#jonathan byers drabble

[luveline]

I always see people writing for a very shy/subby Jonathan, but I’d love to see shy!reader staying over at his for the first time (doesn’t have to be sexual!) & our girl being reassured by him & all of the cuddles

thank you for your request! jonathan x shy!fem!reader arriving for your first sleepover ♡

You think you might have lucked out. Your first boyfriend being Jonathan feels like a storybook tenderness you don't deserve, he's just… so lovely. It terrifies you even though he never could, because you're desperate not to fuck it up. You call him your sweetheart, internally, and not solely for pet names sake — he has a sweet heart. He's unbelievably kind, adorable, funny and smart and level-headed. It doesn't hurt that he's your favourite kind of handsome. 

He's waiting for you as you park your car, standing in front of the closed door with a smile already in place. You know he'd made sure he was the first person you saw to alleviate your nerves. If you knocked the door and his mom answered, you probably would've tripped over every word, giving a terrible first impression in the process. 

"Hey," he says happily. How lovely is that? He's happy to see you the second you're in view. "Is that all your stuff?" 

"Is this not enough?" you ask, looking down at your jansport, suddenly worried. 

He finds this super funny and starts laughing his awful golden laugh. He reaches for your bag, fingers brushing yours as he takes it, and leans down to close the small gap for a kiss. You're not used to kisses, and you don't turn your head up right away. He uses his free hand to encourage you. He doesn't make you feel stupid for it. Just murmurs, "There," and kisses you again. 

He smiles against your lips and pulls back. "It's only two days, so you'll be fine. And I'm not holding you hostage. You can leave if you need something." His hand rubs down your arm. He squeezes your fingers. "But you won't need anything." 

He opens the door and you follow him inside, stiff as a board expecting his mom and his brother, Will. 

It's totally silent. Your lips part in confusion. 

"They went to the store. My mom wanted to make sure there were 'ladies things' in the bathroom." 

"She didn't have to do that." 

"I know. She doesn't mind, she wants you to feel welcome. That's what I want, too." His knuckle bumps yours. "Can't murder you if you never let your guard down." 

He starts down the hall toward what you assume to be his room. Your laugh comes out in a gross little snort that he adores, you can see it in the way his shoulders roll and the smile he shoots you confirms it. 

"Jon, you can't joke about stuff like that," you chide, catching up. 

He pushes open his bedroom door. "I'm not gonna murder you," he assures you. "You know how long it took to clean in here?" 

He puts your jansport on the bottom of the bed and looks at you in the doorway. His cheeky smile turns genuine, and his eyes go soft. 

You're expecting it but still squeal in shock as he rushes you and hugs you so hard your feet lift off the ground. He bends under your weight, digging his nose in your neck. 

"You look so pretty today," he says, like he's mad about it. 

"Jon," you laugh, glad when your feet touch the ground again. "Don't, please, I don't wanna be all sweaty when your mom comes home, she'll think we were doing gross stuff." 

"You don't wanna do gross stuff?" he jokes, before amending, "She won't think that. I've already told her you get flustered at everything." 

"You… talk about me to your mom?" 

His turn to clam up. Jonathan widens the gap between you and avoids your eyes, a nervous, endearing smile on his lips as he says, "Whaaat?" 

He's not very convincing. 

You watch him until he meets your eyes again, your smile soft as warm toffee. 

"I talk about you all the time," he says finally. He breathes out, his shoulders rising and falling. "C'mere." 

He raises his arms. You take the half step required to be back in his embrace, hugging him automatically. He settles his arms over your shoulders, a more casual embrace, and looks down at you. He's quiet. 

"What?" you ask. 

"Sorry. Just… like seeing you here. And I have something to say to you, because I know you'll worry about it, but– it's–" His arm curves up and hooks you in. He fights off his own shyness to accommodate your own, and you hope he knows how valuable that is to you. "Okay, my mom, I'll spare you a rehash of most awkward conversation of my life, but she doesn't expect us to, uh, sleep with the door open." 

You go rigid. "Oh, my god," you say, lips barely moving. 

"I'm sorry, but I just wanted you to know now, I don't expect anything from you, okay? And we could leave the door open if that was what you wanted–" 

"What?" you ask, shocked. 

"Not like that!" He looks like he's midway between laughing and crying, his face a fuzzy shade of pink. "I want you here because I want you close, not because I want– well, I do want– I want what you want," he says, promptly shutting his mouth. 

You take a nice, deep breath, squeezing your arms from between your touching chests to cup his face carefully. You thumb his jaw. 

"You're worse than me, sometimes," you sympathise.

"Yeah," he says. "I am." 

You wrap your arms around his neck with a pleased smile, forcing him to grasp at your shoulders. You aren't expecting to do anything you aren't ready for tonight, but the fact that he'd know you were worried about it, that he would brave such an awkward stepping stone so you didn't have to, means the world. He squeezes you. 

"Shit," he mumbles. "I'm sweating. She's definitely gonna think we were doing gross stuff." 

It's funny until you hear the front door open.

[ddejavvu]

jonathan anon again lol!!! I love him so much. how about him introducing shy!you to his mom <3 ur super nervous she won’t like you but she totally adores you

Jonathan's stepped up to slot his keys in the door, and you consider using the time he's not paying attention to you to make your escape. You could do it, beeline back to his car, hotwire it, drive off into the distance with no planned return. But then he might have to walk to school, and you don't want him to have to do that. Before you can decide to sprint anywhere, the lock clicks, and the door swings open at his push.

"Mom," He calls into the house, rather unceremoniously, which makes you nervous, "I'm home, and I brought Y/N!"

"Oh!" A voice comes from the kitchen, honey-sweet but slightly flustered, "Oh, I'll- I'll be right there!"

"Jon-!" You swat at Jonathan's shoulder, hissing at him in a panic, "You said she knew I was coming!"

"No, I said she said you could come over anytime," He corrects you, dropping his backpack on the couch, "So I brought you over today."

This is a disaster. You're now an unexpected, barely-invited guest in the Byers household, and only your boyfriend really wants you there. You've met Will a handful of times, during pick-up or drop-off or just out and about, and he seems to like you, but you're sure he doesn't want you popping up in his living room unannounced. You'd been invited for dinner by your boyfriend, but you're not sure his mother has made enough, so you're not only intruding on their life, but you're putting the extra stress of another mouth to feed on her plate, and she's going to hate you for the burden you're causing, and-

"Will you stop burning holes in the wall? That's a picture of me, you know," Jonathan scoffs, tramping over to where you'd been zoning out to panic and pulling the frame off of the wall, "You're supposed to think I'm cute."

"That's- That is cute," You wanted to respond with a lot more fire than that, due to the nature of your boyfriend's planning abilities, but admittedly, the baby photo of him in nothing but a diaper is adorable. You can see the chubby rolls of his arms and legs, and his stomach pudges out in a round shape you're sure his mother kissed a thousand times.

"-but this is not fair to your mom! She probably didn't make enough, and now I look rude for showing up unannounced, and-"

"She always makes more than enough," He assures you, setting the picture frame down on the table and taking your hands in his. He has a way of looking at you while he speaks that calms the frantic beating of your panicked heart, and you let yourself get lost in his comforting aura for a moment. "She makes one giant meal on Monday nights, then we eat the leftovers until Sunday. Your one portion will not destroy the fabric of the household, Y/N."

"But it'll be one less portion for someone else," You fret, and you know his resulting glare is meant kindly.

"Will has a bad habit of sneaking into the kitchen for midnight meals. You'll just be preventing me from waking up to hear the microwave at one in the morning, babe. You're doing everyone a favor, here. Plus, my mom really wants to meet you. She bugs me every day about bringing you here, just because you're unexpected doesn't mean you're unwanted. Okay?"

You hear frantic footsteps from the kitchen, and nod before she has a chance to catch you in a freak-out, "Okay, Jon, okay."

"Okay." He grins at you, turning in sync with you just in time to see Joyce round the corner out from the kitchen, stuffing an apron onto the counter that she's clearly just taken off.

Her face lights up when she sees you, especially when she notices that Jonathan still has one of your hands in his own. She rushes for a hug, gushing "Hello!", and you're happy to let her engulf you in her embrace.

"Hi," You return just as enthusiastically, if not a little nervous, "Hi, I- I hope I'm not intruding."

You ignore the way Jonathan huffs out a sigh at your near-apology.

"No! No," Joyce pulls back from the hug, keeping her hands on your shoulders and shaking her head, a deep frown over her features, "No honey, not at all! I mean," She brightens, eyes wide, "I was really starting to think he'd made you up, or something! I mean I've been asking for ages, I- I was starting to worry." She concludes, a little drearily. Jonathan had admitted that he was nervous to bring you over in case you were expecting something better, something nicer, something newer, but a newer house with newer contents wouldn't hold the memories you see so plainly here, and you look around to admire the photos displayed.

"It's wonderful here," You promise, feeling Joyce's hands drop to your own and squeeze, "I've never seen baby pictures of Jonathan."

"Oh, I have a bunch." She grins, and Jonathan pales beside you.

"She's seen one!" He attempts to diffuse her excitement, "The- the one on the wall, mom. She's seen me in a diaper, isn't that enough?"

"No, she needs to see you in your Donald Duck Halloween costume," She insists, "After dinner- we're having spaghetti, honey, I hope that's okay." She cuts herself off to peer worriedly at you, and you nod vigorously.

"Oh, great! Okay, after dinner, I'll get the photo albums down, alright? And we can make fun of him," She looks far too eager to tease her son, "Does that sound good?"

"That sounds great," You laugh, at the same time Jonathan groans the opposite.

"Oh, stop," She swats at his chest, "You get to see her all the time, now let me take over."

"Not if you're gonna embarrass me!" Jonathan gripes, turning to you, "Y/N, don't hold my preschool drawings against me. I've gotten better with time, I swear."

"He hasn't," Joyce stage-whispers to you, then gushes to Jonathan, "Of course you have, sweetheart."

She's tugging you off to the dinner table without another word, and you glance back with a grin at Jonathan who looks half-mortified and half-fond.

"Now, sit," She pulls a chair out at the table for you, "And talk, I wanna know everything about you!"

[dickmastersfruit]

jonathan likes to hold ur hand while he eats you out there i said it

Thats Right

Pairing: Jonathan x F!reader

Warnings: eating kitty

Wordcount: 281

You squirmed under his tight grip. His hands piercing your hips as he continued pushing them down against the pillow. You couldn't stop the whimpers that escaped your lips.

He chuckled against your clit, the action sending vibrations through your whole body. You moved against his hands and mouth not being able to stay still. His hands snaked up from your hips to your stomach before reaching out for your breast.

You could feel the familiar knot in your stomach as you bucked your hips against his mouth. His hands caressed your body as he explored every inch of you he could reach.

"That's right baby, your doing so good" He murmured against you as he took your hand into his. He rubbed circles on your hand as your moans got louder. His other hand went back to your hips as he pushed your body down so he could get deeper. The knot got tighter and tighter as your body spasmed. Your moans filled the room as you let go.

"You did so good baby" He murmured as he licked you through your orgasm. Your moans got quieter as you came down from your high. He kitten licked your clit a few times making you yelp as you close your legs around his head. He tightened his grip around your hand as he pulled his face away.

You laid there with your eyes closed as his body hovered over yours. He softly planted a kiss to your temple before laying down next to you. He wrapped his arm around you slowly and pulled you flush against his body.

"I love you" He murmured against your skin. Sending tingles down your body.

Masterlist Jonathan Masterlist

[bruisedboys]

all i want to do is spend a rainy day at home with jonathan byers like is that so hard. just cuddling and making out all tired and soft. like srs.

ohmygosh aerial. you don’t understand I need him

gn!reader 0.7k words

You’re feeling quite dizzy.

You don’t know if it’s because you’re tired, or because you’ve been giggling so much, or because Jonathan’s kissing you stupid. Probably all of the above.

You’re straddling him on the Byers’ couch and he’s got you all pushed up against his chest like he wants you to melt into him. You wouldn’t mind, honestly.

Jonathan pulls away from your mouth only to duck his head to your neck, lips attaching to your skin. He presses hot, wet kisses from your neck all the way down your shoulder and then back up again.

You giggle, lips swollen and your heart twice as much. “Jon.”

He makes a sound like a grunt slash moan and it vibrates on your neck. You laugh some more.

“That tickles,” you say breathlessly, face hot.

Jonathan makes another noise like a hum and mumbles, “Sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry at all.

He pulls away, presses his forehead to yours. His eyelids are heavy and his lips kiss-bitten, his chest heaving against yours. He looks so pretty like this.

A rumble of thunder echoes overhead. You gasp, only a little shocked as the storm has been on and off all day. But the loudness of it is enough to get you shivering.

“You cold?” Jonathan asks, frowning.

“No,” you say. Actually, you’re burning up. All Jonathan’s doing.

He rubs your arms with both hands anyway, then pushes his arms under yours, hands locking on your lower back.

“How’d I get so lucky, hm?” he mumbles, all sweet and raspy, like he‘s not convinced you’re real.

His hand slips beneath your t-shirt and up the bare skin of your back, a burning trail of stars left in his wake. Your t-shirt bunches up around his wrist, cool air washing over your back.

You melt. He tends to have that effect on you.

“Don’t, Jonathan,” you say shyly, your fingers toying with the fabric of his sky blue t-shirt. Your cheeks are burning.

Jonathan frowns. “Don’t what? Tell the truth?” He hooks his free hand under your chin, thumb pushing upwards so you’re forced to look him in the eye. “You’re perfect.”

You’re a blushing mess. You smile so wide your cheeks ache with it. Then you’re giggling, because a smile isn’t enough, not with someone as lovely as him. Jonathan looks alarmed.

“What’s funny?” He asks, quirking a brow.

You shrug and make an ‘I don’t know’ sound. Nothing’s funny, you’re just sick as a dog in love with him.

Rain buckets down overhead as you lift your hand to Jonathan’s hair. You push it away from where it’s falling over his forehead, finding it silky smooth under your fingers. You wonder if he’s been using the conditioner you’d left in his shower.

Your hand slides around to the back of his head and comes to rest at the nape of his neck, fingers buried in the soft, short hair. Jonathan’s melting under your touch, eyelids heavy and head heavier.

He sighs with content and you can’t help it — you lean in to kiss him. You get in one short kiss before you’re giggling again, smiling all wide and dopey and Jonathan’s trying to kiss you but your staggering smile makes it tough.

He chuckles, a sweet, raspy sound, his mouth a millimeter from yours. “You’re laughing again,” he accuses softly, totally deadpan.

“Sorry,” you say guiltily, giggles rolling out of you and showing no signs of stopping.

“Stop smiling,” he groans, long-suffering. His own cheesy grin gives him away. Hypocrite. “It’s really hard to kiss you when you’re like this.”

“You’re smiling too,” you whine.

“No I’m not,” he says quickly. “See, look.” He drops the smile abruptly and forces his lips into a straight line. You can’t help but laugh he looks so soulless. The act doesn’t hold up for long. He’s soon laughing almost as much as you are.

“This is all your fault,” he grumbles. Without warning he grips your waist and manhandles you off his lap. Before you have time to protest he’s pushing you gently so you fall back against the couch cushions.

All the breath is stolen from your lungs as Jonathan moves to hover over you. His knee slots between your thighs and you stop laughing abruptly. The room goes quiet, but for the rain on the roof.

“All—” He leans down to kiss you, “your—” a second kiss, “fault.” One more kiss, messy and clumsy but sweet as sugar.

If this is consequence, you don’t mind admitting it’s your fault at all. Not one bit.

[darklcy]

𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

━━━━━━━━━━

‣ a late night outing with jonathan

‣ jonathan byers x reader | stranger things mastelist | 446 words | short drabble, lots of rotten fluff

‣ brought to you by flash - cigarettes after sex

The ray of the street lamp bounced off the top of his ford and onto the tops of your shoes, your cheeks, your tousled hair that’d just been torn away from pillowcases. It was a bit embarrassing to be greeting him in an oversized abba t-shirt and leggings, shoelaces untied due to the rush the adrenaline of sneaking out enveloped you with.

His grin was cheeky and eager, excited to be encouraging you to commit such a sinful act that was escaping your bedroom to meet him in the early hours of the morning. You yanked open the passenger door and slid into the seat, returning his smile with a bashful one of your own. 

"Hi." “Hi.”

His hand squeezes the top of your seat as he takes in your appearance.

“You look pretty.”

You swatted his arm. “You’re being nice.”

“Just being honest.”

Jonathan was as sweet as fruit. It warmed the skin on your face and suffocated your pulse underneath your rib cage. The rhythm of your heartbeat lost its balance when you were around him. You hoped he didn’t notice.

His hand returned back to the wheel as he switched from park to drive, swerving away from your house and into the empty, lonely streets of Hawkins, lowly lit from spread apart street lamps and covered in trees. It was times like this, when the moon watched over the world from her highest peak, where it felt like it was just you and him. You and Jonathan. 

No one else could enter this world of yours. The Hawkins outside couldn’t compare to the Hawkins you experienced with him.

His stereo hummed a low tune of a song from the Clash, and somehow you didn’t feel the need to talk. It was fine being quiet with him, sharing this space was more than enough. His right palm found your hand this time, his thumb rubbing the tops of your knuckles ever so gently.

Shuffling closer to him, your cheek met his shoulder, keeping aware of the gear shift to not interfere with the car’s operation. 

“Don’t fall asleep now, we’re not there yet.”

His voice was breathy and soft, careful to not break the tender atmosphere of your world. You hummed as you fought to keep your eyelids open.

“Mm. How much longer?”

“Just a few more minutes.”

You hummed again. His grip on your hand tightened.

"Ok fine, you can sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“Where are we even going?"

You feel him shrug underneath your cheek.

"Not sure yet."

He plants a kiss to the top of your head, his smile embedding itself into your skin. 

"We'll find out when we get there."

You never want the journey to end.

[spicysix]

wrote a lil spicy six polycule for today's prompt of the STWG daily drabble 🥰 couldn't help myself! so. don't like don't read, all that, no warnings cause it's pure fluff!

"Jonathan!" Five voices in unison yelled at him.

He knew that would be the reaction, and he hid his smirk behind the camera.

"You know I gotta be warned, dude!" Steve complained, running his fingers through his hair, sitting on Argyle's lap.

"Don't call me 'dude' when yesterday I had my mouth on your-"

"HEY! No D word in front of me, please and thank you." Robin said without looking up from Nancy's nails that she was painting.

"Hate when you take pictures of me without warning, though," Steve whined again, and Argyle chuckled before nuzzling his nose through Steve's jaw.

"You don't hate it," he said.

Steve rolled his eyes, fighting the smile that wanted to take over his lips. "No, I don't."

Jonathan's own smile was getting harder to contain as he watched the scene unfold in front of him.

Eddie was reading a book, and he didn't look up from it once during the whole conversation. But his own soft smile made it clear that he was paying attention.

"What, I can't take pictures of the people I love the most anymore?" Jonathan asked, pretending to adjust something on the camera's settings.

"You can't use that excuse anymore, it's the same every time." Nancy had her head on Eddie's lap, and her eyes found Jonathan's as she spoke. They were filled with tenderness.

"It's not an excuse, it's the truth," Jonathan answered, and all eyes were on him then.

He let the smile take over his face, eyes wrinkling with all the happiness. It was the truth. And the people in front of him, all looking at him with mirrored smiles, also knew that.

They loved him back just as much.

[spider-stark]

RITE OF PASSAGE

JONATHAN BYERS X READER

Summary - Your best friend, Jonathan, likes you. You like Steve.

Warnings - mentions of sex

JONATHAN HAD never been a fan of Steve Harrington. He had a lot of reasons for his distaste, given that the infamous King Steve was a royal dick. Steve had called Jonathan almost every name in the book, labeling him a pervert and a creep. On top of this, he was never shy about attacking the Byers name as a whole, regularly taking hits at Jonathan’s family. 

Truthfully, his list of reasons to hate Steve was quite literally never-ending. There was only one reason, however, that had the power to make his blood boil; serving as both a reason to hate Steve and a reason to envy him. 

You. 

He wasn’t surprised by your fascination with Steve, especially given the fact that every girl in Hawkins would die for a chance to so much as touch his hair. He just didn’t find it to be very fair, though. 

Steve Harrington already had everything he wanted; money, popularity, a swarm of girls all dying to get on their knees for him, and all Jonathan wanted was you. But, all you could seem to think about was Steve, and that little fact was almost enough to drive him insane. 

“They say it’s like a rite of passage, ya know.” 

Jonathan’s eyes flicked over to you, perched atop his bed while mindlessly tossing an old issue of Teen Beat to the floor. The two of you always spent your weekends like this, cooped up in his bedroom listening to whatever record held his attention at the moment, just passing time together. 

“What is?” He asked, sitting cross-legged towards the end of the mattress. Your legs were laid across his lap as you leaned against the wall behind his bed, your gaze glued to the ceiling while his remained fixed on you, watching as you chewed at a piece of loose skin on your lip. 

You hesitated, ceasing your assault on your chapped lips as they pulled into a coy grin. The sight made his heart flutter in his chest, unintentionally mimicking your expression. “Having sex with Steve.” 

A strangled sort of sound escaped Jonathan’s throat as he threw his head back, the fluttering in his chest now replaced with a familiar sinking feeling. You mistook his frustration as teasing, never having considered that Jonathan thought of you as anything but. 

“I’m being serious!”  You squealed at him, cheeks now flushed as laughter spilled out alongside the words. “I heard Tammy talking to some other girls at lunch, and they all agreed that you just can’t go off to college without the King Steve experience.” 

Jonathan straightened himself back out in time to see you playfully wiggling your eyebrows, clearly more into this conversation than he was. 

He was used to hearing you talk about Steve, and most of the time he did his best to play along so you wouldn’t get suspicious of his feelings towards you. He always listened to you drone on and on about Steve’s car, Steve’s hair, Steve’s clothes, and, once, even Steve’s ass. But conversations like these were the ones he struggled with the most, the ones where he couldn’t quite force himself to play along anymore. 

It made him sick to think about it, the idea of you being just another girl for Steve Harrington to stick his dick in. 

You deserved better than that. 

You deserved him. 

When he didn’t reply, you continued. “And I was thinkinggg-” you drug the word out, scooting down the mattress to get closer to him, “that maybe you and I should go to his party tonight!” 

Jonathan’s face dropped. “You’re kidding, right?” 

“C’mon!” You immediately whined, placing your hand against his knee as you prepared to beg him, looking at him through your lashes. Jonathan was always a sucker for your puppy-dog eyes, but right now he couldn’t focus on anything other than the knot forming in his stomach. “I know it’s not really your thing, but I don’t wanna go alone. You know that going to one of his parties is my best chance to get his attention, plus Tammy already said she’d introduce us and everything! And you don’t even have to stay the whole time! You can leave as soon as Tammy brings Steve over—”

“No!” 

You jumped a bit at the sudden shout, stunned as Jonathan shoved your legs from his lap before rising to his feet. Jonathan rarely ever yelled, especially not at you. 

A frown settled on your lips. “Look, I get you don’t like parties, but you don’t have to freak out-” 

“It’s not about the party, y/n!”  Jonathan interjected again, his hands running through his hair as he began to pace across his room, his mind moving at a hundred miles a minute. “Like, seriously, do you even hear what you’re asking me?” He didn’t give you enough time to respond, already continuing his frantic rant. “You’re literally wanting me to drive you to Steve’s house just so I can keep you company until he decides he wants to fuck you!” 

“Okay,” you raised your hands like a white flag, keeping your voice steady as you followed him with your eyes, still moving from one end of the room to another, “if it’s gonna piss you off this much then you don’t have to take me, alright? I think Nancy’s gonna go, so I can just see if I can hitch a ride with her or something-”

Jonathan’s fingers tightened around his sandy hair, pulling it roughly as another groan escaped him. “I’m not pissed cause you want me to take you!” Your brows furrowed together at his words. “I’m pissed because all you care about is getting with Steve!” He paused his movement, feet coming to a halt as he pointed an accusing finger in your direction, “You’re better than that! You’re better than a fucking easy lay for Steve Harrington!” 

“You’re acting dramatic.” You told him plainly, arms moving to cross over your chest. 

“And you’re acting stupid.” He quickly countered. 

Your eyes only narrowed at him, still trying to keep your cool, not wanting the whole Byer’s household to hear the two of you fighting. “It’s not a big deal, Jonathan! Everyone has flings in high school. And if you had someone you were interested in I would happily help you get with them! So why are you acting like such an ass about this?” 

Jonathan shook his head at your statement, huffing as he spoke. “It’s different.” 

“No, it’s not!” You retorted. “You're just being a dick about this because you don’t like Steve!” 

“It’s not about Steve! I mean, yeah, sure, I don’t fucking like him—but that’s not the point!” Warmth crept up his neck, frustration reaching a boiling point as he struggled with picking his words. “It’s different because you don’t like me!” 

He spoke with such a harshness, his words carrying an unfamiliar edge. It took you by surprise, and left you sinking further into the mattress as you watched his hands fall from his hair to his face, covering his reddened cheeks. The atmosphere had changed now, anger having morphed into discomfort. 

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was low, just a few notches above a whisper. “Of course I like you, Jonathan.” 

His head shook again, rubbing his face as he let his hands fall back to his side. “No.” He told you as if it were a fact. “You don’t. Not the same way, at least. Not how I like you.” He hesitated, looking somewhere over your shoulder, too embarrassed to meet your gaze. “Not how you like Steve.” 

Something cracked in your chest as he spoke, the words lingering in the air between the two of you. Instantly you found yourself filled with a sickening sense of guilt, thinking of all the times you had gushed over Steve to Jonathan, having been so oblivious to his feelings the whole time. Beneath that guilt, though, was something else; perhaps best described as a streak of curiosity as you considered the idea of being with your best friend. 

It was uncharted territory in your mind, a forbidden topic that you had never dared to consider previously, and now that thoughts of it bloomed in your mind, you were a bit shocked to find that you weren’t put-off by it. 

Jonathan, on the other hand, had gone into a full blown panic as he realized what he had admitted. He had bitten his tongue for years now, too afraid to ruin what he did have with you, and now in a single moment he had risked blowing all of it. He took a deep breath and readied himself to find some excuse to leave, maybe lie about needing to pick Will up from Mike’s house, but you spoke before he had a chance. 

“I don’t not like you how I like Steve.” You clarified, sounding vaguely unsure of yourself and awkward. “I just—I don’t know—never knew that you were…” you paused, sighing as you tried to find a way to phrase your thought, “an option.” 

Neither of you had ever done this before, never thought to cross the simple boundary of friendship and venture into something else. Because of this, Jonathan matched you in awkwardness as he replied, “I am.” He cleared his throat, still diligently avoiding eye contact with you. “I mean—if you want me to be, then I am.” 

For a moment you both stayed quiet. You remained planted on the bed, Jonathan still standing across from you, nervously fidgeting with the fabric of his jeans. 

“Okay.” You spoke, breaking through the fairly new silence, sliding yourself back up to the top of his bed. You reached for the floor, your fingers grabbing hold of the Teen Beat you had tossed aside earlier. 

Jonathan finally looked at you, staring as you began to flip through the pages again. “Are you not gonna call Nancy?” 

Your shoulders lifted into a lazy shrug, stopping you incessant flipping as you landed on an article about Molly Ringwald. “The album isn’t over.” You told him, referencing The Clash record he had put on before the two of you had gotten into it. “Besides,” you added on, glancing over the thin pages of the magazine with a playful glint in your eye, “I’m better than an easy lay, right?” 

All he could manage to do was look at you, even after you shifted your attention back to the magazine. Without another word, you patted the comforter beside you with your palm, silently urging him to rejoin you on his bed. 

Maybe he didn’t have to be jealous of Steve after all.

a/n - decided i wanted to start writing for stranger things, so ofc i had to start with my boy jonathan&lt;3 obviously very new to writing for stranger things so bear with me i'll improve ok i promise

steve totally wouldve fallen in love w/ the reader if she went to the party but whatever we will let jonathan have this win ok

[retrodreamgirl]

take your pic | jonathan byers x fem!reader

summary: you find an old box of photos under jonathan's bed OR he always noticed

wc: 1.4k

warnings: fluff, fem!reader, established relationship, best friends to lovers (ish), not proofed, lmk if i missed anything!

⤜♡→

“This photograph makes me severely uncomfortable.” You hum from where you lay splayed on Jonathan’s floor, pulling loose contents from the underside of his bed. The rug is scratchy against your cheek, but you’re far too invested in things lost to Jonathan long since. 

So far you’ve procured an array of thread bracelets, scoffing when you realized they were the ones you’d gifted him a few summers ago when he was hard pressed to find you without the thick imprint of tight string clinging to your sore fingers. Some old mixtapes were shoved to the base of the wall just below his headboard and you just pulled free an old shoebox filled with polaroids. 

The snap of interest is one you weren’t even aware he took, very candid and unflattering in your opinion. You’re laying beneath a large oak that swallows your front yard, nose scrunched and eyes squeezed like you’ve just swallowed your mother’s extra sour lemonade. You can tell it predates your relationship, back when you were nothing more than his closest friend, pining down the collar of his old Ramones t-shirt much to his obliviousness. 

Jonathan leans over the edge of his bed, his attention previously occupied with photos he’d taken with his newest camera. You don’t have time to roll away before the frame is between his fingers and he makes a funny face.

“You look beautiful.” Less of a thought and more of a sure statement, one that sets your cheeks aflame despite his insistence to tell you as much everytime he sees your face. 

Your relationship is easy in that way, reassurances such a constant that it confuses you when anyone comments on the unbridled affection. It existed before you were rewarded with goodnight kisses and the shy scrapbooks Jonathan took to haphazardly putting together when he realized how much you loved to mark the pages with your own recollections in the way of construction paper and gel pens. He spoils you and somehow you’re still greedy for his tenderness, unsure how he hasn’t gotten sick of you by now. 

“Ugh!” You’re so sudden, Jonathan throws himself backwards to avoid your foreheads colliding beside his navy bedspread. He watches you pull to your feet slightly pacing before turning to his taken expression. “You know, you can’t say that right?” 

“That my girlfriend is beautiful? I think I’ve earned that right actually.” 

“No.” You drag the word out, sing-song and matter of fact. You snatch the photo back, scrutinizing the lick of pink protruding from the strap of your tank top, memory resurfacing. “I remember this day! I wore this cute top and a pretty white skirt for you and you didn’t even notice.”

“I’m sure I noticed, I noticed everything you did!” He argues, nonchalantly lifting his camera and taking a shot of you now, like this is a moment he wants to remember. 

If someone were to penetrate the recesses of his brain they would find seventy five percent of it is you, the rest reserved for the things he finds less important but still a necessity for survival. If it weren’t for the way your arms have a habit of shielding your face or your neck finding space in his chest he would have more photos of you than he already does. He’s nearly positive that’s the reason you find the photo in question so unflattering. 

He’s horrified to admit that rather than the ignorance you claim he held to you that day he remembers it and you with as much brilliance as a film projector. The way you were twirling around the yard in your new skirt when he rolled up on his bike, ears covered with headphones spinning your newest cassette. 

Your hands were covered in bracelets and your finger glistened with the ring your parents gifted you for your birthday. It's a family heirloom, I think that means it’s important but it’s just so pretty I have to wear it forever. He glances now and finds it still wrapping your skin, albeit fitting much better than it did back then. 

He remembers your outfit because it struck him in that moment what it meant to love someone. He found it in the way your hand shot out to the protrusion of his nose, gently tapping the buttoned edge before your headphones dipped to your shoulders and richhoched against your collarbones amidst your laughter. 

It followed everything you did that day, looming like the luscious branches of that thick oak that stopped you from burning in the sun. He recalls the chanting in his head that stopped the words that pushed at his cheeks, inquiring about the lump in his throat as a side effect for the sudden cadence thumping in his chest.

He didn’t notice because he couldn’t notice and the remembrance of your pout when you insisted he go home early brings him back to where you’re currently crawling into his lap, straddling his legs. 

“Where’s your head at?” You hush, hands settling on either side of his face to push at the corner of his lips. You soothe the tightness of his muscles with your own lips pushing at each edge, tasting the cherry of his chapstick at the tip of your tongue. “It’s not a big deal, I know you didn’t like me when we were younger. But you love me now so it’s okay.” 

His hands settle at your waist, tracing circles where your shirt rides up to expose bare skin. 

It simply won’t do. The thought that you believe him to have been a young boy too interested in everything but the one thing in his life that he believes to complete the whole. 

“You were mad at me that day, that’s why you made up that excuse about your parents wanting to have a family dinner?” 

“Of course I was. But it doesn’t matter, alls well that—”

“But I did notice.”

“I believe you.” 

“You don’t, but I can prove it.” Jonathan discards you gently to the mattress, pulling the box you abandoned onto the bed. He pushes it forward, imploring you to have a look at the memorabilia stocking the inside. You reach for another photo, this one nearly the same as the last, unflattering, but this time because your back was turned and you were seemingly in the middle of dancing to whatever song was humming in your ears.You pull a few more before the outfit changes to a pretty spring dress you wore to one of Will’s birthday parties. 

“Are all of these…”

“Of you? Yeah.” He realizes how weird it sounds, the implication of a box filled with photos you never knew he’d taken so he backtracks sheepish, cheeks burning with a flame somewhere between passion and mortification. “It’s not anything weird, I promise. Just photos I took when you weren’t looking.” 

“I don’t think you’re helping your case, but I don’t think it’s weird.” You manage a nervous chuckle, shuffling through all the times you thought Jonathan didn’t notice. Like the first time you tried makeup or when you bought a t-shirt with The Clash on it because you knew he was into them. 

It’s a timeline of your worst moments because in your mind they were all fruitless, just another failed attempt to get your best friend to see you as anything more. But to Jonathan they were your best, unawares of the way you were trying to catch his attention, far too taken with the girl who had somehow taken hold of his heart without his knowledge or intention. 

“I always noticed.” He mumbles, sliding the box aside, placing a sweet kiss to your lips. “I just never knew how to tell my best friend I was wildly in love with her. It always seemed wrong, like I could only have one and I didn’t wanna lose my best friend.” 

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing someone knocked some sense into you.” You rest your forehead against his own, lips ghosting where you both smile like absolute idiots. “I’m burning all of these photos though because I look ridiculous.” 

“You’re not touching my photos.” He chimes, swiftly tackling you to the bed, knocking the box from your reach. He buries his nose into your neck, planting kisses against the sensitive skin, reveling in your childish laughter beneath him. 

“Jonathan, they’re so bad!” 

“But they’re just so good!” 

[mrcurystape]

helping jonathan sleep better !

✧･ﾟ: feature. jonathan byers x reader [gn]

✧･ﾟ: cw. fluff ; lowercase, established relationship, uhhh proof read? ..sure

✧･ﾟ: note.  sorry for all the jonathan stuff it will happen again.

back to m.list :p

by the end of the day, jonathan's almost always so tired. juggling school and college applications as well as the stress of whatever bullshit hawkins throws at him is enough to tire someone out. or land them in psychiatric care; something jonathan probably needed by the end of this.

but not even life will grant him the joy of sleeping, so of course, jonathan lays there in bed restless. thank god you’re right there next to him to keep him sane and provide all the much-needed comfort this poor man deserves.

you almost always know when jonathan gets like this; he’ll lay in bed as if he’s a corpse. on his back, stiff as a board, with his arms folded over his chest staring straight up at the ceiling.

the best way to approach him when he gets like this is to simply roll over to face him and gently place a hand on top of his own. jonathan won’t say anything, but you’ve caught his full attention. his breathing slows and he’ll turn his head towards yours.

“hi”

“…hi”

“care to tell me what's on your mind?” you say barely above a whisper, voice still laced with sleep. your fingers gently caress his own. jonathan begins to take your hands in his own and clasps them between both hands before bringing them up to kiss your thumb.

“nothing worth saying,”

“you’re not a very good liar,” you mumble, he chuckles lightly. jonathan stares at your hand while trying to think up an excuse before ultimately giving up.

“you caught me,” jonathan shifts to his side, letting go of your hand and replacing it with your head; gently stroking his thumb against your cheeks, carefully pushing any stray hairs peaking out your bonnet back in. “nothing can ever get past you, huh?” he kisses your forehead with a small smile.

silence fills the room once more. you patiently wait for jonathan to find the words to describe how he feels. a simple, “i’m... just tired” escapes his lips in a hushed tone finally.

you hum in response, moving away from him to open up your arms as an invitation, one jonathan took graciously. his arms wrapped around all of you as he cuddled into your chest, sighting contently once he heard your heartbeat.

you understood what he meant. you’ve reached that point as well. there was no need for jonathan to say anymore if he didn’t want to.

and he didn’t. instead, jonathan decided to enjoy feeling your warm embrace envelope him entirely. he felt the safest when he was with you, knowing you were safe and protected, knowing you were still here to hug him just like this.

the feeling of your fingernails trailing paths and patterns on his scalp was oddly calming. it washed a sense of tranquility over his body. he always did like having his hair played with, you seem to always know the spots to trace circles on.

when jonathan closed his eyes, instead of seeing nightmarish imagery of all the freak shit he’s had to go through during the past few years, he saw nothing but total darkness. for once, jonathan was happy to see a complete void. he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

© em0dere ; 8.6.22

rbs always appreciated!!

[mirclealignr]

the little things | jonathan byers.

“you don’t care it’s just the library in town?” jonathan asked twiddling his thumbs.

“nope!” you assured him, tying the laces to your shoes.

“but you go all the time,” jonathan reminded you, worrying too much about the simplicity of your date.

“not with you i don’t,” you reminded him, “and there’s still a bunch of books i haven’t read in there.”

jonathan tapped his foot against the floor in worry as he waited for you to tie your other shoe and slip your coat on. playing with the keys in his hand until he reached the car, he stuck them in the ignition and sped out of his driveway a little carelessly, but his head was somewhere else. he wondered during the drive if you were really satisfied with such a minimal effort date, but then remembered how happy you seemed to be surrounded by books barely touched by the other inhabitants of hawkins.

“hurry up!” you squealed as he pulled into a parking space outside, “i want to get one of the good seats at the back.”

your excitement only encouraged him, reassured him that he was enough as he was. jonathan hurried after you, opening the door to the library for you and watched you skip past the front desk as if this was home. but it was, in a way—a second home. the librarian barely gave the two of you a second glance, only smiled to herself as she continued her paperwork. traipsing after your quick speed, jonathan found you with already two books in your hand, engrossed in the titles on the shelves in the fiction section, and he offered to hold them for you.

for a while, he was mesmerised by your concentration, by your quiet breathing and little gasps when you found a title that piqued your interest. he hadn't expected to wander off somewhere and leave you to carry your own books, not that you really noticed, but something managed to catch his eye just down the way—a sign that read 'photography'.

he let his curiosity take hold and tiptoed down the aisle where he found a small, tucked away section he had never noticed before. while it was only little, there was plenty there to keep him occupied and satisfied for weeks.

"thought i lost you."

jonathan looked up from page seventeen of his non-fiction book with a sheepish grin, "sorry, i didn't realise they had a photography section," he shook the book in his hand.

"neither did i," you examined the book, "well, bring it with us to our table—i’m all done!"

making a mental note of the paragraph he had left off at, jonathan followed you to your favourite table at the back of the library near the window they always left open for ventilation and sat down opposite you, reading the names of your pile of books.

"looks like you've got some good ones," jonathan smiled, knowing that you knew he had no idea what he was talking about.

you liked his approval nonetheless.

"yeah," you grinned, "i wanna hear all about your cool photography facts, though," you added sincerely.

"sure," he whispered, looking between you and his open book in front of him, trying to suppress the urge to leap over the table and sink his lips into yours—he loved you so much. "you're pretty," was all he could say.

"oh, stop," you giggled, holding out your hand across the table.

jonathan took it, and began to read after you put your head down, gliding the pad of his thumb over your inner wrist.

library account; @mirclesjournal

[cosmal]

spacey jane — send me a lyric and a character and i’ll write a blurb.

lyric: ‘bedsheets, no clothes. touch me like nobody else does’ — ceilings by lizzy mcalpine

character: jonathan byers!! something like waking up next to each other would be so cute I feel. or even like, the morning after their first time or something <3

nobody else does

jonathan byers x reader

summary the morning, after you're first time with jon, doesn't go how you'd expected. it's better.

warnings/tags fem!afab!reader, she/her, references to smut, 18+

There’s something really calming about watching Jon sleep. The part in his lips where his face is smooshed into his pillow, the tousled hair that covers it. The sun that shatters through the blinds and lights up the expanse of his back. The freckles that litter it. How you can see his breathing stutter when his moving back jumps every once in a while.

It’s so calming you almost fall back asleep again. You don’t have enough time when you watch Jonathan wake up. Blinking into consciousness. He’s frowning and then smiling when he remembers where he is.

“Hey,” he says. So quiet you almost miss it. You would’ve if you weren’t tracing the pattern of his soft lips like they might disappear one day. Like you’ll never get to kiss him again.

The past week that’s all it’s felt like. Like you’ll never get to kiss him how you want to. Then last night happened. He’d kissed you because he wanted. Kissed you until he couldn’t breathe — you’re sure you weren’t at one point. And the things he’d said, how he touched you like you were glass.

Y/N, stop. Look at me. Need to see you’re face — yeah there we are, gorgeous.

You smile into your pillow at the thought of it. Giddiness with a mixture of bewilderment. Had you dreamt the entire thing?

“Morning,” he says again because you’re in your head.

You shake back your thoughts before they consume you. If he keeps looking at you like that you might cry.

“Morning, Jon,” you say, hand coming up to his face.

He lets you brush his hair from his face before he says, “How you feeling?”

You remember you’re naked. How your legs ache in a good way. How heavy your stomach feels. “M’okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks. Jon is usually very soft. Though to see him like this is something different. Gentle and delicate in the early morning hours.

“I’m a little sore,” you say shyly, face heating more than the sun has allowed you to. “But I’m okay.”

Jonathan lets the arm between you both come down to sit on your belly, over the thin sheet that covers you, rubbing and massaging the flesh there hard enough to soothe you. It does. Though the thought of him wanting to touch you outside of last night's happenings makes you feel warm. And the almost overwhelming need to cry.

After last night, after all the encouragements and praises he had doted you with, he’d made sure you were comfortable. Made sure you had water and enough pillows. Opened the window so you weren’t hot. He’d stroked your hair until you’d fallen asleep.

You don’t think you've ever spent the night after sleeping with someone, let alone being treated the way Jon had been with you. You almost expected to be kicked out afterwards, despite how lovely he'd been, it’d be nothing different.

Boys can have a way of making you feel like you’re special, deserving of everything they give you just to earn something from you in return. Then throwing you out once they get it. You feel guilty for ever thinking he was like that in the first place.

You don’t even know you’re crying until Jonathan does. He lets his hand roam up to your face to catch your first tear with his thumb, wiping it from the bridge of your nose.

“Hey,” he coos, “you okay?”

You know what’s wrong but you also don’t. Well, you do really know, though the reaction you’ve given startles you. You blink back your tears, smiling.

“Yeah,” you mumble wetly, letting your hand fall on top of his where it’s pressed firmly into your cheek.

“I don’t wanna be annoying,” he almost laughs. It’s more of a animated huff, “but you are crying, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart sits in your chest and has your eyes welling up again. “Sweetheart,” you echo kindly.

“Yeah.” He sounds like he agrees. Like it’s second nature to him. You’ve called him worse. Like baby or lovely.

“M’sorry,” you giggle into his hand, kissing the curve of his palm gently. “Just really happy.”

“Happy?”

You nod and bring a hand up around his shoulder to tug him closer. You bring him in until your chest is touching his, a rumple of sheets between you. Your face in his neck, your shoulder under his arm when he hugs you back.

“You’re really nice, Jon.” It’s not what you want to say. You mean it but the words aren’t right. “Just, um,” You feel silly. “thank you for being so lovely.”

Jonathan has a suspicion he knows what you mean. He feels the exact same way. You’d treated him how he hadn’t expected and he hopes he’d shown how grateful he was for it. Still, he thinks he might continue his appreciation.

“It’s okay,” he says, kissing into your hair. It smells like the conditioner that you use when you're here. His conditioner. He smiles when he remembers when you’d spent the night. You’d used his shower and slept in his bed with him.

He rubs your back. Your shoulders and the space between them. Lines and patterns that have you both shivering.

You’re still crying. Because he’s touching you and it’s different. It’s soft and kind and he’s not doing it because he wants something else. You think he wants to stay here and do nothing but this as much as you do. Maybe even more.

You press your stuffy nose into his neck and sniffle. Jon holds you closer on instinct. You kiss his bare skin and feel his heavy pulse over your lips. “Thanks, Jon.”

“It’s okay, pretty,” he says.

You spend the rest of the day in bed because he wants to. He wants to hold you and he wants to kiss you just as much as you do. Maybe more. You don’t complain.

[luveline]

omg i was in such a sad mood last night and I cried myself sick for no reason and I was wondering if I could make a request for some comfort from maybe Jonathan. Please only write this if you want to or have time ❤️ love you Jadey <33

I hope you're feeling better my love ♥ thank you for ur request, I hope this is OK!

"It's alright," Jonathan insists, looking at you with a mixture of surety and worry. Steadying you, but worried at the same time. "Take a breather."

You try to do what he asks but nothing feels right, lately, or maybe it does but the breathlessness taking up all the space in your chest wants you to think otherwise. He can see it on your face, the thought process, the dawning panic. 

"Hey," he says gently, your joined hands between you, standing in the middle of his room. 

Of all the places you could've broken down, neither of you were expecting it to be in amongst his socks and books. 

"Hey, hey," he says, softer each time. "It's okay. I'm right here." 

"I think it all might be really bad," you say. You laugh but the laugh doesn't last, it cracks down the middle. 

"It's not all bad," he reassures you.

You hang your head. You hate crying in front of him, especially this sort of sobbing, the helpless kind like a little kid poking at their scraped knees. You can't stop thinking about the things that are upsetting you. 

Luckily, Jonathan isn't easily dissuaded. He had to grow up fast, you know that. He's looked after everyone who needed it for years, and he's adept at calming people down. 

"It's okay," he says. 

Jonathan ducks his head, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He's handsome in an understated way, what with his dark eyes, his pert nose. Hair you'd convinced him to let you trim in the name of keeping cool in California curls sweetly under his ears. "Tell me what's wrong?" 

"I just don't feel very well." It's a white lie. You're crying is making you feel sick. It's starting to feel worse than what upset you in the first place. 

"You're not gonna throw up. I know you won't. Here," he walks you backward into his desk chair, "sit down." 

You sit and Jonathan pushes the chair toward his window. He opens it as wide as the hinges will allow to let the breeze kiss your warm cheeks, cooling tears in tacky trails down the slopes of your face and the ridge of your jaw. Jonathan strokes your hair so gently it barely feels like he's touching you at all.

"Sorry," you say. 

Jonathan wipes your cheeks with the side of his hand. He doesn't lift it from your face: careful, he rests the back of it flat to your skin, the short nail of his index finger smoothing against your puffy undereye. You focus on that small sensation, eyes scrunched closed and a pounding misery at your temple. 

"There," he says, taking your face into his palm. "Good job, honey. You really wound yourself up. You scared me." He abandons your damp cheeks in favour of your shoulders, thumbs rubbing the sides of your neck. 

"Jon, you have to stop touching me for a second," you say regretfully. 

He holds up his hands. 

You suck in a big breath and hold it, wiping your face and your snotty nose with your sleeves, brushing baby hairs displaced by sweat back into place. For a few seconds, you sit and try to look less like you're one strong gust of wind from falling over. Jonathan watches anxiously.

You rub your eyes. "Will you hug me now?" you ask.

He kneels at your feet. "I would have hugged you before."

"Didn't want to get snot in your hair," you say, groaning as he wraps his arms behind your back. 

"Ew," he murmurs, the cadence of his voice lilting, like he might sing under his breath. His lips brush the shell of your ear. "I'd let you."

You shiver in his arms, completely collapsed, face digging deeper and deeper into his neck. He doesn't complain, only readjusts his hold to make you more comfortable. 

"It's okay if something's getting to you. You can tell me." 

"What if… I'm upset for no reason?" you ask tentatively. 

Jonathan gives your shoulders a little squeeze and a bigger shake. "That's okay too, duh. Just tell me what to do to make you feel better instead." 

"This is fine," you say, lips pressed greedily to the slip of skin just above his collar. "This is good." 

Jonathan stays there for ages, so long his knees must burn from the position, but he doesn't say a word. He hugs you for as long as you need him to, and then a little bit after that.

[alwaysteveswife]

Hello can you do the prompt "you know we need to talk." "about?" "i don't know...last night, maybe?" With Jonathan Byers x Fem! Reader, in which Jonathan goes to Reader's house and asks her why she run away when they were kissing passionately at Steve's party and she just answers him that she doesn't want to make the same mistake because boys always use her and they don't want to have a relationship, so she quitted to falling in love and find a boyfriend.

a/n: Hi! Thanks for placing the request, I had a lot of fun doing it 😊. I made some modifications with the age (as the order indicated a past with couples, I thought it would be better to make the characters between 23-25) I hope that detail doesn't bother you 😣.

Ps.: I had some difficulties making it, the power went out and my computer was not available, anyway I tried to do the best I could, I hope you like it 🥲.

You knew that playing this stupid game was idiotic, but you never thought it would get to this level. You told yourself it would have been best to quit the game after Eddie almost knocked the wind out of his girlfriend, or when you had to watch Steve almost touch the crotch of your best friend -and his current girlfriend- in his turn.

Yeah, you definitely should have gone home after that, but here you were, taking that empty beer bottle and spinning it around, praying that you'd get anyone but Jonathan, you appreciated him too much to lose him over a stupid teenage game.

You crossed your fingers behind your back, watching the speed of its spinning slow down more and more, until it stopped completely, and shit, you could almost feel the bile coming back up your throat, would it be weird if you got up and ran away? Because you wanted to, no, you needed to get out of this one.

"Oh, this is going to get interesting" Eddie joked, clapping his hands animatedly.

"Shut the fuck up" snorted Jonathan. The alcohol had stained his cheeks pale pink, his hair was slightly messy and his shirt had the top buttons undone for a few minutes. He looked good, too good for your taste.

"Y/N, you don't need to if you don't want to" said your best friend, smiling suggestively at you. She knew very well your past and, much more importantly, how you were feeling lately together with Jonathan.

"She's right" You looked at Jonathan, who had softened his tone and his look after he had scolded Eddie.

An overly stupid idea struck you like a bolt of lightning, short but shocking. You rose from your post, ignoring the cheers of your old friends and settling into Jonathan's lap.

You preferred to ignore the fact that his hands rested shakily on your hips, that his cheeks-formerly pink-now glowed red. You pushed those nonsensical ideas out of your head, repeating to yourself that it would only be a kiss, one just like all the ones you've given before.

You cupped his cheeks and pulled him close to you, barely brushing his lips with yours. The kiss was sweet, at least it would seem so to someone who didn't know it was just a teenage game.

The rule - imposed, of course, by Eddie - was that the kiss had to last at least thirty seconds, to make the moment more fun, according to him. So, when you felt Jonathan relax a little under you, you gently rested the tip of your tongue on his lips, taking advantage of the moment when he gasped so you could go all the way in.

You weren't new at this, for God's sake, you were already 24, a kiss like this you'd had hundreds of times, but, for some reason, you felt it was different from the others. It didn't feel like those other times.

Even though it was a game, he took the trouble to caress your waist, to cup your face between his big hands and give you warmth and security and.... something more.

A pang in your chest accompanied by hundreds of memories of your past love made you pull away as fast as you could. The fear you hadn't felt for so long began to bloom, and he had noticed.

"Alright, who's next?" Robin said cheerfully, her words barely coming out of her mouth with coherence.

With your mind still fuzzy, you got up from the floor and shook out your hair, ignoring the trembling in your legs and hands. That kiss had left you feeling bad, too bad.

"Uhm, I... I think I'll go home, I don't feel so good" you said quietly, quickly stopping your friend when she tried to come after you. "Don't worry, I live nearby, I'll let you know when I get there."

You grabbed your bag and left the house as fast as your feet would allow, trying to stop the incessant pounding of your racing heart. You felt so silly.

When you opened your eyes the next day and realized the mess you had made the night before, you almost fell out of bed, almost. You ran to the bathroom and took the longest shower of your life. You needed to clear your mind and this was the best way for you.

You put on comfortable clothes and sat on the couch in your living room, you stared at a blank spot, hoping you could make an excuse for yesterday's kiss. Sticking your tongue in his mouth was not part of the game.

As you made your coffee - too much of it - a knock sounded at the door. You got up, grunting under your breath, and walked over to it. You peered through the peephole, almost screaming as you saw Jonathan's face on the other side.

"Shit, shit, shit" you groaned under your breath, rushing to close the curtains as quietly as possible. You spun around in circles, looking every 10 seconds at that door you had opened and closed so many times, the same door that, if you touched it now, would ruin your life next to one of your best friends.

"Y/N, I know you're in there, can you open it for me?" Jonathan said, raising his voice so you could hear him perfectly.

"God, shit" you growled, pulling open the curtains again and opening the door, "Jonathan, what are you doing here?" you said with an uncomfortable smile.

"May I come in? I don't think it's appropriate to talk in the middle of the hallway" he said quietly, trying to get you to look him in the face. You did everything you could to stop him from getting his point across.

"Okay, go ahead" you muttered, stepping aside to let him in. You closed your eyes as you smelled the scent of wet earth thanks to being surrounded by forest most of the time. It smelled really good. "Well, would you like something to eat? Or maybe something to drink? I recently bought some really good drinks and-".

"you know we need to talk." Jonathan said, looking at you seriously.

The urge to vomit immediately returned. You pressed your lips together tightly and tried to think of a topic, any topic, but your head was so fuzzy that you just couldn't think of anything.

"About?" you said in a low voice. You felt so miserable and stupid, this had been your fault, you accepted the challenge, you sat on it, you made that brush of lips something far beyond what it should be between two friends.

"i don't know...last night, maybe?" Jonathan moved closer to you, resting his hands on your arms and squeezing them gently, "you can't, no, we can't avoid the subject, it's useless to pretend nothing happened."

You tried to keep your tears from falling by blinking as fast as you could. The flashbacks were coming back, the times when all those idiots rejected you in the worst way, all those friends you lost for doing something similar; you were so scared of losing him now.

"Why not?" You said with a broken voice, looking at the wall next to you, you didn't want to see the disappointment and hate in his eyes, "I know it was wrong, that I went too far, but I don't want to talk about this, I don't want to lose you, you're my best friend and I-".

Jonathan's lips interrupted your spew of words. You gasped in surprise, having to grab his shoulders to keep your balance. It was short compared to yesterday, but the butterflies in your stomach, the nerves, the anxiety, the affection, it was all still there, even a little stronger.

"Y/N" he whispered against your lips, breathing shakily. His eyes, which you could barely make out because of his dilated pupils, looked into your eyes for the first time since yesterday. You felt so small next to him. "Believe me when I tell you I won't walk away from you because of that." He licked his lips, pressing his forehead to yours, "I know you felt the same way I did, I know it was the same reason you wanted to avoid me, but you should know that I would be unable to leave you."

"It scares me" you whispered, pulling away from him a little so you could think better, "I don't... I never had a normal relationship, you know that, all those guys always treated me badly, they cheated on me, I don't feel capable of being able to be in a relationship with someone, I don't want to lose you, not you".

His gaze softened, this time he let his hand fall on your head, leaving a soft caress on it.

"In that case, let me prove to you that I can be the first to be serious with you, to treat you the way you truly deserve" he smiled sweetly, making your cheeks warm and your heart race, "give me a chance to make you happy."

Masterlist.

[mayfieldss]

Okay but that jj fix had me crying(the one with cancer)

My mascara smudged

Anyways

Am I allowed to request a Jonathan Byers x fiance/wife reader🥹

I only see gf/bf ones out there and I just love him sm

Where reader gets nightmares(never had had a good dream before) and she can't wake up from them so in the morning when she does wake up she wakes up in a cold sweat?

This is literally me and I never see shit like this on Tumblr or Wattpad so it's be nice to have me some comfort🥹

Jonathan like comforts her and calls all the kids and like Steve, and Nancy to come over and they all have this huge sleepover. They make a huge tent inside their house with blankets(reader and Jonathan live alone)

And they all sleep in there (ofc Jonathan and reader sleep next to each other)

And she wakes up super late and when she wakes up, Jonathan is still by her side and the kids have gone home by then and they just cuddle away because she finally had a good dream

She just talks about it all day and he's just so happy and he's smiling the entire time

IS IT TOO MUCH? you honestly done have to write this because of how long it is. I just write a little then more comes to my head and I write more🥹

I am so sorry the JJ fic made you cry. It really was an emotional thing to write. This request is literally the cutest thing ever though so hopefully, it can make you feel better. <3

Peaceful - Jonathan Byers

"I won't forget the feeling of staying up with you, despite the space between us. I've never felt this close to someone, what if you're my weakness?" - Gracie Abrams

You were Jonathan Byers' pride and joy, and the day he asked you to marry him, he was so worried you would turn him down. The thought of it raged around his head and left him scared beyond measure, but when he finally got around to asking, you'd said yes. You said yes, with tears streaming down your cheeks as joy consumed you both, and all seemed well between you. And it was, but even then, with everything going right in your life, you still had the nightmares. They plagued you, an inescapable thing that chased you at all hours of the night, and no matter how hard Jonathan would try, he could never wake you. They scared him half to death sometimes, when you would cry out or call his name in such a desperate tone whilst trapped within sleep. You were frightened by them more so, and every morning, you would wake with the memory of just how horrible your night had been. Jonathan would always be beside you when you awoke, even if it made him late for work to do so. He loved you far more than he loved his job and didn't care for keeping it if it meant he had to leave you alone in some of your most vulnerable moments.

But it was one night's bad dream in particular that left you shaking when you the morning came. It was horrible and recalling it when you shot upright, a cold sweat dampening the sheets beneath you, almost made you cry. Your breathing was shallow as you sat up in your bed and when Jonathan pulled you into his arms you didn't protest. You knew it was him without a doubt, the feeling of him near you unmatched by anything else, and as he embraced you, you found it just that bit harder not to break down. You'd dreamt that Jonathan had been taken, a Demogorgon dragging him into the upside down whilst you were left to scream after him, unable to move. You were stuck in one place, paralyzed and watching the scene unfold, and it was by far one of the worst night terrors you'd ever had. And with Jonathan holding you now, the thought of losing him became all the more terrifying than it was before.

That was what made you cry. You did it silently, tears falling from your eyes as your breath caught in your throat, and Jonathan kept you close, holding you throughout it all and whispering sweet words, anything he could, to calm you down. It worked eventually, and when you parted from him, you could see the concern in his eyes. He loved you too much to watch you suffer like this, and with every bad dream you had, his heart ached further. But today was Jonathan's day off, and he'd be damned if he wouldn't create a masterful plan to make you feel better.

And that is how Jonathan ended up calling his little brother Will, planning out something that just might make your nightmares go away. Will was all in with the idea and grouped the rest of the party together whilst Jonathan got into contact with the others around your age. He called Steve, Nancy, and Robin one at a time, and broached the idea to each of them, and when they heard what had been going on, they were more than happy to help.

You'd gone shopping for the afternoon, gathering up some essential items for your near-empty new house that you shared with Jonathan, and when you got back, you were beyond surprised to see what was behind the door. Inside your home were a bunch of smiling faces, all with their own pillows and blankets ready to spend the night. It startled you, but when Jonathan approached, planting a sweet kiss on your cheek, everything felt that much better.

"They're all spending the night, I figured a little fun and some company might take your mind off things." He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a hug as the others set up their things, and you nod into his chest, so grateful for the setting before you.

It's more fun than you ever thought it could be, and Jonathan pulled out all the stops when it came to the extraordinary sleepover. It was almost possible to believe that he'd stolen every blanket and pillow from the town of Hawkins, your house full of them as everyone participated in making the biggest blanket fort known to man. Dustin insists that he be the head architect, instructing everyone on how to correctly place the pillows for the best structural integrity, all the while Max and Lucas bully him for taking such a thing so seriously. Nancy puts herself in charge of making snacks, disappearing off into the kitchen without a second thought despite your protests for her company, and when she returns, she has two batches of chocolate chip cookies ready and warm for everyone to eat. That's the snack break everyone takes before heading back into the intense building process of the fort, where Robin decides that fairy lights are nessacary to complete the masterpiece. She's right about it, too, because when you've strung them up all around, it truly is perfect.

"You know, if you'd all listened to my instructions, we could have made the pillow chimney work." It's Dustin, still critiquing the blanket house despite its beauty. His comment makes you laugh, even more so when Max replies, the girl curled up between the legs of her boyfriend, Lucas.

"I swear to god Dustin if you ruin our fort unveiling with your stupid comments, I will cut you." The redhead looks deadly serious, though you think she's too comfortable with Lucas to actually move. It shuts Dustin up anyway, and you get comfortable beside Jonathan, curling up in the blankets that are left over from the fort as the night draws nearer. The fairy lights glow brighter as the sky outside darkens and it is something so beautiful that you aren't afraid to close your eyes. So, as the others gather around, prepping for sleep in the giant fort themselves, you let your eyelids slip shut, head on Jonathan's chest as you listen to his gentle breaths. It's peaceful for the first time in months, and as you drift off you think that nothing can feel better.

When you wake up, though, you realize there is something that can be. That night, the night of the great sleepover, pillow fort fiasco, you had a dream. A good one that had you opening your eyes in the morning without the fear of the previous night's events. It was so startling to you that once you fully gathered your bearings, you shot upright as though you had, in fact, had one of your common nightmares. Jonathan sits up as soon as you do, grasping your shoulders in concern, only for you to turn to him with one of the widest smiles he's ever seen grace your lips.

"You okay, baby?" he gives your shoulders a squeeze, but seeing you happy warms him deep inside. He smiles too, the expression slowly growing when you speak.

"I had a dream, a good one." It seems so impossible, but there you are awake after a good night's sleep. A really good night's sleep. It amazes you but you're beyond happy, and the pleasant emotions that run through your veins as you recall what you can about the dream are such a foreign feeling, but you love the way it does feel, and you never want it to stop.

"That's so great," Jonathan pulls you into him, and you hug him just like you have a thousand times before on mornings like this, except this time everything is perfect, you're happy, and you're comfortable.

"Wait, where are the others?" Your eyes drift to the wide empty space of the fort you're in, free of all your other friends. There's a breathy laugh released from Jonathan as he holds you close, mumbling against your hair.

"You slept for a while, honey. They all went home."

"Oh," The word leaves you softly before you realize what a good night you had, and your mood picks up once more. You shuffle around in Jonathan's embrace, kneeling in front of him as you hold his hands in yours. "My dream was so sweet, you were there and so were the kids and your mom too—" and just like that you're off, rambling on about the first good dream you've had in far too long. You think about it for the rest of the day too, and when you and Jonathan go to get lunch, you bring it up again. You just can't believe it happened, and Jonathan can't either, his cheeks aching from the smile he's held for the remainder of the day. He's never seen you this happy and content with the night you'd had, and it brings him a sense of peace that there's a chance you could have many more nights like it in the future.

He's in awe of the smile you carry and the way you cling to him with such joy as you walk through the streets of Hawkins. He loves the way you're so excited to sleep again, in the hopes you'll have another dream with him in it, and can't help but stop in the street just to kiss you. Because he needs to show you in some way just how happy he is that you are happy too, and kissing you is the best way he knows how. You don't object to the affection, and it's no surprise that this is one of the best days you've ever had. You hope for many more like it.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @heliads @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @hiya-itsamber @s00buwu

STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST: @buckys2thicc @browneyes528

JONATHAN BYERS TAGLIST:

[ddejavvu]

m.list - jonathan byers

blurbs:

you meet jonathan's mom

[moonlitmeeks]

okay okay , so I was literally crossing my fingers to see if you write for jonathan byers or not bc I love this man so much.

sooooo, what about jonathan & the reader being in a relationship but jonathan isn't so sure the reader loves him bc he's seen as a freak and a loner in school. BASICALLY just a headcanon or smth about the reader comforting & reassuring him :))

STICK your mind n ideas never fail to amaze me??? crying rn over this i adore it sm -hopefully this is okay<33

you've been with jonathan for a couple of months, and in your eyes he's everything you could want in a boyfriend and more. he's so attentive, genuinely listening to and caring about every word you say, no matter if its important or a tired rambling. he's kind, too, always putting you first and finding little ways to make you smile. you've never felt more appreciated.

so when you notice him acting a little strangely around you, you're concerned that maybe he's having second thoughts. you bring it up to him tentatively, trying to put on a brave face and asking if he's tired of you or something. his eyes widen and he's shaking his head so fast, the truth tumbling from his lips at a million words a minute.

your heart breaks at his confession, that he's scared he's too much of a freak, a loner, a loser, to be with you. that maybe you're with him simply because you feel bad breaking things off with him.

you pull him into your chest, peppering kisses to his warm skin and the top of his head, muttering reassurances. you tell him everything you've wanted to say the past few months: how you love the way his hair falls into his eyes, how passionate he is about his photography, how he stares at you when he thinks you aren't looking.

jonathan turns to look at you with a wide smile, and his lips are on yours, where they belong.