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memeadonna · 3 years

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Playing with your Heart

Hello all! This story was inspired by a conversation @fox-knives and @malicealieness had with me about Sero pining after a Y/n who was already in a relationship. Because I am a classical musician by trade, this happened! It was a lot of fun to write and talk about, and I really hope you enjoy!

Sero Hanta has been in love with you since you first met, but you’ve already got a boyfriend. When tensions rise between you and your beloved, he has to play the supportive friend and be there for you - right? So why does he want more?

Warnings: NSFW content, recreational drug use

Here are the links to the pieces of music referenced in the story:

Voi Che Sapete

Als Luise die Briefe

Merry Go Round of Life

When people thought of classical musicians, they most often thought of someone posh and straight-laced, someone snobby with way too much time on their hands who won’t listen to a piece unless the composer was long dead. Sero had learned from experience that this was very far from the truth. He was an anomaly himself – a piano prodigy who took up percussion one day because he was bored, and had been accepted on a full ride to UA – one of the top university music programs in the world. He also gave off the aura of someone laid-back and lazy without a care in the world, and he did smoke a lot of weed. Like a lot of weed. Regardless of that, he was well-liked and well respected among his peers. He had a lot of friends who played a variety of instruments and genres, (and from people in the teaching and music therapy specializations too), and nobody ever treated him as less than once they realized he was a massive dork.

Unlike most universities, UA boasted a mix of genres its students could study. There were classical musicians, jazz musicians, pop, rock, singer-songwriter… you could find just about everything here. And among all of that, Sero had found you.

You were a classical singer with stars in your eyes the first time you had met him, and as you had excitedly introduced yourself and asked him if he was the same Sero Hanta you had seen perform a few years ago, adoration hit him hard in the chest. The way you smiled at him made him want to pick you up and kiss you, and when you spoke about music – about his music – with such joy in your eyes…

He fell hard and he fell fast. You were a classical singer, so while he went to orchestra, you went to choir. You always smiled and waved at him in the halls, and helped one another with your theory homework. Every day he fell a little more in love with you, and every day the two of you got closer and closer.

The only problem was that you had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who happened to be one of Sero’s best friends, and biggest rivals. Bakugou Katsuki was one of the most talented musicians Sero had ever met. He had perfect pitch, and could make absolutely any instrument sing. He didn’t play the piano (or anything with a keyboard), but he played just about everything else. Violin, cello, trumpet, clarinet, piccolo, bass, percussion… people called him the one-man orchestra. He could play more instruments than Jirou Kiyoka, who was one of the university’s best and brightest.

Bakugou wanted desperately to be a conductor, and that’s how he had met you. The two of you were taking the same elective conducting course, and had agreed to practice together. One thing had led to another, and the two of you had been going steady for a while now. Sero loved seeing you happy, but god if it didn’t make him so fucking jealous that it was with another man. What he wouldn’t give to be the one you looked at that way.

He noticed you seemed less happy about six months into your relationship with Bakugou. You and Sero had finished your counterpoint assignments together before one of your classes, and after conducting your smile seemed a little more forced. You didn’t give Sero a hug like you normally would, and as you paused outside of the percussion studio’s door clutching an art song book you looked sort of… lost. He had been practicing his marimba when you had shown up, and he had stopped to smile over at you.

“What’s wrong, Cherubino?” he asked sweetly. He called you that because the first thing he’d ever heard you perform was Voi Che Sapete, and he couldn’t get that performance out of his head. Hearing you asking someone to tell you if the feelings that overwhelmed you were love made him want to pull you off of the stage and into his arms while he kissed you senseless.

He also liked that it meant cherub, but the real reason was that he kept slipping up and trying to call you “Cariño”, but it was easy to change that into “Cherubino”, even though they didn’t sound remotely similar.

“Well,” you blushed and began to fiddle with your hair. God, he wanted to braid it or stick his nose in it while he hugged you. Your shampoo always smelled so good, like marigolds on a sunny day. “The spring showcase is coming up.” You started. He knew about that, of course, it was one of the biggest events of the year for UA University. The crowd was typically at least three thousand strong, and only the best and brightest got to perform. “You know how someone from our conducting class was going to be given the opportunity to conduct the orchestra for one of the pieces?” oh, he knew how much you wanted to do that. As he was about to comfort you for not getting the part, you cut him off. “They chose me.”

“That’s wonderful!” before he could stop himself, he was hoisting you into his arms and spinning you around. He set you down, and noticed that you looked anything but happy. “Cherubino?”

“Katsuki’s mad at me,” you replied, fidgeting a bit. “I knew how much he wanted it. He told me I only got the position because they want him to play the violin solo, and I can’t even get mad at him because he’s right.”

Sero started to curse the blond boy out in Spanish. “How could he say something like that to you?” Sero grit his teeth. “It is not true. He’s just mad that you’re better than him.”

You looked away like you didn’t believe him, and Sero felt the overwhelming urge to sock Bakugou across the face. You forced a smile. “They also asked me to sing at the showcase. Guess what I’m going to be singing?”

“Hmmmm,” he calmed instantly at your seemingly lighter mood, rubbing his chin like he hadn’t already read the email that had gone out. “Voi che sapete?” He asked coyly.

“Certo!” you nodded as you grinned at him, and if you were his he would be kissing you stupid right now. “Do you want to get lunch? Bakugou went off to go talk with Kirishima and apparently, he doesn’t want to be seen with both a viola player and his girlfriend. One’s bad enough.”

“It would be an honour to take you to lunch, mi media naranja,” he packed up his mallets and you hummed Als Luise die Briefe. It was a short piece about a scorned woman burning her lover’s letters, and cursing the fact that her love for him would still burn within her.

“I’ve played that before,” he told you, smiling over at you. “On the piano. Maybe we could jam out sometime.”

Your eyes lit up. “Yeah, sounds like fun!” you beamed at him. “I’d love to. I’ll get us a practice room. Do you have the sheet music?”

“Oi!” you jumped as you heard Bakugou call your name from across the hall. “Let’s go get lunch like you wanted.” He looked between you and Sero, his frown never changing. “We’ve got something to celebrate, don’t we?”

You broke out into a cheery smile. “I asked Sero if he wanted to come with us,” you answered, tugging him out of the percussion room and into the hall with you. “Because I didn’t think you were still going to want to go for lunch since you ran off with Kirishima.”

Bakugou looked between you and Sero. “He’s coming on a date?” he asked skeptically.

“Ah, right,” you smiled over at Sero. “Sorry. Rain check?”

“Rain check,” he agreed. “Have fun, Cherubino.” He waved at you and you trotted back into Bakugou’s arms. He placed a kiss on your lips as the two of you interlocked your fingers. His heart twisted as you looked over at Bakugou with such adoration. Bakugou, however, wasn’t looking at you. He was staring directly at Sero.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You beat out a 4/4 pattern while Sero watched you intently, the metronome in his head ticking the time exactly. You beckoned with your free hand, painting music only you could hear with your fingers, using ten paintbrushes at once to carve out a masterpiece.

You came to the end of the piece and held the final note in your palm. You kept the energy in the room captive for a few moments longer, and when you released it, Sero smiled at you. “Perfectly on time,” he smiled. “I don’t know why you’re so nervous about it.”

You looked up at him. “Just that Katsuki keeps criticizing me whenever I try to practice and he catches me,” you smiled softly. “I get he’s trying to help but it really does the opposite. We start rehearsals with the orchestra soon, and I don’t want to look stupid in front of everyone.”

Sero frowned. “Well, you won’t look stupid at all, Cherubino,” he smiled. “You’ll look graceful and beautiful, and you’ll shape your music so exquisitely.”

You smiled softly at him. “Thanks, Sero,” you smiled.

A few days later, after your first orchestra rehearsal, you slunk back into the percussion room looking absolutely defeated. He had been practicing with his newest kalimba, playing something from a Ghibli movie. You had walked in and he had immediately swept you into a hug.

“What’s wrong, mi media naranja?” he had asked, but he had a feeling he knew the answer as you held him tightly.

You looked up and smiled bravely. “It’s okay,” you answered. “I just – Katsuki was being – he screamed at me during rehearsal and called me incompetent.”

He pulled you into another hug, eyes blazing with fire. He had turned down the ability to be a part of this piece’s performance – he had wanted to see it – but he knew he just had to be. He would swap with someone just for you, so he could be there to support you.

“What is with you always running to him?” You jumped as your boyfriend stood in the doorway. “Own up to it – you came unprepared. You were being incompetent. Grow up and accept it. Do better next time.”

“Hey,” Sero snapped. “As an orchestra player you’re supposed to listen to what she does. You’re not supposed to question the conductor.”

“Shut up, I wasn’t talking to you,” he glared at you. “Show some backbone. Are you really going to let this third-rate-”

“Katsuki,” you snapped. “Leave Sero out of this. You are in the wrong, not me. And you had better apologize.”

“There’s that fire I love,” he pulled you out of Sero’s arms and into his own. “But you’re a damned fool if you think that conducting was anything but half-assed. I’m saying this because I want it to be good, baby. I’m your concertmaster, not to mention your featured soloist, so you should listen to me.”

“No, you should listen to me. Do not yell at me during rehearsal again,” you snapped back, bristling as you brushed past him, minding the violin case as you passed.

Sero was there at every rehearsal. He watched you conduct, watched you command authority from the podium, and shape the music as Bakugou soloed on the violin. Bakugou seemed to be playing within the lines, and jabbered at you to do it his way whenever he could. After every rehearsal you looked tired and defeated, and Sero usually took you to get boba while Kirishima lectured Bakugou about proper rehearsal etiquette. This happened every day for the two weeks leading up to the concert, until the night of the dress rehearsal he snapped. You had already run through your rehearsal of Voi Che Sapete, and Sero could not have been prouder as you sauntered off the stage. God, he loved you. Even watching you from the back of the orchestra, he was blown away from your stage presence. The sweater you wore laced up at the back with a bow resting at the swell of your ass. He might have been staring at it for a little too long, but he didn’t mind having an extra mallet.

As you stepped up to the podium, he admired the way your ripped jeans hugged your figure, and then how you adjusted yourself. You raised your hands, took a breath, and began to conduct. Bakugou stood up from his chair for his solo, and started out a bar early. He kept going, glaring defiantly at you as you continued the piece. Some of the musicians caught up with Bakugou, others stayed with you. You cut the orchestra off. “Let’s start again from bar-”

“If you’re going to cue me wrong,” Bakugou hissed. “You shouldn’t even be on that podium.”

You looked back at him coldly. “I hadn’t cued you yet, Katsuki. If the concert were not tomorrow, I would have hired another soloist. If this were a professional concert, you would have been fired by now,”

“Oh really?” He snapped. “Well, if this were a professional concert, then they wouldn’t have hired a pathetic amateur like you! And you know what, fuck you! We’re done. If you can’t keep our relationship out of this, I don’t want a relationship anymore.” He packed up his violin and left. “I’ll see you all tomorrow at the concert.”

You remained composed, but Sero knew you well enough that he could read the emotions boiling within you like a book. You cleared your throat. “Alright. I would like to go over bars-”

Your composure broke as soon as you and Sero were back at his place. You had planned on spending the night at your boyfriend’s, and he was supposed to be your lift, so you were stranded on campus. At least you had your concert clothes and makeup bag, and of course your best friend here to comfort you. You sobbed into your hands, body shaking as Sero watched you ugly crying. A pizza with your favourite toppings and a bubble tea sat untouched in front of you as he rubbed your back. How were you so beautiful even wailing in anguish and huffing with sobs that shook your whole body?

You threw your arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder as he got close enough, holding him tightly as he stroked your hair. “It’s okay, mi media naranja,” he spoke softly into your hair, savouring the smell of marigolds once more. “Let it out. I’m here.”

He hummed softly to you as you slowly began to stop crying, and then you were just lying pliant in his arms, fingers playing with the beaded necklace he had worn today. “Hey,” he spoke. “Can I get you anything? Water? Doritos? Craigslist ad for a hitman?”

You laughed at that. “Edibles?” you replied.

He hesitated. You had never done any drugs with him before (or at all, as far as he knew), so seeing you blinking up at him asking for his weed he was ashamed to admit he was sort of turned on and excited that you wanted to share some with him. Mostly excited. Yeah.

“Pick something that’ll wear off by morning. I don’t want to do the concert high,” you told him.

He went to his stash of candy and retrieved some of his gummies. He picked out a package of lemon ginger and blueberry acai gummies and walked back over to you. He handed you both packets while he went back to the kitchen to get some beer for you, and when he came back you had eaten one gummy out of each packet.

“¡Pucha! You’re only supposed to have one the first time and see how you feel,” he sat beside you. “Eat some food and we’ll watch a movie.”

You reached for a slice of pizza and cuddled up into him. He put an arm around you as he popped his own gummies, and the two of you ate pizza. “What did I do to deserve such a shitty man?” you sighed. “I – I just don’t know anymore.” You snuggled into his chest, finishing the crust of your pizza and sipping on your boba. You looked up at him, fresh tears brimming your eyes. You wiped at them harshly as you set your drink back down “I’m lucky to have you, Sero. I really am.”

He leaned down and before he could stop himself he was kissing you, one hand coming up to cup your face in his palm. You didn’t pull away, and when he did you were staring at him with wide eyes.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he mentally cursed himself out as you processed the kiss. “I’m sorry mi media naranja. I just-” you reached up and kissed him back, soft and timid and sweet. You tasted like pizza and brown sugar and as he pulled you into his lap everything in the world made sense to him. Your kisses grew more and more desperate, and he responded in kind, running his hands along your thighs as he helped you straddle him, your fingers dipping under the black fabric of his hoodie.

This was so wrong. You were holding his hands now, and each zinging kiss sent electric shocks zooming through his body. This was wrong – you were still grieving your relationship for Christ’s sake – but as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled away just the slightest bit – enough so you were panting against him and he could see your kiss-swollen lips – he was addicted. For him, there was just no going back.

You kept kissing him as you squirmed in his lap, and he wanted to pull away and tell you that if you kept that up, he wasn’t going to be able to hold himself back. As you finally chucked off your pants and underwear, he realized you had absolutely no intention of holding back. No intention of stopping. Your hands found his belt as you went back to kissing him, and he squeezed your ass with one hand while his fingers toyed with your slit. He felt a burst of pride as he felt how wet you were, and as you fished his cock out you spent only a few moments stroking it before you were guiding it inside of you.

He hissed at the sensation, shivering as you wrapped your arms around him and tugged on his hair. You began to move your hips, sighing against him as he deepened your kisses. He hadn’t wanted this to be your first time. He’d always imagined wining and dining you, sweeping you off of your feet and carrying you to bed where he would ravish you completely, but as you mouthed at his neck and held him tightly, nothing had ever felt more perfect.

“God, who could ever stand to lose you?” he asked out loud, running his fingers through your hair. “I think I’d die of sadness.”

He kissed you as you tried to respond, not sure he could stomach a rejection yet. You continued to ride him, still slow and unhurried as you just enjoyed his warmth. The intimacy. He held you like you were all that was precious to him, and as you began to slowly speed up, you felt him bucking into you. He kissed you again to stop himself from saying he loved you out loud, relishing the feeling of your fingers sneaking under his hoodie and shirt to trace along the lines of his body.

Your heavy breathing and quiet noises filled his senses, along with the sweet smell of marigolds and the feeling of euphoria your every touch brought him. “H-Hanta,” you spoke breathlessly against his lips, and his heart skipped a beat. You wrapped your arms around him once again, this time with your skin against his skin. “Hanta please.” You looked up at him with pleading eyes and he pulled you into another kiss, one hand finding your clit while the other sat on your hip, helping you ride him.

Your phone started to ring then, and the two of you ignored it as you lost yourselves. The edibles were kicking in now, leaving everything hazy and distant and a little foggy as you tangled your tongue with his. “Feels so good,” you whined a tiny bit as you said that, and the breathy need in your voice made sparks dance around his abdomen. The phone rang again, and he ignored it still as he trailed the arm up away from your hip and pulled your body flush to his. Chest to chest, he continued to play with you and hold you close and listen to your little sounds.

He let a few of his own slip as he enjoyed you, and if he had had any less composure he would have been drooling. He braced your legs against his body and clumsily rolled the two of you over so he was between your legs now, and you were under him. You pulled your arms out of his hoodie to brace yourself, but after a moment your arms and legs were wrapped around him and he was in absolute heaven. He started mumbling to you in Spanish, confessing every little dirty thing he wanted to do to you. He told you that you were beautiful and talented and that he loved you. He told you that Bakugou was the world’s biggest idiot. He also told you nasty words about how perfectly your cunt squeezed him, and as you tugged his hair he almost wondered if you understood.

“I’m gonna cum soon,” he mumbled. “Are you close?”

You nodded, locking your ankles behind his back as you once more pulled him into a kiss. That message was clear enough, he thought as he returned a hand to your clit, the other bracing himself against the couch as he held back his orgasm with everything he had.

“Mi media naranja,” he cooed, kissing you between his words. “My better half. My other half. My-” he lost his words as he watched you fall apart for him, rendered speechless by the heart-stopping moans you were letting out – so quiet but so filled with passion – and the faces you were making as your back arched and you began to throb around him. A few more strokes and he was joining you in bliss, the feeling warm and tingly as it spread throughout his body. He struggled to breathe for a few seconds as you pulled him into another kiss, deep and desperate and perfect. He lay on you for a few moments, basking in the afterglow as he rested his forehead against yours and breathed against you, giving you the occasional kisses.

Post nut clarity began to settle in as he pulled himself out of you, but as you shyly smiled up at him, he wrapped you in his arms and gave you another kiss. The phone rang a third time, and this time both of you saw the caller ID.

Of course it was him. Bakugou knew just how to ruin the moment.

Sero pressed decline as you stood and stretched, the muscles in your shoulders tense and his spunk sliding down your thighs. He had to physically restrain himself from scooping you up and carrying you to bed (and only partially because he didn’t have nearly the balance he did when he was sober). “I’m gonna have a shower,” you said awkwardly, pointing.

“Okay,” he agreed.

“Then can we cuddle?” you looked so shy as you asked that, wringing your hands. “I feel safe when I’m in your arms.”

His heart was about to win the gold medal for freestyle gymnastics if you kept that cute look on your face. He broke out into one of his trademark grins. “Mind if I join you?” he asked coyly.

You held out your hand to him, and he stood up as he accepted it. He gave you a lingering kiss you leaned into, and then tried to lead you to the bathroom, but as his pants fell down, he turned and faceplanted. Your laugh had never sounded so sweet before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Sero arrived about an hour before the concert started. You were dressed in a set of tails with your makeup done (he had watched you do it in amazement, and had just about asked you to do eyeliner on him), and as you got adjusted and warmed up (both vocally and physically), he was once again mesmerised.

You chatted with some of the other classical singers as you waited for the orchestra to arrive, and as Sero left to go warm up he found himself so incredibly reluctant to do so. He had woken up with you in his arms, and if he had to go a day without that ever again, he was sure he was going to die.

Bakugou arrived his usual thirty minutes before the concert, and you ignored him as you and the main conductor went over notes from the previous rehearsal. The hotheaded blond sauntered up to you and waited to be noticed, and he only grew more and more irritated as you ignored him. The conductor left you alone and you finally turned to face Bakugou.

“Hey,” he spoke gruffly. “You didn’t answer any of my calls.”

“I didn’t have a reason to,” you replied, calm and collected.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “Look, you were right. I’ve been an asshole. I’ve been in the wrong, and I’m sorry. Now come here and give me a hug.” He opened his arms for you.

“No,” you answered flatly.

“What do you mean no?” Bakugou snapped.

“As for your solo, you will play it the way I want you to. I am the conductor. As for our relationship, you made it clear we no longer have one, which based on the way that you’ve been acting lately sounds like the best option to me,” you answered. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a show to conduct.”

“That’s it?” Bakugou hissed. “You’re just going to walk away from us like that?”

“You were the one who walked away,” you smiled over at him. “But that doesn’t matter anymore. Like you said, if you can’t keep our relationship out of this, I don’t want a relationship at all.” You looked so damned powerful in your tails as you faced the blond down. Did he even know those were his own words? “Break a leg, Bakugou.” Sero felt his heart swell with pride.

The concert started and Sero was absolutely transfixed as you stepped up to the podium. You commanded such authority in front of the crowd, deadly calm and ready to emote. It was no small wonder why you had been chosen to conduct this piece – a switch had been flipped in you, and you carried yourself like a conductor.

Bakugou waited patiently for his cue. When you made eye contact and gave it to him you didn’t linger. He played the solo exactly the way you wanted it, fingers dancing across his fret board and managing to make the piece almost melancholy. You played with that emotion, bringing out certain sections to highlight Bakugou’s playing. Sero was under your spell as he watched you move, and he smiled as he realized this was where you belonged. You were in your element without a doubt, and he was so, so proud of you.

As the piece finished you once more held all of the energy in the room within yourself, and only once you relaxed did thunderous applause fill the hall. You took your bow with a smile, and if Sero didn’t have to play the next piece he would have chased you down backstage and kissed you stupid.

Despite loving the music, he couldn’t wait to be done. Just a few mote pieces until the concert ended, and next up was you. Your character was totally different as you stepped out, no longer that powerful conductor he had seen before. Now you were Cherubino, the young man curious about love. The music swelled as you described the sensations flowing through you, and Sero wanted to call out “Yes!” as you asked if they were love.

You finished the piece with a smile, and the crowd once more erupted into applause.

Now Sero definitely needed to find you backstage. You took your bow and made your exit, and the next time he saw you, you were receiving flowers as a thank you for being a soloist. Bakugou held his own bouquet awkwardly in one arm, his violin in the other hand, but Sero could not have cared less about him as he abandoned his mallets to meet you backstage. “You were amazing, Cariño!” he declared, picking you up and spinning you around. He set you down and the two of you hugged.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” you smiled at him and pulled away. Bakugou glared at him over your shoulder, and he grinned as he flipped the blond off behind your back. “So, are you hungry?” you asked sweetly, and the sweet scent of marigolds surrounded him once more. Your bouquet was made up of them, and when you got home he was going to insist you press them. You leaned in close and whispered “We can skip out on the cast party and go right to bed if you want.”

Sero had to physically stop himself from proposing on the spot.

#sero hanta x reader #sero hanta #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #violinist bakugou #bnha #mha #breakup #drug use #sero smut #memeadonna

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