#I don't really have anything to celebrate-
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Buck volunteers for the Thanksgiving shift. When Maddie asks, he apologizes, saying, "I don't really feel festive right now. But keep some leftovers for me?"
On the day, firehouses around the country all have similar calls to deal with: kitchen grease fires from frying turkeys, sprains in backyard games of football, people injuring one another because "did you hear what she said about our Emma/Francis/Kailey?". Buck is kept too busy to think, and it's nice having the time to catch up with Ravi, who's thinking of going to school to study law.
Their brothers and sisters in uniform also drop off dishes at the station, so between calls, they get pretty good food. Captain Graham gives them an hour offline after four consecutive calls. Buck collapses into a chair and serves himself pasta salad and a delicious honey baked ham, while his dinner rolls warm up in the oven.
He's scrolling through his phone, diligently avoiding the messaging apps, when a message preview pops up.
Tommy.
Buck almost drops his fork. He scrambles away from the dinner table, even though no one on C shift will try to take his phone from him, and finds a spot in the stairwell to read it.
Tommy: hope you have a good & safe Thanksgiving
As he's reading, another bubble appears and Buck's heart skips several beats, but this time it doesn't disappear. A second message arrives, followed by a third.
Tommy: don't know why I texted that
Tommy: guess I just wanted to say something to you
Tommy: you don't have to reply
Tommy: anyway. Happy holidays
Buck feels a slight loosening of the vice around his heart that has been there since that night. With a smile on his face, he types, deletes, types again.
Buck: happy Thanksgiving to you too
Buck: how many kitchen grease fires you got this year? We had 3
Tommy: you're working today?
Tommy: 4, but one of it was in the backyard
They're having a conversation. They're having an actual casual conversation, as easy as they used to on calmer shifts. Buck wants to cry. But he has to answer Tommy's question or have this conversation end too soon. Thinking about his options, he decides that he has nothing to lose anyway.
Buck: I didn't wanna sit around and smile and pretend I'm thankful for everything
Buck: it's better to keep busy
Tommy: I know that feeling
Tommy: I'm sorry
Buck: I'm sorry too
Buck: I wish we could've celebrated together
Buck: I would've said that I'm thankful for you
Tommy: I would have said that too
Tommy: I'm still thankful for you jsyk. I'll always be grateful to have got to know you
Does Tommy think he can't stay in Buck's life just because they broke up?
Buck: I don't think you know me well enough
Tommy: sorry
Buck wishes he'd run after Tommy that night, or done something since to show that he wants Tommy. Well, here's your chance, his brain reminds him. Do something.
He takes a deep breath. Then he types.
Buck: I want to meet. If I come over after Thanksgiving shift, will you please be home?
Tommy: is that a good idea
Buck: idk. But I can't stop thinking about you, and I miss you, and I wanna know what I did wrong. I wanna meet.
Tommy: I miss you too. You didn't do anything wrong, I just didn't want to... Idk. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much.
Buck: we need to talk in person. Texting is not good enough.
It isn't. He needs to see Tommy again. Tommy with his storm blue eyes and tender smile and broad shoulders and soft clothes. Tommy whose crinkly smile drives Buck a little (a lot) insane. Tommy whose lips he now knows the shape of by touch alone, whose body he has mapped out in detail, who knows how it feels to be inside Buck in the most intimate of ways.
He waits for a response. Hopes there will be one. It comes several minutes after, like Tommy had to really think about it.
Tommy: maybe not immediately after Thanksgiving shift
Tommy: are you off on Monday
The relief that crashes into Buck feels almost as overwhelming as the tsunami he was caught in years ago.
Buck: yes
Buck: your place this time
Buck: I'll bring cake
Tommy: you don't have to bribe me to open the door
Buck: no I just baked too much stuff is all. I'll explain when we meet
Buck: I'm really thankful you texted
Tommy: I'm thankful you replied
Tommy: have a good rest of the shift, Evan
It's Evan again. Buck can't hide his smile at all. Tucking his phone into his pocket, he goes back to dinner. Monday can't be here fast enough.
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hey i was wondering if you could do how arcane characters would react to seeing their partner looking really good dressed up?? also i love ur writing!!
Arcane characters reacting to their s/o dressed up really pretty. | Vi, Ekko, Jinx x Gn!Reader
Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you'll enjoy this!!<3
Content: Established romantic relationships, fluff, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
》VI
"Ooh... where are we going?" A wide grin rested on her lips as she watched you put on your fancy shoes and straighten out the last details of your pretty attire. "I'm going out with a couple friends." In other words, she was not invited. But Vi couldn't hear you over the sound of her mind spinning with many different thoughts.
Humming, she leaned against a wall next to you, intensely dark eyes staring you down with a glint that made you shake your head in defiance. "No." "Oh come on, Cupcake! Do you really have to go out today? I mean... I can go along. It's dangerous around this time of the night and-" "-Viiii. I can take care of myself." She pouted at your clear disagreement, hardly attempting to even hide how much she loved the way you looked.
"Aw... please? At least let me tag alone so I can show you off to everyone." Typical. And yet, you had a hard time denying her anything when her hands suddenly sneaked around your waist so smoothly. She always got what she wanted out of you in the end. Not that you necessarily minded.
"Fineeee... but keep your hands to yourself around them." You huff out whilst your heart warmed a t the sight of pure excitement on her face. But the slyness in her smirk didn't leave as she gratefully kissed your cheek and let go. "Can't promise you that when you're looking so good, unfortunately... but I'll try. For now."
Rolling your eyes with a smile, you let her happily run off to get ready, glad that she enjoyed your outfit a lot.
》EKKO
He was stunned at the sight of you emerging from the bedroom, fully dressed up so beautifully it left him speechless. The Firelights were having a huge festival in celebration of a recent successful mission, and of course, you were both expected to look your best. And you weren't the type to ever disappoint either.
It was rare to see you dressed up so nicely, the cute outfit being one he had only seen a small couple of times before due to your line of work and life circumstances. But in his mind, you looking so good was a sign of success. He wanted you to be able to dress that way every day, perhaps another motivation of his to continue going.
"How do I look?" You ask, the nervous tone in your voice making his eyes soften even further. "You look great. Who are you trying to impress, hm?" His words were playful as he grabbed your waist carefully. Ekko mirrored the shy smile that crept onto your lips at his question. "A certain someone. I don't think you know him, though." You played along, watching as he raised a brow with an unimpressed smirk.
"Hm... maybe we shouldn't go out then-" "-Oi! Why are you guys taking so long? Let's get going." Scar's voice made you both jump, as he appeared in the doorway and waved you over. A sly smirk crept onto your face as you quickly followed after the man. "Ah, there he is! See ya around, Ekko!" "Hey! I'll remember this-!" Running after you two, he couldn't help but laugh a little.
The festival was going to be great, to say the least.
》JINX
You were just trying out some new clothes you had gotten. Nothing special and definitely not for anyone else's eyes, except for hers. Once you were done, you were quick to hunt down your girlfriend to show her your outfit. "Jinx! How do I look?" You asked, a happy smile on your lips as you now stood next to her, whilst she tinkered away on some projects. Removing her googles, she glanced up at you and blinked in surprise, near speechless for a moment.
Nervously shifting under her intense gaze, you wondered if she didn't like it. "Uhm... should I go change or-" "-You look really good..." She muttered thoughtfully before a large grin crept onto her lips mischievously. "A bit too good! Makes me nearly jealous, pretty. How about you dress me up too so we can match?" You should have honestly seen this coming, as she enjoys doing cute things like that with you.
And so, you did as she asked, whilst she painted your nails to match her own. By the end of it, you looked like you were headed to a fancy event, something she found greatly amusing. Kicking a nearby radio to make it play music, she held out her hand to you with a bright smile. "Alright, let's get this party started!"
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x genderneutral reader#arcane x y/n#arcane vi#arcane vi x reader#vi x reader#vi#arcane jinx#arcane jinx x reader#jinx#jinx x reader#arcane ekko#arcane ekko x reader#ekko x reader#ekko
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I haven't posted before and I'm on very little sleep so big ol' pinch of salt buut, I think, especially in regard to quote at the end that what is considered in the canon of what art people are consuming is extremely narrow and not representative of what people are actually making and listening two within their respective niches. Personally I find my politics has been informed by the entertainment I've consumed more than anything else(I think) annd it makes me hopeful that blatant radical messages in shows r becoming more common like idk if the one of the biggest films (I don't think shows were much of a thing) wld call Nixon an outright nazi like full on call him a nazi, and it gives me hope that shows like the boys are doing this, at the same time I think this goes over lots of peoples heads or like the Instagram racists or 4chan types celebrate homelander as an 'ironic' or like meta-ironic hero and this gives me much less hope. also I would say that maybe I actually do agree with this were media can point to what a society was collectively (at least within its niches) thinking at a given time. Idk if this post makes any sense or if I've added anything but I feel like I wanna post anyway
actually more point I want to make:
I feel like artists shld not stop efforts to push radical messages into mainstream media but also shld not be that chuffed with themselves if they have and praxis is probably gonna make more measurable difference, alsooo while mainstream media is funded by companies such as Amazon I think for really mainstream stuff like the boys there is always gonna be a filter for anything that wld be that radical to motivate an audience to do something abt actual issues unfortunately, think this happened with the boys in the last season where it moved from away from the higher quality satire of like 2-3 seasons and become just poltics reference haha with no substance past ' republican b like I hate trans people'.
Concluding my first post here to Tumblr I think I have lots of thoughts on the boys which is maybe relevant to the post but who knows, not me, I haven't slept.
I bid thee adieu
Words from Toni Morrison, Audre Lorde, and James Baldwin about “the vital role that artists play in society generally, and doubly so in the face of authoritarian regimes”.
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i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 2003 - i can see us lost in the memory
chapter summary: After searching for answers about his past, Logan comes back to the mansion after finding nothing at Alkali Lake. When he comes back he sees you, the only thing he can remember.
word count: 6.9k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: i skipped x1 (mostly because i felt like i couldn't place reader into the story and have her actually make a change in it) so we're starting with x2! don't worry, next chapter is going to make you sick with tooth rotting fluff
(also thank you for 700 followers!! and happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate! <3)
warnings/tags: follows events of x2 (strays slightly), reader is a mutant with time manipulation powers, reader wears glasses, shy!reader, light violence
series masterlist - chapter 6 → chapter 8
Alkali Lake held nothing. No clues, no leads, nothing. And because of that he’s still drifting, unable to remember anything but you.
He’s not sure when the last time he saw you was, he can only remember that he’s had you 5 times and lost you 5 times.
But now… now he has nothing but fragments, barely more than dreams, and a dull ache he can’t ignore, even if he can no longer remember the details. He knows you were there, remembers the way your touch soothed him, the warmth of your voice—and each time he replays those memories, he feels something deeper, sharper, tugging at the places in him that will never mend.
---
Logan opened the doors to the mansion, Rogue walking towards him. “Logan!” She went up to hug him before quickly pulling back.
“You miss me, kid?”
“Not really.” She shook her head sarcastically.
“Hmm. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. How are you?”
“Who’s this?” Logan gestured with his head behind Rogue.
Rogue turned around, “oh, this is Bobby. He’s my- ”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Bobby cut in, shaking Logan’s hand using his ice powers, “call me Ice Man.”
Logan pulled away with a slight scowl, “right. Boyfriend? So how do you guys…?”
Bobby and Rogue shared a look, “well, we’re still working on that.” He said.
“Look who’s come back. Just in time.” Ororo spoke, as she walked down the stairs.
“For what?” Logan questioned.
“We need another babysitter.”
“Babysitter?”
“Nice to see you again, Logan.” Ororo said kindly.
“Hi, Logan.” Jean spoke, announcing herself as she walked down the stairs.
Logan briefly looked her way, “Jean.”
“Uh, I should go and get the jet ready.” Ororo said quietly.
“Yeah, well, it was good to meet you.” Bobby grabbed Rogue’s hand, “come on, let’s go.”
“Bye, Logan. I’ll see- I’ll see you later!” Rogue called out.
Jean walked in front of Logan, “Storm and I are heading to Boston. We won’t be gone long. The professor wants us to track down a mutant who attacked the president.”
“So it was a mutant.” Logan responded.
“You’ll be here when we get back- unless you plan on running off again.”
Logan tilted his head slightly. “Oh, I could—” His words trailed off as he caught sight of you. The stack of papers in your hands wobbled as you came down the stairs, muttering under your breath. He watched you, the tilt of your head as you pushed your glasses back up, the way you carefully balanced the papers in your hands.
You. He knew you. He knew that face, that presence. It hit him like a punch to the gut, an undeniable recognition buried beneath layers of fractured memories. You were the only thing that came back to him clearly in all the chaos. The short-lived lives you had, and every time it ended up with you dead in his arms.
He blinked, processing, as if you’d vanish if he looked away. You glanced up, catching his stare, and you stopped mid-step, eyes widening a little.
“Oh, uh… hi,” you said, awkwardly adjusting your glasses.
“Hi,” he echoed, still staring, as if searching for something familiar in the way you moved.
You shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, then tried a smile. “You’re… Logan, right?”
He swallowed, feeling something catch in his throat. “Yeah. Logan.”
Breaking the tension, Scott walked down the stairs, “find what you were looking for, Logan?”
Logan barely acknowledged Scott’s words, his gaze fixed on you. The room, the people around him, the mansion itself—they all blurred, faded, became nothing more than static in the background. He knew you. The only thing he remembered clearly, despite all the fog in his mind, was you.
The stack of papers shifted in your hands as you glanced between him and Scott, your unease clear. It was like you sensed something, too, even if you couldn’t put a finger on it.
“Uh, no, not exactly,” Logan finally replied, his voice gruff, his eyes still on you. “Thought I’d… found something. Guess not.”
Scott didn’t seem too interested in probing. “Well, welcome back. Make yourself at home.”
But Logan barely heard him. He watched as you attempted a shy smile, not quite meeting his eyes. “I… I should go.” You hesitated, lifting the papers as if they’d shield you. “It was nice meeting you, Logan.”
He nodded, his throat dry. “Same.”
You hurried past, your steps soft but quick, almost like you were escaping.
Scott raised an eyebrow at Logan, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Didn’t know you were one for the shy ones.”
Logan shot him a look that could’ve split wood, but Scott just shrugged and walked off, leaving Logan alone with his thoughts.
For a moment, Logan debated following you. He’d known you before; he was sure of it. And even if he couldn’t recall the exact details, there was no mistaking the pull he felt, the way his chest tightened just being in your presence. He couldn’t remember much, barely fragments, yet you were a constant. And every time, he’d lost you. Every damn time.
---
After double checking that everyone was out of their rooms, whether taken or already escaped, you made your way to the secret tunnel, hitting the paneled wall as it opened.
You saw Rogue, Bobby, John, and Logan running down the hall. “Go on,” you said, letting the kids go through before you did. You noticed no one behind you as the door slid down, closing.
“Logan!” Rogue called out.
Bobby and John had already started to run down the tunnel while you stayed by the wall, ear pressed against it trying to hear what was happening.
Rogue stayed by you, clearly worried about Logan. You opened the door quietly as Bobby and John came back. It was quiet in the hall, Logan was walking slowly toward the older man as your eyes briefly fluttered shut, pausing the intruders in time.
“Logan, come on. Let’s go.” Rogue yelled out.
“Logan,” you said gently, as he finally turned his head towards the group.
“Go. I’ll be fine.”
“But we won’t.” Rogue responded.
Logan contemplated for a few moments before walking towards you, “go. Keep going.” Logan entered the tunnel as the door closed behind him while you un-paused the men in the hall.
The five of you ran down the tunnel before climbing up a ladder to the garage. “Come on, get in. Get in!” Logan said.
You went to open the passenger door to the back when a large, warm hand landed on your waist, the grip warm and familiar even though you knew you'd never been this close to him before. Your breath hitched, and you glanced over your shoulder, only to meet his intense gaze as he gently nudged you toward the front seat. His hand lingered a second longer than it needed to, his touch almost hesitant, as if he was committing the feel of you to memory.
“Front seat, Y/N,” he murmured.
“R-Right. Thanks,” you stammered, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks as you slid into the passenger seat. He followed, taking his place behind the wheel, while Rogue, Bobby, and John piled into the back.
“This is Cyclops’s car.” Bobby said.
“Oh, yeah?” Logan unsheathed a singular claw, stabbing it into the ignition and turning on the car. The garage doors opened as the car sped out.
“What the hell was that back there?” John finally asked.
“Stryker.” Logan answered. “His name is Stryker.”
“Who is he?” Rogue questioned.
“I can’t remember.” Logan said quietly.
Rogue, after a few moments of silence, took off the dog tags around her wrist, passing them to Logan in the front, “here. This is yours.”
Even though you couldn’t see the kids in the back, you could tell they were uncomfortable with the silence. John leaned forward, “I don’t like uncomfortable silences.”
“What are you doing?” Rogue asked from beside him.
John turned on the radio as music played loudly from the car’s stereo’s, “bye, bye, bye…” Everyone groaned at the loud intrusion as John promptly turned it back off.
But, a small compartment opened, revealing a sleek metal device. “I don’t think that’s the CD player.” John said.
Logan grabbed it, twisting it in his hands. It blipped once, “whoa,” he muttered. Logan looked at John momentarily, “sit back.”
“Where we going?” John asked.
“Storm and Jean are in Boston. We’ll head that way.” Logan answered.
Bobby looked off to the side, “my parents live in Boston.”
“Good.” Logan said.
---
It was morning when you arrived at Bobby’s parents’ house. He unlocked the front door and stepped inside, “mom! Dad! Ronny! Is anybody home?” No one responded, the house was empty. Bobby looked at Rogue, “I’ll try and find you some clothes.” Bobby then looked over at John, who was continuously flicking his lighter open, “don’t burn anything.”
Logan was in the kitchen, trying to get the phone, or comm device he wasn’t sure, to work. He put it to his ear, “hello?” Static crackled over the device, “hello?” Logan asked again. “Come on, Jean. Where are you?”
You had just freshened up a bit when the door opened, Bobby’s family entering the house, looking at Logan in the kitchen with an open beer bottle.
“Hey, Ronny, next time you…” Bobby’s father started, but stopped when he saw Logan. “Who the hell are you?”
“Uh…” Logan pointed at the stairs as Bobby ran down them.
“Bobby…?”
“Honey, aren’t you supposed to be at school?” Bobby’s mother asked. Rogue quietly walked down the stairs.
“Bobby, who is this guy?”
“Uh… this is Professor Logan.” Bobby paused before speaking again, “there’s something I need to tell you.”
Soon, you all ended up in the living area, the kids and Bobby’s parents sitting down on the couch with you and Logan standing in the doorway.
“So, uh, when did you first know you were a… a…” Bobby’s mother trailed off.
“A mutant?” John spoke up, still flicking his lighter open and closed.
“Would you cut that out?” she said.
“You have to understand, we thought Bobby was going to a school for the gifted.” his father spoke.
“Bobby is gifted.” Rogue cut in.
“We know that. We just didn’t realize…”
His mother cut off her husband, “we still love you, Bobby. It’s just… this mutant problem is a little…”
“What mutant problem?” Logan interrupted, leaning against the other side of the doorway as you with his arms crossed.
“…complicated.” she finished.
Bobby’s father spoke again, “what exactly are you a professor of Mr. Logan?”
“Art.”
“Well, you should see what Bobby can do.” Rogue said.
Bobby leaned forward, gently touching his mother’s teacup with one finger as the tea turned to ice.
“Bobby…” his mother trailed off. She flipped the teacup on its side as the ice slid to the plate.
“I can do a lot more than that.”
His mother shakily put the plate and teacup on the glass table as the cat jumped up and started to lick the ice. Bobby’s brother Ronny left the room with a quiet anger.
“Ronny?” His mother called out as he went up the stairs. “This is all my fault.”
John spoke up, “actually, they discovered that males are the ones who carry the mutant gene and pass it on, so it’s his fault.”
A few moments later, the comm device started to beep. “Oh, God…” Logan took the device out of his pocket and started to walk to the sliding door, “it’s for me.”
“Bobby… have you tried… not being a mutant?” His mother asked.
Logan came back inside and locked the sliding door, “we have to go now. Now!”
“Why?” Rogue questioned. “Logan, what’s wrong?”
He walked to the front door, claws extended and you and the kids following to come face to face with police officers on the front lawn, point guns at you.
“Drop the knives and put your hands in the air.” An officer ordered from their right.
“What’s going on here?” Logan muttered.
“Ronny.” Bobby answered, coming to the realization.
“I said, drop the knives!” The officer ordered again.
Glass shattered from inside the house, “turn around! Up against the wall! Up against the wall!” An officer ordered Bobby’s parents, still in the living area.
“This is just a misunderstanding.” Logan said.
“Put the knives down!”
Logan turned to look at the officer, “I can’t. Look,” he raised his arm slowly as the officer fired a shot, straight into Logan’s forehead.
Rogue screamed and you gasped as Logan hit the patio floor.
“All right, the rest of you- on the ground now!” The same officer ordered.
You, Bobby, and Rogue slowly sank to the ground, but John stayed standing.
“Look, kid, I said on the ground!”
“We don’t want to hurt you, kid.” The officer on the other side said.
“You know all those dangerous mutants you hear about on the news?” John flicked open his lighter as you murmured his name, “I’m the worst one.” He blasted fire at the officer who shot Logan, sending him off the patio. He turned and did the same to the woman on the other side, then inside the house at the two officers.
John turned forward, blasting fire at the officers on the front lawn, the car exploding, before doing the same to another police car. A siren sounded down the street, coming to the house, as John blasted another stationary car by the front lawn, throwing the moving car off track. He blasted that car too.
Rogue, on the ground in front of you, took off her white glove and grabbed John’s ankle. The fire in his hands died off as Rogue stopped the fires surrounding the police cars and lawn.
The bullet popped out of Logan’s head as he woke up, the Blackbird slowly landing in the street. Logan stood up, cracking his neck. Bobby and the kids rushed off the stairs first, heading to the jet.
Logan instinctively put a hand on the small of your back, not pushing you or guiding you just… resting there. You took a quick glance up at him before reverting your gaze back to what was ahead of you.
John was the first one to walk up the ramp, and the first one to see Kurt turn in his chair. “Guten tag.” Kurt greeted.
The rest of you got onto the jet, buckling in, “who the hell is this?” Logan asked.
“Kurt Wagner. But in the Munich circus, I was known as the Incredible Nightcrawler.”
“As, save it. Storm?”
“We’re out of here.” The engines powered up as the ship jerked slightly while taking off.
---
“How far are we?” Logan asked, walking up behind Jean’s chair.
“We’re actually coming up on the mansion now.” Jean replied, as the console started to beep.
“I’ve got two signals approaching.” Ororo said, “coming in fast.”
“Unidentified aircraft, you are ordered to descend to 20,000 feet. Return with our escort to Hanscom Air Force Base. You have ten seconds to comply.”
“Wow, somebody’s angry.” Ororo commented.
Logan looked back at John, “I wonder why.”
“We are coming up alongside you to escort you to Hanscom Air Force Base. Lower your altitude now.” The two planes come up on both sides of the jet, “repeat-lower your altitude to 20,000 feet. This is your last warning.”
The planes started to fly behind, “they’re falling back.” Ororo spoke. Rapid beeping sounded out from the console. “They’re marking us.”
“What?” Logan asked.
“They’re going to fire! Hang on!” Ororo started to fly the jet in a defensive position as they buckled into their seats. “I got to shake them.”
The jet briefly flew upside down then righted itself, “please don’t do that again.” John said.
“I agree.” Logan remarked. “Don’t we have any weapons in this heap?”
The sky started to darken as dark clouds formed, quickly turning into tornadoes. The jet started to shake from the heavy winds as Ororo tried getting the two planes off their tails.
Once their radar was clear, Ororo stopped, the sky brightening back to its natural state.
“Everybody okay back there?” Jean questioned.
“No,” Logan answered simply.
Rapid beeping sounded out from the console once again, “oh, my God, there’s two of them,” Ororo said. Jean used her powers and took out one of the missiles, “there’s one more.” The remaining missile continued flying closer to them, “Jean?”
Jean gasped, “oh, God!” At the last second, Jean directed the missile slightly up, causing the back end of the jet to blow open.
Rogue, who wasn’t buckled in, flew out the back as Bobby yelled for her. Kurt briefly looked back before disappearing and then reappearing in the jet, right by the pilot’s seat next to Ororo and Jean as the jet nosedived.
The panels in the ship began to crackle as metal creaked and the back of the jet repaired itself. “Jean?” Ororo asked.
“It’s not me.” Jean answered, as the jet suddenly stopped, hovering over an older man and woman you didn’t recognize.
---
You had your head and arms buried deep into the jet's console, a strand of hair falling in front of your face as you tried to twist one more wire into place. The tech was scrambled from the missile hit, panels still flickering with bursts of static, and while it wasn’t exactly in your wheelhouse, you knew enough to give it a try. Besides, it kept your hands busy while the rest of the team talked to Erik around the fire and the kids set up tents.
After some time, you walked down the stairs of the jet, mostly for a small break from the incessant lighting and saw Logan smoking a cigar by the ramp. You almost turned around and walked back up, until he turned to look at you, more than halfway down the stairs.
You gulped and played with the tool in your hands as Logan looked at his cigar briefly, noticing the smoke was frozen in the air. He turned his gaze to the trees nearby also taking note that they were frozen as well; no wind blowing through their leaves.
“Ya always freeze time when you get nervous?” Logan tilted his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched you, trapped in your own nervous suspension of time. You gave a tight, embarrassed smile, the tool in your hands twisting around your fingers as you took a deep breath and forced yourself to let go of the freeze.
“No. Only sometimes,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat. The trees resumed their gentle sway, and the smoke from his cigar curled upward lazily again. Logan watched the subtle shift, something almost playful glinting in his gaze.
He took another drag of his cigar, eyes not leaving you. “So, what’s got you nervous?”
Your fingers fumbled with the tool. “It’s, um… I don’t usually come across people who…” You trailed off, looking down at your hands.
Truth was, he made you nervous. Why wouldn’t he? He was… a lot of things, and in the few days you have known him you couldn’t help but feel more reserved than usual.
Logan leaned back against the ramp, watching you with a calm expression, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Care to be more specific?” He seemed content to let you fumble, patient in a way that only made your pulse quicken more.
You shrugged, pretending to focus on the tool in your hands. “I don’t know, maybe it’s the… whole mysterious, intense thing you’ve got going. That, and the fact that I accidentally freeze time whenever you look at me like that.”
He raised an eyebrow, letting out a low chuckle. “Like what?”
“Like…” You trailed off, finally looking up at him. “Like you’re trying to figure something out, but I’m not sure I want to know what.”
“Maybe I am,” Logan said, taking a drag of his cigar. His eyes softened a bit, and you felt a warmth settle over you. He didn’t push, didn’t pry—just waited. After all, patience was one of the many things he’d perfected over the years.
You shifted on your feet, glancing down to where your fingers had turned the wrench over and over, antsy. “Maybe I just don’t know what to make of you,” you murmured, feeling the weight of his gaze again.
“Guess that makes two of us,” he replied, his voice low. There was something unspoken in his words, something you couldn’t quite name.
The silence stretched out, and then, because there was something about the way he looked at you that felt like an invitation, you spoke. “Why’d you come out here, anyway? I thought you were all about avoiding everyone else.”
Logan flicked some ash off the end of his cigar. “Maybe I was gettin’ tired of avoidin’ things.” He paused, looking out toward the treeline, then back at you. “Or maybe I just wanted to see if you’d freeze time again.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Not exactly something I can control.”
“Good to know,” Logan replied, smirking. He took another puff, the smoke curling up in wisps around him. “So, are you fixin’ that thing, or just givin’ it the ol’ college try?”
You looked back at the jet, the half-repaired panel flickering with static. “Oh, definitely just winging it.”
Logan chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and for a moment, the tension seemed to ease. “Wouldn’t have pegged you for a ‘wing it’ type.”
You shrugged, biting back a smirk. “I’m full of surprises.”
The easy conversation brought a hint of a grin to his face, something warm and fleeting, and he tilted his head toward the jet. “C’mon, let’s see what else you can do, winging it.” He raised an eyebrow, as if challenging you.
You looked at him, then back at the jet, a bit of excitement tingling under your skin. “Alright, Logan. Let’s see what we can fix.”
---
“Stay with the kids.” Jean said. You opened your mouth to argue, you weren’t a child, yet it seemed like every mission you were treated like one. Never allowed on the field, never even brought in on a debriefing.
The rest of the group, other than Mystique who was already in the base, were outside the jet, making their way into Alkali Base. You were supposed to stay behind with Rogue, Bobby, and John.
“But, Jean—” you started, voice catching on the frustrated protest that lingered in your chest.
Jean turned, a hand on her hip and an exasperated look that was all too familiar. “We’ve talked about this, Y/N. You’re here to look after them.”
“Right,” you muttered, crossing your arms, your gaze falling on the others, who were half paying attention, half pretending not to notice. Rogue’s worried glance lingered on you; Bobby looked between you and the hallway where the rest of the team had disappeared.
Jean’s expression softened just slightly. “This isn’t a punishment, okay? The kids need someone they trust to keep them safe.”
You glanced at Logan, who gave you a slight nod, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Fine,” you mumbled, “I’ll stay with them.”
Jean pressed a reassuring hand to your shoulder. “We’ll be back soon.” She turned to catch up with the others, her footsteps echoing as they faded into the depths of the base.
Logan lingered for a moment, gaze unwavering. He looked at you for a beat too long, and something tightened in his expression. He gave a faint nod before heading off.
As the rest of the team disappeared down the corridor, John grinned, clearly amused by your frustration. "Looks like you got a babysitting gig, huh?"
You shot him a withering look, but Rogue was quick to jump in. "It's not like that, John."
“Could be worse,” Bobby added, trying to lighten the mood, “at least we’re safe here.”
You leaned against the cold metal wall, fingers tapping the console out of habit. “Yeah,” you replied, though your voice held none of the certainty you tried to convey.
From the depths of the corridor, Logan’s scent still lingered faintly in the air. You felt the tug of something unexplainable—a pull toward him that you’d noticed ever since he first set foot in the mansion. It was like trying to remember something you knew you’d forgotten.
Your hand, almost of its own accord, clenched into a fist, feeling the temptation to slow time, to buy a few seconds to gather your thoughts and process what lingered between you and Logan. But with Rogue, Bobby, and John right there, you resisted, focusing on keeping things steady.
And, yet, as you listened to the faint sounds echoing down the hall, a deep sense of restlessness settled in your chest.
---
“She’s controlling the jet!” Storm said, as the jet started to lightly shake.
“You, get her, now!” Logan told Kurt.
Kurt briefly phased, “she’s not letting me.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Charles spoke. “This is the only way.”
Scott leaned down next to Charles seat, “Jean? Listen to me. Don’t do this.”
“Good-bye.”
The jet started to hover above the water as a bright light shone briefly from the water before disappearing as quickly as it came.
“She’s gone,” Ororo said quietly.
The vision broke your focus as you flew the jet, the emergency landing protocol activated as it landed harshly, Rogue and Bobby standing in the cockpit by your seat.
A whoosh made you turn to the side to see Kurt putting Charles down in a seat. Kids started to climb up the stairs into the ramp as Ororo came by your side, “I got this, Y/N,” she said gently.
You let out a few more heavy breaths before standing up from the pilot’s seat, letting Ororo take your place.
As Scott fiddled with some of the controls, Charles spoke up, “Scott, we’ve got to get to Washington. I fear this has gone beyond Alkali Lake.”
Logan finally climbed up the stairs, a young boy in his arms, “Bobby.”
“Hey, I got him,” Bobby replied, carefully taking the boy from Logan’s arms.
Logan watched for a moment as Bobby wrapped an arm around the kid, murmuring something reassuring to him. When the boy seemed to relax, Logan shifted his gaze to you, lingering just a beat too long, that same unreadable look in his eyes.
The jet was buzzing with energy as everyone settled in, but his eyes never left yours. You felt it, that weight, the unspoken thing hanging between you both ever since you met. The others didn’t seem to notice—Bobby was focused on the kid, Rogue was buckling in, and Ororo and Scott were adjusting settings on the console. But Logan, he was watching you, something intense simmering beneath his stoic expression.
You tried to brush it off, focusing on the quiet hum of the jet as it prepared for takeoff. But that pull was there, like something forgotten tugging at your memory, or maybe… not forgotten, exactly. Maybe something you’d never known.
Finally, unable to help yourself, you looked back at him. “What?” you asked softly, half a smile on your lips to cover the nervous energy prickling at the base of your spine.
Logan didn’t smile back. “Nothing,” he replied, voice rough. But his gaze softened, just barely, and there was a glimmer of something warm. “Just making sure you’re alright.”
His words were casual, but you caught the faintest edge of something… familiar. Like a memory you couldn’t quite touch. You felt your fingers twitch, the familiar itch to pull time in around you, but you held back.
“I’m fine,” you said, brushing your hair behind your ear as you tried to shake off the strange feeling. “Thanks for asking.”
Logan nodded, but his gaze didn’t waver. He watched you for a beat longer, almost as if he were searching for something. Whatever it was, he didn’t find it—or maybe he did but decided not to say. Instead, he moved forward to Ororo, where her and Scott were trying to power the engines.
“What’s wrong?” Logan questioned.
“Vertical thrusters are offline.” Scott answered.
“So fix ’em.”
“I’m trying.”
“Hey, has anyone seen John?” Rogue called out.
“Pyro?” Logan asked. “Where the hell is he?”
“He’s with Magneto.” Jean replied.
“…but I don’t know how long they’re going to last.”
“I’m trying to override, but it’s not responding.” Scott grunted, “come on!”
“Oh, no, we’ve lost the power.” Ororo said.
“It’s coming. Come on!”
“There’s power in the fuel cells. They’re just not connected.”
“Okay, I’ll try to reroute it this way.” Ororo continued, but your gaze was focused on Jean, who was looking at the ramp of the jet. “Scott, the engine control system is shot.”
“Which part?”
“All of it!”
“Can’t you override?”
“Yes. It’s going to take some time.”
“Jean,” you whispered under your breath, too scared to act, fearing what would happen if you intervened. Instead, you watched as she walked down the ramp of the jet, glancing at the group one last time.
Charles tilted his head slightly to the side, “Jean?”
“Wait, where’s Jean?” Logan asked.
“She’s outside.” Charles said.
Scott bolted up from his seat to the ramp, but it closed as he got there, separating Jean from the rest of them. The consoles lit up as the engines came back online.
“No! We’re not leaving! Lower the ramp! Storm, lower it!” Scott yelled.
“I can’t!” She replied.
The water finally washed over to them, but because of Jean and her telekinesis it went around her.
“She’s controlling the jet!” Storm said, as the jet started to lightly shake.
“You, get her, now!” Logan told Kurt.
Kurt briefly phased, “she’s not letting me.”
“I know what I’m doing,” Charles spoke. “This is the only way.”
Scott leaned down next to Charles seat, “Jean? Listen to me. Don’t do this.”
“Good-bye.”
The jet started to hover above the water as a bright light shone briefly-
“-power in the fuel cells. They’re just not connected.”
“Okay, I’ll try to reroute it this way.” Ororo continued, but your gaze was focused on Jean, who was looking at the ramp of the jet. “Scott, the engine control system is shot.”
“Which part?”
“All of it!”
“Can’t you override?”
“Yes. It’s going to take some time.”
As Jean walked toward the ramp, you reached out and grabbed her forearm, halting her determined steps. Her head turned, meeting your gaze, and for a moment, her eyes softened. There was a weariness, a resignation in her look that you couldn’t ignore.
“Jean,” you whispered, tightening your grip. “There has to be another way.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she looked away, staring into the distance. The ramp was only steps away, but she hadn’t pulled her arm free. “It’s the only way to save everyone,” she said, her voice barely audible, as if speaking louder would shatter whatever resolve she had left.
“I’m not gonna let you die,” you spoke quietly.
Jean tilted her head, looking at the cockpit one more time before back at you, “you rewound. Didn’t you?” She hadn’t tried to pull away, and you could feel the rapid beat of her pulse through your grip on her arm. She knew. Somehow, she’d pieced it together—how you’d rewound, maybe even more than once.
“Yes,” you replied softly, your voice barely audible over the hum of the jet, “but this time—”
“This time won’t be any different,” Jean cut in, a trace of regret in her tone. “Some things… you can’t just rewind.”
You tightened your grip, not willing to let go. “I don’t believe that. I don’t believe it has to end like this.”
Her gaze softened, but there was a sadness in her eyes that you couldn’t bear. “You have to let me go, Y/N. You can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone.”
You shook your head, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “We’re a team, Jean. You can power on the jet, and I can pause the water.”
She looked away, clearly weighing every word you said against her own grim resolve, then back at you with a look of resigned understanding. "You don’t understand, Y/N. This—" she gestured to the waters crashing around them, then down to her own chest, her hand resting over her heart—"what’s happening to me... it’s too much. It’s a flood I can’t hold back.”
You could feel her pulse, still wild beneath your hand, and the memory of her last words echoed in your mind. "You have to let me go, Y/N. You can’t keep holding on to something that’s already gone.”
But she wasn’t gone, not yet, and the desperation that rose inside you felt like a fight against fate itself. “Jean, I’ve seen things go wrong before.” The words slipped out, the ghost of a memory that you couldn’t quite catch. “But I can feel it this time… we don’t have to lose you. Just trust me.”
For a moment, Jean’s gaze softened, and her grip on her resolve wavered. “Y/N…” she started, and you caught a glimmer of something in her eyes—gratitude, or maybe even hope. Her hand rested lightly over yours, though you could feel her power humming beneath her skin. “Alright,” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible. “But if something goes wrong… if it’s too much…”
You cut her off, squeezing her hand tighter. “Then we find another way. But you don’t have to do this alone.”
With a quick nod from Jean, you focused your energy, feeling time ripple and bend beneath your skin. Jean closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as she took in the extra moments you’d gifted her, enough to gather her power without tearing herself apart in the process.
Outside the jet, the water slowed, hovering just a few inches away from the plane, frozen in time. Everyone held their breath, the hum of the jet's engines amplified in the stillness. Scott turned back to the controls, guiding the jet forward through the suspended water. “It’s working,” he murmured, almost to himself. "We’re moving.”
In the cockpit, you felt your pulse race as you held the time bubble steady, feeling the strain build in your bones. This level of control was more intense than anything you’d managed before, but you pushed yourself to hold on, the determination to keep Jean and everyone safe steeling your resolve.
The jet jolted slightly as it broke through the edge of the water and rose higher, out of immediate danger. But the strain was starting to build, the sheer amount of energy it took to hold everything at bay beginning to wear on you. Your hand slipped, and you nearly stumbled, but before you could lose your focus entirely, a strong hand caught your arm.
Logan was at your side, his face mere inches from yours, concern laced in his voice. “You good?” he asked, his grip grounding you.
“Yeah… just give me a sec.” You took a breath, focusing on the feel of his hand, the warmth in his touch that felt familiar in a way you couldn’t explain. With that small, grounding connection, you found the strength to hold the time bubble for a few seconds more.
When the jet was finally clear, you released the grip on time, and the rush of water resumed its course beneath them. You staggered slightly, feeling a rush of exhaustion course through you, but Logan’s arm was still steady around you, even as you fell to the ground, your eyes fluttering shut.
Logan’s grip tightened as you slumped back, your breath shuddering as exhaustion swept over you. His hand was warm, rough fingers gently brushing against your cheek, bringing you back just enough to the moment. Your back was draped over his knees, your pulse still racing as you struggled to catch your breath. The world was a muted blur, but his voice broke through, steady and low, anchoring you.
“Hey, hey,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow circle on your cheek. “You’re alright. I got you.”
It was only his words, and the softness in them, that made you blink back the haze of exhaustion. As your vision cleared, you saw his face just inches from yours, an intensity in his gaze that seemed to search for something… something deeper than he was saying.
“Logan,” you whispered, not sure why his name slipped out so easily or why it felt so familiar, as if you’d said it before, in another life or another time. But the look he gave you held a weight you couldn’t name, a history you couldn’t remember.
“You with me?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper, but beneath it, there was something else, something almost pleading. He waited as you blinked up at him, your pulse slowly settling, tethered by his touch. “Y/N?”
“Yeah…” You tried to push yourself up, but the strain of holding time around the jet had left your muscles aching, feeling drained in a way you’d never experienced before. Logan’s grip on your shoulder tightened, steadying you, and for a moment, you let yourself lean into him, feeling his warmth.
His face softened, a flicker of relief crossing his expression, though he didn’t let go. “You pulled us out of that mess,” he said, his voice low, and for a second, something raw flickered in his eyes. “What were you thinking? Freezing the water like that—it could’ve knocked you out cold.”
“I couldn’t… I couldn’t just watch Jean go.” You inhaled deeply, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced toward the cockpit, where Jean’s quiet breathing filled the jet with a fragile peace. “I couldn’t let her do it alone.”
Logan gave a slow nod, his eyes narrowing as he studied you. You felt the intensity of his gaze, as if he was seeing something beyond what you could understand. There was a warmth to it, one that made your heart stutter, something deep and unexplainably familiar. He paused, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. “You’ve always been this way… haven’t you?”
“What do you mean?” you asked, thrown by the hint of something personal, something he couldn’t quite put into words. He dropped his hand from your face, settling it on your shoulder, but you could still feel the warmth lingering where he’d touched you.
“Never mind.” He looked away, his expression unreadable. But his hand remained steady on your shoulder, grounding you as the jet finally stabilized, the engines humming to life. You could hear the others bustling around, but for this moment, it was just the two of you, a silent understanding hovering between you.
“Logan…?” you started, not sure what you wanted to say or why his presence felt so deeply familiar. He turned back, a question in his eyes, as if he were waiting for something. But the words wouldn’t come. How could you ask him about a feeling you didn’t understand? About a memory that didn’t exist?
Instead, you exhaled, letting the silence fill the space between you. “Thank you.”
He watched you, his gaze lingering on your face, as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say. But he only nodded, a soft look crossing his face, one that felt almost like longing.
“Anytime,” he murmured, his hand finally slipping away, leaving a chill in its place.
“Y/N, you good back there?” Ororo’s voice broke the spell, and you managed a nod, giving her a thumbs-up.
“Yeah. Just… catching my breath.” You gave her a small smile, forcing your muscles to relax, even as your heart was still pounding. Logan stood, his gaze lingering on you for a beat before he moved to check on the others. But before he left, he looked back at you, his eyes holding a silent promise, a feeling that maybe—just maybe—he was still there, still watching over you.
---
A storm crackled outside thanks to Ororo and everyone around the group was frozen in time courtesy of you.
“Good morning, Mr. President.” Charles said. The President looked over to the side where Kurt was crouched on a small table. He began to stand up slowly, “please, don’t be alarmed. We’re not going to harm anyone.”
“Who are you people?”
“We’re mutants. My name is Charles Xavier. Please, sit down.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“Rogue.” Charles briefly glanced over at her, as she placed a large file onto the President’s desk. “These files were taken from the private offices of William Stryker.”
The President started to flip through the file, “how did you get this?”
“Well, let’s just say I know a little girl who can walk through walls.” Charles said, as the President looked over at Kurt who let out a quiet snicker. He finally sat back down.
“I’ve never seen this information.”
“I know.”
“Then you also know I don’t respond well to threats.”
“Mr. President, this is not a threat, this is an opportunity. There are forces in this world, both mutant and human alike, who believe that a war is coming. You’ll see from those files that some have already tried to start one. And there have been casualties. Losses on both sides. Mr. President, what you are about to tell the world is true. This is a moment. A moment to repeat the mistakes of the past, or to work together for a better future. We’re here to stay, Mr. President. The next move is yours.”
“We’ll be watching,” Logan said.
logan is around 171 years old (but at this point in the story, he doesn't really know how old he is so it's kinda irrelevant now) and reader is around 26 years old
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#james howlett x reader#james howlett x you#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett fic#i love you in every time
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First Wedding Anniversary ~ Love That Burns
LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST / EVERYDAY MOMENTS MASTERLIST
Word Count: 1,060ish
Summary: Your first wedding anniversary with Logan rolls around.
Notes: This fic goes with my series, Love That Burns! Please give it a read!
Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!
Logan wasn't one for remembering dates, and you understood that. So you took it upon yourself to plan something for your first wedding anniversary. You were grateful that it was a Sunday and that Logan didn’t have to work. You kissed his bare shoulder before slipping out of the bed. You tugged one of Logan's flannels over you and headed for the kitchen. Turning on some music, you began to throw together a small breakfast for Logan.
Logan woke up almost as soon as the music turned on. He could hear the music, groaning in frustration that he couldn’t pull you into him to keep you in bed. You were already up and moving. With a sigh, Logan got out of bed, slipping some sweats on before heading for the kitchen. He found himself stopped in the nearest doorway, a smirk on his lips, as he watched you move to the music while cooking. He was so lucky to have you in his life.
Slowly, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. You let out a little squeal as Logan's movements surprised you.
“Morning,” he gruffly said as he buried his head in your neck.
“Morning,” you replied with a smile, still working. “You were supposed to stay in bed.”
“Can’t sleep with you being so loud out here.”
“Hey! I am not being that loud.”
“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” He held a kiss to your neck, causing you to lean back into him. “Is there a reason you’re making me breakfast?”
You shrugged with a small smirk. “Maybe.”
“You really not gonna tell me?”
“Nope. Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”
Logan grunted disapprovingly before letting you go and beginning to help you. The two of you ate breakfast outside on the back patio, looking at the wonderful view of the mountains. Your plan needed Logan to go out for a while, so after breakfast, you waltzed up to him with a list.
“Do you mind running down to town for me?” You asked, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could manage.
“What do you need from town?” He asked, wiping his hands dry from doing the dishes.
“Just a few items,” you handed him the list.
His brows rose at the sight. “A few items? There’s at least twenty on this list.”
You sighed, making sure it was dramatic. “If you can’t, I’ll just—“
“No, no, no, I’ll go.”
“Thank you!” You gave him a kiss.
He chuckled. “You're welcome. You sure you don't need to add anything else?”
“Nope!” You kissed his cheek before walking away. “Don't worry about rushing back!”
Logan’s brows pinched together. “Okay?” He could tell you were up to something, but it wasn't worth the fight. So Logan got dressed and headed out to gather your list from the stores in town.
As soon as Logan was gone, you got to work. The house needed to be cleaned, dinner needed to be made, the bedroom needed to be put together, and you needed to make sure that you were ready for the night.
~~~
Logan was completely done with the list when he passed by the flower shop. A few bouquets caught his eye, and he decided you deserved one.
“Welcome,” the owner greeted as Logan entered the store.
“Thanks,” Logan mumbled, eyes scanning the various bouquets.
“Are you looking for anything specific?”
“No.”
"Celebrating anything? A birthday? An anniversary?”
Logan froze as the words left the owner's mouth. He was a terrible husband. It was your first wedding anniversary and he had completely forgotten. “Fuck.”
“Excuse me?”
“Sorry. That wasn’t—I forgot that it’s my wife and I’s anniversary.”
“Oh, how many years have you been together.”
“A lot of time. But it's our first wedding anniversary.”
“Well, I have a few bouquets ready to go if you want to take a look at them.”
“I’ll take them all.”
“What?"
“All of the bouquets you have ready. I want them.”
“You sure?"
“Positive.”
~~~
The house was clean. The table was set with dinner ready on it. The house was lit with candles and soft romantic music played through the house. You were anxiously waiting for Logan, wearing a new outfit specially picked out for this. You bit your lip as you heard the truck pull up. The sounds outside had you curious as they sounded rushed and almost frantic. You were about ready to head to the door when it burst open, and Logan came hurrying in with too many bouquets in his arms.
“Logan, what—"
“I’m sorry,” Logan quickly interrupted you. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I completely forgot it was our anniversary. I’m a terrible husband, and I—“
Your hand came up and pressed against his lips, stopping his rambling. You couldn’t help but smile at him with a light laugh. “Logan, honey, I know you. I know that you’re terrible with dates because of your memory issues, and I know that you'd never purposefully forget our anniversary. It’s why I took control of it.”
Logan finally looked around, taking in the candles and your new outfit. His eyes caught sight of the set table and the dinner awaiting on it. You had pushed him out of the house to set this up. For him.
“I should have remembered,” he muttered against your hand.
You shook your head, stepping closer despite the flowers in his arms. “I remembered for the both of us. Plus, I wanted to do something special for you. You deserve good things too, Logan.”
Logan let the flowers fall to your feet before he took your wrist, kissing your palm before pulling your hand away from his mouth. “I only need one good thing, princess, and that’s you.” His other arm went around your waist and pulled you closer. “You are all I need.” The two of you shared a slow, loving kiss before Logan pulled away. “I love you so much, sweetheart. Thank you for doing this.”
“Logan, I love you. I wanted to make sure you knew that.”
Logan’s eyes softened with a vulnerability only reserved for you. “I don’t deserve someone as wonderful as you, sweetheart, but I'll keep trying.”
Your hands came up to gently hold Logan’s face. “You deserve everything, James, including me." You pulled him in for a brief kiss. “Happy anniversary, honey.”
"Happy anniversary, sweetheart.”
#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlet x reader#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett x female!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x mutant reader#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine fanfiction#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader
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Hit My Line—Fratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summary— you and nicholas are on thanksgiving break away from each other so he hits your line for help in his time of need.
warnings— switch!nicholas, L bombs, fluff, phone sex, male and female masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, degrading kink.
a/n— happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate but be careful with the turkeys, the men are fucking them apparently <3
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿
This was the longest stretch you would ever be away from Nicholas, and every minute would seem to drag. But as you pulled away from the college campus, you turned back to reassure him, fighting the tears in your eyes.
“It’s just a few days, baby. You’ll see me soon,” you whispered softly, trying to ease the ache in his heart. “And if there’s anything—anything at all—hit my line.”
His voice was thick with emotion, but he nodded, a soft smile breaking through his sadness. "I’ll miss you so much."
The few hours apart felt unbearable, even though they weren’t even a full day. As soon as you arrived home, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas:
“I miss you already. I can’t stand being away from you. I just want to hold you.”
You smiled, typing out a quick reply: “I miss you too, baby. We’ll be back together before you know it.”
Thanksgiving morning came, and you woke up with a yawn, your phone ringing beside you before you even had the chance to fully roll out of bed, his name flashed across the screen. You smiled, picking up.
“Happy Thanksgiving to my incredible girlfriend,” Nicholas beamed over the phone, his voice warm and full of affection.
“Good morning, baby,” you whispered, your heart fluttering. “Happy Thanksgiving to you too.”
“I'm so thankful for you,” he said, his tone deepening. "You mean everything to me, I love you.”
The words hit you like a wave. It was the first time he'd said it though he had showed it in other ways, and the tears that threatened to well up in your eyes couldn’t be held back. “I love you too,” you said, voice cracking.
“I didn’t mean to make you cry, baby,” he cooed. “I’m just so glad I have you.”
You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself. “It’s okay. I’m just so thankful for you too. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.”
He chuckled softly. “I miss you so much, and Mom wishes you were here with us for Thanksgiving. I really want you to be a part of the family.”
“I promise, next time,” you said, wiping away your final tear. “Tell her we’ll make it happen.”
You both hung up after a few more heartfelt words, and as the day went on, you spent time with your family. But your thoughts often drifted to Nicholas. The love between you felt so deep, even with the miles separating you.
That night, you made sure to text him. “How’s Thanksgiving going, baby?”
His reply came quickly: “Great, but I have a bit of a problem, I’ll tell you about it later.”
Concerned, you quickly typed back: “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, don’t worry. It’s nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about later, when we’re alone.”
You smiled, having an idea of exactly what he meant.
After a while, when your family was settled and you were tucked into your childhood room, your phone buzzed. It was Nicholas, his voice lower than usual.
“Hey, baby,” he said, sounding a little—off.
“Hey, sweetheart. What’s the problem you were talking about? You’ve got me worried.”
He took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well—uh, to be honest, I’ve been really horny all day,” he admitted with a slight laugh. “And I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt a surge of heat at his confession. “How can you be thinking about that when you're with your family?” you teased lightly, but there was something about the way he said it that sent a shiver down your spine.
He hesitated for a moment, before confessing, “I don't know, I just—I’ve been thinking about you nonstop. I wish you were here.”
You let out a soft laugh, heart racing. “Well, baby, what do you want to do about it?”
There was a brief silence on the other end, and then he whispered, “I’ve never done this before, but I wanna try phone sex. I’ve heard the guys in the frat talk about it, and I don’t know—I just really need you.”
“I’m down if you are, baby,”you said softly, feeling your body react. “But I don’t have my vibrator with me.”
Nicholas chuckled. “Well, I don’t have anything but my hand, but that’s enough as long as I hear your voice.”
Your breath hitched, and you could practically feel the tension between you two building on the phone. “I think that’ll do just fine,” you said, a teasing smile playing at your lips.
“Wait fuck, I forgot I had facetime, wanna switch?” he suggested.
You hung up immediately and called him on facetime, a small smirk on his face. There he was in all his glory, hair messy, shirtless with just his pajama bottoms on and his hard dick printing.
You had your bonnet on, bare faced and draped in a silk, two piece pajamas. “You look beautiful,” he said, admiring you as the red of your LED lights lit up your face, “the red lights are fitting.”
He propped up a pillow in front of him, skillfully angling the phone so that you could see his entire body. He was gorgeous as always, the dim light cascading over his shirtless body, his abs, his pecs, those fucking biceps. You wanted him on top of you crushing you. He was built like a Greek God.
You did the same, propping up the pillow and angling the phone so he could see your figure.
“You’re so fucking beautiful baby,” he grunted, bucking his hips. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against his pajamas.
“Tell me all the things you want to do to me baby,” you whispered, just loud enough so he could hear over the phone.
Nicholas pulled down his bottoms, his hard cock springing out, the sight made you bite your lips as you stared at his body through the phone screen.
His hand slid down his chest, teasingly close to where he was already hard, and your breath caught in your throat. “God, I miss that body,” you breathed, your voice a little shaky.
Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his lips curling into a smile as he ran his fingers over his abs. “You like what you see, baby?” he asked, his voice husky, each word slow and deliberate. “You’re driving me crazy here. I’m so hard for you, you have no idea.”
You shivered at his words, “I think you’re forgetting who has the real power here,” you teased, your smile playful yet full of the same heat that you felt building between you both.
He let out a low laugh, clearly appreciating your confidence. “You know you’re just as beautiful as always,” he said, his eyes never leaving you. “I can’t stop imagining the way you’d feel with me inside you right now.”
You grinned, “Is that so? I think I could help you with that. If only you were here.”
“I’d be all over you,” he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand moved lower again, teasing his cock, though he didn’t touch fully. “I’d show you just how much I miss you.”
You bit your lip, unable to stop your pulse from quickening as his voice made the moment feel even more intimate. “If I were, I’d make sure you never wanted to leave me again.”
Nicholas groaned softly. “You’re playing with me, aren’t you?” His eyes flickered as his breath quickened, clearly lost in the moment. “You’re making me wish we weren’t miles apart right now.”
You smiled, a sense of power blooming within you as you responded, “Trust me, baby. I’d make it worth your while.”
You pulled off your satin pajama top, revealing your boobs, your nipples hard. Your hands went to them groping them as you bit your lip.
“Fuck, keep doing that baby, grope those fucking tits for me,” he moaned, his hands now stroking his painfully hard cock.
“I wish you were here to do it for me baby, I love the way your tongue flicks my nipples,” you said.
Your hand went down your abdomen and you heard Nicholas moaned, his movements speeding up. Swiftly, you slipped off your shorts and your panties, your pussy glistening in the light.
“Fucking hell baby, I’m gonna be so fucking deep inside that wet pussy when I see you,” he gasped, his hand moving to caress his balls.
“I’m gonna ride that cock so good, make you cum deep inside me.” You moved your fingers to collect the wetness onto your fingers before rubbing your clit. Your back arched off the bed and you did what you could to make sure you moans were soft enough so only Nicholas could hear.
“Fuck, I need that so bad right now baby, keep rubbing that clit, tell me more.” He spread his pre cum on the tip, a sweet whimper leaving his lips as his body shuddered.
“I want you to choke me while you fuck me, hard while you tell me how much of a slut I am,” you murmured, rubbing your clit in rough circles.
“I can do that baby, I can tell you how much of a dirty slut you are, fuck, you’re such a slut right now for doing this with me,” he said. The words uttering his lips were foreign to him, he was more inclined to have you do the degrading and taking the lead—unless you asked of course.
“Oh— baby, I wish you were here to fuck me hard from behind, I know how much you love this ass slapping against you,” you breathed out, your efforts speeding up, you were right on edge.
“Make sure you keep that same fucking energy when I see you, ���cause I’ll be the one in control,” he said, tilting his head back slightly as his eyes averted to your fingers moving between your legs and his hand wrapped firmly around his cock, “you see how fast I’m stroking this hard fucking cock? That’s how fast I’ll be fucking you.”
“Baby, I think I’m gonna cum, can I cum for you?” you asked, now slipping your fingers inside your pussy.
“N-not yet, take those fingers out and put them in your mouth and then fuck yourself with them again,” he demanded, stroking his cock even faster now, “then I want you groping your tits.”
You did as you were told, bringing your dripping fingers up to your mouth and moaning around them as you savored your own tasted. Your hand went to your boobs, groping them as you imagined they were Nicholas’ large hands. As you did, you slipped your fingers back into your pussy, the sound of squelching the only thing that could be heard apart from your boyfriend’s breathy moans on facetime.
“Fuck, be a good fucking girl and cum for me, cum for me baby,” he gasped.
“Oh, Nicholas,” you moaned, your back arching from the bed as you finger fucked your pussy. Your juices spurted from you, coating your phone screen and the pillow in front of you. You moved your fingers to your clit, rubbing and guiding yourself through your orgasm, trying your best to quiet your breathy moans.
“Fucking hell baby, you’re so hot, squirting like that—shit, oh God, I’m gonna cum, can I cum baby? Please, I’m your good boy, I wanna cum for you,” he gasped, his body trembling as his hands moved quickly up and down his shaft.
“Cum for me baby, let me see that load all over your hand for me,” you uttered, groping your boobs as you watched him through the phone.
You got more than what you bargained for as Nicholas came all over his hand and even more so on his abdomen. “F-fuck baby, that was so hot,” he moaned breathily.
You both took a moment, panting as you stared at each other, your naked bodies rising and falling.
“I really enjoyed that baby,” you smiled, “shit, my screen’s all messed up.”
He laughed, rubbing his cum all over his abdomen, “I enjoyed that even more sweetheart, but now we gotta get cleaned up and you need your beauty rest.”
“Well, I guess this is goodbye until I call you next morning?” you giggled.
“No problem baby, I love you so much, never forget that and I miss you so much, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.
“I love you too Nick, I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll see you soon.”
#fratboy!nicholas chavez x reader#fratboy!nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez x black reader#fratboy!nicholas#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#nicholas chavez fanfiction#nicholas chavez x reader smut#nicholas chavez fluff#nicholas chavez fic#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez icons#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez au#frat boy#nicholas chavez x fem!reader#nicholas chavez x female reader#nicholas chavez x you#nicholas chavez x y/n#nicholas chavez x poc!reader#father charlie mayhew x reader smut#father charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew#charlie mayhew smut#grotesquerie#grotesquerie smut#black reader#black writers#nick chavez
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Long one shot for Jealous!Toto Wolff with wife reader. With how many celebrities and famous people at the Las Vegas GP, it's no wonder how many times she has been hit. Toto and their son, Jack saved her. Fluff/suggestive. Anything, I don't mind. Thanks!! :)
With prompts : Are you jealous?” “No, I’m not!” “Oh, you really are jealous! Wait, why would you be jealous?”, "I trust you, I just don't trust them." & “Jealousy doesn’t suit you. I like to see you smile more.”
Pairing: Toto Wolff x Reader
i loved writing this fic!! i have a serieus one coming out soon with a rather similar plot just more angst it is toto based!!
Jealous!Toto Wolff - One-Shot
The bright lights of the Las Vegas Grand Prix shimmered like a thousand stars on the Strip, illuminating the desert night sky as the paddock buzzed with excitement. The air was filled with the sound of revving engines, the chatter of celebrities, and the occasional laughter of fans mingling with drivers and team members. But for you, the night had started to feel overwhelming, your patience tested by more than one unwelcome encounter.
You had come to the race with your husband, Toto Wolff, and your young son, Jack. The plan had been simple: enjoy the thrill of the race, soak in the electric atmosphere, and have a good time with the family. But as you wandered the paddock, admiring the sleek cars and waving to some of the familiar faces in the crowd, the attention you were receiving started to feel less flattering and more intrusive.
It wasn’t uncommon for people to approach you—many of them were fans of Toto, or simply curious about the wife of the Mercedes team principal—but tonight, with the who’s who of the celebrity world filling the stands and the paddock, it seemed like everyone wanted a piece of you.
It started innocuously enough. A few polite conversations, quick photo ops with fans, the usual pleasantries. But soon, it became clear that a few of these “fans” weren’t as well-meaning as they appeared. A touch on the arm here, a lingering gaze there—nothing outright inappropriate, but enough to make you feel uncomfortable. And when you tried to escape back to the hospitality area, a certain well-known actor had greeted you with a lingering kiss on the cheek that, while nothing more than friendly in appearance, sent an uncomfortable chill down your spine.
It was at that exact moment that Toto appeared. His sharp eyes, usually so focused on the race, were now locked onto the scene before him with an intensity that made your stomach flutter—though not in a good way. He was standing by the entrance of the hospitality suite, his gaze fixed on the interaction, his posture stiff and controlled.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice calm but with an edge you had never heard before.
You nodded, attempting to brush it off. “It’s fine, Toto. Just… a lot going on tonight, you know?”
His eyes narrowed, and he took a few steps forward, the crowd seemingly parting for him as if they could sense the subtle shift in his demeanor. He turned to the actor, his expression cold and polite. “Excuse me,” Toto said, his voice flat and even. “I’m afraid my wife is not interested in further conversation.”
The actor blinked, startled by the sudden intervention, and gave a half-hearted smile before backing off, muttering something under his breath.
As the actor walked away, you felt the warmth of Toto’s hand on your lower back, a gesture meant to reassure but also to stake a claim. You glanced up at him, catching the faintest flicker of something in his eyes—something between possessiveness and concern.
“Toto, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, trying to lighten the mood. “I was fine.”
His expression didn’t soften. “Are you sure? Because it didn’t look like you were fine.”
“I’m fine,” you reassured him, offering a small smile.
He didn’t return the smile. Instead, he took a deep breath and spoke slowly, as if carefully choosing his words. “I trust you. I just don’t trust them.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “Wait, why would you be jealous? It was just a kiss on the cheek.”
Toto’s lips pressed together in a tight line. “Jealous? Me?” He raised an eyebrow, as though the idea was ridiculous, but the tension in his voice betrayed him. “No, I’m not jealous.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe a little. But only because I don’t like how they treat you.”
Before you could respond, Jack appeared, holding a toy car in his hands and grinning from ear to ear. His innocence broke the tension in the air, and Toto’s stern expression softened. He crouched down, scooping Jack up and planting a kiss on his cheek.
“Are you having fun?” Toto asked, his tone much lighter now.
“Yeah, yeah! It’s so cool here, Daddy!” Jack exclaimed, looking between you and his father. “But I think Mummy’s getting bored.”
You chuckled, even as you shot a playful glare at Toto. “I’m not bored, Jack.”
But Toto wasn’t letting it go. “I think you need a break,” he said, glancing at you with an unreadable expression. “You’ve been dealing with a lot tonight. How about we get some privacy? Just the three of us. We can go back to the hotel, away from all this madness.”
His suggestion caught you off guard, but it was exactly what you needed. A moment to breathe, to relax, to remember why you were here in the first place: for each other. And maybe, just maybe, Toto needed a little time away from the chaos too.
Later that evening, after the race had ended and the crowds had dispersed, Toto had whisked you and Jack away to a luxurious suite in one of the quieter corners of the Strip. The moment you stepped inside, the world felt miles away. The chaos of the paddock, the glittering distractions of celebrity and competition—none of that mattered now. It was just the three of you.
You sank onto the plush sofa, feeling the weight of the day lifting off your shoulders. Jack immediately jumped into your lap, grinning as he showed off the race car he had “won” from one of the games in the paddock.
Toto, still standing by the door, watched the two of you with a soft, almost tender smile, his earlier frustration completely dissipated. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you, you know,” you teased, leaning back into the cushions and catching his eye. “I like to see you smile more.”
Toto’s smile grew, but there was still a playful edge to it. “I’m smiling now,” he said, walking toward you. “And I don’t want to see anyone make you feel uncomfortable again. You’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”
You laughed softly, reaching for his hand as he sat beside you. “Toto, we’ve been together for years. You know I’m not going anywhere.”
He squeezed your hand, the unspoken words between you both speaking volumes. “I know. But I still don’t like the idea of anyone else thinking they can have you.”
You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Well, they can think whatever they want. But the only person who gets to be close to me, in every way, is you.”
Toto’s smile turned into a grin, and he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “Good,” he whispered, resting his chin on top of your head. “That’s the way I like it.”
There was a long, comfortable silence between you, the kind that only true intimacy can bring. Toto leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your lips, the kind of kiss that spoke more of reassurance and love than anything else. When he pulled back, his eyes softened, and you could see the shift in him—the guard he’d been holding up for so long had finally come down.
“You know,” he murmured, his fingers brushing your cheek as he traced a gentle line along your jaw, “you’ve always been the one to make me smile the most. But tonight… tonight you’ve made me feel like the luckiest man in the world.”
A blush crept up your neck, and you ducked your head, feeling a flutter in your chest. “Stop, Toto,” you whispered with a shy smile, but your heart was racing, his words making you feel cherished in ways you hadn’t expected after a long, chaotic day.
He grinned and kissed the top of your head. “I’m serious. You’re everything to me. And I just want you to know… no matter what happens, you’re the only one I care about.”
You looked up at him, your heart swelling. “And I’m the only one who’ll ever have you,” you said softly, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingers.
Toto’s grin softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you—no words, just that quiet understanding that had always been the foundation of your relationship. His lips hovered over yours again, but this time, instead of kissing you immediately, he lingered, savoring the closeness.
“Let’s not think about the world outside for a while,” he whispered. “Just us. Here. Together.”
You nodded, a sense of peace settling over you as his lips finally met yours, slow and deliberate. The kiss deepened, and in that moment, everything else faded away—the buzzing, the noise, the world outside your hotel suite. There was just him, and you, and the soft, perfect rhythm of the love you shared.
As you pulled back, Toto’s fingers gently traced the line of your collarbone. “We need more moments like this,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate.
“Then let’s make them,” you replied, smiling up at him, knowing that no matter how chaotic life could get, moments like this—just the two of you—were the ones that would always matter most.
In the quiet of the hotel room, the two of you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms.
#f1 imagine#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#formula one#toto wolff x y/n#toto wolff x reader#toto wolff#toto wolff fic#fluffy#toto#toto wolff fanfic#mercedes amg f1
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Thanksgiving with the Barbers
Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader
Word Count: ~3.4k
Summary: You and Andy celebrate Thanksgiving. Part of the Trapped AU.
Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, references to punishment, isolation, solitary confinement, hunger, negative self-talk, manipulation, angst, mental breakdown - This is a rough one, guys. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
Dividers by @strangergraphics
Masterlist
A/N: So... remember this part from I Don't Want a Lot for Christmas?
"Don’t you want this Christmas to be better than Thanksgiving?” It took everything in you not to grimace. You still felt the marks from what he’d done to you after Thanksgiving dinner.
Yeah. This is that Thanksgiving.
Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who read so much of this and always encourages me to go as dark as my twisted little heart desires.
Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! ��
Andy’s soft murmurs traveled down the hallway to you from the entryway as he said goodbye to his guests. You couldn’t tell how things had gone. He’d seemed happy enough but as he’d started introducing you to his life outside these walls, you’d learned quickly how easily he could have one face for the world and a different one for you. He’d stressed many times all week how important it was that your first holiday together be perfect. Was it? Had you done enough?
You busied yourself with cleaning up the dining room, trying to ignore the churning dread in your stomach. The leftover turkey, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables had already been moved to the kitchen, waiting to be put away in the fridge. Then you’d start on the endless dishes. Hopefully, that would buy you some time alone, while Andy went back to the football on TV.
You kept your head down and continued gathering the discarded plates as Andy’s heavy footsteps came down the hall. He entered the dining room and leaned against the old-fashioned buffet that took over one wall, his arms crossed over his chest. You felt his eyes on you, but you kept your own eyes down and didn’t say anything. You knew better now.
You had a tall stack of plates now that you wanted to take into the kitchen, but you were afraid of turning your back on him and leaving the room. So, you stood where you were, and you waited.
Finally, he cleared his throat. You looked up. “You were awfully quiet at dinner,” he said, softly, but there was an edge of steel in his tone.
“No, I–” you started and immediately regretted it. That was a bad word. “I just didn’t have much to add to the conversation.” The guests were all Andy’s colleagues and their spouses. It’d been too much shop talk to keep track of. On top of being so many more people than you were used to.
Andy made a thoughtful little hum before he continued. “Barbara commented on it, as she said goodbye. Wanted to be sure you were ok, hadn’t felt left out.”
You forced a smile, trying to stop your hands from shaking. “Yes, I’m fine. I had a nice time. It was a good dinner.”
He pushed himself off of the buffet, straightening to his full height. “Really, you thought it was a good dinner? With a dry turkey and an unfriendly hostess?”
You couldn’t help the way you blanched. You’d never cooked a whole turkey before or anything like it. And you didn’t have access to the internet right now, so you were limited to the highbrow cookbooks Andy had bought for you. While those recipes were detailed, they didn’t exactly have tips and tricks for beginners. You’d tried your best. And no one at dinner had complained. Everyone seemed to enjoy it. You’d thought it was ok. But he didn’t want to hear you defend yourself, so you said nothing.
He looked at the dirty dishes spread across the table and scowled. “Finish cleaning this up,” he said. “We’ll continue this conversation when you’re done.”
You nodded quickly with a quiet, “Yes, Andy,” trying to keep your sigh of relief inside. He hadn’t said you’d continue the conversation downstairs, hadn’t said anything about a timeout or a punishment. You might be ok. You might get off with just a lecture. You could handle an upstairs lecture—kneeling at Andy’s feet while he listed all the ways you’d disappointed him and everything you needed to do to be better. Sometimes you even got to stay fully clothed. Lectures were fine. Lectures were easy. As long as you got to stay upstairs, you’d be ok.
Without another word, he moved into the kitchen. You heard him opening and closing the fridge as you continued organizing the dishes into neat stacks to hopefully make cleaning up a little easier. He came back with a beer in his hand, moving through to the living room to watch the evening game. As he started to walk by the table, the movement drew your eye to something, his reflection caught in the shiny steel. The carving knife. Just lying there next to the turkey.
The knife block had sensors in it, just like all the doors downstairs or the front door of the house. You had to scan your wristband every time you needed to use a knife while cooking and it would send an alert to Andy’s phone, letting him know whenever you used one, for how long, and when you put it back. But the carving knife, he’d taken that out himself today. As the man of the house, he had to be the one to carve the turkey. And then he’d just left it there, forgotten about it. The carving knife.
As you stood there, staring at it, it was like all of the parts of yourself he’d worked so hard to turn off, suddenly came roaring back on. How much you hated the dress you currently wore. How exhausted you were after working in the kitchen all day without a single thank you. The lecture that you knew awaited you, being forced to kneel at his feet. All of your own holiday traditions that had been stolen from you so that you could accommodate his. Everything he’d taken from you. The rage bubbling up inside of you was cleansing. You felt it giving you new breath, new life. You felt yourself coming back.
You looked up at Andy as he continued to move, his back to you now. That perfect, broad expanse. You could see it so clearly. The way you’d bury that knife between his shoulder blades. You lunged across the table.
Andy spun around as soon as he heard you move, his bottle of beer slipping from his hand, it’s contents spilling everywhere. Somehow, in that instant, he saw what you were grasping for and lunged for it too. Oh god, he was so much closer to it. You'd timed it all wrong. You were stupid in your desperation and anger. Oh well. You'd already made the choice. There was no turning back now.
You threw yourself onto the table, arm outstretched, dirty plates beneath you, just as his hand wrapped around the handle of the knife. You let out a guttural scream as he threw it away from you and it clattered against the baseboards.
A beat too late, you tried to crawl backward, your knees struggling for purchase on the tablecloth, plates crashing to the floor, but Andy had already grabbed your still outstretched arm, dragging you towards him as you flailed, trying and failing to grab onto anything that might help you.
He pulled you over the edge of the table and you fell to the floor, landing harshly in a jumble, more plates falling around you. He loomed over you, face completely overtaken by rage. But it couldn’t compare to yours. You kicked out wildly, indiscriminately and you’d never felt more satisfied than when you landed a few hits to his shins and he grunted in pain. Your satisfaction was short-lived, however, as he recovered and reached down to wrap his hands around both your wrists, even as you struggled as hard as you could to get away from him.
He didn’t say a word as he dragged you across the floor. That was fine. You had no problem filling the silence. “You fucking motherfucker!” you screamed, the frustration and terror and anger of the last several months finally finding an outlet. “I hate you! I’m gonna kill you! I’m gonna burn this house to the fucking ground!”
Your struggles kicked up a notch as he opened the door to the basement with one hand, the other now holding on to both of your wrists. “No!” you yelled. “You can’t fucking do this! I’m done pretending to be your perfect little wife! You can’t–”
He wasn’t gentle at all as he yanked you down the stairs. You had to pause your fighting and screaming as you fell, the breath knocked out of you. You tried to protect your head, tried to protect any part of your body you could as you hit every step. Your dress did nothing to help as it gathered above your waist. You were exposed and vulnerable. But what else was new? You were immune to it now, after being debased every single day for months.
He paused at the bottom of the stairs to adjust his hold on you, using both hands to drag you again. Still, he said nothing. But you caught your breath and resumed your litany of hate. “You’re so fucking weak. You’re pathetic. Of course, you had to buy a wife. Who would love you willingly?” The carpet burned your skin as he dragged you across it, but you continued to struggle, continued to scream. Nothing would stop you now. “You’re disgusting. Embarrassing.”
He stopped in front of the door to the quiet room and you almost laughed. Did he really think this was just some little tantrum a time-out would fix? Did he really not understand the rage and power that flowed through you now? Did he really think a few hours in the dark would quell this? No way. After everything you’d been through, everything you felt now, you could handle the quiet room.
He threw you in and closed the door behind you. You sank down into the darkness. This was fine. This was great. The darkness couldn’t hurt you.
You’d forgotten what it was like to have no understanding of the passage of time. It’d been hours. It had to have been hours. Right?
He would come get you soon. What would you do then? Attack him as best you could. The rage still coursed through you. You were done laying down for him.
It must be getting late. It’d already been evening when the guests left. You were so tired now. Exhausted. But you had to be ready when Andy opened the door.
You startled awake as the furnace whirred to life. You were slumped over against the wall, your face pushed into the cinder block. It felt grimy.
You didn’t remember falling asleep. How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Where was Andy? Whatever tenuous grasp you’d had on what time it was was completely gone now. That was ok. Andy would come soon and you’d beat the shit out of him, and then you would know what time it was.
It was the hunger that hit you first, but the thirst hit you harder. You knew now that this was the longest he’d ever left you here. You’d never gone hungry like this before. Well. He would let you out soon. He had to.
Your stomach hurt with how hungry you were. Your throat ached. Would he just let you die down here? Was he that angry? So angry that he’d decided to cut his losses. Start over with someone new. Was starving to death better than your life upstairs? Or the basement? You honestly didn’t know.
You were sprawled across the floor, as much as you could in the small space. What was the point of being upright? You could barely even tell which way was up anymore. It was all just darkness.
Suddenly, you were hit by a sliver of blinding light. What was happening? It took you embarrassingly long to realize it must have been a slot in the door you’d never seen before. Then something slid through it. You blinked at it, trying to get your eyes to focus, trying to make sense of what you saw. Oh my god, it was food! You lunged for it and tried to pull the tray to you, but it wouldn’t budge. That was better anyway. You needed the light to eat.
On the tray was a small plate of leftover turkey and green beans and a bottle of water, along with a small plastic fork. You went for the water first, downing it, and then scarfed up the food, not even tasting it. After a few minutes, on the other side of the slot, you heard an alarm go off, and the tray was pulled back, a few bites still on the plate. “Andy, wait!” you called out, but the slot slammed closed and you were in the dark again.
You didn’t have anything to do. You couldn’t remember the last time you had nothing to do. Before Andy brought you here. Evenings in your little apartment, watching TV and eating takeout, fucking around on your phone. You hadn’t done that, hadn’t even thought about doing it in months.
When you first got here, when your list of chores felt insurmountable and ridiculous, you would’ve given anything for the chance to lay around and do nothing. But now, it didn’t feel right. You should find a way to be productive. Andy was going to be so disappointed in you.
You hated yourself for thinking it.
You tried to do some yoga. You were so stiff from laying on the floor, but it was too hard when you couldn’t see how much space you had and were too scared of hurting yourself on the furnace or hitting the wall. So you went back to doing nothing.
The worst thing about waking up in this room was that you had no memory of falling asleep. It was all just darkness. Maybe there was no real difference between sleeping and being awake. How could you even tell anymore?
Andy brought another meal. Well, you assumed it was him. There was no one else. But you didn’t see him. He didn’t say anything. The tray was pushed through the slot, you ate and drank as fast as you could, the tray was pulled away. You didn’t say anything to him either.
You were so fucking bored. You’d tried singing to yourself. Running through old movies you remembered watching on TV as a kid. Reciting passages from old books. You felt like you were running out of thoughts.
There’d been three meals. If you could count the meals, that was sort of like keeping track of time, right? Even though you had no idea how often he brought them. Still, it had to be something.
The furnace was going to drive you insane. That whirring, whirring, whirring. White noise that wouldn’t stop. So loud you were afraid that the noise was just inside your head now. Maybe the furnace wasn’t even on.
“Andy,” you called out when the slot opened. “Andy, please.” He didn’t say anything. He never said anything.
The timer must have gone off sooner this time. The tray was pulled back when you were only halfway done. You started crying as the slot started to slide closed. Your stomach felt too empty.
You realized your mistake after he was gone. You had to call him sir when you were in the basement.
You started talking to yourself. Just to hear your voice. Any voice. You didn’t have anything to say, but you just couldn’t deal with the silence.
It wasn’t worth it. You saw that so clearly now. What did you really think you’d gain? You were never going to kill him. You couldn’t even hurt him. You were never going to win and you’d lost even more by trying.
You couldn’t remember whether there’d been six or seven meals. You’d lost count. And they were all the same. Nothing differentiated them. There was nothing to hold on to. This was the one thing tethering you to anything real and you’d lost it. There was no getting it back. You didn’t know how long you’d been crying.
He was tired of you. He was done. He was the only thing you had in the whole world and you’d lost him. You’d fucked it up. You were going to rot away in the Quiet Room until you were nothing. There was no getting out.
You crawled over to the slot when it opened and put your head right in front of it, keeping your eyes closed to avoid the burn of the light. “Sir,” you pleaded, your voice raspy, “sir, please. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, sir. Please.” You were crying. You couldn't stop. You couldn't hide it.
He paused before he pushed the tray through, but he didn't say anything.
You were lying on the floor, trying to figure out whether you were awake or dreaming when everything was suddenly bathed in light. You must be dreaming. Oh, but would a dream hurt so much? You rolled onto your stomach and curled up in a ball to try to shield your eyes from the light. Wake up wake up wake up, you chanted to yourself.
And then– Then, as you were curling up, tighter and tighter, on the floor, someone touched you, lightly, gently on your back. When was the last time you’d been touched? You didn’t know. You started crying, even as you pressed up into the soft caress.
“Oh sweetheart,” someone said. An angel. But wait. You knew that voice. “Look at you,” Andy said, “we’ve both had a rough few days, huh?”
You slowly rolled back over, wincing harshly at the light. There he was, crouching over you. You squinted at him, trying to make out his features. You started to sit up, but it ached to use your muscles that way.
He reached out a hand to help you. “Go slow, honey,” he said, and his voice was so gentle. “Give yourself a minute to adjust.”
“Sir?” you rasped. Was he really here?
“Hi sweetheart,” he cooed, as he carefully pulled you into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“How–” you blinked up at him, feeling so disoriented. “How long?”
“Too long,” he answered sadly. “But we both needed time to calm down, didn’t we?”
He stroked your back, and you whimpered. It felt so good. You’d been alone for so long. You nuzzled into his chest, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t– I shouldn’t have– I don’t know. I’m so sorry. I didn’t understand. Please forgive me.”
“Oh honey,” he sighed. You wished that you could drink up his gentle voice after so much silence. “I know. I know. It was a hard day. I understand. I’ll forgive you. After your punishment, it’ll be like it didn’t even happen.”
“Punishment?” you looked at him in horror. “But– This– I–” You’d already been through so much. How could there be more?
“Sweetheart,” he said, his voice picking up a firm edge. “This was just a little timeout. For both of us. So that we could both calm down and think about what happened. You know I never want to punish you when I’m angry.”
“But I’m sorry,” you cried, grasping at his shirt. You didn’t think you could handle a punishment. You were afraid you’d break into a million pieces in that room.
“You tried to hurt me.” All of the gentleness was gone now. “You have to be punished so you learn.”
You barely nodded as you curled up in his arms, crying quietly. You’d been so stupid. So, so stupid. It was such a mistake.
“I’ll tell you what, honey.” His hand resumed its stroking, up and down, up and down your back. So gently. “If you’re very good for me, if you take your punishment like a good girl, then we can go right back upstairs when it’s done. We won’t have to spend any more time down here.”
“Really?” You’d been so afraid that you’d doomed yourself to months down in the basement again, even worse than before.
“Really. Neither of us wants to be down here, do we? We both want to be happy upstairs, don’t we?”
“Yes, sir. Please, please. I’ll be good. I’ll be a good girl.”
“I know you will be, sweetheart. Let’s go get it over with, huh? Then we can take a nice long bath to get all this grime off of you. Can you move? Can you get up?”
“Yes, sir,” you mumbled into his chest, but you didn’t make any effort to move. Not yet. You wanted to savor this for a few more moments. You knew that as soon as you got into the punishment room, all of the gentleness would be gone. He’d be the figure from your nightmares again. And you knew you deserved it. You were so stupid. But you needed a couple more minutes of his soft touches before you’d be ready.
Tag List
@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23 @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki @spiderwebbedhearts
#dark andy barber#dark!andy barber#andy barber x reader#andy barber x you#andy barber x female reader#andy barber#trapped au#trapped#defending jacob#basement wife au#dark fic#dark!fic#fanfic#chris evans characters#chris evans fanfiction#kris wrote something#reader insert#andy barber fanfiction
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The thing about not sharing images that haven't been shared by the players reminds me of the video of Alexia in the green sweatshirt with a grumpy face at a party. I've wanted to make memes of that video but I don't know where it came from and judging by Alexia's face I don't think it was in her plans for that video to be public
well, you've raised a complicated ethical question about social media here. because what does private and public actually mean? and how far within a player's family and friends is it acceptable to post? and this is not just about alexia, but this is applicable to any footballer out there!
it's one thing to share posts from a player's immediately family members with a public profile (like alba putellas but not from eli who is private!) and from behind the scenes/promos from ads/brands (like from alexia's stylist).
however, when we are talking about alexia's or any player's friends, they are regular people. they are not footballers nor are they other types of celebrities. many of them had open profiles and then went private when they saw fans follow them and interact with them. i have seen fans posting from these private profiles which they shouldn't do.
a few of them still have 'open' profiles. but are we really stalking alexia's circle of friends and friends of friends to post photos of her? that's crossing the line, in my opinion. and just because a friend of hers has an 'open' profile, i don't think we should take advantage because that has forced a lot of her friends to change their interactions altogether.
finally, another thing that happens is that someone downloads a private photo to share within their group of friends via a whatsapp group or something and it makes its way online. don't download it in the first place! 🙄
ultimately, it's up to you to come up with your own set of ethical rules, but keep in mind that players don't owe us anything and that they are still people with family and friends and we shouldn't take advantage of that! 🙏🙏
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Note on the story. I called these lab rats lab babies because they were raised in the lab, and are a little better cared for than rats.
Happy Thanksgiving to those celebrating. If you are not celebrating for whatever reason that you have a great day. -MJ
"D-do we get special food today sir?", Whumpee eagerly followed Whumper down the hall to Test Room 2.
"Hmm.. special food? What are you implying my dear?", Whumper looked over their shoulder to see Whumpee, "why would you get special food? I'm not testing anything with your diets right now."
"Oh, uhm... you told us about this thing where tables of food are set out. All you have to say is something you are thankful for and you get a lot of food", Whumpee eagerly walked in front of Whumper causing them to stop walking, "we were wondering if we could or maybe would have something like that. The past doctors never told us about this, though they never really talked to us anyways. You are the only one who has told us about stuff on the outside. We've never seen the outside world."
"Yes, all of you were born here in the lab.... I should say made here in the lab. The other doctors thought it would be best for you all to not know what you were missing. Plus, they didn't care to have a relationship with all of you", Whumper stepped forward, "come along, we have plenty of test to conduct, and little time to do so."
"Why did you tell us about the outside world then?", Whumpee followed.
"Why are you full of questions today?", Whumper frowned as they opened the door.
"I don't know. You say yourself a questioning mind is never bored. You haven't said no about the special food", Whumpee grinned.
"I haven't exactly said yes either my dear", Whumper grinned, "undress and climb on my table please."
Whumpee nodded and started to disrobe.
"I told all of you stories about the outside world so you can know and dream about what it looks like. Though Max thought the sky was purple until I took them outside to see that it was in fact blue", Whumper pulled out a step for Whumpee.
"Max went outside?", Whumpee looked up curiously.
"Yes, we had gotten into an argument about the sky. Max got the best of me, and I dragged them outside to prove it", Whumper sighed, "though looking back, that was probably a ploy to go outside. You were raised by scientists, so you are all quite smart."
Whumper reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of crackers. They took one out for themself, then offered the bag for Whumpee to take one.
Whumpee happily munched on the treat as Whumper started to their test.
Whumpee eagerly sat at the front of their cell. They looked up with sad puppy eyes as scientists and nurses walked past.
"Give it up Whumpee, it isn't going to happen', someone looked at them, "you look like a pitiful dog begging for scraps."
"He didn't say no though. I've been dreaming about this since Doctor told us about it", Whumpee watched as another nurse walked past.
"I've been hoping that we could try that uhm... something -mas. That would be really cool", Pipsqueak, the youngest of the lab babies spoke up, "I would love to have a toy like one of the ones I colored in the book Doctor gave me."
"I think you mean Christmas", Max spoke up.
Whumpee nodded.
The lights dimmed slightly, a sign that a new part of the day was starting.
Whumpee sighed and slipped back against the wall. Everyone who worked there was set to go to dinner. It would be a while before someone would walk past again.
"See, I told you. They will just come by later with our meal trays. All of which will contain our specific diet regimes", they looked at Whumpee sadly, "in the end, we are only property. You got yourself excited for nothing, and even a few of us got our hopes up because of you."
Whumpee looked down, "I just wanted to know what it was like.... to be... a.. normal person", they looked up awkwardly when the door opened.
"What's going on in here?", someone came into the hall where the lab babies were kept.
"Nothing sir.... just talking", Max spoke up when everyone else kept quiet.
"Oh?", Whumper turned to look over them all, "you know there is a pretty cool party happening a few rooms over. All the scientists, nurses, and doctors are there. Even maintenance, housekeeping, and, of course, the kitchen staff are there. We realized, though. An important group is missing from the party", Whumper leaned against the wall close to the button to release all of the lab babies at once, "I suppose it wouldn't be a real family meal without our babies present. Would any of you like to come join us for Thanksgiving?"
Everyone's hand shout out of the bars of their cells.
"I thought so", Whumper chuckled and reached to press the button.
"I want you all to follow me to the room. Once there, you will get with your respective nurse, who will help you get your food together. That way, your allergies and dietary needs are met", Whumper sighed.
Whumpee excitedly skipped to Whumper.
"Yes I will help you get your tray since you don't technically have a nurse right now", Whumper grinned.
"I knew you were doing something", Whumpee looked at them excitedly.
"Did you now?", Whumper chuckled, "I did say you were all smart. Come on now get into line."
The babies got into a single file line and looked up at Whumper.
"Very good. Come on, let's get some food", Whumper grinned.
Inside of the cafeteria, everyone went to their nurse and started to look at all of the food options.
Whumper carried a new tray to Whumpee.
"Do you see anything you like?", Whumper watched as Whumpee looked over the table.
"Everything", Whumpee whispered, "I've never seen so much food", Whumpee looked up, "Is this when we say what we are thankful for?", Whumpee looked at everyone's trays.
"You can if you like", Whumper smiled, "you can't have any of the cranberry sauce, it will have a negative effect on your medication. That's your only limitation, everything else is fair game."
"I'm thankful that you are in charge of the lab now. We've never had a doctor that cares about us like you do", Whumpee looked at Whumper with innocent eyes.
"Even when my tests hurt?", Whumper started to scoop out some food.
"Yes, some the tests hurt, but that is what we are here for. In the end, we know you care, even if it's a little", Whumpee smiled.
Whumper scooped a spoonful of everything Whumpee had pointed at. Their tray was heaping when they finally sat down.
"Now, do not feel like you need to eat all of this", Whumper looked over the group, "this is your first time deciding on what you want to eat, and I think all of you went a little overboard. Especially you Pipsqueak. That is a lot of potatoes. Just eat what you can."
All of the babies looked at each other's trays.
"Do we get to eat dessert too?", Max smirked.
"Let's see how you all do with dinner first. Then we can talk about dessert", Whumper chuckled.
Whumper checked in on the babies.
Everyone had fallen back from their trays and was laying on the floor.
"My what's happened here?", Whumper chuckled.
"So much food", Pipsqueak groaned.
"You were right. We over did it", Whumpee looked up sadly, "I can't eat another bite."
"Well, it was easy to see you guys overfilled your trays. I told everyone to let you do it though. I wanted all of you to enjoy your Thanksgiving dinner. The best way to do that was to be like everyone else and overindulge. We will serve dessert tomorrow for one of your treats so you won't miss out."
Everyone nodded, "thankyou Doctor", they said in unison.
The lab babies watched and listened as everyone gathered together and talked amongst their meals.
Whumper even pulled out a few games and toys for the group to play with. The nurses and scientists joined in with the activities.
Whumper led everyone back to their cell rooms.
The nurses helped get the overfilled lab babies ready for bed.
Whumper sat down next to Whumpee's bed and played with their hair for a few minutes.
"Did you enjoy your first Thanksgiving?"
Whumper's eyes gleamed happily as Whumpee nodded.
"How about the rest of you? Did we enjoy Thanksgiving?", Whumper called to the rest.
"Yes", everyone spoke in unison.
"I am so full", Pipsqueak peaked into Whumpee's cell then followed their nurse to their own cell.
"I'm glad everyone enjoyed", Whumper stood, "tomorrow is a day off for all of you, so you all get to relax. Sound like a fair deal?"
"Thankyou", Max called from their bed, "I don't know if I'd be able to move tomorrow."
"Well, goodnight to all of you", Whumper closed Whumpee's bars, "we will see all of you in the morning."
"I'm so happy we got to experience that", Whumpee whispered loudly after the door closed, "I'm so full, but that was amazing."
"It feels strange to be allowed to do this stuff. All of our lives have been in the dark. Having experiences like this feels so wrong", someone could be heard shuffling around their cell, "is this what it feels like to be a real human?"
"I don't know. I can imagine something like this wouldn't make some as excited as it has made us", Max spoke, "maybe it's just another day for some. I'm sure others didn't have a good day today and I'm sorry for them."
"I would love to have more potatoes tomorrow", Pipsqueak giggled.
"Doctor gave us a day off tomorrow even", Whumpee remembered, "I hope this doctor never leaves us. I don't know if we'd be lucky to get another doctor like him."
Everyone sighed happily.
"Well goodnight", Max rolled over to face the wall.
"Goodnight", everyone repeated.
Pipsqueak started to giggle.
"What's so funny Pipsqueak?", Whumpee whispered.
"I wonder if that means we will get to have Christmas", Pipsqueak whispered.
"Both of you go to bed", someone warned.
"Sorry", Pipsqueak and Whumpee giggled again, "Goodnight."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived
@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid
@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz
@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13
@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
@lumpofsand @watermeezer
@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains
@3-2-whump @risk606
@electrons2006 @paperprinxe
@whumprince @kaz-of-crows
@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94
@sausages-things @castiels-favorite-hunter
@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud
@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter
@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf
@thenormalestever @whatwhump
@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation
#whump community#happy thanksgiving#happy whumpsgiving#whump stuff#whump writing#whump ideas#whump scenario#whump#whumper#carewhumper#whumpee#lab whump#lab whumpee#lab rat whumpee#caretaking#oc#lab babies
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Howdy, I was wondering if you could do an eland x reader where you could do headcanons of them being parent If that's okay with you anyways have a lovely day
Hi there, thank you so much for sending! Love this cute idea. This ended up being about both pregnancy and parenthood, hope you don't mind! I got carried away lol.
It's not long after you and Eiland get married that you become pregnant. You two weren't really trying to prevent it from happening, totally open to the idea of raising a little one with such a beautiful community behind you and in such a beautiful place.
Elsie is the first one to realize that you were pregnant. Call it a sixth sense, but she pulls you aside after dinner at the manor one night and tells you that you have a special glow about you.
A few days later, Eiland wakes up to see you sick in the restroom and you go to Valen together to take a test.
When you two get the wonderful news, Eiland is nearly in tears and Valen has to hand him some tissues as he brings you into the deepest hug in the middle of the doctor's office.
Wanting to play it safe, you two only tell the immediate family at first. Adeline nearly screams with joy, while Elsie is happy but totally unsurprised.
The Baron and Baroness come all the way from the Capital to celebrate a new heir coming to the family. They shower you with lavish gifts and offer anything you could possibly want or need that wouldn't be readily available in Mistria.
They also offer to take you to a more well-known doctor in the Capital for your checkups, but you assure them that you have full confidence in Valen and know how much she cares about you, Eiland, and the little one.
Eiland dotes on you hand and foot during the pregnancy. He doesn't let you lift a finger, and is always concerned about your comfort. He'll spend any amount of money to make sure you have everything you need.
If he could, he'd keep you from working on the farm altogether and pay someone to help, but you insist that the exercise is good for you and the baby.
Eiland is so eager to impart all of his knowledge onto his child. He starts early by reading archeology books to the baby before you've even given birth. You don't mind, as it helps you fall asleep!
Eiland is incredibly compassionate to your pain as you carry the pregnancy. He'll massage your feet or rub oil on your stomach whenever you need.
When it's finally time for you to give birth, Eiland is supportive at each step and cries when the baby is finally put in your arms. You're so excited to see that the little one's hair is a beautiful shade of light pink, just like their father's.
Eiland is happy regardless of the gender of the baby. He just hopes that he can get them as excited in his interests as he is!
He'll happily give you breaks from taking care of the baby whenever you need a nap. He loves nothing more than sitting in a rocking chair with the baby close to his chest, while he reads some of his favorite books just as he did when they were still in your stomach.
He's an incredibly patient father. Raising his voice is just not something he's capable of doing, even when the baby begins to misbehave as they get older.
Honestly though, the baby would be quite well-mannered. They learn from the calm and studious nature of their father and aunt.
Eiland always wants to provide the best for his child and his wife, whether that means dressing you two in the finest clothing or assuring the baby receives the best education money can buy.
Eiland's favorite thing to do with his child is to take long walks through the museum, or to watch Errol work at the archeological dig site. By the time that baby is of speaking age, they can recite facts nearly as well as Eiland himself can!
You're surprised by how much the baby takes after their father. They eat up any sweets you make for them with equal enthusiasm as well.
When your little family visits the Capital, you love to tour the wonderful bakeries there and get so much joy from watching Eiland and your baby enjoy eating sweets together.
With Eiland as their father, the baby continues to grow up as a little intellectual, with a mild-mannered temperament, enthusiasm to learn about everything they can, and a kind heart.
#my writing#fields of mistria#fom#eiland#fields of mistria eiland#fom eiland#eiland x reader#eiland x farmer#fields of mistria eiland x reader#fom eiland x reader#fields of mistria eiland x farmer#fom eiland x farmer
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Tangled Hearts - Chapter One
Pairing: poly!wolfstar x reader
Summary: After years of isolating yourself from old school friends, you find yourself thrown back into their world after an invitation from Lily to celebrate her and James' recent engagement. As you, Sirius, and Remus reconnect, it becomes clear the chemistry between the three of you is as vibrant as it was at Hogwarts. Having been burned before, are you willing to let yourself trust them again?
Tags: drinking, no use of y/n, reader is nicknamed "fluffs," ignoring actual timelines and canon for storytelling reasons, reader is half blood, hidden relationships, wolfstar are closeted babies, ignoring peter bc he gives me the ick, reader is afab, reader wears makeup and can put her hair up
A/N: I am so so excited to be posting this fic. I don't think I've published anything since like 2017, but it has been really fun getting back into writing. I'm open to friendly feedback, ideas for the main story or any extras! I have a couple short extras I might write but please send me your thoughts and ideas! Enjoy!
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You weren’t a stranger to walking home alone on the cold, dark streets of London. Working a demanding Ministry job meant you often left work late. Due to the short distance home you often opted to travel on foot, preferring it to more magical methods of transport. While not unusual, this particular walk left you in low spirits. It was five past seven on a crisp Friday evening, and as the city bustled with life around you, a feeling of loneliness seated itself in your chest at the idea of returning to your empty apartment.
In the few years since you had left Hogwarts, the state of the Wizarding world—your world—had steadily grown darker. Coming from a half-Muggle, half-wizard household had always left you in a precarious position. You were grateful for your stable position at the Ministry, working in the Muggle Relations Office, it provided a small sense of security. That was one of the things you missed most about being at Hogwarts: the stability. When you were inside the castle walls, it had felt like nothing could harm you. You would always be warm, fed, and surrounded by good company. You often found yourself longing to be back in the Gryffindor common room with your friends, talking late into the night around the fire.
The common room had been replaced by your cozy little flat in London where you lived alone. It was small and in need of renovations, but had unique charms and a homey feel. Your friends had been replaced by a few coworkers who you met occasionally for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron. The sense of security, belonging really, had been replaced by a near-constant unease and loneliness that seemed to follow you around like a shadow. Occasionally, you’d receive an owl from Lily, updating you on her life with James. They were recently engaged, and you couldn’t be happier for them. You and Lily had been fast friends at Hogwarts. Your mixed magical and Muggle family meant you could understand her, and help her adjust to life at Hogwarts. After being sorted into the same house, the two of you had been inseparable for years, only drifting apart slightly when Lily and James grew closer. Sharing Lily’s attention had been an adjustment, but it had come with a larger friend group, as Lily and James had quickly welcomed you into their circle, introducing you to Sirius and Remus. The five of you had spent your seventh year causing quite the ruckus. Between parties, weekend trips to Hogsmeade, and sneaking through the castle’s many hidden passageways, you had never had a better time at Hogwarts.
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Walking up the red brick steps to your flat, you shook yourself free of thoughts of the past and focused on the evening ahead. Unlocking the door with a discreet flick of your wand, you stepped inside and took in the warmth of your small home. Sitting on the kitchen counter was Lily’s most recent letter, informing you of her engagement. With it, she had sent a picture of herself and James, both smiling and waving up at you. Holding the photograph in one hand, you contemplated the contents of the letter. The happy couple would be in London in a couple of hours to grab a pint and celebrate with Sirius and Remus. You had been invited to join, of course, but you found yourself hesitant.
As close as your group had been during seventh year, there was an unmistakable shift in dynamic as Lily and James became closer. It had left you, Remus, and Sirius to your own devices. The three of you had always enjoyed teasing one another, conversations always full of quick wit and laughter. But like so many good friendships, you had gotten too close and ended up burned. Turns out Remus and Sirius didn’t really want to turn their duo into a trio. Outside of a couple of dinners at Lily and James’s, you hadn’t spent any time with the two boys. In fact, now that you thought about it, more than a year had passed since you’d seen any of the old group, aside from Lily.
As much as the idea of seeing everyone again after so long made you nervous, you knew how important it was to Lily that you made an appearance. For this reason, you found yourself shrugging off your heavy cloak and padding into the bedroom to change. After changing into a burgundy cardigan and your favorite jeans, you fixed your makeup and messy updo with a flick of your wand. Throwing on an overcoat, you prepared yourself to brave the night once again, feeling the familiar flare of anxiety pool in your stomach. It was just a couple of drinks with old friends—what could be so bad about that?
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Trudging along the castle halls back to Gryffindor after a long week of classes hadn’t been easy. You had felt weighed down by exhaustion, impatiently awaiting the moment you could curl up under your covers and say goodbye to the stress of pre-Christmas exams, if only for a few hours. Arriving back at the common room, you found it unusually quiet. Unlike most of Gryffindor House, you had spent the last Friday evening before end-of-term exams in the library, pouring over notes and trying desperately to recall Professor Binns’s most recent lecture. You assumed the younger students were asleep in their dorms, while the older students—your friends included—were almost certainly at the little bash Hufflepuff was throwing to try and outdo the Gryffindor party that would be taking place the following weekend. An impossible feat, but don’t tell that to any of the Puffs.
Climbing the stairs to your dorm, you recalled that you had lent your copy of Advanced Potion Making to Remus, and you would need it to continue studying in the morning. The chances of getting the book back before noon tomorrow seemed slim, so you opted to sneak into the boys’ dorm and fetch it before crashing. No one would be in right now, and it wasn’t like you and Lily hadn’t been in their dorms before. Quickly changing course, you found yourself in front of the boys’ dormitory and cast a quick charm to unlock the door. Slowly stepping inside, you began searching for the textbook near Remus’s things. Taking in the room, you noticed that the curtains around Sirius’s four poster had been drawn completely closed. Odd for a messy dorm. Surely Sirius hadn’t brought a girl back so early in the night—it was only half-past ten. You flushed at the thought and felt your heart rate increase at the idea that he might be behind the curtain with some girl from the party. Sirius was good-looking, no doubt about it, but you wouldn’t reduce yourself to being jealous of whoever his conquest of the night was. You silently thanked the heavens for the existence of silencing charms and hurried your search.
It only took a moment longer for you to spot the potions book among some of Remus’s school clothes. You quickly grabbed the book and made your way to the door, but before you could grab the handle, you heard a great thump and the unmistakable sound of Sirius groaning in pain. Turning to look, you saw Sirius on his back, looking rather disheveled—his curly black locks untidy, cheeks flushed, and the majority of the buttons on his shirt undone. But instead of seeing some sixth-year Hufflepuff girl on top of him, you saw... “Remus?”
“Hello, Fluffs,” he said breathlessly, looking rather sheepish. If you thought Sirius looked flushed, it was nothing compared to the pink staining Remus’s cheeks—not that you were any better off.
“I was just coming to fetch my book… I thought you’d both be off at the party with the others—sorry.” The explanation came out squeaky as you clutched the book to your chest. Both boys stared at you, rooted to the spot, all three of you seemingly at a loss for words. Remus seemed to catch up with himself first, he extracted himself from his position between Sirius’s legs and stood quickly on wobbling legs. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, struggling with how to proceed.
“The others don’t know. You wouldn’t mind keeping this between the three of us, would you?”
Glancing between his nervous expression and the still red Sirius on the floor, you nodded slowly and took a step back towards the door.
“My lips are sealed. Promise.” You gave a small smile, still blushing, and quickly exited the room.
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A short walk later, you found yourself standing outside the small pub Lily had mentioned in her letter. You felt anxiety settle in the pit of your stomach as you looked down at your watch: eight twenty. You were early—perhaps you would get lucky, and it would just be Lily and James there. Sirius and Remus tended to be just beyond fashionably late. Keeping that thought in mind, you took a deep breath and opened the door.
The pub was dimly lit, and the air was thick with smoke. The bar was full of Muggle patrons watching whatever match happened to be on. Along one wall was a series of round cushioned booths, each outfitted with its own oil lamp and ashtray. Taking in the scene, you spotted two familiar faces. To your great surprise, Sirius and Remus could be seen sitting in one of the booths. Sirius noticed you first, a large grin spreading across his face as his pale eyes met yours. Despite the hammering in your chest, you felt yourself smiling back as your feet carried you towards their booth. Sirius looked as ever—his curly dark hair pulled into a loose bun, his cream button-down hugging his broadened shoulders. Remus gave you a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and as you got closer, he ran a nervous hand through his hair.
“Well, if it isn’t our favorite Fluffs!” Sirius grinned.
He stood and pulled you into an embrace as you reached the booth. Standing on your toes and throwing your arms around his neck in return felt as natural as coming home. His cologne smelled of spice and something woodsy, and it stuck to you as you stepped down and went to take a seat next to Remus.
You weren’t sure what you had been expecting seeing just the two of them again after all this time, but the enthusiastic welcome from Sirius had been enough to settle your nerves.
“Still calling me Fluffs? I was really hoping that after all these years, the two of you would let me live that down.”
“Don’t be silly, dove,” Remus said with a smirk. “That nickname is going to stick around as long as Pads does.”
You let out a small huff at Remus’s comment. It came as a relief that he felt comfortable enough to tease you alongside Sirius, even if he had seemed apprehensive seeing you again. You relaxed further into the booth as Sirius sat down on Remus’s other side.
“I must say, I’m surprised to see you here before Lily and James. Since when were you two so punctual?”
Sirius smiled into his pint as Remus explained, “We’ve got a flat nearby. Prongs asked us to save a booth.”
Rather than linger on the fact they were living together—and what that implied—you leaned across Remus and asked Sirius if he would fetch you a drink. He obliged with a grin and quickly made his way to the bar.
“It’s good to see you again, love,” Remus said, turning toward you. As you took him in, all deep eyes and silky light-brown hair, you felt yourself flush once again. While Sirius had always brought out the bubbly side of you with his exuberant energy, Remus often gave you butterflies with just a look. Despite the years that had passed, it was clear the pair still affected you like you were seventeen.
No sooner had Sirius returned bearing your drink of choice—because of course he remembered—than the happy couple materialized at the booth. After warm greetings all around, the five of you settled into comfortable conversation with drinks all around.
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It was the first time since Hogwarts that the five of you had had so much fun. A great deal of catching up had been in order, Lily and James gushing over the engagement and wedding plans, Remus and Sirius about their many London adventures, and you about the happenings at the Muggle Relations Office.
Lily and James were seated on one side of the booth, and somewhere between round two and three, you had ended up squished between Remus and Sirius on the other.
“Did the boys tell you about their flat?” Lily piped up across the table. “It’s just around the corner. Real nice place too! What with two boys living there and all…” She trailed off with a giggle.
So, if it was common knowledge they were living together, did that mean—
“Ultimate bachelor’s pad if you ask me! They’ve even got Muggle foosball all enchanted. The little players have got a mind of their own at this point,” James chimed in.
Apparently not.
Not dwelling on the fact Lily and James were still in the dark about certain aspects of their friends' relationship, you quickly downed the rest of your drink. Head feeling fuzzy and cheeks radiating heat, you focused your eyes to look at Lily. She gave you a wide smile before grabbing James’s arm and announcing to the group that it was past her bedtime, prompting the group to finish their drinks as well. You all stood and staggered out onto the street, you yourself stumbling slightly and gripping onto the table to help you stand. After Lily and James had said their goodbyes, Lily giving you a tight hug, Remus and Sirius turned to you.
“How are you planning on getting home, dove? Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of disapparating in this state,” Remus teased, clearly amused at how tipsy you’d gotten after just a few pints.
He had a point. You didn’t have a good way to get home besides walking, but it was rather late for that. The other option was casting a sobering charm on yourself, but that just sounded plain unpleasant. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Suppose I could always take the night bus,” you giggled, feeling a little silly for your lack of forethought.
Sirius shook his head before you had even finished your sentence. “Don’t be ridiculous, Fluffs! You can tag along with me and Moony, crash at ours, yeah?”
“Yeah?” you said hesitantly, your eyes darting between the two tall boys. The last thing you wanted was to put them out right after reconnecting had gone so well.
Remus nodded his agreement without hesitation. “Perfect idea, Pads. We’ve got an extra blanket and everything. Don’t you worry, love.”
And so, you found yourself arm-in-arm with Remus and Sirius, walking down the streets of London toward their flat. Correction: street. Lily hadn’t been kidding when she said it was around the corner. During the short walk, you couldn’t help but feel like you were exactly where you ought to be. Something about being back with Remus and Sirius felt so unbelievably right that it made you giddy.
As you rose the steps with Remus’s help, the last drink from the pub hit your system, and you felt yourself lean into him ever so slightly more. Once inside, he laid you down on the couch with the promise of a blanket and a couple of pillows that felt cool on your flushed cheeks. Remus pulled off your boots, and you could hear Sirius talking animatedly to him from what you imagined was the kitchen. You let your eyes slip closed as you settled into the couch, feeling warm and sleepy. The boys' voices became more hushed, and you heard footsteps indicating they were walking toward the couch.
“Dove?” Remus’s soft voice prompted you to peek your eyes open.
“Mmm?”
“Just wanted to say goodnight, darling,” he explained, his hand rubbing soft circles on your arm.
“Night, Moons. Night, Pads,” you murmured, looking at the pair of them and smiling.
“Goodnight, our darling Fluffs,” Sirius replied, smiling brightly.
You let your eyes fall closed once more, drifting off to the sound of hushed whispers and a door closing down the hall.
#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar x you#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar#sirius black x reader#remus x sirius#remus lupin x reader#sirius black#remus lupin#smites writes#smites fics#tangled hearts
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⛥゚・。 happy birthday
synopsis: it's a known fact that zoro can't stand his birthday... but when you finally discover the date, you can't help putting together something special
cw: nsfw (male & fem receiving), spanking, dirty talk, zoro's a little rough, some leather, some comfort, maybe a little ooc zoro but who gives a shit, reader + nami = trouble, usopp's a real og, reader can see visions, reader has black angel wings, both aren't really pertinent to the story but they're described, etc.
a/n: happy thanksgiving!
"Ladies, I need your assistance," you stated, plainly, approaching your two best friends—who were lounging on the deck chairs—and plopping yourself down next to them.
This was beyond urgent.
"Of course, (y/n)," Nami nodded, dropping her magazine in her lap and glancing up at you with an inviting smile. "What's up?"
"Is everything alright?" Robin asked, slightly concerned.
"Everything's... fine," you nodded, unconvincingly, actively trying to think up a way to explain. "I just... I did a thing... and learned something I probably shouldn't have... about Zoro."
'Huh?'
"About Zoro?" she raised a brow, now even more intrigued.
"Did he hurt you? Or say something stupid again?" Nami's gaze turned sharp, the woman sitting up rigidly in her seat, ready to go to war. "If he did, I swear, I'll wring his muscly-ass neck!"
"No, no! Not that," you quickly assured, shaking your head. "It's something from his past... from before he met me."
"What happened?" Robin asked, shutting her book, now fully invested. "From the start, if you don't mind."
You nodded, looking down at your lap and recalling the events of the last hour.
"I was doing my daily meditation on the roof of the crow's nest, y'know, like I always do, when I was suddenly hit with a vision," you started. "Now, it didn't come as harshly as the others typically do, so I assumed that it was going to be about something trivial. But that changed when a young Zoro suddenly came into view."
The women sat quietly, listening intently as they took in each word.
"He was training, super aggressively, mind you, when all of a sudden this group of kids comes running up to him asking when he was going to stop."
Crossing one leg over the other, you playfully rolled your eyes.
"Of course, Zoro being Zoro, said he wasn't gonna finish any time soon, but, and get this, the kids say But you're gonna miss your birthday party!"
Nami and Robin gasped, eyes widening slightly.
It was common knowledge that the swordsman wasn't very fond of birthdays—or rather his birthday, specifically.
Whenever asked about it, he often dodged the question, or just ignored it altogether, not bothering with Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper's chaotic antics in trying to get him to spill the beans.
Even you were unsuccessful, the man managing to smoothly redirect the conversation with the rough timbre of his voice, knowing it distracted you easily, along with other physical means.
Eventually, you gave up hope, seeing as you didn't even have a clue as to what season the day fell in.
But now... you had a date.
And it was today.
"I know he hates it, but I can't just sit on this," you whined, slumping in the chair. "Before, it wasn't like I could do anything because I didn't know when. But now that I do, I can't in clear conscience do nothing for his birthday..."
"I'm not sure," Robin sighed, quizzically. "There might be a reason why he doesn't celebrate. Maybe something bad happened and caused him to hate the day."
"Or maybe he's just being his typical, difficult self?" Nami scoffed, rolling her eyes before turning to you. "I think it's sweet that you wanna do something nice for him. And I know exactly what you need to do in order to make this the best day of his life!"
Confused, you watched as she leaned over, reaching under her chair and grabbing a book bound with rich, wine-colored leather, the image of a muscular man with extremely long hair and billowing shirt on the cover.
"A book?" you raised a brow. "Zoro's... not really a reader. Especially not something like this."
"No, silly. What's inside the book."
"Paper?"
"Romance."
With an exasperated sigh, she flipped through a couple pages, eyes lighting up when she found the page she was looking for.
"This novel is like a playbook on how to seduce a man," she happily handed it over, allowing you to skim over the text. "Follow that scene to the letter, and you'll have him counting down the minutes until his next birthday. I guarantee it."
"Are you sure?" your nose scrunched slightly at the cheesiness, confused as to why the author kept on mentioning the love interest's rippling pectorals. "This isn't really my style..."
"Trust me!" she grinned, giving you a soft pat on the back. "It's foolproof."
Glancing toward Robin for confirmation, she could only shrug, resting her hands in her lap.
"You know Zoro the best... Do what you think suits both you and him," she advised. "Even if that means trying something new."
Closing the book, your eyes found their way to the cover, your mouth fighting off the urge to stick out its tongue at the sight of the man's chiseled smolder.
He looked more like a girl than you...
"I'll take your word for it."
"(y/n)?" Zoro called, knocking on the door to the women's quarters before carefully pushing it open, slightly frustrated to find that you were, once again, not there.
Well, at least that eliminates the cabin...
Letting out a heavy sigh, he turned around, opting to shift his search toward the deck.
'Where the hell did she run off to?'
It was late, and the swordsman had been searching for the past twenty minutes, having already been through the kitchen, the dining room, the sick bay, the aquarium, the library, and the workrooms, with still no trace of you.
This, of course, was very odd considering you were usually within arms reach of him, the two of you seeming to just naturally float around each other, even as you did your daily routines.
Not only that, but also the fact that he hadn't seen you all day, seeing as Usopp dragged all the men along on a Boys Day Out.
Though, Zoro didn't understand why he felt the need to worry so much.
He knew a million times over that you were a strong and capable woman, and that if anything were to happen, you could more than adequately hold your own.
But for some odd reason, reminding himself of this fact wasn't subduing the concern spiking in his chest.
'Dammit...'
He had to find you and kill this feeling before he could think any deeper into it.
"(y/n)!" he called, looking around as he walked out on deck. "(y/n)!"
When he was no response, he simply tried again, not planning on stopping until you revealed yourself.
"Will you shut up?!" Nami groaned from her spot from one of the lounge chairs, brows furrowed as she looked up from her maps. "You sound like a lost little puppy."
Zoro rolled his eyes at her theatrics, turning to face her.
"Where's (y/n)?" he asked, curtly.
"She's in the crow's nest," the navigator stated, simply, turning her attention back to the papers strewn over her lap. "Said something about waiting for you... though I'm sure you're too busy ruining the peaceful atmosphere."
Sassily, she flipped one of the parchments over, lazily skimming over its contents.
"Mosshead..."
The man scoffed, expression turning sour at the obvious jab.
"If you'd told me where she was sooner, I wouldn't have shouted!"
"If you'd asked me where she was sooner, I would've told you!"
"Whatever!"
He turned away in a huff, walking over to the ladder and grabbing onto the cool metal.
"Good luck!" Nami called, cheekily, waving as he left. "You're gonna need it!"
"The hell?" he grumbled, starting his trek to the crow's nest, muttering to himself in confusion as he approached the top.
He would never understand her...
Hoisting himself up on the balcony, his brow quirked at the soft hum of music coming from the other side of the wall.
'Music?'
Confused, he listened closer, slowly beginning to make out the sound of a saxophone, which was playing over a smooth jazz background.
You never listened to music when you worked out, much less the sultry nonsense flowing through his ears.
And even though he could hear that, he had yet to hear you grunt out a rep, or rack a weight.
What the hell was going on with everyone today?
Curiosity piqued, he opened the door, eyes widening and heart dropping to his ass at the sight that met him on the other side.
Somehow, the crow's nest had been turned into some sort of makeshift love den, the lights dimmed and the mat area lined with lush pillows and fur blankets, candles illuminating the surrounding area and incense filling the room with a light haze, which smelled of sandalwood and jasmine.
And there, in the middle of it all, sat an angel...
Zoro's breath hitched, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of your naked form.
You were laying on your side, delicious curves on display in the smallest, tightest leather corset he'd ever seen, your tits practically spilling out the top.
Your hair, freshly washed, cascaded beautifully down your side, framing your face and slightly shading your eyes in a way that gave his hand an itch to tug it.
Not to mention your newly-lotioned skin glowing in the soft candlelight, making you look so smooth and soft and primed for grabbing.
And your dark wings only added to the appeal.
The soft music seemed to be coming from a small transponder snail in the corner, its eyes turned toward the wall in hopes of protecting its innocence from the events to come.
"(y/n)..." he started, both confused and painfully aroused, as he shut the door behind himself, locking it. "What're you doing?"
You faltered, an awkward expression settling on your face.
"Being... sexy?"
Zoro paused a moment, waiting to see if you'd change your answer, before breaking into a small fit of chuckles.
Instantly, your face flushed, embarrassment beginning to sink in.
You knew this was stupid!
"Don't laugh, you ass! I was trying to surprise you!" you whined, abruptly sitting up, crossing your arms over your chest.
"You found out it was my birthday today, didn't you?" he cut to the chase, stalking forward. "And then Nami put you up to this?"
The dots were all connecting.
Usopp keeping him off the ship.
You going missing.
Nami's odd comment.
You were trying to seduce him as a birthday present.
Not that he was complaining...
Your lip jutted out in a slight pout, your eyes avoiding all contact with the man as he moved closer.
"I know you don't like celebrating your birthday, but Nami gave me some book that was supposed to explain exactly what men want... and I figured you still deserved something nice..." you limply explained, turning away from him. "But, in hindsight, it was stupid..."
Sitting down in front of you, his pointer and thumb came up to hold your chin, turning you to face him, where you were met with a soft kiss on your forehead.
"It was sweet," he corrected, thumb smoothing over the skin of your cheek. "Even if you look anything but sweet right now... I can tell you put a lot of effort into this."
You perked up at the last part, turning to him eagerly, eyes glinting with hope.
"Really?" you asked, sounding surprised, your expression downright adorable.
Suddenly, the music, the clothes, and the absolutely tantalizing scent of you began to work their magic on him.
All of his thoughts and reason faded into thin air as he stared at your gorgeous, doe eyes.
"Really," he confirmed, voice low and wanting.
And you could only let out a tiny gasp before he grabbed you by the back of the neck and pressed his lips against yours.
The kiss wasn't soft or careful.
The kiss was rough; hungry; slow as he drew moans and gasps out of you.
He kissed you like he hadn't done so in ages, and you were starting to believe he hadn't.
His lips were soft, the taste of sake and mint on his tongue.
You let his hand move along your back and ass, roughly squeezing the flesh and making you moan.
Taking advantage over your open mouth, he slid his tongue alongside your bottom lip before slipping it inside in your mouth.
He grunted hungrily as your tongue began to swirl with his, swapping spit and exchanging breath.
The act made your pussy clench impatiently behind the leather, wanting to be touched and treated.
By him.
Zoro then pulled away enough to speak, eyes hooded and dark.
"Where'd you get this little number from?" he murmured hotly against your lips, calloused hands coming up to roughly knead your hips, feeling up the fabric under his fingertips. "Tell me."
One of his hands snuck down to squeeze your ass, and you let him, biting back a whimper in the process.
"W-Went into town," you softly stuttered. "Bought the outfit the girl was wearing in the book."
He started to line kisses all over your jaw, hungrily moving down to your neck; your collarbone; and your naked shoulders.
"Fuck," he growled into your skin. "Too damn good to be true."
His hands roamed up and down your sides, squeezing and fondling.
"Been wantin' your fine ass since I walked in here..."
"You like it—?" The rest of your question doesn't leave your lips as he grabbed you by your hips and pulled you toward him, so close that air couldn't even move between you.
Your bodies were pressed flushed against each other, so close that you can feel the painfully hard bulge in his robe.
He was turned on by you.
He was really turned on by you.
That fact made you delirious.
His lips pressed against yours again, kissing them so much that your mouth was beginning to turn raw.
He began to settle himself among the pillows and blankets, never breaking the kiss, before plopping down on the nearest, largest cushion.
Then, he gripped your hips and coaxed you onto his lap, forcing you to straddle him.
Instinctively, you ground down into his hardening member, enlisting a groan from deep within his throat.
The sound traveled straight to your core.
You wanted more.
"I want you, Zoro," you sultrily whispered in a sudden burst of confidence, manicured hands gliding over his strong shoulders. "Please... I don't think I can wait."
To show how serious you were, your hands came up to undo the laces on your back, freeing your chest for him to see.
The shock in his steel gray eyes is replaced with sheer hunger when he caught a full view of your perfect tits, sitting there just waiting to be touched.
"You little minx..." he chuckled, amused. "Lemme get a feel of you first."
You bit your lip as he leaned forward, laying you down against the brown, furry blanket before prying your legs open.
And there he got a good look of your sobbing wet pussy, the crotch of your leather suit having been cut out.
Eyes widening at the sight, he looked almost pained.
You were going to be the death of him.
"Christ, (y/n)..." he hissed, leaning down to get a better look, gaping at your sex. "You tryin' t'kill me?"
His eyes flicked up to yours, hands still on your thighs.
'Okay?' his eyes asked.
Wordlessly, you nodded, unable to speak.
But that wasn't gonna slide.
Slowly, he began to brush his fingers up and down your wet slit, paying close attention to your reaction.
"Words, pretty," he growled. "Gimme words."
"Yes!" you moaned, toes curling at the feeling of his fingers on your cunt. "Please, Zo'... please touch me."
He gave you a wolfish grin at your pitiful whines, but didn't keep you waiting.
Swooping down, he captured your clit in his mouth, suckling and eating your pussy like a starving man.
He was relentless with his tongue slashed, flicks and long licks up and down your slit.
And you loved it.
Your hips writhed and whined against his mouth, trying to get him closer.
Your pussy pushed past his soft lips, which drew mindless shapes and nonsense words across your needy core.
"You're so wet," he mumbled into your pussy. "Doin' all this in your little suit turns you on that much, pretty?"
You moaned in response, unable to form words, especially when he reached one hand up to play with your breast.
And it only got better when Zoro began to tease your entrance with his middle finger, dipping the tip in and out of your wet pussy.
"You want this?" he asked, voice nothing but a low growl.
You nodded vigorusly, pulling a laugh from the man's lips.
"So needy," he teased as he began to slowly slid his finger inside of you. "S'been a while since we fooled around... Have I not been takin' care of this pussy?"
"Y—!" you gasped, eyes blown wide as you felt your pussy stretch around three, thick fingers.
He aimed up to brush against your clit as he slid his fingers in and out of you, while also leaning down to suck on it, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.
You could feel yourself quickly beginning to reach your peak.
'No! Not like this!'
"Wait, Zoro!" you whined, writhing against him. "Not yet!"
He immediately ceased his movement and pulled away from you, glaring confusingly.
"'Scuse me?" he asked, not sounding happy with your protest.
You nearly laughed at his reaction.
"It's your birthday," you explained. "I'm 'sposed to be the one making you feel good. So lay down."
Zoro still looked pissed he couldn't make you cum, but listened anyway.
He laid down, mouth and chin glistening from your juices, and you moved to sit on top of him.
Slowly, you began to kiss and suck your essence off of his mouth, earning low groans from him
Your hands slid down to his broad chest and you gripped his robe.
"Off please?" you asked, peering up at him through your lashes.
You don't have to ask twice.
In a flash, he tugged his arms out his sleeves, pushing his robe and haramaki down to leave him in just his boxers.
You took a moment to admire his beautiful body—so hard and defined with muscle and scars, his lower stomach sinewy with green hair.
He was so, so gorgeous.
Slowly, you glided your hands up and down his hard body, admiring his well-defined pecs and abs.
"You're perfect," you whispered before leaning in to peck his scars, running your lips softly over each.
The low moans and mmms Zoro let slide out his mouth were delicious to you.
They only heighten your arousal, along with the music still playing in the background.
You never pictured yourself getting off on a scene like this, but you supposed it took the right person to bring the freak out of you.
Smoothly, you began to kiss down his hardened stomach until you came down to his boxers, which were already hanging low on his hips.
"Fuck, baby," he hummed, watching you work.
His lips were parted and his eyes were hooded, completely entranced by you.
Finally ridding him of his underwear, you began to think you bit off more than you could chew—or suck, rather—when you get a look at his cock for the first time in weeks.
Lately, between your training schedules and antics with the crew, the two of you had barely had a moment to yourselves.
But you never thought you'd forget how well-endowed he was, dick thick and curved slightly to the left, green hair curling around his stomach and pubic area.
"Hasn't been that long, has it?" he chuckled, teasingly, raising a brow. "You havin' second thoughts?"
"No..." you scoffed, cheeks puffed.
Not wanting to disappoint him, you opened your mouth and slowly began to slide his dick against your tongue.
"There we go," he cooed, relaxing into the blanket. "Good girl... take it all in."
You followed his instruction, your jaw and mouth stretching to accommodate his size.
"Mmm-hmm," you hummed around his cock, he vibrations causing him to moan.
You relished the sounds, wanting more, so you began to move your head back and forth, taking his cock in and out your throat.
You gagged and spat all along his dick, causing saliva to drip down his balls and your chin, making your blowjob extra sloppy.
And Zoro was eating up every second.
He tossed his head back as his eyes rolled in the back of his head, giving you sight that you took a mental snapshot of for a rainy day.
He was so, so sexy.
And to be able to make him feel good gave you the motivation to fight against your aching jaw and burning throat as you continued to fuck him with your throat.
"Doin' so good, baby," he grunted, rolling his hips into your mouth. "So good for me..."
But to your surprise, he suddenly pulled his cock out your mouth.
"But if I'm gonna cum, it's either gonna be on that pretty ass or those pretty' tits ."
You smirked, sitting up and lacing your hand with his, "How about inside?" you purred.
You'd already gotten the hook-ups from Chopper, though embarrassing, and were stocked full of necessary precautions.
And, of course, that was all you needed to say to get Zoro to smash his lips hungrily against yours.
"This gift jus' keeps gettin' better and better," he cheekily growled against your mouth, flipping you both over and laying you down on the brown fur. "Now choose how I'm doin' you before I do it for you."
Not wasting any time, you laid down on your stomach, presenting your ass and dripping pussy for him as you moved a pillow under your hips.
You then looked back at him, only to find him sitting there and stroking himself to the sight of you.
"Like this," you whispered, breathlessly. "Fuck me just like this, Zo'."
Zoro was going fucking feral behind you, and it took everything in his being not to shove his entire length in side you as he began to move closer.
"God, look at you... stainin' the cushions," he sighed as he began to rub your pussy with his cock. "Sittin' nice and pretty just for me..."
Starting out, he went in slow, taking his sweet time to allow you to get used to him.
As soon as his tip entered you, your jaw dropped and your eyes blew wide from the stretch.
No one could ever compare to how warm and solid Zoro felt snuggled up in your pussy.
No one.
You were so glad you had the fur of the blanket to grip at he took a hold of your hips and bottomed out inside of you.
"F-Fuck, Zoro!" you whined, burying your face in the pillows.
He began to bump his hips against yours a little faster now, the sound of skin slapping filling the air as his heavy balls hit your clit.
"C'mon, now, pretty," he huffed. "Y'said you were my present, yeah? Be a good girl and take me then. Make me proud."
He moved to fuck you harder, taking a handful of your ass before giving it a harsh slap.
The feeling was just too much.
He was so deep.
Your eyes were seeing stars, ones that far surpassed the ones lining the night sky.
You had no chance to comprehend anything, too busy taking Zoro's fat cock as he fucked you into oblivion in your little leather, corset.
"Feels good, don't it?" he grunted in your ear.
One of his hands moved to smack your ass again, a wanton moan ripping from your throat.
"Bet you've dreamed about this," he growled at you. "Bet you couldn't wait until I got home tonight."
He leaned down toward you, his lips grazing your ear.
"Bet you've been waiting to get split on my dick for so long."
"Gods, Zoro, yes!" you screamed out to the heavens, fisting the blanket for dear life as he fucked you harder.
You'd never felt like this before; so gone.
Your eyes are closed and your mind is blank, only able to thing of the man towering above you, turned dumb by the waves of pleasure washing over you.
The pleasure was just too good, and you could feel it beginning to build in your core.
"M'gonna cum!" you practically sobbed, your head thrown back. "Zoro!"
The man let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, slightly hiking up his leg to get a better angle.
"Me, too," he grunted. "Want you to take it."
He pressed his lips to your ear, leaning down so his dick hit that spot that had you seeing the entire universe behind your eyes.
"Fuckin' cum for me, pretty," he demanded. "Let me know how good I'm makin' you feel."
And you do.
Moans and gasps leave your lips like a chorus as that coil in your stomach finally snapped.
You unraveled, cumming all over Zoro's dick.
"Oh, my Gods!" you screamed, voice reaching the high heavens.
Your eyes spilled tears of ecstasy as he talked you through it, telling you how good of a girl you were as he stroked your outer thighs.
"Gonna cum, too," he grunted, hips snapping aganist your ass again and again as he chased his high. "You gonna take all of it, baby, hm?"
"Y-Yes!" you choked out, tossing your ass back to meet his thrusts, wanting to make him feel good, too.
He gripped your hips for dear life and came deep inside you with husky, loud moan that made your stomach leap and your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.
You took every ounce he had to offer, not once pulling away.
You could feel it coating your walls, filling you up to the point where you curled your toes and gasped at the feeling coursing through your body.
Finally, Zoro's hips began to slow until he finally came to a stop, pulling out of you with a soft groan.
But he wasn't done.
Still hard, he slid his head over your lower back and ass, coating your skin in his cum.
"So you smell like me," he grunted. "No other man'll even try."
You let out a weak, spent moan as your hips finally dropped, Zoro finally releasing his hold on you as he flopped to your side.
Grabbing you, he pulled your body into him, allowing you to snuggle into his side as he grabbed the blanket, wrapping you both in its warmth.
With the adrenaline now wearing off, and you so limp in his grasp, he began to worry, glancing down at you with a hint of concern
"You alright?" he carefully asked, slightly nudging you. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
You slowly shook your head, still in a daze.
"That was amazing," you sighed, pressing further into his warm side. "Best I ever had..."
A proud smile stretched across Zoro's face, chest puffing slightly at the praise.
"So... did this make your birthday a little better?" you nervously asked, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Grinning, he gave you two kisses on your cheek, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your jaw.
"It did," he hummed contently. "By a hell of a lot more than a little."
Yes!
Internally, you gave yourself a huge high five, insanely proud that Mission: Mosshead was a success.
And now, you believed you deserved some snuggles in return.
"Cuddle with me?" you cooed, looking up at him through your lashes.
Zoro chuckled, rolling his eyes at you.
"Such a baby," he teased, securely wrapping his muscled arms around you, squeezing. "You're lucky I like you."
"Just like?"
"You know what I mean."
"I think I wanna hear you say it."
"I think I wanna take a nap."
"Zoro..."
"(y/n)..."
"Happy birthday."
"I love you."
#one piece#one piece x reader#roronoa#roronoa x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#roronoa zoro#zoro#zoro x reader#zorosangell#op
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Hi @andreabaideas ! We don't know each other but I follow @mzannthropy and I just wanted to say I agree with everything you said about expressing one's opinions and not caring what others think of it. And yes, especially women. I'm a very opinionated woman and as a result I've been called so many awful things by men. I just don't understand why they can't handle us having a voice. I don't understand what's going on in the US right now and why men are so offended by women in power. I mean, don't get me wrong, I can explain it in ways like they're deeply insecure and their masculinity is incredibly fragile, and they're afraid women no longer need men for anything (including sex) and that, especially, terrifies them. But even knowing all of that, I still just don't understand it. So what if a woman doesn't need you, isn't it enough that one WANTS you? But I think the problem lies there. It means they actually have to TRY to get a woman to want them because the days of women having to get married to survive are mostly gone. And now they have to try to be better people, they have to try to hold an intelligent conversation, they have to try to have varied interests and hobbies etc. And frankly I think most men are lazy when you look at that way and they don't want to put forth the effort to earn our interest and desire.
Anywho...
@mzannthropy I think we discussed this before, about how when I first got into Sam earlier this year I noticed immediately that there was a lot of appreciation and attention on his roles on The Hunger Games, Daisy Jones, and ME Before You. I'm wondering though if these are, in fact, people that I would consider fairweather fans. Not used by exact definition but its the closest I can think of to describe it. It's people who only like a celebrity for like one or two roles and are more in love with the character than the actor. Usually those fans don't stick around once the fixation on said character wears off.
I admit, I'm not as huge a fan of Sam as you or @jesstasticvoyage are, because my heart will always belong to Aidan Gillen, but I do consider myself a genuine fan. I just enjoy watching Sam work. He's extremely talented, unbelievably so. I will also admit that he's a far better actor than Aidan. I can't really put into words what he brings to the screen. A passion for what he does, obviously, but more than that. He's simply fantastic. One of my favorite performances of his is Oswald Mosley in Peaky Blinders. He's despicable but Sam is such a pleasure to watch in that performance. As good looking as he is, he did so well, I still hated his guts as Oswald.
Billy Dunne is also a favorite, even though I know you have a lot of not great opinions on DJATS. I didn't read the book so I have nothing to compare it to, so I did enjoy it very much. I was just baffled at what all he did to achieve that performance. The weight loss, yes, and learning to play an instrument, learning to SING well, recording an entire album. That's dedication. And when he's on screen I 100% believe he is Billy Dunne.
I also really liked him in Their Finest. Devastated by the ending but I loved watching it. His performance in The Corrupted is notable as well because that character just seems so not like real life Sam but he pulled it off completely.
Anyway, I'm getting off my point, which was that I personally think if you only like an actor in one role, you can't really say you're a REAL fan of that actor. A fan of the character, sure, but how can one be a fan of the actor if they only like them in one thing? Or even just two things? Especially if you look at the characters in question. They're these McDreamy type characters written and cast to get the attention of young women and teenage girls. I don't want to sound like a gatekeeper but if you only like one role then you're a fan of the character.
Omg, I just made this post so long. Imma shut up now. I really do have too many opinions sometimes 😅
Sam Claflin and Holliday Grainger in ‘Any Human Heart’ (2010)
#oh and yes people chemistry can exist between two actors with no romantic connection#chemistry exists between people in general with no romantic connection
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Can i please have a Ashlyn x fem reader??🥺 were the Sbg group does the pocky challenge and manages to get Ashlyn to agree to join, and so everyone has a turn with each other (Except for the siblings and cousins ofc) and Ashlyn keeps on backing out every 1-3 bites. While fem reader beats everyone. But then it finally came to Ashlyn and Fem readers round, and surprisingly Ashlyn didn’t back out and they both get really close to each other and finally the reader backs out blushing and Ashlyn wins. (SORRY IF THIS IS A VERY LONG DESC, ive requested this multiple times but i dont think anyone has done or approved of it yet im despratee🤧)
this is actually so cute wtf....thank you for the req! 🫶🫶
— POCKY CHALLENGE!
ashlyn banner (school bus graveyard) x fem!reader
warnings/tags: fluff, mild language, mutual pining, confessions!!
"this is so dumb."
"oh, don't be a downer, ashlyn!" aiden retorts, opening the pocky box, struggling to open the actual package. "this is gonna be so fun!"
"yeah!" taylor nods from her spot on the couch. "we're all friends, it won't be weird or anything. celebrities do this all the time!"
"this isn't a variety show like those kpop idols you watch, taylor," tyler rolls his eyes.
"don't disrespect them!" taylor points a finger at her brother.
"anyways," you say loud enough for them all to hear. "who should go first?"
"i want to!" both taylor and aiden raise their hands excitedly.
"alrighty then," you nod. ben takes the package from aiden who was still struggling and opens it before handing it to you. "taylor hernandez, in the right corner!" you announce as you stand up. "aiden clark, in the left corner!" you fail to notice a pair of eyes on you as you stand between taylor and aiden, taking a pocky out of the package. "okay, i'm going to give you guys one of these, both of you will have each end in your mouth and you'll get closer and closer until one chickens out. this is basically a fun game of chicken. remember, we're all friends! if anything happens, i doubt it'll do anything. are you two ready?" you glance between the two.
"ready!" they say and nod.
"awesome," you grin, handing the pocky to aiden. "round one, start!"
you sit back down on the couch next to ashlyn watching the next few rounds go on. you were grinning from ear to ear every time it was your turn, winning each time you competed. ben was keeping score for fun, and you were easily winning with aiden trailing close behind, only losing cause he backed out at the same time ashlyn did when they did theirs.
now, it was ashlyn and tyler, the second to last round before it was you and ashlyn. taylor was sitting beside you while watching aiden announce the start of the round.
"y'know, i think she's nervous," taylor says to you in a hushed voice.
"hm? i'm surprised she even agreed," you reply, looking over at taylor. "i mean, this was aiden's idea so."
"that's not what i mean," taylor shakes her head. "i mean clearly she's getting more nervous because you're the last round." she says, trying to subtly hint at you ashlyn's feelings towards you.
now you look at her with confusion. "why? cause i keep winning?" you question.
taylor stares at you with a deadpan expression. you're serious. jesus christ. "no," she says slowly. "because-"
"and tyler wins!" aiden exclaims, clapping his hands. "and another loss for ashlyn." he says with a sigh. "anyways! for the final round we have yn and ashlyn! yn, get your ass over here!" aiden grins.
you get up from your spot on the couch and stand in front of ashlyn, smiling lightly as aiden hands you the pocky.
"alright, this is the last round, folks!" aiden says. "if yn wins, she wins the whole thing! if ashlyn somehow manages to win...i guess she also wins the whole thing cause yn is undefeated! are you two ready?" he looks at you two.
"yep," you nod, grinning as you put one end of the pocky in your mouth.
"i guess," ashlyn mutters with a nod, taking a step closer and putting the other end of the pocky in her mouth.
"amazing! let the final round start!" aiden yells, taking a few steps back and sitting on the couch next to ben.
ashlyn's eyes don't meet yours as you take a bite off the pocky, inching closer to her. she can't believe she agreed to do this stupid thing. but, when she finally does look at you, a sudden wave of confidence hits her, and she's determined to win. whether that be making you back out or getting to the end and kissing you. she takes two bites off the pocky, getting much closer than you anticipated causing your breath to hitch in your throat, a small blush forming on your face as you peer back at her.
she's taking you serious, and you couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. she had backed out within the first three bites with everyone else, and she just bite off more than you did first in all the other rounds. you try to keep your hands from shaking too much, shoving them in the pockets of your jacket so no one can see, starting to panic slightly as you take another bite.
one of ashlyn's eyebrows raise seeing you visibly tense up as you took another bite. you're nervous. that's new considering how well you were doing beforehand. a small smirk makes its way onto her face as she takes another bite, her lips inches away from yours.
you freeze as ashlyn takes another bite, thinking she would back out by now. there was maybe two inches left of the pocky, and you could feel her breath hitting your lips from how close you were. you're not sure if you're breathing at this point, seeing the smirk form on her face and realizing she knows you're nervous. shit, when did she suddenly look so pretty? your face heats up more as your thoughts run around, and you find yourself cursing and pulling your face away from her.
everyone's jaws drop as soon as you take a few steps back, staring in shock as you quickly turn and look away.
"holy shit..." aiden lets out, standing up. "ashlyn has won!" he exclaims, clapping his hands. "great job, ash! as for you yn, i'm disappointed! what the hell happened?!" he looks at you.
"nothing," you quickly shake your head, not being able to look at anyone knowing how much you were blushing. "i need something to drink," you say, speedily walking away into the kitchen.
leaning your back against the kitchen island, you cover your face with your hands, groaning quietly in embarrassment. "such a dumb idea," you murmur into your hands.
"that's my line, y'know,"
you jump in surprise at the voice, removing your hands from your face to see ashlyn standing in front of you, fairly close. your eyes widen slightly as she takes a step closer to you, your mouth feeling dry as you look at her.
"why were you so nervous?" she questions. "with me, i mean," she adds.
"what?" you try to play it off, very obviously lying. "i wasn't nervous."
"uh-huh," ashlyn nods, leaning closer to you and seeing your eyes go wider. "see, you're nervous again. i can hear your breathing hitch. so why?"
shit, that didn't work. you don't know what to do now. you either admit the feelings you had and hope it doesn't blow up in your face, or lie again and hope it works. with a quiet, hushed voice, you manage to get words out. "i-i like you,"
a small smile forms on ashlyn's face at your confession. "good, cause i feel the same," she says in the same voice as yours. "now, can i kiss you since your dumbass chickened out before i could?"
all you do is nod your head, leaning closer as she does, your lips connecting with hers. it was short, pulling away quickly to not get caught by the others. you smile at her fondly, reaching for her hand and grabbing it. "see? this wasn't that dumb of an idea."
"yeah, i guess," ashlyn nods, a tiny smile on her face. "i'm not doing it again, though.
"even if it meant you would get a free pass to kiss me?" you tease.
"maybe not."
#school bus graveyard#sbg#sbg x reader#school bus graveyard x reader#sbg imagines#sbg (webtoon)#ashlyn banner#ashlyn banner x reader#ashlyn x reader#request
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consider: first year UC-berkeley iwaizumi hajime who doesn't know what to do during Thanksgiving Break. it's too much of a hassle and expensive, he reasons, to fly all the way home or to argentina for that short of a break. that time spent flying could be spent studying, not to mention the money. and all of that time spent home will likely still be spent hunched over his laptop and notes, clacking away at his final essays, and decidedly not with his family.
but he also doesn't want to stay in his cramped dorm room all alone. all of his newly-made friends and his dormmate are going home for thanksgiving. but him? he's already elected against flying, and that's pretty much his only option unless he wants to somehow uber all the way to argentina (bad idea).
his roommate then proposes to him: "why don't you just spend thanksgiving with me? we're real nice people, me and my family. we'll even leave ya alone if you wanna study, and we won't make ya eat anything if ya don't want it. it'll just give you a warm place to stay!"
and, well, his roommate is nice. he's heard glimpses of his conversations with his siblings and parents over the phone, and the stories he tells makes his family out to be... funny people, at the very least. and iwaizumi really doesn't want to stay in his dorm.
so. he says, "okay." and his roommate gives him this bright grin that both reassures iwaizumi and sends an inexplicable bone-chilling shiver down his spine. he gets his reasoning later, when his roommate sends him his flight ticket to alabama.
queue an incredibly rural southern thanksgiving with more cousins than iwaizumi can feasibly count to, constant noise and broken windows from all the little ones running around, old geezers talking politics while drinking beer and watching football, three different kinds of casseroles, and a turkey trot the morning of thanksgiving that he had NO prior warning of until his roommate is shaking him awake at five in the morning, talking about a 5k run. and those finals he wanted to study for? those essays he wanted to write? yeah, he doesn't get any time for that. instead, he's playing twister and Wii Sports bowling with both the younger cousins and the drunk adult cousins.
oikawa spares him no sympathy and laughs at him every single day of Thanksgiving Break.
i dont come from a place that celebrates thanksgiving with all the bells and whistles and football like the US does so i dont really know what kind of hell this would be but I know for SURE Japan doesnt have thanksgiving. Iwaizumi would have his roommate be like "hey i dont want you to be alone, wanna come to Alabama for thanksgiving?" and Iwa would be like "what the fuck is thanksgiving and what the fuck is Alabama" and then later he's on the phone with Oikawa and whispering so nobody can overhear him like "i dont KNOW whats happening they fed me about four metric tons of food last night and now they're teaching me how to play american football. no its not like volleyball. the big one shoulder checked me to the ground and I think I broke a rib. send help and send it fast please."
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