#also if anyone couldn't tell Jake is my bastard babygirl

[topherwrites]

omg I HAVE to ask about 'tis the damn season and two slow dancers (last ones out) because those are two of my FAVORITE songs!!

also ik you already talked about the while you were sleeping au but i just wanna say that i am sooo excited for it bc it's one of my comfort movies and ive seen it like a billion times <3 i cant wait to see what you do with it

a mitski or taylor title will always slap.

So, 'tis the damn season is a brother's best friend fic. Jake grew up poor and his mother died when he was young, leaving him with his asshole of a father.

Reader's family is very rich, like owning oil fields in Texas rich. Jake and her brother, Ian, were on the same pewee football team as kids and quickly became inseparable, their house always a refuge for him, especially during the holidays.

Jake, after not being able to make it for the holidays for the past few years due to not being able to get time off or being deployed, is bullied by Ian to come. This year the reader's parents are renting a lodge for the entire extended family in a made up skiing town in Colorado.

The reader is spending the holidays single, she has a (ex?)boyfriend she's taking some time apart from after a failed proposal where she told him she 'had to think about it'.

There's been a low simmering tension betweeen them for a number of years, that with her being newly single and Jake being Jake begins to come to a boil. They keep getting just a brush away from kissing—until they finally do.

And then... her boyfriend shows up uninvited. She tries to pretend like nothing happened between her and Jake, which annoys the shit out of him.

And they have to navigate family and insecurites and wants and needs all under a deadline—both of you are flying back to opposite sides of the country on January first.

here's one snippet under the cut and the pinterest board:

“My aunts hit on you yet?” He clicks his tongue. “One out of four so far. Nights still young.” You shrug, throwing back the last swig in your glass, “Or maybe you're losing your touch.”

and here's another, because i'm super excited about this fic.

With your head settled comfortably in his lap, he inquires, “Where's that boyfriend of yours?” “Uh, not, here.” You're quiet for a moment, a pinch to your brow and your lip tucked between your teeth. Clearly uncomfortable, not necessarily by him asking the question but by the memory it recalls. You release it with a sigh, “He proposed.” There’s an odd stirring in his chest, “Oh?” His hand drifts, thumb driving into the muscles below your ear. You let out a soft sigh, eyelashes fluttering, your body comfortably settling at the touch. He assumes why you're sans boyfriend, “And you said no.” It’s sort of a surprise, you don't really seem like the kind of girl who would not know whether you wanted to marry someone after three years, you also don't seem like the kind of girl who turns down proposals. You'd say yes just to keep everyone happy, especially your parents. Your eyes drift back open, yet you don't make eye contact, “No, I said I had to think about it.” “And?” “And… I'm thinking about it.” You take a swig off the bottle, settling your head back down into his hold.  “The sex is bad,” you blurt. It sounds like something you've been mulling over for a long time, the words worn smooth in your head, but it also sounds like you're trying to shove them back in as they come out.

two slow dancers (last ones out) is a second chance romance. The reader has finally filed for divorce from Jake after being estranged for three years because he reenlisted without telling her.

here's a snippet from a very rough draft:

With his hands bunched in the back of your shirt, he tugs, creating breathing room.  “I dont want to fuck you in the driveway.” He also doesn’t really want to fuck you in the shitbox place he’s renting. He wants to fuck you in your house, in your bed. He wants the things you shared to be the both of yours again. He's almost entirely sure that's never going to happen, he's fucked this beyond repair, so he’s smart enough to take what you offer him. You nod. He slides out of the car, a hand on your back and under your ass to steady you. He tosses you over his shoulder, hopping up the steps, carrying you to the door. Leaving one hand hooked over your thighs to keep you steady, he unlocks the front door, his other hand shakes as he fits the key into the lock. An image, now made bitter, of him doing the very same when you bought that big blue house together flashes through both of your minds. So many years younger then, so many older now. He feels ill, and can imagine you feel the same. You smack his back, your voice losing any playful or heady quality, “Put me down.”

thank you for the ask and your kind words!!