You daft fool.
Pairing : Jensen x Reader. Word count : 1789 Written for : @spnaubingo Square filled : Author!Jensen. Warnings : Angst, injuries, fluff.
A/N : My original idea was more smutty, but the fic goes where the fic wants. I just type it out.
SPN AU & Trope Bingo Masterlist.
Jensen sat at his desk staring out the window and watching the snow fall. This time of year, he always locked himself away in the cabin in the woods using the excuse of ‘writing in solitude’. Truth was, he just didn't particularly feel like dealing with the stress of Christmas.
So he sat alone, watching the snow, ignoring his laptop while a fire roared in the room.
Mostly, he didn't mind being so alone. He didn't have to look good for anyone. He could get lost in thought for hours and not have someone nagging at him to take better care of himself. But mostly, he could focus on his work. He was in the middle of a book and getting lost in thought.
But tomorrow was Christmas. A small part of him was lonely. And that's what his thoughts kept returning to. A longing for a conversation with someone other than himself. It had been weeks.
“Jensen?” The door opened, a burst of cold air and snow came in as a hooded face looked into the room. “Jensen!”
He snapped out of it as you stumbled in and tried to kick the door shut behind you. “What are you doing here?” He asked as he got up and shut the door.
You handed him the bags you had been carrying and shook off snow from yourself with a “brrr.” He watched you as you began to take off your outerwear and hang it on the hooks near the door. “I was asked to make sure you're making progress.”
“You could have-”
“Called? Emailed? I did, Jensen. You haven't answered for days.” You took the bags from him and headed for the kitchen, and he quietly followed. “I also brought you supplies, because I know you. You'll forget to head into town and live on canned beans for a week.” You shot him a look as you started unpacking.
“I can take care of myself.” he mumbled.
You stopped and turned to him, hands on your hips. “You haven't showered in a couple days.” He opened his mouth to protest but you cut him off. “I can smell you, Jensen.” he rolled his eyes. “Your clothes look like you haven't changed in a week. You haven't shaved since you got here, which I kinda like, not gonna lie.” You gave him a smile. “And your fridge is empty.” you pointed at it behind you with your thumb.
“What are you now, my mother?” He grumbled and moved to grab a beer, one of the few things left in his fridge.
“No, I'm your editor, and friend. Hate me all you want for disturbing your solitude, Jen, but I refuse to let you starve to death up here.” Jensen let out a grunt and left the room with his beer. You watched as he sat himself back at his desk, only this time he focused on his laptop. You signed, and went back to putting things away.
“Leaving yet?” he asked, when you were done. He didn't even turn when he asked, he just stared at his screen.
You walked in and sighed. He wasn't writing, he was googling random things likely just to make it look like he was making progress when he wasn't. “Am I that dreadful as company?”
“Yes.”
You shook your head and looked down at your feet. “Fine.” you mumbled quietly. Without another word, you pulled on your boots and grabbed your jacket. Wrapping your scarf around your neck, you pulled open the door. “Asshole.” You muttered before stepping out and slamming it.
Jensen watched you though the window as you stormed off to your car. You had to clear it off again, but you did so as quick as you could. He sighed when he watched you turn your car around and start to leave. Tearing his eyes away from the window, he looked back down at his laptop. “Fuck.” He groaned.
Then he heard it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he looked up and out the window again. He couldn’t see anything but the snow. Squinting, as if that would help, he looked around. Getting up, he put on boots and a coat and stepped outside.
“Hello?” He called out, moving down off the porch and taking a few steps into the snow. The snow was pounding down. The blizzard that was in the forecast for tomorrow hit early. He moved a few more feet then stopped. He was about to turn back when he thought he saw something down the road.
He felt his stomach drop as he started moving forward again. The more he could make out, the faster he moved until he was running as quick as he could through the snow, stumbling a few times as he ran. “Y/N!?”
He slid when he stopped at the drivers side of your car. You had crashed into a tree, your head against the steering wheel, eyes closed and a touch of blood running down the side. Yanking the door opened, he moved you as carefully as he could. He knew he couldn’t just leave you there, not with how heavy the snow was falling. Your car would be buried before help could even get there. IF it could even get there.
“I got you.” He mumbled as he carried you back through the snow to the cabin. “You’ll be okay, I got you.”
When you came to, you were warm in a bed. But it wasn’t your bed. With a groan, you started to get up. You sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, head in your hands. Then you got up and slowly made your way out of the room. Stepping out, you saw him. He was sitting at his desk typing away. “J-Jensen?”
His head spun around, and he was quick to get up. “You shouldn’t be out of bed.” He rushed to your side, arm going around your waist as he guided you to the couch.
You furrowed your brow. “W-what happened?”
He sat you down. “You crashed into a tree yesterday.”
“Yesterday?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I called for help, but the storm is so bad no one can get here. The nurse on the phone said it sounded like you would be fine. You didn’t hit your head too bad. You’ve been in and out of sleep. I’ve been keeping my eye on you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For?”
You shrugged. “Ruining your solitude. As soon as I’m okay to drive-”
“Your car crashed.” He told you again. “It’s not going anywhere and neither are you.” You started to tear up. “What, what’s wrong? Is it hurting somewhere?” He checked you over.
“You don’t want me here, Jensen. I remember that much. And now I’m stuck here.. and it's Christmas.. I'm stuck spending Christmas with someone who doesn't want me around.”
“I mean, I might be a little grumpy from sleep deprivation…” You sniffled, and huffed out a small sob. “But that's only because I’m afraid to sleep.”
“Nightmares? What have you been writing up here?”
He gave you a soft chuckle. “Not nightmares. I'm afraid they’re wrong. I'm afraid you really hurt yourself, worse than I think, and if I sleep…” his voice trailed off.
“You're worried about me? You don't even like me..”
“I don't like the holidays.” he corrected. “I keep you around as my editor, don’t I?” You gave him a shrug. “Relax here, okay? I'm going to cook you something to eat.”
He wiped a tear off your cheek before getting up and you watched him walk away and begin moving through the kitchen.
Glancing around, you spotted his laptop. Curious about what he had been writing with such emotion when you came in, you got up and grabbed it before bringing it back to the couch.
Jensen was a fantasy writer. An amazing one. He created vast worlds that you wanted to dive into, characters that you loved or hated. It was like he was looking through the looking glass and writing out what he saw there, the flaws, the perfections, it was always written in perfect detail.
But this.. this was no fantasy you were reading.
You furrowed your brow as you skimmed the words, scrolling through pages. The names were different, but there was no mistaking it. He was writing romance? But not just any romance.. your romance.
He walked in balancing plates in his hands. “I made a lot, but whatever you don't eat, I will-” He froze when he looked up and saw you with his laptop. “What are you doing?” he asked cautiously.
“Reading..” you breathed out, not looking up. “My accident.. you taking care of me.. you wrote it all down.”
Jensen shifted nervously on his feet before stepping forward and putting the plates on the coffee table. Once his hands were free he reached for the laptop but you moved it away. “Don't-”
“But it doesn't end there… you wrote out this whole life..” You started going back through it, back to page one. “Jensen.. how long have you been writing this? There’s.. there's so much here..” You looked up at him and saw, what was that, fear, In his eyes. “Do you really see me like this?”
He licked his lips. “Can we not do this right now?” He grabbed his laptop and shut it before placing it back on his desk, keeping his back to you.
“Jensen..” You got up and went to stand behind him. When he didn’t turn, you placed your hand to his back. “Talk to me. Please?”
“I hate Christmas.” He grumbled. “Every event, you're with stupid Joe.” You bit your bottom lip to keep from laughing at how childish he sounded. “I hate that guy. I deal with it, but i can't at Christmas. I can't stand to see you two happy, kissing under a mistletoe and probably wear dumb matching sweaters…” You burst out laughing at that. “It's not fucking funny!” he growled
“Why would i be wearing matching sweaters and kissing him? I mean he'd love that.. but why is that what's happening in your head?”
“Because that's what I'd do if I had you..” he mumbled.
“Then for once in your life, stop hiding away and just ask me.” He turned his head to look at you over his shoulder, and you let you hand move up so your hand rested there and you could poke his cheek. “I'm not with Joe, Jensen. I just hate going to events alone, and you never ask me.”
“Really?”
You nodded. Getting on your toes, you kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Jensen, you daft fool. I've been in love with you too.”
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