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for-your-modesty-dude · 21 hours ago

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As Long As You're There

A/N: AHHHHHHHH This is SO intimidating. My first ever fic posted. I don't feel like it's my best work, but if I don't post this now, I'm going to chicken out, and never write anything ever again. I hope you don't hate it, since I refuse to have my first piece beta read for fear of chickening out from that, too. So... no beta, we die like Jason. Feedback appreciated, but please be nice, LOL. I'm sensitive and very new to this. Love you all! - Hy

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, not beta read, tenses might jump around (i got nervy), generally nervous author, was supposed to be angst/fluff but I honestly don't know how to describe this one, folks

Synopsis: Eddie is sure Chrissy Cunningham is the girl for him. What happens when he is shown she's not?

It is undeniable. Eddie Munson thinks he likes Chrissy Cunningham - especially after that drug deal before the championship game back in high school. He doesn't really, though. Deep down, what it really boils down to is that he craves to be known and liked by the people who torment him. He sees kindness in her, and thinks that maybe - just maybe - if Chrissy can see past the flaws, even a girl like her could come to have feelings for a guy like him. After all, he's always been funny, charming, and larger-than-life. Sure, he talks a lot, he goes on emotional rants, and always has something to tease his friends about. And okay, maybe he's a little bossy. But at the end of the day, he's just a guy with a lot of affection to give and not enough friends to give it to. He tries, he does, to keep his temper tamed and attitude in check, but it's hard for someone with a past like his. He's a little angry at everything. He wants to get out of Hawkins, sure. But most of all, he just wishes he could feel normal. He likes being different, likes being who he is. But he doesn't like what comes with it. The jeering, the nasty looks, the fear - it's all so stupid. Because despite all of his attitude and temper and hardened look, Eddie Munson is a complete dork with a heart of gold. After all, the jocks and preps don't have a care in the world to take those who look like they've got no one and give them a place and a group to be a part of. No, only Eddie does that. He's done it since he was young, and even now, in his mid-twenties and having completed his Associate's degree to make his old man proud (the one who cared for him, not the one who left him), he still finds himself constantly looking out for people who may need a group. All the while, he keeps one eye open in search of Chrissy Cunningham - the girl who went off to college, got her fancy Bachelor's degree, and then, for some reason entirely unknown to Eddie, returned to her hometown to teach at the very same high school they'd both graduated from.

Eddie, meanwhile, had been stuck working at the auto shop since he'd graduated. Wayne had sat him down and insisted he needed to find real work, lest he get arrested for his extracurricular activities. The conversation, of course, had been prompted by Wayne finding a stash of pills his nephew had hidden (and then forgotten) in the bread box. He hadn't been happy, and had told Eddie he would not be going down for 'having them damn pills in my home.' Eddie had been a little embarrassed, but agreed to get a real job- so he'd chosen the shop. Luckily for him, it was in a perfect spot. It was on the street Chrissy Cunningham passed every morning on her drive to school, and every afternoon on her drive home. In the spring through the fall, she even walked most days - which gave Eddie the chance to say hello. He always tried to be as grease-free as he could, but some stains really just stuck, and he had a habit of wiping his face after changing the oil in his customers' cars... it didn't go well for him in the looks department.

What Chrissy thought of it, no one was the wiser. None of Eddie's friends really interacted with her. Half the kids were still off to college, Dustin being the furthest and at an Ivy League, so no one could spy or find information. Sure, El was still around, choosing to go to the local college with Max, but they definitely didn't speak to Chrissy. Mike, Will, and Lucas had their own college woes. And Steve and Robin... well, they'd gotten through community college too, eventually, but they stayed within their comfort zone. They didn't make new friends, and they certainly didn't hang out with the likes of Chrissy Cunningham. Nancy and Jonathan had done what they'd always said they'd do - they took the settlement money from the government and went to NYU together, staying in New York City to work at the Times, as journalist and photographer, respectively.

All of these things meant that Eddie was on his own. Except, of course, for his best friend. One of the craziest things about community college to him was that he met people from other towns. Imagine his shock when he met a girl there from a small town not 45 minutes away from Hawkins, studying music history for fun. He was a lover of music, sure, but he was taking the class for the sake of his liberal arts degree. This girl? She was finishing her Bachelor's at the local university and taking courses for fun at the local college. He'd found her fascinating, to say the least. It helped that she was, like him, a little different from the rest. They had similar (though not quite identical) music tastes, and fashion that made their conservative towns uncomfortable. It sparked an instant bond. He'd invited this girl out to Hawkins once, and they'd never looked back. They'd become inseparable. She'd moved out to Hawkins, somehow a nicer town than her own, especially as its commerce grew, and helped Eddie out of his slump. When Wayne had given him that talk, it was Eddie's new best friend who'd helped him nail the interview at the auto shop. It was she who helped him find his new apartment (conveniently a 5 minute walk away from her own), and it was she who listened as he gushed about good ol' Chrissy Cunningham.

So here you were, once again seated at the register at your job, listening to Eddie go on about Chrissy's outfit that day on her walk home from teaching at the school. Did it bother you? Absolutely not. There was no reason for it to bother you. He was just a friend. Your best friend. But... then why did your stomach sink whenever he brought her up? Why did your chest feel tight? Why did it feel hard to smile when he laughed about how cute she was when she'd dropped her purse, or whatever book she was carrying? Why did you-

The ringing of the bell above the door pulled you out of your spiral, if for but a moment. You looked up, never more grateful in your life than to see the likes of Steve Harrington, who'd been introduced to you early on in your friendship with Eddie. He was a good friend of yours now, and often came to visit you at work, as with the others who’d stayed behind, when they had the time. Often, he wanted to talk about the latest gossip to someone who wasn't Robin (after all, he couldn't very well tell Robin half of the things he experienced, because she was usually there to experience it with him). He gave Eddie a good, friendly slap on the back as he approached the counter, leaning his forearms on the counter and leaning forward to greet you. Eddie made a face, annoyed at having been interrupted, but not annoyed enough to voice it.

"Hiya, Stevie," you greeted him with a smile, eyes communicating your relief at his arrival.

"Hey!” He responded brightly, but your relief was short-lived, as Steve took this opportunity to smile suspiciously sweetly at you, "so, any chance you want to take my shift later?"

Your eyes narrowed at him, "so that's why you're here? To ask for a favor? Even though you still owe me for the last shift I covered?" He had the decency to look at least a little apologetic about that, and nodded.

"I swear I'll pay you back for both. But... remember that girl who's been coming in every week to see me? I ran into her today while getting lunch, and she actually agreed to a date tonight. I swear, I'll more than make it up to you if you just please help me out today. I'll beg, do you want me to beg?"

You put your hands up in surrender, "woah, okay. No need to tarnish your dignity like that. I'm good, I'll stay. It's not like I have plans anyway, so one of us might as well get a date. God knows we could both use the romantic luck," you rest your chin on your hand with a huff, and he thanks you about seven times before running back out, leaving just you and Eddie once again (and, well, the three customers browsing the aisles of the store).

"So..." Eddie started, trying to keep the conversation from awkwardness. "No luck on the dating front, then?"

You couldn't help but to shoot him a dirty look, before you rolled your eyes and sighed. "No. There's no- anyone in this damn town. No one interested, and no one interesting. Maybe I need to expand my horizons and take a road trip out to Indie," you huffed. Eddie shrugged, turning to lean his back on the counter as he continued chatting with you, picking at his nails all the while.

"I think I might ask Chrissy to go out tomorrow night. Think she'll say yes?" For some reason, the fact that your misery led to him talking about his hopeful date sparked anger in you, but you didn't let it show. Did you think Chrissy would go out with him? Maybe. She was so sweet, you didn't think she had any reason to say no. She'd give him a shot, at least. But that was the trouble, wasn't it? If she gave him a shot, she'd see how wonderful he was. And then, maybe, you'd lose him for good. Was that something you were cool with? It wasn't like you were together. It wasn't like he'd ever looked at you the way he looks at her. It wasn't like you were in love with him... was it?

That realization had you smacking your forehead lightly against the countertop behind the register, and Eddie turned around to look at you with a puzzled expression. "You good over there?"

You just managed a frustrated groan and the excuse, "just commiserating that everyone else has successful romantic lives and I'm stuck behind this register. Of course she'll say yes, she's too sweet to reject you, and you're awesome. Anyone who doesn't see my best friend's potential as a boyfriend is stupid and also rude." You finally looked up at him with what you hoped was a convincing smile. He couldn't help his own grin at that, feeling proud.

"It's totally settled, then. I'm going to ask her. What do you think she'll say to going to the new diner that opened up where Benny's old place was?" He asked, and you had to plaster on that fake smile again.

"Eddie, as long as you're there, she'll have a great time. Trust me." At least, it was true for you. If Eddie was present, you knew you’d have a great time. At least, most of the time. When he gushed about Chrissy, you had… less of a good time. But your compliment seemed to work, because he lit up like a christmas tree.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he gave you a beaming sort of smile, leaning over the counter to kiss your cheek. “I think I’m gonna go see if I can catch her on her lunch break. I’ll call you if it goes well!” He turned tail and ran, clearly excited. Luckily, he was gone so fast that he missed the way you deflated entirely.

You were happy for him, and would continue to be if he managed to date Chrissy. But it didn’t change that you’d be jealous of her. A relationship - especially with Eddie - was time-consuming and all-encompassing. He would spend his free time with her, and you’d be left behind. It was natural, after all. What girl would want her boyfriend hanging out with another girl one on one? The thoughts plagued you, until a customer called into the shop asking about whether a certain book was in stock or not. After that, your day managed to go by a little quicker.

You didn’t realize how late it had gotten until you were reading a book behind the counter and heard the bell ring as someone entered the store. Eddie slammed his hands down on the counter with a big grin, “guess what?” You peered up at him over your book and your heart sank, but you kept your expression clear for him.

“Hm… you’re a huge nerd?” You joked, and he made a face in response.

“She said yes! She’s actually going on a date with me!” His eyes were bright and excited. “She said she’s cool with diner food, so… tomorrow night, I’ve got a hot date with Chrissy Cunningham. Will you help me choose what to wear?” And he just looked so hopeful, that you couldn’t possibly say no to him. So you agreed, and he sat around with you until the end of your shift.

You wound up going back to his place that night, to help him in his search for an outfit. He even threw it in the wash so that he could smell good for his date. That night when you went to bed, you couldn’t help but to stare up at the ceiling and seethe for a few minutes, before letting sleep overtake you. Your dreams were the same as they always were - some shenanigans you got into with Eddie. Only tonight they held a different meaning, and when you woke up you were forced to reconcile with the information that was news even to you:

You were in love with your best friend.

You went into your shift early that morning, stopping for coffee at your favorite place before starting your day at the store. You were able to distract yourself then, as Saturdays were particularly busy days for book-buyers. You hadn’t thought about your revelation since you’d had it. You had refused to acknowledge it, in fact. Eddie was your best friend. And he was going on a date with Chrissy Cunningham tonight. There was absolutely no point in thinking any more about potential feelings that may or may not exist. So you spent the day working, and maybe pouting. A couple of your friends stopped by to say hi throughout the day, but noticed your demeanor and ended up just letting you mope.

Before his date, Eddie stopped by your job - and God, did it hurt. He looked so handsome. His curls were freshly washed and styled, his leather jacket hanging off of him like it was made for him, and his freshly washed jeans making him look more cleaned up than ever. When he opened up his jacket, he was proud to show off the button-up you’d helped him choose. ‘Dressy enough to be on a date, dressed down enough for jeans’ was what you’d told him. And his usual worn combat boots looked - almost good as new. When you asked about those, he was proud to say he’d spent his morning cleaning them with carpet cleaner and a toothbrush. Your heart ached that he’d never put that much effort in for you, not in that way.

Before he could leave, you approached him to fix his collar and a stray curl, making sure he looked his absolute best. You refused to meet his eyes for your own sanity, and if he noticed, he didn’t comment. He just let you work your magic, and when you finally stepped back, you gave him your most convincing smile, and wished him well. “Call me if you need anything at all. I’ll be home tonight, and tomorrow morning. I want to hear all about it,” lie. “She’s going to have a great time, not a doubt in my mind,” truth. “I’ll be rooting for you,” lie. “You’re gonna do great,” truth.

He smiled proudly, and thanked you before giving you a big hug. The smell of his good cologne (only brought out for funerals and weddings) threw you for a loop, and nearly strangled you, but you managed to squeeze him back. When he ran out with a quick “love ya!” you just fell back into your seat behind the counter for the last hour of your shift.

If you had any idea what was going on in Eddie’s head…

He’d only stopped by because he figured he should share in this exciting moment with his best friend. But something about your excitement had him feeling a little odd about the whole thing. And then you’d come up to him to help him straighten his shirt and fix his hair and you just wouldn’t look at him. He couldn’t understand why, but honestly, he was too focused on the fact that you were wearing your favorite perfume that day. He could tell you’d washed your hair that morning, too, because he caught a whiff of the shampoo you so loved. So when you didn’t look up and meet his eyes, he had to push down a weird feeling of disappointment. But he’d hugged you goodbye and you’d wished him luck, and that was that.

Or so he’d thought. He showed up to Chrissy’s to pick her up, a cute little townhouse near the center of town, and did all the gentlemanly things he was supposed to do. He’d brought her a small bouquet of daisies, and walked her to the car and opened her door for her - it was all pretty textbook. She smiled and laughed during the drive, and it had Eddie feeling like he was already on the right track with this girl.

Things did take a turn, though, when they actually got to talking after they’d ordered their meals. Because it would seem that Chrissy knew him better than he ever imagined she would.

“Can I ask you a question?” She’d asked him, hands folded in front of her as she leaned close in curiosity.

“Shoot,” he’d leaned back against the back of his seat, smiling.

“I know you mentioned yesterday that you’ve had a crush on me for years, and I found that so sweet of you, Eddie, but… aren’t you in love with - well… you know…” She didn’t say your name, but only because it felt a little major to bring up your name if he hadn’t considered it. But he blinked at her, puzzled, and she realized she had no choice. So she finished her question with your name, which made Eddie’s eyes go comically large.

“Sorry, what?” Was all he managed. His eyebrows slowly rose to his hairline, when she gave him a shy smile.

“Eddie… you hear yourself when you talk about her, don’t you?” She asked, a soft giggle in her voice. “I’m flattered, I am. And I think you’re really amazing, and would love to date you. But only if I thought you actually liked me. I’m not accusing you of lying, I just don’t think you realize just how you sound.”

Eddie was not a man often brought to speechlessness, but Chrissy’s question stopped him dead in his tracks. You? That wasn’t possible. You were his best friend. Comfortably listed in the “friends” category in his brain… or were you? Chrissy, sweet Chrissy, pointed behind him to the entrance, and said “oh, I guess her shift must have ended! She’s here now with someone!”

The speed at which Eddie whipped around to look was nearly breakneck. When he saw you were, in fact, not there, he turned back to Chrissy with a blush and an embarrassed look in his eye. She just gave him that warm smile and sweet giggle, “I’m sorry, Eddie. But that’s not something someone does for just a best friend. Have you ever thought about that?”

He took a moment to rewind and think about his conversation on the drive here. Admittedly, he’d told Chrissy a lot of stories about you. He started by telling her all about how he would gush to you about his crush on her, but then devolved into just telling her about the times you’d hung out, and the fun things you’d done together. When she’d mentioned a restaurant or fun activity, he’d talk about a time you’d discussed the same with him. So, okay, maybe he talked about you a lot. And sure, he had thought about how much he preferred your perfume over Chrissy’s when he’d picked her up at her place, but that didn’t mean anything, did it?

And then he thought about how he’d felt so off when you hadn’t met his eyes when fixing his date night outfit. He’d never voice that one out loud to Chrissy, but he’d wanted you to look up at him and smile, and see how handsome he looked. He’d tried hard. The more he thought about it, the bigger hole he felt he dug himself.

He blinked at her and groaned, burying his face in his hands in shame. “Shit. I think I’m in love with my best friend.”

Chrissy, to her credit, took it so sweetly. She giggled and just encouraged him, telling him he should tell you and get it out in the open. Eddie, however, was so afraid. Afraid he would be wrong about the whole thing and you wouldn’t be interested in him in return. It didn’t matter, in the end, because his date (and now friend) was rather persuasive, and convinced him to do it as soon as he saw you next. And before he knew it, he was paying for their date, and driving her home. He liked being friends with Chrissy, he realized, and didn’t exactly desire any more than that. He’d always wanted her to like him, and now he knew she did - in a more important way than romance. She liked him for who he was, and wanted him to be happy. She wanted to be his friend.

As soon as he dropped her off, she gave him a warning look and told him not to stray from his plan. It would work, and you’d be together in no time. He just thanked her and got back into his truck, driving home. His autopilot must have broken, however, because next thing he knew, he was pulling into the parking lot at your apartment. He sat there and stared at your door, the automatic light coming on and making his heart race. When he looked up, he saw the lights in your apartment were still on, signalling that you hadn’t quite gone to bed just yet. With his last hope of an excuse entirely extinguished, he got out of his car and stood at your front door for a few moments. Luckily, since you lived on the second floor, he got a minute to breathe before you saw him lingering at the door and freaked out about a stranger. So he took a chance, breathed, and did his special knock.

You had been wallowing in self-pity all night, watching your favorite romcoms and snacking on your favorite chips and dip combo. Anything to try and forget about the realization that you were in love with Eddie. It was the worst possible timing, really. After all, he’d been hopelessly single for so long. You had to realize the day he wanted to ask his longtime crush on a date? You spent a long while beating yourself up about that, but eventually accepted your fate and tried to think about literally anything else. Hence, movies and snacks. You’d even tried to pick up a book at one point, but you realized that even that had a romantic plot, and ended up throwing it onto your bed and returning to the movies. At least romantic comedies had comedy. You’d even cried during one of your all-time favorites, which was infuriating - you could hear Eddie’s teasing voice in your head about how crying over a dumb boy was so not metal. If only he knew. So naturally, when his signature knock came from your front door, you were puzzled.

You descended the stairs to the front door with your brows drawn together in confusion, opening the door in your pjs - soft pajama pants and a hellfire t-shirt you’d stolen from Eddie years prior. He was standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stared at the apartment number next to your door. “Uh… hi? Shouldn’t you be on your date right now?” You asked, but opened the door further for him to enter. He shrugged and toed his boots off before heading up the stairs, leaving you to lock up behind him and follow - more confused than ever. “Eddie, is everything okay?”

He fell onto your couch and pulled the bowl of chips onto his lap, putting a chip in his mouth just to avoid answering the question. But you were too stubborn, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips. “Edward. What the hell?” He finally looked up at you with his big brown eyes at that, and had the decency to look a little shy.

“‘M not in love with Chris,” he mumbled with his mouth full. You didn’t quite understand (or, you thought you didn’t) so you made a face at him, and he waited until his mouth was no longer full to repeat “I’m not in love with Chris. She’s- great. But I’m not in love with her.”

Your self-pity melted away for a moment at his ridiculousness, “Eddie, you’ve been on one date. You’re not necessarily going to fall in love over burgers, dude.” You looked at him like he was only slightly insane, which he appreciated.

“Yeah, no, I know that,” he tugged at a strand of his hair. “I know that. I just… I am in love, y’know? Just- not with Chrissy.” And if that doesn’t confuse you even further. Your chest tightens for a moment, but he’s not making any sense, and you really just need him to stop being so cryptic.

“Honestly, Ed, I have no idea what you’re talking about. Can you please just tell me what’s going on?” You sat next to him, facing him with your legs criss-cross. He refused to turn and face you, just setting the bowl of chips on the coffee table and staring down at his lap, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. You stared at him expectantly for a moment, and when he stayed quiet, you lightly punched his arm. “Speak, nerd.”

“Hey,” he finally pouted at you, rubbing his arm as if you’d punched him much harder. “I dunno! Chrissy had some enlightening shit to tell me. Apparently she knows me better than I thought she did. Actually, better than I know me. Which was super weird, by the way. I didn’t like feeling so exposed. But uh… She just opened my eyes. Turns out, I’ve been in love with someone for, like, a stupid long time.” When he stopped there, you almost punched him again, for leaving you on such a cliffhanger. He put his hands up in defense when he noticed. “Hey! Okay! I’m talking!”

He took a deep breath, “so, you won’t totally hate me for this, will you?” He felt he had to ask, and you made another face at him.

“I mean, depends on who you’re in love with. If you have really bad taste, then yeah. I might,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He gave you his most unimpressed stare and rolled his eyes, before tugging at his hair again, a nervous habit you found annoyingly cute.

“Uh- well. You, actually,” he said simply, with a nervous, almost self-deprecating chuckle. You blinked at him for a moment.

“I’m sorry, me? Me what?” You asked, the possibility simply not computing in your mind.

“You. I’m in love with you. Apparently been in love with you for awhile. Just didn’t notice because my head was too far up my own ass,” he said, finally meeting your eyes again, this time looking more sincere than he had in awhile. But you were skeptical, and afraid of having your feelings hurt.

“Eddie, where is this coming from? You’ve always had feelings for Chrissy. It was like, a fact, at this point. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Eddie Munson has a crush on Chrissy Cunningham. You don’t like me, you never have. Not- like that,” you told him, a little insecure. He didn’t really seem to have an answer except to lean over and kiss your cheek, his own cheeks bright red. Your eyes went wide and you stared at him for a moment, fighting your own thoughts. You stared at each other, equally wide-eyed, until you finally blurted out “I’m in love with you too. And it’s so weird because I never knew I felt this way until yesterday, and I finally understood why it irked me so much when you wouldn’t shut up about Chrissy.”

The admission caught you both off guard, and neither of you really knew how to respond. Eddie let out a curse under his breath before leaning in and capturing your lips in a hasty kiss, just quick and short but enough to have both of your hearts racing. You let out a squeak, and just stared at him again, before throwing your arms around him to hug him close, enjoying the smell of his shampoo, and his good cologne. You had no idea where this would take you, or if it would last. All you knew was that as long as he was there, you’d be just fine. As it turned out, Eddie Munson does not like Chrissy Cunningham. At least, not in the way he thought he did. He liked her as a friend, sure. But his real feelings could be found around the one person who’d been by his side since his first day of his music history class at the local community college. The girl whose nerd matched his, the girl who never needed him to be anything except what he was. A girl to whom he wasn’t too much, or not enough. Instead, he was just enough. Just loud enough, just obnoxious enough, just bossy enough, just funny enough, just clingy enough, just affectionate enough. And now that he had her for real, he would never ever let go.

#my writing #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #stranger things #x reader #hy's writing #chrissy cunningham #steve harrington #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #my fic

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tarohugs · 19 hours ago

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a million things i didn't say (l.jn)

► When Jeno proposes to you as a joke to get free ice cream, you can't help but begin to feel the butterflies in your stomach. You don't even have time to process the feelings before he's on one knee for someone who isn't you.

► childhood best friend!jeno x reader

► angst and some fluff (you know the drill)

► w/c 1.8k

► toxic jeno, very very sad ending (prepare your tissues), jeno is a bit insensitive at times, jeno proposing, reader ignoring feelings and being a bit dumb, annoying character stereotypes, jeno and reader making you want to rip your hair out, not proof read.

►a/n haven't posted in a while so hope this makes up for it. plz send recs i need inspo for writing.

When Jeno first proposed, it was to you. As a joke, of course. The typical things teenagers do in their free time. Right?

You met Jeno in your high school chemistry class and had clicked since. Some would mistaken you as a couple but you were always quick to deny the accusations.

Considering that most saw you two as a couple, you had decided to take advantage of your relationship spontaneously to get free ice cream. The idea wasn’t well prepared at all. Jeno had planned to propose in your local ice cream parlor and be rewarded with a sweet treat.

Well the two of you were clearly not aware how the plan would go.

“Are you sure this will work Jeno? Your ring doesn’t even look real.” You knew the plan was a dumb idea but you always listened to Jeno.

Yes, he was your best friend. Yet, you knew he meant more to you. He was one of the most special people you had met. You just couldn’t put a finger on what he was to you.

He laughed at you, his infamous eye smile sending butterflies to your stomach. “Don’t worry, y/n. I got this. Even prepared my special vows for you.”

You didn’t have a response to his sudden confidence, only a blush that scattered your cheeks. When he reached over you to hold the door entrance to the ice cream parlor, your stomach only dropped further into your stomach.

Has Jeno always been this attractive? How had you not noticed how tall he was before?

With all the thoughts rushing through your head, you had forgotten the main objective: free ice cream. That was all you were here for, not to develop feelings for your best friend.

By the time you had come to your senses, Jeno was propped on his one knee, fake ring in hand.

“Y/n l/n.”

Well here goes nothing.

“I’ve waited my whole life for this moment. I know it’s not the most romantic but this is where we first met and I developed my love for you. There are so many hours I’ve spent thinking about you, yet they all stemmed from a couple minutes within the walls. I would do anything to spend the rest of my life with you.” He continued on for minutes reciting his script. Never stuttering once, it was as if he was speaking from his heart.

It was safe to say Jeno had a way with his words - even if they all met nothing.

You hadn’t realized it yet, but you had fallen in love with Jeno.

When you had finally recognized your feelings for Jeno, it was high school graduation.

In your mind, it was like the weddings that never commenced from your fake engagement. Walking down the same aisle, wearing expensive gowns, celebrating the start of a new chapter in your life.

These scenarios would all seem fresh in your head if it wasn’t for the fact that Jeno had just begun a relationship with a girl in the year below. All you had known was him for the years prior to graduation. Now, you were clueless as to what would develop as you moved on in your life.

“I’m serious about her. I think I’m going to stay back a year before I head to college. I really think she’s the one.” Jeno had told you one of your sleepless nights on the phone.

You took a deep sigh, clearly signalling you were not following his ideas. “Look, you have dreamed of moving away for years. Why change your mind for a girl you just met?”

He was clearly losing his patience with you. It was only a matter of time before he snapped after his numerous hours of convincing you he loved her. You would never agree with him, though. As long as he was with someone that wasn’t you.

“You just don’t get it. Maybe you’ll understand when you finally find someone that loves you.”

When he heard the immediate hanging up of the call, his emotions were too high to apologize. Jeno knew his words hurt you but he wasn’t in the right sentence to justify his actions. Time didn’t allow him to correct himself either, only progressing through the rest of highschool by never addressing him again.

But here you were at graduation, finding yourself after the ceremony looking for your parents talking to Jeno’s family. He stood beside them, his new girlfriend pressed tightly by his side. When your eyes flickered to make eye contact with him, he reflected a gaze of sorrow. You never returned the sorrow, your gaze only remaining lifeless.

After Jeno had uttered such nonsense to you, you had deemed him as nothing to you. Even if you had recognized your feelings for him, you couldn’t keep waiting.

When you had finally let go of the petty teenage drama, an invitation to Jeno’s wedding had arrived at your front door.

You had come to the conclusion that you were in love with him. After continuously convincing yourself you needed to get over him, it was becoming more difficult to let your feelings for the boy go unnoticed.

With the emotionless response you had given to Jeno after graduation, you had thought your relationship with him was over. And you were proven correct when you found that he had blocked you on every social media platform to ever exist.

You decided it was time to rekindle with your childhood best friend your senior year in college. But to no avail, you still remained blocked and found no new accounts.

So to find the invitation to his wedding - when you had moved far from home and started a new job - was a shocker, to say the least. Even if you hadn’t communicated in years, you were still on the backburner.

Now, you find yourself sitting in an assigned seat in the corner. Far away from any of his family, not needing a reason to explain why you had cut off all communication with Jeno, or rather, how he had done such.

The only other person sitting by you was his youngest cousin he had always explained as a nuisance at family gatherings. She was sweet and you had told him he needed to treat her nicely considering her young age, but teenage Jeno didn’t know better. Even adult Jeno didn’t know better.

You had done a good job holding off any conversation for the first hour of the wedding, but you couldn’t stand the awkward silence and dwelling going on inside your head anymore.

Why had you come just to realize you hated him? You had no clue. All you knew was that you wanted to talk to your best friend. He may not have earned his respect back but it was clear he felt the same way. There is only one reason he would even think to send a wedding invitation your way.

When you finally excuse yourself from the table for a drink, his cousin mutters something under her breath.

“What did you say?” Not sure if her words were meant for her.

She looks you in the eye, “Why did you leave Jeno? He was so happy when he was with you?”

Well clearly she was not in the loop. You dreaded talking about your past with Jeno. But you dreaded even more reminiscing on how close you used to be with him.

“Me and Jeno were never together. I have no idea what you're talking about.” You tried to escape but her words only drew you in.

“Well, I know you weren’t dating, but you should’ve. He was so happy with you. He hated me but you made him realize his indifference. Now here you are with me, the least favorite family member, sitting in the back when you deserve to be down the aisle.”

It was clear her words were leading to the verge of your tears. Time was the only thing that stood between your face full of makeup being ruined. Before she could even allow more words to escape from her mouth, you found yourself making a run for the bathroom.

You had managed to find a new seat along with some of your high school friends in another far corner. You couldn’t face the emotional damage that was Jeno’s cousin. Your friends knew better than to ask any questions about you two, instead opting to treat the experience as a reunion.

As much as you didn’t want to, you had thought about her words. Did you really have an effect on Jeno?

He never told you he loved you, except in his vows. You remember every syllable that came from his mouth. Most importantly, “I love you.” They weren’t real, but they were the closest symbol of reciprocation Jeno had ever given to you.

Even if the words were never truthful, it was only a matter of minutes before you heard his real vows come from his mouth. Watching him walk down the aisle, all you could picture is what your wedding with him would’ve looked like.

If you had ever told Jeno your real feelings that day. Maybe if you were truthful, maybe if you had listened to his cousin, maybe if you hadn’t cut him off, you could be descending down the aisle.

Instead, here you are, sitting isolated from your best friend, wondering what he even thinks of you. Does he know that you're here? Did he invite you or had he been forced to by his parents? All this clouds your mind as you watch the bride approach Jeno, joining hand in hand.

Jeno stood tall on the altar. His black suit defines his build. It was obvious that he had grown into his body well since you had last seen him. As he took a deep breath, you knew it was ready for him to begin his vows, for real this time.

“The love of my life.”

Tears began to blind your vision. You couldn’t stand hearing what was about to come from his mouth. All you could make out was the movement of his lips as ringing stormed your ears.

If you weren’t so scared you would’ve told him how you felt.

If you had been mature you wouldn’t have let him give up on his dreams.

If you cared more about yourself you wouldn't have allowed him to let you burn on the backburner after all these years.

If you had listened to his cousin you would understand that you were important to him.

As you watched him slip the ring on to his now wife, you knew time was up. There was no reversing what you hadn’t done, only reminiscing on what you could’ve.

Jeno was now no one to you. Just a friend in the past who you would tell others you don’t talk to now.

All the years of unreciprocated love would never rekindle. Maybe one thing you should’ve done was listen to him. “Maybe you’ll understand when you finally find someone that loves you.”

It was time to find someone that loved you. Even if it wasn’t him.

#jeno angst #jeno x reader #lee jeno #nct dream angst #nct dream x reader #jeno fic #nct dream #nct dream imagines #nct dream jeno

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aylacavebear · 3 days ago

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Bloodlines & Fate Chapter 3

Being Touched should have been a blessing—a mark of honor in your lineage, celebrated by your pack since childhood. But to you, it's always made you feel like an outsider, never really fitting in anywhere. Yeah, you had your best friend Jess, but for you, something always felt like it was missing. The land your pack runs on during the full moons brings you a sense of peace you don't fully understand, at first.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

Word Count: 3305

Warning: Angst, longing. Not much that I can think of.

A/N: Professor Robert Zimmerman is based off of The Doctor from Star Trek Voyager, as I absolutely love that character.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 3

Graduating just before summer wasn’t anything like a traditional school ceremony, but your pack made sure it felt special. Professors Zimmerman and Saltzman were there, standing alongside nearly half the pack. Your parents even got you a gown, ensuring you had at least a small taste of normalcy you’d never quite had.

Afterward, the celebration stretched long into the evening—music thrummed through the trees, laughter, and dancing filled the clearing, and the scent of roasted meat and sweet pastries lingered in the air. The adults passed around bottles of beer and whiskey, and, to your surprise, your parents allowed you one drink. You savored the cold bitterness, rolling the taste over your tongue like it was some kind of milestone. It felt like one.

Since that night in the forest—the last time you’d heard him—you hadn’t returned to the place that called to you beneath the full moon. Instead, you lingered closer to the cabins, never straying too far. You never sang. That song belonged to you and him alone, a quiet secret in the night, and you weren’t ready to share it with anyone else.

Two other families lived on the land, and over the months, you grew closer to them. The elders of both families took care of the pups during full moons, wrangling them when instincts ran high and patience ran thin. Beverly, one of the omegas, took you under her wing, teaching you how to bake everything from crusty bread to delicate pastries. Jess was usually right there beside you, covered in flour and grinning as she stole bites of dough when Beverly wasn’t looking. Then there was Melody, the other omega, whose expertise lay not in baking, but in handling the chaotic energy of young wolves. She had a quiet authority that pups seemed to respect, and she passed on tricks—how to redirect a tantrum, how to settle an anxious shift, how to recognize when a pup was playing versus picking a fight.

Despite your scent making most of them wary, a handful of the more rambunctious boys ignored the instinct to keep their distance. They sought you out, eager for rough-and-tumble games, drawn to the fact that you didn’t mind a little dirt or a few scrapes. They tackled, they wrestled, and you fought back just as fiercely, earring bruises that you wore with pride.

Jess thought you crazy for putting up with them, but you could see the admiration in their young eyes. You weren’t delicate. You weren’t something they had to tiptoe around. And in their own way, they made you feel like you belonged.

When Jess presented as omega after turning sixteen, she was overjoyed—and for this celebration, you didn’t hesitate to join in. She wasn’t just your best friend; she was your sister in every way that mattered, the one person who understood you in ways your pack never fully could.

But beneath your excitement for her, there was a quiet sadness you kept locked away, hidden deep enough that it wouldn’t taint your scent. Because this changed things. No more late-night games, no more laughing over ridiculous jokes, no more movie marathons where you both fell asleep on the couch before the credits rolled. And she wouldn’t be tending the pups with you anymore, either.

Still, today wasn’t about you. It was about Jess. And you refused to let your own feelings dampen the joy of her moment.

When you finally managed to steal her away from the crowd, pulling her outside and into the cooler night air, you didn’t waste time getting to the one thing that had been nagging at you for hours.

“What’s your weird thing?” you asked, eyes glinting with curiosity.

Jess blinked at you, confused, until realization dawned. “Oh, that? Umm…” she hesitated, chewing her lip in thought. “Honestly… I don’t know. I haven’t noticed anything weird.”

Your shoulders slumped in disappointment, lips pulling into a slight pout. “Well, when you figure it out, you totally have to tell me.” Jess grinned. “You’ll be the second to know.”

That was just how it worked between you two. She’d be the first to know, of course. And you’d always be the second. Just like she was for you.

But then, something changed. It was subtle—a flicker of something different in her expression, a shift in the way the porch light caught her face. You leaned in, brow furrowed, trying to see better, but the shadows weren’t cooperating. Without hesitation, you grabbed her hand and all but dragged her toward the porch, stepping into the pool of warm yellow light.

Your breath caught. “Oh my god,” you murmured, staring at her. “One of your eyes, it’s a different color.”

“What?” Jess fumbled for her phone, pulling it from her back pocket with frantic hands. She flipped to the front camera, zooming in. “Holy shit…” she breathed, eyes wide as she stared at the screen. Leaning against the porch post, you crossed your arms, lips curving into a knowing smirk. “So, who do you know with hazel eyes?”

At first, she didn’t even register your words, too caught up in examining the reflection staring back at her. “I don’t know anyone with hazel eyes,” she muttered absentmindedly.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, ya do. You just don’t know his name because you never talked to him.”

That got her attention. She finally looked up, only to let out a resigned sigh. “He graduated before summer,” she mumbled, slipping her phone into her back pocket.

Without a word, you pulled her into a hug, letting her press into your shoulder. Most people found your scent unpleasant, but not Jess. To her, it was comfort. Familiarity. Home.

“You’re a Winter,” you reminded her softly. “We always find our soulmates.”

Jess exhaled, the weight of longing settling between you both. “I just wish I’d at least gotten his name,” she admitted.

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, offering the reassuring smile you knew she needed. “Hey, when it’s time, you’ll see him again.” Then, nudging her playfully, you added, “Now, let’s go back inside and celebrate. Tonight’s your night.”

And just like that, her grin returned, bright and full of promise.

—------------------------------------

The number of alphas still coming to meet you had dwindled. Even with the elders covering the travel expenses for those who couldn’t afford the journey, none had been your soulmate. And with your twentieth birthday rapidly approaching, a thought kept creeping into your mind—was it time to venture back into the forest to find the wolf who had answered your song all those years ago?

Your pack didn’t voice their concern outright, but you felt it in the way they moved around you, in the way conversations quieted when you entered a room. You didn’t need to scent their unease—it lingered in every glance, every hesitant touch. Even meals with your parents had become tense, their smiles just a little too forced. Then, two nights before your birthday, they finally dropped the news over dinner.

“After the next full moon, we’re moving back to town,” your mother said carefully. “To our old house.”

You barely had time to process that before your father added. “It’ll be easier to do more research from there. There might be other alphas that didn’t see any of the stories that were published. We promise, we won’t give up until we’ve found him.” His tone was firm, reassuring, but the worry in his eyes betrayed him.

Jess and her family weren’t moving, at least. That was one thing you didn’t have to mourn. You forced a small smile, trying to ease the tension in the room. “It’ll be weird not having you guys around, but… maybe some space wouldn’t be the worst thing.”

That seemed to settle your parents some, but the unease in your gut didn’t fade.

For nearly four years, you had pushed the alpha from your thoughts, resisting the pull to step into the woods on the full moon. But now, with your parents’ news and Jess talking more about her plans for college, it felt like the right time—maybe the only time—to see if that wolf was still out there.

You only told Jess about your plan. She immediately offered to go with you, but you both knew how dangerous that would be for an unclaimed omega during the full moon. Even if the chance was rare, sometimes soulmates found each other under the moon’s light—and when that happened, the pull was unstoppable. The mating was inevitable.

It took some convincing, but you finally reassured her that you’d be fine. If it came down to it, you’d climb a tree and wait for morning.

The two weeks leading up to the full moon passed in a blur of packing boxes and sorting through old memories as your birthday quietly came and went. It didn’t feel like much of a milestone—just another day, another number. Your mind was elsewhere, fixed on what was coming, on the unknown waiting for you beneath the full moon’s glow.

—-------------------------

Like all the full moons before, the three groups disappeared into the forest at dusk, vanishing into the trees in their respective directions. Jess had hugged you tightly before she left, her excitement outweighing the cautious optimism in her eyes. Normally, you’d spend the night helping Beverly and Melody tend to the pups, but tonight, you had other plans. You’d apologized to them earlier, and though they had accepted the lie you’d given, you could still feel their lingering concern.

Standing at the cabin door, you exhaled a shaky breath before stepping out into the night. The earth was soft beneath your bare feet, cool and damp with the memory of the sun. You curled your toes against it, grounding yourself, before taking another breath—deep, steadying. Tonight, you would find him. The wolf who had always answered your song. The further you walked from the cabin, the harder your heart pounded. You weren’t one to struggle with anxiety, but tonight, it coiled around your chest like a vice, making each breath feel shallow. The forest was alive with sound—owls hooting in the distance, small creatures rustling in the underbrush, darting away from unseen predators. But none of it mattered. Your focus was on the path ahead, on the place where the trees thinned before growing thick again—the furthest you had ever dared to go. Until now.

When you reached the familiar cluster of trees, their dense canopy blocked most of the moonlight, leaving only fractured silver beams to guide you. The scent of pine and damp earth surrounded you, grounding yet intoxicating. Your pulse roared in your ears as you stepped deeper, weaving through the darkness.

Then, ahead, a glimmer of moonlight—an opening in the woods no more than ten feet across. A clearing. The moment you stepped into it, you felt the tension in your chest ease. You tilted your head back, gazing at the moon’s glow, and finally—finally—you could breathe. The familiar stirring deep within you made your skin hum with awareness, and before you could second-guess yourself, you closed your eyes and sang.

The melody left your lips like a whispered secret, a longing confession carried into the night. And God, you hadn’t realized just how much you had missed this until now.

As your song faded into the stillness, something inside you unraveled, the weight you hadn’t even realized you were carrying lifting from your shoulders. I needed that more than I thought. It was the closeness of the answer howl that brought goosebumps to your skin. A sound so familiar yet somehow more visceral this time. He’s close.

Taking a shaky breath, your gaze shifted to the left, toward the darkness beyond the small clearing. He’s that way. At first, your feet refused to move as literally every emotion mixed together and held you in place. I need to do this. I have to know.

Shaking your head, pushing the emotions away, you forced yourself to move. One step. Then another. Each movement felt like wading through deep water, your legs heavy, sluggish. Slowly, though, it became easier, determination pushing you onward. A gentle breeze kissed your skin, bringing with it the scent of an alpha. He’s close…

The forest thickened around you, towering old-growth trees standing like sentinels beside younger saplings nestled among ferns, lush grass, flowers, and bushes. Another breeze came, but this time from behind, like it was trying to guide you further.

Then—a sound. A quiet, broken whimper, and you froze.

The sharp pang of anxiety tightened your chest, stealing your breath. Your lips parted, but no sound escaped. Time felt like it stood still, moments stretching into hours, unable to move or make a sound. When you heard his whimper again, it seemed to snap you out of it. The sound was raw, aching.

Drawing in a steady breath, you forced your body to move, slipping between the trees, careful to keep yourself concealed. The bark was rough against your fingertips as you inched forward, using the cover to say unseen. And then, at the clearing’s edge, you stopped.

The sight in front of you was both beautiful and somewhat confusing. A towering, half-rotted tree stump stood a few feet away, remnants of its ancient form stretching nearly three times your height. Around it, tufts of grass, ferns, and delicate flowers blanketed the forest floor. But it was what was beyond that sent a prickle of unease down your spine. The chainlink fence.

Nearly ten feet tall, it stretched in either direction, marking the boundary between your pack’s land and another’s. The elders had forged an unspoken rule—during the full moon, no wolves were to come near the borders, out of respect for the neighboring pack. Just standing here, you were breaking a sacred tradition.

But none of that mattered. It was what lay beyond the fence.

Deep, emerald green eyes—so intense they seemed to pierce into your soul. Even though you remained partially hidden behind the tree, you knew—he saw you. But if that was the case, why hadn’t he shifted back to human form?

“I’m sorry, wolf. I’ll go. I didn’t mean to be disrespectful,” you murmured apologetically, taking a step back. The last thing you wanted was to cause tension between his pack and yours.

A whimper stopped you.

He moved closer, his massive form barely making a sound, his gaze locked onto yours. You hesitated, tilting your head as you studied him. He didn’t seem upset that you were here.

“I won’t get close. My scent bothers others,” you offered softly.

But he shook his head.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. Then, with a small yip, he tried to get your attention, his tail giving the barest flick. The unexpected sound made you giggle. “My scent doesn’t bother you?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them. You tried not to get your hopes up, but the warmth of a smile tugged at your lips.

The wolf practically grinned, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth before he stepped closer to the fence. Tentatively, you mirrored his movements, stepping fully into the moonlight.

His expression shifted—pure awe, even in wolf form. The intensity of it sent heat creeping up your neck, making you blush.

You felt almost giddy, like a schoolgirl, but tried to keep focused, now only a few feet from the fence, as was the wolf. “Will you shift back, so I can see who you are?” The moment the question left your lips, realization struck. “I—I can look away,” you added quickly, not wanting to put him in an uncomfortable position.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he whined, lowering his head as he sat back on his haunches.

Understanding dawned. “You can’t shift back to human form while the moon is up, can you?”

Slowly, he shook his head.

Your chest tightened in sympathy. “I can’t shift at all,” you admitted, offering a small, understanding smile. “So, I understand.”

Now that he was in the full light, you could truly see him. His coat was a stunning mix of deep brown and golden highlights, streaked with darker shades that gave him an almost untamed beauty. Strong. Wild. And those eyes—piercing, swirling with emotions you could almost name. He was beautiful.

For a long moment, you simply sat there, watching him. Then, with a small smile, you broke the silence. “I guess I could talk, and you could listen if you want.” The wolf’s tongue lolled out of what looked suspiciously like a grin, his tail giving a wag. The sound made you giggle. He tilted his head, intrigued, which only made you laugh again. That sound—your laughter—seemed to excite him. He bounced onto all fours, his tail wagging wildly, letting out a series of happy yips.

Your laughter mixed with his playful sounds, echoing into the quiet forest.

That night, you sat there, talking to him for hours. You told him about your pack, your family, and what it was like growing up different. He was attentive, animated even, reacting to your words in small but unmistakable ways. And yet, you noticed something—he never crossed the invisible line between you. He stayed the same distance from the fence that you did. That detail lingered in your mind.

After a while, you glanced up at the sky and sighed. “It’s late. I need to go home, wolf.”

The wolf whined, the sound tugging at something deep inside you.

You hesitated, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll come back tomorrow. I promise,” you told him sincerely, and he wagged his tail. “Then, until tomorrow night, wolf.”

That strange, almost-smile appeared on his face again, making warmth bloom in your chest.

You waved to him as you walked back into the forest, feeling happier than you had in a while. The events of the last few hours replayed in your mind. You hadn’t exchanged names. You hadn’t even spoken in the same way. But, whoever he was, he was your soulmate. It was more than just a feeling—it was certainty. And the proof? Your scent didn’t bother him at all. More than that, though, you felt safe with him.

—----------------------------------

The next morning, you told Jess everything. Predictably, she nearly vibrated out of her seat with excitement.

“Oh my God, you found him!” She grabbed your hands, squeezing them. “Okay, you need to take someone with you. Maybe they can scent him and figure out his name!” You groaned, scrubbing a hand over your face. “I can’t, Jess. I was at the fence. That’s like the one rule no one is allowed to break. Ever. I don’t even know what the punishment would be, and I don’t want to find out.”

Jess sighed dramatically, taking a slow sip of her coffee as she mulled it over. “So, let me get this straight. You found your soulmate, but you don’t even know his name.”

You let out a dry chuckle, leaning back in your chair. “Tell me about it. The fates have a twisted sense of humor.” You exhaled, shaking your head. “But it makes sense. I can’t shift during the full moon, and neither can he. It’s just… the opposite.”

Jess scrunched up her nose. “Yeah, that is pretty twisted.”

Over the next two nights, you returned to that spot, knowing full well you were breaking the rules. But you couldn’t stay away.

Both nights, he was already there, waiting for you. The moment he saw you, his eyes lit up, tail wagging as he let out that happy yip.

And yet, despite all that warmth, all that connection, you still had no idea how to figure out his name. Or how to find him. But you weren’t giving up. Not now. Not ever.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4 - coming soon

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studiogrimm810 · 2 days ago

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Stoned and Nostalgic

pairings/characters: (best friend/pining) sam x gn!you, dean is barely there

summary: when sam confides in you that he got accepted to stanford, you make him promise to go and never look back, but when you see him years later and back on the road with dean, you demand an explaination as to why he gave that up

warnings: getting high, angst, talk of jess and her death,

word count: 2,301

A/N: this was a request!! tysm for reaching out :):) also, if anyone wants to be tagged in my future works feel free to ask ^.^

———————

The night sky above was clear, shimmering stars from light years away tease your meaningless existence and you rest on the hood of your fathers car. A long drag of a loosely rolled joint fills your lungs with a biting smoke and you exhale, watching as the puff dissolves just above your eyes. A hand slacks into your peripheral and you pass the joint over to Sam.

You had known Sam for years. Ever since your dad and John teamed up on a hunt back in ‘92, it was often you got to share moments like this with the younger Winchester. He also always had the best weed.

Tonight, the dads and Dean were out on a hunt and you didn’t expect to see them for a few more hours. Not that they cared much about your ‘extracurricular activities’. Getting high with Sam was something you often found yourself looking forward to. You never felt safer than when you were with Sam, not just physically but emotionally too.

As summer nears an end, the cool night air rings with cicadas. You looked forward to the autumn months, the changing leaves with a more interesting landscape to get high too observe. Plus, this was the first year you didn’t have to go back to school. You and Sam were graduated adults now but right now, stoned and bodies pressed close, you still felt like dumb teenagers playing hooky.

“I missed you, been too long,” you say, taking back the joint as he passes it to you. Something is different with him though. He’s been quieter, more tense and quite eager to get to smoking.

“Yeah,” he says bluntly with a hint of sadness.

“Maybe with both of us outta school, we’ll get dragged on more hunts,” you pull in a fresh drag. “Wonder why we didn’t get involved with this one.” Sam just hums in response.

Even if his mind is full of thought, the air between you two stays light and dizzy. The joint doing its job.

Sam sits up, resting his forearms on his knees and running a hand down his face.

“I um-,” he clears his throat. You sit up with him and tilt your head, flicking some ash off the tip. “I gotta tell you something,” he looks straight ahead, working his jaw.

“What’s up?” You ask, taking another drag, the smoke dropping a haze over the seriousness of his demeanor. He’s quiet, amping himself up to say what he needs to.

“I got some pretty good news,” he says, but his face isn’t holding the excitement it should.

“Well, spill,” you nudge his shoulder.

“A few months back I applied to some colleges for the hell of it,” he starts, “I got accepted to a few,” the haze starts to thin, “I got a full ride for two. I chose the better of the two- Stanford.”

You’re shocked, the thought of college never even crossed your mind. It was out of the cards for you, not even an option to entertain with an SAT score.

“You’re kidding,” you exhale. Of course if anyone could swing a full ride to a school like that, it would be Sam. “That’s amazing!” You scoff, wrapping your arms around him and holding the joint away so it doesn’t get in the way. “Oh my god, when do you start? What did Dean say?”

Sam chuckles softly, shaking his head, “I haven’t told anyone else yet.” You feel honored. “I have to be there for orientation on Sunday.” Five days from now. Reality hits. Sam is leaving for good.

“Oh!” You try to remain excited for him but you can already feel the ache of his absence. “What are you gonna tell him? Or your dad?”

“I have no fucking clue,” he looks up at the sky, plucking the joint from your fingers. “They are gonna be pissed.” You want to argue that they’ll be ecstatic because who wouldn’t be? But you know John and the kind of father he is.

Silence washes over you two and you let the news settle.

“You’re gonna do great things, Sam,” you finally speak up. “You’re gonna change the world. You’re so damn smart and they’re lucky to have a student like you,” you list off your exact beliefs. “You’re gonna get out,” you breathe out.

Sam looks over to you as you stare above, envy buried under pride for your best friend. A small smile perks your lips and your chest swells with emptying exaultation. You can feel his empathetic eyes bore into your temple. He feels bad, you know he does.

“You deserve this,” you turn to him with glossy eyes. “You just have to promise me one thing.”

His jaw tenses with held back words and he sighs but nods.

“Don’t come back,” you shake your head, ignoring how his expression turns a bit confused and maybe even hurt. But you don’t care if it hurts him now. “You deserve more than this,” you gesture out to the desolate motel parking lot, “you deserve an education, a regular job, a spouse, a good house in a good neighborhood, maybe even a few kids if they're in your cards. You deserve a normal life. You can’t come back to this. Don’t let Dean or John or anybody stop you from doing what is best for you, okay?” Your words are stern and he takes the bite behind them. Your passion for his future fueling his desire to go out to California and never look back.

“I promise.”

———

After working a case in Colorado, you decided to take a few days off and relax at a motel in the beautiful state. You chose a motel within walking distance to a bar and wasted no time trekking up the sidewalk and to the establishment. It was a Thursday night so it wasn’t too busy and you took a stool in the middle of the bar, ordering your preferred drink and some house chips to snack on while you watched the muted talk show on a TV behind the bar.

You had a few drinks, grazed on some appetizers and flirted with the bartender who was looking for a good tip for sure. But you didn’t mind. A few strangers come up to talk to you but you turn them away, committing to yourself for the night.

As the night goes on, the bar gets a bit more crowded and you pay your bill, leaving a generous tip and throwing back the rest of your drink. As you push out of the stool and swing your jacket over your shoulders, your eyes lock with a familiar set and you smile.

Dean Winchester was occupying a high top in the middle of the dining room. His face lights up when he sees you and you make your way over to him.

“Hey!” You greet, and he gets up to meet you for a hug. “What brings you up here?” You ask, pulling away and fixing your jacket.

“Just driving, looking for a case,” Dean shrugs with a kind smile. It had been years since you last saw Dean. You had helped him and John with a nest of vamps back in ‘04.

“It’s so good to see you,” you look over to see an empty chair with a coat slung on the back and a fresh beer in front of the placement. “John in the bathroom?” You ask casually, but Dean’s face grims as he looks down at his glass.

“Actually, um, we’re looking for him,” Dean explains with a heavy inhale, looking up at you.

“We?”

You hear your name and your heart stops as you turn to see a matured and sturdy version of the beanpole you called your best friend all those years ago. A rush of emotions wrack over your body- joy, grief, confusion, anger. What was Sam doing here? It’s the middle of February, shouldn’t he be in school? It should be his senior year.

“Sam?” You ask, astonished to see the man before you. He smiles at you but the lack of your own causes his to melt away in confusion. “Why are you here?”

“What?” He asks, with a small shake of his head as if he didn’t hear you right.

“You should be in California, what- what happened?” You repeat. The promise he made is still fresh in your mind.

“It’s complicated,” he rolls his eyes at the complication and not in annoyance with you.

“No, it’s- Sam,” you scoff lightly. Ready to give him a piece of your mind.

“C’mon, let’s talk outside,” he grabs his coat and gestures for you to follow him. You head towards the door, ignoring Dean's eyes. You push open the door, stepping into the nostalgic night air, looking up at the crystal clear sky with speckled glitter for stars.

“Are you hunting?” You ask, not looking away from the sky.

“Yes,” he admits like an unfaithful spouse. He rubs the back of his neck and sighs. “It’s-.”

“You promised,” you interrupt, looking over at him with glossy eyes. The image is like déjà vu for him- but this time your eyes are damp with betrayed ache and not hopeful pain.

“Dad went missing and Dean needed help,” Sam reasons.

“Then he should’ve called me,” You combat, you hoped that Dean knew could trust you.

“My girlfriend was killed,” he upped the ante and it shuts you right up. Wiping away your anger like a switch. “The same thing that killed my mom- what my dad has been searching for- it got to her.”

Fuck. You feel awful.

“I couldn’t just ignore that- pretend like it isn’t my fault for thinking I could’ve had a shot at a life with her-,” his voice breaks and he turns away to pace a few feet.

“Sam-.”

“I gave it one hell of a shot though. Even was going for a chance at grad school,” he scoffed at how naïve he was- how stupid to think he could escape. He saw the whole experience as some sort of joke, especially since he only ended up getting the woman he loved killed.

“I’m sorry,” is all you can say. He turns to face you, his eyes shedding a few spare tears. You can’t get over how much he’s grown. He somehow got taller and is still more limb than noticeable muscle, but his face has sharpened and his eyes have aged a lifetime.

“I wanted to call you, so damn bad, but I didn’t want to see how disappointed you’d be,” he admits, looking down at the ground.

Damn, that hurts.

“No, I’m so sorry. I’m not disappointed, I just- I wanted so much more for you. I wanted you to be happy,” you explain, taking a few steps closer.

“I was,” his voice breaks as he looks back up at you. You can’t hold yourself back. You reach out to pull him close, rising on your tiptoes to reach him. His arms wrap around your body and he hangs on tight. He holds his sobs back but you can feel his body tremor.

“I missed you like crazy,” you mumble into his shoulder.

“Me too,” his words bite out quickly, he hisses back a sob, his fingers clenched into your coat.

You two stay like that for a while, allowing him time to steel himself before even thinking of pulling away. He’s in so much pain- grieving the life he almost had and the love of it too.

Conveniently, Sam and Dean have picked a room at the same motel as you and when Sam finally pulls away, you offer to call it a night and head back. You tell Dean for him, knowing Sam wouldn’t want his brother seeing him like this, and walk back hand in hand. You and Sam were always close like this, you were even each other's first kisses, so when you two got back to the motel, taking him to the room you previously booked with a single king wasn’t a second thought.

You two got comfortable on the bed and he retrieved a joint from an Altoid tin in his pocket. You listen as he tells you all about his time at Stanford- his major for Law and Criminal Justice, his friends and their lives, parties and particularly annoying professors. Then, when the drug works its haze, he’s able to talk about her.

Jessica Moore, you learn, was a kind, fiery, confident, funny young woman who had her own past that she and Sam bonded over. You rested against the headboard as Sam’s head lay in your lap and he continued to talk about anything and everything Jess. She had a mole between her brows that she was insecure of but Sam found stunning. Her wavy blonde hair would get frizzy in the rain and whenever she got too drunk, he had to talk her out of getting a Papa Smurf tattoo on her thigh.

You can tell just by the way his face ignites that he truly loved her- and still does. You don’t ever think this is the type of love he’ll be able to forget and you don’t blame him.

Hours pass and the high is fading. Sam fell asleep in your lap a little while ago but you continue to play with his shaggy locks, missing the mindless intimacy shared between you two. As much as you wished he would have stayed at Stanford, you know that he would’ve been miserable with guilt. At least on the road, he can do something. He can save other people’s Jess’. He can make a difference even if it isn’t as a lawyer.

He can avenge the death of Jess and Mary and you vowed to help him.

———————

thank you so much for reading!! <3

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>tags: @blossomingorchids

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