I Feel Like Bakugou Only Does Fwb Because Mina Tries To Explain To His Wound Up Ass That Sometimes Adults

bakugo fluff to heal the soul!

bakugo katsuki was fuming in his seat.

it’s not necessarily strange for him to be doing so, but normally it was due to the antics of kirishima and kaminari that gets him all riled up. this time though? it was you.

it all started the moment you stepped foot into the classroom because as soon as mina noticed you, she was already shouting her heart out at this hour of the morning (not that the time mattered much to bakugo because he wanted her to shut up at all times of the day).

but it was what she said that ticked him off even more.

“y/n! you’ve got an admirer!”

bakugo katsuki had to watch in slow-fucking-motion how your face lit up in a (beautiful) smile that almost had his anger raging as wildly as his explosions because it wasn’t him that was making you smile like that.

it wasn’t his love letter that had you giggling and flustered, it wasn’t his bouquet of flowers that you were fawning over and it wasn’t his box of sweets that you were admiring. only he had the right to make you feel like that. 

bakugo is brought out of his misery with the familiar voice of a certain red-haired. “oi! thought you’d never confess to y/n, finally grew a pair?” kirishima asked, bending down to match the blond’s seated position. 

bakugo scowls harder as he gruffly murmured, “that wasn’t me.”

“oh man! really?” kirishima looked back at your desk, noticing the gentle way that you were handling the gifts, setting them down on the floor beside you. “i guess y/n is popular, better shoot your shot before it’s too late.”

small explosions spark from bakugo’s palms as he screams, “i know, dumbass!” 

for the rest of school he had to witness the dazed, delicate expression you wore, paired with a gentle smile that never seemed to fade from your lips the whole day. he even found you fiddling with the card you received, reading it over for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. 

bakugo could write a better one. 

and if that wasn’t enough, he had to watch the way you held the gifts closely in your arms, cradled protectively to your chest as you tried to preserve their sacredness, hearing about how you were going to ‘put the flowers on my windowsill. they’ll be so pretty!’. 

he was going to blast those stupid floras into pieces, not understanding why you were feeling so special over some stupid extra’s ‘chivalrous’ actions because you deserved far better.

and you better fucking believe that he could make you smile wider than anyone else 

that’s what he did, knocking on your door ferociously the next day, bakugo katsuki was holding an even bigger bouquet of arranged flowers, far more grand than the small one you received yesterday, as well as some of your favourite pastries from the local bakery that you always took him to. and as a card? well, it was him. did you need any more? 

was his heart racing because of nerves or because of spite? he didn’t know.

“coming!” your voice comes from the other side of the door and sure enough, the telltale sign of a door unlocking reaches bakugo’s ears. you greet him with a smile, “oh, hey! bakugo- whoa, that is a big bouquet of flowers.”

“‘s for you,” he grumbles, unable to look away from your expression, gauging for a reaction. you’re silent for a moment before pointing at yourself. 

a weak ‘me?’ slips past your mouth.

“who else, dumbass? you’re the only one worthy of fuckin’ flowers.”

he dumps them in your arms and you gape at him. “wait- was it you that gave me-”

“nope, but you best believe i outdid them.”

you laugh, a sound that bakugo has grown to cherish over the time you’ve spent together. with a softer, adoring look in your eyes, bakugo thinks he’s reached the peak of life as you meet his gaze. “thank you, bakugo,” you say quietly but there’s something in your voice that tells him that you’re trying to keep your giddiness on the low. he can tell in the way that you marvel at the flowers with a wondrous expression, holding them to your heart.

he scoffs, not in a dismissive way, but in a manner of content.

“oi, i’m takin’ you out tomorrow night, on a date.” bakugo tells you and your chest flutters in the way that it always does when you’re around him. “you’re always pretty so i don’t need to tell you this, but dress nice.”

you beam at him and his heart stutters, “‘kay, only for you though.”

“don’t say shit like that!” the blush on bakugo’s face tells you enough as he stomps away.

he’s happy when you send him a picture of his flowers that sit pretty on your windowsill.

The Onion’s journalism is the only journalism that matters. Holy fuck.

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

i wanna eat him <3

songs i associate the truly devious squad with:

david eastman king

He said screw it

There's a big crowd looking

I'ma scream when no one, when no one, when no one's around

i hc our resident irritating(ly handsome) daddy issues boy to be an ajr fan because if you tell me you can’t see him with humpty dumpty by ajr on loop while he pours over speeches or campaign stuff (so knowledgeable i know) in his dingy little motel room that he picked and paid for himself (proudly) tapping his (incredibly long and slender !!) fingers on the brown and slightly stained desk (better not to think into that) and smiling at the line about weird friends and stilling his fingers when some random pattern of notes strung together or some verse of the song reminds him of stevie and smiling a embarrassing boyish happy grin because he’s alone and the smirks are reserved for stevie? you’re lying.

also because it feeds the robin hood type rebel (i’ll explain later) inside of him i mean have you heard the song it makes me want to skateboard around the city and spray peace and love sayings on the subway stations because it’s got that badum badum you’re a bad boy but also badam badam you’re only being a bad boy to your very bad daddy so you’re actually just a good boy with a bad boy attitude that also makes your very intelligent and slightly murder obsessed crush blush

nate fisher

But I don't need comfort

I don't want to talk

So could you tell me that it's over

Tell me that it's over

i’m thinking the wallows for our true watson and he might not even connect or relate to the lyrics but i think he likes the tune and this song especially because sometimes that’s him and he just wants to be alone and don’t get me wrong he loves stevie and janelle and david  but sometimes the stress of his stupid stupid book and everything just gets to him more than he jokes about it and he’ll just sit in his room and have this on and just kinda (aggressively and satisfyingly) close all his tabs and push the book away and just sit on the rug with his head against the mattesss with one of those nifty heating by oxidizing iron inside of the pocket eye patches that smell like soft citrus and happiness(don’t laugh i love them and you all need to get them now) that janelle insisted on him having (after vi bought a 500 pack off of amazon that he scoffed at but now secretly by from vi who happily supplies him with it since it gives them an excuse to buy more) and stretches his fingers out after a long day of not typing and tries to pretend he’s not thinking of mudge

stevie bell

But we might just get away with it

Religion's in your lips

Even if it's a false god

We'd still worship

our loveable murder muffin i believe is either a swiftie or a rock lover but since i don’t listen to rock (don’t start) and the depressingly small truly devious community is mostly caffeinated swifties i’ve hced stevie with the song false god 

i also think this song reminds her of meeting david and their rocky (to say the least) journey to being more than friends (thanks maureen it was a ship we needed) which always makes her blush every time especially when she remembers their first kiss and in her words all that rolling and also it just relaxes her because sometimes she’ll get too riled up to sleep when she’s listening to her true crime podcasts and solving them before the narrator does so she kinda just has this on loop to drift off because overall it’s got a nice background music quality to it and we all know how stevie’s brains gotta have center stage when she’s solving all her lovely who dunnit mysteries

an added bonus slash thingamajigger that the (very prominent) background saxophone reminds her of ellie and even though it’s a painful memory it helps her remember her friends and remind herself she’s not alone and she is loved and sometimes sometimes she’ll take ellie’s advice given on one of those champagne filled (ellie) nights and just imagine she’s strolling down a street in paris (the capital of crime and death) with david in a crewneck holding her hand and sharing an earbud with her while she pretends not to blush and he pretends not to notice

janelle franklin 

Crawlin’ back to you

Ever thought of callin’ when

You’ve had a few?

’Cause I always do

the one that all of us are lowkey or highkey like me jealous of because how come she has a hobby that she’s devoted to and good at and an s/o and she looks good and is organized and good with kids. how come??

moving on

in my mind she likes arctic monkeys because the beat and the stuff of the song (you understand) just reminds me of her hammering it up in minerva’s brand new workshop with it pulsing in her ears to the beat of the buzz of the machine and her getting a little lost in the lyrics every now and then when she’s really missing vi

also 100% sure she is obsessed with miley cyrus’s version of why do you only call me when you’re high 

also because i feel like when she’s going to bed and she’s got her headphones plugged into her ears she (like stevie) uses it to help sleep and the tune is just comforting and she can kinda just close her eyes and experience the soft angst 

vi harper-tomo

Quiet is the city air on a summer night after it rains Faster than a bolt of lightning The speed of a Japanese bullet train (train) And you know, it's always trying to stay awake (stay awake)

i’m gonna have to go with lyn lapid for them because a) producer mans really got a good feminist + fuck the money sucking trying to survive girl exploiting men vibe but b) i’ve decided to go with this song because it’s really soft which i think is indie enough in my previously headcanoned indie rock vi and i also think it reminds them of janelle and how happy she makes them. and honestly i see them doing that tiktok thing inside of their head while the “if only you knew part” plays and seeing snapshots of memories with janelle flash through their head as well as their adventures in vietnam and at minerva house with janelles weird friends and i think they really do appreciate the memories and this song kind of brings them all out. i also think that this is either their ringtone or that they’ve learned to play this on an instrument (violin <3)and when they played it for janelle she cried

element “ellie” walker

I will leave you notes 

Je te laisserai des mots 

under your door 

En-dessous de ta porte 

Below the singing walls 

En-dessous de les murs qui chantent 

Close to where your feet pass 

Tout près de la place où tes pieds passent 

could never forget our ellie of course, and i know we all think know she’s a swiftie but i do think she enjoys this and not just because she’s an avid lover of french but also because she likes the lyrics and it’s one of the rare tunes that she’s learned to carry on roota and it’s one of the even rarer tunes that people don’t seem to mind her playing on roota 

i feel like it’s a good arting (shh) song for her and also she listens to it in her bathtub with a bottle of champagne in her left hand and a paintbrush in her right dabbing at the canvas she’s got set up with the bottom half of the easel in the warm pinkish water dyed with pink rose smelling bath salts david got her for her birthday

mudge

and it was not your fault but mine

but it was your heart on the line

i really fucked it up this time

didn’t i my dear?

i don’t know why mudge enjoys this song in terms of lyrics but i do see him liking the tune of it and imagining himself in disney in the 90s with this playing in the dingy cafe where he has his coffee before putting on his mickey suit, he definitely also thinks of nate and folds little paper flowers for him while listening to this song 

omfg yes yes and yes and also he pretends not to be sad realllyyyy really hard but sometimes its just too much and when yall first moved in together (!!) and he was crying in the bathroom hiding you went in and kissed his forehead (gojo melt moment) and held him and sat on the cold tile cradling his head and didnt say anything sarcastic or stupid or anything actually and just sat w him until he started talking to you abt his feelings

AND he was so embarrassed afterwards he tried to make it up to you and apologize for wasting your time and you smacked him in the face (!!!!) and scolded him for thinking that way and he felt SO LOVED 🥰

i feel like gojo would be in a ‘hot chocolate x green tea’ relationship.. his partner is very funny but more of the sarcastic humor and he pretends to be offended but he never actually is. his partner is his sense and is the person who tells him to stop eating so many sweets and maybe get in some protein, makes sure that he sleeps well and tells him not to take missions when he’s sleepy. and when they do all this he wants to cry because he never got that time when he was babies becs he had to grow up so quickly. his partner his this older , mature energy about them and it makes him feel so different- not like he has to impress anyone or have anybody’s back. because hes finally being taken care of with no strings attached, and it feels so good to him. OH LETS NOT FORGET HOW HE WILL BE THE KINDEST PERSON EVEN TO HIS PARTNER!! because they’ve done all this for him and he wants to now buy you the entire earth or say the most disgustingly kind things to you.

like if you so much as tell him to have a good day , to be careful and that you love him he stops dead in his tracks and goes. , “thank you !! i love you more!! you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me!! byebye yn!!” while he’s walking out , and his voice is getting farther and farther but he’s also getting louder because you MUST know how special you are. the good you’ve done. how much of a good person you are. you HAVE TO. and don’t get me started when you’re sad. because when he’s sad he doesn’t know how to express it properly so he makes these atrocious jokes that leave you so concerned, but you still comfort him anyway, and he loves you so much for it. so he’ll hug you a tight but doesn’t know what to say at all😭. so he’s holding you and rocking you side to side and just saying , “i’m here, it’s alright, i’m right here,” because that’s all he really knows how to do but he PRAYS that it’s enough for you because he will literally wither away if it isn’t. gojo n his more emotionally smart, mature but still chaotic partner </33

aND LASTLY. everyone hates when you two are together because it’s so chaotic , you can’t even get out a sentence because every word you seem to say has some kind of dumb ass inside joke or something. like you once read a book that mentioned a baseball bat being heavy and he was so distraught . he kept going ,” heavy????? 😏 baseball bat???????? 😏” and now whenever anyone brings it up or it’s on tv you both topple over laughing. megumi is done cus he thought you were supposed to be the mature one 😕😕😕💔💔

This is not from your fic but could you do a small scenario of Nanami interacting with his baby? I swear those dad!Nanami headcanons made me so soft

okay i was going to write a scenario with a baby baby but then this kinda hit me and i had to go with it instead!

wc is ~1k bc i'm down bad for dad!nanami

gn!reader, unnamed daughter, hint of angst but mostly fluff (i think)

"Tadaima!" you call, kicking off your shoes with a sigh and nudging them to the side. They splay out beside Nanami's shoes, neatly tucked away.

There's no patter of little feet scrambling to the genkan. No soft, pleased rumble of okaeri as louder footsteps follow in their wake. You fish out your phone.

Nanami picks up on the second ring, his stoic greeting softened by the way it sounds when he calls you sweetheart.

"Where'd you go?" you ask.

He sighs. "I left a note."

"I didn't read it."

"Clearly," he says, but his voice is warm, all summer honey. "We're at the park. We'll head home in a few minutes."

"What, I don't get to have fun at the park?"

He sighs again, heavier this time. You bite down on your laugh. "Come join us, then," he says.

"I'll be there in just a minute."

He pauses. "She wanted to go to Hanegi."

"You're a sucker," you tell him, slipping your shoes back on.

"I'm aware."

"I'll be there in twenty, then."

He says something muffled. You don't need to hear the words to know he's talking to your daughter; it's in his voice, affection stitched quiet into his tone, a patchwork quilt of love sewn soft on his tongue. She chatters back at him, her voice a burbling spring brook.

"Okay," Nanami says distantly, and then he's clear again as he says, monotone: "Apparently twenty minutes is too long. You're supposed to walk faster."

You snort. "I'll do my best. See you soon."

"See you soon, sweetheart."

You walk to Hanegi, passing by the park just down your street—small but serviceable, the paths to the playground lined with overflowing flowers, their petals crinkled at the edges, summer's last stand.

It's easy to find them when you arrive; the playground has begun to empty as it gets later. You pause for a moment and just watch.

Nanami's on one knee, his broad body dwarfing your daughter. She wiggles in place as he ties her shoe, his big hands deft. You can hear the rumble of his voice as he murmurs to her, but the words are lost in the space between you.

He checks her other shoe before pulling back. Your daughter reaches out and pats him on the cheek with a chubby hand. He catches it and presses a little kiss against her palm before getting to his feet.

He watches her run back to a little circle of children. Nanami can be difficult to read at the best of times, but what sweeps over his face now is stark. It's gone within a breath, but you think you'll never forget it.

"Hi," you say, sidling up to him as he leans down to brush off his knee. "I told you we should get the velcro shoes."

He rolls his eyes. "Then she'll never learn," he says, straightening up and pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your lips.

"Is she learning if you're doing it for her?"

He pinches at your side. Your yelp is half laughter, and he moves out of the way without looking when you try to pinch him back. But then his hand is on your hip, and you lean into the warmth of him. Across the way, your daughter shrieks out a laugh as she chases another little girl.

"When do you leave?" you ask quietly.

His fingers flex on your hip. "Tomorrow morning."

You let out a soft breath. "Okay," you say.

The two of you watch your daughter play—calling out to her at times, until Nanami is roped into pushing her on the swing, with her indifferent to your pout when she shuts down your defense of your pushes in comparison to his—until the promise of night is settling over the horizon.

Nanami calls her name. She comes trotting over, hair mussed and eyes bright. He leans down to take her hand for the walk home, his hand engulfing her tiny one.

You've just made it out of the park when she starts dragging her feet. "Daddy," she says, tugging at his hand. "'M tired."

Nanami raises a brow. "If you want something, you should ask politely," he says, but he's already bending down to sweep her up. He perches her on his hip, cradles her small form to him with excruciating delicacy.

Sucker, you mouth at him. He ignores you.

"Sorry," she grumbles, burying her face into his chest.

He presses a kiss to her hair. It doesn't quite hide the quirk of his lips, and the fondness tucked secret into that small smile swells in you, washes over you like the tide, an endless sea too vast for your body.

"Kento," you say suddenly, breathlessly. "Let's go to the okonomiyaki stall for dinner."

Your daughter perks up immediately, turning her small face towards him, a flower seeking sun.

Nanami glances at you. "We'd be out past her bedtime."

"I know."

He considers you for a moment, his dark eyes knowing. They're mesmerizing in the quickly fading sunlight. "Alright," he says.

Your daughter giggles with delight.

"What do you want in yours?" he asks her, already heading in the direction of the stall, his hand warm at the small of your back, keeping you close.

You barely hear her reply. You're too busy watching them, committing them to memory, from the glint of Nanami's golden hair to the delicate brush of his fingers on her cheeks to the way her cheeks puff out as she squirms.

He pauses for a moment to press his forehead against hers, whispering something too quiet for you to catch. She beams at him, and he smiles back, his fingers tracing little patterns against you, and it feels like coming home.

only | tooru oikawa

pairing: oikawa x reader

tags: fluff, friends to lovers

word count: 2.0k

i'm pretty sure inez is on hiatus so i won't tag her but this was for her :D

“okay,” you nod, laughter leaving your lips as you turn to your friend.

oikawa’s gaze shifts to you at your place around the small fire, “what’s up?”

“you know what i regret about my final year in high school?”

he quirks a brow, “what?”

“that i never got to fall in love.”

a beat of silence follows your words, the fireplace feeling as warm as ever as the two of you on the rooftop of your apartment building. despite summer approaching faster than ever, there was still a chill in the night air, one that made you pull the small blanket draped over your figure closer.

it’s your last week of school, and you and oikawa always had this tradition of sitting on the rooftop, turning on the small fireplace, and just talking. with your busy schedules, especially around the end of the school year, it grew hard for you to see each other. so during your first year, the two of you made a promise to return to the rooftop before your final week of school, to light the fireplace no one else in the apartment building seemed to use and to just talk.

but now it’s your last week ever of high school, the last time you and oikawa would venture up to this rooftop together.

there’s a sense of nostalgia to it, the idea that you might never come back up here with him, the thought that this fireplace would go back to normal and be completely untouched by the other residents in the building. it reminds you a bit too much of your past few years of high school, and what a ride they were.

the boy meets your eyes once more from his place on the adjacent couch, a blanket of his own wrapping his figure and a can of soda in his hand. “what do you mean?”

“it’s just,” you start, eyes flickering towards the calm flames in front of you, “there’s this idea of the perfect high school experience, the perfect boyfriend, the perfect prom date, and the perfect relationship,” you explain. “the two of you go to dinner every week and spend nights at each other’s houses and go on these perfect dates and share umbrellas when its raining.”

“you know that’s just in movies right?” oikawa cuts in.

“i know,” you nod with a small sigh, “most of high school is already romanticized as it is. but,” you pause. “i just wish i got to experience even the real life version of high school love.”

“it’s really nothing special,” oikawa shrugs, taking a sip from his soda can.

“what?” you tease. “your one girlfriend did that much of a number on you?”

“okay enough about her,” he waves off, rolling his eyes as he leans back into his chair. “you and iwa do nothing but tease me when it comes to her.”

“it’s kind of funny in my head,” you think. “you jumped into a relationship with her incredibly quick. you only knew her for what? a month?”

he nods wordlessly.

after all, he’s known you much longer.

“that’s not a lot,” you hum. “i always thought you were the type to approach love rather cautiously.”

oikawa quirks a brow at your words, “really?” you nod. “interesting,” he hums, “how so?”

“i don’t know,” you mumble. “you just seem like the type.”

“what?” he laughs, “you’re just basing this off of some kind of vibe you’re getting?”

“yeah, pretty much,” you mumble. “i mean you’ve got this ego that hides how you truly feel, i kind of assumed it would be the same towards love ya know? like walls hiding away your heart from the one person you truly wanted to give it to.”

and that leaves him at a loss for words.

“sorry,” you mumble, “hit a little too close to home?”

“what do you think?” he questions with an annoyed sigh, but you know there’s no malice behind his words. you knew him better than most, and that involved being quite familiar with the side of him he often hid from others.

“why’d you even date her anyway?” you hum, leaning back into the small chair, gaze still locked on the fire. “i mean you never really brought her up to iwaizumi and i until after you got together.”

“for the same reason why you have regrets,” he lies.

“because you wanted to experience high school love?” you question.

he nods, knowing that if he said anything you’d see right through him. you were the only person that truly could.

his ex’s confession just seemed to line up with when he got supposedly friendzoned by you. he still remembers what you said to iwaizumi that day. platonic soulmate, you called him, the words seemed to ring through his head to this day. he was your platonic soulmate.

but oikawa couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just be your soulmate.

after all, he’d done his best to give you all of the high school experience that you could ask for. you both hung out more often than not, you spent more nights at his house than you probably did at yours, he was your date for dances, even coming up with elaborate posters just to make you smile.

that word platonic just seemed to mock him, it’s a word he just wanted to get rid of it completely from your description of him. you only saw him as a friend, and nothing more. he hoped his ex could help him move on, yet all she did was make him feel worse.

“the worst part of it though was that she dumped me,” he sighs.

“all because of volleyball too,” you hum before looking at him. “i mean she had to have known that you’d spend more time playing volleyball,” you reason. “you’re literally team captain and the star player.”

he shakes his head, “definitely not the star player,” he rather honestly retorts.

“oh shut up, you literally are,” you ignore. “that reasoning though was just...odd.”

that reasoning was a lie.

oikawa told his ex about his feelings for you, and his apology signified the end of the relationship. because even after a couple months of being with someone else, even after a couple months of going on dates, bringing flowers, and loving someone else, he still couldn’t help but think about you. but there was no way he was going to tell you that. so he lied, he lied to the one person who could supposedly see through him.

except you had yet to do so when it came to this.

“it was,” he sighs. “but what can you do? the past is in the past.”

“and we have nothing but the future ahead of us,” you finish before meeting the boy’s gaze, “what about you? have any regrets?”

of course he does.

oikawa nods rather nonchalantly, “i do.”

“do share,” you hum. “but only if you want to of course.”

“i wish i went to nationals at least once,” he mumbles.

“i knew you’d say that,” you sigh. “do you regret going to school here?”

his eyes widen, “what? no, absolutely not,” he answers. “i love it here, it’s where iwa is, it’s where my team is.”

it’s where you are.

and the fact that he leaves that out is another regret he adds to his list.

“i see,” you hum. “it would’ve been nice to watch you guys play at nationals.”

he quirks a brow, “you’d go?”

“of course i would,” you nod. “i mean it’s a free trip to tokyo right?” you laugh.

and oikawa swears it’s music to his ears.

“any more regrets?” he asks you. “you gotta get it all out there before it’s too late right?”

“i have a few,” you hum.

and he hopes that one of them has something to do with him.

after all, he’s running out of time with you, and he still has a couple more things to say to you.

“i wish i asked that guy out myself my first year,” you list. “apparently he liked me back?”

“he did?” oikawa questions a bit louder than he’d like.

“he did,” you smile. “maybe he could’ve been my high school romance.” there’s a beat of silence before you continue. “i wish i didn’t spend all my time at home and went out more, i wish i didn’t ruin things with that one girl, i wish i actually spoke to my friend and fixed things instead of leaving him behind, i wish-”

there are tears in your eyes before you can even realize that you’re rambling, unpacking the baggage you had yet to deal with.

and oikawa’s watching you unravel before his eyes, each “i wish,” sending a chill of his own down his spine.

“i wish,” you sniffle. “i wish i got to see my uncle one more time before he died. i wish i didn’t start that fight with my friend. i wish i didn’t lose as many friends as i did,” you quickly wipe the tears in your eyes, watching oikawa’s face fall at the sight of your tears.

he’s rushing instantly to your side sitting down next to you, the pads of his fingers wipe away your tears. your head rests on his shoulder and his arm instantly goes to your back, pulling you a bit closer.

“i wish,” your voice is soft, it’s shakes and trembles and oikawa swears his heart shatters.

“i wish i told you i love you.”

and now there’s a knot in his stomach.

“i wish i told you sooner.”

it tightens.

and there’s a silence that lingers, one filled with your soft sniffles and the crackling of the fire next to you as oikawa rubs circles into your back. your head still rests on his shoulder, breath a bit more steady as your tears slowly stop, relief washing over you at the fact that you didn’t need to feel anymore regret towards that last item on your list.

you’ve been terrified of telling him for years, constantly watching him being adored by fangirls and wishing you could measure up. it’s quite pathetic, you think to yourself, that you did nothing but pine for him all these years yet still wish for that high school romance.

if you said something, it could’ve happened.

and that realization only adds salt to the wound.

oikawa’s voice is soft when it breaks the silence.

“you wanna know what i regret?”

your voice is barely above a whisper, “what?”

“i wish i told you that i love you too.”

and his words instantly get your attention.

you pull yourself off his shoulder, “you do?”

“it’s my biggest regret,” he nods, a soft smile on his lips. “although, i don’t think we need to regret it too much now.”

“we have one week left,” you mumble.

“that’s more than enough time for us,” he answers, the distance between you both slowly decreasing. “one week to have your high school romance.”

and a small laugh from you follows his words as oikawa closes the gap, his lips finally meeting yours. the sounds of the crackling fire and your racing heartbeat rang through your ears as you cupped oikawa’s cheek, not missing how he leaned in impossibly closer to you. there’s a laugh that leaves his lips as you two pull away, resting your forehead against yours, feeling as if you’re on cloud nine.

it’s euphoric.

he’s euphoric.

your head rests on his shoulder, “now how long have we been regretting this?” you tease.

“longer than you’ll ever know,” he answers. “but it’s okay, now we’re just making up for lost time.”

it’s your last week of high school, the last time you and oikawa would ever be on this roof together following the tradition you’ve kept for the past three years. but this time, as you looked into the fire once more with his arm over your shoulder, there’s no regret in your system. no “i wish” or “what ifs” clouding your mind. instead, there’s hope, hope now that your feelings are finally out there, hope because he feels the same way as you.

hope that this would be the love you always wanted.

thank u so so much for reading!! reblogs are always appreciated <33