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nanaminsmoon · 4 months

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busy boy. - a. arlet.(mdni.18+)

a/n: i haven't written smut in a minute y'all so bear with me lol.

wc: 3000+ & lazily proofread.

armin never thought he’d see the day that his every limb would be consumed by the guilt spawned in his chest by the sight of his hands and your golden ‘eren’ necklace fighting for a spot on your bare chest. small tinges of the sickly feeling deformed every cell in his body, as he had you on his bed with your face buried in his pillow and your ass cheek meeting his open palm.

“eren stretch you out like this?”, armin asked against the skin at the top of your back and, fucked out beyond measure, all you could do was shake your head against the pillows. remorse wasn’t a concern for either of you; any loyalty to eren riding the stream spilling out of your eyes, to leave your body and sink into the armin-scented textile pushing against your cheek.

you had expected nothing from armin; he was an unassuming suburban boy, raised by a wealthy grandfather who was loved by everybody in his community, and had instilled immovable morals in his grandson. the first, on a long list of many, being extreme loyalty—a value you wouldn’t have guessed he held so dear to his heart with how fast he let you in after seeing your pretty face on his gate camera. that was because the former was the armin he allowed to leave the confines of his home. and in reality, behind a tightly shut titanium door, was the armin that wanted nothing more than to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend senseless.

that fact unbeknownst to you, walking into it, you felt that expecting armin to bend his personal ethos for the sake of your retribution was self-serving at best, and asinine at worst, but you’d still given it a try. because the chances of your plan backfiring may have been high, but your dignity would not allow for anything else. and receiving a text that was evidently meant for someone else meant that you wanted to hurt eren in a way you knew would cut deep, and rid him of any trust he held in anyone. if he wanted to fuck around, then you’d do him the honour of helping him find out.

as the gate slowly opened, anxiety would inflate and deflate your lungs raggedly as you let go of a very deep breath. though your brain was void of any thought, your body would work for you—moving your legs to walk through his gate once there was enough space to do so. then your path to armin’s front door would be illuminated by the light casting a shadow around the figure stood in the doorway, watching you with their hands in their pockets. judging by the frame, you knew it had to be armin. and that’s when your anxiety increased tenfold.

the surprise brought by you pushing past him so suddenly twisted armin’s lips, making the corners of his mouth rigid. cerulean curiosity would begin a journey; starting at your choice of clothing—a dress unfit for the cold spring night air—before moving down to your legs. smooth brown skin was covered by a translucent façade of comfortability that, judging by the light convulses in your upper body, was not doing much to keep you warm. every intricate detail drew the conclusion that your hasty actions were a consequence of the, less than kind, weather conditions. but that conclusion was made before the scorching words brewing within you, travelled at lightening speed to leave your mouth,

“fuck me”. those two searing syllables rolled off your tongue, sweeping the space separating the both of you—their intensity causing armin to blink dramatically. and the thud caused by the closure of the heavy door would be the only thing to fill the deafening silence.

“huh?”, was all armin could gather amongst the heap of his scattered thoughts flooding the ground beneath his laden feet. but yours would move towards him, cautiously; three steps in his direction would be the extent of your movements towards armin, before you took your coat off—noticing the way he watched you narrowly—and casually let it drop to the ground.

wool lined slippers left the wooden floor, to meet it again, as your advances had armin retreating. one step backward would be the extent of his withdrawals—his limbs frozen by the way you moved towards him in a sensuous slink. not one thought of what to do next came into armin’s head, even as your arms rose—forearms delicately resting on his shoulders and impatient digits entangling themselves in his golden locks, each carrying their own portion of your ulterior motive.

“i said, fuck me, armin”, you reiterated, and words had never carried a physical weight until that moment. their gravity overtook the presence of that already in the air, forcefully pulling him into the ground.

“eren set you up to do this?”, armin asked, his question accompanied by a harsh swallow of whatever he could gather in his dry mouth. tawny lashes flittered longer than they should have at the foreign warmth sat at his nape, before armin grew irritated at their obstruction of his view; your face, the closest it’d ever been to his, with its features firm at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. your fingernails would cease their gentle scratches on armin’s neck, and you’d let out a heavy sigh,

“nah, he's too busy fucking other girls to do that”, you commented, sarcastically. but that one comment would be all it took to clarify your intentions to armin, and the dismay that realisation birthed made his stomach turn.

“so this is your getback? fucking his childhood friend?”, he scoffed in disbelief, mixed with anger. the usually cheerful visage of the blonde boy disfigured into something that made you lower your head; his evident disappointment drowning you in shame.

armin could vividly remember the acidic stinging in his throat when the pretty girl at mikasa’s birthday party introduced herself as eren’s girlfriend. any glimpse he had caught of you, before that, had inspired paragraphs of rehearsed lines he had prepared to ask you on a date. but his best friend’s protective arm around your waist had sent all his preparations falling to his feet. but now, they were all resurfacing and ascending very quickly—leaving his skin blushed and blazing in their wake. the sudden increase in his blood flow all migrated to one place. and, for the first time in all the years he had known eren, armin’s loyalties dissipated and anything holding him back evaporated; leaving behind a desperate man with the only woman he wants right in front of him.

“i don't know if you're brazen, or just a slut”, he said quietly. that last word would surprise you more than it offended you. and, though your vision was zeroed in on the floor, armin could see a slight head tilt of confusion present itself. so he'd place two fingers under your chin, forcing you to face him,

“you're not a slut, are you baby?”, his eyebrows would furrow in feigned concern, as he mirrored your shaking head, “no~, you're not. you're just a very needy girl”, he'd say to you, laughing when your features scrunched in rejection of his statement. albeit far too late, the voice of reason in your head began contesting your previous decisions. the lascivious hands embracing your waist to pull you into the body of the man in front of you had you questioning every thought process that had gotten you to this point.

“the fuck are you doing?”, you asked, moving back. but the hands on your waist would move to the bottom of your spine, to bring you even closer to armin than you were before.

“you said you wanted to fuck, so we’re gonna go upstairs and fuck.”, he answered, kissing the exposed skin on your arms and shoulders. the salacious sounds resounding from just below your ear, mixed with the feel of his wet lips on your skin made you pulsate underneath your underwear, as you let out a deep breath.

it was obvious that your want for him was surface level; shallow, and just a reactionary course of action. but armin’s was the exact opposite. he could feel his affections for you buzzing throughout him; first growing aflame in his heart, before every pump of the muscle distributed them throughout his entire central nervous system. that funny feeling, he couldn’t quite ascertain, circulated throughout him—making his palms and fingertips fuzzy as they gently smoothed over your skin. the moment an explorative hand up your mini dress had discovered the wetness at the front of your underwear, armin had metamorphosed into anticipation incarnate; the thought of drowning himself in your arousal tightening his already taut boxers. yet, despite this, he peeled your dress off you at an agonising pace—practically pausing after every square inch to exhale, as he slowly stroked himself through his pyjama bottoms.

“fuck”, lowly slid out of his mouth. with the way he was acting, it was laughable to think this was the man who had called you ‘needy’ not too long ago. because armin was anguished in front of you.

“you good, arlet?”, you teasingly asked—the sweet taste of your gloss dancing on your tastebuds, as a portion of your bottom lip found itself sucked into your mouth. the rest caught the minimal light from the lamp on armin’s bedside table. cerulean orbs scrutinised the shimmer that wasn’t sandwiched between your teeth, his tongue simulating different variations of how your lips would taste. his hands would take on the responsibilities of his transfixed eyes; traversing your bare body, fingertips feather-light as they did so. and his busy hands left his hardened bulge far too lonely for your liking. so your hand would pay it company—stroking at it gently. and only then would armin’s eyes break away from you, quickly shutting before his head tilted to rest on his shoulder.

“shit.”

once his head raised again, armin’s eyes would be greeted by your provocative ones; coquettishly looking at him as if to taunt him. it was as if you knew of his thinning resolve, and how easily he’d yield to you. as if you knew one look would be all it took for him to lay you flat on your back, your legs elevated by his hands; his palms flat against your thighs, as his lips pecked the insides of them. and, unlike your boyfriend, armin took his time: he languidly made his way to your core, humming against the wet patch on your underwear as he kissed it. the thin barrier between the blonde and the consequences of his actions would be gently pushed aside, exposing your wetness to the gentle breeze blowing into the room through armin’s open window. the only solace provided to you was armin’s delicate lips moving to peck your bundle of nerves, before it was sucked into his mouth. it’d shortly be joined by his tongue; the muscle swirling around it as ungodly noises left both of your mouths. after a few moments, the fabric under his fingers would become annoying, so you’d be hazily lifting your hips so he could slide it off you, spreading your legs wide open as soon as he did.

admittedly, eren ate your pussy well but, for him, it was merely just a means to an end. but you were armin’s end. you were his beginning, as well as his ruin, and the reason why the heavens had given him tastebuds. the nth time his eyes explored their sockets that night would follow his tongue licking one strip from your hole to your clit, and that motion would be all it’d take for armin to taste liquid insanity. once he had, his sole objective became to ravish you and, judging by the cramping fingers he could see in his peripheral vision, he was succeeding. too busy arching, your lower back hadn’t touched the navy duvet since armin had laid you down on it. pleasure was storming its way through you; leaving behind, a light layer of sweat glazing your heated body, adhering you to the fabric beneath you. subconsciously, your hips would search for armin’s mouth and your hand ran through his hair to push him further down onto you. your legs would be clamping around his head, and he’d welcome it; happy to be smothered by your scent and the heat exuded by your blazing skin.

this wasn't about foreplay for armin. it most certainly wasn't about reciprocation and, with the way he was rubbing himself against the bed, you were starting to question if it was even about your pleasure anymore. a myriad of various daydreams his mind had thought up over the years meant that armin was in heaven in between your legs. every year, you and your friends rented out a beach house. and, after he had passed out on his bed half-drunk, armin had been rudely awoken by the muffled sounds coming from you and eren’s room. abashedly, it ended in him pulling his dick out and stroking himself until he had to bite his lip to hide the moans. he knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn’t just turn his ears off. so he had just laid there, listening intently. focused on every vocal fluctuation and different intonation of his best friend’s name, armin couldn’t help but imagine all the positions eren had to have put you in to make you sound like that. at that point, his dick was so hard that there was no way he could possibly go back to sleep. so he’d sat up, the back of his head against the wall, as he fucked into his hand. at the end of it, he’d been left with a wet hand and a soaked ego. but today he had you all over him, and armin had always been a messy eater, so it was no wonder he had you on his chin, cheeks, lips, nose, and anywhere else your wetness could reach.

“armin, i'm gonna cummm”, you cried, and armin’s ministrations slowed—his tongue moving slower against you. there’s nothing he wanted to hear more than you whining underneath him, and he got it. as well as your acrylics scratching at his scalp, and his arms. once you did finally cum, armin licked it all up with a smug smile.

any second armin spent with his dick in his boxers, instead of in you, was time frivolously wasted. so they, as well as his pyjama bottoms, would be landing somewhere on his floor very quickly. red with rage, and leaking, his tip flirted with your hole for a moment—collecting any arousal that hadn’t dripped onto the bedding beneath you and tapping the combination of that and his precum on your stomach and thighs. a sick part of him wanted his nut all over you, cloaking you so he could coerce his brain into thinking that you were his. even if it was just for the night. those fantasies distracted him from what was in front of him and once he’d come to, and taken a look at your face, he’d find that you were a mess. so his palm would meet your cheek gently, a fond smile plastered on his face once your eyes glimmered again.

“wake up for me, baby, i need you here for this”, he said, picking up your hand to kiss it. following this gesture, romanticism would seem to fizzle out; your face would soon be in armin’s pillow, while his hand carved out an arch in your back. missionary seemed too personal; intimate. wanton need was radiating off armin, and the last thing he needed was it being fuelled by the hazy fucked-out look in your eyes. because he could only imagine how he would’ve felt seeing the facial expression that accompanied that small whine that came out of your mouth when he slid his tip into you—the small action driving you to insanity already. impatience would push you further onto him, but armin’s smart wits would hold you before you got any further.

“what’s eren been doing to you for you to be this needy?”, he chuckled, kissing your shoulders. initially he pushed himself into you very slowly, giving the both of you time to adjust to each other.

the buried anger armin felt when he realised he was just a pawn in a lover’s spat would soon reappear and you'd feel every inch of it. it was vengeful and unforgiving in a way that stuck your drooling lips to the pillowcase. swallowed emotions flowed through him, concentrating themselves at the place your bodies met, as he slammed into you. discipline was a concept too far gone for the both of you, and all you had to go off of was unfiltered carnality weaving between your bodies. five of armin’s fingertips imprinted themselves into your hip, while the remaining five grappled to grab onto his headboard, after trusting you to maintain the deep arch in your back. helpless hands had been searching for a grip on reality, but they were denied every time,

“don’t tap out on me, y/n, you wanted this now i need you take it”, armin chided. yet your hands wouldn’t cease their search for solace and, in gross irony, they had knocked over the only framed picture armin kept in his room; an old image of him, eren, and their other friends. and, as if an act of orchestrated symbolism, it’d be ignored. the framed expression of their friendship would dramatically fall to the floor, while armin remained hyperfixated on your soft whines—melodic and far too quiet. he’d lean forward, but the only coherency you’d maintained allowed you to turn your head in embarrassment. obviously he’d make you face him, smirking when he saw the teeth marks below your lips,

“nobody’s home, so be as loud as you need, baby. we got too much money to have neighbours, ain't nobody hearing you but me”, he smirked, kissing your skin, and approvingly humming against it when your volume raised.

each time armin slammed into you, it displaced any sound thought—leaving behind a babbling mess and a mouth fighting to beg for something armin couldn’t comprehend.

“speak to me, baby. i need words”, he said onto your jaw. and, again, that forbidden aspect of ‘intimacy’ would push any thoughts of kissing you out of his mind. so he’d refrain, and distract his eyes with the white ring forming at the base of his dick.

“’m gonna cum, armin.”, is all you'd be able to get out, but it'd be all armin needed to move his hand down to rub at your clit. and the extending rubber band in your stomach would endure one more poke from armin’s dick before it snapped unceremoniously, robbing you of your vision. lightening knuckles and cramping fingers accompanied unrestrained moans of armin’s name. in your body’s attempt to get more of armin, it’d push you back and, in turn, force armin’s release out of him. he’d already been on a thinning rein, but it finally gave in at the feeling of you tightening around him.

“i'm gonna—ffffuck—you want it, baby? want my nut leaking outta you?”, he asked, eyebrows scrunched at both the feeling, and deep contemplation of which part of your body would be painted by his release. but, ultimately, his stuttering hips would make that decision for him. as well as your bold words.

“nut in me, armin, pleaseee”, you begged loudly, and armin would fulfil your wishes instantaneously.

for a good few minutes, all that was audible in armin’s bedroom was heavy breathing, neither of you said anything. it was as if you had somehow mutually agreed that expressing how you felt at that point was ghastly inappropriate. though you both knew, and you could feel all of armin’s emotions leaking out of you to slip down your leg, you just remained quiet. the only sound you’d make would be a hushed hiss caused by armin hastily pulling himself out of you. the hands holding you would also remove themselves, not even bothering to catch you when your arms gave out and you fell onto the pillowy surface beneath you. turning around felt physically impossible; how were you meant to face armin when the trajectory of your relationship had been altered for life? instead you’d just lay on your side, staring at the wall.

“don’t tell eren, okay?”, you said to armin once he came into your line of vision. knowingly, his head would be shaking as his hands busily rummaged through his bedside draw.

“of course i won’t”, he smiled at you, finally pulling out a tube from the draw before closing it again.

“the fuck is that?”, you sat yourself up.

“lube”, he answered, prompting you to look at him with confusion scrawled all over your face, “you got your getback for him cheating, but i haven’t got mine for being used”, he smirked.

#≡;- ꒰ °nanaminsmooninc.꒱#aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #aot armin #armin x black reader #armin x reader #armin aot #armin x y/n #armin arlert #armin smut #armin x black y/n #armin x you #armin attack on titan #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan x black reader #attack on titan

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beneathashadytree · 2 months

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LOOK AFTER YOU - XAVIER SHEN X READER

Warnings : mentions of injuries and anesthesia, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : sickening fluff <33

Word count : 1.2K words

Additional notes : This had been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and now it’s finally here!! Given how Xavier selectively chooses his missions and work, it makes sense that he’d feel more like a househusband than anything😭💗

Tip jar!

Masterlist

With dragging feet and a very noticeable limp, it took all they had to not just completely pass out halfway on the way home—still, they had to hold on. Just a few more minutes. They could handle that. Dr. Zayne had managed to patch them up well enough for them to stay conscious until they ended up on their doorstep.

Finally standing in front of their apartment, they lifted an aching arm to knock on the door—only to stumble forward as it swung open, their boyfriend’s face poking out from behind it. Already before they could speak, a small frown had formed on his face. “The hospital called just now. I didn’t know it was this bad.”

Xavier pushed the door open fully, reaching out for them with open arms that they—all too happily—slumped into. He could carry 10 times their weight if need be; they didn’t worry about him struggling to carry them inside in the least. “Thanks,” they mumbled against the wool of his sweater. Almost reflexively, they melted into his hold as they inhaled the scent of him clinging to the soft fabric: cinnamon, vanilla, and sunshine.

“Are you okay? In pain?” he worriedly asked as he heaved most of their weight and began to guide them to their bedroom.

At that, they snorted. “They gave me enough anesthesia to knock out a mule. I’m just trying to avoid putting pressure on the wounds, since I won’t be able to feel just how bad they are—“

“Until it wears off.” He nods in understanding, having been in their place more times than he could count. One hand left their back to push their bedroom door open and switch on the lights. “Then it’ll all hit you like a freight train.”

“Put nicely, yes. I would’ve said “hurt like a bitch,” personally.” A look of amusement danced on his face as he huffed out a laugh at that, kicking a few slippers out of the way so he could lean over the side of their bed. He lowered them to the bed as gently as possible, and they groaned out as their body sunk into mattress. “This feels like heaven now. Could you—?”

Before they could finish their request, Xavier had already nudged their fluffiest pillow underneath their head with one hand, while the other was pulling up their softest blanket up to their neck. “You’ll want to nap, of course,” he quietly said, brushing back a few sweat-slicked strands of hair away from their face and settling into his spot beside them on the bed.

“Just for a little. Mission was exhausting.” Sighing, they closed their eyes for a few moments, as though collecting their myriad of tangled thoughts regarding it, before blinking back up at him with a tired gaze. “Keep me company until I fall asleep?”

“Of course,” he quickly replied, crystalline eyes shining with the sort of fondness only they could alight within him. “Wanna tell me about your day?”

They shook their head, an apologetic half-smile on their lips. “It was shit. Nothing much to say about that. I’d rather hear about yours, though.”

A barely-there squeeze to their hand reminded them that it was fine. He’d always indulge them, after all, and if that entailed him talking about his certainly-in-comparison-boring day, he’d oblige.

And really, he’d once told them—in that solemn manner of his—that if they asked him to serve his heart on a silver platter, he’d gladly carve it out of his chest and welcome the gaping hollowness. How else would he carry it to them, still beating and yearning for them? Maybe when it fluttered in their palms it’ll bridge the chasm of space and time that he sometimes felt between them.

“I woke up at two, I think.” He looked a little embarrassed as he confessed, though it was nothing that surprised them. “I didn’t want to… ah, have another accident, so I stuck to ordering lunch for us both.” His spine straightened, as his eyes lit up in remembrance. “Oh, I got you salmon and potatoes. Is that ok?”

This time when they smiled, it almost seemed lovesick—or maybe they were growing drowsier by the second. “More than ok. How’d you know that I was craving it?”

“You tend to have eating patterns,” was all Xavier said, as though that were explanation enough. Maybe that truly were the case, or maybe the feeling of his knuckle brushing against their cheek was too soothing for them to question it. “It wasn’t too hard to notice.”

“Mmm. What else?”

Voice little more than a whisper now, they seemed to burrow into the covers even more. Just a few tufts of hair showed from the edge of the blanket, and Xavier had to resort to stroking the top of their hair now as he went on. “You probably didn’t get to notice it when we walked in, but I cleaned the entire house. Top to bottom, and I didn’t even have to pull out the vacuum.”

“Sounds like you’ve earned yourself some praise,” they slurred out, their chuckle sounding like it was distorted underwater, though it was only the effect of being filtered through sleepiness.

He hummed, a mischievous glint to his eyes. “Not to be too greedy, but I believe I do. Unless you happen to have any complaints about my cleaning skills?”

“I’ll be… the judge of… that.” To hear the last sentence, he had to really strain his ears, but it was all worth it.

When will the novelty wear off? When will he stop clinging to every single utterance of theirs; every soft sound and breath that escaped their lips? He feared he’d spend his entire lifetime clutching at every one and stowing it deep between his ribs. That greedy feeling of wanting to keep every fragile part of them to himself never went away, it seemed. And he supposed it never would.

“I guess I’ll have to aim for a 5-star review, then.” No response; just the sound of their even, deep breathing, and the shift of the Hunter’s outfit they still hadn’t taken off with every exhale. Xavier’s hand stilled its ministrations, and he carefully untangled it from their hair to set back in his lap.

For a few moments all he did was simply take the sight of them in. Soot-covered attire and perspiration-dotted face and all, he still thought they were the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on. Perhaps, they were even more striking in his opinion when they were so battle-weary.

Still, it can’t have been too comfortable, and he knew that the first thing they’d want to do after waking up—aside from taking pain medication, since the effects of the anesthesia would’ve long worn off by then—would be to shower. With an impossibly softened gaze, he leaned down to leave a fleeting kiss against their forehead, one that somehow still left his heart stuttering in his chest as they hummed and smiled in their sleep. Falling back to their side, he curled his warm palm around their hand that lied on the pillow, his mellow voice carrying his love in a whisper and on his frayed sleeves.

“Sweet dreams.”

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yandere-writer-momo · 10 months

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Yandere Baki Short Stories:

Moth Man

Pickle from Baki

An alternate universe in which Pickle is moth man! Kind of like a 1900s farm house vibe? A short horror short.

@thepastelspace and I had a discussion of mothman pickle and it just took off from there. So without further ado…

Moth man Pickle x Afab reader

…………………………………………………

Creak! Snap!

(Your name) shot up from her bed with a loud gasp. Her head darted towards the window in fright. What on earth was that sound?

She jumped up from the bed, her sheets discarded on the cold, wooden floor. The young woman flipping on the lamp beside her bed.

(Your name) hesitantly opened the window and peaked her head out. She didn’t see anything…

And that’s when she heard a commotion from her barn. The chickens clucks were as loud as screams.

She quickly snatched up her oil lantern and a shot gun. She hoped it wasn’t those damn coyotes again.

She slipped her slippers on her feet and threw a shawl over her white nightgown to try to shield herself from the chilly night air. The lace offered little protection from the elements but at least the wool shawl would keep her warm.

(Your name) swiftly made her way down the steps and put the door. Her lantern held ahead of her as her eyes wildly searched for what was had terrorized her chickens.

(Your name) kept the shot gun held close to her as she trembled. Ever since her Pa passed away, she had to take over as the ‘man’ of the ranch. And it was miserable being a lone woman who ran a farm alone.

She was always harassed by the local ranchers and stared at like a piece of meat. She always felt like a lamb ready for slaughter every time she went into town to sell her goods. (Your name) hated the fact that she was born a woman at times, but Pa said she was tough.

She was a tough young woman who could hold her own. She didn’t need a husband quite her and especially not one with lecherous eyes.

(Your name) continued her way towards her barn. Her blood running cold at the large trail of crimson that lead into the entrance to her barn. A few pieces of sheet metal were gone from her roof as well… what on earth could be big enough to ding up her barn like this?

(Your name) loaded the shot gun with a loud click, her hand steadying the lantern on the side of the gun. She swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly trudged forward.

And that’s when she saw it. A large eldritch feature covered in black fur sat hunched over, its large black wings were folded over its whole body. It was some sort of large moth…

(Your name) gulped and walked forward, her eyes wide when her foot crunched on a piece of wood. The sound alerted the creature that now sat up on its haunches.

Its head hit the rafters of her small barn as it towered over her helpless frame. A chirping noise escaped its lips, heavy footsteps heard as it moved towards her.

She fell back into the dirt in fright but held the shotgun firm in her hand. The cool metal brought her back down to earth as the creature stalked forward. The oil lamp revealed a monstrous face that was slightly human with blood red eyes. Two antennas flicked back and forth. The right one missing half of its length but it didn’t take away from the spectacle in front of her… this monster was proof that the supernatural existed…

The creature tilted its head off to the side at the sight of her. Another chirp spilled from its lips. What on earth was it? A moth? A man? A moth man?

She slowly lowered her gun as the creature admired the light from her lamp. The bullet wounds on it were now visible under the warm light. It was injured… no, he was injured.

(Your name) lowered the gun and pulled off her shawl. The creature tilted its head at her in curiosity, but it made no move to stop her. The creature froze when her hands brushed against its fluffy fur, its antennas now stood at attention.

“It’s okay…” (your name) whispered softly in hopes the creature understood her. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

She slowly wrapped the shawl around the moth man’s wounds to try to staunch the bleeding. She was fascinated that it bled red just like her…

(Your name) quickly turned her head away once she noticed she could see its privates… or more like his privates. Now she felt dirty and cold.

The creature turned his head as he watched her pick up the lamp. His big eyes followed the light in interest. It seemed that even though he was part man, he still had moth like tendencies.

(Your name) noticed the mason jars of pickles were broken open, the pickles missing. It’s seems her moth companion really liked pickles…

“Pickle. Your name is now Pickle.” Pickle happily chirped at her, his antennas flicked back and forth excitedly. (Your name) put her fingers up to her lips to hide her smile. It seems her companion was happy to have a name. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

(Your name) woke up to the feeling of something hot and fluffy beside her. Wait… fluffy?

The young woman shot up from the bed to see Pickle halfway draped over her body body. His fluffy face buried in her stomach while soft snores left his lips.

(Your name) looked at her bedroom window that was wide open, her curtains torn to shreds from her eldritch companion. It seems he wanted to be with her.

(Your name) ran her fingers through his black curls, Pickle now wide awake with starstruck eyes.

“Good morning-“ a squeak escaped his mouth, Pickle leaned forward to press his cheek against hers to nuzzle her. His chest vibrated with loud purrs. It seemed Pickle really liked her…

(Your name) giggled when his antennas and black fluff tickled her face. He was so soft…

After awhile of petting him, she rose up from the bed and began to get around to feed her chickens. She was an hour late for collecting eggs and feeding them so hopefully her broody hens wouldn’t be upset with her.

She made her way down the steps with Pickle in tow. The creature held onto the back of her shirt with affection, his red eyes admired her like she was a star. A light.

(Your name) made it to the barn with a smile, only for her face to go completely pale. All of her chickens were slaughtered… their bones, blood, and feather were mixed together in the glass remnants of the pickle jars…

She turned her head to look at Pickle who only flashed her a toothy grin. His sharp teeth telling her everything she needed to know… Pickle was a predator. A monster.

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chezzywezzy · 2 years

Text

Yandere Hush (1/4)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

When Y/n’s agent and accountant said that she earned a ‘snowy winter realness’ vacation, she agreed. But, as someone who spent most of her life in cities and hot climates, she hadn’t expected snow to be so inconvenient. She thought that, with how the cash flowed with her recent blockbuster films, Suzy would’ve raised the budget enough so that she wasn’t renting out a two-story cabin that was completely snowed in and barely had working electricity.

Her fingers clacked on the keyboard as she lazed on the comfortable couch. The place was cozy, so she’d give it that. Even though she was deemed a ‘celebrity,’ her standards weren’t that high; but, if she was expecting a ‘resort’ vacation as a treat for her hard work, she would’ve expected something more stable.

There was a small living room with two tinier sofas and one large. A table sat in the center and across from her was a television that Y/n had yet to make use of thanks to her computer and phone existing. There were several windows, ornate and flowery curtains open and displaying thesun, about to drop behind the trees at any moment.

From across the living room was a small kitchen. The refrigerator buzzed and it was a rather old-fashioned stove, contrasting to the modernity of the rest of the house. There were two exits to the large patio that was barren of furniture and had a thin layer of snow, one in the kitchen and a much larger one between it and the living room.

Behind the living room was a small guest bedroom that Y/n had yet to make use of. There was a winding staircase to the second floor, and there was one small bathroom next to the stairs. In reality, the second floor was the main attraction. The main bedroom was large, with several beanbag chairs and a large view to sit at. The bed was cushioned and warm and her suitcase, not yet unpacked, lay beside it. Down the hallway was another bathroom - equipped with a bath, this time -, and across from that, an office with bookshelves that were only half-occupied with books.

Sure, the place wasn’t the warmest, and Y/n didn’t like the weather or the bad wifi signal, but Suzy was right. Y/n was in need of some alone time. Apparently, the script she was working on - a drama loosely based on her own experiences - was worthwhile. And even though Suzy was always positive and encouraging, Y/n felt that her story was worth telling for all the little kids that were a mirror of what she once was.

Y/n was just finishing up an email with a potential director. It may have been vacation, but job opportunities were still lining up. Especially after her role in Doon, starring several S-tier celebrities. According to the news, Y/n ‘made it big time.’ It was as flattering as it was stressful.

She was about to finish up with,’ kind regards, from Y/n.’ But, just then, knocks sounded from the patio door. The door itself was sheer glass, which Y/n noted was rather dangerous, but Suzy said that it was the ‘specially reinforced’ kind.

She set the laptop on the coffee table. As she peered up, she was met with a middle-aged Mexican woman who’s thick black hair was just beginning to gray. Her face was wrinkled and she was quite short, barely over five feet. She was completely bundled up in winter clothes. In her grasp was a bag of peaches, and as Y/n approached the door, a friendly smile spread across her lips.

Y/n slid the door open. She shivered from the cold, only in a sweater and wool pajama bottoms. Her feet were bare since she abandoned the slippers and the cold weather nipped at her cheeks. She smiled back, although just the existence of another person made her weary and exhausted.

“Hello!” the woman greeted in a thick Spanish accent. “I heard from my husband that some new neighbors had moved in nearby. I came to meet you since this place hasn’t been used in a few months at least. I’m Alondra!”

“Hi,” she answered, relieved that she wasn’t instantly recognizable. “It’s nice to meet you, but I’m only taking a couple weeks here for a vacation. I’m Y/n. Why don’t you step inside? It’s quite chilly outside.”

Alondra pursed her lips and shook her head. For someone so old, she certainly did have a lot of energy. She insisted,” I was just dropping these off as a welcome gift. I hope you enjoy. I’ve had a real kick from trying out this fruits-only diet. To put it bluntly, fruit helps you shit.”

“Does it now?”

“Yes, yes! I would recommend, but you look incredibly healthy. Such a spry young woman,” she complimented. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? Are you sure you aren’t a local?”

Y/n chuckled. “You probably recognize me from television. People have dubbed me a celebrity, is all.”

“Oh, wow! That’s quite interesting.” She paused, rubbing her gloved hands to her face. “It must be so lonely out here all alone. And with all the snow, you can’t do much, eh? Come over for dinner tomorrow. You can meet my husband and son. He’s down for the holiday.”

“Are you sure?” she paused, wracking her brain. The woman was nice. The wariness had dissipated with ease. “I would hate to impose.”

“Not at all! Maybe my son knows you. You know, you youngsters really love famous people these days. More than my generation ever did, at least. Then again, the famous women these days are so much prettier!”

Y/n adjusted her wait, curling her toes underneath her foot. She took the peaches from the woman gratefully, and with an eased smile, answered,” Then sure. I’d love to join. What time?”

“Seven o’ clock. My son’s finally old enough to join us adults for happy hour, too. He’s twenty.”

The celebrity blinked and chuckled, nodding along. “I’ll be there. Stay warm, alright?”

“You too! Especially with the blizzard that’s coming in tonight. Hopefully this old place has a generator. Otherwise, you might just freeze to death.”

Y/n was caught off guard from the rather dismal topic, but just like that, the woman was off. She waved over her shoulder, trudging down the patio steps, and headed right. Y/n watched her go after shutting the door, reveling in the warm atmosphere after two minutes too long.

The woman disappeared down the snow-covered road. She gulped, thoughts returning to the oncoming blizzard. She was starting to think that Suzy didn’t know what she was talking about when she said this would be relaxing. She set the peaches on the counter, and as she peered out the window once more, she noticed how the snow had a pinkish tint from the setting sun.

Y/n made her way over to the fridge. She opened it, grabbing some beef and pasta. As she hummed, deciding to make a basic spaghetti dish for dinner, she removed her phone from her back pocket and set it on the nearby counter. She began preparing the food with ease, dazing off into space as she watched the meat cook and the pasta boil.

Just as she was stirring the meat around, her phone started buzzing from her ringtone. She reached over, not abandoning her spot, and opened it. Suzy was calling. Y/n decided that her worries weren’t worth mentioning since Suzy worked just as hard, although she was currently on a vacation to Hawaii with her wife.

She pressed answer and put it on speaker. Immediately, though, she regretted it, as the woman boomed,” Y/n! Great to see you picked up. How’s the vacation treating you? Is it ‘the dream’?”

Y/n cringed and turned down the volume. Her ears buzzed from the sheer sound of Suzy. She was a quick and loud talker, and it was generally part of her charm. Just not over the phone. She paused her lips, answering,” It’s quite isolated. I’m fond of it, although it’s rather chilly and shut in. How’s paradise?”

“Perfect, perfect, but I’m not here to talk about me,” she insisted energetically. “I came to tell you to bundle up tonight. A blizzard’s passing through tonight. You’ll definitely be snowed in. And the forecast says it’ll probably reach under ten below.”

Y/n shuddered at the thought, sighing,” Yes, I’ve heard. If I freeze to death tonight, make sure it’s written on my tombstone ‘death by thoughtful accountant’.”

“Heh, I was hoping you’d get to have more fun than that,” she huffed. “I mean, there’s a ski resort not even fifty miles away. And a frozen lake perfect for ice skating a few miles down the road! I probably should’ve checked the weather report before I decided on the place, huh?”

Everything was done cooking, so Y/n turned off the various knobs, letting the boiling water calm itself. She leaned against the nearby counter, replying,” It’s no problem. It’ll be a new experience good for storytelling once I’ve recovered from hypothermia in the hospital.”

Suzy sighed exasperatedly. “Just call me in the morning, ‘kay? We don’t need America’s sweetheart freezing over.”

Y/n hummed,” Yes, yes, I’m sure. Listen, my dinner’s done cooking and I need both my hands to plate it. Have a nice time, Suzy.”

“You too, Y/n! Good luck surviving.”

Suzy hung up in record speed, leaving Y/n to sigh and shove her phone back into her pocket. Her toes tingled in anticipation of how she’d be very uncomfortable that night. But, for now, she had a delicious meal to consume and would maybe settle down with some good ol’ American television.

For the next half hour, Y/n ate, watching a rerun of some stereotypical telenovela. She recalled getting some mock scripts from a few when auditioning, the series or movie not yet letting in on what her character was meant to be. After a while, she was invested in the drama of characters who’s names she didn’t know and never would remember. An hour or so later, she was completely decompressed and wanted nothing but a hot shower before hitting the hay.

She set her phone onto the coffee table. Her feet slid into her fuzzy bunny-rabbit slippers as she went upstairs. She grabbed a towel and waited for the hot water to turn on. While doing so, she brushed her hair out of the way and took out her hearing aids, setting them on a shelf for the time being. She would just be a few minutes, after all.

Y/n stepped into the steaming shower. The hot water almost burned her skin since she wasn’t used to it. Slowly, she was, though. She ran her fingers through her hair and washed it carefully. She reveled in the hot water. She tried to squeeze her entire body under the waterfall, as any inch that wasn’t was wrought with chills.

The hearing aids were left abandoned on the shelf. The bathroom was filled with the noise of running water and the snow beginning to pick up outside, white flakes crashing into the bathroom window to Y/n’s side. But, most prominent of all, were the howling shrieks of the middle-aged woman who was desperately banging against the patio door.

Y/n stepped out of the shower, wrapping the fluffy blanket around her body. For a while, she just stood there in thought. She was often grateful for the ability to turn off the sounds around her. Life was frustrating and loud. Being almost completely deaf had its risks, but she tried her best to be safe.

Alondra had a stab wound, crying for Y/n to answer the door. She was barely clothed, only adorning her husband’s sweatshirt and jeans. Her socks were soaked and her feet might as well have been bare. Her skin had paled, but it was hard to tell in the moonlight. Her front half was stained in blood, and not just her own. Her own child had been brutally murdered on her doorstep, only after a few minutes of the electricity shutting off.

However, she sustained a stab wound in her hip. She doubted she had lost the masked assailant, but she’d somehow escaped him while dashing through the cold. She was absolutely trapped, and her only chance was alerting the new neighbor. She had electricity. She had wifi. She had weapons.

Alondra kept banging on the glass. “Y/n! Y/n, help me, please! Y/n, are you in there?”

She paused, trying to open the door for the umpteenth time. It was locked. It had been a minute ago, and it was now. Alondra was consumed by her despair, peering over her shoulder into the dark fuzz. The white snowflakes, of which were slowly being riled up further and further, cascaded her vision. She could see but six feet away from her, the rest blocked by a white wall. Her entire body was trembling from the cold, and she was beginning to realize she would either freeze or stabbed to death.

She let out a frustrated cry. Alondra was utterly terrified. The wind was howling so very loudly. So much so, that she couldn’t detect the unrevealed figure behind her.

Only when an arrow stabbed into her back did she realize. She screamed in fright, collapsing agains the glass. The man, instead of reloading, stalked forward. Alondra shrieked once more, swerving to face the killer. She recognized them immediately as the asshole who killed her son, and she attempted to dart down to the kitchen door.

The killer chuckled lowly, although it was lost in the wind. He threw the crossbow over his shoulder, allowing it to reside against his back. Instead, from his wooly winter jacket, he withdrew a long blade. The woman bashed on the glass and pulled at the handle, but it yielded no results.

The man grabbed the arrow in her shoulder, withdrawing it in one fell swipe. The woman cried in agony, collapsing to her knees. Her vision was beginning to blur, but she kept banging on the door, praying that the young resident would come to rescue or at least be alerted of the attacker’s presence.

The man kicked her shoulder, forcing her to the ground in an unnatural position.

The man wasted no time, descending the knife into her eye. Blood squirted against the mask, and the man only cackled quietly in glee. The woman’s screams fell silent and maroon stained her skin. Her chest eventually stopped heaving and the snowflakes fell against her skin, melting into the open wound.

The man was quick to pocket the knife. With what strength he retained, he hoisted the woman up and began down the patio steps. He peered right and left, but it was hard to see with the blizzard. Instead, he decided on tucking the corpse underneath the steps to rot.

He slowly walked back up the stairs. He tried at the kitchen door, but it was locked. He thought that the woman was simply delusional, but Y/n was smart. She wouldn’t just leave the doors open for any unsuspecting strangers like Alondra to doddle right in.

He withdrew from his pocket a lock pick. It was tiny and peculiar, but the man had acquired practice over the years of preparation. The door slid open with ease not even a minute later, but once he did so, he paused. His breath caught in his throat in awe as he heard the shower running from upstairs.

And then, the water stopped.

Y/n, after a few minutes of sitting in a daze, decided to get dressed again after taking but a glance at the window. It would’ve been pitch black outside, if not for the flakes of snow that hit the pane. She shivers in distaste and, as the final step, put on her hearing aids again.

Her hair was still soaked, but she usually allowed it to hair dry. It always ended up frizzy otherwise, and the electricity could go out at any moment. The house was completely silent, except for the weather outside drilling into the walls and windows.

She glanced around the coffee table. Her phone wasn’t there. She sat up and moved the couch pillows around. It wasn’t there, either. She hopped to her feet and went to the kitchen. She scanned the counters, and thinking that it might’ve been upstairs somehow, she went to turn back.

But then she noticed.

The kitchen door was ever-so slightly cracked open. A pile of snow was already piling up and melting on the floor. But, most concerning, was the smeared blood seemingly drawn on the glass by a single finger. There was a splatter, not any more than a few feet above the writing, of even more blood.

Y/n’s heart picked up. She took but a moment to scan the messy handwriting.

‘Hi :) I’m a big fan <3’

Just as her eyes widened, the lights above her suddenly shut off. The house was left shrouded in darkness, and nothing terrified her further. A squeal escaped her lips as she dashed forward and shut the door with a loud slam. She clicked the lock, and as she did so, a gloved hand suddenly grasped at the handle from around the corner.

Y/n screamed at the top of her lungs. She stumbled back, and the hand removed itself, only to reveal a figure. They were suited up in winter garb, but most memorable, was the emotionless white mask. The head tilted, and only then did Y/n notice the crossbow barely peeking over his shoulder. It was dark outside, but her eyes had adjusted.

It was impossible to not see them.

The figure tilted his head. He gives a curt wave before pointing toward the door. He had the gall to ask to be allowed in, despite how terrifying the circumstances was. When he realized he yielded no results, he tugged on the door handle animatedly. He withdrew from his pocket a small screwdriver.

Tears sprouted to her eyes as she hugged herself tightly. Through gritted teeth, she shouted,” Please, don’t do this! I - if you leave now, I won’t tell anyone! I haven’t even seen your face!”

The killer paused, clearly having heard this. Y/n was on the verge of a mental breakdown. She was completely and utterly fucked. The man had gotten in once and he could get in again. She didn’t have time to suit up and run. Hell, she didn’t even know where to run. And that blood had come from a living person.

She dreaded to think that it was the sweet neighbor from earlier.

The man’s free hand went to his face. Slowly, ever so menacingly, he removed it. As he pulled it over his forehead, the band encircling the back of his head snapped up. With the mask discarded, his face was visible. The mask thudded to the soft layer of snow, abandoned and forgotten.

The man’s eyes bore into Y/n. A grin tugged at his face and there was such a glaze over his eyes that Y/n couldn’t quite identify. She shrunk back even further, analyzing every detail she could. He wasn’t the type of man you’d see across the street and think took up a hobby of slaughtering people. He looked so normal. And that was even scarier than any macho man that could’ve been revealed. He had slight fuzz across his jawline and a developing mustache. He seemed to have dirty blonde hair and had an oval face. Blue eyes, pale skin, thin eyebrows and average lips.

He was just a guy.

Sending a mischievous smirk, he crouched down. He dipped his gloved finger into the splatter of blood above, still wet and sullied from the on-pour of melted snowflakes. With one fell swoop, he took a large glob. He then began tracing letters right above the original writing.

He wrote backwards so flawlessly. It made Y/n petrified to think he’d done this cat-and-mouse routine with many other people. Y/n knew this was her time to run, to gain some distance. To figure out a game plan. But, instead, she watched as he traced letter after letter.

And then, his gaze flickered back up to the woman, his focus broken. His finger withdrew ever so slowly, and his grip on the lock pick was hard as steel. He tilted his head so innocently, a smile tugging at his lips.

Y/n scanned the words.

‘Now you have.’

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere x reader #yandere slashers #hush 2016 #yandere oneshot #yandere horror #hush x reader #yandere hush #yandere stalking #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher x y/n

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feltandyarn · 2 years

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Treat Your Feet: 6 Reasons Why You Should Own Felted Shoes

Did you know humans on average take eight to ten thousand steps? Add that with around 250,000 sweat glands in your feet, it produces lots of sweat in a day. Therefore, you need to take care of them more often.

Our felted shoes are the perfect way to take care of your feet. But how is that? Well, the breathability and softness of the felted shoes make the best for your feet.

The felted shoes are made of natural wool that is anti-microbial which means it prevents bacteria from spreading. Along with the moisture-absorbing ability that we stated in the previous point, felted shoes help to keep your feet dry and reduce odor.

Also, wool is hypoallergenic meaning it is unlikely to cause any allergic reaction. And made with high-quality wool that has the finest wool fiber, your feet are sure to love our felted shoes.

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thefreelanceangel · 2 months

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Her ear rang.

No matter how she pressed it or massaged it, despite the pain manipulating it caused, her ear rang.

When she took her hand away, the ear hung limp against her hair. She'd felt the cartilage delicately, found the crack, pushed it and locked her jaw against the urge to scream.

Now she just sat with her head resting against her hand, feeling rainwater soak through the heavy coat she'd stolen.

Wet stone leeched the heat from the thin slippers she'd found beneath the clinic bed, numbed her bare ass despite the fold of wet black wool she sat on.

She'd tried to move her tail, to flick it as usual, and stopped that foolishness immediately. A cracked vertebrae bound to be the most likely culprit and she knew immobility and time would mend that. Enough bandages covered her; she could use one to bind her tail.

The fur would grow back, most likely.

All of the scrapes, the slowly darkening bruises, the burn covering half of her back... They would heal. Had, in fact, to a large degree. She didn't know the clinic that she'd woken up in, but they clearly had an aetherical healer on call.

And she had a kami or something looking out for her.

C'allie knew.

She shouldn't have survived that explosion.

Perhaps the most frustrating thing to her was how this particular situation hamstrung her. Not just physically. The injuries hurt, but surely the damage wasn't permanent.

Her left hand shifted, touched her limp hanging ear, and then returned to running through her chaotic hair.

She couldn't go home. She couldn't even tell her partners or her family about this.

Not if it was Roronji.

And from what she remembered seeing... The whole reason she'd snuck onto that ship in the first place...

"...fuck."

#C'allie Kyho #FFXIV #Screenshots #IC Moments #Catte House

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unexpectedstormy · 3 months

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My grandmother is getting rid of some of her sewing stuff and there were some interesting items in the bag:

Various notions. One of the buttons is actually mother of pearl (made of seashell). The beetles are iron-ons.

Bias tape, iron on hemming tape (what a great idea!), velcro strips and zippers.

An excessive quantity of rick rack (this isn't all of it) (What is this stuff even used for?)

A single homemade pink slipper. It fits me.

Ribbons and lace and string oh my

Patterns for some horrifying jungle-themed stuffed animals ripped out of a family circus magazine (undated)

Iron on patches. I will be keeping all of them. These things are worth their weight in gold. Extremely useful for repairing clothes and backpacks.

A bag of hair. It's real hair, probably animal. Very soft. Possibly cat hair or a very fine wool. I have no idea what this was going to be used for.

Some fabrics and felt

Various doll and Barbie clothes patterns. Years of copyright left to right, top to bottom: 1992, 1994, 1988, 1997, 1970, and 1969.

Cabbage Patch Doll clothes book from 1984 (are Cabbage Patch Kids still a thing?)

A sewing tips and tricks booklet from 1956 that cost 5 cents, a sewing pattern for childrens' t-shirts from 1967 (my dad wasn't even born yet) that cost $1, and a 49 cent pack of tracing paper from--get this--1950. That tracing paper is 74 years old and it still looks great. I don't know how old my grandma was in 1950 but she would have been quite young. It could have been my great-grandmother's tracing paper.

@nancyheart11 this might interest you.

#stormy's life #retro sewing supplies #one of these things I did not see coming

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whoahoney · 2 years

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glassy eyes, hazy afternoons // pt 2

Eddie Munson x anxious!stoner!Reader

part 1

Summary: Reader goes exploring Hawkins with her brother and makes more unexpected friends, leading her to attend a live music show at the Hideout.

Content Warnings: fem!reader, reader has an older brother, use of y/n, minor descriptions of anxiety, recreational use of drugs, use of cigarettes, alcohol consumption, adult language, adult content (minors DNI!), fluff, mutual pining.

Authors Note: AHHHHH PT 2!!! She’s lengthy but she’s good honest work. I love writing Eddie Munson, what a pleasure he is to work with, as I’m sure anyone else would agree. Anyway, please enjoy this heart-warming and flirty installment of the series.

Autumn in Hawkins looked straight out of the beautiful beginnings of a scary movie—the turning leaves of the maple trees standing out through the light fog that spread through the town like a blanket.

Windows were blurred with humidity and had condensation running down the panes like tears. When Y/n woke up that morning, she could feel the cool damp air clinging to her skin, and her nose was red with a chill. Her eyes darted over to the window next to her bed, realizing she had left it open a few inches overnight. The windowsill was wet with morning dew, as was her glass bottle green ashtray.

Before shoving the window closed, she dumped the remnants of her nightly smoke outside into the flower bed. She dusted off her hands and stood up from her bed, thinking about her plans for her lazy Saturday morning. Y/n searched for her coziest sweater and sweatpants, completed with some warm wool socks.

The aroma of eggs and toast wafted through the house. Johnny worked most Saturdays since they’d been in Hawkins, having to put their regular Saturday morning breakfasts on hold. It hadn’t felt right to carry the tradition without Sam’s presence, anyway.

Y/n shuffled down the hallway, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she made her way to the eat-in kitchen. “Hey pops,” she said before looking to the stove where she expected to see her dad in his favorite slippers and plaid pajamas, but the figure holding the skillet wasn’t her father.

“Hey there, kiddo!” Sam imitated their fathers gravely morning voice from the years of smoking cigarettes.

“SAMMY!” She shouted in surprise, now fully awake. Y/n dashed over to his open arms to give him a tight squeeze. Sam’s chest shook with laughter at his sister’s excitement.

“Miss me?” He quipped, knowing full well how much his sister had missed him, because he missed her just as much.

“Not a bit.” She said with a smile as she pulled away to look him in the eye.

Sam scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning back to the stove to flip an egg over easy—the way their dad likes them.

Y/n leaned on the counter next to Sam to swipe some toast from the stacked plate, then moved to the fridge for some butter and orange juice.

“When did you get here??” She asked looking over the top of the fridge door. Sam moved their plates to the table and plopped down in the creaky chair.

“Late last night, the old man doesn’t even know I’m here yet.” Sam said, rubbing his hands together like a villain with an evil plan at work. Y/n chuckled, setting down the butter dish and carton then grabbed some silverware and glasses for everyone.

They easily fell back in routine together, as if they never parted. Back in the day when Sam was 7 and Y/n was 5, people confused them for twins more often than not, because you rarely saw one without the other.

Sam had kept up with weekly phone calls back home while he was away, and even wrote twice, but of course it wasn’t the same.

Every Wednesday evening since Sam had been away, Johnny and Y/n would sit on the sofa with the phone in between them to talk to Sam for an hour or so. Sam would tell them about the interesting things he’d learned in class and the fun places to eat and “socialize”.

Of course, the weekly phone calls were nice, but with their dad being on the phone, Sam never got to tell her the real juicy stuff about college he’d been dying to experience.

It was no secret that Sam was wild, he was the life of almost every party, even Johnny knew his son was a little feral. But something else everyone knew about Sam was that he was genuinely a good boy through and through.

Sam always seemed to know what to say to people, whether it’s to break the ice, or stop a fight, Y/n had yet to see a situation Sam couldn’t ease.

“He typically works Saturdays, but this is his off day, so he should be up any minute now.”

Sam sipped his orange juice and raised his eyebrows. Before quickly setting the glass down. “Should we scare him?” He asks mischievously.

Crunching on her overdone toast, Y/n cranes her neck to see down the hallway, noticing her father’s door was cracked, and light peered through, confirming he was awake.

She nodded vigorously, both of them scooting out of their chairs hurriedly to find the perfect hiding spot.

“Where can I even fit??” Sam hissed, referring to his tall stature.

“The pantry!” Y/n quickly suggests.

She opens the door and hurriedly shoves Sam inside, the clumsy boy knocking over a stack of canned peas.

As she’s quietly closing the door behind him, Y/n hears the familiar creak of her dad’s door opening.

She sat down at the table, nervously eyeing Sam’s half-finished plate of runny eggs and toast, hoping it wouldn’t ruin the surprise.

Johnny made his way around the corner, sleep still lingering in his eyes. His greying hair, normally kept very tidy, was flat on one side where he slept. His warm moccasins shuffled against the floor as he approached his daughter, giving her a gentle head pat.

“Mornin’, darlin’” he mumbled while suppressing a yawn. “Awful nice of you to cook our breakfast, did you have a chance to put on some coffee?” He asked, moving Sam’s plate over to another space without any thought.

Y/n stifled a chuckle before speaking louder than normal. “Oh, no, I didn’t, but I think there’s some in the pantry.”

Johnny nodded and shuffled on over to the corner of the room where the closet was. As soon as he turned the knob, Sam popped out with a, “MORNIN’ DAD!” holding the coffee can out to him.

Their fathers’ light eyes shot open like Y/n’s had at the surprise visit. “WHAT THE HELL—Sam! What are you doing in there, boy??” Johnny laughed as he pulled his son down to him for a hug and fond pat on the back.

“Why didn’t you tell us on the phone you were coming? We could’ve had the spare room done up for you!” He rambled, overwhelmed with happiness to have both of his kids under the same roof for the first time in a month.

“Where’s the fun in that? I decided on Thursday I’d come down for the weekend, especially since I wanted to hear allll about sister’s first week.” Sam said, reaching over to ruffle Y/n’s hair while she swatted at him.

“Well, I can assure you; it hasn’t been nearly as eventful as your month at college.” She finished with a sip of her orange juice. Sam rolled his eyes at his sister’s inability to talk about herself.

“I’ll be the judge of that later, but for now you need to get ready.” He said expectantly, biting into his toast.

Johnny quietly fixed his plate by the stove and grabbed his ceramic mug to move to his seat at the table.

“For what?” Y/n questioned, an uncertain tone to her voice. Sam finished the rest of his eggs, using the toast to soak up the rest of the runny egg yolk, making Y/n want to hurl.

“Could you not do that next to me, that’s disgusting.” She wrinkled her nose at him as he chewed obnoxiously. “Try before you deny, sis, you can’t say anything is gross without trying it first.”

“I have eaten enough eggs next to you to know that the runny yokes are not for me.”

She stood and cleared the rest of her plate into the garbage and rinsed it before placing it in the sink. “Enough about the eggs alright, just go get some clothes on and show me around this place.” Sam suggested.

“Why do we have to go out?” She asked.

“Aw, c’mon, let’s explore! I know you haven’t been out and around yet, so let’s do it together!”

Johnny looked over the top of his morning paper, to contribute a “He’s right, you know,”

Y/n shot her dad a look of betrayal. “What? I think it’s a great idea for you to get to know the town together, you weren’t gonna go out on your own, were you?” Their dad asked with a knowing look.

Y/n rolled her eyes and turned around without another word. She shuffled to the doorway, shoulder checking her brother as she passed.

Y/n stopped and turned at the frame and leaned against it momentarily. “…can I pick the music?” She said quietly.

“The bronco is ready to roll whenever you are.” He answered—shoulder checking her, like she did him, on his way to retrieve his bag from the living room.

After Y/n found a more ‘suitable’ outfit, she met Sam in the living room—both of them fixing their belts around their waists.

“All set?” He asked.

Y/n nodded, holding up her bag as evidence.

“Bye, dad.”

“See ya, pops!” They said rushing out the door, the screen door swinging shut behind them as their dad waved a slice of toast in ‘farewell’.

Y/n never thought she’d be so happy to see the bronco, she couldn’t wait to feel the familiar velvet seats under her touch.

Sam unlocked his door first, almost diving across the cab to unlock the passenger side. Y/n placed her bag between them as they slammed their doors shut.

As Sam turned the ignition, Y/n searched through her tapes for their favorite tape by The Smiths.

She loaded it into the tape deck, What Difference Does It Make starts while he backs out of the drive carefully.

“Okay, tell me EVERYTHING.” He said with wide eyes and an eager smile. “About what?” She asked, purposely being difficult.

“AbOuT wHaT? You know what,” he took the opportunity to shove her shoulder. “School! How’s it hanging?? Make any friends? Did you join a club?”

“Well actually...” she started with a smirk

Sam screeched with glee and drummed the steering wheel in anticipation. “Aghhhh!!! I knew there’d be something to tell! “

Y/n laughed at her brother’s dramatics. “Shut up, so I can tell you!”

Sam nodded, bringing a hand to his mouth to literally ‘wipe the look off his face’ and put it back down on the wheel.

“So, the first few days were pretty unremarkable, my classes are okay, but math still sucks. Anyway, yesterday I took it upon myself to track down some bud here, and while it was a trialing journey, I met a few friends along the way.” She said as she dramatically brought a hand to her heart.

“Do tell!” Sam urged with his eager eyes glued to the road, just coasting around the streets downtown to scope out their options.

“In biology, I made friends with, wait for it, the head cheerleader, she was so nice and even invited me to her boyfriend’s party coming up, but I doubt I go just yet.”

Sam nodded thoughtfully, probably already seeing her point of view on the party matter.

“Since she knows everything about everyone, I asked her who I should buy from and she told me about this guy, Eddie Munson.” Her eyes turned a little dreamy as his name came from her lips.

“Ooh, Eddie Munson,” Sam wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes away from her brother.

“What, I said his name, that doesn’t mean anything!”

“You didn’t even tell me your cheerleader friend’s name, not to mention the heart eyes. But, please, continue the story and prove me wrong.” He said smugly.

Y/n scoffed in shock, not expecting to be called out so severely, and so soon. She took a breath to prepare for the gloating that comes when her brother has found out he’s right about something. Which is irritatingly more often than not.

“Well, anyway, I’ll come back to him later, I gotta tell you about the hit I took in between classes—”

“You WHAT?” Sam slammed on his breaks at the stop sign, thankfully no one was behind them. “Jesus CHRIST, Samuel, what the FUCK?” Y/n exclaimed after being jerked forward.

“Did someone hit you? Did you hit someone??” He asked alarmed yet intrigued.

“Relax, there was a fight next to my locker and I was collateral damage. The hit didn’t hurt like the fall probably would have, but this freshman, Mike, caught me. Turns out, he’s in the same club as Eddie. So, he and his friends were able to pass a note I wrote to him, and I ended up meeting him in the woods behind the football field.”

“That totally doesn’t sound sketchy as shit at all.” Sam said with sarcasm with his head on a swivel, spotting a movie rental store coming up on their left.

“Anyway, I bought a half ounce from the guy, then we hung out and smoked for a while, and it was… really cool.” She finished with a subtle smile, trying to downplay her feelings a touch.

As Sam parked in front of the Hawkin’s Family Video, he burst out laughing. Y/n stared at him in annoyance as he tried to speak through the giggles.

Sam tried to imitate Y/n’s voice by speaking slightly higher pitched and dragging out his words airily and dramatically, “then we hung out for a while, and it was… reallly cooool.” He sighed dreamily out the window.

“Okay, so what, he’s CUTE, SUE ME!” She rolled her eyes, opening her door. “Now drop it, everyone knows everyone here, and I’d rather not have the whole town know about my fleeting teen crushes.” She mumbled as they met on the sidewalk.

Sam pulled open the door, and a bell sounded through the store. “You wanna take that side, and I check over here?” He asked as he eased over to the far side of the gallery.

Y/n nodded, and Sam turned all the way around to start his search for the perfect film. Her eyes scanned her side of the room, taking in the rom/coms to her right. She kept her eyes on the displays, looking for something familiar first.

The Family Video was empty and quiet with the exception of the radio for background music, and the shuffling of what Y/n assumed to be tapes coming from the back.

“We’ll be with you in just a moment!” She heard a friendly voice call from behind the cracked ‘employees only’ door.

Neither Sam nor Y/n responded, just continued to browse the store in silence until two people emerged from the back.

“Welcome to Family Video, is there anything I can help you with?” A girl asked, suddenly appearing next to Y/n, making her jump.

“Oh, uh, I’m not looking for anything particular, but I’m open to suggestions if you have any.” Y/n said to the girl with the name tag reading ‘Robin’

“You’re new, right?” Robin asked with quiet curiosity. Y/n nodded slightly, keeping her eyes forward as she felt the familiar tightness in her chest.

“I’m Robin, we have algebra together, I think.” She said even though she knew for a fact they shared the class.

Y/n allowed herself to meet Robins eyes this time, and when she did, she felt the tension in her chest fade. Something about Robin was very comforting, there was a certain quality about her being that told Y/n she shouldn’t have to be so anxious for this interaction.

“I’m Y/n L/n,” she said, reaching a hand out for a proper shake. Their rings clanked together when they clasped, and they shared a chuckle. “Well Y/n, recommendations are the main reason I chose to work at a movie store, follow me!” Robin said enthusiastically.

Robin skittered across the store to the side Sam was currently occupying with another store employee.

“Wait a minute, so you’re telling me that you’re a college man and you haven’t seen the Breakfast Club yet?” The guy said with genuine surprise, and maybe a little offense.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying! What am I missing from another teen flick starring Estevez and Ringwald? Absolutely nothing.” Sam concluded with a teasing shrug.

Y/n had seen Sam look at a guy the way he did presently, but only with his friend Derek.

Sam and Derek were really close throughout high school. They were both popular upperclassmen, ran in the same circles, and played soccer together. That’s how they met freshman year— during tryouts.

Derek spent a lot of time at their house, lots of times the boys would camp out on the couches for the weekend and run around town together, always inviting Y/n along.

Sam was really sad when Derek’s dad insisted he pursued sports at Yale, instead of letting Derek apply at Bloomington with Sam like he wanted to.

Y/n didn’t hear about Derek for a long time after that, and didn’t want to ask about him and hurt Sam. She’d never been close enough with anyone to know what it’s like to lose a friend. Let alone a best friend.

But Sam had this special glint in his eye reserved for charming people out of their wits, and it seemed as though he had it on max while talking to this guy.

“Ugh, excuse him, he tries to pitch The Breakfast Club to anyone looking for a recommendation.” Robin rolled her eyes over the top of the shelf in front of Y/n.

“No no no no no, it’s not just another teen flick, man, you gotta give it a shot! Don’t you think a message about the dangers of societal pressure is important? And different??” The guy with the tag reading ‘Steve’ urges with conviction. Sam finds it very cute amusing and gives a chuckle.

“C’mon, if it sucks, I’ll pay you the money back you spend on renting it.” He offered with a nudge to Sam’s elbow on his way past, heading behind the counter.

Y/n looks at Sam with raised brows and surprise lining her eyes. Sam grins smugly and returns the look to her with sarcasm as he follows Steve up to the counter, accepting his offer.

Robin comes around the corner to show Y/n two picks: The Apartment and Child of Paradise.

“I know what you’re thinking, ‘I’d prefer something from this decade’ right? Well hear me out, both of these, while ancient—showcase the complexities and moral ambiguities in love and life, you know what I mean? If you totally hate it, I can definitely help you find someth—“

“No, no, no—I’ll take both.” Y/n said, knowing she’d watch them at some point in her free time, also knowing she couldn’t bear to disappoint Robin after she passionately pleaded her case for her film choices.

Robin’s eyes lit up and eagerly turned on her heel to add the two films to their purchase. Y/n approached the counter and stood next to Sam as Steve scanned the movies and Robin bagged them up.

Sam backed up slightly to peruse the snacks displayed below the countertop, innocently asked his sister, “See anything you like?”

Y/n looked at Sam to nod, knowing full well she only ate m&ms. So, wordlessly, he picks them up for her when he grabs his starbursts. “So cute.” Robin scoffed, shaking her head as Steve nodded in agreement.

“Got anything interesting going on tonight or is it just a cozy night in?” Steve said expectantly. Y/n furrowed her brow in confusion while Sam did his best to stifle a cackle but failed.

“That’s great, that’s really great, a first, too!” He said shaking his sister’s shoulder. “No, uh, this is my sister, Y/n.” He explained.

Robin and Steve paled in embarrassment and fumbled for words, not for long before Sam assured them it was okay and explained how they’ve been mistaken for twins before but never a couple.

“I’m just in town for the weekend, wanted to see the sister after her first week.” He nodded and put the snacks on the counter.

Steve looked to Y/n fully for the first time, “you’re new at Hawkins High?” He asked.

“That’s what he said, dingus.” Robin taunted as she put the snacks in the bag and rang up the rest of their purchase.

“$12.76, please.” She said politely.

Sam opened his black leather wallet that used to belong to their dad and handed her some bills. “I’m a junior,” She nodded, answering Steve. He gave her a small smile and slid the bag over to Sam, who wasn’t moving to leave just yet.

“So, any interesting plans, or is it movie night?” Steve asked them, rephrasing his question from before. “I dunno, what else is there to do here?” Sam shrugged.

Steve and Robin shared a look, plainly showing their silent conversation. Robin’s eyes read optimism, while Steve’s said apprehension. “Well…” Robin started. Sam leaned in, as he does when things get interesting.

“Our friend has a thing going on tonight at this bar called the Hideout, have you heard of it?” She asked looking between Y/n and Sam. The siblings looked to each othe,r and Y/n shook her head. “Well, do you listen any metal?” Robin asked.

Sam looked to his sister with excitement, “As a matter of fact..” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for her response.

“I do, and he does by association.” Y/n answered keeping her eyes on her brother.

“You guys should totally come!” Robin said with more enthusiasm. “But I don’t have a fake ID.. ” Y/n said feeling bad to ruin the mood.

“No worries, this place never cards. Plus, you won’t even have to sit at the bar, it’ll be so inconspicuous it’s insane.” Robin assured.

Sam looked at Y/n, waiting for her say so. Sam really didn’t want her to spend another school year inside. He wanted her to live. And he knew she was capable of putting herself out there now. It was just a matter of doing it again, and if she was willing.

Y/n knew how much she didn’t want to disappoint her brother, and herself for that matter. She knew how much fun she was capable of having. How bad could it be? Worst case scenario they get kicked out and she never has to go back.

“What time?” She asked

Y/n nervously spun her hair around her finger as she sat in front of the mirror, waiting for the clock to flash 8:45 so they could leave

She dressed a little out of her comfort zone but wore a flannel for safety and her jean jacket for warmth. At 8:35 she couldn’t stand it anymore and grabbed her bag to leave.

Y/n walked down the hallway to Sam’s room, knocking on the cracked door. Sam opened it swiftly, with his jacket in hand. “I’m antsy.” She spoke.

“Care to show me this bud you bought from your drug dealer?” He asked nonchalantly. “I thought you’d never ask.” She said as she turned on her heel to leave the house.

Their dad was already in bed, so they made sure to shut the door quietly and lock it behind them. Y/n skipped to the car, ready to listen to some tunes and hotbox in a parking lot with her brother again.

When the engine roared to life, they drove to the address Robin and Steve had given them, making sure to mention that the bar was a few miles outside of town and that they’d be there at 9:00.

The siblings rolled the windows down and turned up the radio when Rebel Yell by Billy Idol played. Y/n’s hair whipped around her wildly, but she was too busy obnoxiously singing at the top of her lungs with Sam to care that it was going to be a knotted mess when they came to a stop shortly.

When they reached the outskirts of town and saw the red neon sign glowing in the distance, Y/n reached for the pencil case in her bag, filled with the prerolls Eddie rolled just for her.

Sam parked behind the bar and turned off the engine and lights to remain unseen. He kept the battery on, so the radio continued to play, the light illuminated the back exterior of the bar and into the cab just enough. Y/n opened her pencil case and plucked out two joints.

“Whoa there, tiger, two?” He looked at her questioningly. She shrugged, “C’mon, special occasion? I’m a big girl now, chill.” She said placing the joints between her lips and digging her lighter out of her pocket.

Sam shook his head, holding his hand out waiting for her to hand one to him. When she got the light started, she puffed quickly to get them going and handed one to him.

“Windows up.” He said as he held it in his teeth, rolling the window up manually and nodding for her to do the same. “We’re going to smell like shit, Sam.” She said, obeying anyway.

“We’re going to smell anyway!” He said as a matter of fact. Y/n didn’t respond, she just puffed, and kept her eye glued to the clock on the dash.

8:47

They had exactly 13 minutes for her to get as tranquil as possible, and it was a challenge she was willing to accept.

Sam switched the radio over to the cassette deck and This Charming Man by The Smiths played, the upbeat track causing his head to bop wildly. He passionately lip synced to Morrisey, Y/n watching and not bothering to suppress her laughter.

She rolled down the window slightly to knock off her ashes, but as she did so she heard the crunching of gravel under shoes approaching the vehicle.

There was no use in ditching the joints, the smoke was too thick and wafting up to the stars as a couple of familiar faces ducked down to the window of the Bronco.

“Hey-o, I didn’t know it was this kinda party!” Robin said cheerfully.

“Ahhh! So glad you guys could make it, hop in!” Sam said with an inviting wave of his hand, visibly baked.

Y/n reached behind her and unlocked the back door for the two to crawl in. Robin and Steve clamored into the car and shut the door swiftly behind them.

Steve mumbled a soft greeting, looking to both Y/n and Sam, but Y/n could’ve sworn she saw something more flash across his face when he met eyes with Sam.

“There’s plenty to go around.” Y/n said to Robin as she offered the doobie. Robin smiled and gave a “thanks!” before accepting it and letting her head fall into rhythm with the beat of the next song on the mixtape.

“Ugh, Time After Time, love.” Robin sighed dreamily as she passed it to Steve.

Sam kept his eyes on Steve the whole time he took his dreadfully slow hit, then inhaling the smoke through his nose. Robin looked from Steve to Sam and then back to Steve, and then to Y/n.

Steve’s eyes met Sam’s, the two sharing a small smile before Steve let out a monstrous snort that quickly evolved into a coughing fit.

“See, Harrington, there is such thing as too much too fast.” Robin chided while patting his back supportively. Y/n chuckled at their antics. Steve regained control of his breathing, his cheeks and forehead were flushed pink, and his eyes overflowed with tears.

“You’re about to have the best time though!” Robin encouraged as Steve handed the joint to Y/n, and Sam handed his joint to Robin.

“Ooh! Double doobies, love it.” Steve said as the effect seemingly rushed over him. He propped his cheek against the side of Y/n’s head rest, observing how she expertly pulled a thick drag from the joint and nearly swallowed the whole cloud.

She let out a couple of baby coughs before clearing her throat, taking a deep breath, and handing it over to her brother who decided it was too short to hit anymore and stamped it out in the ashtray.

Robin glanced at the clock as Steve passed on his turn and sent the doobie straight to Y/n. “It’s 8:58, we better head in before he goes on!” She exclaimed as Y/n handed the joint to Sam since he lost his last turn.

Steve nodded with heavy eyes and turned to open the door, as Y/n and Sam cracked the windows to let the car air out. The teens exited the vehicle rather briefly, the cold starting to bite at their exposed skin and putting pep in their step.

Y/n and Robin walked ahead of Sam and Steve, the girls wrapping their jackets around themselves and giggling when they stumbled into one another.

When they reached the sidewalk rounding the front of the building, they stopped and waited for the boys to catch up. “C’mon slow-pokes!” Robin shouted through cupped hands.

Steve made a remark to Sam, causing them to share a laugh right before they broke into a run simultaneously. Robin and Y/n continued to the front, the closer they got the door the louder the sounds from inside became. The parking lot was fairly busy, college kids were flocked around a few vehicles in the lot, groups heading inside.

The boys rounded the corner, their laughter announcing their presence. “Welcome to the Hideout.” Steve said easily as he opened the door for the group. Robin motioned for Y/n to follow her through the heavy black door and into the dimly lit building.

Y/n’s eyes scanned around the room, the only lights came from the stage are in the back, and the neon signs covering the walls. The bar stools were filled, as were most of the small tables, but Steve quickly spotted a table in the back corner of the dance floor, to the far left of the stage, not far from an emergency exit.

“Alrighty, I’ll take it from here, Buckley.” Steve said, shuffling his way to the front of the group to lead. He held his hand up like a tour guide and walked at a determined pace to the table.

Steve sat with his back to the wall, Y/n taking the seat in the corner, Robin to the right of her, and Sam to the right of Robin, across from Steve.

Sam shot Steve another one of those charming looks, earning Sam a not-so-subtle smile from Steve, and a suspicious look from Robin.

“I’m gonna get drinks, what does everyone want?” Steve asked as he fixed his jacket to the back of his chair and stood with his hands on his hips.

“I’ll come with you, you’re gonna need extra hands.” Sam volunteered almost immediately. Y/n shared a brief look with Robin but wrote it off as nothing.

“Coke, please!” Robin said in a cheerful daze and drummed her hands on the table lightly. “Ooh, I’ll take one too, two cokes, boys.” Y/n said holding up a wiggling number two on her hand.

The boys turned to go to the bar, Y/n noticed Steve put a hand on Sam’s shoulder to lead him to the bar and saw the smile they shared as they started conversation. It was nice to see Sam hang out effortlessly with someone again.

“So, Y/n, you’re a metal fan?” Robin asked as her head rolled around to meet Y/n’s eyes. Y/n admired the freckles that adorned Robins face, and how electrically blue her eyes were. She typically didn’t like it when people did blue eyeliner, but on Robin it fit.

“I am a metal fan! Are you?” Y/n asked, effortlessly following the rules of conversation her brother taught her long ago. “I like some songs, but I’m no metal head like Eddie.” Robin chuckled as the boys returned.

Eddie?

Eddie, Eddie?? How many metal-head Eddie’s could there possibly be in Hawkins?

Before she had the chance to ask for clarification, Steve and Sam returned with the drinks. Sam set the girls drinks in front of them and took his seat next to Robin while Steve sat Sam’s brewski in front of him with a smile.

Robin couldn’t help but roll her eyes at Steve, covering it up by taking a drink out of her glass. Suddenly, microphone feedback echoed through the bar followed by a group entering the stage and someone adjusting the color of the stage lighting to a red that matched the neon sign outside.

“Ladies and Gentleman, welcome to The Hideout’s Open Mic Night!” A burly man leaned down to the mic stand to greet the crowd. “We’ve got some talented groups here with us, and we hope you guys are ready to throw back some drinks and get loud!” He rang out as the whole bar went wild.

“Let’s get rockin’!” He threw up some devil horns as he exited the stage, and the first group took their places.

Y/n sipped her drink nervously, letting her eyes adjust to the front of the room but not before Robin obscured her vision by leaning in front of her. “There he is, Steve, there he is!” Robin whispered and patted Steve’s arm in excitement. After she sat back, Y/n’s eyes met the tall, gorgeous figure now commanding the room.

“Uhh, hi,” he let out with a coy laugh and adjusted the stand as someone in the back cheered. “We’re Corroded Coffin.” He said with a nod and slipped his guitar over his shoulder.

The drummer tapped his drumsticks, counting off before Eddie and the bassist jumped together with the beginning of the song. Eddie plucked lightly creating the haunting melody, while the bass and drums provided the bassline.

A crowd soon gathered in front of the platform, covering most of his bottom half. Y/n settled back into her seat, bringing one knee to her chest and shrugging her jacket off to get comfortable. Eddie approached the mic before the drums intensified and then finally brought his own playing to a halt while letting the echo of his guitar hum.

He leaned into the mic scanning over the room before singing in his alluring rasp:

“Your cruel device, your blood like ice,”

Y/n leaned forward, propping her elbow on the table, fully enamored by his voice. She was so zeroed in on Eddie she didn’t even recognize the song he played.

“One look could kill, my pain your thrill...”

Eddie began to pick again while the drums pounded to a climax. “I wanna love you but I better not touch,” the audience echoed after Eddie, eating it up and losing their minds.

Sam head whipped around to Y/n with wide eyes “isn’t this your favorite song right now??” he asked excitedly.

Y/n hadn’t noticed her jaw had fallen slack until everyone was looking at her for an answer. She nodded, quickly returning her attention to Eddie. “This is your favorite song?!” Robin shouted, shifting in her seat to get up.

“That’s our friend, Eddie Munson!” Steve said, matching Robin’s volume and nodding his head to the beat. Sam’s eyes snapped back to Y/n’s while replying to Steve. “Eddie Munson, you said?” a smug smile working its way onto his face.

Y/n shook her head at her brother before a very hyper Robin yanked her up by her arm to drag her to the crowded dance floor. “Are we really doing this?” Y/n asked only slightly panicked as they entered the sea of bodies.

“It’s your favorite song, of course we are!” Robin said before emulating the hyped-up head bangers surrounding them. Y/n laughed, starting to feel the head rush from the weed hitting her harder.

She turned her attention back to Eddie, who hadn’t noticed her yet. He held the audience captive with his charisma and hypnotic rendition of Poison by Alice Cooper.

Before she knew it, she was jumping alongside Robin, whipping her hair around, and singing with the rest of the bar. Robin couldn’t help the giggle fits when she finally got to see Y/n loosen up.

As the crowd continued to shift throughout the song, Robin and Y/n were slowly pushed up to the front of the stage, much to their delight. A thin sheen coated their skin, their baby hairs around their faces clinging in place.

Eddie spent a few moments with his eyes closed, soaking up his moment and feeling like he could never ever find a feeling that beat this one right here.

Y/n and Robin stood to Eddie’s right at the stage, leaning their forearms on the edge to catch a breath. As the drum pounded, the crowd bordering the stage hit their fists in time with the bass, bringing Eddie a satisfied smile.

Y/n was glad her brother couldn’t see the heart eyes that she wore currently, and quite honestly, she wasn’t even thinking about her brother, or Robin for that matter. Just Eddie.

As the chorus played out for the last time, Eddie opened his eyes to scan the crowd, wanting to engrain every face that was present for the best night of his life.

Until his gaze came upon the ethereal face, he’d been thinking of for the past 24 hours straight, singing passionately with him.

“Your mouth, so hot, Your web, I’m caught” she turned to sing to the girl next to her, who Eddie could’ve sworn was Robin but the detail felt very unimportant at the time. All he could focus on was the way her lips looked when she sang the scandalous lyrics.

“Your skin so wet, Black lace, on sweat.” He watched as she tilted her head back dramatically, shaking her hair out down her back and exposing the column of her neck that he loves so much and wished so desperately to have access to.

“I hear you calling and it’s needles and pins,” his eyes were unmoving from her, absolutely mesmerized by the way her hair bounced around her as she jumped in time with the music, her own eyes closed and an impossibly big grin on her lips.

“I wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name, don’t wanna touch you but you’re under my skin,” Her eyes finally opened to see his gaze found hers, and she couldn’t help but melt a little at the way he was looking at her, as if she were the only person in the room that mattered.

“I wanna kiss you but your lips are venomous poison,” he sang with a wink in her direction, causing her to avert her eyes and a heat to crawl up her neck.

“I don’t wanna break these chains!” The crowd echoed to Eddie when he held out the mic at the closing of the song, feeling like a god.

The lights went out on the stage as the audience applauded and cheered their exit into the back with the second act coming on nervously. The lights came back on while a few skinny dudes prepared their instruments.

The crowd’s roar quieted to the usual bar chatter while Sam and Steve approached the girls from behind with a few shots.

“Alright, party people, bottoms up before the next act.” Steve said while passing out the small glasses to the girls. “I’m willing to bet it’s gonna be something by either Mötley Crüe or Cinderella,” Sam said as he clinked his small glass with each of them.

Y/n’s eyes felt droopy from the energy spent on moshing, and her limbs felt slightly gelatinous from the joints they split. She clinked her glass with Steve last before they drained them and handed them back to the guys to deal with. Y/n ignored the dull ache sinking through her as she scanned the room behind her for the man on her mind.

“We are The Ex Catholic Kids.” The front man mumbled quietly into the mic before the starting beats to Metal Health by Quiet Riot boomed through the bar.

“Good thing you didn’t bet, right?” Steve said to Sam with an audible smirk from behind the two girls. “Right you are, but I hope you guys are ready, because we get kinda wild to this one.” Sam said casually before grabbing Y/n’s hand to join the forming mosh pit in front of the stage.

Y/n’s careless laughter bounded out of her as she resumed her frivolous flailing, not bothered by all the other bodies and whipping hair around her.

The siblings kept a grip on each other’s forearms for safety, not letting the other get carried away by the waves of people.

“BANG YOUR HEAD!” They yelled to each other and resuming their dancing, if that’s what you could call it.

“Metal health will drive you mad!”

Around that time is when Eddie and his band mates, Gareth and Jeff, emerged from the back after packing away their instruments and collecting themselves from the epic performance they just gave.

Eddie’s eyes searched for Steve and Robin, and more importantly, the girl of his dreams that was suddenly nowhere to be seen. He spied Robin and Steve at the edge of the crowd, seemingly waiting for him.

Steve spotted Eddie approaching and nudged Robin to get her attention. When Robin saw Eddie, she ran to meet him halfway, stumbling into him for an awkward congratulatory hug. “Eds! That was phenomenal.” She slurred slightly as she released him from her grip and Steve joined them to give Eddie a fond shoulder pat.

Eddie narrowed his eyes at the two, examining their eyes carefully. “Are you guys wasted?” He asked suspiciously. Robin and Steve attempted to stifle their laughter but failed, giving them up immediately.

“We just had a shot,” Steve said, for whatever reason trying to explain their current state.

“—and two joints.” Robin confessed with a laugh and knocking Steve’s shoulder with her own causing him to burst into uncontrollable laughter with her.

Gareth and Jeff shared a laugh with Eddie before wading through the crowd to get their drinks.

Before Eddie could ask, a lightbulb visibly went off in Robin’s head. “Eds! You’re not gonna believe it, we brought friends! And you played her favorite song, how fun is that?” She said over the music.

Eddie scanned the crowd for her angelic face, before spotting her with Sam, which made his heart sink, no—plummet to the bottom of his stomach.

They looked so natural together, and happy... and close. He envied the way the guy gripped her arm as they moshed together, keeping her safe like he would if it were him. Robin’s chatter faded into the back of Eddie’s mind as he observed the two singing and laughing.

“There they are!” Robin exclaimed as she pointed to the couple Eddie held under his surveillance. He watched as Y/n and her guy returned, his hand on her shoulder carefully guiding her through the crowd.

Y/n’s eyes met Eddie’s, butterflies swarming through her chest and throat. She couldn’t quite make out the look behind his eyes, but whatever it was she was confused. He looked like he was holding his breath, his jaw clenched, and his eyes shined more than usual, maybe it was the stage lights that flashed red, blue, and, yellow on a loop.

Sam took his hand off Y/n now they were out of the crowd and took his position next to Steve, leaving Y/n with Robin and Eddie. She looked up at Eddie, observing how he avoided her gaze to look at his reeboks.

“Hey, Stranger.” She said over the crowd singing along, nudging his elbow with her own. Eddie couldn’t fight the smile her voice brought him and gave into the urge to look into her eyes. He wanted to say something—anything, desperately, but the ache in his throat didn’t allow him to.

Before he could manage a reply, Robin took it upon herself to make introductions. “Eddie, this is Y/n and her brother, Sam! They’re new in Hawkins and you’ll never believe it, she’s a total metal-head!” She said excitedly.

Realization hit Eddie like a truck; the guy was her brother, not her boyfriend.

“Is that so?” He asked, looking down at Y/n with the dreamy look he wore on stage washing over him again. A shy smile grew on Y/n’s lips as the third band of the night started Nobody’s Fool by Cinderella.

“I called it! I called it!!! Cinderella, baby, WOOO!” Sam hollered from the table while Steve cackled like a fool and stomped his feet in his laughing fit. Y/n felt a blush fill her cheeks at her brother’s drunken antics.

“He a Cinderella fan, I presume?” Eddie asked, breaking the tension. Y/n let out easy laughter and shook her head “Eh, tonight he is, I guess.” She said looking back at Sam, who was currently swaying with an open lighter raised above his head.

Robin scampered off to join Steve and Sam at the table, leaving Eddie and Y/n alone, finally. “You were really great,” she tried to say over the crescendo of the song and the cheers from the pleased crowd.

Eddie leaned down closer to her, the familiar spice in his cologne further intoxicating her. “What was that?” He asked.

“You were really great!” She said, raising up on her toes slightly to get a bit closer. Eddie eyes lit up at the compliment and silently thanked the stage lights for covering up his blush.

“I’m glad you liked it, it’s pretty lucky you got to be here when we played your song, huh?” He asked as his friends approached him with a beer stein for him.

“My song?” She asked with a smile. Eddie felt flustered. ‘Your song? Really??’

“I-I, I meant your favorite song, unless it’s changed between yesterday and today?” He fumbled for recovery, but still managed to make her laugh a little. Eddie took a nervous sip as Gareth clapped his shoulder, jostling him a bit.

“Eds! Aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend here?” He said with a sickly sweet smile, knowing exactly what he’s doing to cramp Eddie’s style, or at least waver his confidence a little.

Eddie couldn’t help the steel look he shot Gareth momentarily before turning his lips up into a tight smile. “Of course! Y/n, these are my band mates, Gareth and Jeff. Gentleman, this is Y/n L/n she goes to school with us now.”

Y/n wasn’t always great at feeling out other people’s emotions but she could feel the tension emanating from Eddie, not knowing she is the source of his anxiety. She lifted a hand from her side in greeting, wishing she had a cup to hold or a joint to smoke.

“Nice to meet you.” She said with a pleasant smile that made Eddie want to swoon. Gareth smiled back at her in a way that made Eddie want to take him out as if he were the quarter back on a football field.

“Is this the very Y/n that kept you so late from Hellfire last night?” Gareth looked to Eddie with intrigue and raised brows.

Eddies answer caught in his throat along with embarrassment, and he felt awful for wishing Gareth would leave or disintegrate before he had to answer. Instead, Y/n answered for him. “I am! Sorry, I had him rolling up with me all afternoon.” She laughed easily with a captivating shine to her eye.

Gareth laughed along with her briefly before Sam approached the boys surrounding his sister. “Make some friends, Y/n?” Sam asked expectantly, his eyes immediately looking over Eddie up close.

“Sam, Y/n’s brother,” he held his hand out to Eddie as Y/n rolled her eyes at her brother, now wishing he would go away or disintegrate.

“Eddie Munson, good to meet you.” He said with a cordial smile, praying that Sam didn’t feel how sweaty his palm was. “That was awesome, really, I don’t know how Y/n will go back to wearing out that Alice Cooper tape now.” He nudged his sisters shoulder with a smile.

A knowing smile spread across Gareth’s face “Ohhkay, now I know why you suddenly took me up on my idea to play Alice Cooper, isn’t that right, Munson?” Gareth teased Eddie quietly as Sam made his way back to the table with Steve and Robin who were now diving into some wonderful looking bar food.

“What?” Y/n asked, not fully hearing Gareth’s revelation. “Nothing, nothing, he thinks we should go get a drink,” he shouted over his shoulder as he grabbed Y/n by the wrist and lead her through the room.

Y/n used the crowd as an excuse to stay close to Eddie, and thanked herself silently for wearing a shirt that showed more chest than usual. Eddies palm splayed wide across her lower back as he ushered her onto a bar stool.

“What’s your poison?” He asked her as he set down his beer. Y/n looked at the shelf of bottles behind the bar, swallowing lightly. “Um, coke.” She looked at him, the warm lighting illuminating his face beautifully and allowing her to admire his brown eyes she loved so much.

He let out a wry laugh at her answer and shrugged, ordering her a coke with the bartender. “So hows that half treating you?” He asked as their drinks were set in front of them, Y/n taking a long sip before responding.

“Fantastic, really. It’s down to a quarter now probably.” She said looking at him through heavy lidded eyes.

Eddie chuckled and glanced back at Robin and Steve, still giggling it up with Sam, who had taken to giving a performance of his own to his new friends.

“Glad I could help Harrington get the stick out of his ass.” He directed his attention back to Y/n who looked at him intently with the familiar glassy eyes he couldn’t shake from his mind. She chuckled and took another drink, which gave Eddie the opportunity to admire the way her hair draped over her shoulder so deliciously.

“So, what do you think of the Hideout? “ he asked, shooting the breeze. Y/n shrugged as she set her glass on the bar. “It’s grimy, but I find it endearing.” She spoke. “Grimy and endearing, huh?” He laughed.

“Yeah, like someone else I know.” She said wryly. His eyes found hers as his heart skipped a beat. She thought he was endearing. “So, um, how long have you been friends with Steve and Robin?” She asked, taking his silence as awkwardness.

“Well you know Henderson—Dustin, I mean, right? Steve babysat him and a few of his other friends like Wheeler and Sinclair back when they were in middle school, and he and I also used to go to school together, so when the kids joined Hellfire we had no choice but to interact more often. But turns out he isn’t as big of a pain in the ass as he used to be, so that’s pretty cool. And Robin, she’s sort of a package deal with Steve but I find her more entertaining than I find him, honestly. Didn’t know they smoked, so that’s a pleasant surprise.” He smirked down at his drink.

“What about you?” He asked her, getting the courage to look at her again, his eyes scanning over her face. “Oh, uh, we went to the Family Video earlier, and they talked us into some movies. But then Sam asked Steve what else there was to do around here, and Robin invited us out.” Y/n nodded.

“And here you are.” He said quietly, sneaking a glance at her lips.

“And here I am.” She agreed as his eyes flicked back up to hers. “Do you wanna step out with me? I needa smoke.” He said dismounting his stool.

Y/n glanced back at their table, Sam listened to Steve chatter about something while Robin made additions here and there. Y/n looked back to Eddie who had slid a cigarette into his mouth and grasped his lighter, waiting for her answer. She nodded with quiet eagerness and followed him through the side door next to the bar.

The squeaky swinging door lead out into the ally where the dumpster sat along with two benches presumably for employees to take their breaks. Eddie plopped down in the space next to the dumpster, leaving the one closest to the door free for her. He patted it affectionately as he brought his light up to his cigarette.

She sat almost immediately, her high excusing her brain to ignore any and all ideas that she may come off as too eager. He held out his lit cigarette to her, and she accepted it keeping her eyes on his.

He smiled as he watched her take a drag and lean back against the brick building to gaze above them at the stars. When she exhaled, the smoke left like a prayer from her lips to the sky. He forgot how to speak momentarily, suddenly feeling as if he were in a dream. His hands remembered he needed to light another for himself, that’d help him.

“So what made you play Poison?” She asked directly. Eddie felt his cheeks flush as he fought a small smile. “Gareth has been bugging me to play it for a few weeks now, I couldn’t take his persistence anymore, ya know?” He said with a shrug and a nonchalant drag of his smoke.

Y/n giggled and swatted his arm playfully before leaning back again to admire the sliver of sky carved out by the buildings surrounding them. He paused for a minute before answering her without taking his eyes off her smoking profile.

“Actually this uh, cute little pothead mentioned it.” He shrugged. Y/n’s head whipped around in a cloud of smoke to meet his eyes, spotting an ornery smile on his face.

“Is that so?” She asked before taking a drag to pacify the heart palpitations she was experiencing. Eddie turned to look at the sky himself, spying the moon peeking over the top of the building in front of them.

He nodded lightly, the smile still playing at his lips from before. “Very much so.” He looked to her lips, the way she was ogling his. Neither of them could tell you which of them leaned in first, but the two came so close their noses grazed one another before Robin all but falls through the door, “I’m sure I saw them come through here!” She said, causing the two to lurch apart, making themselves comfortable on either end of the benches, puffing anxiously at their cigarettes.

“See! There you guys are.” She confirmed to the two men following her. “Y/n M/n L/n, is that a cigarette?” Sam scolds teasingly as Y/n covers her face with her free hand in embarrassment at the use of her middle name.

“You’re middle name is M/n?” Eddie asked with an amused smile on his face. Steve and Robin laughed at Sam as he took his sisters smoke from her to hit it himself. Y/n looked back to Eddie and nodded shyly.

He scooted closer to her, not nearly as close as before, but close. “I like it. It’s cute. Like that girl I was talking about.” He said quietly, gently nudging her shoulder and took a drag from his cigarette.

“So uh, Steve and Robs and I were thinking we’d go back to the car to smoke for a bit, would you like to join us?” Sam asked Y/n but referred to Eddie mainly. She looked to Eddie for an answer, but his heart sank as he looked into her eyes again.

“I wish I could, but I have to get the band home...” He said with disappointment lining his words. Y/n nodded understandingly, returning her gaze to her hands in her lap.

Eddie handed her the rest of his cigarette as an idea popped into his head. “I’d also like to give you a ride home, if that’s cool...” he said to her quietly, her gaze meeting his again at the offer.

“Really?” She whispered.

He smiled warmly at her and nodded, “I’ll probably have to drop you off last, you know, cause of my routine stops but I could definitely squeeze you in.” He teased quietly.

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes before standing and handing Eddie’s cigarette back to him to approach her brother who was leaned against the door frame listening to Robins theory about cuffed pants and sexuality. “Samuel, I require a word.” She said in a small posh voice, earning a snicker from Sam the Zooted.

He offered his arm like an English gentleman, and she took it in hers as they took a slow stroll down the alley, discussing in hushed voices.

“Eddie wants to drive me home, and I want him to, is that cool?” She asked nervously. Her brother never overstepped when it came to his sister’s decisions on who she spent her time with, while he always held her safety in high regard, he knew he had no say. Despite that, Y/n still respected his opinion when it came to matters such as these.

He stopped to shoot her an eager look. “Absolutely.” He whispered and gave an encouraging squeeze on her arm as they resumed their walk. She briefly leaned her head on his shoulder affectionately before pulling back to ask “So, Steve’s nice...” and shoot him a knowing look.

Sam wouldn’t meet his sisters eyes but wore a smug smile on his lips. “I know. He’s really nice.” He glanced back at the waiting group, Eddie now leaned against the wall to join Robin and Steve’s conversation.

“Cute too, hmm?” She nudged him again.

“Shut uuup.” He rolled his eyes and retracted his arm from her before turning on his heel to return to the group. “Is it cool if we use like two more prerolls?” He asked her, walking backwards with his keys in hand.

Y/n stopped walking when she reached Eddie, Robin and Steve getting up to follow Sam out of the alley. “Yeah, you just gotta help pay for my next restock.” She said with a devious smile. Sam turned all the way back around and flashed his sister the finger before rounding the corner, Robins laughter fading with their shadows on the sidewalk.

Y/n sighed and plopped back down in her seat at the end of the bench. Eddie quickly scooted back close to her til their thighs were touching, to hand her the cigarette she left with him. She thanked him quietly before taking the final drag and squashing it beneath her foot.

“You ready to get outta here?” He asked, his breath tickling her shoulder. When she turned she didn’t expect him to be as close as he was, but she wasn’t complaining.

He observed the curl of her eyelashes, the outline of her face and the way the night breeze carried her flyaways towards him.

She took a deep breath she didn’t know she needed and nodded, the prickly feeling in her throat returning when she caught a whiff of his spicy cologne she wanted to drown in. Eddie couldn’t help himself when his hand raised and traced her cheekbone and down along her jaw and chin, stroking the round of it with his thumb.

Eddie didn’t know it but this simple sweep of his fingers stole her breath away, and she wanted nothing more than to lean into his touch like a lovesick puppy.

“C’mon, let’s get these nerds dropped off.” He said, standing up to get the door, and holding it open for her as she sat—still recovering from the unexpected affection. Eddie snickered as he looked her over, he loved these moments where she didn’t know how to act, as if he had the ability to flip the power switch in her head and steal all ability to function from her.

Y/n finally noticed his waiting and stood abruptly to walk through the open door. She scanned over the crowd for Eddie’s friends and waited for him to take the lead to find them, when she felt his hand on her lower back. She looked up to him as he tentatively pulled her closer to move through the busy crowd, more people seemed to fill the bar than when they left ten minutes ago.

“Over there,” Eddie nodded to Jeff whose arms were waving over the crowd. Eddie placed both hands on Y/n’s shoulders and he steered her in front of him and through the crowd carefully.

“We ready?” Eddie asked, looking between his friends for confirmation. Gareth ran his eyes over Y/n again and raised his eyebrows at Eddie suggestively.

Eddie rolled his eyes with a smile and turned Y/n around by her shoulders to find their way to the front door. Eddie couldn’t help the constant flickering between his hands and her back and shoulders.

He loved the way her hair brushed his hands as they moved, and he was very surprised at the sensation he felt when someone unexpectedly stepped in front of Y/n, bringing her to a halt and Eddie to run into the back of her. His eyes widened at the tightening of his pants that he’d been fighting all night.

Once they made it through the doors, the freezing night air hit them like a ton of bricks, knocking Y/n’s hair straight back much to Eddie’s delight. He could smell her sweet shampoo, and caught a glimpse of the entire expanse of her neck and shoulders, a glimpse he’d be revisiting for late at night for a while.

Y/n immediately shrunk back into herself, grabbing her arms for warmth. Eddie immediately shrugged off his jacket to drape over her shoulders. “Oh gosh, thank you.” She said with the sweetest smile at him.

Eddie bit back a smile and placed his hand back on her to lead her to the van the two other boys were already headed towards at a determined pace. “Anytime.” He said more lovingly than he meant to and rubbed his hands over her shoulders with vigor for warmth as they crossed the road.

The ride with Gareth and Jeff was more fun than Eddie first expected. He was fully prepared for Gareth to try to destroy his façade, or for Jeff to make some dumb remark at something she contributes to conversation, but of course they loved her.

Y/n played disc jockey, locating the tapes everyone requested on their way through town. Jeff was dropped off first, leaving Gareth to cozy up to the front seat the best he could to talk to Eddie and Y/n.

Eddie loved to hear the way Y/n talked with other people, though a small part of him craved all of her attention and found himself going 10 over the speed limit in a residential area. “Jesus Ed, you’re gonna get pulled over. I didn’t think you had that much to drink.” Gareth said, clinging to the head rests of the front seat for dear life since he wasn’t buckled in.

“I didn’t, I just had lead foot for some reason, sorry, dude.” Eddie explained, easing onto the break. Gareth nodded in understanding and got comfortable again as Eddie pulled into his driveway.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Y/n. Eds, until next time.” He reach over the rest to give Eddie a small brotherly handshake and exited through the back doors, closing them with a brisk slam.

Eddie watched Gareth jog up the walkway to the front door, the moment he’d been anticipating was finally here—they were alone.

“Well, you’re next, I suppose.” He said looking her over. Y/n looked at her watch and read 11:37.

“It’s the weekend, Munson, I don’t have a curfew.” She shrugged. Eddie let out an impressed whistle and raised his eyebrows. “Damn, the world really is our oyster isn’t it?” He asked as he backed out of Gareth’s driveway.

“What do you wanna do?” She asked, anxiety tinting her words. He smirked and briefly looked to her with that wonderful, mischievous glint in his eyes before answering, “Nothing legal.”

@munsonsmel0dy @thincrusttheworks

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