smiling at other men shot a chorus of jealousy through his veins that lasted short as he realized; you weren’t even his, not in the slightest.

“But father, isn’t it too soon? And this kingdom hasn’t been on the best terms with us…” Your voice cuts through his thoughts, though quiet and filled with uncertainty. You opened your mouth once more, “Not to mention—” The king raised his palm, commanding silence. 

“...I wish nothing but the best for you, dear daughter. You know that well.” 

“But father–” 

“y/n…I do not wish to argue as of now.” The king threatened, his brows frowning.

“...But their son!! Father, his reputation is not–” 

“I know, my dear, I know…” He sighed. “But this marriage shall be a great benefit–”

The chair croaked through the ground as you stood up, fists clenching by your sides as your eyes set ablaze. Your lips curled into a scoff.

“A great benefit to whomst?! You?!”

“My dear—”

“No!” You yelled, your vision narrowing from your furrowing brows.

You scowled as you turned away from the dining table, your shoes clacked against the stone floors, echoing through the room and halls as you exited the dining hall. Tenya’s eyes followed your figure, his eyes frowned at the sight, flickering back and forth from you and the king, frowning. 

“...E-excuse me, your majesty.” Tenya stood up, earning a wave of dismissal from the sighing king. 

His steps fell heavy upon the stone floors as he followed your way, exiting the dining hall, his head darted left to right, yet your familiar graceful figure wasn’t there, only the moonlight that seeped from the castle’s windows, the crickets singing a numb ring to his ears as he progressed down the hallway. 

“Your highness, your highness!” He called out, and the echoes of his own voice answered his call.

His boots fell heavy upon the cobblestone floors, the metal embellishments on his uniform clinked against each other as his arms swung front to back. But then, the familiar gleam of moonlight whispered into his eyes, upon the water in the fountain by the castle gardens, there the moon had settled, amongst its glow, you sat by the fountain, your fingers danced upon its water.

“Your highness!” He breathed out a relieved sigh, his tone hushed as he rushed to your side.

You stayed silent, refusing to look at him. He shall not see you, not when you’re this fragile. You lift your hand to your face to swipe a tear off your cheek, sighing softly.

“Y-your highness,” He breathed. 

A familiar twitch tugged on his arm, that one tug that always begs him to reach out his hand and hold you in his arms, enveloping you, to stroke your hair gently and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He ignores it.

“Leave me be Tenya,” You sniffled, your shoulder jolted slightly from your remaining sobs. You refused to turn your back to the fountain and face him, ashamed that you had cried in front of him. “But your highness–”

“You are dismissed for today, Tenya.” 

He froze, hesitance tugging the strings of his heart. Yet he did not leave, he stayed silent by your side as your quiet sobs slowly sang along with the trickling water and the harmony of crickets. The heat of his body was still present, taunting you from behind.

“Your highness, please, for this once, let me stay by your side.”

You opened your mouth to repeat your command, but it was stopped by a click from the embellishments of his uniform, along with a shuffle from the velvet brushing up against his arms, and yours.

The air hitched in your throat. The cold air of the night disappeared almost immediately as you felt his arms around you, the velvety coat of the fabric, along with the feels of his cotton gloves cautiously resting upon your arms. His chest was flush to your back, and responding to the drumming of your heart, your hand instinctively reached to his arms, now circling carefully upon your chest. His breath was shaking, trembling, as if in fear, but also relief. Tenya’s head slowly rested on your shoulder, and you could feel his body shake ever so slightly as his breaths hitched and choked softly in sobs.

“Your highness,” He croaked, his voice strained. “Please… please, talk to me…” 

You stayed quiet.

“Your highness… I would listen to you ramble about anything, your days, your accomplishments, your sadness…anything, your highness… so please… talk to me.”

You slowly turned your body to face him in his embrace, he stood straight back up, his eyes now welling with tears as his lips pursed slightly to hold them back.

“But why… Tenya…?” You asked softly, the hints of tears still present in your voice.

He stayed silent, his beautiful admiral blue eyes slowly finding home to gaze upon yours, before he said;

“For it is because I love you, princess.” He confessed, his voice barely above a whisper as he trembled, darting away his gaze from yours in shame.

“...I love you…so very much,”

“A-and… I would trade nothing… to listen to you talk to me.” He continued, letting his mouth ramble on, the exhaustion of keeping a secret too big to handle dawning upon him. 

Your eyes grew wide with every single sentence he muttered out in hints of embarrassment and relief.

“I-I know… these feelings are wrong,” He stammered, his hands slowly finding your hands, gently holding them to his chest. 

“But I… I am but a knight, princess…no– I…”

“I am but a man and— gods help me… I try so hard...”

“So hard to keep my distance… but I just… couldn’t.” A sob escaped his lips, almost desperate. 

“It’s always you, my lady… always you… who makes me weak to my knees, always you who makes me smile, I… I love you …too much, it hurts.” He confessed. And as he did, his voice became lower and lower, his head ducking in shame, and his sobs frequent. But he shakingly kept your hands pressed to his chest, and you could clearly hear his racing heart.

Maybe it was the wine that was served at dinner, or was it just grape juice? Either way, your hands found their way to his cheeks, slowly guiding his face to yours. 

Then, Tenya’s world fell silent when his lips touched yours. Hesitance, then certainty. His hands slowly enveloped your waist, his thumb traced circles upon it, and one caressed your cheek as he sighed against your lips, meeting his forehead to yours.

“I love you… so much, princess,” He whispered, his finger gently brushed away the hair covering your face as he pressed a light kiss to your forehead, his tears met your skin.

“Shall the stars not write me into your story, I shall carve my name myself.”

dworkism | do not repost!

a/n : sorry it's been SOOO long since i've posted :(((((((( i was caught up with schoolwoorkkjdksjkskdj

ALSO SOSORRY IF HES OOC this is my first time writing for him 😔😔😔😔😔

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⋆.˚— mha boys x support!gn!reader

ft. hanta s., izuku m., eijiro k., denki k.

scenario : their first encounters with you—a support course student—and how they slowly catch feelings for you :)

warnings : slight swearing

a/n : reader is gender neutral!! also sososososo sorry if they’re ooc :((( i might've went a little much on kiri....

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Hanta first met you because he had just broken his gears to bits and pieces, and desperately needed help to fix it right away. When he entered the support course workshop, no one was there because it was lunch. He grumbled and sighed. That was until he heard your tinkering and drilling noise.

“Hey uh…” He awkwardly steps in, chuckling, making you look up from your work. “C-can you… help me… please?” He hands out his hands, holding the remains of what seemed to be his gear, now only pieces of metal and screws. He chuckled sheepishly, gazing upon your shocked face.

“How did you even…” You muttered in disbelief, eyeing the broken pieces. The response you got was another guilty chuckle. 

From that broken gear, you offered to make a new gear for him. Because of that, he started seeing you more often to test out and discuss how he wanted his new gear to be. From that, he began to catch feelings; from the way you look so focused and engrossed in your work, the way your eyes would glint ambition and adrenaline every time you saw a chance to make an improvement in your work, the way your arms looked covered in sweat, everything.

he started to bring lunch to you, because he knows you like to work through lunch. Even learned how to make those bento boxes for you (the seaweed faces always look jumbled)

he offered to help you fix a gear with his tape once. 

when you laughed at his jokes, he would be IN THE SKIES cause oh my goodness you look so cute, your laugh is so nice :(

got kinda sad cause you finished his gear, but then made excuses like; “Uhm… I think it might need some tweaks” (it doesn’t) and would say he needs readjustments just so that you can measure him again (he likes LOVES your hands touching his arms)

shows off the gear you made to his friends, saying that his gear is a blessing from the gods

found out what your favorite snack was and would always bring it with him every time he drops by

would take out his phone to secretly shazam the songs you listen to while working just so he can get into your music taste and have topics of what to talk about to you 

ORRR when he found out that you liked the same artists, he would gasp audibly and ramble on with you of his and your favorite songs

as time went by, he got bolder and threw lame ass pick up lines to you like; “You’re the screwdriver to my screw” with a shit-eating grin, and you would get caught off guard, “Hanta… what.” 

OH!!!!!!!! At first, when you first got to know him, you would call him by his last name, but that time when you slipped and said his first name, he went all giddy and giggled throughout the discussion, and would sometimes stay silent when you ask him just so that he can hear you call his name again.

Izuku stumbled upon you because you two weren’t really keeping your eyes on the road as you walked through the hallway of classes, and bumped against him as you were sketching your gear on your journal. He too, was muttering nonsense as he was trying to come up with a new power move, flipping and flopping through the pages of that dear notebook of his.

“So if combine Kamui’s move and–” THUD! Oof! 

“Oof! ...Oh my goodness, I’m so very sorry…” He got up, rubbing his head sheepishly as he slowly propped himself up on his feet. Yet, his gaze landed upon your open sketchbook; the angles, corners and curves of the equipment you sketched, and the little notes you would put by the sides of your sketch, he instantly exclaimed, “Are these your sketches?! They are amazing!!” He looked at you with stars in his eyes, pointing to the circular gear you had carefully drawn on the paper. You didn’t even get the chance to say your apologies, let alone answer his question before he gasped in realization. “You’re in the support course!” Which you only chuckled sheepishly and nodded to as a response.

After that one encounter, Izuku would always wave to you whenever you pass by him, and you would wave back. After some time, he would randomly run up to you to ask for suggestions on how he should improve his gears, and every answer you provide him always made him more amazed than before. He adored how you’re so smart, and efficient in providing solutions. He finds himself smiling every time he looked at you pondering upon his questions, he thinks the way you would scratch the edge of your hairline, or pucker your lips slightly every time you were thinking was adorable.

would ask you stuff around the support course; “Why did you decide to choose this course?” , “How do you even figure out what to fix?” so on and so forth. 

would say that he’s going to the workshop to see Hatsume, but in reality he was trying to get a peek of you working

sneaked a picture of you working with your headphones once and panicked about it in his dorm because he thought he had invaded your privacy (but he loves the picture sm)

slowly built up the courage to talk to you while you worked and would sometimes even request a small tweak to his own

gets all red whenever you smile to him and cheers to himself; ‘I talked to her! Yes! Yes!!’ (he in fact only said “oh!” and “okay”)

asks Hatsume what you like and jots it down in his notebook very eagerly

found out your favorite pro hero and gave you small charms of them to you,

like he would go up to you one day and hand you a keychain of the hero shyly; “T-this is… for you…” and when you smiled and thanked him, he went red-er than he already is.

is a huge nerd for your gears, and would always be eager to learn the way you craft them. At one point, he even asked to be taught how to fix one.

you laughed at him because he made a silly mistake that led him to be electrocuted slightly

one time you complimented his hair smelled nice, and ever since then, he never changed his shampoo brand

would sometimes zone out watching you work while smiling sheepishly, giggling quietly to himself

panicked when he overused and broke a gear you had fixed for him and apologized to you, bowing repeatedly

rambles to his mom about you, and she would just listen, nodding while smiling.

Eijiro's encounter with you was a rather strange one. The support course was assigned to observe and monitor the training grounds simulation equipment that day, along with class 1A's training. They were supposed to test out their gears that day, to see if it was durable enough to go through extreme situations like storms or rubbles. Everything seemed to go on smoothly.

You hear a faint crack from the left of where you stood. It seemed that other from testing the gears, they should've also tested the training ground first. In the middle of the raging simulated storm, the angry droplets of rain landing on top of the glass that protected you, an abstracted piece of rock flung towards you. Sharp, solid, and it looked deadly. In panic, your hands desperately hit the glass surrounding you. Your pen rang, attacking the glass. Pang! Pang! Pang! Yet your efforts seemed to be useless against the thick layers of glass.

CRACK! Hands covered your head, curled up, desperate to protect at least an inch of your head. Too afraid to look, you closed your eyes...

It has been a good few seconds, but the impact you had expected didn't graze an inch of your skin, only the slowing down wet drops of rain, the winds swinging and swaying your increasingly soaked hair, and the sound of someone's ragged breath.

"A-...are you alright...?" The red haired boy grinned, his teeth sharp like a shark's.

From that one encounter, you went your way to thank him. You gave him a small shark-shaped trinket you had made; and also some little snacks. You stuck on a bright neon-yellow sticky note; 'Thanks for saving my life :)' and that made him consider of being friends with you. (and said that the shark trinket was really manly)

after finding out what class you were in, he asked how you were holding up from the incident

even asked if you went to recovery girl (you weren't even hurt)

thanked you for the shark trinket, and said that it's very MANLY!!!

he shows off the trinket to his friends and even made it a necklace

started to request gear tweaks to you, and finds himself admiring how you handle heavy tools

despite being in the hero course, and seeing strong people everyday, he finds himself captivated by your strength

he admired the way you would put others before yourself, and would even listen to his requests about his gears

one day, he came back from training and came in to fix the gear he scratched. you gave him a bandage to patch himself up with, and that was what hit him pretty hard

started to copy the way you made him a thank you letter, and got you protein bars (lol)

slowly started to make a habit of spraying some perfume on himself before going into the workshop

one day, he built up the courage of asking you to go to lunch together with him, and when you accepted, he had to hold back a cheer

liked his smile more ever since you said it reminded you of a shark

finds himself teased by his friends because of how often he visits the workshop now

Denki had accidentally fried his brain and gear on a training. He had always thought the fried gears weren't that much of a big deal, the only difference now is that—the gear wouldn't open up, and it clasped his hand inside. It hurt, a lot. Worse, every time he tried to move, it would only tighten. After grumbling from being laughed at by Jirou and Mina, he went to the support course workshop to find anyone or anything to help him. That was when he caught an eye at you!

So over the last thirty minutes, you have been carefully twisting and turning your screwdriver over the screws that were already fixed into his gear. Your movements were slow, fearful, cautious that a sudden movement would only cut his hand off. But not for him, his eyes has only been looking at how your tongue stuck out from the corner of your mouth as you slowly tilted your head to reach the screws on his gear. It made him snicker. Occasionally, you would even ask him stuff to distract him from the pain.

"Did that tighten?" "No" were the two lines that echoed between the two of you. You would make sure he was okay, and he would nod his head or say yes. From that gear mishap, you tested out different tools and spare parts that are able to stand high voltages of electricity, and so, naturally, he was also there often to test those out. He finds himself slowly having faster ba-dump's in his chest every time you would tend to him after he short circuited, or warned him to slow down, or how warm your hands were when you took off the gears from his arms.

would purposely short circuit himself so that you tend to him

sometimes would sneakily charge your phone with his quirk while you weren't looking

says he doesn't understand how to use his gear (it has the exact buttons from his previous ones)

"can you demonstrate it please" "it's more complex now that you've made modifications on it"

found out what food you liked and would just "accidentally have it" while he visits like; "Oh you like sweet bread? Such a coincidence! I have one right now!"

makes nicknames for you like; "wow you're such a tech wizz!" or "robot brain"

gives you his keychains and pins and say that "they remind me of you so might as well give it to you" while shrugging nonchalantly

loves to make you laugh, and would sometimes short circuits on purpose for that

would invite you to lunch with him and his friends, and after you left, he would ask them; "See? I told you all they're amazing"

likes to draw you in his notebook when he's bored of listening to the teacher

got really happy when he knew what songs you like, and started learning them on the guitar

either throws the weirdest pick up lines ever; "you're like the yee to my haw" or the most POETIC line ever; "I like that your hands are as warm as summer on my skin" like huh....??? :D

would clip your loose hair back whenever he's sitting beside you when you're working

dworkism | do not repost!

a/n : yaayy i hope this was goodd, becaauusee this is my first time writing multiple characters so i hope i didn't stray too far from their characters :)

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