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Am I in love with him? Yes, yes I am.
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where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)
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summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions
word count: 1981
tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties
event masterlist
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There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.
There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.
It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.
Friend.
The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.
High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.
Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.
Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.
“Ready for dinner?”
Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.
When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.
“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”
He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”
You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”
And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.
You can feel your shoulders drop.
After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.
As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.
When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.
“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.
“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”
You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.
“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”
Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.
Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.
“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”
You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.
“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”
And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.
……………………
Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.
Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.
Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.
Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.
You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.
You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.
He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.
“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.
“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.
“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.
You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”
You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.
He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.
“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.
“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”
“Me too.”
“Okay good.”
Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.
“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.
Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.
That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.
A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.
“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.
You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.
“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”
He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.
“I like you tons.”
You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.
“I like you tons too.”
Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.
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A Yamaguchi that isn't just babie and is actually sassy??? We love to see it🥰
«Full name»
Characters: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Hinata, Yamaguchi, Yachi, Kiyoko.
Tags: crack, cussing, gender neutral reader, sassy reader and characte.
Hinata Shoyo:
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Tsukishima Kei:
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Yachi Hitoka:
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Kiyoko Shimizu:
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Yamaguchi Tadashi:
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Kageyama Tobio:
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_____________❂_____________
Psst! If you enjoy this type of work, make sure you check out my other works or request your own!
My masterlist contains not only my main blog, but also rules for this one!
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I drew this idea it came to me what if Katsuki Bakugo as Remi from Ratatouille making sure Shoto Todoroki cuts everything and cooks everything properly.
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WHERES THE AIZAWA FUCKERS, WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKEUP
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Suna Kaiya kicks. Like a lot.
In your tummy, she kicks like you wouldn’t believe, far more than Akito ever did, and it fills you with so much excitement to know she’s happy, she’s healthy, and she’s excited to meet you both.
She’s moving more than usual today, and your hands come up to cradle your stomach, smiling down and letting your thumb soothe over it.
“Morning momma,” Rintaro says, and you smile as Akito sits happily perched on his dads shoulders.
“Morning, mumma!” Your six year old chirps, and you laugh at the duality of them. At the sight of your hands, two pairs of green eyes fall to your stomach, and two wide smiles grow. “Is Kaiya kicking?”
“She is bud,” you beam, moving to pour him a cup of juice as Rin sits him down at the table. “You wanna feel?”
“Yeah!” He says excitedly. With his juice you walk over to him, letting his tiny hands press against your swollen stomach, and he giggles at the feeling. “My baby sister is crazy!” He takes the juice from your hands and brings it to his mouth to sip.
“Rin, you are wanna come feel?” You ask, and he chuckles and shakes his head. He’s always loved your baby bump, loved the kicking of his babies that are growing inside of you, but lately, at his touch, Kaiya’s been kicking more furiously, roughly, and it’s taking its toll on your back.
He’s thrilled she’s already in tuned with his touch. But he hates the effect it has on you.
You roll your eyes, “Rintaro, Kaiya will always kick and hurt my back, you may as well feel her while she’s active and not resting.”
He gives you a small nod and a nervous sigh, stalking over to you and gently resting his hands on your belly. Instantly, the baby kicks at the warmth of his hands, but you’re sure to not pull a face or shift away while he does.
“She’s going crazy,” he laughs, looking at the bump fondly.
“Told you,” you say, gently carding a hand through his hair.
“Dang,” he chuckles, leaning over to kiss your head. “We really made that…”
“How?”
Both of your eyes widen and instantly dart to look at Akito, who’s cheeks are stained with strawberry juice and dark brown eyebrow quirked in interest.
“Uhh-“
“Time to get dressed!” You chirp, moving from Rintaro’s grip to meet your son, whose eyes are curved in confusion.
“But I haven’t had breakfast yet!”
“Breakfast in the living room today, whoo!” You quickly say, looking at Rin nervously who merely laughs at your distress, shaking his head before he starts making breakfast.
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They’re practicing
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This man is trying my patience
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some kind of au....
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Little sketch
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Reader is so unhinged I love it🤣🤣
His phone rings once, and Kiyoomi smirks down at it.
You’re calling him, of course you are, why would you not be, and he sighs and excused himself before slipping out to the front of the building and answering the phone.
“This better be good.”
“Im crawling in your walls.”
He lets out a laugh and scrubs his face with his hand, “you miss me that much? I’ve only been gone for a few hours.” You whine on your end of the line, and he chews the tip of his thumb to stop himself from laughing.
“Kiyoomi,” you whine. “I didn’t give you enough kisses this morning. I’m feeling deprived.”
He cocks a brow, “babe, you gave me a thousand kisses before I left-“
���No, I gave you forty seven. I should’ve given you forty eight. Or a thousand.”
This, has him laughing. Laughing because never in a trillion years would he expect to let such ferality be allowed. What would 16 year old Kiyoomi think if he heard some person say “I’m in your walls because I didn’t kiss you enough”?
He wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t think someone would care enough about him to go through such lengths to be part of his life, a part of him, and he poked his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head.
“You can kiss me more when I get home.”
“I don’t want to wait that long.”
“I’ll kiss you back?”
This, has you stopping, and he raises his brows as he waits for a response. “You promise?”
“Of course I do,” he snorts. “When have I never not wanted to kiss you?”
“True.” You go quiet again, “I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.”
“…okay,” you finally sigh. “I’m gonna eat your drywall.”
He snorts again, “go for it.”
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I was today years old when I learned that when you type “otp: true” in AO3 search results it filters out fics with additional ships, leaving only the fics where your otp is the main ship
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Adgklll HELP??? A marriage of convenience and what could technically be considered an enemies-to-lovers situation???? SIGN ME UP!!!
contents: general bakugou x princess reader; 1.1k, fem reader. lowkey dedicated to the loml @ofmermaidstories even tho there's e2l undertones.
thinking about being a princess forced into a political marriage. your father is ailing and with no sons in his lineage, your country risks dissolution and open war if you do not marry.
already several of the more prominent families are forming factions; those with eligible sons are desperately trying to engineer opportunities for themselves, those without are amassing foot soldiers and weapons.
you cannot stand any of the pompous, greedy, egocentric princelings put forth by the noble families; men who care nothing for the country or its people, men with no thought for policy or justice—men who would gorge themselves on wine and women as the country crumbled at their feet.
even with a husband, there is no guarantee against a coup, not unless your husband is formidable enough to suppress one.
there is only one man you can stomach the thought of assuming the throne, one man with a head for strategy, a sense of duty, and a reputation strong enough to suppress the growing threat of political discord.
you find general bakugou katsuki in his quarters in the small hours of the morning, unable to sleep for your nerves.
"princess," he rasps, opening the door in nothing but his breeches. your face burns as you're confronted with the sight of a man's naked chest, miles of bare skin, golden in the glow of the torch lights.
"general," you say, resolutely raising your eyes to his face. there is no time to dance around the issue. "i need you to marry me."
bakugou's blonde hair is bed-rumpled, his manner sleep-soft, though his gaze is sharp. he watches you for a long moment before answering.
"'s an awful unromantic proposal," he says, an eyebrow raising.
despite his honorability, he's always had a way of grating on your nerves, and he knows it. you can't stop the reflexive scowl that paints your mouth, nor the irritability that seeps into your tone.
"i am being serious," you say, crossing your arms.
bakugou's eyes follow the movement. you are suddenly all too aware that you've marched through the castle halls in nothing but your night rail, too overcome with the thought of what must be done to pay the appropriate attention to your wardrobe.
"what, you lookin' to consummate it now?" he asks, gaze almost burning through the thin cotton of your shift.
your ears go hot. "can you stop being the most obnoxious man on earth for one moment."
bakugou leans an arm against his open door, bicep flexing with the movement. you try valiantly not to notice the way the shadows pool in the divots of his muscle, the way his trousers sit against the plane of his toned stomach.
"if you want me to say yes, you're gonna need to be a little nicer, princess," he says, mouth flicking into an awful little smirk.
"general—bakugou," you hiss. "do you want to watch the country you've spent years defending dissolve into nothing at the hands of these narcissistic, coddled fools?"
"rich words for a princess," bakugou says, his voice nearly a growl in the dim.
you are aware that you are sheltered as a royal. you are aware you are soft and naive. but you are educated, you are strong-willed, and you care. you may not be a son to your father, but you know you know have studied harder than any man on your father's court. you want to do your best for this country.
"do not mock me," you command.
bakugou's scarlet gaze trails over you, hot and liquid in the flickering torchlight.
"no? then what d'you want me to do to you?" he asks.
you fight down the furious flush of humiliation. "i want you," you repeat through gritted teeth, "to marry me."
bakugou's golden eyelashes dip as his gaze slides back over your crossed arms, then lower, all the way down to your bare toes. you feel horribly vulnerable under his scrutiny, even more knowing you are already at his mercy.
"you're serious," he rasps, eyes cutting back to yours.
"unfortunately," you grit out.
that draws another flicker of a smirk out of him. "and y'came running down here at midnight in your little nightdress because you were too scared you'd chicken out, is that it?"
that is absolutely it, and you hate that he knows it.
"will you marry me or not?" you demand, even your nose feeling hot now. "i don't know what my nightdress has to do with the question!"
"your nightdress is gonna have a lot to do with it if i say yes, angel," bakugou says.
you hate him. maybe it's better to just let the country fall to ruin, let some jumped up coalition of families amass power and overwhelm bakugou and his soldiers. with any luck maybe they will stab him.
you'll have to come up with another plan.
"fine," you hiss, turning on your heel. "message received."
but a hot hand closes on your arm before you can take another step, yanking you back to him. you stumble, barely catching yourself before bashing your nose into his chest.
"you know what you're asking for?" bakugou demands, leaning in to look into your face. "you know this wouldn't be easy."
"i know," you say begrudgingly. "but you are the country's best option—my best option. none of the men put forth are acceptable."
"don't like pretty boys, princess?" bakugou asks.
"you're plenty pretty," you bite out before you can think. horror overwhelms you when bakugou's smirk grows wider, a sharp white knife in the dark.
"think i'm pretty huh?" he says, his tone gloating.
"i think that you are awful and maybe i'd rather take my chances with a coup," you growl, trying to pry your arm from his grip.
but bakugou's hold tightens for a moment, and he leans down, close enough that his breath ghosts over the collar of your night rail.
"then if you're sure this is what you want, princess, you can have it," bakugou says. his thumb smoothes over the skin of your arm for just a moment, soft and feather light before he lets you go.
you step out of his reach, skin tingling, face flaming. there's no reason to delay, then. "fine, we're agreed. i'll see you in the morning. we'll announce it then."
you spin on your heel, bakugou's grunt of acceptance following you as turn back down the hall.
"see you in the morning, angel," he drawls, suddenly all agreement.
he may be the general between the two of you, but you know when it's time for a strategic retreat. you ignore his response and flee—your ears burning all the way to your chambers.
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Kiki's Delivery Service (1989) The Secret World of Arriety (2010) When Marnie Was There (2014) The Wind Rises (2013) Howl's Moving Castle (2004) My Neighbor Totoro (1988)
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S2 sketch by Minari Sakura
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instagram
@writeforfandoms @oonajaeadira
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