#but i thought this would be great for thanksgiving
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Your have you eaten boys keep cooking for us, I want to cook for them!
It may not be nearly as skillful as what they can make but hopefully theyâll still enjoy what Iâve made!
Oh wait⌠they canât eat.
But they can still taste! Hopefully theyâll still enjoy the food!
Iâve made my specialties! Pot roast, and banana cream pie!
(I went looking for actual photos of the last time I made these and I could only find a photo of the last time I made hot and sour soup. I get so caught up in getting to eat the food I forget to take pictures! But hereâs that soup photo just for fun.)
OUGH thank you so much for sharing your cooking, Robin!! these look SUPER yummy and the boys would love it. they are able to eat too, so they'd happily enjoy your cooking đĽ°
also i can totally relate to getting so caught up in eating food that i also forget to take pictures. "camera eats first?" no, i eat first đ
today is actually canadian thanksgiving so these would be great for a thanksgiving potluck!
happy canadian thanksgiving y'all! i'm thankful for all of you and the wonderful community we have in the dca fandom!!
#ask the crab#fnaf sun#fnaf eclipse#fnaf moon#fnaf dca#dca fandom#Have You Eaten? AU#Sun Have You Eaten? AU#Eclipse Have You Eaten? AU#Moon Have You Eaten? AU#crab art#digital art#bright colours#sorry for the delay!#i wanted to reply earlier#but i thought this would be great for thanksgiving#hot and sour soup sounds really good right now#with the weather getting cold recently
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resigning myself to the possibility that wonât hear from the boy again and as much as thatâs okay, Iâll be fine, life just moves the way it does, I am sad about it, and I have to know itâs okay to let myself be really sad about it
#I really hope itâs not the case still but I have to make my peace with it if it is#he was really so wonderful#it was the best seven hours Iâve had all year#in way longer than that#and I just#I really liked him. I really like him#I wanted to give it a try#I still do#but itâs past my control or say so now and has been for a while#still he said so many wonderful things#said we should hang out again before he leaves (soon!) which did not happen because he was busy#said heâd check in with me about last Friday and didnât#said during the concert that heâd get his passport and maybe we could go up to Canada together#so I wonder again and again did I say something near the end that changed his mind#that made him think differently#but then I think about how his response when I thought he was ghosting me really was the best possible reply#he had a great time and heâs sorry he didnât mean to make me worry#I gave him an out then and he couldâve taken it if thatâs how he felt#if thatâs how he feels#he said heâd be less responsive and hoped that would be okay but itâs been one text since then#radio silence since#so Iâm just waiting#waiting and thinking about a reel I saw about a couple who also met on bumble#about how the guy said to the girl that sheâd sort of ghosted him in the beginning but now theyâre married#I think about how my sister and her husband met at a similar time of year#how he came to thanksgiving and they got married eight months after meeting each other#and itâs not that I want to be married eight months from now or that I even think that heâd be the one#but chat: Iâm a romantic I always have been#and I just. I want to try#personal
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The fucking disconnect is so real.
#theo's thoughts#Story time for the people who love reading tags bc I love sharing things in the tags#So I work at a therapeutic day school and this past school year like four school days before Thanksgiving break I was asked a question#The question was if I would be willing to step up and be a long term sub in a middle school classroom#To me this was less of a question and more of a hey we need someone to do this and you're who the assistant teacher asked for#Which cool yeah fine I'll give it a go I really like that person (the assistant teacher who asked for me) and I trust her judgement on this#I was asked and accepted on Thursday. Fridayâ Mondayâ and Tuesday happen. Then three day Thanksgiving break#When we got back from break I was the teacher and it was rough at first and it sure as hell was never easy but I enjoyed it#My formal teacher observation was my boss basically going like so I see you doing all the things and the basis is there#But it's not being followed through on because of behaviors from the most unmedicated classroom I've seen in all my years working education#And now for the summer they're changing 2/3 staff that were in the room and who even knows who the teacher will be (a new hire? Maybe?)#If there truly is a new hire coming in (fed to the wolves immediately btw what a dick move) but that new hire will be the fourth teacher#These kids have had in a year? A year and a half max. The fourth. After the only thing I've been repeatedly told by admin for months#Is that we need to be stable and consistent because we may be these kids' only reliable source of that consistency and stability?#So you're going to have me come in and tell me I've done such a great job and then tell me you're moving me to 'give me a break'#Trauma informed care my fucking ass. I hope those kids raise fucking hell over it.#The brutal satisfaction of watching your own crops burn and knowing that the invaders will starve is great and all but these are kids!#They're barely just about to be teenagers (11 at the youngest and 14 at the oldest) and this is what you're going to do to them?#Yes they can be complete assholes and are often dicks to one another but they're in our school for a fucking reason? I don't get it.#Then two hours later after being told abt the changeâ the clinical director puts me as one of the three main recipients in an email#Saying that there's going to be a new student starting in that room in the summer and the real icing on the cake?#This all happens on last day before summer break. we're out of session for two weeks now and you're just dropping these changes on us now?#God I'm so fucking tired
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I don't want bother friends with a vent so I am here
#i dont want like talk too kuch about this and naybe im just feeking pathetic#but i miss the holidays i miss going grandmas every year now? i barely see her and one day shes just going to be gone#i miss christmas with them i miss thanksgiving inmiss easter even if i dont celebrate jt anymore#the concept of death has been freaking me out so bad rhis month#its been so fuckinh mich and o thought if inkept some friends xlose i wouldnt feel alone but i do i feel so aline and empty#i feel so sad that i just been fucking fakinf jt#and i tried just tale a break from everyone and it just makes me feel worse#ive spoken to mom but idk when ill be able actually get jelp im also struggling to talk to her whiut why im so upset#i moss doing stuff with dad as in going oit o miss it#does he even miss it?#i wanted to go to the planetarium wirh jim cause theyre doing a pink flyd xoncert thing but idk idk mom even seemed sad dor me#i just dont want miss out being with them only for them be gone and what would i do when theyre gone#i cantbtype i xant i fuckinf hell k just want to sleel#today was just a not great day tomorrow will be w new say when i can sleep#i hope#ill keep myself busy than ill try sleep early so i dont jave to deal with night#ive never been so scared of death before and i hste that i am now
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ugh. trying to sleep but i keep having these weird semi-fever dream type thoughts about my great grandma's old house...
#maddie meows#back before half my relatives were radicalized into hate groups (lol. đ) my family would sometimes stay the night#after thanksgiving... and this was after said great gma moved into assisted living#so the house was just like. empty most of the time afaik#i'd only ever really see it in the dark. it's a really surreal set of memories#especially since we stopped staying over there by by the time i was like... 8 ish probably???#every memory i have is so fuzzy#i guess it's just the time of year that has me reminiscing like this but what's funny is that i don't usually!!#this has to be the first time i've thought about it in years#weird#maybe i'll write down what i remember in the morning if i still care lol
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the last month of this semester has got me considering disappearing to another country more than any other moment of my life has before, which truly is saying something.
#damien.txt#i was a very depressed 13 year old into doctor who and anime. this thought has come up a lot.#all of my professors have decided they want proposals for our final essays/projects which has done nothing but#make the week before thanksgiving even more stressful than it normally is#truly i'm more of a 'condense all of the anxiety & stress into finals week' person but now the anxiety is going to be spread out#over a whole 4 weeks which. i'm not sure i can even handle fr.#anyways. the usd to yen ratio rn is really bad for japan. but truly great for anyone in america who wants to go there rn#and ohhh boy does it have me contemplating#even though i for sure do not have that kind of money rn. but also. i could.#sigh. why must academia do this to me. i just want to sleeeep i am simply a sleepy boy.........................#and i just realized i have d&d tonight which normally would be good but oh my god do i not have the time nor the energy#sigh.... i might end up skipping my modern britain class so i can take a nap#but also like. my grade is so fucked in that class. attendance is a grade and..... im telling you now it's fucked. i cant see it but. i kno#alas. i think this is a sacrifice i must make so that i can live. lowkey scared i have like a c in that class tho tbh but. we live i guess.
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Another cutesy little steddie thing. all fluff. Post vecna. 1648 words.
---
Itâs not that Eddie was a wussâŚ
Ok maybe he was, but still this was a terrifying prospect⌠asking Steve Harrington out.
It didnât help that he was getting advice from a 15 year old.
âDo you think he likes you back?â Dustin asked, tapping a pencil against his chin.
âI donât know, Henderson,â Eddie ran his hands over his face. What was he doing? âYouâre supposed to be helping me figure that out.â
Dustin tapped his chin again and looked at the ceiling.
In all honesty, Eddie would usually talk to Jeff about this stuff, but he had to be visiting his family in Ohio because of stupid Thanksgiving.
âWell, you guys hang out a lot, thatâs gotta count for something.â Dustin pointed out.
âYou hang out a lot with Sinclair and Wheeler. You wanna make out with them?â Dustin pulled a face. âThatâs what I thought.â
âI am happily in a relationship, thanks.â Dustin pointed out.
He always had a reason to point it out.
âI know, and I would like to be as well, so if we could get back to the discussion at handâŚâ
âOk, ok⌠Well, Steve hasnât really been dating recently⌠right?â
âNo, he hasnât.â
âMaybe that means something?â
âI donât know⌠He says he just hasnât met the right person yetâŚâ
âWell⌠he used âperson,â not âgirl!â Thatâs a good sign!â Dustin pointed his pencil at Eddie.
âSure, but youâre missing a key point in that statement.â Eddie sighed. Dustin squinted at him. âHeâs met me, Dustin.â
Dustinâs eyebrows shot up. âFair point.â
Eddie dropped his face into his hands. Dustin started up again.
âYour idea that Steve might like you is a hypothesis and science dictates that the only way to conclude if a hypothesis is correct is to prove it. To run experiments.â
Eddie let out a belabored sigh.
âSo, test it,â Dustin continued. âAsk Steve out.â
Eddie stared at Dustin, knowing he was right in his own little, nerd way.
âYeah⌠Ok, alright, yeah, Iâll do it.â
\\\\\\\
The next day was movie night at Steveâs with the whole crew. The kids, Nancy, and Robin were all in the living room putting out snacks and arguing about where they would sit. Eddie figured now was as good a time as any. He crossed over to the kitchen, meandering over to Steve who was waiting for the popcorn in the microwave.
âHey.â Eddie offered once he was a few feet away. Nailed it.
âHey,â Steve looked over at him, âhowâs physical therapy going? Iâve been meaning to call you, see if you needed any help.â Steve responded with a soft smile at Eddie, the kind that made all the nervous energy in him disappear. The microwave beeped and Steve pulled the popcorn out, hissing when he grabbed the hot part of the bag before dropping it in one of the big plastic bowls he had waiting.
Eddie grabbed another bag out of the box, unfolded it and handed it to Steve.
âUh, good, good, I guess. I never really know if Iâm doing the exercises right. The paper instructions are shit.â
Steve laughed at that, âYeah, Iâve been there. I could come over some time, help you figure them out?â
âUh, yeah, sure. That would be great⌠actually.â Eddie swallowed. âBut, uh, before that happens, I, uh, I have to ask you something.â Eddie stumbled over the words before looking over his shoulder, making sure no one else would be witness to him getting shot down by Steve Harrington, even if he was in a house full of friends.
âYeah?â Steve turned toward Eddie, leaned his hip against the counter, the picture of nonchalance.
âYeah,â Eddie cleared his throat, âWould you, uh, ever consider, maybe⌠shit. Start over.â Eddie clamped his jaw in a grimace before starting again. He couldnât look at Steve yet. If he saw any bit of apprehension or negative emotion, he would never actually get the full question out. âWould you like to go out⌠on a date⌠with me?â
Eddie finally looked at Steve instead of the cabinet behind his head. His initial look gave him nothing. Steve looked the same, if not a little more still, a little more focused. But he wasnât saying anything. The nervous energy was back with a vengeance and Eddie was starting to feel twitchy the longer Steve stared at him.
And then Lucas walked into the kitchen.
âIs this one ready?â he asked, pulling the bowl with the popcorn bag in it across the counter. The microwave behind Steve beeped. He was still staring at Eddie. Eddie was still staring at Steve.
âUh-huh.â Steve answered.
âShould I get that one out?â Lucas asked.
âIâll get it in a second,â Steve said, his eyes now roaming over Eddieâs face.
âI donât mind.â Lucas offered.
âDude.â Steveâs eyes finally left Eddie and he felt himself deflate a little bit, muscles twinging from where he had been clenching them. âIâll get it. Can you give us a minute?â
âOh! Uh, yeah? Sure?â Lucas replied, quickly grabbing the bowl and heading back towards the living room.
Steveâs eyes flicked back to Eddie and he felt suddenly compelled to talk. Like a tidal wave, his insecurities drowned him.
âIâm sorry. I shouldnât have sprung this on you. Iâm not your type, I know. Iââ
âYes.â
âDonât even know ifâŚâ Eddie stopped to process what Steve said. âYes? Yes, Iâm not your type or yes you⌠you want toâŚâ
âYes. Iâll go out with you.â
Eddie finally looked at Steve, really took him in instead of concentrating on not collapsing in on himself. Steve looked almost⌠shy? Nervous? There was the slightest blush on his neck, the smallest, guarded smile. He, Eddie now noticed, had been white knuckling his own arm ever since Eddie asked.
Interesting.
Eddie relaxed a little. âYeah?â
Steveâs smile grew bigger as he nodded. âYeah.â
Eddie couldnât help the smile that took over his face. He did it. He asked Steve out. And Steve said yes! Whatâs more, Steve looked caught off guard in the best way possible. âOh, just you wait, Harrington. Iâm gonna wine and dine you like youâve never been wined and dined before.â Eddie grinned.
âThe popcornâs getting cold! Whatâs taking you guys so long!â Dustin yelled from the living room.
Steve turned to the microwave to get the popcorn and Eddie reveled in Steveâs smile. The way it looked like he was restraining it, the way Steve looked lighter than he had in weeks.
They walked back to the living room together, and Eddie kicked Mike off the couch so he could sit next to Steve. Halfway through the movie, Steve slipped his hand into Eddieâs. On impulse, he pulled Steveâs hand up to kiss the back of it, before shifting closer and leaning his head on Steveâs shoulder. When he felt the press of Steveâs head on top of his he thought maybe he was dead. Maybe the bats had finished him off and he was in heaven.
He would have to thank Dustin for pushing him to ask Steve. He would never hear the end of it.
When the movie ended and everyone was leaving, Eddie hung around the living room so he would be the last to go. He refolded the blankets, rewound the tape and put it back in its box, and picked up the popcorn bowls and candy wrappers. He was in the kitchen throwing things out, thinking maybe he had enough time to run to the bathroom, when Steve reappeared.
âEveryone head out?â Eddie asked as Steve approached him.
âMhmm.â He replied before stepping around the kitchen island and stopping in front of Eddie. âCoast is clear.â
âOh yeah?â Eddie grinned, stepping closer.
âMmm,â Steve hummed before leaning in, pressing his lips to Eddieâs.
Eddie had kissed quite a few people before, boys and girls alike, but this kiss with Steve. It was different. It filled him up, distracted him from everything else so that when his back hit the counter it almost startled him.
âSorry.â Steve hummed, pulling away.
âDonât be.â Eddie managed to get out before pulling Steve back in. He was definitely in heaven. Except in heaven, he wouldnât be almost peeing his pants. Curse that whole bottle of coke.
Eddie pulled back with a soft, âshit.â
âYou okay?â Steve asked.
âYeah, fantastic, great. Except I think Iâm about to pee my pants. Donât go anywhere, Big Boy.â Eddie said before practically running to the bathroom, Steveâs surprised laughter following him down the hall.
When he got back, Steve was washing the popcorn bowls and pizza plates from earlier in the night, sweater pushed up to his elbows, the locks of hair hanging in his eyes swinging with his movements. Eddie stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Steveâs waist.
âNo one has ever asked me out.â Steve said after a few seconds.
âWhat?â Eddie let go in surprise, moving next to Steve so he could see his face. âSeriously?â
Steve nodded.
âThe way girls talked about you I would have thought they would be lining up.â Eddie mused.
âNo. Iâm the guy, you know? I mean they definitely dropped hints, but none of them asked me.â
Eddie reveled in that for a second. He was the first person to ask Steve Harrington out.
âSo, how does it feel being on the receiving end?â Eddie asked, nudging Steve.
âSo good.â Steve smiled at him, the sincerity of his words bleeding out of him so much that Eddie had to dart forward and peck him on the cheek.
âWhere do you want to go?â Eddie asked.
âYou said you were gonna wine and dine me,â Steve replied, âI trust you.â
Those words sent a bolt of pure reassurance through Eddie. âOh, Steve Harrington,â he half sing-songed, half chuckled, âIâm gonna date you so hard.â
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WIBTA if I intentionally included an allergen in some food so a racist couldn't eat it?
I (21M, white) recently found out that I have to attend a Thanksgiving meal with a terrible fucking person. My boyfriend "Tim" wants to go to his old roommate's/best friend's (Jacob) Thanksgiving. Jacob is great! He and Tim have been friends since they were kids, and Tim used to spend a lot of time at Jacob's house since his own home life was... not great. And Jacob's immediate family is wonderful, as well. However, Jacob's uncle "Dickwad" is racist. I went to Jacob's Thanksgiving last year and Dickwad was a dickwad. It started out okay, he and I talked about cars, but after a few beers Dickwad was very clearly racist. He also kept bragging about how he threatened a homeless man with a gun (the homeless man was trying to break into his car - it's pretty common in this area) and called him several racist derogatory terms. He never said the N-word, but it was only a matter of time, so I left quickly.
Well, Tim wants to go again this year. Everyone hates Dickwad but Jacob's parents say they can't NOT invite him since he's their brother. I say cut the bitch off, but it's not my family, and I don't want to leave Tim alone there since Dickwad has been cruel to Tim before (Tim is Asian and queer, but Dickwad thinks me and Tim are just friends and no one is about to tell him differently) and since I don't get to see Jacob that often. The rest of Jacob's family is chill and I know they would be disappointed if I didn't come.
Well, Tim recently informed me that if I'm making something to bring to Thanksgiving, Dickwad is allergic to cumin. How allergic? Not much. He'd get hives if he ate it, but he's fine being near it, touching it, etc. He just can't consume it. Everyone knows I love to cook, and I'm a damn good cook, too. So I'm planning on making something with cumin so Dickwad can't have any, because fuck him, and fuck his guns, too. No one else there is allergic to cumin. I figured if anyone asks, I'll tell them I didn't know/forgot. I asked Jacob what he thought and he thought it would be hilarious and told me to do it. I haven't said anything to Tim because he's a lot nicer and will probably try to stop me.
I don't know if this will get posted in time, but whatever. WIBTA if I put an allergen in food so a racist piece of shit can't eat it?
What are these acronyms?
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Give Me Everything
Pairing: Husband!Terry Richmond x Wife!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FLUFF, cursing, teasing, PIV, oral (male receiving), fingering (fem receiving), dirty talk, use of the n-word, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: Thanksgiving Day was always a hustle and bustle of activity and noise, two things you donât usually like even coming from a big family. While you flitted around checking in on everyone, you couldnât help feeling a little selfish. After sending Terry a sexy picture while he was seated next to your father, you sneak off to your childhood bedroom to fulfill a little fantasy of yours.
Word Count: 5,518k
AO3 Link
A/N: Ya'll thought I was gonna let the holiday pass without a little treat? I lost the drabble challenge, but well, can't fight my brain no matter how hard I try. Happy Thanksgiving, happy bank holiday, or however you celebrate, many love and blessings to the greatest group of people ever. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
The rich smells of Thanksgiving food permeated the air and tickled your nostrils. You inhaled deeply as you flitted around the kitchen helping out the Aunties. No one messed with the Aunties on Thanksgiving.
You didnât know how they managed to stay organized among the chaos. Between one of their husbands who constantly entered the kitchen asking when the food would be done and the little kids running throughout the house, it was a miracle they werenât yelling and cursing up a storm.
âFix me my medicine, baby,â Auntie Gee told you.
âYes, maâam,â you said. You pivoted away from helping Auntie Aileen with the yams and went over to the small pantry, grabbing supplies. You made a quick and dirty margarita for Auntie Gee and placed it in a glass. You already started in on another one because in one, two, threeâŚ
âI want one!â Auntie Mimi called out. You smiled to yourself, knowing your Aunties a little too well. Maybe you spent too much time around them all. But you wouldnât have it any other way.Â
Your big family was a handful at times. But at the end of the day, it was nothing but good vibes and great conversation. The Aunties were currently going on about their favorite man, Denzel Washington.
âThat man been fine his whole goddamn life!â Auntie Hope called from the round kitchen table. She cleaned the greens, taking the stems off and putting them into a red bowl, to be soaked in the kitchen sink a little later. Right now, your mom was at the farmhouse sink peeling potatoes.Â
âLanguage, young lady!â Your grandmother, Grammy Alice, called out from the stove. She babysat the white sauce for the mac and cheese, carefully adding cheese and stirring to get the mixture right.Â
âSorry, momma,â Auntie Hope said. She grinned at you and winked.Â
You giggled and handed Auntie Mimi her drink. âThank you baby. You better get outta here before they snatch you to do something else,â she whispered.
And thatâs why she was lowkey your favorite Auntie. You hugged and thanked her and then quietly slipped out while the Aunties discussed Denzelâs career. They categorically denounced Training Day as his best role. He was just playing a nigga, thatâs all. They were stuck between John Q and Glory.
You left the spacious kitchen in a flash, disappearing around the corner and fell into the background as you soaked everything in. The well-decorated living room held most of the men yelling and screaming at the football game playing on the TV. They sat on the blue couch, lounge chairs, and picnic chairs all crowded around the large screen TV. You didnât know a lick about the game, but by the sound of it, their team was making stupid ass decisions.Â
Kids played Monopoly on the floor, a mix of little kids and the quieter teens who didnât want to play with the older, rowdier teens outside. You carefully picked your way through the living room, stopping to place a kiss on your Dadâs withered cheek. You patted his shoulder and he brought his hand up to pat yours.
âEverything alright?â He asked.
âYes, sir. Food coming along,â you said.
He groaned aloud with the Uncles and boyfriends, everyone throwing up their hands and calling the ref out of his name.
âThey need to get that blind muâfucka off the field!â Uncle Cornell said. He was the only one semi-dressed up in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt. You didnât know where Auntie Mimi found this character.Â
Your dad chuckled, returning his attention to you. âGood, good. Iâma just sit here until your mom says itâs time,â your dad said with a secret grin. He made the mistake of entering the kitchen early one year, reaching for a piece of the ham and receiving a swift spoon to the back of the hand from Grammy Alice. He still had a little scar from how hard she popped him.Â
âProbably for the best,â you said with a giggle.Â
You left the living room, trekking through the raucous house in search for a little bit of peace. As much as you loved how big your family was, you were decidedly the opposite sometimes. You didnât draw strength from being around so many people. You craved the quiet and silence that came with being by your lonesome. Probably a consequence of being an only child.
Perhaps that was one of the main things that drew you to your husband, Terry. He was the opposite to your family as well. Calm under pressure, quiet and unassuming despite his size; he really was perfect for you.Â
You found him on the wide back porch with your cousins, sitting around a table playing dominoes. The teens and older cousins chased each other around the yard playing some game they made up years ago. You never understood the rules and your ass was too tired to continue chasing them around.
Some of the girl cousins watched their younger, baby siblings as they talked about whatever it was kids were into these days. Full. Your life was full to bursting and you wouldnât have it any other way.
You approached Terry and pecked his cheek. âHey baby,â Terry said, lowering his dominoes to the table. He turned to you and wrapped his arm around your waist from his seated position.Â
âJust checking on you, is all,â you said. âYou need anything?âÂ
Terry used his free hand to lift his half empty beer bottle. âNaw, I should be good for a minute. You need anything?âÂ
âShe needs to leave the table so I can get back to whoopinâ yo ass, Marine boy!â Your cousin, Emery, yelled as he slammed down a domino. âGo on and put that thirty-five down for your boy!â He snickered as the game keeper, Darell, laughed and marked down Emeryâs points.Â
Terry chuckled and shook his head. He peeked over at the scorecard on the notebook by Darellâs elbow. âMaybe you need to go back to math class. Iâm still winning,â Terry said.Â
A chorus of ooohâs and damnâs and âYou gonâ let him talk to you like that, playboy?â rung around the wooden table. Emery waved them all off, a small smile on his face.Â
âAlright, alright. Game ainât over. Why donât you go on? You killing the mood, girl,â Emery said.Â
âIâm killing the mood? Just like a hatinâ nigga to focus on somebody else while he losing,â you said.
âDamn!â Cousin Craig yelled out, his long skinny face cracking into a harsh, wheezing laugh that only triggered everybody else to start laughing.Â
You kissed Terry on the cheek once more, admiring the clean beard on his face. He looked good enough to eat himself. He wore a simple powder blue sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that really showcased his sexy ass. Just looking at him caused your stomach to do little belly flips.
Terry squeezed your side and smirked up at you as if he saw the direction of your nasty thoughts. He winked at you and you bid your farewell to the men and their little game.Â
The majority of the day passed too quickly as you went from group to group, checking in on everyone. The domino game ended and the cousins joined the Uncles in the living room to check on the remainder of the game.
âGirl, donât you ever sit down?â Your cousin, Robyn, asked. She was in your age group, relaxing with the other girl cousins who laid across multiple blankets, sipping their drinks of choice, and chilling out.Â
You chuckled. âGirl no. Between your momma and mine, I keep getting called to do something. And I feel like if I sit down, Iâma pass out,â you said, shaking your head.Â
Robyn and Ronda were twins of Auntie Aileenâs and they both shivered at the mention of their mother. âPlease, donât summon her,â Ronda said, shaking her head. âThat lady trynna get me set up with her co-worker.â She stuck out her tongue and gagged.
âNot toxic enough for you?â Auntie Hopeâs daughter, Stacie, asked.
âHell no! That girl likesâŚtheater,â Ronda said, making the word sound dirty. You laughed with your cousins, shaking your head at her. Ronda had the worst luck with women. Last year, one threatened to throw herself into traffic if Ronda didnât come outside to talk to her.Â
You and your cousins merely stared at her through the screen door and dared her to do it. You didnât really mean it, but the girl was dramatic as hell and too full of herself to actually go through with it.Â
âDare I go check in on the Aunties?â You asked.
There was a resounding, âNo!â, that seemed to echo even while outside. You laughed with your cousins. You were feeling restless, though. Anxious. You needed something but you couldnât quite put your finger on it.Â
Maybe it was just the holiday. You took after your mother in the sense that you had a strong need to make sure everybody was okay. Everybody had all their toes and fingers accounted for, no bruises, no yelling, or fighting. If everybody else was okay, then all was right in the world with you.Â
But sometimesâŚyou got a little impish. Like you wanted to cause trouble just to see what would happen. You wanted to disrupt the delicate balance of the house and festivities and do something wicked.Â
An idea immediately came to mind and you didnât think twice about it. You said goodbye to your cousins, stepping back into the house to check on your dad. Lately, he had been feeling more winded than usual. More tired. You urged him to go to the doctor, but the relationship between men and hospitals needed to be studied. He avoided it like it was a nail in a coffin.Â
Terry sat next to your dad, yelling at the TV with him. He brought his beer to his lush lips and took a deep pull. Your core instantly heated looking at your man. There was precious little he did that didnât absolutely turn you on.Â
He caught you staring and winked at you. You grinned and took out your phone, snapping a quick picture of him. He tilted his head, giving you a look. You stuck your tongue out at him and then checked the score. You found a free recliner opposite your dad and sat down, finally taking the load off.
While everyone was distracted, you quickly sent Terry a text. He checked his smart watch and then glanced at you, furrowing his eyebrows in an unspoken question. You smiled sweetly at him while he dug out his phone and checked your message.
đŹ You sent a photo.
âCan Big Daddy come play?â
Terry immediately placed his phone down on his thigh, turning wide eyes towards you. You rocked in the recliner, grinning at him. You had sent a thirst trap to him, one you snapped in the bathroom earlier in the day. You had meant to show him at a later time, maybe while he was at work and needed a pick me up.Â
He scooted forward on the couch, leaning his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his beard and tried to suppress a grin, subtly shaking his head at you.Â
You continued to rock, feeling pleased as punch. You tried to see if he was getting hard but he was bent too much forward. The men groaned at the latest refâs call and you turned to the TV to see the teams setting up for another play.Â
You glanced back at Terry who kept his eyes trained on you. When you caught his eye, he narrowed them slightly and then jerked his head towards the stairs. You grinned and got up first, heading up to the second floor that remained off limits to everybody. Less rooms to clean up afterwards.Â
The great thing about having a big family was that it was easy to disappear with no one the wiser. You headed upstairs to your childhood bedroom, closing the door behind you. The room was just as you left it in your early twenties when you finally moved out. There was still stuffed animals and an overflowing bookshelf in the corner, a wide dresser stretched underneath your TV, and âgrown-upâ art on the walls. You sometimes missed the B2K and B5 posters had tacked to your wall for years.Â
Anticipation churned in your stomach as you waited for Terryâs quiet footfalls to follow behind you on the shaggy, brown carpet. A moment later, there was a soft knock and then Terry entered, looking behind the door for you. You ushered him in and then closed and locked the door, wrapping your hands around his neck.
He had to bend down slightly so that it wasnât incredibly awkward for you and he groaned. âYou trynna get me killed?â He demanded, stepping back to look you in the face.
You giggled and clasped your hands behind your back. âWhatever do you mean?â You asked.Â
Terry smirked and advanced on you, causing you to bite your lip and retreat. He crossed the distance in one second, his long legs carrying him forward. He cupped your neck in both of his warm, strong hands and you moaned, eyes sinking lower now that you were back in his capable hands.Â
âYou think you slick sendinâ that picture while I was right next to your dad?â He asked.
You giggled again. Ugh, you couldnât help it. He made you feel so feminine and girly whenever he went all big and strong on you. You were working on being more bold, opening your mouth and asking for what you wanted. But sometimes, you got so twisted up with nerves your mouth didnât work.Â
âDid you like it?â You asked.Â
Terry squeezed your neck and you sighed at the pressure. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. âYou know I liked it,â he said, glancing down at the front of his pants. You followed his gaze and noticed his dick pressed against the fabric of his jeans. You reached out to rub his bulge.Â
He lifted an eyebrow at you. âWhatâs gotten into you?â He asked.
âI canât just want my man?â You asked. You continued to rub him, watching as his own eyes drooped. His naturally dark eyelashes nearly fanned his high cheekbones.Â
âYou know, there is one fantasy I always wanted to act out,â you said, forcing yourself to say the words. Even after years of marriage, Terry made you feel like a school girl with a crush. Guess you could never really shake that bit of shyness from growing up in a loud household and seeking only peace.Â
âIs that right,â he murmured.Â
âMhmm. I never really got to have boys in my room growing up,â you said. You blinked up at him with a smile hovering over your lips. Terry lightly squeezed your neck, stepping closer, as you continued to rub him through his jeans. His breathing increased, soft pitfalls loud in your ear because he was so close to you.Â
âAm I the first boy in your room?â He asked.Â
âMaybe. But donât get a big head about it,â you said.Â
âWouldnât dream of it,â he said. His thumbs rubbed across your pulse points on both sides of your neck, turning you stupid in less than a second. You lost your train of thought as the rough slide of his fingers sent electric zings down to the tips of your toes. Your panties grew damp as you sighed.Â
You kept waiting for the honeymoon phase to be over, but after a while, you just accepted that you two were just that intense for each other. Growing up, you saw your grandparents, parents, and extended family all find the love of their lives, each carving out a special relationship with their significant others.Â
But it was Auntie Aileenâs marriage that you admired. Sometimes she and her husband seemed to communicate with just a look. Like they were the only two people in the world and everything else was background noise. You wanted and craved that. And by some miracle, you found that with Mr. Terry Richmond.Â
âAnd, thereâs a few things that I always wanted to do with a boy in my room if I ever got the chance,â you said. Your hands slipped to his jeans, unbuttoning them and then sliding the zipper down.Â
âMm, I think I like where this is going. You know, I had a similar fantasy,â he said. He smirked as you lowered his jeans enough to get to his boxer briefs. His dick was hot to the touch through the fabric, balls heavy, and you slipped your hand beneath the waistband to get to your prize.Â
âIs that so?â You asked, palming his dick. He hissed and then released the sigh in a shudder. You grinned, feeling like the most powerful person ever. Just you gripping him caused a reaction. It was heady and intoxicating and you would never get sick of it.Â
âMhm. See, I always wanted to fuck my wife in her childhood home. Like it was a badge of honor or somethinâ,â he said, his voice getting deeper and rougher.Â
You shivered. Your panties were practically soaked now. Your pussy throbbed at the thought of you both having similar fantasies. You stepped back from his hands around your neck and then dropped down your knees.Â
Terryâs eyebrows lifted as you grinned at him. You pressed your nose into his crotch and nuzzled. Terry sighed, petting your head as you tugged his briefs down to expose the long, thick length of him.Â
The tip of his dick swelled, pre-cum already beading. You swiped your tongue out and licked it causing Terry to jerk his hips forward. âAs much as I love this, we better hurry before one of the Aunties come looking for you,â he said.
You pouted. He was right. A bunch of girls to choose from to handle anything around the house and somehow it always fell to you.Â
You sighed and kissed his dick, making it jump. âDonât worry, buddy, Iâll make it up to you later,â you said.
Terry laughed and pleasure zinged through you. You loved pleasing your man. Whether it was making him laugh, checking in on him, or pleasing him during sex, you loved it when you could just make him feel good.Â
Terry helped guide his dick into your mouth and you looked up at him while you worked in tandem. He pushed in and you sunk onto his dick, wrapping your lips around him. His hairs tickled your face but you kept your mind focused on making him cum as quickly as possible.Â
Little did he know, you were in a competition with yourself to make him bust faster and faster. Maybe it was simply the competitive spirit in you. But you swore youâve come from just a look from him. Turnabout was only fair play.Â
Light from your window illuminated Terry through the slats of the blinds. He tipped his head back, mouth falling open as you worked him over with your tongue and hands. You gripped his base, squeezing how he liked while you took the rest in your mouth.
âFuuck, this mouth of yours,â he moaned. Your pussy throbbed harder, growing wet from the sounds of his moans, the look of pleasure on his face. His eyes were closed, hands around the back of your head to push your mouth further down.Â
You took him in and bobbed your head, really getting into pleasing him. You shifted on your knees and squeezed his dick harder. You moaned around his length, getting lost in the feeling of him throbbing in your mouth. His dick poked your cheek and you teased the tip with your tongue.
âJust like that,â he coached so you did it again. You teased the tip while you sucked him off, loud gawking echoing in your ears.Â
Saliva slipped from your mouth and drooped down your chin, letting him slip easier in and out. You increased your ministrations, bobbing in a frenzy, watching for any signs of his discomfort.Â
You saw none of that. Instead, his face was twisted in a sexy mix of pleasure and pain. Soft moans escaped his mouth as you kept going, kept trying to take him deeper, kept trying to swallow him whole.Â
âFuckinâ perfect. So fuckinâ perfect with my dick in your mouth,â he cooed.Â
You moaned, growing unbearably wet at his words. Your jaw started to ache but you ignored it in favor of wanting to get him off. Wanting him to bust in your mouth. You widened your jaw and he sunk in a little deeper.
He groaned and looked down at you. âIâm finna bust,â he whispered.
You grinned around his dick and kept up what you were doing until he gripped your head and spilled down your throat. His moans were their own aphrodisiac, filling you with pride that you got your man off so quickly. You swallowed his cum, something you were still getting used to, and then continued to suck.Â
Terry huffed, hips jerking forward, as he couldnât decide between laughing and moaning. He had to gently push at your head to make you stop and he eased his dick out. âYou must think youâre cute,â he said.
You pinched your thumb and forefinger together. âA little,â you said.Â
Terry chuckled, grabbing your hands and helping you stand. He kissed you, gripping your face to his to make you stay. You sighed with a moan, wrapping your arms around him. You made out for a good, long while, soaking up each otherâs desperate kisses.Â
âMy turn,â he whispered against your lips.Â
You only had a brief moment to catch the devious, nearly evil look in his eye as he lifted your plain gray T-shirt over your head. He didnât take it off, instead he just wanted the collar over your head to expose your black, lacy bra.Â
He groaned, getting a live view of the sexy picture you sent him earlier. He thumbed your nipples through the bra, making them bead up. He backed you towards your closet door, then dropped his head to suck on your nipples around your bra.
You moaned, gripping the back of his neck. âOh fuck,â you moaned.
âShhh. We ainât trynna get caught âcause of your nasty ass,â he said.
âMy nasty ass?â You asked with a giggle.Â
âYour nasty, sexy, delicious ass, yes,â Terry said in between licking and kissing your titties. He used his index finger in between the cups to lower it, exposing your nipples to his gaze. He tucked the cups of your bra beneath your titties and went back to sucking on them.Â
Each suckle sent a wave of heat through your body and if you werenât careful, youâd turn into a raging inferno right there in your childhood bedroom. Your moans only increased, getting louder the more he worked that glorious, hot tongue on you.Â
You wished you had enough time to get your pussy licked on. But you were already pushing the envelope at the moment with so many people just downstairs. Risk of discovery only turned you on more, your pussy clenching around nothing.Â
Terry slipped his hand down your leggings and past your underwear, finding you soaked. He paused with your nipple in his mouth. âYou got this wet from sucking me off?â He asked with his mouth full.Â
You nodded. âSure did,â you said.
Terry closed his eyes briefly and sighed. âGood to know,â he murmured.Â
You didnât have time to ask him about that because he went back to sucking on your titties while he plunged two fingers into your pussy. You cried out, and he gave you a warning look, before working those long, thick fingers in and out of you.
âI-I didnât suck you off to get something back,â you whispered. As much as you would like to turn this into a full on session, you were also cognizant of the time. Surely, someone would come looking soon, right? You werenât exactly subtle heading upstairs.Â
âThink Iâma leave my favorite girl like this?â He asked. He emphasized his point by plunging his fingers faster, the squelching of your pussy smacked in the room.Â
âOh, baby. Oh, Terry, please, Iâm gonnaâŚunnf,â you moaned as quietly as you were able.Â
âThatâs okay, baby, you cum on these fingers. You cum all over this fingers fâme,â he murmured, still treating your titties like his favorite meal. He kissed, suckled, and nibbled until you turned into a puddle in his arms.
You were only held up by your hands around his neck and his arms around you. You shook violently, trapping his fingers between your thighs as you rode out your orgasm. Terry still managed to wiggle his fingers inside, rubbing against a sweet, sweet spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.Â
Your nails dug into his soft sweater and you shivered on your way down from it. Terry kissed and rubbed his beard against your nipples. Was the man trying to kill you?Â
He leaned back and smiled at you. âI love the look you give me after you cum,â he said.
You giggled. âWhat look is that, sir?â You asked.
âLike a well-satiated woman. Thatâs always my goal,â he said.
You smiled and tilted your hand. âYou better be careful talking to me like that. I might think you wanna marry me,â you said.
Terry chuckled. âOh, I wanna do more than marry you,â he said. He grinned and then gripped the waistband of your leggings and panties. He slid the pants down your legs, his hand traveling behind to rub against your thighs.Â
You stared at each other, smiles hovering on your faces, as he got them down to your calves. You stepped out of them and Terry wasted no time picking you up. You yelped as he spread you wide open, hooking your thighs around his waist.
Holding his hand under your ass, he used his other one to guide his dick into your slick heat. Your eyes widened at the glorious, burning stretch as you sank down onto him. Your toes curled as he sank in deeper and deeper, your essence making the trip easy.Â
Terry maneuvered his arms under your knees, so that he could easily lift you up and down on his dick. You gripped onto him for dear life, turning wide, panicked eyes to him. You didnât think heâd drop you, no, your husband was too strong and capable for that. You just felt like you were about to rip apart at the seams and he was the only thing keeping you together.Â
âYou did say you wanted Big Daddy to come and play, right?â He whispered, pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was slow, smooth, and so damn hot you clenched around his dick. He groaned and lifted you off his dick just to sink back in.Â
âDonât be using my words against me,â you said.
âOh word?â He asked with a grin. All the niceties flew out of the window. He started slamming you up and down on his dick, that stretching burn making your eyes roll to the back of your head.Â
âOh, fuck,â you moaned, bringing your face closer to his. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck and held on while he fucked you, stuffed you, and filled you so completely you felt him all over. He was in your heart, your mind, and your soul, writing his name in the threads of your being.Â
âThereâs my good girl. Iâm so fuckinâ proud of you,â he said.
You whined against his face, peppering him with sloppy kisses. âI love you,â you said.
âI love you, too. I like when you get bold. Let me know you want this dick,â he said. He rubbed his beard against your cheek and you moaned.
âI want it. Please, I want it,â you whispered.Â
Knocking drew your attention to your door. You turned wide eyes to Terry who stopped moving. He glanced towards the door.Â
âBaby, you in there?â Your mom called out. Your heart beat in double time, fear turning your insides icy.
âWhat should I do?â You whispered. Okay, you lied, getting caught would suck ass right now. There was no way to explain this to your mom. You just didnât talk about these things with her. As far as she was concerned, you were married but still a virgin.
âIf you donât answer, she gonna send a search party,â he whispered back.
âYeah, mom?â You called out.Â
âWhat are you doing in there? Foodâs getting ready to be done so I need your help organizing the line,â she said.
âYes, mommy, I-I wasnât feeling well so I came to lay down,â you called out.Â
âDo you need some medicine? You want me to grab Terry?â She asked.Â
Terry grinned and started moving you up and down on his dick again. Your jaw dropped, tummy fluctuating between arousal and fear. The normal butterflies in your stomach were having a field day.Â
You slapped at his shoulder to get him to stop. Or quit fucking around. He couldnât think this was a great idea, making you take his dick like this while talking to your mom. He grinned innocently, moving his lips down back to your nipples to suck.
You closed your eyes, not knowing where to focus your attention. âUh-no! Iâm okay! Iâll be out soon, promise!â Oh, fuck, he hit a good spot inside you and you clutched him to you.
âAlright, better come on. Your Uncle Remy âbout to work my damn nerves,â your mother sniffed as she presumably went on down the hallway.Â
You gasped and tapped Terryâs shoulder again. Terry answered you with a chuckle and then ended on a moan.Â
âFuck, youâre so wet,â he moaned like it was a glorious revelation. His deep voice skated along your nerve endings, making your tummy flip with desire.Â
âTerry, please!â You moaned.
âBig Daddy ainât finished yet,â he said and nuzzled your neck. He placed kisses there while he pumped his arms, moving you up and down on his dick. Your toes curled once more, fast approaching that train to nirvana.Â
âOh, please, Big Daddy, I canât take it,â you cried.Â
âSure you can. Cum on this dick so I can fill you up. Let me feel it,â he said into your neck. His groans joined yours, hips jerking into you like he was close as well. âSoak this dick, baby.â
You dropped your head to his shoulder and let the orgasm roll over you like a subway train. You twitched and jerked on him, keening whines and cries filling your room as you lost sound in your right eye.Â
Or maybe this was that nirvana you were dreaming of. Maybe you slipped into another plane of existence where your souls danced and entwined for eternity. Either way, Terryâs groans brought you back to this side of existence while he stuffed you full of his cum.
The hot, thick spurts throbbed with his dick, sliding against your inner walls. You cried, feeling overwhelmed and thoroughly fucked out. You both panted and huffed as you came down, gathering your senses post-nut.Â
You smiled dopily at your man and he flashed you a beautiful, wide grin. âThereâs that look I love so much,â he said.
âYou are dangerous,â you said.
He chuckled. âSaying Iâm dangerous while your pussy feel this good squeezing my dick. Just say you donât wanna let go,â he said.
You squeezed his dick and he laughed, lowering you carefully to the floor. Once he slipped out, his cum came rushing out of you and you closed your eyes to enjoy the sensation. Terry suddenly pushed his cum right back in.
âTerry!â You screamed.Â
He chuckled. âI canât help it. I like watching my cum slide out of you,â he said. He planted a kiss on your forehead and you smiled at him while you crossed the room to your dresser. Sometimes, you came to spend the night with your parents to help keep an eye on your dad while your mom got a break.
You grabbed an extra pair of panties and a towel from off of your bed. You cleaned yourself up as best as you were able and then slipped your leggings back on. Thank goodness that a bathroom was directly across from your room. You wouldnât have to trek far to get fully cleaned up.Â
Terry stuffed that dangerous monster back into his jeans. You stood, transfixed, watching him slide the denim over his dick and zip up his pants with a little hop.Â
âHappy Thanksgiving, Big Daddy,â you said, admiring your man.
âHappy Thanksgiving, baby,â he said, pulling you into a hug and one final kiss before leaving your room in a cloud of marital bliss.
The end.
I love you all and I'm so thankful for you. The Secret Terry Richmond Files
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Nicky's mom has got it going on (Part 4)
Word count: 3700
Warnings: pool sex, fingering, vibrating underwear, almost getting caught, think that's it
A/N: guys i finally wrote it omg the day has arrived
Itâs been a week since the Halloween party, a week since your best friendâs mom fucked your brains out.Â
You wish you could say that you regretted it, but that would be a lie.Â
Yet every time you hang out with Nicky, you feel your heart squeeze. It would kill him if he found out, and you knew that you would never be able to tell him.Â
But your thoughts still found their way back to the older woman, the way her fingers felt curling inside you, the way she tasted when she was riding your face.Â
You werenât sure when the next time you were going to see her was. School is picking up as you were going into Thanksgiving break soon, and you know Nicky is feeling the stress too.Â
But the next Saturday, the weather is lovely and Nicky invites you over for a pool day at his house. Itâs the first time the New Jersey winter has climbed into the 70s, and youâre both determined to make the most of it.Â
And youâll get to see Agatha again.Â
The thought makes your stomach twist and turn, both with nerves and excitement.Â
She had dragged you back upstairs after you made that quip about your lover being just âalrightâ to Nicky and she had put you in your place.Â
Three orgasms later, she had finally let you leave the room to go back downstairs to the party, but after all the guests left and her son had gone to bed, she came into the guest room so you could return the favor.Â
The next morning, she was gone from the bed by the time youâd woken up and you couldnât help but feel disappointed, even though you obviously knew she couldnât stay. It was risky regardless, having sex with your best friendâs mom with him right down the hall, so there was no need to push it.Â
And when you had gone downstairs, Nicky was already there, laughing at your disheveled state. Agatha had given you a heated glance, but that had been it.Â
That was the last time youâd spoken to her.Â
And now youâre going swimming at their house, where Agatha may or may not be there.Â
You hope she will, but you do know that she might be working.Â
Just in case, you put on one of your most flattering bikinis, a purple number that leaves little to the imagination.Â
Itâs a dangerous game to play, especially since Nicky will be there, but you miss the older woman. And you donât really know where things stand with her, so you figure this will be a great way to find out.Â
You throw a towel into a bag with some sunscreen and drive over to their house, your heart rate picking up as you get closer.Â
Nicky opens the door.Â
âHey!â He exclaims. âReady for the first pool day since summer?âÂ
You step into the house, eyes peeled for his mom. âYou know it. Itâs been too long. Iâve missed the sun.â
No sign of her. You try your best not to feel too down; you knew her working would be a possibility. But the fresh warm air on their back patio makes you temporarily forget about the older woman and you take a deep breath.Â
Nicky disturbs your moment of peace by cannonballing into the pool, splashing you with water. You glare at him, pretending to be mad, before quickly stripping off your clothes and jumping in as well.Â
The two of you play around for what seems like forever, and youâve missed having this much fun with your best friend. With school and work, it seems like the two of you havenât just hung out in a while, and this was a desperately needed break from all that stress.Â
âFinally warm enough for a swim, hm?â You hear a voice ring out from the deck. You whirl around to see Agatha Harkness standing there, regal as ever. She makes your mouth run dry when her eyes shift to you, a brow raising ever slightly at the sight of you in the swim suit.Â
âWanna join?â Nicky asks and playfully flicks water at his mom. She gasps with mock outrage and then laughs.Â
âGive me a second to go put on my suit. As long as y/n doesnât mind if I hop in?â She turns her full attention to you, expectantly waiting for an answer, but your brain has short-circuited at the thought of her in a swimsuit.Â
âOh, yeah, no, that would be fine,â you stammer out and she smirks knowingly. When she goes back inside, Nicky douses your face with water.Â
âDude, what is going on between you and my mom?â He asks, and you choke, spiraling into a coughing fit.Â
Youâre still struggling to breathe, but you force out: âWhat do you mean?â Panic grips your heart and youâre so afraid of what heâs going to say next.Â
âLike, you know, youâre always turning red around her and stuff. Oh my god, do you think sheâs hot?â He whispers, eyes widening.Â
âWhat?â You snap, protests locked and loaded on your tongue, but he just laughs.Â
âYouâre not the first person to think sheâs a MILF. I donât think sheâs into girls though,â he says, fake sadness in his voice, and you almost choke again.
If only he knew.Â
She sure seemed into girls when her fingers and tongue were buried in your cunt a week ago.Â
âYeah, youâre probably right,â you say hastily and duck underwater to hide your burning cheeks.Â
When you resurface for air, Agatha is standing there on the deck wearing a one-piece black suit with a low cut revealing quite an eyeful of her magnificent cleavage. You have to clench your teeth together tightly when she gives you a wink before walking down the steps into the water. She lets out an exaggerated moan, surely just to mess with you, at the feel and you have to bite back a whimper at the sound.Â
She gets all the way to the ground before she pauses. âShoot, I was going to bring out some lemonade for everyone. Nicky, would you be a dear and go get it? Maybe some snacks too?âÂ
Nicky, ever the mamaâs boy, obeys without hesitation. He jumps out of the pool, grabs his towel, and hurries into the house.Â
Agatha immediately paces on you and you back up until your back hits the wall facing the door, feeling a spark in your stomach at the glint in her eye.Â
âHey,â she whispers when sheâs a hair away from you and you canât stop from looking down at her lips.Â
Her hands come to grasp onto your bare waist and you gasp. âHi,â you croak, your body already leaning into her touch that youâve sorely missed this week. She pulls you by your hips into a kiss that you quickly pull away from (after giving in for a second or two, of course). âNicky could come back at any minute,â you hiss and she just chuckles.Â
âYou didnât seem too concerned with my son catching us the other night with how loud you were moaning my name,â she teases, dropping her head down to press her lips against the chlorinated skin on your neck. You shudder at the feeling and your head drops back slightly.Â
The feeling in your belly stirs when she fits a thigh between your legs. âAgatha,â you whimper and slowly roll your hips against the firm muscle. Your hands come up to trace her biceps and she smirks. She presses harder and your lips part, but then she steps back and removes her leg.Â
âNicky could come back at any minute,â she throws your words back in your face and you groan.Â
You chew on your lip and think about it. Pouring lemonade and getting snacks wonât take very long, so it would be better to be careful.Â
But like she said, that hasnât stopped either of you before. So you seductively turn around, rest your arms on the deck, and tilt your head over your shoulder while you sway your ass back and forth.Â
She chuckles darkly and in an instant, her front is against your back and her hand dips down around your body to play with the edge of your bottoms.Â
âAre you sure you want to play this game, sweetheart?â She asks, voice low in your ear, and you nod eagerly. Her fingers crawl inside your suit and she finds your clit immediately, rubbing small circles around it.Â
Your head falls back against hers as you let out a small noise. Youâve missed her hands on you so much.Â
She continues her administrations, dipping a finger down every so often to collect wetness from your pussy. Even in the water, she can feel how turned on youâve become and her teeth graze your earlobe. She keeps drawing out small gasps from your mouth with her movements and she finally has enough of her teasing and slides her middle finger into you.Â
âGod, Agatha,â you groan, grinding your hips to get her deeper.Â
She tuts. âWhat was that?âÂ
The words come tumbling out of your mouth. âFuck, Mommy, please, I need more.â She gives a sound of approval and slides another finger in, curling them perfectly.Â
Sheâs panting open-mouthed against your neck, fucking her two fingers into you so well, when all of a sudden, the sliding glass door opens. Agatha and you both freeze, and your heart pounds.Â
âHey, mom,â Nicky calls, walking out while reading the label on a box of crackers. Agatha gives you a quick thrust with her fingers and you bite your lip before you give yourselves away. âDo you think these are okay? The expiration date wasââ He finally looks up to find his mom pressing his best friend against the pool wall. ââwhat are you guys doing?âÂ
You feel like youâre going to throw up.Â
âHer swimsuit top was getting loose so I was just helping her tie it tighter,â Agatha says behind you, stroking your clit with her thumb, and you tense. Youâre not sure youâve breathed since Nicky walked out. Thankfully, from the way youâre angled and with how far away Nicky is standing, he canât see Agathaâs hand down the front of your suit.Â
He seems to buy it though. âSo crackers or no crackers?âÂ
And youâre finally able to exhale. You can feel the tension literally seep out of your body.Â
But Agatha shifts forward so think about it, which forces her fingers in deeper, and you clamp your teeth down so hard on your tongue that you taste blood.Â
âYou know, Iâm getting hungrier, why donât we make somethingââ But she cuts off in a gasp, because in the middle of her sentence, you clench your walls around her as payback. âFor lunch?â She finishes weakly, but Nicky nods in agreement, none the wiser. âSo weâll get out and get dressed, yeah?â She asks you, and you catch her eye and give your hips a tiny roll. She gives you a warning look and the corners of your mouth tug into a smirk.Â
It feels good to gain a bit of leverage over her sometimes.
âOkay, sounds good, Iâll be inside whenever you weirdos decide to come in,â Nicky says, having had enough of whatever you and his mom are doing.Â
When the door finally closes, Agatha sinks her teeth into your shoulder and you moan loudly. âThatâs for teasing,â she says and pulls her hand out of your cunt. You whine at the emptiness and turn around to face her, aching for release.Â
âButââ you start and she splashes you gently to shut you up.Â
âMaybe later. But we need to go in now before Nicky actually gets suspicious.âÂ
You grumble, but you know she has a point, so you begrudgingly get out of the pool, Agatha behind you, and you grab your towel to dry off. As youâre looking through your tote bag that you brought, you realize something.Â
âFuck, I forgot underwear,â you curse, mostly to yourself, but the older woman happens to be right next to you and hears it.Â
You know sheâs smirking before you even look at her. âYou can borrow some of mine,â she says, all sickly sweet, and you just know sheâs up to something.Â
Once the two of you are sufficiently dry, you follow her back into the house and up the stairs to her bedroom. She had told Nicky that she was letting you borrow something and you figured it was going to just be a quick trip.Â
Which is unfortunate for you, because you are still dripping. You can feel the mess between your thighs with each step and itâs becoming uncomfortable.Â
But youâre good, and you just stand there awkwardly while Agatha roots around in her drawer, shoving aside a multitude of other pairs that youâre sure would work perfectly, until she pulls out a lacy black pair and holds them out to you.Â
âPut these on,â she says, grinning wolfishly, and you hesitantly reach out and take them. Just to tease, or at least maybe level the playing field for whatever she has planned, you keep eye contact while you reach behind you and untie your top.Â
Her jaw slackens when you finally peel the fabric from your breasts and you can see her hands twitch, like itâs painful for her to not just reach out and touch you.Â
And then her lips part when you start to slide your bottoms down and you can feel her eyes burning into you. When theyâre around your feet, you kick them at her and she catches them in one hand, staring at them like her brain just shut off.Â
âMom!â Nickyâs voice rings through the heated silence in the room and Agatha shakes out of her daze.Â
She fluffs her hair with her hand and throws your suit back to you. âGet dressed and come back downstairs quickly,â she orders, stripping naked and throwing on a crewneck and sweatpants, slipping something you canât discern from the underwear drawer quickly into her pocket, before you even have a chance to ogle.Â
Agatha runs out of the room and you hear her footsteps on the stairs and you turn back to the underwear she gave you. Itâs thick and you can tell it is some special pair, but you have no idea what it is.Â
So you put on your jean shorts and your t-shirt, comb through your wet hair, and go back downstairs.Â
Agatha is helping Nicky make grilled cheeses but they both turn around when they hear you enter the kitchen.Â
âThere you are,â Nicky comments, while his mom gives you a wink.Â
You walk over to them and rest your hands on the counter, observing what theyâre doing. âWhat can I do to help?âÂ
And thatâs when you feel it: vibrations against your clit that have you gasping and doubling over in shock and at the intensity.Â
Nicky rushes to your side and cries your name out, but when the rumbling suddenly stops and youâre able to lift your head, you see Agatha wearing a wicked smirk.
The underwear.Â
Thatâs why she wanted you to put them on, so she could tease you right in front of her son without actually risking being caught touching you. The thing she put in h
Fuck.Â
âAre you okay?â Nicky asks again, shaking your shoulders. You stand up, instinctively bracing yourself against the countertop just in case she tries to do it again.Â
You shoot Agatha a look before answering. âYeah, sorry, just cramps,â you lie. To his credit, he doesnât seem to be grossed out, he just helps you over to sit down on the couch.Â
âWhy donât you just rest then and let us take care of the food?â He offers sweetly and you give him a smile.Â
If only his mother was as nice as him.Â
The second Nicky walks away, the vibrations start again and you have to bite down on your finger to keep from moaning. You can feel Agathaâs eyes on you as you start to sweat from how good it feels and your face is burning.Â
In typical Agatha fashion, she teases you while she and Nicky finish making lunch by turning it up and then down or making it pulse against your clit. You can feel just how absolutely soaked you are and you squirm back and forth on the couch, silently begging for more.Â
âDo you want anything besides the sandwich?â Nicky asks you and you open your mouth to respond but have to instantly snap it shut when Agatha turns it up even more.Â
You take a deep breath and try to ignore the buzzing against the most sensitive part of your body. âIâm okay, thanks.â Your voice trembles from the effort of staying composed and you can see Agathaâs shoulders shaking with contained laughter.Â
Nicky brings over two plates and sets one down in front of you. He sits in the chair adjacent to the couch while Agatha plops down next to you.Â
âYou doing okay, hon?â She asks, reaching over to pat your leg and her touch makes you clench around nothing. You dig your fingernails into your palms to stop yourself from grabbing her hand and shoving it down your shorts.Â
The teasing is maddening.Â
âYeah, good,â you rasp, glaring at her while simultaneously pleading with your eyes to be let out of your misery.Â
Itâs like she knows exactly when youâre about to cum because she either stops the vibrations entirely or slows them down to where you can barely feel anything at all.Â
You try to focus on eating the grilled cheese, but you canât stop your hips from undulating, no matter how hard you try. It gets so bad that Agatha throws a blanket over you, muttering something about how cold you look so Nicky doesnât question it.Â
With the extra privacy, youâre free to shift your weight more to angle the vibrations better against your clit. You can feel the rumbles throughout your entire pussy and you can feel your mind slowly losing the ability to think.Â
You set down your plate, maybe three bites taken out of the food, and toss the other half of the blanket over Agathaâs legs. Thankfully, Nicky is flipping through the TV channels so he doesnât notice.Â
Agatha watches your face carefully when your hand digs into her thigh through her pants as she turns up the intensity, watching every little twitch of your eyebrows as you try to keep it together.Â
And then, she suddenly reaches over under the blanket to cup your pussy and press the crotch of the panties against you hard, and a moan tears its way out of your throat. You have to fake a cough to cover it up, but luckily Nicky doesnât look over.Â
Her hand is gone as soon as it appeared and youâre left rhythmlessly stuttering your hips, frantically chasing the high you so desperately need.Â
But it doesnât come.Â
Agatha keeps you on edge for almost twenty minutes, turning it up and down and off completely and then back on, and youâre practically panting into the blanket because you canât breathe too loudly.Â
Itâs the sweetest torture one could bear.Â
And then finally, finally, Nicky stands up and announces that he has to go to the bathroom.Â
The moment he leaves the room, you literally throw yourself into Agathaâs lap, straddling her waist and grinding against her, each movement against her stomach pressing the toy in the underwear harder to your clit.Â
âAgatha, Mommy, please,â you gasp against her lips and her fingers make their way down into your shorts. Instead of dipping into the underwear though, they go in-between them and your jeans so she can directly position the piece right where she wants it.
Her other finger fumbles with something in her pocket, the remote, youâre guessing, and you sink your teeth into her neck before the high-pitched whine can escape at the heightened intensity.Â
âBetter hurry up,â she taunts and you buck your hips at her tone. âYou donât want my son coming back in to find you cumming all over his mommy, do you?âÂ
You shake your head at the rhetorical question and focus on how the vibrations feel against you. You can feel them throughout your whole body and youâre getting so close.Â
âPlease, please, I need more,â you beg, having been kept on the edge for so long that you donât think you can cum from just this.Â
But Agatha always knows what you need, even after only spending one night with you.Â
She pushes the underwear to the side to slide three fingers into you easily, curves them just right, and that coupled with the vibration still against your clit makes you explode.Â
You bite her again to muffle your cries while you grind, dragging your orgasm out as much as you can.Â
And then the toilet flushes and you hear the sink running. By the time it turns off, youâve wiped your sweaty forehead and are sitting back in your normal spot, readjusting the blanket.Â
Nicky walks back in just as Agatha pops her fingers into her mouth, sucking the taste of you off. Your body clenches weakly at the sight of that and of course she sees it and smirks.Â
âEverything okay in here? Thought I heard something,â Nicky asks. You keep your eyes peeled on the TV even though you can see Agathaâs smile out of the corner of your eye.Â
âJust the show,â she says casually and Nicky accepts it, settling back down in the chair.Â
Agatha leans closer and chuckles quietly into your ear. âNext time, you need to make less noise.âÂ
And itâs impossible to miss the way your body shivers at the promise of a next time.Â
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#agatha all along
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Gobble Gobble
Oscar Piastri x American Fem!Reader
*ŕŠâŠâ§âËwarnings: minimal swearing, mentions of alcohol no use of y/n, pretend this makes sense
*ŕŠâŠâ§âËword count: 1.7k
*ŕŠâŠâ§âËsummary: Oscar experiences that absolute shit show that can be Thanksgiving or Oscar's first Thanksgiving with your family
︾ ⚠︾â︾ ⚠︾ŕ¨ŕ§ď¸ľ ⚠︾â︾ ⚠︾︾ ⚠︾â︾ ⚠︾ŕ¨ŕ§ď¸ľ
Your family had begged you to invite Oscar to the annual Thanksgiving dinner and, with hesitance, you did. It wasnât that you didnât want him to join in the celebration, rather you knew that your family could be much, especially during the holidays. But wasnât that the case for every family? It was like the holiday season brought a weird tension.Â
Oscar looked at the front of the home you had grown up in, letting out a nervous breath as you reached to open the small gate that separated you from the yard. âAre you ready?â
He gave you a nervous laugh, âAs ready as I can be.â You had warned him, multiple times, about your family's antics. From the nosy aunts, who would undoubtedly interrogate him all night, to the loose-lipped brother. He wasnât sure if they like him or even tolerate him, but he knew what to expectâ or at least he thought so.Â
âTheyâll love you, trust meâ you said, opening the gate and taking a small step into the front yard. Oscar smiled at you, liking the confidence you had in his ability to make a good first impression.Â
âI trust you,â he gave you a small nod, his eyes flickering down to your lips, moving to stand closer to you.Â
The moment was interrupted by the noise of the front door being swung open, your mom standing below it with a wide smile. She called out to you, walking down the steps of the porch to envelope you in a tight hug. Your mom held you for a moment before turning her attention to Oscar, smiling at him and giving him an equally tight hug. âYou must be Oscar, it's so good to finally meet you,â she said, pulling away from him, âWeâre still cooking up a storm, so Iâd recommend staying out of the kitchen, but make yourself at homeâ because, well, you are home,â she said, urging you inside before retreating into the kitchen to resume cooking.Â
You led Oscar into the house, taking off your coats and placing them on the coat rack. The house smelled like all sorts of food and baked goods, it was evident that you all would be eating a great deal. He stopped at the hallway, his eyes scanning the walls and the pictures that decorated them. âShe likes you,â you told him, taking a hold of his hand.Â
 Oscar took in every family photo, smiling, his gaze lingering at the ones from your childhood, âyou think so?â he asked, turning to face you, his hand squeezing your own.Â
âMmhm, absolutely.â
He smiled at you, taking a step closer, his eyes flickering down to your lips. Oscar glanced around, as if he were a child about to steal a cookie from a cookie jar, deciding the coast was clear he wrapped his hands around your hips. His lips found yours, his hands slipping under your sweater and gently squeezing at your skin. Your lips tasted like the lipgloss you had applied earlier, a taste that Oscar had grown to love in the months you had been dating. He deepened the kiss, a hand coming up to tangle in your hair.Â
âI am definitely going to gouge my eyes out,â said a voice you found all too familiar, causing you to jump away from Oscar.
Oscar turned to look at the direction in which the voice came, noticing a man leaning against the doorframe that led to the living room. Your brother stood there, a smirk on his face, he looked similar to you besides a few small differences in features. âWhat the hell is your problem?â you whispered harshly, glaring at your brother as you straightened yourself up.Â
Your brother smiled at Oscar, extending his hand out as a greeting, âYou two need to be aware of your surroundingsâ he said as Oscar shook his hand.Â
âYou need to stop being such a creep,â you quipped.Â
âA creep, me?â your brother asked, holding back a smile, âsays the girl who just a second ago had her boyfriends tongue shoved down her throat like a fucking vacuum.â
Oscar bit back a laugh, clearly amused by the situation, almost enjoying the way in which your face filled with embarrassment. You hadnât lied when you said your brother said anything and everything that came to his mind. âHow much is she paying you?â your brother asked Oscar, continuing to tease you.Â
He turned to look at you, expecting you to lash out at your brother but found you only shaking your head at him. âNo payment,â Oscar said, âIt's all voluntary.â
isâOh just piss off,â you said, playfully shoving your brother aside. He smiled at that, finding it amusing that you were more vocal against him while Oscar was around. Your brother prepared himself to speak again before being cut off, âMooom! Heâs bothering us!â you called for your mom, who yelled at your brother from the kitchen.Â
He glared at you, flicking you off, âYouâre such a baby, canât handle shit,â he grumbled, leaving you and Oscar alone again.
âHe's so annoying.â
Oscar smiled at you as you returned to his side, clearly still annoyed by your brother's behaviour, âHe loves you, that's why he annoys you so much. It's a brother thing.â His eyes lingered on your lips, clearly wanting to continue your earlier actions but scared that another family member would magically materialize.Â
âSure he does, come on, I want you to meet my dad,â you said, reaching for Oscar's hand again, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance.Â
âLead the way.â
You led him down the hall to the living room, where your father would undoubtedly be watching a game of football. As you approached, your father glanced over his shoulder from the couch to get a look at you, noticing your intertwined hands.Â
âHey,â you greeted, pulling Oscar along to sit on the couch opposite of your dad, who greeted you with a soft âHeyâ and nod before turning his attention back to the game. âWho's winning?â you asked. Your dad grumbled, it was obvious that the team your family rooted for was losing, although your dad held out the hope that theyâd make a comeback. He looked at Oscar for some time, trying to make an opinion of him. âThis is Oscar,â you said, introducing him to your dad.Â
He smiled at Oscar, extending his hand out for him to shake, âYeah, I know who he is,â he says, his eyes returning to intently watch the television, âyou always look like youâre desperately trying to cover up your stressed attitude on the TV.â
You let out a small laugh at that, causing Oscar to smile, âI suppose I do look rather tense from time to time,â he responded.Â
Your dad takes another look at Oscar, âMake her cry and Iâll break your kneecaps,â he says with a smile, making it obvious that his threat was empty. Oscar let out a laugh, nodding at your dads words. It was clear that Oscar wasnât the first to be given such warnings.Â
âHe's just messing with youâ he wouldn't hurt a fly,â you assure Oscar, playfully glaring at your dad, a smile painting itself on your own face. Your dad chuckled, it was obvious that your dad was only joking around with him.Â
âHe likes you,â I whisper to Oscar.
You sit with your dad for a while, only half paying attention to the game before the doorbell rang. The sound of new voices filling the house as your relatives arrived for dinner. Your dad shook his head, letting out a sigh, âLet the chaos begin.â
â Ë・âŕ¨ŕ§ËËŕ¨ŕ§âď˝ĄË â
You sat at a long table filled to the brim with different Thanksgiving foods. A turkey sat in the middle, surrounded by the usual sides like mac and cheese, mashed potatoes, and stuffing. It was like those stereotypical Thanksgiving dinners you see in movies. Oscar was starting to feel overwhelmed by all the simultaneous talking and smells.Â
âSo, when's the wedding?â one of your aunts, Victoria was her nameâ she was the most nosy of them, asked expectantly.Â
Poor Oscar nearly choked on the mouthful of turkey he had been eating, the sudden question taking him by complete surprise. He looked down at you with wide eyes, pleading you to answer before he said the wrong thing.Â
âWe havenât really discussed thatâ I mean, weâve only been dating for so long,â you responded. She raised an eyebrow at you and Oscar, amused by the way in which you had avoided truthfully answering her question. It was almost as if she wasnât too convinced by your answer.Â
âLeave them alone,â your mom said, attempting to jump to your defense.Â
âPlease,â you whispered, eyes glued to your plate as you moved the contents around with your fork, your hunger seeming to have abandoned you as the questioning began.
âIâm only teasing,â your aunt gave a small wave, clearly unphased by your moms words, âDo you want children?â
Oscar took a sip of his wine, attempting to keep cool after that very personal question. He could feel your eyes on him, and he reached down to hold onto your hand. âChildren?â he said with a nervous laugh, âWe havenât really talked about that either,â he said, looking down at his plate to avoid eye contact.Â
âBut surely you must have an opinion of your own,â your aunt added.Â
He took another sip of his wine, silently hoping theyâd find someone else to interrogate, âI mean, yeah,â he started, playing with your fingers as if to distract himself, âYes, Iâd want kids⌠just not anytime soonâ weâre still so young,â he looked at you warmly, a small smile appearing on his lips as he answered.Â
âOh he's perfect,â your grandma said from beside your mom, smiling widely at Oscar. Her comment made both of your parents smile, seemingly agreeing with what she had said, it was clear that Oscar had made a good first impression. He smiled at you, his smile growing as you kissed his cheek as your family finally moved on to their next victim.Â
Dinner continued with more questioning, your family left you and Oscar alone for the most part, and more eating. Afterwards you all gathered in the living room to watch whatever Christmas movie had been picked that year. And as you rested your head on Oscar's shoulder, he felt as if he could get used to Thanksgiving with your familyâ no matter how intrusive their questions may be.
︾ ⚠︾â︾ ⚠︾ŕ¨ŕ§ď¸ľ ⚠︾â︾ ⚠︾︾ ⚠︾â︾ ⚠︾ŕ¨ŕ§ď¸ľ
*ŕŠâŠâ§âËNote: This is in no way me condoning the myth of the first thanksgiving. And it is important to acknowledge the atrocities committed against the indigenous people since the arrival of the English. please ignore the spelling or grammar mistakes, I've got to go make mac and cheeseâ peace out and happy turkey day to anyone who feasts on this day.
#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#formula one fanfiction#formula one fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#oscar piastri imagine#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 fluff#formula 1 fluff#formula one fluff#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri fic#oscar piastri x y/n#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x fem!reader#oscar piastri x american!reader#american!reader#oscar piastri fluff#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x y/n
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Sparks in Jersey - Luke Hughes
Summary: Luke finally has the chance to wow the girl of his dreams
content: angst, fluff, underage drinking, kissing, suggestive jokes
wc: 7.1k
notes: requested!!! enjoyyyy
"Jack, stop!" Blair whisper-yelled, trying to stifle her laughter as the two of them crouched behind the bushes. "If you get caught, your mom's gonna ground you, and then I'll be next."
"She won't catch us," Jack whispered back, his wide grin not matching his feigned seriousness. He held up the spray can like a prized trophy, its contents intended for the blank patch of wooden fence at the back of the yard. "This is art, Blair. ART."
Blair rolled her eyes, nudging him with her elbow. "You're a menace, Rowdy. If I get in trouble, I'm blaming you."
"Yeah, yeah," Jack said dismissively as he shook the can and began spraying a wobbly rendition of a hockey stick.
From the corner of her eye, Blair caught a small figure creeping through the grass toward them. Eight-year-old Luke wasn't great at sneaking--his floppy hair and oversized hand-me-down hoodie made him a blur of movement as he crouched and tripped his way to their hiding spot.
"Guys!" Luke whisper-shouted, clutching a flashlight in one hand. "Mom's looking for you. If she sees this, you're gonna get in so much trouble!"
Jack turned to shush his brother, but Blair intervened first, pressing a finger to her lips. "Luke," she said softly, leaning toward him. "We're almost done. Be our lookout, and we'll owe you one, okay?"
Luke froze, wide-eyed, as Blair's attention zeroed in on him. He nodded so quickly it almost looked painful. "Okay. But if you get caught, it wasn't my idea."
The grin Blair flashed him felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. Luke planted himself by the edge of the fence, clutching the flashlight like it was his badge of honour.
Luke knew one thing for certain: if it meant protecting Blair, he'd do it.
~~
Blair Adams had lost count of people who assumed she and Jack were siblings. From the time they started grade school together, their lives had intertwined like vines--endless hockey games, late-night study sessions, and whispered secrets that only best friends would understand.
By the time high school rolled around, they were practically inseperable. If one of them was missing school, then the other was guaranteed to be moping around the whole day. So when Jack got drafted to the Devils and she got into Princeton, it wasn't even a question that they'd live together.
Jack was her family in every way that mattered. But his brothers? That was a different story.
Luke, the youngest Hughes sibling, had always been sweet--quiet in a way that balanced Jack's constant energy. Blair remembered him as the little boy who followed them everywhere, starry-eyed and eager to impress.
And now he was moving into their apartment.
Blair set her coffee cup on the counter, glancing at the clock. Jack had texted her that morning, reminding her about Luke's arrival, and while she wasn't nervous, she did feel... curious. She hadn't seen Luke since a couple Christmases ago, and even then, their interactions had been brief.
"Probably still a beanpole," she muttered to herself. She couldn't picture him as anything but Jack's little brother.
Still, the thought lingered as she tidied the living room.
~~
Luke sat in the back of the Uber, his hands fidgeting in his lap as they wound through Newark's crowded streets. His suitcase bumped against his knee with every pothole, but he barely noticed.
He was finally here.
His older brothers had always been larger-than-life figures in his world. Quinn was the golden child--quiet, disciplined, and effortlessly skilled. Jack, on the other hand, was the whirlwind--his humour and energy lighting up every room he walked into.
But Blair? She was someone else entirely.
For as long as Luke could remember, Blair had been part of the family. She'd been at every birthday party, every Thanksgiving dinner, and every summer barbeque. And Luke had always adored her, even before he knew what the word crush meant.
Back then, he'd thought his feelings were something he'd grow out of, like his obsession with dinosaur pyjamas. But as he got older, those feelings only deepened.
Now, at 20, with two years of college hockey under his belt and an NHL debut on the horizon, Luke felt ready. Ready to prove that what he felt for Blair wasn't some childish infatuation.
He gripped the strap of his bag tighter. "Play it cool," he muttered to himself. "She probably still thinks you're a kid."
But what if she didn't?
When he walked into the apartment, Jack was already waiting, sprawled on the couch in sweatpants with his phone in hand.
"There he is," Jack said with a grin, standing to pull his brother into a quick hug. "Welcome to Casa Hughes-Adams."
Luke glanced around the space. It felt warm and lived-in, with mismatched throw pillows and the faint scent of cinnamon. It didn't escape his notice that Blair wasn't in sight.
"She's in the kitchen," Jack said, as if reading his thoughts.
"Who?" Luke asked, feigning indifference.
Jack smirked, leaning in. "Blair, dummy. And before you ask--yes, she's still single."
"Jack.." Luke warned.
"I'm just saying," he threw his hands up in mock innocence. "You two are gonna be living together. Might as well shoot your shot."
"Jack."
Jack grinned wider, clearly enjoying himself. "Relax, Lukey. I'm just here to help. Now, go say hi before she starts unpacking your bags for you."
As Luke moved toward the kitchen, his heart thudding, he caught the glint in Jack's eye. Whatever he was planning, it was bound to be trouble.
~~
Blair was standing by the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and a teasing smirk playing on her lips as Luke wrestled a suitcase. The duffle slung over his shoulder slipped down his arm, and he cursed softly under his breath, making her bite back a laugh.
"Need help there, big shot?"
Luke looked up, a sheepish grin breaking across his face. "Nah, I've got it. Totally under control."
Blair's teasing died in her throat. When did he get a jawline like that? she wondered, her gaze catching on the sharp angles of his face, the broad set of his shoulders, the way he carried himself--despite his current struggle with luggage.
She blinked, forcing herself to refocus. Relax. It's Luke. Jack's little brother.
Still, as he straightened and ran a hand through his hair, her stomach did a flip.
Luke caught her staring and raised an eyebrow. "Something on my face?"
"Nope," Blair said quickly, turning toward the living room and willing the heat in her cheeks to dissipate. "Let me show you where your room is before you destroy the place."
Luke followed her, taking in the apartment as he went. It felt surreal being there, sharing the space with Blair. The same Blair he used to follow around as a kid, who used to ruffle his hair and call him "Lukey." Now she was standing there, effortlessly beautiful, and he couldn't decide if the butterflies in his stomach were exhilerating or terrifying.
Once they'd unloaded his bags into the spare room, Blair escaped to the kitchen, grateful for the excuse to put some distance between them. She leaned against the counter, staring at the fridge as if it held the answers to life's most pressing questions.
Okay, so Luke's grown up. Big deal. He's an athlete; they all end up looking like Greek statues. She snorted at the thought and shook her head. Doesn't mean anything.
Still, the image of him smiling at her--his dimple making a rare appearance--lingered in her mind.
"Get a grip, B," she mumbled, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. "He's Jack's little brother. End of story."
But the flicker of doubt refused to fade.
~~
Later that evening, Jack stood in the doorway, pulling on his jacket.
"Wait, you're leaving?" Blair asked, arms of full of laundry she'd been folding on the couch.
"Yup," Jack said, popping the 'p.' "Dinner with some of the guys. You two have fun."
Blair frowned. "You didn't mention that earlier."
"Didn't I?" he replied innocently. "Must've slipped my mind."
Luke appeared from the hallway, his hair still damp from a post-flight shower. He glanced between the two of them, his expression cautious. "You're going out?"
Jack clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, but don't worry. Blair will take care of you." He shot Blair a pointed look before sauntering out the door, leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
Blair rolled her eyes, muttering, "Subtle as a brick, that one."
Luke cleared his throat. "So, uh, what's for dinner?"
They ended up in the kitchen, pulling ingredients from the fridge.
"How do you feel about spaghetti?" Blair asked, holding up a box of pasta.
"Sounds good."
They worked together in silence for a while, the only sounds the clinking of pots and the soft hum of the stove. But as the pasta boiled, Blair leaned back against the counter, studying Luke.
"So... how's it feel finally making the big move?"
Luke shrugged, stirring the sauce. "Good, I think. A little surreal, honestly. I mean, this is Jack's turf. I'm just trying not to screw it up."
Blair softened. "You'll be fine, Lukey. You're good at what you do. Plus, Jack thinks he's way cooler than he actually is."
Luke laughed, the sound warm and rich, and Blair felt her chest get tight.
As they sat down to eat, the conversation drifted to Jack--his quirks, his bad habits, and all the ridiculous things he and Blair did as kids.
"Remember that time he put hot sauce in my water bottle?" Blair asked, laughing.
"Oh, yeah. You chased him with a fucking hockey stick."
"I should've hit him with it," she shook her head.
Luke leaned forward, his gaze softer. "You were always good at keeping him in line."
Her laughter faltered under the weight of his words, their eyes meeting.
"Yeah, well," she said lightly. "Someone had to. Hell... I still do."
The rest of the evening passed smoothly, but as they cleaned up the kitchen together, Blair felt like something had shifted. Luke might not just be Jack's little brother.
And that scared her... a lot.
~~
Blair had always thought of herself as someone who adapted quickly, but living with Luke Hughes presented a unique challenge. Much different than living with Jack. He wasn't difficult, per se--in fact, he was the opposite. Too helpful. Too funny. And, if she was being honest, too damn distracting.
It was the little things that threw her off.
Like the way he always tidied up without being asked. She'd leave her coffee mug in the sink and come back to find it washed and drying on the rack. Or the way he'd linger in the kitchen, chatting about his day as she cooked, leaning casually against the counter with his stupidly charming, crooked grin.
And then there were his routines. Every morning, Luke came out of his room in sweats and t-shirt, his hair adorably mussed from sleep, to make a protein shake before his workout. The sight had become so familiar that it almost felt... domestic.
Get it together, she'd tell herself for the thousandth time as she passed him on her way to make her coffee. But as she caught the faint scent of his cologne mixed with his shampoo, she couldn't help the butterflies she felt.
Luke wasn't sure what he expected when he moved in, but things had been going better than he'd hoped. Sure, living with Blair was a constant exercise in restraint--her laugh, her quick wit, the way she'd hum under her breath when she thought no one was listening--it was enough to drive him insane.
But he'd made a plan.
Step one: Show her he wasn't a kid anymore.
It was in the small things. Like volunteering to carry the groceries or fixing the wobbly kitchen stool without anyone asking. He made sure to cook extras for her once in a while, too--nothing fancy, just enough to make her pause and say, "Wow, you've really got this adulting thing down."
Step two: Flirt... just a little
Luke wasn't reckless enough to come on strong, but he'd test the waters now and then--a playful nudge when they passed in the hallway, a comment about how her sweatpants made her look cozy. He lived for the moments when her cheeks turned pink, even if she brushed off his remarks with a roll of her eyes.
What he didn't expect, though, was how much just being around her would feel so... right.
~~
Blair was cozied up on the couch, her laptop balanced on her lap as she scrolled through pages of research for a project. Luke was on the other end of the couch, his long legs taking up more than his fair share of space as he half-watched a hockey game on the TV.
"Hey, where's Jack?" Blair asked, glancing at the time. It was past seven, and he hadn't returned from his workout.
Luke shrugged, not looking up from his phone. "He said he was meeting some guys for dinner. I don't know."
She frowned. "Didn't he do that yesterday?"
Luke smirked, finally looking at her. "Maybe he's just really into team bonding."
Blair narrowed her eyes. Something was definitely up. Over the past week, Jack had mysteriously disappeared more often that usual, leaving her and Luke to fend for themselves. It wasn't that she minded the company--Luke was easy to get along with--but the pattern was hard to ignore.
Later that night, as she was rinsing her coffee mug (the one Luke usually beat her to), her phone buzzed with a text from Jack.
Jack: How's it going? You two getting along?
Blair: fine. why?
Jack: No reason
Her gut was telling her he was up to something.
Meanwhile, Luke passed by, grabbing a glass of water and shooting her a quick smile. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," Blair said slowly, slipping her phone into her back pocket. But as Luke left, she couldn't shake the idea that her best friend was trying to play matchmaker.
~~
Jack was still out and the apartment was oddly quiet. Blair had given up on her work and was now scrolling through Netflix in search of something mindless.
"You watching something?" Luke asked as he emerged from his room, a hoodie thrown on over his sweats.
"Trying to," she replied, tossing the remote in his direction. "Your turn to pick. I'm too indecisive tonight."
Luke caught it easily and plopped down beside her, the cushion dipping under his weight. He scrolled for a minute before settling on a documentary about space exploration.
"Space?" Blair cocked an eyebrow.
"Come on, it's cool," Luke said, grinning. "Plus, you might learn something."
She rolled her eyes, but stayed put. As the documentary started, she found herself leaning into the couch, her shoulder brushing against Luke's. It wasn't much, just the barest contact, but it sent a spark through her.
At one point, Luke turned to make a comment about the astronauts, his voice low and close enough that she felt the warmth of it on her cheek. She glanced at him, and for a split second, the room seemed to hold its breath.
But then Luke pulled back, casually sipping his water as if nothing had happened.
Blair just exhaled, turning her attention back to the stipid documentary.
~~
The rain tapped against the windows of the apartment, the kind of soothing sound that made everything feel a bit more intimate. Blair was on the floor, sorting through all of her notebooks from every year of college. Luke was on the sofa, tossing a ball in the air absentmindedly.
"You sure you don't want me to just toss all this for you?" he teased, nodding at the stack of papers that threatened to topple.
Blair shot him a glare. "Do you want me to throw out all your hockey gear?"
"TouchĂŠ." He grinned. "But my gear gets me paid. Does this" --he picked up one of her notebooks, flipping through it--"get you paid?"
"Rude," she said, snatching it back, though she couldn't stop her smile.
Luke leaned back, stretching his legs out in front of him. The movement drew her attention, and for a moment, Blair found herself distracted by how easily he seemed to fit into every situation. He wasn't a little kid anymore, and she was starting to notice.
"Why do you keep all this, anyway?"
Blair shrugged, shutting another notebook and hugging it to her chest. "I don't know. I guess in case I ever need any of it. Or... it reminds me of where I started. It's easy to lose sight of that when you're trying to figure out where you're going."
Luke set the ball down, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "I get that," he said. "Sometimes I feel like... I don't know, like I'm chasing something. Trying to prove I belong. First at Michigan, now here."
"You? You're one of the Hughes brothers. People expect you to belong."
Luke laughed, but it was a quiet, self-deprecating sound. "That's the problem. Everyone expects me to be just like Jack or Quinn. And they're... amazing. Don't get me wrong. But sometimes it feels like I'm playing catch-up, you know?"
Blairâs chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice. She shifted onto the couch beside him, her knee brushing against his. âYouâre not Jack or Quinn,â she said softly. âYouâre Luke. And thatâs enough. Itâs more than enough.â
"Do you really think that?"
"I know it."
"What about you?" Luke asked. "You've got this whole life mapped out--Princeton, your career. Doesn't it ever feel... heavy?"
Blair hesitated, surprised by how much she wanted to answer honestly. âSometimes,â she admitted. âItâs like Iâve been so focused on what Iâm supposed to do--keeping up with school, supporting Jack, being the dependable one--that I forget to think about what I actually want.â
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The rain outside grew heavier, the rhythm filling any silence between them. Blair glanced at him, his profile softened by the dim glow of the lamp. She felt her pulse quicken, the air between them charged.
"You're not what I expected," she whispered.
"What?"
Blair hit her lip, searching for the best words. "When Jack said you were moving in, I thought it'd be... different. I don't know. But you're--"
"Not a kid anymore?" he finished for her, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips.
Blair's heart stuttered. "Yeah. Something like that."
The smile faded as their gazes locked. The teasing warmth in Luke's eyes gave way to something deeper, something that made Blair's breath catch.
He leaned in slightly--not enough to close the distance, but enough for her to notice. For her to feel the magnetic pull between them.
"Blair," he whispered.
Her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine, but reality crashed over her like a wave of cold water.
She pulled back abruptly, breaking the spell. "I should... I should finish sorting these," she said, gesturing to the forgotten notebooks. Her voice sounded unsteady, even to her own ears.
Luke blinked, leaning back as if to give her space. "Right. Of course."
He didn't push, but the disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable.
Blair sat in bed that night, staring at the ceiling as the scene replayed in her mind like a broken record. She could still feel his breath on her, the way he looked at her like nothing else mattered.
He's Jack's little brother, she reminded herself, gripping the blanket tightly. This can't happen.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shut her brain off and fall asleep.
In the room down the hall, Luke lay awake, staring at the ceiling in the same way: This can't just be a crush anymore.
~~
Jack was sitting on a stool, arms crossed, a devious grin spreading across his face as he watched Blair finish her coffee.
"So," he said casually, "I was thinking we should do a group night. You, me, Luke, maybe a couple teammates and their girlfriends. Drinks, a movie, the works. Sound good?"
"Group night? Since when do you plan movie nights?"
"Since I'm such a generous, thoughtful friend," Jack replied. "Come on, Blair. You've been working nonstop. You need to relax."
Blair glanced at Luke, who was silently buttering toast at the counter. "Sure. Why not? It could be fun."
"Great." Jack clapped his hands together. "I'll set it up."
Unbeknownst to her, Luke caught Jack's michievous glance over Blair's shoulder.
~~
Two nights later, Blair was setting out snacks as Luke flipped through all the different streaming services the three of them were subscribed to. The apartment was warm and cozy, the perfect atmosphere for a chill night with their friends.
"Where is everyone?" Blair asked, frowning as she checked her phone.
Luke smirked, already knowing the answer. "Check your messages."
Jack: Oops! Something came up. Can't make it tonight. Have fun without me!!
She groaned, running a hand over her face. "Unbelievable."
Luke laughed, plopping onto the couch. "Guess it's just us, then."
Blair hesitated, tempted to go curl up in her bed with a mug of hot chocolate and watch a cheesy rom-com on Netflix. But as she glanced at Luke, comfortably lounging on the sofa, his smile easy as ever, she decided against it.
"Fine," she said, grabbing two coolers from the fridge. "But you're not getting out of picking a movie."
Half an hour in, the movie played, but Blair was much more interested in Luke than the plot.
He was relaxed, his arm draped over the back of the couch--not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the warmth of his presence. Every so often, he'd glance her way to catch her reaction.
"This movie's fucking ridiculous," Luke said, shaking his head at the over-the-top action scene.
"I feel like that's the point," Blair replied, tossing a piece of popcorn at him.
Luke caught it, popping it into his mouth with a smug grin. "Impressive, right?"
"Maybe you're the ridiculous one."
"And yet, here you are, stuck watching this shit movie with me."
She turned to scowl at him, but it faltered as their eyes met. The room seemed to shrink, the movie getting quieter. Luke looked down to her lips, catching himself and looking back at her eyes.
She looked away quickly, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "We should... get back to the movie."
"R-right, the, uh, the movie."
As soon as the end credits rolled, Blair busied herself with cleaning up, grateful to have something to do. Anything.
She'd enjoyed their unexpected time alone more than she cared to admit. Luke always made her laugh, left her feeling... seen. It was new. Different.
Too different, she thought as she set the popcorn bowl in the sink.
The idea of crossing that line with Luke felt impossible. Jack was practically her brother, and Luke was his little brother. No matter how much he'd grown, or changed, it still felt... complicated.
Luke watched from the couch as she washed the dishes. Her hair was messy from where she'd ruffled it during the movie, and the way she smiled as she hummed to herself made his chest ache.
"Hey."
"Yeah?" she glanced over her shoulder.
"Thanks for hanging out tonight," he said, his tone genuine. "Even... if Jack bailed."
Blair turned to face him fully, drying her hands on a tea towel. "Yeah, well, you're not the worst company."
Luke smirked. "That's high praise coming from you."
"Don't let it get to your head."
"Too late," he chuckled, standing up to grab a drink, his shoulder brushing hers as he reached for a glass. The touch was subtle, almost nonexistant, but Blair felt like her skin was on fire.
Luke caught the way she stiffened, but instead of pulling back, he stayed close, voice lower. "You know, you don't have to keep pretending."
"Pretending what?"
"That you don't like being around me."
Her breath caught, her mind racing for a response, but he stepped back, giving her space.
"Goodnight, Blair," he teased, heading to his room.
She wasn't sure what she felt more: frustration at herself for the way her heart reacted to him... or the undeniable truth that Luke wasn't wrong.
~~
The post-game energy was infectious, the crowd buzzing as fans lingered in the arena, snapping selfies and chatting excitedly. Blair stood near the players' tunnel, sipping a beer and watching Luke from afar.
He was good at this, she realized. Not just the hockey part--though he'd had an impressive game tonight--but the whole... persona. The awkward Luke smiles, the attention he gave to fans, the way he handled it without the sass his brother did.
She wasn't the only one who noticed.
Blair stiffened as a blonde girl, maybe a year or two younger than her, leaned close to him. She was bold, confident in the way only someone used to getting attention could be.
Blair tried to brush off as she watched Luke smile politely, but then the girl handed him her phone. Luke hesitated for a moment before taking it, his expression unreadable.
Her stomach twisted. She didn't want to feel this way--this hot, irrational pang of jealousy that clenched her chest like a vice. But when the girl's face lit up, giddy with what was probably Luke's number, she had to look away.
It wasn't her place to care. She had no claim over Luke. He was free to flirt with whoever he wanted.
~~
Blair was laying in her bed, a half-empty glass of wine resting on her bedside table. The room was dark, her laptop playing an episode of Law and Order that she'd already seen.
She heard the front door open, a bag hit the hardwood floor. Then Jack strolled into her room, flopping onto her bed like he owned the place.
"Alright, what's up?"
Blair glanced over at him. "What do you mean?"
"You're drinking wine in the dark and watching a show you've seen a million times. That's weird."
She groaned, burying her face in her duvet. "You're insufferable."
"Yeah, but I'm also right." Jack leaned back against the headboard. "So spill. What's got you all mopey?"
She grabbed her glass of wine, downing the rest of it. "It's nothing, okay? Just drop it."
Jack gave her a long look, his smirk softening into something more serious. "Blair. I've known you for, like, ever. You're not okay. Just tell me."
"It's... it's Luke."
Jack's eyebrows shot up, and his grin was immediate. "Finally."
"This is exactly why I didn't want to say anything!"
"No, no, this is great!" he sat up, his excitement bubbling over. "You like him! Like, like-like him."
"Can you not make it sound like we're in middle school?" Blair shot back, though her face burned at his words.
"Okay, fine... but you're into him, right?"
"I don't know. Maybe," she whispered.
Jack nudged her shoulder. "You do."
Blair let out a frustrated laugh. "Jack, it's complicated. He's your brother. I've known him since he was a kid. And tonight, at the game, there was this girl, and he was..."
Jack frowned. "And you were jealous."
She bit her lip but didn't deny it.
Jack leaned over, grabbing her glass from her and putting it down on the nightstand. "Blair, listen to me. Luke's not a kid anymore. He hasn't been for a long time. And he's crazy about you. He's been crazy about you since he was old enough to know what a crush was."
"He doesn't--"
"He does," he interrupted firmly. "And I'm telling you, you don't have to feel guilty about this. If you like him--and I think you do--then let yourself have this. You deserve it. He does, too."
"And... you're okay with it? With us?"
Jack grinned. "Blair, you're my favourite person in the world. Luke's my brother. If the two of you make each other happy, the yeah, I'm okay with it. More than okay."
~~
Luke couldn't help but notice that Blair hadn't talked to him after the game. He didn't even see her until the next morning when she was making her daily coffee.
"Morning."
"Morning," she said, not even turning to look at him.
He grabbed some frozen fruit from the freezer, getting ready to make his smoothie. "You okay?"
Blair hesitated, taking a look at his face. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept much, but his eyes were still as warm as always.
"Yeah. Just... thinking."
"'Bout what?"
"About how much things have changed. And how... how much you've changed."
"Good change or, uh, bad change?"
"Good... I think."
Then air felt heavier, but not in a bad way. Luke clicked his tongue, about to respond when Blair brushed past him, wrapping her housecoat around her tighter.
"I'm gonna get ready for class."
~~
Luke was tired of just waiting for things to change. Blair deserved more than casual glances and hesitant words. She deserved to know how he felt, and he decided it was time to show her.
He looked down at the litle notebook resting on the table, one he'd seen Blair scribbling in late one night while she thought no one was around. It didn't seem to be much--just a collection of her to-do lists and random thoughts--but it had sparked an idea.
Blair arrived home from classes, balancing her tote bag and a paper bag of takeout. She kicked the door shut behind her, surprised by the warm glow of the apartment. The living room was dimly lit, a few candles flickering on the coffee table.
"Luke?" she called, setting her things down.
"In here," came his voice from their balcony.
Blair crossed the room, stepping outside to find Luke leaning against the railing. The table next to him was set with two plates, her favourite flowers in a simple vase at the centre.
"What's all this?"
Luke stood up, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I just... I wanted to do something for you. You've been working so hard, and I thought you could use a break."
"Luke, you didn't have to--"
"I wanted to," he interrupted.
He pulled out one of the chairs for her, gesturing for her to sit. Blair hesitated but eventually lowered herself into the seat. Luke took the spot across from her, his nervousness barely contained.
As they started eating, Blair couldn't help but notice the little details--how he'd ordered her favourite dish, how he kept the conversation light but still genuine. It was thoughtful... thoughtful in a personal way.
After dinner, Luke retrieved something from inside, returning with a small, wrapped package.
"What's this?" Blair asked.
"Just... open it," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
She tore the paper carefully, revealing a leather-bound notebook. It looked old; the edges were slightly worn, and the faint smell of ink and must wafted from it.
Blair ran her fingers over the cover, her breath catching. "This is... like the one I had as a kid."
Luke nodded. "You, uh, you told it about me during one of our late-night talks. How you used to write everything down--your dreams, stories, your plans for the future. I thought... you could start again... as an adult."
Blair's throat felt tight as she opened the journal. It was so simple, but it meant everything.
"Luke..."
He stepped closer, crouching slightly to meet her eyes. "Blair, you've always been this incredible, unstoppable force. And I just... I wanted you to have something that reminds you of that."
She stood, clutching the notebook to her chest. "Why are you doing this?"
"Because you matter to me, Blair. More than you know."
"Lu-"
"I know I'm just Jack's little brother to you," he said quietly, his voice steady despite his vulnerability. "But I'm not a kid anymore. And I've been waiting my whole life for you to see me--really see me."
Blair stared at him, processing his words. For so long, she'd fought against the pull she felt toward him, telling herself it was wrong, that it would complicate everything. But in that moment, with Luke standing in front of her, open and unguarded, she couldn't deny it anymore.
She reached up, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "You're not just Jack's little brother."
Luke's eyes widened slightly, his breath hitching as her hand lingered. Slowly, carefully, he leaned in, his forehead resting lightly against hers.
"Tell me to stop," he whispered.
But she didn't pull away. Instead, she closed the space, her lips brushing his in the most electrifying kiss of her life. Years of tension and unspoken moments poured into their kiss.
Blair pulled away, her cheeks flushed. "You've always been waiting for me to see you?"
"Yeah. And you were worth the wait."
~~
The morning after their kiss, Blair replayed the moment over and over again. Every glance, every touch, every whispered word from Luke had burned itself into her memory.
"Morning."
She jumped as Luke's voice cut through the quiet. She looked up to find him standing in front of her, his hair mussed.
"Morning."
"So... about last night."
Blair swallowed, setting down her coffee. "Yeah... we should probably talk about that."
Luke nodded. "Look, I'm not sorry it happened. But I don't want to make things harder for you. Or for us."
Blair's lips pressed into a thin line. "Jack's going to notice if things... change. And the rest of your family... I just don't want things to get too complicated too fast."
"So, what? We sneak around for a while? Keep this a secret?"
"Maybe," Blair said through her nervous smile.
Luke grinned, stepping closer until he was right in front of her. "I can work with that."
When his hand brushed against hers on the table, she didn't pull away.
Keeping their relationship under wraps turned out to be equal parts thrilling and frustrating.
There were more stolen moments in the kitchen, their hands brushing as they cooked. Blair would catch Luke staring from across the room, his eyes filled with something new.
Once when Jack was napping in his room, Luke cornered Blair in the hallway, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was quick but left her breathless.
"Someone's going to catch us," she whispered, trying to sound stern but failing.
Luke smirked, hands resting on her waist. "You worried about Rowdy? He sleeps like a rock."
Still, the constant sneaking around wasn't without its challenges. Jack had a knack for walking in at the worst possible times, forcing Blair and Luke to spring apart like guilty teenagers.
"Why are you both so jumpy lately?" Jack asked one evening, narrowing his eyes at them as they sat on opposite sides of the sofa.
"Jumpy? We're not jumpy," Blair replied quickly, her voice a little too high-pitched.
"Yeah," Luke added. "You're imagining things, Jack."
Jack's eyes narrowed further, but he didn't press--yet.
But it didn't take long for him to connect the dots. He wasn't oblivious, despite what Blair and Luke seemed to think.
The knowing grin that spread across his face when he walked into the kitchen and caught them in what they thought was a private moment. Luke's hand was on the small of Blair's back as she stood by the stove, and her laugh was just a bit too soft, too intimate.
"Oh my God," he startled them both.
"Jack! Wha--"
"No way," Jack interrupted, pointing between them. "Are you two fucking?!"
Luke sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jack, just--"
"You are!" he shouted. "This is amazing. I knew it! I fucking knew this would happen!"
Blair groaned, burying her face in her hands. "Jack, can you not make this a thing?"
"Oh, it's already a thing," Jack said, crossing his arms triumphantly. "And I'm a genius for making it happen."
"Making it happen?"
Jack shrugged, completely unbothered. "I gave you two all those nights alone. The movie night? You're welcome."
"You... you're telling me you've been matchmaking this whole time?" Blair gasped.
"Matchmaking, nudging, masterminding--call it what you want," Jack said with a smirk. "Point is, I'm responsible for this."
"Yeah, sure, Jack. All you," Luke rolled his eyes.
"So, when's the wedding? Can I be the best man and the maid of honour?"
~~
The sound of goal horn echoed in Luke's ears, but this time, it wasn't in celebration. Another defensive breakdown. Another minus on the scoresheet.
Luke sat in the locker room after, still in his gear, staring blankly at the floor. Around him his teammates untaped sticks and headed for the showers, but he felt frozen.
The reporters were outside, ready to dissect every mistake he'd made that night. The fans would be tweeting about his rookie performance. But worst of all, he'd let himself down.
When he finally got home, it was late. Blair was waiting for him on his bed. The second she saw him, her face softened.
"Hey."
Luke dropped his bag by the door, sinking down into his bed beside her, leaning his head on a pillow with a deep sigh.
"Rough game?"
He nodded, jaw tight. "I keep messing up. It's like... no matter what I do, it's not good enough. I'm not Jack. I'm not Quinn. I don't know if I'll ever be."
Blair reached over, resting a hand on his arm. "Luke, you don't have to be Jack or Quinn. You just have to be you. And you're amazing, even if you don't feel like it right now."
"What if I'm not? What if I'm not cut out for this?"
She shifted closer, wrapping her arms around him. "You are, Luke. And so do a lot of other people. You're allowed to have bad days. It doesn't make you less."
~~
Blair's phone buzzed with yet another text from her mom.
Mama: So... Luke? Are you two really together? Luke as in Jack's little brother?
She sighed, tossing her phone onto the bed beside her.
Her relationship with Luke had been public knowledge for a few weeks now--thanks to Jack's slip of the tongue at a post-game interview--but the fallout was more stressful than she could've anticipated.
Her parents were surprised but supportive, though their questions about the long-term implications left her feeling uneasy. And Jack? He was thrilled that the world knew now, that he didn't have to hide the secret.
"What if this changes everything?" she murmured aloud as she folded her laundry.
"What changes everything?" Luke asked, walking into her room with a bowl of cereal in hand.
Blair hesitated, her hands stilling on one of Luke's sweatshirts. "Us. You. Me and Jack. All of it."
Luke set the bowl down. "Blair, what are you talking about?"
"It's just... I don't want this to mess things up. With your family. With Jack. If something went wrong, it'd be--"
"It's not going to go wrong. And even if it did, that's on me, not you. You're not responsible for holding everything together."
"But I feel like I am. Jack's been like family to me my whole life. And now, with us, it's like I'm risking everything."
Luke took her hands. "You're not risking anything, Blair. Jack loves you. My family loves you. And I... I'm not going anywhere, okay? No matter how hard things get."
But the cracks began to show.
Luke's schedule grew more demanding as the Devils pushed for a playoff spot. Practices ran longer, travel days piled up, and his rookie season came with added scrutiny from fans and the media.
Blair was juggling her internship and her last semester of classes. Their time together became scarce, and when they did have a moment, it was often overshadowed by Luke's frustrations or Blair's anxiety.
"It's like no matter what I do, it's not enough," Luke paced the living room, hands in his hair. "I make on mistake, and everyone is on my ass. Meanwhile, the vets can screw up all night, and no one says a word."
Blair looked up from her computer, bags under her eyes. "Luke, I get it. I do. But can we just... not right now? I have a huge presentation tomorrow, and I'm barely keeping up as it is."
"I didn't mean to dump that on you. I just... forget it."
He turned to leave, but Blair reached out, catching his hand. "Lu, wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just--"
"It's fine," he pulled his hand away. "Good luck with your presentation."
The strain between them was becoming harder to ignore, and she didn't know how much longer they could keep pretending everything was fine.
~~
As soon as Luke entered the apartment, Blair warpped her arms around him. "I know it's been hard," she said quietly. "But I'm here. Always."
Luke exhaled, snaking his arms around her waist. "I know. And I'm sorry. For everything."
"We'll figure it out. Together."
"Yeah... together."
~~
The past few weeks had been spent making quick apologies and sharing half-hearted reassurances that everything was fine. But it wasn't fine. She'd spent so much of her time worrying about what other people wanted that she'd forgotten to think about what she wanted.
And she wanted Luke.
Jack: Game tonight. I snagged you a ticket. Go
~~
She slipped into her seat, spotting Jack on the ice with HUGHES on his back, just like hers and Luke's. He turned, catching her eye, and throwing her a thumbs up.
She spent the whole game watching Luke, her stomach flipping every time he would touch the puck. And when he scored in the second period, she leaped to her feet, cheering louder than everyone around her.
After the game, she waited by the players' tunnel, spotting Luke emerging from the locker room, his hair damp, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Luke!" she called.
His head snapped up, mouth dropping in surprise. "Blair?"
"Hey."
Luke glanced around, clearly aware of the people watching, but Blair didn't care. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.
"You were amazing!"
"I... I didn't know you were coming."
"I wasn't sure I was going to," she admitted, pulling back from their embrace to look in his eyes. "But then I realized I was being stupid. I don't care what anyone thinks. I'm with you because I want to be."
"You sure?"
"Completely."
~~
Blair attended every home game she could after that. No more secrets and they were feeling the best they had together. She supported him through the highs and lows of his rookie season. And Luke helped her study, even letting her practice her presentations on him.
"You know," she said softly. "I think we're pretty good at this."
Luke cocked an eyebrow. "At what?"
"Us."
He leaned in, lips brushing her temple. "Yeah. We are."
Jack entered the room, a smirk on his face. "Told you so."
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Whipped Cream
Paring: Bf Bang Chan x Gf FemReader
Genre: smut 18+, fluffy
Summary: Channie is awoken with a craving for some Whipped Cream but has nothing to eat it withâŚâŚâŚ.. or does he?
Note:Happy Thanksgiving Yâall
â¨đwarnings below the cutđâ¨
_________________________________________
Warnings: oral sex!F receiving!, food play, straight kinky, smut 18+, reader is smol, is set after Thanksgiving
Proofread:still no sorry, if thereâs an error comments are appreciated, only because I just thought about it Happy Early Thanksgiving đ
P.s I know thereâs a few days still til Thanksgiving but itâs close enough, right? WHO cares
Walking over to the fridge wasnât something youâd ordinarily be doing at 3 AM but knowing there was leftover pumpkin pie with your name on it made you dying for a slice.
Sneaking out of bed wasnât an easy task, you knew better then anyone that your boyfriend Chan was a light sleeper. If you were caught youâd be forced to share and never would you hear the end of how tired he was. Being as quiet as possible you snuck out, making sure you closed the door behind you so the fridge light wouldnât disturb him.
A few floor boards squeaked and the clock on the wall chimed causing you to jump. You were in the clear, you got out your pie and squirted a generous amount of Whipped Cream on top. Sitting back in your chair you enjoyed the sweet flavors of the pie Han made with you on Thanksgiving.
Only a few minutes had passed and the pie was already gone, thinking about how long it took you to make, it seemed pointless for how easily it disappeared. You adored every second of it tho, all the members at your place hanging out, eating to their hearts desire and not caring about their idol image.
Channie decided it was a good idea to get together every year on thanksgiving and come to an agreement about what to write on a thankful leaf to have as a âpersonal keepsakeâas he so calls it. Some of the members thought it was a great idea, being able to look back and see what they all were most thankful for that year, others not so much.
Deep in thought you didnât notice your boyfriend creeping up from behind you. His little face peeked at you from where he stood in the hallway. You turn to face him surprised by the way his face looked, awake and not like someone who had just been sleeping.
âI thought you were sleepingâ you got no response from Chan, instead he walks over and put his arms around your neck slipping his hands down to your boobs, cupping underneath them like they were hand warmers.
âSomething wrong?â You ask with a giggle but still no response, he pulls you from your chair and turns you by the chin to meet his gaze. Looking at him you see heâs staring not at your eyes but your lips, you hadnât even noticed the Whipped Cream still on your lips from minutes ago. To nervous yet curious as is to why your boyfriend was acting so strange.
He swipes his thumb across your lip and finally answers with a soft ânoâ, before taking it in his mouth, moaning as he sucks on his finger. His eyes were shut and you could now tell he had a motive for his actions.
His movements were subtle but precise, like a lion stalking his prey he was trying to be sly and not startle you with his plan to make you feel good and have some fun at the same time.
âI was just not tired anymore and was awoken by the sound of the Whipped Cream bottleâ
âIâm sorry babe I tried to be quiet, I know itâs hard for you to sleepâ you said in a whine
âI was invaded with a thoughtâ he said putting his hands around your waist.
âI donât know just thought maybe I could eat some Whipped Cream, ya know?â
âYou want some Whipped Cream?â
âYeaâ he said in an instant, almost proud of himself.
Turning towards the counter to grab the bottle you can feel his hand slide to your thigh, the other still on your waist not letting you go from his hold.
âHere then silly have someâ you said squirting some on his lips.
He giggled âIâm not the silly one, silly i need something to eat it onâ
âThereâs no pie left so youâll have to get something elseâ
He licked the cream off his lips and rested his forehead against yours, now mere inches away from your face, you could smell his minty breath blowing into your nose.
âI want to eat it off of you Puppetâ
Your breath hitched in your throat, flustered and probably beat red. The confidence in Chanâs voice making it harder for you to keep your composure.
Pulling you closer, Chan placed a sloppy wet kiss at the corner of your mouth. Slowly he crept his hand up to your neck and leaned into you further, desperately trying to deepen the kiss. He pushed you back into the wall and kept you there, pressing his body against yours.
You donât know from where but you found your confidence again, probably from realizing even tho heâs incredibly hot and the most sexy human being youâve ever placed your eyes on, heâs still just Chan. The same Chan you go on long car rides around town with belting out your favorite songs together. The same Chan that kisses you to bed every night and says âIâll see you tomorrow Puppetâ making you feel safe and comfortable with him at all times.
You broke away from the kiss and teased him, taking of your top and spraying a small amount of Whipped Cream on your nipple. Quickly you knew you had to run, especially after that stunt you just pulled Chan was prolly rock hard and you havenât even touched him yet.
Once inside, you laid down on the bed and made yourself comfortable while awaiting Chanâs next move.
âNo need to worry Puppet, tonightâs about you and making you feel all good and taken care of, I promiseâ
He said it like he needed to reassure you, like you would run away if he didnât say it. You knew Chan and reminded yourself of that, all nervousness and anxiety gone by his lil side smile and messy bleached curls that fell in his face.
Chan went to the cavern between your boobs, licking the sweet remains of the Whipped Cream that melted and slid there. Your foot found its way to Chanâs hard member in his pants, a reassuring smile against your skin as you rubbed it ever so slightly.
âGod Puppet you taste so sweetâ he said in between sucks.
You were squirming underneath him barely able to keep your composure with his big cloud like lips attached to you.
âOffâ was all you could get yourself to say as you pulled at his shirt, he obliged pulling it over his head in one swift motion discarding it somewhere across the room. The satin feel of the skin on his pecks sent quivers down your spine, thinking of what other parts of your body would feel like dragging against it as your finger so effortlessly did now.
One breathy kiss on your skin led to the next, Chan slowly making his way down to your clothed cunt. All you had on was underwear so Chan could have easily slipped it off, but no. He did it oh so gently, delicately placing his fingers under the thin fabric and sliding it down, like you would brake if he hadnât done it so excruciatingly slow.
He spreads open your folds pumping two fingers in, your tight walls surrounding him earning a breathy moan to escape from his lips.
âFuck Puppet your so wet for me and I haven't even touched you yetâ
Topically you didnât want to look, to shy or embarrassed to do so but tonight was different in so many ways. You desperately wanted to see Chan pleasure you, watch him as he pumped his fingers inside you. Watch as the rings on his bony fingers disappeared and reappeared wet and glistening in the soft light. See Chanâs visual approval and the shudders that leave his body when he knows it feels good.
When Chan feels you are ready he pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth, savoring your essence left on his skin, something youâve only ever seen him do so seductively.
He cocks his head and looks at you with a devilishly cute smirk, almost to cute especially when having sex âyou had your late night snack now itâs my turnâ grabbing the bottle of Whipped Cream from the bedside table he sprayed a small dollop on your clit. The feeling was cold but soft and you were already so wet and so desperate for friction you could care less what was on you as long as Chan accompanied it.
Chan stared at your vagina for a few seconds smiling like an idiot, felt like hours to you just laying there all worked up and horny whilst your boyfriend admired his work.
âWhat is it baby Iâm wasting awayâ you whined, clawing at his arms in desperate attempt to make him move, blink even.
âIâm sorry Puppet your cunt is just to cute, your glistening folds and an adorable bundle of nerves now fashioned with a cute dollop of Whipped Cream.â
Feeling ashamed for having whined at him, you hid your face in a nearby pillow and tried your best to stay still as Chan drug his finger over your clit, pushing some of the Whipped Cream down your slit.
He then snaps, waisting no time diving nose first into your sweet wet pussy, devouring every inch of you, sucking the Whipped Cream off you and lightly flicking your clit with his tongue.
His large frame towering over you despite him being between your legs. You were always short and small, called a runt sometimes in school, but Chan swooped in and made you feel safe, with being so large and as muscular as he is it was easy to feel so. Accompanied with all his praising words he sorta became like your safe haven.
You were a mess head flung back and your eyes sealed shut, hands roaming for something to pull. As Chan prodded his wet tongue at your hole, your hands bolted to his hair, softly tugging at his roots trying to make him go further in your sex.
His movements were sloppy, your bed was a mess, your breathing was out of control, but you felt hot, rocking your hips into Chanâs face practically suffocating him between your thighs.
Chan knew you were close before you did, was probably very easy to tell from where he was âI know your close Puppet so just move me where you need me and Iâll help you.â
You pawed at Chanâs chest as he sprayed some more Whipped Cream on your soaking cunt, couldnât even tell cause of how wet you felt. He pushed your legs up and started again, reattaching himself to his little bundle of nerves, sucking and licking in all the right places as you rode out your high.
After you cummed all over Chanâs face you were completely out of it, unable to move from how hard your orgasm hit you. All you could feel was Chanâs soft kisses around your groin and occasionally the warm feeling of a wet washcloth. Water slowly turning cold as he gently washed away all the Whipped Cream that may have been left on your fragile and sensitive skin.
Chan flopped down beside you pussy drunk and almost completely incoherent, staring off into space.
A small âcold Channieâ was all you could mutter out, still high on your orgasm and tired from being up so late.
âOkâ he huffed while pulling you into his chest. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wetness from your oozing cunt now all over his bare stomach. Noticing he didnât mind you snuggled closer to him, breathing in the musky smell of his faded cologne.
You let yourself be put in a trance by Chanâs small touches, flicking your hair back out of his face, rubbing small circles on your back with his soft fingertips, and the small gruff groans that he would make when you tried to move in closer, if that were physically possible.
The small up and down movements from Chan breathing and the moonlight coming from your open window soon sent you to sleep. You couldnât tell if Chan was actually asleep or not, his eyes were shut but usually it takes him a couple agonizing hours of staring at the wall before heâs sleeping.
You felt safe like this with Chan so you didnât let yourself worry too much. Could that have been selfishâŚâŚâŚ. probably yes, but you just enjoyed his slow breaths as he rocked you soundly to sleep.
#stray kids#fandom#skz x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#bang chanâs ass#skz bang chan#bang Chan#BangChan smut#smut#stray kids smut#skz smut#stray kids bang chan#bang chan smut#bang chan x reader#food mention#whipped cream#happy thanksgiving#holiday post#christopher bang#pumpkin pie#food kink#bangchan#stray kids chan#Channie#skz channie#thanksgiving#my pookies#my pookie#q
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miss honey | jack hughes social media au (pt.4)
pt.3
yournamelastname
Liked by _quinnhughes, l_hughes06 and others
yournamelastname oh michigan how i love you
trevorzegras oh wow
_quinnhughes me not being able to go home for thanksgiving this time is my 13th reason
l_hughes06 the fact that you made hot chocolate for JACK and y'all didn't save any for me...... foul
yournamelastname i took pity on him he cried today
jackhughes now why would you say this on the internet
yournamelastname i thought it would humanize you, mr robot. it's sweet that you cried because you accidentally stepped on your pup.
l_hughes06 he stepped on bear????
jackhughes ACCIDENTALLY
colecaufield am i the only one weirded out by y/n using sweet and jack in the same sentence
jackhughes
Liked by yournamelastname, _quinnhughes and others
jackhughes great day with all the brave kiddos at @newark_bethnj thank you for letting us hang with you!
trevorzegras tears coming down my face
yournamelastname you're not half as bad as you look...........
l_hughes06 IT'S A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE
colecaufield yeah right đ§
jackhughes i'm great with kids you know this
yournamelastname come visit mine or else
trevorzegras i can go!!
jackhughes you're on the other side of the country
trevorzegras say the word miss honey
jackhughes stay silent
yournamelastname
Liked by _quinnhughes, trevorzegras and others
yournamelastname i had to pay for my own ticket for this... and these two lost (((but at least i met this cool penguins fan!!)))
jackhughes yeah cause you said you were only going because of sid!!!
colecaufield what's wrong jacky? getting jealous of the old man?
yournamelastname you're so not chivalrous
jackhughes yeah yeah chivalry is dead, shortcake
elblue6 Jack! Luke! you made her pay??? What is wrong with you?
l_hughes06 mom she was cheering for the penguins
elblue6 she could be cheering for the rangers you've been friends your whole lives!
l_hughes06 it's not my fault jack got jealous
jackhughes delete
jackhughes
Liked by nicohischier, jesperbratt and others
jackhughes it's like having a toddler over
l_hughes06 damnit shortcake
jackhughes this is insane right??
l_hughes06 yeah now i owe her $100 because i bet she wouldn't actually do it and she did
jackhughes of course you were in on this
yournamelastname stop being boring rowden
elblue6 i LOVE what she did with the place
jackhughes not you too
elblue6 your apartment is too sterile
yournamelastname he's a sad beige mom, ellen
jackhughes take that back right now
trevorzegras you can do my pad next miss honey! whatever you like
jackhughes quiet now
pt. 5
#nhl#nhl fic#nhl x reader#hughes brothers#quinn hughes#l. hughes#inktopuck#luke hughes#q hughes#q. hughes#jack hughes#l hughes#j hughes#j. hughes#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x oc#jack hughes au#jack hughes fanfic#jack hughes fic#jack hughes x reader#inktopuck miss honey
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Polo Drone Thanksgiving Convergence
The crisp autumn morning was filled with excitement as the Thompson family prepared for their annual outing to the Macyâs Thanksgiving Day Parade. The kids, Emily and Jake, were bouncing with joy, eagerly anticipating the giant balloons and festive floats. Their mother, Rachel, was bustling around, making sure everyone was dressed warmly and had a hearty breakfast.
As the family gathered in the living room, waiting for everyone to be ready, Tom, the father, sat down with a cup of coffee and flipped through the stack of Black Friday ads. He was a deal hunter by nature, always looking for the best bargains. But today, something caught his eye that left him scratching his head.
âRachel, come look at this,â Tom called out, his brow furrowed in confusion. He held up an ad showing a sleek, black, rubber-like polo shirt being promoted by several stores. âCan you believe this? It looks like everyone is selling these weird black rubber shirts this year. Whatâs the deal with this trend?â
Rachel chuckled as she walked over, glancing at the ad. âOh, Tom, itâs just fashion. You know how these trends can be. Last year it was those oversized sweaters, and this year, itâs apparently rubber shirts. I guess theyâre supposed to look futuristic or something.â
Tom shook his head, still not convinced. âFuturistic? They look like something out of a sci-fi movie. I just donât get it. Who would want to wear a rubber shirt?â
Emily, who had been listening in, piped up. âMaybe theyâre for superheroes, Dad! Like those suits they wear in the movies.â
Jake joined in, adding his own theory. âOr maybe theyâre for people who spill a lot. You know, easier to clean up!â
Tom laughed, ruffling Jakeâs hair. âYou two might be onto something. But I think Iâll stick to my good old cotton polos.â
Rachel smiled and gave Tom a reassuring pat on the shoulder. âDonât worry, honey. You donât have to understand every trend. Letâs just focus on having a great day at the parade.â
With everyone finally ready, they grabbed their coats and headed out the door, their minds filled with thoughts of balloons, marching bands, and holiday cheer. As they walked towards the subway, Tom took one last look at the ad, still bemused by the rubber shirts, but more than ready to enjoy the day with his family.
After some hunting, they found a perfect spot along the bustling parade route. The streets were packed with excited spectators, their faces lit up with anticipation. The children, Emily and Jake, squeezed their way to the front, eager for the best view. Rachel and Tom stood just behind them, holding hands, feeling the festive energy in the air.
As the parade began, a wave of cheers and applause swept through the crowd. The grand turkey float, a staple of the Macyâs Thanksgiving Day Parade, rolled into view, adorned with vibrant feathers and sparkling lights. Its massive size and intricate design captivated everyone, young and old alike.
Emily and Jake were transfixed, their eyes wide with wonder as the float passed by. They pointed out every detail, from the golden beak to the colorful autumn leaves decorating the base. Rachel smiled, soaking in their joy, while Tom couldnât help but chuckle at their enthusiasm.
Amid the excitement, no one seemed to notice the details that Tom had found so peculiar earlier that morning. The performers on the float, who were waving and dancing energetically, wore an array of costumes, some of which included the very black rubber polo shirts he had seen in the ads. The shirts, now part of the parade's futuristic-themed segment, blended seamlessly with the other costumes and props, adding a modern twist to the traditional spectacle.
Tom leaned in towards Rachel and whispered, âLook at that, some of them are wearing those rubber shirts. I guess they found a way to make them lookâŚinteresting.â
Rachel glanced up, her eyes catching the glint of the shirts under the parade lights. She smiled and nodded. âWell, at least now we know theyâre not just for superheroes or messy eaters.â
They shared a quiet laugh, the moment adding a personal touch to the grand event.
The first balloon of the parade, a towering Kung Fu Panda, floated into view, eliciting gasps and cheers from the crowd. Po, the beloved panda, soared high above the street, his enormous form swaying gently in the crisp autumn breeze. Below him, a group of clowns, dressed in colorful, traditional clown outfits, guided the balloon with expert precision. Their costumes, however, had an unexpected twist: each clown sported a black rubber polo shirt beneath their vibrant suspenders and oversized pants.
Tom noticed it first. His eyes locked onto the peculiar combination of the whimsical clown attire and the futuristic black shirts. He elbowed Rachel gently, nodding towards the clowns. âLook, theyâre wearing those shirts again,â he muttered, unable to hide his bemusement.
As the clowns danced and waved, the parade watchersâespecially the menâbegan to focus on the black rubber shirts. There was something oddly mesmerizing about the contrast between the playful clown costumes and the sleek, modern shirts. It sparked conversations among them, a mix of curiosity and bewilderment.
âI didnât think these shirts would catch on like this,â Tom remarked, half to himself, half to Rachel.
Rachel laughed softly. âWell, it looks like theyâre becoming quite the fashion statement. Even the clowns are in on it!â
The men around Tom shared similar sentiments, their attention divided between the spectacular parade and the strange allure of the rubber shirts. Some were intrigued, others skeptical, but all found themselves oddly captivated.
The children, meanwhile, remained oblivious to the fashion discussion. Emily and Jake were entirely focused on the towering Kung Fu Panda, their faces glowing with excitement as they pointed and cheered.
As the parade continued, the anticipation grew with every passing float and balloon. Then came the police unit, marching with precision and pride.
They were dressed in impressive uniforms from head to toeâshiny tall black boots, tight shiny black runner pants, and the now infamous black rubber polo shirts, accented with striking gold details. Their ensemble was topped off with crisp, shiny black caps, completing the look of modern authority.
The sight of the police unit was mesmerizing. The men watching the parade found themselves captivated, their attention riveted to the officersâ uniforms. It was as if the world around them had faded away; their minds went blank, completely consumed by the sleek and polished appearance of the unit.
Tom, like many others, stood still, his gaze fixed on the marching officers. He barely noticed the tug on his sleeve from Emily or the questions from Jake. The uniforms had a hypnotic effect, drawing all the men's eyes leaving them entranced.
Rachel, sensing the shift, glanced at Tom and the other men around them, a mix of amusement and curiosity on her face. She gently nudged Tom, bringing him back to the present. âTom, are you okay?â she asked, smiling.
Tom blinked, his trance broken. âYeah, Iâm fine. Itâs justâŚthose uniforms are something else,â he said, shaking his head as if to clear it.
The children, unaware of the fashion statement causing such a reaction, continued to watch the parade with delight. The police unit moved on, their presence leaving an indelible impression on the crowd. For Tom and the other men, the image of the black rubber police uniforms would linger in their minds
As the parade continued, a new spectacle caught the attention of the crowd. A marching band, resplendent in black rubber uniforms that gleamed under the parade lights, approached in perfect formation. Each member wore the now-familiar black rubber polo shirts, the uniforms reflecting an eerie sheen.
The moment the band came into view, the men in the crowd, including Tom, fell silent and still, their gazes fixed on the band. It was as if an invisible force had taken hold of them, rendering them oblivious to everything around them. The air was thick with a sense of anticipation and unease.
The band's music started softly, a harmonious blend of brass and percussion that gradually grew louder. Within the melody, subtle yet insistent, were the words "obey, serve" embedded seamlessly into the notes. The mantra repeated over and over, threading through the music like a whispering command.
The men, entranced by the uniforms and the hypnotic quality of the music, stood frozen, their minds blank. They heard nothing but the embedded words, "obey, serve," resonating within their subconscious. The children tugged at their fathers' sleeves, asking questions and seeking attention, but received no response. Rachel, along with the other women and unaffected spectators, looked on with growing concern.
The band continued to play, their synchronized movements and powerful music creating an almost surreal atmosphere. No matter what Rachel triedâcalling out to Tom, shaking his shoulderânothing could break the trance that held him and the other men captive.
The parade marched on, the dazzling floats and colorful characters passing by unnoticed by the entranced men. For them, the world had shrunk to the relentless repetition of "obey, serve," echoing in their minds, binding them to the spell of the marching band.
As the band moved further along the parade route, the music gradually faded, and the spell began to lift. The men blinked, as if waking from a deep sleep, slowly becoming aware of their surroundings again. Tom shook his head, feeling disoriented. He turned to Rachel, confusion etched on his face.
"Rachel, what happened?" he asked, his voice shaky.
Rachel, relieved but still worried, put a comforting hand on his arm. "You were in a trance, Tom. All of you were. I think it was the band⌠their uniforms and the music."
As the final segment of the parade approached, the anticipation in the air reached its peak. The firemen, traditionally the final group before Santaâs grand entrance, marched in with an air of authority.
They were dressed in full rubber uniforms, their shiny black polo shirts gleaming under the bright parade lights. Their presence exuded a sense of strength and unity, a stark contrast to the festive chaos around them.
The moment the men in the crowd caught sight of the firemen, the transformation was instant. Eyes glazed over, expressions turned blank, and, as if controlled by an unseen force, they began to move forward, pushing through the throngs of people, shoving their wives and children aside in their single-minded pursuit.
Rachel tried to hold onto Tom, but his strength and determination overpowered her. The children looked up in confusion and fear as their fathers moved in unison towards the curb, their movements mechanical, their gazes fixed on the marching firemen.
Then, in a spectacle that defied belief, Santa Claus appeared, bringing the holiday season to life. But to the shock of the women and children, Santa too was dressed in a shiny black rubber suit, with a black buttoned-up polo shirt prominently displayed. The traditional red and white suit was gone, replaced by this futuristic, unnerving attire.
As Santaâs float passed by, he began throwing black polo shirts into the crowd. The men, now in a full trance, scrambled to catch them, clawing over one another in desperation. The sight was both surreal and unsettling, as these ordinarily composed men fought for the shirts like their very lives depended on it.
Each man who managed to grab a shirt put it on immediately. The transformation was complete; they stood at perfect attention, their expressions devoid of any emotion, their minds seemingly blank. The parade continued, but for the families of these men, the day had taken an unexpected and eerie turn.
Rachel held her children close, her heart pounding with a mix of confusion and fear. She glanced around at the other bewildered wives and mothers, all of them sharing the same look of shock and helplessness.
As Santaâs float proceeded down the street, the festive atmosphere took on an even stranger turn. Behind the sleigh came a line of men dressed in the same black rubber uniforms, but this time with ominous gas masks covering their faces. Their silent, methodical movements added a chilling undertone to the parade.
These masked men approached each individual at the curb who had donned the new black polo. Without a word, they placed gas masks over the menâs faces. Almost instantaneously, the men fell into line, their movements synchronized and robotic. They left the curb, stepping into the street to join the parade.
The wives and children, already bewildered by the events, watched in horror and confusion as their loved ones marched away, now part of this enigmatic collective. The men, now resembling drones more than individuals, moved in perfect formation, their expressions blank, their minds seemingly lost.
Santa, leading this surreal procession, continued to distribute the black polos, reinforcing the transformation. The spectacle left the crowd in stunned silence, the festive joy overshadowed by the eerie uniformity of the new recruits.
Rachel clutched her children tightly, her heart heavy with fear and uncertainty. She searched for Tom among the ranks of the newly transformed, but he was already lost in the sea of identical figures. The parade continued, each step of the marching men echoing like a haunting drumbeat.
As the final float disappeared from sight, the wives and children were left standing, the parade route now eerily quiet
As Jake grew up, the memories of that Macyâs Thanksgiving Day Parade and the mysterious transformation of his father lingered in the back of his mind. The image of the black rubber polo shirts and the blissful expression on his fatherâs face became an obsession, a puzzle piece he could never quite fit into place. The desire to understand and experience what his father had gone through grew stronger with each passing year.
On his 18th birthday, Jake received a package in the mail. His mother had no knowledge of it, and the sender's identity was a mystery. With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, he opened the package. Inside was a black rubber polo shirt, identical to the ones he remembered from that fateful day.
Jake felt a strange pull as he ran his fingers over the smooth material. The sensation was both thrilling and unsettling. Without hesitation, he slipped the shirt on, feeling its cool embrace against his skin. Almost immediately, his mind went blank, the words "obey" and "serve" echoing in his consciousness like a relentless mantra.
Robotic in his movements, Jake stood up and made his way to the front door. He opened it to find a figure standing there, a polo drone who had once been his father, waiting for him.
The drone placed a gas mask over Jake's face, and a wave of overwhelming joy and ecstasy washed over him. The connection was immediate and profound, an inexplicable sense of unity and purpose.
Jake had become one with the polo drone collective, joining his father and others who had been transformed. The bliss he felt was indescribable, a fusion of consciousness with a larger entity. As he marched away, his mind completely aligned with the collectiveâs purpose, he left behind a family that would never truly understand where he had gone or what he had become of him, his father or the other men who attended that Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade.
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Hit My LineâFratboy!Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader
summaryâ you and nicholas are on thanksgiving break away from each other so he hits your line for help in his time of need.
warningsâ switch!nicholas, L bombs, fluff, phone sex, male and female masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, degrading kink.
a/nâ happy thanksgiving to those who celebrate but be careful with the turkeys, the men are fucking them apparently <3
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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.
âItâs just a few days, baby. Youâll see me soon,â you whispered softly, trying to ease the ache in his heart. âAnd if thereâs anythingâanything at allâhit my line.â
His voice was thick with emotion, but he nodded, a soft smile breaking through his sadness. "Iâll miss you so much."
The few hours apart felt unbearable, even though they werenât even a full day. As soon as you arrived home, your phone buzzed with a message from Nicholas:
âI miss you already. I canât stand being away from you. I just want to hold you.â
You smiled, typing out a quick reply: âI miss you too, baby. Weâll be back together before you know it.â
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.
âHappy Thanksgiving to my incredible girlfriend,â Nicholas beamed over the phone, his voice warm and full of affection.
âGood morning, baby,â you whispered, your heart fluttering. âHappy Thanksgiving to you too.â
âI'm so thankful for you,â he said, his tone deepening. "You mean everything to me, I love you.â
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 couldnât be held back. âI love you too,â you said, voice cracking.
âI didnât mean to make you cry, baby,â he cooed. âIâm just so glad I have you.â
You wiped at your eyes, trying to calm yourself. âItâs okay. Iâm just so thankful for you too. You're the best boyfriend I could ever ask for.â
He chuckled softly. âI 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.â
âI promise, next time,â you said, wiping away your final tear. âTell her weâll make it happen.â
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. âHowâs Thanksgiving going, baby?â
His reply came quickly: âGreat, but I have a bit of a problem, Iâll tell you about it later.â
Concerned, you quickly typed back: âIs everything okay?â
âYeah, donât worry. Itâs nothing serious, just something I wanted to talk to you about later, when weâre alone.â
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.
âHey, baby,â he said, sounding a littleâoff.
âHey, sweetheart. Whatâs the problem you were talking about? Youâve got me worried.â
He took a deep breath before speaking again. âWellâuh, to be honest, Iâve been really horny all day,â he admitted with a slight laugh. âAnd I canât stop thinking about you.â
You felt a surge of heat at his confession. âHow can you be thinking about that when you're with your family?â 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, âI don't know, I justâIâve been thinking about you nonstop. I wish you were here.â
You let out a soft laugh, heart racing. âWell, baby, what do you want to do about it?â
There was a brief silence on the other end, and then he whispered, âIâve never done this before, but I wanna try phone sex. Iâve heard the guys in the frat talk about it, and I donât knowâI just really need you.â
âIâm down if you are, baby,âyou said softly, feeling your body react. âBut I donât have my vibrator with me.â
Nicholas chuckled. âWell, I donât have anything but my hand, but thatâs enough as long as I hear your voice.â
Your breath hitched, and you could practically feel the tension between you two building on the phone. âI think thatâll do just fine,â you said, a teasing smile playing at your lips.
âWait fuck, I forgot I had facetime, wanna switch?â 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. âYou look beautiful,â he said, admiring you as the red of your LED lights lit up your face, âthe red lights are fitting.â
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.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful baby,â he grunted, bucking his hips. You could see the outline of his cock pressing against his pajamas.
âTell me all the things you want to do to me baby,â 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. âGod, I miss that body,â you breathed, your voice a little shaky.
Nicholasâ gaze darkened, his lips curling into a smile as he ran his fingers over his abs. âYou like what you see, baby?â he asked, his voice husky, each word slow and deliberate. âYouâre driving me crazy here. Iâm so hard for you, you have no idea.â
You shivered at his words, âI think youâre forgetting who has the real power here,â 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. âYou know youâre just as beautiful as always,â he said, his eyes never leaving you. âI canât stop imagining the way youâd feel with me inside you right now.â
You grinned, âIs that so? I think I could help you with that. If only you were here.â
âIâd be all over you,â he murmured, his voice a low growl. His hand moved lower again, teasing his cock, though he didnât touch fully. âIâd show you just how much I miss you.â
You bit your lip, unable to stop your pulse from quickening as his voice made the moment feel even more intimate. âIf I were, Iâd make sure you never wanted to leave me again.â
Nicholas groaned softly. âYouâre playing with me, arenât you?â His eyes flickered as his breath quickened, clearly lost in the moment. âYouâre making me wish we werenât miles apart right now.â
You smiled, a sense of power blooming within you as you responded, âTrust me, baby. Iâd make it worth your while.â
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.
âFuck, keep doing that baby, grope those fucking tits for me,â he moaned, his hands now stroking his painfully hard cock.
âI wish you were here to do it for me baby, I love the way your tongue flicks my nipples,â 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.
âFucking hell baby, Iâm gonna be so fucking deep inside that wet pussy when I see you,â he gasped, his hand moving to caress his balls.
âIâm gonna ride that cock so good, make you cum deep inside me.â 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.
âFuck, I need that so bad right now baby, keep rubbing that clit, tell me more.â He spread his pre cum on the tip, a sweet whimper leaving his lips as his body shuddered.
âI want you to choke me while you fuck me, hard while you tell me how much of a slut I am,â you murmured, rubbing your clit in rough circles.
âI can do that baby, I can tell you how much of a dirty slut you are, fuck, youâre such a slut right now for doing this with me,â he said. The words uttering his lips were foreign to him, he was more inclined to have you do the degrading and taking the leadâunless you asked of course.
âOhâ baby, I wish you were here to fuck me hard from behind, I know how much you love this ass slapping against you,â you breathed out, your efforts speeding up, you were right on edge.
âMake sure you keep that same fucking energy when I see you, âcause Iâll be the one in control,â 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, âyou see how fast Iâm stroking this hard fucking cock? Thatâs how fast Iâll be fucking you.â
âBaby, I think Iâm gonna cum, can I cum for you?â you asked, now slipping your fingers inside your pussy.
âN-not yet, take those fingers out and put them in your mouth and then fuck yourself with them again,â he demanded, stroking his cock even faster now, âthen I want you groping your tits.â
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 Nicholasâ 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 boyfriendâs breathy moans on facetime.
âFuck, be a good fucking girl and cum for me, cum for me baby,â he gasped.
âOh, Nicholas,â 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.
âFucking hell baby, youâre so hot, squirting like thatâshit, oh God, Iâm gonna cum, can I cum baby? Please, Iâm your good boy, I wanna cum for you,â he gasped, his body trembling as his hands moved quickly up and down his shaft.
âCum for me baby, let me see that load all over your hand for me,â 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. âF-fuck baby, that was so hot,â he moaned breathily.
You both took a moment, panting as you stared at each other, your naked bodies rising and falling.
âI really enjoyed that baby,â you smiled, âshit, my screenâs all messed up.â
He laughed, rubbing his cum all over his abdomen, âI enjoyed that even more sweetheart, but now we gotta get cleaned up and you need your beauty rest.â
âWell, I guess this is goodbye until I call you next morning?â you giggled.
âNo problem baby, I love you so much, never forget that and I miss you so much, I canât wait to see you,â he said, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.
âI love you too Nick, Iâll call you tomorrow and Iâll see you soon.â
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