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chronically-ghosted · 5 months

Text

stay gold, baby boy

rating: 18+ (expliiiiicit)

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: almost 6K

summary: six months into your friends-with-benefits situation, you institute a new game. A gold star on the board every time Dieter is a good boy. Today, he gets bingo . . . for wearing real pants.

warnings: friends with benefits (with more feelings), oral (m receiving), dom/sub dynamics (guess who subs today!), talks of edging, hair pulling, creampie, piv sex, praise kink, my mother raised me to have better taste in men but fuck it

a/n: remember when i posted this picture? And then this one? Remember how you could hear me yelling from space? Well, @sp00kymulderr has added fuel to the fire – Dieter and stickers. I can’t explain myself except that I was horny and I wanted to take his pants off with my teeth. So I did.

✨gif credit goes to the ever incredible, talented, and enabler of my dieter fantasies @perotovar! she saw me floundering with the header and immediately was like 'hold please i can make his baby cow eyes even better'✨

🤍Masterlist

With your foot on the low table, your ass firmly planted on the middle poofy cushion of the dumpster bin couch at the back of the trailer, thumbnail nibbled between your teeth, you have to admit it’s starting to get a little embarrassing. It’s honestly such a bad look.

Not that he would ever shame you for it. In fact, he’d probably like it.

And it’s not like you waited for him here all day. You had things to do as one of the co-screenwriters on this film. You had things to do and people to see and stuff to organize – all of which had nothing to do with Dieter fucking Bravo.

Okay, so a lot of it actually had to do with him. Lots of scene rewrites, lots of notes from the studio, lots of instances where the two of you had to put your heads together and come up with a solution that made the studio happy and didn’t make you want to claw your eyes out artistically speaking.

Which had led to this.

And the past six months of whatever this is. Working together led to seeing each other (outside of work), to eating with each other, to fucking each other – with the line firmly drawn there.

Whatever you may say about Dieter, the man could compartmentalize in a way that would make Marie Kondo weep with joy. By the way he treated you on set, no one in their right mind would ever have guessed he knew what you looked like naked. Or that he knew your left nostril twitched just before you came.

The same could be said for you too. Out of boredom one morning in the grocery store, you bought a trashy magazine with his face emblazoned across the top – Dieter Bravo and His Lonely Hearts Club. You weren’t one for the gossip rags, but flipping through it, not a single one of his “club members” mentioned his raging praise kink. You bought the damn thing on the spot, giving them all a consolation prize of some sort. Sorry, ladies, guess I win. Ha. Ha.

But, at the edge of the cushion, eyes occasionally flicking between the door and the failing darkness outside, you didn’t feel much like you’d won anything.

In fact, you’d lost. Big time. When all of this had been your stupid idea in the first place.

It had been your idea (and your initiative) to buy a packet of gold star stickers. Like the kind teachers use with their first graders. Actually, exactly like the ones teachers use for their first graders. You couldn’t form words when the woman at the education supply store ringing you up asked, “oh, what grade do you teach?”. You just tossed a twenty at her and booked it, your face painfully hot for a fairly innocuous purchase.

But all of that was his fault for dropping a praise kink and a teacher kink on you all at once the night after you jokingly spanked him with a ruler in front of the director, in-front of his co-star, because he wouldn’t agree to a line change, and he had to excuse himself from the room.

A month later and he forgoes touching himself for a gold star. He agrees to your line changes without argument for a gold star. He picks you up in the morning and drives you home at night for a gold star (you could drive yourself, but there’s always that last minute thing you need to talk to him about so you do it just because it’s easier, really).

He lets you come, over and over again, and keeps nothing for himself – all for a gold star.

Someone is bound to figure it out. They have to. Six months in and you’re getting sloppy. Obvious. What the fuck would you be doing in his trailer at seven o’clock at night after a full day of shooting unless you’re fucking him?

But you, worryingly, can’t find it in you to care.

You had lost your mind, that’s what you lost. Because tonight is the night Dieter gets his final gold star. It’s his reward but you’re about to vibrate out of your skin with want.

(It didn’t matter that you hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and by the third day, an ache had settled in behind your breastbone, one that clutched your phone in your hand, and forced your eyes to the screen every minute, checking for a new text message.

He called on day five, by the way.)

Your neck snaps up when you hear voices outside of the trailer. Laughter, his.

You suddenly feel the need to flatline against the floor in case anyone might see you.

Fuck, and how are you supposed to explain yourself if the someone he is with follows him into the trailer? Too many frightfully bad scenarios and you’re rooted to the floor, unable to make a single decision.

The metal latch clinks and his trailer door swings wide open.

“Yeah, man, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

You can hear a deep, “see ya” from the other side (maybe Daryl from craft services?) and the scrap-metal trailer squeaks, as the lock clicks shut.

Dieter scratches his cheek, surveying the trailer as if some part of him knows something is different, but his conscious mind can’t figure it out.

Until he turns. And nearly leaps out of his skin.

“Fuckin’ – what are you doing in here? Wait – I thought you left town to scope out the new location in San Diego.”

You want to answer him. You know how – open your mouth and tell him the trip’s been delayed for a few days, nothing serious, timeline bullshit – but you can’t.

It’s officially embarrassing.

It’s embarrassing how turned on by Dieter Bravo you are.

Hair in all kinds of directions, skinny cloth bracelet loose around his wrist, he had pushed up the sleeves of his henley shirt, exposing the thickly drawn triangle over his forearm and the clear one near his wrist. His hand with the rings hangs by his side and something inside of you silently whines.

But what really sets you off, what really makes this embarrassing and terrible because there’s no bluffing here, no hiding your cards and folding – nothing you can do to keep spit from flooding your mouth the longer you look –

He’s wearing pants.

Black with loose belt loops. Zipper and all. A silver button sitting between his hips. Fuck. Just like you told him to. Fuck fuckfuck.

You’re briefly aware when he says your name and you have to make a physical effort to tear your eyes away from that glinting silver eye winking up at you.

Dieter’s frowning, knowing silence isn’t really your thing.

“Are you okay? Why are you –,”

As though it had called his name, his gaze drifts from your face to the table between you and him. Where his scorecard rests with four stars in the Good column, and shockingly, none in the Bad.

His mouth parts, eyes going dark, as the realization hits him like a mack truck.

“Delays,” you say suddenly, preemptively, knowing that normal people usually have some sort of preamble before tearing each other’s clothes off. You stand up a bit straighter, tilt your jaw away from him, gaze leveling him from the end of your nose. You have got to get this thing under control. “Frank ran into some scheduling issues with the boat for the lake scene so, until further notice, the trip to San Diego has been delayed.”

He blinks slowly as if he’d been struck over the back of the heat, mouth parted. He has such fucking gorgeous, fucking perfect lips –

“So you’re here?” he asks, his voice low, disbelieving.

You scoop up the scorecard and step over the table, your shoes long since gone. It’s like his vision narrows the closer you come; he is transfixed, gaze on you as if molded at the seams, as you step up to him. You tap him on the chest once with the corner of the scorecard, excitement and nerves and that ache making you tremble despite your confident appearance.

“So I’m here.”

“On the last day of the week.” Words thick, as if all the moisture had been sucked out of his mouth.

“On the last day of the week.”

“When I,” he swallows thickly, “when I should get my reward.”

God, this kind of power trip should not be making you this wet.

You lift your gaze from his chest, taking in his beautifully dumb-struck face.

“You will.” You nod. “And do you know why?”

His breath quickens, lip between his teeth, when you scratch off the final star from the package and stick it to the Good column.

“Because I was a good boy?”

You toss the scorecard behind you, it clatters onto the table, and you cup the back of his hot neck.

“Because you were a very good boy.”

He stumbles back, knees unsteady, when you kiss him. You see his eyes a split second before you close yours and hot electricity swoops down to the pit of your stomach. It would be mortifying if you just fucked him right here and now – he does deserve something extra special – but fuck – you want his whole hand inside of you.

His warm palm slides across your jaw, pulling you into him, and Dieter breathes, deep and long, inhaling as much as he can. You don’t think he realizes that he’s picked you up off the ground with his arm around your back until he opens his eyes, vision hazy and off-center.

“Go lock the door, baby.”

He nods and puts you back down. You slip off your jacket as he bolts the trailer door shut.

Dieter’s mouth drops open when he turns around and sees you on your knees.

Shit, you should have stolen some knee pads from the costume department.

“Really?”

You smile at him because he asks like a kid that just got offered a puppy for Christmas. You reach towards him and he takes your hand, unsteady on weak knees

“For as long and as much as you want.”

You palm him and Dieter groans, mouth-closed at the sensation, the hard ridge of the metal zipper not one he is entirely familiar with. At least, not like this. Beneath the warm press of your palm, you feel him thicken, harden, and you press more, digging your fingers into his thighs. The muscles in his legs tense, his mouth falls open, as his hips cant forward, desperate for the new weight of the zipper.

“And I won’t make you wait, Dieter,” you say, eyes tripping up from where your hand sits, up to the flash of exposed tummy where his pants have ridden down and his shirt slid up, into his almost surprised gaze. “You’ve been very good, wearing this for me, but I want you to learn why it’s important to wear pants with buttons.”

“I-I t-t-thought,” he tries, voice abruptly cutting off when you nuzzle the constrained bulge in his pants. He tries again, eyes slamming shut as if to stifle the sensation of your warm breath so near to where he needs you the most. “I thought i-it was so I d-din’t – didn’t look bad.”

Your face still pressed into his crotch, you briefly massage his calves, then the backs of his thighs. You cup the curve of his ass through the starchy back pockets, which is remarkably prominent now that he’s in something else than baggy sweatpants.

You shake your head, nose dragging along his hot length, against the space between his hip bone and his cock, smiling.

“Baby, you know I like how you look. I always want you to be comfortable.” You look up and meet his eyes. The remaining brown not yet wholly consumed by a blurry, heated darkness softens. Somewhere beneath the hazy, disarming feelings of lust currently filling his head like a bike tire, he’s still your Dieter. Or – well, wait – at least the Dieter you know. The Dieter you have impossibly fun times with. The Dieter who makes you laugh like no one else. The Dieter that can make you fall apart until you’re a gooey, dripping mess and he still manages to stitch you back together. The Dieter that keeps you up at night thinking he might possibly want something more. “But this is so much more fun.”

Grounding your chest against his thighs, holding yourself against him as leverage, you sink your teeth into the corner of the fabric fastening his pants together. Eyes up at him again, you tug and his cock is pushed up against your tits from the force of the pull. He rocks forward, an airy gasp escaping his mouth, and the button gives, the lip of the fabric sliding back as the silver disk slips through the hole. Now your touch is unimpeded by rough fabric when you lean forward and kiss him just below the waistband of his black boxers.

It takes you a second to realize that Dieter Bravo is wearing underwear at all and you smirk up at him.

Something about your gaze makes the tips of his ears go red, as if he had been caught being very naughty. His big hand cups from your jaw to your ear, as if trying to placate you, beg you not to be mad this close to his cock.

“You said I had to dress u-up,” he says, eyes wide and round. God, he’s trying to be so good. One week of the rating system and Dieter Bravo is a trembling mess. Despite your wildly beating heart, you smirk, your thighs shaking briefly at the sudden rush of tenderness you feel for the man in front of you. You hide your own blush by mouthing that open spot just below his tummy and above his cock, wetting the black material with your tongue. Before he can whine about it, you pull back just barely, enough to curl your fingers around both his black underwear and the pants he wore for you. Just as you begin to pull down, you nip the zipper between your teeth and slowly, slowly, rubbing your nose against him, tug the metal teeth apart. His pants open and Dieter groans loudly. He’s already so sensitive.

For a mouthy, ego-driven bastard, he really did have a magnificent cock. Flushed at the base, thickest you’d ever had inside you, and he’s leaking silvery threads from the head. The vein thickly pulsating on the side makes you wonder how he hasn’t passed out from all the blood rushing to his cock.

You lick that vein, that beating pulse, and his knees buckle. His massive hand grips your shoulder and Dieter shakes his head, his mouth wrenching open.

“Please, please — mhmm — don’t tease. I-I can’t – you haven’t – please.”

As if you would be cruel to him. You feel rather dizzy, elated on the idea that you wield this much power over him. That he trusts you with all of him. There it comes again, that arching ache in your chest.

“I’m just trying to get myself ready for you,” you confess quietly. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

Dieter swallows something large in his throat, panic receding from his eyes. His smile is small and his touch on your cheek is light.

“I know.”

And you weren’t lying. You’d never forget the sound of your jaw popping and cracking the morning after you sucked him off three times before you let him come. Dieter is shockingly big, annoyingly only when he uses it against you or makes you tell him over and over just how big he is before giving it to you. For now, you just want to remind him how very appreciative you are that he gives it to you at all.

Eyes decidedly looking away from the warmth on his face, you squeeze the backs of his thighs as you relax your jaw as much as you can. Above you hear him huff with his mouth shut as you start to take him in, your tongue wetting that soft skin on the underside of his cock. One move forward and you’ve wet him halfway, tongue massaging that vein. Another drop of your head and you’ve taken him completely.

“Fuck,” Dieter murmurs, the hand on your shoulder tightening. Your heart pounds in your chest all the harder when he takes his other hand and knots your hair with his fingers. By the twitching of his thighs beneath your palms, you know it’s taking every ounce of his restraint to not buck his hips forward. “That’s it that’s my girl you take me so fucking good you feel so fucking good.”

The thing about your mouth that is markedly different from your pussy: you can’t release your gag reflex to take more of him. But fuck, you want him to fuck the back of your throat – you just might drown before it happens.

He smells surprisingly clean as your nose inches closer and closer to his skin. With each pull, you slide your tongue down the other side, until it pokes through and licks where you haven’t reached with your mouth yet, inches from his pelvis. He shudders when you use the tip of your tongue.

“Oh my god, your mouth, baby, your mouth.” The words dribble out of his slack mouth, fingers flexing in your hair as if he can mimic pushing your head down further. You pull all the way off him, tongue catching the rim of his cock and he drops his head back against his shoulders and moans. The sound of it makes your pussy throb and you breathe out your nose to stifle your own noises. This is about him. He did good. He was a good boy the whole week.

You replace your mouth with your hand. Sufficiently wet from the way you slobbered all over his cock, you use a fist around his flushed head to smear pre-cum all the way down to the base of him. You brush his balls with your knuckles, just as you fit the tip between your lips, sucking – and Dieter bucks, hard.

“Ngh – shit! S-sorry!” His nails dig into his thighs, eyes squeezing shut as silvery threads spurt out from his cock.

Maybe you’d gone too far with the whole sticker thing and he really thought this was another test. His cheeks are burnt pink, his chest heaving and it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen.

“Dieter,” you cry softly, gently, comfortingly. He still doesn’t open his eyes, not even when you resume stroking him. You lick the soft skin of his balls and his gasp punches the air out of his lungs, his eyes splitting open. He looks down at you, thighs trembling and you squeeze him gently. Not to edge him or punish him, but to make this last a bit longer for him. “Dieter, take your shirt off and sit down.”

He can’t move fast enough. He yanks the henley over his shoulders, the collar scraping his hair up in wild directions. He goes to sit but his thighs are shaking too much and he just sort of tumbles onto his ass. Smiling, you take your own shirt off, hoping to save this particular bra reveal for another time, but fuck, this time is as good as any. Despite his panting and squirming, his gaze rolls from your face to your tits. Emerald green with black lace, this is far too nice for a work bra and it properly communicates to him that you were going to fuck him whether or not he was going to get that final gold star. The realization is visible as it crosses his mind, bleeding hungry black in his eyes.

You take off his pants all the way, before sliding your own jeans down and to the floor. His roving gaze catches the matching panties and the noise in his throat is deep, like a smothered grunt.

“Now, I’m going to suck you off no matter what,” you say as you crawl in between his legs, before leaning back and sitting on your heels. You smooth your hands down his thighs, near his red, stark cock, but not touching. Dieter’s breathing hitches in anticipation, not sure where to put his hands or his gaze. “But I want you to answer one question for me first.”

He nods rapidly, spreading his knees further for you as if to remind you there’s other places he could be fucked.

“Why did you think I was going to punish you today?”

You’ve asked this question paraphrased a dozen times, usually when you both know the answer: he came without asking, or he came by himself, or any of the dozen reasons Dieter liked to push your buttons, only for you to break him as far as he can go. But today, there’s no sultry edge, no double meaning. Your question is sincere and it takes him a moment to understand. He swallows as his eyebrows tug down on his forehead, something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before a look of uncertainty crosses his face.

“We’ve never had sex just to have sex.” He says it like a question. He settles into the floor one hand going behind his head, the linear tattoo on his forearm dark like a third eye. “Not that I’m complaining but it’s always a competition, or because we’re bored, or you wanna work out some personal shit because of the costume department. I know this is my reward, but I figured there had to be some kinda catch to it.”

You frown deeper than him. “There’s no way we haven’t had normal sex.”

Something like a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Define normal sex.”

Now it’s your turn to go warm across the cheeks. “I mean, like . . . outside of . . . our roles. Where there aren’t roles at all. It’s just . . .”

You break off for the third time, the look in his eyes forcing you to snap your mouth shut before you say something incriminating like, just us.

Dieter shakes his head. “No, we haven’t.”

“You’re telling me in six months, that’s never happened once?” You adjust on your heels and cross your arms. “It’s not like you can remember every time we’ve had sex.”

“I do.” This, coming from him, is not a question. It’s an irrefutable statement that you don’t seem able to refute with a no you don’t. There is no room for arguing.

Driving right on through the heat of your cheeks, that ache returning, you shake your head. “Then doesn’t that get old? Having to play games every single time?”

Dieter pouts as he thinks, eyes on the roof of the trailer. “Sometimes, but I don’t mind. Not enough to want to stop fucking you.”

“So, after a week of nothing, you were totally willing to let me edge you within an inch of your life? Let me treat you badly?”

Dieter smirks and it suddenly feels like you’re the one under him. “Sure, but you like me too much to keep it going for too long. And you like watching me come.”

Your teeth grind together at this very bold accusation, your entire face blazing. Weren’t you supposed to be domming him today??

His feet slide out beside you and Dieter is the very picture of arrogance, his arm still tucked behind his head. He drums his fingers on his stomach.

“If it makes you feel any better,” he says, the smirk around his mouth soft, “I like you too.”

It doesn’t. Not really. Not when his words spear through you hot and hard, landing in your chest like a landmine. Fuck.

Fuck.

“Oh, so this is all for me, then?” You ignore the fact that you’ve slipped back into your role in active defiance of talking about this anymore, and crawl forward until your forearms frame his head. That teasing contentment fades from his face as he watches you, eyes following a line that only he can see from your nose, lips, chin, throat and tits. Your hair slips off your shoulder, darkening the light on his face when you straddle his waist. “But what about you? Don’t you want to come?”

He nods, slower than before, but only to keep from breaking eye contact with you. Light as feathers, Dieter trails his fingers up the backs of your thighs, over the curve of your ass, to settle into your hips. His mouth parts in anticipation, pink tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip.

“I do,” he says, rolling his neck as if he can see more of you this way. “I really fuckin’ do.”

“What a coincidence.” You shift down, dragging the wet patch on the emerald green underwear beneath your drooling cunt, shift until it slides across his half-hard cock and Dieter’s hands dig into your hips, a groan breaking off in the back of his throat. His eyes slip half-closed, a thick, smoky black enveloping that beautiful brown. “So do I.”

Grinding down over so slightly, you roll your hips once more – Dieter tenses, his hands easing to the tops of your thighs – before sitting back on his knees.

“Now relax, baby, you’ve earned it.”

You drop forward over his hips, open your mouth, and slurp him up between your lips.

The noise that comes out of his chest is broken, knocked loose, split down the middle. You take him all in one, down until your nose is tickled by his coarse hairs, and you swallow. He is immediately, instantly, rock hard and dribbling. You swallow again and his hands dive into your hair, knotting the strands around his fingers, the way a rider draws up the reins of his horse. He goads you down with just gentle pressure, needy and demanding all at once, and you take him, and you take him, and you take him until the blunt head prods the back of your throat and you gag, throat constricting, and Dieter’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Shit, that’s too fucking good.”

You breathe out your nose, pulling up just enough to keep him off your reflex, but instead you hollow out your cheeks and suck, tongue pressing up against him and around that hammering vein.

And here, here comes the sound you’ve wanted from him all night –

Dieter whines, high and keening, his neck straining, your skull pinching from where he pulls. Between your thighs, the emerald green is completely ruined, buffed out dark in the wet.

The vein throbs again and you nearly drop onto your elbows, not caring if you choke or drown or sputter, you want him in your mouth, you want that salty, gooey taste of him that you find you can’t seem to lick up enough. You want him inside you –

With a grunt that morphs into a groan as it rises up his chest, he tugs hard enough on your hair that the pain splits your mouth open, head tugged back enough that he slips out of you, a thread of pre-cum from your puffy lips to the tip of his blunt head.

You lied. This wasn’t entirely for him.

You can feel your lips twist into a snarl. “Dieter, what are you –,”

He kisses you with such a force, that noise in his chest is transferred to yours, a collision that sparks a causal nexus and his own desperation bleeds with your own. The kiss is messy, dizzying, spit and pre-cum smearing across swollen lips and wet tongues. He twists his fingers deeper into your hair, as if he can consume you through the bowl of your skull.

Your name is something that tumbles, falls, drips from him, his mouth tilted a fraction of an inch away from yours. Eyes dark, full, a beast that howls for the moon in your eyes.

He’s going to fuck your brains out on the floor of this rickety-ass trailer.

Dieter tugs you forward, drags you onto your knees over him as he settles beneath you. Your fingers knock with his in a fight to reach your panties first, to shove them down your hips and thighs, get them to the floor.

Dieter’s flushed, pupils dark, big hands grappling against the weight of you as he pulls you onto him. You are so aroused, so sunken into the smoke of lust, you go as you are moved, his cock smearing apart your wet pussy. Dieter sits up, eyes locking onto where you’ve nearly become a single creature, and then he hesitates.

Sanity seems to ring his bell, for just a moment. Without waiting, he sucks two fingers into his mouth, coating them with his spit, and you can see what he’s about to do just before he moves. You shake your head, knees aching from carrying your weight against the flat trailer floor, and sit up off him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Don’t need it,” you mutter before licking into his mouth. He drops his head back to let you sink your tongue between his lips. Both hands wrapped around his jaw, you thumb his earring and he grunts out the side of his mouth. “I want –,”

His big hands settle and it’s like he dropped a thousand pound weight between your ribs. You drop, right onto him, his cock forcibly shoving you apart in a single thrust. Dieter barks out a moan, his hands clutching your spine, teeth going for your shoulder to muffle anything else that threatens to escape him.

You swear your nerves are on fire.

He always takes his time with you, for your benefit, and his. He can be maddening and incessant and demanding, right up until this part, the part where he could actually hurt you. Right then, he waits. Lets you come to him. Let you take as much as you want and he holds you tight.

But this, this is you taking all you want and then some.

In the split second you allow for your bodies to recognize the give and the take, the swell and the invasion, you meet his gaze.

No roles. No games. No landmines.

Exposure.

Blistering and brittle.

Safety.

You curl your toes underneath you, grip his shoulders, and slide up on an inhale. On an exhale, you thrust down and you don’t know who cries out louder.

Dieter pulls you to him, arm banded around your back, the other to balance as he leans back to meet your downward strokes with his upward thrusts. His fingers pinch the clasp of your bra and the straps slide off your shoulders, your frantic bouncing knocking those emerald cups loose.

“Oh, yeah, oh fuck yeah.” He mouths at your collarbone, tonguing the sweat that blooms across your skin. Your short huffs have your chest trembling, a shudder disrupting your breath when he uses the blunt edge of his teeth against the soft curve of your breast. His nose against your skin, he turns his head and licks your nipple into his mouth. He sucks, licks, your rapid rise and fall catching your sensitive peak against the tops and bottoms of his teeth. He uses the barest hint of pressure and your back arches. He sucks your other nipple into his mouth, repeating that same pattern with his tongue, while his fingers flick your hardened bud.

You think you’re going to melt, fracture and ooze into this hot pool of pleasure that hums between your legs.

“Fuck, Dieter,” your own voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high, cut short every time his hips meet yours in a harsh slap, “I can’t –,”

He rubs up against something truly devastating inside of you and immediately your legs give out. You topple into him, arms around his neck, nose pressed up against his jaw. You feel his overheated skin, a balm, a solidifying force, against your cheek. The whirling inferno in your head soothes. A drop of sweat from his hairline trails down by your eye and you lick it.

“Make me come, Dieter,” you whisper for him, of him, beg in a way that only he can hear. You nuzzle his earring and he keens. “Please – I need it – n-n-need you.”

Open-mouthed, breath hot, flush down to his chest, he slithers the hand against your back between your warm bodies and finds your clit. Drags his thumb across it as his hips pound up into you – you can’t hear what he says in your ear, the edge you’re dangling over loud and pulsing – and then there’s a softness against your throat.

The white spark between your thighs erupts and you come so hard you scream. A release. Controlled and contained brightness now spilling out everywhere, you can feel it as you soak his lap. It drips and winds down, and it drunkenly slides off you. Finally, you curl into him, a muddled tingle radiating out across your nerves.

You sink into your skin again and hear him, still whispering, still talking.

“You’re so fucking beautiful when you come it’s okay baby I’ve got you I’ve got you I’m here – I’m gonna – g-gonna – oh, shit,”

His hips thrust up one more time before a full body shudder yanks his words and the air right out of his mouth. You melt as his cum floods your insides, the warm pulses intoxicating in the place he so forcefully claimed for his own. His shoulders curved towards you, his hand pinches the knot of your spine as if to steady himself, palm scalding against your skin. In your exhaustion, your sweaty forehead falls against his.

He doesn’t seem to mind.

Seconds mold into minutes, minutes into maybe hours then days.

Dieter’s trembling elbow finally weakens and with his arm around your back, he tips you both backwards.

His cock rubs up inside of you in a new way and your cunt clenches involuntarily. You both groan when his cum leaks out of you, squeezed out by the contraction. You shift your hips to lay fully on him, and his cock slides out, but his arm around you remains.

It remains long after your breathing settles, long after the sweat dries and your exposed skin grows cold. The longer you lay together, the more you feel he’s going to start stroking you, touching you in a way that a fuck buddy shouldn’t. But he doesn’t. He keeps you close but doesn’t move.

The feeling, the ache in your chest. It’s soothed and hastened by the beating of his heart beneath yours, your ear lying flat against his chest. It beats so loudly for you.

For some unfathomable reason, you glance up at the window. It’s dark out, the sun set and gone. For all you know, you two might be the only two people on the entire lot.

“Dieter.” His name sticks in your mouth. “Dieter, I –,”

“Five stars?”

You blink, lifting your head for the first time in ages, sweat on his skin almost suctioning your ear to his chest. He’s grinning, curls matted and damp against his forehead.

He reaches up to the table behind him and snags that stupid bingo card, along with that packet of shiny gold star stickers.

This feeling, you can contain it.

For now.

Smirking down at him, you peel off one of the bigger stars and with your thumb, you press it into the center of his forehead.

“Five stars, Dieter. Five star dick.”

His smile widens.

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #the bubble fanfic #the bubble 2016 #the bubble fic #the bubble fanfiction #pedro pascal #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x oc #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfic #the bubble

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jinnie-ret · 4 months

Text

perfect places

lee know x reader

genre: fluff

content warnings: alcohol, smoking

word count: 1.1k

summary: y/n never thought she'd be talking to a stranger til the sun rose, but it was better than feeling trapped at the local bar

This is a bit shit but oh well haha

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

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She really couldn't be bothered for a night out clubbing tonight. If you asked her a couple of years ago then she'd be up for it any day of the week, but now, she much preferred a cosy night indoors, wallowing about not knowing what to do with her life over a warm hot chocolate.

Well, she could do without the wallowing, but that was besides the point. Forced to go out clubbing with her friends, she was not designated driver, for none of them drove there, but she was designated responsible adult. She didn't know what she preferred more, drinking so she actually enjoyed herself, or not having to feel sick the next morning.

The bassy music was loud, and regretfully, she and her friends had only been there for about half an hour now. She knew this because she checked her phone.

"Y/N, outside!" her friends shouted over the music to her, all of them holding hands and connecting a chain to make it outside to the smoking area.

Ah, a moment of peace. A break for the ears.

Y/N rustled through her handbag for a cigarette before cursing when she realised she didn't have a lighter.

"Shit!" she huffed, rolling her eyes and leaning back against the wall, before her prayers were answered and a handsome guy stood in front of her with exactly what she needed.

"Need a light?" the guy smirked at her frustrated expression before offering her his lighter, curiously decorated with cat stickers.

"You're a Saint," Y/N exaggerated, gratefully taking the object and lighting her cigarette.

"Far from it, I'm Minho," he introduced himself, laughing lightly as the girl in front took a relieved sigh after a puff.

"I don't know I think I've seen that name in the bible somewhere," Y/N joked, happy to be talking to someone sober even if she was exhausted.

"Yeah, yeah," Minho laughed, "what's brought you out tonight then? Normally all the girls here end up off their faces hammered."

"You'd have to at a place like this. 'HooBAEs' is an awful name and an even more awful place," Y/N scrunched her nose whilst nodding back at the dodgy neon light. "Only good thing about it is the cheap drinks."

"Not taking advantage of them tonight then?" Minho quirked a brow, joining her in leaning against the wall as he smoked from his own cigarette, tilting his head back to look at her.

"Nah, I'm DRA. Designated Responsible Adult," Y/N sighed, looking over at her friend's who were drunkenly giggling and mingling with a group of boys that seemed their age.

"Tell me about it, I'm on NONSS duty. No one night stand shenanigans," Minho laughed, following where her eyes were looking.

They must be his friends.

"Awfully specific," Y/N commented.

"Very," Minho took another drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out. "I'm bored, wanna ditch this place and-"

"Oh I'm not looking for that tonight. You're very nice but-" Y/N blushed, looking away from Minho.

"Woah, woah, hold your horses, you didn't let me finish. You do flatter yourself," he chuckled before standing on front of her, "what about we leave babysitting duty for tonight and find somewhere else to chat?"

"Hmmm, ok," Y/N shrugged and nodded, watching her intoxicated friends stumble back inside to the chamber of doom. Ok, maybe that was an exaggeration but it really was the last place she wanted to be right now.

They walked for five minutes, peacefully taking in the night time air as Minho led them to a bench that overlooked the town.

"Wow, it's so peaceful," she glanced across at the little lights that lined the buildings.

"Better than that bar, right?" Minho nodded, taking a seat on the bench and patting the space next to him for Y/N to sit down.

"Want another?" Y/N passed a cigarette to Minho and they both proceeded to light them and sit in the quiet night air. "You know, I've never felt so calm before, it's so relaxing here."

"I come here all the time. It's a good place to think," Minho said as he stared out at the stars. He'd never felt so comfortable around a stranger but some reason he felt compelled to talk to Y/N.

"What do you like to think about?" Y/N leant back in the bench, tilting her head to the right to look at Minho.

"I try to think about what I wanna do in life," Minho sighed, "my parents wanted me to become a lawyer."

"Oh, booo, well, some like it but I couldn't," Y/N shook her head, "my parents wanted me to become a doctor, but all I wanna do is work with cats," she took another drag from her cigarette.

"I love cats too," Minho said, flicking the flame on his lighter on and off.

"Couldn't tell," Y/N laughed sarcastically looking at the cat stickers on the item.

Minho giggled shyly to himself as he rubbed his thumb across the stickers of his cats. The two them ended up chatting til sunrise basking in each other's company.

"Here, give me your phone," Y/N bravely and uncharacteristically spoke up, taking Minho's phone as he gave it to her with a raised eyebrow, leant back in the bench with his arms folded behind his head.

"Oh, you've got a text from 'Quokka' and it very drunkenly says... Hyung, where are you, Prince is off the rails," Y/N handed his phone back to him after putting her phone number in on it.

"Oh shit," Minho's eyes widened.

"Oh shit indeed, I swear Prince was dead, although that could just be your drunk Quokka friend-"

"We better get back, come on," Minho hurried her as they headed back to the bar, and when they got back, they saw all their friends stumbling out of the club.

"Hyungggg!" a guy waved Minho over.

"Y/Nnie!!!" her friends cheered her over.

"Where's Hyunjin?"

"Where's Minji?"

"Oh they went to f-"

"They left early."

"Come on, let's get you home," Minho grabbed who Y/N assumed was his Quokka friend by the arm.

"I better get you both home," Y/N sighs and gets her two friends to start walking with her.

"I'll text you!" Minho calls over his shoulder with a smirk, knowing full well that Y/N had put her number in his phone.

Y/N turned around with a shy smile, waving as Minho got his friend into a taxi as she did the same thing. They had met by chances but hopefully things would go somewhere, who knew she'd meet someone and like them instantly. Perhaps it was worth it coming out that night.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

top listeners: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist

#skz #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #skz angst #straykids imagines #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz fic #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #minho x reader #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #minho fluff

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ashwhowrites · 1 year

Note

Hello! If you’re still taking requests for Eddie and cheerleader reader, could I request reader decorating his locker? A big football or basketball game coincides with a big night for hellfire so like all of the other cheerleaders who are decorating their jock boyfriends’ lockers, reader decides that Eddie’s needs to be decorated as well :)

This is absolutely adorable. I hold you don't mind I made this into a headcanon :)

I giggled the whole time. I love the fluff and my heart needed it 🥹 thank you so much

Y/N, a name everyone in the school knew

A senior on the cheerleading team

A sweet girl but has a very mean edge

A big lover but huge fighter

And also the freaks girlfriend

Yeah....as in Eddie Munson

A huge talk around the school

No one understands the pair

But those two were in love and it was easy to see

Y/N adored that Eddie was more into the nerdy things than sports

She may cheer, but basketball and football? Hella boring

Nothing was more entertaining than watching her man lead his hellfire club into battle

The way he loses himself in it

His sexy voice narrating the story

She honestly would record his stories to fall asleep at night, if she was crazy enough

And hellfire, she adored those boys

Loved how they protected her baby when she wasn't around

But one thing she hates about Eddie not being a jock

She misses out on all the cute couple things that the school pairs up

The football and cheerleading dance routine ( where she had to dance with a loser on the team while her boyfriend was in the stands)

Or basketball and their stupid "make a sign for your player" she didn't care to have a player, her player was on the other side of the school perfecting his campaign. And looked hot as hell doing it, she just knows

BUT!

One thing she could do....

Decorate his locker

The basketball team was going to state (woohoo)

And it was tradition to decorate the teams lockers

She still decorated a random players locker with basketball stickers and his number

But no heart in it

She had the idea to also decorate her boyfriend's locker

It was the final night of his campaign

Months and months of all of his hard work came to the big final battle

And she hated that she had to miss it

Wishing more than anything to watch how it all played out

She knows if she asked, Eddie would direct it play by play just for her

Basketball Is going to state- blah

Her boyfriend's final campaign - now that deserved real decorations

She spent the whole night drawing the hellfire logo

Drawing all his characters

Creating stickers of the weapons his boys use

Sneaking in a few little pictures of them together- photos of their relationship and some of just him that she took

Some photos she took of hellfire mid session

Some photos of him with hellfire

And of course she printed out the yearbook photo

She may have a copy in her room for personal reasons

Little lipstick marks with her kiss on post it notes

She drove to school herself, she went early so Eddie was easily not interested

She taped up everything she made the night before

Excitement filling her stomach as she looked it over

The whites, reds, and blacks all blended perfectly

The pictures fit perfectly

Her kiss marks taped to make the shape of a heart

The stickers she made scattered around

EDDIE MUNSON <3 written in her red lipstick across the bottom

She was proud and knew he was going to love it

"damn, poor Brandon. He got like two basketballs and his number" Chrissy teased as she passed the locker

"is it too much?" Now she was worried

Maybe her boyfriend wouldn't like all the attention on him

"god no. You two are literally the it couple of this school. He's going to love it" Chrissy reassured her, both heading their side of the school where their lockers were

Eddie Munson hated school

He had bullies who made it hell

Then he fell in love with her

And she had no problem telling people where exactly they can go if they are mean to him

Walking into school he wasn't shocked to see people looking at his locker

He spent many days cleaning the mean words off of the metal during classes

It was like a show for everyone. Let's all see what's written on the freaks locker today!

Eddie sighed and walked closer

"excuse me" he shoved himself through the crowd

But froze when his eyes landed on it

It was decorated for sure

But it wasn't painful to see

He actually felt himself blushing as he looked it over

Moving closer to trail his fingers over the photos

Smiling as he remembered every single memory

Smirking to himself when his fingers traced the post it notes with her kiss on it

His name written in his favorite shade of lipstick

"awww look at what your little girlfriend did" Dustin awed

Eddie blushed deeper and shoved his shoulder, "zip it"

"and he looooooves it because he looooooves her" Gareth teased, making kissing noises

Eddie rolled his eyes but a smile was on his face

Pushing Gareth's head into the locker

He noticed the jocks sending glares his way

He knew he had a target on his back dating her

Everyone wanted her

And they didn't like that they lost to someone like him

He flipped them the finger as they stared

Eddie couldn't keep the smile off of his face all day

Making up random excuses to why he needed to stop at his locker after every class

He also snatched one of the kiss marks off the locker - keeping it in his wallet

When the day ended, he was kinda sad

He didn't want to leave it at all

"do you want me to decorate your closet door at home baby?" She appeared out of nowhere

Wrapping her arms around her boyfriend from behind

"you don't have to...." He said, trailing off

"okay baby. I'll bring over my supplies after the game and after your amazing campaign"

Eddie may have struggled through life

But he got rewarded for it

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @slightlyvicked @micheledawn1975@ago-godance@magnificantmermaid

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson request #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanon

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theloveinc · 1 year

Text

bakugo + february

(warning: gn i think? kinda shitty world building😖, a lil angst, happy valentine’s day!!!!!)

“This is the third box of chocolates in this bin alone.”

You throw the frilly, silver package onto a large pile of red cardboard and ribbon, on top of another box of neatly wrapped sweets. Some of the gifts with sappy, little valentines written on top, others with pink and white sticky notes.

Bakugo huffs with a pout and an eye roll, in his own hands a stack of rainbow cards he flips through quickly.

“That’s funny.”

You don’t look at him, just continue to paw around in the bin in front of you. You pull out a dark brown teddy bear, it’s fur soft in your hands, and turn to plop it in the pile of things he said that you could keep: stickers, fake flowers, toys.

“Why?”

You don’t even glance at him as you say it, like it doesn’t matter, and he picks at a bit of lace falling off of a large greeting card and snorts.

“Not like I ever got any of this kinda crap in high school.”

You stop your rifling to stare at him, your expression so different than from moments before. “You didn’t get any fan mail in high school?”

You assume he did, at least: he was just as cute back then as he is now… you’ve seen the pictures of that blonde boy, smaller, still scowling, but still any teenager’s dream. He was working as a hero by then, surely he had some sort of fan club.

(You would’ve been amongst them if you had known. Now he’s professional, though, and you only met him through Jirou when you transferred from her team to his.)

“I didn’t get any…” he pauses, his face twisting in a frown, his cheeks going the slightest bit ruddy. “Chocolates and shit. Letters.”

“Katsuki…” he grunts but doesn’t look, your tone incredulous in a way he doesn’t want to address. “You were never confessed to?”

He blows out an angry raspberry, picking up and throwing a bottle of nicely-labeled hot sauce into his own keep pile. It clinks with the rest.

“Don’t fucking rub it in.”

“I’m not!” you try to assure, reaching out for him. “I’m just… a little surprised, is all.”

He glares, wordless and accusatorially, like your giggles are threatening and the vacuum sealed pair of panties you teasingly wave in the air (and he snatches, immediately trashing) are nuclear.

“…’cuz I would’ve thought you got tons. Like now, big boy.”

He turns even more pink. As pink as half the mail room has become with all the love notes sent in for February.

“Yeah, well,” Bakugo tries to move on, grimacing as he picks up a plain envelope that he initially had high hopes for and unfolds it into a long, love poem. “Can’t win ‘em all, I learned.”

And as you throw another box of store-bought chocolates onto the stack, you think you know what you want to get him for Valentine’s Day.

#bakugo #bakugou x reader #yes I wrote this on Christmas LMFAO #or most of it #inspired by these horrible handmade chocolates I made #that were so freaking ugly #someone told me they were good tho #anyway pardon me I’m still in bed #I’ll give better Valentine’s Day wishes after class maybe #also uhhhhhhhhh #u know what this made me think of ?#that trend that’s like ‘would we have dated in high school?’#I just imagine Bakugo getting all blushy and saying yes #and ur like ‘u freaking liar u were so wrapped up back then’#and he’s all mad at u for denying it #lmfaoooo me at. my high school having a super bad time #ANYWAY I just think like #who the h*ll woulda confessed to Bakugo ever in his younger years?#surely it’s a soft spot #ANYWAY #HAPPY VALENTINES DAY MY BABIWA #BABIES*****#bye.#ps…#I forget what and which white day is #caitie post #gen

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obscure-imaginations · 2 years

Text

How the Skeleton Crew shows their love.

CW for mentions of smoking cigarettes, on Stretch’s part.

Classic (Undertale Sans): Bad jokes, mainly puns about the current situation. Offering to share his food. Physical contact- hand holding, cuddling, falling asleep with either you on top of him, or him on top of you. Finding a rock you might like and bringing it home. Sending you memes.

Vanilla (Undertale Papyrus): Cooking for you. Words of affirmation. Inviting you to work out with him, even if you’re on the bench just watching. Holding things for you- jacket, bags, sunglasses, etc (give this boy a purse and he will rock it). Studying your favorite media so you can talk to him about it.

Red (Underfell Sans): Once you get past his defenses, physical contact! Bringing home food from wherever he went. Making the both of you in the Sims. Playing 2 player games with you, or one of you plays a game and the other watches. Making you a playlist.

Edge (Underfell Papyrus): Picking you up “to show how strong I am!” Making pasta from scratch. Checking your SOUL once in a while to make sure you’re not injured in any way. Doing your makeup/hair/nails for you, or making sure you’re not a fashion disaster before walking out the door. Buying you accessories he thinks you’d like.

Blue (Underswap Sans): Cooking for you and sharing it. Learning to make your favorite dessert. Words of affirmation- showing you off to other people. Making sure you’ve taken any medicine you need, you’ve eaten and drank water today, had a moment to rest, etc. Sending you cat memes, especially the same strain as “I can haz cheezburger?” (He genuinely finds them funny.).

Stretch (Underswap Papyrus): Memes, 24/7. Watching shows together. Offering you a lollipop if you don’t smoke, or offering a cigarette if you do. Writing hearts with a marker on your hands. Also sending cat memes, but they’re actually good.

Butch (Mafiafell Sans): Cuddling! Bringing you coffee/tea, brewed fresh. Humming when you’re cuddling in bed, so it lulls you to sleep. Kissing the back of your hand. Making sure his work never comes near you.

Noir (Mafiafell Papyrus): Words of affirmation- leaving notes of what he’s too embarrassed to say. Making sure your favorite foods are always stocked in the pantry/fridge. Holding open doors and pulling out chairs for you. Finding the best champagne to share, or if you don’t drink, the best juice he can find. Making sure his work never even knows about you (except for Butch, and maybe Madame (Mafiafell Toriel), so she can keep an eye on you).

Bonus!

Ash (Bonely Hearts Club’s Horrortale Sans): Buying plants for you, even if they die in a day. Soft touches, gently brushing your hair back while looking lovingly into your eyes. Sitting in comfortable silence with you. Making your favorite drink on cold mornings, and your favorite cold drink on hot days. Letting you water his plants without strict supervision.

Poplar (Bonely Hearts Club’s Horrortale Papyrus): Painting you pictures, whether simple or huge canvases. Buying you stickers. Helping you grocery shop (stay away from the pasta aisle!). Leaving you encouraging notes. More of a trust thing, but on days he needs his wheelchair, he’ll let you push.

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sailor-peeking · 2 years

Text

A list of things I learned about Robin Buckley while listening to the prequel podcast about her (spoilers...duh) :

Robin has an emotional support English teacher named Mr. Hauser who runs the theater department

Robin auditioned for a play and almost passed out embarrassing herself.

Robin Buckley is an avid reader reading books way above her grade level but performing as a b average student on purpose.

Robin dreams of running away and has sinced elementary school.

Robin is a big fan of Frankenstein and believes that in the book Dr. Frankenstein is the real monster for playing God.

Robin's dream is to go on a vacation to France (she calls it operation croissant.)

and then move out of Hawkins entirely.

For Halloween Robin was Annie Lennox for Halloween, 1983.

Robin notices that Tammy Thompson smells like raspberries and she mentions that it reminds her of the scented stickers she collected as a child

Robin is nearly fluent in French and has picked up Italian by the time she is a sophomore.

Robin dreams of learning Russian (ironic.)

Robin was friends with Barb until the 6th grade when Barb joined a club with Nancy and they fell out of contact

Robin has 2 friends (term used lightly) named Kate and Milton.

Robin says that her parents aren't really parents they're more like "domesticated hippies" they never really ask her about anything

Robin was banned from riding her bike to school after what happened with Barb and Will. And instead has to take the bus (where she is harassed verbally)

Robin says even her teacher looks at Steve "as if his hair cured cancer."

Robin doesn't particularly like Nancy.

Robin worked at the Movie theater before scoops ahoy

Robin refers to her friends as "the odd squad ™"

Robin feels like she's broken, like there's something "wrong" or "rotten." About her

A boy named Roy makes Lewd comments to Robin that make her uncomfortable

Robin compares Steve to Jack from Lord of the Flies.

Robin likes the outsider's book.

Robin's friends boyfriend Dash thinks she's in a relationship/sleeping with her English teacher.

Robin really enjoys being able to leave her math class early for the cafeteria cookies while they're hot.

Robin's English teacher is Gayyyyy✨🌈🌈🌈🌈 (And Barb is an 🌈✨Ally ✨🌈)

Robin pulled the fire alarm to frame her friends boyfriend for trying to get Hauser fired

Robin was working the day Steve cleaned up the graffiti at the movie theater.

Robin refers to Hawkins society as "the monster™"

The first time Robin talks to Tammy Thompson was the day before Christmas break her sophomore year

Robin and Hauser refer to their homosexuality as "the slip of paper with a black dot" in reference to the short story "the lottery"

#sailor says something dumb #Robin Buckley #stranger things #stranger things spoilers #rebel robin #rebel robin: surviving hawkins #Steve Harrington #mr Hauser #nancy wheeler #barb holland #tammy thompson #stranger things x reader #robin buckley x reader

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moonchildreads · 7 months

Text

small town

Chapter 23 - Cum on Feel the Noize

IN THIS CHAPTER: Yearbook messages, unlikely friendships, and Corroded Coffin puts on a show [13.8k]

WARNINGS: mentions of dead parents (eddie's mom), child neglect (not very graphic, eddie as kid), underaged drinking (no one gets drunk), low self-worth

A/N: i know. i promise you, i know. but i did say i was never gonna abandon this fic, so if you didn't believe me, that's on you, buddy. blame my job for my two month absence - three new people joined my team and one of those left last week, it's been hectic. this is an extra long chapter as a sorry for making you wait for so long. i hope you are all okay and still interested in my dumb little story, we have a lot more to go before we say goodbye. <3 (btw lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist!)

masterlist - prev - next | playlist

Girls, rock your boys We’ll get wild, wild, wild

Monday, June 9th - 1986

The last Monday before graduation was Kyle Foster’s most anticipated day of the year; not because it meant that school attendance was officially an afterthought for most of the school’s population, but because it was the day the overpriced yearbooks he had been working on all these months were ready to be picked up, their pages waiting to be filled with doodles in colorful pens and silly stickers. He was particularly proud of this year’s edition, with its green leatherette hardback cover and bright photos printed in glossy paper, everything on them carefully arranged by the Yearbook Club with evident care and love for their craft. For a few hours, Kyle got to feel like he was hot shit. Teachers congratulated him and his fellow club members for their wonderful work, people he’d never talked to before in his life asked him to sign their yearbooks, and the basketball team kept patting his back in the hallways in between classes to thank him for the double spread with pictures of them lifting their championship trophy. Life was good, but even though he was enjoying his surely short-lived popularity, there was only one person Kyle was particularly looking forward to seeing. As faith would have it, he found that exact guy leaning against his locker waiting for him between third and fourth period, a yearbook under his arm and a piece of minty gum in his mouth.

“Hey, man,” Eddie greeted, pulling him into a bro-ey side hug that didn’t suit his personality in the slightest. “Nice work.”

“What’s up, Munson? Heard you’re finally leaving this place.”

“Yeah, about damn time,” the tall metalhead laughed, and Kyle thought he’d never seen him carry himself with such levity before. “Wanted to thank you, y’know? I mean, I know I kinda bribed you to do it but you came through for us and went above and beyond with the design and everything, so, thank you.”

“Ah, it was nothing, dude. Couldn’t ruin the yearbook by giving your club a shitty spread,” Kyle downplayed his work, but they both knew he had enjoyed the secret assignment.

“Well, then. Would the artist care to sign his masterpiece?” Eddie joked, extending his yearbook to Kyle with a jet black pen tucked into it.

Kyle nodded, surprised by the request, and went straight to the blank pages at the back. From what he could see, no one had signed it yet. He realized then this was Eddie giving him a definitive olive branch, whatever feud they’d had over his little debt more than ready to be buried in the sand and thoroughly forgotten. He quickly penned a generic “have a good summer!” message at the top corner, slowing down while writing his name when he felt Eddie’s hand slip something into his front jean pocket. Ah, there it is, Kyle thought, smiling to himself as the weight of the small weed baggie Eddie had promised in exchange for his rule breaking could be felt through the rough fabric. He gave the book back to his newest acquaintance before opening his messenger bag and retrieving his own, shocking Eddie with his silent offering. Kyle was not only accepting his olive branch but returning the gesture, and so Eddie signed his name in a little unoccupied corner, adding a smiley face with devil horns under it for good measure.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Foster,” he said genuinely, tucking his trusty pen into his back pocket.

“Likewise, Munson.”

“We look so fucking badass,” Gareth said, eyes stuck to himself holding a knight’s helmet under his arm in the Hellfire section of the yearbook.

“I know, right?” Jeff said, giddy. “Kinda wanna get it framed. You think they’ll give us copies if we ask?”

The Hellfire Club was enjoying a peaceful lunch outside, the day still perfectly warm despite the constant clouds that perpetually obscured the sky over Hawkins, Indiana. The older boys were doodling on each other’s yearbooks, laughing about bad portraits and accidental funny faces belonging to classmates, while Dustin and Mike quietly muttered to one another at the head of the picnic table. They looked like they were arguing about something important but no one else seemed to have noticed - if they did, they were giving them space to resolve it on their own. Pretending like she wasn’t eavesdropping while she wrote a heartfelt message in Donny’s yearbook, Dottie listened carefully, worried about Dustin who seemed to be particularly distraught at Mike’s disinterest in cooperating with him.

“I’m just saying, aren’t you tired of acting like you’re still upset with him?” Dustin asked.

“I’m not acting, I am pissed off,” Mike huffed. “I don’t get why you aren’t. He cut us off and he’s never coming back, get it through your head.”

“Well, maybe he feels like we cut him off. Have you even tried talking to him since Spring break?”

“No, why would I?”

“Mike,” Dustin was nearing his breaking point.

“What? Did you?”

“Yes!” he threw his hands in the air. “I called him the next day because I’m not an asshole!”

“If you talked to him, why isn’t he here then, huh?” Mike asked, icy. “Why is he still hanging out with them?”

“I said I called him, not that I talked to him,” Dustin grumbled. “He wasn’t home, he… he was at a party with the jocks- Look, all I’m saying is that I feel like shit, okay? I think we’re all being idiots right now and we should talk about it. This is just like what happened when we found El and-”

“This is nothing like what happened with El. He was just scared-”

“We were twelve, Mike. We didn’t know what we were doing, maybe- maybe he was right and we should have been scared! And maybe he shouldn’t have to be the one to always apologize first!”

“He ditched us!”

“Oh, grow up,” Dustin said, getting up from the bench with his yearbook in hand and hurrying to catch up with a redheaded girl who looked about his age.

Dottie watched how Mike gathered his things and disappeared into the cafeteria without saying goodbye, giving off moody teenager vibes to anyone who dared to cross his path. Meanwhile, Dustin was now animatedly chatting with his mystery friend near the doors - the girl he was talking to was signing his book and rolling her eyes at something he was saying, a shy but still clearly fond smile on her face. Dottie felt like she’d seen her before somewhere, but never talking to Dustin. She seemed nice, if a little sassy. I guess that’s why she’s friends with Dustin, she thought.

“Really? You got him a sweater? In June?” Jeff’s laughter brought back her attention to the table: she quickly doodled a little daisy next to her name at the bottom of her message and gave the yearbook back to Donny.

“He’s always wearing sweaters at the office, okay? And also, it’s not like he’s gonna grow two sizes before Winter starts,” Gareth defended himself. “It’s still gonna fit him in a couple of months.”

“What are we talking about?” Dottie asked, leaning her head onto Eddie’s shoulder as he stole one of her apple slices.

“Father’s Day. Gareth got his Dad a wool sweater.”

“It was on sale!”

“What did you get for your dad, then?” she asked Jeff.

“New slippers. His old ones were falling apart.”

“Very thoughtful. You?” she turned to Donny.

“Nothing yet. I kinda wanna get my Dad a funny shirt but I haven’t seen any good ones around. D’you think it’s too late to get one printed?” he asked at large.

“Oh, Eddie bought a cute one the other day!” Dottie said conversationally, looking up at the long haired boy from her place on his shoulder. “They had a bunch of graphic shirts at that store near Melvald’s, right?”

“On Mulberry? Sweet, what did you get?” Donny asked, munching on some grapes.

“Found this ugly thing with a brown Care Bear at the front that says World’s Best Grandma,” Eddie said, half a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. “Thought it was funny.”

“You’re gonna get your teeth kicked in if you wear a Care Bears shirt in public, dude,” Gareth snickered.

“Well, good thing I’m not gonna be the one wearing it then.”

Father’s Day was historically somewhat of a weird day for Eddie. When he was a little kid and still hadn’t developed a mouth filter, other moms at the park or strangers at a store would sometimes see him wandering around unsupervised, think he was lost, and ask him where his Mom was; he’d always reply with a simple “oh, no, my Mom is dead”, like the answer wasn’t absolutely devastating to hear coming from someone who hadn’t learned how to tie his own shoes yet. Like clockwork, they’d all sputter out an awkward apology, feeling sorry about unknowingly asking a young child about something so painful like losing a parent at such a tender age. A couple of times some of them went so far as to offer to buy him a snack, as if that could distract him from the tragedy of his Mom’s untimely death and, in turn, make themselves feel better about being nosy. Eddie, however, didn’t mind the questions. He liked telling people that Maureen was dead, because he learned very quickly that those were the only times people saw him as someone to take care of; just a little innocent boy having to grow up without the woman who’d loved him most, instead of shunning him as soon they inevitably found out he was Wyatt Munson’s devil spawn.

Another thing Eddie learned very early on, was that his Dad didn’t care about Father’s Day, mainly because most of the time he didn’t even care to acknowledge he had a son unless it was useful to him. And so, after the second year in a row Wyatt threw into the trash can the crafts Eddie had done for him at school without so much as looking at them, the drawings stayed in his backpack and the treats the teachers gave to all their kiddos to gift to the most important men in their lives got hidden in an old shoe box underneath his bed. There they waited until the older man passed out on his couch with a beer in his hand, and the littlest Munson got to eat them in secret without anyone calling him a pig for smearing chocolate all over his face and fingers. No, Father’s Day had always been a weird day for Eddie - at least until he moved in with Wayne.

The first Father’s Day Wayne and Eddie spent together came after almost eight months of living together. There had been a Halloween, a Thanksgiving, a Christmas, Eddie’s 9th birthday, and a Mother’s Day spent along with Grandma before that, but Eddie’s little stomach still churned with the thought of Wayne dismissing him on a special occasion like Father’s Day. He quietly waited in bed after the sun rose, ears perked up for any noise coming from the living room but the minutes ticked by and Wayne didn’t get up, busy catching up on some much needed sleep after a long week at the plant. The youngest Munson impatiently crept along the hallway until he reached his Uncle’s side, kneeling on the carpet next to his fold-out bed and observing his chest go up and down with each breath he took.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie whispered, but the older man didn’t so much as flinch. “Uncle Wayne,” he tried a little louder, softly shaking his arm.

“Huh?” Wayne opened his eyes, startled to find his nephew’s tiny fingers wrapped around his forearm. “What’s going on? You okay, Ed?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, wild curls bobbing along with the movement. “I- I made something. At school.”

“Yeah? What d’you got there?”

Eddie lifted a piece of paper, the sun filtering through the moth-eaten curtains helping Wayne read along. Happy Father’s Day, said the handmade card written by a teacher and decorated by his nephew, each letter colored inside with a different crayon. Wayne’s heart sank when he realized he’d forgotten what day it was. He didn’t even know which hole Wyatt was currently being kept in, but he guessed he could call his Ma and ask her about it if Eddie wanted to pay his Dad a visit. Or at the very least, he could take the kid to the post office to mail his shitty excuse of a father a letter he most likely didn’t give a damn about. Wyatt hadn’t called once since he’d gotten himself locked up, and Wayne tried not to think too much about Eddie stiffening up whenever the phone rang when he first moved into the trailer with him. He didn’t want to do it, didn’t want to have jackshit to do with his little brother anymore but he’d do it anyway even if he knew it was a bad idea, because Wayne Munson would have walked barefoot to the end of the world if it made Eddie happy, and God only knew that that boy deserved a small mercy for once.

Wayne peeled the card open curiously and felt his chest tighten up when he saw how wrong he’d been. Inside there was a crude drawing of two figures, one bigger than the other one: it was him and Eddie, standing on bright green grass, a big yellow sun with a smiley face at the upper left corner of the page, and a tree with juicy red apples to the right side. The figures were holding hands and Wayne was wearing a trucker hat - the same blue one that was resting on the kitchen counter next to his keys. At the bottom right of the card, written with the nicest calligraphy Wayne had seen from his nephew yet, was a simple I love you in purple crayon.

“You drew this for me?” Wayne asked, trying to get his emotions together.

“D’you like it? Miss Mullins gave us Hershey’s Kisses too,” he lifted a little paper bag that looked like it had been squished in transit. “I’m sorry I ate one without asking. I wanted to know what they tasted like, but I can buy you more! I have money left over from my birthday-”

“That’s okay, Ed. You can have as many as you want if you brush your teeth after,” the eldest Munson sat up tiredly and pulled his boy from the floor into a hug. “Thank you for the card. You’re very good at drawing, y’know that?”

“Miss Mullins says I’m good at art and music,” Eddie beamed. “And sometimes Math too but I get distracted. She says my reading’s not very good though.”

“You’re a smart boy, just keep practicin’ and you’ll get better,” Wayne said, feeling his nephew’s body sink into his arms the longer he held him. “Hey, how ‘bout you go get ready while I take a shower, huh? We can go get pancakes at Benny’s.”

“Really? Can I get whipped cream on mine? And chocolate chips?”

“You can get whatever you want, boy. Go on, go get dressed,” the older man ushered him down the hallway towards what used to be his bedroom and locked himself in the bathroom for a little privacy.

Wayne cried in the shower that day, much like he’d done after Thanksgiving dinner, when Eddie said he was thankful he got to live with him, even if it was just for a little bit. He got Wyatt to sign away his parental rights before Christmas came around after that. Wayne stuck the card to the fridge door with a carrot shaped magnet and drove himself and his nephew to Benny’s where Eddie ordered chocolate chip banana pancakes that Wayne ended up eating half of after the 9-year-old’s tummy became too full to keep going. Upon returning home, they spent the rest of the day watching cartoons and practicing Eddie’s reading during the commercials. When the littlest Munson fell asleep on the couch after the sun had set, his energy finally depleted, Wayne helped him put on his pajamas and tucked him to bed, stopping to kiss his curly head before he retreated back to the living room for a nightcap.

“Good night, son,” he’d said, turning off the lights, and for once, Eddie didn’t go to sleep wishing he was Wayne’s, because he knew he was and Wayne knew it too.

“You got Wayne a World’s Best Grandma shirt for Father’s Day?” Donny said, amused. “He’s gonna think you knocked someone up.”

“Of course not,” Eddie scoffed at him like he’d just said the stupidest thing ever. “He’d think I knocked someone up if it said World’s Best Grandpa, but it doesn’t say that, does it? Therefore, funny shirt.”

“You were there with him and you let him buy it?” Jeff looked at Dottie, whose cheeks felt like they were burning upon remembering Wayne’s resigned attempt at a Birds and The Bees talk two weekends prior.

“I… I thought it was funny too,” she admitted sheepishly.

“You two are spending way too much time together,” Gareth shook his head. “When did you even go shopping?”

“Last week after band practice,” Dottie said, mischief in her eyes. “Don’t tell my Dad if you see him because I told him I was at yours all afternoon so he wouldn’t snoop around and find his gift.”

“What did you get him?” Donny asked.

“A bunch of candy and a book. The guy at the store recommended it, he said it was pretty new. It’s called Ender’s Game, I think?”

“Oh, I read that one,” Jeff said, frowning.

“What, is it bad?”

“No, I think your Dad might like it," he shrugged. "But you know me, I don't like military shit.”

“How could we forget about you being Mr. Pacifist,” Gareth poked fun at him goodnaturedly and Jeff shoved him gently in return.

“Hey, speaking of band practice,” Eddie said, lips curling upwards as he leaned into Dottie’s personal space. “You think your Dad's gonna let you come to The Hideout tomorrow?”

“On a school night? Keep dreaming.”

“Oh, come on, no one’s even taking attendance anymore,” he pressed on.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Russell took a nap in class today,” Gareth said, spreading a rumor he’d heard about the old Algebra teacher.

“He did. I was there, I heard him snore,” Donny nodded.

“There you go, darling. Not even the teachers give a shit anymore. So, what do you say?" Eddie batted his eyelashes dramatically.

"You know I wanna go, I just don't think he's gonna let me. Can't you wait one more week? He promised I won’t have a curfew anymore after graduation," she bargained.

"You say that like you don’t already know we’re gonna ask you to come next week too," Gareth said, grinning. “Besides, what kind of manager are you if you don’t come to all our shows?”

“Wasn’t aware I had signed any official contracts. Do I get health insurance?” Dottie joked.

“You get one box of kiddie bandages and we’ll drive you to the hospital if and only if any bones stick out,” Donny said.

“Wow, what a deal. I’m in,” she laughed.

“You’re gonna come then?” they all looked at her expectantly.

“Alright, fine, I’ll ask him. But if he says no you aren’t allowed to be mad at me because it’s definitely not my fault,” she finally relented.

“If he locks you up we’ll help you escape the tower, princess, don’t worry about it,” Eddie said, his breath ghosting the side of her head, and she shivered in anticipation for the new adventure that was to come.

James working past the time Hawkins High School let its students out had proven to be heaven-sent to the new couple looking for places to hang out without any prying eyes around. Eddie and Dottie were lying on her bed, hiding away from the world in her room, the radio on at a low volume playing Top 40 hits. Van Halen’s Why Can’t This Be Love was setting the perfect mood for Eddie to kiss his not-yet-girlfriend stupid - their movements still shy and exploring, neither of them rushing to get ahead of themselves. In recent days, they had progressed from chaste and giggly pecks to something much more slow and romantic, making the most of their moments alone to make each other feel comfortable and loved. Eddie hovered over her, tummy pressed against Dottie’s while supporting most of his weight on his elbows, his hands free to gently caress her cheekbones and jaw between kisses, stopping every so often to look at her dazed smile if only to will himself to believe that the girl he was so in love with was as equally smitten with him as he was with her.

Dottie let her fingers wander up his arms, one of her hands tangling in his unruly hair and occasionally pushing stray curls behind his ears to get a glimpse of those deep chocolate colored eyes she adored so much. Her other arm sneaked into his t-shirt sleeve, nails drawing barely-there patterns on the back of his shoulder, making him hum like the stray cats at the trailer park when they let him pet them after being fed. The delicate white curtains swayed calmly, brushing against the pillows in the windowsill, the gentle breeze outside rustling the leaves in nearby trees. Everything felt so peaceful, warm, and cozy. She felt like she could spend an entire lifetime like this, with the boy that had swept her off her feet so thoroughly that she almost felt like she was floating whenever he was around.

“What are you thinkin’ about?” Eddie asked in a soft voice, index finger brushing down the slope of her nose.

“You.”

“Me?”

“Mhm,” she smiled, fondly. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re pretty. Beautiful. Gorgeous even,” he lifted his eyebrows and pouted, making her giggle at his antics. “I wanted to play a song for you tomorrow but the guys said it didn’t fit with the rest of the setlist.”

“Which song was it?”

“Nope,” he shook his head, curls tickling her. “I’m not telling you. We’ll play it in Indy.”

“I have to wait a whole month? That’s so rude!”

“It’ll be worth it, you’ll see,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss her again, and she accepted his love eagerly.

The low rumble of a car pulling into the driveway burst their cozy bubble, Eddie groaning as his head fell forward onto Dottie’s shoulder, making her snort loudly. He scrambled off her bed and dropped himself on her desk chair, fingers dancing on top of her scented Mr. Sketch markers before settling on the brown one and lifting it up to his nose to smell the cinnamon embedded in the ink. She watched him with an oddly enamored smile on her face, like him sniffing her stationery supplies was the most charming thing she’d seen him do yet. He twirled a marker between his fingers before drumming with it once on her yearbook resting unassumingly on her desk.

“Can I draw something for you in here?” he asked, tapping the hardcover again with the cap of the marker.

“Can I write something sappy in yours in exchange?”

“Knock yourself out, darling,” Eddie smiled, pulling his yearbook out of his ratty backpack and tossing it onto her bed where it made a soft thud upon colliding with her comforter.

When James climbed up the stairs to greet his daughter after a long day at work, he found both teens deeply engrossed in their tasks: Eddie’s long hair was draped like a curtain obscuring his sketch from view as he worked steadily with his chewed up pencil while Dottie was lying on her front decorating a corner of a page with her colorful pens. James leaned onto the door frame when she looked up, gifting him the same smile she used to give him as a toddler when he picked her up from daycare.

“Yearbooks are out?” the eldest Burke asked, nodding towards the book in her hands.

“Yeah! Ed’s drawing in mine but look, we got a full page!” Dottie said, rising onto her knees to show him Hellfire’s spread.

James sat at the foot of her bed, glancing at the glossy pictures in front of him. He couldn’t recall Dottie being so excited about a yearbook before, but he supposed she’d never really been a part of any club at her old school and this was an important first for her. There was Dustin front and center, arms and legs bent like a lifeless puppet being held by strings, Erica’s hand poised in the air as if she was the one controlling him while Mike and Gareth lifted her up in a princess-like manner, a tiara glinting on her head and a school flag draping down her back. Jeff and Donny scowled at each other dramatically, engaged in a lethal fight that Jeff was clearly winning, his sword pressed to the middle of Donny’s golden scepter. But it was his own daughter and the boy that kept smelling markers before he put them to paper a few feet away from him that really caught his attention.

Eddie lounged on his throne with a fake skull in his hand, rings twinkling in the room’s moody light, and legs spread out like he was a despot king about to order someone’s head to be cut off. Dottie stared at the camera with a mischievous smirk, hands cradled around a crystal orb, looking like she knew something no one else did and was more than ready to drop a cryptic riddle that would ruin your entire life. They were playing characters, just like everyone else in the picture: Mike was the loyal knight, Dustin was the terrifying jester, Erica was the bratty princess. Except Eddie’s arm was curled around Dottie like she was his most prized possession, devotion noticeable in his seemingly innocent posture. He might have been the one sitting on the throne and she on the chair’s arm as his trusty advisor, but it was very much clear to anyone that stopped to truly look at them that even though he was the King, she had him wrapped around her finger. It shouldn’t have been a surprise - after all, since 1953 the song did say God save the Queen, not the King.

“It looks super cool, right?” Dottie asked, eyes shining. “Jeff wants to ask the Yearbook Club if we can get copies, I’d love to put one on my corkboard.”

“That sounds great, honey! It’s very theatrical,” James agreed, scanning down the list of names: Edward Munson - Chapter Leader, Donatello Andrea Vitale - Treasurer, Jeffrey Thomas Patton - Secretary… “Who’s Lucas?”

“Huh?”

“Lucas Charles Sinclair?” he asked. “His name is on the list but I don’t see him in the photo.”

“Oh, that’s Erica’s brother. He was in the club before I joined, right, Ed?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, lips tight. “He, uh- he quit before Spring break. Conflicting schedules.”

“Ah, that’s a bummer,” James nodded, knowing first hand how scheduling was the greatest enemy of a D&D party. “Why isn’t Erica on the list though?”

“She’s still in middle school so she’s not, like, entirely allowed to be in the club actually?” Dottie grimaced. “But Eddie thought she should at least be in the picture. I mean, I’m there and she’s known these guys for longer than I do.”

“She only joined a couple of weeks before you did,” Eddie shrugged. “But a member is a member, no matter when they joined.”

“Spoken like a true leader,” James smiled, flipping the pages to find the senior portraits.

He reached the B section and immediately found his daughter, her red knitted sweater barely visible, the picture cutting off just below her shoulders. She was smiling in it, yes, but she didn’t really look happy. She seemed nervous, perhaps even a bit apprehensive. Her eyes were dull despite the bright lights behind the camera, and the little dimple below the right corner of her lip that she’d inherited from her Mom was nowhere to be found. In comparison with the wicked witch that had been staring at him in the Hellfire Club’s group photo, this girl looked like a shell of herself. Empty. Lost. Scared. Two months had passed between the two pictures, and one more since the last one had been taken, and James realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen her glow as much as she did every day now. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked at her and wondered why he hadn’t done anything to prevent her light from dimming so much right in front of him. Bitterly, he realized the proper question wasn’t why he hadn’t done anything, but instead why hadn’t he ever noticed it had been dimmed in the first place up until that moment.

“I’m so proud of you, honey,” he muttered, pulling her into a hug and letting out a heavy sigh courtesy of his own inadequacies as a parent.

“You’re not gonna cry, are you? Because you’re gonna make me cry if you cry,” she said in a joking manner, tears already threatening to climb up to the surface.

“You’re just really big now and it sneaks up on me sometimes, that’s all. I’m getting emotional in my old age,” he laughed, turning back the pages to Hellfire Dottie - the happier Dottie. “Your hair looks really pretty like this.”

“Yeah. Feels more me, I think,” Dottie agreed. “I need to get the ends trimmed before graduation, though.”

“If it keeps getting shorter I’m afraid you’re gonna end up bald soon.”

“I’ll go to a salon this time, promise,” she laughed.

“Still can’t believe you just-” James did a cutting gesture with his index and middle fingers. “-went to town on it.”

“Wait, what? You chopped off your own hair? When?” Eddie asked curiously, reminding them both that he was listening to their conversation.

“I thought you knew about this!” Dottie said. “I had really long hair back in New York.”

“It reached the top of her jeans,” James added.

“No way! Why did you cut it?”

“I just needed a fresh start, y’know? New school, new haircut. It wasn’t that big of a deal,” she shrugged.

“Honey, you snipped it all off at the first gas station we stopped at on our way from New York. Almost gave me a heart attack when you came out of that bathroom.”

“You’re kidding,” Eddie stared at her in disbelief.

“Nope,” said James. “Had to take her to a hairdresser to even it out as soon as we got here.”

“In my defense, it didn’t look that bad. It was just… very layered,” Dottie said.

“You’re lucky you chickened out and didn’t cut it shorter or you’d be looking like a boy right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, I’m not a hair stylist. I’ll stay away from scissors and let the pros handle it next time,” she rolled her eyes at her Dad.

“Well, I’m gonna go get a shower,” James announced, returning Eddie’s yearbook to his daughter. “You staying for dinner, Ed?”

“No, thank you, sir, Wayne’s waiting for me. Just gotta finish this drawing and I’ll be out of your hair for the night,” Eddie said, lifting the book in his hands as if to demonstrate he wasn’t just wasting time.

“You’re never a bother, kid. You can stay as long as you’d like.”

“T-thank you, sir,” he said in a small voice when James walked past him and ruffled his hair affectionately as he left.

“Dad? Wait, hold up-”

Dottie launched herself into the hallway and caught up to her Dad when he was halfway through his bedroom door. She nervously looked up at him and James lifted an eyebrow, curious.

“Would it be okay if I went to The Hideout to see the guys play tomorrow?” she asked, chewing on her own lip.

“Honey, it’s a school night-”

“I know but the teachers aren’t even taking attendance anymore. And I swear I’m not gonna skip the next day! Please, I’ll be back before midnight.”

“Dot-”

“You know Jeff’s dad wouldn’t let him do it if he was coming back home at 3 am every week on school nights. Please let me go? I really, really, really wanna see them play.”

“Would you be riding with Eddie?” James sighed.

“Yeah, he’s Gareth’s ride. His drum kit doesn’t fit in Donny’s car.”

“Okay, you can go-”

“Thank you!”

“-but! You gotta be back by midnight, okay?” he said, stern. “I don’t care if the teachers aren’t doing their jobs anymore, school’s not out until Friday. You’re not on holiday yet.”

“I know, I won’t break the curfew, I promise-”

“And you can’t drink any alcohol either. If I have to pick you up from the station for any reason, you’re grounded until September.”

“I won’t drink a drop, Dad, I swear. I just wanna see the guys play,” she pleaded with doe eyes.

“Fine. You can go,” James finally relented.

“Thank you!” Dottie shrieked, hugging her Dad and shaking him in her excitement. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Alright, alright, calm down. Just be careful, okay? And call-”

“Call you if anything happens. I know. Thank you,” she kissed his cheek and ran back into her bedroom where James heard Eddie scream “fuck yeah!”, followed by a loud thump and bright laughter.

That night after dinner, Dottie sat on her windowsill looking at the inside of her wardrobe, mentally putting together an outfit that wouldn’t make her stand out like a sore thumb in the dingy bar. Jeans and sneakers are fine, Eddie had said when she asked him about it, but she knew the guys dressed up for their gigs, and she wanted to fit in. Maybe she should have asked her soon-to-be-boyfriend to lend her one of his band t-shirts, but then again, Eddie had a tendency to get grabby whenever she wore his clothes lately, even if it was just a borrowed sweatshirt when she got cold during a movie night. It was better to be lowkey about this; they were already pushing it a lot lately with the secret daily hangouts and the doing errands together thing. Borrowing his clothes in such a public event like his own band’s gig was as big a declaration of love as they came.

Yes, it was best to keep this under wraps, for the sake of all their friendships with the rest of the boys. She’d wear her own clothes to her very first Corroded Coffin show, and she’d be extra careful with her yearbook when she gave it to her friends at The Weekly Streak to sign. No one had to know that Eddie had drawn a very realistic looking arrangement of daisies on a corner of a page, along with an incredibly telling message that would be hard to explain if anyone read it. However, nothing was stopping her from letting the words he’d written in his usual chicken scratch form behind her eyelids as she let sleep take her under, a perpetual lovesick smile tattooed on her face.Thank you for believing in me, darling, he’d said. I love you now and always. Your Endearing Eddie.

Tuesday, June 10th - 1986

If there was anyone in Hawkins who had bad timing when it came to scheduling business transactions that happened outdoors, it was Eddie Munson. He was in such a hurry to sell most of his stash before he was due to start his first ever real job at Thatcher Tires the following week that he’d failed to account for the permanent drizzle that haunted Hawkins most of the time, and thus, had to move from his preferred selling spot in the woods to the back of the East classroom wing, his back pressed to the warm brick to shield himself from the droplets falling from the sky.

While he was busy earning much wanted cash so he could take his still-not-official-girlfriend out on a date to celebrate their graduation, Dottie and Gareth were lounging in his van, side door cracked open to let some of the day’s heat out. The almost empty parking lot looked menacing surrounded by a thick haze, a moderate breeze directing the drops of water to hit the van’s windshield in a comforting rhythm. Gareth was, as usual, being a menace. He was going through Eddie’s tapes, exchanging their cases to mess with his friend, and never letting a song reach the end before he was skipping forward to the next one. Dottie would have complained about it if she wasn’t so concentrated on her knitting, the summer baby blanket she was working on spread out over her legs. She was in the middle of calculating if the soft cotton yarn she had left was enough to finish the row she was currently knitting when Gareth turned around in the passenger seat to catch her attention.

“You excited about tonight?” he asked, glancing at the songlist at the back of a mixtape.

“Yeah, it should be fun! Though I’m not sure what I’m gonna wear yet,” she put down her needles and stretched in her seat. “Eddie said sneakers and jeans were fine, but I don’t wanna look lost, y’know.”

“Pick the oldest, shittiest clothes you have and you’ll fit in just fine. Most of the drunks in there go after work, it’s always a lot of plaid, jeans, and dirt.”

“You’re not selling this to me very well.”

“I don’t have to,” he grinned. “Eddie says jump, you jump.”

“No, I don’t-”

“Hey, there you are!”

She was about to tell Gareth off when Chrissy appeared from the mist, shielding herself from the rain by holding her cheer cardigan above her head. Immediately, Dottie slid the van door open a bit more so she could climb in, moving all her knitting supplies to her lap so the strawberry blonde girl could sit next to her. Gareth looked at both girls awkwardly and muttered a quick hello before turning in his seat again and busying himself back with the mixtapes.

“I didn’t know you knitted,” Chrissy said, thumbing the corner of the blanket. “This is so pretty.”

“Thank you,” Dottie smiled. “It’s a gift for my Aunt, she’s having a baby in a couple of months.”

“Aw, that’s sweet! Let me guess, a girl?” she said, pointing at the baby pink yarn.

“How could you tell?” Dottie said with good natured sarcasm. “Her name’s gonna be Rose so… pink for Rosie! It’s not very original but I’m hoping she still likes it even though she’ll be born in the middle of summer.”

“I’m sure she’ll love it. I used mine until I was in preschool, there’s no age limit for a good blankie,” Chrissy said, kindly. “I wish I could do creative stuff like this, it looks fun. I tried to learn to sew when I was younger but my Mom’s so not a good teacher. She made me cry once because I forgot to put the presser foot down.”

“I could teach you a few things if you want,” Dottie offered. “I’m not an expert, but my Aunt is, like, the most perfectionist person on the planet and she taught me everything I know so…”

“You’d do that?”

“Do what, teach you?” the blonde nodded in response. “Of course! We’re friends! And it’s a great skill to have, it comes in handy more than you think.”

“We’re friends?” Chrissy asked, eyes suddenly shiny.

“After everything you’ve done for- Chrissy, of course we’re friends,” Dottie said, grabbing the other girl’s hand.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathed out, a quiet laugh escaping her lips. “I feel so much better about asking you to sign my yearbook now, I didn’t know if I was being weird or not.”

“For future reference, we like weird here,” the brunette said in a stage whisper, leaning down to get her own yearbook out of her backpack. “Besides, I kinda wanted to ask you to sign mine too so we’re even.”

The girls exchanged books and quickly got to signing, aware that Gareth was pretending like he wasn’t in the same vehicle as them. He didn’t want to turn up the music and rudely drown their conversation, so he distracted himself by drumming on Eddie’s dashboard with two pens, wondering what on Earth had Chrissy done for Dottie that made her so thankful towards the cheerleader. Dottie grabbed her nicest black pen and found an empty space under Eddie’s message. He’d written Don’t be a stranger, Chrissy the Cheery (and thank you for the advice! See you at the wedding) next to a crude drawing in blue ink of a girl with a ponytail lifting one pompon and doing devil horns with the other hand.

After thinking about what she wanted to say to the cheerful blonde, Dottie settled on a nice simple message that was cryptic enough should anyone else read it, but also something that conveyed just how truly grateful she was for this new found friendship. Have a fantastic summer!, the note opened. Thank you for everything. Call me whenever! At the end, right next to her name and a little daisy, she wrote down her phone number. The word everything was underlined twice. When she gave it back to her rightful owner and saw the message Chrissy had written on pink ink on her yearbook, she let out a girly giggle. It was so lovely to get to know you, have a good summer! Let’s hang out soon, it read. Below, Chrissy had also written down her phone number. Both teens looked at each other with a knowing grin and hugged, not paying any attention to the metalhead who’d put them on each other’s path hopping onto the driver’s seat of his van, hair damp from the rain.

“Aw, aren’t you two cute,” Eddie said, grinning. “Did she sign it?”

“We both did,” Chrissy said, returning the smile. “How were the sales?”

“Great! I’m selling my last bit on Thursday and then I’m keeping the rest for myself. A man’s gotta have his vices.”

“What a shame,” the blonde shook her head. “Hawkins is losing its nicest dealer to the workforce.”

“I’m the only dealer you know, sweetheart.”

“Because you’re the nicest one, keep up! I’m gonna have to buy from sleazy dudes now, ugh,” she said while she gathered her things to leave.

“You should have enough to last you until you leave for your pre-season with what I sold you today,” he frowned, concerned that every time Chrissy bought from him, the amounts she asked for kept increasing.

“Yeah, maybe,” she said and shrugged, sliding the door van open and hopping off. “See you around, guys!”

The three of them watched her jog towards the school with her cardigan draped over her head again, her petite figure losing definition in the haze. Eddie clicked on his seatbelt - a habit he’d picked up since he started driving Dottie around - and pulled out of the school’s parking lot, winking once at the girl on his backseat when he put his hand on Gareth’s headrest to reverse into the open road. Dottie rolled her eyes at him, picking up her knitting needles once again. Gareth stared at the school building until it disappeared from sight before he turned to his friends.

“I still can’t believe Chrissy Cunningham is not only super nice to us freaks, but also smokes weed,” he said, making both of the other teens laugh.

James Burke did not think that moving to the town he had grown up in as a quiet wallflower would result in an exponential growth in his daughter’s social life, but truth be told, he wasn’t exactly upset about it. Before packing up her whole life and facing the Big Drive to Hawkins, Dottie had never once gone out for the night on a weekday, much less during the school year. But James had agreed to it, and Dottie had promised to be home before midnight, which brought them to the living room where the tired father sat in his armchair and amusedly watched his daughter pace the entirety of the room swinging her arms around with each step she took.

“You’re gonna burn a hole in the carpet, honey.”

“Good. This carpet gives me allergies.”

James chuckled, following her with his eyes as she padded her way to the window once more and peered outside yet again despite knowing that she would hear Eddie’s van first before seeing it, as per usual. She sighed dramatically and resumed her pacing, glancing at the clock on the wall anxiously. Mildly embarrassed upon noticing that her friends were still perfectly on schedule, she took a few deep breaths and tried to get her emotions in control before their arrival.

“You know you can call me if you get there and want to leave, right?”

“I know, Dad,” she rolled her eyes at him. “Stop offering to pick me up from places, you know Eddie’s gonna drive me back whenever I ask.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t exactly comfort me as much as you think it does, honey. That van looks like it’s gonna die on him at any second.”

“Oh, come on,” Dottie argued. “He loves that van, he takes good care of it.”

“The fumes that come out of that thing say otherwise, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt since he’s gonna be a mechanic and all now.”

And speak of the devil, thought James, as the aforementioned smoky van appeared down the street while playing loud metal music. Dottie hurried to grab her keys and a jacket, ready to bolt out of the door and get to the damn dive bar already, but her Dad insisted on walking with her outside to say hi. Eddie and Gareth waved at them as they approached, lowering the music so they could greet the older man properly.

“Good evening, boys,” James said, hands on his hips in a typical Dad pose but with a friendly smile on his face. “How are we feeling? Excited for the show?”

“Hell yeah!” Gareth said, grinning. “We’re gonna kill it, the setlist is awesome tonight.”

“You let him add an Anthrax song to it, didn’t you?” Dottie laughed knowingly, sliding the side door open and climbing in.

“We’re closing with Metal Thrashing Mad,” Gareth looked at her with an expression of triumph.

“Sounds like it’s gonna be a riot,” James chuckled and turned to his daughter. “Have fun, but don’t get into too much trouble. Midnight, okay?”

“I’ll get back here by 11, sir, I promise,” Eddie said, nodding once.

“Midnight’s okay, Ed,” the eldest Burke said, putting his trust in the young man’s hands; Eddie nodded again in understanding. “Have a good show!”

The man patted the side of the van as a goodbye and headed back inside, privately enjoying how much he could make Eddie squirm with just a few well placed words. He liked Eddie, he really did - he was polite, unapologetically himself, resourceful, kind. He loved his friends and wore his heart on his sleeve. And he loved Dottie, that much was clear to literally everyone that surrounded the teens. James didn’t know what the situation was like between them at the moment, but he could tell something had shifted based on recent interactions he’d witnessed. In his opinion, there seemed to be some sort of deeper connection between them since that fateful party they had gone to just a handful of days earlier, but James had to admit, albeit a little reluctantly, that even though he had been on the lookout for signs of a romantic relationship developing, not a lot had truly changed.

Eddie and Dottie had always been unusually close even upon first meeting, that was an undeniable fact about their friendship. It was hard to pinpoint if anything romantic had blossomed between them when Eddie had been calling her darling since the very first moment he laid eyes on her, or when Dottie gravitated towards him at any given moment, even in rooms filled with other people. Their hugs, while always having lasted longer than a regular friendly hug, were chaste and innocent, their main purpose always to comfort and to reassure. Eddie’s hands always stayed above her waist, not even so much as accidentally dropping to her hips in James’ presence, and any compromising position he’d found them in was at best playful, certainly never inappropriate.

It wasn’t that James was particularly concerned with the nature of the teens’ relationship; after all, he had been a teen himself once, he wasn’t an idiot. If anything was bound to happen, they weren’t going to ask for his permission beforehand. No, his worries were more about the knowledge that Dottie and Eddie dating while having the same group of friends could make a potential fall out incredibly painful for both of them, and the poor man was just desperately trying to protect his daughter as best as he could. He already felt like he had failed her once, he couldn’t let her down again. And yet, despite being cognizant of the dangers ahead, James found himself trusting Eddie because if Dottie trusted him, how could he not trust that his daughter knew better than her own Dad did about the matters of her heart?

“Okay, be honest, guys. How do I look?” Dottie asked, shoving half her body between the front seats so they could look at her better at the first stop sign.

“You look gorgeous, princess,” said Eddie.

“Like a toddler,” said Gareth, at the same time.

“Gareth, what the fuck,” Eddie deadpanned, swatting at his friend’s chest.

“What? She’s lucky they don’t ask for IDs,” he said, doubling down.

“You don’t tell a girl she looks like a toddler when she dresses up, you asshat,” Eddie said. “See, this is why you can’t get a girlfriend, you know nothing about women.”

“How would you know any better, you don’t have a girlfriend either!” Gareth retorted, making Eddie snort. If he only knew…

“You two bicker like an old married couple, did you know that?” Dottie said, settling back on her seat.

“That’s because we are,” Eddie joked, grabbing Gareth’s hand and giving him a kiss on the knuckles, making his friend yank his arm out of his grasp while the older boy laughed loudly.

Everyone was in good spirits as they journeyed to The Hideout, but whether she wanted them to or not, Gareth’s words made Dottie pause. Both boys had told her dark, casual clothes would be okay when she’d asked them for advice, so she’d gone with a striped dark blue and white t-shirt and black jean overalls, her trusty Reeboks matching Eddie’s keeping her feet comfortable. She glanced at both of her friends through the rearview mirror and compared her clothes to theirs, but that would never be a fair fight: they were dressed for the stage, not to be a spectator like she was. Gareth was wearing a loose shirt with the sleeves cut out, leather bracelets with spikes decorating each wrist along with his usual rings perched on his fingers. He had a flannel tied at his hip and his jeans were incredibly distressed, something that his Mom hadn’t been too happy about when she found out he’d ripped them himself on their driveway with a sharp rock. Eddie sat next to him, tapping on the steering wheel lightly as they talked about the setlist, looking like a vision straight out of his wildest rockstar dreams in acid wash denim and chains. Admittedly, his eyeliner did look terribly smudged, but he more than made up for it with enthusiasm and a giddy grin etched permanently into his features.

There was no comparison and there would never be one. Dottie simply didn’t fit in. They were undiscovered rockstars, masters of their craft who had poured blood, sweat and tears into a yet unfulfilled dream, and she was just the high school friend who was lucky enough to meet them before they blew up. She tried to be excited for them, to join in on the fun, but all she could think about was how Eddie was destined for bigger things than to be chained to an elementary school teacher and the white picket fence she had always dreamed of when she was living in a tiny apartment with her Dad back in New York.

Unaware of her inner turmoil, Eddie pulled into The Hideout’s parking lot next to Donny’s car, Gareth excitedly hollering out of the co-pilot’s window to get their friends’ attention. Donny took one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the side, and hurried to meet them along with Jeff, hugs and pats on their backs exchanged before immediately busying themselves unloading both vehicles. Dottie was quick to mask her discomfort by helping out; a task that forced her to stay focused was always a welcome distraction for her worried brain. The boys chatted loudly, their tired grunts filling the eerily empty parking lot as they moved heavy amps and Gareth’s drum kit into the bar through a service door to the side of the building, leaving Dottie to trail behind them carrying cables and drumsticks.

“Hey, you okay?” Jeff asked, taking a mic stand from her hands, back pressed to the metal service door to keep it open.

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m just nervous,” she lied, her smile failing to reach her eyes. “Never been to a place like this before.”

“No one here bites, I promise,” he nudged her shoulder. “And if they do, we’ll fight them for you. You’re with the band, you’re a VIP now.”

“My heroes,” she said, pretending to swoon.

The small exchange might have gone unnoticed had Eddie not become finely attuned to the girl’s emotions even when she wasn’t sharing them out loud. Something wasn’t right, he was sure of it, and he was determined to find out what it was before their set started. He wanted her to enjoy this, to see him doing one of the things he loved most, to let her into a space that up until now had been sacred for him. The Hideout’s little stage wasn’t the Madison Square Garden, but with her in the crowd, he felt like it was the most important show he’d ever play in his entire life.

“I really like your shirt,” Dottie was telling Donny about his Iron Maiden tee, holding his bass for him as he searched for a pedal that had gotten lost in the back of his car. “The black makes your eyes pop out.”

“But I need my eyes,” he whined jokingly.

“You know what I mean, dumbass,” she laughed, softly hitting his leg with her sneaker.

“I was gonna wear something else actually but I couldn’t find it,” he said, frowning at his car’s messy floor. “I have this Halloween shirt- aha!”

“Did you find it?”

“Yep, it was under the mat,” he climbed out of the car and pulled his pants up higher. “My ass wasn’t showing, was it?”

“I would never let you show your ass in public,” Dottie said, giving him back his bass. “We got everything? What do we do now?”

“Yeah, we just need to set up and-”

“Hey man, can you start without us?” Eddie asked, sitting on the back of his open van and patting his pockets for his cigarettes. “Need her help with something.”

“Uh- yeah, sure,” Donny said, looking at both of them suspiciously and noticing how Dottie appeared to be as equally confused as he was. “Don’t take too long.”

Donny hoisted his bass case over his shoulder and disappeared into the building, throwing one last look at them for good measure. While Eddie busied himself lighting up a cig, Dottie shifted her weight from foot to foot nervously. What on Earth could Eddie want her help with right now? Was he… was he going to tell her to leave? Had he realized this was no place for her and didn’t want anyone to see she was with them? Or with him?

“Come ‘ere,” Eddie said, widening his legs so she could stand between them. “You gonna tell me what’s going on or do I gotta tickle it out of you?”

“You know I don’t like tickles.”

“Then I guess you’re gonna have to spill, don’t you, princess?” he flicked some of his ash to the side and wrapped an arm around her hips to bring her closer. “What is it, huh? My eyeliner’s that bad you can’t even look at me?”

“No,” she muttered, lips curling into a resigned pout. “You look pretty.”

“I look like shit. People might confuse me with a raccoon.”

“A pretty raccoon,” the right corner of her mouth lifted into a tentative smile and he took that as a win.

“If it’s not my eyeliner, what’s bothering you then? You wanna go home? ‘Cause I’ll drive you back right now if you want me to, just say the word.”

“No, no,” she quickly shook her head, curls bouncing around but her eyes were still stuck to his knees. “I wanna see you play.”

“Baby, I know something’s upsetting you. Talk to me, come on. We’ve been good at that lately,” he pleaded, thumb sneaking into the side of her overalls and under her shirt to rub comforting circles on her skin.

“It’s just-,” Dottie huffed, crossing her arms and curling on herself. “I feel weird, okay? I look like an idiot.”

“What are you talking about?” Eddie frowned.

“Ed, I’m wearing overalls.”

“And?”

“What do you mean, and? You look like a fucking rockstar and I’m some random toddler following you around. I don’t fit in, Gareth’s right.”

“Okay, first of all, fuck Gareth,” she opened her mouth to argue but he beat her to it. “No, no, fuck Gareth. He doesn’t know shit about fashion, never trust anything he says, okay? He used to wear polos every day before he met me, you knew that? He can’t judge anyone. And I love your overalls. You look adorable in them.”

“But I don’t want to look adorable!” Dottie stomped on the ground, which only furthered his point. “You look so badass, why couldn’t I look like that?”

“You wanna look badass? I’ll give you any of my shirts next time, I promise,” Eddie pulled her closer until she uncrossed her arms and rested them on his shoulders. “But don’t listen to that dumbass. I love how you dress. I really fuckin’ do, babe.”

“Yeah? The toddler thing gets you going?” she asked, melting under his earnest eyes.

“Nah, that’s all you, darling,” he stretched himself up to kiss her gently. “You get me going. And you always fit in with me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“Nope, come on, you gotta say it.”

“Eddie.”

“I’m waiting,” he sang.

“You’re insufferable sometimes,” she rolled her eyes, but this time her smile was much more genuine. “Fine. I fit in with you.”

“Always.”

“Good,” he took one last drag of his cigarette and threw it away, lifting himself up to close the van doors and direct into the bar. “We’re gonna talk about this later though. I know you’re still thinking about it.”

“It’s scary how much you know me,” she mused, leaning onto his side for courage as they walked to the front door.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t pay attention to you?” he said, opening the door to let her in.

Boyfriend. He had called himself her boyfriend. They hadn’t discussed what they were yet; Eddie was adamant about asking her out properly on Graduation Day but it felt good to hear that he knew what he meant to her. That he wanted the same thing she did, even if her anxious heart got in the way sometimes. Dottie was so sure he’d get bored of her once he realized how truly boring she was, but failed to consider that in all their months together as friends, Eddie had learned to love their differences and cherished them deeply. Why would he want someone who was just like him? He was an idiot in his opinion, he’d hate it if she was equally impulsive, messy and brash as he was. She was soft where he was rough, logical where he was a dreamer, practical where he was ignorant. And in turn Eddie felt capable where she was inexperienced, bold where she was shy, and calm where she was nervous. Two puzzle pieces that are cut the exact same way never fit, and Eddie was confident in the knowledge that they were alike, yet different where it mattered the most. It was just a matter of time until she got to see things like he did, and he’d be damned if he didn’t help her get there faster.

“Dave! What’s up?” Eddie hollered as he approached the bar, a bald man with a bushy beard greeted him with a big smile.

“Hey, Ed! The guys told me the big news, I’m proud of you, kid,” Dave said, putting down his rag and a glass to pat Eddie’s back over the counter. “You brought a new friend today?”

“Thanks, man. Yeah, this is Dottie,” he introduced them. “Dot, Dave, he’s the owner - Dave, Dot. Treat her right, okay? She’s our manager.”

“No shit,” Dave laughed. “How did that happen?”

“I got them a gig in Indy next month and they offered me the job,” Dottie said, slipping onto a bar stool next to Eddie. “We should talk business sometime.”

“That’s my girl,” Eddie beamed, squeezing her hand before walking backwards to the stage. “Give her anything she wants, I’ll cover her tab!”

“So, you’re Eddie’s girl, huh,” Dave said, eyes glinting.

“I guess I am,” Dottie smiled, before her expression dropped in realization. “Could you- We’re not, like- The guys-”

“Secret’s safe with me, doll,” he winked at her. “I knew something was up when Ed started adding ballads to their setlist. Now, what’s your poison? On the house.”

“Would root beer be an acceptable choice?” she asked, cheeks burning under her skin.

“Depends. You want ice cream with it?” he threw his rag over his shoulder.

“I’ll never say no to a little vanilla.”

“Attagirl. I can see why he likes you,” Dave said, and disappeared down the kitchen door in search of a scoop of ice cream.

Dottie turned around in her stool to look at her friends happily setting up for their show, palpable excitement coursing through their veins. Gareth was hunched over his drum kit, tightening and loosening the skin until it was perfect while he heard the story Donny was retelling, Eddie laughing loudly and Jeff cringing while uncoiling a cable. They looked happy, barely controlled energy bouncing around the room much to everyone’s amusement. Two older men sat in a corner of the bar, mugs filled with frothy beer and a bowl of peanuts shared between them - they lifted up their drinks and smiled at her in acknowledgement when she glanced their way. Dave was funny, charming and a little bit kooky, all the right ingredients for a good bartender. He kept Dottie busy by telling her stories about every regular that was in the bar, and introduced her to the two men as “the boys’ boss, so no funny business with her”. Rudy and B.B. ate it up, calling her bosslady in all further interactions, asking her about their friendship with Corroded Coffin and telling her silly stories they had collected about her friends over their years as The Hideout’s only band with a permanent slot.

It was clear to Dottie that this was a family built on routine and comradery. They had nicknames for each other, knew about beverage preferences and medical conditions, asked about parents, wives and children. B.B. was all too glad to have someone new to show off the pictures he kept in his wallet, his five grandchildren looking up at Dot from the glossy paper as he shared names and little anecdotes about them proudly. When it was time for Corroded Coffin to finally start playing, everyone paid attention and even cheered when the first few notes of Black Sabbath’s Paranoid began. Dottie sang along to every single word that came out of Jeff’s mic, thinking about that very first time she’d seen them play in Gareth’s garage. This felt equally warm, homey, and handcrafted. A labor of love.

Corroded Coffin was a sight that begged to be seen. They were loud and unapologetic; they crooned to the outcasts, the freaks, the weirdos. Lee with his prosthetic leg and handlebar mustache, Rudy with his white hair and beer belly, Shonda with her leather vest and scary-looking motorbike parked outside. These drunkards were their very first fans, and they enjoyed the Tuesday night gig as much as anyone could enjoy first row seats to a Metallica show in a big arena. During a water break between songs, Lee asked for a Judas Priest song and the boys indulged him, Gareth immediately launching into a complex beat that made him break one of his drumsticks in half at the end. He looked the happiest Dottie had ever seen him.

The half hour show came to a close, and Corroded Coffin said their goodbyes with pure elation and sweat dripping down their faces. Dottie wanted to help them load everything back into the cars, but Shonda kept her busy and glued to her stool talking about New York and the best food places she had encountered on her travels. If Dottie recognized some of the mentioned spots as known queer hangouts she’d always wanted to go to but couldn’t because she was underage, she said nothing, but the knowledge only endeared the older lady more to her. When the guys had finished putting everything away, they surrounded Dottie at the bar and Dave presented them with a beer each. Yes, it was illegal to serve alcohol to minors, but no one cared. They’d earned those fair and square, and what was the big issue with a little toast between friends to the Hellfire Class of ‘86 who would be graduating in just a few short days?

“Since when do you go dry after a show, Ed?” Dave said, grabbing the bottle Eddie had pushed back into his hand.

“I’m driving her around tonight,” Eddie said, nodding towards Dottie who was lost in conversation with Jeff. “Her Dad might kill me if we get pulled over and I’m drunk, and I actually like being alive.”

“She’s got you whipped,” B.B. commented, making the rest of the older men laugh while Eddie’s ears burned red at the light teasing.

“Good for her. Someone had to do it at some point,” Rudy said, lifting his frothy beer to his lips, and truth be told, Eddie was more than happy to admit they were right.

Dottie was not expecting Eddie to pull over halfway between her house and Gareth’s after dropping him and his drum kit off, but it soon became clear that he wasn’t about to let her go to bed without talking about what had happened earlier. He was still a little jittery from the show, adrenaline starting to run off now that they were surrounded by the quiet of the night in a deserted street, truly alone for the first time all day. After reaching to click her seatbelt off, he helped her crawl sideways onto his lap, resting her weight half on him and half on the driver’s door, legs draped over the center console and stretching towards the co-pilot’s seat. Despite the fact that he’d just played a 30 minute set and still felt a little bit damp with sweat from his performance, he took the time to bask in the sense of calm that washed over him. This is the best part of my day, he thought, lazily pressing kisses to the side of her head as she played with his rings, a dazed smile on her face.

“I fuckin’ love you,” he whispered, pushing her hair behind her ear and making her squirm in delight when he pressed another kiss to her temple.

“I love you too. You’re my favorite rockstar,” she muttered back, nosing his cheek.

“You had a good time?”

“The best. Everyone was so nice.”

“They better be,” he said dramatically, lifting his hand into a menacing fist. “Or else I’d have to kill them.”

“Stop,” she laughed, arms wrapping around him. “I’m sorry if I worried you earlier. I was being silly and got too into my own head.”

“You gonna tell me what that was about? And don’t say it was about your overalls, because I know it wasn’t,” he lifted her hand to his lips to kiss her knuckles gently.

“I don’t know, I guess… I was just thinking about the future, and-”

“Uh-oh. Is this it? Are you breaking up with me? Shit, I knew that old dog Rudy was gonna take you away from me.”

“Shut up,” Dottie slapped his chest lightly as she laughed and he pretended to be in excruciating pain, slumping against his seat. “I… I was just wondering if there’s gonna be a place for me, y’know? In your future? And I got upset thinking that maybe there wouldn’t be.”

“Why would you think that?” Eddie asked, uncharacteristically serious.

“I mean… I dunno,” she admitted. “You’re gonna be a huge rockstar and I’m just, like… your boring high school sweetheart that wants to become a teacher. Is that really what you want for your life?”

“Yes. I want you.”

“Eddie, I’m being serious.”

“Yeah, me too,” his hand came up to hold her face. “I’m not gonna become a rockstar, Dot. That ship sailed a long time ago.”

“You’re only twenty-”

“It’s not about my age. Jeff’s leaving Hawkins and he’s gonna be a fancy businessman with a- a fuckin’ pacifist non-profit org or whatever people do in West Virginia,” she snorted at his words and he continued. “Gareth’s probably gonna become the greatest studio percussionist in the world for all we know, and Donny has his family’s restaurant to take care of. We’re all going separate ways, and I don’t wanna do the rockstar thing without them. Like, that’s my band, y’know? I’m not gonna go solo, it’s all of us or no one.”

“I get that, I do but… I just don’t want to be the reason you give up on your dreams,” she admitted. “You’re gonna resent me if you do, and I don’t want you to wake up one day and realize that you are unhappy and you hate me.”

“I could never hate you and I’m not giving up on anything because of you, darling, I promise. Is it really that hard to believe that I want a normal, peaceful life with you?” he shrugged.

“But you hate normal.”

“No, I don’t. I thought I did but… I can’t be hanging onto a maybe forever, babe. I can’t do that to Wayne. I want to help him out, have a good job so I can pay for things around the house, move out before I turn 30. Give him back his goddamn bedroom, for fuck’s sake,” Eddie scoffed bitterly, thinking about his poor Uncle’s back after years of sleeping on that shitty fold-out bed. “I want to make his life easier. He deserves that much.”

“But you could help him out even more if you became a rockstar. You could- you could buy him a big house, and he wouldn’t have to work anymore, he could just retire,” Dottie pressed on. “Didn’t you want to get out of Hawkins? Travel the world?”

“Yeah, but I think I’d miss you too much if I was away on the road all the time. I’m already suffering about you going to Michigan and that’s only three hours away. I can’t get on a tour bus and not see you for eight months, you know I’ll die if you don’t kiss me regularly,” he joked.

“What makes you think I wouldn’t be right there with you on the tour bus if you asked?” she joked back but her voice was so, so earnest.

“Darling, I could never do that to you. I could never ask you to give up on a full ride scholarship for me, fuck. You earned that shit, you have to go and get your degree so I can brag about how smart you are to everyone I talk to.”

“But who’s gonna keep the groupies away from you if I’m not there?” she whispered dramatically.

“I’ll chase them out, let the guys have all of them. Got the best and only groupie I need right here,” he squeezed her to make the remnants of her insecurities go away before kissing her forehead.

“I’m not a groupie though, I’m your manager,” Dottie reminded him. “I’ll have you know, Dave and I are gonna discuss business soon.”

“Yeah? You gonna look out for us? Read all our contracts before we sign them?” Eddie played along, smirking up at her.

“I’ll get you moved from Tuesdays to Thursdays, you’ll see.”

“God, you’re so hot when you know what you want.”

“Eddie!”

“What, my girl is the smartest manager in the world and I can’t find that hot? Fuckin’ sue me then,” he laughed and leaned in to kiss her, feeling incredibly lucky about the fact that she chased his lips for more when he pulled away. “I’m being serious, though. I know you don’t believe me when I say I don’t want that rockstar shit anymore, and this is way too brave of me considering we haven’t even gone on our first official date yet, but… I dunno. I kinda really like the idea of coming back home after a long day at work and getting to hold you like this. I used to think having a normal life was so lame because I never had it and now it’s all I can think about.”

Eddie had told himself throughout his whole childhood that he didn’t want to live like his classmates. He didn’t want to have family dinners every night like they did, because it meant he would have had to eat vegetables like broccoli and carrots instead of whatever unhealthy snack he could make for himself while his Dad was out of the house for the night. He didn’t want to have perfect attendance at school, because he liked whenever he could sleep in until late before “going on an adventure” on Wyatt’s Good Days. He liked spending his summers with his Grandma, stuffing his face full of ice cream and pie, and he liked when Wayne had a few days off from his job as a trucker and returned to Hawkins bringing dumb trinkets he had probably bought at a gas station on his way home, but felt like treasures to the youngest Munson. Eddie had told himself he didn’t want anything more than what he had throughout his childhood, because Wyatt said whining was for pussies and for girls, and his son wasn’t either of those things, are you?

It wasn’t until Eddie moved in with Wayne that he found out he really liked carrots because they were unexpectedly sweet and that he didn’t like grapefruit because it was bitter. He didn’t skip a single day of school for a month and his teacher put a gold star next to his name on the wall. His clothes were now always clean, and he didn’t have to wash ketchup stains in the school’s bathroom anymore to hide them from his Dad because his shirt would be hanging from the clothesline the next day like the offending red splat had never been there in the first place. Eddie thought that living in a real house was bullshit, because he lived in a trailer now and the trailer park was fun. He could feed and pet the strays and go to the playground whenever he wanted, and the people who lived there said hi to him when they saw him collecting flat rocks to skip at the lake when Wayne took him fishing on weekends, and sometimes the old lady next door would give him a bite of watermelon if he asked nicely.

But now Eddie was 20, and he wasn’t scared of admitting he wanted more. He wanted a water heater that didn’t randomly die on him, and a bedroom without mold stains, and Wayne to have the privacy he so very much deserved after 12 years of sleeping in the living room. He wanted a garage like Gareth’s, a backyard like Jeff��s, and a loud but loving family like Donny’s. And whenever he thought about those things lately, he always ended up dreaming about lying on a big comfy couch after a hot shower with his sleepy girlfriend pressed to his side and the decadent smell of a roast cooking away in the oven. No rush, no worries. Just love.

“I think about it too,” Dottie said quietly, jostling him out of his cozy fantasy.

“You do?” he asked, surprised.

“I never had a house until we moved here, I’ve always lived in small apartments before. And it’s not like that’s a bad thing, because it isn’t! I’m really grateful I always had a roof over my head. But I used to dream a lot about having a house like my grandparents when I was younger, and… I don’t know. When I think about it now you are there too. I know, I know it’s a lot, we haven’t even, like, talked about-”

“No, no, that-,” Eddie said, an unfamiliar warmth spreading in his chest. “That sounds really nice, darling. Tell me more? About our future house?”

“Well… it changes all the time. When I see something I like, I add it so it’s always different,” she said, cheeks warm at his soft gaze. “Like, it didn’t have a front porch until I met you, but now I know I definitely want one.”

“Why did you add a porch when you met me?”

“Because you have one! I love it when we sit outside when it’s rainy, it feels really peaceful. And also I think it’s really cute that Wayne waits for you there sometimes. I… I kinda wanna do that.”

“You wanna wait for me to come home on our front porch?” Eddie asked, grip tightening around her waist.

“Mhm,” she buried her head on his neck, closing her eyes like she could see themselves in the future. “We should get a swing, I can make cushions for it. And plant fruit trees in the backyard.”

“We could set up the basement to host D&D nights,” he continued. “And a dog. We should definitely get a dog.”

“Yes. A big dog.”

“A big black dog, and we can name him Ozzy,” he smiled.

“Aw, I wanted to name him Bilbo,” she pouted.

“You can’t name a black dog Bilbo, that’s a name for a brown dog,” Eddie argued.

“We can have two dogs then, one black and one brown.”

“That’s too much, we need space for the kids.”

“K-kids?” Dottie lifted her head and stared at him like he’d just grown two heads.

“I thought you wanted kids?” he was confused.

“I do, I just… I didn’t think you wanted kids,” she admitted. “And we’re still so young, it feels strange to talk about that.”

“I mean, I definitely don’t want kids right now but maybe in like… five years-”

“Ten,” she said, in a tone that left no room to argue.

“Ten years sounds great. We could have kids in ten years, right? I’m not gonna be a loser by then.”

“Eddie, you’re not a loser,” she frowned.

“Wait until after graduation to make big statements like that, babe.”

“You’re not a loser. You’re the best rockstar mechanic in the world and Ozzy, the kids and I love you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, wiping his face with his hand. “Princess, you can’t shit like that or I’m gonna ask you to marry me before our first date.”

“Ed?” Dottie said nervously; his hand fell from his face to her thighs and he looked at her. “Are we… are we moving too fast? We haven’t even been on a real date and we’re already talking about, like, marriage and living together-”

“We’re just goofin’ around, babe,” he said, grabbing her hand. “We don’t have to do anything until we’re ready. You gotta go to Michigan first and get your degree, and I have to move out of Wayne’s, we have time. I’m just, uh, putting my cards on the table early so you can yell at me if I start being stupid. That alright with you?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s alright with me,” she smiled back at him.

“Besides, everyone at The Hideout knows you’re my girl now. That’s bigger than marriage - if we break up they’ll take your side.”

“Am I?”

“Huh?”

“Am I your girl?” Dottie asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it from his lips.

“You know you are,” he pulled her into a kiss before singing softly. “My girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl… my girl!”

“You’re so silly,” she giggled, noses bumping in the dark.

“But I’m your silly. You’re mine and I’m yours, okay? So no more getting upset at whatever bullshit Gareth says. I’ll kick his ass.”

“It’s not his fault. My brain just hates me sometimes.”

“I’ll fight your brain,” he said, making her giggle again. “You’re It for me, darling. We fit in together. It’s just that easy.”

“Easy,” she repeated.

Eddie had told himself a lot of lies growing up, but the biggest one was that he didn’t want a normal, quiet life, because that was lame and he wasn’t going to conform to the system like everyone else did. He understood now that maybe, just maybe, having the most regular, happy, love-filled life he could get with his high school sweetheart turned elementary school teacher and a big black dog named Ozzy, in a house with a swing on the front porch, enough rooms for children that didn’t exist yet, and a basement where he could DM as many campaigns as he could think of, would probably be the biggest act of defiance he could do in the eyes of a town who thought he would never be deserving of the common luxuries everyone else got to have without having to fight for them.

taglist: @munsonology @kurdtbean @every1lovesanunderdog @eg-dr3amer3

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gyaru-wish · 10 months

Text

BULLIES, OCCULT CLUB AND DELINQUENTS APPEARENCE HEADCANONS

(This one is kinda long.)

Bullies:

They don't wear the shoes of the school uniform, they use more stylized ones.

When it's very hot, they don't wear socks.

Most of Hana's hair is blonde extensions to make it more spongy.

Musume is very discriminating about weight... It means that all of them have a certain weight to please Musume.

Kashiko has the longest nails (Even if they are false)

Hana tans from the sun. Kokoro and Hoshiko get spray tans, Musume gets tanning beds, and Kashiko is a natural skin.

Hoshiko uses a lot more makeup because she has dark circles under her eyes.

The clips and accessories they use in their hair have lots of rhinestones and fake gems.

From time to time they use colored cardigans, you know, for call the atention.

Their PE uniforms are also colored because Akademi's blue is plain and boring.

Hana has a small tattoo on her ankle.

Musume has a navel piercing.

Hoshiko has one of those piercings that cover the entire line of the ear (Idk the name of those bro)

Kashiko sticks stickers on almost all of her things.

Kokoro has jelly nails. Also jelly lips.

Kokoro is the shortest, Hana is the tallest.

Occult Club:

They all have bracelets on their arms. Especially Kokuma.

Kokuma wears a longer skirt.

Chojo uses eyeliner.

Shin has cat hair all over his uniform because of Wilson. Wilson is Shin's cat and it's fat, that's important.

Supana uses different shoes. In the sense that she sometimes wears a Demonias on her left foot and a Converse on her right foot. She does the same with her stocking.

Oka wears extra hoodies. She is usually cold.

They are all so pale that they look like c0rpses.

Daku sometimes wears hats to protect himself from the sun. It affects him more.

Chojo is always frowning.

Shin wears chains on his pants.

Chojo likes spiked accessories. So he always wears them. Necklaces, bracelets, shoes. All. Has. Spikes.

Daku's shirts have embroidered sleeves.

Kokuma and Supana have custom stocking.

I think eyebags is something we all knew.

Oka has dry lips.

Boys have long nails. Especially Chojo (He lets them grow on purpose to paint them.)

The girls constantly bite their nails... Except Supana.

Shin is very paranoid and it shows on his face.

Daku wears colored contact lenses.

Ever since Supana got fake fangs... Well. It became somewhat compulsive to buy them. Everybody wants to play vampire, shh.

They are all very, very skinny. They never eat anything. I mean yes but- It's not something they like to do.

Chojo has sticky hands. Nobody knows why.

Oka is the shortest, Daku is the tallest.

Shin wears glasses from time to time, he doesn't really need them but he feels cool.

Chojo uses hoodies tied around his waist.

Delinquents:

The first time they dyed their hair, they cried because they didn't know what they were doing.

Gaku is the shortest, Dairoku is the tallest.

Gaku has freckles.

All of them have at least one tattoo, but it is noteworthy that Hokuto and Hayanari have couple tattoos.

Osoro has the biggest tattoo. She has an angel on her back, by that I mean the images that say "This is what real angels look like".

They all have piercings, but it is noteworthy that Dairoku has a tongue piercing.

Very few people notice how really pretty Osoro is.

Their bodies are full of scars, bumps and bruises. (Osoro has more, honestly)

Their uniforms are stained with bl00d. It's hidden because they are black.

Although many believe it, they do not have marked bodies. They are just fit, but nothing remarkable. (Except for Osoro)

On certain days, you can see how their hair dye degrades with their natural hair colors. Umeji looks gorgeous with pink blond hair.

#yandere simulator #yan sim #yansim #yandere #anime #headcanon #occult club #bullies #delinquents

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soupinaboot · 1 year

Text

You know what, fuck your Henry Potter headcannons here's some of the girls headcannons that doesn't involve any of the boys + fancast

All

Played DnD together

They all knew the passwords to get into each other's dorms

Had a book club

Favorite hangout spot was by the lake

Would pull a lot of pranks, but no one ever knew it was them

After Hogwarts they all got matching tattoos

Lived close by so that they could walk to each other's houses

Many girls trips

They were called the Crusaders

Sleepovers.

Lily Evans

Working class Midlands accent

Short but slouchs so she looks shorter than she actually is

Loves romance books

Favorite author is Jane Austen

Also loves to read muggle comics

Her favorite superhero is Spider-Man

Has ADHD and OCD but didn't get diagnosed till later in life

Freckles, everywhere

Bisexual and totally had a crush on Mary when she was younger

Plus Size

Sarcastic and snarky as fuck

Amazing writer but horrible handwriting

She tried really hard to be the wingman for Marlene and Dorcas

<3 ABBA <3

Was everyone's gay awakening

Wanted to grow her own food and garden more but hated dirt

Greek Mythology nerd

Had a lot of plants but never knew how to care for them

Doesn't like to watch Quidditch but read a lot about it

Cottagecore

Favorite color is Green

Hates the cold and loves summer

Hibiscus tea lover

Fighter

Mary MacDonald

Has a lot of siblings, is the oldest

Owns a lot of cameras and loves taking photos of her friends

Bisexual and had a crush on Lily

Best class was charms

Loves doing makeup

Plans all the sleepovers

Makes jewelry

Coffee > Tea

Pink was her favorite color

Loudest and most contagious laugh

Friends with almost everyone

Plays the trumpet, I have no reason she just has the vibes of a trumpet player

Paints her nails a different color every week

Dog person

Owns a record player that is covered in stickers

Hippie fashion sense

Grew up in a poorer area

Sewed a lot of her own clothes and makes things for her friends

Best friends with her mom

Christmas is her favorite holiday

Loves to listen to Lily rant about books even when she has no idea what she's saying

<3 Fleetwood Mac <3

Favorite flower is an Iris

Sorcerer

Marlene McKinnon

Lily made her realize she was a Lesbian

Thick scottish accent

Was Minerva's favorite student

Beater for Gryffindor Quidditch team

Really good at art

Does her own piercings

Ambivert but it depends on who she's with

Tallest in the group

Doesn't like anyone touching her hair other than Dorcas

Is the only one Mary let's do her makeup

Favorite color is red

LOVES leather

Ur mom jokes

Nazareth lover

Also Stevie Nicks fan

She cut her hair the same as Stevie Nick

Loves watching horror movies with Lily

Never wears her uniform the right way

Puts hot sauce on EVERYTHING

Bass player

I'm sorry but she is a lightweight

Pins and buttons on all her clothes

Really wanted a dog growing up but they couldn't afford one

Barbarian

Dorcas Meadowes

Has a lot of crystals

Best friends with Pandora and they talk a lot about astrology

Fell in love with Marlene at first sight

Slytherin, I'm not sure if it's cannon but she just is

Quidditch chaser

Favorite weather is cloudy and rainy

Punk hippie

Taught Lily how to care for her plants

Has a nose piercing

LESBIAN!!!

Horrible flirt

Might of had a crush on Pandora at some point

New about the tunnels and used them regularly

Favorite subject was potions but sucked at them

Very mixed friend group with a lot of Ravenclaws, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, and Gryffindor friends

Played Quidditch with her parents when she was younger

Makes tea with Lily while they gossip

Draws with Marlene

Second tallest in the group and hates that Marlene uses it against her(secretly loves it)

Loves coconut flavored things but hates coconut

Dolly Parton fan

Owns a lot of rainbow things

Loves psychological horror books

Druid

Pandora Lovegood

Very important to me that Xenophilius took her last name

Obviously hippie

Made friendship bracelets for all her friends

Vegan

Had a lot of pets. A lot

A few consisted of three cats, four frogs, two snakes, and a bird(yes she had more)

Grew up in a small cottage with a single mother

Marlene gave her a few piercings

Trans mtf

Ravenclaw

Was really good friends with Lily

She and Lily planed out play dates for Harry and Luna while Pandora was pregnant and before Lily died

Was the one that had the idea for a book club

Flower crown enthusiast

Always wore skirts no matter the occasion

Helped the house elves clean

Painted her nails with Mary

Drove a Volkswagen Beetle that Marlene painted on

Youngest in her group

Hyperfixation on dragons

Asked the sorting hat to put her in Ravenclaw because her favorite color was blue(not to say she wasn't smart enough to be in it)

Hung out a lot with Sybill Trelawney

Lily introduced her to muggle comics and Pandora's favorite hero was Startfire

Bard

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brightlight-dazzlingeyes · 1 year

Text

ibiza night fever | chapter 03

pablo gavi x original female character [+18]

synopsis: to celebrate her recent freedom, sofie’s best friends invited her to spend the summer in ibiza. after four years, a tattoo and countless fights – sofie was single. she was dumped on her 22nd birthday; now all she asks for is a calm and relaxing vacation with her girlfriends – no boys allowed. warnings: age gap, alcohol consumption, smut, angst; minors dni.

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

Chapter 03 | I’m a ruin

“I know I'm playing with your heart

And I could treat you better

But I'm not that smart”

The wondrous vacation continued the next day. The girls decided it would be a Spa Day. Even though they were all in their early 20’s, the chaotic alcohol driven last couple of days started to creep up on them. They needed fresh energy for more chaotic alcohol driven days. At the spa, they were welcomed at the reception with views over the sparkling bay of Cala Xarraca. They were greeted with soothing music and the scent of lavender. They changed into white robes and slippers and headed to a relaxation room. Sofie laid on a massage table, waiting for her Lomi-Lomi Hawawiian massage. Her mind immediately wandered to thoughts of her ex-boyfriend. She couldn't help but wonder what he was doing at that very moment. Was he thinking of her? Or had he slept with someone else too? They had matching tattoos. Got them a couple years ago. Not a lot of people know about it, as it’s quite hidden. Pablo probably saw it, if he paid attention. As the masseuse worked her magic on Sofie's tense muscles, she felt a sense of longing for Thomas. She missed the way he used to make her laugh and the way he would hold her close at night. But their relationship was over for a reason. He left her.

“So you changed your mind?” Chiara asked her as they were getting pedicures.

“About what?”

“Not having sex while in Ibiza. Which, let me just say, was an insane idea to begin with.”

“Oh, you know what? Yes, I did. I came here to feel good, so, fuck it. Feeling desired is part of the healing process, maybe? I don't know.” Sofie was confused, even in the peaceful environment she still couldn't think straight.

“So… I can set you up with other guys?”

“No way! I mean, maybe? Coming here and not sleeping with anyone was like a spiritual journey, but sleeping with just one guy feels embarrassing. Especially a random 18 years old who probably doesn’t even remember my name anymore.”

“Sofie, baby, I’m looking at you and I know for sure he remembers your name.”

The girls enjoyed massages, facials, and a dip in the hot tub. They chatted and laughed, catching up on each other's lives. During lunch, at the spa’s luxurious restaurant, Sofie felt the need to let go of the past and focus on the present.

Pedri texted her in the afternoon with a nightclub address and a questionable Garfield sticker. It was an illustration of the orange cat doing a peace sign. Sofie chuckled and nonchalantly suggested the same nightclub as the girls next destination.

"The Electric Octopus" was known for its wild parties and eclectic music. The club was packed with people from all over the world, with neon lights flashing and the bass thumping so loud Sofie could feel it in her bones. As the crowd pulsed around her, Sofie lost herself in the music, moving her body to the beat. Still paying attention to her friends, she noticed Rebecca looking anxious, scanning the crowd as if looking for a familiar face. There was no way she knew Pedri was here, or that he specifically organized for her to come. But it was like she could feel something in the air, his presence. Call it chemistry, if you will. Suddenly, Rebecca felt a tap on her shoulder and turned around to see Pedri, dressed beautifully in black with a mischievous grin on his face. The two friends hugged, with the man discreetly winking at Sofie, thanking her.

“Come on, we got a private booth.” Pedri guided the girls to the secluded area. The booth had a sophisticated vibe – it’s own private dance floor – plush seating, dim lighting, and a table for drinks and snacks. The place was big enough to fit more than a dozen people, and there were already a few hanging out when the girls arrived. Other young athletic men whom Sofie could only hope weren’t footballers as well, and a couple of gorgeous girls. Pablo was there too, playfully chatting with one of the girls. He didn’t look surprised to see her, but Sofie couldn’t hide her anxiety.

They all got introduced, but even as the time passed by and Sofie got more comfortable around the strangers, she couldn’t shake off the nausea of meeting Pablo under these conditions. He was clearly slightly drunk and overly straightforward with his flirting. Sofie felt small and unimportant. At some point, when Sofie got distracted with the music and their friends, Pablo sat down next to her.

“Hey.” He whispers in her ear. “You don’t get to be jealous.”

“I know, I’m not!” Sofie was blushing and Pablo was adoring it.

“You look jealous.”

They were looking into each other's eyes, way too close. Closer than Pablo was to the other girl.

“Im not.”

“You’re acting jealous.” He’s teasing her, whispering in her ear.

“I’m really not.”

“You look beautiful.” Pablo smiles, admiring her. She really does look beautiful. “Give me your phone number.”

“No.”

“You gave Pedri your phone number, Sofie. This is ridiculous.”

“Yes, well, I like talking to Pedri. He has really nice stickers.”

“I can show you something a lot nicer than Pedri stickers.”

Sofie laughs at that and the boy can’t help but laugh with her. She shakes her head and takes her drink to the dance floor. She tries to put some distance between them. Sofie feels hot. Looking back at the seating area, the girl – Ana – is already back at Pablo’s side. Good. Good.

The room around her only makes her feel worse. Becca is fully making out with Pedri in one corner and her other friends are one drink away from doing the same with the boys they bonded. The booth feels too crowded. Sofie took the french exit and left without saying a word. Outside of the club, feeling the ocean breeze and the island’s cold 2AM weather, Sofie calmed down immediately. The noise and chaos of the club had been overwhelming, and she was glad to be out in the fresh air. On one hand, she was very attracted to Pablo and enjoyed spending time with him. On the other hand, she didn't want to get hurt again. She needed time to think and reflect, to figure out what she wanted and what was best for her. Suddenly she heard someone calling her name. It was Daniel, the yacht owner.

“Sofie, is that you?” Daniel said, grinning. “Wow, you look amazing! What are you doing here by yourself?”

Sofie smiled back, politely.

“I’m just taking a break from the club. It was getting a bit overwhelming there.”

Daniel nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I hear you. It’s crazy here tonight.”

That’s when Pablo walked out of the club. He scanned the area and spotted Sofie talking to someone. Daniel, he recognized him. They were mutual friends. Small world, apparently.

“Hey, guys. What's going on?” He approached them trying to appear casual.

“Oh hey, man!” Daniel turned to him, surprised. The three of them exchanged pleasantries, but Pablo felt insecure around Daniel, who seemed to have a natural ease with Sofie that he couldn't match. After a few minutes of awkward small talk, Sofie asks:

“So, we should get going, right?” Sofie raised an eyebrow, praying Daniel would get her cue. Luckily for her, he did.

"Right. Yes. We should get going. Sorry. mate, see you later?” He taps Gavi on the shoulder and waves goodbye.

They walked along the beach and Sofie tried to start small talk, but Daniel wasn’t having it.

“What was that about? Gavi did something to you?”

“Oh no. It 's not like that. I think I did something to him. Listen, I don’t wanna talk about it. Let me just text my friends, I kind of just dipped on them.”

Daniel nodded and waited for her. “Do you wanna go back to my place? I have some friends over, but it won’t be as noisy as the club.”

“Okay. I guess.”

“I’m not helping you for free, though. I want you to answer a question.”

“A question? Okay. I thought you were about to ask for a blowjob!”

“Girl, I don’t need to ask for blowjobs.”

“Alright…”

“I want to know about Rebecca. And Pedri. Are they together? What 's the deal?”

Sofie stops walking, biting her lips.

“Honestly? I don’t know. But I know she’s not into you. Sorry.”

"That 's okay. I’ll just settle for second place.” Daniel tries to put his arm around Sofie’s shoulder and she pushes him off.

“Hey, fuck off!”

They laugh and he looks at her as if he’s wounded.

“Please don’t tell me you’re into Gavi.”

“I won’t tell you, then.”

In the morning, when she wakes up on Daniel’s couch still wearing yesterday's clothes, Sofie gets a text. 'Pool party today! Bitch, don’t forget! - Luisa.' Sofie groans. They organized a pool party in their villa and Sofie regrets ever feeling excited about anything. There was another text, from Pedri. It was a Garfield sticker. The orange cat was wearing sunglasses and holding a floater. Great, just great.

#ibiza night fever #gavi fanfic #pablo gavi #gavi imagine

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lynn-writes-things · 2 years

Text

jjk characters as types of emos

wc: 2.9k

this was a silly lil idea I had, I had way too much fun writing these lmao

mentions of nobamaki (nobara x Maki), inuokku (Inumaki x yuuta), Miwa x Mechamaru

Tokyo Kids:

Megumi Fushiguro:

- DEFINITELY HAD THE “iTs NoT a PhAsE!!1!1!!” edgy bitch boy phase (ily Megs I’m sorry)

- my chem stan first and foremost (not big on danger days tho; three cheers is his fav album)

- also waterparks and bring me the horizon

- had a BIG black veil brides phase, probably tried to style his hair like Andy biersack and did the makeup to match (but his fav member was probably Jinx if we’re being honest)

- modern day, he fucking loves corpse

- lives in hot topic + spencers every time Gojo takes him to the mall

- you know the leather chokers that kinda look like a collar but they have the spikes on them? yeah

- and the spiky bracelets? yeah 😌

- RINGS!!!!!!

- was mildly invested in creepypasta, not as much as Yuuji, but he definitely has read most the big stories (eyeless Jack is his fav)

- also Yuuji absolutely forced him to watch marble hornets and he might’ve caught feelings for Tim (didn’t we all-)

- OH I ALMOST FORGOT THIS MF WENT THROUGH THE EMO BOY WOLF OBSESSION HARDDDDDDDDD

- let’s be real here….

- it’s his greatest shame to this day, but he’s totally growled at people before

- oh he also totally went through the vampire phase

- HAS ABSOLUTELY READ THE VLADIMIR TODD SERIES

- IT WAS HIS FAVORITE SERIES

Yuuji Itadori:

- ok first of all..

- LOVED creepypasta forums, probably wrote a couple himself

- BUT this mf binge watched the entire slenderverse main ARGs on YouTube (probably watches Night Mind religiously for the in-depth coverage)

- tried to do a spin off Marble Hornets with his friends in the occult club but it didn’t work out ://

- evermanHYBRID was his favorite and now he has a major soft spot for Evan since he too is now occasionally puppeted by a scary ancient evil curse/god

- also likes buzzfeed unsolved! tries to get Megumi to go with him to haunted places cause together they’d have the Shane/Ryan dynamic

- Sleeping With Sirens stan!!

- so needless to say he also loves Pierce The Veil

- totally used to listen to Never Shout Never too

- now…. I HATE saying this…. Truly I do… but I think he would’ve been the type of guy who USED TO occasionally listen to blood on the dance floor BEFORE shit came out about them, he would’ve liked to hyperpop type beat ya know?

- he knows every single word to the phone song by JJ demon

- journey’s is his favorite store, hot topic a close second. not a super big fan of spencers tbh, I think it’d intimidate him and the sex toys would make him uncomfy

- even tho he looks like (and is) a sunshine, the emos gravitate towards him (cough cough, Megumi and Junpei) so he’s always been into all of it

Nobara Kugisaki:

- bit more scene-leanin’

- I think this goes without saying…

- Paramour stan

- has a crush on Hayley Williams (don’t we all-)

- LOVES Halestorm too and has a crush on Lyzzy (again, don’t we all-)

- listens to fit for rivals (Maki introduced her to them)

- she also really likes twenty one pilots!!!

- I feel like she’d favor Spencer’s over hot topic, but she also shops at journeys

- idk I think she’s the type to claim hot topic is TOO mainstream/for posers/etc (but if Maki wants to go, suddenly she’s never loved a store more)

- jelly bracelets of her favorite bands

- TOTALLY had the scene kid neon arm fishnet glove things ya know?

- PON AND ZI COMICS

- “I made you a cookie 😊…… but I eated it😞”

- not super into creepypasta stuff but she PROBABLY read at least some creepypasta x reader fanfics on specifically quotev

- GIR BACKPACK GIR BACKPACK GIR BACKPACK

- tried to learn how to skateboard to impress Maki

- it didn’t really work, but Maki did give her some cool bandaids

- peach monster ONLY

Maki Zenin:

- controversial… hello kitty obsessed emo

- she had the stickers, the bandaids, probably even a purse/backpack

- black veil brides stan!! used to make fun of megumi for dressing up like Andy, but let’s be real, she helped him do the makeup

- I think her fav member would be CC (girl has taste)

- fit for rivals stan also

- she found the Damage music video on YouTube and became a fan of all their music real quick

- has a crush on Renee Phoenix (don’t we all-)

- I think she’d like the slenderverse ARG’s a reasonable amount, not like Yuuji tho

- not big into creepypasta, but she’s read Jane the killer, and probably cosplayed her at LEAST once

- Spencers > hot topic, not a fan of journeys

- flirts with nobara through pon and zi comics

- ALSO went through the vampire phase big time, Megumi got her into the Vladimir Todd series and she borrowed all of his books

- her biggest shame is that she’s read My Immortal and actually didn’t hate it

- homestuck fan!!

- monster energy emo

- I think she could rock a snapback ngl

- skateboards, she’s pretty good at it, not as good as Toge tho

- has a collection of cute bandaids, ranging from basic neon ones, to designs, to characters (has several boxes of hello kitty ones)

- (it is a high honor for her to share the hello kitty ones)

- (this is an honor that nobara is lucky enough to receive)

Toge Inumaki:

- eyeliner!!!!!!!

- does he know what he’s doing? not fuckin’ really, but it works out for him

- probably tries to make his eyes look darker underneath cause he wants to look perpetually tired and depressed like Yuuta

- has absolutely done purple frosted tips before

- you think he was allowed to buy the hair dye to do it? fuck no, he used sharpie and made Yuuta or Panda help him

- paints his nails, I’m thinking black and a purple accent nail

- also wears rings, but daintier ones than Megumi wears

- three days grace stan tbh

- other fav bands include: asking alexandria, falling in reverse, waterparks, the maine, pierce the veil, sleeping with sirens, etc

- my point is, he’s a big time music emo

- he can’t really talk, so he listens to a lot of shit, constantly

- his and Yuuta’s song is black butterflies and deja vu by the maine :))

- skateboards!! he’s really good at it :)

- Yuuta was SO impressed

- shops at Spencers mostly, but if he’s in a mall, he’s usually hanging around the food court trying to look cool (and dragging his friends to chill there with him)

- SUPER into creepypasta, he’s on the same level as Yuuji

- his fav is Ben Drowned

- so obviously he did the cleverbot shit religiously

- did the whole monster tab thing to Yuuta (the KISS one, these are PG headcanons today bitches)

Yuuta Okkatsu:

- “yOu DoNt UnDeRsTaNd My PaIn!!1!11!!!” whenever something minor goes wrong type bitch

- shy boi

- clings to Maki in public cause she always stands up for him

- Maki and Toge have absolutely beaten up bullies for him

- wears chokers!!

- sometimes he borrows rings from Toge

- fall out boy emo

- actually, scratch that, he was big into the fabled 2013 tumblr “holy emo trinity” of fall out boy, panic at the disco, and my chem

- “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” is his anthem

- not into creepypasta really, but he’ll watch/read whatever Toge shows him

- Maki’s homestuck buddy

- watches Dan and Phil!!!

- I also feel like he’d watch markiplier

- FNAF stan (also got Toge into it)

- as far as stores go, he prefers hot topic

- he’s like Yuuji, Spencer’s intimidates him (but he’ll go in with Toge or Maki if they want to)

- literally LIVES off of caffeine, fruit punch Rockstar is his fav drink

- he’s read the Vladimir Todd books, but tbh I think he’d be more of a werewolf guy

- idk man

- cried watching twilight and this is a fact no one lets him live down

- did not understand the monster tab proposal, but when it was explained, this boy combusted (but absolutely did give Toge a kiss)

- this became their thing :)

- also!!! he doodles!!!! he gives himself and his friends sharpie “tattoos”

- let’s Toge paint his nails 🥹

Kyoto Kids:

Momo Nishimiya:

- only mildly emo tbh

- goes without saying, but

- witchcraft emo

- got that 2014 tumblr witchy aesthetic

- sleeping with sirens stan

- supernatural stannnn

- this is canon tho right?

- Halsey stan!!!! taste!!!

- absolutely reads homestuck

- zodiac OBSESSED

- hot topic shopper

- jelly bracelets!!!!

- invader zim fan, has a lot of gir merch

- fake tattoos, 100%

- really really good at gothic makeup

- her fav thing to do is a big batwing liner paired with black or purple lipstick

- watches Dan and Phil, probably ships them tbh

- not into slenderverse ARG’s, but she’s subscribed to Night Mind and watches his explained series on other ARG’s

- don’t hug me I’m scared

- also?? I think she’d like FNAF

- it would scare her, she’d have to watch it with Mai and maybe also Miwa, but I think she’d enjoy it

- oh oh oh, totally gives herself fake (and real) piercings

- buzzfeed unsolved with the homies

Mai Zenin:

- CONTROVERSIAL… BUT!!!

- she at least USED to listen to Die Antwoord

- had a weird crush on Yolandi (I might be projecting)

- I’m dying on this hill, fuck you

- secretly very into creepypasta but hides it from everyone

- the concept of her and Maki having the same favorite band is too funny for me to pass up, but I do also genuinely think she’d love Fit For Rivals

- to throw an even rarer band into the mix, she listens to Icon For Hire

- bring me the horizon stan

- shops exclusively at Spencer’s

- not a skateboarder, but she rollerblades

- I can see her wearing snapbacks, I think it’d look good

- either has or wanted gauges

- watches buzzfeed unsolved with the other Kyoto kids

- proooobably used to watch Brian Starz interviews before.. ya know

- used to watch jeffree star makeup tutorials before, ya know

- fruit punch monster for the winnnnn

- she does stick and poke tattoos!!

Aoi Todo:

- no emo energy, sorry

- I think if anything the MOST he’d classify is that his gym playlist is full of metal music

- MAYBE got a tattoo from Mai

Noritoshi Kamo:

- “yOu WoUlDn’T uNdErStAnD 🙄”

- MY BOY IS A MY CHEM STANNNNNNN

- has to keep it all secret cause of clan stuff

- wears eyeliner, looks damn good in it

- CHAINSSSS

- neck chains, finger chains, belt chains, etc

- his ears are pierced shhhh

- he did them himself with a safety pin

- loves corpse, probably has a lil bond with Megumi about it

- Spencers > hot topic, but still shops at both, not big on journeys

- wants so many piercings, but alas…

- let Mai give him a tiny tattoo somewhere that’s easy to hide

- SUPER into vampires

- he had fun with his cursed technique when he got into vampires lmao

- not real into energy drinks, but he likes coffee

- sometimes he’s been known to nurse a plain monster to look cool

- this man…. writes slam poetry

- probably posts it online under a pseudonym

- he just has too many feelings and he is not allowed to express any of them :((

- wants to dye the tips of his hair red, but he’s not allowed :(

- part of the unsolved club

- creepypasta fan, his fav is ticci toby

- has ABSOLUTELY read My Immortal at some point

- gets upset if someone teases him about it

- he strikes as the type who has read every single goosebumps book in middle school (and honestly, same, good for him)

Kasumi Miwa:

- scene kid!! look at those bangs and tell me otherwise!

- “rawr XD” type beat babey

- Pon and Zi comics @ Gojo (who does not get it)

- but also @ Kokichi (who does get it)

- wants to be edgier, but alas, she is a sunshine

- Never Shout Never fan

- also really likes sleeping with sirens

- likes my chem but danger days is her fav album (she also read all the comics)

- Journeys > hot topic, spencers scares her

- super into creepypasta and slenderverse ARG’s!!!

- her and Yuuji probably talk about them together tbh

- FNAF fan!! probably got Momo into it, consequently also got Mai into it

- she LOVED homestuck

- totally read My Immortal, unironically enjoyed it

- tumblr kid through and through

- probably got super into Superwholock

- also probably watches let’s plays, specifically markiplier and achievement hunter (Gavin is her fav, she misses Ray ((don’t we all-))

- Danganronpa fan!!!

Kokichi Muta:

- I’ll be honest here I do not have a strong grasp on his character so bear with me here cause I know damn well he belongs on this list

- possibly the top of it

- rivals Megumi for top emo

- creepypasta fan ofc, needs something to read

- probably came up with his own, either posted it in the forums or he just wrote his own creepypasta oc fanfics

- Miwa introduced him to Danganronpa, he got super into it

- they play it together :))

- doesn’t shop :// but he’ll go along with his friends if they want to go

- wears a bracelet that Miwa made him 24/7 (its matching, they have little pon and zi charms 🥹)

- read homestuck, wasn’t super into it

- really likes being included in the buzzfeed unsolved nights!!

- similar to Toge, he listens to like… everything

- is it mean if I say his favorite song is I Am Machine-

Now onto the elder emos:

Suguru Geto:

- in his early years he 1000000% was similar to Megumi with the “iTs NoT a PhAsE” phase

- chilled out with age

- (still listens to the same music tho)

- probably worked at Spencer’s tbh

- he really likes my chem!!! Frank is his fav

- also listens to a lot of Franks other bands (Leathermouth was his fav)

- three days grace is his shit tho

- also big into Green Day!

- tbh I think he listened to a lot of dragonforce for awhile

- butterfly knife skills for dayyyysssss

- HAS teased the shit out of his hair at least once in THOSE days

- honestly he probably had a raccoon tail in his hair at some point or another

- the gauges are a given, mf still has them and wears them proudly

- paints his nails black!! sometimes with a red accent

Satoru Gojo:

- not super on this list, he ain’t super emo, might’ve had a teensy bit of a scene phase

- If you’re wondering where Megumi learned to growl at people tho it’s bc Gojo barks

- you read that right, this mf barks at people

- still does

- makes fun of everyone for their taste in music, even though he also listens to some of it

- makes fun of Suguru WHILE BEGGING TO LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC WITH HIM

- steals all Suguru’s band tees, past and present

Kento Nanami:

- has grown out of his emo phase

- every now and then he falls back into the music tho

- DEFINITELY was a my chem stan, super invested

- knew he wanted kids after watching them become parents

- edge lord extreme in his youth, love that for him 🖤

- has the intro dialogue to I’m Not Okay memorized

- he got caught by Suguru while sneaking out of school one night to go to some punk rock concert

- Suguru gave him a ride cause he was also on his way to the same concert

- had the leather spikey bracelets and matching choker like Megumi, gets WHIPLASH when he sees Megumi rocking the same shit years later

- fills him with pride tbh

- he listens to what The Kids are listening to these days, out of curiosity

- doesn’t hate it

- tbh he’s just happy watching the young emos do their thing

- has probably caught SOME of them sneaking out to go to a concert

- obviously drove them himself and told them to call him if they needed a ride back

- protector of the future emos 🖤

Shoko Ieri:

- we’re here for a good time not a long time vibes

- listens to a lot of the maine

- loves halestorm, has a crush on Lyzzy Hale

- has smacked Gojo for making fun of her music taste before and will do it again

- regularly jams out with Suguru

- used to work at Spencers with him, probably stole some stuff and got fired

- piercings!!!

- had her tongue pierced

- probably briefly had her septum pierced too but it got infected from all her smoking and she was too stubborn to quit so she just took it out instead

- I bet… I BET she has her nipples pierced, hot bitch shit ya know?

- honestly probably got them done at the same time as Utahime on a dare

- she doesn’t show it much but seeing the current students getting into the scene makes her happy

- makes her remember all the shit they used to get up to when they were students

- quite literally survives off of peach redbull

- she mixed it with her coffee one day and the boys kept joking that she was a bad example as a doctor

- SILLY BANDS!!!!!!!!!!! The boys steal them from her all the time

Choso Kamo:

- MY LOVE!!!!

- HUGE my chem stan, three cheers is his fav album

- thank you for the venom is his favorite song

- asking alexandria is another of his favs

- likes bring me the horizon too

- Yuuji showed him modern emo bands, he showed Yuuji old emo bands in return

- caught Yuuji in one of his old band tees once, literally gave him some and made him listen to at least one song from every band

- smokes cigs cause he’s old enough to do so

- not too big on energy drinks but can be found drinking coffee nonstop

- HAS SO MANY CHAINS BRO

- has a choker that looks a lot like a dog collar

- call me crazy but I think he could rock a bridge piercing if he wanted to

- pretty rings that will hurt like hell if he punches you while wearing them, do not mess with his brothers 🖤

- smudged eyeliner and black lipstick has ALWAYS been his fav look, probably blends a bit of purple in the middle

- also purple eyeshadow

- black nail polish!!

- overall just sweet elder emo who will protect Yuuji and his friends from anyone who tries to get in their way

#jjk #megumi fushiguro #yuuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #maki zenin #inumaki toge #yuuta okkotsu #momo nishimiya #mai zenin #todo aoi #kokichi muta #noritoshi kamo #miwa kasumi #gojo satoru #geto suguru #choso kamo #shoko ieiri #nanami kento

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