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witchywithwhiskey · 1 month ago

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first christmas with trucker ari levinson

pairing: dark trucker!ari levinson x female reader

summary: you ask ari if you can hang up some christmas decorations in his truck cab, and after his initial refusal, he starts to come around to the idea—and has some fun making you beg for it.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, slightly dry/painful sex, creampie, cock warming, bondage, choking, breathplay, dirty talk, degradation, some praise, daddy/dad kink, begging, pet names (sweetheart, baby, kiddo), some aftercare, a mean hot man

word count: 2.0k

a/n: based on this ask from @veltana: Are trucker Ari's and trucker Jake's readers gonna decorate the rigs for the holidays? since Ari's canonically jewish, i wanted to work that in while still showing what he's willing to do for his girl. (also apologies if there's any tense switching in this one, i'm not used to writing in present tense 😬)

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

Trucker Ari Levinson isn’t the type of man to decorate for the holidays. By the time Thanksgiving rolls around, you’re well aware of this fact about your trucker, but you think it would be nice to put up some decorations in the rig, just to make it feel a little bit festive.

When you broach the subject, the two of you have just set off on a six-week stint of driving, which means you’ll be on the road through the new year. Already, the vast, snow-covered plains of the midwest have you feeling melancholy, so you’re really hoping Ari says yes to some Christmas cheer.

However, your trucker shuts you down with a curt, grunted, “I’m Jewish.”

You try not to show your disappointment, but you haven’t quite gotten used to the way you can never hide anything from your deceptively observant trucker. So while you think you do a good job of playing it off like you don’t care that Ari doesn’t seem willing to let you decorate, he knows he’s struck a chord—and it doesn’t sit well with him.

At the next rest stop, Ari’s grabbing snacks while you’re in the bathroom and he catches sight of a small display of Christmas decorations. They’re all cheap and plastic and poor quality, but before he can stop himself, he’s swiping one of the bright red Santa hats and adding it to his haul.

Ari shakes his head to himself, wondering what his mother would think of him if she could see him buying a Santa hat when he hasn’t worn a yarmulke or stepped foot in a synagogue in over a decade. But then he pushes the thoughts aside, reminding himself that his mother was gone, she’d left him, and she had no fucking right to judge what he was doing.

You’re settled in the rig by the time he gets back, an e-reader in your lap, and already engrossed in some smutty Christmas romance when Ari hauls himself into the driver’s seat. You don’t look up until a bag of Christmas candy lands in your lap, and you’re so taken aback, you glance at your trucker in surprise.

It’s then that you see the Santa hat pulled down over Ari’s slightly greasy brown hair. In his dirty red flannel, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Ari looked like the hottest, filthiest Santa you’ve ever seen, and your core quivers with eagerness as you suck in an excited breath.

Ari’s staring at your mouth, his eyes dipping lower to the way your tits are trembling as your breathing speeds up. You’re wearing nothing but one of his flannel shirts, the buttons undone an almost indecent amount, and nothing underneath. (You’d worn leggings into the rest stop bathroom, but taken them off as soon as you got back in the truck—Ari doesn’t like you wearing too many clothes and, truthfully, you don’t either.)

“Why don’t you come sit on Santa’s lap, kiddo,” Ari rumbles, his voice low and smooth—the charming tone of the man who’d coaxed you into his truck that first day. His hand pats his thigh enticingly as he spreads his legs, the fingers of his other hand deftly undoing the button and fly of his jeans. “Tell daddy what you want for Christmas this year.”

Your pussy is already wet with desire, so you toss your e-reader onto the bunk in the back and quickly navigate the space between your seats so you can throw a leg over Ari’s thighs and slide into his lap. Your ass lands on his legs, your pussy already slick enough that you whimper with the need to be filled.

“Beg for this cock, sweetheart,” Ari rumbles, stroking his thick length, his knuckles brushing against your damp slit and making your hips buck forward, seeking more friction. “Beg me to use your cunny like my own personal cock sleeve.”

“Please, use my pussy, daddy,” you beg breathlessly, fingers twining around the hair at the nape of Ari’s neck, careful not to knock the Santa hat off his head. “Use me to keep your cock warm, please—I want nothing more than to be your perfect little cock slave.”

“Good cock whore,” Ari purrs, one of his big hands grabbing your ass and urging you to lift up. Then he was notching the head of his dick at your tight little hole and helping you sink down on him.

A lewd moan slips from your lips as you take Ari’s cock. Your pussy isn’t quite wet enough to take his thick girth, but you don’t care. You’d take Ari dry if that’s what he wanted, and you both know it.

There’s a delicious sting as your pussy protests the thick intrusion but you push past it, forcing your hips down until your ass meets Ari’s strong thighs. You sigh with contentment, swaying a little in Ari’s lap, your eyes half-lidded as you stare into your trucker’s ungodly handsome face.

For some reason, the Santa hat is really doing it for you, making Ari even hotter than normal and you think, dazedly, you might have a Santa kink—so long as Santa is your dirty, filthy trucker.

“Feels s’good, daddy,” you slur, pleasure making your tongue feel thick and clumsy in your mouth.

Ari chuckles and gives your hip an affectionate pat before he removes his hands from your body and starts up the truck, the engine growling to life.

He’s pulled his rig back onto the snowy midwestern roads before he reminds you about why you’re on his lap in the first place.

“I wanna decorate the cab for Christmas,” you murmur, laying your head against Ari’s shoulder and enjoying the feeling of the truck rumbling beneath you, the warmth of the rig surrounding you.

Your eyes slide closed and you relax against Ari’s chest, letting the soothing vibrations and the perfect feeling of being filled by his cock lull you. Your whispered plea is spoken into the hollow of Ari’s throat, right above where the star of David he always wears is nestled beneath his t-shirt.

“Please, dad.”

You feel your trucker’s cock twitch inside you, and a second later he lets out a tortured groan. It joins the soft moan you bury in the shoulder of his flannel shirt, your hips rocking lazily on Ari’s lap. Your juices are soaking his cock already, dripping down to his balls, and his cock is throbbing inside you, both of you equally turned on by what you’d called him.

“Fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth, though you know he’s not angry, just trying to hold back from coming inside you so soon. He always reacts that way when you call him ‘dad’ instead of ‘daddy’. “You can have one string of lights, baby, but I’m going to test ‘em out before we hang ‘em up.”

Sucking in a sharp breath of surprise, you lean back and look up at Ari to make sure he’s serious. You find his jaw clenched tight and ticking, but when his eyes meet yours, there’s a sparkle of something like affection in them. Before you can be sure, though, he looks back to the dark road.

“Thank you, Ari, thank you,” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing kisses to his scruffy cheeks and burying your face in his thick beard to nuzzle his jaw. Happily, you lick and kiss down his neck, sucking on the spot at the base of his throat that makes his cock throb inside you.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome,” he grumbles, one of his hands falling to the small of your back and urging you to settle. “Now be a good cock whore and sit still while you keep me warm, we’ve got another couple hours of driving before you can properly thank me.”

“Yes, sir, daddy,” you purr sweetly in Ari’s ear as you settle down on his lap. You lay your head on his shoulder and press your mouth to his neck, licking and sucking on his skin idly while you do your best to stay still and let him drive in peace.

When Ari finally pulls off for the night, you’re practically vibrating with a need to show him how happy he’s made you and as soon as he puts the rig in park, you’re riding his cock hard and fast.

Your hands are planted on his bare chest—since you made him strip out of his flannel shirt and t-shirt—and you lift your ass up before slamming it down hard, the tip of his cock pushing against your cervix with every thrust and making your cunt squeeze the life from his hard length.

Once he’s let you take control for long enough, Ari’s hand wraps around the front of your throat and he pins you back against the steering wheel, not caring that the horn blares while he fucks up into you ruthlessly.

All you can do is watch your trucker king, wearing a cheap rest stop Santa hat, fuck the hell out of you while your tits bounce and your mouth falls open in a moan.

Ari comes with a rough shout, yanking you down hard on his cock and making you grind your pussy on him, rubbing your clit against the coarse hair at the base. His hand squeezes your throat, choking you just hard enough to make your pussy spasm, and then you’re coming too, your scream of pleasure stifled by his grip on your neck.

After, Ari helps you into the bunk and tucks you into his big body beneath the blanket. He falls asleep wearing that Santa hat and some boxer briefs, while you’re naked in his arms. With your back to his chest, you can’t see the faint smile that curves his mouth as he drifts off.

When Ari finally buys you that string of lights he promised, you learn that the ‘test’ he wanted to do before you strung them up was to tie you up in them. He winds the cord around your calves, then your thighs, binding your legs together before he plugs them in to make sure they’re all working.

Ari takes a long moment to look at you like that, naked on the bunk in the back of his rig, save for the thick socks keeping your feet toasty, and the warm, golden lights of the Christmas decoration he bought for you.

It makes him want to buy you more, to see how you’d look laid out beneath a fully decked out Christmas tree while he fucked your pussy, or how you’d feel curled up in a blanket covered in reindeer while he held you on his lap, his cock buried in your ass. He wants to see you wearing a Santa hat that matched his own, sucking his cock on Christmas morning while he made you coffee.

Ari reminds himself that the two of you are spending Christmas in his rig that year, driving around the country until well into January. But he saves those ideas for another time, tucking them into a box in a corner deep in his mind reserved for all the softer, more domestic plans he has for you—the ones you’ve started to inspire in him despite the fact that he’s never thought of himself as a man with soft or domestic side.

To distract himself, Ari digs out the Santa hat he bought at that rest stop and puts it on your head, pulling it down over your ears and giving you a satisfied little grin. Then he folds your body in half, pushing your bound legs up to your chest and off to the side so he can watch your face contort in pleasure while he sinks his cock into you.

The string of lights are digging into your skin a little painfully and you’re bent in an almost uncomfortable position, but you can’t help but enjoy it when Ari plunges into your cunt and sets a fast, merciless pace.

You’d never expected a conversation about Christmas decorations to end up with you tied up in a string of lights, but then, nothing about your trucker was ever what you expected—and that was part of why you loved him so much. You couldn’t wait to spend that Christmas and many more with your trucker king, Ari Levinson.

trucker king masterlist & dirty filthy truckers universe masterlist

#ari levinson #ari levinson smut #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #trucker ari levinson #ari levinson drabble #ari levinson fic #ari levinson fanfic #ari levinson au #ari levinson imagine #trucker au #dark ari levinson #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut #chris evans characters #witchywithwhiskeywork #christmas fanfiction

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capquinn · 1 month ago

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thinking about Quinn and family doing a holiday movie night… matching pjs, Christmas movie the kids picked out, holiday treats. How excited the babies are for it and lowkey the parents too. Truly was one of my favorite memories as a kid and still kind of now at 22 tbh LOL and my mom just told me the other day it’s one of her favorite things we do every year for Christmas even though we’re all older

The living room is a picture-perfect holiday haven. The Christmas tree stands tall in the corner, its soft white lights twinkling slowly, casting a warm glow over the room. The ornaments glimmer softly, a mix of hand-me-downs, mismatched baubles, and Bug’s latest preschool crafts. Outside, frost clings to the windows, the kind of biting cold that makes you grateful for the cosy warmth inside.

Every Friday night is movie night but on the first Friday of December, it's the official kickoff of the family’s Christmas movie tradition — something that began long before the kids, back when it was just you and Quinn curled up on the couch together, sharing a bowl of popcorn and a blanket as the glow of twinkling lights painted the walls. It had been your little ritual, a moment of calm in the whirlwind of life, gearing up for the busy holiday season.

And then Bug came along, turning your quiet little ritual into something bigger, brighter. Suddenly, there were tiny hands tugging at blankets, excited chatter about which Christmas movie was “the best ever,” and bowls of gummy bears added to the lineup of holiday treats. It wasn’t just about the two of you anymore — it was about her wonder, her laughter, her joy becoming the heart of the tradition.

Now, Bug is old enough to pick the movies, Cub is here for his very first holiday season, and it feels even more magical this year. The kind of magic that makes the tradition feel brand new, like it’s grown right along with your family. What started as a small ritual between you and Quinn has blossomed into something so much bigger. Something that belongs to all of you, something that will grow with them, too.

Bug has been talking about this all week, her excitement bubbling over like a pot about to boil. After days of careful deliberation — during which Arthur Christmas had been a close contender — she’d finally settled on The Grinch, her nearly four-year-old self treating the responsibility of picking the perfect holiday movie with the gravity of a major life decision. Quinn, ever the doting dad, had already promised they’d watch her second choice next Friday, but for tonight, the Grinch’s antics reigned supreme.

“Daddy, hurry!” Bug calls from the couch, her voice high-pitched with impatience as she sprawls across the cushions. Her little legs, clad in Christmas tartan pyjamas, kick aimlessly in the air, her feet landing every so often on the spot where Quinn will inevitably sit.

“I’m coming, Bug,” Quinn calls back from the kitchen, his tone laced with mock exasperation.

He reappears moments later, balancing a tray stacked with steaming mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallows, a bowl of popcorn, Christmas cookies, and a small dish of Bug’s favourite red-and-green gummy bears. He’s wearing the matching pyjamas you picked out, a reluctant but ultimately endearing participant in your insistence that everyone match for the occasion. The flannel tartan pants, patterned in red and green, and the long-sleeved button-up shirt feel almost comically festive, but he wears them anyway, his protest never extending beyond a half-hearted sigh when you first handed them to him.

Bug’s face lights up at the sight of the snacks.

“That one’s mine!” she declares, pointing eagerly at the mug with the mountain of whipped cream.

“Of course it is,” Quinn replies, his tone warm and teasing as he sets the tray on the coffee table. He ruffles her hair playfully before finally sinking onto the couch beside you with a contented sigh.

Cubby, who had been nestled in your arms, immediately perks up at the sight of his dad. His little hands grab at the air, making soft, insistent noises until you lean forward and let him scramble across to Quinn. The eight-month-old settles happily against his chest, chubby cheeks squished against Quinn’s shoulder, one tiny hand clutching at the fabric of his dad’s shirt.

“Of course, straight to dad,” you murmur softly, your smile widening at the sight of Cub settling so perfectly against Quinn’s chest.

Quinn adjusts Cub carefully into a more comfortable position, his hand resting protectively on his tiny back as he presses a gentle kiss to his head.

��Well, can you blame him?” he teases, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eye. “I mean, look at me — prime cuddle material.”

“Okay, big guy,” you tease, rolling your eyes with a soft laugh as you lean into him, your head settling naturally on his free shoulder. Your hand drifts to Cub’s back, resting there gently, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over the soft fabric of his Christmas pyjamas.

Quinn adjusts instinctively, shifting slightly to tuck you closer against his side. His arm tightens around your shoulders, his hand curling lightly against your upper arm, fingers tracing soft, absent minded circles into your skin and you feel the warmth of his body, solid and steady, enveloping you in that quiet, unspoken comfort that only he can give.

Bug, sprawled at the other end of the sofa, suddenly starts to wiggle her way back toward the center of the action. She’s determined, her little feet finding their way onto Quinn’s lap as she nestles into the corner with all the authority of a tiny queen reclaiming her throne.

“Can we start the movie now?” she asks, her voice high-pitched with impatience but brimming with pure, uncontainable excitement.

Quinn glances down at her feet, then back at you with an exaggerated sigh. “Guess I’m a human footrest now,” he quips, his tone light and teasing, though the fondness in his eyes gives him away.

“You’re just so popular tonight,” you tease softly, your voice full of affection as you nuzzle closer against him, brushing your nose lightly against his neck. It’s playful, warm, the kind of moment that draws a quiet smile from him. He tilts his head against yours, letting the weight of it linger in the soft space between you.

Bug wiggles her toes pointedly against Quinn’s leg, her feet still sprawled across his lap. “Daddy, the movie,” she prompts, her voice a mix of impatience and innocence, entirely oblivious to the tender moment unfolding just above her.

Quinn huffs a soft laugh, shifting slightly to look at her, his hand giving her ankle an affectionate squeeze. “Alright, alright, hold your horses,” he says, his tone teasing but full of love. “You’ve been waiting all week for this, haven’t you?”

Bug’s grin is wide and triumphant.

“Yes!” she exclaims, leaning back dramatically as if she’s been terribly wronged by the wait.

“Then I guess we’d better get started,” you say, laughing quietly as you reach for the remote.

Bug's entire body leans forward as though that might make the movie start faster, her little fingers clutching the small bowl of gummy bears like a lifeline, her wide eyes glued to the screen as the opening credits roll.

“He’s so grumpy!” she giggles loudly as the Grinch makes his first appearance on screen, her hands clasped together like she’s witnessing the most thrilling moment of her life. She looks over at you, then Quinn, as though seeking confirmation. “Is he always like this?"

Quinn chuckles, adjusting Cub slightly in his arms as the baby nestles deeper against his chest. “Yeah, Bug. That’s kind of his thing,” he says with a grin, his voice warm and amused.

Bug doesn’t respond immediately, her wide eyes glued to the screen as though the Grinch himself might pop out of it. The bowl of gummy bears rests tightly in her grasp, her legs tucked underneath her. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree reflect in her curls, making her seem even more alight with energy.

And then, with all the flair of a dramatic revelation, she gasps. “But why does he hate Christmas?” she demands, sitting up just enough to point emphatically at the screen. “Did someone take his presents? Did his tree break? Did—”

“Bug,” you interrupt softly, a laugh escaping as you reach over to rake your fingers gently through her unruly curls, smoothing them back from her face. “Just watch the movie, sweetheart. You’ll see.”

She huffs, reluctantly sinking back against the sofa, her head finding its new resting spot in Quinn’s lap, her feet tucked up beneath her as her wide eyes stay glued to the screen. But her little mind is clearly still at work.

“He’s just so mad, though,” she mutters under her breath, her tone brimming with quiet exasperation, as though trying to reason through the Grinch’s grievances herself.

Quinn glances down at her, his free hand absently brushing along her arm. He casts you a look — one that’s equal parts amused and adoring, the kind of look that says, can you believe her? but also, I love her so much it’s ridiculous.

“She’s really into this,” he murmurs, his voice low so as not to disturb her moment of contemplation.

“She’s been waiting all week for it,” you remind him just as quietly, your fingers still threading gently through her hair. “I mean, who can blame her? It’s the first Christmas movie of the season.”

Bug wiggles slightly, making herself more comfortable as she pipes up again, unable to help herself.

“I think maybe he needs a hug,” she declares solemnly, her little voice so sincere it tugs at your heart.

Quinn bites back a grin, looking down at her. “You think that’s it?” he asks, humouring her, his voice warm and indulgent.

“Yeah,” Bug nods firmly, her eyes back on the screen. “A hug and some gummy bears. That makes me happy.”

Her words spark a quiet laugh from you, and Quinn shakes his head fondly.

“She’s got it all figured out,” he says softly, leaning back into the couch, his hand resuming its gentle patterns along Cub’s back.

Meanwhile, Cub doesn’t last long, and as the Grinch starts hatching his plans to steal Christmas, he is completely out, his little body molded perfectly against Quinn’s chest. His tiny hands clutch at his daddy's shirt with a grip so sure it tugs at your heart, as though even in sleep, he knows this is the safest place in the world. His chubby cheeks are squished against the soft fabric, his face utterly peaceful, serene in the way only a baby can be. His soft, rhythmic breathing the only sound competing with Bug’s constant chatter.

“Why is he taking their stockings? He can’t do that,” Bug whispers urgently, her big eyes darting between you and Quinn.

“Because he doesn’t like Christmas, remember?” Quinn replies, his voice low and patient, his hand lightly resting on her back now. “But maybe he’ll change his mind.”

And by the time the Grinch’s heart grows three sizes, Bug’s eyelids are drooping, though she fights to stay awake, her little fingers fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

“I knew he’d like Christmas,” she mumbles sleepily, her voice slurring just a little.

Quinn glances down at her, his eyes soft, his free hand brushing over her curls once before settling her head more comfortably against his lap. “Told you,” he murmurs, his voice low and fond.

You smile, leaning into his side, your fingers still raking through Bug’s hair.

“Merry Christmas, Hughes,” you whisper softly, and Quinn turns his head to press a kiss to your temple, the kind of moment that lingers, warm and unhurried.

“Merry Christmas,” he echoes quietly, voice full of love.

#bug is quinn's mini me through and through. just yapping away incessantly <3 #capquinn’s requests #capquinn's writing #dad!quinn #quinn hughes x reader #quinnmas

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unintentionalseductress · 2 months ago

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For thirsty weekend, Let’s make this a not-so-silent night w/ Kento Nanami, please!

First request of the holiday!

"Let’s make this a not-so-silent night"

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You're all warm and wrapped up in your husband's arms, lazing cozily in front the fireplace. The flames crackle merrily and fills the living room with a festive spirit.

The tree stood in a corner, glowing merrily with all it's ornaments, and underneath it, a plate of milk and cookies, placed there by your kids before you had ushered them to bed.

"How long should we wait before we eat them?" You ask Nanami who grins at you like a contented cat.

"I'd say midnight. Then we can sneak back upstairs to our bedroom." Kento nuzzles your ear and you chuckle softly, playing with the collar of his pajamas.

"Merry christmas my love." You kiss the tip of his nose, seeing the way his eyes gaze lovingly at you, the fiery orange of the flames reflected on his amber irises.

"Same to you." He squeezes you against him, then brushing his lips against your ear he says suggestively, "Let’s make this a not-so-silent night hmm?"

The seductive purr of his voice instantly perks your senses and you give him a knowing look. "I mean...We're here for a while. I suppose we'll need something to while away the time waiting for Santa, yes?"

The corners of his mouth quirk upwards and lower towards yours which you accept, lips pressing against his invitingly, parting them for the gentle invasion of his tongue. His large hands creep up your pajama top, squeezing the soft flesh while a groan escapes his throat.

He maneuvers you under him on the sofa, trailing small kisses along the side of your neck and jaw, sucking and nibbling the skin as he makes his way to your collarbone. His hands splay across your abdomen, fingers indenting the squishy area. You feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, and you reach a little lower to stroke the bulge with your palm, earning a noise of satisfaction from him.

He slips down your panties and flannel bottoms, pleased at how your thighs open automatically for him, admiring the sheen coating your swollen folds and the way your clit peeks out at the apex of your folds. He leans forward to give a teasing lick down the length of your slit before lapping at the wetness of your core, dragging the tip of his tongue upwards to the little nub. Your hips arch pleasantly under his work, enjoying the soft circles he draws over the delicate bundle of nerves, little noises of pleasure escaping you.

Kento suctions the small button between his lips, and stars form behind your closed lids as you writhe on the sofa, your orgasm drawing near. The little noises were now growing, turning into soft calls of need as he drove you closer to the edge.

"Kento...!" His name falls from your lips as you finally reach the peak of ecstasy, your core and clit fluttering in orgasmic ecstasy, flooding your senses. He licks you through the last of your tremors before slipping out of his underwear, his long, veiny cock pulsing with desire as he slips into your drenched folds.

Your legs raise to accomodate him, enjoying the stretch and the way he fills you so completely. Once seated completely inside you, you sets up in a comfortable rhythm, using long strokes to build you back up again.

"I believe I said 'a not so silent night', didn't I?" He angles his hips and you can't help but let out a wavering sigh. "Perhaps we need to work on the 'not so silent' part."

#thirst game #thirst prompt #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento fluff #nanami smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #ncs #ncs scribbles #thirsty weekend

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peachiejeongin · 1 month ago

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Crimson Christmas | Bang Chan

Day 8 of the 12 Days of Staymas!

Synopsis: It is time for the annual Stray Kids (plus one) gift exchange, and Bang Chan has an interesting gift up his sleeve for you.

Pairing: bf!Bang Chan x fem!gf!reader

Genre: Fluff, Crack, Suggestive

Warnings: Lingerie, allusions to sexual intercourse

Notice: Hello, darlings! Welcome to the eighth day of Staymas! This is the one and only truly "suggestive" fiction for this series, so....Merry Christmas, lol! Enjoy the reading, and check out the other stories if you would like to :)

The dorm was alive with festive energy, every corner glowing from the soft, golden twinkle of the Christmas lights. The scent of cinnamon candles mingled with the aroma of Christmas dinner. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the couches, a few draped haphazardly on the floor, where some of the Stray Kids members were already sprawled out.

You balanced a tray of steaming mugs, each topped with a creative swirl of whipped cream and crushed candy canes, carefully dodging an excited Han who was attempting to wrestle a pillow away from Seungmin.

"Felix, if we watch 'Home Alone' one more time, I'm going to scream," Seungmin grumbled grumpily, his tone as flat as ever. He narrowly avoided the pillow that Felix launched in retaliation.

"Leave him alone!" Hyunjin drawled from his self-designated throne of throw pillows near the fire place, his hair catching the flicker of the flames like a halo. "Let him live his festive truth!"

"Forget his festive truth," Minho reorted, reaching for a marshmallow from the tray you were precariously holding. "Let us live without the same movie on repeat each holiday season."

"Minho!" you scolded, twisting your body to save the tray from certain disaster. "If you don't let me put this down, you're all getting instant coffee instead of hot chocolate next year."

"Babe, you're doing amazing. Don't let them get to you." Chan, perched on the arm of the couch, chuckled softly at your exasperation.

Finally, you placed the tray on the coffee table, passing out the mugs one by one to a chorus of, "Thank you, y/n!" and exaggerated sighs of relief. Chan tugged you down beside him as soon as your hands were free, his arm slipping around your shoulders.

"You spoil them too much," he murmured, his lips barely brushing against your temple.

"That's what Christmas is for," you replied with a grin, gesturing towards the chaos as Felix launched into another impassioned defense of 'Home Alone.'

As the boys finally agreed on 'Elf', albeit, after much negotiation and a few suspicious rock-paper-scissors matches, you reached behind the couch and pulled out a stack of boxes. Each one was wrapped in crisp red paper with little silver ribbons tied in bows.

"Alright, children," you announced, setting the boxes down on the coffee table. "It's time for presents!"

They scrambled over the gifts like actual children, eagerly grabbing their boxes and tearing into them. Each box contained a matching pajama set, fluffy socks, and a small treat you had picked for each of them, such as a minature fox plush for Jeongin, a new sweets recipe notebook for Felix, and a scented candle for Changbin.

"Y/n, you're the best," Han declared, already pulling his socks on.

"This is so soft," Hyunjin announced, grinning as he held up his pajama top.

You basked in their delight, feeling the warm glow of satisfaction that came from making the people you love happy.

"Well, my love," Chan suddenly began. "We can't you go without a gift, now can we?" Chan reached behind the couch, pulling out his own gift box; this one was a chartreuse color, wrapped in a golden bow. Your name was scrawled on the tag in Chan's familiar handwriting.

"Let's see what the man of the house picked out for me," you teased, lifting the lid.

Inside was a pair of cozy flannel pajamas in a soft cream and emerald green pattern, folded neatly on top of a small bundle of tissue paper. You smiled, lifting the fabric to admire it, only to freeze as the tissue paper shifted, revealing something entirely unexpected.

Your breath caught as your fingers brushed against delicate lace, deep crimson and impossibly intricate. The lingerie set nestled beneath the pajamas was impossibly intimate, and your cheeks flamed the same color as realization hit.

You shot a wide-eyed glance at Chan, who was already watching you with a mischevious twinkle in his eyes. His lips quirked into a barely suppressed grin.

Before you could react, Seungmin, ever the curious one, leaned over to peek into the box.

"Wait, what is that-"

"Chan!" you exclaimed, slamming the lid shut with a sharp thud. "Not in front of the children!"

The room erupted into chaos. Han choked on a marshmallow, his laughter turning into wheezes as he rolled onto the floor. Changbin and Felix clutched their stomachs, their faces bright pink from laughing so hard.

"Chan!" Minho screeched, clutching his chest in mock scandal. "On Christmas Eve?! Really?!"

Hyunjin, the ever dramatic one, flopped onto the carpet with a hand over his heart.

"This is better than the movie," he declared, wiping a fake tear from his cheek.

Chan leaned closer to you, his face flushed but his grin shameless.

"What? It's festive."

"Festive is not the word I'd use," you muttered, glaring at him, though your lips betrayed you with a twitch of amusement.

The boys continued their exaggerated uproar, shouting over each other with increasingly dramatic reactions. Changbin gasped about being scarred while Jeongin muttered something about needing therapy.

Chan, unfazed by the chaos, pulled you closer, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispered, "Merry Christmas, baby."

You could not help but laugh, shaking your head as you leaned into his warmth.

"You're unbelievable," you uttered quietly, a soft smile on your lips contrasting your stark words.

"Maybe I could make it up to you?" he questioned, his voice shushed to where only you could hear him. "I could always give you another present."

"Oh yeah?" you challenged. "Like what?"

"Well, I'd have to show you, but I will say you'll have to wear the present I got you in order to get it." Chan's eyes darkened slightly, yet the cheeky grin on his face was ever-present. You stared into his gaze, your face flushed but your lips twisted into a daring smirk.

"Deal," you agreed, eliciting an eyebrow raise and soft giggle from Chan as he pulled you closer into his embrace.

Despite the teasing, the laughter, and the absolute mayhem, you could not imagine a more perfect Christmas Eve.

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alizha · 1 month ago

Text

ｈｏｌｉｄａｙｅｎｎｕｉ

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

⁀➷ 𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗎𝗇 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 | 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖺𝗎

Word Count: 4.8k

Tags: SFW, no use of gendered pronouns, references to and depictions of anxiety and depression, kissing

Summary: You and Reiner have a meet cute at therapy, and you're both feeling afloat during the holidays.

❖ masterlist ❖ read on ao3

The waiting room outside Dr. Keller’s office still bears the cheerful remnants of Christmas, even though the holiday had already come and gone. You’re sitting in your usual chair near the corner, puffy coat hugged tightly around you. Truth be told, the festive decor meant to liven up the room only adds to your listlessness.

There’s nothing wrong with the place as it usually is. The corners and empty spaces of the waiting room burst with vibrant greenery, strategically placed, you suspect, by Dr. Keller herself to maximize patient contentment. You’ve been with her for two years now, so you have a sense for that sort of thing.

A tall fiddle-leaf fig tree stands proudly in the corner closest to you, its glossy leaves catching the soft light filtering in from frosted windows. Now, it’s adorned with twinkling multicolored lights that throw alternating cool and warm shadows on the sage-painted walls. They blink unwaveringly and silently, regularly changing patterns every minute or so, and you can’t help but feel sorry that they’re being wasted on someone who can’t appreciate them.

You’ve been in a bit of a rut since November, something of which Dr. Keller was well aware, of course. She assured you she’d be available through the end of the year, and you’d taken her up on that, keeping up with your weekly visits. At the beginning of the month, she asked you how your Thanksgiving went.

“It was fine,” you’d said. “Quiet. Just me and Elvira.”

“Ah,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Your cat. Still not expanding your social circle, I see.”

You’d resented that. After all, Dr. Keller had told you to to start with things that feel comfortable. And Elvira is very comfortable. Cats didn’t judge, didn’t require any special considerations. They aren’t a challenge—not like people are. People are hard.

“We’re aiming for connections that talk back and don’t require kibble,” Dr. Keller had said flatly.

A big ask, but technically, you managed that the week before Christmas. You’d seen your next door neighbor, Mrs. Leary, when she was taking out her trash. She’d said Merry Christmas, and you said it back. Given the criteria set out for you, you’d say that counts.

You glance at the two doors at the far end of the waiting area leading to the therapists’ individual offices. Dr. Keller shared a space with another doctor, Dr. Madsen, whose names glinted on the brass plates adorning each door. You can practically already hear what Dr. Keller is going to say when you tell her about Mrs. Leary.

“It’s a start, but why not challenge yourself? Go beyond polite exchanges. Did you ask her how her holiday was?”

Sighing, you flit your gaze from the miniature pine tree twinkling at the edge of the low, rectangular coffee table topped with neatly arranged magazines, all holiday editions. Fixating on the strands of tinsel catching the light, each glimmer feels oddly louder than it should in the empty waiting room as you attempt to formulate an answer.

Your desperate clawing through the recesses of your mind for something more substantial than, “It just felt like too much,” is interrupted by the soft chime of the door. You glance up just in time to see him—tall, broad-shouldered, and blond. The man you’ve seen here at the office in passing many times before. One of Dr. Madsen’s patients, you’ve gathered in the time since you started noticing him.

Today, he’s dressed more casually than you’re used to, in a red flannel sherpa over a cream cable-knit sweater. In his arms, he’s juggling a navy backpack and several—maybe four or five—mini rose-gold foil gift bags. He looks even warmer and more approachable than in his usual business professional fare. It makes your stomach twist uncomfortably, a combination of envy and a familiar pang of fear, as he approaches the front desk with apparent ease.

“Morning, Lily,” he says pleasantly.

The secretary flashes him a dazzling smile. “Reiner! So good to see you. Did you have a nice holiday?”

You fidget with the hem of your coat. She didn’t make it sound so hard to ask. Maybe, you could do it, too. Maybe.

“It was fine,” the man—Reiner, you think to yourself��says, absently pushing the small potted succulent on Lily’s desk a smidge further away from the edge. “Quiet, just the way I like it. You?”

“Not quiet at all,” Lily says with a bell-like laugh. “Family chaos. You know how it is.”

“Lucky you,” he says with a faint smile. He adjusts the bags in his arms, pulling one carefully out of the pile by dainty ribbon handles and setting it on the secretary’s desk. “Just had to run into the office for a bit, and my coworker was handing these out. Take one off my hands?”

“Gladly!” Lily exclaims, her face lighting up all over again.

You can’t help but stare at the cheerful, gold-speckled tissue paper peering over the top of tiny curling ribbons. Until you realize Reiner has been glancing around the room, and his gaze has landed on you. Immediately, you look down at your lap, twisting your fingers together awkwardly.

“Still got decorations up, huh?” you hear Reiner say. “Festive.”

“Yeah, I keep meaning to take them down, but they’re so cheerful. Why the rush?”

There’s a shuffling of feet and paper, and you catch a glimpse of red out of the corner of your eye a few moments later. You tilt your head slowly and meet the man’s gaze again. He’s sidled past the coffee table and standing a couple steps away from you—a cautious, non-threatening distance.

“Hey,” he says with a disarming smile. “You… uh, want one of these?”

Your hands instinctively clasp over your knees, breath hitching. Plenty of other patients have tried striking up conversations with you in Dr. Keller’s waiting room before, but no one’s ever tried offering you anything. And it’s not really that you mind it’s just—

You’re no good with people. People are hard.

“Oh, no. That’s okay. I don’t—,”

“They’re just leftover office gifts,” he says carefully, taking a small step closer and holding one out toward her, thumb and forefinger gingerly pinching the sheer pink handle. The gift bag looks dainty and small and oh so endearing in his hand. “One of my coworkers went a little overboard. They mean well, though. Chocolate, I think. Or maybe soap? I honestly didn’t look too closely.”

You shake your head quickly, shrinking slightly. “No, really, I couldn’t—,”

“Please,” he says, his voice softening. “You’d be doing me a favor. Everyone at the office shoved these on me because they said I looked ‘too gloomy’ this season. Guess they thought this would help, but I wouldn’t know what to do with all this.”

His eyes, warm honey hazel, look just genuine and pleading enough to make you hesitate.

“You seemed… gloomy?”

He laughs lightly, a soft rumble of self-awareness. “I guess so. Anyway, I don’t need all these. Someone would enjoy them. I’m Reiner, by the way. And you’re…?”

You murmur your name in reply, barely audible, but he repeats it warmly all the same.

“Well, maybe you could take just one bag? You don’t even have to keep it—you could re-gift it if you want,” Reiner says. “But if I go through the trouble of lugging them all the way home on the bus, they’ll just sit on my kitchen counter until I forget about them.”

His kindness (and perhaps, his admittedly attractive face) placates your nerves just enough for you to extend a tentative hand. He looks pleased, placing the handle of the back in your grip. Warm fingertips gaze across your palm, his touch light and fleeting before quickly disappearing entirely. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Thank you,” you mumble, your cheeks warming.

“No, thank you,” he says with a grin. “Saved me from carrying these around the rest of the day.”

He looks around for a moment before moving to settle into the plush taupe chair beside the fiddle-leaf fig. You try not to look at him again, staring instead at the rose gold bag in your lap, plus still racing as you wait. When Dr. Keller finally emerges from her door and calls your name, you duck into her office and burn under the inquisitive look she gives you and your glittery new acquisition.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

You’re relieved when you don’t immediately regret leaving your apartment on New Year’s Eve to walk down to the main strip. The street is in full holiday swing, bursting with life and swirling with laughter and music.

Walking at a leisurely pace, you take in the string lights crisscrossing above you, glowing in warm yellows and icy whites. The storefronts are still dressed in their seasonal finery, frosty-edged windows sparkling with fake snow and wreaths and glimmering ornaments. And up and down the walkways, food vendors lined the curb, their carts sending up fragrant plumes of spice and cocoa.

The crisp winter air bites at your cheeks, and you pull the sides of your knitted hat a bit further down over your ears as you reach the plaza at the end of the strip. A towering Christmas tree stands at its center, huge ornaments glinting under the twinkling of a thousand multicolored lights. Beneath the tree, a stage is set up for a local band playing upbeat, jazzy renditions of holiday classics.

You weave through the throng of people gathered around, your breath puffing in soft white clouds. Some of them are dancing, others simply swaying to the music or beaming as they hold hands or clutch steaming cups in their gloved grasps. Everyone seems to be in the companionship of others, though. Not like you.

You hadn’t meant to come out tonight—not really. The thought of spending New Year’s Eve surrounded by so many people had seemed suffocating in the lead up. Yet, staying home had felt equally unbearable. You’d spent hours pacing your tiny apartment, torn between the guilt of declining your family’s invitations and the overwhelming anxiety of going.

So, you’d landed here, out among strangers. Their chatter blurs into a comforting hum in your ears. For once, it doesn’t feel like you have a hundred pairs of eyes on you, watching, judging. Everyone is too busy counting down the hours until midnight to notice you. It’s unbelievably freeing.

You pause by the edge of the plaza and stuff your hands deep into your pockets. As the band starts up Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, your gaze wanders back toward the large center tree, and you squint at a tall figure with short blond hair. That’s when you realize you recognize him from the therapist’s office—Reiner.

He’s leaning against the metal railing around the tree, hands shoved into the pockets of his long camel overcoat. His stance seems relaxed, but his expression is distant, eyes staring blankly into the pavement a few feet away as groups and couples walk past.

Your heart thuds in your chest. Maybe he’s waiting for someone. He doesn’t seem like the type to spend New Year’s alone, so handsome and charming. But he looks almost miserable standing there alone, you wish you could extend some sort of comfort while he waits, at least. Keep him company until his friend (girlfriend?) gets back.

The thought of approaching him paralyzes you with fear. You consider slipping away, pretending you haven’t seen him. Then, Dr. Keller’s voice echoes in your mind.

“We’ve been working on this bit by bit,” she’d said at your last appointment. “Maybe instead of thinking about it as a huge change, we break this down into smaller, achievable goals. Maybe you set a goal to initiate one meaningful conversation—with someone at work or even a cashier at a grocery store. The important thing is that you try.”

You swallow dryly, jaw clenching. You’d promised you would try. Progress wasn’t about perfection, even if you really want it to be with Reiner. But you were being presented with the perfect chance here.

You should take it.

Your legs feel like lead, but somehow, you forced them to move. Each step toward him is like a tiny battle. By the time you reach the railing, your palms are damp despite the cold. You clear your throat, voice coming out small.

“Hi, Reiner.”

He turns, life returning to his eyes when he stutters your name. “Hey,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised.

“I, uhm…” you hesitate, the words catching in your throat, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he says with a low chuckle. He glances around at the crowd before looking back at you. “Are you… alone?”

“Oh. Yeah.” The admittance tears through your gut like shrapnel.

“Me, too.”

“Oh.”

It comes out sounding surprised, which you don’t mean for it to. You wince inwardly as Reiner awkwardly lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck, the short of his blond rustling.

“Listen,” he says, shifting his weight and hesitantly meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Back at Dr. Madsen’s office. Well, I guess you go there for Dr. Keller. I didn’t mean to… uh, well, I guess I had seen you around and thought maybe it would be fine.”

You blink up at him, startled. “No, no, you’re not—,” you hurry to say, but then, you stop, unsure of how to continue.

You can feel the old, familiar instinct to retreat freeing up on you, the urge to politely escape the conversation before it gets too hard. You forcefully swallow down that urge and take a deep breath.

Baby steps.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” you say. “I meant it’s not easy for me to talk to people, but you’re not, uhm… scary. Not like a stranger on the street or something.”

Reiner tilts his head, his plush lips quirking into a soft smile. “Glad to hear it,” he says. “I’m not sure I could handle being called scary tonight.”

His tone is light, joking, but there’s a quiet hint of genuine relief there. You can’t help but let out a soft, nervous laugh. He really was afraid he had come off badly in front of you, and the thought that even someone like him could feel that way relaxes you in a way.

“It was a bath bomb, by the way. The office gift,” you clarify when he looks at you inquisitively. “Not chocolate or soap.”

“Right,” he says, amused. “Good thing you checked instead of taking my word for it.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, the silence between you surprisingly comfortable. You fidget with the zipper of your coat, searching for something to say. This is the part you normally dread—the moment when the conversation could slip away entirely because you can’t bring yourself to go beyond the pleasantries.

Inhaling deeply, you push out the words, letting them tumble out. “So, uhm… how’s your New Year’s Eve going?”

As soon as you ask, you regret it. Your stomach sinks when Reiner’s expression shifts. Just a slight flicker as his faint smile fades into something wistful before he plasters the cheerful mask back on.

“Well, it’s probably not going all that well if I’m wandering around alone,” he says, his dry tone all but revealing his self-deprecation. “Just came out for a walk, really, and ended up here. But then again, you did the same thing, right?”

You duck your head, cheeks heating. “Yeah,” you admit. “I was supposed to go to a big family thing. I just… I didn’t have it in me. Guess neither of us is really winning at the whole social thing tonight.”

Reiner makes a low, teasingly dismissive sound and shakes his head. “I’m not much of a party guy either. But hey, I wouldn’t count you out just yet.”

You cock your head at him questioningly, and his smile widens.

“Well, we’re friends, aren’t we?”

You’re shocked. Your jaw nearly drops. Friends? You and Reiner? “Does—does this make us friends?”

Sitting in the same therapists’ waiting room every week, seeing each other in passing once in a while there. You thought being friends required a bit more than that, but Reiner doesn’t seem to think so. Has it always been this easy, and you just stressed yourself out for no reason?

“Sure. Then, we can say we hung out with a friend for New Year’s Eve. I’d say that’s a win,” he says. “I would like to be friends. If that’s alright.”

You look up at him, a hopeful glimmer in your eye. The word—friends—bounces around in your head, thrilling and terrifying at the same time. But Dr. Keller’s been urging you to take steps toward real connection for months. This could be one of those steps.

“It’s better than alright,” you say, the corners of your mouth stretching into a smile. “Dr. Keller’s been insisting my cat doesn’t count as a friend for ages, so it’s amazing, actually.”

Reiner perks up, his brow lifting. “You have a cat?”

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “Her name’s Elvira.”

“I like cats,” he says. He leans in just slightly, but you get a full whiff of his scent, clean soap and the masculine fragrance of some variety of men’s shampoo.

“Well,” you say, warmth spreading in your chest as you study him curiously, “we’re friends, so you should meet her.”

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and excitement when he says, “Now?”

Your lips part, pulse thrumming fast. You didn’t plan on now, but you also don’t see why not. Reiner was, in your own words, not scary. Maybe this was a good idea and not one of those ideas that landed women on primetime news for entirely the wrong reasons.

“Now,” you affirm with a nod.

Reiner practically beams. “Lead the way.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

About twenty minutes later, you’ve made your way back up the strip and into your neighborhood with Reiner in tow.

“Dr. Keller said what I’ve been feeling lately is actually pretty common,” you’re explaining as you fumble with your keys.

The faint tremor of nerves is making the metal jangle softly in the otherwise quiet hallway. You’re hoping Mrs. Leary is asleep and doesn’t hear you and Reiner briefly loitering in the hall.

“She called it holiday ennui. You know, that weird, in-between time after Christmas but before New Year’s where everything feels off.”

“I get that,” Reiner says as you get the door unlocked and swing it open. “It’s like you’re supposed to be celebrating, but it feels more like you’re waiting for something to end. Or start. I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” you say, stepping inside and flicking on the light to reveal your cluttered living room. “Sorry, it’s a little messy in here.”

The idea of bringing someone into your space—a near stranger, no less—is something you’d never imagined yourself doing. Not even a week ago. But here you are, walking into your apartment with Reiner. Even the sleek black cat perched on the armrest of your couch looks confused.

“Don’t worry,” Reiner says with a reassuring smile. “My apartment looks like a tornado hit it most of the time.”

You set down your back and start toeing off your boots. “That’s Elvira, by the way.”

Reiner carefully slips off his own boots and overcoat, considerately placing them next to yours on the shoe mat and hanger. Moving slowly, as if not to startle the cat, he pads across the living room and kneels to get a better look. “She’s gorgeous.”

Elvira doesn’t move, her green eyes fixed on him with an imperious stare. You bite your lip and smile.

“She can be a little standoffish, but I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.”

Reiner nods. “Sounds like most cats I’ve met. They make you earn it.”

You settle into the far end of the couch and busy yourself with folding the blanket haphazardly thrown over it, your nervous energy bubbling up. “You’re, uh, welcome to sit. I’m sure Elvira won’t mind.”

He smiles gratefully and lifts himself up just enough before sinking into the other side of the couch. Elvira watches warily as Reiner sinks into the seat cushion, shifting her small paws as if deciding whether to hop down off the couch.

“It’s rough,” Reiner sighs thoughtfully, and you gather he’s picking up where your previous conversation left off. “That limbo during the holiday season. It’s been hitting me hard this year. Well, more than usual. I’m glad Dr. Madsen’s been available through the holidays.”

You fold your limbs cross-legged on the couch. “More than usual?”

“Yeah,” he says, shrugging. “I was diagnosed with depression last year. Started seeing Dr. Madsen about it around the same time. He’s been helpful. I mean, it’s not like a magic fix or anything, but it’s something.”

“Oh,” you say dumbly.

Of course, you’d known he was showing up at the same therapists’ office as you for a while, so there must have been a reason. When you think about the times you felt envious of the ease with which he seemed to carry himself, your first instinct is to tell him you could hardly tell he was struggling with anything, but that isn’t always what people want to hear.

Obvious or not, Reiner was getting help. That’s what was important.

“You’re… really good at masking it,” you settle on saying.

“Yeah, well. Years of practice, I guess,” he says. “It’s not like I’m trying to hide it on purpose. Just… everyone deals with it differently, right?”

You nod slowly. “Right.”

Elvira takes that moment to leap down from her perch right onto the center couch cushion between you, landing with a soft thump. You watch with interest as she leans in to sniff at Reiner’s outstretched hand.

“Looks like she approves,” you murmur, a smile touching your lips.

Reiner chuckles, turning his palm face-up to scratch under Elvira’s chin. “Just gotta give ‘em their space, you know? Can’t force anything on them, let them come to their own conclusions.”

The cat settles herself regally on the cushion, neatly curling her tail around her paws, and glances up at you. Perhaps cats didn’t judge the same way people did, but they were still good judges of character. And if Elvira had taken to Reiner, you were inclined to believe inviting him over hadn’t been a mistake after all.

You glance at the time on your phone and realize midnight isn’t far off. “Should we maybe turn on the TV for the countdown or something?”

“Yeah, sounds like a plan,” Reiner says without pausing from petting Elvira. “Can’t miss the ball drop, right?”

Leaning forward, you pluck the remote from the coffee table and click on the TV, flipping through a few channels before landing on a lively New Year’s Eve broadcast.

A glittering stage fills the screen, performers decked out in sequins that throw the spotlights shining down on them in a brilliant cacophony. After turning the volume up a bit, you set down the remote and absently reach over to brush Elvira’s fur. Your fingers caress warm, unfamiliar skin instead, and you realize with a jolt that you’ve touched Reiner’s hand.

With a sharp inhale, you jerk your hand away and snap your gaze to him. Both of you stammer out your apologies at the same time.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean—,”

“No, no, I’m sorry. She’s your cat—,”

You snap your mouth shut and look down at your socks, feeling the heat rushing to your cheeks. His hand is so big and warm, your stomach flutters recalling the fleeting touch. Reiner clears his throat quietly, his eyes glued to the screen.

“Looks like we caught the last performance,” he says.

“Do you usually watch this kind of thing?” you ask, sneaking a glance at him.

“Not really,” he admits. “Usually, I don’t even bother staying up for midnight. But I’m glad I’m doing something different this year.”

He gives you a tentative smile that makes your heart skip a beat, testing the waters. Instead of resuming his petting of Elvira, he relaxes into the couch and stretches out his arm across the backrest, hand resting gently on the cushion.

You return the smile and let your hand drift toward Elvira to scratch behind her ears. The cat purrs softly, tilting her head.

“Me, too,” you say quietly.

As the countdown looms closer, the broadcast on the TV switches to shots of the massive crowd gathered in Times Square. You lean in a little closer, your stomach performing flips as you pretend to adjust your position to better reach Elvira. But really, it’s more about closing the gap between you and Reiner.

You sidle in bit by bit until you’re close enough for his forearm on the backrest to brush against the nape of your neck, and an unexpected shiver runs down your spine. This is a thrill that makes your heart race in a way wholly different from trying to ask for help at a store. This is the kind you’re somehow enjoying, the kind you want to chase.

Reiner seems to notice, his gaze flickering briefly to you before settling back on the screen. Unimpressed by the shrinking space on the couch, Elvira lifts herself up in a long stretch before leaping to the ground and padding away, leaving Reiner’s warmth, solid and steady beside you. He scoots an inch closer to you, tucking you into the crook of his arm, and your nerves ebb away.

You turn to look at him just as the crowd on TV begins changing, “Ten! Nine! Eight!” only to find he’s already looking back at you. The movement of his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip draws your eyes down, and you guiltily drag them back up, throat suddenly dry. The scant air between you feels charged with something you can’t quite name.

As the countdown continues, Reiner leans in even closer. You can see the patterns in the gold of his irises as he searches your face for some sign that he’s pushed you past your comfort zone. Unconsciously, you hold your breath, your heartbeat wild against your ribcage.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Out of the corner of your eye, the screen erupts into a colorfully dazzling display of fireworks and lights, and a mix of cheers and music fill your small living room. But you barely notice as you close the last bit of distance between you and Reiner and press your lips firmly against his.

He kisses you slow and hazy, with lips that taste like cinnamon cider. The pleased sigh he lets out against your mouth is only a faint whisper, as delicate as the tickle of his stubble against your chin. He brings his hand up to your face, warm fingers now cool against your burning skin as he skims his knuckles down your chin.

Auld Lang Syne plays out from the TV, muffled in your ear beneath the rushing of your pulse as your every nerve alights. Reiner doesn’t rush the kiss, languidly plucking at your lips with his, as if he might scare you away otherwise. His thumb strokes along your jaw, the gesture so gentle that fondness stabs you through the chest.

You reach up to tangle your fingers into the soft of his hair—dragging him closer, slanting your head to deepen the kiss. Encouraging him to be bolder. Reiner groans.

He slides the hand on your jaw around the back of your neck, and heat ricochets through your veins. You add fuel to the fire, wrapping your arms around him, startled by your own brashness. His tongue rolls against the seam of your lips, hot and wet, and your breath hitches, opening yourself to allow him to tenderly explore your taste.

Just as you’re starting to notice the lightheadedness creeping up on you, a dizziness resulting from equal parts excitement and lack of air, Reiner parts from your lips and ducks his head to trail warm, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your neck. When he reaches your jaw, his tongue flickers out to lave at your ear.

A tiny whimper falls from your lips, and you nestle yourself into the juncture of his neck, panting into his flushed skin. The scent of his shampoo invades your senses again, leaves you fuzzy and yearning. Reiner’s fingers skate down the length of your spine to wrap his hand around your waist.

Somewhere in the far flung corner of your mind, you vaguely register that persistent, gnawing uncertainty that screams at you to flee. But the more present part of you drowns that instinct. It compels you to melt into the comfort of Reiner’s arms, hoping that he’ll let you stay pressed against him for a little while longer, even as your tongue twists into knots. You’ve been very good at asking for what you need.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” he sighs, sounding breathless.

“Happy New Year, Reiner,” you say softly into his ear.

His lips curve into a smile against your hair. “Happy New Year.”

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner x you #reiner x reader #reiner aot #aot reiner #snk reiner #reiner snk #snk #aot #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #my writing

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gilbertscurls · 2 months ago

Text

The living room was transformed into a cozy haven of twinkling lights, pillows, and fleece blankets. The blanket fort was a masterpiece—well, at least it was in Matt’s eyes. You had to admit, his enthusiasm made up for its slightly lopsided structure. He stood back with his hands on his hips, looking at his creation like it was the eighth wonder of the world.

“See? Told you I could engineer the perfect fort,” he said, shooting you a smug grin.

You raised an eyebrow, adjusting the hood of your matching Christmas pajamas. They were soft and ridiculously festive, covered in tiny candy canes and snowflakes. “Perfect is a strong word,” you teased, poking at the corner that sagged dangerously. “It’s cute, though.”

“Cute?” he repeated, clutching his chest as if you’d just mortally wounded him. “This is a work of art, and you’re lucky to be under its glorious roof tonight.”

You laughed, grabbing the bowl of popcorn from the coffee table and crawling into the fort. “Alright, Picasso, let’s see if your fort holds up through a movie marathon.”

Matt joined you, plopping down beside you with a dramatic sigh. “Oh, it’ll hold. Now, prepare yourself. I’ve curated the ultimate lineup of Christmas movies.”

The first movie started, a classic about a boy defending his home from bumbling burglars. You were barely ten minutes in when Matt’s running commentary began.

“Okay, but who just leaves their kid at home? Like, how do you mess up that badly?”

You covered your mouth to stifle a laugh, but he caught it and leaned closer. “No, seriously. They don’t even notice until they’re halfway across the Atlantic? These parents need a CPS case, stat.”

“Shhh,” you whispered, though your shoulders shook with laughter. “You’re ruining the movie!”

“Ruining it?” he gasped, looking offended. “I’m enhancing it. You’ll never watch this the same way again.”

By the time the movie ended, your stomach hurt from laughing so hard. Matt was relentless, pointing out every plot hole, over-the-top reaction, and ridiculous coincidence.

The second movie started—a romantic comedy with a predictable “big city girl moves to a small town” plot.

“Oh, here we go,” Matt said, settling in with a smirk. “Let me guess—she’s gonna fall for the hot, flannel-wearing dude who chops wood in his spare time?”

“Stop it,” you giggled, swatting his arm.

“And wait—wait! There’s gonna be a town-wide event where she realizes the true meaning of Christmas. Calling it now.”

Sure enough, when the protagonist was swept into organizing the town’s Christmas festival, Matt gave you a triumphant look. “What did I say? Flannel guy and a festival. Hollywood is nothing if not consistent.”

The night went on like this, movie after movie filled with Matt’s quips and your uncontrollable laughter. By the time the final credits rolled on the last film, the fort was starting to collapse, and the two of you were lying side by side under a pile of blankets.

Matt turned his head to look at you, his face softening in the dim glow of the string lights. “Okay, admit it. My commentary made this marathon ten times better.”

You smiled, reaching over to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Fine. You were hilarious. But next time, I’m picking the movies.”

He laughed, pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest. “Deal. As long as you don’t kick me out of the fort.”

“Never,” you said, your voice muffled against his pajamas.

The room fell quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the heater and the gentle rise and fall of Matt’s breathing. Wrapped in his arms, surrounded by the warmth of the blankets and the glow of Christmas lights, you thought to yourself that this—lopsided fort and all—was the best kind of holiday magic.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike

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grannyandgrandpascreations · 2 months ago

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Stay Cozy and Festive: The Perfect Merry Christmas Flannel Shirt for the Holidays

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seenoversundown · 1 month ago

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You're My Wishlist

Jake x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (warnings will be towards the end so if you want to skip them) Fluff, Christmas Cheer, Family time, A bit of yearning - which is silly because you got him Char come on girl, Sentimental moments, Cute cute cute, silly post sex comments- we know how Jake is lets be honest. SMUT WARNINGS: Oral (M & F) Hands going places, Unprotected Sex (do as I say, not as I do - WRAP IT UP, KIDS) some light ass related things, a lot of sexy commentary, lingerie, Jake is a MAN 🤭 (Soft Dom)

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: Jake and Charlotte spend their second Christmas together, but lucky for Jake, she has a special present for him waiting at home.

Author's Note: MERRY CHRISTMAS YA FILTHY ANIMALS- there was no chance that I wouldn't write something for the festive season, lets be real. I figured since Danny is rapidly approaching his time to shine, and we just left off with these two at Thanksgiving, I may as well wrap up the year with them one more time.

I hope you enjoy it!! This is absolutely not the last you'll be hearing from them- don't worry. They're sweet banter is just what we all needed for the holiday and to warm us up a bit! Okay okay, I can't wait to hear how you feel and I will see you on the other side! 🎄❤️

A Nonsense Christmas - Sabrina Carpenter "You'll be Santa Claus and I'll be Mrs, I'll take you for a ride, I'll be your vixen."

It’s already our second Christmas we’re spending together, and getting to have him with me makes sitting with my parents a little more fun. He came with me last year, and it was one of the first times he really even met them, but thankfully, he’s so quiet and calm that they love him.

This year is different because his parents decided to extend their little vacation and stay up here for Christmas. I think they missed all the boys last year, so now, we’re spending Christmas Eve with his family and Christmas Day with mine. It feels like we’re married already.

The logistics of us spending both days together seemed ridiculous in my head— having to drive down and then back but having my car, and it was all just too much. I’m grateful that Jacob is the person he is; he switched the hours he was going to work with Josh so he could get me last night.

After spending Thanksgiving with his family and then them being around since, today has been much less overwhelming. Getting to hang out with everyone is always so fun, even though we see most of them almost daily. It proves how attached Jacob and I are because we spend the entire time waiting for a reason to be next to each other.

This catches us up to where we are now; I don’t think he’s aware of how attractive he is, even when he’s not trying at all. He decided to wear the same outfit he wore when we kissed for the first time, whether he knew that or did it by accident— regardless, my mouth was watering over him.

It’s just a flannel and jeans, really, but it’s how he looks in them. I just can’t help but think of how adorable he was that night anytime he wears even a variation of it. He’s actually a lot more covered than usual, but it’s only because of the cold.

Now I’m standing here with his family, watching him from across the room, and I still get butterflies when I catch him staring back. I slide my phone out, quickly texting him. I know I could just go see him, but it’s more fun this way.

Me: baby you look so good tonight 😍

Seeing how he smiles at his phone before glancing at me, that man is mine. Mine, mine, mine. All mine. The smirk on his lips alone makes my knees weak. He looks back to his phone, typing quickly and then tucking it under his leg.

Jacob 🖤: just for you, beautiful 😘

“So, how has work been for you?” His dad’s voice caught me off guard.

“Oh!” I let slip out. I composed myself quickly and told him, “We’ve been so busy lately, but we were actually given a few days off because of the holidays, so I can’t complain.”

He chuckles to himself before quietly saying, “Hopefully, you get to enjoy your time off.”

With Jacob? Absolutely, I will.

“How have things been for you?” I ask him. Listening as he tells me how they’re glad they stayed up here a bit longer, I see Jake walking over out of the corner of my eye.

His arm slides around me, feeling his hand firmly planted on my side, keeping me close to him. I glance over at him, whispering, “Hi.” His little smile is enough of a response for me.

His dad chimed in, mentioning something about the bar, but frankly, I was too focused on the handsome man I was attached to.

Watching Jake as he starts telling him, “Yeah, actually, I just—“

And that’s about all I heard. I just stare absentmindedly at how his mouth moves when he talks or how he uses his hands. His fingers tap against me every so often as he explains things, but he always squeezes me or rubs my side when he stops.

He glances over at me. “Well, I’ll let you two finish catching up, I think I’m being put on Santa duty this year.” Pressing a kiss to the side of my head, he carefully lets his hand run over my ass as he walks off.

Santa, huh?

His mom sneaks over, her voice distracting me, “So, Jake said you’re seeing your parents tomorrow.”

“Yes! They’re excited to see him, which is sweet.”

“Oh, I’m so glad they like him,” she breathes out. A small giggle sneaks out of her as she tells me, “I’m partial to him.”

“No, they love him,” I reassure her quickly. “I wasn’t super worried because he’s so laid back, but my parents being who they are definitely made me concerned for a minute.” My eyes go wide, and a slight cringe on my face.

“Well, you never have to worry about us,” she says, grabbing my arm gently. “All of us love you and think you’re perfect for him.”

“He’s pretty great,” I let out. Looking over at him again, I really do love him so much. “Hopefully, he keeps me around.”

She laughs, which is oddly relieving. “Oh, don't be silly! Have you seen the way he looks at you? You’re not going anywhere, sweetheart.”

“Good,” I giggle out quietly. “That means we get to hang out more, too,” I whisper, gesturing between the two of us.

Her arm wraps around me quickly, “That’s the best part about it, isn’t it?”

I find myself watching him as I hang out with his parents and Quinn, just listening to them ask Quinn about school. Even just him sitting on the couch, with the glow of the Christmas tree, he isn’t doing anything in particular other than existing– he’s so fine. I slide my phone out subtly, texting him and then tucking it back under my arm.

Me: What if i said i want you to unwrap me like a present and play with me? 🥰

I can see him fighting a smile as he peeks over at me, shaking his head subtly. Watching him blush over little things is my favorite hobby. I have found it really precious that even after a year, he still gets flustered easily.

Jacob🖤: honey

I send him a little wink before I run off to help his mom with some snacks in the kitchen. Spending time with her during holidays has really become one of my favorite things. She’s quite possibly the nicest person I’ve ever met— her kids are absolutely a product of that.

She was so welcoming to me, even after the situation when we started dating. It was almost like she knew something must have been going on prior to me having a conversation with her one-on-one. Thankfully, we do get along incredibly well, and I couldn’t wish for a better potential mother-in-law. Just thinking that I could call him my husband one day makes me sweat.

Wandering back into the living room, I watch him rearranging the gifts closer to where everybody has slowly been sitting down. He grabs the stockings that his mom put together for everybody, setting them with their piles of gifts. It only takes a minute of being himself before I slide my phone back out.

He spends a few more minutes organizing everything before sitting back in his spot on the couch. He glances over to me, a little smile on his lips. I silently just shake my phone, watching his eyes move down and then grabbing it from his pocket.

Me: I can put on some tall socks later and you can stuff me instead 🤭

His eyes get wide reading my text, shifting a little in his seat as he rubs his face to help prevent himself from reacting. How is he so—? Looking up at me, but his stare felt different. I swear I could see his pupils dilate from across the room.

His quiet voice, barely legible through the chatter of everyone else, “Come here.” His hand patted his thigh as he told me, and if anything was going to light a fire in me, it was that.

His hand slid around my waist as I sat down on his lap; there was absolutely plenty of space that I could just sit next to him, but this was definitely more fun.

“You’re taking this whole Santa bit seriously, huh?” I ask him quietly.

His giggle made his body shake a little as he leaned forward. His face turned so only I could hear him. His voice lowered when he asked, “Have you been a good girl?”

My heart about stopped; oh my god. Without hesitation, I carefully cross my legs, unprepared for him to say something like that. I never expected that to be so sexy.

“What’s wrong, Honey?” his question taunted, as his hand squeezes my thigh just hard enough to make me sweat. I may tease him through text, but the moment he opens his mouth, I’m done for.

“Nothing, baby,” I tell him, a small smile forming on my face. “Just excited to give you a present I forgot at home.”

His eyes bounced to my lips and back before letting out, “Can’t wait.”

The sound of wrapping paper ripping distracted the both of us quickly.

The difference between our families is wild to see. I don’t know if it’s because all three of the boys, when they were younger, just couldn’t stomach waiting, but their parents just let them go wild with opening things. I just kind of watch for a second as they’re all handing gifts back and forth and starting to open them.

My family is way more quiet, and it was only my sister and I, which, given our age gap, made it a lot easier for us to take our time with Christmas gifts. They typically let me go first since I was younger and too excited, but everyone took turns, so it was a drawn-out process in our house.

Their parents just watched as everyone started opening things, and the loud chatter only got worse with the mix of ‘Thank you’s. It’s easy to tell that they love spoiling their kids, but I think they just like getting to spend time with them since they’re all adults now. Seeing how their parents treat them– it makes sense why all three of them are the way they are.

Unwrapping a gift from his mom, a deep forest green knit sweater sits in my lap. It’s so soft. I looked over at her, and she already had eyes on me, apparently.

“Thank you,” I tell her excitedly. “It’s so cute!”

She blows a kiss at me, “You’ll have to show me whatever outfit you put together.” She shoots me a little wink before turning to Sam as he starts to tell her something.

I could just watch all of them interact with each other and be happy about it. The dynamic between all of them is just so loving and sweet. Knowing full well that when the boys were kids, I can only imagine that it was harder. But seeing everybody as adults, and especially since all of their boys now have partners to share the holidays with, it’s adorable to see how their parents act around them.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After a bit, everybody slowly started losing steam, so we took the chance to get out while we could. We both knew it would take a minute for us to be able to leave since we had to say ‘goodnight’ to everyone, even though we will see the bulk of them this week anyway. The drive to my apartment felt like nothing, maybe because I was selfishly excited to just spend time with him alone.

Staring at him while he drives is a gift on its own. His side profile could be hung in a museum. Listening to his soft little voice after hours spent surrounded by his family, it’s honestly comical how differently he has to speak when Sam and Josh are in the room. It’s not like we don’t see each other enough, but knowing we have to share our time with family, so of course, I’m going to eat up any second I have him to myself. Just getting to enjoy the feeling of his hand on my leg as he drives. But nothing beats the view of his hand gripping the steering wheel. Mmm.

I’m not always proud of the fact that his hands were one of the first things I fully focused on when I met him, but they’re wildly nice. They’re also fairly large, which is baffling because he’s not a big man by any means. Even just getting a small glimpse of his wrist gets me going, his sleeve sliding down slightly. I don’t know what it is about him that makes this happen to me, but I’m not going to complain.

His other hand flexed on my thigh, watching the way his fingers pressed into my leg for a second, giving it a little squeeze; how he puts rings on when we have plans that aren’t just sitting in the bar because he’s definitely figured out that I’m obsessed with it. But honestly, it’s hard not to be obsessed. He can’t exist without casually touching me, which I still get butterflies from even after a year. The moment he sits in the driver’s seat, his hand searches for mine or my leg. If we’re out somewhere, he’s holding my hand, touching my back, pulling me closer to him so people can sneak by us, but leaving his hands wherever they’ve landed.

“So, about this gift you forgot?” he softly asks, his thumb grazing over the back of my hand as he does. My head whips over to him– didn’t realize how zoned out I actually was.

I just hum back, “Mhmm?”

“Did you really forget or..” kept his voice low, but the little smirk on his lips sold him out. Oh, that little shit. He probably has spent the last couple of hours trying to decide what it is and, more than likely, is on the right track with it.

Looking at the time and seeing that we’re almost to my apartment, I make the executive decision to rile him up a little more.

I let out quietly, “It’s something I wouldn’t want your mom to see.” Reaching over and tuck some of his hair behind his ear so I have a clearer view of his sweet face. Even in the dark, I can see the red creep into his cheeks as it clicks in his brain.

“I love you,” he giggles out, pulling my hand up to kiss the back of it a few times.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Once we’ve made it inside, dropping our bags that Jake insisted he could carry all of. I watch him plop himself down onto my couch, curling up with one of the throw pillows as he watches me put some of my things away.

“Hey you,” he says, barely loud enough to get my attention. “You can clean tomorrow.”

Pouting at him, I whisper back, “I only have like two more things.”

“Well, hurry up,” he giggles, with a big cheesy grin on his face. “I need to know what this gift is before I lose my mind.” I can feel the excitement radiating from him.

“Ohhhh,” I teased him. “Just stay there for me– I’ll go get it.” Shooting him a little wink as I scurried off into my room.

Pulling the lingerie from my drawer— there’s not much to it. Slipping on the bottoms before working on the top. I spent too much time scrolling, trying to find a cute Christmas set to surprise him, and with that, I ended up here. The bra basically just being a ribbon that you tie over your tits, dreading to admit that it is actually kind of cute once it’s on. I step in front of the mirror to make sure the bow is even. Oh, he’s going to lose his mind, regardless.

Fluffing my hair up a little and reapplying some lipstick, I do one more little spin in front of the mirror before ripping the metaphorical band-aid off.

“Baby,” I say loudly as I open my door. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know, am I?”

I can’t help but giggle at his little voice. Telling him quietly, “Probably not.” Rounding the corner to my living room where he is.

“Oh my–” falls out of him. His hand covering his mouth as he mumbles, “Holy shit, Char.”

“Worth the wait?” I ask quietly, feeling the blood rush into my face. Something about standing in front of him in this as he just stares at me makes my body feel warm.

“I– um,” he hesitates as he stands up from the couch, taking a few steps over to me. His hands grab mine, and holding my arms out as his eyes take down my body. “You’re always gorgeous, but this is something.”

“Oh, let me show you–” I spit out, starting to slowly spin around, still holding one of his hands.

“Honey, fuck me,” he whispers. Just listening to him fall apart is already fun. “My god.” To be fair— the bottoms do not really cover much… which was probably a little mean of me.

“Well, I just thought,” I start, stepping closer to him. “Since you work so hard—“ I adjust the collar on his flannel, trying to avoid eye contact with him because I know he’s already struggling.

He raises his eyebrows but just hums back, “Mhmm.”

My hands run down his chest as I keep going, “And you do so much for me—“ I press myself into him, batting my lashes at him a few times.

“Anything for you,” his eyes soften, but the little smile on his lips is devious.

“And I love you so so much,” I tell him, running my finger down the slope of his nose and then holding the side of his face. Feeling his hands slide around my waist as I tell him, “You deserved something extra special for Christmas.”

“Is that right?” He asks, his voice a bit lower.

“Mhmm,” I hum back before whispering, “Whatever you want.”

He leans in, kissing me gently before asking, “You sure about that?”

I just nod, wrapping my arms around his neck and walking him toward the couch. He sits down, pulling me into his lap. Instantly, his hands are sliding up my thighs.

I move to straddle him, sitting up on my knees for a second, and I watch the gears in his head start turning. It takes less than a second before the cool air hits my skin.

“Oops,” he lets out quietly, giggling to himself as the bow comes undone. His hands wrap around my rib cage, pulling me closer, leaving little kisses against my sternum.

His hands move to grab my ass; his smirk into me is so cute, but it makes me nervous. Watching him not know what to do as he slides his hands up my body, giving my tits a little squeeze.

I whisper, not to distract him too much, “I love when you’re like this.”

“Yeah?” His eyes glance up at me as I’m still hovering over him a bit.

“Mhm,” I hum. Deciding to lean into it a little, I tell him, “You’re always so gentle; it’s fun when you let loose a little.”

His stare changed slightly, but a little smile crept onto his face.

“In that case,” he lets out, wrapping an arm around me, picking me up as he stands but quickly plopping me back down onto the couch and crawling over me, sliding his leg in between mine, pressing it against me when he leaned down to kiss me. Fighting every urge as the pressure alone already feels good.

Leaving wet kisses against my neck, working his way down until I watch his face light up as he’s brushing his thumbs over my nipples. A small whimper sneaks out of me, which makes him look up.

“Does that feel good?” he asks; the tone of his voice makes me shiver. He carefully rolls them between his thumb and index fingers, his jaw going a little slack while he stares at me. My legs twitch around his at the feeling. “Oh, it’s that good, huh?”

All I can do is nod. My hands reach to grab his shirt, but he’s quick to grab my wrists, pinning them above me with one of his hands. My breathing is heavy as he hovers over me; he just stares at me for a minute.

“You said whatever you want,” he whispers, leaning in close to my face.

All I can manage is a small “mhm.”

He brushes his lips over mine– his smile making my heart race. He lowers his voice when he tells me, “Then be a good girl and let me play with you.”

My hips defy me, grinding against his thigh as a quiet moan slips out. He’s so sexy, oh my god.

“Oohh,” he coos, taunting me. “You do like when I call you that.”

I just bite my lip gently as I look back at him. I don’t know what’s come over him but I’m not about to fight it.

“Thought you got away with it earlier,” he says smugly. “I knew you crossed your legs because I made your pretty little cunt ache.”

My jaw drops at how he’s speaking, letting out a quiet “Jacob.”

His sweet little laugh as he leans in to kiss me, feeling the smile against me, taking every chance to kiss his cupid's bow until he mumbles against me, “What, honey?”

“You’re just,” I start, but the way he’s smiling at me makes my brain stall. “Um, you’re so—“

His little raspy voice chimed in, “Tell me.”

I stare at him in awe; Jacob’s never like this, so forward. He giggles quietly at my lack of response, his free hand holding the side of my face, letting his thumb run over my cheek gently.

“Mmm, that’s okay,” he whispers, his hand sliding down my neck until I feel him lightly trace circles around one of my nipples. He dips down, wrapping his lips around it, following that same circular movement with his tongue. A small groan comes from me at the feeling when he moves to the other side, teasing me the same way but quietly letting out a small ‘mmm.’ His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down the middle of my chest.

“Keep these here, alright?” he whispers, squeezing my wrists a few times. I nod at him, biting the inside of my lip. Watching as he sat up, grabbing both of my legs and lifting them– blocking any view I had of whatever he was going to do. Until I feel his tongue flat against my clit, sending a shiver through my body.

His mouth is warm against me, knowing all the right places to be, god he’s too good at this. The moans practically fall out of me when he slips one of his fingers inside. Years of working with his hands really are just a godsend for me– he can ruin my life with minimal effort.

Pushing my legs closer to my chest, I feel his mouth moving lower. Um.. But he picks up the pace with his hand, and my mind goes blank again.

“Mmm, baby,” I let out quietly. Feeling the little smirk on his face as he kisses the inside of my thigh.

Gently biting at it before he tells me, “I have an idea.”

Pulling me up to him, planting a kiss on me, and whispering, “Turn around for me.”

I’ve never moved quicker– turning around and leaning down onto my elbows. The feeling of him gently sliding his hands over my legs gives me butterflies. His breath against my skin alone made me feel a bit desperate, knowing that I was littered with goosebumps.

His lips made contact with my ass, leaving a few kisses on me before he mumbled, “God, I love you.”

The gasp I let out when his fingers make contact with my clit, almost maddening how he knows just how to move to make everything feel better. Sliding them to feel how wet he’s made me, which he doesn’t have to try for that to happen. Just knowing he’s behind me is enough.

Moans keep sneaking out of me, which only keeps him motivated. Feeling his free hand grabbing at my ass every so often, always following it with a small kiss until he just spreads me open.. holding it there for a moment. The cool air hit places I hadn’t anticipated, which felt oddly vulnerable.

“Whatever I want, right?” he asks.

I glance back over my shoulder slightly, “Mhm.”

“You’re sure?”

I give him a slight nod; what is he doing?

Without hesitation, he flicks his tongue against my clit, making sweet little circles around it. Licking a wide stripe up, finding it harder to resist grinding against him. He lingers there for a second; I swear I can feel that he’s nervous.

My jaw falls open as his tongue makes contact, not having felt anything like that before. He laps at me like he’s starving and slips one of his fingers back into me, pressing down as he does. Holy shit.

“Baby– oh my god,” slips out louder than I wish it did. My hands are grabbing desperately at the couch cushion, not knowing what else to do. Truthfully, I’d never been comfortable enough with a man to let him near my ass like this, but Jacob is different.

Pulled from my thoughts when his hand rapidly started rubbing my clit; the tension from my orgasm building about to burst. His tongue presses harder into me when it hits. A light layer of sweat covers me as my hands death-grip the couch.

He whispers, “Stay right here for me, honey.” Luckily for him, I don’t think I could move if I wanted to.

He’s only gone for maybe a minute before he’s sat in front of me, tucking some hair away from my face. He leans in, kissing my cheek a few times, mumbling, “I cleaned up, don’t worry.” I giggle into him, soaking up the feeling of his lips on mine.

He slides the flannel off and then pulls his shirt over his head with one hand— no matter how many times I’ve seen him do that, it’s still hot.

“Sit up for me,” he tells me. I turned to face him, still sitting on my knees. My hands flew to unbutton his jeans for him. Dragging them down his legs until his hand is holding my jaw, laughing into a kiss as he finishes pulling them off. “Mmm, open for me, yeah?”

He stands fully; I can’t take my eyes off him. Watching him as he stroked himself a couple of times, and my mouth fell open like he asked. He slides himself in, and my lips wrap around him instantly. His hands hold the sides of my head as he starts gently thrusting himself into my mouth.

I keep my eyes on his face— the way his eyes are closed and that delicious little pout of his. Occasionally, his mouth falls open slightly, especially when he’s hitting the back of my throat gently. Listening to the little moans come from him, he sounds so sweet.

He pulls back completely, leaning down to kiss me— this man I swear. Grabbing me, he just picks me up, turning me to face the back of the couch. Instinctually propping my arms up on the back of the couch, I push my ass into him a little.

Taking no time, he slides himself into me, slowly pushing his cock all the way in. Maybe he was onto something with the “cunt aching” thing because, good god, I needed that.

He gently fucks me, his hips moving at a crawling pace. I let out a few small ‘mmm’s knowing that’s what gets him going; his hands squeezing my hips every time.

“Mmm, my beautiful girl,” he lets out. My heart pounds at his voice. “Taking my cock so well.”

“Jake,” I moan, unable to hold it in. Where has he been hiding all this?

He leans over me, kissing my shoulder blade lightly. His hips stop moving for a second— just long enough for him to whisper, “If you want me to stop, just tell me. Okay?” And there’s my sweet Jacob again.

Turning my face, so I can just barely see him. I open my mouth to respond to him, but the only thing that comes out is, “Oh.” His thumb lightly grazes my other hole, sending a chill through my body, and I can feel my face heat up. Why does that feel kinda..

“Is that okay?” He asks quietly.

Shyly I mumble back, “um.. yes.”

His hips start to move again as he gently adds pressure with his thumb— the moan coming out of me sounds feral. Holy shit.

Every noise that escapes me makes him snap his hips harder into me. He grabs one of my hands, pulling it back towards him and resting it on his wrist before his thumb starts pushing a bit harder.

The feeling of it starting to slip in, I can’t fight the gasp I let out. He keeps slowly pushing it further, and I have to admit that it feels good, littering the air with my moans, his hips slamming into me, and he finally slips his thumb into me. My hand grabs his wrist quickly at the feeling.

“Hun—“ his voice sounds serious.

My head falls back, the sweat starts forming again, and I tell him, “Baby, I’m close—“

He wraps his arm around me, pulling me up against him but gently moving his hand away. His face tucked into my neck, whispering, “Let me have it.”

“Come with me,” I moan.

He snakes his hand down, barely touching my clit, and I can already feel myself about to break.

“Tell me where,” he says, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. My brain feels fuzzy as I try to focus on his voice, but the rest of him is driving me crazy.

“Baby— fuck,” I spit out. “Come in me.” My body leans forward a little, my legs starting to shake as my orgasm hits. “Fuck, Jacob. Come, baby.”

His hips are getting sloppy, and I can feel him release. His sweet moans littered the air, a slew of ‘fuck’s as he came down from it– leaving kisses on my shoulder when I heard him giggling.

He backs up from me, but I feel something soft immediately covering me. What is he-? Glancing down, he’s holding his shirt against me so I can sit and not mess up my couch. Ew, I love him.

“What are you on about, giggles?”

He just smiles at me, shaking his head.

“Jacob, you’re gonna end up telling me. Spit it out,” I say, laughing with him.

“Hun, it’s just—“ he starts, cutting himself off with a laugh. I’d watch him smile like this forever, even if I never got the rest of his thought. “How am I supposed to look your parents in the eye tomorrow?” Laughing with him this time, he has a point.

“It won’t be that bad..” I try to make him feel better.

He wipes his hand over his mouth, looks at me, and fights his smile when he says, “Honey, please. I just ate your ass and came inside you— at what point is it not that bad?”

“JACOB,” I bark out, my face heating up as I laugh.

He walks back over, kissing the top of my head before mumbling, “Come on, you– let’s get you cleaned up.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

I come out into the living room after showering, and he’s already sitting on the couch. Just seeing him comfortable and not actively checking on the bar is nice.

Naturally, I’m crawling into his lap; nothing is better than being close to him. He would just pull me into him anyway.

“I have something for you,” he whispers.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Here,” he says, handing me a small present.

Quickly peeling back the wrapping paper, a small ornament is sitting in my hands. A little gold frame that looks vintage, with a cute picture of us from a date night a few weeks ago.

We found a little Christmas market that was going on in Portland and of course, they had so many cute background options. This specific photo was one of the last ones we took because we were both cold and getting delirious, which you can tell by the way he squished my face a little in his hand as he kissed me. It’s my favorite one; he looks so happy even if I forced him into a million pictures that night.

Flipping it over, I noticed that he put the year in the bottom corner but wrote, ‘one more?’ in the middle because I definitely asked him every photo if we could just take ‘one more.’

“Jacob,” I whisper, my throat a little tight at how sweet he is. “I love it— I love you.”

He kisses the side of my head gently, “I’m glad— I love you so much.”

I stand up from him, walking right over to the skinny tree I have decorated and rearranged a few things to be able to hang this one up.

Standing back and looking at it, my eyes tear up a little. I take a deep breath as I stare at it; I don’t know what I did to deserve this man. Feeling his arms slide around me and his face tuck into my neck, pressing a little kiss into the side of it.

“Merry Christmas, honey,” he whispers, letting his lips rest on my cheek, and I can feel the smile on his face.

I lean back into him, my heart fluttering because I absolutely just fell in love with him all over again. I turned to look at him, his eyes sparkling from the lights on the tree. Nothing will ever compare to this feeling. If he only knew that he’s the greatest gift I’ll ever get. I lean in, pressing a kiss against his lips and whispering, “You too, baby.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn

Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars

Danny & Melody : Come Back For Me

Caravel Tavern 😉

Taglist:

@gvfsstardust @myleftsock @dont-go-home-without-me @literal-dead-leaf

@lizzys-sunflower @mackalah @klarxtr @edgingthedarkness @writingcold

@takenbythemadness @earthgrlsreasy @peaceloveunitygvf

@josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk

@broken0mens @whereiskeara @gvf-luna @katuschka @threadofstars @i-love-gvf

@jazzyfigz @smoking-jakelane @gretavanfan @scoreofinfantryvines

@demonrat444 @hollyco @ourlovesdesire

@musicspeaks @wrldabomination @chloeshell1219

@becinabubblegvf @sanguinebats @lallisonl

@nicoleghost18 @lightmy-love @myownparadise96 @cheersdannyx2

@musicislove3389 @allof--mylove @hailthegodsong @fleetingjake

@Mohollandtx @hearts-hunger

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shnoob · 2 months ago

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Sally Face HC’s (Thanksgiving Edition!)

A/N: Hey everybody! I know this is a late post so 😭. But anyways, I hope everyone had a great holiday these past days if you celebrate it! If not, hope you had a great week <3.

ALSO THANK YOU FOR ALL THE SUPPORT OMG!!!

Leave any suggestions if you want to see something specific!

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

I feel like any holidays in the apartments usually go unnoticed at first, however that is until one special year!!

This year Sal, Lisa, Larry and the gang decided to put a Thanksgiving event together!!

In order to get this together they decided to wrap around the table and figured out the main details (In the messy handwriting of Larry until Lisa takes over halfway):

The event will be held down in the basement (Larrys and Lisa's apartment)

They’ll have an “adults” and “kids table”. (Adults versus the teenagers plus Soda).

A sign up sheet for food!

Since Lisa and Larry were hosting Thanksgiving, they decided to bring the essentials (forks, spoons, etc) and dessert!

After brewing up the plan together, Sal and Larry went up together around the apartments to see who would show up and if they had any food to offer.

Mostly everybody in the apartments came down for Thanksgiving! However Mrs. Rosenberg and Mr.Addison (as expected) did not arrive.

He did give tea for the occasion however!

Thanksgiving comes around and everybody has a fun time! All dressed up in the festive mood with flannel tablecloths and cut out leaves Ashley helped set up before <3.

For Soda, our main guys sit with her and end up coloring around the small table. I feel like they would show her hand turkeys and those: “Im thankful for __” cards.

However, without them seeing each other's cards they all ended up making their card for eachother <3.

After the whole event, Larry and Sal sneak out and go spend the rest of Thanksgiving with Megan.

#sal fisher #sallyface #sally face fandom #sally face #sally fisher #shnoob #sally face fanart #sally face hcs #sally face headcanons #female writers #writers on tumblr #creative writing #larry johnson #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher x you #travis phelps #ashley campbell

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joelalorian · 2 months ago

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Wonder in Winterland - Part II

Hallmark!Joel x f!reader | wc: 5k | masterlist

Series Summary: You, a city girl on a cross-country road trip a week before Christmas, find yourself stranded in a whimsical Christmas town. You soon discover there is more to life than big city dreams. Based on the Hallmark movie Love You Like Christmas.

Warnings: None (although the rest of this blog is 18+ mdni). This is utter fluff and whimsy, with a occasional foul language and lots of banter in the AU style of a Hallmark Christmas movie. Matchmaker!Sarah. Limited descriptions of reader and no use of y/n. Enjoy it with a cuppa hot cocoa and a warm blankie. Will post on Sundays throughout December.

A/N: Thank you so much for the love on this fun little series. It warms my heart like you wouldn't believe! I wrapped this part up early and couldn't wait until tomorrow, so here is Part II a day early. Also, if anyone is interested in creating a moodboard for this fic, you would have my undying love for eternity! Thank you brittmb115 for the perfect moodboard!

Series Masterlist

Part II

“I see you met Barkley,” Maria laughed as you and the pup made your way down the stairs. “He likes to make himself right at home.”

“He’s a great napping partner,” your replied with a broad grin. “How long have you had him?”

“Oh, Barkley’s not ours, he’s Joel’s dog. I think he’s had Barkley for about three years now. Just showed up one day, underfed and in dire need of grooming, and never left,” Maria explained, bending down to greet Barkley with enthusiastic belly rubs. “Joel checked with all the shelters and vets in the entire state hoping to find his owners, but no luck. Now he and Joel are best buds and he stays with us with sometimes.”

Gosh, as if you didn’t already find the man insanely attractive. Now you found out he’s a rescuer of lost dogs. Your heart melted into a puddle right there on the gorgeous hardwood floor.

“Joel and Sarah should be here any minute. Hope you’re hungry!”

The dining room at the Evergreen House was a picture-perfect holiday scene with a long wooden table polished to a deep mahogany, the chandelier above adorned with garlands of holly and fairy lights that cast a warm glow around the festive room. The table filled with delicious food and the scent of roasted turkey and baked cinnamon apples mingled with the faint fragrance of the artfully decorated tree in the corner.

“It smells heavenly in here,” you admitted, taking a seat at the large table.

Joel entered just as you settled a cloth napkin in your lap. Tall and broad, dressed in a fresh green flannel and dark jeans, his presence filled the room. His dark umber eyes lit up at seeing you, leaving your heart sparking to life like the first crackle of a fire in the hearth. A young girl bounded in behind him, an adorable ball of energy wrapped in a red sweater with snowflake patterns. Her dark eyes sparkled with curiosity when they landed on you, but her attention quickly veered toward the happy pup as Barkley sought her affections by spinning circles in front of her. A man with dark hair like Joel’s only longer entered the room last, slipping into the seat at the head of the table and flashed a welcoming grin in your direction.

Maria clapped her hands together once everyone was seated, her smile bright. “Everyone, this is our newest guest.” She went about introducing you by name to Tommy and Sarah, and you were instantly charmed by the knowledge that Sarah was Joel’s daughter. Still, you were curious about his marital status. Your eyes darted to Joel’s left hand to find the third finger bare before turning your focus back to Maria. “She’s here thanks to Joel and his, uh, interesting day on the highway.”

Sarah giggled, nudging her dad’s side as his cheeks flushed, a faint pink blooming beneath his scruffy beard. “Interesting, huh?” he muttered, pouty lips curving into a sheepish smile.

Taking pity on him, you chimed in. “Let’s just say his charm makes up for his ability to block a highway.”

Joel’s laugh came soft and low, the sound melting into the warmth of the room. His eyes caught yours, holding your gaze just a moment longer than necessary. Your heart gave an unexpected flutter, the kind that felt like the start of something magical. ‘Twas the season for it, after all. Right?

The dining room soon buzzed with the easy warmth of family chatter, laughter weaving its way around the table. Joel sat across from you, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp, flicking your way every so often as if drawn to you involuntarily. Beside him, Sarah eagerly loaded her plate, small hands working with the kind of determination that only a child could muster when mashed potatoes were involved. Judging by the size of the pile on her plate, Sarah’s eyes were three times the size of her stomach and you doubted she would finish even half of it.

Tommy leant back in his chair, his easy grin matching the sparkle in Maria’s eyes as they presided over the table like a pair of holiday hosts straight out of a Christmas card.

“So,” Sarah began, looking at you with wide-eyed curiosity. “Are you married?”

You nearly choked on your sip of cabernet, the question snowballing out of nowhere. Joel froze mid-reach for the breadbasket, his ears turning visibly pink. “Sarah,” he started, voice low with a gentle warning, “that’s not—”

“Nope,” you interjected, cutting him off with a good-natured smile. “Not married, you cheeky little thing. Why do you ask?”

Sarah shrugged, her mischievous grin giving away more than her casual tone. “I was just wondering, ‘cause you’re pretty and Daddy’s not married either. Isn’t that funny?”

Tommy sat back in his seat and barked out a laugh as his brother groaned and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, I’ll be,” Tommy said, his voice thick with amusement. “Kids say the damnedest things, huh?” He ignored the scowl Joel sent his way.

“Sarah,” Joel muttered, the look he shot her equal parts exasperated and affectionate. “Why don’t we talk about something else? Like, oh, I don’t know… school?”

Sarah scoffed, clearly enjoying making her dad uncomfortable in front of you. “School’s boring, dad. This is way more interesting.”

“Smart kid,” Tommy quipped, raising his glass in her direction and flashing Joel a cheeky wink. “She’s not wrong, ya know.”

“Tommy! Stop encouraging her,” Maria hissed, hiding the grin that tugged at her lips behind her wine.

Joel’s gaze darted to you, his lips curving into a helpless smile that made your stomach flip. “Sorry about that,” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear over the chatter from the other three Millers. “She’s got a knack for stirring up trouble.”

“Which she clearly learned from your brother,” you teased, leaning over the table just enough to meet his eyes fully and keep your conversation quiet. “But I don’t mind. She’s just curious and I’m utterly charmed by her. Besides,” you added, your eyes sparkling and tone playful, “she’s not the only charming Miller in the room.”

Joel’s eyebrows shot up slightly, a spark of surprise flickering across his handsome face. “Careful, darlin’,” he drawled, his voice like warm honey coating your skin. “My brother’s married, ya know, and his wife is sitting right next to you.”

You responded with a playful roll of your eyes, “He’s obviously not the Miller I was talking about, Joel.”

“Well, you keep talkin’ like that and I’ll start thinkin’ you like me.”

Tommy let out a low whistle, clearly eavesdropping. “Careful with this one, brother. Sounds like she’ll give you a run for your money.”

Joel shot his brother a look, but you didn’t miss the way his shoulders relaxed, his confidence returning in spades. “Just tryin’ to make a good impression on the big city lady,” he said, gaze settling warmly back on you. “Not every day you meet someone who fits right in like they’ve been here all along.”

The words, simple as they were, carried a weight that made your cheeks warm. You glanced down at your plate, digging your toes under Barkley’s fur as he laid beneath the table to distract yourself, and fought the pull of your lips curving into a pleased smile. Maria’s knowing expression told you the fight was for naught.

“Alright, you rascals,” Tommy said, breaking the moment with a chuckle. “Let’s finish up and move onto dessert before Sarah starts planning a wedding.”

After dinner, you settled on a couch in front of the fire with Sarah, where the rest of the Millers insisted you stay while they cleaned up. Being a chatty and precocious young girl, Sarah regaled you with various tales of her and Joel’s life, often including embarrassingly cute details about her father and pausing to eye your reactions. She was a delightful storyteller.

“I meant it at dinner,” she said, suddenly changing subjects from how she taught Barkley to fetch pinecones yesterday. Her voice took on a hint of longing and wonder. “You really are pretty.”

You hummed in response, running your fingers over her hair. “Thank you. You are so pretty, too, Sarah. You have your dad’s eyes, like a little puppy dog’s when it’s begging for treats. I bet you get away with murder with eyes like that.”

Sarah shrugged with a giggle before her gaze sharpened. “So, I think that means you like my dad’s eyes. You said you’re not married. Do you have a boyfriend? Or a… a girlfriend?”

Goodness but this young girl was quick and, apparently, hyper-fixated on playing matchmaker for her dad. Your wide eyes softened as you realized how Joel was raising his daughter to be accepting and open-minded and your heart melted. He was a great dad.

“Nope, no boyfriends or girlfriends. I’ve been too focused on my work for a while,” you admitted. Before Sarah could pepper you with more questions, Joel entered the room, Barkley following right on his heels. Crinkles formed around his eyes with the brightness of his smile at the sight of the two of you huddled together on the couch.

“It’s stopped snowing. I promised Sarah we’d walk through town before we go home. Would you like to join us to see the town square all lit up?” he asked, hip propped against the arm of the sofa next to Sarah.

Reluctant at first, you gave in to the excitement in Sarah’s voice when she chimed in. “You must see the lights! And the tree! It’s so pretty!”

Bundled in borrowed mittens, coat, and scarf that carried the faint scent of fresh laundry, you followed Joel and Sarah outside into a winter wonderland. Barkley’s leash was clutched tightly in Sarah’s hand as he trotted beside her.

The town square looked like it had been plucked straight out of a holiday snow globe and you stared in awe. Strings of lights crisscrossed above the road, casting a warm glow over the dusting of snow remaining after the last plow went by. Shops selling hot cocoa and hand-knit scarves, pastries and baubles, lined the street, and a small choir sang carols by the towering Christmas tree adorned with ribbons, lights, and silver tinsel right in the heart of the square.

Sarah skipped ahead with Barkley, her boots making tiny impressions in the snow as she left the adults behind. Joel strolled beside you, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, shoulders slightly hunched against the cold as his warm eyes tracked his daughter’s movements. Every so often, his arm brushed yours, the accidental contact sending a surprising jolt of warmth through you each time.

Watching as Sarah danced around the choir as Barkley stood guard, movements perfectly in sync with the melody, you smiled. “She’s really something,” you said softly.

“She is,” Joel agreed, his voice tinged with pride. His coffee-colored eyes, full of thoughtful vulnerability, met yours. “I hit the damn jackpot as far as daughters go. Her, uh, mom passed away during childbirth. It’s been me and her against the world ever since.”

An involuntary gasp left your lips, and you gazed at him somberly. Not knowing what to say, you finally settled on a soft, “That must have been so hard.”

Joel nodded, his attempt at a smile falling short. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. There were so many days where I doubted myself, that I thought she’d be better off with someone else, someone who could give her everything she deserved, but… Tommy, the pain in the ass that he can be, was always there to help and talked sense into me. My parents too, while they were still alive. Soon enough, we found a rhythm and the rest is history. Now I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

Goodness, but this man was something and you would fall for him head over tea kettle if you weren’t careful… “You’re an amazing dad, Joel. I could tell the moment I met Sarah and saw you two interact. She’s lucky to have you as a father.”

“Naw, I’m the lucky one. That girl made me a better man, one to be proud of.” A shine took to his eyes, and you glanced away to give him a moment. Before long, Joel cleared his throat. His gaze shifted to you, his expression thoughtful. “I don’t think I said it before, but I’m glad we crossed paths today.”

You met his eyes, the soft light of the Christmas lights reflected in their warm brown depths. “Me, too,” you admitted, the barely whispered words carried by the gentle, crisp breeze between you.

“I don’t usually open up like that,” Joel confessed, suddenly bashful. “I don’t know what it is about you, but I find it really easy to talk to you.”

Warmth rushed your cheeks as you smiled back at him. “It’s all part of my mysterious charm. You Millers aren’t the only ones blessed with it.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” he teased back with a bark of laughter.

The following morning, you woke early missing the extra warmth Barkley provided as Joel took him home last night. Once you were up and moving, Maria offered to make you breakfast – as their only guest at the moment, she and Tommy catered to your every need – but you graciously declined, wanting to explore the town during daylight hours after the tranquil beauty of last night.

“Well, you’ll have to stop by the diner then, if you want some breakfast while you explore,” Tommy said. “It’s called Mac’s, but a woman named Tess owns it now.”

“She’s a close friend of the family, so is the cook, Frank. Joel’s known them forever,” Maria added. “They’ll take good care of you.”

“Yeah, they’re good people.” Tommy paused, his gaze thoughtful for a moment. “There was a time when we thought Tess and—”

“You should get going if you want to beat the rush,” Maria cut her husband off with a sharp glance. “It’s the only diner in town and gets real busy around this time.”

You glanced back and forth between the couple, feeling like you were missing something important – you reckoned it might have something to do with Joel, whatever Tommy was about to say about Tess – but opted to shrug it off. Wasn’t your business anyway.

“Ok, I’ll head to the diner first, then explore the town. Thank you again for dinner last night.” Donning the borrowed coat and scarf Maria insisted you wear, you waved goodbye to the couple and ventured outside.

The morning was sharp and bracing as you stepped out of the Evergreen House, your breath puffing in miniature clouds in front of you. The sun hung low in the sky, barely breaking over the mountains in the distance, pale light shimmering off a few inches of fresh snow blanketing the landscape. Winterland held a quiet charm in the early hours, with the faint sound of wind chimes and the crunch of boots on the snow as the townspeople walked by.

Only a block down from the inn, the diner sat in a squat, brick building with frosted windows artfully decorated for the holidays and an old, hand-painted sign that read Mac’s. The moment you pushed through the door, a bell jingled overhead, and a cozy warmth wrapped its grip around you. The air was a mix of scents – freshly brewed coffee, sizzling bacon, and the cloying sweetness of maple syrup – and the low hum of morning conversation carried through the seating area.

An attractive, tall woman with long hair and a keen gaze stood behind the counter. Judging by the nametag on her retro diner uniform, the woman was none other than Tess. She greeted you with a welcoming smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes and wiped her hands on the apron around her waist. “Well, you must be the new gal Maria told me about. Welcome to Winterland. Find yourself a seat anywhere you’d like, and I’ll be right with you.”

You slid onto a seat at the counter, the red vinyl worn but comfortable. At a nearby table, a man with brown hair and a thick beard scowled at his coffee like it personally wronged him. His presence practically radiated grumpiness, but it was somehow endearing in this environment.

“That’s Bill,” Tess whispered conspiratorially across the counter when she caught you observing the man. “Don’t mind him. He’s all bark and no bite.”

While she spoke, the cook stepped out from behind the pass – an older man with a kind face and mischievous smile – and said, “Speak for yourself, Tess. Last time I told him we were out of pie; he about bit my head off!”

“Shut it, Frank,” Bill growled from his table without looking up, earning a peal of laughter from Tess.

Frank winked at you as he returned to his station. “What’ll it be, darlin’? I make a mean French toast if you’re hungry.”

Before you could respond, Tess leaned on the counter and added, “And don’t forget to try the coffee. Best in town.”

“It’s the only coffee in town,” Bill grumbled unhelpfully.

The warmth of the place and friendly banter between locals was contagious. You ordered eggs benedict, your favorite, but opted for a diet cola instead of coffee. You watched as Frank worked the grill with lazy efficiency, bopping to the music softly playing from the overhead speakers. Between the homey atmosphere of the inn and now the diner, you felt like you were on holiday and momentarily forgot about the inconvenience of your broken-down truck.

Bill muttered something under his breath as Tess refilled his coffee. “You should smile more, Bill. It makes you look pretty,” she teased, plunking the pot of hot liquid on his table with a flourish.

“I’ll give you pretty,” Bill grumbled in return, but you caught the ghost of a smirk on his lips as Tess walked away.

Your breakfast was ready a few minutes later, the eggs poached perfectly and drizzled with just the right of hollandaise. You dug in, savoring the mix of flavors. “This is amazing,” you said. You meant it, too. You’d ordered eggs benedict at many a restaurant over the years and Frank’s was among the best.

“Frank’s a wizard with a griddle,” Tess replied, coming around the counter to plop down on the seat next to yours. “Time for a break, I think. He’s been keepin’ this town fed for years, long before I took over this place. And Bill over there? He’s been keepin’ that seat warm just as long.” Leaning a little closer, her voice dipped as she added, “I think he comes by just to see Frank. They’ve been sweet on each other for ages.”

Unsuspectingly, Frank piped up again. “Don’t let Bill fool you. He acts grumbly and tough, but he always leaves a big tip.”

“I’ll bet he does,” you teased, winking at Tess. You loved getting this kind of insight to the small-town life. The lighthearted banter and how seamlessly they included you made you feel like you really belonged. Suddenly, you could picture your life in a town like Winterland…

Shaking away the thought as a pipe dream, you finished your meal and turned back to Tess. “So, if you own the place, why is it called Mac’s Diner?”

Tess spun on the stool and glanced around the place. “Ah, well, it was my uncle’s diner. I worked here as a teenager and came back to help him as he got older. He passed last year and left the place to me. I tried many times over the years to convince him to do some updates, but he never did. And now I’m not sure how to make it my own without losing the parts that remind us all of him.”

“I can help you with that! I’m in marketing and work for a big firm back in New York City,” you explained. “I can give you a few tips and small changes that will make a big difference without taking away any of the original charm, starting with changing the name to something that resembles you.”

The pair of you chatted for a while, the breakfast rush coming and going as you brainstormed ideas. Once Tess had a solid to-do list, the conversation switched directions.

“So, Ms. Marketing Guru, what brought you to our delightful little hole in the wall?” Tess’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.

You told her about your cross-country trip, the fear of flying, the broken-down truck, and Joel’s help on the highway. At the mention of Joel, Tess’s expression turned dreamy, her smile almost knowing.

“Ah, Joel Miller,” she said, her tone full of hidden meaning. “He’s a good one. Lucky you ran into him.”

Having been completely enchanted by you, Frank chimed in from the grill with a cheeky grin. “Joel’s a real catch. The kind that would make you want to stick around if you hooked ‘em. No one’s been able to in a very long time, though many have tried.”

Warmth rushed your cheeks as you spluttered. “Oh no! It’s not like that.” Despite your insistence, it felt like an outright lie even to yourself.

“Uh huh,” Bill, Frank, and Tess all replied in perfect synchronicity.

The chill in the air deepened throughout the day and you were ready to defrost in front of a crackling fire after a thorough exploration of the quaint town. You arrived back at the inn to find a frazzled Maria staring at a slowly dying fire in the hearth, the rack for firewood next to her sat empty.

“What’s wrong?” you asked when Maria sighed dramatically.

“We’re completely out of firewood,” she said, gesturing toward the sad little fire. In a flustered ramble, she continued, “Joel’s been our go-to for years, and we usually stay well stocked, but it slipped our minds to get more this week. Now we have a new guest coming this evening and a million things to do and no wood left to keep the fireplaces going. I’d ask Joel to bring a load over, but he already does so much for us, I don’t want to burden him with this during the little free time he gets.”

“Oh, well, I can go,” you offered without hesitation, hating to see your new friend so stressed. “I mean, as long as you don’t mind me borrowing a truck, I’ve got plenty of free time and it’s not far, right?”

Maria’s face lit up with gratitude, warmth coming off her stronger than the dying fire. “Are you kiddin’? If you’re willing to help, of course you can borrow a truck. I’ll get you the keys.” She bounced off as you went up to your room to change into warmer clothes.

A few minutes later, you met at the bottom of the stairs. “You’re an angel, you know that? Just tell Joel I sent you over and he’ll know exactly what we need. Oh, and don’t let him talk you into lifting anything heavy!”

Bundled back into the loaner coat, scarf, and gloves, you set off toward the Millers’ farm in Tommy’s pickup. The heat took a while to kick in as you drove to the edge of the small town and turned onto a private road. The farmhouse and barn looked like something out of a storybook. Snow capped the red barn’s roof, and smoke curled in lazy whisps from the chimney of the house. The scent of woodsmoke and fresh hay filled the air when you opened the door, making the chill seem almost pleasant.

Joel was already outside by a neat stack of logs, axe in hand, splitting firewood with an ease that made the whole process look like second nature. Nearby, Sarah stood next to a preciously beautiful miniature horse, braiding its mane as her laughter rang out across the snow-covered fields. The little horse matched the girl’s laugh with a snort, and you smiled, completely enchanted with the entire scene.

“Hey darlin’,” Joel greeted with pleasant surprise as you approached, leaning on the handle of his axe. His dark eyes visibly warmed at the sight of you, and you felt a matching warmth pool deep in your belly.

“Hi Joel,” you replied softly. He looked good, really good, with flushed cheeks and wind-blown curls, brown eyes shining in the afternoon sunlight. You almost forgot why you were there. “Maria sent me to pick up some firewood. Guess we ran out?” you explained, gesturing toward the truck. “She said you’d know what to do.”

Joel huffed out a chuckle, setting the axe aside. “I reckon I do. Let me load up a pile for you. I’ll bring them another supply tomorrow morning.”

From the nearby pen, Sarah perked up, pausing mid-braid. “Wait! Don’t let her leave yet, Dad! We should give her a tour!”

Tilting his head in acquiescence toward Sarah, he turned to you with a playful grin. “What do you think, darlin’? Got a little time to spare?”

You hesitated for only a moment before nodding, lips curved up in a broad smile. “To see more of this beautiful place? You bet!”

Sarah practically bounced with excitement, tugging your hand to lead you toward the barn while her dad took a few minutes to load a pile of firewood into the bed of the truck. Soon enough, Joel joined you, guiding the sweet mini horse along with him. The barn doors creaked open to reveal a cozy, well-kept space where a row of horses shifted in their stalls, soft snickers filling the air. The earthy scent of hay mixed with the faint aroma of saddle leather and horse feed.

“This is Moonbeam,” Sarah announced as Joel ushered the chestnut mini horse toward its stall. “She’s my favorite. She lets me braid her mane every day.”

“She’s a beauty,” you said, stepping closer to stroke the mini horse’s velvet-soft nose. Moonbeam huffed gently, her large eyes calm as she nudged your hand, seeking more gentle pets.

While Joel secured Moonbeam in her stall, Sarah steered you further down the line of stalls until you came to a large, sleek black horse. “This is Daddy’s horse. His name is Onyx.”

The large horse popped his head over the top of the stall, checking you out with unguarded curiosity. He was breathtakingly beautiful. You held out a hand, palm up, allowing Onyx to snuffle at your skin. He nudged your hand, urging you to pet him, which you gladly did.

“You’re a gorgeous boy,” you whispered to the horse. Much like your dad, echoed silently in your mind. As you stepped back from Onyx, ready to continue the tour, Barkley trotted into the barn and rushed over to greet you. Bending down, you ruffled the golden retriever’s ears, pressing your face against his soft fur. “Where’d you come from, huh? Were you on patrol, keeping an eye on the place?”

Joel leaned against the stall door, watching you with quiet wonder. “You’re good with animals,” he noted. “First my dog and now my horses are falling in love with you.”

You glanced at him, a little thrill sparking at the compliment. “It’s my animal magnetism,” you joked lightly.

Sarah stood beside you, her baby cow eyes darting back and forth between you and her dad, a secret smile curling her lips. Without a word, she began leading you out of the barn with the intention of continuing the tour. However, when you all exited the barn, the sun had dipped low behind the mountains, and the air turned even frostier than before.

“I think it’s time for me to get back to the inn with the firewood,” you said, the disappointment in your voice matched Sarah’s falling expression. “It’s getting late, and Maria said there are new guests coming. She’ll want to get the fireplaces sorted before they arrive.”

“But we haven’t finished the tour! There’s so much more to see!” Sarah exclaimed, one foot stomping on the ground in frustration.

“Sarah, mind your manners,” Joel reminded the young girl in a gently stern voice, watching as her bottom lip stuck out in a pout. Turning to you, he added, “We’ll walk you back to the truck.”

Joel led the way, and you looked over your shoulder, watching Barkley nudge Sarah as she scuffed her boots across the ground unhappily. You felt bad for the young girl, knowing how excited she was to show you everything.

“She really likes you,” Joel said, voice a deep rumble over the wind, when he caught you watching his daughter. “Hasn’t stopped talking about you since meeting you. In fact, it seems my whole family is quite taken with you.”

You quirked an eyebrow playfully. “Is that so? And what about you, Joel Miller?”

He glanced away briefly, curls dancing in the wind, before meeting your gaze with a soft, vulnerable smile. “Oh, I’m definitely taken with you, too, darlin’.”

You reached the driver’s side of the truck before you could formulate a suitably charming response and settled for a simple, grateful goodbye. Sarah darted forward to hug you, Joel watching with a warm gaze.

“Thanks for the tour of the barn, little bug,” you spoke into her hair as you bent slightly to return the hug, and the girl beamed at the new nickname.

“Why don’t you come back again in the morning and we’ll finish the tour,” Joel suggested, suddenly feeling that same disappointment as his daughter at the idea of you leaving. “I’ll pick you up around eight when I drop off another load of firewood.”

Sarah bounced in place, hands pressed together and begging you to agree. You stood up straight, eyes darting between Joel’s dark coffee ones. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to be in the way or interrupt your day.”

“I’m sure,” Joel insisted. “We’d love to have you over again. Maybe you could stay for lunch?”

“And maybe we can go sledding! There’s a big hill over there,” Sarah pointed to a slope in the distance eagerly. “Please?”

How could you possibly say no to not just one, but two sets of baby cow eyes staring pleadingly at you?

“Okay, if you’re both sure, I’d be happy to.”

After another round of goodbyes, the Millers watched as you climbed into the truck and drove off, waving with broad smiles the whole time.

tbc

tag list (i included anyone who previously commented, requested, or I thought might like to be added, but please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @abirdsnest @brittmb115 @harrysrosetatto @carolineesnell @tuquoquebrute @inept-the-magnificent @lovely-vamp-princess @kyberblade

#hallmark christmas movie inspired #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff #fluff and humor #ppcu fanfiction #hallmark!joel

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