#i see a charger and my brain immediately goes to one of two things: Kill. or Dance.

[cfrog]

My sincerest apologies to the snipewriter i fucked with for like 10 games straight. In my defense: your team still decimated us every time

[ah-ga-seven]

Till’ The End Of Summer - Chapter 3

>> series masterlist <<

Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 5K

Genre: Angst, Fluff.

Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Yeji.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption sexual implications, arguing, and conflict.

A/N: English isn’t my first language, pls don’t come for me ;)

Mia wakes up from the movement of her boyfriend stirring in his sleep. His arm was wrapped around her waist protectively and her head, as well as her arm, rested on his chest.

She winced at the dull pain in her head and soon realised she didn’t remember much of what happened last night.

Mia tried to untangle herself from Soobin without waking him in the process, and as she did so she started to look for her phone, finding it in the charger on Soobin’s desk. She grabbed it, looking for clues on social media as to what happened last night. She looked at the Instagram stories of some people that were at the party, but nothing stood out to her.

She realised you hadn’t posted anything and frowned. That’s unlike you.

Something in her told her to check for Yeonjun’s story, but again. Nothing. Very unlike him too.

She sighed looking back at her boyfriend who was still sound asleep.  

“Something is off,” she whispers to herself.  

You wake up with heavy lids. Usually, the first thing you do is grab your phone. But this time you just stare at the ceiling.  

Last night was the most eventful night you’ve had since you started college and not in a good way.

It started out great, though it ended quite abruptly and well, terribly. 

You close your eyes again as your mind flashes back to what had happened right before you left.

“Y/n,” Soobin says cautiously. “I-” he starts but you don’t let him finish.

You tear your eyes off of Yeonjun and Yeji, who by now had detached themselves from each other as they giggled to themselves.. They hadn’t noticed any eyes on them yet, especially yours.

“I want to go home,” you say saddened, turning back around to Soobin. He still wasn’t able to tear his eyes off of Yeonjun and Yeji as he stared at them, fire emitting from his pupils.  

“Soobin,” you warn him. “Let’s get Mia and let’s go. Now. Please” you plead.

Soobin finally looked at you, his heart breaking into a million pieces seeing the way your face fell. If it wasn’t for your pleading tone to leave the party, Soobin would have probably launched himself at Yeonjun. 

This was exactly what he was afraid of, but not in a million years did he guess it would happen this way.  

“Ok, ok. Let’s go,” Soobin says taking your hand and leading you through the crowded house.

You left without saying a word to anyone else, avoiding as many people as you could.  

Mia was fast asleep in the back seat of the car, and you silently stared out of the window lost in deep thought.

Soobin didn’t bother to start talking to you about what happened, knowing it would be to no avail.

“Are you sure you want me to take you to your place? You live alone…I don’t think-”

“I want to be alone,” you say cutting him off, your voice weak and hoarse.  

Soobin nods at your request. He put his hand on your thigh to comfort you before making a left to drop you off at your place.

The buzzing of your phone snapped you back to reality, and when you see the caller ID you sigh, it’s Mia.

You want to tell her everything, but you don’t really know where to start. Somehow you feel thankful for the fact that she was shitfaced drunk last night, cause if she wasn’t, she would have killed Yeonjun.

You let your phone ring until it goes to voicemail, but much to your dismay, Mia calls again.

You knew she wasn’t going to stop until you picked up. So you accept her call at the third try.

“Hey,” you say, your voice still laced with sleep.

“Hey, are you okay? Where are you? I don’t remember anything from last night and I need you to fill me in. What happened? Did you and Yeonjun kiss? Or better yet? Did you fuck? Is he with you?”  

Mia’s questions are like a whirlwind to your scrambled thoughts and her words basically go in one ear and out the other. You wince at her mentioning Yeonjun, sighing and burying your face in your pillow wanting to scream.

When you stay quiet on the other end of the line she realises that something was up.

“Y/n?”  

You take a deep breath and tell her everything in one go. From the fight you had with Soobin, to the walk you had with Yeonjun, all the way to the MTV Cribs tour you had with Johnny. You explained further on how Beomgyu, Soobin, and Yeonjun barged in and how hostile and angry Yeonjun suddenly got.

Mia didn’t react much other than a few ‘What the fucks’ until you got to the part where Soobin basically made you cry as you reconciled,  now getting to the juiciest part of it all.

“And then I witnessed Yeonjun basically eating Yeji’s face in front of everyone.”  

“N-O,” Mia gasped. She couldn’t believe it. Anger filled her senses as she inhaled sharply.

“Dude. ‘I’m here. I’m at Soobin’s. He didn’t take me to my place, he took me to his place. That means that Yeonjun is next door. FUCK,” Mia whisper-screamed.  

You sit up, your eyes growing big. “Mia, I swear to god. Do. Not. And I mean, DO NOT say or do anything to Yeonjun,” you curse at yourself for not asking where Mia was before. You should have known Soobin would take her with him since he would want to take care of her.  

You nervously bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her to reply.  

“You want me to pretend like everything’s okay when you just told me all of that?” She scoffs. “I guess you don’t know who you’re talking to,” Mia says walking out of Soobin’s room.

None of the other boys had woken up yet, so the living room was empty. She looked at the door to Yeonjun’s bedroom, biting her lip while angrily glaring at it.

Mia walked further into the living room, sitting down on the couch, deciding against any rash decisions.

“Well, he’s here. I see his car keys on the coffee table,” Mia says staring at the keys as she clears her throat.

“Dude. Don’t do anything. Please, I’m begging you. I’ll look crazy desperate.”  

“I could go key his car,” she says lifting the keychain, playing with it in her hand.

“Mia,” you warn her.  

“Alright, alright. The two of you should resolve this together, like adults. We’re not in high school anymore and this endless pining for each others’ attention needs to stop,” she sighs putting the keys back on the coffee table.  

“Besides he probably just kissed Yeji because he thought that you replaced him with Johnny,” Mia states confidently.

“That sounds so juvenile,” you say kicking your sheets off of yourself and getting out of bed.

“What other reason could he have, y/n?” Mia sighs. “He’s like a little kid who’s never had a serious relationship. All he knows is meaningless sex. And given the fact that the only girl he actually liked in college basically blew him off for another rich and popular senior, probably just made him insecure.”

“The words Yeonjun and insecure don’t belong in one sentence,” you say rolling your eyes.

“It’s true though. He just wants to be loved, but he’s afraid of getting hurt. That why he doesn’t let anyone get close.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you give in.  

“No, I AM right. You should’ve just watched him play beer pong and fed his ego a little. He’s a Virgo, he wants the satisfaction and the attention of the person he likes. Yet you went ahead and ditched him for a house tour with another hot guy,” she chuckled at her own observation.

Mia and her god damn astrology references. You hated how right she was.

You also hated how clearly she judged the situation because lord knows you couldn’t. Suddenly you had so much more to think about.

You rub your temples in an attempt to release the tension building up in your brain.

“Well, I hope so. Cause the other explanation would be that he’s just not that into me as I thought he was,”  you groan.

Mia sighed throwing her head back on the couch but as she did so, she heard a bedroom door creak open. Mia’s ears perked up at the sound, snapping her head in the same direction as the noise.  

It was Yeonjun’s room, but the person exiting the room was not Yeonjun.

Mia’s eyes widen as she sees Yeji close the door behind her.  

“Mia?” you call out for her due to the long silence on the other end of the line. “Earth to Mia?”  

Mia manically tried to lower the volume on her phone so your voice couldn’t be heard by Yeji, but Yeji jumped at the sound of a voice, looking straight into Mia’s widened eyes. They both looked at each other like deer’s caught in headlights.  

Busted.  

“Mia! What…are you doing here. You scared me,” Yeji’s voice was barely audible but you heard it. And you knew exactly who that voice belonged to.

Does this mean what you think it means? You immediately put your volume up. Basically gluing your phone to your ear to hear what was going on a little better.

“My boyfriend lives here,” Mia stoically replies, earning an understanding nod from Yeji.  

She couldn’t believe this and neither did you.

“Ahh, right. Soobin.” Yeji says putting two and two together.  

“You were in Yeonjun’s room?” Is all Mia could ask. And as if she could sense it, she quickly put her phone on the armrest of the couch, hoping you could hear their voices clearer, and you did.  

“I-uh…well yeah, it kind of happened,” Yeji says awkwardly smiling at Mia.  

“Yes. Hate it when that happens.” Mia’s sudden cold tone confused Yeji, but she didn’t think much of it as she collected her coat and bag from the dinner table.  

“I was just about to head out…” she says walking towards the front door.

“Enjoy your walk of shame,” Mia says under her breath.  

To your relief, Yeji didn’t hear the snarky comment your best friend made. You did not want more drama to erupt. None of this is Yeji’s fault, though it would be easy to blame her, you knew that would be even more childish than Yeonjun’s behaviour. 

Yeji turned to look at Yeonjun’s bedroom door one more time before she opened the front door to their apartment. “Tell Yeonjun I had fun,” is all she says, and just like that she’s out the door.  

As the door closed behind Yeji, Mia frantically reaches for her phone again.

“Bitch. Did you hear that!?” She exclaims trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Y-yeah.” 

You’re frozen in place and literally couldn’t compute.

“Tell Yeonjun I had fun? What in the fuck. How about you tell him yourself, bum ass bitch,” Mia scoffs as she continues her rampage. “I take back everything I said about resolving things with Yeonjun as adults, not after this revelation. The fucking nerve this took from him. Why would he take her home? As if no one would find out-”  

“I’m gonna hang up,” you say before Mia could go on any further.

You had to admit, this hurt. Seeing them kiss was also painful but you could come back from a kiss that happened out of childish jealousy. This, however, was a different pang to your heart.  

“Y/n….” Mia’s tone softened as she heard the weak sound of your voice.  She knew you were upset, and she hated that she couldn’t give you a hug right now.  

You hang up. Deciding that a hot shower is the only thing that will make you feel better.  

Mia silently made her way back to Soobin’s room. To her surprise he was already awake, scrolling through his Instagram feed.

“Good morning baby,” he hums with his low raspy morning voice, smiling at her as he sees her messy bed hair and grumpy hang-over face.  

“Hi,” she sighs. “Thank you for taking care of me,” Mia says apologetically as she climbs on top of him, sitting down on his torso.

“You don’t have to thank me for things I’m supposed to do,” he says yawning.  

“Oh, by the way…” Mia smirks seductively, inching closer to Soobin. “What?” Soobin looks at his girlfriend with expecting eyes, pouting his lips for a kiss but instead of a kiss, he gets surprised with a hard slap across his chest.

“AH, What the fuck was that for!?” Soobin whines, rubbing the affected area with his large hand.

“That’s for fighting with y/n and making her cry,” she says crossing her arms.

“So…you talked to her,” Soobin sighs. He untangled himself from Mia, getting up and stretching his body. “I should call her,” he says rubbing the back of his head.

“I already did and she told me everything. But here’s the thing. As I was on the phone with her in the living room, Yeji suddenly emerged out of Yeonjun’s room.” Mia explains in a hushed tone, afraid that the walls suddenly became thinner and Yeonjun could hear them speak.

Soobin’s mouth fell agape. “What!?” He exclaims in a whisper.

Mia just nodded at her boyfriends’ shocked expression. Soobin clenched his fist as his face contorts from shock to anger in a matter of milliseconds.  

“I dare him to breathe near y/n again, I swear to god,” Soobin says through his teeth.

You had gotten out of your way too long shower, hair wet, dressed in nothing but your underwear and an oversized t-shirt which ended just below your butt.

You mindlessly do your whole skincare routine but you jump when your phone starts to buzz. You reach for it, eyes widening as you see who just texted you.

[Yeonjun 12:43 PM]: Hey.

[Yeonjun 12:43 PM]: Do you still have my jacket?  

You stare at your phone, but it’s like your brain doesn’t want to comprehend that this is what he starts the conversation with. Maybe he needed an excuse to come and see you? Or maybe... you were just getting ahead of yourself and the dude just wanted his expensive Versace jacket back.  

Which you understand.  

[Y/N 12:45 PM]: Hi, yes I have it, sorry.

[Yeonjun 12:45 PM]: Can I come pick it up? You left without saying goodbye.

You scoff at his unbelievable reply and you hate acting impulsively, but you can’t seem to stop yourself from typing.

[Y/N 12:46 PM]: You seemed a little occupied, so :)  

[Yeonjun 12:46 PM]: Huh?

[Y/N 12:46 PM]: I’ll be home for another hour if you want to pick it up before I leave, be my guest.

[Yeonjun 12:47 PM]: Ok…

[Yeonjun 12:47 PM]: Are you mad at me or something?  

You roll your eyes at his observation. This motherfucker is either dense as fuck or he’s just pretending to be dumb. It’s like he couldn’t put two and two together.

You didn’t reply back to him and didn’t really expect him to show up either. Half an hour later you were seated on your couch, watching an anime while eating some instant noodles when you heard a knock on your door.

Shit. For real?  

You get up in a hurry, quickly chewing down the noodles that were still in your mouth and retrieved Yeonjun’s jacket from your dresser.  

You take a deep breath before you open the door, and there he is. Choi Yeonjun, as handsome as ever.

He looked like he never even partied the night before as if he got a full 8 hours worth of beauty sleep. He was dressed in an oversized black shirt with his Adidas joggers, accompanied by his usual chains, rings, and earrings that he never seemed to take off.

His eyes widened when he saw you, dressed in nothing but a large t-shirt while your hair was still damp from the shower you took. Right, you forgot to put pants on but you honestly didn’t mind taunting him a little.  

“Here you go,” you say try not to stare at him for too long as you hand him his jacket.

Yeonjun retrieved it from you without a word, still looking at you with wide eyes. His feet were frozen to the hard wooden floor beneath him.

“Was that all?” you ask crossing your arms as you lean on your doorpost.

You tried your hardest to sound unbothered and it was working. You got Yeonjun flustered and confused. His least favourite emotions.

“I-eh…I guess?” Yeonjun says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Ok, have a great day,” you say closing the door, at least that was your plan but Yeonjun put his foot between the door; stopping it from closing on him. You’re shocked at his reflexes and so was he judging by the look on his face.

“Wait,” he says opening the door again. “That’s it?” He asked, looking at you with his confused puppy eyes.

You give him the same look of confusion. “What do you mean, you came to get your coat. Did you need anything else?”

“So you are angry at me?”  

You can’t help but roll your eyes, breaking character and he notices. 

“Why?” He asks biting the inside of his cheek.

 It’s one of his habits. He does that when he’s trying to understand something, or when he’s nervous. You couldn’t tell which one it could be this time and honestly, you didn’t give a shit. 

“Listen, if you truly can’t figure that out yourself then that says enough.”  

And just like that, it’s like an epiphany happened inside of his brain. His calm and collected demeanor disappeared as he scratches the back of his head.

“You saw me with Yeji.”  

You stay silent, ready to close the door again but he forces it open, walking inside of your apartment.

“I didn’t realise I invited you in?” you say looking at him in disbelief as you close the door behind you.

He nervously paced back and forth. “Is that why you left? Cause you saw me with her?”  

You still don’t answer him, which annoyed him. “Talk to me,” he says putting his jacket down on your nearest piece of furniture while taking a step closer to you. 

“You should’ve talked to me first, but you ran. Like a coward.” 

Your voice was laced with venom as you took a step back, away from him.

He didn’t know why, but you calling him a coward hurt more than he would like to admit. He scoffed, taking another step towards you.

“Cut the bullshit y/n. You’re the one who played me. I thought we were getting along just fine but I turn around for two whole seconds and you leave with some other dude.”  

“Johnny is nothing more than a friend.”

“Does he know that?”

“YES!” you yell at him. You’re frustrated at your sudden outburst but you couldn’t take it anymore.  

Your anger startled Yeonjun and he took a step back giving you some space. 

His eyes were still looking for more answers in yours. He opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it.

“You don’t get to put this on me when you wouldn’t even listen to what I had to say. Instead, you run off and have sex with Yeji out of spite? Cause you were jealous of Johnny? Real mature, Choi.”

“Wait, how do you know th-”

“I want you to leave,” you interrupt him, opening the door for him once again.

“Y/n...”

“No,” you sigh closing your eyes. “Leave.”  

Yeonjun sighs in defeat. Picking up his jacket once again, walking to your front door, stopping just inches away from you. “For what it’s worth…I’m sorry,” he said giving you one last look.

“Don’t let the door hit you on the way out,” you say, your tone bitchier than you expected. 

He didn’t reply, and you didn’t dare to look him in his eyes either, knowing that those dark orbs would pull you back under his spell again. 

You close the door behind him and lean your forehead against it, emotionally exhausted from the whole situation. But you had a feeling it was nowhere near over yet.

A few days went by like nothing had ever happened. You distracted yourself by organising your entire closet and cleaning out your cabinets.  

You cleaned your whole apartment hoping it would clear out your mind as well but Yeonjun was still a prominent figure that captivated your thoughts. You swore you wouldn’t open his Instagram stories or Snapchat’s, but you used Mia’s account to do so anyway.  

He was his usual self, he had fun and showed it off. You only see the good parts of Choi Yeonjun on social media, so you weren’t surprised. He wasn’t the type to post sad-girl quotes in his stories or subtweet to get attention, making it even harder to figure out what was really going on in his head. He just shows us what he wants us to see anyway. 

You couldn’t believe the fact that you fell under his spell even though everyone around you seemed to warn you about him. You just had to get yourself hurt, once again.  

You were more mad at yourself than you were mad at him, to be honest, but for some reason, his pleading tone accompanied with the desperate look in his eyes from that day kept swirling around in your thoughts.  

For the next couple of days, you focused on yourself and your mental health.

You decided to be anti-social even though your friends invited you to go do stuff. You just wanted to binge on your favourite shows and unwind from the hectic deadline filled semester that you had.

Apart from Soobin and Hueningkai visiting you to check if you were still alive, you hadn’t seen anyone else yet since that night. However, tonight there was a campus festival/bonfire for the new freshman who were coming in after summer as an introduction and orientation day and you and Mia volunteered a few months back for extra credit.

Everyone and you mean EVERYONE at the school that had somewhat of a social status was going to be there since it’s the last official event before the summer break officially started. Meaning that you would certainly see Yeonjun again.

“I can’t believe you got me to do this,” Mia sighed as she clips her name tag on to her hoodie a little too crooked to your liking.

You chuckle and fix it for her. “Also, you ghosted on us after the party. Did something else happen?” You bite your lip and shake your head. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

You didn’t want to hide stuff from her, but if Mia knows, Soobin knows. And you weren’t ready for that. Especially when you were still organising your thoughts on the situation.

The rest of the day went by pretty fast. You ran around with your checklists and made sure everything was ready and set for the festival to start with some other student board members. Mia, on the other hand, was in charge of giving groups of students full tours of the campus, which meant that you were separated for most of the day.

When the clock strikes 8 PM, the festival starts, and more and more people start to come in aside from the future freshman that were already there.

You stand at the sideline, checking off the last task on your to-do list and sigh in relief.  

Technically you are a supervisor for the night. So you couldn’t enjoy the party. 

Also, some of your teachers were there as well. Which meant that you couldn’t misbehave even if you wanted to.  

Your phone buzzes and you check your messages.

[Soobin 8.04 PM]: Hiiii, I’m here. Where are you?

[Y/N 8:04 PM]: Near the entrance, to the left. I’m wearing our obnoxious purple campus hoodie, shouldn’t be hard to find me.

[Soobin 8.04 PM]: I see youuuu, don’t move.

You chuckle and search for your friend. It didn’t take long before you spot him since he was built like a skyscraper. You watch him bulldoze his way through the crowd to greet you and laugh as he almost trips over his own legs as he approaches.  

“Hey girl, heyyy,” Soobin says enveloping you in a hug. He was followed by Taehyun and Beomgyu. Who also hugged you and said their hello’s.

“Are you already drunk?” You ask Soobin as you make him look at you by tugging at his chin.

“We tried to stop him but it was of no use,” Beomgyu chuckled.  

“Let him live a little,” Taehyun interferes. “Our captain has worked so hard all year.”  

“Just…look after him since Mia and I won’t be able to. We have to work tonight,” you pout.

“That sucks. We missed you at game night yesterday and now you’re telling me that you don’t get to party with us at all tonight?” Taehyun pouts back at you. And you simply nod at him with a sad facial expression to match his.  

You were wondering if Soobin told them about what happened that night at the party. Soobin is a horrible liar and you knew he wouldn’t lie as to why you didn’t make it to game night. But you didn’t want to ask.

“Where’s Hueningkai?” you ask looking around for him. “Or did you kill him at game night for cheating in that fruit card game you guys play?” You joke, earning chuckles from the boys.

“He’s with Yeonjun hyung and a few others from the team. They had dinner somewhere before they came here. We came straight from the dorm” Beomgyu explains, as he was texting someone on his phone.  

They definitely knew something was up. Taehyun is smart and quick-witted, so you were sure he knew too. Especially since his eyes grew in size a little after he heard Yeonjun’s name.  

Beomgyu however, was too busy with his phone to care. You decide to pry and look over his shoulder. “You’re talking to Ryujin again?” you say smirking as you read her name and Beomgyu immediately hides his phone from you. “Maybe,” he pretended to be annoyed but he couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sound of her name.

Soobin sighed, clearly unamused. “Where’s Mia?” He asked sitting down at the bleachers behind him.  

“She should be on her way back from her last campus tour,” you say looking around you, hoping you would see her and that’s when you spot him.

Yeonjun.

He walked in with his confident stride, surrounded by other attractive guys from the team, including Hueningkai.  

You could see the future freshman girls freak out a little as they entered. And you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.  

He ate it up, lost in his own bubble. No one could touch him, that’s how unreachable he made himself seem.

But you knew better. Your mind flashing back to his desperate eyes, trying to find answers in yours when he stepped foot in your apartment, and his desperate eyes when you kicked him out.  

You averted your gaze from them quickly, but not before Yeonjun’s eyes found yours.  

Shit.  

You sigh and pick up your schedule. “Guys, I’m sad to say this, but I have to leave. I have bar duty.”  

Soobin’s ears perked up at the word ‘bar’ and he looked at you, his eyes disappearing into crescent moons as he gave you a coy smile. “Does that mean you’ll give us free drinks?”  

“The opposite,” you say sticking out your tongue at him. He just glares at you in return and you laugh at his childlike antics.

“Gotta go, when I’m free, I’ll join you guys, and please keep an eye on him,” you tell Tae and Beomgyu as you run off.

“Will do sis,” Taehyun yells after you.

You arrive at the bar stand and see Mia already overwhelmed and panicked. Trying to keep up with the number of people in line. She spots you and sighs in relief.

“Thank god! Where were you? I can’t handle this alone,” she says throwing an apron your way.  You swiftly caught it and tie it around your waist.

“Sorry, I ran into Soobin, Tae, and Gyu. Soobin is already drunk by the way,” you say as you start pouring drinks in cups, organising them so they could be handed out immediately.

Mia rolled her eyes. “Of course he is,” she chuckles shaking her head.

“Did you see Yeonjun yet?” Mia asks carefully as she leans against the bar, staring at you intently.

“Yes, he was with Hyuka and some other guys from the team.”

“He didn’t try to talk to you at all since the party?” Mia asks confused.

And just as you opened your mouth to answer her question, you were interrupted.

“I’ll take two beers, and your phone number.”  

A familiar voice made your ears perk up, and you turn around. You spot the tall brunette and give him a wholehearted smile.

“Johnny!” You exclaim enthusiastically, giving him a clumsy hug over the counter.

“You and your endless flirting,” you joke as you hand over the beers to him.  

He gave you a beaming smile, taking a sip of his drink as he hands you the money in return. “I mean, you pretty much left without saying goodbye. And since I didn’t have your number I couldn’t contact you,” he points his finger at you accusingly, and you giggle.

Mia was behind you, busting her ass trying to serve the alcohol deprived students but that didn’t stop her from keeping an eye on you and Johnny.  

She noticed how your face lit up, and she also noticed how Johnny leaned closer to you over the counter. And then…her eyes landed on an equally tall figure, standing behind Johnny.

“Are you gonna take much longer bro? I’m trying to get drunk tonight.”  

You freeze in place, feeling like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do.  

It was Yeonjun. He looked at you with his intense gaze. And all you could do was stare back at him in shock. 

A different type of tension filled the air. Your eyes darting from one to the other in panic. 

He glared at Johnny through half-lidded eyes, impatiently tapping his feet. “I’m in desperate need of some vodka,” Yeonjun states, giving Johnny a sarcastic smile, who by now had turned around to meet his eyes.

“So am I,” you say to yourself, preparing for the worst.

Chapter 4.

[voidwaren]

[READ MORE] STORY 3/?

happy Valentine’s, guys! here’s a part 3/[READ MORE] story I whipped up for the occasion that is not technically finished, but is finished enough to share until I rework it for the eventual AO3 publishing.

(note: it’s more hectic shenanigans than romantic anything, though, so be forewarned. this isn’t fluff! though... if you’re used to my shit, you probably already knew it wouldn’t be.)

enjoy!

It starts as it usually does—with Warren waking up.

Waking up from a heavy sort of nap, specifically, that he’d taken somewhere around when the clock had ticked over into four in the morning and Nathan had left the room for a piss break that Warren knew, even with his wits slowly fading away into sleep, also meant he was going to smoke something Warren would complain about later. Warren had promptly passed out before Nathan had returned, lulled into oblivion from the comfort of the couch by the gentle whirring of Nathan’s movie projector, the snarling face of one Dracula frozen on the wall in all its glory.

He wakes up still on that couch, possibly in the same position he’d passed out in, with a blanket that belonged to either him or Nathan draped over his torso and a pillow shoved haphazardly into the space where his head might have been had he not already had it pressed deeply into the crevice of the cushions like a sorely confused ostrich in a thunderstorm by the time Nathan came to the rescue with sleep essentials.

None of that is particularly out of the norm for Warren to think much of anything about any of it, so he doesn’t as he stretches his appendages out and slowly works the feeling back into his virtually-dead arm. Not until a photo catches his eye from where it sits on the table, surrounded by an arrangement of paper roses Warren knows, thanks to some insightful mentoring from his newest therapist, Nathan had learned how to make, amongst other, slightly more distasteful things.

(You’d be surprised what kind of origami tutorials you can find on the internet. Warren fell down that rabbit hole each and every time Nathan resorted back to tearing the paper to shreds instead of folding it, bored with whatever project he’d focused on and unwilling to bother, at least in that moment, to look for a new one.)

The photo is new in both presence and existence. Warren knows it hadn’t been there before, because the table had been littered with snacks and folders when Warren had fallen asleep, and neither of those things were within eyesight now. He thinks briefly of letting it be, because he wasn’t sure what the point of it was and he wasn’t one to mess with other people’s things, but then he remembers all the times Nathan has gone through his stuff and decides, fuck it, fair is fair. You can’t put candy in front of a toddler and then expect them to live and let live.

Warren picks the photo up, and then he starts to laugh.

It’s a polaroid photo, which immediately tells him Max was somehow involved—as she usually tended to be nowadays, much to both Warren’s and Chloe’s chagrin, thanks to a shared class she had with Nathan and a natural ease between them that came when no strife presented itself, which Warren had not foreseen in any potential future—of Warren’s action figures of the Eleventh Doctor (Christmas Adventure Set) and The Flash (JLA Series 1), tangled in some semblance of an embrace that would have done the famous V-Day Kiss photo proud.

(Well, maybe. The Flash’s hand was clearly situated somewhere around The Doctor’s plastic ass, and Warren was about eighty-five-percent sure the original photo had no such groping, but it was the thought that counted, right?)

Warren flips the photo over, and written on the back in bright, scratchy red sharpie are the words, Nerdy enough for you to be my Valentine? 

And Warren’s throat goes completely dry in response. His stomach does a familiar plummet straight to the heels of his feet, but, for once, it’s not out of fear for a future he couldn’t control.

Nathan was not romantic. At least, not in the traditional sense, and the reasons behind that were ones Warren had, admittedly, been too afraid to traverse after learning of some of the things Nathan had gone through growing up. Warren was okay with that, because he’d yet to regain the concise ability to try at being very romantic himself, and he was sure that, by the time he even got a little of a handle back on his wooing skills, he wouldn’t even feel the need to use them on someone like Nathan, who never did things like this.

Well, you know. Until now.

Nathan was not a romantic, and Warren didn’t have the intuition to see past that. And now Warren had nothing to give Nathan in return.

Okay, yeah, Nathan probably wouldn’t actually care if Warren had nothing to give, but Warren would care, and that bothered him enough that he ripped the blanket off his legs and tumbled from the warm embrace of the couch to launch bodily at his charging phone. He both nearly knocks over a haphazardly-placed camera and almost rips the charger from the wall socket once he gets there, but he barely notices as he decides the fact his phone is upside down is the more dire issue at hand. He knows of only one person so good on her feet that she was as reliable a companion as he could ask for in such a sudden and grave situation, and her number is pulled up almost without him having to think about the action.

He jams his finger against the screen and calls Chloe immediately.

“Warren?” Chloe asks instead of some other typical greeting. She sounds alarmed. Probably because Warren never calls her. They have a purely text-based mobile relationship, and deviating from the norm was a label for potential disaster. He curses himself for not thinking of what his action would look like after everything that they’d been through. He knows he should know better.

“I’m the only one having a crisis,” he explains quickly, just so Chloe can relax.

She does so immediately, as is evident in her tone. “You have an oral obsession with a Prescott,” she teases, “of course you’re having a crisis.”

“It’s not just oral,” Warren grumbles, then shakes his head sharply, because that was not the point of this call, dammit. “Don’t distract me! I’m having a crisis and I need you to help me find something for Valentine's Day.”

The line goes silent. Warren can’t tell if Chloe’s shocked, holding in enough laughter to potentially kill her, or some combination of the two. He knows the line didn’t go dead. He can hear the faint static hum of it still being open. 

It lasts for nearly thirty seconds, and then, “Today is Valentine’s Day.”

“I know.”

“You didn’t get anything for him on Valentine’s Day? How did you not get him something, like, three months ago? You're the sap of the group. It’s basically your prerogative.”

Warren winces. “I didn’t think we were that kind of couple.”

Chloe snorts one hell of a snort. It could top charts, Warren thinks, if such a thing existed. “Not that kind of couple? The shit does that mean? What kind of couple could you actually be? You got together over a mistake in the space-time continuum. Who does that?”

“Er, probably some forms of romcom couples in movies?”

“Are you saying you’re living a romcom, Cracker?”

No, Warren thinks without hesitating. No, he is not. Because there had been far too much terror and trauma involved with his journey for anyone to be laughing.

“Just help me Chloe,” Warren begs. “Please. I’ll owe you if you help me.”

Chloe hums, but it’s in that way that she does when she’s not actually considering Warren’s offer because she’s already made a decision. “Fine,” she says after barely a moment of the supposed consideration. “But if you make me late for my date, it’s your skin on the line.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

-

Warren sneaks off of the Blackwell campus and meets Chloe at the edge of the block, where she pulls up in her truck with a particularly smarmy smirk on her face. Warren has no idea where Max is—or Nathan himself, for that matter—but he’s not about to start questioning it when he didn’t want to run into either just yet.

“I can’t believe I’m helping Nathan Prescott’s boyfriend get him a Valentine’s Day gift,” Chloe says good-naturedly, if a little awed, as Warren clambers into the seat. Her nose scrunches up. “Actually, I can’t believe Nathan Prescott has a boyfriend. What’s the world coming to?”

“Armageddon, obviously,” Warren grumbles, then smacks his hands against the dash nervously when Chloe pulls from the curb with enough gas to rival Nathan’s hasty driving tactics.

Chloe leans over and swats at his hands to make him stop. “You know what you’re getting him?”

Warren cradles his assaulted hands against his chest and looks over at her. “Was that a question or are you about to tell me what I’m getting him?”

“What makes you think I have any idea what to get a worm like Prescott for Valentine’s Day?”

A fair point, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try. 

“What do you get someone who has the money to buy the entire town?”

Chloe hums thoughtfully. The familiar stores of the road past the Academy pass them by, and Warren wracks his brain with little to show for it by the time Chloe says, “Why don’t you just snap him some nudes and call it a day?”

Warren nearly chokes on his spit with how fast he inhales, and Chloe starts to cackle. “I am not taking nudes for him, Jesus Christ,” he croaks, trying his best not to blush at the idea and failing spectacularly, if Chloe’s continued mirth when she glances at him is anything to go by.

“I was only half-kidding,” Chloe says from beneath her laughter, and Warren knows it’s a lie. She wasn’t kidding at all, and she’d probably been hoping he’d agree so she could get off scot-free.

“I’m not even technically legal. I don’t know if he’d appreciate it.”

“Oh, he’d appreciate it,” Chloe muses nearly to herself as she turns sharply into a parking lot. Warren graciously ignores that comment as he watches her wrench her gear shift into park and twist in her seat until she faces him. “Are we actually about to go into this blind?”

“Do you have a better plan?”

She purses her lips, then reaches over and unbuckles his seatbelt. She’s not wearing one, or Warren might return the strange favor. Then she smacks Warren on the arm like she’s about to send him off into the fray of an important sports game and then snaps the handle of her door to unlatch it. “Let’s rock and roll, bitcharoo.”

She’s out of the car before Warren can tell her he liked that line more than he thinks he should, and Warren scrambles to catch up with her long, purposeful strides as she makes her way into the Rite Aid like there was a zombie apocalypse brewing behind her and this was her last chance to get the goods before they all surrendered to the oncoming doom.

They’re met immediately with a pink and red smorgasbord of garishly decorated aisles bathed in the sterile white light all drugstores seemed to love to use, peppered sparingly with wilting bouquets, sagging balloons, and the forlorn figure of one Hayden Jones.

“Aw, shit,” Chloe has the chance to say just as Hayden lifts his head and spots them both, and then his face splits into a grin.

“Graham, Price!” he greets cheerily, immediately closing the distance between them.

“How does he know my name?” Chloe whispers, but doesn’t get any semblance of a response as Hayden throws his arms around Warren and picks him up like they hadn’t seen each other in months instead of the maybe-fifteen hours that had actually passed since their last face-to-face interaction, wherein Nathan had thrown the cap of a camera lens at Hayden to get his attention in the hallway of the dorms and missed and nearly beamed Warren instead just as he was coming out of the bathrooms. Thankfully, Nathan’s aim was either terrible or fantastic, and it had struck the wall just over Hayden’s shoulder and right next to Warren’s ear instead. That interaction had ended with Hayden laughing and punching Warren in the shoulder like some sort of teammate that had made a good play. Having taken place, again, maybe not even fifteen hours ago, Warren still had the bruise to show the interaction.

But Hayden was Hayden, and snatch Warren up he did. Warren was never sure what incited the action, because he’d never seen Hayden do it with anyone else. But, hey. At least he wasn’t beating Warren up.

Warren, pretty much used to this kind of thing from Hayden at this point, just holds on until Hayden lets him go again. He keeps his hands on Warren’s shoulders even as he pulls away, looking at Chloe with interest. “What are you two doing here? Where’s Max?”

“How come you call Max by her first name?” Chloe then asks, but is quickly followed by Warren waving his hands in the air and saying, “We’re just here for Valentine’s stuff. Why are you here?”

“Same thing! Thought maybe the candy would be on sale, and it’s good shit to stock up on for parties.”

“Oh,” Warren says, surprised, because that actually was a decent idea. “Cool, okay. Which way to the aisle?”

Warren starts to crane his neck, but Hayden’s face falls. “You’re standing in it.”

“Well, fuck,” says Chloe helpfully as the startlingly bare shelves become the elephant in the room. “There’s nothing here.”

“We’re a little late,” Hayden agrees.

“Little late? This place looks like Walmart after Black Friday.”

Warren pries Hayden’s distracted hands off, then stalks down the short aisle as Hayden and Chloe converse about the relative emptiness of the area and what other places might be like if the Rite Aid was as ransacked as it ended up being. Aside from a few sad bags of chocolate slumped against the far niches of the shelves, there was absolutely, and annoyingly, jack shit all left.

Great.

“What am I going to do?” Warren moans, threading his fingers into his hair and yanking dramatically. “Why didn’t I think we were this kind of couple?”

“What kind of couple?” Warren hears Hayden whisper-ask Chloe. Before she can answer, if she was even going to, he tacks on, “Oh, this is for Nate?”

“You got another boyfriend you didn’t tell me about, Cracker?” Chloe calls, just to be a dick, and Warren whips around and glares at her. To his credit, Hayden gives him a sheepish smile, knowing full well that one was his fault.

“I’m so screwed,” Warren continues, slumping his way back up the aisle and past Chloe and Hayden, who follow like drones directly behind him. The bell rings as they exit, and that’s when Warren offhandedly realizes no one had been at the register while they’d been in there. It must have been a blood bath, whatever had happened to make the shelves that way.

“Uh, no, you’re not, because that would be a good outcome,” corrects Chloe, smacking Warren on the back. Warren tries not to be upset about all the physical affection he was the receiver of nowadays. “The whole point of the holiday is to get fucked, duh.”

Warren shakes his head violently, only stumbling a little when the action grants him unsteady footing. 

“You are not helping, Chloe,” he warns her as Hayden’s hand is suddenly on his arm and steadying him to keep him from falling. Chloe only returns the statement with her patented shit-eating grin to show she’s fully aware of the fact.

“You were going to get him something themed for the holiday?” Hayden asks when they reach Chloe’s truck, eyeing the thing up like he’s not sure what to do about it. Warren nods solemnly. Hayden waits a beat, and then asks, “Why?”

And Warren just blinks at him. Because, yeah, wait a minute. Why was he getting Nathan Prescott something Valentine’s Day-themed on Valentine’s Day? He wasn’t some lovestruck teenage kid praying their boyfriend would drop them a special candy gram (no pun intended) while they were in class or anything, he was Nathan fucking Prescott. Pink candy and hearts and falsified niceties were basically his antithesis, and that was pretty much proven with what Nathan gave Warren. There was hardly anything romantic about the simple gift—it had literally been nothing but something Nathan had known Warren would love. Why the hell wasn’t Warren doing the same?

Jesus, and who here was Nathan’s boyfriend again? Because, right now, it’s kind of looking like Hayden.

“Hayden, I could kiss you,” Warren tells him in awe.

“Oh, uh,” Hayden stutters, apparently caught off-guard by the declaration, as Warren scrambles back into the truck. 

If he was going to say anything more, it’s cut off by Chloe frowning at Warren and blurting, “Are we bringing the lug?”

Blunt to a fault, that Chloe. It was almost an art form.

Hayden’s face immediately scrunches up.

“You wanna join us, Hayden?” Warren asks, just to make the look go away, because Hayden was a nice guy, and Warren found himself strangely uncomfortable with Chloe being her usual barbed self with him.

Hesitating, Hayden looks from Warren, to Chloe, to the truck, and then back at Warren again. He shrugs, “Sure, yeah. Got nothing else to do.”

“Get that ass in gear, then, boy,” Chloe says, ushering Hayden in through the driver’s side before jumping in herself, and back onto the road they go.

-

If Hayden was supposed to help at all past what he’d initially helped with, though, that doesn’t happen. He only sits between Chloe and Warren as Warren lobs ideas at the both of them and Chloe comes up with various reasons as to why each idea is lame, laughing occasionally and being a general deadweight between them. Warren hadn’t exactly expected much more from him, sure, but he would be lying if he said the sudden radio silence wasn’t a little unsettling. 

Thankfully, Hayden perks up once they reach their destinations, even if he still doesn’t offer much by ways of help. He instead meanders around the different, useless shops, offering commentary on things Nathan would definitely not like, and he and Chloe make a game of deciding what Nathan would hate the most.

“Definitely these,” Hayden says in one drugstore on the outskirts of the town, a last-minute-ditch attempt that proves just as useless as the first two, as he holds up a pair of rainbow socks for Chloe to bear witness to. Chloe laughs maniacally and pulls something distinctly X-rated off another shelf to present to Hayden, and they both cackle and banter and generally make Warren’s search harder by attracting attention he didn’t want. He has to wave off store clerks hoping to hurry along or kick them out too many times to count.

They go to three different stores, all full of things that were so far from what Nathan Prescott stood for that, by the time they’re almost back to the academy, Warren’s two steps from throwing himself out of the truck just to both distract him from the task at hand and to be a little dramatic, because that’s just what he was feeling right then.

“Forty-five minutes more and then I’m dropping your asses,” Chloe warns as they pull into what is apparently their final stop before they lose their quick transportation and will be stuck with everyone’s least favorite method of movement: Warren’s poor excuse for a car. “I have places to be and acting as Cupid’s chauffeur is not my day job.”

It’s a relatively small store they’ve arrived at as their last-ditch effort before Chloe called it quits, somewhere past where the gas station and the diner sat, that mostly sold things for tourists to enjoy after visiting the bay for what was usually either whales or something regarding Blackwell. Warren had less of a clue how the hell he was going to find something here than anywhere else, but they were running out of places to go, and there was enough of a mishmash of things housed within that Warren hoped, maybe, something would come to light.

It’s so small that, the moment they step into it, Warren realizes yet again that he recognizes another set of patrons, and that Arcadia Bay was too damn small for its own good.

“Trevor? Dana?” Warren half-greets in surprise when the two figures look up from where they’re paying at the register.

“Graham?” Trevor greets back in the same moment Dana lights up and says, “Warren!”

“And Chloe,” Chloe mumbles from next to Warren, and Warren catches Hayden cocking his head at her in confusion.

“What are you guys doing here?” Warren asks, ignoring them both.

“We’re on a date,” Dana says, smacking her open palm against the curve of Trevor’s shoulder. 

Trevor gives his Trevor smile. Which is to say, a smile that is a little crooked, very warm, and mostly directed at Dana herself, regardless of who he was actually talking to. He holds up the bag he’d just purchased. “They’ve got old vinyls and other things here, sometimes we get one and chill out with it.”

“Like a retro section?” Hayden asks, throwing Warren a look, but Warren’s already caught on. Old movies were basically his and Nathan’s thing.

Dana, too, seems to catch on immediately, even though there’s no possible way she could have had any previous information regarding Warren’s problem beforehand. She walks over, reaches out, and curls her arm into Warren’s. “Over this way,” she tells him as she guides him through the store to a small nook in the back. Set just in front of them is a single, long table covered in crates with vinyls stacked inside, and along the walls are shelves of box sets of varying degrees of media, from anime to sitcoms to shows Warren’s somehow never heard of. It reminds Warren of the FYE in the big mall way farther inland than Warren usually ever had time to bother with.

Warren can swear angels start singing in his ears the moment his eyes land on the glorious display, and they sound suspiciously like Dana herself.

Oh, wait. No. Dana’s just talking to him. Warren tunes back in.

“Might I suggest something over here?” she tells him as if she’s selling him something extremely expensive and obnoxiously sparkly, pulling her arm away to gesture at a small specific section with a flourish. It’s a part of the display that’s sectioned-off by a string of paper hearts, and it holds within a variety of box sets, all with an obvious romantic theme to them. Dana’s got a twinkle in her eye as she picks up, specifically, a black and white box that says Worst Romantic Movies of the Ages in looping white script.

It’s so perfect, Warren is stunned where he stands by the mere idea of its existence. He has to take a moment to reboot, and Dana snorts a laugh while the other party members, who had been left to their own devices, trickle onto the scene.

“That’s the bitch,” Chloe says immediately, grinning and snapping the fingers of both her hands into a finger gun, and Warren blinks as if coming out of a trance.

He lunges at Dana, bypassing the box set completely, and wraps her up in a hug. She laughs and hugs him back, and not even a beat later another set of arms are around him, and then another, and Warren can feel the corner of the box set digging painfully into the small of his back as he becomes enveloped in an entity of friends.

“I ain’t hugging you guys,” Chloe says, and Warren starts to laugh a laugh that almost edges on crying from how surprisingly relieved he is over something he knows doesn’t actually matter.

No—didn’t matter to Nathan. Nathan wouldn’t have cared, that much Warren knows. But it mattered to Warren, getting something for Nathan in return for staying with him all the times he thought he was losing his mind even after it all had been done, and he realizes, as everyone peels away and looks over the box set like it was worth infinitely more than the price tag stated, that he should have known better instead of waiting until it was almost too late.

“I can’t believe you found this,” Hayden offers as Warren gathers himself. He rolls the set between his hands, peering at it with an excited look on his face. “I didn’t even think of something like this. It’s great.”

Warren nods his head, maybe a little too enthusiastically, then turns to Dana, where she’s standing with an arm around Trevor, watching. “Thanks, Dana, holy shit,” he tells her earnestly.

She and Trevor both beam. “Anytime, Warren,” she says, and Trevor punctuates her statement with a nod and a wink.

“Might not be the most romantic thing ever,” Hayden says, clapping a hand on Warren’s shoulder proudly, “but Nathan will love it.”

Chloe reaches out, peels one of the paper hearts off the display, and slaps it on the box set. “There. Romantic as fuck. Now let’s ditch this joint before I miss my Valentine’s Day shindig.”

-

Finding Nathan turns out to be a relatively easy ordeal. He’s in Warren’s room when Warren checks, sitting at his desk and going over a file spilling photos all along its surface, a few rejected options tossed away to sit haphazardly on Warren’s bed.

He looks up when Warren enters and only has a moment to look relatively unperturbed before his eyes narrow into suspicion when Warren’s hand immediately darts behind his back.

“Where have you been all day?” Nathan asks him slowly, highly suspicious, after he’s taken a moment to just stare at Warren and wait to see if it alone would make Warren cave.

Warren hesitates, debating between outright telling Nathan the whole story and instead just giving him the gift, then decides the latter was the safer route when it came to Nathan and his impatience for Warren’s word-vomit and withdraws his hand until it was fully extended, the box set hanging in the air between him and Nathan.

Nathan stares a moment—surprise crossing his face so briefly that, had Warren not already been looking right at him, he would have missed it—and then he stands up and closes the distance, his eyes never leaving the gift.

He doesn’t take it right away—only stares at it, like he wasn’t sure it wouldn’t lunge at him and bite if he put his hands on it. It takes Warren shaking it gently, once, for Nathan to finally accept it with both his hands.

Nathan scrutinizes the box set carefully, turning it slowly in his grip. He’s not frowning, so that’s a good sign, but he looks like he’s not processing what he has in his hands. He confirms the speculation a moment later when he looks up at Warren and says, “What’s this for?”

Warren just blinks. “Uh. Valentine’s Day?”

Nathan’s face screws up like Warren just told him the equation of string theory. Warren can’t help it—he wilts a little, and his fingers spring to twist his sleeve up between them like they always did when he wasn’t comfortable with whatever was happening either to or around him.

“You—” he starts, then falters. Nathan doesn’t say anything, so he tries again, “You wanted to be my Valentine?”

Was he wrong? Had the photo not been for Warren or something? It seemed improbable, given the fact Warren was not only pretty fucking sure they were technically dating now, but also that the fact that it was a picture of The Flash and The Eleventh Doctor didn’t really leave a lot of room for outside speculation of who the figures were supposed to represent. So, you know, who the fuck else could it have been for if not Warren?

Warren is so lost in his own near-spiral that he almost completely misses the slow smile that springs to life on Nathan’s face as he eyes Warren, growing from first a small twitch of the lips until it hung on his face, full and crooked as the kind of grin only Nathan Precott could really pull off.

“You’re an idiot, Graham,” he tells Warren softly, and then he reaches out and wraps his hand around the back of Warren’s neck to pull him down and in. Warren relaxes immediately, and his hands release their hold on his sleeve to press against Nathan’s face.

Hell yeah, Warren thinks to himself as he leans into the kiss, the box set thumping softly on the carpet next to him as Nathan’s hands find their way under Warren’s shirt and Warren’s fingers thread into Nathan’s belt loops in turn.

Nailed it.

[corvid-knight]

Choices

Dirk accidentally goes through Jake's bag and ends up thinking about some things.

Please be aware that this fic is basically Dirk thinking about killing himself. Please don't read it if that's going to unduly upset you.

(Read it on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13130661)

Jake left his shit here again, and you're not up to calling him over to come get it. Even less up to grabbing the backpack and heading over to deliver it yourself. At the moment, you're emotionally competent to wander vaguely around your rooms, noticing shit that needs attention and highkey hating yourself for not providing it.

His bag's on the floor, though, and if you leave it there it's going to end up trashed. Picking it up isn't a big thing, either; that, at least, you can do.

Unsurprisingly, you succeed in fucking this small task up. Par for the course, for you at least. The bag tips when you pick it up, the contents scattering themselves across the carpet, and you swear at yourself—quietly, because Hal's almost certainly monitoring every audio pickup in here—and kneel down to gather them up.

A pretty big chunk of you is asking why you bother. Pointing out that you could be doing something else right now, maybe not something useful, you're not capable of actually being off use to anyone including yourself, but something.

Stop. It's Jake's things; if I want to neglect shit I'll neglect my shit, not his.

First aid kit, which thankfully didn't pop open when it hit the floor. Notebook, with his bold, messy handwriting across both covers. Extra shirt.

Gun.

Everything else you place carefully back in the bag, but you pick up the handgun and just let it rest in your hand for a minute. It's probably loaded. The only reason he has a gun in his backpack at all is his there-just-might-be-something-outside-I'll-need-to-defend-myself-from mentality, and the unconscious expectation that he'll be attacked by some large animal would dictate that the weapon be kept ready. Even if it's not loaded, there'll be ammo somewhere in the bag itself, within easy reach.

Yeah, really easy. You're being stupid, Dirk.

You don't disagree with that thought. The real question is whether you're stupid for having the gun in your hand at all, for just hesitating and thinking about the damn thing, or for not checking to see if it's loaded.

And if it is?

If it is.

If.

Gunshot wounds are messy. You know that. You've indulged your morbid curiosity and looked images up online, ignored Hal's sarcastic jabs about paraphilias and gore kinks and wiped your history afterwards; you know what it looks like when someone shoves a barrel in their mouth and pulls the trigger. It's messy. Maybe gutting yourself or slicing your throat open would be be worse, but you can't be sure. If you angled it right, though, made sure the blast was going to more-or-less immediately destroy the right sections of your brain, it'd hurt less, which is a definite plus.

It would be fast. You like fast. It wouldn't be that bad of a mess.

Yeah. True. Probably true. And Hal's already set up pretending to be you, actually doing his job as an auto-responder for once; there's a pretty good chance that it'd be a couple days or weeks before anyone realized your absence.

When you flip the gun over to check, it's loaded after all.

Make a choice, bitch. You can't just sit here and wait to die on your own forever.

You could, actually. That's a valid option, if not a very appealing one. Less appealing than using the gun.

But.

Jake. Roxy. Dave. John. Rose.

You drop the gun on top of the bag—not in, even though getting it out of sight would be a better course of action—and get to your feet. Your shades are on the charger in the bedroom, the lenses flashing with multiple conversations as you pick them up. Only two of the chats have your orange text; it seems Hal's not actually fulfilling his duty all that well.

Jake's online and talking to Hal, some kind of debate about aliens that you don't bother to read. Interrupting is rude as fuck, but you do it anyway.

TT: Hey. TT: You left some stuff over here. Want to come pick it up and maybe hang out for a while? TT: I'm sure Hal can find a pirated version of whatever movie you're arguing over so you can both continue this and let me have a little company.

GT: Sounds lovely to me! ill be there in a bit!

It's that easy, you think. That simple, at least. Easy isn't the word.

Today is one more day you'll make it through. And you'll ask Jake to please not bring guns over, or at least make sure to take them home with him. Whatever you think sometimes, you do need to stick around.

[deanandieatpie-16]

I’m gonna try this, hope it goes well. Please comment.Dean x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Fem!Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel

Rating: T/M-ish

Tags: smut, fluff, Dean Winchester, Reader fic, sam winchester, wing porn, beautiful, smut smut

Summary: Reader can hear thoughts, Cas spills the beans, sam and dean don’t know and dean has been thinking some things *wink wink* about the Reader. This is what happens.

————————————————————————

You didn’t want them to know the truth, it was difficult enough trying to be human, when everyone’s thoughts were so loud. You had learned from an early age to mask your emotions, and even if it involved you going through someone’s thoughts, you ignored it. The only other person who knew what you were was Castiel, but that’s because he helped you. He being the mindless angel, let it spill one day.

“I mean, she can hear everything a person thinks, yet she has a better grasp on this humanity thing than I do.” Cas exclaimed, Dean and Sam both looked at him then their eyes shot to you. Your cheeks began to heat up and you knew that you were sunk. For the longest time you knew the way Dean thought about you, but you also knew he would never act on it. When you had first heard his thought about you, you had to excuse yourself from the room. He was thinking about bending you over a table and fucking you senseless, since then his thoughts had lessened but it still aroused you. You wanted him just as bad if not more, each night was spent thinking of him, and your fingers in your area. Playing, teasing until you could handle no more. If he knew you returned not only the appeal but the feelings, he would run. You knew this better than he did. Dean cast his eyes away from you, looking back at Cas.

“What do you mean hear everything?” Sam asked before dean could. You could hear the suspicion in Sams mind, and dean’s was screaming shit very loudly. You couldn’t help but smile a little, and Sam caught the smirk.

“I mean she’s an angel of the Lord. Just as I am, except she has adjusted very well, thanks to you two.” Cas stated simply. Sams whole face lit up and dean looked like he was going to puke. Your smirk dropped and knew it was time to speak up.

“I am an angel, and Castiel is my brother. He helped me escape heaven because I am special. I am the only angel ever who can read other angels thoughts. I was the one who told God of Lucifers deception, hence why Cas had to sneak me out.” You explained, your voice remained calm almost steely. Dean watched you but he knew his thoughts betrayed him, he was hurt. You had been hunting with them for years, and never once had you trusted them enough with your secret. Sam’s thoughts were completely different, he was bubbling over with questions and statements, he was so excited. Dean looked over at his brother and smirked, ‘what a nerd’ you read in his thoughts, but it regarded with fondness. Cas turned to you, unaware of what was happening.

“They didn’t know Cas. But it’s okay, I’m just tired of keeping it secret. They are my best friends, and it was wrong of me to keep it secret.” You explained, Cas had a look of guilt but you told him within the angel link he did nothing wrong. He sighed, and poofed out before anyone could say anything else.

“What the hell Cas.” Dean grumbled. You laughed a little but it quickly died when dean looked at you. Sam was looking between the two of you, and his thoughts strayed, and he decided to leave for a while.

“I’m gonna go get some food. Be back soon.” He snatched the impala keys from the table and practically ran out the door. Dean sighed, and took a long swig from his beer. You walked over to the table, and sat down in front of him. Even though he knew you could read him, you chose not to at this time.

“I’m not reading you by the way. I can chose to ignore it...” your voice almost accusing. Those bright green eyes never left yours, and all you wanted to do was apologise. “I’m sorry dean. At the time it was safer, it still is safer. If lucifer ever found me, he would kill me.” You watched dean closely, his face devoid of emotion. He found out your secret and hates you now. You couldn’t blame him, you were a dick with wings... you lied to him, just like everyone else in his life, and soon he would ask you to leave. You knew that he was afraid, and instead of embracing the change he would push you away. You were used to this, Castiel did the same thing.

“I understand why you didn’t tell us, because I mean, hell... we started the fucking apocalypse, Lucifer killed Sam and Bobby, even Cas. If he knew what you were....” His voice drifted off, and his brows furrowed deep. You stopped ignoring his thoughts, he loved you. Deeply, and it pained him greatly to even think about you dying.

“Dean, I’m still here.” You grabbed his hand, covering it with both of yours. He smiled at you, but very little.

“I love you. There is no other way of saying it, I know you know that. But never once have you acted on it. Why?” His voice was curious. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, you cast your eyes away.

“Because it’s not my place. I wanted you to come to me, because you wanted to. Not because I tricked you into it. Dean I have loved you since the moment you were created. I knew it was wrong but like Castiel I defied heaven, all for you. I couldn’t bear to think that you hated me because I am an angel. I was afraid, can you blame me?” You studied the freckles on his hand, but he used the other to pull your face up. His eyes were soft and understanding, his thoughts now only involved you. You couldn’t ignore them, you wanted to swim in them. To love them for the rest of his life, because you... you would endure to live on.

“No I can’t. But like Castiel, you are loved. You are not a dick with wings, you are brightest, most beautiful girl... well kinda, I’ve ever met. You are my best friend, and the best damn hunter beside myself and Sam.” His voice was sincere and you were moved to tears. They poured down your face, you pulled your hands away, wiping them away quickly. He brought his hand to the side of your face, cupping it gently.

“I don’t give a rats ass what you are. All I know is I don’t want to do this life without you.” Dean was being vulnerable, and it was hard not to cry. He was being so open and honest, rarely did that happen with anyone beside sam. You pulled him forward, crashing his lips against yours. You didn’t need to read his thoughts to know he wanted it too. You needed him to know how much he meant to you. This plain, handsome, beautiful little human, only Castiel understood your love for humanity and especially this human. You placed your hands in his hair, and it was everything you wanted but so much more. You could feel every particle in his being, each skin and hair follicle on his head. His lips had been made by God himself, and bless Him. He was perfect, every atom of your existence craved to be inside him. You allowed a little bit of your grace to flow from your lips into his. You heard his heart accelerate, and his brain was buzzing with the high. His kiss became urgent, he pushed you back and wound his hands around your waist. God above, this man would be your demise. You moved your hands, placing them upon his chest, and felt his rapid heart beat. His warmth, it seeped into your palms. You had no need for any of this yet you craved it. This body, craved it and you were more than happy to comply. Dean brought one hand to your chest, not quite touching your breast but it was aroused none the less. You let a little more grace flow from you into him, and his hand moved without thought. He was immediately rubbing your breast, and all you wanted to do was strip him, not piece by piece but angel poof his clothes away. You wanted him now, but of course Sam would choose to come back now. You pulled your lips away but dean did not give up so easily. His lips went to your neck, sucking the soft, tender flesh. Sam opened the door, and dean stopped kissing you but never moved away. Sam just shut the door and walked over to the table, setting the food down.

“About damn time.” He huffed out. A small chuckle escaped your mouth, it sounded musical. Deans chuckle rumbled deep within his chest, you felt it through your palm. Sam sat down behind dean, and began opening his food. He didn’t care, even his thoughts were about this food. You pushed dean away softly, and towards the food. His thoughts betrayed him and he knew it. Your cheeks blushed at his thought, he wanted you. In every way he could have you, to hell with Sam. He would throw him outta the room, and have his way with you. But the thing that made you blush most was the idea he had of seeing your wings. He wanted you to show them and he wanted to feel, touch, explore. He wanted to kiss them, because they brought you to him. Sam looked between the two of you, and he knew. He sighed, closing his food back up, he grabbed his laptop and charger.

“Fuckin hell. Kicked out of my own room. I’ll be back in an hour, if you aren’t by then, I’m going to leave both your asses here.” He grumbled, he played upset but his thoughts betrayed him. He was ecstatic, finally dean met his match. And it wasn’t him, thank god. Sam slammed the motel door shut and before a moment could pass dean had his lips upon yours. You wanted to say you were surprised but you read his thoughts. His tongue asked for entrance, and you agreed quickly. His tongue tasted your mouth, you melted against him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you up. He placed his hands under your butt, picking you up. You felt the heat pooling in your stomach, and you felt his arousal. It pushed into your jeans, you felt every wall dropping. You made sure to put up the walls within the angel connection, Castiel really did not need to hear it. A thought flashed across deans mind, and it stopped you kissing him. He sat down on the edge of the bed, and you were sitting fully against his bulge. You knew the wetness was pooling, and dean could feel the wet heat radiating from you. His eyes, god above, his eyes. They were dilated but his green eyes blazed with such lust, it made your heart race. His rubbed his hands up and down your back, and it was almost too much. He did not know the effect, your shoulder blades were sensitive, they housed your wings. No one but Castiel has seen your wings, it was very private for you. But this man, he desired to see you. The true you, and you wanted that so bad it felt like the vessel might burst. You searched his eyes, he was asking for permission and you granted it. You closed your eyes, and willed your wings to be expanded, and seen. You heard dean gasp, and your eyes flew open. You flew from his lap, thinking that you had disgusted him.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked, I thought because your thoughts.... dean.” You cast your eyes down, fearing to even look at him. You heard the bed squeak as he stood up, you saw his boots stop in front of you. You looked up cautiously, and a beautiful smile graced his face. You took a mental image, remembering it forever. God above, he was fucking gorgeous. Your wings had disappeared in the flurry of backing off, but deans thoughts were about your wings. All the colours flashed through his mind, and you knew he wanted to see them again.

“May I please?” His voice was sincere, and you would give him the world if he asked for it. You maintained eye contact this time, you allowed your wings to open and appear again. You heard the way he thought, and it made you blush. He was astonished, he had never seen anything more magnificent in his life. He stepped closer, his eyes seeking permission. You nodded, he ran his hands softly through your secondary wings. A sigh escaped your lips before you could withhold it, and dean stopped.

“Have I hurt you?” He was concerned, but he read your body language and knew he had done nothing wrong. A smirk formed and he brought his hand to your secondary wings again. You bit your lips to keep the gasp from escaping, he stepped around you. You heard his thought and knew what he had planned for you. You closed your eyes, embracing the feel of his rough hands through your wings. He brought his hands up to the top marginal coverts, near your shoulder blades. You could not contain it anymore, a moan escaped your lips. Dean stepped closer, placing his lips upon your neck. He nibbled upon the soft flesh there and his hands explored your wings. You wanted him now, your wings fluffed themselves out. You felt a small chuckle rumble through deans chest. You brought your hands around, one grasping his butt and the other rubbing his bulge. His lips left your neck, and you heard him moan softly. His hips swayed into your hand, and you folded your wings in, but didn’t put them away. You turned quickly, making his clothes disappear. You pushed him up against the wall, taking him in fully. He laughed, his eyes were watching you closely.

“That’s not fair, here I am naked, and you are still clothed.” His voice was rough. It was thick with sex, and you wanted him to beg for you. All those times he thought about sex, fucking you senseless, this was pay back. The little fucker.

“Oh it’s completely fair. All those times you thought about fucking me, and never acting on it... I will have you beg for me before these clothes come off.” Your voice just as thick as his, his smile dropped off. His eyes were watching you, gauging you carefully. You dropped to yours knees, his manhood was at eye level. Before he could protest or try to convince you otherwise you had him in your mouth. One hand went to his balls, and the other began to rub where your mouth was. His hands rested against the tops of your wings, and a jolt went through your body. His fingers danced along the feathers, spurring your mouth quicker. His hips bucked forward, and a moan escaped his mouth. God above, it was so arousing you almost had your own orgasm. You kept up with him, but suddenly he pushed you away. He pulled you up to eye level, his were dark and lust filled. He brought his hands to your shirt, he ripped it off, taking the bra with it. A gasp escaped your lips, and he brought his mouth to your breasts. You tossed your head back, your hands divulging into his hair. He worked his hands down, fiddling with the button on your jeans. You had enough, and made them disappear. His hands found purchase on your butt, and he lifted you up. His penis found you quite easily, and entered. He brought his head up and captured your lips again. Your wings opened fully, they wrapped around dean and yourself. He pushed in and out of you, and you heard his thought. He was about cum, and you knew you were about to as well. His pace quickened, and it was bubbling over for yourself. You pushed some of your grace into him just before your orgasm ripped through your body. And that little bit of grace pushed dean over the edge, he released himself inside you. You felt it, nothing God ever created felt this amazing. You sent a silent prayer to Him, thanking him for sex. Dean pulled back, huffing slightly. His chest was meeting yours as you watched him carefully. He sat your feet down carefully, your wings receded back and you willed them to disappear. You linked your hand into his, and pulled him toward the bed. You pushed him back, and flopped down beside him. You weren’t winded, but he was and it was beautiful. His heart raced, he was so imperfectly human. You still craved this man, you always would. You curled closer to him, and his arm pulled you against him. His eyes were twinkling, and bright green. You watched him, and he smiled down at you.

“That was... fucking.. amazing. Why.. the hell didn’t we do that before?” He laughed. He placed a warm kiss against your forehead, and you closed your eyes. Your vessel was tired now, and you knew dean was tired. You nudged him, and eyed the blankets. He understood, he scooted back, and you followed. He crawled under the covers, and pulled you against him. God this human, you loved him like no other. You placed a hand against his chest, feeling his warmth seep through your palm.

“I love you. I didn’t tell you before, but I do love you Dean Winchester. You are the best human I know and I would happily rebel against heaven again.” Your voice echoed through the quiet room, your fingers played with his chest hair. Your eyes searching his carefully, he smiled again.

“I love you. Angel or not, you are the best woman I’ve had the pleasure of knowing.” His voice still rough from sex. You kissed the side of his chest, and cuddled him closer.

“I’ll tell Cas to visit Sam, and suggest another room.” You whispered to Dean, you felt him chuckle and kiss the top of your head.

“Probably a good idea, because we are nowhere near done.” He growled. A shiver set down your spine, and knew it was going to be a fantastic night.

[likeawildthing]

have a cleaned up but still ridiculous ‘brought together by a minor car accident’ au because jily. and llamas.

“Hello? Ma’am? Are you okay?”

Lily opened her eyes to find a boy staring at her through her car window with mild concern on his face. Two boys, actually. She blinked, trying to refocus her gaze. Didn’t work, but he was so pretty she almost didn’t mind seeing two of him.

“Are you okay?” he asked again.

Lily took stock—her knee hurt like hell, but the airbag had deployed and prevented serious injury. Her greatest danger seemed to be repeated sneezing from the bloody white powder still hanging in the air.

She rolled down her window. “I think so, yeah.”

“Thank fuck—I mean god. I mean shit.” He rested a hand on the roof of her car and leaned forward. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Lily said, leaning her head back on her seat. “Did I hit the llama?”

The grin slipped of his face—faces. “You don’t remember what happened?”

“Er…I hit a llama?”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I didn’t?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“There was a llama…right?” She swore there was a llama, and swearing, and swerving.

“A llama, or a mutant sheep,” he said, grinning slightly. Lily’s vision finally focused—there was only one of him now. He was far handsomer than her blurry vision had given him credit for. 

He had a very nice smile, didn’t he?

“You really don’t remember?” he asked. She shook her head. Or started to, but stopped, due to the pain. Good Teeth leaned forward. “Are you sure you’re okay? Were you unconscious just then?”

“No,” Lily said, because that was the appropriate reply when someone asked you if you were just unconscious.

“Right,” he said. She could tell he didn’t believe her. She didn’t believe her.

“Was I unconscious?”

“Maybe. And you didn’t hit the llama, you hit me.”

“Fuck, sorry.”

“No worries, mate. I hit you, too.”

“Well, are you okay then?”

He shrugged. “Me? Yeah.”

Lily frowned. She couldn’t see any injuries from this vantage point, but he was leaning on the car, and she couldn’t see.

“I’m fine, really,” he insisted. “Besides, I’m not the one with a possible head injury.”

“I don’t have a possible head injury.” That was quite possibly untrue, as the throbbing in her head reached critical peak.

“Since you have a head injury,” he said, ignoring her, “I’ll tell you that we both swerved to avoid hitting the llama, and then. I’m not sure, actually. I think we hit each other.”

“You think?”

“It all happened very fast.”

“My mum’s gonna murder me.”

“Not if you die first.”

“That’s awful,” she said, but her grin betrayed her amusement.

He ducked his head sheepishly

“Sorry—inappropriate humor,” he said, ducking his head sheepishly—not the mutant kind, either. The slightly adorable kind. “Coping mechanism.”

Why couldn’t she can’t stop staring at his face?

“D’you have a phone?” he asked, pulling her out of her trance. “I called emergency, but my phone died. They’re on their way. Hopefully. Reckon they aren’t keen on the line disconnecting though.”

Lily frowned. It hadn’t yet occurred to her to call emergency. “Mine’s dead—forgot my charger at school.”

“What are the odds?”

“Well, given that my favorite shoe broke this morning, and I dropped my toast and spilled my tea when said shoe broke, and I’ve just gotten into an accident caused by a llama…”

He grinned. “Fair point. We’ll just hang out until they come, then.”

“Mhm.” Lily rubbed her forehead, wishing her headache would just…not.

“Well, then. What’s your name, Miss I-wasn’t-unconscious? Your birthday? Favorite color?”

“I do not have a head injury.”

“Still. I’d feel better if you answered the questions.”

“Well, you don’t know anything about me, so how can that possibly help?”

“You were definitely unconscious.”

“I was resting my eyes.”

“Listen—”

“Fine” Lily said, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Lily Evans. Nineteen. Blue. Not just any shade of blue, mind. Not like, regular blue, or slate blue—that’s too gray—or even periwinkle or anything pastel. Like the deepest, darkest shade of navy you can imagine. Almost black. That blue, and only that blue. Happy?”

“Well, then.”

“You asked.”

“Fair point.”

“How bad are the cars?”

“Not bad. Don’t worry about it. I think you should lie back.”

“I think I should get out.” She reached for her handle, and he looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but instead, he stepped away so she could swing the door open. She stepped out, then immediately wobbled with stabbing pain that shot up from her knee when she put weight on her left leg. When he stepped forward to help, she all but sagging against him.

She could all but sag against the car, but why would she, given the alternative?

“I think my knee is busted.”

“Clearly,” he said, placing a steadying hand on the small of her back. “Can you walk?”

“To where? I think I need to just…sit. Right here.”

“I think we should move to the grass.”

“Why?”

“I need to sit, for one, and you can lie down while we wait.”

“How do I know you aren’t going to murder me?”

“My car is full of balloons, Evans. No room for a body.”

She looked over her door at his car which was, aside from being properly banged up in the corner, full of balloons. She looked at him. “That’s not helping your ‘I’m not a creep’ case, Mister I’m-not-a-balloon-weilding-maniac.”

“They’re for a prank—long story. And it’s not the point. I really feel like you should be sitting.”

“I really feel like not being murdered.”

“I wouldn’t be nearly this concerned with your possible head injury if I was going to kill you, Evans. That’d only work to my advantage.”

This made a strange kind of sense to Lily. Something. The grass—lying down on the grass, sleeping on the grass—held a certain kind of appeal. Just…one problem. “I’m not sure I can walk.”

“Come on, then. You’re a wreck.”

“Ha.”

Before she could process what was happening, he picked her up clean off the ground. Like in a movie. It was possibly the sexiest thing that had happened to her. Except that she was covered in white powder. And definitely had a black eye, and maybe a minor concussion. The pain from her knee might kill her before he ever did.

“I’ve always wanted to sweep a pretty girl off her feet,” he said, carrying her around both cars to the shallow ditch that ran parallel to the road, “but this isn’t what I envisioned.”

“I always wanted to be hit on by a tall, handsome, bespectacled stranger, but this isn’t what I meant.” No complaints, though.

“No complaints here, either.”

Fuck all, did she actually say that last bit out loud?

“James,” he said.

“Hm?”

“I’m James.”

He sat her down on the embankment, then plopped down right next to her. He didn’t object when she leaned against his shoulder for support.

“I might have a slight head injury, James.”

“I know.”

“Can we pretend you have a head injury and you tell me things about you, too?” You know, for science.

“Right, well. James Potter. 27th Mach. And green. Apparently.”

“Oh?”

He picked at a clump of grass. “Recent development.”

“Do you have a brain injury?”

“No. You’re just very distracting.”

“Ah.”

“I don’t think I was supposed to move you from the car.”

“I moved myself first, James Potter, and I think that’s a spinal cord.”

He laughed. “We’re really, really bad at this car accident thing.”

“Yeah,” she said, and then she noticed his shaking hands. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“What?” He followed her gaze. “Yeah. Just…adrenaline.”

She grabbed it. To steady it, because he’d been nice to her, and carried her, and this was the decent thing to do. It’d be completely warped to note how nice her hand felt in his, or how it calmed her even though she could feel his heartbeat through their joined hands. And then she noticed his shin. His gashed and bleeding shin.

“I might have a slight concussion, James Potter, but you have a profusely bleeding shin.”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine though. Nothing to your knee.”

“Are you the new Potters who just moved here?”

He laughed again. She liked that, too. “Nothing really goes unnoticed around here, huh?”

“The sooner you learn that, the better. And I think the llama probably belongs to the Stevensons. It wandered an awfully long way, if that’s the case, but ‘tis the season.”

“For llamas?”

“For llama mating.”

“Ah.”

She’d let that crash and burn, yeah? Ha.

“You know,” she said, trying desperately to sound more casual than she felt, which was all jittery and weird, and for reasons that had nothing to do with the accident. “In terms of being rescued by a tall, handsome stranger, this is pretty on scenario.”

He smiled. “I’m not sure it counts as rescued when I am part of the cause.”

“No complains.”

“Well, Evans. How did you envision a tall, dashing man hitting on you? Because I am more than happy to oblige you there.”

“I think you just did.”

“That’s how you envisioned it?”

“Well, no, but we already have a hot date scheduled.”

“Oh?”

“At accident and emergency, because you are definitely getting that shin looked at.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“You’re going to need stitches. Probably a scar.”

“Damn,” he said. “There go my dashing good looks.”

She squeezed his hand. “I didn’t say dashing, James. I said handsome.”

“Well, then.”

“But you’re that, too.”

“I think I like you, Lily. Which is mad, given that we’ve known each other for twenty minutes.”

“It’s been a really intense twenty minutes though.”

“True.”

They heard sirens, and a moment later the rescue response appeared over the crest of a distant hill. The impractical, really enjoying leaning on James Potter’s shoulder part of her almost wished they hadn’t been so bloody efficient in their response time.

“You’d better lie down, Evans, or they’ll yell at me for letting you sit up.”

With a smart-arse salute, Lily lay down on the grass just as the ambulance came into proper view. “Do you think you should give me mouth-to-mouth?”

“Maybe after our hot date this afternoon.”

“Good plan. I like you, too, you know.”

“I’d figured that out, yeah.”

“And that’s not even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me today.”

“I dunno that I’d qualify this part as weird, so much as awesome.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “You know what I mean.”

“Strangely enough,” James said, grinning down at her. “I do.”