#i was hoarding conversations to be a quick way of filling the missions as x class next time smuggler comes up

[queen-scribbles]

So, fun thing about the In a Pickle follow-up convo if you don't have it til after recruiting Guss.....

[golddaggers]

cruel summer

pairing: thor x reader;

warnings: well there are some mentions to smut but nothing explicit. maybe some curse words. nothing too extreme. 

a/n: okay so i am drunk and secretly on my mum’s laptop. forgive me any mistakes on it? i guess? and i’m breaking the dry spell on this blog!!! sheesh. i hope y’all like it and send me some feedback. it’s nice, really. 

word count: 2,8k+ i think

[summer]

The first time it happened was unintended. Drinks at the bar after a long, long day, a lot of careless flirting that turned into making out and eventually lead to where I knew I'd always end up: his arms.

In my defense, how was I supposed to say no to Thor? Say no to the gentleman he always was with me, a comforting hand always heavy on my shoulder when I needed it? Heck, how would I deny someone who would seek after me once we weren't in the battlefield just so he knew I was alright? I couldn't.

And of course, I wasn't going to be the one refusing that gorgeous man. So tall, so wild. Everything I wanted. Everything that seemed so out of reach.

But I should have found the will to say no. It was insane. We worked together, damn it. Given, we were both a little alcohol intoxicated and with a pent-up energy that was desperate, clawing its way out of our bodies. Nonetheless, by the end of the night we agreed, between shared breathy laughs in the dark, that we wouldn't do it again. That it was the sensible thing to do.

Lord knows what'd happen if Tony were to find out about this one night stand. We were lucky enough nobody saw us heading back to my apartment, a rented place in Cornelia Street. It was small and somewhat messy, still, the place was enough for the two of us. We christened every single room that night, ending sprawled on my bed, chuckling at our recklessness.

Being around him was easy as gasping for air. Plus, how can I say it? Thor had skills no man before him had showed me. Even the smallest of thoughts about it sends shivers down my spine. I indulge my mind then, contemplating on how easy it was for him to pick up on my tastes. He definitely spoilt me to other men in that aspect. Some others too.

I woke up in the morning after feeling sore everywhere. My legs felt as if they didn't belong to me any more, so I limped my way into the kitchen, finding him in nothing but black underwear. I was suddenly very conscious about my nudity, which was brushed off when he came to me, a childish grin followed by a peck on the cheek.

At that moment, I hoped we could really just keep this as a dirty little secret. It wouldn't happen again, we agreed, so we might as well linger a while longer. Enjoy whilst we could.

How wrong I was, though. Nearly every night along that summer, we kept finding our way towards each other, sloppily kissing while our bodies were one. Surrendering to an overwhelming desire that crept inside us. It felt like he was a strong magnetic force that kept me bound to him.

The bliss came to an unexpected halt when I saw him entirely invested in a conversation with somebody else. I was aware that I was in no place to be jealous, but she was so beautiful. The straight blond hair falling scarcely to the middle of her back, green eyes sparkling with the won interest of him. Body curved like an hourglass. My heart clenched, uneasy. I couldn't control it, not now.

I felt so silly to have trusted our rushed promises between the snaps of his hips against mine. It was obvious he didn't care about me like that, the crazed, jealousy infusing kind of way.  What in Heaven's name was I doing anyway? Was I out of my mind?

It was cruel to have allowed myself to do this. And stupid. We both agreed to no-strings-attached and here I was, so damn knotted. Sinking deep into something with no future. Typical me.  

From a distance, I watched as his eyes followed me out of Steve's birthday party, forcing myself to run to the back yard. I couldn't be around him. Couldn't let him see how wrecked I was.

The grass was wet below my bare feet when I took off my heels, throwing them to the side. At this point, I could feel the alcohol effects clouding my brain, I needed some time to calm down, to get my shit together.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" His hand was warm on my shoulder, "You left in a hurry."

I was sitting on a cold swing, my head resting against the chain. Green grass pickled my feet, it grounded me to the present. To what was truly happening. I often slipped into my thoughts, blocking out everything else.

This was a moment I wanted to keep.

"I'm fine," I shrugged, croaking out a response, I didn't want him to know I was crying, "I mean it. I just needed to catch some air."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, Thor, I am," Wiping away the tears discreetly, I hoped my puffy eyes would go unnoticed, "You don't have to worry about me."

There was a shift in his breath, a low chuckle, and he stood before me, one hand cupping my cheek. In that position, he looked even more massive than he already was and it made me feel tiny, meaningless.

Molten deep blue bored into my soul when I dared to look up at him. He was lost, unsure what to say, how to deal with me when I was like that. I knew Thor didn't want to hurt my feelings or burn the bridge that kept our friend in place. He was scared. Just as I was.  

"I always will." Thor whispers then, deep and certain, "We are, as you say it, screwing things, are we not?"

"What do you mean?" My mouth suddenly feels dry.

"This, being together-"

"The thing is, we aren't," A huff slips from me, "We aren't together, Thor. Isn't that what we agreed? That it was too risky to date?"

"I recall us saying we would test things, that this… It was a trying out."

I got back on my feet then, his figure still dwarfing me. There was no refraining on touching him, my hand gently palming his strong torso, avoiding his eyes - Yes, we would try to make it work. But could we? It was easy to destroy everything at this point.

The thought of breaking up with him, severing the ties that bound us together… I don't think I would ever fully recover. It wouldn't ever be the same. That heartbreak was the kind time couldn't ever mend.

Thor was so gentle when he lifted my chin, I melted into him, a smile pulling up the corners of my lips.

"Do you want to leave this party? Go somewhere else, just the two of us?"

"What if somebody sees us?" Anxiety peaked, sweat hoarding under my bare armpits, "You know how they can be with inside dating."

A laugh fills the buzzing silent night, cutting through the insistent crickets' sound. He tugs me even closer, arms around my waist lifting me up off the ground just a hair. With forearms bare, I could feel the full extent of his sizzling skin on mine.

Our lips brush in a tender kiss, it's quick and soothing. In that moment, I feel I would stay there forever.

Wind stings my cheeks and the sky cracks. I chuckle, cocky. It feels nice to know I evoke such strong emotions on him. Powerful, even.

"Let's leave. Now," A subtle command underneath his composed voice, "I cannot…"

I tilt my head, feigning curiosity, which is dismissed as fast as it came. The night breeze dips colder, my body starts to shiver, he can notice very well how I am in need of warmth. Likewise, I notice what he means. The reading between the lines. I smile.

We leave, then. Sneaking out from different places. I tell Natasha I feel a little bit under the weather, I blame the glasses of champagne. She seems to believe. I don't know what Thor tells the others. It doesn't matter.

Later, I am pouring myself some water. Chilled, I am thirsty for it. Thor's still half asleep in the bed, snug to one of my pillows. There's this urge, for me to watch him, to observe the soft creases by his eyes, so peaceful. Not the warrior I know, just a man. A tired man.

He's been through so much.

My lips, they're still rather swollen, press against his forehead. He sighs, tightening his arms to the soft of the pillow, mumbling for me to get back. It's cold. It's late. I indulge, finding my place amidst his arms.

Yes, I would stay forever.

If he'd let me.

[late fall]

The nightclub was trembling with the loud song. It had been Wanda's idea. A celebration for Tony and Pepper's engagement. She held a strong point, we needed a break, all this pressure on fighting had taken its toll, each and every one of us were in need of a light gathering.

Brown leaves floated around me. Alcohol pumping through my veins. I needed air, needed to think. For about a month now, Thor had been gone. Said he needed some time to think, to gather himself after losing his brother. I understood. Of course.

Only after I heard that Jane had returned to the United States I truthfully comprehended. It was never about Loki, no. He needed to find out if he had got over his ex and that reached my gut like a sharp knife.

That is why you should never cultivate hope. It's deceiving and impelling to get you hurt. To be surrounded by the knowledge I was his band-aid… That forced tears to cloud my vision. I had to end this. Everything.

My tiny black dress didn't do much for the fall weather, but it took me several minutes to realise I was shaking from the cold, not my compulsive crying. I wanted to go home, so I did. Tugged Nat by the elbow, she seemed worried, though she didn't ask why my eyes were puffy and tiny mascara lines stained my cheeks. I told her to send Pep my apologies.

Leo greeted me when I returned home, his bright orange fur tickling my calves as he rubbed himself into me. Poor thing, he wasn't used to me being gone for so long. I had found him not shy from two weeks and, in the meanwhile, hadn't picked up any new missions, hence all my time was for him.

It clicked, at that instant, work was my way out of this situation I threw myself in. Plus I was sure kicking some douchebag's ass would at least make me feel avenged. I'd pretend it was him.

"Your mama will come back to you," I murmured, already tucked into my bed, my cat's green eyes staring at me in plain curiosity, "Be sure of that."

Next thing I know, I'm in a different state, running. Trouble followed wherever I went, so I was counting on that to find some sort of peace of mind. To let all my insecurities behind. And it sufficed.

At first, anyway.

Tony would call Friday evenings, surprised that I had finished things already. To be fair, I trained for this, a warrior's mind prepared to find the best solution in the smallest of time. My father, should he be alive, would be proud.

Hotel rooms were passive, cold. I hated being there, the neat wallpaper and golden furniture. Only during those nights, in which I wasn't tired enough to ignore my surroundings, I would think of him.

In my memories, it came his smile first, a hand stretched before me so we could dance in the middle of my living room, under the pale light of the moon sneaking past the window. I felt so safe then. Laughing like a child.

Eyes closed, my mind drifts. I see everything and I cry. No one cares if I am loud, so my sobs fill the room, the pillows being thrown away. I hated that I allowed myself to be led on, to be a mere, ordinary replacement.

My phone lit in the black, a few nights later, a single text showed. Come back. That simply wasn't enough now.

[winter]

Reality sinks in at ease, my entire body aching. Last thing I remembered was being in a fight. Two guys, maybe three. I knew I could take them, wouldn't have said yes if I assumed otherwise. Or maybe I was being extra reckless.

Either way, it came with a price. A deep pungle of a knife, just below my ribcage, I was lucky to be back in New York, lucky to find in me to call Steve, lucky that he picked it. Crimson red pain washed through me, I lied still in his arms.

After, all turned into a blur. There were bright, white lights above. A clean, septic-smelling room. Slouched on the couch, long legs pried open, Thor slept. So alike to my dreams, I deemed to be asleep.

The soft grunt of pain spilling past my lips woke him, deep blue into me. I looked the other way, this was much harder.

"Why… I tried talking to you."

"I know," My voice is coarse, I must have been asleep for hours, "I didn't want to hear you. Didn't want to face reality."

He stands, mighty, handsome.

"What reality?" A wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows, he's confused, I realise, "Birdie, tell me."

"Don't call me that," I frown, it's much too intimate, "Not when you are about to break up with me. I know about Jane."

There's a moment of stillness, Thor doesn't come any closer to my bed. Confusion switches to a hint of anger. I feel he's about to say I am not entitled to say anything about Jane when I called Steve first. Steve, my old crush. His friend. He doesn't like to know he was the last to be aware of my injuries.

Or at least I think he feels this way.

"What about Jane?" He asks then, a large hand grasping one of my own, "I have the right to know," His voice is soft, "Please."

"I heard Pepper telling Nat. I just… Well, you were always so in love with her!" Shameful tears escape, "I thought…"

"Thought she would come back and I would open my arms to someone who left me?" Bitterness soaks his remark, "Look at me," It's childish, but I don't, I want him to touch me, to smoothly grip my chin and make me look at him, which he does, rough fingertips just right on my skin, "I should have made it clear that all I wanted was to be with you. From the beginning. Somehow I think all of this is my fault-"

"Thor…"

"Let me," Thumb strokes my cheekbone, I nod, "It is my fault because I let you think I was not serious about this. My fault I complied to your request to keep it between us."

The thrum of my heart intensifies, I can feel it on my ribs. Never in my life someone had made me so nervous, anxious. I have isolated myself, pushed him out of my life, yet, here he is, apologising for something that wasn't his fault.

I wanted to hug him.

"This time away helped me to realise I am very serious, because all I could think about, dream about, was you. Little and armourless in my arms," Blue flickers, it's bright, shiny, a sea in daylight, "I love you. And I am sure that is the worst thing you have ever heard."

A smirk crosses my face, I can't help it. There's nothing I can say. I whisper, like a secret, a confidence, that I love him too. Have been loving him for quite a while. It was torture being away from him and I meant it.

Nobody could convince him to leave, not when the nurse came to change my bandages or Tony swung by to talk. Our hands rested intertwined the whole time.

Track of time was something we didn't focus on. I cried at some point, regretting the way I acted. It was my tendency to break things I loved, to be insecure they'd leave anyway then taking one step in advance. It's better to leave before you get left.

Thor comforted me, pulling me to lie closer. The bed was small, so we had to be super snug to one another. I wasn't complaining. I missed the warmth. Missed the light conversations.

We filled in the blanks, talked until we could do nothing except enjoy the nice silence. Sleeping together. An old, yet renewed, intimacy.

Now I was sure I'd stay there forever.

"Promise?" The sun was peeking through the curtains, I was still sleepy, soft between his arms, "Promise you will stay forever?"

I smile, eyes closed still, a syrupy happiness spreading as fast as the daylight embalming us.

"I promise," It's hushed, meant for him, "Forever. All your summers."

A happy, smooth laugh slips from him, Thor brings me closer, a tight embrace. I feel, after everything, truly happy. A cruel summer, a happy winter.

There was no doubt from this forward, they'd all be happy. I was certain, that was everything I needed from him to completely surrender. Certainty.

I surrendered.

--

tags!

forever

@sea040561 @momc95 @qxeen-of-hearts

marvel

@frenfics @mrscutiefandobhaz

thor

@lancsnerd @odinson-barnes @rishlo​ @desia22

[dc-fics-and-pics]

YJ SuperboyXReader

promt:Could you write a cute Conner (Young Justice 2010 cartoon) x short & kind! Reader oneshot, where Reader (a clone of Emma Frost) and her boyfriend (Conner) are suddenly stranded on a beautiful tropical island? From Reader's POV?

Just a quick trip he said. You will be back in a week he said. Nothing will go wrong he said. He said we have to take a quick boat ride from Miami to Peurto Rico. He said that there was some Young Justice business to be taken care of. He said he had other business so you have to do it. You said hell no. Conner said nothing.

Ever since you joined the young justice team Nightwing had sent you off on little missions with Conner. Anytime he was to busy or didn't feel the need for the whole team to do something you and Conner were sent away. On the travels around the globe, you and COnner had grown to be very close. You learned to get to know him and even develope a crush on your assigned partner. So when Conner asked you out on a date out of the blue while on a plane to Huston Texas you were very quick to except.

You had never cared about all the places you had to travel. You didn't mind the long car rides or flights, but you told Nightwing day one that under no circumstance would you ever take a boat anywhere.

Here you are though. Rocking back and forth gripping a petal bar for dear life as your stomach threatens to burst.

Not one for confrontation you reluctantly agreed after hours of begging your team leader to not make you go on this trip. However, he never did inform you of where you were passing through. You had already stepped on the boat with Conner the rest of the team waiving you off from the deck.

As you clenched onto Conners's hand he uttered a sentence that made you want to fling yourself into the water below you, "I've always wanted to go through the Bermuda Triangle."

You were shocked at first remembering the geography of where you were sailing. Then jumping overboard crossed your mind. You had seen the movies and read the books. Not only where you already afraid of sailing you now had to sail through what you deemed was the scariest part of the ocean.

A quick conversation with lagoon boy made your fears double after the many stories he had of the devil's triangle and the creatures that lurk within it.

Your ship was small and Conner was the captain. He had said he was "programmed" with the knowledge to sail but that didn't ease your worries. You tried to leave after hearing what he said but he was already sailing away from the pier, the team shrinking from your sight.

Finally, your stomach decides enough is enough and it releases your breakfast into the water below.

Conner rubs a soothing hand on your back and you relax into his gentle touch. You turn around pushing your head into his chest letting his arms wrap around your back easing away your fears and anxiety.

Lighting strikes about you with a loud crack. You jump in Conners's arms and he looks up at the sky. It is now you notice the dark clouds that loom above you. Suddenly you grow very aware of the state you are in. Out at sea in the Bermuda triangle with a storm about to commence. Thunder ripples through the clouds and a bright flash of blue lights up the dark sky.

Rain patters on the deck of the boat and you and Conner both scurry into the shelter as the rain grows heavy. Thunder booms and lighting follows all while the rain drenches the deck. The soft sway of the boat turns into a lurching rock that doesn't ease your already upset stomach. The waves crash up around the side of the sip. It looks as if the ocean is trying to jump onto the boat, some harsh waves accomplish this and flood the once dry floor. Conner is gone from you now trying to save you both from the harsh waves swallowing up the ship. Your boat seems to sink under the waves letting them tower above you looming up high before they crash down on you.

You can no longer distinguish ocean from rain. All you see is water around you that threatens to swallow you up. The once soothing sound of oceans played to help people fall asleep is now so loud you wonder how anyone could find it soothing. More waves hop over the rails drenching the ground outside and you wonder if this is the way you will go. You wonder why you agreed to do this. You wonder why you ever ran from your Earth. You wonder why you ever came here. You wonder until you can't wonder anymore.

~~~~

The ground is hot underneath you, the sound of squawking birds fill your ears. Opening your palms you can feel sand in your hands, Your eyes fly open and you take in your surrounding. You lay on a white sandy beach. Turning your head you can see Conners sleeping form next to you.

Shaking him relentlessly," Conner wake-up!" you yell.

Conner opens his eyes slowly but once he settles on you and the serene behind you he sits up quickly looking around at the ocean threatening to grab him. "Where are we?"

"I don't know." You both stand up shaking the sand off your bodies. The ship you were once on is perched on the sand not far from you.

Walking up to it Conner fiddles with the large machine before deciding its broken. You decide to leave Conner with the ship and venture into the tropical jungle on the other side of the beach. You look around at the surrounding trees and vines. Bushes rustle as you pass but you can never catch a glips of any animals. A large palm tree looms above you, at the top, you spot some coconuts. You decide to head back to conner and get him to climb the tree to fetch you guys some coconuts. When you get back to the recked ship you can feel his frustration. As soon as you get close you can hear him cursing in his minds. You try not to use your powers to read Conner's mind because you know you don't like it but he is almost projecting his thoughts onto you. You come up behind him and place a hand on his shoulder. He sighs looking at you you decide to here give him a quick kiss before telling him about your discovery.

"I found some coconuts on a tree back in the jungle can you climb up there and get some?"

"Of course." He smiles at you before kissing you again and you lead him to the tree. As you pass the rustling in the bushes doesn't stop. COnner seems to notice to and looks around each time it happens. He follows behind you on the narrow path. The rustling gets louder and you hear a shriek come from behind you. "Monkeys!"

You whip around thinking a monkey has attacked conner. A small little chimp sits on a branch looking at Conner who has retreated backward against a tree. ANothe Monkey crawls from the tree he leans on and puts a hand on his shoulder he yelps again and runs behind you as you burst out laughing. You know that Conner doesn't like monkeys but he doesn't like a lot of things. You shrug him off and go up to the chimp, "Hi little guy."

"Y/N stay away from that thing." Conner tries to grab your hand and pull you away but you move away from him. "C' mon Y/N lets go."

you sigh and continue down the path. Conner jumps every time a bush rustles or a twig breaks. You laugh at how scared he is until you come to the patch of palm trees. Conner grabs on and climbs the tree. You are surprised at how fast he is able to scale the large tree. When he gets to the top you notice a couple of the cute little chimps who poke their head out. You look around and notice the hundreds of little heads watching conner at the top of the tree and can't help but get a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. "Hey, Conner babe I think you should come down!"

"It's fine Y/N," he shouts back down to you and you let it go. He grabs one of the coconuts and yanks it off the tree. As soon as he does the herd of monkeys race up at him. He shouts and let's go falling down from the tree.

"Conner are you okay?" you ask as he lays on the ground.

He gets up quickly tucking the coconut under his arm, "Run."

You both sprint down the narrow path as the hoard of monkeys race behind you. You sprint until you can see the beach coming into your vision. Some of the monkeys leap at the coconut in Conners's arm but he moves it away dodging their attempts. You both jump out of the jungle onto the hot sandy beach and the chimps screech at you from the treas. The stay in the jungle and you and Conner laugh victoriously from the beach. You both take the coconut back to the ship and conner cracks it open. You drink the coconut water and Conner eats the meat of it.

~~~~

When you both had gotten sick of coconut you decide to build a fire. On the beach, you gather some twigs and logs and make a pile. Using some alcohol and a lighter that you found in the ship you are able to start the fire. You sit beside it until it starts to get dark. You leave the fire going all night while you both sleep in the ship. You both curl up on the small bed in the boat.

When morning comes you forget that you are shipwrecked on a deserted island. You curl into conner for a little longer until he wakes up. When he does he restarts the fire to alert any passing planes and you both decide not to go back into the jungle and that you would take your shot at fishing.

The boat didn't have any fishing rods so you watch from the beach as a shirtless Conner jumps around in the water attempting to grab a fish with his bare hands. "Y/N, come help me!" he yells from the ocean. You sigh and trudge into the cold water next to him. The water goes up to his pecs but it goes up to your shoulders. When you start to see some fish swim at your feet you both dive down trying to grab some but the all swim around you not even gracing your fingers.

After the fourth time of trying to grab fish, you get bored and splash Conner. His once dry face now has water running down his pouting face. You giggle at him and he splashes you back. It turns into a water fight. You are both splashing each other. Your hair is soaking wet and you tackle him into the water fully submerging you both. You wrestle around in the water till it isn't wrestling. It starts with you quickly pecking him on the lips. When you try and pull away he holds your head in place and kisses you again.. You can taste the salty water on his lips and you smile into the kiss. He grabs under you legs lifting you up for you to wrap your legs around his waist. You shiver when the soft breeze blows the cold water droplets on your body. Your kiss is interrupted by the familiar laughing of Gar. Conner drops you in the water and you look over at the bioship that had magically appeared above you.

Nightwing pops his head out of the open hanger with a megaphone, "Hey we are here to save you." He pauses for a minute, "We can go if you want to continue,"

"NO!" you and conner both shout.

The ship pulls around landing on the small beach in front of you blowing some of the sand underneath it. You both trudge out of the water and grab your stuff out of the wrecked ship and run into the ship. The team sits inside the ship  Snickering. You roll your eyes and scowl at Nightwing you avoid your gaze. You plop into your seat next to conner. Your wet clothes squish when you sit.

You mumble, "I am never going on a boat again."

[lastbluetardis]

Chemical Potential (5/11)

Summary: Slightly homesick and stressed about her abysmal chemistry grade, Rose Tyler meets quirky James Smith, the boy who sits in front of her in their chemistry class. They become fast friends as James makes it his personal mission to help Rose get through the semester.

Ten x Rose University AU

This chapter: ~4400 words, light teen

Notes: This was written for the lovely @thegreenfairy13 as part of the @dwsecretsanta gift exchange.

AO3 | Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | epilogue

She was in love with James Smith.

That daunting realization infiltrated her every thought for the rest of the day. Rose was surprised her manager didn’t yell at her for being so distant during her work shift, though she was moved from the register to the produce section after she’d nearly forgotten to accept a customer’s cash and was about to let them leave without paying for their fifty-dollars’ worth of food.

Cursing to herself, Rose tried to shove all thoughts of James bloody Smith out of her head so he wouldn’t be the reason she lost her decently-paying job, the job she desperately needed. But no matter what, he kept cropping back into her thoughts. The way his hand felt in hers. The way his hair stuck out at all angles because he couldn’t seem to stop running his fingers through it. (How she wanted to run her fingers through it.) The way he wore trousers that were far too tight but gave a delicious view of his legs and bum…

“Dammit,” Rose hissed as she realized she’d been stocking various types of apples all in the same crate.

Her coworker watched her with some amusement and mercifully came over to help her sift through the mess she’d made of the apple display.

It was a relief to clock off and go home for the night.

It was not a relief, however, to go to school in the morning.

She waited nervously in their chem lecture for James to arrive, wondering how the hell she was going to keep her head once he’d plonked down beside her. Once he smiled his beautiful smile at her. Once his soothing voice told her all about what he’d gotten up to on Sunday. Once his delicious smell pervaded her senses…

But as the professor strode into the lecture hall and began speaking, there was no sign of James. Rose didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed, but soon she didn’t have time to be either of them as she took page after page of notes on the lecture of quantum mechanics.

The fifty-minute lecture flew by, and when the professor released them for the day, Rose was worried that James hadn’t shown up. She grabbed her phone to text him, but saw a text from him instead.

I caught some sort of bug. Won’t be in today.

“Oh no,” Rose typed, adding the frowny emoji. “Get well soon!”

She then chewed her lip and typed, “I missed you in class.” She sent that text before she could overthink it, then she shoved her phone deep into her jacket as though that would alleviate any embarrassment that might come when she inevitably regretted that text message.

She made her way to the library, where she would be content to spend the next two hours. She didn’t have much homework, so while a tiny voice chastised her for not using the free time to study, Rose perused the fiction section for a book to read to pass the time. It had been ages since she’d read for fun.

She got lost in the novel, barely pulling back to reality in time for her noontime class. She hastily checked out the book so she could finish it later, then she jogged across campus and snuck into the classroom just as her Art of the Renaissance professor began speaking.

Rose had forgotten all about her text to James until she got home that night and grabbed her phone to input a project deadline into her calendar app.

Two messages were waiting for her. The first had been sent promptly in reply to her own. I missed being in class too. You’re a great table mate.

The next was time-stamped thirty minutes ago. I’ve got the bloody flu. He’d sent a series of emojis, ranging from the angry cursing face to the crying face to the sick face. I probably won’t be in for the rest of the week.

Her heart clenched, not only in sympathy for him, but more selfishly that she wouldn’t see him at all until next Monday.

“That sounds awful,” she replied. “I hope you feel better soon. Drink lots of fluids. Stay hydrated. Get some rest.”

He replied instantly.

I napped all afternoon and still feel exhausted. My body hurts. Breathing hurts. Existing hurts.

“Not at all dramatic, are you?”

Have you no pity for the dying?

Rose burst into giggles.

“I highly doubt you’re dying,” she said. “But if you are, I promise I’ll give an excellent eulogy at your funeral.”

What a comfort.

How was class?

“You picked a hell of a week to get the flu,” she said. “It’s the quantum chapter.”

Crap. I’m sorry.

“Why the hell are you apologizing?”

This is a complicated unit and I’m not gonna be there this week to study with you.

“I had meant that it’s a complicated chapter for YOU to miss out on,” she said. “Though I appreciate your selflessness and chivalry in thinking about me.”

The little dots that indicated he was typing a reply popped up. Then disappeared. Then popped up again.

After a few minutes, he finally said, Oh, I’m a very quick learner. I’ll bet I could already teach this stuff.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Forget what I said about being selfless and chivalrous. You’re quite egotistical and arrogant. Not sure how your neck is strong enough to support your inflated head.”

James sent back the crying with laughter face. Then he said, In all seriousness though. If you need help, or want help, you can give me a call. Or text me. Or we can video chat. Though perhaps not today or even tomorrow. I’m quite exhausted.

“Don’t you worry about me,” she replied. “Focus on getting better. I’ll be fine.”

Okay. The offer still stands though.

But I’m about to pass out again. I’ll text you later. ‘Til then, Rose Tyler.

“Sleep well.”

oOoOo

While Rose was disappointed about James’s absence, she thought maybe it was a small blessing. It gave her a week to get over the ridiculous notion that she was in love with James, and to figure out how to force her brain to think of him as her friend.

She hoped that the longer she went without seeing him in person, the more her nerves would settle back to what they’d been before their trip to Philadelphia.

But she didn’t take into account their texts.

They spoke daily, and their conversations were rife with teasing banter that most certainly skated the line of flirting at least 99% of the time. Rose found herself looking forward to their nightly chats and was impatient to see him in person again.

The weekend finally arrived, and that Saturday, James texted, So I’m feeling loads better, and I’m not contagious anymore. Wanna meet up tomorrow and work on stuff? I’m going stir crazy sitting around my home.

“Sure,” she said, her heart thudding with the anticipation of seeing him. “I get off work at noon. Wanna meet in the library at twelve-thirty?”

Sounds good.

Rose was impatient for the rest of the weekend to go by, and when Sunday dawned, she packed her school stuff to take into work with her.

But she’d forgotten to bring more than her breakfast bagel, and by the time she’d clocked out and caught the bus to the university, she was starving.

James was waiting in the same study cubicle they always used, and she was disappointed that he hadn’t brought his usual hoard of snacks.

His face lit up when he saw her, and he jumped up from his chair. His face was a tad pale and gaunt, and he’d definitely lost a bit of weight, making his lanky frame look bonier than usual. But his eyes were bright and dancing as he skipped towards her, arms flung open.

She raised her arms just in time for him to crash into her. She clung to his shoulders as he lifted her up off her feet in a crushing hug.

“Oof,” she grunted when he gave her a tight squeeze. But it felt nice, so she returned the squeeze and buried her nose into the collar of his shirt. His scent filled her lungs, making her feel so at home.

“I missed you,” he crowed into her ear before setting her on her feet. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in years!”

“We texted every day,” she reminded him, but cursed herself when his smile slipped. She grinned at him, then bumped her hip against his. “But I missed you, too. Chemistry lecture was very lonely. I nearly moved seats to find a new table mate.”

“Rose Tyler!” His voice went high in indignation. “Am I that replaceable?”

“‘Course you are,” she drawled. At his pout, she gave him a wink. “Oh, you know you’re my favorite table mate.”

His cheeks pinkened.

“So,” she said quickly, “chemistry.”

He bobbed his head in a nod. “Chemistry. Shall we get to it?”

Rose plopped down in the seat beside him, and together, they poured over the homework sets that were due the next day.

It took nearly an hour to finish, and by the time they were done, Rose’s stomach was growling and gurgling nonstop. James had either not heard it, or pretended to not hear it. But as they slipped their finished homework into their respective folders, he said, “Y’know, I’m kind of starving. For something that isn’t soup. Wanna go grab lunch somewhere?”

“Yes please,” Rose said immediately. “I barely even ate breakfast this morning.”

“Where shall we go?” James mused as he unceremoniously stuffed his school things into his backpack. “Ooh! Wawa!”

Rose blinked. “What-what?”

James laughed. “Wawa. It’s a sort of fast-food place. You’ll see. Come on.”

He took her hand and threaded their fingers together as he guided her out of the library. They walked hand-in-hand across campus to the lot where he’d parked his car. She settled into the vehicle and let him drive her to whatever a Wawa was.

It was a petrol station.

Rose frowned at him, but he explained, “Food’s inside.”

James led her into the store front and to the kiosks where several customers were tapping away on the computer screen. They waited their turn, and when they stepped up to the computer, James said, “Just select whatever you want to order. They’ll make it, and call your number. Simple.”

He was quick with his order—he’d obviously been here before and had a favorite—but she slowly examined all the options, before building herself a chicken Caesar wrap. Rose had to admit the convenience of it was nice; she could pick out exactly what she wanted, all without even socializing with another human being.

“An introvert’s dream,” Rose said as they waited for their food.

“Indeed. I’ll have to take you to Sheetz sometime,” he said. “It’s very much like a Wawa. Both are specific to the east coast of the US, and they’ve got a bit of a rivalry going on among the locals as to which is better.”

“Which do you prefer?” Rose asked.

“I, unlike the majority of people, have no preference,” he said. “It’s all a bit ridiculous, in my opinion, but it can be entertaining to see people get up in arms about it.”

They got their lunch and headed back to the university to continue studying in preparation for the exam in three weeks.

oOoOo

The next three weeks passed in a blur. Somehow, it seemed all of her professors wanted to give their exams at the same time, and Rose frantically tried to balance all of her schoolwork on top of itself.

James was a saint, and happily worked around her schedule. When she asked if he needed any time to himself to study for his own exams, he replied simply, “I’ll study for my other classes on the days you study for yours.”

Weekends became their days to hole up in the library together and work on chemistry. Rose asked her boss for at least the afternoons off until this latest round of exams was over, and she was relieved that her boss obliged without a fuss.

The weekend before the second chemistry exam, Rose’s brain felt like mush. She’d had three other exams that week, and all she wanted to do was unplug from school. But she couldn’t, not without feeling guilty that she wasn’t working as hard as she should be.

It’s not healthy to over-work yourself, James had texted when she told him how she felt. If you want to take this weekend to recharge your batteries before the exam on Monday, that’s completely fine, Rose.

“I would if I was confident about the exam. But I don’t. I don’t know what to do. My brain is screaming at me that I’m unprepared, but it’s also screaming at me that I’m exhausted. Help.”

Maybe take Saturday to yourself? he suggested. Then we’ll bear down on Sunday?

“I need as much help as I can get. This exam MUST go better than the first one did.”

It will, he replied soothingly.

Rose huffed out a sigh and dug the heels of her palms into her tired eyes.

They did indeed meet up both days that weekend as Rose tried to cram as much information as she possible could into her strained brain. When she got home on Sunday night, she was exhausted and a little dejected. She still wasn’t confident in her knowledge of the material that would be on the exam.

But nevertheless, she went to bed early to get as much sleep as she could, and she made sure to eat a good breakfast before catching the bus into school.

The lecture hall was already packed when she got there, full of frantic students flipping through their notes. She tried to ignore them, lest their antics give her more anxiety than she already had, and she instead plopped into the chair beside James. He was slouched in his seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him, as he absently flipped his pencil end over end.

“Ready?” he asked when she’d pulled out her own pencil and a calculator.

“I’ve got no other option, do I?” she replied, her heart beginning to race with panic.

“It’ll be fine,” he said soothingly. “We’ve worked so hard at this. It’ll be fine. Just stay calm and work immediately on the problems you know how to do. Save the ones you’re uncertain with ‘til last.”

He continued his pep talk, and Rose tried to let the sound and cadence of his voice relax her as it usually did. But nothing he said helped, and soon her hands were trembling and her breakfast was a hard rock in her belly.

The professor strode into the lecture hall and barked at everyone to put their notes and phones away.

“And if I hear anybody’s phone go off during the test, they automatically get ten points knocked from their score,” she warned, scanning her eyes across everyone in the room.

Rose double checked that her phone was completely off before stuffing it into a pocket of her backpack.

When everyone was settled, the professor passed out the exams. James rested his hand on her thigh, and Rose nearly jumped out of her seat at the contact. His palm was warm through her jeans, and his thumb idly stroked her leg.

What the hell?

“Good luck, Rose,” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth, right as the professor told them to begin. He gave her leg a squeeze, then took his hand back to open the first page of his test.

Stupid bloody fucking James!

Rose took a deep breath to calm her racing thoughts as she forced her mind to focus on chemistry and the problems on the pages in front of her rather than how it had felt to have James’s hand on her thigh.

The sounds of pens and pencils scratching against paper filled the room, and Rose once more took a calming breath before she began to read her test.

The time went by in a blur of numbers and chemicals and panic. She was barely aware of James when he stood up out of his chair to hand in his exam after only a half hour.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

Rose was near tears when the professor called out that there were five minutes left, but she still had several blank pages. She blinked them away and began writing the first things that came to her mind when she read the problems.

It was both a mercy and an agony when the professor ordered them to turn in the exams. On one hand, she was done. On the other, she didn’t think it had gone well. But there was nothing she could do about it now.

Her hand and back were aching as she walked out of the lecture hall and towards the doors.

“Oi, you were just gonna leave me here?!”

She squeaked when a familiar hand wrapped around her bicep.

“James! I thought you would’ve left by now. You finished ages ago.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to wait for you. So what did you think?”

She shrugged and hummed noncommittally, but said, “If it’s all right, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“That’s fair.” He beamed. “We’re finished!” He opened up his arms for a hug, and it was second nature to her by now to lean into his chest. “No matter what, it’s finished, so you can stop worrying.”

“Well, at least for another month ‘til exam three hits.”

“Don’t be such a downer,” he said, poking her ribs. “Now what? My next class was cancelled so I’m free for the rest of the day.”

Rose thumbed behind herself to her backpack as she said, “I brought my camera. I’d planned on taking some photos of campus to help me relax from this ordeal. Wanna come with me?”

He nodded eagerly, and she linked her arm through his and walked outside. The frigid November air bit at her nose, making it sting and burn. It was a gorgeous day, otherwise. The sky was a deep, clear blue with no clouds in sight, and despite it being the beginning of November, there were still quite a few colorful leaves on the trees. They shimmered like glittering jewels in the late morning sun.

Rose breathed in deeply, inhaling the fragrance of autumn.

“This is my favorite season,” James said from beside her.

“Mine too. Everything’s beautiful. Spring is my next favorite, because everything’s so colorful and fresh.” She paused for a moment, then asked, “Does this area get much snow in the winter time? London rarely got anything more than an occasional dusting.”

“It all depends,” James said. “Last year, we got a huge blizzard at the end of January. But the year before that, we hardly got anything. Winter is fickle around here. But yeah, there are usually a few snow or ice storms. I’m sure that’ll be pretty to photograph.”

“I can’t wait,” she said. She guided him to one of the abstract statues on the edge of the walkway, and rested her backpack on the base of the statue. She rifled through her bag and gently lifted out her camera.

“Wow, that’s a beauty!”

Pride shot through Rose as she slipped the strap around her neck.

“This was a gift to myself,” she said. “When I finished my A-levels. It’s the most money I’d ever spend on myself.” She turned the camera on, and when she fiddled with a few settings, she pointed it towards James. “Smile.”

He grinned, and her heart clenched at the sheer joy on his face as she froze that expression in time.

Pleased with the photo, she turned around and took a photo of a wooden bench, its paint peeling from age.

“Let’s get higher up the mountain,” James said. “There’s a perfect view from the physics building.”

Their hike up the campus was slow as Rose snapped photos of anything that snagged her artistic interest. Some photos were crap, and she would delete those later, but she was pleased with other ones.

James was more than happy to model for her, and even when he wasn’t striking a pose, she managed to get a few candid shots of him. Those were her favorite, when she caught him unawares. She loved capturing his essence as he gestured wildly with his arms, deep in a rattling explanation of something. As his tall, lithe body moved fluidly as he walked. As the chill air frosted in front of his lips whenever he breathed. As the sun sent flares of red and gold through his rich brown hair.

She fell a little more in love with him as she photographed everything that made him James.

Thankfully, he seemed to be utterly unaware.

“Look at that, Rose Tyler!”

They’d made it to the physics building, an old stone building that looked more like a castle than an academic building. She ignored the view in favor of photographing the beautiful architecture.

But when she turned around, her lungs hitched. The view was perfect. The university sprawled before them, and beyond it was the sleepy little city it was nestled within. The buildings shone in the brilliant sunshine, and all around, trees were shot through with reds and yellows and browns.

“Not bad, eh?” James said smugly.

“I suppose it’s all right.” But her tone fell short of indifference at the sheer awe she felt in this moment. She turned to him and smiled. “Thank you for bringing me up here. Even if my thighs are killing me.”

“Imagine hiking this path every day,” he said with an exaggerated shudder.

Rose turned away from him to snap a few photos of the view. Then she played with a few settings, and said, “Can I take a photo of you?”

“You haven’t asked to take any of the other billion photographs you’ve been snapping of me.”

So he had noticed. Oops.

She just shrugged and backed away a few steps to get the best angle for the shot.

oOoOo

That night, Rose was inordinately pleased with all of the photographs she’d taken of campus. She’d moved everything to her laptop, and was sprawled on her sofa in her pajamas as she sifted through the ones she wanted to keep and edit.

She found herself staring at the photos of James more than she probably should have. But she couldn’t help herself. He was beautiful, and he really made for a wonderful photography model. His entire being was so expressive, from the way he held his body to his multitude of facial expressions.

Just as she was saving her work for the night, her phone buzzed. James.

So… I had a thought.

Rose smirked at her phone, and waited for him to continue. But after five minutes and still nothing, she asked, “And are you going to share this thought or were you just making a generic statement that you do, indeed, think?”

Smartarse.

So we just took an exam.

(Which I’m sure you nailed, btw.)

And we’ve been working so hard that I thought we should take some time to relax. Not put too much time into studying as much.

Rose’s stomach sank. Was he trying to tell her he wanted a break from her? Had she become too clingy and desperate? Oh, God, did he realize she was head over heels in love with him and he was deeply uncomfortable with her blatant flirtation?

She didn’t know what to text, because her brain was empty except for the crushing mortification and sadness.

A minute later her phone dinged.

Tomorrow’s election day. And I have a little tradition for election nights.

I order pizza and drink wine and play some sort of game whilst watching the results.

The band around her chest slowly eased, and Rose waited to see if he was actually implying what she thought he was implying.

So, Rose Tyler… how would you like to have a sleepover?

A sleepover? A sleepover. Oh. Oh!

Her cheeks warmed.

We could crash at my house and gorge ourselves on pizza and… hang out.

Rose stared at the little ellipses in front of ‘hang out’. Was that supposed to be a euphemism?

God, she wished she were in the same room as him to get any clues at all about his intentions from his body language. Was he all cocky smiles and wiggling eyebrows, or was he stuttering over his words and red-faced as he made a mess of his hair? Did he mean for them to simply hang out, or to… hang out and have a sleepover?

Rose didn’t think James would be the kind of bloke to ask her to come over for a mindless fuck, but…

Only if you want to, of course. I’ve got a spare bedroom you can crash in. But if you’re not comfortable spending the night with me, I totally get it. I could drive you home after the results. Or we could hang out at your place and I’ll leave after the results are over.

Oh, blimey! Or you don’t even have to say yes! I’m sure you’ve got loads of other assignments to catch up on. If you wanted a quiet night to yourself that is totally 100000% okie dokie just let me know.

Rose giggled at her daft James. Of course he wasn’t asking for a one-night stand. Ever the gentlemen. She was ashamed that a tiny piece of her brain even considered the notion that James would ask for such a thing.

Now, about his offer. What did he mean by it? Was this something special? Like a date?

Or was she simply reading too much into this, and it was just James being James, asking her to hang out as friends.

A mate-date, she remembered fondly.

She had to admit, it would be nice to relax with James without the stress of chemistry. Even if she wished it was an actual date-date instead of a mate-date, she couldn’t say no to spending time with the boy who had inexplicably become one of her closest friends.

“Pizza and hanging out with my best mate?” Rose typed, her chest warming with anticipation. “Sounds like a great night to me.”

His reply came immediately in the form of five grinning emojis.

[cherry3point14]

Mine: Ch4 - ME

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: Little fluff, little angst, smut adjacent, violence. Word Count: 5,839. Chapter Summary: Dean finally had everything he wants. A/N: Choo choo. The crazy train has finally left the station.

Ao3 if you prefer

In the morning you’re there. You, backlit by the warm glow of the lamp we left on, fill my vision. You’re more than I thought I would ever get, you’re more than I deserve, and yet here you are. In my bed, with me.

It’s been six weeks since our first date and you’ve been more or less living with me for five weeks now. I’d be shocked at how easy it was but there must have been an upside to the whole post-Carl mourning thing. When I brought you back here, again, you already knew Sam and you’d greeted him like an old friend. You hadn’t scoffed at the windowless rooms or wrinkled your nose at the underground home I live in. You’d smiled. Your shoulders melted at the sound of the bunker door closing. I’m not sure you were even aware of it but you feel safe here and you like feeling safe.

In the beginning, you’d at least pretend you didn’t live here. You’d go home for days at a time and when you did that place felt a little less like home. I saw it. The house was colder, emptier. You moved about it robotically. It’s almost laughable leaving a place as big as the bunker and finding a one-bed townhouse too empty. I know why. It’s not the size of the rooms, it’s the way your voice echoes off the walls. I get it. I’ve understood you since our first date.

That night you’d told me the answers to as many of my questions as you could. You left New York when your mom got sick. At first, you’d never made friends in town because you crammed every second you had with her. I get it. I understand the greedy need to hoard time with a parent. It’s another one of those things we both share. But then she died six months ago. And in those six months, you’ve only made casual friends, the kind you knew their names and said hi to at the grocery store. Sometimes you’d go to dinner or book club but it’s all exterior bullshit. The people who know you almost as well as I do, the ones who you call because you miss them? They’re still in New York.

I hate that whenever you talk about New York it’s like you left a piece of you there. Makes me wanna get in my car and bring it back.

At least now I know the reason behind your choices. Why you ended up with Carl, why you suffered that dick at work. Hell, why you brighten up every time you skip down those stairs even if it’s just me and Sam here. You’re not just lonely like a bored housewife. You’re lonely to your bones. And you’d rather get your heart broken a hundred times than be alone.

I’m the cure, where your suffering all ends. I won’t take advantage of you Y/N, I won’t break you. I want you so I can look after you. I see who you are.

Now we’re here though. Two weeks ago I convinced you to really move in, which is fast, I get it. Sam can’t believe it and most of your stuff is in storage still, but it feels right. We feel right. Being together and having you here? I’m not worried anymore. I trust you because I trust us.

You sleep curled into me. On your side, your right side, snuggled against my chest with your legs tangled between mine. By morning you’ve moved but not far. Enough that your face is on the pillow next to me. With you in your spot, I get to enjoy watching your lips part and the slow, deep breaths you take. You’re perfect awake but in sleep you’re different somehow and I can’t take my eyes off you. Everything slows down watching you sleep.

Then, you stir. Sometimes it’s when I tuck stray pieces of hair behind your ears or sometimes it’s with the weight of my hand on your cheek. I can’t help touching you and I’ll never be sorry when you open your eyes, see me and smile dreamily.

“Mornin’” I love being the first thing you hear when you open your eyes.

Your smile gets wider and you untangle yourself to stretch your arms above your head, “do we have to get up today?”

Not the first time you’ve asked me that. Every time you do it gets harder to break your heart. Even superficially.

“’ Afraid so sweetheart,” you whine and I bring you back to me with a quick kiss to your lips. “But you haven’t got work till three so we don't have to get up right now.”

You smile against my mouth and lean into my touch. Your shoulder then neck, my fingers follow a blissful trail of your impossibly soft skin. Fuck, you’re too good. I'm convinced these mornings of ours are as close as I’ll ever get to heaven again. Last time I went it hadn’t agreed with me and now if I end up there when I finally bite the big one? Well, it won’t compare to this. Lazy mornings mapping every part of you. Sometimes the sex is slow and lazy and sometimes I bury myself in you till you scream. It’s always ours. It’s a bubble that only pops when the door opens.

Today is a playful middle. No brutal rush or lazy rock of my hips. Today is teasing, holding out as long as we can until fun becomes frantically chasing release. Then you’re begging me and I won’t let you go over the edge until you say it. Not until you answer my question, always the same one.

“Who do you belong to, baby?” My forehead pressed against yours and I've all but stilled against you. I’ll hold it all back until you tell me what I want to hear. No, not want. What I need to hear.

“You. Dean, please. I’m all yours.”

You might think it’s just sex. You might think it’s a possessive kink thing. I’ll let you think whatever you want because deep down we both know the truth. You can have everything you’ve ever wanted with me, as long as you’re mine. We're not slipping back into sleep so it’s barely a minute before you slip away from me. Although you never leave without a kiss and a promise. “I’m gonna grab a quick shower and then I’ll make you some breakfast.”

“You’re too good to me.”

You look at me like you're about to make the moment serious. As if you know all the things I’ve done for you and breakfast is just part of your debt.

But, you don’t know. And I’m not keeping track. I’d never keep score with you, there is no debt. I did what I had to but all that’s in the past. The present and the future is only you in my bed. Or you as you almost leave in nothing my shirt.

“I know I am. But you must have figured you signed up for this when you asked out a chef?”

I shrug against the pillows, I’d never really expected you to cook but you know know that.

“Nah, I figured there’d be more pie, to be honest.”

Your eyes flash and you pout playfully, “oh you asked for it, Winchester.”

“Hey dude,” Sam starts. There are only two ways this sentence is going to finish. Since it’s not my birthday I’m pretty sure we're not going to a strip club.

“I found us a case.” He finishes with that telltale smile. He needs a hobby. Or someone of his own. He gets bored too easily and he forgets that I have you. I get it but unfortunately, my face is already grimacing. “Come on dude. Two people dead in three days. Both of them with strange animal bites on their necks.” He even bends his fingers to air quote the word 'strange'. Loser.

“Vamps?” I don’t mean to sound so hopeful but bloodsuckers mean I won’t even be gone that long.

Sam looks back to his laptop as if the article he’s reading will actually say, vampires. “Looks like it.”

He sounds excited and hell, I wouldn’t mind a little mano e mano to blow off some steam. And a few days with Sam will do me some good. You’re the problem. As much as this is my life you are a new complication and it’s been the same story for the last six weeks. I can travel as far as I can but you’re still here. Pulling me back to you like a stretched out rubber band is connecting us. The drive back always feels like letting go, letting myself ping back to where you are. It’s dangerous to think about you while burning bones and gutting monsters. One day it'll get me in trouble.

Of course, it is easier now. Now I can call you, text you, and let myself grin at my phone when you reply. But still, leaving is the fucking worst.

“Pie number three is in the oven. I swear I’ll make you rue the day you accused me of not making enough pie… oh hey, Sam. You don’t mind if I kill him with pie, right?”

You bounce in with a plate in your hands which means number two finally cooled down enough that you’ll let me eat some. Sam looks up at you with a fond smile, “don’t you think he’s tried that himself over the years?”

“I don’t doubt he’s tried but I’ve got the moxie to really pull it off.”

I love that you and Sam are friendly like this. Maybe even on the way to being actual friends. You both accepted each other without argument. But I should put a stop to this particular conversation before you conspire long enough to put me on a diet.

“Ok, ok that’s enough. I don’t joke about your hopes and dreams.” The slice I take from your hands is cherry and you rock onto your toes while I take a bite. Only when the first mouthful makes me moan are you satisfied enough to relax.

“I hate to slow you down when you’re on a mission but we’re heading out on a case.” I deliver the bad news myself since I need you to like Sam.

You frown quickly. You try to catch yourself but it stills lingers on your face, “really?”

“’ Afraid so, sweetheart.”

“Well, since the next one is pecan will you at least take some for the road? If you don’t I’ll eat the whole thing and we don't all have your insatiable metabolism.” You whine a little from the chair next to me that you’ve slipped into. All the better to be closer before I leave.

“Pecan? I’ll take the whole thing.” You laugh into me so the sound vibrates my chest. Your hair is soft under my hand as I stroke it, still taking mouthfuls of pie with the other. “You sure you’ll be ok for a few days?”

“I’ll be fine. Go, save some people. I’ll still love you when you get back.”

You don’t seem to realize what you’ve said, or you don’t find it out of place. Maybe you’re not keeping track. But it’s the first time you’ve said that. So, naturally, I'm grinning like an idiot.

Sam waits the appropriate amount of time before he clears his throat, “I’m still right here guys.”

“And if you're lonely I know some nice girls I can set you up with.” You mumble without looking at him.

“I appreciate the offer.” He sasses back to you before fixing his eyes on me, “wheels up in thirty?”

“Make in an hour.” My girl just told me she loved me after all.

There’s a lot of clues I should have picked up on that something’s wrong when we get back. A half-eaten plate of food sitting on the table in the library, next to one of your books, is the biggest. It suggests you were mid-meal when you’d been distracted by something. This particular meal, still waiting for you with a fork left resting in it, is stone cold now. So, you’re not heading back from something at all. Wherever you are, you didn’t intend to be gone long.

I can’t help that I’m excited to see you after a two-day hunt that turned into three. Excited to see the recognition on your face when you see me, to know that you light up like that for me. I’m excited to see the girl who loves me. Excuse me for missing the goddamn clue.

Sam doesn’t question my long strides or fast pace. He knows I’m itching to see you. Especially since he’s sat in a car with me for the last six hours. He’d told me you were fine, safe in the bunker waiting for me but that hasn't stopped the nerves making me antsy.

So, each step is a little looser, calmer. My shoulders sink back into my body and I can feel the tightness of my face relax.

Because you’re behind that door Y/N. You’re waiting for me like you have done for six weeks. You’re waiting for me like I waited for you since day one.

Except I missed the clues so I’m not prepared for what’s actually behind the door.

You’re sitting in the bed and hunched over. Your legs are swung over the edge of the bed as if you fell in place from standing. Never realizing you’re uncomfortable twisted at the waist. I’m so blinded by the relief at seeing you again that I don’t notice what’s in your hands. Not at first.

I do see the tears. Red, puffy eyes and wet streaks on your cheeks. You lift your head to look at me with none of the bright light I've waited to be blinded by. It’s this confused mix of anger and sadness instead. That’s not how you’re supposed to look at me. Suddenly I want nothing more than to beat the crap out of whoever put that on your face.

“What happened?” I’m trying, fuck am I trying not to scare you. Although I can hear the growl in my voice and feel every muscle I have tighten in anticipation. I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone in the bunker. Even here isn’t safe enough for you.

You flinch away from my hand as I reach out for your shoulder. “Don’t touch me.”

And I don’t. I’ve never touched you without your permission. Yet without the distraction of you under my fingers I finally start to notice things. Like, say, the assortment of items strewn on the bed in front of you.

A hex bag. A wallet. A set of keys.

Or more precisely. The hex bag that could have saved your no good ex, the wallet of your sleazy boss and the house keys you lost five weeks ago.

I don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here. It could have been five minutes or five hours. At the very least it’s enough time for you have made some assumptions. They spill out of you without me saying another word.

“You looked after me when Carl… I know what he did but he didn’t deserve to that. But you-you looked after me. And when I came home and told you Steve was missing, that we’d all been interviewed by the police, you told me it was nothing. You said he’d probably skipped town. With-without his wallet? That you have?!”

“You don’t understand sweetheart, I…”

“I think for once I do understand. You’re a… god, you actually… you killed them and then lied to me about it.”

Angry I can fight with. Sad I can fix. But the betrayal in your voice? Damned if I know how to make that better.

You sway on your feet as you swing your body upwards in one swift, unstable action.

“Swee-” My hands are defensive and trying to stop your panic.

“Don’t you dare. I’m not your sweetheart. Never again. How can you think this will ever be ok?”

The click of the door as you open it stirs me out of my stupor. The dumb blindness that has me stuck standing and letting this play out clears. I don’t watch these things go by. And I won’t watch you leave.

You’ve left the door hanging open because you think walking out like this is an option. You think I love you enough that I’ll let you go.

It’s the exact opposite. I love you too much to ever let you go.

I catch up to you in a second and my hands have you in half of that. One hand over your mouth, because I know you’re a screamer, and a hand wrapped around your neck. I’d never squeeze enough to kill you Y/N I only need you to think I will. I need you to stop and realize that I’m doing this so we can work on this instead of giving up. We can’t give up.

“Honey, you’re gonna come with me and we’re gonna talk.”

I’m only trying to clasp my fingers tight enough to get you to cooperate and stop struggling against me. The fact that you collapse, unconscious in my arms, makes the whole thing easier.

Okay, maybe I hadn’t had your permission to do that.

There’s a room at the end of a random corridor. One of those places no one visits often, if ever, in the depths of the bunker. It’s a corridor littered with empty spaces, half-finished rooms, and useless closets. There’s a door that maybe was going to be a panic room or something. There are random pieces of comms equipment, an old leather sofa and walls thick enough to keep anything out. Or, keep anything in. It’s not soundproof but Sam won’t hear you from his room. I can barely hear you sitting outside the room. I’m waiting till you’ve stopped screaming for help before I go in and talk to you. I guess I didn’t figure it would take this long. The bottle of whiskey in my hands is getting emptier than I care to admit while I stare at the spot you’re standing in. Where you’re banging on the reinforced metal door and screaming. Out here it boils down to a soft thump and a quiet “help.” In there it’s furious, barely contained thunder. I get it. You’re mad. You don’t understand yet. But I’ve waited longer for less before. You’re still everything to me and I’ll wait till the end of time if I have to. I have all the time in the world. You’d passed out. It made me sick to my stomach to see you like that but it made it easier to get you here. To this room, this place, that not even my brother knows about. You gave me time. More than enough time to lock the door, go back to the library and clear up your plate. I dogeared the page in your book too because you hate losing your place, and tucked the thing in my back pocket. I hate it. Removing the trace of you like you don’t live here. Pretending you weren’t here to begin with. But I missed the clues before, that doesn’t mean Sam will miss them for a second time. At the very least it needs to look like you haven’t been here in a while. We need our time alone. Finally, it happens. Maybe I closed my eyes for a minute or maybe you gave up before I finished drinking. The ‘help’ that you’d screamed becomes something else. A pleading shout in there and whisper from out here, “Dean!?” I give it another minute. You should take a few more breaths now that you’re calm. You say it again, resigned, “Dean?!” Fuck, I still love it when you say that. I’m not, say, an idiot. I know that putting you in here, like this, is like trying to trap a storm in a box. A damn stupid idea. I took precautions, obviously. There’s a set of cuffs around your wrists. Not tight enough to pinch, never. But tight enough to keep your hands in front of you, for now, and make sure you’re not going to lash out when I open that door. Actually looking at you when I slip inside is worse than listening to you out there. I stand against the door so the illusion of escape isn’t tempting you to try anything. What I never expected was the way you slink away from me. Even if I'm across the room. Your eyes widen and you cower into the corner of the couch. Never taking your eyes off me, which means I don’t miss the way they swim with fear. “I’m not going to hurt you Y/N, I would never. Not really.” “How long Dean?” Your body, face, features might be scared of me but your voice is as hard as the metal at my back. “What?” “How long are you going to keep me locked up in here like a criminal? When you’re the one who.. how long?” I need to separate this version of you from the one who told me she loved me days ago. The only way I can manage that is by dragging my hand down my face, taking you out of my sight for a second. “This is temporary, we need time to talk. I had to stop you leaving.” Not letting an easy nickname slip from my mouth is a very conscious effort. I’ve already seen you flinch from me once today, I don’t need to see that shit again. “Temporary? We need to talk?” Each repetition sounds less like a question and more like bad news. You’re distracted enough by anger that you forget to be scared of me. You pick yourself up from the seat you’re in, shaking your wrists in midair. “I’m handcuffed. You put me in a choke hold Dean. You… you…” “I’m sorry. Please try to understand.” “Tell me you didn’t do it. Just tell me this is all some drunk nightmare and put me back in bed. Say the words.” You take another step, pleading through the metal on your wrists, “tell me you didn’t kill Carl. That you didn’t kill Steve.” The pause is long enough for you to figure out my answer. You know the answer already. “Technically the witch killed Carl.” A scream comes out of you, born in the depths of your soul, primal and painful. “Baby please, you gotta understand. I did it all for you. To protect you. Carl and Steve were bad news. You needed me to save you.” “SAVE ME? DOES THIS LOOK SAVED TO YOU, DEAN?” Your connected arms motion wildly to the red around your throat and shake the cuffs for extra effect. “Carl was a cheating assface but you know what most people do? They break up with the cheating assface not have them killed by fucking magic!” This is fine, it’ll be fine. You’re not calm yet. I tried to pull the band aid off too quickly. “You need some time. ’S fine. You’ll understand soon.” As my hand goes for the door your anger becomes fear. “No! Dean! Don’t leave me in here again. Please don’t leave me in here!” Closing that door on you, hearing the heavy lock followed by your dulled sobs, breaks my fucking heart.

The next few days are harsher than I could have imagined. You refuse to look at me, talk to me, or otherwise acknowledge my existence. The blanket I bring you to sleep with gets thrown off your shoulders whenever I come in. You know, in case I find out you’ve actually been using it to keep warm. You never rush for the food or drink I bring you, electing to wait till I’m good and gone before you admit defeat and eat.

You don’t get it Y/N, I'm trying to take care of you. I’m only trying to give you the time to get your head around this. God, I wanted to give you all the time you need but now my patience is starting to wear thin.

I’ve been sitting in the room on a wooden chair, leaning against the door for an hour now. The trick is to have a book to read but yours is in my back pocket again, all I need to do is wait out your boredom.

There’s this big exasperated sigh from your direction before you say anything. “Have I behaved enough to get these off yet?”

You’re holding up your wrists, which I can see are red and angry underneath the cold metal still tugging at them. “Shit, yeah.” I prepare myself for the flinch again. It’s a pleasant surprise when I make contact with your skin and you don’t move an inch. It’s not the same as when you’d lean into my touch, not yet anyway, but this is still good. We really can get there again, together.

“Thanks.” You’re tight-lipped and the word is clipped. It’s still progress. It’s still you talking to me more than you had.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” I try my luck, your icy reception to the nickname is better than it had been. “I didn’t mean to leave you in them so long, was waiting till you calmed down.” The cuffs get thrown on the desk across the room hoping that I can finally start showing you the way back to me.

You choke out a harsh laugh, “yeah, I’m the one with the problem. My boyfriend murdered two people and almost choked me to death. Sure, I overreacted.”

“But see you still called me your boyfriend.” I try my hand at being playful and I swear the corner of your mouth twitches.

“Would you believe me if I said I’m going crazy in here?” I know you inside and out so I know that you’re joking. Not only are you made of stronger stuff than that but the raised eyebrow says it too.

“Maybe I’ll bring you something to-” the end of my sentence gets lost in the blur that moves in front of me. You’re up, across the room fumbling with the handle of the door and pulling it open. My hand pushes the door closed again before you can get out into the corridor, “why’d you have to go and do that?”

You lean forward, defeated again. Your forehead rests against the cold metal that’s still held closed by my weight. “Because I don’t think you plan on letting me out of here Dean.”

“Of course I am. I still want a life together. I love you. That’s why I won’t put the cuffs back on.”

“You’re cooking? What did Y/N fall and hit her head?” I know Sam means it as a joke but he’s doesn’t understand that it’s too soon for jokes. I can’t laugh this off while you’re still locked in the depths of the bunker and we haven’t laughed together again yet. I’d love nothing more than for you to be here cooking with a smile on your face but you’re not ready to come out yet.

“Y/N’s not here.” I'm sick to my stomach lying about you. I wish I didn’t have to. Wishing is for suckers though.

Sam has one of his goddamn green smoothies in his hands, cold from the fridge, the sight of it makes me frown. It mirrors the frown on his face at you being gone. “Oh is she at work? She didn’t say she was working today.”

Days ago I’d have been feeling warm fuzzies that he cares this much about you, that he knows your schedule. I’d have been happy that the two most important people in my life are becoming important to each other. Now his questions are roadblocks. My throat itches with the lies I’m about to tell. “Actually, she went home for a while.”

“I thought she was moving in?”

“Yeah, well, she still had a few more weeks on her lease and we had a fight about some dumb shit. She’s cooling off.” Not a whole lie. In fact, none of it is really a lie. You do have a few weeks left on the house but I never said that’s where you are. We did have a fight, you are cooling off. Sam is going to piece the rest together from the way I’m staring into this pan of bacon like a sad sack of shit.

He wants to say he told me so, probably. He’s the one who asked us if we were moving too fast.

That’s not what comes out of his mouth. He lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes to let me know he’s there, “I’m sorry. I know you and Y/N were happy but I’m sure she’ll come back. She really seems like she loves you.”

I must look pathetic if Sam has gone straight to talking me down from the ledge. Despite myself, despite trying to contain myself, I can’t help the way I turn my head to him, “really? You think she loves me?”

Oh god, I am pathetic. Only for you Y/N.

“Are you kidding me? I thought you had a crush and then I saw the way she looks at you.” It’s innocuous in how casual he is. Sam sees it that easily. Black and white. While I’m standing here with a slither of a doubt, that maybe you’re not the one, he reminds me that you’re the only one. He reminds me of something I’ve forgotten after days of keeping you locked up. We're meant to be.

You love me Y/N. Not because your life has got so much better since I was in it. Not because I treat you like you always hoped you’d be treated. You love me because you see me. And you’ve seen me at my worst now, that version of myself I justified being to protect you. The guy who put hands on you, albeit temporarily, to stop you from hurting yourself.

Running would have hurt you. And by keeping you here instead you’ve seen all of me. Your hero, your boyfriend and now, your protector. You loved me before and if you still love me it’s only a matter of time till we’re fixed.

Sam smiles encouragingly. The one he saves for people who are freaking out while they explain the impossible thing they saw. He even looks down at the bacon in the pan like he’s happy that I’m happy, which is never how Sam looks at bacon. The food is for you but he can’t know that.

He stops as he’s halfway out the room. “Hey, I was going to head out for a few hours this afternoon, catch a movie, you wanna come?”

“Nah, Sammy. I’m good.” An afternoon where I won’t have to explain my disappearing act to Sam.

Sam’s been gone a few hours already and other than some time when I brought you lunch I’ve left you alone so far. I gave you your book and watched your face light up like it used to when you saw me. It’s a start so I didn't push anything. Left you alone to read. Slow and steady wins the race.

Now my brother will be home soon. I want to see you again before I have to eat dinner with him and pretend everything is above board. I need my fix.

Here’s the thing that I’m not expecting. The smile on your face when I walk in. It's half convincing me that I hit my head on the hunt and everything since has been a nightmare.

“Dean! Finally, I’ve been waiting for you.”

Your reception is everything I've been waiting for too. You’ve been in here almost five days now and the progress has been too slow. I was starting to worry that no matter how much I loved you maybe too much of you had been chipped away and yet, here you are. Dog-earing the page of your book and standing up to meet me. You’re shaking a little, rattled with nerves but there’s a smile on your face that tells me not to worry.

“I've been thinking and I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

“Sweetheart, what are you talking about?” I’m still being careful about touching you. Your hands are trembling by your sides like you’re worried about the same thing.

You take in this big breath, “I- I think I get it now. I was hurt before, about you lying to me, and I was shocked. But then I'm sitting here eating the food you brought me and reading my book that you’d saved my place in, and something clicked. I was scared you know? Not because of what you did but scared because honestly, you’re the first person who has ever loved me this much. You take care of me, you’ve always taken care of me. And I was afraid to let you do that because maybe I didn't believe I deserved you. It's weird to say considering everything but you're actually good for me."

I close the gap between us with a step and raise my hand to cup your cheek. You lean into my touch like it’s home. “But I pulled some shit. I killed people in your name. You’ve gotta hate me?”

I’m giving you an out Y/N. This one out.

“I don’t know if it’s possible to hate you. How could I hate someone who wants to look after me like you do? Dean, I love you.” You say it softly, a whisper, a secret. Through lips that are parting for me.

Leaning down to kiss you is everything I’ve wanted to do since I got back from that hunt. This once, I let myself have what I want. My other hand comes up to hold you so I've got your whole face in my hands while I taste you again. Your lips are as soft and inviting as I remember. Your tongue is eager and this kiss? This kiss couldn’t lie. This is how I know you’re still mine. You're my perfect fit.

And then metal closes around my wrists. You’re quick and you snap the cuffs until they hurt. I didn't know you were this good a fucking actress Y/N with your mouth still pressed against mine as you trap me in.

“What the fuck? Baby?” I splutter as I stumble a little, not far back enough. In the next moment, you raise a knee to my balls and holy fuck, there's so much anger behind it. You want to cause me pain. I can suffer it from evil sons of bitches trying to kill me but you?

“You’re a monster, Dean.” You bitterly spit in my direction as I sink to my knees. “Jesus, how I could I ever love you?”

That’s the last thing I hear before a wooden drawer is smashed over my head.

Continue to Epilogue

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer​