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lincolndjarin · 4 months

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Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging.

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim.

“My entire Christmas bonus.”

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh.

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this.

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work.

“Please, Steve.”

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours.

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process.

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away.

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today.

Javier P.

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office.

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with.

Every single woman, except you.

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner.

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo.

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed.

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk.

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her.

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs.

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails.

Red chipped paint.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway.

Probably.

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you?

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless.

Stupid fucking Peña.

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though.

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap.

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday.

Jesus.

You know way too much about him.

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails.

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette.

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night.

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower.

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt.

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes.

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected.

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses.

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours.

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt.

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach.

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation.

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie.

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier.

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up.

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift.

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things.

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away.

Javier traded for your name?

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting.

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again.

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident.

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend.

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people.

Javier’s office.

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand.

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him.

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult.

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab.

What a foolish question.

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home.

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall.

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow.

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out.

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends.

“So this is about the secret Santa.”

Of course he wouldn’t get it.

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him.

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first.

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms.

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide.

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye.

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night.

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.”

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go.

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you.

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole.

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth.

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts.

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt.

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment.

Jesus you’re soaked.

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him.

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here.

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock.

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission.

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you.

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor.

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk.

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time.

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning.

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk.

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while.

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin.

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss.

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait.

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier.

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting.

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

#pedrostoriesgift23 #lincolndjarin #taro-666 <3 #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

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steveslevis · 18 days

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‘tis the damn season

AUTUMN

chapter contents/warnings: exes to whatever the hell this is, a little bit of smut, angst, weed and alcohol use, mutual pining, steve is an idiot and is afraid of commitment </3, barely proofread (sowwy)

w/c: 5.3k

The first big frost of the season blankets the town of Hawkins when you arrive on Wednesday night, the bits of ice glittering on the orange and brown leaves making the barren streets seem less intimidating as you make your way through your hometown for the first time in months.

There’s a sense of anticipation and dread that fills your stomach while navigating the streets you know so well, knowing you’re going to be asked the same mundane questions about college in the big city a thousand times over during the next three weeks. You know that’s not the only thing filling you with dread for the weeks to come, but keep telling yourself that’s all you have to worry about — right?

The first evening you arrive in town is jam-packed, since your friends insisted on having a so-called “Friends-giving-mas” as the night that you arrived, due to your anticipated absence on the aforementioned Christmas. You spend a few hours with your mom and dad before leaving, enlisting your mom to help you make some cookies for the party, promising you’d leave her and your dad some behind.

The clock hits 7 p.m. and you’re finally finished getting ready, having just thrown on a red velvet, long sleeved dress that hit just above your knees and your best black boots, Robin had requested everyone to look their best so she could take photos with her new camera throughout the party. You grabbed your secret santa gift and jacket, checking yourself in the mirror one last time before leaving your room.

“Alright, I’m leaving.” you call out as you bound down the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Don’t forget your cookies, sweetheart! They’re on the table.” she replied from her place next to your dad on the couch, watching some rom-com while he was dozing beside her, “if you need us to come pick you up, we will.”

You let out a laugh at her remark, knowing that you were only walking to the next house over on the road, so picking you up would be ridiculous.

“Oh, I think I’ll manage just fine.” you joke in return while grabbing the plate of cookies, “love you guys!”

—————————

The outside of the Harrington’s house is gleefully lit with warm string lights, wreaths already adorning the front windows and main door to the house in anticipation of Christmas in a few weeks. You always admired the way their house looked during the holidays, but knew it was only a cheery facade to hide the dysfunction that lay within the halls of the residence.

You knew the family all too well, having grown up next to Steve your entire life. You were the same age as him, grew up attending all the same parties as him, but ran in completely different circles than him — well, up until your senior year of high school at least.

Long story short, being best friends with Robin led to you ultimately becoming so-called friends with Steve Harrington as well. The two of you had what you now called a stupid summer fling before you left for Chicago in August, but the rest was history. The two of you had agreed to stay civil and not let the remnants of any unresolved feelings come between your friendship and the rest of the friend group.

So here you were, knocking on Steve Harrington’s front door on a random Wednesday in late November, cookies in hand as you stood there, shivering. You faintly hear Robin say that she would get the door, then hear footsteps pad towards the entrance.

You’re greeted by your best friend with the strongest hug you swear you’ve ever experienced, and you feel like you might not ever be let go if she has anything to say about it.

“Oh my god! I missed you so much.” Robin exclaims, the widest grin on her face as she grabs for your hand, “everyone’s in here, we’re just waiting on Nance and Jonathan then we’ll be ready to eat but come in! I have so much to tell you about everything you don’t even know—”

You follow behind her wordlessly, smiling to yourself as she rambles on about college applications and band and Vickie — who just so happened to be in the kitchen helping finish making the mashed potatoes so you had to be quiet — and everything that she can think to fit in a conversation to catch her best friend up on after months without. She leads you to the dining room after dropping off the cookies, where you hear two familiar voices having a very passionate conversation.

“I’m telling you, man, I’m cursed—“

“You’re not cursed, Harrington. I’m telling you, you’re just looking in the wrong place for love.” Eddie retorts to his frustrated friend, rolling his eyes at him.

“Oh yeah? And where should I be looking?” Steve snorts, haphazardly tossing forks, knives and spoons atop the napkin at each seat of the table.

“I’ve been saying ever since what happened this summer, you should be going after — oh shit, Y/N!” Eddie interjects, cutting himself off when you trail in behind Robin.

The metalhead pulls you in for a bear hug, whispering in your ear about how he promises not to ask you boring questions about college like everyone else. As you’re being engulfed in his embrace, you hear the sound of silverware tumbling to the ground from the other side of the table, followed by a string of mumbled curse words from the dropper.

You pull away from Eddie’s hug to look at where the noise is coming from, only to see Steve fumbling with a fork and spoon while trying to stand up from where he was just kneeling. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment too long, taking in everything about him that you told yourself you didn’t miss. Eddie gives you a knowing look and you roll your eyes, knowing that he’s trying to tell you to not make things weird, so you try your best.

“Stevie, how are you?” you call to him while walking around the table, putting on the best oblivious and excited face that you can.

“H-Hey, Y/N.” Steve says, feigning coolness as he pulls you in for a quick hug, nearly stumbling over his words when you use the nickname you always loved to tease him with, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

His eyes flicker over to Robin momentarily, who shoots him a guilty grin before mouthing ‘sorry’ over your shoulder.

“Yeah, it was kinda last minute on my part, I just so happened to be coming home tonight since my finals were all at the beginning of the week. I kinda forced Rob to tell me when it would be so I could crash it,” you lie, trying to throw the blame on yourself instead of her, “sorry if I messed anything up, I-I’ll lay low and won’t eat if that messes up numbers or something—“

“No!” Steve rushes to retort, shaking his head at you adamantly, “I mean, shit—sorry. No, you’re not messing anything up at all, you know you’re always welcome here.”

The smile on Steve’s face is genuine as he speaks, but there’s a glint of sadness in his eyes while he scans yours for any sign of hesitancy. You give him a small smile in return, quickly moving your gaze from his to push down that sinking feeling in your chest you know is coming. Your chest aches as you focus your eyes downward, realizing that this night would be a lot harder than you had convinced yourself that it would be.

“Well!” Robin interjects, interrupting the growing awkward silence filling the air of the dining room where you stood. She reached for your hand while smiling over at you sympathetically, beginning to drag you towards the kitchen as she spoke, “gotta go say hello to everyone else before dinner!”

Your best friend whirled you around to the rest of the guests–which was just Nancy, Jonathan, and Vickie–who were all in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the meal.

A slew of awkward questions about Chicago ensued in the moments leading up to and during dinner, but you took them in stride as they distracted you from the bright eyed boy across the table who kept sneaking glances in your direction any chance he got. You explained your major, what you did for work outside of class time, and talked about all the new friends you met in the short few months you’d been gone. You could’ve sworn Steve’s jaw clenched at the mention of a date you went on prior to leaving for break, but you didn’t put too much thought into it.

Dinner goes by fairly quickly, and then it’s time for Secret Santa gifts in the living room. Robin begged everyone to participate, and even went through the effort of making sure you and Steve didn’t get each other, partly to not ruin the surprise of you being here and partly to diminish any awkwardness that might arise from it.

You had drawn Jonathan’s name, so you gifted him a few rolls of different camera film. Each person had to guess who their Secret Santa was, but apparently your gift was pretty obvious since he hadn’t been able to find any film like it anywhere near Hawkins, so he guessed you first.

Your turn rolled around and a small red gift bag was sat in your lap. You immediately knew who your gift was from, halfway from the grin plastered on his face and halfway from the smell lingering from inside the back in your hands.

“Thank you, Eddie.” you giggle out while pulling out four perfectly rolled blunts from the gift bag, courtesy of the best dealer in Hawkins.

“It’s always a pleasure,” he jabs back, “we can fire one up after presents if you’d like.”

You nod quickly at him, grinning widely before turning back to the circle where Robin was handing out gifts.

—————————

It’s not long before drinks are flowing and laughter is spilling through the Harrington residence, something that’s happened very few times within those halls. The night seems to go by too quickly, you notice how quickly when you check and it says 11 P.M. already, even though it feels like you’ve only been there a few hours. You’re sitting on the couch with Robin and Vickie, giggling their way through a story about some guy in the Hawkins band, when the sight of the back door sliding open and closed catches your eye.

You turn your gaze to see Steve stalking into the cold on his own, head turned down as he walks towards one of the ice-slicked pool chairs on the deck. A frown passes over your face as you furrow your brows, excusing yourself from the couple on the couch as you slip outside to follow him with your bottle of wine, one of your newly gifted blunts and a lighter in hand.

It’s the last thing you should be doing tonight, really. You shouldn’t be following Steve Harrington – the man who was too afraid to say he loved you and too afraid to commit to you – onto the porch. You should’ve stayed inside and drank some more wine with the rest of them and let yourself cut loose for once, but you just couldn’t do it. You just had to talk to him – you weren’t so sure what you wanted to talk about, but you just felt the need to.

“You alright?” was all you could slip out as you closed the sliding glass door, watching the brown haired boy from afar, making sure you weren’t making the wrong decision.

“Yeah–Yeah, just needed a little bit of fresh air.” Steve stammered, eyes widening for only a moment when he notices that it’s you that followed him outside.

You only hum in response, stepping closer to him as you sense no annoyance or anger in his voice, finding a spot on the chilled pool chair next to his. After setting down the bottle of wine you’d been nursing throughout the night, you took the blunt you’d brought as a peace offering between your fingers and waved it in front of his face.

Steve looked up for a moment, gaze shifting between the blunt between your fingers and your lips that curled up into a mischievous yet friendly smirk. His own lips perked up in a lopsided smile, raising an eyebrow at you when you brought the blunt to your lips, followed by the lighter.

“Would you like to partake?” you joke while puffing smoke through your lips, mixing with the cold puffs of breath coming from Steve’s.

“I’ll never say no to that,” he retorts, reaching to grab the blunt from your fingers.

There’s a breath of comfortable silence between the two of you as he inhales, then lets out a long exhale before focusing his gaze back onto the pool in front of him, onto the ice forming on the pool cover as a way to avoid your eyes.

“So, how’s the Stevie Harrington been faring since I’ve been gone?” you joked after a moment more of the quiet, shoving any nerves down that were threatening to force you to run back inside.

Awful, utterly dull and extremely depressing, was what Steve wanted to say.

He wanted to tell you how he fucked up so badly, how he hasn’t been the same since the last time he saw you, how he hasn’t even been able to look at anyone without thinking of you. He wanted to grab you by the cheeks and pull you in for a kiss and never let go. He wanted to scream and tell you how much he regretted ever letting you leave without knowing how he really felt, but he couldn’t now. It was too late, so he just said; “Oh, y’know. I’ve been fine. Just the same shit, different day.”

Steve wanted to kick himself for saying something so lame, something so uninteresting when the most interesting person in the world was sitting right in front of him.

“Does ‘same shit, different day’ just mean you’re stuck being the same old chauffeur-babysitter you’ve been for the last two years?” you tease, reaching down to grab the bottle of wine at your feet.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Steve chuckled, giving you a warm smile as he took another puff.

It only took a few moments to finally break the ice between the two of you, then things fell right back into place, right back into a comfortable normalcy. There was something that put you so at ease being outside with him, being able to talk to him without the looming thought of who would be the first to say “I love you” or who would be the first to leave waving over both of your heads.

The next hour went by in a breeze, and it seemed the party inside died down by the time the two of you decided to walk back in. Steve closed the sliding glass door behind you two and you noticed only Eddie and Robin were left standing in the living room. Vickie was presumably in the guest bed, where Robin was about to head to. Jonathan and Nancy had left twenty minutes prior, only popping their heads out to say a quick goodbye before driving off.

Robin said a quick goodnight to you before heading up the stairs, along with a promise to see you tomorrow for a girl’s day. Then, it was just you, Eddie and Steve in the living room, Eddie at the couch setting up his bed for the night while the two of you stood in silence by the sliding glass door still.

“I–I guess I should probably head home for the night,” you say, breaking the silence between the three of you as you start towards your bag and coat on the other side of the room.

“Why don’t you just stay?” Steve interjects a little too loudly, the weed and wine in his system instilling some false confidence in him. “It’s so cold out and I’m sure at this point your parents already think you’re staying anyways.”

You stop on your toes at Steve’s voice, cheeks heating at how interested he sounded in you staying there for the night. It’s not like it was a far and dangerous walk, Steve just wanted an excuse to be around you for longer. You turn around to look at him, then to Eddie, who was giving you a tired smile.

“We can have a sleepover on the couch,” Eddie chuckles, reaching for one of the pillows he was setting out for himself to move it to the other side of the couch for you.

“I don’t have any clothes,” you suggest, looking down at your velvet dress that would be extremely uncomfortable to sleep in.

“Oh, I’m sure Stevie has some clothes that you can sleep in!” Eddie says, shooting a smirk in his direction.

“O–Of course I do, I’m sure I still have your favorite pajama pants up there if you want them.” Steve says hurriedly, as if you would change your mind if he didn’t answer quickly enough.

You give the two of them a smile, pretending to contemplate the decision for a moment before nodding. You could’ve sworn you heard Steve let out a breath of relief at your nod, but he turned towards the stairs before you could acknowledge it. Without a word, you follow right behind him up the stairs, slowly realizing the effects of the cherry wine and weed are coming to the surface.

Steve steps into his bedroom and you follow behind him, a situation the two of you knew all too well.

—————————

You don’t know what led to this, but there you were, in Steve’s bedroom, him towering over your space on his bed as he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Tongue against teeth, hands against cheeks, legs tangled together, just like they were meant to be.

This wasn’t supposed to happen, you swore to yourself you wouldn’t come crawling back every time you were in town, but here you were.

Somehow coming upstairs for a stupid pair of pajamas led to Steve giving you that look of lust and utter desire, led to you becoming a willing participant in his games once again after swearing you would never touch him again, led to you letting him sneak his way into your heart – and pants – yet again.

Your head is spinning as he kisses you, his lips slotted into yours like they belonged there, a perfect fit. You’re unsure if it’s the wine, the weed or the sheer yearning that’s making you feel like this, but you don’t want it to stop any time soon.

There’s a gnawing feeling in your stomach when Steve props his knee up on the bed next to your hip, you know you should stop before he gets any further, but the ache between your thighs is outweighing any thought of what would come after he spreads you open.

Steve groans into your mouth when you pull him closer, fingers intertwining with and tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, and you only smirked against his lips in satisfaction. You knew everything about the boy who was turning to a puddle just from the touch of your fingers. You knew exactly how to make him tick, and him the same for you.

“Fuck,” Steve breathes when he finally pulls away from you, full lips parted as he stares down at you. There’s a twinkle in his eye that you haven’t seen in so long, one you used to mistake for love but now only know to be pure lust. “I–I’m sorry I just, I need–I need you.”

You stare at the desperate, doe-eyed man in front of you for a long moment, mind wandering to a place of fear as you think about what you’re about to do.

Instead of saying anything in reply, you close the space between the two of you once again, smashing your lips into his in a feverish and bruising kiss. Steve is on you in an instant, gently pushing you back and up on the bed, letting your head fall on his pillows. You can tell by the way he stumbles on his way up to you that he’s intoxicated — on the weed or the wine, or you, you’re not sure — but you soon realize that you are too.

A hand wanders toward the hem of Steve’s sweater, tugging at it quickly as he pulls away from the bruising kiss. He wastes no time in pulling the cable-knit up and over his head, tossing it to the side while sitting up on his knees to take you the sight of you in. Your skin was hot and your eyes were blown with lust, cheeks flushed and lips parted as you stared up at him.

You’d only been under him for a minute and had completely folded to his touch. You cursed yourself for letting your inhibitions crumble so quickly, but another part of you didn’t actually care, the same part of you that wanted to claim him as yours forever.

Steve’s eyes trailed over you, from your cheeks to the low neckline of your dress, over the curve of your hips, ending on your thighs spread on either side of his knees. The crushed velvet of your skirt bunched where your leg met your hip, letting the fabric ride up enough for Steve to see exactly what he was searching for.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of your white lace underwear beneath, having to hold himself back from diving in right that second.

“You’re so beautiful,” he groaned, hands tracing over your hip bones while lowering his lips to yours once again.

A moan falls from your lips as his meet yours, his knee coming up between your thighs, creating friction against your core.

“Fuck—Stevie,” you say, choking back a pitiful whine while grinding against his thigh desperately, “please, I need you.”

You swear you hear Steve nearly choke at your words, three words he’d been dying to hear from you for months.

“I know, I know, baby.” he coos at you, trying to keep his cool as he strains against his pants, “I’ll take care of you.”

You nod feverishly as he leans down to pepper kisses along your neck, taking his sweet time while trying not to get drunk off the scent of you.

“This—This doesn’t mean anyth—this doesn’t change anything,” he stammers between kisses, peering up at you as he speaks, “we can still stay close—keep being friends after this.”

You hum in agreement, ignoring the dread building in your gut as you do. You want to be more than friends, you want to scream at him until he admits that he loves you too. But he nearly said it doesn’t mean anything, so you’re convinced he wants nothing to do with you after tonight, nothing but a friend to laugh with and a pretty face to fuck on every break from college.

You push the thoughts from your mind, focusing on the boy in front of you as his hands begin to massage your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your core with every circle. Steve chuckles lowly as you let out a whine of anticipation, teasing you silently as he gives in to your desires.

Steve knows your body like he knows his own, so what comes after pulling off your dress is nearly second nature to him. One large hand trails to the waistband of your underwear while the other reaches for your breast, nipple peaked from the exposure to the cold air conditioning. You moan in surprise when he wastes no time in putting his mouth to work on your other nipple, tugging your underwear down your legs simultaneously.

His fingers immediately fall to your core once you’re free of the underwear, fingertips circling the bundle of nerves at the top as you let out another whimper.

His moves are careful but quick, he knows you want to waste no more time, and you’ll whine about his teasing if he doesn’t act soon.

He’s out of his boxers in an instant, one hand keeping contact with your clit as he situates himself above you.

“You look so good like this, sweetheart.” Steve says, voice low as his eyes raked over your body, “so pretty spread out for me, all fucked out for me even though I’ve barely touched you.”

“Stevie…” you whimper, reaching a hand up to him, but he pulls from your reach with a smirk across his face.

“Tell me what you want from me,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek as he lines himself up with your slick, teasing the tip against you slowly.

“I—I need you, Steve.” you beg, cheeks flushing at the admittance, “I need you to fuck me, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” he retorts with a smirk, sliding into you with ease.

You both let out a low moan as he bottoms out, filling you in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. You forgot how thick he was in the time you’d been gone, your body wasn’t used to the stretch of his cock inside you, but it still felt like he was meant to be there. Like he was the only one who could make you feel this way.

And you were right, nobody could make you feel that way. Nobody else could touch you and make you fall apart in less than five minutes like he could. Nobody else could get you so riled up over a few praises thrown in with some condescension (which you embarrassingly loved too much) like he could. Nobody could hold off from cumming long enough to give you three orgasms before getting one of their own like he could.

Nobody did it like he could.

This doesn’t mean anything you repeat in your mind, clinging to his arm like your life depended on it after the two of you calmed your breathing and cleaned up. You weren’t sure if you were repeating those words to convince yourself or to ease your own mind about what just went down, but you knew they stung your heart more than any fighting words the two of you had ever exchanged.

“I missed this, cuddling with you, holdin’ you like this.” was all he slurred out against your hair, pressing a sleepy kiss into the crown of your head.

“Yeah, me too.” you mumble in return, accepting the warmth of his embrace as sleep finally took you in, ignoring the gnawing pain growing in your chest.

—————————

The spice of Steve’s cologne mixes with the familiar scent of his room, filling your senses when you wake, nearly sending you into a panic. You sit upright in the bed, turning to face the boy you claimed you wanted nothing to do with romantically just a few hours ago. Steve is sleeping peacefully next to you, plush lips parted and brows furrowed as he subconsciously pouts about the loss of your touch. The alarm clock behind him read 2:03 A.M., meaning you hadn’t been out for too long, but long enough to sober you up somehow.

Shit. Shit. Shit. I gotta get out of here. Is all you can think as you stumble out from under the comforter, knowing you would never live it down if anyone found you’d slept in his bed, especially with your limbs entangled like they just were. You quickly dress in the clothes you’d originally come into the bedroom to fetch, and snuck out of the bedroom without a sound.

Before making it to the living room, you turned toward the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of water. What you weren’t expecting to be faced with in the kitchen was Eddie, but there he was, leaning against the counter with disheveled hair that probably mirrored your own.

“What a night so far, huh?” he jokes as you shoot him a knowing glare while trudging across the tiled floor.

“Don’t even start with me, Munson.” you warn, absentmindedly reaching your hand up to the cabinet for a glass while shaking your head.

“Woah, don’t get that attitude with me! I didn’t say anything,” he laughs, setting his own glass into the sink, “but that also doesn’t mean I didn’t hear anything.”

“You did not,” you snap back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he gives you a shit-eating grin, “there’s no way you heard anything because nothing happened.”

“You’ve always been such a bad liar, Y/N.” Eddie laughs, stepping out of the kitchen to walk towards the living room where the two of you would be sleeping.

A sigh escapes your lips when Eddie leaves, letting you be alone with your thoughts finally. There was an ache in your chest that wasn’t going away any time soon, and it was in that moment that you wondered if you would ever be able to get over Steve Harrington, or if you would be in a continuous cycle of hurt and comfort for the rest of your damned life.

You collected your thoughts as you downed a glass of water, throwing back two ibuprofens with the last chug for good measure, before finding your way back to the living room. Eddie was on his side on the long side of the L-shaped couch, leaving the shorter side for you to sleep on. His eyes were closed as you laid down with your feet next to his own, but you knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” you heard through the darkness after turning off the table lamp once you were settled.

“I know.” you sigh in return, staring up at the ceiling that was only lit by the streetlights flowing in from outside. “I just don’t want to live like this forever, I–I can’t keep being the secret that Steve is too embarrassed to talk about.”

“He’s not embarrassed of you,” Eddie said, voice barely above a whisper, just loud enough for you to hear, “he’s just afraid of fucking everything up even more than he already has.”

If only he could say that to my face, then maybe I’d believe it, you thought to yourself, chest tightening at just the thought of the brown-eyed boy who was fast asleep upstairs.

You don’t reply to Eddie, unsure of what to say back, unsure of what you could squeak out without breaking down.

“Goodnight, Eds,” is all you say in return, though you know you won’t be getting any sleep.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

—————————

After falling asleep for all of fifty minutes around 5 in the morning, you decided you had to leave.

The entirety of the almost four hours you laid on Steve’s couch consisted of staring at the ceiling and fighting off tears while thinking about how you regretted everything you said and did over the last twelve hours.

Coming to the Harrington house was a mistake, even stepping foot back in Hawkins was feeling like a mistake at this point.

The only words repeating in your mind were This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything. This doesn’t mean anything.

You eventually had enough of the self-loathing and inability to sleep, so it was time to go. It was time to hastily change out of the pajamas that smelled too much like the boy you loved too hard, and time to go collapse in your own bed. There was no telling if you’d actually fall asleep once you made it there, but that was beside the point.

It was when you finally made it back to your parent’s house, to your childhood bedroom, that you swore that you wouldn’t see Steve Harrington again for the rest of Thanksgiving break, and hopefully would avoid seeing him again for a long while, for the sake of saving yourself from another heartbreak.

---------

tags: @carinacassiopeiae

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stevis writes #ttds*

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pascalispretty · 4 months

Text

Old Holiday, New Traditions

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: cowgirl sex, unsafe sex, Joel mouthing off during sex, established relationship

Summary: Safe in Jackson, Joel celebrates his first New Year's Eve in decades. (ao3).

Notes: My Secret Santa gift for @bluebeary-jay! Merry Christmas! My thanks as always to @misscharlielulu for her support.

Joel had never been one for a big celebration on New Year’s Eve. There had been a few parties with Sarah’s mother when he was younger. Later, he rang in the New Year with Sarah – sitting her on his shoulders to watch fireworks, or moving clocks forward to feign the moment of midnight for her.

After Sarah, he’d had no desire to celebrate. It was just another marker of time, the yawning gulf opening up in his life between her past and his present.

All the New Year meant to him was another year without his baby girl.

Yet somehow, between their arrival in Jackson in the spring and the approaching winter, Ellie had gotten him to look forward to it. She spoke excitedly of the party held in Jackson to kick off the new year. It involved weeks of preparation, and almost everybody in town pitching in to help. Slowly, the promise of the New Year was no longer something he dreaded.

And then there was you. You, who’d been in Jackson for longer and filled Ellie’s head with stories of New Year’s celebrations past. You, who’d somehow worked your way into Joel’s bed, and then his heart. He’s hard pressed to explain how you – bright, tender you, who still got upset when your neighbours’ cat left small carcasses on your doorstep – had taken to him so quickly.

Between you and Ellie, you convince him to attend his first New Year’s Eve in decades.

****

It’s late by the time the two of you head back to Joel’s place. It’s almost one in the morning, but the party in the Tipsy Bison isn’t showing much sign of slowing down. You’d left Ellie giggling in a corner with Cat, the two of them no doubt thrilled to have pulled one over on Joel about being ‘just friends’.

The snow crunches under your feet as you make your way home, your hand tucked into the crook of Joel’s elbow. The sound of the party carries far down the street, almost every resident of Jackson still inside. Only those on patrol, and those too sick to get out of bed, would miss it. It’s a celebration of surviving and thriving for another year.

“Make any resolutions this year?” You ask Joel teasingly. The air is cold enough to make your breath mist, and you shiver despite your warm clothes.

“Yeah. Stop lettin’ you ‘n Ellie talk me into stuff,” he huffs.

“Oh come on. You had a good time.” You had caught him smiling at one point, watching Ellie dance with some of the other teenagers.

“Wasn’t terrible,” he says eventually. “Ellie looked like she had a real good time.”

“Yeah, she did,” you agree. “All the other kids seem to really like her.” Cat in particular, though you don’t say that aloud. It had been sweet to watch the two tiptoe around one another with all the hallmarks of an adolescent crush.

“It’s good for her. Bein’ around people her own age, bein’ able to have friends.”

“I still can’t believe Dina managed to get her to dance.” A smile tugs at the corner of Joel’s mouth again. His smiles aren’t frequent, but it’s a huge change from the intimidating, scowling man who had first arrived in Jackson over a year ago. Slowly but surely, you think Jackson is becoming his home.

In just the same way, his home is becoming yours. You’re spending fewer nights at the house you share with Dina and Rebecca. Ellie no longer reacts with any surprise when she finds you having breakfast at her kitchen table. You even keep a change of clothes tucked in the bottom of Joel’s dresser. You’d never ask Joel to put a label on whatever you are, but you’re not sure you need him to. As if to prove your point, he doesn’t even ask if you’re coming home with him; he just carries on walking right past the turn that leads to your house.

The noise of the party has long faded by the time you get to Joel and Ellie’s house; your boots crunching through the snow is the only sound you can hear. You and Joel stomp your feet to shake off the loose snow, and unlace your boots standing right next to the front door so you can step inside in your socks. Joel had imposed the rule about not tracking snow inside after Ellie had gone flying on the wooden floor left slick by snowmelt, and you’d both readily agreed. Joel takes your boots with him, doubtless to put them with his in the kitchen to dry off as you start taking off your many layers.

In just your jeans and a tee shirt, you make your way upstairs to Joel’s bedroom. The heat is on; it doesn’t take long for the warmth to come back to your feet and fingers. Turning into Joel’s room, you don’t turn on the main light. Instead, you light the candle on the bedside table, casting the room in a soft golden glow.

The candle lit, you move over to the record player in the corner. There’s a vinyl already waiting, so you simply switch it on and lower the needle. Soft, Spanish guitar fills the room. You’re flicking through the crate full of records when Joel’s strong arms loop around your middle. You can’t help smiling to yourself, resting your hand on his as he kisses the side of your head.

“Music, candles, you got me drunk…you tryin’ to seduce me darlin’?” He whispers against the shell of your ear.

“Tommy was the one who got you drunk,” you remind him. Joel grunts in acknowledgement, squeezing you a little tighter.

“My mind ain’t on Tommy right now.” He turns you in his arms, those dark eyes of his unfathomable as he looks down at you. “I’m more concerned with how I can thank my girl.”

Before you can respond, he leans in and kisses you. It’s a soft kiss, barely more than a peck. It’s still enough to send the first sparks running through your veins. Joel brings one of his hands up to cup your jaw, his large palm warm against your skin.

“You looked pretty when you were dancing, baby,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your cheek. A derisive snort escapes you.

“I looked like an idiot.” Dina had pulled you in to dance, some variation on a jig that had both of you collapsing into breathless giggles by the end.

“You looked happy.” Joel kisses you again, a little deeper this time. The simple statement fills you with a different kind of warmth, and you make a contented sound against his full lips. You loop your arms around his neck, trying to get as close to him as you can. He holds you tight, and not for the first time you’re struck by the contrast in his sheer strength, and the gentleness with which he handles you.

The hand at your waist creeps below the hem of your shirt, sliding up to cup the weight of your breast. Even over your bra, his touch makes you shudder.

“Off,” he huffs impatiently, breaking the kiss to pull your tee shirt up and over your head. You start in on the buttons of his flannel shirt, doing your best to concentrate as Joel brushes your hair back over your shoulder and starts kissing your neck. His stubble prickles at your delicate skin and his lips immediately kiss away the sting.

The heat of arousal floods through your body, your fingers skittering over the small buttons. It takes you longer than it should to get the navy shirt off him, followed swiftly by the soft grey tee shirt he had on underneath. You can feel his cock starting to stiffen against your belly, and it only adds to the tingling sensation under your skin as your nerve endings set alight.

Joel steers you both back towards the bed, the two of you shedding your remaining clothes as quickly as you can. He settles himself into bed, leaning back against the headboard as he helps you into his lap. You sigh softly as you settle on his thighs, one of your hands curling around the wood of the headboard and the other finding Joel’s shoulder.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” Joel murmurs, his hands warm on your hips. He pulls you closer so your hips are flush with his. His cock, hot and hard, bumps against your middle, trapped between your bodies. He crushes you close in a deep kiss, tilting his head to slot his mouth against yours. One of his hands slides up to caress your breasts again, touching you with increasing impatience.

When you break apart, he leaves you gasping for air. Precome smears across your belly as you press closer to him. It’s not enough. You feel uncomfortably slick and devastatingly empty; you let out a soft, longing sound.

“Need you,” you whine, your fingertips skating over his stomach to grasp his cock. The weight of it in your hand makes you shiver. Joel uses his grip on your hips to encourage you up, rising up on your knees enough to be able to notch the broad head of his cock against your entrance. A hiss escapes through Joel’s teeth.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” He exhales a gasp into the side of your neck, his breath hot on your skin. He bites into the soft skin as you start to sink down on him. You inhale the scent of his hair, the soft curls tickling your face as he trails kisses and nips down your skin.

“That’s it,” he mumbles against your throat. “That’s it, good girl, take it just like that…” His hands help you move. As wet as you are, he’s so much that you can’t take him all in one go. You have to sink down slowly, impaling yourself with gradual flicks of your hips. Every thick inch of him strains your muscles, but the feeling of fullness is glorious.

“Oh, fuck, Joel-” you manage, breathless. He makes a hushing sound, smoothing one hand down the line of your spine. It’s meant to be a soothing gesture, but it only serves to wind you up even more, your nerves fraying at his touch. He flexes his hips, somehow driving himself in even deeper, and you whimper into his hair.

Joel coils one strong arm around your waist, his nose pressing against the hinge of your jaw. He lets you catch your breath. When you give your first, halting twist of your hips, he stutters an inhale, the fingers on your hip tightening.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, his voice tight with need. “Ride me, go on.” He starts to move with you, meeting every slow stroke of your hips. Every pass of his cock stokes the fire in your belly higher. You cling to him, needing to be as close as physically possible. The room feels suddenly stifling, your world shrunk down to just your bodies on Joel’s bed.

Your pace had started slow, but Joel is beginning to move with growing insistence. The hand on your hip presses between your bodies. When his searching fingertips find your clit, you drop your head back like a puppet whose strings have been cut. It opens you up more to Joel, giving him easier access to the sensitive bundle of nerves at your apex.

“Need you to come,” he grunts, his thumb stroking across your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.” With every thrust of his hips, he works his thumb across your clit, setting you alight from within and without. Every shift and touch pulls you closer towards the edge. He mouths at your neck, your eyes fluttering closed as you writhe on his lap.

You start to move a little faster, chasing the high of your climax. Joel matches your pace, the obscene sound of your bodies meeting filling the room.

“Like that, that’s it, sweetheart,” he croons. “Good girl, baby, take what you need…”

“Joel,” you whine. “Joel, Joel, Joel-” You say it like a prayer, chanting it over and over.

It’s not long before he sends you hurtling over the edge, your orgasm hitting you so hard that you barely manage to hold yourself upright. The tension that’s been coiling in your belly snaps, sending molten fire pouring through your body. You feel him covering your face with kisses, the sensation of it far away somehow as you come back to yourself slowly.

His thumb keeps stroking circles around your clit, dragging out your climax. It threatens to push you into oversensitivity, and you whimper pathetically. Your cunt clenches around his length, the muscles unsure whether they want to pull him in deeper or push him out. The fluttering of your walls must get him there; before your brain can catch up to what’s happening, he’s pulled out of you.

It only takes a few desperate strokes of his hand before he’s coming all over your stomach. You feel ruinously empty, your primal need for Joel not helped by the ragged groan he lets out as he comes. He sits back against the headboard, and you watch the rise and fall of his broad chest as he struggles to catch his breath.

“Sorry baby,” he mutters, his thumb catching a pearlescent bead of come before it can drip down onto your cunt. He reaches for the stack of rags he keeps in his bedside table for this purpose, carefully wiping away his spend. You’re too tired to wash properly; instead, you simply let yourself fall onto the bed beside him.

Joel presses a kiss to your forehead before rolling over to blow out the candle. Taking advantage of the movement, you curl up behind him, spooning him. For once, he doesn’t grumble and protest and claim he doesn’t like it. He just rests his hand atop yours, and lets you snuggle closer.

You look down to see if he needs help as he draws the blankets over you both, and you notice the window for the first time since you came home.

At some point while you were having sex, it started snowing. It’s coming down thick, the world outside the window only visible in shades of white and grey. Tomorrow, everything will look fresh and new, the perfect start to a new year.

“Joel?” You whisper softly.

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you agreed to come.” You rest your head against his back. It takes him a long moment to reply, and you almost wonder if he’s fallen asleep on you.

“I’m glad I went. It was my first good New Year’s in decades,” he says eventually. You snuggle closer, his back warm against your cheek.

“Happy New Year, Joel.”

Taglist:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu @apenny4thots @its-nebuleuse @irishavengersassemble

#joel miller x reader #space sisters secret santa 2023 #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller

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joy-laufeyson · 2 months

Text

Bakugo Katsuki fic recommendations

(Reader inserts) Recommendations of my favorite headcanons/imagines/fics/scenarios (I don’t own any)

・・・・・・

@ adoringmha's masterlist @ andypantsx's masterlist @ angelshimaa's masterlist @ bkgml's masterlist @ cinnamonreccs' masterlist @ moominsuki's masterlist

・��・・・・

fluff / fever talk

sfw / the jealousy type

sfw / lucid dreaming

fluff / freckles

sfw / number neighbor (smau, masterlist)

sfw / “shut up and heal me”

fluff / apologizing

fluff / be my (fake) girlfriend

angst fluff / mean it

sfw fluff / truth or dare

fluff / falling in love with you

fluff / he hasn’t told his friends about you

angst fluff / petting his hair

fluff/ you fell asleep on him

fluff / helping him with his tie

nsfw ish / lends you a shirt

angst fluff / seeing you cry

angst fluff / he wakes up

time-skip (aged up)

sfw / drunk-dazed

fluff / as the sun goes down

fluff / permanent ink

angst fluff / kiss me!

fluff / runaway party

fluff nsfw / birthday

fluff / valentines day (part 1, part 2)

fluff / ...but I don't like a gold rush

angst fluff / “do you think i’m a good person?”

fluff / Hero Awards

sfw / going to bed upset

fluff / most beautiful woman

fluff / late night confessions

fluff / anyone would be silly not to love you

angst fluff / tears

fluff / interviews (masterlist)

fluff / skincare

fluff / he only likes real kisses

fluff / hot cocoa

fluff / scars

fluff / 4:29

fluff / secret santa

angst fluff / you remind him that he is a person

fluff / baby

fluff / "go back to sleep"

fluff / a lot better now

fluff / can’t sleep until you’re home

fluff / the stages of me and you

sfw / you get dumped twenty seconds before meeting your boss

angst fluff / emotionally constipated

fluff/ he doesn't want to go

fluff / eating your leftovers

sfw / drunk

angst fluff / when you have a bad day

nsfw ish / victoria secret set

nsfw ish / nails

angst fluff / charred dreams

・・・・・・

Updated:27-March-2024

Other BNHA fics

#bakugo katsuki x you #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x you #dynamight x reader #bnha imagines #mha imagines #my hero academia headcanons #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia headcanons

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bby-deerling · 5 months

Text

floral & fading (law x reader nsfw)

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 1.7k masterlist

a secret santa present for my lovely anie <3 @strawheart-pirate

cw: afab!reader, piv, rough sex, scratching, choking, hate sex kinda, law is bad with feelings, reader is also kinda bad with feelings, angst, bittersweet, hurt no comfort, you let this guy hit once and he's totally obsessed w/ you, strawhat!reader, messy relationship dynamics

Law needs you desperately despite the fact he knows he cannot have you.

He hadn’t intended to get attached to you, not in the slightest. Mind scattered, full of adrenaline, and buzzing with alcohol, he had meant for you to be nothing more than a late-night drunken distraction from the flood of emotions he felt after the events of Dressrosa. Somewhere in the murky deep of the back of his mind, you had snuck in and sank your ragged claws into the sulci of his brain, to the point where he can barely close his eyes without picturing your mischievous smirk, or the contortions on your face as he fucked you, squeezing his tattooed hand around your throat.

For all intents and purposes, Law couldn’t stand you. Brimming with intelligence and wit, you squandered your potential by wasting precious time goofing around with Luffy. The strategic and combative skills you possess in battle make you an essential asset to your crew, but you were resistant to discussing any sort of long-term plan with him, insisting that wasn’t how Luffy rolled—it drove him crazy, and gave him the deep urge to break you until you finally relented and decided to use your mind properly like he wanted you to.

“Come on, Traffy! Tell us who won!” you exclaim one day after a water gun fight, out of breath and nearly falling over as you slide along the wet deck in your flip flops, Luffy close behind you.

Law rolls his eyes and sighs, not bothering to look up from the book he was reading. “How should I know? I wasn’t paying attention to your nonsense.” he says in his usual dry monotone.

“Traffy, you were supposed to be watching us!” Luffy whines, putting his hands on his hips as he pouts. Law ignores both of you, hoping you would eventually find another judge to determine the victor of your silly game; he thinks you’re finally discussing finding someone else to bother when you whisper something in Luffy’s ear that makes your Captain giggle maniacally.

“We decided to team up.” Luffy says proudly. Law catches your grin in his peripherals, but continues to sit, eyes fixed on the pages in his lap, and ignores you, a mistake that would soon lead to his downfall.

“So…You lose!” you shout with a grin.

With your words comes a stream of water straight to his face, followed by a second, less accurately aimed jet from Luffy that drenches his book and leaves Law fuming. You keep that infuriating, mischievous grin plastered across your face, but he slightly smirks as he notices the way you swallow hard as he glares at you, a silent acknowledgment that you knew you were certainly in for it now.

“Shishishi—you’re in trouble with Traffy! Not me though, I’m gettin’ away!” Luffy cackles, using his rubber arms to swing to the other side of the ship, leaving you to Law’s devices, and oh, did he have plans for you.

Your idiocy had earned you a harsh quickie in the library, full of bites and dirty talk and nails dragging into his back.

“F-Fuck, Traffy—” you whimper as he bucks his hips harshly, filling you up so deeply his cock brushes against your cervix.

He yanks on your hair harshly and sinks his teeth into your neck, not caring in the slightest if he leaves marks on your precious, unblemished skin. “Brat. Say my name properly.” he hisses in your ear, wanting nothing more than to hear the word fall off your lips.

“Mmmf, ‘m sorry, Law…” you whine, tilting your head towards him to give him more access to your neck. Law—hearing you drop the nickname and letting his real name drip off your tongue drives him wild and makes him drive his cock into you even harder as he bites and sucks along the column of your neck. The familiarity and intimacy of it—even though it’s entirely manufactured, and he would never dream of displaying a similar vulnerability and dropping the -ya from your name—allows him to pretend you care more than you do. It lets him pretend you care as much as he does.

“You better be.” he whispers, roughly clawing at your back with his jagged nails. He wanted a string of apologies out of you before he was done—he’d already coaxed one out of you for spraying him in the face with the water gun, but burrowing your way under his skin and refusing to evacuate was the much more severe crime at hand, one with a sentence that ended up benefiting you both physically, but left him in a mental state even more frazzled and unfocused than before.

Irrationality began to cloud his judgement even more so as time went on, and he insists on you being in the group he brings to Wano with him. Having you on the Polar Tang, even for a short time, is intoxicating to him—with the temptation of having you so close overpowering him, he finds himself uncharacteristically taking breaks from his work to use you for stress-relief. He tells himself that’s all it is despite the fact he knows it’s a weak lie. You’ve deciphered his feelings by this point; he can see it written on your face, though you cautiously say nothing. Instead, you hang around after your unsavory activities, following him around the submarine and staying up late at his side, curiously and gently prying at aspects of himself that he thought he had locked away for good. He’s furious at you for the way you’re able to unravel him, ripping him open emotionally just as he tears at your insides physically, and he takes his frustrations out on you accordingly. However, you never seem to mind, and take all he gives you in strides; he’s mean, nasty, and rough with you in bed, but no matter how hard he tries to keep control, there’s a glint in your eyes that says you’re the one with the real power—you’re the one who can get the Surgeon of Death to snap and succumb to his base urges, and it enthralls you, much to his continued frustration.

He finds himself obsessing over you so deeply that he makes every excuse to keep you apart from your crewmates until the rest arrived with Sanji in tow. He gives you a cover story to keep you close to him and continues his façade of this simply being sex to him, though you both know it’s more at this point.

“I like you, Law. I've gotten attached.” you said one night, words nearly drowned out by the chorus of cicadas hissing in the distance.

You were curled into his side, fingers tracing along his chest tattoos; it’s a rare moment where he lets you to show him affection like this, and your confession makes him deeply regret allowing you this luxury. Despite the way your presence makes his heart contort and twist, despite all the hoops he’s jumped through to keep you close to him, and despite the fact that if he keeps his feelings bottled up for too much longer, he may never get the chance to vocalize them, he remains stubborn, letting a painful silence emanate into the night.

“It’s silly of me, I know, but I can’t help it.” you whisper, flinching at the way your voice cracks in the process.

At times, Law saw you as obnoxious and silly, but you were also clever, compassionate, understanding, and strong, especially as you withstand all of his erratic mood swings as he sorts out his feelings for you—that’s why it cuts him to the bone when he causes you pain like this.

“Neither can I.” he whispers, unable to hold his sentiments back any longer. He feels a touch lighter, but is not surprised when the melancholy resting between the two of you remains hanging in the air, coating you like a blanket. After all, this could not and would not last forever, and once this alliance ends, the only glimpse he may ever get of you again might be on your wanted poster.

When all of the business in Wano ends, he has half the mind to take you for himself—to make you his and refuse to let go no matter how much Luffy begged him to release you, but he knows you would never leave your friends and go with him willingly. Maybe that’s what infuriates him most—no matter how intimate and soft your half-lidded stare is while he fucks the daylights out of you, you would always love the sea, freedom, and your stupid antics with your crew more than him. No amount of late-night conversations, full of hesitant divulgences and barriers broken, and no amount of physical contact would ever permanently tie you together, despite how much he wished that wasn’t the case.

Law knows this is the last time he’ll have you beneath him, close to him, and vulnerable for him, but he can’t bring himself to be gentle, overwhelmed by the violent storm in his chest. Laid out and panting, your fingers curl into the sheets beneath you as his skilled fingers work magic on your clit. Just as your thighs begin to twitch, he pulls his hand away, delighting in the way you whine and plead with him in frustration. Inked fingers roughly squeeze the sides of your windpipe, making you squeak for him.

“You didn’t think I’d let you have it this easy, did you?” he taunts, using his other hand to grip your chin, smirking as he hovers over you before planting his lips onto yours. Heated, deep, and full of longing on both sides, the kiss is enough to nearly pull his heart apart in two. He takes great care to memorize the drag of your lips against his, the way the plush skin of your hips feels in his grasp, and the grip of your walls against him as his cock slides deep inside of you.

If this is the last time Law is going to have you, he is intent on drawing it out as long as he possibly can before he lets you go. He just wishes things didn’t have to end this way.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x you #law x you #trafalgar law x y/n #law x y/n #one piece smut #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #x reader #mdni

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tieronecrush · 4 months

Text

office party

javier peña x f!reader

summary: your friend with benefits, javier, is your plus one for your dreaded office holiday party. when a coworker gets a bit too comfortable, javier steps in and shows you exactly how he feels about you.

rating: M

wc: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, inappropriate advances from coworker, fwb, probably missing some so lmk what!!

a/n: my contribution to @pedrostories secret santa event!! was a busy holiday season so i wish i could have done more but excited to participate nonetheless. i hope you enjoy @flightlessangelwings and happy holidays to you!!! and tysm my love @northernbluess for proofing

dividers by @saradika

“Christ, where is he? Gettin’ freezing out here…” you mumble to yourself, gritted through your teeth as you stand shivering in your party attire — a tasteful black velvet cocktail dress, hem stopping a couple of inches above your knees and long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. Fidgeting with your charm necklace, you nervously scan the entrance stairs to the history museum for the familiar face.

It’s the night before your office lets out for the holidays, and it’s also the night they host their annual holiday party. Even though it was quite the affair and your large law firm spares no expense for the event, you never really looked forward to being confronted with colleagues in ways you didn’t need to see them, and there was usually one man who would hit on you. Open bar, catered food, always in a gorgeous venue, it was a recipe for a great time or a horrible time, depending on your found company for the night. This year was the history museum, one of your favorite spots in the city. The daydreams you’ve had about taking him here pop into your mind like a flash in the pan — fleeting, and simply something to stay as a daydream.

A tinge of reluctance tugs in your gut. Was it weird to ask him here? Is he going to stand you up?

But then, there was Javier. Looking sharp as ever in a suit, one you’ve seen him in once after he stopped by yours after a late night working. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a red tie to fit into the holiday spirit. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots you, taking the stone steps two at a time as he approaches. It had taken a bit of convincing — virtually bribing — to get him to agree to be your plus one for the night, and when he did confirm that he would come along with you, the prospect of the party actually being something more bearable skyrocketed instead of the excruciating evening you usually expect.

“Hey there, querida. Why’re you waiting out in the cold for me? Debe estar congelándose. (You must be freezing.)” Javier greets you with concern knit into his brow, his big brown eyes softened and sparkling in the low streetlight. His large palms find the sides of your arms, rubbing gently to warm you up.

“Didn’t want to get pulled into the abyss alone in there,” you jest, “I don’t know if you’d have been able to find me with all the hiding I have to do from weird coworkers.”

You laugh and Javier chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head as he relaxes in front of you. Nodding his head toward the door, he follows behind you as you lead with a hand at your lower back.

“Is there anyone I should watch out for specifically tonight? Am I gonna have to act as a bodyguard? Should I tell any of the creeps I have a gun?” Javier’s lips graze your ear as he speaks, keeping close to you when you enter and the sounds of the party erupt. A jolt runs down your spine from the intimate contact. It’s your turn to shake your head, breathing out a laugh as you limply hit your hand against his chest.

Your excitement around seeing Javier and spending more time with him was getting much more frequent and much more intense. Bordering the point where you don’t know if you can keep up the arrangement with the feelings you’re developing for him.

Friends of a few years, there’s always been a flirty undertone between you and Javier. It built up to the point that when everyone had cleared out from a dinner party at your place, Javier stayed behind to help clean up — always a gentleman — and the two of you, admittedly a bit tipsy from the wine that was flowing all night, told each other one a whim that you were attracted to each other. Both free from any ties of old relationships, you fell into an agreement: sex, great sex at that, with no strings attached. You two would remain friends and get exactly what you wanted, which was each other, without the messiness of a relationship. Something you were both jaded from.

These days, however, the lines were starting to blur on your end. Everything he did seemed to tip you further into the deep end before you finally came to terms and accepted that you had completely cannonballed into it.

Javier is a good guy. Didn’t have that reputation around town when you first met, but getting to know him in the wee hours of the morning after a few rounds, you fell fast and hard. It wasn’t until recently that you came to terms with it.

“Nobody needs the interrogation tactics or intimidation tonight, Peña.”

“Okay, okay…Tengo que asegurarme de que te traten bien. (I have to make sure you’re treated right.) One of their best employees, shouldn’t have to put up with the shit, querida.”

The air in the grand entrance of the city’s museum crackles with holiday cheer as festive decorations adorn every corner. Garland hangs around the banisters of the grand staircase that leads further into the museum, but most of the activity is in the large, marble-lined room you both stand in. Nearly every employee seems to be in attendance, people milling about in cliques and others indulging in drinking or dancing.

As both of you saunter toward the bar, the atmosphere softens with each step, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of coworkers weaving together into a cacophony of merriment. Javier grabs you two drinks, a glass of champagne for you and whiskey neat for him, toasting to the night ahead. The clinking of glasses resonates with your unspoken agreement: tonight, like every other night, would end the same way. No strings.

Amidst the swirl of laughter and twinkling lights, and the loosening power of liquor, the boundary between friendship and something deeper becomes increasingly blurred. Flirty comments dance back and forth, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

“You look beautiful tonight, cariño. How come I haven’t seen this dress before?” Javier asks, the two of you standing at a cocktail table, alone and enjoying it.

“Guess you’d have to be my plus one more often, Javi. Then you could see all the dresses in my closet,” you counter, smirking playfully and biting back the desire to mention something akin to a real date for both of you.

“Guess so, querida. Might have to make this a regular thing.” Javier sends you a wink before clinking your glasses together in another smaller toast, a smirk painting his face as he lifts the tumbler to his mouth for a sip.

With every exchanged glance and teasing remark, it’s evident that you’re tiptoeing on the edge of uncharted territory, yearning to express feelings that had long been confined. It’s unclear if Javier feels the same, but soft touches and gentle words ply you open even further, teetering with falling completely.

Then, amidst the dance of emotions and flirtations, a coworker appears in the corner of your eye, sauntering toward the table and bursting the privacy bubble that you happily curated with Javier. His name’s Jake, a man around your age who is friendly with you in the office, sociable guy with one of those “winning” personalities the partners would compliment endlessly. A guy’s guy. But one that had no problem approaching the women in the office. With a warm smile, he extends a hand towards the man at your side, introducing himself with an easy charm that seemed almost too perfect — of course, referring to Javier already as his ‘buddy’. The hint of jealousy that flickers across Javier's face doesn’t escape your notice, and you can’t help but feel a tingle of endearment for his slightly soured mood from being interrupted.

As the night progresses, Jake's alcohol-infused attempt at camaraderie with you grows increasingly unwelcome. He’d been watching you like a hawk so far, cutting in whenever Javier left to grab more drinks or when another coworker pulled his attention away to try to pick his brain about all that’s happening in the government right now. Inching closer to you, Jake leans against the hightop table, making conversation with slurred words and uninhibited want behind his eyes.

When you shift slightly away, attempting to remain civil enough at a work event, you feel yourself bump into Javier.

At that moment, Javier turns to see if you tapped him to grab his attention, but is met with the clear look of discomfort on your face. Jake leaning in closer, eyes wandering as you responded in the conversation, clearly attempting to check you out. Frustration toward the man in front of you lit in his chest, holding himself back from confronting him and instead fully embracing his purpose for the night. If he was invited as your date, he could act like it, right?

His arm wraps around you possessively, his lips pressing kisses on your temple, and whispered words meant to keep you close. Surprised at first, but happy to feel closer to him and to relish in the protective boyfriend persona, even if it is only to keep a creep away from you.

Jake, seemingly oblivious to the change in dynamics, spoke up louder, laying a hand on your arm and squeezing, “So you ever wanna cut out of work early and get a drink? Maybe end up back at my place? You can wear that dress.”

The proposition sends a ripple of discomfort through the air. Other coworkers turn away, ignoring the advance that left you shocked and speechless. But, Javier, now fully immersed in his role, takes a stern tone, cutting in and gently maneuvering you behind him.

“Hey, cabrón, why don’t you apologize for speaking to her like that?” Javier instructs, nodding to you while your hands wrap around his arm closest to you. “Or am I going to have to find one of your supervisors and tell them all this shit myself? Don’t speak to her again, or even look at her. And I will know if you do — I’ve got eyes everywhere, buddy.”

The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh softly from behind Javier, shaking your head as he backs away and leaves with his tail between his legs. Javier turns to you, wrapping you up in one of his arms and brushing his fingers softly against your cheek.

Concern softens his eyes, the same look that he greeted you with when he found you waiting in the cold, “You alright, cariño? Fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, should report him or something.”

“I’m alright, Javi. Thank you…You didn’t have to—”

Javier shakes his head, smiling with one side of his mouth and kissing your forehead, “‘Course I did. Can’t let anyone talk to you like that.”

You lean into his chest and smile, lightening the mood with a playful comment, “Seemed pretty comfortable being threatening. Did it bring you back to the good ol’ days being a sheriff?”

Ever the master of evasion, Javier shrugs it off with a casual demeanor, attempting to maintain the façade of indifference with a nod, “Sure did. But they weren’t the good ol’ days.”

Hearing the smile in his voice causes a wave of affection for him that washes over you, coming to the realization that it’s either now or never. A surge of courage propels you to take the leap, confessing the fact that you see more with Javier, that you want more with him.

“I know we said no strings, and it was like that at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve found that I love you. And you can absolutely walk away and nothing will be held against you, but I can’t keep up with this if I can’t tell you how I feel.”

The atmosphere between you shifts, and for a moment, the world seems to stop entirely.

Javier's eyes softened, and with a sincerity that catches you off guard, he shares a confession too, “Querida, I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. The second I kissed you for the first time was when I realized it. I thought maybe I could keep it all in, ‘cause I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and just as a part of my life, but I love you, cariño. Have since I heard that laugh of yours and saw that gorgeous smile. And I haven’t felt the same way I feel about you for anyone else before.”

In that moment of vulnerability, the boundaries that confined your actions shatter, opening up a door, wide and clear, for you to walk through and never close.

Away from the crowded party, you find yourselves standing in a doorway adorned with sprigs of mistletoe, a symbol of serendipity. Under the soft glow of the festive lights, Javier takes a step closer, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hand caresses your cheek, one arm wrapping around your waist while yours rest around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

As you break apart, Javier looks into your eyes, a sincerity shining through that mirrored the twinkle of holiday lights.

"I love you," he confesses, the words hanging in the air like the melody of a cherished carol.

“I love you, too,” you return, a glowing smile and feeling giddy for the rest of the holiday season with Javier.

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #writing #javier #javier peña fic #javier peña x you #javier peña fanfic #javier peña #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fanfic

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urrockstar-xe · 4 months

Text

winter formal - p.parker x fem!reader

aka a starstruck christmas

posted jan 2nd, 2024 8:55pm

this is specifically for @heywardsarchive who said i should make a part 2 so thank u pals :D

this is also fairly late, happy new year, thanks for being here.

summary; although reader misses hanging around her special spider friend, her crush on a certain peter parker boy has her distracted use of Y/n

starstruck does not need to be read first to enjoy this!

starstruck

masterlist

wordcount: 2.1

It had been a few weeks since you had seen that familiar spider up close, nothing more than him swinging from afar, not that you should’ve been complaining. All of your time was being taken up by studying and then getting tutored by that Midtown High kid, Peter Parker. He was a lot cooler than you had expected but the fact all you did when hanging out was math really tainted the image of him in your head.

no matter how pretty he was.

Although with the holidays, more crime typically followed Santa around the globe so you weren’t exactly surprised how Spidey was extra busy this time of year.

Yet you still sighed in disappointment when you got home and once again met a note on your windowsill.

”Hey, pretty lady, stopped by but you weren’t in :( can’t wait til you’re done with your tutoring sessions”

The note was short but still, it brought a stupid little smile to your face, pulling out the notebook from your backpack, you wrote a note of your own.

”miss you spidey”

you set it on the outside of your window, setting a small rock from your desk on top so that it wouldn’t run away in the wind before quickly shutting your bedroom window and shivering from the cold.

“Maybe I should get a onesie”

“Y/n? You still with me?” Peter asked, grabbing your attention away from the window of the coffee shop you sat in. “Yeah, sorry, Peter” You give a quiet laugh, looking back at the window for a second, just checking to see if he’s out there before turning back to Peter, who was looking at you with a soft smirk.

“What, why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, earning a laugh from the boy as he set his pen down.

“When did I lose you?” He asked, ignoring your question. “I don’t know,” You shrugged, honestly.

Peter shook his head, his smile unmoving as he closed the book in front of him. He leaned back into the leather of the booth, turning his gaze to your face. “Can’t get you focused at all lately” He joked, but not really. “I’m sorry” You gave him a half smile, hoping it would help your apology come off as genuine, just earning another laugh from the boy as he took his glasses off.

God, he’s so hot. dude don’t think like that he’s right there

oh god what if he’s a mind read-

“Y/n? Again? C’mon, sweetheart” He chuckled, snapping you out of your thoughts. You laughed with him this time. “I’ve just got like no sleep lately,” You explained, ignoring the way your heart sped up at the pet name and earning a sympathetic smile and nod from Peter. “Is there a reason why?” He asked, leaning forward just slightly as if you were sharing secrets.

“It feels like waiting for a phone call every night” You shrugged, not missing how Peter’s face fell at your words.

“Oh, boy trouble?” He asked, quieter this time. “something like that” he just hummed in response, not wanting to press any further.

“Well, if you need a distraction, there’s this school thing-“ “Oh you mean at Nerdtown High?” You cut him off with a tease, laughing at how Peter scoffed and couldn’t help his smile. “Yeah, it’s like a winter formal dance thing, I’m in charge of takin’ pictures and stuff, could use some company” He shrugged, not wanting to just outwardly ask you.

“And I have a special invite from the photographer himself?” You feigned a flattered face, dramatically putting your hand over your heart.

“Yes,” he laughed, “if you want to come, that is.” He shrugs, smiling at you. You mimicked his actions from earlier, leaning forward into the end of the table, still far enough to not feel his breath but close enough to make Peter slightly tilt his head as if unsure of what you were doing.

Okay, so maybe how pretty he was did make a difference

“So, what are we wearing?” You asked, smiling.

The last-minute invite limited your options but luckily you managed to dig up something from your closet and accessorize enough to feel good about how you looked. While you were putting your earrings in, a knock hit your window, interrupting your giddy feelings about going to a school dance with Peter.

Your head whipped around when there was a second knock, knowing now who it was as you got up and quickly opened the window, laughing at how Spidey dramatically fell into your room, completely on purpose.

“hi” You smiled, putting on your jacket to shield yourself from the cold. “hey, pretty lady” Spider-man’s voice was distorted, muffled almost but also sounded like he was purposely making his voice quieter and deeper. “Why do you sound like that?” You laughed as you asked the question.

“Got a cold” he shrugged, before looking you up and down. “You look nice” Spiderman nodded, as if in approval but also as if he had to shut up before saying more.

“Thanks, don’t stare too much though, I’ve got a date!” You teased, smiling excitedly as you sat back down and focused on the red color lining your lips before blending it with your fingertip.

“A date huh?” He asked, not even trying to hide his shock at this point. You sigh, dramatically looking back at Spiderman, earning a chuckle at your theatrics. “Well, I think it’s a date, but if you ask questions, it sucks the fun out of it.” He nodded as if he understood your explanation.

He didn’t.

“You remember that tutor I mentioned?”

Spidey hummed in response, making himself comfortable on your old bean bag chair, watching you finish getting ready.

“It’s with him” You spoke with a giddy light to your voice as you applied lip oil over the red on your lips.

The silence from the usually obnoxious talkative spider caught your attention.

And while you didn’t know why, it was because he was internally panicking.

“Thought he was like a total nerd” He laughed awkwardly, worried he’d blow his cover.

“Oh, he totally is,” You chose to ignore the scoff from Spidey as you continued speaking. “But, he’s also like charming and funny, and he’s so fuckin cute, he calls me sweetheart and like how he rambles apologies whenever he’s late and he always insists on walking me home even though I'm way out of his way for his own walk. Oh my gosh and the other day he hugged me which reminded me so much of that scene at the end of Tangled, like he just hugged all of me, does that make sense? Like he needed to be as close as possible, Ugh”

As you rambled on about your almost embarrassing crush on Peter, all he could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, he had spent weeks as Spiderman, coming to your rescue for mundane tasks, going as far as leaving notes when he wanted to see you but couldn’t.

Here he was thinking Peter Parker was ruining his plans as your math tutor, meanwhile, He was the one you couldn’t stop rambling about.

Not Spiderman

But Peter.

He was freaking the fuck out.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” You asked, cutting off Peter’s Spiderman’s thoughts as you urgently looked for your phone. “Spidey, you know I love you, babe, but he’s gonna be here like any second.” You offered an apologetic smile as Spiderman waved it off, a way to say It’s all good,

“Hey, have fun tonight, pretty lady!” He said, clearing his throat as if he was trying not to cough, and before you had a chance to respond, Spiderman was gone.

“Did I mention how pretty you look?” Peter asked as he snapped another picture of you, complimenting you for the 5th, no 6th time tonight.

not that you’d been counting

You smiled, shaking your head. “No, I don’t think you have” You teased, earning that laugh that felt so painfully familiar in return.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” Peter started, still unsure about your previous conversation with Spiderman, even if you laid out all he’d need to know.

The christmas lights and hanging snowflakes around the room suddenly became incredibly interesting to you as you nodded, avoiding all hints of eye contact possible, and silently thanking anyone who was listening in prayer as instead of looking at you, he started photographing other students and teachers dancing around the room to the Christmas music playing.

Peter bit the inside of his cheek as he thought out his next few words, trying to not talk himself out of it. Distracting himself by taking photos of his classmates, he finally spoke.

“Do you prefer Pepsi or Coke?”

coward

You laughed at the question, so it must’ve counted for something, right?

Or that’s at least what he had hoped as he smiled and listened to your unnecessary rant of an answer.

You shoved your hands into the pockets of Peter’s jacket that you were currently wearing at his insistence, of course, not being able to help yourself as you did a quick scan of the sky as Peter walked you home.

He didn’t need instructions on how to get there anymore.

“Lookin' for something?” He asked, nudging you lightly.

Why did he always notice you looking for Spiderman?

“Someone, actually” You smiled at him, turning your gaze to your shoes, counting the cracks under your feet.

“Oh,” play it cool, Peter. “Spiderman?” Was that too obvious?

You shrugged, looking at Peter with your head tilted.

“Didn’t know you were a fan” He continued, his turn now to count the cracks.

“Yeah, something like that” you chuckled to yourself, shaking your head before looking at Peter, watching as he smiled softly at the concrete beneath his feet.

“I had a really great time tonight, Peter” You sighed, nudging him slightly once your apartment complex came into view, even if you still had 3 more minutes of walking.

You really enjoyed your walks home with Peter. Of course, you counted how long the walks were.

“Me too” he nudged back, stopping for a moment and getting your attention by the feeling of his scarf getting tossed around your shoulders, you stopped walking now, allowing him to properly adjust the soft fabric around your neck making it two items of his you were now wearing.

“Can’t have you catching a cold for the holidays” Peter whispered, soft eyes moving to look into yours upon realizing how close you were. “Course not” you agreed in the same tone.

The moment lasted for however much time wasn’t enough, ending with the sound of police sirens, you both turned at the sound, watching as 2, 3, 4 cop cars rushed past you both.

“Think I know where Spidey’s been” You mumble to yourself, though not missing the quiet laugh from Peter as he threw his arm around your shoulder, urging you to keep walking, seeming to be sort of rushing now.

You didn’t question it, it was getting late and you knew he didn’t like leaving May alone too late into the night, it makes her worry would be all he told you anyway, so why pry?

You also had quickly decided to try and forget about the ruined moment, content in feeling as he wrapped his arms around your waist, forcing your arms around his neck in the hug you had loved so much and a quiet “I’ll see you in two weeks” mumbled into the shoulder of his your jacket.

Shit, winter break, you almost forgot about that

“Merry Christmas, Peter” You mumbled back, holding your breath as he pulled away and not letting it go til after you opened the door to the lobby.

“Hey,” his voice made you turn around, tilting your head like a silent question mark.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart”

The words replay in your head even still as you lie in your bed, waiting for your dreams to overtake you. How he looked at you and how he spoke the words so softly, despite having heard him call you Sweetheart a dozen times by now, you couldn’t get over it.

That seemed to mix with the anxiety you were feeling about whatever was going on with those policemen tonight, why was he not following? Was he already there? Is it about what’s had him so occupied the last few weeks?

The unanswered questions of worry and giddy feelings of adoration put you in a seemingly never-ending loop of anxiety that you were completely unable to come out no matter how hard-

Thump thump thump

You sat up, almost giving yourself whiplash with how you turned to look at your window.

Thump thump

They were weaker that time, uh oh.

#tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter x reader #tasm peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #the amazing spiderman x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines

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jesterwriting · 3 months

Text

pairings: trafalgar law x reader

contents: smut, fluff, soft!law, sleepy sex, use of “good girl”

word count: 1.2k words

note: HI THIS IS MY SECRET SANTA GIFT TO MANDIE!! i hope you enjoy it, i wanted to give you soft law moments so here you go. [dribbles this like a basketball and tosses it at you] merry late christmas @mandiemegatron ily and i hope youre doing well >:3

You were warm. From your head to the tips of your toes, you were warm. Law mumbled in his sleep, one hand on the back of your head drawing you closer to his chest where you could feel the rhythm of his heart. You hummed softly, and brushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead. For once, he looked at peace, his expression slack and no longer hard or drawn in concentration.

Like a cat, he snuggled his face closer to your palm. You chuckled, allowing yourself to cup the side of his face and brush your thumb against his stubble. With a small sigh, his eyelids fluttered open.

“Did I wake you?” You asked.

Law hummed, the corners of his lips twitching into a teasing smirk. “You may have.” He placed a gentle kiss on your wrist, right over your pulse. “What do you plan on doing to make it up to me?”

With a giggle, you pulled his face, and his smirk, closer. “What do you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment, exaggerating the gesture with an upward roll of his eyes. You watched the show with your own smile growing by the second. It was the moments like these that you loved, when Law could be playful and loving. It was a stark difference from his usually reserved demeanor, a Law that was only for your eyes to see.

“I can think of a few ways.”

You didn’t let him continue that train of thought. Unable to help it, with those gold, half-lidded eyes and teasing smirk, you pulled him into a kiss. Law’s lips melted against yours, moving in slow, languid motions betraying his sleepiness from earlier. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer to him, legs tangled together under the covers. Law’s fingers traveled from your cheek to get lost in your hair, and with a light tug, he stole a moan from you. Swallowing the sound, you felt his lips twitch upward. He was proud of himself. It made your heart thunder in anticipation, knowing full well the direction the night was about to take. What had started as innocent would soon turn into a delectable passion you could never deny.

As if on cue, Law flipped you into your back, his body hovering over yours. With great effort, he pried himself from your lips to gaze into your eyes, his own full of affection. “Ready?”

You smiled and gave him a quick peck. “Always, Law.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. He was so close, you could feel the vibrations echo through your bones. Those long tattooed fingers that you couldn’t help but admire prodded at your mouth.

“Open.”

You obeyed happily. That earned you another pleased chuckle, a sound you would never grow tired of. Law slipped his digits past your lips into the warm cavern of your mouth. His skin tasted salty as you swirled your tongue around them, eliciting a low groan from your boyfriend.

“That’s it. That’s my good girl.”

You would respond if you weren’t currently preoccupied. With a ‘pop,’ Law removed his fingers from your mouth and trailed them down your exposed stomach, past your navel, and to your waistband. He toyed with the fabric before slipping them into your pants and between your folds, already wet from your earlier makeout session.

“Is kissing you really all it takes,” He asked rhetorically.

You were halfway through a fond roll of your eyes when his fingers slipped inside of you. Biting back a moan, your breath caught in your throat, and he laughed to himself as he drank in your expression. Law curled his fingers. He slowly pumped in and out of your pussy with a wet squelching nose. Fire ignited in your veins, scorching you from the inside out as he found that sweet spot deep inside of you. You let out a moan and pressed your lips to his. Tongue met tongue, Law’s grinding down on yours while he fingered you, hungry for more. When his thumb pressed against your clit, you couldn’t help but cry out.

Before you could fall over the edge, he pulled away. You whined and shifted your hips upwards, only to be met with a laugh. “Someone’s desperate. You can take it, can’t you?”

Desperate your ass. You could see Law’s need straining against his briefs, a wet stain of precum evident on the front of them. He was the one whose will was breaking here, not you. If there was one thing you knew, it was that Law could make you fall apart on his fingers more times than you could count. Not this time though, he needed to feel you around him, tight and wet, pulling him deeper inside of you.

“You’re the one who's desperate,” You countered.

Law only huffed in response. You watched his thumbs hook around the waistband of his briefs. Normally, he would make a show out of shimmying out of them, make you watch the motion of his hips, fabric caught at the base of his dick, begging to spring free. Not this time, though. His underwear was around his ankles before you had time to blink, your own pants not far behind. You fought a pleased grin. Law was acting like a man starved. It made you feel warm that only you could get him in this state.

The head of his cock teased your entrance for only a moment before he was sliding inside of you with a moan. Feeling full, you grinned up at his expression, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration, lips parted ever so slightly as he bottomed out. You reached for him, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull his lips to yours. Law kissed you. Not a long drawn out one, but several small ones across every inch of your face. Love made your heart swell, and your stomach tightened with pleasure when Law began to thrust deeper into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” He muttered against the shell of your ear. “I can’t take much of this.”

His admission made your cunt pulse, drawing another moan from Law. His forehead met yours, golden eyes gazing into yours with so much love, it made you lightheaded. You moaned as Law’s hips snapped to meet yours, again and again, the rhythm growing more eager with each second that passed. You knew he was close when he got sloppy, and sloppy he became.

He gasped, stealing a kiss from you. “Are you close?”

You nodded and brought his hands up to your breasts. His thumb circled your hardened nipples as your spine tingled against his ministrations.

“Fuck, I can’t-” He slammed into you one final time, his cum painting your insides white. Through the haze of his pleasure, he rubbed your clit until your own irgasm hit you like a truck. You arched your back off the bed and dug your fingers into his back. Law crooned, “That’s it. Just like that.”

It was hard to catch your breath for a moment. You panted heavily, only stopping your heavy breathing to allow Law to pepper your face with kisses. First your jaw, then your cheeks, then the corners or your lips, before he cupped your face and pressed his lips to yours. You fondly smoothed back his hair.

“I love you.”

Law’s eyes softened as he smiled down at you. “I love you too.”

#one piece x reader #law x reader #.jesterwrites

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serosluv2 · 4 months

Note

obsessed bf x pretty gf trope hcs w sero & shoto pls & ty 😁😁 (seperately pls)

It’s only 7 months late but here u go anon 😘

a/n: I wrote this in an hour in the bathtub so if it is shit- don’t tell me bc I’m just getting back into writing 😭😭

Shoto Todoroki

He fits this trope so well.

He is THEE resident pretty boy of UA so it makes perfect sense that he has the prettiest girl in all of Japan. (The world)

He is the teeny weeny ist bit dense on like how to take proper photos of you for the ‘gram but trust that he WILL be searching up everything about lighting and angles and exposure and zoom- all that nonsense.

If you’re a social media girly he may leave like one or two comments. He isn’t the best about being outwardly obsessed with you, he is all about those private small moments. Not being able to take his eyes off you anywhere. Always needing to be beside you. If he can’t be with you then trust he is texting you at every free moment and expects a response within 5 minutes.

He loves shopping with you and helping you pick out outfits or jewelry or how to style your makeup that day. He has no real opinion on what looks better tho he just loves seeing you get all prettied up. (Yk that tiktok where the girl is trying to decide on a dress color and her bf is just like “wtv u want mama u look breathtaking in both” ?That’s him.)

I feel like he doesn’t really buy you anything in the beginning of your relationship bc he doesn’t really see the point/value or something in that BUT all it takes is for kaminari to get you some product you’ve been wanting for a while for secret santa and seeing how touched you were by the gesture sends him into over drive:

“OH MY GOD! KAMI!!” You exclaim- wrapping your arms around him. “How did you know? I’ve been looking for this everywhere!” Shoto notices how big your eyes got and the slight blush on your cheeks from excitement and he feels, something unpleasant. Jealousy? Envy? Possessiveness? Whatever it is he doesn’t like how grateful you’re acting toward the blonde. I mean sure, he got you something nice you’ve wanted but that’s not his job (he just so happened to get you for secret santa so he kind of had to get you something) he’s not your boyfriend only your boyfriend- HIM- should be gifting you stuff. Then he kinda has a “ohh.” Moment and realizes he has never really gotten you anything just because.

Anyways after that whole interaction he is getting you anything and everything you look at for more than a second. You keep looking at some necklace at the store? Bought. He sees you liking tiktoks about girls getting flowers? Now you’re getting a bouquet every date night. Does he himself have money? No, but that No.1 hero daddy sure does. And let’s be honest he kind of owes shoto for making his childhood - for lack of a better word- awful.

In conclusion, Shoto loves his pretty girl and will do anything she asks of him without question.

Hanta Sero

Clawing at my cage for this man.

Now sero has been… infatuated with you since he first laid eyes on you one faithful morning. You were ordering at some coffee shop he passes by on his way to school and just one glance had him stopped dead in his tracks. The way your hair framed your face perfectly, your face in general because holy shit- you were gorgeous. Straight out of a magazine. He quickly took notice of the little embellishments you made to your uniform.. uniform? The same one Mina has. OH MY GOD YOU GO TO UA AND HE HAS NEVER SEEN YOU BEFORE?

He literally cannot stop thinking about you and boom you appear again in the halls. Your going the opposite direction has him with your friends and he sees you all have a little cafe cup. Did you buy them all a drink before class? So you’re stupidly gorgeous and nice. Great, he, for sure, has no chance with you now.

But oh that’s where he is wrong.

When you guys start dating he actually cannot believe it. He is very guarded at first because- now it’s my personal hc that sero is a bit insecure- he can’t fathom how you, YOU, would actually want to date someone like…him.

But once those walls come down he doesn’t shut up about you. Seriously all his friends are so annoyed:

“Good god soy sauce if you mention your little girly friend again I’m hurling you across the city.”

“You’re just mad you don’t have a girl as pretty as mine- don’t worry baku-man, I’m sure one day some poor person will take pity on your soul.”

Sero did in fact get hurled across the city that day.

Now where he differs from Shoto is that this man is a GOD with a camera. He has that artistic eye and is able to capture you being your baddest/cutest/authentic self.

Literally ya’ll

He also has a good sense of style. He never thinks you look bad in one thing versus another but he will take into account the vibe of where you’re going and what’s you’ll be doing and give his opinion based on that. Because he grew up with sister and knows how to get around the “which one looks better?” Type question without hurting you.

Now sero doesn’t have money to spoil you senseless but what he does have is the forever lasting instinct to put your comfort above his own. It’s freezing and you didn’t wear a jacket because “a hoe ever gets cold”? Don’t worry sero will give you his and be visibly growing icicles on his body to keep you warm. Feet hurt from those impractical shoes? He’s caring you all the way home even if he is still terribly sore from a killer arm workout the day before with kirishima. A no a mudy puddle and you’re wearing your new white shoes :(! Well sero is laying his jacket down over it or simply caring you over the puddle. He isn’t the type to roll his eyes at how “ridiculous” or “spoiled” you’re being. You are y/n freaking l/n. He’ll do whatever you need to make sure nothing in your life goes wrong.

He also is the type to spam comments in your TikTok or Insta post and makes all his friends do the same. Not that you need it- he just loves fueling your ego.

#woohoo first day back after my 6 month leave #not that any of yall care #also I started watching jjk (yeah in late I know)#sero x reader #sero hanta #mha headcanons #hanta sero #hanta sero x reader #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto torodoki

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photmath · 4 months

Text

Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader

Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent

Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!

As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.

“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.

“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.

“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”

You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”

Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.

Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.

It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.

It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.

“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.

You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”

“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.

Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”

“You aren’t gonna stay?”

“What do you mean?”

“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”

“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”

You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”

He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”

“We saw each other last month.”

“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.

He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”

“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.

You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.

“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.

Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—

“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.

Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”

“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”

“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”

Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.

You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.

“Who do you have?” he asks.

“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”

He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.

“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.

Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.

“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.

It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.

Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.

Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.

Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!

Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.

You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.

“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.

“Can we talk?”

“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.

“We’re good…right?”

His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”

“I can’t just rest my arm?”

Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.

“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.

“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”

“Trent—”

“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”

“What?” you exasperate.

He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”

Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.

Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.

But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.

“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”

The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.

“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”

And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.

“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.

“Trent,” you squeal.

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”

“I missed them too.”

There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.

His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.

You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”

“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.

You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.

In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.

As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.

“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.

“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”

“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”

“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Trent.”

It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.

His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.

Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.

His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”

“You hurt,” you whisper.

“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”

“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.

“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.

You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”

Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”

“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.

He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.

And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.

“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”

Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”

What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.

“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.

Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”

You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”

An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”

“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”

Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”

He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.

You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”

Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”

“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.

His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.

“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.

Jesus.

You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.

He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.

“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.

You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.

With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.

Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.

His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.

Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.

“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.

Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.

His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.

He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”

“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.

He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”

“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”

He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”

“I helped you, didn’t I?”

He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”

“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”

He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.

Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.

Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.

Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”

Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.

“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”

“What?” Trent feigns.

“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.

Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”

The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.

Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.

One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.

Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.

You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.

Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.

You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.

“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.

You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”

For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.

Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.

“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.

Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”

You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”

He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.

----

Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold x reader #trent alexander arnold fanfic #trent alexander arnold imagine #em.writes

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noisynaia · 4 months

Text

𝑀𝑈𝐹𝐹𝐼𝑁𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝐴𝑀

Written for the lovely @pedrostories Secret Santa event 2023

My dear giftee is @katiexpunk, hope you like it! 💕

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

summury: You moved into your new house six months ago, and you love your new home. It is spacious and has a lovely little garden, and it also just so happens to include the hottest single dad with the sweetest little girl you’ve ever met as your new neighbors. Over the months you have gotten to know them more and more. Little Sarah has fallen head over heels for your labradoodle Sofie and often comes over to play with her in your garden, and as you have gotten to know him more and more, you have fallen head over heels for her father, Joel.

note: Pre/no outbreak. Next door neighbors. Fluff. Baking. This is the first fic i've written in seven months, so sorry for being super duper rusty. English isn't my native language. This was supposed to be something completely different, but my laptop broke, (the 'screen part' literally just fell off?!) so I didn't have near as much time for this as I would have preferred, so sorry if this seemed rushed (it sadly was). But nonetheless, happy holidays ya'll! I'm so happy to be back, and aiming to write much more again in the new year ♥︎

Joel stands in the kitchen, staring hopelessly at the empty sugar canister while cursing under his breath, feeling the dull pressure behind his eyes and nasal cavity which usually indicates an incoming tension headache. He had been sure that it was full, but no, it’s as empty as his hope for successfully making these damn muffins. The curse words escape his lips like a symphony of frustration, echoing off the empty walls of the kitchen. Joel can feel the frustration sinking into his bones.

He had promised Sarah that he would bake muffins for her school function, despite not being a very good nor patient baker. But he would do anything to make his little girl happy. He had thought that they could bake them together, that it would be a fun father-daughter activity, but work and chores and Sarah’s soccer practice and honestly just life in general had gotten in the way of those plans.

So now he stands here, the night before Sarah needs the muffins, without one of the most essential ingredients. It’s late, way past Sarah’s bedtime, who is sleeping soundly in her room. Joel would have to wake her up and take her with him if he’s going out to buy more sugar. But he really doesn’t want to wake her, she needs her sleep, but there is also no way in hell he’s leaving her alone while he runs to the store even if she’s just sleeping.

As he stands here contemplating his options, you appear in his mind. You do that frighteningly often these days, and deep down he knows exactly why, but he has to suppress it. He is too busy, and too grown, to go around getting crushes on pretty women with cute dogs who move into houses next door to him, and who is always so sweet and funny, and who is so sweet and nice to his daughter, and…. No. He has to stop this. He shouldn’t think about you like this.

He is mature enough to admit to himself that he is attracted to you, very attracted to you, but admitting to the feelings he has caught is a whole other can of worms, which he is not going to even attempt to look into. He is a single dad to a six year old, focused on taking care of his daughter and providing for her needs.

But in this moment, as he stands in the kitchen with an empty sugar canister mocking him, he feels a tug in his heart, a desperate need for help. He reluctantly gives in to the idea that perhaps you might have some sugar to spare…

It would be nice to see you, but he also really doesn’t want to disturb you, and something about knocking at your door this late at night gives him a funny feeling in his stomach.

Joel shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he focuses on the task at hand. He glances at the clock on the wall, realizing that time is slipping away. With a sigh, he reluctantly decides that he has no choice but to go next door and ask you for some sugar.

As he walks across the lawn and up to your front door, Joel can feel his heart racing. Why does he feel so nervous about such a simple request? He hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether he should knock or just turn around and forget about the whole thing. But the thought of disappointing Sarah and ruining her school event pushes him forward. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, attempting to calm his racing thoughts.

Shortly after, the door swings open, and there you are, standing with a warm smile on your face. Your eyes light up as you see Joel, and Sofie, your adorable dog happily greets him as well. Joel can’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken even more at the sight of you.

“Hi,“ you smile at him. “What brings you here at this hour?” you ask curiously.

Joel awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his nerves getting the best of him. “I hate to bother you, but I’m in a bit of a jam. I promised Sarah I would bake muffins for a thing at her school tomorrow, but I ran out of sugar. Do you, by any chance, have some to spare?"

Your smile widens, and you tilt your head slightly. “Of course, I’d be happy to help you out. Come on in, I’ll grab it for you.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief as you invite him inside. He steps into your warm and inviting home, noticing the pleasant aroma from what he guess must be a scented candle or something of the sort. It feels comforting and familiar, contrasting with the chaos and frustration that he left behind in his own kitchen.

He follows you into your kitchen, taking in the sight of the cozy space. The countertops are clutter-free, and a few potted herbs sit on the windowsill, basking in the moonlight. It’s a stark contrast to his own kitchen, which is always a whirlwind of activity and unfinished tasks.

As you retrieve the sugar from your well-stocked pantry, Joel can’t help but admire the ease with which you move around the kitchen. Your familiarity with the tools and ingredients is evident, invoking a sense of calm in him. He wonders how you manage to maintain such a serene environment amidst the chaos of daily life.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Joel finally musters the courage to ask, “How do you do it? How do you manage to keep everything so neat?”

You pause for a moment, a kind smile on your face as you hand Joel the sugar. “Well, for starters, I don’t have a kid," you chuckle, “and I guess it’s just about priorities, and since I work from home, I find that having a clean and organized space helps me stay focused and reduces unnecessary stress.”

Joel nods at your answer. He can’t help but admire how put-together you seem, both in your home and in your life. It’s something he strives for but often falls short of, with the chaos that comes with being a single parent.

“You’re doing really well by the way,” you smile at him, interrupting his thoughts, as if you can sense his doubts. “Sarah is really lucky to have you.” Joel’s cheeks flush at your compliment, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. He never believed he was doing enough for Sarah, constantly doubting himself as a parent. But your words validate his efforts and provide a much-needed boost of confidence. “Thank you,” he says softly, a mixture of appreciation and relief lacing his voice. “I always worry that I’m not doing enough, that…” he pauses.

Your expression is filled with understanding. “I can’t talk from experience, but I know that parenting is never easy. But trust me, Joel, Sarah knows how much you love her and how much you’re doing for her. And I think you are doing a wonderful job,” Joel’s eyes meet yours, and he sees genuine sincerity reflected in them. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, the burden of his self-imposed expectations slowly dissipating. You speak with such warmth and wisdom, Joel’s heart swells with gratitude for your presence in his life. He never imagined that a simple request for sugar would lead to such a meaningful conversation.

“Thank you,” Joel says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

You smile warmly at him, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “Joel, you’re a great dad. Don’t ever doubt yourself.” As Joel thanks you once again, he can’t help but feel a warmth spreading throughout his heart. It’s a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time, and it fills him with a sense of hope and possibility. Before he leaves, Joel can’t help but ask, “Would you wanna come over for dinner sometime? I am a much better cook than baker and Sarah has begged me to have you and Sofie over and visit.”

You smile and nod, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “I would love that, Joel.”

Joel feels a surge of warmth, at your smile. Thanking you again he turns to leave, sugar in hand, he musters up the courage to say one last thing. “I’m happy that it was you who moved in next to us. It’s been nice getting to know you and having you around.”

You smile warmly, your eyes twinkling, and an almost bashful expression on your face which catches Joel a little off guard. “Likewise, Joel. I’m always here if you need anything, whether it’s sugar or just someone to talk to.” you add the last part with a teasing smile, but the sincerity in your words are clear.

“I really appreciate that,” Joel says, his voice filled with sincerity.

“And just so you know…” you give him a bashful smile.“That includes help with baking muffins.”

Joel feels how his stomach does a flip as he understands what you’re saying. “Would you like to help me bake some muffins?”

“I’d love to,” you say happily, your smile growing and Joel can’t help but feel a sense of excitement through his body. “I’ll be over at yours in ten, how’d that sound?” you ask.

Joel’s heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with you. “Sounds good to me.”

“Cool, see you in ten then.” You grin at him. Joel smiles back at you, feeling a sense of anticipation building within him.

As Joel heads back to his house, sugar in hand he can’t help but smile, he had been so tired and frustrated only a little while ago, but now he suddenly feels fully recharged.

____

Ten minutes… You have ten minutes to make yourself look somewhat decent, in a casual, ‘I’m just going over to my extremely attractive dilf neighbor whom I have a big fat stupid crush on’ way. No pressure at all.

As you race to your bathroom to check yourself over in the mirror, you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. You touch up your makeup, adding a touch of lip gloss and swipe on a new coat of mascara, you brush your teeth, and spritz on a little perfume. After making sure you look presentable, you opt for a comfortable yet cute outfit, realizing that you don’t want to come off as too overdone.

Satisfied with your appearance, you grab a small container of homemade blueberry jam from your fridge. It may not be muffins, but it’s a sweet treat that you can bring to share. With jam in hand, you head out the door, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

As you approach Joel’s house, you can’t help but appreciate the calmness of the night. The moon shines brightly above, casting a soft glow on the neighborhood. You hear the faint sound of crickets chirping, and the warm breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers. Everything feels serene and magical, heightening your excitement.

You reach Joel’s doorstep and take a moment to collect yourself. You remind yourself to be casual and relaxed, even though your heart is pounding in your chest. With a steadying breath, you knock on the door.

Joel opens it with a warm smile, and you instantly feel at ease. His eyes light up as they land on you, and you can't help but blush under his gaze. “Hi,” he greets you softly. “I'm so glad you could make it.”

You return his smile, extending the container of blueberry jam towards him. “I brought some homemade jam. I thought it would be nice with the muffins and I remember Sarah telling me she loves blueberries.”

Joel's eyes widen in pleasant surprise, and his smile widens. “That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you, darlin’.”

‘Darlin’...’ Your heart flutters at the endearment as you step inside his house, the word falling so naturally from his lips. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the scent of warmth and comfort. It’s a homey and cozy feeling that instantly puts you at ease.

As you enter the kitchen, you notice the ingredients for the muffins laid out, ready to be used. There’s a twinkle of anticipation in Joel’s eyes as he gestures towards them. “Do you want to get started?”

You nod eagerly, not wanting to waste any more time. “Definitely. Let’s make these muffins amazing.”

For the next few hours, you and Joel work side by side, measuring ingredients, mixing, and chatting as you go. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, ranging from lighthearted jokes to more personal stories, and the atmosphere somehow turns more and more flirty, making excited butterflies flutter in your stomach. With each moment, you can feel the connection between you deepening, like ingredients coming together to create a perfect blend.

As the muffins bake in the oven, filling the kitchen with their delicious scent, the two of you take a well-deserved break. Joel pours two cups of coffee, and you find yourselves sitting at his kitchen table, sipping the warm brew in comfortable silence.

The soft glow of the overhead light casts a warm and cozy ambiance over the room. Despite the tiredness in his eyes from a long day, a smile tugs at the corners of Joel’s lips as he watches you take a sip of your coffee. There’s a comfortable silence that envelops the two of you, a sense of ease and contentment that comes from being in each other’s company.

As you set your cup down, you turn to Joel, your eyes filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “You know, Joel, I have to say. These muffins wouldn’t have turned out as amazing as they did without your expert baking skills.” A teasing smirk dances on your lips.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I may have had a little help from a certain someone,” he says, a hint of affection lacing his voice.

You playfully nudge him with your shoulder. “Oh, so now I’m just your personal baking assistant, am I?” you retort, pretending to be slightly offended.

Joel’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with humor. “No, no, not at all. You’re so much more than that,” he reassures you, his voice brimming with sincerity. “You’ve brought light into my life, darlin’. Ever since you moved in next door, things just feel...better.”

The warmth in Joel’s words seeps into your heart, igniting a deep stirring within you. A connection that goes beyond the simple act of baking muffins is forming between the two of you, growing stronger with each passing moment.

Before you know it, the timer for the muffins goes off, snapping both of you out of the gentle bubble you’ve created. You share a laugh, realizing that you may have gotten carried away in the moment.

Joel stands up and walks over to the oven, his movements fluid and confident. He takes a deep breath, a look of anticipation on his face. “Well, here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he opens the oven door and retrieves the tray of freshly baked muffins.

The delightful aroma wafts through the kitchen, filling the air with its tantalizing scent. Joel carefully sets the tray down on the counter, the muffins still warm to the touch. He reaches for a plate and begins arranging the muffins, creating a beautiful display.

You watch him with admiration, seeing the dedication and love he pours into everything he does. In that moment, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of affection towards him.

As you join him by the counter, your hands instinctively reach out to brush against each other, sending a spark of electricity up your arms. Your eyes meet, and in that instant, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, connected in a way that feels destined.

Joel's gaze is warm as he gazes at you, and his voice is filled with sincerity as he speaks. "I just want you to know how grateful I am for your help, for everything. You've brought so much happiness into our lives."

You smile softly at him, feeling your heart swell with affection. “The feeling is mutual, Joel.”

Joel takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering and filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. You can’t help but notice how his gaze keeps darting from your eyes to your lips, and you feel your own heartbeat quickens in response, but a sudden surge of bravery fills you as well. You can’t just be imagining this. “You can if you want, you know.” you whisper.

You can almost see how Joel’s breath catches in his throat by your words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He searches your face, trying to comprehend your words. “If I want...what?” he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and hope.

A soft smile graces your lips as you reach out to gently take his hand in yours. “You can kiss me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “If you want.”

“I want to, more than anything.” He brings his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with tender affection.

With bated breath, the world seems to stand still as your faces draw closer together. The anticipation hangs in the air like an electric current, and as your lips finally meet, it feels like a rush of warmth cascading throughout your bodies.

The kiss is soft, tender, and filled with an underlying passion that has been building between you. It's a culmination of longing, uncertainty, and hope, all coming together in that single moment of connection.

As your lips move against each other, the outside world fades away, and all that matters is the tenderness you share. Time seems to stretch, allowing you to savor each second of this newfound intimacy.

When you finally break apart, breathing slightly heavier, Joel's eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and confirmation. "Was that okay?" he asks, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile warmly at him, a sparkle in your eyes. “More than okay,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. “It was everything I hoped it would be.”

A wave of relief washes over Joel as he pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms enveloping you in a sense of security. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he whispers, “I'm glad, because I've been wanting to do that for a long time.”

And in that moment, as you stand in Joel's warm embrace, you realize that sometimes the sweetest moments in life come unexpectedly. As you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, you can't help but be grateful for the empty sugar canister and the twist of fate that brought you together. Love has a funny way of sneaking up on people, and you can’t wait to see where this new chapter with Joel and Sarah takes you. With muffins in the oven and love blossoming in your hearts, this late-night adventure is just the beginning of a sweet, heartfelt journey together.

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