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#fluentmoviequoter12daysoffics
fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
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Merry and Bright
Day 9 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader (The Rookie)
Summary: You invite Tim over on Christmas Eve, but he says he's working. A Christmas miracle occurs and Tim knocks on your door, presents in tow.
Word Count: 1.4k+ words
Warnings: so much fluff. How the Grinch Stole Christmas references. Tim is probably OOC. I made up some stuff about Tim and his sister.
A/N: I haven't written for Tim Bradford yet, so please feel free to leave feedback and let me know what you think! I'd like to keep writing for him and try to capture his amazing character better so please feel free to send requests if you have any!
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Since you inserted yourself into Tim’s life, barging your way in with a basket of goodies after moving in next door, he has quickly become one of your best friends. If he’s undeniably handsome and one of the most caring men you’ve ever met despite his grumpy exterior, so what? You asked yourself that the first time you invited him over for dinner, but now it’s a weekly occurrence, and it is your week to cook.
Your favorite one-pan dish is in the oven, and the game is queued on your television, but all that’s missing is Tim Bradford. As you decorated for Christmas this year, you thought about him and how his sister isn’t coming to LA for the holidays, leaving him alone. You’ve since decided to do something about that.
“Anyone home?” Tim asks as he opens your door. “Because I know I’ve told you more times than I can count to lock your door.”
You look around the corner and smile at him as you argue, “My neighbor’s a cop, it’ll be fine.”
“Sergeant, not a cop.”
“My apologies, Sergeant Bradford.”
He smiles at you, less rare than it used to be, but a moment you take the time to appreciate, never knowing when he will grace you with another one.
“So, I know your sister isn’t visiting,” you begin, “and I was wondering if you’d be interested in spending Christmas here?”
Tim glances at your Christmas tree before answering. “I would love to, and I can’t thank you enough for thinking of me and offering, but I’m working Christmas Eve.”
“Okay,” you say, nodding as you smile. “I just wanted to extend the invitation.”
You turn around to remove dinner from the oven, and Tim places a hand on your arm, stopping you.
“Thank you,” he repeats quietly and bordering on reverent. “I really appreciate it.”
“Of course. You’re always welcome here.”
“I’m sorry. I would come if I could.”
“Tim, it’s fine. I’ll just have to give you your giant stack of gifts later,” you tease.
Tim nods, removing his hand from your arm and watching you turn away, his heart trying to decide whether it wants to shrink or grow.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Bradford, are you good?” Wade asks as he leaves the station.
“Fantastic,” he mumbles. Wade looks at him, unconvinced, and he sighs before saying, “I just wish I could be somewhere else. I’m glad I could help out the officers with families, with kids, and give them the night off, but…”
“You’re regretting it?” Wade finishes.
“Not exactly.”
“Well, if you want to come over when you get off, we’ll leave the lights on,” Wade offers.
“Thanks,” Tim says. He doesn’t add: I’ve got somewhere else I’d rather be.
Someone walks up behind Tim and places a Santa hat on his head.
“Cheer up, Grinchy,” Angela calls, walking out of the station. “Merry Christmas, Tim!”
“Yeah,” Tim says, more to himself than her.
“Dude, we need to find you a K9 named Max, finish off the Grinch look,” Aaron teases, sitting next to Tim as his shift begins. He’s working tonight for the same reason Tim is: to let the officers with families spend Christmas with their loved ones.
“Oh, should we get him a little heart pin, too, and try to make it grow?” Nolan chimes in.
“Sorry, Bradford, but you’re just so… Grinchy,” Aaron says.
Tim laughs, shaking his head as the Santa hat shifts with his movement. Nolan and Aaron look at each other in horror and amusement at the fact that Tim Bradford, who is wearing a Santa hat, just laughed. Tim, however, is only thinking of you and how you’d absolutely agree with them. Although, if you were here, or if he was with you, he wouldn’t be quite so Grinchy.
“Merry Christmas, LAPD!” Officer Jan announces, entering the station in a full Santa costume. “I have come to relieve one lucky soul of Christmas Eve duty.”
“Bradford!” Aaron and Nolan yell. “He has somewhere to be.”
“How do you-?” Tim asks.
“It’s all over your face,” Aaron says as Nolan answers, “Go get her… whoever she is.”
Tim looks at Jan, who nods encouragingly. Tim jumps to his feet and runs to his locker. He’s heading home for Christmas, but he has one stop. As he changes before climbing in his truck, he makes a mental list of everything he needs. Merry Christmas to all, Tim thinks.
✯✯✯✯✯
You smile at the ending of the Christmas movie on your television, your thoughts drifting to Tim as you wonder what it would be like to have him here. As you try to focus on the movie again, someone knocks on your door.
When you open it, you don’t expect to see Tim in a Santa hat and holding several gift bags. Your eyes widen, and your smile returns as you let him in, closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but you wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tightly before he gets the chance. His arms wrap around you, loosely at first, before tightening when a Christmas song begins playing through your speakers as the credits roll. 
“I brought gifts,” he says against your shoulder.
“You didn’t have to. I just wanted to see you,” you reply.
He squeezes you once more, and you slowly step back, pulling out of the hug and looking up into Tim’s eyes.
“You brought hot chocolate?” you ask, stealing a peek into one of the bags.
“It’s Christmas,” he answers, as if it’s obvious.
“Didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”
“I’m not always.”
You smile and gesture for him to follow you, leading him into the kitchen and pulling two Christmas-themed mugs from your cupboard.
“Thank you for coming,” you tell him.
“Thanks for inviting me.”
✯✯✯✯✯
After making the hot chocolate, you return to the couch and turn on A Charlie Brown Christmas as you resist leaning into Tim’s side.
“This is one of my favorites,” he says quietly, “my sister and I watched it every time it was on cable growing up.”
“It’s a classic,” you agree.
“We would watch it, drink hot cocoa or cider, whatever was in the kitchen, and exchange one gift on Christmas Eve,” Tim adds.
“Do you want to open a gift?” you ask, facing him. “There’s only a few hours until Christmas anyway.”
Tim thinks for a moment and then smiles at you. “Just one.”
You stand, retrieving a small box from under the tree while he pulls a gift from one of the bags. When you sit back down, you sit a little closer than before. He opens his present first, smiling and leaning in to hug you as he thanks you. When you open yours, you see a gift you’ve wanted for years but no one ever remembered. You start to thank him, but something happens along the way, and instead, your lips land on his. His hand raises to your arm as he reciprocates, but you realise your mistake (was it really a mistake? you ask yourself) and pull back.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
His hand slides up your arm to rest at the back of your neck. You see a new smile as he pulls you back in. Pressing your hand against his chest, you stop yourself.
“Are you sure?” you whisper.
“Have you ever seen me so merry and bright?” he asks, his smile the widest you’ve ever seen.
You pick up the pompom at the end of his Santa hat and chuckle. “You are pretty cuddly,” you reply, noticing his other arm has wrapped around your waist. 
He rolls his eyes, still smiling as he kisses you again. You shift backward, your hand landing on the remote and resuming the movie. Tim laughs as he pulls back, pulling you against him.
“How’d you get off work?” you ask.
“Jan came in and offered to cover for one of us, and I was volunteered because I was being too ‘Grinchy.’”
You gasp in faux surprise. “Tim Bradford? You? Grinchy? I can’t imagine it.”
He smiles, and you lean in to kiss him again, your new favorite pastime.
“Thank you for coming. This is the best Christmas ever,” you say against his lips.
“Until next year?” Tim asks.
“What happens next year?”
“We’ll see.”
“And for now we’re merry and bright?” you respond.
“The merriest and the brightest,” Tim jokes, pulling you against his side as Charlie Brown appears on screen.
Merry and Bright, indeed.
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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months
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A League Christmas
Day 11 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
Summary: A Justice League Christmas party overwhelms you, so you sneak off to find a quiet place. Dick finds you and keeps you company.
Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Warnings: fluff, brief discussions of insecurity and anxiety, brotherly Jason Todd slander, Hal Jordan (he's a warning by himself) and a GLTAS reference.
A/N: I didn't specify which Dick Grayson this is, so feel free to pick your favorite! I just like Young Justice's Nightwing suit. Also, I love Hal and Razer in GLTAS if anyone is curious. Friendly reminder that I write for several DC characters in this fic, if you'd like to request something with them (request rules & character list)! :)
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The first annual Justice League Christmas Gala. Wonder Woman’s idea meets Batman’s money.
Your apprehension about attending has only increased since you got the invitation a week and a half before the gala. The mix of insecurity, fear, and knowing that you’ll be overwhelmed causes you to question whether or not you should RSVP.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Are you going to the gala?” Nightwing asks, landing beside you.
“I don’t know. Probably not? It’s not like a party of that size will miss one no-name vigilante,” you answer, not looking at him.
“You’re kidding, right? You have to go; who else will keep me sane?”
You glance at him before saying, “One less mouth to feed. I’m doing it for Bruce.”
Nightwing stays quiet, walking beside you until you reach the end of the alley.
“What if we go together? If I’m your date you won’t have to deal with any of it alone. I’ll be stuck by your side the entire time,” he offers.
“I- that would be nice,” you answer quietly, hopeful that being beside him will improve the night.
“Then it’s a date,” Nightwing says, his usual energy back as he jumps onto a dumpster. Extending a hand down to you, he adds, “Now, let’s find Harley, she owes me 20 bucks.”
✯✯✯✯✯
“Alfred!” Dick calls as he enters the Batcave, pulling his mask off.
“Yes, Master Grayson? Another injury?” Alfred replies.
“No, of course not, I’m not Jason,” Dick answers.
“Heard that!” Jason yells from somewhere.
Dick shrugs as he smiles at Alfred. “I need you to do something for me at the gala.”
“Anything, Master Grayson.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Stephanie and Cass invited you to go shopping for the gala and found what they (and you) deemed ‘the perfect look.’ It is a combination of your suit colors and Nightwing’s. You feel good in the dress but still wonder if you made the right decision by agreeing to go.
When you enter the venue, you hear a sharp whistle and turn to see Dick Grayson walking toward you. His suit is a deep blue, with elements of the bright Nightwing blue you’ve grown to love. A domino mask covers his eyes and cheekbones, but you still know how beautiful he is.
“You look amazing,” you tell him.
“Seriously? You look like a princess,” he gushes, running a finger over the fabric of your outfit. “You look really good in blue; better than me, maybe.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” you argue, laughing as he brushes a piece of hair away from your mask.
“You ready?” he asks, offering his arm.
You loop your arm through his elbow, and he lays his other hand on your arm.
“You’ll do amazing,” he whispers as you approach the top of the stairs.
“Mr. Red Hood and Artemis Grace of Bana-Mighdall,” Alfred announces.
“Mr. Red Hood?” you ask, looking at Dick. “That makes you…”
“Mr. Nightwing, yep. Bruce doesn’t seem to care that everyone here already knows who we are.”
Alfred says your name first, flipping the expected script. You look at Dick and smile brightly, whispering your gratitude for making you laugh. When you reach the bottom of the stairs, you nod at Alfred and he sends you a quick, encouraging wink before reading the next set of names.
Your arm stays looped through Dick’s as you make the rounds, saying hello to the heroes you know and introducing yourself to those you don’t. Dick was serious when he said he’d be by your side the whole time. Even when you go to get drinks, his hand stays on your lower back as he orders for you.
“Nightwing? A word?” Superman asks, smiling as he looks over at you.
Dick’s face drops toward yours, and though you can’t see his dark eyes looking at you, you know what he’s asking.
“Go ahead,” you say with a nod. “I’ll be around when you’re done.”
He nods once, gripping your hand before he leaves with Superman. You accept the drink and walk to a secluded area, taking a seat and a deep breath.
“Hey,” someone says. “This seat taken?”
You’re prepared to lie to avoid a conversation, but when you see who it is you smile and say, “No, help yourself.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Dick’s eyes stray to you as he listens to Superman and answers his questions, nodding and laughing when needed. He sees someone approach the table and hopes that they don’t ask to sit down. When you smile and gesture to the seat, the man turns and Dick releases a sigh, turning his attention back to Superman.
✯✯✯✯✯
“And then Razer said, ‘Do you share my opinion that the sweet embrace of death would be welcome today?’” Green Lantern Hal Jordan finishes, laughing alongside you. “Hate to leave so soon, but thanks for the company,” he adds before standing to visit the other Green Lanterns, who were fashionably late (courtesy of Kyle Rayner, no doubt).
After he leaves, and you’re alone as your anxiety begins to grow as the music, the overlapping conversations, and the extravagant gown overwhelm your senses. Abandoning your seat, you back toward the door, smiling at Diana as she passes, before turning and leaving.
✯✯✯✯✯
Dick hasn’t checked on you since Hal sat down, but he feels a sudden urge to look over. When he sees you backing toward the door, he knows something is off.
“Sorry, Supes, but I need to go,” he interrupts.
Superman looks over his shoulder and smiles. “Take your time.”
Dick nods and rushes through the ballroom, following you up into a small sitting room with large windows. He closes the door, muffling the sounds of the party. You sigh as the quietness washes over you. Turning to him, you begin apologizing.
“I didn’t mean to ditch you, I just got overwhelmed, and…”
“Hey,” Dick interrupts, grabbing your hand and leading you to the couch.
He sits first, then pulls you down beside him, letting you lean against his side while he intertwines your fingers.
“Don’t apologize for leaving a situation that made you uncomfortable. Is that all that’s bothering you?”
“Yes. I just- it was a lot,” you answer.
“I get it. We can stay here as long as you want, or we can really ditch and go get ice cream or hot chocolate or something,” Dick offers, rubbing his free hand up and down your spine.
There is a small clicking sound just before the lawn outside the window is illuminated with thousands of Christmas lights. You stand quickly, pulling Dick to the window with you, looking at all of the decorations and the intricate light display.
Unbeknownst to you, Alfred looks up into the window and smiles when he sees you standing so close to Dick. “A Christmas miracle,” he mutters before returning to the gala.
“I’d say this is a pretty good first date, all things considered,” Dick says, wrapping his arms around you from behind.
You pull your hand from his and turn in his arms to ask, “This was a date?”
“Of course it was.” He rushes to add, “Unless you don’t want it to be.”
“No, I do,” you answer quickly. “I just thought you offered to go with me because I was nervous.”
Dick brushes his fingers against the bottom of your mask as he says, “I wanted to go with you because you’re the best part of my life.”
“Take it off,” you whisper.
Dick smiles as he pulls the mask away from your face, freezing as his eyes look into yours. He drops your mask on a nearby table, keeping his head turned away as he peels his own off and drops it beside yours.
“It’s been a while, Mr. Grayson,” you tease, looking into his eyes.
“Too long,” Dick agrees, running a knuckle along your cheekbone. “You really are the best part of me.”
“You’re the best part of me,” you parrot, pushing your hands under the lapel of his suit blazer to rest on his chest.
Dick smiles, opening his hand so his warm, calloused palm rests against your cheek. He tilts his head to kiss you, his lips moving slowly against yours in the best slow dance you’ve ever experienced. You lean against him as you follow his movements, more than happy to let him lead.
“Thanks for being my date,” you whisper as he pulls back.
“I got the good end of this deal,” he replies.
The door opens suddenly, and Dick pulls you against his chest, keeping his face to the window as he asks who it is.
“You know the masks are supposed to stay on for this reason, right?” Bruce asks.
“Then why are you using your real voice?” you respond playfully.
“Besides, I can’t kiss her in the mask,” Dick adds, turning to face Bruce.
“Your mask only covers your eyes,” Bruce argues.
“But his eyes are pretty,” you say, smiling.
“I just came to tell you that you can leave if you want to,” Bruce explains, smiling at you. “I’m glad you both came, though.”
He closes the door behind him as Dick looks at you, the Christmas lights reflecting in his eyes as he pulls you closer.
“Me too,” you both say together.
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
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Haley's Holiday
Day 6 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader
Summary: You plan to spend the holidays with Dick and Haley in Blüdhaven, but his brothers have the same idea.
Word Count: 1.1k+ words
Warnings: fluff, more fluff, Haley, Dick's brothers get a warning.
A/N: Not necessarily Titans!Dick, I just think Brenton Thwaites is adorable. Sorry this is so short, but I wanted to write some fluff for Dick and give Haley some well-deserved lovin'. ALSO, I have an idea for a New Year's fic (part 2) that I kinda set up in this, so please let me know if you're interested!
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You’ve been counting down the days, hours, minutes, seconds, and even your heartbeat until you get off work for the Christmas break. With each tick of the clock, you get a little more joyful and eager for Christmas. Since your fiance, the one and only Dick Grayson invited you to spend Christmas with him and, of course, Haley in Blüdhaven, you agreed immediately. Now, with two minutes to go, you’re waiting to lock your computer and run into his arms.
You rap your knuckles on the door twice, and before you even notice the door has opened, you’re wrapped in Dick’s arms as Haley circles your feet, ready for your attention. 
“Merry Christmas,” you say, tilting your chin up to kiss Dick.
He happily returns your affection, chuckling as Haley begins barking. You pull out of Dick’s arms and bend down, petting Haley with both hands as you compliment her on her good looks, excellent behavior, and adorable Nightwing-themed Christmas sweater. You glance up at Dick with the last comment, but he shrugs, smiling as he turns to put your coat and bag away. 
Once Haley has received her fair share of attention and curled up on her bed for a winter’s nap, you follow Dick into the kitchen and see your favorite hot chocolate mix and all of the ingredients needed for any and all cookies you may want to make. Looking through the cookie ingredients, you hear Christmas music fill the room before Dick spins you into his arms, swaying to the music as your hands rest on his chest.
“Want to start with chocolate chip or gingerbread?” Dick asks, spinning you quickly.
You choose your favorite, smiling as Dick joins you at the counter, staying right by your side as you prepare the dough. He makes shapes with the dough, even if he knows it won’t hold its shape because you laugh, and it’s his favorite sound in the world. After the cookies are in the oven and the timer has been set, you’re back in Dick’s arms as Haley stumbles tiredly into the kitchen and sits by your feet.
“Can I be right here every Christmas?” you ask.
“Oh, you have to. There’s no choice anymore, right, Haley?”
Haley barks once, her tail thumping against the floor as she looks up at you. A single knock sounds on the door, and Haley’s ears perk while Dick walks to the door, gesturing for you to stay in the kitchen.
“Jason,” Dick says, more as a question than a greeting.
Jason, the bloodhound of Dick’s brothers, smells the cookies and lets himself in wordlessly. He stops when he sees you standing in the kitchen, though.
“I was going to ask if I could stay for Christmas,” he says, “but I don’t want to intrude.”
“Not an intrusion,” you assure him, smiling as you silence the timer. “The more the merrier, right?”
Dick shakes his head fervently behind Jason, but Jason smiles his gratitude before plopping down in Dick’s chair, pulling out a book as Haley climbs in his lap. Dick then joins you in the kitchen as you take the cookies out.
“You can tell my brothers no. It can just be us, as planned,” he whispers, rubbing you back.
“They’re your family, Dickie. Jason might not have anywhere to go,” you argue.
“Bruce invited all of us!”
“You said no.” You lean against the counter, crossing your arms as Dick stands in front of you.
“Because I have you!”
“And Jason doesn’t.”
Dick sighs, reaching over your shoulder to eat a stray chocolate chip before he tangles his fingers in your hair and kisses you. Until someone else knocks on the door.
Dick opens the door, and you can hear him groan. “Tim, come on in.”
“Thanks! I brought some- oh, hey,” Tim interrupts himself when he sees you and walks to the kitchen. “I didn’t know everyone was coming over here.”
“They’re not supposed to be,” Dick mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. You pat his shoulder and lead Tim to the kitchen to put his goodies beside the cookies.
“So much for Haley’s holiday, huh?” Dick asks Haley.
“Say the word and we’re gone,” Jason offers, not looking up from his book.
“You’re family man, you’re always welcome. I was looking forward to a quiet Christmas with my girls, but this’ll be great too.”
Jason snorts before a fourth guest knocks on the door; Haley barks once before silencing when Jason’s large hand covers her back.
“Grayson,” Damian begins as soon as Dick opens the door. “I know you are alone, so I brought Alfred’s soufflé that you like.”
“I’m not alone, but come in, join the party. Thanks for the souffle, baby bird, it’s my favorite.”
Damian slows as he sees the number of people in Dick’s apartment. When he sees you and Tim in the kitchen, the crease between his brow disappears, and he joins you in the kitchen, discussing the cookies you are making and his recent school trip.
“Still think ‘it’ll be great’?” Jason teases.
“Is Duke coming?” Dick asks, ignoring his prodding.
“Nah, Bruce took him to some family member’s house. Wanted him to be with them.”
“Should we have gone to the manor?” Dick asks, a hint of regret in his voice.
“Deep down, Bruce wants us to be happy and understands that we need a break from the manor. I think.”
When the fifth round of knocking begins, everyone silences and turns to look at the door. You wave a hand at Dick and walk to the door, listening to all of Dick’s brothers stand, ready to fight if necessary.
“Mr. Wayne,” you greet, surprised to see the billionaire father figure of your fiance at the door. “Come on in.”
Bruce looks around as he enters, shaking his head gently before holding up several large gift bags. “I brought presents if you don’t mind one more.”
“Of course not,” you and Dick say together.
The oven timer dings again, and you return to the kitchen alone, setting the cookies on a cooling rack before Dick joins you, turning off the oven for you.
“Are you sure you’re okay with this? A quiet week with just me, you, and Haley is still an option. Haley’s holiday.”
“Dick, they are your family and they’re going to be mine. It’s Christmas. This is what Christmas is all about,” you insist, gently gripping his bicep.
Dick nods and leans down to kiss you, laughing against you as Haley squeezes between your legs and sits on your feet. 
“Everyday is Haley’s holiday,” you point out.
“Spend New Year’s alone?” Dick suggests, his forehead leaned against yours.
“Not likely,” Tim calls.
“Tt. You have the best view of the fireworks from here, Grayson,” Damian adds. 
“We could take Haley to Metropolis for the week,” Dick whispers to you.
“We’ll decide after Christmas,” you tell him, pecking his cheek quickly. “For now, Haley’s holiday, complete with family, is just beginning.”
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
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Special Edition
Day 4 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Jason Todd x vigilante!fem!reader
Summary: Jason Todd doesn't like you. He does like Jane Austen, though.
Word Count: 2.2k+ words
Warnings: angst, arguments, brief description of injuries, fluff, Pride and Prejudice quotes. reader is a vigilante!
A/N: Sorry this is late; thank you for being patient and the encouraging messages!! This is my first Jason Todd fic and I am so excited because I'm madly in love with him. He may be OOC, but I didn't specify which version so you can imagine whichever Jason you want! I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!
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You are the bane of Jason Todd’s existence. He’s never said it outright, but he shows you constantly that he doesn’t like you, trust you, and certainly doesn’t want to work with you. That doesn’t deter you from trying to bring a little Christmas spirit and friendship to the man in the red hood, though. All he’s missing is a little green and some lights.
December in Gotham is cold, wet, and busy for vigilantes. With Batman breathing down your neck about staying in fighting shape no matter the weather or the time of year, it can be easy to let Christmas slip by unnoticed, and Jason usually does. Since you joined the team, though, you’ve decided it will never happen again.
“Those lights are new,” you point out as you trail behind Jason, cutting through a previously undecorated alley.
“Focus!” he snaps, his helmet turning as he looks over his shoulder at you. “Just because it’s Christmas doesn’t mean we stop to look at pretty lights instead of finding Scarecrow’s new hideout.”
You shrug and jog a few steps to catch up, your eyes focused on his red helmet as he slows. He pulls a grappling hook from his belt and aims it upward.
“You don’t have one do you?” he asks, his voice giving away how annoyed and tired he is.
“Pretty sure Bruce only gives those to his sons,” you answer sheepishly. “I can just take the ladder on the backside of the building. Or we can split up.”
Jason barks a single, harsh laugh. “One, Bruce isn’t sexist like that so maybe he just knows you’re incompetent. And, two, we’re not splitting up.”
“Because I’m incompetent?” you ask, smiling.
Jason’s shoulders rise and fall as he sighs before wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you against his chest until your feet meet the solid roof. His hand raises but lingers by your side as he looks down at you. Nodding to himself, he pulls his arm back and turns to look out over the freezing, dirty streets of Gotham.
“What are the chances he’d go for the water supply again?” you ask quietly.
“Not very good,” Jason answers. “Do you think before you ask those questions?”
“Think? No. But I do see Bane pushing a huge crate into the water department offices down the street.”
Jason jumps from his crouched position and moves toward you, the heat radiating off his body like a warm hug against your skin as he stands behind you. 
There’s a hint of grumbling as he raises his voice to ask, “Why didn’t you just say that?”
“Bane didn’t walk out until after you asked, Jason. I may be incompetent but I’m not a complete idiot,” you answer. 
You blame the December weather for your change in attitude; any other time, you would have made a joke and asked for his help since Bruce was working on your grappling hook and didn’t have a spare (not that you’d ever tell Jason the wire snapped and dropped you three storeys the last time he asked you to split up). But now, you’re tired and cold and want to get away from Jason before you say something you shouldn’t, so you jump off the roof and onto the fire escape as Jason’s yells fall on deaf ears while you rush toward the water department.
When you try the handle, the doorknob twists easily, but as you prepare to open it, a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back.
“What are you doing? Trying to get yourself killed?” Jason whispers angrily.
“Why do you care, Jason? If I die, you don’t have to work with me anymore, right?”
“Just because I don’t like working with you doesn’t mean I want you dead,” he snaps.
“Then watch my back and try not to be such a Grinch.”
You tear your wrist away from him, blind to his face dropping and his jaw clenching under his mask. Pulling the door open slowly, you slip into the shadows, grateful to feel Jason behind you.
✯✯✯✯✯
“You found Scarecrow’s new hideout?” Batman asks.
Jason nods, but you keep your eyes on your feet.
“And you went in - without telling anyone - only to get into a fight with Bane and doused with Scarecrow toxin?”
Jason nods again.
“Who made the call to go in without backup?”
“I…” Jason begins.
You don’t look up as you cut him off. “I did. Jason wanted to wait but I went in without him and he followed me. It’s my fault.”
“Hood, you’re dismissed then. Alfred said you need 24 hours of rest before you can patrol again,” Batman says.
Jason turns, stopping to look down at you before walking out of the Batcave. You hear Bruce pull his cowl off, but keep your eyes trained on your shoes.
“Alfred said the only reason Jason got out unscathed is because you took most of the toxin; without a mask. Why did you rush in there, then put yourself in harm’s way when Jason is more prepared to deal with it?”
“I didn’t think about that. I saw a threat and wanted to help my fri- teammate.” He’s not your friend, you remind yourself, no matter how badly you want him to be.
Bruce sighs, then clicks his tongue. You finally look up at him, and he looks like he’s fighting an internal war between Bruce and Batman. The one who wants to bench you for being reckless and the one who wants to hug you for protecting his son, even if he didn’t need it.
“Thank you. Just- call for backup next time, okay?”
You promise that you will. “But if someone is in danger, I will not hesitate to help.”
“I know that. But try to be a little more careful in the future, okay? Are you hurt?”
“No,” you lie, your mind racing on the remnants of the toxin as your face aches from the impact of Bane’s punch.
As you exit the Batcave and cut through Wayne Manor, Jason is leaning against the front door, his mask gone and his blue eyes leveled on you.
“Did he bench you?” he asks.
“No. Just told me not to do it again.”
Jason nods and pushes off the door, walking to you and looking down into your eyes. “That was incredibly stupid and if Bruce didn’t have this attachment to you, I’d be fighting him to get rid of you or stick you with someone else.”
“Sorry you feel that way,” you mumble, skirting around him and walking outside.
You breathe in the fresh air and try to ignore the feeling of your heartbeat in your face. You’ll undoubtedly have a bruise, so maybe it’s time to finally wear the mask Bruce seems keen on convincing you is for your safety. Maybe it’ll get Jason to lighten up, too. 
✯✯✯✯✯
“Bruce must’ve given a powerful lecture if it got you in the mask,” Jason teases.
You hum, hoping you don’t have to say anything and make the pain in your jaw worse.
“Just ordinary patrol today, so we can split up if you still want to,” he offers.
You shrug, watching the helmet tilt as its unblinking eye slits stare at you.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m great,” you say. “Split up, then.”
You take the East side of your quadrant while Jason goes West. As the night goes on and your pain medicine wears off, you want to curl up into a ball on one of the roofs you're jumping across and go to sleep. You slow before stopping in the middle of a roof, gently pressing your hand against the underside of your jaw, trying to alleviate the pain.
“What are you doing?” Jason asks, his voice distorted by the mask as he appears suddenly behind you.
“Nothing,” you say, the word mumbled by your hand holding one side of your jaw closed.
You hear his footsteps as he walks around you, stopping in front of you and pulling your hand away from your face before gently lifting your mask to your nose. His sharp inhale is barely audible through the helmet, but you catch it.
“Look that good?” you joke.
“When did that happen? Tonight?”
“No. Bane punched me two nights ago; it’s getting worse, as usual.”
“You should have told someone; what if he had broken your jaw?”
“Then you wouldn’t have to hear my commentary that you love so much.”
“Can you take anything seriously?”
“Can you stop taking everything seriously?” you argue. “I got hurt, so what? You don’t even like me!”
“I never said- no matter my feelings, you’re my teammate. Just tell me this stuff.”
“Because you’re such a good listener,” you mutter.
“Let’s go. We’ll finish patrolling together.”
You nod, pulling your mask back down and following Jason to a roof with a bird’s eye view. You sit on the edge beside him, looking at the twinkling Christmas lights scattered throughout Gotham.
“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask.
Jason’s mask swings toward you. “What do I want for Christmas?” he repeats incredulously. “Oh, let’s see… a partner who doesn’t rush us both into danger, a life that isn’t marked by death and loss, a team that doesn’t look at me like I’m one second away from becoming a supervillain, and maybe, if there is anything like Christmas magic, a day where you don’t act like my life is worth more than yours!”
You hold your breath as he yells at you, releasing it when he looks back out to the skyline.
“Red, we’re here to relieve you. Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night,” Red Robin says through the comm system.
Jason storms off as soon as he hears that, leaving you alone two nights before Christmas.
“I don’t think they have that on Amazon,” you whisper to Gotham, rubbing the good side of your face to stop yourself from crying.
✯✯✯✯✯
Bruce gave you a few nights off, presumably because Jason complained about you. The morning after Jason told you what he wanted for Christmas, you get a package containing the gift you thought he’d like. You wrap it, then set it on your kitchen counter, unsure whether it’s worth it to take it to him or if you should leave it at the manor while he’s gone. Shrugging, you decide you have time to make the decision and walk to your couch, queuing your favorite Christmas movie and trying to push Jason Todd out of your head. Deep down, you always believed he was mean because he cared and kept you safe by keeping you at arms’ distance, but now you’re not so sure.
On Christmas Eve, you find yourself standing outside Jason’s apartment, his gift in one hand and the other hand ready to knock. Taking a deep breath, you hope for the best and knock. The door opens a moment later, and Jason looks at you, his gaze catching on the bruise momentarily.
“Um, I just wanted to bring you this. And say that I’m sorry. Merry Christmas,” you explain as you extend the bag to him.
He takes it, pulling his eyes from yours to peek past the tissue paper. His blue eyes widen as he sees what’s in the bag before he closes the door quickly. You step back, hurt, and prepare to leave when the door opens again. Jason pulls you into his arms and into his apartment, kicking the door closed behind him as he holds you close. Your arms wrap loosely around his waist.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers.
Your arms immediately tighten around him, and you press your uninjured cheek against his chest.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Of course. Merry Christmas, Jay.”
“No, no,” he begins, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, his shining like a frozen lake. “You don’t say ‘of course,’ like I deserve it. Not after everything I’ve done to you. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to apologize, but I just..”
“Push people away because you think you’re a bad guy?” you suggest quietly.
“I am a bad guy,” he responds.
“No, you’re not. Jason, do you push people away for you or for them, and their safety, because you care about them?”
Jason is quiet as he stares into your eyes, dropping his gaze to your bruise once. “I care about you,” he whispers. “You showed me how insufficient were all my pretensions to please a woman worthy of being pleased.”
“She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes,” you quote.
“Where did you find a special edition of Pride and Prejudice this close to Christmas?” Jason asks, smiling brightly.
“I thought it was going to get here too late.”
“Thank you. For the book and for pushing back.”
“You’re worth it, Jay. Merry Christmas.”
He barely lets you finish before he pulls you in for another kiss the Christmas lights twinkling on the Gotham skyline starkly contrast the streets below, going unnoticed in the background as you realize Jason only pretended not to like you because of how much he cares for you. That, and being wrapped in his arms, is the only Christmas gift you’ve ever needed.
194 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 4 months
Text
Christmas on the Clock
Day 12 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Summary: Deacon gets called into work on Christmas Eve, and you (his neighbor) watch his kids until he gets back with a special Christmas gift.
Warnings: fluff, canon typical danger and action, Annie's fate is up to you (I personally imagined the story as if she hadn't recovered in season 1 but I think divorce would work too)
Word Count: 3k+ words
A/N: I cannot believe it's the end of the 12 fics already! I hope you've enjoyed them and thank you for reading!! I've tried my hand at a few new characters this month and appreciate the feedback and encouragement more than you know. Enjoy and Merry Christmas!
(PS check out this post if you'd like to participate the in the unofficial after party!)
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Matthew, Lila, and Samuel are Deacon’s pride and joy… and some of the cutest kids you’ve ever seen. As Christmas grows nearer, you’ve seen more of them around Deacon’s house, and they never fail to put a smile on your face. Deacon moved in next door to you a few years ago after some familial issues that you never pried about. Deacon has his kids with him most of the time, is a good dad and neighbor, and is certainly not hard to look at, so you have no complaints. Being so close puts you in the perfect position to offer to watch his kids if he ever had to leave suddenly, an occurrence which isn’t unusual in his line of work. It took some persuading, but Deacon eventually took you up on the offer, and you watch the kids occasionally and pick them up from school several times a month. Every time he comes to pick them up or you walk them home, he tries to pay you, not understanding that time in his presence and with his amazing family is the only compensation you will ever need.
As you exit your car, back from a Christmas shopping trip, you hear someone yell your name. Your smile appears when you see Lila racing across your front yard. She crashes against your torso, wrapping her arms tightly around you before tilting her head back to give you a gap-toothed smile.
“Hey, Lila,” you greet, happily returning her hug.
“Sorry about that,” Deacon apologizes as he approaches.
You shake your head at him and smile, a hand still resting on Lila’s back.
“What did you buy?” Lila asks, looking at the bags in your car.
“Just some boring Christmas stuff, nothing you’d be interested in.”
“Any toys, like trucks?” Matthew asks, appearing beside Deacon.
“Or Nerf guns?” Samuel adds.
“Hmm,” you hum, pretending to think. “I think there might be, but I can’t remember. I know I bought a turkey, and some new ornaments, some mistletoe… and, yes, I remember, I bought a few toys. But they have to be wrapped first, right?”
Deacon’s eyebrows raise at the word ‘mistletoe.' Though you notice, you keep your eyes on his kids to minimize the heat crawling up your neck at his attention.
“We should let you get back to that wrapping then. Right, kids?” Deacon interjects.
You nod at him, giving Lila one more hug before waving them off with wishes of a Merry Christmas and promising to bring them treats if you bake anything.
Looking over his shoulder, Deacon mouths, “Thank you.”
You smile, responding with a silent, “Anytime."
✯✯✯✯✯
Deacon’s phone ringing tears his attention away from his Christmas dance with Lila. He groans when he sees Hondo’s name on his phone.
“Sergeant Kay,” he answers, apologizing to Lila with furrowed brows.
“I’m so sorry to do this on Christmas, I know you’re with the kids, but we need you down here. Now,” Hondo explains. “There’s a hostage situation with kids in a mall.”
Looking at his own kids, Deacon nods. “I’ll be right there.”
He hangs up and grabs his keys. “I have to go to work for a little bit.”
“But it’s Christmas Eve,” Matthew says, setting his homemade Christmas ornament aside.
“I know, buddy. But I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” he asks, kneeling and brushing Matthew’s hair aside.
Matthew nods, and Samuel hugs Deacon.
“What about us?” Lila inquires.
“I’m going to ask you favorite neighbor to keep you company.”
Lila perks up at the idea of you coming over to spend time with her, if only slightly. Her dad is leaving on Christmas Eve, after all, and she’s distantly aware of the fact that he may not come home for Christmas or at all. That’s a lot for a little girl to think about so close to the happiest day of the year.
“Can we finish Rudolph when you get home?” Samuel asks.
“Absolutely. We’ll make hot chocolate, and we can all sit together to finish Rudolph,” Deacon assures. “It is Christmas.”
✯✯✯✯✯
You answer the phone after the second ring, slightly breathless from hanging garland.
“Hey,” Deacon greets. “I know it’s Christmas Eve but I just got called in and-“
You cut him off and say, “I’ll be right over.”
“Thank you,” he breathes out.
You hang up and grab the small bag you keep in your closet for times like this. After the first emergency call, you’d had to take the kids to your house while you gathered some things, unsure how long you’d be with them. Since then, you’ve narrowed it down to a few must-haves that fit in a small backpack. You’re always ready to run when Deacon calls.
Lila is standing in the doorway when you walk onto Deacon’s porch.
“Daddy has to go to work but he said he’ll be back to watch Rudolph with us,” she states.
You lock eyes with Deacon over her head and see his sadness and disappointment.
“Of course, he will,” you agree.
“Sometimes his work takes longer than he thinks. Christmas is tomorrow.”
You set your bag beside the door and kneel, eye-to-eye with Lila as you say, “But we have Christmas magic this time, right? Your dad will be home for Christmas, even if I have to go get him with my own sleigh.”
Lila smiles and grabs your hand, turning to hug Deacon before he leaves. She hears her brothers trying to pick a board game to play with you and releases both you and her dad to go help them. Deacon stops beside you, looking between you and his kids.
“Thank you,” he says again.
“It’s not a problem, Deacon. I’m always happy to do it.”
He nods and picks up his keys, but you place a hand on his bicep to stop him in the doorway.
“Be careful,” you whisper as he leaves.
He nods and smiles, his hand rising to rest over yours. “Always. Merry Christmas.”
✯✯✯✯✯
“There’s at least 50 hostages. A mall Santa, couple kids, parents, plus the few employees still there,” Hondo explains.
“I thought all stores closed early on Christmas Eve,” Street grumbles.
“Welcome to the age of greed and capitalism,” Luca states. When everyone turns to look at him, he asks, “A little too much like Buck, wasn’t it?”
Hondo shrugs and answers, “Stay liquid.”
When Black Betty reaches the side of the mall, Hondo and Deacon approach the first responders and check the thermal imaging they had captured to attempt a headcount.
“I’m getting everyone home for Christmas, but we’re breaching early,” Hondo announces.
His promise means something, even if it’s an impossible guarantee. Getting home for Christmas is the only thing on everyone’s mind.
“The hostages are gathered in the center of the mall, where Santa’s village is set up. We breach the south entry, come from the west and get our suspects down,” Hondo continues.
“Flashbang?” Luca asks.
Hondo gives an affirmative while Deacon looks at the layout.
“Hondo, I agree with approaching for the west, but I have an idea,” Deacon says.
“Let’s hear it.”
“What if we walk in the front door? It should be unlocked, they won’t expect it, and it’s far enough to the west they won’t see us or hear us.”
Hondo looks at the thermal blueprint and nods. “Change of plans. Enter west, travel east, flashbang and get our suspects on the ground before Santa can say ‘Ho, ho, ho’! Everyone clear?”
“Yes, sir!” 20 David agrees.
As they approach the main entry, the automatic doors slide open, not a sound from within audible. Hondo nods at Deacon before Street sends a tap from the back, signaling that the team is ready for entry. Deacon takes a deep breath and remembers his promise, home for Rudolph.
✯✯✯✯✯
The sun sets as you finish playing Candy Land with Lila and Matthew. Samuel has opted to be on a team with you, coloring until you ask for his help. As the night grows darker, Lila’s eyes keep going to the front door, waiting for her dad to return.
“Do you guys want to watch a movie?” you ask.
“We’re waiting to finish Rudolph with Dad,” Matthew answers.
“I see,” you reply with a nod. “Then what about a book? I have lots of Christmas books at my house.”
“Like what?” Samuel asks.
“Let’s see… How the Grinch Stole Christmas, Eloise at Christmastime, Frosty the Snowman, Olive the Other Reindeer.”
“Who’s Eloise?” Lila interjects.
“She’s a little girl, a lot like you actually, who spends Christmas in a grand hotel with her nanny, her turtle, her dog, and a lot of friends.”
“I like the Grinch,” Matthew adds.
“Maybe we could read both?” you offer.
The kids nod before yawning, and your heart sinks a little (but doesn’t shrink; you’re not to Grinch levels of despair just yet) as you realize Deacon won’t be home before they fall asleep. He always lets you know when he’s out of harm’s way and when he’s on the way home, but you haven’t gotten either of those texts yet. Matthew, Lila, and Samuel promise to stay where they are while you run across Deacon’s lawn and into your house, gathering the bag of gifts, a case of baking supplies, and the stack of Christmas books before returning.
“You look like Santa,” Samuel says, laughing as he points at the big bag tossed over your shoulder.
“It is Christmas,” you reply, smiling as Lila and Matthew join the laughter.
✯✯✯✯✯
No one expected the suspects to be patrolling the entrances, so when Hondo sees the first, 20 David falls back into a store to regroup.
“We’re flashbang-ing anyway, why not go early?” Luca poses.
“It’s not a terrible idea,” Hondo sighs.
“What if Street and I go around to the other side and we get ‘em from both sides?” Deacon suggests.
“That’s a better idea,” Hondo says. “Sorry, Luca. Radio when you’re in position.”
As Deacon and Street move silently through the empty, dark hallways of the mall, passing a toy store, Deacon thinks about all the presents his kids will be getting tomorrow and how they’ve never asked for more than they needed. He misses them, so he needs to stay focused and get the job done to go home to you and the kids. When he envisions getting home, it never involves you leaving to go back to your place next door. Thinking of home, you’re always there, and Deacon finally realizes why.
✯✯✯✯✯
“The end,” you finish quietly, closing the fourth finished book as the Kay children rest peacefully in their dad’s bed.
It was the only spot where they could all lie down to listen to the stories, so you hadn’t argued. Besides, Deacon could carry them to bed if he needed to. You’ve grown worried for him, checking your phone every few minutes to see if he’s provided an update. Closing the door gently behind you, you enter the kitchen and begin baking. Quiet Christmas music fills Deacon’s kitchen and living room as you arrange your gifts to the Kays beneath their tree and place cookie dough on a baking sheet. Your phone vibrates, and you practically dive for it, praying for a Christmas miracle.
✯✯✯✯✯
 Street and Luca coordinate their flashbangs so both sides of the crowd are disoriented. Screams and threats tangle with each other in the smoke, but Tan, Chris, and Deacon get the three suspects to the ground and remove their weapons quickly. Deacon sees the children in Santa’s village as he hauls the handcuffed man to his feet.
“What kind of a monster does this on Christmas Eve?” he grumbles.
“It’s just another day, man,” the criminal in his hold argues.
“No, it’s not. Especially not to them,” Deacon snaps, gesturing toward the terrified children clinging to their parents.
As he passes the man off to another officer to be transported to his home for the holidays, county jail, a small hand tugs on Deacon’s pants. He looks toward the hand, surprised to see a girl not much younger than Lila looking up at him with wide eyes.
He bends his knees, squatting in before her as he removes his helmet. “Hi,” he says.
“Hi. Thank you for saving us,” she says quietly.
“Not a problem, it’s actually my job.”
“Like a superhero?”
“Sort of like a superhero.”
“I asked for a superhero costume for Christmas.”
Deacon looks over at the young couple watching the girl and nods at them. They return it, expressing their gratitude with hands joined over their hearts.
“Well, after seeing how brave you were today, I’m sure you’ll get one.”
“Merry Christmas,” the girl says before running to her parents.
“Merry Christmas,” he calls, standing.
“Get out of here, you have your own kids to wish merry Christmases to,” Hondo demands, slapping Deacon’s shoulder.
“Thanks. Merry Christmas, guys!” he tells his team, rushing outside to get home.
If he’s lucky, he’ll make it before midnight.
✯✯✯✯✯
The phone vibration was just a random notification. You’ve made two batches of cookies, rearranged the gifts, and paced the living room twelve times since then, waiting to hear something.
“I need to calm down,” you tell yourself, returning to the kitchen to frost some cookies.
✯✯✯✯✯
Deacon turns into his driveway, smiling when he sees you turned all his Christmas lights on. He's unsure whether or not it was because of his children nagging you. Grabbing a gift bag from the passenger seat, Deacon exits his car and walks into his house, met by Christmas music, the smell of cookies, and the sight of you in his kitchen. He decides that you fit perfectly, even if he’s not sure where.
You’re humming along to the music playing from your phone, oblivious to his entry. A gift bag lands on the counter before a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist.
You turn quickly, your eyes wide until you see the big brown eyes you’ve grown to love.
“You scared me,” you accuse quietly, setting the piping bag of icing to the side.
“Sorry.”
He doesn’t look or sound very sorry, but his arms are still around you, so don't care.
“I brought you something,” he says after looking at you for a moment.
“Oh, you didn’t have to get me anything.”
He looks pointedly at the pile of gifts under the tree that was not there when he left.
“Most of those are for Lila, Matthew, and Samuel,” you point out.
“Well then we’ll be even,” he says, passing you the bag.
You tear your eyes away from his as you pull a small snow globe from the bag. Inside is a replica of the park down the street.
“The place we met?” you ask, your voice low.
Deacon smiles. “It’s got a lot of good memories. There’s more.”
You carefully set the snow globe aside, looking at it until you feel the card in the bag. Deacon takes the empty bag, his arms returning to hold you as you read the note. It’s more of a list of occasions and things he likes about you or is thankful for.
“What is this?” you ask.
“An opening to tell you that I’m falling in love with you,” he whispers.
“Are you sure?”
His eyes widen as his smile grows. “This isn’t a spur of the moment decision; I ordered that snow globe a few weeks ago because I finally realized and am ready to admit it. It’s time to move on, and I want to do that with you. Only if you want that, too, of course.”
You turn away from him, feeling his grip on your waist falter as you set the card down. Turning back, you lean into his arms and wrap your arms around him.
“I want to be with you every day for the rest of my life, Deacon. I’m falling in love with you,” you whisper in his ear.
You pull back to say more, but his lips meet yours, and the words die on your tongue. You can show him instead, you suppose. He kisses you, and it feels like home. Everything that Christmas is supposed to be is in Deacon’s kiss, his hold on you, how you feel like you’re home in his arms. It’s perfect, and you want it to last forever, but no good things do.
Your phone timer buzzes, and you reluctantly pull away to turn it off. As you lean back in for more, Deacon chuckles.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“The other batch of frosting is ready to be used.”
He looks over at the cookies cooling by the oven. The human shapes represent his family: he is the bigger one, Samuel and Matthew are shorter, and Lila has a built-in skirt shape.
“Where’s your cookie?” he asks.
“I might have eaten it.”
He laughs again, and you press your face against his neck.
“I needed to make sure they turned out okay,” you argue halfheartedly, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands on your back.
"That's where the mistletoe went," he muses as he looks up.
"Couldn't leave it at my empty place," you point out.
"No, that wouldn't do," he agrees playfully before kissing you again.
✯✯✯✯✯
Christmas morning, as Lila, Matthew, and Samuel open their gifts with both you and their dad, they are happier than Whoville after Christmas is returned. Deacon tells you several times that you bought them too much stuff, and you disagree every time.
He leans in to give you another kiss as gratitude for his gifts. Lila sees and giggles, and you send her a quick wink, smiling as she walks to you, hugging you and thanking you for the great gifts. After all the presents have been opened, Deacon ends up at the bottom of a dogpile while Rudolph plays on the television screen. You’re tucked beside him, like part of the family, and he realizes where exactly you fit: in his house, life, and his arms.
You are the luckiest recipient of all the perfect gifts unwrapped because you got a happily ever after wrapped in an LAPD SWAT uniform.
76 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
Text
Locked In
Day 7 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: David “Deacon” Kay x fem!wife!reader
Summary: You surprise Deacon and 20 David with Christmas cookies, but while you’re there, an active shooter enters the station. Deacon tries to concentrate, but can’t until he knows you’re safe.
Warnings: angst, fluff, parts could be viewed as a little suggestive but that wasn’t my intention (oops), David and Deacon are used interchangeably. (set in season 1 or 2; Jessica has a very small role in this)
Word Count: 2.3k+ words
A/N: We’re just pretending that Annie doesn’t exist lol. Jay Harrington as Deacon is the only reason I watch SWAT (not kidding; I don't even like the show, I just love him), so I am excited to try my hand writing for him! I’m open to a part 2 as I plan to keep writing for Deacon!! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!
(Picture from Pinterest)
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You reach over, your eyelids fluttering open when you feel the cold sheets on David’s side of the bed. Your husband isn’t supposed to be at work yet, and he went to the gym last night, so you’re expecting him to be beside you when you wake up before your alarm goes off. Rubbing your eyes, you slip out of the bed and walk to the kitchen, wrapping your arms around yourself to stay warm.
“Hey,” you say quietly, walking through the kitchen, Christmas lights twinkling in the living room.
David looks up from a book, sending you a soft smile as you approach. He leans back in his seat, raising his hands to your hips as he leads you to stand between him and the table.
“Are you okay?” you ask, laying your hands on his arms.
“Yeah, just- just been thinking.”
“About?”
He stays quiet, his eyes bouncing between yours.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, David.”
“I do, it’s just hard.”
“Hey, I get it. You’ve been through a lot in the last year. You can take the time and space you need.”
“I don’t want time or space from you. But I also don’t want to pile everything up on you. You’re my wife, not my therapist.”
You smile, stepping forward to straddle David’s lap as your arms wrap around his shoulders while his arms lay heavily on your waist.
“Why can’t I be both? You can tell me anything, you know that.”
“I do. Thank you.”
“I love you, David Kay,” you whisper.
“I love you, Mrs. Kay,” David replies, smiling as he leans up to kiss you.
“You have to go to work,” you mumble against his lips as his arms tighten around you.
“You’re my therapist, write me a note,” David replies, kissing your jaw between each word.
You laugh, which turns to a squeal when he stands, lifting you in his arms and carrying you back to the bedroom. He tosses you on the bed, laughing when you bounce on impact.
“What do you want for dinner?” you ask.
“Turning into a housewife?”
“What can I say? You have that effect on me,” you joke.
He pulls his uniform out of the closet, hanging it on a hook before approaching the bed.
“You’re distracting.”
“You’re easily distractible. But, I’ll let you go to work.”
You sigh as you stand, kissing David one last time as you walk by him to get ready.
“Have a great day.”
“I always do, when I know you’re waiting for me.”
✯✯✯✯✯
After David leaves, you spend the morning wondering what could be weighing so heavily on his mind. You know that he puts on a brave face, but you don’t want him to have to be a rock around you - for you - all the time. Deciding that David could use a little Christmas cheer and a special visit at work today, you walk to the kitchen and start baking cookies. As you bake, you come to a realization of your own, and your first thought is that you need to talk to David about it. Every cookie recipe David has ever told you he enjoyed or eaten too many of is baked and decorated before you’re ready to visit him. You’re sure his team won’t mind the abundance of cookies.
Someone says your name when you enter, and you smile as Jessica approaches.
“Cookies for… the whole LAPD?” she guesses.
“It started as cookies for David, but I think I went a little overboard. Think anyone is interested?”
“Oh,” she pauses to laugh and wrap an arm around your shoulders. “The whole team is very interested.”
You let her steer you through the station, your smile growing when you hear David's voice.
“Guys, look what I found,” Jessica announces when you enter.
David says your name, his eyes wide as he walks to you.
“Are those cookies?” Street asks, standing on his tiptoes to see at the plate over Deacon’s shoulder.
“Figured everyone could use some holiday cheer,” you say, letting Deacon take the plate and set it on the table.
He points between Tan and Luca, demanding, “Do not eat them all.”
Hondo laughs, teasing them more as Deacon hugs you, keeping an arm around you as he reaches forward and takes two cookies.
“Man, you married up,” Hondo says around a cookie.
“Sure did,” David agrees.
“Can I get this recipe?” Chris asks, holding up a tender sugared-gingerbread hybrid cookie.
“No,” Deacon answers, while you nod and wink at her.
“Thank you so much,” Tan tells you.
“Yeah, you have no idea how much we needed these today, Mrs. Deac,” Luca adds, hugging you.
“Of course. Merry Christmas, guys,” you reply.
An alarm goes off, and you step back as the team crowds around the monitors. Deacon reads something, then looks over his shoulder, first at Jessica, who looks up from her phone, then at you.
“Get her somewhere safe,” Hondo commands. “Gear up!”
David takes your hand, and you wordlessly follow him, jogging alongside him as you travel through the station. He opens a door, pulling his sidearm out to clear the room before instructing you to sit. He kneels in front of you, holding your face as he speaks.
“There’s an active shooter,” he informs you gently. “I need you to stay here.”
You nod, but he shakes his head and adds, “I need you to tell me, promise me, that you are going to stay here and stay safe.”
“I promise, Deac,” you say, leaning into his hands.
He rocks forward onto his toes, kissing you quickly before standing. He sets a radio on the table beside you; he doesn’t tell you, but you know it’s in case you need him. A worst-case-scenario savior that he prays you won’t need.
“Go,” you whisper. “Be safe.”
He nods, slowly pulling his hand from your shoulder as he leaves, the door locking behind him.
“Keep him safe,” you whisper upwards.
✯✯✯✯✯
After he leaves you, he joins Hondo and the rest of 20 David, but he barely registers Hondo’s direction as his mind stays on you.
“Deacon, Street, you’re with me,” Hondo finishes, looking directly at Deacon.
They navigate the hallways slowly until Hondo signals for them to stop. He pulls his phone from his pocket, reading a message before turning to Deacon and Street.
“Jessica and Hicks think the DA is the target. He’s holed up outside the armory. Rocker is with him now, but they need an escort,” Hondo relays the information to them quietly. “You two go get the DA, get him secure, then meet me.”
“You got it,” Deacon says as Street nods.
They move carefully, pausing at each corner. Just as they reach the DA and Rocker, a gunshot sounds in the distance. Deacon tenses, trying to deduce where the shot came from.
“Shooter located. Hallway southeast of the armory,” someone says over the radio.
Deacon releases a breath, his tension leaking out now that he knows the shooter is moving away from you. Street puts the DA between him and Deacon, allowing Deacon to lead the way. Deacon decides to move north, away from the shooter and closer to you. Street recommends the same room you’re in, and Deacon quickly agrees.
The door moves, and you grab the radio before moving against the wall. David comes in, and you step away from the wall, dropping the hand clutching the radio to your side. Two more people follow him into the room before they close the door and it locks.
Deacon tilts his head, silently asking you to sit down. You do, and he sits beside you, pulling his glasses off to look into your eyes. 
“Shooter moving toward you, 20 David. By our count, he should be running low on ammo,” Rocker radios.
“Go,” you whisper, seeing Deacon’s eyes widen at the idea of his team under attack.
He nods, but you stop him as he begins to stand. Raising your fingers to his jaw, you turn his face toward you.
“Promise me,” you say. “Promise me that you will focus. You have to be safe for yourself, for your team… for me.”
“I can’t just push you out of my mind like that,” he admits.
“Then remember and think about the version of me that can protect myself. But I can only do that if I know that you’re coming back to me.”
David nods, his eyes glassy as he whispers his promise. You know he means it, and you send a comforting smile to the DA, offering him cookies when the situation is clear.
“That- that would actually be really nice. I could use some cookies today,” the DA says, chuckling.
“Seems that most of us could,” you agree.
✯✯✯✯✯
You hear two gunshots and thundering footsteps echo before the doorknob rattles.
“We’re comin’ in,” David says through the door.
“It’s okay, they’re SWAT,” you inform the DA, who’s backing into a corner. When he sees their uniforms, he relaxes and walks out to talk to Hicks and Cortez. 
David’s arms wrap around you, holding you tight against his chest. 
“It’s all clear. We got him,” David tells you as he leads you back to the team.
“Thank you for coming back to me,” you tell him.
“I always will,” he replies.
When you turn the corner, you see 20 David gathered around the table, looking no worse for the wear as they each grab another cookie. The previously full plate has dwindled to nearly nothing in the short time since you arrived.
“The DA said you offered him a cookie?” Chris asks, smiling as you walk in.
“He looked like he was going to cry,” you defend.
Deacon laughs as Jessica yells her agreement from outside. Deacon’s arm is still around you, and he pulls you closer as the team talks about the DA’s reaction to the situation. They silence suddenly, and you look over to see them staring at the last cookie.
“Can I have the last one?” Street asks you, smiling kindly.
“What? No, man. I’ve known her longer, I should get it,” Luca argues.
“I caught the shooter!” Tan adds incredulously.
They look to you, but Deacon speaks instead. “I’m married to her.”
Everyone else groans and looks up at the ceiling.
“Street, you can have the cookie,” you answer.
He cheers as Deacon looks down at you with wide puppy-dog eyes, an accusation of your betrayal ready.
“There’s more at home,” you whisper conspiratorially.
“You guys want to come to a Christmas party next weekend for more cookies?” Deacon asks; you’d be surprised at his willingness to share if you didn’t know him so well and love him for all the reasons he’s demonstrated today.
“We’ll be there,” Hondo answers, smiling as the rest of the team nods. “And thanks for the cookies today.”
Hondo walks around Luca and Tan, who are still arguing over the cookie, to stand beside you. “You’re pretty brave for a cookie elf,” he teases you.
“Have you ever had to try cookie recipes until you found one that David Kay liked enough to request again? Being a cookie elf is no simple task, Sergeant Harrelson,” you reply.
Hondo laughs, patting your shoulder as he walks by. David smiles at you and offers to walk you to your car. As you leave the room, he looks over his shoulder quickly.
“I’ll be home soon. My shift is ending,” David tells you as he opens your door.
“Okay. Thanks for protecting me, David.”
“Always.”
He kisses you quickly, leaning down to buckle your seatbelt.
“Um, David? Can we talk about something when you get home?” you ask, remembering your earlier thoughts.
His brows furrow even as he nods.
“It’s not important - I mean, it is important but nothing you need to worry about.”
“Of course.”
✯✯✯✯✯
David gets home just a few minutes after you do. You meet him at the door, smiling and raising your arms for a hug as he walks to you. He laughs but humors you by pulling you close.
“Hondo let us leave a few minutes early,” David says into your shoulder.
You pull back to ask him how everyone is, but he doesn’t give you the chance before he kisses you. The kiss is the one you assume he wanted to have at the station after the shooter was captured; it says that he loves you, will always protect you, and will be by your side forever.
David’s arms wrap around your waist, tapping twice to signal you to jump up. You wrap your legs around him, smiling into the kiss as he hooks an arm under your hips and walks inside, kicking the door closed behind him. He carries you into the kitchen, setting you on the counter as the smell of cookies greets you. When you smell the cookies, you realize how prevalent the taste of ginger, brown sugar, and a faint undertone of chocolate is.
When you feel like you can’t catch your breath, you place a hand on David’s chest and lean back.
“You taste like cookies,” you accuse breathlessly.
“I ate the last one,” he whispers.
“Jim wanted it.”
David smiles, pinching your waist before kissing you again, reminding you who you’re supposed to make cookies for.
“Hey,” David interjects, pulling back again. “I know you said you wanted to talk about something, but can I go first?”
You nod, keeping your arms hooked over his shoulders as his fingers trace circles against the skin of your sides. 
“Our anniversary is coming up on the 23rd and I’ve been thinking that I want to do something special. Today made me realize that I was right, we do deserve something big. I think we should renew our vows.”
You smile, pulling yourself forward to hug David. 
“I love that idea. I wanted to ask the same thing,” you admit. “We’ve changed, our priorities have changed, but I’m still wholly devoted to you.”
“Really? We had the exact same idea?”
“Great minds.”
“And great cookies,” David adds, smiling as he leans in. “Merry Christmas to us.”
114 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
Text
Midnight Mistletoe
Day 1 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Dalton Lambert x fem!reader
Summary: After Chris convinces Dalton to decorate his dorm, complete with mistletoe, you show up in the middle of the night to check on him.
Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Warnings: a ton of fluff, Christmas decorations?, references the event of The Red Door but takes place after.
Masterlist Directory | Dalton Lambert Masterlist | Request Info
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“What are you doing?” Dalton asks as Chris walks into his dorm. “I thought I told you to give the key back.”
“You did,” Chris says, smiling as she sets several bags on Dalton’s bed. “But this place needs a little holiday cheer, and we both know you won’t do it. So, your Chris-tmas helper is here. Get it? Chris?”
Dalton sighs as he stands, running his hand through his hair before answering, “Yeah, I get it. Hilarious. You’re decorating my dorm for Christmas? Immediately after Thanksgiving?”
“Calm down, Scrooge.”
Dalton shakes his head and looks in one of the bags. There’s a miniature tree, lights, a Christmas countdown, and a bundle of green leaves.
“What is this?” he asks, pulling the bundle out.
“Ah, that is the key to my long-term sanity,” Chris jokes. At Dalton’s unimpressed look, she rolls her eyes and adds, “Mistletoe.”
“Why are you putting up mistletoe in my dorm?”
“Because she’s always here, and you need to make a move. I’m just nudging you in the right direction.”
“You’re meddling.”
“Call it what you want, as long as it works.”
Chris presses a button on her phone, and Christmas music fills the dorm. Dalton agrees to help her put the decorations up and, within a few minutes, is enjoying himself. When the bags are empty, and only the mistletoe remains, Chris holds it up and asks where he wants it. He looks around, and instead of making the anticipated joke or saying nowhere, he says, “Above the door.”
✯✯✯✯✯
Your dorm is full of Christmas music, the smell of cinnamon, and a skinny Christmas tree covered in ornaments. When Chris asked you to go shopping with her for Christmas decorations for the dorms, you went a little overboard. She invited you to help decorate Dalton’s, but you thought she was kidding, so when she sends you a picture of the finished product, you can’t help but laugh into your festive room.
The sun has set, and you invite Chris and Dalton over for hot chocolate, cookies, and a new Christmas movie, an invitation which they accept quickly. During previous movie nights, Dalton always sat on the floor while you and Chris sat on your bed, so when Chris shows up with her own blanket and gets comfortable on your rug, you’re more than a little confused. She winks at you, making you sigh as you realize she’s back to her meddling ways.
“Uh, Dalton, make yourself comfortable. I need to finish the hot chocolate first,” you say before returning to your mini-fridge and microwave.
Once the mugs are made to everyone’s preferences, you hand Chris and Dalton theirs before grabbing your own and sitting beside Dalton on your bed.
“Do you want me to move?” Dalton asks as you shift your leg.
“No, no, I just didn’t want to be in your space,” you explain with a forced laugh.
“I don’t mind,” Dalton promises.
You nod and let your leg fall back to its original position, your knee brushing Dalton’s thigh. The movie begins, but you are more interested in Dalton sitting beside you.
“Your decorations look great,” Dalton whispers during a snowball fight montage.
“Thanks! Yours do too,” you respond. “Chris sent me a picture.”
“Chris did most of it.”
“But you let her, and you came here, so you’re getting in the Christmas spirit whether you want to or not.”
“Christmas just hasn’t been the same since… since I started projecting I guess.”
“Well,” you begin, placing a hand on his arm, “we’ll make this the first of many good Christmases.”
“Thanks.”
Dalton starts to lean in, but the scene changes, and Chris makes a comment that draws him out of the moment. He smiles at you and turns back to the screen, laying his hand over yours as he does. You’re pretty sure he was going to kiss you, and his hand on yours gives you more than enough promise that when the time is right, he will. The only concern is whether or not the time will ever be right; Dalton has been through a lot, and there’s no guarantee the Further won’t attack again if the door opens. For now, though, the Christmas season and Dalton’s company make everything seem like it will be okay… good even.
✯✯✯✯✯
Chris and Dalton leave, engaged in a heated debate over who would win a snowball fight. You laugh as you close your door, leaning against it and flexing your hand. You can still feel the warmth from Dalton’s skin on yours. Recently, the world has felt like a never-ending winter, but his warmth is your hope.
“Look at my arms, Chris, I can throw harder than you. I would obliterate you,” Dalton’s voice floats through your door before they turn the corner.
“Should have kissed him when you had the chance,” you whisper to yourself before cleaning up.
✯✯✯✯✯
“What happened?” Chris asks. Dalton furrows his brows, and she clarifies, “I gave you two the bed. What happened? Did you finally kiss?”
“I thought that’s what the mistletoe was for.”
“I don’t care where you do it, Dolphin, I care that it happens.”
“We didn’t. I was going to, then I backed out.”
“Why?”
“The moment ended? I don’t know. What if you’re wrong and she doesn’t want it?”
“Dolphin,” Chris says as she makes Dalton stop walking. “I shouldn’t tell you this, but that night at the beginning of the year, when you were trapped in the Further with your dad? She confessed a bunch of stuff while you were gone. And was ready to sacrifice herself if it brought you back. I’m not just telling you what you want to hear; she feels the same and you need to make a move before it’s too late.”
Dalton stares at her as she walks away, his mind flashing images of you, scared and alone, while he is trying to close the door and get back to you. He has a list of things he wants to tell you, and part of him wishes he had heard what you said that night. After returning to his dorm, he tries to sleep but can’t stop wondering what Chris meant by saying that you would sacrifice yourself for him.
✯✯✯✯✯
After an hour of tossing and turning and only getting more upset and anxious, Dalton texts you and asks if you’re awake. You don’t answer, and after a few minutes, he turns his phone off and lays back down. Just as his head hits the pillow, someone knocks on his door. He stretches while walking across the room, opening the door to see you looking up at him with pinched brows and your phone gripped tightly in your hand. You’re wearing the same pajama set from earlier, but your hair is pulled away from your face.
“Are you okay?” you ask, stepping closer to him.
“Yeah, I’m fine. What are you doing here?” Dalton responds, letting you inside before closing the door.
“You sent me a message and I just assumed… sorry.”
“No, don’t apologize. Um, I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Oh, okay.” 
You release a sigh, and your shoulders drop. Dalton watches, enamored with how much you care about him while growing concerned about your worry for him. 
“Do you- why are you still awake?” Dalton asks, avoiding his real questions, ‘Do you always worry about me this much?’
“I cleaned my dorm and then was thinking and couldn’t go to sleep,” you answer, looking down at the floor.
“Thinking about what?” Dalton presses.
“You,” you whisper, glancing up at him. “And what almost happened earlier.”
“I was too.”
You smile and tilt your chin back to look at Dalton. When you lean back to look at the ceiling, Dalton says your name, concern lacing his voice at the sudden movement. 
“What is that?” you ask, still looking at the ceiling. 
Dalton doesn’t have to look up to answer, “Mistletoe. Chris’s idea, not mine.”
You look at Dalton, smiling as you tease, “You couldn’t kiss me in my dorm but you could text me at midnight to get me under the mistletoe in yours?”
“That wasn’t my idea, I…” Dalton trails off as he realizes you’re kidding. “Very funny. Besides, I told Chris the mistletoe was a stupid idea.”
“Why?”
“Does anybody actually honor that tradition? Because most guys I knew in high school who got a girl under the mistletoe got one of two things: a kiss on the cheek or slapped in the face.”
“Well, which would you prefer? Since you have me here after all?”
You don’t let Dalton answer, raising your hands to his cheeks as you kiss him, leaning against him as he pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours. 
When you pull back, you answer his unasked question. “I worry about you, Dalton, but I’ll always be here.”
“Right here?” Dalton asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks at the mistletoe.
“As long as you want me.”
“Midnight, tonight, and every midnight after,” he whispers, kissing you again as he starts a new Christmas tradition.
62 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
Text
The Price of Christmas Connections
Day 8 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Dalton Lambert x reader
Summary: You knock on Dalton's door and offer him some Christmas cookies, and when he offers to pay, you gladly accept.
Warnings: so much fluff; I think I forgot how to write for Dalton.
Word Count: 0.9k+ words (sorry it's short, I liked the idea but couldn't figure out how to make it longer then got too busy to try)
A/N: Like I said in the warnings, I need to watch The Red Door again bc I feel like I'm not writing Dalton as well as I used to, but I have finals this week so this is the best I can do for now. I may revisit this next week and rewrite it if anyone is interested, but for now enjoy some fluff (which Dalton very much deserves after the semester he's had)!
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The best part of JPU, in your opinion, is that your last class of the week is across from the art building. Better, is that you get to see the guy you wish you knew. You know his name because his friend yells it whenever she is around. But that is all you know about Dalton. Though you want to know more.
Dalton watches for you when he leaves Professor Armagan’s class, wondering what it would be like if he dared to introduce himself. You’ve waved at Dalton a few times, and he’s awkwardly returned it or pretended not to see you. Every time Dalton walks back to his dorm, feeling disappointed, ashamed, and prepared to get yelled at by Chris.
When December begins, you can’t help but imagine how different the holiday season would be if you could talk to Dalton, get to know him… fall in love with him. The last idea hits you out of nowhere, but you mean it. The rest of the students at JPU seem disinterested in the time of year, with no sign of the Christmas spirit anywhere to be seen. Deciding that something needs to be done, you pull on an invisible Santa hat and set out to bring the spirit of Christmas to JPU until everyone goes home for Christmas.
You pile all of the homemade decorated cookies (and some undecorated, in case someone doesn’t like icing) onto a Christmas platter you picked up from the nearby grocery store. After dressing up with a Mrs. Claus dress pulled over your warmest leggings and a long-sleeve thermal shirt, you leave your apartment and walk to the nearest dorm building. Nearly everyone on the first floor accepts at least one cookie. By the time you reach the third floor, you’re preparing to return to your apartment to refill the platter. As you knock on a door, you count the cookies and decide to offer the last three to whoever is in the dorm. The door opens, and you smile, hoping to spread a little light. You see Dalton on the other side of the door, and your smile grows.
“Hi,” you greet. “I’m handing out Christmas cookies, could I interest you in one? Or three?”
Dalton’s jaw drops nearly imperceptibly as he looks between you and the platter.
“I’ve been watching you, I wanted to meet,” he blurts out. His eyes widen as he rushes to correct, “I mean- not like stalker-watching you, I just know when you have class and I wait until I see you when you leave. No, that’s not better, um-”
You laugh, shifting the platter so you can lay a hand on his arm. “It’s okay. I’ve been wanting to meet you too,” you admit.
Dalton nods, unmoving because you’re at his dorm and touching him. His mind races, forming plenty of things to say, but nothing comes out.
“So, do you want a cookie?” you repeat.
“Oh, yes, please. You- you can come in, if you want, since you said you wanted to meet me.” Dalton cringes as he finishes, whispering an apology.
“Sure,” you agree, entering his dorm.
You set the cookies on a clear corner of his desk, walking to the edge of his bed to inspect the art on his wall. Each piece tells a different story and you feel like you know Dalton more after each picture.
“Are you selling the cookies, or? I mean, I’ll pay for them if you are,” Dalton says, watching you look at his pictures.
He notices your eyes light up as you turn to him and say, “No, I’m not selling them, just handing them out. I’ll accept payment anyway, though.”
Dalton’s brows furrow as his arms drop. You realize you confused him with the conflicting information, so you decide to show him instead. Grabbing his sweatshirt, you pull him to you, kissing him as payment for the cookies, for allowing you to come in and get to know each other, and most importantly, and the opportunity to fall in love with him.
When you pull away from him, breaking the kiss, his eyes remain closed as he mumbles, “That works.”
“I’m glad we finally met,” you tell him.
“Me too.”
“There’s still cookies over there.”
Dalton rolls his eyes and smiles before leaning in to kiss you again.
✯✯✯✯✯
After turning in your last test, marking the official beginning of Christmas break, you run to the art building and wait for Dalton to finish his final presentation for Professor Armagan’s class. When the door opens, you perk up, standing on your toes to watch for Dalton.
“Dalton!” you yell, waving at him when he appears.
He smiles, rushing down the stairs and pulling you into his arms as he asks how your final went. 
“Cookie girl!” several people yell, hooting and pointing at you. “Be my Mrs. Claus!” one of them requests.
“My cookie girl,” Dalton says shyly, looking into your eyes as his arms tighten around you.
“Your cookie girl,” you agree, boldly kissing him in front of all the students.
The previously interested guys boo playfully as they continue walking, and you hear Dalton’s friend yell his name in surprise. You pull back, turning into Dalton’s shoulder before facing her.
“This is Chris,” Dalton introduces you. “Chris, this is my cookie girl.”
You roll your eyes at Dalton as you shake Chris’s hand.
“Oh my gosh, my roommate saved me one of your cookies; they were so good!” she gushes.
“Best priced cookies I’ve ever gotten,” Dalton says as he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you against him.
Because of a few cookies, you went from staring longingly across campus to see each other to running into his arms. They’re the best-priced cookies you’ve ever had, too.
53 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 4 months
Text
Hidden Gifts
Day 10 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Victor Vale x fem!reader
Summary: You sneak out to buy Christmas presents, but when Victor wakes up to find you missing, he inflicts pain until he finds you.
Word Count: 1.1k+ words
Warnings: angst, fluff, it's somewhat implied that the reader is an EO. This could be platonic if you ignore 1 little thing.
A/N: The hot chocolate gif is based on 1 line from the fic bc none of the (far too few) Vicious gifs matched this. Sorry this is kinda short, but I will be working on the Victor series over the next few weeks! Feel free to send me ideas, requests, or feedback! :)
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You sit up slowly, willing the bed frame not to creak as you stand. Sydney’s door is open, but she’s asleep, her arm wrapped around Dol as his snout rests against her neck. Smiling at the sight, you continue sneaking down the hallway, glad that Victor’s door is closed and Mitch is sound asleep. Pulling your coat on, you slip out the door, away from Victor Vale.
The streets of Merit are busy, last-minute shoppers milling in and out of stores. Christmas decorations make the town seem brighter than in broad daylight, and the Christmas spirit feels tangible.
Finding the perfect gift for Sydney, you put it in your basket and continue shopping. Victor is the hardest to shop for; you’re not sure what he would want. Another trench coat? World peace? Who knows.
✯✯✯✯✯
Victor rolls over, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he wakes. His pale brows furrow as he realises something feels off. The pain dial in his mind always has at least three outward connections: Sydney, Mitch, and you. Occasionally, there are more, like when Dom is around, but now he can only feel two.
He gets up and walks across the hall, the steady sound of Mitch’s breathing alerting Victor to his presence. Moving toward Sydney’s room, his concern grows as he wonders how and why she would be gone at this time of night. She’s curled in her bed, wrapped around Dol, though. Which only means one thing: you are gone.
Victor approaches Sydney’s bed and lays a hand on her shoulder to shake her. He says her name, whispering an apology to Dol when he stretches awake.
“What?” Sydney asks, her eyes still closed.
Victor says your name, and Sydney’s eyes open.
“What about her?” she asks, sitting up.
“She’s not here. Do you know if she went somewhere?”
“No, she didn’t say she was going anywhere. Are you sure she’s gone? Maybe she’s just in the other room.”
“I can’t feel her, to control her pain I mean. She’s not here, Syd.”
Sydney gets out of bed, maneuvering over Dol, who is content to go back to sleep, aware of Sydney’s anxiety but too tired to care. No one blames him.
“Mitch!” Victor says as he enters the bedroom.
“Too early,” Mitch grunts.
Victor ignores his complaints and asks if he knows where you are. Mitch rubs his eyes before rolling over to look at Victor.
“She’s gone?”
Victor’s jaw clenches before he walks to the front door. Sydney and Mitch follow him, wondering what his plan is.
“I’ll find her,” Victor vows, pulling his coat on. “Stay in here. I can’t wish a good night to all.”
The door slams shut, and Sydney looks up at Mitch.
“Was that a Christmas quote?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah,” Mitch answers, his eyes on the door. “He cares about her, so…”
“He’s going to find her no matter what.”
Mitch nods, directing Sydney to the kitchen as he gathers the ingredients for hot chocolate.
“Do you think she’s okay?”
Mitch smiles as he says, “She can handle herself. And I don’t think we need to be concerned about her safety or well-being, not with Victor out there.”
✯✯✯✯✯
As Victor walks down the street, he turns the dial up more than necessary. What should be causing people to turn away from him is instead making people fold in on themselves and collapse in pain. Victor notices that nearly every person in Merit has a shopping bag, so he starts looking into stores. He wonders why you’d be out shopping without telling anyone, even as he searches a store window for you.
The next store he approaches has too many Christmas decorations in the window to see anything, so he sighs before walking in. Tired and dealing with an anxiety he isn’t used to, Victor turns up the dial as he walks down the centre aisle. Several people groan with pain, and Victor ignores everything as he tries to focus on finding you with the pain.
“Vic,” you whisper harshly, somewhere in the store.
He turns down one of the aisles and finds you staring at him, holding your shoulder like it’s in pain.
“What are you doing?”
The pain immediately lessens, and you drop your hand, several shopping bags falling by the full basket beside you.
“You left without telling me,” Victor explains, “what was I supposed to think?”
“You were supposed to stay asleep! It’s midnight, why are you here?” you argue.
“Why are you here?”
“Because I’m buying Christmas gifts. Believe it or not, Sydney and Mitch, even you, deserve Christmas. We don’t have to hide anymore, Vic. Well… now we do because you knocked out half the people in this city.” You add the last part sarcastically, but Victor knows you’re right.
The people in the store recover and begin shopping again, in just enough nudging pain that they don’t look at you.
“Let’s go,” Victor demands, turning away from you.
“I need to pay for this.”
You see Victor’s shoulders rise and fall with his exasperated breath, but he gestures for you to lead the way. He stands behind you, glaring at the young cashier until he finishes ringing up your purchases and begins gift-wrapping them. Victor silently opens the door for you, taking some of the bags and turning everyone away as you return to where you should have been all night.
Victor opens the door and follows you inside before setting your bags down. He turns to face you, tossing his coat onto a nearby chair.
“You can’t just leave like that. Those gifts aren’t the only ones that need to be hidden, and you know it,” Victor says.
“And you know that I can take care of myself, Vic. It has been a terrible year and I just wanted to do something nice, make this Christmas special, is that so bad?” you respond, crossing your arms.
Victor sighs and drags his hands down his face. “I care about you, as much as it pains me to admit,” he pauses as you stifle a laugh, waving a hand to make him continue. “When I woke up and you weren’t here…”
“You assumed the worst.” You place a hand on Victor’s shoulder and promise, “I’m not going anywhere, Vic. I care about you, too, and Sydney, Mitch, and Dol. You’re stuck with me.”
Victor looks at your hand on his shoulder, then grabs your other hand, pulling you into him before he tilts your chin and kisses you.
“I knew I should have gotten mistletoe!” Sydney whines as she walks in. Her attitude changes when she sees the bags, approaching them to ask, “What’d you get?”
You gently slap her hand away and reply, “You have to wait ‘til Christmas morning.”
“Yeah, kid,” Victor teases.
“You do too,” you tell him.
“Just for those gifts, right?”
You roll your eyes, smiling as you walk away with the bags.
“Just for those, right?” he yells after you.
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
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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!!)!
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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.
12 notes · View notes
fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
Text
Redeemed
Day 3 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Clint Briggs (Spirited) x fem!reader
Summary: Four years after Clint broke your heart, he knocks on your door. You plan to close the door in his face but see a different man than the one you used to know.
Word Count: 2.7k+ words
Warnings: spoilers for Spirited (2022) and a specific reference to the song 'Bringing Back Christmas,' fluff, slight angst, flashbacks are italicized, more fluff.
A/N: Spirited is one of my favorite movies, and the Santa suit is one of Ryan Reynold's best looks! I wrote this last Christmas but I changed a few things and I like how it turned out. Clint is an underrated character and deserves more attention (I also changed his ending, which he also needed because... that ending? woof).
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Christmas Past – 4 Years Ago
“You already made me watch Nora leave, and the worst day of my life. What more do you think you can accomplish?” Clint asks.
“Maybe nothing,” the Ghost of Christmas Present says, gesturing to the new setting.
“Clint, can you please just listen to me?” a young woman asked, standing across the desk from Clint.
“I don’t know what you want from me! Do you want me to quit my job? Leave everything I’ve worked so hard for?”
“Please don’t do this, I’ve relived it enough,” Clint pleads, his eyes not leaving the woman.
“No, of course not. I just think you need to rethink what exactly it is you’re doing, what you’re sacrificing,” the woman continued.
“And what is it that I’m sacrificing? Time with you?” Clint asked sarcastically.
“This isn’t about me, Clint. This is about you turning your back on who you really are. You are an entirely different person than the guy I used to know. This company is stealing more of your soul every day!”
“If you hate who I’m becoming so much, you can go,” Clint said, bordering emotionless.
“I don’t hate you, Clint. I miss you,” she said, shoulders dropping.
“If you think I’m going to change, even for you, then you really don’t know me.”
She took a deep breath before looking into his eyes, “Do you want me to leave?”
Clint’s gaze leveled with hers. “I won’t stop you.”
“Clint,” she said, stepping backward toward the door, “you’re a good man. I hope you realize that someday.” She turned and walked out the door, not looking back.
“I remember all of this, what’s the point?” Clint asks.
“You didn’t see this part.”
“What happened?” Kimberly asked, standing when she saw the girl exit Clint’s office.
She had tears streaming down her face as she said, “I don’t even know him anymore.”
Kimberly hugged her, shaking her head as she looked at Clint’s office door.
“She’s spent every Christmas since then alone. Sad.”
Clint can’t speak, willing himself to wake up from this dream.
Present Day
Time freezes as Clint braces for the impact that doesn’t come. Music begins to play as “Roberto” cheers that this is it. Breaking into song, yet again, Clint finally understands the beauty of changing and doing good things. As the song ends and time remains frozen, he starts running, leaving the bus to squeal to a stop for no reason. He runs through town into a residential district, not stopping as people whistle and yell at “Santa Claus.” Turning down a once familiar road, he slows in front of a house. More Christmas lights are on this house than the rest of the street combined. A Christmas tree in the front window harshly contrasts the blinking LED party lights next door. He walks onto the porch, freezing as he raises his hand to knock.
The party next door is driving you crazy. You are trying to enjoy your favorite Christmas movie and hot chocolate in peace, distracting yourself from the now-familiar loneliness of the season. Four people in Christmas costumes have already come to your door by accident, causing you to pause your movie and direct them to your neighbor’s house. One of the partygoers hit on you, but it didn't help you feel any better. You finally get comfortable again just before the doorbell rings. Sighing, you remove yourself from the nest of blankets on your couch, and goosebumps spread down your arms at the new lack of warmth. Looking out the peephole, you see the top of someone’s head and a Santa suit. 
You open the door a few inches to say, “Party’s next door.”
Someone says your name quickly, stopping you from closing the door. You pull the door open further, standing halfway in the opening.
“What are you doing here, Clint?”
Clint smiles, a small, sad smile, as he looks at you, but it falls when he begins speaking. “I know I shouldn’t be here, but I need to tell you that I’m sorry. If you want to slam the door in my face, I deserve it. But you have to know that letting you walk out that day was the worst mistake of my life.”
You shake your head and argue, “No it wasn’t.”
He furrows his brow in thought before nodding. “You’re right. I’m working on that one though; Owen and I are going to the lawyers after New Year’s so I can adopt her.”
“Seriously?”
“A lot has changed tonight. I think I’ve changed tonight." Clint smiles, chuckling as he thinks about everything that has happened. “I couldn’t let another Christmas go by without apologizing to you. I’m sorry if I overstepped by coming here but I had to let you know. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I miss you and I regret everything I said and did.”
You open your mouth to say something before closing it again and looking up into the sky. As you step onto the porch, hugging the door frame to keep your distance from Clint, he turns to see what you are looking at, smiling when he sees the snow falling.
“Still love the snow, I see.”
You nod, distracted by the flurries, as you begin walking into your yard, nothing but a thin Henley, leggings, and fluffy elf socks protecting you from the elements. Clint watches you before realizing how under-dressed you are, rushing toward you as he pulls his jacket off and places it on your shoulders.
“You’re going to get frostbite,” he chides gently, standing beside you and looking down at your face as you look up at the snow.
“Do you believe in Christmas miracles?” you ask quietly.
“I’m starting to,” he replies, still watching you with a smile.
You turn to face him, shocked to see his gaze already focused on you. “It hasn’t snowed on Christmas in four years.”
“I know. But you need to go inside, at least put some shoes on,” Clint says.
“What was your plan? After you apologized?” you ask, stepping closer to him.
“Honestly, I thought you’d tell me to get lost. Best case scenario, you’d tell me we could be friends again.”
You nod, rubbing your hands together to warm up. “Do you remember what I said to you that day?”
“You said I was a good man and you hoped I realized it someday.”
“You finally realized, Briggs.” You smile for the first time that night, and Clint feels his heart skip at the sight.
“You need to go warm up,” Clint whispers.
“I feel fine,” you reply, smiling. “But if you want hot chocolate, we can head inside.”
“I would love some hot chocolate.”
You boldly take his hand, leading him inside and closing the door behind him. As you walk into the kitchen, he stops by your fireplace, looking at the pictures on the mantle. He runs his finger along the top of one of you and him, smiling as he remembers the day it was taken.
“I have something for you,” you say as you return and set the hot chocolate on the coffee table.
You grab a gift from under the tree and pass it to him. He sits on the couch with it, watching you as you sit on the ottoman across from him. He tears his eyes from you, opening the gift and smiling.
“I meant to mail it every year, just… couldn’t,” you explain, shrugging.
He sets the box on the table. “Thank you,” he says quietly, eyes dropping to the floor before looking back at yours. “I like your elf socks,” he teases.
“I like your Santa suit, very GQ winter edition,” you reply.
“It’s not even complete right now!”
“Oh,” you say quietly, moving to take the jacket off.
“Hey,” he interjects, his hand covering yours. “I’m kidding, you’re fine. Looks better on you anyway.”
“That’s not correct.”
He glances at the TV. “Your favorite. How many times have you watched it this year?”
“Too many,” you answer, laughing. “Not like I had anything else to do.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Why did you believe in me? You always told me I was good; did you really think that was true?”
“Of course, I thought it was true. I know you, and no matter how hard you tried to hide it, it was still obvious you were good.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you.”
“You didn’t have to, Clint. I always hoped you’d realize how good you were and find someone who actually deserved you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You were always going to be too good for me.”
His hands grab the corners of the ottoman, dragging it so it is right in front of him. Your knees touch his, and your breath catches at the proximity.
“No, I wasn't,” he says.
“Clint, you deserved better. Someone who wouldn’t have walked out that day.”
“You deserved someone who wouldn’t have let you leave like that.”
You silence as you look down at your hands, fiddling as you try to think of something to say.
“I’m sorry for, uh, interrupting your movie and your Christmas. If you want to come over for Christmas, please feel free,” Clint says as he stands and walks to the door, closing it behind him as he leaves.
You look at the empty seat in shock, jumping up and running behind him. “Clint!” you yell as you follow him onto the sidewalk.
He stops and turns back toward you.
“You can’t just tell me all that and then leave!”
“I thought you were mad I came over,” he explains, hands moving as he speaks. “I didn’t want to ruin another Christmas for you.”
“Clint, you didn’t ruin Christmas for me. Yes, I miss you like crazy every Christmas, but it wasn’t ruined. I’m the one who made the problem.”
“I don’t want to hurt you again.”
“Shouldn’t I get a say?”
He shrugs noncommittedly, eyes going over your shoulder to the party momentarily.
“You forgot something when you ran out,” you say.
“You can keep the jacket.”
“Not what I meant.”
“The gift?”
“No.”
“I don’t- “
You cut him off, stepping toward him, wrapping your arms around his neck, and kissing him. He freezes momentarily before wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer as his lips move against yours. You and Clint shiver in tandem, pulling apart but keeping your arms around one another. The snow falls heavier, beginning to coat the ground.
“You’re still not wearing shoes,” Clint points out.
“You ran out like the place was on fire, I didn’t really have a choice."
Clint leans down, nudging his nose against yours before his phone begins ringing.
“Hey, Kimberly,” he says, gesturing his head back towards your house and wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you begin walking. “Yes, thanks. We’ll be there… Yes, we… I know… Bye.”
As you enter your house, he ends the call and turns to look at you. You extend the Santa jacket to him and laugh as he puts it on.
“Was that my best friend Kimberly?” you ask.
“It was,” he answers, wrapping his arms around you as he walks to the couch.
He falls back on the couch, pulling you into his lap.
“Who is we?” you ask, leaning against his chest.
“Us. You and me.”
“And what exactly did I agree to?”
“Christmas at Kimberly’s. Owen and Wren are going too. They were all ice skating tonight and came up with it.”
“Why didn’t you go ice skating with them?”
“I was there for a few minutes. Then Roberto lost it and I had to come to see you. Oh, hey, you get to meet Roberto!”
“Who?”
“The guy that helped me change, he’s my bro.”
“Oh.” You nod as your eyes narrow. “I’m eternally indebted to him for that one.”
“You did, too,” he adds.
“Whatever,” you mumble, rolling your eyes and leaning into him further.
“I have a gift for you too. We can go get it on the way to Kimberly’s.”
You turn into his chest, leaning up to kiss him again. He returns it, arms wrapping around you and holding your shirt. He pulls back suddenly and looks at you.
“Is this my shirt?”
“It used to be. Mine now.”
“I stand by my previous statement that you look better in my clothes.”
“And I stand by my previous statement that you are wrong and absolutely no one could look better in that than you.”
“Are you saying I look good?” he asks, raising his eyebrows and smiling.
“Yeah,” you say, as if it is obvious. “You should wear it tomorrow.”
“I wore it to a costume party today.”
“You could wear it every day and no one would complain, Clint.”
“I’m trying to ease up on the ego, so chill,” he requests, laughing at your comment.
You roll your eyes before kissing him again and standing.
“Where are you going?”
“I was thinking about running down the street again.”
“Rude.”
“I want hot chocolate,” you say, shrugging before picking up the mugs and walking into the kitchen.
Clint is right behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his chin to your shoulder as you reheat the drinks. You return to the living room and restart the movie, watching it as you drink the hot chocolate. As the movie ends, the party next door finally wraps up, and the lights and music turn off as cars drive away.
“Who has a party that loud on Christmas?” Clint asks. You glare at him silently, and he sighs before conceding, “Yeah, I heard it as I said it. That’s not the same neighbor you used to have, is it?”
“No, the new guy’s name is Doug.”
Clint leans back with the force of his sudden laughter. “I’m sorry, just- “
“I know. Kimberly has sent me videos of all of your performances.”
“Are you serious?” he asks, face falling as his laughter ceases.
“That’s why she’s my best friend.”
“I thought I was your best friend,” he says, frowning.
You kiss him again before whispering, “I think we’re more than friends.”
“Tonight went much better than expected,” he says against your lips.
Christmas Day
You walk to the large window in Clint’s penthouse while he gathers his gifts before going to Kimberly’s house. He walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. You lean against him and hold his arms. 
Turning in his arms, you kiss him before whispering, “I love you, Clint.”
His eyes widen, and he raises one arm behind your head and hugs you tightly. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he repeats before kissing the top of your head.
“That’s a lot of love,” you say, chuckling wetly.
“One for every Christmas I wish I had said it.”
You pull back, and he wipes your tears before kissing you again.
“We need to go,” you say quietly.
“Five more minutes,” he replies, squeezing you tighter.
Wren yells your name and rushes forward to hug you when you walk in, followed shortly by Kimberly. 
“Why are you still wearing that?” Wren asks Clint, laughing.
“Someone liked it,” he answers, gesturing to you.
“I asked you to wear it and you said no!” Kimberly exclaims.
“Yeah, but I love her a little differently,” Clint counters.
Your eyes widen as Kimberly and Wren hug both of you again.
“’Bout time!” Owen yells.
The doorbell rings, and Kimberly opens it, announcing, “Roberto’s here!”
“You’re together!” Roberto cheers, looking at Clint’s arm around your waist.
“I feel like I missed a lot,” you whisper to Clint.
“I’ll explain later.”
“So, you lived your own Christmas Carol?” you ask, back at his penthouse with his arms around you.
“Pretty much,” Clint answers.
“And you saw me in Christmas Past?”
“Mmhmm. And then I ‘changed’ and immediately came to see you.”
“And Roberto is Christmas Present?”
“Retired, but yes.”
You nod, eyes going to the bookshelf behind Clint.
“Do you believe me?”
Your eyes widen as you nod. Clint turns to see Marley standing on his table.
“What do you want, Marley?”
“I wanted to ask if I could use part of your song for future unredeemables?” he asks.
“Sure,” Clint agrees.
Marley falls through the table, his chains following him. 
Clint dodges one of the chains as he yells, “Still not funny!”
“Huh. Sounds like a movie,” you say, more to yourself than Clint.
“Kind of does. I’m glad I got the girl,” he says, smiling before kissing you.
“I love you, Clint. Merry Christmas.”
“I love you. Merry Christmas.”
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
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Christmas Tree Farm
Day 2 of 12 Days of Ficmas
Pairing: Victor Vale x fem!reader
Summary: Sydney wants a Christmas tree and you offer to take her to get one, but Victor refuses... to let you go alone.
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
Warnings: fluff, random Christmas tree facts, references to Vicious and Vengeful, Victor is sarcastic, Sydney and reader team up against Vic... more fluff.
Masterlist Directory | Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info
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“Victor,” Sydney groans, dragging out the last syllable as she collapses on the couch beside you. “It’s almost December, we need a Christmas tree.”
“Sydney,” Victor mocks. His care for her overrides his sarcasm as he says, “We can’t walk around freely yet. Just because Eli is gone and Merit PD is normal again…”
“As normal as they can be,” you add quietly.
“None of it means we can just walk down the middle of the sidewalk and get a Christmas tree like a normal family!” Victor finishes.
“But we are a family, right?” Sydney asks, looking up at Victor.
You glance at Sydney’s big, watery blue eyes, obviously trying to guilt-trip Victor into agreeing. Looking over to him, you see that he’s avoiding looking directly at her eyes.
“I’ll go with her,” you offer. “Although, I’d argue that looking like a family would be more inconspicuous than just one or two of us.”
“You’re not helping,” Victor snaps, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I said no.”
“And we’re not accepting that,” Sydney says, lifting her chin defiantly. “Just admit you’re scared and then we’ll go get a tree.”
You press your lips together to hide your smile and look at Victor.
“You’re not going alone,” Victor says.
Sydney points to you and says, “I know. We’re going.”
“No, I mean, the two of you are not going alone.”
“You want us to take Mitch? He’s as big as a Christmas tree; not exactly what I thought when you said, ‘Be invisible.’”
You laugh at Sydney’s impression of Victor, waving a hand at him as you apologize.
“Just- let me think about it,” Victor decides before leaving the room.
“That was really good,” you whisper to Sydney.
“Oh, I can do one better!” She puts her hand on the couch behind you and leans forward to say, “No one is going to hurt you. Do you know why? Because I’ll hurt them first.”
“I can still hear you!” Victor yells, making you and Sydney laugh even harder.
✯✯✯✯✯
That night, after Sydney goes to bed, you knock on Victor’s open door. He looks up and takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he invites you in.
“If you’re here to ask me to get a tree, it’s not happening.”
“I actually just wanted to ask why.” You sit at the end of his bed, looking at him as you fiddle with his blanket. “You made the decision, and I’ll respect it, but I don’t get it.”
“If we go out and get noticed, there’s no way of knowing what will happen to any of us. Mitch scrubbed the prison records and filed a death certificate for Sydney, but people who have met us before are out there.”
“I know. But you can distract them, and Sydney has a point.”
“First time for everything,” Victor jokes.
“You know she’s right. No one would think twice about a family picking out a tree. You two already look alike. If someone happens to look at you, they won’t think twice.”
Victor looks at your hands as he thinks. 
“It’s okay to be scared, to be cautious. But there’s no need to live the rest of our lives in hiding just in case. That’s not living, Victor. It’s Christmas. What better time to start a new life?”
“What if there isn’t a new life here?”
“Then we go somewhere there is. You got us away from Merit, Vic, you’ve done everything right. We’re safe. We can stay cautious, and I agree that we should, but that doesn’t mean staying in this cabin until we die of old age, miserable and tired.”
“Being with me makes you miserable and tired?” Victor repeats, pale brows raised.
You smile as you respond, “When there’s no Christmas tree, yes.”
He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching up. “Fine. We’ll take Sydney tomorrow to get a tree.”
You lean forward and hug him quickly before standing, pausing as you feel his awkward pat on your shoulder. “And hot chocolate,” you say over your shoulder.
“And hot chocolate,” Victor affirms, watching you walk away.
He lays down, thinking about you and Sydney picking out a tree and laughing together. Maybe this living thing isn’t such a bad idea.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Get dressed,” you tell Sydney when she enters the kitchen. “Something warm.”
“Where are we going?” she asks.
“There’s something we need to do,” Victor answers, dragging a Sharpie across a book page.
Sydney shrugs and returns to her room.
“What’s the point of the matching sweaters?” Victor asks, Sydney’s excited gasp audible as she finds it in her closet.
“It’s Christmas, Vic, matching sweaters are a necessity. Yours is on the couch to put on before we leave.”
“Not happening.”
“No one will see you anyway, right?” you ask, standing before him with your hands on your hips. “What are you afraid of?”
“You, at the moment,” Victor mumbles.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Sydney asks as she skips back into the living room. “Oh, we match!”
“We do! And Victor will too,” you add, looking pointedly at Victor.
“I thought prison guards were bossy,” Victor grumbles as he leaves his book and walks to the couch, pulling the sweater on instead of his usual black coat.
“You look so cute!” you squeal, scrunching your nose as you look at him.
“This. This is what I was scared of,” Victor admits. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
“There’s a contract. You can’t change your mind,” you point out.
“What contract?” Sydney and Victor inquire together.
“You hugged me last night, that’s legally binding with Vales.”
“You hugged?” Sydney asks excitedly.
Victor shakes his head, following you and Sydney outside as he sighs in exasperation.
✯✯✯✯✯
“First stop,” you announce as you open the door of the Christmas-themed cafe. 
Sydney picks a booth and slides in, wrapping her arms around you in a quick hug when you join her. Victor sits on the other side, looking around at the decorations before his eyes land on you.
“Thanks,” he says quickly.
“For what?”
“Convincing me to do this. You were right.”
Your eyes widen as Sydney's jaw drops.
“Write it down, we can’t forget this,” she whispers to you.
Victor rolls his eyes and distracts the waiter, nudging him to look at his menu pad rather than any of you. After you order three hot chocolates and a stack of Christmas tree pancakes, Sydney asks where else you’re going. You look at Victor and raise your eyebrows, silently asking, “Should we tell her?” He looks at Sydney and then nods.
“We’re going to get a Christmas tree!” you tell her.
She gasps again and looks at you. “How’d you convince him?”
“What makes you think I didn’t reach this conclusion on my own?” he counters.
Sydney looks at him and says, “I didn’t think of that. So, how’d she convince you?”
Victor prepares to answer sarcastically, but the cocoa and pancakes landing on the table interrupt him. He looks at you and smiles, not his lying smile, but a smile that makes you think he’s ready to start living again.
✯✯✯✯✯
“Okay, so I did a ton of research after Victor said no,” Sydney begins as you walk into the Christmas tree farm.
“Never living that down, am I?” Victor asks you, walking side-by-side behind Sydney.
“Give it a few Christmases,” you respond, smiling as he sighs.
“We’re looking for a Fraser fir; it’s considered to be the best tree for families with pets and it’s the prettiest, in my opinion. The house has ten foot ceilings, so we need a tree that’s at least eight feet tall, but preferably nine.”
“How do you intend on measuring them?” Victor asks.
“With you,” Sydney answers quickly, turning down a row of Fraser firs. “I know how tall you are, so I can figure out how much taller than you the tree needs to be.”
“That’s why she invited you,” you say sarcastically, pointing at Victor.
“Sydney,” Victor calls, looking at you. “What if I put her on my shoulders? Would that help?”
You roll your eyes as Sydney says maybe, but she’s more interested in finding a pretty tree than listening to Victor. A man walks by with two kids, too busy wrangling them to notice you, Victor, and Sydney. You take Victor’s hand and give it a gentle squeeze, watching Sydney as you miss him looking at your joined hands.
“This is the one! Victor, come stand beside it?” Sydney requests.
Victor reluctantly pulls his hand from yours and stands by the tree. You move beside Sydney and agree that it’s the perfect height. As Victor begins cutting it, you show Sydney a picture of an ornament you had as a kid and offer to make ornaments with her. When Victor is finished, he drags the tree to the end of the row and lets you talk to an employee about getting it to the car, which Mitch is bringing now.
“It’s interesting that you let her do all the talking for you but can’t stand when she talks to other people,” Sydney hums, standing beside Victor.
“Meaning?” Victor asks.
“You’re jealous.”
You turn around and want to take a picture of Sydney and Victor in their matching sweaters with the snow-covered trees behind them. Pouting at Victor, you ask if you can, and he says it’s okay as long as you take one with them. Mitch soon arrives, and while Victor keeps the employee focused on tying the tree to the top of the car, he takes a picture of you, Victor, and Sydney.
“Putting that on the Christmas card, Vic?” Mitch asks, smiling as he returns your phone.
“I was thinking of putting your mugshot on it instead,” Victor replies, huffing as you smack his shoulder.
✯✯✯✯✯
You and Victor walk back while Sydney and Mitch take the tree home by car.
“Thank you for doing this,” you say, your knuckles brushing Victor’s as you walk side-by-side. “It meant a lot to Sydney, and to me.”
“I’d do anything for you,” Victor says quietly.
You catch his hand as he swings it, interlacing your fingers with his.
“You want to string up some mistletoe while we decorate the tree then?”
“Wait, decorate? I thought we were just getting a tree.”
“It’s Christmas, Vic. Without ornaments, it’s just an oversized house plant.”
“Like Sydney,” he teases. “Do I really have to help?”
“Yep. You said it, we’re family now.”
“I don’t remember saying that.”
“Fine, then, you said you would do anything for me. Do it for me, and Sydney, and Mitch, and Dol.”
“There better be cookies involved,” Victor sighs.
“Cookies and mistletoe. Sydney found some at the tree farm and you bought it for her.”
Victor shakes his head, but when you tug his hand and stand closer to him, he starts to think that maybe decorating a tree won’t be so bad. Not with you at his side.
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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months
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12 Days of Christmas, featuring 12 new fics is here!!
From November 27 - December 22 I will be posting 3 fics each week (Monday, Wednesday, and Friday), featuring 8 characters! This list will be updated to become a masterlist as each story is posted! I hope you enjoy and feel free to send me feedback and requests during this celebration.
Schedule:
Mon. Nov. 27 - Midnight Mistletoe (Dalton Lambert)
Wed. Nov. 29 - Christmas Tree Farm (Victor Vale)
Fri. Dec. 1 - Redeemed (Clint Briggs)
Mon. Dec. 4 - Special Edition (Jason Todd)
Wed. Dec. 6 - White Boulder Christmas (Stu Redman)
Fri. Dec. 8 - Haley's Holiday (Dick Grayson)
Mon. Dec. 11 - Locked In (David ‘Deacon’ Kay)
Wed. Dec. 13 - The Price of Christmas Connections (Dalton Lambert)
Fri. Dec. 15 - Merry and Bright (Tim Bradford)
Mon. Dec. 18 - Hidden Gifts (Victor Vale)
Wed. Dec. 20 - A League Christmas (Dick Grayson)
Fri. Dec. 22 - Christmas on the Clock (David ‘Deacon’ Kay)
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