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keyplaid · 11 days

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After the video of Thomas admitting he "liked" the wedgies circulated online, it spread through the school like wildfire. By the next morning, nearly every student had seen it, and Thomas could feel their eyes on him wherever he went. Whispers followed him in the hallways, and every smirk or quiet laugh felt like a knife in his back. The humiliation was suffocating, and he knew Rupert, James, and Edward were behind it all.

The three boys, feeling emboldened by their latest success, treated it like a victory. They strutted around the school with a newfound swagger, reveling in their power and enjoying every second of Thomas’s torment. It was as if the entire school had joined in on their joke, feeding off the sense of control they had gained over him.

For Thomas, life became a series of small agonies. He couldn’t escape the endless mocking or the constant feeling of being watched and judged. Every time he thought he might find a moment of peace, he would catch a glimpse of someone watching him, whispering to a friend, or snickering as he passed by. The shame and humiliation gnawed at him, making it hard to concentrate on his studies, hard to sleep, hard to breathe.

A few days after the video had gone viral, Rupert, James, and Edward decided it was time to escalate things further. They found Thomas again, this time in the dining hall. As he tried to eat his lunch alone at the far end of a long table, they surrounded him, blocking his escape.

“Thomas!” Rupert called out, his voice overly cheerful. “Our favorite star! How’s it feel to be famous, eh?”

Thomas looked up, his face pale, his eyes ringed with exhaustion. “Just leave me alone,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

“Oh, come on,” James grinned. “We just wanted to congratulate you on your newfound fame. You’re practically a legend now, aren’t you?”

Edward smirked, leaning in closer. “Yeah, everyone knows how much you love being our little pet. And we thought… why not make things even more fun?”

Thomas felt a cold sweat form on his brow. “What do you want?” he asked quietly, though he dreaded the answer.

Rupert’s grin widened. “Oh, nothing much,” he said. “Just another performance. This time, in person. You know, so everyone can see how much you enjoy our little games.”

Thomas’s heart sank. He glanced around the dining hall, realizing it was too crowded to escape unnoticed. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I’m not doing anything.”

James’s smile faded, replaced by a look of cold determination. “You don’t have a choice, Thomas,” he said. “Either you do as we say, or we’ll make things even worse for you.”

Edward chuckled. “Yeah, much worse. You think you’re embarrassed now? Just wait.”

The boys grabbed him, pulling him up from his seat and dragging him toward the center of the dining hall. A hush fell over the room as everyone turned to watch, curiosity and excitement gleaming in their eyes.

“Listen up, everyone!” Rupert called out, his voice echoing through the hall. “Thomas here has something to say. Go on, Thomas, tell them.”

Thomas’s face burned with shame, and his heart pounded in his chest. He could feel tears welling up again, but he fought them back. “I… I don’t want to,” he stammered.

Rupert shook his head. “Wrong answer, Thomas,” he said, grabbing the waistband of Thomas’s underwear through his trousers. “Tell them you love it. Tell them how much you enjoy being our little toy.”

The room erupted in laughter and jeers. Thomas felt like the ground was falling out from under him. “Please,” he begged softly. “Not here.”

James gave a mocking pout. “Aww, poor Thomas is shy. Come on, mate, don’t be like that. We all know you want it.”

Edward joined in. “Say it, Thomas. Say you want it, or we’ll make this even worse.”

The pressure was overwhelming. Thomas felt trapped, cornered, and helpless. “I… I like it,” he whispered, his voice barely a croak.

Rupert cupped his ear. “Louder, Thomas! Let everyone hear you!”

Thomas swallowed hard, feeling the tears sting his eyes. “I like it,” he repeated, louder this time, his voice cracking with humiliation.

The boys laughed louder, feeding off the crowd’s amusement. Rupert yanked up the waistband of Thomas’s underwear, giving him another sharp, humiliating wedgie. Thomas gasped in pain, feeling the fabric dig into his skin.

“There you go!” James cheered. “That’s the spirit, Thomas! See, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

The entire dining hall was roaring with laughter now, the jeers and taunts echoing off the walls. Thomas felt like he was drowning in their ridicule, his humiliation complete and public.

As the boys finally let go and walked away, high-fiving each other, Thomas stood there, trembling, tears streaming down his face. He could barely breathe, barely think. All he could feel was the crushing weight of shame, the knowledge that he had been broken once again, this time in front of the entire school.

And as the laughter continued to echo in his ears, Thomas realized that he was trapped in a nightmare from which there was no escape. The bullies weren’t done with him, not by a long shot. And he had no idea how he could ever find the strength to endure it.

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myeclecticwetdreams · 3 months

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Check it out

completely appealing ...

#hot sexy young guy #bare torso #treasure trail #khakis #belt #gay intrique #gay intentions

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peachespearsandplumbs · 1 month

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#unzipped #zipper #man box #khakis

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fruitcoops · 2 years

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Indecent

What do you do with several smut prompts, an upcoming break, a promise made three weeks ago regarding No nut November, and far too much enabling from your lovely friends? Obviously you write shameless smut.

Welcome to the Nine Days of Nutmas, beloveds. All character credit belongs to @lumosinlove (sorry Hazel).

TW for smut, momentary restraint (hands), and admiration of hockey butt.

“Now that’s just obscene.”

Remus turned sideways and watched himself go red in the mirror. So many side effects of hockey, yet nobody had warned him that a five-year-old pair of khakis would make him look like—like—

“Jesus, I look like Magic Mike,” he muttered, tugging at the too-tight inseam where it had ridden up from the simple act of turning half a degree. The light fabric clung to his legs like it had been spray-painted on, stitches holding on by a literal thread where his thighs touched in the middle. He could see the outline of his quad when he flexed alongside every dip of his knee. And god forbid he turn again, because that was just indecent. Even the slightest bend of his waist felt like a risk.

Remus examined himself for a few seconds longer, then sighed. Another one for the donation pile. At this rate, he wouldn’t have any clothes left by the end of the day.

“Oh.”

His heart leapt and he spun, instinctively grabbing at the front when the inseam gave a threatening pop. “Fuck—yeah, no, I know, it’s terrible.”

Sirius stared from the doorway, hand on the knob, jaw slack, eyes wide. “Um.”

“I figured I’d go through everything before I end up looking like…this…in public.” Remus ran a distressed hand through his hair and turned back to the mirror with a groan. “My ass looks ridiculous in these—do you know how much I liked these pants? This is awful.”

“Um,” Sirius agreed.

“I barely even wore some of these,” he continued miserably. The khakis had been a little treat for his two-year anniversary with the team, something that would be comfortable but still professional. He had kept them in perfect condition for years, and now…Remus frowned at his reflection. He had hoped the change in his physique wouldn’t be quite so severe.

He jumped a little when Sirius’ hands wrapped around his hips and slid down, to the side, then back up until his fingertips brushed the curve of Remus’ ass. “They look good to me,” Sirius murmured just below his ear. His lips brushed the lobe before catching it in a gentle tug; Remus suppressed a shiver.

“You might be biased.”

“Mmm, definitely.”

Goosebumps rose on his arms when Sirius resumed stroking along his outer thighs in long, slow pulls, apparently oblivious to Remus’ pounding heart. He let his head rest on Sirius’ shoulder and sighed when a soft mouth found his throat, nibbling and sucking in all the best spots. “I still have—hmm—a lot to go through.”

“By all means, keep putting smaller clothes on.” He could feel Sirius’ grin on his neck. “You’ll hear no protest from me.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” he muttered. Sirius met him in a kiss before he had finished turning his head and he smiled into it; the hands caressing his waist wandered lower, lower, lower until they were fully gripping Remus’ inner thighs. One moved up. Remus’ knees went weak under him and he gasped into the kiss; Sirius pushed into it greedily. “Bed, loup.”

“Please,” he breathed.

Sirius turned him by the waist and hoisted him up in one smooth motion, eyeing Remus in a way that made his stomach feel shivery and his pants even tighter than before. He tipped him back carefully until the mattress dipped beneath them, Remus’ ankles still locked around Sirius’ lower back, the entire world darkening as Sirius lowered himself onto his elbows and let their hips press together.

“Fuck.”

“Okay,” Sirius said agreeably. He gave a cheeky thrust and Remus choked on a groan, pushing his head back into the pillows. His cock throbbed; he was getting uncomfortable now, halfway to hard, and maybe if he squeezed Sirius’ waist a little harder that would—

RRRIP.

“Oh fuck,” Remus said faintly.

“Oh, fuck," Sirius moaned, sliding down his body without hesitation.

Remus only had a moment to gape at the brand-new hole exposing his left thigh before Sirius grabbed either side of the tear and pulled.

Well. He needed a new pair of shorts anyway.

“Wait, I was gonna—Sirius!”

Sirius bit at the pale, sensitive space that had opened up and Remus squirmed. “You can’t donate things with holes anyway. Take them off.”

“I’m getting there, but I could have repaired it—”

“Take them off or I’m ripping the other side, too.”

I should be embarrassed. I should be intimidated. I should be--I should not be this horny. Remus watched Sirius’ throat bob on a hard swallow. Wide-blown pupils eclipsed most of the silver in his eyes and his breaths came summer-hot and heavy. He wasn’t the captain right now; he was desperate.

Remus met his gaze. “Do it.”

Like a puppy given permission to destroy its favorite toy, Sirius was on him in an instant. Remus laughed at the excitement reddening his pale cheeks and pulled Sirius up by the front of his shirt for a harsh kiss once the other side had been similarly shredded, shoving their hips together as thick cotton rubbed against his newly-bare thighs. Sirius made a needy noise into his mouth and he caught his lower lip between his teeth, then pulled back with a grin.

“Missed a spot.”

The button came free and Sirius yanked the front open with unbridled glee; Remus laughed into his mouth at the pop of the zipper coming apart, lifting his hips like a helpful boyfriend until his knees were free and he could tackle Sirius onto his back. “You’re so fucking hot in your old uniforms,” Sirius panted.

“Not the intention, but I’ll take it.”

“Lube, where’s the lube—”

Remus caught his wrists and pinned them above his head, bringing him to a standstill. God damn, it felt good to be strong. “You wanna fuck me?”

Sirius nodded hurriedly.

“Want me to ride you?”

“Fuck, please, Re, anything—”

“I bet you do, baby,” he teased, grinding back into Sirius’ lap. It drew a frantic, frustrated noise from him, music to Remus’ ears as he tilted his head toward the ceiling and closed his eyes. Every inch of Sirius pressed into the curve of his thigh, hot even through a layer of fabric and almost certainly wet. The relief of being out of those khakis was beyond words. The rush that spiked in him when Sirius’ wrists flexed in his hold was even better. He let one loose and watched Sirius track his tongue when he wetted his lips. “Get the lube if you want me so bad.”

The look Sirius gave him at that promised it would be the last order he gave tonight. I should be worried about that. He wasn’t.

Their clothes came off in a mess of hands and openmouthed kisses, calming only when a slick finger circled Remus’ entrance and made him bury a noise he just couldn’t swallow into the side of Sirius’ neck. He rocked back into it and Sirius gave him what he wanted, one knuckle then two, his free hand scratching lightly over the curve of Remus’ back. A second finger pressed in alongside the first and a punched-out sound escaped him—his brows pitched and he scrabbled for a hold on Sirius’ torso, wheezing a little when a third finger teased his rim before vanishing with the others.

The heel of Sirius’ hand pressed down the back of his thigh and Remus’ eyes nearly rolled at the release of tension. “Sit up,” Sirius murmured with a squeeze to the thick part of his hamstring. His accent was already thicker than honey and just as sweet. “Up, Re.”

A life spent in the dark, warm haven of Sirius’ shoulder didn’t sound too bad, actually. He was smooth and pleasantly soft with relaxation under Remus’ palms, plenty there to knead while he rocked against Sirius’ lower belly to take the edge off. The coarse hair leading along Remus’ favorite path rubbed against his hip and he nuzzled into Sirius’ jaw with a contented hum.

The faint sunlight outside made him grimace when Sirius pulled him up with a firm hand tangled in the back of his hair. "Up," he repeated.

Remus grinned. “Never knew you had a khaki fetish.”

Sirius released his hair and planted Remus firmly in his lap instead. He couldn’t lie—knowing Sirius could lift and maneuver him by his hips alone was kind of hot. “Up. Sit. Please.”

“Woof.”

“Come o--huhn," Sirius gritted his teeth as Remus settled Sirius’ cock rested in his cleft, perfectly placed for a few slow rolls. "Remus."

“I want you so bad,” he muttered. He snatched the lube off the sheets with a trembling hand and reached back blindly to pour some over Sirius’ cock despite the urge to just get up and sit. But he had experience on his side and in the space of one breath and the next, he was sinking down to their tandem exhales. The stretch made his neck heat. The pleasure made him ache. “God, Sirius, just like that.”

Callused hands fumbled at his wrists for a moment. “Give.”

“Huh?”

“Give, wanna hold you up,” Sirius said as he laced their fingers together with a tight squeeze. His cheeks were flushed with desire when Remus looked down again. “Wanna see you work for it.”

Remus rose up on his knees and felt the leverage from Sirius’ hands give him a boost—the next rock down carried more force and they both moaned, raven-black hair spilling over the pillow in messy curls as Sirius tossed his head. He was so fucking gorgeous Remus couldn’t even handle it.

“Want to watch—merde," Sirius hissed, meeting Remus’ faster pace thrust for thrust. “Want to watch you work for it, your legs kill me at practice.”

“Now you know how I felt,” Remus laughed breathlessly. The slap of their skin and Sirius’ choked noises sent lust through every nerve. He was the one making Sirius feel that good and he was the one who would be sore for it later and he got to see that pretty face screw up in pleasure so clear it belonged in a magazine centerfold.

No, came the sudden thought. No, no, that's mine, you don't get to have it. Remus was selfish with so little but that was one thing he would hoard like treasure. He slammed his hips down harder and stayed there in steady grinds, savoring the shout that echoed in his ears next to the fizz of pure pleasure as the head of Sirius’ cock brushed his prostate. Stuffed full and happy, the center of attention under Sirius’ dark gaze—Remus bit his lip and repeated the motion until his vision went fuzzy. When he swayed forward, Sirius pushed him back with the grip on his hands.

“Keep going.”

“Gotta give me one back so I can come—”

“You’ll come like this.”

Remus exhaled but didn��t break pace, even though his muscles had started to burn and his head was getting foggier with the constant pressure of Sirius’ cock inside him. “Tired—”

“No, you’re not, I know how hard you work.”

His whine of protest would have made him blush in another world, a world where he wasn’t close but not there because his bossy boyfriend wouldn’t give him his hands back. Not that he was 100% positive he could hold himself up without the help, but it would have been nice of Sirius to let him try.

“Don’t slow down,” Sirius warned.

“I told you, I’m tired!” Remus could feel his thighs trembling on every push up, like he had done a full round of squats instead of bouncing in his captain’s lap.

Sirius let out a harsh breath through his nose and finally—thank fuck—let Remus free, only to wrap his hands around his hips and pull him down the last few inches. Remus’ gasp caught in his throat and became a garbled mess halfway out. He grabbed Sirius’ wrists, not for restraint anymore, just for something to hold as Sirius brought him back to the rapid pace they had set at the start.

“Don’t try to touch yourself.”

Remus shook his head vehemently. As if he would risk losing the riot rushing through his entire body. “Won’t, I won’t, oh god.”

“You’re so fucking strong now,” Sirius groaned, his thumbs digging in as he yanked Remus closer and snapped his hips up to meet him. Remus watched, openmouthed, as precome dripped onto Sirius’ belly and smudged over the tense muscles there.

“This is not what I thought would happen in those khakis,” he mumbled.

“You underestimate—” A sharp thrust made Remus cry out. “—how much I like your muscles.”

“Jesus, Sirius, please let me come—”

“I’m not stopping you.”

Remus whimpered as the feeling built and gave up on trying to match Sirius’ movements, giving over the reins. Sweat dripped down his temple and cooled on his chest above his racing heart. Every muscle below his waist shook with exhaustion and pleasure, leaving him with only his arms to brace against the sheets on either side while Sirius put him just where he wanted him. There was relief in that. No decisions. No expectations. He could wash his hands of the power and let Sirius get him where they needed to go.

Never in a million years had he hoped for someone who would share like that, yet here he was, so full he could hardly handle it and loving every second. Remus twisted the wrinkled cotton topsheet until his knuckles hurt and folded like a cheap card table, watching come stripe Sirius’ chest from a thousand lightyears away.

Sirius made a sweet, broken sound and tensed; his hands flexed, then relaxed, leaving him to shudder through the aftershocks while Remus rocked gently back and forth to eke out every last drop of the dopamine flooding his system.

When he tipped forward this time, there was nobody to catch him—they collided with a dull oof and a tired laugh, shuffling around in a mess of limbs. Sirius pushed into his hand when he combed it through sweaty curls, smiling softly. “So pretty,” Remus said, stretching until his ankles popped. “Hmm. So bossy.”

“You love when I’m bossy,” Sirius said through a smile as he rolled him onto his back for a deep kiss.

“Sure do, babycakes.”

“Fuck’s a babycake?”

“You. You’re my baby,” Remus explained, nudging their noses together as he snuck around to grab a handful of Sirius’ ass. “And you’ve got cake.”

Sirius snorted, then turned into the pillow to hide his laughter while he wrangled Remus into a crushing hug that left him in ideal range for lazy kisses to the edge of Sirius’ blush. Two drawers of clothing remained in the closet; Remus gave them just enough thought to remember they existed, but then Sirius was nosing along his cheek to capture his lips and he really didn’t care about pants, actually. He cared about the stretch of warm muscles and the hand cradling his face, the faint tremor in his legs and the man who gave him all of it. That was where his thoughts began and ended. Remus was quite alright with that.

Indecent, indeed.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #smut #nutmas 2022 #hot for pt #khakis

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pamwmsn · 2 months

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pinterest.com/osteolala/

#pearls #khakis #sweater

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ivyjivy · 6 months

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#ivy #prep #preppy #style #khakis

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andallshallbewell · 1 year

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#inspiration #fashion #style #chic #monochrome #outfit #neutrals #khakis

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tightywhitieswedgie4567-blog · 2 months

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Wedgie bounce!

#nerd #tighty whities #khakis #hanging wedgie #wedgiebounce

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keyplaid · 3 days

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One afternoon, during free period, they caught Daniel alone near the sports field, far from the watchful eyes of any teachers or prefects. Victor, Liam, and their group surrounded him, cutting off any chance of escape. Daniel’s eyes darted around nervously as he realized he was trapped.

“Hey, Muller,” Victor called, his voice oozing false friendliness. “We’ve been meaning to have a little chat with you. Heard you’ve been telling people we’re ‘bullies.’ That true?”

“N-no, I swear I didn’t say anything!” Daniel stammered, his voice quaking with fear. He took a step back, but Liam was there, blocking his path.

“Too late for that now, crybaby,” Liam sneered, cracking his knuckles. “We just want to make sure you learn a little respect.”

Victor moved behind Daniel with a predatory grin. In one swift motion, he grabbed the waistband of Daniel’s briefs through his trousers. Daniel froze, his breath hitching in his throat. Victor yanked upward sharply, lifting Daniel almost off the ground.

“Let’s see how much you like this, you little rat!” Victor hissed, pulling harder. The waistband shot up, the elastic straining as it dug deep into Daniel’s skin, causing him to yelp in pain. Unlike Simon, Daniel couldn’t hold back. He let out a strangled cry, his hands flailing as he tried desperately to relieve the pressure.

“Yes! That’s it, cry for us!” Liam taunted, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Give us a good show, Muller!”

Daniel’s face contorted in agony as Victor continued to pull, the waistband of his underwear stretching higher and higher, the fabric bunching painfully between his legs. He let out another sob, tears welling in his eyes as the pain became unbearable.

“Please, stop!” he begged, his voice cracking. “It hurts! Please, I’ll do anything!”

Victor laughed, yanking the waistband even higher. “Hear that, boys? He’ll do anything! Maybe we should make him run around like this. What do you think, Liam?”

“Definitely!” Liam laughed, his voice cruel. “Let’s see him waddle like a duck!”

They pushed Daniel forward, his briefs still wedged high and tight, forcing him to stumble awkwardly. The boys laughed uproariously as Daniel, his face a mask of humiliation and pain, tried to walk, his legs awkwardly bent, the fabric cutting into him with every step.

“Quack, quack, little duckling!” Pieter shouted, doubling over with laughter. “Maybe you can fly away from us now!”

Daniel’s sobs grew louder as he tripped, falling to his knees, his hands clawing at his waistband, desperately trying to pull it down. His cries echoed across the empty field, mixing with the seniors’ cruel laughter.

“Look at him!” Liam sneered, his voice filled with glee. “Crying like a little baby. Maybe we should give him a pacifier next time!”

Victor finally released the waistband, letting it snap back against Daniel’s back. Daniel collapsed on the ground, curling up into a ball, his body wracked with sobs. The seniors stood over him, looking down with a mix of amusement and disdain.

“Pathetic,” Victor muttered, shaking his head. “If you ever say a word about us again, it’ll be worse than this. Got it?”

Daniel could only nod, his body trembling, his face streaked with tears.

“Good. Now get out of here.” Victor kicked lightly at Daniel’s side, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to humiliate. “And don’t let us catch you alone again.”

As Daniel scrambled to his feet and ran, his sobs still audible, the boys laughed, high-fiving each other. Unlike with Simon, they had gotten exactly what they wanted—complete and utter submission, the kind that would haunt Daniel for the rest of his time at Dunwood.

For the seniors, it was just another game, another victory. But for Daniel, it was a nightmare that would replay in his mind over and over again.

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