Hello! Happy Holidays!!! ٩( 'ω' )و i was wondering if you could do a Dustin Henderson x reader fic where the reader is punk, i think he'd find them really cool (๑❛ᴗ❛๑)
hi!!! happy holidays to you too!!! ; and omg ofc i can!! ill definitly try, but my apologies if I get anything on the 80s punk aesthetic wrong, did some research but I fear im not a pro at aesthetics and stuff haha ; and especially for s5 (and with rumors that suzie and dustin may break up) (writing this on dec25) i feel dustin would have a lot going for him regarding a punk significant other hehehe ; tysm for requesting!!! hope you enjoy :D ; this got so like disorganized and messy omg im so sorry anon this didnt eat
DUSTIN HENDERSON ; the jacket
summary ; you save dustin from being beaten up... again, and give him something sentimental to you both
warnings ; language, mentions of weed, knives, Eddie's death is talked about a lot / basically the plot
disclaimers ; dustin / party are 11th graders (canon) but reader is a senior, reader is a really good painter as well
word count ; 2.2k
masterlist
"Leave him alone."
Dustin quickly looks up, eyeing you as you approach. Upon setting his eyes on you, he feels his heart melt a little bit, he isn't sure why, but he can feel something in his chest twist and his brain go numb. Something about that resting bitch face turned to an angry revenge revenge-seeking smile tore him apart.
Chance turns around, glaring at you as you stand in front of him, standing your ground. Dustin is your ground.
"What'd you just say, freak?"
You glare at him. "I said leave him alone."
He moves forward, standing up straight all up in your face to try and intimidate you. "And why should I, murderer?"
You scoff.
They blamed Eddie for Jason's, Patrick's, Chrissy's, and Fred's deaths, but now, they're calling you a murderer. Ironic. You may have been involved with trying to keep Eddie safe, but you didn't kill anyone. Still, this was better than them spraypainting Eddie's grave again.
You can tell that Dustin is thinking the same thing you are. He's fighting back a scoff so hard right now, you can tell by the way one of his dimples twitch and his eyebrows furrow. In a way, you want the curly-haired boy to reach out, grab the jock by the collar, and slam his head into the lockers behind him.
"Because, dick for brains," you spit, "If you don't, I'll take a pocket knife to your balls and pop them like water balloons," you threaten, flashing a pocket knife hiding away in your jacket pocket. "Remember when you had to waddle for a week when Lucas' little sister rocked your nuts to Hell in self-defense?" you rhetorically question, "You'll waddle forever. Say goodbye to your bloodline."
He eyes the pocket knife, a glare reflecting off the blade. He bites his tongue. At your side now stand Lucas, Mike, and Will, who you barely even knew. His friends awkwardly walk off, leaving him to battle a 4v1 himself if he so attempted it.
"Fine," he huffs before throwing one last word at Dustin, "Next time, you're fucking dead. Take it off."
You toss a collective glare at Chance as he stomps off all pissy. You quickly walk away, not wanting to continue to make a scene.
Lucas, Mike, and Dustin share looks and words, watching you step away to your next class.
"You haven't talked to Y/n since..." Lucas trails, "Right?"
Dustin shakes his head, entirely awestruck. "No, not a word."
Mike nods, "Seems they still care about the remaining Hellfire sympathizer...s"
Dustin shrugs their hands off his shoulders, staring down the hall where you disappeared. He could literally feel and hear the Blitzkrieg Bop radiating off of you, you were just that fucking cool.
Lucas instantly notices the hearts in Dustin's eyes once Mike and Will take their leave. He smirks and smacks the curly-haired brunette on the cheek, lightly, in a teasing way.
"Go talk to them, man," Lucas encourages with a smile.
Dustin shrugs, his cheeky smile quickly fading at the thought. He bites the inside of his cheek nervously. Ever since Eddie died, you hadn't spoken a word to one another, like a shared agreement to let your friendship die with your awesome super senior friend, considering you met through him. You didn't know what to say to each other.
"Nah..." the boy mutters, head hung low.
Dustin feared you wouldn't believe that Eddie sacrificed himself for him, yet you already knew that's how it went down. Eddie wouldn't just die... he'd go out with a bang, he'd go out saving someone else in a town that wanted him slaughtered.
Plus, ever since he and Suzie ended things, he was kind of mortified by the thought of admiring someone in a romantic way again. He was scared shitless when he started realizing he could feel that way for you, even though you didn't even talk anymore. He saw you frequenting the halls, biking around town, in passing at the WSQK, almost everywhere, but not a word was shared. He knew you visited Eddie's grave, Wayne's new trailer to have frozen dinners with him, the site of the old trailer where the cracks emerged, the closest you could find yourself to Eddie's death site. He spotted you, he always managed to, somehow.
You tried to immortalize Eddie's memory, something Dustin didn't know how to express gratitude for. You remembered him for who he was. You knew Eddie, and you weren't going to pretend that you didn't like the others. Gareth was in your grade, and Dustin hadn't even seen you two talk in years. He wondered if you even went to the others' graduations, if you were expecting to cheer and clap when his name was called at your graduation ceremony.
Lucas raises an eyebrow in confusion, "Dude, what? 'Nah'? Are you alright?"
Dustin nods with a little edge, "We haven't spoken in forever. It was clearly a mutual agreement since..."
Lucas bites his lip, rapidly thinking, gears churning inside his head. "Just say thank you for earlier, ask how they're doing, see if they'd wanna go to Eddie's grave with you sometime."
Dustin sighs deeply. "If I do, will you get off my ass?"
Lucas nods with a devious smile.
"Fine."
Honestly, Dustin hadn't noticed how much you had changed since Eddie's death, in a fashion sense. Not at first, at least. You went from flannels and beat-up sneakers like Mike wore to Doc Martens, denim jackets with band and morality patches on them, distressed jeans, and wore spikey and studded accessories.
He had changed too, as you'd come to notice as he approached you in the library. He used to wear bright colors and kept his hair on the short-ish side, which paired his new Thinking Cap with everything he wore, including his toothy smile. Now, he usually wore a Hellfire shirt, dark jeans, and a trench coat. He grew his hair out, much like Eddie's, as it ran down to his shoulders. His smile was gone, replaced by a look of... dread, really. He wore rings, too, some you'd stolen from Eddie long ago when you were prepping a style change.
Dustin stood over you, listening to the punk music blasting out of your headphones before you noticed him and turned it down before pulling them off your ears. He recognized the tune, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact song. You changed a lot, maybe for the better, for your own good. Maybe that's how you seemed alright, despite everything, whilst he was suffering every single day, fighting to keep himself together.
You look up, eyes silently questioning his sudden appearance.
"Thank you," he speaks, "For earlier."
You nod. Your eyes show no sign of disrespect, just genuine care. "No matter what, I have your back. You are Hellfire, Henderson."
He raises an eyebrow, his stern stare faltering.
"You are what Hellfire expected of its members. You have single-handedly immortalized that club in this school, in this town, whether you realize it or not. Whether or not they see us as cultist freaks or as dweebs with a D&D board is debatable, but either way, you did that. You did it for Eddie."
You notice him chewing the inside of his cheek.
"Sorry- I..." you exhale, "The fact you kept it... the original one, that shows I can trust you. You walk around these halls looking for a fight, and never once have you let it take you down. You're what we need, what this whole world needs."
He takes this time to notice one of the patches on your jacket, the one with the cutoff sleeves that you wore every day. One of them isn't a patch, it's hand-painted. The Hellfire logo. Just seeing it makes him want to break out into tears, you care just as much as he does. It wasn't even about Hellfire anymore. It was about justice, morality, what's right and what's wrong.
Under the breast pocket, drawn in bare Sharpie, read 'color outside the lines.' and under that was a red '77'. Fuck, he caught onto that too fast for his liking. Jesus Christ, why the fuck does he find this attractive?
"You cared, too." he chokes, "You... you always did. You deserve more credit than I do."
You shake your head and stand up. You wrap your arms around him. Something about the chipped nail polish on your fingers that rested on his spine made him feel so... felt, in a way. He'd always wanted to paint his nails and embrace more punk culture, something about you just being there, showing that he really was a punk, it opened his eyes.
He's beyond flustered and brain-dead to the point of self-destruction. He wants to cry, right in the school library, into your arms. He's so confused, unsure if what he's feeling is platonic or romantic love, and which he should reciprocate.
You shake your head, allowing him to hide his face in your neck and shoulders. "You were always his favorite, y'know?"
Dustin sniffles, fighting back genuine tears.
"Actually, uh, I've been meaning to give you something," you note, unraveling your arms from around him, "It's at my locker. It's important."
He looks up after wiping his tears, silently wondering what you have for him. You grab your backpack and take his hand to lead him to your locker across the school floor. The trip is silent, your heavy footsteps echoing through the halls.
Upon reaching your locker, you fidget with the lock and move a spare jacket that was hanging on one of the hooks on the side. Upon moving it, you reveal a hole in the side of your locker, breaking into the one next to yours. You dig your hand in and with a couple of swipes, manage to open the other locker from the inside. You toss your bag on the floor as you hide whatever lurks in the second locker from Dustin. He makes a 360 spin, wondering if anyone else may be seeing what he is.
From the locker, you retrieve a lightwash denim jacket with the sleeves cut off. You hand it to Dustin, and within an instant, he realizes what it is. The original Hellfire battle jacket prototype. The one with the hand-painted D&D game on the back, with five warriors fighting a three-headed dragon over lava. At the top, in some gothic-looking font, was 'The Hellfire Club.' On the front rests a hand-painted logo, the Hellfire demon, same horns and all. On the right breast pocket sits two red D20s.
He clutches it in his hands, holding on so tight like he expects it to fly away in the wind. He's out of breath, caught in a whirlwind of surprise.
"How- how do you have this?" he questions frantically, looking up at you with genuine shock and surprise.
"I painted it, remember?" you chuckle, "That's Eddie's first senior year locker, the one no one uses cause they only remember his last one..."
He nervously chuckles and smiles, unable to express what he's feeling. "You- you kept it?"
"Why wouldn't I? It's one of the last things I have tying to Hellfire." you shrug, opening the locker door in full, showing him the multitude of old stickers on the inside of the door that Eddie used to vandalize school property. You kneel and lift the bottom plate, revealing an old weed stash, which was one of Eddie's that he'd forgotten about. "You know I don't smoke, or deal."
Tears stream down his cheeks. "Shit, man... damn."
You softly smile, leaning against the wall of lockers beside you. "I want you to keep it, Dustin. You deserve it. I... I can't hang onto it."
He raises an eyebrow. "Why?"
"I can't let it weigh me down. Eddie wanted me til I graduated, anyway. We wanted it to go from leader to leader, as a tradition." you answer, arms crossed.
He stares at the jacket in his hands, staining it with salty tears. He could truly kiss you in this moment, confused by the difficult emotions he feels in his head and his heart.
"You were going to be the next leader when I graduated, or left." you admit, "Always were. Eddie, me, then you. Eddie didn't ever wear it because I hadn't finished it in time for spring break. I was gonna finish it that night of the game, the night Chrissy died. And then... I hadn't picked it up again until a couple months ago."
You finished it just for him. Just to give it to him.
"I understand if you hate me now, since we haven't talked," you shrug, "But you deserve to have it. It's rightfully yours. I'm leaving in a couple of months, so you get to be the official leader now. Okay?"
Dustin slowly nods, barely processing any of what's happening. "Thank you. Thank you, really, so much."
You nod and smile, eyeing his gracious eyes and smile. He slips the jacket on, and the tears pour even harder. You swiftly wrap him in another hug, just holding him close.
"Can we be friends again?" he cries.
You smile. "Of course, we can."
"And can you make me a mixtape of your favorite punk songs?"
You airily laugh, "Of course I can. Anything for you, Dustin."
The way you say his name makes him want to crumble into a million pieces, like a week-old cookie.
"You're the coolest person I've ever met."
"Right back at'cha, Henderson."