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trashmouth-richie · 8 months

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬

masterlist

𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: implications of: adult prostitution, physical child abuse, child neglect, poverty. series trigger warnings include drug use and abuse, alcohol use and abuse, neglect, etc

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: eddie is determined to make things right, past hardships mentioned. 6k — eddie leaves in 1982 when he is sixteen, there is a scene that takes place in 1984 when reader is eighteen and eddie has already been gone for two years at this point.

He watched the sun creep through the blinds, the Indiana skyline sending hues of pink and purple against the dawning morning.

Birds chirped noisily, greeting each other in flapping winged ‘hello’. He wished he could feel their joy, wished his eyes didn’t throb from lack of sleep. His throat was caked with the dry cool air still blowing through the vents.

He so badly wanted to be right, have an answer for one of his many questions that kept weeding into more and more. An unending tether.

Rubbing wet from his eyes he swung his long legs to the floor. Back aching from the heavy spring loaded frame, he stands and heads toward the shower itching the curls on his head.

The water from the shower head was warm and welcoming, bringing forth a blanketed calm to his cold exterior. The water washed over his face and wet his hair almost down the length of his back. As he scrubbed his body his mind was elsewhere.

A million different “what if’s” shattered through his mind. What if… he came back sooner, you had run away with him, what if you had answered his letters, what would have happened to you if you weren’t left here to rot like the foundation of Forest Hills?

Did you think he didn’t care about you? That he was better off? He wasn’t. And if he could have come back he would’ve. It’s not as if his old man would have welcomed him back with open arms. He’d be lucky to get back handed instead of the usual a meaty fist to the side of the head.

But Eddie would have done it, for you. And he’ll be kicking his own ass about it until the end of time for not taking the risk. For not having you hop through your window like you’d done so many times before, and run away with him.

Hand in hand. Into the dark night. Rescuers style.

With shampoo barely rinsed, he hits the faucet with a bang. Too many years of guilt hung like a weighted cape on his shoulders, but now? Now he had the wits and means to make it right. A promise he kept to himself, to you.

The itchy towel dried his skin hastily as his fingers raked through his hair, tussling his bangs into a messy submission. His watch beeps on the nightstand, an alarm telling him he had only fifteen minutes before he was supposed to have his meeting.

It was settled, Eddie wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Certainly someone in this town had to know where you were living.

Locking the door to the motel he dropped the keys into his pocket and swung a leg over his Harley, he took a deep breath as he revved the engine, satisfied with his decision, a rose blossoming in his stomach, if he could leave Hawkins; so could you.

The smell of bleach was an odd comfort to you. The astringent burn in your nose brought a calming peace, cleanliness. Washing away spills and stains from any surface it touched. Today in particular were the bedsheets from the club.

You splash another cupful into the correct compartment for good measure, slamming it shut and inserting quarters into the slotted mouth of the washing machine—cranking the dial to the heaviest wash and hottest water. Your head pounded and throbbed, the hangover headache worsening by the hour.

The sheets spun around and around as water filled the drum, and you stared in a hypnotizing trance at the thick glass door, thinking about the list of to-do’s Rick had told you needed to be done in his absence.

“… don’t forget the laundry, okay? Nobody wants to fuck a whore on a dirty bed. I left you something special on the nightstand,” he winked before bending down to kiss your cheek, his suitcase already tucked into the backseat after you packed it and placed it there yourself, “don’t do it all at once, it’s some pretty strong shit.”

He waits for you to nod and he bites his lip, “be good, Tommy’s in charge for the next two weeks while I'm gone.”

He smirked half assed and flicked his sunglasses down onto the bridge of his nose, climbing into his car and reversing down the driveway.

A choked breath finally releasing from your lungs as his tires squeal on the black top.

A wave of nausea hits you from the sickening tickle of broken winged butterflies tumbling in your stomach at the way Rick had smiled at you.

Making you wish bleach was edible. Maybe it would kill the butterflies, poisoning them from the inside, just as you had been.

Rick wasn’t the big bad wolf of your life. That title was held to another man, one whose blood coursed through your own veins. Was he an upstanding hero type? Not at all, his wings were clipped like any other fallen angel.

But he was right lastnight— he came to your aid at the time you desperately needed someone. And in a weird, sickening way, he had saved you.

If being “saved” meant going from one evil to another that is.

You weren’t naive enough to think that you were dating. What Rick and you had was simple…cash register transaction, complete with the clinks and clanging bell noises. He provided you with shelter, kept your needs met, gave you a job. Your payment for such luxuries transpired behind closed doors.

It wasn’t love, quite literally a situation formed on the grounds of a business deal. But oh how foolish you were to think it was anything more than that in the beginning.

—

One black garbage bag. That’s all that was needed to collect your belongings, and it wasn’t even full.

“Do you really have to go?” Lolly’s wide eyes were full of tears, knobby knees tucked to her chin as she sat on your shared bed, watching you unpack drawers and slide a big silver ring over your thumb.

You have always been strong for her. Protecting her from the evils that took place in this trailer. Sheltering her away when dad’s fist was looking for someone to blame after mom left. Bruises faded easy on your skin, and you’d take them again and again if it meant hers never had to be painted.

“Lover’s Lake isn’t that far, you could bike there.” your tone is nonchalant like you aren’t being torn to shreds from the inside out, and it’s taking everything in you to not break down in front of her.

She sniffs loudly, “everyone leaves me.”

The words break your heart, and you can practically feel the tissue ripping inside your chest.

“Mom, Molly, Pickles, and now you,” her lip quivers and the tears drop on the tops of her knees.

“That’s not true,” you tut, rubbing a hand down her back, “Pickles was probably a hundred years old when you found him. Even old Jimmy said that he’d been living here longer than anyone.”

Deflecting with humor was something you picked up to have Lolly look on the bright side when things were worse for wear. But deep down you hurt just like she did.

Molly would have been almost eleven now, and you hadn’t seen her since you were her age. You remembered her birthday was the 17th of July and still lit a candle on a gas station twinkie to celebrate it every year.

“You’ll get the entire room to yourself, that’s pretty cool Lolls, right?”

She shrugs, wiping a tear away with a pink polished hand.

You know it’s time to be serious. It’s time to warn her, to try to keep her safe while you aren’t under the same roof anymore.

Taking her hands in yours and squeezing you plead to her, “stay out of his way, don’t speak unless he asks, don’t stop going to school.”

Lolly opens her mouth to interrupt but you stop her with another pleading look. You had already left school last year, Dad claiming he needed you to help take care of things at home rather than “waste time at that fuckin’ place.”

“Remember the treehouse in the woods, behind the grove of cedar trees by the big gray rock?” she nods silently, “…nobody knows it’s there but me and E—” your voice breaks on the first syllable of his name and you clear your throat, “it’s safe there,” you don’t tell her how you had made sure to stock the treehouse with her favorite things as a little escape for her. Magazines, cans of food with pull top lids, packaged sweets, your favorite nail polish, a warm blanket, pillow, flashlight etc… anything to keep her company to keep her safe.

“.. it’s kinda cozy.”

The tip of your nose tickles and your throat feels heavy as you try to swallow down sobs. Not here. She couldn’t see you that way.

“I'm not leaving because I want to… you know that, yeah?”

Her little arms fling around your neck and she squeezes you as hard as an eight year old could, and you hold her tight, wishing you could morph together.

The bedroom door flies open and the boom of your dad’s bark ricochets off every surface, breaking the sound barrier. “Fuckin’ Christ Clove, you ready or what?”

Lolly’s fingers grip you tighter and you hug her just as tight. You whisper quietly to her, “don’t cry in front of him, he doesn’t like it, I’ll come back as soon as I can.”

You let her go.

Your own tears wetting your cheeks adding to your wet shoulder, but you smile through the pain of your heart breaking.

Dad scoffs in the background, muttering under his breath something about how he’s not raising a bunch of fucking crybabies.

His meaty hand grabs your wrist and yanks you upwards, the stench of unwashed armpits and a thick ash of his cigar fill your senses, drying your tears immediately.

“Let’s go!” he roars, “makin’ me look bad in front of the new client.”

He looks around the room with shifty eyes, as if he might say something else, as if he might apologize for the bullshit you’ve had to go through, but when you’re a living breathing demon yourself, you don’t have a conscience, and he rubs his other hand over his balding head, rubbing the grease and gel further into his comb-overed scalp, “…don’t need him thinkin’ I’m a liar because you’re too goddamn selfish to be on time.”

Your virginity, your innocence was traded to a new drug smuggler in Hawkins for the price of discounted dope. Bought like property, sold like cattle.

Black plastic fisted hotly in your hand as you walked behind your dad’s crippled sway down the length of the hallway to the front door.

The childhood home you had imagined leaving behind was blurring past you. The cracked windows, the creaky floors, ratty carpet that was barely glued together, the water stained tub with the leaking faucet. It was all going to be part of your past.

If only Lolly could fit.

Fit inside the one plastic garbage bag.

The jagged chip in the corelle plate was keeping Eddie’s fingers occupied as Wayne’s girlfriend sniffled and quietly blew her nose, talking about the final days of him being alive.

Cancer. Caught late and untreatable. He lived a whole year longer than what the doctor’s had expected him to, that alone was a miracle.

Eddie was wrong. Wayne didn’t own a trailer or even live in Forest Hills. He had been renting a small apartment before he got sick and apparently had paid his rent in advance until the end of the year, giving Patty somewhere to stay while she cared for him and the comfort of not having to worry about making ends meet.

Boxes labeled with loopy handwritten sharpie were stacked in the living room and leaning against the kitchen table that Eddie and Patty were sitting at along with half of a sandwich still sitting on her plate.

She wipes her nose and shoves round glasses into her auburn graying hair, dotting her under eyes from another trickle of tears.

Eddie felt bad for her, and maybe he would feel some sort of grief if he had known his uncle more than just the handful of times he had gotten to know him. He was embarrassed to say he couldn’t even remember what Wayne Munson really looked like.

“He was a great man, talked about you a lot,” she half whispered, picking at the crust of her sandwich, “always felt like he should have done..something.”

Eddie didn’t accept pity, it was a Munson trait. So he did what he always did, brushed off any seriousness with a charmer’s smile.

“No worries ma’am, honestly, I- I managed just fine.”

She nods and reaches into the front pocket of her apron, her voice meek and hesitant, “I have everything packed. The crematorium opens on Monday, appointment’s at ten.”

A brass key twinkles between her fingers, “I have a sister out in California… with Wayne gone I don’t,” her voice warbles and she looks around the apartment, “…there’s nothing here for me, anymore.”

A soft wrinkled hand slides towards Eddie as Patty leans forward on the chair, the key scratching against the wooden table top.

Eddie smiles softly, knowing the feeling of not being able to stay after tragedy strikes. And from the sound of it Patty deserved a quiet life.

She explained that he had until December to figure out what should happen with the apartment, but everything else was already put into motion. Maybe he could even find someone to sublet the place until then.

Her soft eyes still wet as her lips tremble, “you’re more than welcome to go through the boxes and take what you need before the folks down at the Salvation Army load everything up.”

“When do you leave?” he asks after taking a sip of unsweetened iced tea.

Patty folds her hands and smiles for the first time since Eddie had knocked on the door, “Greyhound leaves this afternoon.”

Four loads of sheets were folded and heaped into a basket that was on the verge of tipping over in the back seat of your car. The Diet Coke you bought at the Spin n’ Dry left your stomach grumbling more than it had before you slurped the carbonated drink down in a few gulps.

With a knock of your hip into your driver's door it slammed home, the noise rattling your brain like a jug of shaken pop. Hangover still ringing loud between your ears.

The world’s darkest sunglasses couldn’t have shaded away the blinding rays of the sun, the heat felt like it was cooking your skin, making your temples and upper lip drip with sweat, an unusually warm day in the middle of May.

You didn’t recognize the plates on the motorcycle you had parked next to. Definitely not from Indiana. But maybe Wendy’s boyfriend finally got out of prison in Ohio? or was it Colorado?

In desperate need for a shower, you hoist your purse strap higher on your shoulder. Only having a few hours before you needed to clock in at the club, you didn’t have time to take a nap, or grab something to eat.

You could delegate your tasks to someone else but most of the girls had other jobs during the daylight hours. The only one wrapped up day and night in the club was you.

The apartment building you resided in had a shared water heater between the 6 units, meaning that hot water was scarce. But you were used to the unpredictable temperature of the water, and on this sweltering day you were glad when the water hit your back like icy daggers.

Like the bleach, it was an odd comfort.

The cool water jarred you awake a little, allowing your senses to come back to you after a night of inebriation, god knows you needed it.

Working shampoo through your hair you mentally check off things you’d completed, and everything else to be done for tonight’s shift.

Laundry ✔️

Set up testing appointments ✔️

Inventory ✔️

Restock napkins

Advertise for Ginger’s position

Call Kenny

Saturday’s were nickel wing night, and that brought with it a crowd of regulars and the occasional out of towners looking for a hot meal, and the typical extras that Queen’s offered.

Tommy had the brilliant idea last year that the girls would dress up in angel wings with halos or devil horns with a spiked tail to replicate the sauce of sweet or spicy wings the kitchen served. As miserable as it was to trot around dressed like a she devil, the tips on saturday nights were good, even if you left with greasy BBQ sauce fingerprints on your skin.

Tilting the devil horns into submission atop your head the plastic cherry red pleasers hung by the straps from your painted fingers as you click the front door locked with your keys and shuffle with slippered feet down the stairs.

Your purse jingled and clanked around as you descended down the steps. A shift at the club meant you could never be too sure on what you might need. Barrettes, an extra pair of panties, hair pick, bobby pins, mascara, lip liner, lotion, tylenol, icy hot for Jolene and the most important of all, an unlabeled package left on a nightstand.

The sidewalk scuffed the rubber bottom soles of your slippers as you walked to the parking lot. A throat cleared loudly followed by a voice saying your name. First, middle and last.

A voice you’d recognize in heaven or hell. His voice.

He was standing next to what you now realized was his motorcycle, of course the out of state plates made sense. His jaw was pressed into a tight clench, a Marlboro dangling from his ringed hand.

Eddie looked different with the sun’s ray on him compared to the haunting neon lights from the club. They colored his hair a pretty caramel swirled in coffee tendriled curls. Standing next to him you finally comprehended how much taller he was, but when the cheshire cat like smile broke across his face you found it hard not to smile back but you managed not to.

The scowl on your face sets him back. Hurt riddling his chest. Your eyebrows pinched the same way they used to but it was never a look that he saw very often, at least not towards him.

Your face was scarred, but beneath all the difference and the makeup he’d never seen you wear, he still could see that girl. His best friend.

You roll your eyes and turn away from him, stomping quick to your car and shoving the key into the lock, still not finding it easy to look in his eyes, “stalking is illegal in Indiana.”

His nose rumbles with a wrecked laugh, blowing smoke from his nostrils and he chuckles, “didn’t know you lived here.”

“Sure,” you say over your shoulder in an annoyed huff, “you just happen to show up at my work and now at my apartment. Totally by accident, or is this your bullshit idea of fate?”

He opens his mouth to speak and you cut him off before he can utter a word, “.. that was rhetorical, I don’t want your answer.”

“Looks like you got your license after all.”

You know what he’s referring to, and you hate the way a smile spreads against your lips. He was trying to break your shell, not knowing it was rock hard and super glued shut.

His olive branch is stretched out again, arm aching from the strenuous amount of leaves and offerings, but it quickly catches fire from the embers harbored in your stare when you whip around to face him.

“Well I’m not sixteen anymore, and I definitely didn’t need your help getting it.”

His face falls, “Cl—..”

You cut him off again, “I gotta go, I have a million things to do before we open tonight and you’re wasting my ti—”

This time he’s interrupting, talking fast to avoid your annoyed pouts, “can we talk, please? I’ll expl—”

You both might be older but the bickering between you could mimic teenagers, neither of you letting the other finish a sentence.

Rage pours through you like lava, hot angry and red. The wave of hurt it’s riding on stabs like a knife. “I don’t…goddamnit, I don’t have time for this Eddie!”

You look at him letting his warm eyes capture yours and you notice how handsome he’s gotten, how his features fit him well, but it doesn’t stop you from delivering the hurt you were feeling for years, “… and most importantly I don’t want to make time for you.”

You spin on your slippered heel. Shoving down the burning ache of regret and possibly vomit from your pounding headache.

Fuck this, and FUCK him.

Somewhere between the haste of needing to flee and fumbling with your keys, your bag tumbles to the ground, scattering your belongings all over the asphalt.

Eddie reaches down to pick up your things the same time you swing your door open hard, and in a comical blur the door connects with his bent head knocking him flat on his ass.

You gasp and he hisses through his teeth, mumbling curse words and rubbing his forehead.

Stifling a giggle you tuck your lips behind your teeth as you bend at the waist to look at him, your fingers fly to his head trying to pry his hands away.

“Are you..”

“Don’t laugh,” Eddie fake grumbles, a wide smile on his lips, “don’t you dare..”

You bite your lip to stop giggling, “‘m not...let me— oh c’mon, let me see it.”

Finally getting his fingers from his head you’re able to take a look at the small cut above his eyebrow.

“Jesus Christ Slick, when did you learn to box?”

You’re both laughing now, falling so easily in sync again it was making your head spin. And for the first time in a long time, you let your guard slip.

His palm is braced against his head, holding the growing goose egg he was sure to get.

“Please,” you mutter between raspberry blown lips, “I’ve never fought anyone, not with you arou—”

You look at him when your sentence falls flat. Both of you knowing that Eddie’s fists got into more fights defending you than himself. Trailer trash or not, he wasn’t about to let Hawkins jockstrap wearers treat you like dog shit.

Eddie winces when your fingers graze over the small gash by his outer brow, “how bad is it killer?”

“Remember when you tripped over your own feet playing hide-n’-seek in the cemetery?”

Eddie snorted through his nose at the memory, “you mean when you had to give me a piggyback ride back home?”

“I forgot that part… this isn’t nearly as bad, maybe a tenth of that.”

You dig through the remaining stuff in your purse, finding the small tin full of bandaids and neosporin you kept for blisters. “Should have taken you to the ER that night.”

Thumbing through the collection, you find a suitable sized bandage.

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, “I’m sure Al would’ve loved gettin’ that bill in the mail.”

His eyes meet yours and you notice the pool of childhood fear bubbling to the surface. Years have come and gone since then, but one never really forgets the pain from those days… How could you when the evidence was scarred into your skin?

You shut your eyes and shake your head as you peel the slicked backing from the bandaid— a yellow cartoon background with Mario and Luigi.

Eddie gives you a look with a cocked eyebrow and you shrug, moving his bangs back from his face so you could get a good look at the cut.

His hair is surprisingly soft like french silk. You wonder if his girlfriend buys special shampoo for him meant for curly hair.

Placing the sticky bandage against his cream colored skin, you rub the seams of the bandaid with your thumbs so it’ll stay in place. His breath fans across your forearms, and he watches in silence at your first aid handiwork.

You haven’t been this close to Eddie in years. It shouldn’t be weird, it shouldn’t feel awkward to touch someone’s forehead. The same someone you had shared a bed with more times than you could even count. But this was different, you were kids, teens then, now you were both adults. Living completely separate lives.

Clapping your hands in a wiping motion you unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, “there, good as new.”

He pushes his hands on the pavement and stands up, as you pick up the rest of your things, tossing them absentmindedly into your purse.

“Thanks doc,” he breathes, clearing his throat, “I don’t mean to be a dick.. don’t hit me again, but are you wearing horns?”

You scoff and look up at him. He stands tall above you, and you actually take notice of what he’s wearing. Black boots and a light wash of denim jeans, a navy and brown patterned flannel fit snug against his arms, rolled to his elbows.

He looks like a grown man, no longer a trailer park boy with holes in his jeans and stolen sneakers on his feet.

A large hand is extended down to you and you take it, his right your left, the two tattoos aligning for the first time in what seems like forever.

When you stand to your full height he’s still inches taller than you are, and where your noses used to be practically at the same level, yours barely hits him in the chest now.

“Does Hawkins celebrate Halloween in May now?”

You shake your head and let out a sad sigh, “it’s umm.. it’s for work.”

You’re embarrassed that you have to explain to your old friend that you have a job that requires you to dress like a slut, that your ass literally paid for your car, that since he left your life turned upside down for the worst. Your cheeks are hot and you pick at the polish on your nails.

“Oh,” his voice grows small, “that’s…”

“…yeah.”

You’re praying for a miracle, for lightning to strike, or a car to backfire— anything, to have this awkward conversation die.

You don’t have to wait long.

“Well,” Eddie exhales, swinging his arms, “since you beat me up in my first twenty four hours of being home, I think you owe it to me to let me take you for a cup of coffee,” he smirks, fingers gliding over the bandage and shaking his hair back into place.

Home.

A common word that had held no meaning to you, but with Eddie here standing in the flesh, breathing the same air and staring down at you—the four letters felt colossal, and it made your stomach flip.

“I don’t like coffee.”

Eddie’s smile falls. The small glint of hope in his eyes dimmed out like a burnt lightbulb. Leaves on his olive branch curled and charred next to your embers.

Keys jingle in his pocket with his hung head and he fumbles with his words.

“Sure, yeah.. sorry. I just wanted to..” his shoulders sag, “it’s been a long time, Clove.”

You stare blankly at him. Whatever wind was in his sails was snuffed out by you, and you fucking hated yourself for that. All you wanted to do was scream in his face.

Tell him yeah, it has been a long time because he left you. He was the one who skipped town in the middle of the night. It was him who left nothing but— goddamnit… his doe eyes could convince a nun to rob a bank, hopefully you don’t end up regretting this..

“Do you like wings?”

—

“Okay easy! Easy!”

“I got it, calm down!”

“The van’s top heavy y'know? This fucker will flip like that.” Eddie says snapping his fingers, his other hand was gripped right on the ‘oh shit’ handle knuckles glaring white.

Eddie did it. Between working weekends at Z’s shop and saving whatever nickel and dime he had, he finally saved up enough cash to buy the shitty brown van the Templeton’s had for sale in the front of their trailer.

The windshield was cracked, the passenger door was permanently locked shut. But to Eddie it was a means of escape, a venture that Al Munson had no say in, it was dirty and the seats were mouse bitten and full of dust. It was paradise.

“Just ease into the parking lot, try not to hit anyone..” a smirk catches the corner of his lip, “but if you do, aim for Higgin’s sedan.”

This wasn’t your first time driving Eddie’s beloved vehicle, usually you practiced on the open highway, turning onto gravel and coasting with Eddie’s hand waving out the window, but today he thought it’d be good for you to drive in town.

You were nervous, never really having to maneuver through vehicles or watch for anything more than a scared rabbit from the tall ditch weed, driving in town was wracking every nerve to the highest meter.

“Eddie, uh, how do I park? There aren’t any lines.”

He mouths around a cigarette, pointing lazily with his forefinger, “here’s fine, just whip her in there.”

The van comes to an abrupt halt, and the grinding sound of metal on metal groans loudly. You sit wide eyed and breathing heavily, foot still on the brake. The cigarette from Eddie’s mouth falls on his lap.

What would have been a normal ass chewing and possibly a slap to the back of the head from your dad, is only met with a grin from your bestfriend.

He reaches over and throws the gear shift into park. And coaxes your hands from their death grip on the steering wheel.

Fear riddles through your body and you stutter an apology, “I’m sorry Eddie! I’ll pay for it!” he says your name but you ignore him, “how— however much it is! I swear! I’ll—”

A hand clamps tight over your mouth and your eyes well with tears, ready to flood over the dam of your eyelashes.

“Clove, stop…it's fine,” his eyes plead for you to believe him but you don’t, your mouth keeps moving against his hand so he holds your face gently with both hands, “I swear, it’s not a big deal.. alright? You think I care about the paint job on this big lug o’ shit? C’mon, scoot over.”

You move across the center counsel and back into the heaping pit of whatever Eddie thought was necessary to keep back there. His long legs scramble and tangle up in the steering wheel before he’s sitting comfortably behind the driver’s seat and you crawl to the passenger side, wiping at your eyes.

“‘m hungry, you?”

Of course you were, the box of scalloped potatoes you made for supper last night ended up being crunchy and watery. The last pieces of bread went to make Lolly a mayo and cheese sandwich. The potato monstrosity ended up feeding the strays, and your belly grumbled ever since.

“Not really,” you lied.

Eddie shrugs and throws the van in reverse, wincing as the van groaned against the rear fender of Jonathan Byers’ olive colored car.

“Don’t worry,” he lies, “he won't even notice.”

—

The powdered gas station donuts left a white film of sugar on your lips. Yoo-hoo dripped down Eddie’s chin as he took another long swig, biting the rope of a Twizzlers in half.

Eddie had spread a flannel blanket he had “borrowed” on the floor in the back of his van, and you both climbed in amongst the trash and nonsense to enjoy a sugary breakfast.

The crinkled white donette’s wax paper is tossed behind him carelessly and he reaches for a second bottle of Yoo-hoo. “So much better than first period, McCannon can suck a fat one.”

You wipe your lips on the back of your hand, “I kinda like History, it’s interesting.”

Eddie snorts, “you like History because you’re hot for teacher.”

Mr. James McCannon was good looking, but that’s not what made you interested in his class. He was your roundabout, average middle aged family man.

A father, a husband, a friend, a coach, an employee—but most importantly, he was respected, put together, polished.

He probably taught his kids to play catch, took family vacations to some National Park, and without a doubt, his lawn was more than likely manicured in a way that looked magazine ready at all times.

His wife brought his lunch in a brown paper sack, toting along a thermos which you imagined would be filled with a creamy tomato soup or maybe coffee. She always had their toddler in tow. A smiling little cutesy thing, sparkling eyes and dressed to the nines. She too was an average American woman, cookie cut and baked to perfection— still that wasn’t what drove you to like his class.

It came down to something rather simple. You were jealous.

Seeing a father be so loving and caring for his own child, excited to see the young kid and always giving a kiss to her little cheeks, it drove you mad. The way his eyes lit up when his little family knocked on the door, the way they seemed so fucking happy— made you yearn for normalcy.

Because your life would never be like theirs.

Guaranteed little Kelly McCannon didn’t get cigars flicked into her face whenever her dad felt like she deserved it. She probably would never have to care for a sibling like a parent, never have to rummage through couch cushions in search of loose change to buy a gallon of milk.

She would never know the gut wrenching feeling of having her mother pack up only one of their siblings and disappear into the night, never to be seen again.

So the answer was no— you weren’t in love with Mr. McCannon. You were completely enthralled that he was a good person, a doting father, and that more than likely— never in your lifetime or the next, would you experience the bond of unconditional love from a parent, probably not from anyone.

Scowling, and burying the sadness of the truth, you shove his arm, “you’re hogging all the Yoo-hoo.”

He laughs, leaning forward and handing the glass bottle over. The dark blues and purples around his eye from last week were now shaded to a gross jaundice-like color, much like the fingerprints on your arms.

Eddie stays quiet for a while, watching you nibble your breakfast, taking small sips at the chocolate drink. He picks at his jeans, fraying the holes wider, his knuckles still swollen from Tommy’s chin.

A fight he’d gladly start again if he ever caught that son of a bitch trying to— Eddie shook his head, he’d fucking kill him, plain and simple.

Your lip was still split, and he had spent an hour picking gravel out of your palm while you sat on his bathroom counter. Snotty nose and tears flowing from your eyes.

It was probably then— he realized, or maybe it was years earlier when you were both younger. But right now sitting across from you in the dingy air of his van, Eddie is sure he’s never seen anyone look more beautiful.

The rolling feeling in his gut he got whenever he couldn’t fix what was making you sad, when you came to school with new bruises on your skin unable to stay awake in class, the countless times you had snuck out and showed up at his window in the middle of the night when things got really bad— it all came to fruition, like a lightbulb going off in his brain.

You meant more to him than anyone in his life, he’d protect you with his own life if he had to. You were all he ever needed.

He knew at thirteen, and he knew now. When he thought of the word love, he thought of you.

♡tag list: @dashingdeb16 @emxxblog @mopeymopeymouse @pretendthisnameisclever @mommybaby-witch @tlclick73 @figmentofquinn @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @whenshelanded @micheledawn1975 @3rd-conchord 😭 @leelei1980 @browneyes8288 @emilyslutface @mmunson86 @josephquinnsfreckles @eddiesxangel @elegantkoalapaper @corrodedcoffincumslut @nailbatanddungeon @sidthedollface2 @winchester-angel @mrsjellymunson @joannamuns9n @mewchiili @spacedoutdaydreamer @emxxblog @maybeisthemoon @str4ngergirlw0rld @chrrymunson @insertcoolnameherethanks @kellsck @prestinalove @mandyjo8719 @onegirlmanytales @veravee-blog @taintedcigs @eddies-acousticguitar @oeuryale @kthomps914 @bangaveragewhitewine @lil-quinnie @definitionwanderlust @madaboutjoe @littledemondani @eiightysixbaby @usedtobecooler @writinginthetwilight @jessisacarica

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series #eddie fanfiction #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction

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paperbackribs · 8 months

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for the 'Eddie freaks out over How to Survive a Werewolf Attack' post and those who missed the upload on Ao3, this is the second part of the chapter from Steve's POV, with a little protective stobin to delight

🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇

Steve leaves the pulse of the woods behind him as he emerges from the trees that abut his backyard. He’d smelled Robin long before shifting back into his human form, the sharp mint of her shampoo mixing alongside the sweet earthiness that he now attributes to family. Never having had one, he nevertheless knows that the combination will always mean sister.

Circling the pool, its night lights cast an uncanny, rippling blue across the surface, he heads to where she sits under the warm yellow lights, propped on her elbows against the wrought-iron patio table. In her cupped hands rests a book with an overflowing tree protectively sheltering a dog and her pups, Woman and Nature carefully inscribed above them.

She stirs as he approaches, inserting a receipt between the pages to save her place and resting it beside her. Looking into her concerned eyes, Steve grimaces. “Well, that went well,” he says lightly, feeling the need to inject some humour into the memory or he may be tempted to dwell on the ache that wants to rise instead.

Robin’s face softens and he knows that she can feel his hurt even without him saying it. They’re so connected sometimes that he wonders if his wolf forged something with her when they’d sat there, bound and interrogated by Russians, only able to depend on each other. “He was a little freaked out from the unexpected is all and he just needs to get used to the idea before…”

She trails off and Steve finishes her sentence, “Before he can be in the same room as me? Robs, the guy practically had a panic attack on my mother’s Giorgetti rug. I could smell his fear: he was terrified that I was going to eat him or something.”

Robin’s lips firm as she drums her fingers over the book cover, “Yeah, well, that’s his problem. After you left, we gave him the rundown; that you’re just a normal wolf—”

Steve snorts: there’s nothing normal about his transformations at all, but Robin ignores him to continue, “—and hopefully if he’s affected by the bites then it’ll turn him into a normal bat too.”

“And how’d he take that?” Steve asks curiously.

“Oh, another meltdown,” Robin says blithely, “He’s now convinced that he’s going to turn into Bela Lugosi and will be prowling the night for his victims before we know it.” Steve laughs despite himself, already able to imagine Eddie making exaggerated gestures in the middle of the group.

“Did he hiss like a vampire?”

“Nah, but he did do that thing, you know with the cape?” She shields half her face with her forearm as if hiding menacingly behind it. Fond amusement fills Steve, as if often does when faced with Eddie’s dramatics only for it to quickly drain away at the reminder of how drastically he had taken Steve’s shift.

Robin notes his change of mood and scowls at an absent Eddie. “Scaredy-cat,” she mutters darkly, “Should have called him a scaredy-bat to his face.”

Steve chuckles and leans forward to gently tug on a lock of her blonde hair, “And then give him my nail bat…”

“So, he’d be a scaredy-bat with a nail bat that lost his bat-le shield.”

Steve waggles his hand in a so-so motion, “Could use some work.”

“Oh, screw you, buddy, I did all the work,” Robin’s eyes dance with humour even as she pokes him with a sharp finger at his ribs. Steve squirms away, “I gave you the nail bat!” He mock protests before the image of Eddie’s wide and terrified eyes crosses his mind again. He sighs, “Do you think I should avoid him for a while? Let him get used to the idea before springing myself on him again?”

Robin leans back with a too wide smile, its awkwardness immediately transparent. “What?” Steve asks suspiciously.

Her brow furrows in an apology that gives lie to the smile, “We’re meeting back here tomorrow. El thinks that she might be able to lead him through a change if he’s got it in him, and we all thought it better to get the potential of it all out of the way before Eddie devolves into one big puddle of fear.”

Rubbing the bridge of his forehead, Steve sighs, “So, not only is he freaked out by the sight of me but I’m going to see him in the next twenty-four hours.”

Robin looks at her bulky men’s watch with a grimace, “More like twelve. We figured that we should get it over sooner or later, and this way he can work out whether he wants to freak out over being a bat or a vampire.”

“Or neither,” Steve points out.

She shrugs, “It seems unlikely, right? Correlation doesn’t equal causation, and you may be the outlier, the one cool weirdo out there.”

“Thank you,” he says dryly even though he does appreciate her positive spin on his furry little situation.

It had been months after the events over Halloween, when he’d been bitten by a demo-dog, that he’d started to notice the first few small changes. At first, he’d been convinced that it was the world that had transformed: smells becoming deeper, sights becoming sharper, but after one night where he had been panicked to find that his feet were no longer so far away, and suspiciously clawed, that he’d come to the realisation that it was his senses that had evolved, not the sun or the trees or the perfume of his history teacher.

The kids, while excited, had been very little help, but their encouragement had made him feel less alone. He took Dustin’s attempt to turn him into a science experiment in stride and as an extension of the little butthead’s support. But it was when Robin had been brought into the Upside Down fold that he’d felt truly embraced.

Surprisingly, rather than turning to books and research, she’d listened to him instead. Asked Steve what he wanted to be called when he was turned and let him talk about the oddities and freedoms he’d found in this new version of himself.

Steve had already known that the wolf would be a part of him forever, but Robin’s role in his life had cemented that feeling into a bone-deep acceptance, an understanding that he wasn’t weird or wrong for his new transformation, but that it was simply another part of Steve. Or Furry Steve as Robin would gently tease him.

“Are you staying over?” He asks now, watching her smother a yawn and nod in agreement.

He stands, waiting until she walks through the door before flipping the light switch off, the flurry of moths above flutter in confusion at the sudden darkness. “We can practise some more on the way home tomorrow if you like.”

Robin had gained her license a month ago, but with no car to drive Steve was building her confidence by having her drive his. She often teased that their love was a true one since she’s the only one allowed to touch the bimmer.

Wrapping an arm around his waist, they walk through the kitchen and head to his bedroom in unspoken agreement. “That’d be great. Do you want to wolf-out or be on your side of the bed,” she counters sleepily, leaving her book on the counter as they pass.

He hums, thinking. Months ago, after they’d worked out that the Upside Down nightmares were better handled when they knew the other one was in the room, Robin had struggled with having Steve in her bed.

It’s not that he wasn’t welcome, she’d reassured him, or wanted, she’d said with a haunted expression, clearly thinking of having woken up silently screaming not moments before. But having his skin touch hers made her irritable in a way that she had no explanation for. Fur, however, was fine.

Since then, if Steve needed cuddles he was allowed to wolf-out, as they decided to call it. Once transformed, Robin had no problem with Steve’s fur covering her skin; rather, she quite liked the partial weight of his body.

He thinks that tonight he’d like the reassurance that there is one person who is not only unafraid of him but likes the differences that make him not-quite-human.

“Wolf-out,” he responds, letting go and allowing the wolf to unfold. The sweet musk of the kids sharpens, even with them having departed hours ago, as does the appealingly darker scent of Eddie, although it is bitterer than it normally is as if his fear had saturated the small space.

His tail drops sadly at the reminder, but Robin distracts him with scritches behind the ear before leading their way up the stairs to his bedroom. Steve pads behind, happy to have a friend in Robin and determinedly putting Eddie out of his mind for the rest of the night.

If you enjoyed any of this drop me a comment over at Ao3, it'd make my day! (fic now titled Swift Wings and a Brave Heart)

#platonic stobin #steddie #steve harrington #robin buckley #stranger things #paperbackribs writing

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bellsluvschrissturn · 2 months

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Barber

Warning: barber reader x boob obsessed Matt

Titty sucking titty fuck use of baby mommy

Authors note: this sucked ass lord have mercy on me

My client canceled and the male barber next to me has triplet clients that will be coming in soon he asked if I could take one his name is Matt so I’m not sitting waiting for them to show up in my cute outfit I put together today for the first time in 4 months the outfit the shirt really complimented my chest I loved the shirt

Then as I’m waiting sitting on my chair drinking my Starbucks I see 3 people who look exactly alike just very different styles I sit and mind my business as the barber next to be goes and talks to his clients “ hey boys I’m kinda running a little behind so my friend y/n will be taking care of one Matt I figured since you don’t care what happens to your hair you can go with her” “o-ok” Matt says as he looks at your tits then at your face again a little nervous “ hi I’m y/n” you say as you stand up out of the seat “you can go ahead and sit down I’m a little different then Xavier I wash hair and style it after I cut it” you explain “oh ok do whatever you need to” he says “ so how do you want me to cut it you said as you put the cape cover on him “uhm it doesn’t matter I just want an inch off and maybe a little fade in the back but not to much” oh ok do like a trim and a clean up?” You ask “ya” he replies ok I’m gonna start now you warn him ok he says looks at your face to your tits to your face you notice and smirk you get closer to his face as you lower his seat because he’s a little to tall in the seat now he is perfect height for you and for him he gets a great view of them bittys

You get closer to his face as you start cutting his hair and as you turn him in the chair your boobs rub on him and you act like you didn’t notice you were doing it he looked down after a while as he adjusted in his seat “are you ok do you need a break” I ask “ nah I’m just hot” “ oh did you want me to turn on the fan?” “ yes please” you turned the little fan you have at your little area as you continued to cut his hair you them said “ ok we are going to wash your hair now” “ok” he said as he got up you then sit him in your hair washing area you put a towel around his neck to not get him wet as you adjust his seat so it’s comfortable for him your tit rubs against his face and he gasps “oh I’m so sorry” you say “no it’s ok” he says lightly you smirk and continue to adjust his seat when you finally fix his seat you start to turn the water on “is this temperature alright?”

“Ya it’s perfect” he says ok you say as you wash his hair you accidentally splash is face and neck “oh I’m sorry” you says as you wipe the little sprinkles of water off his cheek and neck “it’s ok” he says you start to scrub his hair with shampoo your boobs jiggle in his face he feels the movement and opens his eyes to see your boobs jiggling he groans as he feels your nails graze his scalp over and over again “that feel good Matt” “ya he says faintly” you wash the shampoo off as you put the conditioner and wash it out dry his hair with the blow dryer and as you do that he just feels a boost of confidence and grabs your waist and holds it you continue to dry his hair with a smile you they start to brush his hair and style it with texture powder and you see a movement in the cape by his crotch you lift up the cape a little and see him palming himself you whisper to him “ if you needed help you could have asked baby” “ please touch me” “ really here in front of all these people” “n-n-no the bathroom please” “ I can’t baby how about I meet you somewhere after work my next client is here” “ can you take me to the back to show me the products you used on me and I can just take a picture of your tits and get off to it please please” he begs “ok baby just because you asked so nicely” “ Xavier ima go show him the products I used on his hair I’ll be right back you make your way to the back and as soon as you get to the back he pushes you into the bathroom and kisses you please baby please I can’t take it he ripps off the cape and throws it on the floor as he takes his pants down and shows his hard on “please let me suck on them tittys please” he says “ok baby” he sets you on the sink as he starts kissing down your neck he pulls your shirt off your tits as he kisses down to your tits he sucks on your right nipple as he pinches and flicks the left one he hums around your tits you moan at the vibration “ omg Matt that feels so good” you moan “ mhmmm” Matt says you push him off and get on your knees as you pull his boxers down and see his pink tip with a tan sandy colored base “oh look at this cock Matt” he moans at the praise “ wanna jerk them in between my tits Matt ya, ya” Matt nods frantically “yes baby please please” you spit on his dick and on your tits as you put his dick in between your tits and move you boobs up and down his shaft your hands are squeezing your boobs together to fit around his and as your hands are like that you run your thumb on his tip “ oh omg” he moans loudly as small whimpers come out after “ I-I’m gonna cum mommy I’m g-go-gonna c-cum please let me come” “ c baby let it all out baby” oh fuck fuck fuck I’m cumminggggggggg!!!” He says as warm white strings go all over your Chin and chest “ oh fuck baby look at the mess you made” you tease “sorry y/n” “it’s ok baby let’s get cleaned up” “ok” Matt walks out of the bathroom first and his brothers say “ bro we’re have you been we’ve been waiting- Chris” “ he was to busy getting laid in the bathroom of a barber shop- Nick” “ Xavier is mad too he might fire y/n-chris” “ya just because you couldn’t keep it in your pants - Nick” “ well if she gets fired I’ll buy her all her equipment and she can do our hair at home” mat replies

Y/n walks out next and she sees Xavier pissed he gives you that face that says ‘get your ass over here right now’ you walk to him and he say “ really y/n a client how down bad and desperate can you be ” “ are you slut shaming me” “ no but really a client” “ I like him like actually he’s funny hot nice and has a huge-“ “ enough I don’t want to hear anymore” “ I was going to say heart you nasty bitch” you both laugh “ alright well if you actually like him I guess you can date him but no more sex in the bathrooms” “ we didn’t even fuck Xavier” “ whatever”

You go to the register to check the triplets out “ ok do you guys want to book an appointment for next time or” “ yes please” Nick says “ can we get one in 3 months” “sure” “ my brother Matt the one you did today he wants to see you instead” “ ok” “ and here’s his number he was to much of a pussy to do it himself”

“ thanks” you say in a chuckle

THE END

@miss-tyummy @itsfloriii @sammy-xx @h3arts4harry

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic

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vinylcapehaircuts · 2 years

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youtube

#vinylcapehaircut #blackvinylcape #vinylcapehaircuts #metallic shampoo cape #shampoocape #Youtube

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xhanelia · 11 months

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Sova Headcannons pt.2

Im doing a second one bc the first one got many likes and i am a Sova simp for no good. And i am writing so slow because i want these to be not basic things like how he treats you so kind and all. We all know that obv.

This man is inmune to weather. Is it cold or hot or raining or a goddamn hurricane is going on outside, he does not give a damn.

He uses 13 in 1 shampoo and still manages to pull off a shampoo advertisement model kind of hair. Also his hair never gets oily.

Several times you minding your business and when you turn back, there is a tall and muscular man standing right hehind you. He does not means to scare anybody but he is very capable about sneaking behind someone or something that he does it on instinct at this point.

He will let you inspect his bow but wont accept for you to use any shock darts. Not in a chance. Its better for you and him. He will teach you how to use bow if you insist on it but you need to get your own bow. Dont worry Chyper will know about this conversation. Just you wait for an occasion like your birthday or christmas.

He will let you braid his hair and even put flowers in it. But he will refuse to undo it if it gets messy. You need to undo his hair to either braid it again or leave it like he does if you dont want to see a fuzzy haired Sova for the rest of the day.

He loves when you and him braid match with one string of hair. He always touchs it when he is away from you and thinks it looks pretty on you.

His cape is so soft and warm. If you get cold, just steal it from him. He wont say anything about it rather will volunteer to give it to you. Another thing that the fur on its hood is real. He added it himself from one of his hunts. So its so soft.

He has an unwritten nickname. Owl boy. Agents like Viper, Skye, Brimstone and such tend to call him owl boy. He will get emberrased if you start to call him like that too.

In the morning, out of nowhere he went "hey bbg" ONE TIME to make you laugh at his morning voice but after your reaction he is scared to do that again.

He tried to sneak a baby owl into the HQ but Brim eventually found it out and made him relase it. But before he did, you guys had so much fun. The owls run with its legs was a hillarious thing to watch. It was the silliest thing you saw. One time it tried to eat your finger but it was so cute that you couldnt even be mad at it. You named it Sasha since Sova means owl in russian. Name switch. You get the idea.

#sova headcannons #sova #sova valorant #valorant x reader #valorant sova #valorant #sova x reader #headcanon

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k-marzolf · 6 months

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+Ephemeral

Ambiguous relationship, angst, abandonment issues, jealousy, mentions of drugs, a little fluff, fem!reader.

@e-dubbc11 @terry2227 @snowkestrel @oops89 @thejanecampaign @aoi-targaryen @vaguekayla @danzer8705 @firequeensposts @firexfate

“I’ll be a good boy,” Billy cried, throat aching, breathless and desperate, clinging to his mother’s dress at the fire station.

She ripped the dress from her son’s fingers, eyes dilated from her high, looking contemptuous, getting into her beat up car and driving away.

“Your ma ain’t coming back, son.” The fire chief said gruffly, placing a heavy hand on Billy’s shoulder, he sounded awkwardly sympathetic.

Early on Billy learned, relationships and love were ephemeral. And that the only person who would love him and look after him, was himself.

He stopped crying after that, he would never be abandoned again.

He swore it.

“Billy!” You came rushing down the aisle in the store, holding a Superman action figure. It had a red cape, and a handsome face.

“Hmmm?” He hummed, hands in his pockets, eyes looking at the action figure with a frown. Did you love Superman? His stomach clenched and soured at the thought, wanting to rip the figure out of your hands.

And even as he thought it, he knew it was ridiculous.

“Can I buy this for you?” You asked, the scent of your shampoo wafting towards him. Apples, fresh from the orchard.

His eyebrow raised, mouth relaxing; “Why, mouse?” His voice was tender, always tender with you. His fingers brushed your bottom lip, making heat rise to your cheeks.

Your fingers curled into the green sweater. “Because it would match my Wonder Woman. We’d be best friends.” You said eagerly, excitedly. Your eyes bright, and your skirt swishing with your movements around your knees.

“Is that what we are, mouse? Best friends?” He husked, pulling you closer by your hips, jealousy relaxing.

“Soulmates.” You agreed, sweetly.

His lips curved up, heart fluttering pleasantly, “Sure, mouse. You can buy it for me.” He said, lips brushing the corner of your mouth, tasting your strawberry lip gloss.

Maybe no one cared about him, but you did, and that was enough.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader

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bubuslutty · 1 year

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title: I'm friends with the moon (serie)

pairing: platonic moon boys x fem!reader

summary: steven has a new neighbour next door. She's an university student and is looking to make some friends, so that leads her to talk to steven more and more, first it was because she didn't know much about the apartment building and needed some help once in a while, but then a friendship blooms, and along the way, she finds out they're moon knight.

warnings: they will be provided in individual parts if necessary.

a/n: this au is a mess of social media, texting and proper writing. I just want to be friends with the moon boys. that's all.

parts (any of them can be read as stand alone, they're only in published order, not following a strict timeline):

twitter | WhatsApp | fic

part 1: the characters' twitter profiles

part 2: why are you dressed like that?

part 3: marc is in his khonshu anti era

part 4: lizzie, I know your secret

part 5: good job, Marc!

part 6: khonshoe? khonshou?

part 7: Chicago Cubs

part 8: carpool karaoke

part 9: #SaveJakesMoustache2023

part 10: The adventures of an ex-mercenary, avatar, cab driver and ex-gift shopist & his university student friend and neighbour

part 11: my hobbies include annoying a depressed man in his 40s on WhatsApp.

part 12: splash

part 13: 40-something Moon Man ROCKS the Dancefloor (REAL ! NOT CLICKBAIT!)

part 14: 3 in 1 Shampoo

part 15: before you get excited and put on the cape

part 16: feeding the needy

part 17: if you litter, you're a bitch!

part 18: baby cows

part 19: Baby, bye bye bye!

part 20: coming soon

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nekohime19 · 8 days

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Heart behind the lie # 15 : recovery party

First therapy session let's go!

Sun Wukong was pacing inside of his bedroom, looking at the outfits laid on his bed with narrowed eyes. His fur was perfectly cleaned, perfumed by a light peach-scent (thanks to his shampoo), and carefully brushed by his troop. His fur had never been so shiny before, perfect strands similar to the purest rays of light. His marshals teased him relentlessly when they learned that Macaque would be present at the party, saying that he wanted to look good for the warrior. Which wasn't fully wrong, but Sun Wukong would never admit it.

"Should I go in my armor?" Mumbled the King as his eyes glided over his golden armor. "No, it's too formal. Maybe my usual wear?" He took his favorite piece of cloth, the one he wore on a daily basis, but the red glistening cape and the long phenix feathers seemed too heroish. He didn't want to be seen as the Monkey King, he didn't want to frighten his moon." I'm not gonna go in my tiger pelt." Sighed the King as he removed the outfit from his journey, his eyes lingered in the bright yellow beret he used to wear in his brotherhood days and he removed it from the bed with a tight throat. "The hoodie is too casual… I don't want him to think I'm not taking it seriously." Groaned the sage as he removed the hoodie, he turned towards the leaves kilt innocently laid in the far left of the bed and immediately scowled. "No, definitely no, why did I keep that?"

Desperate and without any proper outfits, he summoned a clone, hoping to get advices from the one person he could trust with his looks, himself. Sun Wukong gestured to his bed with a hopeless face, still in his bathroom towel. The clone snickered, perhaps finding his problem funny, and eyed the outfits with a thoughtful face.

"Definitely not the armor." Chimed the clone as he removed the golden piece of metal and the whitish underwear. "Why not your usual wear?"

"I don't want to be too heroish."

"You're a hero though?" Questioned the clone with furrowed eyebrows.

"You know what I mean." Sighed the sage as he awkwardly scratched his cheeks.

"I don't think he would care that much."

"But I do."

"Hm." The clone turned towards his wardrobe and dived in the further back, he took out some old hanfus he never got to wear. "Why not one of those?"

"I don't know if they fit me, I never wore them."

"Well, if you never wore them then it's not tied to bothersome memories." Argued the clone with a raised eyebrow.

"… Which one is better?"

"I like the violet one."

"Yeah, and write “desperate for Macaque” on my forehead while you're at it." Groaned the sage with flushed cheeks.

"Don't be a grump, it’s just a color." The sage glared at the clone and the rude little thing rolled his eyes. "Okay, what about this one?" He raised a reddish hanfu with a pearl-white slash and trims, paired with light golden pants.

"Don't you think it's too… garish?"

"Well, you can't know if you don't try it. We're the handsome Monkey King, boss, don't get so insecure it doesn't suit us."

The King glared at his clone and took the hanfu with a scowl, he dressed himself quite fastly and stood before the body length mirror laid in one corner of the bedroom.

"You see, it's not bad." Happily chirped the clone.

"Yeah…it's really… red."

"Red is not a bad color, it suits our golden fur."

"Don't you think it's too pretentious? I mean red is usually for royalty or something, I don't want him to think I'm arrogant or-"

"Do you prefer red or violet?" Cut the clone with narrowed eyes.

"Red… "

"That's what I thought. It's good, you look good."

"Yeah, okay. You think I should wear make-up?" Asked the sage as he twirled on himself.

"You want to?"

"Maybe something light, I don't know, it's true I don't wear make-up that often, maybe he would think that's weird." Muttered the King as he gazed at his reflection.

"Hey, don't think like that boss." Sighed the clone as he rummaged through his drawers and took out an ancient make-up box. "We look good with make-up."

"… Something light, okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Chuckled the clone as he waved him over. Sun Wukong sat on the edge of the bed and let his clone work with his face. He was quite satisfied with the result, his eyes were slightly highlighted with black eyeliner and a touch of red was smeared on his lips, nothing too garish, just as he liked it. "Now go get him, tiger!" Cheered the clone, Wukong dispelled him with a flustered flick of hands, why were his clones such menaces?

Sun Wukong took the bag beside his bed table and left the shack with an eager wag of tail. He jumped on his cloud and soared in the sky, flying towards the docks of Megapolis. The sage did propose to host the party on his mountain, but according to the kid it wasn't a place others could easily reach, as such they decided to party in Sha Wujing's reincarnation house, Sandy, he believed. Sun Wukong never went there, and he would be lying if leaving his mountain didn't stress him a little, but he was ready to stomach everything if it meant seeing Macaque again.

The King could easily spot Sha Wujing's soul with his golden vision, he landed in front of a half immersed sumarin and took a deep breath. He checked inside of his bag, and was relieved to see the warrior's scarf neatly nested there. This piece of cloth helped him greatly these last few days and the sage wanted to thank Macaque for this, as well as returning his scarf, he knew how much this cloth meant to the other.

Maybe he selfishly avoided washing it, wanting to leave his scent on it, but he knew Macaque wouldn't be too bothered by this, besides washing a century-old cloth was a bad idea. The sage knocked on the door, and shuffled on his feet a little, trying to brush some strays of fur while looking at his reflection on the sumarin windows.

Sandy opened the door, he looked a little bit disheveled, a cat was napping on his right shoulder, curled up in his neck nook. Sun Wukong couldn't fault him for his appearance, it was quite early after all.

"Oh, Mr King, you're here early."

"Yeah… should I come by later?" It was quite obvious that nobody was here yet, in his excitement Sun Wukong forgot to look at the time, he guessed not everybody woke up at dawn (something he was quite used to since his nightmarish nights).

"I can invite you in and you can wait for the others if you want." Gently replied the water demon, the sage considered the option and decided to come in, he knew he would only torture himself if he waited at home.

"If I'm not a bother…"

"I assure you you're not, everyone is welcome here."

"Thanks."

Sandy's house was nice and tidy, full of light, pots and cats. Sun Wukong sat on the couch in the middle of the living room, beside a pile of sleeping cats. One of the fluffy creatures looked up with a faint “mrrp?” and squinted at the King, it stretched, leaving the pile, and trotted towards him, sniffing his hand.

"Oh, hey bud." Awkwardly chuckled the King, the cat meowed at him, eyeing him curiously, before jumping on his lap. "Do as you please, I guess." The orange furred cat meowed happily and pawed at his hanfu. It was particularly adorable because its paws were entirely white, as if it was wearing socks, like a little gentleman.

"That's Sock, she's usually not fond of strangers." Informed Sandy.

"Well I'm honored, little one." Laughed the sage as he carefully petted Sock, she settled on his lap as if it was her personal throne.

"Do you want a cup of tea?"

"O-oh, yeah, why not?"

"Which one do you want? I have green, black, oolong, purple, matcha and earl gray."

"Hmm, purple?" Replied the King, he didn't know much about tea, he only chose a color he liked in general. Sandy nodded and disappeared in the kitchen, reappearing a few minutes later with a fuming cup.

Purple tea tasted good, it had a slight woodsy flavor he quite liked. Sandy settled beside him with his own cup. Sun Wukong wasn't keen on idle talks, but he guessed he, at least, had to be polite with his host.

"Sooo… you like tea?" A terrible way to begin the conversation really, but Sandy seemed to beam at that.

"Oh yes! Tea has so many effects and meaning, a nice cup always lifts my spirits."

"Well I never tried tea, not so much, I quite like this one."

"Ohh, if you never tried tea before you have much to learn."

"I guess." Chuckled the King.

"But I must say you're quite the early riser."

"Sorry to bother you, I guess I was just excited? It's been a while since I did this sort of thing."

"Oh no, you're not a bother at all. The others will be there in a few hours. MK was quite excited about you coming too."

"He was?"

"He did talk about it a lot, he was also quite excited for Mr Maquack." Sun Wukong straightened at the mention of the other monkey, his tail wagged a little harder.

"Yeah, I guess Macaque isn't the type to get out a lot, he never was."

"You two seem quite close."

"Not really, not anymore." Nervously chuckled the King, he hid behind the edge of his cup.

"You know, Mr King. If Mr Maquack and you ever want to talk about your issues, I'm always happy to help. Of course, I'm not a professional therapist, but I do know a thing or two."

"… Thanks big guy." Mumbled the sage, he distracted himself with Sock, carefully scratching behind her ears, the little fluff ball was really picky with her pets. "Anyway, you talked about tea?"

"Oh yes, there are many teas that exist!" The giant went on a long speech about teas and their effects, the King quietly listened while asking one or two questions here and there. It was surprisingly insightful, he didn't know tea could have such depth.

The kids arrived after a few hours, they came into the house with booming laughter, petting all the cats that dared to approach them. MK lit up like a thousand fireworks when he saw him, he walked over with a skip in his step and a beaming smile.

"Monkey King! You came early."

"Yeah, didn't want to miss it." Awkwardly chuckled the sage.

"Yooo, you look good Mr King!" Chimed the dragon girl as she finally freed the poor cat victim of her aggressive pets.

"Thanks, but, well, I'm the handsome Monkey King, I always look good." Replied the sage with a puffed out chest, MK laughed a little at that.

"Pigsy and Tang will come in a bit, I don't know about Macaque though." Informed the kid.

"Our emo boy will come last, he likes to be dramatic like that!" Snickered the dragon girl.

"That's true." Chuckled the sage as he drank the last drops of his tea.

Tang and Pigsy arrived after a few minutes, they all settled around a table, nipping at the food prepared by the pig. Sun Wukong wasn't on the best terms with the pig, the demon was still very upset with him (and for good reasons) but fortunately the chef was kind enough to not start any arguments, only side eyeing him from time to time. The sage noticed that his kid, and strangely enough the dragon girl, looked quite tired, their eyes were circled by darkness and they were more sluggish than usual. But when he tried to breach the subject with his mentee, MK immediately brushed aside his words, talking instead of how he was doing with Macaque.

Sun Wukong decided to stop asking questions for now, seeing as it made MK uncomfortable, but it wasn't over, he promised to get to the bottom of this.

Macaque arrived at midday, he walked in after being welcomed at the door by Sandy, silent as always, greeting everyone with a nervous wave, settling on the far side besides a pile of cats. His eyes lingered slightly on the King, something that made Sun Wukong's heart soar, before turning towards the kid. It was short, a second at most, but Macaque didn't scowl nor did he growl at him, his face was almost soft, something Sun Wukong would consider a victory today.

The King hesitated after that, playing with the strings of his bag, debating over and over again if he should head to the warrior. He made his mind up when he caught sight MK's encouraging thumbs up, even if they didn't get to talk much, he should at least give back his scarf. Sun Wukong moved Sock from his lap (she was quite hissy about that) and skipped over the ebony monkey. Macaque looked up at him before he could sit, he seemed to hesitate a moment, before scouting a little, making room for the sage.

Sun Wukong gulped, throat tight and hands veiled by sweat. He sat and petted the nearby cats, trying to soothe his beating heart.

"H-hey, here.".Stammered the King as he handed his bag to the warrior. Macaque carefully took it and peered inside with curiosity.

"Oh, thanks." Mumbled the macaque.

"Yeah, i-it helped me, thanks."

"You… you wanna keep it a bit longer?" Tentatively asked the warrior.

"I can?"

"Yeah, it doesn't bother me."

"Thanks." Muttered the sage as he took his bag back, the scarf still nestled inside. His tail thumped slightly on the floor, some cats pawed at it with wonder.

They stood in silence for a bit, neither knowing what to talk about, or even where to begin. Sun Wukong decided to busy himself with cats, trying to ease his nerves with fluffy paws and cute whiskers. They tried to talk, but each time one of them dared to open his mouth, words would stumble in an incomprehensible way, and they would stop trying in embarrassment.

"Sandy proposed to help us talk, said something about therapy, I don't know.".Mumbled the sage after a little while.

"M-might help us, if you want to?" Asked the warrior with a nervous twitch of tail.

"Y-yeah, why not, I mean yes, not why not, because I definitely take this seriously and it's… yes. When do you want to do this?" Stammered the King with red coated cheeks.

"I don't know, tomorrow, or the day after, let's just enjoy the party for now."

"Tomorrow morning sounds good." Admitted the sage, he turned towards the cats and awed at their cuteness. He felt the warrior's tail brush against his own, a touch so light it might have been an illusion, but something there, so undoubtedly there, it made his heart beat faster. Therapy might do more bad than good, but he was willing to try, he was very willing to try if it could heal the shattered bond he shared with the ebony monkey.

The silence following was a little more comfortable, filled with purrs and the distant chatters of his mentee's friends. It was nice to see joy flourish on their faces, to hear their laugh, their useless talk. It was nice to simply be here, to enjoy something as mundane as this, to exist in a place without struggling. It felt good to be beside the warrior and to not fear his claws. His presence, his scent, his warmth was something so instinctively comforting, Sun Wukong caught himself staring more than once.

The party was nice, they ate a little and talked about everything that crossed their minds, cheering for the Bone Demon's end and the King's full recovery. Macaque left in the evening, perhaps tired by all the noise, the King himself was beginning to feel quite tired, not used to that much social interaction anymore. He hugged the kid, and waved over to the others before jumping on his cloud, his bag tightly clutched in his hands.

He entered his shack with a soft smile, happy at the way he managed to work with the warrior. Yes, it would be undoubtedly hard, and one talk wouldn't be enough to breach everything that happened between them. But it was a start, a wish to sort things out from the both of them, and the mere fact that Macaque was willing to try was enough to made him unbelievably happy. The sage cleaned himself and put on more comfortable clothes. He curled up in his nest, the red scraf tightly warped around his neck. He nuzzled the fabric, greedily inhaling his moon's scent, tail widly thumping on his sheets.

He stopped the moment he saw three very smug shadows perched on his windowsill. Sun Wukong jumped on his feet, face flaming, and quickly hid the scraf under his pillows.

"W-what are you three doing here?" He stuttered as he walked over his window, towards his three very amused marshals.

Ma was looking at him the same way a tired parent looked at their dumb child, Beng was trying to hide his chuckles in his palms while Liu was openly cackling, tears nipping at her eyes. Sun Wukong sighed, he leaned over them when he caught a whiff of a familiar scent.

"You smell like him…"

“Six-ears fine”, chimed Ma, “looked happy” added Beng with a soft smile. Sun Wukong felt warmth spread through his chest at the idea, his marshals must have felt his joy, they excitedly chirped in between them, af if celebrating a victory. Ma waved him over and patted him affectionately, “good job!”, she chirped happily. Liu, after calming her hollering laughter, tenderly nuzzled him. They left him alone after a few more pets, returning to the lushuring trees.

Sun Wukong closed his windows, this time making sure the curtains were drawn, and threw himself on his bed. He took the scarf hidden under his pillow and shamelessly dived in it, holding it tightly as if it was a precious treasure, it might as well be for him. He slept well, intertwined with the red cloth, losing himself in the softness. The Bone Demon whisper was still very present, brushing against the shell of his ears, ghostly claws grazing at his heart each time he dared to breathe, but it was bearable, more so than when he was without the scarf.

He rose early, slipping out of his sheets at the crack of dawn, too excited (and admittedly too scared) to lie-in. They never specified an hour, and heading there too early would only bother Sandy (they did forget to tell him about this sudden talk, now that he thought about it, he hoped the tea-lover would be kind enough to welcome them). Some part of him wanted to find Macaque, and maybe offer him to head over Sandy together, but he knew this was pushing it, and probably uncalled for in their situation. He had to be patient, to not cross any boundaries, for he knew their relationship wasn't strong enough to survive too much pushing.

Therapy sounded frightening, if he was honest, Sun Wukong wasn’t sure if he could confide in front of a stranger, no matter how sweet Sandy seemed. But if it could give him a chance to see Macaque, to hear him and be heard in return, he was willing to put his unease aside. It was worth it, if it could bring them closer.

The sage took a long bath, playing with peach-scented bubbles, pawing at them like an over-excited cub (something he did when nobody watched him). Some very embarrassing memories came to him, about him playing with water while the macaque was washing himself, but he decided to not process them. It wasn't the first time Sun Wukong saw quick flashes of his life as a feral monkey, they were always blurry and confusing, but he couldn't stop them from coming. So he observed them with an estranged eye, putting a distance between the feral monkey and himself.

Sun Wukong dried himself after nearly falling over the bathtub in a desperate attempt to chase after a wandering bubble, something he would take to his grave. He put on his hoodie and comfortable underwear, and munched on peaches while he waited for the sun to rise a bit more. He left his shack around the late morning, soaring through the sky towards the tea-lover's sumarin. His heart was becoming more and more frantic the more he approached the docks, almost leaping out of his chest when he recognized the warrior scent floating around the house.

He landed in front of the door with a struggling breath, he lightly knocked while playing with the hem of his hoodie, trying to ease himself. Sandy opened the door with a soft smile, inviting him joyously. Sun Wukong walked in with a nervous skip, freezing slightly when he caught sight of the warrior sitting comfortably in the middle of the sofa, cats covering most of him.

"Do you want a cup of tea, Mister King ?" Gently asked Sandy, bringing him out of his stupor.

"Yeah, hm, purple, if you have."

"Of course."

The sage slowly approached the warrior, nervously sitting beside him. Sun Wukong was immediately swarmed by meowing cats, some playing with the tip of his tail, others pawing at his ears, climbing his arms. Sock took a seat on his lap with ease, looking up to him with pride, her tail flickering in contentment.

"So you've been swarmed too?" Muttered the macaque with a playful tone, Sun Wukong chuckled faintly at that, petting the cats swarming him, enjoying being covered by so many adorable fluff balls

"Yeah, I don't mind though." Softly replied the King.

"Me neither." Macaque removed the cats playing on his head and leaned over the table, sipping on his cup.

Sandy put his own cup of purple tea on the table, in front of him, and took a seat in front of the two monkeys. The sage shuffled uncomfortably, feeling the gazes of the other piercing his skin, but he repressed his fear, standing strong. Macaque seemed as nervous as him, even if he was better at hiding it, the nervous twitch of his tail was undoubtable. Sandy offered them a light smile, he petted a bluish cat, one with the same hairstyle as him, and put his own cup down.

"So I was quite surprised to see Mr Maquack this morning. I'm glad you're both trying this though." Gently began the blue giant.

"What is… “this” exactly?" Questioned the warrior, which was something Sun Wukong was also quite curious about, he wasn't very well-versed in therapy.

"Well, it could be anything you want truly, I don't have any specific guideline. It could be a time for the both of you to talk and try to express yourself on different matters, to hear the other, or simply a time to bond. It depends on what you both want, and if you want to continue after today." Sandy waited for the both of them to gather their thoughts, not minding the awkward silence veiling the room. Sun Wukong thought long and hard, trying to put words on his feelings, something he always found hard.

" I… It would be nice if those could, I don't know, make us talk? D-does it make sense?"

"The desire to talk and express yourself while also hearing the other is completely natural, Mr King." It felt good to be validated, his tail wagged joyously.

"I think I feel the same." Sighed the macaque. "I would like if those could help me talk about what happened and, well… if it could help us be… better." Sun Wukong's heart skipped a beat at that, he turned towards the warrior with wide eyes.

"Yeah! Me too." Mumbled the King with an awed face. "I would like that too."

"That is nice, wanting to be better is always the first step for healing and improvement." Nodded the tea-lover. "Do you both want to talk about a particular subject today? Do you want my aid with that? Or do something else?"

"I… I would like to talk about the…most recents issue… me taking care of him and all that, but I don't know how to even begin." Mumbled the warrior as he leaned further in the couch, almost hiding himself behind the cats and the pillows.

"I… yeah…I think we need to talk about that." As much as Sun Wukong wanted to avoid certain thoughts, he knew they needed to be addressed, he knew he needed to hear the warrior's true feelings.

"We can begin with something light, if you both feel nervous about it. I have some exercises to help you express yourself if words don't come to you."

"That would be nice." Replied Macaque with a soft voice.

"Well, you can try to begin your sentences with “I feel” or “I felt” in this case to describe this experience. Me and Mr Wukong will not interrupt you, and simply listen until you're sure you're done." Sun Wukong nodded to show his approval.

"Okay…" Macaque took a deep breath and petted the cat nestled on his lap. "Well, I felt nervous, I think, to be near you." Macaque stopped a little, eyebrows furrowed, as if he was thinking of a better way to phrase this. "Maybe I felt confused, I mean you were so… monkeyish and all, I never saw you like that. I felt angry to… see you being hurt, and weak." The warrior closed his mouth, hands lost in the fur of a purring cat, there was a storm raging in his eyes. Sun Wukong wanted to reach him, to hold him, to hide him from everything, but he could do nothing. Frozen still, bewitched by what he heard." It felt bad, and overwhelming, because there was so much going on at the same time. I felt overwhelmed because I had to deal with you, the mountain, my own situation, it was tiring." It hurted to hear that, but Sun Wukong didn't dare to even utter a chirp, Macaque seemed almost lost in his own world, curled up inward, focusing on himself." But I felt good too. It was nice to be back on the mountain, to see the troop. It felt nice, in a way, to live peacefully. It felt nice to stop scheming and hating you, it felt kinda nice to spoil you too. But I felt scared of that… because it was good, it scared me, I thought you… you would kick me out once healed. I felt upset, when I learned of your lies, I felt used and… foolish, and scared, because I didn't want you to know… to see this side of me, and I didn't want to leave, I was so sure you would kick me out I just... I'm not… that upset now. I just feel confused, because I don't know what to trust… You don't act like you did before, it's confusing. And I want to feel better." Sun Wukong was trying his best to not let his tears run down his cheeks, an impossible feat, really.

"This was very insightful Mr Maquack, I thank you for your sharing. Do you also want to express yourself on this particular event, Mr King?"

"Do I have to use the “I felt” thing?"

"If you want to."

"Well, hm, it… I… felt… scared. The…my state was weird, and unclear, and… weird, so I felt scared." He didn't want to dwell on that, her ghostly touch wasn't something he was ready to share yet. "I felt confused, when I sensed you, like really confused, so I waited for the trap, but it never came." It was hard to search for the good words, he felt like he was unclear and unhelpful, like he couldn't truly express what his heart was suffering through, it was frustrating. But Sandy and Macaque only listened quietly, waiting for his words, so he pushed through his frustration, setting it aside. "I felt good, when you cared, it felt very good, very nice. I… needed that. I felt… curious? About you, about this side of you. And I felt bad, for lying, but I couldn't…it felt so good, to be cared for by you, I couldn't stop. I...felt bad about leaving the kid, but I… I wanted to stop being scared. You made my fear go away, you made me feel so much better, and I'm sorry I hurted you. I want to feel better, I want to be better, I want to hear you." He stopped talking after that, words stuck in his throat, eyes glistening with unshed tears, he saw the warrior hiding his own tears under a blanket, draping it around his face, retreating in the darkness.

" I thank you for sharing this with us, Mr King. Do you both want to keep going?"

"I… I'm sorry… I don't think I can talk more." Awkwardly chuckled the sage.

"Me neither." Shyly replied the macaque.

"And that is fine. Let me get some snacks for the both of you, and then we can talk about if you would like another session. I can even share simple exercises you can do at home to help with processing your feelings."

Sandy left his chair and walked in the kitchen, Sun Wukong wiped away his tears, ashamed of them, and scouted a little further on the couch, broadening the space between him and the warrior.

"You want to do another session? "Quietly asked the sage. "It was nice to be able to talk."

"…. Wukong, we're literally in tears right now, you think we should do another?" Replied Macaque.

"Yeah, and we will probably end up crying next time too, but it was nice, wasn't it?"

"It's not gonna be nice when we will broach our deeper problems."

"Maybe, but it will help, no? I do wanna get better, with you, if you want."

"… I mean it sounds nice but… can we even get better?"

"We lose nothing by trying."

Macaque didn't reply, but his tail brushed against his own, a familiar weight that spoke of tentative acceptance. Sun Wukong hesitated a moment, before very loosely intertwining the tip of both of their tails, Macaque let him do it, and he couldn't be more overjoyed.

This was a start of an arduous road, something painful, but also healing. Something he wanted desperately.

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#shadowpeach #lmk #lego monkie kid #shadowpeach fanfic #sun wukong #six eared macaque #lmk shadowpeach #lmk macaque #Heart behind the lie

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