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intheticklecloset · 1 year ago

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Redeemed (Junjou Romantica)

Summary: After a fight, Usagi is overly apologetic and Misaki is beginning to feel guilty. But then Usagi gives him a coupon book for personal favors, and he gets an idea...

A/N: This is a fic I wrote for the one and only @otomiya-tickles several months ago. It was originally going to be part of the 12 Days of Ficmas last year, but when that didn't happen I decided to write it just as a special gift. I've finally decided to share it with the rest of you as well. (This was also the first fic I wrote after...certain events.) Hope you enjoy. <3

Word Count: 2,642

~~~

This coupon book was ridiculous, but it had been given to him with good intentions and a sincere apology behind it, so Misaki sighed resignedly and flipped open to the first ticket, beginning to read.

One free massage. One day without interruption. Wow, really? One fancy dinner of choice. One shopping trip. One…

The list went on and on, each page more intriguing and confusing than the last. Misaki felt his heart warming. He appreciated that Usagi seemed genuinely remorseful for what he’d done the other night – forcing himself on him so much the younger boy cried for an hour straight, feeling violated and unsafe in their shared home – but this almost felt…too much.

Then he flipped to the last five pages of the small coupon book, wrinkling his brow when he saw that they were blank. It took him a few moments to notice the small text at the bottom of the page:

Write-in. Whatever you want, I’ll do it for you, Misaki. I love you.

Misaki’s heart officially melted.

It was almost too bad that Usagi was out of the apartment right now. He felt as though he could go to the man this instant, wrap him in a hug, whisper that he’d been forgiven. Really, he’d been forgiven before the coupon book was even handed to him – his partner’s profuse apologies upon seeing his tears had been enough, even if they hadn’t felt enough in the moment. But now he felt their roles had been reversed, that he needed to go and comfort his boyfriend this time.

Well, he could cook them a nice dinner and they could have that conversation later. For now, Misaki put the coupon book back in his pocket and flopped sideways on the couch, curling up comfortably, mind swimming with possibilities.

Of course he would use the write-in space – it was too good to pass up. But what could he ask for that hadn’t already been offered to him in a different coupon? He could always ask for another full day of no interruptions if he wanted. That was truly beneficial to him on several levels and appealed to him the most out of everything he saw. An opportunity to get his work done without being snatched away for a spontaneous makeout session or tickling? That would be amazing.

Wait.

Misaki’s eyes flew wide open. No. No way. I get enough of that already – I can’t ask him to—

But he was already searching for a pen, heart hammering in his chest.

After all the apologies and all the thoughtful coupons, truly, this was the least he could do to meet Usagi halfway. Pen now in hand, he clicked it open and shakily began to write in his first request.

The door to their apartment clicked open. Misaki glanced up from where he was making dinner at the stove and smiled shyly. “Welcome back.”

Usagi hung up his coat and removed his gloves, maintaining uncertain eye contact with him the entire time. “Thank you.”

Things hadn’t felt this awkward between them in a long time, and Misaki was determined not to let it last. “Did you have a good day?”

“I did.” The older man approached the kitchen cautiously, like he was afraid of spooking his partner. “Did you?”

Misaki smiled genuinely then, remembering the coupons, thinking of the one in his pocket he intended to hand his boyfriend after dinner. “Yes.”

Usagi nodded. “Good.”

There was a beat of silence, then the younger man couldn’t help but chuckle a little. “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?”

Usagi blinked, then seemed to relax, sauntering around the counter to meet him and pull him gently into his arms, kissing his lips tenderly, with none of the harsh determination he usually exhibited. “Hello, my love.”

“Mmn.” Misaki groaned, pulling away when he heard the contents of his pot about to boil over. “All right, that’s enough. Go sit down; I’ll bring you a plate.”

The older man opened his mouth – probably to protest that he could do it himself – then seemed to think better of it and did as he was told for a change. Misaki smiled to himself, turning off the burner and stirring up the last of their dinner before reaching for two plates out of the cupboards overhead. Usagi was kind of cute when he was being docile, though he knew that once that coupon was out of his pocket and in his boyfriend’s hands, that would end quickly.

Dinner was uneventful, if a bit strained on Usagi’s part. Clearly he was still feeling badly for how he’d behaved before; his conversations were empty of their usual teasing cadence and flirting comments. He was polite, interested, and tame.

Misaki couldn’t wait to get him back on track.

When they’d finished eating, Misaki glanced at the clock. Half an hour, he decided. That’s what they say for swimming, right? I’ll wait half an hour and then give him the coupon.

In the meantime they migrated to the living room after putting the leftovers away for tomorrow. Usagi seemed relieved when his boyfriend sat beside him on the sofa, cuddling into his side like he did when he wanted comfort or affection.

“How did you like your coupons?” Usagi asked him after a while, voice soft.

Misaki tensed at first – thinking of the one in his pocket – then remembered that wasn’t one of those that Usagi offered and relaxed again, humming contentedly. “They were really thoughtful. I appreciate it, Usagi-san.”

“Any that caught your eye?”

“One day without interruption?” Misaki said, voice teasing. “Can you really do that?”

“For you, I can do anything.”

At this, the younger boy lifted his head and looked at his boyfriend, surprised to see how serious Usagi was about this. He felt himself melt again, though this time it came with a pang of guilt. He was definitely feeling too badly about what had happened for too long. He glanced at the clock. Forget the half hour – he had to do this now.

Misaki shifted, throwing a leg over Usagi’s lap. The older man looked surprised in the split second it took the brunette to lean down and kiss him. After a long moment strong hands wrapped around him, pulling him closer, holding him almost reverently.

“I’m sorry, Misaki,” he murmured for what felt like the hundredth time since that night a few days ago. “I know I can be pushy, but I never meant to hurt you—”

“I forgive you, Usagi-san,” Misaki whispered into another kiss, reaching into his back pocket. “In fact, I’d…I’d like to redeem one of those coupons now, if I can.”

Usagi pulled back, eyes darting to the paper in his boyfriend’s hands. “Of course. Whatever you want, my love. My Misaki.”

Misaki whimpered at the endearment, blushing as he held out the coupon. Usagi took it and angled it until he could read it.

“Oh, one of the write-ins?” he mused, then fully took in what the words said and what they meant. He blinked. He glanced at his partner. “Oh?”

“Don’t ‘oh’ me!” Misaki protested, shoving at his chest lightly, feeling heat rising in his cheeks.

“Are you trying to tell me something?”

“N-No! I mean…” The brunette hesitated, certain he wouldn’t even be allowed an explanation before he was attacked, but surprisingly, Usagi was sitting there patiently, watching him, waiting for him to speak. Misaki whimpered again, averting his eyes. “I don’t…don’t entirely hate it, you know? Just…maybe we can have a safe word this time?”

Usagi’s curious look gradually shifted into a sly grin that made Misaki’s heart race. He tossed the coupon aside and pulled him in closer, earning a squeak in response. “What word would that be, my little tickle toy?”

That did it. Misaki covered his face with both hands and flopped into Usagi’s chest, groaning. “Don’t call me that! It’s embarrassing!”

“Answer me, Misaki.”

He whined. “I-I don’t know…why not the same one we use in the bedroom?”

“Because I want a different one for this.”

Of course he did! “Fine! You pick one, then.”

At this, Usagi gripped his waist tightly and got to his feet, hoisting him over his shoulder and beginning to trek upstairs. “You’re the one who will be laughing himself silly. You decide.”

Misaki’s eyes widened. He knew – he knew they’d be doing this now, but still! He gripped Usagi’s sweater and yelped, “W-Wait!”

“You wrote it,” the older man said matter-of-factly, swinging their bedroom door shut behind them, plunging them into darkness without bothering to turn on the light. “You wanted this.” He tossed Misaki onto the bed, making the smaller boy squeal and start giggling already even though he hadn’t been touched yet. Usagi loomed over him, and the brunette could tell he was smirking even though he couldn’t see him perfectly. “Choose a safe word, Misaki.”

“P-Purple,” Misaki stammered, not at all sure why that was the only word that came to mind in the heat of this moment. He shrank back on the bed, arms glued to his sides preemptively.

Usagi chuckled. “Purple it is.”

“Eeek!” Misaki cried when his boyfriend pried his legs open to sit between them, leaving his thighs vulnerable to the first tickles, which came swiftly once their word had been established. “Ehehehehehe wahahahahahait! Wait, I d-dihihihihidn’t have tihihihime to gehehehehet reheheheheady!”

“Did you need time?” Usagi teased, amused by his partner’s weak attempts to swat at his hands. “Would it really have helped you?”

“Shuhuhuhuhuhut up!”

“So, tell me, my love. What inspired you to use one of your write-in coupons for this?”

Misaki desperately wanted to cover his face despite it already being dark in here. “I tohohohold you alreheheheheady!”

“Explain it to me again.”

“Jeheheheheherk!” Misaki whined, bucking his hips with a near scream when Usagi moved up to pinch his hipbones in warning. “Okahahahahay, okay! I l-lihihihihike it, kihihihihind of! A lihihihihittle bit!”

Usagi hummed. “Like it how?”

It took a moment for the younger man to process what the question meant in his ticklish haze, though thankfully his partner had moved up to his sides instead of his death spot. “Nohohohohot like thahahahat, you pehehehervert! Just for fuhuhuhuhuhun!”

“All right,” Usagi chuckled, shoving his hands under Misaki’s clothes to get to the bare skin beneath. “But don’t think that means I won’t try this in the bedroom, too. Just to experiment.”

Misaki couldn’t even bring himself to protest or fight back; he was too lost to his giggles already. It had only been a few days, but he didn’t realize until now how much he’d desperately missed Usagi being on top of him, making him squirm and let out involuntary noises that embarrassed him beyond belief.

And really, after how tense and awkward things had been between them since that night, seeing the outline of his boyfriend’s happy grin made all of this worth it.

“Tickle, tickle, tickle,” Usagi teased, fingers scribbling and scratching at his sides and tummy. “Look at you squirm, Misaki~ Does it tickle here? What about here?” He darted up to his underarms without warning, earning a loud shriek and even harder giggles, legs kicking the air but doing him no good with the way they were positioned. “I’ve missed your laugh, my love. It’s been a while since I’ve tickled you, hasn’t it? Were you missing it, Misaki?”

“Stahahahahahahap!” Misaki pleaded, tossing his body this way and that, going nowhere fast and feeling a little thrill from the knowledge. “Quit teheheheheheasing me!”

Usagi leaned down to bite his earlobe playfully, fingers digging harder into his armpits while his body pinned the smaller boy to the bed so he could hardly move at all. “Never.”

“Ahahahahahahahaha! Usahahahahahagi-sahahahahahan!” Misaki cackled, throwing his head back with waves of mirth, the reality of his situation sinking in more and more the longer he felt those strong, singing, unbearable sensations wrack his body. “Plehehehehehehease!”

“Please what? Use your words.”

“Jeheheheherk! It tihihihihihihickles! Please, it tihihihickles so bahahahahad!”

“Does it?~”

“Mohohohohove somewhere ehehehehehelse!” Misaki begged, frantically trying to dislodge his boyfriend’s fingers from his underarms. “Plehehehehease, new spohohohohohot!”

“Oh? Would you prefer if I tickled you…here?” Usagi’s fingers moved down to his ribs, pressing and digging into each one, clawing and raking and drilling in rapid succession that left Misaki near breathless with hysterical giggling. “You do seem to like it here, don’t you, tickle toy?”

Misaki cursed, surprising and pleasing Usagi immensely. “Stahahahahahap with that crahahahap! Don’t call me thahahahahahat!”

“Tickle toy,” Usagi chuckled darkly, still pinning him in place with his body. “You just want to laugh so loud for me, don’t you? Laugh and squirm and kick and beg me to stop? Hmm, tickle toy?”

Misaki dissolved into silent laughter at the incessant teasing, shaking his head, mirthful tears springing to his eyes. “Plehehehehehease!” he wheezed, barely able to catch his breath. “Dohohohohon’t!”

Usagi seemed to sense he needed a moment, so he sat back up and slowed his tickling to a light tracing along his body, up and down his chest, digging in randomly just to watch the brunette jolt and giggle helplessly.

“You’re mehehehean, Usagi-sahahan.”

“I rather think you like it.” The older man went back down to his thighs, pinching in tandem with his teasing intonation of, “Mi-sa-ki.”

Misaki tossed his head back, spewing even more giggles, wiping a tear from his cheek. “Mehehehean.”

Usagi grinned at him, gently pushing his legs down flat on the mattress so he could straddle them, unbuttoning his boyfriend’s jeans. “Relax,” he said when he got a wide-eyed, horrified look from the younger man. “I’m not doing anything like that. Just getting easier access.”

Misaki’s eyes only went wider at that comment. He smiled wobbily, knowing full well what was coming next. “Wait!”

“Nope.”

“But it tickles so bad—!”

“I know.”

“No! Wahahahahahait!” Misaki squealed, then screamed full-on when Usagi’s thumbs pressed into those super sensitive spots along his hips where they met his thighs. He arched his back and yelled his ticklish agony into the air, and not for the first time he wished he had a way to cover himself up, this time to muffle what had to sound like him being murdered horrifically. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO!! NOT THAHAHAHAHAHAHAT, USAGI-SAHAHAHAHAHAN!!”

“But I love hearing you scream and laugh like this,” Usagi replied reasonably, drilling his thumbs in deep, adoring the way Misaki’s body thrashed beneath him at the simple touch, shrieks and curses and loud, desperate laughter filling the air around them.

“STOPSTOPSTOHOHOHOHOHOHOP IT PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! PLEASE USAGI-SAHAHAHAHAHAN!! NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Usagi chuckled, shifting just slightly downward toward the ultimate prize, smirking when Misaki’s laughter when silent a second time, wheezes and gasps for breath replacing the ear-piercing noises he’d been letting out moments before. He didn’t stay there long, thankfully, lightening his touch and scribbling gently over his belly, swirling into his navel a few times as Misaki panted for air, his giggles having turned whiny and exhausted.

“Purple?” the older man asked, checking in. It was clear he was trying not to go too far again, and for that reason alone, Misaki felt like he could withstand a little more, his love for his partner swelling up inside him twice as much as usual.

“No,” he replied breathlessly, even going so far as to pull his own shirt up further, exposing more of his bare torso for Usagi to tickle. “Not yet.”

Usagi looked both elated and touched. He leaned over him again, kissing him so hard Misaki saw stars. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Misaki replied just before being sent back into a world of ticklish bliss, giggling and squirming uselessly on their shared mattress, loving the feeling of Usagi’s hands on him, making him melt, making him submit as he always did.

It was good to have him back.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #junjou romantica #usagi x misaki #misaki takahashi #usami akihiko #boyfriends #lovers #tickling #ticklish #tickle

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winter-dayz · 11 months ago

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Anonymous

Pairing: Hwang Yeji x Reader Secret Santa Genre: Fluff Words: 856

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist: @soobin-chois

You had absolutely no idea what you were going to get Yeji for Christmas. You had hoped to get literally anyone else for your work’s game of Secret Santa, but there you were walking around the mall looking for a gift for the girl you’d been crushing on for months now.

Feeling the pressure of finding the perfect gift for Yeji, you wandered through the bustling mall, desperately trying to come up with ideas. Your mind raced with thoughts of what might impress her and make her finally notice your feelings.

You decided to stop by a trendy boutique, thinking that a sweater or scarf might be a safe bet. The store was filled with stylish options but nothing seemed quite right. You mulled over the choices, uncertain about how your fashion tastes compared to hers.

After some contemplation, you decided to take a different approach. You remembered Yeji mentioning her love for music and how she enjoyed discovering new artists. This sparked an idea, and you headed to a nearby music store. As you browsed through the CDs and vinyl records, you stumbled upon an album from one of her favorite bands.

Passing by a jewelry store, you noticed a dainty necklace in the window. You couldn’t help but picture Yeji in it and the next thing you knew, you were exiting the store with another gift in hand.

🎄

Suddenly, you were thankful you’d gotten another gift at the mall the other day. As you worked on a last minute project at your desk, you overheard how Yeji had received the vinyl album from a friend the other day and she absolutely loved it.

Which was good and bad because it meant you actually did do a great job at shopping, but also sucked because it meant that it was no longer a viable gift option. The office Christmas party was later that night, and although the necklace was lovely, you worried it wasn’t enough.

On your lunch break, you found a nearby store and wasted thirty minutes of precious eating time on trying to find a replacement gift. You aimlessly wandered the store, searching for anything that would be good enough.

Just as you were prepared to give up and leave, you came across a set of stuffed alpacas that just somehow made sense.

🎄

You sat in the parking lot of your work, trying to neatly wrap the gifts inside the tight confines of your car. You’d clasped the necklace around one of the alpacas and settled for using a gift bag and tissue. You wrote a quick, sweet, anonymous message on the card.

It took you another twenty minutes to work up the nerve to go inside.

As you entered the office Christmas party, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nervous excitement. The festive atmosphere enveloped the room with colorful decorations and holiday music. Spotting the beautifully adorned Christmas tree, you carefully placed your gift underneath, making sure it blended in with the others.

You kept an eye out for Yeji, too nervous to talk to her yet. When they announced it was time to open gifts, you felt like you could throw up in anticipation. It was finally her turn; you held your breath, hoping the alpaca and necklace combo would bring a smile to her face.

Yeji opened the gift, and a look of delighted surprise crossed her face as she pulled out the alpacas. She giggled about how cute they were, holding one under each arm. The small, fluffy creatures seemed to captivate her, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Then, her gaze shifted to the necklace, and her eyes widened in appreciation. You noticed a hint of a blush on her cheeks, and your heart skipped a beat.

The party continued with laughter, music, and festivities. You found yourself engaged in conversations, trying to act casual, all the while stealing glances at Yeji from across the room. The knowledge that you had managed to find something that she appreciated filled you with a warm sense of accomplishment. You watched with adoration as she carried around one of the alpacas tucked under her arm.

🎄

When the night drew to a close, you debated whether to reveal yourself as her Secret Santa. However, the anonymity added an extra layer of excitement to the whole experience. You decided to cherish the moment, savoring the fact that you had made her Christmas a little brighter without her knowing.

You paused as you were about to enter your car, noticing a note tucked into the driver’s window. You plucked it from its temporary home and opened it up.

“Thank you for the gifts, Y/N. I know you were trying to keep it anonymous, but I couldn’t pretend like I didn’t recognize your handwriting. Merry Christmas and call me - ♥️ ###-####”

Your heart pounded inside your chest, and you glanced around. Across the parking lot, Yeji smiled brightly as she entered her car. She waved slightly and then drove off. You stood shocked for a moment longer before getting in your own car and heading home.

#itzy #hwang yeji #reader #hwang yeji x reader #itzy x reader #fluff #secret santa #oneshot #ficmas

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years ago

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day 11 - i’m dreaming of a white christmas - bradley “rooster” bradshaw

a/n: i call this “kylie takes a plot of a christmas movie and does whatever she damn well pleases with it”. this has been a many weeks labor of love and is probably one of my top 3 pieces from ficmas so i truly hope you enjoy!! :)

summary: (white christmas!au) Years after the legendary Tom “Iceman” Kazansky retired from the Navy after a truly horrible accident, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw finds himself following his recently reconciled godfather, Pete “Maverick” Mitchell to the far remote corners of Vermont to visit an old friend.

He doesn’t anticipate meeting the notorious Iceman, whose legacies still stretch far and wide throughout the Navy, nor Iceman’s equally captivating civilian daughter.

What begins as a trip to continue to mend and repair his relationship with his once estranged godfather turns into a scheme to push his godfather towards happiness while maybe finding some of his own along the way.

In other words, the White Christmas!au no one but me asked for.

12 days of ficmas | main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: swearing, kissing, fluffy fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, did i mention there’s fluff, mentions of depression, mentions of cancer, a dash of angst like the way all things in life should be, misunderstandings, minor Icemav, no mentions of Sarah Kazansky or Penny Benjamin, Bradley’s Bronco is invincible atp, kylie writes slider for the first time in her life, i stole the iconic dialogue, fuck if i know anything about the Navy

word count: 9,751

I’m dreaming of a White Christmas, just like the ones I used to know, where the treetops glisten and children listen, to hear sleigh bells in the snow

The sound of Bing Crosby’s voice crooning floats through the old truck. Bradley reaches out to turn the radio down, muting the man, as Maverick turns on to an old dirt road, turning off from the paved road they’d been following for miles.

“Where exactly are we going Uncle Mav?”

A faraway look appears in Maverick’s eyes, the same one that had appeared when he’d approached Bradley about going on this trip with him Thanksgiving morning. With the two having extended leave following their less-than-ideal crash landings and return from the dead, he’d had little better to do.

And Phoenix thought it would be a good idea, to get back on solid feet and mend his relationship with his godfather. So he’d agreed and packed up, getting into the Bronco to travel cross-country to Vermont.

“I told you kid, we’re going to see an old friend of mine.”

Maverick offers little more information for the rest of the ride as they travel along the road. Eventually, just when Bradley thinks his bladder might burst, they make another turn and pull up in front of a large home.

Bradley eyes the sign outside. “A ski resort Mav?” His godfather hums in response, turning the ignition off.

“Not so much as a ski resort as an inn for skiers.”

“But neither of us ski.” He pauses, looking around the property. “And there’s no snow.” Maverick says nothing, pulling off his seatbelt and slipping out of the car. He sighs, having no choice but to do the same, walking around the truck to follow his godfather up towards the house.

There’s a girl leaving the front door, a box in her hands. She notices them and sets the box down on a bench on the wrap-around porch, offering a bright smile. “Well, I was just about starting to think that the legendary Pete Mitchell my Dad talks so much about wasn’t real.”

Maverick laughs, pulling the girl into a hug. “Haven’t seen you since you were young kid. How have you been?”

You pull away, still smiling. “Good. Been quiet the past couple of years. Dad’s happy to have you here.”

Maverick steps back, putting his hands on Bradley’s shoulders. “This is my godson, Bradley Bradshaw.”

You offer him a smile, reaching out to shake his hand as you introduce yourself. He returns the gesture, grasp firm as he takes you in. “Why don’t you guys come on inside? Dad’s just in the lobby here.” You say, picking the box back up. You shoulder the door open and he reaches out, holding it open for you as you pass over the threshold. You give him a small smile. “Thanks.” He follows you inside, door shutting behind him as he stops, seeing the old man leaned over the front desk.

There’s no way-

“Well well well Pete Mitchell. I was starting to think you ran off on me.” The man smiles, moving out from behind the counter.

Mav lets out a light laugh, moving to hug the man. “And leave my wingman? No way.” The two embrace for a moment and then pull away, still holding on to each other. “Quiet business you’ve got here.”

He sighs. “I know, been a quiet couple of seasons. Not much snow-”

“Because of global warming.” You say and Bradley turns, watching you disappear back out the front door, box in hands. The man huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as he and Maverick watch you leave once more. “What am I going to do with her?”

It’s then that Maverick catches sight of him, remembering his presence, and waves him over. “Brad, this is-”

“Iceman.” He breathes out, the man lining up to the pictures in every base, everywhere he’s ever been stationed.

Maybe just with more grey hair.

Before a forced retirement after an accident that left him unable to fly, Iceman had been the stuff legends are made of. The type of pilot you only hear about in a blue moon. The type of pilot like Mav.

He offers a sad smile. “I haven’t been Iceman in a long time kid. Just Tom Kazansky these days.”

“Sorry-”

Tom waves a hand. “No matter. It’s good to see you Baby Goose.” He straightens at the nickname, only ever having heard Mav use it. “Haven’t seen you since Nick’s-” He swallows, clearing his throat. “Haven’t seen you since you were a kid.” He smiles sadly at him. “God, you look just like him.” He whispers. He clears his throat once more. “Well, why don’t we get you both settled in? Bet it was a long trip. Pete’s crazy ass over here saying you’ll drive all the way out.”

“Dad’s happy to have you and your Dad here.”

He looks up, seeing you offering him a steaming mug as he sits on one of the chairs. He can hear his godfather’s laughter echo from the other room. “Not my Dad.” He says, accepting the mug from you. You shrug, setting your own mug down on the coffee table as you sit next to his feet placed up on the ottoman.

“I know, but from the way Dad tells it, it’s close enough.” He can’t bring himself to say anything, heart aching at the thought of all the years he lost out on over misplaced anger. “Anyways, I’m happy to have you both here as well. It’s been lonely up here, especially with the quiet seasons.”

“Take it you guys don’t see much business.”

“We used to, but with no snow, it means no travelers, which means no money. Dad started this place up on his retirement and pension from the Navy but he’s been thinking of shutting the doors.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

You sigh, nodding your head as you tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “Yeah, I think the only reason he keeps this place open is for me. It’s all I've ever known. This place is much as it is his as it is mine. I mean, after the accident, after Mom left, this was something that was ours, you know? Maybe it’s stupid to not want to let that go.”

He thinks about the planes he’d been fixing up with Mav in the days after their mission, how he always wanted help Mav out with his motorcycle growing up. How he just wanted to share in something with his godfather. “Not stupid at all.” He whispers.

You take a deep breath and look back up to him. “Sorry, this is probably too deep for a stranger. Just wanted to say that we’re both glad to have you out here.”

He takes a sip of his drink, noting the sweet hot chocolate in the cup. “We’re happy to be here.” He says softly.

You look down to his lap, where his book is sitting. “Whatcha reading?”

He shifts, showing you the cover. “A Christmas Carol.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t have pegged you as a person who reads the classics.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’m not, but my friend Bob sent it with me when we left. Said I should read it since the holidays were coming up.”

Bob had also said it would help keep his mind off the ejections and crash-landings that had plagued him since he’d returned to the aircraft carrier very much alive, but he didn’t need to bother you with that.

“Well, it’s a good story. One of my favorites. Anyways, I’ll stop bothering you and let you get back to your reading. Just wanted to give that to you.” You say, nodding your head to the cup he’s holding as you pat his leg. You go to stand and he finds himself shifting, moving his legs off the ottoman.

“Wait, you don’t have to- We could- We could read it together, if you wanted.” You pause, looking at him. He scoots over, patting the spot next to him. “Here, there’s plenty of room next to me.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t want to intrude on your time-” He shakes his head.

“Please.” You nod, slotting yourself down next to him. It’s a tight fit, but not an uncomfortable one as he shifts, setting his cup down on the table next to him and allowing his arm to wrap around your shoulder. He passes the book to you. “Here, you read it to me. I bet you do good voices.”

He sighs once more, clicking the phone off. So much for staying in touch with his team.

“Something wrong?” Tom calls out from his walk around the property with Mav. He waves him off.

“No, just didn’t realize we wouldn’t have any service this far out.”

“Sorry Brad, the only way to communicate with anyone is by carrier pigeon.” Tom calls back.

“Besides, you don’t need to be texting or Facechatting anyone while you’re here. You’re supposed to be taking a break, remember?”

He almost sighs at his godfather’s lack of awareness with technology. They let him fly the multi-million dollar planes but he can’t figure out his way around an iPhone. “FaceTime, Uncle Mav. It’s FaceTime.”

His godfather waves him off, turning back around to take another lap with his friend as they continue to talk. He sighs, turning to go back inside. You’re leaned up against the front desk, sorting through some papers.

“Can I have a carrier pigeon?”

You look up, a smile forming on your face. “Come again?”

“Carrier pigeon. Your Dad told me it’s the only way to reach civilization. Although I suppose I could write a letter like in the olden days. Can I have some pen and paper in that case?”

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “He used that joke on you? No, reception out here is shit but you’re more than welcome to use the landline.” You say, using the pen you're holding to point to the phone hanging on the wall behind you. It’s blue, just like the walls in the lobby. “About the only phone that picks up service out here.”

He nods, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you. “No worries, I can do it later. Just wanted to call my friend Nat. Let her know how the trip was going. What’re you up to?”

You collect the papers, moving them from his sight. “Nothing, just some finance stuff.”

He nods, getting a sinking feeling finance stuff couldn’t be good. “Well, uh, you wanna show me around? Didn’t get the full tour last night.”

You nod, extending an arm. “Come Bradshaw, welcome to my humble abode.”

there’s always tomorrow, for dreams to come true, believe in your dreams come what may

Your voice is soft as you sleepily sing along to the movie playing. He smiles softly at you as the screen flickers, the characters singing. After the tour around the house and property, you’d asked him if he wanted to watch a Christmas movie with you, the holiday fast approaching. He hadn’t really wanted to, but you’d been so excited to start watching the films from your childhood that he’d said yes before he even realized what he was doing.

He can’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed the holidays this much, the last time he’d really felt the cheer Christmas was supposed to be all about. It had to have been before Mom passed.

You shift, yawning as you move to tuck your feet up on the couch. He reaches out for you, tugging you into his side. “So you can have a pillow if you fall asleep.” He whispers. He can’t tell for sure in the dark room, Rudolph being the only source of light, but he’s pretty sure you blush at the movement. He does too, but he hopes you don’t notice either.

The movie continues as his arm subconsciously reaches down, resting on your shoulder as his thumb rubs soft circles into your skin. You hum at the movement as you snuggle closer into his side. His heart flutters at the movement and he struggles to pull his eyes from where they’re admiring you, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, and back to the movie on the screen.

He’s near sleep when you speak again. “Your stomach is grumbling.” You comment. He has to blink a few times to bring himself back into the present, eyes adjusting to the light as the roar of the abominable snow monster echoes through the room.

“What?”

You lean up, hand pressing into his chest. “Your stomach is grumbling. It’s like, speaking its own language its so loud. It woke me up.” You move off of him and he feels cold at the loss of your touch.

“I’m sorry?” You shrug, rubbing your eyes as the blanket falls around your waist.

“It’s okay. I’m kind of hungry too. How do you feel about Christmas cookies? Unless Dad ate the entire tray I made today, we should have some in the kitchen.”

“Don’t think it’s your Dad you have to worry about, it’s Mav.”

Your raise an eyebrow at him. “Oh?”

“Mav could eat anyone out of house and home and still be hungry.” You smile, shaking your head as the movie comes to an end. You watch the closing scene as you stretch. He’s too busy watching you to watch the toys jump from Santa’s sleigh, admiring the light reflecting off your face as your hair falls over your shoulder.

“Mmm, okay, let’s go.” You say, but not before you fold the blanket and return it to it’s home in the basket next to the couch.

“Would’ve just thrown it over the back of the couch.” He comments, sticking his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants that he’d changed into before the two of you had started watching Rudolph.

You shrug, walking towards the kitchen as he follows you. “Yeah, but with business being so low, I’m the one cleaning this place, so I’d like to keep it as tidy as possible.”

He nods. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You wave a hand. “No worries, it’s really not-” You pause as you flick on the light-switch, flickering to life overhead. He pauses behind you, looking over your shoulder to where you’re looking at the now-empty glass tray. “They did eat all my cookies!”

He chuckles. “Guess the elderly folk couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.” You snort, shaking your head.

“Well, I could make more? It’s easy, really, and I think I still have some crushed up graham cracker leftover from earlier.”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t be opposed. What are they anyways?” He asks, leaning up against the kitchen counter as you begin to move around the small space.

You pull the coconut out from the cabinets. “They’re really cookie bars, but they were a recipe from Dad’s Mom before she passed, so he always likes it when I make them. Makes him nostalgic. Can you go in the pantry and grab me the sweetened condensed milk?” He nods, pushing himself off the counter to grab said item. “And the chocolate chips?” You call and he looks up, grabbing the bag and bringing the items back into the kitchen.

You make quick work of making the cookies as he stands back to watch you move through the kitchen. Finally, when the tray is slid into the oven, it’s then that you finally pause, washing your hands. He walks closer to you as you dry your hands on a towel. He offers a hand and you glance at it, looking back up to him.

“Dance with me.” He whispers.

You look at him, slowly setting the towel on the counter. “But there’s no music.” You whisper back, even as the smile on your face grows.

“Don’t need it.”

You take his hand, allowing him to lead the way. The steps are practiced, comfortable, as the two of you move through the kitchen, the light coming from the dim kitchen light and the blue of the moon outside.

“You’re pretty good at this.”

He shrugs. “My Mom taught me before she passed.”

You smile. “My Dad actually used to teach me growing up too. At the end of the ski seasons, when the place was empty but there was still snow out. He used to teach me in the big ballroom out there that we use as the dining space. Probably some of my favorite memories.” It falls silent in the kitchen as the two of you settle into a comfortable swaying.

Too soon, the timer rings and he finds you pulling away as you move to pull the tray out of the oven. “They’ll have to cool for a moment and then we can put them on to a tray and go sit out in the ballroom, how about that?” He nods as you pull two cups down from one of the cabinets.

“What’re you doing?”

You toss him a smile over your shoulder as you pull the milk from the fridge. “Well, you can’t have cookies without a glass of milk, can you?” You pause. “Wait, you’re not allergic or anything? Probably should have asked...”

He shakes his head, smiling at the sheepish look on your face. “No, no allergies. The only food allergy I’ve ever had is when I tried to convince my Mom carrots made me deathly ill when I was six.”

You raise an eyebrow, unscrewing the top to the milk and pouring it out into the cups. “Oh? Did she buy it?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Not a chance. She was too smart for that, although Uncle Mav got a kick out of it.”

You laugh alongside him as you move back to the cookies, moving the tray onto a cooling rack. “Here, will you take the glasses? We can just take the tray and eat from there.” He nods, grabbing the cups from your outstretched hands as you pick up the pan, careful not to touch the hot glass.

The two of you walk towards the ballroom when you hear the voices of your Dad’s. Turning the corner, he spots Uncle Mav sitting by the fire, head close to Tom’s as they laugh softly together.

He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Uncle Mav look so happy.

You nudge him, nodding towards the side door. “C’mon, let's not bother them. Why don’t we go sit outside?” He nods, grabbing a blanket in the entry way as the two of you quietly slip outside the door, trying not to disturb the men. You set the tray down between the two of you as he sets the glasses on the ground, offering the blanket to you. You look up at him as you sit down on the bench. “You sure?”

He nods, wrapping it around your shoulders. You smile gratefully at him as he takes the knife, cutting a small piece from the tray. “So talk to me more about your childhood. Sounds like you had a good time growing up.”

You nod. “Yeah, I was young when the accident happened. Five or six, maybe? Can’t remember. Dad fell into a depression after he was forced to retire and Mom couldn’t take it, leaving maybe a year later, if that. He took his money from the retirement and pension the Navy gave him and moved us up here, opened this place up. I remember growing up, fixing this place up, and turning it into what it is now. I honestly couldn’t imagine growing up any differently.”

He shifts on the bench. “You know, I’m surprised your Dad ended up all the way out here. People in the Navy still talk about him.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

He hums in confirmation, cutting himself another piece from the tray. “Yeah, your Dad is what we consider legendary.”

You cock your head. “Interesting.” He glances up at you.

“Why?”

You sigh, settling back against the bench. “A few years ago now, my Dad reached out to the Navy. Wanted to get back in, wanted to do administration work. If you ask me, I think once the thrill of starting the business wore off, he needed something else to keep him preoccupied. To keep him from falling back into his depression, and, uh, the Navy told him they had moved on without him. Didn't need him anymore. Those are my words, but the letter wasn’t much kinder. Then, not too long after, he got sick, and that was the end of that.”

A pit of dread settles in his stomach as he turns to glance back at the men he knows are just inside. “Got sick?” He asks quietly.

Were they here because Tom was dying?

He shakes the thought from his head, turning his attention back to you.

No, no Uncle Mav wouldn’t do that to him. Not after he watched his Mom die.

“Throat cancer. It... It wasn’t good.” You say softly, turning to look at him. “He’s in remission now, and fingers crossed it stays that way, but it did a real number on my Dad. Physically and mentally. The bills drained the savings and he became depressed again, really badly. Kept saying he lost his purpose in life and couldn’t go on.”

He watches you talk, an urge to help the old man inside arising within him. Tom had no idea of the power he still held over the Navy, of the legacy he’d left behind. “Wow, that sounds... really tough. I’m sorry.”

“My Dad was invincible growing up, nothing could hurt him. But to see the illness take so much of him away, to make him so lost, it was... I don’t ever want to live with that again.”

He swallows, remembering watching Mav’s plane go down, no sight of a chute. A man he thought would live forever... gone.

He remembers watching him Mom wither away in front of him, nothing left than a shell of the bright women she used to be.

“I... can’t even imagine what that was like.” He thinks that maybe he could, but any other words are failing him as he listens to you.

You sigh, shrugging. “He’s slowly gotten better but the business has taken a hit and it’s been hard on his mental health and our finances. Pretty certain that this will be our last season open.”

He falls back on to the behind, crossing his arms. “Damn, really? I’m- wow.”

You nod, confirming. “He’s talking about moving to Canada now. Anyways, I’m sorry, this is probably a lot and you didn’t really ask-”

“No, not at all. Is there any way me or Uncle Mav can help?”

You sigh. “Unless you can make it snow and get us a house full of guests, no. Although you and Pete being here is really good for him. You guys coming out here for the holidays is more than enough. Less lonely, for the both of us.”

He sighs. “Alright, well if anything changes, let me know, okay? We’ll help in any way we can.”

You smile, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Thank you.”

He squeezes your hand back, returning the smile.

He knows you said there was nothing he could do but... Mav would know. Mav would know how to help.

They have to.

You shiver, pulling your jacket around you tighter as your feet crunch over another pile of leaves. Your Dad lets out a light laugh. “Cold there, kid?”

You nod. “’S chilly today. Chillier then it has been. Maybe we’ll finally get snow.”

Your Dad snorts. “That’s wishful thinking.”

You nudge him. “Hey, maybe it’ll be a Christmas miracle.”

He shakes his head, a sign he’s going to ignore what you’ve just said. “Well, maybe we need to go inside and have Brad warm you up.”

Your cheeks warm at the suggestion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he feigns an innocent look. “Nothing at all, just that you’ve been spending a lot of time with him lately.”

“Well, it’s not like there’s anyone else to hang out with up here!” You exclaim. He scoffs.

“I’m not fun to be around anymore?” He asks, clutching a hand over his heart. You roll your eyes, moving to wrap your arm around your Dad’s, linking them together.

“Never, you know I always want to hang out with you.” He hums, knocking his shoulder against yours.

“If you’re tired of your old man, you can just say so.”

You return his gesture, knocking his shoulder with your own. “Shut up.”

He laughs softly as a silence falls between the two of you. You continue your walk when another breeze goes through, causing him to shiver this time. “Cold, Dad?” He shakes his head, a smile on his face as the two of you turn back to the house. “You know, maybe we should go inside and get Pete to warm you up.” You say, a teasing lilt to your voice.

“What are you talking about?”

You offer him a grin. “You know Daddy, if you like him...”

“He’s just an old friend!” Your Dad protests, even thought the blush coloring his cheeks say differently.

“Sure, you’re both old but doesn’t he just make you feel youthful, like love’s supposed to?” You tease to which he rolls his eyes. You squeeze his forearm, causing him to look down at you. “You haven’t dated anyone since Mom.” You say softly, looking at him honestly.

He sighs. “Because I had you sweetheart-”

“And I was your priority. And I love you so very much for that Dad. But I’m all grown up now. And I want you to have someone to grow old with. Or- grow older with. What is Pete, like 60?”

“I’m 62.” He responds indignantly. You roll your eyes.

“Whatever, you’re missing my point.”

“Wha- How do you even know I like men?”

You roll your eyes once more. “You’re not subtle. You make eyes at him.”

“I do not!” He protests.

“Yes, you do. And even if you didn’t, you only talk about your Navy days if you’re talking about Pete, and you talk like he hung the moon and the stars for you. I’m not stupid Dad, I am your daughter after all.”

He sighs as the two of you near the house. “Even if there was something—and I’m not saying there is—Pete and I- we had our chance and he wouldn’t- it’s complicated, sweetheart. He’s still married to the Navy and with the cancer, it wouldn’t be easy.” He whispers.

“I just want you to be happy, Dad.” You say as the two of you walk up the front steps to the house.

“I know, kid.” He says as you reach out to push the front door open, unlinking your arm from his. The two of you pause, watching Pete and Bradley fight over the phone, each speaking over the other.

Bradley sees you first, kicking Pete’s shin and wrestling the phone away from his godfather as Pete winces. “We’ll call you back.” Bradley says abruptly, clearly cutting off whoever’s on the other end, hanging up the phone as the two of them turn to you and your Dad, guilty smiles on their faces.

“Uh oh, that smile usually means you’ve gotten yourself in trouble with another admiral.” Your Dad says, walking closer to Pete. “Dare I ask what you’ve done now Pete?”

“Nothing!” He defends, voice two octaves too high and he clears his throat, a blush crawling up his neck. Bradley nudges him as both you and your Dad raise an eyebrow. “Really, it’s nothing Tom, just stuff with my pilots back home.” Your Dad nods, clearly not believing him. “Here, come to the kitchen, I was just going to change the light in there so it doesn’t flicker as much.” Pete says, turning on his heel and beginning the walk down the hallway.

Your Dad sighs, still following the man to the kitchen even as he protests. “You don’t have to do that Pete-”

“No, it’s the least I can do to help you out, since you refuse to let me pay you for letting me and Brad stay here-”

“I can’t charge family-” The conversation disappears down the hallway, falling silent as the kitchen door shuts behind them. Bradley watches them go while you remain standing by the front door, still eyeing him warily.

“So we agree those two are...” He trails off as he looks back to you. “What?”

“What were you guys doing?” You ask.

He offers you sheepish look, rocking back and forth back on his heels. “Nothing.”

“So you and your uncle just fight over a landline phone like that all the time?” He sighs, throwing a glance back toward the kitchen.

“Well, I- I can’t tell you. It’s nothing.”

You walk towards him a few paces. “So it’s nothing, but you can’t tell me?” He bites his lip, saying nothing more. You sigh, knowing you won’t get any more out of him. “Alright, well I’m going to go change.” You say, turning on your heel and towards the staircase. You hear him sigh again, catching the way he was leaned up against the wall, head resting next to the landline.

Yeah, they were definitely up to something.

The sound of the piano keys floats through the hall as you pad down the stairs. You bypass the kitchen, originally planning on going in there to get more water, but you head towards the noise instead.

You half expect to find Pete, because according to your Dad, he could do just about anything, including walk on water.

Instead, you find Bradley, pajama-clad, playing a few keys. Somehow, he manages to make red-and-black checkered pants and a grey sweatshirt look good.

You quietly approach the bench, creaky floor announcing your presence. He half-turns, eyes softening at the sight of you.

“Hey.” He whispers. “Nice slippers.”

You look down, seeing the fuzzy reindeer slippers you had grabbed before leaving your room. “Shut up.” You say, a whiny hint to your voice. “The floor gets cold in the winter. And Dad gave them to me. As a Christmas present. We have matching ones.”

He shakes his head, laughing silently to himself. “What’re you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You answer, sliding down on the bench. He scoots over, letting you join him, knees knocking together as you do.

“Me neither.” He whispers. “It’s cold here. Freezing my ass off.”

You snort. “There’s not even any snow on the ground, Bradshaw.”

He knocks your shoulder as you laugh quietly. “Shut up, ‘m from San Diego.”

You smile, scooting ever so closer to him. “Didn’t know you played piano.”

He smiles bashfully, ducking his head. “Yeah, uh, learned when I was a kid. Mom got me lessons. Makes me feel close to my Dad.”

You hum. “I’d love to learn to play but this old thing has always been just for decoration. Me and Dad don’t play. Uncle Sli probably has videos of me banging on the keys as a kid.”

Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Slider? Like Ron “Slider” Kerner?”

You nod your head. “He’s my godfather. Why?”

Bradley chuckles, shaking his head. “I knew Slider growing up. He was pretty close with Mav. They still are, I think. Slider was there when my Dad died.”

You tuck a piece of stray hair behind your ear. “He was the only one that came ‘round after Dad had his accident and we moved up here.” You take a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Frankly, I don’t think Dad told anybody else where he was for a few years and then just figured no one wanted to hear from him. But he’s a good man and I... I don’t see as much of him as I would like. Him and Dad had a fight, something real bad, quite a few years ago now. He still sends me Christmas cards but we haven't seen him since. Doesn't call much either.”

“What’d they fight about?”

You shrug. “I guess Uncle Sli found out that Dad called in a few favors leftover from his Navy days. Helped someone pull... something. Had to do with the Navy, which I’ll admit I don’t know too much about, mostly cause Dad doesn’t even talk about his Navy days.”

Recognition flickers across Bradley’s face as you talk, followed by a look of disappointment. He shakes his head before you can say anything, the look passing as quickly as it came. “Well, do you want me to teach you how to play?”

You shrug. “I’d probably be pretty bad at it.”

“Can’t be too terrible. Maybe all that banging as a kid was just hidden potential.” You snicker, ducking your head. Your eyes flicker up to his, realizing how close the two of you have gotten over the course of the conversation. His hand gently creeps on to your thigh, testing the waters. Your foreheads brush as his eyes flicker over your shoulder. “We have an audience.” He whispers. You sigh, tossing a glance over your shoulder.

Sure enough, there are your Dad’s, giving the two of you all-knowing grins. You groan, leaning your head to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. “Why are they so nosy?”

He snorts, shrugging. “Not a clue.”

“Oh, don't stop on account of us.” Pete calls out, smirking. You shake your head, standing up from the piano bench.

“Goodnight Bradley.” You say, cheeks warm under the watchful gaze of the men behind you. He smiles at you, reaching out to squeeze your hand.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Dad, Pete.” You say as you pass them.

“Night kid.” Your Dad calls as Pete snickers.

They were going to be the death of you.

“Why’d you fight with Uncle Slider?”

Your Dad glances up from the chess game he’s playing outside with Pete as you stroll towards the pair. Your Dad exchanges an uneasy glance with Pete. “Kid-”

“No, I wanna know why I don’t get to see my godfather anymore.”

Your Dad sighs, rubbing his temple, but Pete beats him to the punch. “I pulled Bradley’s papers to the Naval Academy.” He hesitates, eyes flickering to your father. “Your Dad... he helped me.”

You blink once, and then twice. “Why would you do that?”

“That was Sli’s question.” Your Dad says, looking to Pete. “Always said we should’ve let Brad figure it out on his own. Maybe we should have. Maybe he was right.”

Your eyes flicker between the two men, dizzy with the force it takes to follow them as they uncover a decades-long buried secret. “What’re you talking about?”

Your Dad sighs. “Nick, Goose, Bradley’s Dad, was killed in an accident while we were at Top Gun. It was our jetwash, Sli and I, that they got caught in. Bradley was only four.”

You shake your head. “I’m still not following.”

Pete picks up where your Dad leaves off. “Carole, Bradley’s mother, when she died of cancer, asked me to ensure Bradley didn’t make it into the Navy. She didn’t want the same thing to happen to him. I agreed and pulled his application to the Naval Academy. It set him back four years.”

Everything feels off-kilter, realizing you haven’t seen your godfather in years because of some bullshit Navy business?

Your godfather didn’t come around anymore, didn’t call really ever, because of some decades-long disagreement over someone else’s kid?

“Sli was angry with me for not letting Brad make his own choices. Asked me if I would’ve done the same thing if you came to me wanting to join the Navy.”

Your eyes flicker to your Dad. “And would you have?”

Your Dad hesitates, and then sighs, shoulders drooping. “I... Probably. If not because of what happened to Goose, because of what happened to me.”

Your father, an ever firm man, says the words in a voice so soft and quiet, you almost feel your confusion and frustration dissipate.

Almost.

You splutter, suddenly angry over a hypothetical situation that had never occurred. You had no interest in joining the Navy, never had and never would, and you both knew it.

You stare at the two for a moment, searching for the words, before you decide you don’t have them and turn on your heel, stalking back up to the house. You push the front door open, finding Bradley excitedly chatting into the phone. “No, no, Mav’s gonna love it.” There’s a pause. “Yeah no, Mav heard back from Slider this morning. He’s coming too.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the mention of Slider. Of the godfather you hadn’t seen since you were sixteen.

What the fuck were they up to?

“No, it’s gonna be awesome. I’m so excited to have you all up here.” He pauses again, listening to the other person on the phone. “Yeah? Well, tell Bagman he better believe it. It’s the Iceman.”

Suddenly, you recall how Bradley had told you that people still regarded your Dad as a legend.

Suddenly, you recalled the conversation from a few days ago, Pete pretending they weren’t up to anything.

God, that- that had to be one of Bradley’s teammates on the phone.

Bradley turns his head, catching sight of you. “I gotta go. We’ll talk later. Bye.” He says hurriedly, hanging the phone up on the wall. He offers you a sheepish look, putting his hands in his pockets.

You wave a hand, not moving from your spot. “Oh, well you don’t have to hang up the phone just cause I’m here.”

He glances back at the phone on the wall. “No, just my friend Nat from home.”

You hum, crossing his arms. “Mmm, and just what did this Nat have to say?”

His eyes narrow at you. “Did I do something?”

You shrug. “Depends. What are you and your godfather up to?”

“N- Nothing. Nothing.” He stutters out, darting out of the room before the words are even fully out of his mouth.

You sigh, taking a step farther into the lobby.

What the hell were they doing? Who was coming out here? If this Nat person, his teammate, was involved, you could certainly suspect others in the Navy knew about their plan.

The Iceman? Were they setting your Dad up to be some kind of show pony for failed Navy pilots or something?

That thought is enough to make you dart down the hall, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Pete and Bradley were bringing out all these people from the Navy, Slider included, all just to mock your Dad. Mock him for having to close what had been his life-long passion after flying had been taken from him. Mock him for what his life had become.

God, you don’t think you’ve ever met people more cruel.

It’s another week as Christmas approaches and you’ve gone out of your way to avoid both Bradley and Pete. You’re fuming at what they’re up to and you have half a mind to tell your Dad.

And yet, every time you go to tell him, you walk into a room where they’re together. Seeing them together, seeing your Dad so content and happy, it makes the words get caught in your throat.

It’s only on Christmas Eve, when the four of you are supposed to be getting ready to have a nice Christmas Eve dinner, that you make the resolve to tell him.

It’s bad timing, probably, but both Pete and Bradley had grown antsy last night, disappearing to their rooms early, and you’ll be damned if you sit by while they humiliate your father.

You stride across the house, black boots clicking against the floor as you leave the kitchen. You’d just pulled the turkey from the oven, having gotten changed into the nice dress that always sat at the back of your closet for occasions like this one.

It was velvety, soft to the touch, red. It paired well with black tights and the boots shoved at the top of your closet. It was a Christmas-only dress and Pete had convinced both you and your Dad to dress up.

You had half a mind to find Pete and bitch him out yourself, but you knew your Dad would do enough of that once he found out about what his “friend” had been up to. Once he found out about what he had done.

You’re envisioning the ensuing argument that ended the same way it had with Slider when you slow, spotting half a dozen people standing in your lobby.

“Can I help you?” You call. They turn, all dressed in dress blues.

You only recognize them as such because your Dad’s are tucked away in the back of his closet. Every once in a while, he’ll look at them longingly and then sigh, shutting his closet door.

The tall blonde responds first, smirking as he does. “Well, pretty lady, you can help me any time.” He’s answered with a smack upside his head from the lanky man with glasses as the female nudges him.

“We’re looking for Bradley Bradshaw.” The female responds.

You raise an eyebrow, realizing this must be who Pete and Bradley have been in cahoots with. You don’t get a chance to answer though as they spot him over your shoulder.

“Rooster!” The female exclaims and Bradley side-steps you to offer the girl a tight hug. Your brain is still processing the Rooster nickname when the blond sees someone he recognizes behind you.

“Hey Pops.” The blond says and you turn to see Pete.

“Hey kids, good to see you all.” Pete clasping your shoulder gently. “Hey, I’m glad I caught you. I need your help with something.”

“Why the hell would I help you?” The words are hot on your tongue, tumbling out before you can stop them.

Pete flinches, hand leaving your shoulder. “What-”

“Is that Pete Mitchell I hear? Short as ever I see.”

You go cold as the entire group turns, recognizing the voice of the man who’d given you piggy back rides and helped measure your height every time he visited appeared in your line of vision.

“Ron Kerner, still just as annoying as ever, I see.”

The two share a good-natured laugh, followed by a hug. “Good to see you alive and well Mitchell. Figured you’d end up at Tom’s.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pete squawks, punching Slider’s shoulder. He smirks, taking a step away from Pete.

“Oh, you know exactly what-” He falters, eyes locking on to you. He clears his throat, pulling himself up to his full height. “Well, how about that? My favorite goddaughter all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to help us out.”

Had you not suddenly been so angry again, you probably would’ve reminded him you were his only goddaughter.

So instead you say:

“Go fuck yourself.”

The words are once again pouring out of you before you can stop them, and you turn, headed straight for your Dad’s room. Someone’s reaching out for your arm and you recognize the callused hands as Bradley’s as he pulls you back to the group.

“Please don’t do that, you don’t know how hard it was to arrange for everyone to be here.”

You scoff, pulling your arm from his grip. “Good, I hope it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done, setting up an old man who’s already down and out about his life to be humiliated.”

“What’re you talking-”

“And you,” eyes flying to Pete and Slider. “-you are supposed to be his friends.”

Slider is staring at you with a dumbfounded look, but Pete walks forward carefully, testing the waters. “What exactly do you think we’re doing here?”

You wave a hand, gesturing to the group of Navy folk that have gathered around you. “You brought all these Navy folk out here to make a fool of him for what’s happened to him, as if he hasn’t already been through enough.”

The front door opens again, revealing a couple of men you might be able to place from old Navy photos that are tucked away in a shoebox in the basement.

“Well, Pete Mitchell, never thought we’d see you again.”

One of them with similiar stature to that of Slider’s, grins at the sight of you. “And if it isn’t ol’ Iceman’s daughter.”

The blond has a predatory smile on his face as he looks at you. “Well, even better, Iceman’s daughter.”

Nat, you’re pretty sure, smacks him upside the head, following with a hissed “Shut up Bagman.”

You shoot Pete a withering look as he cringes. “My point. And I’m not letting you do this to him, I’m going to tell him, I’m-”

Pete cuts you off, taking ahold of your shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “They’re here because I asked them to be. I wanted Tom to be reminded that there’s people out there who still care for Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. That his life didn’t end the day he crashed that plane.”

You go cold at the words, heart hammering your chest. “What?”

He chuckles. “Brad’s idea, actually. Wanted to help the two of you out. Figured we could get some business in here and remind your Dad just how many people care about his sorry ass. So I really hope you won’t ruin the surprise.”

You sigh, deflating. “I-”

Pete waves his hand, dismissing the fact that you don’t have words to explain your misunderstanding. “This is where you come in.”

You knock on the door, pausing to hear your Dad’s rough “Come in.” You gently push the door open, slipping inside. He glances up at you from where he’s sitting on his bed, a smile breaking out across his face. “Well don’t you look nice?”

You smile, rocking back and forth on your heels. “Well, Pete did insist we dress up...”

He sighs, rolling his eyes. “Why did we let him convince us to do that? My damn house and he expects me to dress up?”

“I take it you haven’t picked out what you’re wearing yet?”

He sighs. “No, I’ve decided I’m just gonna go in what I’m already wearing.” You glance at the grey sweatpants he’s wearing, a Vermont sweatshirt thrown on top. His reindeer slippers, matching with your own pair, adorn his feet. “It’s just the four of us.”

You frown, knowing he can’t, under any circumstances go downstairs wearing that. “Well... Oh, I know! How about you wear your dress blues?” You say, clasping your hands together. “Oh, would you please? Bradley and Pete are wearing theirs!”

He scoffs, shaking his head and standing up from the bed. “Of course Pete is.” He grumbles, walking towards the bathroom. You follow him, appearing over his shoulder.

“Please? For me?” You ask, pouting your lips and making your eyes wide. “I’ve never seen you wear them.”

He eyes you for a minute before shaking his head. “That look doesn’t work on me anymore kid.”

You sigh, shoulders deflating. “Fine.” You mumble.

He sighs. “Besides, I’m not that man anymore. I’m not a hero.”

You glance up at your father, taking a small step to stand next to him. You take his arm, squeezing it. “That’s not true.”

“Kid-”

“No, it isn’t. Your life isn’t defined by that accident, Dad. It doesn’t negate all the amazing things you did before it happened. It doesn’t change the fact that you were a legend and everything Pete and Bradley and Uncle Sli have told me confirm that. And not only that, but you raised me by yourself-”

“Slider helped-”

“By. Your. Self.” You say, stressing each word, making direct eye contact with him through the mirror. “You beat cancer, Dad. If nothing else, you should be proud of that.”

He sighs, turning to look at you. “I did good with you kid, didn’t I?”

You smile softly, looking up at him. “You’re my hero, Dad. You may not think anyone else still sees you as one or doubt you’ve ever been one, but you always have been. You will always be my hero, Dad.”

There’s a sparkle in his eyes, shimmering with unshed tears. “I love you, kid.” He pauses for a moment, reaching his hands to rest on your shoulders as he looks at you, before pulling you into a hug. “Guess maybe I should wear them huh?” His voice is thick with tears as you wrap your arms around him, squeezing him in return. “Alright, give me twenty minutes to get changed and then I’ll go down with you.”

You pull away, beaming. “I’ll be just outside.”

You slip out of the room, shutting the door behind you. Bradley’s at the bottom of the steps, waiting anxiously. He looks up, a silent question hanging in the air. You give a smile and two thumbs up, causing him to smile and dart towards the main room where you know Pete and the others are waiting.

Your Dad’s good to his word, appearing from his door twenty minutes later, on the dot. You smile at him, adjusting one of his medals as he stands at a attention. “You’re the only person I’d do this for, you know?” He says as you pull away.

You roll your eyes, taking his arm that’s held out for you and begin to move down the stairs. “Oh that’s not true, a little part of you is doing this for Pete.”

“Am not!”

You snort, reaching the bottom step. “Sure.” You turn, entering the main room, knowing what’s coming next.

“Ten-hut!” Pete calls, the entire room standing to attention, saluting your father. Your father freezes next to you as you step back, letting him have his moment. The spouses of those military personnel who have joined you erupt into applause. Your Dad walks into the room, taking in Bradley and his teammates, friends of his from his Top Gun program, and others who’ve served under his instruction or alongside him. He finally turns back to Pete as the applause dies down.

“At ease soldier.” He pauses, swallowing. “What’s all this then Pete?” He asks, a certain sense of awe present in his voice.

Pete smiles, standing at attention, probably the best he ever has. “Just wanted to give a legendary general a legendary Christmas, sir.”

“You’re an idiot.” Your Dad says, fondness coloring his tone.

Pete beams up at him. “Only for my wingman.”

“You can be my wingman anytime, Pete.” He whispers.

“Bullshit, you can be mine.”

Your Dad pulls Pete into a tight hug as your eyes flicker over to Bradley. He gives you a soft smile and a short nod as your Dad lets Pete go. He turns to you, eyeing you as you walk forward. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“Only just barely.”

“And that’s why you did all of this?” He says, gesturing to his attire. You shrug.

“Yeah, but I meant what I said, that you’re my hero.” You say, taking his arm. Pete chuckles, shaking his head.

Your Dad’s voice is once again thick with emotion as he turns back to his wingman. “So truly Pete, what is all of this?”

Pete sighs, taking your Dad’s other arm. “I wanted you to see how far your legacy has gone. That there are so many people, mostly pilots but not all, that have been impacted by you in some way. I wanted you to see how they still are impacted by you.” Pete adds at the end, nodding his head towards Bradley’s team.

Your Dad eyes Pete for a minute and then blows out a breath. “Whatever in the world did I do to deserve you Pete Mitchell?”

You walk around the kitchen, drying the dishes with a towel when a figure appears in the doorway. You glance up, catching the tall frame of Bradley as he leans against the doorjamb. “Hey.”

“You disappeared.” He says, crossing his arms. You shrug, looking away from as you pick up another plate from the soapy water.

“All the Navy folks and military personnel... not my scene. Figured I’d make good use of myself and tidy up the kitchen.”

He hums, lifting himself off the doorway. “Not your scene, huh?”

“No, no it’s one thing to know your Dad’s a legend and another to be surrounded by legends, knowing you’re just a glorified innkeeper from Vermont- hey!” Bradley’s taken the bowl you’re holding and dishtowel from your hands, setting them on the counter. You pull yourself up, placing your hands on your hip. “What’d you have to go and do that for?”

He sighs, taking your hands. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re a lot more than glorified innkeeper from Vermont.”

“Well-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “You’re a legend in your own right. Don’t gotta be a top Navy pilot to prove it to me.”

You stare at him as you find yourself leaning into his touch, getting lost in his hazel eyes. “I-”

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“Okay.” You whisper, letting him take one of your hands, intertwining his fingers with your own.

You follow him out of the kitchen, past the main room where Slider is regaling Bradley’s friends with a tale from his days as your Dad’s RI. The man who recognized you as Iceman’s daughter earlier (Hollywood as you’ve learned his name is) adds a few snippets here and there. Bradley’s commanding officer, Cyclone, hangs on to Slider’s every words. It’s not hard to feel the deep admiration everyone in the room has for your Dad.

Bradley pauses, grabbing his coat from the rack.

“Oh, but you have your dress blues on and I-”

“I know, this is for you.” He says, flipping the coat on and slipping it around your shoulders. “Don’t want you getting cold.” He says as you slip your arms into the coat.

Bradley pushes the front door open, keeping his hand in yours as the two of you walk down the front steps. It’s quiet as the two of you walk around the property, the night air blowing right through you. “Thank you for doing this for my Dad.” You say quietly. “He- You don’t know how much I appreciate it. I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you and Pete.”

“You don’t have to repay us. Mav and I- we wanted to do it for him. An old Navy pal and all that.”

“Well, it was still very nice of you.” You say, feet crunching over fallen leaves. “So when are you and Pete headed out of here? I can't imagine Cyclone’s wanting to sacrifice you and Pete for much longer.”

“Well, about that-” He pauses as you tear your gaze from the ground to the sight in front of you.

Your Dad grabs Pete by the edges of his dress blues, pulling him in close and kissing him. “Well, would you look at that?” You whisper. “They finally did something about it.”

He huffs out a laugh as the two break apart. “Only took ‘em 30 years.”

Pete claps his hands against your Dad’s chest, grinning and looking around as your Dad slips his hands into his pockets. Pete freezes, catching the sight of you and Bradley.

“Oh, don’t stop on account of us.” Bradley calls as you giggle, leaning closer into Bradley. “C’mon.” He whispers. “Let’s let them have their moment.” You nod as you and Bradley turn, walking in the other direction. “Well, it looks like we might be sticking around for a while then huh?”

You laugh, squeezing Bradley’s hand. “I don’t hate the sound of that.”

“For the company, right?”

You give a look, rolling your eyes. “Sure, just for the company.” You pause, feeling another breeze run through as you step closer to him. “Is Pete tying you down out here? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you went back without him.”

He sighs. “Ah... no, I would rather be out here with him in all honesty. We didn’t talk for over a decade and I think it’s high time I start mending things with my godfather. You know, I think Tom got something right, when he decided to move out here.”

“What do you mean?” You ask, looking up at him.

He shrugs one shoulder. “Before we came out here, Uncle Mav and I flew a mission we didn’t expect to come back from. We were lucky to walk away alive after all we had been through. And up here, where it’s quiet and slow, not so fast-paced and life or death, it’s maybe something us Navy pilots could use more of. Something I could use more of.”

You smile. “Well, we got plenty of it up here.”

“And, well, maybe I could just use a bit more of you.”

You pause your walk, turning to him. You go to respond when the first flake settles in Bradley’s hair. You blink, wondering if you imagined it when the second settles on your nose. You scrunch your nose at the cold bite of the snow. Bradley smiles, looking at you in child-like wonder as he places his hands on your waist.

“Well, what do you know, it’s snow.” He whispers as you look around at the snow falling around you. “Never seen it before.”

“Really?” You ask, eyes snapping back to his. He nods, confirming it, eyes moving over your face. “Well, we should get your friends out here, they should see it too-”

He stops you from moving, grip tightening around your waist. “Honey just- give a moment, will ya? Been trying to do this for weeks.”

“Do what? Oh.” You whisper as Bradley pulls you in for a kiss. His lips are warm, soft, against yours as the snow falls around the two of you.

“Yeah, could use a lot more of you.” He whispers, pulling away. You smile, finding your hands coming up to curl in his brown locks, admiring the way the curls framing his face mix with the falling of the snow. He snorts, bowing his head as you stand there.

“What?” You murmur, still in awe of the man in front of you. He shakes his head, smiling at you as his forehead comes to rest against yours.

“Just finally got a white Christmas.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fics #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fics #ky's 12 days of ficmas

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drake-walker-appreciation · 2 years ago

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Drake Walker Appreciation Week 2023 - Master List

DWAW Revisited lol! Well over half the links in our master list broke. I have spent most of tonight tracking them down and repairing them. I am posting a new ML because somehow the old one was done in the old editor and was almost impossible to edit without losing my mind. I also found a couple of things that were missed originally because Tumblr likes to eat tags.

Happy National Drake Day everyone! Especially you, Walker, you grumpy marshmallow, you 🙃

First off, big thank you to everyone who participated in DWAW 2023 We have had a lot of great submissions - both new and old - and we are so grateful for everyone who took the time to put content together for this event, shared and tagged us!

Also, big shoutout to @choicesficwriterscreations@choices-february2023@choicesprompts@choicesholidays@maxwell-beaumont-appreciation for the signal boosts! 😘

And now, without further ado, here is the masterlist you’ve all been waiting for:

Day 1: Head Canons and Appreciation:

Drake Walker HC and Appreciation by @angelasscribbles

Drake Walker HCs by @karahalloway

Drake Walker Appreciation by @karahalloway

Some Drake Moments by @katedrakeohd

Drake HC’s by @persephone13

Drake Quote by @storyofmychoices

False Truth Ch. 1 by @twinkleallnight

Day 2: Throwbacks

Find all the wonderful throwbacks here.

False Truth 2 by @twinkleallnight

Day 3: The Early Years

Polo by @karahalloway

A Savage Love Snippet by @angelasscribbles

12 Days of Ficmas by @twinkleallnight

Day 4: Friends and Family

Hinge: Bringing Her Home to Mother by @angelasscribbles

Complicated:Alexandria by @angelasscribbles

Camping was Intense by @karahalloway

Thanksgiving by @karahalloway

Familia by @petiteboheme

Drake’s Birthday Bash Fanart by @twinkleallnight

Day 5: Romance

First Date by @bebepac

If Only…For the Night by @bebepac

Drake Pairings by @angelasscribbles

Drake Pairings and boards by @harleybeaumont

Drake Pairings by @karahalloway

A Fervid Fixation Chapter 5 by @angelasscribbles

American Girl Chapter 4 by @angelasscribbles

Drake Pairing by @nestledonthaveone

I Don’t Like You by @angelasscribbles

Marshmallow by @twinkleallnight

My OTP by @twinkleallnight

Day 6: As a Husband and Father

Drake’s Perfect Day by @angelasscribbles

Nevrakis Walker Christmas by @twinkleallnight

Day 7: Visuals

Moodboard by @persephone13

Riley and Drake on his Motorcycle art by @rosefuckinggenius, submission by @angelasscribbles

Drake Visuals by @angelasscribbles

Whiskey Wednesday by @bebepac

Drake and Ava by @petiteboheme

DWAW Visuals by @karahalloway

DWAW Visuals by @aussiegurl1234

A Drake Walker Mood with Music by @marshmallowsandfire

Video Edit by @twinkleallnight

Edits and Fanart by @twinkleallnight

Face Claim by @katedrakeohd

If we have accidentally forgotten anyone, please let us know!

#drake walker appreciation #dwaw 2023 #drake walker appreciation week #the royal romance #drake walker #trr drake #dwaw 2023 master list

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untitled-byler-blog · 2 years ago

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17 and a number of your choice for the AO3 ask game

👀👀👀 thank you for the ask, quinn 😭😭

15) [my choice] What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

I chose this one to manifest what I will not be taking into next year (hopefully): the first draft of my novel (which I was supposed to finished during Nano) my big Poppins fic (that I was supposed to finish in May) my current in-progress miraculous fic that platonic madwheeler thing you requestion eons ago My Byler 12 Days of Ficmas that I outlined even though I haven't even written my Secret Santa fic yet

What I will be taking with me is:

Even the Brightest Rose Wilts in the Moonlight (Black Butler) Ten(?) Chapters written and typed; nothing posted yet Bring Forth Salvation (Byler DGM AU) Outlined, not started writing yet; planning to write and publish chapter one to test the waters/gauge interest before commiting to another novel-length fic like the Poppins one that took me 6 years... I'm only at the two-year mark for Moon-Rose, though, and already over a third of the way through, so that is promising still... An Untitled Grelliam Fic I impulsively started at work like a year ago An Untitled Lillie of the Valley fic I impulsively started at work like a year ago

17) Your favorite character to write this year?

Definitely the wet possum himself: Mike Wheeler

AO3 Wrapped

#ask #quinnick #byler

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god-save-the-keen · 4 years ago

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A complicated day

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC

Book: Open Heart 2

Warning: None

Words: 1589

Note: English it's not my native language so be patient with me 😌

Here is my collaboration for 12 days of Fictmas! Hope you all enjoy it! Thanks for hosting this again @leelee10898 and @emichelle! ❤️

Writers: @texaskitten30 @zaffrenotes @alj4890 @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @darley1101 @msjr0119 @annekebbphotography @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd

Readers: @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject @drariellevalentine

Permanent tagg list: @eileendannie @desireepow-1986 @dawn-1994 @darley1101 @blackcatkita @flyawayboo @drakewalker04 @choicesficwriterscreations @mrawxs

Bryce Lahela x MC tagg list: @anotherbeingsworld

Open Heart tagg list: @mskaneko @x-kyne-x

"What are your plans for the holidays?" Casey asked as they walked to his place after a double shift. Her small hand was in his and her thin fingers were tangled with his as her thumb caressed distractedly his skin.

"Well, Keiki's coming back for the break so I guess we'll stay at my place."

"You aren't going to Hawaii?"

"Nah. I might have talked with my parents a couple of times and I might have put a stop to my resentment towards them, but that doesn't change what they did. Especially after all that Keiki told us."

"So, are you going to be the two of you here, alone?"

"Trust me, Cass, I've had worst holidays." His hand squeezed hers reassuring. "What about you?"

"I was thinking of going home… I haven't seen my family since I moved here."

"I bet you miss them. Like I'm going to miss you." He added with a playful wink.

"Maybe not. I'd like for you and Keiki to come with me."

"You really can't stay away from me, can't you Valentine?" Bryce shot a cocky smirk in her way as she rolled her eyes although the corners of her lips rose up a little. She stopped walking and tugged his hand, making him turn towards her.

"Hey, I mean it. I want to spend the holidays with you and Keiki as well."

"Are you sure?" He took a small piece of falling hair and put it behind her ear, gently brushing her skin and she nodded, smiling at the sweet gesture.

"Of course I'm sure! Talk with Keiki about it and let me know what she thinks." They started to walk again as Bryce's arm sneaked around her waist.

"Your family will be okay with that?"

"I may kinda tell them about you already."

Her cheeks redden a bit. "And there's a chance that they want to meet you."

"Did you tell them how great I am?" Bryce smiled confidently, his finger softly squeezing her waist as she giggled.

"Oh yeah, I told them to make the door hole bigger for your ego." She playfully nudged his side and he chuckled. "And… How you stayed with me during the attack and how worried you were about me. And how important you are for me."

"You are important for me too." He kissed the side of her head as their feet continued walking almost at their own.

The weeks passed and, after talking with Keiki about it, they organized the trip. The plan was easy. Or at least, it should have been. They had planned everything with Casey, the plane tickets, going for Keiki at her school, the presents, the luggage, everything was ready. But, sometimes, things don't work out the way it was expected.

"So, we finish our shift in one hour, you go for Keiki, I grab my luggage, go to your place and do the online check in, then we take an Uber from there to the airport." Casey closed her locker stretching her back a bit. "Should be easy."

"Ready to meet the parents-in-law, Lahela?" Jackie asked, smirked mockingly from her own locker.

"You kidding? Parents love me. Especially if they have good taste as their daughter." In that instant, all the beepers started to blare.

"E.R. A burning building." They all headed to the emergency entrar, a few ambulances already at the door. Casey ran toward an unconscious man with his face burnt as Bryce followed a bed in which a woman laid with an iron rod going through her leg. He washed his hands and prepared, once the patient was asleep, his hand started to move around the wound stable and firm as he slowly and with the assistant of a nurse pulled out the long iron tube.

"Suction." His voice commendatory and his eyes glued in the patient. The nearest nurse immediately reacted but the blood kept coming. Two hours and half, he was leaving the patient room after talking with the family and rushing to the ER once more. Before anyone had noticed, another four hours had passed and the hectic rhythm had finally calmed down.

"Okay, I'm not going to lie, that was a little set back--"

"A little? Going to Keiki's and back is four hours, the airport it's forty minutes away and we still need the luggages and do the check in and the plane leaves in seven hours!" Casey said incredulously, as they rushed to the parking lot to Bryce's car.

"--But we still can work with it!" He said so confident that Casey almost relaxed as his cell vibrated. "It's Keiki."

'Rushing late?' Keiki wrote with an annoying emoji.

'You think?' He answered with the same face. 'On our way.' He sat behind the wheel as Casey took the passage seat, they headed straight for Keiki's school, making one stop to take away coffee as Bryce asked her more about her family. He already knew that she had a big brother, two small nieces, a few cousins and a pretty good relationship with her parents. He knew that she missed them and talked to them at least once a week.

"Finally!" Keiki dropped her luggage in the backseat. "Hi Cass!"

"She gets a full 'Hi Cass' and I only received annoying emojis and complaints?" Keiki rolled her eyes and hugged her big brother and Bryce bearhugged her back. "That's better."

"Okay, we still have five hours until the flight, with a little luck we may have time to take a break before that."

"Casey?" Bryce looked surprised at his sister's shy tone.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for including me. You didn't have to."

"Not including you never was even an option Kei, it is my absolute pleasure!" She turned her head to watch the teenager in the backseat, grinning. "They will love you."

"What about me?" Bryce asked playfully, giving her his best puppy eyes.

"You are the one dating me so you are in a tough spot, Lahela."

"Ouch."

"Nervous, Bryce?" Keiki said in what was supposed to be an innocent tone.

"Please." He shrugged cockily.

"Hey, the road is pretty clear! Maybe we have time after all!" Casey pointed, cheerfully, watching through the window until her face falled down. "Oh no! I jinx it!" A police officer was standing in the, now closed, road swerving cars to the right.

"We still have time." Bryce took her hand and laced his finger with hers as the car slowed down, until stopped at the end of a long line of cars. "Don't worry gorgeous." She squeezed his hand back, leaning her back in the seat as her head fell back, sighing and closing her eyes for a moment.

"You are right. And there's nothing we can do about it." After three hours of frustration waiting, they finally pulled over in Casey's apartment so she could grab her luggage.

"So, did you bought it?" Keiki leaned in the space between the two front seats, talking conspiracy low and watching to the building front door.

"Yeah, I retired it before work, I still have it with me." Bryce took a small velvet box and opened. Inside a white gold heart locket sparkles as he hands it to Keiki. "What do you think?"

"It's perfect for her. She is going to love it." Bryce smiled. It was not only the first time that they spent a holiday together or the first time that he brought her something, it was also the first time he brought a gift to someone this special for him. And he was ready to put all his feelings for her out.

"Thanks for giving me your opinion about it, Kei."

"I know you would be lost without me." She said smoothly.

"Don't push it, kid."

"She's coming." Bryce shoved the box back in his pocket and rushed outside the car to help her. They went to his place, parked in the building parking lot in a space that Bryce had rented for those days, and dash to his apartment.

"You grab your luggage and meanwhile I call an Uber."

"Perfect." He went towards his bedroom and, checking that Casey couldn't see him, placed the box in the bottom of the suitcase, covering it with clothes and finally closing it. Bryce was convinced that if anyone ask him how they made it to the plane, he wouldn't know the answer, he knew they had ran through the airport, like the McCallister family in 'Home Alone', that the check in had been the most slow one he ever made in his entire life and the judging looks as they embarked after delayed the plane for twenty minutes.

Keiki took the window seat, immediately putting her headphones over her head as Bryce sat in the middle with Casey at his left. She scratched her back and rolled her shoulders, yawing.

"Cass, are you okay? Today was..."

"... Awful?" He chuckled.

"That's one way to put it."

"You are here so I'm more than okay."

"You flatter me, Valentine."

"Yeah, well… After all, there's a reason why you are the first guy I take home for the holidays." She leaned her head on the side of his arm, closing her eyes as her hand found his and gently took it.

"You want to know a little secret?" He asked close to her ear.

"Shoot."

"You are the first I spend the holidays with. Ever." Her eyes kept close but her smile brightened up her whole face, showing, without words, how happy she was.

❣️

#choices 12 days of ficmas #12 days of fictmas 2020 #12 days of fictmas #dr bryce lahela x mc #bryce lahela x mc #choices bryce #bryce x casey #oh bryce

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leelee10898 · 4 years ago

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Choices 12 days of fictmas 2020 Masterlist

Day 1

12 days of Drakemas by @the-soot-sprite

All I want for Christmas by: @lucy-268

12 days of fictmas by: @msjr0119

Simple little Christmas by: @ofpixelsandscribbles

Day 2

12 days of Drakemas by: @the-soot-sprite

The one ive been missing by: @kat-tia801

12 days of fictmas by: @alj4890

Wine and fire by: @camillemontespan

Day 3

The heart of nerve by:@glaimtruelovealways

12 days of Drakemas by:The-soot-sprite

Day 4

Merry Squishmas by: @ao719 & @cocomaxley

The seas within me by: @cordoniantrash

12 days of Drakemas by: @the-soot-sprite

Up in flames by: @emichelle

Day 5

Undeniable miracle by:@axwalker

Mistletoe by:@plumeriavibes

Fight tonight by: @burnsoslow

12 days of Drakemas (jingle bells) by:@the-soot-sprite

Day 6

Only thing I need by: @kat-tia801

Undeniable miracle stranded. by:@axwalker

12 days of Drakemas (last Christmas)by: @the-soot-sprite

Day 7

A miss match Christmas: Matched for disaster by: @leelee10898

Christmas in the country by:@annekebbphotography

12 days of Drakemas (jolly old saint Nicholas) by: @the-soot-sprite

Day 8

12 days of Drakemas (sleigh ride) by: @The-soot-sprite

Nutty Christmas by: @cordoniansgonewild

My kind of present by:@ofpixelsandscribbles

On the 8th day if Christmas by: @innerpostmentality

Day 9

12 days of Drakemas by:The-soot-sprite

Once upon a merry birthday pt 1 by: @katedrakeohd

Once upon a merry birthday pt 2 by:@katedrakeohd

Let your heart be light by: @burnsoslow

9th day if Christmas by: @alj4890

Day 10

Merry Christmas, happy holidays by:@plumeriavibes

12 days of drakemas (silent night)by: The-soot-sprite

Lonely hearts club by: @janezillow

Day 11

Dad King by:@plumeriavibes

12 days of Drakemas by: The-soot-sprite

Jingle bell rock by: @annekebbphotography

Day 12

12th day of Drakemas by:The-soot-sprite

You make it feel like Christmas by:@lucy-268

Sojourn: holiday hijinks by: @zaffrenotes

Santa comes to town by: @twinkleallnight

#choices 12 days of fictmas #12 days of fictmas 2020 #12 days of ficmas #12 days of fictmas Masterlist 2020

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alj4890 · 4 years ago

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12 Days of Ficmas

Day 2

(Thomas Hunt x OC*Amanda) in a Choices Red Carpet Diaries Christmas one shot.

A/N I always love these two and their awkward ways of admitting they want more than friendship. What better way to do so than at a holiday party that is nothing but chaotic? This fic grew longer and longer as I worked on it. I blame my daydreaming and my lack of self-control. Woooo 2020! LOL!

12 Days of Ficmas writers and readers list

@texaskitten30 @leelee10898 @emichelle @zaffrenotes @burnsoslow @kat-tia801 @darley1101 @msjr0119 @annekebbphotography @god-save-the-keen @plumeriavibes @ofpixelsandscribbles @camillemontespan @ao719 @cocomaxley @cordoniansgonewild @twinkleallnight @the-soot-sprite @cordoniantrash @axwalker @innerpostmentality @lucy-268 @janezillow @katedrakeohd @mom2000aggie @sfb123 @bbrandy2002 @debramcg1106 @desireepow-1986 @speedyoperarascalparty @hopefulmoonobject

Thomas Hunt List

@krsnlove @lxaah11 @alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @annekebbphotography @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @greywitchyshots @lilyoffandoms @moodyvalentinestories @emceesynonymroll @my-heart-beats-for-ya @aworldoffandoms @ab1901 @flyawayboo @i-bloody-love-drake-walker . @trappedinfanfiction @kate-mckenzie @everythingmarvelsherlockspn @trappedinfandoms

Song Inspiration: Underneath the Mistletoe by Kelly Clarkson and Brett Eldridge

Masterlist

Mistletoe Madness

November 28th...

"Well," Ryan began as soon as he entered Thomas's suite. "He did it again."

"Again? How delayed will we be this time?" Thomas demanded.

"We're looking at another six weeks." The former heartthrob movie star recently turned executive producer poured them both a drink. "Given the holidays approaching, I suspect it will be closer to nine weeks."

Thomas grumbled about never again agreeing to producing another person's film.

If he had not witnessed the young director's raw talent firsthand, he would have never joined this venture. With Ryan Summers urging him on to support the next generation, he had somehow ended up spending the last few months in New York City and basically babysitting a twenty-two year old recent film graduate.

"Austin swears this will be the last time." Ryan explained.

Thomas took a healthy gulp of scotch. "Are we certain he isn't in over his head?"

"You've seen the dailies." Ryan rubbed a hand down his face. "What do you think?"

Thomas slumped in his chair. "It is going to be a critically acclaimed film that sweeps the Oscars."

Ryan finished off his drink and stood up. "Don't worry. There is nothing like Christmas in New York."

"Except in my home." Thomas grumbled.

"Have no fear." Ryan's charming smile flashed. "I intend on hosting my annual Christmas party."

Thomas didn't bother to repress his shudder. "You mean that garish monstrosity that you refer to as an intimate gathering?"

"Can I help it that everyone loves me?"

"I believe you could." Thomas grumbled.

"Look on the bright side." Ryan reminded him. "Most of the people who love me are nearly three thousand miles away in California. This might actually be my most intimate gathering yet."

"True." Thomas rubbed the back of his neck. "I suppose one night of revelry won't kill me."

"There's that Christmas fortitude." Ryan set his empty glass down. "I'll let you know when the plans are finalized."

On his way out the door, he sent an image with a couple of phrases to a few groups in his contact list.

Christmas Party: Where? 80 Fifth Avenue at 14th Street, 17th Floor PH, New York, NY When? 7p.m., December 17. Why? You already know the answer. RSVP? Only if you want to come inside.

Within seconds of sending it, his phone began to chime nonstop with friends and acquaintances saying they would fly in just for his party.

******************

December 14th...

"Oof!" Amanda tried to keep from falling over. "I'm so sor--"

"My fau--Amanda!" Ryan grasped her arms. "What are you doing in New York?"

"Some of Cordonia's nobles were invited for a World Tourism forum." She explained. "What about you?" Her teasing smile formed. "Why are you not in sunny California?"

He chuckled and linked his arm with hers, guiding her toward a nearby coffee shop. "I'm currently here as a producer."

"I had heard that you were stepping behind the camera for a change."

"Producing seemed the easiest." He shook his head with a laugh. "I never knew I could be so wrong."

After placing their orders and finding a table in a secluded corner, he asked how long she would be in New York.

"I was supposed to leave with everyone yesterday." She picked at her chocolate croissant. "But I decided to stay a few more days and do some Christmas shopping."

"So it’s just you?" He asked.

"Just me." She smiled at him. "I don't have anyone complaining about the cold weather or my tendency to linger near Christmas decorations."

"Speaking of Christmas decorations," he held his phone up, "Did you receive my party invitation?"

"I did. I didn't RSVP because I wasn’t sure how long I would stay here."

"Then allow me to RSVP for you." He quickly added her to the list. "Can't have one of my favorite duchesses alone this weekend."

She chuckled. "Who else is coming?"

"The usual." He flashed a smile. "You know most of them. One in particular."

Her eyebrow lifted. "Now I am curious."

"Thomas has been here with me." He explained. "We are both producers--"

"I know." She said softly.

"You do?" His smile grew mischievous. "Just how close did you two become when he filmed in Cordonia last spring?"

She squirmed in her chair. "We became friends."

"Friends or friends?"

"Ryan..." She could feel a headache forming at his prodding.

"Sorry." He relaxed back in his chair. "I know it is none of my business. Just because I am friends with both parties doesn't mean that I have a right to know if they moved out of that friendship phase of--"

"Thomas was right." Amanda playfully threw her napkin at him. "You really don't stop talking."

"Well," he shrugged. "I mean there are ways I enjoy being forced to shut up." He winked at her. "But I don't think you want to go down that road, at least not with me."

"You are impossible." She shook her head in resignation.

"I know." Ryan straightened in his chair when he noticed the time. "I have a meeting with one of the caterers." He flashed a smile as he stood up. "Want to come along and keep me company?"

"I should try and finish my shopping." She glanced down at the different bags of Tiffany blue, Gucci white, and Cartier red. "Especially now that I have to find something to wear for your party."

"Come with me and then I will help you find whatever you want." He took her bags before she could give an answer. "I could use someone else's opinion on appetizers."

"I suppose I have to say yes, since you're holding my purchases hostage."

He chuckled at her teasing while offering his arm. "Come with me, duchess, if you ever want to see these again."

Slipping her arm through his, they set off down Fifth Avenue.

*****************

Later that night...

Thomas wrapped a towel around his waist as he stepped out of the shower. He rolled his shoulders in an attempt to work the many knots of stress that persisted after fourteen hours of filming.

I should have remained in the director's chair.

The need to take control was growing stronger than ever. It was a wonder that he had not broken the arms off of the chair he sat in as he attempted to keep his mouth shut. The ridiculously young director had made numerous decisions he wanted to change.

But it isn't my vision we are going for.

As he rubbed a towel through his hair, he heard the familiar ping of notifications on his phone.

He picked it up, smiling at seeing Amanda's name as part of an alert.

It disappeared when he saw the following images.

She was in New York. With Ryan.

And it looked like they were more than friends.

"Why didn't she tell me she was here?" He muttered to himself.

He swiped through the images of smiling Ryan sitting on a couch at Versace while Amanda twirled in a dress for him.

He then saw an image of the two walking out of a coffee shop, arm in arm.

Thomas tossed his phone on the bed as he hurried to dress. Frustration built within him at the thought that Ryan might feel something for her.

After months of debating how to broach the subject of dating, he couldn't believe that he might have missed his opportunity with her.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock at his door.

Eyes narrowed when he saw who it was through the peephole.

"Ready?" Ryan asked as he walked in. "I was able to get us a table at Cote for..." He trailed off when Thomas turned his back on him. "What's wrong? No to Korean barbecue or did Austin flounder again?"

"No."

"Still struggling with his directing decisions?" Ryan asked.

"No. In a way. But no." Thomas bit out.

He knew he was being unreasonable. Ryan couldn't possibly know how he felt about the duchess since he had not bothered to share that with anyone.

Still, it should have been him running around New York with her instead of his flirtatious, playboy friend.

Wondering just how serious Ryan was about Amanda, he decided to casually get some information out of him.

"How did the party planning go?"

"Better than I expected." Ryan's smile reappeared. "Everything is set. Music, food, drinks, and decorations will be on theme this year."

"Ah." Thomas mumbled. "And the theme is?"

"You'll see." Ryan winked. "You won't believe who I ran into today."

Finally. "Who?"

"Amanda Bridgerton. There was some type of forum she had to attend last week and she decided to remain here on her own for some extra days of fun and shopping." Ryan replied.

"Is she coming to your party?" Thomas asked.

"It took some of my powers of persuasion, but I got her to agree."

"She should have let me know she was here." Thomas cleared his throat. "It would have been nice to see her."

"I asked her about that when she said she knew you were in New York." Ryan cocked his head to the side as he studied his friend. "She said she didn't want to bother you while you worked."

"Amanda isn't a bother." Thomas felt a little better at hearing that.

It does sound like the thoughtful thing she would normally do.

"That's what I told her." Ryan replied, checking the time again. "If you don't hurry, we’ll be late in meeting her for dinner."

Thomas's head jerked up. "We're having dinner with Amanda?'

"Why wouldn't we?" Ryan slowly smiled. "Once I told her that you would welcome a distraction from producing, she readily agreed to dinner."

The pictures then were like any other from gossip magazines. Completely innocent.

Ryan noticed an expression of relief form on Thomas's face.

He leaned forward in his chair. "Just how close were you two in Cordonia?"

Thomas's flush told the actor all he needed to know.

"We became friends." He muttered on his way back into the bathroom.

"Friends, huh?" Ryan rubbed his hands together. "I guess that's why Amanda is still single."

*****************

Cote NYC, an hour later...

"There she is." Ryan pointed towards a table to the right of the restaurant.

Amanda was studying the menu and didn't notice them walking in.

Thomas felt that same jolt to his heart that he had each time he saw her. Knowing she would be here with him, with no distractions, made him decide to test the proverbial waters.

The moment she looked up, her eyes immediately went to Thomas.

Her smile was filled with warmth and a touch of shyness when she stood up to greet him.

His lips grazed her cheek as he took her hands.

Even in the dim light, he could see her blush.

Ryan glanced from one to the other and cleared his throat. After a second, louder clearing to get their attention failed, he spoke up.

"I'm here too."

Amanda pulled her hands out of Thomas's grasp.

"Haven't I seen you somewhere before?" She teased.

Ryan dramatically clutched his chest. "Did our day out together mean nothing to you?"

She shook her head at his foolishness. "I might have enjoyed it, if you hadn't made me try on so many dresses."

She sat back down and felt a thrill go through her body when Thomas slid in next to her.

He draped his arm along the back of their booth and turned more towards her as they talked.

Ryan observed the two closely, a slight smirk on his lips at discovering that there was a definite attraction between the two.

His party's mistletoe theme would go a long way in helping these two.

*****************

Towards the end of dinner, both men received a cryptic text from Austin.

Ryan lifted an eyebrow. "Do you understand what he is talking about?"

"Unfortunately, I do." Thomas slipped his phone back in his pocket. "We better go in case he decides to try and dangle a camera from the Empire State building.

Ryan motioned to the waiter for the check.

Amanda tried to not be too disappointed. She hadn't realized how much she had missed being around Thomas until she had him sit next to her. The dinner had been the best she had had in a long time.

And it had nothing to do with the food.

His attention had settled on her and remained. It was a wonder she had not become tongue tied under his steady, dark gaze. His fingers grazed her shoulder every so often each time he settled his arm along the back of their seat.

If only they could have been alone without anyone disturbing them.

"Where are you staying?" Thomas asked.

"The Ritz-Carlton." Amanda wrote her suite number down for him. "Twenty-first floor."

He slipped it into his pocket before giving her his hotel and room information.

"We aren't too far away from you." He smiled softly at her. "Perhaps after we calm Austin down, we can plan on meeting up."

"I would love that." She took his hand as he helped her out of the booth.

"If nothing else, you two can meet up at my annual Christmas party." Ryan added.

Thomas and Amanda both stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.

"That's true." She mumbled.

"It is a small gathering still. Isn't it?" Thomas asked.

Ryan shrugged as he led the way out.

"Do you know how big it will be?" Thomas whispered.

"No." Amanda's eyes narrowed. "But if I had to judge by the caterer's face when Ryan wrote down how many he was expecting, small is not going to be associated at all with his party."

***************

Dec. 17, Manhattan Penthouse, Fifth Avenue...

"I can't believe that we have been trapped with Austin the past few days." Thomas grumbled.

"Neither can I." Ryan slung an arm around his friend's shoulders and gave a gentle shake. "Cheer up. We now have two weeks or so of freedom from the boy wonder."

"There is that." Thomas eyed the growing number of people coming in. "Aren't you supposed to greet your guests?"

"Nah. Everyone knows who I am." Ryan replied. "But I will go mingle."

Once he disappeared into the crowd, Thomas lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Every five feet or less, a sprig of mistletoe dangled with lights and tinsel. The plant was hung from the main bar to every inch of the ballroom. There were even a set over the bathroom doorways.

Between the open bar and whatever alcoholic concoction Ryan's Christmas punch was made of, this holiday party would soon turn into a different sort of gathering.

Thomas wanted no part of an almost drunken orgy.

The only reason he had come was so that he could see Amanda. The long hours working with Austin had offered nothing except a quick phone call to apologize that he couldn't meet up with her. The few texts they exchanged were filled with understanding and a hope to see each other soon.

He hoped to find her in this crowd that was quickly getting larger and entice her away. Go someplace quiet where he could talk to her about taking that next step that would change everything.

That shouldn't be too difficult, he thought as he began to walk around.

But Thomas had made one mistake.

He was walking a path covered in mistletoe.

**************

An hour later...

"There you are!" Ryan greeted Amanda with a kiss on her cheek. "I was afraid you weren't coming."

"It was a long line for the elevator." She looked around at the crowded room. "Looks like you invited everyone."

"Not everyone." Ryan handed her a cup of punch. "I forgot to invite my financial advisor. One of the guys that serves coffee. Probably a couple of others."

Not paying attention, Amanda took a big gulp of the punch. She struggled to get a deep breath as she felt the alcohol burn a path down her throat to settle with the sensation of a small fire forming in her stomach.

"What," she wheezed, "is in this?"

"Old Summers family secret." He nudged her cup up to take another swallow. "The first is the hardest. The ones that follow make everything bright."

"Don’t you mean right?" She took a tentative sip and realized he was right. The fire was gone, leaving her with an aftermath of warm giddiness. Finishing off her cup, she smiled while admiring his decorations. "It really does make everything bright."

He chuckled while pouring her another one. "Enjoy duchess. I have to go talk to the couple that just walked in." Ryan gestured toward the back of the ballroom. "I saw Thomas over there earlier."

Before she could say anything, he disappeared.

Smiling from not only the Christmas punch but also at the thought of spending time with the man she secretly loved, Amanda began to weave her way through, pausing only long enough to greet those she knew.

***************

"For the love of--" Thomas suffered through another overly eager kiss.

This particular wannabe celebrity told him she was a popular YouTube personality.

It took all of his willpower to keep from telling her that he truly didn't care about her type of fame nor anything about her. He untangled himself from her arms and picked up his pace.

Being blocked in by Ryan's guests on one side and tables on the other, he had yet to escape the long line of mistletoe.

"Dammit!" He was grabbed once more.

"Is that any way to greet me, Thomas?" A sultry actress cooed.

"Good evening, Ava." He grasped her arms. "If you will excuse me--"

"You're under the mistletoe." She gripped the lapels of his blazer. "You know what that means?"

"Unfortunately, I do." He grumbled. Closing his eyes, he subjected himself to the kiss she pressed to his lips.

When Thomas was finally released, he first took pleasure in the disappointed expression on Ava's face from his lack of response.

Then his heart dropped at the person who stood a few feet away, staring at him.

Amanda turned away when Thomas locked eyes on her. Her mind jumped from one wild thought to another.

Thank God I didn't tell him how I felt! What if I had and then he had been forced to point out which woman he preferred? I need to leave. No! Then he'll suspect! I have to stay. Smile. Drink, dance, and be merry. Act like my heart didn't drop at the sight of Thomas being kissed by a woman I can't ever compete with.

She knew she couldn't run away so she remained in place. With a neutral expression on her face, she watched him out of the corner of her eye walk over to her.

"Amanda, I--that display you--I--" Thomas stuttered.

She turned toward him with a friendly smile firmly on her lips. "Thomas," she began with a slight, carefree laugh, "what can one do when caught under the mistletoe?"

Thomas blinked, taken aback when she casually shrugged the incident away.

Her heart was thudding as if she had sprinted. Pretending to not be affected by everything was too hard with his attention on her. She needed a temporary escape.

She called upon the things her friends in Cordonia depended on when upset.

Olivia would tell her to face the situation head on.

Not something I want to do.

Drake would go to the bar.

I've already had too much Christmas punch.

Hana would suggest desserts.

The table is too far away.

Maxwell would suggest to dance one’s troubles away.

Hmm. I could do that.

Her eyes scanned some of the men that stood nearby. Catching Ryan's eye, she nodded toward the dance floor with a silent plea.

He smiled at her. Coming over to do as she wanted, he noticed Thomas and glanced curiously back and forth at the two.

"Duchess?" He held his hand out. "Care to dance?"

"I would love to." She turned to a shocked Thomas. "Would you mind holding my drink?"

When his fingers grazed hers, she looked up at his face. Her carefully guarded expression flickered revealing her angry frustration.

"Feel free to use my cocktail napkin." She snapped.

"Your napkin?" Thomas repeated. "Why?"

"That shade of lipstick isn't really your color." She lowered her eyes and stubbornly ignored his attempt to explain.

She grabbed Ryan's hand and pulled him to the dance floor.

Ryan immediately twirled her as the upbeat tempo began. Taking both her hands to pull her toward him, he lifted an eyebrow in silent question.

She shook her head. "Don't ask. Please."

His gaze momentarily softened to pity. "Then hold on tight." He broke out some swing dance moves in the hopes of getting her to smile.

Her laughter at the numerous twirls he spun her in with dramatic dips made him smile.

"You know?" He said, once she was upright. "The only way I was able to get Thomas to agree to come tonight was telling him that you would be here."

"Ryan." She muttered.

"Amanda." He countered with a flirty grin on his face.

She couldn't help but smile back. "How do you make it impossible to ignore you?"

"Part of my charm." He admitted, twirling her into his embrace right as the song came to an end. "Now go forth and be kissed by someone you like."

She looked about at the number of couples kissing on the dance floor. She then lifted her eyes to the ceiling, sighing in relief that they had danced in a mistletoe free zone.

"I don't know if I should be thrilled for the one you prefer or insulted at how happy you are not to be under the mistletoe with me." Ryan narrowed his eyes playfully.

She laughed and rose up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "Does that help?"

"Not really." He winked at her. "You just gave me a brotherly peck. I now have to find someone to bolster my flagging confidence."

She watched him dance away in search for a more kissable partner.

Amanda jumped when she felt someone grasp her hand.

Ignoring her surprise, Thomas pulled her off the dance floor.

"Thomas!" She tried to make him stop. "Where are we going?"

"Out." He stopped long enough to retrieve their coats.

"What about Ryan's party?" She couldn't stop her bitterness from spilling out. "Aren't there more people you hope to find under the mistletoe?"

"I never want to see that damn plant again." He snapped, gripping her hand as they stepped into the elevator.

They kept their eyes forward, trying to ignore the couples that joined them. Kisses were given as each seemed to still be in a haze from all the mistletoe..

They escaped and stepped out onto the sidewalk, each breathing a little easier.

Their eyes met.

"I should pro--"

"Walk with me--"

They closed their mouths and simply stared at one another.

"Will you go for a walk with me?" Thomas asked. "There is something I need to discuss with you."

Amanda hoped but honestly doubted that what he wanted to talk about was the subject she had intended to talk to him about.

Feelings are such a nuisance, she thought to herself.

With a brief nod, she began to walk towards Central Park. Once inside, she quickened her pace, hoping to burn up her frustration enough to calmly hear whatever it was he wished to say.

Without a word, Thomas kept up with her. When she started to slip on an icy patch on the walkway, he swept her into his arms.

Her breath hitched as her body slid directly against his.

Their noses bumped against one another’s.

Thomas tightened his arms around her refusing to lose this one chance to have her undivided attention. He had argued with himself about cutting in the entrie time she danced with Ryan. That ridiculous party would be the last time he allowed anything to keep him from finding out if she felt as strongly as he did.

"What," her voice cracked, "what did you want to talk about?"

His lips curved somewhat at seeing she was just as affected by being close to him as he was her. "Us."

Her eyes dropped down to his lips. "Us?"

His eyes drifted down her face, pausing at her mouth. "Yes."

"Oh." She breathed the word as his head slowly dropped toward hers.

He gently captured her lips in a tender kiss.

Thomas had felt nothing with those other kisses he had been given at the party. The spark from that touch of her lips warmed him to his toes. And yet, the mere brush of her gloved hand through his hair as he moved to kiss her again caused his skin to burn.

The kiss deepened, drawing an audible gasp from both at the sensation of the other's lips.

When they parted, their eyes met.

"Thomas, I--"

"I want to--"

Amanda bit her bottom lip. "You first."

Thomas smiled softly. "I'm in love with you."

"I love you too." She smiled against his lips when he kissed her again.

A thought popped into her mind, causing her to jerk away.

"Amanda, what--"

"I better never catch you in a room that has both beautiful actresses and mistletoe." She warned him.

He chuckled while cuddling her close. "You're the only one I will ever willingly stand under mistletoe for."

Amanda sweetly sighed at that as she pressed another kiss to his lips.

When his lips drifted down her cheek, she spoke up again.

"There was a corner at Ryan's party where one sprig of mistletoe wasn't being stepped under."

"Really?" He lifted his head. "That is a pity."

"Isn't it?" Her arms looped around his neck. "All alone. Without a purpose."

"I suppose we could go back and fulfill its one mission in life." He rested his forehead against hers. "Or..."

"Or?"

"We go somewhere private and pretend the entire room is covered in mistletoe."

"Private, hmm?" Amanda stepped out of Thomas's arms. "I think I would like to try this pretending."

He wrapped his arm around her as they walked out of the park. "If you follow my lead, I think you will enjoy yourself immensely."

#choices 12 days of fictmas #12 days of fictmas 2020 #12 Days of Ficmas #choices thomas hunt #Thomas Hunt #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #ryan summers #choices ryan summers

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

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White Boulder Christmas

Day 5 of 12 Days of Ficmas

Pairing: Stu Redman x fem!reader

Summary: You experience your first white Christmas in the Boulder Free Zone.

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Warnings: spoilers for The Stand (the book & the miniseries), fluff, angst, vague description of injuries.

A/N: The Stand is one of my favorite books of all time and I think about Stu a concerning amount, so I am very excited to try writing for him! He may be OOC but I'm planning to keep writing for him so I can improve. I used Gary Sinise's portrayal of him in the 1994 miniseries because he was amazing (I could talk about the 1994 adaptation and the book all day so if anyone has requests, feedback, or comments please please please send them to me!!)!

The last 200 miles into Boulder are the hardest. You thought the trip would be easier once you crossed the state line into Colorado. It isn’t. You haven’t seen another person in days, you’re tired, and the dreams are getting more intense. As the sun sets on a state you always wanted to visit - granted, it seemed more enjoyable before the virus, but it’s still beautiful - you break into a jog as you see the flickering lights of civilization. The town is tiny, and the only reason you know where you are is the small sign reading “Kiowa Creek Church.” Trying the doorknob of what used to be the municipal police station, you sigh as it opens easily. You thoroughly check the building before setting your backpack down, leaning it against a cell door to keep it open, and collapsing onto one of the cots.

“Boulder, here I come,” you whisper to the dilapidated ceiling before drifting to sleep, visions of corn fields and black crows invading your mind.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, there’s a wet nose pressed to the pulse point under your jaw. You jerk away from the unexpected and unwelcome touch, raising your hand to your neck. As you turn your body, you see a dog wagging its tail as it looks up at you. Your eyes widen as your hand falls into your lap before you squeal and lean forward to hug the dog.

“Kojak!” a deep voice yells outside.

“Is that you?” you ask the dog, scratching behind its ears as you stand. “Are you Kojak?”

When he hears his name, Kojak’s tail wags harder as he walks beside you, sitting at your feet as you gather your things.

“C’mon, Kojak,” you summon, snapping as he trots to your side to walk beside you.

The main door is barely open, proof that Kojak pushed inside to find you. Opening it the rest of the way, Kojak bounds out before you, stopping on the porch and looking between you and a man standing in the middle of the dirt road separating the buildings of Kiowa, Colorado.

“You find him yet?” another man, taller and younger than the first, asks, turning the corner.

“Kojak here found me,” you interrupt, waving shyly.

The younger man smiles a crooked grin that makes your heart drop as you forget why you’re in this deserted town in the first place.

“Well, then perhaps I owe him a thanks. I’m Stu Redman, this is Glen Bateman, and you’ve met Kojak,” he introduces, climbing the first step as he extends his hand to you.

You place your hand in his, shaking it as you introduce yourself. “Where are you going?” you ask, your hand still in Stu’s.

“Boulder. You?” Glen answers.

“Boulder,” you inform with a firm nod. “Not that I really had much of a choice.”

Stu smiles again and says, “Did any of us? I’ll assume you’ve met her then?”

“And him,” you add.

Stu drops your hand and steps off the stairs, gesturing with his head for you to join him.

“We have room for one more, right, Glen?”

You look down at Kojak, squatting to pet him again so Glen doesn’t think there is any pressure to say yes.

“Would it matter what I said, East Texas?” Glen replies; you’re thankful you can hear the teasing in his voice.

“East Texas?” you parrot, looking up at Stu.

“Born and raised in Arnette. Seems to have stuck.”

“Just like Kojak seems to be stuck to you,” Glen says. “What’d you do? Feed him?”

“No, he found me. I was asleep. I’m just glad to see another dog!” you exclaim cheerfully.

“Just the dog?” Stu clarifies, his brows raised playfully.

“Just the dog,” you agree, shaking your head as you smile.

“Well, then, who’s ready to get to Boulder?” Glen asks, pulling his backpack straps over his shoulder.

“Me,” you and Stu say together.

He slips his hand into yours to help you stand up, and you instantly know that the last 100 miles will be the easiest yet because you’re not alone.

✯✯✯✯✯

Stu turns to you, and you look away, harshly wiping the tears from your face. He steps to you, gently grabbing your wrists and pulling your hands away. He drops his head to catch your eyes, but you refuse to look at him.

“I won’t say bye,” you mumble, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m just giving you a hug to hold me over until we see each other again when I get back. Can you do that?”

“Only if you promise to come back.” You finally look up at him, and he releases your wrists to cup your face.

“I can’t make that promise.”

“And I can’t keep fighting without you.”

“I promise to do everything I can to come back to you. That’s all I can do for now.”

You bite your bottom lip and nod, your face in his hands. “I love you,” you whisper.

Stu’s eyes are glassy, but his smile is anything but sad as he looks at you. “That goes right back to you, ma’am,” he replies, leaning his forehead against yours after kissing it. “Wait for me?”

“Forever.”

You can’t stay with the other girls and wave them off because you know you’ll end up chasing him. Stu likewise doesn’t turn around when Larry does, instead keeping his eyes on the horizon as he promises himself and anyone else listening that he will do everything he has to do to get back to you. After he finishes the fight, he'll return to you, even if he can barely stand and has to fall into your arms.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Teddy, can you put me on the volunteer rotation for December?” you ask after a free-zone meeting. “It’s been the same people since we got here, and it’s almost Christmas, they deserve a break.”

Teddy smiles as he scribbles your name on a piece of paper before slipping it back into his pocket. “Absolutely. And thank you, they’ll really appreciate that.”

When you get a call the next day asking you to take a security post at the border of the Boulder Free Zone, you jump on the opportunity to help (and try to get your mind off Stu). The women in town are busy trying to do something small for Christmas but are worried that the scouts won’t be back in time, so there’s a debate as to whether or not it should be delayed until they return. In the anonymous vote, you chose to wait because you can’t imagine celebrating anything without knowing where Stu is. For tonight, though, you focus on your surroundings, not Stu’s crooked smile or East Texas accent. Or the moment he told you that he loves you.

Because of the low number of volunteers, the shifts are long. You’re five hours into a twelve-hour night shift when the first snowflake lands on your nose. You look up to the sky, unfamiliar with snow, especially in December. Within twenty minutes, snow is powdering the ground and continues falling, getting heavier each minute.

“A white Christmas,” you say quietly to yourself.

Then you laugh. Although your first white Christmas is in the Boulder Free Zone, surrounded by fear, fighting, and uncertainty, those little snowflakes are piling hope into your heart that everything will turn out fine.

Shaking your head, you return your attention to the night to protect your new family and temporary home, but you keep smiling as the temperature drops and the once-hopeless world turns white just in time for Christmas.

As the first rays of sunlight peek over the horizon, barely visible through the snow clouds, you hear an engine rumbling in the distance. The radio has been silent all night because no one else heard anything. As the noise gets louder, you’re positive someone is racing toward the Boulder Free Zone. You raise your rifle, looking through the scope to aim where the road twists around the hill. As the truck approaches the curve, it suddenly stops, and the engine dies. The night goes quiet, the sound of two doors closing the only proof you didn’t imagine the truck. When the first figure enters your sight on the scope, you drop your gun and run toward him.

“Tom!” you yell, fumbling to get your radio out of your pocket.

Tom looks up and says your name twice, first as a question, then an exclamation of joy. He drops his voice again to say, “He hurt his leg real bad.”

You look to your left and see the one man you’ve been waiting for since the moment he left.

“You waited,” Stu says, smiling as you rush to him and wrap your arms around his waist.

His arms loop over your shoulders and grip you tightly, pulling you against him like he’s melting into you.

“Let me radio for help,” you say into his chest.

Pulling back, you call Teddy and tell him that Stu and Tom are back before requesting a truck. He doesn’t answer with a yes or no, but the radio is full of cheers, yells, and crying, so you assume someone is on the way. Turning back to Stu, you let him lean against you and look down at his leg.

“Are you alright?” you ask quietly.

“I’m great now,” he answers, meeting your eyes when you look up.

“M-o-o-n, that spells great,” Tom says beside you.

“Is it just you two?” you whisper to Stu.

He nods, tightening his grip on you slightly.

“They saved our lives,” you add.

“It’s not just us,” Tom calls, “there’s one more. Laws, yes!”

You glance up at Stu, who furrows his brows. He catches on quickly and whistles. You look past him as Kojak runs around the corner and straight to you.

“Kojak!” you cheer, reaching down with the hand not supporting Stu. “I’m so happy to see you, buddy!”

“You didn’t get that excited about me,” Stu grumbles.

You look up at him and begin to say something, but the sound of a truck approaching cuts you off. The headlights on Teddy’s truck fall on you as he parks, helping Stu into the passenger seat while you, Tom, and Kojak get in the back. You can’t see much of him, but you watch Stu the entire drive to the hospital, holding Kojak as you smile, glad to have your boys back.

Once you get Tom home and settled, you and Kojak return to the hospital, checking on Fran before taking your seats in Stu’s room, Kojak on the end of his bed and you at the window, watching the snowfall. When Stu wakes up, he smiles at Kojak before looking around the room.

“First time seeing snow?” he asks.

You turn when you hear his voice, smiling as you walk to his side. “No. But it is my first white Christmas,” you answer, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve always dreamed of a white Christmas. Dreams change though.”

“Meaning?”

“I would trade a white Christmas for a Christmas with you,” you admit shyly.

He kisses your knuckles before shifting in the bed, inviting you to sit beside him. You watch the snow and each other as you talk about your Christmas traditions pre-Captain Trips. The doctor comes in to check on him several times and gives you updates on Fran as well. When he finds out he can be released in a day or so, he starts walking through the hospital on his crutches, taking you and Kojak with him, determined to walk on his own by Christmas.

✯✯✯✯✯

December 22, three days before Christmas, you and Stu are walking out of the hospital with no crutches needed. He suddenly pulls his hand from yours, and as you turn around to ask him what’s wrong, a snowball hits you in the middle of the chest. Your jaw drops as you look at Stu, two more snowballs in his hands.

“After everything I’ve done for you,” you call dramatically, kneeling to make a snowball.

“You love me,” Stu yells.

“Luckily for you,” you reply as you throw a snowball, hitting him in the shoulder.

As you exchange snowballs, laughing and yelling with more joy than you thought was possible to feel given the previous year, you’re glad Christmas is on schedule. The people around you need it more than ever.

“Ow!” Stu yells, falling backward into a snowbank.

You drop your snowballs and run to his side, kneeling beside his uninjured leg. “Did you hurt your leg again?” you ask.

He raises a hand to your bicep and rolls over, pushing you into the snow as he hovers above you, smiling.

“You’re okay?” you ask, breathless. Stu nods, and you release a sigh before shaking your head at him. “You scared me.”

His eyes are locked on yours as he whispers, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. More than I can say.”

He leans down and kisses you, smiling against your lips as he slips his gloved hand between your head and the snowbank beneath you. Your hands rise to his shoulders as you pull yourself toward him, shivering against him. He breaks away, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before standing and helping you up, your hand secure in his as he walks you home.

There’s a small Christmas tree in your front window, and Stu smiles when he sees it. Kojak meets you at the door, circling your legs as you take your coats, hats, and mittens off.

“Stu?” you ask as he stands, wiping his hands after starting a fire. “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I couldn’t leave you. Especially now that I know you’re celebrating your first white Christmas,” he responds, walking to stand in front of you, the Christmas tree on one side and the warmth of the fire on the other.

“So, what now? I mean, what happens after Christmas? Are you going home, East Texas?”

He cups your face, just as he had before leaving, and smiles when you lean into his touch, his warmth. “I don’t care where I go,” he answers, “As long as you’re by my side for this Christmas, and every Christmas after.”

“Even if they’re not white?”

“Say you want them all white and we’ll go wherever you want, ma’am.”

“I want to go wherever you are,” you state, wrapping your fingers around his wrists.

He drops his hands and grabs your waist, pulling you in to kiss you. He whispers against your lips, “We’ll figure it out after Christmas.”

You nod against him, waiting until you break apart to say, “I love you.”

“I’ve loved you since I laid eyes on you, and I will love you until there is no such thing as a white Christmas.”

You smile, ready to say more, but his actions speak louder as he pulls you in again, Kojak curling up at your feet as the snow grows heavier and Boulder turns white, just in time for your first Christmas with Stu.

#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics #stu redman x reader #stu redman #the stand #stephen king #fem!reader #stu redman fluff #fluff

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zaffrenotes · 5 years ago

Text

Dreaming of a White Christmas

Pairing: Liam x Katrina Rating/Warnings: G – all sweet fluff Author’s Note: * All main characters belong to Pixelberry, I’m just borrowing them * Time jump in the Serendipity AU series, where Liam is a regular college kid who falls for Katrina (roughly one year after they meet) * Forgive any typos/faulty translations in Korean, I haven’t slept and I just need to whoosh this document off my screen already, lol * This is my submission for The 12 Days of Ficmas, hosted by @leelee10898 * Word Count: +/- 4500 because I cannot shut.up. about these adorable dorks in this AU

Contributors: @hopefulmoonobject @allaboutchoices @zaffrenotes @cordoniantrash @burnsoslow @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore @msjr0119 @texaskitten30 @janezillow @the-soot-sprite @mskaneko @blackcatkita @darley1101 @thecordoniandiaries @speedyoperarascalparty @ao719 @leelee10898 @cocomaxley @theroyalweisme @alj4890 @bbrandy2002 @cordoniansgonewild @god-save-the-keen @debramcg1106 @emichelle @annekebbphotography @brightpinkpeppercorn @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria

Readers: @dangerouseggseagleartisan @innerpostmentality @beardedoafdonutwagon @desiree-0816

Katrina let out a weary sigh as she crossed another name off one of the sheets of paper fanned out across the dining table, shooting a look at her sister. Josephine leaned up against the wall by the window, staring out at the city below them, a wistful look in her eyes. “Jos,” she said, pulling another card from the box, “you said you were going to help with this.”

“Who even sends holiday cards anymore?” Josephine replied, her eyes still focused on something outside.

“My parents do,” Liam chimed in, glancing up from the couch. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, smiling softly as he watched Katrina get up from her seat to fill a large mug with coffee, walking across the apartment to swap it for the empty mug on the coffee table. He mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her and she winked at him as she went back to the kitchen to pour a cup for herself.

“Exactly,” Josephine sighed. “Only old people write cards.”

“Well if you think I’m sending e-cards or snaps or tik-tokking holiday greetings, you’re mistaken,” Katrina scoffed. “So get your ass back to the table and help. All you have to do is stick labels on the envelopes, I’m the one writing.”

Josephine rolled her eyes and slowly pushed herself away from the wall, chewing on her bottom lip as Frank Sinatra’s voice crooned out from the small Bluetooth speaker on the table.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas / Just like the ones I used to know

Katrina’s shoulders dropped, and she held the coffee pot mid-air, her heart aching for a few beats. Memories of holidays with Josie and their parents came flooding forward, and she looked around the apartment with her meager decorations – a small tree in one corner was strung up with lights but no ornaments, and garlands framed doorways but there were no stockings on the mantel.

She looked out at the window and understood why her sister seemed more melancholy than usual; it wasn’t white outside. There had been a few days where it snowed, but the New York City streets were cleared with general efficiency and anything left on the sidewalks quickly turned to muck from the exhaust and soot. Ol’ Blue Eyes with his velvet voice singing about white Christmases past only reminded them of what they used to have.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas / with every Christmas card I write

Katrina set the carafe down on the counter and walked to the window, talking to Josephine with a quiet voice. “I can’t control the weather, but you know I’d make it snow for you if I could, Jos.”

“I wish we could’ve had one more Christmas at the house,” Josephine whimpered.

“Me too kid, me too,” Katrina replied, tilting her head to her sister’s shoulder, wrapping one arm around her for a side hug. “Maybe we’ll get lucky and a freak blizzard will roll in next week.” She leaned against Josephine, and her sister responded with a tiny smile. “Help me with the cards?”

Josephine nodded and shrugged Katrina off her shoulder. “Yeah, yeah okay.” She took a seat at the table and started putting return address stickers on the corners of the envelopes, while Katrina finished making her coffee in the kitchen.

Katrina walked over to Liam, cradling the mug between her hands, and sat on the couch as he flipped through flashcards. Feeling her weight on the cushion next to him, his arm stretched out to pull her close to him, and without taking his eyes off the cards, he craned his head to her and kissed her temple. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her take a slow sip from her coffee mug before setting it down on the table. She leaned into him and he grinned at the sensation of her next to him. “What was that about?” he whispered, clicking his tongue at himself when he flipped the card over in his hand and set it in a pile to his left.

“We’re both a little bummed over the lack of winter wonderland weather this year,” Katrina whispered back. “Back in Boston, there would probably be a foot of snow on the ground with more on the way. I don’t even think they’ve mentioned snow in the forecast for next week.”

“Sorry sweetheart, I’d make it snow for you both if I could,” he replied, letting his shoulders drop. He squeezed Katrina’s shoulder three times with the hand still wrapped around her.

“How’s studying for your last final going?” she asked, peering at the notecards and papers laid out over the coffee table.

“Decent, I’ve got about two hours until the exam, and then I’ll be done.” Liam paused and looked down at Katrina, taking in the sad expression on her face. He set the flashcards down and turned to face her. “Hey, Trina.”

“Hey, Liam,” she smiled softly, though she was already starting to blink back tears.

“I’ll come back here after the final and we’ll all go to dinner, and I’m not leaving for two days.”

Katrina bit her bottom lip before looking up at Liam, his warm brown eyes full of care and concern. Faint lines across his forehead formed as he searched her eyes for an answer. “I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to miss you.”

Liam pulled Katrina in for a hug, wrapping his arms around her petite frame and pressed her to his chest. “Tell you what, let me pack tomorrow, and I’ll bring my things over here if you’ll put up with a third roommate for 48 hours…how does that sound? I’m sure Drake will like having a dorm to himself anyway.”

“Sounds like a plan,” she muttered against his chest.

Liam rubbed Katrina’s back and looked over at Josephine, who’d taken on a robotic motion of addressing envelopes. He had a plan of his own to put into action, and little time to make it happen.

.:.

“How on earth can we pack anything if you’re not telling us where we’re going?” Katrina sat on the floor of her bedroom, clothes and shoes scattered around her, with an open suitcase at her feet. Liam simply grinned down at her from the bed.

“You’ll need warm clothes, nothing super fancy or formal, but maybe an outfit or two to go out. Nice enough for church service, okay?”

Katrina groaned with frustration, causing Liam to chuckle. She pelted him in the chest with a pair of balled up socks. “Not. Helping!”

Liam sat up in the bed and took in the explosion of clothing around his girlfriend. “Those black dress pants over there,” he replied, motioning to a pair of slacks to her left. “Jeans, flannel shirts, comfy sweaters, thermal or two… uh, that ruffly green skirt with the black blouse, or the velvet pencil skirt with the sparkly sweater.” He felt the back of his neck warm as she smirked up at him, remembering the first time she wore each of those outfits for a date, and the memories they made together. “Boots. It’ll be cold, might be wet too.”

“That…helps a little,” she grinned, pulling items of clothing and tossing them at the open suitcase.

“NABI!” Josephine called out from her room. “Where is your dork of a boyfriend kidnapping us to? I don’t know what else to pack!”

Liam closed his eyes and laughed, shaking his head. “I heard that!”

“Cool, don’t care, dork!”

Katrina smiled and made her way up from the floor. “I’ll be back in a minute,” she said over her shoulder, before heading down the hallway.

While Liam waited, he exchanged texts with Leo on his phone.

Leo: Eleanor’s getting the house ready. Finally found a friend to give me a lift. You’re going WAY out of the way for this girl and her sister, Little Brother. Liam: I told you before she’s worth the effort. They both are. They need this, and it’s time this happened. Leo: Five bucks says Eleanor tells K to call her mom Liam: not funny Leo: who said I was kidding? Text you the parking spot when I park, see you Friday!

.:.

Bundled up at JFK, Liam, Katrina, and Josephine wheeled their suitcases into the airport towards an airline counter to check in. Josephine stifled a yawn as they made their way between other travelers, a sea of wool and down coats and luggage mixed with tired cries of small children. “Okay Rys,” Josephine began. “Unless you plan on knocking us out right now, where the hell are you taking us?”

“Identification, please.” A uniformed woman behind the counter smiled at the three of them. Josephine narrowed her eyes at Liam as she pulled her ID from her wallet, and Katrina and Liam slid their IDs on the counter as well. The agent started typing their names into the computer. “Liam Rys, and…Katrina and Josephine Bailey, yes? Checking any bags today?”

“Three, yes,” Liam replied.

The agent continued typing, and a printer spat out tags for their luggage. Liam moved each one onto the scale as the agent attached the tags before adding them to the conveyor belt behind her. A different printer hummed and spat out boarding passes, and she handed everything to Liam. “Your flight to Grand Rapids is on time, gate listed here,” she instructed, circling something on one of the passes. He glanced over to see Katrina and Josephine gawking at him with wide eyes, before Katrina elbowed her sister. “Here are your receipts for your checked luggage, and thank you for choosing us for your travel needs today. I hope you have a pleasant journey!”

They stepped aside and Liam started walking towards the security line. “Liam. Liam!” Katrina called out, walking faster to match his pace. “We’re going to Michigan?”

“More than that, actually,” he replied, handing them their boarding passes. Katrina tucked hers into a jacket pocket, while Josephine stared at hers for a moment before tucking hers into her jeans pocket. “I’m taking you both to my home.”

“What?”

Liam turned to see Katrina had stopped walking, and he walked back to her. “Surprise?” he forced a nervous smile at her. “You’ve said you always wanted to visit my hometown, and now you get to do just that.”

“But, your…home…” Katrina spoke slowly and calmly, though her mind was swimming. “Where your parents are.”

“They’re excited to meet you, Love.” Worry crept up Liam’s neck, and he started to wonder if this surprise was about to go horribly wrong.

“Your. Parents?” Katrina squeaked. “I’m going to meet your parents?”

“And Leo. It would be difficult to avoid them all at the house.”

“Oh my god dude, Nabi’s gonna kill you,” Josephine laughed. “You’re so dead. Nice timing not telling us until after they’d taken our suitcases, too.” She held up her phone and Liam could hear her taking pictures. “Ohh the looks on your faces right now!”

“Jos! Zip it!” Katrina hissed. “And stop taking my damn picture!” She turned back to look at Liam, a mixture of fear and anger in her eyes turning them nearly black. “You just…decided to surprise me and my sister with a getaway to meet your family? For Christmas?” The color had returned to her face – all too quickly, as anger started coursing through her veins. “You just decided to spring the ‘meet the parents’ thing on me, no time to prep or…I-I don’t even have a gift for them!”

Liam smiled softly at Katrina and took her hands in his, giving them a light squeeze. “They’re going to love you, Trina.” He let go of one of her hands and cupped her cheek, thankful to feel her lean into his hand. “We can pick up a gift for them when we land, if you like, but they’re not expecting anything.” He brushed the pad of his thumb against her cheekbone. “This was my poor attempt at granting a Christmas wish for the two of you the best way I knew how.”

“What Christmas wish?” Josephine asked.

“My parents told me it snowed two days ago, and another storm is coming in the next day or so. Plenty of pretty, white snow on the ground for you both.”

“You…” Katrina trailed off, realization setting in to their conversation a couple of days ago. She looked over to her sister, whose eyes were glossy with tears, and noticed Josephine’s chin quiver before she cast her eyes skyward and frantically blinked the tears away. “But, the tickets? And th—”

“Dad called in a favor from a friend of a friend, we traded in some miles, so they didn’t cost anything,” Liam answered. “Am I forgiven for the surprise parents part?”

Katrina’s brows pinched together and the corners of her lips turned down in a tiny frown of affection. She stepped closer and hugged Liam, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest, made even broader by the puffy jacket he was wearing. Tilting her chin up to face him, she smiled and shook her head. “Yes, you’re forgiven. But now I’m going to keep you awake during the flight with a million questions, and I need to stop at one of the gift shops!”

“Let’s get through security first,” he chuckled, motioning for them to resume walking.

.:.

Liam, Katrina, and Josephine lugged their suitcases behind them as they left the baggage claim area of the airport in Grand Rapids, Liam pulling the baseball hat down on his head as the cold air bit at his face when they stepped outside. He checked the text message on his phone from Leo and memorized the lot where he’d left the truck, taking the lead to show Katrina and Josephine where to go.

Upon reaching the family truck, Liam made quick work of warming up the engine and let Katrina and Josephine get settled inside while he loaded their larger suitcases in the truck bed, covering their things with a heavy tarp for the drive. He climbed into the driver’s seat and removed his jacket, noticing that Katrina held a bottle of wine in her hands, a festive red ribbon tied to the neck. “Where’d you find that?” He rubbed his hands in front of a vent to take the chill away.

“There was a basket of snacks and stuff in the back, and this was included,” she replied, handing the bottle over to him. “Look at the note.”

Liam flipped over the gift tag tied above the ribbon and smiled – See? I still do nice things! Sure to win points with Eleanor, Love Leo. “It’s one of my mother’s favorite wines,” he said, looking over to Katrina. “I guess Leo wants you to make a good impression too.” He twisted around in his seat to look at the other items Josephine pulled from the basket next to her – bottled water, thermos, small bags of trail mix, chocolates, and chips. “Okay, this is uncharacteristically nice of him to leave snacks for the ride.”

“Where is he? I thought someone was picking us up from the airport,” Katrina asked, settling into her seat.

“He dropped the truck off so I could drive us there, friend followed him to the airport to give him a ride back.”

“Just how far do you live from here?” Josephine inquired, pulling open a bag of chips.

“Uh, about…three hours north,” Liam answered, pulling out of the parking spot.

“Three hours?!”

“It’ll pass by like nothing, trust me,” he answered, moving his hands as he turned the steering wheel. “And what’d I tell you? Snow, everywhere,” he added, motioning to the snow piled high around the light posts in the lot.

The drive north passed by with ease, once they left the city limits. Liam smiled to himself as he navigated the two lane highway home, eyes darting to catch Katrina and her sister reacting to snow-covered trees lining either side of the highway, passing in a white blur of branches. Josephine’s face seemed to light up the longer he drove, quietly taking in the scenery. He chatted quietly with Katrina, pointing out spots he used to visit with Leo or his friends in high school, recounting stories with her and reaching over to hold her hand every few minutes.

They nodded off halfway into the drive, and he turned the music down to let them sleep as he continued driving. A mixture of excitement and nervousness sent his stomach rolling as he drove, anxious to return home and introduce his parents to the young woman that etched her name all over his heart. Liam didn’t expect to fall for Katrina as fast as he did, but that was part of her magic – she didn’t have to try with him. She’d simply been her caring, sassy, sometimes clumsy self, and he’d fallen for her within hours of meeting her. He knew that Leo would like her, as would his mother; their father would take a bit more time, but he knew she would find a way to win him over sooner or later.

Liam stretched his hand over to where Katrina’s rested in her lap, curling his fingers into her palm. He squeezed gently three times, and instinctively she returned the gesture, squeezing back three times. Her head turned to him and she slowly blinked her eyes open. “We’re nearly there – these are the woods before the house, but I didn’t want you to miss this view.” His voice was low and soothing as she yawned and stretched her arms to wake up. He smiled at her and pulled his hand away to tap at his phone attached to the console, turning the volume knob a few clicks to the right as Bing Crosby began to sing a familiar song. Katrina let out a dreamy sigh and smiled, reaching her arm behind her seat to tap at Josephine’s knee.

I’m dreaming of a white Christmas // Just like the ones I used to know // Where the tree tops glisten, and // Children listen to hear // sleigh bells in the snow

“Jos, Jos wake up,” she urged. “Look out the window.”

Josephine groaned at being woken up before cutting herself off. Liam glanced in the mirror to see her sit upright, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she took in the sight around them.

The sky was a bright, piercing shade of blue, and the tree-lined road glimmered in the sunlight. Dark branches balanced precarious levels of snow, bits of it falling and drifting to the ground with every gust of wind. Even the road was covered with a heavy layer of snow, packed down just enough to make out the path of tire tracks but little else to indicate a road even existed. “You live here?” Josephine whispered, a note of reverence in her voice.

“Just about,” Liam replied. “We live near the lake, so there’s lots of water and woods to admire.” He turned off the road to a smaller path, navigating the truck through the tracks laid out before him.

“This is beautiful, Liam,” Katrina murmured quietly.

“Wait about five minutes, you’ll say that again,” he grinned. He kept stealing glances to watch Katrina as she fixed her hair and primped a bit to make a good first impression, her eyes going wide as he turned the car and his home came into view.

A single-story farmhouse stood before them, quaint country décor on the covered porch. Red shutters and plaid cushions on rocking chairs stood out against the natural wood. A smile spread across Liam’s face as he pulled the truck to the side path, noticing his parents as they opened the front door, smiling wider when their golden retriever squeezed between their legs and followed the car through the covered portion of the porch as he slowed the truck to a stop.

Liam pulled the key from the ignition and silence fell inside the vehicle, followed by Katrina letting out a nervous breath. She looked over at Liam’s parents, already on the porch – his mother was petite like her, dark hair pulled back from her face. Liam had his mother’s eyes and smile. His father stood next to him and Katrina noted the same stoic expression on his face; it was one Liam used often when he studied, when he was deep in thought. She felt Liam reach for her hand, giving her three light squeezes. “You ready, Love?”

Katrina turned her head and looked over to Liam, excitement and love in his eyes, and she couldn’t help but smile at him. “Ready,” she replied, wrapping her other hand around the bottle of wine. “Let’s do this.”

“Leave the bags, I’ll bring them into the house later,” he said, exiting the car.

Katrina and Josephine hopped out of the truck, small grins on their faces as their feet crunched into the snow, and the trio made their way to the house and up the steps. Liam held the screen door open for them and Katrina smiled nervously at Liam’s parents, and the broad shouldered blonde man that could only be his brother Leo. Liam stretched his arms out and wrapped his mother in a warm embrace, and the Rys family exchanged hugs and smiles with one another.

“Mom, Dad, Leo,” Liam grinned as Leo clapped his shoulder. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Katrina Bailey, and her sister Josephine. Trina, Josie, this is my brother Leo, and my parents, Eleanor and Constantine.”

Josephine waved a silent hello to Liam’s family, and Katrina stepped forward to look at Liam’s father. “Mr. Rys, it’s an honor to meet you, and thank you so much for inviting my sister and I to stay with you and your family.” He nodded quietly in acceptance of Katrina’s greeting and shook her hand. She smiled and turned to Liam’s mother, handing her the bottle of wine. “Mrs. Rys, neoleul-wihan seonmul. Ulileul dangsin-ui jib-eulo chodaehae jusyeoseo gamsahabnida.” A gift for you. Thank you for inviting us to your home.

Katrina let out a tiny yelp as Eleanor Rys pulled her in for a hug. “Oh honey, it’s our pleasure to have you here,” she replied, patting Katrina’s back warmly. “Now get inside where it’s warm, and you two make yourselves at home.”

After a harried few minutes of wrangling coats and giggling as their dog pounced on Katrina for kisses, they made their way into the living room while Liam’s parents went to the kitchen to serve tea and warm apple cider. Katrina looked around the cozy living room, lit up from the afternoon light filtering through the large bay windows, letting out a bewildered gasp at the sight before her. Liam bumped into her while he was chatting with Leo. “What happened to the tree?” he asked his brother. Presents were stacked along a wall off to the side; while the bay windows had garlands and strings of lights hanging from the top ledge, the tree itself was bare, save for tiny white lights. “I thought you said they decorated!”

“They did,” Leo whispered. “Then you put your little surprise together and Eleanor wanted to…she’ll explain,” he added, ticking his head in the direction of the kitchen.

Eleanor walked in with a teapot and cookies on a tray, Constantine following her with a tray of mugs and warm cider. “Liam mentioned you two hadn’t gotten around to trimming your tree in New York.” Katrina nodded in response. “I thought you might like to do that with us, and look through some of Liam’s handmade ornaments in the process.”

“Yes please!” Josephine giggled.

“That would be wonderful, Mrs. Rys,” Katrina added.

“You can call me Eleanor, dear,” she replied, offering Katrina a cup of tea. “Costas, how about some music?”

Constantine grinned and set his tray down on the coffee table. “On it, my darling.” He walked over to an impressive shelf of vinyl albums, perusing them for something to set the mood.

Eleanor led Katrina closer to the tree and they started going through a box of ornaments, while Liam played with the dog, smiling on at them. Josephine admired a group of photographs on the wall as Leo got comfy on one of the couches, taking a few cookies off the plate. Soon the room filled with mellow holiday jazz, and Katrina’s heart swelled with happiness. She smiled as she began decorating the tree with Liam’s mother, and Josephine joined them, reveling in Eleanor’s stories of the popsicle stick and clothespin ornaments Liam and Leo gave her over the years when they were younger.

While Liam and Leo brought their suitcases and bags inside from the truck, Katrina opened a box to grab more ornaments and gasped as she lifted the lid. Inside were a dozen delicate red glass apples. “Ah, the boys gave those to me a few years ago, there’s a green set as well,” Eleanor explained.

“I have something else to give you as well, once Liam gets back with our luggage,” Katrina replied. She handed the box of ornaments to her sister and walked over to the front door to bring in the suitcases. Pulling her carry-on suitcase off to the side, she rolled the numbers on the lock and zipped it open, removing a small white box before zipping it shut again. She went back to join Eleanor by the tree, handing her the box. “Just a little something I bought at the gift shop, after Liam finally dropped the surprise on us,” she giggled bashfully. She felt Liam’s strong hands on her shoulders as he joined them, and he pressed a chilly cheek to hers as he leaned down to rest his chin on her shoulder, letting his hands drop to wrap around her waist.

Eleanor smiled at Katrina and opened the box, drawing back one hand to her mouth after pulling back the tissue paper. She carefully pulled the loop of gold string up to pull it free from the box. “Costas, Leo, look at this!”

“Oh, that’s nice, good eye Katrina,” Leo replied, smiling at Katrina and Liam.

“Well that’s a very thoughtful gift,” Constantine added, smiling warmly at Katrina.

Liam pressed his lips to Katrina’s cheek. “And you were worried you weren’t gonna make a good impression,” he whispered in her ear. “You didn’t even need Leo’s gift wine!”

Eleanor stood up and circled the tree, looking for a spot to hang the ornament Katrina had given her. With a grin, she hung it on a branch near the top, admiring the way it twinkled against the lights. “New York” in glittery gold letters read across the shiny red apple, and Katrina smiled to herself as she took in the scene around her.

She was decorating a tree, her sister was smiling again, and she was in the arms of the man she’d fallen in love with, with his family in their home for the holiday. It was all she ever wanted for Christmas. She tapped Liam’s nose with her finger three times, smiling softly as she tightened his arms around her three times in response. Katrina didn’t want to get ahead of herself, but she certainly liked the feeling of home where she was standing.

---

Perma/TRR Liam/Serendipity Series tags (if not tagged above): @cora-nova @gibbles82 @lolablackwrites @smalltalk88 @aworldoffandoms @blackcoffee85 @burnsoslow @client-327 @custaroonie @dcbbw @iplaydrake @kingliam2019 @lovemychoices @missevabean @rainbowsinthestorm @superharrietsuper @hustacks @lodberg @ooo-barff-ooo

#12 days of ficmas #choices 12 days of fictmas #trr au fanfic #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #trr liam x mc #choices liam x mc #liam x trina #college liam #serendipity series #trr serendipity #there are entirely too many covers of this song #and I have listened to all of them #ALL OF THEM #while writing this

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cordoniantrash · 5 years ago

Text

Noël Dernier

Hello and welcome! This is my submission to day 8 of the The 12 Days of Ficmas, hosted by @leelee10898, with the prompt Last Christmas. Set sometime in the future, inspired by a line by Liam during a diamond scene in TRR 1. Huge thanks to @thequeennefertipi, who betaed and patiently held my hand through this. Spelling and grammatical errors are mine.

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairings: Liam x MC

Rating: G

Warning: none

Words: 2121

Readers: @dangerouseggseagleartisan @innerpostmentality @beardedoafdonutwagon @desiree-0816

my taglist:

@cora-nova, @thequeennefertipi @captain-kingliamsqueen @feralhuman-hsskkk @mirandatwodots @princesskennarys @emceesynonymroll @kingliam2019 @bobasheebaby @princess-geek @fbloveschoices @dcbbw @los-cafeteros @whovianwriter @vaticanwaltz @typicalweirdbookworm @cheyismaxi @lilaccatholic @supercoolperson0808 @twinkle-320 @mkatschoicesblog

It was the night before Christmas. Fairy lights twinkled merrily on many a window and the wind coming from the sea brought along a welcome chill in the air. Up the hill, the Royal Palace glittered: a bejewelled spectacle for the masses to marvel at. Inside the palace, the halls echoed with the combined sounds of many running feet, snatches of conversations and the tinkling of laughter.

The throne room was exquisitely decorated for the occasion. The room, made to look like a snowy landscape was decorated with centrepieces that glint in the light, fountains of champagne, silken curtains hanging on the walls and a string quartet that was stationed near one wall. The staff were at their designated places with the King and Queen and the little prince standing by the thrones, poised and ready to welcome their guests and start the gala.

Liam heard a sigh beside him. He turned and met his wife’s eyes. Cassie smirked and tilted her head towards a squirming Lucas. Sharing a fond look with Cassie, Liam knelt down and helped loosen up his son’s bow tie.

“Better?”

Lucas nodded then added, “How much longer, Dad?”

“Not too long now, dear.”

Lucas pouted, “Promise?”

Liam smiled. “Promise.”

He straightened up and took in the room one more time. Everything was in place. Liam felt a hand slip into his own. He turned and kissed Cassie’s hand, sharing another smile before they turned forward again. A beat passed.

The doors opened.

The guests entered, the music started, and the gala began.

As the nobles and other guests formed a line to greet the monarchs, Liam noticed a familiar face among the throng. It took a few minutes for the memories to resurface but recognition finally came along with wistfulness and a dawning sense of embarrassment.

It was Eira Blanchard in all her blonde-haired, eye-greyed glory, wearing an elegant green dress that showed off her slender frame. The diplomat’s daughter. A reminder of his life before Cassandra.

Beside him, his wife whispered, “Are you all right, love?”

Liam turned toward her and answered yes with a reassuring smile. He turned towards the line once more, physically there while his mind wandered off to the past and to a different party in another Christmas Eve.

−

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart…

−

Seven years ago, Paris, France…

He found her inside the embassy’s sitting room. Sheathed in ivory, she seemed to glow amidst the dark wood that decorated the room. These last few days saw him trying to gather the courage to confess his feelings. To put into words just how much their time together meant to him. How she meant to him.

As he walked into the room, taking care to make a noise to alert her of his presence, his mind wandered to his brother and friends and their reactions to what he was planning. He knew that they did not really think well of her. Leo thought her to be too self-constrained and Olivia thinks she’s too haughty. Maxwell added that she was too quiet while Drake thinks she’s boring. But Liam saw more than what was present in the surface. She was intelligent, ambitious yes, pragmatic too. But she was also kind and… and just perfect. She was the only one outside of his intimate circle that treated him as an equal. As a peer whose opinions matter.

Someone who matters just as much as the Crown Prince.

He knows that she saw him as more than just the quiet, dutiful spare.

At the sound of him entering the room, Eira turned, the skirt of her gown following her graceful movements. For a moment he felt dazed. Here was someone who was fit to be a queen, with the world at her feet. She certainly deserves nothing less, and although he can’t give it to her, being just the second son, he can and will give her his heart anyway. If she’ll have it.

Liam was shaken out of his thoughts when the first noble reached them. The night dragged on; the line moved steadily forward, bringing closer to where he and his family stood. He glanced at Cassandra, a question his eyes. She shook her head and smiled, taking a moment to squeeze his hand before turning to the next guest and engaging in small talk.

It all happened in a blur. One moment, Liam was talking to an ambassador, the next he was faced with wide grey eyes and an avalanche of memories. Ears burning, he nodded as she sank into a curtsy, ever the proper lady.

She spoke, voice cool, light and airy; just like the snow that fell on the windowpanes that night, all those years ago. He responded with the proper replies, face blank and voice betraying nothing. Both of them adhering to the script that they had been taught with all their lives.

Beside him, he could hear Cassandra making small talk, being an excellent hostess, despite the fact that they had been standing there for nearly an hour. Instinctively, he put his hand on the small of her back, the gesture meaning to provide her with support. It ended up being a reassurance for him.

Everything will be all right…

----

Grey eyes flickered, looking between husband and wife and briefly meeting warm brown before looking down as she sank into another curtsy, this time taking her leave. The royal couple, tonight being the incarnation of poise and hospitality, waved her on with more pleasantries before turning and welcoming another guest.

She walked away, as she had done that day, as she had done time and time again. Forever chasing and never quite reaching. Her heart clenched, her chest tightening slightly. She looked back, despite herself. He was talking softly with his wife, one hand on the small of her back, the other holding his son. His queen smiled, her hands resting on her little bump.

He looks happy.

Happier than he had been that night, or during the days she knew him. It was what he deserves, really. A home by the sea surrounded by family.

And yet…

Eira shook her head. Grabbing a flute of champagne, she wandered around the party feeling cold and empty amidst the revelry. Christmas had always been a melancholy time. Has been for years. Memories falling in place in her mind, recreating the way snow fell on the windowpanes in her apartment. Her biggest what-if being replayed in her mind, haunting her wherever she goes.

Seven years ago…

His confession still rang inside her mind. Last night had been more than she had hoped for. Eira could barely recall being as happy as she had been in that study, with the heat of the fire behind her and the warm brown of Liam’s eyes in front of her. Unbidden, words of acceptance spilt from her lips, her joy too much for one heart. He had taken her in his arms and spun her around, laughter and smiles shared between them. She could still see how his eyes lit up, could still feel the ghost of his lips on her forehead. His warm lips on hers. Soft, gentle and quivering into a smile.

In the cold light of the morning, the envelope lay on her desk. The acceptance letter cool in her hands. Her life-long dreams finally in her grasp. Eira looked out the window. He sent her a bouquet of lilies. She laid it next to her vase full of poppies.

She knows what to do. What she must do.

Eira could feel her heart break.

−

But the very next day, you gave it away

−

He avoided her like the plague throughout the night. It had started when she caught his eye as he was talking to a group of diplomats. Liam recognised the look in her eyes. Determination. For what, he did not know. A part of him does not want to know. He kept flitting in and out of groups keeping an eye out for Eira and ducking out whenever she came close. He felt silly doing it. It probably looked silly, judging by the confused looks that Cassandra kept on shooting him whenever he made his excuses.

Lucas, on the other hand, loved it. His son had taken to skipping away with him, giggling all the way. Liam always felt lighter during those moments. But it was nearly midnight and Lucas was already in bed, tucked in, safe and snug and so so loved.

Midnight saw him standing on the balcony. He had just finished a rather tedious conversation with some of the representatives in the foreign ministry and had needed a breather.

As he leaned his hands on the railings, he could hear snatches of conversations as voices from the ballroom carried to the balcony. He looked up. Spotlights moved in patterns across the sky, masking the stars. He allowed his posture to slip, his shoulders to release tension.

Just one more hour, he reminded himself. Then he and Cassie can finally make their excuses and retire for the night. Silently he went through a list in his mind. He had already asked the staff to draw a hot bath and requested a tray of her latest cravings to the kitchens. He just had to make sure to light the candles in the bathroom when they get back to their rooms and pamper his wife.

There was a shuffling noise on the other side of the balcony. Liam tensed. The hairs at the back of his neck stood up.

“Your Majesty.”

Eira Blanchard stood at the other side of the balcony, shadows blending into her green gown.

----

“My lady.” He inclined his head towards her. She returned his gesture before taking a few steps in his direction. Eira took in his appearance as she came closer. His hair was shorter, his stance more solid. More grounded. His eyes had hints of crinkles, a sure sign of someone always smiling.

Time’s been kind to you…

She also noticed the way his eyes flicked toward the door, his suddenly blank expression and the way he tensed. Her mind flashed back to the way he carried himself around his wife. She felt a weight drop to her stomach. But she still managed to straighten her back and arrange her face into something that resembles a smile. Taking a deep breath, she forged ahead.

“He looks like you…” she trailed off, unsure why she suddenly brought up this subject.

Liam’s stoic façade broke as confusion sank in. Eira could feel the corners of her lips twitch into a genuine smile. At least some things don’t change.

“Your son,” she clarified.

“Oh… uh—that’s kind of you to say,” Liam said, hands twitching. Eira looked down at her glass. She cast about for another way to keep the conversation going.

“Oh! I—ah, I’d like to offer congratulations as well.”

Liam’s smile was wider this time. “Thank you, Eira. I heard congratulations are in order for you as well. Your work in Africa was all Cassie could talk about last month.”

Eira flushed. “Thank you,” she murmured behind a growing smile. “It seems that I have a fan.”

Liam chuckled, his shoulders relaxing, eyes lighting up.

“She’s very passionate about these causes,” he said, visibly brightening up, “she’s already spearheaded several initiatives…”

Eira watched as Liam positively gushed about his wife, adoration clear on his voice and tone. Eira’s smile turned a touch melancholic. Something within her heart unclenched.

“It sounds like you’ve built a good life here,” she mused during a lull in the conversation.

“Seems that way, yes.”

“Are you hoping for another boy?” she asked, catching sight of the Queen as she made her rounds.

“A girl actually, although Lucas and Cassie are insisting it’s going to be another boy.”

“Hmm. I’m not sure the world could take another Liam.”

Liam laughed, the sound prompting her giggles as well.

----

Their laughter faded. A movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. Liam turned and saw Cassandra in the middle of laughing with Hana and Maxwell. Still chuckling, she looked around and caught his eye. Cassie smiled and waved. Liam grinned and winked, his heart full.

“You should go,” Eira said softly.

“What about you?”

She shrugged and answered, “I think I’ll enjoy the sights for a little longer before I head out.”

“Of course.” Liam nodded.

Their eyes met. He offered her a soft smile. She answered with another, wistfulness tugging at its edges. He nodded to her once.

“Take care, Eira.” He murmured.

“You too, Liam.”

With one final smile, he turned and made his way back inside.

−

This year, to save me from tears

I’ll give it to someone special

−

A/N: lemme know what you guys think!

#choices 12 days of fictmas #emgee tries to write #liam x mc #trr #choices trr #the royal romance #king liam #12 days of ficmas #choices stories you play #playchoices #choices the royal romance

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