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mugglebornmarvelite · 20 days ago

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Mission Mishap

Paring: Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Avenger! Fem! Reader (Grumpy x Sunshine)

Summary: A recon mission gone awry leads to Bucky having to protect his sunshine. As the snowstorm gets worse, he becomes her shelter from the storm, showing a tenderness that he rarely allows others to see.

Word Count: Roughly 1.8k

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, fluff, injury-related pain, bruising, cold exposure, mild language (like two curse words)

Author’s Note: It was snowing, and I got ✨inspired✨

This felt a little choppy because I combined two drabbles, but I think it works :)

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What should have been a quick recon in the mountains became more complicated when a snowstorm hit faster and harder than previously anticipated. You could barely keep up with Bucky as he pushed ahead, his sharp eyes scanning the nearby. The cold penetrated through your layers; gnawing at your bones and intensifying the ache of your bruises, but you forced yourself to keep moving.

"Can you handle a few more yards?" he asked, his voice low, and despite the chaos, was comforting. "Map says there’s a hostel a quarter of a mile away."

"I’m fine," you mumbled. You knew your words were merely a weak attempt to reassure both yourself and him.

Bucky turned his head toward you, his gaze softening.

"Don’t do that," he replied. "Stop pretending you’re fine when you’re so clearly not."

The harsh wind bit at your face, and you tried to keep up with him, you couldn't hide the way your teeth chattered.

"You need to stop," Bucky said, voice sharp and authoritative. "You’re shaking like a leaf. Let me help you."

Before you could argue, he moved without hesitation, shedding his jacket in one smooth motion and draping it over your shoulders.

"Come here," Bucky said. "No arguments. You’re freezing, and I won’t let it get worse."

You tried to protest as you stammered, "I-I’m fine. Really, Bucky, I’m fine."

But Bucky wasn’t having it.

His glared down and you and you looked away.

"No, you’re not," he said again, this time softer. "You’re going to listen to me now, okay?"

He didn’t wait for a response. He wrapped his arms around you, guiding your arms around his neck and lifting you without much effort. You buried your face in the crook of his neck as you gave up on protesting. His body heat radiated through his sweater and the warm jacket he wrapped you in helped in instantly melting away the cold that had settled into your bones.

Bucky’s chest rose and fell under you, steady and reassuring, grounding you as the world around you spun with snow, harsh winds making it difficult to see. He held you close, his grip never wavering as if to say he wasn’t letting go, not for anything.

"You listen to me," he said said softly. "If anything happens to you out here, I’m going to be fucking pissed. Understand?"

"Noted," you said softly, your voice muffled by his neck. You tightened your grip on him, clinging to him as your life depended on it because, in a way, it did. Not that you’d ever complain.

You could feel his steady heartbeat, the way his breath slowed as he focused on getting you both to safety. His steps were purposeful, unhurried, but determined as he carried you toward the small hostel.

When you finally reached the building, Bucky didn’t waste a second. Without a word, he guided you inside and he gently set you down on a chair. The warmth of the room feeling like a stark contrast to the biting cold that had gripped you just moments before. Pun intended.

"You stay here," he commanded, his voice brooking no argument. "I’ll get us a room and call the team."

You nodded.

As he moved to make arrangements, you wrapped yourself tightly in his jacket, the faint scent of him still lingering on the fabric.

You winced from the pain in your side, but you manged to stay still. You looked out the window, watching as the storm raged on.

When Bucky returned, he didn’t waste any time sitting next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side.

"Better?" he asked.

You leaned into him, letting the comfort of his presence envelop you.

"Yeah," you said softly. "Much better. Thanks, Bucky."

"You don’t have to thank me," he muttered, his voice low, almost intimate. "I’m just doing what’s right. Keeping you safe."

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into the warmth of his embrace. "I know," you whispered, your voice quiet but filled with gratitude. "And I’m glad you’re here."

Bucky’s fingers brushed through your hair, his protective grip never faltering. "And I’m not going anywhere," he murmured.

A moment later, he scooped you up effortlessly, carrying you to the room he booked and dumping you on the bed. The sudden motion made you giggle as you kicked off your boots.

Bucky turned up the heat, and as the warmth began to fill the room, you settled onto the covers.

"What did the team say?" you asked quietly.

"They’ll try to make it tonight," he replied. "But I told them we can wait until the morning."

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. "Why?"

"Because I’m keeping you safe tonight," he murmured, quickly adding, "And Sam snores. I can hear him from two rooms down the hall. I’m in no rush to go home, sunshine."

You laughed softly, your eyes brightening. "You’re unbelievable, Bucky."

Bucky grinned, his usual grumpy expression softened. "Yeah, but you’re stuck with me."

"Seriously though," he said, his voice suddenly quieter, "I’m not letting anything happen to you. Not on my watch."

"I know," you whispered, your voice soft but filled with sincerity. "And I trust you."

His eyes softened, just for a moment, before he cleared his throat and pulled away slightly, pretending to be unaffected by the vulnerability in the air.

“Hey,” he muttered, his voice hushed and rough with concern. He paused for a moment as if considering whether to push or back off. He couldn’t ever quite figure out how to balance his protective nature. But when it came to you, he couldn’t help himself. “You sure you’re okay?”

You forced a smile, shifting a little more, trying to get comfortable, but the throbbing in your side was relentless. The last thing you wanted was for him to notice. He already had enough on his shoulders; you wouldn’t let him add your worries to his pile.

“I’m fine,” you whispered. Lie.

"Bullshit," he grumbled, his voice laced with frustration, the one that surfaced when he cared too much and couldn’t fix things fast enough. "What’s the matter?"

Bucky stared at you, his eyes narrowing.

God, that stare.

It was like he could read every inch of your soul, and you couldn’t breathe under the weight of it.

“Talk to me.”

You shifted uncomfortably, your side flaring up in protest. You winced, sucking in a sharp breath, hoping he didn’t notice, but of course, he did.

He always noticed when it came to his sunshine.

"My side. Just a little pain," you admitted, the bruise hidden under the layers of clothing you still wore.

Bucky’s face softened, his worry evident. Without a word, he stood up, reaching for the small medical kit in his bag.

"Lift your shirt," he said, his voice low but commanding.

"I'm fine-" You mumbled.

But Bucky wasn’t one to back down. He crouched in front of you, his large hands already moving to your waist, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt with a touch that was far too tender for someone like him.

“Lift.” The word was soft, but there was a dangerous edge to it, a warning wrapped in affection. The way he said it made it clear that this was happening.

You frowned and you raised the hem of your shirt, exposing the tender spot on your side where the impact from earlier had left its mark. "Shh, sunshine." He whispers soothingly. "You're okay, promise."

Bucky’s hands were gentle as he inspected the injury, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, and his touch was careful but sure. There was something tender about the way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. It made you lightheaded.

“Doesn’t look too bad,” he muttered, though you could hear the underlying concern in his tone. “But we’re still gonna clean it up, yeah?”

His brow furrowed, and for a moment, his expression softened into something that hurt to look at.

Like you meant something to him.

The second his fingers brushed over your side, just lightly grazing the bruise, you couldn’t help it. A whimper escaped, and your body tensed. You hated it. Hated being weak.

“Shh.” His voice was soothing. “You’re doing so good.”

You tried to move, to escape the pressure, but Bucky’s hand was already on your abdomen, holding you gently but firmly in place. His fingers splayed out over your skin, not forceful, but steady.

“Sorry,” you muttered, your voice strained as another wave of pain hit and you squirmed.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Bucky murmured, his grip tightening just a little, his other hand reaching for the antiseptic wipe. "Just breathe for me, okay?"

Something about his voice, soft yet commanding, made the tension in your body ease just enough for you to inhale deeply, to steady yourself.

“You’re tough, sunshine,” Bucky murmured, his eyes softening even more as he cleaned the bruise. "You’ll be alright."

But his voice held a gentleness that made your heartache. As he worked, cleaning the wound, his touch was slow, deliberate. The sting from the wipe was sharp, but his hands on your skin were grounding, like he was pulling the pain out of you with every careful movement.

Every time you whimpered, every time the pain made itself known, he soothed you with gentle words,“I know, sunshine, I got you,” “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

He cleaned the wound with slow, careful movements. The cool, sterile wipe stung a little, but his gentle touch was soothing, making the discomfort easier to bear.

“I got you.” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. A calm anchor. “Just breathe, sunshine.”

And you did.

When he finally finished, he leaned back and reached for a bandage. He pressed the bandage against your side like he was trying to heal something deeper than the bruise, something you couldn’t name.

“Good as new.” His voice was softer now. “You’re tough, sunshine. You’ll be alright.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing the edge of the bandage. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled, but there was no bite to it. His gruffness was a comfort, like a wall of security you could lean against when everything else felt shaky.

“Just-” His eyes softened as he looked at you, the rare tenderness that always made your chest tighten. “Get some sleep, alright?”

You nodded, curling up under the covers.

“Goodnight,” you whispered, your voice small and soft as you nestled against him.

Bucky’s hand gently brushed through your hair, his fingers pausing to stroke your scalp in a way that made you feel like the most important thing in the world.

“Goodnight, милая девочка.” Sweet girl.

His words were quiet, a soft reassurance in the night. You let out a sigh, the ache in your side fading as the warmth of his body enveloped you, and slowly, you drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Bucky stayed awake for a while, keeping watch, making sure you were alright. But as the night drew on, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, making sure you were okay before falling asleep himself.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed!

If you'd like to be added to my taglist

Much love x

- Maeve

#james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #winter feels #new year #fanfic #fanfiction #grumpy x sunshine #comehomebucky #the kids miss you #overprotective bucky

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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.

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife @mattsmunch @pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111 @pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo @lovergirl4gracieabrams

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moonlightwritingf1 · 1 month ago

Text

The fire between us | LN4

☃️ summary ━━━━━━━ Trapped in a Swiss cabin during a snowstorm, Lando and Y/N, who’ve been friends for less than a year, are left alone. As they play strip poker, hidden feelings surface, leading to a playful, intimate night where their connection deepens.

☃️ pairing ━━━━━━━ Lando Norris x she!reader

☃️ word count ━━━━━━━ 7.4k

☃️ warnings ━━━━━━━ +18, sexual content

It was the week before Christmas, and the Swiss Alps had transformed into a winter wonderland. A luxurious cabin was nestled at the foot of the mountains, offering everything one could dream of—cozy fireplaces, panoramic views, and an atmosphere thick with the promise of festive memories. Lando had been the first to arrive. As the one who’d paid for the cabin and organized the trip, he had eagerly anticipated the getaway with their friend group. He loved skiing, but even more than that, he loved the idea of spending a few quiet days away from the hustle and bustle. More than anything, though, he was excited about being alone with her—Y/N.

From the moment they met less than a year ago through mutual friends, Lando had been captivated by her. She was different, making his heart race just a little faster whenever she was near. He tried to hide it—keeping his feelings buried beneath casual conversations and friendly smiles—but every time he saw her, his heart betrayed him. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

Despite his efforts to keep his feelings hidden beneath casual conversation and playful teasing, they simmered just below the surface, growing stronger each time they hung out.

But Y/N had no idea. At least, that’s what he thought. She treated him like a close friend—nothing more. They’d spent time together over the months, enjoying each other’s company, making memories, but it was always just... friendly. And Lando had become all too familiar with that painful distance—the fine line between friendship and something more that he had no idea how to cross.

That was until this trip.

When Y/N finally arrived, she was the second person to make it to the cabin. And just as she stepped out of her car, the snowstorm began. The storm had been forecasted, but it hit much harder than expected. Before long, the roads were impassable, and their friends were stuck on the other side of the mountain, unable to get to the cabin. Just like that, Lando and Y/N were alone together, stranded in the middle of nowhere, with only each other’s company to keep them entertained.

Y/N was still adjusting her coat, brushing the snowflakes from her hair as she walked inside, her cheeks flushed from the cold. Lando, who had been staring out the window with a faint smile, snapped out of his daze when she appeared in the doorway.

“Hey! It’s freezing out there,” she said, stomping her boots on the mat as she entered.

Lando couldn't help but grin, his heart skipping at the sight of her. “You're telling me. I wasn’t expecting this kind of snowstorm.” He glanced outside. The flakes were falling heavier now, swirling around in the night sky. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a while.”

Y/N laughed. “Great. I hope we’re stocked up on food. I’m not sure I can survive on just wine and Christmas cookies.”

Lando chuckled, holding the door open for her to come inside. "We've got plenty of food. We’re going to be fine. Don’t worry."

“And it looks like it’s just you and me for the next few days,” she said, her voice light but with a hint of something more—something he couldn’t quite place.

Lando smiled, trying to act nonchalant, but his pulse quickened. “I guess so. Should be fun,” he replied, glancing around the spacious cabin. The fire was already crackling in the living room, the tree twinkling with Christmas lights, and everything felt so cozy. But it was also... quiet. Too quiet. Just the two of them.

After they had settled in and exchanged pleasantries about the snowstorm, Y/N collapsed onto the couch, kicking off her boots and letting out a sigh of relief. “This place is amazing, Lando. I could live here.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Lando replied, smiling at her. “It’s the perfect place to get away.”

They exchanged a few casual words, laughing at some of the jokes their friends had sent through text. But as the night grew darker and the storm raged outside, they were left alone in the quiet of the cabin, with only the sound of the fire and the wind howling through the trees.

Y/N stretched out, glancing at Lando from across the room. “So, what now? We’ve got the whole place to ourselves. What should we do?”

Lando’s eyes twinkled with mischievous intent. “Well, we could play a game.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “A game? Like Monopoly or something?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, though his mind was already racing with possibilities. “Or something a little more... interesting.”

Her curiosity piqued, Y/N leaned forward. “What did you have in mind?”

Lando’s lips curved into a sly grin. “How about strip poker?”

Y/N blinked, clearly taken aback. “Strip poker? Really?”

Lando chuckled, knowing how she might react. He’d teased her with ideas like this before, but never seriously. Tonight, however, it felt like the perfect opportunity to let the playful tension between them simmer into something more. “What? You scared?” he asked, his voice dipping into a low, teasing tone.

She crossed her arms over her chest, clearly thinking it over. “Scared? Of you? Please.” Y/N shot him a teasing grin of her own. “You sure you want to risk it?”

“I’m not scared. Are you?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Fine. Let’s do it. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, gathering the cards. He wasn’t entirely sure how they got to this point, but there was no turning back now. He could already feel the playful, flirty energy between them, and it only made him want to tease her more. The game started innocently enough. They each took turns dealing the cards, laughing as they made their moves. At first, it felt just like any other game—light, easy, and full of jokes.

But as they started shedding clothes, something shifted. Lando couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes lingered on him just a little too long, how her lips curled into a teasing smile whenever he lost a round. And she was good—really good. Each time she won a hand, she would make a show of pulling off a layer of clothing, the way her body moved making Lando’s pulse spike in ways he didn’t want to acknowledge.

When Y/N was down to her tank top and leggings, she shot him a look. “Looks like I’m winning, Lando. Are you sure you’re alright with that?”

Lando could barely keep his eyes off of her. The way she smiled, the way she moved... everything about her made his heart race. “I’m just getting warmed up,” he said, trying to sound casual. “You should be worried.”

“Worried?” She let out a soft, melodic laugh, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I’m not the one losing clothes here.”

Lando grinned, trying to shake off the growing heat that he felt every time she looked at him. He could tell by the way she kept glancing at him that she was feeling the tension too. This wasn’t just a game anymore—it had become something else, something more dangerous, and he couldn’t seem to pull back. “It’s not over yet,” he said, his voice low.

Y/N shrugged, her lips curling up into a smile. “I’m not sure you can come back from this, but we’ll see.”

Finally, it was down to the last round. Both of them were now only in their underwear, the cards spread out between them on the floor. The fire crackled in the background, the only sound in the room except for their breathing.

“So,” Y/N said, her voice low, “you ready to lose?”

Lando swallowed hard. “Not yet,” he replied, trying to sound confident, though his mind was racing. The last layer of clothing between them felt like a barrier he couldn’t cross, but the tension was thick enough to slice with a knife.

They played their final hands, both of them taking risks, both of them desperately trying not to give in. And in the end, it was Y/N who won. She threw down her cards with a laugh, eyes sparkling.

“Well, looks like you’re the one who’s going to lose this time,” she said smugly, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

Lando stared at her, a slow smile tugging at his lips. “I’m just getting started.” Without another word, he closed the gap between them, pulling her into a kiss that was nothing like the playful teasing they had shared moments before. This kiss was slow, deliberate, filled with the intensity of everything that had been building up between them for months.

Y/N froze for a second, surprised by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into him, her hands cupping his face as she kissed him back with equal fervor. The heat from the fire seemed to intensify as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed close together, the game now forgotten.

When they finally pulled apart, their faces flushed with more than just the warmth of the fire, Lando whispered, “I think I lost... but in the best possible way.”

Y/N’s smile softened as she traced the line of his jaw with her finger. “I think we both won,” she said quietly.

They decided to keep playing, though the silence between them was heavy, thick with unspoken words and unfinished moments. Lando could feel it in the way Y/N’s breath hitched slightly when he leaned closer, and in the way her fingers trembled just enough to be noticeable as she reached for another card.

This is it, he thought, his pulse quickening. One more round. One more chance to either lose everything or finally claim what he’d been wanting for so long.

“Your move,” Y/N said, her voice low but steady, her eyes locked on his. Her lips curved into a faint smile, teasing but laced with something deeper—something that sent a shiver down his spine.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers brushing against the edge of the deck. He could feel the heat radiating off her, even from across the makeshift table they’d created on the floor. Her bra hugged her skin, the straps resting delicately on her shoulders, drawing his attention and making it impossible to focus on anything else. His own boxers felt like a damn prison at this point, constricting every thought and movement.

“You’re staring,” she murmured, her voice light but pointed.

He blinked, caught off guard, and forced a laugh. “Am I?”

Y/N tilted her head, her grin widening. “A little. You might want to focus. If you lose again, there won’t be much left to look at.”

Her words were playful, but there was an edge to them, a challenge that made his chest tighten. Focus, Lando, he told himself. But no matter how hard he tried, his gaze kept drifting back to her. To the way her hair fell in soft waves over her shoulder, the way her cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the fire and whatever tension was simmering between them.

“I’m focused,” he said, trying to sound confident even though his heart was pounding. “Just... taking my time.”

“Mmhmm,” she replied, clearly unconvinced. She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the ground, and the movement drew his attention to the way her bra shifted, revealing just a hint of skin.

God, he thought, how is she doing this to me?

He picked up his cards, his fingers trembling slightly as he flipped them over. Two pairs. Not bad, but not great. He glanced at Y/N’s hand, trying to gauge her expression, but she was too good. Her face was calm, composed, her eyes still locked on his with that same spark of mischief.

“Well?” she asked after a beat of tense silence. “Are you going to fold, or are you in this to the end?”

Lando hesitated, his mind racing. He could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him, the knowledge that this wasn’t just a game anymore. It was something more, something that had been building between them for months. And now, here they were, alone in this cabin, stripped down to the bare minimum, their bodies close enough to touch.

If I fold, he thought, then it’s over. And if I don’t...

He looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the faintest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed.

“I’m in,” he said, his voice steadier than he felt.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his decision. “Alright then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

She laid down her cards, and Lando’s stomach dropped. Three jacks. He couldn’t believe it. She’d beaten him again.

“Damn,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You’re good at this.”

Y/N laughed, a soft, melodic sound that made his chest ache. “Told you you should’ve folded.”

“Yeah, well,” he said, forcing a grin. “Guess I’ll have to live with the consequences.”

He started to move, reaching for the waistband of his boxers, but Y/N stopped him with a single word.

“Wait.”

Lando froze, his hand hovering above his hips. “What?”

Y/N met his gaze, her eyes dark with something he couldn’t quite place. “Let’s make this interesting.”

His pulse quickened. “Interesting how?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pushed herself up onto her knees, bridging the gap between them until she was close enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his skin.

“Take them off,” she said quietly, her voice almost a whisper. “But not yet. Just... stay like that.”

Lando’s throat went dry. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Like what?”

Y/N’s gaze flicked downward, lingering for a moment before returning to his face. “Tease me first. Make me wait.”

The request hung in the air between them, heavy and charged. Lando could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, the blood rushing through his veins. He wanted to protest, to say something clever or sarcastic, but the way she was looking at him—like she was daring him, testing him—made it impossible to think of anything else.

“You’re serious?” he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. “Very.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. The fire crackled softly behind them, the storm outside howling louder now, as if urging them to act. Lando could feel the weight of her gaze, the way it seemed to pierce through him, stripping away any pretense of control.

And then, without thinking, he reached for the hem of his boxers, tugging it upward just enough to reveal the barest hint of skin.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she watched him. “More,” she said, her voice low and husky.

Lando swallowed hard, his fingers trembling as he pulled the fabric up another inch. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, in his chest, everywhere. “Is this what you wanted?”

Y/N didn’t answer right away. Instead, she leaned closer, her fingers brushing against his thigh. “Almost,” she said, her voice a sultry purr. “But not quite.”

Lando’s breath caught in his throat. He could feel the heat of her hand on his skin, the sensation sending sparks of electricity coursing through his body. “What do you want, Y/N?” he asked, his voice rough with need.

She smiled, slow and deliberate, her eyes locking on his. “Show me,” she said simply. “Show me how much you want this.”

Lando’s fingers brushed against the waistband of his boxers, his breath hitching as he hesitated for just a moment. His eyes remained locked on Y/N’s, her gaze steady and unyielding, daring him to go further. The firelight danced across her face, casting shadows that made her look even more alluring, more demanding. He couldn’t resist—not anymore.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he slid his boxers down, revealing himself completely to her. The air between them seemed to thicken, charged with an electric tension that made his skin prickle. He was fully exposed now, every inch of him on display, and yet it didn’t feel humiliating or uncomfortable. Instead, it felt... thrilling. Dangerous.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she took in the sight of him, her cheeks flushing a deep shade of red. Her lips parted slightly, but no words came out. She was clearly caught off guard, though whether by surprise or arousal, Lando couldn’t tell. What he did know, though, was that her reaction only fueled his own desire. He was playing with fire, and he wasn’t about to back down.

“Satisfied?” he asked, his voice low and rough, practically dripping with challenge. The corner of his mouth lifted into a sly grin as he watched her squirm under his gaze.

Y/N blinked, shaking her head as if to clear it. “I... I don’t think so,” she stammered, her voice uncharacteristically breathless. She leaned back on her hands, her legs crossed at the ankles, trying to maintain some semblance of composure. But the way her chest rose and fell rapidly, the way her eyes kept darting to him and then away, gave her away.

Lando chuckled softly, leaning forward just enough to shift the dynamic between them. “Come on, Y/N,” he said, his tone teasing. “You can’t expect me to believe you’re not impressed.”

She rolled her eyes, though the effect was ruined by the flush that spread across her neck. “Impressed? By what? Your poker skills? Because those definitely left something to be desired.”

He smirked, knowing she was just trying to play it cool. “Oh, I see. So you’re still mad that I lost. Fine. Maybe we should play another round. Even the odds.”

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, her expression shifting from playful to wary in an instant. “Another round? Really? You’re not exactly... dressed for the occasion.”

Lando leaned back, stretching casually, his movements slow and deliberate. “Who says I need clothes to play? Besides,” he added, his voice dropping to a whisper, “it’s not like you’re shy about winning.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The heat in the room had reached an almost unbearable level, and it wasn’t just from the fire. With only her underwear on, every subtle movement was impossible to ignore. Lando’s eyes flicked to the way her pulse jumped at the base of her throat, the way her legs shifted restlessly against the floor as if she was trying to maintain control. She was fighting it, resisting the pull between them, but he could see the cracks forming in her resolve. And honestly? He loved watching her struggle.

“Alright,” she said finally, her voice trembling just enough to betray her nerves. “But this is your last chance. Don’t blame me if you lose everything.”

“Don’t worry,” Lando replied, his grin widening. “I’m used to betting big.”

They shuffled the cards once more, their fingers brushing more often than necessary. Each touch sent a jolt of anticipation through Lando, making him wonder if Y/N was feeling it too. The game began, but it was hard to focus with the way she kept stealing glances at him, her eyes lingering just a little too long on places they shouldn’t.

The first few rounds were tense, both of them holding their cards close to their chests. Lando tried to keep his confidence up, but the way Y/N’s breathing quickened with each passing moment made it difficult. She was getting flustered, clearly struggling to concentrate, and it only made him tease her more.

“You alright over there?” he asked after a particularly long pause, his voice dripping with mock concern. “Need a break? A glass of water, maybe?”

Y/N glared at him, though the effect was softened by the blush spreading across her cheeks. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly. “Just... focusing.”

Lando chuckled, leaning closer until their knees nearly touched. “Focusing on what? The rules of the game, or... other things?”

She swallowed hard, her eyes flickering to his before darting away. “Maybe both,” she admitted quietly, her cheeks burning brighter.

It was the admission Lando had been waiting for. Her honesty, her vulnerability, it was all he needed to see that she was just as affected by this as he was. And with that realization, his confidence surged.

“Well, then,” he said, his voice smooth and assured. “Why don’t we make it a little more interesting?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her bravado returning in full force. “Oh? And how do you propose we do that?”

Lando leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “How about... a forfeit? For every round you win, I have to do whatever you say. And for every round I win...” He paused, giving her a moment to process. “You have to do whatever I say.”

Her breath caught again, and this time she didn’t try to hide it. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. She knew this was dangerous territory, but the way Lando’s eyes burned with mischief and intent was impossible to ignore.

“Fine,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Lando grinned, his heart racing as he dealt the next hand. This was it. This was where the real game began.

The cards were shuffled again, the deck slick between their fingers as they settled into another round. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering shadows on the walls of the cabin. The storm outside raged on, but inside, it was warm and intimate, the air thick with unspoken promises.

Lando leaned back slightly, his eyes fixed on Y/N. “Your move,” he said, his voice low and deliberate. There was a spark in his gaze that made her stomach flutter—a mix of challenge and something deeper she couldn’t quite name.

Y/N met his stare, her lips curling into a small smile. She could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on her, the stakes higher than ever before. Every movement, every word, seemed to carry more meaning than it should. She shifted slightly, her legs brushing against his under the makeshift poker table, and Lando’s breath hitched just barely.

She played her cards carefully, her mind working overtime to anticipate his moves. But even as she focused on the game, she couldn’t ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the room. His knee grazed hers again, deliberately this time, and she shivered despite herself.

“Bold play,” Lando murmured as he laid down his hand, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “But I think I’ve got you beat.”

Y/N glanced at his cards, her heart sinking slightly as she realized he was right. She bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment, but Lando was already leaning forward, his expression teasing yet somehow serious.

“Looks like you owe me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down her spine.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice steady despite the butterflies in her stomach. She knew whatever he had in mind wouldn’t be simple, and part of her reveled in the idea of giving him control.

Lando paused for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. “Take off your bra,” he said simply, his tone light but his eyes burning with intent.

Y/N froze for a second, her breath catching in her throat. The request was direct, unexpected, and yet… not entirely unwelcome. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze with a confidence she wasn’t sure she truly felt.

“That all?” she teased, her voice cool despite the way her pulse quickened.

Lando chuckled, low and deep, the sound sending a thrill through her. “For now,” he replied, his eyes never leaving hers. He was enjoying this, she realized—enjoying the way she fought to maintain her composure, the way she challenged him even as she gave in.

Y/N hesitated for just a moment longer, then reached behind her back. The clasp of her bra came undone easily, and she slid the straps down her arms, letting the fabric pool at her waist. She kept her posture relaxed, her shoulders straight, refusing to let him see how much his attention affected her.

Lando’s gaze dropped to her chest, his expression softening for a moment before he forced himself to meet her eyes again. “Gorgeous,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Y/N replied, her tone light as she tried to keep things playful. But there was an edge to her words, a hint of something raw and unspoken that made Lando’s breath hitch.

They sat like that for a moment, the tension between them palpable, the room feeling smaller with each passing second. Then Lando spoke again, his voice low and rough. “Another round?”

Y/N nodded, her heart racing as she picked up the cards. This time, there was no mistaking the electricity between them, no pretending that this was just a game. It was something more, something dangerous and thrilling, and she was all in.

The next few rounds passed in a blur. They teased each other mercilessly, their banter sharpening with every hand. But there was an underlying current of desire now, an awareness of how close they were, how little separated them except for the thin layer of her underwear and the rules they’d set.

Lando won again, his grin widening as he laid down his cards. “Looks like I get to collect my prize,” he said, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N’s breath caught as she realized what that meant. “And what exactly is your prize?” she asked, her voice steady despite the heat pooling in her lower belly.

Lando leaned in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, “I want to taste you.”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and charged with meaning. Y/N felt her heartbeat accelerate, her skin tingling in response to his proximity. She should have said no, should have put a stop to this before it went any further. But the truth was, she didn’t want to. Not with him. Not when he looked at her like that, with such fierce intensity it stole her breath.

“You’ll have to be more specific,” she said finally, her voice trembling just slightly. She was playing with fire, she knew that, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Lando’s grin widened, and he slid his hand along her thigh, his touch warm and insistent. “I want to make you come,” he said, his voice low and smooth, “with my tongue.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her entire body flooding with heat at his words. She could feel the flush spreading across her chest, her nipples tightening in response to his nearness. She wanted to say yes, wanted to give in to the hunger that had been building inside her since the moment they’d first kissed. But part of her hesitated, afraid of what it meant, afraid of how far this would go.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lando didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, fleeting kiss. “Never been more sure of anything,” he murmured against her lips.

Then, without waiting for her reply, he stood and pulled her to her feet. In one swift motion, he guided her backward until she was sitting on the edge of the couch, her legs dangling over the side. He knelt in front of her, his hands resting on her thighs, his gaze locked on hers.

Y/N’s breath hitched as Lando’s hands slid up her thighs, his touch warm and deliberate. She swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared down at him. His eyes were intense, almost predatory, and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. “But if you don’t…”

If I don’t? Her mind raced, torn between the sudden rush of desire and the lingering caution that held her back. But then she met his gaze—those deep, dark eyes that seemed to see straight through her. There was no hesitation there, no doubt. Just pure, unfiltered need, and it was contagious.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation.

Lando’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smile, and then he was moving, his hands sliding beneath her thighs as he gently urged them apart. Y/N sucked in a sharp breath as he knelt lower, his face now level with her aching core. The firelight danced across his features, casting shadows that made him look both dangerous and irresistible.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with admiration as his fingers grazed the edge of her underwear. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her at his words. His honesty was intoxicating, and it made her want to surrender completely. “Show me,” she said, her voice barely more than a breath. “Show me how much you want this.”

His answer was immediate. In one swift motion, he hooked his fingers under the elastic of her panties and pulled them aside, exposing her to the cool air again. Y/N gasped, her body tensing as his breath ghosted over her sensitive skin. Then, without warning, his mouth was on her, his tongue darting out to taste her.

“Oh!” The sound escaped her before she could stop it, a mix of surprise and pleasure that left her head spinning. Lando chuckled softly against her, the vibration sending another wave of sensation rippling through her. He teased her with his tongue, flicking and circling in lazy patterns that had her gripping the edge of the couch for support.

“Lando…” she moaned, her hips twitching as she tried to push herself closer to him. But he wasn’t done teasing her yet. His hands gripped her thighs tighter, holding her steady as he explored every inch of her with his mouth. His tongue delved deeper, curling and pressing in ways that made it impossible for her to think clearly.

Her breath came in short, jagged bursts, each one louder than the last. The fire crackled behind her, its warmth spreading through her body along with the overwhelming sensations Lando was stirring within her. He’s so good at this, she thought dimly, her mind fogging over with pleasure. So in control.

But just when she thought she might actually pass out from the intensity of it all, Lando changed his pace. Instead of the slow, deliberate movements that had been driving her wild, he began to move faster, his tongue darting in and out of her in a rhythm that matched the pounding of her heart. His teeth grazed lightly against her clit as he sucked, creating a new kind of friction that had her arching her back and crying out his name.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she chanted, her words incoherent as her orgasm built and built inside her. Lando didn’t let up, not for a second. If anything, he intensified his efforts, his fingers brushing against her folds as his mouth worked furiously. The dual stimulation was too much—too perfect—and within moments, she was shattered.

“LAN-DO!” Her scream filled the cabin as her hips bucked against his face, her entire body trembling with the force of her release. It felt like everything inside her was exploding, over and over, until she was nothing but a quivering mess. Lando rode out her climax with ease, his mouth never leaving her as he licked and kissed until every last bit of tension had drained from her body.

When she finally collapsed back onto the couch, her chest heaving and her legs still shaking, Lando pulled away slowly, his lips wet and his expression smug. “Better than winning at poker?” he asked with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Y/N glared at him, though her smile gave her away. “Don’t get cocky,” she panted, batting his hand away playfully.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, standing and towering over her. “Round one was just the beginning.”

Before she could respond, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her onto his lap, positioning her so that she was straddling him. His erection pressed firmly against her core, already demanding attention, and Y/N couldn’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“Ready for round two?” he asked, his voice low and husky as he nipped at her earlobe.

Y/N’s response was instant. She ground her hips against him, relishing the way his breath hitched and his grip tightened on her waist. “Show me,” she whispered, her voice laced with challenge. “Show me what else you’ve got.”

Lando didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand on her back and the other guiding himself, he lined his length up with her entrance. Y/N braced herself, her heart racing as she felt the blunt pressure of his tip against her slick folds. Then, with a deep groan, he pushed forward, filling her in one smooth thrust.

“Fuck,” she gasped, throwing her head back as the fullness hit her all at once. It was overwhelming—his size, his strength, the way he claimed her so utterly. She’d never felt anything like it, and the realization only heightened her arousal.

“You feel so good,” Lando growled, his voice rough with need as he pulled back and thrust into her again. “God, Y/N, you’re so tight.”

She clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he set a steady rhythm. Each stroke was deliberate, hitting all the right spots and sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her veins. The firelight flickered across their entwined bodies, casting a golden glow that made everything seem even more intimate.

“Harder,” she demanded, her voice breaking as she shifted her hips to meet his thrusts. “Please, Lando. Harder.”

He didn’t hesitate. With a growl of approval, he grabbed her hips and drove into her with renewed vigor. The slap of skin against skin echoed in the quiet cabin, mixing with their ragged breaths and the occasional moan that slipped past her lips. Y/N clung to him, her body writhing as she surrendered to the sensation.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she cried out, her voice rising with each thrust. Lando buried his face in the crook of her neck, his teeth grazing her skin as he fucked her with relentless determination. He was everywhere—his hands, his mouth, his cock—and it was too much. Too perfect.

“I’m going to come again,” she warned, her voice trembling as her orgasm began to build once more. “Lando, I’m—”

“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice a raw, primal demand. “Let go, Y/N. Let me feel you come around me.”

Those words were her undoing. With a cry that echoed through the cabin, she threw her head back and shattered around him. Her inner muscles clenched tightly around his cock as her orgasm tore through her, leaving her breathless and trembling.

Lando’s thrusts slowed as he watched her fall apart in his arms, his own release nearing. He buried his face in her neck, whispering sweet, frantic promises as he continued to move inside her. And then, with a final, desperate thrust, he came undone.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained as he spilled deep inside her. His whole body shuddered as he emptied himself into her, the sensation of being so intimately connected to her overwhelming.

They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies locked together as they caught their breath. Y/N pressed her forehead against his, her heart still racing as she tried to process everything that had just happened.

Lando and Y/N remained intertwined, their bodies still twitching with the aftershocks of their shared climax. The fire crackled softly in the background, casting a warm amber glow over them as they clung to each other, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between their lips.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their heartbeats slowing to a steady rhythm and the occasional pop of a log in the fireplace. The storm outside seemed distant now, its fury muted by the cocoon of warmth and intimacy they’d created within the cabin.

Y/N shifted slightly, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across Lando’s back. Her skin was still flushed, her body languid with satisfaction, but her mind was racing. She couldn’t believe how deeply she had let herself go—how completely she had surrendered to him. And yet, it felt right. It felt inevitable.

What is this? she wondered, her thoughts a jumbled mess of emotions. What are we doing?

Lando pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his eyes searching hers. His expression was soft, almost reverent, as if he were trying to drink in every detail of her face. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “You okay?”

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah. Just... catching my breath.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her cheek. “Same here.”

Their eyes held for a moment longer before Y/N broke the silence again. “You’re really bad at poker, you know that?” she teased, her tone light despite the heat still simmering between them.

Lando grinned, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that playful way of his. “I thought I was pretty good at bluffing. Guess not.”

“You weren’t bluffing when you said you’d do anything to win, though,” she said, her voice dropping slightly as she remembered the intensity of his actions.

His grin faded, replaced by something far more serious. “No,” he admitted quietly. “I wasn’t.”

The air between them shifted, the playful tension giving way to something heavier. Y/N’s breath hitched, her heart racing as his words sank in. He wasn’t just talking about the game. He was talking about her.

She swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “You mean it?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” He shifted closer, his hand brushing her cheek with a tenderness that made her pulse quicken. His thumb traced her skin, his touch warm despite the chill lingering in the air. “You’re worth more than winning a game, Y/N. You’re worth everything.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her ribs. She wanted to say something—to tell him how much his words meant to her—but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a brief moment as his warmth enveloped her. For months, she’d ignored the flickers of possibility between them, convincing herself it was all in her head. But now, there was no hiding from it.

When she opened her eyes again, she found him watching her with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. “Lando,” she started, her voice trembling slightly.

But he cut her off with a kiss, soft and lingering, as if he were savoring the taste of her. When he finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, their noses brushing as they breathed each other in.

“Don’t overthink it,” he murmured, his forehead resting lightly against hers. His lips curved into a soft smile, the teasing edge of his usual grin still there, but gentler now. “Just… let it happen.”

And for once, she did. She closed the distance between them, leaning into the warmth of his touch and the quiet certainty in his eyes. When their lips met, it was soft, tentative, but it carried the weight of everything unsaid.

The fire crackled in the background, but all she could feel was him—his warmth, his presence, and the promise held in the quiet stillness of the cabin.

Lando shifted again, rolling onto his back but keeping her close. Y/N curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest as his arm wrapped around her, pulling her even tighter against him. The steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her ear was oddly comforting, grounding her in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

“So,” she said after a while, breaking the silence with a tone that was equal parts playful and curious. “What happens now?”

Lando chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she said, lifting her head to look at him, “we can’t exactly keep playing strip poker. Not without clothes, anyway.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying her teasing. “Maybe not. But that doesn’t mean we’re out of games.”

Her eyebrow arched in question. “Oh? What did you have in mind?”

“How about truth or dare?” he suggested, his voice dripping with mischief.

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Seriously? You want to play truth or dare? After all that?”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin widening. “It’s a classic. And who knows? Maybe we’ll learn something new about each other.”

She considered his proposal for a moment, her curiosity piqued. “Alright,” she said finally, sitting up slightly so she could look at him. “Let’s do it. But fair warning—I don’t hold back.”

“Neither do I,” he replied, his tone confident. “Your move.”

She bit her lip, thinking for a moment before deciding. “Truth.”

Lando’s grin turned sly. “Alright... what’s the last thing you Googled?”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the simplicity of his question. “Really? That’s your big question?”

“Yep,” he said, leaning back with a satisfied smirk. “Spill.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “Fine. I Googled the best places to visit in Switzerland.”

“Huh,” he said, his expression thoughtful. “Planning a solo trip?”

“Maybe,” she said, shrugging nonchalantly. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if there was anywhere else worth checking out while we’re here.”

Lando’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “Well, if you’re looking for recommendations, I’m your guy.”

“Good to know,” she said, tilting her head as she studied him. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Dare.”

Her grin widened, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Alright... I dare you to kiss me until I forget my own name.”

Lando’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he processed her challenge. Before he could respond, she slid her hand along his jaw, guiding his face toward hers. Her lips met his in a kiss that was slower, deeper than before—a kiss that left no room for doubt about how much she wanted him.

He groaned softly into her mouth, his hands gripping her waist as he deepened the kiss. Every movement, every touch, seemed deliberate, as if he were etching the memory of this moment into his very soul.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N’s cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy as she looked up at him. “Okay,” she said breathlessly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I think you win this round.”

Lando chuckled, his thumb brushing across her lower lip. “Careful,” he warned, his tone teasing but with an edge of seriousness. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Good,” she said, her smile turning wicked. “Because I like it hot.”

Before he could respond, she kissed him again, her hands sliding down to his shoulders as she pressed herself closer to him. The fire roared behind them, the storm raged outside, but all that mattered was the connection they shared—a connection that was growing stronger with every passing moment.

They stayed like that for a while, lost in each other, the world beyond the cabin fading into obscurity. And as the night wore on, they continued to explore the depths of their desire, pushing boundaries and discovering new ways to bring each other pleasure.

It was a night unlike any other, a night that would stay with them long after the snow had melted and the fire had burned out. A night that marked the beginning of something extraordinary—something that neither of them could have predicted but that felt utterly, undeniably right.

1K notes · View notes

trashytracktales · 1 month ago

Note

ong yes!! lando gotta loveeeee doggy and taking her against a wall!! But imagine her on top for the first time and not knowing how to ride him and him teaching him and telling her what to do! im asking this to santa !!

kill me now!!

Oh, Christmas treat | LN ⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── Why ask Santa when I'm literally right here... enjoy 💋

⤿ We're yapping about this ask.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── It's a quiet winter night, and Lando notices that his girlfriend seems a bit distracted. After some playful coaxing, she admits a secret desire to try something new. With his gentle guidance, they explore new paths together, each step bringing them closer.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, fluff & smut, descriptive language, light teasing, themes of vulnerability, unprotected sex, reader's first time on top, bit of swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 24, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I know this wasn’t a request per se, but I wanted to share this one-shot with you since it was already mostly ready to go. I’ve been dealing with some health issues recently and couldn't get myself to get anything done, so thank you for your patience. The rest of the requests are still on their (admittedly slow) way, but I promise they’re coming 🤞🏻 Wishing a very Merry Christmas Eve to everyone who celebrates, and who knows, I might have another little treat up my sleeve 👀

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE DAY HAD been nothing out of the ordinary, but that was exactly what made it special.

Lando had woken up late, groggy but grinning satisfied when he caught her padding around the kitchen in fuzzy socks and an oversized sweater, humming along to Christmas songs. She loves the holiday season, because she likes it when he's home, and Lando doesn't have to be anywhere but their own apartment. That's exactly why she can't get upset when he streams with Max for hours in the night, and ends up sleeping in the next day. The simple fact that he's there is enough.

Maybe she conditioned herself to accept that, but then she sees his sleepy face and thinks she'd accept worse in order to share her mornings with him.

It's Christmas Eve, so they’d decided to bake cookies, mostly because she insisted it was a winter tradition, and Lando, ever the competitive spirit, took it as a challenge to see whose decorations would turn out better. As expected, chaos followed. By the time the cookies were ready, the kitchen looked like it had been through a snowstorm of flour and sugar. Lando had a streak of frosting on his cheek, and she had somehow ended up with sprinkles in her hair. In reality, they spent more time laughing and teasing each other than actually baking, but that was always the way it went with them.

Now, their cookies sit patiently on the counter, forgotten as the two of them relax on the couch in the living room. The Christmas tree lights glow warmly in the corner, and a cheesy holiday movie plays on the TV. They’re snuggled under a thick blanket, her legs curled up and tucked into his side. Lando’s arm drapes around her shoulders, his fingers playing lazily with her hair. It’s peaceful and comforting, but somewhere in the quiet, she feels a sudden pull in her chest.

In all the time they've been together, she never took the lead — not willingly, at least — feeling more than happy to surrender. She's been thinking about it for a long time, but she's never had the courage to do it. She doesn't feel intimidated or inhibited by her boyfriend, but rather by how it could all go wrong for both of them if she, somehow, ends up doing something she’s not supposed to.

Suddenly, her arms tighten around him, her nose nuzzling into his shirt. There’s a weight in her heart, not sadness exactly, but something tender, something raw. It makes her extra clingy, but she doesn’t say anything. She just holds him closer, hoping he won’t notice.

But Lando always notices.

His fingers pause in her hair, and his brows furrow slightly as he glances down at her. “You good, baby?” he asks, his voice soft and curious.

She hums nonchalantly, her face still buried in his chest.

“You sure?” Lando insists, his tone teasing but gentle.

The girl freezes for a moment, debating whether to brush it off, but before she can decide, he tilts her chin up with his fingers, making her look at him.

“Come on, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm?” he asks, his eyes scanning hers.

Her cheeks heat under his gaze, and she sighs. “I don’t know. You just… feel extra nice to hold tonight,” she says quietly.

Lando blinks, then his grin widens, teasing again. “Didn’t know I had levels of cuddliness.”

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles, hiding her face against his chest again.

His smile softens, and he wraps his arms around her fully, pulling her tighter against him. “Hey, you don’t wanna talk to me?”

She shakes her head and, at that, Lando stops pushing, knowing that whatever it is, she’ll come to him. Eventually. When she’s ready.

A few hours later, their movie marathon ends in a comfortable silence, the glow of the TV instantly muted by the credits rolling on the screen. Lando stretches, groaning softly as he shifts from the couch.

She gathers the blanket, folding it neatly before turning to him with a small smile.

“Bedtime?” she asks, her voice soft, almost reluctant to leave the warmth of the evening behind.

“Bedtime,” he agrees, though he watches her carefully as she heads toward the bedroom.

She moves through her usual routine, brushing her teeth and slipping into one of his hoodies, paired with sleep shorts. As she pulls back the covers and sits on the edge of the bed, he hears it again — the same quiet sigh that makes his chest tighten.

Lando leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, frowning in her direction. “Alright, that’s the second time tonight,” he says, his tone light but edged with curiosity. “Should I worry?”

“What?” she replies quickly, too quickly, as she gets ready to tuck herself under the duvet. “No, baby. It’s nothing.”

“Right,” says Lando, stepping closer, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to get it out of you another way.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Lando…”

Before she can finish, he lunges, playfully grabbing her waist and threatening to tickle her sides. She squeals, trying to wiggle away, but his grip on her is firm.

“Last chance, I'm serious,” he warns, his laughter bubbling up as she giggles uncontrollably.

“Okay, fine, stop it!” she pleads, breathless, her face flushed.

Lando stops, pulling back just enough to sit on the edge of the bed. Then, with a gentle tug, he pulls her onto his lap. His arms wrap loosely around her waist, and he tilts his head, watching her with a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Now,” he says, happy that he managed to break her wall, “What’s going on?”

She hesitates, her cheeks turning pink as she avoids his gaze. Instead, her fingers find his curls at the back of his head, twisting them gently as she takes a deep breath. “You know, it’s not even a big deal. I’ve been thinking about something, but I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Mhm,” he nods, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to her lips. It’s deep, slow, almost as if he’s trying to reassure her without words. When he pulls back, their foreheads touch, and he whispers, “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

She knows. Still, that doesn’t make it any easier. The heat rushes in her cheeks as she finally meets his eyes. “Look, I like when you’re on top. I mean, I really like it,” she says, stumbling slightly over her words. “But I was thinking, maybe, I’d like to, you know...”

Her voice trails off, and she looks away again, clearly embarrassed.

Lando blinks, letting her words sink in. His mouth opens slightly, but no sound comes out as a flush creeps up his neck. Then, a grin spreads across his face, equal parts flustered and excited.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice soft, his hands tightening slightly on her waist. “You want to ride me, baby?”

She nods quickly, still twisting his curls nervously. “But I’ve never done it before, and I’m not sure I’d be good at it. It's just that—”

He exhales a chuckle, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “Slow down,” he murmurs against her skin, his tone so tender that it makes her stomach flip. “You don’t have to worry about being good at it, baby. If you wat to try it, I can guide you, and we’ll see what works for us as we go.”

Her cheeks flush as she processes his reassurance, the tender way he’s looking at her making her feel bold and seen. And listened to.

She smiles, shifting on his lap, searching for some friction, and the slight brush of her core against his growing hardness has her letting out a soft gasp. Lando notices immediately, but he doesn’t say anything yet. Instead, he lets her take the lead at her own pace, on her own terms.

She shifts again, this time deliberately pressing herself against him, and the soft sound she makes has Lando’s self-control slipping. “I suppose we can try now?” he murmurs, his voice thick with heat.

She doesn’t reply — at least not with words. Instead, she grabs his hoodie, pulling it over her head in one swift motion, leaving her in nothing but her shorts. Lando’s breath catches as he takes her in, his hands immediately coming up to palm her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. He's seen her naked so many times before, but somehow, every time she gets rid of her clothes she uncovers something new.

“So beautiful,” he mutters, leaning in to press open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone. She tilts her head back, giving him more access, and the heat between them builds until she pushes him gently onto the mattress.

Lando goes willingly, a grin tugging at his lips as she leans over him to kiss him again. His hands move to her hips, holding her firmly as she presses herself against him, grinding slowly. He groans into her mouth, his hands sliding lower to grip her ass, then he spreads her slightly, pushing her down against his growing length, making both of them gasp at the feeling.

Her hands trail down his chest, and she tugs at his shirt. “Off,” she breathes, and he obeys, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. For a moment, she just looks at him, her hands tracing the defined lines of his chest.

The tension between them builds rapidly, their breaths mingling as they press closer. It doesn’t take long before she’s tugging at the waistband of her shorts, her nerves creeping back in as she pushes them down. Lando sits up slightly, watching her with darkened eyes, and when she glances at him nervously, he reaches out to stroke her thigh gently.

“You’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice full of sincerity.

Her nerves ease at his words, and when he pushes his joggers down, freeing himself, her anticipation drowns out her doubts.

He sits up fully, pulling her closer until she’s straddling him again. “Alright, love,” he murmurs, his hands steadying her hips. “Go slow, yeah? Just sit on me first. Take your time.”

She nods, biting her lip as she lines herself up with him. Slowly, she sinks down, feeling the stretch as he fills her inch by sweet inch. Her breath hitches, and Lando groans, his hands gripping her hips tighter.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps. “You always feel so good.”

She pauses once he’s fully inside, her hands braced on his chest as she adjusts to the feeling of being so full of him. Sensing her nervousness, Lando rubs soothing circles on her hips, letting her take her time.

When she finally starts to move, lifting herself up slightly before sinking back down, a soft, shaky moan escapes her lips. Lando watches her with a mix of awe and hunger, his hands guiding her gently.

“Just like that, baby,” he encourages her, “Easy. You’re doing so well.”

Slowly but surely, she manages to build a rhythm, her movements tentative at first. But as the pleasure starts invading her senses, she becomes bolder. She opens up more, craving all of him at once. Her hands slide back to grip his thighs for support as she leans back slightly, the new angle sending sparks of pleasure through her body.

The taste of power it's rather interesting in this position, and she can’t afford to be shy anymore. Not when his cock feels so good inside her, and not when she decides how to take him.

“Fuck, Lando,” she breathes, her head tilting back.

She begins to move more rapidly on top of him, her hips following a predetermined path that she wasn't even aware of before. Lando watches her in amazement, feeling every pulse of pleasure every time she comes back for more, her walls hugging his cock so tightly that it leaves him breathless.

He groans, his hands sliding up to her waist to steady her. “That’s it, baby. Keep going. God, you’re going to make me cum so fast like this.”

The sight of her riding him, her body moving with such confidence now, nearly breaks him. Somehow, he resists the urge to thrust up into her, letting her stay in control, but his grip tightens as his restraint begins to fray.

He hears a silent cry, getting ready for every scenario in his mind, while his eyes study her frame by frame.

She whimpers, her movements becoming more erratic as the pleasure overwhelms her. “Lan,” she gasps, her voice shaky. “I can’t go—too much.”

He sits up slightly, pulling her towards him and pressing his forehead to hers. “Of course you can, baby,” he says softly, his voice steady despite the fire coursing through him. “I’m here. Just a little more, yeah? You’re doing so good.”

She feels his cock twitching inside her as she shakes her head weakly, “Lando, please…” her hands desperately clutch his shoulders, and that's when he understands what she needs from him.

Lando's hands land on her waist again, gripping at her firmly, and he starts to guide her harder on his cock while thrusting up into her simultaneously, meeting her halfway. The sudden change in rhythm makes her cry out, her nails digging into his skin.

“Yes,” she moans, her head dropping onto his shoulder as he drives her higher. “It’s so good, fuck. I’m—”

“That’s it,” he growls, his voice tinged with exhaustion. “Let go, baby. I’ve got you.”

So she does, her body trembling as the pleasure crests and crashes over her. He follows seconds later, his movements growing erratic before he stills inside her, holding her tightly against him as they both ride out their highs, breathing each other’s air. They stay tangled together, bodies still pressed close as the intensity of their orgasms fades away.

Lando brushes a strand of her hair away from her damp forehead, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You okay there?” he asks, his voice a gentle rasp.

She nods against him, her body still warm and buzzing. “Mhm, ‘m okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

He grins, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “You did so well, baby. Made me proud.”

She lets out a breathless laugh, her head dropping back onto his shoulder. “Cheers,” she trails off, playfully groaning. “But that was so much work. My fucking thighs are on fire.”

Lando laughs, the sound deep and rich. “Oh, you poor thing,” he teases, stroking her back soothingly.

She swats at his chest, unable to hold back her grin. “I’m serious! It’s a full-body workout being on top.”

He hums thoughtfully, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her skin. “So what you’re saying is…” he starts, tilting his head with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I get to be in charge again next time?”

She pulls back to look at him, her cheeks flushing, but there’s a playful sparkle in her eyes. “You won't hear me complaining,” she quips, biting her lip to suppress her laughter.

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

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logaenhowlett · 1 month ago

Text

I THINK THEY CALL THIS LOVE - L.H.

Summary: A flat tire, a blinding snowstorm, and a mix-up leads you to Logan's cabin. Things happen after another, and before you know it, Christmas means being snowed in with a complete stranger.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Reader

Warnings: 6.0k of pure fluff, Mutual pining (even Logan isn’t immune to cupid’s arrow), Sickeningly sweet slow burn, Major ‘just kiss already’ energy, How the Grinch Stole Christmas reference (pretend it exists in the 80s)

A/N: Can this happen to me please? And yes, it's inspired by The Holiday. Title creds to Elliot James Reay. Enjoy and happy holidays everyone, may your dreams be blessed with this beautiful man!

MASTERLIST

Nestled amidst snow-kissed pine trees, our cozy cabin offers a serene escape. Simply a perfect winter retreat overlooking breathtaking valleys and stunning mountain ranges, where you can unwind or explore our charming town just a short drive away.

Light cascades over his features, the glow harsh and bright as he squints at your phone, reading the brief description. Gusts of wind whip past as you wait expectantly, shifting your weight from one foot to another to keep warm.

"You got the wrong place," he says, peering out from behind the partially opened door.

Mouth agape, cold breaths misting in the chilly night air, you stare at him in disbelief. "This is the address they gave me," you reply desperately. It's a pointless attempt, you're not sure why you even bother trying. Clearly, you've ended up in the wrong place and arguing with this stranger won't change that.

"Well, they made a mistake, alright?" Brows creasing in mild annoyance, he leans forward, "S'my house. I live here.” The words hang in the air, heavy and final, punctuated by the squelch of your boots slightly sinking into the snow.

With a defeated sigh, you shuffle away from his front porch, the biting wind nipping at your exposed skin. Gloved fingers stiff from the cold, you fumble with the near-frozen handle of your car, the metallic hinges protesting as you wrench it open with a grunt. The thought of finding someplace to at least spend the night fills you with dread. Surely, scrambling at the last minute is bound to leave very few and certainly overpriced options.

Glancing back, you trace his figure silhouetted against the amber glow radiating from behind. "You wouldn't happen to know if there's a motel around, would you?" you ask, blinking tiredly against the glare.

"Closest one's 'bout an hour away." His expression remains unreadable, though, a flicker of something - perhaps sympathy - crosses his face. Just as you're sliding into the driver's seat, his voice cuts across the distance. "Hey - wait," he calls out, emerging from his house.

The collar of his flannel flaps from the breeze, and glimpses of the dark curls on his chest peek through the unbuttoned top. You wonder how the hell he's not shivering as he trudges through the snow, hands merely shoved deep into his pockets. He stops near your window, breath fogging up the glass as he looks at you hesitantly. "S'not safe to drive right now," he murmurs, weighing his next words, "Look, why don't you stay here tonight and figure somethin' out tomorrow?"

His offer takes you by surprise. The memory of his earlier dismissiveness stings, making the shift more jarring. Incoherent murmurs tumble from your throat, eyes widening at the thought of spending the night at this stranger's house. A ridiculously attractive stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. Sensing your unease, he sighs softly. "I get it, you don't know me. But, you're not gonna find anythin' this late anyway," he shrugs, taking a small step backwards, "S'up to you, just sayin'."

The rhythmic tapping of your fingers against the steering wheel echoes within the car. Doubt creeps into your mind as you study him, and eventually, the faint, encouraging smile he returns draws a shaky exhale. With a slight nod, you kill the engine.

Logan - as you learn shortly after - is a rather simple man. The interior of his cabin is minimal, almost sterile in nature and devoid of any personal touches. Yet, the warmth of the fireplace bathes the space in a cozy, inviting light. Scattered beer bottles and a couple of well-worn paperbacks lay on the coffee table, along with a radio humming a smooth jazz tune. A vague scent of pine lingers in the air, mingling with the smokiness of the aged wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling. Shockingly, there isn't a single festive ornament in sight unlike the heavily decorated neighbourhoods you drove through to get here. And honestly, the longer you spend in his company, the more questions arise.

"Quiet night in, huh?" you note, trailing after him.

"Usually how it goes," he replies with a huff, the muscles of his back straining against his flannel as he wheels your suitcase towards the single door at the end of the hallway.

"Oh. I can sleep on the couch, you don’t need to–"

Despite your protests, Logan gestures inside, stepping back for you to enter. "Take the bed, I'll be out there." And there's absolutely no room for a debate; the set of his jaw and the determined glint in his eyes make that painstakingly clear. Still, he can't contain his amusement as you open your mouth again. "Don't fight me on this, alright?" he adds, fixing you with a pointed gaze.

You hold eye contact for a few seconds, the intensity slowly melting your resistance. Reluctantly, you nod and he flicks a switch, a soothing glow casts over the room. The bed, with its crisp white sheets and a pleasantly startling number of pillows, seems so comfy you almost sigh in relief. "If you need anythin', just ask," he continues, hand hovering over the knob.

The door creaks behind him as you call out his name. Pausing his motion, he turns around, eyeing you with patient curiosity. Now, in proper lighting, you spot the flecks of green in his eyes, the perfectly tousled waves of his hair, and the incredibly soft beard you suddenly want to stroke. "Thank you," you rasp, your voice inexplicably thick with surprise.

Logan nods once with a tight-lipped smile. "My pleasure," he whispers, bidding you good night. A beat of silence passes, then the muffled sound of his footsteps receding down the hallway. Grumbling in confusion, you slide under the covers, the blanket enveloping you in a much-needed embrace.

Today was a bad day.

A truly awful, no-good, very bad day. Last night, when you'd impulsively booked this getaway, the possibility of handling flat tires and battling harsh weather only to end up at the wrong place, all because of some mix-up never crossed your mind. It seemed like the perfect escape, a chance to relax and enjoy the Christmas cheer, a well-deserved break from the months of stress and the endless workdays. Unfortunately, luck - the heartless bastard - had other plans. Logan, however, managed to salvage your spirits, at least a little, with his unexpected goodwill.

So maybe, today was a slightly less bad day.

The smoke alarm is moments from a full-blown wail. Logan curses under his breath, beads of sweat trickling down his temple. He'd only wanted to make a simple stack of pancakes, yet the kitchen remains a travesty and the once-promising batter now a charred mess on the griddle.

It's all unchartered territory, having someone over, much less a complete stranger. Save for the rare visit from his lumberjack buddies, which involves more beer than conversation, or the neighbourly kindness of Diane, the elderly woman who regularly presses homemade meals into his hands in exchange for mending broken fences or leaky pipes, he's never had any real company. And so, he doesn't exactly know what compelled him to wake up earlier than usual and rummage through the sparsely stocked shelves to whip up something decent.

Tossing a quick, and almost furtive glance down the hallway, the steady cadence of your breathing filters through the bedroom walls. Logan shakes his head, resignation twisting his lips. Unimpressed with his terrible attempt, he scrapes the burnt food into the trash.

A restless energy thrums beneath his skin, his mind consumed by a nervous current since he'd made the impulsive offer last night. Moving through the cabin like a man possessed, he rearranges the perfectly stacked firewood, dusts the already pristine surfaces, and even opens the refrigerator for the fourth time only to stare blankly at its contents, having gained nothing but a momentary distraction. He's sure the carpet is dented from the sheer number of times he's paced the same worn track, each turn drawing him closer to the bedroom, then away again.

The quietness is deafening for a couple of hours until the soft thumping of your footsteps quirks his ears. Logan stops fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers, then straightens his posture to lean against the kitchen counter.

The fading smell of something wrinkles your nose. "I didn't sleep through a forest fire or anything, right?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes tiredly with the back of your hand.

His eyes involuntarily flick towards the stove, and for a fleeting moment, a sheepish smile touches his lips. "Don't worry 'bout it," he says a little too quickly, "Sleep well?" The steam from his coffee curls upwards as he takes a slow sip.

"I did, and thank you for letting me stay. You didn't have to do that." He nods in response, trying to downplay the gesture.

A charged silence stretches between you, crackling with unspoken thoughts and lingering awkwardness. There's a brief and almost hesitant exchange of glances before you speak at the same time.

"I should get going then–"

"There's a diner nearby–"

Stopping abruptly, a slightly embarrassed chuckle escapes your lips, mirroring the faint grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth. The shared laughter dissipates some of the tension and the atmosphere becomes almost comfortable. Only a second passes before Logan tries again, the words tumbling out a little faster than he intends. "There's a diner nearby if you're hungry."

He doesn't know why he just said that - the thought hadn't been consciously formed at all. Though he feels this strange pull, this unexpected urge to prolong the conversation, a subtle plea for you to stay. He eyes you with barely concealed anticipation, awaiting your reaction with bated breath.

"Okay, I have to ask. What's with the severe lack of Christmas decor?"

Logan watches you swirl the last of your milkshake, the metal spoon clinking against the glass. The diner's fluorescent lights, while unforgiving to most, seem to soften as they trace the delicate curve of your jawline, highlighting the pale flush of your cheeks courtesy of the winter air. Leaning back against the worn leather of the booth, a small smile spreads across his face as he considers your question. His gaze sweeps over the room, noting the strings of twinkling lights haphazardly draped around the tables, the paper snowflakes dangling from the ceiling and a rather lopsided Christmas tree tucked next to the jukebox.

"S'not really my thing," he admits, a faint shrug lifting his broad shoulders.

"Not even a little?" you tease, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement, his smile widening just a fraction. "Never had a reason," he says with an almost offhand casualness. But the flicker of curiosity, or perhaps even the touch of concern, in your expression doesn't escape him. Logan catches the way your lips press together for a moment, a subtle sign of contemplation as you piece together the sparse details you'd gathered about him. Clearing his throat, he shifts slightly in his seat. "Why'd you pick this town?" he tries, changing the subject.

"It was the cheapest option. Or at least, in comparison."

He chuckles as you groan, "So this was all a spontaneous decision."

"Hey, it's my turn to ask!" you interject, raising a hand in mock protest.

"Wasn't a question," he retorts playfully.

Nearly two hours slip by with this back-and-forth, lighthearted volley of exchanges. The diner empties out slowly, the hectic energy subsiding into a quieter hum as the two of you settle into a pleasant rhythm, taking turns to ask questions. Most of them are silly, designed to elicit a laugh or a quick anecdote - but the tone shifts here and there, venturing into deeper waters. The laughter doesn't disappear entirely, but it's interspersed with moments of thoughtful silence and understanding.

"So, what do you actually do? You know, besides running this bed and breakfast thing?"

Shaking his head, Logan rolls his eyes at your joke. "Work down at the lumberyard just like the next guy 'round here," he says with a vague gesture. "And what do you actually do?" His voice mimicking the same teasing tone you'd used.

The slight downturn of your smile takes him aback. "Journalist." It comes out strained, almost clipped. "I cover a bit of everything - well, whatever my boss throws at me anyway." The last part is delivered with a small, forced chuckle and he can't help but notice the change in your demeanour, the way your shoulders stiffen or how your jaw tightens. And despite not being the cause of it, regret fills him immediately, a sharp pang of guilt that settles in his stomach.

"Sounds... rough."

"Exactly why I needed a break."

Logan understands, with a surprising clarity, that pity is the last thing you want. And so, he steers away from anything of that sort, discarding the sympathetic expression that involuntarily surfaces. "Too bad your plans went to shit, huh?" he offers bluntly, his eyes, however, soften in the slightest.

Something akin to gratefulness shines in your smile, "Tell me about it."

The diffused light of the morning sun seeps through the frosted panes of the bedroom window. You stir awake, still incredibly tired as the remnants of a restless night hover like a persistent fog. Logan's bed had generously provided warm company for hours as you scoured for new accommodations in the area. Of course, with the holiday season, the internet had proven a frustrating dead end, most places booked solid during this time of year. Sleeping in your car was starting to feel like the only option until you stumbled upon a listing for a small lodge on the outskirts of town that had become vacant due to a last-minute cancellation.

The relief had been immense, a great wave washing over you as you secured the reservation. But now, as you slowly surface from sleep, the memory of that frantic search lingers, a dull ache pressing behind your eyes. Stretching out your stiff limbs, you squint at the alarm clock on the bedside table, wincing slightly at the early hour. And despite exhaustion weighing you down, a sense of purpose pushes you out of bed.

The wheels of your suitcase rumble against the wooden floorboards as you emerge from the hallway. Logan stands by the large window, his back a dark silhouette against the stark white landscape beyond. His gaze locks onto yours instantly, a look of sympathy - tinged with wry amusement - softens his features. "Hate to break it to you, but–" he begins, gesturing outside with a tilt of his head.

"Wha– oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me!"

A thick layer of fresh snow blankets the ground. The pine trees, a deep green last night, now laden with a heavy dusting, branches drooping under the weight. The scene is undeniably perfect, picturesque even. But the beauty is utterly lost on you in that moment. Everything is covered with a pristine white expanse that stretches as far as the eye can see. And there's simply no way in hell you can step out without sinking knee-deep, much less move your car even an inch.

"Happened overnight," his voice calm against your rising irritation. "Weather guy said it'll last a few days." Logan senses your distress, the dejected slump of your posture drawing genuine concern. "Listen, don't worry 'bout stayin' here. I don't mind at all, okay?" His reassurance eases your worries by a fraction, the sincerity and sheer honesty in his tone dispelling any hesitation creeping in. "'m serious," he adds gently.

"Thank you... so much, Logan. Really," you manage, the words catching in your throat.

And you are. Deeply, and truly grateful. Your carefully laid plans once again derailed by something beyond your control. Yet, it could have been so much worse. Thanks to Logan's unwavering support, his willingness to welcome a stranger, you're not completely shelterless while the snowstorm continues. The idyllic Christmas getaway you envisioned withers into a distant mirage. But in this moment, surrounded by the warmth of his presence, this feels more than enough.

Hours pass as you drift into a well-deserved nap on the couch, the hushed murmur of the wind outside lulling you into a peaceful slumber. The quiet doesn't last. A sudden bang echoes through the cabin, jolting you awake. "The fuck–" you murmur, disoriented as you stand up. Frowning at the interruption, you pad towards the noise, and eventually, stop dead in your tracks. "Holy shit."

Snow dusts his hair and shoulders, clinging to the rough fabric of his denim jacket. Logan, cheeks flushed red from the cold, wrestles a decent-sized fir tree through the back door. And judging by his grunts, it's evidently too wide for the opening. "Good, you're up. Hold the door, would ya?" he grumbles, muscles flexing against its considerable weight as he inches it further and further inside.

Shock momentarily freezes you in place, but his request snaps you out of your stupor. Rushing forward, you push the door with all your strength, the hinges groaning as you force it open at an awkward angle. With a final, mighty heave and a muttered curse, he manages to carry it fully indoors.

"What... is this?" you ask bewildered. A flurry of snowflakes and pine needles spread onto the floor, the crisp scent of nature filling the space. It's a wild and untamed thing, the sight of it so random and yet, somewhat festive.

"S'clearly a tree."

He doesn't cower from your glare. "Yes, I know it's a tree. What's it doing in your living room?"

Logan pauses briefly, and you can’t quite decipher if the deepening flush on his cheeks is solely from the lingering chill or something else entirely. He avoids your direct gaze for a second. "Figured since you're stuck here, might as well decorate a little." A studied nonchalance masks his attitude as if lugging a six-foot tree into his cabin during a raging blizzard is the most normal thing in the world.

Stunned doesn't even begin to capture the whirlwind of emotions churning within. Logan had already opened his home to you, and now, he's gone to the trouble of dragging this laughably enormous tree inside, all in an effort to cheer you up. Something spreads through your chest in an almost overwhelming capacity and the air suddenly feels intimate. And expressing the full extent of your appreciation feels too vulnerable, so you deflect instead. "Thought it wasn't really your thing."

"Yeah well, 'm runnin' a bed and breakfast as you said. Gotta keep my only guest happy, right?" His smile nearly melts you. The effect immediate and surprisingly potent. One that speaks of pure kindness and his quiet, unassuming warmth. One that makes the absurdity of a giant tree propped in the middle of his living room not only reasonable, but somehow perfectly right.

"I'll make sure to leave a four-star rating."

"Four?"

"I know you burnt something yesterday."

The evening comes quickly and time flies, surprisingly so, as you and Logan get to decorating. The lack of traditional ornaments proves to be only a minor obstacle because with a little creativity, colourful ribbons from old packages become tinsel, pinecones transform into rustic baubles, and even a string of spare light bulbs is carefully wrapped around the branches.

A natural rhythm falls into place as you work. You talk about random things: childhood memories, neighbours, and his startling lack of Christmas movie knowledge - a revelation that elicits a gasp of mock horror. There are moments when you stand close, brushing fingertips as you reach for the same thing. A shared look lasts a fraction too long, a breath catches in quiet air before one of you shyly steps aside. And strangely, despite the unusual circumstances that brought you together, despite the fact that you're practically strangers, it feels easy.

Fuck.

The shovel bites into the heavy snow with a satisfying crunch, lifting a thick slab that Logan heaves to the side of Diane's driveway. Earlier, her voice, tinged with desperation, had come through the answering machine, asking if he could possibly clear the mess in exchange for a warm dinner. He'd readily agreed, a gesture so typical in weather like this. But, in the course of the call, he'd let slip that he wasn't alone. And Diane, ever the hospitable and nosy soul, immediately insisted that you join in too.

He keeps a steady and even pace, breath puffing out in small white clouds in the fresh afternoon air. The muscles in his arms and back strain beneath his jacket as he clears a path through the deep drifts. You stand nearby - supposedly helping - bundled in your warmest clothes.

He's about to tease you for your lack of contribution, the words practically forming on his lips, when something cold and wet hits the back of his neck. Whirling around sharply with a surprised expression, he finds you grinning. The evidence is clear: melting remains of a snowball cling to your gloved hands, while a few snowflakes adorn your hair, creating a delicate halo of white around your face. With a few quick swipes, the snow is brushed away, his gaze not straying from yours.

"Now that was a mistake, darlin'."

Before he can retaliate, you turn and bolt. It's a comical attempt at an escape, a sort of waddling run rather than a sprint. Within seconds, he gains distance and tackles you gently, sending you both tumbling into a soft pile of snow. Laughter bubbles up and then fades, leaving Logan staring down at you. Inches apart, noses almost touching. A strange energy hangs in the air, pulling him imperceptibly closer.

"You kids'll catch a cold playing in that!"

He huffs a laugh, the sound a little breathless, a little unsteady, before pushing himself up. "Don't worry Diane, 'm takin' real good care of her," he yells back, extending a hand towards you.

"I'm sure you are," she mutters to herself knowingly. "C'mon in, dinner's ready!"

The kitchen table groans under the weight of the food: a glistening roast chicken sits proudly in the center, surrounded by steaming bowls of creamy mashed potatoes, green beans and thick slices of homemade bread. Diane bustles around the table, refilling your plates, urging you to try the gravy, her face beaming with satisfaction.

She shifts her attention to you, asking about your life, your hobbies, your family. Logan catches himself staring more than once, a faint blush rising as he diverts his gaze to the food. But the pull is undeniable; his eyes keep returning, hooked as if by an invisible thread.

Dinner passes in a warm haze of hearty conversation and fond memories. "Is this your son?" you ask, carrying the dishes to the sink. A framed photograph rests on the bookshelf near the doorway. Light falls onto the glass, reflecting a gentle glow on the smiling faces within.

"Yes, my Charlie. Real sweetheart that boy, calls every week to check in. He works down in the city, busy as can be. I haven't seen him in... it must be nearly two years now." The lines around her eyes crinkle slightly as she dusts the picture. "But Logan's been a blessing, I tell you. Always there for me."

"Don't go spreadin' that 'round. Can't have people thinkin' I give out special treatment," he retorts playfully, leaning against the counter.

"Oh, I think everyone can see who you're sweet on."

Logan shifts slightly, his smile faltering at the comment. A redness creeps up his neck, betraying his composure as he steals a glance at your stunned expression. Clearing his throat a little rougher than normal, he turns abruptly to the front door. "Gonna get some firewood."

A gust of wind, sharp and sudden as a physical blow, smacks against him the moment he steps outside. He gathers a few logs, the rough bark scraping against his fingers, but his mind remains stubbornly elsewhere. As he retraces his steps to the front porch, the gentle lilt of Diane's voice filters through the walls: "Could you get the door, honey?"

The door swings inwards, and his breath hitches immediately. Suspended just inches above, dangling from a slender crimson ribbon, hangs a sprig of mistletoe, its pale berries gleaming. Your gaze follows his, an embarrassed chuckle slipping out. From somewhere behind, Diane hums, a sound that resonates with blatant intention. The weight of the firewood in his arms increases tenfold as he meets your eyes. He can’t quite decipher the expression in them – amusement, a hint of nervousness, and something else he can’t quite place. "You don't... have to–" he mumbles.

Then, your attention dips down to his lips, a fleeting glance that sends a jolt of electricity through his body, momentarily stilling his heartbeat. He feels frozen, every muscle taut, the firewood heavy and forgotten. But at the very last second, you turn your head and press a kiss to his cheek instead.

The cherry of his cigar burns a steady ember. He leans against the rough-hewn logs of his cabin wall, the wood pressing into his back. The ghost of your lips on his cheek persists, a phantom touch that caresses his skin long after you’ve moved away. Logan draws deeply on the cigar, the smoke winding upwards in wisps, obscuring the stars above. He's only known you for a few days. So how could this feeling, this unsettling, foreign tinge of exhilaration, possibly exist?

"Hey."

The single word, soft yet distinct in the quiet night, floats like a whispered secret. Darkness traces the lines of your face, casting delicate shadows that accentuate your features. "Hey."

"Aren't you cold?"

"Run pretty warm," he replies, smoke escaping his mouth as he takes another drag. "Sorry ‘bout Diane. She can get a little–"

"No. That's alright." With a slight, almost languid wave of your hand, you brush aside his apology. "She's quite fond of you," you whisper, accompanied by a subtle upturn of your lips.

Logan huffs lightly as the silence returns. The moonlight, filtered through the branches overhead, creates dappled patterns of light and shadow across the ground. “So,” he begins, his gaze locking onto yours, “this... everythin' you hoped for?”

"No." Your response is immediate. A small, genuine smile blossoms on your face at his reaction, sending a wave of unexpected warmth surging through his chest - a warmth that has nothing to do with the slowly burning cigar held loosely between his fingers. "It's better."

He fights hard to school his expression, to maintain a neutral facade, not wanting to reveal how much your simple happiness affects him. A furrow appears between your brows, and your lips part slightly as if you’re about to speak, then hesitate. "What're you thinkin'?" he asks gently.

"Work. I don't wanna go back," you confess. The heavy sigh that follows speaks volumes. "It's just... not what I thought it would be. It's not what I want anymore." The dejection in your voice is palpable, a sadness that makes him ache to reach out and offer comfort.

Logan sees the weariness etched on your face, the way your gaze drifts towards the dark silhouette of the distant mountains as if seeking solace in the vast landscape. "Then what's keepin' you there?" he wonders aloud, an instinctive pull bringing him a step closer.

You pause almost abruptly, the flow of conversation halting as if it hit an invisible wall. The soft vulnerability that had been present just moments before vanishes, replaced by a guardedness that makes him instantly regret his question. "I should get some rest."

“Wait–”

“Good night, Logan,” you mumble, the door clicking shut behind you.

Hi, Mr. Grinch!

Cindy Lou?! What are you doing up there?

I came to see you. No one should be alone on Christmas.

The scene plays along as you and Logan sit beside each other on the couch. He’d suggested the movie, feigning a sudden interest in Christmas classics. But you knew the real reason. The insistent buzz of work emails had been plaguing your phone all day, and he’d seen the way your eyes kept flicking down to the screen, the shadow of worry that clouded your features. This was his quiet way of offering respite - a gentle distraction.

The light from the television flashes across his profile, illuminating the strong line of his jaw and the curve of his lips. He seems completely absorbed by the movie, but a stillness in his posture tells you he’s not as engrossed as he pretends to be.

A wave of drowsiness washes over you, your eyelids fluttering closed and then snapping open again in a futile attempt to stay awake. But the warmth of the fire, the muted hum of the movie, and Logan's comforting presence prove too much to resist. Your head lolls to the side, almost of its own accord, finding a soft landing against his shoulder.

The sharp clatter of pots and pans colliding rouses you from sleep. Then, a savory blend of garlic, herbs, and something undeniably rich and tomatoey, wafts through the air. As you round the corner to investigate, your jaw drops.

There, stands Logan, putting the final touches on a scene that looks straight out of a romcom. A small, round table has been pulled away from the wall and positioned near the window. Candlelight dances on the polished wood surface, reflecting in the delicate glassware he’d clearly unearthed from some hidden corner of the cabin. Two steaming bowls of pasta sit on either side.

His head lifts as you appear, some kind of hopeful affection shimmering in his eyes much like the flames themselves. He quickly steps back from the table, as if caught in the act of some grand romantic gesture. The glow from your makeshift yet charmingly decorated Christmas tree in the living room spills into the kitchen. It’s all so carefully arranged, so thoughtfully put together, that it takes your breath away.

"What's all this?"

"Nothin' special... just thought it'd be nice. Christmas Eve n' all."

"I'm... impressed," you stammer nervously, but the sentiment feels inadequate on your tongue.

Logan ducks his head rather shyly - a small almost boyish action that flushes his rugged features. He then moves with a newfound purpose, reaching for the back of the chair closest to you and pulling it out in a smooth motion. And in that moment, there’s no world where you’d say no. The thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

The meal had been delicious, but it was the shared conversation, the easy laughter that truly filled you. "Maybe I'll have to bump you up to five stars."

"Hm, that so?"

"I said maybe."

He chuckles, holding your gaze for a beat longer before rising suddenly. Static bursts into the room as he fiddles with the radio, a brief, crackling intrusion before giving way to fragmented voices and snippets of music. He continues turning the dial until a slow melody emerges. Spinning around, Logan extends a hand towards you, his palm facing upwards in a clear invitation. "C'mon, trust me," he whispers.

Hesitantly, you grasp his fingers - his touch gentle and firm. As you draw closer, the scent of woodsmoke and his cologne crowd your lungs. The movement feels surprisingly natural as if you’ve danced a hundred times before.

"This is... the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

At your words, Logan’s hand tightens on your waist. The subtle change in his posture, the slight tilt of his head, the way his focus lies solely on you, steal any semblance of logic in your mind, replacing it with a dizzying rush of anticipation.

"Yeah? You deserve it," he murmurs back, his voice low and husky. "I like seein' you happy."

You make me happy. The words tremble on the tip of your tongue, daring to break free. The distance between your lips is almost nonexistent, a hair’s breadth separating you from the building tension. Time seems to slow, each second stretching into an eternity as you both lean in, the promise of a kiss hanging heavy in the air. You can almost taste him, a sweet ache swelling in your chest.

But the jarring tone of an emergency broadcast shatters the moment. “The severe snowstorm warning previously in effect for this region has now been lifted. A true Christmas miracle! Tomorrow will bring clear skies and–”

As you walk side-by-side along a beaten-down path through the mountains, the crisp breeze nipping at your cheeks, he steals glances at you, drinking in the sight of your joy. The moon paints the world in silver, mirroring the pure happiness that had been shining in your eyes. Logan had spent the day showing you around town: the local bakery, the family-owned bookstore. You’d even braved the icy air for a short walk along the frozen lake, nearly slipping until his quick reflexes caught you just in time.

He stops as the path opens up onto a breathtaking vista. The town below sprawls out like a miniature constellation, each house a tiny spark of light against the dark canvas of the valley. Strings of colourful lights crisscross the streets, weaving a tapestry of festive cheer. Logan watches you, a quiet satisfaction settling in his chest. He can see the awe etched on your face as you absorb all the details.

"What'd you think?"

"It's... beautiful," you exhale.

"Thought you'd like it." He shifts closer, subtle yet deliberate as his chest brushes lightly against your shoulder. A wildfire courses through his veins, temptation burning away his doubts. He’d wanted to kiss you - countless times. The impulse had been a constant undercurrent for days, a silent hum beneath the surface of every conversation, every shared look. Leaning in, breath warm against your ear, he whispers your name. "Tell me 'm not crazy. Tell me you don't want this and I'll stop."

"Cause darlin', 'm runnin' out of reasons why I shouldn't," he murmurs.

And then, you turn. The sweetness of your lips becomes almost intoxicating and unlike anything he ever imagined. Logan's hand trails up your side, mapping the curve of your waist. With a soft sigh, he dips his head further, deepening the kiss. All the pent-up tension comes crashing down as you pull away. It's a rush, a torrent that sweeps through him, rendering him breathless and nearly disoriented.

His thumb caresses your cheek, a silent plea that echoes the longing in his tone. "Don't... don't leave."

"Logan... I can't." His heart sinks. It’s not a dramatic plummet, but a slow, agonizing descent. Regret stings your eyes as his hand falls away.

"Why not? You're not happy workin' that job. Stay here, you'll find somethin'," he tries desperately.

"Stop. Please," you whisper, choked with emotion. "Let's just go back."

Heartache keeps Logan tossing and turning all night. Sleep had offered no escape, only a relentless replay of yesterday's conversation. His eyes burn, gritty and heavy as he pushes himself up on his elbows. But a strange unease stirs in his gut. He can't sense your presence. The air feels empty, lacking your familiar warmth and energy.

Panic flares in his mind. Did he push you away? Did you leave in the middle of the night? A cold dread grips his heart. He throws the blanket off, feet hitting the cold wooden floor with a thud.

Nausea rolls over him. A hollow ache in the pit of his stomach inches through his entire body. His hands tremble as he rakes them through his hair, breath catching in his throat. He’s about to give in to the rising despair, the crushing weight of believing you’re gone when a faint scent drifts in through the slightly open window. Relief knocks him hard, so intense his knees almost buckle.

"Fuck, I thought–" he starts, heading towards you.

"I quit."

Logan freezes, his brows furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"I quit my job." The corners of your mouth curve into a smile, and his heart leaps at the sight. "Running out of reasons why I shouldn't," you chuckle softly, fingers lacing together at the nape of his neck, the touch sending a shiver down his spine. "But next year, we're getting real decorations," you add playfully, and he grins.

"I'll buy some today, sweetheart."

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little-jana · 1 month ago

Text

"Christmas With The Hotchner Boys"

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: kissing, mentions of being alone, being called a "good girl", Jack being the cutest little Christmas elf

Words: 1.65k

Summary: Nobody should be alone on Christmas, the Hotchners make sure of that!

a/n: This is for anyone that feels lonely during the holidays! Merry Christmas! xo

Christmas wasn’t supposed to feel this lonely.

I stared at the blinking lights of my tiny tree, tucked into the corner of my living room. The scent of pine lingered faintly, but the holiday spirit hadn’t quite settled over me. It was my first Christmas in years spent away from my family, a choice born out of necessity rather than desire. A looming work deadline and a snowstorm that canceled flights had left me here—alone, or so I thought.

My phone buzzed on the counter, drawing me out of my thoughts.

Hotch.

Seeing his name flash on my screen made my heart flutter, a reaction I’d grown used to over the months. Aaron Hotchner had a way of showing up exactly when I needed him, even if he didn’t realize it.

I picked up the phone, trying to keep my voice steady. “Hotch, hey. What’s up?”

“Hi,” he said, his deep voice warm and familiar. “I just wanted to check in. I know you said you weren’t going home for Christmas. How are you holding up?”

I smiled softly, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’m fine. Just a little... quiet around here.”

There was a pause, the kind of comfortable silence I’d grown to appreciate with him. “I thought that might be the case,” he said finally. “That’s why I’m outside your building.”

I blinked, certain I’d misheard him. “You’re... what?”

“Outside,” he repeated, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Can you buzz me in?”

I hurried to the intercom, my heart pounding as I pressed the button. A few moments later, there was a soft knock at my door.

When I opened it, there he was, standing in the hallway with a small wrapped package in one hand and a faint smile on his face. But he wasn’t alone.

“Hi,” he said, stepping inside with Jack close behind him, clutching a box of cookies.

“Hi,” I said, my eyes flicking between the two of them. “What are you... what are you doing here?”

“Well, Jack and I were making cookies, and we realized we might’ve made too many,” Aaron said, his tone so casual it almost made me laugh. “And I didn’t want you to spend Christmas Eve alone.”

Jack grinned up at me, his cheeks pink from the cold. “Dad said we should come over because Christmas is better with friends.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat as I knelt down to Jack’s level. “Is that so?”

He nodded earnestly. “And we brought the good cookies! Not the burnt ones.”

I laughed softly, ruffling his hair. “Well, thank you for sharing. I’m honored.”

Aaron cleared his throat, holding out the wrapped package. “And this is for you.”

I took it carefully, my fingers brushing against his for a brief moment. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply.

I unwrapped the package slowly, revealing a leather-bound journal with a sleek, elegant design. It was beautiful, thoughtful, and so unmistakably him.

“You mentioned wanting to start journaling,” he said, almost shyly. “I thought this might help.”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away quickly. “Aaron, this is perfect. Thank you.”

Jack tugged on my sleeve, holding up the box. “Do you have a tree? We could put cookies under it for Santa.”

I glanced at Aaron, who gave me a small shrug and a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, leading Jack into the living room where my modest little tree stood.

Jack immediately set to work arranging cookies on a plate while I grabbed mugs for hot chocolate. Aaron followed me into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as I worked.

“You really didn’t have to do this,” I said, my voice soft.

He shrugged, his gaze warm and steady. “It didn’t feel right, leaving you alone tonight.”

“Still,” I said, meeting his eyes. “Thank you. It means a lot.”

He smiled then, that rare, genuine smile that made my heart ache in the best way. “You don’t have to thank me.”

When we returned to the living room, Jack was carefully inspecting the tree, his head tilted as he studied the decorations.

“It’s pretty,” he said, turning to me with a grin. “But it needs one more thing.”

“Oh?” I asked, crouching down beside him. “What’s that?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small star ornament, holding it up proudly. “We made this at school. Can I put it on?”

“Of course,” I said, helping him find the perfect spot near the top.

As Jack admired his handiwork, Aaron stepped closer, his arm brushing against mine. The warmth of his presence was grounding, and I felt myself relax in a way I hadn’t all night.

“Looks perfect,” Aaron said, his voice low enough that only I could hear.

I turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of us. His eyes were soft, full of something unspoken, and the air between us felt charged in a way that made my pulse quicken.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

His hand brushed against mine, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down my spine. “Merry Christmas,” he said, his tone warm and intimate.

Jack’s voice broke the moment, calling out from across the room. “Can we watch a movie?”

Aaron chuckled, stepping back. “What do you think?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” I said, my voice steadier now.

We spent the rest of the evening curled up on the couch, Jack nestled between us as we watched his favorite Christmas movie. His laughter filled the room, and for the first time in days, I felt a true sense of peace.

When the movie ended, Jack had fallen asleep, his head resting against Aaron’s shoulder. I helped Aaron tuck him into the spare bedroom, and as we stood in the doorway, watching Jack sleep, I felt a wave of emotion I couldn’t quite put into words.

“He’s amazing,” I said softly.

Aaron nodded, his expression tender as he looked at his son. “He is.”

We returned to the living room, and as I started tidying up, Aaron caught my wrist, stopping me.

“Leave it,” he said, his voice low.

I turned to face him, my breath catching at the intensity in his eyes.

“Aaron...”

He stepped closer, his hand still holding mine. “You don’t have to do everything alone, you know.”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not used to... this.”

“Letting someone in?” he asked, his tone gentle but firm.

I nodded, unable to find the words.

He smiled softly, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair from my face. “You’re doing a good job,” he murmured. “Better than you realize.”

The warmth in his voice made my chest tighten, and I felt my cheeks heat.

“Good girl,” he said, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning, and I felt my knees go weak. His gaze held mine, steady and unwavering, and I realized there was no hiding how much those words affected me.

“Aaron,” I whispered, my voice shaky.

He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my forehead. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Tears filled my eyes, and I reached up, wrapping my arms around him. His embrace was strong, reassuring, and I felt myself relax against him completely.

“Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his lips brushing against my temple.

“Merry Christmas,” I said softly, my heart full to bursting.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds one shot #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff

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flemingology · 2 months ago

Note

“i might hate you, but i couldn’t bare the thought of you spending christmas alone” for leah williamson

christmas confessions ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: your christmas plans are interrupted by the british weather conditions, leading to some unexpected confessions from your arsenal vice-captain

warnings: none

wc: 3.7k

A snowstorm. Of all things that could go wrong, a snowstorm was the one that seemed to put a hold on your Christmas plans.

Recently having transferred from Lyon to Arsenal, you'd gotten your head down and focussed on your football. Normally, you'd go home every couple weeks just to be back with your family, but with your recent move you wanted to make sure you secured your spot in the starting eleven. You worked relentlessly hard for weeks on end, not allowing yourself a break, and you were proud of yourself. Really, really proud. Your football journey hadn't been the nicest one yet – your academy years littered with injuries and setbacks, you were over the moon to have finally settled in Arsenal's starting eleven. But you were starting to feel the effects of your hard work, and you started feeling like you needed some time away. To be with your friends and family back home.

Finally, though, the winter break arrived. You had wrapped up the final training session of the calendar year a couple days ago, and you were now set to go home. A couple days, just the last week of the year, before you'd go back to England. A short flight, setting to depart at 3pm, arriving at a little before 5. Your parents would pick you up from the airport and you'd go for dinner, have a drink, before all going back to your childhood home and just enjoying each other's company. But that was without taking England's horrendous winter weather into accord.

It had been horrible the whole week. Freezing cold, snow and rain all throughout the week – it had already caused you a bunch of trouble in trying to get to the grounds in time, but you completely forgot that air traffic could also be affected by the weather. So here you were, in Heathrow, staring at the departure screen as flight after flight got cancelled. Not delayed, not moved, cancelled.

Left stranded, you called the first person you always went to when struggling, needing to rant about the situation.

—

Alessia was spending her Wednesday afternoon the same way she had done for the past 2 years since making her move to Arsenal; getting coffee and a pastry with Leah. The two blondes had grown closer since Alessia made the move to London, their friendship no longer held back by the distance between Manchester and the British capital.

It was nice, their little routine. Football training that day or not, they'd find themselves in a different coffee shop every week to try out their blends, or in Leah's case, their hot chocolate or tea. They would talk about anything and everything, catching each other up on whatever hadn't been said yet at the Arsenal training grounds.

The pair were happily chatting away over a coffee and a mint tea as Alessia's ringtone went off. The striker checked the caller ID and excused herself to Leah, answering the call. She knew you were meant to be on your flight right now, so for you to be calling there must be something wrong. "Y/n? Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Less, my flight got cancelled! The weather has gotten too bad in the past couple hours and everything's been cancelled. I've asked whether it can be rescheduled, but there's nothing free anymore this week. The next available flight was January 2nd, which is a joke! I don't know what I'm supposed to do right now, my family have been preparing for me to come over for the past couple days and I don't want to disappoint them. I just, I don't know-"

"Hey, hey, y/n, take a breath, it's okay." Alessia tried to calm you down, sensing your nerves through the phone. She shot Leah a look, who was sporting a confused frown. "The situation is out of your hands, love. You can't do anything about it. I know it sucks." Alessia heard you sigh on the other end of the call, probably feeling quite defeated over the whole situation. "I know you've been looking forward to seeing your family. As soon as everything's cleared again, we'll get you on the first plane to Germany. I promise you that. Football be damned."

You chuckled on the other end of the call, and Alessia was glad you managed to muster up a small smile. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks, Less." "Don't mention it. I'm here for you, you know that. Do you need me to come pick you up from the airport?" Alessia knew you packed quite heavily and it was going to be a chore to get all of your stuff into a taxi. "No, that's fine. I think I'm gonna sit down and have a coffee here, calm down a bit, and then call a cab. I'll be fine."

Alessia reluctantly agreed, only after having you promise that you'd call her if you needed her help, or if anything went wrong. She finished up the phone call a couple moments later and put her phone back into her pocket with a deep sigh. "She's gutted."

Leah cocked her eyebrows and let the silence linger a little longer, taking a sip from her hot chocolate. "You don't have to pretend with me, you know?" Alessia added. Confusion shot across the defender's face at her words. "What do you mean by that?" The younger girl chuckled and shook her head slightly. "Leah, I know why you're distant with her. But you don't have to be that way when she's not around, god she's at Heathrow Airport of all places. You can let your guard down."

Leah took a deep breath and set her cup down, visibly struggling with how to proceed with the conversation. "I don't know, Less. I just feel like if I don't talk about it, it'll go away. I know I'm being unreasonable, but I'm just protecting myself. I don't want to go through all that hassle again. Last time I dated someone in the work field, it didn't work out. I don't wanna put myself through that again."

"Who's talking about dating, Leah? I know you like her. I'm not saying you have to voice that, but you could at least be civil with the girl. She's overthinking it like mad. She asks me all the time whether she did something wrong. And she's nervous about it, seen as you're the vice-captain at Arsenal too. She thinks you don't like her and is scared she's gonna lose her spot on the team because of that. All I'm asking of you is a little human decency, to treat her like you treat other people."

Leah looked down and started fidgeting with the rings around her fingers. "Yeah, I don't know, maybe." Alessia put her hand on Leah's causing the defender to look up. "It's okay. Just don't be a dick, okay? It's not because you don't have one that you have to be one."

—

When you arrived home a couple hours later that day, suitcases still packed in the corner of the living room, sprawled out over your couch, her caller ID was the last one you'd expected to pop up on your screen.

Leah Williamson.

You sighed deeply and rubbed your hands down your face, not feeling like dealing with whatever your Arsenal teammate wanted to scold you about now. She was probably rewatching a game and felt the need to lecture you about all the things you did wrong, and you weren't in the mood for that. You were her defensive partner after all, and you knew damn well she had high standards, not only for herself but also for others, but it was the winter break after all. Tactics be damned.

You let the call run out, breathing a sigh of relief and settled back into the couch, impatiently waiting for sleep to take over to rid you of your foul mood. Not on Leah's watch, though. No more than a couple seconds had passed before you ringtone sounded through the living room again. Wanting to get it over with so you could get some rest, you decided to pick up.

"What's the deal, Williamson? I'd like to enjoy my break, if I'm allowed? You can lecture me all you want when we're back at the club." You knew you were being curt, maybe slightly unreasonable, but your heightened emotions combined with how the defender had treated you ever since you joined Arsenal made you snap.

"Hey, hey, chill, I'm not calling to lecture you, y/n. God, do you think I'm some fucking loser who does nothing but think about football on their break?"

You didn't like the way this conversation was going, despite only having spoken a couple sentences to one another. You sat up and rubbed a hand down the side of your neck, closing your eyes as you slowly inhaled and exhaled – trying to calm yourself.

"Sorry. My mistake. Why are you calling?"

You heard shuffling on the other end of the phone, the rustling of what sounded like a jacket and shoes being taken off. Of course. Coffee with Less. She probably overheard your conversation with her earlier.

"I was just with Less," she started. Bingo. "and I heard about your cancelled flight. I'm sorry, I know you were looking forward to seeing your family."

You weren't quite used to this sentiment coming from Leah, the England captain having barely said a civil word to you ever since you joined her childhood club. It's not like you didn't speak, it's just that she made it seem like a chore every time she had to string a conversation together with you on the receiving end. Short, blunt, curt, sometimes outright disrespectful. You'd learned to accept that not everybody was always going to like you, but the least you'd expect from people was some basic human decency – something you thought Leah lacked sometimes.

You audibly sighed. "Yeah, it's crap. But I'll be fine. Now that you got that over with, what's the real reason?"

You heard a quiet snicker coming from the other end of the call, struggling to see what was so funny about your conversation. "There's no... other reason, y/n. I just wanted to call and check in. You know, defensive partner and all, just calling to make sure you're not drowning in self-pity."

You could hear the smile that tugged at her lips as she spoke out those final couple words. "Well, thanks, I guess? Thanks for checking in. Have a good rest of your night, Leah." You lowered the phone and were about to end the call, wanting nothing more than to fall back in the cosy bundle of pillows and blankets you'd set up for yourself.

"Oi, wait! I wasn't done!" You grumbled something incoherently under your breath before bringing the phone back to your ear. "I'm listening."

"This is gonna sound really weird, I know, but just let me speak. I was wondering if, if maybe you, you know-" A couple moments of silence followed and you were about to speak up, but Leah interrupted those plans. "If, you know, if you were free to come spend Christmas Eve with me?"

You frowned, taking a moment to gather your thoughts. Leah Williamson, Arsenal teammate, who to your best knowledge absolutely despised you, is inviting you for Christmas Eve? A joke.

"Uhm, I guess, well-" You didn't get much further than that before the blonde's voice interrupted you. "Look, I know how it sounds. You're probably thinking I'm just doing this out of pity and sympathy, you know captain things and all that, but that's not it. I don't have plans, yours have been cancelled, let's spend it together."

If you weren't so caught up in your own thoughts, you would've noticed the slight waver in Leah's voice. She was beyond nervous on the other side of the phone. You'd never said this much to each other in such a short space of time, let alone the contents of what was being discussed. You'd never willingly been in the same room. If not for bonding nights, you'd probably never see Leah outside of the Arsenal training grounds.

You didn't get it, though. You'd spent countless nights wracking your brain as to why Leah would treat you like she did. But you blanked every single time. It gnawed on you. You wanted her to respect you, to acknowledge you, to treat you like she treated others. But she made that seem like the worst thing in the world. Unimaginable, even.

"So?" Leah's voice broke up your train of thoughts and you scrambled together a response without really thinking about what you were saying. "Uhm, sure. I guess. Yeah. Just text me the logistics and I'll be there." You didn't really feel like going, but you also didn't want to give Leah more reason to not speak to you. And in all honesty, you wanted the conversation to be over so you could finally get some sleep.

"Oh! Okay! Yeah, okay, that's great. Thanks. Okay. I'll text you. You text me too, okay? I'll see you then."

Your own goodbyes got interrupted by the tone of the call ending, a confused frown etched on your face at how nervous Leah had suddenly seemed. Not wanting to give it much more thought, you turned off your phone's ringer and threw it on the coffee table, finally drowning yourself in a very well-deserved sleep.

—

Tuesday night, December 24th. 5:23pm. Approximately one hour left until you had to be at Leah's. Of all people, Leah's. When you caught Alessia up about the plans the two of you had made, she reacted slightly suspicious. So much so that you thought she had a hand in it, but she quickly reassured you that was not at all the case. Still, she didn't seem surprised. If anything, she thought it was good. An opportunity for the two of you to just start all over again.

You couldn't lie, that sounded good to you too. You wanted to be friends with Leah, but you also wouldn't just forget how she treated you during your first couple months at Arsenal. That's not something you could forgive and forget through a pity invitation to spend Christmas Eve together.

Yet, you found yourself struggling to find something to wear. You wanted to dress nice, but not too nice, because you're just two friends spending the holidays together. Not lovers, not dating, god, probably not even friends. Teammates? Acquaintances, maybe. At best.

You finally settled on a light green dress. It complimented your body just right, accentuating your curves in all the right places but not too tight. You put on some light make-up and finished off your outfit with some accessories. You checked your appearance about twelve times in your full-body mirror in the living room, 'just to be sure', before eventually grabbing your car keys off the kitchen counter and exiting your apartment block. You debated walking to Leah's, it was a 10-minute walk tops, but that felt like putting too much trust in your pencil heels.

3 quick knocks on the door and a couple seconds later, you were met with a version of your defensive counterpart you'd never seen before. She was dressed in a pair of black slack pants, paired with a white button-up shirt. She had left the top two buttons open, offering a perfect view of the delicate golden necklace gracing her tanned skin. Definitely self-tanner, though, because God forbid the United Kingdom gets a sliver of sun anywhere past September – but you spare her the red cheeks by not pointing it out. Her hair was loose, falling graciously on her shoulders, a welcome change from the bun or ponytail she always had it in during training or games.

"Hey," you muttered, once you realized neither of you had said a word since Leah opened her front door. Unbeknownst to you, while you were eyeing her up, Leah also let her eyes glide over your figure, taking in your appearance. She thought you looked good. Really good. Too good for her own good. That good that she'd probably struggle to not mention it every 5 minutes, when conversation obviously dies down for the 30th time that evening. Because what does she talk about for hours with someone she always pretended to dislike?

Turns out, there's a lot to talk about. Uncomfortable silences? You two don't know those. And while it's been good, it's been comfortable and easy, you still felt quite apprehensive about the whole ordeal. And you could tell by Leah's body language that she was feeling similar to you. Conversation had been flowing easily, but it felt like you were just scratching the surface. Like there was something underneath that needed to be addressed, but neither of you felt like digging deep enough to be able to bring it up. If anything, you thought, that's Leah's job. After all, she was the one to invite you to spend Christmas Eve together after she spent months making you feel like she despised you.

And that's what she did. Eventually. After lots of coaxing and promises that you wouldn't be mad and you understood – you were quite mad and you definitely didn't understand – Leah finally mustered up the courage to talk to you about the past months.

She opened up about everything. How she'd been excited when she learned about your move to the club, at first. But when you came to visit the training grounds on your first day, that sentiment completely changed. Leah had always found you quite attractive, but that wasn't something that had to be dealt with seen as you were across the North Sea and not someone she had to deal with in her day-to-day life. So, even though nothing had been explored between the two of you, not even a single conversation strung together, she already started closing herself off.

She told you about how she kicked herself for it day after day, that she realized damn well how bad she was treating you. She knew that you didn't know where it came from, and that hurt her even more. She didn't want to hurt you, didn't want to treat you any less good than she did with the rest of her teammates, but she just couldn't let her guard down around you. Not with the way you looked, the way you carried yourself on and off the pitch, the way you worked so tirelessly to be the best version of yourself day after day after day. She admired you, really. But she didn't allow herself to feel that. To acknowledge that. To acknowledge you.

"I know it sounds stupid. Trust me, I know. You don't know how many nights I've laid awake just thinking about how poorly I was treating you. But I just couldn't bring myself to not do it. Because that would mean I'd eventually snap and just... tell you everything I've just told you."

You slowly nodded, not trusting your voice just yet after having just been quiet for what has been the best part of 20 minutes. You let her come to you, let her talk until she felt like she said it all, because you knew if you interrupted her she'd maybe forget things.

"And, for the record, I don't want anything in return from you. God, no, I just thought you deserved to know. And no, I didn't invite you out of pity tonight. I just saw an opportunity open up when I learned about your cancelled flight and I knew I had to take it. I couldn't let it go any longer and I needed to tell you. So hence, the invitation. I just hope I didn't ruin the rest of our night now, by confessing all of this."

You chuckled, slightly shaking your head before repositioning yourself a little on Leah's couch. You ran a hand through your hair and breathed out a shaky exhale, locking eyes with Leah as you looked back up at her.

"You're ridiculous, Leah. Honestly, I get it, I think, but treating me like that for this reason, is ridiculous. And I know you know it, but that doesn't mean that I can't tell you too, because-" Leah tried to interrupt you, probably to apologize again, but you held up your hand to signal that you weren't done speaking yet.

"Because, you made me feel like shit, Le. You made me feel like I wasn't worthy of that starting spot at Arsenal, despite knowing damn well that I was doing good in our backline. You made me feel like I didn't belong in the squad, like I did something wrong, like I did something to upset you. It was so conflicting, and it stressed me out. Real bad. It's not a nice feeling when your vice-captain doesn't like you. Or, rather, when you feel like your vice-captain doesn't like you. I know now that that wasn't the case, but that doesn't fix your case."

Leah looked down, fidgeting with her ring-clad fingers. You continued. "Look, Leah, it sucked. But now at least I know what was behind it. And I don't wanna keep being mad at you. Because truthfully, I want to be closer to you, closer with you. I wanna be treated like you treat other people, okay? We can explore whatever needs to be explored later, but first I just want us to be civil with each other."

The blonde defender looked up at you, hastily nodding when she realized you were waiting for some kind of response. "Yeah, yeah, god, yeah, that would be nice." She slightly stumbled over her words, trying to form coherent thoughts in a mind that was running at a 100 miles an hour. You scooted a little closer to her, closing a bit of the space that was between the both of you on the couch and slowly moved your hand closer to hers, that was laying dormant in her lap.

You searched her eyes for any uncertainty, concern, and then softly laid your hand on top of hers, giving it a slight squeeze. "Thank you for opening up," you said softly. "It means a lot to me. I know how you are with feelings." Leah twisted her hand and intertwined your fingers. "Thank you for listening. And thank you for giving me another chance. I promise I'll be better. Better for you."

"I know you will."

#woso #woso community #woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc #england wnt #lionesses

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cutehoons02 · 2 months ago

Text

Snow angel

*pairing: popular frat?boy Jake x good girl

*trope: fake dating/Christmas vacation

*tags: Jake has a little crush on the protagonist, touching, shy girl with people but not with Jake, christmas trope,kiss, fluffy, green flag

*synopsis: Jake had a little crush on you but in those few times he saw you, he never had the courage to approach you but thanks to a project organized by the university he would have the way of talking and maybe ask you to be his fake girlfriend for a certain time of the year

comments are appreciated

*word count: 5.8k (Tell me if you like this kind of stories:) my masterlist

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It had been snowing in Seoul for almost a week and a thick layer of snow was washing the entire university football field, there were lots of snowmen and some snow angels formed by the shapes of the boys who had jumped to the ground and moving they had formed forms that looked like little angels, Y/n loved everything that represented winter and would dream of spending time as did all the boys of his age going shopping for Christmas markets, playing under the snow, make snow angels and who can also give his first kiss under a romantic snowstorm but being conspicuously shy and always full of the study had never experienced these things but maybe an angel human to how popular with the obsession for lego, music, and physics would have expressed some of his desires...

Seoul University had decorated the entire inner hall leading to the various classrooms with countless Christmas decorations. Still, one thing that made students smile and excited was a small Christmas house in the middle of the large entrance with a small chair inside, a table, and a stack of sheets with all the names of the students in that department and a couple of young adults dressed as elves who had to mate at their leisure couples who according to them should know each other and make each other wish person had written in that little sheet of Christmas requests.

"Y/n stop getting paranoid for nothing, you just have to write in the note 4 wishes or things that you would like to do with this hypothetical person during December, i recommend you also add your ig ame or your number, but maybe it’s better your name ig and in a week we will find out if this person will write to you because meanwhile i already know that even if they sent the letter of the other guy you would never write"

"Why should i ever choose the male option, you know that i'm shy, especially with males i would like to make friends first, of course, i have you and Sunaa but i would love" Do not stop talking that a boy dressed as elf called you to enter the house.

"Y/n in the option you choose that the letter receives a guy, you can start making friends even of the opposite sex" your best screamed and made the sign of two thumbs up and started waiting for you outside the long line.

The house was decorated with Christmas stuff and light music coming from the speakers with a shy smile you greeted the two boys and the girl put the sheet, of Christmas paper covered with little snowflakes, and at the top, you could circle 2 options send this sheet to a boy or a girl and felt your heart beat too fast for your taste but maybe your best friend was right and you had to leave a little bit from your comfort zone and start doing "friendship" with some guy so you chose the option that the letter could receive only one guy. In the center you had to write 4 things that you wanted to do at that time with that person and then write because you chose to participate, you wrote all your requests and finally, you wrote your full name, your email, and in the contact section your instagram name and if you were part of some club so the person receiving the letter had some options on how they could look for you, and you wrote that you were in the radio club of the economics and mathematics department.

Inside the radio booth, you looked at the big windows that looked out on the big football field, there were a lot of people taking pictures or running and throwing snowballs, you would have wanted to be out there too but you had to spend another half hour in the heat and look at the schedule but when you saw that you had to announce that within a few minutes, everyone would be acquainted with who would make a couple slight anxiety your body.

You didn’t talk a lot on the radio because you hated how your voice sounded but at that hour you were alone because almost all the other students who were part of the club had class so you pressed the green button and when the song ended you took the long microphone and spoke to all students.

"Good morning to all the students of the Department of Economics and Mathematics, how are you? Don’t tell me you forgot what day it is because in exactly 55 seconds you will find out who you were paired with for the project put into place "Spend your Christmas holidays with a new friend", now to break the ice a little and not to make you feel how anxious or shy to write to your future partner i play one of the most beautiful Christmas songs as well as Last Christmas by George Michael."

You pressed the red button and leaned on the swivel chair and a long breath came out of your lips but your anxiety became even greater when you saw in the WhatsApp group that everyone had received the email, you didn’t dare to open it but you were too curious to know that you wanted the guy you had been "paired" with so when you read the first point you looked at your phone with an interrogative look, what it meant that the boy who had written the requests wanted to have for his Christmas holidays a fake girlfriend because he was tired of hearing his family say that he was a fratboy and that in 22 years he had never brought with him a girl only because they did they think he was not capable of a serious relationship?

You slammed the boy’s profile and your mouth opened slightly in astonishment when you saw to whom that profile belonged, it was simply a bad joke of fate, it couldn’t be true that you were acclimated to Jake Sim and one of the most popular guys on campus and in your department. With what sense they thought to pair you with one of the most shy, sweet girls, with all the votes awarded to a frat boy who had taken the scholarship only for his football skills, every time you saw him with his group of friends he always had some different girl. To your bad luck, he read your wish request and you did not know if it was him that loser to ask people disguised as an elf to find them a fake girl with whom to spend the Christmas holidays or if you were the loser who attended and wrote that you wanted to give your first kiss under the snow or walk with a stranger in the Christmas markets.

You, your best friend and Sunaa were going out in front of the sports field to see live the multiple snowmen and some had strange shapes of animals instead of others had even jerseys of the football team of the university, you loved to see how all the people thanks to little ice flakes all became slightly more good and romantic with everyone, you leaned down for a moment to take pictures so that you could post them on the radio profile but after a few seconds, you heard a snowball hit your head and slightly annoyed and surprised you saw that it had been thrown by one of the two guys who were just steps away from you.

One of the two was slightly taller than the other guy and besides being dressed as a Michelin man for the too-cold he also had a black balaclava that covered almost all his face apart from some dark hair tufts that came out you could not understand who was but instead the boy with white jacket slightly untied on the neck, with the softest hair you ever saw and that little smile he had thanks to his lips slightly fat but cracked from the cold you knew who they belonged to, Jake Sim as well as the guy who received your letter and you his written in 4 points that he was looking for a fake girlfriend and that would make it possible any wish had expressed his "companion" if she had spent the holidays with him in the mountains and his family. You looked where your friends had gone and were slightly away from you but you tried in every way to reach them accelerating the pace but with the white icy cover you had to be careful not to fall. You felt your name shouting slightly and you knew who belonged to that voice even though you had hardly ever spoken to him in person, You wanted to be teleported across the city or invisible to his eyes but when you saw him in front of you you understood why most of the girls they had a crush on him and why they would all want to go out with him.

"Hey, you’re Y/n, right? The girl who works at the university radio station and publishes every week in the blog and profile of the university the ranking with the most beautiful songs of the week, every week i can’t wait to read the chart and i can say that you have great taste in music because we have a lot of songs in the playlist in common" Did you look slightly surprised Jake, how he could be so expansive and not embarrassed to have to talk to a stranger?

"Um, yes i'm Y/n, i’m glad you like the songs that i suggest to make people listen to" You bowed slightly and tried to leave but he was faster than you and put himself in front of your body not to let him escape from it but also the wind blew a little too much and wanted not to see you with all the snow in your face.

"Sorry i threw that ball at you, i didn’t know you were the girl they’d put me in a relationship with or i would have looked for you on the radio" was the dumbest lie he’d come up with in months, Knew who you were too well but didn’t know how to come and talk to you without looking like a loser.

"Anyway in your Christmas wishlist it was written that you wanted to be kissed under the snow, can i kiss you y/n? So we can already tick off your list!"

You looked at yourself with a slightly surprised look Jake, how you should have kissed a stranger, and with what bluntness asked you, you knew that Jake was very famous with the girls but you did not think he had a big ego.

"Thank you for the offer Jake but i don’t kiss a stranger without even knowing him and if i have to be honest i would like to kiss a guy that i like both characteristics and not only physically"

"So you’re telling me that you find me attractive? I would do anything to have you in front of my family during the Christmas holidays."

You immediately raised your eyes when you felt that pet name, god was the essence of the classic alpha sports boy with 0 interests apart from football and himself.

"Jake? That’s your name, right? Maybe those disguised elves have made a mistake to match us, you and I have nothing in common and perhaps it is better to change the request and ask if we give 2 different partners to do this "project". You and me are part of two different worlds and honestly, i would not even trust to spend the Christmas holidays with a stranger, i would come in person to tell you at the training that you have in a few" Jake felt slightly sick at Y/n’s words, he knew it was a strange request but 99% of the girls would say yes to spending 5 days in a luxury hotel in the middle of the mountains with him and his family but not the girl in front of him.

"We can start again if i made a bad impression with my "clown" ways but i try in every way to make people feel comfortable with my jokes or with my slightly playful character, i’m Jake and i know you might have preferred to be in a couple i don’t know with Sunghoon who is much more shy and confident than if but if those two elves put "couple" they will think that maybe we are perfect for this mission"

Or maybe you had paid that evil elf Niki to put you in a pair with the girl with wavy hair covered with light snowflakes, but no one would have found out, right?

You saw Jake bend over the snow and a puppy look looked at you for endless seconds until i took his hands with yours and made him stand from that surreal moment, god you just wanted to know someone to be more sociable and less shy but you would never have expected to make "couple" with Jake.

"I’m not sure, you and i don't know each other at all, and, repeat i do not trust so much even myself so think if i could come on holiday with you and pretend to be together, it would be impossible they would discover Jake immediately."

"Exactly five days to 24 December the day of departure, on your list it says you’d like to make cookies with the elven boy so i could come to your house tomorrow after practice and try to make those sugar loaf cookies and we could get to know each other better,i read that you are shy with guys so with me you may have already checked something off your list, i could make you less tense and shy with guys while we’re almost all the same. What do you say?"

The wheels in your brain were processing all the proposals that Jake was telling you, what could be wrong? You just have to make some cookies together and spend an hour together in your shared apartment with your friends, you certainly wouldn’t be all alone and maybe Jake was right being with him you would defeat your social anxiety by being in contact with a guy.

"Okay, it might not be a bad idea to make cookies with you, and at the same time we could get to know each other, but if i don’t feel comfortable you’ll have to find someone else to spend your holidays with on the mountains."

You felt Jake’s strong arms hold you for a few seconds around his body and a slight hint of vanilla and honey invaded you, you were petrified because you did not love physical contact with people so you gave two small blows on the back of the Australian boy and when he detached from you the smiles.

"Send me the address of your apartment, i’ll leave training for 17 so by that time i should be able to come to you"

Anuists and you saw him running inside the gym, in what trouble had you got?

The whole apartment was lit by a flared light coming from the kitchen and in the background you had put a Christmas playlist, when your friends had discovered that the guy with whom you were paired was Jake had flipped out like fans at a concert. They had also thought about how many days you would kiss and how long you would fall in love with him, but this was not at all on your list of goals and to your bad luck they left you alone because you had to deal with your "anxiety" To be in contact with a boy of the opposite sex. You were encouraged to accept Jake’s offer to spend five days in a luxury hotel with him but before you accepted you had to be sure that he didn’t have any weird feelings, that he wasn’t a serial killer, and that you felt comfortable with him, You had definitely stalked him on social media and asked around about him and everyone gave the same answer.

Jake emanated 100% the vibes of golden retriever boy and by the way he also has one and is a female named Layla, loves football and to your great surprise he had not won any sports scholarship but managed to get into university and the football team thanks to his good grades and brilliant football talent, You thought he didn’t care about studying but never judge a book by the cover because he was seriously a nerd if you talked about math but especially physics, he could speak two languages perfectly and had a lot of friends.

It all seemed too perfect, how did he not have any reservations to the eyes of other people? or maybe you had to know what secrets were hidden under that facade of good boy and if maybe it was seriously all true what people said about him?

You heard the bell ring and when you opened the door a Jake with slightly damp hair and scrunched smiled at you from the door, he was wearing glasses that made him too attractive for your taste and when he took off his jacket he had a sweatshirt that perfectly wrapped his body and a gray pants suit slightly over.

"Hey, i got you some Christmas Edition sugar decorations to put on top of your freshly baked cookies. Cabbage has been snowing for 10 days that keeps snowing i seriously need to go back to Australia in the heat if it still snows and tumi in the pool or at the beach" he winked at you and came into your house as if he had already come a million times.

"Where in Australia are you from? My roommate comes from the Golden Coast and every time she shows us the pictures we fantasize about going there one day".

"I was born in Korea but i lived a lot of years in Brisbane and it’s like my second home, one day i’ll take you there if you want it"

In what way did he want to bring it to Australia? But what problems did this boy have, first he asked you to go to the mountains with him and be his fake girlfriend and then he pretended to go with him to Australia.

"I understand why you’re a heart-stealer Jake, you fool i don’t know how many girls with your impossible promises, maybe this is one of your red flags. You know i asked around about you and everyone told me that you are a golden boy, full of friends, a scholar and who loves sports, nobody has ever spoken badly to me about you, how is this possible?

You saw Jake getting too close for your taste and he trapped you without realizing it in the space near the sink, his dark eyes were studying you and a grin formed on his lips.

"Don’t tell me that the sweet and shy Y/n tried to find out something shady about me only because you can not admit that in this world there may still exist "normal" guys with passions, scholars, full of friends. As long as you try to find out something about me by asking others you will only waste time because i have nothing to hide, i thought you were smarter, if you want to find out something about me the only way is to spend time together!" He winked at you again and started pouring all the ingredients for the cookies into the big bowl, you were slightly irritated by his presence and didn’t understand how they had chosen to pair you with such a guy.

When you put the cookies in the oven a slight sense of embarrassment crept into the room, you leaned on the couch that you had in common and Jake finally put himself at a suitable distance where you could not always feel your heart go fast.

"Excuse me for earlier perhaps i was slightly mean to you and did not want to be at all, In fact, i never behaved like this with anyone just literally took me to the waster with this request to be your fake girlfriend during the Christmas holidays with your family. I would like to be the most honest with you, maybe this is too much for me also because i have 0 experience with guys and see how i behaved with you so think if I ever find myself alone with you and your family pretending to be something."

Jake was surprised by how much you had talked in those 2 minutes of pure embarrassment between you and him, He didn’t think at all that you had ever done anything with any guy because you were really beautiful and he couldn’t do it but these thoughts could make them in another moment now he had to make you understand that you were perfect to be his "fake girl" for those few days and then who knows maybe to be his girlfriend?

Jake approached slightly to Y/n and watched her get farther away from him but the couch was not so long so she stopped and Jake was a few inches away.

"You don’t have to be ashamed of not having any experience with someone, maybe you should just be more yourself with people and let them know what you like or don’t like and I would like to have this chance Y/n"

Jake was the exact opposite of you and you knew that this for him was only "fiction" and he did so only because he wanted at all costs to have someone to take on vacation with him but maybe thanks to him you could defeat that shy part of yourself?

"I don’t know how to explain it but with you, I feel slightly at ease. Maybe it’s because everyone talks about you and you are very talkative with everyone and you try in all ways to make people feel good..." you did not dare to look him in the face because he already had a big ego and with these statements of yours would be even smugger, a small smile made its way through Jake’s lips and he put more comfortable on the sofa.

"Uh, the shy girl who’s afraid to date a guy is seriously telling me that maybe the only one not making her feel uncomfortable?"

gave you a little push on your shoulder and gave you a slight

"Oh my God, i can’t believe you smiled at me, today i have to write in the calendar that Y/n made me a real smile and you laughed at one of my bad jokes."

"Jake seriously stop i gave you a compliment not to expect more this evening and not in the next days"

"In what sense in the next days Y/n? Don’t tell me that my charm has already enchanted you and that you can’t wait to spend time with me in the mountains together like two lovebirds?"

"I haven’t decided yet if i should go with you or not, but i repeat i don’t feel so uncomfortable being with you but being your fake girlfriend. If i should come i should always be next to you and of course, we should kiss, embrace, share the bed, touch each other in front of your family, shake hands when we are together and

Jake had not seriously thought about this point when he wrote that strange request to have a fake girlfriend for his Christmas days in the mountains, but today’s relationships were how physical and he had a serious problem and loved to hug everyone and if he was engaged would not leave even a second his girlfriend alone without putting his hand somewhere and to make everyone understand that it was his and of no other.

Jake took your hands and looked at you smiling "Calm down y/n, all these things you would have done at least once in your life except kiss someone but that won’t be a problem. On your list it says you’d like to be kissed under the snow, right? If you come i’ll kiss you under the snow but first we have to figure out if you’d touch it you wouldn’t mind, i love hugging people and being pampered so now we could do some kind of test, what do you say?"

Why did Jake behave like this? You couldn’t stand it because he looked like the perfect guy that everyone knew, i nodded my head but Jake looked at you asking

"Sweetheart you don’t have to be shy with me, use words and tell me if i can hug you?" When you heard that nickname you looked up and said yes And how yesterday a hint of vanilla and laundry invaded all and felt the big hands of Jake in your hips and some locks did you a light sunny when you felt the head of Jake leaning on your neck "You smell good, Sweetheart" little chills creep in and you clench your arms around her back a bit more "you also know how good Jake but stop calling me Sweetheart is embarrassing!" , after a while Jake broke away from you and to your great surprise you felt that you already missed his weak touch in your body but this feeling lasted little when he made you lie down and lean on a big cushion in the sofa and he put himself next to you, but for your bad luck or luck the sofa was not very big so it was attached to you and you looked at him slightly embarrassed but you trusted him even if you did not know him so much.

"If you come to the mountains with me i should call you by a nickname or my relatives would get suspicious and then know that i love to hug everyone so Sweetheart suits you, Y/n"

Jake looked at you with his face tilted and wanted to tell you the truth but no one would know that he had wanted you as "companion" of this project and it was not those elves or fate to put you with him

"Surely i would have read some romance books and there is the trope Grumpy x Sunshine and we represent it but i know that under that shyness there is a girl who knows how to have fun, full of hobbies and who loves her friends so do not make any problems with me"

Jake came even closer to your face and you looked at his lips but you knew he would not kiss you because if you wanted to have his kiss you had to go to the mountains with him but felt his fleshy lips give you a light kiss in the forehead and like an oven screamed and Jake got up from the couch and signaled you to follow him into the kitchen.

Christmas vacation

December 24th had arrived too early and you were not at all ready to spend almost 5 days with Jake, you had texted him every day and he even accompanied you to buy a ski suit, you found out he could ski and snowboard but you preferred skating but to make him happy you promised that you would go skiing with him. You even bought him a present, In his list it was written that he would love to spend hours building lego and he loved to collect soccer jerseys especially if they were vintage so you gave him a set of legos and a football jersey from Manchester United vintage.

He wrote you that he would pick you up and that it was close to your apartment so you went out and your roommates gave you their blessings and were super happy to see you less shy especially if that guy you were going with on vacation was Jake Sim, a modern SUV stopped in front of you and Jak when he got out of the car always had those glasses that gave him an air of fake nerd, the classic jacket Prada but in the black version and jeans washed that tied his legs.

She bowed to your roommates and when she saw you smiled at you gave you a light kiss on the cheek and signaled you to get in the car.

What have you gotten yourself into? Until 10 days ago you had hardly ever talked to him except for the times he came on the radio to talk about the games and now you found yourself in the car with him going to spend your holidays in a luxury hotel like his supposed girlfriend, But the problem was that you were his fake girlfriend, not his real girlfriend and a little sense of jealousy and anxiety got in your thoughts.

You watched Jake drive carefully, and he was really attractive. With his big venous hands, he turned the car’s baluster very easily, and you could always hear him singing any song you put on the radio. A slight smile crept into your lips, and Jake looked at you curious. "Why are you smiling? Don't tell me that my presence makes you happy because you will have to bear with me for almost five days."

"I laugh because any song i put you are a piece or whistle it as if i knew by heart is not that you stalked me the Spotify account? how does a guy like all a little frat boy of the university know Smooth Operator and the discography of Sade or know some songs of Frank Ocean"

"Sweetheart what i told you when we first met at the football field that i wait every week for your music chart and every time thanks to you, i download new songs, i like the songs that you listen to and suggest because they are all of the different genres" smiles and Jake continued to focus on the snowy road, had passed almost two hours and the destination was getting closer and closer, You pulled your hands into the sleeves of your sweater so that Jake wouldn’t see that you were agitated and wanted to bite your nails but like a hawk, Jake watched every move you made and knew you were slightly agitating when you no longer sang with him.

"Hey everything will be fine, you just be yourself as you were for these days when we went out, for it will already be a shock to see me with a girl that will leave us a lot of time together and i promise you that i will never leave you alone with my aunt chatterbox" When you got out of the car in front of you there was a huge hotel in wooden style decorated with lots of lights and the air of the mountain and the fireplaces made you forget what situation you had gotten into, you heard a dog bark and Jake ran immediately to hug his little dog, Layla.

You watched his family come against Jake and when their eyes moved from the tender scene of Jake with his dog to you, a redheaded girl gave out a slight cry and Jake’s mom gave you a big smile

"Oh my god after 22 years maybe our Jackie has put his head on and brought us his girlfriend" the girl with red hair who was her cousin approached you and embraced you warmly.

Why did everyone in this family love hugs so much?

<<Why didn’t you tell us that you were bringing your girlfriend? we would have arranged differently and proposed to do things of girls like going to the Spa or relax in the pool>> Jake’s mother looked at you attentively and Jake put an arm around your side and carried you warmly near itself.

"I didn’t tell you because i wanted to surprise you and then these things i would do with Y/n, in Seoul we haven’t yet had the chance to spend a lot of time together with lessons, radio club and my football training"

the two women embraced you and let you into the hotel to meet the whole family were all nice, cute, warm and funny with you and you absolutely wanted to pretend and tell lies all the time but was this the purpose of this trip right? Show the loving side of Jake with a girl and pretend he was not a womanizer in the eyes of his family and then back to Seoul you would come back as strangers like before...

When you entered the room with Jake a slight whistle came out of your lips when you saw the landscape of the snowy mountains in front of you and in the ridges there was a light pink sky, you felt your heart beat madly from how beautiful that moment was. Before i went in i didn’t really notice the room to see the scenery but you and Jake were both looking at each other when you saw that there was only a double bed and an exposed bathroom, but Jake showed you that the glass would go dark so you could have your privacy. The dinner with his relatives passed quickly and went all smooth, at 23:55 you were all outside the hotel with candles in hand to wait for the crack of midnight and to wish you all together, Your family was on the other side of the world so you could wish them well after 8 hours because of jet-lag, Jake’s warm hands were making little circles inside his pocket and smiled when he saw you laughing with his cousin, would not have asked for better in that letter for the university’s Christmas project.

At midnight everyone started singing Christmas carols and wishing each other a happy birthday under the snow and gave that even more romantic touch to the sound of the bells coming from the church on top of the mountain.

"Come I’ll show you a thing y/n" You followed Jake and in front of you there was a tree drawn on the snow made of wood and full of Christmas lights, you watched Jake smile at you and pulled out his tongue to eat some snowflakes, He nodded and laughed at how icy the snow was in the palate of his tongue. You tried it and laughed because of the funny face you made for the cold contact "I never thought to celebrate a Christmas in the mountains in Korea especially with you Jake" saw that he approached you and felt the hand slightly warm in contact with your face and little brvidi invades you, your mind thought they were perceived by the cold but your heart knew that those chills had been perceived by the touch of Jake, you looked at your lips a few centimerti from your mouth and thought that finally he would kiss you but he pushed you slightly and you fell embraced over the snow cover and Jake started to laugh because it was above you and if someone saw you so he would immediately Thought wrong but also because you had a questioning and red look from embarrassment, At this point Jake knew you wanted his lips in contact with hers so he smashed his slightly cracked lips into yours and started a slow kiss dance,he caressed your cheek and you without thinking took the hood from its thick hair and pulled him close to you and when you opened her lips let in his tongue and a light moan came out of your lips, had seriously fulfilled your desire number 1 in the list but you did not know that that kiss had triggered in you numerous butterflies in the stomach and your heart beat very strong when finished the kiss gave you a light kiss in the forehead and lay down near you and began Laughing like children when you saw your snow angels of your shapes to how strange but both you and Jake photographed those angels. Who knows maybe thanks to a letter written with a thousand anxiety two people so different but so close in time would fall in love

❄️ I hope you like it❄️

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