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onewmin · 1 year ago

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the perfume on the shelf. pt. 10 | bangchan

Pairings: Bang Chan x Fem!reader, Kim Yugyeom x Fem!reader

Summary: Falling in love with your best friend was never a part of the plan. So you end it up. But does he want to put a stop to it, too?

Warnings: AU, Yugyeom is being the voice of reason, the reader and Chan are insufferable (mostly the reader), description of a poor relationship with the parents, mentions of a sexual assault, cursing, the appearance of an ex-girlfriend, an airport cliché, some typos. The narration jumping from the past to the present tense is intentional

Gaeul means ‘autumn’ (just in case :))

Author’s note: hey! I’ve been absent for quite a long time, and couldn’t give you anything better thank this, sorry </3. I wasn’t kidding when I said it was going to get worse, lol. This part is quite long, btw. I’m trying my best to finish this series, that’s why it’s taking me longer than usual to post. I’ll try my best to post a new part either once in two weeks or once a month. Hope you’re still interested in the series. Let me know what you think and thank you for reading <3

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

Part 9 | Part 11

You hated the countryside. Or the idea of staying there with your parents. You didn’t figure that out yet.

To begin with, you absolutely despised the long hours it took you to get to the place. When your parents abruptly decided to change their place of living, moving from their apartment to the semi-detached house in the village four hours away from Seoul (the house that was used solely for summer vacation previously), you were definitely not pleased. With your forever unfinished psychological separation from the family, you knew better than anybody else that you’d have no choice but to come and see them, at least, once a month at the weekend — especially when it happened in summer.

Moreover? Honestly, there were too many things to add to this. For starters, you hated you father’s guts. Despite having been raised as someone who was supposed to respect their elders without a question, you couldn’t but roll your eyes every time he opened his mouth. And when you’d vent to your mom, she… She would be defending her husband’s actions, always. Even when he was in the wrong.

Sitting at the dinner table with them, you silently chewed on your salad, another weird show about politics running as a background. Your parents would throw in the most obscure of their opinions, the ones that made you sick to your stomach — but you wouldn’t dare to say anything. ‘Cause you outgrew the phase of arguing with them, trying to prove them wrong, trying to get through their hatred and prejudices. You were too grown to try and change two almost senior citizens so that they wouldn’t hate everyone who differed from them in any capacity.

Your cat meowed, stretching her paws on the armchair beside you. Whenever you thought about a family, she would be the only creature who came to mind.

“Do you feel like you’ve separated?” You therapist asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Sometimes it feels like it. But”, you gulped, “sometimes I would find myself being too engrossed in the family drama”.

She hummed. “That’s what they want from you. To continue being involved. To continue being the only thing that unites them”.

“I’m pretty sure they’d be fine without me”. You huffed. “My mom loves her husband too much to even think about how miserable he makes her life to be”.

“Would you remind me, please, how long they were dating before getting married?”

“Two months”.

“How long had they been living together, just the two of them?”

You scratched your chin. “Ummm… Never, I guess. My grandma lives with them now.”

“Something always unites your parents, and it never seems to be the love they have for each other. It’s either you or your grandmother”. Your therapist took her glasses off and looked you in the eyes. “When one of the elements disappears, or both of them do, they’ll have nothing in common anymore”.

You shook your head back then, and you were shaking it now too. Your parents might have been the worst example of a healthy relationship, however, they both held onto the toxicity. You father did it for the sake of comfort, as you mother had always been the breadwinner of the family — the matriarch, if you will. She provided him with a home, paid for his higher education, paid all the bills while he was not, in fact, bringing home the bacon, quite the opposite, actually; and she never noticed his utterly shitty behavior. Or she chose to ignore his vile habits of breaking your heart, your will, your love for him as a father.

Your mother never cared about it. Ignorance is a blessing, after all.

“We’ll have guests tonight”, your mother said when you were helping her with the dishes. “Don’t lock yourself in your room, please”.

“Who’s going to come?”

A playful smile was shining on her lips. “It’s a surprise”.

You’re let out a deep sigh, not expecting anything good to come out of it. It was either your annoying aunt, who’d preach about you not being married when her daughter, who was your age, was divorced twice and heading towards her third marriage; or it was someone else from your relatives — maybe your father’s creepy elder brother, who used to touch you inappropriately when you were a kid. No, no way it was him — your mother hated his guts too. Too bad she didn’t hate her husband who never cut off his older brother for groping both his child and wife. Too bad.

As you were done with the dishes you left your mom to play with your cat, and went to the back door, to seclude yourself in the patio your parents never used until there were guests. All you wanted was some peace and quiet in this mad house.

You didn’t even have a minute to start another crochet project when your phone buzzed.

“Oh god, Yugyeom, another cat meme?” You mumbled as you opened the app. Fortunately, it wasn’t a meme.

“A little bird told me we’re coming to your family’s country house. Wasn’t my idea”.

You chuckled. “Right. They definitely want to play matchmakers”.

“Great”. He responded. A couple of seconds later another message popped up. “It’s exactly how I wanted to spend my weekend”.

You smiled. “Yeah, me too”.

A couple of weeks passed after Youngjae’s birthday, and since then you and Yugyeom were speaking regularly. Followed each other on the social media again, exchanged your numbers. Although you did regret adding him on Instagram, as he kept on constantly sending you animal videos. Not that it was annoying, it was just… Unusual. You were not used to male attention after Chan.

Oh no, not again. Shut up.

You didn’t allow yourself to drown in the memories of him. It got better, day by day, but it was still an open wound. Even though it wasn’t bleeding anymore. At one point you decided that all the bleeding turned into the infinite pool of tears you cried throughout the whole relationship. Nevertheless, the mere mentioning of him still brought you pain; you thought about talking it out with your therapist but it felt like even she was tired of all this Chan talk.

When you were together, the tiniest thought of him with someone else made your heart ache, as you laid on the floor of your bedroom, tears clouding your vision. The paparazzi taking pictures of him with the singers he worked with, his backup dancers, his acquaintances — all of that, as you scrolled through those photos, almost forced you to break through your rib cage with your fingers with so much ferocity, that you could rip your heart out. Just not to feel any of that pain anymore.

Because he never went out with you publicly. It was only in a group with friends, or you had to wait till the paps took all of the candid photos of him before you could walk out, or you were supposed to pretend to be a stranger, walking past him. You were not interesting to the paparazzi as much as Chan’s idol and actress friends were. You were bland, grey, a simple background noise. Who would ever even consider you dating Chan?

Yeah, right. That would be you in your delusional state of mind.

Time passed quickly and in mere moments the Kims were at the door. Yugyeom was beaming at your parents, bowing to them as you did the same to his. It wasn’t like you hadn’t seen each other for years — you’d greet his parents whenever you met them in the village, and your parents certainly saw Yugyeom in his rare visits. The four of them were still friends — or they appeared to be like that for the sake of the families’ images — only you and Yugyeom were estranged. As you sat down the table, you realized it was the first time in years when both of your families gathered. And it was the first time in years you and Yugyeom were sitting opposite, and not beside each other.

Holding hands under the table, fingers intertwined as your palms were sweating with every gentle touch of his. You had never experienced so much love after Yugyeom. Whatever love Chan had for you was never expressed — it was hidden, as if he were ashamed of those feelings all along. But wasn’t it the truth? Wasn’t it what he said to you?

You shook your head again, earning a concerned look from Yugyeom. You didn’t think he’d understand this crap, shit, no one would. Eunjoo was the first one to tell you the relationship you shared was unhealthy, but, despite you agreeing with her, you never had the strength to leave him. Except for that one time several months ago, that launched all of the vicious bullshit circle that had happened recently.

As all of the dinner went on as a blur, when you answered Yugyeom’s parents’ questions about your job and life almost mechanically, unlike Mr. Kim Yugyeom, who seemed actually delighted to share his news with your parents.

“I can never escape him, right?” The thought leaped through your head. “But do I really want to?”

Your parents conversation swiftly moved to the living room, for them to go on and watch yet another favourite film of theirs; you and Yugyeom were left to do the dishes alone. In silence. Not a word uttered while he was washing the dishes and you were wiping them up.

“D’you wanna go on a bike ride?” He suddenly uttered.

“Yeah”.

Having jumped on your old pink bike, you made your way to the Kim’s house, when Yugyeom rushed to get his one too. Several minutes later you rode through the empty country road; inhaling the smell of freshly-cut yellowish grass and cool autumn wind, you did your best to outrace the man in front of you. And every time you looked at him, slightly turning his head to you to say you were slow, you were reminded of a dark-haired boy whom you’d know since you were ten. He had that smile that felt like a warm summer evening filled with the honey smell of a linden tree. He was funny, his innocent curiosity and love for the world were the first things that made you fall for him long before you knew what love was.

Do you know it now? After all these years, do you know what love is? Is it that gut-wrenching feeling that arose inside whenever you thought of Chan? Is it crying almost every day because you knew he could never love you? Is it going through his ex’s accounts to find something within yourself to alter — only for him to never notice your efforts? Is this love?

Or is it riding your bikes through the night to your place? Is it this lingering feeling whenever he looked your way? Is it feeling comfort whenever he wrapped his arms around you?

Is Chan the love you’ve been craving? Or did you give up on Yugyeom too quick and lost your chance for love forever?

You pulled yourself from the thoughts as the two of you reached the destination — your place, that meadow where you always used to spend time during your relationship. Now the place was forgotten by the two of you, abandoned by the love that used to be in a full bloom.

Yugyeom plopped on the blanket and you carefully sat beside him, pulling your knees to your chest, hugging them and laying your chin down on your knees.

“There are no stars tonight”, he mumbled. A corner of your mouth lifted, but you didn’t respond. To be frank, you had no idea what to say.

Yugyeom sighed. “D’you think I’m boring?”

“What?” You brows knitted.

“Am I boring? Do I give off boring vibes?” He put his hands behind his head and stretched a little.

“Why are you askin’ me?”

“‘Cause you’re the only girl I talk to”, he began, “not romantically, I mean”.

Ouch. Ouch? Bitch, ouch? You’re slightly hurt you’re not romantically linked with your childhood sweetheart?

“So you need advice?”

“Sort of”. He nodded. “I went out with this girl from work a couple of times but she says I’m too boring”.

“Stop talking to her”.

“I like her too much to do it”.

You gave a tight-lipped smile in response, feeling your blood boil for some reason. Why a possibility of Yugyeom having a relationship makes you… dissatisfied? Why does it even bother you?

He, on the other hand, seemed to notice your slight change of demeanor. “You’re okay?”

Having nodded, you kept on staring at the sky. What were you supposed to say? It wasn’t a Minho situation where he’d ask you about Eunjoo and what she liked; it was different. It was Yugyeom, the golden boy who seemed to come down from Heaven, the sweet boy who’d wipe your tears every time your parents made you feel miserable, the perfect boy who slipped through your fingers. Were you really holding onto him after all those years? Was Chan actually right?

“I dunno what to say”, you uttered. “Maybe you should take her to the movies or something”.

“She’s a not a fan of mainstream cinema”, he responded right away.

“Coffee then”.

“She hates it”.

“A walk in the park?”

“She’s allergic to grass”.

You huffed and rolled your eyes. “Is she even real?”

Yugyeom chuckled. “She certainly is”.

“Then I don’t know what to tell you”. You changed your position so that your back would be flat against the blanket. Watching the sky, you continued. “I’m not the person to give you dating advice”.

“Why are you so angry suddenly?”

You sighed. “I’m not”.

Yugyeom hummed. “I just thought”, he resumed, “that we’re sharing our love-life problems with each other. Guess we’re not”.

Of course.

In the past couple of weeks only the dead didn’t hear you moaning about Chan and his sudden departure to Australia. Yugyeom fell a victim to your oversharing as well, and he actually tried to give you some solid advice — like to reconcile with Chris, for example. Reconciliation? Nope.

Yugyeom also suggested you be the first one to apologize, as, in his eyes, that would help both of you to throw the weight off your shoulders. A reasonable idea, right? It never stood a chance, though.

Because, despite you accusing Chan of selfishness and having too much pride to even consider saying a tiny ‘sorry’, you possessed absolutely the same qualities. Same brazen arrogance, same pride boiling your brain every time you wanted to run back to him and make the first move. You would never do that, never in a million years. No matter how much you loved him, Chan was supposed to be the first one to apologize.

“Are you trying to guilt-trip me or something?” You sat on the blanket. “I won’t tell you anything ever again then”.

You got up abruptly and clumsily stumbled on your feet, almost falling down. When Yugyeom tried to help you, you brushed his hands off. “Don’t help me if I bother you that much”.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with you?” You barked. “First you barge into my life which already was a fuckin’ mess, and now you tell me about your love-life? For what? For what exact reason, Yugyeom?”

“You need to know”. He answered calmly.

“Why? What for?”

“‘Cause you need to”. He assured. “You live in delusions, you build your life around them. You live off the idea of a prince who’d come and save you. You need to stop that and live in the reality for once”.

“I don’t-“ You shook your head.

“You do”, Yugyeom insisted. He took a deep breath. “You had the same idea when we were kids, and I was happy to be the one to come and save you. Because I loved you more than anything in this world”. You could feel your eyes getting heavy. “I still do, believe it or not. But I’m not willing to be your savior again. I don’t want to be Chan’s rebound either. I’m trying to move on from… Whatever you and I have. I want the same for you.”

You licked your lips and turned your head away. “That’s why you told me about your little girlfriend?” You muttered in a shaky voice.

You couldn’t see it but Yugyeom clenched his jaw, as he always used to when being extremely annoyed.

“I told you ‘cause you need to see it. You need to realize you have to move on too. ‘Cause Chan won’t magically come back and beg for your forgiveness and you’ll live happily ever after. That’s not how it works”. He drew in a breath again. “And I won’t either. I do love you, still, and I always will, and the fact that”, he gulped, “the fact that you’re still wearing this necklace gives me hope, it does, but… I can’t be both your boyfriend and therapist, like I used to. You have to work on yourself on your own. Neither I, nor Chan will fix it for you. You need to realize you have to take the first step. Not him or me. You”.

Maybe what you needed was brutal honesty. Perhaps Yugyeom chose the right tactic — to befriend you and then put your face in the mud. Because you needed that. Because, no matter how much therapy sessions you had, the main issue still wasn’t fixed. You were keen on waiting for someone to come and help you, when you should’ve been the one to help yourself. Yes, you have always been a people pleaser, but can’t people pleasers be selfish too? Can’t they have their little pride bloom inside their chests?

“Guess you’re right”.

“I always am”.

You let out a deep sigh and sat back on the blanket, your head resting on Yugyeom’s shoulder. “I’m sorry”.

“Don’t be”, he answered softly, “I get it”.

“I just…” A sudden choking feeling seemed to squeeze your throat. “I don’t know what to do”. Your last words came out as a whisper.

“You do”, he said, “I just gave you a manual”. You let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m being serious, Yugyeom”.

“Me too”. He turned his head to face yours, as you rested your head on your knees now. In the dark of the night his angelic features seemed to have a slight addition of devilishness to them. And then it hit you like a sudden snowball thrown at someone does. You don’t know him. You know the boy you grew up with, the guy you used to love. You have no idea who the man that’s sitting right in front of you is. He seems nice, has a way with words, and he does resemble somebody you would call the ‘love of your life’. He isn’t the same boy anymore. As well as you are not the same girl. As well as Chan is not the guy your brain thought him to be.

He’s imperfect, stupid. He has no clue of what love is, he’s never had a sweet affection shown to him because he never stayed to get it. It’s not the responsibility that he runs away from, it’s affection. It’s pure adoration that makes him fall out of love with every person that ever experienced those feelings towards him. You can’t change him. And you don’t need to.

The only thing you need to do is make the first step. Push your pride far up your ass, collect yourself, forget the cruel words he ever said to you. Perhaps, then you won’t have to hate him to fall out of love. Perhaps, the two of you will have a chance to start over. But it’s you who needs to make the first move, you, who has to save whatever’s left between the two of you. You, because Chan’s too scared to do it.

“Can you get me out of here?”

Yugyeom smiled. “Of course”.

Chan’s plane was about to take off in six hours. “Maybe I’ll convince him to stay”, you thought, while pressing your bike’s pedals as fast as you could. Yugyeom has always had a way with your parents so he’ll convince them he has to take you back to the city. Your cat will stay with them when you’re gone, and, while kissing her between her big ears, you promised to come back tomorrow afternoon.

“Where’s your car?” Yugyeom asked when the two of you settled in your seats.

“Parking lot”, you mumbled, “mom and dad insisted on picking me and Gaeul”.

Yugyeom chuckled. “They really like your cat”.

You responded with a smile. “Is there a story behind her name?”

“Do you wanna talk to me that bad?”

“I have to drive to the airport for four hours to help the girl that I love get back with her ex, do you really-“

“Jeez, chill!” You raised your hands. “What about that work crush of yours?”

“That’s the whole point”, he crooned, “I help you, you help me”.

“I thought you were doing this out of the kindness of your heart”.

“Oh no, quoting Mr. Martins now? Do you know how far up my ass he got when he came back to Columbia University?” Yugyeom whined. “Literature wasn’t even my major, I only took it because of you”.

“Stop, I get it”, you flipped your hair, “I’m irresistible”.

Yugyeom laughed and you followed his lead. That’s what felt like home, like a safe space. Someplace where you didn’t need to prove the worthiness of yourself. Someplace where you were loved just ‘cause you existed. The purest form of love it was, the feeling you had never felt after him.

“See”, he continued, “we can be friends”.

“We’re not friends”.

Yugyeom raised an eyebrow as a response to your sentence. “I don’t know you yet, and you don’t know me. We need to get to know each other”.

He smiled again and nodded, a sudden rosy colour creeping up his ears. “Guess you’re right”.

“I always am”.

“So then”, Yugyeom didn’t seem to stop talking at all, “tell me the story behind your cat’s name”.

“They’re not much to tell”, you affirmed him, “it’s as easy as it seems. I found her on the street on a cool, rainy evening. It happened in autumn, so that’s the whole idea to her name. Oh, and she was the dirtiest kitten I’ve ever seen”.

Yugyeom hummed. “I thought, as a writer, you had better imagination”.

“Oh my god”, you cursed, “shut up!”

The road to the airport went on without a moment of silence, as you and Yugyeom kept on talking about everything. He told you about his job in New York, his past relationships, new friends and a golden retriever he adopted with his ex-girlfriend.

“So she took the custody of the dog?” You couldn’t believe your ears.

“She was quite adamant about the dog staying with her”, Yugyeom took a turn, as the two of you were twenty minutes away from the airport. “I couldn’t do anything about it”.

“Sometimes I feel like everyone around me is too smart”, you mumbled. A line appeared between his brows as you continued. “Why say ‘adamant’ when you can just say… Something like, ‘She was a bitch’ or whatever?”

Yugyeom chortled at your words. “Don’t act like an idiot. The fact that you gave up writing doesn’t give you the right to play dumb”.

You hesitated to respond. On the one hand, you didn’t play dumb, you just didn’t enjoy overcomplicating your speech. On the other hand, though… Yugyeom could be right. You used not to care about using simple words in your every day conversation when your dream still sounded like a possible reality. To be fair, you hadn’t noticed such small details about yourself before Yugyeom pointed them out.

“Stop lecturing me”. You murmured.

“Don’t think I can”, he continued. “You can lecture me too, y’know”.

“Oh, just give me a reason”.

The last ten minutes were blessed by the long-awaited silence, while you scratched your neck and kept on biting your nails. The relatively fresh manicure was ripped off from some of your nails, making them look like a shit show. You could’ve sworn Yugyeom heard the hopeless thumping of your heart.

“You didn’t have to drive here”, you said quietly when he stopped at the airport’s parking lot. “You didn’t have to do this for me”.

“I think I had to”, he answered and turned his head to face you. “I want you to be happy, that’s all”.

You sighed. Your leg was shaking violently as you watched the entrance and checked the time. “Maybe I should wait inside”. Yugyeom nodded. Before you opened the car door, something prompted you to look at him again. “Thanks for driving me here. I got it now”.

Yugyeom shook his head. “I’m not leaving until this…whole thing is resolved. Don’t even start with me”, he stopped you before you could chime in with your piece of mind, “I’ll wait for you here. Don’t wanna go home anyways”.

“Thank you, Yugyeom”.

Five minutes later you were in the waiting lounge. You took the phone from your pocket — it was almost 2 A.M. — and texted Minho, while your fingers were shaking. “He won’t like me being here”, you thought as the message was sent, “I promised him and Eunjoo I wouldn’t do anything like that”.

Minho didn’t tell you about Chan much: you assured you didn’t need to know his whereabouts. However, you did know that Lee Know would come and say goodbye to his best friend before his departure. “No, he’ll kill me. I swore I wouldn’t, shit, why am I even here? What’s the point? What if Chan doesn’t want to see me? Shit, shit, shit”. You were pacing around the waiting room with the few people were waiting for their respective flights there. Everyone was quiet but you.

A flight to Melbourne was about to take off at 4 o’clock in the morning.

Lee Know wasn’t responding. You pressed the phone to you chest as you leg was shaking uncontrollably again. “He’ll be here, right? Or did he change his mind? What if decided to stay? God, I hope he did”.

As the check-in for the flight was announced, the previously quiet hall got filled with camera clicks and loud voices. Paparazzi. A group of girls almost swooped you off of your feet as they sprinted towards the source of noise. You noticed the posters and pictures, and your heartbeat became so loud you could hear it inside your head. Chan was here.

You could see his bodyguards, Han, who was telling the paparazzi off for invading Chan’s privacy, and… You caught the glimpse of him. His curly hair was fuzzy due to the probable lack of care for it, but his dimples were at a full display. And before you could break through the photographers and a few of his fangirls, you saw somebody else. Someone with a long blonde hair, mesmerizing hazel eyes — as he sang in some of his songs — a tight grey tracksuit and a hand, intertwined with his. Kang Micha. Chan’s ex-girlfriend.

They both exchanged a couple of words with each other before Chan confirmed their relationship to one of the paparazzi. Your poor heart found it too horrifying to handle as it fell to your feet and scattered to even smaller pieces. Now it was impossible to fix. Your worst fear, the one that had been following you since the moment you and Chan started your mistakenship, came true. This play you watched from afar was a legitimate proof that Micha was the only woman on his mind. You were right. You were right. She was the only woman he had ever loved, she was the only woman he thought about while making love to you. It was always her. Her, her and only her.

You fought back the tears with as much effort as you could. Now you didn’t want him to notice you; and as Chan moved to the check-in desk, you ran to the exit, just to cry it out, just to leave before he saw you. You didn’t need to feel even more humiliated than at the moment.

As you got outside, somebody suddenly grabbed your hand. And before you could even shake the stranger’s grip off, you heard, “What the hell are you doing here?”

One look at Minho’s displeased face gave it off — he wasn’t quite happy about it either. “I-I-“, you stuttered. “I don’t really know now. I thought I could… We could… But it doesn’t matter now, right?” You gave him a half-smile, and it took everything from you not to let it turn into a full-blown howling.

Minho shook his head and pulled you in for a quick hug. “I told you not to come”, he whispered when he let you out of his grip. “Wait for me here and I’ll drive you home-“

“No need to”, you stated, “I already have a driver. See you later, Minho”. Before he could utter another word, you moved to Yugyeom’s car; he was already outside, waiting at the passenger’s door. Good he didn’t leave.

A cool autumn morning turned into a freezing one in a spin of a moment. The hope you carefully kept in your heart disappeared, having packed her bags in mere seconds. There was no more hope left in you, no love, nothing. The only thing you wanted was to curl up beside your cat and drown yourself in the flood of tears. And Yugyeom seemed to understand your desire, as he started the car and drove from the parking lot without asking any questions.

Minho watched as the car left his sight, and having taken a deep breath, came back inside the building. Chan had just finished his flight registration and was ready to go to the departures.

“Where you’ve been?” He asked when Lee Know approached him. “We’re ready to go”.

Minho nodded and gave his best friend a tight hug; the first time they would be apart for the longest time finally approached them. Minho truly loved Chan, no matter how dumb he was sometimes. However, the love drama he got himself dragged into left him uneasy — so he couldn’t not fuck with Chan’s conscience (or whatever was left of it) one last time before he left.

“She was here”, he said quietly while Micha was busy talking on the phone. Chan’s eyes widened, and his whole face seemed to lit up at the mere mention of her name.

“Where’s she?” His eyes were scanning the airport in desperate attempts to land on her face.

“Was here”. Minho responded firmly. “She saw you and Micha and left”. Chan let out a deep breath. “Don’t regret… Don’t come to regret whatever this is, Chan. I’m not an expert in love, but”, Lee Know tapped his best friend’s shoulder, “but I think that it’ll come back to both of you if it’s meant to be”.

Chris sniffed and rubbed his slightly red eyes. “Don’t lecture me, I get it”.

“Don’t think you do”. Minho detected. “It’s good if you let each other go, even for a while. ‘Cause I’m honestly tired of all this drama, man”.

Chan plastered a smile of his face. “Say ‘hi’ to Eunjoo from me”.

“I’ll say it to both of them”.

Taglist:

@heylookwhoitis @amaranth-writing @itstorimf @tenshimara @whyyougottadothatbro

The story’s masterlist <3

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35 notes · View notes

kooktrash · 1 year ago

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I'm struggling to process his smoking, but not for reasons most people are complaining about. I lost my grandma at a young age to emphysema. The only memories I really have of her are her oxygen tanks all over her home. She couldn't even leave her house because she was oxygen dependent. My uncle has emphysema and it's hard seeing him go through really bad coughing spells. There have been times where I thought he was going to pass out from coughing so hard. My parents have been heavy smokers for 40+ years, so I'm worried about them too. My mom's lips have ugly brown stains on them from all the smoking. My uncle's fingernails are stained brown. All of their teeth are stained brown. It's really hard seeing the people you love look like that and die from that.

Aside from that, I had first hand experience what living with smokers is really like. It's not a glamorous lifestyle. I lived at home with my parents for about 25 years. There is nothing worse than watching the pretty color you picked for your walls in your bedroom turn brown within a year of painting. There is nothing worse than picking up a picture frame of you and your best friend and feeling how sticky it is from nicotine. It covers everything and turns it all brown and sticky. And washing it? Forget about it. Just throw it away. And there is nothing worse than at 13/14 years old going to a friend's birthday party and your friends asking why you smell like an ashtray. And there's nothing worse than your friends not wanting to come to your house because of how bad the smell of smoke. I can't tell you how alienated I felt as a teenager because all of my friends hated the smell of smoke. My parents were the only smoking parents out of my friend group.

All I have are bad memories relating to people smoking. It led to a lot of embarrassment for me. So for me to see JK smoking, all I picture is him at 50 years old looking like my parents and uncle with their stained lips, teeth and fingernails, or worse, being oxygen dependent and dying like my grandma. It's very hard for me to process that JK isn't going to turn out like that. I just keep seeing the negative side of it, and the images are horrifying to me.

I know that he is a grown adult that is well aware of the risks of smoking. It's his decision to ignore those risks. I'm not about to parent him. I don't even know him, so my opinion doesn't matter to him. I hope he's smoking casually, or socially with friends. I hope he's not smoking several packs a day like my family members do. I know how important singing is to him, and I want him to have a happy, healthy, successful career. I don't want to see his career cut short because of the decisions he made in his 20s. I wish he would not only think about today, but also think 10, 20, 30 years down the line. Your body does not stay young forever. The things you do when you're young affect you greatly as you age. Once you hit your 40s and 50s, you wind up regretting a lot of stuff you did in your 20s. Trust me, I know from experience. It's true.

None of what I've said will ever change the way I adore him. I think he is an amazing person, and a wonderful singer. He will always be my bias. I will never abandon him as a fan. I will always support him. But I don't have to support or like every decision he makes. We are all unique and we all have different opinions because we have experienced different things in life. For me, smoking has always been negative. So I come at his smoking from a negative point of view. Somehow I will have to accept it and move on and not let it bother me so much. But for now it's fresh in my mind and bothering me. I hope you can understand why I feel the way I feel.

i totally get it and this is just my opinion now but I’ve also always been surrounded by smokers all my life and I guess for ME I just don’t think of it as that big of a deal. Not to mention, most of us already knew that he vaped and like we knew Taehyung did too y’know and i think Yoongi but im not sure, I guess I just don’t see how it’s that big of a surprise to some [not saying you <3] to see him smoke and then attack him for it. he’s grown and he knows the dangers of smoking and like you don’t have to support his decisions but it’s the people villainizehim for a norm thing that drive me nuts

#‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ inbox ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙𖤐

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heart-strong · 2 years ago

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the list of men i have shouted "i love one man" to during the shows

1. my cat, not from a tv show, but i love this cat so much hes a pretty cool cat his name is kylo ren and has the facial structure of kylo ren and he really is the vibe

Sits around all day watching twitch streamers and anime with my sister all day and when I say all day i mean all day 10 am in the morning to 10 at night.

2. dr spencer reid

do i need to explain my whole blog was based on him for over a year. also he's just like me a small (i do still love him when he thickness in the later seasons) anxious bisexual nonbinary with a hyper fixation we decided to go to college for and no ability to do sports. Also neurodivergent and childhood trauma.

3. amajiki

this my hero acidemia boy just radiates the same energy I radiate. have you seen him in the entirety of season 5 episode 1 he is too precious for this world.

4. finn hudson

this man is just a giant dork, and glee was never the same I genuinely will rewatch his little expressions and one-liners during season 3 because it is so good. I mean go and watch season three of glee and watch Finn the whole time

I would like to say that kurt is my favorite male character but i am not sexually attracted to him.

but I will be a happy person if you just give me the hudson-hummel boys

5. leo roth

if you saw red band society you would understand but also he is sometimes a dick but i'm not anything if i'm not attracted to slightly toxic men

this man is so sweet and I just dream about how he would of grown if the show was picked up for a second season. if you havent watched red band society i recommend it.

6. stiles stalinski

ill point you to the god-awfulness that is season 6 of teen wolf dylan obrien and stiles made that show and i would like to cuddle

when this man is on the screen the eyes go to him and he is just so funny the show just got bland when he left and when he show up with lydia in those last few episodes it was perfection.

but also I would never take him away from lydia they are perfect for each other and I love them, can I have a threesome, please?

we also ignore the shit show that was the movie.

7. shoyo hinata

this little ginger fireball has my entire heart and I would like to lift him above my head for him to win even though it is definitely against the rules

8. Camoron Goodkin

yo stichers was this weird show that I didn't think anyone watched and then jake or logan paul showed up and I stopped watching but before that cameron was my everything. I have since finished it and feel the same feelings for cameron.

camoron goodkin has a heart condition just like me and it's actually kinda accurate and he had a scar like mine and the younger me was like “oh my god i can find love” because Cameron got a sexy blond and i wanted a sexy blond.

9. Bow

I love how he’s so smart and dumb at the same time. Also his shoe tread is little hearts I mean that’s everything. Go watch she ra all of the characters are adorable and I would take a fucking bullet for them.

10. nick nelson

I read the comics way before the show and then the show came out and I was a goner. he is everything and kit Connor deserves so much better.

11. the greys anatomy boys(and kai)

alex and mark are my everything. complete dicks, or you're supposed to hate them when they come in, and then you fall in love. even though mark comes in on season 2 his time felt so quick this time around I miss him. and alex, come on he's a peds surgeon who is amazing with kids and parents I can definitely understand why the single moms soon.

I'd like to also mention kai bartley but they are not a man but I still love them so much. and I'm counting it because they get to kiss amelia shepherd and I'd like to kiss amelia shepherd. but do not think that just because I'm mentioning them on this list it means I'm ignoring their identity because i am not. i'd just like another threesome or poly situation with them.

that's my last one for now. i might add later.

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temmiesips · 2 years ago

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DOGS DON’T WEAR PANTS

Chapter 2 - Encounter

series masterlist.

A/N: After reading the first chapter I realized there was a LOT of dog metaphors which made it kinda weird so I just wanted to say this story will NOT contain petplay nor A/O/B! T~T I’m sorry if I made it sound like it was about Toji acting like a literal dog. Also, part of this chapter was inspired by the Hunter Exam Arc from Hunter x Hunter! :)

It’s been 3 days since Toji woke up from his coma and you haven’t seen him since, mostly because you were busy trying to figure out where the fuck you would start with him, but also how and when you would talk to Megumi about his father. You knew the topic wasn’t something the boy cared too much about, after years of not knowing a thing about his father he just got used to it.

You weren’t informed of any suspicious behavior from Toji, he didn’t really show up around the campus like you asked him to over text. Right know you were thinking of what methods you would use, at first you thought of just making him stay still somewhere if you ever went out on a mission, but after a while you figured out he would get used to having you do everything for him. The plan now was to train him to be able to keep up with you, Gojo told you he was pretty strong, by his own words he was “like almost-killing-me strong”, but you wanted to know how much and if it was enough.

“Be at the school gym at 7AM.” you texted him, not bothering to wait for an answer before going to sleep, you had a feeling the man would manage to mess it up somehow.

—

It was 8AM and the man somehow messed it up. He entered the gym unbothered by his lateness and your burning gaze on him.

“Morning” He said.

“Are you always going to be late for everything?” You asked, hoping it would be a one time thing.

“Sorry, mom.” He answered and you chuckled at the irony. You weren’t ready to be a mom when Megumi came into your life, and you’re definitely not ready to be a grandma now. “It won’t happen again”.

You told him to stretch while you got yourself another water bottle before starting. “You’re a grown man who’s used to fighting and dealing with dangerous situations, so I don’t think we need to get through the basics” you started and the man looked at you with crossed arms, you knew he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“What makes you think you are good enough to teach me something?�� he provoked you, making it clear he thought he was levels above you, so you thought it would be a good idea to put him in his place first.

“Let’s make a deal then” the man raised his eyebrow at your words, “if you’re able to touch me once, you can get out of here and live your life as a completely free man”, now you managed to catch his attention. “You have until 11AM”

Three hours and all he had to do was touch you? He thought you were going crazy, he was older but not to the point where he couldn’t outrun most people your age. You informed him it could be a punch, a slap, or just touching his little finger on your hair, any form of touch was valid. The man was on cloud 9 thinking it was his time to get out of this stupid “contract” of yours.

When the clock pointed 8:15 you were standing about 10 meters from each other, you waiting for his first move and him making up a plan to get to you, sure, your challenge seemed insanely simple, but he didn’t just assume you were incredibly slow, to be a special grade sorcerer you would probably have some tricks. He sprinted towards you and when he leaned his hand forward, you weren’t there anymore, “You’re 1 second late” you mocked behind him, causing him to jump away to take his distance, sure you didn’t have to hit him, but you were so close it surprised him.

You spent the next 1 hour like that, Toji trying different ways to approach you and you disappearing every single time, no effort needed. “You’re so fucking slow, I was there 0.37 seconds ago”, that was it, he got fed up with your cockiness, it was time to change his plan. Instead of just touching you, he approached you slowly, and as you stand face to face, he went for a punch, which instead of getting away from him, you just dodged, the frequency of his attacks went up with time but nothing happened, he couldn’t hit you no matter how much he tried. “Fuck, she had her arms behind her back this whole time, that’s child’s play for her” he thought as his frustration grew louder and louder, you could hear his groans and his breath got more apparent by every minute.

He still had 30 minutes left, but he was so tired all he wanted to do was lay down on the floor, so he did, making you look at him curiously. “I’m not going over there to check on you, if you think fooling me into coming to you will work, you’re wrong” you stated.

“I give up” those rare words got out of the man’s mouth, “I don’t fucking know what’s up with you but damn that’s not even funny, heck, you’re not even sweating while I feel like I just lost 10 years of my life span” you chuckled.

“How long were you planning to live?”

“I don’t know, 80?” he replied to your question.

“Better start planning your funeral then, you only have a few years left” you said leaning against a pillar next to him, the man looked at you acting offended by your statement.

“Did you just called me old?” he said sounding like he was hurt hearing those words and you chuckled, making him smirk and look away, at least you weren’t completely boring for a sorcerer, you didn’t answer his question, instead you just grabbed another water bottle and walked towards him.

As he lifted up his torso from the ground and looked up, you were standing up close and looking down to him while holding his water bottle. God, he hated to say it but you looked so pretty, your body seemed to be sculptured by an artist, your muscles were very toned, of course you weren’t as big as him but he could see you worked out a lot by how you looked, and that was when he found out he might have a thing for buff women.

“What did you take before coming here?” he asked.

“Nothing, I just had some coffee, why?” he didn’t seem to believe your answer.

“I don’t know, the way you moved didn’t seem normal” Toji replied and you just shrugged, not sure what to answer.

“You can rest for today, if you want to train some more there are a few dummies here you can use” you informed while packing your stuff.

“Going home already?” you nodded at his question, “but it’s only 11” he hoped you considered staying some more, you were a little mean to him but at least he wouldn’t be totally alone.

“I have nothing to do here today, and I figure I tired you out for now” and you were right, he was a mess.

“What’s your name?” you looked at him confused, “you never told me your name” he explained.

“Ryo Ikari”

“Ryo…” Toji repeated, he liked how it rolled out of his mouth, “where are you going next, Ryo?”

“You may call me Ikari, and I’m going home” you got your bag on your shoulder and started heading out of the gym while he got up and sprinted a little to catch up on you.

“Yeah, so, Ryo” you rolled your eyes at his forced first name basis, “do I need to stay here forever?”

“Only after you prove me you can behave out of my sight” your answer didn’t please the man, so he decided to tease you.

“Oh, I can behave very well Ms. Ikari…” he said leaning towards your ears while you kept walking, hoping he wouldn’t see you smirking at his remark.

“I also need to talk to Megumi about you” the man’s mood for provoking disappeared after given the information.

“What do you mean? You know my son? Is he here right now?” he remembered you saying he studied at the school, but he had no idea at which extent you knew his kid.

“Yeah, I supervise all of the students here” you didn’t know how to give him an answer he would be satisfied by while not revealing you basically raised his son, sooner or later he would know, but now was not the time, “He doesn’t know about you, though”

Toji got tense as he realized he might find his son at any time while being here, it was inevitable that they would meet, but he wasn’t ready to face him, not yet.

You walked through the campus, unsure why he was still following you like a stray dog, “maybe he did get used to the idea of being a hound dog”, the thought made you chuckle quietly.

When approaching one of the many vending machines, you spotted two of your students. “Sensei!” the pink haired boy said cheerfully, not quite noticing the man behind you.

“Yuuji, Nobara.” you greeted them with a smile. “What are you doing here? It’s saturday.”

“Oh, Yuuji insisted we had to stay at school today to ‘hang out’ with…” Nobara replied while examining the man now by your side, she looked at Yuuji who seemed to be doing the same thing, “Megumi…”

“Fuck.” was the only thing you could think as your eyes got wide, you looked at an unbothered Toji, who didn’t seem to realize that his son’s classmates were looking at their friend’s carbon copy. “What are they going to say? Is Megumi really here? I thought he would be home by now. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Think of something” you got so lost trying to organize your thoughts you almost didn’t have time to react to what you heard next.

“Mom?”

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji angst #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader

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adorerdraco · 4 years ago

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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 1

Summary: Draco meets and accidentally falls in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP). Part 1 of a upcoming series.

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of blood, crying, panic attacks

Words: 6.4K words (I made this so longgg)

A/N: my first Draco writing !!! i am sorry ahead of time if there are any misspellings, typing with long acrylics is hard omg. ALSO PLEASE FEEL FREE TO SEND ME REQUESTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! also i do not own this gif.

It was almost satirical how Draco managed to fall in love with someone at what might be, is, the lowest point in his life. It was his sixth year at Hogwarts, the dark mark burned into his left forearm, the restless mending of the vanishing cabinet, the impossible task of killing his Headmaster, the Dark Lord looming over him and his family with promises of torture and death if he didn’t follow through with the orders he was given.

Draco was an empty shell of what he used to be. The playful and mean remarks that would leave his mouth to anyone that stood in his path were gone. The devious twinkle in his eye and the smug smirk that used to grace his face almost 24/7 was reduced to a permanent scowl and red-rimmed eyes. He looked as if he had aged a rough 10 years since the last year he was at school. Everyone noticed it.

Everyone noticed the skipped meals, the lack of sleep, the empty look in his eyes, the falling behind in class. But no one dared say a thing to him. It almost seems as though people were afraid of him now more than ever. The sneer on his face and the reckless and impulsive attitude he held now was like a repellent for anyone that tried to come near. He was completely alone, whether he liked it or not and he decided to keep it that way.

That all changed a few months into the year, however, when you were rushing to DADA, your long house colored scarf getting tangled underneath your feet causing you to trip and lurch forward, dropping all your books, your wand, and crashing into, you guessed it, Draco Malfoy himself. There was a loud cracking sound as you both tumbled onto the ground, a yelp slipping past Draco’s lips as he held his hand in pain.

"Oh, Merlin,” you gasped, Draco shooting you the dirtiest glare. “Draco, I’m so sorry.”

Before he could open his mouth to tell you off and incessantly insult you into oblivion, you reached forward and took his wounded hand in yours, the softness of your hands and tender touch throwing him off guard. He watched you as you examined the damage on one of his fingers.

“It’s just a sprain,” you finalized after inspecting it for a couple seconds. Draco recoiled his hand from yours as if he had touched a hot surface. He moved to get up and you huffed out a “wait, hold on,” as you scrambled around the ground for your wand. When you felt the wood underneath your fingertips, you clutched it and jumped to your feet, gently grabbing onto the sleeve of Draco’s robe who was already trying to retreat.

“Get away,” he snarled, snatching his arm out of your grasp.

“Let me help,” you pleaded softly, “it’ll be quick, I promise.”

Draco looked down at you with annoyance. He was about to leave again until he felt that same tender touch from just a few moments ago. The feeling stunning him again as he looked down at his hand that was now lying palm up in yours.

“Episkey,” you drawled the wand over his injured finger, the both of you watching the swollen and purple bruise beginning to form suddenly fade away.

Draco gave you one last scowl before he snatched his hand out of yours and turned around to leave the corridor, leaving you standing there dumbfounded as he quickly walked away, his cloak floating behind him like the professor, who’s class you now realized you were very late for.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

That night, Draco lied awake staring at his ceiling he had charmed to resemble a starry night sky. His mind wandered off to think about spells he could try to help fix the vanishing cabinet and different ways he could kill Dumbledore without actually having to face him. He thought of his parents, mostly his mom, and how much he wishes he could save her and himself from this life. He thought of this school and how much he missed being an unknowing child who just did his schoolwork, played quidditch and bully the Golden Trio. He missed the two-dimensional life he used to live. Even if he used to be a complete ignorant and snobby arse, he was a happy one at that. Only now he knows that life isn’t what mummy or daddy say it is, in fact, it is so much worse.

He found his mind wandering to his uneventful day of dragging himself through his classes and failed attempts on the cabinet in the room of requirement. He then all of a sudden remembered the klutzy y/h/c girl that tripped into him and sprained his finger. He remembered how soft her touch was and how gentle she was in fixing said finger. That feeling was hard to forget. He hasn’t felt such tenderness since he doesn’t know how long. He recalled his mother’s hug before he boarded the train to Hogwarts, but that was ages ago.

In his ever growing turmoil, there wasn’t an ounce of warmth in Draco’s life since he’s returned to school. The coldness he was feeling on the inside was just as apparent as it was in his surroundings. He catches himself wishing he could feel that touch again, something about you radiated warmth, and just as quick as that thought appeared, he pushed it away.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The next day, as Draco was leaving the room of requirement and into the empty corridor, he felt the familiar ache in his chest that began to flow through his body. He had made little to no progress today on the cabinet. He felt a panic attack on the horizon, his breathing becoming staggered and tears pricking his eyes. He hated it. He hated feeling so weak.

He began rushing towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, his tears blurring his vision and just like the day before, he crashed right into someone. Instinctively, he held the other person in place by their biceps so neither of them would fall. But that still didn’t stop how upon impact, the other person’s head had collided with his bottom lip. He squeezed his eyes in pain as he felt the skin break and blood quickly escaping it. When he pulled back, he focused on the figure in front of him and realized it was you. The same klutzy girl he bumped into yesterday.

“Oh no, not again,” you frown, placing your hand on the part of your head that met Draco’s lip.

“You ought to watch where you’re going, you twit,” he snarls, stepping away from you in anger.

“It was an accident,” you responded just as harshly. You take a deep breath and throw the attitude aside. He was bleeding for Merlin’s sake and you felt bad that it was because of you. “I’m sorry, please let me heal you again,” you offer, taking a step towards him, closing up the space he had made.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he backs up, eyeing you down.

“Draco, please, just let me heal your lip and i’ll be out of your way,” you ask again, your soft and guilt ridden e/c eyes peering up at him through your lashes. Draco’s heart flutters, his anger subsiding for a second and he nods.

You step towards him once more and unexpectedly place a warm hand on his face while the other brings your wand up to his lip where it hovers. It was a non-verbal spell you used this time and he felt the pulsating pain in his lip subside to nothing.

Even though he was healed, you both stayed in that position, your hand still on his cheek and his eyes gazing into yours. He didn’t realize it at that moment, but the pain in chest had also subsided, just a little. The tears had gone. His breathing was drastically slower.

“What’s your name?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. You gave him a small smile, your hand falling from his face and he frowns when he feels the cold on his skin from the loss of contact.

“It’s Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N” you answer. “We have potions together this year, actually.”

Draco thought back to that class, now that Slughorn was teaching it he hardly paid attention, especially since he felt he was skilled in it anyways so he would let himself slip into his thoughts and let the whole period pass by in a haze. He feels as though he might have heard your name here and there, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Hm, funny, I’ve never noticed you,” he says, not intending it to sound rude but it did. He watches your face fall and he feels a slight guilt poke at him.

“Well, like I said, I’ll be out of your way now,” you mumble to him, brushing past him softly as you continued your path out of the corridor and out of his sight.

He didn’t know why, but he felt a little sad to see you go. He shook his head, shaking the thought from his mind and instead of the bathroom, he decided to go to his room, no longer feeling like he did before your little encounter.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

As days went on, Draco ended up paying more attention in Slughorn’s class. Not to the chubby old professor, but to you, who he shared subtle glances with throughout classes and half-hearted smiles.

You wanted nothing more than to continue talking to him. To be in his presence. He was like a magnet to you, while everyone else thought the opposite of him. Even Pansy, who usually was up his ass, distanced herself from the ghost of the boy she once obsessed over. You couldn’t lie, the small crush you harbored on Draco had only grown more and more each day. It started about three years ago, during your third year when you had seen him in the hospital wing after his run-in with Buckbeak.

You remember the sheer shock you felt when you had seen him for the first time that year. The slicked back hair was gone, he had grown several inches taller, maybe even a foot taller now that you thought about it. His voice had deepened into that haughty tone you somehow couldn’t get enough of. But just like you, many other girls noticed these changes too and began pursuing him. Something you’d never had the guts to do.

Until now.

The feelings you had been suppressing for the past 3 years had come back in overflow the second you bumped into him the other day. Even worse this time since you’ve actually had a conversation with him now and the fact that he won’t stop looking at you.

Slughorn pulled you out of your thoughts when he announced to everyone to partner up to brew the potion he had been lecturing us on all week. Draught of Peace.

“This is your chance,” your friend besides you sings to you as you looked longingly in Draco’s direction who hasn’t moved from his spot.

“No, he usually works by himself, I don’t want to bother him anymore than I have,” you sigh, slumping down in your seat.

“Y/N, you’ve been in love with him since third year,” she huffs, “besides, maybe he only works alone because no one can stand being near him.”

“Shhh, someone might hear you,” you hiss, slumping even lower into your seat. “I am not in love with him, it’s just a stupid crush,” you whisper angrily to her while she only rolls her eyes.

“Okay, well, have fun working alone,” she smirks, getting up from her seat and scurrying across the room to join another classmate. You gape at her in distress, she returns the same gesture, mocking you. She then points over to Draco and smiles, giving you an encouraging thumbs up.

You rest your head in your hand for a second, feeling the hot blush that had made its way onto your face and focused your gaze onto the table in front of you. You mentally hexed your friend, who thought it’d be a good idea if she were ditch you so you would be forced to look for another partner. Jokes on her, you’re not getting up from this seat.

‘I can’t go up to him,” you thought, ‘he probably thinks I’m some annoying creep who won’t leave him alone. I’ll just work by myself.”

Draco looks over at you, noticing the empty space beside you and the frown on your face as you pushed your Potions book to the side and sat up to get your cauldron ready. You were alone, and so was he. He fought himself on whether or not he should join you. It was a bold move, especially for him. He was used to working alone, but the longer he looked at you, the more he found himself missing the sound of your honey sweet voice and soft eyes. Before he had any more time to argue with himself about it, he gathered up all his things and walked over to the empty spot next to you.

“Do you want help?” Draco asked awkwardly, immediately regretting his decision to move. Your eyes shot up from the potion book, not expecting to see the blond next to you with a faint blush on his cheeks.

“Um, yes, actually, that’d be nice,” you mutter out to him, moving some stuff around on the table so that he would have space for his. You could hardly contain the deep red blush that was already on your face from intensifying at his presence. You swallowed thickly as the realization set in that your longtime crush was right beside you and even offering a helping hand. Which in Draco’s case was extremely rare, almost unheard of. Matter of fact, this is something the Slytherin Prince has never done.

He sets his bag down and his supplies and takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves so that he could get started on crushing the porcupine quills into the moonstone powder. The amount of times he has made this potion by now for himself was sad, but good in this case since he would be able to impress you with his skill.

He worked diligently and quietly and you watched as his long slender fingers worked everything with attention and precision. You were looking up at him every now and then which you now realized was a terrible idea considering you were in the middle of cutting ginger root and you weren’t exactly coordinated to begin with. You felt the sharp blade slide across your finger and a small gasp left your mouth when the pain instantly began once the first drop of blood fell.

Draco looked at you in confusion, his eyes widening slightly when he saw the blood dripping from your hand and your face contorted in pain. You ignored the looks Draco was giving you, afraid that he might be looking at you with contempt for being sloppy.

“Y/L/N, perhaps you should go to Madam Pomfrey,” Draco suggests, now seeing that the cut was very deep as you inspected it. In fact, it was so deep he swore he could’ve seen bone.

“No, it’s fine, I can heal it,” you ignored the sharp pain and placed your hand on the table and pointed your wand at the cut with your uninjured hand. You focused on the cut and closed your eyes, letting your wand do its magic with your unspoken spell. When you opened your eyes, the cut was gone, just a small scar in its place and drying blood around it. “You see,” you smile, turning towards Draco and waving your finger, “brand new.”

“You don’t want dittany for the scarring?” Draco asked with an eyebrow raised.

“No, I don’t mind them and this one is small anyways. They’re like memories to me. Some come from good experiences, some bad. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a little clumsy,” you explain, a small smile on your lips.

“Trust me, I’ve noticed,” he sighs, “so you’ve managed to become your own healer because of that?”

“Exactly that,” you hummed. “That’s actually what I’m studying to be. I plan on being at St. Mungo’s once we graduate. I’ve been studying for it my whole life.”

Draco was silent for a moment. He watched as you carefully threw ingredients into the cauldron and stirred them with caution. He noticed that despite your clumsiness, you handled everything you touched with a care and gentleness. It was a calming sight to him for some reason and he faintly smiled.

“I think you’d be a great healer,” he complimented quietly. You looked at him with one of the brightest smiles he’s ever seen and his heart swells at the thought of it being because of him. He feels a smile mirroring yours that tries to break through, but he fights it.

“You know, you’re a lot nicer than you let on,” you say quietly, waiting for his reaction from the corner of his eye. Draco wants to give you a snarky remark, just to uphold his cold reputation he’s given himself since his first day back at Hogwarts, but he doesn’t.

Instead of saying anything, he just shrugged and gave you a small smile, turning his attention back to the task at hand. You do the same, choosing to enjoy the comfortable silence that had settled.

When Slughorn came by to check when you finished, he eyed you and Draco and smiled.

"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy, I’m glad you’ve finally decided to partner up with someone,” he gleamed. “Miss Y/L/N here is an excellent potions student such as yourself.”

“Yes, she is,” Draco responded, keeping his eyes trained on the professor. He didn’t want to look at you, feeling embarrassed that he has now complimented you twice in the last 20 minutes. You smiled to yourself, something you’ve been doing a lot of since the slytherin boy sat next to you.

“Well, I suppose you’ll be pleased to know the two of you have brewed an outstanding potion,” Slughorn grins, “both of you will receive perfect marks on this. You can be excused from today’s class now.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you begin gathering your things and turn towards Draco. “I’ll see you next class? Or maybe somewhere around the castle when I accidentally bump into you.”

Draco chuckles and shakes his head, “perhaps. I’ll see you soon, Y/L/N.”

With that, he strides out of the class, you staring at the back of his platinum blond head with a stupid smile on your face.

“You’re welcome,” your friend suddenly appeared next to you, playfully slapping your arm. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve seen Draco look so... calm.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Weeks had gone by, and several Potions classes. The seat beside you now belonged to Draco and the two of you had in a sense, become friends. Or acquaintances. You couldn’t quite say.

He was still brooding and mostly kept to himself, but he would converse with you here and there about things, almost always school. The two of you continuously getting outstanding marks on everything you produced much to Slughorn’s delight.

Sometimes he would come to class looking disheveled or angry and those were the days where no matter how much you tried to talk to him to at least maybe get his mind off things, he would ignore you. Wouldn’t even look at you. You couldn’t deny how it had hurt your feelings, but you would brush off the hurt and remind yourself that it wasn’t personal. He was obviously going through something, you didn’t know what, but you had to respect that sometimes he just didn’t want to talk. That was hard. Especially because you just wanted to hear his voice or see him give you that rare smile when you would say something he found amusing or you would accidentally drop something off the table with your elbows or knocked over with your hands.

You were rounding a corridor when you saw the flash of blond zoom past you. He didn’t see you, but you saw the pointed look in his eyes and the tears that were pooling in the stormy gray eyes that you adored. You mentally fought yourself on whether or not you should follow him, he looked so upset and all you wanted to do was give him a peace of mind. So you followed him, all through two corridors until he disappeared into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

Your heart broke at the sobs that filled the bathroom. They were full of pain and despair. The sound of his rapid breathing mixed in with his cries was more than enough to let you know that he was having a panic attack. You pushed open the door slightly to see him hunched over a sink, his robe discarded on the ground along with his vest and tie leaving him in only a white long sleeved dress shirt.

You wanted to run in and help, but stayed back, realizing that this was something that was extremely personal. You knew he would be livid if you or anyone saw him like this, so broken and emotional. You were about to leave, all of a sudden feeling very ashamed for even following him in here. You watched as he looked up into the mirror, an anger flashing in his eyes as he stared at the reflection looking back at him. Not yours, but his. All he could see was a monster staring back at him. A failure. A weak man. He was disgusted and angry with what he saw and before he knew what he was doing, he had pulled his fist back and you watched it collide with the middle of the mirror where he had been. The glass shattered upon impact, the shards now flying in all different directions and embedding into his knuckles. He fell to the ground on his knees, in pain and clutching his fist as his cries only got louder.

That was when you threw open the door, rushing in to help him, not caring that you were going to have to put up a fight in order to even get near him. Draco’s eyes shot up to meet yours, and just like you thought, he was beyond pissed to see you.

Draco has never felt such humiliation in his life. The beautiful and kind y/h girl he had acquainted himself with, was now looking at him with pity. He grabbed his wand from his pocket, pointing it at you with such quickness that you faltered in your steps.

“Get. Out!” He yelled, his wand shaking violently in his uninjured hand. He would never hex you, but he figured you would fall for his bluff and leave. But you didn’t. You only sat yourself down a few feet away from him and felt your own tears begin to fall. “Y/L/N, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t leave, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” you challenged. “I just want to help.”

“I don’t need your help,” he sneered, his wand still pointed at you.

“You’re bleeding, a lot, Draco,” you point to his bloodied hand that curled to his chest. “You know I can save you a trip to the hospital wing and Madam Pomfrey’s interrogation.”

After a few moments of silence and a wand still pointed at you, you slowly scoot towards him. Your hand encloses around the one holding his wand and you lower it for him while he watches you. He was still crying and breathing heavily. His panic attack somehow getting worse now and no longer having the energy to fight you. You finally reach him, now knee to knee with him and you place a hand on his shoulder.

“Draco, just breath with me,” you say calmly. “In,” you took a long exaggerated inhale, and after a few seconds, “out,” and let out an equally exaggerated exhale. You did that with him for a while, his pained gray eyes focused on yours the whole time, never breaking eye contact. Once he was calmed down enough and was just left with the post crying hiccoughs, you took his injured hand in yours. There was shards and particles of glass stuck in his reddened and bloody skin.

You reached into your robe pocket and pulled out a set of tweezers you kept with you. You often found yourself getting splinters or tiny rocks stuck in your skin when your hands hit the pavement when you’d fall you try and catch yourself.

“This might hurt,” you warn, starting to remove one of the biggest pieces. He sharply inhales as you try your best to do take it out carefully.

It was quiet the rest of the process, just sniffles and gasps from Draco when you had removed a piece that especially hurt. When you were done, you waved your wand over the gashes and watched as they faded into faint pink scars. You got up, pulling him with you and took him to the sink where you rinsed off the blood from both your hands and his.

He couldn’t say anything. He didn’t know what. He just stared at you, dumbfounded and confused. You turned your body to face his and he did the same, eyeing you carefully and still very cautious to any move you made.

“I can leave now, if you’d like me to,” you offer quietly. He stayed silent, wondering if he should just send you off. But he didn’t want to. You had already seen him at his worst, and he was terribly alone, so he just shook his head ‘no.’ You looked up at him and decided to risk it all. “Can I give you a hug?”

Draco was stunned at the question, his heart pounding against his chest. “I suppose,” he managed to let out in a strained voice.

You slowly stepped closer to him and slid your arms up his biceps until your hands met behind his neck. You stood on your tippy toes and pulled him into you, his chin now resting on your shoulder as your hand smoothed the back of his head. You felt him stiff under your touch and as he got comfortable in your embrace, his arms raised from his sides and snaked around your waist, pushing you flush against him. You stayed like that for what felt like forever, and he held you tightly, not wanting to let go.

This was the first time in a long time that he had felt any type of relief. It had been such a constant uphill battle for him, day after day. He took a deep inhale accidentally, but the smell of your perfume and shampoo filling his nose and his mind made him feel at ease. The warmth of your body from underneath his fingertips brought him peace and succor.

“Thank you,” he whispered into your hair so quietly that if you weren’t so focused on him, you would’ve missed it.

“Anytime.”

That was the day Draco Malfoy became your friend.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Potions class was no longer the only place you would see Draco. Now that the two of you were comfortable with one another and he trusted you more than anyone else, he found himself hanging out with you every day during his free time when he would be done messing with the cabinet.

It would be taking walks around the castle. Sneaking out at night and meeting behind statues to talk. Sitting together at a bench in the courtyard. Skipping stones along the Black Lake. It’s been months of this. Months of friendship he so desperately needed. You had helped him through several more panic attacks and meltdowns, each time coming closer together. He never told you about what caused them. The worst ones were when he found he had almost killed Katie Bell and Ron Weasley, and as much as you begged him to tell you, he kept his mouth shut.

He had spent so much time with you that it was affecting him. But for the better. He found himself eating again at the Slytherin table and his friends were more than excited to have him back. He still wasn’t too buddy-buddy with everyone as he once was, but he joined conversations and shared a couple jokes. He was even sleeping a little more. He was still beyond stressed, but it wasn’t as gut-wrenching. He enjoyed Potions again and even started paying a little more attention in his other classes. His new found energy even helped him greatly progress in mending the vanishing cabinet, finally making a breakthrough in fixing it.

He would lie awake at night sometimes and thank Merlin you crashed into his life, literally. You were like an angel to him, healing his heart with every word and smile and touch you sent his way. It was easy with you. He tried his best to keep his emotions at bay, reminding himself that when he would have to follow through with his task, he would lose you and that thought pained him to no end. But he was selfish, and he adored you with every fiber of his being so he couldn’t leave you alone. And especially not when he needed you most.

Today, you lied in the grass, shoulder to shoulder and staring up at the sky and watching the clouds. You were a little ways from the castle, away from all your other classmates and teachers and it was nice. Finally being able to enjoy time with the Slytherin Prince without people gawking at the two of you.

“My mother used to do this with me when I was a small,” Draco trailed off, his eyes following a particular funny shaped cloud. “She would take me out to the garden behind the Manor, usually when father was doing some work at the ministry. But we would sit against this tall oak tree and I’d be on her lap and she’d have her arms wrapped around me and she would point out the funniest shaped clouds and try to pinpoint what they resemble. Sometimes she’d even joke around and say the weirdest shaped cloud looked like father.”

You giggled at that last part, your heart swelling at the story. He rarely talked about his family, but when he did, it would always be of his mother and a happy memory he had with her, never his father.

“Draco, can I ask you something?” you turn onto your side, your elbow holding you up as you gazed down at him.

“What do you wanna know, darling?” you blushed at the nickname but brushed it aside, knowing he only meant it in a friendly way.

“Forgive me if it’s rude, you don’t have to answer,” you begin, “but do you miss your father? I know it’s none of my business and I’m so sorry the Daily Prophet put your family business on blast like that. I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

Draco frowned and followed you in turning onto his side and propping himself up with his elbow to face you. You remembered the image of Draco and his mother on the newspaper, bright lights flashing across their faces as all the press tried to get picture of them after the sentencing of Lucius Malfoy to Azkaban. You remembered seeing Draco look so sad, yet strong beside his mother as he looked from her and then into the camera with disdain.

“Sometimes, I do,” he answers, eyebrows furrowed as he thought of his father. “My whole life, he’s expected nothing short of perfection from me. There were no room for mistakes, and if I made any, I would be punished for them. I remember coming to Hogwarts was like an escape, a place where I could finally sort of relax and be a child. I don’t miss his scolding or his coldness. But I miss having a father, I miss going home on that first day of summer and seeing both my parents even if he was going to reprimand me for something later on in the day. He’s been with me my whole life, and now he’s gone, stuck in a cell in Azkaban. He’s never going to be the same. Home is never going to be the same.”

You felt tears prick your eyes as you listened to the boy beside you, a distant look in his eyes as he turned back over on his back to look at the sky in the middle of his explanation. You sat up and he did the same, looking at you with a frown when he noticed you were about to cry. You took your hand in his and held it tightly.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” you mumble. “You don’t deserve any of the bad things you’ve been through.”

“I do,” he shrugs. “I’ve been a real git since I’ve been at Hogwarts, you know.”

“You’re different now,” you say. “Sure, you still haven’t lost a little bit of the Malfoy snobbishness and you’re still a bit of a git, but you’re kinder and more gentle. You’re a lot more empathetic and perceptive. I mean, I’ve never spoken to you prior to this year, but your reputation follows and the Draco in front of me doesn’t seem anything like the Draco you were.”

“How you’ve managed to insult me while complimenting me is something I’ve never seen anyone be able to do successfully is astonishing,” he laughs, a smile growing on his face as you laughed with him.

“I’m serious, Dray,” you giggle, “I think you’re a good person.”

“I’m not good,” he thinks to himself. The compliment leaving your lips made him feel foul. He didn’t deserve to have such a kind soul complimenting him to be something he’d never amount to. He frowned and harshly stood up, and you quickly followed. Suddenly afraid that you might have overstepped your boundaries.

“Where are you going?” You ask, fear trembling in your voice. He begins to hurriedly walk off and you chase after him, stopping in front of him so you could place your hands on his chest to stop him.

“Y/N, let me go,” he pleads. “I’m not who you think I am.”

“I think I’ve been around you long enough to know who you are.”

“Not long enough.”

You stare up at him, but he refuses to look at you. His body feels rigid under your touch and it pains you to see him beginning to shut down again.

“I know something has been bothering you this year, and I know it’s not just because of what happened with your father,” you start. “I don’t know what is hurting you so deeply enough to make you hate yourself, but I’m here to tell you that whatever that thing is, it doesn’t define you.”

Draco swallows thickly, the tears already falling down his cheeks. “It does, it does.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you cry with him. “Even if you don’t see your goodness, I do.”

Both you and Draco are crying, the tree you were now standing under was swaying violently in the wind, as if it was picking up on your guys’ emotions. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I’m not good,” he whispers to you, “and once you see that, you’re going to hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Draco Malfoy,” you promise, a complete sincerity in your voice that it makes his heart jump.

Draco lifts his head up and sniffles, he watched you do the same, peering up at him through your wet lashes. He brought his thumb up to smooth the crease in between your eyebrows, letting it fall down to your cheeks where he wiped away the stray tears that had stilled. His hand then landed on your mouth that was pulled down in a grimace that matched his own. His thumb grazed over your lips, the softness of them nearly driving him mad. He wanted nothing more than to feel them against his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to kiss you. He didn’t want to drag you into the darkness of his life more than he already has.

“Kiss me,” you said to him, so softly but it rang loud in his ears. You had seen the way he looked at you and how he seemed so focused on your lips. You knew what he was thinking because it was exactly what you were thinking. You wanted this just as badly as he did. “Kiss me.”

Every argument he had in his head vanished and suddenly he closed the small space between the two of you and gently placed his lips onto yours. It was a fluid movement, like two puzzle pieces fitting together.

Your hands found their way in his hair, holding him closer to you and he did the same by gripping onto your hips. His lips were soft against yours, filled with fervor and desire. He was gentle with you, but you could still feel the deepness of his kiss and how it intensified with each second. He had put all his emotions into it, his care, his appreciation, his want, his sadness, his grief, his love.

When he pulled away and the two of you stood there staring at each other with love stricken eyes, he realized he had made a grave mistake.

He realized he was in love with you. He realized that he would never be able to let you go, and you would never let him go. And he knew that with the direction his life was going in, one way or another, you would get hurt and he would lose you, maybe even to death itself.

So in that moment he knew. As much as he loved you and wanted more than anything to be with you, he couldn’t put you in that position where you would be staring evil and death in the face. He wouldn’t tarnish your beautiful soul like that.

“I have to go,” he breathed out. “Please, leave me alone. For good.”

And with that he turned away, leaving you standing under the tree with tears falling down your face, a sob escaping your throat and the sound of your knees hitting the grass below you. He held back his own cries and walked faster away from you, knowing you had finally done damage to yourself that you couldn’t heal, and it was all his fault.

PART 2

4K notes · View notes

moonbeamsung · 4 years ago

Text

You’re Just a Boy in a Blueberry Field

No fruit is sweeter than a summer love.

member: haechan

au: blueberry farmer!haechan x gn!reader

word count: 5.0k

genre: fluff, very light angst

warnings: mentions of food

author’s note: It’s here! I actually wrote most of this last summer, but only recently did I find the time to edit and get it ready to be posted. I added some parts and changed a few things, and now I like it quite a lot, so I hope you do as well! Thank you @astroboy-lele for beta-reading :) As always I would love to hear any feedback on this, and I hope that you enjoy the fic!

taglist: @astroboy-lele @kyuwoyo @rvse-hvvck @nakamotocore @kisshim @leejunini @chicksung @mrkcore @radiorenjun @moon-jun @jisungiest @stayctday @byutafy @jujubean23 @treasurehobi @bluejaem @lyshoonn @vera-liscious @allegxdly @cupfullofjeno @thats-a-jen-no-no @yo-ddream

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @culture-cafe @dreamlab-nct @k-dinernet

Thank you lovely Ana @rvse-hvvck for this additional header!

Donghyuck knows everything there is to know about those blueberries.

Without even pausing for the briefest of moments to think, to instinctively recall the information instilled in him throughout his childhood spent on the farm, he can answer any question that’s thrown at him. He can point out just the right color of berry to pick so that they’ll be ripe when you eat them later. Likewise, he can also tell you which ones are best to eat now, as you pick them, pretending not to notice when you pop one or two into your mouth and grinning when your eyes light up from the sweetness.

A day comes where he, filled with mischief as usual, places a not-so-ripe blueberry into your hand, and you, being so wrapped up in the peacefulness of the morning that surrounds you, fail to notice its red color and don’t think twice about lifting it to your lips, biting into it with your teeth. When the tart taste meets your tongue, your face contorts into an expression that elicits a raucous fit of laughter from him. You’re the first one in the fields that day. When the sun had risen on the horizon, the fleeting touch of color in the sky that dawn left behind still lingering above, he had been there, sitting on the front porch as always to greet customers.

Donghyuck knows every bug that loves to rest on the branches of the blueberry bushes. After spending so much time next to you as you scan them for the pops of vivid blues and purples that are hidden behind jade green leaves, he begins to learn that you are not fond of any bug, no matter how harmless. It’s cute, he thinks, how you inspect every berry that you drop into your basket, fearing that some small creature is lurking on it. If you do find something, he hears a small noise of both surprise and disgust before you fling the perfectly good berry away from you. It also hurts a little, knowing that it’s one less for you to take home.

When more people arrive at the farm after you, he’s forced to leave your side and get them started on their own search for the delicious fruit that’s nestled among the branches of nearly every bush. And if they ask where the best ones are, he specifically points them in the direction of the fields where you aren’t. It isn’t a lie, really, because they’ve had a good harvest everywhere this year.

...Okay, so maybe it’s a little selfish on his part, but who can blame him for wanting you to have some of the most plentiful bushes all to yourself?

Wednesdays are his favorite because it’s always the least crowded of all the mornings they’re open for business, and he can spend more time following you as you make your way down the rows, admiring the focus on your face and the way that you sometimes pause mid-reach, closing your eyes and standing still as the sun peeks through the clouds and casts its warm glow down onto the farm. A gentle sigh tumbles from your lips, darkened by the violet nectar that remains from the countless blueberries that have crossed their usually pink-tinted threshold. You resume your search after a few seconds, catching his eye and returning a smile he didn’t even know was there.

He makes the berries taste a little sweeter when he’s next to you. The purple juice that stains your fingers is a little darker. The sun feels brighter and warmer than ever, its heat shining down onto your skin.

One particular morning, after you finish picking all the blueberries you can carry, you decide to accompany Donghyuck on the porch, sitting beside each other in matching rocking chairs that first belonged to his great-grandparents, the farm’s founders. The familiar sounds of birds chirping and the low mumbling amongst customers meet your ears. You both gaze fondly at the horizon while immersed in casual chatter, all the while tending to several families as they come and go.

Whenever a car turns off of the two-lane, paved road and onto the noisy gravel path leading into a small grassy area that functions as a parking lot, Donghyuck excuses himself from the lively conversation both of you always find yourselves sharing. He stands, brushing his hands off on his faded denim overalls that are only slightly too large for his frame. His hand lifts up the baseball cap he always wears while the other runs through his hair, and your gaze falls on the back of his neck where it rests in longer strands. You always wonder why he keeps it like that since he complains about how hot it makes him feel. The humid summer air is stifling enough as it is, after all. The thought vanishes only moments after it arrives, though, and he flashes a brilliant grin at you over his shoulder as he descends the wooden stairs leading down to the patio.

Today, a happy looking family gets out of a shiny silver minivan. The mother and father with two kids, a boy and a girl, make their way toward the covered patio and Donghyuck bounds down the steps like always, grabbing 4 stacked pails in his calloused hands. You lean forward a little in the creaky old rocking chair, your weight in your toes, ears just barely picking up his conversation with them. He greets the parents warmly, shaking their hands and then he kneels down to be eye-level with the small children. The little boy seems shy as he clasps his fingers in front of him, thumbs twiddling back and forth, while his sister is clearly the opposite. She skips over to the much taller boy, saying hello.

“Do you two like blueberries?” He asks them, one arm resting on his knee and the other extending a pail out in front of him. The young girl nods enthusiastically before she takes the container from his hand and turns around, passing it to her brother as he nods, making eye contact with Donghyuck for the first time. A small smile grows on his face when he’s met with the wider one of the unfamiliar but still welcoming stranger. His sister speaks up again, “Every Friday we get to help Mom make her famous blueberry pie!”

“Is that right?”

“Yep! In the morning we always go to the supermarket and get fresh blueberries,” she explains. Her mother leans down, softly telling her that this week they’re here to pick blueberries instead, fresh from the farm they were grown on.

“Really? So that means we’re not buying them at the store anymore?”

“Well, honey, today we can pick enough blueberries to last us for a whole month’s worth of blueberry pies.”

“And besides,” Donghyuck starts, still kneeling on the ground next to her, his boot leaving an imprint in the dirt underneath it, “it’ll taste even better since you picked them yourselves, don’t you think?” The boy punctuates his question with a wink.

The young boy steps up for the first time, grin stretching even wider as he finds the courage to happily agree with the wise words. Exclaiming eagerly and in a way that only a child can, he takes his sister by the hand that’s not holding his small bucket before scurrying off, their parents close behind after grabbing pails for each other as well as a third that their daughter had forgotten in the midst of the excitement.

As Donghyuck joins you on the porch once again, you can’t help but smile as you remember how he interacts with each and every customer that passes through the weathered fence surrounding the property. When he talks to kids in particular, his eyes seem to light up, and you see just how much of a kid he still is deep down. His playfulness never fails to make an appearance whenever you spend time with him.

You’re thankful for the moo of a cow in the distance that interrupts his question of why you’re smiling like an idiot and hopefully drowns out the steady sound of your pounding heart.

The next week he tells you that the rest of his family is out of town, and he’s been left with the responsibility of running the farm all on his own. He usually does most of the work himself these days anyway since he’s getting older and more mature, although some of his jokes say otherwise. You miss the way his mom would poke her head out of the upstairs window of the main house, calling out a greeting to you both from across the property, overjoyed at the sight of her son spending time with the particular customer he’s mentioned so many times before. Whether he would share an amusing anecdote of yours with his siblings at the dinner table or point out something that reminded him of you, it was far too easy for her to figure out how he feels about you.

In an effort to spend more time with him, keep him company and just help out in general, you offer to stay at the house with him for a little while. Or at least until his family gets back from their trip, and to your delight, he agrees. You arrive in the late evening, on a day when the fields are closed, just in time to catch the setting sun as it disappears behind the trees and power lines that seem to stretch for miles in the distance. Tugging an overnight bag of belongings with you, you knock twice on the wood of his front door.

It opens swiftly and Donghyuck welcomes you inside, wearing an apron that he must have outgrown 10 years ago, at least. You snicker at the snug choice of attire and he shoves your shoulder, though not with enough force to make you stumble. He whines a little in that saccharine-sweet voice of his that makes your heart clench, but you don’t give in. Not this time.

When the farm is closed for the day, the family has a chance to pick from some of the bushes that are planted in a more secluded area, all to ensure that they also have a big enough supply of the fruit to last them for the season. So Donghyuck had woken up at the crack of dawn, although you aren’t sure why. He had made his way downstairs and out into the dewy air of the morning, gathering just enough blueberries to bake a cobbler that night when you came over, since he’d learned it was your favorite treat after hours of conversation about anything and everything. The recipe comes straight from his great-grandfather, he informs you, and it’s written on a yellowing piece of paper in handwriting that you couldn’t read even if you tried. He, however, can somehow decode the seemingly nonsensical swirls and lines on the page. You suppose it’s part of the magic of the family recipe that gets passed down with it.

Donning an apron yourself, you join him at the sink as you begin washing the berries, gently grabbing a handful at a time as you let the tap water clean them. When you both reach into the large container at the same time, your hands brush and you almost scoff at the swell of your heart that you feel inside your chest.

As you’re working together to make the batter that you will soon pour into his mother’s finest glass baking pan, Donghyuck briskly swipes his fingertip on the side of the bowl where the mixer had splattered the combined ingredients, extending it in your direction. You raise an eyebrow at the boy and said fingertip before turning your head away.

“If you really think that I would lick that off your finger, then you’re terribly mistaken.”

Coyly, the mischief-maker in question retorts back as you glance at his impishly delighted expression. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you state rather firmly, but matching the mirth in his eyes with a glimmer of amusement in your own. “I’ll settle for the spatula, thanks.”

“Suit yourself.” Donghyuck rolls his eyes, your answer completely expected. At least he tried.

You won’t deny that you enjoy sampling a bit of the batter of a dessert as much as anyone. But not that much.

Left with no choice, he takes himself up on his own offer and sticks his finger into his mouth with an audible ‘pop,’ exaggerating the action just to get a rise out of you, feeling the upward curl of his lips when you react ever so slightly with a silent chuckle.

You’re adding the last bit of flour to the mixture when you accidentally get some of the powdery substance on your hand in the process. Turning the automatic mixer off, you momentarily forget about your stained skin and you make the mistake of wiping your face with the back of your wrist, smearing the white stuff on your cheek. Donghyuck notices, of course, and an innocent attempt to help clean up the mess only ends with the two of you blushing like crazy.

“Let me help you,” he speaks up.

“Don’t be ridiculous, the pan’s not that heavy, and even if it was, I’m strong enough anyway—”

You’re about to pick up the glassware but his sudden strides over to you from across the large kitchen cause everything you were saying, doing, and thinking to come to a complete stop. You’ve never really had a problem with personal space before, but right now he’s leaning down and his face is so close that you’re afraid to even breathe for fear that the action might just throw you off balance and towards him. For fear that you might not push his chest away with your hands if that happens.

He’s bending his knees to match your eye level and his hand lifts from its place at his side, hovering in midair not far from where the flour still lingers on your skin. His eyes had been so focused on the stain but the shrinking proximity between you and him pulls his gaze from your cheek to your eyes, blown wide and confused because you still have no idea that there’s something on your face.

The undoubtedly palpable tension in the room almost reaches down his throat and pulls the words from his vocal chords in an effort to dispel the heavy air circulating around the both of you.

“There’s… uh… you have flour…”

Donghyuck still hasn’t broken the less than comfortable eye contact, but he’s unable to look away for reasons unknown to him. After an agonizing amount of seconds your brain switches on again, albeit slowly, and you’re able to properly process the position you’re currently in. Your own hand starts to lift and though the movement is slight, it’s enough to draw his eyes down to it and he finds the strength to complete his goal at last.

His thumb swipes across your cheek and without even thinking he pops it into his mouth once again, forgetting about the unpleasant taste of flour. The way that the boy’s face scrunches up when the bitter powder meets his tongue doesn’t eliminate the awkwardness completely, but it’s a start. You hastily make an effort to avert your gaze as you frantically wonder if he caught your face that’s surely as warm as a blazing fireplace, all because he did the unthinkable with that stupid finger of his.

You won’t let yourself dwell on how his hand is just the right size to cradle the side of your head, or how much nicer his lips look up close, or how they must taste like the blueberries that he snuck into his mouth as you made the cobbler, or how you wished he had used his lips on your cheek instead of his thumb.

How you wish he had closed the almost nonexistent distance between your flushed faces.

These thoughts do nothing to ease the steadily growing heat that’s currently taking over your skin. Your eyes land on the glass pan and you take the opportunity to grab it, acting as a sort of distraction for your mind and also as something to snap you both out of your embarrassed hazes.

You get the finished dessert into the oven with no trouble after that, and now you have a little over half an hour of time to kill before it’s ready, so Donghyuck leads you into the nicely furnished family room and plops down onto the plush couch. When you don’t immediately follow he glances up at you, sensing that you’re still hesitant after the awkward moment. He smiles softly and almost apologetically, as if he’s sending a silent signal that you’ll both move past it soon enough, an invitation to put the incident behind the two of you. And you accept it.

You take a deep breath before you sit down next to him, sinking into the cushions underneath and behind you. The material dips slightly under the weight of both your bodies and gravity itself seems to be in control as it pushes you together, shoulders bumping and the sides of your legs being pressed up against each other. Thankfully, the television roars to life with the laughter of a live audience on one of your favorite shows, and you exhale a puff of air you didn’t even know you were holding in. With every scene that lights up the large display, you curl up further and further into his side, his arm migrating across the back of the sofa and winding around your shoulder only a few centimeters at a time.

This feels like home. Donghyuck feels like home.

The buzzer of the oven interrupts when you’re halfway through another episode, prompting you to jump to your feet just as abruptly as the alarm-like noise had started blaring. Consequently his arm flops down by his side as he mentally curses the loud intrusion into what had become a comfortable atmosphere, an atmosphere that was finally surrounding you again after what felt like an eternity but had really only been an hour.

In no time, you’re returning from the kitchen, the warm blueberry contents of the cobbler oozing out onto the flowery pair of plates you had grabbed from the cupboard. Handing one to him and setting the other aside for yourself, you quickly go back around the corner to grab two tall cups of cold milk. Your second time joining him on the couch comes more easily, almost all of the earlier tension having dispersed into the room, wafting out the windows along with the delicious scent of the fruit baked into the sweet, flaky crust. In fact, you’re fairly sure that it’s strong enough for even his neighbors down the road to smell. Which reminds you: you need to package some up to deliver to them tomorrow, per Donghyuck’s suggestion.

You’re most definitely sure that he smells the aroma, of course, because it’s hard to ignore the eagerness with which he takes a large bite of the dessert. “We make better bakers that I thought we would,” the boy comments, taking a sip of milk. The white mustache that it creates above his top lip when he lifts the glass to his mouth is enough to make you giggle, and you’re unaware that this predictable reaction was his objective all along. He grins, rather satisfied.

With your stomach now full, a head-plaguing drowsiness begins to set in. It slowly fills your senses enough for you to drift off, fork nearly falling out of your hand and onto the floor before he catches it, along with your weight when you slump down against his shoulder. Donghyuck is barely able to reach one of the end tables, and he sets the dishes and silverware down next to the now empty cups. Your body unconsciously clings to his like a koala to a branch, with both hands clutching one of his arms and a leg hooked over his thighs.

He takes one look at you and wishes he could pause time, to stay here forever. It’s not every day that he meets someone who can easily match the amount of snark he possesses. Simultaneously, you also balance out the friendship you share with your compassion and sense of wonder about the world, always evident in your morning routine when you come to the fields. Donghyuck has noticed that you bring out those same qualities in him, perhaps more than anyone else ever has. And just like you’re holding him right now, he vows to hold on to you.

As much as he doesn’t want to get up and for the evening to progress, he knows he should, that it has to. So he manages to detach from the hold of your limbs, gently pushing himself up and off of the couch so he doesn’t disturb you.

Glancing at the large antique clock above the doorway that leads out into the hall, Donghyuck realizes it’s much later than he thought. He decides to turn in for the night, but on a regular day he usually finds himself still awake well past midnight, despite the need to wake up early the next morning and run the farm from the crack of dawn.

Since you’re tired and he doesn’t want to risk you waking up alone in an unfamiliar bed and place, he comes to the conclusion that he’ll join you. Only leaving your side for a moment, he puts the cobbler into the refrigerator and turns off the kitchen lights behind him as he goes. Softly padding halfway up the stairwell, Donghyuck makes sure there’s enough light for him to see where he’s going before making his way back into the living room one last time. He tucks one arm underneath both of your bent knees as tenderly as he can, and places the other behind the middle of your back, hand gently curling against your waist. He carries you with probably the most delicacy he’s shown in his entire life.

Going upstairs is generally an easy task, but doing so while carrying another person is a different story. He would never forgive himself if he were to hurt you in any way. If even your foot happened to bump the wall next to you, a burst of frustration at himself and his own carelessness would surface regardless of the impact’s intensity

Your position in his arms gives him yet another opportunity to gaze upon your peaceful expression, and he begins to think more deeply about what you are to him. Looking forward to your visits makes his work so much more enjoyable and worth it. You’re someone who truly appreciates what he and his family do for a living and you faithfully support them with your business as a customer whenever you can, which is a rare thing to find in most people that come. Most are just bored and in need of something to occupy themselves or their kids. Sometimes they don’t even pick that many berries. But you always make sure to bring your own basket, which holds just as many as if not more than the ones the farm provides, and fill it to the brim. In his eyes, you’re special.

Amidst the mostly-asleep state that you’re in, your eyes just barely open far enough to see a blurry picture of Donghyuck’s face as he carries you through the house and up into the bedroom he had suggested you share. He sets you down onto the soft mattress before pulling the covers up to your stomach, retreating into the attached bathroom to quickly change into a thin t-shirt and his favorite pair of plaid pajama pants.

The memory of that conversation floods back to you. Initially, you refused the offer, saying that he would rest better if he had more space to move around. But being the clingy person he is, he had pouted desperately as you struggled to stand your ground in the discussion. “Fine,” you had huffed, only half-frustrated with those doe eyes he always uses to get his way, and your lips had great difficulty holding back a smile.

The hum of electricity that can be heard emanating from the next room snaps you out of these thoughts, and is enough to wake you up a bit more. Your gaze scans the surroundings for a minute or two before he opens the door again, his eyes now looking as heavy as your own.

Donghyuck joins you under the blanket and shifts to lay on his side, facing you. It’s funny that you’re both able to adjust to a situation so intimate and new almost instantly. Still on your back, your head turns and you’re conscious enough to raise an eyebrow at the boy. There’s that pout again.

“Please?” He mumbles, his bottom lip jutting out in an action he’s perfected. You know exactly what he’s after: cuddles.

You don’t even try to hide the playful roll of your eyes as you scoot a little closer, but it’s not close enough for him. He gets impatient, meeting you halfway, and this time it’s him that flings a leg over yours. An endearing, small noise of contentment from him fills your ears as you take notice of his arms, now interlocked behind your neck and around your shoulders. You melt into the snug position, a hand landing on his forearm that’s laying across your chest. Turning ever so slightly to the side, your other hand winds around his middle and eventually rests just above his hip, pulling him into you even more. Donghyuck nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, a few strands of your hair tickling his skin as he sighs in complete and utter bliss.

Determined to savor the moment until the irresistible inevitability of slumber starts to overtake you once more, you fight to stay awake with all of your might. But in what you thought was only the blink of an eye, the glittering stars visible through the bay window’s sheer drapes morph into the pale golden rays of first light. There’s a soft murmur of your name along with an unintentional, almost imperceptible peck to the place where his lips meet your skin, and you’re wide awake. Not to mention a little shocked.

He’s utterly unfazed, though, slowly waking up now that the sun has gotten brighter, its beams filtering into the room and hitting his already glowing face that becomes a gorgeous honey-colored hue.

Donghyuck reluctantly withdraws his arms from your form after one last embrace, effortlessly rising from the wrinkled bed sheets and offering his hand to you when you start to do the same. A sleepy smile makes a home on his features and he reminds you of your task to deliver a portion of the dessert you made to his next-door neighbors.

That’s exactly what you do, first making yourselves presentable in the bathroom by smoothing down wild bed hair and freshening up your faces with cool water. Being around to see each other’s natural morning states is a major act of trust, and he doesn’t miss an opportunity to poke fun at you for it.

“How long does it normally take for you to do your hair every day before you come here?” His tone is dripping with feigned innocence, but the sly grin on his lips says otherwise.

“Shut up, Hyuck.”

Tupperware container in hand, your shoes step in rhythm with his as you amble along the grassy shoulder of the street together. Somehow you end up hand-in-hand by the time you reach his neighbors’ front patio.

“Donghyuck!” The elderly woman at the door greets him with a twinkling voice, her husband coming into view soon after. “Look who it is, honey,” she motions fondly to the boy who they both once knew to be much shorter and younger, but now is all grown up before their eyes. “You’re getting so tall. It seems like only yesterday you were scurrying through the blueberry fields and waving to us through the gaps in the fence.”

“Yes ma’am, it does,” he responds politely. The couple has been living there for as far back as he can remember, and quite honestly they feel as if they’ve become part of his family, too.

Her warm brown eyes light up. “Is this the customer your mother was telling me about last week? She mentioned how close you’ve become, and now I’m finally seeing it for myself. You make a lovely pair.”

“Oh—” Donghyuck startles. Not much can get him flustered, but he hadn’t exactly been anticipating for his mom to recount all the things he’s said about you to the sweetest and most innocent of elderly couples. Of course they would assume that there’s something going on.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, with you. He wouldn’t mind at all, really. He’ll just need to have a word about a little thing called privacy with his mother later.

You see the glint of panic in his eyes and speak up. It’s not often he makes such an easy target for teasing. “Thank you,” you state graciously, the smugness in the statement only noticeable to him. “We’re very happy together.” He feels you lean into him, fingers unwrapping from his and gripping the other side of his waist. You know exactly what you’re doing, and so does he.

Almost forgetting to hand over the slices of cobbler you’d cut earlier, Donghyuck nudges you to do so, and the four of you exchange thanks and farewells before you’re on your way back to the farm.

“Happy together, huh?”

“Shut up, Hyuck.” You mumble something else afterwards that he doesn’t quite catch.

“What’s that? Didn’t hear you,” he sings, stopping in his tracks. You do the same. “Shut up and what?”

“...And kiss me.”

After many days and many nights spent wondering, you can confirm that his lips do, indeed, taste as sweet as the blueberries in those fields.

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sophiaforevs · 2 years ago

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Conversations I think I'd have with myself at different ages in life.

5yo me: Why are you wearing a dress?

34yo me: It makes me happy.

5: But boys aren't allowed to do girl stuff. Dad said.

34: Dad loves us and he was a good father but sometimes adults are wrong about stuff. Would you like to show me your Legos?

5: OKAY!

10 yo me: So you became a movie writer right? Or a big name architect?

34 yo me: No, we're a stay at home mom.

10: Oh... <gets really quiet>

34: It's okay to be confused by things. You're really strong for finding ways to survive being bullied and alone. We won't be alone forever and I'm really proud of you.

10: Thanks. Did the star wars prequels ever come out?

34: Yeah, and it's okay to like them. A lot of people won't but it's okay to like things that others don't.

15 yo me: Did we become ministers?

34 yo me: No. We don't really go to church anymore though I'd like to start going again. It's just hard to find one accepting of LGBT people.

15: But being gay is a sin. Are we going to hell?

34 <with sad smile>: No we're not. It'll take you a long time to figure that out but you're going to come out the other end with a faith based on love and not fear. Your relationship with God is strong and you're passionate about being a loving person rather than telling everyone to go to church.

15: <anxiety>

34: I know. And we still deal with that. But there are many moments of peace and beauty.

20yo me: Did we go into politics.

34: Steven, you're the most conservative guy in your friend group by a wide margin. I'm a socialist trans lesbian. It's a wild ride becoming Sophia but you'll be glad you didn't do more than vote.

25 yo me: <sits in depressed silence>

34 yo me: Hey, I know how hurt you are right now. It'll get better. You find someone to love who loves you, she's right around the corner. You find your passion. You're doing your best and it's good enough.

30yo me: I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this. My marriage feels like it's about to fall apart, my relationship with my family is in tatters, and I'm barely able to function.

34yo me: I know. But you learn to stand up to mom and dad when they're being shitty. You and wife have the most beautiful and bright little girl. You live your life full-time as Sophia. It's still a long road ahead but you don't give up and I'm so proud of you.

Future me shows up: So what did we learn?

34yo me: I've had a difficult life. But I've grown and loved and been loved.

FM: And it's far from over. You keep growing. You keep persevering. You keep going and you surround yourself with love. Do you love all of your past selves?

34 <tearing up>: Yeah I do.

FM: And I love you.

#younger self #self love #self forgiveness

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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch1: GI Joe And Army Barbie Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Intro: Following the Child Sex Trafficking job, The Losers all go their own way for a break before they are due back in Fairfax County. Stella is enjoying some quiet time with her mother.

And Jensen.

But, it isn’t ever quiet where he is involved.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson.

A/N: So here it is! We’ve been waiting to bring you this one for a LOOOOONG time, and we hope we don’t disappoint. We can’t wait to dive into this fic! We pick up in 2007, roughly 2 years or so before the events of the Losers Film (in our head anyway) and we can’t wait to cram it full of adventure. Please let us know what you think with a reblog and a comment.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Prologue

May 2007

Stella and her mom sat in the kitchen of her childhood home in Manchester, New Hampshire. It was late morning one Friday morning, the day after she had returned home following debriefs at the CIA base in DC. It had been an emotional reunion, not having seen her mother for almost 8 months in person. They’d stayed up late with a bottle of wine before retiring to bed and after a lazy morning she had eaten a huge breakfast of pancakes, bacon and eggs, god knows how many rounds of toast and some decent coffee.

“Have you had enough to eat honey?” Her mom asked.

“Yup, honestly I’m stuffed, Ma. It feels good to be eating home cooked food for a change.” She smiled.

“Yeah, well, God only knows what you’ve been eating out there.” Julie mumbled as Stella smiled at her mom’s typical mother concern.

“So when are you due back in the office?” Julie pressed and Stella’s smile grew even wider at her mom’s name for the George Bush Centre for Intelligence in Fairfax County, the CIA HQ where The Losers would be based predominantly when they weren’t running missions.

“I have another week of leave. They gave me longer seeing as I was down there for so long. Clay and the rest only got a few days, much to Jake’s disgust, he heads back over there Monday.” Stella shook her head snorting “You know if he had his way he would be on permanent leave, drinking and watching football on TV.”

“He hasn’t changed then?” Julie grinned.

“Nope.”

“I bumped into his mom the other day at the supermarket.” Stella’s mom continued.

“Yeah? How is Janet?”

“She’s good.” Julie nodded “John has been building a new shed for the garden…or maybe it was a summer house. Either way, they were planning on having a BBQ soon when Gracie finishes school”

“Sounds good, have you seen them much at all recently?” Stella asked.

“We’ve got together a few times yes. Which reminds me….” Julie narrowed her eyes “She told me Jake has been back in the US now for 12 months. You tell him from me he’s gonna get a slap for not coming over to see me when he came back home to visit.”

Stella laughed “I’ll make sure he knows how disgusted you are in him, don’t worry.”

They sat chatting for a little while longer before Julie stood up to clear the plates, waving away Stella’s offer of help, as she always did when she was home. Stella headed into the lounge, picked up her laptop and opened up her browser, dialling into her military account. About 15 minutes later Julie walked in.

“What are you doing?”

“I got some paper work and stuff to sort, you know for the accommodation in the Condo that Clay sent me through.” Julie shook her head, “You know, Estella, I really wish you’d get a normal job-“

Stella sighed “Ma, don’t start…”

“You’re as stubborn as your father and look where that got him!”

“Wow.” Stella looked up, arching her eyebrow. “Nice. Good guilt trip.”

“You’re my little girl.” Julie’s voice grew quiet. “ I worry. And I miss you. “I know, but…this is my job. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.” Stella shrugged “But now, I’m home and…I’m not on tour all the time. I’ll be back for a week once very month and, well, you still have Rey, she literally lives 10 minutes away!”

Julie rolled her eyes “For all the good that does. She only visits when she wants food or to complain about something.”

Stella seized the opportunity to divert the conversation and she snorted “Complain about what? Which fucking sports car Richard wants to buy her next. Or because he doesn’t like whatever pretentious middle name she has planned for their first born?” Before Julie could reply they both heard the back door open to the kitchen and a familiar voice called “Yo, Stevensons…” Julie looked at Stella who rolled her eyes. “Speak of the devil…”

Jensen appeared in the doorway to the lounge, grinning “Oh, we’re you talking about me gorgeous?”

“No I was, and how you’ve been home on US soil for almost a year and not paid me one visit Jacob.” Julie glared at him, folding her arms.

“Oooh the full name. Am I in trouble?” Jensen grinned.

“Yes, you damned well are JJ.” Julie said, opening her arms “Now come here…”

Grinning Jensen stepped forward to give Stella’s mum a hug, pulling back with a yelp as she slapped him round the head.

“Shit, Jules!! What the hell was that for?”

“I told you! Your mother was telling me just the other day you’ve been back to Manchester now a few times and didn’t even think of paying me a visit?”

“Sorry Jules, been busy”

Julie narrowed her eyes “Busy doing what?”

“Wow. I really am in trouble huh.” Jensen shrugged. Stella snorted and Jensen looked over at where she was concentrating on the screen of her laptop. “What you doing Stel?” Stella let out a sigh at the same time her mother did, before Julie headed back into the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Jensen asked, watching Julie leave before he turned to Stella “Am I supposed to sigh now?” “I was just filling in the paper work for the condo.” She replied as Jake sat next to her “Mom still isn’t a big fan of me being in the military. Swear she still thinks I’m 10 or something.”

“Well I know for a fact you aren’t” Jensen flashed her his trademark goofy smile and Stella slapped his arm.

“Shut up JJ” “Ouch…!” Jake rubbed his arm “Stel, be gentle.” She rolled her eyes and he reached for her laptop “Ok, let me see…” he glanced at the computer “You know this thing is totally outdated?”

“It does a job, I don’t care.” “Speaking of jobs…” Jensen looked towards the kitchen door, “How about you and me…”

“Jesus Jake!” Stella looked at him as he grinned “Here, whilst my mom is home? You have issues.”

“Didn’t bother you 10 years ago…”

“Yeah, well I didn’t know any better, you’re living proof of that. And besides, I’ve grown up since then. You should try it.” “Hmmm, you know one of the perks of being Black Ops means we all get our own private digs in the Condo” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“I swear to god Jake, you’re a fucking nightmare.” Stella rubbed her temples “Why are you here?”

“Came to invite you to the Petunia’s game tomorrow. It’s been a while since we went out on a date babe.”

“A while?” Stella shook her head laughing. “Your concept of time measurement really amazes me.” Jake chuckled “So whaddya say?” he asked, giving her a goofy grin.

“Yeah why not?” Stella asked “Which girl wouldn’t dream of going to watch an under 8’s girl soccer game? Can’t believe my luck.” “Don’t be a whiny bitch!” Jake rolled his eyes “We’re meeting Pooch and his girl later in the evening for drinks.”

“Great, so now it’s turned into a double date.” She rolled her eyes.

“Why you being so grumpy Stel?” Jake frowned.

Stella sighed “Sorry Jakey…just..oh I dunno, I guess mom just pissed me off a bit that’s all. Bringing up my dad, suggesting I’m gonna go the same way he did.”

Jake pondered this for a moment before he took a deep breath. “You know she’s just worried about you that’s all.”

Stella smiled “I know…I know. Doesn’t help I can’t really tell her what I’m doing, other than running CIA tasked missions.”

“Come’ ere…” Jake threw an arm round her and she leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. “How about I help you fill that paper work out and then we can head and grab some lunch or a drink, whatever.”

“Now that’s actually quite a good idea.”

Jensen smiled and gently kissed her head. “It happens occasionally.”

Stella looked up at him “Guess it’s my lucky day then.”

“Well mine was like 10 years ago so guess I can say about time Stel.”

“Smooth…” she rolled her eyes and he shrugged, dipping his head and pressing his lips to hers in a soft kiss, but before it could go any deeper another loud voice rang out from the kitchen and Stella pulled away giving a groan.

“Just what I fucking need.”

Jensen grimaced at the sound of Stella’s eldest sister as her airey tone grew louder, before the door to the lounge opened

“Aww GI Joe and Army Barbie are back in town.”

“Fuck off Aubrey.” Stella looked up at where her sister was stood leaning in the doorframe.

“Hello to you too.” Aubrey rolled her eyes.

“S’up Rey? How’s Dick?” Jensen grinned at her. Stella nudged him, trying hard not to smirk

“You know full well his name is Rick, Jacob.” Aubrey replied with a bored tone. “You were at the wedding after all.

“Yeah…” Jensen mused “Still looks like a Dick to me.”

At that Stella snorted and he flashed her a quick wink. She loved how he always had her back against her sister and her snobby bastard husband. Aubrey merely rolled her eyes, she was well used to Jake and his quips by now.

“Yeah laugh all you want losers” and with that she left and made her way to the kitchen

“Well, she’s not wrong we are Losers.” Jake shrugged “Yeah but she doesn’t know, let’s keep it that way.” Stella sighed, before she shook her head “I don’t know how your sister is still friends with her, I mean out of choice? Really?

“Well, us Jensens are made to please.”

At that point Julie re-entered the living room “Jake are you staying for lunch or are you expected anywhere else to please today? I’m making lasagne.”

“Mom we literally ate breakfast an hour ago.” Stella looked up at her and Julie smiled.

“I know, but I’m making the pasta from fresh and have a few other things to do so it won’t be ready for a while. You two do your…thing and let me know what you decide. Rick and Rey are staying, he’s coming later so…” “Can’t wait.” Stella deadpanned.

“Please don’t start Estella…” Julie shot her a look.

“Anyway, change of subject…how is her shit soap selling?” Jake leaned back on the sofa and Stella snorted.

“Ask her, I dare you. I’d pay to see her face.”

“I’d do it for free if it makes you smile.”

“You two, behave if you’re staying.” Julie said sternly, pointing at them both.

“You gonna be pissed if we don’t stay?” Stella looked at her mom.

“I’ll be more pissed if you do and don’t behave.” The reply came back.

“Cross my heart Jules…” Jensen made the sign over his chest “Best behaviour. Anything for your lasagne.”

“Glad to hear it Jake.” Julie raised her eyebrow and then turned from the room.

“Looks like we’re staying then.” Stella looked at Jensen who merely grinned back.

“Sorry Stel, but you know I love verbal sparring with Rick the Prick.”

She snorted “You’re a bad man JJ” “I’m your bad man.” He winked.

Stella looked at him, cocking her head to one side trying to figure out what exactly he meant. As far as she was concerned he wasn’t after anything serious. Especially seeing he was the one that broke it off 8 years ago. Sure they’d fallen into the whole friends with benefits thing but it was no strings and all that…

She took a deep breath, cleared her throat and nodded to her laptop “So, er…forms?”

****

Two hours later they were still filling in the damned paperwork, Stella having a lot to complete…that and the fact they’d been distracted a bit by laughing and joking around, Jake showing her on Google Maps the location of a few good restaurants and bars not too far from the Condo to head to. They both looked up as Julie walked back into the lounge to tell them lunch would be ready in 20. They finished up what they were doing before walking into the Kitchen where Stella was greeted by her brother-in-law with his usual stiff hug, whereas Jake took great delight in pumping his hand up and down furiously, grinning at him.

Stella shook her head, smiling to herself as they all sat down outside in the garden, making the most of the nice weather, and began to eat. Richard was telling some boring tale from his office and Jensen was hanging off his every word, pretending to give a shit when Stella knew nothing could be further from the truth. He was merely waiting for his opportunity, which was handed to him a few minutes later by Rey who couldn’t resist getting the first shot in.

“Jake, how’s the army geek life treating you?”

“Great Rey, how’s the soap?”

Stella instantly choked on her water, and Jensen looked at her, patting her on the back as she recovered.

“Oh, it’s ok.” Rey waved a hand “I haven’t made much recently, been so busy with you know…other stuff.” “Yeah, that other stuff just keeps gettin’ in the way of…soap.” Jake shook his head.

“Are you joking with me now?” Rey narrowed her eyes.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Jensen shook his head. “In fact, I’m in awe of you. I mean it literally amazes me how you can make that stuff and sell it when you hate getting your hands dirty so much.” Jake swallowed a mouth of his food and grinned at her.

Rey glared at Jake “I wear gloves, ass-wipe.”

“You really don’t get irony do you?” Stella laughed, taking a drink from her glass of water.

At that point her mother caught her eye and gave her a stern glare, her earlier warning to the two of them to behave flashed across Stella’s mind but she was struggling to care. Her and Jake ‘Tag-teaming’ Rey and Rick was a well-practised art that the two of them had fine-tuned over the years, and it was the only time Stella ever felt she could get one up on her sister.

Rey looked at her and flicked her hair behind her shoulder “You may laugh but its selling really well. I’m actually thinking of expanding into a baby range.”

“Be handy for when we get pregnant.” Rick smiled at her.

Stella pulled a face as Jake grinned “You guys have that planned too? A designer little Rick or Rey on its way?”

Aubrey smiled and looked adoringly at Rick in a way that made Stella want to barf “Yeah, we’ve been trying.”

“Code for we’ve been fucking non-stop like Rabbits.” Stella mumbled.

“Estella!” Julie said sharply as Rey glared at her.

“Just because you can’t get your own relationship sorted…” she shot

“I’m not in a relationship, as well you know.”

“You sure?” Rey stared back at her, her eyes flicking to Jensen for a second. Stella felt herself grow red.

“Fuck off.”

“Ok that’s enough!” Julie said loudly “Can the pair of you just not stop this sniping for even one damned hour?”

Stella took a deep breath “Sorry Ma.”

Jake who had remained quiet, up until that point chipped up again, deflecting the conversation.

“Huh…” he pondered something before he pointed his fork at Rey “You know, if you’re trying to get pregnant it’s highly recommended to be in good spirits. You keep getting so angry and snippy at people, you’re gonna scare Rick’s little soldiers away. It’s a question of PH.”

Rey and Rick exchanged a glance whilst Julie looked down at her plate, coughing slightly, a smile flickering on her mouth, her admonishing clearly forgotten. Stella’s eyes moved from her mother to Jake and she mouthed ‘are you for real?’

Jensen simply grinned, shrugging, as Stella shook her head, trying not to laugh. She adored Jake when he was in full on playful mode like this. He was always full of random, stupid trivia that you could never tell whether was actual fact or simply made up for the sake of sheer, stupid comedy value and he could use it perfectly to diffuse a situation and divert attention just as he had done right now. The best bit was, that Rey and Rick were utterly oblivious to his tactic and were now looking at him, like his words were gospel.

“Where the hell did you hear that?” Rey asked.

“I read it in Nature…” Jake shrugged, taking another mouthful of his food.

“I’m impressed Jake.” Rick looked at him.

“Well, sometimes I’m more than just a pretty face Dick.” Jensen shrugged.

Rick blinked “Did he just-“

“Jules, I gotta say…” Jensen cut him off before he could finish, flashing Julie his best smile “This lasagne as always is delicious.”

*****

“Damned Stel…” Jakey mumbled to himself as she heads to car. Taking in her tight jeans that show off her ass and legs, her khaki green silk chami top which hung loosely off her frame, exposing her collar bone and her light grey jacket, set off with a pair of stylish Oakley Holbrooks with matte black frames and red iridium lenses. Her hair was pulled into a side braid which hung down her right shoulder and when she smiled at him he shifted slightly in his seat.

“You look nice.” He recovered himself enough to smile as she climbed into the car.

“Thanks JJ.” She turned to him, taking in his dark jeans and grey and blue button down. “No Petunias T-shirt?”

“Well I figured seeing as we’re going out afterwards I should make a bit of an effort.” He grinned, pushing his glasses back up his nose. Stella arched an eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

“See your dad got a new car…” she mused, taking in the interior of the silver chevvy blazer before she grinned “Pity he got rid of the ford…”

Jensen smirked “Yeah, we had…good times on that back seat.”

Stella smiled and looked out of the window, before she turned back to Jake as he drove off up the road. “So who are they playing today?” she asked

“A team called the Oaks.” He said “I was checking their scores the other day, they lost their last 5 games so...” Stella smiled “You get far too invested in this you know?”

Jensen shrugged. “What can I say, I like soccer.”

Their conversation continued on the 10 minute or so drive to the Petunia’s home pitch, and eventually strayed to Jensen’s sister Jane before it moved onto their lunch yesterday and how Julie had given Stella a ticking off once Jake had left.

“You know Rey has been googling that PH bull shit don’t you?” Stella looked at Jensen as he drove towards the soccer pitches “And she’s realised it’s just that. Bull shit.” Jensen shrugged “I don’t care, she was being a bitch to you.”

“Well thankfully she left about an hour after you did yesterday so I didn’t have to put up with her for much longer.” Stella shrugged “Still, was long enough for her to keep talking about fucking soap.”

Jensen grinned “I think I touched a nerve?”

“No shit.” Stella grumbled “You know what she said? After all that about how well it was selling and them expanding the range, she told ma she only made $500 last month!”

Jensen laughed as he swung the car into a spot by the side of the road. “Yeah, that’s…not great.”

“I did point out that maybe the reason people don’t buy whatever shit she sells because they freak out at the ridiculously ostentatious name of the company.

“The Bath To Righteousness” Jensen grinned as they both climbed out. “Yeah it is pretty pretentious. Stuff like that needs an angle you know? These companies selling homemade, organic shit are ten a penny. It needs to be a catchy name, something punchy.”

“What would you call it?” Stella looked at him, slipping her arm through his as they headed over to the pitch The Petunias were playing on.

“I’ve got Soap, Bitches.” He nodded firmly. Stella burst into laughter. “Or Lick My Soap.” Jensen continued reeling off stupid names as they approached the side lines. “Soap In Your Hole…Hit Me with Your Best Soap…Slippery when Wet… Don’t Buy Soap, Won’t Be Soap”

Stella was laughing that hard she was struggling to breathe. Jensen grinned as her nose crinkled up and she let go of his arm, doubling over, clutching her stomach. “Don’t buy soap, won’t be soap?” she managed to stutter, wiping her eyes “What the fuck does that even mean?”

“It’s from an ancient Tibetan philosophy- don’t start none, won’t be none.”

“You’re so full of crap.” She snorted, shaking her head.

“Maybe I should eat one of those soap bars then?”

Stella began to laugh again and at that point Jake’s sister Jane appeared from wherever she had been and looked at the pair of them over her shades. “What the hell’s got into you?” she looked at Stella, a smile playing on her face.

“Hey Jane, What’s soap, I mean up.” Jensen quipped and Stella let out another loud howl of laughter. Jake looked at her, laughing a little before Jane shook her head

“I just can’t with you two…” Jane grinned and gave Stella a hug. “Good to see you Stel.”

“You too Jane. You look well.” She said, stepping back to take the blonde woman in fully. “Where’s Gracie?” “Oh they’re over there with their coach.” Jane said, waving her hand in the direction of the pitch “She’s been asking about you all day. Ever since Jake said you were coming she’s been so excited.”

“I can’t wait to see her either, it’s been like a year!”

“Oh she’s grown up a lot. You’ll see.” Jane smiled.

“Hear that JJ- grown up.” Stella looked at him. “Seems even your niece can manage it.”

“Says the girl that almost pissed herself laughing at the phrase slippery when wet.” Jensen eyed her over his shades and she shrugged.

“I daren’t even ask…” Jane looked at them both and Jensen simply waved her comment away.

“Oh we were just trying to think of ways to help Rey boost her soap sales.” He shrugged.

“Do I really wanna know?” Jane asked, “Mind you, she’ll probably chew my ear off about it all later.”

It wasn’t long before the teams head out to the pitch and the three of them took their seats on the small stand as they kicked off.

“I’d kill for a beer.” Stella mumbled about 5 minutes later.

“Well, I nearly bought some but thought better not. I got caught last time and fined- broke a by law apparently.” Jensen said, his eyes not leaving the game “Jane went bezerk. She’s kinda scary when she gets mad. Like you.”

Stella smiled and turned back to the game for a little while, until the Petunias made a break for goal, only to have the girl who was running through felled down by one of the Oak’s defenders.

“Oh look at that!” Jensen yelled, jumping up “Foul ref…are you blind?”

“Jake sit down.” Jane hissed, looking up at him from where she sat to Stella’s right.

“I’d say this is embarrassing but I’m used to it.” Stella shook her head.

“I swear to god behave or I’ll ban you for life.” Jane threatened him again as he continued to yell down to the pitch.

“Can you sit down please?” A voice came from behind them and Stella looked at the woman who was speaking “You’re blocking my view”

“For fucks sake…” Stella grumbled, reaching up with her left hand and yanking on his shirt “Jakey, sit!”

With a grumble he did as he was told and leaned across Stella to look at Jane “You soccer mums are a nightmare.” Jane glared at him, Stella remained focussing on the game, trying not to laugh. When Jensen moved to sit back she looked at Jane and mouthed “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Jane shook her head “He’s far worse when you’re not around.”

“God help you.”

“Yeah there was this one time he was that bad Gracie stopped talking to him for an entire weekend. Poor Kid hadn’t been so embarrassed in her life.” Jane mumbled. Jensen turned to look to his right at Stella and his sister, frowning.

“What are you two whispering about?”

“You.” Stella looked at him “Now shut up and behave.”

“No need to be so aggressive babe.” He arched an eyebrow but obeyed anyway.

“Stella, can I hire you for like ALL the games?” Jane asked, nodding to the fact Jensen was, for once, doing as he was told.

Stella snorted, shaking her head as she turned back to the match.

As it was only a kid’s game, they only played 20 minutes either half. The first one closed at 0-0 and after a quick 5 minutes break they swapped ends and kicked off the second half. About 5 minutes in the Petunias broke and this time thanks to a great pass through from Gracie they scored. Naturally Jake cheering loudest. The rest of the half was uneventful and the game ended at 1-0. As everyone began to move, the three of them headed down to the side lines, Gracie trotting towards them.

“Stella!” she grinned, throwing herself at the woman. Stella grabbed her in a hug, swinging her round slightly.

“OMG look at you! You got taller!” she smiled, ruffling her hair.

Gracie grinned “I know. But it has been a while since I saw you.” She admonished Stella a little.

“Really?” Stella grinned “Doesn’t seem that long.”

“Did you see my goal assist?” Gracie asked and Stella nodded.

“Of course I saw it honey, you were great!”

“Alright, alight, favourite uncle right here.” Jensen said, gesturing to himself.

“You’re my only uncle, duh.” Gracie rolled her eyes.

“Well guess that makes me your favourite by default then.” Jensen shrugged.

Stella pat his shoulder gently. “You were brilliant JJ.”

At that Gracie gave a snigger.

They chatted for a little while longer before Jake said they needed to leave to meet Pooch and ‘future Mrs. Pooch’. Gracie wasn’t impressed at Stella going so soon and there was a brewing tantrum until Stella assured her it wouldn’t be too long before she saw her again. In all honesty, Jensen could have spent the rest of the evening watching his niece and Stella interact. He had to concede Stel had a way with children which contrasted with the focused military Captain persona who was now part of an elite black-ops team . Mind you, Gracie had known Stella her entire life. Granted, Gracie had spent more time with Aubrey, being as she was one of her mother's best friends, than with Stel and yet it wasn't hard to tell Stel was one of Gracie's favourite people in the world.

So after a vague promise to take Gracie out for an ice cream during the week she still had left of her leave, Stella managed to avert the tantrum and they said goodbye and headed back to the car.

When they got to Tandy's, almost half an hour later, Pooch and his fiancé were already at the bar waiting for them. Pooch stood up as he spotted them approaching and he pulled Stella into a hug before greeting and patting Jensen's back and introducing Stella to his wife-to-be, Jolene. They grabbed a drink and sat down, the 4 of them chatting for a little while. Pooch and Jolene told Stella all about their wedding plans, which sounded like a beautiful ceremony planned for the following year in Mexico.

Stella was asking the reason for their wedding ceremony being in Mexico when they finished their first round. Jensen, noticing their glasses were empty, stood up to go get another round, he had already had his share of Pooch's wedding plans for the past year, and Jolene excused herself to go to the bathroom soon after, leaving Stella and Pooch alone.

"So you enjoying the chance to be at home for a few weeks Arty?" Pooch asked her.

"It’s great being with my mom but she’s already driving me crazy, telling me I need to leave the army and get a good, normal job. She’d have a fit if she knew I was part of this Elite Black ops shit."

Pooch chuckled "Well, it’s not all undercover life or death situations. You know, Jensen ended up doing 2 months at HQ working on some online terrorist cell last year. Cougar has run a few sniping jobs too. I ran a couple of training ops with some troops in Canada."

"Yeah. Clay mentioned I might get a few normal jobs…" Stella nodded, as she fiddled with the coaster on the table.

"So it’s good to be reasonably close to home, you know? Well, I say reasonably close…still like a 7 and a half hour drive. Hurrah for Military Discount on airfare…or you can go via New York and take a night there.” Pooch shrugged “Me and Jensen done that a few times. Although keeping tabs on him in Times Square can be a pain in the ass…"

"Yeah I can imagine." she laughed.

"So, what’s your dad think about your career choice?" Pooch asked then.

"No idea, he died when I was 10." Stella shrugged.

"Shit, sorry." Pooch apologised, eyes wide open at the realisation of his gaffe.

Stella gave him a comforting smile. "It's ok. You didn't know."

"No siblings?" Pooch inquired and Stella could feel his wariness as he asked another personal question.

"One." she smiled again. "Sister, she’s…” Stella hesitated, trying to thing of the most diplomatic way to phrase what she wanted to say. “Well, she’s very different to me. Her husband is a Finance Director for Lockheed Martin and earns a ridiculous amount of money so she doesn’t work. Well, unless you count running an online Etsy shop selling home-made soaps. She’s friends with JJ’s sister although fuck knows how Jane puts up with her."

"I could ask you the same thing about Jensen." Pooch joked, nodding at Jensen at the bar and Stella smiled again.

By then Pooch had noticed Arty smiled a lot. She had a warm smile that made him feel comfortable around her. That and the fact she wasn't shy to talk about her life with him. He liked her and thus he was curious about what the real nature of her relationship with Jensen was.

"So you know his family as well then?" he asked.

"Yeah I’ve known them all since I was 11." she offered.

"That’s nice." Pooch nodded.

"What is?"

"You guys being so close since you were kids." he said, smiling.

Stella smiled at him again but it was now a mischievous smile "He told you how we met?"

Pooch shook his head "No."

"It was first week of middle school. I was walking to class and my bag split. He came over to help me pick up my stuff, smacked his head straight into mine as he stood up." she stopped to let Pooch laugh it up.

"He banged his head?” Pooch snorted “Yeah that…that sounds like Captain Chaos alright…”

Stella shook her head as she gave Pooch a nudge, stretching her arm over the table. "Don’t laugh, he was cute. A dork but cute. And he was a friend. My dad had only been dead 6 months or so and we had moved back home from Kentucky to be nearer our grandparents so I didn’t really know anyone. But, he came straight over when everyone else was laughing at me and he deliberately placed himself so no one would see me crying." At that Pooch saw Stella glancing over at Jensen, smiling softly. "Been hanging out ever since."

"So when did you two…you know…cross the line so to speak."

"He asked me out on my 17th birthday. I’d liked him for years but didn’t think he thought of me in that way. We dated through senior year and then we both went off to Norwich University for the ROTC." She explained.

"Oh, so you didn’t direct enter either then?"

"No. I talked to Clay about it and he suggested I do the ROTC so I could get a college education as well. I suggested it to Jakey and we both went for it."

"So, excuse my prying but why you two beak up? Seems like you were together for pretty much the most important decisions of your lives?"

Stella hesitated before answering. Although she didn't mind talking to Pooch it was the first time she explained her and Jensen's story to anyone. She hadn’t needed to up to that point, seeing as everyone she had met till then didn't know Jake too, bar their respective families and friends and they already knew what the deal between them was. Sort of.

For the first time Pooch felt like she wasn't that willing to answer. "Well, after the ROTC thing we both got our first overseas postings and, well, he suggested that maybe it was better if we called it quits before the distance tore us apart and we resented one another. I agreed. We stayed friends though."

"Friends with benefits, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that." she snorted.

Pooch looked at her. He sensed it was better not to pry more on the subject so he decided to change topics.

"So, you know Clay of old then?" he asked, remembering Clay had warned them she was like a daughter to him.

"Yeah he was in the Army with my dad. My dad was a major in the Screaming Eagles, you heard of them?"

Pooch nodded "The 101st airborne division, right?"

Stella nodded too. "Clay was first lieutenant in his command. He was killed when they launched the operation to cut off Highway 8. One of only 16 to die. Clay took it hard, he was literally right by dad when he died. A foot to the right and he’d have taken the bullet not dad, and he felt guilty for ages for not spotting the sniper but…either way one of them ended up dead. I mean, dad was only 45 when he died and Clay would have been…what, 28 or so at the time, maybe? Either way it’ no age, total waste of a life."

"You know, Clay never really talks about his past much but he did tell us once that seeing his friend die at the hand of an insurgent was what spurred him into the Special Ops. He wanted to get involved in tracking down terrorists, making places safer. Never knew who he was talking about though." Pooch offered.

"Well now you do." she shrugged "I expect it's painful for him to talk about. We’ve all been there, lost people …it’s hard."

"So that's why you joined as well? Your dad?" Pooch asked.

"Yeah. Much to Mom’s disgust. She called Clay, thought he would talk me out of it. I think his words to my mum were, and I quote “ I don’t stand a chance Jules, you know she looks up to Ian’s memory like he’s Captain America….”."

Pooch laughed out loud and Stella grinned. "Yeah she’s still not best pleased with him. And when I got stationed over in Iraq, well, I thought she was gonna hunt him down and kill him with her bare hands."

"You clearly made the right career choice though, I mean you made Captain pretty fast." Pooch stated with real admiration. “Just like Jensen did.”

"A lot of that was down to doing the ROTC and circumstance. Right place, right time…you know what it’s like in the field. They need commissioned, senior officers in Delta Force, I dare say female ones specifically to ‘fil the quota’ so to speak. I did my job well and…" she shrugged.

"From what I hear you’re selling yourself short. Clay speaks very highly of you. He was raving about this person on the inside for the entire time we were running that last op."

Stella smiled, after the conversation with her mother the day before and having to put up with her sister and brother in law's perfect life all over the weekend, Clay's words were like a balm to her.

"Good to know I’m doing something right."

Pooch was pondering Stella's words when Jensen returned from the bar with a couple of beer bottles and two deep orange coloured cocktails.

"Sorry guys, they had a new bartender who wasn't very sure about the best way to prepare a Sailor's Grave." He shrugged “So, this is for Pooch, this is for Mrs. Pooch and this one is for my girl…" he said, placing the drinks ceremoniously on the table, flashing a wink at Stella when he said the last part.

Pooch raised an eyebrow at Stella. The boundaries in Jensen and Stella's relationship, whatever that was, were clearly a little blurred.

Stella rolled her eyes before speaking "I’m not your girl Jake, not since you dumped me when you went over to Burkina Faso." She flinched a little as that came out slightly harsher than she meant and Jensen noticed.

"Ouch doll. Bitter much?" he frowned.

Stella took a deep breath but didn’t say anything. Worst thing she could do was encourage him, whether it was in favour or against, his attempts of flirting. Thankfully, at that moment Jolene returned to the booth.

"Sorry I took so long, I got a call from the office." She apologised as she sat at her place next to Pooch.

Stella seized the chance to divert the conversation and get Jake out of her mind and sight for a minute and she smiled at Jolene and asked “So what do you do for a living?”

"Oh I’m a paralegal for a local firm in Concord." Jolene explained before taking a sip from her cocktail.

Soon both women were engaged in a lively conversation as Stella continued to ask her questions, happy to keep her mind occupied and off all thoughts of Jake and the little tension earlier. Eventually, however, last orders were called and the 4 agreed it was time to go.

“Jolene seemed nice.” Stella broke the silence that had fallen in the car. “They make a nice couple.”

"Yeah, Pooch is a good guy and she’s a nice gal so…" Jensen agreed, hands on the wheel.

They both fell silent again, Jake concentrating on the road ahead. He was anxious and hoped Stella hadn't noticed, though they had never been so silent in a car drive. Something had been bugging him since that night in the barracks after the mission. The sex had been amazing, it always had been, but whereas they normally left it at that but now… well, being around their hometown, the place they had grown up and first started dated, going out and just doing things they used to do was sparking all sorts of feelings within him. Just an hour before, calling her his girl had just slipped out, and he’d realised from her reaction as soon as he’d done it that he shouldn’t have.

He chewed the inside of his cheek as he drove, trying to convince himself that he had done the right thing breaking it off 5 years ago. But he was also cursing himself at the same time, because being around her yesterday and today, in a normal environment, he realised that just as he’d told her that night after the mission he missed her. And not just the sex. But her. The difference being now, as he pulled onto her road, he realised he didn’t just miss her because he hadn’t seen her. He missed her being his.

His. That was his last thought as he parked up at her driveway.

"Thanks Jakey, I had fun today." Stella said, looking at him for the first time since they got in the car.

"Me too, Stel." Jensen said as he nodded.

And there was a silent pause as Stella digested the fact he wasn't even looking at her. His eyes were fixed on some point beyond the windshield.

"Ok, erm.." Stella spoke but paused to clear her throat. "Well, have a safe trip over to Base and I guess I’ll see you in a week."

He still didn't say anything, he only nodded in agreement. His eyes still not on her. So she opened the door, ignoring the lump on her throat, and made to leave when she felt him gently grabbing her arm.

"Stel…"

She stopped and looked at him. He was now looking at her, almost pleadingly, as he reached out, gently gripping her chin in his finger and thumb, his eyes bouncing across hers.

"Jake, I don’t think we..." she whispered but her protests died as he pressed his lips to her. It was a furious and needy kiss, his tongue harshly dominating hers, and when he pulled away he pressed his head to hers.

"See you in a week, doll." he said, his eyes boring into hers.

"Yeah, see you." she whispered, before getting out of the car

She looked back once to wave as he was waiting to make sure she got inside, as he always did. Once in she shut the front door and headed to the kitchen. Just as she turned around and took the first step her mom walked out of the living room.

"Not in a relationship, eh?"

"Were you spying on me?" Stella asked. Best defence is offense after all…

Her mother shrugged, a smile threatening to spread on her face. She liked Jake, she had always liked him and what was more, though she would rather be caught dead than admit to it, she liked him more than she would ever like Rick in a million years. But then, what was more important to a mother than their daughters' happiness?

Stella sighed. "It's complicated."

"Sure it is. Night honey.” her mother said and, after placing a kiss on her head, she left her to it.

Stella said goodnight and headed into the kitchen for a bottle of water. She uncapped it and leaned on the counter. It had taken her a while to get to a point where she could simply fuck Jake and leave it at that, but even then deep down she knew she had been kidding herself, fooling herself. He had been right in the bar before, she was bitter. Bitter that he had given up so easily when she thought they had something special. And she’d been that much of a sucker that she’d gone along with the whole ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement because the thought of not being with him at all had made her feel sick.

During the last 12 months they had drifted apart and even though she’d hated it at first and it had killed her, it had done her the world of good in that she had finally worked him out of her system.

Or so she thought she had.

Because here she was, less than 2 weeks of being back in his presence and she was already slipping back down that deep, dark hole. After that night post the mission they hadn’t been together that way, at all, but then the previous day he’d shown up and today he had taken her out, for what had been a really fun afternoon and evening, and it had felt just like old times.

Especially when he had kissed her like that.

Jensen was the king of giving off mixed signals, he always had been. Hell, it had taken her years to figure out he liked her that way. But they weren’t in high school anymore, and it was easy, far too easy to get swept back into something that meant more to her than it did to him. She knew she had to put a stop to it, because someone was going to get hurt. And that someone was likely to be her.

Lost in her thoughts she drained the bottle and tossed it into the recycling bin before running her hand through her hair sighing to herself.

“I’m fucked.”

**** Chapter 2

#too loose and you'll lose it #jake jensen x ofc #jake jensen x original female character #jake jensen #the losers

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nostalgic-pancakes · 3 years ago

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yo! i just read the eldritch au and i love it is so good! but also i must ask about the dream team just any and all information about them pls and thank (also maybe bonus techno?) but yeah either way 10/10 au very excite to see where it goes

Hi! Yes! So this got long. more under the cut!--

Dream: nobody knows what tf is going on with him. One day he just showed up at Drista's, she impulsively adopted him and he took a shining to minecraft. He looks kind of like and enderman, but a lil less blocky. Does not enjoy being perceived, and therefore baggy shirts, sweatpants, hoodies! he made friends with sapnap and they never saw each other until they literally moved in together, upon which Sapnap realised he now lived with an enderman who's eyes glowed bright green. Dream really likes eye contact though. and being hugged. he runs warm too :D (Dream's 'parents' are incredibly confused but they love him so...eh? he just has that face, yknow? that makes you impulsively want to adopt a child)

George: Now i have no idea why i came up with this (maybe the mushroom fanart lmao) but george is sort of a parasite? basically he requires energy, of any kind really to continue moving and living and all that jazz. where he came from? nobody knows. he started coding because he needed an excuse to hang around computers (best way of consuming electric energy) and then he met his friends. Dream practically radiates energy, so it's very easy for George to just cling onto him. Dream needs to lose energy somewhere, otherwise he will explode (not literally. probably.) and so they have a symbiotic friendship!! (actually we have qpr dream team here so uh my rules)

Sapnap: He is a human, 100%. No fishy business here (other than the fact that his mom is best friends with a fire fae which may explain why he simply Does Not get burned.) He is human, but at birth was given a Gift by a fae, to make him immune to heat/heat damage irl. That's the only remotely supernatural thing about him. This is good news for him however since he lives in florida and both his friends run VERY warm (as in prolonged exposure could and would burn you if not Fae Blessed or spelled) so ideal hug person!!

Now I don't know enough about BBH and Skeppy and the like, since I don't watch them much, but feel free to make your own judgements! (personally i like the main 8 being supernatural and everyone else as confused humans but go off!)

BONUS BLADE:

He's a god conduit against his will (not like tommy and wilbur fuck knows what's going on with them now), specifically for a war god, which means he has to fill a murder quota! fun! Now this AU's technoblade is a pacificst and doesn't like irl muder. So he plays bedwars and things, fooling his god into thinking that it's real people with consequences. The god absolutely has figured this out, but techno's grown on the guy at this point so they let it slide.

#Eldritch! Streamers AU #answered asks

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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago

Text

Too Loose And You’ll Lose It

Ch 1- GI Joe and Army Barbie Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Summary: Following the Child Sex Trafficking job, The Losers all go their own way for a break before they are due back in Fairfax County. Stella is enjoying some quiet time with her mother.

And Jensen.

But noting is EVER quiet where he is involved.

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Jake Jensen x OFC Stella Stevenson.

TLAYLI Masterlist // Main Masterlist

May 2007

Stella and her mom sat in the kitchen of her childhood home in Manchester, New Hampshire. It was late morning one Friday morning, the day after she had returned home following debriefs at the CIA. It had been an emotional reunion, not having seen her mother for almost 8 months in person. They’d stayed up late with a bottle of wine before retiring to bed and after a lazy morning she had eaten a huge breakfast of pancakes, bacon and eggs, god knows how many rounds of toast and some decent coffee.

“Have you had enough to eat honey?” Her mom asked.

“Yup, honestly I’m stuffed, Ma. It feels good to be eating home cooked food for a change.” She smiled.

“Yeah, well, God only knows what you’ve been eating out there.” Julie mumbled as Stella smiled at her mom’s typical mother concern.

“He hasn’t changed then?” Julie grinned.

“Nope.”

“I bumped into his mom the other day at the supermarket.” Stella’s mom continued.

“Yeah? How is Janet?”

“Sounds good, have you seen them much at all recently?” Stella asked.

Stella laughed “I’ll make sure he knows how disgusted you are in him, don’t worry.”

“What are you doing?”

Stella sighed “Ma, don’t start…”

“You’re as stubborn as your father and look where that got him!”

“Wow.” Stella looked up, arching her eyebrow. “Nice. Good guilt trip.”

Julie rolled her eyes “For all the good that does. She only visits when she wants food or to complain about something.”

Jensen appeared in the doorway to the lounge, grinning “Oh, we’re you talking about me gorgeous?”

“No I was, and how you’ve been home on US soil for almost a year and not paid me one visit Jacob.” Julie glared at him, folding her arms.

“Oooh the full name. Am I in trouble?” Jensen grinned.

“Yes, you damned well are JJ.” Julie said, opening her arms “Now come here…”

Grinning Jensen stepped forward to give Stella’s mum a hug, pulling back with a yelp as she slapped him round the head.

“Shit, Jules!! What the hell was that for?”

“I told you! Your mother was telling me just the other day you’ve been back to Manchester now a few times and didn’t even think of paying me a visit?”

“Sorry Jules, been busy”

Julie narrowed her eyes “Busy doing what?”

“Well I know for a fact you aren’t” Jensen flashed her his trademark goofy smile and Stella slapped his arm.

“It does a job, I don’t care.” “Speaking of jobs…” Jensen looked towards the kitchen door, “How about you and me…”

“Jesus Jake!” Stella looked at him as he grinned “Here, whilst my mom is home? You have issues.”

“Didn’t bother you once upon a time…”

“I swear to god Jake, you’re a fucking nightmare.” Stella rubbed her temples “Why are you here?”

“Came to invite you to the Petunia’s game tomorrow. It’s been a while since we went out on a date babe.”

“A while?” Stella shook her head laughing. “Your concept of time measurement really amazes me.” Jake chuckled “So whaddya say?” he asked, giving her a goofy grin.

“Great, so now it’s turned into a double date.” She rolled her eyes.

“Why you being so grumpy Stel?” Jake frowned.

Stella sighed “Sorry Jakey…just..oh I dunno, I guess mom just pissed me off a bit that’s all. Bringing up my dad, suggesting I’m gonna go the same way he did.”

Jake pondered this for a moment before he took a deep breath. “You know she’s just worried about you that’s all.”

Stella smiled “I know…I know. Doesn’t help I can’t really tell her what I’m doing, other than running CIA tasked missions.”

“Now that’s actually quite a good idea.”

Jensen smiled and gently kissed her head. “It happens occasionally.”

Stella looked up at him “Guess it’s my lucky day then.”

“Well mine was like 9 years ago so guess I can say about time Stel.”