#how to embroider on sweatshirt | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

venus-haze · 2 years ago

Text

Secret Identity!Homelander x Reader Headcanons

Note: Gender neutral but mildly fem-coded reader, and no descriptors are used. This is inspired by the throwaway line from season 1 where Homelander mentions having a secret identity, but not keeping it for long, so I imagine it’d have been in the 2000s when he was in his 20s. My brain really latched onto the idea, and this is the result. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Voyeurism, relationship under false pretenses, obsessive and disturbing behavior. Do not interact if you're under 18.

• Your new neighbor moves into the apartment next door seemingly overnight, but luckily you have a box of brownie mix and some powdered sugar tucked away in your cupboard and decide to make some as a ‘welcome to the building’ gesture

• His name is John, and he apologizes in advance if he wakes you up with his coming and going since he works odd, inconsistent hours as a crime reporter for a small, independent newspaper

• You notice the Indiana University logo embroidered on his sweatshirt and cheerfully say, “Hey, you’re a Hoosier! I’m sure you’re already working on your March Madness bracket.” He nods along as if he understands what the fuck you’re talking about. The two of you continue small talk until you make your leave back to your place. He goes to his computer, groaning at his choice of Indiana as his home state when he doesn’t know anything about basketball, let alone March Madness and brackets

• Over the next week or so, he realizes just how unprepared he is for living on his own, but luck’s on his side, because he hardly has to worry about doing much cooking or cleaning himself when you’re constantly inviting him over for dinner and offering to bring his clothes over to the laundromat with yours since you “know he’s so busy with work”

• Sometimes he has trouble keeping his backstory straight, though he is at least able to bullshit his way through your questions about college and basketball. That doesn’t faze you at first, as he keeps you enraptured with his inside scoop on crime in the city. You’re none the wiser as to how he knows the intimate details of some of the cases, under the impression that he’s just a great reporter

• He keeps tabs on you from afar, Homelander doing quick fly-bys of the area where you work just to make sure everything’s okay. He was raised to be a hero, after all. When you’re alone in your apartment, however, he has no shame in looking through your walls and listening in on what you’re up to. He knows everything about you, the type of music you listen to, the TV shows you watch, the food you go for when you wake up for a midnight snack, that you call your best friend every Thursday night at nine, no detail is too minute for him

• One evening, he decides to take a closer look at your place while you’re in the shower, until he looks through the bathroom wall and feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you. He slips his hand down his pants, and, well, what you don’t know won’t hurt you. It becomes a habit, his guilty pleasure of getting himself off whenever you’re naked in your apartment

• To you, though, he’s still your hot neighbor-friend John, who your coworkers have been pestering you to make a move on, telling you that it sounds like he’s straight from a Hallmark movie. You’re reluctant, but you start to consider something with John when you mention wanting to get rid of some of your older, worn-out furniture and buy new stuff and lament having to pay a company to move. He volunteers to help you during the weekend

• It’s almost funny how he pretends to struggle to move the furniture when he could rearrange your entire apartment without breaking a sweat. He seems to be a good actor, though, because he notices your forehead creased with worry as you watch him move a couch himself. He likes your eyes on him for a change, and though he flexes his muscles every chance he gets, the concern awakens something in him. It’s nothing less than calculated when he “accidentally” drops the couch, pretending to hurt his arm in the process

• You’re frantic as you rush to his side to inspect the damage. Of course there’s no bruising, a truck would have to land on him for that to happen. Still, you gingerly touch his arm and he pretends to hiss in pain. You disappear into the kitchen, only to return with a bag of frozen vegetables in your hand and guilt etched across your features

• “John, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?” you ask, brushing his hair from his face, and it takes everything in him not to lean into your touch as he assures you he’ll be fine. The furniture moving project is over for the night, and you order a pizza and let him pick a movie to watch. Your movie collection is almost foreign to him, having been raised on a carefully curated selection of propaganda and clean American classics. He picks Dirty Dancing on a whim, and it proves to be a good choice as you gush over how much you love the movie

• For the first time in his life, he indulges in greasy junk food and cheesy movies, feeling that pang in his heart again as he watches the romance unfold on screen, the one weakness he could never quite get over, loneliness. He notices how as the movie progresses, you end up curled up against him. He furrows his eyebrows, wondering to himself if it’s actually a date all along, and from the way you keep glancing at his lips, only to bashfully look away when he catches you staring confirms that

• He can hear your erratic heartbeat and decides to just go for it, stealing a kiss from you in the middle of the movie. From then on, you’re dating, and suddenly this persona of his becomes far more complicated than he anticipated. You make him happier than he’s ever been in his life. He wants to keep you incredibly close, both of your respective free time consumed by each other, even while he’s Homelander, unbeknownst to you

• John may as well be your dream boyfriend in the beginning of your relationship, attentive and romantic, bringing you to a nearby park on your first official date for a picnic and to try the famous Dirty Dancing lift scene. “Let’s at least try!” he insists. “I’ll catch you.” Despite your hesitations since he’d hurt his arm moving your furniture just a few days ago, he catches you with an almost unbelievable ease on the first try, to your delight. “I’ve always wanted to do that!” you laugh as he sets you down, pulling him in for a kiss

• He buys you elaborate floral bouquets and increasingly expensive gifts, to the point where you wonder how the hell he has that kind of money as a reporter unless he gets paid off by the same criminals he’s supposed to be reporting on. Sometimes he’s troublingly jealous or says things that unsettle you, but you assume it’s because of the line of work he’s in, being exposed to the worst of people. Besides, whenever you get even the slightest bit nervous by his words or actions, he seems to know just when to swoop in and calm you down

• Definitely has no concept of personal space or normal sleep schedules. You’re the first non-Vought affiliated person he’s ever had any kind of relationship with. It’s intense and things move pretty fast, like "I love you on the third date" fast. He idealizes you a lot. Emotionally you’re stretched thin by having to fill the role of lover, parent, best friend, confidant silly rabbit

• Date nights at your place are comforting and domestic, but going out is always an adventure with him. His lack of knowledge of generally getting around New York is downright strange since he reports on crimes all over the city. Not to mention, people do double-takes when they see him, as if they recognize him from somewhere but then figure otherwise. It happens way too often to be a coincidence, though

• Sex with John can also be unpredictable, passionate and loving to intense and almost painful. He’s into some weird stuff and doesn’t have the best etiquette when it comes to his kinks. Not to mention his stamina is almost inhuman, and when you comment as much after he fucks you the fourth time in under two hours, his response is strange, to say the least. You chalk it up to years of sexual repression that he maybe didn't get out during his college years

• Still, he supports and adores you, so you can deal with the frustration and emotional exhaustion when he knocks on your door at eleven at night, letting out a dramatic sigh as he flops on your couch and you take the cue to ask him how his day was. You know there’s something he’s keeping from you, but you decide not to push it. He’s just as interested in your everyday life, hell, he wants you to bother him with the mundane stuff. That’s what boyfriends are for, anyway. You have no idea of what his true identity is, yet you still love him

• It can’t last forever, though, because you work late one evening, so he decides to check up on you, just to be safe. The scene he descends on is almost too perfect, the type of scenario he’d seen played out in the Vought-branded Payback cartoons he watched growing up. Still, seeing the man so much as pointing the knife in your direction as he demands you hand over your money and valuables almost makes Homelander lose control

• He lands in between you and the man, who takes a nervous step back. “Not so brave now, huh, buddy?” Homelander scoffs, grabbing the man’s wrist and snapping it, the knife falling to the ground as he screams in pain, clutching his broken wrist

• The situation becomes even more nightmarish as you watch America’s fresh-faced hero push your attempted assailant onto his knees, a cruel gleam in his eyes and sneer on his lips as he grabs the man’s head and twists. You can’t bare to watch, gagging when you hear a distinct snap followed by the crunching of bones

• Homelander turns to you, taking you into his arms for what’s supposed to be a comforting embrace, “It’s alright now. You’re safe with me, babe”

• Your brain pretty much short circuits as you realize your boyfriend John is actually the most powerful superhero who ever lived, and you just witnessed him break a man’s neck like it was a toothpick

• Naturally, you pass out, right into his blood-covered hands. He presses a kiss to your forehead and takes off for Vought Tower. No need to pretend anymore, right?

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander headcanons #homelander imagine #the boys x reader #the boys headcanons #the boys tv #the boys amazon #'headcanons' this is long enough to be a fic but fuck it we ball

1K notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 1 year ago

Text

uhh uhh uhh uhh meeting enemy frat!suguru at a greek life halloween party

cw: swearing, drinking and alcohol, creepy dude at beginning

"look, i'm not interested in whatever weird shit you concocted. so, get lost," you spit at the ugly, intoxicated, ogre-looking airhead trying to give you a shot of heavens know what. he'd been trying to get into your pants since you crossed the threshold and you were having none of it. your sorority sisters, unfortunately, were nowhere to be found and you were left to glare at the stumbling goliath slowly backing you into a musty corner. "i don't want you, asshole, so stop trying to get with me."

"c'mon, lighten up a little. it's a fuckin' halloween party; why are you here if you're not getting shitfaced?" your nose wrinkles at his sheer audacity. you attempt to make a break for the door when his overworked biceps suddenly block your eyeline, trapping you against the wall. body odor and whiskey leak into your nostrils and you swallow down the bile that rises in your throat. "where the hell are you going? do you even know who i am?"

"you're gonna be six feet under if you don't leave them the fuck alone," comes a dangerously low voice somewhere behind your harasser. "get back to whatever shithole you crawled out of."

"don't be such a downer, geto," the guy drawls over his shoulder and his casual nature makes you physically recoil. "i'm just tryna get them to take a shot or two with me, that's all." before you can process it, the shot glass is snatched from the asshole's hand and downed in a blink. the man, who you assume is geto, glares even sharper daggers than you, and your heart does an unwanted little flutter. the gesture seemingly didn't get through the other bro's thick skull as he whirls around, offended. "hey, what the fuck was that?"

"lay off of 'em. don't be more trouble than you're worth." the guy hesitates for the briefest second and is just as quickly shoved to the side, landing on the floor with a satisfying thud. he groans and you inhale a deep breath of stale party atmosphere, pushing off the wall and beelining to the nearest source of fresh air. you vaguely sense someone following behind you and don't bother looking until you're shivering against the chilly october air. "you alright?"

"sure," you deadpan, "if i ignore the fact that i almost got roofied a minute ago." you cross your arms and plop into the nearest deck chair, uncomfortably eyeing a nearby couple getting a little too intimate for being in public. the guy who helped you stands next to you at a respectful distance, following your gaze to the people practically eating each other's faces.

"oi, get a fucking room," he barks and they flinch, scurrying into the house to find some empty room to bang in. "better?"

"yeah," you mutter, still uneasy about why he followed you out in the first place. "thanks for helping me, in there."

"don't mention it. it's a wonder how many frats still let him come to parties considering how easily he scares sorority girls away," he says blankly and you take a second to shamelessly analyze his appearance. long, dark hair was tied back into a loose bun and stray strands framed a mesmerizingly sharp jawline. unlike most of the guys inside, he actually was wearing a shirt, a simple sweatshirt with his frat's letters embroidered across the front. you couldn't see what the letters were, but you guessed he was probably part of a related frat by how willingly he stepped in to help you. to combat the autumn air, you figured, he also wore a flannel that had a dragon printed on the back panel. "you sure you're okay?"

"yeah, i'm good. a little cold, is all," you admit, grimacing at the goosebumps running over your arms. without another word leaving your mouth, he shrugs off the flannel and tosses it into your lap. you wrap it around your shoulders and catch him watching you, the tiniest smirk painting his pretty mouth when you pull it tighter against you. it's warm and smells like expensive cologne. "you're a real gentleman, you know that?"

"so i've been told," he replies and you huff an exasperated breath. "i swiped this for you on my way out, too. it's sealed, but i can grab you another one if you're still skeptical." he hands you a lukewarm bottle of water and, true to his word, requires a little bit of effort to break the seal around the cap. you take a few sips and your mind finally starts to process what happened. "feel a little better?"

"definitely. thank you, is it geto?"

"call me suguru." fuck, that's hot. he's hot.

"thank you, then, suguru. can i ask why you're being so nice when you don't even know me?"

"just making sure everyone's having fun and being safe so no one calls the cops." your response falls from your lips faster than you can stop it.

"nothing else?" his attention flicks to you and he chuckles in amusement at your boldness.

"and, i think you look nice in your costume," he murmurs and you'd be lying if you said it didn't make your heartrate increase. "that what you wanted to hear?"

"mhmm, thank you." the giddy excitement wears off and you check the time on your phone. "i should probably be getting back home."

"you got a ride?"

"i'll go find one of my pledge sisters that are also partied out," you shrug, praying that someone was sober enough to get you back safely.

"you mind if i call you a cab? i don't feel comfortable sending you off in some rando's car."

"technically, you're a rando," you point out, and he raises his hands in surrender. "but, sure, as long as you walk me out."

"i was already planning on it," he affirms and extends a hand, helping you out of the cold metal chair. his palm is warm, safe, and strong, nothing like the grabby ones that were begging for your body all night. suguru waits with you on the lawn until the cab arrives and opens the door for you as you slip into the second row. before you can close the door, he reaches over you and hands the driver a stack of bills that has the old man's eyes widening to the size of tennis balls. "get them home safely, please."

"what are you doing?"

"doing the next best thing besides driving you home myself. i didn't think you'd be comfortable doing that, given the progression of the evening." you're stunned into silence by his genuine chivalry and nearly forget to give him his flannel back. when you go to pull it off, however, he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. "keep it, for now. i'll get it back at some point."

"alright," you concede, wrapping it around you like a safety blanket. "thank you for everything."

"of course. get home safe, yeah?"

"i will. thank you, suguru."

you wake up in the morning on the couch in the sorority house's living room, still in the same clothes from the night prior. your head pounded like it was getting repeatedly slammed with a mallet, but you were barely able to remember the events leading up to crashing at home. you look down and the flannel around your body reaffirms that suguru was, in fact, real and not just a drunk hallucination. you're in the middle of smiling giddily to yourself when one of your sisters screeches to a halt in the hallway behind you.

"good morni-"

"what the fuck are you wearing?" she asks with all the seriousness as if someone had died.

"yeah, i know i look like shit. is anyone in the shower-"

"no, stupid. that flannel, where did you get it?"

"some guy helped me get home last night and he let me borrow it; why are you being so weird?" you stumble to the kitchen and pour yourself a glass of water. your sister watches you from over the counter like you'd grown four heads. "hello? why are you looking at me like that?"

"you do realize where that flannel is from, right?"

"no...?"

"your little buddy from last night is from those assholes at theta phi fuckhead, babe." you nearly drop your glass in shock. there's no way. he couldn't have been from those dipshits, could he? "there's a reason we're not supposed to talk with them, 'cause they're dangerous and unruly."

"but this one, he-"

"doesn't matter. don't let anyone else see you with that on, or they'll have a fit." she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. "shower is free, so go get dressed and change your clothes."

as you strip off the flannel, a small piece of paper drops from one of the pockets. the message written on it has you gripping the edge of the counter for support.

you look cute in my clothes. (XXX) XXX-XXX if you wanna wear 'em more often

-s. geto

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#geto x you #geto x reader #geto x y/n #suguru x you #suguru x reader #suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader

255 notes · View notes

gavisuntiedboot · 1 year ago

Note

Whenever you have the time could you write about Gavi with a gf that is a bit reserved and touch starved, her love language is physical touch but she doesn't initiate it with Gavi because her ex always told her she is clingy and annoying so she's insecure about it, so Gavi tries to show her it's okay by always cuddling her, or touching her in any way. And then over time she starts to initiate the cuddling/touching and Gavi is so proud and happy because she finally feels comfortable with him

Your writing is amazing btw, I've decided to wait for you to finish Just Pretend completely to continue reading it because whenever I finish the last chapter you post I get so sad because the next one isn't out yet and I can't live in the agony of not knowing what happens next

Pls hold my hand

"Princess, why do you have a sweatshirt that says ‘clingy’ on it?”

You looked over to Gavi, who plopped himself down on the couch next to you, grabbing the remote to cue the Netflix show the two of you had been watching for the last several weeks, eager to finally watch another episode, as the two of you held your shared series’ to a sacred standard. With only two episodes left of the latest “Drive to Survive”, you didn’t want to delay the experience with too much conversation.

"Just and inside joke between me and my friends.” You said, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the bag of m&m’s in front of you.

“Your friends think you’re clingy?” He asked, turning to face you as his hoodie slipped from his head, messy brown locks on full display. One of the things you adored about Pablo was how much he was always trying to protect you and look out for you. You weren’t really be confrontational, and this lead to some mistreatment and being pushed over at times by those close to you. Well, you used to. Since you and Pablo started dating about 8 months ago, he had been there to defend you against people who wanted to take advantage, and often was the voice reminding you to stick up for yourself.

“No no, it’s not them. It’s … something to do with my ex boyfriend. Do you still want to know?”

Gavi tensed at this. Despite you never saying anything explicitly negative about your boyfriend, all the stories Gavi heard made him hate the man with a burning passion. He had slowly but surely messed you up in so many ways, and now as Pablo worked to slowly unravel the knots tightened around your heart, he couldn’t help but curse the man that tied them to begin with.

“Yeah. You can tell me.”

You shifted in your seat, rather uncomfortable with the topic, but not wanting to lie to your boyfriend.

“Well, remember that little love languages quiz I made you do? Well I did mine like years ago, and I got physical touch. Which makes sense right because that’s one of yours and we seem to be getting along pretty well.” Gavi giggled at this, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and causing you to tense.

“Well, my last boyfriend wasn’t super into like… touching? Fuck that sounds sexual. I mean he didn’t really like being touched or cuddling or all that couple stuff. Didn’t like holding hands either. And like this one time, he was watching something on his computer and I was feeling bold or whatever and tried to sit on his lap — he hated that though. He liked pushed me onto the floor and told me to stop being clingy.” You forced out a laugh, trying to lighten the mood and soften the look of horror that had occupied Gavi’s face.

“That was actually why I broke up with him. Anyways I didn’t hug any of my friends for a month after that, and when they finally confronted me and I told them why, they got this made me for me. See, look at the sleeve,” you said, stretching out your arm to show him the ‘pls hold my hand’ embroidered on the sleeve. “So now whenever I’m in my clingy sweatshirt, my friends give me a ton of hugs and stuff. It’s funny. I think.” You say, winching slightly by the fact that Pablo’s eyebrows are still pushed together in anger.

He muttered his grievances about your boyfriend while cuddling closer to you, pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks warmed as they were pressed against Gavi’s beating heart. Despite the long time you had been dating Pablo, you still were shy when it came to initiating any sort of affection. You were too scared of annoying him and pushing him further away. So you remained shy and reserved, only responding to the touches he initiated.

“Give me your hand, silly. Never been with a girl who came with instructions before. Maybe I should get you a pair of panties that say-“ his sentence abruptly ended with a pillow to the face. You giggled, trying to pull away from his grasp, but he just pulled you closer, wrapping both arms around you now.

“Oh no no princesa. You’re not going anywhere. Now hush and make mean comments about Verstappen with me.”

Over the next few weeks, Pablo had made an active effort to make you more comfortable with being physical with him. Whenever the two of you were out, he held your hand or had you two link arms. He hugged you and kissed you on the cheek or forehead, asking, “you don’t want to give me a kiss back, Amor?” Puppy dog eyes and adorable pout on display, you coyly returned the peck to his jutted out lip. He smiled widely, teeth almost blinding you. He returned with an attack, kissing you across both cheeks, and ending with a searing kiss to the lips.

His favorite time was when you two watched shows together. He would always pull you in close, cuddling with you next to him on the couch. He would lean close and whisper his comments about the show into your ear, making your skin erupt in goosebumps as his breath famed over. He would press kisses into your temples, breathing in the sweet smell of your hair, and reminding you how much he loved being around you.

“You’re so warm amor - my personal furnace. I love it.”

“Your skin is so soft, feels so nice.”

“I wish I never had to get up from beside you.”

After three weeks of hand holding, kisses, and encouragement, you finally found the confidence to approach Gavi to heal your touch starvation. You put on your clingy hoodie again, laying out snacks on the coffee table and firing up her Netflix.

“Princesa I’m here! Where are you?”

Running to the door, you wrapped both arms around Gavi’s neck, pulling him into you and greeting him with a firm kiss. As he recovered from the unexpected greeting, you informed him that you would be in the living room pulling up a new series. He followed closely after kicking off his shoes, and peeling off his Barca jacket, picking up the hoodie you had laid out for him.

“Did you change shampoos? Used to be peach and now it’s strawberry.”

“How could you tell?” You asked, grabbing some drinks as Pablo got comfy on the couch. He crossed his arms across his chest, legs spread and back slumped.

“My clothes smell different around the shoulders. That’s usually where your wet hair sits.” He looked over at you, watching your eyes go wide. “Amor, you know I love you, stop being surprised when I actually act like it. Now what are we watching?”

Taking a deep breath, you walked back over. You grabbed the remote, pressing play.

“The new season of Black Mirror is out and I’m dying to see it. Heard this one is creepier than normal.” As you explained, you walked over to Gavi. Before he could move to make space for you on the sofa, you draped yourself over his lap. Your legs were to his side, back pressed to his chest. Your arms wrapped around his torso, and you laid your head on his shoulder. ‘Deep breaths it’s okay he’s not going to push you off.’

Pablo was stunned for a moment, so much so that he remained motionless. Once the shock wore off and he felt your slight tremble, he brought his muscled arms around you, pulling you tightly against him, soft lips pressing to your pulse point and freeing a soft gasp from your throat. He rested his head atop yours, the pressure and warmth comforting and familiar.

“Look at you being bold cariño. If I knew it would get you to sit in my lap we would’ve done this months ago.” You giggled softly in response, turning to face him. You rested your forehead against his, gazing deeply into the deep brown pools of his eyes. Leaning in, his lips eagerly met yours, refusing to release you. When you finally pulled away, you resumed your comfortable position in Pablo’s embrace. “I’m so proud of you, princesa.” The two of you fell into s comfortable silence, enjoying the show, squeezing each other tighter whenever things got intense.

“Can I get a matching clingy hoodie for whenever I want cuddles?” Pablo asked, smiling at you from above.

“I don’t think so, Pablito. You would never take it off.”

~~~

Guys I have the worst headacheeeeee but yay I posted!

#gavisuntiedboot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #pablo gavi imagine #gavi x reader #gavi x you #fc barca #gavi imagine #pablo gavi x reader fluff #pablo gavi x y/n #gavi x yn #gavi #gavi fluff #pablo gavi fluff #gavi fic #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi fanfiction #gavi fanfic

563 notes · View notes

milkweedman · 2 months ago

Text

Some recent mends for my sister's shirts. Don't know why I agreed to this; every time I'm like "so I only do visible mending, so that's what this will be if I mend it, do you still want me to proceed ?" And she's like yeah that's fine and then still wants invisible mends. Which is how I ended up spending 2 hours peering at a thin dark blue linen shirt with tiny holes mending it with dark blue thread. Never again. Waste of time, too, because it's ancient and only has a couple years left if heavily patched. And maybe 1 year if not worked on at all. Which is what it will be unless my sister decides mending is worth her time.

Anyway...the first one I'm very happy with; I used a little bit of an old bedsheet that belonged to my grandfather. It's a very fine linen that has ink stains all over it (my fault.... in my defense I was like 8).

The last one I just did embroidery thread weaving. It's visible close up but from a distance it blends in a lot.

And not pictured, but I also embroidered the cuffs of an old sweatshirt bc they were splitting, and secured some buttons that were loose.

Still 2 other pieces but now I'm burnt out on this and annoyed about the constant wheedling down to less visible methods. I chose visible mending because this shit is physically pretty difficult for me, and the more invisible it is the more taxing I find it is on me (like, very noticeably so. The big patch ? No problem ? The dark blue linen ? I am still in pain from darning with thread). Anyway, that's enough mending for a While. I think I might need another migraine day; it came back when making dinner and the stupid fire alarm went off, and it's really bad now. Oh well.

#visible mending #darning #mending #sewing

52 notes · View notes

smashboxgirl26 · 2 years ago

Text

sitting in your sweatshirt, crying in the backseat

ph! katsuki bakugou x fem! (though i don't state pronouns) reader summary: katsuki realizes his feelings a little too late contains: mentions of sex, angst (with a maybe happy ending) word count: 2.8k words masterlist

Under the shadows of the coming morning—the sun rising through the blinds of the bedroom windows in your apartment—Katsuki liked to pretend that you were his.

Just his.

He tended to be up earlier than you anyways��with years of waking up for hero work instilled in his sleep schedule—but he liked that time. It was quiet in the mornings; only the sounds of the early morning traffic and the birds nested in the tree next to your apartment to keep him company besides your breathing: breaths that were soft and sweet and slow.

He would curl his palm over your cheek, pressing your figure closer to his as he watched your chest rise and fall under him, stroking your skin softly with his rough thumb—because you were his in that moment.

Just his.

In those times, he would forget what the reality of his life was—the way you would stare at him tiredly every time he knocked on your door past 1 am, the lingering feeling of your fingers on his cheeks when he leaned in for a kiss, how you would oblige him no matter how many times you’d called him while drunk and upset, the kisses he left on your forehead before he left you alone the next morning—

—That you were not his and he was not yours, no matter how many times he liked to repeat it to himself.

It’s because of my work—he said to himself in the morning, stroking your hair out of your face.

It’s because I don’t have the time to commit—he whispered, nestling himself into the crook of your neck so he could smell the lingering scent of mint, strawberries, and sex.

If only we met under different circumstances… If only my job wasn’t so demanding… If only it was easier… If only I could commit…

If only…

After a while, you only nodded when he whispered those words at three am and your head was resting on his bare chest—like you believed him.

(Before you would get upset, turn away, tell him to leave—and the cycle would repeat.)

You’d kiss his neck in acknowledgment, curling up in his arms like a cat would—uncaring, unaware.

He wished he could do the same; just accept the reality in front of him.

But it didn’t matter, because right now, you were his.

Just his.

It was the complacency that let the cycle continue; but it was the complacency that became his downfall. He realized this when he stopped leaving you after ten minutes of waking up—waiting for the pink sky to turn bright, watching your eyes flutter open under the light of forthcoming day, the small smile that creeped into your eyes when you realized he was still there—mornings spent in the kitchen drinking coffee and sharing laughs while you paraded around in the sweatshirt he left the first time he came over.

(It was his favorite in school—black and oversized with a small embroidered insignia of All Might above the right breast.

He didn’t even know he’d lost it until you came out wearing it one morning—and some of his old cologne was still lingering on the collar.)

He let himself forget—deluded himself—into thinking it would last. That he wouldn’t eventually have to pull away, and the dream-like haze he’d lost himself in with you wouldn’t end.

Just his.

It happened five weeks later, after a month-long mission: the morning after, and you were standing in a shirt that wasn’t his with a coffee mug pressed up to your lips like it would hide what you were about to say.

“I think… I think we should end this here, Katsuki.”

The words didn’t register at first, and he stood there staring—trying to come up with an answer.

“This?”

“...us.” Your lips pressed together solemnly, as if whispering a prayer under your breath—and you let out a tired sigh. So very tired. “Our relationship.”

He grunted, unwilling to open his mouth in retaliation. The fear that had been festering in his head began to rise, ugly and thick like bile coming up his throat—and he stood still, silently, staring at the coffee you made for him with too much sugar in the mug he got you from a mission a couple months ago.

“...I’ve been seeing someone,” you let out—but Katsuki didn’t dare look at your face; Venom sat at the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spit out—

—Because you were supposed to be his.

Just his. “Don’t call it a relationship,” he settled on—enough spite in his voice that he knew it would deter you. “It never was one.”

He expected you to look relieved when he finally stared up at you again, but your expression seemed more soured than before: like you were expecting a different answer to push past his lips. It was quickly replaced though, by a smile that didn’t seem to meet your eyes like they did when you’d wake up in the morning to still find him in bed next to you, before taking another sip of your too-sweet coffee.

“Thank you, Katsuki.”

He didn’t know what you were thanking him for—your time together? For letting you go when you’d both been hooking up like this for almost a year?

And he wasn’t even sure why it felt so bitter. He’d known from the beginning that, whatever this was, wouldn’t last forever.

Why would you stay in something like this, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to give you more than the little bit of time he already did? Why wouldn’t you want someone who consistently woke up with you in the morning to give you breakfast in bed, or brought you flowers after work, or could take you out in the evenings for dinner?

You deserved that—you deserved all of it.

So why did he think (hope) you would settle for the little moments he offered you when you could have the world?

He kept his face blank when he left your apartment that morning—drilling the hole in his brain that had been dedicated to you in silence—simultaneously missing the sound of sobbing that came from your apartment as soon as he stepped out the door.

He thought he would be okay—that in a week or so, it’d be back to how it was without you.

But it wasn’t.

One week turned into two; two weeks turned into four; and four weeks turned into sitting at the bar, drunk while still in his hero outfit, with Kirishima sitting next to him as he rambled on about you.

You were the only thing he thought about, the only thing he could think about—he missed the scent of your body wash, the warmth of your skin on his, the small teasing smiles you’d give and the dimple that only appeared on one cheek, the too-sweet coffee he’d subject himself to drinking, watching the sunrise while feeling you laying next to him…

Everything about you felt like home.

He’d even gotten distracted the other day during a villain attack because there was a civvie who looked just like you in the line of fire and he’d panicked.

“It was such a fuckin’ rookie, stupid ass mistake, and I still made it,” he took the last sip of his pint before letting out a small, frustrated grunt because it was finished.

Eijirou moved to prevent Katsuki from flagging the bartender down for a refill—he was drunk enough after two pints; instead, he signaled for the check while Katsuki groaned in response.

“I’m not fuckin’ finished.”

“Yes, you are,” Eijirou stared at him with a pinched expression. “You have patrol first thing in the morning—you’ll thank me for it then.”

Katsuki huffed under his breath in resignation—unfortunately Eijirou was correct. Not only that, but the upcoming lecture he knew would be coming from the higher ups would be infinitely worse with a splitting hangover.

“I’ll pay for it,” Eijirou shooed him off his barstool. “Just go stand outside for a bit, maybe the cold will help sober you up a little before you go to sleep.”

Katsuki could only huff in response; his mind was swimming and blurred and his head felt heavy enough that he could only comply with what Eijirou had said—he’d have to pay him back for it later. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he trudged outside.

The late-winter-early-spring winds nipped against his skin as soon as the door shut behind him, and Katsuki pulled the scarf he was wearing higher up to fully cover his neck and chin—shifting uncomfortably in the cold while he waited for Kirishima. The street was basically empty except for the couple people walking in and out of the bar; he guessed that it was too cold for people to be wandering around at night. Most of the shops on the streets were closed too, leaving the only illumination to come from the blinking street lamps that lined the sidewalk and the gibbous moon above.

“What’s takin’ so fuckin’ long…” he muttered under his breath—trying to peer into the window to see what Kirishima was doing.

When he turned back, he spotted a couple walking in the distance; though he couldn’t make out their faces, their intertwined hands and the closeness they exuded was enough. Katsuki could see his breath in the air when he sighed, loudly, mind buried in the memories of what could have been—until they were close enough that he could make out their faces: and he realized, it was you.

And you looked happy with the extra, he couldn’t lie—all cheeky, rosy smiles and giggles as he told you some joke that he could barely get through without laughing himself; you were holding a bouquet of pink and yellow tulips in one hand, with the other hand clasped in his (which he occasionally brought up to his lips to kiss the back of); he was carrying both the leftovers of the restaurant you both just went to and a shopping bag from a store you’d always liked.

You looked… at peace—with yourself, your situation.

But as happy as you looked, he couldn’t help the ugly, selfish feeling boiling in the back of his throat.

Because you were just his.

Because… that should’ve been him.

It should’ve been him—holding your hand, leading you through the night with confidence, and the other holding everything you wanted to buy while you smiled and giggled on his arm.

You’d love teasing him. You’d loved spending time with him, as little as it was.

And though he’d refused it for so long, you’d loved him too.

He’d spent weeks, months, trying to ignore that fact when the two of you were together, if you could even classify it as that—and here he was, stuck in the same fucking position; he was destined to just watch you from afar as you moved on from the cycle he’d pushed you into, while he lost himself in it instead.

Maybe he was just selfish.

Katsuki didn’t even know when he started following you both, distantly (maybe he couldn’t help it, maybe he just wanted to make sure you reached home safe)—Eijirou was an afterthought at that point—and when you’d finally reached your apartment.

The extra even offered to come up and drop the bags off so you wouldn’t have to carry them up the stairs yourself, but you declined: kissing him shortly before waving goodbye and watching him leave.

Watching you kiss him seemed to wake Katsuki up, his glazed over eyes finally seeming to register his surroundings: the streetlamps overhead, the light from the apartments lining the building, the little crack in the paint of the building where he’d once apprehended a villain to save you, you staring at him—

—you were staring at him? Katsuki didn’t shift from where he was standing as you walked up to him, leftovers and shopping and tulips forgotten on the sidewalk in front of your apartment.

“Katsuki?” Your lips barely moved, and your hands were pressed to your sides. You were trembling slightly—and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or him.

He didn’t answer; he couldn’t will his mouth to open in front of you.

“Wh–What are you doing here?”

Even worse, he couldn’t bear to tell you the truth.

“I uh… I was on patrol nearby.”

You stared off to that little crack in the painted wall as if you were reminiscing, avoiding his gaze—your fingers rubbing together red in the cold with wobbly knuckles.

You were freezing.

“Here,” he grunted, slowly pulling his scarf from under his neck to hand it to you. Your expression instantly changed, and though you tried to dissuade him, the visible puffs of air coming from your nose were enough to tell him that it was something you needed.

“I… Thank you…” you whispered, letting him wrap it around you. “You always said you hated the cold, so…”

“Doesn’t matter. You clearly need it more than I do.”

This was his final act, he’d decided. He couldn’t hold you back any longer—not when he couldn’t give you what you wanted and needed out of him; no, it was what you deserved. Maybe his final act of stupidity would mean enough to him in the future that he’d be able to move on; and maybe one day the stupid scarf would just be a memento you had, instead of a reminder of the hurt he knew he’d brought.

And it was all so fucking dumb and poetic—standing in the spot you’d both met, saying your final goodbyes with your happy ending just waiting in the distance: waiting for him to get out of your life so it could be whole and right again.

But when you turned around, and started walking back towards the tulips he never bought you, leftovers from the restaurants where he never took you, and the clothes he’d never offered to buy—your apartment where his sweatshirt was laying in the first, top drawer of your dresser—the words were choked out of his throat.

Because you were supposed to be just his.

And maybe the alcohol in his system had the influence, but he couldn’t let you go: not when you were the best thing that’d ever happened in his entire life.

The echoing sound of boots slapping loudly against the pavement and your name being called out by his heavy cries was enough to stop you in your tracks—and at first he thought it was because you didn’t want to see him again: but when he called your name once more and you turned around, he learned it was because you were already crying.

“I…I love you,” he whispered when he was close enough, fighting the urge to wipe your tears away like his own weren’t following quickly behind.

“Katsuki…” you smeared your cold fingers over your face, trying to wipe away the evidence that kept falling. “I-I…Y-You…Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for those words to come out of your lips?” you couldn’t really stop the tears from falling now—and he could only pathetically watch as they did. “Do you know how much I’ve fucking ached and cried over those three stupid fucking words? And now… Now that I finally feel okay, you’re standing here—pretending like you can make it alright again? How can you–”

“I love you,” he repeated, grounding his stance in the pavement. He couldn’t let you slip straight through his fingers. “I’ve loved you since I blasted that idiot against that wall to save you. I’ve loved you since you dressed my wounds in your apartment. I’ve loved you since we met at that coffee shop again down the street. I’ve loved you through every night spent together, and through every mission spent away…” He repeated your name once more, cradling your face in his rough, cold palms like he would an oath to his heart. “And—m’sorry… I-I know I was a fuckin’ idiot this whole time not realizin’ it, and you can hate me all you want but I… I just needed you to know, ‘kay?—I couldn’t let you walk out of my life without knowing.”

He couldn’t even face you anymore, not when he could feel the tear that’d begun leaking down his cheek at the thought of you rejecting his admission: a secret he’d kept close to his heart, burying it underneath years of repression and loathing.

And now it was out in the open, left for you to stomp on if you wanted to.

“You say that now, Katsuki,” you uttered, the tears now drying on your cheeks. “But we both know that whatever this is isn’t gonna last.” You scoffed bitterly, putting your hands over his—perhaps in an attempt to remove them from where they were plastered to your skin—but instead they just rested over his while your bottom lip wobbled dangerously.

He knew you were right. He knew that everything you said was true.

And yet—

—he kissed you anyway.

Because you knew: that you were just his and he was just yours.

#keke.writes #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #bakugo katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #bnha angst #mha fic #mha fanfiction #mha angst

1K notes · View notes

marblemoonstones · 1 month ago

Text

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter ten

main masterlist

series masterlist

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, curse words

*lmk if i missed any*

word count: ~6.9k (longest i’ve ever written omg)

a/n: feeding you all with a loong chapter!! also, likes and comments motivate me to keep writing, so please let me know your thoughts! 🤍

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next day I wake up at ten, thankfully being able to sleep in a bit later today. That and I also was not woken up by the maknaes. I stretch and rub my eyes then grab my glasses.

I go about my mundane morning routine, showering and brushing my teeth and attempting to tame my hair. I slip into jeans and look for a sweatshirt. Just my luck, it’s laundry day for me and I don’t have any clean ones.

I grab a t-shirt and change then go into Jungkook’s room. He’s at the film festival again so it’s dark. I switch on the lights and roll my eyes at his messy room. Stepping over piles of schoolwork and clothes (is that my tshirt?) I reach his closet. Sifting through I choose a navy blue sweatshirt with a tiny anchor embroidered in the corner. It’s one of my favorites of his and so soft to wear.

I change then head downstairs. Namjoon is at the table reading while drinking coffee and I can see Jimin and Hobi in the living room watching tv.

“Good morning Y/n,” Namjoon says, putting down his book.

I smile. There’s something about him looking so domestic that makes me warm.

“Good morning Namjoon. Is everyone else at their events already?” I ask, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it.

“Yep. Remind me, what time were you going to visit Tae?” He asks as I take a bite.

I chew and swallow then respond, “11:30 or so.”

“Ah okay,” Namjoon says as Jimin and Hobi come over.

“Hey Y/n!” Jimin’s very energetic this morning, but that’s nothing new.

What is new is that he gives me a giant hug and I laugh as I’m almost bowled over.

“Hi?” I ask, confused at why he’s so giddy.

“Guess what?!” He asks, making me scrunch my brows.

“What?” It’s like talking to a five year old.

“I have a gift from Tae to you!” He cheers, grabbing my hand excitedly.

I feel warm at his touch, but try to ignore it, as I always do.

“That’s so sweet of you and Tae,” I say, thinking of how it was just yesterday that I got a new dress from Namjoon (even if Jungkook spilled coffee on it).

“Let’s go get it now!” Jimin pulls me gently to the stairs and I look at Hobi and Namjoon but they just wave us on, grinning.

“Is it another dress, Jimin?” I guess, based on how Taehyung is literally a fashion designer.

“Nope. Tae wanted to do something different, so he and I came up with another idea.” We’re in front of Taehyung’s room and Jimin opens the door without a second thought.

“Now, where did he put it?” He asks absentmindedly, searching through Taehyung’s desk drawers.

I just stand there awkwardly, unsure of what to do with myself.

“Aha! Here it is.” Jimin gives me a small box that looks suspiciously like a ring box.

“Well, open it!” Jimin urges.

I hesitantly open the velvet box, and there inside is a gorgeous ring. I gasp as the precious gems shine in the light of Taehyung’s chandelier.

Jimin has a soft smile on his face, a stark contrast to his previous childlike energy.

“Do you like it?” He asks quietly, and I can feel him looking at me.

“It’s gorgeous,” I whisper, unsure of how I can even wear this properly. It’s meant for the rich main lead in a kdrama, not a broke college student like myself.

“Let’s put it on.”

Jimin takes it carefully out of the box and slips it onto my right ring finger. It’s perfectly snug there, and I can’t stop staring at the way the stones glisten and gleam in the warm light.

“You know, there’s a meaning behind each stone,” Jimin says.

I look at the big stone, which so happens to be my birthstone, and the seven smaller ones nestled around it.

“The big one is your birthstone, obviously,” Jimin says, then points to the smaller ones around it, “And these are all of our birthstones. It took a while to make, but it was worth it.”

Jimin looks at me and I look at him. We lean in closer, and my breath hitches. I study his face. The shape of his brows, the crinkle of his eyes and the deep color of them. The slope of his nose and his perfect pink lips. He’s so beautiful; an angel in both inside and out.

He blinks and I snap out of my stupor. I lean back into normal proximity and thank him.

“Oh, Jimin. It’s so wonderful,” I say, trying to make my voice sound normal and not as if we were just about to kiss, “You and Tae are so creative.”

“I’m so glad you like it. Make sure to wear it to his gallery.”

Jimin looks like he wants to say something else, but doesn’t. Instead he nods then leaves.

I stand there looking at the ring. Specifically the seven stones that circle my birthstone. The shades of purple, white, and three hues of blue shine bright. This gift feels more meaningful than all the others.

It’s almost like…a promise ring.

I drive to Tae’s gallery and park. The ring sparkles all the way there, and I decide it looks better in the sunlight.

I hop out of the car and lock it. Stowing the keys away in my purse I make my way into the fashion gallery. This event is honestly more casual than the art gallery that Namjoon and I went to yesterday so my jeans and Jungkook’s sweatshirt looks normal here. It’s funny to see everyone in casual clothing around avant-garde clothing, though.

I look at the signs and make my way to Tae’s gallery. Each designer has ten pieces they’re showing, and I pass some amazing pieces on my way to Tae’s. Just like the art gallery, the designers have the option to sell some (or all) of their clothing.

Finally I see a familiar face. Scratch that, two familiar faces. What’s Jungkook doing here?

Taehyung’s face lights up as he sees me and waves me over.

“Y/n!”

I walk faster and Jungkook turns around and grins too.

“Hey guys!” I bounce on my toes, excited to see them.

They laugh and Jungkook says, “You’re probably wondering why I’m here, right Y/n?”

I nod, and say “Yes! Wait, no, but not in a bad way. Just like curious because I thought you had to be at the film festival-“

“It’s all good Y/n. I’m here because…” Jungkook trails off and I want to smack him.

“Just spit it out!” I frustratedly say.

“Fine. Because I wanted to be,” he cheekily says.

I scoff at his answer.

“Wow, Y/n that ring looks so great on you!” Tae burst out, reaching and inspecting my finger.

“Wait, you really went through it?” Asks Jungkook, also now looking at my finger.

“Yes. Don’t I have good taste, Kookie?” Taehyung boasts.

“Fine. I will admit that it looks great, babe,” Jungkook admits, snapping a photo of it with my phone.

I pull my hand away, embarrassed, then say, “Thank you both. Now can we look at Tae’s designs?”

Jungkook and Taehyung cheekily grin at my reaction.

“Of course.”

Taehyung gives us a tour of his ten pieces.

“So, my theme for this collection is love,” he explains, walking us back to the start of his designs.

“It’s so cliche,” Jungkook whispers loudly to me, making me stifle a giggle. Taehyung acts like he didn’t hear him and carries on.

“Each design is inspired by one of the boys, myself included. Because self-love is important too, right? But each design is more detailed than what a normal person would wear. The remaining two represent our love as a whole,” he says.

That’s so cool-wait. That’s only nine. What about the last one?

“Wow, I love that they inspired you. That’s so sweet,” I praise, still curious about the last piece.

“Thank you. Now, Y/n, I have a challenge for you,” Taehyung says, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

“Try to guess which designs are inspired by each of my boyfriends,” Taehyung challenges.

I agree, only because we’re celebrating Taehyung’s designs so I feel bad saying no to him.

“Hmmm…” I wonder aloud. This should be easier than it is. My first guess is that the black and white ensemble represents Jungkook. It has his signature chunky boots, and I look closer and see that they are embroidered with thin silver thread.

“That one’s Jungkook.” I point and Taehyung claps his hands.

“That’s correct! Kookie has a very distinct style, so I’m honestly not surprised that you guessed his first.” We go over to the outfit as Taehyung explains more.

“I went with the black and white ensemble because it represents Kook’s duality. He may seem deep and dark, wearing black and having tattoos, but in reality he’s as pure at the color white, kind and caring.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a kiss on the cheek as Jungkook’s blushes at the description of his outfit.

“Stop it hyung,” he whines, but allows the older boy to pepper kisses on his face.

“You know you like it Kookie,” Taehyung says, squishing Jungkook’s cheeks.

“Just guess Y/n!” Jungkook exclaims in an effort to draw the attention away from him.

I scan the remaining outfits and point to the one that looks like a stylish rainbow exploded on it.

“That’s Hobi’s, right?” Only his could be so colorful.

“Correct! Our Hobi-hyung is a bright soul, so I tried to represent that with this piece. I incorporated his street style too,” Taehyung proudly states, showing me the chic yet hip hop-eque outfit.

I guess next that the dark yet layered outfit is Yoongi.

“Correct again! Yoongi-hyung’s was an interesting outfit to create,” Taehyung explains, “He has so many different levels and layers to him, like an onion. Some seem dark, yet when you peel them all back, he’s really just a generous and understanding soul.” It definitely represents Yoongi; he can be aloof at the beginning but once you get to know him he’s such a warm person.

It’s difficult to choose which one is Jin but I eventually settle on the one that is soft yet also sharp.

“That’s Jin,” I say, hoping I’m correct.

Jungkook whistles.

“Damn, Y/n, I’m impressed. I even had difficulty figuring it out,” he says.

“Yep that’s Jin-hyung,” Taehyung says, “His represents the delicate balance between his personality. He is a kind and caring person, but also has boundaries and has respect for himself.”

Damn. Taehyung really captured the boys in all their deep personalities.

“Is this one Namjoon?” The outfit has a sort of scholarly appearance, yet there’s a heavier feeling to it.

“It is. Joon-hyung is a very intelligent person, yet he wears pressure on his back. He often feels that he has to provide and care for us more than the others because of his profession,” Taehyung explains.

I must look confused because Jungkook elaborates.

“Namjoon-hyung is the only one of us that doesn’t have an ‘artsy’ career, per se. Because of that he feels the need to prove to us that he’s worthy of being in our creative relationship.”

What? That’s crazy.

“That is such a stupid reason to feel inferior for!” I exclaim, “He’s so smart and teaching is one of the hardest jobs out there! It also requires some sort of creativity, doesn’t it?” To think that brilliant and kind Namjoon feels this way is crazy.

“You’re absolutely right, Y/n. We’re so glad you think this too,” Jungkook says, looking me dead in the eyes.

I stare back, coming to realize how dark his eyes are. They’re captivating me, pulling me in deeper and deeper until-

“Ahem.”

Taehyung coughs and I jump, while Jungkook just continues to stare.

“Right…so I guess I need to choose which one is you and which one is Jimin,” I say uncomfortably, trying to ignore Jungkook’s prolonged staring.

“Yep. Choose between these two.”

I study the outfits. They’re clearly a pair, one representing the day and the other the night.

The day piece is dazzling, cream and honey hues blended together to create a show stopping outfit. There are crystals sewn together to make a sun pattern and if an outfit could glow, this would be it. There’s also a singular royal blue thread sewn in it, something I assume to represent the night.

If the day outfit is meant to glow, the night one is meant to sparkle. The deepest shade of navy catches the light and show the shimmers of the fabric. Deep jewel colored crystals make an abstract galaxy. Similarly to the day piece, the night one has a single golden thread running through it.

“I think that Jimin is the sun piece and you’re the galaxy piece.” I’m unsure as I say this, but I’ve clearly made the right decision because Jungkook finally stops peering into my soul and breaks into a grin.

I sigh a breath of relief.

“You’re really good at this, Y/n,” Taehyung says.

“Explain the meaning behind them, Tae,” Jungkook urges.

Taehyung’s face becomes dreamy and he smiles softly.

“Well, Jiminie and I are soulmates. He’s the day to my night. I made the day piece to try to capture how bright and vibrant he is. He makes me so happy, and I wanted him to know he’s my sun.”

My eyes trace Taehyung’s face and his expression. He’s irrevocably infatuated just simply speaking about his love. I feel my eyes well slightly, wondering just how one person can love another that much.

“That’s the most beautiful thing,” I murmer, blinking my tears away.

“Thank you. I in many ways feel that I am not worthy of my Jiminie, but he continues to praise me even though I don’t think I deserve it,” Taehyung says, tearing his eyes away from the golden dress.

“Don’t say that, from what I’ve seen you two and everyone else in your guys’ relationship are perfect for each other. It’s as if the individual pieces of your souls came together to love one another.” I struggle to try to explain what I mean.

Jungkook quirks his head.

“Say, Y/n, have you ever been in love before?”

The question throws me off guard. Have I ever been in love before?

“Um, I’m not sure. That’s a pretty deep question,” I stutter out, even though I know the answer.

No.

“Well, yeah, but I’m curious.” Jungkook shrugs.

Jungkook and Taehyung look at me now, waiting for an answer.

I attempt to give them one.

“I…don’t know if you can call it love, per se,” I start. “I maybe once thought I was in love, but it didn’t work out.”

They look at each other, sympathy (or pity?) in their eyes.

“It’s alright, I understand. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Jungkook apologizes.

I turn back to the remaining dresses.

“It’s okay. Now, can I ask about the remaining dresses?”

“Sure.” As Taehyung goes on to explain that two of the dresses represent his relationship with the boys, I try to ignore the deep pit of sadness in my heart.

After he explains I finally point to the last piece, asking what’s been on the tip of my tongue this whole time.

“Okay! Tell me what this is about!” I’m eager to find out the meaning of the ethereal looking dress. It’s honestly my favorite out of the bunch because of the style. It looks like a fairy dress and is made with the airiest material. It seems as if it’s floating, even while on the mannequin.

Taehyung’s mouth quirks and he responds, “It’s a secret.”

“Whyyyy?” I whine, but Taehyung and Jungkook just laugh at my pouty expression.

“Because. I can’t tell you now, but I will eventually,” Taehyung promises.

“Fine,” I grumble, giving a look of distain to the dress. It may be beautiful (alright, it’s one of the most gorgeous dresses I’ve ever seen) but I just want to know why he made such a beautiful dress.

“Anyways, want to go to lunch?” Jungkook asks me.

We bid goodbye to Taehyung (who has to stay for the rest of the afternoon) and make our way outside to eat then finish our day.

Wednesday arrives with an early start. The film festival is today, and it’s an all day affair. There’s a meet and greet in the morning, a luncheon, a q and a in the afternoon, and finally the showing of the films. We all are going to all the events to support Jungkook and Jin. Jin was in Jungkook’s film as the lead, and I’m really excited to see the outcome.

After getting ready I head downstairs. The hyungs are all sitting at the table having breakfast but the maknaes are nowhere in sight, which doesn’t surprise me.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Jin greets, raising his coffee mug in greeting. Namjoon and Hobi repeat the message while Yoongi just grunts.

“Good morning to you too, Yoodles,” I tease, enjoying the way he pulls himself back into his hoodie.

“The maknaes are still sleeping, if you couldn’t already tell,” Hobi says.

I nod then sit down and start eating some French toast.

“I predict that Jungkook will be the last to get up because he’s so tired from the prep for today,” Namjoon says.

That makes sense. I know that Jungkook took a break yesterday to visit Taehyung’s gallery and go out to lunch with me but this film is very important for his future career.

After a couple minutes of a peaceful breakfast, Jimin and Taehyung come loudly down the stairs.

“What time is it? Are we late?” Jimin asks, hastily buttoning his shirt while Taehyung pulls on his socks.

“No you guys are fine,” Namjoon assures them, “Jungkook isn’t even awake yet.”

They visibly relax.

“Come eat,” I encourage, gesturing to the table.

They thank me then plop down tiredly.

We all finish eating, having quiet conversations and just soaking in the morning sunlight streaming in from the windows.

Jin checks his watch.

“Hmm. Someone needs to go wake Jungkook up or else he’ll be late. Any volunteers?” He asks.

Jimin does and we all clean up but save some french toast for Jungkook.

“Everyone, meet back down here in 30! Team, break!” Hobi cheers, our sign to go get ready.

I too go upstairs to change into something nicer. I search through my closet and find my favorite sundress and put it on. I fix a bow in my hair and grab my wedges. Taehyung’s ring sparkles on my dresser, and I hesitate before gingerly slipping it on.

I’m checking my phone when I leave my room and bump into Yoongi.

“Yoongi? What’s up?” I ask, shoving my phone into my purse.

“Hobi wanted me to tell you that you’re sitting shotgun,” Yoongi says, looking put out.

“Aww, is that why you came all the way over here?” I say, thinking about the short distance that it took for Yoongi to walk from his room to mine.

“Shut up. We leave in ten.” With that, Yoongi walks slowly off, looking like a tired middle aged father.

I shake my head, grinning at the image in my head. Then I head downstairs to put on my shoes.

“Here, let me,” Jin says, already waiting at the door. He looks good in a button up and nice jeans that hug his ass. Wait, what?

“Thanks Jin,” I say, surprised at the princess like treatment, but accept it anyways. It is a pain to put on taller shoes in a dress.

“Of course honey,” Jin says, going back to waiting by the door.

He’s says it like a casual nickname, except it feels intimate to me.

“Aish, these boys. I love them, I really do, but they are always running late. HURRY UP!” He yells.

“Coming, coming!” Namjoon is rushing down with Yoongi and Hobi following close behind.

“Where are the maknaes?” Jin asks them as they put their shoes on.

“Dunno. They all converged in Jungkook’s room and haven’t come out yet,” Hobi explains.

“Goddamn it. We’re gonna to be late. I’ll go get them,” Jin says, shaking his head as he hastily takes his shoes off and storms upstairs. “YAH! MAKNAES!”

I chuckle then turn to Hobi.

“Yoongi over here told me I’m riding shotgun? I feel like that someone else should take it, not me,” I say. Why would I get a whole seat to myself if the boys are squished in the back?

“Because we can’t have you ruining your pretty outfit, precious,” he says, adjusting my bow in my hair.

“Oh. Well it’s really okay. I don’t want the boys to have to squish in the back,” I say as Jin comes down scolding the maknaes.

“It’s fine, really. Don’t worry so much. Now, let’s go!”

Before I can say another word Hobi ushers me out to the door and opens the car door for me.

I try to protest again but he just gives me a look and I reluctantly get into.

Jungkook takes the wheel while Yoongi, Hobi, and Jimin take the back row. Jin, Namjoon, and Taehyung squeeze in the middle row.

“Sorry guys,” I say apologetically, turning to look at them squished in like sardines.

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” Yoongi says, putting his arm around Hobi.

“Yeah! This way we get to be close to our loves,” Taehyung says, squeezing the life out of Jin, who just fondly rolls his eyes.

“Yep. So let’s go!” Jungkook peals out of the parking lot and I grab onto the door.

“Oh yeah, Jungkook drives kind of crazy, just so you know,” Jimin says, nonchalantly looking out the window.

I knew that he drove a little wild because he’s driven me to class before, but I guess we’re in a rush today so he’s driving a bit crazier.

“Yeah…I know,” I say, trying not to react when Jungkook runs a yellow light.

“Yeah!” He says, grinning widely.

“Yah! Be careful, we don’t want you to crash the car before your film debut, okay?” Jin angrily says, but I can tell it’s just for show. Still, a warning is appreciated.

“I’m fine Jin-hyung. We’re almost there, so hold on!” Jungkook accelerates, which makes my heart also speed up.

Please let us get there in one piece, I think.

After many sharp turns and questionable decisions (at least in my book) we make it to the building.

“Whew, that was a rush,” Hobi says, climbing out of the car.

“Oh whatever Hobi-hyung. I have to go get ready for the meet and greet, so see you guys soon!” Jungkook dashes off and we’re all left standing there.

“We have about an hour before the meet and greet starts, so let’s go look at the exhibits about the films,” Namjoon suggests.

We walk over to the mini outside exhibit and go to Jungkook’s. It’s got a small synopsis of the film and a poster for it. His is called ‘Still With You’ and I get a sense of pride seeing his film company name of Golden Closet Films.

“There’s Jin-hyung!” Taehyung points to the poster proudly and there’s Jin, looking as ethereal as ever dressed in a lavish prince outfit. He’s staring off into the distance in the silvery night as the moon shines down on him.

“Wow. Aren’t I handsome?” Jin jokes, mimicking his dreamy gaze that’s on the poster.

“Yeah yeah, we know. Now, let’s take a picture in front of our Jungkookie’s poster!” Hobi exclaims, passing his phone off to a stranger, “Excuse me, could you take our picture?”

“I can,” I say, reaching for it but he shakes his head.

“No, you’re going to be in it silly,” he says, like it’s the most normal thing ever.

“But-“

“No buts. You’ve been living with us long enough, just be in the picture.” They all insist so I squeeze in between Hobi and Jimin.

“Smile!” Says the person.

I grin as there’s a click.

“Great! Now a silly one,” they say.

Everyone instantly makes a goofy face. I act surprised and give Jimin bunny ears.

Click!

“These are so good! Thank you,” Hobi says, retrieving his phone.

The stranger nods then walks away. We all gather around to look at the photos.

“Aww, we look so cute. All we’re missing is Kook,” says Taehyung.

Then we look at the silly picture.

“Hah! Look at Yoongi’s face!” Jin jabs his finger to the phot and I look. Yoongi’s deadpanning in the middle of the chaos that’s happening around him.

“He truly is a rock,” Jimin says, poking Yoongi’s cheek.

“Whatever,” Yoongi grumbles, “Let’s just look at the other exhibits.”

An hour later it’s time for the meet and greet. It’s basically just a party where the creators walk around and talk about their films.

“Ooh they have mini sandwiches,” I say, beelining to the refreshments table.

“I’ll come with you.” Yoongi, ever the introvert, shoos the other boys away to go find Jungkook so he can avoid people and come with me.

“You don’t have to come with me, I’m a big girl,” I say, amused.

“Just shut up. I need a break from those extroverts.” Yoongi rolls his eye and grabs a cup of punch and I get my mini sandwiches.

“Not a big fan of parties?” I ask, enjoying the peaceful corner we have by the silk covered table.

“What makes you say that?” He smirks as we survey the chatter

and buzz around us.

“Nothing.”

We stand there in peace for a couple minutes before I sigh.

“Jungkook will probably come looking for us soon, so we should go before he finds us,” I say, throwing my plate away.

“Too late.” Yoongi tilts his head to the right and I hear a familiar voice.

“Why are you two hiding over here?” Jungkook’s voice is projected across the room and he comes over to us, dragging all the others boys with him. He’s all dressed up in a tux. Damn, he looks good.

“No reason. Congrats Jungkookie,” Yoongi says smoothly finishing his punch and throwing it away.

“Thanks Yoongi-hyung. I’m so excited for you guys to see it!” Jungkook exclaims enthusiastically.

“Me too!” I say, “It’s going to be so amazing, just judging off the poster alone.”

“It turned out so well! Everything is exactly as I hoped it would be,” Jungkook says.

“Excuse me, are you Jeon Jungkook?” A handsome older man is standing there, a smile on his face.

“Yes, I am.” Jungkook looks slightly shocked and I wonder who this man is.

“Well, I just wanted to say that I look forward to seeing your work. It looks very promising,” handsome man says.

Jungkook bows his head, saying “Thank you Mr. Kim. This means so much coming from you.”

Mr. Kim bows back then winks and takes his leave.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe that just happened!” Jungkook says, bouncing on his toes.

“I’m proud of you Kook, but who exactly was that?” I ask, curious at who made Jungkook so excited.

“That’s Mr. Jongwon Kim. He’s a huge name in the film industry and also happens to be an alumni. He always comes to the film festival but only rarely takes interest in any film,” Jungkook says, intriguing us all, “For him to compliment my work is the highest honor.”

“Wow~our Jungkookie is talented!” Hobi compliments, giving Jungkook a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Stop it hyung!” Jungkook whines, but smiles at Hobi’s affection.

“Yeah, congrats Jungkook,” I say, amazed (but not really) at Jungkook’s reputation in the film industry.

“Thanks Y/n,” Jungkook says, beaming proudly as the rest of the boys shower him with praises.

The luncheon is next, but is a relatively boring affair. At least we get free food. And with Jungkook and Jin next to me they make it at least a little entertaining. Jungkook is constantly giving me little tidbits about the people around us (“That boy over there is a nepo baby.”) and Jin is criticizing the food (“This is too bland. What did they put in here, soap?”)

I continuously laugh when I’m by them, but try my best to stifle it in order to not spit my food out.

After the delicious but dreadful luncheon it’s time for the q and a portion of the day. The filmmakers sit at a long table in the front while the audience and various press members sit it in a crowd. It’s very much a press conference and a way for people to brag about their films.

The boys’ and I sit in a row, looking proudly at Jungkook. I can tell he’s a bit nervous, but he’s doing his best.

“Alright, we’ll begin the q and a now! Remember to be respectful, we’re all here to appreciate the art these filmmakers have created!” The director says, then it’s time for the questions.

“This is a question for Frost Films. What inspired you to make your film?” The first question isn’t directed towards Jungkook, and I can tell he’s a bit relieved.

The person answers the question and it continues on.

Jungkook’s eyes drift over towards us and he makes eye contact with me. I smile at him and give him a thumbs up, then a heart. He smiles and looks away.

“Okay! The next question is for Golden Closet Films.” We all perk up at that and Jungkook grabs his mic.

“So, what, or who, inspired Still With You?”

The question is a simple one, yet an important one.

“I would say that my boyfriends definitely inspired my film,” Jungkook says, “Still With You is a story about everlasting love, hence the title. I hope that my boyfriends’ and I have everlasting love and will always stay with me.”

The boys look at Jungkook adoringly and he looks back at them, love showing in his eyes.

“That is such an inspirational story,” the interviewer says, “Thank you for sharing.”

Jungkook nods then shows a small shy smile as he glances down at the boys once again.

“I have a question for Golden Closet Films as well,” the next interviewer says, and the boys and I once again sit up.

“You said your film is about your boyfriends, plural tense. Aren’t you afraid that’s a bit…forward of you?” This interviewer sounds slightly offended, like Jungkook being gay or having multiple boyfriends is wrong.

Jungkook looks a little shocked and I can see the boys grow angry around me.

“Oh hell no. I’m about to go up there.” Namjoon clenches his jaw as he says this.

Yoongi gives him a look and replies “Don’t you dare. Let him handle it.”

Agonizing seconds pass before Jungkook responds.

“I…It’s my film,” says Jungkook hesitantly, “And I wanted to show my love for my boyfriends. If love is too forward, then I suggest you watch another film.”

The boys start clapping and I do too. The audience joins in, and I see Jungkook take a sigh of relief.

“Woo! That’s our Jungkookie!” Hobi whoops and I laugh.

It quiets down again and the q and a continues on. Although there are still a few questions for Jungkook, none are offensive and are instead about the creative process for his film.

The q and a lasts longer than I think is necessary before we’re finally standing up and leaving.

“Whew. I thought I’d have to throw hands,” Taehyung whispers to me as he stretches his back.

“I know. That question was so rude,” I say quietly back as we start to walk to get ready to go see the films (yay more sitting…).

“Honestly. Are you excited to see Jungkookie on the red carpet?” Taehyung asks as we make our way outside where the sun is hanging low in the sky.

“Wait, there’s a red carpet?” I ask, now understanding why Jungkook was so formally dressed.

“Yep. So we better take lots of pictures of Kookie,” says Jimin, barging in between Taehyung and I and linking his arms through ours. He starts skipping, making me and Taehyung join in. I think we look similar to the Wizard of Oz characters skipping down the yellow brick road.

“Oh yeah! Let’s see how our baby rocks the red carpet,” Hobi chimes in.

“I’m sure he’ll do great, as he always does.” Namjoon is holding hands with Yoongi and they share a smile thinking about Jungkook.

“That he does,” I say.

We reach the red carpet and there’s already a ton of people there. Photographers are lined up and I can’t see through the crowd.

“Here, Y/n, take this.” Namjoon gives me a lanyard and I put it on. We now can move up closer and we all go to a designated spot for special guests.

“Shouldn’t it just be you guys?” I ask, confused as to why I’m standing here. I should be with the general public. I’m not Jungkook’s girlfriend.

“No, you live with us. You’re a part of this family, Y/n, whether you want to believe it or not,” Namjoon says, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“Yeah. And besides, Jungkook would kill us if you weren’t here,” Yoongi chimes in, casually coming to stand closer to me.

“Oh, well thanks guys.” I’m yet again wrestling with my thoughts. Jungkook cares. They care. Namjoon’s hand is on my shoulder. Yoongi is so close.

“Sure, Y/n, anytime.” Namjoon smiles.

I’m about to respond when my attention is drawn to the red carpet where the crowd is roaring and the photographers are clicking their cameras nonstop.

“It’s them!” Jimin says, trying to see. He cranes his neck so Taehyung grabs his waist and hoists him up a little.

“Hope you can see now, Jiminie,” he teases, enjoying Jimin squirm in his hold.

“Taehyung! Put me down!” He complains, wriggling like a worm until he’s let down and settles for going in the front so he can see better.

“Calm down you brats, Jungkook’s about to go.” Jin is looking to the nervous figure standing by the red carpet.

Jungkook’s nibbling his lip slightly and is constantly adjusting his hair. A woman who is directing people comes over and says something to him. He nods, then straightens up, fixing his tuxedo and ruffling his hair one last time.

The lady goes onto the red carpet as the person prior is ushered off.

“The maker of the film Still With You by Golden Closet Films, Jeon Jungkook,” she states, then leaves and gestures for Jungkook to go on the carpet.

The crowd goes wild, us included.

“JUNGKOOK! WE LOVE YOU!” We all yell in unison, making him grin as he strolls slowly to the middle, the image of confidence, despite being nervous mere moments earlier.

Once in the middle he poses with the elegance of a model and straight up smirks into the cameras. Damn his fucking perfect face. My heart is having palpitations and I swear he looks at me for a brief second. Why do I feel like a crazy fangirl?

“Jungkook!”

“Over here!”

“To the right!”

The photographers shout too many instructions at Jungkook, but he merely turns his body and head slowly, posing for all the cameras.

After a couple minutes of this, a man comes to usher Jungkook off. He waves as he leaves and when he passes by us he winks, but his eyes are trained on me. I look back into his dark ones and I swear that time slows down. But, soon enough, the roar of the crowd comes back and Jungkook’s gone inside.

“You good, Y/n?” Yoongi asks me, ever the observant one.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I say, my eyes trained on the last spot where Jungkook was before he left.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, turning back to the red carpet where another filmmaker is.

I do too, but can’t seem to focus on the person on it. All I can think about is Jungkook. How perfect he looked on the red carpet, how he looked so naturally like a model, how he should’ve been the film star instead of the one making it.

You like him, you like him, the voice in your head taunts. You try to shake it off like normal but it doesn’t go away. And, with the way Jungkook was looking at you, you can’t deny that you feel something stronger than just a simple crush.

“Hey Y/n, you ready to go inside?” Jimin asks, and I blink. All the boys are staring at me and the crowd is thinned.

“Oh, yeah. Let’s go,” I say, trying to snap out of it. I can’t believe I zoned out so much.

The theatre is nothing but grand, with ornate details carve into the stone on the outside. Inside, the marble floor shines as we go to theatre seven where Jungkook’s film is being shown.

“Tickets?” Asks the attendant standing next to Jungkook’s poster with Jin’s face.

Jin produces seven tickets and hands them to the attendant.

“You may order food and drink inside. Enjoy.” She smiles as she pulls back the black velvet curtain. I feel like I’m about to go see an opera, not a film.

“Thank you,”I say to her as I pass.

Inside is grand, just as I expected. Plush crimson crushed velvet seats are set in neat rows, with tables attached to each one for food and drink. The screen is absolutely huge, and I can’t wait to see the film projected on it.

“We’re sitting right in the middle where the best spots are,” Jimin murmers into my ear. I suppress a shudder and nod.

“Jungkook!” Taehyung rushes over to where the lone figure is sitting in the middle row.

“Tae!” He stands up and hugs him then grins at the rest of us, “I’m so excited for you guys to see it!”

“We’re so excited too,” Hobi says, gesturing for us to file in to the row. I somehow end up between Jungkook and Jin. Great, the stars of the show.

“Don’t you guys want to sit next to each other in case of pictures?” I ask them, getting ready to stand and switch.

“No, it’s fine, Y/n, sit,” Jungkook insists, laying his hand on top of mine and forcing me to sit back down.

I’m sat, and cross my arms at Jin’s chuckle.

“Honey, don’t pout. Now, what food should we order?” He pulls out a fancy menu that I didn’t see before.

“Definitely popcorn, but is there anything else you want to eat, Y/n?” Jungkook asks, and I flip through my menu. Everything is supremely overpriced, and is that caviar?

“Are you sure? Even the popcorn’s a lot,” I say, thinking how it better be the best thing I’ve put in my mouth if it costs that much.

“I’m sure. And if you don’t want anything else then I’ll get you a large popcorn with extra butter and a medium cherry vanilla Dr. Pepper,” Jungkook declares.

How does everyone know my drink order? And how did he know that I wanted extra butter?

“Okay, but let me pay you back at the house.” I can’t believe that it costs so much, but with the sheer exterior of this place I should’ve expected this.

“No, it’s fine. Besides, we all get it for free because we’re Jungkook’s guests and he’s a filmmaker,” Jin says, then promptly orders for him and me.

“Are you excited to see my film?” Jungkook asks me eagerly, leaning in and waiting intently for my answer.

“Yeah, I am!” I say, leaning slightly back so we’re not in each other’s personal space.

“I’m glad. Did you have fun at the rest of the festival so far?” Jungkook asks me, leaning in again.

“Um, yeah I did,” I say, still leaning slightly back.

“Mhm. And the after party is going to be awesome too.” By now Jungkook is leaning so far into my space that I am almost leaning against Jin.

“Woah, you okay there?” Jin asks me, gently holding my shoulders as I accidentally knock into his chest. His broad, muscular chest, my brain unhelpfully thinks.

“Yeah, thanks Jin,” I mumble, trying to not sit up too much but also trying to not lie in Jin’s lap.

“Sure, honey. Our food will be here soon, so why don’t you get comfortable?” Jin then gently helps me sit up and much to my dismay I am now face to face with Jungkook.

“You alright, Y/n?” Jungkook asks me, and he’s so close that he can probably hear the loud thumping of my heart. I can smell his cologne, a rich mix between sweet with a slightly more smoky scent underneath. It’s so unique that I feel drawn to him. I wonder if this is his normal cologne, or if I’m just really close to him. Yeah. I’m really close to him. Close enough to almost k-I blink before realizing he asked me a question.

“Sorry, what?” I ask, still dazed by his scent.

“I asked if you were alr-“

“Hello, here are your refreshments. Please let us know if you need anything else. Enjoy the show!” The impeccably dressed waiters deliver our ‘refreshments’ and I take a piece of the popcorn.

Okay, it might not be the best food I’ve ever put in my mouth but it’s pretty damn close. I’m afraid I’ll devour this all before the film even starts.

“Is it good?” Jin asks me and I nod.

The lights suddenly dim, and I can hear Jungkook whisper, “It’s finally starting.”

a/n: i hate to leave you guys on a cliffhanger, but the next chapter is going to be a mini one that’s simply the film!! hope you enjoyed reading, this took me a hot minute to write but i’m so happy with how it came out. 🩷🫶🏼

#bts #bts ot7 #bts ot7 x reader #ot7 bts #bts college au #bts x reader #college!au #btsot7 #marblemoonstones

32 notes · View notes

toasttt11 · 9 months ago

Text

confessions

November 17, 2023

Lex ignored the look she knew was coming from Rutger and continued tying her skates.

“You know you can’t ignore him forever right.” Frank leaned over from where he sat in his stall next to hers whispering, Lex looked up glaring at him making Frank put his hands up in defense.

Lex finished her skates and stood up slipping on the rest of her gear and putting on her number four jersey with her embroidered A on it, and headed with her team as they headed towards the rink.

“Can we please talk after this.” Rutger softly whispered to Lex as he caught up with her. He knew she’s been ignoring him for the last week since they almost kissed.

Lex looked over seeing Rutger looking like a kicked puppy and nodded agreeing to talk before they focused on the game.

Lex was passing the puck across the ice to Rutger who took the onetimer as Lex watched him get smashed into the boards, and it felt like time stopped as she watched the way his stick slowly drop as he crumpled to the floor.

Lex barely remembers moving before she was on top of the player who had hit Rutger and she could feel the blood on her knuckles as she hit him straight across the nose before she was pulled off.

Lex stood with her team as they watch Rutger get loaded onto the stretcher in obvious pain and hurried out of Yost.

“You good to play.” Jacob mumbled to Lex knowing how she cares for Rutger.

“Let’s kick their asses.” Lex looked at her captain, determined for Rutger, for Dylan and for Mark who were both injured as well in this game.

And Michigan did just that. Lex getting the winning goal, making them win 6-4.

Lex quickly rushed a shower and changed into a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt and saw almost all of her teammates getting dressed quickly to go see Rutger.

Lex silently handed the keys to Frank not sure if she wanted to drive this emotional and knew Frank would understand.

Lex looked out the window not even noticing they had got to the hospital until Frank gently nudged her arm, her head snapped up and saw they were there.

The whole hockey team met up with Rutger’s parents and sister as Rutger was with the doctor getting everything checked over and figuring out what the problems were.

Lex sat down next to Molly having always been close to her and grabbed her hand giving it a squeeze and Molly leaned her head on Lex’s shoulder sniffing worried for her brother.

It felt like forever before the doctor finally came out, “Good news your son is okay,” the words brought sighs of relief across the room, “Bad news he does have a punctured lung and broke rib.”

Cindy and Jim took in a sharp breath worried for their son.

“He should be awake in the morning and we given him meds to sleep through then night to start his body healing faster.” The doctor finished and excused themselves.

Rutger’s parents and Molly went into the room first spending a few minutes alone with a sleeping Rutger, before they gestured for the team all to squeeze into the room.

They all spent a few hours all huddled in the room all worried for Rutger, before Cindy told most of the team to get back to school and get some sleep. Cindy got all of the stubborn boys to head back but Lex was even more stubborn and she stayed in the chair in the room.

Frank rested his hand on her shoulder, “Want me to take you car back?” He leaned down to one of his best friends.

Lex nodded and handed her keys to him.

Cindy had Jim take Molly home wanting them to get a goodnight sleep at home.

“You care a lot for my son?” Cindy looked over at the girl she knows her son has been in love with for years and she seen her grow up.

Lex looked up at someone who’s always felt like another mother to her and knew she couldn’t lie, “I always have.” She admitted the truth.

“I know.” Cindy smiled softly having seen how much Lex has taken care of Rutger over the past few years, “He loves you, you know.”

“I know.” Lex soflty nodded knowing how much Rutger cares for her and some days she feels as if she doesn’t deserve all his love.

“Give him a chance.” Cindy softly squeezed her hand and sent Lex a motherly smile.

“I plan too.” Lex soflty smiled as she looked at sleeping Rutger and felt some tension come out of her shoulders seeing him peacefully sleeping even though he is badly injured.

November 18, 2023

“Mom?” Rutger groggily spoke feeling her hand brush his hair as he slowly woke up in the hospital bed.

“Hi honey.” Cindy McGroarty smiled softly down at her son who gave her the scare of a lifetime, “How you feeling?”

“Alright.” Rutger softly muttered back, “Where’s Mols and Dad?”

“I sent them to get something to eat.” Cindy replied, “Your teammates were all here last night but they had to go back to get some sleep, expect one wouldn’t leave the whole night and stayed with me.”

Lex was curled in one the hospital chair with a blanket draped over her, Rutger smiled softly seeing her. Cindy smiled at her son’s smitten look and knew the two would get together eventually.

A few hours had went by and the doctor had come in to talk to Rutger.

“How long am i going to be out?” Rutger desperately questioned knowing the World Junior Championship is in a few weeks.

“Six to eight weeks, depending on how fast you heal.” The doctor informed him.

Rutger head dropped and he could feel the tears fill his eyes realizing he most likely won’t be able to play, Lex frowned grabbing his free hand squeezing it tightly.

Rutger took a shuttering breath leaning his head back onto the pillows, he squeezed his hand.

His parents and sister had walked out of the room to talk more with doctor out of the room.

“Do you think i’ll be able to play?” Rutger choked out looking at Lex, his face covered in tears and the saddest frown on his face.

Lex looked at Rutger feeling her heart break seeing how devastated he is, “I think you will.” Lex had a feeling Rutger would heal in time to he able to play.

November 20, 2023

Lex went to her classes when she woke knowing Rutger was coming home today and she made sure to grab all his work as they have almost every class together.

She drove over to his parents house and knocked on the door, Cindy smiled at her as she opened the door, “Lex come in!”

Lex smiled waking in, adjusting her backpack on her shoulders, “How’s he doing?”

“Good today, think he is happy to be home.” Cindy smiled walking her down to Rutgers room, “He is pretty out of it today and been sleeping most of the day.” She opened the door to Rutger’s room and he was fast asleep in the middle of his bed.

“That’s okay, i just wanted to check on him and i brought his work so whenever he’s ready to start working on that.” Lex smiled and opened her backpack pulling out the work for Rutger and set it on his desk.

Cindy stayed at the door smiling at Lex, Lex walked over leaning down pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead before leaning up and walking back to the door.

“You can stay you know.” Cindy smiled soflty at her.

“Thank you but i should probably get back to the house and get some work done before practice later.”

“Alright, Let me walk you out.” Cindy walked with her to the front door, Cindy pulled her into a gentle hug, “Thank you for coming.”

“Course.” Lex smiled back before pulling away and waking to her car.

November 21, 2023

“Are you sure you don’t mind?” Cindy asked Lex as she walked through the door.

“Really it’s not a problem i was gonna spend the day with him anyways.” Lex reassured her with a smile.

“Thank you really.” Cindy had gotten an emergency at work she had to get to and Molly was in class taking an important test and Jim had to go into work as well. Cindy knew Rutger was supposed to be not alone for a little while and she trusted Lex, “He was sleeping when i checked on him last, and thank you again.” Cindy rushed out the door.

“It’s not a problem.” Lex smiled before heading down the hallway to Rutgers room in his parents house, the door was open and she could see Rutger kinda sleeping but not fully asleep.

Lex stepped in and set her backpack on his desk and unzipped it pulling out the gift she got Rutger. Lex walked over and gently sat on the edge of the bed as Rutger’s eyes were fluttering open.

“Ollie?” Rutger mumbled with a goofy smile.

“Hey pretty boy.” Lex smiled soft brushing his hair off his forehead, “How you feeling?”

“Good.” Rutger slowly nodded before nothing something in her hands, “What’s that?”

“Uh I uh thought you might like it.” Lex rushed out setting the snow white teddy bear next to Rutger.

“It’s cute.” Rutger picked it up feeling how soft it was before looking at Lex seeing how she was avoiding his eyes and felt his heart clench in fondness for this girl, “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Lex cleared her throat, “Your stuck with just me for the day, your mom had to go into work.”

“And you came over?” Rutger titled his head looking at Lex for an answer.

“I uh planned to come over anyways and i uh got your work so you wouldn’t be behind.” Lex simply explained fiddling with her finger not enjoying how nervous she felt.

“You do care for me.” Rutger teased with a smug smiled.

Lex took a deep breath and looked up towards him, “Of course i do.”

Rutger’s eyes widen and he tried to lean up towards her, “Woah relax!” Lex quickly put her hands out stopping him from moving and made him stay put.

Rutger ignored her words and looked at her, “You care for me?”

“Of course i do Rut.” Lex softly admitted leaning closer to Rutger.

Rutger slowly breathed out in disbelief hearing the words he’s been waiting for and gently brought his hand up to cup her cheek, he smiled as Lex leaned into his touch.

He gently pulled her chin down to him, “Can i? Please?” Rutger breathed out desperately looking up at her for permission, to do the thing he’s been dreaming up for years.

Lex nodded and leaned forward connecting her lips to his in a gentle kiss.

Lex gently pulled away leaning her forehead on Rutger’s forehead.

“Took you long enough.” Rutger softly chuckled teasing her as he pressed another kiss to her lips.

“Whatever.” Lex fondly rolled her eyes.

“Lay with me.” Rutger looked at her with his puppy eyes making her nod and slowly lay next to him and rest her head gently on his shoulder.

“Will you let me take you out of date?” Rutger softly questioned, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I could be persuaded.” Lex quipped back with a small smile.

“Oh i see how it is.” Rutger laughed feeling Lex let out a chuckle, “How about being my girlfriend?” Rutger nervously asked.

Lex’s eyes widen and she quickly sat up looking at Rutger, “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” Rutger softly nodded nervously looking at her.

“Are you sure?” Lex softly questioned.

“Alexandra Zegras i would very much like to he your boyfriend if you will have me?” Rutger gently grabbed her hand and looked at her as he spoke.

“Ok, Yeah, Yes!” Lex breathed out smiling leaning over to let Rutger kiss her again.

Rutger fondly cupped her face and smiled kissing her again.

They pulled apart resting their foreheads together and smiling at each other.

“Took you long enough.” Rutger softly teased his now girlfriend.

“I know.” Lex nodded softly pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “I’m sorry.” She nudged her nose to his.

“It’s okay, i’ll always wait for you.” Rutger softly cooed cupping her face in her hands, he knew she hadn’t been ready in the past and was more than willing to wait for her to figure out her feelings.

“Thank you.” Lex pulled back and laid back down next to Rutger laying on his shoulder and was playing with his fingers.

Rutger could feel himself slowly falling asleep and before he knew it was fast asleep. Lex wasn’t far behind and fell asleep.

Cindy came home a few hours laters and walked into the quiet house down the hall and peaked into his room seeing Rutger and Lex cuddled together both peacefully sleeping looking content in each others arms, Cindy smiled fondly and quietly walked over to the bed and pulled up the blankets over the two and quietly walked out and closed the door behind her.

83 notes · View notes

ofstoriesandstardust · 9 months ago

Text

scott street (j.h.s.)

a/n: this one is for those of us who didn't grow up with the childhood we deserved. may we all find some sort of peace in our adult lives.

summary: You open up to Jake about your childhood.

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

warnings: vaguely referenced childhood trauma, complicated parental relationships, swearing, alcohol mentions, unedited

word count: 1.7k

"do you feel ashamed/when you hear my name?"

“What’s the coolest place you’ve ever been?”

You blink, realizing Reuben was talking.

Bradley hums, swirling the last of his beer in his can. “Germany, I’d say.”

Jake looks over at the brunette in surprise. “When the fuck did you go to Germany? Why?”

Bradley laughs, shoulders shaking. “Our high school did an exchange program with a school out there, but the ROTC kids got to go along. Not sure why though.”

“I remember that trip. Everyone got fucked up.”

“Did you go on that trip?” Bradley asks, curiosity piquing in his voice.

You shake your head. “God no, I’d never have been able to afford it. No, I just remember all the Snapchat videos of you guys at the Rhine getting wasted.”

“Mom doesn’t know about that, so shush.” Bradley says, narrowing his eyes. You throw your hands up in mock surrender.

“My lips are sealed Bradshaw.”

“What about you? What’s the coolest place you’ve ever visited?”

You hum, shrugging. “Honestly, LA.”

Javy groans. “What? That’s so fucking lame.”

You huff out half of a nervous laugh, realizing you were starting to encroach on territory you often tried to avoid with this group. “Honestly, can’t say I’ve visited anywhere cooler.”

“Your family didn’t go on like… fun yearly vacations? Nowhere even just out of the state?” Natasha asks, with her eyebrow raised.

You blink.

“You think we could’ve afforded that shit?”

“I mean, this is a nice neighborhood and you grew up across the street from here-” Reuben starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“No, you all just assumed I grew up across the street from Bradley. I didn’t move into that house until high school and God knows where the money for that house came from.”

“We used to hear her and her Mom getting into screaming matches from across the street. Quality afternoon entertainment.” Bradley says, a smirk on his face.

You rise from your seat, Jake protesting as you do so. “Yeah, fuck you Bradshaw.”

He turns as you walk towards the sliding glass doors. “Hey, wait, I didn’t mean-”

“Just shut up.”

“Is everything okay?”

You sniff, rubbing your snotty nose on the sleeve of the maroon embroidered San Diego sweatshirt you’d bought off Etsy just a few months ago.

You’d been so excited for it.

“I think a piece of me died in that house, Jake.” You croak, turning to look at him. He sighs, crouching down to sit next to you on your balcony. You could see all the city lights of the town you had always called home, stretching in every direction.

“Not, not in that house across the street from Bradley’s, I- I’ve never liked that place.” You say with a shrug as he reaches over to wipe a tear away. “But that first house, the one I called home. I think a piece of me died there.” Your shoulders begin to tremble as you feel another sob come on. “And I want- I want to show you around, and show you all the places I grew up and the stories behind them, but I- I don’t know how without also acknowledging all the hurt.”

“Show me the hurt.” He whispers. “It’s okay. I’m right here, for the happy and the hurt and the in-between. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why is it ugly?” Jake jeers, leaning around you as he peers at the metal gate of the high school.

You let out a little laugh. “You know what, my stomach used to drop every time I arrived at this place. Every morning, I used to stall and talk to my Dad because I didn’t want to get out of the car and go in. I wanted to leave before I ever even got here. Graduating always seemed like the best thing that would ever happen to me. Four years I was miserable and yet- I don’t know, I kind of miss it. Maybe miss what it could’ve been.”

“You and Bradshaw weren’t buds?”

“Hell no, he was right when he said the neighborhood got free entertainment out of the screaming matches heard from my house.”

“What’s your favorite memory from here?”

You smile wistfully, eyes glancing over the campus.

“Leaving. Leaving and knowing I never had to come back to a place that made me feel like I was going to suffocate in a dead-end life. I know a lot of people hate high school but that- that was different almost. Those last two weeks of senior year- I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”

The two of you sit there for a while before you sigh, turning back to Jake.

“Well, on to the next.”

“It looks like a prison.”

You giggle at Jake’s bluntness of your middle school. “The San Diego Union-Tribune said the same.”

“Wait, okay, those murals are kind of cute.”

Jake’s talking about the different murals the elementary school had commissioned over the years, which really, were some amazing artistry that made the school feel incredibly welcoming.

You nod. “They have a lot of open houses and events for the community, I keep meaning to get involved or swing by, just see the place. See what’s changed.”��

Jake hums, squeezing your hand as he circles the block. “That would be fun, I’d love to see it too.”

“I spent so many years at this park.” You say softly as you settle down on the grass next to Jake. “My whole life, I’d come to this park. The late night therapy conversations with friends, the fights I’d have with them, the reprieve from my parents, the lunches and birthday parties, it all happened here.”

Jake licks the spoon of the frozen yogurt place from a few blocks over before responding.

“How come we’ve never been here on any dates then?”

You shrug, scooping around the Oreo bits in your yogurt.

The shop you used to go to all the time with your Dad had been sold by the nice woman to a bigger chain, the place far from what it had been when you were a kid.

“Because I’ve tried not to come anywhere near this place. This neighborhood- it’s not good memories for me Jake. I want to leave it all behind, leave it where it belongs. I’m not that person any more. I don’t want to be her ever again.”

The car rolls to a stop across the street, parking under the only tree on the block that ever dropped leaves when the seasons changed.

It’s silent in the car as you sigh, looking at the house through the smudged glass.

It’s painted blue now and the pomegranate tree that had sat out front is gone.

It wasn’t even really all that far from the new place across the street from Bradley’s, a five minute drive taking you right back.

Still, moving out of that place had felt like leaving so much life behind. Like a door had closed that you’d never be able to reopen ever again, no matter how much you pounded on the door and tugged at the doorknob.

“I guess they’re selling this place now.” You whisper. “My sister texted me the Zillow link.” You swallow thickly as your eyes begin to sting. “Fifteen years I lived there and I couldn’t recognize a single room.”

You shake your head, turning away from the window. “That place- it stopped feeling like home so long before we moved. But I just- I just think about the little girl who had all her best memories there who laughed and loved and cried and whose light died when her parents took that from her.”

Jake leans over the center console, brushing a few tears from your cheeks as you chance another look at the house.

“It’s so silly to say-” You hiccup. “But I feel- I feel like her ghost is trapped in there, waiting for someone to return and love her the way she should have been by her parents. I lost so much in that home to a dysfunctional family with parents who wouldn’t know the first thing about love.”

The tears are salty on your lips as you tilt your head down, wringing your hands together.

“But it wasn’t just- my family. It was the loss of friends and never feeling like enough. It was the first place where I realized I wasn’t what the world defined as pretty or cool enough to get asked out on dates or to dances. And I just-”

Your heaving sigh gives way to the tears.

“I just want to set her free. That little girl who used to walk around in princess heels that drove her parents nuts and read Harry Potter books under her covers until the sun came up- I wish there was a way to let her memory go without also feeling like I’m letting her down.”

You realize too late that the words might have been too much too early for Jake but he’s quick to read your mind, softly lifting your wrist to press a soft kiss to your pulse point.

“She knows, honey. She knows.” He whispers. “Believe me okay? That little girl inside of you would be so proud of the woman you’ve turned out to be. You’ve done so many things in your life that seven-year-old you – or hell, even thirteen-year-old you – never would have even thought possible.”

He leans farther, pushing back some of your hair from your face.

“I know that there’s no way to go back and undo from your childhood, that healing that little girl inside of you will take so much more time and care and love. You deserved to be loved in the way parents are supposed to love their kids, supportive and encouraging and kind and I know those things weren’t true about yours. There is no denying that you should’ve been given that love as a child.” He swallows, intertwining his fingers with yours. “But I can say that you have risen above all the loss and the pain and become an incredible, bright, kind, successful individual. That hurt and longing that I know must ache is valid. But don’t let it push you under, because there is so much more life and love to be experienced beyond what happened in that house. It’s just four walls and a roof, honey. It’s okay to let it go.”

#jake seresin #jake seresin fic #jake seresin x reader #top gun: maverick #second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

118 notes · View notes