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pinkrelish · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.✶

NSFW — slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine but eddie's just tired, reader and eddie are mid-late 20's

chapter: 1/20 [wc: 5.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 1: Surprise, Surprise

“Yes.” A simple answer which spawned as many awkward scenarios, as it did great ones. Your name was spray painted on the side of a bridge, you spent nights learning to tango on abandoned rooftops, the amount of tales you accrued of bad dates could fill a self-help book.

Whatever the question was, the answer was “yes.” Life was more exciting that way.

Well, your policy usually lended itself to exciting adventures, anyway.

Currently, you were sat behind a desk with your boss, Mr. Moore, who slouched on his black stool with his cheek propped on his fist, pointing a pencil at a customer’s pink invoice sheet in front of you, explaining who to call in the spiral-bound catalog for the parts to be shipped.

The tall counter top partially obscured the both of you from employees and customers alike, but as you soon realized, the number of employees was slightly above two, and the customers even less; and if any of them paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell from the disorienting mix of exhaust fumes, dirty oil, and grease wafting in from the glass door on the left.

Thus began the first day of your new job at David’s Auto Repair. Boring.

————

Your second and third days were hardly different. Arriving at the butt crack of dawn and beginning the routine that definitely wasn’t in the ad in the newspaper: clean the bathrooms (hey, at least they had two), start the coffee pot after scrubbing off years of neglect caked onto the inside, and organize the paperwork Mr. Moore left for you in his office.

Oh, and most importantly, after locking up your bike outside the front door, you made your way through the echoey workshop and poked your head out the back door to the parking lot–which, by all means, was a gravel alleyway with overgrown trees blocking your view beyond the sleek black car parked next to the dumpster.

“Morning!” you greeted the one employee who arrived early and stayed late. “Eddie, right?”

The man leaning against the gray brick wall didn’t bother acknowledging you. Didn’t lift his head from its dropped back position, nor open his eyes. Definitely didn’t take the cigarette out of his mouth to bestow you the gift of his chipper attitude, nor did he uncross his arms to offer you the bare minimum wave.

And much like the other days, you sat perched behind your desk and beamed up at him as he walked past you to the break room. And as usual, he slid his gaze to you. And like normal, he didn’t say anything.

But he did hold your eye contact for a fraction of a second longer, albeit, he looked a bit frightened when he did, as if he were suspicious of your smile.

You listened to the clunk of his heavy boots fade down the hallway, then return with him holding a mug of coffee.

This time, as he walked by, he remained vigilant, and your grin went ignored by his stupid big brown eyes surrounded by envious lashes.

Lucky you, the reception area was essentially a glass cage. Behind the black pleather seats for customers was the glowing blue sky, and beside you were floor to ceiling windows showcasing the artificially bright garage where the man in grease stained coveralls twisted gaudy rings off his fingers and placed them on a tray with his coffee, before picking up a dirty rag and popping open the hood of the car he worked on past closing last night.

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” you mumbled in a mocking tone, sneering at his red name patch–Eddie. “Jerk.”

————

Friday was different. You locked up your bike, chucked your backpack into your chair behind the desk, and made your way to the back of the garage for the routine, “Good morning.”

For some reason, you decided to reveal your whole self; more than your head stuck out the door, or rising above the countertop customers leaned on when trying to schmooze deals on parts–hell if you knew how to do that, anyway. You didn’t get paid enough to bargain.

You stepped onto the uneven gravel and surveyed the scenery, looking both ways down the alley to the major roads on either side leading to the heart of downtown Hawkins. Absolutely dismally silent. Void of life. Except for the small things you never noticed, like faraway birds, the hum of a distant motor, buzzing bugs before they disappeared for the cooler months. You felt the dew settling on your forearms, and swore you could smell impending rain on the cloudless day.

“Is it always this quiet?” you asked, face pinched in confusion as you took it all in. “I swear I can hear my own thoughts.”

Eddie may not have appreciated your joke, but he did surprise you.

He kept one of his arms crossed over his stomach, and took the cigarette from between his lips to flick the ashes. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked the dilapidated fence across from him.

Feeling cheeky, you schooled the thrill out of your voice from getting a response out of him, and said, “What gave it away?”

A drag on his cigarette was his wordless answer. Fair.

“I’m from New York.” The implied City followed without clarification. “Just moved here last week. My roommate’s from Hawkins, and she had to move back to help take care of her parents. They’re older and her dad has some health problems, and yeah, I couldn’t afford rent on my own, so you know, why not. Why not follow her to a town so small it’s impossible to find on a map.”

All your talking earned you a magnificent thing. Eddie finally opened his eyes, if only to pin you with a mild glare, and a skeptic pinch between his brows.

He said more to himself than you, “You must really like your roommate to come here.” The inflection at the end was both amusement and contempt, no doubt.

“We met in our first year of college and became best friends like that–!” You snapped. “Both theater kids going to school for acting, and we later made a comedy troupe with a few other people. When she asked if I wanted to move with her, I said ‘yes.’” Inclining your upper body towards him, you explained, “It’s sorta my thing. If anyone asks me anything, I say ‘yes.’ Obviously, I can veto shit that’s dangerous or crosses any boundaries, but it’s my policy to try everything. Life makes better stories that way.”

Your unique brand of wisdom furthered his obvious distaste for you.

Eddie inhaled his vice until the orange glow burned to the filter. Smoke fell from his mouth in a rush as if he were about to speak again, but he didn’t. He merely stared at you. And if he were having a staring contest, he won.

“Well, have a good day, then,” you said, spinning on the toe of your shoe.

You sat in your glass zoo for the day shuffling papers, making calls, and filling out forms. Most definitely not talking to the guy who appeared annoyed at your very existence.

Unfortunately for him, Hawkins was tiny and the pickings were slim.

Maybe it was his eyes, or the way the short layers of his choppy hair cut escaped his low bun to curl themselves in face-framing waves, or the fact he was twenty-years younger than the other two mechanics, but you took a liking to Eddie, much to his dismay. And due to your affinity for his annoyance, you noticed the subtle changes in his appearance sooner than you should.

————

Dark purple circles announced the lack of sleep under Eddie’s eyes before the bags could. Bloodshot and struggling to open past a sliver, he sucked down half his cigarette before the routine minutes of peace he carved into his strict schedule were interrupted by the newest knot in his muscles.

“Good morning!” you said.

“Morning,” he returned without thinking about it. Rookie mistake.

You stood closer this time, inching down the brick wall, approaching him as if he would startle like a wild animal to get a better look at the years wearing heavy on the fine lines etched into his face. Perhaps no longer ‘fine.’

“You good?”

He didn’t have the energy to put up his usual front. With his chin dipped to his chest, he kept his eyes closed, nearly drifting to sleep as he muttered, “Long night.”

“Ah.”

Your clumsy shuffling alerted him to your movement, and he reluctantly observed you standing a few feet in front of him, rocking on your heels. He filled his chest with an incredulous sigh before you even spoke.

“You seem like you could use some cheering up,” you beamed. “I could juggle for you! Should I do three or four?” Eddie’s jaw went slack, and the cigarette stuck to the wetness inside his chapped lips. You bent down to gather large rocks into your palms, opting for four when he didn’t answer.

You stood up and stepped back. Made a big show of tracing invisible arcs above your head with your gaze, readying your hands. Sucking in a breath. Building suspense while his expression slowly crept into one of tempered curiosity.

Tensing, you tossed all four rocks into the air, and made a genuine effort to catch them before they fell unceremoniously around you, bouncing off the gravel in your scramble.

Clasping your hands behind your back in feigned shyness, you announced, “I don’t know how to juggle.”

For a moment you thought he was going to continue to regard you as if you were a bug in his coffee.. Then his veneer cracked.

He snorted. The cute way, when someone’s trying to suppress it. A subtle shake in their shoulders, keeping their head down, and their smile hidden behind the heel of the palm.

Eddie hugged his arm tighter over his chest, and chastised himself, “Why’d I let that get me.”

And truly, when he flicked his gaze to you with the lopsided remnant of his grin, you were imprinted with the heat of his wonderment, and your body remembered that feeling. Sensing it later when you sat at your desk, tapping your pencil, rattling off a series of numbers and letters for engine parts, and you snuck a coy look over the phone at the exact moment Eddie turned around to ask Carl for a wrench instead of getting it himself from the tool box near the window.

And he felt your stare during lunch when you promised an irate customer their car would be ready by the end of business hours, and hung up the phone with the type of heavy-handedness one used when implying a ‘fuck you’ without stating it.

You pushed yourself from the desk and went to the fridge in front of the circular table in the break room, eyeing Eddie’s odd choice as you walked by. A bologna sandwich–fairly normal–but also a stained orange tupperware container with an array of dried out microwaved leftovers. A corner of spaghetti, pale instant mashed potatoes with three peas stuck on top, unidentifiable sludge that may have been beef stew at one point, and a handful of Kraft mac n cheese.

Pitiful amounts of food that most people would’ve thrown out.

Not that you should judge. Your lunch was the blandest rice-based meal your roommate’s mom made the night before. The woman had never heard of salt, much less other spices, but she was letting you live in their attic for free until you and Bobbie found a place to live.

Breaking your chain of thoughts, you smiled at Eddie on your way out.

He didn’t look up from his paperwork.

Wholly ignored.

————

Over the rest of the month, you learned there wasn’t a definitive pattern to which days of the week were hardest for Eddie, but it was clear when he was enduring the worst.

As the evenings grew cooler, you left the lobby door open, and in doing so, were wise to the bite in his words, the edge to his voice. The quick apologies to Carl when he let his frustration show. The fluidity of ‘fucks’ flying past his mouth, the way he wrung his nape while staring into the distance, and the lurking stress of bottled emotions causing his teeth to grind.

He approached you with concern spurned from the windows being painted black with night.

“You don’t have to stay behind, you know that, right?” Eddie got your attention in the doorway. You blinked at him, still seeing the words of the book you were reading swim past your vision. “I have a set of keys. I can lock up when I’m done.”

It was the most he’d said to you in two weeks. Three entire sentences composed of more words than he’d uttered if you added them all up since your juggling stunt.

“I don’t mind.”

A meager response which resulted in a standoff.

Eddie wasted no time bunching his shoulders at your defiance. He left streaky fingerprints on the door handle as he reached for his neck, and tucked his fingers under his collar to run his thumb along his chain necklace in a self-soothing gesture. A layer of grime coated his skin. His disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty, dirty neck. The front of his coveralls were blackened with grease, as was the white tank top he wore underneath, peeking above the unfastened top snap.

On the other hand, you overturned your palms and glanced around the barren room. “Is it really that much of a bother that I’m sitting in here being quiet?” you drawled.

“Yes.” Automatic irritation.

“It’s not like I have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t have a comedy routine to rehearse with your roommate?” he intoned in complete monotony.

“Ha-ha,” you replied, just as emotionless. You thought about correcting him in regards to you and Bobbie no longer doing stand up, but decided to grab your backpack and leave without putting up a fight. His concern about you staying late may not be genuine, but it was evident he wanted–or needed–you gone. You didn’t want to push his boundaries when he showed this level of discomfort, especially when the burden of fatigue wore beyond acceptable exhaustion, and he was ready to snap, no matter how hard he tried to quell it.

You surrendered, “Bye, Eddie.”

No reply.

In total darkness, you unchained your bike and hopped on, pedaling past the mailbox when you heard the thunderous slams of the service doors being lowered shut.

And you made it to the edge of the trees before coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty street, cracking your neck at the speed of which you whipped around to gawk.

Your heartbeat skipped, then timed itself with the extreme drum beat and opening wail of a guitar accompanied by high-pitched screamed lyrics.

The music may have been muffled, and the inside fluorescent lights struggled to penetrate the dense fog from the upper warehouse windows, but it was as if Eddie was subjecting the desolate parking lot to his own personal Judas Priest concert, hearing be damned.

You didn’t even know the dusty radio in the shop worked. But whatever helped him blow off steam, you supposed.

————

Today was a good day.

Eddie liked Fridays. Most people working weekdays did, but when he came inside early from his morning cigarette, and you hadn’t finished sweeping the shop, he made a point to idle around the orange car at the center, seeking your attention and offering an apology. Not a spoken apology, mind you. But it was rare he initiated eye contact, and when he did it with the purpose of showing deference in his softened features, you understood.

You forgave him with a gentle lift at the corner of your lips for an incident yesterday afternoon, wherein he grunted at you to leave him alone when you were telling him about one of the plays you and Bobbie acted in. Sometimes you required your own reminder of when you were being annoying, and gave him an apologetic smile for bothering him. He nodded. All was right with the world. All was forgiven and now he could get to work.

He wiped his hands down the sides of his coveralls, and leaned his upper half through the open car window to reach the latch for the hood.

The perfect opportunity to mess with him presented itself in all its glory. But first, you couldn’t resist taking a long.. long look at his backside, head tilted, mouth more than a little hung open.

“Huh?” He nearly banged his head on the roof, rounding on you with the sharpest glare in the Midwest.

Under the guise of perfect innocence, you kept brushing the broom over his work boots and toward the dust pan. “Sorry, sir, just doin’ my job. Gotta clean up the filth.”

“An actress and a comedian, huh?” he posed, allowing his smirk to foster as he gripped the edge of the door. “Gonna tell me you were a clown, next?”

“Actually..” You were interrupted by Carl coming in, followed by the near-retired Kevin who worked two days a week.

You greeted them loud and proud, overdoing it in the joy department at the ripe morning hour. Asking about Carl’s wife, and Kevin’s dog; really laying it on thick for the purpose of sending a message to the looming ghoul behind you: I’m annoying you on purpose now.

Still, as you entered the lobby, you caught sight of the sneaky grin on his face before he turned his back to you. A tight-lipped thing he was clearly trying to rid himself of while pulling his hair back into a low bun, and taking the time to tie up a bandana to keep everything out of his face, thus losing his security blanket from the world perceiving he wasn’t in a permanent bad mood.

And of course, Eddie kept up his act through lunch. Stomping through the lobby in that way people did when they were so very obviously trying to appear aloof, and coming across as anything but. Eyes staring straight ahead, but too wide and too aware to not be soliciting a reaction from their periphery. Chest out, muscles flexed. Posture the very opposite of casual, causing them to walk in a stilted manner like a robot.

And his charade continued when he came back from the break room, rounding the corner with softer steps. Slower. Hanging onto the precious milliseconds where your back was to him, and he could absorb your image freely without being noticed. Then, he lifted his chin and returned to his project, pretending you weren’t there.

Yep, so painfully obvious when he forgot reflections existed and you were surrounded by glass.

~~~

Fridays were the days he anticipated most. Work was grueling, and he had many things to finish before the break for the weekend, but he didn’t mind staying late. He preferred it.

Fridays meant he could rely on someone else handling the stressors at home, and he was free to earn his late hours at the garage, indulging in his loud music, and unwinding the constant state of tension lurking beneath the surface. It was the only way he knew how to cope. To stay sane.

Yeah, he loved Fridays. Until a surprise came running at him in her tiny pink shoes.

Eddie screwed his eyes shut and exhaled a long, hard breath through his nose.

“Sorry,” came Wayne’s earnest apology as his nephew wilted; shoulders sagging, head hung. Tapping the wrench he was holding on his thigh. Trying his best to keep it together. “Don’t mean to drop ‘er off on you, but work called me in, so I came here after picking her up.”

Turning away from the engine he was installing, Eddie assumed his authoritative voice, but it came out as a weary sigh. “Adrienne, you know the rules,” he warned lowly, “No running in the shop.” After a beat, he corrected himself. “I mean, no being in the shop at all!”

She giggled as she skipped away from him, sloppy pigtails bouncing with mirth, plastic glittery shoes slapping the concrete floor where a myriad of items she could trip on laid.

“Adrie!” He called out, but she was too busy opposing him to pay attention.

Lucky for her, a certain receptionist caught her by the shoulders before she crashed into a rogue tire.

“Whoa there, little Miss!”

You looked to Eddie for further instruction on what to do with the girl currently laughing up a storm at your feet, but he was frozen. A bit paler, and wringing the back of his neck. Unable to articulate any of the broken consonants on his tongue as he stared at you. You switched your gaze to the older man beside him, but he was equally confused as to why Eddie was having trouble speaking.

Addressing anyone who would like to volunteer an answer, you asked, “And who’s this?”

“This.. This i-is my daughter. She, I, Goddamnit–I’m sorry, can you take her inside? I swear she’ll be quiet. Right, Adrie?”

Seeing the pure desperation settle around his eyes, you assimilated into the role of babysitter, wanting to alleviate his anxiety despite the sudden surge of your own. You held your hand out for her to take, and she did so without a second thought, grasping onto you with her little fingers and standing up, being the one to lead you to your desk.

As the door closed behind you, you overheard the older man clear his throat under the strain of bad news. “The water heater is broken again, and I couldn’t– ..Before I had to leave.”

Their private conversation was sealed behind the glass. You didn’t care to eavesdrop. It was too heartbreaking watching Eddie frantically catch his fingers on his bandana before removing it so he could tangle his curls into his fist, tugging them over his face as he groaned in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the world.

But on the subject of his brunette waves..

His daughter had the same curl pattern. Almost the same cut, too. Clearly Eddie was the acting barber of the family. Something you’d find adorable if it wasn’t for the pang of rejection in your stomach.

Daughter. Family.

The words repeated themselves in your head as your eyes wandered to the black tray beside the tool cabinet. He wore several large rings. Lots of jewelry, in fact, but you couldn’t remember if any of them were a wedding band, and the embarrassment of developing a crush on a married man for weeks without taking two seconds to cross reference his left hand burned your cheeks hot.

“Hi,” his daughter said cutely, swaying from foot to foot while holding two of your fingers.

You crouched to her level. “Wanna draw while we wait?” She nodded, sucking on the tip of her thumb.

Steadying your spinny office chair while she climbed into it, you made sure she was comfortable before bringing out the black stool from Mr. Moore’s office, and sitting next to her. You opened your backpack, flipped to a clean sheet in your sketchpad, and presented it to her along with your colored pencils.

“Hmm, what should we draw?”

Adrie snatched the bubblegum pink color, and began her masterpiece. “Mrs. Teresa read us a book about a mouse.”

Thank God she said it was a mouse, because you didn’t want to be the one to guess what the two oblong circles on the page were.

Adorably, she filled you in on the parts of the story she remembered, and added a triangle of yellow cheese under the mouse, then waited for you to prompt another thing to draw. You followed the nocturnal theme and asked for an owl. She hesitated on what colors to choose, and you helped her pick out the shades of brown and tan.

“How old are you?” you asked while she inundated her bird with too many feathers.

“Four-and-a-half,” she said proudly. “How old are you?”

You raised your brows. “Certainly not four-and-a-half.”

At some point, your arm had wrapped itself around her. Maybe to help shift her closer to the desk. Maybe to collect her in a pseudo-hug when she completed her art. Maybe to let Eddie know everything was okay when he craned his neck to check on you while conversing with the man outside, and you put on your best face, grinning at the story his daughter reenacted about a cartoon she watched that morning at preschool.

“What next? What next?”

“Let’s see.. Can you draw me a bat?”

She was more sure of herself, grabbing the black pencil and outlining an entire colony of bats mid-flight with more attention to detail. “My daddy has bats.”

“He has bats?” you questioned, sweeping loose hair out of her face.

She pointed to her elbow.

Thinking on it for a moment, you perked up. “Oh! He has tattoos?” She recognized the word, nodding vigorously. “Interesting, interesting.”

She’d hardly begun to fill in their wings when Eddie opened the door, and held up the comically small backpack slung on his arm, signaling it was time to leave.

You helped her down from the chair, and she excused herself to the bathroom, which only contributed to the awkward silence when she disappeared down the hall and Eddie was forced to wait at your desk.

It didn’t have to be analyzed, nor stated. The reality.

He had an entire life outside of work.

Duh. Of course he did, but still. It was one he never shared with you. Not like you earned the privilege to know, or to be included in anything he didn’t want to divulge, but with how private he was, it came as a surprise.

Invoking the thousands of dollars you spent on acting classes, you moved on, and kept your tone light, “The butterfly backpack suits you. Not sure about the color, though. Bright pink clashes with your navy blue outfit.”

Tough crowd.

His sulky demeanor permeated in his dull gaze trained on his stained sleeves. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dumping her on you like that. Normally my uncle has the day off work and can take care of her, but he’s gotta go in because someone called out sick, so, yeah..”

If it were at all appropriate, you would reach across the countertop to soothe him from picking at his torn cuticles. But it wasn’t appropriate. So you didn’t.

You locked your hands behind your head and leaned back in your chair. “Funnily enough, I worked a brief stint as a clown for children’s birthday parties, so I’m actually quite comfortable entertaining them.”

“I’m shocked,” he said, void of shock. Finding the strength to lift his eyes from the animals she drew on your sketchpad to the encouraging curve of your lips, he tried to match your grin, but it fell flat. “At least you can go home on time today.”

You sucked in a breath for a quick retort, but Adrie interrupted you in her tiny voice, “Daddy! I can’t reach the sink!” And maybe that was for the best before you humiliated yourself more.

Because, the truth of the matter was, you always had the ability to go home on time. It was only because Eddie stayed behind that you made excuses to sit at your desk past your scheduled hours, prattling off some nonsense about memorizing the catalog.

“C’mon,” he said to his daughter, supporting her on his hip. “Let’s get going.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient, either. The creeping exhaustion he kept under wraps was breaking through. Stress fractures in the mask he wore around others. The sanity he gripped for dear life for the sake of Adrie.

He caught the empathetic pinch between your brows, and used the last of his energy to turn so his daughter could see you. “Say ‘bye,’ and ‘thank you’ for playing, Adrie.”

She waved with the same enthusiasm as a golden retriever wagging their tail. “Bye! Thank you!”

“Bye, Adrie,” you laughed. “Bye, Eddie.”

Like usual, he didn’t respond. Today that was okay.

————

Eddie was on the verge. He was trembling, failing to loosen a bolt on the water heater to investigate why it broke–again–when his hair was yanked–again–and his knuckles scraped a bent piece of metal–again.

He was kneeling on his kitchen floor, craving nothing more than a shower to wash away the work week until his skin burned, but he was not afforded the simple luxury.

No relaxation. Not for him. No one to call on when Wayne was gone. This was his life to fix. On his own.

After repairing cars all day, he was exhausted. Touched out. But Adrie needed something from him, something he couldn’t understand with his tired mind. All he wanted was a break. All he needed was a break from her using his coveralls to scale his body. All he sought was the energy to deal with her pulling his hair.

But he was not spared the fortune.

“Adrie, please,” he resorted to begging. And when she didn’t stop, he withdrew his arms from the closet, and pried her hands off his hair, peeling her away and setting her on the floor.

She made to grab him again, but he used his waning strength to squeeze her arms to her sides, giving her his full attention she fought for.

“Can I get you a snack? Or put something on the TV? Do you want a nap?” He listed off anything, shaking and desperate.

“I wanna play with Daddy.”

Guilt amplified the shame.

He was a shit dad. He knew. He did his best and it was never good enough.

“I know you do,” the words fluctuated in the wake of water stinging his eyes. “I know you do, but Daddy needs to fix this. I can make you a snack and you can eat it in the living room. How ‘bout that?” Under normal circumstances, that wasn’t allowed. She had a penchant for dropping sticky food on the carpet–which was just another thing he’d have to get around to cleaning–but he was willing to bend the rules for the promise of a shower.

Adrienne thought about his offer for a long while, and settled on his deal.

And yet, it was hours.. hours until he was able to sit down.

The water heater required more service than he initially thought, and his daughter wasn’t entertained by herself for very long. She came to him in intervals of minutes, climbing up his back and hanging from his neck. He stopped caring. He didn’t have it within him. He made sure she was safe, and that was it.

He fed her a dreadful dinner, and she was so happy for her overcooked noodles in pasta sauce. He saved the leftovers. Put them in the nearly-empty fridge and took out two beers for himself, cracking the tops before sinking into the couch.

Adrienne stood between his legs while he wrapped her in her favorite blanket, and placed her in his lap. The top half of his coveralls were tied by the sleeves around his waist. No matter how dirty he was, this was how they ended the night. Him staring blankly at the TV, and her cheek on his chest, ear pressed to his white tank top, listening to his heartbeat. Curling her fists into her tattered quilt in response to him nuzzling the top of her head, and resting there in a content hum. Closing his eyes. Turning off his brain. Tipping back swigs of beer until he felt better, and giving her kisses until she giggled and squirmed.

The kisses were as much for her as they were for him, giving and receiving the only affection in his life. Apologizing for earlier when he couldn’t stand to be touched.

Her hug was small, yet powerful. Clumsy, but what he needed. Another person to gather in his arms and have their weight fall asleep on his chest.

He collected Adrie, and gave her a few more doting kisses while carrying her to bed.

“Stay, Daddy.”

Sometimes he did, just to have a real bed to sleep in, but with how long it took to fix the water heater, there was only enough hot water to bathe her. He’d have to wait until the morning.

“Not tonight, Daddy’s still dirty from work.”

It hurt to walk away. It hurt more to sleep on the lumpy couch. Hurt worse when Wayne came home to crash on the roll out bed, and the sun funneled through the windows, and the day started all over again.

Hurt the most when Eddie thought about the surprised look on your face when you learned he had a daughter.

Hurt the least when he imagined a world in which you wouldn’t care, and still flirted with him come Monday morning, because fuck, it was the only thing he looked forward to after Adrie’s meltdowns on the way to school.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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bigdumbbambieyes · 3 months

Text

nsfwish

“I need an oil change,” Steve mumbles in the dark of their bedroom.

Billy’s just got back from the shop an hour ago, he’s showered and ate and now he’s having sleepy small talk with his boyfriend about their days. Bitching about Keith, laughing together over a funny story Robin shared, ranting about a bitchy customer who said she didn’t need new tires when they were smoother than sealskin.

“That so?” Billy mumbles back, turning onto his side to face Steve, wrapping his arm around him to keep his pretty boy close.

Steve nods with a soft ‘mhm’ as he throws his leg over Billy’s hip, hooking it there and pulling him closer.

In the soft light of the street lamp outside, Billy can make out Steve’s face — his playful expression — as he hums, “But, I don’t have any money.”

Like a fucking cheesy line in a porno.

Billy feels an amused smile pull at his lips regardless, his eyes half-lidded as he’s staring at his boyfriend, sliding his hand up and down Steve’s back. He makes a soft ‘tsk’ sound of disappointment, as if he hasn’t changed Steve’s oil a dozen times already at no charge.

But, it’s fun to play pretend.

“Well, I’m sure we could work out some sort of payment plan for your broke ass,” Billy smirks, grinning as Steve bursts out into a bit of laughter in his arms.

He lets Steve regain his composure, although he’s flushed pink and grinning now as he says, “I just lost my job, I can’t pay you…”

“Mm, that’s too bad,” Billy hums, sliding his hand down the length of Steve’s back, smirking again, “I think we have an extra pair of coveralls in the back, let’s get you started on Monday.”

“Oh my god, just let me suck your dick!” Steve laughs again, making a show of trying to escape his boyfriend’s arms but Billy just laughs with him and clings even harder, unwilling to let Steve go for even a second.

“Ooh, is that what you were trying to do?” Billy grins again, chuckling along as he pokes at Steve’s sides just to hear his boyfriend yelp.

Steve’s quick to pinch his side, though, and that’s when they begin to wrestle.

Flipping each other over and grunting from exertion, laughing quietly in the dark as they try to pin one another, swearing under their breath until Billy’s got Steve pinned face-down, his hands holding his boyfriend’s down onto the bed.

“You…you’ve got me in a compromising position,” Steve pants with a soft chuckle.

“Not quite,” Billy breathes, sliding one of his arms under Steve’s neck and gently putting him in a headlock, his mouth pressing against the shell of Steve’s ear as he grinds his half hard cock down into his ass, muttering, “Now I do.”

He can feel the vibration of Steve’s moan in his throat against his arm, and the way his boyfriend grinds back against him, the soft and firm plush of his ass making him hot all over.

“If I let you cum in me, do I get a free air freshener to hang on my rear view mirror?” Steve asks, a little breathless now, his face flushing.

“You’re such a fucking dork,” Billy chuckles, although the question goes straight to his dick so he sighs, “Yeah, you do.”

Steve laughs so Billy flexes his arm, turning the sound into a choked off moan.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #lemon #am i at my car dealership writing sorta smut while waiting for my oil change? yes!#am i ashamed? no!#bambiwrites

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forever-rogue · 4 months

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Hello! Could I request something where Eddie is Bi and he’s dating female reader and Eddie used to have a crush on Steve and reader knows and teases him about it such as in the boat where Steve takes off his shirt and throws it at him and reader knows he’s low key freaking out about it and she finds it cute how he reacts. Yk he obviously won’t cheat but he’s reminded of why he had a crush on him, that kind of thing you know?

AN | Okay but Bi!Eddie is canon to me and it would be so fun to tease him about his little crush 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Bi!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hello handsome,” Eddie practically melted when he heard your sweet voice cut through his thoughts. You walked into the back of his shop, trying not to startle him if he happened to be under a car; luckily you heard him closing a hood before you were greeted with his smile. You weaved your way over to him, all soft and smiley and sugary sweet - a complete contrast to his current environment. You held out an ice cold bottle of water to him, which he eagerly took and started to chug, “figured you could use that today.”

"You're right baby," he closed his bottle and leaned in to give you a wet, minty kiss. You grabbed the front of his coveralls and pulled closer, kissing him again, "you're killing me."

"You've been gone all day," you teased softly, playing with a chocolatey rogue curl that had escaped his bun, "can you really blame a girl for missing her man?"

"Fuck no," he scoffed, "missed you too, baby. You look pretty today."

"You think this looks pretty," you dragged your fingers along the soft fabric of your dress' strap. Eddie was a simple man at the end of the day, and seeing you in a dress sparked some sort of primal urge, "you should see what's underneath."

"You're playing dirty," he groaned, trying to control himself so he didn't get a hard on in the middle of work. He wondered if it was either pretty lingerie or nothing at all. He'd find out soon enough he hoped, "I'm going to get you back for this."

"I hope you do," you patted his chest and gave him a soft, playful little push back, "so -"

"Aha," he sighed dramatically as he often did, "you have an ulterior motive. I should have known."

"Calm down, Edward," you laughed fondly, a sound that seemed to go straight to his heart and made butterflies flutter in his tummy, "its a good thing! I was talking with Steve and Robin today and they suggested we all spend the long holiday weekend at the cabin. What do you think?"

"You've already said yes for us."

"I've already said yes for us," you confirmed sweetly, "I didn't see why not. Unless you can't handle being stuck with your little boyfriend all weekend.”

“Stopppp,” he groaned, cheeks turned a pretty shade of bubblegum pink as tried to pull up his coveralls over his warm face, “I regret ever telling you I had a crush on Steve Harrington.”

“Baby boy, I am not blind,” you pulled the dark blue fabric away from his pretty face, “I know when you’re looking and when you’re looking. I think it’s cute, Eddie. Besides, you have good taste - Steve is a handsome guy.”

��Excusez-moi?” over exaggerated, in a horrible French accent. You loved this absolute dork.

“You didn’t let me finish,” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, “Steve is a handsome guy but you, Eddie Munson, are the handsomest and hottest man alive. My loins burn for you!”

“I…I can’t believe this is how the love of my life, my future wife, and the future mother of my children is acting,” with a hand on his chest, he hung his head and sighed deeply. Meanwhile your heart was rapidly pitter-pattering as your bones felt like jelly at the future wife and mother of my children comment. Eddie, loud and boisterous, had many times declared he was going to marry you and that you’d have all the children you wanted. But hearing it now still felt as electric as the first time.

“I could say the same for you, future husband and father of my children,” but you were all fond smiles and soft eyes, “I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t work too hard, okay?”

“I’ll be home soon,” he reached for your hand and squeezed it gently, “wanna do Chinese for dinner?”

“Hell yeah,” you cheered excitedly, “I’ll call in and order-”

“And I’ll pick up on my way home,” he grinned.

“Excellent teamwork,” you loved him. You really, really loved him, “don’t forget - this weekend at the lake house!”

“Ugh!”

He was still grumbling under his breath as you waved and walked out of the garage. How was he going to survive a weekend with you and Steve in bathing suits? He wasn’t going to, short and simple.

But it would still be fun. Right? Right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Alright,” Steve Harrington was a natural leader. It was something he’d picked up quickly when he’d begun being everyone’s babysitter. But it was a role that suited him well and he looked so natural standing on the dock in front of the whole gang, arms outstretched as he tried to gather everyone’s attention. You were standing off the right with Eddie, hands entwined and fingers laced together. Robin was square in the middle, Nancy shyly tucked into her side; the newness of their relationship still strong. Jonathan and Argyle rounded out the group along with Chrissy Cunningham. A ragtag group of survivors that had turned to friends to found family.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

You knew Eddie was excited to be with everyone but you also knew that he was lowkey freaking out about Steve. Sweet, golden, wonderful Steve that was oblivious to the fact that Eddie had harbored a crush on him for several years before you came along. Steve was his best friend and his former crush, but you were the love of his life. He knew that much, and so did you. It was still just a little fun to tease him.

“Listen up nerds,” Steve looked between all of you as you started to playfully boo him, “this weekend is all about being lazy and having fun. So, don’t drown, remember sunscreen, and if you’re going to have sex keep it down and safe.”

“Hell yeah,” you heard Argyle and Jonathan snickering among themselves as you pressed a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder. Your friends were absolutely ridiculous sometimes but loved them all.

“And don’t forget - bonfires at nine o’clock sharp. There will be s’mores and beers,” that had you all excited, “now go and have fun, children!”

Everyone started to scatter as you took Eddie’s hand and started to pull him along to the house. He pretended to huff dramatically as you grinned at him. He looked so good with black shorts and a cut off tank, tattoos on full display, dark ink against pale skin. His mess of curls was pulled into a bun at the stop of his head, a few curls framing his face. He had on a pair of black ray bans and beat up vans on his feet, the pure essence of cool.

“Come on handsome,” naturally he obliged you and let you drag him along, “let’s get changed and go swimming. It’s so hot and the water looks perfect.”

“Did you bring-”

“The red two-piece that has you practically drooling?” you barely managed to get your words out before squealing as Eddie picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, practically running into the house, “Edward! I didn’t even give you an answer!”

“I presume the answer is a big, fat yes?” He opened the door to the room where you would be staying during your trip. You huffed as he gently set you down on the bed before caging you in between his arms and kissing you softly. You leaned into his touch, pressing to pull away from him until you were in desperate need of a fresh breath of air, “baby, baby, baby.”

“The answer to your question is a big fat no,” he rolled on his back and threw his arms out in mock exasperation, “calm down and let me finish.”

“You’re a cruel mistress!”

“I got a whole new bathing suit,” you rolled onto your stomach so you could face him. You reached up and touched his face, tenderly brushing your fingers along his cheek, “and I think you’re going to like it.”

“Sweetheart, you could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the entire world,” your entire face softened at his world and you almost melted into a puddle, “and on top of all that, you’ve got the best and biggest heart of all.”

“And great tits-”

“And great tits,” he confirmed as if there was ever any doubt to that, “you’re the whole package baby. I love you.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you took his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “you are the best man. Just so you know.”

He smiled at you, letting out a small wistful little sigh, “before we get too mushy, let’s get changed and get some sun.”

“That sounds excellent, my love.”

Okay. Okay. You hadn't been lying when you'd told Eddie that he would like this bathing suit. Bright pink and looking like it was made for you, fitting just as you liked and showing off all the curves you wanted to. You owned it and that in and of itself made you dangerously sexy. Eddie had to work to make sure he didn't get a hard on in front of everyone; he was glad for the cold water of the lake. He might have been drooling though…that was hard to control when you looked like that.

But - but - it got worse. He didn't think it could get worse than trying to control himself around you but then it did. He wasn't sure whether to curse you, Steve Harrington, or everything out in the universe.

Once he'd calmed down enough and the two of you were playing around in the water, Steve Harrington came out to join you. He was wearing a pair of navy blue swim trunks and nothing else besides a pair of flip flops and sunglasses. He looked good and he knew it.

And so did Eddie. His eyes raked over Steve's lithe, tan figure, which you quickly caught onto. Eddie studied his golden skin, littered with freckles and delicious chest hair. He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat enormous.

You hadn't realize that Steve had come out at first but when Eddie suddenly fell silent you knew something was wrong.

"Babe?" On his back on his float, chest already getting tan from the hot summer sun, was Eddie with his mouth hanging open as he stared straight at the dock. You followed his eyeline and almost laughed out loud when you realized what was going on. He quickly glared at you as you stifled your laugh which turned into a horrible snorting sound, "Edward."

"Sweetheart," he huffed like a child, pretty plush lips pulled into a pout as he looked at you, "affectionately - shut up!"

"You are the least conspicuous person ever! At least try to act like you're not drooling!"

"I am not drool-"

"Hey there."

You grinned at Steve as the boy swam over to you, a lazy smile on his face as he treaded water without effort. You splashed some water at Eddie as he remained silent, only a pained look on his face.

"Hey," he snapped to attention and looked between the two of you, brain overloaded with the amount of attractiveness between the two of you, "looking good, Harrington."

If there had been a wall in front of him, he would have been banging his head already. You snorted in amusement before floating onto your back and slowly swimming away with a wave. You were going to let them have their own moment.

"You too man," Steve had a smile so pretty that it was almost cruel. Eddie returned the grin with what he hoped was an equally lovely one, "being in love looks good on you."

"I-I'm not in love with you," Eddie's voice stammered and shook as he looked at Steve with wide, worried eyes. Steve tossed his head back with laughter. Oh. That wasn't what he was insinuating? Awkward.

"I know that," he reached over and gently tugged on one of Eddie's loose curls, "still hope you've got some love for me though."

"Duh," the two of them exchanged shy smiles, "always."

"Me too," Steve agreed and Eddie's heart started to rattle wildly in his chest, "wanna know a secret, Munson?"

"S-sure."

"It would have been cool if it would have been you," and just like that, Eddie was sure his heart stopped beating. The flow of the river around him seemed so loud and he was trying to convince himself that he was hearing incorrectly. Judging from the look on Steve's face, he hadn't heard incorrectly, "but I think we're on the right path regardless."

“Yeah,” Eddie knew that Steve was already devoted to Chrissy. The two of them clearly shared a deep bond despite only having been dating for a few months. When Eddie first learned that Steve was dating someone new, and then when he realized it was another of his friends, he could admit that some jealousy flared up. It was natural, and that was what you tried to explain to Eddie. Even though the two of you had each other and you both knew that you loved each other, it was a normal human emotion to still feel things for other people, “I agree.”

“And just so you know, you’re the most attractive guy I’ve ever met,” Eddie’s cheeks were already pink from the sun he’d been getting - he wasn’t good at remembering to apply sunscreen despite your insistence - but they just turned about ten shades darker when he heard Steve’s confession. Steve bit his lip as he blushed as well, “and you’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too, handsome,” Eddie broke the bit of awkward tension that had settled in between the two of them. There was a moment of silence before the two of them broke into a fit of laughter. You’d found Robin and Nancy and the three of you were watching the boys in amusement. You’d all been taking bets on when, if ever, they’d reveal that they had had crushes on the other, “wanna go and grab a beer?”

“Hell yeah,” he agreed as the two of them high-fived. Steve started to swim towards the dock but Eddie paused for a moment as he turned around to wave at you, a goofy smile on his face. You couldn’t help but return the smile, your heart melting with nothing but affection for your man.

He might have been a fool but he was your fool.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time all of you made your way back to your bedrooms. The bonfire had gone late into the night and all of you had been reluctant to go to bed despite the fact that you’d be there all week. This was a much needed trip for everyone.

“Hey,” you let yourself fall into the bed, laughing as Eddie copied you and jumped in next to you, easily putting his arm around you and pulling towards him. You couldn’t help yourself as you pressed kisses to his forehead, cheeks, and nose. He giggled at the soft touch of yourself before sighing softly as you draped yourself over him, “I love you, honey boy.”

“I love you,” he reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a small squeeze, “did you know that Steve had a crush on me?”

“I didn’t know,” you stretched out his arms and pressed kisses to his pale, inked skin, “but I knew. We all did. Wasn’t hard to see the two pretty boys oogling each other all the time.”

“We didn’t…oh,” his face between a range of emotions as he processed what you said. Suddenly it all seemed so obvious, “we did, didn’t we. Well, that would have been good to know a few years ago.”

“Excuse me?” you pretended to be shocked and hurt as you turned floppy in his hold, “are you telling me that you think Steve would have been the love of your life and the two of you would have been together living happily ever after?!”

“No way, princess,” he tenderly put his hand on your cheek and turned your face up to his, “you and I were meant to be. That’s never going to change. You’re it for me, baby.”

“I know,” you offer him a cheeky grin, “I just wanted to hear you say it, my love. Never gets old.”

“Then I’ll continue to remind you,” he pulled you down to his lips and kissed you sweetly, “every single day of my life.”

“Promise?” and yeah. He would do absolutely anything in the world for you.

“Promise,” he replied, voice low and soft, “but I’m still mad at you.”

“Mad at me?! Why?” you huffed and started to tickle him, causing him to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Because it should be illegal to be this good looking,” he huffed, “gonna be the death of me.”

“What about you?” you kissed him slowly, “you’re just as bad. Good thing we’re stuck together.”

“Forever,” he confirmed, “ahh, baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Eddie. Lots and lots and then some more, goofy boy.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #bi!eddie #joseph quinn #stranger things

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ares857 · 1 year

Text

internet finds

If you want this project to continue, you can use the Paypal donation button on the web page of the blog. Any donation is welcome.

#overalls #coveralls #jumpsuit #boilersuit #pink #pink overalls #pink coveralls #sneakers #boy and girl #cute #cute guy #cool #cool look #street style #red shoes

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riconastyfan · 2 years

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#Rico nasty #marco alexander #polaroids #polaroid picture #black visor #black straight wig #pink coveralls #pink jumpsuit #2022 #millikin university #university #college show #carebearaesthetic #care bears #black and white photo #black and white pictures #lefthandla

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loveshotzz · 10 days

Text

Okay, so good news and bad news. Bad news is I did not finish chapter four but the good news is I got a ton done and I feel really good about it, and the thing that was blocking me is no longer blocking me anymore so I can finally keep going ♥️ I spent a lot of time reconnecting with the story today and listening to the playlist after being away from it for so long, and I feel confident I’m back in the swing of things with it. 🥹

So to make up for it, here’s an 18+ snippet for you :)))

He wastes no time crowding the space behind you, pressing himself into your ass so you can feel just how hard you have him. The tip of his nose skims the shell of your ear, the corners of his lips twitching when you shiver because of it. Fingertips brush the sides of your breasts, before big hands follow the curve of your waist, trailing down to the tops of your thighs where they curl under the hem of your dress, pulling it up to rest at your hips.

The sticky air of the garage makes your skin slick and the new exposure does nothing to help it. Two of his calloused fingers trace along the waistband of your underwear, humming in approval every time you gasp and push back against him when he lets them dip underneath.

Swollen pink lips leave a trail of wet kisses up your shoulder, perfect teeth nipping at your earlobe before sucking it in the heat of his mouth. The feeling of it has your jaw go slack, lashes tickling the tops of your cheek leaning your entire weight onto him, needing him closer, needing more.

”I think you know what I want to do about it, pretty girl.” His voice comes out gruff against your ear, and if you weren’t so turned on you’d be embarrassed at the whimper you give him because of it.

“The real question is,” he breathes, fingers pushing past the elastic again, daring to go lower than just to tease, the heat radiating from between your legs making him kick up in his coveralls. “Are you gonna let me?”

He uses two fingers to spread your lips apart, and he can hear just how wet you actually are. A deep groan rattles from the back of his throat, with a muttered ’fuck’ hot down your neck because he can’t wait to feel it.

“Mmhmm,” you nod, leaning your head back against his shoulder, chest heaving from all the anticipation and butterflies you’ve tried to ignore this whole time.

You roll your hips to encourage him, words getting lost on the tip of your tongue because all you want him to do is touch you but you can’t bring yourself to say it.

It’s all he needs to end the teasing though, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck while he runs those same two fingers up your dripping seam, collecting everything you’re offering him with a loud moan. Your knees nearly buckle when the pads of them find your bundle of nerves with ease, rubbing the kind of circles that have you grabbing onto his wrist for support, the blunt ends of your nails biting into his skin.

”I could be so nice to you baby,” he whispers, picking up the speed of his wrist enough to have you gasp his name, and god he needs to hear you do it again, “don’t you want that?”

#mechanic!steve #i guess it’s never really over #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader

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looseratinthegarage · 2 years

Note

How about this: y/n was gifted a blood red showerlotion/bath and when the slashers (rz michael/thomas and any slasher you like to add) see you drenched in it they panic and think you have hurt yourself or even tried to take your life(you being in the tub and the water being red)?

Y/n used red soap and the slashers having a stroke

Michael has a blood kink you can’t convince me otherwise. Anyway! I hope you like it!

Rz Michael

You took your dirty clothes off and threw them onto the floor without care. You had recently been given a new red body wash by a friend. It was supposed to be the best at getting rid of the icky germs; and in the Myers household there’s a lot of that.

You lean into the shower and turn the handle with a squeak. You let it begin to warm before getting in. Someone silently enters the back door, but you still catch it. Michael must be home.

You check the water and get in. The warmth envelopes you and you let out a sigh. You waste no time and grab the body wash. You pour a glob on your hand and begin rubbing it up and down your body. It didn’t make bubbles disappointingly, but it’ll do.

The bathroom door opens, but the sounds of the water running blocked it out.

Suddenly the shower door slides open. You let out a little gasp and see Michael. He reaches in and grabs you from your pleasant shower. In a bridal hold he kneels now and looks at you with wide eyes. He begins checking your body frantically.

“what the fuck!-” You shout looking at him aghast.

Once he finds no wounds his posture relaxes. He swipes two fingers on the familiar looking liquid and brings it to his face. He sniffs it and turns his head to the side.

“Michael- Did, did you think that was blood?” You say holding in your laughs.

He meets your eyes with a very unamused look.

“Awwwh~ KYAA-” You hit the cold tile with a yell.

He let go of you and stands up. You whine at your boyfriend as he walks away and groan at your now very sore body. He turns around and looks down, he rolls his eyes. He pulls his coveralls down and picks you up.

“What are you?-” you question, but warm water hits you faster than you could process.

“M-Michael!” You stutter and begin to blush.

He sets you down in the bathtub and inspects the red bottle. He then puts way too much on his hands and sits down with you. He rubs the blood like soap on your arms, then stomach, and chest... His hand glides to your throat and gives it a gentle squeeze. Then it clicks.

“You- you have a blood kink don’t you!” You say, your face getting redder by the second.

He turns his head to the side then smears some on your face. You slowly look down and see he’s as hard as a rock. You quickly look up and see his own, almost unnoticeable, pink blush.

Thomas

You needed a shower desperately. Hoyt, being the absolute gentleman he is, tripped you into a puddle of thick mud. He thought it was hilarious, going so far as to offer you a hand only to let you fall again.

You walk up the porch steps and wipe your feet off. You open the door and head inside. Luda Mae saw you and gawked.

“Hell happen to you?” She asked surprised.

“…Your son…” you grumpily mumble.

You turn and start heading up the old plantation's stairs.

“Hoyt!!!” You hear Luda yell and slam the front door.

You’d normally laugh, but you just did the laundry. You open the bathroom door and peel your muddy clothes off of your body. You look like a pig. You groan and turn the water on. You push the curtain open and hop into the slowly warming shower.

You reach down and grab a newly stolen body wash, taken from some trespassers. You pour it on your hands and begin scrubbing your body down. You hear the doorknob rattle for a moment then the door opens.

“If that’s you Hoyt, I’m ripping your dick off.” You threaten, only to see Thomas’s face pop through the curtain.

“Oh, hi sweetheart- eek!!” You greet him the let out a little shriek.

He pulls you out of the shower frantically and sits on the closed toilet. He sits you on his lap and looks down at your body with fearful eyes. He checks for injuries, and he feels relieved but also very confused. He takes your red covered arm.

“Who’s blood?” He writes on you.

You look at him questionably for a moment then put the pieces together.

“It’s body wash, dear, not blood.” You giggle and kiss the side of his mask.

Even behind the leather you can see his face heat up in embarrassment. You cup his face lovingly, you found it so sweet that he got so worried.

“What about my dick?” Hoyt asks outside the door suggestively.

“I’m gonna kill him,” You take a deep breath, Thomas nods.

“One of these days imma snap,” you explain. “Don’t be surprised when it happens, cus it’s gonna happen, and it’s gonna happen fast.” You joke and pat Thomas on the chest as you get off of him.

He laughs and stands up. You pull him down for one more kiss and get back into the shower.

“Your wasting water,” Hoyt comments.

Thomas opens the door and you hear Hoyt mutter an uh-oh.

#slashers #horror #slasher community #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #texas chainsaw massacre #halloween #rz michael myers x s/o #rz michael myers x reader #rz halloween #rz michael myers #thomas hewitt x reader #tcm thomas #tcm 2003 #tcm 2006 #tcm the beginning #tcm

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slasher-dasher · 4 months

Note

Ummmmm

Headcanons where the slashers end up dating a cute s/o like the COMPLETE opposite of them like their s/o loves to dress in cute clothes and is very bubbly and sweet and caring and the slashers just a murderer- (words are hard)

Slashers w/an Opposite S/O

︶꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷♡꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Danny Johnson:

He loves horror movies, and doesn't get that scared easily bc of this. You though...

Every time you two have a movie night you cling to him for dear life. He does cover your eyes during more intense scenes so you don't get sick/squeamish from the gore. (You two watch a more lighthearted movie after nights like that)

Loves this, he likes knowing that you want to enjoy his interests even if it's not your thing, and that he does the same. Loves knowing you aren't afraid of him

Also likes how caring you are towards him, especially when he's being distant to prepare for a hunt

HATES how sweet you are to everyone else, but he doesn't let it show unless the other person thinks you're flirting. Danny gets jealous very easily

RZ!Michael Myers:

He's absolutely the creative one out of the two of you, a lot of the house decor was chosen by both of you and arranged by him, along with some homemade items for a personal touch. Many things he makes are on display

He peeked into your closet once to make you a few masks and took psychic damage from all the colors in it. You two are like the black and pink house meme

If he isn't wearing his white mask and coveralls, he's wearing band t-shirts, black jeans or sweatpants, and any of his masks that fit the outfit (usually the orange one)

Doesn't seem to be bothered by your bubbly personality, but when you get either too loud or really hyper he holds your head in his hands to let you both calm down for a bit

Michael is not an affectionate person, but he won't push you away if you try to cuddle or hug him, he just won't initiate

Bo Sinclair:

Angry man who's mad at the world 🤝 the person who makes him soft

Your happy-go-lucky personality does make him melt though, even if he doesn't want to admit it. His brothers joke with him about it constantly

Vincent is the only one who tries to keep the house clean when he's there, but the other two Sinclair's don't really keep up with it. Thankfully, you love to have a clean space, and it stops Bo in his tracks the first time he walks in on you scrubbing every surface in sight

He still has his moments, especially if you've been away from him for longer than an hour. You're taken everywhere he can drag you if he's feeling jealous (as far away from his brothers as possible)

Bo is a very emotionally repressed person, so someone like you who just seems to be an open book is very new for him. Might not want to get too close to you at first bc he doesn't want to scare you off

Billy Lenz:

Oh you are in for a hectic partner with Billy

The first time you pick up one of his calls and hear how vulgar he is you're a blushing mess, and he eats that shit up. No one else can pick up when he calls or your sorority friends start going missing.

You'd think he'd be clingy but he doesn't like to be touched unless he asks, which you forget about sometimes (cue dissociation)

Your softness also caught him off guard. He knew you were easily embarrassed, but he didn't know you would be understanding too

His talking and echolalia are at all time highs around you. Most of your time in the attic is hours of him talking about whatever pops into his mind while you just quietly listen. He likes this much better than talking to you on the phone bc it's just you two (and Claude sometimes)

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sassydefendorflower · 1 year

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Fashion Worldbuilding in FMA:b

From a historical fashion standpoint, the fashion in FMA:b (and the manga) is all over the place, but since the 1914/1915 setting of Amestris is not actually linked to the real historical time period there is no need to apply rigid fashion rules to the worldbuilding. And yet, I think it is very interesting to explain the fashion of Amestris through a Watsonian lens.

And what better place to start with than the very a-historical skin-tight, skin-showing clothing of our teenage characters?

Winry is always dressed practically and job oriented (coveralls, gloves, something to tie her hair back with) and yet she’s also dressed like a typical modern teenager. Crop tops and short skirts are the norm for when Winry is doing everyday stuff outside of her workshop or extreme territories. She is by far not the only character that dresses like this - we see both Matel and Paninya in similarly tight and form-fitting outfits.

And the world around them doesn’t react to this excess of skin with disgust or outrage - their way of clothing seems to be the general norm, or at least pretty widespread and accepted. But if we look closer, it seems that this is only a societal norm for young people.

Most of the older women we meet, are dressed rather conservatively, with dresses and long skirts being the norm. Hair is most often drawn in a bun on older female characters, and the general dress shape seems to be late 19th century inspired.

In this crowd scene for example, we can see a handful of young women wearing pants with their hair open, while the majority of the women depicted seem to be wearing skirts, dresses, and aprons as befitting a working women, while others seems to have scarves wrapped around their shoulders as if out and about on a stroll through town.

Which would make sense. This would divide the expected “proper” way of dressing along the axis of age (and/or marital status), with the cut-off being somewhere in the mid- to late twenties. Characters like Riza Hawkeye, Matel, and Sheska play into this, as they are all more conservatively dressed as Winry, but do not yet follow stricter fashion rules as they seem to be common in older demographics.

In this scene Riza is wearing a skirt that covers her knees and a jacket that covers her neck and the entirety of her arms. We later see her dressed in different civilian clothes as well, with a white blouse, a pink cardigan, and comfortable loose pants. As such she is in a transitional phase of fashion, between the more loose and short styles of the youth and the more traditional cuts of the older generation.

Shezka is much the same, her blouse and typical turtleneck much more “grown up” than the clothes Winry and her age-mates wear, and yet the rest of her clothes have not yet reached the same level of “age”. Both of these characters are also unmarried, which could be another factor in the way they dress - historically speaking, expectations on dress were different between single women and those that were married, so there is a distinct possibility of the same being the case in the world of FMA.

Which brings us to another very interesting axis of analysis: how do jobs and fashion interact in Fullmetal Alchemist?

The way I see it Amestris is a country on the verge of changing. We see a noteworthy amount of female soldiers, but only one female General - so much so, that Sloth is ordered to kill “the” female General, because Olivier Mira Armstrong is the only woman in the upper brass. The other female soldiers we meet all have ranks up to First Lieutenant, but nothing above. There are no female State Alchemists. Most of the other professionals we meet are men.

It makes sense for Olivier to be the first female general based on her family history and the fact that she was probably an outstanding soldier - but it also highlights that the military as a structure has probably only allowed female soldiers for up to 30 to 40 years by the time we meet the Elrics and their world. And I see much of Amestris through that lens - most gender-based laws have probably been repelled by now, but the society at large still remembers a much more divided structure. This is reflected in the fashion, of course.

In a country that has only recently changed its views on which professional fields should be open to all genders, the divide between the fashion rules for those that remember more rigid structures and those that grew up without certain assumptions is growing. Societal standards are slow to change, but they do reflect the opinions of the general public - or at least the rules and traditions people tend to cling to.

Let’s take Gracia for example. While the hemline in general seems to be rising in all age demographics (except the elderly, while staying relatively conservative in older demographics and - hypothetically - married women) Gracia dresses less form-fitting than other women in her age range (Riza Hawkeye, Rebecca Catalina). She is generally dressed more “proper”, even later on when we see her wearing skirts that end above the knee. What I really find interesting though is the comparison to her younger self - roughly eight years younger, as this is a picture from the end of the Ishval War. Even though she is probably about twenty to twenty-three in this picture, she is dressed a lot more conservative than all the other female characters we have met in that age range so far. This can have multiple reasons. Maybe Gracia is from a more conservative, rich family that favors more traditional style of dress - or we can see the rabid change in society in just eight years.

Again, Amestris as a society in the middle of extreme social change.

We can even see it in the military uniforms. Female soldiers in active duty wear the same clothes as their male counterparts.

(including the butt-cape)

But what we see multiple times is other female officers employed at Central Command (or other military headquarters) wearing a different uniform - with a much shorter skirt (tho a longer skirt option seems to be available, as we also see female soldiers wearing skirts that cover the knees).

This could imply two things: a) the longer skirts were the normal uniform for female employees of the military not cleared for active duty, and only recently shorter skirts became a part of the uniform as a reaction to the changing fashion landscape or b) the shorter skirts existed for longer as some sort of sexist tool of the upper brass to demean their female employees.

For the sake of our current worldbuilding, let’s go with Option A).

Again, the general hemline seems to be rising - in a way, it wouldn’t even be historically unheard off. In the 1920s the female silhouette changed so much in young, city-dwelling circles that you might even see the occasional knee peak out from under a skirt - Amestris could be experiencing a similar change in fashionable dress.

There is one other thing I want to mention while I’m at it: the influences of other cultures on Amestrian culture and fashion.

Amestris is an imperial power, and while that means that it has a very strong national identity on the one hand, we can also see how it has adapted other cultural influences in its daily life. While the wearing of traditional Ishvalen clothing is probably demonized and a sure way to get othered, influenced from other nations Amestris is war-ing with can be found.

Xing-style clothing seems to be pretty common, and if anything it seems to be a sign of status to be able to afford clothes from Xing.

We see Mrs. Bradley were Xing-style clothing multiple times throughout the show, and it always seems to be something a lady of good standing can do without consequences. This implies a certain level of cultural trade and exchange between the two countries, especially once you consider that Xingese features seem to be common enough in Amestris that Ling always has to mention his status as a foreigner since his appearance alone would not give it away.

(And the fact that all Lan Fan and Fu had to do to go undercover was exchange their Xingese dress for classical Amestrian clothing and suddenly they could disappear in a crowd without a problem)

And this bit of decor in General Grumman’s office? This also implies some sort of cultural influences from Drachma.

There is also the fact that class probably does play a role in the way people dress, with people from Rush Valley, a certified weird town full of weird people, dressing more wild, with less need for social conventions in a place like that. And people from the countryside favoring practicality over fashion, and much of the women we see there wearing loose dresses and aprons, which makes sense. At the same time, what little we see of the Armstrong family, they seem to favor a more conservative style of dress, even at a younger age.

Which makes sense - fashion is influenced by a lot of different factors, class, age, gender, gender representation, work and cultural influences all making a difference.

And just as an aside - while this post mostly discusses women’s fashion in FMA:b, I think it applies to men’s fashion as well. At least to a certain degree. While most men are much more uniformly dressed in “old-timey” clothing, the current shift seems to be happening when it comes to wearing hats.

And I also think teenage boys are less tied to the fashion expectations of their time - Edward for example dresses very modernly and weird. BUT and - this is very interesting - his sense of fashion is constantly considered as outside of the norm. Part of his Growing-Up Arc is starting to wear the clothes society expects him to wear... which means that while women’s fashion is rapidly changing, men’s fashion is still rather strict in comparison, with breaking of the rules being perceived as socially “punishable” in comparison.

#fma #fmab #edward elric #winry rockbell #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma meta #fmab meta #fashion history #paninya #maria ross #my fun take on the world of amestris #amestris #fake fashion history #nothing too deep #just me doing a too deep analysis of the text #watsonian analysis

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