#cece; blurb
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TO BE SAFE. EDDIE MUNSON
synopsis: you ask to sleep over at eddie’s for the first time, and he undoubtedly is head over heels for you
word count: 1.2k
authors notes: somebody requested this before i started my blog over! if this finds u, im sending you a cookie and a kiss, as promised x
warnings: fem!reader, use of gendered pet names (princess, pretty girl), dialogue is…….cheesy cringe a little😔, clueless eddie, kissing !!!
“Goddamit.”
Eddie hisses beside you at the jumpscare on screen. It was the quietest sound, drowned underneath the blood-curdling screams in the film. It probably would’ve gone completely unnoticed. Unluckily for him, it didn’t. Luckily for you, your legs were draped over his lap, so the mechanical jolt of fright sent your own legs jumping into the air.
His head is thrown against the back of his couch as he slaps his free hand over his eyes. You giggle as you watch his skin flush scarlet underneath your stare.
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you coo, voice shaky in between your laughter.
The embarrassment doesn’t quite subside, but the sound of your infectious giggle and the feeling of you moving into his lap to pry away his fingers is enough to have his chest rumbling with mirrored joy. He gazes up at you as you hold his hands.
“You scared, Eds?”
You don’t mean for it to sound like you’re teasing, but he laughs anyway. With a grin, he shakes his head wildly and clasps his hands around your back.
“Nope, I’ve got a princess to protect me.”
He pushes you down into the couch so that he’s hovering above you, and you respond with a squeal. Your legs are locked around his waist as his hands dig into the plush of the cushion beside your head. He leans down with a proud smile to press a kiss to your mouth.
The kisses are sloppy. He litters your face and neck in open-mouthed love bites, none hard enough to leave any mark. When he reaches your lips, it’s more smiles and spit than any real kiss, but neither of you seem to mind. Not when the smell of his citrusy shampoo wraps around your figure to make you dizzy. Not when your hands roam along his biceps and up to the nape of his neck like you’re the only thing keeping him from floating away.
It’s a mess of hushed teasing and giggles and clashing teeth, and it’s perfect.
As he pushes himself up for a moment of air, he looks off to the side before releasing a displeased sigh. “Shit, it’s getting late,” he observes solemnly.
He sits back on his heels, just far away enough for you to hold yourself up. You follow his line of sight and find that the digital clock on the shelf reads 11:15. Your shoulders deflate and your heart sinks.
“It is kinda late, isn’t it?”
Once you turn back to him, his eyes are stuck on you. Gorgeous, dilated pupils run across the high points of your cheekbones and back down to your lips. His gaze commands a rush of heat to caress your skin until your insides are set ablaze and your mouth is painfully dry.
The utter lack of urgency may as well have been a weighted blanket.
One of his arms snakes around your waist to pull you into him further. He leans forward, tilting his head ever-so-slightly to catch your lips.
This one is less playful than the ones you shared just seconds before. His movements are languid, purposeful. Like all the air had been stolen from his lungs and you were oxygen.
Your elbows threaten to buckle underneath your weight. Though, you’d happily sink back into the couch cushions and let them swallow you whole, if it meant you got to kiss him all night. And he’d just as eagerly take up the opportunity to have you underneath him for as long as he could entertain.
But he’s pulling away. Your foreheads rest together as you wear matching expressions of bliss: eyes closed, and slick, kiss-bitten lips parted. His thumb sinks underneath the hem of your shirt to dance across your skin. Another weighted blanket.
“I’ll drive ya,” he whispers reluctantly.
You watch as Eddie stands to stretch, and the warmth follows. A pensive wrinkle makes home between his brows as he slowly moves to grab his jacket. This, along with the nagging feeling in your chest, was routine whenever you spent the day at his place.
It’s not that he hasn’t offered for you to spend the night before, because he’s suggested it quite a few times. It was just so scary. The nerves bubble and spill over and it’s just all a mess inside your head whenever you want to ask.
Today is something different, though. All that occupies your mind is Eddie, Eddie, Eddie and suddenly, you think it’d be impossible to spend the night without him.
“Really? You’re not tired?” The questions run off your tongue without a second thought.
“Well, I’m wide awake now,” he jests, running the metal of his rings over his bottom lip. He pats the pockets of his jacket for his keys, and when he comes up empty, he searches the kitchen counter.
The fear creeps back into your head as you watch him rifle through drawers. It makes you shrink in on yourself as you trudge over to your shoes that lay haphazardly by the door.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to drive if you’re tired,” you ask softer.
Noticing a change in your demeanor, he looks up at you to see your teeth worrying at your lower lip. “I’m sure,” he insists sweetly, “Can’t let my pretty girl drive alone in the dark.”
He finally finds his keys and moves over to where his own pair of shoes rested beside yours. He sends you an easy grin and it makes it all the harder to swallow down your anxieties.
“It’s foggy out,” you mention faintly. You don’t know what the weather is like outside. It was merely you grasping at straws to freeze him in his motion. You’re sure it’s blatantly obvious at this point, expecting a light tease from the wavy-haired boy.
But oblivious as he is, Eddie peeks out the blinds anyway to scan the trailer park. He hums. It’s a little gloomy, but hardly anything to worry about. Just as he’s about to reassure you again, he pauses when he spots your fingers fidgeting with a loose seam in your sleeve. You’re staring down at your shoes — which you’ve purposely done a poor job of putting on, as they’re only halfway on your feet — with your tongue bitten between your teeth.
“Maybe…” you pause to take a deep inhale. “It’s probably better if I stay? If that's okay with you, I mean.”
Then, does Eddie freeze. And he feels like an absolute fool.
He feels like an absolute fool for being the one to get up first. For not getting the totally conspicuous hints you’ve been trying to give him for the past minute and a half. For being so focused on trying to find his damn keys that he hoped he’d lost in the first place. And for standing in shocked silence for so long that you’ve begun to frown and properly shove your ankles inside your shoes.
“Yeah,” he replies abruptly, reaching out for your arm.
“Yeah?” The hopeful rise in your inflection makes him gently squeeze your elbow.
“Yeah, of course you can stay. I want you to.”
You nod. You duck your chin to your chest to hide the shy smile on your lips, but to no avail. Eddie can spot your bright grin from a mile away and makes him go weak in the knees with a blush that he’s sure is making its way to his cheeks.
“Just to be safe, ya know,” you add before toeing off your shoes and pushing them closer to the wall.
“Right. To be safe.”
#i lost track of the plot at first…….like always#it’s not a bcyhoods fic if there isn’t a whole bunch of other shit happening#ᝰ cece’s scribbles#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fic#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson imagine#stranger things#stranger things fluff#stranger things fic
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🍓 — how about “good girl” with eddie GIGGLES
this is really short I’m sorry
fem!reader 0.3k words
“Sweetheart,” Eddie says. “Finish your food.”
You push further into his side instead of doing what he says. You’re tired and he’s comfortable and yes, you’re hungry, but you don’t feel like picking up the fork and putting the food in your mouth. It’s too much work.
Eddie laughs at your disobedience. “Y/N,” he says, faux serious but it’s so convincing anyone else would think he’s actually scolding you.
Steve sure does, throwing you a somewhat alarmed look from across the table where he and Robin are sitting. You wave him off.
“I’m too tired,” you complain to Eddie. You take his wrist in your hands because it’s pretty, and he’s wearing his silver bracelets with the cool charms and he’s very distracting even when he’s not trying. You toy with his fingers and pretend he’s not sighing at you.
“Too tired to eat?” Robin gawps. “Even if I hadn’t slept for three days I’d have energy to eat.”
She proves it by continuing to happily dip handfuls of fries into her milkshake. Steve wrinkles his nose at her.
Eddie tries again. “Y/N, honey,” he says, exasperated now. “Eat your pancakes. Then we can go home and you can sleep.”
You pull your face from his shoulder to look at him. He’s staring down at you, stern but there’s a kindness behind his eyes that you don’t miss.
“Ugh, fine,” you groan, only because you want to go home and go to bed, not because he’s extremely convincing and too pretty to say no to. You push yourself off of his shoulder to scoop your fork up. You shovel a forkful of pancake into your mouth and don’t hate it as much as you should.
Eddie gets an arm around your waist and ducks his head to kiss your hairline. “Good girl,” he says quietly, so Robin and Steve can’t hear.
The warmth in your chest has nothing to do with the pancake you just ate.
#★ mal writes!#𖤐 2k celebration!#ღ eds#𖦹 cece!#eddie munson#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x reader fluff#✉️
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another jump then fall au thought. adam going on a long roadie (ie west coast teams) after being home with his injury. poor paloma is literally inconsolable bc her dad was just home and all of a sudden he's just gone for like a week and shes still to young to understand. and poor cece doesn't know what to do because no matter how much she tries the first couple days she wont stop crying :(
oh my god, YES!!! and cece just doesn't know what to do and is freaking out bc paloma has never given her a hard time until then
─ warnings mentions of overall exhaustion, babies crying (who would have guessed), and adam being a sweetie AND SOME CECE/ADAM FLUFF????!???!
─ wc 805
Cece's head pounded as Paloma's cries rang throughout the apartment, her body sore and exhausted. She couldn't even hear her own thoughts at this point, Paloma was inconsolable. Adam had stayed home for the last couple of weeks because of his injury and Paloma had gotten so used to it but now that he's gone again, Paloma was devastated.
Cece tried every trick in the book to soothe her. She rocked Paloma gently, sang lullabies and even tried to distract her with her favorite stuffed animal, but nothing seemed to work. Paloma's face was streaked with tears, her tiny fists clenched in frustration.
She felt like she had failed Paloma and Adam, she thought that she could soothe Paloma even in the worst cases but she was quickly proven wrong. She tried everything and yet Paloma's cries only seemed to worsen. Cece's heart ached with a sense of helplessness as she watched the baby she had grown to love suffer in distress.
With a heavy sigh, Cece gently scooped Paloma into her arms, cradling her close. She whispered soothing words, trying to calm both herself and the inconsolable baby. As she paced the apartment, Cece's mind raced with worry and doubt. She questioned her abilities as a nanny, feeling the weight of responsibility bearing down on her shoulders.
As the night wore on, Paloma's cries slowly subsided, replaced by the rhythm of her breathing as she drifted off to sleep. Cece watched over her with a sense of relief, despite the aching she felt in her head. Cece held Paloma on her chest as she fell asleep, not wanting to risk waking her up and starting the whole thing again.
──
"I'm sorry she's been giving you a hard time." Adam's voice rang through the speaker of her phone, echoing in the bathroom. The phone leaned on her water bottle as Cece put on her make-up as Adam talked to her through FaceTime.
Cece gave Adam a tired smile. "No worries, it's all part of the job. I just feel bad because she's probably just as tired as I am, if not more. It takes a lot of energy to cry for 5 hours straight." Cece jokes as Adam's laugh echoed throughout the bathroom.
Adam studied Cece through the phone, she looked exhausted but she still managed to emphasize and smile. That was exactly why he liked her so much.
"You're amazing, you know that?" Adam's voice was filled with genuine admiration as he praised her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Cece. You've been such a blessing to us."
Cece's heart swelled with warmth at Adam's words. Despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on her, knowing that she was appreciated made it all worth it.
"Thanks, Adam," she replied, her voice soft with gratitude. "I love being a part of your lives. Paloma means everything to me, and you do too."
He smiled back at through the FaceTime as she continued putting on her makeup. "Let me repay you, Cece."
"You already pay me, Adam, you don't need to-"
"I'm gonna Apple Pay you a couple dollars for a Redbull, okay? You need it." Adam's voice was teasing but she could tell he was trying to make the whole thing easier for her.
Cece couldn't help but chuckle at Adam's gesture. "You're too kind, Adam. But really, I'll survive. Just knowing that you appreciate what I do means more to me than anything."
Adam's smile softened, his eyes reflecting his sincerity. "I know you will, Cece. But I still want to do something to show my gratitude. And plus don't you have that Chem test tomorrow morning?"
Cece groaned at the mention of the test. "Fine, Adam you win."
With a playful grin, Adam nodded triumphantly. "That's my girl. Just promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay? You work so hard, I don't want you burning yourself out."
"Thank you, Adam. You're too sweet, you didn't have to." Cece felt a rush of warmth as she heard Adam's words, her heart doing a little flip.
"I know, I wanted to."
Adam's gaze held a tenderness that made Cece's heart flutter. "Well, I appreciate it more than you know," she replied softly, her voice filled with genuine gratitude.
Before Adam could reply, Paloma's soft cries were heard from the bedroom. Cece's smile faltered slightly as she heard Paloma's cries, her whole body aching. "Looks like duty calls," she said with a sigh, already moving to attend to Paloma.
Adam nodded understandingly, his eyes reflecting his unwavering support. "I'll let you go then. Take care of our little princess, Cece."
Our little princess, that sounded nice coming from Adam. Cece's heart did another flip, her affection for both Adam and Paloma swelling in her chest. "I will," she replied, her voice filled with determination.
main masterlist
jump then fall masterlist
#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl#hockey#nhl fanfiction#nhl oneshot#hockey fic#adam fantilli#adam fantilli x reader#cece x adam 🩵#adam fantilli fic#adam fantilli x you#adam fantilli imagine#adam fantilli smut#adam fantilli blurb#jump then fall au
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sweets 🍓 — ohemgee okay how about tasm!peter and reader first kiss, but r makes the first move because im such a sucker for it 🫡
join the party!
omg this post was just…it made my day. it was absolutely perfect. i thought a lot about how i wanted to write this and it sat in my drafts for a while (sorry for the wait) but i hope you like it and i hope i did it justice. sorry it’s a little short too and for the physics inaccuracies. take care and ily loads xx
“Peter Parker!” You stomped over to where he stood still, his eyes wide in panic as students weaved around you both like it was far from the norm (it wasn’t).
You raised yourself onto your tiptoes, grabbed the collar of his shirt and kissed your best friend straight on the mouth.
He did say he was in love with you after all, what did he expect you to do, you can’t just drop something like that into the middle of a conversation about the physics lecture you’d both just had and not expect you to react.
Newton’s 3rd Law states that every action has an equal and opposite reaction.. or in this case, the same reaction you were both hoping for.
#drew replies!#gf cece ✯#100 celebration ⭐️#peter parker#peter parker x you#peter parker drabble#peter parker x reader#peter parker blurb#tasm!peter parker
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holy shit…i am obsessed with your frat president nico blurb… a full fic of that would change my life
I WANNA DO IT
#cece answers#I just need to finish these valentines blurbs first#and then I have no other responsibilities👀
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hi angel<333 do u have any thoughts on eddie x shy! reader 0_0
(its me. im the shy reader. i cannot speak to people)
Hi lover girl!! I have many thoughts bc I’m the same. Social anxiety and all that bs.
Soooo obviously eddie would be hella protective over you.
Imagine him introducing you to the hellfire club and you just mumble a meek ‘hi’ before crawling into Eddie’s lap and hiding your face in his neck. If Dustin or Mike or even Lucas tried to talk to you eddie would answer for you if he could allowing you to stay hidden in his neck. If he couldn’t he’d let you tell him and then he’d tell them what you said.
He’d also be the boyfriend that orders your food on the nights you go out on dates? Mumbling off your order without a second thought so you don’t have to face the big bad waiter.
However when eddie took you to meet his uncle you didn’t talk. You didn’t even mumble a hello to him. It was a good thing eddie told him you were shy or he’d probably think you were being held captive with the look on your face.
A lot of your time is probably spent anywhere no one else is. Not because you guys wanna be alone constantly but because Eddie is honestly scared about overstimming you.
Eddie would definitely get good at telling the signs of when you’d need to leave public spaces. Your antsy,can’t sit still. Picking at your fingers or face hands shaking or you constantly looking at the door. Eddie would grab his keys In a heartbeat and leave dragging you along.
Eddie’s favorite thing though is the way you act innocent even though he knows you’re anything but. He watched you play dumb when Jason made a sex joke and you just tilted your head at him. In reality eddie was sure you understood the joke, the amount of times eddie had been balls deep inside you at that point.
Eddie has his days where he’s mean to you in bed because he finds your whimpers and begs cute. He stays relatively soft though especially seeing as he was your first boyfriend. It’s normally a lot of praises and soft kisses to make sure you know you’re a good girl.
Sigh, I need a Eddie in my life <3
I’d probably go more into detail if I wasn’t exhausted but I am so feast until I feel better <3
#tori writes#cecee 🐻#answered asks#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x you#eddie stranger things#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson headcanons
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I may be throwing my hat in the fboy!eddie ring….
#got a blurb idea that I need to get out#for my sweet cece 💕#I’ve never wrote him like this so we shall see how it goes#but valentines makes me bitter 🤷🏻♀️
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Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri, roommates!au
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Summary: You, Lando, and Oscar are roommates. The three of you promise to take care of each other. It takes you all far too long to admit just how much you mean it. featuring dj!Lando for cece :) based on a blurb I wrote for my 1k celebration so if the first bit feels familiar that’s why! 7.4k words
Warnings: alcohol, mentions of vomiting (non graphic), illness, a breakup, and they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates)
Lando’s not expecting the phone call he gets from you. It’s late, too late, really, for him to even be awake, let alone for you to be calling. Oscar’s sitting on the couch next to him, gaming controller in hand, and when Lando swipes to answer the call, he mouths the words who is it? Lando mouths your name in reply, and Oscar’s half asleep flat expression turns into a look of concern. The three of you are roommates, but you’re gone for the night. Lando didn’t ask where you were going when you left.
“Hello?” He asks, waiting for your response.
There’s a sniffle, then a hiccupy gasp for air that has Lando sitting up straight in his seat. “Lan. Could you- fuck, m’sorry, just- d’you think you could pick me up?”
Lando stares widely at Oscar for a moment, heart clenching in his chest. You sound upset- more than upset, really. He stands up, already searching frantically for his keys.
“Yeah, love, of course,” he says as Oscar follows suit and stands up. “Should I bring Oscar?”
You sniffle again. “Yeah, please, just…”
“It’s okay. Send me your location, yeah? Take a deep breath, we’ll be there soon.”
You mumble something, and then you hang up on him. Lando shoves his phone in his pocket and looks up at Oscar, who’s holding the keys to his car. That works. Oscar heads for the door, while Lando makes a pit stop in the kitchen. When he meets his friend in the entryway, Oscar’s staring at him with confusion.
“She’s crying,” Lando says in explanation, holding a paper bag close to his chest.
They make it across town in record time. Oscar groans when they pull into the apartment complex you’d sent the location of.
“Isn’t this her boyfriend’s place?” He asks, brows furrowed.
Lando doesn’t get a chance to answer, because you step out of the front door, and they’re both distracted. Oscar swears under his breath, and Lando follows suit at the sight of you- you’re in a t-shirt and shorts. There’s snow on the ground. Oscar pulls his hoodie over his head just before you make it to the car door.
You climb into the backseat and collapse in on yourself. Both Lando and Oscar are turned towards you, and Lando’s sure their facial expressions are matching looks of concern. They both hand over their items without a word- Oscar’s hoodie, and Lando’s carton of ice cream and a spoon. You pull the hoodie over your head and open the ice cream.
“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” Oscar says, voice low.
Lando nods. “Yeah. We can just sit here together until you feel up to anything else.”
You nod and chew on your lower lip, and the light from the street lamp outside catches on the tear tracks on your cheeks. “He dumped me. Can we just go home?”
Lando reaches his hand back to squeeze yours. Your fingers are ice cold. “Of course,” he says softly.
As Oscar pulls away, he and Lando exchange a look of worry and anger. They’ve never liked your boyfriend, but they hate to see you hurting, too.
“Thanks,” you add, voice small in the backseat. You hold onto Lando’s hand tightly. “I knew I could count on you guys.”
Lando squeezes your hand again. You’re quiet most of the way back, and he lets it go. Oscar’s right to not push you to talk about it. That’ll come in its own time.
Oscar drives back to your shared apartment, pulling into a parking space in the garage. He gets out before Lando and slips around to the backseat, opening the door for you. The Aussie wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.
When you all get upstairs, you collapse onto the couch. Lando follows suit, not wanting to leave your side. Oscar isn’t far behind. He grabs the remote and turns on the TV, something quiet that Lando doesn’t pay attention to. He just watches you for signs of distress. You stare at the tv blankly and chip away at the ice cream with your spoon, leaning on Oscar as Lando leans on you. Slowly, the three of you melt into the couch, none of you wanting to break the silence and suggest going to bed.
…..
Oscar wakes up on the couch at 3 in the morning, and when he looks around, this awful feeling hits him. It’s like someone’s reached into his chest and clawed his heart out. You’re laying there, your head on his stomach, one of your arms over his thigh. Lando’s laying nearly on top of you- together, the three of you are like a stack of toppled dominoes. There are blankets strewn over all of you. Oscar can vaguely remember Lando’s attempt to cover all three of you up as you all began to drift off.
You’re fast asleep, and when Oscar peers down at you he can still see the tear tracks on your cheeks. He’s never liked your boyfriend- ex boyfriend, now, thank god- but breakups are awful no matter what. He’s got half a mind to go over and confront the guy, because who leaves their girlfriend- ex girlfriend- to walk out of their apartment in the dead of winter in a t-shirt and shorts? Even if you had broken up, he seemingly hadn’t given you the chance to put on sweatpants and a hoodie. Or maybe you hadn’t wanted to stay long enough.
Lando shifts in his sleep, pressing closer to you. It’s only now that Oscar notices Lando’s hand linked with yours, fingers knitted together on your stomach. A pang of something flares up in him at the sight, at how right it feels to have you both right here like this. He does his best to tamp it down. He brushes his fingers against your cheek tentatively, relaxing just a bit at the feeling of your soft skin under his fingertips.
You nudge into the touch, eyelids just barely fluttering. Oscar wonders to himself how anyone could ever let you go. The sight of you in the backseat, teary eyed in his hoodie, is burned into the back of his brain. He’d do anything to keep you from ever crying again.
When he wakes up again, it’s much later in the morning. You and Lando are both gone, and something about that makes his heart clench. But he hears noise in the kitchen- Lando, talking to someone, the sound of food sizzling on the stove. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes before trudging his way over there.
Lando’s at the stove, cooking something that smells awfully delicious and makes Oscar’s stomach growl. You’re sitting on the counter nearby the way you always do, still in Oscar’s hoodie, hands folded in your lap. You’re the first one to spot him- you smile, but it’s subdued. There’s a tinge of sadness to it. Something aching behind your eyes.
“Morning,” he finally says.
Lando turns over his shoulder with a smile. “I was just about to send her to wake you,” he says. “I made breakfast.”
Oscar nods. “Thanks. Smells really good.”
He takes his normal spot on a stool at the kitchen island. He passes by both of you on the way there, and you reach out to squeeze his upper arm. He brushes a hand over your knee and smiles at you.
You’re quiet. Usually, you’d be chatting their ears off. But Lando plates up the food and distributes it without a word from you, and it has Oscar feeling sick to his stomach. You stay sitting on the counter, and you push the food around on your plate with one hand. Lando sits next to Oscar and exchanges a look with him.
Both boys clear their plates without a word from you. You’ve only taken a few bites. Oscar clears his throat as he clears his and Lando’s plates. Your eyes flicker up to meet his.
“I stand by what I said last night. We don’t have to talk,” he says. “But if you want to talk, we’re here.”
You shift and smile just a little. “Not much to talk about, really. The breakup has been coming for a long time, I think. So. It’s fine, really. Just weird, you know? We’d been dating for a year- that’s a year of my life… not wasted, but. Weird to lose someone like that so quickly.”
Both Oscar and Lando nod in understanding. You nod back. That’s that. If you don’t want to talk about it more, they won’t force you. It’s enough to know you’re safe at home, really.
…..
When Lando has his first DJ set after your break up, he begs you to come and watch. Much to his and Oscar’s surprise, you agree eagerly. They’d both thought it would be a harder fight. Lando’s been getting bigger and bigger DJ gigs- not enough to quit his day job yet, but enough to get excited about. You haven’t been to them recently, which had been a bit of a sore spot for Lando, though he’d tried not to let it on to you. So. If you want to go, he’s not going to question you on it.
On the way there, you size him up in the back of the Uber. You tug at the collar of his shirt.
“You’re too buttoned up,” you say, nose wrinkled.
Oscar laughs and nods. “Yeah, lose a button,” he adds.
He reaches over and undoes the top button of Lando’s shirt with nimble fingers, and great, now Lando’s sweating.
“Or two,” you chime in.
When you reach up and undo another button, Lando thinks the blush must be obvious on his cheeks now. It’s probably running down his neck, washing over his chest, just like the soft touch of your fingers against his skin.
“Why not three?” Oscar says, smirking.
Before he can undo the third one, Lando bats Oscar’s hand away and glares at him. Oscar’s had a shot before they left the apartment, pregaming because he hates crowds and loud places and social environments. He’s definitely a little tipsy, and because of that, he’s a bit more daring. It’s going to be the death of Lando.
By the time he’s halfway through the set, Lando’s gone and lost both of you in the crowd. He won’t lie, it makes him a bit nervous. He knows you were there one second, and then the next time he looked, you were both gone. He knows in his head Oscar won’t have let you out of his sight, but it doesn’t stop his heart from clenching. He thinks of his phone, down under the stage, itches to have it in his hand so he can text or call or find you, somehow.
When he finally climbs down and grabs his phone, it’s lit up with a bunch of notifications. He swipes past the ones from Max asking how late his set goes, past the ones from friends who stopped by, telling him how good he did. In the middle, there’s a text from Oscar.
Call when you’re done.
He calls. When Oscar answers, he gives him directions to meet the two of you in a bathroom and then promptly hangs up. Lando would be more concerned with the two of you apparently hiding out together in a bathroom if Oscar hadn’t told him about it. He doesn’t have the energy to let himself get jealous. He just heads towards the two of you. He knocks on the single bathroom door, calls out to Oscar, and it swings open.
“She had a little too much,” Oscar says.
Behind him, you’re kneeling next to the toilet, Oscar’s jacket underneath your knees. It’s such a sweet touch that it makes Lando’s heart ache- there’s just something about seeing Oscar taking care of you. But he does his best to focus and steps into the bathroom. Your hair is pulled back in a messy ponytail. Your skin is pale, and when you turn to look at Lando, your eyes are bloodshot. He hisses and turns to Oscar.
“I know, I know, I said I’d watch her-“ Oscar says, raising his hands defensively. “She’s good at pretending to be sober. Until she’s way too far gone, and then…”
“Lan!” you call out, high pitched and wobbly. “I love you.”
Lando widens his eyes at Oscar, who nods.
“There’s been a lot of that. About both of us. She was not happy when I pulled her out of sight of you.” Oscar sighs. “I can’t figure out if it’s just- you know, she loves her friends, or-“
Oscar trails off. Lando furrows his brows.
“Lan,” you repeat again, and he turns over his shoulder to look at you, then tries not to visibly wince. “Can we go home now?”
“Yeah, love,” he says, softly. “You done throwing up, you okay to move?”
You shrug, then nod. Great. Not super convincing. When he turns to Oscar, he winces. Lando drags a hand down his own face. Interrogating Oscar will have to wait- the first priority is to get the three of you out of there, hopefully without you throwing up on them. He sighs heavily and makes a plan in his head.
Lando’s not sure what god he pleased, what good karma he’s earned, but the three of you make it outside without you throwing up again. He breathes a sigh of relief. Then he and Oscar spend 5 minutes debating on whether walking or getting a ride would be better- you’re drunk and wobbly, but at least if you threw up, it’d be on the sidewalk. Oscar hates that idea, is worried about you tripping and falling on the way, about how they’ll manage to get you all the way back. You stand there and watch them argue, Oscar’s hand on your shoulder to keep you from falling over.
“Boys, stop fighting,” you say hazily. “You’re both so pretty.”
Lando’s eyes go wide at that. He stares at Oscar, who seems to make a face that says I know. Lando turns to you. You’re smiling widely up at him, blinking glassy eyes and tilting your head. You reach out and tap your fingertip against his nose, then laugh. Lando swallows tightly.
Oscar uses his distraction to flag down a cab. Lando can’t find the energy to argue anymore. They’d normally put you in the middle, but this time they sit you next to the door, just in case you do need to throw up. You spend the entire ride with your head on Lando’s shoulder, and he can tell you’re starting to get drowsy just from the way you sag against him. When they climb out of the car, Oscar puts one of your arms over his shoulder, and Lando does the same on the other side.
By the time they get you up to the apartment and into the bathroom, you’re half asleep, leaning heavily on both of them. When your hand slips against the bare skin of his chest, he swallows tightly. Oscar puts toothpaste on the toothbrush for you, and Lando helps you brush your teeth, his hand wrapped around yours gently.
Then they head for your bedroom. Lando grabs you a pair of shorts and a t-shirt from your dresser. He sets them on the bed and gets ready to leave the room so you can change, and then slaps his hand over his eyes when you start to take off your dress before he even gets the chance. He hears Oscar’s hand hit his own face, too.
“We live together,” you say, and Lando can practically hear your eye roll. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
Lando sighs. “It is, and you’re drunk, so.”
You laugh. “I guess. I’m dressed now.”
Lando groans when he uncovers his eyes and spots the pair of shorts still on the bed. He puts one hand over Oscar’s eyes, one back over his own, and says, “Shorts. Now.”
You grumble something about taking them off later anyways, which has Lando melting into a puddle over the thought. He hears you shuffling around, and then you grab both of his wrists and tug them away from his and Oscar’s faces. You’re fully dressed this time, and you collapse backwards onto the bed.
“Will you guys stay till I fall asleep?” you ask, softly.
Both of them nod and sit down on the edge of the bed. You curl up in the middle, each of them on either side. Oscar lays a tentative hand on your shoulder, while Lando brushes hair from your face. It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, melting into the bed.
When you do, Lando nods silently towards the door. Oscar nods in agreement, and they both slip out of the bedroom. Lando looks back to check on you as he shuts the door. You look peaceful, finally.
Oscar heads for the kitchen, and Lando follows. He reaches into the fridge and comes back with two cans of sparkling water, which Lando accepts eagerly. He’d been unaware of just how thirsty he was until that moment. He drinks half the can in one go and then looks at Oscar expectantly.
“I don’t know,” Oscar prefaces. “I’m not sure about anything. But. She couldn’t stop staring at you up on the stage, and she told me about ten times how pretty you were. And then she said it about me, too. To my face. And like, right after that she threw up, but.”
“But,” Lando repeats. “You saw something. Different than her just being a drunk mess.”
“It felt different,” Oscar says, softly. “Just. I can’t explain it.”
Lando nods. He presses his lips into a thin line. Oscar follows suit, rubbing his hand against the smooth surface of the countertop.
“What do we do?” Lando asks quietly. He feels wildly out of his depth here. “I mean. D’you think she has feelings for…”
Me? You? Lando’s not sure what to say. He’s not sure what he wants the answer to be either. Suddenly, he feels sick to his stomach. In an ideal world, he knows what he’d like to happen here, but that’s a pipe dream. Unrealistic.
“She’s really vulnerable,” he says, before Oscar can even answer. “And like. That would really make a good roommate situation weird, right?”
Oscar laughs, but it sounds forced. “Yeah.”
“Okay,” Lando says. “Okay. So. We just let it go.”
Oscar nods. There’s something in the look on his face that makes Lando think maybe there’s more to this. That they shouldn’t brush it off so easily. But it’s late, and he’s exhausted, and this topic feels so, so difficult to broach right now. So he claps Oscar on the shoulder with an open palm, and then disappears into his bedroom.
Lando’s avoidance of the subject doesn’t last long, because the next morning, before you wake up, Oscar corners him in the kitchen.
“We need to talk,” Oscar says, which is never a good sentence to hear at any hour, let alone before the sun has even risen.
Realistically, he should’ve known this was coming, because Oscar never willingly wakes up this early on a weekend. It’s still dark outside. Lando can barely make out Oscar’s facial expressions in the dim light. He flicks a light switch and watches the other man wince.
“Rude,” Oscar grumbles.
“Yeah, that’s what you get for starting off my morning with that sentence,” Lando defends. When Oscar frowns, he softens. “What’s up?”
As if he hadn’t expected to actually get to this point, Oscar shrinks in on himself. Lando leans against the counter and tilts his head. Oscar’s younger, but he’s usually the more mature one. It’s odd to see him so lost for what to say.
“Last night,” Oscar starts, chewing on his lip when he pauses. “She- I- I can’t stop thinking about…”
Lando’s gut wobbles. “About her. You like her. And you think she feels the same.”
There’s this weird jealousy in his chest. He’s jealous of both of you, he realizes, and he grips the counter behind him with his hand. He wants to be the one you like, and he wants to be the one Oscar’s into, too. He’s known it for a while, really, but this is the first time he’s had to confront it head on. And it’s - it’s a problem, probably. His best friends and his roommates. He can’t have both. Can’t have it all.
Oscar frowns and shakes his head. “No. Well. Yeah, but- it’s more than that. It’s.”
Lando tamps down the ache in his chest, plasters on a smile. “Oscar. It’s okay.”
“No,” Oscar says, dragging out the sound. “You don’t- you don’t get it.”
“You guys would make a cute couple,” Lando says quietly. “Like. Really, Osc, you’d be good together-“
“I don’t just want her,” Oscar interrupts, and Lando's heart skips a beat. “I don’t- fuck, it sounds crazy, but. I woke up that morning, after we picked her up, and you were both on the couch with me, and I just thought, yeah, this is how I want to wake up every day. And if that’s crazy then- forget I said anything, but-“
Lando clears his throat. “It’s not crazy.”
Oscar freezes, one hand halfway through his hair. “It’s not?”
Lando shakes his head and bites his lip. “No. I think I’ve been feeling the same. Just… I felt crazy, you know?”
Oscar nods. Lando can’t stop staring at him, at the red flush on his cheeks, the wide eyes. He reaches his foot out and nudges it against Oscar’s shin.
“I meant what I said last night, about her being vulnerable,” he says, and Oscar sighs heavily. “She needs friends right now. And she doesn’t need friends who are caught up in figuring out their feelings for each other and maybe her, too.”
Oscar huffs. “So we just…”
“Wait and see?” Lando asks sheepishly. “Feels shitty, I know, but our first priority is making sure she’s okay.”
Oscar nods. Lando nods back. And that’s that, for a while. And maybe for a while, it’s enough to know that Oscar feels it, too. To know he’s not alone.
…..
You know Lando well enough to know he’s not one to admit when he’s sick. You’d think he’d be the exact opposite, but he tends to try and tough it out until the very last minute. He hides it well, except when it comes to you and Oscar.
He’s getting ready for a DJ set nearly a month after the one where you’d gotten far too drunk. There’s loud music playing through the apartment as he eats dinner, dancing along to the beat. You sit on the kitchen counter in your usual spot, and Oscar stands next to you. You’re both watching Lando bounce around the room. He’s trying to convince you he’s fine without actually saying it. It’s not working.
He leaves the room for a moment, looking for his phone. Oscar looks up at you.
“He’s sick, isn’t he?” He asks.
You nod and worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “Definitely.”
But Lando says nothing about not feeling well, so you do your hair and makeup and get into an Uber with him and Oscar to head for a club. You and Oscar exchange a glance when Lando presses his forehead to the window of the car. He’s mumbling along to the song that’s playing over the speakers. There’s sweat on his temple. You’re starting to worry.
He tumbles out of the car and into the club with you and Oscar in tow. Once the bright lights and loud music hit him, he perks up a bit. If you know him, you know it won’t last. He’s going to wear himself out during his set and then fall apart right after. He sends the two of you to the bar, tells you to put it on his tab. Oscar loops his hand in your arm to keep you close- you’re not complaining. Without saying anything to each other, you each order plain Cokes. Lando won’t question if there’s alcohol in it. You order him his go to drink- a gin & tonic, but ask the bartender to go light on the gin. You hand it off to him before he heads up for his set, and when he hesitates to kiss your cheek like he normally would, you eye him carefully.
“I’m fine,” he says, which tells you more than anything that he’s definitely not fine.
Next to you, Oscar scoffs. You press the back of your hand to Lando’s forehead and sigh. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering shut. He’s burning up.
“It’s a short set,” he says, slurred but loud enough to be heard over the thud of the bass. “I’ll be fine.”
You watch as he walks away. Oscar takes your arm in his hand again, pulls you away to a nearby booth. Normally, you love watching Lando’s sets, love listening to the music he’s chosen, and watching his face light up at the crowd’s reaction. But now, as he takes his place, you just feel worried. You can tell Oscar’s worried too, just from the way he drums his fingers against the table in an unsteady pattern. Normally the two of you would find yourselves out on the dance floor, especially when Lando plays the songs he knows you both love, but you can’t find it in you tonight.
When he stumbles off stage from his set, he’s grinning ear to ear, but his eyes are half closed and there’s a thin sheen of sweat on his skin that you know isn’t from the dj-ing. You and Oscar stand to meet him, and you brush damp curls from his forehead to check his temperature again. He feels even worse. Oscar winces as Lando sways in front of the two of you.
“Let's get you home,” you suggest, and he just nods.
When you get back to the apartment, you deposit Lando on the couch. Oscar stays with him, pulling a blanket over Lando and propping him up with pillows. You head for the bathroom first and open the medicine cabinet.
“Lan, what’s wrong?” You call out.
You hear his disoriented grumbling. Oscar translates. “He says he’s fine.”
You lean out into the living room and fix Lando with a glare. “Shut up. You need medicine. What’s wrong?”
He sighs and sinks into the couch. “Sore throat. Headache. Little bit of a cough.”
You nod and return to the surprisingly well stocked medicine cabinet. You grab the cold medicine that describes his symptoms the best and head back to the living room. Lando has the blanket wrapped tightly around him like a cocoon, and he has his head resting on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s running his hand up and down Lando’s upper arm, a look of concern on his face.
You hand Oscar the medicine. “Here. Give him a dose, will you? I’m gonna heat up some soup or something.”
“M’not a baby,” Lando mutters.
“Could’ve fooled me,” Oscar teases gently.
Though the medicine cabinet was well stocked, the kitchen is less so. None of you like grocery shopping. You manage to find a can of chicken soup in the back of a cupboard, and it’s not expired, so you heat it up quickly. You return to the living room with the soup and a large glass of water.
Lando is fully tucked into Oscar’s side now, draped messily across the other boy. You sigh at the sight, at the way Oscar runs his hand through Lando’s hair, at the content little smile on Lando’s lips. Even when he’s sick, this is enough to bring him comfort. You wonder, then, if you could be enough, too. The memories pass through your brain- the way they’ve both taken care of you after your break up. Now it’s your chance to return the favor.
You sit down on the couch on Lando’s other side. Oscar takes the bowl of soup from you carefully, and then you hold the glass of water up to Lando’s lips. He sips carefully, then pulls away with a soft sigh. His cheeks are rosy red, and he shivers. You and Oscar both wince in sympathy.
“You should’ve told us,” Oscar says, quietly. “Should’ve canceled the set.”
Lando shrugs and elbows him lightly. “Got through it, didn’t I? Can’t go around canceling sets if I’m gonna make it big, can I?”
You roll your eyes and nudge the Brit slightly. “Your health is more important than you making it big,” you chide.
He turns to look at you, gaze hazy but still amused. “Mm. You won’t be saying that when I’ve got enough money to take care of the two of you for the rest of your lives.”
“Is that your plan?” Oscar asks, a teasing tone in his voice.
Lando closes his eyes and nods. “You two can be my sugar babies,” he asserts. “Never work another day in your life.”
“Okay, Norris,” you say, biting back a laugh. “Eat your soup.”
He does as he’s told, melting back into the couch as he holds the bowl and spoon in shaky hands. Oscar keeps his hands on the bowl, too, just to be safe. To show your support, you lean against Lando’s shoulder to help prop him up. As much as you hate to see him not feeling well, you think that maybe you could get used to this.
You tuck him into his bed later that night. Oscar’s next to you, having carried him into the bedroom from the living room. Lando was pretty much dead weight, high on cold medicine and his fever and so, so out of it. You pull the covers up to his chin and smooth sweaty hair from his forehead. You cringe at the clammy feeling, and Oscar laughs.
Lando blinks up at both of you with heavy eyes. “Meant it, you know.”
“Meant what?” You ask.
He lets his eyelids fall closed. “Gonna take care of you two. The same way you take care of me. I think abou’ it all the time.”
He yawns, turns his head, and falls asleep nearly immediately after that, lips barely parted, chest rising and falling smoothly. You feel frozen for a moment. He looks so peaceful. He wants to take care of you. Your heart is pounding.
Oscar wraps his hand around your elbow and squeezes softly. “He’ll be okay.”
He thinks you’re worried. You don’t know how to tell him that Lando being sick isn’t the problem. The what’s got you all mixed up inside is the way Lando says it so easily. Never work another day in your life. I think about it all the time.
You swallow and back away from the bed, because you have the strongest urge to crawl right in next to him and drag Oscar right with you, until you’re all curled up in a pile together. You can’t do that. Oscar leads you out to the living room. You think he knows something’s up, because he doesn’t let go of you the whole time, but he doesn’t say anything either. You need to shake this feeling. You can’t think about them like this. It won’t end well.
“I’ll make us some popcorn, yeah?” Oscar suggests. “We can watch Bake Off.”
You nod as you make your way over to the couch. You try to tell yourself you should keep your distance, should sit far away from him. But when he sits down and pulls you into his chest, you can’t help but sigh happily.
“When we inevitably catch whatever he has,” you say, “we’re gonna need more chicken noodle soup.”
…..
Oscar comes home from work one day a few weeks later, and finds the two of you in the living room- a pretty normal occurrence lately. You’re laid out on the couch, your ankles in Lando’s lap. You smile up at him happily, and he laughs. He’s glad to see you, honestly, both of you. He’s had a rough day. This is exactly what he needed to come home to.
“Comfy?” He asks.
You nod eagerly. “We saved some pizza for you. It’s in the kitchen.”
He snorts. “Gee. Thanks. Couldn’t wait till I got home?”
You pout up at him. “I was hungry.”
Lando nods in agreement. “She was being whiny, Osc, had to feed her.”
“I’m gonna shower,” he says, leaning over to ruffle your hair. You press into the touch, like a cat. “And then I’ll have dinner.”
“Ooh, take a shower beer,” you suggest.
Lando laughs. “I was gonna say the exact same thing.”
Without even thinking, Oscar leans over the couch and kisses both of your foreheads. “Geniuses, the both of you.”
Neither you or Lando seem to question it, or the blush on his cheeks, so he doesn’t even try to explain.
By the time he finishes showering, and finishes his shower beer, a bit of the stress has melted away. He sighs heavily when he steps out, towel dries his hair, and pulls on a pair of shorts and a hoodie. He eats a slice of pizza, cold, in the kitchen.
When he makes it back to the living room, you’re curled up in Lando’s arms, halfway in his lap. He grumbles, not even realizing he’s making the noise until you look up at him. You throw one arm out wide, beckoning him close. Lando looks up with a happy, soft smile and pats the open space on his chest. And really, Oscar’s had a shit day, and the spot between Lando’s jaw and chest looks quite cozy, and if he’s being invited, then-
He collapses into the two of you, slips his arm around you and presses the side of his face to Lando’s chest. Oscar takes a deep breath, smells Lando’s cologne and your perfume, the intoxicating mix of both of you, and closes his eyes. He feels someone’s finger drag down the slope of his nose, and another hand brushes his hair from his forehead.
“Bad day?” You ask.
He’s exhausted, and everything is a bit hazy feeling. Syrupy and slow. He could fall asleep like this, probably. You sound a million miles away, and also like you’re tucked away in his chest, like he’d like for you to always be. Close and protected.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “Really bad day.”
A thumb brushes over his cheek. There’s a hand in his damp hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He lets out a fluttering sigh.
“Poor baby,” you say. He thinks the hand on his face is yours, the hand in his hair, Lando’s. “We just gotta wait for Lan to make it big, yeah? ‘nd then me and you can be his sugar babies, let him pay for everything. Just like he promised.”
Oscar laughs and rubs his cheek against Lando’s chest in some sort of nod. He can feel Lando laughing, too, high pitched and breathless. His hand squeezes at your hip, where it landed when he sat down.
“I’d take such good care of the two of you,” Lando says, quietly.
Oscar knows how much truth the words hold, and suddenly his stomach aches with want. Because Lando already takes care of both of you and him any way he can, and Oscar does it for you and Lando, too, and they both wish they could do it even more so. Could kiss away your tears, could hold your hand when you cross the street. He wants it. So does Lando.
“You already do,” you say, even quieter.
Oscar feels Lando’s breath hitch in his chest. He opens one eye and finds your eyes closed, your hand pressed to his cheek. Lando’s hand, banded around Oscar’s back, squeezes softly. Oscar holds his breath.
You shrug, like you know they’re watching without even opening your eyes.
“You both do,” you add. “Picked me up when I called, checked on me ever since…” you sigh and bury your face deeper into Lando’s chest. Oscar reaches up and cups your cheek in his hand tentatively. “Couldn’t ask for more.”
Even on the worst of days, Oscar thinks that maybe you’re right. He couldn’t ask for more. He’s got everything right here.
…..
A few nights later, Lando wakes up to the creak of the door, and his eyes fly open. He turns to look and finds you standing in the doorway, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders.
“Love?” Lando asks, quietly. It’s the dead of night. “You alright?”
You shrug and sigh. “Can we cuddle?”
He blinks and nods, wonder fleetingly if he should go and get Oscar, because this feels unfair, but- then you step backwards, walking away. You must want to go to your bed, must feel more comfortable there. Lando slips out of his bed, takes his phone with him, and follows after you. His confusion grows when you don’t stop at the door to your bedroom. You walk right past and head for Oscar’s room. You open the door, and Lando looks past you to the warm glow of the lamp Oscar always forgets to turn off, to his sleeping form.
“You’re easier to wake up,” you say, softly.
Lando blinks wildly as you trudge your way over to the bed. “Love?”
“Want cuddles,” you state as you climb into the bed next to Oscar, who’s snoring softly. “From both of you. Come on.”
And, well. You should probably all talk about this, really. But you’re already tucking yourself under the blankets, and Oscar looks cute, and Lando’s so, so tired, and he wants cuddles, too, so. He sighs and makes his way over to the bed. You grin and roll towards Oscar, who finally shifts awake at the motion.
“Hi?” He says, confused, sleep coating his voice.
You don’t bother to explain, just slip an arm around him and curl close. Lando sits down on the edge of the bed and makes eye contact with Oscar, who seems frozen between confusion and happiness.
“She wanted cuddles,” Lando explains. “From both of us. I’m easier to wake up, apparently.”
Oscar shrugs and nods. He rolls towards you and throws his arm over your middle. His fingers motion towards Lando, who breathes a sigh of relief. Sure, they’ve talked, but there was always a chance Oscar changed his mind, or that this would be weird. But, if he’s offering…
Lando crawls into bed next to you. You let out a soft sigh when he lays down next to you, and he can’t fight the smile that crosses his lips. He slips his arm around you, his skin brushing against Oscar’s, too. Oscar presses a kiss to your forehead. Lando bites back a flare of jealousy, and he’s not even sure which one of you he’s jealous of. Then Oscar brushes his fingertips against his bicep, a soft, gentle touch that reminds him he’s part of this, too. Lando kisses the back of your neck and closes his eyes, already sleepy again.
…..
When Oscar wakes up the next morning, you and Lando are still in his bed. He breathes a sigh of relief at that, having been worried one of you would wake up and panic and leave. He watches the two of you for a few moments before he lets his eyes slip closed again. The weight of your head on his chest is comforting, and the soft rise and fall of Lando’s ribs under his hand is even more so. It’s rare that he’s awake before either of you unless he has to be up early.
He opens one eye again, just to look, just to take it in. Lando’s head is pressed against your shoulder, the top of his forehead and his mass of curly hair just visible to Oscar. He could get used to this. He’d like to wake up like this all the time, the three of you all wrapped up together. And maybe that’s wishful thinking, but for at least one morning, he gets to have it.
If he wasn’t so worried he’d wake you up and spoil the moment, he’d trace the lines of your face with his fingertips and draw patterns on your shoulders. He’d do it to Lando, too- shove his tank top up until he could touch the bare skin of his ribs, run his fingers over the bumps. But he wants this to last as long as possible, so he just lays there and stares.
Eventually, you start to stir, and with you, so does Lando. It’s strange, the way it makes Oscar’s heart clench in his chest. He wants so badly for both of you to just stay right here, with him. If he could hold you both in his arms like this forever he would.
When you open your eyes, you smile softly at him. Lando shifts behind you and opens one eye, and the same soft smile slips across his lips. You press yourself farther into Oscar, and reach a hand behind you to pull Lando close.
“My boys,” you say, quietly. “My favorite boys.”
And. That’s when it hits Oscar, like a punch to the chest. There’s something in the way you say it, something about the look on your face. He just knows. He knows because he sees it in himself, in Lando. He doesn’t need to talk about it right this second, doesn’t need to ask. He just knows you feel it too. So he leans up and over, hears the way Lando’s holding his breath. He moves his hand and presses his lips to your cheek, to your warm, soft skin. Then he does the same to Lando. You smile even wider. Lando, not one to be left out, does the same to you, then Oscar, leaving his skin burning. You follow suit, and your lips are warm against Oscar’s jaw. He thinks maybe he’s in heaven.
The three of you fall back asleep in a tighter pile, wrapped up in each other’s limbs. There’ll be time to talk later. For now, it’s enough to just know.
…..
A month later, you’re in the front of the crowd at Lando’s DJ set, watching with wide, bright eyes. He has three buttons undone, the work of you and Oscar during the car ride over to the club. He’s grinning down at you as someone hands him a shot, and then he tosses it back with a grimace. You wonder if he sees the stars in your eyes as you look up at him.
Oscar’s behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist. He has a drink in his other hand- your drink, taken from your own grip when you started moving your hands to the music. His nose is pressed behind your ear, and when he speaks, his breath tickles against your skin and makes you shiver.
“Y’know, he said he’d take care of us,” Oscar says, loud enough to be heard over the music, but just barely. “But all I can think of right now are all the ways I wanna take care of him.”
You laugh, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “It’s the unbuttoned shirt,” you tell him, gesturing at your other boyfriend. “S’like kryptonite.”
Never mind the fact that the shirt’s only unbuttoned because of the two of you. Oscar laughs and squeezes his arm around your middle. Lando tilts his head at the two of you, like he knows exactly what you’re up to.
“Yeah,” Oscar agrees. “But that’s less buttons for us to deal with later.”
You nod in agreement. “Good point.”
When Lando’s shirt is laying on the floor later, next to Oscar’s shirt and your dress, and you’re all slumped together on the bed in a pile, you remember what Oscar said earlier and laugh. Neither of them bother to ask what you’re laughing about. They just kiss your cheeks and join in with laughter of their own.
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— 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 & 𝒊 | 𝒆. 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒎𝒔
mean neighbor!ellie x sunshine fem!reader, angst / fluff / hurt + comfort, modern!au warnings: language / 18+ content (mdni!), wc: 5k
you have a hot new neighbor…too bad she doesn’t want a thing to do with you!
tagging those who commented / liked my previous interest post!: @loversreligion , @tahni-04 , @parrotpeggy , @acnologiasgf , @maybe-cece (happy birthday gemini queen ! <3)
an — first time writing for ellie ! content warnings include oral (r!receiving), fingering (r!receiving). not my first time writing 18+ content, but my first time posting eeek. i apologize for the person ellie has turned me into lmaooo. feel free to send me more ideas, blurbs, hcs, etc.
neighbor!ellie who moves in on a hot sticky july day.
ac’s busted in the common areas, elevator hasn’t worked in weeks, and she’s moved into a unit on the fifth floor.
neighbor!ellie who’s admittedly too far gone and incredibly irritated because jesse keeps fucking around and they almost drop her flat screen on the third flight of steps.
neighbor!ellie who finally gets most of the boxes and furniture settled and doesn’t even get to collapse on the couch for .2 seconds before someone’s knocking on the door.
yanks the knob so hard, the door rattles on its hinges.
eyes narrow when she sees you, all neat, not sweaty, dressed in an outfit definitely not indicative of a night in. only makes her even more annoyed because she just wants two seconds of peace.
“yes?” her tone is sharp, gaze bored because your lips part thrice before the words are spilling out.
“i know it’s miserable out, and this building can be a piece of shit, so i made some blackberry tea!”
neighbor!ellie who gives the glass, beaded with condensation, a brief glance before crossing her arms over her chest.
“i’m allergic to blackberries,” ellie says flatly.
your round eyes widen impossibly before tucking the glass behind your back.
“oh fuck, i’m so sorry,” you babble. “i have peach! or maybe mint? i—”
“i’ll pass.”
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t beat around the bush and makes a move to close the door because she hadn’t even checked into the conversation.
“if you ever need anything, i’m right next door!” you chirp. “i’m-”
“yup, yeah, got it. good night.”
and the door is shutting in your face.
neighbor!ellie who’s trying to sleep in because she stayed up all night playing tekken 4 with jesse jolting awake when she hears three soft raps against the front door.
has an inkling of who it could be so she’s only mildly surprised when she sees you standing on the welcome mat that says ‘no weenies allowed’ because jesse thought it was the funniest thing (ellie’d been only slightly amused).
“morning,” you smile.
you have a plate covered in foil in your hands and ellie gives you a brief onceover to find that you’re dressed to the nines again (admittedly it’s just a simple sundress, but the red and white ginham cuts at the meatiest part of your thighs and she has to remind herself to keep her eyes up).
“it’s…” ellie trails off, glances at the clock on the oven to find that it’s not even 9am. “…8:52am on a saturday morning.”
“it is,” you agree, extending the plate to her. “i, uh, hope you’re not allergic to pancakes?”
“…i’m not.”
you beam.
“great!”
you’re shoving the food in her hands before she can decline and ellie finds that the ceramic is still warm.
neighbor!ellie who awkwardly holds the plate up to you as a silent thanks and shuts the door in your hopeful face.
“i gotta give it to you williams, didn’t think you’d pull within 24 hours,” jesse mutters groggily from the couch he’d helped her lug up the stairs yesterday afternoon.
“oh fuck off,” she huffs, tearing the foil from the plate to find a five-stack of fluffy pancakes with two cute little strawberry-shaped containers that has butter and syrup respectively.
“who’s it from?” jesse asks, even though he knows the answer.
“girl in 5a.”
first bite in and ellie’s eyebrows raise because wow, that’s damn good.
jesse swipes a bite despite ellie’s protests and they polish off the matching plate that she puffs a laugh at because there’s a strawberry bandit painted in the center and in shoddy lettering says, “this is a strobbery”
neighbor!ellie who surprises you by washing and returning the plate later that evening, muttering out a quick thanks before ducking back into her apartment without another word.
she leaves you blinking, staring at the space she was previously standing in a moment prior before you smile and shut the door because god ellie is so hot.
neighbor!ellie doesn’t expect it to become a routine, but more often than not, you’re knocking on her door at any given hour with snacks and she’s surprised when, a week and a half in, she’s had to do minimal grocery shopping because you’re always feeding her.
little does she know it’s because you’re looking forward to the brief moments that she’s unintentionally banging on your door to return your plates and dinnerware.
neighbor!ellie who’s a mechanic and brings your goodies to work sometimes and gets teased by the other mechanics because they think she has a girlfriend.
neighbor!ellie who after revealing she works in a garage starts opening up her front door to little reusable bags with cute notes and food puns if your schedule’s don’t line up.
neighbor!ellie whose schedule does end up frequently aligning with yours and you end up taking the same elevator down.
“morning, ellie,” you greet, smiling softly at her despite being up at the asscrack of dawn.
neighbor!ellie who yawns, takes the lunch you made for her gratefully and walks with you to the elevator.
“morning, 5a.”
neighbor!ellie who could get used to only seeing you in the fifth floor halls, however, after a few weeks, you stumble upon her in different circumstances.
you’re usually out on your balcony in the early mornings to water your plants and drink your tea or coffee, but today’s been exceptionally rough at work (you’re, surprise, a café owner) so you step out to take a deep breath late in the evening after your shift.
you definitely don’t expect to find ellie perched on a stool flicking the ash from a blunt over the railing.
“‘sup,” she hums, taking a long pull.
“hey,” you sigh.
“long day?” she humors you.
the two of you don’t really have much conversation because ellie’s always finding ways to cut interactions with you short.
and it’s not particularly because she doesn’t like you, but she’s caught the vibe you’re giving off and she doesn’t want to give you any unnecessary hope, especially after such a messy break up with the last girl.
(it’s definitely not because something about you makes her nervous).
so she doesn’t really expect you to spill, but one moment you’re debating whether or not you should divulge and the next you’re talking a mile a minute about how draining the job can be especially when employees end up being unreliable and the customers are impatient.
ellie’s gone through the entire joint and you still haven’t stopped talking and she doesn’t want to be mean, especially because you’ve been so nice to her since she’s moved in, but the high is wearing off because she’s too focused on finding an out of the one-sided conversation.
“you should come by,” you say, once you’re done babbling. “to the café, i mean. bring your friends, i’ll stay open a little later for you guys.”
that catches ellie’s attention after she’d zoned out.
“i— you don’t have to do that,” she says. “and i mean, we’re all pretty busy and—”
“no, no!” you say sweetly. “i insist! i wanna test out a few new seasonal recipes and i’d love some opinions!”
ellie’s wracking her brain, but you’re looking at her so hopefully and you look too cute with a few strands of hair falling from your updo. she really doesn’t want to give in, so she gives a lukewarm response instead.
“i’ll, uh, get back to you, i guess.”
you’re grinning.
“try to clear saturday night!” you tell her. “sometime around 9:30!”
ellie opens her mouth to give one last protest, but you’re standing from where you’d been leaning against the railing.
“it’ll be fun!” you tell her. “night, ellie!”
neighbor!ellie who really doesn’t want to go because she feels like it’ll only add fuel to the fire.
the beginning of the week rolls around and you decide that this’ll be the week you’ll finally ask ellie out.
you figure that ellie’s just really quiet, isn’t the one to really put herself out there, so you wanna take initiative.
you’re thinking of all the different recipes you could try because you really wanna wow her and her friends.
little does ellie know that you’re lowkey agonizing over saturday and it’s all you can think about: what you’ll wear, what pairings you want to present, how you’ll decorate the cafe.
meanwhile, ellie’s trying to find a way out of it and jesse’s not any help because he keeps teasing her about how she must be broken for not wanting her hot neighbor who has a glaringly obvious crush on her.
everyone on the whole floor, possibly even the whole building knows. hell, even the doorman knows (and it’s definitely not because you stop to chat with him frequently when you walk your little beagle, apple, and ellie becomes a frequent topic of conversation).
neighbor!ellie who starts avoiding you because she fears that her being receptive to your kindness is giving you the wrong idea (definitely not because you’re growing on her and you’re becoming a part of her daily routine).
neighbor!ellie who sees you twice the entire week, doesn’t answer the door when you knock, stuffs your cute little post-its about saturday somewhere in the back of her junk drawer, smokes her blunts on the roof to avoid running into on the balcony.
neighbor!ellie who spends most of her time at the garage with jesse and her coworkers in efforts to get home after you do.
you figure that maybe she is really busy and you shouldn’t have been so pushy about the tasting, but you’ve grown to really like her and you can’t give this up without officially giving it a shot.
neighbor!ellie who ducks out of her apartment when she knows you’re out on saturday and leaves her lights off, so you’ll know she isn’t home.
neighbor!ellie who spends the day with jesse and his girl and gets invited to a kickback on the otherside of town.
neighbor!ellie who’s about two joints in and a couple shots out, so she’s crossed by nine and you completely slip her mind.
you’re on the other side of town, about a block from your apartment, waiting in the cafe for ellie.
you made such a pretty spread of lavender matcha cookies and lemon muffins. used your special espresso roast to brew a delicious batch of coffee to make a few lattes.
you’d even bought flowers from next door, decorated the table and light a few candles.
it’s 9:45 and you think that she’s gonna be late, but time’s passing and the pastries are going stale, the coffee going lukewarm.
it’s 10:30 when you start losing hope.
probably 11:30 when you blow out the candles, box up the treats and throw the espresso in the cooler for some iced coffee tomorrow morning.
you should’ve seen it coming, really. she did say that her and her friends were typically busy. and she hadn’t officially confirmed it with you either so you were being rather presumptuous anyways.
you decide that maybe you’ll just drop them by her place tomorrow and ask her to lunch!
it’s about midnight when you walk up the sidewalk and see that her LEDs are on in her room. it vaguely smells like weed so you figure she’d been smoking a little.
you don’t wanna bother her so late at night so you enter your own apartment, set the box on the kitchen island before padding into your room to get ready for bed.
you should’ve seen it coming, ellie standing you up, but what you don’t see coming, or hear, for that matter, are the muffled moans through the paper thin walls.
you’d been used to hearing ellie cuss at her video games, heard her getting better at playing the guitar, bickering with jesse over who got to be who during smash bros, but this was new.
you’d never heard the voice before, pitched and whiny.
your cheeks warm because whatever ellie’s doing must be good. you can’t even find it in yourself to be relieved that ellie was interested in girls. you’d initially been scared that maybe you were reading into it all wrong.
regardless, obviously you’d read everything way way wrong because ellie’s mouth is filthy and there’s no misconstruing the fact that she’s fucking someone six ways to sunday and you can hear every gory detail.
your stomach is churning because it’s been weeks and you couldn’t even get ellie outside the fifth floor’s hallway.
it’s obvious they’re thoroughly enjoying themselves and the hurt and envy that kindles is an ugly sight to see.
you end up sleeping in the living room that night.
neighbor!ellie who chases the girl out the following morning after a nasty hangover and finally coming to terms with the fact that she’d brought someone home last night.
neighbor!ellie whose stomach drops to her ass when someone knocks on the door a few minutes later and she thinks it’s you, but it ends up being jesse.
“jesus, did 5a do that?” he asks, referring to your apartment number in regards to the fresh hickies blooming up the column of ellie’s throat.
“god no,” ellie says. “how many times do i have to tell you, that’s never happening.”
neighbor!ellie who would never tell a soul that she’d been imagining a certain someone the night prior.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t want to think of anything more than being your neighbor because she’s locked in this lease for the next two years and she’d prefer to not shit where she sleeps.
(yeah, that’s totally it).
“dude why not? she’s obviously so down bad for you,” jesse chuckles, pushing past ellie.
she huffs a breath, defensive.
“god, i don’t know how she isn’t embarrassed, it’s fuckin’ pathetic.”
oh—
you’d heard jesse’s voice, then ellie’s, and figured you could give her the pastries you worked so hard on last night.
you’d always thought that ellie was just naturally aloof, kept to herself often, but last night was the coffin and this morning was the nail.
in the stillness of your apartment, jesse and ellie’s voice carries through the thin walls.
“i mean, you could just fuck her a couple of times, get it out of your system?”
“god, look at her, there’s not a casual bone in her body.”
“you can’t run away from her forever, yknow?”
neighbor!ellie who thinks to herself that she’ll try anyways.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t have to try, because you become an enigma after that.
it’s the middle of the week and she hasn’t had to even try avoiding you once.
you haven’t knocked on her door since the week prior and it makes her brows furrow.
neighbor!ellie who starts feeling bad for standing you up, but feels infinitely worse when she goes to dump some of her trash and finds the carton of pastries you’d baked.
they have your café’s name emblazoned on the logo and she vaguely remembers you chattering about trying lavender in one of your recipes.
she sees the purple food coloring and her heart sinks because why are they in the trash? :(
realizes that she’s fucked up and that maybe she should just be completely transparent with you.
neighbor!ellie who hesitantly knocks on your door and waits patiently for you to answer.
hears shuffling on the other side, but you don’t open up.
neighbor!ellie who tries to convince herself that you’re just busy! work is stressful right now and you’re keeping to yourself.
but you two end up bumping into each other on the elevator (she’d been lurking), and you give her a curt greeting because you’re polite and you realize that ellie doesn’t owe you anything.
“apple’s got a haircut,” she observes, leaning down to pet the pup.
“yeah,” you hum.
“she looks cute,” ellie compliments.
“thanks.”
neighbor!ellie who’s not used to you icing her out, so she takes the leap.
“hey, i wanted to apologize…” she trails off. “about saturday. i shouldn’t have flaked.”
“s’okay,” you say simply, watching as the numbers painfully descend. “you were busy.”
a blanket of silence.
“i’m sure the pastries were great,” ellie tries again. “we could always—”
the elevator dings and the doors part.
“have a good day, ellie,” you say softly, tugging apple by the leash to leave the lift.
neighbor!ellie who swears she hears you sniffling on the other side of the wall later that night, but tries to convince herself that you’ve just got allergies.
neighbor!ellie who thinks of every excuse in the book to try and talk to you, but she ends up freezing because fuck, have you always been this pretty?
neighbor!ellie who buys a succulent and puts it on her balcony. she tries to catch you in the mornings when you’re watering your plants, but it seems like your schedules just don’t align anymore.
neighbor!ellie is frustrated as fuck because she’d been avoiding getting attached, but you don’t knock on her door to deliver snacks or talk her ear off anymore and it drives her absolutely nuts.
neighbor!ellie who gets teased infinitely more at work because her coworkers are now convinced that there’s ‘trouble in paradise’.
“jesus christ, you’re actually pathetic,” jesse rolls his eyes over breakfast one weekend.
“dude, she just…” ellie lets out a frustrated sigh. “i just—”
“you miss her,” he fills in.
ellie turns red.
“fuck you, i don’t—”
“it’s okay to admit it, yknow?” he says. “she’s a lot different from your exes. she’s genuinely sweet, in it because she really likes you.”
ellie swallows, lips pursing.
“you’re soft around her,” jesse observes. “you think that if you give in, she’s gonna uncover parts of you you don’t even let me or joel see.”
“fuck you—”
“for someone who likes bitches you—”
ellie groans.
neighbor!ellie who goes home and rolls a joint because this limbo is stressing her out.
and FINALLY! you’re watering your plants on your balcony when she slides the patio door open and slinks outside.
you don’t say anything to her, just continue watering.
she slumps in her folding lawn chair, kicking her feet up on the railing to feign nonchalance, but you haven’t blinked an eye at her and she’s annoyed.
“been doing alright?” she asks finally.
you freeze for the briefest of moments before glancing at her.
you’ve got bags under your eyes and your lips are pursed and ellie’s heart squeezes.
“yeah,” you answer simply. “fine.”
ellie hums.
“how’s work?”
“same old,” you say, turning your back to her to tend to the plants housed on the other side.
neighbor!ellie who doesn’t know what to say. who’s so used to trying to break conversation, not make them.
neighbor!ellie who fidgets because you’re making her nervous. you’re usually so sweet and smiley, but this side of you makes her gut churn.
neighbor!ellie who bites the bullet.
“i’m…i’m off on sunday…” she says, scratching the back of her neck. “if you wanted to— i dunno.”
your back straightens and she thinks you’re gonna bite, but you glance at the sidewalk below and shake your head.
“you don’t have to pretend, you know?” you say softly.
it’s like a punch in the chest and ellie’s scrambling.
“no! it’s—” she realizes she’s shouting. “it’s not like that, i—”
“i’m a big girl, ellie,” you tell her, that stupid little strawberry-shaped spray bottle squeezed tight in your hand. “if i was annoying, you could have just said that.”
and god she feels so fucking awful because this entire time, you’d just been trying to be nice to her. it was a harmless crush and—
“i don’t think you’re annoying,” she argues weakly. “can you…can you look at me, please?”
your head tilts up and ellie realizes that you’re trying to stop yourself from crying.
“god, i really am pathetic,” is your watery whisper.
ellie’s crossing the balcony, fully ready to climb over the railing onto your patio, but you’re quickly dashing away the tears and throwing the sliding door open.
“goodnight,” you tell her, and you’re sealing her out in the humid air.
neighbor!ellie who’s in knots because living next to someone she used to see everyday fucking sucks now that all the two of you are reduced to is straining extra hard to hear your shuffling from the other side of the walls.
neighbor!ellie who stands in front of your door sometimes, wanting to knock, but feeling like she doesn’t deserve closure with you because it’s all her fault.
neighbor!ellie who realizes that the very awkwardness and discomfort she was avoiding to begin with could’ve been avoidable had she just been up front with you.
you were sweet and you were understanding…mature. you would’ve probably taken better to honesty than ellie blowing you off and lowkey being an ass to you.
neighbor!ellie being scolded by jesse after a couple of days pass because he’s beating her ass at smash bros without even trying and it’s hurting his ego.
“are you seriously gonna keep moping over 5a?” he asks after the fourth round won.
“i’m not moping,” ellie grumbles.
“oh c’mon dude,” jesse moans in annoyance. “you and 5a have this dad with four kids who doesn’t want a puppy but ends up loving the shit out of the—”
“i do not love her,” ellie barks.
jesse smirks.
“that’s all you took from that, ellie, seriously?” jesse scoffs.
“i mean, it’s not like there’s much that can be done, anyways,” ellie grunts, tossing the video game controller onto the coffee table’s surface. “she fuckin’ hates me and i don’t blame her.”
“5a does not hate you,” jesse sighs. “her feelings are just hurt, but you can fix it.”
“and how’s that?” ellie crosses her arms over her chest.
“you’re a smart girl, you’ll figure it out.” jesse grabs the discarded controller from the coffee table and shoves it into ellie’s chest. “now put your all into this next round, i’m still gonna beat your ass.”
neighbor!ellie who’s never felt more nervous in her life.
who’s standing a block away from the café you own with a little gift bag and a bouquet of flowers.
neighbor!ellie who’s used to effortless relationships and casual situationships.
neighbor!ellie who’s scared shitless that she’s making the wrong decision giving in like this, but maybe jesse’s right and you’re just what she needs.
neighbor!ellie whose hands shake the entire walk up to the café.
she sees you with your back turned towards the door, probably doing closing inventory or something of the like with the way you scribble quickly against a clipboard.
you look so in your element with your apron tied tight around the narrow of your waist and perhaps now’s not the appropriate time, but your work pants look exceptionally great spread over the—
“i’m sorry, but we’re closed for the evening,” your voice sounds when ellie opens the front door and the chime tinkles against the glass.
“i’ll make it quick,” ellie says quietly, paper wrap around the flowers crinkling as she shifts on her feet.
you whirl around with wide eyes, almost dropping the clipboard when you find your neighbor standing in the middle of your café.
she looks so good in a fitted brown button up rolled to the elbow to reveal the whorls of ink decorating her forearms and skinny jeans that are way too good at highlighting the muscles of her thighs.
“ellie, what are you doing here?” you ask, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
“i was, er, in the area?”
one of your eyebrows raise.
“well, is there something i can help you with?” you ask, eyeing the flowers and the giftbag in what ellie can only read as disdain.
it’s like the day you two first met all over again but the roles are reversed. her lips gape once, twice, then three times as she tries to find the words. but ellie’s never been good at talking about how she feels, at being vulnerable.
“i have to close up,” you prod, tone tired. “and whoever you’re visiting after this is probably waiting.”
the words after are a silent insinuation.
god knows i did.
you’re turning on your heel and ellie knows she’s losing you.
“i like you.” she says suddenly.
you freeze, fist tightening mercilessly around your clipboard.
“that’s not funny,” you say stonily. “you don’t have to make an ass out of me for having feelings for you, ellie. i get it, it’s hilarious that your dorky neighbor has a crush on you, but you don’t have to drag it. i’m—”
neighbor!ellie who’s always thought that you talk a tad too much and sets the gifts on the nearest table before crossing the distance between the two of you.
she’s towering over you and you’re looking up at her with furrowed brows as she pries the clipboard from your fingers and kisses you without another word.
“wait, wait,” you whisper, pulling away from her momentarily.
her lips chase yours, one hand splaying over the small of your back as the other cradles your chin.
“i’m sorry,” she says quietly. “i didn’t—”
“i don’t understand,” you admit. “you…you and your friend were—”
ellie shakes her head vehemently.
“i was being stupid,” she says quickly. “it’s—” she sighs. “it’s a long story.”
“but the night of the tasting,” you start. “you brought someone home…i heard you.”
ellie closes her eyes in defeat, rolls her lips as she presses her forehead against yours.
“it was a mistake, you have to believe me,” she pleads softly. “i was drunk out of my mind and high as hell and—”
she stops talking when she sees the expression on your face, notices the way your fingers hover.
“you have every right not to entertain this,” ellie swallows. “and i know i’ve been awful to you, but i…i really like you 5a.”
your head tilts down and ellie’s leaning forward in an effort to keep the eye contact.
“i’m not good at stuff like this,” she confesses. “obviously.”
you breathe out an involuntary laugh.
“but you’re different, really different,” ellie says. “and you make me feel so fuckin’ weird—”
you flinch.
“a good weird!” she assuages. “it’s good. and i really wanna try things with you if you’ll let me.”
you look hesitant, but ellie’s hopeful and you’ve always been a sucker for green eyes.
18+ BONUS
neighbor!ellie really wanted to take things slow with you after officially winning you over, but she can’t really help herself.
she takes you out a week after your heart-to-heart in your café, a nice restaurant you’d chattered about during your elevator rides to the lobby, and she’d been so close to making it through dinner and keeping it appropriate, but the dessert the two of you ordered had strawberries.
needless to say, when you’d taken a bite into the candied fruit and the juice curved down your jaw and slithered between your cleavage, ellie threw a wad of bills onto the table top and dragged you out of the restaurant.
didn’t make it far, ended up at the edge of the parking lot in the back seat of her car with two of her fingers knuckles deep in your heat while she swallowed your moans whole.
neighbor!ellie who takes you to hers after you cum twice and she tastes you for the first time.
“fuck, angel,” she whispers against your clit. “pussy’s too good.”
the sight is a devastating one, your skirt bunched around your waist and your top discarded somewhere on her bedroom floor.
one of your hands bunches her sheets in your fist, the other threaded through her brown hair as she eats you out like she’s absolutely starved.
“that’s it, princess,” she eggs you on, stuffing her fingers and curling against the walls of your spongy cunt. her tongue is sloppy against your little bud and your dulcet moans are buttery soft, absolute music to her ears.
that night seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back because she can’t get enough of you.
especially not when you wear that red and white gingham sundress you’d worn the second time the two of you met.
neighbor!ellie who spends so much time in your apartment now, likes to especially when you’re baking because you wear that stupidly tiny dress in your stupidly tiny kitchen and it takes every ounce of self control to keep her kisses on your exposed shoulders appropriate.
you start kneading the dough and she can’t keep her hands to herself, hooking her jaw into the crook of your neck as her fingers dance under the hem of your dress and ghosts the seam of your thighs.
“y’look so pretty,” ellie hums, tongue darting to lave at the juncture of your jaw and your neck.
“wait, ah!” fingertips trace over your mound and a semi-giddy, semi-disbelieving laugh rumbles from ellie’s chest when she finds you aren’t wearing any panties.
“you’re a dirty girl, angel,” she bites, one arm securing around your waist, the other toying with the slick coating your inner thighs. “what happened to getting work done?”
all you manage is a breathy cry when ellie skips the formalities and taps your clit roughly.
“el—ellie!” you whimper, one of your flour dusted hands wrapping around her wrist as your back arches and your ass presses into her hips.
your body stutters when you feel something nestle between the pert cheeks of your ass.
you throw a surprised look over your shoulder and ellie’s already grinning lazily at you as she continues kissing all over you.
“surprise,” she whispers.
neighbor!ellie who’s so gone. who still constantly gets teased by jesse and her coworkers. who wasn’t willing to admit it at first, but wants absolutely everything to do with you.
neng © 2023
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie tlou
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the boy is mine | a writing exercise
excuse me, can i please talk to you for a minute?
do you know somebody named...y-you know his name.
oh yeah, definitely, i know his name.
well, i just want to let you know that he's mine.
no, no, he's mine.
hi, this is carol and i wanted to create a fun blurb writing exercise a la @superblysubpar and @chechelia considering the current state of the eddie munson x reader fandom. i, personally, can barely stand the seemingly never ending infighting between writers and groups on here. whether it be writing style or characterization, it seems everyone sort of has a problem with everyone. (not me tho, i truly am vibing). in the words of monica and brandy 'you need to give it up, had about enough'.
-- so instead of leaving, i wanted to try something fun, fresh, and cute to bring us together.
we all have our own eddie munson head cannons that we hold near and dear to our hearts. but i think that's part of what's fun about fandom, there's a little something for everyone. so this exercise is a way for us to all be on the same playing field -- same prompt/dialogues we have to use. only written how your personally HC eddie, our og guy (no au versions pls). i loved how this manifested on cece's old blog because it was so fun to see what people came up with.
below is the dialogue and prompt as well as the best way to participate. yes, if you are a steve girl you can participate lol. if you are someone who has me blocked and/or vice versa and would like to participate, please send your link to a friend so i can add it in an upcoming masterlist.
the scene:
a romantic night in at the trailer.
props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook.
dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order):
- "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?"
- "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true."
- "and you like that?"
- "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem."
these don't have to be sexy. they don't have to lead to anything. it's just a romantic night in -- and it can end in anything. angst, fluff, smut, alien invasion. who cares! i just wanna see how you'd write in your world with YOUR eddie. so we can see all of our eddies!
to participate, please write a blurb or ficlet titled 'the boy is mine (____'s edition)' and tag me so that i can add you to the upcoming masterlist. share each other's ficlets. enjoy how they differ and how they are the same. what do we all think is true? what do we differ on? i think this could be really cool.
here's a list of people i'm tagging from different 'x reader' groups to spread the word -- but everyone feel free to do it, please! share with your friends, encourage your friends to do it too:
@loveshotzz @chechelia @abibliophobiaa @aphrogeneias @jo-harrington @bewilderedbunny @impmunson @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @rebelfell @crappymixtape @lesservillain @courtingchaos @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @bimbobaggins69 @blueywrites @lonelysatellites @wroteclassicaly @wheels-of-despair @rip-quizilla @upsidedownwithsteve @powderblueblood
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson smut#eddie munson angst#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfiction
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cece’s note repost from my other account pt. two ‧ pairing xu minghao x reader ‧ genre user ceebit smut pt two … ‧ wc pls don’t ask me questions i can’t answer.
“all you have to do… is admit that i was right.”
he’s been edging you for hours. menacingly so, deliberately giving into to your whines and pleads only to still his fingers when your poor cunt squeezed around him in tandem with the erratic heartbeat in your chest. he tuts condescendingly when your frustration turns vocal, heels digging into the mattress in anger.
“fuck you,” you spit instead, then muffle a shriek when he taps your clit in a reprimanding way. “you’re terrible, you’re—you’re—fuck!”
minghao’s expression remains neutral as his thumb toys with your clit again, his free hand hot to the touch as he hold your hips down. there’s a noticeable puddle beneath you, slick slipping between his fingers, and he sighs at the mess.
“dirty girl,” he murmurs, and the faintest smile tugs at his lips when you begin to tremble. your thighs tense, eyes squeezed shut, and his gaze is drawn to the way your chest moved with each shuddering exhale. “all you have to do is say the words. i promised you an orgasm, didn’t i?”
he was evil. you had no idea who had replaced your loving boyfriend with the menace in front of you, and you weren’t keen on testing the waters anymore. not when your pride had given out to the pleasure turning all your arguments into mush.
“okay—you were right! you’re right, please, please,” your hand grips his arm as your hips begin to buck into his hand, head tossed back in pure ecstasy. “so close, need it, please—”
he lets you get off using his fingers, content on letting you fall apart on your own, and hisses gently when you clench around his fingers. you always looked so pretty under him, eyes brimmed with tears yet spiked full of adoration—all for him.
but…
you choke on a sudden inhale as your orgasm is ripped away from your greedy hands, crying out in outrage as you struggle to continue the pleasure that was rapidly declining. your chest rises and falls with the realization of betrayal, and you can’t help the tears that fall and soak the pillows beneath your head.
minghao’s faux concern still does terrible things to your heart though, breath hitching in your throat as his voice reaches your ears. “i know, love. wasn’t very nice of me, hm?”
“terrible,” you remind him between shaky breaths, and your eyes fall shut as he slowly works you open again. you can hear the smile in his voice nonetheless.
“i know.”
previous work : untitled jacob bae blurb
⭑ complete masterlist
⭑ svt masterlist
taglist : @treasure-1117 @jeongintwt @baldi-2 @yyiebbg @cosmingki @smoooore @odetoyeonjun @hybe02z @yagetintoit @ddaengpotae @humankimbap @peachy-yabbay @angelwonie @kighkey-fangirling @jwnghyuns @yvnjin-s
#shua’s archive#k labels#kvanity#xu minghao#minghao x reader#svt smut#minghao smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen x you#svt#seventeen x y/n#svt x reader#svt x you#svt x y/n
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WITH FIREWORKS! STEVE
synopsis : after a date at the carnival, steve gives you your first kiss! (prompt: “was that your first kiss?”)
word count : 1.6k
author’s note : repost from my old blog! i fixed her up a little bit, endured changing past to present tense just for you so….
“Those games were totally rigged,” Steve huffs as he prods at the small teddy bear clutched in his hands.
You’re situated on the hood of his car, smiley lips tinged blue thanks to the half-eaten cone of cotton candy in your hands. Steve stands in between your legs with a pout as his free hand rests beside your thigh, finger itching to graze your skin as it taps the metal of his car. The summer sun has just dipped below the horizon, but his face is illuminated by the multicolored lights of the fair behind you. Even with a sullen attitude, he just looks so pretty.
It was only your third official date — excluding the weekly, hour-long visits to Family Video, which Robin made sure to tease him for — and Steve figured it was time to rattle his feathers, so to speak. He wanted to impress you by showing off his athleticism, and carnival games provided an exemplary opportunity to do just that.
He envisioned your arms full and occupied by the array of giant prizes he won for you. You’d watch with an endearing grin on your face every time he beat a game. The night would end with your arms thrown around his shoulders and the perfect kiss that had you both swooning.
With fireworks in the background, obviously.
But luck had strayed far away from Steve Harrington’s side. Far, far away.
“Oh, they were, were they?”
“Definitely. ‘You can only throw it with an underhand,’” Steve mocks the game attendant with a husky voice — a terrible impression, really, but he knew it’d make you laugh. “That’s a made up rule. For sure. I’ve never heard that rule before. Ridiculous.”
The boy sighs defeatedly, letting you take the bear from his hand before running his fingers through his, now disheveled hair. The brown locks had endured the torment throughout the night as he increasingly became more and more stressed. And he didn’t want to admit he was embarrassed, it felt entirely dramatic and silly. But he was, and the way he avoided your gaze while his teeth worried his bottom lip was enough of a tell.
He laughs meekly at himself and squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, I was trying so hard to win one of those gigantic bears — too hard.”
You hum as your eyes scan over the stuffie. It was no bigger than the length of your hand. Its body was stiff and straight and a tuft of cotton spilled out from under its right arm due to a couple frayed stitches. The ribbon around its neck was barely being held together with a glob of hot glue.
“I like this one, it’s cute.” At his scoff, you double down, “I’m serious! It’s got a lot of charm to it. It’s perfect.”
You move your attention from the bear to Steve only to find that he’s already looking at you. His gaze is incredibly soft, smile lines decorating the corners of his lips as his tongue is coyly tucked into his cheek. His eyes are brimming with love, you think you might burst the longer they’re on you. He finally lets himself graze the skin of your thighs as a subtle thank you. The attention was all-consuming, it made it hard for you to focus. It was hard to do much of anything really, with him looking at you like that.
Quickly, you clear your throat and look up into the sky in abrupt thought. “I think I’m going to name him…Eve.”
“Eve? Eve the bear?”
“Mmhmm,” you affirm with the wave of the cotton candy, “Eve ‘The Bear’ Bearington.”
A huff resembling a short laugh leaves his mouth as he drops his chin down. Lowly, he mutters, “You’re unbelievable,” before looking up at you again with a doting grin. He moves to shake the bear’s hand gingerly, holding it between his thumb and his index, and bowing his head.
“Nice to meet you, Eve. You’re looking a little rough, bud. Bad hangover?”
You scoff and protectively pull Eve into your chest as if it were a child. The chuckle that reverberates through his chest encourages your heart to dither as heat rises to the tips of your ears. “That was very rude, Harrington,” you reply, feigning shock while trying to fight off the smile creeping onto your lips. It doesn’t work.
“What? No, Eve didn’t think it was rude. I’ve been there before, I’m sure he appreciates my empathy,” Steve argues, eyes momentarily flitting to the cotton candy that sat untouched in your hand for the past few minutes. As he nonchalantly stretches his hand out to pull a piece of the sweet, you move your arm out of his reach.
He glares at you with a tilt of his head. You raise your eyebrows to challenge him.
“Bullies don’t get sweets.”
A small gasp emanates from him before his lips are twisting into an impish lopsided smile. He tsk’s and takes a small step back. “Well, that’s too bad…because it just tastes so,” he looks away innocently, “…much,” he pauses.
”…Better!” He lunges forward earning a yelp from you as one arm wraps around your waist while the other moves to grab at the cotton candy. His fingers curl into your sides, eliciting a fit of laughs and giggles to fall clumsily from your sugar-coated tongue which makes it that much harder to fight against him.
Albeit, you don’t cease, pushing against his shoulder and still trying to stretch your arm as far away from him as possible. But it was no use as he slightly lifted you up off the car for just a moment to pull you flush against him. Your legs reflexively wrap around his hips and once you drop the bear, your unoccupied hand grips a handful of his polo for stability. The action had taken you by surprise, being too distracted to push him away when he ducks his head down to take a bite of the candy floss.
“Yup, just as I thought. Ten times better,” he preaches, letting it dissolve on his tongue to savor the flavor.
You’re sure you look a mess. Your eyes must be glazed over complimented by your lips still parted in shock. Your chest is rising and falling in a quick, inconsistent pattern as you try to collect yourself. Again, Steve has thrown your train of thought completely off course.
“You suck,” you manage to say. It was a lame attempt at an insult. But the words were practically dripping with adoration, all he could do was smile.
“Yeah?”
You nod meekly.
You’re certain he can feel your heart thumping wildly against your ribcage, certain that even through the background carnival noises and both your uneven breaths, he could hear it, as well.
And despite being so sure of your dumbfounded expression, Steve thought you looked so beautiful like this. In disarray, your sweater fell off your shoulders to hang loosely on your arms and your hand is holding his shirt so tightly like it was a lifeline. His eyes dart to your lips to trace over your cupid’s bow before glancing back up to find your eyes.
And you thought he looked just as pretty. His nearness was entirely disorienting. You could smell the saccharine hint of stolen cotton candy mingled with his ever-prized Calvin Klein cologne. His hair had fallen handsomely over his forehead. The moles and freckles scattered across his face are more fascinating than ever as you count them until you reach his lips. How soft and inviting they looked.
You’re so completely enamored, you don’t even register when he leans in, brushing his lips against your own in a feather-light kiss. Your breath hitches in your throat and before you can even bring yourself back down to earth, he begins to pull away.
“Sorry, I thought…”
He moves to step away from you, but your legs tighten around him to keep him in place as your fingers wrap around the wrist on your waist.
“No! I’m sorry, I…it was nice, it’s just I haven’t…I mean, I’ve never…” You swallow down a lump in your throat as you feel your eyes start to water.
The second you glance up to gauge his reaction, you regret it. You watch his eyes widen in realization and feel his grip on your waist go slack. Hiding your face behind clammy hands, you groan and drop your head to his shoulder. Your entire body felt like it was on fire and you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole.
“Was that your first kiss?”
You nod timidly, dragging your hands down to your lap to wring out your fingers, your gaze immediately following. And Steve is not malicious, he’d never laugh at you, but you feel just a little mortified that you froze up.
“Hey,” he cooed, delicately cupping your cheek and lifting your head. “It’s okay. Don’t be embarrassed.” The words are hushed and soft, a sweet reassurance that causes your insides to melt.
“Was it…was it good?” he asks.
The question makes you giggle, “I dunno, I didn’t really get a chance to return the favor.”
He nods, the beginnings of a wide smile slowly making its way onto his blushing face. “Right…do you maybe, wanna try again?”
You mirror his expression before you’re the one leaning in this time, a kiss that he reciprocates feverishly. His lips slot against your own as his arm tightens around your waist once more. Your fingers dip into hair and he hums against you at the feeling before pulling away.
You giggle at the dazed look on his face and his kiss-bitten lips.
“How was that one?” he asks, eyes shamelessly journeying over your face.
“It was perfect.”
#the return of eve ‘the bear’ bearington!!#ᝰ cece’s scribbles#steve harrington#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve stranger things#stranger things blurb#stranger things fluff#stranger things fic#stranger things#joe keery
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had another jump then fall thought
after adam and cece start dating (and maybe move in together???) i could totally see paloma walking into their room at night holding her fave stuffie with tears in her poor little eyes saying she cant sleep (especially after the court thing) she would just be so scared that ceces gonna disappear or shes gonna get taken away from them again poor girl is so little with so much anxiety
oh my god YES. anxiety is very much a part of paloma’s life after the whole court hearing. she never wants to be away from adam ever again and even the mere thought gives the poor girl nightmares 🥹🥹
after the hearing, even adam gets anxious about the whole thing and the only person who’s able to calm him is sweet cece (despite her own fears of paloma’s bio mom taking her again)
─ warnings sosososo much anxiety, exhaustion but fluffy (post pining) moments with cece/adam. also this was written on my phone so there may be errors LOL
─ wc 635
the clock on the bedside table flashed 3:12 am and both cece and adam were fast asleep in their warm bed. cece had a 10 am lecture while adam had practice the next morning, they both wanted to catch up on their sleep.
the door creaked open, revealing a very pouty and tired looking paloma. she began crying softly and cece began to stir before waking up and seeing the toddler at the door, barely being able to stand.
“dove?” cece’s hoarse and tired voice rang out in the room as she got out of bed and grabbed the little girl into her arms.
at cece’s now empty spot on the bed, adam stirred and eventually woke and let out a sigh. this had been a constant struggle with paloma since the hearing but he couldn’t hold it against her, she didn’t even know what was going on. he would be lying if he said he wasn’t exhausted, though.
adam rubbed his eyes and sat up, running a hand through his tousled hair as he watched cece comfort paloma. he knew that the past few weeks had been tough on all of them, especially on paloma. ever since the hearing, she had been more clingy than usual, sensing the tension in the air.
"another bad dream?" adam asked, his voice still thick with sleep as he glanced over at cece and paloma.
cece nodded, her own exhaustion evident in the lines of her face. "yeah. they're getting more frequent, adam. i'm getting a little worried."
adam sighed as he stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "she's fine. it's normal for her to wanna sleep with us, she's a baby."
"adam," cece's voice was a little agitated as adam once again tried to ignore paloma's obvious separation anxiety. she knew he couldn't help it though.
adam felt a pang of guilt at cece's tone. he knew she was right, but he also struggled with seeing paloma upset and he didn't know how he'd cope if he found out there was something wrong. he ran a hand through his hair again, feeling the weight of exhaustion settling on his shoulders.
"i know, cee," adam said softly, reaching out to gently stroke paloma's hair as she nestled against cece. "i just hate seeing her like this, you know? It breaks my heart. and it's my fault, too-"
"don't you dare say that, adam." cece's voice was firm, cutting off adam's self-blame before it could fully take root. she reached out to grasp Adam's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "it isn't anyone's fault except her mother's, for making us all endure the shit she gave us."
adam's shoulders sagged with relief at Cece's words, grateful for her understanding. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to paloma's forehead before resting his forehead against cece's.
"i know," Adam murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "i just... i want to do everything i can to protect her, you know? and when i see her like this... it's hard not to feel like i'm failing."
cece reached up, cupping Adam's cheek in her hand and guiding his gaze to meet hers. "you're not failing, adam. you're the best dad ever and paloma knows that. you can't control everything that happens no matter how hard you try, all you can do is just help her cope."
adam's eyes softened at her words, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. he leaned into her touch, savoring the warmth of her hand against his cheek.
"thank you, cece," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "i needed to hear that."
cece smiled softly, her eyes filled with warmth as she pressed a tender kiss to adam's lips. "of course, adam. we are in this together, remember? we'll figure it out."
#jump then fall au#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl fic#hockey#nhl fanfiction#nhl oneshot#hockey fic#adam fantilli#adam fantilli smut#adam fantilli blurb#adam fantilli x reader#adam fantilli imagine#adam fantilli x you#cece x adam 🩵#princess paloma 👑
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I may have a potential mini surprise before the year ends👀
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silk duvets ─── send me a scenario / blurb / au + a character and i'll make a moodboard out of it!
tasm!peter, whose hair has grown way too long for his liking, spontaneously asks reader to cut it for him in the middle of the night. it’s such a bad idea, both delusional from lack of sleep, the lighting in your apartment is dingy, and the scissors are definitely too dull to get the job done well
this adorable cece !!!! 😵💫😵💫
— cutting tasm!peter's hair, late at night.
🌃 dim lighting. the loud nyc nights. messing around with styles. polaroid pictures for memories. cuddling. cheek kisses. listening to music in the background. star-shaped fairy lights. looking at references while being half asleep. sharing blankets. falling asleep on eachother.
"peter the other side is still uneven." — "'s okay, we can continue it the next morning. after we sleep, bubs."
#b's 700 celebration !#tasm!peter moodboard#tasm!peter imagine#tasm#tasm moodboard#tasm imagines#tasm imagine#tasm x reader#tasm blurb#tasm headcanons#tasm peter#tasm peter x reader#tasm peter imagines#tasm peter moodboard#tasm peter blurb#tasm peter headcanon#peter parker imagines#peter parker imagine#peter parker moodboard#peter parker headcanon#peter parker blurb#peter parker x reader#tasm peter parker#peter parker#the amazing spider man#the amazing spiderman#the amazing spiderman moodboard#tasm spiderman#spiderman moodboard#spiderman
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How did I end up with 4k of pure filth? Welp, just gotta edit but colors part two in like 30ish minutes?
#this spiraled out of control quick#what’s a blurb? never heard of her#older!best friends dad Steve has me in a choke hold and I blame cece
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