Stranger Things - Imagines

Billy Hargrove X Plus-sized!Reader - Paradise

A/N - This chapter was written whilst I listened to the song Panic Attacks in Paradise by Ashnikko. It's one of those songs that resonates a little bit too much and I've been wanting to use it for some time now, so I hope you all enjoy it.

Trigger Warning: This chapter mentions bullying and anxiety, and contains some self-deprecating, body-negative comments.

Part of you had always assumed that when you met someone who you really, truly loved, the pain would all disappear. It happened in the fairy tales. The guy got the girl and it always worked out fine in the end. 

Sadly, that wasn't exactly the case in the real world. Sure, you loved Billy. You loved him more than you could ever put into words. But it hadn't fixed anything. It hadn't made you forget the trauma that had always been lingering in your life. If anything, it had made everything harder. 

When he told you that you were beautiful, it made you feel sick. You'd spent years being picked on for how you looked. Years of being teased for your appearance by the kids at school, and even longer being told how much prettier you could be if you just lost a little bit of weight at home. It was impossible to believe that he saw beauty when he looked at you because you just couldn't see it for yourself. You could spend hours in front of the mirror and not find a single thing you liked about your reflection. 

It always seemed harder when he asked you to come to parties with him. At least when you were at home, it was only him pretending. But when you were around his friends, you could see the looks they would give you. They couldn't see the beauty either, though none of them was brave enough to say it for him to hear. 

You hovered in front of the mirror, running your hands down your hips, smoothing down the skirt of the dress you'd bought for the night out. It was pretty, it really was, but you couldn't help but think you looked ridiculous. This was the kind of dress that skinny girls would wear. Not something that you should ever wear out. 

You were just about to slip out of it and into something less clingy when Billy knocked on your bedroom door, poking his head around it to grin at you. 

"Wow," he murmured, his eyes roaming over you, making you wince as he continued smiling. "This is a really pretty dress," he told you, moving further into the room, eyes still drifting over your body. 

"I was just about to change-"

"What? Why?" he interrupted, brow furrowing as he finally looked up at your face, seeing the soft frown pulling at your lips. "Do you not like it?"

You hesitated for a moment, your fingers splaying out over your stomach. "It doesn't fit right," you murmured, swallowing down the lump forming in your throat. "I'd rather just wear something else-"

"Oh, okay." He paused for a moment, still watching your less than enthusiastic expression as you pulled at the fabric, straightening it out slightly. "It does look beautiful on you, though. But then again, everything does."

You let out a small scoff, shaking your head as you moved back to your wardrobe, filing through the hangers in search of something a little more comfortable. 

"What was that little noise?" he hummed, moving up behind you, his hands resting on your hips. "You're a goddamn sex bomb, no matter what you're wearing. Drop. Dead. Gorgeous," he reaffirmed, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder to punctuate each word.

"Cut it out," you bit at him, shrugging him off of you. "That's not funny."

Billy stayed quiet for a moment, so close behind you that you could feel his breath tickling the back of your neck. "What's the supposed to mean?"