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.
