My Hero Academia One-Shots | Self Insert

💨🌷tamaki | the hill is my canvas🌷💨

8 bolts of fabric, sage green, spring time, and getting constellations wrong. simple escapism in a grassy, ghibli-esque field i wrote while listening to "Impromptu No 1: Hope" by Christopher Dicker at 2 am.
wc: 781

•••

Eight rolls of vividly colored fabric bumped in your arms with each step. They were barely balanced in your hold, partially blocking your vision where they stacked in front of your eyes.

The wind was strong: so strong, it transformed blades of grass into knives as they cut against your bare shins. You continued with squinted eyes, your arms numb from carrying the fabric for so long.

A gust of wind, one more powerful than the rest, caused you to fumble with the sage green bolt. You bit your tongue and tried to catch the runaway roll, but your failed attempts only worsened the misfortune, the remaining seven eagerly tumbling from your arms.

A multitude of colors and patterns flowed over the rippling grass: canary yellow, fluorescent violet, and a silky azure.

Your body was too exhausted to cry. You mindlessly stared over the rainbow of cloth that continued to unravel itself down the hill.

The overgrown zoysia grass felt like a pillow as you fell back; fortunately, the violent winds had slowed to a breeze. The air smelled naturally sweet: the way certain types of grass do.

Your tired eyes swept across the sky; puffy, cumulonimbus clouds complimenting its beautiful baby blue. Suddenly, they felt heavy. You found yourself struggling to keep them open, the unstoppable force called sleep pushing them closed.

With a final, conscious breath that inflated your lungs, you accepted the Earth's generosity and sunk into the grass.

•••

A timid hand waved the sun in and out of your closed eyes. The frequent flashes from darkness to brightness had pulled you out of your slumber.

"Tamaki," you mouthed. A sudden breeze whisked your voice away.

The boy extended a hand to your squinting figure. You grasped it and pulled yourself up, careful not to overpower your gracious company.

Tamaki's bangs brushed his face with the wind, but he didn't seemed too bothered by it. The long ends of his black and white dressed flowed around his ankles. It danced like he was underwater.

"Do you want help?" he queried, turning to face the grassy hill enveloped in silky fabrics.

Tamaki's choice to ask if you "wanted" rather than "needed" was intentional. You could hear it in his voice even through the spring breeze's incessant whispers.

"Yes, please," you hummed.

With grace, you glided down the grassy hill, bending over to pick up the ends of the fabric. Tamaki gathered the other half of patterns, pulling them along the field to where they finished.

He attentively observed your movements as you pulled the remaining fabric to their respective bolts. Carefully, he mirrored you, wary not to soil the beautiful cloth.

Since they weren't perfectly rolled, they had significantly more volume than before when they pressed against your chest. Thankfully, Tamaki was there to assist.

The sky was transitioning from sunset to night. You could tell by the way the west horizon was stained a turquoise green. The further east across the sky, the deeper blue it faded, and tiny pricks of light became more prominent in the darkness.

You walked shoulder to shoulder in a comfortable silence even the tranquil wind shared. Crickets chirped shyly, their songs so gentle it was almost flattering. The occasional brush of Tamaki's dress against your ankle brought you out of the returning wave of exhaustion.

But that simple gesture could only give you so much energy.

Your legs began to falter, knees buckling, ankles aching. You were falling behind.

Tamaki stopped when he realized you were not by his side.

"(y/n)?" your name was a question in itself as it left his tongue.

"I'm just tired, sorry."

Tamaki trailed back a few steps to hold your free hand, four bundles of unraveled fabric tucked away in your right arm. His hand was so soft around yours. He would randomly squeeze your fingers, grounding you back to earth.

You stared at your joined hands, your vision fuzzy with fatigue.

The stars shone with confidence. Tamaki would repeatedly point out the three constellations he knew: Orion, The Big Dipper, The Little Dipper. Though, you were pretty sure whatever stars Tamaki traced were actually something entirely different from The Little Dipper.

The soft hum of his voice was an embrace. As he spoke about the topic of stars—one Amajiki wasn't exactly too keen on—you felt the gentlest kiss press against your palm.

Then, your arm returned to your side, your fingers still intertwined with his.

•••

this ones completely unedited. i may start publishing more unedited stuff. it's a nice opportunity to just throw up a bunch of words, yeah?