#Kiss Saves Santa
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youre-in-the-psycho-circus · 11 months ago
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Shandi | Five
Warnings: violence, abuse, hardcore action, language
Word Count: 1,788
Synopsis: The guys of KISS are on a mission from the Elder to find his Avatar in order to save their home Khyscz, and the whole Universe from the threat of the Destroyer. With the help of their powers and music, only She can help them defeat him and restore peace to the universe. An original idea based off of the KISS comics! 
Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
MASTER LIST
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Chapter Five: Nothin' To Lose
Beth nervously stepped off the elevator onto her employer’s floor. Dominque, dressed as scantily as ever, her blond locks pulled back into a tight bun atop her head giving her an eyelift she so desperately needed. “Look who decided to show up.” She rolled her eyes at the younger female. Deciding to be the bigger person Beth bit her tongue as she walked past about to push open the door into Wicked Lester’s office. To her surprise, the door was locked. “Oh, you won’t need to go in there.” 
“Why? Am I finally fired?” 
"Regrettably, no," Dominque replied with a grumble, sifting through the clutter on her desk. "He left you some documents. Given Mr. Blackwell's untimely demise yesterday, he wants to ensure the next in line is well-informed." This revelation sent a shiver down Beth's spine. She had no desire to follow in the footsteps of the unfortunate Mr. Blackwell, surely destined for a one-way trip through some unholy portal. "You best get on with it." Beth accepted the documents and hurriedly departed the office, making her exit from the building as swiftly as possible. Unbeknownst to her, a pair of piercing emerald eyes watched her every move.
After a while, Beth had crossed the first few things off her list as her thoughts about her date with Paul later that day returned to her. She smiled like a drunken fool to herself, he was quite the looker despite what any of the polished business people on the subway this morning might’ve thought. He seemed nice enough too, certainly quite the charmer, but part of her wondered if jumping at the chance of a date with a random stranger on the train was such a good idea. After all, she would be blowing Ace off this evening as a result of it. She kicked a stone up the pavement as she mulled everything over. She had however told him that she might stop by if she could, so it wasn’t a total blow-off in actuality. 
Beth sighed as she stood on a street corner waiting to cross to the delicatessen across the way, she let out a surprised gasp as she felt something brush up against her leg. Her eyes darted down to see a grey tabby cat rubbing its head up against her. It let out a quiet meow as it glanced up at her with piercingly bright emerald eyes. Beth let out a breath of relief once realising it was, in fact, not a rat. “You scared me, little kitty.” She laughed before crossing the road. She made quick work of picking up a sandwich to bring with her to eat later before returning to the street, finding the cat sitting there waiting for her. “I’m not going to give you anything, little one, so run along.” She tried to explain to the cat, but it just cocked its head at her meowing once again. Beth rolled her eyes before continuing on with her work.
It was hours before she was able to take her lunch, and throughout every errand, every train, every cab she took, the grey cat continued to follow her. What it saw in her or what it wanted was beyond her, it’s not like she was giving it food or anything. She was surprised that it hadn’t lost interest yet. Beth sighed as she sat down on a bench in Central Park. It felt good to get off her feet for a little even if it was just to eat the deli sandwich. There was always something nice about the park, the fact that there was something this peaceful and serene in the centre of a bustling metropolis was a god sent. It helped her forget about how busy her own life was for even just a few minutes and it brought her back to reality, back to nature. Just seeing the squirrels and birds hanging about was calming enough to keep her from spiralling down the rabbit hole of her mind. Even as New York City proceeded to chug ahead at blinding speed, life still continued here at its own pace. 
Beth unwrapped the sandwich and was about to bite into it when she felt something brush up against her again. She jumped ever so slightly and turned to see those same glistening emerald eyes staring back at her. “Well, you certainly are persistent.!” She laughed. “Following me, all day.” The cat meowed as if responding, making her giggle. “I bet you’re hungry aren’t you?” She asked, breaking off a little piece of pastrami. “I don’t think cold cuts are good for kitties but here’s a little something for you. Think you’ve earned it, by now.” The cat meowed again, happily taking the pastrami from her. Beth turned back to her sandwich only to find another two solid black felines in front of her staring back at her with their forest green eyes. “What’s next, a tiger?” She asked no one in particular.
“Careful what you wish for, they do have a tiger in the zoo over there after all.” A male’s voice chuckled next to her, making her jump ever so slightly. She hadn’t noticed a man in a black leather jacket and sunglasses had taken up residence on the bench next to her. “Sorry didn’t mean to scare you.” He apologised, reaching out to stroke the back of the grey tabby cat. “These three with you then?”
“Never seen them before in my life.” She laughed trying to shoo away the cats in front of her. “Go on then, I’m sure there’s mice to be caught somewhere.” The cats continued to stare at her before glancing up at the man as if silently asking him what they should do. 
Had she been paying attention, Beth would’ve seen the man jerk his head off to the side ever so slightly as if saying ‘get outta here’. The two black cats meowed in response before scampering off into one of the nearby bushes, only the grey tabby cat stayed. “Looks like they got the message.” He chuckled as he sat down the grey cat climbing into his lap with a purr. “Though this little guy seems like he'd rather stay.” He grumbled, seemingly annoyed. The man looked up at her with a small smile. “I’m Peter by the way. Peter Criss.”
“Nice to meet you,” Beth said rather flatly before biting into her sandwich, she only had so much time to eat before she had to get back to work, and having someone there pestering her was only going to take away from what little time she had. 
He rolled his eyes, a smirk at the corner of his lips. “You know when someone introduces themselves the polite thing is usually to introduce yourself back.” Peter pointed out as the cat meowed as if agreeing. “I know right?” He laughed.
Beth raised an eyebrow at the man, he must’ve been one of the Central Park weirdos. “You know when someone is clearly trying to enjoy their lunch break, the polite thing is usually to leave them be.” She chastised him, mimicking his phrase.
“Feisty are we?” Peter laughed. “I like that in a woman. Just like a panther. The most majestic and mysterious of the cats.” 
“Is this your idea of flirting?” She asked with a raised brow. “Because it’s kind of shit.” 
“Well you’ve got to admit, I’ve got nothin’ to lose.” He shrugged. “Judging by how you’re dressed I’d say you’re a personal assistant, am I right?” She nodded as she bit into her sandwich again. Peter chuckled ever so slightly. “You’d never catch me running that rat race of office work.” 
“And let me guess, you live with these three here in the park.” 
Peter laughed again. “Well that would be the obvious answer but actually no. I’m a drummer in a pretty successful band actually.” 
“Well if it’s successful why don’t I know you?” 
“I’m sure you would if I said the name, but I’m incognito at the moment.” He placed a finger to his lips as if trying to indicate it was a secret. “So how about you then woman? You looking for a change of pace at all? Guy like me, I could show you a good time. Have for countless others” 
Beth glanced at the cat, it stared at her as if waiting for her response as well which freaked her out a little. “Well, you obviously can’t take a hint. The answer is no, I’ve no interest in being another notch in your bedpost, assuming you even have one.” Beth groaned, wrapping up her sandwich. “So you stay here with your little cat buddy and I’ll just go find another bench or something.”
“I’ll go, you were here first.” He said as the grey tabby cat got up and ran off into the bushes. He stood, hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket. “On one condition.”
Beth rolled her eyes with a silent groan. “What?” She scoffed.
“Just tell me your name. Or should I just call you sexy cat woman?” Peter winked. “Maybe just ‘She’ it’s shorter after all.”
“It’s Beth. Alright, bye now.” She grumbled getting her sandwich out once again. 
Peter chuckled again. “Beth huh? Think I like ‘Shandi’ more.” 
“Yeah well when I want your opinion I’ll ask for it, now fuck off.” 
“Deal’s a deal I guess. I’ll see ya around then, Beth.” Peter nodded before walking off. The three cats emerged from the bushes to follow him as if acting as his posse. 
Beth shook her head and went back to her sandwich. It was around twenty minutes later when the dread of having to get back to work on her latest fetch quest settled into her. She began walking down the path toward 5th Avenue, the same path that passed Central Park Zoo. What Peter had said about the cats seemingly stalking her, and the tiger lurking somewhere within the walls of the zoo sent a shiver up her spine. But there was no need to be afraid, right? Surely the tiger was locked up tight. Beth took a moment to glance over her shoulder, she breathed a sigh of relief seeing no tiger. Then again, she didn’t see a soul. Not a single solitary person in any direction. It was like she had walked into an alternate dimension where she was the only person in all of Manhatten. Beth couldn’t shake the feeling that something weird was going to happen before she turned her gaze forward. She stopped dead in her tracks in the middle of the path stood a large…creature. It had a lust for blood in its eyes. Her blood.
Chapter Six: Don't You Let Me Down
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lazytownlane · 2 years ago
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flamingcreature19 · 2 years ago
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unburiedhatchet · 1 month ago
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The perfect meme for Trikey doesn’t exi-
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@crankbaby
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lowkeyremi · 10 months ago
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JJK MEN AS DADS
How they are with their kiddos/babies ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami
content: no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families.
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Gojo Satoru
"Look at my little boy, he looks just like me, what a heart stopper you'll be when you get older!" He praises his two year old, Kenji Gojo.
"'Toru stop trying to manifest our son into a hoe." Satoru turns to you with a loud gasp, eyes wide, and it causes your little boy to giggle.
"How could you say such words, in front of him? Don't listen to Mommy. Daddy was never a player. Never ever!" Kenji has no clue what's happening he just laughs at his father's dramatics.
"Oh brother, I hope he doesn't turn into a drama queen like you. And yes you were a player before I got with you. Remember when you kissed my friend then like ten minutes later tried to kiss me?" Satoru was a menace in college. Every time you bring up that specific college memory he always says-
"Ugh, blame Suguru! He was the one who made me take shots when I didn't like to drink." There it is. That was excuse for two-timing you and your best friend back then.
"Save it for someone who believes you. Kenji, don't be like Daddy when you grow up, okay?" Your husband knows you're joking but he can't help but whine and feel like you're being against him.
"Otay Mommy! Daddy is hoeeee. Hoe hoe hoe. Merry Christmas!" Your poor little boy thinks he's saying the noise Santa makes instead of a derogatory term and it's hilarious.
Of course you encourage him, "Daddy's a what?"
"Hoe!" Kenji screams out with a smile on his face. Satoru frowns loosing his playfulness.
"I-i guess my family just hates me... no one loves me." He sighs loudly to sell it to you guys but you don't buy it. He sits in the corner pretending to cry. "Boo hoo..." Kenji waddles his way over to his father patting his head.
"No cry Daddy, you not a hoe. You Daddy." Satoru fakes a loud gasp when he hears his son comfort him, thinking Satoru is actually crying.
"Really?!" He asks the little boy standing next to him.
"Yeah, Daddy is cool!!" Satoru chuckles, picks up is little boy and tosses him into the air. The small white haired child screams in delight as his father catches him, and you can't deny that all the trouble you and Satoru had in your relationship was worth seeing this.
Geto Suguru
"And then, the monster ate the twin girls who didn't go to sleep at their bed time-"
"Ooooookay. I think that's enough bed time stories from Papa." You say ushering your girls to bed, Hana looks scared out of her mind but Kana's eyes are sparkling with curiosity.
"Awww, Mommy, it was just getting good!" Kana whines, you know she wants to hear whatever else Suguru makes up on spot but he scared Hana who looks like she wants to cry.
"I know sweetie, but I don't think Hana really liked that story." The girls are six and full of energy at any given time.
"Come on baby, let me tell Kana the rest." Suguru matches his daughter's tone, knowing you'll give in.
"Alright, fine, but you need to apologize to Hana, look at her." Your husband looks at his younger twin daughter and he does feel kind of bad for scaring her like that. Suguru likes telling scary stories and myths to his girls just like his father had done to him. He always thought they were super cool.
"Oh, Hana, sweet girl. Papa's sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. How about I tell you and your sister a different story?" Hana looks a little doubtful as do you, but Suguru grants you a smile. He knows you trust him so you give him a stern look before kissing his forehead.
"Don't take too long, I need my cuddles." He smirks, kissing your hand, "Of course my dear."
The twins coo in unison at their parents romantic gestures, they think it's the coolest thing ever. "You girls have your stuffed animals?" He asks them and they nod together waiting for his story.
He tells the two about a princess who needed saving. Her long lost sister came to save her from a scary dragon and they lived happily together.
"That sounds like me and Hana!! I fought the scary dragon and Hana was the princess!!!" Kana says with excitement. Sometimes Suguru sees two little girls he used to foster in his own girls. He wonders how they're doing these days. They're probably grown up by now or at least in their late teens.
"I really wish Mommy had let me name you guys Nanako and Mimiko." He whispers with a soft smile. Kana looks at him in confusion rubbing her tired eyes, Hana's already asleep.
"Huh?" Kana asks.
"Nothing my dear, good night, little one." He tucks her into bed and gives her a tend kiss on the forehead.
"Night night, Papa." She says with a yawn and Suguru makes his way downstairs to join you.
Kamo Choso
Choso bites his lip looking down at his son, the boy looks a lot like you he thinks. Ryuji is his name, you let him name him. "I didn't mean to break it." He whines to his father. Choso has a soft spot for his boy. He reminds him a lot of his little brother Yuji.
"I know bud, but what will we tell Mom when she gets home?" Ryuji had accidentally broken your favorite ceramic mug. Choso was not sure what he signed up for when he got you pregnant but it sure wasn't this.
He and his son were always getting scolded by you. Every time Ryuji gets into some kind of trouble it also happens to be Choso's fault for not watching him closely as you always say. The truth is, Ryuji seems to get into trouble even with his father watching him closely.
"Um... we can tell her it was at the edge of the counter and i walked past it and it fell down. Then it will be her fault for leaving it by the edge." Choso smiles at his devious ten year old. He knows lying is bad but if you heard what really happened you'd scold both of them.
What actually happened as that Ryuji was playing in the kitchen, even though you've warned him against it many times and he knocked your mug down onto the ground.
"Good idea, kid. I don't want to hear Mom yelling again. I might get couch treatment again." Choso shivers at the idea of sleeping on the cramped couch rather than in his warm bed with you.
"You remind me a lot of your Uncle Yuji." Choso says ruffling his son's hair. "You and Mom keep saying that and I don't know if that's good or bad."
"It depends. Yuji can be both." Choso chuckles. His son gives him a crushing hug.
"I love you dad, you're doing great." And Choso didn't know how much he needed to hear those words but they were getting to him.
Fushiguro Toji
"Quit kicking your Ma, ya little brat." He threatens your swelling belly. He gives you a questioning look when you glare at him. Those emerald eyes challenge yours in a staring contest.
"What is with you and threatening our unborn children?" Your question is followed by a giggle.
"Gotta let the brats know who's in charge." He blows out a breath and puffs his chest, you find the whole ordeal ridiculous. The man is a girl dad for crying out loud. Even his oldest, your step-son thinks his father is a clown. And before Tsumiki died there were three daughters in his life.
He thinks your third one is bound to be a boy, but you're secretly hoping for a girl just to further sink Toji's idea of having a little boy to boss around. Megumi comes around maybe twice a month to see his little half-sisters, which means Toji is surrounded by girls all the time.
You like to joke around with him and say, "What do you know? Girls seem to follow you wherever you go." He always grumbles about it being stupid and unfair.
"As I was saying-"
"DAD!!!!! MY HAIR OH NOOOOOOO." Toji's up off the couch in seconds answering at his daughter's beck and call.
He walks into her room to see her braid was messed up. "What happened, Doll?" He asks her, undoing the braid so he can redo it.
"Yui undid my braid!! She took my hair tie and ran to her room!!!" She squeals, in horror at her little sister's thieving.
"Oh did she now? I'll go have a talk with her once I braid this back up." He's gentle with his tender-headed daughter. He quickly braids her hair back up, the pattern memorized. 100% self indulgent bc im tender headed.
"I have this green hair tie, is that okay, sweet girl?" She sighs quietly. "Where are the blue ones?" Toji clicks his tongue. "I can go get one real quick if you hold the end of this braid." He tells her and she's quick to do it. Her favorite color is blue after all.
She cheers when her father returns with a blue hair tie. He ties it up quickly, "Okay let me go talk to Yui." Nami nods brushing out her baby doll's hair.
Toji makes an appearance in front of his four year old's door, she's making her dolls scream at each other. "What was da reason?!!!!" She screams pretending to be one of the dolls, "I had a reason." She makes the other say.
Toji rolls his eyes, his daughter has been watching too much TV with you. "Excuse me miss Cardi B, why did you steal your sister's hair tie?" His hands are on his hips and his eyes are squinted to add to his authority.
"Whattttt, Dad, you know dat?" She asks as if her dad lives under a rock.
"Tch I'm not old, I know what memes are. Now answer the question." She rolls her eyes. You tell Toji she gets her attitude from him.
"If you haf to know I needed it, so I could give Sprinkles a ponytail." Sprinkles is the dog Toji said he was NOT going to get for his girls but caved in and got anyway.
"Ya coulda asked me or your Ma for one rather than stealing it right from your sister's hair." She shakes her head in disagreement. Toji wonders what's going on in her head right now.
"Dad you don't get it! It had to be that one!"
"Why that specific hair tie?" She goes silent turning away from her father and mumbling something Toji can barely hear.
"Speak up, princess." She scoffs and sighs and folds her arms. Wow the sass is unreal.
"Sprinkle thinks Nami is super cool so she wants what Nami has." Toji isn't stupid he knows his daughter is using the dog as a place holder for how she admires her older sister. Yui doesn't like to admit it though.
"Are you sure it's Sprinkle who thinks Nami is super cool?" He gives her the chance to be open with him and she sighs taking the bait.
"I guess. I think Nami is super cool." She murmurs and Toji smirks.
"It's alright to think your sis is cool, Dad didn't get to grow up with any cool siblings. Just annoying cousins."
"Mai and Maki are cooler than you, Dad, not annoying!" The man in question raises his brow his smirk never leaving, "Okay since I'm not cool. I guess I won't take you out for treats anymore when Ma says no."
Little Yui gasps, bursting upward like a rocket and running toward her dad. She hugs his leg, her little head looking up at him, "I was kidding Dad. You're super cool. Please don't stop taking me for treats!!"
Toji smiles, picks up his little girl and tickles her. She screams out for him to stop, "Huh? I can't hear what you're saying."
"Nami help!!!!"
In seconds Nami's attacking her father in a playful manner, "Let go of my sister!!"
"Okay then." Toji holds his daughter upside down by her feet, as she screams some more. "MA!!! HELPPP!!!!"
"Toji put her down." You say in a half-hearted manner.
"She is down. Upside down."
Nanami Kento
"See, you're getting the hang of it, Hiro." Kento softly encourages his son who's struggling with his math homework. You had tried to help him but he screamed that what you were saying didn't make sense. So of course you yelled back, letting your emotions get the better of you.
Kento had stepped in to keep you two from ripping each other's heads off. Plus all that screaming had woken up the baby. You could hear her crying.
That was about an hour ago. You quietly walked into the dining room with your seven month old baby girl cuddled up to your chest as you held her tight.
The sight of your husband helping your son warmed your heart, but you also felt guilt hot in your stomach for yelling at him, he's only twelve.
"Hey, Hiro. Can I talk to you, hon?" You ask softly. Both your son and Kento turn their heads upon hearing your voice. He nods at you and you inhale deeply, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, bud, I didn't mean it."
His eyes soften as do Kento's.
"I'm sorry too, Mom. I started it. You were just trying to help me." Kento's smile encourages you to walk closer to the table which you do.
"We should have had Dad come help in the first place, huh? I'm not good at explaining." Hiro shares a laugh with you, and Kento cups your cheek.
"Explanations might not be your strong suit but you're still a good mother, baby." Hiro gags at his father calling you "baby" he hate when you two get sappy.
You move your head a little so you can kiss his palm. As expected Hiro covers his eyes and making more throwing up noises.
"Oh hush, one day you'll find someone for you, and you'll be just like me and your mother." Kento says rolling his eyes and you giggle. Even though you guys have your differences you guys always forgive each other at the end of the day.
Your little girl coos quietly and Kento holds out his arms gesturing for his little girl.
"She's just had dinner, so she might fall asleep on you." Your warning doesn't bother him at all, if anything, you'll probably have more pictures to add to your baby gallery on your phone if she falls asleep in his arms.
She's already a dad's girl and she's only seven months old. You thought maybe Hiro would be a mama's boy but he's definitely his daddy's son.
You don't mind though, well, sometimes you're a little jealous that you have to share your man with your kids. Kento's a very lovable man though, so you can't blame them.
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peachesofteal · 11 months ago
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Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge
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Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.
His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty. 
His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. 
But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-
“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again… 
It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team- 
“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts. 
“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features. 
“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?” 
“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.
“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.
“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.
“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."
"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.
Purpose.
He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.
"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.
He's grateful he doesn't have to.
"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.
Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."
And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.
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steddieas-shegoes · 11 months ago
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At ten years old, Eddie’s mama gets a raise at work just in time for Christmas. This is the same year Wayne works enough to set aside almost $200 for Eddie’s Christmas presents.
Eddie doesn’t know this, and he’s a kid who knows better than to expect more than a few things in his stocking and one or two “bigger gifts” -usually books or tapes- so it’s a surprise when his stocking is overflowing and there’s a huge box under the tree Christmas morning.
Even more surprising is that it’s labeled from Santa, and Eddie hasn’t believed in Santa for nearly three years despite everyone in his classes still believing. He bounces on his feet while he waits for Wayne to get his coffee, for his mama to finish making their special hot chocolate.
The year he gets his first guitar is also the year he finds out his mama can sing like a rock star.
It’s the year he finds out Wayne used to play bluegrass at a bar back home and probably could’ve made it big if he was willing to leave his sister.
It’s the year Eddie finds out he can play by ear and uses it to his advantage to learn all his favorite songs as soon as he figures out the chords.
And for years, he is quick to pull out his acoustic to learn something new, even when he manages to buy his electric with money from helping fix cars at the shop where his uncle’s friend works.
After he saves Hawkins, and his hands stop shaking enough for him to play, he asks Steve to bring his acoustic to the hospital so he can entertain himself. Steve shares a look with Wayne, then his mama.
“It, uh, didn’t survive…everything.”
Nothing broke his heart quite like hearing that.
He pretends it’s okay though, doesn’t want his mama and Wayne to feel worse than they already did about everything.
He tables his emotions until he’s alone that night, shortly after dinner when everyone goes home to get some rest before the next day of volunteering, and cleaning, and visiting.
He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the door opening, and even though the person coming in is trying to be quiet, the door creaks from the building settling funny during the “earthquake.”
“Steve?”
Steve turns and even in the dark, Eddie can see his blush.
He’s holding something.
Something big and guitar shaped.
“What have you done?”
Steve walks over to him and gently sets the guitar case in his lap.
Eddie opens it and sees a gently used acoustic with Eddie’s name now engraved on the side.
“Steve.”
“You can have nice things. You should have nice things. We don’t have many options right now, but at least you won’t get rusty.”
Eddie cried.
Steve held him.
And after Steve wiped his tears away and kissed his forehead—which was something they’d be talking about as soon as Eddie could focus on something other than the guitar in his lap— he played slower songs, songs that even Steve could recognize, until a nurse realized Steve was here past visiting hours and kicked him out.
When his mama saw it the next morning propped by his bed, she smiled knowingly.
“I see the boy followed through.”
“What?”
“He asked me all kinds of questions about guitars and what your old one looked like and if a used one would be okay. Don’t know how he found one so quick.”
“He’s pretty determined when he sets his mind to something.”
“I think he’s set his mind on you, baby.”
Eddie thought maybe she was right.
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lovelytsunoda · 1 year ago
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naughty list // oscar piastri
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summary: oscar's bored, horny and hopelessly smitten with his lover. but if he keep this up, he's going to land them both on santa's naughty list this year.
pairing: oscar piastri x female reader
prompt: "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip."
warnings: soft smut, praise overload, christmas lingerie, oscar is a big simp, sex on a shag carpet, oscar 'if she's not enjoying herself, neither am i' piastri,
author's note: am i incapable of writing anything wholesome about this man? possibly.
oscar piastri was head over heels for his girlfriend.
perhaps that's how he got himself into this situation, on the couch by the fire on a cold london winter, christmas tree lit up behind the couch, tennis on the tv. fresh gingerbread cookies sat on the island, filling the ground-floor apartment with their familiar and warm scent.
y/n had slipped away just moments before, kissing his forehead and promising a surprise, her nervous giggle punctuating the end of the sentence as she slipped away to the bedroom.
a nervous giggle that made him wonder, if, perhaps, the surprise was a little on the naughtier side. his lover wasn't one for wild bedroom escapades, but the fact that she might have been trying to spice it up a little for him?
it drove him fucking wild. worried him slightly, yes, because he didn't want her to push herself too far out of her comfort zone if she wasn't ready, but excited him nonetheless.
meanwhile, in the bedroom, she was nitpicking everything, standing anxiously in front of the mirror as she twirled her hair. the red set stood out against her skin, and while the corset was almost no different than many of the shirts that she wore, she wasn’t sure how to feel about the lacy panties, leaving so much skin exposed.
she’d never been a lingerie person. she wished she could be, but even stepping into victorias secret sent her in a self-critical spiral. no, until now she had tended to stick to skimpy pajama sets, never as exposed as she was now.
she thought she was being ridiculous, oscar had seen her naked, for lords sake.
but even still, looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if she should have picked the set with the silk robe.
she closed her eyes, counting to ten before she reached for the santa hat on the bed, pulling it over her head and dangling the pom pom on the end over her shoulder.
when she gently trod back into the living room, she cleared her throat to get oscars attention. the driver looked up from his phone, choking on his kale smoothie when he saw her. he promptly dropped his phone, getting to his feet and ambling over to her.
“y/n, love, you look stunning.” his touch was gentle, starting at her hands before running gently along her skin, index finger tracing hearts on her exposed side. “you’re so beautiful, and I’m happy you feel comfortable enough with me to let me see you like this. it’s a privilege I count myself lucky to have.”
she sighed into his touch, fingers messing with the lapel of his flannel. the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, the muscles in his arms flexing sharply as his fingers continued to soothe her skin.
“I thought I’d try something new.” she said sheepishly, a blush rising on her cheeks. “you like it?”
“baby, I adore it.” oscar beamed, leaning in to softly press his lips to hers. she tasted like peppermint, and smelled like vanilla bean as he deepened the kiss, pulling her closer. “my gorgeous girl.” he growled, biting gently on her bottom lip. “all mine.”
smiling sweetly, she pulled oscar closer, wrapping her arms around him and playing with the hair on the back of his neck, pressing gentle kisses to his cheek. the aussie hummed contentedly, his large, warm hands trailing over her back.
he was well and truly smitten.
she looked like a christmas angel, wrapped in red and white, the cutsey santa hat propped on her head. who knew santa hats could be so sexy on the right woman?
"i love you." he hummed, moving to gently kiss her neck, smiling to himself as she propped up on the tips of her toes, gasping softly as his tongue ran over her pulse point. "my darling, darling girl." he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers. "maybe i should dress up next time? get that whole magic mike kinda vibe going on."
she giggled, moving one dainty hand up to cover her mouth as she laughed. god, that laugh. oscar was getting painfully hard just listening to her giggle.
she stepped back, and oscar followed, gently pressing her up against the wall. she winced at the cold plaster pressing up against her smooth skin, but the discomfort was soon forgotten as her lover leaned over her, one hand bracing him against the wall and the other under her chin to tilt her face up. she beamed, trying to hold back her giddy giggles as she stared into his wonderous eyes.
"pretty girl, love of my life." oscar started softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "let's both be naughty and save santa the trip, aye?"
"that's your smoothest holiday line yet." she nodded with a laugh, enthusiastically pulling him closer to her, eliminating the space between their bodies as best she could. "i love you." she said quickly, pressing her lips to his as his hands began to rove her front, fumbling with the strings of the corset top.
she gently pushed his hands away, watching as his eyes grew three sized when she pushed the cups of the corset bra down, nipples pebbling in the cold air, silhouetted against she stunning red of her top.
"you'll be the death of me, sweet thing." oscar laughed, running his hands over her skin. "tell me what you want, pretty girl."
"you, oscar. touching me. kissing me." she sucked in a breath as he bent down, sucking a hickey onto her supple skin, his thumb gently running over her nipple. "making me yours."
oscar groaned, laving his tongue over her sensitive bud, one hand reaching to hold hers close. "sweetheart, just let me take care of you, yeah? give you exactly what you need." he detached from her breast, a line of saliva trailing from her bud to oscar's tongue. he used one hand to wipe his mouth before kissing the back of her hand. "give my sweet perfect angel the full princess treatment."
she smiled down at him as he sank to his knees, nuzzling his nose into the soft skin of her thigh, her fingers carding through his hair. "baby, you left one of the girls unloved." she playfully pouted at him, nudging her other breast. "you don't want the one on the left to think you love the one on the right more, do you?"
oscar laughed, rising to his feet before taking her left breast in his hand. "you're so right, love. wouldn't want one of the girls to feel underappreciated. i hope they know how loved they are."
"you're such an idiot."
"yeah, but you're the one who gets turned on by me acting like a complete and utter fool."
"shut up and kiss me, pretty boy."
"yes ma'am."
oscar kissed her, his hands slipping down to the globes of her ass, lifting her into the air. she squealed, wrapping her legs around him so he was carrying her like a koala, her fingertips gripping his still-clothed shoulders.
well, she couldn't have that. why was she the only one showing any skin?
he set her down on the shag carpet, warmth from the fire gently hearing her chilled skin, hair fanning out behind her head. oscar wasted no time, shedding his flannel and t shirt before he dove right in, wrapping his lips around the tip of her breast. she gasped, arching into him with one hand gripping the carpet and the other in his hair.
“atta girl.” oscar exhaled, sucking another hickey onto her skin. in his opinion, his job wasn’t done until her tits were covered in proof of his undying love. “that’s my pretty girl.”
“need you, baby.” she pleaded, grinding up against his jeans, the denim rubbing at her sensitive core through her lace panties.
she was so shamefully soaked after oscars devotion to her breasts, and she needed some kind of release. she was almost certain that there was a damp spot forming on her lovers jeans as she ground against him.
oscar leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead before slipping his fingers underneath the fabric of her panties.
“you look too pretty in this set to take it off, baby.” he hummed, kissing over the red fabric, nuzzling into her skin as he rubbed his thumbs over her hipbones. “might just have to push them aside, but they’ll get stained badly when I make you see stars.”
“jesus, oscar, just do something!” she groaned, running her finger along his nose. “please?”
“anything for my girl.” he pushed her panties aside, gently pressing his lips to her sopping wet center, his tongue darting out to trace a heart on her lips.
she moaned, throwing her head back, her pelvis rising off the carpet to try and build more friction against her lover. she moaned his name, eyes fluttering closed as she began to see the stars he had promised her.
she was so lucky to have a man like oscar. a man who made her feel so confident in herself, treated her like a queen, and made sure that she got the calm, quiet love that she craved.
“fuck, baby. you taste fucking incredible.” he groaned, holding her thighs open, thumbs rubbing reassuring circles on her soft skin.
oscar could have spent all day between her thighs. hed always been a giver, but when he had the chance to spoil y/n, he was almost certain it made him way hotter than it made her. what could he say, acts of service was his love language.
and when she wrapped her thighs around his head, practically screaming his name, his tongue licking fat stripes up and down her opening, and over swollen her swollen clit?
he had to start thinking about tyre degradation to avoid coming in his jeans.
“fuck, oscar, baby.” she whined, tugging on his hair as his nose nudged her sensitive bud. (he moaned at the action) “just like that. god, that feels so fucking good.”
she could feel the band in her stomach begin to tighten, her thighs closing in around oscars head as pleasure spread around her lower body.
oscars tongue darted in and out of her, the lewd sounds filling the room. “are you going to come for me, pretty girl. yeah? yeah, that’s right, come on my tongue, princess.”
he slipped a finger in, and the sensation of his finger flexing while his tongue played with her sensitive, puffy clit made her cry out, rutting her hips into his face, grinding against his finger and trying to get herself off.
“oscar, im coming!” she cried, the coil in her stomach finally snapping as she cried out his name, fingernails leaving scratches in the skin on the back of his neck.
his hands gripped her thighs; he was holding himself up over the carpet on his forearms, his body shaking she coated the bottom of his face in evidence of her arousal. he moaned at the taste, sitting up on his knees and catching her eyes before sticking his finger in his mouth and sucking the salty fluid off his finger.
she smiled at him, face rosy and flushed. her limbs felt like jelly, arms giving out underneath her as she tried to prop herself up to kiss him. chuckling to himself, oscar braced his hands on either side of her head, leaning down to kiss her forehead, then her cheeks, and then the tip of her nose before, finally, her lips.
“I love you.” they both whispered, one after another, the room silent save for the low hum of the tv and the crackling in the fireplace.
“baby, as much as I would love to stay here with you, I am absolutley throbbing and if I am not inside of you in the next five minutes, I am going to lose it.” oscar chuckled, kissing her softly.
she smiled, giggling as he ran his hands over her flushed skin. “you know you’re going to throw your back out if we do this on the floor, right?”
“yeah, but it will be so totally worth it.” oscar laughed, kissing her forehead softly. “stay right here, and keep warm. I’ll be right back.”
she hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave, eyes zeroing in on both his impressive back muscles and the way his jeans hugged his backside. how did she get so lucky to land such a god of a boyfriend?
when he vanished into the bedroom, she stripped out of the corset, cringing when she noticed the reddened imprints left on her skin from where the wires dug into her. she pulled the santa hat off, dropping it pathetically to the carpet before pulling a blanket around her shoulders. she was slowly regaining feeling in her limbs, a feeling of contentment spreading through her stomach as oscar came back, a festive box in his hands,
“right, so your choices are peppermint, gingerbread and eggnog.” he grinned, tossing her three small packages before slipping out of his jeans.
her limbs tingled as she watched him undo his belt, his rock-hard cock straining against his flannel boxers. it was only when oscar sat down next to her, stealing half of the white knit throw blanket to wrap around his own shoulders, that she looked down at the packages in her hands.
they were christmas themed condoms, a reindeer face smiling up at her from the gingerbread one. she couldn’t help it when she burst out laughing, sniffing the peppermint package.
“oscar! what the fuck?” she managed through laughter. “you know the flavoured bit only counts if I’m sucking your dick right? and that’s not happening tonight.”
“they were a gag gift from lando.” oscar laughed, fiddling with one of the foil packets. “I brought out normal ones too; I don’t know how much I trust these ones anyways.”
she laughed, leaning over to kiss him. “thank you.”
“anything for my girl.” oscar deepened the kiss, his tongue darting out to gently and politely explore the inside of her mouth, pushing her down onto the carpet once again, thigh pushing her legs apart.
he grinded against her sensitive core, trying to find some sort of relief for himself while also making sure that he lasted more than a minute when he finally got inside of her.
her legs curled around his waist, pulling him him closer as they made out, warm and sweaty skin sticking to each other as they warmed up by the fire.
he didn’t even need to pull away to make a grab for the discarded red hat, only drawing back to put it on before he extracted his cock from his boxer shorts.
she giggled, sitting up so she could take him in her hands, jerking him slightly before ripping open a condom package (just a regular one, not the peppermint one she knew he had been eyeing).
laughing to herself, she twirled the end of the hat in her fingers. “I should not find this as hot as I do. just so you know.”
“duly noted. are you ready for me, princess?”
she smiled at him, slipping out of her lacy panties before she straddled him, his sheathed cock teasing at her entrance, shivers running up her spine. “I wanna be on top. wanna ride your cock.”
and who was oscar to argue?
he gripped her hips, her hands on his shoulders as he positioned himself by her entrance. she was so wet that he slid right in, her fingernails leaving crescent marks on his shoulders as she winced, hiding her face in his neck.
“I know, sweet girl.” he moved his hands up and down her back. “i know it’s a lot to take, but you’re doing it so so well. you make the first move, sweetheart.”
she straightened her back, touching her nose to oscars as she began to slowly grind her hips, getting used to every inch of his dick splitting her in half.
“that’s it, pretty girl. nice and easy.” oscar groaned, palming her ass. “that’s it.”
with oscars hands guiding her, she began to pick up the pace, pulling up before sinking back down against his cock.
“fuck, baby, feels so good.” she whined, fingers tugging at the hairs on the nape of his neck. “feels so deep.” she reached for his hand, pressing it to her stomach to show oscar just how deep he actually was.
“yeah? yeah, this cock is all yours, baby. whenever you want it, you tell me. I’ll drop everything to give it to you.” he grunted, one hand gently smacking her ass. she yelped, hips startling before she smashed her lips to his, moving her hips in subtle circles.
he moaned into her mouth, thrusting up to meet her hips halfway, watching as her mouth dropped open in a guttural moan. “you like that, sweet girl? yeah, you just let me take over and fuck you until you’re all blissed out.”
he took the lead, planting his feet on the floor, one hand supporting his weight and the other holding his princess close, her perky, sensitive nipples pressed against his chest as he thrust up, his cock sliding in and out of her like it was nothing.
“oh, yes.” she whined.
“that’s my pretty girl. that’s my fucking girl.” he growled, rolling over so he was on top again. normally he loves it when she rode him, loved the intimacy that came with it.
but he was so pent up that he needed something more.
he slipped her legs over his shoulders, muscles rippling as he leaned forwards to thrust into her, balls slapping against her skin.
her hands gripped his shoulders, slipping down his chest and leaving little pink marks in their wake as he pounded in and out of her, the pom pom on the end of his festive hat dangling in her face
“fuck, I love being like this with you.” he rasped, fingers digging into the shag carpet. “being this close to you.” he started to kiss up the side of her throat, tongue occasionally darting out to lick the sweat off her skin. “you’re so fucking pretty like this, all blissed out and at peace on my cock. love making you feel good, honey.”
he allowed her legs to slide off his shoulders, leaning down to kiss her, swallowing her moan as he bit down on her lip.
“shit, I love your cock, oscar. I love having it inside of me. needed it so bad!” she cried, clinging to his upper body as she let him have his way with her.
she knew he knew what she wanted, what she liked. he could read her like the back of his hand, and she was so blessed to feel safe enough with him that she could just clear her mind and let oscar make her feel good.
“that’s my girl. taking it so well. how are you feeling, princess?”
“perfect.” she breathed, inhaling sharply as his cock brushed up against her walls. “absolutley perfect.” her eyes slammed shut as her walls started to contract, squeezing oscar’s cock for all it was worth
“are you going to come, pretty girl? come all over my thick cock?”
“yeah.” she whined, tears of pleasure pricking the corners of her eyes as he kept slamming into her. “yeah, I’m almost there.”
she almost didnt get to finish her sentence, oscars lips claiming hers against his own as he kissed her deeply, one feee hand coming down to play with her clit. she gripped his biceps tightly, moaning harshly against his lips as she felt herself clamp down on him, seeing stars as she started to let go.
“that’s it, princess. let go for me, cover my cock in your sweet sweet come. give it to me, sweet girl. I’ve got you,”
she came with a cry of his name, feeling her body go weak as all her energy evaporated. the motion triggered oscar’s own orgasm, his entire body shaking as he grunted (arguably louder than she did, back muscles rippling as his body tightened and then went slack) spilling into the latex shield before his arms gave out and he collapsed against her.
“I love you.” he mumbled, kissing her softly before gently pulling out. he reached behind him for the blanket, tucking it around her body before sliding a throw pillow underneath her head. “hang tight for me, baby. I’m gonna go make you a hot chocolate.”
he slipped the condom off, balling it up with the intention of chucking it in the garbage on his way to the kitchen, pulling his boxers back on before washing his hands and pulling two mugs out of the upper cabinets.
y/n watched him from her position on the floor, a soft smile on her face as she marvelled at the scratches on his back, and the pure soft domesticity of watching her lover make her a hot drink after he made her see stars.
he came back minutes later, with two mugs piled high with whipped cream and a foolish smile on his face.
“merry christmas, pretty girl.” he hummed, kissing her softly, not expecting anything more than what it was.
“merry christmas, oscar.”
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @twinkodium @httpiastri @libraryofloveletters @cartierre @lorarri @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck
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cottoncandybitchfuck · 6 months ago
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Fabian Aramais Seacaster, a darling boy, the son of William Seacaster and Hallariel Seacaster. He's a fighter, and his money got him everywhere he wants to be in life. He punched Gorgug on the first day, and he got detention. He didn't get on the owlbears. He ends up in a detention room full of weirdos. They fought in the cafeteria and he could not get on the tables! Two of them die... They became friends while solving a mystery. He got a motorcycle holding a demon within it. He bought gifts for his new friends and didn’t tell them he got them until many episodes later. He learned how to protect people, he became a team player. He became captain of the Owlbears. He mercy killed his dad…He told his mom to get her shit together. He helped kill a dragon and he was just a freshman. He went to his dad’s old stomping grounds and he lost his confidence after he got many pirates killed. He de-classed, and almost killed his motorcycle. He met his grandfather and became a dancer, connecting with his mother’s side of the family. He kissed a fire elemental and gained bardic powers. “Spring Break, I believe in you!” He helped his friends. He went to hell, his motorcycle is a hellhound. He fights on his father’s ship in hell and fights all of the people he helped kill in his freshman year. “You have no heart!” “Toxic Masculinity is dead. I dance Now!” He tried to claw his way through stone to Kristen when she was in danger in the temple of the Goddess of Mystery. He found Gorgug in the Nightmare King’s Forest and hugged him, a different greeting for the two. He knew they’d be okay because they were the bad kids. He helps seal the Night Yorb, almost getting run over numerous times. He was in love with a mirror, but his friends helped with that. His best friend is the Ball, but he’ll never admit it. He is living alone, and that sucks. He threw a ton of parties and had many study sessions. He did anything to not be alone. He slowly falls in love with another bard but he almost loses her a few times. He lept into a briefcase without a plan to save his friend. His mom is having another kid, and she might love this one more than she loved him. He saves the world again, and finally gets to see his dad. His dad says he would love him without his name being written anywhere, and would give up everything to spend another day with him. But his name is written places, because he is Fabian Aramais Seacaster, and he’s a part of the bad kids. 
It is 4 am (1 pm) in a warehouse in Santa Monica (dorm building, not in Santa Monica) and I am emotional about him
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Shandi | Three
Warnings: violence, abuse, hardcore action
Word Count: 2,022
Synopsis: The guys of KISS are on a mission from the Elder to find his Avatar in order to save their home Khyscz, and the whole Universe from the threat of the Destroyer. With the help of their powers and music, only She can help them defeat him and restore peace to the universe. An original idea based off of the KISS comics! 
Prologue | 1 | 2
MASTER LIST
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Chapter Three: When Lightning Strikes
Beth awoke the next morning feeling more relaxed and refreshed than she had in a long time. It was as if her inner demons had been stripped away from her in the night. She hadn’t a care in the world as she snuggled in closer to her pillow which felt even more comfortable than usual. It took her all of two seconds to realise that her pillow was breathing. Beth’s chocolate eyes shot open to catch sight of Ace’s bare chest where her head lay. His breathing was slow, shallow, and even, she didn’t have to look up to know that he was still sleeping. The last thing she wanted to do was disturb him, especially after all that he had done for her the previous evening. It certainly had been a shit storm of a day, and the fact that the dark clouds didn’t continue to hang over her head was a surprise to the female. Even knowing that she would certainly struggle to cover up that unsightly bruise on her face did little to put a damper on her tranquillity. Usually, when a day as shit as yesterday occurred, it was a few days before her mind would allow the sun to shine again for her, but this time things were different, and she was almost certain it was because she had Ace to lean on for support this time. What else could it have been? It’s not like mystical beings from another world blessed her or something while she lay dormant during the night. 
Beth felt Ace’s grip around her waist tighten ever so slightly as he let out a yawn. “Mornin’ Dollface.” He groaned as he stretched, his voice two octaves deeper with sleep still fresh upon him. “How’re ya feelin’ this mornin’?” 
“Much better than last night.” She sighed sleepily burying her face into his chest. “Thank you for everything, Ace. I really owe you one.”
“Hey, ain’t nothin’. I’m just glad you’re okay after all ya went through.” He said as he ran a hand through her long dark hair. “But if ya wanted to repay me with like a kiss or something for your knight in shining armour, ya know, I wouldn’t say no to that.” He chuckled slightly. 
“Well, I suppose that could be arranged.” She smirked leaning up to plant a gentle kiss on Ace’s cheek. Ace smiled like a drunken fool as the feel of his electricity jolted through his cheek. He pulled the girl in even tighter to him where he continued to gently stroke her hair. He let a few of his blue sparks spread through her locks as he placed a seal of protection around her. It wouldn’t do anything to keep physical harm at bay, but it would keep this ‘Wicked Lester’ or any of the Destroyer’s other cronies on Earth from placing any curses upon the poor girl. He couldn’t find any traces of the mind control hex he had sensed last night within her energy signal.
In fact, he couldn’t sense any kind of negativity within her today. The Demon had done well removing the demons from within her, freeing her mind from any and all corruption. “Nobody deserves to get struck by their boss. I’m sure there’s a lawsuit in there somewhere if ya wanna sue him for everything he’s got.” 
The female let out a small laugh as she yawned. “I’m sure you’re right, but whatever it is he’s got, I’m almost certain I don’t want it.” She giggled, mainly referring to whatever strange demonic-like power it was that Wicked Lester possessed. 
Ace chuckled slightly. “Can’t say I blame ya.” He groaned with a scornful scowl as Beth sat up and stretched. He immediately followed wrapping his arms around the brunette before pulling her back down onto the bed with him. “And just where do ya think you’re goin’? The sun’s not even up yet.” 
“Ace!” She laughed nuzzling her head into his chest again for a moment. She let out a sigh of defeat. “I have to be getting on back to mine to get ready for work.” 
“You don’t ‘have to’ anything. Play hooky.” 
“What are we? Kids cutting school?” 
“We could be.” He laughed letting her go, realising there was going to be no way to convince her to stay for him to undress her and have some fun. “Alright….If you must.” He sighed dramatically. “But come back over tonight if you can, yea?” 
She smiled at the man laying next to her as she stood. “I can’t make any promises but I’ll certainly try, my Spaceman.” She winked using the name she had called him last night, not realising its significance to him. Ace shuddered ever so slightly as it felt like a bolt of electricity went flying through him at the sound of his true name leaving her lips. The sound of it was like a flash of light that electrified his heart and soul. If it were the potential cosmic powers within her or the throbbing desire to have her that made him feel this way, he was too tired to say. 
Ace smirked as she stood up, leaning up to reveal his shirtless chest under the misty grey sheets of his bed. “Well just so you know, lightning’s gonna strike tonight, right here in this apartment. I don’t think you’re gonna wanna miss it.” 
“Well then in that case I’ll see what I can do.” She said as she moved to take off the hoodie she was still wearing from the previous evening. 
“Nah don’t.” He stopped her. “Keep it for now, it suits you better anyway.”
Beth blushed every shade of crimson as she pulled up the hood, the hardwood floors beneath her feet sending a chill through her body. “Thanks.” She smiled at the Spaceman. “I’ll hopefully see you later.” 
“Welp, ya know where to find me.” He winked watching as she left the room. 
Beth was none too pleased with having to get into her apartment via the fire escape so early in the morning, a cold one at that, but she found comfort in Ace’s hoodie wrapped loosely around her. It felt like a big hug from him, especially since it smelled like him. Vanilla creme mixed with notes of sandalwood, and lilac. It pained her to strip it off to get in the shower once the water had heated up. The warmth of the water cascading down her bare skin sent a wave of electrifying energy through her. She sighed letting it absorb into every cell in her body as she slowly washed herself of the sins from the day before.
Nextdoor Ace glanced at his clock before staring blankly at his ceiling once again. 06:18. The arcane magics and holistic science’s all grappling for a spot in his head were working overtime as the faint spark of the Elder’s energy tapped at his mind. The usual pang he felt every morning was a little late today, but whoever this person was that contained the enchanted starlight must’ve been having a groggy morning just like he was. He lay there wondering if Beth really might be the one they had been looking for high and low for years now. There was no sure way to rule her completely out just by speculating, but if she really did contain the starlight, why couldn’t his magics detect it? Why couldn’t Starchild’s eye see it? Why couldn’t Catman hear it? And why couldn’t the Demon believe it? “‘Shandi’ will help you lay waste to the Destroyer once and for all. Stop him before he destroys any other world.” The Elder’s final words rang through his mind. Stop him. Stop him. Stop him. 
Ace rolled onto his side with a groan as he plopped his pillow down on his head. For once in his life, he wished that the madness that encapsulated his brain would stop for just five minutes so he could lay in peace. “We’re trying Elder. We really are. I know you’re out there. Please, just give us a sign. Help us out a little.” He pleaded to the starlight, he knew his efforts were futile but at this point, the Spaceman was willing to give anything a try. “There are so many beings in this Universe…let us find ya again so we can save this world and rebuild our own.” Ace grimaced as he felt another harsh pop of the starlight’s energy shoot through his head as if answering him. But as quickly as the signature registered, it disappeared leaving the Spaceman with a dizzying sense of whiplash. “Well, then, ya ask a deity for help.” He grumbled reaching his hand beneath the pillow to rub at his eyes, trying desperately to steady his spinning head for just a moment to reorient himself. He had time to go back to sleep until he had to be at the studio today, but with the magics making his life a particularly worse living hell than usual this morning, he was sure sleep wouldn’t come again so easily, at least until this ‘She’ person was finished getting ready this morning. “From a far-off galaxy, I hear you calling me.” He closed his eyes, silently begging the forces in his mind to let him sleep a little while longer before resuming his duties.
Beth stepped out of the shower and quickly wrapped herself in a towel, feeling even more awake and refreshed than she had been before if that was even possible. She padded her way out of the bathroom into her bedroom where she flipped on the television set to the morning news. “Two days ago, Frederick Blackwell of Blackwell Shipping was reported missing by his family.” A news anchor reported. “Authorities have found no evidence of foul play but refuse to completely rule it out. Police are urging anybody with any information regarding the whereabouts of Blackwell to come forward. Now over to Harold for the weather…” The anchor continued as Beth drowned them out walking to her closet to find her outfit for the day. 
“I could tell you what happened but you’d never believe me.” She muttered to herself. Frederick Blackwell was a horrible man, and being mixed up with Wicked Lester only solidified that status in her mind. Horrible or not, however, nobody deserved the kind of punishment that Lester deemed worthy over whatever crime he committed against him. Beth sighed silently as she pulled a black blazer and matching pencil skirt out of the closet along with a red button-up blouse to wear for the day. The last thing she wanted to do was dress too skanky today after what happened the previous day. She just hoped that things would cool down rather quickly, and that nobody was going to notice the unsightly blemish on her face. “Right…I’ve got to cover that thing…” 
After getting dressed, Beth dragged herself back across the hall to the bathroom mirror before wiping the condensation that had collected upon the glass from the steam off. It took less than half a second for the female to realise there was no bruise on her face. “No way…” She breathed. Thinking it was a trick of the wet, steamy mirror, she raced into the bedroom to her full-length mirror where, to her surprise, the bruise and any and all swelling had completely vanished as if Wicked Lester had never laid a hand upon her. “But how…?” She asked her reflection as if it would answer her. Beth was in utter shock. She was almost certain when she saw her reflection in Ace’s bathroom mirror last night before bed that she had the shadows of Lester’s rage upon her cheekbone. But her porcelain skin lay as fresh as newly fallen snow. The female was absolutely flabbergasted, there was no physical way this was possible. Then again, she had seen a man get sent through a pentagram-shaped portal into the underworld yesterday, so at this point, she was ready to believe in anything. Either it was her lucky day, or lightning had struck earlier than Ace had anticipated.
Chapter Four: Turn on the Night
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alwaysshallow · 11 months ago
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@bunnyreaper's secret santa thing; I had the pleasure to write for @cooliofango ❤️ I hope you're gonna have the best time reading this, love.
AO3 VERSION
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Simon isn't there—that's the first thing you notice, when you wake up.
You think it's odd; he always sticks around, especially in the morning. Either he is reading something in bed, a book or an article, or tries to wake you up, softly, kissing your arm, if it was past nine in the morning.
Right now, even his side of the bed is cold, so he had to leave at least an hour ago, maybe more. You get up with a slight frown on your face, multiple questions in the back of your mind, what possibly could bring Simon out of bed. There's many thoughts, and they aren't really positive; usually if he had to leave, it was something military related. A missile missing, someone to rescue, intel to get or secure.
Being with Riley made you realize how fucked up the world is and how many times it needs to be saved. This time though, in theory, he has vacations that he asked for. Holidays with his girlfriend, he said, which caused you to grin like crazy one, since you loved this term. His girlfriend, his significant other with whom he decided to spend time with, even if he doesn't like holidays.
It's main reason why you aren't really doing anything festive this year; out of respect to him. Sure, you spend more time together, you plan to watch movies tonight, make some food, but nothing really related to Christmas. No lights, no tree, nothing what could possibly trigger his memory with the holidays and make the time worse than it already was.
But now, your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, and your plans are under a big question mark. You don't even know where he is, if he is here, in your shared house that you've decided to buy a few months ago.
"Baby?" you call out, looking around. There's a few boxes laying on the ground, door is wide-open; if you wouldn't know any better, you'd assume that somebody broke in. Knowing your boyfriend though, how he secured the house... hell, it takes only one wrong move and alarm goes off, as Simon said once, shortly after he installed it.
So, door wide-open, bringing in the cold, clear indicator that he actually is here somewhere. And, sooner than later, you'll see him.
You prefer sooner than later, though, so you go through the door, just to see your man with a tree—Christmas tree, to be precise—with shocked expression on his face. Then, he puts it down, just to sneak his arms around you, tight. Just like he loved to do, practically from the start of your relationship.
For a military man, he is very touch starved, and you try every time to give him the love he deserves.
"You didn't wake me," you murmur into his broad chest, at which he chuckles. You look up at him, seeing his brown eyes sparkling.
"Sorry, love. Had to take care of some things," he says, his hand caressing your back delicately. "But 'm here now. Let's go to bed, yeah?"
"Oh, no, no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I want to know why there's a Christmas tree here. And those boxes? Seems like decorations to me, Mr. Riley."
He acts like you caught him red handed on something; Simon looks away and sighs, just to look at you a few seconds later with a semi-guilty look on his face. You have to hold back a laugh; he seems so stressed about something simple, it's adorable.
"I don't like Christmas," he starts, playing with your hair. "But I know you like 'em. Your eyes sparkle every time you see this shit, lights, trees, everythin' and—"
"—Simon, we don't have to—"
"—let me finish." He looks at you, a bit sternly, so you nod. You have to listen to him, especially if he asks you to. "And I just can't do this to you. Take it away from you. 'm a grown man, it's time to change some things. 'specially those hurtful ones."
You gnaw at your bottom lip, silent for a few seconds, as you try to collect your thoughts about this situation. It's hard not to cry right now, given how he overcomes his own weaknesses, just for you. Just for the both of you, so your future will be brighter.
"You are," you cup his cheeks into your hands, "the best man I've ever, ever met. I'm so lucky to have you, you know? A man that's willing to spend Christmas with me the traditional way, to
“You can't say this shit to me,” he warns, his voice almost a whisper. You raise your eyebrow, but you don't stop kissing his jaw, even when he sighs.
"Because that's so bad? Or because that's the truth and you'll blush any second?" you ask teasingly, at which he rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. To see his smile, to see how happy you can make him... you cherish every moment like that, knowing his history. Knowing how hard it was, how hard it still is because demons doesn't go easily.
Yet, you see the progress. His battle, to be more open, to allow himself to be more vulnerable at least around you.
“You’re gonna make me even more addicted," he explains to you, kissing your face a few times. He bangs with his nose against your eyeglasses, but he doesn't really seem to mind. "And I’m already weak. It's like... you're something that I’m not immune to. Everyone will see that later, on that Christmas party.”
He doesn’t say he loves you. That would be crazy, he thinks; every time he told someone he loves them, they died. He doesn't want it to happen with you, not when he didn't think of an idea how to possibly save you, keep you safe and locked, close to his heart.
But he can’t deny that you have him wrapped around your finger and you always will. Task Force 141 knows about you, they even invited you two to the Christmas party later, but the l-word has to wait. You know that he loves you anyway; maybe he doesn't say it, but his actions shows you enough love. And, he has other words—be safe, you know I care about you.
It speaks louder than simple I love you but he knows he's gonna say it. He has to, even for your sake.
"That's good. I love you being addicted." You grin, hugging him even tighter. "Because I'm addicted to you as well. To my big, wonderful boyfriend. Now... about those Christmas decorations."
You wouldn't think that decorating your shared house with Simon would be so fun and chaotic in the same time. Your boyfriend does the lights—since his height abilities are just insane—and you are basically running around with snowmen, reindeers and other creatures that you somehow can associate with winter. Riley also gives you disapproval looks from time to time, telling you to dress yourself properly, as you're just on your pyjamas; it ends up in you being in his big, warm hoodie, since you don't listen.
It's like everything you dreamed for, in domestic matter.
The best is taking care of the tree, though. You two have different ideas—yours with doing it in two colors that compliment each other, red and gold for example, which would give the glamour vibe of the house. Or, Simon's idea which is complete chaos. He looks so happy with placing the ornaments, that you don't tell him about color theory, you don't suggest making it less colorful either.
You just put everything just like he is, with instinct, and when he asks about your opinion, you can't help but smile widely and praise him for being creative. His enjoyment gives you the time of your life, honestly.
"You do it like it's in your blood," you say, laughing happily when he gives your cheek a big, wet kiss. His arms locks around you automatically, his lips dropping a bit lower.
"'st because of you. My girl," he purrs. "Maybe we should take a break and eat somethin', eh? Something Christmas-y."
"Christmas-y?" you repeat, observing with a small smile stomach how he drags you over to the couch, towering over you. He has absolutely no problem with crashing you with his weight, which feels so good considering how warm he is. "What would you like?"
"Anything my woman wants, I'll eat. My civilian woman."
You can't help the sensation of your heart fluttering at this view; at Simon kissing your knuckles, at Simon being so affectionate. You are sure that you haven't seen him like this before, not this open with his feelings.
"Yours. That civilian woman, for a superordinary man," you say, quietly.
“My civilian woman.” Simon’s eyes shine as he repeats your words, a light smirk forming as he gazes down at you. You really are gorgeous, so beautiful as you're there in his arms. "'m not superordinary, but I guess I'll take it."
He reaches over to remote, turning off the light in the room. Now, all that’s illuminated is the moonlight and sparkling, multicolor Christmas lights, casting a pale ray of light in the darkness.
Before he loses himself in your eyes, he leans over and presses his mouth to yours. It’s a slow, quiet, yet passionate kiss—one that sparks a fire in both your souls.
"That sounds very dorky, if you think about it," you chuckle quietly, still keeping his gaze. His brown eyes are fixed on yours, glimmering so gently, you can't help but be lost in them. God, it's even better when he turned off the light. You don't see each other properly, but the dark figures are adding everything to your imagination, when you continue this slow kiss.
You can only hear your lips smacking against each other.
“You’re perfect to me,” he says, his voice husky as he gazes down at you. You make his heart flutter. You always do, but lately, those butterflies have turned into something else, as he told you a dew days ago. "The most perfect woman in the world. Even if it's cheesy, as you say."
"You're such a cheesy man, Riley," you whisper, as you smile at his sudden comment how you are perfect to him. Knowing that he's not the best with words, and still says something like this, was just the most important thing for you. "But I like that in you. Just as much as your soft spot for those romcoms we watch. Even if you call them sappy and cringe," you say, closing your eyes.
"They are sappy and cringe. But it's our type of sappy and cringe," he murmurs into your skin, burying his face in your neck. Right in this moment, he doesn't seem to care about anything else.
And you don't care about anything else either, when you have him right by your side. Safe and secure, far from deployment, far from all those dangerous things probably just waiting for him out there.
"I love you," he whispers.
And you know you have your gift.
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roosterforme · 1 year ago
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Pink Christmas Part 1 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Flying in the annual holiday air show dressed as Santa Claus was just something Bradley considered to be part of his job. But when he meets an inquisitive little girl and her beautiful mom, suddenly he wants to make all of their Christmas wishes come true. The only problem is, your daughter actually believes he's Santa, and he's not sure how he's going to keep up the charade when he wants to pursue you as just Bradley.
Warnings: Fluff, language, single mom reader, mentions of loss of spouse
Length: 8000 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader
Pink Christmas masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @mak-32. Written for @bellaireland1981 Winter RomCom Challenge
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You sat on a beach towel in the grass with your face tilted up toward the warm sun and your five year old daughter on your lap. Never would you have imagined wearing short sleeves and enjoying this kind of warmth in December, but your life had turned unpredictable in the past twelve months. And that included leaving a city that was currently buried in snow for the perpetual summer of southern California. 
"Mommy! Look!" your daughter shouted unnecessarily loudly, making you laugh. She turned around with wide eyes to make sure you were looking where she was pointing as she adjusted her pink noise canceling headphones. "It's Santa!"
You slid her headphones off since it wasn't loud at the moment, and you looked out across the runway at the Miramar Air Show to see a tall pilot dressed as Santa Claus walking toward his fighter jet with a group of other pilots dressed as elves right behind him. "I see him," you told her, kissing her cheek as she bounced with excitement. "It looks like he's going to fly one of the airplanes."
"Why does Santa have an airplane?" she asked. "And where are his reindeer? And why are the elves getting in airplanes, too?"
You were saved from having to answer her questions as the aircraft engines fired to life for the finale of the show, and you put her ear protection back in place before putting your own earplugs back in. Honestly, you didn't know how to explain to your child who still believed in the magic of Christmas why Santa was taking off in a jet that said ROOSTER on the side of it. Frankly there were a lot of things you didn't know how to explain to her.
She clapped her hands when the jets swooped overhead in an impossible looking formation before looping back around and doing it again. Your heart melted as you watched her wave to the lead jet and shout, "Hi, Santa!" The planes roared overhead and shot upwards before coming back one by one to the land on the runway with such incredible looking ease.
When she whipped her headphones off herself this time, your daughter jumped to her feet with a huge smile on her face. "Let's go talk to Santa," she said, reaching back for your hand. 
But you already had your eyes glued on the pilot who quickly replaced his helmet with a white beard and Saint Nick hat. You couldn't help but watch him, enjoying that distant glimpse of him before he went into full Santa character again. He looked tall and strong as he climbed down the ladder in his bright red flight suit, and you had to look away as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and it felt like he was waving right at the two of you.
"Mommy!"
You knew she wasn't going to be deterred from this mission, so you got to your feet and let her tug you along as you tried to fold the towel one handed. "Sweetheart, Santa and his elves might be too busy to talk to us right now," you warned her as the group of six elves in bright green flight suits started fist bumping Santa Claus. And your steps faltered, because Santa somehow just got more attractive the closer you got.
------------------------
"Who let you be Santa anyway?" Jake asked, tugging on his red and green striped hat with enormous elf ears attached to the sides. "This elf bullshit is a damn disgrace."
"I volunteered to be Santa before the rest of you got a chance. Do I look like I'd make a good elf?" Bradley asked, and Jake rolled his eyes. "No. I do not." He was the tallest one in the group, and luckily he was able to sweet talk Maverick into letting him be the one to don the beard and the red flight suit for today's Miramar for the Holidays event they all volunteered to fly for. 
"Maverick should have mixed things up and made me Santa," Nat said with her chin in the air. 
"But you're the cutest little elf I've ever seen," Bradley told her, earning a smack on the back of his arm from her helmet. "Ow!"
"Wait, are we complaining?" Mickey asked. "I like being an elf. And apparently we get free food and hot cocoa in the volunteers tent."
"Oh, shit. Really?" Reuben asked, craning his neck to look toward the tent in question.
Bradley was about to remind everyone that they were obligated to pose for photos with kids when he heard a voice calling out, "Santa! Hey, Santa!" He turned toward the four foot tall chain link fence as an adorable little girl dragged a grown woman in his direction. 
"Hey guys, we got company," he told the others as he adjusted his white beard and red hat. When he waved toward the child, she squealed in delight, and Bradley couldn't help but laugh. As she and the woman he assumed was her mom approached the fence, Bradley leaned on the top of it. 
"Ho, Ho, Ho! What's your name, Kiddo?" he asked her with a bright smile. But his gaze inadvertently shifted to how gorgeous you looked as you held her hand, and he gave you a wink. He wouldn't mind learning your name, too.
But the little girl was eyeing him skeptically. "Shouldn't you already know my name? My mom said I'm on the nice list!" she exclaimed, gesturing up toward you.
Oh. Shit. "Uh, well, you see..."
Luckily you bailed him out with an apologetic look. "Ellie, don't be rude to Santa. He probably didn't update our names to our new address yet."
"Oh. Yeah," Bradley said, nodding in agreement and smiling. "Of course now I recognize you, Ellie. And your mom, too. Rest assured, you're both on the nice list."
But the girl wasn't convinced. "Why aren't you fatter?"
You brought your hand up to cover your face and groaned as Bradley laughed. "I needed to be able to fit in my jet."
"Why do you have a jet? Where's your sleigh?"
Bradley jerked his thumb toward the others milling around behind him. "My elves and I are trying out our jets this year. Something new."
"What about your reindeer?" she asked, undeterred. You were looking at Bradley and half smiling, half grimacing as you mouthed I'm sorry. But he didn't mind at all. Ellie was keeping him on his toes. 
"Uh... they have the year off, per their union contracts. You certainly have a lot of questions, Ellie."
She nodded up at him with her hands on her hips. "I just want to make sure you're the real Santa. I've seen a lot of impostors at the mall."
Bradley had to stifle his laughter as you said, "I had no idea she was going to be like this. I'm so sorry, Santa."
"It's fine," he reassured you, noting that you weren't wearing any rings before he returned his attention to your daughter. "Okay, Ellie. What's it going to take for you to believe I'm really Santa?"
Her brow scrunched as she contemplated his question, and Bradley used the time to check you out. It was useless, he knew that, since he looked like an idiot in his fake beard at the moment. But damn, you were pretty. And your daughter was like a tiny, inquisitive version of you.
"Well," Ellie said with a little smirk, "you should know how old I am if you're the real Santa."
You quickly held your hand up over her head to help him out, and he counted your fingers. "Of course I know that you're five years old."
Ellie's eyes softened a bit as she said, "That's right! And what's my favorite color?"
This time you juggled the items you were holding and lifted up a set of noise canceling headphones. "That's easy," Bradley replied. "I know you love pink." 
Now Ellie was smiling up at Bradley as she said, "And if you still need to update our new address, then you must know where we moved here from."
Bradley glanced up to see you pretending to shiver and rub your hands along your arms. "You moved here from somewhere cold."
"That's right!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands. "It's you! You're Santa!"
"It's really me," Bradley said, sending her a wink and nodding at you as you bit your lip and grinned. "And don't you worry, I'll have my elves take care of getting your new address straightened out. But first, I need you to prove that you're the real Ellie."
She nodded in excitement. "Ask me anything!"
"What grade are you in?"
"Kindergarten," she said, eyes filled with joy.
"Yep, that's right. Only the real Ellie would know that." You were laughing now, and Bradley loved the way it sounded. "And what's your favorite animal?"
"Pandas!" 
"Mmhmm," he hummed, pretending he was impressed that she was passing this quiz with flying colors. "I'm almost convinced it's really you."
"Seriously," she told him. "Ask me anything, because I'm sure I'm not an impostor."
Bradley glanced up at you and smirked before leaning on the fence again, and then asked Ellie, "Tell me, Kiddo. What's your mom's name?"
She blurted it out immediately, and Bradley committed it to memory. When he looked up at you again, your gaze was focused on the ground, but you looked pleased if not a little sad. He wanted to know why. 
"Would the two of you like to come in here and look at the North Pole jets?" he asked, and Ellie started bouncing up and down immediately. 
"We don't want to waste any more of your time, Santa," you told him with an apologetic look. 
"You wouldn't be," he promised, and when he said your name, you smiled and looked off to the side like you were embarrassed. "Come around the fence. You can meet my elves." He pointed to the gate a ways down where a security guard was standing. Bradley waved to him and gave him a thumbs up which the guard returned. "Santa gets special privileges."
"Fine," you said softly. "We'll just come around and meet you then?"
"Looking forward to it," he replied, and then Ellie was taking off for the fence opening with you right behind her. Bradley turned toward the others and clapped his hands. "Listen up. This little girl, Ellie, thinks I'm really Santa," he informed them. "And she thinks you're all my elves."
"Fuck," Jake groaned. 
"I'm really hungry," Bob whispered. 
"I refuse to be nice to you, even in front of a child," Nat said blandly.
"Whatever," Reuben and Javy said in unison.
"I'm so excited!" Mickey giggled, adjusting his elf ears. 
"Just be nice, okay? Here she comes... with her mom," Bradley said, really enjoying the sight of you headed his way. He cleared his throat and knelt down as Ellie streaked toward him. 
"Can I sit in one of the North Pole jets?" Ellie asked while you shook your head apologetically. 
"Really, feel free to tell her no."
But Bradley just smiled and adjusted his white beard before he scooped the child up and stood. You looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and intrigue as he said, "Sure, Kiddo, if you think you can climb that ladder? It's really tall."
"Yeah, I can do it!" Ellie said, looking past him at his F/A-18 and clapping.
"Sound okay, Mom?" he asked you, and you bit your lip and smiled. 
"Great. While Ellie and I are up there talking about what's on her Christmas list, why don't you give your information to my sweetest and most loyal elf, Phoenix."
Nat rolled her eyes at him so hard before she turned to you with a smile, and Bradley had to walk away before he started laughing too hard to stay in character. 
"Your elf is named Phoenix?" Ellie asked as he carried her toward the ladder. "What are the other ones named?"
Bradley chuckled. "They're all pretty silly sounding," he said as he set her down a few rungs from the bottom. "The big one is Payback. The one who can't stop smiling is Fanboy. The one that's yawning is Coyote. Bob is the one with glasses. And the cranky one is Hangman."
"He looks like he could use a candy cane," she said as she started to climb. 
"I think you're probably right. I should feed all of them more sweets." 
Once they reached the top, he hoisted her over the edge and climbed onto the seat behind her. "Do you want to talk about what's on your Christmas list?"
"Yeah," she said with a sigh as she plopped down on his knee and looked at him with concern. "We didn't bring most of our decorations and stuff when we moved, because there were already too many boxes."
"Oh," Bradley grunted, patting her on the shoulder. Now he was even more curious than before about where the two of you had moved from and why as his gaze met yours where you stood below with Phoenix. "Well you'll need a Christmas tree for your presents to go under."
She nodded and finally smiled when Bradley looked at her again. "The only thing I really want is a pink one!"
He blinked at her a few times. "A pink tree?"
"Yeah!  A pink Christmas tree! And an art set with pink paint."
Bradley nodded, figuring he could probably make that happen. "Sounds monochromatic but fun. Anything else?"
Ellie looked down at you and waved. Your brilliant smile for your daughter was so lovely, Bradley found himself waving too, which made you laugh. "Nothing else for me," Ellie whispered. "But something for my mom."
"Oh yeah?" he grunted when you blew a kiss up to them. Damn. He knew it was for your daughter, but he kind of wanted one of his own. "What do you think Santa should bring for your mom?"
"A boyfriend."
His gaze jerked back to Ellie's, but she looked completely serious. "You want me to get your mom a boyfriend?"
She nodded and said, "One that's tall and will play dolls with me sometimes and eat dinner at our new house. And he has to be really nice. Just like my dad was."
Bradley leaned in a little closer and wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders. "What happened to your dad?"
"He died last year," she said matter-of-factly. "But I'm sure you knew him, because he was definitely on the nice list."s
------------------------------
You watched as your daughter gave the naval aviator she was convinced was Santa Claus a big hug. He actually looked a bit ridiculous in the bright red flight suit and hat with the white beard, but Ellie seemed to have bonded with him in some way. They were laughing together about something she whispered to him, and then he was patting her head. 
"I'll see what I can do for you, okay Ellie?" he told her, and you wondered if his voice really was that deep all the time. 
"Thanks, Santa!" She came trotting over to you and took you by the hand. "I'm ready to go home now," she told you with a smile as the 'elves' waved goodbye. A startled laugh escaped you, because the entire afternoon felt very surreal. You just gave your phone number and your new address to someone named Phoenix who was dressed as an elf even though she was definitely also a naval pilot. And now you were waving to Santa Claus who you were left to assume was named Bradley Bradshaw based on what was painted on the side of his jet. 
"Did you have a fun time with Santa?" you asked as you walked back toward the opening in the gate, chuckling at your own words. 
"Yeah. He's really nice. I could have probably stayed and talked to him all night," she replied, and when you turned back he was still looking at you. The casual wave of his hand made your heart skip a beat. You really wanted this again. That familiarity with another person. The ease. The perpetually happy child next to you.
"Yeah... he seems pretty great."
But you were really annoyed with yourself when you spent nearly a full hour after you got Ellie in bed imagining what his face might look like without the fake beard. It had barely been three months since you stopped wearing your wedding rings. It was just over a year ago that your husband died unexpectedly. You were decidedly not in the market for dating anyone while Ellie was this young, because she deserved all of your attention. So why were you thinking about this Bradley guy and how sweet he was with your daughter?
You collapsed onto your bed and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. You didn't do the wordle yet for today, and you still needed to check the weather for tomorrow. But you got distracted by a text from a number you didn't recognize. 
Hey, it's Bradley Bradshaw. I mean Santa. I hope you don't mind me texting you.
You sat up in your bed so quickly. Your stomach lurched as butterflies took up residence, and your fingers quivered a little bit as you gripped your phone. What were you supposed to do? "Text him back," you muttered to yourself. "Get a grip." 
You looked across the room at your wedding photo on your dresser. It had been in one of the few moving boxes you managed to unpack already, and it made you smile every time you looked at it. Right now was no exception; that was one of the best days of your life. But when you looked back down at your phone, you didn't feel a pang of sadness or regret. You felt intrigued. So you saved Bradley's number and then texted him back.
I don't mind one bit. I'm happy to have the chance to thank you again for earlier. You made Ellie's day! Mine, too!
And then you waited with your phone in your hand, half embarrassed and half excited by the idea of getting another text from him.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Your daughter is a bit of a spitfire. I was very entertained by her. And there's no need to thank me. It was the highlight of my day.
Dealing with your sassy five year old was the highlight of his day? You squealed and had to set your phone down while you walked around your room for a few minutes. The highlight of his day? He was a fighter pilot! He flew a jet around at the air show!
"Oh god," you groaned, crawling back across your bed to your phone. You were already a lost cause. Over a man who had been dressed as Santa Claus? Ridiculous.
But now you were scrambling over what to type back to him. Send him a Santa emoji? No. You were flustered as you sent him the first random thing that came to your mind.
You make a great Santa. You know, in case you ever contemplate a career change.
You looked at the words on your phone screen and cringed. You glanced back at your wedding photo and sighed. If that was your best attempt at flirting, then it was amazing you'd ever been married at all. And this man you met today didn't even seem bothered that you had a kid. That was a miracle in itself. You got ready to toss your phone aside for the night when he sent back a smiling emoji and another text.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: I'll keep that in mind as a potential retirement gig. 
You wanted to tell him he looked pretty good in a fake beard. You wanted to tell him you were curious what he looked like without it. You wanted to keep him talking a little bit longer, because you could feel the adrenaline fueled blood pumping through your body, and it felt exciting. But before you could even say anything else, Bradley had you burying your face in your pillow so you could scream without waking Ellie up.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: But here's the thing. I'm an absolute sucker for cute girls. When can I see the two of you again?
------------------------
Bradley had to wait a little bit for a response from you, and he was sweating. He didn't want to push too hard, especially after Ellie told him her dad died, but he was intrigued. Plus, he was already googling pink Christmas trees. 
Ellie's Mom: Ellie and I are kind of suckers for sweet Santas. What did you have in mind?
He lounged back in his bed with a smile on his face. Was he about to drop five hundred bucks on an eight foot tall pink tree? Hell yes. Especially since you just called him sweet. 
Ellie asked Santa for a pink Christmas tree. I want to order it tonight if you can confirm it will fit in your house. And then I'd love to come by and set it up one day.
You wrote back almost immediately after he sent the link to the tree. 
Ellie's Mom: You don't have to buy that for her! It's so expensive! Honestly, you don't need to buy her anything!
Bradley sighed. The kid thought he was really Santa Claus, so there was no way she wasn't getting a pink tree and a pink art kit. It was the boyfriend request that made him chuckle, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested in the idea of seeing you again. 
But I want to. Any chance you can measure the space for me?
He had to wait a little bit longer again for you to answer, but this time he was rewarded with photos that had him sitting up in bed and staring at his phone. 
Ellie's Mom: I can't find a measuring tape in all these moving boxes, but here's the spot where a tree could go. And here I am for reference.
You were smiling in the selfies, looking a little shy but just as pretty as earlier today, and you had on a shirt that looked so soft, he wanted to touch it. "God damn it," he grunted, already tapping out a response. 
I think Santa should stop by in person and check the measurements, just to be on the safe side. Also, you're gorgeous.
"Oh fuck," groaned after he hit send. He really didn't mean to come on so strong, especially since he just met you. He busied himself with ordering the pink tree that he was sure would fit in that spot along with some colorful ornaments and tried not to count the minutes until you wrote back.
Ellie's Mom: We'll be home on Monday evening. I'm sure Ellie would love another visit from Santa. And so would I.
Bradley wrote back letting you know roughly what time he could stop by, and then he started to formulate a plan. 
On Monday, in the locker room after work, he changed out of his regular flight suit and showered before zipping himself into his bright red one. His measuring tape, beard and Santa hat were already waiting in the Bronco, and he swung by his favorite bakeshop on his way out of Coronado. The place was packed with customers placing orders for Christmas goodies, so he was happy he decided to call ahead. He grabbed the box he already paid for and got back on the road, following his GPS across the city to the outskirts of town.
Your place was a cute town home with a pink Christmas wreath on the door and the windows lit with a warm glow as the sun set. Bradley got his Santa beard and hat situated using his rearview mirror, and then he grabbed the box and the measuring tape and made his way up to the front porch. As soon as he knocked, his heart beat a little faster, and a few seconds later, you were opening the door for him with a smile. 
"Hey, Santa," you said softly with a crooked little smile. Bradley took you in from head to toe, his eyes catching on your lips and your pink sweater as he heard Ellie come bounding down the stairs. 
"Santa!"
He looked past you just in time to see your daughter come streaking toward him wearing a pink dress and launching herself into his arms. He bent and caught her a little awkwardly as he laughed. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she hugged him. 
"Came to make sure you're still on the good list." Bradley grinned up at you where you stood biting your lip. "Well, Mom? Has she been listening and behaving?"
You nodded. "Yes, Santa. She's been very well behaved."
"Excellent," he replied, releasing Ellie and handing her the box which she opened right away.
She gasped and looked up at him. "Pink Christmas cookies?"
"Yeah, I just thought the two of you might like something sweet."
You were looking at him with softly parted lips, and then you said, "Aren't we supposed to be leaving cookies out for you later this month?"
"I wouldn't complain if you did," he replied as Ellie handed you a pink snowflake cookie. He watched you bite into it, and he realized he was staring. 
"Want one?" Ellie asked, tugging on his hand. 
"No, those are for the two of you, Kiddo. I'm really here to measure the room for your pink tree. I want to drop it off before Christmas so there's something for your presents to go under."
Ellie screeched and nearly dropped the cookies all over the floor as you took the box from her. She pulled Bradley into the living room and showed him where she wanted her tree to go, and then she helped him measure the space while she asked him what he wanted for Christmas.
"Does Mrs. Claus get you something every year?" she asked, eyes wide and focused on him. 
He wasn't sure how to answer her as he knelt on the floor with the measuring tape in his hand. So he decided to just be honest. "I actually don't have a Mrs. Claus yet."
When Ellie's eyes drifted from him up to you where you stood a few feet away, Bradley couldn't help but follow suit. "Mommy," she whispered. "We need to get something for Santa."
"Okay," you whispered back, barely glancing at Bradley before looking back at your daughter. "We can do that."
Ellie turned back to him and asked, "If I leave a present under the tree on Christmas Eve, will you know it's for you when you get here?"
"Of course. Just write my name on it so I know it's mine." Then she kissed him on his cheek right above his white beard, and Bradley melted a little bit inside. 
--------------------------
You and your daughter waved from your front door as Santa left with his tape measure and one of the pink cookies. Ellie insisted he take the one that was decorated like a reindeer with him, and you watched as he ate it while he started up his vintage blue Bronco. When he honked and waved goodbye, Ellie jumped up and down. 
"Santa's bringing me a pink tree!" she gushed, and honestly, you were feeling a little silly over that man, too. Your skin tingled as you closed the door and looked at the rest of the cookies. You felt like he was spoiling the two of you even though you barely knew him. 
"Let's go get ready for bed," you whispered, ushering her toward the stairs before you took the cookies to your kitchen to have a moment to yourself. Last Christmas had been a nightmare as it was just a few weeks after you lost your husband, and now you'd moved to San Diego to have a fresh start with a new job and a new school and a new city. You couldn't handle another holiday in the house that the three of you had shared. 
California was warm and welcoming, but the last thing you had expected to find here right away was a man that made your heart skip a beat. You knew your husband wouldn't want you to give up the idea of dating someone else, but you'd convinced yourself that nobody would want the two of you even though Ellie was a sweet kid. 
You set the pretty cookies down on the counter and sighed. Bradley didn't seem to mind that Ellie was around. If anything, he seemed to really like her. He was buying her a tree even though you told him he didn't have to do that. You were more than capable of getting one, but he wasn't going to be deterred. 
And Ellie definitely liked him, helped in part by the fact that she seemed completely convinced he was actually Santa. 
"You don't even really know what his face looks like," you groaned as you closed the box and headed upstairs. It didn't even matter though, because you could still tell he was handsome with the kind of brown eyes you just wanted to keep looking at. But how embarrassing were you? Crushing on him like this.
After you got Ellie in bed, you texted Bradley to say thank you, and he wrote back immediately. 
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: It was my pleasure.
You imagined him saying those words in his deep voice in person, and you were still thinking about him the next morning when you woke up. You picked up your framed wedding photo and sighed in exasperation. "He reminds me a bit of you, honestly," you told your deceased husband who smiled back from the frame. "He's funny and kind of sweet. Maybe I just miss you. I don't know."
But you found yourself unable to get much work done from your home office while Ellie was at school. You kept sneaking down to the kitchen to get pink cookies, and by late afternoon, you caved like a house of cards and texted Bradley.
I can't stop thinking about what you might look like without your Santa beard and hat.
You set your phone down on your desk and stared at it. What were you, fucking insane or something? You must be. After twenty minutes with no response, you grabbed a sweatshirt and went for a walk around the block without your phone. You had forgotten how to flirt. That had to be what was going on here. You no longer knew how to be normal or subtle in any way, because it had been so long since you needed to be. When you moved to San Diego to start over again, you must have forgotten to pack your ability to act chill in front of men you were attracted to. 
You stood on your front porch and took a deep breath before heading back inside. You needed to stop this. After Bradley came back with the pink tree for Ellie, he wasn't going to want to keep hanging out anyway. It was better to just stop this thing in its tracks right now. You ran back upstairs to your desk and grabbed your phone. He probably hadn't responded yet, which was great, because you could text him again and tell him you were just joking.
"Haha," you muttered as you sat down. "Just kidding, Santa."
But he had already replied. Oh. And he sent a selfie. Oh my. "Oh my god." He was even hotter than you imagined. He had a mustache. A real one, not the white one. He wasn't wearing the red hat either, and as a result, you got to see how soft his light brown curls looked. And he was smiling, his lips and his eyes already familiar to you. Then you made a small, strangled sound as you read the accompanying text.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: Greetings from North Island... I mean, the North Pole. And by the way, I can't stop thinking about you either.
You literally melted out of your chair and onto the spare bedroom floor. You thought about reaching for your computer to put up your out of office message, but you couldn't stop looking at the photo long enough to focus on anything else. You were laying on your back looking at your phone, and you nearly dropped it on your face when he wrote back again.
Bradley 'Santa' Bradshaw: The tree should arrive on Thursday. I was thinking I could take a half day at work and come over to set it up on Friday afternoon while Ellie is at school? Then I could see you again, too...
You rolled onto your front and started typing. Of course you wanted him to come back on Friday. You hit send before you realized that you'd be here alone with him. You'd have no five year old to buffer yourself from almost certain embarrassment.
-------------------------
Everyone else was picking out poinsettias or red and green blooms, but when Bradley got to the florist, he asked for a big bouquet of pink flowers as well as a smaller one. Just pink flowers. Nothing else. He paid and left with both of them in one hand and ran back across the street to his Bronco. 
He was running late. He told you he'd be there around one o'clock, but it was already half past. Of course he needed to shower before he left work at noon, since he smelled like jet fuel, and then he had to stop back at home and load the tree and everything else into the Bronco before he could head to your place. 
The last thing he wanted was for you to think he didn't want to spend as much time with you and Ellie as possible right now. Frankly he was looking forward to spending a little time alone with you, even if it was just while he was putting the tree up. When he finally made it across town, he checked the time and winced before running up the sidewalk and knocking. And if he was already a little bit out of breath, it only got worse when you opened the door and smiled at him. 
"Sorry I'm late," he said. "I realized on my way here that I must have been overzealous when I told you I would be here by one."
You grinned and shrugged. "It's okay. Come on in." You closed the door behind him and asked, "Are those for Ellie?" You were gesturing at the flowers he forgot he was holding. 
"Oh," he said, pulling the bouquets apart. "One's for you." Your eyes went wide as he held the bigger bunch out, and your fingers brushed his when you took it. "The little one's for Ellie."
You were looking up at him in surprise and your voice was soft as you said, "Thank you." 
"Yeah, well, I didn't know what your favorite color was, so I went all in on the pink."
You were grinning again as you buried your nose in one of the fuchsia colored roses. "It's pink. Good job, Santa."
Bradley laughed. "I should have known. The two of you have me seeing pink everywhere now."
"I'm not sorry about that," you said, reaching for the other bouquet. "I'll put these in the kitchen."
He handed it over and said, "And I'll bring the tree inside." He watched you turn away from him, and he kept his eyes on you until you were almost out of sight which resulted in you turning around and catching him staring. He didn't mind. 
Bradley made two trips inside with the tree and all of the lights and ornaments, but you must have still been in the kitchen. Or maybe you went upstairs or something. He'd been hoping you wanted to hang out a little bit and chat, but he already had the enormous tree box open with pink branches spilling out of it when you returned with two mugs. 
"I made you some hot chocolate." 
Nobody had made him a mug of hot chocolate since he was a kid himself. "You did?"
"Yeah. But if you don't want it, that's fine." You looked a little shy now, so he stood and reached for the pink mug you were offering to him. 
"I love hot chocolate. I just don't drink it much now that I live where it's usually warm."
"Where are you from?" you asked before you pursed your pretty lips and blew on your drink.
Bradley smirked. "Would I be remiss if I told you I'm actually from Virginia and not the North Pole?"
Your bright laughter had him taking a step closer to you. "Not at all. Just don't tell Ellie that. She's already working on a Christmas present for you. I mean for Santa."
"Is she really?" he asked, suddenly unable to stop smiling. When you nodded, he asked, "What is it?
"I can't tell you! That would ruin the surprise."
"Yeah... don't tell me. I wouldn't want to disappoint her." Bradley took a sip before setting his mug down on a coaster and kneeling in front of the tree box. 
You cleared your throat as he started pulling branches out. "How long have you been living in San Diego?"
"About six years. I finally got a permanent station at North Island after moving around. A lot." He lined all of the pieces up on the floor as you took a few steps closer. 
"How old are you?" you asked him. When he glanced up, you added, "If you don't mind me asking."
He smiled. "I don't mind you asking me anything you want to ask me. I'm thirty seven."
"How are you possibly single?" you blurted out before hiding your mug in front of your mouth. "I'm sorry." You paced back and forth across the living room a few times as you said, "I'm so bad at this. Like epically bad at it. Because I haven't had to do it in so long."
"Do what?" he asked, trying not to laugh as you came to a stop right in front of him. 
You made a cute little sound before you whispered, "I have forgotten how to even attempt to flirt with a man."
He had to press his lips together to hold his laughter in. You were actually serious right now. "I thought you were doing alright."
"You did?" you asked, gaping up at him. 
"Yeah. I mean, you sent me those cute selfies when you didn't have a measuring tape."
You licked your lips and took a step away from him. "No one has called me cute since my husband died."
Bradley could feel his lungs deflating. He hated that you had to live through that. He was also selfishly a little afraid you were going to tell him you weren't looking to date again. This was really the only reason he hadn't asked you out already. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was currently convinced he was Santa Claus. 
But he thought he should try his luck. "Someone should be calling you cute every day. You and Ellie both. Like I said, I'm a complete sucker for cute girls."
You looked a little flustered now as you sipped your hot chocolate, so Bradley returned to his mission of putting the massive tree together in the corner of your living room. When he paused to drink from his own mug, you came over to help him. Wordlessly, the two of you assembled it until it was too tall for you to reach. 
When you handed the top part of the tree to him, he whispered, "Thanks." Your hand seemed to linger on his. Or maybe he imagined it. 
"It's nice having someone so tall around," you said. "You must have no problems putting your own tree up."
"Nah," he said, sliding the last piece into place. "I don't even put one up at home. Seems like a waste when it's just for me."
"You don't have a tree?" you asked, and your hand came to rest on his forearm. Bradley's eyes snapped to yours as you said, "If you can continue to handle all the pink... maybe you'd want to come back over and enjoy this one with us?"
"As Santa?" he asked. "I really got myself into a mess with Ellie, didn't I?"
You bit your lip as you looked up at him. "Yeah... she's kind of attached to Santa now."
Bradley was fighting the urge to just kiss you, because you were right there. And you probably tasted like hot chocolate. And the closer you got, the prettier you looked. 
"Should we add the lights?" you asked softly, your hand still on his left arm. "Before Ellie gets home?"
Very slowly, he raised his right hand so there would be no doubt in your mind what was coming. He traced your cheek with his fingertips as your eyes fluttered closed. "Yeah. Let's do the lights and the decorations before she gets back. I didn't bring my beard and my hat today."
"Okay," you breathed, leaning into his touch for a beat before you released his arm and pulled away. "I'll... get the lights ready." You turned and started to open some of the boxes of white twinkle lights while Bradley got the ornaments opened up.
He took out the pink and silver star, and when he reached up toward the top branches, you wrapped the lights around him and the tree at the same time. "If you want to keep me here with you, just say so. You don't need to tie me up."
You laughed. "I couldn't keep you even if I wanted to. You're Santa Claus, remember? You have a million toys to deliver next week."
Bradley caught you gently by the arm as you looped the lights around his back again. "To be crystal clear, I'm only doing this for you and Ellie. Nobody else."
You wrapped the lights a little tighter and said, "To be crystal clear, I like the way that sounds."
Bradley smirked as you finally loosened the strand and freed him. "Listen," he said as he followed you slowly around the tree as you put the lights on correctly this time. "Santa doesn't have time to play games before Christmas. He's very busy."
"Really?" you asked, looking back at him as you strung the lights higher and higher on the pink tree. "This kind of feels like a game to me, Santa."
He took over with the strand once it got too high for you to reach, and when he was done, he watched you pick up one of the boxes of ornaments. There were a bunch of pink and blue hearts and stars, and you smiled up at him. So he decided to go for it. Because he knew this was a rare opportunity he'd been given. "Santa is actually pretty serious right now. About you."
When you immediately returned your gaze to the box in your hands, Bradley ran his hands through his hair. You looked a little flustered again, just like you had when you claimed you forgot how to flirt. Whatever you were doing to him, he liked it. He liked how it felt to be around you and Ellie, too. He ducked behind the tree to plug the lights in, illuminating everything in a soft, pink glow, and then he tried to find the energy to help you finish the tree without pushing this any further.
"Hey, Santa?"
"Yeah?" he replied, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached for an ornament from the box you were holding. 
You seemed to weigh your words before you said them which had Bradley's heart beating a little faster before you even spoke. "I wasn't planning on anything serious. Not really ever again."
"Oh." Serious was the kind of thing he was looking for now. Serious was actually what he wanted. He hung the pretty blue heart shaped ornament and then let his hand fall to his side. His heart felt heavy like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake as you reached up in front of his face to hang a pink and white heart next to his blue one.
"At least that's what I thought before we moved here," you added.
He looked at you with one raised eyebrow. "Something changed your mind?"
"More like someone," you whispered, handing him another pink heart ornament which he carefully hung just above the other two. He wanted to know for sure if he was the one that changed your mind, but you pulled your phone out of your pocket and gasped. 
"Ellie's bus should be here in a couple minutes."
"Right," he said softly. You and he finished decorating the tree, not so subtly stealing glances at each other the whole time. If there was even a chance with you, he wanted to take it, but he didn't want to press any harder today. 
When he reached for his empty mug, you shook your head and said, "You can leave it. I'll clean up later."
"Okay." With nothing else keeping him at your house he started to head for the front door, but you caught his hand in yours. 
"Wait." Your eyes were wide and a little hesitant, but when you tugged gently, he went willingly, slowly closing the distance between you body and his. "Thank you. For the tree and the ornaments. And the cookies. And the flowers."
He shook his head. "It's my pleasure. You don't have to thank me again."
"But I want to," you whispered, running your thumb along the back of his hand. "I want to do a lot of things. But they feel a little scary." When you paused, he didn't rush you. Your eyes were taking in every detail of his face, and you were smiling softly. "Things I haven't done in a long time. Things I never anticipated I'd be doing again. At least not while Ellie is so young."
Bradley opened his mouth, intending to tell you he could wait a few weeks or months to ask you out if that would make things easier for you, but you tugged gently on his hand again, rendering him silent. When your other hand came to rest on his chest, he held his breath. Your gaze stayed locked on your hand as you slowly guided it up along his shoulder and collarbone until it came to rest gently on the scars on the side of his neck. 
The soft stroke of your thumb and even the gentle flex of your fingers could have brought him to his knees. And then you finally met his eyes. "I really want to," you murmured as you stood on tiptoes, your chest brushing his. Bradley's brain took a beat longer to respond than his heart did, but when you tilted your face up to his and let your eyes flutter shut, he closed the distance to your lips with his. 
And it was perfect. The softest kiss of his life, but he could feel his entire body responding to you. With a soft gasp, you released his lips, but you didn't go far. When you met his eyes, you must have liked what you saw there, because you kissed him again. And again. And when Bradley guided your other hand around his neck, you kissed him a little deeper. 
"Oh," you gasped, running your nose along his cheek as your fingers teased the back of his neck. When your lips met his again, he held you close with his hands on your lower back, and Bradley decided he could do this forever. All of it. The pink flowers and decorating the tree and the perfect kisses. 
Then the front door knob rattled, and you broke away from his lips. Your eyes looked hazy at first, and you had the prettiest smile on your face before you pulled yourself out of his grasp as Ellie came inside. Your daughter looked back and forth between the two of you as you pressed your fingertips to your lips, and Bradley winced as Ellie asked him, "Who are you?"
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Bradley! I mean, Santa! Where is your beard?! I hope you loved part one! Part two is coming soon. This one took a village so thank you to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @cherrycola27
PART 2
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millersfinest · 23 days ago
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the thing in your chest that beats ² | e.w
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santa barbara!ellie williams & ex-firefly!reader
wc: 4.5k
mini-series: california | oregon (you’re here) | idaho | wyoming
blurb: you put up a good fight with those rattlers, but it wasn’t good enough—all it got you was strung up near a beach where the sun scorched you dry. abruptly, their set-up gets fucked by their own prisoners, saving your life by only a thread. but the wrath that lingered under your skin was immense, and you’re not the only one to experience that phenomenon. when another damaged soul encounters your brittle state; the dreams that put you in a tough position manifest into reality. along with a few extra miscellaneous things…
cw: angry!r, slow-burn romance, eventual smut, proximity trope, both reader and ellie on a path of redemption, afab body parts mentioned, vulgar language, reader being complicated, mentions of attraction, inner guilt, use of ‘y/n’ and ‘woman’.
note: honestly i just can’t wait for them to kiss (spoiler: not this chapter). but they’re learning to trust each other. just know in the idaho ch we’re gonna be UP! please, enjoy this for now!! (also: i hope the lot of you voted for the presidential election. these are very very important times #harriswaltz2024)
Oregon
Several days and nights were spent on a boat, cruising up the coast of California. It was one of those livable boats, where you could hide from the sun in a room with stable furniture to eat on, and a bed to sleep on. You spent a lot of your time inside the hatch, analyzing a map that Ellie had labeled with a marker. Hoping that you’d maintain your luck enough to actually see Wyoming for yourself.
Ellie had confessed that she came from Jackson, but she still hadn’t told you the why. Instead of asking about it, you refrained, in turn, asking about the settlement. Were the people kind? Did they have horses? Because you heard they had horses.
Those were the questions she could answer easily, with little to no hesitation. Until your questioning began to irritate her—which, in turn, irritated you.
The two of you bickered over the smallest of things in those days on the water. It could’ve been the heat, or the rationed food, or even your similar personalities. You couldn’t help but clash every chance you got. By the time the two of you drifted onto the coastline of Oregon, the conversations had diminished—because of your stubborn attitudes.
Leaving behind the boat was a drag, but there’s wasn’t much of a choice. The rest of the journey toward Wyoming was going to be on foot. Over cracked pavements and between dewey trees. If only the trip could be simplified by the use of a boat—it would be less extraneous.
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The weather had gotten significantly cooler the more north you traveled. The mornings were the coolest, and the days were chilled with a gentle breeze. It would rain eighty percent of the time, which made it harder for you and Ellie to continue the trek. But both of you were resilient.
Somewhere between Salem and Portland, you found yourselves looking for a place to stay for the night. You had run across some nefarious people when you first arrived at the coast; and you’ve been recovering ever since. Trying to collect as many things as possible on the road to make up for the lost ammo and supplies. Which is what led to you looking for a place to crash in, basically, pitch black darkness. Navigating the dewey wood with nothing but the lights attached to your bags.
Droplets of water slipped off the waxy green leaves of the trees above. Splashing onto you—and it was shocking every time. The climate sent a gentle chill up your spine, so the water was even colder. Ellie walked ahead of you, mumbling under her breath from the lack of shelter. Her agitation was ruminating off her skin like a furnace. “We should’ve never gone this way— there’s nothing out here!”
Her agitation was obviously laced with panic. Ellie was exhausted from all the traveling and worries about conflict. “We entered a campsite a few miles back. At the very least there should be a cabin out here.” You surmised, squinting your eyes trying to defy the darkness. The auburn-haired woman scoffed under her breath, adjusting the hood of her raincoat. “If you wanna take a break, just say that.” You reached for her wrist, pulling gently. “It’s been a long day…”
“Absolutely not. We need a place to sleep tonight— with a roof.” Ellie pulled her arm away, placing her hands onto her hips. Her head hung low, clearly fatigued.
“How about this: you park it by this tree for a little bit, while I walk around to see if I can find somethin’ for us.” You offer, shrugging your shoulders, casually. The both of you were exhausted, but it seemed that Ellie was suffering a bit more than you were. Was that not that point of a team? To tap in someone else when you need it. Plus, you really felt that there was a cabin nearby. There had to be one. Most campsites had cabins that hikers and campers would go to before they began their adventures. For supplies or even important notices about wild animals.
Or, maybe, you watched too much tv at the firefly base.
She shook her head. “No chance. Separating in the dark doesn’t sound like a good idea to me. What? So, you can get lost and give us another problem to deal with?”
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you press your lips into an irritated line. “Are you seriously insulting my intelligence, right now?” You raised an eyebrow, glaring at the woman in front of you. “I was a firefly for six years of my life—“
“Oh, my God! The whole world knows that you were a fucking firefly, y/n. No need for the reminder.”
Ellie began to walk in another direction, sternly. You scoffed, following after her like confused duckling—which was an embarrassing thought. “You’re so insufferable. All I was trying to do was help you out— because to be honest, you’re not handling this well.” You quip, walking by her side with your hands shoved into your pockets.
She scoffed. “How could I handle this well? Please, tell me.” Stopping in her tracks, she glares at you. Olive irises blown out from the darkness around her, boring into your aggressive frame.
Taking a step closer to her, the corners of your lips curled, mischievously. “You could start by taking a fucking break and letting me take the lead.” There was something that differed between you and Ellie’s versions of frustration and anger. She took it up a level, while you brought it down. It could fool an idiot into thinking you weren’t mad at all, when really you were fuming. The pace of your voice was slow, almost menacing. True fire remained behind your eyes, in your posture—the way your lip twitched as you spoke.
“I’m not some damsel in distress you pull everywhere then blame when shit goes wrong.” You added, taking in her battered features. The scar in her eyebrow and her top lip. The freckles under her peeling skin from the days aboard. “I have a great sense of direction; I’ll have you know.” As you spoke, she examined your features the same way you did. “Stop arguing with me, sit your ass down, drink some water— and i’ll be back in twenty minutes tops!”
Ellie rolled her tongue in her mouth, averting her eyes from you. She was too stubborn to admit her own exhaustion to you—she’d rather be in control of the situation than someone she barely knew. Someone, who at the start of this trip, was, in fact, a damsel in distress. Your body had healed in the days since departing Santa Barbara. Not completely, but in progress. You were walking better, even though you still had a bit of a limp.
Her focus on you made it easy to forget her own ailments. The missing fingers on her left hand, the wound on her abdomen. They were healing, surprisingly. However, her attention still remained on your well-being.
She sighed, itching her nose with her index finger. “Fine. Whatever.” Ellie shrugged her backpack off, leaning against the tree. “Just come back in one piece, yeah?” Somehow, she managed to sound insulting with her hidden words of weariness.
You snickered, narrowing your eyes. “Is that worry I’m sensing or…?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
With that, you backed toward the path, chuckling under your breath. Adjusting the hood over your head, you focused to begin looking for the cabin that you just knew was close by. Feet crunching over dead leaves and sticks that were imbedded in the mud.
The light attached to the strap of your bag began to flicker as you pushed between the trees. “Come on…” You hit the light to stabilize it. “Now is not the time.”
When you’re lost in the darkness, look for the light.
Your past affiliations haunted you like a ghost. Somehow, you always found yourself looking for that light. Perhaps, in this case, it’s Jackson, Wyoming—a place far from what you know. That was more of a long-term goal, though. The light you were currently looking for was a building made of wood, preferably insulated.
Ahead of you, you weren’t sure if you were seeing things, but what you were hoping for was coming into view. The brightness of the moon illuminating the starry sky outlined the top of the cabin, exposing its silhouette. In excitement, you rushed toward the building, peaking through the foggy windows. From what you could see, there was nothing inside but old furniture. Thankfully, no infected. You were beat; the last thing you wanted to do was fight that damn virus.
As you peeked through every window you could find, jiggling door handles to try and find a way in, you realized it was a home. Not some hiking administration building you surmised would be around the trail. Spending enough time circling the cabin, you pick up a rock from the ground to crack a window. You were getting in that house one way or another.
The rectangular shape was rather high for your reach. Huffing, you dug your fingers into the divots of the logs. It wasn’t the best grip, but it was enough to get you into that window. After throwing your body through the hole, you landed on the ground with a thud. A shallow pain throbbed in your thigh—the one that Ellie had stitched for you back in Santa Barbara. Shutting your eyes, you took in a breath from the slight pain. You weren’t one hundred percent just yet.
Exhaling, you stood tall on your feet to get a look at the interior. A long plaid couch was placed in front of what used to be a fireplace. Burned logs was still lying in the pit, but they burned to a crisp. You were certain that if you touched them, they would fall apart under the weight of your hand. The dirt shapes on the walls symbolized that picture use to fill this space—the cabin was drained of life.
It’s only source of existence was the fact that you were standing in it.
Before leaving to retrieve Ellie, you jogged up the steep stairs of the cabin. To check the upstairs rooms for any infected or people. You must’ve been one lucky woman, because there was nothing but dust occupying those rooms. Quickly, you went through the front door to grab your partner.
Crunching on leaves and sticks, you startled her. Ellie was spotted sat in front of the tree, leaning her back with her eyes closed—which was the least smart thing to do, but she was tired. The sound of your boots crushing the elements of the forest jolted her from her light sleep. She gripped her switchblade in a fist, looking at you with determination. “Fuck,” She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. “I thought you were someone else…”
“Nope. Just me.” You breathed, watching her as she stood to her feet. “There’s a cabin about ten minutes from this spot.” Crossing your arms, a slight smile rested on your lips. A smile screaming I-told-you-so.
Ellie slung her bag around her shoulders, dusting off her jeans; doing everything to ignore your antics. “Are we just gonna stand here, or are you gonna show me where it’s at?”
Sucking your teeth, you pivoted, rolling your eyes. She was such a sore loser. It felt good to be right, and for her to be wrong. You didn’t get lost like she thought—instead, you carried out exactly what you planned: finding shelter for the night.
The two of you approached the cabin, Ellie releasing a sigh of relief. Hallow sounds of your shoes walking up the steps of the wooden porch sounded. You opened the door, allowing her to walk through. Staring her down with same smile you had a few minutes ago. “Nice place, huh?” You asked, shutting the door behind you, turning the lock.
She meandered inside, surveying the interior. Her fingers slide along the dusty bannister above the fireplace, pursing her lips. “Not bad…” Ellie lifted an eyebrow, peering over her shoulder at you. Lifting her finger, she eyed the dust that stuck to her skin.
“Told you there was a cabin around here somewhere.”
“I knew you were gonna say that.” Ellie chuckled, dryly. Taking moderate steps toward the kitchen. Every time you stopped, she insisted that inventory was taken of all of your supplies. She achingly tugged her backpack off, sighing. You followed behind her, leaning your arms against the counter—watching her tired movements.
“Why are you looking at me?” She dropped her hands onto the counter, with that familiar irritated glint in her eyes.
You purse your lips. “You know I could do this, right?” Shrugging off your bag, you swing it onto the counter. There was a slight sway to Ellie—the only reason being her exhaustion. “We’ve done this a number of times; you can go rest up. There are three bedrooms upstairs— take your pick.”
Ellie scoffed, continuing the work in front of her. Counting under her breath. You grit your jaw, glaring at her. She was truly insufferable—moments like these really highlighted that. Her stubbornness and pride amounted about the same to yours; causing you to wonder… Were you just as bad? You pity the friends you had in your youth if that was the case. Releasing a meditative breath, you placed a hand over hers. “Seriously, Ellie, I got it. Go get some sleep.”
She looks at you through her eyelashes, allowing your skin to remain on hers. “Aren’t you tired, too?”
“Yeah, but not as much as you… I could stand to be up for a little while longer. You on the other hand…”
She pulled her hand from under yours, pushing off her wet hood. Her auburn strands were damp, sticking to her freckled skin. “All right. Make sure to write down the things we don’t have that we need.”
“I know.”
“And mark the items that we’re running low on.”
“Again, I know.” You motion with her hand to run along with amused eyes. Waiting to begin, you watch as she hesitantly walks toward the steep wooden stairs around the corner.
It was like pulling teeth for Ellie to willingly hand over responsibility to you. In her mind, she was still doing you a favor—she was working for you. But being that she was extremely tired, her inhibitions loosened. The touch of your skin to hers, surprisingly, comforted her concerns; made her sleepier. She heavily stepped up the stairs, leaning on the railing for support.
She walked into the first bedroom she saw. The light from the moon cascaded through the window that the queen-sized bed was pushed against. Shedding her damp clothing, she spread them out onto a dresser before getting into the bed. Before nodding off, she peered out the window with a burdened mind. Remembering the bulk of her actions leading up to Santa Barbara. With the added misfortune of Santa Barbara. Then… You.
The moon reflected over a sparkling pier, that was down a hill behind the cabin. The lake was completely in her view, rippling subtly from the fish beneath the surface. She cracked a smile, peering at the beautiful sight. Rolling up a pillow, she propped it up enough to let that be the final thing she sees before sleeping. Using the elements of the earth as a night cap.
She’d woken up many times throughout the night, but she was used to that habit. When the sun peaked through her window, Ellie had gotten as much sleep as she could have. The smell of cooked fish had wafted into her nostrils, pulling her from the old mattress. With a groan, she swung her legs over, rubbing her eyes.
In a blur, from the corner of her eyes, she saw a figure walking toward the pier. Blinking, she leaned on the pillows against the window, watching as the figure began to remove their clothes—it was you. Ellie watched as you dropped your items, carelessly, before jumping into the water. For the first time in awhile, her mind went blank. Completely empty.
Well… Not that empty.
She checked the clothes she had on from the night before, and for some reason, they still were damp. Enough moisture resided in her jeans that she didn’t feel comfortable putting them back on. Sighing, she began searching through the drawers for anything she could put on in the meantime.
Finding a pair of plaid pajama pants, she slid those on, throwing her holed band t-shirt over her sports bra. “What time is it?” She patted her jeans for the watch she carried with her. Cursing under her breath, she realized it was left in her backpack.
Quickly, Ellie found herself navigating to the first floor. Her eyes widened at the organized sight of all of your supplies. You had grouped similar items together and left a piece of paper with the amounts in each group. At the bottom of the page, you had written a list of the items you needed more of. Ellie’s watch was sitting on the end of the counter, properly placed. “You have outdone yourself…” She muttered, picking up the paper you scribbled on.
When she flipped it over, the subtle grin her lips faded. Seeing the sorrowful words written on the page. Since leaving Santa Barbara, she noticed you pulling out this letter a lot. The one you fetched from under that infected woman. You had never gone into what this letter or note meant to you—probably, because she never asked. That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious about it, though. Ellie never would’ve expected that you’d write on it over something as silly as taking inventory.
There were so many things she didn’t understand about you.
The aroma of fish filled her nostrils again, leading her to slab of rock placed on the counter. A coverage of cloth was placed over the fish to ward off flies. She peeked under it, seeing a perfectly scaled and grilled fish. Hunger got the best of her, and she began to eat the fish with her hands. Humming at the satisfaction of filling her stomach.
After, she grabbed the cracked watch to check the time. It was ten in the morning, the both of you should’ve been back on the road.
Pressing her lips into a line, she walked out the back door to alert you. Her fingers fiddling with the plaid cotton on her legs.
The air was fairly cool, but the sun warmed you up. Basking in the lake was like splashing your face with cold water in the morning—it was a wake-up call. Something that you needed after the night you had. In the room across from Ellie’s, the bed was too firm, and the sheets were too prickly. Your mind kept you up with the image of Honey’s infected body. And, whenever you did shut your eyes, you were back on those pillars again.
You had no choice but to get up early and occupy yourself. So, you fished for a little while, then cooked what you caught—for yourself and the sleeping woman upstairs. After that, you thought you could use a bath. And there was nothing more satisfying than cool lake water—nature’s finest.
You allowed the water to engulf you, embracing your body like a chilled hug. Breaking the surface, you swam comfortable laps around the lake. As you lazily backstroked, you noticed Ellie walking down the steps that led to the dock.
Her auburn hair was spiked all across her head—she must’ve slept well. You chuckled, swimming up the edge of the dock. Placing your hands against it, to pull yourself up a little. Bare shoulders glistening from the sunlight reflecting off your wet skin. “You have a bad case of bedhead, my friend.”
“What?” She immediately became self-conscious, running her hands through her hair. Shaking her head, she adjusted her features, trying to uphold her naturally irritated persona; scrunching her eyebrows and clenching her jaw. “You let me sleep too late; it’s ten. We should start packing up.” Her eyes avoided you, instead, focusing on the plants surrounding the lake. Or your pruned fingers holding onto the dock.
Looking up at her with squinted eyes, you dramatically sniffed. “Why don’t you hop in? You smell like shit.” You ignored her small jabs of blame, coating your lips with a smile. Perhaps, you’ve been spending too much time with her, but her little irritations were beginning to amuse you more than bother you. Or, from the angle that you were peering up at her, she looked really… Pretty. Bedhead and all.
“Excuse me?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows, finally meeting your eyes.
“I’m serious. Let’s resume the trip smelling better than a sewer.” You began to paddle backwards, almost forgetting about your own nakedness. “Take off your clothes… I‘ll give you privacy. Unless you’re too… Chicken.”
She hesitated, watching you swim backwards. Catching an accidental glimpse of your breasts as you turned around. It was true that she didn’t smell the greatest. Before she could formulate her thoughts properly, Ellie spoke. “Chicken? Really, y/n?” She sighed, punching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But not for long— I wanna make it to Idaho within the next two days…”
Ellie shed her clothes, dropping them close to yours. She jumped into the water, keeping her head from going under, loudly reacting to the coldness of the lake. “Shit!” She exclaimed, treading water.
You turned around, chuckling, noticing her hair still disheveled. “You’ll feel better if you dunk yourself under water.”
“Hell, no! It’s too cold.”
“This doesn’t have to be another I-told-you-so moment…”
She rolled her eyes, clenching her nostrils with her fingers, lowering herself under water. Allowing the cold, earthy, lake water to encapsulate her. The first few seconds were chilling, but her body began to adapt. It became rather comforting—easing her sore muscles and healing wounds.
The lake did the same for you, which was why you were still inside of it. Time stopped at the pier; at least it felt like it did. Existing felt normal, for once. There weren’t any violent rogue people, or hungry infected. Just you and Ellie bathing in a lake.
Ellie broke the surface, running her hands over her saturated strands. Her pale skin was flushed, from what you could only assume, was the briskness in the air and the chillness of water. However, that may not have completely been the case. “Feel better?” You ask, waving your arms under the water to keep yourself afloat.
The corners of her lips curled, subtly. You had to squint to really notice her amusement. She rolled her eyes in a way to avert her gaze. “Yeah, a little.” Ellie finally peered at you, pointing a dripping finger. “Don’t say it.”
“Say what?” A grin plastered on your lips. “I told you so?”
“Do you realize how annoying you are, or just me?”
You pursed your lips, feigning thought. “Just you, I think.”
Honestly, you’re proud of yourself. A lot of the relationship blossoming between your traveling partner and yourself had been developing under the pressure of your attitudes and circumstances. The fact that you could get her to crack a smile, even if it was faint, felt good. It was either the dock’s magic, or your own.
A beat passed while the two of you circled each other. Barely looking at the exposed skin above the water, trying to be distracted by the world around you.
Surprisingly, Ellie was the first to speak—or the first to question you. She rarely every asked you anything. “That letter you carry with you…” The woman awkwardly began. “I saw it on the counter— who wrote it?”
Her voice grabbed your attention immediately at the mention of the note. You held onto it like a totem, a piece of memorabilia from your past. Hesitating, you moved your eyes from left to right in thought. “I know that it came from Santa Barbara. From that house…”
“It’s from an old friend.” You started, lips parting slowly as you spoke. Mouth going dry at the question she asked. You’ve yet to physically get the chance to talk about Honey. From the days aboard the boat, you’ve been trying to forget what you saw. Maybe, you could convince yourself that she was off living the life she wanted—instead of spending her last days suffering under the hammer of infection. “Some girl I met at that God-forsaken resort…” You attempted to casually respond.
“She got infected?”
“Yeah…” You nodded with avoidance, shutting your eyes and moving your head with a cadence of I-don’t-wanna-talk-about-it.
Ellie pursed her lips, nodding. “Why’d you write on the letter? I don’t know… It looks like it means a lot to you— I don’t understand why you would write on it?” She spoke, thoughtfully, as if she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. That was certainly the first time.
You shrug, wanting to hide somewhere, even though there was nowhere to do so. “I just want to forget about it… I guess.”
“If you cared about her, why would you wanna forget about it?”
The muscles in your forehead twitched, bunching your eyebrows together. Your face burned, lips scowling. Ellie’s voice evolved from a soft curiosity, to a judgmental version of it. You sensed the difference the moment it fell from her lips. The intention of her words didn’t matter—it was what she said that bothered you. Did she think you were cruel for wanting to forget about seeing her in that state?
“If I cared about her?” You started, evenly, but with warning. “I did care about her— I do care about her! If I choose not to remember her as a fucking corpse, that makes me a bad person?” Your voice raised, for the first time in awhile, rasping.
Ellie sighed, shaking her head with pleading eyes. “I didn’t say that.”
You scoff, swimming toward the dock. “Well, I’m sure that’s what you meant, right?” Pulling yourself out of the water, you don’t think twice about the exposing of your naked body. Cold air pricking at your wet skin. “I’m the asshole for wanting to remember Honey alive rather than dead…” You wrapped the towel you brought with you around your body, balling your clothes into your arms.
Lamely, Ellie called for you from her place in the water as you left her behind. Before you covered up, she eyed the scars and bruises on your body—maps of what your vessel has been through. Perhaps, she should have entered the conversation with more caution.
Watching you stalk back into the cabin, wiping at your eyes felt like a punishment. A worse punishment than the fact that she didn’t have a towel to dry off with.
“Nice work, Ellie.”
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unburiedhatchet · 28 days ago
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Arcade by Duncan Laurence inspired Moodboard for Trikey. I love our boys so much <3 @crankbaby
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taisgf · 2 months ago
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can you write about reader rescuing abby and lev after sb ^^
AGAINST THE TIDE.
A/N: gn!reader. violence, soft!abby, established abby x reader, reader is quite sarcastic.. fluff, hurt/comfort. In this fic she doesn’t get on the boat to the island, she’s just chillin on the beach ig?? First req yayayay!!! ily anon
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SUMMARY: After weeks of grueling torture at the hands of the rattlers and a brutal encounter with Ellie, Abby couldn’t be happier to hear your voice. AKA: saving Abby and Lev after Santa Barbara
The air is thick with the ocean’s salt, though it does little to cleanse the taste of metallic blood in Abby’s mouth that lingers after the fight with Ellie. She was long gone- disappeared, her figure vanished into the seemingly endless night.
Abby can feel the sand against her palms, Lev’s head suspended on her lap. She had been able to relocate maybe 150 meters up the beach before collapsing near a mound of sand and weeds, her legs numb, her whole body weak. Abby looks up at the sky- a thick haze of cloud covering everything. No sun. No sky. Just.. grey. She rests her head against the sand, sighing as she looks down at Lev, a hand weakly stroking his forehead.
She can hear the sound of footsteps against the sand, soft, tentative. A pit forms in her gut- maybe Ellie had changed her mind. Maybe it was a Rattler. Maybe-
“Abby?” She hears you call.
Her head whips in your direction, scanning your face. Her eyes meet yours. All she can do is say your name, weakly trying to stand, holding Lev in her arms.
“Hey. Hey.” You assure, immediately jogging over to Abby and placing a hand on her shoulder, scanning her and Lev’s injuries.
“I’ve got you. It’s okay. Christ, Abby-“ You sigh, a mix of relief, longing and pain.
“(Y/N).” Abby says again, her voice hoarse and raspy. She leans to press her forehead against yours, her stance wobbly at best. You let it linger for a second- a hand coming to hold her jaw and press a kiss to her dry, chapped lips. You look down at Lev, running a hand over his head soothingly. The kid's out- cold.
You take Lev into your arms, and wrapping one around Abby’s shoulder to support her. “Come on,” you coax. Abby nods, resting her weight against you as you walk. You think back to when you were separated nearly a month ago- what Abby had said to you.
“Go. We’ll meet you at Catalina, okay? Don’t worry. We can handle ourselves.”
You remember getting there maybe a week and a half ago- no Abby, no Lev. A week at Catalina, still nothing. Two weeks. Now you’re here- finding her washed up on some beach, completely wrecked after days of searching.
You look them over again as you walk, and give Abby a half-smile. "You two look rough."
Abby huffs a weak laugh, leaning heavily on you as you drag her and Lev towards the shack you found earlier—a shabby fisherman's hut, long abandoned but still standing strong. You had prepared it as best as you could in the short time you had, but it would have to do.
You guide them to the old hut, flicking on a lantern and lighting a candle. Abby collapses onto the makeshift bed with a groan, scanning the place. “You really know how to spoil a girl, don’t you?”
“I try,” you quip, grabbing your med kit as you sit on the edge of Abby's bed. You don't miss the way her hand subconsciously grips your thigh, a familiar act of comfort for the two of you. "-And I like the new hair. Really frames your face."
"Shut up." She rasps, hissing as she fully relaxes into the old mattress.
As you start cleaning Abby’s wounds, you can’t help but smirk. “You know, I was expecting some sort of big, romantic reunion. Maybe some flowers, even a ‘missed you, babe,’ or something.”
Abby chuckles, wincing as you apply antiseptic to a nasty gash on her side. “Sorry to disappoint.”
"Forgiven, for now. I don't hate this, it makes me feel important. If I didn't know better, I'd say you and Lev need me right now. Maybe this could be our new thing.”
She leans back, closing her eyes for a moment. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You turn your gaze to Lev, who lies on the other mattress near Abby's; feeling his forehead with the back of your palm, a concerned gaze lingering in your eyes.
Abby watches you, her eyes soft. “I’m serious, though,” she says quietly. “I thought I wouldn't get to see you again for a second there.”
You glance at her, face softening. “Please, you’re not that easy to shake. I’ve tried.”
A small smile tugs at Abby’s lips. “Lucky me.”
"...You know I never would have stopped looking for you two, right? Not for a second. I'm serious, Abs. I love you. You two are everything to me." You affirm, this time with an audibly more serious yet tender tone.
"Yeah. I know," Abby says gently, her eyes scanning your face, taking in every single detail. "I love you too. As does Lev."
“Damn right,” you hum, finishing up the bandaging on her side. “Now, try not to get into any more fights for the next, I don’t know, twelve hours? Maybe even twenty-four? I hear it’s good for your health, or something.”
Abby groans, but there’s softness in her eyes and humor in her words as she looks up at you. “I’ll see what I can do.”
You plop down beside her with an exaggerated sigh, pulling her closer. “Good, because I’m not dragging your ass off another beach anytime soon.”
Abby lets out a real laugh this time, resting her head against your shoulder and pressing a few kisses to your skin. “Deal.”
And for now, that’s enough.
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