kcandyliciouss

Latest Posts by kcandyliciouss

Light in the dark

Synopsis: you never really had friends until Hinata showed up. But getting scared of the unfamiliar warmth you push him away.

Cw: nb!reader (however reader is described a nos 'pretty'), reader is dense, mutual pining but it might seem one-sided, misunderstanding, strangers to friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, Hinata might be a bit ooc at the end.

Wc: 2.3k

Not beta read!

You were a genius, excelling effortlessly in every subject, acing all your exams with ease, answering every question correctly, and turning in your homework well before deadlines.

That was initially why he asked you to tutor him (well it might have been because of his crush on you as well). You were Hinata’s classmate— pretty, a bit quieter than most, and hella smart. So he was understandably a bit nervous when he walked up to your desk. His cheeks flushed as he cleared his throat and asked if you could help him understand some of the material for the upcoming exam. When you looked up at him and gave a brief, curt nod his heart pounded a little faster.

That was the beginning of your study sessions. Twice a week, after school or during free periods, you met up at the quiet corner of the library and you would help him with his studies.

Now, of course Hinata was grateful for your help, but he found it surprisingly hard to concentrate on the lessons rather than on your face—your calm expression, the way your eyes focused intently on the book or notes in front of you. But after you gave him a good smack on the back of his head for not paying attention, he tried much harder to actually listen to your explanations.

As the weeks went by, your study sessions became a regular part of Hinata’s routine. He started to look forward to them—not just because he was eager to talk to you more, but because he wanted to actually improve his grades and make you proud, impress you. You were patient— well, mostly patient—explaining concepts in a way that made even the most confusing topics seem manageable. Hinata found himself enjoying your company a lot. He started noticing how your eyes lit up when you finally saw him understand something new. How your voice softened when you explained a tricky problem. And despite his initial nervousness, Hinata found himself relaxing around you more and more. He even started sitting next to you during lunch. You didn’t talk much, but he didn’t mind filling the silence himself. Sometimes he’d ramble about volleyball, trying to share his passion, maybe impress you with all his tricks. He even invited you to come see his practice matches. You always nodded along and if he got really lucky you would smile at a joke he cracked.

So, It was safe to say that Hinata considered you a friends.And deep down, he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you thought of him as more than just a student needing help

One afternoon, after a particularly long session on calculus, Hinata packed up his things slowly, rubbing the back of his head where you had given him a gentle but firm slap earlier.

“Thanks for helping me,” he grinned, “I really appreciate it.”

You looked up from your notes and offered a small, rare smile. “No problem. Just don’t forget the formulas. I’m going to give you a quiz next week”.

Hinata chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah… I’ll try my best.”, he hesitated again before speaking.

“Hey… um… do you wanna grab some snacks or something? My treat!”

You blinked a few times, your face expressionless, before responding,

“We just ate though.”

Hinata’s face fell slightly, but he quickly recovered with a sheepish smile. “Oh… right. Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

For the smartest person in the library, you were astonishingly dense when it came to certain social cues or obvious hints. And sure, Hinata had encountered very dense people before—he saw Kageyama every day, after all. And he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed himself. But your level of obliviousness completely baffled him.

“Y’know, If I could choose anyone to be my teacher forever, it’d be you. You’re so cool and smart and awesome!” he says, trying to fill the awkward silence you didn’t seem to notice. He gestures animatedly, trying to make his words feel natural, but there's a hint of nervousness behind his enthusiasm. His eyes sparkle with admiration, though he remains blissfully unaware of the subtle reaction—or lack thereof—from his tutor.

“Thank you but I sincerely hope that you won’t be needing a tutor for that long.” You simply shrugged.

Now Hinata was as stubborn as he was determined, and that meant he wasn’t giving up on trying to ask you out. You hadn’t exactly rejected him, so he still had a chance, right?

The next day, Hinata arrived a little later than usual, a bright smile stretched across his face, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. He calls out your name as he spots you at your usual table, earning a threatening look from the librarian. He completely ignores her, his steps were light and eager as he made his way toward your usual table. He fidgeted slightly with his sleeve, trying to contain his excitement.

You greet him as he sits down next to you.

“Hi! Sorry I’m a bit late. Also did you hear there’s a new movie coming out this weekend? I happen to have two tickets for it!” He says all in one breath, almost radiating in excitement. His voice was loud enough to turn a few heads, but he paid no mind.

You gave him a smile, barely noticeable, “I see. I hope you have fun with the friend you’re going with.”

Hinata blinked several times in confusion, tilting his head slightly as if trying to process what you just said.

“Friend? Wha- No, I meant— Ah, nevermind…”

He hesitated for a moment before realizing it was too late; you had already opened your textbooks and turned your attention back to studying, leaving Hinata sitting there with a slightly awkward expression.

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a soft twilight over the school grounds. The air grew cooler as you both stepped outside, your footsteps echoing softly on the pavement..Your study session had stretched out for longer than usual and it was getting dark already. Hinata looked up at the sky before glancing at you with a soft smile.

“The moon is really beautiful today, huh?” he said softly, trying to sound casual. He mentally cringed at how cheesy it sounded but hoped maybe you’d finally catch on.

You looked up as well, tilting your head slightly. After a moment of silence, you shrugged lightly, “Seems the same as always to me.”

“Ahaha.. yeah, I guess you’re right..Hey, aren’t you cold? Let me give you my jersey!”

“No need, I have a jacket in my bag.” You shook your head gently, reaching into your bag to pull out your jacket.

Hinata sighed deeply, a faint frown crossing his face as he looked down at his shoes. His shoulders sagged just slightly. He had been trying so hard all day to get your attention, to find some way to make you see how much he liked you.

Maybe… maybe you just weren’t interested after all.

He forced a bright smile again and nodded cheerfully before waving at you as you parted ways.

That was the moment he started growing distant. The change was subtle at first, almost easy to overlook..

As you entered the classroom, you glanced around, expecting to hear Hinata’s voice call out your name while he cheerfully waved as usual, but he was already seated at his desk, head down, eyes focused on his notebook.

During lunch, the lively chatter and shared jokes that once filled your table were replaced by silence, before he stopped sitting next to you at the empty cafeteria table altogether.

When break time came, you instinctively reached for your wallet and looked toward the vending machine, expecting him to offer to buy you juice like he always did. But he didn’t. Instead, he simply stayed in his seat, fixed on his phone or talking to his other classmates.

The most noticeable shift was in your study sessions. Once a regular routine where Hinata eagerly arrived early, now was missing. The last few times, he was nowhere to be seen when you arrived.

The first time it happened you reached out with a “where are you?” message to which he responded with Volleyball practice is taking longer today, won’t make it today. Sorry :( ”.

Hinata always made an effort to be there; that was unusual.

A few days later, another message appeared:

“Can’t come today.” It was brief, almost dismissive.

And then it turned into no response to your texts at all. No explanations. You stared at your phone, feeling a mix of worry and confusion. Have you done something wrong? Was he avoiding you? You sighed softly, glancing at the empty chair across from you in the study corner.

You were never good at expressing your feelings. You were always quiet, closed off, cold, never really speaking your mind. It took a long time for you to open up to someone, and most people didn’t have the patience for that. That’s why you didn’t really have friends. Most days, you moved through school like a ghost in the background. You had a few acquaintances—people who said hi in passing or shared notes—but no one you could really call a friend. Not someone you could confide in or lean on when things got tough.

That was until Hinata appeared. Bright-eyed, eager to talk, quick to smile—even when others might have ignored him. He didn’t seem to mind your quietness; instead, he seemed to see past it. He approached you without hesitation, always trying to include you in conversations or activities. His genuine kindness was something you weren’t used to, and at first, it made you uncomfortable—like an unfamiliar warmth that you didn’t quite know how to handle.

You still struggled to find the right words sometimes. When classmates asked about your weekend or how you felt about a test, you’d respond with a quiet shrug or a simple nod. But Hinata always listened patiently, never rushing you.

it took time for you to trust him with even small things. Yet somehow, he never pushed too hard or made you feel pressured. Somehow, you grew to like him.

He became more than just someone who sat beside you in class or helped with homework; he became the reason why maybe someday, opening up wouldn’t be so terrifying after all.

Except now he was gone. Did he grow tired of you just like everyone else did? You feared everything would go back to how it was before—living in the shadows, avoiding conversations, hiding behind silence because it was easier than risking rejection or pain.

You took a deep breath and tried to gather your thoughts. Inside, you battled conflicting feelings—fear of losing him forever and hope that somehow, things could be fixed. You wanted to understand why he left—and if there was any chance to bring him back.

You stood up from your seat at the library and headed straight to the gym.

Confrontation was never your strongest quality, but you couldn’t risk losing the only person who cared for you.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you pushed open the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. Tears started dwelling in your eyes, you tried blinking them away. Your mind was racing, trying to figure out what went wrong, trying to remember what you could have said to upset him. Did you push him away without meaning to? Did you do something that offended him?

You didn’t realize that you were already walking up to the gym until the door swung open, causing you to snap out of your thoughts.

Hinata's eyes met yours as his smile faltered. The silence stretched between you two before he finally spoke, his voice quiet,

“Why—why are you here?”

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words.

“Because I don’t want to lose you.”

There was another long pause of silence but you forced yourself to continue,

“Why did you leave me…?” Your voice trembled slightly, but your gaze stayed steady. This really wasn’t easy for you—far from it—yet this moment felt necessary.

Hinata looked away for a second, his jaw tightening as he struggled with his own feelings. The air between you was thick. He looked back at you, his expression guilty.

“I… I thought I was bothering you,” he admitted softly, his voice trembling. “I thought you didn’t want me near you anymore. So I… I left because I didn’t want to be a burden.”

His eyes searched yours, seeking some sign of understanding.

You took a step closer, your voice gentle,

“I just… I didn’t know how to tell you how much you mean to me. And I was scared of losing you—so scared that I might have pushed you away without even realizing it.”

You paused, feeling the weight of everything you needed to say. “Please don’t think I don’t care. Because I do—more than anything.”

Hinata took a slow, hesitant step forward, his eyes fixed on yours.

“I never wanted to hurt you. I just… I was scared too. Scared of losing what we had, scared of being too much.” His voice cracked slightly.

You both stood there for a moment longer, holding onto each other’s gaze.

Then, almost instinctively, you both spoke at the same time— “I’m sorry.”

Hinata’s expression mirrored your shock. For a moment, neither of you moved.

Suddenly, Hinata’s face broke into a soft, nervous smile. Without thinking, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you in a gentle hug. You felt his warmth and hesitated for just a second before returning the embrace.

He let out a surprised chuckle, a sound that was both nervous and relieved. “Wow,” he whispered softly into your hair. “Guess we’re both sorry… maybe that’s a good place to start.”

A/n: Yes the name is a reference to Luxiem 🤭

Please do not repost or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated though!

Deviders are by @/thecutestgrotto !!

YES PLEASEEEEEE

we should SOOO bring back obey me like I miss the fandom 🥀

Right and why is he in every episode too like omg you're not the main character

watching My hero acadamia season 5- why are they making me gaf about Endeavor ? 🤨

akaashi headcanons cus he can’t get out of my head 😵‍💫

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi has dimples.

i don’t mean the small, barely visible ones. i mean the deep, majestic ones. even if he so much as lifts the corner of his mouth, a dimple shows up right in the middle of his cheek. he’s a little self-conscious about them though… :(

“whaddya mean you don’t like ‘em?” you pout, poking where they used to be.

“i dunno… i guess they always made me stand out,” he mumbles.

“they’re beautiful, keiji,” you say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “make you you. they’re like the extra flare your pretty smile needs!”

after that, he’s smiled wider and covered his face less.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi loooooooves the nicknames you give him.

kei, eiji, jiji, cash money — he loves them all maybe not the last one, even the ones he doesn’t quite understand at first.

“kaji? that’s a new one,” he says, tilting his head to the side as he pokes a straw through his milk box.

“i just thought of it!” you exclaim, taking a sip from yours.

“how’d you think of it?”

“keiji and akaashi; mix and tadaaa! — kaji! ahh i’m so smart!”

he only loves it because he considers it you forever calling him yours with each new name. he’ll never let anyone else call him what you do, though.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi listens to clairo…

please put down the pitchfork and hear me out!!! he GENUINELY listens to clairo because he loves her vibe, lyrics, and overall style. he absolutely hates those “matcha loving, clairo listening, #socal” boys he sees on social media and would rather die than be associated with them. so, when you notice him listening to clairo for the first time, he gets a little scared.

“whatcha listening to, keiji?” you ask. he doesn’t budge, earphones still stuck in his ears. out of curiosity, you pick up his phone to see this hypnotic artist. keiji nearly has a heart attack from fear, eyes wide and face gone pale. once you see it’s clairo, you have a ton of questions on your mind.

“you listen to—”

“i’m not one of them please please don’t call me one of those things i am not one of them,” he rambles, clinging to your shirt. whatever question he answered definitely wasn’t on your mind, but his reaction only makes you giggle.

“i was gonna ask what your favorite song is, silly,” you say. he responds with a timid “oh,” removing one earpiece and giving it to you. he also shows you pictures of the albums he has at home that he keeps tucked away in his closet.

(his fav is partridge esp the live version 💆‍♀️)

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi always drinks a cup of tea every single night.

he loves how it warms his body and helps put his soul at ease. each night, he’ll set out his mug, boil some water, and place the teabag in with a small yawn. he def puts a couple drops of honey just for that extra flavor. he’ll slurp and sigh with much content, cozying himself up in his comfy pajamas. sometimes, he’ll read a couple chapters of a book while he drinks, pushing his glasses up after every sip.

even at little cafe’s, a nice cup of tea is his go-to! doesn’t seem like much of a coffee man tbh. even on nights where he as to cram, he refuses those coffee beans and heads straight for the tea bags.

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ keiji akaashi is fluent in animal crossing.

i think once he started playing, he thought how they talk is so cute and he wanted to try it, too! not just that, but it’s his own secret language that he influenced onto you. he’d probably randomly speak it just to mess with people hehe.

“mimwmrmemwr? (you wanna eat after this?)” he asks you. his friends are a little confused, staring at him like he’s some alien.

“well, if you want to,” you reply. they look at you even weirder, absolutely flabbergasted.

“mmimrmwemrrm? (fast food or restaurant?)”

“i’m feelingggg sit down and eat.”

“mwmrmi! mwmrmem? (same! sushi okay?)”

“yes, sounds perfect!”

mouths agape, they look at each other with wide eyes and back to you.

“am i high or are they high??”

“you guys can come with if you want,” you shrugged, completely unfazed.

“where, your home planet???”

This.

Since we're all gonna die, there is one more secret I feel I have to share with you-

I did not care for Dabi.

Soft spot

Synopsis:

You wake up in the library with Tsukishima's jacket draped over you. You realize maybe he doesn't hate you as much as you thought he did.

Cw: gn!reader, college au, academic rivals to more(?), tsukishima is kind of a tsundere, silly banter

Wc: 0.8k

Not beta read!

Tsukushima Kei was a jerk, you knew that. You knew that from the moment you had met him.

At first he didn’t pay any mind to you. Hell, he probably didn’t even know you existed. That was until he saw your name above his on the results board.

Two points. You had passed him by two points— and that’s when he started noticing you.

As you hurriedly shuffled through your bag for your notebook, your phone slipped from your grasp and clattered loudly onto the floor.

A few heads turned, and you quickly bent down to retrieve it. Just as you did, a sharp voice sneered behind you.

“Did you drop your brain along with that?”

He leaned slightly over his desk, eyes glinting with amusement as he pointed at the red 87/100 inked on the corner of your paper on your desk. “Here I thought I had competition.”

At first, you genuinely thought he hated you—his snarky comments and dismissive attitude made that pretty clear. But after a few similar encounters, you started to realize that he saw this as a game in which he wanted to prove he was better than you. Once you figured that out you started treating it like a game. And soon you learnt that irritating him was incredibly fun.

Now, you and Tsukishima weren’t friends—far from it—but you weren’t enemies either. You could even have a decent chat once in a while (though not without some banter). Still, being in the same course meant constant competition. As exhausting as it was sometimes, it also kept you motivated to study harder. If it weren’t for this rivalry you would be slacking off a lot more. But you didn’t. Not when he made sure to drop a snarky comment whenever you got a question wrong; in return, whenever you scored higher than him on an exam or assignment, you'd make sure to rub it in his face just as much.

So yes, Tsukishima was a jerk. He was dry, sarcastic, and lacked any redeeming qualities. He’d slam the door right in front of your face if you were walking behind him, he would purposefully bump his shoulder into yours in the hallway just to annoy you. Which is why it was a complete surprise when you woke up in the library with a jacket draped over your shoulders. A jacket that definitely wasn’t yours.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Turning your head slightly, you saw Tsukishima sitting on your left, focused on some assignment.

Huh. That was odd. He only sat next to you if the library was full.

Feeling your confused gaze on him, his usual cold eyes met yours, his indifference unchanged.

“You’re awake,” he stated flatly before turning back to his work. “If you keep dozing off instead of actually studying, you won’t even have a chance of passing me on this assignment.” His eyes never left his notebook, but a smirk crept onto his face as he added, “Not that you ever had one to begin with. But keep dozing like that, and you'll definitely fail.”

You blinked a few times. Still feeling a bit drowsy but amused, you chuckled softly and shot him a smirk of your own, tilting your head slightly.

“Is the great Tsukishima worried about me falling behind? How sweet of you.”

He always liked teasing you. You always reacted to his taunts and that only fed his already humongous ego. But honestly? You liked teasing Tsukishima just as much.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” you said with a playful grin. “I’m perfectly capable of beating you on this assignment. Actually, that’s why I was napping—I don’t even need to do the assignment to pass you. I’m just that good, y’know.” You stretched your arms lazily and grinned wider.

Tsukishima just snorted, “Right.”

It was when the jack slipped from your shoulders as you stretched you remembered about it.

“Even made sure I wasn’t cold. Truly a gentleman, Tsuki!” You picked it up with a giggle and handed it back to him.

He took it back with a scoff “Oh please,” he dismissed, "you were shaking like a leaf on a tree. It was impossible to concentrate with the sound of your teeth chattering. And don’t call me that.”

"Aww. Don’t tell me your cold heart was warmed up by little ol’ me. "

Tsukishima simply raised an eyebrow at your cheeky smile, clearly annoyed.

"Don’t flatter yourself," he drawled in his usual condescending tone, "you were simply an inconvenience, nothing more."

You quietly smile to yourself, knowing he didn’t really mean it. Because if he did, he’d be sitting anywhere else in the empty library, not right next to you.

Maybe Tsukishima Kei wasn’t such a jerk after all.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated though!

Deviders are by @/thecutestgrotto !!

oh my goshh !! thank u so much for writing my req for hitoshi !!

it’s so good and not too angsty at all, i hope you write a part 2 with whatever you have in mind that’s amazing, plus i love how long & detailed the fic is

he’s not the only one who will be sleeping well tonight, again, tysm! ッ

hitoshi wakes up to see you making breakfast, so he takes his chance and tries to talk to you, pt 2 of this

when hitoshi woke up from his slumber, he felt well-rested, as if he had the best sleep of his life. he hadn’t yet furnished his room, and he sighed once he saw a practically empty room beside a desk and his bed. he rolled around in his warm and cozy bed, curling up into himself, wishing the warmth wasn’t from his body heat but from yours.

a fist hit his door multiple times, causing him to grunt and slowly get out of bed.

he heard a voice quietly scold, “dude, why’d you knock? he could be sleeping, we should’ve waited!”

then a louder voice said, “bro, he doesn’t know what’s going on, so i gotta tell him!”

hitoshi trudged to the door and unlocked it, seeing an excited kaminari and a guilty-looking kirishima behind him. they were both in their pajamas still, but what could they possibly want? it was the weekend, after all.

he stood tall over them, with an unpleasant look on his face, though he wasn’t necessarily upset. he stared right into kaminari’s eyes, expecting him to say something, as he was closer to hitoshi physically.

“hey, shinso! we’re making breakfast downstairs, do you wanna join?” kaminari loudly asked, smiling widely at him.

hitoshi paused then shrugged, “sure, why not?”

he opened his closet and put on the pair of slippers given to him, which the two boys were similarly wearing as well. he walked back to the boys, who led him downstairs. some small talk occurred, but were normally replied with short answers, as hitoshi normally didn’t like to talk much in the morning.

when all three of the boys came downstairs, hitoshi’s eyes immediately landed on you cooking with bakugo. bakugo didn’t seem to be talking to you as much, but hitoshi still frowned as he walked closer to you, sitting at a nearby table. even as other students came up to him, asking if he wanted to do anything before the school week started, his eyes kept wandering back to you.

as you skillfully flipped pancakes and made the batter for waffles, also cutting up fruits and taking out syrup for toppings, you turned your head to see shinso looking right at you with tired eyes. you paused stirring the batter for the waffles and stared back at him, seeing his baggy, black long-sleeve shirt and purple sweatpants. he looked at you up and down, observing your outfit. you were wearing an oversized purple t-shirt that looked too cute on you and black sweatpants, topped off with the class slippers that most of you were wearing.

hitoshi softly smiled. the two of you were unintentionally matching outfits with his colors. it made him feel proud in a way, but he didn’t mention it.

once bakugo tapped you on the shoulder, you blushed and turned away from hitoshi’s eyes. the way he looked at you up and down made you nervous, though he was most likely checking out your outfit. the two of you were matching, but you didn’t mention it until a voice shouted.

sero’s voice boomed, “woah, shinso, y/n, are you guys matching?”

some voices became quieter at the question, and your classmates kept taking turns, looking at both of your outfits back and forth.

ochaco gasped, “you are! aw, that’s pretty cute!”

“hey, you guys are matching!” kaminari realized, then had a mischievous glint in his eyes. he sat down next to shinso and smirked, “shinsoooo…”

his eyes widened and he shook his head, turning it away from kaminari so he wouldn’t see the grin on his face. god, he couldn’t let him know that he’s been crushing on you for so long. he’d be seen as a weirdo again!

suddenly, bakugo grumbled, “breakfast is ready.”

most of the students, including kaminari, ran toward the kitchen islands to grab their food right away. people were shoving each other, causing hitoshi’s eyes to widen. he didn’t know your class was this chaotic, but he smiled at the thought. you were all like family.

you and hitoshi stayed behind, however. you were cutting up more strawberries for toppings, and hitoshi just didn’t know if he should go up and get food when everyone was wreaking havoc.

after minutes passed, many students picked up their first serving and were already sat down, hitoshi finally stood up, and you were already picking out your food. he took a deep breath in. he wanted to talk to you.

he grabbed a plate, fork, and knife, then picked up a large waffle, sprayed some whipped cream on it, dropped a few raspberries and blueberries on it, then grabbed some scrambled eggs, and finally a napkin.

a familiar, soft voice rang in his ears, “how did you sleep, shinso?”

his eyes widened and his heart beat fast, he almost froze in his place. he spoke, “oh, i slept well. thank you for asking.” he paused, not knowing what to say but wanting the conversation to continue. you looked nervous. “the beds here are comfortable, but i haven’t quite renovated my room yet.”

you nodded and began walking to a table, nodding for him to follow you. he did as you gestured, and you replied, “that’s understandable, you only got here late at night, so don’t stress about it. you’ll have plenty of time to move in your furniture. i haven’t yet fully furnished my room, but i have a bed, some posters, and a tv that i also play some video games on.” you scratched your neck during the last sentence, feeling a bit nervous telling someone all that so early.

he tried to hide the smile on his face, “oh, really? i play video games too, when i have free time, of course. i mostly play fortnite though.”

you beamed, “oh, i have fortnite too! we should play sometime.”

he nodded, then mentioned, “it’s a little weird how we matched, isn’t it?”

“a little, i guess. promise i wasn’t trying to copy you, i just wanted to wear it.” you laughed it off.

the conversation died down, and the two of you ate your food in silence. it was a comfortable silence, however, one that neither of you had often felt with strangers.

once he finished, he wiped his mouth and complimented, “that was really good. do you often cook for the class like this?”

he was nearly shaking, tapping his foot on the ground, being nervous. he wasn’t cold, just excited to be around someone he’s liked for so long. hopefully, with all these questions and compliments, the two of you would become closer.

“oh, thank you! but no, normally we don’t cook at all besides for special occasions. the cafeteria offers breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the school, but bakugo became tired of the breakfast they handed out, and i thought it would be a good idea if we made breakfast because you’re new.” your eyes widened, and you shrunk into yourself, feeling nervous. “i— oh, that was kinda mean, i’m sorry— you’re new to our class, but not to the school— we just wanted to make a good first impression—“

you cut yourself off and blushed in embarrassment. you probably just fumbled right then and there.

hitoshi grinned at your flustered state and chuckled, “don’t worry about it, l/n, the food was amazing. it was nice of you to do something like that.”

you softly smiled in appreciation, and he held his hand out to your plate, silently asking if you were done. you thanked him, and he nodded, grabbing both of your plates and utensils to the sink. he washed them easily, then dried his hands off and walked back to you.

but you were caught in a daze. he was such a gentleman, and you hardly even knew him!

there was something different about him.

yes i decided to make the reader n hitoshi both play fortnite. so what?? they’re both nerds!! anyway might make this a series if people want me to bc i don’t want to end it off here. forgot to post last night so here

literally came here just to say how aesthetic your blog is 💋💋

AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

i'm so done with seeing and finding purely smut fics, what happened to yearning?? what happened to developing plots??character development??fluff?? angst?? hurt/comfort?? what happened to those monologues of characters that hurt your heart and made you go insane AGH

🖤💛🧻Sero Appreciation Post 🧻💛🖤

That is all. Have a good day.

Make his day, buy a bouquet!

Synopsis:

Florist!Izuku x reader

You tell Izuku that you plan to confess to your crush with a bouquet. He tries to keep it together but can't help but wonder who the lucky guy is. Later, when he finds you sitting alone on a bench in the pouring rain, tears streaming down your face, he's ready to throw hands.

Cw: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, jealousy, Izuku is oblivious, reader kinda plays with his feelings(?), incredibly cheesy

Wc: 1.8k

Not beta read!!

The sun shone through the sheer panels while Izuku was cutting the stems of the fresh dahlias he had ordered the day before. He glanced at the clock: he still had a few minutes more before he had to open the shop. Once he was done, he set the pink beauties aside and flipped over the “closed” sign to “open”.

It was only nine in the morning so Izuku wasn’t expecting any customers. Most of the time people came by in the evening, ordering an arrangement for the next day or buying a quick bouquet of roses for a dinner date and whatnot. With that in mind he allowed himself to sink into this chair behind the counter; a mug of green tea in one hand and a pencil in the other. He might as well just work on a new arrangement design while he’s waiting for customers.

Just as his pencil starts grazing the paper, the bell above the door lets out a soft chime as a head pokes through the door.

Izuku's eyes met yours, his eyebrows raised. His surprised expression was replaced with a big smile in an instant.

“Why hello, my favourite customer,” He stood up and leaned on the counter with a grin stretching across his face.

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“So…what brings you here so early? I just opened the shop a few minutes ago.”

He supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised considering you’d been coming by pretty often since you’d first met.

Although you had met only a few months ago, you and Izuku had become close friends. You had stumbled upon his flower shop when it had just opened and happened to be his first ever customer. You were really sweet, listening to him ramble while he was preparing your bouquet, even offering to help when the shop was understaffed. The way you smiled at him sweetly and shook your head whenever he apologized for talking too much, or the way you’d prop your chin up against the palm of your hand and asked about the meaning of the flowers he was putting together— it just made him feel all gushy and flustered.

Despite working with flowers every day, Izuku had discovered that you were even more pleasing to look at than any of the flowers that were sitting pretty on the shelves.

He had never met anyone who was so attentive towards him, so patient with him. He found himself smiling every time you came by, eagerly waiting for the next time he’d get to chat with you.

You snort at the nickname and place your hands on the counter, leaning in a bit. “Today will be a great day, ‘Zuku. Today I'm going to confess to the guy I like!”

Izuku’s smile falters for a second and you don’t miss the way the light in his eyes dims.

“Oh.”

He quickly clears his throat and tries to maintain the cheerful demeanor he had just a second ago.

“Right! Right, uh..Of course. And I’m guessing you want to get him a bouquet? That’s really nice..I uh..Yeah, I can do that.”

He looks at the small smile plastered across your face— you seemed happy, you’d been his friend for a while so he should be happy for you, should be excited.

He clears his throat again, “So…Who’s the lucky guy? I don’t remember you mentioning anybody to me,” he asked, trying his best not to sound upset.

“Oh well, I met him a few months ago. He’s really sweet, and hella smart too,” you giggled, a faint blush on your cheeks.

Izuku felt his heart sink even further.

He gave a small nod and a forced smile, he was happy for you, really he was…

“ooh…he sounds nice.”

He looked up from the flowers he had already started picking out to meet your eyes again and quickly looked back down.

“Okay well, for the arrangement I think we start off with some white carnations, they uh..they are often associated with pure love and devotion.” he cleared his throat for what seemed like the fifth time. “Do you perhaps know what his favourite flower is?”

You perk up slightly, “lisianthuses” you cherp immediately.

Another pang of jealousy shot through him as he grabbed the requested flowers. Of course you knew the guy's favourite flowers off the top of your head.

“Lisianthuses…gratitude, appreciation, and lasting bonds. Also considered a symbol of rising above challenges,” he mutters, turning to the shelf behind him.

“Well, he has good taste. I like those too.”

He can’t help the bitter smile that forms on his face as you happily talk about your soon-to-be boyfriend.

“And they’ll fit nicely into the arrangement.” He adds, not daring to look up from the flowers he was working on.

You look through all the flower options before suggesting “I was thinking you could add some baby’s breath too. They represent innocence and purity, right?”

Izuku turned around to look at you with surprise,

“...You remember?”

“‘Course I remember. You think I don’t listen when you talk?” You tilted your head with a small smile.

He chuckled a bit, a smile of his own forming on his face, he shook his head, “I mean, you’re a great listener, but I tend to go on so much about the flowers that I didn’t know if you’d remember,” He grabbed a small handful of the white, bell shaped flowers, adding them into the arrangement carefully, setting them in the middle of the carnations, “but yeah, you’re right they symbolize purity and innocence…”

He finally looked up to meet your eyes.

“You’ll have to tell me how it goes…okay?” He tried his best to keep a cheerful tone.

You quickly nodded with a cheeky smile, “Trust me, you’ll be the first to know.”

Forcing another smile, he looked back at the bouquet, “Good.”

He set the vase down on the counter in front of you before he began wrapping it up in thin white crepe paper, trying his best to ignore the small ache in his heart knowing it was a gift for some other guy, “You know,” he said quietly, “whoever he is, he’s really lucky to have you” he looked you in the eyes and for a moment everything went still.

“There…all done.” He tied the ends of the paper with a pink ribbon before setting it down in front of you.

A small wave of heat passed over your face at his words, your lips curving into a small smile as you looked down at the finished bouquet of flowers, “I’m the lucky one…he’s incredible.” you said, not braking eye contact.

With a quiet huff, Izuku looked away to check you out.

It was now four in the afternoon, and there was rain coming down in relentless sheets. Luckily, Izuku had grabbed his umbrella on the way out.

His shift was over, and all he wanted was to go home, crawl into bed, and maybe cry himself to sleep. Was he being overly dramatic? Perhaps. But he’d been holding back tears from the moment you ordered that bouquet.

As he made his way through the park on his way home, he noticed a figure sitting hunched over on a bench. No umbrella, no raincoat. They were clutching what looked like a bouquet in their hands. The rain dripped from their hair and shoulders, yet they seemed lost in their own quiet world.

Could it be?

Izuku’s eyes widened as he quickened his pace, rushing toward the figure on the bench. And sure enough, it was you. As he drew closer, he caught the faint sound of quiet sniffles. He called your name softly twice before you slowly turned to face him.

“Izuku…?”

Your voice barely above a whisper.

His heart clenched at the look in your eyes—so miserable. It hurt him to see you like this, sitting there in the rain, tears shimmering on your cheeks.

“Hey now,” Izuku said softly, kneeling down in front of you and offering a gentle, reassuring smile. He held the umbrella above both of you, shielding you from the pouring rain as he looked into your eyes with concern. “What happened? Talk to me.”

“It’s just— it was supposed to be a surprise! It was meant to be romantic!” You sniffled again, voice trembling. “Once I had the bouquet, I wanted to get tickets for the flower show, but they were all sold out. And then it started pouring… the flowers got ruined, my clothes are soaked…and I just…everything’s a mess.”

Izuku’s eyebrows furrowed in sympathy. “Shh, it’s okay,” he murmured softly. “If he rejected you just because everything wasn't perfect then he's an idiot and doesn't deserve you. You’re doing all this for him, you put in all this effort.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, you hesitated before speaking again, “It’s for you. You’re the guy.” You took a shaky breath. “I planned this to ask you out. I was going to surprise you after your shift… but now everything’s ruined. I— I’m sorry.” You look down at your lap, avoiding eye contact.

Izuku’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at you, processing your words.He reached out gently, taking your trembling hands into his. You raised your gaze to him as you felt his warm fingers cup your cheek. Without another word, Izuku leaned in closer and pressed his lips softly to yours in a gentle, heartfelt kiss. The rain continued to fall around you both, but that didn’t upset you anymore.

He pulled away and a small, shy smile tugged at his lips as he squeezed your hands gently. “You don’t need a fancy plan or perfect timing, I already think you’re ama-” you cut him off by pulling him into another kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips.

“You’re gonna have to pay for what you put me through, though,” he teased softly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I can’t believe you had me make my own bouquet and then made me think it was for another guy!”

You giggled at his teasing, pressing another quick peck to his lips. “I know. That was cruel. But I was going to make it up to you with the flower show tickets!”

Izuku chuckled softly, his expression softening. “Whatever, I’m happy anyway.” He paused, then gently brushed a damp strand of hair from your face. “Now let’s get you home and dry you off, yeah?”

A/n: not my best work, feel like I definitely could've written this better. Also this was heavily inspired by this.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated though!

Deviders are by @thecutestgrotto !!

for @kcandyliciouss <3 | event masterpost

he told you he didn’t need sunscreen. said it like it was obvious. like he wasn’t spending half the day diving across hot sand with his shirt off.

yaku walks out of the bathroom with a towel low on his hips, hair damp, skin flushed and radiating heat. he doesn’t say anything at first. just crosses the room, jaw tight, arms stiff at his sides.

he smells faintly like strawberry mojito. your shower gel. the one he pretends not to like but still uses when he’s sore and sun-tired. it lingers behind the steam, sharp and sweet.

you’re already sitting on the edge of the bed, aftersun jar open beside you. he doesn’t ask. just turns around and waits.

his back is bad — deep red across the shoulders, uneven where the sun hit hardest. the kind of burn that makes even a shirt unbearable.

you rub the lotion between your palms and touch him carefully. he stiffens at first. winces.

“ouch,” he mutters.

“i know.”

he doesn’t complain again.

you work in silence, smoothing the cream across his back, down his sides, careful around the worst spots. he shifts once when your thumbs brush the his deep-red shoulder. otherwise, he doesn’t move.

the air smells like sugar and lime and heat. his skin slowly cools under your hands.

when you finish, you don’t pull away right away. you let your hand rest flat between his shoulder blades. his breathing’s slowed. his shoulders have dropped.

he turns his head slightly. doesn’t look at you, just says, quiet:

“you’re good at taking care of me.”

you don’t answer. just slide your hand down, light, careful, and press a kiss to the space between his shoulders — burned and lotion-slicked and warm.

he lets you. says nothing. just sits there with you, still smelling like strawberries and mint, like he didn’t mean to need this but doesn’t want it to end.

© everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

fictionally, i love men with attitude (i.e. tsukishima, daiki, kuroo, shinso, katsuki, etc.) realistically, i’d want them all to absolutely eat dogshit if we meet irl

Sealed Secrets

Part 1/?

Synopsis:

Knight!Shinsou x Princess!Reader

A princess, known for her reckless and cheerful nature, and her knight, Shinsou, who is her polar opposite and is stuck always looking out for her safety. There's no way the two could ever get along. Right? However after countless mysterious murders, secrets, and riddles, the princess finds herself being drawn to her knight, and it seems like he's starting to tolerate her too.

Cw: death, fem!reader, slowburn (they hate each other lol), no quirks

Wc: 4.0k

Not beta read!

It was a sunday afternoon when you had just met Archie Wellington, the prince of Solandria. The Wellington family had been visiting your kingdom; your families had decided to have the two of you wed to ensure peace between Solandria and Hortensia after many years of war.

As much as you hated the idea of being wed to a stranger, you had to admit- Archie wasn't all that bad, especially compared to some of your other suitors. He was sweet and most important of all respectful, quite handsome as well; With his sleek blonde hair and dazzling brown eyes that crinkled when he smiled, he had a certain charm. And although it seemed that neither of you wanted a romantic relationship, Archie was most likely your best option for a somewhat happy marriage, you thought.

That was, of course, before the maids had found him dead in the guest room the next morning.

It was a surprise for everyone. Just the evening before the prince was alive and well.

The two royal families were dining together and discussing the upcoming wedding, After multiple generations of war between the kingdoms, the two rulers had agreed to make peace. And since both royal offsprings were approximately the same age, the decision to wed them was made.

Now, you weren’t the royal heir so you knew that you would be “given away” in marriage at some point. Non-heir princesses were often married off to princes, dukes, or other nobles. Since they were not first in line for the throne, their primary role was often seen as forging alliances through marriage.

Of course your brother, the heir, was also expected to marry, but the pressure on him wasn’t as heavy; while marriage was important to produce heirs and secure succession, the crown prince had more freedom, he had more leeway in choosing a spouse who aligns with his personal preferences. In your case, however, you’d be married off to whoever your father saw more fit for the kingdom's political situation.

You hated that fact. It truly wasn’t fair. You didn’t want to marry some stranger, you wanted to fall in love just like in those romance books you loved to read! But clearly that wasn’t going to happen.

Archie was far more pleasant than your other candidates for husband; you liked him, sure, but still, you didn’t love him. In fact, you didn’t even see yourself loving him in the future. He was a decent man, yet he came across as overly proper. His posture was so rigid it seemed as if he had a stick lodged in his back, and his table manners made you feel a bit self-conscious about your own; dear god, what if he was judging your table manners??

He spoke only when addressed and did so with extreme formality. He embodied the very definition of a gentleman. And that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, however he seemed to lack authenticity. It felt as though he had been conditioned by chivalry and etiquette to the point where he no longer could express any thoughts of his own.

Nonetheless, you made every effort to appear polite and gracious throughout the dinner. You were acutely aware of the importance of making a good impression, especially with your mother casting you stern glances that seemed to say, “Don’t mess this up.”

“Your Majesty, please do indulge in some of our finest fish! I know seafood is a rarity in Solandria, so please, help yourself to as much as you like. Our seas yield the world’s best salmon,” your father said cheerfully as the maids set several plates of smoked salmon before the guests. It was evident that he was eager to impress the Solandrian king and queen, who responded with a courteous nod and a smile.

After a few long hours of various dinner courses and the after-dinner music performances- an endeavor your mother insisted upon to impress the guests and showcase your kingdom’s cultural richness- you finally made your way to your chambers.

As much as you loved to indulge in music performances, the constant need to be at your best behaviour had really left you drained.

Thinking back to the performance, it seemed that Prince Archie was quite exhausted as well. His usual rigid posture had softened; he leaned back in his armchair, gripping its edges tightly as the loud music played on. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his complexion appeared paler than usual.

Still, he was hiding his discomfort quite well, better than you at least. The only reason you had noticed his unease was because you had been staring at him for the past ten minutes, trying to decide if you were willing to have children with him or not; honestly, with his looks it’d be a shame not to.

It was quite strange that you hadn’t made eye contact yet, given your intense staring.

You let out a sigh, pushing thoughts about your soon-to-be husband from your mind as you prepare for bed. Once nestled beneath the soft covers, you wish your ladymaid goodnight and gradually drift off to sleep.

It was at breakfast when you learned of the unfortunate news: the prince of Solandria had died some time at night. The physician had stated that the cause of death was illness. Of course, the Wellington’s were devastated- their son showed no signs of illness and now he’s suddenly dropped dead. In response to their grievance the physycian only explained that the illness was one of which he’d never seen, and recommended the king impose a quarantine to prevent further deaths until apothecaries and herbalists could discover a remedy.

You feel a chill run down your spine at the thought of an unknown illness sweeping through the kingdom. Not to mention the quarantine. That could mean isolation for everyone, including you and your family. The mere idea filled you with dread; your freedom to step outside the palace was already incredibly limited, and now you might be confined to your room for weeks.

Your father nodded gravely at the physician’s suggestion, his expression serious and contemplative. By that afternoon, a quarantine was officially ordered. Guards would be stationed at every door to ensure no one could leave, and meals would be delivered directly to each family member's quarters.

The Wellingtons announced their intention to depart the following day, instructing that their carriage be prepared by then. It was understandable; their sole purpose for visiting had been to arrange their son’s wedding, and now he was no more. It was no surprise they wished to return home as swiftly as possible.

The whole situation was surreal to you. You were unsure of how to feel. You felt horrible for the prince and his family, of course, but you hadn’t known him that well. Grieving for someone you hardly knew felt strange.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt over your lack of intense sadness and care for the prince. He had been kind to you, he'd never done anything wrong to you, and yet here you were, struggling to feel a deep sense of sorrow for his passing. It wasn't that you didn't care at all, no, you did. But you felt that your reaction should be stronger, given that he was supposed to be your husband.

With a deep sigh, you lie down on your bed, feeling a sense of resignation. No one need know the true extent of your feelings, or lack thereof. You could just act devastated and everything would be fine. It wouldn't matter what you truly felt. Besides, given the quarantine, no would even see you for the next few weeks exept your lady-in-waiting.

The thought of being completely alone for the upcoming weeks was less than appealing. You stood up from the bed, and, hoping to find some distraction, moved briskly to the bookshelf, scanning the spines of books in search of something to cure your boredom.

You selected a book at random, hoping that the pages would provide some much-needed respite.

After what seemed like hours of reading, you just couldn't take it anymore. You needed to get out of here somehow. The maid had just brought you dinner, which you didn’t really feel like eating. In a few hours the maid would return to clear your meal and prepare you for bed. That’s when it struck you: now’s a window of time when no one would check on you, roughly four hours. The guards stationed outside your door offered no means of escape, the window however…

You gently untied the long silk bed sheets from her bedpost, carefully knotting them together into a sturdy rope. Your fingers trembled slightly. Once secure, you looped the makeshift ladder over the windowsill.

Taking a deep breath, you slipped out of her chamber onto the windowsill. The cool night air brushed against your skin as you carefully lowered yourself down, gripping the rope tightly. Below, just within reach, was a large oak tree- its branches sprawling close to the palace wall.

With a final glance back at your room, you began to descend. Once your feet found the first sturdy branch,you slowly eased yourself onto it and untied the knot around your waist.

Halfway down, you paused briefly to listen—no sounds of alarm or footsteps. Heart pounding in your chest, you continued until your feet touched the soft grass outside the palace walls.

You ran towards the hamlet village located just besides the royal palace. You wore one of your simpler dresses, making sure to blend in and not draw too much attention to yourself. This wasn’t your first time here, you had visited the village a number of times before and even sneaked some coins to the struggling families.

The village was a great place, probably your favourite place even. It really held a special place in your heart. Everyone there was so warm and friendly, it was as if the whole village was one big happy family.

Everything was simple there, no need for exquisite table manners or polite facades.

Your favourite part though was when the village would gather and dance around the fire and eat all kinds of goods every evening. It was comforting.

After spending some time participating in the dances and having friendly chit-chats with the villagers, you knew it was time to head back to the palace before your maid discovered your absence. Reluctantly saying farewell, you bid the villagers goodnight and made your way back to the royal residence, hoping to return unnoticed.

All was going well- you were practically in your room as you climbed up the bedsheet-rope. That is until a low "ahem" echoed through the silence, breaking your focus. Startled, you glanced down to find a palace guard standing below, the visor of his helmet hiding his visage, but his head unmistakably tilted in your direction.

“Oh..haha..good evening sir! I was just..taking a breath of fresh air is all..”

The knight seemed unamused with your cheap excuse. His stoic demeanor signaled that your attempt at nonchalance was far from successful.

"Taking a breath of air, were you, your highness?" The guard's voice was flat, laced with a hint of disbelief. "By scaling down the side of the palace wall?"

There was a moment of silence.

“Could you..maybe..perhaps..keep this a secret?” you said weakly, there wasn’t much you could do except beg him.

"And why should I keep this little escapade of yours a secret, my lady? If his royal majesty finds out about this both you and I will get in big trouble. Except for you it would mean a lecture and maybe heightened security, while for me it would mean beheading."

You grimaced at his words, he had every right to rat you out. But maybe you could convince him otherwise..?

“I understand it’s only right for you to report my escape to my father,” you said hurriedly, desperation creeping into your voice. “But I swear, sir- no one saw me. No one will even suspect I was gone for a few hours. If you keep this secret, I could speak well of you to my father. Convince him to elevate you in rank!”

The knight, however, still seemed unconvinced. He crossed his arms and stared up at you silently.

You sighed deeply before looking at him with pleading eyes,

“Just…please..?This is my chance at freedom. I’ll do anything for you to keep silent.”

The guard's stern expression remained hidden behind the visor, betraying no hint of his thoughts.

The weight of his decision seemed heavy on his shoulders, and he continued to stare in silence.

After a moment of quiet contemplation, his stance subtly shifted and his arms uncrossed. Something about your pleas seemed to strike a chord with him.

Then, without a single word, he suddenly turned and walked away briskly.

What?

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

He just… left?

Was that a ‘no’ or a ‘yes’? Did he want something from you? He hadn’t even given his name, so you couldn’t tell your father about him. You were left more puzzled than ever. Still, you quickly climbed through the window and hid away your handmade rope just before the maid knocked on your door.

She entered your room, taking note of your untouched dinner. You were lying on your bed, pretending to read a book.

“No appetite, my lady? I could ask the cook to make you something else, if you wish?”

You simply shook your head. You had stuffed your mouth with all sorts of delicious food at the village. You didn’t think you could handle any more.

“No thank you, Agatha. I’m not really hungry.” you replied, earning a nod from the woman.

That’s how the next few nights unfolded- every evening, the moment your maid dropped off you dinner you would quietly slip out of your window to visit the village. And almost every time, the same guard- Shinsou Hitoshi, as you later learned his name- would catch you again. Each encounter was silent; you would simply nod at each other and then continue on your way.

You were sprawled on the floor when Agatha brought you dinner. In one hand, you held a piece of fabric; in the other, a needle.

“Embroidery? Have you picked up a new hobby, my lady?” she asked curiously, placing the food on your bedside table.

You let out a bitter laugh. “‘Picked up’ is quite an overstatement. The only thing I’ve managed to pick up is this stupid needle, which I cannot for the life of me thread,” you groaned.

“Well, you have plenty of time to learn, princess,” Agatha chuckled softly at your frustration before her expression grew more somber. “It doesn’t seem like the herbalists are close to discovering more about the illness, so you’ll have to stay here a while longer.”

You huffed unhappily at her words.

“Are there no updates whatsoever? Absolutely nothing new?” you asked, sitting up from the floor.

“Many of the pigs have started dying,” she replied grimly. “We’re not quite sure why. I doubt it’s related to the illness, though.”

You sighed quietly before dismissing her.

Your night out went as usual- you had even made some friends at the village through your frequent visits. Dancing, eating, chatting- everything was perfect.

As you were returning home, climbing the rope to your room, your hand suddenly slipped, causing you to lose your grip. You gasped and closed your eyes, bracing for the fall. But it never came. Instead, you felt the cold touch of metal and heard a small grunt.

Your eyes fluttered open to find yourself face-to-face with piercing purple eyes peering at you through the slit of a visor. For a moment, there was only silence. Then, Shinsou carefully placed you back on your feet.

He placed you back on your feet, his grip steady but cautious.

“You do realize that if I hadn’t caught you just then, you would have fallen to your death, right, princess?” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance.

“Oh… yes, of course! Thank you for saving me, Sir Hitoshi,” you replied hurriedly, trying to mask your embarrassment.

“You should stop sneaking out,” he added firmly, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. “What?” you exclaimed a bit louder than you intended.

“This is too risky. Too dangerous. I shouldn’t have agreed to keep this secret in the first place,” he said with conviction.

“No, you can’t out me! I’ll go crazy if I’m stuck in my room all day!” you protested. “The herbalists are nowhere near finding a cure, and even the pigs are dying off now,” your hands gesticulating your frustration. “If father finds out about this, I’ll never be allowed out again! No more dancing, singing, or delicious village food cooked with love. Instead, I’ll be stuck with the soulless dinners our so-called cook makes,” you complained bitterly.

You knew that Shisou most likely thought of you as a spoiled noble, who takes things for granted, but at this moment you couldn’t care less about what he thought of you.

The moment you finished your sentence, his head snapped sharply toward you.

“Wait, you don’t eat your dinners?” he inquired, his tone cautious.

“Uh... no? I usually eat dinner at the village,” you shrugged, confused as to why this was relevant to your conversation.

“And all leftovers go to the pigs, correct?”

“I think so, yes,” you replied, still puzzled by where he was going with this line of questioning.

He nodded to himself and mumbled almost inaudibly, “I had my theories, but this makes sense…”

“Huh? What are you even talking about?” you said, feeling a bit annoyed at his crypticness.

“Say, princess,” he continued, “if the quarantine was to be lifted, you wouldn’t have to sneak out anymore, right? I wouldn’t have to deal with you anymore?”

“I..yes? I suppose so?” you responded, a little offended but more surprised by the question itself.

He nodded again and then walked away quietly, murmuring something under his breath. You stood there flabbergasted, watching him go, your mind trying to make sense of the conversation you just had.

The next morning, you were surprised when Agatha told you to go to the main hall. Seeing your confused face, she shrugged. “A knight has asked for the royal family’s immediate attention.”

Huh?

You immediately thought of Shinsou’s words from last night. Was he going to tell the king about your escapes? Or was this about something else?

Trying not to overthink it, you quickly got dressed and headed to the main hall.

Your parents were already sitting on their thrones, regal and composed, while your brother entered right after you did. Once everyone was ready, your father nodded to a purple-haired knight to come forward.

“I sincerely hope that the matter is indeed important, seeing as we are risking our health at this moment,” he said with a hint of impatience.

“Of course, Your Majesty. I believe I have discovered something you will find useful.” When you heard the knight’s voice, you realized it was indeed Shinsou Hitoshi. You had never seen him without his helmet, and you had to admit: he was quite good-looking. Unruly indigo locks fell over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes. The dark shadows beneath his eyes accentuated the sharp, angular features of his face-likely a result of his night duties. High, angular cheekbones framed by a few stray strands of hair added to the intensity of his gaze.

You felt your cheeks heat up when his eyes met yours; his expression was still mostly inscrutable.

Why was he so hot???

Shinsou cleared his throat again, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“There are two things I wanted to tell you. First—I believe there is no illness. Second—there is a chance that someone has been trying to harm the princess.”

A collective gasp echoed through the hall, low murmurs spreading among the gathered knights and servants. Your eyes widened at his words.

What was he on about?

“Elaborate,” commanded the King, his voice edged with skepticism.

Shinsou nodded solemnly.

“I have a suspicion that the cause of the Solandrian prince’s death was a severe allergic reaction, not an illness. Most likely, he was allergic to fish but was unaware of his intolerance, as he had never experienced such symptoms before. I am confident that if we ask the maids and butlers, they will confirm that the prince showed signs of an allergic reaction shortly before his death. Conversely, there are no signs of a contagious disease spreading among others. If it had been an illness, I believe we would see at least some additional cases or fatalities—yet none have arisen.”

The King turned toward the royal physician, seeking confirmation.

“I... I suppose that could be a possible reason for his death,” the physician admitted hesitantly. “Quite... likely, actually.”

Your father’s expression darkened. “So, what you are telling me is that you suggested a quarantine to be ordered simply because you didn’t think of checking other possible causes?” he said, gritting his teeth. His tone was sharp, clearly displeased.

The physician nervously fiddled with his hands and lowered his gaze, clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

Your father’s gaze shifted back to Shinsou and he signaled for him to continue.

“As for the princess,” Shinsou began carefully, “I believe someone has attempted to poison her. The sudden series of deaths among the pigs has nothing to do with any ‘illness’. The princess has not been eating dinner for the past few days, and if I’m not mistaken, all the leftovers are fed to the pigs. If there was poison in the food, it would explain why most of the pigs are unwell. To confirm this theory, I suggest the physicians perform a necropsy on the deceased animals or test their blood samples for toxins.”

He paused briefly, meeting the king’s eyes with calm confidence. “This way, we can determine whether foul play is involved and take appropriate action.”

The hall fell into a tense silence as everyone considered his words. Your father looked thoughtful.

“And how do you know that the Princess has not been eating dinner, Sir?” the Queen suddenly inquired, her voice sharp with suspicion.

Your eyes immediately met Shinsou’s, a look of desperation flashing across your face. He was going to tell on you. He was going to tell them about your sneak-outs. There was no way he wouldn’t—especially when your mother was questioning him so directly.

Shinsou’s gaze shifted back to the Queen, calm and composed.

You bit your lip, heart pounding as you anxiously waited for his next words.

“I overheard two of the maids worrying about it, Your Majesty,” he said smoothly, a subtle smile playing on his lips.

You blinked in surprise—he had lied to the Queen to protect you. You hadn’t expected him to do that, you felt a flicker of gratitude.

Shinsou’s eyes flickered to yours again, offering a barely perceptible ghost of a smile. You responded with a quick, grateful look.

After a moment of silence, the King finally spoke.

“Thank you for your input, Sir Hitoshi. The information you’ve provided will help us determine our next course of action. I believe it’s fitting to reward your loyalty.” He paused briefly before continuing. “Therefore, I promote you to Guard Knight of the Princess. If someone truly is trying to harm her, I trust that you will be able to protect her.”

What..?

You sharply turned your head towards your father with an unhappy look.

You didn’t need a personal guard! You were certainly fine as you were, you didn’t need Shinsou following your every step.

Shinsou bowed his head respectfully, a modest smile touching his lips, but you could see his eye twitch with annoyance.

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I will do my utmost to fulfill my duties and ensure the princess’s safety.”

Ugh. What a disaster.

Please do not repost or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated though!

Deviders are by @thecutestgrotto !!

Rules

Read before you request!

• I don't write nsfw content

• I don't write character x character

• I write at my own pace so it might take a while

• I might decline your request if I'm not comfortable writing it or if I feel like I can't write it well

I call him "Izuku" as if we're friends 😓

I’ve grown out of calling Midoriya ‘Deku’. I’ve become..

A man.

Masterlist

My hero academia:

HITOSHI SHINSOU-

"Sealed Secrets" knight!Shinsou x princess!Reader (multichapter)

-Part 1

IZUKU MIDORIYA-

"Make his day, buy a bouquet!" florist!Izuku x reader

Haikyuu:

TSUKISHIMA KEI-

"Soft spot"

HINATA SHOUYOU-

"Light in the dark"

Cupid's chatroom:

Nothing here yet

Hello hello! Welcome to my blog!! It's quite new so I don't really know what I'm doing..

You can call me Kcandy, I go by she/her, and this is where I will be posting my fanfiction!

Some fandoms I'm planning on writing for:

•My hero academia

•Haikyuu

•Cupid's chatroom

•Harry Potter (marauders era only)

(Might add more later idk)

Rules Masterlist

Requests: open!!

Tags:

#kcandyreblogs

#kcandyyaps

#kcandywrites

012. grudges, growth, and you — yaku morisuke.

wc: 0.6k cw: gn!reader. enemies to lovers <3 a/n: i've never particularly favored yaku, but this makes me like him a little more haha <3 i hope you enjoy! requested by @rumik09 and @solvisun

you’ve known yaku since you were six, and you’ve wanted to throw a dodgeball at his face since approximately the second week.

he called you a cheater during p.e. and you spent the rest of elementary school making his life mildly inconvenient. swapping his indoor shoes. hiding his pencil case. once, in fifth grade, you signed him up for the school play and gave him the role of “talking tree #3.” he never forgave you.

in return, he told your entire class you had a crush on the music teacher.

by middle school, your war had quieted into occasional eye-rolls and passive-aggressive comments.

by high school, it had become something stranger.

“you’re short,” you tell him in second year.

“you’re loud,” he snaps back.

you share a math class. he borrows your notes once when he’s sick and grumbles out a “thanks” like it burns his throat.

you shrug. “you’d do the same.”

he stares at you like you’ve said something deeply offensive.

“i wouldn’t,” he mutters.

but next week, when you’re out with a fever, he drops off your homework at your front gate without saying anything.

you find out because your mom tells you a “tiny blonde boy with a very serious face” came by.

you text him: that was weirdly nice of you.

he replies: shut up or i’ll take it back.

in third year, he becomes someone you text when you can’t sleep.

not often. just… sometimes.

on nights when the pressure feels too loud or your brain won’t shut up. you don’t say anything serious. just little things.

what if we all just dropped out and became frogs.

he replies three minutes later: you wouldn’t survive the winter. frogs don’t have heaters.

you laugh into your pillow and think maybe this thing between you isn’t war anymore.

you end up at the same college.

not on purpose.

just luck. or bad luck. depending on the day.

you spot him across campus during orientation and your heart does something weird.

you don’t say hi.

he does.

“oh great,” he mutters, falling into step beside you like it’s inevitable. “you again.”

you grin. “missed me?”

“like a cavity.”

but his smile lingers a little too long.

you grow into something real slowly.

too slowly, maybe.

he makes tea for you when you’re up late studying. never coffee. he says it makes your hands shake.

you throw a pillow at him once for memorizing your class schedule. he throws it back and adds a blanket over your shoulders before leaving your dorm.

neither of you says the word for it.

not until third year.

you’re on the floor of his apartment, surrounded by snack wrappers and overdue assignments. you’ve been laughing for twenty minutes about a terrible movie.

your face hurts. your stomach aches.

he’s looking at you with this expression like he can’t believe you’re real.

you stop laughing.

he doesn’t.

“what,” you say, suspicious.

“nothing,” he says, but his ears go pink.

you sit up. “what?”

he sighs. presses a hand to his face.

“i used to hate you,” he mumbles.

“i know.”

“like, really hate you.”

“yeah. you made that clear.”

he glances at you. then away.

“i don’t anymore.”

you go quiet.

“okay,” you say finally.

“okay,” he repeats.

you stare at each other.

then you say it.

not dramatic. not heavy. not a confession.

just honest.

“i don’t hate you either.”

his face breaks into something unsure and bright and so very yaku.

and when he leans in, you don’t flinch.

you kiss like you’re still unsure what to call this thing between you.

but it’s soft. and a little clumsy. and warm.

after, he doesn’t say anything.

taglist (open. ask to be added <3): @tangerinelovr @oligbia @megapteraurelia @iwantfoodpleasebuymefood

© everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

010. shoelaces, coolers, and umbrellas — akaashi keiji.

wc: 0.5k cw: gn!reader. akaashi keiji is a helpful man <3 a/n: i hate when people forget akaashi is canonically weird, but at the same time i have a specific vision of him in my head that i cant let go of. i hope you enjoy <3 requested by @thewhispersofthewaves

it’s the last evening of a week-long joint training camp between nekoma and fukurodani. the gym smells like floor polish and sweat, volleyballs scattered across the floor, jerseys sticking to backs. the air is thick with noise — lev yelling across the court, bokuto celebrating after a spike, yamamoto getting scolded for the third time for trying to show off.

you’re used to it by now. half manager, half unofficial peacekeeper. you refill water bottles, tape fingers, make sure no one forgets their knee pads or their dignity. it’s been nonstop since morning, but you don’t mind. not really.

you’ve been exchanging glances with fukurodani’s setter all week. not on purpose. it’s just that every time you look up, he’s already looking your way. akaashi is quiet. efficient. a little weird. the only one who hasn’t added to the chaos. he thanks you every time you pass him a towel. always bows a little deeper than necessary.

you catch him watching you when you scold yamamoto for throwing a water bottle at kenma. you don’t say anything.

later, you trip over your own shoelace near the bench.

he’s there before you can blink, already crouching, already steadying you and double-knotting your laces.

"you were due for that," he says.

you flush. "are you calling me clumsy?"

"i’m calling it a statistical inevitability."

you laugh, flustered. he smiles (barely, but it counts).

by the time practice winds down, most of the boys have already vanished into the locker rooms. the gym quiets. you’re packing up the med kit alone when footsteps approach.

"need a hand?" akaashi asks.

you blink up. "i’m okay. just wrapping up."

he crouches beside you anyway, folding ice packs into the cooler without needing instruction. you pack in comfortable silence.

rain begins to hammer against the windows.

you glance up. "great. i didn’t bring an umbrella."

he zips his duffle. then, without a word, pulls out a compact black umbrella and presses it into your hand.

"but you’ll get soaked."

"i’ve got a hoodie."

you hesitate. then take it, fingers brushing his.

"thanks, akaashi."

"anytime."

you both move to the entrance. the gym lights flicker behind you, the last echo of sneakers fading. rain pours in sheets now, wind tugging at loose strands of your hair.

he stands beside you, not quite touching. close enough.

"do you want to wait it out?" he asks.

you shake your head. "better to go now, before it gets worse."

you shift your bag, glance up at him. "thanks for earlier. for the shoelaces. and the cooler."

"you’re always doing something for everyone else," he says. "it’s easy to want to help."

you don’t know what comes over you, but before your nerves can catch up, you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. soft. quick.

he goes still. then — a beat later — he meets your eyes. his gaze softens.

"...that was nice," he says quietly.

you smile, tugging the umbrella open. "guess you’ll have to keep helping me, then."

he watches you step into the rain.

and even with the wind pulling at your sleeves — you swear you feel his warmth linger, just behind you.

taglist (open. ask to be added <3): @tangerinelovr @oligbia @megapteraurelia

© everything here is written with care — please don’t repost, copy, or alter my work without permission.

Everytime teacher! Izuku appears on my fyp and feed my body physically vibrates