ONE OF THE BOYS
-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]
-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!
Part 1 [Part 2]
-> <-
Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.
“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.
You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”
“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”
Right.
Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.
The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.
Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.
“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”
You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.
Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.
“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”
“No, no,” you shake your head.
“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”
“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.
The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”
Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.
“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”
“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”
Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.
“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”
“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”
“It’s my skin-,”
“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”
“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.
-> <-
Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.
Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.
“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.
Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.
“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.
They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.
“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.
Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.
And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!
It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.
No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.
Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.
“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.
“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.
“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”
“Really?!”
“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”
“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”
“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”
You nod. “I’ll be there!”
“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”
Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.
Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.
Whatever story floats.
Eddie strums a sour note.
“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.
Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.
You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.
Practice would resume tomorrow.
And you were forever and eternally frustrated.
-> <-
“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”
Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.
That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.
“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”
“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.
“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.
There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.
You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.
Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.
You knew better.
Yet, here you are.
Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.
“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”
You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.
“There’s this boy-,”
“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.
You wave your hands. “Robin!”
“Go on!”
“I just - I want to grow up a little.”
The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.
“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”
Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”
Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.
“The usual, Eddie?”
Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.
Robin snaps back into reality.
“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”
Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”
“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.
Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!
“What? It’s just Eddie!”
Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.
“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.
Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”
“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”
“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”
You brush your dirty t-shirt.
“Robin-,”
“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.
Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.
“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.
Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”
You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.
“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”
“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.
Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.
“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.
The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.
Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.
“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”
“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”
“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”
“Clues and shit?”
“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”
“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.
“It’ll be fun!”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”
You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.
“How could you do that?” You shame her.
Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.
“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”
“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”
“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”
“Robin!”
“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.
Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.
“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.
Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”
No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.
You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.
“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.
Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.
“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.
You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”
“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”
You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”
Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.
“Hey!” You protest.
She pauses. “Right, put it on.”
“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”
“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”
You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”
“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”
You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.
“Makeup!” Robin insists.
Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.
Lip gloss that tasted like honey-
“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”
You take a spin in the mirror.
“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.
Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”
You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.
Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.
Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.
You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.
You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!
You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.
“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.
You knew it.
“Erm-,”
“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”
Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”
You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?
“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.
“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”
“The guys?” You blurt.
“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”
“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.
In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.
“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”
“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.
A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.
“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”
Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.
She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.
“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.
You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.
A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.
“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”
Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.
“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”
“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”
You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.
“It’s stupid,” you tell him.
Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”
You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.
“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.
Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.
“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”
“Really?”
“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”
Your cheeks heat up.
“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”
You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”
He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”
You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“Erm- you know.”
“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”
You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.
“We should clean up,” you tell him.
Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”
You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”
“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”
“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”
“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."
"You caught onto that?"
"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."
"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.
"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."
Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.
The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.
Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.
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Blushing, Crushing, and Totally F*cked! Part II
This is the second part to my first fic! Here's the link to that: :)
Summary: Hazel and the reader grow much closer as friends through the club, and after the emotional bonding meeting, they think they might be ready to grow closer in other ways.
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: fem reader (she/her pronouns used), swearing, sexual content (no explicit smut), making out, discussions of divorce, mental health, emotional topics, a bit of hurt/comfort, angsty because I got carried away, etc. Hazel is much less of a loser in this one, but she's just as cute. 18+
Your younger popular self never would have imagined that you would be sitting in a circle with a bunch of losers who you punched in the face every day. Yet here you were, surrounded by violent losers, your favorite loser with a goofy smile on her face sitting to your left. Hazel looked over at you, making you remember how much you never would have expected that smile to make you so weak in the knees.
You still got butterflies thinking about the first time Hazel talked to you; a simple two-word compliment after your first spar made your heart flutter with giddy nerves. The interaction spurred you on enough to allow you to feel comfortable giving her friendly smiles. These quick greetings turned to light touches, then to bolder flirtatious statements, and eventually deep conversations that were cut off by school bells. You wondered when you'd finally gather the courage to discuss what you really wanted to tell her: you had been crushing on Hazel since the first day of eleventh grade. If only your classes were longer than 15 minutes.
"So, we know that the club has been a good way for us to feel empowered physically, but we also thought it could be a way for us to feel empowered emotionally," Josie kicked off the meeting on yet another unexpected note. You were grateful for the interruption in your spiraling thoughts.
The trauma-dumping session began, everyone adding their own little secrets and worries. You felt comforted by the supportive listening ears and voices around you. You had grown so close to these girls, so close that you ached hearing the tales of their pain. You felt your heart clench even more when Hazel timidly spoke up about her tense relationship with her mother.
"It's just been really good for me to get to know people who actually want to know me," she finished, eyes locking with yours before quickly fixing on her shoes.
"I just want to go back to Brittany for a second--" PJ began, but you didn't listen. You rested your hand on Hazel's knee, an offering of support, of friendship, or maybe something else. You completely tuned out the rest of the meeting when her own hand rested on yours. Her thumb stroked your wrist. Your whole body went stiff, but your hand felt like rippling water being held in hers.
"I think that's a good place to wrap up," PJ closed out the meeting, thanking everyone for their attendance as the rest of your friends filed out. You and Hazel didn't move, though. Your hand stayed on her knee, her thumb stayed gently gliding against the back of yours. Her sharp inhale was the only thing that got you to look up from the spot where you touched.
"Thank you," was all she said. You didn't have to ask why she was thankful, and she knew she didn't have to tell you. Something unspoken was always settled between your eyes as you stared.
"You're welcome." You removed your hand, not knowing if it had been there for too long or not long enough. "If you... If you ever want to keep talking about your mom or anything else that bothers you, I'm always here to listen." Hazel's gaze softened even more, which you didn't think was possible.
"Do you want to come over and talk more?" She said it so fast that even she seemed surprised by the question. "I mean-- only if you want to. We could watch a movie or I don't know. If it's stupid, I'm--"
"Yes," you assured her. "Let's go."
Her eyes widened like a cartoon character, so you began rising off of the gym floor to urge her on. "Oh-- okay. Great. Let's go."
...
The ride to Hazel's house was realistically no longer than 15 minutes. It felt like hours, though, with you using all of your energy to avoid staring at her ringed hands on the steering wheel. Your cheeks grew hot at the thought of what they would feel like on your bare skin. Your cheeks grew even hotter when you finally realized that Hazel had already parked the car and was watching you ogle her fingers.
"What are you thinking about?" she asked innocently.
"Nothing, sorry." You pushed the door open, waiting for her to lead you into her house.
One step in, you stifled a gasp. Hazel's home was almost as bright and beautiful as she was.
"Do you want to go up to my room? I can grab some snacks," she offered.
"Sure, sure." You followed her like a puppy as she led you through the breathtaking halls of her house. She gathered various food and DVDs before finally plopping down on her bed when you reached her room. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, unsure of where you were allowed to sit.
"Come here, you freak," she joked, patting the sheets next to her. You laughed as you tentatively sat at the edge of her bed. "I've had enough trauma-dumping for the day, so I'm thinking we should watch some Disney for a palette cleanser." You grinned like a little kid at the assortment of movies she had laid out before you. "Well?" she asked.
"Well, what?" you replied.
"Pick one." She looked up at you through her dark lashes. "The princess gets to pick the princess movie."
"Fuck off," you scoffed, shoving her playfully to prevent her from seeing how red your cheeks had gotten at the nickname. She simply raised her eyebrows, still waiting for your choice. "Fine." You pointed at the purple and yellow Tangled DVD case.
"Classic." She hopped off the bed and inserted the disc. When she rejoined you, you could have sworn she sat closer than she had originally. Don't think about it, you told yourself. You were just two friends who shared lingering glances and hand touches watching the most romantic princess movie known to man. That's all it was.
The movie was as wonderful as ever, if not more wonderful what with Hazel's poor renditions of all of the songs to entertain you. For the most part, you were able to sit comfortably beside each other. You were completely content to watch the screen, that is when you were able to ignore that you could feel her looking at you instead of the TV at times. It became impossible to ignore when the credits began rolling and you had no choice but to meet her eyes.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked quietly.
She hesitated. "I didn't expect you to be so..."
"...not bitchy?" you finished her sentence.
She laughed, "Well, not exactly. I guess I just never would have guessed that you were so kind and supportive."
"Yeah, most people don't expect the popular cheerleader to be anything but a ditsy fucktoy for football players, I guess." You had meant it as a joke, but Hazel shot up in defense.
"That's not what I meant." She shook her head. "I think what I'm trying to say is that I never would have guessed that someone as cool and-- and beautiful as you would hang out with any one of us in the club."
"Honestly," you sighed. "I never would have guessed it either." You shared a laugh with Hazel, marveling at how sweet she sounded when she was happy.
"I'm really glad you joined the club," Hazel told you, suddenly seeming more shy. Her soft gaze melted your heart, yet somehow made you feel braver than ever before.
"You're the reason I love the club so much." You almost whispered it, so afraid of the reaction it would elicit. Hazel continued to look at you for so long that you considered changing the subject as a diversion from your confession. You were unable to speak, though, because Hazel quickly pressed her lips to yours.
The speed of the kiss shocked you at first, Hazel moving quickly as if she were afraid that you would run away. Your hands found her hair and she instantly relaxed, your lips melting together.
You didn't know that kissing could feel this good, this easy, this right. Despite never wanting to stop, you tugged on Hazel's hair to look at her gasping face.
"Are you okay?" she asked you, hands framing your face in concern.
"God, yes," you laughed. "I'm so good."
Your giggles were once again cut off by her lips. They chased yours with more urgency, so you slipped your tongue against hers. She moaned softly against your teeth, spurring on your ministrations until she detached herself from your mouth.
You almost protested at the lack of contact until you felt her wet lips trailing down your jaw and neck. You whined as she sucked and softly bit a sweet spot, reveling in the sound of her moaning at your own noises. Her hands snaked around your waist, slowly climbing up toward your breasts.
"Is this okay?" she breathed against your collarbone.
"Fuck, please." She let out a low chuckle at your begging, her laughter soon muffled against your skin as she slipped her head under your oversized shirt. You felt her breath dance across your tits, aching for her already. After one delicate kiss to your left nipple, moans filled your ears. Hazel emerged from beneath your clothes when you both realized that the sounds were coming from neither of you.
"Shit!" Hazel exclaimed. "I hate it when she does this." She collapsed onto the bed, breathless.
"Is... Is that your mom?"
"Yes," Hazel groaned from behind her hands. "She's very vocal."
"God, I'm sorry you have to hear that." The pair of you couldn't help but laugh at the obscene sounds from down the hall, clutching each other's arms in disbelief as they grew louder.
"I'm just sorry that we were interrupted," Hazel whispered against your hand before kissing your palm.
"I am, too," you agreed. "It's getting late, though. I should go." You nearly got teary-eyed when you saw the sadness on Hazel's face.
"Right," she said. "Let me take you home."
You found yourself wishing that you lived farther from Hazel when she pulled into your driveway after just a few minutes. You planted a quick kiss on her forehead before thanking her and walking to your front door.
"Wait!" you heard Hazel call your name through the rolled-down window. You bounced back over to her. "My mom's not going to be home this weekend. So, if you wanted to come over again, we could... you know..."
"...watch The Princess and the Frog next?" you joked.
Her infectious giggle sounded like Heaven. "You got it, princess." With one more soft kiss, she pulled away from your house.
The weekend couldn't come any sooner.
...
AHHHHH sorry I got so carried away with this but there will DEFINITELY be a smutty part three for all of you sluts. Let me know if you liked this one!
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stars between us - ch.3 - h.c
Here's chapter 3! I'm looking to do a one-shot or two before continuing this further. I'm always taking requests for anyone in my Masterlist. Comment on this post if you'd like to be added to the taglist for this fic!
Summary: The first day of the two-day camping trip with Hazel. I'd recommend the song "how soon is now?" by the Smiths, for at least the beginning of this chapter.
Contains: overwhelming amount of fluff, sad hazel, mean!pj, slight angst, a wee bit of flirting, mention of weed/drugs
To say that you were scared awake is an understatement. PJ quite literally BLASTED a horn into you and Hazel’s ear the next morning. You jolt awake, not realizing you were still holding Hazel’s hand. However, in your jolt, you squeeze it. You then realize that Hazel got very close to you in her sleep last night. You let go of her hand under the covers and rub your eyes.
“Morning Haze.” you said sleepily.
“Morning,” she replied in a raspy voice.
“Gee, aren’t you guys tired! What, were you guys finger-fucking each other all night?” PJ interrupts. All you and Hazel do is give her an annoyed look, as you had barely woken up and were already done with her shit.
“PJ, just because two people slept in the same bed and are tired waking up, does not mean they fucked each other,” Brittany points out.
“Okay, okay. Jesus.”
You and Hazel begrudgingly get out of bed, knowing that staff would be knocking at the cabin’s door to wake everyone up soon. You both got changed into comfortable outfits for the day. Today on the trip, everyone would be picking up trash, planting flowers, and hiking.
“Your shirt is very pretty,” Hazel says as you’re fixing your hair.
“Oh, thanks!” you smile at the unexpected compliment.
“What flowers are those?” Hazel motions to the flowers on your shirt.
“Oh these? They’re irises.”
“Are those your favorite flowers?”
“No, they’re tulips. Do you have a favorite flower?”
“Actually, yeah. They’re daisies.” Hazel smiles, looking at you with her gorgeous blue eyes. You nod, internally reminding yourself to keep that in mind.
“Alright, are you ready to go to breakfast?” you ask Hazel. She nods, and stands up. She looks at you for a second, contemplating something. She shakes out of it though.
“Yeah! Let’s go!”
“Wait, Hazel, I need to talk to you.” you hear from PJ from the corner of the room.
“You can go without me. I’ll meet you there.”
“Are you sure? I can wait, I don’t mind.”
“No, no. Just save a plate of breakfast for me, okay?” You give her a thumbs up and leave the cabin, closing the door behind you. Mid-walk to the tables, you remember that you forgot your book. You make your way back, but hear your name being said in the voices you hear when you’re at the door.
“She probably doesn’t like you Hazel. Look at her, she’s friends with the cheerleaders.” you hear from PJ.
“How is that different from Josie and Isabel?” you hear from Hazel.
“Well Isabel was gay. Your new little friend is not.”
“Well we don’t exactly know that yet. Plus, I want to get to know her. Not stick my tongue down her throat.”
“I’m just saying, don’t get disappointed if she doesn’t hang out with you after this weekend.” after that you hear silence. You hear footsteps, which cause you to scramble away from the door. However, you still need your book. You approach the door again, opening it, and seeing Hazel waiting there, her eyes swimming with tears.
“Hey.” she says quietly, a small break in her voice.
“Hazel. Are you okay?” you put your hand on her shoulder. She nods her head, although you know damn well that that’s a lie.
“Let’s go somewhere else.” You lead Hazel outside, and go about fifteen feet away from the cabin, near some trees.
“Can you explain to me what’s wrong?” Hazel tries to calm down, but keeps on crying. You put your arm around her shoulder and rub her arm soothingly. “Talk to me. Let me know what’s going on.”
Hazel’s breathing becomes less erratic and she’s able to catch a breath. She leans her back against the tree.
“I guess, uh, PJ doesn’t really think that you and I are really friends. She told me that you’re just being nice to me because I’m really clingy, and that like I haven’t stopped being around you since the bus ride.”
“Well, you’ve told me once, and I’m seeing once again, PJ is an asshole. Why are you even listening to her in the first place?”
“I, um, don’t know. She’s known me for a really long time, and I feel like I have to trust her.”
“You can know someone for all your life and not trust them. Haze, I can tell you right now that that’s not true. I’m really excited to spend the day with you today. I mean it. I could’ve just tagged along with Brittany and Isabel today, but I chose to hang out with you. Because you’re cool. And I like you.” Hazel immediately hugs you after you say that. You hug her back. When you two pull away, you teach her a trick to make her eyes less red after crying. The two of you go to the breakfast table and grab two bagels. You sit at a table and make plans for the day.
“What do you want to do today, Hazel?”
“I definitely want to go hiking. Some people were saying there was a waterfall somewhere.”
“I bet we could go while picking up trash.”
“We also need to find a time to look at the stars. I’m not letting myself forget today.”
“I’m hoping the skies are clear tonight.”
The two of you finish up your breakfast and grab gloves and bags to pick up trash. The morning is quite tiring, but you and Hazel’s chatter and jokes help brighten it. Hazel ends up being very funny, leaving you laughing hysterically. For lunch, you eat with everyone in the cabin.
“I’m glad to see that you and Hazel have become friends,” Isabel admitted.
“Me too. I’m really glad you told me a bit about her. I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to talk to her. But I’m glad I did.” Just then, PJ bounds up to the table, her hands pounding on it, causing the five of you sitting to go quiet.
“I have weed for tonight.”
“PJ, none of us like smoking.” Josie points out.
“THAT is why I thought ahead. I got us edibles.”
“And how did you get them?” Brittany asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I gave some old man I came across while planting some flowers like ten dollars.” All of you, being young, dumb teenagers, shrugged it off. The rest of the day was declared free time by the staff, as you all had fulfilled your requirements for the trip.
“Do you want to go on that hike?” you asked Hazel. She nodded, and the two of you left the table to begin your hike. You somehow both still had things to talk about while trying to find the waterfall Hazel had been talking about earlier.
“Oh my god, Hazel! There’s daisies!” you grab her hand to pull her over to the field of daisies nearby. She happily runs with you, picking a few. You do as well, and the two of you stick a few handfuls into your backpack. Eventually, the two of you to get to the waterfall. You both sit down.
“Can I see the daisies we picked?” Hazel asks. You nod, and watch her begin to make a daisy crown with them. She puts one on your head, before you ask her to teach you how to make one. She teaches you, and you put one on her head as well.
“We look absolutely stunning in these.” you say dramatically, putting your wrist up to your forehead.
“You definitely do. You look like the fairy flower princess.” Hazel says, without contemplation.
“And who said there couldn’t be two fairy flower princesses?” you smile and look at Hazel, who looks at you too. Your eye contact with her stays for a few (very long) seconds before the two of you resume talking.
“Are you going to do the edibles PJ brought later?” Hazel asks.
“Maybe. I don’t really know if I’m being honest. I don’t exactly trust PJ’s source.”
“I’ll do them if you do them.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll let you know if I plan on doing any.” The two of you decide to head back, as you were both quite tired from the day, and really just wanted to take it easy for the rest of it. You were looking forward to reading your astronomy book for a bit before stargazing with Hazel, but you were greeted by all the girls in the cabin in a circle, and PJ waving at the two of you.
“Who’s ready for some truth or dare? Huh?”
taglist: @at1nyzen @slaughtercarrie @sophia2414
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