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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years

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The One That Stays

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- the end is nigh folks. Just a few more chapters. A/n2- So sorry if this feels rushed.)

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3 Chapter4 Chapter5 Chapter6 Chapter7 Chapter8

Chapter 9- Aftermath

“I’ve always been the kind to contemplate But you like the kind that don’t hesitate.” -Steve Moakler, Hesitate

When Y/n got back to her apartment, the first thing she did was call Julie, who unfortunately, didn’t answer her phone. With a heavy sigh, she made her way to her bedroom, getting out of her dress, tossing it to the laundry hamper, narrowly missing. Rummaging through her dresser, Y/n finally pulled out a pair of comfortable shorts and an old college sweater with the letters UCLA printed in bold navy letters at the front. Her hair was still wet from the torrential downpour, but Y/n couldn’t be bothered to plug in the drier. In fact, after the events of earlier that morning, all she wanted to do was bury herself in a mountain of pillows.

Every time she blinked, she could see the hurt look at Keanu wore when she just exploded at his place, like a time bomb that had been just waiting to go off. It had all just happened so fast; him blurting out that he loved her, waiting for her to say something, anything and then those pictures from the restaurant and Keanu admitting that he knew that it was happening all along. How could he?

Sniffing, Y/n finally realized that quiet tears had started trickling down her cheeks and as she plopped onto the sofa, her silent tears turned into body racking sobs. Possibly the best relationship of her life had just crumbled to nothingness.

Beside her, on the sofa, her discarded cell buzzed, and thinking it was Julie getting back to her, Y/n grabbed up the device, only to be disappointed when she saw what it actually was. Bombarding her notifications were texts from old friends and relatives, all asking the same questions, though, in different fashions; “Why didn’t you tell us you were seeing someone?” “You’re dating Keanu Reeves?” “Is that really you in the pictures?”

Of course, attached to their invasive messages, were tabloid articles and social media posts, and without responding, she opened one of the articles, the headlines reading; John Wick Star Keanu Reeves Dotes on Mystery Woman on Valentine’s Day: Check Out the Lucky Lady’s 21 Carat Present! Sure enough, the picture just below the headline was a zoomed in shot of the pendent resting on her chest, next to it, a photo of them kissing just after he had put it on for her. Quickly, with blurred vision, Y/n skimmed the article, that was filled with mostly speculations about how long they had been together and where on earth he could have possibly met a woman that would prompt him to buy a $30,000 necklace for what appeared to be their first Valentine’s together.

“Fuck,” Y/n breathed when she saw the estimated cost of it; it was almost as much as she got paid in a month. Which, arguably was a lot, but still. When Keanu had given it to her, he had said that expensiveness was subjective, which she eventually understood; to him the cost of something like that was barely a dent in his pocket and thus, being able to afford it was less than afterthought. But the writer seemed to have a different take on the issue, insinuating that Y/n had only gone out with him for his money and that she just wanted five minutes of fame.

Before she could get to the end, Y/n heard her front door open and slam, not even bothering to get up to see who it was; there was only one person with a key, and she was very liberal in using it. “Have you read these bullshit articles?” Julie’s voice reached the living room before she could, but soon, she was plopping down on the spot next to Y/n, “I can’t believe these assholes, calling you a gold digger,” Julie scoffed, though when she realized that Y/n was still crying, she pulled her into a hug, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. These things die down pretty quickly anyway.”

Y/n sniffled, “I know, it’s just....” she was so close to telling Julie what had happened earlier that morning, but Y/n didn’t think she was ready to talk about it, not until she had processed her feelings on her own.

“Just what honey?” Julie probed, passing one hand over Y/n’s tangled hair, while rubbing her back soothingly.

“Nothing,” Y/n shifted, pulling away and wiping her eyes hastily, “I don’t want to talk about it right now,” she determined, her tears slowing and her breaths evening.

Julie frowned, slumping her shoulders, “Are you sure? I shouldn’t have to tell you that you can talk to me about anything. Anything,” she took Y/n’s hand, “I’m here for you, always.”

“I know,” Y/n nodded, looking down at their joined hands, her brows knitting when she noticed something that wasn’t there before, “Is this.....what I think it is?” Y/n lifted Julies left hand closer to her face, examining the pink tinted, diamond. The ring, which sat comfortably on Julie’s left ring finger, was gorgeous; the largest, glittering stone set in a rose gold band, flanked by two smaller white diamonds, all no doubt, very real.

Suddenly, Y/n was putting aside her own internal turmoil to squeeze some details out of her best friend, “This is an engagement ring!”

“It is!” Julie returned with the same vigor.

Y/n’s mouth hung open, reddened eyes wide, “You don’t even have a boyfriend!”

Laughing childishly, Julie shook her head, “But now I have a fiancée!”

“Since when?”

Julie just shrugged, “Since about eighteen hours ago,” grabbing Y/n’s hands again, she scooted closer, “Don’t you want to know who he is?”

“Umm, obviously,” she chuckled, and when Julie hesitated, Y/n bounced a bit in her seat, “Come on Jules, tell me.”

“Okay, okay,” she beamed, “It’s Eric Riley. I know you two have never met, but I swear, you’ll love him, he’s such a sweetheart.”

“Jules, hun, isn't that the author you’re working with?” Y/n frowned, her brows furrowing. Julie had only known the man for a couple months, and now they were engaged? They hadn’t even been dating. Between the two, Julie had always been the one willing to take risks in the name of love, but an engagement and possibly marriage? That was a lot, even for her. She didn’t want to see her make a mistake that she might regret, but Y/n didn’t want to dwindle her excitement either. “Sweetie,” she continued, “You’ve only known him for two months, and he proposed last night?”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Julie countered, clearly about to try to convince Y/n of otherwise, “But we do love each other. And I know we haven’t been dating, but we have been going out a lot outside of work and I’ve never felt this way about someone,” Julie determined.

Stuttering, Y/n shook her head, standing and heading for the kitchen, deciding that a glass of wine might help her process the whole thing. Julie followed, close on her heels, eyeing Y/n through the corner of her eye as she got a couple glasses out of the cupboard. Wordlessly, Y/n poured them some and it was only after her first sip, did she speak again, “You can’t love someone you barely know Jules.”

Julie scoffed quietly, “Really,” she blinked quickly, as if trying to get rid of gathered tears, “Cause I loved my dad for sixteen fucking years and it turns out that I didn’t now him at all,”

Y/n’s jaw clenched and she involuntarily winced at the memory; when they were sixteen, Julie and her mom found out that her father had another family a couple states over and that his business trips were actually excuses to see them. By the time the news had spread to the rest of their community, he was gone, for good that time. Y/n had been at her friend's side, offering as much as she could and twelve years later, she knew Julie well enough to know that it still hurt like hell. Sighing, Y/n shook her head, “That’s not the same.”

“I know,” Julie agreed, “It’s not, but it means that you can know someone your entire life and still never really know them. Besides, I’ve learnt more about Eric in two months that I did about my dad in sixteen years, and it was enough to make me fall in love with him. Y/n/n,” Julie sighed, “So many people spend months, years even, going through the motions, never skipping a step, and in the end, they still end up with something they never wanted in the first place. And the way I see it; true, real love is already hard enough to come by, do you really think we should waste time putting it through all these tests? Why can’t we just feel the way we feel, for whoever we feel it for?”

Huffing, deep down, Y/n knew Julie was right, and glancing away, she couldn’t help it when her mind ran back to Keanu. Why couldn’t she just let herself feel the way she felt? If Y/n was being honest with herself, she was in love with Keanu, no doubt. Be she was also so scared of the fact; scared that it would make it easier for him to hurt her, scared that they were mistaking lust and infatuation for love, it wasn’t logical and the things she felt when they were together wasn’t something she could easily understand. What if things were going too fast for them to last? What if they were setting themselves up for heartbreak? There were so many ‘what ifs’. Taking another lengthily drag of her wine, Y/n began again, “Because-”

“Because it doesn’t make sense,” Julie finished before Y/n could, “You really want to wait around for something to make sense, and risk missing out on something beautiful?”

Tears pinched at Y/n’s eyes, but after a deep breath, she managed to quell her emotions before Julie could notice, her voice almost breaking when she finally admitted, “Maybe you’re right.” Forcing a smile, not wanting to further damper Julie’s moment with the ruins of her imploded relationship, Y/n pulled her into a tight hug, “Congratulations hun.”

Hugging her back just as tightly, Julie thanked her, “I’m so glad you could come around, my wedding would be a bore without my maid of honor.”

When they broke, Y/n and Julie still held each other’s arms, still smiling, Y/n added, “I hope he knows that if he breaks you’re heart, I’ll have to make him disappear.”

Giggling, Julie threw her blond head back, “Don’t worry, I told him. Oh!” She cooed, pulling Y/n into another hug, “I’m so happy!” She squealed, “And isn’t it amazing? We’ve both have these great guys, at the same time!”

Julie couldn’t see it, but Y/n’s fake smile faltered, and she wasn’t half as enthused as Julie when she meekly returned, “Yeah, yeah, I guess we have.”

Two Days Later Y/n sat in her car, the engine of her shiny off-white Range Rover idling. She was already ten minutes late for dinner with Julie and her new beau. Julie had offered to wait until Y/n had gotten home from work and was ready, so they could all go together, but she had declined. And because she had yet to tell her about Saturday afternoon’s incident, and probable break-up, when Julie had also asked if they could turn their introductory dinner into a double date, Y/n summed up some excuse about Keanu having a meeting with his manager.

The truth was that she actually hadn’t spoken to Keanu since that day. Though, Y/n would have liked to think that it was no fault of her own; she had called and texted, but he hadn’t been so inclined to respond. Of course, it stung, but considering that she was the one that walked out, she guessed that he deserved some time to work through it the way she was working through it.

That was what he needed right; time?

Then why did giving it to him feel like she was just making things worse?

Sighing, Y/n fished her cell out of her clutch, pulling up his number and hitting call. It rang, and rang, and rang, until his voicemail came up, and with a huff, Y/n didn’t bother with leaving a message and hung up.

Just as she turned the car off, her phone buzzed and with high hopes, Y/n quickly turned it over in her lap, only to let her shoulders slump when she saw that it was Julie, asking where she was. Hurriedly, Y/n let her know that she was on her way in, locking her car and jogging towards the entrance.

Inside, the hostess, a young woman dressed in black lead Y/n to Julie and Eric’s table just past the bar. “You’re here!” Julie clapped excitedly, standing, along with an attractive man, probably in his mid-thirties dressed in sensible khakis and a pale green sweater.

“I am,” Y/n giggled, pulling Julie into a short hug, “Sorry I’m late, I got caught up with some things at the office,” she lied smoothly. As they pulled away, Y/n offered her hand to Eric, “I’m Y/n.”

“Eric,” he returned with a warm smile, using his free hand to push up his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose, something that Y/n quickly registered as a nervous tick, “Pleasure to meet you, Julie talk about you, a lot,” he smiled, returning his hand to the small of Julie’s back as they all sat.

A waiter came, offering them wine, which everyone gratefully accepted and Y/n chortled quietly, “Funny, because I’ve barely heard a thing about you,” she teased, though Eric didn’t seem to find the humor in it and he started stuttering, obviously not sure if Y/n was trying to be mean or funny.

It was strange, Y/n thought; already, Eric didn’t really seem like Julie’s type; she usually went for the kind of guys that were so over-confident that they stole rooms by just walking in, the Adonis types with camera ready smiles and a body that was the product of six days a week spent at the gym; the personal trainers, wanna-be models, and if Y/n remembered correctly, there was even a pro-footballer somewhere in the mix. Of course she’d never call her best friend shallow, but Julie definitely had a type and if one wanted a word for said type, ‘jerk’ perfectly encapsulated it.

But Eric was shaping up to be a pleasantly welcome change of pace; a little shy, bookish, looked at Julie with wide eyes filled with adoration and Y/n was willing to bet all her money that the most outlandish thing he had ever done was proposing to Julie after just two months of knowing her.

Rubbing his arm comfortingly, Julie offered Y/n a playfully scolding stare, interjecting; “What Y/n means is that we haven’t had enough time for me to tell her about you. But this is what tonight is about; my guy,” she pecked his cheek sweetly and he went red up to his ears, “And my gal,” Julie took Y/n’s hand across the table, “Getting to know each other.”

A couple hours later, just before they had called for the check, the three sat, comfortable chatter dominating the table. They had already gone through a bottle and a half of wine, though none of them seemed drunk in the least, but the alcohol did seem to break the ice; warming Y/n a little more to idea of their engagement and helping Eric open up a bit.

A brief break in to conversation when Eric handed over his credit card to the waiter saw Y/n leaning back into her seat, wine glass to her lips, eyeing the couple wistfully; Eric’s arm was draped over the back of Julie’s chair and her head was nestled comfortably in his side. If Keanu were there, Y/n knew that they might have looked just the same.

“What?” Julie knitted her brows, meeting Y/n gaze.

“Nothing,” Y/n shook her head, finishing off her drink, toying with the stem of her now empty glass. Emboldened, Y/n barely hesitated before adding, “You know Eric, when Julie told me you proposed, I was a little worried. But now that we’ve met, if someone is going to propose to my sister after two months, I’m glad you were the one brave enough to do it.”

“What can I say?” Eric chuckled, glancing at Julie, “When you know you know, right? You just need to be willing to take that risk. Besides, Jules is worth any risk.”

As if forgetting that Y/n was there, the two fell into an episode of sweet kisses punctuated by soft giggles and whispered sweet nothings. With Eric’s earlier words and Julie’s little speech from Saturday still swirling around in her head, and seeing them so happy and in love, Y/n couldn’t help but miss Keanu more than ever.

It had only been two days, but still Y/n missed Keanu more than she missed past boyfriends that she had been away from for weeks. And yet there she was, calling phone calls and texts her best shot at reconciliation, just because she was too scared to march up to his house and offer him what she had been too frightened to before.

It had only been three weeks, Y/n didn’t know everything about Keanu, she probably never would, but she did know him enough to love him.

He was worth the risk.

And she had been waiting for something beautiful to make sense.

But what Y/n had only just realized was that the only thing that made sense about her relationship with Keanu was that she loved him. His laugh, the way it felt when they held hands, the warmth she felt down to her toes when they kissed, everything. Y/n loved Keanu, in the truest sense of the word.

She had to fix things.

Standing abruptly, Y/n grabbed up her purse from the table, startling both Julie and Eric. “I have to go,” she offered hurriedly, already searching for her car keys, “It was great to meet you Eric,” Y/n was already walking off, glancing back towards the table.

“But we wanted to tell-”

Y/n cut Julie off, “Uh, I’ll call you.....or something. But I really have to go.”

In no time, Y/n was out of the restaurant, in her car and backing out of the spot. Taking all the shortcuts she could think off, she even came close to crossing the speed limit.

It didn’t take half as long as it would have via the usual route, and twenty minutes later, Y/n was parked on curb, in front of a familiar house. The same one she had left in a frenzy on Saturday, while the rain poured down on all of Los Angeles.

With her heart in her throat, Y/n got out, shoving the door shut and making her way to the front door. Her breaths were ragged with anxiety and her palms were sweaty. Exhaling loudly, she pushed the little silver button; the automatic hum of the doorbell faint from the outside. Not long after, the front lights turned on, bathing her with a bright white warmth. And then, seconds later, the front door was pulled open, revealing Keanu, already in his pajamas; lounge pants and an old t-shirt, his hair messy and renewed hurt painting his handsome features at the sight of her.

Licking his lips, Y/n thought that Keanu looked as if he were contemplating shutting the door but couldn’t bring himself to do it. Swallowing tightly, she willed herself to speak, “Hey,” Y/n croaked and when he looked away without replying, she continued, “Can we talk?”

******

Tagging- @kindainlovewithkeanu @harrisongslimited @a-really-bi-girl @soarocks @baphometwolf666

#Keanu Reeves #Keanu reeves x reader #Keanu reeves x you #Keanu reeves fanfic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick #john wick fanfic #the one that stays #ff #fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 9

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assholemurphy · 6 years

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Stranger Things/Harry Potter

Steve/Jonathan

Summary: Rebellious Gryffindor Steve Harrington sets out to prank Filch, but quickly finds himself lost in Hogwarts in the middle of the night, cue the Room of Requirement coming to his rescue. Inside he finds Jonathan Byers, a Hufflepuff with a serious attitude problem, developing photos from a muggle camera. Steve is confused as to why anyone would want anything to do with muggle technology and accidentally offends Jonathan by saying so, which is the last thing he wants, because Jonathan's pretty and Steve wants a chance with him, but his reputation may get in the way, and unless he's willing to try harder, Jonathan wants nothing to do with him.

Written for Stonathan Week 2017 - Prompt: Stranger Fusion

Rating: General

Word Count: 3567

Warnings: None

It was late and Steve was prowling around the castle, looking to prank Filch or something equally as childish and stupid. He knew he’d get away with it, Peeves would gladly take the blame just to watch McGonagall’s head explode when she found out. They had an odd friendship, he and Peeves, born out of mutual boredom and a desire to watch authority figures in distress. It wasn’t malicious in intent, more mischievous than anything. His most recent act of rebellion was to transfigure Snape’s cup to turn into a live hamster whenever he poured liquid in it. Sure, it was probably cruel to the hamster to be bathed in pumpkin juice so many times in a day, but it was hilarious to watch Snape yank his fingers away as if he’d been bitten, and judging by the bandages he wore the last time Steve had Potions, that was exactly what had happened. It had taken all of his self control not to burst out laughing, but because of it, he’d added too much eye of newt to his potion and caused a minor explosion that had singed his partner’s hair and left him with no eyebrows. Needless to say, he’d needed a new partner, so he’d gotten stuck with Nancy Wheeler, a Ravenclaw who’d managed to skip a year of potions and thus, was Snape’s favorite student, much to her displeasure.

Maybe Snape had thought that if he put them together, they’d balance out, but he’d spent the whole time doing his best to impress her with tales of his glory and she, in return, told him of the horror stories she had of working with Snape after classes. He was rude to everyone but her, but his praise made her want to gag. Steve couldn’t blame her, he was greasy and old, and everyone suspected he was really a Death Eater in disguise. Steve could confirm it, too, he’d seen the tattoo, but he’d kept that to himself, thinking it’d be better blackmail than gossip. He wondered if Dumbledore knew, but he reckoned he did. Something about the Headmaster didn’t sit right with Steve. It was like he was always planning something, always keeping secrets and telling you exactly what you asked to know and not a bit more, leading you to believe you could trust him, when in reality he was more than willing to let you fall to save himself. Or maybe it was just Steve’s aversion to authority talking.

But even with all his pranks, Steve was missing something. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, as he had everything he could want, save for parents that cared, but he’d convinced himself he was over caring about that, at least, for the most part. He felt an emptiness, and he couldn’t quite fill it with anything. He had friends, sure, they weren’t the greatest, but they kept him from being lonely, and he had girls, anyone he wanted, even if they weren’t quite what he wanted. He liked them, sure, but he’d noticed himself noticing the guys, as well, which wasn’t as big of a revelation as it should have been. Steve took it in stride, like he did everything, and didn’t let it shake him. Nothing could shake him, nobody could get to him, and that was how he liked it. Or so he’d convinced himself.

But dwelling on things he couldn’t, or really, wasn’t willing to change wouldn’t help anything. He had to look for that stupid cat. If he found the cat, he could put the bell on it and keep it from chasing away the rats, which would annoy Filch, but if he didn’t know it was a bell, if he thought it was, say, a bow, then he’d never take it off. He’d even handwritten a note to attach to the collar for when Filch noticed it. Nothing special, a simple ‘I think you’re purrfect. From your secret admirer.’ Not his best work, but he figured it would do well enough. Filch wasn’t going to criticize the lack of originality.

Steve finally found Mrs. Norris in the fourth hallway he checked. He did his best to sneak up on her, but she noticed him when he was less than a foot away and jumped away from his outstretched hands.

“Come on, kitty, I’ve got a gift for you. It’s pretty and pink and you’ll love it!” Steve whined, chasing after the cat.

He tried to keep track of where he was going, but they took one too many turns and he found himself in an area of the castle he’d never been in before, at least, not in the dark, because everything looked different in the dark, and the castle was huge, so he could have been anywhere. So, he did the only thing he could. He turned around and began to wander through the castle, trying to remember the steps he’d taken to get where he was, but it was to no avail. He looked for some kind of marker, a statue or a painting, anything that looked familiar, but he couldn’t find anything. He finally found a hallway safe from the prying eyes of the portraits that he swore were laughing at him and sagged against the wall, frustrated and tired. He carded his fingers through his hair and let out a quiet huff, glaring at the wall across from him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to find his way back on his own. He’d could wander all night and still be lost.

Slowly, the wall in front of him began to change, taking the shape of a door. He couldn’t quite believe it. He knew the castle was magic, but randomly appearing doors? What the hell was that about? He knew he’d read something about this in one of the textbooks he’d actually bothered to open this year. Right! The Room of Requirement, that must be what this was. Maybe inside he’d find a map or a bed or something that would allow him to get some sleep tonight, be it here or back in his own bed in the Gryffindor dorms.

He opened the door slowly, unsure of what he may find, and was greeted by a soft red light and a room full of dark shadows, creating what was arguable the creepiest room he’d been in in the castle. He shrugged and stepped inside, following the light to its source, finding a figure standing before a table with white tubs on it. “Hey?”

The figure jumped, turning around to look at him, “Hello? Is someone else in here?”

It was too dark to make out his features from where Steve stood, he’d have to get closer to really see him, but he was shorter than him, not by much, and smaller, but his voice was what Steve fixated one. It was rough, calming, and gentle, his words hesitant like he was thinking them over before saying them. It instantly put Steve at ease in the dark room, which was more than could be said for the other boy, who had tensed up once he’d heard Steve in the room.

“Yeah, uh, I’m here. What is this place?” Steve asked, walking forward and getting hit in the face with a string that seemed to come from nowhere. He looked around and noticed several other strings, some with papers hanging off them. “What are you doing in here?”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” The boy questioned, wary. “It’s a dark room set up by the Room of Requirement. I’m developing photos.”

“Couldn’t you just take them to Hogsmeade and get them developed?” Steve moved the string out of the way and started forward again, coming to a stop next to the boy.

“They aren’t- No, no, I can’t. Who are you, anyway?”

“I’m Steve Harrington. You are?” From here he could make out his features, they were angular and sharp, he looked tired, not like he hadn’t slept, but like the world was exhausting to him, and Steve wondered exactly who he was and what made him so wary. Overall, from what he could see, he was cute, cuter than any other guy Steve had seen at the castle, and he thought he knew everyone. Immediately, Steve felt the need to impress him, like he did every pretty person, but something told him he wasn’t going to fall for his tricks so easily. That was fine, Steve liked a challenge, and he was pretty sure the boy would be worth it.

“Jonathan Byers. How’d you get here?” He replied, an edge to his voice like something Steve had said was wrong. He turned back to what he was doing, no longer looking at Steve.

Steve shrugged and leaned against the table, “I was chasing a cat and then this door popped up.”

“The Room only appears when you need it, so, do you need to develop some photos?” Jonathan asked, looking over at him as he used a pair of tongs to shake a piece of paper in the tub.

“No. Maybe it thought I needed you,” Steve flirted, smirking.

“That’s ridiculous. Maybe it was a fluke,” Jonathan reasoned, paying no attention to Steve’s flirting. He sounded puzzled.

“Or maybe you need me,” Steve offered. Either way, he needed something in the room, but he didn’t think it was going to help him get back to his dorm any time soon. Not that he was going to complain. He got to spend the night with a pretty boy, that would make up for lack of sleep.

“I need to finish developing my photos, so if you could move, that’d be helpful,” Jonathan told him, holding up a piece of paper with the tongs.

Steve moved out of the way and watched as Jonathan dipped the paper into another tub of foul smelling chemicals and he wondered how he hadn’t died from the fumes yet. Steve had only been in here a few minutes but the fumes were already making his head hurt. Still, he wasn’t going to leave just yet. He didn’t know what his goal for staying was, but maybe if he stayed long enough, he could get Jonathan to go out with him. That would be nice. He hadn’t been out with many of the guys from Hogwarts, as they didn’t really flock to him as easily as the girls, but Steve was willing to put forth more effort for Jonathan.

Steve watched as the photos developed their color before Jonathan hung them on the line. “Why aren’t they moving?”

“It’s a muggle camera,” Jonathan explained.

“Why would you want one of those?” Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust. Who would want a muggle camera when wizarding ones were so much better?

“It was a gift from my mother,” Jonathan shrugged. “I like it.”

“But they don’t move,” Steve frowned, poking at one of the photos on the line.

“Don’t touch it! And they aren’t supposed to.”

Steve pulled his hand back, “What’s the fun in that. It’s so boring.”

“Look, if all you’re going to do is insult my work, then you can get out,” Jonathan snapped.

Steve held up his hands, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just don’t get it. Maybe you could explain it to me?”

“Why would I do that, Harrington?” Well, alright, Steve could understand his anger. He had been kind of a dick about the camera. Still, he didn’t have to be so rude.

“Someone’s pissy. Look, I want to understand, okay, tell me. I’m all ears, Jonny boy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Explain to me why you like the muggle camera, I’ll won’t call you that.”

Jonathan sighed, annoyed, “Or I could just fucking hex you and be done with it.”

“Oh, but that wouldn’t be much fun. I’m much more fun when not hexed.”

“I’d find it hilarious. Especially if you started spewing toads instead of bullshit.”

“You’re so mean to me. You’re a Slytherin, aren’t you? Always so full of yourselves. I’m just trying to-”

Jonathan cut him off, “Flirt. You’re trying to flirt with me, and I don’t appreciate being toyed with. And for your information, I’m a Hufflepuff.”

“Hufflepuffs aren’t usually this rude.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Steve smirked, threading the collar between his fingers, “I think you like my flirting.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Then make me leave,” Steve told him, feeling triumphant.

Jonathan looked at him for a moment before sighing, “Honestly, what do you want from me, Harrington?”

“Well, for starters, I’d like to take you out when we go to Hogsmeade next week. Then, I’d like to know why you like this muggle stuff so much. And maybe a kiss, if I’m lucky,” Steve said, doing his best to be charming.

“Please, even if you drank Liquid Luck, I wouldn’t kiss you,” Jonathan huffed, putting more papers in the tub.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Why? Because everyone falls at your feet, ready to do whatever you say? Because you’ve never been told ‘no’ before and don’t know how to take it? Or is it because you expect me to be so overwhelmed by the fact that you’re talking to me that I’ll completely lose all self-respect?”

Steve was taken aback. He wasn’t used to being talked to like that. People usually liked him, liked his flirting. “Have I done something wrong?”

“You’re acting like a jackass,” Jonathan informed him, matter-of-factly.

“Because I’m flirting with you?”

“Because you’re toying with me.”

“I’m not.”

“You really expect me to believe you’re actually interested in me? Please, I’m not that stupid.”

“I am and I do. Why’s it so hard to believe? I think you’re pretty, and you’ve got quite the personality, don’t you? I mean, sure, you’re a bit of a prick, but I’m cool with that.” Steve had dated worse people. Not that Jonathan was even close to that, he just seemed a bit defensive, that was all, and they could get past that.

“You actually want to go out with me?” Jonathan asked with a sigh, not quite believing he was having this conversation.

“Yes. And I’ll prove it to you, anything you want me to do, I’ll do it,” Steve offered.

“I want you to shut up.”

“I shut up and you’ll go out with me?”

“No. But if you shut up I won’t turn you into a teacup.”

“Why are you so rude?” Steve whined.

“Because I don’t like you.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know your reputation.”

Steve was offended. “And so you’re going to judge me based on a few rumors?”

“Yes,” was the simple reply, and Steve wasn’t sure why he expected anything less. He did have quite the reputation, and most of it was true. He dated people often, a new person each week, just because they bored him, and he was quite the rebellious person, getting into trouble more often than almost anyone else, which cost Gryffindor a lot of points, and he supposed they’d hate him if he wasn’t so likable.

Steve fell silent, unsure what else to say until Jonathan flicked on the light with no warning. “God! The fuck?”

“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry at all.

“It’s cool. Nice art.” But Steve wasn’t looking at the photos, he was staring at Jonathan, taking in his features in the light. The shadows had made his features look sharper, but now Steve could see there was a softness to him, a kindness that he didn’t want to expose. His robes were rumpled like he’d slept in them, which was probably the reason for the couch in the corner furthest from the chemicals, and his hair was a mess, but Steve found it endearing. He moved without thinking, reaching out to straighten it a bit, Jonathan blinking at him.

“Excuse me?” Jonathan squeaked out, sounding more startled than offended.

Steve jerked his hand back, “Sorry. I just-”

Jonathan huffed, “It’s fine, just don’t touch me again. Why are you still here?”

“Truthfully? I kinda don’t know how to get back to my dorm,” Steve told him with a grimace. He hated how pathetic that sounded. Who got lost in Hogwarts in the middle of the night? It wouldn’t have happened if he had just gone to bed like he was supposed to. Or if that damn cat would have held still for a few more seconds. It was both of their faults, really.

Jonathan nodded and began taking down the now dry photos. “I’ll show you the way back. You’re close to the kitchen now, somewhere between it and the library.”

“I’m not even sure how to get to the library during the day,” Steve admitted.

“I’ll show you.” Jonathan sighed and tucked the photos into his bag.

Jonathan lead Steve down the hallways in silence, Steve fiddling with the collar he never got to put on the cat, the bell ringing softly.

Noticing the noise, Jonathan asked, “What is that?”

“A present for Filch.” Steve held it out and Jonathan took it, looking it over before reading the note and scoffing.

“This is why I don’t like you. You’re a needlessly cruel jackass.”

“What? It’s just a collar.”

“It’s a trick, I don’t know what you did to it, but it’s nothing good. And the note is cruel,” Jonathan told him, handing it back in disgust.

“I thought it was a nice touch,” Steve said, a little hurt. He thought it would be funny.

“Yeah, you would, because you don’t see the problem with toying with other people’s feelings for your own entertainment,” Jonathan snapped, turning around. “You should be able to find your way from here.”

“Stop,” Steve reached out, grabbing Jonathan’s arm only to have it jerked away.

“What?” Jonathan hissed.

“Give me a chance? If you don’t want me to fuck with Filch anymore, then I won’t, okay? You’re right, it was a dick move, and I have no excuse for it.” Steve knew he was right, he didn’t know why Jonathan cared, it didn’t affect him, but he wanted to make him stop looking at him like he was a disappointment. He didn’t know what made Jonathan so special or why his opinion mattered so damn much, but it did. Jonathan was rude and antisocial and yet, Steve wanted to befriend him. He liked him, a lot, and if he had to change himself to make Jonathan happy, he would. It wasn’t like he really liked the person he was now, anyway. “I’ll do better. Give me a chance, okay?”

“I’m not going to fix you.” Steve wasn’t Jonathan’s responsibility and he wasn’t going to baby him and help him understand the error of his ways, that was for Steve to do on his own.

“I’m not asking you to. I’ll fix myself, I just- I don’t know why I like you, but I do, and I want to be better, but no one’s ever called me on my shit before.” No one had ever cared to.

Jonathan considered it for a moment before asking, “What do you want from me?”

“Just one date.” Steve held up a finger. “One date before you judge me.”

“I’m not going to date you until you’ve got your shit together.”

“The hang out with me. We don’t have to be alone, either. I’m studying with Nancy Wheeler tomorrow, in the library, if I can find it. Come study with us. It’s obvious you could use some friends, too. I mean, you sleep in a dark room. It’s not healthy to be so antisocial,” Steve rambled on.

Jonathan sputtered, offended even though Steve was right, “I didn’t ask-”

“Just come, okay?”

Jonathan sighed “No flirting?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Steve promised.

“I’m sure that’s not saying much.”

“Jonathan-”

“What time?” Jonathan asked, giving in. He may as well. Worst case scenario, he didn’t like them and left. Maybe it would be nice to make some friends.

Steve smiled, “After dinner, we’re leaving from the Hall.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you in the library,” Jonathan told him, getting ready to leave again.

“Or you could meet us after dinner and we could walk together, since we’ll be there anyways,” Steve suggested. Why not go all at once, since they had to eat beforehand.

“I don’t eat in the Great Hall. I get food from the kitchen,” Jonathan explained with a shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m antisocial. Mind your own business, Harrington.”

“I still think you should have been a Slytherin, you’ve got the attitude down. But who am I to question the Hat?”

“Just go to bed.”

Steve gave him one last smile before he walked away, calling after him, “Night, Jonathan.”

As Steve watched his retreating form, he realized the Room had been right in appearing to him. The Room of Requirement gave people what they needed most, and Steve supposed that was Hogwarts’s way of telling him he needed Jonathan, and truthfully? He didn’t disagree. Maybe it would be for the better to have someone who would call him on his shit and give him a reason to try harder. And he would try harder. Something told him Jonathan would be worth changing for, and even if they didn’t work out, Steve would be better for it, and he owed that to himself.

#stonathanweek2017 #stonathan #stonathan fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #jonathan byers #steve harrington #hogwarts au #hogwarts crossover #i did it #i wrote a crossover #i am ashamed #tbh it would have just been an au but i couldn't think of characters for the roles of professors and such #so i just used the established ones #but i do have an idea for a sequel to this is anyone is interested #i might write that eventually #my fics #stonathan fic #stranger things fic

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