#Will Byers x Y/n
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HI:D can I request a Will Byers (Season 4?) Like they just came back from Cali to Hawkins and he saw how much change one of his best friend's (the male reader) went through, like taller and deeper voice and stuff. And basically just all fluff cause my boy Will deserves love 😔 thaaanks<3
Will Byers/Tall!Male!Reader
UGH I LOVE THIS SO MUCH
I guess since we knew Will that we're part of the party so I just did that
Will does deserve all the fluff I agree heavily
I did basically the entire scene of the time where the pizza van comes to the Wheelers (sorry if it's a different house it's been a second since I've watch season 4)
And okay I didn't remember the exact dialogue and like hell I'm searching up the entire script, so ur gonna have to deal with noncanon dialogue
I'm actually really proud of this sooo happy days yes yes?
OKAY THANK YOU THIS IS SUCH A GOOD PROMPT UR AMAZING
Summary: Look above my little silly notes
Your eyes drooped slightly as the boxes seemed to pile up in front of you. You were beginning to get tired of boxes. Literally.
Steve tried to talk to you a few times, but you didn't really answer with enough worthwhile effort to keep him interested.
You felt a light tap on your shoulder. "Hey, Y/N, are you okay?" You turned around to see Dustin talking to you for what seemed like the millionth time. "You seem a little off."
"I'm just stressed and getting kind of annoyed that no one can see or understand that." You grunted, lifting a particularly heavy box in your arms.
He got a defeated look on his face as he was probably asked to do this by some other idiot trying to snoop, but you brushed it off with a shake of your head.
You wondered who would actually be okay about something like this. You got told Max was in a coma, Eddie's probably dead as well. It seemed stupid to you that everyone was acting like nothing happened.
Karen Wheeler looked over your shoulder and said something nobody was expecting. "Did someone order a pizza?"
Eyebrows were raised and furrowed as people looked back from their boxes. What looked like a pizza van was ripping down the street at a fast pace.
It came to skirting stop, and one of the doors flew open. You were more confused then you liked to admit; did anyone order a pizza?
Your eyes widened from their previously sleepy state whenever you saw Eleven, Will, Jonathan, a random guy you didn't know, and Mike step out of the side door.
The gaze that was originally fixed on the guy you didn't know switched immediately to Will. He's been your best friend for years, and you had missed him very much.
He met your awed stare with a giant, warm grin. A grin that you had longed for ever since he left a year ago. Phonecalls weren't enough to satisfy you.
"Will!" You called out, a smile matching his present on your face.
"Y/N!" He sounded relieved, but his eyes were red and a little puffy.
Will pulled you into a tight hug whenever he got close enough. You felt sparks light up in your stomach, and it felt like they were going to leak over into your mouth and out.
He was warm. It felt like being wrapped in safeness itself.
You had met Will around two years old; your two mother's were good friends throughout highschool and adulthood.
He soon introduced Mike to you, and everyone got along well. Lucas and Dustin came along later. Everything was good for a while.
Will looked up at you, seemingly in surprise. His eyebrows were up high, and his mouth was open wide.
"How did you get so tall in just a year?" He asked with shock.
As if your eyes were deceiving you before you realized that Will was quite a bit shorter than you now. He smiled up at you happily.
"I guess I didn't notice." You mumbled.
He giggled and it made your heart race a little faster. "Your voice is deeper too!"
You smiled widely at him, digging your head down into the crook of his neck. "Damn, I've missed you so much, Will."
"I've missed you too."
You hugged for a while longer before pulling away. He offered to help you with your boxes, and you gladly accepted the help, momentarily forgetting the peril you all were in.
#stranger things#stranger things will#will byers#will byers x male reader#will byers x reader#will byers x y/n#will byers x you
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6/10
requested by anonymous: IRIS ''do you wanna make out?'' Will Byers “I don’t want you to be disappointed.” Male reader The readers all nervous and insecure especially with Will being so forward and not knowing what he’s doing to him (making him all flustered), Will helps him out. (Will kinda acts like and makes the reader flustered like he did in the nightmare themed Drabble)
word count: 400
author's note: thank you so much for this request! i tried to incorporate as much of it as i could. i haven't written much for the 1k celebration event i myself am hosting LOL but with this i'm going to start doing more!
pairings: will byers x male!reader
"Do you wanna make out?"
You jump a little at the blunt question, still not used to how forward Will can be sometimes, when he really lets his guard down around someone. It's a recent discovery, something you only learned after approximately three dates with him. You're over at his house, leafing through an old comic book as he sits next to you on the bed, sketching. The deft, clever strokes of his pen on paper had captured your attention a long time ago, but you didn’t think he had noticed.
Laughing a little nervously, you respond truthfully, “I don’t know, I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“Why would I be?” Will wonders out loud, carefully capping his pen before setting both it and the sketchbook aside.
“It’s just-” you start, words flowing out of your mouth before they even register in your brain, “I’ve never made out with someone before, I kind of don’t know how it works? It just seems so complicated to me. How much tongue am I supposed to use? When am I supposed to use it? And how? And what if I’m bad at it, what if-”
“You’ll get better,” Will interrupts you, making you flush as you notice his sudden proximity to you, the hand he raises to caress your cheek, the artistic, lithe fingers of his other that trace their way across the back of your neck into your hair, “I can help you practise.”
You only have two seconds to prepare yourself, gasping a quick breath of air before Will steals it from you, kissing you delicately, devastatingly slow. Your body curls closer to his instinctively, hands grasping for purchase in what they can find, be it his thigh, elbow, or shirt. Your mind is filled with nothing but a pleasant hum, warmth expanding in your chest as Will pulls you even closer to him, tangling your legs. All your worries dissipate as Will parts your mouth easily, exploring it confidently while his hand strokes your cheekbone soothingly, his lips pillowy and hot against yours.
Will finally lets you breathe, releasing you from the kiss, but not letting you move too far, eyes scrutinising yet fond as he takes in your swollen lips and mussed hair.
“6/10,” is what he finally says, trying to keep a straight face, “You’re right, you’re pretty bad at it. You need a lot more practice.”
“Why, you little-!” you explode, tackling him onto his back, your angry insults cut short by his peals of laughter, but you can’t find it in yourself to be upset. Not even a little bit.
#pariahsirises#will byers x reader#will byers x male!reader#will byers x male reader#will byers x you#will byers x y/n#will byers imagine#will byers fluff#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#will byers fanfiction#will byers fanfic#will byers ff#will byers oneshot#will byers#will byers fic#will byers x you fluff#will byers angst#pariahs1k#pariahsparadise#stranger things imagine#stranger things 4#st4
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◌ೆ୧ ͢YOUR MAIL HAS BEEN DELIEVERED ♡
𓈒⠀⠀⁺⠀𝜗 crucifiedkiss ╱ w. byers x gn! reader 𝜚
ꨄ︎ hcs dating will ⏤ ﹙i wanna be yours﹚ 🪽 ˖ ׁ
ಲ ͏ㅤ ׅㅤㅤcw: wills season not specified (?), fluff, mentions of s1 events, kissing ('kiss attack'), and i think thats all ??ㅤ✿𝅼
( 。>﹏<) "first stuff written pls enjoy !!!" ⏤ c.k. と
𝜗୧ ּ݂⠀💌 dating will byers would include ﹗
⏤ playing d&d with him, even after all these years and after all his friends have 'grown out of playing d&d'. u can never grow out of fun !!! if u dont know how to play d&d, he would be rlly patient with trying to teach u ! he doesnt want to be mean or anything (unlike some ppl ...) ! pls listen to him yap about d&d he will literally love u even more !! certified yapperton i swear (/pos !! he is silly !!)
⏤ trying to help him overcome his crush on mike. he slowly falls out of liking him the longer he is in a relationship with u, but he will never forget liking mike just as much as he does you right now. could u blame him, rlly? still stays friends with mike – he couldnt just leave him like that :( !!
⏤ expecting him to be rlly hesitant at the beginning of the relationship. he isnt rlly meaning to be like that, but hes just a lil nervous. after a few weeks i would say, he'll be that normal cheery lil guy :3 he is rlly sweet i swear he just doesnt have any idea what to do in a relationship, seeing how many found him weird (which makes me sob lowk !!). cant blame the lil man☹
⏤ a bunch of compliments !!! whether it is towards will himself or to u, he loves them sm ^^ being called zombie boy when younger rlly impacted how he views himself at times, confidence of course dropping ! any and all compliments r absolutely amazing honestly :) !! say his face is shaped nice, say his clothing style is cool, say his hair is especially bowl-cuttish (/j), say his moles/beauty marks r cute – ANYTHING !!! 😭 responds with a cheeky smile and returning the compliment (but in a more playful way cause compliments just make him happy immediately :3)
⏤ play fighting at the most random times !! i like to think he is kinda childish, wanting to escape whats all happened, so he ends up being rlly silly and goofy !! when done with play fighting, u two out of breath, u both just break into a fit of laughter that leaves u both dying for air once more. he misses the feeling of being young again, before he got kidnapped and all that disgusting stuff, so just doing all this dumb stuff with u rlly blossoms smth in him that just gives him so much joy ^_^
⏤ random kiss attacks to express love :) just smothering eachothers faces in big smooches is such a nice way to show love according to him, to which he isnt wrong !! happy giggles leave him when u do it, and vice versa !! playfully tries pushing u away, knowing that he realistically doesnt want u to stop, and why would he ?? he needs that affection !!!
⏤ gift giving !! will is the type of guy to say "this reminded me of u" and its literally like, a chip or smth. i think he personally collects rocks, so he gives u the rlly rlly pretty ones !! gives u the sparkly ones especially ^_^ !! loves giving rlly anything tho :3 stickers, card games/cards, etc. !! if he can show someone affection, he will show someone affection ❗❗ the gifts either consist of his favorite color or urs .. or both !!
⏤ u protecting will and will protecting u ^_^ usually u protecting will as a few still bully him, but its ok !! he doesnt even listen to what the person may be saying when he sees u standing up for him ! its such a sweet thing and he cant even bite back that loving smile :) when someone is talking bad about u, he talks BACK !!! have u seen how sassy that man is ?? WOULD win the argument !!! ugh !! he is eating !!
⏤ him drawing/painting u !!! :) u want it detailed ? ok !! cartoony ? sure !! learns how to do any artstyle u like and draws u in it !! on many occasions the art takes a while as its a style he is unfamiliar with, but hes trying his best !! tell him his art is rlly good pls he will go to sleep possibly the happiest man (can u tell he is rlly passionate about his art ...) :3 literally loves making art for u !! once more: gift giving !!!
⏤ him CHERISHING any beauty marks u have !!! since he has moles himself, i think he would just love urs just as much :) if u have any, he is absolutely loving them. hes drawing on them with his fingers (and sometimes markers) ... anything !! (extra: if u have tattoos, absolutely colors them in if not already – calls u a coloring book :3)
#🐾 ‹ writing﹢crucifiedkiss ꒱#(≧∇≦)#crucifiedkiss ♡#⭐˖ ・ ·̩ 。 ☆ ゚ * 🌸 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ㅤ ララ月太陽ㅤㅤ꒰ 🍮 ꒱ ⠀⠀⠀⠀イ. ₊ ˚ ׅ ㅤ🥐 。˚ ◟⭐️🎀🌈⭐˖ ・ ·̩ 。 ☆ ゚ *(≧▽≦)⭐️🚎🌈#stranger things season 4#stranger things s3#stranger things s4#stranger things x reader#stranger things#st s3#st s4#s3 st#s4 st#will byers x reader#will byers x y/n#will byers x you#will byers#william byers#headcanons#william byers x reader#stranger things headcanons#stranger things headcannons#headcannons#headcanon#stranger things x you#stranger things x y/n#stranger things will byers#stranger things will#st william byers#st will byers
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Yandere Byler x Y/n Headcanons
Byler x Y/n
Requested by: Anonymous!
Same old Yandere, but I think I can do it.
Mike and Will were on a neighborhood walk until they saw you.
They looked at each other and then back at you, and the rest was history... Until they found out you were getting hella creeped out by them.
Mike and Will didn't understand. A poly relationship would be great! But you weren't into them. You felt grossed out by their advances.
They both said they wanna stick their dicks in you and cum at the same time, to have twins that looked like both Mike and Will.
You felt like puking.
Mike and Will absolutely adore you. You're a precious gem in their eyes and nothing would take them away from you. NOTHING.
They've killed lots of people who wouldn't move out of the way so the two could see you. Goddamn it, they don't want anyone but you!
It's not that you don't like poly relationships or gay people, it's just how forceful Mike and Will are and how it scares you and freaks you the fuck out and how you wanna get away.
But let's be honest, from that first look, your fate was already sealed...
#finn wolfhard#finn wolfhard x reader#finn wolfhard x y/n#finn wolfhard x you#mike wheeler#mike wheeler x y/n#stranger things#mike wheeler x reader#mike wheeler x you#finn wolfhard imagines#noah schnapp#byler headcanon#gay mike wheeler#will byers x y/n#will byers x reader#will byers#noah schnapp x you
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with you - (w.b.)
gif is not mine!
author's note: this is my first fic, I hope it's not too bad. this takes place right after mike and will's little fight.
paring: (s3) will byers x male reader (i'm praying this timeline is okay)
warnings: nothing really, i hope fluff won't harm you.
word count: 528 im sorry its so short
Y/n means your name :)
--------------
"it's not my fault you don't like girls!"
that short sentence struck me harder than anything else could.
i just wanted to spend time with my friends. i just wanted to play dnd with them. but all my friends were kinda busy. busy with their girlfriends. all the time. even if they weren't with their girlfriends, they seemed like they didn't really want to do anything with me. as if my likings appeared childish to them.
take this, for example.
mike wheeler was one of my close friends. but ever since he got a girlfriend (which i have nothing against, she's a nice person), he stopped spending time with me.
but never my best friend y/n never did that to me.
y/n never turned down the offer to play dnd, and he always came to see me. y/n always saved me a seat whenever we went to the movies. when i was with him, i never felt left out. he made me feel loved and wanted.
so instead of going back to my own house, i found myself at his doorstep.
i knocked on the door.
"will, what are you doing without a coat, or an umbrella? you're soaked!" he exclaimed and grabbed my arm to take me inside.
"i wanted to see you" i told him.
"is it that bad that you forgot to wear a coat? was it bad enough that you couldn't wait until the rain stopped? what happened?" he asked me.
"mike, we got into a fight.." i repsonded
"you can tell me after you change your clothes, you're gonna get sick" gosh, he sounded like a mom. "change into what? i didn't bring extra clothes." i asked.
"you can change into my clothes, its all good." i thanked him, and went to his bedroom to get a pair of sweatpants and one of his t shirts.
i went back downstairs and sat next to y/n on the couch.
"i'm listening, you can tell me what happened"
"so basically, i kinda told mike that he was always with eleven more than he was with me. then he just said something"
"what did he say?"
"..."
"i won't judge you, will. you know that."
"i- he said it wasn't his fault that i didn't like girls.."
"oh.."
i was scared. the blood was rushing to my cheeks, and my heart was beating fast. did he know?
"so you like boys?"
"yeah.. i do.. i'm sorry y/n." tears were threatening to spill out of my eyes, i was getting ready for a harsh response.
but instead he said"sorry for what, will? there's nothing to be sorry for. because i'm not sorry"
i looked at him. was it true? or was he just playing with me? he pulled me into a hug, and whispered so faintly, that i almost couldn't hear it.
"i love you will."
"i love you too, y/n"
we both were crying. crying with joy, and crying just with the thoughts of what could have happened if other people found out.
"you make me feel safe. i always know i'm safe when i'm with you." i whispered to him.
--------------
and that folks, is the end of my first written fic.
tbh i always had this in my head and i just couldnt get it out until i wrote it. anyways love y'all !
#x male reader#stranger things#will byers#will byers x male!reader#will byers x reader#stranger things x male reader#stranger things x reader#will byers x you#will byers x y/n#will byers imagine#will byers oneshot#will byers fluff#will byers angst#will byers fanfiction#will byers ff#will byers fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#st4#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#mike wheeler#stranger things season 4#will byers x you imagine
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healing
billy hargrove x gn!reader
word count: 5,445
warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??
a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333
————
November 1985
“No.”
“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”
Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.
“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.
She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”
The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”
Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.
“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”
Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.
“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”
Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.
It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.
You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.
Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.
But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.
There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.
Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.
You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”
He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.
When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”
He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.
“Hey. Glad your test is over?”
That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”
You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.
“You have work today?”
Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.
Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.
“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”
You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”
The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.
“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.
The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.
“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.
“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.
“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.
Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.
Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.
“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”
“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”
Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.
Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.
He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.
You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.
He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.
When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.
Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.
He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.
“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.
He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.
“Besides what?”
You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.
Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.
“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.
“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.
“You know what.”
“I want you to go.”
“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”
————
The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.
Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.
She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.
Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”
You and Billy.
You and Billy Hargrove.
Sharing a room.
Sharing a bed.
Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.
“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.
“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”
That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”
You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?
Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?
“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”
He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”
He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.
“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”
You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.
“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”
You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.
“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.
You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”
Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.
“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”
You nod your head, and try to move back from him.
Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”
You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”
Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.
“Really?”
He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.
“Yeah, baby.”
Baby.
It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.
And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.
“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”
“Mhm. Thought so.”
This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.
“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.
When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.
You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.
You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.
Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.
“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”
“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.
————
Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.
“Right hand blue.”
“You’re kidding right?”
“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”
Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.
“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”
“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.
He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.
Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.
He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”
“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”
“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.
“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”
You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.
“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.
You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”
His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”
Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.
The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.
It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.
————
You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.
You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.
He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.
When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.
You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.
He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.
“C’mere then.”
You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”
“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”
“Billy.”
“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.
Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.
He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”
“Yeah.”
Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”
“Yes.”
He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.
Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.
He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.
“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”
You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.
“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.
“You’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”
He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.
It’s just me.
“Do they hurt at all?”
Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.
“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”
You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.
He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.
“Goodnight, Billy.”
He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.
“Goodnight, baby.”
————
When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.
Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.
You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.
Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.
Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.
You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.
“Sleep okay?” she asks.
“Mhm. You?”
“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”
You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.
“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”
You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”
“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”
You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”
“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.
“Oh my god.”
“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”
“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”
“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.
“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”
Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”
He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.
“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”
————
Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.
It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.
It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.
You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.
“Whatcha doin’?”
Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.
“That sounds nice.”
“Mhm.”
“I can go back inside, if you want.”
Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.
“Okay.”
He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.
“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”
“I understand, Billy.”
You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.
“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.
“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”
He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.
Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.
When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.
He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.
“You motherfucker!”
You get him back, and he’s laughing.
Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.
You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.
“Billy!”
“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.
You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.
When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.
“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.
“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”
You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.
He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.
He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.
Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.
It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.
When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.
Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.
“I’m in love with you, you know.”
“I know,” you respond.
He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.
“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”
“Damn right you are.”
You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.
“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.
“So much for that,” Billy says.
But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
————
“I’m regretting this, Billy.”
“Stop whining.”
Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.
“Get off.”
“No.”
“Get off, please.”
“Make me.”
There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.
He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”
And you’d do it again.
“Didn’t work, did it?”
“No. Shut up and take it.”
By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.
You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.
He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.
He’s never had this before.
Hell, you’ve never had this before.
And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.
You’re healing him. You.
————
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
#savannah’s fics#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x gn!reader#billy hargrove x gender neutral reader#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove comfort#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#max mayfield#steve harrington#robin buckley#lucas sinclair#dustin henderson#will byers#billy stranger things fic#billy stranger things#bookshelf-dust’s 1k celebration
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Polaroid Evidence pt.1 - Eddie Munson
Summary: Your brother Jonathan doesn't approve of your boyfriend even when he's always over, but your mom and younger brother love him. 0.8k wc Read pt.2 -> Here!
The first thing Joyce said when you admitted to dating Eddie was "Bring him around for dinner!" While Jonathan sulked quietly in the corner, definitely not expecting this reaction from your mum after having blackmailed you into telling her.
He'd been in the car with Will after school waiting for you to finish working on your english project when he got bored, eyes distractedly trailing to your bag sat in the passenger seat, completely zoned out of the story Will was recalling. Deciding to do what an older brother does, he dragged the bag over the controls and into his laps, snooping around for something good. Something secret. "Jonathan? What are you doing?" Noted Will, well aware of his sister's violated privacy. Fortunately, Jonathan found something better than a secret. He found evidence.
When his fingers grazed the familiar plastic of a polaroid image, he immediately pulled it out to see what it was, hiding it away from the sun's reflection in his palm. His eyes widened at the sight: Your arms wrapped around Eddie's neck, pulling him into a deep kiss, and Eddie's hands definitely too close to your ass, pressing your hips against his tightly. The date was marked in black sharpie underneath as '14.09.1986'. Last Friday.
"Is that Eddie Munson?" Jonathan felt Will's eyes widen from behind him, now gripping the car seat in front of him to help pull himself forward, observing the image in his brother's hands. "Y/N's dating him? Cool!" Jonathan grunted, tearing the photo out of Will's ray of vision. "No Will, not cool." Just as Will opened his mouth to ask why, the passenger's door slammed open, your voice filling up the small space almost immediately. "Hey... Jonathan." Will pushed himself back to sit flat against the car seat, preparing himself for another loud argument.
"What is that?" You seethed, lunging forward to snatch the photo out of Jonathan's hand, which he stuck out the window, away from your reach. "Why are you going through my things, you fucking asshole!" You yelled, grabbing your bag from your older brother's laps. "I told you I don't want you around him." He replied calmly, turning on the car's ignition. Since he was driving, he was safe from any more of your attacks. "What difference does that make? You think I'm gonna stop seeing someone because you don't like him?"
The hum that came out of Jonathan almost had you disregarding everyone in the car's safety, but you stayed put, taking a deep breath. "Well you know what? Will loves him." Jonathan scoffed, taking the polaroid out of his pocket. "Will doesn't know him. He just thinks he's cool." Turning the wheel, Jonathan pulled into the drive way, finally removing the key from the car, cutting its engine. "Well since you think he's the best person you could be dating and that your judgement is so great, how come mum doesn't know?" You tried for the printed image again, but gasped as the seatbelt locked you into place, pulling you back into the leather seat.
"You tell mum," he started, turning the picture in his hands with a wicked smirk. "Or I will." You groaned loudly, gathering your things before slamming the car door behind you as you exited, your younger brother following you instantly. "Y/N?" "I'm sorry you had to see that Will, but some times Jonathan just makes me want to rip my hair out." You stated, turning to face him.
"Why don't you want mum to know that you're with Eddie? And can I meet him?" You laughed at the end of his sentence, crouching down to meet his height. "Well I care a lot about mum's opinions, and if she doesn't like Eddie, it'll completely change my relationship with him. So I'm kind of scared to tell her about him because she only hears things about him. Things that might not be true." Will nodded seriously at your words, a grin immediately forming on his face when you added "And of course you can meet him."
When you trudged into the living room, Jonathan was being coddled by Joyce, the polaroid threateningly sticking out of his back pocket. You stealthily walked by him, trying to slip the image out of his pocket, but apparently you'd been too loud, and the older boy turned to face you just in time. "Hey mum." You greeted, accepting the hug she gave you, mentally preparing yourself to tell her about your scary boyfriend.
To your surprise, her first words had been "Eddie Munson? Well bring him around for dinner." When Jonathan's eyes shot wide open, exclaiming "What!?", she added "Anyone good enough for my daughter is good enough for me. I'd love to meet him." Your shoulders dropped in relief and you sighed in relief. However when Jonathan added "Well let's invite Hopper for dinner too then! He's pretty much part of the family." It was your turn for your eyes to widen as your mum agreed, the knowledge of your drug dealing boyfriend around the chief of police at Hawkins sending a chill down your spine.
#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson stranger things#eddie x fem!reader#eddie x you#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#jonathan byers#jonathan byers x reader#jonathan byers fanfic#byers#will byers#joyce byers#byers family#stranger things#stranger things fics#stranger things x reader#rainydayathogwarts
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HAPPY STRANGER THINGS DAY NERDS‼️ its been 41 years since will byers went missing
#liyliths updates#stranger things day#steve harrington x reader#stranger things#steve harrington#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#jonathan byers#nancy wheeler#jim hopper#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington angst
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Moving - Billy Hargrove
Billy x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Stranger Things
Word count:1,190
Summary: Joyce waiting to move you, Jonathan, Will and El till Billy’s better for your sake. Billy decides to come with and live with you in California. But first he has to ask Joyce.
Authors Note: I love this.
Masterlist
Stranger Things Masterlist
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
“When are we going to Calfironia?” Jonathan asked his mom wondering how much more time they had left with their friends.
“Soon.” Joyce answered as they continued to eat.
“When is soon? I want to know when I have to say goodbye to the party?” Will pleaded for more of an exact answer.
“We aren’t going till Billy’s better and can leave the hospital.” Joyce told her boys.
“For Y/n’s sake?” Jonathan hoped they wouldn’t leave till Billy was better. For his sister's emotional health most of all. She wouldn’t be able to handle leaving Billy in his current state. The Mall accident was bad all around but Billy got the worst of it, but at least he was alive.
“Yes. For Y/n’s sake. Your sister loves Billy and I’ve seen his love for her.” Joyce nodded in confirmation. What happened to Billy affected him and her daughter the most. Joyce knows for a fact they love each other and seeing him almost die killed Y/n. She couldn’t take her away with Billy still in the hospital.
“I hope he heals fast. I hate seeing her so distraught.” Will nodded in agreement, it was hard seeing his badass sister so broken.
“We all do.” Jonathan reached over and squeezed his shoulder. Billy had treated a lot of them horribly but no one deserved what he did to save El.
^ ^ ^
“Hey” Y/n greeted Billy as she entered his hospital room. She never would’ve left but she wasn’t allowed to stay once visiting hours were over. So Y/n comes back every morning.
“Hey. Did you eat?” Billy questions, he noticed she had gotten thinner and it worried him.
“Yes, I ate.” she nodded, giving him a sarcastic smile, knowing he means well. Y/n to noticed her weight loss like she’s sure he did. But she was still eating, it must be stress.
“Just making sure you're still taking care of yourself.” Billy reached out to grab her hand in his.
“Your my priority right now.” Y/n looked into his eyes, squeezing his hand.
“I can’t be your priority if you end up sick and in the hospital right next to me.” Billy points out with a stern look in his eyes even though he wasn’t angry he’s just worried.
“What’d the doctor say?” Y/n asked changing the subject and hoping the doctor said he’s improving.
“That I can leave and be discharged in two days.” Billy smiled at her pulling her with enough force that she leaned on top of him.
“Thank god.” Y/n smiled, hugging him tightly.
^ ^ ^
“When are you moving?” Billy asked as they sat on her bed in Y/n’s room surrounded by boxes.
“Soon.” Y/n looked down, sadness evident in her demeanor. Leaving Hawkins wasn’t the hard part that made her sad, but leaving Billy? That did. “Mom says we’ll leave in the next couple days.”
The two stayed silent for a while not knowing what to say.
“Hey I’m gonna get a drink. Do you want anything?” After a while Billy spoke up having an idea but he needed to leave the room and if it didn’t go as planned he didn’t want Y/n any more hurt than she already was.
“A coke please.” y/n gives him a tight smile in thanks but still in a sad mood.
Billy walked down the hall into the kitchen and saw Misses Byers just who he was looking for.
“Hi Billy.” Joyce greeted upon seeing him come out of the hallway.
“Hey Joyce.” Billy greeted back as he went to the fridge and grabbed himself and Y/n;s drinks before closing the fridge, turning around and asking. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure.” Joyce nodds pointing to the table so they both could sit.
“Thanks for staying till I was healed. It means everything to me to have had y/n here for it.” Billy started off by thanking her, he knew they didn’t have to wait but they did and he appreciated it.
“Of course, Billy.” Joyce sent him a smile, it also felt kinda good and odd to hear him thank you. That's not something Billy’s known for. She also knew how hard it must be for him to talk to her like this. With his home life she knows he’s not comfortable around most adult’s.
“I know you’re all moving to California soon. I’m from there and I’ve missed it since the moment I was forced to leave. I don’t want to be seperated from Y/n.” Y/n was the only thing he liked about his time in Hawkins. He was glad in a way he had moved to Hawkins, he met y/n because of it and he wouldn’t have otherwise. “Would you mind if I come with you guys?” he asked nervously.
“Billy you're welcome to join us, and I think it would also be the best decision for you and y/n’s emotional and mental well beginnings.” Joyce smiled warmly at the young man that was going to fight to stay with her daughter. She couldn’t ask for better for her daughter. “You can stay with us as well. Till you find a job and get a place of your own.”
BIlly let out a shocked but relieved breath. Looking Joyce in the eye’s. He was grateful to her. “Thank you, Joyce.”
Joyce waved him off. “You're welcome, and thank you Billy. For the joy and happiness you bring my daughter.”
With the conversation done Billy headed back to Y/n’s room with their drinks.
“Took ya awhile. Thank you.” Y/n smiled, thanking and teasing him. She grabbed her coke, taking a sip all the while Billy walked around the bed to sit across from Y/n on it.
“No problem.” Billy wanted to tell her to badly to wait any longer. “I do have some news.”
“What's up?” Y/n sat up fully giving him all her attention.
“I talked to your mom just now.” he told her as they faced each other.
“Okay?” Y/n stretched out, raising a brow. ‘He talked to my mom?’ she thought, ‘what about?’
“I can’t wait to show you all my favorite places.” he smiled at her. Billy wanted her to figure it out, he watched her look confused for a few seconds before her face lit up and billy let out a laugh knowing she got it.
“You’re coming to Cali?!” Y/n exclaimed with a huge smile across her lips.
“Yeah I’m coming.” Billy nodded with a matching smile.
Y/n leaped across her bed and hugged him, the force knocking them both back so y/n layed on top of him. “Yes! Thank you.”
“No, Y/n. Thank you.” Billy spoke softly, brushing her hair back with one hand and the other wrapped around her waist tightly so Y/n could go anywhere. They were never going to be separated again. Not if he could help it. She saw him for who he was under the asshole he betrayed, she made him a better man.
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Stranger Than Fiction
Part 27: Gifts
Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)
Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 27, Part 28 (Coming Soon)...
AN: Sorry about the wait Word Count: 3,816 Warnings: none
The rest of your night is spent tossing and turning in bed. The prickling along the skin of your hand and wrist are your only reminder of what happened in the car, not to mention the memories that flood your mind every time you close your eyes. Billy’s coy smile, how his eyes devoured your every move, the hungry glint in them at the sounds you made. Your stomach writhes, flipping and swirling the more your mind lingers on the interaction.
It irritates you, the effect he has on you. Every smirk, or touch sends your heart into overdrive. It doesn't help that your experience with relationships up to this point have never gone further than hand holding. But, this electricity that exists between you and Billy seems to be short circuiting all your logic and reason.
You’ve never spent a lot of time thinking about things like this, you’re not a child, Nancy has told you plenty about her relationship with Steve. You just never took any interest in it. Until now it seems. You're plagued by thoughts of Billy pressed against you, his calloused hands holding you tightly, his lips against your skin, the feel of his hot breath mixing with yours. Fuck.
You turn your head, releasing a pent up scream into your pillow until you're out of breath.
When exhaustion finally wins out, you’re cast into another restless sleep.
———-
You’ve been here before. It’s dark and cold, familiar. Home. It’s quiet right now, for now. You’re not needed, yet. Fear twists through every tendril of your being, as much a part of you as the darkness. You can feel the shadow in your mind, waiting. Ready to bend, break if needed. You’re tired. But, there is no rest here. No peace. No hope. Forever.
———
This is different. Not cold, warmth washes over you. The sound of crashing waves is rhythmic, almost like breathing. It soothes the initial panic of being in a new place, so bright and peaceful. It’s so different from the other place. You are able to glance around, there is no one else here. An empty beach. It’s nice.
———
The sound of your mom trying to sneak out of your room wakes you the next morning.
“Mom?” You ask, propping yourself up on an elbow, wiping sleep from your eyes. She stops, her hand on the door. She’s still in her scrubs, the only illumination in the room is the light coming in from the hallway.
“Hey sweetie.” She greets you softly, turning to face you, an apologetic smile already on her lips. “I was just checking on you, go back to sleep.” She tries to reassure you. Your gut twists, you can barely see it in the dim light but it’s definitely there. The ever present worry you inspire in her. You were having some kind of nightmare, you can feel it in the tense in your muscles and the ache in your bones. Feeling the exhaustion that plagues you from the tension your dreams bring into reality.
“I’m sorry mom.” You sigh, running a hand through your hair feeling the dampness of sweat. Her smile falters, pulling tighter at your apology.
“Don’t be sorry love. It just takes… time.” She reminds you. You know it’s what she needs to believe. That with enough time your mind will heal, that the nightmares will eventually fade.
“It’s getting better.” The lie tastes bitter. Her shoulders sag slightly, like she can feel the lie physically. She won’t press though, both of you are happy to let it sit between you. It’s easier than facing reality.
She pads over to your bed, gently stooping to press a kiss on your brow.
“I love you.” She says softly. You can’t help the small smile that pulls from you.
“I love you too.” You reply reflexively. You always say it back, just in case. It’s an easy truth, for the both of you. She pulls away, her smile a bit more relaxed than it was. “Go back to sleep.” She says again, patting your head as she steps back towards the door. She gives you a pointed look you know she normally only reserves for unruly patients, leaving no room for argument.
“Alright. No need to pull out the nurse mom voice.” You joke, lying back down. She laughs lightly at your joke, slipping out the door.
“Goodnight kiddo.” She says softly. You roll onto your other side, your back towards the door. You watch the light narrow into a sliver of the wall opposite you as she closes the door, leaving it open only a crack. Then laying still, you focus on slowing your breathing, listening to the sounds of your mom moving around the house getting ready for bed. She’s awake for another half hour, eating leftovers, looking through the mail, showering, and finally you hear the springs of her mattress creak as she gets into bed.
You listen to the silence for a little bit. You like the quiet. Your life has been chaos for so long, from the moment you woke up in the hospital and every day since it feels like the world has erupted into too many sounds. Everyone talking, a constant low level buzz of activity. It’s sometimes enough to drive you crazy.
When you're certain your mom is asleep, you quietly slip out of bed and get dressed. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you note that it’s only 6AM, still early enough for your morning walk to be peaceful. The house is still dark, but you move through it easily navigating in the dim light of morning. You gather your journal, and fill your water bottle placing both into your bag. When you go to put on your shoes, the dangling remainder of your sole catches your attention. You inspect the dilapidated sneaker for a moment, trying to think of the best way to cobble it back together. You eventually settle on duct taping the pieces back together, wrapping the tape around the shoe a couple of times to make sure it's secured.
It’s not pretty, but technically it’s a whole shoe again. Satisfied that your solution is functional, you lace up your shoes and grab Steves’ jacket from the coat rack. Slinging your bag over your shoulder you head out the door. The dawn is cold, the sky a dim shade of gray, everything still cast in shadow the morning fog slowly creeping over the earth.
You pick up a steady pace, heading for your favorite sunrise spot. There is a hill about a mile east that looks out over the currently barren fields and will be the first spot in Hawkins to see the sun. It also happens to have a very comfortable rock that is perfect for sitting and writing.
By the time you reach it, the sun has just started to peak over the horizon, bathing the top of the hill in golden sunlight. You can feel its warmth on your exposed skin, the cold morning air still clinging to the shadows. You take out your water bottle and notebook, setting the empty bag down on the cold rock. You sit down, positioning yourself to face the sunrise, taking a moment to watch the earth in front of you slowly brighten, the light washing away the remaining shadows. It’s quiet here, as quiet as it can be in nature. There are still the chirps of the birds and the rustling of dead leaves as small animals pass by, but peaceful.
You know that you can’t stay out too long. You may not notice the cold but your body still has a physical response to it and it's still the middle of December. So you open your notebook and begin.
The story you’ve been working on is not peaceful. It is a terrible story about a young boy raised to fight monsters. He’s known no other life, he was born with the burden of being the only one who can see these monsters, and he can never stop. But the older he gets, and the harder he fights to protect the world from evil, he realizes that a bit of that evil has taken root in him. It starts small, a black spot behind his ear, but it grows. It digs its roots in deep, twisting its way into his soul.
In the beginning the young man starts off as the hero, but eventually the evil will consume him and he will become what he fought so hard against. You know the ending, but it’s not written yet. There is still hope in the middle of the story.
When you notice the red tinge in your fingertips brought on by the chilly December air you stop and pack up your things. Taking one last glance around at the now illuminated field, you turn and head back home.
You arrive at the same time Steve pulls into your driveway. You can see him through the window as you approach and he looks a bit worse for wear. His hair is damp, hanging loosely around his pale face. His eyes are hidden behind sunglasses but are no doubt blood shot with circles under them. He cuts the engine as you approach the drivers’ side, opening the door to haul himself out with a grunt of effort.
“Alright grandpa, how’s that hangover treating you?” You ask, unable to stop your teasing smirk even for his sake. He sighs heavily, closing the door just to lean back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.
“What kind of friend are you?” He asks, lifting a brow. “How could you let me drink that much?” You come to a stop in front of him, crossing your arms to mirror him.
“Because according to you, you’re ‘a grown ass man’ who ‘knows how to handle his alcohol’, and because I ‘never let you have any fun’.” You say, throwing air quotes around some of the excuses he gave you when you tried to get him to slow down the night before. A bit of pink brightens his cheeks at the reminder, but he laughs good naturedly at your teasing.
“Stop holding me accountable for my own actions.” He groans. “I don’t feel good, so I’m just going to blame you to make myself feel better.” He goes on, pressing his finger tips against his temples. His small smile brings a bit of life back to his ashen face.
“Oh of course. Whatever makes your life easier Steve.” You concede, your own smile pulling at your lips. He huffs a laugh, lifting his sunglasses onto his head. There is a beat of silence before he clears his throat, his cheeks flushing a bit more.
“And- uh- thanks. For, you know, babysitting me last night.” He says sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his beck. Your stomach drops at the reminder, you didn’t think Steve was sober enough to remember much but apparently he remembered enough. You wonder if he remembers how he had held you against him, crying quietly in the kitchen while you whipped his tears. How he had gently lowered his forehead to yours and held your palm against his beating heart. You don’t want to press the subject, especially if he doesn’t remember everything.
“Don’t mention it, I’ll bill your parents later.” You joke, forcing yourself to chuckle. Steve laughs lightly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He looks you up and down, nodding his head towards his jacket you’re still wearing.
“The jacket looks good on you.” He says. You look down at the old bomber jacket, moving to unzip it.
“Yea sorry I just borrowed it to walk home last night. I, uh, couldn’t sleep.” You tell him, the unspoken truth behind your words not lost on him. He’s familiar with your anxious habits that don’t always make sense. That you have a tendency to walk away when your brain won’t settle down. His hand stops yours on the zipper, pulling it away.
“It’s okay, you can keep it.” He tells you. “I don’t wear it anymore anyways.” He explains, looking down at his hand encircling your wrist.
“Thanks Steve.” You beam up at him. He smiles back , his thumb running over the underside of your wrist. Your heart leaps. In that moment you wonder if he’s somehow feeling where Billy’s lips had been the night before. But that’s ridiculous.
“It will be a nice reminder of me while I’m gone. Along with this.” He says, pulling something from his pocket. Your eyes widen at the sight of a delicate gold chain, glinting in the sun, a small pendant hanging perfectly in the center.
“What is that?” You ask in confusion. Steves’ smile only grows as he drapes the shining metal over your wrist, easily clasping it in place.
“It’s your Christmas present. I’m giving it to you early cause I won’t be back until after new years.” He tells you, one hand still gently cupping your wrist. “The lady told me it’s real so it won’t leave a ring or anything.” He tells you as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.
Heat flushes your cheeks as you inspect the bracelet. You take in the intricate beauty of the simple chain, small links twisting and interlocking into a light strand of glittering gold. A simple pendant hangs from the middle. A brilliant shining sun, catching and reflecting the light, casting off its own rays as it hangs from your wrist. It’s beautiful. More elegant than anything you’ve ever owned. Something twists low in your gut.
“Steve, I can’t take this.” You tell him, moving to unclasp the chain. He instantly pushes your hand away.
“Of course you can.” He insists. Suddenly his eyes fill with worry. “Do you not like it?” He asks, his smile falling. Your stomach sinks.
“No, I- I like it, it’s really beautiful. It’s just too nice.” You try to explain. Steve sighs with relief, his smile returning in an instant.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a bracelet, it’s not like I bought you a car or something.” He laughs at his own joke. You struggle to maintain your smile. You know that money isn’t really an issue with Steve’s allowance but it doesn’t make you feel any better. He should be saving his money for school, not spending it on pretty things for you. Steve’s eyes catch on to your discomfort almost instantly. “Please accept it.” He pleads sincerely. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” He explains, one of his fingers flicking over the sun pendant.
Your heart swells at the sentiment. It’s unbearably cheesy, and very Steve. When your eyes glance up to meet his you’re once again met with the big brown puppy eyes, the hangover makes them look especially sad. You have to suppress a groan.
“Okay.” You finally give in, earning an ear to ear grin from Steve that pulls a smile out of you as well. “Thank you, Steve.”
“Merry Christmas, Babysitter.” He says, pulling you into a crushing hug.
“Merry Christmas.” You reply, wrapping your arms around him. He holds you tightly, pulling you up and into him. “I didn’t get you anything.” You admit, shamefully burying your face in his shoulder. His responding laugh shakes both of you.
“Can I request an official document declaring that I’m your best friend?” He asks. Your cheeks burn at the memory of you and Steve admitting that you are each other's best friends the night before. You laugh, trying to swat at him but he keeps his arms locked around you. “Can I get it notarized as well?” He adds, still laughing.
“Oh shut up.” You groan, earning another laugh. When he finally lets you go, you take a half step back. You’re hyper aware of the bracelet, holding your arm slightly away from your body to keep it from catching on any of your clothes and potentially scuffing it.
“Aren't you flying out today? When are you supposed to head to the airport? ” You ask, glancing at your watch.
“I was supposed to leave 10 minutes ago.” He tells you flatly. You gap at him.
“You what? What are you doing here? You’re going to miss your flight you dork!” You practically yell at him, giving his arm a shot towards his car.
“I had to come say goodbye.” He says, laughing as he opens the door and allows you to shove him into the driver's seat.
“You could have just called!” You say, slamming the door closed as soon as his legs are in. You see him laugh again through the window. The engine roars to life as Steve cracks the window, still smiling.
“No I couldn’t.” He says, like it’s a fact. That gets an eye roll from you.
“Get out of here before I’m stuck with you all winter break.” You tell him, unable to stop the small smile that he always manages to drag out of you.
“I’ll call you from the resort!” He tells you, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of the drive. “Don’t miss me too much!” He calls from the end of the driveway. “I’ll try!” You call back, waving goodbye as Steve gives you one last smile before pulling into the street. You watch the car speed down your street and disappear around the corner before heading towards the house.
An uneasy feeling settles over you as you make your way to your door. You and Steve had quickly become inseparable since the night the gate closed, it was a seamless partnership. It made you feel like there was someone there who had your back. You know that Nancy and Jonathan are still close but the knowledge that Steve will be alone for the next two weeks fills your mind with a low level of anxiety.
A chill snakes down your spine and your hurry into the house. You feel unsettled from the thoughts of Steve being so far away and practically unprotected, your palms itch with the need to do something. Instinctively you begin checking the safety of your own home. Moving quickly and efficiently you check locks on all the doors and windows, then lay hands on all the hidden weapons in the house. When you’ve checked all of them, you settle at the table with your fathers Barretta, pulling out the cleaning kit. It's monotonous work, but cleaning the pistol always seems to ease the itch in your hands when your anxiety picks up.
Rolling up the sleeves on the jacket your attention catches on the glint of gold around your wrist. You examine it for a moment, looking at how the delicate chain contrasts against your sun damaged skin. How it stands in opposition to your calloused hands, your fingernails chewed down to the quick, cuticles picked to an angry red. Your stomach twists.
It really is a beautiful piece of jewelry, delicate and perfectly balanced. Traits you can’t see in yourself. It really is too nice for someone like you.
What if you broke it or scratched it? What if you lost it on a walk? What if you fucked it up?
It’s too good for you. You wish it wasn’t, but it is.
You carefully unclasp the chain, lying it gently on the table before you start cleaning. You lay out the cleaning supplies, setting the pistol down on a rag in front of you. Then you settle into the process of disassembling and cleaning all the small pieces of the weapon. You remember when Hopper had taught you how to properly clean a gun. He told you that he and your dad would sit in silence for hours just sipping on drinks and cleaning the small harmless parts of the deadly machines. He always stressed that it was vitally important for you to understand the inner workings of a gun before ever picking one up. How all the pieces fit together, and if even one small part was missing or broke it would alter the functionality with devastating results.
Your fingers slowly darken with the combination of CLP cleaning oil and burnt carbon. You work diligently, rubbing at any blemishes remaining. When you’re satisfied that the gun is clean, and the anxiety in your mind has lessened slightly, you reassemble your gun and pack up your cleaning kit.
You move to grab the pistol, intending to put it back where it was hidden in your nightstand but pause your eyes catching on how dirty your hands are. You go to the sink and scrub at your hands until they are rubbed raw. When you’re sure that no remnants of carbon or oil cling to your hands, you pick up the gun in one hand and the gold bracelet in the other. You walk to your room, securing the pistol to the underside of your nightstand and placing the glimmering chain on the surface.
You can’t risk accidentally damaging it. Better to keep it here, safe. Your fingers ghost along the edges of the sun pendant, still managing to catch some of the light, glimmering up at you.
The sound of a revving engine causes you to jump.
Billy.
Your eyes dart to the time. 1156. You had lost track of time and nearly forgotten that Billy told you he would pick you up at 12. Not knowing what to expect, you just grab your bag, still packed from your walk, and head out the door before Billy can make enough noise to wake your mom.
Before you step out the door, you take a deep breath, reminding yourself that you have killed monsters before and faced shady government agencies, you should not let Billy fluster you the way he does. You are going to be so calm, he’s going to get bored and stop teasing you. That’s the plan.
His eyes are on you from the moment you step out of the house, his gaze follows you all the way to the car. Climbing into the passenger seat you notice he’s playing a cassette, it’s the first time you’ve actually recognized the song. You can’t remember the name, but it’s one of the songs Max showed you that day after school.
“You didn’t have to drive me.” You tell him, buckling your seatbelt. Billy immediately rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh.
“Yea, tell that to the duct tape holding your shoes together right now, loca.” He shoots back.
“It’s only one of them.” You grumble, settling into your seat. Billy just chuckles.
“It’s just a ride crazy, don’t make a big deal about it.” He tells you, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of your driveway.
AN: sorry this took so long 😬
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STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST
Will Byers
Steve Harrington
None :(
Nancy Wheeler
None :(
Jonathan Byers
Jason Carver
Eddie Munson
#stranger things#fanfiction#male reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x male reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson#jason carver#jason carver x male reader#jonathan byers x reader#jonathan byers x you#jonathan byers#jonathan byers x male reader#will byers x y/n#will byers x reader#will byers x male reader#will byers#stranger things will
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Open Arms Chapter One
steve harrington x fem!reader Open Arms Masterlist word count : 6k Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things~1984~ This chapter takes place during Season 2 Episodes 1-5
Chapter Two
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
Another day in Hawkins. Another day of high school. Another day stuck in the same small, sleepy town you’ve known for as long as you can remember. It feels like nothing ever changes here, like every day just blurs into the next, predictable and quiet.
Every day, you wake up wishing for some kind of miracle, something that could shake things up, make life a little less ordinary. Something that could turn your world… Upside Down.
“Y/N!” your mom calls out from the kitchen, “Is Steve giving you a ride today?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes. “Mom, seriously…when was the last time Steve drove me to school? He has a girlfriend to pick up now.”
Steve, your best friend since the first grade. To everyone else he was The Reigning King of Hawkins High. To you he was just the boy next door who reigns havoc on your life, makes everything a little more complicated whether you want it or not.
Your mom hums thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time you found yourself a boyfriend.”
“I’m perfectly fine, thanks.”
She gives a little shrug. “I’m just saying, wouldn’t it be nice to be taken out on a date once in a while?”
“Mom,” you sigh, “please take your matchmaking somewhere else.”
She’s not wrong, though. You haven’t let yourself even think about dating anyone else since the last “almost” with Steve. Around a year ago, he’d done something reckless enough to mess up things with Nancy, and she seemed to be getting closer to Jonathan Byers. You had just gotten out of a relationship yourself.
It happens every time: he messes things up with a girl, or you’re fresh out of a breakup, and suddenly, like clockwork, you’re back in each other’s lives, circling each other. It’s as if you’re both bound to this endless cycle of almosts—falling together just to fall apart again. You know the game by heart, and you’re tired of it, tired of the late nights that never lead to anything real, the unspoken words that hang heavy in the air between you both. But still, you can’t seem to let go.
Nothing ever actually happens. You just end up crashing at each other’s houses, watching movies till you both fall asleep, or driving out to Lover’s Lake to stargaze and rant about your trainwreck love lives. But you both know what it is—and what it isn’t. The truth is, you’re bound by a history no one else could touch. Growing up together, you made the stupid decision of being a lot of each other’s firsts, and you’ve always been the one person who truly gets him. It’s a bond that runs deeper than most things in your life, yet it never seems to go anywhere beyond these stolen moments. And maybe that’s why it hurts the most—knowing he’s always right there but never fully yours.
⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆
At school, you overhear the girls in the hallway whispering about the new guy in town. Though “guy” isn’t the word they use—they’re calling him a real man, with a muscle car to match and actual muscles to back it up. You’ve never been the type to shy away from guys, and you’ve certainly never had any trouble attracting attention. Still, something about the way they talk about him piques your curiosity, though you’d never admit it.
You notice the once-empty locker beside yours is finally in use, a few things tossed inside. You wonder briefly who claimed it. That curiosity doesn’t last long.
“Excuse me, gorgeous, but I think that’s my locker.”
You turn to find the living, breathing embodiment of the girls’ descriptions. Tall, sharp-jawed, with piercing blue eyes, and that effortless, cocky grin. You don’t even have to ask if it’s him.
“Oh—my bad,” you say, stepping aside.
“And what’s your name?” he asks, his smile unwavering.
Who does he remind you of?
“Y/N…” You try to pinpoint it, that nagging sense of familiarity.
He tosses his keys into the locker, eyes still fixed on yours, something almost playful in his gaze.
Then it hits you.
“I’m—”
“Knight Rider?” you say slyly, a smirk playing at your lips. He blushes just a little, caught off guard, and you savor the small victory.
“Well played,” he says, taking your hand into his for a confident but gentle shake.
“That’s just the beginning,” you respond, shutting your locker with a quiet click, eager to keep the mystery between you two alive.
“I hope so. I’m Billy by the way,” he replies, his voice softer now, still slightly in awe of you. There’s something in his eyes—a challenge. And you can tell, he’s baited.
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At lunch, you find yourself walking through the crowded cafeteria, scanning the room for a familiar face. As luck would have it, you bump into Nancy and Steve near the food line.
“Hey,” Steve greets, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity. “What did you think of the new guy? Total douche, right?”
You catch the look on his face, a mix of hope and something else you can’t quite place. It’s clear he’s fishing for your opinion, eager for you to agree with him.
You shrug, trying to keep your tone casual, though you can’t hide the small smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean…” Your voice comes out just a bit higher than usual, betraying your uncertainty. “He’s like the entire cast of The Outsiders wrapped up in one package.” You leave it at that, the playful jab hanging in the air between you three.
Nancy chuckles, gripping her tray closely as she looks between you and Steve. You take the opportunity to point at her, nodding toward Steve. “Looks like your girl might agree with me too.”
Nancy gasps and bursts into laughter. “I don’t know, I guess. He’s not really my type though.”
You smirk, not missing a beat. “That’s so funny, because I’m pretty sure I saw a David Hasselhoff photo in your locker just last week?”
Steve’s face falls slightly, and you catch the brief flash of disappointment in his eyes. “Oh please,” he says, his tone a bit too defensive, “he is not David Hasselhoff.”
“Knight Rider,” Nancy interjects, her eyes darting between you and Steve. You both freeze, caught off guard.
“What?” You ask, happy she sees the resemblance too.
Nancy looks back and forth between you two, realization dawning on her. “He has the car, the curls, and the mus—muscle car.”
You raise an eyebrow, teasing her. “You just said the car twice. Sure you didn’t mean another kind of muscle?”
Nancy giggles at your comment, but Steve pushes you playfully, though there’s a layer of something more in his touch—like he’s trying to keep things light but it doesn’t quite feel like it used to.
“Have I told you that I hate you?” Steve mutters under his breath, though it’s more playful than anything else.
You smile, your tone laced with the usual teasing. “All too often.”
But as you both lock eyes, something shifts. It’s not just a playful exchange anymore. The usual banter feels heavy now, the space between you both thick with unspoken words. Steve’s smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same distance creeping between you two that you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. You quickly look away, forcing the feeling down as Nancy continues to laugh, unaware of the sudden tension lingering.
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You’re walking down the hall, a few steps ahead of Steve, the sounds of lockers slamming and voices all around you fading as the tension between you both hangs in the air. Every time you glance over your shoulder, his gaze is already on you—lingering, just a bit too long.
You both fall into an uneasy silence. It’s not the comfortable quiet you used to share, but something heavier. Something unspoken.
You stop for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I’ll see you in class,” you murmur, turning to leave.
But Steve’s voice stops you. “Hey,” he calls softly, his hand brushing yours as he steps into your path. His touch is warm, too warm for something so casual. His fingers linger for a split second before he pulls away, but the moment still sits between you, unresolved.
You look up, meeting his eyes. His usual cocky confidence is gone, replaced by something more vulnerable. It’s almost as if he’s waiting for you to say something, anything to break the silence.
“Steve…” You don’t know what you’re going to say. You want to say something that makes it all feel normal again, but the words feel stuck in your throat.
He opens his mouth, hesitates, then shuts it again. “Never mind.” The smile he forces doesn’t reach his eyes again. It’s strained, tight. And suddenly, you can’t look at him anymore.
Turning quickly, you walk past him, your heartbeat pounding in your ears.
From down the hall, Nancy watches the exchange, arms folded, leaning against the locker as she observes. There’s no jealousy in her gaze—she’s been there too. She knows the space between two people who care for each other but don’t know how to bridge it. She’s seen it with Jonathan, with the way they get tangled in unspoken words and moments that feel like too much, but too little at the same time. It’s just the way things go sometimes.
───⋆。°✩🕰️✩°。⋆───
*Flashback*
2 years ago
It’s a Friday afternoon, and the hallways of Hawkins High are quieter than usual. Most of the students have gone home, leaving the echoes of footsteps and lockers slamming shut. You and Steve are walking side by side, the familiar warmth of his presence at your side like it always has been—comforting, easy.
You laugh as Steve pulls an exaggerated face, trying to get you to laugh at his antics as he mimics one of the teachers. You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile spreading across your face.
“You’re such an idiot,” you tease, nudging him with your shoulder.
He bumps you back, almost knocking you into the lockers. “You love me for it,” he smirks, and there’s a hint of something else in his gaze, something unspoken that lingers between you, like a question neither of you has the courage to ask.
You roll your eyes again, but there’s no denying the way your heart skips. “Yeah, maybe,” you say, trying to brush it off. But you both know that maybe means something more.
You reach the end of the hallway, your steps slowing as the moment stretches, neither of you wanting to be the first to turn back, to end this rare, quiet time between just the two of you.
He glances over at you, his steps slowing, his voice quieter when he speaks again. “Hey, so… Bryan still around?”
You stop walking, surprised by the question, but it’s Steve, and it’s always been easy with him. “No,” you reply, shaking your head. “He’s out of the picture.”
Steve’s expression softens, a slight smile playing on his lips as if the weight of something between you two has been lifted. “Good. He never really seemed like the right guy for you.”
Your breath catches slightly at the unexpected warmth in his words, but you don’t let it show. “Yeah, well… sometimes you don’t really see things until it’s too late.”
Steve nods, looking down for a moment as if he’s trying to decide something. He looks back up at you, his usual carefree grin returning. “Well, if you’re not busy tonight, you wanna come over to my place? We can grab some takeout, watch movies… you know, normal hangout stuff.”
There’s something in his invitation that feels different this time, but you brush it off. It’s Steve. He always invites you over. You’ve done it a million times before—movies, pizza, talking about everything and nothing. It’s what you do.
“Yeah,” you agree, “sounds good.”
Steve’s eyes flicker down to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression shifting. You feel your stomach flutter, the air between you thickening as the playful banter dies down.
You find yourself leaning in, just a bit, and you see Steve’s breath catch, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours.
But before you can get any closer, a loud bang from down the hall makes both of you snap apart like you’ve been caught.
You both step back, instantly awkward, eyes darting everywhere except at each other. The spell breaks, but the tension still lingers, heavy in the air. You glance at Steve, and his expression is unreadable—like he’s trying to hide something, or maybe it’s you who’s hiding it.
You break the silence first, a half-laugh escaping your lips. “Well… that was close.”
Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking embarrassed but also relieved. “Yeah, totally. We’re just—uh, messing around, right?”
You nod, trying to brush it off, but your heart is racing, and you know he feels it too. “Right. Just messing around.”
But neither of you says anything more. You both head in opposite directions down the hallway, still feeling the echo of what almost happened, both of you wondering if the other is thinking about it too.
───⋆。°✩🕰️✩°。⋆───
At last, it’s the day of the party. You’ve spent longer than you’d like to admit getting ready, but you’re finally happy with your look. Blue bell-bottom jeans, a tight orange top with a center zip that falls just below the line of modesty—it’s bold, but you feel good in it. Confident, even.
You arrive at the party, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside you. The music pulses through the house, and people are scattered, laughing and talking, their faces blurry in the haze of a dimly lit room. As much as you try to act like you don’t care, the anxiety creeps in. Funny how someone so confident can still feel out of place in a crowd.
You push through, trying to find your core group, but as you weave through the bodies, there’s really only one person you’re looking for. Steve. The one person who has always had a way of making you feel like you belong.
On your way through the crowd, you bump into Jonathan Byers. Another one of your longtime friends. You’ve all grown up together in Hawkins, so you’ve seen each other through the years—some friendships stronger than others, but still, it’s hard to forget those familiar faces.
“Jonathan!” you call out with a smile, pulling him into a quick hug. “Loving the look, very you.” You nod at his usual, low-key style—flannel and jeans. He’s always been the quiet, thoughtful one in the group, and you just want him to feel good about his understated vibe.
“I like… your shirt,” he says, his words trailing off awkwardly.
Well, at least your shirt is doing what you intended it to. Maybe just not with the target audience.
“Looking for Nancy?” you ask, hoping he’ll pick up the conversation.
“Yeah,” Jonathan responds, his hands shoved in his pockets. “I don’t really associate with anyone else here.”
You put on a mock-offended face, “Ouch.”
He immediately backpedals, realizing how it sounded. “I mean, you were gone for a while. We kinda lost touch.” His gaze drops a little, clearly uncomfortable, referring to the time when your parents separated again, and you spent some months with your mom in California. It had been a rough time for you, especially being away from Steve. You’re still not sure how you survived that.
“Well, I’m back now,” you say, brushing off the past. “Come on, join me. I’m on a mission to find Steve and Nancy.”
Jonathan nods, grateful for the company. “Alright, lead the way.”
And there he is, leaning against the wall by the kitchen, laughing at something someone said, a bottle of beer loosely held in his hand. He’s effortlessly cool as usual, but there’s something different tonight. Maybe it’s the way his eyes flicker over to Nancy every now and then, or the tightness in his posture that betrays the casual air he’s trying to maintain.
Nancy stands next to him, arms crossed, her jaw clenched in that familiar way when she’s upset—though it’s hard to say if it’s the alcohol or something else that’s fueling her frustration tonight. She’s leaning a little too heavily on the counter, her face flushed, the words she’s muttering barely audible over the noise of the party.
Steve’s smile is gone now, replaced by a more serious expression. He’s trying to keep things light, but it’s clear she’s not having it.
As you and Jonathan walk toward the kitchen, you spot Steve and Nancy in their little world, tucked away by the counter. You can hear the edge in Nancy’s voice, even from a distance, though you can’t make out the words. Jonathan follows your gaze, his brow furrowing. You can’t blame him for looking the way he does—he’s been around long enough to know the dance between Steve and Nancy.
“Is she okay?” you ask, your voice quiet, though it feels more like an automatic question than one you really expect an answer to. You’ve seen enough of this cycle to know the routine.
Jonathan glances over, shaking his head just slightly. “I don’t think so,” he says, a rare seriousness in his tone. “But you know Nancy. She’ll push through.”
You feel the knot in your stomach tighten as you watch Steve’s stance shift, his body leaning toward Nancy as if trying to reach her without crowding her, trying to give her space but also not let her slip too far away. There’s something fragile in the air, something more than just the tension between them. It’s like Steve’s holding on by a thread, and maybe Nancy is, too, but neither of them wants to admit it.
“You should probably go talk to them,” Jonathan says, glancing at you. He doesn’t know what to say either, but it’s obvious that Steve’s been trying to manage things on his own. You could step in—or let him handle it.
You glance at Jonathan again, silently debating what to do. Jonathan nudges you gently with his elbow. “You good?” he asks. You nod, taking a step forward, your voice hesitant but warm. “Hey, guys, what’s going on?” you ask, trying to break through the tension without adding to it.
Nancy shoots you a sharp look before turning away, but Steve doesn’t seem to mind. He’s got that defeated, yet resigned, look on his face as he exhales deeply. He’s trying to hide it, but the frustration is written all over him.
“Just the usual,” Steve says with a small, forced smile, looking at you.
Nancy, still with her arms crossed, shoots you a look that says more than her words do. It’s not that she’s mad at you; it’s just that she doesn’t want to be the center of attention right now. She’s not ready to have the conversation.
Jonathan stands by you, hands in his pockets, waiting for you to say something. You don’t know what the right thing is. The silence in the room is thick now.
“I’m gonna go get another drink,” Nancy slurs, her words trailing off as she pushes past Steve, who’s still trying to calm her down.
“Please don’t,” Steve says, his voice low and frustrated, but he’s too late. He sighs and chases after her, leaving you standing alone for the moment.
Not long after, a voice you’re starting to recognize from the past few days calls out from behind you.
“So if I’m Knight Rider, then who does that make you?” Billy’s voice is smooth, cocky, and unmistakable. He’s standing just a few feet away now, that grin still plastered on his face.
You turn to meet his gaze, letting a playful smile tug at the corners of your lips. You raise an eyebrow, a silent challenge in your eyes. “You’ll have to learn more about me to find out.”
He steps a little closer, eyes narrowing with amusement. “When?”
The question hangs in the air, and for a split second, you feel that old rush of excitement—the thrill of the unknown. Remembering your mom’s less-than-subtle hints this morning, you decide to play along.
“How about Wednesday night? We can go see the new Terminator movie. You look like someone who appreciates a little Arnold Schwarzenegger,” you say, testing the waters, letting a hint of flirtation slip into your voice.
Billy doesn’t hesitate, that confident grin of his widening. “It’s a date. I’ll pick you up. And…I’ve been to the gym Arnold works out in.”
You raise your hand to stop him, a slight smirk on your face. “Right…I’m sure you have. Also, I’ve seen how you drive your car. Maybe I’ll meet you there,” you tease, enjoying the playful banter.
He chuckles, stepping back, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. “I’ll go nice and slow just for you.”
You can’t help but laugh at that, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something you haven’t felt in a while. But as you look past him, your eyes flicker briefly to Steve, catching him trying to pry the solo cup out of Nancy’s hand. Just as the music halts, that red solo cup and the red mystery punch within it spills all over Nancy’s white shirt.
Her face is in complete disbelief, she sways back and forth her reaction clearly slowed down by her alcohol intake.
“Screw you.”
Jonathan follows her quickly into the bathroom.
“You know,” Billy starts again, “Rumor has it that you and Harrington have quite the colorful history? Why is it that you two aren’t prom king and queen this year?”
Something in Billy’s tone instantly makes you second-guess your plans for Wednesday. His fading smirk tells you he’s noticed the flash of disdain on your face.
“What does it matter if you’re the one taking me on a date Wednesday?” you say, your voice edged with a warning. You’re feeling oddly protective over you and Harrington’s history, a past that’s none of Billy’s business.
Billy raises an eyebrow, caught off guard but intrigued. “Fair enough,” he replies, but the cocky glint in his eyes lingers, as if he’s still sizing up the situation.
Shortly after, you spot Steve storming out of the bathroom alone, Nancy nowhere in sight. His expression is tense as he heads straight for the drink station, a familiar frustration in his stride. You catch a glimpse of Jonathan making his way toward Nancy, so you turn to Billy with a polite excuse and make your way over to Steve.
“Hey, you don’t need to be drinking any more right now,” you say, noticing that Steve has downed two cups of punch in the short walk it took to reach him.
“I’ve got a pretty damn good reason to,” he mutters, his jaw tight as he opens a beer.
“Steve, you don’t have to tell me what happened, but at least think about the fact that you still have to drive home,” you warn, trying to keep your tone light.
He shrugs, avoiding your eyes. “You can drive me.”
“I never volunteered for that,” you reply, crossing your arms.
For a moment, he looks at you, really looks at you, and you can tell he’s realizing that things are different. You’re not just there to pick up his pieces anymore. You have your own life to live tonight—a party to enjoy, and maybe even boys to dance with. The weight of another round of Steve-and-Nancy drama? That’s not something you’re willing to carry this time.
“You’re right,” Steve says, setting the beer down with a sigh. “I’ll just go sit out on the porch and sober up a bit. Then I’ll head out. And I wanna make sure Nancy gets home safe.”
You give his arm a quick squeeze, silently admiring that, even in the middle of an argument, he’s still looking out for her. That is… until his gaze drifts to the front door, where he sees Jonathan helping a barely-standing Nancy out to his car.
Crap.
“Go sit on the porch. I’ll be right there,” you say quickly, hinting you’ll handle it. You rush outside to catch up with Jonathan. “You know how this looks, right?”
Jonathan gives a solemn nod. “She asked me.”
Nancy lifts her head slightly, her words slurred and muddled. “I don’t want… Steve to take me home. Not Steve. I want to see Barb’s parents. Take me to Barb’s house.”
You pause, taken aback. “Barb’s parents? Why do you want to see Barb’s parents right now?”
Jonathan stiffens, worry flickering in his eyes. “Uh, I really think I should get her home now. Maybe check on Steve too.”
Without another word, they’re off, leaving you standing in the night with a sense of unease. You know Barbara Holland was Nancy’s best friend, missing since last year. But why would she bring that up now? And why with such urgency?
You find Steve out back, leaning against the porch railing, eyes glazed with frustration and a hint of sadness.
“Steve…why would Nancy want to see Barb’s parents tonight?”
He shakes his head slowly, the alcohol clearly loosening his grip on restraint. “God, I wish I could tell you everything right now. It would make things so much easier. You’re my best friend. I tell you everything. But for the past year, I’ve been keeping so many secrets from you.”
A pit forms in your stomach. “What do you mean, Steve?”
He looks at you, eyes haunted, and whispers, “If I told you, you’d die.”
You laugh nervously, trying to shake the unease settling over you. “C’mon, it can’t be that serious.”
“There’s stuff going on around here that you have no clue about.” He reaches up, gently brushing a stray hair from your face, his fingers lingering a second longer than they should. Your heart skips, half hoping this is just the alcohol, half hoping it’s not. He always does this, walks that fine line.
His voice cracks slightly as he murmurs, “I just want to keep you safe.”
In that moment, you realize it’s not just words—it’s a plea, and you can feel the weight of something dark lurking just beyond his gaze, something he desperately wants to shield you from.
You give Steve a gentle pinch, trying to ground him. “I’m safe, Steve. I’m right here, see?”
But he only shakes his head, eyes dark with something close to dread. “Here is where it’s least safe. Those things… they’re out there.”
A chill runs down your spine. “What things, Steve?” You search his face, recognizing the unmistakable truth behind his words.
He just looks away, jaw clenched. Instinctively, your mind flashes back to last year, the disappearances of Will Byers and Barb. Then Nancy and Jonathan, vanishing for days without a word. Everyone assumed Jonathan had to hold things together while Joyce spiraled, refusing to believe her son was dead. There was even a funeral, and she still wouldn’t admit it. Then, against all logic, Will came back with no real explanation.
You remember Steve acting strangely after everything went down. He kept trying to make peace with Jonathan over the fight they got into outside the movie theater, but he dodged every question you asked about the night he went to Jonathan’s house, laughing nervously or changing the subject so fast it left you spinning. Then there was the night you found a bat in the trunk of his car—nails hammered into it like some kind of makeshift weapon. When you questioned him, he just shrugged it off, calling it a “guy thing,” and you let it go, though every instinct told you there was more to the story.
Whenever you pushed for answers, Steve would wave it off, teasing you about reading too many mysteries and spending too much time theorizing. But seeing the fear in his eyes now, the weight he’s carrying, it hits you like a punch: you were right to question everything. And he knows it, too.
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You drive Steve’s car back to his house, figuring you’ll pick up your mom’s in the morning. One night won’t matter.
Helping him up to his room, you can’t shake the strange coincidences piling up around Hawkins.
“I missed this,” he mumbles, settling onto his bed.
“What?”
“You… in my room,” he says softly, grabbing your hand. “Stay tonight. Don’t leave.”
“You have a girlfriend, Steve. I don’t stay over when you have a girlfriend.”
He sighs, eyes full of something almost desperate. “What kind of girlfriend says she isn’t really in love with you?”
You freeze. “I’m sorry—what?”
“She said we’re just… acting like we’re in love,” he says, voice rough with frustration and something else.
You can see it—the hurt he’s tried to bury, the way he’s tried so hard to be enough for someone. To finally feel wanted.
His arms slip around your waist, his head resting against your stomach, and you feel his shoulders shake. Silent tears he doesn’t want you to see.
“Hey, hey… She was drunk, okay? Everyone says stupid things when they’re drunk. Talk to her tomorrow. It’ll be fine.”
“She meant it,” he whispers, his voice breaking.
You gently push him back onto the bed, pulling the covers over him. “You’ve got a long day tomorrow, Steve. Get some rest, and we’ll figure out the Nancy thing together.”
You hate to leave him like this, but you know it’s the right thing to do. So, once again, you walk away, leaving your best friend alone with his heartbreak and the last traces of alcohol on his breath. Another turn in the endless cycle that is your friendship—always there for him, even as it pulls you back into the same, unbroken loop.
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The next day, Billy and Steve square off on the basketball court, the air thick with tension. Billy’s been taunting him non-stop, poking at Steve’s so-called “King Steve” reputation like it’s a worn-out joke. But Steve keeps his cool, mostly.
Until Billy casually drops your name.
“So tell me, Harrington,” Billy sneers with a smirk, “what made you go for the Wheeler girl over Y/N?”
Steve feels the muscles in his jaw clench, but he doesn’t take the bait. He knows better than to react. But Billy’s not done. He moves closer, a low chuckle escaping as he continues, “I mean, the King and the Princess of Hawkins High—cute match and all. But damn, man, have you seen the hips on her? Perfect for holding onto. Word is you already took her for a test drive, too. So I gotta wonder… why didn’t you ever claim her? Or maybe you just weren’t man enough?”
Steve’s control snaps. He shoves Billy hard, fire in his eyes as he stands inches from him, fists clenched. “Say one more thing about her. I dare you.”
Billy laughs, clearly enjoying himself, but there’s an edge to Steve’s stance, a fierce protectiveness that makes even Billy pause. Steve glares, his voice low and dangerous. “Y/N’s worth more than someone like you will ever know. So keep her name out of your mouth, or you’ll regret it.”
Right on cue, Nancy’s soft voice cuts through the tension. “Steve?” She stands just a few feet away, looking pale and uneasy, clearly having seen the entire thing unfold.
Billy smirks, throwing a last taunt over his shoulder. “Good luck, Harrington.” He saunters off, leaving Steve standing there, fists still clenched, his heart pounding.
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“Y/N!” your mom calls from downstairs. “Steve is here!”
Steve coming through the front door? That’s unusual—he’s always climbed the vines up to your window. You quickly spray a bit of perfume, fix your hair, then catch yourself in the mirror. Why are you even putting in effort for him?
When you come down, your mom throws you an excited smile, her back to Steve so he can’t see. She’s still holding onto that hope she’s had since first grade that you and Steve would end up together.
And then there he is, standing in the entryway with a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorite. Your heart stumbles as you take in every inch of him. For a brief second, you let yourself imagine you’re the only girl he brings flowers to. But realistically, he’s probably just coming from Nancy’s or on his way there next.
He hands you the flowers, his gaze lingering. “Thank you for everything.”
“It’s no big deal,” you say, trying to steady your voice.
“Well, I should get going,” he says, and your heart sinks. That’s it?
“But, uh, make sure to open your window. There’s a nice breeze out tonight,” he adds with a wink. You bite back a smile, catching on.
You say your goodbyes and dash up the stairs, ignoring your mom’s questions as Steve leaves. You open your window, sitting on your bed, waiting for him like you have a hundred times before. Somehow, after all these years, the excitement still feels brand new.
“Miss me?” He slips through the window, quietly so your mom doesn’t hear, and makes himself at home. He turns on your record player, the soft hum of music filling the room, then joins you on the bed.
He stares down at his hands. “I’m sorry for the position I put you in last night. It wasn’t fair, and you deserve better.”
You try to catch his gaze, but he’s clearly embarrassed. “That’s what best friends are for,” you say, hoping to ease his guilt.
You bite your tongue, unsure whether to bring up what he shared last night—but you’ve never hidden things from each other, and you don’t want to start now. “You told me about Nancy… how she said it felt like you were just acting in love.”
He sighs, defeated. “Yeah. I confronted her about it today. Asked if she could say she loved me, and she couldn’t.”
Your heart aches for him. “I’m sorry, Steve. Maybe she’s just… having a moment. A lot’s happened this year.”
The silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unsaid words.
“I’m gonna bring her flowers after this. I don’t think it’ll change anything, but she deserves an apology for everything I put her through,” he finally says, breaking the quiet. You smile, resting your hand on his knee. “I think that’s a good idea.”
He looks down at your hand on his knee, his fingers hovering for a moment before he covers it with his own. His expression softens, a hint of something he quickly tries to hide, but you can see it—a sadness mixed with a reluctant acceptance, like he knows exactly what all of this means.
He lets out a quiet sigh, staring at your intertwined hands. There’s a heaviness in his eyes. Like even if things with Nancy are ending, there’s something between you and him that’s never quite let go.
His fingers tighten around yours, just for a second, before he releases your hand and gives you a small, bittersweet smile.
“You should go,” you whisper. You don’t want him to. But he needs to.
He reluctantly resigns himself.
“Can I come pick you up in an hour? Maybe we can go to the movies or something?”
You know you should say no, but you can’t. “If you and Nancy aren’t making out and making up within the next hour then yes, we can go to a movie.”
He stares at you, and you can’t quite read him. You avert your gaze.
“It’s so funny,” he speaks almost as if he can’t believe himself, “No matter what…or who…I always need you.”
And with that he’s out the window and on his way to try and win back another woman.
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#strange things imagine#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington angst#steve harrington#slow burn#angst#steve harrington fic#stranger things fic#billy hargrove#nancy wheeler#jonathan byers#Open Arms AU
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Don’t know why I just had a random visual of being fucked hard on top of a counter by Jonathan Byers.
You two are closing down Surfer Boy Pizza. Fingers wrapped around shelves for leverage, supplies falling all over the floor. His jeans are around his ass, face in your neck, grunting and focussed. One of your hands hold onto the empty rack behind you, the other wound in his hair, legs locked around his waist.
#told y’all my brain makes random trash appear#could be any genre of trash with any character#my work#my writing#stranger things#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#jonathan byers imagine#jonathan byers fic#jonathan byers fanfiction#jonathan byers#jonathan byers fanfic#kristenwrites#stranger things smut#jonathan byers smut#jonathan byers x you#jonathan byers x reader#jonathan byers x y/n#jonathan byers x fem!reader#jonathan byers x female reader
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Crying, pregnancy, and brief mentions of body insecurity.
Eddie had told them.
So concisely, and specifically told them all that was forbidden in order to keep his friends from the scrutinizing tears of an anguished pregnant woman, that would have to be followed by a now frustrated father-to-be.
But like clockwork, his word of advice plummeted the second Jonathan Byers decided to speak. In retrospect, he wasn’t at all to blame, in fact, he was attempting to be supportive. And he would have done a great job had his nice words not been targeted to an overly sensitive thirty-four weeks expecting lady.
“Don’t worry,” he’d smiled so kindly, a testament to the Byers politeness that ran through the family, “I’m sure you’ll have a safe and easy delivery. Nothing to stress over.”
But the baby you were carrying was formulated by Munson genes, and the way it head-butted your pancreas, while simultaneously kicking your bladder made it hard to enjoy Jonathan’s sentiment.
“Ugh.” You could only scoff. “What do you know, you’re not pushing a baby out of your vagina.” Doing the one thing he told you not to do: stress.
The panic on Jonathan’s face was quite humorous, at least to Steve Harrington it was. Eddie, on the other hand, was shooting a disappointed glare to his friend. Because he told him. So concisely, and specifically told him.
1. Don’t say anything that’ll upset her.
2. Don’t try to say anything too mushy or nice to make it up for the first mistake, she’ll cry and feel awful about yelling.
3. Honestly, you shouldn’t even really speak to her.
4. But don’t ignore her! She’ll find a way to circle it back to you thinking she looks like a beached whale.
Rule number four had came about after Dustin Henderson tried to maneuver around the monstrosity that was Eddie Munson’s rules. In his own little weird way, he was trying to be helpful after your cries about being big. And Dustin thought it would be a bright idea to say “I happen to like whales.” It did not go over well.
And now, Jonathan Byers was falling into the same cycle.
“No, no!” It was damage control time. “I’m just wishing you and the baby to be okay, I swear. I just want you to be happy and comfortable.”
Bad move. How did he forget rule number two already?
Your face contorted into a deep frown, as your eyes watered, and that panicked look on Jonathan’s face never ceased.
“Oh, god.” Eddie whispered, as the waterworks crashed out.
“That’s so sweet of you!” You bawled. “I was so mean to you, and you were just being niceee!” Your head dropped to Jonathan’s shoulder, wetting his flannel with salty tears that seemed endless. Eddie would thump his friend’s forehead if he had the chance, but instead, he had to do damage control, and his tender hand rubbed your back.
“It’s alright, baby.” He cooed. “It’s totally okay, just let it all out.”
He fervently gestured to Jonathan to add on. This was his mistake, anyways. “There… there.” He awkwardly patted your back. “Yeah, it’s totally okay.”
Steve Harrington was beginning to rethink the whole six little nuggets thing.
Luckily, Jonathan’s words were enough, and you sniffled your way away from his now dampened shoulder.
“I-I’m sorry for crying so much.” Your hurt little face was enough to elicit some aw’s and it’s okay’s from the three men, who jumped to console you.
But then Steve spoke. Unwarrantedly.
“Hey, I’d cry, too, if I had to rip a seven pounder from my body.” He chuckled.
Your face dropped with horror. “Eddie!”
Eddie Munson was going to kill Steve Harrington.
#stranger things#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem!reader#dad!eddie x mom!reader#jonathan byers#steve harrington
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with you - w.b. (pt.2)
author’s note: this is part two to my first fic! as requested by someone in the comments. i was surprised i even got likes on it, so thank you!
paring: (s4) will byers x male reader
warnings: nothing because you can handle fluff (i hope)
word count: 459
requested: yes!!! requested by @nobodybelivesimstraight
Y/n means your name :)
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it’s been a year, the longest time i’ve ever been away from will. even if i call him frequently, it’s never the same as really being with him in person. i finally get to see him again! me, mike, and his monstrosity of a “californian outfit” already arrived with our suitcases. i looked around for will, and ran towards him and hugged him.
“will! i missed you!”
“i missed you too y/n, it’s been so long.”
“i also have something for you, will” i said as i pulled out a pack of oil paints. i knew he loved drawing and painting.
“woah! thanks y/n, i love it, i also have something for you.” he told me.
he gave me a rolled poster/canvas. i know whatever he painted would be amazing.
“it’s a painting i made for you.. i know its not muc-”
i shushed him. “what do you mean it’s not much? i know you put in a lot of effort and love into this. i know i’m gonna love it. i’m putting this up on my wall!”
“it’s better to open it up when we get back home, i wanna see your reaction when we get there.” he suggested to me.
while this was happening, mike was giving el the flowers he got for her. over and over again while we traveled, mike kept asking me if he picked the right colour and this and that.
we left for the byers’ house.
when we arrived, murray (who came to visit) and joyce were already there.
“y/n and mike! it’s been very long since i last seen you guys. you both grew very fast!” i honestly loved ms byers, she was always very kind to us, and a very motherly and understanding person.
and murray, murray was pretty funny as well. even if murray can be silly at some points, there will be times where he will have heartfelt conversations that show he actually cares.
jonathan too. he helped me and will a few times on homework, and i see he’s a good brother to will.
after greeting everyone, we went upstairs.
i had will’s painting in my hand.
“i’m gonna open it” i said excitedly. i pulled on the twine rope, and there revealed a beautiful painting of will and i during our last dnd session.
“will! this is beautiful, i love it!”
“i’m glad you do”
i hugged him, and gave him a little smooch on the cheek afterwards, with this his cheeks turned a light pink.
we had dinner, changed into other clothes, and slept. i ended up sleeping on another mattress in will’s room.
murray popped in last minute, and said a surprising little line.
“i know what you are byers.”
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i hope this was okay for a part 2! this was requested by a user in the comments, thank you for all the likes on my first fic! i never seen it coming! love you all. take care!
#x male reader#stranger things#will byers#will byers x male!reader#will byers x reader#stranger things x male reader#stranger things x reader#will byers x you#will byers x y/n#will byers imagine#will byers oneshot#will byers fluff#will byers angst#will byers fanfiction#will byers ff#will byers fanfic#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#st4#stranger things imagine#stranger things fanfic#mike wheeler#stranger things season 4#noah schnapp#taylor swift#midnights
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✧ smut. ❀ fluff. ☆ angst.
outer banks /youtubers / the vampire diaries
*:・゚✧*:・゚ stranger things masterlist *:・゚✧*:・゚
↳ steve harrington… (9)
- closing shifts ❀
♡ scoops ahoy after hours, i guess closing shifts at work aren’t half bad when you have steve to entertain you!
- heart to heart ❀
♡ at the starcourt mall bathroom, you and steve have a heart to heart.
- secret admirer ✧
♡ you and eddie were at a party steve was hosting. the two of you glued to each other's hip; longing looks, lingering touches, and by the end of the night eddie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. steve couldn’t keep his eyes off the view.
- drive in ❀
♡ going to a drive in theater with stevie!
- valentine’s day ❀
♡ valentine’s day with steve harrington.
- smoke sesh ✧
♡ steve invites you to a smoke sesh at eddies trailer. you were excited to hang out with them. after smoking and some alcohol, the mood drastically changed. tension rising as steve questions you about your attraction for eddie.
- praise ❀
♡ steve harrington loves getting under your skin, filling your stomach with butterflies from his praise.
- break up with your gf ❀
♡ in which steve has trouble in paradise, he goes to you for advice, and while your feelings are prominent, you're unsure of how steve feels about you. you urge him to break up with his girlfriend, since he is clearly very unhappy.
- doubt ☆
♡ after witnessing what he thinks is a friendly interaction between you and your ex billy, steve is left with a lot of doubt.
…
↳ jonathan byers… (1)
- photos ✧
♡ after a few too many drinks alone with jonathon byers, things get a little heated, and you get a little carried away.
…
↳ nancy wheeler… (0)
- soon to be announced :)
…
↳ eddie munson… (2)
- secret admirer ✧
♡ you and eddie were at a party steve was hosting. the two of you glued to each other's hip; longing looks, lingering touches, and by the end of the night eddie couldn’t keep his hands off of you. steve couldn’t keep his eyes off the view.
- good girl ✧
♡ eddie munson loves eating pussy, better yet he loves fucking you after he’s already made you crumble.
…
#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington smut#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington x eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#jonathan byers smut#jonathan byers x you#jonathan byers fanfic#jonathan byers x reader#jonathan byers#jonathan byers x reader smut#jonathan byers fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson story#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#nancy wheeler x you#nancy wheeler x reader#nancy wheeler fluff#nancy wheeler angst#nancy wheeler smut#nancy wheeler x y/n
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