#I drew the funny fish man tumblr am I cool please say yes

[babygirlalaura]

serving cunt 💅 gettin cash 💸 💰 payingfor crimes that he did not commit 😎 🔪

[freefallingforfanfiction]

Super Strange Things

Chapter Three: I Don’t Give A Damn ‘Bout My Bad Reputation  

Pairing: Eventual Johnathan Byers x Reader

Overall Summary: Y/N Winchester, middle child of John and Mary Winchester, arrives in Hawking’s with her family to investigate a series of disappearances and hearsay of a strange, faceless monster, along with a girl who can supposedly move things with her mind.

This Chapter: Y/N and Jonathan receive a less than fun visit from Steve and his crew. 

Warning: Warped time line (like music and birthdates of certain characters).

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @bands-and-shietz

Authors Note:  Friendly suggestion to turn off Tumblr’s  “Best Stuff First” in your dash board settings as it is hurting smaller blogs and lessening the material you see.

One of the disadvantages of being below the average height was that it made everything harder to reach, harder to see. Your brothers, it had seemed, had stolen every single height gene that either side of your family had to offer, and you would by ling if you said you weren’t just the slightest bit bitter about it.

This reason alone would be why you were currently standing atop the bench of one of the outdoor tables, your right hand shielding the bright sunlight from your E/C irises as you looked for your new found friend, Jonathan.

He had said to meet him outside after school so that the two of you could head to his house so he could teach you how to take proper photos in the daylight. It had been a long time since you were this excited, you were practically vibrating with energy atop that table with the passing students giving you strange glances, but you didn’t really care. You were focused on finding Jonathan, and when you finally spotted him, he leaning against a pole, trying to be subtle about looking for you. But you could see his head slowly turning as his gaze raked over the school yard.

With a satisfied smile, you jumped from the picnic table and started to make your way over to him, slinging your school bag over your shoulder, as you had plopped it down while you were searching.

“Hello,” you chirped, causing Jonathan to jump slightly.

“Hey,” he greeted, shifting his shoulders awkwardly. The vast majority of his mannerisms seemed to be laced with ineptness, which you found oddly endearing. “You wanna get going?”

“Sure,” you replied, linking you flannel covered arm through his jacketed one. Jonathan stiffened at your action, but you ignored his stiffness and began to walk towards his old, beat up car. He eased into his position along the way, and you found yourself smiling lightly as you walked, enjoying the feeling of your new friend on your arm, that is, until you saw a few figures perched up against Jonathan’s car, watching the two of you approach. You felt Jonathan go rigid, and you quirked your head to the side.

“Whose that leaning on your car?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.

“Trouble,” Jonathan muttered as he began to walk towards the car, breaking from your hold as he put himself in front of you, as the two of you approached the group of students leering at him. You followed behind closely, watching the group of kids blatantly, a strut in your step that you always seemed to acquire when confrontation arose.

“Hey man,” a boy with large hair stepped forward, his words were friendly, but his eyes and stance said otherwise.

“What’s going on?” Jonathan asked, his voice small.

The boy who had first spoken, Steve maybe? You were pretty sure you had heard things about him around school. One of the popular kids, maybe. You were going to call him Steve either way. Steve stared at Jonathan accusingly, “Nicole here was just telling us about your work.”

Nicole, you assumed, was the red head with longer hair, who perked up at the mention of herself.

“We heard great things,” Carol, an obnoxious girl from you biology class, said. Her voice was a little too cheery for your liking.

“Yea,” a guy with a face plastered full of freckles said, “Sounds real cool.”

“We’d just love to take a look,” Steve said, looking down at Jonathan, “You know, being connoisseurs of art.”

You had come to a halt beside Jonathan, crossing your arms and cocking your right up out,  your intense E/C gaze sweeping over the group of students, the two girls stared back at you, but dared not say a word. You were very intimidating when mad, even despite your smaller stature, and you damn well knew it.

What the fuck is going on here? You wondered to yourself.

But as you stared at the accusing faces the group of students were giving you, it hit you, what the group was talking about. “We don’t want to stumble into Steve’s yard.” This must have been the people that were outside last night around the pool. They were talking about the pictures you had taken of them the night before when Jonathan was trying to teach you to use his camera.

“Ohhhh,” you grinned, the wheels in your heading turning quickly in hopes of diffusing the situation. You unzipped Jonathan’s backpack and stuffed your hand inside, fishing around for the binder that he kept his photos in. When you found it, you drew it out and opened it up, flipping through Jonathan’s pristine shots until your eyes landed on the out of focus photos you had undoubtedly taken the night before.

“Here, you must be talking about these things I took last night.”

Jonatan shot you a questioning look, but you brushed him off as you focused on Steve.

“Last night Jon and I ran into each other in the woods where the police department found Will’s bike. Jon was looking for clues, I was looking for something my dad had dropped earlier that day, he’s the FBI agent on the case you see,”

Steve watched you with his arms crossed over his chest, he had the pictures clutched in his right hand but had yet to look at them, opting to watch you re tell the vents that had occurred last night. You figured by now he would have figured out Dean, who had established himself a popular playboy in just one short day, was your older brother. And it only took a few interactions with your elder brother to understand that he would fuck up anyone’s world if they tried something funny with you or Sammy. He was playing it safe. A smart move on his behalf.

“I asked Jonathan if he could teach me to take pictures like him, I’d always want to learn, but we never stayed in once place long enough to, not that my dad would ever buy me a camera anyway but, long story short. He agreed to teach me, and we were taking some other photos of things around the site when we heard a scream, which we ran to investigate. When we saw it was just you guys partying, Jon wanted to leave. But there’s was a lot of light right there, so I could see what I was doing, so I just wanted to snap a few and see what I needed improving on,” you paused and shrugged your shoulders.

“Jon had to develop them while I was in lit class, and we were just heading to his house to go over them, then trash them. I’ll be honest, I never really thought about how weird it was until now.”

“She’s just trying to cover for him,” the freckled boy in the back accused.

“Yea, no.” You replied with a roll of your E/C eyes. “Just telling the truth, if you look at the ones I just handed, Steve, I think? Is that your name? That’s what I’ve decided to call you, anyway, if you look at the photos I’ve handed Steve you will see that those photos are armature hour, while these are, quite frankly, gallery worthy.” You held up Jonathan’s binder, showing off a few of his faultless photos to the group.

Steve analyzed the two examples carefully, frowning as he looked at your photos.

“You could try not to look so disappointed, Steve. I am still new at that,” you grumbled sarcastically.

Carol peeked over his shoulder, her face scrunching up as she took some of the photos from Steve. “This isn’t creepy at all,” she said, looking at the photos in disgust.

“Oh please, you can’t even make out who you are in most of these,” you snapped.

“You do realize this is called stalking?” Steve asked, looking at Jonathan.

“Hey,” you said, snapping your fingers to avert Steve’s outrage back onto you, “Your issue is with me, not with him. Eyes over here.”

“And fist of all, stalking is an unwanted obsession by an individual over an elongated period of time. So, going by that definition, I am not a stalker, as I’ve only been in town for under a week and have no clue as to who any of you are,” you paused, then pointed at Carol, “Except for her, she’s the annoying girl in my bio class. Other than that, I don’t even know who the fuck you are. You never even told me if your name is actually Steve,”

“Yes,” the boy nearly shouted in frustration, “My name is Steve!”

“Finally,” you smirked, “Some answers.”

“You’re not the ones asking questions here,” the other boy chimed in. You ignored him.

“Also, don’t flatter yourselves. You’re not important enough, or good looking enough for me to stalk. Especially you, human freckle, wipe that grin off your face.” You snapped at the chuckling boy.

“So that’s it then,” Steve asked, “You just took a couple of photos of us as photography classes?”

“Yea, that’s literally it.” You said as you uncrossed your arms and put them on your hips.

“What’s going on?” a small voice asked. You turned your head slowly and scanned the new arrival over. You weren’t sure what her name was, but you had seen her in a few of your classes yesterday, along with her red headed friend. This girl was much shorter than her best friend, with pretty, long wavy brown hair, but her face, though beautiful, was contorted with worry.

“The star of the show,” Carol greeted with her hands gesturing to the upcoming girl, “These creeps were spying on us.”

“Literally not spying.” You dismissed with a wave of your hand. You were ignored, however, as Steve squared up with Jonathan, fixated on the boy for some reason.

“He was probably gonna save this one for later,” Carol said as she handed the new girl a photo from the stack. Your face contorted in confusion at wat the insufferable girl could be talking about.

“Hey,” you yelled at Steve. “What did I tell you? Your issue is with me, leave Jon alone!”

“Oh shut up,” Steve snapped. “We know your covering for him.”

Steve rounded on Jonathan once more while you fumed silently, to angry to form a coherent sentence as you shook in place. Steve poked Jonathan in the chest, and Jonathan just shrank into himself, taking the abuse.

“I don’t know why you’re covering for him though, because, look at him, he knows he did wrong. But that’s the thing about perverts, it’s hardwired into them. They just can’t help themselves.”

Steve began to rip the photos up in front of you, not that it bothered you. You could always take new photos, of things you’d rather photograph anyway, however what bother you was the way he was talking to Jonathan.

“How can we help?” the boy with the freckles asked.

“We take away his toy,” Steve said.

“No!” You and Jonathan cried out simultaneously.

“No it’s not his fault, leave his camera alone! It was me, it was me!” you screamed, lunging forward to grab a hold of Steve as he grabbed Jonathans backpack from off of the boys shoulder, shoving him back a few steps for resisting. But the freckled boy grabbed a hold of you from behind and hugged you to his chest.

“Get the fuck off of me!” you screamed, thrashing around in the boys arms. You used the back of your head to head butt the boy, but he only grunted and held you tighter.

“Hey, its ok, it’s ok,” Steve told the boy, motioning for him to release you.

“Here you go man,” Steve said, holding out the camera for Jonathan to take. He lunged forward, but he wasn’t fast enough to catch it when Steve suddenly dropped it. It hit the cemented parking lot with a loud crack, causing you to flinch.

“Opps,” Steve said as he looked down at the camera.

Jonathan trembled as he bent down to gather up the broken pieces of his beloved possession, his lip quivered as the people surrounding you laughed, and the sight of your new friend, on the ground like that, threw you into a rage.

“What the FUCK dude?” you yelled, lunging forward to snatch Steve up. However, the boy behind you grabbed you again, only this time, you brought your foot up to connect with his groin. He let out a strangled cry as he went to cup his injury, but you gave him little time to do so, as you elbowed him in the nose sending him falling backwards on his butt.

“Come here you,” you roared, you stalked forward as caught Steve by the collar of his pretty boy shirt and drug him down to your height.

“Why the actual fuck would you do that?” you seethed, looking into the freighted eyes of the older boy. “I told you it was me you idiot, what is your vendetta against Johnathan?”

“He’s a creep,” Steve spat at you, “That’s my problem.”

“He is not a creep you egotistical piece of-” you words were cut off as someone grabbed two fistfuls of your flannel and threw you backwards. Your head hit the ground, but not hard enough to keep you down.

“Y/N!” you heard Jonathan cry, but you were already hauling yourself up off the ground, your E/C irises flashing dangerously as you swept your H/L locks from your face, the loose braid you had them in had come undone during your fight.

You laughed dangerously, “Come here you little bastard,” you snarled as you rounded on the freckled boy, you brought your fist up in the air, ready to deck the boy, when a strong voice boomed over the parking lot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean yelled as he stalked towards you. His fists were clenched at his sides, his jacket flapped in the wind as he made his way over to you with a grim face.

“What the hell is going on?” he demanded.

“Your sister is fucking crazy,” the freckled kid said, wiping some of the blood oozing from his nose off with his lower arm.

“Fuck you,” you growled.

“Y/N, it’s alright,” Jonathan said from behind you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You hadn’t noticed the boy creeping up behind you in an attempt to grab and sooth your anger.

“No,” you swallowed, “It’s not alright. They can’t just treat you like that,” you protested.

“It’s fine,” he muttered, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder, “I’m use to it.”

“But you shouldn’t be,” you whispered back.

“Y/N,” Dean boomed, “What happed?”

“What happened is your sister and her friend are fucking creeps,” the freckled boy said.

“Shut your cake hole, human freckle!” Dean rounded on the boy.

“Does bad name calling run in the family?” you heard the boy mutter.

“Y/N?” Dean asked again as he turned back to look at you.

You quickly ran through the situation, and Dean listened with his arms crossed over his chest. When one of Steve’s crew tried to throw in their version of the story, he would shut them up real quick. At the end of the story, Dean rounded on the crew and raised a finger to point at them.

“If I ever catch one of you putting your hands on my baby sister again, even looking at her the wrong way, I will put you in an early grave, do you understand that?”

All heads in the party were eager to nod.

“I don’t wanna hear another damn word on this situation, you were all idiots, we clear?”

You all nodded.

“Good, now you six, get out of my face.”

Dismissed, Steve and company began to walk off, save for the quite girl who walked over to you last, who stayed to gather the ripped photos on the ground, shoving them into her back pack hastily when Steve called for her.

“Y/N, you coming home?” Dean asked as he raised a single brow.

“Not right now,” you said, looking back at Jonathan, “I’m gonna hang out with Jon for a bit, if that’s cool with him?”

“Yea,” Jonathan muttered, “Of course.”

“Ok,” Dean nodded, “Call the house when you need to be picked up.”

“I’ll bring her home,” Jonathan muttered.

Dean gave him the once over before he nodded, deciding that he would allow it.

“Safely,” Dean commanded, giving Jon a stern look before he turned and stalked off toward the Impala.