Christmas Feast
25 Days of Ficmas
Relationship: Ryan Baker x Reader
Fandom: Thanksgiving (2023)
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff
Word Count: 1,823
Main Masterlist: Here
Horror Masterlist: Here
Summary: After a long month of parties, eating, and festivities, the grand culmination has arrived!
Consider Donating: Here
Ryan was pacing the foyer of his girlfriend’s home. Her parents, out of town. His family, welcoming her with open arms to their celebrations instead. He checked his watch for the third time in five minutes. “Baby, if you’re not in the living room in one minute, I’m leaving without you and taking your final present with me.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming! Jeez, just needed to grab my lipgloss.” Her boots clicked down the stairs.
He held his chest as he dramatically fell against the wall, clutching his chest with a groan. Her legs were in those fleece tights, but his eyes trailed up regardless, to the little peppermint and cookie covered skirt that hit just above her knees. Tucked into the waistband, a cozy knit sweater, covering her neck. Her Sherpa coat was already partially zipped. “My God, someone needs to call an ambulance. I think I’ve gone into cardiac arrest.”
“Ryan, you’re being dramatic,” she chuckled with a blush painting her cheeks.
But as soon as she made it down, his hands immediately went to her waist, his body curling around hers like an overgrown koala. Her giggles rang out as his nose nuzzled against her neck, and his hands traced over every inch that he could. “Oh my goodness, I think I’m going to die. I think you killed me, baby. You look so fantastic.”
“Well that wouldn’t make a good impression on your mother if I killed her baby before meeting the rest of the family. Do you think she’ll like what we got her?” Of course, she was referring to the gift bag waiting in Ryan’s car.
Their trip to the mall resulted in the entire backseat of Ryan’s vehicle being covered in presents for his family. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and of course, his own parents. Finally resuming his usual stance over her, towering in all six-foot-three of him, he grinned down at her sweetly, kissing her forehead. “She’ll love it. Everyone will love their presents, baby. Now, can we go so I don’t hear a lecture about time from said mother, little lamb?”
“Oh alright,” her groan and eye roll made Ryan pinch her side. He really had to work for it to get through all the layers.
“Hey, don’t you roll your eyes at me!” There was no malice in his voice, just a chuckle blanketing the scold.
Before either one could start up again, Ryan grabbed her hand, pulling her out into the snow and cold. He got her door, and ramped up the heat. As they drove, he put the Christmas station on, and kept a hand on her somewhere; whether her thigh or her hand.
The jewelry box was burning a hole in his coat pocket. Whenever they stopped at a red light, he would pat it, making sure that it was, indeed, still there. But he would make sure that her eyes were elsewhere when he did— Ryan refused to spoil the surprise before they made it to his parents’ home.
“Ma! Pa! You guys here or what?” Ryan called out, stepping inside the home.
He helped his girlfriend out of her coat, right as he saw his mother rounding the corner, wiping her hands on her apron. “Oh, Ryan, you’re home! Jack, Ryan’s home! And this must be the lovely lady my son hasn’t been able to stop talking about all year.”
He made the introduction between his mother and lover, providing her balance as she took off her shoes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Baker. Um, we brought you this. Ry, where’s the bag?”
As soon as his hands were free from taking off his own coat and shoes, he grabbed the bag from the stairs. Ryan passed the bag to his girlfriend and watched her hands shake just a bit as she gave it to his mom. Neither noticed him slip a box into his pants pocket. The older woman smiled happily as she dug through the tissue paper to get at the small box inside.
“Oh, it’s wonderful. Who told you?” In her hands was a box of artisanal caramels.
She shrugged, pointing to the man behind her. “Ry told me about how you would get those mystery boxes of chocolates to enjoy around Christmas. How you guys would guess and make bets on what the filling was. We thought that this would be something nice and unique but along the same vein.”
Ryan, with a smirk, wrapped his arms around his girlfriend. “Don’t listen to her. She thought of the caramels on her own. I did no such helping.”
“Well, we’re just about to sit down to eat. Come on into the dining room and you can meet everyone.” She grabbed Ryan’s hand as they followed his mom through the foyer. His immediate family, she had met already. But the extensions were another ball park entirely for her.
Ever the gentleman, Ryan pulled her chair out for her, and made sure she was settle before sitting directly next to her. The sheer volume of people did not strike her as odd, even though she stopped counting at a dozen. Most people, mostly just the younger children, were eating at a separate table that was set up for them in the living room.
But the food? That was a spectacle to behold.
Sides of all sorts; mashed potatoes with gravy, peas and carrots, green beans, salads, and at least two types of casseroles. Though what they were exactly, she did not know. Rolls in two different baskets on opposite ends. And smack dab in the middle was a beautiful honey glazed ham.
Everything was steaming, perfectly crisped, or creamy like a dream. She tugged on Ryan’s shirt, leaning in to whisper, “this is so much food. How do you even eat? How do you get food?”
He leaned in close to whisper back, “I’ll take care of you, baby. Don’t worry about it.”
And she did not have to worry. Because each time a dish was passed around, he would pile her plate up with whatever she wanted, then fill his before moving on. Even if she was hesitant on something, Ryan would just add half an extra scoop to his plate, just in case she wanted to try some without committing to having it on her plate.
Each time, she would whisper her thanks, and kiss his cheek. Each time, he would welcome the kiss, and ask what she wanted next. This does not even cover when she started to eat.
The food was immaculate. It looked just as good as it tasted; it may have tasted even better than it looked which was somehow possible. A wonderful blend of sweet and savory continuously flooded her nostrils. She stayed quiet, savoring each bite, but still listening to the conversation around her.
However, she offered her compliments to Ryan’s mom as soon as she had tasted a bite of everything on her plate.
Much like in the car, Ryan kept a hand on his girlfriend’s thigh, rubbing soothing circles into the fabric across her skin. He beamed when she relaxed. He relaxed when she giggled at his dumb jokes.
Sooner than she would have liked, she was positively stuffed with dinner, leaning back into her seat and rubbing her stomach. Ryan slung his arm around the back of her chair, pressing a kiss to her hair while he mirrored her position. His attention was pulled from the discussion about boating trips for next year that had captivated his older cousins, uncle, and father, when he felt her hand squeeze his thigh.
“Please tell me I can come to next Christmas. I think this is the best food I’ve ever had.” His girlfriend whispered.
Ryan just chuckled, and kissed her head. “I sure hope you’re coming to next Christmas dinner.”
“Alright, everyone,” Mrs. Baker called through the dining room across to the living room where the littlest cousins and their parents were, “rinse off plates in the sink, into the dishwasher, then dessert.”
Everyone began moving around, except her. Not for lack of trying. Instead because Ryan put his hands on her shoulder and gave her a pointed look that kept her from lifting a finger. He grabbed their plates, glasses, and utensils, taking them into the kitchen while she just sat there.
When everyone moved to the living room, Ryan came back with a handful of cookies in a little dish and two glasses of milk to wash them down with. Yet, he did not lead them to the couch or chairs that were being taken fast.
“Come on, this is my favorite spot.” He murmured in her ear, bringing them to right beside the tree, with his back against the brick of the fireplace.
There was an amazing warmth that seeped through their bones from the spot. She helped him sit, taking the drinks while he got comfy. His legs opened up and he welcomed her back against his chest. As soon as she sat down, he took the drinks and put them to the side, opposite of the fire of course.
“I wanna have you do your last gift first,” came his murmur as he pulled the box from his pocket.
Her eyes sparkled something fierce as she tore through the paper, and opened the long package. The gasp that came from her lips was worth every penny he spent on that fire opal, rose gold necklace.
“Oh, Ry. This is gorgeous. Thank you.” She turned, kissing him deeply. When they parted, she eagerly got the necklace from the box, holding it towards her boyfriend. “Put it on me?”
Who was he to deny her request? His fingers messed with the clasp for just a moment as he secured it around her neck. Ryan could not help himself and pressed a kiss to the back of her neck.
“Okay, open mine.” She was, somehow, more excited for this than hers.
It was a tiny box, not something large. It looked like a ring box. And when he opened it, he realized that it was. Inside, a beautiful ring that shone with a dulled sparkle that only vintage rings can.
“It’s a Victorian onyx ring someone found back in the eighties right here in Plymouth, at that park we had our first date in. Had video of them finding it and everything. It’s authentic. Figured you might like some history.” She explained, watching him closely.
“Baby, this is perfect.” Ryan hugged her close, pulling away just enough to kiss her gently, yet passionately. He messed with the ring placement once they disengaged, trying to find the perfect finger to house it. It wound up on his right ring finger.
“Have you have a good Christmas, little lamb?” Ryan brought a cookie to her lips.
She took a bite, and pressed a sugary kiss to his lips before settling against his chest again. “The best, Ry.”
