Stranger Things - Imagines

Billy Hargrove X Reader - Working Bitch

Billy had taken the hint, heading out of the shop, but not without slipping a crisp $5 note into the tip jar on the counter first. He sent you a quick wave before dipping out the door, and part of you hoped that maybe he'd keep his distance.

But alas, Billy Hargrove was far too persistent to let it slide so easily. Clearly, at some point, he'd rubbed you up the wrong way, and now he wanted to figure out exactly what he had done to make you hate him. 

So, he'd come strolling into The Perfect Blend again the next day, at the exact same time. "Hey," he started, sending you his sweetest smile. "Can I get a Flat White please?" he started, his eyes darting away from you to roam over the selection of sweet treats on display. "Damn, those look good," he added. "I'll take one of the Pumpkin Cinamon muffins, too," he told you, fishing his wallet out of his pocket. 

"That'll be $4.25," you told him, tapping the numbers into the register and waiting patiently as he held out a $10 note. 

"Did I break up with one of your friends?" he uttered, watching as your brow furrowed.

"What?"

"Is that why you hate me?" he pressed on. "Did I sleep with a friend of yours and hurt her feelings or something?"

You scoffed slightly, handing him back his change, which he immediately dropped into the tip jar. "None of my friends were stupid enough to go anywhere near you," you bit out, moving away to make his drink. "They didn't want to risk catching something-"

His snort of laughter interrupted you. "That was probably a good shout, to be honest. I didn't really know what I was doing back then." He paused for a moment, watching you work. "So, how'd you get around to working here?"

"I own this place," you uttered, not really wanting to discuss your business plans with a man you claimed to hate. 

"Wow," he breathed out. "That's impressive. You been doing this long?"

You finally glanced up at him, and he actually looked interested. Like, he looked like he actually cared about what your answer to his question was. "I opened a couple of months back. Been saving up for the downpayment for about 7 years, though. Took some business classes at Hawkins community after High School."

"Christ, you must have the patience of a saint," he murmured. "Can't imagine wanting something so bad that I was willing to wait that long for it."

You shrugged. "I've wanted to own my own cafe since I was 12," you murmured. "What's a couple more years at that point?"

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his head tilting to the side slightly. "It's nice that you like what you do," he told you, watching you straighten up slightly, remembering who you were talking to. 

"Your coffee," you told him, placing it down in front of him, with his muffin. "Have a good day."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he told you, sending you a bright smile as he made his way outside.

True to his word, Billy had come in again the next day. And the day after that. And again, the day after that, too. Actually, he'd come in every day for the next week, always sending you his sweetest smile and leaving a far too generous tip. 

"So," he asked one morning, tapping the counter whilst you made his drink. "Are you ever going to tell me why you hated me in High School?"

"I thought I made it very clear that I hated you because you were an asshole," you hummed, shooting him a quick smile when he snorted.

"Yeah, but there had to be more to it than that, right? You don't hate someone that much just because they're a bit of an asshole-"

"A bit?" you snorted. "Billy, you were a grade-A prick. You spent half of your time terrorising the other kids at school and the other half trying to fuck any hot girl you came across."