#jbw26fri

[nuffitdraws]

(romantic distance) the jancy break up scene.. was one of the only scenes in s5 that I cried to.

beautiful and emotionally resonant. I LOVED seeing them finally be honest with each other <3

[jonathan-byers-week]

Day 6: Time Skip/Distance

GIF by @jonathanbyersphd

[strickland527]

One last snippet (and it’s a big one) and it’s a continuation of the post-finale one I posted this morning. There’s smut at the start and it’s still only tangentially related to Jonathan but nonetheless he’s a major part of this. Now I gotta hope to finish this Will fic for tomorrow. Time to get cracking. And yes, the smut is cringe but so are they, so am I and so are you.

“Nancy, whuh?” he mumbled as he turned to face her, soap and washcloth in hand. His cock flapped in front of him. The sight of it made her sad, for some reason. How long had she avoided it, avoided this? A mix of guilt and shame filled her as she stepped into the tub. She pushed through those feelings and grabbed his dick, palming the familiar heat of him. His chest was bare in front of her, and Nancy leaned forward, biting a nipple. Jonathan gasped and moaned as she licked the nub.

“Fuck me” she said, freeing her mouth, feeling his cock harden in her hand. “Claim me.” she ordered. His eyes were dark with a lust she had not seen in ages. It made her wet almost instantly.

He grabbed Nancy and roughly pushed her past him, pinning her face against the cold tile. “Yes,” she moaned as he pulled her ass to him, and slid a hand between her legs.

“Shit, you’re soaked,” he muttered. Before she could respond, he was inside of her. A hand held her face against the pink tile of the shower, while his other roughly fondled her breast. After a moment, it moved down between her thighs. A spot Jonathan knew well. Nancy felt a sense of completion that she hadn’t felt in the longest time. Why had they not done this sooner? Why had this become so foreign to them?

Furiously, he pumped behind her. They each did their best to stifle their moans, to varying degrees of success. It wasn’t long before they both climaxed, a release of tension weeks in the making. Jonathan finished inside of her with a loud groan. She thought, through the fogginess of her orgasm, about how long it had been since she had taken her birth control. But that was an issue for another day, another Nancy.

Instead she turned to Jonathan after he pulled out, feeling what was left of him drip down her thighs.

“We broke up,” he said, blankly, his chest heaving.

“Yes,” she said, catching her breath, as she moved to embrace him. “But so what?”

He lifted her chin and kissed her, softly. His breath was awful, she imagined hers was worse. Yet she deepened the kiss. Drunk on him. On life.

They had treated the love between them as if it were something fragile, easily broken. But how could that be when the people in that love weren’t? They had smashed that relationship in the Upside Down and then smashed the Upside Down. And now Nancy loved him more than ever. Sure, they would have to let each other go at some point. Maybe they would find each other again, maybe not. But they were here, now. Alive, somehow. Gloriously alive and in love. What else mattered?

The rest of the shower passed in relative silence, the pair of them cleaning each other off with a bar of soap, kissing each other as they scrubbed. When it came time to shampoo each other’s hair, she took a great sense of pride in how he responded as her nails scraped across his scalp, his eyes rolled up, lids fluttered. It was calming for her. Almost as much as when he pulled her into his body and massaged her head with shampoo. “Thank god this goop comes out easily,” he muttered.

She leaned out of the tub, reached across the bathroom and pulled her toothbrush into the shower, along with a tube of toothpaste. He smiled as he took it from her after she was done. “That bad?” he asked with a grin. Nancy only laughed in response. When he was done brushing, she kissed him again, deeply. “Much better,” she stated.

Finally, when much of the grime and slime of the last few days had been removed, Nancy turned the water off and hugged Jonathan. For an indeterminate amount of time, the pair of them stood naked in the heat of the shower, in a tight embrace. Slowly, the steam seeped away, taking the warmth with it. Eventually, her body betrayed her and she shivered. Jonathan broke the hug and stepped out of the tub. In a flash, a towel was around her, his arms holding firm, steady. There he was, again, helping her step out of the tub, into the bathroom. After only a step or two, his legs wobbled, forcing him on the toilet. In a flash, he pulled her onto him.

Nancy Wheeler sat on Jonathan Byers’ lap, on her toilet, wrapped in their towels and each other. Those delayed tears finally fell, the past due bill from days, weeks, months, years of running from their feelings. Great sobbing cries poured out of both of them. A ceaseless stream of pain, wrenched from exhausted bodies, exhausted souls.

Eventually, a knock on the door broke the spell.

“Nancy, can I come in?” Holly asked, her voice so small that it made Nancy cry even more. Jonathan picked her off his lap and helped her to her feet. He wiped her face with part of his towel, kissed her brow and pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.

“She’s gonna need a shower, too,” she said. “I’ll help her. Just go in my room and make sure the bed is set up. Then get her pajamas.” He nodded at that and opened the door. Holly jumped in his arms, hugging him tightly. He kissed her head and spun her little sister towards Nancy. The sight wrenched more of Nancy’s tears. As Jonathan placed her sister on the floor, she bolted towards Nancy and into her embrace.

Jonathan gave them one last look, wiped the new tears from his eyes and closed the door.

“Can I take a bath and not a shower?” Holly asked, eventually, her face still buried in Nancy’s chest.

“Of course,” Nancy responded, helping her sister out of her clothes. Nancy popped the drain, turned the tap on and made sure the water was warm enough. “Bubbles?’ she asked and smiled at Holly’s gleeful nods. When there were a suitable amount of bubbles in the tub, her sister stepped in. The grime from a week stuck in an alternate dimension sloughed off Holly, slowly. As it did, Nancy dropped her towel and pulled a nightgown over her head, before turning to her sister again. The linen closet still had plenty of washcloths in it, so Nancy picked one and went to work.

Holly was surprisingly upbeat as Nancy scrubbed, recounting the ordeal to rescue her. “I didn’t know you were so…cool,” she whispered. “Mike said once that you were really badass, and I thought he was trying to scare me at the time, but that was, like, totally gnarly, Nancy. Even Derek said so in the truck. He thinks Mike is cool but he also thinks that Jonathan’s flamethrower was awesome.” Nancy only chuckled and kissed her brow. After a few more minutes of her sister’s ramblings, Nancy ordered her to duck her head, so she could get to work on her hair with some shampoo. The process of rubbing the shampoo in her sister’s head was as calming for Nancy, as it had been when it was Jonathan’s head moments ago. Holly’s eyes dulled a little, and her lids seemed heavy as Nancy rinsed the suds off.

Jonathan opened the door and stepped in, placing a pair of Holly’s pajamas on the sink. “These should work, right?” Holly turned and nodded. Nancy smiled as he left. All that was left was a quick rinse, a towel dry and a thorough brushing of Holly’s teeth. When she was in her pajamas, the pair left the bathroom, hand in hand, and walked into Nancy’s room. Jonathan was in the process of opening up a sleeping bag on her floor. Besides her, Holly was sagging from exhaustion.

“Get up here,” she ordered him. He only put his hands up in surrender.

They arranged themselves so that Nancy was in the middle, between her sister and Jonathan. As the comforter draped over them, Holly turned to her and started crying. Nancy held her, as tight as she could. Her sister’s tears soaked Nancy’s T-shirt. Behind her, she felt Jonathan’s arms on hers, a calming presence.

“I miss mom,” Holly cried into Nancy’s chest. “I just wanna see her, even though I know she’s okay. Dad, too. And the monsters, I’m still scared of them”

Nancy could only stroke her sister’s hair in response. “I won’t let them get you,” she whispered into her head. “I promise. Remember, I’m tough. And Jonathan still has the flamethrower.” The sobs slowed, and Holly’s breathing evened. Before sleep claimed her, she looked past Nancy and towards Jonathan.

“You still have that flamethrower?” Holly mumbled.

Jonathan chuckled. “Ready to go,” he responded.

“Bitchin’,” was all her sister said before her eyes closed.

“A Wheeler, through and through,” Jonathan whispered as he kissed Nancy’s head.

Nancy snorted at that. It had only been a few days ago that she was mired in misery in the Upside Down. And somehow, now, in her bed, she felt a level of calm she hadn’t felt in the longest time. Her family was safe. Her sister was in her arms. She was in Jonathan’s arms.

A smile crossed her lips, small and tenuous, as her eyes closed.

[munsonbyers]

The club barring her from entering didn't need to know her actual age, just that she was the daughter of a name that prints bigger names to magazines, that she knows skaters and dealers and performers alike, that she's Eleanor Fucking Byers and that that name can get her pretty much anywhere she wants. At a cost.

jonathan byers week day 6 - time skip/distance

time skip to an older jonathan and his family, distance between himself and his feelings, as well as his feelings and his children

[jonathan-byers-week]

when the party's over (4972 words) by justcuzz

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jonathan Byers & Nancy Wheeler Characters: Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler Additional Tags: Post-Stranger Things 5 Finale, Pre-Epilogue, Family Dynamics, College, acceptance letters, small town boy and his big city dreams, Post-breakup, not exes not lovers but a secret third thing, (best friends who run a household together), Good Sibling Nancy Wheeler Summary:

“For what it’s worth,” she continues, slow and steady. “I’m your friend, aren’t I?” She wouldn’t be Nancy if she wasn’t keeping him on his toes. As moves go, this one is bold. They’re not the type to talk around it—not anymore, that is—but there’s being straightforward, and then there’s gesturing at the whole of them and daring him to distil it down. There’s history that exists in layers, and there’s lying by omission. The full sum of what he can give her is only what he believes to be true. “You are,” he says. “The best I’ve ever had.”  In which Jonathan gets a letter, some permission, and a reminder that the feeling's mutual.

Written for Jonathan Byers Week 2026 Day 6: Time Skip.

[strickland527]

Running on fumes here at the end, but this is the only thing I’ve got that could plausibly be “TIME SKIP” so here it is. In the immediate aftermath of El’s death, Kay is tossed aside and a familiar face steps in. There’s more to this, including a Jancy shower fuck that maybe I’ll post tonight. And yes, there’s not a TON of Jonathan in here. But there’s some info about Lenora I thought was interesting. I dunno.

Into her interrogation room strode Dr. Sam Owens, a small smile on his face.

“Hey, kiddo,” he said in an even and gentle tone. Nancy wanted to kick him in that face.

“You,” she spat, pulling against the shackles on her wrists and ankles. “What are you doing here?”

“Cleaning up my predecessor’s mess, of course,” he answered as he sat in a chair opposite her. “I don’t think you realize the situation you and your friends find yourself in, Nancy. You personally killed three members of the US Military. Under normal circumstances, that’s game over.”

He let that statement linger in the air. Nancy said nothing.

“But, these are not normal circumstances. And you have friends here looking out for you. That I happen to care for. Like Chief-o and his wife. So, officially, your murders are being blamed on Eleven. She, as you will testify in a signed affidavit, invaded your mind and made you pull the trigger. Because, Nancy Wheeler, you’re not a great shot. You’ve barely handled a gun at all. How could a little girl like you kill three innocent men in cold blood?”

The camera in the corner loomed above her. Owens stared hard at her. Nancy knew, in that moment, this was it. Her life would go two ways. A military prison until she drew her last breath, or freedom. The curse was on her tongue, ready to spill. And she swallowed it down.

“Yes,” Nancy said, blankly. “That sounds right. Though it is all a fog, I fear.”

Owens smiled widely. “Good. Good.” He snapped a finger and the door opened. A soldier, not the one who dragged her in here, entered and released her from her shackles. Nancy stood, on shaky legs and stretched. Owens opened a folder with papers already drawn. He handed her a pen and pointed at the places she was supposed to sign. All she wanted to do was jam it in his neck. Nancy meekly signed. Every time she scrawled out ‘Wheeler’ she thought of what she had lost. What they had lost. Barb, Bob, Chrissy, Fred, Eddie. Eleven. Not even the thought of Holly could reduce the rising bile in her throat.

“Okay, we’re all set,” Owens said, when the last of the documents was signed. “Please take her back to holding.”

Down the hallway she was marched, back to the room she and Jonathan had been stuck in, originally. It was empty. Nancy found that disquieting.

She sat on the cold tile alone and started shivering. A little while later, Jonathan was tossed back into the cell with her. He settled next to her against the wall. Some years ago, it had been the wall of the Hawkins Middle School, but now it was a wall in a hastily constructed military installation. What was her life?

“I used to make her pancakes every weekend in Lenora,” Jonathan muttered as tears filled his eyes. “Swore her I’d get a waffle maker, but never got around to it. Now she’s dead.”

She pulled him into her, his head heavy against her shoulder. They were both beyond exhausted, having gone days with barely any sleep. But their grief waited for nothing, for no one.

“During the ride back to Hawkins, after the fight with Vecna in Nevada, she made me sit in the back while she attempted to braid my hair. Mike refused to let her. Will’s hair wasn’t long enough. Argyle’s was “too nice to touch,” according to El. So she made me do it. Somewhere around Iowa. She was bored and had her powers back and I was at her mercy,” he said while laughing through his tears.

He had so rarely mentioned his life in Lenora since he came back. Guilt ate at her, even after their confessions in the Upside Down. She should have gone, seen his life there, been a part of it. What if she’d dragged Mike there for that Thanksgiving? Would he have more memories of Eleven? Would she?