#will byers angst

[hessolivagant]

redraw of the gayest scene in stranger things

Haha jk thought you were going to get something silly? No screw you

[bluebugjay]

it's just hit me that it's basically canon that Will didn't reach out more to Mike after the move because he was trying to 'rip off the bandaid'

he really thought his love for Mike was that hopeless and he should distance himself because of it.

pair that with the fact they never actually talked through what was said in the rain fight so Will probably feels like he's too childish for Mike and that he's holding him back.

and that he says 'if (i) was mean to you, or it seemed like (i) was pushing you away it's only because (i'm) scared of losing you'

he regrets not reaching out to Mike, he calls himself mean for it because he's scared of losing him. He tried to put distance between them in order to protect himself but in the end he just can't. He can't lose Mike even if it means he suffers a heartbreak.

[byler-alarmist]

Same vibes to me

[pariahsparadise]

stay | w. b.

nav. | m.list

request: could you write any fluff with will byers hehe

word count: 0.8k

author’s note: absolutely i can. but it will definitely have undertones of angst lolol. i wrote this really fast and it's so short, i'm sorry. i finished vol 1. the day it came out so stranger things has totally infested my mind. dw tho, THIS FIC DOES NOT HAVE STRANGER THINGS 4 SPOILERS!

pairings: will byers x gn!reader

warnings: uh will has a nightmare? not proofread. it's angsty but mostly fluff. i think

The gasps were what roused you from your spot on the floor.

You sat up straight, heart beating wildly at the sound of a distant scream, but one you managed to place immediately. Will. It took a beat for you to adjust to your surroundings before you remembered that you were in California, visiting your friend. Currently, you were in the Byers’ living room, sleeping on a mattress because you refused to let Will give up his own bed. 

Stumbling to your feet, you tried to make your way towards his room, the lack of light confusing you even more, as you were already in an unfamiliar setting, but you found your way there. Groping around for the door handle, you pushed the door open and walked in.

Your heart stuttered at the sight in front of you, Byers caught in a state between sleep and consciousness, thrashing around in his own bed. His blanket was strewn on the floor, his legs flinching in a way that told you that he must have kicked it off. His breaths were unnaturally fast and his eyelids fluttered, each twitch dragging a cut along your own heart. Dropping to your knees at the side of his head, you reached for his shoulders, gently but firmly shaking him awake.

“Will, hey, Will? Wake up, it’s just a nightmare, wake up please.” You shook him harder and he startled, hands shooting out to grab a hold of you. His eyes wild and distraught, they ran over your face a few times before recognition kicked in, and his grip on you relaxed. His shoulders still shuddering, he half dragged you onto the bed, and you let him drape your frame over his, his head finding solace in the place where your shoulder met your neck.

You could feel his warm breaths against your skin, still oddly paced, so you moved your hand to smooth over his back soothingly. “It was just a nightmare,” you reassured Will softly, thumb tracing circles over his nightshirt, “You’re safe now.”

“Right,” he murmured into your skin, and you shifted a little so your legs tangled together. Normally, the proximity between you two would have you blushing, but the only thing mattered to you at the moment was the welfare of your friend.

You kept murmuring kind affirmations to Will, some of which you weren’t sure were exactly true, but you wished you could make them so. The two of you lapsed into a quiet, uneasy silence, before you broke it, having to say something.

“You didn’t tell me you were still having nightmares.”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” Will said, pulling away from your neck so his words were clear. You couldn’t help but yearn for him to return, to feel the accidental brush of his hot lips on your skin when he spoke, but there was no time for that right now.

“So you lied?”

“I didn’t lie, exactly-”

“It was a lie by omission and you know it, Byers.”

He sighed quietly, the pads of his fingers gently sweeping from your shoulder to your hand, the movement rendering you speechless. What were you even talking about, again?

“I’m sorry,” you distantly heard Will say, but you couldn’t focus on it, because his treacherous, tantalising hand was making its journey back up your arm. 

In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. 

The thought freaked you out, and you scrambled out of his arms, feet finding the awaiting cold floor with a grimace. 

“Right, okay, I forgive you,” you stumbled over the words, hating yourself, because how could you even think about making a move on your friend, especially after an episode of such emotional distress? It was a manipulative, nasty thing to even consider, and you wanted to get out of his sight, “I’m going to go back to bed, then. Sorry.” 

“Wait, no, what?” You heard a rustle, and then felt Will’s hand on your wrist, holding you back. “Stay, please.”

You shook your head no, and Will’s frown deepened, his hand tugging you gently to the bed again. “Stay,” he repeated, firmer this time.

Your mind raced through potential excuses, settling on the first one that seemed most plausible. “Joyce,” you blurted, “Joyce wouldn’t be okay with us sharing the bed. Right?”

“Nonsense,” Will shot you down immediately, “She actually hates that you’re sleeping on the floor, makes her feel bad. She’d be fine. Unless,” he said, and you could see the anxiety growing in his eyes, “Unless it’s you who wouldn’t be fine with sharing. I’m sorry, you can go. I’m sorry I woke you up, it-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you spoke up immediately, “So quit apologising. It’s fine, really.”

“So you’ll stay, then?” he said, flashing you a small smile, and just like that, you were a goner. 

“Yeah,” you said quietly, imprinting the image of his growing smile into your brain, “Yeah, I’ll stay.”

[bylerforall]

you know what makes the it’s not my fault you don’t like girls scene even sadder?

will didn’t ask to play d&d at all after that for the rest of the season.

[booksandpaperss]

hey guess what Will’s gonna cry when Mike finds out the truth regardless of how Mike reacts bc even tho he tried to rip off the bandaid already he still loves Mike and wants Mike in his life, and he’s still so scared of Mike discovering how he feels despite wanting so badly to tell him bc for Will loosing Mike hurts too much. Anyways,

[luv4byers]

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 !

[heartsgettingwiser62]

Byler week day 3: Birthdaygate/Bylergates

Happy Birthday, Will!

Um. So. Hi :)

I'M SORRY OK. It's just- The theory where Vecna made everyone forget about Will's birthday but Will is by far my favorite Birthdaygate version. OBVIOUSLY I want, NEED Will to be happy, buuuut lets have the angst for a bit. Just a little while.

Anyways, I've been thinking about this for a long time and thought that if I was forced to live with this idea, y'all would be forced to see it too

So, happy birthday, Will!!!

[idyllghost]

First two WIPs of the night Michael Wheeler and Nancy Wheeler angst hehehehehe in which Mike dies (:<

In this screenshot we have Nancy grieving ft Will!! Oh you know I’m dragging him into it babes!!!

And this screenshot is a version where it’s just Nancy grieving but everything is the same (:<

These are both outlines/very rough first drafts but yeah

Oh I can’t forget the matching art piece I’m making for this lil fic!

[pyschologicalrocketgirl]

Jonny Bolduc, Ending

[bluebugjay]

Imagine Henry trying to turn Will against El and the others by showing him out of context memories from season 1 when Will was in the upside down. He shows them having fun and laughing and being amazed at El's powers and Lucas making fun of Mike for 'liking' her and Mike showing El all his toys and then him inviting her to the Snowball and kissing her and he shows him Joyce and El talking all spliced between shots of Will running and crying and curled up in a ball in the upside down. And all he can hear is Henry's voice telling him to look, look at how his friends don't care, look at how they replaced you, look how their lives just kept going whilst you suffered, look how eagerly she filled your spot. And Will's trying to fight it, he knows his Mom loves him, he knows his friends care, he knows El would never ever try to replace him but Vecna's in his head and the memories are real.

[byler-alarmist]

In this castle

Nothing's bad

Nothing's evil

Nothing's sad

Here in this castle

Here in this castle

Here in this castle

(The Green Pajamas, 1984)

[pariahsparadise]

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.

[robinswrld]

Waiting for Him, W. Byers.

# summary: he’s tired of being will byers, but you’ll always be there when he is. # pairing: will byers x male!reader # warnings: angst angst angst, homophobia (use of the word queer in a terrible way), lonnie byers && an extreme self-deprecating mindset # word count: 1.3k

💭cara’s thoughts: i’m really fucking sad, #willbyersdeservesbetter2022. anyways, this is kind of a reflection on my own thoughts so that’s kinda sad, but yeah. the title graphic is really misleading bc this is actually so sad. anywho, happy reading :)

he was sobbing.

again.

quietly, as usual, in his bedroom — praying to whatever the hell was out there that his brother wouldn’t hear.

jonathan wouldn’t notice, of course he wouldn’t, he never did. always high off his goddamn mind and giggling about the stupidest shit he had ever heard, hoping for once, his mind would be somewhere other than nancy wheeler.

not that he could blame him.

because he was doing the same thing.

his fingers shook as tired cries ripped through his body. why couldn’t he just stop?

will byers wasn’t sure how much of this secrecy he could take. the sinking feeling in the pits of his stomach every time he was in public and couldn’t so much as look in your direction the wrong way without being called a raging queer.

he couldn’t spill his guts into letters the way el did, mike wouldn’t care about his problems. he couldn’t speak a word of it to his mother without the accompanying nagging feeling, what if she turned into-?

he didn’t even want to finish his ridiculous thought. yes it was ridiculous, but a thought nonetheless.

truly, he shouldn’t have even put himself into a situation like this.

it seemed to be one of his flaws. in the wrong place at the wrong time.

if he had just taken another hallway his first day of school, he would have never caught your eye and dragged you into the mess that was his life.

god, the things he would do to go back in time.

maybe if he would’ve just stayed at the wheeler’s house that cold november day in 1983, his life, he, wouldn’t be the piece of shit it was today.

it had been three goddamn years.

three nightmare filled, blood ridden years that would stick with him until the day he died — which could be anytime, if he really thought about it.

no, he was safe now.

california would be good for him. for el, maybe even for jonathan.

he supposed it had been fair so far. he couldn’t say it was the worse time in his life. if he did, he would by lying.

and as el keeps reminding him, friends don’t lie.

every time those three words slipped out of her mouth, the pit of anxiety in his chest grew deeper. they chipped away at what was left of his cracked and raw skin. his bleeding heart was held loosely from his sleeve, becoming an open wound that bled a little harder every second of the day.

will wasn’t sure how much blood he had left to give.

but then again, he had so much to live for.

he had his mom, his heart and soul. she was there through everything and never once gave up on him.

he had jonathan. as much as he hated his sudden distancing, his brother wouldn’t give up on him either. no matter how loud and often he begged and pleaded for him to just leave him to rot in his stupid belittling thoughts.

he had el. while her lies became a tiring cycle, she would fight through thick and thin to make sure that he was okay.

and he had you. switching between being guilty and thankful about your abrupt entrance into his life, he knew for a fact he wouldn’t give you up for anything in the world.

you would squeeze every last drop of blood out of your body, if it meant he wouldn’t have to give more of his. you would slice one of the knives in his kitchen so deeply into your palm, with zero care, if it meant his life could go back to the way it was.

easy.

he wasn’t sure whether or not he was happy about it. you would lay your life down on the line if it meant that will could finally sleep peacefully, no matter what the consequences were.

he was almost angry that you were so wiling to give up yourself, so that he could continue to live his stupid, fucked up life.

what had he done to deserve it anyways?

as he curled in on himself, screaming multiple profanities in his head, a rhythmic knock sounded at his bedroom door.

furiously, he wiped at his cheeks; the soft tan littered in freckles, morphing into a deep red. his brown eyes, that once held sparkling glee, as bloodshot as if he submerged his face into a bucket of bleach.

he couldn’t open that door. not now.

“byers?”

the second your voice hit his ears, his receding tears made their way back into his waterline. he could hear the short conversation you had with his brother, the simple asking of “is will okay?”

god, he was sick of listening to that question.

a few minutes later, just when he thought you finally gave up and left, the knock came again, “will?”

this time, however, the knob twisted gently and your concerned face entered his line of vision. he turned quickly, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he possibly could.

the bed dipped beside him, “i missed you today.”

right. earlier that morning, he slouched out of his room into jonathan’s with an embarrassingly unconvincing cough, claiming he was sick. running from his problems, again.

“how are you feeling, my love?”

my love, his stomach churned painfully. he didn’t deserve this kind of treatment, you were too good for him.

will couldn’t even muster a hum. he was pathetic.

maybe his father was right. he was just a pitiful queer, useless to this world and the next. his friends didn’t care, they used him, just like he said they would.

his sobs became louder. he didn’t mean them to erupt like this. not when you were in the room.

you should’ve made him happy, not sad. not angry.

deciding against using words, you simply lay beside him carefully, swinging your arm over his waist.

it took every bone in his body not to curl into your touch. instead, he switched to his instincts, pushing you by your elbow off of him.

he didn’t deserve comfort.

his knees rose to his chest as he clutched them like a child. a baby. like his life depended on not letting them go. with his cries muffled by his jeans, he hoped and prayed you would understand to leave him alone. to just go ahead and pack up your things and walk out the door like everyone else did.

you didn’t.

why’d you have to be so good.

he fought harshly against the urge to turn around and beg you to hug him. kiss him. touch him. do something. but it seemed his heart didn’t want to listen.

because the second he flipped back around, you were there waiting for him.

will froze.

his wide pupils stared up at you. his eyes burned with unshed tears until he willed himself to blink and they came slipping down his face.

“i’m sorry.” his throat finally cleared, finally opened, and those were the words he chose.

pathetic.

you leaned down, pulling him gently into an embrace.

he shook uncontrollably, slipping away from the corrupt judgement of his mind and into you.

you were always there. always.

you told him he was perfect, that he deserved every ounce of love this cruel place could offer. you gave that to him. you said there was nothing wrong with who he was, it was the world that was wrong.

“i’m sorry, i’m so sorry.”

will byers was a liar. he lied to everyone. his mom, his brother, his sister, his friends.

they didn’t know about what he was.

surely, they would hate him for what he did.

but not you.

he wasn’t even sure you were capable of hating him.

because you had assured him, so many times, that you loved him more than you loved yourself. more than you loved anything.

that was, against all odds, what kept will byers alive.

you’d always be waiting for him.

[kuumara]

Hands

Will can feel being stalked by Vecna. He knows when he's there. Even when he isn't completely controlling Will, he's there. In the back of his mind.

Will knows this because he's constantly freezing. He recognizes that cold- he's experienced it when he was first possessed. Back then, however, that cold eased the pain of knowing he's there. If Will did what he wanted, he wouldn't hurt him. If Will stayed cold, he wouldn't hurt anyone- at least that's what he was telling him.

Right now, however, he hates the cold. If he tries to warm himself, he starts hurting. Vecna has a hold on him that prevents him from not hurting. So, he stays shivering.

Mike really hates seeing Will like that. And knowing he can't help- if he offers Will his coat, Will's throat starts aching. If he puts a blanket over him, he gets ridiculous body aches. And so on and so forth.

Mike and Will are listening to the radio signals, lying on the carpet in the Wheelers' living room. It's the closest thing they've got to music now- the radios don't work, the walk-man's are destroyed. So they listen to static in silence and let it flood their brain, eradicating every thought.

Will starts shivering. It's nothing new, but it hurts Mike all the same every time it happens. He puts his hand on Will's- it's freezing. Will just looks at him. He doesn't start aching or coughing or anything like that.

So, Mike scoots closer to where Will is laying. Even closer than they were before. Will is still just looking at him.

"Does it hurt?" He asks. And squeezes Will's hand in his, referring to it.

"...No. It's nice." Will quietly responds. Mike can see redness on his ears. Maybe just from how cold he is. He doesn't want Will to be so cold his ears start freezing. He rolls over to laying on his stomach and supporting himself with elbows, looking at Will. He puts his hands over Will's ears and cheeks. He's never really noticed how big his hands have gotten during the apocalypse.

Will stays unmoving. Again no aching. Just more redness coming to his face.

Oh. He's blushing. Mike is, in a weird way, proud of himself. He feels warm. He feels like this should be the part where he retracts his hands from Will's face and end the moment, except he doesn't want to do that. He would rather stay like this forever. He's wanted to stay like this forever since God knows how long. With Will forever.

Mike smiles. He feels giddy all of a sudden, being so close to Will and seeing that he's okay with it. That maybe he's thinking what Mike's thinking.

Wait- when have they even gotten so close? Mike's nose is already brushing Will's. But Will's smiling back, genuinely. So it's alright, isn't it?

"I don't like seeing you hurt. Are you feeling warmer? Or am I just hurting you but you're not showing it because you're too nice?" Mike asks after a while of them just watching each other. Closely.

"Yeah- no ,you're not hurting me. Don't worry." Will clears his throat quietly. "...You're the opposite of hurting me." He adds, even more quietly.

But Mike hears it. He hears everything. Since they're so close. And Mike likes what he's hearing. He gets even closer to Will, slowly pressing his forehead against his and his nose next to his. But he wants to get even closer. He wants to touch Will's soul, he wants to feel Will's feelings, he wants to experience his thoughts.

"...Is this alright, Will?" he asks. He wants Will to opposite of hurt because of him, so he has to make sure.

Will nods, with a dazed look in his eyes. His hands are on Mike's now. They're a lot warmer than they were before. And Will has a lot more color to him than he had before. Mike's breath catches.

Will angles his head a bit so his lips are touching Mike's. Mike feels like he's going to melt.

Will hums. "You're... the opposite of hurting me right now." And smiles, still dazedly. Mike can't help anything anymore and kisses Will.

[cringengl]

Will feeling guilty for liking Mike because it's "wrong" and "dirty" but feeling unable to hide it not only because he's so full of love that he doesn't know what to do with it all but also because everyone already knew he was gay before he did, so they probably already know that he's in love with Mike....