Chapter 1: A Jonathan Byers x Reader one shot
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You two lay there, in the bliss and golden hues of his room.
The smiths were playing 'There is a Light that Never Goes Out' and Jonathan was humming it while running his fingers through your hair.
You lay with your head in the crook of his neck, tucked against his body, arm thrown over his chest because he was yours. You were softly singing the lyrics too, in between kisses into his jaw and neck.
It was perfect in that moment.
Nights like these you savoured and hung on to, nights where there was you and him. No one else existing in the world.
"Jon?" You whispered.
"Mmm?"
"I love you."
You felt the muscles in his neck contort against your lips as he smiled and you pressed a kiss to where his jaw tightened.
"I love you too."
You closed your eyes and he pulled you even closer, pulling a leg over the top of his lap so that he had become a body pillow for you. You weren't going to complain, he was a very soft pillow.
"Y/N?" He said softly, twisting so he could sit up. You followed suit, slipping away from him and up fully with your legs crossed.
"What is it?" You asked. Worry creased your brow.
Then Jonathan blushed.
A cherry hue that danced down his cheeks to his collarbone and beneath his shirt.
"I want you. I want to have you now."
You and him had had sex before, rather frequently even, and god was it great but you could see that he was a bit embarrassed this time. Once he had realised you wanted him, actually wanted him he initiated it many times and you loved letting him take control.
However.
This was different.
You scooted closer, tilting your head just so. There was really nothing to be anxious about.
"Of course Jon, I- yes- why would this time be any different?"
The cherry flush turned plum coloured, and he reached out, settling his big hands on your hips and pulling you into his lap so you straddled him.
You could smell him, his minty aftershave laced with weed.
"No, Y/N-"
He gained confidence, gripping your waist.
"I want to eat you out. I want you to feel good. I want you to come into my mouth because of me."
The words spun through your head.
Oh.
He was looking at you through half lidded eyes now, champagne lust clouding his vision. You felt it too. The heat pooling in your belly. If the way he was looking at you wasn't enough, like you were the only light he saw, the tightness of his jeans beneath you also… supported that.
The thing that maybe excited you most though was that this wasn't about him.
He was hungry for you. For you to feel good.
He was waiting, every second passing, doubt creeping into his features.
Had he been too bold? Too forward?
You leaned forward and kissed him. Lazy and messy. He pulled you impossibly closer, gripping your shirt-his shirt that you had slipped on.
Pulling back slightly, you whispered onto his lips; "I'm all yours Jon, Please, have me."
He dipped his forehead to yours and groaned.
"Jesus Christ Y/N."
You kissed him again, reconnecting your lips, passionate but still slow. Savouringly.
You let out a breathy moan as he pressed his palm through the thin fabric of the David Bowie top to the tips of your breasts. You were so perfect. He was so lucky.
You pulled at the hem of his shirt and broke your hazy kisses to pull the shirt off. He looked at you through lidded eyes, asking you silently to follow suit, smiling at you like you were the most beautiful thing.
To him you were.
You complied, grinning at him. You fell back next to him, letting him lean over top of you.
You smiled as his hair fell in front of his eyes as he leant down to kiss you. You pushed some strands of hair back and let your fingers roam and intertwine behind his neck.
He kissed you sweetly and loosely and moved down your jaw to kiss everything he could.
He paid extra attention to your chest; kneading your boobs even after passing them with his mouth, eventually letting his hands catch up and moving them down your waist along your hips to your thighs where he had made himself comfortable.
His strong fingers massaged into your thighs. You were wearing a pair of his boxers, them hanging a bit loosely on you.
At the beginning of your relationship he had let it slip that he loved seeing you in his clothes. You had obviously never forgotten as the only two items of clothing you had been wearing had been from his drawers.
Now, laid out in only his boxers, an elbow over your eyes as he peppered kisses to your thighs, you looked like heaven to him.
And you were his.
He frequently basked in that feeling.
He moved his thumb up slightly, running it down the hem of the boxers, asking you, pleading for you to let him.
He pushed a bit harder with the palm of his other hand to your clothed cunt.
Biting back a moan, you cried "Christ, Jonathan, come on, fuck!"
You let your hand snake into his hair, pulling, and he thrust into the bed, his own jeans seeming ridiculously tight then.
He pulled the boxers down and pressed his nose to your mound, firmly pressing his flat tounge against your folds, tasting you. His thumb circled your clit and you forgot to breathe as his tongue pressed further. You tugged his head up, searching, your hands still burried in his hair. He moaned into your core and then he found it.
You gasped and let go of his hair, hands flying to cover your mouth.
Joyce and Will being in the next rooms down only solidifying in your mind now, seeming pretty unimportant prior to this.
His strong hands spread your legs further, exposing you. He needed more. Flicking his tounge against your clit and fucking you with his tounge had you gasping and moaning High pitched pleads in minutes.
"God, don't stop Jonathan, please baby oh my god"
He smiled into you and lapped at your cunt. He loved hearing his name on your lips.
He loved you.
Your sweet words.
He kept that same pace pressing a little harder on your clit, lapping a little deeper until you clenched around his tounge, his fingers rubbing your clit hard enough for you to arch your back high off the bed.
"FUCK! GOD JONATHAN YES!"
You squeezed your eyes closed, waves of ecstasy racking your body.
Slowly, Jonathan pulled away. He was a bit sweaty and some of his hair had stuck to his forehead.
In your out-of-it state you giggled a bit and tried your best to pull him towards you. In reality you made grabby hands and he hauled himself off the floor.
Letting himself fall next to you he took a deep breath before turning on his side.
"I just gotta- uh take care of this. Gimme a sec."
After coming maybe the hardest you've ever come, you could see that that wasn't entirely fair.
You smiled at him, lopsidedly.
"Don't bother babe."
You shuffled downwards, towards the bulge that should have been freed like twenty minutes ago.
"Y/N, seriously, you don't have to."
You paused.
"If you don't want me to I won't." You said.
You looked up at him.
He looked like a fever dream, shirtless, a bit sweaty, soft stomach moving with his rapid breathing, hair a bit plastered to his forehead, brown eyes hooded, topsy turvey smile on his face.
"I didn't say that, did I."
"So let me." You said, grinning.
He smiled down at you. "Jesus you're perfect."
You kissed his exposed stomach in response before busying your hands, working at the jean zipper. As soon as it came lose his dick sprang forward and Jonathan let out a breathy gasp from above you as you palmed his dick through his boxers.
A wet patch had formed now and, like every time before, you were almost mesmerised by his cock. Wiggling your fingers to the elastic of the boxers you tugged and watched as his cock came to life, bouncing up and hitting his stomach.
Above you Jonathan moaned, the palms of his hands pressed to his eyes.
Even though you two had been together for quite some time he always got a bit flustered and embarrassed when you seemed to worship him in this way. Some sort of confidence deficiency which, even after he knew in his bones that you loved every inch of him, still made him worry that you would laugh or embarrass him.
His whole body was flushed and the skin, taut over his v-line, stretched further as he pushed up, against your fingertips that had begun to ghost his length.
"Gods baby." He murmured as you began to stroke him up, pressing down on the head, squeezing slightly along the shaft.
The first time you had given him a handjob you had taken it torturously slowly, asking him to show you with your hands what made him feel good. You had both been giggling messes as he directed your hands but now, applying that knowledge, he was groaning and grasping and you were proud at retaining the knowledge of how to make your boyfriend feel this good.
After stroking him for a few minutes you decided to use your mouth too, littering little kisses to the head of his cock while he stuttered and his breath faltered above.
Right.
Time to try something you hadn't before, he surely deserved it.
Quickly you engulfed his whole cock in the warmth of your mouth, letting the head of his dick hit the back of your throat. Your mouth went completely slack, and what you couldn't quite fit you stroked.
He moaned then, low and hoarse.
You swallowed around him, avoiding teeth carefully and pushing your nose to his skin, taking him whole in the warmth of your mouth.
Something in him snapped as he cried out your name, his fingers tangling in your long h/c hair, and forcing you up and down, face fucking you.
You didn't mind.
Nancy had told you that Steve had done that once and she had hated it, and after she told Steve that, he had never done it again. She said she had hated the way she had no control and how she had to consciously breathe.
That might be what you loved most.
You could see him, his eyes were tightly closed and his breathing was ragged, his moans gravely.
You had no control and you loved it a bit. You were sure if you tapped him he would let up but you didn't. You liked it.
He was rambling your name, over and over and if that didn't give you a big head, Jesus Christ what would.
"Jesus fuck Y/N I'm coming baby I'm so sorry for holding you like that baby I'm sorry"
He released his grip on your head, allowing you to lift off of him, but you didn't. You kept that same pace going just as deep, hollowing your cheeks until he cried out.
"Holy shit Y/N yeah baby right there so perfect OH!"
Quickly you felt him empty into your mouth and you sucked him through, finally pulling away once he finished.
You both looked like you had run a marathon. He smelled like sex. The air was warm and heavy. You smiled at him, drunk on him. He smiled back. You pulled yourself into his arms.
"We are so gross and sweaty." You said, smiling into his bicep.
"We are." He replied, looking up at the ceiling. You looked too. There were cheap plasticky glow in the dark stars stuck there with bluetack.
"We need to have a shower." Jonathan said.
You cuddled closer to him.
"We do."
You both lay there, unmoving.
You waited for a few seconds before whispering.
"Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is good."
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