i’ll stop the world and melt with you

AJ (she/her)

[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Welcome | Navigation

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Hi! I’m AJ, a ravenclaw, in cabin 6, an avid reader, a superhero geek, and a lover of all things nerdy

divider by: @strangergraphics

MASTERLIST

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

ੈ✩‧₊˚ More Than Words - fluff, hurt/comfort

Jonathan Byers

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Jonny - fluff, hurt/comfort, PLATONIC

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Cherry - slight angst, slight hurt/comfort

Harry Potter (Golden Trio Era)

Percy Weasley

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Stop Thinking - hurt/comfort, slight angst

George Weasley

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Take me home - angst, hurt/comfort

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Scared of my Guitar (Pt. 2 of "The one thing that I want") - angst

Fred Weasley

ੈ✩‧₊˚ The one thing that I want - angst

Charlie Weasley

ੈ✩‧₊˚ nothing yet…

Other

Clark Kent

ੈ✩‧₊˚ nothing yet…

Requests are open!

[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Hi, can I ask for a part two of the Fred Weasley fic 'The One Thing That I Want,' where George confesses his love to y/n (maybe at a Quidditch match after a win) or another character, and y/n is still deeply in love with Fred?

Scared of My Guitar | George Weasley x Reader (The One Thing That I Want Pt.2)

This fic refers a lot to part 1 so read that if you haven't yet!

Summary: After confessing your love for Fred, you become closer with his twin brother. As it turns out, he is in love with you.

Content: angst, friends to lovers but they never become lovers, one-sided love

w.c: 1.4k+

author notes: thank you so much for the request! I've been getting mixed requests - some people want Fred endgame and some want George endgame. I genuinely have no idea who to choose. Please help me out for part 3!!! Also, scared of my guitar seems really fitting for this fic.

divider by: @strangergraphics

George’s heart breaks for two reasons.

The first is because he saw you crying.

The second is because of the fact that your tears weren’t for him.

Not that he wants to make you cry, per se, but more so because those tears confirmed his worst fear: you’re in love with his brother.

One of the hardest things he's ever had to do is hold your shaking frame, knowing that you're imagining and wishing that Fred's arms were wrapped around you instead of his.

And the worst part? He's willing to play the part

He's willing to do anything for you - willing to act like Fred if that's what it takes

He knows that it would mean you don't love him for him, but at least it would mean that he's yours

---

On the way back to the common room from the astronomy tower, you notice that George is distracted, swaying slightly under the moonlight

He's still present, providing a comforting hand on your back when a sniffle escapes from you, but he's deep in thought

"You okay?" You ask him, concern momentarily overpowering the heartbreak you felt from discovering that Fred is in love with Angelina

"I should be asking you that" He replies with a half-hearted smile, scratching the back of his head

The rest of the walk is silent, and eventually, when he forces Fred to have that conversation with you, he can't help but sulk as he watches your retreating frames.

---

You're conflicted.

George has always been a great friend, but being as though you can never find him separated from Fred - they are always, quite literally, joined at the hip - it feels as if you had to cut him out of your life as well

You feel guilty, knowing that George never did anything to hurt you, but for once in your life, you choose yourself first

You prioritize your own feelings instead of worrying about the feelings of your favourite redhead, and you finally feel a novel swell of freedom that is

As time passes, you start to familiarize yourself with the idea of Fred and Angelina, training yourself to transform the hurt you feel into indifference

And it’s starting to work.

You start to smile at Fred when he walks past you.

You can’t bring yourself to talk to him, but it’s progress

You begin to acknowledge George more often, allowing yourself to enjoy his presence without thinking about his twin

And you realize how much you missed the softer Weasley, the one who’s jokes are humorous in an intellectual way, who’s words are more carefully thought out, who’s actions are gentle in a way that you wouldn’t normally associate with the pranksters

You find yourself in his company more often - regularly going out for butterbeer with him, almost always waiting for him in the common room after quidditch practice

But you don’t think much of it, you just regard it as a friendship that is blossoming into deeper platonic connection

So when Katie starts to hint at George being interested in you, you brush it off

“We’re just friends. I mean it” You urge, your patience wearing thin

“I’m not saying that you’re into him, just that he’s into you” she shrugs, mindlessly twirling her hair

You ignore her reasoning, knowing that although you have healed, you are still incapable of losing another Weasley

You don't think you would survive no longer having George in your life.

Because you know that if she’s right, you may not be able to give what he needs

Your thoughts are interrupted by the cheering that erupts around you.

Gryffindor won.

Again.

Your eyes automatically go to the twins, identical smiles etched on their faces

Fred’s arms immediately wrap around Angelina, his eyes never leaving her face

George’s eyes search frantically before they land on you, his lanky, but toned, frame already striding towards you

There’s an expression on his face that you’re not used to, and you inexplicably feel nervous

Katie gives you a knowing grin before casually turning towards Oliver Wood

“Good game, eh?” George starts, a playful lilt in his voice

“Isn’t it always a good game?” you say in return, keeping the conversation light

“Yeah, because I’m on the team” he jokes, raising his eyebrows

“Look-” He starts after a beat of silence, but you cut him off, fearing what he’s going to say next

“George, I’m not feeling well…um…it’s cramps…which you don’t get…. I’m going to go back to the common room, congratulations again” You quickly add, very awkwardly, knowing George would comply with anything you say

But this time, he doesn’t.

“Please. I need to say this. Please, just let me” he pleads, as he squints against the blinding light of the sun

You try to deter the conversation once more

“George, these past few weeks have been great. Our friendship has been great. You’ve become such an important figure in my life, I don't want that to change.”

“That's the thing, I don’t want to be your friend. I’ve never wanted to be your friend.”

Those words cut deep as you try to ignore the familiarity of the desperation in his voice, the same desperation you had in yours weeks ago

“George-“

“Since the moment I’ve met you, your face has been imprinted in my brain. Your laugh has, quite literally, echoed through my mind. I don’t think I’ve ever been not smiling when I’m around you.”

You try to speak, but he puts his hand up

“I am in love with you. I am in love with the way your brain works. I am in love with the way you never break eye contact with me. I love everything about you. I love how you never make me feel inferior when others compare me to my brothers. I love the way you fix my hair and make sure I look presentable. I love the way that you showed so much concern when I was sick last week. I love the fact that we listen to the same music. I love the way you never stop talking. I love how easy it is to talk to you. I love how you always help me to be the best version of myself. I love how you make me a better man. I could go on and on for hours. Love could never be a sufficient word for what I feel for you. You are my entire world.”

He catches his breath, and looks up at you with a a sly smile

And for a moment, just for a slight moment, you give in to the idea.

You see yourself hand in hand with him at the yule ball.

You see yourself comfortable in one of his sweaters, your head resting on his bicep.

You see him ten years older, down on one knee, with the same smile he always gives you.

You see him at the end of the aisle, tears welling in his hazel eyes as you walk towards him.

You see him sitting on the couch, your child sleeping in his arms and your cat on his lap.

You see yourself growing old with the smart, funny, near-perfect boy in front of you.

But your eyes naturally gravitate towards Fred, still clinging to Angelina, happier than you’ve ever seen him.

And you realize that you don’t deserve the person standing in front of you.

You cannot be trusted with his heart while you’re still in love with his brother.

“I’m sorry George. I just don’t think I have the capacity to love anyone right now.”

“Don’t tell me I deserve better. I don’t want better. I just want you”

You just shake your head and tuck a loose curl behind his ear. You realize that being on either end of the situation is painful, and part of the unintentional annoyance you feel towards Fred dissipates, knowing it couldn’t have been easy for him to reject you.

You know you would be safe with him, you could be happy with him. But you’re not that selfish, you hope that no one is. You look up at him, committing his slightly tousled hair, the green that appears in his irises when the sun catches them at the right angle, and his structured face to memory.

When you’re done, you take a deep breath and open your mouth

“Don’t be a stranger” you say, before turning around, a tear escaping your eye as you try to blink away the blinding image of George’s hurt face.

Likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated ❤️!

[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Could I request an angst fic based on Olivia Rodrigo's song, in which Y/N L/N likes Fred Weasley, but Fred Weasley likes Angelina Johnson, and the reader/Y/N just watches from the sidelines while the boy she's in love with falls for someone else?

Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy this

The one thing that I want | Fred Weasley x Reader

Summary: You and Fred have been friends for years, you're in love with him, he's not.

Content: angst, friends to lovers but they never become lovers, one-sided love

w.c: 1.8k+

author notes: thank you so much for the request! I definitely felt the hurt while writing this because I, too, am in love with my best friend who is definitely not interested in me. oops

divider by: @strangergraphics

I’ve known you for so long, you are a friend of mine

Is what you begin to write in Fred Weasley’s Christmas card, the only one that you haven’t finished.

You’ve been troubled by the word “friend”, it just seems so… insufficient

But is that all we ever could be?

Is what you decide on writing afterwards, before snapping back to reality, realizing that you could never give that to him. Frustrated, you rip the card into pieces and grab a fresh piece of parchment paper.

“Hey, mate” a familiar voice chirps from behind you, interrupting the serenity of the library

“Don’t call me mate” you sigh, looking at your favourite redhead, not liking the platonic implication of that word

“Fine. Hi, bud”

You glare in response

“Kiddo?”

“No”

“Bro?”

“No!”

“Sis?”

“Fred.” you warn

“Then what do you want me to call you?” he questions, throwing his hands into the air

You know you’re being difficult, but hearing the man that you have been in love with for years call you the same nicknames that he uses with his little siblings is very disheartening

You just shrug in reply and like always, Fred remains indifferent to your little outburst

“Are we still on for Hogsmeade tomorrow?” he asks, raising his eyebrows

“Of course, why wouldn’t we be?”

“I invited a couple of people from the quidditch team - George, Angelina, Katie. The usual”

“oh” you try to hide your disappointment

You were looking forward to hanging out with only him, that way you could pretend that you’re on a date

Stupid. You think to yourself

You're Pathetic.

If he noticed the shift in your mood, he doesn’t act on it.

He just pulls out a chair and starts pitching his new prank to you, persuading you to join him and George in its execution

You knew you would say yes the moment he sat down but you feign uncertainty because you enjoy watching him speak

You love the way his eyes dart from side to side when he gets excited, or the way he plays with the corner of the piece of parchment paper you were writing on, or the way that he never stops smiling throughout the entire conversation

You watch him intently, appreciating the warmth you instantly feel whenever you’re around him

That is until you begin to notice that his eyes suddenly remain fixed on a space above your shoulder and that his smile has relaxed, just a notch, almost as if he’s trying to look alluring

You feel your stomach drop as you turn around, secretly praying that what captured Fred’s attention was George doing something stupid or Ron attempting to flirt with a girl

Your heart breaks when you see Angelina Johnson, talking to Katie Bell, glancing in Fred’s direction

God, Angelina is so beautiful. She’s so intelligent, she’s so kind, she’s so perfect

And she’s got Fred’s interest.

You know that man well enough to know that he pursues what he wants, and that what he wants is not you

Fred is still talking to you, but it’s no longer passionate, rather, it’s more automatic. So you mumble out an excuse before getting up to leave

Despite your better judgement, you look over your shoulder to see if he’s following you

He’s not.

———

You fight the urge to throw your books at the wall out of anger. Not at Fred, not at Angelina, but at yourself.

You can’t help thinking about the what-ifs - what if you confessed first? what if he also wanted to ruin the friendship all these years? but what if he was never interested in you at all? what if he’s always only ever see you as a friend?

At that moment, Angelina walks into your dorm, Katie in tow, talking about how Fred asked her to the yule ball

and how she said yes.

You can't help but loathe her lately, even though its against your better judgement. She hasn't done anything wrong.

She then proceeds to act out Fred’s yule ball proposal and her eyes land on you, registering your presence

“Hey, your hair looks really nice today” Angelina says, with a genuine smile on her face

She means well, but her compliments feel like a slap on the face, like bullets on your skin

You thank her and walk out before you throw up

———

To your annoyance, the common room was filled with discussions of the same topic, except, this time, from the other perspective

Your eyes fill with tears while Fred, in between jokes, casually inserts comments of admiration about Angelina

The comments may be imperceptible to most, but you notice everything about Fred Weasley

You notice how he his voice lilts every time he says her name, or how he starts pacing out of excitement each time he remembers that he’s going to the ball with her

You’ve never seen him this genuine before, you’ve never seen him be genuine for anyone before

You rapidly blink to stop your eyes from watering as he spots you and crosses the room towards you

“Who’s the most charming man in this room?” He starts, voice filled with pride

“It’s completely unbelievable that she agreed to go to the ball with you, are you sure you didn’t threaten her entire bloodline?” you tease, unable to mask the hope in your voice

“Very funny” he retorts, ruffling your hair before his eyes land on Angelina, walking into the room with a satisfying stride, her luscious locks flowing behind her

You try to swallow as you look at yourself, thinking that your features completely lack in comparison to hers

He immediately walks in her direction, leaving you alone, and throws his arm around her shoulders

She shrugs it off but stays in his vicinity, sitting down way too close to him, leaning into him as the night progresses

You try to stay for as long as you can, lingering around them, watching but hidden in plain sight

———

You find yourself in the astronomy tower, not even remembering how you got there, staring over the ledge, thoughts consumed by that insufferable ginger boy

“Hey kiddo” someone whispers

You breath catches, but you realize that the voice that greeted you has a slightly darker tone than the one you wanted to hear

“Hi George” you sigh

“Well don’t sound so disappointed”

You offer him a small smile

“I knew I was right” he says, almost to himself

“What?”

“Remember second year? I said that you and Fred should date. You were very adamant, you said you were just friends”

You don’t reply, still unwilling to admit it

“A friend of Fred’s wouldn’t cry over him finding a girlfriend”

“I know”

“So you do like him?”

“Does it really matter if I do?”

“Hey, admitting it might make you feel better”

“I don’t think anything could make me feel better”

George just laughs and puts his arm around you, letting you cry into his shoulder

———

It’s late when you get back to the common room, following George inside

You’re greeted by the painful sight of Angelina sleeping on Fred’s shoulder

He looks at you and his brother questioningly, but to your disappointment, its not out of jealousy, just curiosity

George trips on a book, waking up Angelina, who greets you both and kisses Fred on the cheek before going back to your shared dorm

You start to follow her before George pulls you back and says “I think you two need to talk”

Fred looks confused so George drags him off the couch and pushes him in your direction

“What’s going on?” He asks you, already half-asleep

You just lead him out of the common room and sneak out to take a walk around the grounds

As you walk beside him, you get whiff of Angelina’s perfume and a tear escapes your eye

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s going on?”

Fred stops you in the middle of the corridor

“Do you like her?” you whisper

“I’m crazy about her” He replies instantly, clearly ready to break off on a tangent and talk about her again

But when you don’t say anything for 10 minutes, he says “I don’t understand. I thought you’d be happy for me”

“You’re so oblivious Fred”

“What?”

“For as long as I have known you, I have cared for you”

“I care about you too, you’re my best fr- ”

“I don’t want to be your friend, Fred. Isn't it obvious? The way I help you with every prank, the way I drop everything when you want to talk to me, the way I treat you compared to the way I treat your brother?”

“I- ”

“I love you, Fred. I have loved you for as long as I have known you. And I thought that maybe, just maybe, the reason why you haven't made any romantic advancements towards me is because you weren’t ready for a relationship. I was hoping that one day, you would love me”

Your voice cracks, and Fred just stares

“I’m an idiot, Fred. A complete git”

“You’re not. I am. I’m stupid for not realizing it earlier, and I’m sorry” he sooothes

The tears are streaming down your face, no end in sight, and you realize that no matter what, friends are really all you’ll ever be.

He tries to rectify the conversation by inserting jokes, making a snide comment about Malfoy's hair, and one about how Ron falls each time he makes it within two feet of Fleur Delacour

But when you don't react, he falls quiet, his feeble attemps at salvaging your friendship dissipating

For the first time, Fred Weasley is speechless

“I’m so sorry” he repeats continously, pulling you into a hug

You melt into his touch, waiting for the words you want to hear

I love you too

I want you, not Angelina

Be my date to the yule ball instead

But they never come.

Instead, Angelina’s scent becomes stronger by the second, and you push him away - harder than you intended

He has a broken expression on his face, and as you look at him through tears, you know what the outcome of this conversation will be

As much as you try to deny it, you know that Fred Weasley will no longer be in your life because you're not strong enough to be around him, knowing that your love for him will never be reciprocated.

The days that follow are filled with you staring at Angelina and Fred, noticing the vast difference between you and the girl who makes your stomach knot

Everyday, it becomes clear why Fred fell for her, why he didn't choose you

You can’t help but compare yourself to her, the jealousy oozing whenever your eyes fall on her perfect smile, knowing that she’s got the one thing you’ve always wanted.

She’s got Fred.

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated! 🤍

[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Take Me Home | George Weasley x Reader

Summary: George Weasley is celebrating his first birthday without his twin brother. You do your best to be there for him.

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of grief

w.c: 1k+

author notes: not sure what prompted this, I’ve just been missing Fred Weasley a lot lately

divider by: @strangergraphics

For the first time in your exhausting life, you don’t know what to do.

For the past ten minutes, you have been standing outside your boyfriend’s door. You are painfully aware of what day it is - you’ve been simultaneously looking forward to it and dreading it for months.

April 1st, George Weasley’s birthday.

His first birthday since the death of his twin brother.

You know George like the back of your hand. You can read his moods perfectly, and you know how to respond to them. You know how to console him, how to make him laugh.

But what you don’t know is how to act on an unprecedented type of day like today.

Do you celebrate him or comfort him? Do you run in, cake and gift in hand, cheering with a bright smile on your face or do you walk in, solemn with open arms? Is there a way of doing both?

You decide on sneaking in, trying to gauge the situation before he notices you’re there.

You look around and see that the mirror in the dining room is covered. Every picture frame is turned face down. Every birthday greeting sent to him via mail is torn to shreds.

And in the middle of the chaos, your eyes land on George, sitting on his couch, squeezing a teddy bear like a little child.

Your heart breaks at the sight of him.

You know that there’s nothing you can do to make things better. You know that you can’t bring Fred back. You know that you can never fully heal George.

But you also know that George doesn’t like to be alone. So you make sure that he knows you’re there.

You’re silent. You’re not bothersome. You don’t try to placate him or fix him. You’re just there.

You walk up to him and kiss his forehead

“Happy Birthday George” you whisper, wiping away his tears

He opens his mouth as if to say something.

When he doesn’t, you don’t push.

You just sit beside him, writing replies to birthday greetings so that he doesn’t have to, not breaking the silence.

Knowing that you would be of no help unless he’s ready, you don’t try to comfort him.

You know better than to offer comforting words or touches until he lets you, until he opens up to you.

He always does.

As you make a cup of coffee and sit at the dining table afterwards, and while you continue going through George’s mail, you feel a pair of arms around your torso.

George, on his knees, crying into your chest.

You continue to hold him until his sobs calm down and you kiss his red hair while he tries to catch his breath.

“I miss him so much” he finally utters

“I know, love” you murmur, still stroking his face

“It’s so hard to celebrate my birthday, knowing that I should be celebrating with him” he adds, looking up at you through his tears

You just nod. No words are sufficient, so you run your hands through his hair and let him continue talking.

The pain in his eyes is permanent, but so is your love for him.

Time passes slowly, and as his family trickles into the apartment, one by one, you feel the restlessness growing in George. His siblings all seem unsure, but are all willing to be what he needs.

“How has he been lately?” a voice tentatively asks from your right

Percy.

You’ve been dating George long enough to know that there is a rough relationship between Percy and the rest of the family.

But you also know that Percy Weasley loves his brother, and love is really all that matters.

Besides, he’s been great since the war. He’s been showing up consistently, making time for his brothers. You feel no hatred towards the man, only gratitude.

“As you would expect” you reply, distracted by the sight of Molly Weasley cornering your boyfriend

When Percy doesn’t reply, you add, “He’s been doing better, he’s been smiling more often, cracking jokes almost more than once a day. Well…until today”

“Grief is not a linear process” Percy voices, almost to himself

“No, it is not” you say before turning around at the sound of another familiar voice

“Please go save my brother” Bill Weasley says from behind you, grimacing as Molly continues to smother George

“I’ll go distract mum” Percy adds, before walking in George’s and Molly’s direction

Bill winks at you before you go to give George some peace

“I love my family, I really do. But sometimes, especially on days like this, I appreciate a little bit of quiet” George whispers frantically as you approach him

You look around the room, making sure Molly is occupied with Percy, before grabbing George’s hand and apparating him out of the busy room.

You didn’t really have a destination in mind, only really envisioning peace and quiet.

You find yourself in an empty field - hills of green as far as your eyes can see

“Thank You” George says with a thick voice

You squeeze his hand before lying down on the grass, staring at the sky. You feel him lay down beside you, and you rest your head on his chest.

You stay like this for hours, silent, except for when he jokingly asked for his gift.

“Take me home” He says, knowing that you’ll understand what he means

So, once more, you take his hand, and apparate him to his home.

Not his apartment.

Fred’s grave.

He drops to his knees. He doesn’t cry, he seems devoid of tears at the moment.

He just talks. He talks to Fred about what he feels, about how their siblings are doing, about you.

And you sit there. Contributing to the conversation when necessary, rubbing his back when he needs it.

You know grief doesn’t go away, you know that George will always ache. You know that there is nothing you can do to make the pain go away completely.

But you know that you can be there for George. You know that you can make him feel less alone, and you promise yourself that you will spend the rest of your lives doing so.

likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Cherry | Jonathan Byers x Reader

Summary: Inspired by Harry Styles’ song “Cherry” (Specifically the lines “Don’t you call him baby” and “Don’t you call him what you used to call me”). You and Jonathan have been broken up, you have a new boyfriend, but when you call your boyfriend “baby”, painful memories arise.

Content: NO CHEATING!!! Angst, understanding bf, some hurt and not a lot of comfort, reader solving problems with Jonathan

wc: 900+

author notes: I’ve been listening to Harry Styles very frequently lately, and Cherry has been on repeat

divider by: @strangergraphics

“There you are” a voice mumbles in your ear, familiar arms encircling you as you close your locker. You smile at your boyfriend. He’s a good man, a breath of fresh air, and for the first time in your life, you know that you made the right decision choosing him.

“Hi baby” you say, melting in his arms. Yet, as the word leaves your mouth, a knot forms in your throat. Baby was a word that you only used with one man. It was a word you never planned on saying again. It was a word that still reminded you of him.

And you feel him, without even having to look up. You know he’s there watching as you hug your boyfriend, you can already picture the wounded expression on his face.

But you still weren’t prepared.

You weren’t prepared to see him running his hand through his hair as you make eye contact, his eyes blinking rapidly.

You weren’t prepared to see him open-jawed, camera falling to the ground, motionless.

You weren’t prepared to see Jonathan Byers standing in the middle of the hallway, struggling to breathe.

Your boyfriend registers the shift in the air. He turns around, glancing at Jonathan, and then back at you. “I’ll see you tomorrow, love” he mutters, not angry, but understanding. He kisses you quickly, then smiles respectfully at Jonathan before leaving.

“Don’t you call him baby” is all Jonathan says

You could barely hear him over the slamming lockers and students rushing to get home. You don’t acknowledge his previous statement. You’re speechless, this was the first time you’ve talked to Jonathan since the break up. It was messy, harsh words were exchanged, and things didn’t end the way you wished. You need closure, just talk to him, your boyfriend’s words echo in your head.

Your boyfriend was right, you spent too many sleepless nights thinking about what went wrong. It’s not like you’re not over Jonathan, but there were so many questions left unanswered, and it was too painful seeing him at school knowing that he resented you.

So you take a breath and ask him to go get coffee. “We need to talk, Jonathan. No yelling, no fighting, just talking. Please”

You pick up his camera and hand it to him, hand shaking. He hesitates, his face contorting, before he finally nods and walks towards his car.

~

The smell of coffee is jarring, uninviting even. You sit across Jonathan, in complete silence. You don’t know what to say, you didn’t even expect him to say yes.

His eye bags seem more prominent, his clothes more disheveled, his frown lines etched deeper into his face. He hasn’t looked this bad since Will went missing, and it’s been years since then.

You thought things would get better once he came back. And it did, only for a while.

But he kept shutting you out, it’s like he lived a life completely isolated from you. He started spending more time with Nancy Wheeler, you knew he wasn’t cheating on you, but you knew that she was part of the life he kept from you. And that was so much worse.

You weren’t an idiot. You knew that Hawkins was unusual. You knew that there were unexplainable events happening. You knew that Jonathan was involved. You just wished he shared everything with you.

You tried explaining that to him, but he kept acting oblivious and that obliviousness led to resentment. You loved him so much but you couldn’t take it anymore.

The break up was inevitable.

“I’m sorry” you start, but you can’t find the words to continue

“I guess communication was always our problem huh?” he says, acknowledging your speechlessness

You manage a smile and wait for him to talk. After all the years spent tolerating his affinity for keeping secrets, he owes you at least a couple honest words. And he knows that

“Look, I’m sorry. I know that word isn’t enough, I know how much I hurt you, but I really am sorry” he touches your hand softly

“I just wanted to keep you safe. I wanted to keep you away from all the dangers that I was involved in. I’ve witnessed so much death, and I couldn’t bear to see you in that position. I thought if I kept my life with you separate from everything else then…well, then you would be okay”

“I’m not Will, I’m not those kids, I didn’t need you to protect me. I just needed you to talk to me.”

“I know”

You feel lighter, and you continue to talk. You talk about your feelings, your relationship, school, he finally explains what the upside down is to you, you talk about your boyfriend, you tease him about Nancy, and genuine laughter comes out of the both of you.

You know that you’ll always love each other, not the way you used to, but a part of you will always care for him.

As you part ways, he pulls you into a hug. And you know that it’s going to be the last one, at least for a while. So you let yourself hold on for 10 more seconds, you let yourself feel your his arms around you, a feeling you’ve started to forget.

As you let go, he grabs your hand and holds it on his chest “Just promise me one thing”

“yeah?”

“Don’t call him baby. Don’t call him what you used to call me”

“I knew you were gonna say that” you tease, before you turn around

You don’t look back.

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[positivelynerdyarchivist]

More Than Words | Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You and Steve were never close, throughout the many years you’ve known each other, you barely spoke. Yet, when Steve is the only one around to help you through a tough moment, you realize that your relationship was built on more than words this entire time

Content: some hurt/comfort, fluff, kind of friends to lovers, realizing they’ve been in love this whole time, steve harrington, reader and Jonathan are really good friends

wc: 1.7k+

author notes: I have no idea how my brain works because this whole thing came to me when I saw the third picture on pinterest. I hope this fic is cute and makes sense.

divider by: @strangergraphics

take deep breaths, you say to yourself over and over again, looking at the vast expanse of nothingness. The Hawkins junkyard, although rusty and questionably littered with an unusal amount of pumpkin guts, is serene. It is quiet and abandoned, save for Eleven's training sessions, and a place where no one could find you.

You listen to sound of the wind as you, for the first time ever, analyze yourself. You were raised on instinct. Trust your gut, your mother always said. You've never been wrong.

You weren't wrong when you told Nancy, years ago, that you felt like someone has been living in her basement

You weren't wrong when you helped Ms. Byers put up the Christmas lights, even if it strained your friendship with Jonathan

You weren't wrong about Eddie and his innocence

And you definitely weren't wrong thirty minutes ago when you told the party that something was off. Another crawl was happening, and understandably, no one was concerned. This wasn't your first crawl, and none of them have been eventful as of yet.

But there's a feeling you couldn't, and still can't, shake.

You couldn't possibly convey your concern in words, you couldn't possibly convince Hopper to cancel a crawl based on what you feel. You have no power, so they dismissed your worries and you had no choice but to agree to go through with the plan like always.

And hope that, for the very first time, you are wrong.

Jonathan knew you too well, and Will was looking at you with a concerned expression. You couldn't stay there, be around everyone with fear so apparent on your face. So you conjured up an adequate excuse and grabbed Jonathan's keys from the table.

Absentminded and overcome with a debilitating sense of fear, you instinctively drive to the only place where you can sit in peace. The junkyard was laced with upsetting memories, the time that Dustin set up his demogorgan trap being the most prominent one. But at least no one will bother you. At least that's what you thought.

The noise alone triggered an unpleasant reaction, your hands already shaking with annoyance. It was the sound of a car engine, slowly amplifying. You close your eyes and pray that it keeps going, driving past. But the noise halts, and you hear a car door opening behind the bus that you are currently sitting on top of.

"Go away" you yell, not turning around

"I didn't know this was private property" someone replies with a voice that is too familiar

"Look Harrington, I'm not in the mood. I'll see you at the crawl"

"No"

"What?"

"I said no" he repeats

"I heard you the first time" you snap, your patience is wearing thin

"great" is all he says. Is that how small his vocabulary is?

"I didn't even say anything that warranted a yes or no response" you point out

"Can you at least look at me?" he retorts, ignoring your previous statement

"No" Your back is still facing him. Turning around felt like too much effort at the moment

"Look, I didn't follow you out here for quality time. I came here to get my car back" he says, irritated

"I don't have it"

"Yes, you do"

That does it. You jump off the bus and run to where you parked Jonathan's car. Or what you thought was Jonathan's car. Steve raises his eyebrows, smirking. You look at the keys in your hands, a basketball keychain was on the keyring instead of a keychain with a picture of Nancy

"no. no, no, no, no" you say frantically. What is wrong with you? How could you possibly not know what car you were driving? Maybe your gut is failing you. If you weren't perceptive enough to know that you were driving a different car than the one you have been borrowing for years, then maybe your instinct can no longer be trusted.

You continue to repeat the word "no", over and over again. It was a simple mistake, but it made you doubt everything you know about yourself. Or what you thought you knew.

Steve, for a few moments at least, just stares at you, utterly speechless. He thought the situation was funny, an innocent mistake, everyone makes mistakes when they're stressed or scared before a crawl. He planned to just follow Jonathan's car, tease you, and bring you back to WSQK. Nothing more, nothing less. He doesn't know what went wrong.

He's never seen you like this. Before getting involved with the upside down, he seldom interacted with you at school. You're a year younger, friends with Jonathan, and none of his concern. Then, because of Nancy, because of Jonathan, because of everything that's happening with Eleven, you became closer, but only in proximity.

He thought you hated him because of his rocky relationship with Jonathan. You didn't. You just felt indifference. You cared about him, sure, but you cared about him the same way that you cared about Hopper or Lucas - you just want them to stay safe, uninjured, and alive.

So when you find yourself having an identity crisis in front of Steve Harrington, neither of you know what to do.

Eventually, the shock wears off, and he says "hey, hey, hey" over and over again, drowning out your "no, no no". You barely notice him touching your arms and leading you to the hood of his car. He sits and waits for you to follow. You do. There's silence again, but not awkward, just empty.

"wanna tell me what's going on?" he starts

"I don't know" it's the truth, you don't know

"that's a first" he teases, but he doesn't push

"I just...I feel like everything I know is crumbling. I feel like an idiot. I've always been so sure of myself but lately, I feel like everything that I was once good at, that I took pride in, is slipping away from me"

He doesn't interrupt, he just listens intently. His elbows on his knees and his eyes closed.

"I know doubting myself over taking the wrong car is dramatic, I mean, it's just a car. But I feel like it's an indication of how utterly lost I am, of how distracted i've been, of how, my entire life i've been running on instinct but it turns out my instinct has been leading me on the wrong path. What if its leading me towards death?"

"Woah, that took a turn" is all he says.

Way to ruin the moment.

"I'm sorry," he starts "that was the wrong thing to say."

He tries again. "Look, I know that you barely know me and because of that, you're under the impression that I don't know you. Maybe I don't. But, I'm a good observer and I've noticed how sure of yourself you've always been. And you should be. You always make the right calls, you always know when to lead the group out of trouble, you always say the right thing at the right time, always saving someone in the process"

He takes a breath. He rambles a lot, you think.

"Most importantly, that instinct, the one you're currently doubting? it has saved my life more times than I can count"

It's comforting, but that's not what you need to hear. Somehow he knows that because he keeps going.

"And if it's starting to become faulty, so what? You're still the same you. We don't keep you around because of your very accurate gut feelings, we keep you around because we want you around. And if you need help rebuilding or re-training that instinct of yours, I could always blindfold you, give you a bat, and throw tomatoes at your face." that earns him a giggle

"Thanks" you say

He just smiles, and looks at you for a very long time. You look away, lost in your thoughts. He gets up and you follow him without saying a word. He reaches his hand behind him, waiting for you to hold it, like its second nature. You don't know why he does - throughout the many years that you’ve known him, this is the first time you've ever really talked.

He realizes what he's doing and curses under his breath. He recovers by reaching out again but this time saying "can I have my keys?"

You exchange keys and get into Jonathan's car. As you follow Steve’s car back to WSQK, you think about that last moment, does he reach his hand out to every girl he has a small moment with?

But as you grip the steering wheel, memories come back to you in fragments.

Steve, always making two cups of coffee, no matter how many people are at his house, one for you and one for him

Steve, always jumping in front of you in the face of danger

Steve, shielding your head from the table when you bend down to pick something up

Steve, making your favourite ice cream order whenever you visited Robin at Scoops Ahoy, even though you never told him what you liked

Steve, silently handing you medication when you sat on the couch with your head in your hands during planning sessions

Steve, always noticing the small things

Steve, who was able to comfort you, when you didn't even know what you needed

Steve, who somehow knows you

Him holding out his hand wasn't an attempt to flirt, to begin a new relationship with you. It was continuing what you already had, what you didn't even realize you had.

How beautiful is it for love to be present between two people without them even needing to utter a word to each other?

You claim that you barely interact, that you barely know him. Yet, somehow, you are always together on crawls, you are always the one tending his wounds, the one who sits beside him at dinner, who cooks as he washes the dishes. You realize that you do know him and if it was him in your position earlier, you, too, would know exactly what to say. Sure, you barely share words, but the actions between you illustrate a deeper connection.

So, eventually, when your instinct does prove to be correct and some members of the party get injured on the crawl, you run to Steve, and only to Steve.

Eventually, when his wounds are finally tended to and he is sleeping on the couch, you look at his face, really look, and find comfort in its familiarity.

Eventually, when you sit on the floor beside him, you notice his hand dangling off the edge of the couch, similar to how it was reaching for you before.

And eventually, this time, you finally take it.

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[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Jonny | Jonathan Byers x Reader (Platonic)

summary: during season one, after Jonathan and Steve's fight, without thinking, you choose to follow and help Jonathan. You don't know Jonathan, being as though you're a cheerleader and he is quite socially inept. However, a friendship blooms, and with it, a nickname that only belongs to you. Bulk of the fic takes place after the fight, but the police did not detain Jonathan like they did in the show

tags: platonic with a capital P, some hurt/comfort, some fluff, mentions of Will, mentions of Jonathan x Nancy, mentions of Steve x Nancy, implied female reader, popular reader, cheerleader reader

wc: 1k+

author notes: I wrote this because I believe that the world needs more friendship fluff, and that the world needs more Jonathan Byers

divider by: @strangergraphics

What a pervert, you think, looking across the cafeteria at a boy who’s name you can’t quite recall, but who, according to Steve Harrington, took creepy pictures of his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler. Or is it ex-girlfriend now? You find it hard to keep up with his relationships, not that you care. You barely knew him and seldom interacted with him, and when you did, it was only because your friend group, consisting of cheerleaders, intersected with his.

Jonathan Byers. It comes to you suddenly, remembering the times when teachers would put him beside you, as an attempt to isolate him less from the rest of your grade. It was a futile attempt, being as though the gap between your social classes was far too vast. Even now, you are confident that you have never had a conversation with him.

Steve keeps rambling, and despite his insulting descriptions of Jonathan, you feel a pang of sympathy. He just lost his brother, and he seemed so utterly alone in the world. Maybe that’s why, two days later, when a fight breaks out between Steve and Jonathan, you reach out to help the one who you shouldn’t. You reach out to help the boy who would utterly destroy your reputation just by associating yourself with him, the one with an unrelenting sadness present in his eyes at only 16 years old, the one who you used to ignore but now cannot tune out.

You hear sirens, and before the police could enter the alley, you grab his hand and run. You feel him look behind his shoulder, Nancy right behind you, and Steve running in the complete opposite direction. He seems to recover from the shock of the situation, taking the lead and running in front of you, eye still swollen, but instinct still intact. You and Nancy follow him until you reach his porch and he stops suddenly, hand on his door, remembering that he is not alone. He looks at Nancy sheepishly and glances at you with a confused expression on his face. "um thanks" he manages, clearly waiting for both of you to leave.

You stand there awkwardly, unsure what to do, unsure why you chose to follow Jonathan and why you feel unable to leave. Nancy calls your name and instructs you to grab ice out of Jonathan's fridge, slipping past him and entering his house despite his protests. As you walk into his living room, you're hit with flashes of lights. Christmas lights are hanging on the wall, with the alphabet painted under each bulb. The house is a mess, to put it gently, and you take in the exhausted and embarrassed expression on Jonathan's face.

You remain composed, feigning indifference, pretending like there are no abnormalities about his living situation. You grab the ice and wrap it in a cloth as Nancy excuses herself, walking into the bathroom. Jonathan is seated on the couch and he flinches when you bring the ice to his cheek. The silence is light, surprisingly comfortable, and you wait patiently as he tries to translate his thoughts into words.

"Why?" is the only word that comes out of his mouth, still unable to process the image of you, in your cheerleader uniform, sitting beside him and tending to his wounds

"huh?" you hum, still focused on what you're doing

"I'm not really in your social circle. Why are you helping me? Why not Steve?" his hands are folded tightly in his lap, eyes looking at the space behind your head

"I don't like people who break other people's cameras" you reply

That answer wasn't the complete truth, but hopefully it would suffice for now. If you were being completely honest, you didn't truly know why you chose Jonathan either. Was it the perpetual wounded expression on his face? Was it because you knew that he had a broken family? or was it because you can tell that he so badly needed a friend?

You didn't voice these thoughts, knowing that there was no way to express them without sounding pitying or patronizing. He opens his mouth again, clearly unsatisfied with what you said but you interrupt him when your eye catches the posters and music collection in his bedroom, his door still open from this morning.

"The Clash" you say, exasperated but unsurprised

"I wouldn't expect that someone like you listens to The Clash" he smirks, the faintest hints of a smile present on his face

"I don't. I'm more of a Kenny Rogers person myself" you deadpan and you have to force yourself to not smile when he grimaces

"I'm kidding, Lost In The Supermarket is my favourite song of theirs" you quickly add, allowing yourself to laugh this time

"Will loved Should I Stay or Should I Go" he whispers, overcome with emotion

"You're a good brother, Jonny" you say, lightly touching his hand

"How do you know that? you barely even know me" he counters

"Because I stalk you, obviously" you reply, internally cheering when he chuckles

"You'll soon come to learn that I am always right, Jonathan Byers. So don't doubt me ever again"

"Noted. But don't ever call me Jonny again"

"Deal"

Nancy re-enters the room at that moment, already devising a plan about capturing a monster, forgetting about the fact that you have absolutely no idea what they're talking about. Jonathan interrupts her and explains everything to you, and you realize that you immediately gained his trust. You inexplicably feel a warmth in your chest, knowing that a new dynamic has formed, a friendship between outcast and cheerleader.

So, despite your promise to never call him by a certain nickname, you just can't help but doing otherwise.

"I can't believe it, Jonny" you exclaim, when he tells you, days later, that Will came back, alive

"Happy Birthday Jonny!" you scream at 7am, holding out a personalized mixtape as he walks through the school doors

"I'm sorry Jonny" you whisper, hand on his shoulder, as you both watch Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrington kissing in the hallway

"I'm glad you're my friend Jonny" you cry, while you're both lying on the staircase during lunch, fighting depressing thoughts

"Delete that Jonny" you scowl, when he takes the most unflattering pictures of you at the school dance

"Finally, Jonny" you tease, when you bump into him and notice Nancy's kiss mark on his cheek

"We're in this together Jonny" you say, when he comes knocking on your door, breathless and panicking about something called a mindflayer

Over time, you became convinced that he no longer protested because he warmed up to the nickname. However, when Dustin Henderson was going over a plan and asked “what do you think Jonny?”, the expression on Jonathan’s face still conveyed dislike.

You realized at that very moment that he still hated it, he just hated it less when it came from you. Jonny was something that you both shared, an inside joke, a mark of your friendship, and a testament to the good that can arise when social divides are ignored.

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[positivelynerdyarchivist]

Stop Thinking | Percy Weasley x Reader

summary: year-end exams are coming up, the pressure is exhausting and the workload is endless. Percy Weasley, usually the one who believes studying solves everything, is begging you to stop. Stress leads to harsh words, ones that were better left unsaid.

tags: long-term stress, anxiety, hurt/comfort, slight angst, established relationship, implied gryffindor reader, kind Percy, mentions of the Weasley family, mentions of Percy's family life

wc: 1.4k+

author notes: wrote this during exam season, Percy's words are definitely what I needed to hear while studying

divider by: @strangergraphics

Percy wasn’t acting quite like himself.

In fact, frustratingly, he seemed to be exemplifying the characteristic traits of his 15-year old twin brothers. Sure, he lacked their carefree spirit and non-existent sense of urgency, but being a persistent nagger must be a Weasley family trait.

You have been pouring over your notes, sprawled on the common room floor, with your vision crossing and your reading comprehension slowly dwindling. Your hair was wound in a tight bun, intensifying the rhythmic pounding in your head, and Percy Weasley, the brother who prioritized studying over his own well-being, has been convincing you to stop for the past hour. "Stop thinking" he says for the 100th time.

“Hypocrite” you say, glancing at the collection of books he has scattered around him on the couch. He just finished a ten-minute long sermon about the effects of long-term stress as an attempt to make you take a break, an attempt which you drowned out while your eyes remain fixed on the paper in your hand.

A soft sound comes out of him, it might have even been a chuckle, but it was impossible to tell. After dating Percy for almost three months, you have come to the realization that his emotions are never displayed on his face, that you have to pay attention to the twitching in his fingers or the stiffening of his shoulders to truly grasp what he is feeling.

You feel his eyes on you, which, at first, was easy to ignore. But as minutes pass, as panic builds from the seeminglessly endless content you have to learn, and as an air of self-doubt starts to bubble within your chest, his eyes feel like daggers and his presence becomes suffocating. You look up at him sharply.

“What is your problem? I thought you of all people would understand how important these exams are. You have no idea how difficult it is to have parents like mine, whose expectations feel like a constant weight on my chest, whose hearts would break if I disappoint them. You have no idea what it’s like to have parents that care” you say, half-whispering and half-yelling, your words laced with exhaustion from hours of endless studying. You weren’t thinking, your actions were driven by stress. You didn’t mean it, Percy was smart enough to know that, wasn’t he? His face remained blank, like always, but as clarity dawned upon you, and your eyes began to scan his body, it was obvious that you hurt him.

His shoulders sagged slightly, his breathing quickened, and the hairs on his arms became erect - all changes that would have been imperceptible if you didn’t know him so well. The worst part? He leaned back. It was a small movement, but it was enough to convey what he was thinking. he was scared of you, and you were scared of yourself.

You knew that you were at fault, you knew that you should be comforting him, but as you replayed your words in your head, you found it difficult to hold back your tears. Percy was cautious, composed as ever, hands carefully reaching towards you. His fingers lingered above your face for a second, long enough for you to notice, before reaching down and starting to organize your notes that were scattered on the floor.

The silence was heavy, both of you unable to conjure up words capable of explaining what you were feeling. Percy, after collecting all the papers and putting them in a pile, finally led you to the couch. He turned his head towards you, not looking at the tears that were steadily running down your cheeks. He resisted the urge to wipe them away, knowing that you would melt into his touch, which he so badly craved. He couldn’t yet allow you, and himself, the satisfaction. He needed you to listen to his words first.

“You’re right-” he started. You opened your mouth but he lightly touched your arm to stop your objection. “You are right. My parents’ attention is divided amongst seven kids and my academic triumphs, or failures, do not bear much significance in their eyes. But you’re wrong to say that I do not understand what you are feeling. I, too, feel pressure. The pressure may come from different sources, but it’s still pressure nonetheless. I know that you are stressed, I know that your future is heavily impacted by your performance on these exams, but I also know your worth, I know how intelligent you are. I know that you are capable of doing great things”

He finally gives in and touches your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear. “But I also know that breaks are essential. You will overwork yourself dear, and overworking yourself will bring you no benefit. I know I am a hypocrite - I never stop studying but I have been doing by best to make you stop this entire night. It is simply because I care about you, more than I do about myself. I wasn’t exaggerating when I was giving you lectures about how dangerous studying too much can be” he raises his eyebrow, and you stifle a laugh. He smiles slightly, then continues.

“I know what it’s like having people constantly who expect you to always have perfect grades, like you’re a machine rather than a human being. You made a reputation for yourself, and now you will forever be condemned to uphold it, to prove yourself worthy of being deemed as smart” He pauses, lost in his thoughts, talking more about himself instead than you. He takes a breath and finally looks you in the eye.

“I know that this may seem unusual, especially coming from me, but your worth is not equivalent to your academic performance. You are worth so much more than your scores, your parents’ love for you should not be conditional and dependent on academics” He brings your legs into his lap and starts massaging them. He then pulls you closer, bringing his forehead against yours. “Even if they do show disappointment, just know this, as long as I am alive, someone will always be proud of you.” you choke out a sob, and he holds you tighter.

His eyebrows furrow with worry, but his eyes soften. That has been the largest display of emotion that Percy Weasley has ever shown, and that display of emotion was for you. That realization only made you bury your head in his chest, timing your breaths with the beat of his heart. As you begin to relax, your eyelids grow heavy. Percy caresses your hair, whispering more anecdotes about studying, but they’re sweet and they are comforting, and you start to drift off.

You suddenly gasp, and Percy looks at you, stunned and confused. You forgot about the words that left your mouth earlier. Your boyfriend spent the past thirty minutes comforting you after you completely emotionally debilitated him. Racked with guilt, you run your hands through his hair and start profusely apologizing.

The words come out mumbled, garbled, wrong. You’re a talkative person, you never had an issue with articulating how you feel. Yet, when it matters the most, you cannot elucidate an apology. “I am so sorry” is the only coherent sentence that comes out of your mouth. He nods slightly, and that small action gives you the confidence you need to keep speaking.

“I was harsh with my words. I was stressed and overwhelmed. That is NOT an excuse, but I swear I would never intentionally hurt you like that” his eyes remain fixed on yours, understanding and forgiving. “I love you Percy Weasley, with my entire heart. I care about you. Your academic triumphs bear much significance in my eyes, and they always will. I see you, I know you, and I notice everything about you. You consume me completely, you are so important to me.”

His composure breaks, you can see it in the relaxing of his shoulders and the rapid rate at which he is now blinking. He heard the word “love” many times, its commonality diminishing its significance in his life. But hearing that he was important to someone, that he mattered, undid him completely.

“Thank you” he whispered

“Just returning the favour” you replied. After a beat of silence, he looks at you mischievously

“So now, do you admit that I am the greatest studying partner alive?” he says, trying to hold back a giggle

“Are you trying to be funny, Percy Weasley?” you reply, feigning shock “I didn’t know you had it in you”

He smiles at you, wide and full of love, flipping you over on the couch. He lays on top of you, akin to a weighted blanket, sleep finally taking over you both.

You wake up to Percy reading you your notes, but instead of ignoring fatigue and diving straight into studying like usual, you close your eyes again, bury your face deeper into his bicep, and listen intently to the comforting sound of his voice.