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darksturnz · 1 month ago

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SNOWED IN

CONTENTS:・smut-heavy plot ・shypervy!matt ・pillow riding・unprotected p in v ・oral (m! & afab! receiving)・creampie ・fluff :3 + more WC: 5.1k

The blizzard outside was relentless, the kind that swallowed the streets of Boston in a suffocating white blanket and made the idea of stepping outdoors laughable. The windows of the apartment were fogged over, and every now and then the wind would whistle against the panes like it was testing the limits of the glass. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that trailed onto the floor, flipping through the channels with little interest.

Behind you, Matt stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug of coffee in his hands. He had that slightly disheveled look about him, like he’d rolled out of bed without fully shaking off sleep—messy hair, hoodie wrinkled, socks mismatched. You didn’t mind. Matt was always a little like that: casual, a bit quiet, but solid and easy to be around.

“You know, I feel like we should be doing something,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Something like what?” he asked, his voice soft but curious.

“I don’t know. It’s a snow day! Aren’t snow days supposed to be fun?”

He took a sip of his coffee, giving you a small, lopsided smile. “They’re also for staying inside and not freezing to death. I think we’ve got that part down.”

You sighed dramatically, tossing the remote onto the coffee table. “Come on, Matt. Live a little. We’ve been roommates for, what, three years? This is like our… fifth snowstorm together. We’ve gotta mix it up.”

“Mix it up how?”

You sat up, turning to face him with a spark of determination. “We could have a movie marathon. Or play a game. Or—wait, hear me out—we could build a pillow fort.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A pillow fort? Aren’t we a little old for that?”

“Never.” You grinned at him, sliding off the couch and padding over to where he stood. “Don’t pretend like you don’t want to. You’re just scared you’ll get out-engineered by me.”

Matt scoffed lightly, but his ears turned pink, something you didn’t notice as you rummaged through the hallway closet for extra pillows.

“Okay,” he said finally, setting his mug down and rubbing the back of his neck. “But don’t blame me if this thing collapses.”

“It won’t collapse if you do what I say.” You shot him a playful wink, which only made the flush on his cheeks deepen.

The two of you got to work, pulling cushions off the couch and draping blankets over chairs to form the roof. Matt quietly followed your lead, handing you supplies and occasionally mumbling things like, “That’s not gonna hold,” or “You’re gonna need more support there.”

At one point, you stood on the coffee table to adjust a blanket, and Matt reached out instinctively, his hand hovering near your back like he was afraid you might fall.

“Careful,” he said softly.

“I’m fine, Dad,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at him.

His hand dropped, and he turned away, pretending to busy himself with straightening a pillow, though the faint redness creeping up his neck gave him away.

When the fort was finally done, it was a masterpiece—cozy and lopsided, with string lights you’d fished out of a storage box giving it a warm glow. You crawled inside first, sitting cross-legged on the floor and patting the space next to you.

“Come on, it’s not a real fort until you’re inside and it manages to stay up.”

He hesitated for a second, then ducked under the blanket and sat beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours in the cramped space.

“See? Isn’t this better than nothing?” you said, looking over at him with a smile.

“Yeah,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “It is.”

You handed him a bag of popcorn, your fingers grazing his, and he froze for just a moment before quickly taking it, his eyes fixed firmly on the string lights above.

The two of you spent the evening talking and laughing, the snowstorm forgotten as you swapped stories and debated over which childhood cartoons were the best. Every so often, Matt would glance at you out of the corner of his eye, his heart thudding a little harder when you laughed or smiled at him like he was the only person in the room, which he was but that’s besides the point.

Eventually, though, exhaustion started to creep in. You yawned, stretching your arms overhead.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed,” you said, crawling out of the fort and standing up.

Matt followed you out, watching as you gathered the blanket you’d been using earlier. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice soft.

“Goodnight, Matt,” you replied, giving him a little wave as you disappeared down the hall.

He lingered in the living room for a moment, staring at the now-empty fort before heading towards the bathroom for a shower.

As you settled into bed, wrapping yourself in the familiar weight of your blankets, you heard it: the faint hum of the shower turning on down the hall. The steady rush of water filtered through the quiet apartment, a soothing yet distant sound that seemed to amplify the stillness of your room. You lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, letting the sound wash over you like white noise.

But the second your head hit the pillow, the restlessness crept in.

You sighed softly, rolling onto your side, then your back again, punching the pillow as if fluffing it would trick your body into cooperating. But it was no use. Insomnia—your unwelcome, all-too-familiar companion—was already settling in. This was how it went most nights, the routine so predictable it almost felt like a cruel joke.

The weight of exhaustion was there, heavy in your limbs, but your mind refused to follow. Thoughts you couldn’t quite name flitted just out of reach, intangible but persistent, keeping you from slipping into the oblivion of sleep.

Another sigh escaped your lips, quieter this time, like you were trying not to disturb the silence. You could still hear the water running, muffled now, but constant. Matt was probably rinsing away the day, oblivious to the small storm brewing in your head. You wondered absently how he always seemed so calm, so unbothered by the little things that left you tangled up and wide awake.

You rolled onto your side again, clutching the blankets a little tighter, hoping the rhythmic hum of the shower might somehow lull you to sleep. But it wasn’t working. If anything, it was having the opposite effect. Your mind wandered, unbidden, to the thought of Matt in the shower—steam rising, water trailing down his skin—and suddenly, your cheeks burned with a heat that had nothing to do with the blankets wrapped around you.

It was no secret, at least not to yourself, that Matt was incredibly attractive. Add to that his quiet sweetness, his unshakable respectfulness, and it was a combination that left your head spinning more often than you’d care to admit. It wasn’t just you, either—your mutual friends seemed baffled that the two of you had managed to live together for years without any “accidents” during late nights out. But then again, Matt was Matt. Respectful to a fault, impossibly shy, and so unaware of the effect he had on people—especially you—that it almost made you laugh.

Almost. Because right now, the thought of him was doing anything but making you laugh.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that might somehow chase away the thoughts swarming your mind. But it didn’t help. The image of Matt—droplets clinging to his collarbone—lingered stubbornly. You shifted restlessly, the blankets suddenly too warm, your heart beating just a little faster than it should.

This is ridiculous, you told yourself, burying your face into the pillow. He’s your roommate. He probably doesn’t even think about you like that.

And yet, some part of you couldn’t ignore the moments. The tiny, fleeting glances. The way he always seemed a little nervous when he stood too close. The way his ears turned red whenever you teased him, like he wasn’t used to being the center of someone’s attention.

You groaned softly, flipping onto your back and staring at the ceiling as if it held some sort of answer. The truth was, you’d been toeing the line with Matt for so long that even thinking about crossing it felt dangerous. But tonight, with the sound of the shower still running and your mind painting pictures you shouldn’t be entertaining, the line felt thinner than ever.

The water finally shut off, breaking through your thoughts. You held your breath, listening as the faint rustle of movement came from the bathroom—Matt grabbing a towel, maybe shaking out his hair. Your cheeks burned again at how vivid your imagination had become, and you pulled the blanket over your face like it might shield you from your own embarrassment.

Moments later, you heard his footsteps padding softly down the hallway. He paused outside your door, long enough that you wondered if he might knock. But instead, he moved on, his door creaking open before clicking softly shut.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, the apartment quiet once more. But now, sleep felt even further away, your heart racing with the knowledge that Matt was just down the hall, freshly showered and unaware of the effect he had on you.

Get a grip, you scolded yourself, rolling over for what felt like the hundredth time. But as you closed your eyes, his face was still there, vivid and unshakable, lingering in the quiet of the night.

Your body betrayed you completely, heat spreading across your skin as the thoughts grew harder to push away. Your heart thudded loudly in your chest, the rhythm almost deafening in the stillness of your room. It wasn’t just your cheeks burning anymore—your entire body felt warmer, the blankets suddenly suffocating as you kicked them off in frustration.

Your breathing quickened, shallow and uneven, as if even the thought of him—his damp hair, the curve of his jaw, the way he’d probably look utterly at ease in the privacy of the bathroom—was too much to process. You pressed your thighs together instinctively, trying to quell the restless energy pooling in your stomach, but it only seemed to make it worse.

Your hands clenched at the sheets, gripping them tightly as you stared up at the ceiling, willing yourself to think about anything else. But it was impossible. Every time you tried to distract yourself, your mind circled back to him, to the sound of the shower and the way you imagined droplets clinging to his skin, how he’d towel his hair dry in that effortless, boyish way of his.

Another frustrated sigh escaped your lips, and you turned onto your stomach, pressing your face into the pillow. Your body refused to settle, every nerve ending feeling far too aware, far too alive. You hated how easily he got to you, how the mere idea of him could make your body react like this, even when you knew it was pointless to dwell on it.

Still, the thoughts lingered, stubborn and insistent, leaving you flushed and restless in the dark. You lay there for a moment longer, the ache between your legs growing stronger with each passing minute. The image of Matt fresh from the shower was seared into your mind. His scent, cedar wood and vanilla, seemed to linger in the air, taunting you with its closeness.

Unable to bear the torment any longer, you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to make a sound. Your heart raced as you tiptoed towards your closet, retrieving your old pillow - one you'd secretly come to associate with these forbidden fantasies.

Returning to your bed, you positioned the pillow just so, imagining it was Matt beneath you. Slowly, you straddled it, biting your lip to stifle a moan as you began to grind against the soft surface.

Your breath came in ragged gasps as you rode the pillow with increasing fervor, lost in the fantasy of Matt's strong hands gripping your hips, guiding your movements. In your mind's eye, his piercing blue gaze locked with yours, filled with equal parts desire and restraint.

"Fuck," you whispered, the word escaping through clenched teeth as the pressure built within you. The fabric of your thin cotton panties grew damp, adding to the delicious friction against your most sensitive places.

Meanwhile, just outside your bedroom door, Matt stood frozen, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been about to knock on your door, to check if you needed anything before he seriously drifted off to sleep, your insomnia was always something he tried to find little tips and tricks on google to help you with it. But then he heard it - a soft, needy whimper that sent shivers down his spine.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he leaned closer to the door, straining to hear more. And then he heard it again, unmistakable this time: "Matt." Your voice, breathy and laden with desire, calling out his name.

Unable to resist, he slowly turned the knob, cracking open the door just enough to peer inside. The sight that greeted him nearly brought him to his knees. There you were, riding a pillow with wild abandon, your face contorted in pleasure as you chased your release.

Matt's mouth went dry as he watched you, transfixed by the erotic display before him. His cock twitched in his sweatpants, already half-hard from the tantalizing sounds spilling from your lips. He knew he should look away, give you privacy, but he couldn't tear his gaze from the mesmerizing sight of your hips undulating against the pillow.

Unconsciously, one hand drifted to his crotch, palming himself through the thin fabric. A low groan escaped him as he imagined it was his body you were grinding against, his name you were moaning so sweetly. Lost in the fantasy, he began to stroke himself in earnest, his breathing growing heavier with each pass of his hand.

As you continued to ride the pillow, lost in your own world of pleasure, Matt watched with bated breath. His hand moved faster over his now fully erect cock, the wet sounds of your arousal mingling obscenely with his own harsh pants. Sweat beaded on his brow as he struggled to maintain his silence, desperate not to alert you to his presence.

As your climax approached, your movements became more frantic, more urgent. Your fingers dug into the pillow, anchoring yourself as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you. "Matt!" you cried out, his name a prayer on your lips as you shattered completely.

At the same moment, Matt felt his own orgasm building, coiling tighter and tighter in his gut. With a final, strangled groan, he spilled into his hand, his vision going white as intense pleasure consumed him. For a long moment, he remained rooted to the spot, chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Then reality came crashing back in. What the hell had he done? Guilt and shame washed over him as he realized the depths of his betrayal. You trusted him, and here he was, spying on you in such an intimate moment, using you for his own twisted gratification.

As the last tremors of your climax faded, you slowly opened your eyes, feeling deliciously spent and satisfied. It was only then that you noticed the faint crack of light seeping in from the slightly ajar bedroom door, illuminating the shadowy figure standing just beyond the threshold.

Your gaze snapped up, locking with Matt's wide, guilty eyes. His lips were parted, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he had just run a marathon. And there, plain as day, was the unmistakable wet patch darkening the front of his sweatpants, the outline of his still-prominent erection clearly visible.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both stunned into silence by the weight of the revelation. Then, as if in slow motion, Matt's hands emerged from his waistband, his face twisting with a mixture of shame and residual lust. "I..."

"I'm sorry," Matt managed to choke out, his voice rough with emotion. "I didn't mean to... I shouldn't have..." He trailed off, unable to find the words to express the depth of his regret and self-loathing.

He took a step back, ready to flee, to escape the condemning judgment he expected to see in your eyes. But something stopped him - perhaps it was the way you looked at him, not with anger or disgust, but with a hunger that mirrored his own.

"I saw you," he whispered, his gaze dropping to the pillow still clutched between your thighs. "I heard you saying my name, and I... I couldn't stop myself." His hand drifted back to his crotch, cupping himself almost involuntarily. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

Your breath caught in your throat at Matt's raw confession, desire warring with trepidation in your chest. This was dangerous territory, crossing lines that could never be uncrossed. Yet the aching need pulsing between your legs urged you forward, drowning out the voice of reason.

Slowly, deliberately, you sat up, letting the pillow fall away as you met Matt's heated gaze. "Show me," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Show me what I do to you."

Matt swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing with the motion. Without breaking eye contact, he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants, pushing them down just enough to free his straining erection. It sprang forth, thick and hard, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

Your pulse raced as you drank in the sight of Matt's impressive length, your cunt clenching around nothing with renewed desire. Part of you wanted to reach out, to touch, to taste, but you held yourself back, waiting to see how far he would take this forbidden game.

Matt's hand wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow pump from base to tip. A shudder ran through him at the contact, his head falling back as he let out a low moan. "Fuck, y/n," he panted, his voice strained with need. "The things I want to do to you..."

His hand moved faster, stroking himself with purposeful intent. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with his harsh breaths and bitten-off curses.

Emboldened by Matt's brazen display, you rose from the bed on trembling legs, closing the distance between you with deliberate slowness. His eyes widened as you drew near, his hand faltering in its rhythm as he took in your small frame, your old band t-shirt brushing against your bare thighs and your face flushed and glistening with sweat.

"Touch me," you demanded softly, guiding his free hand under your shirt and to your breast. "I want to feel you."

Matt obliged eagerly, his calloused palm molding to the supple flesh, thumb grazing over the pebbled peak. Electricity zipped through your veins at the contact, stoking the fire burning low in your belly.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, wrapping slender fingers around his throbbing cock. Matt groaned gutturally, his hips bucking into your grip as you began to stroke him in tandem with his own movements.

Lost in a haze of lust, Matt surrendered to the exquisite sensations assaulting his senses. Your soft hand on his aching cock, the press of your pert breast against his palm, the intoxicating scent of your arousal filling his nostrils - it was almost too much to bear.

With a growl, he tugged your shirt up and over your head, tossing it aside carelessly. His hungry gaze raked over your naked form, drinking in every dip and curve like a man starved. "So fucking beautiful," he rasped, reverent and awestruck.

Lowering his head, he captured one perky nipple between his lips, suckling greedily as his tongue swirled around the sensitive bud. Your answering moan spurred him on, his free hand sliding down to cup your ass, kneading the firm globe possessively.

Matt's demeanor shifted abruptly, his usual shyness melting away like snow under the summer sun. In its place was a raw, primal dominance that sent shivers racing down your spine.

"On your knees," he commanded, his voice a deep, authoritative rumble. There was no room for argument, no trace of the hesitant boy you knew. This was a man who took what he wanted, and right now, he wanted you.

Obediently, you sank to the floor, your heart pounding in your ears as you gazed up at him through lowered lashes. Matt towered over you, his cock jutting proudly.

"Open your mouth," he growled, fisting a hand in your hair and guiding you closer.

Your lips parted automatically, a thrill of submission coursing through you at Matt's commanding tone. He wasted no time, feeding his thick length past your lips and onto your tongue, groaning at the slick heat enveloping him.

"Fuck, yes," he grunted, setting a punishing pace as he fucked your face with abandon. One hand remained tangled in your hair, holding you steady while the other braced against the wall behind you, his muscles flexing with each powerful thrust.

Saliva dripped down your chin as you struggled to accommodate his girth, your jaw aching with the strain. But the depravity of it all, the sheer wrongness of being used so roughly by your roommate and best friend, only heightened your arousal.

Your muffled moans vibrated around Matt's cock as he continued to use your mouth for his pleasure, his balls slapping against your chin with each brutal snap of his hips. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes from the intensity, but you didn't dare pull away, submitting wholly to his dominance.

"That's it, take it all," Matt snarled, his voice guttural and rough with lust. "Bein’ such a good girl f’me, aren't you?"

His filthy words sent liquid heat straight to your core, your neglected cunt clenching around emptiness for the umpteenth time tonight. You needed more, craved the feel of him stretching you open, claiming you in the most primal way possible.

As if sensing your desperation, Matt suddenly withdrew, leaving you gasping and bereft.

"Need you so fuckin' bad, been waitin' years for this shit, kid," Matt rasped, his voice dripping with pent-up hunger. Before you could even process his words, he had you lifted off your feet, strong hands gripping your thighs as he tossed you onto the bed like a ragdoll.

You bounced slightly on the mattress, the springs creaking under your combined weight. Matt was on you in an instant, pinning you beneath his larger frame as he forced your legs apart, exposing your dripping sex to his ravenous gaze.

"Christ," he panted, his eyes dark with lust. "fuckin’ dripping baby, look at that, already making such a mess on your bed and i’ve yet to touch you."

Matt wasted no time burying his face between your thighs, his tongue delving deep into your soaked folds without preamble. “Matt! oh-“ You cried out sharply at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the bed as he lapped at your essence like a man possessed.

"Mmmph, so sweet," he mumbled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outward. His nose nudged your swollen clit, inhaling deeply as if savoring your unique musk. "Could eat this pretty pussy all day long."

Two thick fingers plunged knuckle-deep into your fluttering hole, pumping in and out at a relentless pace. They curled just so, rubbing mercilessly against that sweet spot inside you, coaxing you towards the edge with ruthless efficiency.

"Oh god, Matt!" you keened, your voice high and breathy with need. Your fingers scrabbled desperately at the sheets beneath you, seeking stability as the intense pleasure threatened to consume you whole. "Don't stop, please don't stop!"

Your hips bucked wildly, grinding shamelessly against his talented mouth as he worked you over with single-minded focus. The obscene wet sounds of his fingers pumping in and out of your sopping cunt filled the room, mingling with your wanton moans and his guttural groans of satisfaction.

It was filthy, debauched, everything you'd ever fantasized about late at night when you were alone with nothing but your imagination and your trusty vibrator for company.

Matt's tongue swirled around your throbbing clit, flicking rapidly over the sensitive bundle of nerves until you saw stars. His fingers never ceased their relentless assault, curling and twisting inside you, stroking along your inner walls with practiced precision.

"M’gonna...gonna come!" you sobbed, teetering on the razor's edge of ecstasy. Every muscle in your body pulled taut, quivering with the force of your impending release. "oh my god"

With a triumphant growl, he sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard, his fingers pistoning furiously. That was all it took to send you hurtling over the precipice, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave of pure bliss.

As the aftershocks of your climax rippled through you, Matt shifted his position, moving to hover over your trembling form. You could feel the blunt head of his cock nudging insistently at your entrance, smearing the copious juices seeping from your tight hole.

A small puddle of your combined fluids had formed beneath you, staining the sheets with irrefutable evidence of your mutual desire. The musky scent of sex hung heavy in the air.

Matt groaned low in his throat as he rubbed the swollen tip of his cock through your slick folds, coating himself liberally in your essence. The drag of his thick shaft against your sensitive flesh drew another desperate whimper from your lips, your hips canting upwards in silent invitation.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he rasped, his voice rough with barely restrained lust. "Bet this tight little cunt is just dyin' to be stretched wide on my cock, isn't she?"

"Yes, please," you breathed, your voice hoarse from screaming his name mere moments ago. " need you inside me, been wanting this for so long..."

Your hands roamed restlessly over his broad shoulders and back, mapping the planes of his muscular body. You could feel the tension thrumming through him, the barely leashed control he was exerting over himself.

"Please, Matt," you whimpered again, wrapping your legs around his waist and locking your ankles at the small of his back. "Don't make me beg."

“As much as I’d love to hear that shit,” he huffs out and with a guttural moan, Matt surged forward, bottoming out in one powerful thrust. Your velvety walls clenched greedily around him, drawing him deeper into your welcoming heat.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," he panted, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he fought to maintain some semblance of restraint. "So tight, so perfect. Like you were made just for me."

He began to move then, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back in with bruising force. Each snap of his hips drove you further up the bed, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall in a lewd counterpoint to the obscene squelch of his cock plundering your sopping wet cunt.

The pressure built steadily within you, coiling tighter and tighter with each punishing thrust. Your nails raked down his back, leaving angry red welts in their wake as you clung to him desperately, urging him deeper still.

"Harder-please," you demanded breathlessly, tilting your hips to meet his increasingly erratic strokes. "wanna feel you for days."

Your plea seemed to shatter the last vestiges of his control. With a feral snarl, Matt flipped you over onto your stomach, hauling your ass up into the air. He kicked your legs apart with his knee, opening you up completely to his hungry gaze.

"Gonna ruin this sweet little cunt," he promised darkly, delivering a sharp smack to your upturned rear. "Fill you up 'til you're leakin' with my cum."

"Yes, yes, fuck!" you chanted deliriously, pushing back against him with wild abandon. Each brutal thrust sent sparks of pleasure-pain racing up your spine, stoking the inferno building in your core.

The wet slap of skin on skin echoed obscenely throughout the room, punctuated by your loud cries and his grunts. Sweat dripped down his brow, plastering stray locks of hair to his forehead as he rutted into you like a madman.

"M’close," he bit out through clenched teeth, his movements growing increasingly erratic. "Come with me, baby. Wanna feel this tight pussy milking me dry."

With a strangled cry, you came undone, your release crashing over you like a tsunami. Your walls clamped down vice-like around his pistoning length, rippling along every inch as you rode out the waves of ecstasy.

The sensation proved too much for Matt. With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself deep inside your cunt. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides, marking you irrevocably as his.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, simply basking in the afterglow as you struggled to catch your breath. Finally, Matt rolled to the side, gathering you close and tucking your head beneath his chin.

"That was...fuck," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your sweat-damp temple. "Best damn snow day of my life."

The two of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined as you slowly drifted back to reality. The world outside continued to rage, wind howling and snow piling up, but here in the cocoon of Matt's arms, all was warm and peaceful.

As your breathing evened out, you felt a strange sense of contentment wash over you. This was more than just a casual hookup born of opportunity and circumstance - there was a connection here, something real and profound.

Matt seemed to sense it too. He nuzzled into your hair, inhaling deeply as if trying to memorize your scent. "Let me stay tonight," he whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable but this time in a way you'd never heard before. "wanna hold you 'til morning."

A sleepy smile curved your lips as you nodded against his chest. "Stay," you mumbled, already feeling yourself slipping towards slumber. "Wanna wake up with you."

Matt pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, his strong arms tightening around you possessively. "Sleep, sweetheart. I got you."

As consciousness faded away, you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so safe, so cherished. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new uncertainties - but for now, wrapped up in the warmth of Matt's embrace, everything was exactly as it should be.

And you could finally sleep.

AUTHORS NOTE: i’ve said it before but thank you guys again so so much for 200+ followers :,) i hope you enjoyed.

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1d1195 · 2 months ago

Text

The Lottery I

~3.7k words

From me: I thought I would close out 2024 with a mini-series. I'm hoping for shorter parts but I should be able to post on a regular basis (Mondays). You should see MANY similarities to my favorite show. I have been planning this one for over a year. I really hope you enjoy 💕

Warnings: angst (?) fluff

Summary: Small towns have the biggest romances and the best view of the moon.

“I don’t know how you ended up there,” Bailey shook her head.

“Bails,” she laughed. “I Googled it. It’s cute.”

The little town was adorably cute. The kind of place where the Christmas-hating CEO female lead in the movie would fall head over heels for the place in a month because of the small-town charm. It was about thirty minutes outside the city but with traffic it could take up to an hour. It was quaint. The exact kind of place she could envision her little dream.

“Your house is good?” Bailey asked. She nodded, flipping the camera to show her the little place she found to live in. Two stories. But the second floor was small. A bedroom, a bathroom, and a small room for storage. Maybe in the right light it could be a small office, but it would be better holding all her books. The bottom floor was open. Living room, dining area, and a kitchen. Down the hall was another bathroom and her bedroom. Right now, it was filled with boxes and no clear markers for any of the rooms. Her furniture was misplaced—the table in the living room, the TV on top of it, the couch was near the kitchen, and the lamps were atop the counters in the kitchen.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was home.

Moving in was second to her priorities. So the boxes would stay, her clothes haphazardly falling out of boxes, the iron on top of the island in the kitchen to get the wrinkles out of her blouses. “Neighbors are good?”

“I’ve only met Edith and David. They’re about sixty-five years old and hilarious. Edith is insistent on having tea by the end of the week and David wants to set me up with his grandson.”

“I can’t imagine you outside the city,” Bailey sounded wistful.

“It’ll be good for me to be away from all the big lights. I missed the stars... and the moon,” her voice was filled with fondness. Like the moon was her old friend she hadn’t seen in a while.

“We could see the moon in the city,” Bailey reminded her.

It wasn’t just the moon, it was the stars, and silence that the city never allowed. “It’s not the same and you know it.”

“You know babe...” Bailey trailed off. “You look... happy.”

She was. Really happy. The kind of happiness that couldn’t be faked because she was supposed to be happy. The kind of happiness that would make anyone jealous. And why shouldn’t she be happy? She was young, basically fresh out of college, ready to start her own business, and do everything she wanted on her own.

“I am happy,” she nodded and looked at her best friend through FaceTime. “I know everyone thinks I’m crazy. Try not to let them be too mean to me. I’m... I’m good,” she promised. “This is good.”

“You know,” Bailey grinned and shook her head. “I think you’re right.”

She wore her lucky dress—the one that she is certain got her a scholarship—and chose a pair of flats over heels because in her quick self-tour of the town she noted the brick sidewalks were likely to take out her ankle. She made sure every single strand of her hair wasn’t out of place. She wanted this to be a good impression. All her books and shows told her that small towns were lovely, but she was an outsider. It was possible that they wouldn’t love a newcomer and so she didn’t want to make it seem like she was changing everything.

But since it was her first night in her new home, there was nothing to eat. Nor to cook with even if she wanted to. Maybe if she had a loaf of bread, she could find her toaster in one of the boxes. Moving on her own was tough but she was proud of herself. Another check she could mark on her to-do list.

Her first order of business was securing her business. However, that couldn’t be done on an empty stomach. She locked the door to the little home she now owned. The trim needed a coat of paint, and she desperately needed to buy a lawn mower. Some of the windows needed to be replaced. She tried opening one of them and nearly threw her back out. The bushes in front of the little porch needed to be trimmed or taken out altogether.

But it was home, and it was lovely. She was excited to do it on her own. It made her feel proud.

Her family was far away. Honestly, it was for the best. They thought it was a terrible idea for her to move, maybe because they couldn’t depend on her any longer. If she thought too long about it, she got upset. But this was good. She was doing what her grandma believed she could do. What her grandpa wanted her to do.

With a family far away, her place was filled with boxes. Hardly anything was unpacked. It was a miracle she found her lucky dress but perhaps that was why it was so lucky. With the distance between them, it was easier to ignore the group chat. Easier to not feel obligated to help her family.

They’re adults, honey. They’ll figure it out.

She hoped her grandma was right.

Her friends were still in the city. Completely shocked she left the hustle and bustle for a small-town place. Their lack of support or what they passed off as worry made her nervous all the same. How would it survive? But she researched the perfect place and took plenty of time setting up everything she needed so she was ready to go when she graduated.

The only thing she wished could be different, was that her grandparents got to see her.

The main part of town felt like a city. But way friendlier. People shouted in the middle of the road. Kids ran across the road to the school. There were very few cars but even the ones present parked illegally and the officer strolling the sidewalks didn’t pay any mind to it. It was adorable. It felt like she was in a Disney movie, and she wanted to sing.

The center green was being set up with seats and banners. People were on walkie-talkies directing more items about the area. The space was warm and cozy. Like where she could spend the day reading in the grass and have a picnic with herself or a friend.

God, she hoped she made some friends. It seemed possible. Everyone was so nice. They all knew each other. That was evident. It was so comforting, exactly the change she wanted and needed, and she prayed they wouldn’t hate her for trying to bring something new to their little place.

As her stomach reminded her once more of its presence and emptiness, she approached the diner on one side of the main street. Squished between the post office and a shoe store. Someone was exiting as she opened the door, so she gestured for them to exit before she proceeded. “Thank you, darling,” the man tipped his hat to her.

With one deep breath, she entered.

It was like she was the new girl at school. The second she crossed the threshold of the diner, everyone stared at her. There wasn’t a voice to be heard, the only sound coming from behind the counter in the kitchen. “Uh... hi,” she swallowed. Quietly, she made her way to the counter and situated herself at the end of it away from everyone else.

Sure, she wanted to be part of the community and wanted to be liked, but she didn’t want to force it. The place continued to be quiet, although the murmuring began. No doubt everyone whispered about her. “No newcomers lately, I guess,” she mumbled under her breath and pulled out her folder of paperwork to go over it again.

You’re going to crush it! Bailey’s message read. She smiled gratefully, feeling her heart slow. She was wearing her lucky dress. It was going to happen. She was going to be happy no matter what.

“Shit!” It was paired with the distinct sound of something shattering. She turned directly to the sound as did everyone else in the place and she was on her feet immediately. It wasn’t anything major, a coffee mug on the floor.

“Jesus, honey, watch it!” It was an older woman who scolded her husband with a light thwack on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to, Alice!”

“Harry!” Someone called.

“Jus’ a second,” the voice was from the back, low, almost like it didn’t want to be heard. He must have been cooking or something because there was a commotion in the back behind the kitchen door. She didn’t think much of it because she was worried that poor Alice and her husband were going to get hurt picking up the broken shards or slip in the mess of spilled coffee on the floor.

“I can help,” she offered and crouched near the older woman—Alice—as she struggled to grab the pieces. “Here,” she grabbed a rag off the counter even though she had never been there and it wasn’t her place to do so. Gently she pushed the broken pieces and coffee into a neat little pile sopping up the mess as best she could.

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Alice chimed. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” she smiled politely.

“Did you just move here?” She asked. Perhaps that would satiate the whispering.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where are you living?”

“Oh... um... Oak Street,” she stammered. It probably didn’t help her newness that she stammered. But her new address was new; she was still getting used to it.

“Oh, Holliston’s place! It’s a lovely home,” someone called from across the room.

“Y’don’t have t’do that,” it was the same voice that called from the back but now right next to her.

“Oh...” Her heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him. Did time seem to stop? That couldn’t be right. She wasn’t going to have a crush on the first guy she met on her first official day as a resident of the small town. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly looking up at him from her crouched position. “Happy to help and...” She stopped speaking again as he stared at her. His eyes were pretty, even if he looked grumpy. His mouth was set in a frown, and she noticed that once more everyone stopped speaking. “Sorry,” she said and stood, scooping the mess as best she could in her hands. Coffee dripped from the rag into the puddle at her feet. She could feel the splatter on her ankles, and she was nervous to look if she had ruined her shoes. It didn’t bother her, but she wasn’t sure she’d have time to head home and change before she went to the town hall.

Harry held out the tray for dirty dishes and she placed the rag, broken pieces of mug, and all into it. He dropped it on the counter about two spaces down from where her folder and purse remained. “Are you okay, ma’am?” She asked softly placing a gentle hand on her arm in a comforting kind of way.

“Alice, Ed, y’okay?” Harry—she presumed—was quiet. It almost rubbed her the wrong way that he repeated her, but he knew them, and she didn’t. So, she returned to her seat quietly after offering one more smile to Alice.

“All good, Harry,” Ed said in return.

Harry went back around the counter and fiddled with the coffee pot. He refilled a new mug and brought it over to Ed. When he returned behind the counter he stood in front of her silently. Waiting. Not offering a word nor question.

Harry looked to be roughly her age. Handsome. If this was David’s grandson, she would have reconsidered his offer. But his scowl was to be desired. Made her uneasy. She wondered if this was how he always was or if it was something about her.

But she wanted to be liked. People generally didn’t dislike her. It would devastate her if he did. As grumpy as he seemed, she wasn’t going to shy away from her own personality. “Do y’want something?”

“What’s your favorite?” She asked glancing from the menu to him.

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a favorite.”

She blinked. He worked here. Did he own it? That would be crazy, he was so young. But she was young and about to own her business too. So who was she to judge his age? “How can you not have a favorite?”

“I like it all,” he shrugged.

“You seriously don’t have a favorite?”

“Since I own the diner,” he was explaining it like she was a toddler, “everything is good.”

“Well...” she took a deep breath. It wasn’t that she was one of those people who assumed everyone would like her, but it was... different to work for friendliness. Bailey told her she had the kind of face that would work wonders in sales. Everyone just opened up to her.

But not Harry. Harry was stoic as could be. It barely looked like he was breathing. Other than the irritation in his eyes, he had a really nice face. Smooth skin, angular jaw, and just pretty features that were probably wasted on someone so grumpy. But she could see something flicker in his eyes. Something that she wasn’t sure he wanted anyone to see which is why it was merely a flicker.

Was this grumpy man amused? By her?

“...Do you have a recommendation then?”

“Anything. It’s all good,” he was clearly over this exchange.

She thought she could get him to budge but it didn’t seem that way. This was the fast track to nowhere. Not the impression she wanted to make on her first official day in town. Sighing, she glanced at the specials board. “You have peach pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have white chocolate chips?”

Harry sighed, exasperated with the conversation, and she hadn’t even ordered her coffee yet. “Yup...” he was staring at her like this was going to kill him. Or he was going to kill her.

“Can I have one of each? Peaches and white chocolate chip?”

“What?” He seemed surprised. Which was interesting because surely it couldn’t have been crazy. Peaches and white chocolate chips had to be popular if he had them. He shook his head. “No.”

“Why not?” She frowned.

“Because s’extra work t’make a whole batch of peachpancakes and chocolate chip. One or the other.”

Maybe it was his tone or her frustration. The nerves of heading to town hall after breakfast. The piss-poor impression she was making at the extremely local diner where everyone seemed to know Harry. Even though he was grumpy they still ate there. It was obvious this wasn’t their first day being there. They still called out for him when the mug shattered even though she was more than capable of helping.

But she didn’t want to take no for an answer. Maybe if he had placated her or smiled. Or if he just didn’t look at her like she was the bane of his existence she wouldn’t have pressed. “But... I don’t want one or the other. I want one of each.”

“Get ‘em mixed together or don’t have ‘em,” he shrugged.

“But if I get them mixed together, the peaches will sink to one side or slide off all together. The chocolate chips always sink to the bottom. So the ratio in each bite will be off. I’ve tried it before; it just doesn’t blend well.”

“If I make y’one peach and one white chocolate chip, then all m’ratios will be off. I’ll have t’purchase different quantities of peaches and chocolate chips.”

“That seems a little dramatic for one plate of—"

“S’my diner! Jus’ order what’s on the menu or order four pancakes.”

“That’s absurd! I doubt I’ll even eat one whole pancake!”

Harry swallowed hard, his jaw flexing tight. Briefly he looked at the ceiling and then back at her. His voice was quieter when he spoke. “Order what’s on the menu or don’t order at—"

“Fine! Two peach pancakes!”

Honestly, she has no idea why she was arguing in the first place. It was idiotic and childish but there was something about the grumpiness that was off-putting and made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was solely because he didn’t seem to like her, and she was trying really hard to fit in and he was the only person she had met so far that was close to her own age. If she could get him to like her, then maybe she wouldn’t be friendless and lonely.

With another large sigh (like it was painful for him to be standing near her) he rolled his eyes and headed to the back to make her breakfast. She wouldn’t be surprised if he poisoned them.

The diner was still quiet, and she could feel eyes flicking over to her repeatedly, their gazes heating her up with knowledge she was being watched. To keep her cool, she continued flipping through her paperwork folder and scrolled on her phone.

About ten minutes later, Harry returned holding her plate. It was practically silent again. The show that ensued was not forgotten by the other customers. Harry failed to hide his interest in her paperwork and failed to hide the fact he was reading whatever was in front of her. It didn’t bother her, honestly. She wanted to be an open book. Especially in a small town and especially with the guy that looked beyond irritated with her.

Trying again was insanity. But she was nothing if not one for perseverance. “Do you know what time the town hall opens? I tried to find a time online but—"

Harry snorted. “Town Hall doesn’t do online. S’whenever Sutton gets there t’unlock.”

She blinked. Small towns. “When’s that?”

“Usually before nine-thirty.”

“Usually?”

Harry shrugged, placing the plate in front of her. She could smell cinnamon and maple. Of course, the peaches were starting to caramelize as well and so it really looked utterly delicious. “Sometimes he forgets his alarm. Then s’before ten-thirty.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Alright,” she nodded. “Hey,” she called quietly as Harry turned to leave. “Do you do tabs? I’m probably going to be here every morning before work. It’s fine if you don’t. Just... figured it would easier.”

Did it get even quieter? Harry had a way with sighing. Heavily. Like talking to her and thinking were the two greatest and hardest tasks he’d ever been given in his life. Her eyes quickly darted around the place. There were enough tables to seat about twenty people plus five seats at the counter. It was busy—not crowded or full, but busy. It was just after the morning commute group had left; she had to imagine. The hustle of the nine-to-five crowd was long gone. “Sure,” he shook his head. “Every Friday.”

She was certain she didn’t imagine it that time. The entire place was silent for another ten seconds before the low murmur picked up again.

“Okay, thank you. I just... moved into town and I had no food at my house.”

“Whose house?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Whose house did y’buy?”

“Oh... uh... the Holliston’s?” Was that the name someone said a few moments ago? It had to be because no one corrected her, and it was apparent everyone was listening to her to talk to Harry.

“Nice couple,” she supposed she got it right then. “Do you want coffee?” He asked.

Was this him warming up to her? It was interesting. It wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t arguing. Which she liked. Although arguing with him was kind of... fun in its own way. But she needed a friend before she argued with him for hours on end.

“Oh, yes,” she nodded quickly. “Please. Thank you.” Was it hot in there? Harry was attractive—even if he was grumpy. A sour face usually turned her off immediately. But with Harry... it didn’t seem so grumpy anymore. Especially now that he stopped arguing with her. The crease between his eyebrows disappeared. His frown turned to a more neutral expression. She swore that flicker of amusement was back again. “This is a really cute town,” she remarked.

Harry ignored the comment as he poured her a mug of steaming coffee and placed a little plate of cream and sugar packets beside it. “What brings y’here?” He asked. She did hear his skepticism like maybe he was going to kick her out before she unpacked if she wasn’t good enough for the clique-y village.

“Oh,” she swallowed. “I’m hoping to open a book shop.”

Harry tilted his head at her, surprise all over his face and she couldn’t figure out for the life of her why that would be. “Oh?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. Approval? Was she in the club? “Alright, well... welcome, I guess. Let me know if y’need help with the water at y’house. It always gave the Holliston’s trouble in the winter, and I’d have t’go over and fix it. Don’t want y’pipes t’freeze.”

That was it. He walked away. She watched the grumpy, attractive man tend to the tables, cleaning, and serving all by himself. The others were patient. There was no rushing to get to work like it was Starbucks and everyone quietly waited their turn. There wasn’t a lot of small talk with Harry, but people smiled at him. Like they knew him from the time he was a baby. Maybe they did.

She hoped he would warm up to her. It would be nice to have a friend like him.

Turning to her breakfast, she cut into both pancakes stacked on top of one another, brought a bite of the two little pieces to her mouth after drowning it in enough maple syrup to make the man look at her suspiciously from across the room.

There was no way someone was that concerned about ratios of one patron. He could be grumpy all he wanted, but Harry was dramatic too. (Even if it was way more syrup than she needed, and he probably had a point in worrying about syrup—especially if she was going to be there every day.)

But as the bite hit her tastebuds, she had to look down and see it for herself.

One pancake was peach and the other was white chocolate chip.

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stellewriites · 29 days ago

Text

simon is a he/him lesbian in this fic. he’s a gender nonconforming cis woman & prefers using a masc name and pronouns

huge thank you to woolie, birdy, gougie, báir & three for being so encouraging and helping me with this fic and to kitty for making all of my oc names as always :3

this is a love letter to butches <33

Riley (he/him), 31, female.

Looking for a roommate ASAP. DM for details, don’t fuck me about.

you’d found the post on an online forum asking for a roommate and hadn’t hesitated to reach out immediately when you saw you were in the same city. your current roommate was only a few weeks away from moving in with her boyfriend, which would leave you with an apartment you couldn’t afford on your own.

although the post left everything to the imagination, the options for roommates were slim pickings and the single room apartments on the market were no cheaper, meaning you were getting desperate.

after a brief back and forth online with riley, he explained that his own roommate was moving out which was why he was looking for someone new to fill the spot. the apartment was cheap for the area - not that he told you where it was- and you’d have your own bedroom but you’d share the living room and kitchen, there were two small bathrooms, and storage in the shallow loft since it was the top floor apartment.

standard stuff but it sounded perfect.

riley was a blunt texter, but you assumed he’d maybe had his fill of people messing him about so far and just wanted to get down to business and find a roommate before he was stuck in the same position as you; paying double rent for a place that wasn’t worth it, digging into savings to stay afloat.

after covering whether you smoked (quit last year), had any pets (allergic), or liked frequent house parties (too shy), he offered to meet up to go into more detail about the place and you’d jumped at the chance, naming a cafe you liked to frequent near your work.

you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you arrived and found a table near the window - or more accurately, what you’d been picturing riley to look like - but you’d had to school your features into something less flustered when a tall woman in a baggy hoody and a pair of black work out shorts walked in and bee-lined for your corner.

as he walked your eyes glued themselves to his nike shorts as they rose up his thighs, indecently tight, showing off the thick muscle covered in a smattering of soft, unshaven hair, light enough that it glistened in the afternoon light. as he got closer you noticed a smattering of scars leading up his shins to his knees and stretch marks curving around the inside of his thighs.

you felt the urge to reach out and touch when you felt the weight of his own gaze taking you in for the first time.

“riley?” you’d asked hesitantly, when you finally managed to lift your head up to face him, cheeks ablaze. beneath his hood you could see that the scars continued on his face; almost prominently one ran from mid chin through his lips and up his cheek, another, smaller but thicker, ran from his hairline to two inches down his forehead slightly off centre.

you were mesmerised.

“prefer simon,” he’d corrected but nodded, his voice lighter than you’d expected but thickly accented.

he pulled down his hood with a scant look around the cafe to reveal a short cropped haircut, a little shaggy at the top. he took the seat opposite you and you sat up straight when your knees bumped accidentally. you snatched your legs back beneath your chair and clenched your thighs tightly together as the warmth of his bare skin throbbed through your jeans.

christ what was wrong with you? you had the attention of one hot, tall butch and suddenly you were a bag of nerves and fumbling all over the place. get it together.

“oh! yeah ok, cool,” you said and tried to smile normally. “simon.”

“not what you were expecting?” he asked wryly.

“uhm, no,” you admitted with an embarrassed little huff. “not exactly; i don’t really know what i was expecting though to be fair.”

“want to back out? no ‘ard feelings,” simon offered indifferently. guarded.

“no! no, i’m still very interested,” you insisted, biting your cheek when he raised an eyebrow at you in amusement. “i ordered already, uhm. got here a little early after work so i figured why not? i just got you a latte, i should’ve maybe asked.”

you felt wrong footed in front of his confidence. his legs were spread wide beneath the table, feet planted on the outside of yours and suddenly this felt less like a first meeting for a roommate and instead like your ideal first date.

you looked over at the counter and tapped your leg impatiently when you couldn’t see your drinks.

“that’s nice of ya.”

“i wanted to make a good first impression if we’re gonna be roomies,” you joked.

“mm.” he looked you up and down. “you messy?”

“excuse me?”

“i like to keep the place clean. deal breaker if you’re messy, it’s why soap had to move out.”

“soap? i don’t— yeah, i’m clean. tidy. i can keep my shit tidy,” you insisted. a waitress brought your drinks over on a tray and you thanked her quietly.

he smiled. “good, then this should be fine.” his foot tapped yours under the table. “relax. you said you came here after work?”

“yeah, i work nearby. sales calls, nothing interesting,” you shrugged and took a big sip. “pay is shit, but it covers half of the bills. what about you?”

“construction,” he said simply and your eyes drifted without permission to his hands wrapped around his mug then up to his arms hidden beneath his hoody.

“nice,” you choked out, visions of simon in a sweaty tank top throwing back a sledge hammer, not at all helping with the heat on your face and between your legs. “long hours?”

“sometimes,” he conceded. “s’why i asked about parties. don’t need to be coming home from work to an ‘ouse full’a dick’eads.”

you snorted.

“i can promise no house parties. well, maybe one around my birthday but i mean does inviting four people around for pizza really count as a house party?”

simon squinted his eyes playfully. “guess i can allow a little leniency here and there.”

you grinned behind your cup.

“what about your own friends? they swing by often?”

“not if i can help it,” simon huffed, a smile pulling at his scarred lip as you chuffed a surprised laugh. “tend to go to gaz’s or price’s house if his bird in’t home.”

the idea of a bunch of lads around the flat wouldn’t have necessarily been a deal breaker, but it was a relief to know it wasn’t going to be often regardless.

the pair of you stayed long enough to order a second drink while you discussed rent prices, tenancy agreements, and simon showed you photos of the area it was in.

“can show you the place now if you don’t need to head home yet?” he’d offered. “not too far to walk from here. could get an idea of the place and see if it fits.”

you’d nodded eagerly and followed him a couple of blocks away to a cosy, hidden away flat near the centre of town. you were surprised it was as cheap as he’d said given the location, but when the water refused to get hot in the kitchen sink when he went to wash a singular mug you soon caught on.

“boiler goes every other month, but i know how to fix it,” he’d said with a sigh, popping the kettle on instead. “taps, radiators ‘n shower all go cold.”

you winced, but it wasn’t enough to put you off. “landlord refuses to get it sorted?”

“landlord doesn’t answer my texts or calls anymore, think he got pissy w’me after i complained about him doin’ fuck all about the single glazed windows to the council few winters back.” you pursed your lips in order to not laugh but simon saw your expression and shrugged unrepentant. “arsehole needed tellin’, di’nt he?”

“i think this place will be perfect,” you settled on saying. you looked out of the nearest window and noted the working locks; the traffic was loud outside but you’d always preferred the constant buzz to send you off to sleep, the few times you’d been camping you’d not slept a wink in the silence.

he told you about the few other residents and explained the shortcuts you could take to get to work or for the shops and by time simon had finished giving you the tour of the place - a deceptively long space towards the back, hiding its double bathroom and bedrooms - you’d noticed it had gotten dark outside. when he noticed your furtive glance however, simon offered to drive you home without a second thought.

and again, not thirty minutes later when you were about to climb out of his truck with one last deep breath of his cologne, he offered to help you move in next week.

if that works for you, he’d said.

you’d started packing as soon as you got inside.

the only issue with moving in with simon - an issue you’d only noticed after having lived together for 6 months already, an issue your friends had to point out to you - was that the dating pool in manchester suddenly seemed a little drab. a little pathetic.

“i really don’t think si has anything to do with the fact that i can’t find anyone i’m interested in when we go out anymore, i think it makes more sense that all the hot women are just no longer single now,” you’d laughed when your friend had suggested it.

sure you thought simon was insanely hot, and that opinion had only solidified after spending the last half a year with him; seeing him braless more often than not beneath his muscle shirts when he lounged around the flat on his off days, pressing closer than necessary after a shower when you tried to pass by in the hallway, working out in the living room grunting and groaning as he hit his push-up goal, sweating and stretching obscenely as you tried to keep your eyes respectfully locked on your phone or the tv.

you were well aware that simon was sexy but more importantly off limits, so you didn’t let it affect your dating life. or so you thought.

“doesn’t help that you barely come out on a night with us,” emma pouted. “even less now that you hang out with simon most evenings.”

“when was the last time you hooked up with someone? even just kissed someone?” ash asked before you could defend your lack of social life, their eyebrow raised as if to prove their point.

you sighed. it had been a while, and taking care of things by yourself wasn’t really working out too well. simon always seemed to come home just when the frustration peaked enough for you to grab your vibrator, and you knew from the girls he’d taken home in the first few months that the walls were in fact thin enough to hear everything. with gritted teeth and wet panties, you always had to put it back in your drawer and wait for another day for some ‘me time’.

quotas for no nut november were being accidentally exceeded so much so that you were heading into catholic nun absolution. it was almost mid may; you needed to find someone to break you out of your funk sooner than later. get over by getting under or whatever.

“we’re not trying to guilt you into coming out with us,” emma added kindly, wrapping her arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. “we know you don’t always like the crowd and that’s fine. but we just want you to be getting the dick or pussy that you deserve.”

you snorted and rolled your eyes. “what do you suggest then?”

emma shared a look with ash. “well…”

it hadn’t taken much more convincing from your friends to set up an account for you on tinder after that.

you spent some time on your profile, trying to find the right blend of funny but not too snarky, sexy but still approachable. it was a nightmare but the thought of getting your tits kissed and played with by someone else after almost half a year was enough to keep you on track. you just needed to focus and get it done.

——

as you walked back to your flat with ash after grabbing lunch together, you flicked through the options in your area.

“oh, she’s cute!” ash scrolled through the photos before cackling. “she’s funny too, listen, ‘if you google top places to eat out in the city, i’m the number one spot. better make your reservation quick’.”

you laughed. “oh that’s bad, si would find that funny.”

ash sent you a deadpan stare before going back to the profile. “so swiping right?”

you hummed and glanced at the phone again. “i don’t know, i don’t think she’s my type.”

“the last ten profiles ‘haven’t been your type,’ admit you’re just being picky,” ash pointed out.

“i’ve got standards is all,” you huffed. “i’m not just going to say yes to everyone.”

“she was exactly what you normally go for; strong build, blonde and funny in a dumb way according to the bio, aka you catnip,” they said. “hell, i’m surprised she’s not one of your exes.”

“fuck you,” you laughed and elbowed them. “i don’t even have a type, i don’t know why i said that.”

“oh please,” ash guffawed. “i can and will list the many attributes your exes all share if i have to.”

you sent them a scathing look and they held up their hands in defeat, a smug smile ruining their supposedly conceding pose.

“the only outlier was that weird austrian that i told you not to give the time of day to,” they continued. their face crumpled into a look of disgust, nose wrinkled and eyes pained. “could tell as soon as he opened his mouth that he doesn’t wash his dick.”

you pouted and ground your teeth in a grimace, unable to disagree on any count. he was certainly a lapse in judgement, you wouldn’t deny it.

“i’m just not feeling it, ash. i don’t want to waste her time when i don’t see the attraction. it’s not fair on her.” you shrugged and took back your phone to swipe left. “maybe my type has changed.”

ash stayed quiet a moment, looking contemplative as you both continued walking.

“ok you have a point. there’s no need to waste people’s time, but - and hear me out - everyone on there is just treading water trying to figure out who they want to fuck. she might spend a week talking to you and then ghost,” ash explained.

“great, cheers for that,” you chuffed.

“you know what i mean,” they rolled their eyes. “everyone’s figuring out if they want to go on a date or jump in bed with each other on there, you’re not wasting anyone’s time by giving them a chance. let yourself be wooed.”

“‘wooed’, i’m not looking for a mr darcy,” you joked.

“then actually give these people a shot, it’s not like they’re looking for marriage either,” ash countered. “or maybe you’ve got a specific person in mind distracting you that you’re making unfair comparisons to.”

you glared as you entered the apartment building. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sniffed. you opened the app up again and bit your lip before swiping right on the first five profiles that appeared, showing your friend as you did. “there, happy?”

your phone buzzed and you looked down with wide eyes as all five accounts matched you back. the app directed you to the messaging centre and you looked at ash sheepishly.

“don’t you dare unmatch them,” they warned teasingly, pointing their finger at you with squinted eyes as you waited in the elevator. “go on a few dates and be spoiled for once. if nothing else, you get a good meal and some fresh air.”

you laughed as you finally reached your floor. you unlocked the door to your flat and dropped your coat on the back of a dining chair before slumping on the sofa with ash joining a second after sans their boots and coat.

“fine, fine. i’m on here for a reason, right? i might as well give them a chance,” you agreed a little reluctantly.

“give who a chance?” simon asked as he came from the back of the flat, passing through to the kitchen.

“my lovely bestie is finally on tinder,” ash said with a sharp grin aimed at simon. “hoping to find someone to fuck out the last six months of—“

“yeah thanks, ash! feel free to shut the fuck up, i don’t think simon cares about the details of my sex life,” you interrupted, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

“no?” ash asked playing dumb. they pouted and turned back to simon. “my bad.”

you hadn’t noticed simon had grown reserved and quiet at ash’s outburst, too busy trying to save face and distract yourself with thinking of a decent opening message.

“and anyway, i’m just going a few dates first,” you corrected and looked at simon. “so don’t worry about me inviting anyone around to the flat or anything.”

simon nodded tersely before swallowing. “s’fine.” he looked shiftily over to the kitchen before moving to lean over the back of your seat, arms resting behind your head as he peered over your shoulder.

“show me,” he ordered softly. you shivered at the feel of his breath on your neck as he spoke and immediately opened the app again.

you chuffed an unimpressed laugh at the profile that popped up first. “‘want to surprise my boyfriend with a threesome for his birthday, any takers?’ jesus christ, the dating pool is so dire,” you whined.

simon chuckled behind you. “bloke looks like he’d barely be able to handle ya either, look at ‘im. he’d ruin his pants before you even took ya bra off.”

“at least i’d be able to concentrate on the girlfriend then,” you snickered along with him.

“nah, best you’d get from her is a bit o’ tongue for show,” simon said. “can tell by the profile ‘er heart’s not in it.”

you swiped left and simon was immediately ready to point out the failings of this profile too, and then again when you swiped left after laughing along, and again after that.

the way he leant over you blocked your friend from your view, but simon could see the knowing look ash was giving him directly in his peripheral, but he chose to ignore it. especially when he lowered one hand into your lap to start swiping left himself.

you let your free hand rise to play with simon’s long shirt sleeve before you suddenly took in his attire and frowned.

“why are you dressed for work?” you turned to sit on your knees facing the back of the sofa as he rose up to his full height to see him wearing his work trousers and steel-toe boots, his hi-vis vest tucked into his waistband.

“john rang, asked me to cover soap’s shift when he went home sick after lunch. i’ll be back from the lot later; might be late in the evening if i have to go grab a few things for ‘im from b&q before it closes for tomorrow,” he said, contrite.

you pouted heavy and exaggerated. “movie night’s cancelled? fuck you, john price.”

simon snorted, his scarred lip lifting at one side in obvious mirth. “i’ll tell ‘im y’said that, shall i?”

“fine with me, i’m not afraid of him,” you goaded.

“he’s ex military you know,” simon winced jokingly.

you rolled your eyes. “no duh. so are you.”

he hummed a low single note.

“and you wouldn’t let him touch a hair on my head, right si?” you continued shamelessly.

“i’d tell him there’s no point wasting time trying to teach you manners. any time i try to knock some sense into ya noggin it just echoes,” he huffed, holding back a smile as he tapped his knuckles on your crown for emphasis.

you swiped at his fist with a hiss.

“you can piss off to your job already then if you’re going to take the mick,” you laughed. you kept your hands to yourself otherwise, knowing better than to try and push him away after one too many failed attempts. his stomach was always firm enough to keep your best efforts from moving him, but topped with a thick and soft enough layer that it gave way beneath your prodding fingers and roaming palm.

“i’ll make it up t’ya. another night,” he promised lowly, bending down close again to whisper. as your pout lessened he nodded before heading out.

“wooow,” ash exaggerated and lengthened the word sarcastically as they sat watching you slump back to sit normally now that simon was gone. “it’s somehow worse than i thought.”

“hm?”

“does he always fold like a cheap suit when you flash the puppy dog eyes at him?” ash laughed.

“you’re seeing things, he literally just cancelled on me,” you argued and turned to the tv to channel surf. “are you staying for tea? think i’ve got the stuff in for a curry, could pirate that new horror with kyle gallner.”

ash rubbed at their chin. “don’t think i didn’t notice the subject change… but i’m listening.”

——

you got your movie night with si a few days later with the pair of you lounged on the couch, simon’s heavy, long legs draped across your lap as you waited for the take out you’d ordered to arrive.

your phone buzzed with a notification and simon perked up. “food here?”

you took a moment to respond, looking at your phone and tapping away for a second before shaking your head. “no, just a message.”

you phone buzzed again just before you could put it back down and you unlocked it again with a growing smile.

“oh, ‘s emma asking about dog sittin’ again?” he guessed.

“it’s not emma,” you said easily, without further detail, distracted by your phone.

before simon could ask, a knock at the door had him swinging his legs down and heading to grab the bag of food. he grabbed some cutlery from the kitchen on the way back before slumping heavily down next to you, spreading his thighs wide enough to press against yours.

he frowned when he saw you were still engrossed in your phone, a little secretive smile pulling at your lips. at the smell of the food you looked up and your eyes brightened, you put your phone back on the table and ignored it when it buzzed, helping simon instead, sitting back when you had your share and pressing play on your movie. when the phone buzzed twice more in quick succession you bit your lip and glanced at it.

“answer it,” simon said bitingly, having figured out who’d be messaging you by that point. the stupid, bloody app. “but tell ‘em you’re busy with a woman already.”

your eyes widened and you coughed out a surprised laugh. “si.”

“tell ‘em you’re not hanging out with ‘em next week either, you can’t make it. you’re busy with me instead,” he continued, the weight of his hooded gaze heavy and stifling.

“but i’m not busy, we don’t have plans next week,” you said weakly, confused.

simon huffed heavily through his nose. you’d almost think it was bordering on angry but for the entire time you’d known him, simon had never gotten angry at you, even when you accidentally shrunk his brand new sports bra on a too-hot wash.

you both tensed when your phone buzzed again.

“let me turn off my notifications,” you said and reached for the phone furtively. you skimmed your notifications and felt something bloom in your chest at the mention of a date from one of your matches, but you didn’t mention it to simon. “there we go, now we can focus on movie night,” you said with a grin, scooping another forkful of sweet & sour chicken into your mouth.

simon’s shoulders dropped and he nodded. he looked to your half empty glass and stood up. “want me to grab you another drink?”

you smiled, mouth closed and cheeks full of rice, and nodded as he chuckled. he turned away before the urge to poke your puffy cheeks won out and you accidentally spat rice out on the rug.

——

>> any new matches? 👀👀👀

you pursed your lips as you read the text from emma.

<< a few. might have a date next week

<< depends if she plays her cards right

>> lol is it the librarian or the electrician?

<< electrician. might give me mates rates if i ask her to check out the faulty leccy wiring in the flat :p

>> more like dates rates ;)

>> she was cute 😍 where’s the date?

<< she mentioned getting dinner, a new place that just opened up that she said was meant to be cool

>> the thai place? omgggg i’ve been meaning to go! give me ur review after pls and ty

>> and i mean the food, but any dirty deets are welcome too 👀👀

<< ???

<< i haven’t agreed to go yet

>> 🙄 girl…

>> what happened to giving them a chance, ash said you were on board

<< idk si was acting really weird the other day

<< he got really moody about it all, practically told me to fob it all off and just hang out with him instead

<< i think he’s worried

you had been watching a few murder documentaries lately, and one too many of them had started off as innocent dates or first meet ups that ended in tragedy.

>> i think he’s jealous

you stared at the text as your stomach flipped.

<< ???

>> he’s literallyyyy had a huge crush on u since forever

>> this is not news 😐

you scoffed but felt your stomach clench and hesitated to text back.

>> don’t believe me? just watch how he acts around you over the next few days and see if he does any of these repeatedly

emma sent a screenshot from a website listing ‘things she does if she likes you’ and you snorted. it felt trivial, like you were a teenager again, but you decided to play along.

<< fine. but he won’t.

you sent your quick affirmative back before putting your phone down and finishing your break.

the idea of simon liking you was an impossible one in your mind. simon had brought home women from the moment you’d moved in, it had never been a deterrent and he’d always said you were welcome to do the same as long as they didn’t stick around when he had a day off.

recently though, you thought, there’d been less and less women traipsing out of si’s room giggling and flushed, staring adoringly up at the tall butch woman. sadly, you knew exactly how good simon was in bed from the enthusiastic sounds of his previous partners over the months, so you couldn’t blame them for tripping over their feet as they were ushered towards the exit, an eager ‘call me, yeah?’ breathed out just before the door was closed forever.

that was another reason you’d never made a move. even if sometimes there had been moments where you had thought simon’s gaze lingered too long or his touch couldn’t be excused as just friendly; you couldn’t take being a one night stand. not with him, and not when you’d have to move out when your feelings inevitably bubbled over.

you bit your lip as you cooked that evening. simon was chopping the veg for your bolognese as you were left to watch over the pasta - last time you’d burnt it when you’d turned away and gotten distracted and you refused to let simon hold that over you for any longer.

“you know i can go stay at ash’s or with emma and her partner for a day or two if you want,” you offered out of the blue.

simon stopped cutting and looked at you.

“why the fuck would i want tha’?”

you swallowed. “i just noticed you haven’t had many people ‘round recently and thought maybe it was because i was home,” you said, barely meeting his eyes. “so i can make myself sparse for a few days, it’s no bother. i don’t mind.”

“i had johnny over just the other day,” simon said as though you might have forgotten. the boisterous scot had managed to fondly wiggle his way into gaining your friendship the few times he’d popped by for simon. “and gaz and the lads are all coming by next week. y’dont need t’ leave.” he went back to chopping though much more forcefully now, the chopping board dully thumping with each downward cut he made through the courgette.

“yeah… but what about other visitors?” you hedged. “the walls are thin, si, so i thought maybe you’d want the place to yourself again temporarily so you can—“

“no. i don’t want the place to m’self. i like havin’ you here, like hearing you move around in the night and in the mornings,” he interrupted without looking up. “you stay.” he paused for a moment, doubting himself even as you nodded along. “unless you want to go?”

“god no! no, i just thought i should offer,” you laughed a little awkwardly.

he frowned deeper.

“do you want me to go?”

you paused, you mouth flapping like a fish. this was an option you’d not considered. you noticed simon’s eyes grow more and more desperate, his grip on the veg in front of him tightening as he waited for your response.

“no. never, si,” you said.

he watched you a moment more before nodding. “good. wouldn’t have anyway.”

you snorted a laugh and looked back to the spaghetti, hissing when you saw it had stuck to the bottom of the pan. “shit.”

“…tell me you haven’t managed to burn it a second time.”

——

your conversation with simon reminded you of the article emma had sent you. it took less than a week to notice how differently simon acted with others in comparison to how considerate he was with you.

he made the effort to hold eye contact at the start of your conversations, and if you ever paused too long in your reply his eyes would flicker back up from where they’d drifted to his food or phone to check why. you’d never doubted he was always listening, but seeing it first hand reassured you that he was without fail. and it only highlighted, now that you looked for it, how closely he kept to himself when strangers tried to pick up a conversation with him, how he used as few words as possible on the off chance he did reply.

you wouldn’t hesitate to consider simon tactile, soft-handed and gentle. but you knew that was a privilege. the same with his smiles, spotted in flash of crooked teeth or the slow crinkle of his dark eyes paired with the pull of his scar on the occasion he wore his mask.

at your realisation, you began to check the list religiously each night in the safety of your bed as though trying to convince yourself that you hadn’t noticed the way simon mirrored your own behaviour. how he’d lean opposite you in the small kitchen, tilting his head a second after yours as you complained about work, boiling the kettle for a cuppa after a long day.

you’d pretend not to notice him on the phone twenty minutes later, cancelling going out with his friends, again, so he could stay with you while you relax for the weekend.

you found he’d swapped the brand of peanut butter you usually bought after the last one gave you a tummy ache without mentioning it, he’d asked about your grandad’s birthday even though you’d brought it up offhandedly weeks before, he let you run your hands through his hair near his scar when he napped on the sofa. the list went on.

but you’d already agreed to that date with the electrician.

——

“i don’t know if i’ve come down with something, my stomachs not right. i don’t think think i should go,” you complained as you got ready for your date, your phone propped up on your dresser with ash and emma’s faces on screen as you video called. “i feel queasy.”

“that’s just the nerves, you’ll be ok once you get there,” emma soothed.

“want us to meet you afterwards?” ash asked.

“maybe, yeah,” you hummed. “or maybe call me an hour in just in case it isn’t going well so i can have an excuse to leave?”

“how does ‘your long lost brother just woke from a coma and you’re the only one he remembers’ sound?” ash asked.

“dramatic enough for me to make my escape,” you laughed.

“you won’t need it,” emma reassured. “you’ll be too busy flirting and fawning over her muscles to even answer the phone.”

you laughed harder and the ache in your stomach faded ever so slightly as you pulled on your shoes and got ready to leave. simon was still at work, pulling some extra hours to get the job back on schedule after johnny’s time off, which meant the flat was empty as you left.

you bit your lip and headed to the restaurant, waving shyly from the entrance when you saw jessi, the electrician, already seated and waiting on you.

“hey, been here long?” you asked as you took your seat.

“barely five minutes,” she reassured you with an easy smile. “you look stunning, by the way. worth the wait.”

you thanked her, and took in her styled hair and half unbuttoned dress shirt from across the table. you felt a little underdressed in comparison but hid your insecurity when you smiled at her across the table.

“are you always this shy?” she asked when you stayed silent a beat too long, her grin turning sly and teasing.

you laughed a little self depreciatingly and shrugged. “it’s been a little while since i went on a date,” you admitted, butterflies starting to flutter at her sharp gaze.

“i’ll go easy on you then,” she promised and winked before handing you a menu. “what looks good to you?”

——

you’d thought the date was going fine, good, even. the thought of leaving hadn’t crossed your mind and when emma had called you’d screened it and smiled at the winky face she’d sent a moment later.

jessi was fun to talk to; her humour was maybe a little more forced than what you liked but it wasn’t a deal breaker. you’d thought she was enjoying herself too given the flirtatious comments, the lingering looks and how her ankle kept brushing yours.

but just before you could suggest ordering desserts, she stood and grabbed her coat.

“this has been…” she trailed off. “maybe you’re not ready for dating, you know?”

she’d dropped a few twenty notes on the table and left before you could ask what the fuck that meant.

you called over the waiter, covered the rest of the bill and made your own downtrodden exit soon after, dessert suddenly not seeming so appetising.

“tell me you’re going to her house to stay the night and that this is a safety call,” ash said as soon as they answered.

you huffed a sarcastic laugh. “nope.” you popped the ‘p’ and scuffed your toe along the pavement as you walked.

“fuck, this isn’t a good sign then. no dessert?” you heard emma mumble in the background.

“put me on speaker if you two are still hanging out,” you said and hugged your thin jacket tighter with your free arm as you started heading down the dark street towards your apartment.

“how’d it go?” emma asked a moment later.

“i thought it was going good,” you whined. “she was nice, we were chatting, i was engaging! but she just… left?”

“what were you chatting about?” ash asked.

“just the basics; work, friends, hobbies, roommates,” you listed.

“oh god,” emma groaned on the other end of the line. you heard her voice become muffled as though her face was in a pillow as she grumbled, “you didn’t.”

“what?” you asked with a frown. “it was good, she was being flirty.”

“yeah no shit, it was a date,” ash snorted. “how many times did simon come up?”

“don’t start this again—“

“because you were literally talking about him other day when we walked by a black and white cat just because it had little ‘socks’ and it reminded you to do laundry when you got back.”

“i promised to do simon’s while he’s been picking up extra hours,” you defended yourself. “he literally had to walk around shirtless the other week when i forgot to add them in for him.”

“oh, the grown woman who can and often does do his own washing just had to walk around with just a flimsy little sports bra and boxers on all day? sure, sure.” you could practically hear ash roll their eyes. emma snickered in the background and there was a slight shuffling which was never a good sign. “yep, here it is. and i quote ‘the way he’s built… like a damn chew toy. need to sink my teeth in to him, it’s like my jaw buzzes every time i see him with the urge to clamp down on his bicep.’ those are your texts to our group chat from that same day.”

“the texts i send when im ovulating should never be repeated out loud,” you hissed. “and do we really need more evidence that he’s synonymous with my wet dreams now, i’ve already admitted that i like him.”

“so you know this is a safe space,” ash said facetiously. “answer the question: how many times do you think you managed to bring him up in conversation?”

you chewed your cheek in frustration. ash would know if you lied but thinking back on it you didn’t really want to admit how many times you managed to bring up simon for your own dignity.

“look they had the same boots on, ok? and when she talked about her work it was the only way i could try to relate if i told her how simon had mentioned the same things,” you reasoned.

ash cackled on the other end of the phone and suddenly emma was talking while their laughter grew faded.

“have you looked at that list i sent you?” she asked, her tone oddly low and sobering.

“yeah, i can’t stop thinking about it,” you huffed. you paused to cross the street. “but it feels like i’m just making them up because i like him and he’s just being a normal roommate.”

“you’re not and he’s definitely not,” emma chuffed. “and i think you know that too.”

you were silent as you walked, your steps slow and careful even as the bitter cold wind snapped at your cheeks.

“he likes me?” you asked softly.

“no duh,” ash’s voice rang from the background making you laugh. they got closer and you could picture your friends crammed on emma’s shitty little couch as they spoke to you. “why do you think he’s always walking around flexing his muscles like that, huh? we’re in manchester, i don’t care if it’s almost summer, it’s not bloody warm enough for it!”

“and simon has you as his lock screen,” emma added like a 1-2 punch before you had chance to try and explain any of it away. “he always cancels on his mates to see you instead, and don’t get me started on how touchy he is with you.”

“he’s tactile…” even as you said it you didn’t believe it. though you couldn’t keep count of how many times this week alone si had let a warm hand land on your shoulder, knee, back, wrist, neck; you knew he barely touched anyone else.

"girl. simon?" emma snorted probably thinking the same thing as you.

“he likes me,” you said more confidently into the phone.

“oh thank fuck, she’s finally caught on,” ash said as emma laughed.

“i could literally be swapping spit with him right now and instead i’ve just wasted like two hours on a shitty date, oh my god,” you bemoaned.

you don’t know when you’d stopped walking but in a second you were speeding up to a jog as you said goodbye to your friends and hung up, fumbling to put your phone in you bag. eager to get back home and to see simon.

——

you crammed your key into the front door’s lock when you got home and groaned exaggeratedly when it didn’t turn. simon must’ve left his key in the door, again. of all the bloody times.

you knocked hurriedly, loudly, impatiently.

“siiiimon, open the door, come on i’m cold out here, you wouldn’t leave me shivering and lonely just because you forgot to put your key on the keyhook i specifically bought for—“ you cut off your joking whine when the most stunningly beautiful woman you’d ever seen opened the door to you, a knowing smile on her plush lips.

“oh,” you croaked. almost reflexively, your throat closed up and your eyes started to sting. “i must have the wrong flat.”

“what? no, you’re—” her smile dropped slightly and her dark eyes grew curious, but you didn’t stick around long enough to see.

“sorry, my fault! i’m meant to be on the floor above,” you rushed out and pretended to laugh. “silly me. sorry again.” tucking tail you turned to the fire exit at the top of the small staircase without waiting for a reply.

you knew the short staircase lead to the roof, simon had shown you one time and there were enough signs pointing it out. on the other side of the door was a small, flat balcony that stuck out of the slanted roof, and had old metal ladders that dropped 3/4 of the way down along the side of the building, in between the detached restaurant next door.

given you were the top flat in this little rinkydink building the woman at your door had probably thought you were an idiot and you couldn’t blame her. you decided to stick it out for ten minutes outside before sneaking back down and heading over to emma’s with your heart in your hands ready to be mended with the power of friendship and alcohol and food.

you sat down on the shitty little balcony and groaned loudly, desperately holding back your tears lest you fell into a despair and ended up accidentally falling asleep out of exhaustion and dramatics up there instead.

you’d finally realised your feelings and it was too late; simon had clearly taken your previous offers on board and moved on. you’d given him a free night while you went on a stupid date, what else was he going to do since you’ve been continually - though not purposely - pushing him aside like he was disposable.

“fuck,” you sighed shakily.

“date that bad you’re thinking of jumping?”

you swore in surprise and span in your spot to see simon leant in the fire exit doorway.

you couldn’t help but huff a weak laugh. “yeah it was,” you said before looking back down to your hands. “sorry, i didn’t know you were busy or i’d have gone to a friend’s instead.”

simon frowned and stood up straight. “stop saying you want to go somewhere else,” he said stiffly, swallowing thickly before taking the few steps to sit next to you. “when i’m here.” he knocked your shoulders together. “gaz said you freaked out at the door?”

you looked up at him in confusion. “gaz? that was ky— she’s called kylie, not kyle isn’t she?” you asked with wide eyes. simon’s accent had hidden her real name and convinced you all his mates were men and you’d never thought to second guess it. “christ, i thought she was— never mind.”

simon tilted his head as a knowing smile grew on his face.

“you thought i’d brought someone round for a shag?”

“well, she’s very fucking gorgeous,” you said defensively, crossing your arms. he leant his weight further into your side.

“mm. haven’t noticed.” at your unimpressed look he shrugged. “got my eye on someone else, ‘aven’t i?”

you nodded but avoided his eyes. seeing an unknown woman answer your door - gaz or not - had knocked your confidence more than you’d have liked to admit.

simon snorted.

“talk t’me, thought i was meant to be the quiet, brooding one.”

you looked across at him for a moment before leaning in to hug him tightly. you let the scent of his aftershave soak in and sighed when his own arms automatically wrapped around you too.

“you’re an amazing friend, si,” you whispered. and with how close you were pressed together, you easily felt how he stiffened at the title. you squeezed him harder in response, garnering yourself some more confidence at the same time, and sucked in a cold breath to speak. “and i think i’m a little bit in love with you.”

you felt a whoosh of air against your neck as the breath left simon’s body; he went loose in your hold and you buried your head deeper into his shoulder.

he tried to catch your eyes, ducking his head as best he could, but you’d thoroughly tucked yourself in against him as you felt a stinging heat spread from your cheeks outwards, your heart kicking its way through your chest and likely thumping noticeably against his own.

with gentle and patient cajoling, he managed to nudge you back up to face him and you offered up a wobbly smile.

“are you serious?” he asked breathlessly.

you nodded. “i’m sorry it took me so long to reali—“

simon coughed out a wet and surprised laugh and pulled you in for a kiss, his scar catching against your dry lips before you were able to slip your tongue out to wet them briefly. his hands were firm as they cupped your round cheeks, not letting you break for a breath until the very last second, determined to take all he could get before it came crashing down on him.

“y’r an idiot, so fuckin into ya. been a nightmare living with you, unable t’touch,” he mumbled against your lips and suddenly it was your turn to laugh into the kiss.

“unable? all you do is touch me,” you giggled, gasping when he took the chance to flick his tongue against yours.

“yeah?”

“yeah,” you huffed. “drives me mad, si.”

“only gonna get worse here on,” he promised. “never taking my hands off ya, off your fat arse and soft tits.”

you sucked in a shaky breath. “fuck.” you’d be dripping like a tap at all times if that was the case and going by simon’s smirk, he knew it.

“i’ve had to deal with your dumb mate fucking teasing me about liking ya for months now too,” he grumbled.

“they’re not dumb.” you leant in to bite his lip meanly. “and i’m sure your friends will be teasing me for what just happened too, never mind me being so blind to be on dating apps while we were practically already together.”

simon groaned. “i fucking hated those apps.”

you kissed him sweetly in apology, a soft peck to the lips then each cheek as he greedily chased your lips.

“they’re gone now. my date was ruined because i could only talk about you the whole time. all i want is you.”

“yeah?” his eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them as he tugged your jacket openand slid a hand under your shirt. his rough fingertips teased at the thin material of your bra and your nipples stood to attention under his ministrations and from the chill of fresh air biting at your tummy, bared when his arm rumpled your shirt. “want me right now?”

“always,” you panted. “but…”

you furtively glanced to the door.

“no one comes up here. i can be quick.”

“your friends are waiting,” you reminded him.

“fuck my friends,” he scoffed and tweaked at a nipple, grinning at the squeak you let out.

“would rather fuck you,” you joked weakly even as he pulled his hand back to pluck at your jean’s button and zipper.

“then what are we waiting for?” he asked.

you moaned and gasped when he slipped his hand down the front gusset of your jeans and into your panties before you gained the cognisance to pull it back out with a groan. “later, later,” you promised. “wanna get you naked.”

simon stared at you for a second and you worried he was annoyed at you for putting your foot down. he nodded however, licked his lips as he glanced back to the door and then dipped down to kiss you lightly.

“i’m kicking the lads out then, gimme five.” he stood and took few broad strides to get back to the stairs inside.

you laughed and called after him as he darted back down, taking two at a time as you followed with a grin, struggling with your jeans. “si, don’t be daft.”

“smartest move i’ve made in a long time.” he said as he walked back in to your flat. “everyone out. want some time wiv my girl.”

“ayy congrats!” soap called from the couch.

“that means now, soap.”

“don’t hafta tell us twice,” the scot stood with a slap to his knees and saluted simon on his way out. “ye coming, ky?”

“it was nice meeting ya,” gaz said as she wandered past, winking. you hid your hot cheeks in your shoulders but couldn’t help the flustered grin that spread as simon barely waited for the door to be closed before shedding his shirt, leaving him in a sports bra and his baggy trackies.

“get comfy. not letting ya leave til i’ve had m’fill.”

“funny you think it won’t be me dragging you back for more. let’s see if you can keep up, si. i’ve been told i’m pretty demanding.”

“always loved a challenge.”

you grinned wickedly. “come and get me then.”

butch/stud masterlist

updated mood board below (kept working on it after seeing kitty’s absolutely fantastic oc mood board and felt inspired by them!)

#BWUH IF U SEE THIS I HOPE U ENJOY FELLOW BUTCH SI LOVER #i was thinking of ur butch art when i said reader ruined simon’s sports bra lmaoooo like let the girls go free simon please!!!#this is so self indulgent but i loved it. like we’re sooo back you guys #of course the title is inspired by a raleigh ritchie song bc i’m obsessed like that #oh EXPECT more of butch simon from here on out #bc this might be the only way i want to fuck him lmaoooo #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #fem ghost #butch ghost #fem simon riley #female simon riley #female ghost #think that’s covered all the tags #female reader #fat reader #butch x reader

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lancestrollsgf · 29 days ago

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# L’IMMACOLATA / CHRISTMAS DECORATING ! LUIGI MANGIONE X READER, WRITTEN

introduction master list request list series masterlist

# WARNINGS: english isn’t my first language (spelling/grammar errors), ooc! luigi (probably?), second person pov, lowercase intended. this is purely a work of fiction and that i do not encourage any criminal acts or acts of violence. (innocent until proven guilty)

# SUMMARY: the first part of decorating for the long-awaited holiday, is finding the green tree to have in the corner of your home. luigi and you have just gotten into a comfortable new york apartment, which now you have to decorate. both of you are now heading to find the perfect tree and decorations to add to your home.

# AUTHORS NOTE: first part of my new series. first time in a while writing an actual story and not an smau so please have mercy on me. this does not follow the current events, his backstory is not really mentioned throughout the story. luigi back issues do not exist in this story or series. definition: L’immacolata is the day that many italians put up Christmas trees and other holiday decorations. i tried to include some italian traditions i found online but had adding them into where i had already written was difficult. (word count: 2083)

the holiday spirit was already settling in, its warmth contrasting with the chilly new york december air. the long-awaited holiday had arrived, and with thanksgiving’s packed away and autumn’s remnants tucked into storage, it was time to transition into the most festive time of the year.

in your cozy new york apartment, you and luigi were ready to start decorating. following italian tradition on december eighth, the first step is to find the perfect christmas tree, to occupy that empty corner in your living room. it was the beginning of a tradition that you both hoped would carry on for years to come.

slipping on your shoes by the door, you glanced up as luigi adjusted his hair in the bathroom mirror. “are you almost ready, amore?” he called, his voice warm as it carried through the apartment.

you tugged your sneaker snugly onto your foot and answered, “yes! i just need to find and pack my bag.”

luigi chuckled softly. “is it not on the bookshelf near the door?”

that would’ve been convenient, but considering your clumsiness, it wasn’t there. frowning, you began scanning the kitchen, retracing your steps from earlier. perhaps you’d set it down while unpacking groceries. luigi soon joined the search, moving past the couch to help. just as you were about to give up and head back to the living room, luigi’s voice rang out victoriously. “i found it!” he held the black handbag up with a smile, crossing the room to hand it to you. “ah, thank you, lu,” you said, relieved. “i just need to check if I’m missing anything.”

while you rummaged through the bag, mentally running through your checklist, luigi sat by the door and laced up his boots. he glanced at you fondly, patiently waiting as you zipped the bag shut and slung it over your shoulder.

“ready?” he asked, standing up and opening the door for you. you nodded, stepping out onto the apartment’s stairwell, and luigi followed close behind. the cold december air greeted you like an icy embrace, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your sweater tighter. sensing your shiver, luigi slipped his arm around your shoulders, drawing you close to his side as you both walked onto the busy street below.

the city was alive with holiday cheer—twinkling lights strung between streetlamps, wreaths hung in shop windows, and the distant hum of carolers blending with the sound of traffic. your destination, a nearby tree farm, had been picked out this morning after scouring reviews and recommendations online. It wasn’t far, just a short walk, and as you approached, the scent of fresh pine reached your noses, filling the air with an unmistakable festive aroma.

“smells like christmas already,” luigi said with a grin, glancing at you as he rubbed his hands together for warmth. you laughed softly, looking around the rows of trees, each one towering and verdant in its unique way. “let’s find the perfect one, lu something that says us.” luigi’s brown eyes sparkled with excitement, and he nodded eagerly. “yes, amore. let’s make it special.”

the scent of pine grew stronger as you and luigi stepped into the tree farm. rows upon rows of evergreen trees stretched out before you, each dusted with a fine layer of frost that glistened in the dim december sunlight. the crisp air nipped at your cheeks, turning them a rosy pink. luigi’s hand found yours, his fingers gently squeezing as he smiled down at you.

“so, amore,” he began, his breath forming little clouds in the cold air, “do we want something big and grand, or small and cozy?”

you chuckled, glancing at the towering trees to your left and the smaller, more modest ones to your right. “hmm… i think something in the middle. big enough to feel festive but not so big that it takes up half the apartment.”

luigi laughed, his warm voice echoing softly in the open space. “good idea. we don’t want to be tripping over branches every time we go to the kitchen.”

the two of you walked through the rows, pausing once in a while to inspect a tree here or there. luigi would point out one with perfectly shaped branches, while you admired another for its rich, deep green color. neither of you could agree right away, but that was part of the fun.

“how about this one?” luigi asked, standing next to a tree that was taller than he was. he reached up and touched one of the branches, which sprang back gently under his gloved fingers. “it’s sturdy, and the branches are full.”

you tilted your head, considering it. “it’s nice, but…” you trailed off, stepping closer to examine the tree. “it might be a bit too tall. remember, we still have to fit the star on top.”

“ah, true,” luigi nodded, scratching the back of his neck. “okay, let’s keep looking.” as the two of you continued searching, you couldn’t help but admire how seriously luigi was taking this. his red christmas hat was slightly askew from all his craning to look at the tops of trees, and his nose was pink from the cold, but his enthusiasm never wavered. he kept turning to you, his excitement infectious as he offered suggestions and shared little jokes to keep you warm.

eventually, you both came across a tree that seemed just right. it was neither too tall nor too small, its branches were lush and even, and it gave off the strongest pine scent of any tree you’d seen so far. you stepped closer, brushing your hand over the needles, which were soft to the touch.

“what do you think, lu?” you asked, turning to him. he knelt slightly to examine the base of the tree, checking the trunk and giving it a gentle shake to see how stable it was. standing back up, he grinned and nodded. “i think we’ve found the one, amore. it’s perfect.”

relief and excitement washed over you. “really? you like it?”

“of course! it’s exactly what we were looking for.” he reached out to take your hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “and if it makes you happy, then i love it even more.” your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “okay then, let’s get it!”

a friendly worker helped wrap the tree for you, and soon enough, you and luigi were carrying it back toward your apartment. the journey wasn’t without its challenges—maneuvering the tree through crowded sidewalks and up the narrow stairwell to your floor had both of you laughing and out of breath by the time you reached the door.

but as you set the tree down in the corner of the living room and stepped back to admire it, you knew it was worth every bit of effort.

luigi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “there we go, amore. step one of decorating done.” you leaned into him, smiling as the scent of fresh pine filled the apartment. “it’s already starting to feel like christmas.”

you and luigi stood in the living room, admiring the tree now firmly in place. the scent of pine filled the apartment, the tree’s presence filling the space with warmth despite the cold december chill still lingering outside.

“well, amore,” luigi began, grinning as he stepped back to survey the tree, “step one is done. now, we make it shine.”

you nodded, your excitement growing. “yes! let’s go get some decorations.”

after a quick glance around the apartment to make sure everything was in order, the two of you bundled up again and made your way out into the crisp air, walking to the nearest shop that was known for having a lovely selection of holiday decorations.

the store was small but filled with the kind of charm that made it feel like it belonged in a cozy winter wonderland. sparkling garlands and glittering ornaments lined the shelves, while warm lights twinkled from every corner. you both instantly felt the festive magic in the air as you wandered inside.

“okay, what do we need first?” luigi asked, rubbing his hands together to keep warm as he looked around at the colorful decorations. his red hat seemed to glow in the warmth of the shop’s lights, and his excitement was contagious.

you thought for a moment, eyes scanning the shelves. “we need a star for the top, and definitely some lights. the tree needs to sparkle.”

luigi grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. “oh, definitely some lights. and I think we could use some ornaments that represent... us.”

you smiled, already imagining how to make the tree feel personal, something that would reflect both of your tastes and personalities. you were already picturing small touches—maybe a little Italian flag ornament, or something playful to remind you of your time together.

the two of you moved down the aisles, carefully picking out a few strands of twinkling lights—warm white to match the cozy atmosphere—and then you began your hunt for ornaments.

“how about these?” luigi asked, holding up a set of small gold bells. “they remind me of home.”

you nodded, picking them up from his hands. “they’re perfect. let’s get them.”

as you walked through the aisles, you both added ornaments to the basket—a tiny wooden reindeer, a few delicate snowflakes, and some simple glass baubles in shades of red, green, and gold. each item felt like it would add another layer of warmth and personality to your tree.

finally, you reached the section for tree toppers, and your eyes immediately landed on a beautiful silver star that glittered in the light.

“this is it, lu,” you said, reaching for the star. “this is exactly what we need.”

“perfect,” luigi agreed, nodding with a smile. “it’s going to look amazing.”

after picking up a few more decorative touches, including a set of gold ribbons to add to the tree and a couple of festive-scented candles, you and luigi made your way to the checkout. you couldn’t help but smile as he carefully packed the decorations into the bag, his usual careful attention to detail making the whole experience even more special.

once back at the apartment, the two of you worked together to decorate the tree, the entire process feeling like a warm, joyful collaboration.

first, you wrapped the tree with lights, careful not to leave any gaps or let them tangle. luigi passed you ornaments as you decorated, his gloved hands gently handing you each one as if it was a treasure. “this one goes here,” he said, carefully placing a small red ornament on a branch near the top. “what do you think, amore?”

“i love it,” you said, stepping back to admire the progress. “everything looks so perfect.”

next, you added the ribbons, winding them gently around the branches. with each layer of decoration, the tree began to take on a life of its own, growing more beautiful with every passing moment.

finally, it was time for the star. you stood on a chair to reach the top, carefully placing it atop the tree. luigi’s face lit up as you stepped back, both of you admiring the finished product.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe. “just like we imagined.”

“i couldn’t agree more,” luigi said, his arm wrapping around you. “it’s beautiful.”

you stood there for a few moments, just taking in the sight of your tree glowing softly in the corner of the room. the lights sparkled, the ornaments glimmered, and the tree felt like a little piece of holiday magic that you had created together.

“so,” luigi said after a long pause, “what’s next? do we start baking cookies, or maybe light some candles?”

“cookies,” you replied immediately, grinning. “cookies are essential. but maybe first, let’s make some hot chocolate to keep us warm.”

“hot chocolate it is,” he agreed, laughing as he headed to the kitchen to get started. “this holiday is going to be amazing.”

you watched him walk away, heart full of love as you took in the glow of the tree. it wasn’t just the lights that made the apartment feel special—it was the way you and luigi worked together, making this place feel like home, like it was already filled with all the joy and warmth of the holiday season.

this was only the beginning, and you couldn’t wait to see what the rest of the season had in store.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

part two of the series coming out soon. happy holidays :) comment on the series master list to be tagged! (commenting here is okay as well)

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castleexpress · 1 month ago

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ramseyselfstorage · 3 months ago

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wolverigrl · 4 months ago

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Party (2)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Please don’t be mad at me, but I think there will only be 1 or 2 (maximum 3) other parts of this fanfic! Thank you all for your support, love, and comments! Much love! xx

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, alcohol and nausea, angst!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

---------------------------------------------------

"What if you were pregnant?"

he asks suddenly, his voice quiet, almost hesitant.

I blink, the question catching me of guard. "What?"

He shrugs, though there's a serious look in his eyes. "I mean, what if you were? What would you think? We've joked about it before, but... I'm asking for real."

For a second, I don't know what to say. The thought had crossed my mind before, but hearing him say it out loud makes my heart skip a beat.

"I think I'd be happy." I say softly, searching his face. "I mean I love kids and if it happened, if we ended up with one, especially with you.." I pause, a smile tugging at my lips. "It'd be like winning the lottery. You're the most amazing dad."

His eyes soften, his thumb gently caressing my cheek. "You really think so?"

"I know so." I say, my voice steady now.

"I see how you are with your kids, how you care. You're perfect. And if it happened... it wouldn't scare me. Not with you."

For a moment, he just looks at me. His expression unreadable. Then, he leans down and presses a soft lingering kiss to my lips.

"You amaze me everytime baby." He murmurs against my skin.

The music was still thumping softly as Hugh and I made our way back to the party after our little escape to the storage room. The air felt lighter between us, the tension gone, but the heat still lingered. I caught Hugh’s eye, and he gave me a playful smirk, his hand resting protectively on the small of my back as we rejoined the crowd. I felt a little flushed, still high from everything that had just happened. His shirt was slightly rumpled, and I knew my lipstick had to be smudged from where I’d kissed him.

It didn’t take long for someone to notice. Ryan and Blake were sitting near the bar, chatting with some of the stragglers who remained. The moment we approached, Ryan's sharp gaze caught the lipstick stain on Hugh’s neck, and he raised an eyebrow. Blake followed his gaze and let out a knowing giggle.

"Well, well, look who’s been busy!" Ryan said with that signature mischievous smirk of his. He pointed at Hugh’s neck, leaning forward with a mock-serious expression. "You’ve got a little something there, mate. Lipstick, hickeys... did someone interrupt you?"

Blake playfully slapped Ryan’s arm, trying to hold back her laughter. “Come on, give them a break. It’s her birthday!” she teased, winking at me. “Though, you guys could be a little more discreet.”

I laughed, the alcohol still buzzing through my veins, making everything feel funnier than it probably was. “Oh, come on! Like you and Ryan haven’t snuck off at a party before.”

Blake threw her head back in a dramatic laugh. “Touché.”

Hugh, ever the composed one, just chuckled and shook his head, his arm tightening around me. “What can I say? You know how it is. She’s irresistible.”

Ryan held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not judging. If anything, I’m impressed. Just don’t blame us if Chris or Scott see you and start giving you a hard time.”

The party had thinned out, most people either drunk or already heading home. I could feel my legs wobbling a bit more than before, the room starting to spin slightly. I had drunk a lot tonight, more than I probably should have. The champagne, the cocktails, the shots - especially the shots with Chris and Scott. I swayed on my feet, leaning heavily into Hugh for support.

“I think it’s time to get you home.” Hugh whispered into my ear, his voice filled with warmth but tinged with concern.

I pouted, not ready for the night to end, my mind still in a drunken haze.

“Nooo, I’m fine! Let’s dance more!” I slurred, tugging at his shirt, my hands brushing over his chest. My fingers wandered lower, more out of impulse than intent, but Hugh caught my wrists gently, chuckling at my tipsy boldness.

“Love, you’re completely wasted.” he said softly, his voice full of amusement. “I’m here sobering up, and you… well, you’re ready to pass out.”

I frowned up at him, my body warm and heavy with alcohol. “I’m not ready to go!” I protested weakly, though my words were slurred, and I could feel my body growing sluggish.

Hugh just smiled, ever patient. “I know you’re having fun, but it’s time. Let’s get you home.”

I tried again, tugging at his collar playfully, but Hugh was already maneuvering us toward the exit, his arm wrapped securely around me to keep me from stumbling. I could feel my legs giving out beneath me, but Hugh, ever steady, guided me gently, never letting me fall.

Ryan and Blake followed close behind as we stumbled our way outside, where a cab was already waiting. “Need some help getting her in?” Ryan asked, though I could hear the amusement in his voice. He was clearly enjoying my drunken state a little too much.

Hugh shook his head, already opening the door and helping me inside. “I’ve got it. She’s just affectionate when she’s drunk.”

Ryan snorted. “Affectionate is one word for it.”

Blake laughed, climbing into the cab after me. “Come on, let’s get you home before you start a new round of inappropriate touching.”

“You’re doing God’s work, Hugh.” Ryan said, a grin on his face as we closed the doors. “Getting this one home in one piece.”

Hugh just laughed. "I'm sure it won’t be the last time."

I put my head on Hugh’s shoulder and put my arms around him, trying to pull him as close as possible to me.

"Baby, I'm still not tired." I slurred, my fingers running over the buttons of his shirt again.

Hugh just shook his head with a soft chuckle, gently catching my hands and keeping them still. “Sure you’re not.” he said, his voice full of warmth and amusement. “But let’s get you home, and we’ll see how awake you are then.”

Once we were settled, the cool night air and the soft hum of the car's engine started to lull me into a sleepy daze. I slumped against Hugh’s chest, my head heavy on his shoulder. The warmth of his body, combined with the gentle rocking of the cab, had my eyelids drooping almost instantly. I could feel Hugh’s hand stroking my hair, his fingers running through the strands in a soothing rhythm.

“Shh, just rest. I’ve got you.” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. I sighed, my body sinking further into his embrace, completely safe and content.

The next thing I knew, we were home. I barely registered the door opening or the cool breeze as Hugh scooped me up into his arms. My head lolled against his chest as he carried me inside, his steps quiet and careful.

“I can walk..” I mumbled, though my body betrayed me, limp and uncooperative.

Hugh just chuckled softly. “Sure you can, love. Just relax.”

He carried me up the stairs to our bedroom, laying me gently on the bed. I was half-awake now, my mind hazy but aware enough to realize I was still in my dress. I groaned, trying to kick off my shoes but failing miserably.

“Let me help.” Hugh said, kneeling beside the bed. He removed my shoes and then gently tugged at the zipper of my dress, helping me out of it with a tenderness that made my heart swell even in my drunken state. I managed to help him pull one of his T-shirts over my head, the soft fabric comforting against my skin.

As he tucked me under the covers, I reached for his hand, my fingers curling around his. “Thank you.” I mumbled, my eyes barely open. “I love you.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I love you too, y/n. Get some rest.”

I fell asleep almost instantly, the last thing I felt being Hugh’s warm lips pressing a kiss to my forehead.

The next morning, I woke up with a groan, my stomach twisting unpleasantly. The light streaming through the curtains felt too bright, and the pounding in my head made me wince. But worse than the headache was the nausea rolling through me in waves. I barely had time to think before I shot out of bed, racing toward the bathroom.

I barely made it to the toilet before I started throwing up, my body heaving violently as I emptied the contents of my stomach. I felt someone rush in behind me, and then Hugh was there, his hands holding back my hair, his voice soft and full of concern.

“Shh, I’m here. It’s okay, I’ve got you.” he whispered, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back as I retched again.

Once I finished, I collapsed back against him, my body weak and shaking. He handed me a glass of water, helping me sip it slowly.

“You okay?” he asked gently, his eyes scanning my face for any signs of distress.

I nodded weakly, though I felt far from okay. “I feel like death.”

Hugh chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to my temple. “That’s what happens when you drink half the bar with your friends.”

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. “Never again. I am never drinking like that again.”

Hugh smiled knowingly, helping me to my feet and guiding me back to the bed. “You say that now, but we both know you’ll forget by the next party.”

I shook my head, wincing as the movement made my headache worse. “No, I mean it this time.”

“Alright, I’ll hold you to it.” he teased, pulling the blankets up around me. “I’m going to make breakfast. Try to rest for a bit.”

I nodded, sinking back into the pillows, my stomach still churning. Hugh kissed my forehead again before leaving the room. I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would take me again, but the nausea was relentless. Hugh disappeared into the kitchen, and I could hear the faint clinking of pots and pans.

After a few minutes of lying there, my stomach still swirling, I figured it was better trying to eat something than to keep lying there feeling like death. I dragged myself out of bed again, my legs shaky but steady enough to make it to the kitchen.

Ryan, Blake, and Hugh were already there when I entered, laughing about something I couldn’t quite catch. Ryan was standing at the stove, poking at a pan of sizzling bacon, the smell instantly hitting me like a wave. My stomach churned violently, and without a word, I turned on my heel and rushed back to the bathroom, the nausea hitting me harder than before.

I barely made it to the toilet before I started throwing up again. It was worse this time - my stomach heaving painfully as I coughed and retched, bile burning in my throat. I collapsed to my knees, clutching the sides of the toilet as my body shook. I heard soft footsteps behind me, and this time it was Blake who appeared, crouching down beside me, rubbing my back as I tried to catch my breath.

“Oh honey, that doesn’t sound good..” Blake said gently, her hand moving in soothing circles on my back. “Take deep breaths.”

I nodded weakly, leaning back against the wall as I wiped my mouth with the tissue she handed me. I felt shaky, weak, and utterly miserable.

Blake glanced toward the door before looking back at me with a concerned frown. “Are you sure this is just a hangover?”

I blinked at her, my head still spinning, my stomach twisting with the aftermath of throwing up again. “What else would it be?” I muttered weakly, closing my eyes for a moment to block out the light.

Blake hesitated, biting her lip. “Well… you know, it could be something else.” She paused, watching me carefully. “Y/n, have you thought about doing a pregnancy test?”

Her words cut through the fog in my brain, and I blinked at her, the thought landing like a rock in my stomach. Pregnant? The idea seemed so far-fetched, so out of place, that for a moment I just stared at her, trying to process what she was saying.

“No. ” I said, my voice hoarse. “I mean, I had my period last week, so I can't be.. you know.. It’s just a hangover.”

Blake’s frown deepened, her hand still rubbing my back. “That’s not always a guarantee. Some women still get light bleeding in early pregnancy.” She tilted her head slightly, her eyes soft but serious. “You’ve been really sensitive to smells, throwing up, and you’ve been more emotional than usual… It might be worth taking a test, just to rule it out.”

I sat there, blinking at her, trying to process her words through the fog of nausea and the pounding in my head. The idea seemed so absurd that I almost wanted to laugh, but at the same time there was a small, nagging feeling in the back of my mind. Could she be right? Could all of this be something more than just a brutal hangover?

Blake gave me a soft, encouraging smile. “Look, I’ll grab a test later today. Just to be sure. You never know.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “I-I don’t know, Blake. It seems unlikely. I mean, we’ve been careful. Mostly.”

Blake raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Mostly?”

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling unsure. Had we been careful enough? The thought sent a ripple of nerves through me, and I suddenly felt a little more sober than I had just a few moments ago.

Blake squeezed my shoulder gently. “Don’t stress about it, okay? Let’s just check later, and if it’s nothing, then it’s nothing.”

I nodded slowly, still feeling a little dazed. “Okay,” I whispered. “Just to be sure.”

Blake smiled warmly and helped me up, steadying me as I wobbled on my feet. We made our way back to the kitchen, where Ryan was still standing over the stove, flipping the bacon with a grin on his face.

“There she is! Feeling better?” he asked with a laugh, glancing over his shoulder.

The moment the smell of the bacon hit me again, my stomach lurched violently. I pressed my hand over my mouth, barely managing to shake my head before I turned and bolted back to the bathroom. This time, Blake was right behind me, rubbing my back again as I heaved into the toilet for the third time that morning.

When I finally stopped, I collapsed back against the wall, my body trembling with exhaustion. Blake knelt beside me, her expression serious this time. “Okay, y/n. We’re definitely getting that pregnancy test.”

Blake and I stepped back into the kitchen after my second round of nausea, and the moment we entered, the smell of bacon hit me like a wall. I flinched, my stomach rolling violently. Blake was quick to jump in, giving Ryan a pointed look.

“Ryan, put the bacon away. Please.” Blake said, her tone somewhere between commanding and concerned.

Ryan raised his eyebrows, clearly confused, but he nodded, lifting the pan off the stove. “Alright, alright!” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “No more bacon. I thought we were having the classic hangover cure breakfast, but I guess not.” He shot me a teasing grin, but I could barely manage a smile in return. I still felt nauseous, and the smell lingered in the air like a bad joke.

“Thanks..” I muttered, sitting down slowly at the kitchen table. The wooden chair felt unusually hard beneath me, and the room swayed slightly as I rested my head in my hands. The world felt too bright, too loud.

Hugh, who had been standing near the counter, came over and placed a hand on my shoulder. His eyes were filled with concern. “You alright?” he asked softly, crouching down so that he was level with me.

I glanced up at him, forcing a weak smile. “Yeah, just a huge hungover.”

But Hugh wasn’t convinced. His brow furrowed, and he leaned in closer. “You sure it’s just the hangover? You haven’t been able to keep anything down since you woke up.”

Before I could answer, Blake chimed in, her voice light but purposeful. “Maybe we should all skip the bacon for now and just go for something lighter.” She glanced at Ryan, who finally relented, wrapping the bacon up and placing it in the fridge.

Ryan, with his usual flair for dramatics, gave a mock sigh. “Fine, fine. Guess we’re having toast and eggs then. Maybe some fruit if you’re feeling fancy.”

Blake shot him a grateful smile, but I could still see the concern lurking behind her eyes as she glanced at me again. We both knew there might be something more going on.

Hugh stood up, but he didn’t stray far. I could feel his eyes on me, the warmth of his hand still lingering on my shoulder. “You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, his voice quieter this time, more intimate. He knew me too well. He knew when something was off.

I looked up at him, my heart clenching slightly. There was something about the way he was looking at me - so protective, so deeply caring - that made my throat tighten. “I’m okay, I promise.” I said softly, but the words felt hollow, even to me.

Blake cleared her throat, sensing the tension. “Let’s just have breakfast!” she said brightly, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Ryan to start serving up the toast and eggs.

The four of us settled down around the table, the atmosphere easing up a bit as we started to eat. But I could still feel Hugh’s eyes on me from time to time, his silent concern hanging in the air between us. I tried to ignore it, focusing instead on the food in front of me, though every bite felt like a chore.

Blake glanced at me after breakfast, a knowing look in her eyes. The subtle exchange between us was enough to make my stomach twist. We both knew what we needed to do, but there was no easy way to get through it - especially with Hugh and Ryan lingering around.

“I’ll go grab something at the drug store.” Blake said, her voice calm but determined. She stood from the table, adjusting her sweater as if she was about to run a quick errand.

Ryan looked up from his phone, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you need to grab? You just went grocery shopping.”

Hugh chimed in. “Yeah, Blake, what secret are you hiding from us? If you’re buying ice cream and not sharing, we’re going to have a serious problem.”

Blake rolled her eyes but smiled, her hands resting on her hips. “You boys and your ice cream obsession. It’s nothing - just girl stuff. Nothing to worry about.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious but too lazy to press further. Hugh, however, looked from Blake to me, his concern still evident.

Blake waved them off with a casual laugh. “You three just stay here and look after y/n!” Her tone was light, but I could tell she was eager to get out the door before they asked more questions.

Ryan leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Alright, but if you come back with some girly drama that needs solving, I’m out. Hugh, it’s all on you, man.”

Hugh gave a half-smile, but his eyes remained on me, his concern still present even as Blake slipped out the door. The boys didn’t ask any more questions, and I was grateful for Blake’s smooth distraction.

While Blake was out, the rest of us stayed in the kitchen, casually cleaning up and chatting about the party last night. Ryan, as usual, kept things light with his jokes, but Hugh’s attention would drift back to me every now and then. I could feel it, the quiet, worried glances he gave me when he thought I wasn’t looking. My stomach churned - not just from the remnants of the hangover, but from the anxiety creeping up inside me.

When Blake returned, she had a small paper bag in her hand. She slipped it into her purse quickly, her movements smooth, as if she’d done this a hundred times. She didn’t say anything right away, just casually joined the conversation as if nothing had happened.

Hugh looked up from his spot at the table. “You’re back quick. Everything okay?”

Blake smiled brightly, her eyes flicking to me for the briefest of moments before turning her attention back to Hugh. “Yup! Everything’s good.” She clapped her hands together, clearly ready to move things along. “Alright, boys, let’s set up a movie or something. How about we go pick something out?”

Ryan groaned. “Ugh, really? But not another rom-com, Blake!”

She laughed and grabbed him by the arm, leading him and the others out of the kitchen. “I’ll even let you pick, Ryan. But you’re banned from all superhero movies, deal?”

I watched as Blake expertly herded them into the living room, leaving me alone with the test still hidden in the bag. My hands were trembling slightly, the weight of what was about to happen starting to settle in.

The bathroom felt impossibly small, the silence pressing in on me as I stared down at the pregnancy test in my hand. My fingers trembled as I looked at it, my reflection in the mirror barely recognizable. I was almost 30 years old. That thought kept echoing in my mind, louder and louder, until it drowned out everything else.

My heart raced, pounding in my chest like it wanted to escape.

I couldn’t stop the whirlwind of thoughts. How would Hugh react? He was already a father - his kids adored him. But this… this would be our child. Our baby. The idea of it thrilled me, but it also terrified me. I hadn’t expected this, not so soon. Not after one and a half years. My stomach twisted at the thought, nerves gnawing at the edges of my excitement.

What about my family? My mother would be overjoyed, but what would she think of me having a baby with Hugh? And my friends - they had no idea what was coming. Could I even handle all of their opinions? I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to steady myself.

Two minutes. I just needed to get through these two minutes.

The timer buzzed, and I hesitated, my heart pounding in my ears as I reached for the test.

Two lines.

For a second, everything froze. I couldn’t process it. I'm pregnant. I was actually pregnant.

My knees felt weak, and I leaned against the sink, trying to catch my breath. A mixture of disbelief and joy surged through me, but beneath that, fear crept in. This was real. It was happening. I had to tell Hugh.

I left the bathroom, the positive test still clutched in my hand. Blake was waiting near the door, her eyes searching mine. She didn’t need words - she knew. I gave her a weak smile, and she nodded, offering silent support. But I couldn’t stay here with her. I had to talk to Hugh, had to tell him.

As I walked into the living room, I saw Hugh sitting on the couch with Ryan, both of them laughing over some joke. My stomach fluttered nervously. How could I tell him? How could I explain that everything was about to change? I cleared my throat, my voice barely steady as I said, “Hugh, can we talk?”

Ryan, always the joker, raised an eyebrow. “Uh oh, bedroom conversation time? I’m sure nothing serious, right?” His tone was light, teasing, but I barely registered it. My heart was too heavy, too full of what I had to say.

Hugh noticed my tone and immediately stood up, his smile fading into concern. “What’s wrong, love?” he asked, his voice gentle as he approached me.

I managed to smile, but it felt fragile, like glass about to break. “Can we talk in the bedroom?” I repeated, trying to keep my nerves in check.

Ryan chuckled as he leaned back on the couch. “Sure, just leave the door open so I can hear all the juicy details!”

Hugh shot him a look but followed me into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. As soon as we were alone, I felt the full weight of what I was about to say, and it hit me like a wave.

I started pacing, my mind racing, words tumbling out of my mouth without making sense. “You know I've been feeling weird for a while now.. and I thought it was from drinking too much last night and because if my period but it wasn’t, and now I don’t know how to say this, I-”

“Y/n.” Hugh interrupted, his voice calm but full of concern. He stepped closer, his hands gently resting on my arms to still me. “Hey, you’re scaring me. Just tell me. What’s going on?”

I met his gaze, my heart pounding. I took a deep breath, feeling the tears start to sting the back of my eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

The room fell into an almost deafening silence as Hugh stared at me, his expression unreadable at first. My stomach flipped, unsure of what he would say, how he would react. Seconds ticked by, feeling like an eternity. Was he shocked? Was he upset?

Then, slowly, his face broke into the widest smile I had ever seen. “Wait… you’re pregnant? You’re serious?”

I nodded, biting my lip, feeling my own emotions teetering on the edge. His hands moved from my arms to my waist, and before I knew it, he was lifting me off the ground, swirling me around in a tight circle. I laughed, clinging to him as he spun us around.

“Oh my God!” he exclaimed, still holding me tightly. “We’re having a baby!” His voice was filled with pure joy, and my heart soared.

“Hugh!” I laughed, trying to catch my breath as he set me back on my feet, both of us giddy with happiness. “I can’t believe this is real.”

He cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “You’re amazing.” he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion. “This is the best news I’ve ever heard. We’re going to have a baby.” His eyes were shining, and I could see how much this meant to him, how deeply it touched him.

I felt the sob building in my chest and buried my face against his chest, my body trembling as I cried.

A sudden realization hit me like a ton of bricks. My body tensed as the memory of last night's party flooded back - how much I had drunk, how wild everything had been. My breath caught in my throat, and I pulled back, staring up at Hugh with wide, panicked eyes.

"Oh my God, Hugh!" I whispered, my voice shaky. "I-I was drinking. I got wasted last night, and I’m pregnant! What if I hurt the baby? What if- "

“Hey, hey, love.” Hugh interrupted gently, cupping my face in his hands, his eyes full of warmth and reassurance. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”

“But- ” I started, my chest tightening with anxiety. "What if something’s wrong? I should have been more careful, but I didn’t even think- "

“Shh..” he soothed, pulling me even closer. His voice was soft but firm. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was one night, and the baby is going to be fine. We’ll see the doctor, and everything will be okay. You’re healthy, and the baby will be, too.”

I blinked up at him, still feeling that knot of fear twisting in my stomach. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive.” he said, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I love you so much.” he murmured, his lips pressing softly against my forehead. “I can’t believe it.”

“I love you too.” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know how you’d react. I was so nervous.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes still shining with unshed tears as he kissed me softly, tenderly, over and over. “How could I not be happy?” he whispered. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted with you.”

I smiled through my tears, my heart swelling with love for him. “I was so scared.”

“I know.” he murmured, his fingers gently brushing through my hair. “But we’re in this together, always.”

After a moment, he pulled me back just enough to look into my eyes. “Wait... is this why Blake went out earlier? To get a test?”

I nodded, laughing softly. “Yeah, she knew I needed to find out.”

Hugh chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m going to have to thank her later!”

I wiped at my face, feeling lighter, freer than I had in hours. “We should tell Ryan and Blake.” I said softly.

Hugh smiled, his thumb brushing over my cheek. “Yeah, let’s tell them.”

We called out to Ryan and Blake, who came into the bedroom looking curious. Ryan, as always, was already grinning, clearly suspicious that something was up.

“Alright, what’s the big secret?” Ryan asked, crossing his arms with a mock-serious expression. “You two have been waaaay too quiet!”

Hugh and I exchanged a look, and then I took a deep breath before saying, “We have some news... I’m pregnant!”

Ryan’s eyes widened for a second, and then that trademark grin of his spread across his face. “Well damn, Hugh, looks like you’ve got pretty good aim!”

Blake slapped his arm, but she was laughing, tears already welling up in her eyes. “Ryan, stop it!” she scolded, though her smile was just as wide.

Ryan chuckled, shaking his head. “Seriously, though, congrats, you two. That’s incredible!” He pulled Hugh into a hug, then turned to me, his expression softening. “You’re gonna be amazing at this.”

Blake immediately rushed to hug me, her voice quiet and full of emotion. “I’m so happy for you! And I'm so proud of you!” she whispered. “This is huge.”

I smiled, hugging her back tightly. “Thank you, Blake. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

As we all sat down, the conversation naturally shifted to the baby, to the future. Hugh held my hand the entire time, his thumb brushing back and forth over my skin as we talked about doctor’s appointments, ultrasounds, and everything that was to come. Through it all, I felt Hugh’s love and excitement radiating from him. And I knew, without a doubt, that everything would be okay. We were going to be a family.

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