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snarkwrites · 4 years

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i think i love you | jonathan byers

AUTHORS NOTE:

I guess I’m back to writing / posting? I got this idea a few days ago while binging Stranger Things on Netflix and it wouldn’t leave me alone, so here. Have it. I lowkey want to write a fic using Jonathan Byers and my OC, Charlotte, but.. Idk yet if I’ll be doing it? So yeah.

FANDOM :

Stranger Things

PAIRING:

Jonathan Byers x OFC, Charlotte.

WARNINGS:

Awkward, make me gag cute and clumsy fluff ahead. Honestly, I don’t know what to think about this but it’s out and I can’t take it back now? Beyond that, I don’t really know what else I could possibly warn about.

TAGGING:

uhhh... for now, I’m gonna tag @rampagewriting but if you’re interested in seeing more, yeah.. hmu or comment or something, idc. [ tag list doc ] < that’s the doc for my taglist, if you wanna check it out.

Edit: I’m also tagging @chasingeverybreakingwave because they asked and I love them!

“I can do this. What’s the worst that could happen? At least if I tell him, it’ll finally be out of my head and I can start trying to deal with it and get over it.” - I muttered that to myself as I gulped and stared intently at the door to the Byers house.

I raised my hand to knock but I lowered it, tugging at my hair, my head tilted to the side as I laughed at myself quietly. I turned and started to walk back to my Mustang just in time to hear the door open behind me and Jonathan calling my name.

,, Shit.” it hadn’t occurred to me that someone might actually open the door. I had no idea what to do now. ,,This is a bad idea, a very bad idea. It’s the worst idea you’ve ever had, Charlie. Leave now!”

My feet didn’t seem to be in an obeying mood though, so rather than continue walking back to my car, I found myself turning around, meeting Jonathan’s curious gaze.

“Charlie?” he called out to me, bringing me to a dead stop as I turned back. I immediately wanted to kick myself when I did it, but despite all my efforts, I couldn’t move. I almost felt like my feet were frozen to the grass beneath them and had grown roots.

“Yeah?” I answered, biting my lip and swearing to myself quietly as the wind kicked up just a little bit around us. I was an idiot to just dash out of my grandparents house without the first thought of a jacket.

“Is everything okay?” he asked the question, his gaze changing from curious to one of concern as he stepped out of the house and shut the door behind him.

The wind picked up a little more and I hugged myself.

He was walking towards me and the closer he got, the more my heart leapt into my throat. My fight or flight reflexes were starting to kick in and I nearly just bolted and made a run for the Mustang, but just as I started to actually do that, Jonathan came to a stop in front of me.

“I thought you had a date with Billy.” Jonathan tried to mask it, but the annoyance crept into his tone and he gave the slightest roll of his eyes.

“And I thought you were out with Nancy.” I babbled, wanting to kick myself almost the second the words left my mouth. Especially given they sounded more than a little bitter and that only made me feel even more pathetic.

“No, why would I be?” he looked confused, eyeing me with a raised brow. I blew out a breath and swallowed hard as I tried to make words form. But nothing was coming and I was beyond frustrated. The thunder crackled overhead and I jumped. Jonathan nodded towards his mom’s house and eyed me. “We could move this inside.” he questioned, rubbing his arms because he’d walked outside without a jacket himself.

“We could, but I.. Maybe I should just go...” I fumbled around for words. Every part of me still wanted to bolt for my car.

“Charlie, are you okay? It’s almost 9.” Jonathan was looking me over in concern and I gulped, sucking in a breath as his eyes met mine. Why was this a million times easier in my head?

“Yeah. I mean no. I don’t know, okay?” I babbled again, kicking myself mentally and shaking my head as I took a deep breath and prepared to just launch into what I’d come to tell him. At this rate, launching into what I came to say seemed infinitely easier than going through the whole calm and rational speech I’d spent the entire five and a half minute drive to his house going over in my head.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Did Billy do something?” Jonathan tensed a little and I gave a quiet laugh, shaking my head no as I answered quietly, “No. I,uhh.. I went to meet him like I planned but I got there and I bolted?”

Jonathan rubbed his chin, going into deep thought. “Is it your grandparents? Did your mom show up or something? You look upset.”

“No, no and no, I’m not upset I... Just..” I took a deep breath and paused to try and pull myself together. That’s when I noticed that somewhere in this whole thing, either I’d migrated closer to him or he’d migrated closer to me. Either way, I was slightly pressed against him and he was staring down at me, intently. He looked really worried now.

,, Smooth, Charlotte. Real smooth.” the thought came and made me feel guilty.

He muttered quietly, “We’re goin’ inside. You’re shaking.”

All I could do was nod and follow him into the house. I didn’t even realize I was that cold honestly. I was just hyper-focused on saying what I came to say and finally getting it off my chest.

It wasn’t supposed to be this hard to tell someone you love them. And maybe it wouldn’t be if I weren’t so afraid to completely mess up a perfectly good friendship. I didn’t want to lose Jonathan as a friend, but if I kept the way I felt locked away inside, it was going to make things awkward.

He led me down the hall and into his room, the door shutting behind him quickly. I went right back to pacing a hole through the thinly carpeted floor until he reached out, his hands gripping at my upper arms carefully but firmly. He made me look at him and after a few seconds of my mouth opening and closing and a lot of babbling that made zero sense at all, I blurted it out.

“I think I love you okay? I think I love you and Christ, it scares me. I realize that saying it like this is kind of pointless and that you’re probably going to start keeping your distance now, I just… I had to say it. I thought maybe if I said it,” I stopped to take a few deep breaths, mid ramble, “Then I could start trying to get over it before things get even more awkward between us.”

After it was all out, I sank down to sit on the edge of his bed and I stared intently at the floor, not daring to look up at him. He was the one pacing now, and every now and then he’d stop and look at me, his mouth would open and close and he’d seem to want to say something, but nothing would come out.

The thunder crackled loudly overhead as lightning lit up the sky and made the windows shake. Given that he wasn’t saying anything, I stood. I was fully prepared to leave. My hand was on the knob when his hand closed over the top of mine gingerly and I felt his chest pressing into my back a little.

“I should go. I shouldn’t have bothered you. This was..” I trailed off as he turned me around, made me look up at him.

“It was what?” he finally asked after a long and tension – filled pause.

I couldn’t answer. I mean, I tried but my mouth opened and closed and nothing came out. Despite the fact that I obviously needed to be leaving and this had possibly just made things even more awkward and tense between us, I stepped closer to him, my body brushing against his sending a shiver racing through my spine. My head tilted and I stared up at him, waiting. I didn’t even realize I was sort of holding my breath again until he spoke up, shattering the heavy silence between us.

“How long have you.. felt like this?” Jonathan asked the question quietly, stepping a little closer to me.

“A long time, okay? I mean, when we were kids, I just thought it was a crush. Then I moved back last year and I… It kind of came back. And grew...” I admitted quietly, taking a few shaky breaths.

“You didn’t say anything.” Jonathan muttered, trying to work through everything I’d just dumped on him. I eyed the door, feet shuffling against the thin carpet. I couldn’t help but look down as I shook my head no.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know? I tried once or twice but there was so much going on I just kind of… backed out?” I answered quietly. His fingertip tucked beneath my chin, and he guided my face upward so I had to make eye contact again.

The doorknob to his room rattled and Jonathan eyed it, then looked back at me. For a second I thought he’d look and see who was outside, but instead he called out to them “Just a minute.” and turned his attention back to me, stepping closer all over again.

I stepped closer too, looking up at him. He bit his lip and his eyes drifted down from my eyes to my mouth. My heart was beating so hard and fast I was almost afraid it would explode. “Jonathan?” I managed to stammer out quietly, holding my breath and trying to fight the urge I had to raise to tiptoe and plant a clumsy kiss at the corner of his mouth.

I don’t know which one of us stepped closer first, but I couldn’t resist the urge anymore and the next thing I knew, I was raising to tiptoe, dragging my fingers through his hair and my mouth settled against the corner of his. I immediately thought I’d done it, I’d gone too far, but when I went to step down and pull back, his hands settled at my side and on my cheek as he bent down, pulling my mouth completely against his. The soft smack of his teeth against mine as my lips parted had me giggling quietly.

It all felt like a dream and I half expected myself to wake up in my room at my grandparent’s house at any second.

When that didn’t happen, I wrapped my arms around his neck, body melting against his as my tongue traced lazily over the outline of his mouth. Jonathan groaned quietly, one of his hands resting against my cheek after brushing bangs out of my eyes and his forehead resting against mine.

The storm intensifying outside went completely unnoticed by both of us. Everything seemed to slow down and melt away, fading deep into the background. His tongue slipped past my lips to meet my tongue and I pressed against him even more, my hand lowering and resting palm down against his tee shirt before I clutched at thin fabric and used my grip to keep myself steady, to pull myself even closer.

When the kiss broke and we pulled away, we were both gasping for breath, wide-eyed and staring at each other in a mixture of wonder and shock. For a few seconds that seemed to turn into hours, neither one of us said anything.

Then Jonathan spoke up quietly, catching hold of both my hands, interlocking our fingers together as he put his forehead back against mine. “I think I love you too, Charlie. And there’s nothing to be scared of, okay?”

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers fanfiction #jonathan byers oneshot #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers & ofc fanfiction #jonathan byers & ofc oneshot #// i feel like this is horrible and it's going to be a flop but hey it's out #// sorry I put ya'll through the torture of reading this lmao.#// seriously i'm lowkey proud of it #// even if it's not the best

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acuaticamber06 · 6 years

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A Doctor’s Weakness

Starring Henrik Von Schneeplestein and Jackieboy Man

***

“Doc-!” Jackieboy Man grunted with the effort of movement as he shuffled down the hallway towards Henrik’s room. “You were right! The Riverside gang was a little...over enthusiastic...”

He had his right hand clamped down on his left arm, the only thing keeping it from hanging limp from what he was sure was a broken shoulder. His breathing came in short, painful bursts, thanks to the many hits he took to the rib cage. A few cuts bled through the ripped fabric of his suit, staining it a darker red in places, and he could feel the tender tingling beneath what would soon be several very impressive bruises. His mask was also on the verge of slipping off his head, as one of the gang members had tried to unmask him during the fight. That guy had gotten a mouthful of elbow. Jackie wasn’t entirely sure the dude’s teeth weren’t still embedded in that elbow. It hurt, too.

“I stopped them, of course, but they made me work for it.” His forced bravado ended in a sigh and he paused in front of the door. “Doc?”

There was no response. Jackie tilted his head and listened, but he couldn’t hear any noise coming from Henrik’s room.

“Doc, are you in th-” He gently nudged the door to the room open with his good shoulder, but it gave way faster than he was expecting. He lost his balance, stumbling into the room. Jackie swore as he bumped into Henrik’s desk, toppling a stack of papers and journals that scattered across the floor.

“Shit shit shit-!” Jackie dropped to his knees, injuries momentarily forgotten.

Henrik kept his room in immaculate condition. Jackie figured it was a by-product of being in medicine. Everything was neat and organized. The bed was made, the floor was clear, and there were bookshelves and cabinets lining the walls, each tidy and clean. It almost looked staged; as if no one actually used the room.

Everything was perfect, until you got to desk. There were a few different stacks of papers and journals, random papers here and there, some with coffee rings, all mixed in with pens and medical reference books. But he knew from experience that there was a specific order to that small chaotic space, and if Jackie screwed it up, he’d be on the receiving-end of the good doctor’s wrath.

He did his best to put the stack back the way it had been before he bumped it with his one good hand, but it was a hopeless task. He had no idea which papers went where.

A few things had flown as far as under Henrik’s bed, so Jackie carefully crawled over to fish them back out. The last piece was a leather-bound journal, and it was so far beneath the bed that Jackie had to lay on his stomach to reach it. The distant thought that he might be bleeding on the doc’s pristine carpet crossed his mind. He hoped he wasn’t. He gritted his teeth and stretched, finally getting a hold of the edge of the cover, and pulled it towards him.

Jackie gasped softly. The journal had opened in the fall, and he couldn’t believe what the pages contained. It was a beautiful, anatomically correct sketch of a ginger plant. The sketch was colored, depicting the slender stems, sweeping green leaves, petite yellow flowers, and the extensive root system. To the right side of the pages, Henrik had listed its name and all of the plant’s medicinal properties.

“Pain reliever, anti inflammatory, antibacterial, anti fungal... no wonder all of his home-made treatments have ginger!” Jackie murmured. “And I complained the last time he made me ginger tea...”

He lifted the corner and turned the page. He knew he shouldn’t. These journals were obviously personal. No one had any idea that Henrik could draw as well as he did; he’d never shown his art to anyone. But Jackie couldn’t help himself.

Page after page of gorgeous illustrations unfolded before him. Plants, animals, human organs and systems...all drawn with technical precision, but also with passion. They practically radiated with it. Jackie completely lost track of the time, he was so absorbed in the art. It wasn’t until he came to the last page that he was pulled up short.

It was him. Henrik. A self portrait of his face. His eyes were shut, and his face was twisted with pain and sorrow. Dark bags sagged beneath his eyes, his hair was unkempt, a five o’clock shadow shaded his cheeks...and red flowers spilled out of his mouth, almost as if he was on the brink of vomiting them out.

The sketch, while beautiful, evoked a heartache Jackie couldn’t name, yet somehow it lanced straight through his core. His eyes wandered up to the title at the top of the page.

“‘Hanahaki’?” Jackie read, his eyebrows creasing beneath his mask. “Isn’t that the fictional flower disease?”

At first glance, he thought the red flowers we poppies, but the description next to the picture told a different story.

“Anemone Coronaria: Windflower. Meanings: Undying love, sickness, forsaken.”

Forsaken?

To the left of the page, Henrik had also listed all of the symptoms of the disease, going into detail about how the roots of the flowers could invade the internal organs of the afflicted, causing them to bleed and drown in that blood. The section that outlined the treatment was a single sentence that stood alone:

“Can be removed surgically along with all of the feelings the patient has for their beloved.”

Jackie sat back, his good hand hugging around his torso. His heart broke for his friend all over again.

He still loves her.

The divorce had been rough on Henrik, but he was never one to talk about his feelings. Jackie could tell he was hurting, though. People were rarely ever able to hide their emotions from him. After he found out she cheated on him, Henrik let his wife leave without so much as a whimper, and he threw himself back into his work as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

Jackie closed the journal and buried it in the stack. He wanted so desperately to be there for Henrik... to talk about this. The doc had been his guardian angel and his own shoulder to cry on more times than Jackie could count, but never once had he opened up about himself. Jackie never pressed. He wanted Henrik to feel comfortable around him.

But how can I tell him I’m worried about him now...without offending him?

Jackie’s throbbing shoulder brought him rapidly back to his injuries. When he staggered to his feet, his head swam and his vision blacked out for a few seconds.

Whoa...first thing’s first: I need help.

Jackie sat down on the doc’s bed and pulled out his phone. After he sent a text to Henrik about where he was and the extent of his injuries, he gingerly laid down on the soft duvet. Despite the pain and the worry, it wasn’t long before Jackie was asleep, his body needing rest more than anything else.

***

“Ach, mien held...” Henrik whispered when he stepped into the doorway and saw the state of his room and the hero laying in his bed. He’d left the hospital as soon as he got Jackie’s text, knowing full well how fragile Jackie could be after a fight.

Guilt plagued the doctor as he gently examined the hero’s wounds, trying not to wake him. Jackie must have cried himself to sleep. Henrik could see the dried tracks where the tears had streaked his face.

Jackie needed time for an emotional release after battle. It was an outlet for all of the pain, both physical and emotional, that he was hyper-sensitive to. Whenever he came home this badly injured, he didn’t have time to get it out of his system, and he would break down right there in front of Henrik.

The doctor had gotten a lot better at comforting his friend when he needed it. The first time it happened, he remembered feeling like he was having an out-of-body experience, watching himself helplessly holding the sobbing man. He couldn’t connect with any emotion in the moment, which made consoling Jackie a difficult thing to do.

Now, of course Henrik knew why. The problem was that he’d shut himself off from his emotions. All of them. He knew it was an unhealthy coping mechanism; he wasn’t an idiot. But it was safer that way. No one could hurt him if he couldn’t feel anything to begin with.

Gradually, however, he had allowed himself to care about Jackie. Jackie didn’t judge him. He didn’t ask questions or expect him to relive the past. Jackie lived in the moment, noticing the little details and finding joy in the smallest things.

Henrik followed a long cut around the hero’s arm, gently turning it over to get a better look at the wound. Jackie’s hand relaxed, and a tiny origami star tumbled between his fingers and onto the bed. A ghost of a smile crossed the doctor’s face, and he picked up the gift.

Jackie had been leaving him miniature origami art every time he came to visit, whether for treatment or company. The first one had been a tiny crane that Jackie had perched atop his desk lamp.

***

Henrik blinked at the miniature bird.

“Vat is zat?”

“A present for you!” Jackie grinned.

Henrik turned puzzled eyes up at the hero, squinting a bit. His lamp didn’t cast light very far past the surface of the desk.

“...vhy?”

“To remind you to stop and smell the roses.” Jackie tapped the rather tall pile of completed paperwork, beginning to lean precariously close to his coffee mug.

Henrik reached out and straightened the stack, picking up the mug.

“My vork must be done, Jackie.” He took a sip of the coffee and winced. It was ice cold.

“I know that, and I know it’s important.” Jackie’s eyes stared off into the distance for a moment.

Henrik knew what he was thinking about. Who he was thinking about. Jackie’s eyes focused back on the doctor.

“But you should take breaks and get rest! What is it you always tell me when I want to take off right away after a fight to bring down more criminals?”

Henrik sighed heavily and removed his glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose. “‘A vell-rested body can achieve zee impossible. Anysing less makes you mediocre at best.’”

Jackie mouthed silently along with the doctor’s words. It was Henrik’s go-to phrase for the hero who never seemed to know when to quit, and something he repeated to the man constantly.

“But, Jackie, zis paperverk-“

“I know, I know. It’s important. Lives are at stake.” Jackie adjusted the tiny crane on top of the lamp and turned to leave. “But one of those lives is your own, Henrik.”

He paused before shutting the door. “If you change your mind, we’re setting up to watch a movie downstairs. You should join us.”

***

Henrik stood and walked over to the bookshelf next to his desk. Stretching, he took a ceramic jar off the top shelf and opened it. Inside was every miniature origami piece that Jackie had ever left for him. Stars, cranes, frogs, hearts...there were so many different designs. He dropped the new star in with the rest and replaced the jar.

Retrieving his first aide kit, he returned to the bed and gently shook Jackie’s shoulder.

“Ja-“

The hero sat up with a screech, and Henrik stepped back, startled. Jackie slowly turned to look at the doctor, cradling his shoulder, his face screwed up with pain.

“...Ow.”

Henrik worked hard to suppress the smile that was threatening to appear.

“Guten morgen, mein freund.” Henrik offered Jackie a hand to stand up. “Vee schall have to visit zee hospital zis time. Did I not tell you zee Riverside gang vould be too much for you?”

***

Henrik could feel his shoulders beginning to relax as soon as he put his key into the front door. Work was over, he was home, and he could finally take some time for himself.

It had been a difficult week since Jackie’s run-in with the Riverside gang. Not only had he fractured his clavicle and his scapula, but he’d injured tendons and muscles in the joint as well. Treatment for such an injury was supposed to be simple, but Jackie was a difficult patient, always trying to do too much too soon. Keeping him still was almost impossible.

He let his coat slip from his shoulders as he walked down the hallway towards his room. He was really looking forward to changing his clothes and taking a very hot shower. A sick child had vomited all over his pants, and even after changing into his spare set of scrubs, he still felt gross. He reached out to open the door when a voice suddenly spoke up behind him.

“So, I heard you like Hanahaki?”

The heat of embarrassment crashed over him in tsunami-sized waves, turning his face a shade of red reserved for tomatoes and cinnamon candies. The Hanahaki sketches only happened in his lowest, darkest moments. They were private. The only way anyone could have found out about his fascination with the fictional disease was if they had been reading his journals, invading his privacy, violating his trust. He spun on his heel, unsure whether he was going to yell about the violation or deny the claim entirely, only to have all of his thoughts come to a screeching halt.

Jackie was leaning flirtatiously against the wall, on the shoulder that wasn’t all tied up in a sling, with a long-stem rose held between his teeth as if he was about to invite Henrik to tango. After a beat, he grinned out from behind the flower and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The laughter that bubbled up out of Henrik in short barks came as a complete surprise. He should be angry. Offended. But here he was, laughing so hard that tears were swimming in his eyes. Jackie joined him, removing the rose from his mouth and gripping his arm to steady his shoulder as the laughter vibrated his chest.

The doctor was doubled over, holding his stomach when the laughter finally died down to a lightly-pained wheeze. His abdominal muscles actually hurt.

“Now, before you say anything, I know you’re angry with me.” Jackie’s voice was serious and low. “It was an accident. When I knocked into your desk, one of your journals fell open on the floor. And I’m sorry that I looked. It was none of my business.”

Henrik straightened to look at the hero, his face blank.

“But I just want you to know that I’m here for you if you ever need me, Henrik.” Jackie pushed on, nearly pleading. “You are my closest friend, and I’m worried about you. I want to help if you need it. If you’ll let me. Please let me.”

Henrik stood unmoving beside the door. A silence settled between them, and Jackie winced, shying away slightly like a dog seeing a rolled up newspaper swinging down at him.

“Okay, man, go ahead. Yell at me. I know you’re upset-“

Henrik swiftly dropped his briefcase and carefully wrapped the hero in a hug. It happened so quickly that at first Jackie just stood there, stunned. But he returned the gesture as soon as his senses came flooding back to him.

“Sank you.”

They couldn’t be seen in the privacy of Jackie’s shoulder, but Henrik’s tears of laughter had become those of gratitude, and spilled over onto his cheeks.

They stayed there for a long moment, the clock ticking in the living room the only sound that echoed down the hall. Finally, Henrik patted Jackie’s back and straightened, taking him by the good arm to guide him into the room.

“Come now, my friend.” He smiled. “Let us examine vat progress you have made.”

“Does this mean I can get rid of the sling?” Jackie asked hopefully.

The doctor snorted.

“Nein.”

“Aw, come on, Doc!”

***

This ficlet was born from two thoughts I had late at night: what if Henrik liked Hanahaki, and what would happen if one of the other Egos found out? It started off comical, but soon became rather serious and sweet, the more I explored their relationship. I really think they would be best friends. (PS: “Ach, mein held” translates roughly to “Oh, my hero”. I hope. ^_^;;)

I’m tagging a couple of people who I think would be interested in reading this. If you weren’t, I apologize! Let me know what you think! @droid-dreamer @egopocalypse @allykatsart

#jacksepticeye #jse community #jacksepticeye community #jackieboy man #henrik von schneeplestein #hanahaki #fanfiction #fanfic

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