you could kiss a hundred boys 𖹭
joyce byers x platonic!fem!reader
angst resolved to fluff(3.1k words) ao3 // masterlist
you come out to your mother, joyce byers, after a date gone wrong
TW's! homophobic language, internalized homophobia, light physical abuse, reader is joyce's daughter, highschooler lesbian reader in mind, coming out, caregiver joyce, light agere, lots of fluff at the end
based off anon request 🌺 and an idea @theupsidedownsprincess gave me!! a little short but hope you'll like the way it turned out !! <3
joyce loved her daughter. she loved her in ways she couldn't begin to understand. and she always had wanted a daughter, ever since she was little. if she were to have a kid, she wanted it to be a girl. and when she learned jonathan was going to have a twin, a little girl, she hanged onto her with hope.
so seeing that exact same daughter that she loved, that she raised with care for all these years cry on her bedroom floor is an unbearable sight.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
you knew that something was different with you, ever since you were a little girl. the inability to contain your love for your girl friends, always being awkward around boys in ways other girls weren't, or your disinterest about boys in general. all these things pointed to something, yes. but you refused to see the truth, choosing to look the other way everytime you had such thoughts about girls. they were wrong and you knew it.
so you kept on going, fooling yourself. thinking that it would make a difference if you went out with this other boy or let another one kiss you as your mind drifted off elsewhere.
that was how you had found yourself in another “date" tonight, with jake from your class. a date that had led you to cursing yourself all the way home and crying in your room by the end of the night.
you couldn't talk to your mother about it. yes, even "i would do anything for my kids” joyce byers had a limit to things she could and could not know, or understand. you couldn't talk to jonathan or will about it either. even though your brothers were supportive, they couldn't exactly be helpful in things that confused you in the first place. and nancy… well you couldn't talk especially to nancy. the same nancy wheeler that creates this havoc in your mind in the first place.
so you got the date, you hanged out with jake after school, met him under the bleachers and listened to him ramble about things that didn’t require or catch your attention. and after a point he leaned in, with his weird smelling deodorant and sweat, hanging off of his shirt. you didn't flinch but you didn't exactly enjoy it either. the sandy feeling of his lips against your mouth, insistent, forceful… you tried to think of other things, to calm yourself down. first thing that pops in your mind. nancy’s lips. nancy's lips? yeah. nancy had nice lips. and you knew she wouldn't push you like jake is right now. not try to grab the hem of your shirt or grope your breasts. she'd be gentle, careful. her slender fingers would be soft against your skin. and her lips, oh her lips.
jake was still kissing, pushing himself up. it was making you dizzy in the worst way possible and you wanted to spit out the taste of his tongue out of your memory. he didn’t seem to stop or slow down and you wanted off, you needed him off. his hands on your breasts start to trail lower and you can feel his tongue trying to force itself into your mouth again, for the millionth time and you can’t breathe. you can’t find a place to put your hands or rest your mind against.
so you push him off, sudden, intentional. you wipe your mouth, begging whatever lord is out there for the taste of his spit to stop lingering. you don’t even look at him, even his ragged, angry breathing is enough for you to grow an urge to puke.
but he isn’t the only angry one here, no. you are angry too. at yourself, yeah maybe. but at him, definitely. you can’t exactly locate why but your blood boils at the feeling of his hands against your body. and he speaks, uncalled for. his voice laced with rage, “i know what you are.” that’s all he says. five spiteful words directed at you and you can’t bring yourself to slap him or tell him that he’s lying. you try to keep your own anger on the surface but it dissipates slowly, leaving place reserved for shame.
“well maybe you’re just a shitty kisser jake.” you say and before you can turn around and leave you see his hand lift up in the air. everything goes blurry, lowering of an arm, the loud smack landing, your burning cheek, tearful eyes. your hand lifts up on its own to cover your face, the burning, low aching of your heart. you want to be mad at him, want to burn him alive and bury him at this exact spot. but he doesn’t shut the fuck up. “i know what you are.” he repeats himself, you want to laugh.
“a fucking dyke- fuck i tried to give you a chance [name]. but you are insufferable.” he throws his hands up in the air and you want to break them both. you look at him, through teary eyes. there is nothing left to say, not to him. all you do is pick up your bag, spit on his ugly face and turn around to leave.
you curse yourself all the way home. why did you come here? why did you let him use you like that? why did you not kick him in the teeth? why did you- why why why? but none of it mattered at the end. this wasn’t jake’s first time being like this. and he reminded you too much of a certain father of yours anyway (if you could call lonnie byers a father), you shouldn’t have trusted him.
none of it mattered cause it was your fault. at the end of the day, you were the one getting called a dyke, the one getting slapped, the one not speaking up. it didn’t matter because no one would understand.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
joyce has been standing in your hallway for 10 minutes now, begging for you to open the door. she has never seen you like this, this hurt. jonathan and will aren’t home yet so she just wants to talk before they arrive, mother and daughter.
you open the door, hesitant. she looks at you with a sad smile perching on her lips. you let your mother in and both of you sit down on your bed. the floral bed sheets cranking underneath as dim light shimmers from the bed bunk. joyce makes sure to keep her distance at first, let her daughter come to her but you prove to not bulge. whatever she says to urge you on, to open up you only respond with a dazed glance over the room and a sniff of your runny nose.
deep down you want her to pull you for a hug and wipe your tears. you need her holding you close but you’re too scared to admit. so you just nod your head when she asks “is this about one of the boys at school?” it isn’t fully about jake but that’s a starting point you think to yourself. “common baby, you can tell me everything. you know that right? i need you to know that.” she places a hand against your back and starts rubbing slow circles and somehow that’s all it takes.
the two of you haven’t had a conversation like this in forever and you can only feel the words coming out of your mouth now. not exact sentences, barely coherent ramblings but you manage to get it out. telling her all about jake and how he had slapped you. your mother gasps at that, a sound so loud coming out of her mouth. you look over to her, the rage glinting through the browns of her eyes but fail to notice the tears coating them. you don’t tell her what he said, how can you? adding only the part about how it wasn’t his first time treating you or another girl like this. you almost slip, almost tell her that he reminds you of a certain someone.
almost. but she doesn’t have to hear it. and you can see the expression that forms on her face, the one she has on days like her wedding anniversary. “why didn’t you tell anyone about him?” she asks without realizing how deep her words cut. like glass shreds, in your mouth, under your feet. you can’t stop the tears forming now, your throat closing on itself. you can’t blame her, not when she doesn’t know how you blame yourself for all of this. so you just wince and try to say, “how could i mom-” but joyce cuts through, her words angrier than before. “why didn’t you tell me-” you’re the one to interrupt her now, “because he’s right.”
joyce comes into a halt, her mouth forming a confused o-shape. you can see her anger slither off of her features but that doesn’t mean you’re going to soften on her now. “i’m not mad at you.” she huffs out, and shakes her head. “i’m mad at myself. and- look baby… i don’t know what has gotten into you but- nothing about what he did is right.” her words cut through you like ice now, your pounding heart in your chest. “no mom he’s right- he’s… right.” you sigh loudly. is it time? to tell her? you shake your head helplessly, tears fully gliding down your cheeks and your mother reaches out a hand to wipe them. you lean into her touch.
joyce is so confused now. “talk to me baby.” she says. you want to, you really really do. and you will try your best to explain. “the reason why-” your words parted, “why i don’t talk to you the way jonathan talks about his love interests is that i-” you sniff again, scratching your elbow nervously. “i don’t know who i am-” you look up at her eyes now. joyce is so attentive, her gaze never faltering. you try to keep going, “i mean i do but- i can never accept it and the way that boy said it i-” the words are lost on you but joyce holds your hand and nods.
you have a feeling she knows. she already knows and you don’t have to say anything. but your words flow out, carelessly out of your mouth.
“the thing is mom i really can’t stand boys. and before you say anything, no it’s not like an all boys are shitheads anyway sweetheart thing. it’s more like i like girls the way boys do- the way i shouldn’t-” you huff out a breath and bury your head in to your hands. joyce doesn’t touch you, not yet, just speaks “but honey that’s normal.” your head lifts up on its own, trying to argue but she doesn’t let you. “kiddo, listen to me now. nothing about love can be anormal, or evil. you love who you love and that’s your business only. no one can say otherwise. and if you feel like that- like you like girls, that’s fine with me.” she has tears in her eyes too. her hands hold onto your shoulders. “just know that i will always be here and will love you unconditionally…” your eyes never leave hers, a huge smile placed there, “well- maybe not when i’m old and grumpy and unable to feed you with my terrible cooking.” she is fully laughing now but all you can do is smile and jump into her arms with tears. you rest your cheek on her collarbone and close your eyes. she rocks the two of you back and forth while stroking you head. you take her scent in, letting your eyes go drowsy. “so much-” you mutter. “i love you so much mom… i love you and your terrible cooking. even when you’re old and grumpy.” you both giggle frantically and hug for a little more while.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
you and joyce are now drinking hot cocoa at the kitchen table. jonathan and will are watching some tv but you’re not interested. not when your mother is smiling at you from her seat with a hand that’s holding onto yours. the talk you had lingers in your mind, fuzzing all of your nerves, leaving a warm sensation behind.
jonathan didn’t get it. from the moment the two walked into the house, he failed to understand why you were acting so dumb-founded by everything your mother was telling you. it wasn’t like you to be this soft, gentle in general. you had an inkling will got it tho, in the way he kept smiling at you.
but it didn’t matter now. what mattered was that it was getting late, the clock nearing to your bedtime and you needed your mother close by, just for a little bit longer.
so you didn’t hold your tongue, “mom?” you looked at her. “do you remember our bedtime routine?” your voice was pleading, seeing the gleaming of joyce’s eyes. you didn’t have to spell it out. “bunny?” she asks. you blush at the name. “yeah, well i thought maybe after today you could- maybe help me go to sleep- i know i’m too old for it but-” you ramble but she silences them all with a finger on your lips. “you don’t have to ask silly. whatever you’re okay with, i would more than love to do so.” and with that she arises from her seat, leaving the empty mugs to lay there. calls out an “okay, bedtime kiddos!” and ushers your brothers to bed.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
you brush your teeth by the sink, standing next to your mother. smiling with your toothpaste filled mouth. “did you get it all clean baby?” she asks when you rinse it all up. you nod. “that’s my smart girl.” you feel better immediately.
then the two of you go to your room. joyce is already in her pj’s as she sits you on the bed. you whine a little as she hands you your own pyjamas. her head tilts with a lopsided smile. “you want me to do it for you, don’t you?” she asks and you nod, very much enthusiastically and raise your arms above your head. she chuckles and shakes her head as she helps you out of the shirt. “you get so silly sometimes, you know that right bunny?” she smooths out your undershirt before putting on your top. you giggle at her words, face heating up.
it’s to no surprise that your mother can soothe out your nerves but it takes you by a shock each time nonetheless. especially in the way she now kneels by the edge of the bed and helps you in your sleep pants. she puts through one of your feet and nudges the other “okay now the other one baby.” you lift your other leg and she has both of them in. “up up up.” she mutters, you get up, smiling. she finishes putting it on fully and sits on your bed. she pattes the spot next to her. you sit down happily, nudging yourself closer to her side.
“what do you want to do now sweetie?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. you lay your head on her lap wordlessly, nervous to look her in the eye. then you speak, “how about some bedtime stories- mixed with reassuring speech? you know the ones you give mom- the joyce byers speech- the whole you’re not alone in the world blah blah-” you gesture with your hands and she laughs loudly.
“okay first of all baby,” she pokes a finger at your head. “i don’t say blah blah…” then one at your back “and my speeches are way better than that.” and lastly your belly, causing you to start giggling. “yes mom! yes i know-” you say, out of breath through laughs. “that’s why i’m asking- please?” you look up at her with the best puppy eyes you have.
“oh how can i resist you when you look like that my tiny silly girl?” she boops the tip of your nose. you turn to face the wall once again with a huge smile, resting your hands underneath your head on joyce’s lap. she begins to tell a story, one that she had told you ever since you were a little kid. hearing the story, especially through your mother’s voice after all these years is enough to bring tears to your eyes. it was like coming home, true home, after a long day and rediscovering every tiny detail about the furniture. like finally resting after years of battle and scars endured alone. it wasn’t much, the peace and the familiarity of it all. but it brought comfort, something you’ve been reaching so far away for when it was just there. right here in the story your mother told you, with her hand tangled in your hair, her soft voice ringing in your ears.
“and after that day, the brave little girl realized that she wasn’t the only one here down on this earth, that she had her family and friends to trust.” joyce finishes the story, drawing circles on your back now. your eyes are closed but she knew you are awake still. barely hanging off of the edge of sleep. “and you know it’s true baby. you’re not alone. and i love you so much. nothing can change that.” her words glide over your body like a warm breeze, trailing up your spine and landing on the top of your head. “thank you for telling me baby. thank you for trusting me. you’re safe here, with me. and your brothers. and i will be there for you as much as i can, as much as you’ll let me.” you let her words wash over, can feel the drowsiness surrounding you, yawning out loud.
“go to sleep now pretty girl.” you hear your mother’s voice through the haze of your mind. “let sleep come to you. you’re safe. you can let go. it’s okay. i love you so much. so much.” her words are so soft and so measured that you can’t help it. just as you’re about to drift off you murmur, “i love you too mom.” you feel more than see the tear in joyce’s eyes at your words, one tear dropping down her face and onto your cheek. she kisses the exact same spot and whispers against your skin, “sleep now angel.” and you do, how could you not?
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
thank you for reading! wrote this very sleep deprived so hope it's coherent enough
masterlist! // ao3 link











