#dramatic gay losers
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kate comes home one day only to find yelena fully clothed in the shower with the dogs blaring my chemical romance looking distraught as yelena whispers to kate that yelenas favourite mac n cheese has been discontinued so kate joins her in the shower in solidarity
#dramatic gay losers#marvel#kate bishop#yelena belova#bishova#hawkeye#pizza dog#lucky#yelena my beloved#yelena black widow#and kate and yelena#spotify#bishlova#hawkeye series#kate bishop x yelena belova#kate x yelena#yelena boleva#yelena x kate#wandanat#wanda maximoff#happy pride 🌈#pride month#autism#natasha romanoff#gay marvel
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am i the trigger of your gyat? your pretty eyes don't give me much rizz
but i'll take them home
i've done some thinking of my own
And when iiiiiii get hOOOoOooome I wanna be done I don't wanna be a rizzler no more🥀💔
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sorry this is turning into a starscream blog. I'm sick in the head, you see
#my partner and friends have peer pressured me into getting into transformers#and well. of course i latch on to the dramatic evil cringe fail loser idiot gay bitch#as if it's my fault (it is)#ari speaks
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I understand that rick intended to make octavian unattractive, however I swear to you that one hundred percent flew over my head during several times when I was reading because he checked off every box for me and I was just like "omg this is The Guy ever!!!"
#pathetic loser. blond. dramatic. likes history. ambitious.#he is the Ideal Guy#(to me)#(i keep saying that so i dont get flamed ik how yall who arent in the octavian fandom feel abt him)#anyways octavian is the loml fr im so gay for this man#octavian hoo#octavian pjo#riordanverse#hoo#heros of olympus#damien shut up challenge
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Rip Regulus Black he would have loved Homura Akemi
#marauders#regulus black#marauders era#homura akemi#puella magi madoka magica#emo gay disasters#they loved getting dramatically killed#loser girl#loser boy
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started off really enjoying a fairly honorable defeat but the drama is getting a bit dreadful i won’t lie
#p#i have 2 more books of hers to read after this but depending on how the next one is i might put off reading the last one for a while#the bell is still the best book so far#best plot best characters best setting#i think it helped having a less mundane setting to develop interesting narratives with simple people for a change#this ones just like. if freud was the editor#how can we make this more dramatic and absurd. We must get freudian boys!!!!#ENOUGH!!!! ENOUGH!!!!! whatever point about society and human relations she wants to make with borderline incestuous relationships#i won’t hear it not like that. any other two people in the story would have created better more meaningful narratives than those two losers#i feel like this entire book is bursting with conversations about hypocrisy and idealism and justice that it didn’t need#this specific relationship to happen and be explored#like at all. the nephew was bad enough. this is pushing it#well i’m interested in the toxic gay drama at least they have a more bearable and interesting plot#so we’ll see -_-
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・゜゜Gamer Ellie Headcannons ・.
NSFW CONTENT BELOW, MDNI
✧.* Gamer Ellie wears those plaid boxer-shorts around the house adorned with some random t-shirt she often sleeps in. When she's out and about, she loves her classic flannel or white wife-beaters, sports bra peeking out of the fabric when she moves just ever so slightly. Converse and doc-martins all the way. You'll beg her not to wear it in public, but Ellie's got this one black Call of Duty t-shirt that is she is obsessed with.
✧.* Gamer Ellie ismore introverted than anything. She likes staying inside with you and watching movies with you rather than going on restaurant dates. Speaking of movies, gamer Ellie would be more into comedy and sci-fi than anything. I've mentioned in previous headcannons Ellie would be a huge Jurassic park fan, but some other movie / shows she'd be begging you to watch with her are Airplane, Star Trek, and Pulp Fiction. Anything with action or on her level of dumb humor, and Star Trek for when she's geeking out. It's her guilty pleasure.
✧.* Gamer Ellie's favorite type of physical touch is having your fingers running through her hair. She likes to feels your touch in such a light, vulnerable way. Sometimes when she's playing a game, you'll approach her from behind and massage her scalp with your sweet touch. "Babe, you're distracting me!" She'll complain with a dramatic but playful groan, but her freckled face will melt like ice on a hot day from your touch.
✧.* Gamer Ellie isn't good at multi-tasking. She loves having you all up in her lap while her fingers are punching keys, but she always seems to lose when you're touching her, let alone near her. Why? Her thoughts are filled with the night before when the two of you were about to fall asleep, giggling in bed about some video on your phone, and specifically she's thinking about when you forgot all about sleep and had a late-night make-out session with some 90's movie tuned out on the television. It's so hard to remember to reload her virtual AR when all she's feeling is the way your warm fingers slid down her back and how your breathing turned into soft pants when she got all greedy and latched her filthy mouth onto your neck. Still, she'd never tell you to get off of her lap so she could focus. You were worth every aggravating respawn.
✧.* Gamer Ellie, in bed, isn't some huge dommy-mommy or whatever you're thinking. She's really touchy, sure. But she's honestly just your average lesbian who is absolutely obsessed with her girl, and she blanks at time. You'll be on top of her, and she's got this cave-woman aura going where she's just staring at your pretty face, focused on chasing your lips for a kiss. Her hands are awkwardly perched on her sides because she forgets how to even touch you: you're such a fucking goddess, and she's kind of a loser. You're a savior, though; guiding her hands to your waist with a sweet, patient smile. Ellie will get the cue and her fingers will spread across your waist to the top of your hips, and she remembers how desperate she is. (This one was inspired by me with my gf, you're so real gamer Ellie)
✧.* Gamer Ellie is also a switch! If you want her to be the top, she'll do it, but like I said she's going to be all cute and embarrassed about it. She'll be eating you out and her thoughts will be going at 100 miles per hour: "Am I doing this right?" "She's moaning Ellie, stop overthinking it." And sometimes the only thought she can really be having is "I love pussy." Cute. When she's bottom, which is most of the time, she isn't really all submissive and whiney but more like, defensively flustered like how she got with Dina when Dina threatened to bite her on the couch. Gay panic type of bottom. She does get pretty loud when you use a vibrator on her, though. That's a personal favorite in the bedroom.
✧.* Gamer Ellie did have a Fortnite phase. She hates talking about it but she spent like an ungodly amount on the stupidest skins. She used to make you watch her play at first, and then it was you having to create a whole Epic account so you could be her duo. Ellie's favorite season? Chapter two season seven. Why? Aliens. She got the battle pass and unlocked the alien skins, too. A little after she got super obsessed with it, like yelling at some 12 year old boy telling him his mother wishes she swallowed him, she moved on to a game that wasn't making her yell at at her screen. You were thankful.
✧.* Gamer Ellie is a huge night owl. While your sleep schedule is pretty average, she will blink and it'll be four in the morning. She'll groan and pop her back before stripping down to underwear and a t-shirt and then crash on your shared bed, making you stir from your rest. She sleepily curls her body into yours, peppering the warmest smooches wherever(probably with her eyes closed or half-way, at least) and muttering out apologies for waking you in the most ethereal voice known to woman-kind (it's raspy and the one she uses during sex when she's attempting to be a good top).
A/N: Thank you everyone for over 500 followers! I hope to post some longer fics this week or at least some more arcane fics. I promised some Jinx content, hopefully that'll be soon. Love you all.
#tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie smut#ellie x y/n#the last of us part 2#ellie x fem reader#lesbian#lesbian sex
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under the mistletoe
kim minji x reader ; fluff
synopsis: your ex is going to be at your cousin's christmas party so you convince your super cute gorgeous amazing stupid idotic hot best friend to play girlfriend for the night--it should be fine, right? it's not like anything real will happen... right? right??
warnings: fake dating but there's like no angst bc they're too gay to be doing all that (i can't write angst idk) ; making out!!! HOORAY!!!!! ; nerd minji my lover ; they're so gay ; kinda fast paced ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread!!!
a/n: wanted to get winter themed fics out for all three before christmas but that prob won't happen LOL anyways this idea has been marinating in my head forever, enjoy!!! oh, and merry christmas!!
“i hate jake.”
minji looks away from her phone, one eyebrow raised as she watches you sink into the cushion even further. this is the third time you’ve groaned dramatically in the last five minutes.
“…jake is your cousin.” she points out, dryly.
“and the worst person on earth.” you mutter, setting your phone down beside you. minji watches you lean over until you flop against her with a very questionable posture. “he’s forcing me to go to his stupid christmas party.”
“and this is a problem because…?”
“because,” you huff, sitting up straight again. “my ex will be there. probably just to annoy me.”
minji immediately makes a face, scrunching her nose in disgust. “ugh, gross… didn’t she dump you for ‘personal growth’ and in that same month started dating a man?”
“i fear.” you reply, crossing your arms. “her egos so big that she probably thinks i’m miserable over her. i got over her the moment i found out she was with a man! she thinks im some stupid, emotionally immature—ugh.“
minji rolls her eyes. “i can’t believe you dated her—for four months.”
“not my brightest time.”
“it baffles me,” minji begins, “i hated her, you know?”
“oh, i know.” you glance at her, failing to hide a small smile despite your frustration. “you were not subtle about it.”
“well i wasn’t trying to be,” she says flatly, setting her phone down and looking at you properly. you peel yourself off her shoulder, moving yourself over to lay flat on your back your couch with one leg over minji’s lap. “so, what’s your plan? you can’t just go and let her get under your skin.”
you let out a long sigh, rubbing your hands over your face. “i don’t know. maybe i just… won’t go.”
“that’s an option,” minji starts, poking at the gingerbread man on your pajama pants mindlessly. “but jake will never shut up if you skip.”
“i know,” you groan, running your hands further up to grip at your hair out of frustration. “what do i even do? show up alone and let her pity me? she’s going to think i’m a loser—a bigger loser than the one she already makes up in her head.”
“you could just… not show up? make an excuse?”
“jake is pretentious—he’ll know i’m bluffing.”
“send him a fake screenshot of the thermometer showing that you have a high fever?”
“no, he’ll know.”
minji sighs, tilting her head as she studies you. “so what’s your plan then? cry in the corner? accidentally spill juice on her—or even worse—on yourself and hide in the bathroom?”
“you’re so mean to me.” you huff, sitting up and leaning against the opposite side of the couch now. you stare at minji for a bit, she’s looking at you with raised brows and a curious expression that makes you sit up straighter. “oh my god, i have a plan.”
minji immediately looks suspicious. “what kind of plan?”
“it involves you.”
“absolutely not.”
“i didn’t even say anything yet!” you kick her thigh, making her push your foot away. “just listen. you play my girlfriend for the night,” you say proudly, grinning at her like it’s the most obvious solution in the world.
minji blinks. “what?”
“we date—not for real—for the party.”
she stares at you for a moment, then bursts out laughing. “you’re kidding me.”
“i’m not! think about it—it’s perfect. she’ll see me with you, someone way better than her, then she’ll get off my back, and i won’t have to spend the whole night dodging her.”
minji shakes her head, though there’s a faint flush creeping up her neck. “and why would i agree to this?”
“because you love me?” you say skeptically, giving her a stupid pout and your best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “please, minji. you just have to stick with me and pretend to like me and plus–you’ll get free food and drinks. please?”
minji hesitates, poking at the gingerbread man on your pants again, the same one right over your shin. you tear your leg away from her, expecting an answer. “i don’t know…” she mumbles.
“i’ll treat you to dinner.” you add, which makes minji shoot her head up.
“dinner?”
“whatever you want.” you promise.
minji sighs, letting her head fall back against the couch. “fine. but only because i can’t stand her either—and i kind of feel bad for you.”
you barely let her finish the sentence before launching yourself at her, wrapping her in a tight hug with your arms around her shoulders. you’ve pushed her down a bit, she’s holding your weight, and her senses are overwhelmed from the scent of vanilla that clouds you and the warmth radiating off of your body.
“thank you!” you exclaim, your voice heavy with relief.
her hands hover awkwardly in the air for a moment before resting lightly on your back. “you’re welcome?”
it’s only then that you realize how close you are—your face inches from hers, your breath brushing against her lips. you can feel her tense beneath you, her gaze flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back again. her lips part ever so slightly, and the light press of her hand on your back falters.
the air shifts, something growing heavier on you two, but before you can dwell on it too long, minji gently pushes you off with a nervous laugh.
“y-you were crushing me,” she says, her cheeks tinged pink as she sits back, putting some space between you. “are you that happy that i agreed?”
“yes,” you grin, unable to stop the warmth spreading through your chest. “you’re the best, seriously.”
“yeah, yeah,” she mutters, reaching for a pillow and chucking it at your head. “just don’t get used to it.”
you groan when the pillow hits you, grabbing it from her hands and leaping over to get her back. you two fight each other playfully on the couch, you even knock minji’s glasses off her nose. and through the bickering, your heart skips a little when she’s trapped one of your legs between both of hers, and you’re trying to defend yourself while pushing her off—hyperaware of the proximity.
maybe playing girlfriend for a bit won’t be too bad.
-
after getting dumped months ago, the first person you turned to was minji.
she didn’t hesitate. the moment she saw your glossy eyes, she pulled you into her arms, holding you close until you calmed down. that night, she didn’t hold back her thoughts about your awful ex, and you stayed over, letting her cook you breakfast the next morning.
you’ve always been good friends, spent a good amount of time together, but somehow, after that night your friendship felt different—deeper—after that.
since then, you’ve found comfort in each other, always finding reasons to be together thrown in with superficial insults. sometimes it’s quiet—her sitting on your couch while you fold laundry and hum along to something playing on your phone, or maybe it’s you at her place while she studies. even when she hates chores, minji pitches in without complaint, and you never question why.
then there are the little outings: a walk in the park, dropping off a package, or now: grocery shopping. it’s nothing extravagant, but somehow it always feels like enough. it’s always enough with her.
you and minji are strolling through the grocery store side by side. minji holds a small basket in her hand while you grab and toss random items in with little thought. she’s squinting at a list on her phone, her lips moving slightly as she mutters the items under her breath.
“i was thinking,” you begin, and minji looks up, quirking a brow.
“oh god.”
“you’re so mean to me.” you flick her shoulder before continuing. “if we’re going to be girlfriends, we need a solid backstory. something believable.”
minji grabs a jar of almond butter and tosses it in the basket. “you’re overthinking this.”
“no, i’m not. what if someone asks us how we got together? we need a solid story,” you argue, “and i know jake is going to be interrogating me as soon as i introduce you—or at least curious, maybe.”
minji sighs. “fine. how about… we were hanging out, just the two of us, and suddenly we just fell in love or something. we confessed while watching a romance film, maybe?”
“wow,” you giggle, “that’s so original. super romantic.”
“it’s simple and probably believable,” she says defensively, nudging you with her finger.
“it’s corny.” you tease, turning and stepping into the next aisle. “how about this: we were at a concert and locked eyes and—”
“that’s even worse.” minji groans, covering her face with her hand.
“i didn’t even finish!”
“exactly. it sounds like hyein made that up.” she snickers, “i can’t believe she’s also your cousin.”
“one cousin that probably won’t make it to the party,” you sigh in relief, “she’d blow the whole plan, knowing how we are.”
“what?” minji questions, curious as to what ‘we are’ is. before she can ask, you cut her thoughts off.
“we’ll go with your idea i guess. but we also have to spend lots of time together, more than we usually do, and we kind of just have to make it believable.”
“that’s nothing.”
“well i can’t really trust you on that, minji. you’re not the brightest.”
you two continue to bicker and poke at this whole ‘fake dating’ ordeal. as you head out to the checkout line, loading your items onto the conveyor belt, an elderly lady in front of you turns around, her eyes twinkling as she smiles warmly.
“you two make such a lovely couple,” she says, her voice kind. “you compliment each other so well.”
both of you freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. you glance at minji, whose ears have turned a noticeable shade of red, and you can’t help but grin.
“uh, thank you.” minji mumbles, suddenly very interested in organizing the groceries.
you don’t correct the woman, instead leaning slightly closer to minji and whispering, “see? it’s already working.”
minji rolls her eyes and shoves you lightly with her shoulder, unable to hide her flustered expression. it’s different than her usual, calm demeanor, and you like it. it’s cute.
you laugh, nudging her back. “you’re kind of cute when you’re like that.”
“what?” minji asks, a lump forming in her throat. “you’re so… you’re so annoying.”
—
countdown: two weeks until the party
you’re doing your best not to think about having to drive almost forty-minutes south for jake’s stupid party at his stupid (-ly nice) house. instead, you’re at your usual cafe spot with hanni, danielle, and minji. the conversation is casual, filling the air, along with the occasional hiss of the espresso machine.
you’re mid-rant, your hands gesturing animatedly as you lean forward. “i’m just saying, if you’re going to take a lit class, at least try to understand the material. this guy skims a few pages of virginia woolf and pretends he’s a ‘feminist.’ he’s doing the absolute most to appeal to women—half that class is gay!”
“which guy was this again? there’s too many men you hate on.” hanni asks playfully, sipping on her latte.
“heeseung. oh my god,” you huff, leaning back in your chair. “he’s so fake. he’ll throw out random quotes that barely connect to what we’re discussing, and the worst part? half the class buys it because he’s loud and confident. he doesn’t actually care about the themes or depth of anything. all heeseung does is show up to class, dress like some girls ‘dream man’ pinterest board, and plays pretend.”
danielle glances up with a small frown. “that’s frustrating. especially since you actually like the material.”
“exactly!” you say, stirring your straw around for no reason at all. “and don’t even get me started on how he turns every discussion into some weird way to hit on the girls in class. like, ‘oh, you’re so insightful. you must be really in touch with your emotions.’ oh my god i can’t stand straight men. i can’t stand people who enable them.”
minji chuckles quietly into her drink. the sound draws your attention, and for some reason, when your eyes meet hers, the air between you shifts. her gaze softens slightly, her lips quirking upward in a way that makes you stare a bit.
“he probably thinks he’s all that.” minji remarks, her voice steady but her gaze soft.
you falter for half a second, your rant losing steam. it’s not just the way she’s looking at you—it’s the way your chest tightens like someone tying a knot and tugging. it’s unexpected, and the way minji smiles down at her cup makes you feel all tingly inside. that’s odd. more than odd.
“yeah, exactly.” you quickly look away, ignoring whatever is making you do a double take. “he’s so one-dimensional, self-absorbed, and i hate him.”
minji bites back another smile, trying to keep her focus on her drink instead of the way you light up when you rant. she likes the way you talk, the furrow of your brows, the passion in your tone. she knows it’s a little dangerous, this quiet admiration she can’t seem to shake, the same admiration she pushed down your first semester. she’s gotten too good at keeping it to herself to lose now, and why now anyway?
hanni nudges you with her elbow. “at least he’s giving you plenty of material for complaints. maybe you could analyze him for an essay.”
you laugh, the sound warm and genuine.
minji’s stomach does a little flip—she wishes it wouldn’t.
“i’d seem like a fan,” you reply, shaking your head. “i’d rather focus on something—or someone—that actually matters.”
the words hang in the air for a second longer than intended, and your eyes dart back to minji’s. it’s fleeting, but there it is again—the strange flutter, like time paused just enough for something to stir.
minji looks away quickly, busying herself by looking out the window, and you clear your throat, turning your attention back to hanni and danielle.
the moment passes, but the undercurrent lingers. neither of you speak on it.
—
countdown: nine days until the party
minji’s apartment is chaos, but the adorable kind. her two-year-old nephew is currently standing on the couch, holding a stuffed dinosaur in one hand and a juice box in the other, refusing to eat the carrot sticks minji had cut up for him.
“you’ll like it if you just try it,” minji sighs, sitting in front of him. he’s sitting on the couch, towering over her because of the level difference. it’s almost comical.
he shakes his head, lying flat on his back and ignoring her.
you lean against the kitchen counter, biting back a grin as minji sighs dramatically and pinches the bridge of her nose. “you’re lucky you’re so cute,” she mutters, and you can’t help but giggle at the sight of her bickering with a child. she pinches his cheek and adds, “otherwise i’d be less lenient, you troublemaker.”
“he’s kind of like you. stubborn… and cute.” you tease, muttering the last part to yourself. you pull out your phone to snap a picture, minji whirling around a moment too late after you capture the scene.
“aw, i’ve got to make this my wallpaper.” you laugh, walking over and sitting down next to her.
minji rolls her eyes, shoving you lightly. “is this for our ‘fake dating’ thing?”
you hadn’t thought about that; in fact, you forgot about it for a brief moment. “oh,” you begin, looking at her with a strange confusion in your heart. “well, no. i thought it was a cute… candid moment.”
“whatever.” she grumbles, but her lips twitch into a reluctant smile as she returns to negotiating with her nephew. “but send me that, please.”
…
lunchtime comes with fewer arguments, mostly because minji bribes the toddler with nuggets. the three of you end up at a cozy cafe, not too far from the one you frequent with your friends. the kid is perched in a high chair between you and minji, eating happily.
minji is effortlessly charming, coaxing him to eat some of the carrots she brought with her and laughing at the attempts of sentences that he babbles. her eyes crinkle at the corners in a way that makes your heart feel a little too full.
you snap another picture when she’s not looking—minji leaning over to wipe ketchup off the kid’s cheek, her expression soft and so full of care it marks your chest ache.
“why are you smiling like an idiot?” she asks, catching you mid-photo.
“no reason,” you lie, slipping your phone into your pocket with a small, secret grin.
…
back at minji’s apartment, the liveliness dies down and reaches something still, something quieter. her nephew gets tired from the walking that occurred after lunch, so when you’re all back home he’s tucked under minji’s arm, clutching his dinosaur.
minji’s in a crewneck and grey sweatpants with two braids resting against the pillow her head is on, loose strands fraying out. she reaches over to drape the blanket over the two of them, and you watch from the door frame as you lean on it.
her eyes close from exhaustion, and that’s when you quietly grab the polaroid sitting on her shelf. it’s a spontaneous decision, but perfect for the moment. you turn it on, smile at the two, and press click. the flash catches you off guard, you’re afraid to wake them—but neither of them budge.
the photo prints out slowly, and once it’s fully spewed out you shake it in your hand so it can develop. it takes a moment to develop, but once it does, the smile on your face grows and stretches from ear to ear: minji’s face is relaxed, peaceful, and her nephew eunwoo is nestled against her with a similar expression. you slide the polaroid into the back of your phone case—just because.
as you turn to leave, minji stirs, her eyes fluttering open just enough to see you.
“stay,” she murmurs, her voice laced with sleep.
“minji,” you start, but she shifts a bit, making room for you while keeping eunwoo comfy. she pats an empty space beside her and grins tiredly.
“just for a little while,” she whispers, her eyes already closing again. “please?”
it’s the ‘please’ that does it. you hesitate only for a moment before stepping closer, your heart beating so loudly that if makes you wonder if she can hear it. climbing into the bed next to her, the mattress dips as you settle, minji instinctively drapes an arm over you, and it feels just right. the warmth of her so close is almost too much, but its perfect in a way you can’t bring yourself to think about twice.
you’ve always been fine with being touchy when it came to minji—lingering on the couch together, playful shoves, nudges, and maybe a limb or two resting on one another—but now? it’s much different. it’s easy to close your eyes and let yourself fall when she’s so close.
…
you wake up to the light outside fading, the room covered with the remnants of the sun shining through the window. minji is still beside you, her face turned toward yours, her breathing slow and even. her nephew is a small weight against her other side, pressed against her with the way her hand is angled and still clutching his dinosaur.
minji’s eyes flutter open just barely, and she looks at you like she’s still dreaming. there’s something unsaid in the way she gazes at you, something quiet and tender and a little overwhelming.
you don’t say anything, and neither does she. but the more the silence stretches on and with each slow blink she gives you while her lips form into another small smile—you realize you don’t want the moment to end.
she’s close, warm, and comfy—that’s minji. you realize it then as the sun continues to set, as your breaths are the only sound filling the room, and as minji absentmindedly strokes her thumb against your shoulder repeatedly that you wouldn’t mind being her real girlfriend. not if it meant being this close to her whenever you wanted and getting to love her on a different level.
the thought doesn’t scare you. it doesn’t feel rushed or strange or anything too overwhelming. it just is. the thought simply lingers in the air.
she shifts slightly, her arm moving over to rest on your back before pushing you closer to her. she lets out a content sigh as a full smile takes over. your heart flutters, and you smile back, just as soft.
eunwoo stirs, a little groan wakes both you and minji up a bit more. his voice breaks the moment as he mumbles something incoherent, and you see his little hand reaching over and squishing minji’s cheek in the process, even messing her braid up a bit more. you laugh at the sight and minji turns to him, brushing his hair back gently.
“time to wake up,” she murmurs lowly. “your mom might show up soon.”
the three of you wake up slowly, with minji being the first one to rub her eyes and sit up first. before she tends to her nephew, she glances at you with a strange new feeling in her eyes and it makes you think that maybe she feels the same way. maybe she wouldn’t mind if the agreement could stretch to new years and further. maybe she wouldn’t mind if it weren’t fake.
—
countdown: five days until the party.
minji stays near your side as you navigate the packed clothing store with her, hanni, and danielle. there’s a variety of t-shirts that you stop by so you can skim through, dresses that hanni and danielle consider buying for their sisters, and assortments of accessories that you all try on together, snapping pictures to add to your favorites folder.
“this is hideous,” you mutter, holding up a sweater that resembles a traffic cone but ten times more saturated.
“you should try it on,” minji insists with a smirk, already holding a ridiculous blazer with sequins lining it. “with this too. your ex won’t know what hit her, maybe the light will reflect off you and she’ll—”
“you think you’re so funny,” you narrow your eyes at her. “i can’t be the only one stealing the spotlight with my… hazardous outfit, can i? as my girlfriend you have to compliment me.” you grab the most outrageous pieces you can find—a neon, yellow turtleneck and pants that are somehow both plaid as they are glittery—then shove them into minji’s arms.
“so you want to play like that?” she grins, darting off to find something even worse.
hanni and danielle stand off to the side, watching the chaos unfold as you and minji start handing each other more and more ridiculous items for each other to try while giggling like middle schoolers. hanni’s shaking her head, her lips twitching into a smile. “they’re like an actual couple.”
“they really are.” danielle agrees, watching minji as she holds up a pair of fuzzy reindeer slippers and waves them at you like she’s found gold.
“you’re going to look amazing in these,” minji says, basically cackling.
“you’re going to look even better, babe,” you retort, putting a dramatically large hat on top of her head.
the entire store can probably hear you two laughing like idiots as you head into the dressing rooms, but neither of you care. and when you both step out, dressed head to toe in the most absurd clothing, hanni is the first to burst out laughing, immediately pulling her phone out and documenting everything. danielle hides her face behind her hands, trying not to laugh but failing miserably.
minji steps out and winks at you. she’s clad in an oversized t-shirt that says “elf of the year” and the glitter, plaid hybrid pants you handed to her. she looks like an absolute idiot, and you figure this might be the moment you really fall for her.
“you look so stupid.” you laugh at her with an amused look on your face.
“you know,” hanni says between giggles, “if you two show up to the party like this, you’ll definitely convince everyone you’re together.”
danielle nods, her cheeks pink from laughter. “you’re already convincing enough.”
minji glances at you, her smile softening just a little. “maybe we’re overthinking the outfits,” she teases, but there’s something in her eyes that lingers longer than it should.
you shake it off. “maybe.” you say, your tone playful as you walk back into the dressing room.
“you’d still look good in that, though. you do now.” she replies, but her voice is quieter, as if she only wanted you to hear it.
instead of letting yourself get flustered, you roll your eyes and step inside the changing room, looking in the mirror to see a faint blush on your cheeks.
—
countdown: <24 hours
you’re curled up on the couch with minji since both of you have been much more comfortable with being this close. a movie plays in the background, her arm is wrapped around you, and a blanket covers your legs that tangle together. the movie is something light and easy—your pick, though you can’t seem to focus on the plot.
minji feels your leg tapping up and down subtly against her, notices your tongue poking at your cheek, and the way your fingers fidget with one another. she’s aware of everything, of course she is. she’s sitting close enough that you feel her shift toward you, her presence grounding but not enough to fully settle your nerves.
“you’re doing that thing again.” she says.
“what thing?” you mumble, avoiding her gaze.
“the thing where you’re silently spiraling, fidgeting, freaking out—the latter.” she says simply, turning to look at you. “what’s on your mind?”
you sigh, pausing the tap of your leg and fidgeting and everything else. you run a hand through your hair before letting your upper body go limp against the cushion of your couch and minji’s forearm. “the party… i feel like it’s going to go bad or something. my ex, she’s… she’s so unbearable and extra! she’s only invited because she’s friends with jake’s girlfriend and ugh i don’t even know if this whole plan is going to work out because she knows you and—”
“hey,” minji cuts you off gently, and before you can protest, she reaches out and places her hand on yours. her touch is warm, her thumbs brushing over your knuckles before she boldly moves her hand over to your face now, cupping your cheek. “it’ll be fine,” she assures, and her voice is so steady that you almost believe her.
you blink, your breath catches, then shivers when you breathe out as best as you can. she’s looking at you with her pretty brown eyes through the frames that make her look like a huge nerd while simultaneously the cutest person as well and—
“minji…” you start, her name leaving your lips before your brain can process it. your stomach is doing something stupid and fluttery, the tension crackles between you like wood in a fire, keeping you two in place, pulling you closer.
you flinch at the sound of the abrupt buzz of your phone beside you. it snaps the moment in two, making you glance away from her as reality takes over again. she pulls her hand back slowly, resting them back on your hand instead.
she leans back and lightly mumbles, “you should get that,” her voice quieter than before.
you reach for your phone, your chest tight and your mind racing as you answer it.
it’s jake. of course it’s jake. his voice on the other end barely registers, something about ‘you’re coming, right?’ and ‘don’t bail on me!” followed by a stupid chuckle. your thoughts are still stuck on minji, and you’re wondering if the tension in the air weighed her down just as it did to you.
the call drags on, you glance at her from the corner of your eye. she’s staring at the screen, pretending to be absorbed in the movie, but her fingers fidget with the blanket. you can tell she’s just as thrown off as you are.
when you finally hang up, placing your phone back down beside you, minji looks over with a brow raised.
“jake,” you answer, even if she never asked anything. “he’s… yeah. just checking up on me.”
“right.” minji purses her lips.
you two sit awkwardly far from each other as the movie continues on, but eventually, you can’t take it anymore and return to your normal position. this time, your head rests on her shoulder comfortably, and your hands are intertwined. minji rubs her thumb against the back of your palm, and you think you could stay like this for hours.
–
countdown: finished!
minji parks the car and you take a deep breath in.
“relax, babe.” minji’s attempt at lightening the mood makes you smile softly. “we got this.”
“you sure?”
minji rolls her eyes, then takes your hand in hers as she does a rundown on your ‘relationship.’
“we’ve been friends for a while, i fell first but you’re the one who confessed first while we watched a romance movie—”
you cut her off, “and?”
“and after that we’ve been glued together by the hip. i know your likes and dislikes by default, um, our first date was… by the river? bike rides…?”
“you don’t sound certain.” you tease, “but you’re right.”
“whatever. and that’s it. everything else is just… our um, friendship.” minji’s voice dies down a bit when she says ‘friendship,’ the word articulates as if it were bitter on her tongue. “now let’s go.”
you and minji are side by side, her shoulder brushing against yours as you step through the door. music and scattered conversation are heard throughout the house, and you instinctively stick close to her. jake is the first to greet you, his grin wide as he pulls you into a quick hug.
“you made it!” he beams, then his eyes dart to minji. “and this is…?”
“this is minji,” you introduce, your tone casual while your thumb begins to scratch at your skin.
“minji,” jake repeats, a teasing edge creeping into his voice. “didn’t know you were dating anyone… you know she’s here— well, never mind that. guess we need some more time to catch up, huh?”
minji laughs softly, her hand lightly grazing your arm. “it’s a recent thing, few months.” she says firmly.
“yeah, kind of a surprise for us too. it happened out of nowhere, but i’m really happy.” you add with a shrug, trying to ignore the heat spreading up your neck. jake raises an eyebrow but doesn’t push further, to your surprise, and waves you both inside before giving minji a friendly side hug.
the party is more crowded than you expected, a mix of familiar faces and strangers scattered throughout the house. it’s not really a family gathering, not with the way jake’s friends have taken over the kitchen and living room. he’s always had a thing with turning events, even familial, social.
you and minji linger close, navigating through the small groups with an ease that surprises even you. every so often, while you’re greeting some mutual friends, you catch her glancing at you, a smile tugging at her lips and something in her eyes that you can’t decipher.
“when you said your cousin was inviting you to a holiday party… i expected it to be very formal and family-like.” minji murmurs as the two of you settle on the couch in the living room, plates of food balanced on your laps.
“he invites the cousins that are older and are on good terms with him.” you reply, rolling your eyes fondly. “he likes things like this. but hey, he’s fun, and he knows how to grill.”
minji laughs, nudging your leg lightly with hers. the sound is soft and warm, cutting through the background noise and settling somewhere deep in your heart.
as the two of you eat, you find yourself leaning into her presence without thinking. her knee bumps against yours and neither of you moves away.
“i’ll grab us some more soda,” you say after a while, setting your empty plate on the table and standing.
“don’t get lost,” she teases, her smile lingering as you head toward the kitchen.
you glance back once, catching the way she watches you leave. it’s subtle, but it’s enough to make you feel like she really adores you.
…
cold air hits your face as you dig past cans of beer and bottles of wine while you shuffle through the fridge. you finally spot the sodas in the back and grab two coke zero’s, but the condensation already makes your hands feel slick and damp. as you shut the door, you hear someone clear their throat.
turning, you come face to face with her. it’s like being hit with a wave you didn’t see coming, but at the same time you were preparing for it. now that it hits you, it’s really chilling. her hair is a little different, her smile just as sharp, and she seems as pretentious as before. you’re surprisingly able to stay calm.
“hey,” you greet sweetly, forcing a casualness into your voice that you don’t feel.
she tilts her head, a little smirk forming. “hey, it’s been a while.”
“it has,” you reply, gripping the sodas just a little tighter.
before the conversation can turn into something messier, a guy steps up beside her. tall, charming, and really just a face that resembles all the guys that she would compliment while you two were dating. “this is yeonjun, my boyfriend.” she says, her words are slow and deliberate like shes shoved a nail into your skin and twisted it.
you smile tightly, nodding at him. “nice to meet you, i’m an old friend of hers.”
the air is heavy, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to falter. your hands are damp now, the condensation dripping from the cokes, and you’re wondering how to get out of this.
someone answers your prayers. a warm hand settles on your waist, grounding you instantly when the familiar warmth is recognized. then, soft lips press to your temple. your heart stutters in surprise and your brain malfunctions momentarily. you turn your head slightly, catching the familiar scent of minji’s floral perfume before you can even see her.
“hey, love,” love? that’s a new one, but you can’t say that you hate it—especially when it comes out so naturally from minji.
she reaches over to take one of the sodas from your hand and when you glance back over to your ex—it looks like someone just slapped her. “minji?”
minji smiles politely, her hand still resting at your waist, tugging at your waistband not so subtly. “yeah, nice to see you again. i was wondering what was taking y/n so long, i was getting thirsty.” she gives you a soft glance as she chuckles.
you manage to recover quickly, leaning into her touch. her presence fuels your words, “i was just catching up,” you explain, gesturing toward your ex. “oh, right—you remember minji, don’t you?” you pause for just the right amount of time before looking at her lovingly, adding, “she’s my girlfriend now.”
your ex blinks, surprise evident in her expression. “oh. wow. i didn’t know… you two were—”
“yeah,” you interrupt, turning toward minji with a grin you don’t have to fake. you can’t remember the last time you faked anything with her, really. “she’s amazing. i’m glad we’re together, she’s lovely.”
minji rolls her eyes before moving her hand up to your shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “you’re doing that thing again.”
“what?” you question.
“being so fond,” she twirls a piece of your hair with her finger, “you’re too sweet to me.”
“because you’re my girlfriend, idiot.” you giggle right after that, and minji follows. “i’m not lying when i say all those things.”
minji smiles at you, something mellow and real in her eyes. you can tell she knows exactly what you’re thinking. her hand moves over to cup your cheek briefly before she uses it to open her can of soda. she glances back up at the pair in front of you, your ex and yeonjun, giving them an intimidating glare—directly mainly to your ex.
“we should get back, jake was asking about you.”
“was he? i guess we should…” you say, glancing at your ex one last time, her expression unreadable now. “it was nice seeing you again.”
minji steers you away, her presence steady and comforting as she leads you with her hand returning to your waist. you don’t miss the way your ex’s gaze lingers on the two of you, but that doesn’t cross your mind anymore. not when minji’s here, leaving you flustered and happier than you’ve ever been.
—
the living room is filled with laughter and conversation when you and minji step back inside. your cheeks are still warm from the cold air outside—or maybe from the conversation you just had, both of you had been reminiscing on how harsh minjis nephew eunwoo can be towards minji. her laugh lingers in your mind, and for a moment you almost forget where you are.
“there you two are!” jake’s voice cuts through the noise, and everyone turns toward you and minji as he gestures for you to join the group. “you’re just in time!”
but then you notice it—the small branch of green hanging above your heads: the mistletoe.
jake grins, wide and mischievous as if this were part of his plan. “looks like you two are under the mistletoe~” jake points out as if he’s a child.
the room quiets, and suddenly, every pair of eyes is on you and minji. your shoulders stiffen and minji’s hand brushes against yours.
you glance at her, and she’s already looking at you, her face flushed but calm. you’d stare for a moment longer, maybe tease her for how cute she looks, but you’re in the spotlight now. there’s something steady in her eyes, like she’s silently saying, it’s okay.
someone whistles, and the teasing murmers start, but they fade into the background when minji tilts her head slightly toward you, her voice low and gentle. “we don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
you shake your head, a small smile forming. “it’s fine,” you whisper back, “it’s just a kiss, right?”
she nods, her expression mirroring yours—reassuring, gentle, and maybe just a little nervous.
and then, without overthinking it, you both lean in. the kiss isn’t hurried or awkward—it’s soft and lingering, not too much but far from a quick peck. your hand brushes against her neck, and for a moment, everything kind of blurs except her.
when you pull back, the room erupts into cheers and coos of “aww,” but you barely hear them. your eyes are still locked on minji’s, her cheeks a shade of pink that you will definitely comment on later.
before you can process anything, her hand comes up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. she leans in again, this time pressing a brief, tender kiss to your lips. it’s a kiss that’s not influenced by the branch above you, a natural, instinctive kiss that makes your heart stop beating for a bit.
you both pull away, a silent realization settling between you. something’s changed. something you can’t quite name but can sense in her dilated pupils, slight bite of her lip, and bright smile.
“okay, okay, lovebirds. sorry about my cousin and her girlfriend,” jake jokes with a laugh, breaking the moment and taking all the attention off you two. “i just wanted to thank you all for coming.”
his words don’t process, in fact, you don’t really hear much of it because minji’s fingesr slip between yours, warm and steady. as jake continues talking, you glance down at your joined hands and then back at her.
you squeeze her hands lightly. the feeling is new, but it feels like it’s always been there. it feels good, it feels right.
…
once jake’s speech ends, you catch minji’s eye. there’s longing in her look, she’s asking a silent question and you have the answer. without a word, you grab her hand, weaving through the guests and slipping up the stairs unnoticed—they don’t know your cousin’s hosue like you do.
the hallway is dim, shadows playing on the walls as you pull her to a stop. before she can say anything, you turn, your hands finding her cheeks, and kiss her.
it’s different this time—no crowd and no stupid mistletoe hanging above. it’s just you two. you, and minji, with her lips are pressing against yours softly. she tastes sweet, warm, and familiar, and the way her hands rest under your jawline sends a shiver down your spine.
you pull her closer, hands moving down and pulling at the fabric of her shirt like you’re trying to stop yourself from losing your balance. her lips move against yours in harmony, in sync, and nothing else in the world matters except the two of you in that moment.
when you two finally break apart, you’re both breathing heavily—from kissing so much and from utter shock. minji’s eyes search for yours in the darkness, her lips parting slightly as she catches her breath. “come on,” she murmurs, tugging your hand gently.
she pulls you into a nearby room, and you barely manage to glance around before realizing who’s room it is.
“minji,” you whisper, stifling a laugh, “this is jake’s room.”
“i could care less,” she cuts you off with another kiss. her lips are insistent, and her hands find your waist again, drawing you closer. “when i kiss you, i just— i can’t help but want to kiss you more and more and more and more.”
her confession is punctuated by kisses–soft, desperate, and consuming. you melt into her, your hands threading through her hair as you let her guide you toward the bed.
she’s nearly on top of you, her legs on either side of yours with he lips trailing to your jaw, then back to your lips.
“i want to be your real girlfriend,” she whispers nervously. “i want to kiss you like this, be with you, everything.”
you pause, cupping her face in your hands as you pull back just enough to meet her eyes. she looks at you, eyes lidded and vulnerable. your heart swells.
“i want to be your real girlfriend too,” you confess, using your thumb to stroke her cheekbone. “i think this is the best present i’ll ever get.”
she giggles before closing the distance again—instant, radiant, eager— and you can feel her smiling against your lips.
“should i put a bow on myself and lay under the tree?” she says when she pulls back, but just enough so your lips ghost each other. “to seal the deal.”
“you’re impossible.” you laugh, digging your fingers deeper into her scalp before pecking her quickly. “we should take this to the car… jake will kill me.”
“i think we can settle for a few more kisses.”
“is there a mistletoe constantly hovering over you?”
“no…” minji mutters, “but maybe we could steal the mistletoe and make it happen.”
you roll your eyes at her, but regardless you close the distance once more. and just when you think she can’t be more of an idiot—she proves you wrong.
“and you still owe me dinner, by the way.”
“whatever,” you mumble in adoration, “it’s a date.”
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Trailer Park Steve AU part 4
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
September
He doesn’t talk to the Munsons much. (Doesn’t talk to anyone, really, aside from his mom and Robin and that one older woman who keeps renting and returning Gone With The Wind as an excuse to leave her house.) He keeps his head down and his nose clean, doesn’t care to make friends with the neighbors; just wants to get by.
One day Eddie approaches their door, waving a gas bill that got mixed up in their mail, and Steve greets him pleasantly enough.
“Stab anyone today?”
“Eat glass, Harrington.”
So it goes.
Steve watches the world pass and the weather turn, lets the hours bleed into weeks and squeezes his eyes shut against the flashbacks when they threaten to overwhelm.
Things with his mom are weird.
They don’t really speak, preferring to shrug their way past each other with careful, tight-lipped nods, and his mom takes these pills the doctor gave her that keep her perfectly pleasant and calm. Silent. Physically present but not really here.
And he can’t imagine how it feels to be her: Florence Harrington, ripped from the comforts of the upper crust and left to rot in a tin can seven miles across town. She spends most of her time letting out weary little sighs as she swans from room to room, drifting like a shade on the banks of the River Styx. (He can make that reference now because Robin won’t shut up about mythology. “It’s so gay, Steve. The Greeks were literally so gay.”)
Anyway.
Shit’s weird with the kids, too. He still drives them around — lets them loiter at Family Video when it’s slow; hangs around when they need a ride to the arcade or the movies or the skating rink; and he’s still on the hook for ‘ice cream. for. life,’ so…
It’s just not the same.
Like. Not to be dramatic, but who the fuck is Steve Harrington without the house and the pool and the free-for-all fridge? Just some kid with a car and a bat and a punchable face. And he can barely afford to keep the car now, anyway, so pretty soon they won’t need him for that, either. They’ll learn to drive; they’ll get their own jobs. Maybe Lucas builds enough muscle to take over as the party tank.
Maybe it’s better if he shelfs himself now before they realize he’s become obsolete.
“Oh, my god, you’re being pathetic,” he groans to himself. His voice is muffled where he’s lying face down on the couch. Ridiculous behavior, because everything is fine; Steve is fine. In the grand scheme of things where there are monsters and melted corpses and all kinds of crazy, horrible shit?
Yeah.
He’s being obnoxious. It’s a lovely sunny Saturday afternoon with just the right Autumn breeze going — gentle but cool; long sleeve polo weather; his favorite kind — and he’s sitting inside throwing himself a pity party.
Fucking absurd.
…Five more minutes.
Just five more minutes, then he’s getting off this couch.
He gets to a minute and a half when he hears the crunch of tires against the gravel, the clanging of a little bell from the handlebar of a bike, and then:
“STEVE!!!”
And that’ll be Dustin, trying to bang the door off the hinges and piss off the whole park at the same time. Kid’s nothing if not a multitasker. Steve lets another aggrieved groan loose into the couch cushion.
His mom’s out with the car; the lights are all off. Maybe he can just play dead ‘til Dustin leaves? He loves the kid, he really does, but his left ear is full of static, and he just wants to fucking sleep. Or sulk. Or both.
“STEVEN CHRISTOPHER, I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE.”
Jeeeeesus Christ. “Okay, chill,” Steve grumbles as he hauls himself upright and throws open the front door. His limbs feel like lead; there’s drool on his chin. “Wake the whole goddamn neighborhood, why don’t you?”
“It’s two in the afternoon.”
“Yeah, and half the people here work nights.”
“Oh-kayy,” Dustin drags out the word, “but you don’t.”
Ugh. Whatever. He’s not gonna be shamed by a toothless teenager for his depressing loser tendencies. “Did you need something?”
Steve scratches at his belly hair through his shirt, feels a muscle twinge in his shoulder and send a spark of nerve pain skittering up to the base of his skull.
Dustin either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that Steve’s body is falling apart where he stands, because he just rolls his eyes and says, “Uh, yeah. I need to know why you’re avoiding everyone? Mom’s tried to invite you to dinner six times now.”
“I was working.”
“All six times?” Dustin glares. Steve feels a little pinned by it, feels guilt seeping through the cracks as he fidgets with his bad ear. This kid’s gonna be the scariest lawyer some day. “She’s worried.”
Goddammit.
Guilt squeezes hard behind his ribs; he knows Dustin uses his mom as a mouthpiece for the feelings he can’t express. “I’m fine,” he sighs, letting his eyes and voice go soft. “Honest.”
Dustin holds firm, gaze fierce and fists clenched. “Bullshit,” he insists.
“Man, don’t—”
“Bull. Shit.”
Suddenly, their impromptu interrogation gets interrupted by a crashing drum fill, a shriek of electric guitar as Munson’s van squeals into the lot. He’s blasting some melodramatic metal shit about wizards or whatever; Steve doesn’t know. He only knows that the skitter of nerve pain he felt is ramping up to a fullblown migraine now because this guy has to listen to his racket at full fucking volume, apparently, and isn’t this all just “fucking great.”
—
part 5
#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steddie fic#trailer park steve au#steve can have a little depression as a treat#robin buckley#dustin henderson#claudia henderson#my writing#my fic
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YET ANOTHER ROUNDUP OF ASOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF
ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to be a bit silly <333
CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.
SPECIFY muse for multimuses.
❛ I am not merely a clown; I’m the entire damn circus! ❜
❛ I will bite you if you continue this behavior. ❜
❛ Being a dramatic ass bitch isn’t a personality trait; it’s a lifestyle! ❜
❛ Trauma? Oh … you mean, my lore? ❜
❛ why must I cite sources? is it not enough to just say ‘trust me, bro’? ❜
❛ sorry for being a perfect sweetie and a genius it will likely happen again. ❜
❛ forget about touching grass; I need to touch WATER I NEED TO GO INTO THE OCEAN I NEED TO DIVE INTO THE SEA!!! ❜
❛ I’m attracted to men with muppet energy and no i will not be explaining. ❜
❛ you want me to make friends with people? the thing that killed julius caesar? ❜
❛ what’s your birthstone? mine is rock bottom. ❜
❛ I absolutely hate that I’m not bioluminescent. Pathetic. ❜
❛ ohhhhh my god i have got to stop mourning the past or whatever. ❜
❛ you expect me to act like a normal human being? I’m wearing a turtleneck! ❜
❛ i don’t struggle with same sex attraction I’m actually very good at it. ❜
❛ unfortunately i often find out without even getting the chance to fuck around. ❜
❛ I’m bisexual which means that I’m attracted to anybody who can defeat me in physical combat. ❜
❛ all anyone needs to know about me is that i’m a dumbass and i love women. ❜
❛ sorry but philosophers aren’t impressive i came up with stuff like that when i was 12. ❜
❛ I pay my own bills; I can cuss all I want! ❜
❛ I don’t have rizz; I have sad eyes and a weird presence. ❜
❛ my demons are chasing me and they’re doing the Naruto run. ❜
❛ honey we are ALL doomed by the narrative. it's not that serious. have some fun with it. ❜
❛ dating me is like interviewing a psych ward patient. ❜
❛ being a girl with very large brown eyes comes with great responsibility. ❜
❛ i’m autistic in ways that you can’t even begin to imagine. ❜
❛ being a loser may be a phase to you but its a lifestyle for me. ❜
❛ entering a magical portal in the woods would fix me. ❜
❛ I’m lonely but not in a hot mysterious way; more like in a pathetic way. ❜
❛ life is so unserious just say womp womp and move on! ❜
❛ you’re vibing? In this economy? ❜
❛ just because I’m small doesn’t mean I can’t kick your ass. ❜
❛ my primary motivators are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ❜
❛ sorry about the chaos; I needed attention. ❜
❛ WHAT IS UP GIRL you look foreboding and malicious! ❜
❛ baby i can be your problematic bi wife. ❜
❛ i don’t think any of you understand how important i am to the plot. ❜
❛ what if we are both red flags? what then? ❜
❛ any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ❜
❛ my hobbies include being right, being gay, and being a hater. ❜
❛ i have a phd in Loving The Color Pink And Also Glitter. ❜
❛ being a menace to society is a full time job and I am dedicated. ❜
❛ my life has been a bouquet of oopsie daisies. ❜
❛ i survive on spite, anxiety, and blasphemy. ❜
❛ if you’re not obsessed with me, why would I wanna be with you? ❜
❛ the hottest thing a man can be is a little afraid of me. ❜
❛ my love language is being a hater. ❜
❛ i don’t get enough credit for acting far less insane than i actually am. ❜
❛ the A in my name stands for always right. ❜
❛ Jesus is my homeboy but God has a lot to answer for and I will continue to be rebellious until he does so. ❜
❛ I’ll see a man with long hair and then remember that I’m not above temptations of the flesh. ❜
❛ i’m going to be honest with you I’m not going to be honest with you. ❜
❛ stop asking me if I’m ok I’ll literally make out with you. ❜
❛ part of my masculine charm is that I’m literally insane. ❜
❛ are you sure those are demons bro? or are they consequences from the choices you made? ❜
❛ i do not identify as a boy or a girl. i identify as a nuisance, an irritant, a fool, and a problem. ❜
❛ praying on someone’s downfall isn’t enough i need to participate in it. ❜
❛ we all need to chill. i won’t do it first but it’s something i noticed. ❜
❛ not to sound like a Victorian woman suffering from hysteria but going to the sea would fix me. ❜
❛ the silly goose convention called; they asked if you could be their keynote speaker. ❜
❛ i deserve unrestricted access to old castles and old churches i want to know all the secrets. ❜
❛ doesn’t matter if you’re cringe or based we’re all just here to suffer. ❜
❛ I’m no longer comedic relief I’m now serious panic. ❜
❛ this is getting difficult to romanticize. ❜
❛ done healing my inner child. next up is my inner teen. her highness needs a sword. ❜
❛ i am God’s silliest experiment. ❜
❛ i’m very vulnerable right now if anyone wants to take advantage of me. ❜
❛ sorry i overshared do you still think im hot? ❜
❛ I can yap for days and still maintain my air of mystery. ❜
❛ good luck sending me mixed signals; I don’t even understand normal ones. ❜
❛ not all of your life decisions have to be smart. some can be purely for cinematic value. ❜
#askbox meme#askbox prompt#rp ask meme#ask box#roleplay sentence meme#sentence starters#roleplay prompts#roleplay sentence starters#* sentence meme#rpc help
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i’ve had the bandori game for all of five minutes and homotron3000 here will not stop doing her dramatic ass gay poses while dropping the most extra loser lesbian lines in every scene she’s in i’m crying why is kaoru like this
#bang dream girls band party#bang dream#bandori#kaoru seta#rimi ushigome#kokoro tsurumaki#kanon matsubara
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KISSING LESSONS.
featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader
synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)
notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.
word count: 3.13k
chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)
now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus
Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.
It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.
It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.
PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.
It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.
Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.
You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.
You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.
Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.
You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.
As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.
“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.
Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.
You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.
“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.
Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.
“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.
Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.
“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.
“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.
“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.
Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.
Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.
You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?
Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.
A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.
She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”
Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.
“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.
“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.
“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.
“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.
Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.
The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.
So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.
It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.
To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.
It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.
“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”
Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.
Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.
It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.
“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.
“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.
It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”
Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.
“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”
“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?
“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.
“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.
You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.
Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.
“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.
“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.
A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.
“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”
“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.
The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.
So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.
This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.
“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.
It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.
“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.
“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.
You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.
Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”
You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”
“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.
You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.
2023 ©️ellieslaces please do not repost, rewrite, translate, or submit my work to AI or any other platform. please support your creators by reblogging, liking, and following!
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#Hazel Callahan#hazel callahan x you#hazel callahan x reader#hazel callahan drabble#hazel bottoms#hazel#Hazel Callahan bottoms#hazel callahan bottoms 2023#bottoms 2023#lesbians#wlw post#cishet men dni
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there's sadly not a lot of content of them together but troy and annie's friendship is so important to me. I feel like we don't talk about them enough outside of general trobedison. they're two people who liked the idea of each other at some point for kind of superficial reasons but grew to appreciate each other as their own people and not just this goal of someone to "pull" the more they got to know each other. honestly glad that the writers dropped the ship cus it's so much better than it would've been if it was romantic. instead we got this cool thing where they both kind of helped each other grow into themselves and cope with changes.
the talk they had at the end of mixology certification reflecting on everything that happened after annie's sudden crisis about what she wanted to do with her life was so sweet.
ANNIE: ... I did it because I didn't wanna be me. I did it because i'm not sure who I am. Admit it- we went to school together for four years, and you didn't even know me.
TROY: Yeah, but I know you now, You're Annie...You like puzzles and little monsters on your pencil and some guy named Mark Ruffalo. You're a fierce competitor and a sore loser and you expect everybody to be better than who they are and you expect yourself to be better than everyone. Which is cool.
This was the episode where Troy realized that becoming an adult isn't this big, dramatic change and the people he looked up to were just as confused and imperfect as he was. He decides on his own that the grown up thing to do is to get everyone home safely rather than drinking. Here he's the one reassuring Annie, telling her how she does still have time to explore the world on her own terms, not knowing her well back then was his own loss.
I really like that about their dynamic how Troy kind of helps Annie realize she can just...relax and be herself without being judged, seeing her high school crush that she always wanted to impress casually building pillow forts and speaking in only movie references with his best friend. We don't see any immediate drastic changes in her that it seems unnatural but she's definitely more comfortable weird in her own way after moving into 303 (For ex her making Abed film missing lover clips for her)
I love how much they both care about abed too...in different ways. troy matches his weirdness, giving him an escape from what the rest of world thinks while annie shows him he CAN leave the world of simulations and scenarios, being different from someone but still having them respect you as a friend and build a close relationship with them letting him connect with the world. But they actually care about him letting him show a vulnerable side that he doesn't with a lot of the other members of the study group.
I also think the gay himbo+ smart but insane lesbian dynamic is v funny yea
anyways here are some silly photos that'll hopefully help get my point across
#does troy count as a himbo? idk#bruh this has been sitting in my drafts for so long im just posting and hoping it is coherent🙏#this post was NOT originally meant to be this long but I kept getting more and more ideas to add lmao#community tv#I am thinking about this show 24/7 if you couldn't tell#community analysis#nbc community#troy barnes#annie edison#troy and annie#trobedison#?#kind of
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The Fucking Fight Club (2)
Summary: Hazel tries to control her powers during the first fight club. But because she's a loser, she fucks up. A lot.
Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader
Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), mild violence, mentions of bruises and blood
Word Count: 3866
Note: Okay I know I gave y'all the first chapter yesterday but you guys surprised me with so much likes, I quickly whipped up the next chapter. The ending is kind of bad but lmfao idc. It's extra long cause I probably can't write until next weekend due to fucking midterms. I wish I could drop out and write fanfics all day long. But life is unfair to the gays. - Bia <3
“Okay, before we actually do this, I want Hazel to practice controlling her punches.”
Josie had dragged PJ and Hazel to a hiking trail in the nearest forest. This wouldn’t have been mandatory if Hazel didn’t have the super-strength to murder a human with a single blow, but since she did, Josie wasn’t about to let the feminist self-defense fight club happen without a bit of rehearsal.
“Fine, mom.” PJ rolled her eyes. She was used to Josie’s dramatic cautiousness, but this seemed like a waste of time. She turned to Hazel and offered her face. “Hazel, just relax, and punch me.”
Hazel did a double take. “Punch… punch you?”
“Okay, I don’t like that tone. I know how to take a punch. Something people would always say is ‘PJ knows how to take a punch.’ Come on up.”
“PJ, she literally beat up a grown man with metal octopus arms last week. And the week before that, a man made of indestructible sand. You remember that? On the news? You might know how to take a punch, but you don’t know how to take her punch.”
“That’s why we’re practicing!”
“I meant like practice on a tree or something.” Josie waved towards the nearest tree, standing about 25 feet tall. “Hit a tree, Hazel.”
Hazel shrugged, before pulling back and punching into the middle of the tree. In a split second, the tree quaked under the assault, its massive frame crackling under the exact spot of Hazel’s fist. The bark gave away first, exploding outward in a radial pattern. When she retracted her hand, there was a massive dent on the thick body of the tree, jagged fault lines extending from the center of the impact.
PJ’s eyes widened. “Holy fuck. That could have been my face.”
Josie shook her head. “Okay, so, obviously, you have to calm down. By a lot. Try the same thing, but like, weaken it?”
Hazel nodded. She then gently tapped the tree with her fist.
Josie shook her head again. “That was clearly too weak.”
Hazel sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this, guys. I’m so used to punching psychopathic criminals who want to kill me, so I’m always using at least 90% of my strength.”
“Which is why I brought this.” Josie pulled out a piece of paper from her bag. It turned out to be your face printed on an A4 sheet with a speech bubble that read, ‘punch me!’ “Now, hear me out—”
“-Actually, this is brilliant,” PJ said, taking the paper from Josie’s hands. She taped it to the tree and presented it to Hazel. “Imagine the tree is (Y/N). She’s standing in front of you. She’s sexy, she's wearing a bikini, she’s ready to learn, and she’s asking you to punch her. What do you do?”
Hazel stared at the tree with your face on it. In spite of this entire scenario being outrageously stupid, Hazel’s eyes fixated on the piece of paper, trying to immerse herself in your 2D face. It seemed to be a copy from last year’s yearbook, one that she had spent many hours staring at. She felt weirdly guilty as she wrinkled her eyebrows.
“I don’t really want to punch her.”
“Well, you have to! This is for feminism!” PJ groaned when she saw the hesitancy in Hazel’s face. “Hazel, women like strong, protective people. Why do you think there’s a hulk shrine in the girl’s second floor bathroom? You punch (Y/N) straight in the face, and she’ll immediately fall in love with you.”
“Well–”
“-She will, Josie.”
Hazel nodded. It was worth a try. If she wanted to wrestle with you in this club, she had to try. With a measured breath, Hazel extended her arm, fingers curling into a tight fist. She delivered a punch, focusing on her strength rather than causing harm. The moment of impact was firm but gentle, almost considerate towards the tree’s bark. It was as if the tree had barely registered the encounter, although its leaves were left shaking. She turned to her friends.
“Perfect,” PJ whispered, her eyes glistening in awe. “Let’s go beat some bitches up.”
“Not how I’d word it,” Josie muttered.
That afternoon, you were taking a hike in the same forest with Isabel and Brittany. It was quite calming, walking and talking with your friends in the middle of a beautiful forest. Birds were chirping, winds were breezing– And you guys were completely alone, since nobody really came here, and if they did, it was usually after sunset to do drugs and film porn.
The three of you reached the midpoint of the trail to take a small break, when Brittany pointed at a nearby tree.
“Hey, isn’t that…”
You followed her finger to a tall tree that seemed to be beaten up by someone, with its bark splintered and smashed by a form of impact. And in the middle of its trunk, was a photo of you, with a speech bubble that read ‘punch me!’.
Your heart dropped.
“Oh my god, (Y/N), somebody wants to kill you,” Isabel gasped. She walked up to the tree and ripped the paper off. “Isn’t this from our yearbook?”
You reached out to take the paper from Isabel’s hand and inspected it closely. It was indeed a page from the previous year’s yearbook, with your smiling face captured in a freeze-frame moment of your junior days. The speech bubble, however, had been added later, which meant that someone had deliberately printed your face, edited it, and pinned it to a tree to violently punch it out.
You felt a chill down your body. Who could have done this? You knew it was hard to be friends with everyone from school– but who would despise you enough to do this vicious and also slightly weird property damage to nature?
“We should report it or something, like to a park ranger,” Brittany offered, sensing your panic.
“No, They’re just going to tell us not to come back here wearing shorts,” You sighed. There were no cameras on the trail or anything, and the park rangers were men who were probably going to comment on your appearance instead of the actual problem at hand. “I have to do something about this by myself.”
You needed protection. No, you needed to learn how to protect yourself. You needed teachers who could help you protect yourself from evil highschool men.
You needed Hazel Callahan.
You turned to your friends with a determined face, masking your fear before saying;
“Do you guys want to join a self-defense club with me?”
Isabel and Brittany paused, exchanged glances, then nodded.
“What the fuck. These girls are ugly.”
It was the first club meeting for the feminist self-defense fight club, and there were exactly 8 girls waiting in the gym. Absolutely no sign of you. Hazel laid on the gym mats, trying not to show her disappointment. She reached for her phone, staring at your number in her contacts. She never got to texting you because she was panicking over what to say one night, and was busy fighting off muggings and carjackings every other night.
“Are you stressed? Cause I’m stressed,” Josie muttered, as the advisor for the club hopped in, earning a sharp breath from Hazel.
“Hey, ladies! Let’s get it poppin’ in this motherfucker.”
Hazel blinked. Mr. G was the advisor for this club?
This was going to be absolutely horrendous.
“Alright, uhm… hello, everybody,” Josie tried, looking around the gym filled with girls jumping on trampolines, hula-hooping, scooting, and balance-balling. “Okay, excuse me, sorry, I feel- sorry–”
“-EVEVRYBODY SHUT THE FUCK UP.” PJ hit the floor with a broom, each collision echoing through the space with a ‘BANG’.
“This isn’t a little hangout, okay? Oh it’s not a sleepover or playtime. There are serious rules that we need to establish, okay?
“First? Listen to Hazel.”
Hazel lifted her hand in a subtle gesture.
“Second? Be on time. Except for you,” PJ pointed to Mr. G. “You come whenever you want. What time is it?”
“3:30–-”
“-3:30! Club starts at 3:15. Not 3:16, not 3:17. But the door closes at 3:15. No exceptions!”
Hazel smiled. Other than the fact that they were the ones who were actually late, PJ was doing amazing, putting authority towards the three girls and setting the ambiance. PJ could be a menace sometimes most of the time, but when she wanted to get shit done, she got shit done. Hazel was almost too distracted by PJ’s rant—
“-I don’t care, if you’re like, oh, but I had to go get extra help for math because I need to get a full ride because my mom lives in a trailer and she loves her boyfriend more than me, bleh blah blarh blargh– Shut up. My dad left me and I’m incredibly punctual–”
–That she didn’t even notice you walking into the gym with Isabel and Brittany following closely behind. When she did notice, her heart seemed to pick up speed, her lips curling into a smile even without realizing. Josie recognized the smile– one that Hazel only had when she was talking about her crush— and Josie turned around, motioning to PJ that the holy trinity had entered the gym.
Your eyes met with Hazel’s, and you waved in acknowledgement. She almost dropped her notebook as she looked around to check if you were waving to someone else, and then she fumblingly waved back. You giggled. Hazel had this face that effortlessly radiated innocent charm. You weren’t sure why, but you were drawn to her slightly nerdy demeanor. (it’s called being gay)
“Hey, guys. Come on in,” PJ rasped. “Uh… we’re just getting started here.”
You walked to Hazel and stood beside her. “Sorry we’re late,” you apologized.
The three girls shook their heads. “Don’t worry about it—”
“-Uhm, the rules were for next week, but this week is good–”
“-Yeah, no worries, take it easy.”
Annie seemed confused. “Okay, I just want to make sure– This is a self-defense class, right? Where we can learn to protect ourselves against football players.”
“And the criminals that Spider-Woman has been fighting? Cause, uhm, crime rate has been going up so criminals are gonna pork us. They’re gonna pork us.”
“I thought we were fighting each other for money. There’s a cash prize, right?”
“I thought this was to be a part of like a local, underprivileged female community.”
“My identity is completely attached to hers so I just go wherever she goes.”
“I thought I could learn how to protect myself. Cause I’m pretty sure someone’s trying to kill me,” You added.
“What?” Hazel turned, her eyes filled with worry.
“Everyone’s here for a good reason!” Josie laughed. “So, you know, why are we nitpicking reasons?”
“Yeah! So, let’s jump in. Hazel, why don’t you take it away?”
“Uh.”
PJ and Josie stepped back and began clapping. Everyone else followed along into a scattered and confused applause. Hazel walked to the front, opening up her notebook to the page reading ‘Self-Defense Club.’
“Okay. Hi. I’m Hazel. And I’m going to teach you guys how to fight. Maybe throw some punches. Some kicks.”
There was a bit of silence, maybe a single cough. PJ spoke up.
“(Y/N), since you’re closest to Hazel, why don’t you volunteer and step up?”
You shrugged. “Sure.”
You weren’t completely sure what was going on or how exactly Hazel was going to teach self-defense, but you dropped your backpack to the floor and walked towards Hazel, who looked incredibly afraid of what was going to happen next. She looked over your shoulders to PJ and Josie.
PJ mouthed the words, ‘Punch her. She’s the tree. Punch her.’
Hazel sent signals through her eyes meaning, ‘I can’t– I’m not gonna punch her.’
PJ continued to mouth the words, ‘Punch her. Hulk shrine. Imagine her wearing a bikini.’
Hazel’s face contorted with disbelief, her eyebrows raised in surprise, and her mouth slightly agape. Was she actually going to punch the girl that she’d been crushing on for years? Was this really the way to do it? She tried to ignore PJ who was now mouthing ‘punch your virginity away’ and instead curled her hands into fists, imagining the tree, the print-out of your face saying ‘punch me!’, you wearing a bikini, your smile, your wave, your eyes, your body—
-While you stood beside her, wondering why Hazel looked like she was about to shit herself. You began to open your mouth to ask if she was okay.
“Hazel—”
—And she flung her fist to your face.
You didn’t even register what had happened until a sharp burst of pain radiated from your nose, and you found yourself laying on the floor of the gym. You heard gasps and shouts and something about Mr. G trying to shut the club down (“Hey hey hey hey hey– I don’t know about this shit-”) as you slowly sat up, tasting liquid metal. The pain began to spread to the rest of your face as your eyes blurred up, leaving you momentarily stunned and struggling to regain your composure.
“Fuck, (Y/N)- I’m so sorry-” a horrified voice rang in front of you, and you felt a warm hand against your cheek. The hand seemed to be shaking, and you wiped your hazy eyes to see Hazel kneeling beside you, her expression embedded with guilt. “Oh my god. Oh my god.”
“You didn’t even warn her!” Annie screamed.
PJ shrugged. “Okay, we didn’t get warnings in juvie. Juvie was way crazier. One time, this girl’s punching me in the rain. Fall to my knees. It’s muddy. I get up– I’m blind. Punch her right in the middle of her face. Broke her fucking nose.”
“Pretty sure Hazel broke (Y/N)’s nose too,” Annie grumbled.
Isabel hurriedly handed you a couple of paper towels as Mr. G pushed the crowd to assess the situation.
“Let me see her,” Mr. G ordered, gasping when he saw the amount of blood coming from your nose. “Oh, shit, man, we gotta shut this down.”
“No, No—”
“-Shut this shit down. Shut it down—”
“-No, Don’t blow the whistle– Don’t blow the whistle!” Josie yelled. Everyone went silent, turning their attention from you to Josie. “I know that, you know– this is a little messy and bloody right now— Hazel, can you take (Y/N) to the nurse’s office– but like, the only way that we can learn how to defend ourselves is by teaching each other.”
Josie continued on with her little speech as Isabel and Brittany offered to take you to the nurse. But Hazel denied their help, rambling something about how this was all her fault. She picked you up fairly easily to your surprise, bridal style, and carried you out of the gym. You clutched onto her and rested your aching face into her stomach, feeling embarrassed.
When you arrived at the office, the nurse had gone home already, leaving Hazel to place you on the examination bed and find the medical kit. She seemed really anxious as you touched your face, your hand coming back dripping in red.
“God, juvie really taught you how to punch, huh,” You joked, battling your agony with humor. Hazel didn’t laugh. Instead she grabbed a cloth and ran it under the sink water, indulging the silence. You tried again. “Hazel.”
It was ignored once again as Hazel kneeled in front of you and started cleaning your face, her thumb gently holding your chin. She was very obviously avoiding your gaze with the best of her ability.
“Hazel, look at me.”
Hazel finally looked up to your eyes. She looked like a child knowing that she was about to be reprimanded or put on time out— and you almost felt sorry for Hazel, even though you were the one bleeding out. She seemed to grimace as you opened your mouth, getting ready to be shouted at. But instead, you asked;
“Why didn’t you message me?”
Hazel paused.
“I gave you my number. You didn’t message me,” You said again, completely serious. “You don’t like me?”
“No, I like you!” Hazel exclaimed. Her cheeks turned into a shade of pink as she tried to reword the sentence. “I mean, I don’t don’t like you, I… I’m really sorry. I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to come to the club, and I’m sure you don’t want to anymore-”
“-No, I want to.” You interrupted. “I mean, my face hurts like a bitch, but… it was a solid punch. And I really do need to learn how to defend myself like that. I think someone’s trying to kill me, so I want to be ready.”
Hazel cocked her head. “Is someone attacking you? Do you need help?”
You shook your head. “Not exactly, but I did see my face taped onto a tree, and someone had hit it really, really hard. Like, incredibly hard. Maybe with a rock, or something? I don’t know. I think it might be a death threat.”
Color seemed to drain out of Hazel’s face.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you–” You explained, mistaking Hazel’s pale skin as fear. “Listen, I’m not angry at you. Well, okay, I am a little, I think you could have warned me about the punch, at least, but… I know that you’re still recovering from your past and you’re probably on edge all the time.”
Hazel nodded along, as it was partially true– she was on edge, but mainly because you were staring down at her with blood on your face and you still managed to look hot as fuck. She choked on her words before saying, “Still, I shouldn't have punched you like that. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m really sorry.”
You smiled. “This is the whole point of the club though, right? You punch me, I punch you… and we become stronger together– ow.”
You winced when the cloth touched a particular spot on your nose bridge, being reminded of your injury.
“Shit, sorry, here—” Hazel instantly dropped the cloth. She carefully cupped your face, examining your wound with sincere worry. She was used to seeing wounds on herself, but seeing them on a person that she liked— seeing them on you, made her particularly upset.
You were surprised to see Hazel being so serious. Every time you tried to talk to her, she was either nervous or punching you. To see her so focused on your face made you feel a bit self-conscious, leading you to comment on her skills to break the silence.
“You seem to have a lot of experiences patching someone up. Do you do this often?”
She chuckled, “You have no idea.”
You assumed she was talking about juvie, and you recalled seeing the bruises on her face the last time you talked to her. Was Hazel still having problems with crime even after prison? You stared at her, your heart throbbing with sympathy for Hazel. What struggles had she faced in her past for her to learn to punch so strongly, to patch up bruises, and to always be nervous around others?
Hazel pulled away from you, finishing up the basic patch-up. She started putting the medical kit away as you caught sight at the mirror across from you.
“Great. I look awful.” You sighed, lingering on your reflection.
“No, you don’t.”
Hazel tore her eyes away from the kit and responded, as if you had said something completely out of reality. You laughed and shook your head, looking at the floor.
“No, my face is a complete mess–”
“-You look pretty.”
You tore your eyes off from the floor to Hazel. She was staring at you with a soft look in her eyes, one that you felt yourself getting lost in. She had such… honesty within them, as if she fully believed your beauty underneath the red and blue color.
“You always do.”
And for a moment you wondered how you had never truly seen Hazel before— when the soft glow from the sun streamed through the window, casting a warm light over the two of you. Hazel’s brown hair, cascading into a messy mullet, framed her face which seemed to be burning up each second that passed.
“...you too,” You muttered, a shy smile replacing your dumbstruck expression. “I hope you know that.”
Then it was her turn to gawk, at you and your hands timidly placed on your legs which dangled from the examination bed. She was reminded of her crush that had been sitting in her heart for years. She had just spent 5 minutes in a room alone with you— and for a second, she was almost glad that she punched you.
And all of a sudden, Hazel seemed to recognize the lack of space between the two of you. Had you been this close to her this entire time? Your face was just inches apart from hers, and time seemed to stretch as you two gazed at each other, hearts thumping in unison. It was as if the wall Hazel had managed to build around her feelings towards you crumbled within this moment. Hazel’s lips parted, just a fraction, as if inviting the inevitable to say—
“-The club isn’t being shut down!”
The office door swung open with a bang.
Hazel immediately leaped back from you, as you whipped your face towards PJ and Josie who stopped in their celebratory tracks, analyzing the odd tension from the room.
“Oh, sorry, we thought–” Josie gaped, rubbing the back of her head in awkwardness. “How are you doing, (Y/N)?”
“I’m doing okay, actually. I should go. But I’ll see you later, bye.” You hopped down from the bed and started walking out of the room, talking a bit too fast for anyone’s comfort. You almost fell over while you ran down the hallway, unable to accept what had just unfolded. What was that? You almost— you almost kissed a girl. You almost kissed Hazel Callahan.
In the meantime, Hazel was also mortified at the fact PJ and Josie had interfered right then and there. She hid her face with her hands which her friends mistook for anger.
Josie tried to calm her down, “Okay, I know that today was kind of a disaster and you made (Y/N) bleed, but after you left we managed to grow the spirit. Everyone’s into beating each other up now. It’s kind of working.”
“And, I honestly don’t know what just went on right now but… (Y/N) just said she’ll ‘see you later’. Which means it kind of worked for you too,” PJ added. “And it doesn’t seem like you broke her nose, which meant that you can actually control your power!”
“Are you still up for this, Hazel?”
Hazel peeked out from hands, her face still red, her heart still sprinting, her mind still thinking about your lips— and how you said you would see her later. A smile tugged at her lips as she nodded and said,
“Let’s fucking do this.”
Previous Chapter: The Origin
Next Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4
#bottoms movie#hazel callahan#hazel callahan fluff#hazel callahan x reader#josie bottoms#pj bottoms#hazel callahan spiderwoman#hazel callahan x you#bottoms (2023)
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ivy // hajime iwaizumi ♫⋆。♪ ₊˚♬ ゚.
masterlist
part 4: when you sleep
by: my bloody valentine
‘Me taking a body shot off of you is NOT. EVEN. GAY.’
Yn giggles as she passes through the kitchen, overhearing Bokuto’s pleads to let him try a body shot off of Kuroo. He shoves his phone into Kuroos face, trying to convince him they could go viral. The word viral peaks his interest, but he quickly brings himself back down to earth and shakes his head in refusal. Next to them is Lev and Kageyama, trying to mix pre-workout and vodka. Kageyama takes a sip,
‘it’s lowkey not even bad man’
Lev scrambles to try it, he quickly regrets it, hiding the disgusting taste on his tongue, shuddering and forcing it down.
‘yeah..aghh.. totally!!!’
Yn scrunches her nose at the foul looking creation and stumbles over to the living room, where Oikawa is drunkenly trying to teach Akaashi guitar.
‘This is a C’ Oikawa explains as he strums, but he isn’t really strumming. He is slowly dragging his thumb down the strings, each one ringing and stopping before the next one starts.
Akaashi sighs in frustration. ‘You just said that was an A Oikawa’. He looks up from the guitar with an offended expression,
‘ Don’t LIE on my name’ He spits with venom in his voice, before turning his attention back to the guitar and smiling as he plays random chords.
She heads over to Iwaizumi, who is watching volleyball on the couch. She laughs to herself at his lonely state.
‘You are SUCH a loser’ she grins as she takes a seat next to him. Her thigh slightly touching his makes Iwaizumi’s stomach twist. ‘Sitting alone at a PARTY’ she eggs on as she grabs the abandoned solo cup on the table infront of her and takes a sip.
‘This is not a party at all’ Iwaizumi rolls his eyes and scoffs in a playful way. He gazes at her, studying the way she bites her lip after she sips her drink, the way she always does. Not that he notices her habits or anything.
‘Drinks and people is a party’ she returns, mocking his scoff dramatically. He respond with ‘tch’ noise, looking back at the TV. The sounds of guitar and volleyball commentators fill the silence. It’s comfortable. Yn twirls her wrist around and swishes the mystery drink around in the cup. She focuses on the way it rises to the rim of the plastic, about to pour over and spill, before she freezes her wrist and it crashes with an impact back down to the bottom of the cup.
‘Haji’ she whispers, her wasted grin dissapearing as she turns to look him in the eyes. The seriousness of her expression makes Iwaizumi nervous. His eyes widen a little in concern as she stares at him dead on. He tries to say something, but it’s like he’s in a trance.
She narrows her eyes as she looks deeply into his. They’re green. Not like spring grass, that feels smooth and lush. That you can lay in and gaze up at a clear sky. More like dark pine needles, that are soft to the touch but can pierce you if you aren’t careful. That collapse and fall to the ground when slightly shook.
After a few seconds of dead serious silence, her lips break into a curve and she turns her head away as she starts laughing. Iwaizumi rolls his head back and falls against the back of the couch, relieved he dodged confrontation.
‘You are not fucking funny’ He covers his face with his hands and groans. There’s a slight smile hidden behind his palms, that he makes sure is hidden from her sight.
‘I’m sorry, did I make you nervous?’ She giggles, acting a fool. He takes his hands off his face and stares up at the cieling.
‘Vodka doesn’t make you drunk, it makes you cruel’ He quiped.
She shook her head at the remark. She placed down the drink and moved back to lay her head on his shoulder. She could feel his body stiffen for a moment, before his shoulders dropped back to a relaxed position.
‘Sorry’ she smiled. She brought her knees to her chest and crossed her arms, leaning into him more.
‘I won’t hold it against you’ He spoke in a soft tone back to her. He held his breath, trying not to move a muscle as she grabbed his hand to fiddle with his fingers and trace figures in his palm.
‘AWWW that’s so cute, you guys should really-‘ Oikawa started to coo until Akaashi smacked the back of his head.
‘ Do you ever shut up?’ he shakes his head. Oikawa looks at him shamefully and rubs the back of his neck while muttering,
‘Bitch…’
Iwaizumi gives Akaashi an appreciative nod. He returns the gesture and goes go back to strumming the guitar. It starts to fade out into nothing as he looks back to yn, whose eyes are starting to close. His fingers are now loosely held between her hands.
As she drifts off to sleep, all yn can see is a vinyl spinning around and around, softly playing music.
All Iwaizumi can see is her.
more!
kuroo did infact let bokuto do it
it ended up on the barstool
iwaizumi woke up before yn and did everything in his power to not wake her up
he knows her coffee order by heart OF COURSE
he knows oikawas too but he will never admit that
akaashi actually picked up guitar quick #multitalented
kageyama had a crisis in the morning bc he remembered he is a professional athlete and can not be mixing pre workout and vodka casually
akaashi ships it
taglist: @eggyrocks @v1oletfury @stagemanagerchronicles @iluvmang @nitasplace
a/n: i have so much respect for just only written fanfic writers ITS SO HARD i cannot write at all. that took me so long. A GROWINGGG TAG LIST REPLY OR MESSAGE TO BE ADDED! i woke up this morning with 90 notes and i actually screamed TY FOR ALL THE LOVE!!
#haikyuu#iwaizumi x reader#haikyuu smau#haikyuu x reader#hq fanfic#hq smau#haikyuu iwaizumi#hq x reader#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi x y/n#ivy
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Temptations part 2 - stepsister! ellie x fem reader
part 1 - part 2 - part 3
*pictures used are not meant to represent reader
wk- 2.5k
additional tags: reader is Joel’s bio daughter (no race is described), sarah doesn’t exists in this bc I said so, ellie is adopted, rocker! ellie, band! ellie, loser! ellie, perv! ellie, weed! mention, ellie is kinda awful in this, like typical f*ck boy beat, reader and ellie are polar opposites so they kinda don’t get along, reader is a overachiever, ellie is a deadbeat, nothing too crazy happens in this part (yet), clothes are described (both what reader and e! are wearing)LOTS of s*xual tension, mutual pinning and gay longing etc…
*sorry for the pov change I wanted this to read like a typical x reader
It was the next day, and Ellie had no idea that you heard everything... down to the breathy moans and whimpers that exited her mouth while she fucked herself raw.
It was almost 2 in the afternoon, and Ellie hadn't come downstairs yet, and you weren't complaining because how the fuck are you supposed to face her after that?
You sat on the couch, scrolling through Tiktok but not really watching them, your mind too busy thinking about how your name sounded coming from Ellie's lips.
At first, you didn't want to believe it- you wanted to be appalled, but you weren't- in fact, you felt quite the opposite. It was alluring, inviting almost.
-
While listening to her curses of your name, your hand slipped down to your panties, teasing your clothed cunt as your forehead rested on the wall that separated the two of you, but you stopped yourself, snapping out of it like it was an evil curse.
"This is wrongThis is wrongThis is wrong" You repeated to yourself over and over as you crawled under the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending it was a weird dream.
-
"You're not watching that show without me, are you?"
Ellie said as she reached the bottom of the stairs, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass from the cupboard.
"Hu-? No, of course not." Your head flicks from your phone as you jump, too busy in your thoughts to notice the squeak of the stairs as Ellie came down them.
"Am I interrupting something?"
Ellie sits next to you, bringing the glass to her lips as she chugs the water until it was almost empty.
"What? No-?" You scoff, getting defensive because you know your lying.
Ellie sat the glass down on the coffee table, leaning her back into the cushion, throwing her hands up that suggests she comes in peace and doesn't want a fight.
"Where are you going? You got plans today or-?" Ellie asks, motioning her hand at my outfit.
Truthfully, you didn't have plans, but you woke up early, and nerves on high alert didn't allow you to sleep much last night. You were anxious and couldn't sit still hence why you did your makeup and put on real clothes this morning.
"Oh, no. Jus' felt like getting ready." You shrug.
Ellie's eyes go wide with a dramatic expression of shock on her face.
"Done up all pretty with nowhere to go?"
She asked rhetorically, teasing you, but she meant every word.
Pretty. She called you pretty... but she only met it in a friendly way, nothing weird, right? That didn't stop the way your clit began to throb in your panties- or how your thighs instinctively squeeze together.
"It's criminal, right?" You laugh, dipping your head down to avoid eye contact.
You wondered how Ellie could face you after last night and how confidently she spoke to you- is she not ashamed of it? Or maybe you heard it wrong, and it wasn't your name she cried out in pleasure.
"If you want- my band is playing at Owls tonight if you wanna come."
"Owls the bar? Didn't someone get killed there last summer?"
A chuckle reverberated in her throat as she nods.
"Yeah- that's the one."
She leans back, manspreading as she interlocks her fingers, twisting her knuckles between them.
She was still wearing her black wifebeater and sweats, and you can't help notice she's not wearing a bra. The vague shape of her breasts through the thin fabric made your head spin.
You quickly look away, not wanting to get caught.
"Look- I know it's not really your scene or whatever, but you should come..,might help you loosen up a bit." Ellie said, the corner of her lips tugging into a grin.
You tilt your head at her, squinting your eyes before widening them.
"What? Do you think I need loosening up?"
You ask offendedly, but not in a serious way.
Ellie's tongue glides over her top of row of teeth, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of crimson.
"I dunno, do you?"
Ellie tilts her head to the side as she spoke, a cockiness to her tone that contrasted her freckled flushed cheeks.
You held your breath as your stomach erupted into butterflies. Even with her hair all messy, bags under her eyes and chapped lips- she was dangerously attractive.
Ellie thought the same thing about you. You were dangerous. "Eye candy" is how she would often describe you to her friends, conveniently leaving out the part where she was talking about her innocent little step sister.
Ellie's eyes fixated on your lips, trailing down to the top of your breasts that spilled over your low-cut lacy tank, eyes continuing to your short skirt that bunched higher from your crossed-legged position, leaving the tops of your thighs visible.
Ellie had to tear her eyes away, a shaky breath- more like a growl- passing her lips as she did so.
"You don't have to come if you don't-"
"I'll go." You cut her off, a sense of excitement taking over your tone as you lean closer.
Ellie's eyes go wide with shock, not expecting you to be so eager.
"Are you sure?"
"I mean.. I'm kinda curious. I've never seen you play for real before." You shrug, sounding enthusiastic about the idea.
Ellie clears her throat, biting the tissue on her inner cheek to stop herself from erupting into a toothy smile.
"Okay- cool..cool... uh- it's in downtown so we have to leave around 10."
-
"Els! What should I wear? I didn't bring anything for this kind of occasion." You yell from your room, sounding frantic as you rummaged through your options.
It was 20 till you knew the rest of Ellie's band would be showing up. You thought you gave yourself plenty of time to get ready, but time slipped you both, too preoccupied with Ellie insisting on teaching you how to play video games.
It was a pitiful attempt really. Your aim sucked, and you could never remember the controls- but Ellie enjoyed watching you struggle anyways, cracking jokes like "pretty sure Helen Keller would be better at this than you, doll." and "good thing you're pretty."
You ignored the nicknames in that moment, but now you felt a pressure to look your best for tonight.
Ellie opened the door to your bedroom, lifting her head to look at you, but she froze.
You were only wearing a bra and a skirt you couldn't decide if you wanted to wear it or switch it out for something else.
Ellie swallowed hard, knowing she should look away, but she couldn't. A soft pink, lacy bra that was definitely see through, framing your soft skin with its ruffled pattern.
"Uh- that seems pretty good." Ellie teased, pointing a finger at your half-dressed body.
You roll your eyes, a frustrated huff leaving your mouth as you turn back towards the closet.
"M' serious, El. I dunno what to wear. Can you help?"
Ellie clicked her tongue behind her teeth, pretending to think when really she was just buying time- enjoying herself as you stood half naked, whining and pouting for her help.
"Here-"
Ellie finally musters the common sense to peel her eyes away, looking to your bed that had miscellaneous pieces of your wardrobe scattered on top.
"Wear this."
She holds up a simple, y2k style slip dress, candy apple green that had little pink bows at the base of the thin straps.
Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, taking the dress from her before holding it to your front, looking down at it before looking back up to her.
Ellie observes, her eyes taking their time as they scan your body. Her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
"I dunno, Els... you don't think it's too short?" You ask innocently, turning to get a better look in your floor length mirror.
Definitely. That's why she picked it.
"No. Plus we don't have time, everyone is on their way over." Ellie said, adding a tinge of annoyance in her voice to make it more believable.
-
"Y/n! We have to go." Ellie yells from the bottom of the stairs, checking the time on her phone.
"Coming!" You ring back, stumbling down the stairs in a pair of kitten heels, throwing a small purse over your shoulder.
You used your few spare minutes to top off your makeup, adding small silver hoop earrings and a dainty heart pendant necklace to finish off the look.
"Sorry! I'm ready." You say out of breath as you meet her at the bottom of the stairs, smiling wide at her.
Standing there in front of Ellie- she immediately forgets- no... she doesn't care about the time or if she's late or not because holy shit, you look like something out of a xxx magazine in Ellie's mind.
The dress stops just below your ass, but if you bend down, that would be a different story. The fabric cinched below your breasts, making them full and spill over the top. Your hair is perfectly messy, stray baby hairs framing your face.
"Is something wrong?"
Your question snaps Ellie out of the trance that you put her in, her head lifting to your face.
"No- nothings wrong- you just look..."
She hums, looking over your body one last time.
Your head tilts in confusion, worried what she might say next.
"You clean up nice, is all." Ellie said more quietly, like saying it too loud would be like admitting all her sinful desires.
You smile are her warmly, eyeing her over and poking a finger in her chest.
"I can say the same for you."
She chucked, looking down so that you wouldn't see how bright her cheeks burned from your compliment.
Ellie wore a loose muscle tee- black and hand torn by Ellie herself, the logo of a band you didn't recognize in faded letters across the front, cropped just enough to where her lower stomach poked through along with the waistband of her branded boxers.
"Are they here?"
You ask, pointing a finger over your shoulder to the front door.
"Oh- uh.. not yet- got pulled over for speeding or something, but they should be here soon."
Ellie scratches the back of her neck- a nervous tick of hers.
You hum in acknowledgment, walking past her to sit on the couch, crossing your ankles with your hands tucked between your thighs.
Your hands were clammy, and your stomach started to twist- your nerves were starting to get the better of you. It was all very out of your comfort zone- the crowd, the music, hell.. even hanging out and getting along with Ellie felt alien.
"You want a shot?" Ellie asked, noticing the way you were starting to get cold feet and wanted to do everything in her power to keep you in her grasp.
Your face lights up, visibly delighted at the suggestion.
"Oh my god- yes please." You exhaust dramatically.
You move to the kitchen, taking a seat on a barstool.
You watch Ellie open a cupboard, reaching for a couple of shot glasses. Your lips part as you watch her shirt rise up, leaving her toned stomach on display. Her slim waist contracting, making the muscles even more visible.
Your stomach tightens, biting your lip as she walks over to you, blissfully unaware of how you were staring her down like she was a meal, and you were starved.
"Titos or fireball?"
Ellie holds up the two bottles for you, looking up and based on her reaction (a scoff and a grin tugging the corner of her lips) your stupid stare did not go unnoticed.
"Keep it in your pants, would ya?" Ellie asked rhetorically, teasing you where she knows it would make you burn the hottest.
Your jaw drops- shocked and embarrassed, your face grows warm.
"Oh my god- YOU'RE unbelievable." You exasperated, yanking the clear liquor from her hands and started to pour it yourself into one of the glasses.
She watches as you toss your head back while simultaneously filling a glass for herself, the cocky grin on her face never faltering.
The vodka burned as it went down, leaving your throat tingly as you tried your best to not make a face.
"Wow- didn't know my baby sis was a pro."
Ellie teased before doing the same, tilting her head back and downing it in one go, not flinching like she'd done it hundreds of times.
"What do you mean by that?" You questioned the sarcasm in her words, furrowing your brows as you leaned in, your breasts plunging out further as they rested on the countertop.
"Nothin' angel. Jus' can't imagine you partying it up at that shiny college of yours."
Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek, wanting to prove her wrong- your grab the handle of liquor and pour another shot, swallowing it with more determination this time.
Ellie closes in, resting her elbows on the other side of the countertop dangerously close to you.
You felt warm, not just because of the alcohol, but because of how close proximity she was. All her features- scars and freckles, were crystal clear. Her lips were chapped and full, her eyes a darker shade of green than you remember them being.
You lean closer, leaving only a few inches between your lips and hers- enough to feel her breath mix with yours.
"You don't know me as much as you think you do."
It came out like a whisper, soft and dripping with need. Your back straightened as you widened your knees- allowing the surface of the seat to be pressed against your thinly clothed cunt, chasing friction that you desperately needed.
Ellie's eyes widened in surprise before they narrowed in, growing frustrated and hungry. It's like you were toying with her- punishing her, using her own fucked up fantasies to your advantage. You simply wanted to gave her a taste and see if she'd bite.
She bit her lip before wetting it with her tongue, leaning in to ghost over your lips.
"Guess I have a lot to learn."
You practically whimper into her, restraining yourself from closing in fully to feel her lips on yours, when a knock at the door interrupted.
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