wallywrites

[wallywrites]

my beloved

one (ao3)

Neil was seven the first time he felt it. He was used to pain, accustomed to it by this stage, the feeling of a weight pushing him down and down, suffocating him, his arms and chest and head too heavy, his flesh and bones burning and ripping and scarring. Pain was something he knew all too well. But the pressure he felt deep in his gut and down in between his legs was something that he was too young to even understand, let alone comprehend feeling. And it hurt and ached in a way that he never did before, in a way that left him sobbing quietly into his pillow as his body shook from the pain, his heart aching in his chest equally as bad.

It was a strange feeling for him, pain being unusual, something he could understand. For Neil had known pain his whole life. But this, this was something else, something too harsh and deep and heavy, something he wished he would never feel again.

That was the day his mother explained to him what a soulmate was (barely, briefly, and in a way that left Neil with many, many questions he would never get the answer to), and even at the age of seven, Neil already knew it was a stupid, completely ridiculous idea, and cursed whoever was responsible for it. Mary never explained what that feeling meant, just that his soulmate was hurting somewhere. But it didn’t take Neil long to figure out what that pressure was, and what exactly was happening to his soulmate.

But that didn’t matter, because as Mary had said, and physically engraved into Neil’s brain - they couldn’t afford to spend their time worrying about things they can’t have. A soulmate was a pipe dream, someone that would only distract Neil and get him killed, and any time Neil would even think about his soulmate, his mother would beat those thoughts straight from his head.

So, even after they ran, escaping his father, he stayed quiet and kept to himself every time he felt that familiar burn, that familiar ache, that familiar pressure. Continued to ignore it when the pain got worse when worse, when it moved to small slashes on his forearms and thighs, ignoring the feeling that would erupt in his chest every time it happened, pretending that the dread and excruciating need to protect wasn’t made prominent factors of his life every time his soulmate was in pain. Pretended it wasn’t there, that it didn’t matter. Pretended it didn’t cause his stomach to drop and his heart to ache every time it would occur.

And then the nightmares started happening; a gateway into his soulmates mind, visions of what was happening around them at that given time. Most of the time he only saw darkness, as his mother explains it to him being due to his soulmate sleeping at the same time as him. But on the very rare occasion, he would see and feel exactly what was happening to his soulmate. He would see hands grabbing and pulling and hurting, in different ways than his fathers ever did to him. And then he no longer had to imagine what that pressure or ache was, knowing exactly what was happening to cause them. Images he thinks he would never be able to forget.

But he tired his best to ignore those too. Because he knew better. He knew it was dangerous, allowing someone to mean that much to him. His mother had made that very clear, reminding him over and over again what she is forced to do for him, what she is forced to sacrifice to keep him safe. The burden of letting someone mean something to you. As if it was his fault. As if he wanted to be here at all.

But sometimes, when he was particularly tired, or just feeling more alone than usual, he allowed his thoughts to wonder. Only for a moment, he would tell himself. Of course, they never only lasted a moment. The idea of having a soulmate still sounded ridiculously stupid to him, but.. the idea that somewhere out there, there was someone who understood Neil more than anyone else ever would, made him feel so calm, so seen. And somehow, Neil found solace in that.

And that thought became his new motivation, after he had to bury his mother in California. To survive, not only for himself, but for his soulmate. A sudden determination to prevent his soulmate from feeling any more unnecessary pain. For he couldn’t protect his soulmate from their demons, but he sure as hell could try to protect them from his own.

It was still hard, of course. He was Nathanial Wesi— Neil Josten, after all. Pain was his life, and he always did have a bad mouth and horrific temper that got him into more trouble than he would like to admit. Because somehow his mother could never manage to beat those habits out of him, no matter how hard she tried to.

And then on the other days, when his arms started to burn and sting for no apparent reason, he felt the crippling urge to grab a sharp object and drag it across his own skin, his own demented form of what he thought could be comfort for his soulmate, telling them that he is here, and he understands.

And then there were other days like this, days where he was hidden up in an abandoned house, wet carpet and mouldy wallpaper causing his stomach to churn as he held his body close, that he couldn’t help but feel the longing of being with them, whoever they may be. And he felt stupid for wanting it, for wanting something he could never have, with someone who he has never met.

And so he allowed himself that one moment of weakness to thaw out the sting in his heart, allowing himself to rest just for a moment in hopes to catch and glimpse at his soulmate.

He hadn’t felt that same pressure and pain from his soulmate in a while, which he hated himself for being grateful for. But sometimes, if he fell into a deep enough sleep while his soulmate was still awake, he could still see images and scenes flashing through his head behind his closed eyes. The only thing that is able to make Neil feel safe anymore, despite his internal struggle with the thought.

And more and more recently, Neil felt himself doing that more often. Trying desperately for any way to feel something other than his own anxieties and heart thumping against his rib cage. Pretending he doesn’t wake up feeling good and safe after watching his soulmate do nothing particularly interesting, nothing more than just being there, safe, alive.

But often, when they both sleep at the same time, Neil dreamt of the nightmares that his soulmate had, the same hands grabbing and scratching and pulling and — those are the nights Neil wakes up drenched in sweat, his body aching and shaking as he tried to calm himself down.

The first thing he sees when he falls asleep now, is the flash of sliver in his eyes, light reflecting off of a small knife his soulmate often found themselves playing with. Wherever his soulmate was now, it was daytime, the sun high in the sky above them. They sat on the roof of a building, legs dangling over the edge, moving the knife around in his grip as he glanced out towards the ground, before his vision moved to look at the buildings that stretched far out from where he sat, his eyes focusing on the trees that seemed to be surrounding him.

Neil didn’t know much about his soulmate. He thinks that his soulmate is a man, given by their large strong hands he often gets to stare at, but that’s no guarantee of gender. He knows his soulmate is short, whenever they are around anyone else they always seems to be looking up. And he knows what is hidden underneath those black armbands they always seem to be wearing, despite never having seen it for himself. But he felt it, every single one, for long enough to know that they must have scarred.

Neil could feel his soulmate breathe out as smoke surrounded him instantly, a slight burn to his lungs telling Neil that they were smoking, which somehow only soothed the ache in Neil’s chest more.

Neil had been here before, many times. His soulmate often found themselves up on this roof, staring out to the ground below, watching and listening and waiting. For what, Neil wasn’t sure. But it did good to calm him down.

He could never place where he was, though. A university was the only viable option he had managed to come up with, the building surrounding him looking like campus of some kind. Where he had no idea, and often wished his soulmate would give him a sign, anything to hint at where he might be.

He wasn’t sure how long he spent stuck in his dream, and he would never admit that he enjoyed being surrounded by his soulmate, sharing the silent moment together, but eventually, and disappointingly, Neil woke up, still feeling his soulmates fingers tapping on the pulse at his neck. He couldn’t help but bring his own hand up, pressing his thumb into his pulse to feel his heart slow down to its normal rhythm.

A groan escaped him as he finally pushed himself up, stretching out his arms and back, his shoulders popping from the force. His body ached from the way he had fallen asleep, and when he looked outside, the sun was beginning to set.

Neil sighed out, already feeling less warm and wholly more empty, pushing himself up onto his feet and silently heading towards the door.

He didn’t travel that often at night time, not wanting his soulmate to potentially see anything incriminating. Because as much as he knew he wanted to find his soulmate, to be with them, he knew he couldn’t. That, choosing that wasn’t even an option.

Because not only would it put Neil at risk, but it would put his soulmate at risk too. And, despite all his denial, Neil already knew that he broke his mothers biggest rule. That, despite years and years of her abuse, he still somehow managed to ignore it all. Because as much as he hated it, he knew he cared. But that also meant he cared enough to stay away.

So, instead, he would have to survive purely off of the small, quiet, safe moments he can have inside his soulmates head, only allowing himself to live in the bliss of who should have been his, and who was meant to be his for a short moment before reality came crashing back down towards him.

It wasn’t comforting, and it most likely did more damage than it did good, but it was his. The only thing he will ever let himself hold on to. And once he finally accepted the longing and pining and empty feeling he gets when he thinks of the one he couldn’t have, he allowed himself to hold onto those moments, those feelings. Knowing they will never be anything more than that, but needing them. Needing to feel something other than dread, and loss, and pain. Needing his soulmate, in more ways than he ever thought he would.

~

Andrew could feel him the moment he arrived, the small hum at the back of his head a tell-tale of when his soulmate was there, watching, listening. He came often, always at weird times of the day, and Andrew always tried his best not to care, to be indifferent about the whole thing. But, every time his soulmate would appear, his chest warmed and his stomach clenched and his breath hitched and-- well, it made Andrew feel more human than he’s ever felt in his life.

But he hated that. Feeling. Good or bad, feelings were dangerous. Soulmates were dangerous, especially for people like Andrew.

And he knew that his soulmate understood pain. He could feel it, every time something scratched and cut and burned at his skin. Has even seen the scars left over on his soulmates body, all big and deep and harsh and long and-

Andrew made a habit of pushing those thoughts deep, deep into the back of his mind, for him to never unpack or think about again. Of course, it never worked. Because even when he wasn’t inside his soulmates head, he could still see them, clear as day. A downfall to his eidetic memory, never being able to unsee them after he did.

He didn’t mean to. Stupidly fell asleep after a particularly long class, his mind instantly appearing at the back of his soulmates head. Only stayed long enough to watch the lean boy patch up another ridiculously deep looking scar on the side of his stomach, his reflection in the mirror covered in raised flesh and fresh blood. Andrew didn’t know how he forced himself awake, but he’s thankful that he did.

Andrew didn’t see his face. Didn’t want to see his face. Didn’t want to see the boy who was meant to be his, and would never admit it, but he was scared of what he would find. Because he knew scars, and he knew shitty parents, and he knew bad childhoods, but that.. and those scars.. and he-

He couldn’t think about it. Not without his whole being shaking with rage. He’d been working hard with Bee, to try and push down those negative, explosive emotions that always got him in trouble.

He could feel his heart begin to thrash harder against his chest, his soulmate still a pressure in the back of his mind as he lifted his hand, pressing his finger into his neck, tapping on his pulse every time it moved until it slowed down, settled.

Bee always said it was normal, to feel these sorts of things for someone you involuntarily care so much about. Not that he would ever admit he cared about his soulmate. He didn’t have time to unpackage that.

Nicky was just happy that Andrew was feeling anything, which, okay, he gets it. Andrew was.. bad. He knows he was bad, when the drugs took over his system. He knew he was bad once they were gone, too. But Andrew and getting better and feelings never really seemed to go well together. Because life didn’t work like that.

He lost track of time like that, eyes staring out onto campus below, but not really paying attention, finger tapping against the pulse on his neck, mind most definitely not thinking about his stupid soulmate and his stupid scars. Only realised how long he had sat there, filling his lungs with smoke and his head with thought about anything else, when the pressure in the back of his head simmered out and disappeared, his chest tightening against his will at the loss.

That only made him angrier as he flicked his cigarette off the side of the building, lighting another one up in an instant.

It was the one thing he hated most about his soulmate. He hated the fact that someone at all, let alone someone he hadn’t even met, had so much control over him and his emotions. Hated that this scarred, broken boy can cause him to feel so much more than he ever has felt before, just by being there in the back of his mind. Hated how his body reacted to him, how his body wanted him. Hated the fact that someone else and any control over him at all.

Nicky had tried numerous times to convince Andrew that is wasn’t a bad thing, that it wasn’t dangerous. But it was a lost cause.

Sure, Nicky and Erik seemed stupidly happy together, and now that Aaron has found Katelyn, he has become only slightly more tolerable than before. Though, Andrew thought that was only because he spent more of his time with her, and therefore away from Andrew.

But then his mind thinks back to his parents, soulmates, who couldn’t even bother to stay together when Aaron and him were born. To all the soul-mated parents he had while in the foster care system, who had given up on him just because he was hard, and difficult. Who had given up on each other, because it was hard, and difficult. Thought of his soulmates parents, who Andrew had witnessed hurting him on many occasions. Who had hurt each other many times, too, letting their child watch from the side-lines, terrified that he was going to be next and -

No. Soulmates were nothing but dangerous. Andrew knew it was true, and wouldn’t let anyone convince him otherwise.

A sigh escaped him as the sun began to set. He finished up his cigarette, flicking it back over the edge again as he pushed himself up. He stood on the ledge for a moment, thumb pressing back into his pulse at his neck one last time, before heading inside.

[wallywrites]

Y'know what, fuck this bullshit. I need to know y'all are actually against it.

Reblog this if you will NOT use or support Post+.

I hope to make @staff see how that is total bullshit. Tumblr will die without writers/creators.

[wallywrites]

some very important info re: paid accounts~

I am not a lawyer, but I can decently interpret legalese and, being as I also suffer from tl;dr syndrome and assume others may as well, I took one for the team and went through the updated TOS for the post+ accounts and highlighted (what I understand to be) the most pertinent information, which ultimately comes down to this:

You cannot monetize copyrighted works (aka charge and earn money from fanfic, fanworks, etc) and if you do decide to put your fanworks behind a paywall via Tumblr, when you are inevitably sued, Tumblr will not protect you and will not defend you and you alone, personally, will be responsible for whatever monetary damages said lawsuit results in.

If anyone is a lawyer and knows I've gotten any of this wrong, please do not hesitate to correct me/this post.

Screenshots taken from Tumblr's TOS (updated 7-21-21), Stripe's Account Agreement, and the post+ FAQs.

1. Your paid account will not be hosted by tumblr; it is routed through a 3rd party.

2. By signing up for a paid account, you're entering into an agreement with Stripe, so in addition to Tumblr's TOS, you are also bound to Stripe's TOS.

3. Stripe, like Tumblr, will not defend you or protect you against any lawsuits.

4. Furthermore, you may end up owing Stripe money (indemnify = compensate)

5. Tumblr's TOS specifically states that you can't put any content on your post+ account that violates any laws, including laws that protect intellectual property rights of others. This is super important, because Tumblr's post+ FAQ also states that you can post anything that you would regularly post on tumblr, which I'm sure many will take to mean that gifsets, fanworks, etc are fair game, since all of that stuff can be posted on tumblr now. However, the difference is, you're not making money from the fanworks you're posting or reblogging now. Once money enters the equation, the game changes.

Tumblr is making it seem like any and all content goes for post+ accounts, knowing 90% of this site is fanworks. This is not true and you'll be opening yourself up for lawsuits if you charge for fanworks.

6. Tumblr further disclaims any and all liability in any legal issues.

tl;dr: Please do not make a post+ account, bc you will be opening yourself to lawsuits and if that happens, Tumblr's response will be not our problem, you agreed to all the terms which said you couldn't do that, sorry not sorry. Please protect yourself.

[wallywrites]

(tw - slight depictions of: self harm, death, depression, unhealthy habits, habits that could turn into an eating disorder, ptsd, trauma)

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28720992

part one / ? (but you can still read it as a stand alone)

Steve never cared much for Christmas. It was just another holiday to remind him of how alone he really was, how much his parents didn’t care, how much his friends could do better. Just another holiday to remind him who he was, an echo of the words he’s heard many times coming to life, proof that he was, and will forever be, alone. 

But then he had Billy, holding his hand, and brushing his fingers through his hair, and kissing him on the good days and the bad nights, and holding him, and loving him, even when he couldn’t love himself. And he wasn’t so alone anymore. 

And suddenly, like the flash of brightness when lightning strikes, Christmas was his favourite holiday. Suddenly, he loved the smell of gingerbread, because it reminded him of Christmas dinner at the Byers, surrounded by his friends, his real family, his Billy. Suddenly mistletoe wasn't just a plant. Suddenly, opening presents didn’t mean sitting by an empty tree, drinking his sorrows away with his fathers alcohol collection, and instead meant watching the kids’ faces light up with every new comic book or t-shirt they received, the laughter of the older kids and the parents at their reactions. 

Suddenly it meant Billy pulling him away from the chaos, away where there was quiet, where it was just them, before giving him his heart, his soul, his love. His mother’s necklace, the most important thing to him before he met Steve. 

And suddenly the snowy days, days he thought he would never learn to love, soon became his favourite, where he could spend it cuddled up next to Billy, under a blanket and by a fireplace, whispering sweet nothings to each other until they fell asleep, contempt, happy, in love. Together.

Suddenly, Christmas meant love, and family, and warmth, and everything Steve thought it should be, expected it to be. Suddenly he had that, suddenly he had all he ever could have wanted. And he was happy, he was so fucking happy to have that, to have what he thought he never would, what he thought he didn’t deserve. 

But that all changed, too fast and too suddenly, like the moment in between awake and sleep, where you don’t really remember how one thing lead to another. Can’t recall the moment, can’t recognise the difference between awake and sleep, but then suddenly it’s the next morning, and everything from the night before, from the time between then and now, is all just a memory, a blur in your mind in which you can never truly remember. That’s what it felt like to lose Billy. 

One moment he was there, and Steve could remember it all so vividly, like he never left. The way he smiled whenever Steve would say something stupid, or how tight he would hold him at night, scared that he would be gone by the time he woke up. The way his eyes would gleam and his smile would soften whenever Billy thought Steve wasn’t paying attention, that Steve wouldn’t notice the longing, loving stare Billy always seemed to have when it came to him. The way Billy was so gentle, so careful with Steve, his hands, his words, his lips.

But then, within another moment, he was gone, like a dream you can’t quite remember, a name on the tip of your tongue you can’t quite reach, the feeling of knowing but not having, the feeling of losing, but not realising. He was gone, so fast, all at once, but the feeling of it still so slow, like noticing your ice has melted, wondering how long has it been melted for? When did it melt? When did he go?

And that time in between was a foreign concept to Steve, something he tried hopelessly to remember, to understand, but just couldn’t seem to grasp enough of it to hold on to. And that’s what hurt the most, what haunted him more than anything else. And suddenly, he hated Christmas again. 

And the ache, the pain he felt was almost unbearable. Something he’s never felt before, something he never expected to experience, not yet, not now, not like this. A heartbreak worse than a heartbreak, too harsh and too sudden, a sting, and a burn, and an ache worse than what those Russians ever did to him. Worse than what his parents ever did to him, what Nancy ever did to him. And it was heavy, a deep feeling within his chest and his stomach and his head and his heart. And it burned and burned and cut and gnawed at him until there was nothing left. Nothing but an empty shell of the boy he once was, so naïve and unloved and alone. A fire burning in his soul, getting hotter and deeper, until everything that once was Steve Harrington was now reduced to nothing more than ash.

And no one understood, how much it affected Steve, no one really. Their relationship was a secret, something they shared behind closed doors, in the dark, when no one was paying attention, when no one bothered to look, to notice. Max was the closest to understanding the pain, losing her brother, not realising how much she actually cared, how much Billy had meant to her until it was too late, until he was gone. Steve remembered Max crying to him, head buried into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist, worried that Billy didn’t know how much she cared, that she did love him. Devastated that she never told him how she felt, that she couldn't even say goodbye to his body.

That was the hardest part, Steve thought. Not being able to say goodbye, to see him one last time, to tell him that he loved him. They never found his body, but they didn’t expect to, not after everything that happened to all the others. But that didn’t stop Steve from looking, every day, every night, desperate to find something, anything. It wasn’t until Joyce found him, lying almost dead in the cold one winter night, that he knew it was over, that he needed to stop. He didn’t remember much from that night, except sobbing into Joyce as she held him, letting him cry it all out, telling him that it was going to be okay. He didn’t believe it, couldn’t, but for one moment he let himself be fooled, let himself pretend that she was right, that it would all be okay. But somewhere deep down, where the fire still burned away at what was left of him, he knew it wouldn’t get better, that he would never be the same. Not again, not after Billy.

That’s how he felt now, the week before Christmas. It had been a year since everything happened, but Steve felt more alone than he ever had. He knew it was his own fault, pushing people away tends to do that. He learnt that from his parents, but despite how much he despised them for it, he couldn’t help it, isolating himself off from the outside world, from anyone that cared about him. Because he didn’t see the point anymore. 

But that didn’t stop a few of them from checking in on him every now and again. Joyce and Jonathan brining him a homecooked meal at least once a week, Hopper stopping by every now and again to make sure he’s doing okay, Dustin trying always to get Steve to hang out, Robin breaking in to his house to just be there, to help him feel less alone. Max was the only person Steve really found himself letting in, opening up to, but he still didn’t speak much. Didn’t have the energy to, not anymore. 

And he had some good days, some days where he would laugh at one of Robin’s stupid jokes, or where Dustin and Max would convince him to have a shower, and go out with them to the movies or the arcade, or where he would eat a little more than usual, causing Joyce to smile in hope that it was helping, that he was getting better. Days where Jonathan would just sit with him, be with him, telling him stories until he actually found himself falling asleep for the first time in weeks, found peace and solace for a moment before his brain turned back on and he remembered. But the bad outweighed the good on most days, and a day didn’t go by where he wasn’t thinking of him. Of his Billy.

And the nightmares, and the terrors plagued most of his nights, and the constant waking up drenched in his own sweat, screaming and crying out for Billy had him so tired, so fucking exhausted that it would keep him awake longer than his body was able to be. Keep him awake until he was throwing up from exhaustion and passing out on the floor, because he couldn’t physically stand anymore.

And it was hard, no one understanding what was happening. Most of them thought it was just how he was coping, with the trauma of everything that happened; the mind flayer, the demo-dogs, the Russians, Starcourt. Any normal person would go clinically insane after everything that Steve or any of the others went through, so it wasn’t unusual for them to think that what had happened must’ve broken him, caused a mental break, caused him to go insane. Robin knew it was deeper than that, the only one knowing that Steve even liked guys. He never told her about Billy, but she was smart, and it wasn’t hard for her to figure out why Steve was breaking so much. But she never spoke of it, didn’t want to make it worse for him, wanted to help him forget.

There was a point where they didn’t think it could get worse. But apparently for Steve, crying every night, not eating in weeks, refusing to speak to everyone wasn't his worst, wasn't his ultimate low. No, his ultimate low involved his wrist, and any sharp object he could find, because at least then he was feeling something.

But then one night, while he was sat on his bed, staring at the wall, no energy to sleep but no energy to do anything else, the hairs on his arms stood up, the white noise around him freezing in time. And that’s when he heard it. A sound he thought he would never hear again, one that brought tears to his eyes, held more memories than he thought he had. A noise that was wholly Billy. Thick and dark and heavy, the revving on an engine, of his engine. A ‘79 Chevrolet Camaro, the same one Billy drove into the school parking lot his first day, the same one they shared their first kiss in, the same one that was completely and entirely Billy, all violent and charming and dangerous and his. 

The same ‘79 Chevrolet Camaro lost a year ago. 

And Steve couldn’t explain the feeling, couldn’t organise his thoughts, process what was happening. All he knew is that, that sound, that feeling, was his. Was his Billy. A feeling he’s wished for, ached for, longed for, for so long, a feeling just out of reach. And somehow, now, he knew all the answers, knew exactly what was happening, what it meant, what he needed to do. 

And he breathed for the first time, in what seemed like months, and he felt his heart in his ears and his pulse thumping in his head. 

And suddenly, he didn’t feel like crying anymore.

[wallywrites]

So I was thinking that if I was Billy I would probably hate being called by my last name, because that would associate me with the monster that is Neil Hargrove, so I hope you enjoy this short fic! (Sorry it’s so short, I’m in the middle of writing my exams RIP but enjoy!)

(Also I have so many WIP’s that I’ve had to put on hold to focus on my exams, but there’s more coming I promise!!)

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964247 

✨enjoy!✨

~~

When Steve finds out what Billy’s father does to him, he makes an effort to not call Billy by his last name. He doesn’t want to ever associate Billy with Neil, doesn’t want Billy to even think about having anything to do with his shitty dad.

And Billy picked up on it, of course. Noticed every time Steve would roll his eyes, huffing out instead of the usual warning ‘Hargrove’ he used to get. Would respond with any creative nickname he would decide to use whenever Billy would greet him.

Billy. Bills. Baby. Baby cakes. Sweet cheeks. Mullet man. Love of my life. Man who fucks me good. Bad boy. Sugar. Short stuff.

God, Billy hated being called short stuff. But it was cute, the effort Steve would put in to avoiding his last name. It still confused him, of course, but it was fine, right?

At first it didn’t bother him, just something to brush off, maybe Steve was just trying to be cute, which really wasn’t hard for him. Billy thought he was always cute.

But eventually he realised that he hadn’t heard his last name spoken from Steve’s lips in almost a month, and something must be going on. Concerned more than confused at this point, he knew he needed to ask, knew there had to be a reason. So he did.

They were laying in bed, still tired and covered in sweat and other bodily fluids from the multiple orgasms they happily endured together. Billy held Steve to his chest, his hands still tangled up in his hair, Steve’s leg over Billy’s waist and arm across his shoulders. They did this often, usually leading them to drift off to sleep and wake up the next morning sticky and gross but together, so they never really minded. But today was different, because Billy couldn’t stop his mind from racing, trying to figure out why. So he started to play with Steve’s hair, letting the words fall from his mouth.

“Hey Stevie?” he asked, moving one arm down to hug Steve around his waist, holding him closer, loving the weight of Steve’s body on top of his own. Steve shifted slightly, getting more comfortable as he spoke.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Steve nodded in response, placing a kiss to Billy’s chest before snuggling closer. Billy sighed, his hand tugging at the hair on the nape of Steve’s neck as he spoke.

“You don’t call me by my last name anymore.”

Steve paused for a moment, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, placing another kiss onto Billy’s chest, another to his neck before he snuggled back into his body. Billy’s hands didn’t stop moving, one up his back and one in his hair.

“You noticed that?” Steve asked softly, not so much a whisper, still loud enough for them both to hear as Billy nodded his head, managing to pull Steve’s body even closer.

“Yeah. Why?”

Steve pushed himself up onto his elbows, his eyes wandering over Billy’s face as he thought, of where to start, what to say. He pecked Billy on his jaw, another on his lips as his hand moved to his forehead, brushing a stray piece of hair back as he spoke.

“Do you know when I stopped?” he asked, his glance lingering on the piece of hair he pushed back before they moved to Billy’s eyes. 

“About a month ago?”

“Yeah.. it was when I found out what Neil does to you.”

Billy’s hands paused for a moment as he furrowed his eyebrows towards his boyfriend, remembering the day Steve found out. He was out driving late at night, trying to hold back tears from his conversation with his father. It was pouring down with rain, and he could barely see a thing, it was a miracle he didn’t hit Billy. 

Billy refused to get into the car at first, told Harrington to fuck off and that he was fine, but Steve was persuasive, and refused to leave Billy out alone in the middle of a storm. It wasn’t long until Steve found out why Billy was out there all alone, bloody and crying, and he’s never let him alone since.

Steve chuckled out, his fingers dancing across Billy’s jaw as he glanced down to his lips for a moment before continuing. 

“I guess I, I didn’t want you to think of him anytime I called you Hargrove. Didn’t want you to think, that I thought you were anything like him.. I didn’t, I don’t want you to have anything to do with him.”

“It’s just a last name, Stevie-“

“It’s his last name. And you deserve better than that. Better than him. You deserve so much baby.”

Billy couldn’t help but smile, his whole body feeling warm at Steve’s words. He raised his hand, cupping Steve’s face with it, who lent into the touch like he usually did.

“You’re too good to me, pretty boy. I love you so much”

“I love you too, macho man.”

[wallywrites]

#57 for harringrove please and thank you?

I already knew what I wanted to write for this prompt so now I’m super excited!! Thanks for the request!! Sorry it took so long, been so busy with assignments and every time I have a break I have no motivation, but here it is!!

(also sorry it’s kind of short! I have so many fics I’m working on atm but I didn’t want to make you wait any longer 😅)

Prompt #57 “Is that a tattoo?” from my prompt list.

Some smut? Idk like not too intense but there’s a little bit. (i don’t know how to write smut lmao does this count? idk probably)

Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26366710

✨enjoy!✨

Ever since Steve and Billy got together, they had an issue with being apart. Hated it, would spend the whole time longing and wishing to be with each other. Billy would never admit this, but Steve was more than happy to complain constantly the more he’s away from his boyfriend, which is exactly what he did the whole three weeks he spent with his family in California. 

“It’s just three weeks, Stevie, you’ll be fine” Billy tried to convince him, but that only made Steve hold him tighter, refusing to leave. He couldn’t care less about weddings, let alone his family. He barely knew his family, other than saying hello with a small wave and a polite smile at whatever family event his parents would force him to go to. His family didn’t talk to each other unless it was to show others how much of a loving family they were, but really they didn’t care. Hell, they would disown Steve the moment any of them realised he was bisexual, or in a relationship with a guy, because they couldn’t really care less about him. Steve didn’t even remember the last time he spoke to his cousin, Amelia, who was getting married on the beach in Billy’s home town.

Billy tried to convince Steve he would like it up there, that it would be good for him to stay in Cali for a little, get used to it, since that’s where Billy promised to take Steve when they were old enough to get away from their families and from fucking Hawkins. Steve was reluctant, of course, but felt a little better about it.

That feeling left him the moment they began to drive, his parents sitting quietly in the front, not even realising their son sulking in the back, already missing his boyfriend.

And sure, he didn’t mind California, it reminded him of Billy. But waking up to the smell of the ocean, the smell of Billy, but no actual Billy to hug and kiss and hold, was almost like torture. 

So that’s why the moment he returned, Billy was at his house, on top of him in his bedroom, attacking his neck with sloppy but needy kisses. Steve’s house was empty like always, his parents already off again for another “business trip”, which they didn’t really mind, meaning they could be as loud as they wanted, and after three weeks of constant pining and not being touched the way they wanted to, they knew they wouldn’t be able to contain their moans.

Steve couldn’t help but shiver as Billy’s hand made its way under his shirt, his fingers finding their way up to his nipple, causing more heat to pool at his groin, his heart beating faster. He tugged at Billy’s hair, pushing his body closer as Billy’s fingers continued to rub over his now hard nipple, causing Steve to squirm under him. He didn’t realise how much he actually needed Billy, how much being away from him hurt, caused his chest to ache, forever longing for the moments like these.

He knew Billy felt the same, that being away from Steve was just as hard, and Steve would be lying if he didn’t say that this was the best kind of sex, after being apart for so long, the need to get as close to each other as they can. The longest they had been apart since they got together was a week, and the moment they reunited was like heaven, so Steve could only imagine what this would feel like. The thought itself was getting him excited, was making his dick already hard, wanting, waiting for Billy to take him apart. 

Billy pulled away from his neck, moving to Steve’s lips, licking into his mouth almost instantly as Steve moaned out again. He pushed his hips towards Billy, a moan escaping both of them at the friction. Billy’s fingers squeezed at his nipple again, causing Steve to squirm again, Billy’s fingers lingering for a moment before trailing down to Steve’s waist, his fingers brushing over the tattoo Steve forgot to tell him about. Honestly Steve forgot it was even there, too preoccupied with thoughts of Billy’s dick inside him the whole ride home, too distracted the moment he had Billy on top of him.

Billy pulled away from Steve at the change in texture on Steve’s side, the tattoo still slightly raised, and pushed himself up slightly, pulling at the bottom of Steve’s shirt to reveal the black ink, in the shape of a surfboard, ocean waves and sunshine inside the dark lines, sitting just above Steve’s left hip.

“Is.. is that a tattoo?” Billy breathed out, both boys still breathing heavily as he ran his fingers over the ink again, causing a blush to creep its way onto Steve’s cheeks, watching as Billy leaned closer, continuing to trace the lines with his fingers, causing goosebumps to rise on Steve’s skin.

He nodded, biting down on his lip as Billy glanced towards him, grinning as he looked back down towards the tattoo. It shouldn’t have made Steve that excited, but seeing Billy just in awe over his tattoo, a grin on his face as he checked his boyfriend’s ink out, did wonders to Steve. He loved the feeling of Billy checking him out in general, always made him blush and his stomach fill with butterflies, but being this close and this intimate, watching as Billy look towards Steve, so in love with everything about him, made Steve want nothing more than to be this close to him forever.

And Billy truly did love Steve, loved every inch of him. Knew every inch of him, inside and out, in more ways than just physical. Sometimes he still doesn’t believe that he managed to get Steve, that his pretty boy was his. That Billy was the one to make Steve feel this way, to take him apart and put him back together. Billy didn’t think he deserved Steve, but wasn’t going to let that stop him from loving him, from letting Steve love him back. He thought he was the luckiest guy in the world. 

“A surfboard?” Billy asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip, causing Steve’s body to twitch slightly, his side heating up more with every touch. He couldn’t help but smile, watching Billy mesmerised by the tattoo. That same feeling overcoming him, warming his whole body the more he watched his boyfriend. 

“Yeah. Being up there reminded me of you, being by the ocean. You know you smell like California” he began to explain, tangling his fingers through Billy’s hair again as he hummed out, nodding slightly, continuing to look over the details of the sunshine and the birds above the waves.

“I remember you telling me you used to love to surf, that you’d teach me when we go there together” Steve continued, the memories coming back to him, causing his smile to grow. He couldn’t wait until that day, after they graduate, when they move away together. He enjoyed being in California, and being there made him long for their future, wanting nothing more than to be with Billy out by the water on a hot summers day.

He replayed the moment Billy promised to take him to California over and over again in his head, holding onto that hope. The thought of leaving Hawkins with Billy made him smile, warmth spreading throughout his body. There was a time he never thought that would be his dream, moving to California, with Billy Hargrove of all people. But things changed, and if he was religious he would thank god for letting things turn out like they did. He really didn’t know what he would do without Billy in his life. 

“You know how much I missed you?” Steve tugged at Billy’s hair again, his eyes meeting bright blue ones as Billy licked his lips again, already knowing the answer. He moved his body closer, leaning in towards Steve, stopping just an inch from his face.

“Enough to get a tattoo?” he asked, smirking out as Steve nodded, receiving a kiss before Billy pulled Steve’s shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, moving back down his body, placing his lips over the inked skin, causing Steve’s dick to twitch in his shorts, loving the feeling of Billy’s lips and tongue on his skin. Billy noticed the shiver that ran through Steve, smirking as he continued to kiss over the tattoo, his teeth digging into his skin for a moment, before his tongue ran over the sore spot, causing Steve to twitch again, pushing his hips towards Billy again, dick fully hard, a moan escaping him.

Billy moved his kisses back up Steve’s body, holding himself up again, biting down at Steve’s collar bone as Steve tugged at his hair, guiding him up to meet his lips.

“You like?” Steve asked a Billy pulled away, positioning himself between Steve’s legs, tugging on the waistband of his shorts, his eyes back to the tattoo, shining slightly with Billy’s spit, causing him to smirk as he looked back to Steve.

“Hell yeah. Look real sexy with some ink, pretty boy” he said, his eyes already blown as he pulled off Steve’s shorts, going for his own buttons on his jeans as Steve licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to feel Billy on him, inside him. Couldn’t keep in the moans as Billy kissed down the inside of his thigh, his fingers still tracing the surfboard, sending another shiver through Steve.

Yeah, he’d definitely have to get another tattoo soon.

[wallywrites]

But what if a demodog burst into the Byers after Max drugged Billy? Like before they could leave? And Billy is still conscious but can’t move anything and he can’t scream but what the fuck is that what the fuck.

And like, Max has NEVER seen Billy so scared, like even with Neil Billy usually hides his fear pretty well, and so now the party have to fight off a demo dog WHILE trying to protect an unconscious Steve and an immobile Billy.

And the party’s like “why the fuck are you trying to save your asshole brother?” but then Max gives them the BIGGEST death glare and proceeds to try and drag Billy to safety.

And then the demodog runs away because (let’s face it those kids are badass and probably scared it somehow) and Billy just starts CRYING because he’s so over everything like, after an already rough night, he then finds out that MONSTERS exist and that his BABY SISTER has been fighting them (which, lets face it, he secretly cares A LOT about Max), and that STEVE has been fighting them, and it’s just all too much.

And Max just lays Billy’s head on her lap and just tries to calm him down while he still can’t move, and eventually he just stops fighting the drugs and passes out.

And things are A LOT different when he wakes.

Y’all I might write this so

[wallywrites]

Harringrove au where Steve is very open about his bisexuality and Billy finds comfort in his acceptance of himself and they bond over their experiences being within the lgbtq+ community and then fall in love because yes.

And Tommy is very closeted and they used to fuck around but when he finds out that Steve accidentally outed himself he gets scared so he starts to beat Steve up and stuff because of his internalised homophobia 

So Steve hangs out with Nancy (his ex) and Jon (his exes new boyf) but that gets old very fast because he kind of doesn’t enjoy watching them making out and being a couple 

So when he meets Billy he’s revealed af because not only does his new friend not care that he’s bisexual but he’s super gorgeous and lets face it, he doesn’t mind getting to stare at him all day

And then these two little gay boys just bond together and have fun and go to parties and get drunk and have sex and just get to be together, and they surround themselves with Nancy and Jonathan and Robin and Max and everyone who accepts and supports them

And they help Will with his gay crisis and help Joyce and Jonathan understand what they need to do for him and how they should react and what can help him feel better and understand himself, and they just become role models to the party (not just for being openly gay or openly together, but just being happy and not letting anything stop them from being happy and together and its just nice)

And then eventually they finish high school and they move out to California together and rent this shitty little apartment, but its okay because its theirs, and its away from their parents and anyone who hates them or hurts them because of who they are

And they just live together happily and are so fucking relieved that things turned out how they did, because god knows what would have happened if Steve was closeted and Billy had no one to comfort him about his own sexuality, because lets face it homophobia and internalised homophobia is so fucking toxic it hurts

And then they get married and Robin is Steve’s best man and Max is Billy’s because they helped them so much when they were down because of any of the prejudice they went through, and plus this wedding is technically illegal and everything is backwards anyway, so why not have two female best man’s and yes Joyce defiantly walks Steve down the isle and Will can be their gay little flower boy and they throw the gayest wedding they can just as a fuck you to everyone who ever said they couldn’t 

And they’re just so contempt with life 

This was not meant to be this long but I got excited thinking about my boys just being happy and together and god I want that for them.

[wallywrites]

I can just imagine Billy watching Jaws 2 when it came out in ‘78 and being completely obsessed and smitten over Mark Gruner (who plays Michael Brody), big brown hair, big brown eyes, too handsome to handle. Because he obviously has a type, and that is it.

And then he moves to bumfuck nowhere Hawkins Indiana, and he’s thinking this can’t get any fucking worse, but then there he is, Steve Harrington, big brown hair and big brown eyes, the most gorgeous person Billy had ever seen. 

And then he’s smitten all over again, completely awestruck at Steve’s beauty.

And when they finally start to date, they start having movie nights, and as Billy’s browsing the movies in Family Video, he sees it. Jaws 2, sitting in the horror section, and Billy couldn’t help himself. 

And Steve really doesn’t like horror movies, really didn’t like the idea of sharks trying to eat him alive, but then Billy was pouting and Steve couldn’t say no to that. Plus, he never really minded curling up to Billy, having his strong arms wrapped around him.

And so they laid on Steve’s couch, already cuddling, and then there he is, Mark Gruner, and Billy just melts, watching one of his childhood crushes, holding his beautiful boyfriend in his arms.

“He’s so fucking hot”

“Really? You think so?”

“Fuck yeah, big brown hair, big brown eyes-”

“Oh, so you have a type huh?”

“Hell yeah I’ve got a type”

And then they just spend the rest of the movie making out, and then they’re upstairs before the movie even finishes.

[wallywrites]

BIlly’s trying to be less aggressive aggressive and more passive aggressive instead.

Steve and Billy live together, and almost everything is perfect. But then there’s little things that becomes annoying overtime. Like, ketchup and mustard should be refrigerated, Billy, not put in the cupboard, and the toilet paper should be over and out, Steve, not over and in.

But they don’t like fighting, especially over stupid little things that they don’t even know why pisses them off. So instead, they’re in a silent constant battle of moving things how they think they should be, and it becomes consistent, something done every day, something that frustrated them both, but they’ll never mention it. They don’t even acknowledge it. Just get angry for a moment, fix the issue, and go along with their day. 

The toilet paper gets flipped every time either of them used the bathroom, the sauces being moved from fridge or cupboard whenever they notice its in the wrong place, the keys get moved to where they should be instead, and this pillow goes here and the remote should be there. Things in their house are constantly moving, changing, but they never loose anything, always knowing where the other would have put it.

Passive aggressive was still a lot better than aggressive aggressive.

[wallywrites]

A Harringrove collage au where Steve’s in a toxic abusive relationship with the first person that showed him any affection because after Nancy he was totally deprived of love and doesn’t think he deserves anything better

So his roommates Robin and Billy help him to realise he deserves so much more and that his bf is an absolute asshole but Steve STRUGGLES because he loves his bf and “he was the only one there for me” and basically just sad abused little Stevie realising after years of emotional and now physical abuse from his parents, Nancy, his boyf, that he actually deserves love and care and that this isn’t it

And then obvi he falls in love with his gorgeously attractive roommate who helps him realise he deserves to be happy and then becomes his new happiness

Low key though might write this also might turn this into more than one part because I want some angst and just finished my assignments for now so I have a little bit of time before I have to do more

Let me know if I should write this because I’m down ya’ll

[wallywrites]

colored-rain asked:

Hey! Can you do "dont leave" or "youre my everything" with wolfstar? Ty♡♡

Thanks for the request!! I love this idea already!! I love both these prompts too so why not use both! Sorry it took so long! Been super busy with uni assignments but here it is!

Prompt #21 “don’t leave” and prompt #39 “you’re my everything” from my prompt list! If you want to suggest any prompts check out my list here! :)

Initially I had this really angsty idea in mind since the last wolfstar fic I wrote (still haven’t finished that one oops) was super sad and angsty but after finishing three assignments in the last couple of days I just wanted some cute fluff so here’s my attempt at that! (Still a little angst though)

(Repost because my fic was long and Tumblr decided to delete my “keep reading” bar and won’t let me edit on my laptop because I posted it on my phone, and I HATE that I don’t have one so I’m reposting it so it doesn’t annoy me because I don’t know how to fix it)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26232955 

✨Wolfstar au✨

Full moons were always bad. But at least Remus didn’t have to spend them alone anymore. Even though he never really remembered what happens during the night, only flashes and glimpses of images through his nightmares, he knew that he was safe, that others would be safe, too. That Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs would make sure nothing bad could happen.

But they couldn’t stop the inevitable, and sometimes, like last night, things got a little too out of hand. The moon was bigger than usual, Remus was already feeling angsty and sore days before he was meant to shift, more intense than he usually does. He knew something big was coming, didn’t want to worry the others, should have worried the others.

Instead he pretended he was fine, until he wasn’t. Until he shifted and claws ripped at his skin and teeth bit at his friends, and then he was alone. The rest of the marauders didn’t even know how he managed to get away, spent the whole night looking for him, worried, Prongs still limping slightly from where Moony had latched his jaw into the others leg. Padfoot didn’t stop looking, didn’t stop running and sniffing and tracking, even when the others needed a break, even long after they decided to split up, to track more ground that way.

And then the sun began to rise, and the worry turned into fear. Remus had spent practically the whole full moon alone, and god knows what could have happened without the others there to distract him, to keep him from hurting himself or anyone else.

And then the scent of blood caused Sirius to stop dead in his tracks, his legs pushing himself harder and faster than he had pushed before, because blood was never a good sign, and the sun was practically up and Moony was alone and-

There he was. Lying cold, naked, shaking at the bottom of a ditch, more blood than Sirius had ever seen before. Sirius didn’t even realise that he had shifted back until he saw his hands, reaching out to gently pull Remus’ very cold very scarred very bloody body closer, pulling his own jacked off to drape it around his shoulders, trying to heat up his body. It was bad, so much worse than they’ve had before, nasty wounds drawn long across his chest and stomach, another smaller one across his forehead.

And he couldn’t help but think that this was all his fault. If he didn’t loose Remus, if he had been paying attention, if he had realised how big the moon was earlier and how bad it was going to get-

He didn’t remember making his way back to the castle, Remus floating above him from the levitation spell he must have used. Didn’t remember when he found the other Marauders either, didn’t remember waiting and waiting and waiting for Madame Pomfrey to finish healing their friend.

He did however remember the fear that Madame Pomfrey let into her expressions the brief moment before she moved Remus to a hospital bed and started the healing.

Everything happened in a blur, until he snapped out of the daze he was in, his eyes fixated on Remus, lying cold and still in the hospital bed. He hadn’t even realised he was crying until he glanced down, noticing his forearm covered in tears.

“-Pads?”

He looked up for the first time, blinking a couple of times as he looked towards James, who stood, eyebrows furrowed, hand resting on Sirius’ shoulder - when did that get there?

“You alright? You spaced out?”

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked what happened? You kind of haven’t spoken since we found you two”

A sigh escaped Sirius as he looked back towards Remus, watching his chest rise and fall, the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. He tried to think, of what actually happened, but his mind kept wandering, jumping from moment to moment, nothing making any sense. He groaned out as he closed his eyes, rubbing his hand down his face. James waited patiently, not really understanding what was happening, but he knew Sirius, he knew how he acted when they had a particular bad moon, knew that stress and worry can cause his brain to get a little muddled. The same thing happened when Sirius first moved in with the Potters, and James was more observant than he would admit.

And so he drew his hand back and waited as Sirius sighed again, leaning back in his seat, his eyes still trained on Remus.

“It’s all messy, I don’t know, I just..” the image of Remus’ body lying in the ditch came back into Sirius’ mind, causing a shiver to run through him. Out of all the memories and thoughts and images, that was the only one he really could make out, the one he really didn’t want to remember.

Because it hurt. It hurt more than he thought it would, more than he would ever admit. And he didn’t know why. Of course he cares about Remus, he’s cared and worried and stressed about him the day they met, even more the day he found out what happens on a full moon. Remus was one of his best friends, so it makes sense that he was worried, that he was concerned and upset. But it didn’t explain the strange feeling he was getting in his chest, his stomach, his gut. Didn’t explain why his head hurt and his legs couldn’t stop moving and his mind couldn’t stop racing and he couldn’t stop thinking all the worst things he could possibly be thinking and Merlin what if it’s too late and what if he doesn’t make it and what if he never knows how much he means to me and how much I need him and that I love him and-

Sirius physically flinched at the realisation, the words hitting him as hard as he hit the wall he accidentally flew into one day at practice.

“Pads? What is it?” James asked, moving closer as Sirius’ whole body began to shake. He loved Remus. He was in love with Remus fucking Lupin and oh god it made so much sense, so much that he didn’t know how he couldn’t see it before. He was always wanting to be close to Remus, wanting to hear his voice and make him smile and god he was handsome, and sure, he always wondered what it would feel like to hold him and kiss him, and now he knew why.

He started crying again, couldn’t tell when it started, and when he looked to James, the tears kept coming, because he loved Remus, and Remus was hurt, and he was cold and he was bleeding and scarred and Sirius wanted to hold him and tell him it’s going to be okay and tell him that he loves him and what if he doesn’t wake up? What if it’s too late?

“I think love him, James. And I didn’t realise until I saw him- until he.. what if I never get the chance to tell him?”

James was shocked to say the least. Love was a strange topic to Sirius. Sure, he loved a lot of things, in his own way. He loved his friends, loved the Potters, he loved quidditch and pissing Severus off. But love was hard for Sirius, they had his parents to thank for that. It took time for Sirius to even admit that he deeply cared about the other marauders. It was such a foreign concept to Sirius that often times he doesn’t know how he felt, or wouldn’t believe that someone could love him, that he could love someone.

Love was hard for Sirius. But to be in love with someone? James often worried that it would never happen, not because he’s not capable of it, but because he believed Sirius would ignore it, wouldn’t let him feel those things, would push those feelings far away until he forgot about them.

But instead of asking questions and fussing over Sirius being in love, Sirius being in love with a boy, Sirius being in love with Remus, he shook his head, knowing exactly what Sirius is thinking, exactly what he would be freaking out about.

“No, stop that. He’s going to wake up, and then you can tell him how much you love him, okay?”

James had time to question Sirius later, but now he needed to be there for his friend, his brother. Because he knew love, and he knew loss, and he knew Sirius, and he knew he needed to help, to calm him down.

“He’s hurt real bad James-“ he could hear the hurt, the pain in Sirius’ voice, and wondered how he never noticed before, how he always seemed to get worked up and upset whenever they had a particularly bad moon, more so than the others, even when they know he’s safe and going to be okay.

“He’s always hurt bad, and then he wakes up and then he’s fine. He’s going to be okay. Come on, Sirius he’s stronger than all of us combined.” It wasn’t a lie. The moment they found out about Remus’ lycanthropy, James knew he was stronger than anyone he had met, than all of them.

Sirius still wasn’t convinced. They had never had one this bad, and he still couldn’t shake the image out of his head. James watched for a moment as Sirius looked back towards Remus, still asleep, chest rising and falling, shallow but steady, thanks to the professor. She always knew what to do, how to heal Remus, make sure he got better, and they were beyond thankful for that. She even let them stay by his side until he woke up, not that they were technically allowed. Never questioned them either, though they all know she must wonder how the three of them manage to find and bring Remus back after a full moon. She had her guesses, of course, but never questioned them on it, which they were thankful for.

And she always made him better, they knew that, this was no different, but then Sirius started to shake again, because he was so pale, and he was cold and hurt and his skin was already starting to bruise up around the scars and the scars, Merlin the scars were so big and-

James noticed that Sirius started to spiral again, could see the way his brows furrowed and his eyes turned glossy due to more tears threatening to spill. He knew that his mind ad started to race again, so he placed his hand back on his brothers shoulder, and spoke as softly as he could, as calm as he ever had.

“Hey, you’ll get your chance to tell him. I promise you.”

Sirius took a deep breath, calming down slightly, but his legs still bounced under him. And James watched as he just sat, eyes never leaving Remus’ body. Sirius didn’t speak, instead lent forward in his chair, his elbows resting on the bed, next to where Remus laid. And they stayed like that for a while, James’ hand resting on Sirius’ shoulder, his eyes moving between two of his best friends, both broken and hurt and exhausted in different ways. Sirius leaning on the hospital bed, eyes never pulling away from the rise and fall of Remus’ chest, scared that if he looked away, the breathing would stop.

And James knew what he had to do, what Sirius had to do. He didn’t want to leave, but he knew Sirius needed time to think, needed time to just be with Remus, so he moved closer, giving Sirius’ shoulder a small squeeze as he spoke.

“Hey.. I’m gonna give you guys some room, maybe you can think about what you’re going to say when he wakes up?”

Sirius just nodded, a good sign that he wasn’t completely stuck in his head. James pulled back to leave, but he paused, looking back towards Sirius, unmoved, legs still bouncing and body still shaking.

“Hey, uh.. thanks for telling me. You know you can always trust me with that stuff, right?”

Sirius turned his eyes away from Remus for the first time, his eyes finding James, as he nodded, a small smile making it’s way onto his face. Sirius was truly grateful for James, who always let him be himself, who he trusted with everything. “I know.”

“And after this I’m gonna have a hell of a lot of questions to ask you-“

Sirius couldn’t help the chuckle that left him, shaking his head slightly at his friend. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll answer all your questions.”

Sirius knew he would have to tell James everything after this, explain everything, including what he still didn’t quite know or understand yet. And if he wasn’t so shaken up or upset still, he might even had been excited to talk to James about it, to laugh with him as they realise how ridiculous he had been, never realising what his feelings had meant. Might’ve even been excited to gossip like normal teenagers do, about Remus and Lily and the absurd amount of pining they’re bound to endure.

James just smiled, nodding his head, before pausing for a moment. And the smile never faltered when he spoke.

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

Those words meant more to Sirius than any words he’s ever heard before. Any time James, or the Potters, or Remus or Peter would tell him that they’re proud, his body would heat up, warmth running through his chest and to his stomach. He didn’t even realise how different this conversation would have been if it was with anyone else, because admittedly he had just come out to his best friend, something that he knows isn’t very accepted, couldn’t even imagine the reaction his parents would have to the idea of their son being in love with a boy, but he was happy that he felt safe enough to do that here. Because James really was his family, really meant a lot to him. And he couldn’t help the smile that made its way to his face at his brothers words.

“Thanks prongs.”

“Give Moons a kiss for me.”

And then James was gone, and Sirius was back to staring at Remus. A long sign escaped him, one he didn’t realise he had been holding, didn’t realise it needed to get out. He reached out, leaning his elbows back where they were, but he paused, his eye drifting to Remus’ hand, lying by his body. Sirius had always wondered what it would feel like to hold his hand. He thought it was ridiculous, that he sounded so sappy, but he didn’t try to stop himself as he reached out, tangling his fingers with Remus’, who was still cold, sending a shiver up Sirius’ arm.

He pulled Remus’ arm towards him gently, placing a kiss on the back of his hand, before resting both arms back down onto the bed, his thumb rubbing over were his lips had touched.

And he sat, and he thought, about what he was going to say. God what was he going to say? And how was he going to say it? What would Remus say? Would he even be okay with it?

He couldn’t imagine Remus ever hating him over the fact that he loved him. Remus probably wouldn’t care that Sirius liked boys either, but would he love him back? Did he love him back? And then Sirius started to panic, because what if he doesn’t? What even would I say? How am I meant to tell Remus that I’m in love with him, and the thought of him gone makes me want to die? That I want to be with him forever, and that I hate when we’re apart, and Christ what am I going to say?

But then he paused, and the worry flooded back to him. He didn’t care what he was going to say, as long as he got to say it. As long as Remus was okay. And he let his eyes wander back over his body, and he could already feel the tears. And then suddenly, the quiet was too much, too suffocating, so he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before he spoke, spilling out all his feelings as best as he could.

“I’m so sorry, Moons. Christ, please be okay. Please wake up Moony..” he spoke, hoping that he could make some sense of what he was feeling. He opened his eyes, focusing on their hands together, before taking a deep breath and continuing.

“I’m so sorry I never told you, that I love you.. I didn’t know.. I didn’t realise I loved you.. I always knew I felt differently about you, but I didn’t.. I was scared, Moons, of a lot of things, but.. seeing you like this.. I can’t imagine never being able to tell you how I feel..”

His eyes were closed again, and he really didn’t want to cry more, so he took another deep breath, his chest shaking, his legs shaking, his hands shaking, and he focused on Remus’ hand within his own. The feeling of their fingers being wrapped up together, the heat from his own body warming up Remus’, which calmed him down. Because he wanted Remus to be warm, to be safe and healthy and okay. He wanted Remus to be okay, because he needed Remus. He needed Remus more than he thought he would ever need anyone.

“Merlin, you’re my everything, Remus. I need you, please wake up.”

And Sirius didn’t know when he realised that Remus was awake, staring at him, tears in his eyes. He didn’t even realise he was staring back, shocked, confused, concerned, until Remus squeezed at his hand, bringing him back from whatever frozen state he was in.

“Merlin Remus” he said simply, dropping down as close to Remus as he could without hurting his wounds, wrapping his arms around his shoulders at an uncomfortable angle to hug him. He didn’t care, Remus was awake, he was okay.. and he might have heard the confession Sirius had made.. and he knows, god he knows.

Sirius didn’t want to pull away, one because he loved the feeling of Remus’ arms wrapped around his back, but also because then Remus would see how red his face is, and then he’d have to face the fact that he unknowingly and unintentionally confessed his feelings to his best friend.

And Sirius’ mind was rambling, trying to think of what to say, or what to do, a million thoughts rushing through his head and around his skull. He was going to get a headache later, already felt it coming along, but he couldn’t possibly worry about that with his heart pounding so loudly in his chest against his rib cage, Moony pressed so closely to his body.

And then Remus’ breath on his ear caused him to freeze, suddenly every thought and sound whirling around in his skull gone as he listened.

“I love you too, Pads.”

Sirius didn’t mean to pull away as fast as he did, but as soon as he saw the calm look on Remus’ face, the sparkle in his eye, he instantly relaxed, even let out a small laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, causing Remus’ smile to grow.

“So you heard all of that?”

Remus laughed out, winching slightly, but his smile never faulted. “Bits and pieces. But I got the gist of it.”

Sirius placed his hands on either side of Remus’ face, careful not to touch any of his healing wounds, and he couldn’t help but smile, warmth pooling throughout his body, because he was holding Remus, and Remus was holding him, and he loved Remus, and Remus loved him.

“I was so scared, Moons.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Sirius chuckled at that, shaking his head. Only Remus would apologise for something that he had no control over. The other marauders have had to tell Remus to stop saying he was sorry on multiple occasions, had explained to him they they know it’s not his fault, that they don’t blame him for anything, would never blame him for anything. That they’re scared and worried because they care, that it’s not his fault. Remus tired to believe them, but the words “I’m sorry” just seemed to slip off his tongue so naturally that he could never really help it.

“No, don’t be sorry. You don’t have to be sorry.”

And he meant it. He didn’t want Remus to ever feel like he had to be sorry, like he was doing something wrong. Because he wasn’t. Sirius thought that Remus shouldn’t ever apologise for anything, because really there isn’t anything Remus could do that would make Sirius want an apology.

They didn’t move, didn’t speak for a while, instead all they did was look to each other. Sirius couldn’t really tell what he was feeling, nor did he completely understand Remus’ expression, but he didn’t want to ask, wanted to just stare a little longer. So he let his eyes move over his face, leaving his eyes and moving across his scars and freckles, and down to his lips. Christ Sirius wanted to kiss him. To finally find out what Remus’ lips would feel like against his own. And it seemed like Remus was reading his mind when he spoke.

“Merlin, Sirius just kiss me already-“

And that’s all Sirius needed before he pushed himself closer, his hands holding Remus’ face as he kissed him. Remus’ arms tightened around Sirius’ back, and Sirius could feel him smile as he kissed him, leaning his body closer, wanting to be closer and closer and closer.

He ran his tongue over Remus’ bottom lip, which Remus returned with a moan, letting him in almost instantly as Sirius’ hands moved up to tangle themselves in his hair. A part of Remus thought he was still dreaming, that this wasn’t happening, that Sirius wasn’t here, kissing him, tugging at his hair, but then Sirius would moan, reminding Remus that this was very much real, that this was very much happening. That just made him want to squeal.

But they were both exhausted, so it wasn’t long before they pulled apart, not really wanting to, but knowing that they probably should. That they would have time to do more of that later.

The two of them couldn’t help but laugh, Sirius leaning his forehead on Remus’, a sigh of relief leaving both of them, a sign that both boys had wanted this for a while, despite Sirius only realising it moments before. Remus shook his head slightly, his smile never fading as he spoke.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve waited for that.”

Sirius felt warm, his whole body tingling at the idea of Remus wanting to kiss Sirius, of Remus waiting for the moment. That thought made Sirius’ face blush red, his cheeks beginning to ache from the grin he didn’t notice having, which refused to leave his expression.

Sirius wanted to be closer to Remus, to hold him and kiss him, the thought itself getting him excited, but as he pulled away slightly, Remus froze, his grip around Sirius’ back tightening as he closed his eyes.

“Don’t-, don’t leave, please.”

Sirius couldn’t help but chuckle, leaving being the last thing on his mind. So he lent down again, catching Remus’ lips in another kiss before pulling back slightly, not as far as before. He pushed himself up onto the bed, Remus moving slightly to the side as he helped Sirius under the covers. Sirius laid down, his arms wrapping around Remus, whose body was now warm, pulling his body into his own. Remus sighed out again, his body shaking slightly as Sirius placed a kiss to his forehead, closing his own eyes before speaking.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

[wallywrites]

I had this idea swirling around in my head about how my Harringrove boys would sleep, especially given their own individual trauma as I know from my experience and others that it can affect how you sleep, and I couldn’t get the idea of it out of my head so I started to write and now I’m totally convinced that this is what happens 

Also I have some prompt requests in progress so if you want some longer pieces stay tuned!

✨enjoy these soft bois✨

Steve always gets tangled up in his blankets and sheets. He never knows why, but he always wakes up with a sheet wrapped around one leg, his blanket bunched up down the end of its covers while half of it drappes off the edge of the bed, hitting the floor below. All wild and messy, half his body sweating from too many layers and the other half covered with goosebumps from missing the warmth. Always a struggle to free himself in the morning, his muscles aching as he moved, as if he never stopped in the first place. As if he’d spent the whole night tossing and turning and moving.

Billy is the total opposite. Sleeps so still that if you didn’t see his chest moving every time he took a breath, you would think he was dead. Not that he slept like the dead. Would flinch, crack his eyes opened every time he heard a noise, anticipating what it could be, who it could be. Unless he was drunk or high, of course. Then he’d sleep all sprawled out like a starfish - feet hanging over the edge of the bed, an arm under his head and another resting on his stomach, though still as stiff as the dead. Still ready to jump awake, to protect himself, as if sleeping the wrong way was offensive. Which, in his fairness, was at times the case.

But when they were together, they changed. Steve no longer found himself tangled in the fabrics of the bed, instead however he would wake to be tangled up with Billy. Long limbs draped around the others waist, legs tangled together at the ends, bodies pressed as closely as they could to one another. And Billy would actually relax a little, loosen up, found himself buried into the crook of Steve’s neck, his hands running up his back and under his clothes, leaving warm tingles to dance across pale skin at his soft touches.

And they loved waking up together, one of the only things either of them found enjoyable about waking up. Being able to see how they ended up from the night before, being able to see each other, be with each other for a little longer. The best feeling in the world, Billy once said. And Steve couldn’t agree more.

[wallywrites]

Prompt #7 “Why are you up so late?” And prompt #25 “You don’t get to say that to me!” as randomly suggested by one of my best friends (thanks Jaz!!)

If you want to request a prompt from the list feel free!

(If you couldn’t tell by the prompts, this is gonna be a bit angsty, also mentions of emotional abuse so just a warning in case that might affect you)

Read on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149621

✨Harringrove au✨

Steve didn’t expect to find anyone out by the quarry that night. He was always alone whenever he would drive out to the water, anytime he couldn’t sleep, which was most nights at this point. Sit on the front of his BMW with a six pack of stale beers to his left and a pack of Marlboro’s to his right, a cigarette between his lips as he lets the smoke heat his body.

He did this often. Found his way out by the water on a bad night, a night he couldn’t sleep, when his nightmares were too loud and every shadow or slight noise made him jump three feet out of his skin. It had become a habit of his, goosebumps constantly rising up his spine at the change of the wind, even the smallest of things causing fear to run through him on instinct, always prepared for the worst to happen.

That’s what most of his nightmares were about. The monsters took up most of his thoughts, but some nights the monsters took the form of other people, like the party, their dead bodies surrounding him because he couldn’t save them, or his parents, just echoes of their empty faces and their harsh words. Sometimes they were even of Nancy, of that night he replays over and over again, the word ‘bullshit’ echoing through his head, bouncing around the walls of his skull.

And then there was Billy. Billy. He often had nightmares about Billy. Not in how you’d expect him to have, though. The nightmares were never about being scared of him, about the harsh words and the harsher fists that Billy had often thrown towards Steve before. No, instead the nightmares were about Billy not being there.

He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if Billy were to ever get caught up in the horrors of the town of Hawkins. He had forgiven him for that night at the Byers house, never held it against him as much as he tried to. And trust that he tried. Tried so hard to be angry with him. But every time he looked towards him, his blue eyes, thick lashes or that stupid smirk on his face, he couldn’t be mad. Not really.

And things were better between them, they really were. Things were good. Billy hadn’t really apologised yet, but he didn’t need to. Steve knew he was sorry, knew he didn’t know how to say it, so he showed it as best he could. And Steve understood. He was good at understanding. Understanding that Billy’s effort to befriend Steve, and his effort to not be as much of an asshole to his sister or any of the kids, and his effort to get into less fights were all really an attempt at showing that he was sorry.

But despite this, it still surprised Steve when he heard the roar of the Camaro, the headlights flashing out onto the water as the car came to a stop next to his own. He didn’t bother to look towards him as the engines turned off, the forest around them darkening, instead he took another drag of his cigarette, listening as Billy opened the car door, continued to listen as the same door closed, the sound of his footsteps taking over, breaking through the quiet of the night.

Billy didn’t speak as he pushed himself up onto the trunk of the BMW, stealing a cigarette from Steve’s pack, lighting it with his own lighter he pulled from the pocket of his jacket, the same one he always wears. They sat in silence for a few minutes like that, none of them bothering to speak, smoke filling the air around them. 

Steve had finished his beer by now, tossing the empty can towards the trees before grabbing another, passing it towards Billy, who took it graciously. They continued to sit in silence, and it wasn’t until they both were on their next beers before Billy decided to say something. 

“Why are you up so late?” 

Steve wanted to laugh, roll his eyes and ask the exact same question, but he really didn’t have the energy to. He knew Billy wasn’t out there to look for him. People knew he didn’t sleep as much as he should, sure, but no one knew that he often left his house in the middle of the night, let alone where he went, meaning that Billy was also up late, on his own terms, deciding for himself that somewhere like the quarry was a better place for him than back home in a warm bed. But Steve really didn’t want to get into that, into wondering what made Billy Hargrove leave the comfort of his house in the middle of the night. Part of him knew he didn’t want to know because he knew he probably wouldn’t like the answer.

So instead he answered like he always did when someone would catch him awake at unreasonable times, whenever someone began to show any sign of concern.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Billy huffed out in response, taking another sip of his beer as he watched Steve. He didn’t bother looking back, already having a feeling that his answer wasn’t going to be enough for Billy. He took another sip of his own beer, continuing to stare out towards the trees. Billy huffed out again, gesturing out towards the trees as he spoke.

“So what are you doing all the way out here?” he asked, dropping his arms by his side, looking back towards Steve, who watched the movement out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t that he wasn’t paying attention, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Billy, but he was exhausted, and Billy wouldn’t understand, and then he’d have to deal with more mocking than he already got, and he didn’t want to give Billy, or anyone else another reason to make fun of him, call him a pussy, because you’re a grown fucking man you shouldn’t have fucking nightmares.

So he sighed out again, thinking, something plain, something simple, something that could mean anything, not necessarily good or bad. Something that wont tell Billy the truth, as much as he felt himself wanting to, wanting to open up to someone.

“Just thinking. It’s quiet out here, makes it easier.” It wasn’t a lie, it was quiet out here, but it was quiet at home too. But the quiet of Steve’s too big and too empty house made his skin crawl. He hated the silence he got whenever he was home alone, which was most days at this point. At least out here, amongst the trees and the bugs and the monsters, there was something. Some type of noise to distract him from the growing quiet that was his life back home. Something to focus on to distract him from the growing noise in his head, which only grew louder the more quiet it was.

He really wanted Billy to drop it, but he knew Hargrove, knew that dropping it wasn’t an option. He didn’t even have time to think about why Billy actually cared to ask before he answered again, asking another question Steve didn’t want to answer. 

“What about?”

Steve didn’t mean to snap, didn’t want to be angry with Billy, wasn’t even angry at Billy, but his head hurt, and he was exhausted, and his body ached and the one time someone actually cared to ask Steve what was going on it was Billy fucking Hargrove with his stupid blue eyes and stupid concerned face and god, Steve, fucking snap out of it.

“Why do you care, Billy? And why are you even here?”

Steve was frustrated, but more because he was just plain confused. Why now did Billy care? Steve didn’t think he cared that much about him, didn’t think anyone did, didn’t think he was worth it. But here he was, sitting on the trunk of his car with someone who looked like they gave a shit, looked like they actually cared. And it scared him, though he wouldn’t want to admit it, that the idea of someone actually caring about him scared him more than anything else.

And Billy didn’t even get mad, which angered Steve more for some reason he would have to unpack later. Instead Billy just shrugged, taking another sip of his beer before answering calmly, as if that’s what they did. As if it was normal for them to have an actual conversation alone in the woods in the middle of the night.

“Needed to get out of the house, didn’t really have anywhere else to go.. and I care, because I’m doing this thing, where I try to not be an asshole, and you look like shit” Billy said back, and it took Steve a moment to register what he actually said, still in a daze by how calm he was, how he wasn’t angry like Steve was.

Steve finally glanced towards Billy, furrowed eyebrows at what he said, and by the look on Billy’s face, he knew exactly what was going through Steve’s mind. He raised his hands as if he was surrendering, chuckling slightly as he spoke.

“Hey I said I was trying, doesn’t mean I’m very good at it.”

Steve just sighed out, looking away again. He knew Billy didn’t mean anything by it, and it really wouldn’t surprise Steve if he did look like shit, but he didn’t even bother to think about it as he thought about what Billy said. Needed to get out of the house. Steve knew all about that, but what would drive Billy to need to get away? Before Steve could think about the implications of that sentence, what Billy might have unknowingly shared, Billy continued.

“Just, you look like somethings bothering you.”

Steve closed his eyes for a moment, thinking this over. It felt weird, feeling himself want to open up to Billy. He didn’t even know what Billy and him were. Friends? Maybe.They definitely weren’t the closest people, and they still tend to bump heads a bit, but they had come a long way from being rivals, or enemies, or whatever they were. But then Steve thought about that strange infatuation he found himself having towards the other, knowing that if he opened up, he probably wouldn’t stop, and more feelings would come out, feelings that he still wasn’t even 100% sure of himself. And he didn’t want to risk that.

“It’s nothing, okay? It’s not important.”

Billy paused, thinking, and then the words that left his mouth caused Steve’s blood to boil, the fastest he thinks he has ever gotten angry.

“You should open up to someone about it”

He didn’t know why he was getting so riled up by the thought of Billy telling him to open up, but then he remembered it was Billy, and he was mad and frustrated and exhausted and really wasn’t having a good day. So he scoffed out, finally turning to face Billy.

“What the fuck? No, fuck off Hargrove, you don’t get to say that to me!” Billy seemed stunned by the response, blinked a few times as if trying to register what was actually happening, but before he could say anything, Steve continued, rolling his eyes as he looked away from him.

“Open up, yeah fucking right, when was the last time you ever opened up to someone? I don’t know a fucking thing about you, other than you have a good right hook and you love your car more than you’ve probably loved anything else in your life!”

Steve could see him tense up out of the corner of his eyes, saw his jaw clench, his fists tightening around his beer. It was obvious that Billy was angry, and Steve knew what he said would’ve pissed Billy off, and maybe he was looking for a fight, wanted to release the built up anger and frustration and sadness in some way. But Billy didn’t budge, stayed silent instead, just watching, waiting for Steve to look, or speak, or do something. 

Steve didn’t want to look, he knew what would probably happen if he did. Knew that if he found Billy’s fucking beautiful eyes, he would instantly feel guilty, knowing he didn’t really want to be mean to Billy, that Billy hadn’t done anything wrong, that he was just angry and upset and weak. 

And then the guilt started, before he even had a chance to look at him, and when he finally looked up he felt even worse. Billy still didn’t speak as he looked towards Steve, who tried to figure out what the other was thinking, feeling. He looked, tired, something Steve didn’t notice before, and then he felt worse. Billy didn’t want to fight, he wanted to help. And Steve wasn’t letting him, because he was scared, of opening up to someone, to Billy.

A groan escaped Steve as he finally pulled his attention from Billy, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, releasing a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding. He paused for another moment, and when Billy remained quiet, he looked back out towards the trees.

“Nightmares, Bill. I get.. I get bad nightmares, and they keep me up all night, and I hate being in that house alone, so..”

And he knew. He knew that it wouldn’t stop there, that it was too late to turn back now. But, a part of him felt relief. But that was buried way down when Billy spoke again, when Steve realised he would have to explain. And that relief was suddenly filled with dread, and then he was scared again.

“.. what about?” Billy asked, and if Steve was really paying attention and not concentrating on how fast his heart was beating, he would have noticed the soft tone to Billy’s voice, or the way he moved slightly closer to Steve, or that he still hasn’t looked away.

“Nothing.. everything, I don’t know.” He knew he couldn’t tell Billy about the monsters, what most of his nightmares were about, what not only plagued his dreams but plagued his thoughts, his life. And he definitely couldn’t tell him about his nightmares involving Billy. Just the idea that he has dreams of Billy would probably get him multiple broken bones and bruises. 

“What about tonight then?”

And then he sighed again, glancing towards Billy, concern still written on his face, and when he moved closer, Steve closed his eyes, finally answering what was bothering him tonight, what forced him out of his house and into the darkness of Hawkins.

“My parents.” It was a simple enough answer, one that left Billy questioning what he meant, panicking slightly at what it could mean. Steve looked away again, didn’t notice how Billy instinctively looked him over, looking for any sign of bruising or past injuries, because Billy knew. He knew about having nightmares about your parents, about the things they do that keep you up at night. 

“You have nightmares about your parents?” Billy asked, this time Steve noticing the slight panic, but he brushed it off, because why would he panic? They’re just nightmares, right? I mean, yeah, Steve didn’t have the best relationship with them, and sure, whenever they would actually come home, Steve found himself feeling like even more shit than he already does, but Billy didn’t know that.

And before he knew what was happening, he started to feel defensive, to feel those fears coming back, because it’s stupid, isn't it? Having nightmares about your parents? And Billy was probably ready to laugh, ready to tease him about something so stupid. So he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring towards him, not wanting to be weak, to be vulnerable. 

“What? You’re gonna make fun of me for it?”

Steve had never seen Billy change expressions so quickly, his concern turned to actual panic, something Steve didn’t think he’d ever seen before. Couldn’t think of a time he saw Billy panic in general, didn’t expect Billy to care that much either. But he did, and Steve had no idea why, but he would be lying if he said that it didn’t make him feel a little better.

“No, I.. No” Billy stumbled over his words, sighing out as he paused. He wasn’t good at this, at the whole talking thing. At the whole friend thing, either. But he was trying, and he really didn’t want Steve to think he was just riling him up, looking for a reason to pick on him. Because he wasn’t. He knew about nightmares, about nightmares about your parents, and then he was worried again, and then he was determined.

“Why do you have nightmares about them?”

“.. it’s stupid, really-”

“Steve, why do you have nightmares about your parents?” he asked again, more stern than before, angry, almost, and more concerned than Steve had initially realised. More concerned than Steve had ever seen him. He finally looked to Billy, pausing as he realised Billy was actually worried still, possibly more than before, and Steve wondered what was going through Billy’s head, what he was assuming Steve had meant. And so he spoke, slowly, the words circling around in his head again, the nightmare coming back to him, his life coming back.

“They just.. say things, sometimes”

“What things Steve?”

He didn’t know why he felt the urge to tell Billy everything his parents ever had said to him. He felt like he would tell Billy all of his secrets if he asked, and he hated that. But then he remembered how worried Billy looked, how it actually seemed like he cared, how close they were, and, well, he couldn’t really stop.

“That I’m, useless, worthless, I’m not good at anything, I don’t deserve anything, that I’m an idiot, a fucking retard who can’t even fucking read without spacing out, that I’m a fucking burden who they wish they never had, that I’d never be loved.. just, fucking everything that could be wrong with someone, anything that would make me feel like complete and utter shit because to them that’s all I fucking am.”

He didn’t realise he had started crying until the lump in his throat grew bigger, causing him to almost choke on the tears, struggling to hold back a sob. He had never said out loud what his parents do, what they say, and for some reason it hurt a hell of a lot more than Steve thought it would. And he felt stupid. He felt so fucking stupid, admitting everything to Billy fucking Hargrove, who sat staring at him, frozen, watching as he broke apart on the trunk of his BMW in the middle of god fucking nowhere.

“Steve-”

Steve shook his head, wiping harshly at his cheeks. He refused to look at Billy any longer, training his eyes on the trees around him. This was stupid, Billy didn’t care, why would he? No one cared, so why would this be any different?

“Look, just, forget it, okay? It’s stupid, this is stupid-” he pushed off away from his car, wanting to get away, not wanting to be here, feel what he was feeling, but Billy didn’t let him get that far, pushing himself from the BMW, reaching out towards the other.

His fingers wrapped around Steve’s wrist, and he flinched, closing his eyes, preparing to be hit for being stupid, for being weak, preparing to be told to grow the fuck up and get over it, but it never came. Instead, he felt himself being pulled towards Billy, before two arms wrapped around his back, and when he opened his eyes, all he could see was Billy’s blond curls.

“What are you doing?”

Billy just huffed out, but it didn’t sound like he was annoyed, or angry, or upset. He was just, tired. And Steve didn’t think he had ever related to Billy as much as he did now. Tired. And then he answered, pulling Steve even closer.

“Hugging you”

“Why?”

“Just, relax, Steve. It’s okay.” And then Steve felt himself finally let go, no longer trying to maintain his tears, keep in his sobs. Because he was tired. He was really fucking tired, of keeping in all the shit that happens, pretending that everything was fine when they weren't, and someone finally actually fucking cared. So he let himself sob into Billy’s shoulder, let his once enemy hug him and hold him in the middle of fucking nowhere, hold him until the tears ran out.

And maybe it wasn’t that bad. Letting people in, letting people help, letting people care. Maybe.

[wallywrites]

✨writing prompts✨

150 writing dialogue prompts to help me start to write again

Trying to get myself to actually start writing again so I made a list of 150 prompts! Most likely will use all for Harringrove fics but might do some Reddie or possibly Wolfstar if I’m feeling up to it but I’ve been watching stranger things s3 recently and have been in a harringrove mindset for the last few weeks

Anyway here’s the list if you wanna read through it!

1. “I have something to tell you”

2. “Do you ever think about the future?”

3. “What’s in it for me?”

4. “Who did this? Who hurt you?”

5. “Please don’t cry”

6. “Let me help you”

7. “Why are you up so late?”

8. “Why are you lying to me?”

9. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

10. “If you’re going to break up with me, at least do it to my face”

11. “I’m worried about you” “don’t be.”

12. “I don’t deserve you”

13. “You don’t deserve me”

14. “Run away with me”

15. “I don’t believe in soulmates, but I’ll make an exception for you”

16. “Can we stay like this forever?” “You know we can’t.”

17. “Are you.. jealous?”

18. “Come over, I need you.”

19. “I think I’m in love with you”

20. “I missed you”

21. “Don’t leave”

22. “If you don’t stop I’m going to have to make you”

23. “Sharing is caring” “but I don’t care”

24. “I’ve never told anyone that before”

25. “You don’t get to say that to me!”

26. “How is this my fault?”

27. “Just leave me alone!”

28. “You aren’t going anywhere”

29. “Do that again and you’ll regret it”

30. “I don’t care”

31. “Don’t even think about coming back here”

32. “You need to calm the fuck down!”

33. “What did you just say to me?”

34. “I didn’t ask you to do that!”

35. “Get away from me!”

36. “You’re such a dork”

37. “How did I get so lucky?”

38. “I’m not needy, I’m just lonely”

39. “You’re my everything”

40. “If you don’t come here right now I’m going to have to make you”

41. “Don’t turn the light off!”

42. “I wish we could wake up together too”

43. “Open your eyes” “I can’t, I don’t want to”

44. “Didn’t you see that?”

45. “What’s that noise?”

46. “Please don’t leave me”

47. “Where am I?”

48. “No, please stop”

49. “Don’t look.”

50. “Come here, it’s okay. I’ve got you now.”

51. “It wasn’t your fault!”

52. “This isn’t what it looks like”

53. “This is.. exactly what it looks like”

54. “You don’t believe in the afterlife?”

55. “I’m a bad person”

56. “There’s so much blood”

57. “Is that a tattoo?”

58. “I’m yours, in every way you’ll have me”

59. “You might not like me, but you definitely want me.”

60. “I love you. I just love (name) more”

61. “Walk me home?”

62. “Your parents home?” “Never.”

63. “Please don’t let go”

64. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe”

65. “Stop telling me how I’m meant to be feeling!”

66. “I’ve been manipulated my whole life, so what would make you any different?”

67. “I might have slight trust issues”

68. “There’s nothing wrong with how you feel. Don’t let anyone tell you that what you’re feeling is wrong.”

69. “My heart tells me to kiss you, but my head tells me to walk away.” “Listen to your heart”

70. “I don’t know how to handle a broken heart”

71. “I don’t hold people close. It makes it easier for them to hurt you”

72. “It hurts when you touch me there” “what about here?”

73. “What do you need?” “Please just hold me”

74. “Pizza and beer? How can I say no to that”

75. “I just want to hold your hand”

76. “Why won’t you touch me?”

77. “I don’t want you to die”

78. “This isn’t how your life ends.”

79. “I need you to stay with me”

80. “You look so tired”

81. “Do you ever think about what it would be like to just crash your car into a tree and end it all?”

82. “Which part of me wasn’t enough?”

83. “How do you sleep at night? Knowing what’s out there?”

84. “What happened to your hand(s)?”

85. “Did he hurt you?”

86. “I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again”

87. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep”

88. “I don’t want to talk about it”

89. “I’ll always be here if you need me”

90. “I love you. You know that, right?”

91. “We should probably get up now”

92. “I’m trying to cheer you up”

93. “Get off, you’re heavy”

94. “Of course I trust you”

95. “Like what you see?”

96. “Don’t think I won’t fight you”

97. “If they mess with you, they’re messing with me”

98. “You think you can handle it?”

99. “I don’t want to hurt you”

100. “I need to know if you’re okay or not”

101. “Don’t test me”

102. “You need to rest!”

103. “You don’t need to worry about me”

104. “You’re not giving me much of a choice”

105. “Sometimes you have to think of yourself as a priority”

106. “You need to be more careful!”

107. “Promise me you’ll look after yourself”

108. “You’re not making any sense”

109. “You’re still cold, so I brought some more blankets and another one of your favourite hoodies”

110. “You’re not making this any easier”

111. “Why don’t you tell me why you really came here tonight?”

112. “Hey, I’m here, it’s okay, I’ll take care of you”

113. “You just can’t sleep without me, can you?”

114. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful”

115. “I like spending time with you”

116. “I wanna hear you say it”

117. “Is that my shirt?”

118. “I like seeing you in my clothes”

119. “I told you that I didn’t want to talk about it! Why can’t you just let it go?”

120. “I know you told me not to come, but I had to”

121. “I shouldn’t be here, but...”

122. “How did you find me?”

123. “Come inside, or you’re going to catch a cold”

124. “Why do you care about me?”

125. “It’s okay, we can talk about it in the morning.”

126. “You’re not gonna hurt me”

127. “What if I never get better?”

128. “What did I do wrong?”

129. “Please answer me!”

130. “I swear to god if you jump-”

131. “This is all my fault”

132. “Did I ever matter to you?”

133. “I can’t do this alone”

134. “Yell at me, or shove me, or hit me or something! Just please stop ignoring me!”

135. “Please don’t look at me”

136. “Why do you look at me like that?”

137. “Please just breathe”

138. “Where did you go?”

139. “Why are you doing this to yourself?”

140. “It’s okay, they’re gone now”

141. “Bad dream?”

142. “Why can’t I see?”

143. “I can’t feel my legs”

144. “Run away with me”

145. “You’re the better part of me”

146. “I’m so alone it hurts”

147. “Don’t stop”

148. “I’ve missed this”

149. “Tell me again”

150. “You could have died!”

There’s no real method to my madness, I’m just gonna use google to pick a number for me and find that prompt, or ask my friends randomly for a number but feel free so ask for specific prompts or even pick a random number for a mystery prompt! Also don’t be scared to suggest more than one, I’m more than happy to combine prompts and will be adding more to this list whenever I find or think of another prompt!

[wallywrites]

heartache, loneliness, guilt

Part 2: in the days between

(Part 1)

This is part 2 or a 3 part wolfstar au series taking place during the war; the Potters are in hiding, Remus is recruited by Dumbledore to go on secret missions, and Sirius is alone.

If y’all have any requests, let me know and I’ll see what I can do! (Any OTP is fine but wolfstar is my personal favourite 😉)

I hope y’all enjoy!

Part 3 coming soon!

~~~

It’s been three days since he left, and Sirius was back in that dark place. The heartache, the loneliness, the guilt all came rushing back the moment he watched his fiancé walk out the door.

The first night, he was already having nightmares to the point where he would wake up, wand pointed towards the door, heavy chest and full of fear, and by the second night he wasn’t sleeping at all.

Something that wasn’t unusual, whenever they took Remus. Whenever he was alone.

A sigh escaped him as he pushed himself from their bed, rubbing his hands over his face as he stared to the wall.

His eyes wandered over to their dresser, landing on the many picture frames which sat on top.

Pushing himself from the bed, he let his feet drag him towards the dresser, his eyes landing on his favourite photo.

They were sat in the Gryffindor common room, laughing at something’s James had said. Remus was sat in Sirius’ lap, his arms draped around his shoulders, and Sirius couldn’t help but smile at the image.

James had said that he’d never seen Sirius so happy than he was in that moment, and Sirius would respond by rolling his eyes, but he knew that it was true.

Sirius had never been as happy as he was in that moment, sitting and laughing with his closest friends, the love of his life on his lap, the only worries in their minds being who was going to win the next quidditch match.

He chuckled out, his chest beginning to hurt again as his eyes watered. He really did miss Remus, and his heart ached more when he thought about it.

Another sigh escaped him as he rubbed his eyes, before pushing himself from the room and towards the bathroom.

He knew what Remus would say if he saw the state which Sirius was in. “You have to look after yourself, Sirius! You can’t just stop living because I’m not there!”

It worried Remus, his heart aching as he thought of how Sirius treated himself, how he couldn’t look after himself when he was worried about his fiancé.

Sirius knew it was wrong of him to, but sometimes he couldn’t even force himself out of his bed.

It would only get worse, the longer Remus was away, so he knew for now, whilst he still had some motivation, some energy, he should at least try.

So, he entered the bathroom, turned the shower on and stripped.

The warm water defiantly helped to calm him down, his breathing steadying as he closed his eyes, trying to relax.

He began to wash himself, knowing that hygiene is somewhat important, and that if Remus were here, he would be scolded.

“I’m not kissing you until you’re clean, Sirius!” He would say, which usually resulted in Sirius chasing him around the room, eventually catching him, pulling him into his arms.

“Get off me, you smell!” He would say, laughing like a child as Sirius placed kisses all over him. Remus always insisted that he hated it, but they both know he really didn’t.

Sirius thought, about Remus, about the war, what was happening around them, what he wished it was like instead, and he was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed the water, which was now cold.

He sighed as he opened his eyes, turning the water off as he pushed himself through the shower curtain.

He sighed as he wrapped his towel around his waist, leaning his hands on the bench as he looked to the mirror, his eyes wandering over his own face.

He looked exhausted, he was exhausted. His hair clung to his skin, still soaking with water, the droplets dripping down onto him.

He sighed again, closing his eyes for a moment, but footsteps filled his ear, causing his eyes to open, his heart beating faster as he looked towards the door.

He grabbed his wand quickly, something he now keeps on him at all times as he moved towards the doorway slowly, listening as the footsteps got louder.

The door to their bedroom creaked opened as Sirius pushed himself into the room, pointing his wand towards the door.

He paused, flinching slightly as James raised his arms, stopping in his tracks.

“Hey! Just me” he said as Sirius let out a breath, running a hand through his hair, sending water flying off of him as he spoke.

“Bloody hell mate! What are you doing here?”

“I have a key” he said, his hand moving, the key bouncing in his hand as Sirius groaned out. His hand moved down his face as he rolled his eyes.

“No, why are you here?”

“To check on you.. It’s been three days.”

James knew that Sirius always struggled, but due to the restrictions given to both the Potters and Sirius by Dumbledore, communication between them was hard, which is why James felt the need to come here himself.

To check on his best friend. To check on his brother.

“.. come on, pack a bag you’re staying with us a few nights.”

“James-“

“I’m serious, Pads.

There was a time when he would have responded with “No, I’m Sirius”, but he couldn’t, he didn’t have energy to joke, to laugh. Which only worried James more.

“I’m fine, James.”

“You look like you haven’t slept in three days, I doubt you’ve eaten anything either. You’re not fine, Pads. I know you’re not.”

And he was right. He was always right when it came to how Sirius was feeling.

“Really, James, I’ll be okay-“ Sirius began, but was cut off as James grabbed his forearm, already knowing what was there.

Sirius didn’t have to look when James shoved his forearm into his face, already knowing what he was going to say.

“Look at it, Pads.” Was all he said as Sirius sighed, his eyes moving over his skin, a new scar forming amongst the others.

He wasn’t proud of what he did. But he hurt, and he suffered, and sometimes, it just got too much.

They all knew it happened, as much as Sirius would deny it, would say that he’s fine. And James knew him too well.

“You’re not fine. You need help. We want to help.” James practically pleaded at this point. Sirius was stubborn, but James didn’t care. Sirius was his brother, and his brother was hurting, hurting enough to want to leave permanent reminders of that pain.

Sometimes James wondered if it was about the pain, or if it made him feel closer to Remus, to his scars. But either way, he wanted to help. Needed to be there for his brother.

“It’s old, okay? It’s from a while ago.” He lied, as if it was natural, like he always did when it came to expressing what he was feeling. Worrying the people he cared about. James never brought it.

He pulled his arm from James as his own crossed over his chest.

“A while ago being within the last three days?”

Sirius tried to think of any other excuse why he couldn’t go. He wanted to. God he wanted to. But they shouldn’t have to deal with his suffering. He didn’t want them to.

“You know I’m not meant to leave” he said, knowing very well that Dumbledore would disapprove. But James didn’t care. James stopped caring about the professor’s approval the moment he took Remus from them. From Sirius.

“Look, we’re worried about you. And we miss you. Harry misses his uncle Padfoot” he said, causing a sigh to escape Sirius.

The truth was, Sirius didn’t want to share his problems, his issues, because he cared too much about them.

They had so much going on, that he didn’t want to burden them, didn’t want them focusing on looking after him. He wasn’t important enough.

Except he was. Sirius was so important, to everyone. And they never knew why he couldn’t see it. Why he couldn’t see just how important he is.

And he knew that he needed to be with someone, to distract him from his thoughts, but James didn’t give him a chance to say no, already opening their closet to begin packing.

He turned, throwing a shirt towards Sirius, along with a pair of pants as he grabbed the duffel bag from the floor.

“Get dressed, Pads” he said as Sirius sighed, following his orders. He pulled his pants over his legs, his shirt over his head, putting his wet towel in the hamper as he made his way to James.

James zipped up the bag as Sirius reached for a coat, pausing as his eyes stopped on the fabrics, most belonging to Remus.

James noticed, sighing out a he grabbed a coat belonging to Remus, knowing that Sirius would regret not choosing it later.

He pulled it from the hanger, helping to put in on Sirius as his eyes landed on his hair, still drenched with water, his shirt now wet.

“You haven’t even dried your hair, Sirius. You’re going to catch a cold.” He said, grabbing a beanie from the closet as he pushed it over the wet hair.

Sirius didn’t bother answering, the only thing on his mind being the smell of Remus. He clung the coat closer to him as James sighed, picking up the bag and closing the wardrobe.

“Come on, Pads.”

They made their way down the stairs, Sirius taking a seat at the bottom to put his shoes on.

James took a few steps into the lounge room, laughing out at the three unfinished puzzles, which laid over the carpet.

“He’s still just as messy?”

It wasn’t that Remus intended to be messy. It’s just what happened.

He would be doing something, and get excited or distracted by the next thing, and then he’d start something new, and would always promise to go back to the first thing, but that usually didn’t happen.

Sirius always thought it was because Remus wanted to know everything, had so much to learn and do, and not enough time for it all.

“We do them when he comes home, but I don’t want to finish one without him. By the time he gets back again he’s bored of the old one, so we start a new one..” Sirius explained as James chuckled out.

He used to do the same with books. Start reading one book, and then get excited about another book. Then he’d read the new book, until he found another he was excited for. And the cycle continued.

Usually with books though, he’d go back, finish ones he forgot to, because for some reason, leaving a book unfinished was one of the worst thing he could do, in his opinion.

“You ready?” James asked as Sirius stood, sighing as he made his way towards the door, pausing at the nightstand that stood, piles of sticky notes laying on top.

James knew what he was doing the moment he saw the sticky notes in Sirius’ hand. Something he started to do the first day Remus had left.

Every day, from the moment Remus would leave to the moment he came back, Sirius would leave a note, saying where he was if he had left the house. So that, if he wasn’t home when Remus returned, he would know exactly where to find him.

Sirius knew that Remus wouldn’t be back in the next few days, might not be back in a long while, but something in him made him write the note. He had to. Just in case.

He finished the note, sticking it to the wall as another sigh escaped him. James stood next to him, already holding the duffel bag as they left.

Sirius didn’t remember the cold walk to where the Potters were being kept, where they were hiding.

He knew it was long, and his hair had almost frozen by the time they walked inside the warm house.

James took his coat off, hanging it on the hooks by the door, but Sirius just held his tighter.

“Sirius!” Lily exclaimed happily as she pulled him into a hug. Sirius chuckled, his arms wrapping around her as she spoke.

“I missed you!”

“I missed you too, Lils.”

Lily pulled from the embrace, her eyes landing on his hair.

“Your hair is wet, you must be freezing”

“I’m fine, Lils”

James chuckled, kissing Lily on the cheek as they made their way into the living room. Lily moved towards the cot, which sat by the couch, reaching down to pick up her son as Sirius smiled.

“Harry missed his uncle” she said as she held the boy, moving towards Sirius. Sirius smiled, reaching out towards the child as Lily happily handed him over.

“Hey Harry, I missed you too” he said towards the baby, causing his heart to warm. Not in the same way it had been burning, but a warmth that made him calm. Harry always had that affect on him.

Harry always seemed to calm too, when Sirius held him. He used to joke about it all the time.

“I’m mans best friend, Prongs.”

“Oh bite me, Sirius”

“Is that a proposition?”

Sirius missed those days, when they could still laugh like nothing was wrong, joking together, like what they did when they were young.

“.. are you okay?” She asked as he looked towards her, answering as he always did.

“I’m fine”

“.. I can make you something to eat?”

“I’m really not hungry, Lils.”

“.. okay, but you’re having breakfast. And you don’t get a choice” she said sternly, a smile making its way on her face as he chuckled, nodding.

Lily knew what Sirius was like. They all knew. And she also knew that giving him an option, he’ll always choose the one he shouldn’t.

Always choose the “I’m fine” option, when he really needed to say “actually I’m struggling”, and “I need help”.

So she didn’t give him an option. She would compromise, but in the end, what Lily wants, Lily would get.

Plus, it was hard for any of them to say no to Lily.

So, he agreed, knowing that he was going to have to eat eventually. And he didn’t want them to worry about him, when they should be worrying about themselves, or about Harry, or about Remus.

Lily just smiled, nodding, but they knew he wanted to be alone. It wasn’t a bad thing, for him to be alone. Sometimes that’s exactly what he needed. But they always made sure to not be too far, for when he needed his friends.

And so they took Harry to bed, and Sirius found his way in their room. His room. Remus’ room, where they used to stay together whenever they would visit. And he was sad again.

“Pads..” James said, making his way into the room as Sirius sighed out again. He hadn’t moved in a few hours, and tears had stained his cheeks.

“It’s tomorrow tonight, James.”

James knew exactly what he was talking about, because ever since the beginning, since Remus began going on missions, he would keep track of every full moon. Every single one.

And the idea that Remus would be alone tomorrow made them all want to cry. Especially Sirius.

“.. I know, Pads.” He said simply as Sirius sighed, looking towards his brother. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to.

James sat next to him, pulling him into a hug. Something they didn’t do nearly enough.

“I miss him too. But you have to look after yourself, Pads. For him. You need to be whole when he gets back.”

Sirius knew he was right. Remus hated it when he came home to find Sirius in such a state. He blamed himself for it, which only upset Sirius more.

Because Sirius would never blame Remus for any of it. He loved Remus, and hated that Remus thought his suffering was his fault.

Sirius closed his eyes, sighing as he nodded his head, his arms wrapping around James.

And the next day went by with a blur. He didn’t remember much, barely slept the night before.

And suddenly it was night again, and it got worse. He got worse.

And so, the whole night he didn’t sleep. How could he?

Instead, he sat on the windowsill, staring up towards the full moon, heart aching, stomach churning. And it didn’t stop. It wouldn’t stop.

It never did.

~~~

[wallywrites]

Reddie au

“Bend over”

“You wish”

“Yeah, I do wish, but this is not the time”

Eddie rolled his eyes, his hands still clutching his stomach as Richie held him, rubbing his back.

“You need to get it out of your system, Eds, before you get more sick” Richie tried to plead, but Eddie responded like he always did.

“Don’t call me that.”

He didn’t like germs. Everyone knew that. And throwing up was one of his worst nightmares.

This would happen every now and again, Eddie feeling sick from god knows what, needed to get it out of him, but refusing to, holding it down, not letting it out.

Richie knew that it was hard for him, but also knew that if he didn’t throw it up, he would get worse. And Richie would rather spend the rest of the weekend hanging out with Eddie, not looking after him.

“Please, Eddie?”

“I’m fine.” He lied, trying to stand up again, failing as his stomach churned, the lump returning to his throat as he groaned.

“That doesn’t look fine to me.”

Eddie knew Richie was right, but he rolled his eyes anyway, continuing to argue back.

“I’ll sweat it out”

“No, you won’t.”

Eddie sighed out, looking up towards Richie, who continued to give him the same look.

Richie was always concerned for Eddie, often trying to hide it with a smile or a joke, but he couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows towards the boy in his arms.

“Come on, Eds. Please.” He pleaded, moving closer towards Eddie as he sighed.

As much as Eddie wished that he could just overcome his phobia that stopped him from doing something as simple as throwing up when he’s sick, he couldn’t.

And he couldn’t help the bubble forming in his throat as his chest became heavy, the idea of throwing up causing a shiver to run up his spine.

He felt even more sick when he thought about it, to the point where his eyes watered.

He wanted to cry. God he wanted to cry.

“Rich, I..-“ he began, his voice breaking slightly as he paused, shivered, tried to swallow the bubble that was stopping him from speaking, breathing.

Richie just sighed, moving closer until his stomach was touching the side of Eddie’s arm, calming him down only for a moment before his chest became heavy again.

“I know, I know Eds, but you’ll feel a lot better after.” He said as he continued to rub his hand across Eddies back, something he usually did to calm him down.

Eddie managed to stifle out a laugh, which caused his stomach to churn again, but he ignored it.

“I seriously doubt that.” He said, shaking his head, playing it off as if he wasn’t in pain, as if he wasn’t trying as hard as he could to not throw up.

As if the single thought of that action continued to cause shivers to run through his body.

“Maybe not, but it’s something you need to do.” He said calmly, gently as Eddie closed his eyes.

He knew that Richie was right. Which angered him. That he couldn’t argue back, could no longer refuse the inevitable.

And it scared him. It terrified him, and Richie knew it did. And he hated that it did.

“Hey, I’ll be right there, Eds.” Richie said as Eddie took a deep breath, looking up towards his boyfriend. He held the breath for a moment, his stomach dropping even more, before sighing out, nodding his head.

And then they went to the bathroom, and waited, and waited, and then he threw up.

And then he wanted to throw up again. And then he gagged, and he did.

And then he continued to cry, gagging again, pushing himself from the bathroom, shaking, shivering, a sight that Richie couldn’t help but sigh at.

Usually he would laugh. It reminded Richie of how someone would react if a spider found its way in their hair, and they shake and jump and continue to brush through their hair, even after they know it’s already gone.

But, he didn’t laugh. Instead he wanted to cry, knowing what Eddie was feeling, that he was feeling so sick, so disgusted.

And so he grabbed Eddie, who continued to shake and pace and swear, wrapping his arms around the boy, holding him.

Eddies heart didn’t stop beating through his chest as he shook his head, his arms, trying to ignore the taste that still lingered in his mouth.

“That’s fucking disgusting! Fuck. Shit. Fuck” he continued, shaking again as Richie chuckled again, holding him tighter, leaning his head in the crook of his neck.

The tears didn’t stop falling, and Eddie still felt sick, even more sick than before. But he knew, somewhere deep, very deep in his heart, very, very, extremely deep down, that he would feel better. Once he got the taste of vomit out of his mouth, once he forgets what happened.

And so Richie pulled back, smiling gently towards his boyfriend as he held his arms, pulling him towards the bathroom.

“No, Richie, stop!”

“It’s okay, I’ll clean it up okay you don’t even have to look at it. But I know you will feel better after a shower” he said as Eddie sighed, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed himself into Richie, who only chuckled, holding him tightly, shielding him from the mess.

Richie knew that most of his sickness landed in the toilet, not much there to clean up, but knew how Eddie was, knew that it was better for him to ignore it completely.

He continued to pull Eddie until they both stood in the shower together. He pulled from Eddie, who continued to shake, his eyes staying closed.

And so Richie undressed him, turned the shower on, passed him his tooth brush and paste, and closed the shower curtain, blocking Eddie from the rest of the bathroom, from the sickness.

And Eddie stood under the water, brushing his teeth to the point where his gums hurt, his tongue going numb. The taste was long gone, but he kept scrubbing, and scrubbing, and scrubbing, and-

“Eddie, you’re going to hurt yourself” he said as he stepped into the shower, the bathroom now clean, his clothes in a pile on the floor alongside Eddie’s.

He reached for the toothbrush in his hands as Eddie sighed out, still shaking. But he handed it over, his mouth stinging.

Richie placed his brush and paste back next to the sink, before making his way back into the shower, closing the curtain as he turned back to Eddie.

His arms wrapped around the boy, pulling him into his embrace as Eddie sighed out, leaning his head onto Richie’s shoulder.

“Do you feel better?” Richie asked as Eddie sighed again, his arms wrapping around Richie as he pulled his boyfriend closer, his breath beginning to steady.

His heart was still beating so hard that Richie could feel it in his own chest, his arms rubbing Eddie’s back as he sighed out again.

“A little” he said, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath.

And that’s how they stayed, for ten minutes, an hour or two. They didn’t know, they couldn’t tell. All they knew was that they were with each other, and that was enough.