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nachojaehyun · 6 months ago

Text

you give good love

pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader

summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

w.c. 5.10K

playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this

warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!

“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”

soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.

“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”

“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.

“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.

“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”

“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”

“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”

your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.

“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”

with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.

as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.

이찬: oi

이찬: did you get the plane tickets?

with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.

you: ya, i will be coming.

you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.

your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.

you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.

your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”

as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.

your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.

“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.

the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.

soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.

you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.

within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.

“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.

in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.

immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”

muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.

as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.

lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.

it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.

for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.

he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.

he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.

as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.

“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.

“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.

“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.

“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”

“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.

“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.

“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”

minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”

within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.

as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”

almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.

wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.

he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.

chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”

you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.

“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”

“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.

“its me.”

your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

he knew what you were referring to.

back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.

you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.

yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.

you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.

“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”

you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.

“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.

god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—

“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.

dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.

you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.

“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.

“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”

with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.

not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”

with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”

“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.

chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.

how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.

“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.

“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.

chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”

before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.

“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”

chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”

“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”

“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.

but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.

what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?

nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.

seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.

you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.

“so, how have you been? a long time has passed since we spoke right?”

you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.

“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”

he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”

when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.

you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?

“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”

the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.

“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.

you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”

chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.

“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.

dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.

the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.

you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.

within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.

at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.

"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.

"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."

"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.

"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."

smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.

however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.

your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.

his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.

"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.

he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.

meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.

unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.

what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.

the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.

every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.

everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.

chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.

jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”

as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”

the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.

the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.

“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.

questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.

as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.

“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.

“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.

“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”

“yeah, sure.”

“no repercussions?”

“no repercussions.”

with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”

seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.

“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”

with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.

as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.

lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.

why were you making this so hard for him?

it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.

your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.

your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.

i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.

she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-

with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.

your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.

your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.

you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.

you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.

suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”

the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.

“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.

“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.

with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.

morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.

“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.

“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”

“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.

you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”

with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”

that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.

“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.

he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.

you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.

“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”

you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.

“f-fuck channie! i’m—”

before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.

“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.

his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.

“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.

as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.

“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”

you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.

steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.

this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.

his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.

its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”

one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.

chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.

dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.

you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.

without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.

“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.

the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.

“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.

when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.

a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.

“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.

with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.

your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.

“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.

“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.

dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.

he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”

“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.

in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.

your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.

your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.

“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.

you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.

lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.

“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.

“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.

he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”

“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.

“she had the same name as you.”

2K notes · View notes

supercutszns · 8 months ago

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twin beads | luke castellan

wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader

synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)

warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)

i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach

“Ahoy, sailor!”

The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming.

But maybe not as much as you love your best friend.

He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”

You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”

Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.

All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.”

“Make me, you mailman.”

Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you.

He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet.

“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you.

He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm.

“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”

“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”

You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts.

Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since.

Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)

But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep.

Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most.

Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!

Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now.

You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.”

The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!

You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath.

“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”

You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.)

When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!” It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”

Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you.

“And where’s your towel?”

“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.”

Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what��s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”

“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought.

After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.”

He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.

The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”

“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?”

“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully.

“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”

Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere.

You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it.

“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”

“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”

Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me!

You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”

Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”

“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks.

“Not the spiders, the twins.”

Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”

He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it.

His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully.

Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”

You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.

You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much.

After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty.

“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun.

Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can.

Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”

“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”

There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”

“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly.

Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it.

You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”

“But doesn’t it make you mad?”

“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.”

“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly.

“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”

His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”

Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right?

“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath.

“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”

His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”

“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”

Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”

He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”

Oh, well. You’ll take it.

ii. you can't help but become the sun

You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does.

You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time.

When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him.

“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”

He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”

Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”

“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.”

“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back.

Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”

“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.

“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady.

“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”

The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn.

Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”

He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe.

“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?

“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance.

Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.

iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning.

“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why.

You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin.

Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously.

You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him.

“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him.

He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him.

But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine.

“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal.

He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.”

You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.

Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right?

You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves.

“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy.

“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game?

“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up.

You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”

Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.”

You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut.

Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself.

The claiming symbol of Poseidon.

“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth.

Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest.

You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”

When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon.

Poseidon.

You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.

Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour.

This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes.

iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you

You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place.

It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again.

You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do.

This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life.

You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you.

You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect.

The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised?

He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”

You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”

“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water.

Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”

When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”

“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes.

“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread.

“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”

His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs.

“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out.

The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs.

You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise.

When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”

It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now.

“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why��why now? What did I do?”

Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly.

You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”

Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”

Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”

His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly.

He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”

You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”

“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”

An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.

Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”

Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.

Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon.

“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”

Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”

It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.

He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”

“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?”

You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.

“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile.

“What do you want me to ask you?”

“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”

“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”

He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world.

It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need.

Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit.

“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy.

He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”

“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour.

You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious.

He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it.

Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin.

His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse.

You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”

“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”

“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face.

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”

He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”

“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”

That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”

You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real.

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz @ash-williamsss @sucker-4-angst @kitkat-writes-stuff @too-deviant

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

#perrie’s fics #perrie's requests #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x you #percy jackson and the olympians #charlie bushnell #pjo x reader #pjo #luke castellan angst #luke castellan fluff

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andypantsx3 · 6 months ago

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thinking about a beach vacation with shouto.

he is distractingly handsome in his well-fitting board shorts, and even more so when he shucks his shirt and wants you to put his sunscreen on him yourself. then he promptly falls asleep in the sun, only rousing when you nudge him to rotate so he doesn't burn too badly on one side. he's unbearably beautiful, all that taught muscle stretched out in the sunlight, long lashes fanning the tops of his cheeks, his breath coming as slow and steady as the waves.

he wakes long enough to decimate all your beach snacks and let you reapply his sunscreen, before following you into the water and floating contentedly next to you. he falls back asleep on the towels when you come back in, his wet skin glittering in the sun, droplets sliding enticingly into the divots of his adonis belt before evaporating in the heat. you're ostensibly reading, but you keep getting distracted by the sight of him, marveling at how one person could be so lovely.

he helps you pack up when it's time to go back up to the hotel, his long fingers gently brushing sand from your skin. when you want to shower off the sand he follows you in and fucks you against the cool tile, kissing you slow and sweet beneath the shower spray. he takes you again when you insist on applying aloe, groaning under your hands and hitching you up over his waist.

you manage to leave the room just long enough to scrounge up a meal, but you're unwrapped and pressed down into the mattress as soon as you're back through the door again. shouto's skin is hot, almost feverish, and yours is too with the beginnings of a sunburn despite your best efforts, and it's a searing contrast against the cool of your room's air conditioning. shouto tastes fruity, like the drink he had at dinner, and he makes your head spin exactly like a cocktail himself.

you're slick with sweat by the time he's done with you, shivering as it cools against your skin and you think you should shower again. but shouto pins you against him with a strong arm over your waist, and falls asleep with his face tucked into the crook of your neck. you can't bear to disturb him, then, and the heat of him against you lulls you to sleep too.

#character: todoroki shouto #andie's writing #andie's ideas #shouto x reader #todoroki x reader

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e-vay · 7 months ago

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His Lucky Star

Awhile ago I asked for sonamy headcanons (and I’m always hungry for more!) and I received the most beautiful headcanon from @hedgethemaze and I just had to illustrate it!

Thank you @hedgethemaze for the opportunity to draw your short story 😊

You can read Hedge’s original headcanon below the cut:

Sonic and Amy’s favorite nighttime pastime is stargazing 🌙⭐🌠👀

Amy enjoys making out constellations and discovering new figures drawn in the sky and would occasionally make up stories with them – She knows Sonic finds this a bit childish, but appreciates that he doesn’t let it show and listens to her stories, instead (even participating once in a while, throwing in some action to keep them from being too daydream-y lol).

Sometimes, looking at the stars would remind Sonic of Starfall Islands – of cyber space – of Amy being at arm's length yet, an entire plane of existence out of his reach. The thought makes him reach for her hand as they lay on their backs on the grass, with a whole new appreciation for the feel of her hand nestled in his - Amy, aware of the gnawing memory, would shift her hand and intertwine their fingers, successfully chasing the memory away.

And some other times, she’d say those stories are just bedtime-story-practice to tell their 'future' child/children, only to tease him because there’s nothing as amusing to her as watching Sonic go from cool blue to cherry red live in record time 😆

About stargazing - it occurred to me that it could be more than likely for Sonamy to catch sight of a shooting star.

Well, I imagine Sonic would notice Amy staring at the shooting star in silence, knowingly waiting for her to say something but then the star disappears from view and he'd say "huh... kinda thought you were gonna wish something for a sec,"

Amy, realizing what he means, would jump a little on her spot next to him, they'd still be holding hands, but she scooches over and rests her head on his shoulder.

"Oh! Well, actually," she rubs her cheek on his shoulder and her grip on his hand tightens "I have everything I could wish for already."

Sonic notes she's got her eyes closed, now more interested in the warmth their bodies are sharing amidst the nightly breeze. Sonic blushes, hoping in vane she doesn't notice his body getting warmer at her statement.

"What about you? Don't you have any wishes?" Amy is genuinely curious (she can feel his awkwardness, so she doesn't tease him 'this time').

Sonic looks away, the hand that's not being held by Amy scratches a very reddish cheek, taking a deep breath to cool himself, "Nah..." the shyness quickly evaporating from his voice and he braves returning her gesture by, ever so slightly, snuggling against the top of her head. Leaving Starfall in the past, to focus on the present, Sonic's already made up his mind. "I'm good, Ames."

#my art #collaboration #hedgethemaze #sonamy #Sonic frontiers #Sonic the hedgehog #Amy rose #starfall islands #sth #sonic trash #stargazing

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mcrveilles · 11 days ago

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just this once // ln4

word count: 1.7k warnings: casual intimacy themes, secrecy and conflicts of loyalty, romantic tension and suggestive content includes: friends to lovers, fluff, best friends little sister, brothers best friend summary: what starts as a casual movie night between friends turns into a complicated mix of desire and tension

PART ONE - next part

You're sprawled out on Lando's couch, your bare feet propped up on the armrest as he flips through the latest additions to Netflix. The warm Monaco breeze drifts in through the balcony doors, but it does nothing to cool the tension in the room.

It was never supposed to feel like this—charged, unpredictable. Lando is your brother Max’s best friend, the guy you’d grown up around, teasing and tormenting in equal measure. Somewhere along the line, though, your banter had started to feel different.

“You’re impossible to entertain,” Lando teases you, tossing the remote onto the coffee table and starting Drive to Survive. Obviously giving up on finding something to watch and wanting to annoy you.

“That’s because you have the attention span of a goldfish,” you shoot back at him, a grin on your lips.

He rolls his eyes, but his gaze lingers on you just a second too long. These playful insults have been your routine for years, ever since Lando had turned into one of your friends as well, but now there was something simmering underneath, something that neither of you want to address—but also can’t really ignore.

It started a few nights ago at a party Max had hosted. You’d been halfway through your fourth drink when Lando had cornered you in the kitchen. “You ever wonder what it’d be like?” he’d asked, leaning ever so casually against the counter like he hadn’t just sent your pulse racing.

“Wonder about what?“

“Us,” he said, his voice low enough that no one else could hear. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

You’d laughed it off, obviously, calling him ridiculous. But the way his eyes had lingered told you he wasn’t joking.

Now, back on his couch, the question hung in the air, unspoken but palpable. You catch him sneaking another glance at you, his lips curving into a smirk when you do. “You really meant it, didn’t you?” you blurt out before you can stop herself.

“Meant what?” he asks, though the way his smirk deepens says he already knows.

“At Max’s party,” you say, sitting up a little straighter. “What you said about us.” Lando sets his drink down, turning to face you fully. “What if I did?” Your heart is racing.

“Lando, you’re my brother’s best friend. This—” You gesture between you two. “This isn’t a good idea. This shouldn’t even be on our minds.”

“Why not? Max doesn’t have to know.” His voice is teasing, but his eyes betray the intensity behind his words. “It’s just… curiosity, right? Just once. To get it out of our systems.” Your heart is pounding now. You want to laugh, to tell him he’s being completely ridiculous. But the way he’s looking at you—with heat and determination—makes your knees weak and your resolve waver.

You take a deep breath. “One time,” you finally say, but your voice is barely above a whisper.

Before you can even second-guess your words and decision, his lips are on yours, hot and insistent. Logic evaporates in the heat of the moment, your hands finding his curls, tangling in his hair as he pulls you closer.

A quiet sigh leaves your lips, against his. And it’s like a spark igniting a wildfire. Lando‘s hands slip from your face, trailing down to your waist and then your hips, pulling you closer until you’re practically sitting on his lap. Your fingers still in his hair, his curls slipping between them as your tilt your head to deepen the kiss even more.

The world outside ceases to exist. There's no Monaco skyline, no brother waiting for your response to his last text—just the feeling of Lando‘s lips, insistent and skilled, and the heat coursing through your body.

Lando breaks away just long enough to look at you, cheeks red and panting, “You have no idea how long I’ve thought about this,” he whispers, his voice husky.

Your mind starts racing, because you too have thought about this one too many times, but before you can respond, his lips are back on yours, hungrier this time. The kiss feels like he’s been holding himself back for years, like he has to make up for all the times he thought about kissing you but didn’t. His teeth graze your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from you and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a way that sends a shiver down your spine.

Your hands leave his hair, your fingertips sliding across his shoulders and arms to settle on his chest. The action makes him shiver and he groans softly as you draw circles with your fingers. While you’re still overthinking everything about this, Lando’s reaction sends a jolt of confidence through you.

“Baby,” Lando murmurs against your lips, trying to catch his breath. A term of endearment now, but usually used to tease you.

The mention of your nickname in relation to all of this, makes you pull back slightly, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you let your forehead rest against his. His eyes meet yours, dark and stormy and filled with something that looks a lot like longing.

“This insane, Lando,” you whisper, your fingers now tracing the outline of his jaw. Feeling light stubble in his skin.

“Yeah maybe,” his voice low and rough as he still tries to catch his own breath, “Insane, but it doesn’t feel wrong,”

And then Lando kisses you again. This time slower, more deliberate. His hands now starting to roam from your hips to under your shirt, feeling the skin on your back. You let yourself get lost in it, in him, your worries melting away as his lips leave yours and travel to your cheek and then find the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

He tries to pull you even closer, your legs settling on either side of his lap now. Letting you feel everything. You know there’s no going back now, how could you ever pretend you don’t know how this feels now? This isn’t just one kiss, this is everything they’ve been holding back, every stolen glance and lingering touch coming to a head.

Just as you pull his lips back onto yours, there’s a ring sounding through the apartment, followed by a knock on the door and Max‘s voice, “Dude, I’ve called like seven times. I’ve got the snacks and you’ve got the streaming set,”

Lando’s eyes widen, and your heart drops into your stomach. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whisper loudly, scooting off his lap and onto your feet. Your hands now flying up into your own hair to smooth it down.

“Shit,” Lando mutters, glancing toward the door and then back at you. “I forgot he was coming over to stream.”

“Well, don’t just sit there,” you hiss at him. “We need to get it together before he gets suspicious,“

Lando frantically grabs his hoodie off the couch, yanking it over his head to hide his mussed hair. You cross over to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to busy yourself and hope you don’t look as flushed as you feel.

Then Lando opens the door, Max steps in with his usual laid-back grin firmly in place. “Finally,” Max says, holding up the bag of snack. “What were you doing, hiding?”

“No, just… cleaning up,” Lando says, his tone just a tad too casual as he steps aside to close the door. Your brother looks past him and spots you leaning on the counter, sipping from your water. “Movie night, huh?”

“Yep,” you reply brightly, ever so grateful that your voice doesn’t betray you. “I fell asleep though.” You add, hoping it’ll explain the redness in your face.

Max laughs and walks over to grab a handful of popcorn from the bowl on the table. “Wow, you didn’t invite me? Rude.”

“You were busy with Petra earlier,” Lando answers quickly, shooting you a subtle look to make sure things between you are okay.

Max shrugs, “Fair enough.” He turns his attention back to you. “What did you guys watch?”

“Oh, um…” You blink, your mind drawing a blank for a moment. “Drive to Survive,” Lando interjects smoothly. “Can you believe she hasn’t seen the latest season yet?“

Your brother snorts, “You’re seriously watching yourself on TV now? That’s some next-level narcissism, mate.” It’s your turn to laugh now, thankful for the distraction. “It was his idea, not mine,” you tease, rolling your eyes playfully.

Max shakes his head and drops the bag of snacks onto the counter. “You two are weird. Alright, shall we get on with it?”

“Yeah, sure,” Lando answers with a nod, throwing a quick glance at you. “You okay here?”

“Yup, I’ll just finish the popcorn and crash on the couch until you’re done,” you say breezily, hoping your tone comes across as casual. Max doesn’t even think twice about it. “Cool. Don’t eat all of it.”

Lando hesitates for a fraction of a second before following Max toward the streaming setup in the spare room. As soon as the door shuts behind them, you let out a breath and sink onto the couch, your heart still pounding in your chest.

Your fingers brush over your lips, still warm from the kiss. You thought the sudden interruption might douse the heat between you and Lando, but if anything, it made the tension even worse. Your mind keeps replaying the way Lando had looked at you, the way his hands felt on your body.

From down the hall, you can hear the muffled sounds of their voices as the stream starts. “Alright, chat, let’s get this going,” You hear Lando say, his voice cheerful and animated, as if nothing had happened.

You let out a small, wry laugh. Of course, he can compartmentalize everything so easily. Meanwhile, you are sitting on his couch, replaying every second of what just happened like it was burned into your memory.

You tell yourself to let the moment pass. But something in the pit of your stomach tells you this isn’t just a fleeting lapse of judgement. Whatever this thing between you and Lando is, it’s dangerous.

And you aren’t sure you want to go back to the way it was before.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 x reader #jto

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illbegottenfaith · 17 days ago

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bad day - theo nott x reader

a visit from your boyfriend perks you up even on the most frustrating of days

a/n - my first theo nott fic! I’ve written for other fandom(s) so this was a nice change, hope you enjoy :

tropes/warnings - established relationship, a pet name here or there, nothing overwhelming, fluff, comfort, nothing 18+ but a brief alluding to it

word count - 1k

“Off.”

As a general rule of thumb, you were typically the clingier half of your relationship with Theo. There was something about the feel of his skin against yours and the way his touch grounded you that made you feel safe and cared for in ways you were still too embarrassed to express out loud. Theo was always happy to indulge, casually draping an arm across your shoulders and rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder.

However, like all rules, it came with its exception - particularly, when you were studying. You needed to focus on your work, and that wasn’t exactly possible with the delicious warmth of Theo pressed against your back or hip. For the most part, he stayed well away when you needed him to, but something about the adrenaline of Quidditch practice made him extra excitable. Which was how you found yourself pouring over a hellish Charms essay in the Slytherin common room late one night, when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your middle and a familiar weight rest in the crook of your neck.

“Theo, I mean it,” you whined as he slid into the seat next to yours, refusing to relinquish his hold on you, effortlessly dragging you onto his lap. Your irritation evaporated at the sight of his boyish blue eyes and his sloping smile. It was a problem, really, how you could never stay mad at him. Merlin knows his ego is bad enough as it is.

“Hey, doll.” His nose nudged yours and you finally relented, wrapping an arm around his neck as he kissed you. His face felt cool against your warm forehead, and he smelt pleasantly of some non-descript yet refreshing soap.

“My neck is killing me,” you mumbled against his lips as you broke apart. Theo leaned back to get a better look at your wan face, distractedly running a hand down your spine.

“Have you had dinner yet?”

“Yes,” you frowned, “with you. Remember?”

Theo stared at you blankly. “Y/N. I’ve been at Quidditch practice for the past four hours.”

“What are you talking about? We had dinner, then we came up to the common room, and it was, y’know, freezing, and I said I needed to buy more fleece-lined tights, and you started saying something about liking me best without any tights, but then those fifth-years started wrestling each other over that game of -“

“- Gobstones?”

“Exactly!”

“Babe, that was last Thursday.”

Your face fell. “…it was. Merlin.” Theo watched, amused, as you let out a string of curses under your breath as you flipped through your planner, scowling. “It’s this stupid Charms essay that’s doing me in. I haven’t had my head on straight all week. Remember when I wore my earmuffs to breakfast on Tuesday?”

“Mhm.”

“Made a proper arse of myself at 8 in the morning. And I genuinely thought I saw you just an hour ago. I don’t know what came over me.”

“I didn’t know I was so forgettable of a boyfriend,” Theo teased, as you buried your face into your hands.

“Stop. I feel awful enough already,” came your muffled voice. Laughing, he took your hands in his own, his features softening at the exhausted look on your face.

“Rough day, baby?” You groaned, burying your face into his chest as he wrapped his other arm around you. Before meeting Theo, you took pride in how fiercely independent you were. Even now, you were more than capable of handling your daily stresses just as well as the next guy, but you still had the tendency of being tightly wound more often than not, and sometimes it just felt nice to have someone hold you while you cried about how awful life was. No one could help you or get you to decompress the way Theo did.

“Rough week, more like,” you mumbled into his collarbone. He hummed sympathetically, hand still running up and down your spine.

“You didn’t say a word.”

“It could have been worse. I thought I’d just…you know. Deal.”

You could hear the amused lilt to his voice. “Deal?”

“Deal with it. On my own, I mean.”

His hold on you tightened a fraction. “Have dinner with me.”

“Didn’t you eat before practice?”

“Hm. Have supper with me.”

“Theo.”

“What?”

You sighed. You were never one to turn in an assignment late but, Merlin - he didn’t make things easy for you.

“I really need to get this essay done.”

“So you’ll get it done. After supper. I could take a look at it for you. Or your neck. Or both.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure, because a distraction is just what I need now. You don’t even take N.E.W.T level Charms.”

“So you find me distracting?”

You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek. “Let me put it this way. If I, um, ‘have supper’ with you now, this essay will not reach Flitwick’s desk by 10 am tomorrow.”

Theo didn't look too happy about anything you were saying. “So what do you want me to do?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Like any other guy, Theo could only sympathise for so long before he was bursting with advice or solutions. You glanced at the clock, getting the distinct impression that he was valiantly trying to stifle a yawn.

“Go, leave, shoo. Get some rest, read a book, start a fight with some fifth-years, I don’t know. I just need to bully myself into finishing this. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“But I don’t want to start a fight with some sticky-fingered Gobstones-playing fifth-years.”

Still, he reluctantly slid you off his lap, pressing a kiss to your forehead before briefly disappearing. He returned with a huge, ancient book whose weathered cover seemed somewhat related to Potions. He arched an eyebrow as you made a face at it.

“What’s that?”

“What’s that?” You shot back, looking greatly repulsed by the gnarly volume.

“Some light bedtime reading material,” he quipped. You watched his face nervously, the tell-tale signs of fatigue knitted into the creases of his achingly beautiful face.

“I mean it, Teddy. You really should go to bed.”

“Can’t. I’ve got a date in an hour.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. I’m taking this really pretty girl out for supper.”

You rolled your eyes as Theo settled into his seat, cracking the disfigured tome open.

“Smooth-talker.”

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott fluff

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moonstruckme · 8 months ago

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request for Remus x reader, or poly!marauders x reader - A reader who seems more dominant in everyday life (managing group projects, generally independent, being a leader, etc.) maybe she's an older sibling or has parents that aren't all that responsible so she's had to take on that role.

But she settles into a more submissive energy with her partner(s) because she feels safe to do so, and lets them take charge. sorry if that's too specific! I hope it makes sense

no stress if this isn't your jam <3

Soft dom Rem you will always be famous <3 Thanks for requesting lovely!

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 651 words

“No, yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” You flash your boyfriend a terse smile as you come in the door, phone held between your face and your shoulder. Remus steps forward to take your bag from you, and you mouth a thanks as you set down your keys. “That sounds like it would work fairly easily with my current plan, I wouldn’t mind incorporating that. No—of course—no worries, I appreciate your help.”

Remus starts to ease you out of your jacket, and it’s a struggle to keep from sighing at the casual care in his touch as you continue talking to the person on the other line. “Okay, are you free to meet on Thursday to finalize things?” You listen. Nod. “Perfect. I’ll get in contact with the others and figure out a time that works.”

Remus hangs your jacket over a chair and goes to sit on the couch, motioning for you to follow. You make a gesture for one second and take your planner from your bag, grabbing a pen and taking the cap off with your teeth. “So you definitely can’t do after four? No, that’s cool, I’m just making sure.” You scribble down a couple of time ranges. “I’ll get back to you with what the others say. Okay, thanks! Talk soon.”

You end the call with a sigh, leaving your planner faceup on the table so you’ll remember to call the others later. Remus waits until you’re looking at him before patting his thigh.

Something unravels in you as you walk over to him obediently, settling yourself in his lap.

“Hi,” you say, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder.

“Hi.” A bit of bemusement makes its way into Remus’ tone at your obvious relief. He rests a hand on the small of your back. “Long day, sweetheart?”

You hum. “Not bad. I just have this headache that won’t go away, so that made it feel longer.”

Remus tuts, his other hand coming up to cup the back of your head protectively. “Why’s that, hm?”

“Dunno,” you exhale, snuggling into him. “It’s getting better already, though.”

“Hm.” He sounds dissatisfied. A second later, he’s holding you securely to his back, tipping you both forward as he reaches for the coffee table. You hear ice clinking. “Drink this.”

Reluctantly, you take your face from his shoulder to accept the water bottle. It’s his, nearly full and ice cold. Remus strokes your hair as you sip from it, eyes soft with approval.

“That’s enough managing people for today,” he says, not unkindly. “You’ve already done most of the work, you can send a text and let them coordinate their own meeting time.”

You frown, taking your lips from the water bottle. “I would, but they’ll never actually respond if it’s in a group chat. Nobody replies if I don’t message them individually.”

“They’ll have to figure it out.” He shrugs insouciantly.

You feel your eyebrows pinch, another argument rising to your tongue, but it evaporates when Remus wraps a long-fingered hand around your jaw.

He tilts your chin up towards him. “They shouldn’t need you to take care of everything in order for it to get done,” he says sternly. “If they start calling you again tonight, I want you to send them to voicemail. Understand?”

“Yes,” you reply automatically, and Remus releases your chin as you sigh, letting you ignore the water bottle for a minute so you can fold yourself back into him.

“Good.” He turns his head into yours, kissing your temple. “You were never going to get rid of this headache if you let them keep pestering you all night, dove. They’re like flies.” You laugh a little, and Remus scratches at your scalp rewardingly. “You can text them in a little bit. Let’s just stay here for a minute, yeah? Try to get you relaxed.”

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theyluvkarolina · 4 months ago

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౨ৎ BETRAYAL ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ A day in the Leclerc home is never quiet. Cause of noise this day? Charles’s screams of horror when his boys don’t support Ferrari. And the biggest blow? They support Redbull and Mclaren (requested!)

PAIRING ౨ৎ Charles Leclerc x Wife!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ charles being dramatic, a short fic!! (i’m saying that it’s like a blurb kinda short but not a blurb lol so a imagine i think..?)

A/N ౨ৎ i will forever see charles as a girl dad 😞😞 but i’ll do this just for you anon

IN THE MORNING, Monaco is absolutely stunning. The sun coming up over the Mediterranean Sea gives the whole place an elegant and fancy atmosphere, the smell of freshly baked pastries from the cafes mixes with the sea breeze, people are out for a stroll along the promenade or at outdoor cafes with their morning coffee, or the yachts in the harbor accompanied by the beautiful architecture. It’s serene. Quiet.

Yet, the Leclerc household is never quiet. Even in the early hours of the mornings.

You gave a sigh before sipping the freshly brewed coffee you made while looking out the window of your apartment, taking in the sight resting your head on Charles’s shoulder, enjoying the tranquility while the twins and Noemié are still away for a while.

Charles wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoyed the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour.”

Charles wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer as you both enjoy the fleeting moment of calm. “Good morning, mon amour,” he murmurs softly, his lips brushing against your temple.

You turn your head slightly, giving him a small smile as your free hand slips up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Morning,” you reply, your voice soft and warm, taking in the serenity of the moment. “Did you sleep well?” You questioned, your eyes meeting his.

“As long as I’m next to you, I’ll be sleeping well every night I’m here.” Charles responded, his voice slightly raspy from just getting out of bed not too long ago.

The peaceful morning, however, takes a sudden turn when Charles's hand starts to roam, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. You chuckle, feeling the playful intent behind his touch. “Charles…” you warn, though there’s no real heat behind it. However, the moment soon evaporated by two familiar voices.

“Papa! Look at what Uncle Max and Lando gave us!” One of the boy’s voice carries with excitement, waving a Red Bull cap stitched with the number “1” on it.

The other, follows close behind, clutching a McLaren his own hat, but with no specific number. “And I got a Mclaren one!”

Charles raises an eyebrow, glancing between his two sons with a questioning expression.

Redbull? Mclaren? Pardon?

“Wait a minute, what’s this?” he asks, trying to keep his tone neutral despite the growing confusion.

Julien grins widely. “I’m a Red Bull fan, Papa! I want to be just like Max!” He holds up his Red Bull gear proudly.

Matteo, not to be outdone, puffs out his chest. “I like McLaren now!” He smiles, showing off his new McLaren gear.

Charles blinks, momentarily lost in thought. “But… but you both have been to the same races. You know Papa drives for Ferrari, right?”

Julien shrugged nonchalantly. “Yeah, but Max is really cool! He wins a lotta races! Not like you Papa.”.

Charles’s eyes widen, his mouth forming a perfect "O" as he processes the information. He puts a hand to his forehead, as if trying to stave off a sudden headache. “Wait, hold on. Are you telling me that my own sons have chosen to support… other teams..?”

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at his exaggerated disbelief. Julien and Matteo look up at him, each with a mix of pride and defiance in their eyes.

“Yes, Papa! Julien likes Red Bull, and I like McLaren!” Matteo insists, holding up his McLaren cap as if it were a trophy.

Charles’s dramatic reaction continues as he dramatically clasps his hands together in prayer, eyes wide with slight horror. “Mon dieu… my own boys… choosing teams that are my competitors… I think I just failed as a tifosi…”

You lean in to whisper to Charles, “Maybe they’re just testing your loyalty to Ferrari. Or they’ve picked their teams to give you a hard time.”

Charles shakes his head, still in slight despair over the situation. “I need to reconsider my parenting strategies. Perhaps I should start buying them Ferrari gear to remind them of their true team… I need to talk to Max, Lando and Oscar. They stole my own boys from me..”

You simply shake your head at his dramatics. “Oh please Charles, it’s not as if they are praying on your downfall. Besides Noemié I still a Ferrari fan, aren’t you mon chou?”

Noemié simply gave a hum in thought before formulating her response, “Hm… no. Ferrari sucks… I like Mercedes!”

That might have just been the final blow to Charles’s heart.

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gtgbabie0 · 4 months ago

Note

Helloo can I request a sweet smut with aegon x reader where they've been apart for some time due to work and when they come together they just want to be intimate with one another

-Aegon Targaryen x Wife!Reader

{Aegon’s patience has been wearing thin, he soon reaches a breaking point}

!!-18//MDNI-!! Sorry this took so long I simply cannot catch a break, enjoy my lovelies!! 💕

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Since the moment Aegon sat down on his council chair he wanted to leave, to abandon the whole damned meeting and let the fools figure it out for themselves. What was the point of even being there if they overlooked everything he said?— if they did not take him seriously?

It angered him beyond belief, the way they looked at him, the snide remarks that left a stupid pain in his chest no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He sits there bored and pissed off, spinning the marble against the wooden table as their words blend into one another making one big dull noise.

He feels silly, ignored, and he doesn’t enjoy it— so he leaves, slamming his fist onto the table so hard that it causes each of the council members to jump in their seats. The marble rolls off of the table, smashing onto the stone floor as the door shuts behind him with a loud thud.

Aegon bites the inside of his cheek, trying to cool his temper down before entering your bedchambers- the last thing he wanted to do was sour your day with his mood, but it doesn’t work he can’t seem to quell the frustration that coils around his already tense body.

It's your laugh. The sound of your laughter, light and merry calms him. It clashes so greatly with the heavy weight of his heart, with the turbulence in his mind. He stands there for a moment, just outside your shared bedchambers, his anger evaporating as he listens to the heavenly sound.

With a deep breath, he opens the door entering with a relieved sigh. His lilac eyes meet your own with a tender expression that softens his features, watching your dressers ready you for bed, taking your necklace and earrings off with great care.

“You’re dismissed… leave us.” Aegon commands, waving a dismissive hand to the two ladies. They both bow courtly before leaving the room with knowing smirks gracing their lips.

You stand there however with furrowed brows, tilting your head in confusion as he draws closer to you. “I’m still in my day clothes?” You state only receiving a chuckle in return.

“I’m aware.” He smirks, admiring the way the silk of your dress hugs your curves. It drives him to madness and he can’t help but grasp at your hips as he continues to drink in the sight of you. "You don't need your dressers to get you ready for bed... I can take care of that for you."

The realisation hits all so suddenly, taking your breath away and the only response you can give him is a small ‘Oh’ which only makes him chuckle once more against the soft skin of your shoulder.

It had been far too long since he had taken you, all the interrupted moments and the long busy days had caused a searing ache between your thighs that you had tried to sate with your fingers, but nothing could compare to Aegon— he knew you like the back of his hand, he filled the spaces you couldn’t.

“What has spurred this one?” You ask, tone hushed and breathless as he leaves a trail of warm kisses along your neck and the dip of your shoulder. It wasn’t a complaint, far from it, you just wanted to know whether or not he burned for you the way you did for him.

And gods did he. Aegon's fingers work at the laces of your dress with practised ease, his touch feather-light and yet exhilarating. He watches you through the reflection of the mirror, the way the silk of your dress ripples down your body like a waterfall until it pools around your feet leaving you vulnerable to him.

“Do I need an excuse to want to touch you like this?” He whispers, lips grazing against the curve of your jaw. It’s all so dizzying in such an embarrassing way.

You lean back against him, enjoying the way his fingers trace along your waist causing your skin to break out in gooseflesh. He mumbles something about how ‘sensitive you are’ into the crook of your neck and you can feel the smirk that teeters on his lips when a breathless moan escapes you.

“No of course not— I’ve missed you.” You sigh, leaning your head to expose more of your neck to him as your fingers find his hair.

He nuzzles his nose against the underside of your jaw, humming in contentment as your sweet flowery scent surrounds him. “I’ve missed you— so much.” He breathes.

Aegon cups your jaw, tilting your head slightly to the side so he can kiss you. So slow and yet full of passion that has only been building up for the past few weeks. He groans into your eager mouth the taste of your tongue against his own going straight to his cock.

His arms wrap around your midsection, pulling you closer to him. He press his growing erection against the curve of your ass and he can’t help but rut against you slightly. He was more pent up than he realised.

He breaks the messy kiss momentarily, his breath warm against your skin. "You taste... incredible..." he whispers, his voice a low rumble, before kissing you once again.

“The wine perhaps.” The words are hushed through a small giggle. Once again his lips find yours, not breaking as you turn around in his embrace, one of his hands reaching up to caress your warm cheek.

"No," he murmurs, pulling back to admire you with a hungry look and a lazy grin. "It's not the wine." He leans back in. "It's... you," the kiss is much greedier, and his hands trace a path down your spine, resting against the small of your back, drawing you closer to his body.

You gasp, hands flying to grab his forearms as he suddenly begins to guide you backwards over to your shared bed. The backs of your knees hit the mattress as you collide with the softness of the bedsheets, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Where did your manners go?” You tease him lightly, propping yourself up on your elbows, watching him with desire in your eyes as he lifts his tunic over his head, discarding it on the floor somewhere.

He smirks, leaning over you, trailing his lips along your collarbones— a clash of teeth and tongue. His hips lay flush over your own as he slowly grinds himself down onto you, relishing in the sweet sounds that you make.

"My manners?" he murmurs against your chest, his eyes meeting your own with a glint of playfulness flashes through them. "They flew out the window the moment I took that dress off of you."

His gaze roams over your body, drinking in the sight of you laid out beneath him bare— hips writhing desperately. You gasp against the pillows as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue flicking over the hardened peak whilst his other hand cups your unattended breast, thumbing over the nub.

“Aegon— please.” The words are a struggle to get out as he’s rendered you completely breathless, but the way your hips lift up to try and press against his, desperate for attention, tells him everything he needs to know.

He hums in understanding, leaving a trail of kisses along your breasts. “I’ll get there, my love… I’ll get there.” He coos softly, his hand falling to your restless hips as his thumb rubs over the curve and dips whilst his mouth ravishes your chest in wet kisses and small licks.

Aegon slips his hand in between your thighs, watching your face intently as his fingers part your slick folds, running along the sensitive flesh before catching your clit, rubbing slow circles over the bud. He’s completely taken with the way you arch up into his touch, how your lips part, the sounds you make. All of it— all of you—causes his cock to throb.

You mewl, hips bucking against his hand as he pushes two fingers inside you, curling them. “Mhm… you’re so beautiful with my fingers buried in your cunt,” He smirks, enjoying the fact he isn’t the only one who has been pent up. “So wet…” the words are muffled against your lips, your slickness coating his digits.

You brush your fingers through his hair, pulling him into a kiss as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Your free hand works deftly to unlace his breeches, the fabric falls mid-thigh letting his cock spring free, begging for attention.

Aegon hisses sharply into your ear, burying his face against your shoulder as your hand wraps around his length. “I want your cock inside me, please…” you beg him, voice strained with pleasure. The deep desire to feel him as close to you as humanly possible completely drowns out everything else in your mind, your thoughts now are only of him.

He nods his head in compliance, not having the strength the refrain himself any longer than he already has. Sliding his fingers out of your cunt, he coats your slickness around the tip of his thick shaft, the feeling sends a tingle down his spine, his skin hot to the touch.

Aegon swats your hand away gently as he guides the head of his cock between your folds, nudging the tip against your clit over and over again basking in the way his name sounds coming from you all whiny, laced with such wanton passion.

He groans as he lines himself up to your entrance before sinking into you slowly, whispering soft lovely words of encouragement against your jaw. The way you take him with ease, how your slick walls clamp around him it’s all so maddening— so mind-numbing and all he can do is huff and moan against your skin.

The stretch of him is so achingly good, the drag of his cock along your walls as he thrusts his hips against your own sends a searing heat through your abdomen. Aegon mutters on about how ‘good you feel’ and how ‘well you take him’ like some sort of crazed man, completely drunk off of your body.

His movements soon become sloppy, trying so hard to keep himself from spilling too early but the sounds of wet flesh and your moans coupled with the way your cunt squeezes around him makes it nearly impossible as he teeters closer to the edge.

“Fuck— I can’t— it’s been too long I— I won’t last.” He whimpers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. His hands pin your hips down to the bedsheets as he continues to fuck himself into you, moaning hotly against your flushed skin as you wrap your thighs around his waist to hold him closer.

“I- I’m close… don’t worry.” You reassure him, your hand grasping at his white hair. The tightness deep inside him eventually snaps, spilling his warm seed inside you with a broken cry of pleasure, panting and whining into the crook of your neck as apologies fly from his lips. You grab his face, kissing him greedily as you come around cock, milking him practically dry.

The pair of you go boneless against the comfort of the pillows, catching your breaths with dazed expressions. Aegon’s fingers trace a soothing line along your spine as you instinctively seek out the warmth of his arms.

“Sorry-” He rasps with a lazy grin, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your cheek. "It's been too long"

“Mm… don't apologise, we'll never go that long apart again.” You reply earning a weak nod and a hum of agreement from him. You rest your cheek against his chest, allowing the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm your own erratic one.

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feeder86 · 3 months ago

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Maxed Out!

Those few seconds were pure heaven. Josh’s jaw dropped when he saw his new neighbor step out of his truck and start strutting a little way up the path towards his front door. Out from the corner of his curtains, he gasped at the man’s beautiful face and imposingly strong body; his t-shirt fitting impeccably well, the biceps on full show and the delicious pecs thrusting themselves forwards. Never in his life had he seen a man he had admired quite so much. But then the guy turned, giving Josh a great shot of his tight, muscular glutes and strong thighs on full display in only a pair of tight gym shorts. He was going back to the truck, the passenger door opening where a guy was just getting out as well. Like a gentleman, he went straight to him, took his hand and eased him out.

That was when the moments of bliss ended. Just as Josh was getting over the disappointment that his hunky, new gay neighbor was not single, the image of his boyfriend made his breath catch in his throat. It was a face he hadn’t seen in almost ten years and had dearly hoped he would never see again. He could feel his heart racing and his eyes bulging. It couldn’t be! Nathan? The guy who had made Josh’s high school existence an absolute misery. Fuck! Was he going to be moving in right next door? Josh wouldn’t be able to cope with that. Surely he wasn’t such a bad person that he would be deserving of this?

As if to rub salt in the wound, the beautiful, new, incredibly tall guy stooped down to kiss Nathan on the lips and he wrapped his strapping arm over his shoulders, both of them gazing upon the house they had just purchased. In his shock, Josh hadn’t realised that he had strayed out from behind the curtain, only noticing how exposed he was when the new guy caught his stare and smiled at him, waving politely at Josh through his window.

Instinctively, Josh threw himself back, filled with embarrassment. He couldn’t let Nathan see him. No way! Everything he had done in life seemed to evaporate: his successful career, his weight loss. He was reduced to being that shy, overweight, 280lbs eighteen year old boy no-one wanted to be friends with.

Josh swallowed. He really had come a long way since those days. Back then, he had been timid and unsure of himself at the all-boys school he attended with Nathan. He hadn’t been able to make friends quite like Nathan could, seemingly effortlessly. And, despite the fact that they were both out about their sexualities, it was only ever Josh who was made fun of for it; alongside his large, round belly and broad, dimpled, under exercised butt. In fact, rather bizarrely, the abuse was usually instigated by Nathan himself, who wanted to position himself as the cool, sporty and fun gay guy of the year group, doing his best to ensure that any homophobic bullying was sent Josh’s way instead. The tactic worked flawlessly.

Since then, Josh had fully embraced his sexuality and now maintained his low weight for over two years. College had been awesome and everyone in the neighborhood loved him here. So why hide out and pretend that he didn’t have the courage to face his old demons head on? Without even registering what his body was doing, Josh found his feet were suddenly leading him out of the door. It was, once again, that ridiculous side of himself, so desperate to please; the part of him that had made him such a target in high school; that made him open his own front door and smile at them both warmly in greeting,

“Hello!” he sang, wanting so desperately to speak only to the new guy, yet unable to tear his eyes from Nathan as the boy visibly grimaced in recognition of Josh. “Congratulations on the new house!” he smiled, hearing a slight crack in his voice.

As if sensing his lover’s disdain, the handsome, new guy looked down at his boyfriend in amusement. Nathan was being rude, and he knew it, so he unhooked his arm from his shoulder and strolled across the grass to shake Josh’s hand alone. “Nice to meet you,” he smiled in a deep, charming tone that sent a spark of lust through Josh’s whole body. “My name is Max,” he explained, turning back to his boyfriend and pondering. “But something tells me you two already know each other already…” he grinned, as if this scenario was all quite funny to him.

“Yes!” Josh tried to smile; his heart beating a mile a minute and feeling like his whole body had been transported back ten years as he was staring into the eyes of his bully, desperate to get away unharmed. “We were in school together,” he nodded, noticing for the first time that Nathan wasn’t quite as slim as he had been back then. His stomach was slightly thicker, as were his thighs and chest. He had a slight puddle of fat under his chin that should have given Josh confidence, considering all the weight he himself had lost in the last two years to become the slim, healthy-looking, pretty boy at long last. But… it didn’t. Despite being in the best shape of his life, Josh still felt like the fat boy Nathan used to target every day. “It’s lovely to see you again, Nathan!” he tried.

Nathan scowled and huffed. “Sure. You too,” he spat insincerely, averting his eyes back to Max straight away. “Honey, could you get my box from the back of the truck?”he asked.

Max sighed, playfully rolling his eyes at Josh. “Sure thing, Honey,” he called back, ripping off his t-shirt to reveal the incredible, muscular physique underneath as he prepared to set to work unloading.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Josh asked them both, like a glutton for punishment. All he really wanted to do was to get inside and hide away.

Max seemed to look him over; his thin physique and 150lb frame, dressed smartly in a well ironed shirt. “No,” he replied, assessing Josh to be fairly useless for the physical moving and carrying that would be his chore for the next hour. “I’ll be fine,” he smiled, giving him a charming wink.

Nathan waited until Max was out of earshot. It was a tactic Josh remembered well, already bracing himself. “You can stop looking at Max like that,” he grunted at him. “We’re not friends,” he hissed. “You were a prissy little no-body in school and…” he continued, eyeing up and evaluating Josh’s well maintained and impeccably manicured front yard, “...you’re clearly just the same now.”

“Nathan, this is silly…” Josh tried once more, summoning all his resolve. “We’re grown adults.”

“You think because you’ve lost a few pounds I’m going to let you be friends with me?” he laughed, always keeping an eye that Max wasn’t listening. “Go home, Josh. And stay there.”

Reeling, Josh did indeed go inside, cursing himself; imagining what a fool he had made coming out to greet them like that. Why did he have to give Nathan the satisfaction of even trying to be nice to him? Why couldn’t he accept that the guy would never tolerate him?

The teenager inside of Josh made a grab for control. He opened the cupboards and started whipping up a batch of cookie dough. He ripped open the ice cream and began spooning it into his mouth, knowing that food had been the only true comfort for him back in those dark days of high school. He would have been that way all night, gorging himself, had Kelly from next door not stopped by, knocking on the back door and seeing the mess in the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re making your famous oatmeal cookies for the new neighbors?” she’d assumed, full of smiles.

Josh nodded, pleased that a plausible excuse had just fallen so easily into his lap. Of course it had been Kelly who had been one of the first to introduce herself to the new couple next door. The woman thrived on the suburban gossip and would actively make it her mission to get around everyone on the street, sharing what she had gleaned from the fresh arrivals.

“They’re such a lovely couple, aren’t they?” Kelly went on. “Nathan works from home, y’know? His family owns a big share in the haulage company over by the docks. That’s probably how he landed a guy like Max! He’s so handsome, isn’t he?” she swooned. “I bet the family are rolling in it!”

Such a thought had crossed Josh’s mind too. Sure, Nathan had always been a good-looking guy, but he wasn’t as slender, nor as athletic as he had once been. Even to the untrained eye, Max seemed more than a little out of his league these days. Then again, Max seemed to be doing pretty well all by himself; his own sizable construction business’ name printed down the side of the two trucks they now had on the driveway. What reason would he have for settling for a slightly chubby guy from a wealthy family when he was clearly already doing well for himself already?

“I think they’re going to fit right in here,” Kelly nodded. “Nathan’s even coming with us to yoga class on Wednesday!”

Josh’s heart sank. He loved that yoga class, but there was no way he was going if Nathan was there as well. Already the spiteful boy was making a move on all his friends. He considered telling Kelly everything he knew about the real Nathan; their shared history and the bullying. But then everyone would know what a loser he had been back in high school. News like that had a way of spreading like wildfire, twisting and evolving as it passed from person to person. Could Josh handle that? More than ever, he wanted to leave his high school days in the past. Acting as if he didn’t know Nathan seemed like the best thing to do; especially if he didn’t want to be the source of neighborhood gossip.

“They smell great!” Max smiled, looking genuinely delighted at the large container of oatmeal cookies Josh had felt compelled to deliver to him after promising Kelly that he would. He’d hidden behind his curtains for nearly twenty minutes until he was sure that Nathan was inside the house, leaving Max alone in the front yard to unpack the last few boxes for the evening.

“It’s something of a tradition for me to make them when a new neighbor arrives,” Josh smiled meekly, still checking the porch to ensure that Nathan wasn’t about to reappear.

“Yes,” Max smiled back at him. “I’ve already heard about your excellent baking!” he offered charmingly. Clearly Kelly had spent quite some time telling him about all the neighbors. “Nathan is going to love these. He has quite the sweet tooth, y’know?”

Josh tried to smile back, but just the mention of Nathan’s name was enough to start making him feel as sick as he had back in high school. “Well, make sure you get to taste some as well,” he replied quietly. Back before Josh had gone on his weight loss journey, the recipe he had followed had been his absolute favorite. The cookies were far too nice for the likes of Nathan!

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare!” Max joked. “Nathan is quite the glutton when he gets something sugary!” He looked sideways to check that his boyfriend wasn’t about. “It’s the reason why his ass is a lot wider than you probably remember it in high school!” he chuckled, theatrically masking one side of his mouth so that no one could read his lips.

Josh laughed, taking to Max straight away. Nathan had always been highly strung and awkward, but this guy was as relaxed and as wicked as they came. According to Kelly, they had only been together a few months. Max was the sort of level-headed man who would soon see through Nathan’s false facade. He had the air of a charming bad boy about him; someone who was rarely bettered in a battle of wits.

“Nathan’s always been a very handsome guy,” Josh conceded, not wanting to implicate himself in anything that could be considered unkind in front of Max.

“Oh, yeah, for sure!” Max smiled, nodding in full agreement. “But even handsome guys can overeat…“ he smirked. “Trust me, I doubt any of these cookies will ever see daylight again!”

Josh smiled politely and walked back to his house, his mind whirring away. Nathan would have to be very silly to let his appetite get the better of him and lose a man like Max. Josh had never imagined his old high school bully would get even a little chubby, yet there was no denying that Nathan was starting to let himself go a bit. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. The faster Max got fed up with Nathan’s expanding waistline, the sooner they could all be rid of him - for good!

The following week, Josh’s heart leapt with joy as he saw Max returning home with a full tray of doughnuts. He grinned. offering a silent prayer that Nathan would gorge on the lot and struggle to fit in his pants the next day. Despite the outward appearance of order and harmony within Max and Nathan’s house, it seemed obvious to Josh that the pair’s home must still be upside down after the big move. Why else would Max have come hom with take out every night that week, if not for that? Inside his head, Josh was adding up all the calories and just imagining what impact they may have on nasty old Nathan. Back when Josh was with his ex, he’d been verbally mocked for even looking at foods like that when he still had weight to lose. Yet, there was Max fetching and carrying it all in for him as if he had no idea how much foods like those could influence a guy’s weight when he didn’t work a manual job, like himself.

After skipping yoga for a couple weeks, Josh sensed the other ladies on the street starting to treat him a little differently; their husbands soon following suit. Perhaps it was the obvious extra pounds he was starting to carry on his stomach once more. His tummy had swollen and softened as he consoled himself with his own baking after each intimidating stare from Nathan every time he was unfortunate enough to see him outside. The others on the street were short and impatient, moving away from him as quickly as they could. There were scowls and forgotten invitations to backyard barbecues; clear signs that something was going dramatically wrong. It was happening all over again, just like last time. Nathan had spread his vicious lies and set Josh well within his sights. Josh could just imagine the guy’s smug, satisfied face after each made-up rumour he would tell. Now the neighbors huddled together with Nathan; their backs turned to Josh; an impenetrable wall. Josh watched on, filled with hopelessness, whilst being periodically glanced over at as they continued to discuss him; the outsider.

It was all too much. Josh felt like he had built up a life for himself, only for Nathan to come along and knock it all down. Pretty soon it was only the hapless Max who ever had a friendly smile for him. The ice cream, the cookies, the chocolate, they all called out to him when he came in feeling glum; Josh’s healthy eating regime shattering into a million pieces.

Clothes were tightening, the extra pounds spreading, and a reinflation of Josh’s previously toned body was a seemingly unstoppable process. His butt had always taken the brunt whenever his diet had failed him, but the build up of pure fat felt so much more extreme this time. Josh avoided the mirror, stuck to his loosest fitting outfits and attempted to ride out the winter, assuring himself that all would come right again, once the darkness ended.

It was Spring when Max was cutting the grass in his front yard. With his shirt off, Josh suspected that he wasn’t the only one on the street twitching at the curtains. Even the oldest residents could attest to the fact that there had never been such a handsome, masculine presence on this street. Not that Josh could ever hope to have a man like that now. He’d piled on so much weight over the winter months. He’d felt it all sliding back onto his body, invading his stomach and chest once more. His old t-shirts had come out of the attic, his former pants and jeans. He could feel it under his chin, bloating up his face, jiggling in his love handles and swelling up his butt; 45lbs of pure lard, developed from months of comfort eating due to the quiet isolation he now felt. Dating was out of the question; at least not until he got a grip of himself again. But when would that be?

Max was cleaning the blades of the mower when his miserable boyfriend came trotting out carrying a cool glass of lemonade for him. Wearing loose, unflattering sweatpants, Nathan hovered above his crouching man as if he was utterly oblivious as to how gigantic his butt looked. Winter had been hard on him as well it seemed, Josh smiled. It was completely transformative! Rather than being a little over-padded, Nathan’s butt and love handles had swollen to a width that would make jaws drop. This was a fat boy, without a doubt, having piled on even more than Josh himself. It wasn’t even as if he had become more shapely or especially masculine, but more like a hose had been inserted into his rear and pure blubber pumped in as much as he could take.

Max’s face lit up upon seeing his boy, rising to his feet, strapping his hands onto that big butt and pulling him in for a kiss. He seemed to revolve Nathan slightly so that his hefty rear could be seen even by those living across the street; the guy’s strong hands genuinely appearing to revel in the size of those lardy glutes.

Nathan laughed and patted the horny boy away, trotting back into the house and inadvertently giving Josh a better look at the rest of his body: that double chin, the puffy arms, the rounded tummy, the larger mounded chest. Just what had the boy been eating whilst he worked from home all these months? He had completely ballooned!

Josh’s attention turned back onto Max: a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watched Nathan disappear from view. It had been him, Josh realised, as the handsome boy chuckled to himself and crouched back down to clean the lawnmower blades. Barely a night had gone by when Josh hadn’t caught sight of him carrying something tasty in for his lover after a long day at work. He’d enabled it all. Hell, he might as well have had his name tattooed on that oversized rump of Nathan’s. Yet… he was still attracted to the awful boy. What sort of a guy put up with a weight gain like that? Certainly not any of the ones Josh had ever dated; constantly criticising his appearance and making him feel unworthy of their love, he thought bitterly to himself. Yet, there was the completely undeserving Nathan, likely far exceeding 240lbs, and still actively garnering the attention of a man like Max.

There was no such thing as karma. Life wasn’t fair. People never really got what they deserved. Some guys were just born lucky.

It had been a slip at work that had done it. Josh was laid up on his couch resting his broken ankle and feeling more than a little sorry for himself that May. Whilst he enjoyed the freedom of being single, living alone was not always easy when things weren’t going great. Two weeks into the healing process and already the house looked a mess. He was existing off microwave meals, working from home and moving as little as possible, just as the doctor had ordered. He thought of all the times he had been there to help others on the street when bad luck had befallen them; yet no one had called round to check on him. With his parents gone and brother living so far away, Josh had never felt so isolated in his life. That was, until a large shadow crossed his window as the figure of Max could be seen in his front yard, mowing the grass for him.

Josh hobbled to the front door and caught his attention, thanking Max for coming to help even when he had not asked. His yard had never looked like such a mess; the beautiful flowers he looked forward to each summer going unnoticed, hidden behind an unruly forest of weeds and grass.

“Nathan’s away at a friend’s this weekend,” Max explained. “I’ve not got much to do anyway,” he shrugged.

Josh nodded, wondering whether even Max would dare to help him had Nathan been at home. Although he often caught the man in the front yard and exchanged a few simple, friendly words, he had always been keen to keep his guard up. He knew that, as a couple, Nathan would have spoken to him about why he didn’t like Josh. Perhaps they laughed about him behind his back. He could easily imagine that.

“Is there anything else I can do for you whilst I’m here?” Max asked kindly,letting himself in later that afternoon and stepping into Josh’s living area as he tried to get himself upright to greet the strapping man properly.

“No, you’ve already done so much! You’ve been a lifesaver!” Josh smiled. He looked down at his cast, wishing it away so that his life could get back to normal and not rely on others like he was having to right now. “What can I do to thank you?”

Max scratched his head in thought. “Maybe, when you’re better, you could make another batch of those cookies for Nathan?” he considered. “He guzzled the last batch down in no time at all,” he laughed, not hiding an element of mockery within.

Josh paused for a moment, unsure whether there was some sort of punchline coming from Max’s strange humor about his boyfriend’s appetite. “Sure,” he nodded at last. “I can do that.”

“Thanks,” Max smiled, dropping his head slightly and starting to shuffle out. But then he paused, turning back. “This must be pretty nice for you, huh?” he asked. “Nathan was such a bastard to you for being fat in high school, and now he’s the one carrying around all that extra weight? I imagine you feel pretty smug each time you see him?”

Josh stared at him. What sort of a question was that? He started to mumble a reply, realising that he didn’t even know what he was supposed to say. “Well, I’m hardly one to judge,” he finally replied softly. He hadn’t expected anyone to see him that day and his fat stomach wasn’t hidden in the slightest by the old, tight band t-shirt he’d slipped on earlier.

“Go on, admit it!” Max smirked. “You hate his guts!”

Again, Josh struggled to find words. “I wouldn’t say I hated him,” he lied.

“Why not?” Max asked. “He hates you. Loathes you, in fact! You should hear some of the things he’s been going around telling the neighbors.”

Josh frowned. “What’s he been saying?" he asked, immediately outraged. He took a breath, realising that he’d actually rather not know. He couldn’t say he’d ever really understood Max’s boyish humor, but his motives for saying these things eluded Josh. It was almost as if he enjoyed all the drama. “Okay…” he sighed, defeated.

“So, how do you feel about him?” Max pressed, not letting this go.

Not knowing what else to do, Josh shrugged and relented. “Fine. I don’t like him. Okay?“

Grinning with triumph, Max nodded with delight. “Good,” he smirked. “Make sure you channel that when you’re making him those cookies then: a little extra butter here, more sugar in there. Think of all the mean fat jokes he ever made about you,” he stated pointedly. “Make the greedy little piggy pay…”

Afterwards, Josh felt like he had slipped into a strange, alternative reality. Guys didn’t talk like that about their boyfriends; so why had Max spoken about Nathan like he was trying to stir up an old vendetta? Had they argued before he’d gone away that weekend? Was all not as it seemed next door? The whole thing could have been the start of a very scandalous neighborhood discussion had Josh been the type to share with the gossips. Not that anyone was really talking to him right now. As it was, Josh simply pondered it alone, slowly making up a batch of the cookies as Max had asked.

That Sunday, Josh yelled to Max as he headed out to pick Nathan up from the airport. He hobbled back into the kitchen, fetching the container of cookies so that he could hand them to him. The strapping man was waiting in his hallway expectantly, dressed in a smart shirt as if he was going to take Nathan straight out for dinner afterwards. His aftershave smelt enticing and the man’s eyes lit up when he saw the container so filled with cookies. He seemed genuinely thrilled to hold it in his hands.

“I hope there’s plenty of butter in these?” he asked seriously, studying the rise as if he knew what to look for.

Josh nodded, suddenly feeling under scrutiny. “You can look at the recipe,” he replied, unsure why he was so keen to please, even in this bizarre situation.

“That’s alright,” Max chuckled. “I trust you,” he whispered with a wink. “We’ve got his sister’s wedding coming up this month and I want him looking fat as fuck beforehand! He bought a suit for it months ago but… I have a funny feeling it won’t be fitting so well,” he smirked wickedly.

Max turned to leave.

“Do you…” Josh tried to ask, feeling uncomfortable with the way things were going down. “It’s just… I find it so strange. Do you not like Nathan, or something?”

Max looked like he wanted to laugh as he turned around to hold eye contact with Josh once more. “Of course I don’t!” he blasted. “Who the hell could actually like Nathan? Only absolute morons! You and I both know better than most… Nathan is not a good person.”

Whatever answer Josh had been anticipating, that had not been it.

“Then… Why are you with him?” he asked slowly, as if this was all too complicated for his brain; like he had missed some crucial detail that would tie it all together.

Max checked his watch and shrugged, no longer caring if he was going to be a little late to pick Nathan up. “I’m playing the long game,” he sighed. “Nathan and his family have been throwing their weight around for far too long in this town.” He looked at Josh as if he knew him far better than even he could realise. “Nathan’s father fired my dad when he questioned him about his business affairs; framed him for some corrupt dealings; gave my mom a nervous breakdown. We lost everything. Dad went to prison. I grew up in a trailer park with my grandparents.”

“That’s awful!” Josh tried to sympathise.

“It is what it is,” Max shrugged. “I can’t change the past.” He leaned against the wall, sighing with sadness. “I’m not the type to let bullies get away with things. But that attitude got me in so many fights back in high school, let me tell you!” he chuckled, almost with nostalgia.

Josh admired his fine, muscular body once more. Of course Max could handle himself. He was so built and tall, he wouldn’t need to take shit from anyone.

“I’ve come across many awful people in my time. Nathan is by far the worst of them all. He dated one of my best friends for almost a year. He had him working to the bone to please him, all the while fucking some guy who lived in their apartment building. He ran up a huge debt in my friend’s name, fleeced a ton of cash off him and walked away with the keys to their apartment. My buddy wrapped his car around a tree and only just escaped with his life. I saw it happening all over again, the whole cycle of cruelty that family is so good at. Only this time, I wasn’t too small to do anything about it.”

Josh nodded sympathetically. None of what he had heard surprised him, but it felt good to listen to someone else highlighting what a piece of work the woman actually was. “But, how?” he asked, still not understanding Max’s plan. “You can’t just be trying to fatten him up so that no one else will have him?” In Josh’s head, it didn’t compute. He couldn’t make the leap from the trauma of the past into the incredibly surreal present day situation going on next door.

“I sure can!” Max chuckled. “He’s a greedy boy. I spotted it in him straight away. It was always bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just speeding the process along…” He could see how sceptical Josh looked. “You know the real Nathan better than most people. He’s not charismatic, especially intelligent, or in any way kind. He’s just a pretty boy from a wealthy family. And he’s played those two cards his entire life, no matter the damage he leaves in his wake. I could tell you so much more about the things he’s done.”

“But that doesn’t mean you should…” Josh tried, hardly bringing himself to say it again “...fatten him up.” He knew, in some bizarre way, that he was possibly the only person Max had confided all of this in.

“Nathan was the one who put the drugs in your brother’s locker in high school, y’know,” Max jumped in. “He did it to spite you because you dared to talk back to him one day. He actually laughed about it when he was telling me how your brother got kicked out of school and your folks shipped him off to some military academy.”

Josh recoiled, knowing the exact and only moment he had dared talk back to Nathan in high school, now realising the devastating consequences it had had. He’d never suspected Nathan capable of planting the drugs back then. Not ever. But it was the reason Josh’s brother had gone into the army afterwards; why he had ended up stepping on that landmine.

“Nathan saw him in his wheelchair when he came here during the holidays,” Max went on. “He didn’t flinch. He didn’t even care.”

“Well, I guess he couldn’t possibly have known…” Josh tried to reason.

“Josh! When are you going to stop letting people push you around?” Max blasted, losing patience with him. “When are you actually going to stand up for yourself? Nathan has been ruining your life for years now and you’ve done absolutely nothing to try and stop him!”

Josh lowered his head. He’d always been such a timid creature, so desperate to please. But Max was right: Nathan was bad to the bone. He couldn’t find the strength to do anything about that in high school, but maybe now he could. “It’s not just the weight gain you’re using to get back at him, is it?” he asked, sensing now how sharp and clever the man before him was; ten steps ahead of everyone else, playing a game none of them even suspected.

Max nodded. “The weight gain is just…karma,” he smirked. “You don’t need to know the rest,” he stated seriously. “Keep your friends close and your enemies…” he rambled ominously. “I want to bring the whole lot of them down. That entire, rotten, corrupt family.”

“I believe you,” Josh smiled, viewing Max as the guardian angel he had always longed for. “I think, If anyone can do this, you can.”

The pair smiled at each other, understanding one another at last.

“I’ll make you some more cookies and treats,” Josh finally sighed. “I’m not saying I necessarily agree with that particular method of how you’re trying to get him back, but…I guess I’m willing to help in any small way I can,” he offered, hardly believing that the words were coming out of his mouth.

Max’s eyebrows rose up high and he chuckled in surprise. “Josh, Josh, Josh…” he tutted mockingly. “Are you serious? Or are you just saying this because you’re upset about everything I just told you?”

Josh swallowed. Max was a knight in shining armour, ready to save him from the most vile creature on Earth. Finally, there was someone willing to take Nathan on. If only he had had an ally like him back in high school. “I’m going to help you,” he stated calmly. “Just tell me what I need to do.”

Once his foot was out of the cast two weeks later, Josh settled to his side of the bargain with enthusiasm. There were so many recipes he hadn’t tried in years given that he’d been losing weight. Now he was getting to have a go at them all, quietly helping his cunning neighbor get his own back on the man he was pretending to be in love with. Max would accept the treats and repackage them so that Nathan would have no idea they were especially baked for him from just next door.

“How was the wedding?” Josh asked Max as he came over to collect the cream cakes Josh had promised him before they left the previous weekend.

Max smirked wickedly, standing just inside the doorway. He had the musk of a strong, capable man after a hard day’s work, a scent which never failed to make every part of Josh tingle. “Awesome!” he nodded in delight. “Just as I predicted, Nathan couldn’t squeeze into his suit properly. He got himself so drunk on champagne that he fell over onto his huge ass for everyone to see, tearing the pants all the way through to the crotch!”

“Oh, I wish I could have seen that!” Josh chuckled, allowing more and more of his wicked side to emerge the longer he had been supporting Max.

“Here,” Max offered, pulling out his cell phone and showing Josh a picture of the tear. He leaned in closer; his strong arm holding the phone up in front of Josh’s face. It was the sort of closeness Josh looked forward to most of all. “His father was furious with him!” Max added, delighted with himself.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Josh smiled.

“So these are the cream cakes you promised, huh?” Max asked, taking the box from Josh. “Beautiful presentation, as always!” he winked.

Josh blushed a little. “Well, I know it’s just the calories you care about. But I can’t help myself. I enjoy making them look nice.”

“No, no… it all helps!” Max countered. “The fat pig can’t stop himself when they look as enticing as these! It makes my job a lot easier. Thank you.”

Chuckling with a little nervousness, Josh could hardly look Max in the eye. There was something about his enjoyment of all of this that really made him swoon for him. If he was being completely honest with himself, his efforts in the kitchen weren’t entirely about getting revenge on Nathan. These moments alone with Max were also a significant highlight. Not only was the man dripping with sex appeal, but when he spoke about how fat and heavy Nathan was getting, the whole thing seemed almost kinky and excitingly naughty.

“Well, to be fair, neither can I,” Josh admitted, trying not to take it all too seriously. “There were a couple more cream cakes in the box before I got a little peckish earlier.” He rubbed his fat stomach, knowing that the extra few pounds he’d added since baking so much for Max was its own cosmic justice for getting mixed up in this whole wicked plan to fatten up his old high school bully.

Max smiled at him in that cheeky, naughty way that made Josh’s knees want to buckle.

“My ass will soon be as big as Nathan’s!” Josh joked.

“Absolutely!” Max grinned, looking his body up and down like he was checking him out. “You won’t hear any complaints from me about that!”

Josh’s laugh caught in his throat. Was Max being serious with him? It was the most bizarre feeling he had had around him yet. On the one hand, the handsome guy was telling Josh he’d put on a few pounds. Yet, on the other… it definitely felt as if he was flirting at the same time. “I guess I’ll just have to watch what I eat from now on then…” Josh answered, if only to fill the silent void that would likely have followed had he not.

“Nah…” Max grinned. “Not every man wants to date a stick insect,” he winked. “I wouldn’t be doing any of this to Nathan if I didn’t quietly enjoy it.” He lifted a cream cake out of the container and placed it on the side. “For later,” he smiled at him. “For a man who actually deserves it…”

When Josh stood on the scales the next week, he was shocked to see that he was the heaviest he had been in over two years. He rubbed his fat tummy, able to grab full rolls of fat once again now he was 250lbs. His body was familiar and yet very different at the same time. Even at his heaviest, some 30lbs north of this, he had never carried the fat on his glutes like this before. He shook them, hardly comprehending the blubber that rocked and wobbled. But there was an even greater difference to the last time Josh was this size, one that couldn’t be reflected back at him in the mirror: a contentedness that seemed almost inexplicable. So what if he was fat again? Nathan was still considerably fatter. So what if he enjoyed his food? He’d always been a fat boy, no matter how ‘thin’ he had appeared until recently. He’d been a people pleaser for far too long. Now was the time to accept himself for who he truly was. A new Josh had been born.

“I thought I could smell you frying up doughnuts!” Max laughed, letting himself in through the back door, as he was now accustomed to doing. In this neighborhood, tongues would soon start wagging should he be seen to be coming over too often.

“I found a recipe online,” Josh smiled, still with his back to him as he fried. “I’ll put some to the side for you shortly.”

Max had found the recipe printout on the side and he whistled in delight. “Wow… you are quite the bad boy!” he teased. “This is one of the most fattening things I’ve seen you make yet!”

Josh turned, resetting the timer before the latest batch could come out. “I also made some cupcakes earlier,” he pointed to the cooling rack by the refrigerator. “I’ll put some icing on them and you can take some back with you. How long have you got?”

“Twenty minutes or so,” Max shrugged. “Nathan doesn’t know I’m back from the gym yet. He’s in the bathtub.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t get wedged in…” Josh teased, knowing that Max’s wicked sense of humour was rubbing off on him. “What a shame that would be!” he joked.

The man smiled brightly at him; that beautiful face, the wicked twinkle in his eyes. “You know, you’ve really come out of your shell these last few weeks,” Max beamed, admiring every part of him.

Josh ripped one of the fresh, sugar-coated doughnuts in half and put it in his mouth. “I’m just done with giving a crap about what other people think of me. I never realised how good it would feel just to… let it all go.”

Max seemed completely mesmerised by him as Josh ate the second half of the doughnut. He turned back around to pull the last batch out and turned the frier off. It was then that Josh heard him getting up from the stool he was perched on at the breakfast bar and come ever closer. Josh had known for a few days what would happen next; the inevitability of it all; the profound sexual tension. It began with Max’s large hands sliding onto his thicker hips. Max stooped down lower, resting his head on Josh’s shoulder and turned his face in towards his; the hunk’s sweet breath against Josh’s ear. “I think that’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever said,” he whispered.

Josh chuckled to himself. It was actually happening! He swivelled, his mouth meeting Max’s as they kissed sweetly and passionately for the first time. They pulled away, looking deeply into the other’s eyes before laughing and going back in for more. Max’s hands began sliding under Josh’s clothes, lifting his t-shirt off, lowering his sweatpants and feeling the fleshy areas of his body that no man had ever appreciated on him before. The sensation made Josh moan, only spurring Max on further as he lustfully consumed him. In no time at all, the clothes covering the lower halves of both their bodies were removed, Max pressing his oversized hardness into an oiled up Josh. He’d lifted the chubby boy up and placed him down upon the table, spreading his thick legs as he held the glutton’s feet aloft. The thrusting was firm, pleasurable and manic. Max pulled out, lifted his shirt off and used his tongue to warm Josh up until he felt ready to scream with enjoyment, before inserting himself back in and going at it once more. Josh felt at his large, doughy nipples as they rocked and jiggled from the motion, laying across the table top. Max too reached out for them, moaning with pure pleasure. The way he touched them was complete eroticism, bringing intense stimulation wherever his large hands went; especially when they started working Josh’s own hardness.

Josh could tell that Max was having to hold himself back. His enjoyment of his wobbling fat body was absolute. Josh could hardly believe that such a handsome, muscular man was actually making love to him, working so hard to ensure that they could both climax together. The inevitable conclusion, only moments later, was more satisfying than any sexual experience of Josh’s whole life.

Max seemed overcome afterwards, panting furiously. He lifted Josh clean up from the table and kissed him once more. “I’m falling in love with you. You do realise that, right?” he whispered sweetly, letting Josh know that, for him, what they had just done wasn’t only for fun.

Josh beamed, gazing up at the man he admired most in the world. He didn;t need to say anything back. At that moment, both of them just knew.

Having a relationship with another guy’s man was not something Josh had ever thought himself capable of. Then again, none of the men he had clumsily drifted along with since high school had ever been like Max. He was so hardworking and reliable; so handsome and kind. He brought out a side of him that Josh never knew existed, and boosted his confidence like no one had ever even tried to. The man was everything Josh could ever have wished for. But then, he was also still in a sham relationship with the guy Josh despised most in the world.

“No-one likes you here. You know that, right?” hissed an aggressive voice that made Josh jump as he deadheaded the last of the late summer blooms.

“Nathan,” Josh sighed, surprised that he hadn’t even noticed the fat lump coming towards him. Max was clearly working late, otherwise the blubbery bully would never have approached him like this in the evening. “How’re you?”

“You heard me, right?” Nathan battled on, ignoring Josh’s attempt at niceties. “No one likes you here.”

Josh continued with what he was doing. It was the first time he’d spoken to Nathan without his heart beating wildly in his chest. “I am very aware that nobody likes me around here, yes,” he replied calmly, snipping away at the faded flowers.

“You should just sell up and leave,” Nathan continued, getting closer. With his massive weight gain, he had the appearance of being even more intimidating than ever before.

Josh simply ignored him, continuing with his gardening. With so many windows facing towards his garden, there was no way Nathan would ever risk getting physical with him, as he used to when they were teenagers. However, Nathan still had the mindset of a reckless bully and needed to be treated with the utmost caution. Perhaps it was his weight that was making him feel so discontented this evening and in need of hitting out on Josh. Indeed, it was somewhat amusing to Josh that Nathan hadn’t so far tried to use Josh’s own weight gain to aggravate him. There could be only one reason for that: Nathan was well aware that he had packed on even more lard himself.

“If people don’t like me much around here, it’s because they believe a pack of lies, maliciously spread in order to ruin my reputation,” Josh simply offered in reply. “And if people actually like you, it’s because they believe all the lies you tell them in order to make yourself look better. Either way, I’d much rather be who I am, rather than you.”

“How’s your brother doing?” Nathan snapped back.

Josh took a breath. Nathan was a master at warfare. When he realised that one thing was failing to get a rise out of Josh, he could always flip to the next. It was flawlessly jarring and caught him off-guard each and every time. Josh could sense Nathan’s power growing.

“That’s one sweet wheelchair he uses these days,” the bully taunted.

In an instant, Josh felt all his patience evaporate. The end had officially arrived. There the hose pipe lay next to him. He reached for it swiftly, knowing the gun was set to the most powerful mode after he’d been clearing out the drains. Then a wicked grin filled his face as he squeezed the trigger tightly. A fast flowing jet of ice-cold water flew out, pressing forcefully into Nathan’s large, fat tummy and soaking him in an instant. The man yelled, clearly caught out by Josh’s surprising backbone. He began retreating, but Josh was in no mood to let him off, holding firmly to that hose pipe gun and aiming relentlessly towards the bully. The fat boy began moving faster, charging across his lawn and towards the safety of his own home. Josh simply followed him with the water, even as the obese man slipped and landed heavily on the grass, face-first. Even then, Josh still aimed that hose at the wide, fat rump of the boy who had tormented him for so long. Nathan quickly picked his heavy body back up and ran onto his porch, slamming his front door behind him.

Invigorated, Josh dropped the hosepipe and laughed. Nathan’s yelling had alerted several figures to appear in the windows along the street. Everyone had seen the incident, but what did it matter? Josh drew in a gigantic refreshing breath of air and bowed deeply to all of them. With a reputation as bad as his around here, he had nothing to lose. Perhaps that had been Nathan’s biggest mistake from the start.

“We could forget all about the plan?” Max suggested as a naked, thoroughly satisfied 250lb Josh rested his head against his powerful chest in bed a few weeks later. “We could just sell up and leave here together. Nathan and his family wouldn’t be our problem anymore.”

Josh sighed. Max’s offer was everything he longed for and more. Calling Max his own was a dream he could hardly dare to imagine. Falling in love had felt like the most natural thing in the world and both of them were open about having never experienced anything like it before. With the pair having lost their parents at such a young age, they knew the value of their bond and the importance of cherishing the shared love that they had. But it wasn’t time to give into it just yet. There was too much hurt and trauma to make amends for.

“Are you getting closer?” Josh asked him. “Whatever case or evidence you’re trying to gather against Nathan’s family?”

Max was quiet. “I think so,” he whispered, intertwining his fingers between Josh’s and admiring his chubby little hands. “The fatter Nathan gets, the more his family seems desperate for me not to leave him. It’s as if they admire me for sticking around. They trust me.”

“Good,” Josh replied. “That’s exactly what we need.”

“So, we’re seeing this one out, all the way to the end?” Max asked him, still quietly hopeful that they could run away together instead.

Josh raised himself up and grabbed the can of spray cream he had kinkily brought into the bedroom with them so that he could lick it off Max’s perfect body. “Of course we are,” he smiled, tilting his head back and pumping the cream down his throat, just like the fat boy inside him had always longed to do. By the time he had finished, he looked down and saw Max’s hardness had been resurrected and amplified tenfold. It was always that greedy, gluttonous, independent side of Josh that the man seemed to admire most. “Besides...” he grinned, starting to stimulate Max’s erection as he climbed on top and grabbed the man’s hands until they rested upon his fleshy love handles, “...I haven’t made that bastard fat enough yet!”

A thoroughly reinvigorated Max growled with lust, flipping the fat boy over and reversing their positions. He reached for the spray cream, grinning from ear to ear as he made love to him for the third time that night, filling Josh’s mouth with fluffy cream, one squirt at a time.

Nathan had started to upset a couple of folks on the street over the next few weeks; his true colours coming through at long last. Josh had thought things were going wrong for Nathan the moment he had tried to get Josh charged for assault and battery after the water hose incident. Despite all the many witnesses in the windows, not one of the neighbors had corroborated Nathan’s claims about the incident. Even Mr Gomez’s security cameras had bizarrely deleted the footage for that entire day. At the time, Josh had simply assumed that Max had called in a couple of favors as he desperately scrambled to discreetly assert some damage control, purely for Josh’s sake. Josh had denied everything to the police, just as Max had advised him to (once he had stopped laughing). However, it seemed once one of Nathan’s lies had been unpicked, more followed as the gossiping neighbors began to compare notes. A re-evaluation had been going on in the street and it seemed as if Josh had suddenly become worthy enough to wave to once more. It was all too little too late in Josh’s opinion, returning only a frosty raised hand in response.

Kelly had tried to muscle her way back into his life, without a word of explanation as to why she had barely spoken a word to Josh in months. She knew she was on thin ice, not daring to comment on how much weight Josh had been piling on in the time that had passed. Instead, she simply launched back into all the tasty bits of gossip Josh had missed out on whilst ostracised; discussing none more so than Nathan.

“I think they’re going to split, him and Max,” Kelly rambled as Josh dug in his winter flowering mix, barely listening to her. “He’s well over three and twenty hundred pounds! They don’t even sleep together anymore!” she whispered. “He lost his job for lying to them. He was trying to poach clients for his family’s business! Derek heard all about it. He said you’ve never heard language like it than when they caught him in the act!”

Josh smirked, having heard all about it from Max over two weeks ago. Kelly was so behind the times!

“He’ll never get another desk job again,” Kelly determined. “He’s just living off poor Max. Although, who the hell knows what he sees in him? Personally, I never liked the man!”

Josh chuckled to himself at the lie, declining the invite to join them in the yoga class that week. That ship had sailed. Even after the neighbors had backed him up with the police, it was likely more about teaching Nathan a lesson than it was about Josh himself. He had seen who his real friends were, and Kelly was not amongst them. Instead, he took himself back inside, excited to get started on a new recipe he had found that morning.

“Something smells nice!” Max whispered later, his hands wrapping around Josh’s thick waist as he stood at the stove. “Your famous chocolate fudge sauce?”

“With extra butter…” Josh teased him back.

“Mmm…” Max mumbled; his hardness pressing into Josh’s large, round rear. “You’re such a bad boy!”

“You know it!” Josh grinned, letting Max’s horny hands travel all over his vast blubbery exterior and into his underwear, warming him up like only Max could. He’d never been as fat as this in his whole life, but life as an average height, 320lb man was suiting him just fine. In Max’s arms he felt sexy and confident; a precious being to be loved and admired. He leaned his head back into Max’s chest as the man’s hands stimulated his hardness perfectly, making him moan softly as he stirred the sauce.

“And the best part is,” Max whispered, “this fudge mix is all for you. Nathan has gone back to his parents’ place for a few days. That means, he’s going to be there when they’re all arrested tonight. Every last one of them!”

“How?” Josh asked, his face beaming with surprise and shock as he turned to face his lover.

“I finally managed to copy daddy’s hard drive,” Max smirked, raising his big arms over Josh’s shoulders and kissing him sweetly. “There’s stuff on there that implicates them all. Serious stuff!”

“Will they know it was you who passed it onto the police?” Josh asked next, a little concerned.

“Not a chance!” Max grinned triumphantly; his hands now mindlessly rubbing Josh’s giant glutes. “Although, maybe you think I should lay low in your house for a few days, just to be safe, huh?” he joked, clearly aroused by their sudden good fortune. He pulled off his t-shirt and flexed his pecs in the way Josh most enjoyed.

“I like that idea!” Josh smiled back excitedly.

“Oh, yeah?” Max smirked, handling his large glutes and bouncing them in the way that made them wobble the most. “Do you think you’re ready to have a big, strong man around the house all the time? Pampering you as much as he can?” he whispered, kissing his neck passionately.

The fudge sauce was catching on the bottom and burning. Already it was ruined. But what did it matter? Max would never deny him anything he wanted. Josh would whip up some more and consume it in front of him, even as his clothes got ever smaller. Finally, he could be the greedy boy he always was inside, and with a man who had a great track record of keeping his boys well fed.

Hatred had brought them to each other, but it was love that would keep them together, no matter what came next.

“Have you met the new neighbors?” asked Sandra, watching as Max’s truck pulled into his new driveway.

“I popped over yesterday,” nodded Helen, quietly admiring the strapping Max as he got out of his truck, waving to them politely before reaching back in and grabbing a couple of boxes of pizzas from his passenger seat. “He’s certainly very handsome! And incredibly charming!” she admitted, watching Max’s strong glutes as the muscular man strutted into his new home, ready to surprise his husband.

“The other one seemed very nice too,” Sandra commented next, clearly holding back on something.

“Yes, very sweet,” agreed Helen. “If you like that sort of thing. He manages their construction business, you know. Josh does all the admin from home. Max does all the physical side of things.”

“Perhaps that’s why that one is so…” Sandra hinted.

“Yes, perhaps,” Helen nodded. “Although you do get some men who like that sort of thing,” she added, as if knowingly.

“I don’t doubt it,” Sandra chuckled. “Why else would a strapping man like that marry an enormous boy like that? I’d have a fit if one of my children tried to bring home a fat blob like him!”

“Quite right,” Helen agreed. “He must be at least four hundred pounds!”

“Oh, at least!” Sandra echoed. “Disgusting!”

“I saw them in their front yard the other night whilst the handsome one was digging up the flower beds. He couldn’t keep his hands off the fat one! I had to close the curtains in the end. No one wants to see that!”

The pair sighed with a muted longing. They’d already made their minds up about Josh. He wasn’t going to be one of them, and they’d certainly let him know that in time. However, they could all quietly envy him for the rest of their days, able to eat whatever he wanted and keep the attention of a man who would never stray. The man who didn’t need their approval, nor the expected, tedious, married, middle class lifestyle the others here had secretly tired of many years earlier.

Bullies could be found everywhere. They came in all shapes and sizes, encrusted within every walk of life and every last neighborhood there had ever been. But inside that house of warmth, love and acceptance, Josh and Max would never fail to outlast them all.

#gainer stories #gainerstory #gayfeeder #gayfeedee #gainerstories #gainer story #gainerfic #gainer fiction #gay feedee #gainer fic

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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months ago

Text

Locker Room: Part Two

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, rough kissing, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, desk sex

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: originally for @glitterypirateduck 's Ghost Writing Challenge, this is the follow-up to Locker Room

Part One // SImon's POV

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist

Like the steam from the locker room, your irritation soon evaporates. It floats away until all that’s left is this gnawing, twisting sensation in the pit of your stomach.

What the fuck were you thinking storming into the men’s locker room like that, demanding that Lieutenant Riley show his face?

You weren’t thinking. That’s the entire problem. You were angry—and rightfully so—but you didn’t even consider where your actions were leading.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

Just thinking those words sends your stomach twisting all over again. You need to cool off. To calm down. While you’re not exactly angry anymore, there is a needy sensation crawling beneath your skin.

Lieutenant Riley was entirely too forward. And this nonsense about staking a claim? Hardly. You are your own person. Lieutenant Riley isn’t allowed to have a sliver of you unless you say so. Speaking it into the air doesn’t make it the truth.

You slam your office door shut and lean against it, resting your head in your hands. Taking a deep inhalation through your nose, you exhale through your mouth. Repeating the process helps, but it is momentary. Fleeting.

You’re tense the rest of the day. On edge. You keep glancing over your shoulder thinking that Lieutenant Riley will appear like a phantom. It’s silly, because he doesn’t. You don’t see him at all. Even as you push through your lunch and consume dinner in your office, you don’t see him.

He doesn’t come by. No one mentions him.

But the sticky note is there. It’s still stuck to the front of the manila folder.

The reports are just fine, sweetheart.

With your newly blooming irritation comes the creak of door hinges.

“What?” you snap, glancing up.

Lieutenant Riley stands in your doorway. He as one hand on the handle and the other on the doorframe. For some reason, you expect the towel, his wet skin, and the steam from the locker room, not this behemoth of a man covered nearly head-to-toe.

He does not reply to your sharp tone. Lieutenant Riley saunters in, shutting the door behind him. Without looking, he pulls the little strings on the blinds, cutting off the view of the hallway. He even locks the door, and in this, he still doesn’t glance back. Every movement is fluid. Smooth. Natural.

It’s sexy. And fucking irritating.

“Come to fix your reports?” you ask, leaning back in your chair. You twirl your pen end-over-end. It’s keeping you from looking away from him.

Lieutenant Riley says nothing. He strides forward—all of three steps as the office is a fucking closet—and snatches the manila folder off the desk. He opens it up, glancing down at the content.

You cross your legs and attempt to relax your shoulders. You don’t want Lieutenant Riley to know that he has an affect on you. Already, your body wants to lean in his direction. It wants to give him attention.

And that will not do.

“What’s wrong with them?” he finally asks, flipping a page.

You stop twirling the pen. Start clicking the end. “My notes are right there. Can you not read?”

It’s not very nice of you, but it’s simply defense. Fuck the reports. If they’re garbage, you’ll submit them anyway. You just need Lieutenant Riley out of your office. You need some goddamn space. It’s far too hot in here. Too cramped.

Lieutenant Riley glances up from the report, and it is then that you know you’ve completely fucked up. It’s that same piercing stare from the locker room. You’re stabbed through. Gutted. He sees you for who you are, and there is no way out. No path for you to take.

Slowly, Lieutenant Riley closes the folder. He holds it out and then drops it onto your desk. His arm returns to his side.

He is so large like this. So much more intimidating.

“Are we fucking here? Or elsewhere?” His delivery is so bland and straightforward that you don’t believe you’ve heard him correctly.

You stop clicking the pen. “What?” you nearly squawk, sitting up in your chair.

“I said—”

“I fucking heard you, Lieutenant.”

“Simon,” he growls. “I told you to call me Simon.”

In the steam and heat, he did say that. And you grabbed his dog tags, yanked him down to your level, kissing him through the balaclava in response.

You also told him to fix the reports. And here he is.

“Simon,” you begin, and then pause because his hips sway slightly as he shifts toward you. “What are you doing?”

Simon comes around to your side of the desk. There is a sultry sway to it, a confidence that steals your autonomy. He walks right up to you. Leaning forward, he reaches out, placing his hand on the top of your chair, boxing you in.

“Are we fucking in this room?”

“We’re not—”

“—or am I taking you home?”

You swallow, heat flaring up your neck to flame your cheeks. “Aren’t you here to fix the reports?”

It’s a diversion. A way to turn the conversation. But Simon doesn’t take the bait.

“Pick,” he says, voice low.

“Simon.”

“Want me to pick for you?” He arches a single eyebrow.

All the steam and bluster are gone. You’re melting. Submitting. You feel it deep in your bones.

“Back up,” you murmur, but even you hear the weakness in it.

Simon shakes his head. His other hand comes up, the backs of his fingers brushing along your jawline. It’s a gentle touch. You reflexively lean into it.

“I think you want my cock now, love.”

You jerk backward, but Simon is quick. He has you out of your chair and sitting on your desk in moments. You’re completely flustered, hands digging into his biceps as Simon settles himself between your legs, his hands on your waist.

“Better,” he says, sounding content.

You blink and then smack his chest. “Simon Riley!”

“My full name?” he purrs. “That’s a nice change.”

“You presume too much.”

“Do I?” he counters. He releases your hips, placing his hands firmly on either side of you. “Then explain that kiss earlier.”

You swallow, knowing that he’s caught you. There is a need that sits between your bones. A need for him, even if you don’t want to admit it.

“It meant nothing.”

“No, love.” He shakes his head. “It didn’t. Try again.”

Simon is caging you in. Splitting you open. Why should you run? Why should you not admit your feelings? If anything, the two of you can fuck on this desk and get whatever this is out of your system.

“I was angry. I wanted to push you.”

The balaclava around his mouth stretches. He’s fucking grinning.

“Here I am.”

“Here you are,” you agree.

Simon’s dark gaze shifts to your lips. “Without the balaclava this time?” His gaze returns to your face, and there is intense need there.

You reach out, slip your fingers underneath, and push the balaclava up. Slowly, you reveal Simon’s chin and lips, then the tip of his nose. There are scars, but that is not what you’re focused on. You’re focused on his lips, and he yours.

Leaning in is agony. You long to close the distance, and yet there is hesitation in the way you bring your face closer to his. Simon senses it too, because he grabs the back of your neck, and closes the distance.

There is no gentleness in the way Simon kisses you. His need is apparent. Aching. He is a devouring beast, and you meet him with equal enthusiasm. Simon’s tongue passes between your lips and you open for him. You taste mint and black tea with the faintest hint of smoke. You commit this taste to memory.

Simon’s hands are everywhere, squeezing waist, thighs, and hips. There is no pattern to it. There is only desperation.

Growling, Simon pulls away. He grabs hold of the collar of your button up shirt. Tugging, Simon pops the top three buttons. They go flying, disappearing from you.

“Simon,” you gasp, but it’s all you can manage. His mouth is on yours again, and that large hand is slipping inside, palming your breast.

“Fucking hell,” he moans into your mouth. “I need to be inside you.”

Begging. Simon is begging. You’ve never heard this. Simon is the stoic one. Calm. Cold. Calculated. But he’s kissing you with hunger, and his hips rock against you, the sensation almost more than you can handle.

“Then fuck me, Lieutenant.”

Simon chuckles, and he smiles—actually smiles—before grabbing your waist and bringing you to your feet. With his hands still on your waist, Simon turns you around, facing you away from him.

His hand slide forward and easily undoes the front of your slacks. Simon tugs them down enough to expose you to him.

“Fuck,” he mutters, fingers sliding between your thighs to play with your pussy.

The contact is electric, and you push back against his hand. Simon rests his face against the back of your neck.

“You’re already so fucking wet for me,” he says against your skin.

His fingers find your clit, and the moan you let out is obscene. Simon strokes until your pussy clenches as your wetness floods his palm.

Glancing over your shoulder, Simon brings his sticky fingers to his mouth. He sucks them clean.

“My turn, love.”

With a sharp tug, Simon forces your slacks down to your knees. He bends you forward slightly and your hands press into the top of the desk to keep yourself steady.

The angle is tight, overly so. When Simon notches the head of his cock at your entrance and beings to push in, it feels far too large.

“Simon. Simon. Fuck—oh. Fuck.”

“You can take me, love. Just breathe. That’s it.” Simon moves your hair to the side and his mouth comes down on your neck, leaving behind gentle kisses as he rocks his hips.

Once he’s in to the hilt, Simon adjusts. One arm crosses over your stomach, his palm coming to rest between your hands that are pressed against the top of the desk. His other hand is on the front of your throat.

His lips brush against your ear, and then Simon thrusts. It’s not slow. It’s not gentle. This one makes him grunt with effort, and the desk hinders all forward movement.

Simon’s teeth nip at your earlobe. The distraction works, causing your mind to temporarily drift from his withdrawal. The thrust forward makes you gasp, and then it is unending.

There are no words spoken, only heavy breath. Sweat blooms on your brow, and runs down the back of your neck. Simon’s weight is relentless, and the pleasure building in your core again is a taunting thing. It wants to explode, to roar outward, to consume you.

You don’t have space to slide your hand between your legs. Instead, you arch your back, bringing your ass up slightly. It gives Simon a different angle, and this time you shiver. Shake. Thighs quivering as your orgasm crawls up and out your throat.

The moment you start to cry out, Simon turns your head toward him, his mouth coming down on yours. He swallows your pleasure, matching it with his own. He grinds forward, his release flooding your pussy.

Your chest heaves as Simon pulls back.

There is nothing else in room. There is only him, and his dark eyes.

Slowly, Simon eases himself from your pussy. He reaches over and grabs a tissue, cleaning you up the best he can before tossing it into the trashcan beneath your desk. Then his hands are drawing your pants into place.

He guides you around to face him, closing the zipper and putting everything to right. He even fixes your buttonless shirt as best he can.

“I’ll replace it,” he says.

“It’s fine, Simon.”

The two of you stare at each other, the silence stretching. You’re not sure what he might be thinking, but his gaze hardens.

“You’re off tomorrow,” he states, not asking.

“I am. How—what are you doing?”

Simon has his phone out. He’s tapping away at the screen and then the little whoosh of a text sending off reaches your ears.

“You’re coming home with me,” he says, slipping the phone into his pocket.

“You—”

“Told Price I’d be in late tomorrow.”

“You can do that?”

Simon shrugs. “Price can manage.”

He takes a step back, his gaze observing you. “You’re a right mess.”

“No thanks to you,” you mutter, smacking his chest as you push past him.

You snatch up your purse and work bag, glancing up at Simon just as he returns the balaclava to its original place.

He saunters up beside you and extends his hand. You take it, and Simon draws you against him, gaze never leaving your face as he guides you to the door.

You doubt that you will come back from this.

Simon is not out of your system.

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lady-phasma · 2 months ago

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Fangtober Day 4 - Bondage

Dom!Armand x fem!reader (vampire)

Summary: Reader is a new addition to the Theater and Maître takes a particular interest in her and decides to show her the ropes take her to a private flat for a session, 3.3k words.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, it started out as bondage fluff but then turned into smut, tiny bit of blood play, unprotected sex but vampire sex so not risky.

a/n: Thank you so much to the moot who suggested actor vamp!reader new to the coven. However, I struggled with this one for a while - I finally just powered through it and here it is. fem!reader but reader not described.

So far the initiations and manual labor with the theater hadn’t been so bad. You slogged through your nights, cleaning the rows after the filthy humans left, helping with disposal after performances, whatever was needed. And you were rewarded with pre-dawn camaraderie, as you watched and listed to the elder vampires tell stories, rehearse, or just chat. Occasionally there were nights out among humans. The first few weeks had felt infinitely long, but now you had begun to adjust to a routine.

You began to nurture new and tentative friendships with Celeste and Estelle and even Sam. Even Santiago wasn’t always a cunt to you. As you had settled into the coven you had begun to notice Maître more and more. His eyes missed nothing. Constantly alert, constantly appraising, Armand watched his new addition. You felt an attraction to him that wasn’t there at first. You had been a little intimidated by Maître at the start of your tutelage. but now you wondered what exactly he was thinking about. Maybe it was all in your head.

As you swept the auditorium floor tonight you listened to the coven chatter and almost longed to join in. However, there was a small part of you that was glad to be alone with your chores. You didn’t feel like being seen this evening. Disappearing into the background suited you just fine. You were nearly finished, brushing the trash into the bin, when you heard footsteps behind you.

“Maître,” you bowed as soon as you turned to face him. Armand took a step toward you, slightly entering your personal space.

“Good evening, puce,” he let the words slide off his tongue, emphasizing your station. “Are you almost finished with your duties?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied happily, almost but not quite looking into his eyes. “I only need to empty this.” You gestured to your trash can.

“Take it to the incinerator then meet me in the lobby. Don’t dally.” Armand left before you could reply.

You dusted off your clothes and ran a hand over your hair, smoothing it down, while you went to the lobby.

“Maître,” you greeted Armand as you entered.

“Walk with me.” He held the door open, allowing you to exit first. You stepped into the cool Autumn air of the city. Halos of mist hung around the street lamps as the evening’s rain slowly evaporated from the pavement. The emptying street had a quality that only late night city streets have, a liminal feeling left behind after the humans were nearly all tucked into their beds.

“Come,” Armand commanded from beside you. You walked in silence, waiting on him to explain or elucidate, but he did not. Not for many blocks. It wasn’t long before you had left the arrondissement and crossed the Seine. Vampire speed, even slowed for public viewing, was still surprisingly fast to you.

“I thought we could go somewhere with more privacy. I have a flat nearby,” he offered, apropos of nothing. He lit a cigarette, offered you one, and smoked for the rest of the walk. He dropped the butt on the pavement and ground it out with the toe of his show before opening the door to the apartment building.

You followed Armand through the doors and up the three flights of stairs to the flat. When you entered and Armand had locked the door behind you, a fire blazed in the fireplace. He took off his coat and hung it on a rack by the door. He tucked his hands in his pockets as he entered the small room. It was modest, a studio with a closet-sized bathroom in one corner, a table in the kitchen area, and a full size bed taking up much more space than the traditional twin bed these apartments usually housed. The only places to sit with the table or bed so you stood, waiting.

Armand strode to the fireplace and made a show of warming his hands over the fire. At first he didn’t turn to look at you when he spoke. You watched his face, lit by the fire, nearly mesmerized by the yellow and orange light in his hair.

“You are no doubt wondering why I brought you here tonight. You show potential, perhaps not to be center stage any time soon, but maybe one day. But you have something…” His voice trailed off as he turned to you and moved to stand directly in front of you. He lightly stroked your cheek.

“Interesting,” he murmured to himself as he appraised you. “You trust me as your Maître, yes?”

“Of course, Maître,” you nodded.

“So if I ask you to do something you would do it without question?” His nails ran down the side of your neck to your shirt collar.

“Yes, Maître.” You didn’t nod this time, something in his face had shifted and a nod felt too unserious.

“Well, puce, if I ask you to do something tonight that you find objectionable, simply say the word ‘aubergine’ and you won’t have to do it.” He smiled gently at the befuddled look on your face as he began to unbutton your blouse. “You can remember that word?”

“Yes, Maître.”

“Perfect.” He took his time opening your shirt while your heart hammered in your chest. You knew he could hear it and it would have embarrassed you, yet… Yet it seemed as if this wasn’t new to him at all.

Armand slipped your blouse off your shoulders. Then he began to work on the buttons of your slacks. You weren’t sure why you were doing this. It wasn’t entirely because he was your Maître. That was certainly part of it, but it felt like a very small part. You mostly felt like you would do anything for this ethereal creature. His hands moved deftly and barely touched your skin as he slid your pants to the floor. You stepped out of the pile of clothing without being told to. You stood still as Armand picked up the shirt and slacks and laid them over the back of a kitchen chair. You felt self-conscious standing in your undergarments, but Armand didn’t look at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. He led you to the bed and directed you to sit.

“You should know, this isn’t about the theater, darling,” he said. “This… is for my own enjoyment.”

You watched him with trepidation and excitement as he opened a drawer in the wardrobe and removed something. It looked like silk cord or rope and your heart raced in your chest again. He laid the bundle of cord on the bed and stepped next to you. He tilted your face up toward his with the lightest pressure of his fingertips.

“Lay down for me,” Armand whispered. You did so. Armand slowly began to unbutton his shirt, then placed it on the kitchen chair as well. He untied and toed off his shoes, placed them neatly beneath the chair, and walked to the bed in in his pants and socks. His movements were maddeningly slow as your mind raced with the possibilities. He untied the bundle of cord and it glistened in the dim light, it looked soft, but strong. He knelt on the bed near your feet as he spoke.

“Bend your knees, press your heels to your rear,” he instructed. You felt your face go hot, a very human response, but you did as you were told. He wrapped the cord around your thigh, then your shin, and tied your leg in a bent position. The cord was silky-smooth against your skin, but the knots were tight. Then he repeated the process on your other leg. You were exposed and vulnerable like this, even with your undergarments still on. You could have easily broken the bonds using your weak, fledgeling strength, but this was far more interesting. Armand took the remaining lengths of cord and moved them to your side.

“Hands above your head, palms together.” You pressed your hands together above your head. He leaned forward, between your legs, and bound your wrists together. Every sensation was more intense now: the fabric of his trousers rough against your inner thighs, the drag of his fingers over your camisole, grazing your hard nipples. He stood up and your eyes followed him as he walked to the table and sat in the empty chair. He tapped a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and smoked. He didn’t rush. You tried not to let your thoughts show on your face, but you knew you failed. Your brow was furrowed as you waited on him. The cords dug into your skin even though you had barely moved at all. Your normally shallow and slow vampire breathing sped up. Your cunt throbbed.

After an eternity, Armand stood and approached the bed. He trailed his fingers down one of your knees, down your shin to where the cord crossed your leg. You shivered. He moved to kneel on the bed, between your legs again. Slowly he slid a hand up your belly, under your camisole. His fingertips brushed against the undersides of your breasts. You gasped at his touch. As he moved his hand back down, he used both to gently press your thighs apart. Even that small movement caused the cord to shift against your skin. You sucked air sharply between your teeth. He let his fingers slide down the insides of your thighs and gently touched you over your panties. You could feel your wetness against the fabric and moaned. You tried to lift your hips to his touch, but it was nearly impossible in this position. The cords seemed to tighten as your legs shifted. You moaned as he pulled his fingers away, craving more of him.

Armand didn’t make you wait long. His long fingers slid up your buttocks to where the cord held you, then moved his hands up your hips. He leaned forward, almost hovering above you. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against your nipple through the thin fabric. He licked gently, leaving a damp spot above the hard point of your nipple. You involuntarily arched your back to get closer to his mouth and whined when your bonds prevented it.

“Maître, please,” you begged.

“Please what?” Armand quipped back, but his tone was patient.

“More please, Maître,” the sound of your voice was almost pathetic to your own ears, but you didn’t care. You watched him through half-closed eyes as he rubbed his hands gently up and down your sides. His thumbs occasionally grazing a nipple. He slid your camisole up over your breasts and sucked one of your nipples between his teeth. You could have cried out from the shock, but the pressure was so light that you could only pant. You still needed more. You wanted to touch him, run your fingers through his dark curls, down his neck, press yourself into his mouth.

Before you could beg again he sucked harder on your nipple and pressed his hips between your legs. You made an inhuman sound as the front of his pants rubbed against your panties and your sensitive lips. He sucked and licked your nipple with increased focus, getting caught up in the sensations and grinding his hips in slow circles. The pressure of his cock against you was a momentary relief. Then he pulled back.

“So needy,” Armand growled as he kissed down your stomach. He rose up to look at you as his fingers delved under the edge of your panties at the crease of your hips. Slowly, teasingly, he moved your panties to the side. He trailed his finger over you aching, swollen cunt, dipping just into your folds before leaving you wanting more.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered as he looked into your heavily-lidded eyes. “So well for me.”

“Yes, Maître,” was all you could think to say, the words most likely inaudible to a human, but he heard.

Armand continued to hold your panties aside as he leaned down and kissed just above your slit. He flicked his tongue over your clit and you twitched, moaning and whining. He smiled and licked harder, his tongue sliding between your lips. He moaned and the vibration sent chills up your spine. He teased you, not offering you any satisfaction, over your clit, down to your entrance, and back up. You wanted to beg and plead, but tried to bite back the words. Whimpering moans escaped your mouth, incoherent sounds, as you shifted and pulled against the restraints. You made no effort to break free. You could have, but the need for him to touch you, to keep doing this, was nearly overwhelming.

When Armand sat up he let go of your panties and began to unbutton his pants. You groaned louder than you intended. The thought that he would reward you, give you what you craved, flew through your mind.

“Yes, a small reward for such good behavior,” he grinned. “Perhaps I’ll even give you a release.” He slid his pants and boxers off his hips. You stared unabashedly. He was gorgeous. His dark hair caught the low light of the room, his chest rippled as he moved his pants further down, the muscles of his stomach flexing tautly. He stroked his cock lightly as he moved closer to you. Your legs strained against the cord. You watched him watch as he lined up and pressed his cock against you. He looked up and met your gaze. Yes? he asked silently. You nodded. When he slid into you it felt as if all of your bonds tightened. Your hands itched to reach for him, but you kept them above your head. Your thighs and shins seemed to press against the cord as you widened your legs to make room for his hips.

“God,” he moaned as he sank all the way into you. He steadied himself with a hand on each of your knees as he began slow, long strokes. Every time he pressed into you, the cords binding you shifted and dug a little harder. His eyes nearly closed as he increased his pace, hands sliding down to grip your thighs, then hips. The combination of sensations was exquisite. Every movement, every thrust, intensified by your inability to move.

Armand moaned softly as he slid into you over and over. His eyes flicked between your face and watching himself disappear into your cunt. His fingers tightened on your hips slightly as he moved faster. You whimpered as you grew even more desperate to touch him. Just my hands, you thought. Armand looked up at you with a nearly compassionate expression and leaned forward. You lifted your hands, still bound, and ran your fingers through his hair. The new contact combined with the forward shift of his hips drew a groan from your throat. As you stroked his hair, he almost seemed to purr. His sounds were soft and deep. He kissed your neck and collarbone as he pounded into you.

The mingling of your voices, your need, filled the small apartment. You grazed your nails against Armand’s scalp. He moaned and cursed against your skin. You clenched tight around him, so close, so desperate. You tried rolling your hips again, despite your bonds, this time disregarding the pain. You continued to ignore the part of your mind that insisted you could break them and be free. He wanted this, needed this, and you wanted to give it to him.

“Oh Maître,” you whined into his dark curls. You felt a small shudder pass over his body and continued. “You feel so good. Harder. Please.” Your words came out as breathy whispers, a pleading note in your voice.

Armand shifted his weight to one hand on the bed and slid the other up behind your shoulder. He pulled you down onto his cock as he thrust up and you cried out. He lifted his head to look at you and you saw that he was almost smirking. Hearing you beg was exactly what he wanted. He licked his lips and leaned down, kissing your hungrily. His hips slammed into yours and you moaned and whined into his mouth. Lips and tongues and fangs collided. You tasted your own blood in your mouth and arched your back. Armand sucked at the wound on your bottom lip, his movements becoming slightly erratic. You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled back, gasping.

“Please Maître,” you looked into his eyes. “I want you to come.” He nearly smiled before kissing you again, licking the remaining blood from your already-healed lip. You barely noticed when he freed your wrists, his movements were so quick, and before the cord had slid off he muttered against your mouth.

“Touch yourself, puce, now.” Armand’s command alone could almost have been enough to bring your climax. You groaned as you slid your hand between your bodies. You looked at his face as you circled your clit, watching his reaction to how you tightened around him. He closed his eyes in the most beautiful expression of peace and pleasure. His hips began to stutter just a bit and you increased the pressure of your fingers as you brought yourself closer. You both groaned and panted as your climaxes neared. You closed your eyes and inhaled as you focused on his body above you, the way he moved inside you, the way his balls hit your ass with each thrust, the way you squeezed your thighs against his hips, the way his breath was hot on your skin. Your orgasm seemed to tense in all your muscles, starting everywhere at once, then it rushed over you. Your thighs shook. Your hand slowed as your arms trembled.

Armand nearly growled into your ear as you came around him. He thrust a few more times and, nails digging into your shoulder to hold you against him, he came hard. Mumbled curses and praise floated past your ear, but you were too far gone to pick out single words. He lay on top of you for a moment, balls emptying, cock twitching and softening, before pressing himself up to kneel between your legs again. He gently stroked a finger around from your temple, to your cheek, and along your jaw. Then he slowly began to pull out and you groaned as you felt his cum move with him. It was a singular and delightful feeling, but stimulation was becoming overstimulation with your legs still bound.

Armand knew this and as he knelt he began to untie your legs. He didn’t move slowly, but he took his time. Even though you were no longer human, he rubbed the skin of your legs where the cord had been as gently as if you were. He helped you straighten out your legs, one at a time, slowly and with care, with expertise. He stayed kneeling between your legs for a bit longer as he massaged them until they were flat on the bed. You watched with a mixture of awe and adoration. You also couldn’t help but to notice that he was equally gorgeous, soft and spent, as he was when he had started. You looked at him between your legs and felt a deepening attraction. This was a side of Armand that a select few were allowed to see and you were now included among them. Deftly, he slid his clothes off the rest of the way and lay on the bed next to you.

“Come here, puce,” he said with a tone that was more of an invitation than a command. He circled an arm around you and pulled you next to him. You laid your head on his chest and rested your hand on his stomach. You rolled half onto your side, wanting as much contact with him as possible. You let your hand travel up his stomach to play with the hair on his chest as you lay in his arm.

“Thank you, Maître,” you whispered as you closed your eyes.

Fangtober 2024 prompt list • Main masterlist

#the vampire armand #armand x reader #amc interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #armand #fangtober 2024 #iwtv fangtober 2024 #x reader #iwtv fic #auntiegifs #assad zaman #the vampire armand x reader #x inclusive!reader

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