Last Christmas [18+ Fic]
Pairing: Brother’s Bestie!Geto x F!Reader (Friends to Lovers)
Synopsis: You’re sooo not looking forward to the winter trip you’re taking with your brother and your mutual friends this year for Christmas. Not when you’re in the midst of the aftermath of a messy breakup that broke your heart into a million tiny shards, and at this rate, you don’t think you can pick up the pieces.
But lucky for you, maybe someone can. Insert Geto Suguru: sexy, handsome, talented, and forbidden because he’s your brother’s best friend. You’ve known him for years, watching him grow from the hot high school starlet to the sexy college grad AND musician. You could never tell him your feelings in fear of ruining your relationship with him and your brother. But as the trip goes on and your post-break up blues get stronger, how will you be able to keep these strong emotions bottled up so tightly?
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); Football Player!Geto x Writer!Reader; Slow Burn; Friends to Lovers Trope; Secret Crush; Unrequited Romance; Forbidden Romance; He Falls First; Some Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Past Breakup/Heartbreak; Mistletoe Kissing; Pussy Rubbing; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Couch Sex; Sex In Front of Fireplace; Doggystyle; Riding; Daddy Kink; Spitting; Deepthroat; Reader Cums 2x; Thighfuck; Raw Creampie; Mutual O; Aftercare
Word Count: 4.1k
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
CHAPTERS: ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR. FIVE. SIX. SEVEN.
Writer's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE!!! This is my little gift to y'all lol. I originally wanted this to be a one shot, but I haven't written a short story for the holidays in a hot minute. Plus I love me some friends to lovers/forbidden romance. That's MY SHIT!! I hope y'all enjoy this one!! Have a wonderful holiday!!! <3 -Jazz
Credits: Divider made by @strangergraphics
ONE
“Y/N? Sweetheart, wake up. We’re here.”
You sleepily hum, stirring in the backseat of the Range Rover that your brother rented. He purchased it specifically for its heated steering wheel, fog lights, and tires that shifted automatically once you hit the snow. “It’s perfect for our winter getaway!” he exclaimed, grinning at the silver designer car.
You’ve been asleep in the back of the rental for over two hours since the drive up from the city. You and your brother packed your luggage up the night before to get a head start. This morning, at the ass crack of dawn, you piled into the rental and picked your friends up from the train station that were all attend this weekend trip for the holidays. It was their tradition and this time around, you were asked to join.
Probably because you’re nursing a wicked broken heart right before Christmas.
You sleepily moan, lifting your head up out of someone’s very warm, comfortable, muscular lap. When you look up, you’re horrified to see that it’s your brother’s very hot best friend. The very man who invited you on this trip because your brother told him all your business. His violet eyes smile at you the same way his lips do. So soft, supple, and adorned with a lip ring dangling from his bottom lip.
“S-Sorry,” you stammer, immediately scrambling off him. You have no idea how you fell asleep on him of all people since Shoko, your girlfriend and Geto’s PR agent, is sitting right beside you, sandwiching you between herself and Geto in the backseat.
“S’cool, don’t worry,” Geto chuckles, easy-going and laidback as usual. “Welcome to the land of the living.” He gives you a joking smile that makes your face grow hot and you feel like you’re baking under your Burberry coat and sweater now. Damn him and those eyes. That smile. That stupidly handsome face and attractive personality.
Your brother laughs from the driver’s seat, hands flexing on the wheel. “Yeah, we thought you were dead for a minute there, sis,” he says, looking at you in the rearview mirror. “What’s up? You pregnant or somethin’?”
“Man, shut up,” you groan, kicking his seat with your Ugg boot.
“Hey, whoa, whoa!” Gojo, your other mutual friend and Geto’s teammate, exclaims from the passenger’s seat, chomping away on a bag of chips. “Ain’t this a rental? You tryin’ to make your brother pay extra for damages?”
“We all chipped in for the car, dickhead,” Shoko huffs next to you, frantically chewing on her gum to avoid pulling out a cigarette. “And you’re the one to talk. Weren’t you the one who almost scratched up the paint job ‘cause you kept puttin’ your suitcase in wrong?”
Gojo, looking like he’s about to rob the North Pole in his white beanie, turns to glare at Shoko while you, your brother, and Geto laugh. “At least I helped,” he growls. “All you did was hop in the backseat while I dealt with your stupid Hello Kitty luggage.”
“To figure out why the heater wasn’t working!” Shoko argues. “I know my way around car mechanics, Gojo. You don’t.”
Before Gojo can shoot something back, Geto gives a small whistle, making the two stop their arguing. “Alright, kids, settle down,” he says in his silky, smooth voice. “Let’s wait till we get to the cabin; then you two can kill each other.” Gojo, this crazy motherfucker, actually cheers while Shoko gives him the finger, her nail sharp and painted black. She got them done specifically for this trip.
You got yours done too: almond shaped and a pale pink color to match the pretty pink sweater you bought along with you. You can’t even think about wearing that or any of your cute winter outfits to go skiing, sleighing, clubbing, or shopping in the cute wintery town ten minutes away from your Air BNB. Your brother specifically picked this town because of its hot spots for tourists: bars, clubs, boutiques, shops, restaurants, and all the sightseeing your little heart and IG stories could ask for.
But while he excitedly whoops in the driver’s seat, you just slump in the backseat, trying to muster up some fake happiness to keep everyone’s concerns at bay. “A Christmas trip full of good friends, skiing, hot girls, and no kids,” your brother happily sighs. “This is definitely what Christmas is all about. Is everybody excited?!”
Everyone cheers and howls in the car as your brother cranks up the radio playing nothing but Christmas music. You manage to giggle when he looks back at you and dances to Jackson 5’s “Frosty the Snowman”. “I can’t hear you!” he bellows, right at you. “Is everybody—”
THWACK!
You yelp at the sudden noise outside of Geto’s window, instinctively clutching his arm. “Jesus!” you gasp. Your brother’s bestie immediately hugs you to him, staring wide-eyed at the window and then at your brother. “What the hell was that?” he demands. “Did you hit something?”
Your brother tsks, driving even slower than he was before. “Nah, it was just a branch.” He comes to a stop and rolls down his window, leaning out to check Geto’s side of the car. “Phew, I thought it scratched the window up. Damn long ass branches.” He glares up at the leafless, spindly trees framing the road leading up to the gate, each branch coated in snow.
You are still frazzled when Geto turns to check up on you, his eyes soft and concerned.
“You good?” he murmurs. He’s so close that you can smell the mint gum on his breath and the cologne staining his waist coat. Even through the wool fabric of his sleeve, you can feel his hard bicep, big and toned from years of training for football. “Y-Yeah, m’fine,” you mutter, instantly releasing him and feeling like a slut. You feel your face grow hot and try to laugh to ease the tension. “Even at my big age, loud noises still scare me. Lame, right?”
But he shakes his head, being sweet and supportive as he usually is. The way your ex-boyfriend used to be. “Nah, it was scary. I was so sure he hit a deer or a mountain lion or—”
“A mountain lion?” you parrot, gaping at him. “Those are up here?” He nods, looking dead serious. “Yetis too,” he replies, a teasing little smirk playing at his lips. Even though he has gotten older and his features have changed,-longer hair, more piercings, tattoos inking his neck-he still has that boyish smile that you’ve always found so endearing. And attractive.
“Jerk,” you scoff, your lips stretching into a smile. “Always teasing me.” He shrugs, tossing an arm back over the seats so it drapes behind your head. “Always will. Shit, I’m practically your big brother.”
You’ve known Geto for a long time, ever since your high school days. He was in the same classes as your brother and they became fast friends overnight. Geto was just as popular as your brother with his tallness, silky, black hair, handsome face, quiet yet attractive attitude and personality, and, of course, the fact that he was the school’s star football player. He went on to become a huge athlete, playing for your city’s football team, but he still makes time for your brother and cleared his schedule for this trip.
You will admit that you had a big crush on him then as most girls did, but as time went on, you dated other people and so did he. Plus, you never had a chance with him. You were always the nerdy girl with glasses and braces compared to the other girls in your school who wore lipgloss, carried purses to school, and walked around in mini skirts.
You never had the guts to do any of that and never had much confidence. But still, Geto was always kind to you, protecting you from bullies and sitting with you at lunch if he ever saw you in between choir practice and running track.
And then, years later, you met the love of your life…or ex-love of your life now. Ex-boyfriend, ex-partner, ex-everything. Even your ex-to-be-fiancé. You met him on Tinder funny enough and what was supposed to be a simple hookup turned into a full on date when he invited you out for drinks. After four years of dating, he decided to break it off with you last year on Christmas Eve with a phone call because he was too pussy to tell you to your face.
What was once a time of joy and excitement over hot chocolate, gifts, decorating, and movie marathons turned into a time of hopelessness, sadness, and regret. The breakup itself hurt you, but what tore you up is what he said. Those painful words still ring in your head, making you numb as your brother rolls up the hill where the little gated community of Air BNB cabins are.
The trees are bare, except for a few pine trees sprinkled here and there, and the ground is coated in fluffy, white snow. Perfect for sleighing, skiing, and taking snowy walks in the morning. You hope that your depression doesn’t kick your ass hard enough to not do anything on this trip. You promised yourself that you’d try to have fun and push away the horrible memory of your breakup.
That was last Christmas. This Christmas, things will be different. You have to believe they will. Surrounded by good friends and family, you have to believe that things will be better.
Your brother parks in the driveway near the side garage attached to your rented cabin. The neighbors are about five feet away, so there is an equal balance of privacy and community. You stare up at the beautiful log cabin when you exit the car, admiring its decor. “Daaaamn, would you look at this place?” your brother gasps. “It’s got a hot tub too! We’re gonna have a ball in here!”
“I get first dibs on the bedrooms!” Gojo shouts, heading for the door. Geto jumps out of the car and whistles, stopping his friend. “Ah-ah, hang on,” he calls. “Not without your luggage.” He pops open the trunk and grunts when he grabs Gojo’s blue suitcase with his own face plastered on the front. Dumbass. "What’d you pack, Satoru? Your entire bedroom?” he scoffs.
Gojo glares at him as he comes skipping down the steps and grabs his suitcase, taking Shoko’s too. “Nothin’ you need to know about. Just know I’m gonna be sleepin’ good tonight with my electric blanket.” He gives Geto a grin before walking off with his and Shoko’s suitcases, whistling a Christmas song as he does.
You come around the back to the open trunk with your tote bag, shivering from the frigid cold. Even in your puffy coat, you can feel it penetrating your bones. After you slap on your beanie, you wait till Geto grabs his suitcase to get yours, grunting as you drag it out of the trunk. Geto watches, smirking slightly. “You need help with that, little miss?” he asks, putting on a horrible country accent.
You roll your eyes, crookedly smiling at him. “Suguru, I’m fine. I’m not gonna break.” But he helps you anyway, gritting his teeth as he helps you lower it to the ground. “Jesus, and I thought Satoru was bad at packing. What’s in here?” You kick at his ankle, earning a mock-offended look from him. “Nothin’ you need to know,” you shoot back. “You don’t ask a girl what she packs in her suitcase.”
“Not unless you wanna find her vibrator in there,” Shoko adds as she jumps out the car. “Or maybe that’s just me.” Your brother stares at her wide-eyed and pretends to throw up. “Ew! Now you gotta sleep in the shack, you nasty!” She gives him the finger, hoisting her Alo bag over her shoulder as she walks into the house.
You go to take your suitcase, but Geto wheels it away from you. “I’ve got it,” he gently but firmly says. “You focus on the rest of your stuff and the gifts. Leave the suitcases to me.” You feel your body grow hot in your coat as if you’re baking, unsure of why this little act is getting you so worked up. “Thank you,” you murmur, suddenly unable to breathe.
You don’t know when exactly you started feeling so odd around Geto; you just know one day, he thought he was hot.
Maybe it was one day while watching him on TV at a game and how good he looked in his uniform.
Maybe it was when he came over one day and purposely lost to Mario Kart for you.
Maybe it was the way he cuddled with your cat, gently rubbing her butt when she so rudely asked for it by putting it in his face.
Whatever it was, it definitely made you look at him different and keep your distance. At the time when it started—maybe two years ago—, you were still seeing your ex but also having relationship problems. You thought he was embarrassed by your job as a writer and he felt like you resented him for his position as an attorney. Not to mention that it had been two years of dating and he hadn’t introduced you to his parents.
That should’ve been a red flag, but it wasn’t at the time. You were wearing rose-colored glasses.
Suddenly, the thoughts are silenced when the car beeps, locking. Your brother pockets the keys to his Range Rover and shoves his hands into his leather jacket, smiling at you. “Soooo,” your bro pushes. “What’dya think, sis? I did good, right?” You smile, wrapping an arm around his shoulders the same way he does you. “You did perfect, bro. It’s beautiful.”
You put on a smile for him, trying to act excited about the hot tub on the side deck, the game room, the home theatre, the gorgeous kitchen and stocked fridge, the five bedrooms, and the grand fireplace in the living room where you can curl up and rest. But all you feel is a numbness that stops you from feeling any amount of joy or anticipation for this trip.
“So whatcha got planned, huh?” your brother asks, your footsteps crunching together in the snow as you walk towards the cabin. “I know Shoko said you and her wanted to go shopping at some point before we head home on Monday. You mentioned the sauna too, right? And there’s a club that we should—”
“Bro,” you interrupt, laughing and gripping his shoulders as you turn to face him. “It’s okay! You don’t have to ask me what I’m doing and make plans to keep me busy. I’m not gonna slit my wrists.”
He frowns, sighing to himself, looking downtrodden. “I know,” he huffs. “It’s just…I want this to be a good trip for you. And it will be! Don’t you worry, sissy!”
You roll your eyes, cringing at the nickname he’s given you since you were in middle school. “You know I hate that name,” you groan. He gives you a big ass, shit-eating grin, squeezing you into a sweaty hug. “I know. That’s why I say it.” “But seriously, after this trip, you’ll feel much better. All you need is some good dick to take your mind off that asshole.”
“Ew, bro!” you scoff, shoving him off of you as he laughs. “You’re not supposed to talk about your little sister getting dicked down. Shouldn’t you be against that?”
He tsks, craning his neck at you. “Listen, if it’ll turn that frown upside down, I’ll go find the dick for you. Just don’t do it with anyone you know ‘cause that turns messy.” You snort at this because of course, he’d know all about that. Your brother never was a committed guy, but he always wanted that for you.
“You’re disgusting,” you giggle as you two finally get inside the warm cabin with its rustic decor and beautifully-decorated Christmas tree in the corner of the room. “Just get a fire going for me. I’m gonna go unpack.” You trudge to the back bedroom where Geto is already inside, placing your suitcase on your bed. “Shoko chose this one for you,” he explains. “She’s in the bathroom.”
He nods at the bathroom located on the other side of the room where your walk-in closet is. The room comes with two twin-sized beds, a flat screen, and a sliding door that leads right outside to the snow. You talked to Shoko beforehand about taking this room to bunk in with each other while the guys will be upstairs, leaving one extra bedroom empty.
“Thanks, Suguru, I really appreciate it.” You manage to give him a real smile as you place your tote bag down on your chosen bed. He nods, still dressed in his waist coat. “Sure thing, sweetie.”
You ignore the way your body tingles at the mention of yet another sweet name uttered from his lips. He’s always called you little pet names like that. You’ve always either found them cute or annoying since he’s older than you by five years. Your brother never had an issue with it since it always came off brotherly, but now…now you’re not so sure. You’re not so sure of anything anymore.
‘It’s just because you’re dick deprived,’ you think, reasoning with your body. ‘It’s just because you’re touch starved and have a lack of romance. Nothing more.’ But you know you can definitely sort that out once you get out to the clubs and the bars on this trip…if you had any energy to do so, that is.
You begin to unpack your tote bag, taking out your phone, charger, laptop, cosmetic bag, and travel-sized bath products. Geto stands behind you, but not comfortably so. If anything, he is a nice, comforting presence as he’s always been for you. “So I was gonna do some cookin’ after I unpack,” he announces. “You got your clothes for tonight? Gojo chose a steak restaurant for dinner, the flashy bastard, then we’re hittin’ the club.”
You turn to give him a reassuring smile that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. “Oh, I’m not hungry, so don’t worry about me. As for tonight, I’ll have to see. M’just so tired, y’know?”
You won’t tell anyone this, but you had no plans of going much of anywhere on this trip. Even though you packed for activities just in case, you physically, mentally, and emotionally have no energy to anything close to social like going to the bar or clubbing. You can’t even see yourself dressing up. It’s scary because it’s sooo unlike you, but as soon as you walked in and saw that bed, all you wanted to do was sleep.
If Geto is shocked or disappointed by this, he doesn’t show it. “Yeah, sure, no problem. You need any help unpacking?” He goes to unzip your suitcase, but you shoo his hands away, tutting. “What’s with you today?” you ask, raising a brow at him. “You’re being so attentive and helpful, more than usual. It’s freaking me out!” You don’t mean for it to come off so harshly, and it registers across Geto’s handsome face in surprise. “Just tryin’ to help you out. It’s been a long month for you, I’m sure.”
Instantly, you feel guilty. Damn your ex for making you like this. You place a gentle hand on Geto’s shoulder and you feel him tense for a moment before he relaxes. “Sorry, Sugu. I really appreciate the help, but—”
Your words are cut off when your tote bag suddenly falls over, spilling its contents all over the bed. “Shit,” you sigh, taking Geto’s help when he begins picking up your loose change, gum, and a tube of Fenty Gloss from the bedspread.
But there is something else in the pile of familiar items that isn’t familiar at all: a red heart-shaped Christmas hard with the front emblazoned with a gold ribbon. You scowl, confused, and pick the card up. Geto stares at you curiously, his pierced brow raised. “What is it?” he asks. “Is that one of your Christmas cards?” You slowly shake your head. “No,” you reply, still staring at the heart-shaped card in confusion. “I didn’t do cards this year.”
You figured that all you’d do this Christmas are gifts and little handheld notes since card prices have skyrocketed. You absolutely wouldn’t have misplaced a card either. You open the card and read it, noticing how perfect the cursive is.
Giving you my heart this year for Christmas. Will you take it?
Love, A Friend
Your heart begins to pound and instantly, you sweat as if this card is a bomb about to go off. Who would write something like this to you? “Shoko, did you give me a card?” you call to her in the bathroom. The door opens and she comes out dressed in sweats and a hoodie. “A card? You know I don’t do those, girl. They’re too expensive.”
Abruptly, you turn to Geto, unable to hide your suspicions. “Is this you, Suguru?” you demand. “Or Gojo?” Speaking of the devil, the white-haired hottie comes walking down the hall to your room, chomping on a candy cane left in the kitchen. “Is what me?” he asks, coming into the bedroom. “What’d I miss?”
“Y/N’s got a secret admirer,” Shoko replies, smirking down at the card in your hand. “A cheesy one at that.” Geto is still looking at you, looking rather offended that you’re coming off so strong. “I didn’t do this. I gave everybody their cards at the train station, remember?” And he did, and none of them looked like this one. Not to mention that he left his gift bags in the trunk.
There’s only one person left who could’ve possibly snuck this in your bag without you knowing. “What’s everybody in here for?” your brother asks, walking into the room. He pauses, squinting at the card. “Da hell is that?”
You briskly turn to him, holding the card between your middle and forefingers. “It’s a card that was in my suitcase. Did you write this to me?” He shakes his head, looking completely clueless.
“No, I didn’t even give you my gift yet.” Which is also correct because your gift delivery was delayed until after Christmas.
You toss the card aside, fed up with the mystery game. How did it even get in your bag? Did someone put it there while you were sleeping in the car ride? “Okay, somebody’s messing with me,” you scoff, raising your voice as your irritation simmers. “And whoever it is, it’s not funny. This is real fucked to do after—”
“Alright, sweetie, calm down,” Shoko gently says, gently taking you by the shoulder. “Let’s not blow up only fifteen minutes into the trip. Guys, let the girls talk please.”
Your brother and Gojo immediately rush out in case you’re about to explode, but Geto lingers, giving you a concerned look. “Hey,” he says. “You gonna be okay?” Shoko steps in, glaring at him. “She’ll be fine, now get out. Let me talk to her.”
You slump onto the bed, feeling regretful that you let your anger and your past hurt from your ex get to you like that. “I’m sorry I exploded like that.”
Shoko rolls her eyes, plopping down beside you. “Please. This is the anniversary of your messy breakup, Y/N! It’s normal, but you’ve gotta let yourself have some fun!” She wraps an arm around you, hugging you into her side. “Come out with us tonight, get some drinks, meet some guys, shake ass, and let yourself get over that dumb-fuck. You deserve better than him.”
She practically spits the word “him”, not even uttering his name. Probably in fear of you combusting into a million pieces. You take a deep breath and nod, realizing that she is absolutely right. “I know,” you sigh. “You’re right.”
Life is too short to be sad and so are the holidays. You’re here for a reason, so you need to enjoy it! Shoko smiles, patting you on the thigh. “I know I am. Now, put that weird-ass card away and help me unpack my outfit for tonight.”
You smile and give her a big kiss on the cheek before shoving the card at the bottom of your tote bag. Then you store the bag away under your bed with your empty suitcase, never to be seen until Monday morning when you leave.
But even when it’s out of your sight, it’s not out of your mind and you struggle to ignore the strange wriggle in your gut when you think about it.
