Stranger Things with reader insert
Steve Harrington × reader(17 year old)
Arlo Harrington(OC) × reader(13 year old)
Season - 1 - completed ✅️
Season - 2 - completed✅️
This book is written from the perspectives of two readers: a 13-year-old and a 17...
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"What if Will doesn't have to use words?
Y/N POV:
I stepped out of the car, noticing that the door to the Byers' house was wide open. My dad and I exchanged a glance before cautiously entering. Inside, we were greeted by My mom, Hopper and Joyce.
"Hey, sweetie," Joyce greeted me warmly.
"Hey, kid," Hopper chimed in.
"Hi," I smiled back at them, shivering slightly. "It's freezing in here. What happened?"
"Can you guys tell us what's going on now?" my dad interjected, his tone serious.
"I have been asking the same question," Hopper said. Joyce and mom exchanged looks before gesturing for us to follow them. We trailed behind them as they led us to Will's room. Joyce knocked gently on the door before entering.
"Knock knock. You have some visitors," she announced softly.
Inside, Will sat with his back to us, gazing out the window. He was wearing pajama pants but no shirt.
"So, this thing, this shadow thing. He told your mom it likes it like this. It likes it cold?" Hopper inquired as he took a seat, with me sitting next to Will and my mom sitting next to me. My dad settled next to Hopper.
"Yeah," Will muttered.
"How do you know that?" Hopper pressed further.
"I just know," Will replied hesitantly.
"Does he talk to you?" my dad asked.
"No. It's like... I don't have to think. I just know things now. Things I never did before," Will stuttered, his words trailing off uncertainly.
"And what else do you know?" Dad pressed, his tone gentle yet firm.
"It's hard to explain," Will mumbled, tears beginning to well up in his eyes. I reached out, grabbing his hand and rubbing it gently to ease his nerves.
"It's like old memories in the back of my head, only they're not my memories. I mean, I don't think they're old memories at all. They're... now-memories, happening all at once now," Will struggled to articulate, his voice trembling with emotion.
"Can you describe these now-memories?" Dad asked gently.
"I don't know, it's hard to explain," Will stuttered, his frustration evident, while I tried to comfort him, attempting to read his thoughts, but encountering some sort of mental barrier.
"I know it's hard, but can you try? For us? Y/n can help you, okay? Just try," Joyce interjected softly, her voice filled with compassion.
"Will, I'm here, okay? I can understand you," I reassured him, prompting a nod from him.
