#animehorizons

"like butter." you smiled and celebrated your small victory at flirting with a stranger. he was for sure pink from your actions. his eyes didn't leave your figure.

he adored the smile you had. the crinkles at the corners of your eyes as they closed shut when you laughed. the way your body language presented itself made him feel comfortable around you.

the night was approaching to an end and kuroo wished that this encountered wasn't simply a one time thing.

"usually, pick-up lines wouldn't be this effective but i think this calls for another night out don't you think?" he tried to casually state.

"hm, what if you're all talk no bite?" you challenged him. his lips curled up in amusement once more. you really fueled his fire in the best way possible and he enjoyed it.

" well, my motto is 'talk is cheap' so how 'bout i show you if you're free next week?" he handed his phone over to you with a new contact opened, hoping to get your number.

"ooo now look who's the smooth one this time," you said, dialing in your number and your name down.

"smooth like butter?"

"like butter."

taglist (form here) : @katsulovee @strawberries-and-peppermint @vetheena @yyvveess @chloikawa @berriemilki @shawtyybae @shoyotime @royalelusts @emcchi @starforecast

“oh dear,” dazai mumbles, raising his brows. he bites his lips to stop a smile. he tries adjusting your arms to hang over his, slipping his hand around your waist. “how much did you drink?”

“not enough. need more.” your words are slurred, an obvious giggle escaping your throat as you try to shuffle out of his touch. but he’s quick to push you back into his arms. he shakes his head. “i don’t think so,” and quite literally says no 💗 to your face

first thing he does is gets you to lie down because that’s what a good boyfriend would do in any given situation, right? no. very much no. he just turns his back for a split second to get you a glass of water but you’ve got other plans. within minutes he’s faced with an empty bed where you’re not there. nervous panics >:0

“hey~where are you~please come out~i don’t bite~at least not this time~”

and then he hears it—from under the table, he can sense sounds of shuffling feet and muffled giggles. inching closer, he waits a moment before peaking down. met face to face with your eyes, he smiles. “caught you!”

you gasp. “caught me…!” you let out an excited squeal, scrambling to get away. but under the small table there’s isn’t much room to move around, so dazai ends up being pulled under with you. suddenly you’re pulled up against him, face buried in his neck. his lips part in shock. half his legs are dangling out from under the table (one might even mistake him for a dead body 🤔) but it’s okay because you’re falling asleep on his chest

“we can sleep under the table.” you mumble in a doze.

“but—”

“no buts. no objections. i like it here.”

a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. he pushes away bits of hair from your cheeks. “you’re going to complain about your ass hurting when you wake up.”

falling asleep together all wonky under the table, romantic i know. however, dazai is prepared to deal with you once you’ve woken up. he’s already got pain killers and a glass of water when you groan in pain. “what happened last night?” you mumble. his hands lightly massage your shoulders. “you were wasted, angel. it was pretty fun to watch~”

you flop back down in bed. bits and pieces from the night before are all coming back. you look at dazai. “my ass hurts.”

he stares back, a frown on his face. “my ass hurts too.”

chuuya

man if you’re getting drunk so is he 🤨 there are now two intoxicated fools instead of one. and you know what happens when two lovers drink together at once? a mess. that’s what happens.

let’s just pretend he isn’t as drunk as you are. (come to think of it, aku is probably the one who drags him home when he drinks to the point he can’t stand ಥ‿ಥ) so he probably isn’t sure how to take care of someone else when they’re the one who’s intoxicated.

“why are you falling on top of me?”

“you’re falling on top of me too!”

basically the both of you trying to balance on one another while stumbling home in a drunken mess. once you manage to get home, chuuya immediately flops onto bed with all his clothes still on. and so the only logical thing you can do is flop down right next to him.

“chuuya, did you know i love you a lot?”

he’s too out of it to give his usual response in denial. “what the hell? of course i know.”

“well did you know i like your clothing style a lot. and your hat. and your choker. and—”

“w-what’s with the sudden compliments?!” he jerks up, cocking a brow and cheeks dusted pink. you shrug, shuffling closer to his body. “idk i think it’s because i accidentally stained your white shirts with red wine hehe.”

he’s finally got a taste of his own medicine and he does not like it one bit ಠ_ಠ you’re both menaces when intoxicated.

“chuuya, give me a piggy back ride.”

“…but we’re literally in bed.”

“doesn’t matter??” you scoff, rolling him over on his stomach and climbing on top of his back. he is confused, appalled, turned on, and a bit angry. “I CANNOT BREATHE.” he groans out, waving his arms around with no luck. you, on the other hand, have made yourself comfortable on top of his back and have fallen asleep. good for you! good for you.

the both of you just end up falling asleep like that because chuuya’s too tired to move you off or do anything about it 🙏 he wakes up with major back pain tho

oda

i think he had to deal with a lot of “tipsy dazai” in the past, so he’s a bit experienced when it comes to taking care of someone when they’re drunk.

first thing he will do is inspect your ability to walk. can you walk? no? yes? doesn’t matter, he’ll carry you anyways. “up you go,” oda softly murmurs, hoisting you on his back, hooking his arms around your thighs as you bury your face in his shoulder. “mhm you smell good”

“but i smell like curry.”

“and i think that smells good. only on you though.”

he blinks at your odd compliment. he thinks you’re strange but nonetheless no one has ever said curry smells good on him so 💀

once he takes you home, he sees you flop down in bed and hide under one of his shirts much like a cat. he’s silently observing you from a distance, watching you aggressively shove your head in the material and roll around in it like it’s a blanket •3•

“here, uh…maybe this will be better?” he clears his throat, wrapping an actual blanket around your body like a burrito. you gasp. “BUT I WANT YOUR SHIRT,” which makes him blink in surprise. okay you’re getting the shirt back🧍🏻‍♀️

he’s a bit stunned at your current state because you’re constantly switching back and forth from “AHAHAHADJFG” to “life has no meaning. no purpose. the void is empty” while rolling around in your makeshift blanket burrito. he carefully sits by your side and lets your head fall to his chest. wrapping an arm around your shoulders, a content sigh leaves his lips. that is, until he feels you aggressively sniffing his shirt.

you squint at him. “you don’t smelly like curry anymore.” he blinks a few times. “because i changed my shirt…” you sniff him again, this time his neck and chest too. “i’m hungry. are you hungry? we should make some food, like, immediately. let’s go.” 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

why do you put him in these situations why are you like this🧍🏻‍♀️

he’s definitely not letting you touch the stove while you’re WASTED™️ so you just settle for marshmallows ?? he’s just going along with your drunk antics at this point so when you shoot out your grabby hands at him, he complies by lifting you up on the counter and shuffling between your knees.

“open your mouth.”

“why—” he is frightened you are frightening him

“just do it.” and so he does. you immediately shove two marshmallows in his mouth. he raises his brows, glancing at your concentrated face. about seven marshmallows later, he taps your cheek. “whai amh i beinh stuff wih marshmellohs”

you just cheekily grin and kiss his forehead. “no reason. i’m just taking a picture for research purposes.”

once you finally pass out on his shoulder, he carries you back to bed and tucks you in goodnight 😴 he’s exhausted, like his back fucking hurts tbh, but a small smile grows on his face when he looks around the messy room full of shirts, marshmallows, and random belongings you played with. you’ve made irreplaceable memories. but he’s the one who needs a drink now

atsushi

he can’t even take care of himself why would you do this to him 😔 but he is going to try his absolute best to take care of you no matter what. he feels like your life has been handed to him, your safety and well being determined by his skills, whether you live or not is up to him, it is a life or death situation and—

“muah~♡” suddenly broken from his trance, atsushi snaps his head towards you. his hand shoots up to his cheek, where you placed a sweet kiss. “what was that for?!” he reddens. you shake your head, as if it’s obvious. “you have kissable cheeks. and lips. and—”

“STOP—” he clamps your mouth shut before you can say anymore obscene things. he holds you upright with an arm around your waist while your head flops and sways in the crook of his neck. to say he’s nervous is an understatement but his determination is what keeps the both of you going all the way home. (with a lot of distractions though).

“maybe we should get you to bed—”

“no let me play with the building blocks.”

“those are pieces of sushi we were supposed to have for dinner T-T…”

hey—you’ve contaminated dinner but at least now you’ve accomplished making a sushi tower. atsushi doesn’t want to endorse this behavior but he’s kind of in awe so he quickly snaps a few pictures and scurries away pretending he didn’t do shit 🤫

“sit down.” you command, pointing to the space in front of you. atsushi squints at you, suspicion in him growing the more he looks at your smiling face. “why…” but he’s learned that you probably won’t answer his question so he just obeys

next thing he knows, he has multiply braids and pigtails in his hair🧍🏻‍♀️

“WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BANGS 😱”

“i made you look so pretty didn’t i (▰˘◡˘▰)”

he looks in the mirror, horrified. and he’s horrified because it doesn’t look half bad which is concerning him because why are you even more talented when you’re drunk help

“such a pretty boy. so cute you’re so beautiful.” you smile, squishing both his cheeks and booping his nose. “stawph…” he is hating it but loving every second of it he’ll never forget any of this it’s permanently burned in his mind 🏃🏻‍♀️

once he’s finally gotten the both of you in bed and the lights off, he lets out a breath of relief. he’s so glad he got you home safe, gave you meds, kept you hydrated and comfy, and made it out alive himself. just when he’s about to doze off to sleep, a voice (that’s creepily close to his ear) wakes him up. he shoots his eyes open to the familiar tone.

“i live in your walls, atsushi~ ♡” ◕ ◡ ◕

“i thought you were asleep, y/n T-T” he’s sobbing.

tag list; @viintom-exe @starglow-xx @griefgender @pickleisrandom @ijustwantfreenetflix @atsushisgf @the-wholesome-ranpo @missshrek @todorokichills @astreankitsune @spoopy-fish-writes @fyodamn @missrown @trashykawahq @scul-pted @gogolyouwhat @jessbeinme15 @bakajinko @shinys-bsd-world-2 @n1kolaiz @greenshirtimagines @wontonjaegerchan @atsushiscocksucker @mushroomplantasia @internetkilledtheroxstar @fashionablyfailing12 @chuuyasboots @bsdparadise @alittlesimp @requiem626k @bsdwhore @3-am-depression @diary-of-a-poltergeist @mars-w0rld @rirk-ke @melloshotgf @kiyokoxd @coveringthebiconissue @hazel0723 @mysticstrawberryballoon @colourless-cora @bbytamaki @nameless-shrimp @meatbun-aku

of course, you understood how hard it must be for him to love you without any hesitation or fear. hed lived a dangerous life, a life where hed lost everyone hed ever loved. it was only natural that that fear carried over to you, causing him to question sometimes whether or not he should risk the heartbreak should anything happen to you.

and even still, through all of it, you loved him unconditionally. because you knew deep down, he loved you too. he just wouldnt ever be able to stand losing you.

today was one of those days. distant days. days where dazai ignored you and almost didnt exist. usually, youd be able to do your own work and carry on until hed come up to you and wrap you so close to his body and apologize.

but today was different. you were struggling. youd been on a case with ranpo and itd be the most horrific thing youd ever witnessed. a brutal murder of an innocent teenage girl by the one she trusted most: her best friend, her partner in crime, her boyfriend. foul play was suspected by the police force but only confirmed once ranpo and you had arrived on the scene. though he was charged guilty but also given a lenient sentence due to a third party, it all still made you so sick to your stomach that you couldnt even eat that night.

you needed dazai. you needed to hold him. you needed to be near him. most of all, you needed reassurance that he would never do anything to hurt you. that he loved you.

but, unfortunately, you wouldnt be getting that. any of it.

“osamu—“ you stumbled into your bedroom, holding your stomach. the images of the day flashed in your head and you clapped a hand over your mouth.

your eyes scanned the room for dazai but found no trace of him. frowning, you made your way to the bathroom and bent over the toilet, praying you wouldnt throw up. you couldnt. thatd gross you out and youd never stop throwing up.

a thud from the main room caused you to finally release the toilet and stand. you found dazai laid back on the couch, headphones over his ears and his eyes closed.

relief flooded your body and you made your way over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck and crying into his shoulder. beneath you he was tense and stiff, unsure what to do.

so rarely did he ever see you in such a state that he didnt know what to think of it. in fact, he was scared out of his mind. scared that the reason as to why you were so broken down was maybe because of him.

had he done something? had he said something? had he hurt you?

panic surged through him and he jolted away from you, much to your surprise. your eyes searched his face as he pushed his headphones down.

neither of you spoke a single word.

he was terrified. he wanted out.

you were heartbroken. you wanted him.

dazai shifted down the couch, and bent over his knees, staring at the floor. you could no longer see his face and perhaps that was a good thing. because the expression on his face was one of disgust, panic, and anger. disgust at himself. panic at you. and anger at whatever had made you cry.

by then youd begun to realize that it was one of those days. that it had been your mistake to reach for him like that when he was so obviously lost in his own little world. you sobbed even more and hugged your knees to your chest.

you couldnt even muster an “im sorry” though you had no reason to be apologizing to him. dazai watched as you stifled your cries and his heartbroke at the sight.

he got up and sunk down next to you, engulfing you in his body and holding you close to your chest.

“im sorry. ill do better.”

and it was those words that made you realize that he would never dare hurt you. never on purpose. because he loved you to the point where if he hurt you, hed hate himself for the rest of his life.

Your first friend, your first wound, your first fight, your first day-out; it all took place in this land of vast greenery dusted yellow by blackeyed susans, corn marigold and bird's-foot trefoil.

It is all thanks to the adventurous, little blonde boy in front of you.

“Why are you staring, Y/N?” Denki said, nudging you.

“Just looking at the flowers, that’s all.”

A good lie, Y/N - a skilful lie.

He looked at your finger, eyeing it. Soon your hands were in his, the soft pad of his fingers trailing on the small lines of your hands. Each crevice was examined by that soft gaze of his, playing with your soft skin. His finger stopped at the scar painted on the fleshy part of your palm, a sulk forming on his lips.

“Was this from that time I dared you to jump from that tree?” He asked, guilt laced in his whispers.

It was, but you didn’t want him to know.

“Don’t worry, Denks - it wasn’t from that dare,” you say as you take your hands away from his grip, “I picked up a rock and there was a sharp end and it cut through my skin.”

He pulled your hand back into his, stretching the skin around the scar. He tried looking for clues to make sure you weren’t lying, a stressed look evident on his face.

You chuckled, gripping the side of his cheek and pinching it.

He looked at your radiant smile and all his worries washed away.

He let go of your hand and gripped your cheek in his left hand. His thumb began to rub small circles on your cheek, admiring how you leaned into his touch.

He loved how you were so at peace and calm when you were with him. You had no qualms in wasting hours listening to his dreams and aspirations, intervening once in a while to expand on his little ideas.

But you - right now, like this - is his favourite of it all.

You looked like an angel, the light from the Sun lighting your soft skin. The flowers and the very ends of your hair softly swished against the wind, forming such beautiful scenery as he took in the view unravelling in front of him.

He wondered how those flowers would look against your fingers, your hair, your ears…

He wondered how you’d look dripping in flowers.

“Sit down.”

Denki eyed the ground beneath him, looking for flowers that reminded him of you. The softness you brought, the light mood you formed whenever you were around him, the warmth you radiated whenever you were with him - he kept it all in his head as he saw the flowerbeds filled with flowers of different species.

His eyes stopped at the Black-eyed Susans that swished with the wind.

He instantly grabbed handfuls of the dainty-looking flower, hoping he had enough for the idea he had in his head.

Using his long nails, he cut the stem of the flower right down in the middle. He split one of the sections again, making three strips out of a stem. He then slowly began to braid the stems together, weaving them into a long strip.

“Stick your ring finger out, Y/N.”

You let him wrap that small strap around your finger, a determined gaze focused on the base of it.

He then inserted the end of the weaved strip into a section of the strip, securing its shape.

He took the rest of the flowers he collected and put them in his pocket as he walked behind you.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“Let me do this! I have an idea,” he said, happiness lacing his words.

In a huff of annoyance, you agreed.

He began to braid the two front pieces of your hair, slowly adding the flowers he collected. He made sure that the stems were hidden behind your luscious hair. Once he finished braiding them both, he brought them to the back of your head, tying them together with the hair tie on your wrist.

“Are you finally done?” You ask, turning to face him.

You stared at his eyes focused on you, a small blush dusting his cheeks.

Angel.

“Yeah. Thanks for letting me do this, Y/N,” he replied, covering his cheeks with his arm.

You looked like an angel to him. The way your eyes twinkled, your soft lips, your cute nose, your soft skin, your gaze - it was all so perfect to him.

“Y/N,” he started, “Promise me when we get older, we’ll marry each other?”

Your eyes widen as you quickly stand up in shock.

“The hell, Denki?!” You felt blood rushing to your cheeks, “You just can’t say that!”

“I think you’re the only one that can handle me - after all, you’re still here,” he says as he rubs his chin.

“Denki, life doesn’t work like that.”

“And you know how my life is going to work? Knowing me, I’d be single until I’m 23-years old if we don’t make this promise. I’d most probably have a sugar baby-”

“Stop,” you say, holding back your laughter, “Is that your plan if you don’t get into a relationship by 23?”

“...maybe.”

You began laughing, clutching onto your stomach as you stared at him.

“Stop laughing, okay!” he says, annoyed.

“Well, at least you have goals-”

“Y/N!” He says, hitting your back.

You take a deep breath as you recollect your thoughts.

Maybe a life with him won’t be so bad.

“If I can prevent you from thinking of being a sugar daddy that early in life, then sure; we can get married.”

He smiled, grabbing your hands.

“Thank you, Y/N!”

You both hold hands as you walk out of the meadow.

“I’m picturing you with a college girl at 65-year-”

“Stop.”

.

.

.

“You’re finally back!” said Denki as he jumped into your arms.

“Yeah, I am.”

You looked at the now pro-hero in your hands. You chuckled when you felt his small grip on the back of your loosely fit university hoodie. He pressed his head against your chest, nuzzling into the soft cotton. A small hum left his lips as you ruffled his blonde hair - signalling how comfortable he felt in your hands.

God, you missed him - it felt so wrong to leave him right after graduating from UA.

However, you have become a skilled inventor - no one could doubt that. Thanks to the guidance of David Shield, you’ve made your name in the inventing world. You came back to Mustafu to build your brand - hopefully alongside your childhood friend.

“So, Chargebolt,” you teased, “Congrats on getting into the top 10 of the Hero chart! I was shocked when I found out that you - of all people - got in.”

“Hey,” He hit the back of your head, “I’m a good hero, okay?”

“I sense favouritism but okay,” you teased again.

“Not very good of you as an up and coming inventor to tease a pro-hero.”

“So the friend label is gone? Understood, sir. Have a great day,” you say as you push him off of you.

“Fine, fine, fine. Come in.”

You walk into Denki’s new apartment and a flush of memories come.

You eyed the small pictures he hung on the wall, the little trinkets he kept on his coffee table and the way he arranged his kitchen. It all reminded you of his former home - the home near that little meadow.

You miss it - you both did.

You took out the little flower ring he made all those years ago and placed it in his hands.

“Remember this?” You ask.

“You kept it?” He said, smiling, “I can’t believe you did!”

“Yeah. I book-pressed it the minute I went back,” you say, chuckling, “Y’know, I still think about that little promise we made in that meadow from now and then.”

“What promise?”

You eyed the metal band around his ring finger.

He remembers - he definitely remembers. After all, he was the one who made you agree to it.

“You didn’t tell me we were having guests, Denki.”

Your eyes fell to Jirou walking out of a room and wrapping her arms around his waist from the back. She pressed her head against his neck, her hair brushing against it. He smiled, leaning into the newfound warmth she gave.

You saw the same metal ring around her left ring finger. The same gem, the same design, the same shape - everything.

“I forgot to tell you, didn’t I? I’m engaged to Jirou! - We’re getting married later this year.”

Of course, he forgot. It was just a simple promise you both made when you were kids. It meant nothing - nothing at all.

“I’m happy for you, Denki - I really am.”

You really were.

You are happy that he finally met someone who loved him despite seeing all his flaws.

You are happy Jirou managed to see what you saw in Denki - a loveable, amazing soul with a heart of gold.

You just wished you didn’t hold onto that promise.

You wish you threw away that rotting ring when you had the chance.

You wish you never went to that meadow.

You wish you never met Denki - not like that.

You wish you never fell in love with him.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Denki said as he hugged you again.

You don’t want him to hug you.

You wanted distance - you wanted to go back to I-Island.

You don’t want to be here.

You tried to pry Denki off of you, but you couldn’t - his grip on you was too strong.

“Denki, you’re choking me,” you say whilst fake-laughing.

You looked at Jirou who smiled at his display of affection towards you.

She trusts you - she knows how much you mean to him.

You don’t deserve it - her trust is wasted on you.

You are in love with her future husband - the very person who is hugging you as tight as they can.

“Denki, they look so uncomfortable - get off,” she said, patting her shoulder.

You want to get out of here.

You need to.

“I think I’ll head to my hotel room, Denks,” you say as you grab your bags.

“But-”

“Denki,” you say as you push him off of you angrily, “I need to go, ok?”

You look at his torn expression and guilt hits you.

But it was his fault - all of this was.

He isn’t meant to cry - you are.

And here he is, tearing just at the sight of your angry expression.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did something happen? You seemed okay when you came earlier…”

Stop crying, Denki.

“There’s nothing wrong, Kaminari. I just need to check into my hotel room, that’s all.”

Kaminari.

“Do you want me to drive you there? I-”

“It’s okay, Kaminari. I’ll get a cab.”

Kaminari.

“Y/N, we’re good, right?”

“Why would you think we aren’t, Kaminari?”

Kaminari.

You walked out of their apartment, tears trailing down your eyes.

.

.

.

You stood in the meadow you met Kaminari, eyes closed. You took in the fresh air brushing against your skin as the smell of fresh flowers invades your nose. Your now long hair felt weightless as the wind lifted it, giving you wings.

“How do I look, Y/N?”

You stared at Denki in his black tux and smiled.

He looked amazing, as usual.

His skin looked amazing against the obsidian-coloured suit. The sunlight hit his skin so well it looked like it was glowing. His hair was tousled, giving you a full view of his undercut. You chuckled when you saw the black streak of his hair hidden under his natural yellow hair - it looked as if he was trying to hide his foolish mistakes when he was a kid. You looked at his small piercing now adorned with a purple gem, reminding you of his fiance.

He’s finally getting married.

He’s getting married in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

He’s getting married to someone else in the meadow where you both spent your younger years.

“You look good, Kaminari.”

“Why are you calling me Kaminari? Call me Denki.”

“I can’t, Kaminari.”

It would bring back too many memories.

Painful memories.

“I don’t know why you can’t, though?”

“It doesn’t feel right…”

“You’ve been calling me Denki or Denks ever since we were kids, Y/N! Hearing you call me Kaminari sounds wrong…”

“Leave it, Kaminari,” you say, hiding your feelings behind a laugh.

“No, I won’t. Call me Denks, Y/N.”

Stop.

“Later, Kaminari.”

“Not Kaminari - Denki.”

Stop.

“I promise I’ll call you that later, now go get ready.”

“I am not leaving until you call me Denki.”

Stop.

“Kaminari, just go.”

“I don’t know why you stopped calling me Denki ever since you saw Jirou that day - it doesn’t make sense. You were my first friend that called me Denks, you made that nickname - Why are you calling me by the nickname you made?”

Stop talking about it, please.

“Please, Kaminari - let it go.”

He grabbed your wrist, pulling you towards him.

“I won’t until you tell me why. Did I do something wrong? Just tell me, Y/N. You know I won’t hate you no matter what happens.”

“Just drop it, ok?” You say, anger lacing your words.

“Oh my god, Y/N! Just tell me-”

“Fine.”

You forced your wrist out of his grip, making him fall on the couch.

“You wanna know why? It’s because I thought you remembered the promise we made as kids. I hoped you felt the way I did about it; I hoped you knew why I never got into a relationship.”

You gripped your phone tightly, not wanting to lash out at him anymore.

Why did you do that? Why today?

He’s supposed to be happy today.

“What promise, Y/N?”

A dark smile graced your lips.

What were you thinking? Shouting at him won’t make him remember.

Tears began to fall from your eyes as you lifted your face to see his worried face.

“It’s okay, Kaminari - don’t worry about it.”

“How can I not? You’re crying in front of me,” he said, tears forming in his eyes, “You weren’t meant to cry today.”

You weren’t either, Denki.

He got off the couch and began to hug you tightly. He pressed your head against his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

“Please don’t cry, Y/N.”

You gently push Denki and cup his face in your hands. You rub the tears from his eyes as he pressed his cheek onto your left hand.

“You okay, Denks?”

Just for today, you’ll give what he wants.

Just today.

“There it is!” He said, jumping on you, “Don’t you dare call me anything but Denks again.”

“Mhmm.”

You hugged him one last time before heading to your seat, waiting for the ceremony to commence.

.

.

.

You saw how happy he stood at the altar with Kirishima by his side. You chuckled as you looked at the small banter happening between the two of them, pissing off the priest slightly. Bakugo snapped at the two of them very often, telling them to keep quiet.

Still the mother of the group.

Soon after, Jirou walked in.

She wore a white dress that tugged on her amazing figure, surrounded by lace. Dandelions surrounded her, flying in the air, encasing her in pure beauty. They danced around her as her orchestra of young kids sang and played instruments for her.

You saw how tears formed in both of their eyes as they stared at each other.

Tears of joy encapsulating how much they’ve dreamed of this moment.

While yours that showed joy hid everlasting longing.

You feel cheated - not by Denki, but the black-eyed Susans that tickled your feet.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans that cleared a path for Jirou to meet her beloved.

You feel cheated by the black-eyed Susans Denki used when he was young to make you that damn ring.

Not huge on pda, doesn’t mind it

But affection does fluster him pretty badly

Especially public affection

He likes to connect your pinky with his

It’s a subtle action but affective nonetheless

PLAY WITH HIS HAIR ‼️

Doesn’t matter if your styling it or washing it

He just loves the feeling of your fingers running through his hair

Is very gentle with you

His hold on you is always so subtle and tender

Doesn’t want to accidentally hurt you

I sure do hope you love animals!

Because he does

Introduces you to his pets and takes the interaction very seriously

It’s a test of character in some sense

Doesn’t like to cry around you

He feels like it’s a bothersome thing and would rather not burden you with it

Please let him know that it’s okay to cry and show emotion

He does slowly start to open up to you

Telling you about his nightmares and ranting about his regretted past

Also introduces you to takemichi

Platonic partner meets romantic partner

Instant friends

You help Hina with the marriage preparations

Speaking of marriage!

He knows your the person he wants to marry

But despite knowing that, he still holds off on proposing

He has some trauma tied to marriage due to his parents

That added onto him being insecure and nervous

Yeahh it takes him a while to actually pop the question

Don’t even get me started on having kids with him 💀

It scares you, the uncertainty riddled between your brushing knees as you wait for the final bus to arrive. You need him, you need him to guide you home. But he is home, isn’t he? You need him to lace your fingers together, albeit with your pinkies interlocked if that’s all he wanted- you need him to need you. To want you, to breathe you in and exhale you out as someone better. Something better.

Hitoshi’s cheekbones are high despite the soft layer of roundness across his face, with some sort of natural highlight that leaves Mina glowing an emerald shade of green with jealousy. His head turns away from you, high cheekbones and all, as he buries his face into the thin layer of fabric that makes up the hood of his jacket. He was- is- in all sense of the word, perfection.

Asphalt cracks beneath your sneakers when he walks you home. It’s a quiet walk, the two of you too busy constructing plausible conversation starters in your head instead of actually saying anything out loud. But that’s okay, the music leaking from Hitoshi’s headphones fills the gaps between you and your inability to understand social graces anyway. He spares a few glances towards you, eyes glimmering under the streetlamps decorating the sidewalk, and you deem that as enough.

He tries to match you up to his favorite song,the one that’s currently filling his head.. Do you feel like he does as he listens to it? Does he want to play you on loop until he gets a headache, do you reach the part of his brain that’s only rarely found— do sparks go off in his chest when he listens to you? He flickers his lavender gaze your way, oxygen pulled from his throat the second his eyes make contact with you.

The yellow light illuminates off his cheek, almost as light as the feeling of his knuckles brushing against your own. Quickly. he cranes his neck impossibly far, clenching and unclenching his fist as if the expression on his face might change your perception of him forever.

He claims he isn’t doing it for you, that your house is just in the same direction as his own, but you know he lives on the other side of town. Hitoshi is sweet in his own way, footsteps dipped in honey as he trails behind you, always finding loopholes to brush off any kind of uncharacteristic kindness as something else. His feet only barely step above the ground, raking lazily beneath his weight until he, finally, catches up to your pace. Not that you’re much faster than him.

He’s always been one step behind.

It’s obvious he thinks so, it’s obvious he’s chanted cruel mantras to himself in the past to back up his beliefs. It plagues him, buries thorns inside his veins and blocks off any clear path of rationality that even tries to reach his brain. Hitoshi believes he’s incapable, incapable of becoming a hero. A smart one at that. Incapable of proving just about everyone wrong— and if he can’t, what does he have left?

Because he walks the slowest, he assumes he’s always behind.

The moon is hidden behind clouds of grey, thick and threatening as they slowly coarse through the wide, navy blue sky. Hitoshi finally pulls his face away from the shadows of the towering trees, squinting up at the sky. Even with direct light shining in his face, his dark circles seem darker than ever.

“It’s going to rain.” He says dumbly, eyebrows knitting together almost immediately after pointing out his observation. Like he regrets saying it. Like he wants you to think of him a certain way. He’s unsure of how to verbalize that, unsure how to twist his words into the perfect poem that you immediately understand- resonate with and remember. He settles for silence, pursing his pink lips with wallowing frustration. Scratching his earlobe with clipped nails, Hitoshi rubs at the fragile skin until it goes red. Just a nervous habit, that’s all.

Even then, you entertain his statement, looking up at the sky with newfound interest. Genuine interest. The twinkling stars remind you of Hitoshi, the brightest star catching your eye almost immediately. A dark arrangement of blue and black- even purple in some places— you can’t help but think about him. A beautiful boy built from stardust, collected from the Cosmos and put together as stars aligned on his sleeve…a flaming ball of determination and will, passion and love. Brighter than the rest. Complete and utter perfection, that was Hitoshi Shinso.

“Yeah...” You reply, just as academic as ever.

You wondered if his heart was the same. And, in your own bout of selfishness, you wondered how much space you’d take up within it.

“I love you.” You whisper to yourself, the confession disappearing into the night immediately after breathing it out. Even if Hitoshi heard you, he doesn’t point it out.

“I love you too.” You hope he whispers back, a secret between the two of you to hold and cherish until your kindling flame is burned out. Until you’re left to fend in the dark together, hand in hand. Heart to heart. And there’d be enough light bursting through your chest to light up an entire stadium.

But he doesn’t.

Your gaze flickers across the sky, dark pupils dilated as you witness a tango between constellations, one shooting star leaving behind a trail of itself after another. Beautiful, the way it reflects off your wide eyes. Beautiful, the way Hitoshi lights up as the sky dances for him. He was merely an insignificant speck in the forever expanding universe, but, even then, it was built for him. Always for him.

That was the part of Hitoshi that you adored. When he let go of his facade, when he broke down the walls of his falsely inflated ego and looked back at you with relaxed, lavender eyes. Deep inside, you knew he was just like you. A teenage boy, with faults and weaknesses. A teenage boy who yearned for acceptance. Oh, what you’d do to offer that to him.

Your knuckles brush once more, sending jolts of electricity through your spine. This time Hitoshi makes no feverish movements, he keeps his hand by his side as he stares at the open sky, past the clouds, and straight to the shower of stars. He wonders where they’re headed, what they’ll hit and if they ever crash; he wonders where his relationship with you is headed, he wonders if it’s even a relationship at all.

Hitoshi trails next to you, knocking his hand against the warmth of your own— so soft — until you catch the hint and perk up. Even the smallest of gestures has you smiling, a slight bounce in your step as you look down at his bruised knuckles. Despite the swirls of black and blue, they look inviting. Like they were made for you. Like Hitoshi was made for you.

Only this time, he locks your pinkies together.

Hitoshi Shinsou loved you. He knows he does, with how light bursted deep within his chest as he looked at you. Your inviting eyes, a beautiful mixture of warmth and stability and all things soothing. You look at him with all-seeing, omniscient eyes that pierce through his soul in the very area he stands. You’re everything he loved, and, yet, everything he loathed. All in-between and outside, every missing part of him could be found within you.