Hiii teehee I have RISEN back from the temporary dead to ask this can you get Cindy Berman x fem reader she's from shady side to and at first didn't really care for her because reader seemed like a bimbo and to carefree but she's really just trying to make the best of things with abusive parents and this town yet she's still very optimistic and go lucky which I would imagine would be very much a breath of fresh air for Cindy oh but here comes out favorite thing INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA I mean she's with Tommy and she's not supposed to like girls but every touch from reader KILLS this poor girl
The reader and her have to share a cabin and I imagine the reader either is a bit oblivious or doesn't think much of it like for example changing in front of Cindy and whatnot I mean they are both girls aren't they? Also side note being stuck in a cabin and not about to masterbate sounds low key like hell
Anywho sorry for the long ask no one gives my baby girl any love 😔 it stops now! And how better than you to end it - 🌺
~ Cindy Berman x Fem!Reader: Crazy Rebel Stuff ~
Note: my first Cindy Berman fic! I love my Fear Street girl and she will finally be given the love and respect she deserves! Thank you 🌺anon for sending in this req! I love hearing from you and getting your amazing ideas 🫶I hope you’re doing well! Sorry this took so long to get out to you - I’ve had so many reqs to get done 😭but I hope you love this one!
Cindy should just turn around and walk away. Just turn around, get into bed, close her eyes and forget that this even happened. But she can’t make herself move. She’s frozen solid, eyes wide as headlights, their lights shining directly on you.
It’s a spacious cabin with enough beds to fit Cindy’s entire senior chemistry class. But for tonight, it’s just the two of you. The glow of the nightly bonfire shines through the windows where the rest of the campers accumulated with their cigarettes and hidden liquor. Cindy absolutely refused to join, even though Tommy kept prodding her to go. “Just loosen up” he’d tell her, but she was quick to cross her arms and stomp away. Cindy wasn’t that kind of girl. For some reason, nobody seemed to get that.
She wondered why you were in here, already getting ready for bed. When she stormed in earlier and saw you lounging on the rickety camp bed, she internally groaned.
Cindy’s internal relationship with you was… confusing to say the least. You were so different than she was. Freer, for one. You’d go wherever the wind took you, do whatever you felt like. She honestly thought there was something wrong with you at first, that you were some new brand of rebel that skipped class and smoked under the bleachers. She would roll her eyes every time you ran into math class late, breathless smile on your lips.
It was obvious to Cindy that you weren’t serious about anything. Your grades, your future, the way people saw you. Nothing. Everything was a joke to you, a little dance party that only you were invited to. Tommy once called Cindy out for being jealous, but Cindy immediately scoffed and asked, “jealous of what?” with a side eye that could set fire.
All throughout camp, you’d only reiterated what she thought. You never stayed with the group or did the pre-decided activities. When it was time for lunch, you’d be out on the lake with a stolen kayak and a couple friends, trying to tip each other over. When there was archery on the itinerary, you were snuck into the craft hall, smearing paint on your friend’s shirt with a laugh that transcended walls. And apparently, when it was time for team-bonding at the campfire, you were having downtime in the cabin?
It was quiet when she walked in, the faint muffled tunes of music playing in your headphones. She recognized the band - one of her dad’s favorites… before he left that is.
She almost gave her usual greeting as a habit, but quickly bit her tongue and walked straight to her bed. Her only plan was to head to sleep early so she’d be ready for a full day tomorrow, but suddenly with you in the room, she felt… self-conscious. She sat on the edge of her bed, rifling through her suitcase for something to do. Read a book? She pulled out *Pride and Prejudice*, worn from multiple rereadings over the years.
She scanned the same page over and over, never taking in any of the words. Her eyes constantly glanced out of her periphery, searching for your movements, hoping you’d slip under the covers and shut your eyes, but you continued to lounge out across the blankets, music playing in your ears, flipping through a magazine without a care in the world, as if you were in your own bedroom back home.
Cindy turned her head slightly, trying to catch the name of the magazine. It looked like something she would’ve read before she got so busy with school and extracurriculars.
As soon as she caught a glimpse of the front page, your eyes trailed up and met hers. In that tiny fraction of a second, the two of you really looked at each other. But even that small moment was too much for Cindy. She panicked, whipping her head back down to her book. She prayed you’d just forget it, let her nervous blush drain in its own time.
But you seemed to take this as an offering of conversation.
“You look uncomfortable sitting like that.”
Cindy bristled at your voice, sweet and gentle. She took a deep breath, staring down at her book.
“You haven’t turned the page in like five minutes,” you added.
“You shouldn’t watch people. It’s rude,” she warned.
The response was instant. “Oh, like you’ve been doing with me?”
She gawked, turning to face you. “No! What are you talking about?”
“I can see the way your eyes shift over to me,” you shrugged, playful smirk on your lips. “You’re not smooth.”
She scoffed, mouth agape. “Well, if you noticed that, you must’ve been watching me too,” she accused.
“I guess we’re both in the wrong then.”
She narrowed her eyes at you. She could’ve come up with something scathing to say in response. She could’ve. But that’s against her moral code. Cindy’s a good girl, and good girls don’t make enemies.
She turned back to her book, biting her lip in frustration.
“I was just trying to make conversation,” you prodded, noticing her tense shoulders and aggravated features. “Sorry.”
“Well, maybe I don’t wanna talk to you,” she snapped, a bitter tinge in her voice.
Your eyebrows rose. You didn’t know Cindy Berman was capable of being mean. It was new. It was exciting. You let out an awkward, “okayyyy” and went back to your magazine.
But guilt was already eating Cindy away inside. It wasn’t even thirty seconds before she shut her book and sighed.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.”
You shrugged. “You’re okay. I’ll just mind my own business.”
“No, I… I feel bad. That’s not like me.” She leaned forward on her bed, eyes scanning your magazine once more. “What are you reading?”
Your eyes darted up to meet her warm brown gaze. She seemed to be reaching out, interested even. Maybe it was her moral dilemma to make everyone like her at all times, but you’d play along, sure.
“Reading? Nothing. I am looking at this year’s fashion trends though.”
“Oh,” she responded, quiet and awkward. “You like fashion?”
“Kinda… I don’t know. I just found this under my friend’s bed. Didn’t have anything to do.”
“You didn’t want to go to the bonfire? I thought you were all about the crazy rebel stuff.”
You chuckled. “Crazy rebel stuff?” Cindy shrugged awkwardly, red tinting her cheeks.
“Well, sometimes I need a break from the crazy rebel stuff,” you finished. “I like the quiet, believe it or not.”
Cindy looked surprised, as if you’d just told her you got out of prison.
“I just… didn't expect that from you, I guess.”
“You don’t know me,” you finally said, not with any malice, just as a fact.
There’s that guilt again, eating away at Cindy’s stomach and crawling its way up her throat. She gritted her teeth, annoyance at herself growing. She knows better than to judge a book by its cover - that’s what her honors teacher says you should never do lest you be judged next.
“I guess I don’t,” she nodded.
There’s a beat of silence where the trees sway outside in the summer breeze and the chorus of drunken teenagers laughing around the bonfire bounces off the cabin walls.
“I don’t blame you for that, though. I mean, I know what people think about me. Or what they say about me,” you speak up. “I wouldn’t blame you for latching onto it.”
“But I know better. I mean, I know what people say about me too. I’m no fun, I’m uptight, I care too much about things nobody else cares about.”
“It’s just things people say. It doesn’t have to be the truth,” you respond.
Your voice is soothing, the way you say the words like a smooth hot chocolate to Cindy’s ears. She hates to admit that she’s wrong, but maybe this once, she was slightly incorrect in her assumptions about you.
“I don’t believe those things about you,” Cindy adds, reaching out with her eyes, urging you to reach back. “Now I don’t. What people say - that you’re reckless, and care only about yourself, or that you’re only gonna end up in prison or dead by 20.”
There’s a moment of silence. You could hear the creaking in the floorboards. “People say those things about me?” Your face dropped and so did Cindy’s heart.
“No, no, no! Oh my god,” Cindy panicked. “Oh my god! I didn’t mean-“
You busted out laughing, unable to hold it back anymore. Cindy’s face dropped just like yours did seconds before. “I’m just joking. I’m just joking. I’m sorry.”
“I’m just fucking around. I’m sorry. But all of those things are true so… but Jesus, that last one’s cruel.” You smiled, and Cindy couldn’t dare stay mad when somehow the stars migrated from the sky to your face.
“You’re… that was… that was mean!” Was all Cindy could blurt out.
But you were laughing, and then she was laughing, and suddenly it felt like those slumber parties Cindy used to have before she got “boring” as people would say.
“Alright, I’m getting into my pajamas. Laying in bed with jean shorts just isn’t as comfortable as Madonna makes them look.”
You jumped up from bed and without as much as a warning, to Cindy’s chagrin, started stripping out of your sweaty day clothes right in front of her!
Her mouth dropped. Suddenly her tongue was as dry as a desert. You peeled off your t-shirt, and while you were facing away from her, she still got quite a teasing look at your lace bra.
She was desperate to say something, to tell you to get a room, but she was mesmerized by the soft slopes of your skin under the cabin lanterns.
But then you started to unbutton your shorts and she squeaked out, “Wait!”
You stopped, turning your head just enough to catch her scandalized face out of the corner of your eye.
“What are you doing!” She screeched.
“Wha- right in front of me?!”
“We’re both girls. We have the same body parts. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” you shrugged.
“It is! How can you not think it is! It is!”
“Okay, Jesus, I got it,” you laughed. You gathered your clothes in your arms and moved to the cabin bathroom. “I guess I’m doing too much crazy rebel stuff for you, huh?”
You shut the bathroom door behind you, and Cindy fell forward on the bed like she’d been punched in the back. She exhaled hard, eyes wild as she tried to make sense of what just happened. Not even what just happened, but how she felt about it.
She’s with Tommy. She loves Tommy. But somehow just watching you strip your shirt off, and getting the tiniest peek at your bra was enough to make Cindy readjust herself on the bed, wetness gathering in her underwear. Tommy never did that to her.
Cindy licked her lips, suddenly chapped. She stared at the bathroom door, images flashing through her mind of what you’d look like changing. What did your underwear look like? Was it the same as the bra? What if you didn’t wear any- NO, Cindy, get it together! You don’t like girls. You like Tommy.
This was just the beginning of a friendship, maybe… nothing more. Nothing more.
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
