#thanksgiving imagines

[bloatedandalone04]

Every Breath You Take

➪the one where it’s the one year anniversary of the rightmart massacre and your boyfriend is hellbent on keeping you safe.

Warnings: spoilers for thanksgiving 2023, angst, fluff, mentions of death, death, mentions of kidnapping, descriptions of death, mentions of blood, swearing, think that is it..?

Word Count: 2k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Come on, Ry, please?” You begged as you tugged on your boyfriend’s arm. You were standing outside your high school’s doors as you pleaded with him in hopes he’d actually agree to be part of the parade with you. “Things have been really scary lately and I really want you to be up there with me. It’d make me feel a lot better.”

Ryan sighed as he looked down at you. His eyes searched yours before dipping down to your lips that were curved in a pout. He shook his head as a smile ghosted on his mouth. “It’d really make you feel better? To have me up there with you?” His tone held a hint of teasing to it, but he wasn’t at all making fun of you. Truth be told, he was pretty fucking scared, too, despite him not being part of the RightMart massacre. He didn’t really want to be away from you right now, either, but only because he was terrified to think about what may happen to you if he were to leave you alone for more than a few hours, since you had been in the store at the time of the stampede. 

You nod and move closer to him as various students rush around the two of you. “It really would,”

Ryan slipped his hands into your jacket pockets and pulled your body right up against his. “Then I guess I’ll be joining you and your friends on that dumb RightMart float in the parade,” he caved and was helpless to stop the smile from forming on his lips when you grinned up at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. He kissed you quickly, his hands sliding up your back as his lips meshed with yours. “And I don’t want you feeling scared, okay? Nothing will happen to you as long as I’m here, I promise.”

You smile up at him and gently massage the back of his neck with the tips of your fingers. “You don’t need to protect me, Ryan,” you murmur. “I’m partly responsible for what happened last year, I mean, I was there, I was in the store, I-”

“Y/n,” he cut you off sternly, pulling away so he could look you in the eye. “You had nothing to do with any of it, okay? You weren’t even supposed to be there, you-....This John Carver guy has no reason to go after you, alright? And he won’t. I promise you that.”

“Ryan-”

“I promise, baby,” he reiterated, refusing to break eye contact until you gave him a hesitant nod. “Okay?”

You nod again and move to rest your head against his chest. “Okay,” you agreed. “But I need you to promise me that you won’t do anything reckless in order to protect me or something. The second things go wrong or bad or whatever, we leave, okay? We get the fuck out of there, okay? I don’t want you getting hurt for me, especially since you weren’t even there when things went down at RightMart.”

Ryan kissed the top of your head and ran his hand up and down your back, comforting you wordlessly. “I promise,”

-

You hold onto the edge of the box you were sitting on as the RightMart float slowly makes its way down the street. Ryan was sitting in front of you but lower down, his legs draped off the side of it. Scuba was in the same position across the float with Jess sitting behind him, also on a box.

Without meaning to, your eyes flicker all over the street, as if the killer would be dumb enough to show up to the parade wearing the John Carver costume and wreak havoc. 

You lift your hand and wave at the people of Plymouth, forcing out a fake smile as you acted like everything was okay. Having Ryan so close helped a bit, like you knew it would, but now you felt like you were putting him in danger since you had to stupidly agreed to follow in after Evan and Gabby when they decided they just had to get him a new phone last year and get into RightMart before everyone else. 

Sure, you stayed by the back door for most of the time, and the second you saw Mitch’s wife, Amanda, get some of her hair scalped off you were screaming bloody murder as you and Jess held onto each other. 

It was then when you wished you had said yes when Ryan had offered to take you to the Thanksgiving party earlier, before you ever walked into that store. You weren’t even together at the time but you were both crushing hard on each other, why didn’t you say yes? You could have prevented yourself from being on the killer’s radar if you had just pushed aside your thoughts and left with him when you had the chance. 

Now your life was in danger, and Ryan’s was, too, by default and association. 

You drop your hand onto his shoulder as you make eye contact with a man in a John Carver mask, completed with the full pilgrim outfit. Fear fills your body and you squeeze Ryan a bit more, making him look up at you. He and Scuba had ditched the hats so they wouldn’t be obstructing your view, so you were able to clearly meet his eyes. “What? What’s wrong, baby?” His deep voice asked you, dropping his own fake smile and nearly getting out of character completely as he turned towards you.

You look away and at the spot where the John Carver rip-off was standing a few seconds ago, finding him gone. With your heart loud in your ears, you look back down at him with a so clearly forced smile. “Nothing, Ry,” you tried to assure him but you knew he would be able to see right through you. “I just thought I saw him.”

Ryan leaned closer to you and took your hand in his. “I don’t think he’d be dumb enough to show up here,” he was much better at comforting you. “You heard the sheriff’s plan. This will work.” 

You nod down at him just as Mitch moves to protest against RightMart. The float comes to a haunt, making your grip on Ryan tighten a bit as you both turn to look at Mitch. 

After the deputy pushed him off the road, the float began to move again and you lifted your hand in an embarrassed wave, as did Ryan and the others. 

You keep your other one locked in his as you whisper, “I don’t like this,”

Ryan glanced up at you. “We’re fine, babe, really. He won’t do anything with this many people around-” he was cut off when a person dressed in a clown costume cut the head of the person in the turkey mascot clean off. 

You let out a surprised scream as the float came to a skidding stop, sending the prop boat you were on sliding forward until it went through the back window of the truck. The sudden stop had Ryan’s hand slipping from yours as he fell off the side of it, as did Scuba. 

The sounds of screaming filled your ears as you leaned over the side to check if Ryan was okay. Your head was spinning a bit as you watched him stand back up and grip his forehead with one hand, his other reaching out for you. 

You take it and allow him to help you off the side of the float, and it was then when you saw how the front of it went straight through the driver’s face, surely killing him instantly. “Oh, my God,” you gasp out as Ryan pulls you into his side and tries to shield your eyes. You look up at him and notice the large cut he had on his forehead. “You’re bleeding.”

But he wasn’t concerned about it at all. “Come on,” he said as he pulled you away from the chaos. “We need to get out of here.”

You follow him along the street as various clouds of smoke invade your sight. “I can’t see,” you say over the sounds of screams. “Ryan, where are we going? What the fuck is happening?” 

“Just hold onto my hand,” he called back as he pulled you through the crowd. “Don’t let go, okay? Whatever you do, don’t let go of me.”

You nod and grip his bicep as he pulls you into the alleyway between two stores. Blue and green smoke still surrounds you as Ryan ditches the pilgrim shirt and you take it from him immediately with your free hand. “Stay still,” you murmur as you wipe away the blood from his face with the shirt, successfully staining it. “He just killed someone, Ryan. He killed that guy right fucking in front of us.”

Ryan gently pushed your hand away and dropped the shirt to the ground, his hands tightly gripping your forearms. “We need to get out of here,” he said sternly, looking over to see if the smoke cleared enough to be able to make out where he was going. “Now.”  

“Wait,” you call out as he begins to guide you away from the chaos. “What about Jess? And Scuba? We need to find them.”

Ryan shook his head as he turned to face you. “In this mess? Baby, we can’t see a fucking thing right now. Let’s just get out first then-” he cut himself off when the sound of a siren was heard, which was followed by a cop car speeding past the two of you. “Serve and protect my ass.” He muttered at the fleeing car before he resumed his task of getting you away from this street. 

“We can’t leave them,” you tried to say but he wasn’t having it. 

You are his top priority at the moment and you have been since the second things became official between the two of you a mere year ago. Actually, maybe even before that. “We can’t worry about them right now,” he mumbled as you and he finally made it to an area that had very little smoke in it. “We have to get the fuck away from all of this first.” 

“But, Ryan-”

“But nothing,” he cut you off as he came to a stop, finally giving your arm a break. “We can’t go back for them, okay? Not when he might still be back there somewhere. The police aren’t doing fuckall to keep you guys safe, clearly. I’ll do it myself by getting you away from here.”

He tried to get you to go with him, but the guilt was slowly taking over your body. “They’re our friends, Ry, we can’t just leave without knowing they’re okay,”

“I’m not losing you,” he nearly yelled as he turned back around to face you. You almost bump into him at the abrupt stop but his hands on your biceps steady you instantly. “Someone was just fucking decapitated in broad daylight, Y/n, why the fuck would we go back there? This isn’t a game, he wants everyone involved in that night dead, and that includes you. I’m not losing you, okay? I won’t. Especially not to some prick in a fucking John Carver costume.”

Your eyes burned with unshed tears as you looked up at your boyfriend, who was clearly running on pure adrenaline right now. While you desperately wanted to go back and find Jess and Scuba, you knew it was a bad idea when it could be you who gets killed next. 

Ryan was just trying to protect you, like he said he would back when things began going down hill. And he was right. Gabby and Evan were already missing, you could be taken, too, at any given second. You needed to get away, save yourselves, first. Then maybe you could help once everything settled down again. 

You reach up and grip his white tee as the first of many tears fell from your wide eyes. “Okay,” you weakly agree, taking his hand in yours. “Okay, we need to go.” 

Ryan gave you a conflicted smile as he pressed a hard kiss to your forehead and tightened his hold on your hand before leading you even further away from the destroyed parade.

[chloe-skywalker]

Holiday Imagine Masterlist

~

By @chloe-skywalker

Main Masterlist

*= Requested

(Updated version of this masterlist)

New Years (Eve & Day:

Midnight Kiss - Bucky Barnes (Avengers)

Valentines Day:

Dead Valentines - Joker & Harleys Quinns Daughter

Secret Valentines Day Plans - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

Love - Bucky Barnes (Avengers)

I Think I'm In Love With You - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

St Patrick's Day:

Leprechaun Traps - Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf)

Easter:

~ Easter Celebrations - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

May The 4th/Force Be With You:

May The 4th Be With You - Poe Dameron (Star Wars)

Independance Day (USA):

Way Better - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

Halloween:

Halloween Party - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

Thanksgiving:

Your Part Of My Family - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

Christmas (Eve & Day):

I Gave You My Heart - Jason Todd / Joker's Daughter (DC)

Mistletoe - Bucky Barnes (Avengers)

Last Christmas - Angel/Warren Worthington III (X-MEN)

At Least One - Roman Godfrey (Hemlock Grove)

Your Invited - Isaac Lahey (Teen Wolf)

Queen Christmas Party - Oliver Queen (DC/Arrow)

Ex's and Jealously - Jason Dilaurentis (Pretty Little Lairs)

New Christmas Plans - Jason Todd / Joker & Harley's daughter (DC)

No Plans - Billy Hargrove (Stranger Things)

Part #2

Part #3

Chestnuts Roasting - young Sirius Black (Harry Potter)

Avenger's & Family - Peter Parker (Avengers)

Dog Sledding & Sleigh Rides - Sirius Black (Harry Potter)

Catching Snowflakes - Regulus Black (Harry Potter)

[drewsephrry]

everybody moved on, help im still at the restaurant

[omenics]

YAY I'm glad you want to write vamps!! I always welcome more Castlevania Dracula x reader content! feel free to choose the general scenarios, but if you're comfortable writing it I'd love to hear about how he handles being tempted by your blood 👀

𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐀.

› ..your taste is like ambrosia, the nectar of the gods. gn reader. — i got carried away with this guys vampires draw out the worst in me LMAO. if this is too intimate and eyebrow raising im sorry i love vampires and their stupid metaphorical actions for romance.

Dracula is ancient. He is old. He has walked the earth for centuries, and has learned to ease his bloodlust. Yes, he is very well-acquainted with the temptations that comes with vampirism, and he does his best to keep his fangs clean, for he is mot the man he once was.

It is enticing. The smell that emits from your pretty pulse points, the way your heartbeat echoes and reverberates off of the castle walls drive his bloodlust farther. But he holds back. He will not succumb to his primal instincts. Not yet, at least.

But the day will come. He knows it will, for when your neck flaunts itself through the collar of your clothes he feels his façade slip and his hunger grow.

So the day comes, he holds a hand gingerly and sinks his teeth into your wrist. No, it is not the neck, but he feels like this is more appropriate than biting you in such an intimate place. He would not do anything you did not wish and would take it slowly, which is why his fangs would dip into the supple skin of your wrist; to ease you into the puncturing pain that will become familiar to you.

To Vlad, the act is intimate. He savours it, taking his time to ensure comfort and relish in the taste, smell, and essence. So when the time comes and his fangs graze your neck, he feels your pulse quicken under his lips, and his hand would make its way to the side of your head and softly entangle it in your hair, craning your head to the side for better access. Agonizingly slow his fangs would pierce into your flesh, drinking like a starved dog.

If he could he would stay there for eternity, to bleed you dry because your blood tastes like ambrosia, the food of the gods. He will not succumb to such basic and primal instincts no matter how much he wants to. He will not become more of a monster than he already is. Instead he would drink in the gasps that leave you, the pained hitch in your breath when he punctures your neck. He would not try to soothe you, too drunk on the taste he neglected for so long.

But the way it tastes on his tongue would drive him mad. It would simultaneously ease his bloodlust and drive it, making him want more. Enticing you were, so utterly cruel, but he would not lose himself in your scent. He would not allow it. You would not be a personal blood-bank for him, you are so much more than that.

You are his Achilles heel with your sweet taste. You would make him crumble to his knees just for a taste. He is weak for you, your scent and your smell. He becomes nothing more than a starved man when his fangs puncture your neck and tongue lap up the sweet, sweet nectar that oozes out and down your sweet skin.

[madhatterbri]

New Traditions | E.M.

Summary: Elijah comes up with a new holiday tradition. 18+.

"You don't have to do all this extra work for us. Let me help you relax," he whispered in your ear and nipped it playfully. His hands grabbed your waist and sat you on his lap. You planted your feet on the ground to stand up but his hands held you firm.

"Elijah," you whined yet stopped when he wrapped an arm around you. Kisses were planted on your neck. You wiggled feeling him hard against you.

"Let me take care of you, darling. I'll do all the work," he smiled and unbuttoned your pants. The zipper came undone allowing his hand to slide in your panties. You whimpered feeling his finger touch your core. Your back rested against him while your head laid on his shoulder. "Being such a good hostess. Are you going let me take care of you?"

Your eyes closed as you nodded. He smirked at your agreement. Usually he would have to convince you to play with him while you were in business mode. He played with your clit enjoying your whimpers and moans.

"I have to get back to planning Thanksgiving," you whispered hoarsely. Of course you didn't want to but Thanksgiving wouldn't plan itself. Once you were good and wet he slipped a finger inside of you. You hated how you reacted to him.

"Shhh, darling, remember I'm going to take care of you," Elijah reminded you. Your legs dangled around his. The risk of being caught by one of his siblings made this more enjoyable. "This is what is going to happen. I'm going to bend you over this table and have my way with your pretty little body. Do I make myself clear?"

He added another finger inside of you. Your body clenched around his fingers never wanting them to leave. The way he spoke to you always made you feel hotter.

"Use me," you whimpered. You buried your head against his neck. Your hand rubbed his cheek. Your hips had a mind of their own. They matched each thrust of his fingers. He shuddered yet focused on the task at hand.

"Oh trust me, I will, but for now let's see how many pretty sounds you can make with just my fingers," he teased. The thrust of his fingers picked up in pace as did your hips. Each thrust met with an 'ah' as you felt his fingers curl inside of you.

You brought your head back. Your breath quickened as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. The knot in your stomach tightened before releasing. His fingers covered in your juice. You gasped as you looked at the mess on his pants.

"Don't worry about that. Let's get you bent over this table. I can't wait much longer," he confessed. He helped you to your feet and lowered your pants and panties. He slapped your ass playfully as he watched you bend over. A sight before him that he could never get tired of. His pants impossibly tight around him.

"Beautiful," he whispered and stood up. Your heart swelled with pride at the compliment. The sound of a belt being unbuckled and a zipper being pulled down sounded in the room. He lowered his boxers and pants to his ankles.

You cried out his name as he entered you. The way the table moved with each thrust back and forth. Your body clenched on to him once more. Your cheek rested on the table. He snaked his fingers in your hair and pulled slightly.

"A year ago you were my shy little girl. Now look at you. The servants can hear your slutty little mouth moan," he teased. His hand reached around to your oversensitive clit. He thumbed it making you cry out louder.

"T-too much," you whined feeling your knees shake. He mocked you not relenting on his treatment of your body. Elijah knew what you could and couldn't take. Sure enough within seconds you were moaning for him to never stop.

He could feel your orgasm coming the moment your body gripped him tighter. The rush of fluids from your second orgasm nearly pushed him out of you. He gripped your hips and thrusted rougher. The sound of sweaty skin slapping each other echoed in the dining room.

"Look at you. Allowing me to stuff you where our family and friends are going to eat. What would they think?" He asked. His breath ragged as his hands gripped your waist harder. One final messy thrust and he stopped inside of you. He was never one to waste a single drop not inside of you.

He waited to catch his breath before slipping out of you. The absolute mess he left behind was enough to make him want more. You slowly stood up from the table. With his assistance, your panties and pants back to where they were moments ago. He fixed his own clothing.

"Let's plan the same for Christmas Eve," he whispered making you melt.

[spencestiel-michelle]

*JJ and Penelope serve pasta at BAU Thanksgiving dinner*

Derek: why are they so big? 

Penelope: if you let them sit in the water longer, they grow. 

Rossi: they? when did we start personifying food? 

Hotch: you’d be lucky if they don’t start naming each individual macaroni. 

Emily: i’ll call this one *stabs one rigatoni w/ fork* Ronaldo. 

Reid: this one here *scoots one rigatoni w/ fork* this is Matilda. 

Hotch: 

Rossi, already eating: you asked for it. 

[mamaestapa]

yes pls omg one with joe 🥺

Baked With Love…|| Joe Burrow x reader

•pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

•summary: You and Joe spend “Thanksgiving Eve” baking together

•warnings: fluff, Joe gets a little frisky, allusions to sex…

“Joey,” you said your boyfriend’s name in a sing songy tone, “It’s pumpkin pie time.”

Joe chuckled and walked into the kitchen, setting his phone down on the countertop of the island and pulling out a chair to sit on.

“Finally,” he sighed out, “you don’t know how long I’ve been looking forward to this.”

Today, you and Joe (well, mostly you) have been working hard in the kitchen, preparing desserts to take to your “friendsgiving” tomorrow at the Wilson’s. You and Joe agreed to make the desserts since neither one of you were too skilled when it came to preparing the actual dinner.

Earlier you made an apple pie and a batch of snickerdoodle cookies, deciding to save the pumpkin pie for last. You had Joe help you get out all of the ingredients that were needed to make his favorite dessert. Once all of the ingredients were spread out on the counter, you pulled out your grandfathers pumpkin pie recipe from the kitchen drawer where you kept the handwritten recipes to some of yours and Joe’s favorite foods. You set the recipe down on the counter, eyes scanning over the instructions.

You walked over to Joe and wrapped your arms around his torso, letting your chin rest on his shoulder as you held onto him.

“I’ll let you decide what you want to do. Crust or filling.” You said, giving him options to choose from even though you knew which one he’d pick.

“Filling.

Yep. You knew it.

“Perfect,” you replied with a sweet smile. You removed your arms from Joe’s body, reaching out to grab his hand instead so you could pull him off the barstool and over to the mixer. You gave him the ingredients needed for the filling, along with the specific instructions on how to make it perfect.

After Joe was situated by the mixer, you began to make the crust. It wasn’t too difficult to make as you’ve made it a couple times before on your own, but it was still a process that included very careful and precise measurements—it’s probably a good thing you’re making the crust and Joe isn’t.

As the two of you were hard at work putting together the pumpkin pie in a comfortable silence, you thought about how you could use some music right now…

“We need some music going right now.” Joe suggested as he opened the can of pumpkin filling.

It’s almost like he read your mind..

“You should play some Kid Cudi,”

You sighed at Joe’s song selection suggestion. It’s not that you didn’t like Kid Cudi because you really did like him and his music. However…that’s all Joe has been playing while you baked. You needed a break from Man on the Moon.

“I agree, we do need music, but can it not be Kid Cudi though?” You asked as you rolled the dough over the floured counter. Joe gasped lightly, sounding slightly offended as he said, “But I thought you liked Kid Cudi?”

You chuckled softly as you turned to look at your boyfriend. “I do,” you said with a nod, “but it’s all we’ve listened to today babe. I need a change.”

“No Taylor Swift.” Joe said, pointing at you and giving you the look.

“How about Tame Impala? We both like them.”

“Deal.”

You smiled triumphantly and clicked shuffle on your Tame Impala playlist that was full of yours and Joe’s favorite songs. Borderline began playing, making you and Joe instantly break out into your own little dances while you prepared the pumpkin pie.

Once Joe was finished with the filling and satisfied with how well it was spiced, he brought the bowl over to you so you could put it into the pie pan lined with the crust dough. You thanked Joe for making the filling before scooping it out onto the crust. You evened the filling out before putting it into the oven to bake.

As you leaned down to put the pie in the oven, you felt a pair of hands cup your butt and squeeze gently before quickly pulling away. You yelped at the contact, slamming the oven shut and whipping around to look at Joe, who was a chuckling mess.

“Joe!” you yelped, “what the hell?” You laughed as you finished your sentence. Joe held his hands up, his laughter only growing when he watched your mouth gape open. His hands were covered in flour, meaning there were definitely two white hand prints on your butt right now.

You let out a laugh before prancing over to the counter covered in flour. You grabbed a handful of flour and held your hand up, “Come here Joey.”

Joe chuckled and slowly made his way over to you, “Lay it on me, sweets.”

You took the flour in your hand and rubbed it all over Joe’s black t-shirt, making sure to leave extra white patches over his pecs and abs. Joe reached over and grabbed more flour, throwing it onto the top of your head. You shrieked and grabbed more flour, doing the same thing to Joe. You were both laughing messes as you had a flour fight in the kitchen for a good two minutes. However, the fight stopped when Joe got a handful of flour, rubbed his hands together, and left two handprints on your boobs. You looked down at the white handprints on your sweater. Joe’s handprints looked huge on your chest…

You don’t know what came over you, but you flung yourself at Joe, kissing him harshly. He seems taken aback at first, but he smirked into the kiss as he realized his idea had worked. It’d been a little while since the two of you have been intimate…

When you both pulled away for Joe, Joe huskily ordered you to jump. You did as he said, jumping slightly as he helped you up and sat you on the counter. The two of you made out heavily for the next couple minutes before you remembered how messy the kitchen was. You pulled away from Joe, glancing at the mess on the floor and countertop across from you before looking back at your boyfriend.

“Someone should clean up the mess we made.”You said, cocking your head to the side and giving Joe a pointed look. He just smirked as his hands trailed up your sides, resting on your rib and cupping the side of your left breast.

“Just wait…” he trailed off as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “because that won’t the only mess we made that’ll have to be cleaned up.” He bit down softly on your earlobe, tugging it gently before pulling head away from you. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as you looked into Joe’s intense blue eyes gaze.

A smirk pulled at your lips as you wrapped your arms Joe’s neck, clawing at his back as you harshly crashed your lips against his.

Pumpkin pie wasn’t the only sweet thing Joe was going to be tasting tonight…

hi loves!!

i don’t know why i made this a little spicy? i wanted to do something fluffy but as i started writing, i was like mmmm no i should do this instead😌

anyways, i hope you’re enjoying these thanksgiving/holiday blurbs! i’ve gotten some fun requests to go along with the ideas i had too :) i’ll probably post one more tonight, and do the rest tomorrow…because there’s a lot lol

hope you all have a great day/night😚🤍

[bahrtofane]

jude helping you in the kitchen because you’re hosting his family for dinner and youre running around at 100 miles an hour trying to find that damn stick of butter, it was just in your hand come onn

all while jude is having the time of his life taking his time gingerly cutting potatoes into neat little squares (roasted potatoes are a must)

"am i doing good?" he pipes up, already done with 3 Potatoes, youre so proud of him

you scramble over to him with a pound of meat in your hand, "yes love youre doing great."

he beams, wiggling his shoulders happily, "what do i do with them?"

you set down the meat on the counter while grabbing what you can from the spice cabinet, "the potatoes? just put them into a big bowl and ill worry about them."

he hums, going to get said big bowl while you run back to the fridge. you need asparagus how could you forget!

he manages to get the squares off the cutting board and into the bowl without much hassle, and you’ve started getting your pans out for the meat and asparagus. the squash is in the oven all ready, you need to make room for your lamb when its time though, desert also needs to get started, oh your mini quiches you completely forgot.

you slide back over to the fridge, the dough you made this morning, grabbing it and some flour. the lamb can wait while you get the crusts in the oven.

by the time jude looks back over at you, your covered in flour.

he snorts, "looks like you lost a fight to a baker."

"very funny jude, get the asparagus in the pan please and keep an eye on the squash for me while i finish getting the dough ready."

he puts the cutting board to the side, wiping his hands on a paper towel "yes ma'am."

you feel like gordan ramsey, barking our orders and running around with enough stress to last a life time. and you tell people you love cooking. pfft. sure. poor jude only follows you, doing what you ask. hes even worm a silly apron with big red words "kiss the chef" plastered on them. he thought it was the funniest thing ever. it was pretty funny you admit.

you spend too much time balling up little wads of aluminum foil for the crusts but jude keeps everything else in order, and before you know it in they go, out the squash comes, and you get started on the meat.

you love lamb, you hate the amount of pans and pots it takes though. first you sear, then you transfer to the oven while you sear off vegetables in the same pot, in they go with the lamb, pull them out, blend them with left of lamb juice at the bottom of the pan, boom you have a little gravy.

jude gasps and for a moment you think he'd burned himself, but he turns around with a stick of butter in his hand.

you light up, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "i love you," taking the butter and adding it to the asparagus.

somehow, someway, all your courses get done just on time, the deserts in the fridge, jude cleaning up the last of the kitchen while you get changed.

you come back down to greet the family, plating their food and basking in the praises they sing after every bite.

you love cooking !

[tootiecakes234]

You cannot tell me that for friendsgiving Katsuki Bakugo is not cooking the entire fucking meal.

He already gets up early but that morning you have to get up early with him because you are his certified taste tester. Everything he cooks goes through you cuz he knows he’s gonna like his food but he has to make sure YOU like his food.

He could give a fuck what any of his friends think because he knows either way they are going to scarf it down.

He also needs you up and in the kitchen with him the entire day because you guys have gotten so in sync you’re handing him things before he even asks for them and keeping his friends in check so he can actually finish on time.

Food always smacks… never any leftovers because Bakusquad eats down!😭

[kiwriteswords]

Something To Be Thankful For

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: With Thanksgiving in the US next week, I could not help myself! Started writing this one last week and debated on posting, but here we are. Enjoy! Grateful for this community! (Also needed to post this before I move onto writing some Christmas content, lol!)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Tags/Warnings: Thanksgiving, fluff, domestic moments, holiday traditions, family dynamics, slow burn, new relationship, found family, mentions of grief, mentions of wine/alcohol, and food TW.

Sypnosis: When you accept an unexpected Thanksgiving invitation from Aaron Hotchner and his son Jack, a simple holiday dinner becomes something more. Through shared laughter, heartfelt moments, and the warmth of a home-cooked meal, you discover the beauty of connection and the quiet joy of being exactly where you belong.

You were shuffling papers into your go-bag when you heard a knock on the edge of your desk. Glancing up, you were greeted by Hotch’s warm smile, softer than the one he wore in the field but still undeniably him. It was a smile you’d only recently gotten used to—the kind of smile that reminded you things between the two of you were no longer strictly professional.

The bullpen was quieter than usual. Most of the team had already left for the extended Thanksgiving break. Morgan had been the first to bolt, teasing everyone about having a “real” meal with family, while Garcia had dragged Reid out the door, insisting he couldn’t spend the holiday with nothing but his books for company. Rossi had a feast he was looking forward to slaving over, and you could still hear Emily groan at having to see her mother. JJ, however, was looking forward to the domestic Thanksgiving she was hosting. Now, it was just you and Hotch left, lingering in the familiar silence of the BAU.

“You’re not headed out yet?” Aaron’s voice broke the silence, low and thoughtful, drawing your attention away from your bag. He stood near your desk, hands in his pockets, his tie slightly loosened from the day.

“Just tying up some loose ends,” you replied, zipping your bag shut and brushing a stray hair from your face. “You?”

He hesitated, his gaze shifting from your bag to you and then back again. His expression was softer than usual, but his shoulders still carried that ever-present weight. “Actually, I wanted to ask what your plans are for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, nothing special.” You shrugged, keeping your tone light and breezy. “My family’s out of state, so I’ll probably just stay in. Maybe I’ll cook something small and watch some cheesy holiday movies. You know, the usual.”

Aaron frowned slightly, the crease between his brows deepening, and you immediately regretted how casually you’d phrased it. His concern was unmistakable, and it made your stomach flip.

“You’re spending it alone?” he asked, his voice a touch lower, softer.

“Well, yeah,” you said lightly, trying to shrug it off. “I didn’t think traveling back for just a few days made sense. Plus, it’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

He didn’t respond right away, and his silence made you look up at him. There was something unreadable in his expression, a quiet thoughtfulness that always made you feel like he saw more than you ever intended to show. His lips pressed together briefly, and then his shoulders relaxed just a fraction. When he finally spoke, there was a quiet determination in his tone.

“Then join me and Jack.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Join us,” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice gentler this time. “It’ll just be the two of us. Jessica is with Haley’s family, and Sean… well, who knows where he is. There’s plenty of room at the table.”

“Oh, Aaron, I don’t want to intrude—”

“You wouldn’t be,” he interrupted, his tone firm but not unkind. He stepped closer still, and now his eyes held yours with an intensity that left no room for doubt. “Jack would love to have you there. And so would I.”

Your throat tightened at his sincerity, and for a moment, you could only stare at him. This was Aaron Hotchner—stoic, composed, sometimes impossibly guarded. But now, he was standing in front of you, asking you to spend Thanksgiving with him and his son. It was more than an invitation—it felt like a gesture, an opening to something you hadn’t dared to hope for.

The two of you hadn’t discussed Thanksgiving before this. Your relationship was still new, so new that you’d intentionally avoided bringing up the holiday, not wanting to impose or create any kind of awkward expectation. But here he was, offering exactly what you hadn’t dared to ask for.

“You’re sure?” you asked, your voice quieter now, hesitant.

“I’m very sure,” he said, his voice soft but resolute. “You shouldn’t spend the holiday alone. And honestly…” He paused, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “It wouldn’t feel right without you.”

Aaron could see the uncertainty flickering in your expression, but he also saw the moment it gave way to something warmer, something that made his chest tighten. He hadn’t planned to ask—not until he saw you standing there, zipping up your bag with a casual mention of spending the day alone. The thought of you sitting by yourself, piecing together a small meal, felt wrong in a way he couldn’t ignore.

You nodded, the weight of his sincerity breaking through your hesitation. “Okay. I’ll come.”

The relief that washed over his face was subtle but unmistakable, and his small smile made your chest feel impossibly light. “Good. I’ll pick you up tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” you said, unable to stop the smile spreading across your lips. “Sounds perfect.”

As the two of you walked to the elevator, silence filled the space, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You felt his presence next to you, steady and sure, and your mind raced with the implications of spending Thanksgiving with him and Jack. It was new territory, uncharted and a little daunting, but the thought of sitting at his table—laughing, sharing stories, carving turkey—filled you with a warmth that hadn’t been there before.

Aaron glanced at you as you both stepped into the elevator, catching the faint trace of a smile on your lips. For him, the idea of having you there wasn’t just about avoiding loneliness; it was about inviting you into something that mattered to him. Jack needed to see that warmth, that joy again. And, quietly, so did he.

The morning of Thanksgiving arrived, and your kitchen looked like a crime scene—a deliciously fragrant, pumpkin-filled crime scene. Flour dusted the counter, a rolling pin was haphazardly balanced against a bowl, and the golden-brown crust of your homemade pumpkin pie was cooling on a rack, mocking you with its imperfect edges.

“This has to be perfect,” you muttered, frowning as you adjusted the spices in the filling for the third time. Despite your best efforts, doubt lingered like a stubborn stain. You didn’t want to bring just any dessert to Aaron and Jack’s Thanksgiving table; it had to be flawless.

But the pie wasn’t your only problem.

Your bedroom was a disaster zone. A few blouses were draped over the chair, rejected dresses lay in a heap on the bed, and a pair of black heels you’d pulled from the back of your closet sat mockingly on the floor. Every outfit you tried on felt wrong—too formal, too casual, or just not you.

After tossing yet another top onto the growing pile, you grabbed your phone and hit Aaron’s contact. The second you heard his warm, familiar voice on the other end, you started rambling.

“Hey, okay, so, uh, what’s the dress code for today? Like, should I wear a dress? Or maybe a nice top and jeans? Or should I do something fancier? I don’t want to overdo it, but I also don’t want to look like I didn’t try—oh God, what if I look like I’m trying too hard? Are we doing photos? Do I need to plan for that? Aaron—”

“Hey,” he interrupted, a soft laugh threading through his voice. “Take a breath.”

You paused, clutching the phone tightly as you exhaled. “Sorry. I’m just… overthinking.”

“I can tell,” he said, still chuckling. “But you don’t have to. Trust me.”

“How can I not overthink? It’s our first holiday together, and I don’t want to mess it up,” you admitted in a rush.

“You won’t,” he assured you, his tone gentle. “Honestly, you’re adorable when you get frazzled like this.”

Your cheeks heated at his words, and before you could protest, he added, “Jack’s still in his pajamas. And as for me… well, I’m not exactly pulling out a suit for dinner at home. Something comfortable is perfectly fine.”

“Wait—Jack’s still in his pajamas?” you asked, blinking in disbelief, looking at the clock on your nightstand.

“Yes,” Aaron said, clearly amused. “And he’ll probably stay in them until I convince him to change for dinner. So, whatever you’re comfortable in will be perfect. You don’t need to try for us.”

His words sank in, melting some of the tension in your chest. “Okay,” you said quietly, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. “Thank you. I think I needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he said softly. “Now, how’s the pie coming along?”

You glanced toward the kitchen, where the scent of nutmeg and cinnamon lingered in the air. “It’s… well, it’s not going to win any awards for presentation, but I think it’ll taste good.”

“That’s all that matters,” Aaron said. “We’re looking forward to it—and to seeing you.”

Your stomach fluttered at the warmth in his voice. “Me too,” you murmured, suddenly feeling a lot calmer.

“Good. I’ll be there soon to pick you up. Take your time finishing up.”

“Okay. Thanks, Aaron.”

After you hung up, you felt the lingering anxiety dissolve. You ditched the fancy outfit idea and settled on your favorite pair of jeans and a cozy sweater. Then, you went back to the pie, focusing on getting the filling just right while you waited for him to arrive.

When the familiar black SUV pulled into your driveway, you took a deep breath, balancing the still-warm pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag filled with carefully packed containers in the other. You barely had time to lock the door behind you before Jack jumped out of the car and bounded up to meet you, a wide grin on his face.

“Hi!” he chirped, his excitement palpable. He glanced at the pie in your hands. “Is that dessert?”

“It sure is,” you said, crouching slightly to meet his gaze. “And there’s more where that came from. I hope you’re hungry.”

“Oh, I’m always hungry,” Jack said with a dramatic sigh, making you laugh.

Aaron approached a moment later, his brows lifting in surprise as he took in the scene. You were balancing a picture-perfect pumpkin pie in one hand and a bag in the other, your face flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves.

“Pumpkin pie and—what’s in the bag?” he asked, his tone light with curiosity.

You straightened, holding the bag up with a sheepish smile. “Homemade stuffing. And a couple of bottles of wine.”

Aaron blinked, his lips curving into an amused smile. He had expected you to bring the pumpkin pie you raved about, knowing how thoughtful you were, but this was above and beyond. “You didn’t have to go all out.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” you replied, shrugging. “It felt weird to show up empty-handed.”

“And the wine?” he asked, his tone teasing as his gaze flicked to the bottles tucked in the side pocket of the bag.

“One red, one white,” you said, grinning. “You like red, I like white, and I’m not driving, so… why not?”

Aaron chuckled softly, shaking his head. You’d thought of everything. “Fair enough. Why not?”

Jack reached for the bag, eager to help, but Aaron gently intercepted it. “Let me carry that,” he said, taking the bag and pie from you. “You take it easy. We’ve got this.”

As he walked back to the car, his thoughts lingered on you. He’d always admired your attention to detail, but this? This was another level. It wasn’t just the food or the wine—it was the thoughtfulness behind it. You’d taken the time to think about what would make the day special, not just for him but for Jack, too. It tugged at something deep in him, quiet gratitude that he wasn’t facing this day alone anymore.

The drive back to Aaron and Jack’s apartment was quiet and peaceful, the kind of stillness that only came with holidays. The roads were nearly empty; the world seemingly paused for the day.

Jack filled the silence, animatedly telling you about how his dad had let him help with the turkey that morning.

“Well, I didn’t really touch the turkey,” Jack admitted, grinning. “But I got to pick the seasoning!”

From the driver’s seat, Aaron couldn’t help but smile. Jack was practically beaming, his excitement contagious. Aaron found himself glancing at you in the rearview mirror, the way your eyes lit up as you listened to Jack’s story.

“You’ve got a good sous chef there, Aaron,” you teased, glancing at him. He gave you one of those small, subtle smiles that you were quickly learning to adore.

The warmth of your voice settled something in him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d been dreading this day, how empty it had felt knowing Jessica was away and Sean was off doing who-knew-what. But now, with you in the car and Jack’s laughter filling the space, it felt… full. It felt right.

“Well,” Aaron said, his lips twitching into a faint smile, “he might be better at seasoning than I am.”

Jack let out a laugh, and you joined in, the sound weaving through the quiet hum of the car. Aaron’s chest tightened for a moment—not in discomfort, but in recognition. This was something he hadn’t allowed himself to hope for in a long time: the beginnings of a new kind of family, one that made the holidays feel like home again.

When you arrived at the apartment, Aaron carried your things while you shrugged off your coat. He set the bag down carefully and returned to you, his hands outstretched to take your coat. His gaze lingered a little longer, studying your face before trailing down to your outfit. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low and warm. The sincerity behind it made your heart skip.

You glanced down at your outfit—a simple pair of jeans and a soft sweater—and flushed. “This? It’s nothing fancy.”

“I know,” he replied, his smile growing slightly. “That’s why I like it. You could be wearing sweats, and you’d still look great.”

Your chest fluttered at his words, and you smiled shyly. “Thanks, Aaron.”

He hung your coat with an easy familiarity, glancing back at you as if he wanted to say more but chose to keep it to himself. For a moment, the quiet in the room felt heavy with something unspoken, but then Jack broke the silence, bounding toward you with the same enthusiasm he’d shown when he first greeted you.

“Come on! We’re setting the table,” Jack said, grabbing your hand and tugging you toward the dining area.

“Lead the way,” you said with a laugh, letting him guide you.

Aaron stood by the doorway to the kitchen for a moment, watching the two of you go. Jack was chatting animatedly about napkin folding techniques he’d learned from his Aunt Jess, and you were smiling, nodding along with genuine interest. Aaron turned back to the kitchen, his chest tightening—not from stress, but from something softer, more hopeful.

The next half hour passed in a warm flurry of activity. While Aaron focused on the turkey, you and Jack worked together to set the table. Jack insisted on folding the napkins into what he called “turkey shapes,” even though they looked more like triangles, and you encouraged his efforts as if he were crafting masterpieces.

“You’re a natural,” you told him as he carefully adjusted a plate.

He grinned up at you, his pride clear. “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a playful wink, and Jack’s grin widened even more.

From the kitchen, Aaron glanced over at the two of you. His hands stilled on the turkey baster as he watched Jack eagerly showing you his handiwork, your laughter mixing with Jack’s excited chatter. The sight made something settle in him, a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time spreading through his chest.

He shifted his focus back to the turkey, his mind wandering to how easily you’d fit into their dynamic. It wasn’t forced, wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was natural, like you’d been part of their little family all along. He shook his head slightly, the faintest smile lingering on his lips as he resumed preparing dinner.

The apartment filled with the warm, savory aroma of roasting turkey, the clinking of plates as Jack adjusted the table settings, and the soft hum of conversation. Occasionally, you glanced toward the kitchen, where Aaron worked with quiet efficiency, a faint smile playing at the edges of his expression whenever he caught your eye.

Jack’s laughter echoed brightly, and Aaron chuckled softly in response, the sound grounding the space in warmth and comfort. It had been a long time since Thanksgiving had felt like more than just another day, but with you here, it felt different. It felt like something new, something he wanted to hold onto.

The table was set, the food was ready, and the apartment buzzed with a warmth that felt almost tangible. Jack had insisted on lighting the small candle centerpiece he’d picked out, proudly declaring it “fancy.” You couldn’t help but laugh as he adjusted the napkins for the third time, clearly taking his job very seriously.

Aaron carried the turkey to the table, the golden skin glistening perfectly, and Jack’s eyes widened in awe. “Whoa, Dad, it looks awesome!”

“Thanks, buddy,” Aaron said, his lips quirking into a small smile. His gaze flickered toward you for a moment, something softer lingering there before he gestured for everyone to take their seats.

As the three of you settled in, Jack’s excitement bubbled over. “Can we eat now? Please?”

Aaron shook his head, chuckling. “Not quite yet, Jack.” He leaned forward slightly, his gaze warm as he looked between you and his son. “Before we start, I think it’s only right that we share what we’re grateful for.”

Jack groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “Dad…”

“Come on,” Aaron said with a faint smirk. “It’s tradition.”

Jack sighed dramatically, but you could tell he didn’t mind as much as he pretended. Aaron turned to you, a slight tilt of his head. “Would you like to go first?”

You blinked, caught off guard, but quickly smiled. “Sure.” You looked at Jack, then at Aaron, and for a moment, your words caught in your throat. “I guess… I’m grateful for this,” you said softly. “For being here, for both of you. This is the kind of thing I’ve always dreamed of—a warm meal, good company, and moments that feel like home.”

Aaron’s expression softened, his gaze steady as he nodded. Jack beamed at you, clearly pleased by your answer.

“My turn!” Jack piped up. “I’m grateful for… um… pie!” He grinned mischievously before quickly adding, “And Dad. And you,” he said, looking at you shyly. “And for not having to eat Brussels sprouts this year.”

That earned a laugh from both you and Aaron, and Jack grinned, proud of himself. Aaron’s smile lingered as he turned his attention to Jack.

“Well, I’m grateful for you, Jack,” he said, his tone soft but steady. “And for this… for today. It’s been a while since Thanksgiving felt like Thanksgiving.”

His gaze shifted to you, and there was something unspoken in his eyes, a depth that made your breath catch. “I’m grateful for you,” he said simply. “For being here.”

The words were gentle but carried a weight that settled over the table like a warm blanket. Jack didn’t notice the brief pause that followed, busy trying to decide what part of the turkey to claim first, but you felt it—the quiet sincerity of what Aaron had said.

As the meal began, the conversation flowed easily, laughter punctuating the clinking of plates and utensils. The food was incredible, each dish perfectly cooked and seasoned. You found yourself marveling at Aaron’s skill in the kitchen.

“This is amazing,” you said between bites of turkey. “I can’t believe you pulled all of this together.”

“Dad’s a really good cook,” Jack said proudly. “He always lets me help.”

Aaron glanced at you, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks at the praise. “I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said quietly, his tone tinged with modesty.

The meal stretched on, each bite more delicious than the last, but it wasn’t just the food—it was the atmosphere. The apartment felt alive in a way it hadn’t in years. For Aaron, this was the first Thanksgiving he hadn’t spent alone with Jack since Haley passed. The ones before that—when he and Haley were divorced—had been different, fractured in a way he tried not to dwell on.

But tonight? Tonight was different. It wasn’t just the food or the laughter; it was the way you fit so effortlessly into this moment. It was the way Jack’s eyes lit up when you praised his napkin folding, the way your laugh softened the edges of his own grief, the way you leaned into this space like it was where you belonged.

Aaron leaned back slightly, watching you and Jack talk animatedly about the pie, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t painful but full. It had been years—years—since he’d felt this kind of warmth during a holiday. Not since Jack was a baby, not since he and Haley had been on the same page. This wasn’t just a good Thanksgiving. This was a piece of something he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing.

For you, this moment was everything you’d dreamed of when you thought about falling in love someday. Not the grand gestures or big declarations, but this—the little moments. The laughter shared over a meal, the warmth of a family gathering, the simple joy of being wanted somewhere.

As the evening wore on, Jack began to nod off at the table, and Aaron scooped him up, promising him a slice of pie tomorrow. You helped clear the dishes, and the quiet rhythm of the task ground you both in the moment. Aaron glanced at you as you set the last plate in the sink, his expression soft.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“For being here,” he said simply, the weight of his gratitude clear in his voice.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest as you replied, “Thank you for having me.” And for the first time in a long time, you both felt like Thanksgiving was exactly what it was meant to be.

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[fandomnerd9602]

Our First Thanksgiving

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Gif belongs to @abimess

You couldn’t believe it. Halloween was a blast for you and your doe hybrid mate Wanda Maximoff. You and her had enter the ‘seasons of firsts’ as you would call it.

Thanksgiving was just on the horizon. Another first holiday for your doe and you. Honestly you loved having these firsts with her. It was like new experiences to share together, to feel the joy and elation that it allows was incomparable.

Your doe had traded her jean shorts for a comfy pair of PJ pants that she wore around the house. Her little deer tail popped out the back of the pants, in truth, it gave you another reason to stare at her perfect form.

One night, about two weeks before Thanksgiving, your mate in question came running into the living room and jumped onto the couch and into your lap.

“So what are we gonna do?” She asked, her doe tail wiggling with anticipation.

“About?” You asked her right back.

“Thanksgiving!” She exclaimed. “My family never celebrated it, you know being from Sokovia and all”

“Well it’s a feast,” you replied, “a time where we gather together and share what we’ve been thankful for over the year”

“She nuzzles you, her antlers fitting just over your head, “I think you know what I’m thankful for, my buck”

You kiss her nose in response. “I promise I’m gonna make this Thanksgiving a memorable one for you, my doe”

She giggles, “I know you will”

You had no idea where to even begin. Your mind races with ideas both good and bad as you walk down the hallways of the sanctuary.

“Hey boss,” Natasha said with a smirk, “need fuel? Your brain looks like it’s running on fumes”

Natasha, your ever loyal wolf hybrid pal guides you into the break room and pours you some coffee.

“So what’s on your mind?” She asks as she gives you coffee.

“Thanksgiving. I wanna make it special for Wanda.” You explain.

“My advice…make a few vegan dishes. She’s probably not gonna want direct turkey.” Natasha explains. “But prepare a small one for me, hey I’m a carnivore after all”

“Just inviting yourself huh?” You ask with a chuckle and a smirk.

“Am I not invited?” Natasha offers a mocking offense. “I’m your buddy, your pal!”

“Of course you’re invited Nat,” you smile at her, “you’re like my sister. Closest thing I had to a family for a long time, Yelena too”

Natasha smiles, her wolf tail wagging a little. “Make some turkey tofu for the future wife, some cranberry sauce, stuffing and a green bean casserole, you’ll be good”

“Future wife?” You look at her a little confused.

“Hey just calls it as I see it. I hear wedding bells for you and your doe in your future” Natasha laughs.

You couldn’t help but blush. You heard those same wedding bells too.

Thanksgiving had arrived. You worked on both the turkey tofu for Wanda and the regular turkey for your wolf hybrid pals. Natasha borough the green bean casserole. Yelena brought the cranberry sauce, joking that she got into several scuffles for it.

Tony handled thanksgiving dinner for the sanctuary. Doctor Strange led the festivities in your place.

You, Wanda, Natasha, and Yelena held a small intimate dinner at your apartment. You had a nice fireplace loop playing on your tv. Wanda and Yelena found themselves watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade while you and Natasha worked the kitchen. Eventually, everyone took their place at your small dining table.

Wanda sat next to you, holding your hand under the table. The dinner was nice and simple, conversations faded into something jovial. The wolves couldn’t help but embarrass you by telling Wanda all about your life before her.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel blessed. She had a small family there with her. She had two wolf sisters and the love of her life.

Little did she realize how quickly that little thanksgiving dinner set up would grow over time. Eventually Natasha had to bring a bigger fold out table.

Your first thanksgiving as a couple was also your first one as a family. And as far as Wanda could see, it was just perfect.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @aloneodi @olsenmyolsen @russianredassassin @revanshand @texaswolf23 @multi-fandom-enjoyer @moonlit-imagines

[hazelsmirrorball]

Friendsgiving| Hazel Callahan

Summary: Y/n has always wished to spend the holidays with her family, and as always they are absent, so Hazel wants to make it up to her. Pairings: Hazel Callahan x Fem! Reader Warnings: toxic family.  a/n; second holiday one shot! This year I'm really in the holiday mood. Wishing you guys the best holidays and I hope you guys enjoy this. 

Y/n took a sip of her drink as she jumped her leg up and down thinking of reasons for why they hadn’t shown up. She wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they had been stuck in traffic or got lost in the way. But as Y/n watched the time pass by she got angrier by the minute. They had her number if they got lost or lost track of time they would’ve called her. She had the same number all her life. It simply pissed her off, they were four hours late. Y/n placed her glass down, swirling her fork in the empty plate in front of her. 

The only thing that had entertained her in the past hours was the ticking clock in front of her. The still surprisingly hot food taunted Y/n making her remember why she was alone in the first place. It irked her that the food was still hot. The fact that after all this effort, Y/n was there alone, with no one to share the food she spent hours making, with no one to make beautiful memories, just herself and the goddamn clock.

Y/n pulled out her phone scrolling through her social media in an attempt to live her holidays through other people's instagram stories. But as her scrolling ended up in her sister's thanksgiving post, she felt her heart drop. Her whole family is together having dinner, without her. With a sigh she got up knowing that her family wasn’t going to show up anytime soon. Y/n stared daggers at her phone while she walked towards her room to change into something more comfortable. She was pissed,  all this food, all this time wasted, just for it to be another horrible thanksgiving.

It wasn’t the first year that her family had bailed or canceled on her last minute, by now she should’ve been used to it but she still had hope that they would try to make an effort. Year after year, excuse after excuse. Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years.  She never felt appreciated by her family but at least she tried to make things right, she pushed past every bad thing they did  and continued to give them several opportunities. Yet there she was, with a kitchen beautifully decorated, with food untouched and a broken heart. 

 Y/n walked towards her room slipping on an oversized T-shirt her Hazel had given her  and the first pajama pants she found. She rubbed her eyes and dragged herself towards the living room  in an attempt to distract herself from the situation at hand. Before she sat down she walked towards her kitchen to serve herself some of the food she had on the table to later put in the fridge but her actions came to a halt when she saw an expensive car outside her house.

She rolled her eyes and angrily walked towards the front door. One of her neighbors always found pleasure in pranking her but quite frankly she didn’t feel like it not today. She was ready to yell at anyone that was behind it, she wasn’t going to accept any excuse, it was fucking over. But her anger disappeared when she saw her group of friends holding different types of beautifully decorated pans.  

“Is the party over?” Josie asked, trying to peek in while she held onto her tray filled with food. Her eyes scanned the group, her once sad exterior quickly changing as she  noticed that the four of them were wearing their pj’s. Y/n instantly smiled softly and looked at the ground, embarrassed.

“It actually never really started” Y/n laughed nervously while hugging herself trying to shield herself from anymore embarrassment.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get this party started. We will set the table and the mood while you guys talk!” PJ exclaimed while hitting Y/n’s shoulder in a form of hello pushing past her. The other girls followed closed behind PJ to the kitchen but not before both of them greeted her with warm hugs. Y/n smiled as she watched them bicker while they placed the trays on the table.

“You remembered?” Y/n asked, finally breaking the silence between the two of them.

“What do you mean?” Hazel asked innocently, her cheeks quickly turned red as she looked down to her feet avoiding Y/n’s gaze. 

“ You remembered what I told you about my family and the holidays. I thought you weren’t listening when I rambled. ” Y/n  smiled softly while pulling Hazel into a long awaited hug. Hazel hugged her back as she felt Y/n hide her face on her neck. Hse could feel Y/n’s breath on her neck sending shivers down her back. 

“I wanted you to spend it with your family. Well at least your real family. I couldn’t leave my favorite girl alone during the holidays.” Hazel whispered into her ear as she rubbed her back softly. Their bodies swayed back and forth as Isabel slowly turned on the radio to let them hear the Christmas music all over the house.  

“Your favorite girl?” Y/n asked moving her face away to look at Hazel’s flushed face. She quickly looked to the side avoiding her gaze not wanting to die of embarrassment. 

“That’s not the point, Y/n. We love you dearly and we don’t let people we love alone. I know how much you love the holidays and you deserve the best. I love you Y/n and want you to be happy. If I can make it happen I will. I swear I’ll go to the ends of the world to make you happy. As cheesy as that sounds.” Hazel  murmured in your hair while tears threatened to spill from your eyes onto her shirt.

“Stop! Now you’re going to make me cry, Callahan” Y/n said while pulling away softly and quickly holding her hands while they walked together towards the kitchen, closing the door behind them. 

“Save your tears for when you try PJ’s supposed cake, it’s horrendous.” Hazel said with a laugh squeezing her hand softly and with the other one cleaning your tears.

“Hey! I heard that” PJ exclaimed, dropping the piece of turkey she was about to eat. Y/n looked around taking in the table full of food. While all her friends sat around the table wanting for the two of them to get there to start the feast. 

“I brought a backup dessert, so no need to worry.” Brittany replied, as she pointed to the beautiful cake near her side of the table. 

“Thank you, Brittany for underestimating me. I know I can always count on you.” PJ said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes finally sitting down. Y/n and Hazel followed her actions sitting by each other. 

“I’m really thankful for you guys, really. Thank you so much for coming, you guys don’t know how much I appreciate it” 

“Thank Hazel. She was the one that planned this.” Isabel smiled towards the pair as Hazel blushed once again. 

“I think this Christmas we will have more couples under the mistletoe” 

“Shut up, PJ” 

Thanksgiving this year wasn’t what Y/n expected but it was better than she could ever imagine. That’s what she was thankful for her beautiful amazing friends and Hazel.

thank you for reading <3

[immoral-loser]

Don't Move {Sheriff Eric Newlon x f!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Synopsis: Sheriff Newlon has you cockwarm him in his office, but you just can't seem to sit still.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: nsfw 18+, dirty talk, cockwarming, p in v penetration, degradation, slight spanking, dom!eric, sub!reader,

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Main Masterlist | Sheriff Eric Newlon Masterlist

"Shh baby, you wouldn't want anyone to hear what you're doing right now, would you?" He whispers as he holds your hips down in a tight grip.

Your arms encircle his neck as you whimper, trying to stifle your moans as his length throbs inside you.

"Eric," you whine, "Please." He smirks as you attempt to grind your hips down, seeking some relief. Rough fingers dig into your hips, preventing your efforts.

"Don't move." He commands in a low growl by your ear, "This paperwork needs to be done today, sweetheart. Once it's done, I'll give you what you need."

This man was going to be the death of you. He was the one who called you, begging you to come join him on his lunch break, saying he needed to see your pretty face to get him through the rest of his day. It's his fault you're in this situation, yet he has the nerve to tell you to wait. Maybe if you readjusted yourself on his lap, you could relieve yourself a little.

"I'm not going to tell you again. Stay still." He demands, squeezing your hip before letting go and picking up his pen.

As he writes down the information of his latest crime-stopping achievement, you lay your head on his shoulder and try to focus on anything but his thick cock inside of you. His breath. Focus on his breath. His steady breath which doesn't falter whenever your walls squeeze around him, unlike yours. How does he do it? How can he be so calm? You want to see him break. Want him to be a wreck just like you are right now. But he told you not to move, to stay still. If you do anything to defy him, god knows what he'd do.

As your mind begins to wander to what his punishment would be for you, your hips automatically rolled into his.

The pen in his hand drops onto his desk, and you know you've made a mistake.

He leans back into his chair, sighing as he runs his hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." You say, trying to lessen his frustration.

"Didn't mean to? That's hard for me to believe, sweetheart, considering it's not the first or second time you've done that." He chastised.

"I really didn't-"

"I gave you one simple instruction. Do not move. And you couldn't do that." He continues, "You want to be fucked so bad - fine."

His hand swipes at his desk, scattering everything across the floor. He picks you up, his cock falling out of you as he turns you around and pushes you down face-first on his desk. He kicks your legs further apart and forces himself back inside.

"This what you wanted so badly, baby?" He asks as he starts to roughly thrust into you. You know he wants an answer but all you can manage is a small moan. After a second, you feel his palm connect with your backside harshly.

"Use your words, sweetheart," He tells you as his hand strikes you again.

"Yes!" You cry out, as the stinging sensation begins to fade.

"Yes, what?" He sternly says, not letting it go until you tell him exactly what he wants to hear.

"Yes, this is what I wanted, Sheriff!" You reply, giving into him completely.

"Good girl."

He collects your hands and holds them behind your back as his other hand holds your waist, pushing you further into the desk. His cock drives deep inside you, forcing several cries from your mouth. He groans out as your pussy tightens around him, getting closer and closer to the edge. He begins to pull you back to meet his thrusts, somehow pushing even deeper into you. The pleasure becomes too much, your eyes rolling back as an orgasm takes over.

His thrusts slow down before coming to a halt.

"Oh sweetheart," He says with false sympathy, "Surely that's not all you can take." He pulls out and rolls you over so that you are on your back. As you look up at him, you realise just how perfect this man is. With his dark silver hair, those piercing eyes that make you feel like a deer caught in headlights, and that thick cock which is currently covered in your first orgasm. Whilst admiring him, he begins to line up his dick again and quickly bottoms out before you can protest.

He grabs your thighs and hammers into you. Your moans slip out and you're unable to stop them as he fucks harshly into you.

"Such a fucking whore for me, aren't you sweetheart? Making me take you right here in my office where anyone could walk in. I should take you outside and let everyone see how much of a cockslut you are." He growls out, his grip tightening on your hips, sure to leave marks. Your walls tighten as the words leave his mouth, the thought of him forcing others to watch as he fucks you until you can no longer walk turning you on even more.

"You like that?" He asks, "You want me to show them that you're nothing but a hole for me to fuck whenever I want? Want them to see how pathetic you are as I fuck this tight pussy?" His movements become sloppier, seeking his own release. A hand leaves your hip and travels up your chest to then rest on your neck lightly, the other going down to draw circles on your clit. A tear slips from your eye as you approach your second orgasm.

"Come on baby, give me another one." He says as he puts more pressure on your throat and clit.

You can only breathe in short breaths, your hands coming up to hold his own that lays around your neck. "Fuck, Sheriff, need it." You plead as he thrusts into you one last time before you explode with pleasure. Your pussy clamps down on him and sends him over the edge, coming inside you in hot spurts.

He removes his hand from your neck and pulls out of you completely, finally allowing you to catch your breath.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he pulls out his phone and before you can comprehend what he's doing, a flash goes off. You raise yourself up on your elbows but are quickly pushed back down.

"No. Stay there until I tell you that you can move." He tells you, as he tucks his phone back into his pocket.

And so you do.

You lay on his desk with his cum leaking out of you as he goes around the room collecting everything he threw on the floor. He lays it all out around you until everything is back where it belongs. Then he picks up his pen and starts with his paperwork once more.

"Eric?" You speak quietly.

He looks at you, placing his hand on your cheek, "Yes sweetheart?"

"Can I get up now?"

"No, I'm not done with you yet." He replies nonchalantly, and he begins to write again.

[aphroditeinthesea]

thanksgiving (part 1/3)

jason grace x fem!reader ⚡️

this is gonna be a three part series of jason and y/n celebrating thanksgiving bc tis the season!!

⚠️ none

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨🍁୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“You’ve never celebrated Thanksgiving?”

Jason shook his head, “I didn't really know it was a thing.”

“Baby,” she sat up, “there's no way.”

Her boyfriend laughed, shifting in the bed, “it’s true.” He tilted his head, “maybe when I was baby, I just don't remember.”

She raised her eyebrows, “we’ve been dating two years, how could I not know this?” She recounted how they never really had celebrated the holiday season together. Not until this year since they had recently moved into an apartment in New Rome.

“It’s not a big deal,” he mentioned, “what’s so great about it?”

She let out an offended breath, “hello? The Macy’s Parade, the food, the dog show? It’s one of the best holidays!”

“Dog show?”

“Oh my gods.”

It was that moment that she decided he was going to have the greatest Thankgiving there had ever been. With invites sent out to all their friends and hours spent at multiple grocery stores, she was determined to make this a day to remember.

So, when it was finally the last Thursday of the month, she snuck out of bed at six in the morning, an hour before her boyfriend usually awoke. She got to the kitchen and took out the turkey. Not considering the fact that it was frozen. She rolled her eyes and went ot preheat the oven.

“450 degrees,” she muttered, glancing at the cookbook in front of her, “gods, that’s hot.” She set the temperature on the oven before returning her focus back to teh book.

“Love,” she turned around to the sound of the deep voice. Jason stood in the doorway of their kitchen, his hair slightly messy and glasses off.

“Jase,” she smiled. She walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “I was trying to surprise you!”

“What are you doing?” He asked as his hands found their way to her hips, lightly brushing the clothed skin with his thumbs.

“Making Thanksgiving dinner,” she answered, “then later I was gonna turn on the parade on the TV,” she added, “and I invited a few of our friends for dinner, too.”

He just looked at her face, a grin at the corners of his lips.

“Is that okay?”

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “you are the greatest girlfriend I could've asked for.”

She blushed, standing on her tiptoes to return a kiss to his lips, “it’s just because I love you. You deserve a traditional holiday season.”

He looked at the oven, “I didn't know you could cook turkey.”

She giggled, “a girl can learn.”

“450 degrees? That’s hot,” he commented.

“That’s what I thought!”

[kindahoping4forever]

🚨👄🎲 The most important update of the tour tbh 🎲👄🚨

[vladdyissues]

workin' on the clone gestation AU, thanks to the kick in the ass you gave me, thought you might like to know one of the ideas in the way too big idea overflow doc now is, and I quote:

-Danny ends up shapeshifting a little to appear as Vlad's age-appropriate partner for something or other and Vlad is completely unprepared for Danny roleplaying as a silver fox while still being a cheeky smartass taking any opportunity to reference personal history in a way that makes Vlad sounf as weird as he is (e.g. "Oh we met when he wanted my collaboration on something personal, so he invited me to his creepy cheese castle and dragged me to his secret tech lab in the middle of the night.")

This could be an episode. I want this to be an episode. One where Danny learns to shift his form, both ghost half and human half, into anything he wants. (And then unwittingly gets stuck in one form and has to undertake some grueling task to change back, or wait for it to run its course.)

In the meantime, he'd be using all sorts of "old people" language and constantly having his anachronisms corrected by Vlad.

"We didn't have microwaves in the 60s, Daniel. We ate real food—suspended in a matrix of lime-flavored gelatin, the way God intended."