STRANGER THINGS IMAGINES

-First Gift-

Thanks Fandom_Feelz for the inspo.

"Now, the Russians played a crucial role in the ending of the second World War, through their use of ingenious methods of mass destruction. But, can anyone tell me what was one of the weapons used by the Russians in the war?" Mrs Earl stood at the front of the class, bulky glasses pressed to the edge of her nose and face scrunched with a look of distaste.

The question about the war had left her 11th grade history class fumbling for answers, hands going up only to be shot down by a harsh voice of rejection. You slumped in your chair, flicking your pen between fingers and lazily watching the clock tick by, edging oh so closer to the start of lunch time. The woman huffed, adjusting her glasses before starting to pace through the rows of desks.

"While you all think this is unimportant information, your finals are coming up and you never know what could be on them. And by the state of the latest test you students have done, I wouldn't be surprised if I was to fail all of you." She went on to continue, but instead the bell went, a shrill ringing filling the classroom.

Chair feet scraped against dirty lino, chatter erupting as lunch time started, people pushing past each other to get out the door first. You stood up, stretching gently and sliding your materials into your bag, pushing a strand of hair from your face and swinging the strap over your shoulder. You walked out the door, joining the hundreds of teens that milled around the hall, lockers slamming shuts, footballs being thrown around, girls huddled in their groups gossiping over the latest boy in town, books falling to the ground as they were pushed out of peoples arms.

A hand slipped into yours, grabbing your attention and pulling you into an empty classroom, the door closing behind you and the quiet filling your thoughts. You smiled lightly at the boy who stood in front of you, moving to sit up on one of the benches at the side of the room. He came closer, standing in between your legs, bag bumping your knee and head leaning down to look at you.

For a moment you just grinned at him, before your hand was on his neck and you were gently pulling him closer, pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss. He smiled into the kiss, feeling at home with your lips on his, his hands coming up to cup your face and fingers brushing against your cheek lightly. You pulled away when you needed to breathe, tucking hair behind your ear and looking back up at him.

"How was history?" You shook your head a bit, letting out a sigh and leaning back on the desk, hands holding up your weight.

"Earl was on a rampage again, threatening to fail us just because we couldn't give her an answer to a question. So just, normal boring history." Jonathan let out a smile, shoving a hand into his pocket, fiddling with a small rectangle box that sat inside his jacket. "What about you? How was English?"

"Pretty good actually, got a substitute since Carter was away. Tried to make us do silent reading but no one really listened." You nodded along to what he was saying, fiddling with your fingers as you looked up at him. "I haven't seen you for days, is everything alright?" He asked the question quietly, not wanting to step on boundaries that weren't really there even though the two of you had been dating for more than a year.

You stop fiddling with your hands, blinking for a moment before looking down. Jonathan notices your current mood shift, moving so that he's looking directly at you, your hands in his and a concerned smile covering his face.

"Yeah, everything's alright. Just wasn't feeling well." He instantly knew what you meant, and left the conversation at that, instead leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You let out a breath, before gently pulling him closer by his jacket and deepening the kiss. He pulled away after the kiss, hands on your thighs.

"I guess we should go get some lunch." He shook his head in response to you, halting your actions of picking up your bag. You looked at him in confusion as he slid a hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small package. It was wrapped in old brown newspaper, kept together with a worn piece of black string. He held it in his hands for a moment, a look of nervousness covering his face. Finger tapping your thigh, he passed it into your hands without a word.

"I know sometimes I can't be there for when you have your bad days, so I made you something to remind you that I'm always wanting to know you are alright. I know it's not much, but I hope it's okay." You smoothed a finger against the string, the thread soft against your skin. You pulled it gently, letting it fall from the package to your lap, before you slowly tear through the newspaper wrapping. Inside is a tape, with a black and white photo stuck to the outside. It was a picture from his birthday, one taken by Nancy with Jonathan gazed at you while you were tucked under the crook of his arm.

"I remember this day." The words came out in a whisper, as your fingers touched the photograph lightly. Jonathan scratched his neck lightly as he hovered down to see your face. "It was the day you told me you loved me for the first time." He let a smile crack as you looked up at him, a blush covering your features. You flipped over the tape, noticing the black marker words printed on the outside. "The Bad Days." You let a little smile show, looking up at Jonathan.

"You made me a mixtape?"

"I thought it could do you some good, you could listen to it when you're having a bad day. It's music that I know you like, and some stuff that reminds me of us." You swallowed the lump in your throat, eyes growing wet as you kept looking st the tape.

"Jonathan, I don't know-" He cut you off, a hand over yours.

"It's no big deal, I mean it didn't take that long and it was pretty easy to do. I thought it just might cheer you up." He scratched the back of his neck, looking down slightly. But soon you were pulling him closer, legs wrapping around him and hands tugging him closer by the collar. You pressed your lips to his, a kiss that was full of passion and want and love.  Soon his hands were clinging to you, smiling into the kiss and not wanting to let go.

You pulled away, taking a deep breath before shoving the tape in your bag, taking Jonathan's hand and gently dropping from the table. He looked at you, confused for a moment.

"Thank you for the mixtape, honestly. Now, how about we go get some lunch?" And with that you were pulling him out of the room as he ducked down to kiss you again, a grin on his face and hand in yours.

That mixtape because one of many, for anytime you felt down, or any special occasion rolled around, Jonathan would always know the perfect music. And that's a reason you loved him.

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