#Backpack - Kinktober 17

[holylulusworld]

Backpack - Kinktober 17

Summary: You've got a new neighbor.

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Warnings: ogling, cocky reader, thigh riding, implied smut

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

You were about to spend your Friday night like every Friday night. The bathtub was waiting for you, along with a glass of wine and a book or your vibrator. Whatever would make you fall asleep sooner?

That was until your eyes landed on your new neighbor. A cigarette dangling from his mouth as he watches you. He puffs on the cigarette, inhaling deeply as you watch him with curiosity.

“Who is that?” You crane your neck to get a better look at the man standing across the street. He flips the cigarette away and nods in your direction. “What is he up to?” Licking your lips, you watch the man turn around. He uses a remote control to open the garage. 

“That’s the new neighbor. I think his name is Teller,” you dip your head to glance at your neighbor, Patsy. If anything happens in your neighborhood, Patsy is the person you go to. She knows everything about everyone. “I think he’s a biker or something.”

“A biker.” Oh, your Friday night just got interesting. Your new neighbor rolls his bike backward out of the garage. “Maybe our little neighborhood gets a bit more interesting now.”

“I hope he doesn’t throw loud parties and lure more bikers in,” Patsy wrinkles her nose as the bike roars to life.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” you tut. Your eyes are glued to your new neighbor’s bike. You always had a thing for bikes. Sadly, you never were brave enough to ride a bike. You always chickened out.

“That monster is loud, and stinks,” she points at the bike. “I will make a note and talk to the other neighbors about that…uh…”

“It’s a Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport,” you roll your eyes as she takes notes. “If you want to complain about it, you should know its name.” 

Two weeks later you’re watching your neighbor again. Watching him became your newest hobby. Whenever he works on his bike or prepares to go on a ride, you watch him.

Today you pretend to water your roses as he rolls his bike out of the garage. All you know about the mysterious man haunting your dreams is his name. Jax Teller. 

You sigh as you imagine becoming his backpack. Your legs and arms slung around his body while you go on a ride with him.

“Maybe I should talk to him,” you say to yourself. If you want your fantasies to come true, you must talk to him eventually. “I can do this.”

Placing the watering can on the ground you take a deep breath.

You’re wearing your favorite summer dress and light makeup. Usually, you don’t wear this kind of outfit at home, but you want to impress your new neighbor.

You cheer yourself up while walking toward your neighbor. He sits on his bike, smoking a cigarette. His eyes are glued to you step toward him and his bike.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, smirking as you put one hand on your hips, and push your tits out. “I’m Jax. Your new neighbor.”

“I know,” you take the cigarette out of his hand to take a puff. You try not to cough, not used to smoking. “I like your bike.”

“Thanks,” Jax grins. He’s got a lot of women fawning all over him and wonders if you are different. “What’s your name? I didn’t get it.”

“It’s Y/N,” stepping closer to his bike you run your fingertips over the handlebars. “Excuse me, but…can I go for a ride?” You look him straight in the eyes, holding his intense gaze as you try not to show that you’re nervous as hell.

“Sure baby,” he grins. “Let me get a helmet.”

“Oh,” you move your hand to his thigh, gently squeezing it, “I didn’t mean the bike.” 

He inhales sharply, but his eyes darken. “You’re a bold one,” Jax smirks darkly. “How about we go on a ride with my Harley, and you can get that ride later…”

Just as promised, Jax took you on a ride. You enjoyed every minute. It was just like you always imagined. Wild, and free.

But your night didn’t end when he drove back inside his garage. 

Jax didn’t let you chicken out. He took you to his home, whispering filthy words in your ear as you tried not to pounce on him right on the front porch.

Now, in his bedroom you watch him sit on his bed as he watches you like a hawk in return. 

“I want you to take off your panties,” Jax demands. He holds out his hand and clicks his tongue when you take too long. “No thinking. Take off your panties and come here.”

His voice raspy voice goes straight to your core. “Okay.” You breathe out as you move your hands under your dress to shove your panties down your legs. You step out of your panties and pick them up.

“Come here,” he pats his thigh. “I want you to go on the ride of your life,” Jax smirks as you place your panties in his hands. He presses the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Your pussy smells so good.”

You make an odd noise. No man ever told you that your pussy smells good. “How? I mean…”

“Take what you want.” Jax points at his lap, but you have other plans. You straddle his lap and grip his shoulder for balance. 

“I wanna ride,” you wrap one arm around his shoulders, “your thigh. It looks so inviting.”

He laughs and throws his head back. “Go ahead, baby. When you are done, I’m going to ride your pussy until you beg me to stop.”

Ignoring his mocking tone, you sit on his thigh and wiggle your hips.

“You’re mine,” you purr against his lips as you try to find the perfect position. 

When you feel comfortable on top of Jax, you slowly start rocking back and forth on his thigh. It feels good, and sinful at the same time. Jax is a stranger to you, but here you are eagerly riding his thigh.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my leg, sweetness. I want you to make yourself cum. Rub that pretty clit,” he breathes against your lips. “Fuck, me baby. Come on.”

“Ah,” you whine loudly as you drag your pussy over Jax’s leg. “Fuck. This feels so good. I’m gonna soak your pants.”

“Do it,” Jax’s breathing quickens. “I want to be a good girl and soak my pants and thigh. I want to smell like your cunt.”

 Jax grips your hips, now guiding your movement to get you off as fast as possible. Your moans turn into cries, and he smirks. 

He knows you are going to be his after tonight. Jax can hardly wait to ruin your pussy thoroughly. 

Tags in reblog.

[andreafmn]

Kinktober ⛓️ Day 3

Word Count: 2.5K Paring:  Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Prompt @kinktober2023: Hate Sex WARNINGS: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI),  p-in-v sex, foul language, reader is technically underage

Summary: There is no one that (Y/N) despises more than Philip Gallagher, but having his brother as her best friend forces them in close proximity more than they would like. Or maybe they do?

A/N: This is set some time during season 3 so Lip is around 18 and reader would be 17 since she's contemporary with Ian's age, so do with that what you will.

<- Previous

“Yo, Ian,” Lip’s voice rang through the house. “Your girlfriend’s here!”

“Oh, fuck off, Lip,” (Y/N) said as she bumped past him into the Gallagher home. “I know you wish I was here to see you, but I don’t do charity work on Tuesdays.” 

“Fuck you, (Y/L/N). You’d be lucky if I was the one you were studying with.” 

“Of course, the genius Philip Gallagher that doesn’t even want to go to college,” she snickered, stopping at the rest on the stairs. “I’ll take my chances with my own brain. Thanks.”  

“You’ll regret helping Ian with math,” he called as he walked to the front door. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

With an exasperated scoff, (Y/N) walked up the rest of the stairs, clutching her backpack tighter than she should have. She didn’t understand why she and the older Gallagher son didn’t get along. She had a wonderful relationship with everyone else in the family –even Frank was courteous enough with her– but something never clicked with Lip. Every time they were in close proximity, they would bicker and fight until someone else got in the way. It made it especially difficult when (Y/N) came over to spend time with Ian. 

She would never say she hated Lip. But the sentiment was close enough that others would notice. Between the terrible side-eyes and the snide comments, being around the two could easily become suffocating. Granted, everyone but them knew what was truly happening. They had met their match in each other but were too stubborn to admit it. 

“You ran into Lip, didn’t you?” Ian chuckled as his friend walked into his room. “It’s all over your face.” 

“Unfortunately, I did,” she sighed, plopping down next to him on the floor. “But he seemed to be going somewhere, so I didn’t have to talk to him for much.” 

“Just long enough to make sure you got annoyed. Perfect mood to study Geometry with you.” 

“Fuck you, I’m always a delight.” 

“Sure. Until you spend a second with Lip, and then everything goes to shit.” 

“Shut up, Ian,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you want me to help you study, you’ll stop talking about your despicable brother, Phillip.” 

Hours passed between textbooks and worksheets, notebooks and loose papers, and somehow the bright afternoon sun had shifted into night. Ian had already gone to bed, tired from a long day of shapes and mathematical equations. Almost everyone in the house had done the same, tucked into bed early, which was a luxury for anyone on the South Side. 

Meanwhile, (Y/N) was still wide awake, taking advantage of the tiredness of the family to use up what was left of the hot water. She could have gone home, to her packed house and probably cold water, but she found comfort staying with the Gallaghers. The family was a melting pot of chaos, there were more fights than a WWE ring, and every single day brought a different kind of adventure. Her house had all of that, except the real warmth of a family. And being there made her feel like she was a part of something. 

The water ran across her skin, soothing the tight muscles that stiffened her body. The smell of soap filled her nose as she lathered herself, and she was glad that the bar seemed new still. They were small luxuries that she was grateful she could partake in every once in a while. And in the quiet of the night, it was almost peaceful.

Until a sound that did not fit into her spa-like scenario filled the air. From behind the curtain, she could hear a strong stream of liquid falling into the toilet. But she knew she had locked the door —not that it would have worked in that house anyway. 

She moved the curtain slightly to reveal Lip standing in front of the toilet. “What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/N) exclaimed, making sure her body was covered. “Can’t you see I’m using the bathroom?” 

“You’re in the shower. Toilet was up for grabs.” 

“Why couldn’t you have gone downstairs?” 

“Because I was already upstairs,” he shrugged, shaking his cock above the toilet as he finished. “Stop gawking, (Y/N). I know it’s impressive, but staring is kind of rude.” 

“Fuck you, Lip. I’ve seen better,” she said, closing the curtain to conceal the way her skin was flushing. “I’ve definitely been with better.” 

“Keep telling yourself that,” he snickered, turning on the sink. “But we both know the guys you’ve fucked are not exactly Adonises.”

“You’re such an asshole, Lip,” she scoffed. “If you’re gonna be here, at least pass me my towel.”

“Why should I? You can just step out.” 

“You’re not seeing me naked, Lip.” 

“It’s only fair,” he chuckled. “You saw mine, I get to see yours.” 

“Stop being a perv, Lip. I’m not one of those chicks you fuck for fun. I actually have standards.” 

“Right, and they’re so high, right?”

“They are.” 

“Is that why you fucked Billy Spencer two months ago or lost your v-card with Jesse Suarez in his car? Yeah, those standards are skyscraping high.” 

In a fit of rage, (Y/N) ripped the curtain open and sauntered out of the tub, getting as close to Lip as possible. “You don’t get to fucking judge my decisions, Philip,” she spat, jabbing her index finger against his chest. “Who I sleep with or don’t sleep with is none of your business. And you sure as hell are one to talk. Your list is not the most pristine, either. Starting with Karen, for example.”

“Don’t you fucking talk about her,” he said through gritted teeth, pushing back on her as she had. “You don’t talk about her.” 

“What? You can dish it out but can’t fucking take it, huh?”

“I can take whatever you fucking throw at me, (Y/N). I ain’t scared of you.” 

“Maybe you should be,” she continued. There was almost no space between them. She had him pressed against the wall, their noses almost touching as they heaved in anger. “There is no one else that can put you in your place like I can, and you know it.” 

“I don’t need you to put me in my place.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’re so fucking infuriating!” 

“Yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?” 

Lip’s next move was a surprise to her. She was expecting him to keep yelling or stomp out of the bathroom. Instead, he placed a hand on either side of her face and crashed his lips onto hers. He was all kinds of rough and forceful, clashing teeth and lips together without any care. But somehow, (Y/N) found herself kissing back just as roughly, grabbing onto the lapel of his jacket. 

But it wasn’t until she felt the roughness of his hands on the skin of her back that she realized she had jumped out of the shower, naked and still dripping with water. She jumped away from Lip as though his touch was fire and scrambled for her towel, trying her best to cover her body from him.

“Why are you covering yourself now?” he laughed. “I already saw everything, (Y/N).”

“Fuck you, Philip.”

“I was gonna let you,” he grinned. “But it looks like you got performance anxiety. Maybe you’re not as good as guys say.” 

“Not that it’s any of your concern, but I’m great in bed,” she argued. “But I would rather do it with someone I actually like.”

“It’s just sex, (Y/N),” he countered. “This is not to fall in love.” 

(Y/N) kept quiet for a beat, thinking over the boy’s request. His reputation for being a good lay preceded him, and she would have been lying if she said she had never thought about it. But the fact that his personality was almost revolting made her wonder if it was worth it. 

“God, you’re so fucking infuriating,” she said before doing the same thing he had done. “This means nothing. You’re just convenient.”

“Right,” he chuckled against her mouth. “Keep telling yourself that.”

“Oh, shut up already.” 

“Make me.” 

Her lips did all the answering, molding to his mouth perfectly, their tongues dancing together in perfect symphony. If she had believed in fate and the alignment of the universe, she would have deluded herself into thinking that they were meant to be. 

Lip’s clothes were rough against her unclothed skin, the zippers and the fabrics scratching at her body and rubbing the most sensitive parts of her body that were exposed. Warmth pooled between her legs with the kiss alone, and her body’s reaction scared her. It was almost instantaneous, and it had been the first time it had happened. 

“It’s not fair that I’m the only one that’s naked,” she said breathlessly.

“Do you ever stop fucking talking?” 

“Not when my mouth’s unoccupied,” she snickered. “And I have a lot to say.”  

“You’re too fucking much,” he grumbled as he took off layer after layer of clothing, letting them fall to the floor. “Now come here.”

He kissed her roughly again, pressing his chest as close to her body as he could, his hands snaking to the small of her back. As their mouth moved in synch, they walked backward until her back was pressed against the wall, the coldness making her skin erupt in goosebumps. But his hands were enough to build a fire inside her. The way they mapped every inch of her body and worked in tandem with his mouth to find her most sensitive spots. 

Lip nipped at her jaw and her neck, traveling down to her collarbone as his hands tweaked the hardened peaks of her breasts. Somehow, he was able to annoy her within an inch of raging ire and could bring her to the brink of orgasm with just his mouth and hands. 

In a swift move, Lip turned (Y/N), bending her against the wall as he pulled the zipper of his pants down. The clothes pooled at his ankles as he held his cock and lined himself up with her wetness, running the head across her fold and teasing her clit. 

“For someone that is just doing this out of convenience, you’re really wet,” he chuckled darkly. “Have you been dreaming about this?” 

“I could ask the same of you, Philip,” she retorted. “Because for someone that doesn’t really care, you’re really fucking hard.” 

“I’m only just a man, (Y/N).” 

“How about you shut up and prove it already, then? Maybe…” 

(Y/N)’s words died in her throat as she felt him sink into her completely, stretching her walls like no one had done before. He took the air out of her lungs, a moan getting strangled in her throat at the suddenness. 

Lip didn’t move instantly, allowing her body to get used to the size. At least, that was what he would have said if she had asked. Truthfully, being inside her was the most overwhelming experience he had ever had. He needed a moment to compose himself before he busted too early. The last thing he needed was for (Y/N) to have more ammo against him. He enjoyed their bickering reparté, but he had quite the reputation when it came to sex, and he wouldn’t let her ruin it. Even if his body was trying to betray him. 

Once he felt he could control himself, he started moving hips, quickly setting a pace that had (Y/N) letting out a string of moans that he wanted to listen to for the rest of his life. Her hands gripped the towel bar before her, her knuckles turning white from the tightness. She met his every move, pushing against him as he pummeled into her. 

“Harder,” she meweled. “Fuck me harder, Philip.” 

Lip did exactly as told. Skin met skin at a rapid pace, filling the otherwise quiet room with pants, moans, and slaps. Even her using his full name did not put a damper on his mood, rather loved the way it sounded in her mouth. And for the first time, it didn’t sound like she was saying it with  hate. At least, not completely. 

He snaked his hand around her body, his hand finding the mound of her clit and pressing two fingers on it. They circled and rolled the bud, making her walls clench around him as he pistoned into her. He knew both of them were reaching their end. The tightening of her cunt and the tightening of his balls told him enough.

“Fuck, don’t stop, Lip. Don’t you dare fucking stop.” 

“I wasn’t planning to.” 

And he didn’t. He kept thrusting until (Y/N) let out a pleasurable yell that had him covering her mouth. As he did, she bit down on his skin unconsciously, making him moan and awakening something in him he didn’t know was dormant. It brought him right to the brink of his end, and it took everything in him to leave her warmth and explode all over her ass. 

His body slumped over hers, absentmindedly kissing the skin of her shoulder as they both came down from their orgasm. They felt comfortable in their silence, their pants synching and their bodies melting against each other. If they could have, they would have fallen asleep in that very position. 

But a knock on the door startled them apart.

“Yo, I need the bathroom,” Carl called from the other side of the door. “I’ve gotta piss real bad.” 

“Can you go downstairs, Carl?” (Y/N) asked. “I’m just finishing up in the shower.” 

“Ugh, fine! Just hurry up. There’s more people in this house, you know?” 

“Yeah, sorry!” 

After wiping themselves down, Lip and (Y/N) started getting dressed, neither meeting each other’s gaze. “We don’t speak about this to anyone,” she finally said. “Especially not Ian. And this can’t happen ever again.” 

“Sure,” he mumbled. “Whatever you say.” 

“I’m serious, Philip,” she pleaded, placing a hand on his chest to get his attention. “If Ian finds out, I’ll never hear the end of it.” 

“I won’t say anything,” he laughed, looking at her in a way he never had before. “But I wouldn’t mind if this happened again.” 

“Are you serious?” 

“What? The rumors are true. You are a good lay.” 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Mr. Gallagher,” she grinned before stopping at the door to exit first. “But I don’t think this will happen again.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, (Y/N).” 

“Fuck off, Philip,” she whispered from the end of the hall before disappearing into the boys’ bedroom, leaving Lip to think of just how he could make this a repeat situation.

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[milkywaydrabbles]

AHHHH!! all your rindou drabbles for kinktober are amazinggg , but that hanma shuji was the best one so far 😩!! can i request a #8,#17, and #37 with my man shuji 🙏🙏!

A/N: I'm posting this from the spirit realm please do not perceive me and the monster of a 4k fic I made for him I didn't mean to ;A; I like him a normal amount I promise. Anyways here's the fic I hope you like mwuahh. I also did the alternate universe of Hanma I'm sure that's not what you were exactly expecting but I wanted to keep it out of the realm of gangs just this once! I still tried to keep him a little mean hehe

Virginity/Orgasm denial/overstimulation x Hanma Shuji

You met Hanma when you went to the same school years ago, and being the shit head that he was, always picked on you for fun. It was never malicious the way it was when he was actively picking fights with other boys in gangs, but it was so fucking annoying you couldn’t help but cry with how frustrated you felt. He’d poke fun at you more, looming over you with how tall he was and just tease you until you stormed off. You remember that well, and definitely not fondly. Eventually you saw him less and less at school, and then he stopped coming altogether. The wave of relief that you felt when you were able to just go about your days in peace and quiet was immeasurable. Over time, and over the years, you thought of him less and less and forget him all the same, graduating high school, going to college, finding a job--Hanma was no longer a presence in your life.

Not until adulthood.

You were on your way home, feet dragging with how exhausted you had been feeling at the end of the week--work was hell, but you were grateful for the next two days off. You just needed to make it home in one piece. Of course that was asking for too much, because when you turned the corner your phone went flying out of your hand when you crashed into a brick of a body in front of you with a gasp. “Oh, shit” You hissed, scrambling to grab your phone with a flurry of apologies spewing out of your mouth. The body didn’t seem to acknowledge you, or so you thought, until you heard your name come out of a foreign mouth in a whisper. You paused, actually terrified now to look at who you bumped into, but looked up anyways--to someone you couldn’t recognize. 

“Shit, it is you.” He breathed out with a laugh, smile appearing on his face. You frowned, brows burrowing up in confusion. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You tried not to be defensive, you really did, but life had turned sour on you at a young age and you didn’t trust any men these days anyways. So you crossed your arms and stood your ground, looking like you were ready to fight at any given moment. The man couldn’t help but cackle, it was like life had slapped him in the face--you weren’t the shy skittish little girl he remembered anymore. You had grown up, fended for yourself, obviously not afraid to get into arguments with men you supposedly didn’t know. He feigned hurt after his laugh, pressing a hand to his chest and jutted his lips in a pout. “Come on, you really don’t remember me? You threw your backpack on me real hard in middle school you know. I think I still have a scar from your book.” Ready to turn away with a middle finger you barely acknowledged what he said, “No I don’t remember....you...” He could practically see the gears in your head turning. “Oh...oh my god--Hanma?” He flashed you a dazzling smile, “In the flesh.”

“Oh fuck off.” You tried storming away, there was no way you had just ran into your middle school bully and he thinks he can just smile at you like you had been besties. You weren’t going to even think about it for the rest of the night, you just needed to get home. Hell maybe he changed, but you weren’t gonna sit there and find out. Not willingly at least, because it turns out he wasn’t ready to end the conversation. “Woah, hey! Come on let’s just talk real quick doll face--” “Excuse me?” The shrill in your voice blatantly told him you were not having it. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Can we talk?” You stopped to look at him--really look at him and holy shit did he grow up. His hair was long to his shoulders, blonde money pieces nicely framing his face--one that was no longer grinning like a snarky piece of shit that you remembered, but soft--eyes almost pleading with you to just give him a chance for the night. And fucking tall--standing taller than six foot you craned your head to look up. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose before answering. “Come on, there’s a bar along the way.”

-

“You’re....so different.” you commented.

He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. You learned he left the gang life behind years ago, and that he was a freelance photographer. You also learned that he made lots of friends from his old gang life that actually stuck, and that one of them recently got married. He told you about his travels, about the time he was in juvie (more than once), about what he did after he left school.

And he told you about how he never quite stopped thinking about you. 

That made you pause your commentary at each remark, unable to take a breath in after the admission. Then you scowled. “You were an asshole Hanma. You know that? You were so fucking mean to me. And you’re saying you thought about me all these years? Ha, thought about what, how funny it was to torment me?” You let your anger flow freely with the help of the beer that was now warmed on the table top. He let you vent, getting out all your frustrations that you were never able to when you were a kid--to scared to know what he would do in retaliation. You thought this was better than therapy (and cheaper too.) When you finished your monologue of how much of a dick he was, you threw back the rest of the beer (gross) and looked at the sticky table. He made no moves to get up, which you were surprised over, instead you peeked up at him through your lashes and saw a man that looked as if he’d been slapped across the face. “I’m...wow. Yeah. I was the worst, wasn’t I?” A humorless laugh left his lips. “I didn’t...and listen, this isn’t an excuse, really it’s not, but I didn’t know how to act. You were the cutest girl in school and I just...I was a prick. Life was shitty growing up, and everyone always said ‘if you like a girl pick on her’. I guess it was too much, huh..” Another laugh. “I’m sorry, I really am. I thought I’d never see you again and now you’re here and I don’t--fuck, I’m sorry pretty girl.” Hanma hung his head in shame, playing with the emptied beer bottle in front of him riddled with anxiety. 

There was too much to unpack in one night. You couldn’t believe half of the things he had even said to you tonight. So you decided to sit with it for a while. You excused yourself quietly, after (attempting and failing) to pay for your drink. “I...I have to go, Hanma.” He sighed, understanding enough anyways--it was a long shot for you to ever forgive  him. But then your phone appeared in his line of sight, opened up to a new contact page with his name already up. His eyes shot up at you, hopeful, and took your phone without a pause to write in his number, he might have also changed his name just a bit, adding a heart at the end of ‘Hanma’ , so dry. You rolled your eyes at that, mumbling ‘don’t push your luck’, but kept it anyways. 

-

For the next few weeks (months?) Hanma had integrated himself heavily into your life. You texted him every day, called just as much, and even met up with him for food or drinks a handful of times as your schedules permit. It was odd, having this bond form with someone you used to despise. But it’s not healthy to hold onto grudges like that. Especially from such a young age, and you knew he was really sorry, especially since he admitted to you night one that he had a crazy crush on you. So you let it go over time, and started seeing Hanma shine with his annoying personality again. And once he came out of his shell, really, he acted almost the same. Snarky, making faces, overly cocky like he couldn’t be beat. But he was softer now, and you found it endearing, especially when he’d come to your rescue. You’d be waiting for him to show up at your usual bar spot and be cornered by a man who was too drunk to look at you properly but was still in your face. “Come on, pretty. What’s your name huh?” You scoffed, leaning away from him as you grabbed your drink and covered the top. “Fuck off, dude. Not here for you.” You’d hear the drunkard grumble something about you being a bitch and before you were able to turn to look at him again and tell him off, you saw a tattooed hand grip his shoulder. “What was that?” Hanma leaned down to get in his face, toothpick in between his teeth as he waited. 

“Fucking--nothing, dude, get off me.” Before you knew it the drunk was knocked on his ass on the floor and Hanma was shrugging it off, telling the bartender “He’s too drunk to be here, can we get him out?” with a shrug and a smirk when he was dragged off by security (as if Hanma wasn’t the one to shove him). You breathed out a giggle and smiled, thanking him for the save--and silently calming yourself down. He looked...good, turning back into his intimidating self when it wasn’t directed towards you. You wouldn’t mind seeing him like this more often, especially to your defense. You shake off the feeling and continue on with your conversation as you always do, though you’re distracted with the way he pushes his hand back, and how his veins in his hands look, and how--

“Hey, you good?” 

You blink, startled and looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Unfortunately for you, Hanma has been getting too comfortable around you now. “What, see something you like?” He cooed, dipping his head lower to meet your eyes, voice now to a whisper. You fidget away, drink long forgotten as you try to remember how to breathe again, furrowing your brows. "I don't think I want to be here anymore." It was his turn to frown. "Hey no I'm sorry, I was joking—" "I'm hungry. Do you...wanna just grab takeout and go to my place?" Silently he nodded, dumbfounded that you had invited him over. It felt like an unspoken rule–he wouldn't ask if he could go over, knowing the answer would be 'no.' You weren't ready for him to invade your space like that. But after all this time, after close to six months of non stop talking and relearning each other it felt like the most natural thing in the world for you to ask. Even if you were a little nervous about it. And so you (he) paid your tab and left.

–

The two of you sat comfortably on the floor of your living room, eating from shared plates and having mindless movies on in the background as conversation continued. "Thanks for letting me over, doll–not gonna lie I was getting tired of always going out to a bar." He teased, laughing when he felt you shove him a little with your shoulder. "Be grateful, Hanma." You rebutted with a smile. 

"Shuji."

....

"What?"

"Come on, we’ve been talking for months now. You can’t just call me Shuji? Not just once?” 

You placed your chopsticks down, that fuzzy feeling coming back into your stomach the same as when you stared at him earlier. Could you call him Shuji? Did you think you were close enough to do that? He was so different than the Hanma you knew all those years ago, but somehow the same–still poking fun but now it felt good, the teasing and the taunting was reciprocated–maybe even building up to something else, that you had refused to unlock. “Come on pretty girl,” the name made your head spin and your face get hot, and him leaning in closer to you didn’t help. Hanma brushed your cheek, thumbing at your skin when he cupped your face, “just once. Just call me Shuji, please.” Your breathing hitched, eyes dropping down to look at his lips, and when you looked back up at him you noticed he’d done the same thing. “...You’re being so stupid, Shuji.” Your voice was barely heard above the sound of the TV. He chuckled, lips brushing against yours, “yeah well, you know what they say–love makes you stupid.” You closed the gap that barely existed to begin with, hands latching on to the front of his shirt as Hanma invaded your senses. 

The kiss was dizzying, overwhelming, too much– everything and everywhere all at once. But you couldn’t find it in you to care, not when Hanma had been such a constant in your life recently, not when he admitted to loving you. You could practically feel the cockiness come flooding back, Hanma smiling into the kiss and nipping at your lower lip, easily slipping his tongue in after you granted him access. He’d taken over quickly, hand on your cheek pressing the back of your head deeper into him and the other trailing around your waist to pull you close. He had you straddling him, and you still were trying to keep up with the kiss. “Sh-Shuji, wait, h-hold on.” You broke free enough to speak if only for a moment, but he continued with the kisses down your jaw, and neck, and nipping at the juncture of your shoulder. “What’s wrong, pretty girl?” Fuck, his voice dipped low–the gravely sound was shooting straight down to between your legs. It was hard to breathe, he wasn’t letting up enough for you to tell him, but you needed to, you needed to–

“I’m a virgin.”

Hanma immediately stopped his ministrations, the sound of the TV turning more into white noise than whatever was going on. When he didn’t speak, you felt the need to explain. “I just, I don’t know–don’t fucking laugh, I don’t know what’s going on in your head.” You huffed, embarrassed. “I just...was never interested in hookups. And everyone fucking sucked, so I never...”You trailed off, looking away when Hanma tried to meet your eyes. He cupped your face so sweetly, small smile on his lips as he did so. “Look at me, baby.” His fucking petnames were going to kill you. But you listened anyways. “We can stop, or we can just make out–doesn’t matter to me as long as I have my hands on you.” He snickered and you wanted to smack him. You thought about it too, but you don’t think you’d find anyone better than Hanma.

You loved him, too.

“I don’t want to stop, Shuji.”

He didn’t need anything else after that.

–

“Aah, fuck, Shuji y-you’re being mean again.” You whimpered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Hanma had your legs open around his waist, working his fingers deep into your virgin hole. It’s already been twenty minutes of him slowly working you open, curling two of his fingers in your cunt and pushing up against that squishy part of your walls that had you climbing up to your orgasm–only for it to never come. Hanma kept fucking stopping. He’d feel how your walls started to clench and twitch around his long fingers, and the absolute bastard would only snicker and pull them out, slapping them lightly against your clit. “Aw, sorry baby–Just can’t get enough of how you look.” He teased, devil horns practically growing on his skull. This was the Hanma you remembered from middle school, and it seems his sadistic torture moved from taunting you at school to taunting you in your own bed. But you don’t think you cared too much, not now. Not when you saw the love in his eyes. Slowly, Hanma pushed in a third finger, a hand coming down to push you into the mattress and keeping you still. “Gotta prep you, doll–don’t want it to hurt, right?” And you don’t think it would, you had toys, it wasn’t unknown territory, but you kept your mouth shut anyways when he looked at you like that, eyes devouring you. His pace quickened, pumping his thick fingers in and out, in and out, until he saw your nose scrunch up and your mouth open–whining and crying out as you climbed closer and closer and closer to your impending orgasm. You could feel it, and you spread your legs just a bit more to give him more space, eyes rolling to the back of your head–

And then he pulled out.

“Shuji!” You were so frustrated, tears flowing freely now with how angry you were feeling. You were ready to start telling him off, until he grabbed your jaw and loomed over you with such authority it made your skin crawl. “If you don’t stop me now, baby doll, I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.” His aggressive tendencies never really went away it seemed, even after leaving the gang life behind you had such a grip on him it made him crazy. “Tell me no, and we’ll stop.” He waited a beat, squeezing a bit more at your jaw expectantly. You simply stared at him, stars in your eyes as you looked up at the man. 

“Keep going.” 

Throwing caution to the wind, Hanma kept the hand tightly on your jaw as his messy fingers slipped back into your weeping cunt, finger fucking into you harder and faster than before, all three curling up back into that gummy part and not letting up this time. Your mouth hung open with the pressure he kept on you, moans flowing freely out–you babbled, repeating his name until it all just jumbled together in messy cries. You tried to keep your eyes open but the pressure building up so fast was dizzying. Your eyes rolled back, bordering screaming as he fucked into you. He said nothing, just kept staring at your face of pleasure as you finally descended into your orgasm, crashing over you in waves and not stopping. Your juicy pussy was splashing him, fingers slipping over to rub over your clit just as quickly. Your orgasm hit you like a fucking train, lower body spasming as he kept you at that high. “Too much, too much Shu–too much!” your legs were aching to close, and he let up just enough to let you get away, smacking your pussy twice before. 

Hanma leaned down kissing your throat after letting go of your jaw, whispering against you “First it was not enough, now it’s too much.” He taunted, nipping at your skin before kissing up to your lips again. Even when he was being mean again, he pet your head and wiped away your tears. “You sure you wanna keep goin’ pretty?” You hiccupped, taking the time he’s graciously given you to take a breather, and nodded. He smiled like the devil himself and planted a harsh smooch right on your lips before moving back, lining his cock against your wet folds. “Y’ready, baby doll?” Another nod. He pushed in.

“Ah fuck, Shuji–s’big.” you gasped, arching your back in the pleasure and slight pain you felt. You couldn’t stop yourself–he was big, though you knew you were feeding his ego when you heard a laugh tumble from his lips–deep in his chest. “You’re okay, baby–gonna stretch you out nice on my dick.” He started moving slow, and you swore you could feel each vein as his cock stretched your walls around him. His movement was deliberate, passionate, like he was making sure your pussy would be molded to only take his cock for the rest of your life. Though even if he told you so, you’d openly admit you’d never be able to be with another man after him. As he felt you loosen enough to move freely, he fucked into you faster, leaning over onto his forearms–dropping his forehead to yours, hair forming a curtain around the two of you. “You waited for me, baby? Waited so I could take your virginity, right?” He spoke nonsense and you both knew it. But fuck, he felt so good inside of you, you couldn’t help but let him hear exactly what he wanted. “Waited for you, Shuji–wanted to give it to you.” You were able to barely get your words out before he groaned above you, humping you like a dog in heat. “Fuck, baby doll–pussy’s so fucking tight.” His jaw tightened as he got the words out, angling himself to feel you cum around him again. “Wanna feel you cum, baby, come on, give it to me.” his hips slammed against yours, wicked pace stealing your breath. Silent screams escaped you, gasping and crying when you came around him again, and he relished in the feeling of your abused cunt clenching and twitching around him. “There we go” He breathed out a laugh, kissing your tears as they fell. 

Hanma only let up enough to get his hands on the backs of your thighs and push them up to your chest. He was fully over you now, continuing to pound into your swollen pussy. “Shujiii” You whined, nails clawing at his wrists but unable to move him. At this angle he kept hitting all the right spots and you needed him to slow down. Yet the only word that would spill from your mouth was his name, like a silent prayer or mantra. Your third orgasm of the night came quickly, messier than the first two–your juices splashing on his thighs as he kept fucking into you. Folding in half you had no power to stop him, only able to take the pleasure that was bordering on painful with how quickly he was making you cum with no breaks. “Come on, pretty girl, come on.” Hanma was far gone, pupils blown out with lust–mumbling to himself more than to you, bed creaking underneath you with his strength. 

He maneuvered your thighs to be pressed against your chest with one arm, his now free hand finding your swollen clit and pinching– your screams and moans filling the room as your fourth orgasm felt like a house of bricks being dropped on you. You covered him in your juices, his cock now covered in a frothy white layer that webbed and stuck to the both of you. Even as he let go of your clit, Hanma was still chasing that high–so close to getting off. He wrapped his free hand around your jaw, covering your throat and shoving his thumb into your mouth. “Look at me baby.” He ground out, just to see your fucked out face eyes all teary and glassy. Your mouth was upturned in a slight smile, completely cockdrunk. It was enough to push him over the edge and still deep inside you, shooting his thick load in your abused hole. 

Silence filled the air, and slowly Hanma let go of your face and your legs, pulling out and hissing when he felt his cum dribble out with him. “Fuck..don’t think I’ll ever stop dreaming about that.” He laughed, and laughed harder when your weak hand slapped his shoulder. He dropped his weight next to you, collecting you in his arms with a kiss to your temple. “How you feelin’ baby doll?” He whispered, and you hummed, snuggling deeper into him. “Good. Sore. Always so mean to me.” You teased, feeling yourself off into sleep. He smiled at your temple and let you drift into slumber, at least for now–he’d have to clean you up. 

Until then, he reached over to your phone and finally changed his name in your phone, keeping the heart but replacing his surname with ‘Shuji’.

[agentwhiskeysdarlin]

A Look Out On Forever

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NC-17 18+

Warnings: so much tooth rotting fluff, camping (or glamping truthfully) fun, domestic bliss, smutty good times, oral (female receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, this is just so cute 

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Notes: Welp another little archived fic for you guys. This was orginally suppose to be a kinktober fic for sleepy sex but I decided to shelf it after writing what was posted. I thought this would be a good very cute, fluffy, fun and smutty fic to share. Plus who doesn’t love a cute engagement fic. Thank you to @clint-aww-no-barton​ as always. Thank you all for your continued support. I hope the spark for writing comes back soon so I can write new things for all of you. I have one more archived fic coming and it’s a heart shattering fic you will need tissues for so linger in this one as long as you can. 

ao3 link

  The world opened up in front of you in the most breathtaking view. Snow capped mountains and the greenery of trees mixed together. The clouds seemed to play with the peaks, dancing along them. The sun was currently hiding but it still held it’s place high in the sky. You had made perfect time. A gentle hand rubbed up your back, seconds after you placed your backpack by your feet. You looked up, seeing Jack looking out at the view as well.

  “It’s beautiful,” you spoke so softly, the words seeming to disappear right off your lips.

  “It truly is. We made it just in time for it to be our view for lunch.”

  Jack spoke and you broke into a small smile looking back up at him, gazing into his eyes. He turned fully as his other hand cupped your right cheek, and he brushed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss but you could feel the hunger behind it all the same. You smiled up at him, sighing at the contentment you felt in this moment.

  You and Jack had been together for three years now, and in celebration you decided to go camping. You had made a list early on, when you knew Jack was it for you, of activities you wanted to do with him. When he took some time off from Statesmam and asked what you wanted to do, camping had been the first thing out of your mouth. Although Jack’s idea of camping was a bit different than yours. He had insisted on bringing his RV and after bickering with him for days you let the man win.

  “Let’s sit and eat,” Jack spoke, before his hands were gone and he was pulling his own backpack off.

  You pulled a blanket from your pack and spread it out over the rocks, far enough from the cliff edge to be comfortable, but the view still perfect. You and Jack had split the load, and you both pulled things out until you had a full spread in front of you. The two of you ate your sandwiches in blissful silence, just taking in the world around you.

After finishing lunch, the two of you fell into easy conversation, moving closer to each other. He made you laugh and every single time you looked into his eyes, you could see the love that shone in them. He gave you butterflies, just as he always had. You let your eyes move back out over the ledge, noting the sun was slowly starting to move down behind the mountains.

  “We should probably get back while we have plenty of light.”

  Your voice held a sigh, not wanting to leave. You stood and so did Jack, gathering your things up.

  “Hang on darlin’,” Jack spoke and you turned to him.

  He was looking at you and the look on his face made your stomach clench.

  “Jack what’s wrong?”

  “I…I hadn’t completely decided to do this until we came up here and I saw the look on your face. I knew then that I had to do it now.”

  “Jack?” You stared, confused, as you watched him.

  The man fell to one knee in front of you and your heart stopped. Your hand went up to your mouth muffling your gasp.

  “I knew the second I laid my eyes on you, that you were it for me. It took a lot for me to work everything out, after what happened in my past, but I knew without a doubt you were the answer to everything. I love you more than words could ever express, and I wish you would do me the honor of marrying this ol’ cowboy.”

  “Jack Daniels…I want nothing more in the world,” your words choked up as the tears started, and a smile so wide it could have broken your face spread over your lips.

  Jack lit up at your answer, quickly slipped the beautiful ring he had been holding onto your finger. Your brought your hand up to look it over. It wasn’t anything massive, just a simple diamond on a silver band. It was perfect. This moment was perfect. Jack stood and you watched him, before you all but threw yourself at him and the two of you kissed deeply. Then Jack had your feet off the ground and spinning you in a quick circle. You let out a giggle, before your feet landed back on the rock under you.

  “Let’s head back fiancé,” Jack smiled big and you knew that would be your new pet name until he could officially call you wife.

  You were perfectly okay with that. He took your hand, after slipping on your backpacks, and you started back down the trail to the RV.

  The sun had painted the sky such beautiful colors, that you and Jack couldn’t stop from finding another small clearing, to see another version of the view you had just left. It was so beautiful but you couldn’t linger long. The two of you made it back to the RV with just a bit of light left in the sky.

  Jack opened the door for you and you stepped inside, taking in the coolness of the small area. It wasn’t massive, just big enough for a bed, a tiny bathroom, a kitchen and a small table that folded up. It was perfect for the two of you though. You slipped your backpack off, feeling the exhaustion hit you suddenly.

  “I’m going to go shower.”

  “Alright darlin’,” Jack kissed your forehead and let you go.

  After the two of you had quick showers, you crawled into bed with heavy eyes. Jack came after you, crawling over you, his lips brushing over yours. At first it was a soft kiss but then Jack deepened it, his hips brushed against yours. You let out a sigh against his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck with lazy arms. After awhile he finally pulled away, and you were met with lust blown eyes.

  “Jack how do you even have it in you to do this?” You laughed with a horse voice.

  “It’s you darlin’. The effect you have on me. Plus, we need to celebrate.”

  “I’m so tired,” you whined softly even though you could feel that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach.

  “I am too darlin’ but we can have a little quicky can’t we?”

  The pout he gave you made you giggle, and shake your head, but he already knew he was going to win this.

  “Alright fine, fine.”

  He did a small victory shimmy that made you throw your head back laughing. When your eyes fluttered back open slightly, you were met with that look that sent butterflies through your stomach. Jack’s head dipped and his lips fell to your neck. Gentle kisses trailed down your body, clothes being discarded as he went. Until he settled between your legs. He looks so relaxed as he dipped his head and sent you spinning.

He knew how to use his mouth and within seconds he had you moaning, head back and your fingers threaded through his brown locks. Then you pulled, signaling him to stop before he is back up your body, taking another path back to your lips. When they fall to yours, you taste yourself there and moan, the feeling of sinking into the mattress washing over you.

  Jack’s clothes are gone between kisses and then he entered you. He thrusted much faster and harder than you thought he would and flipped you over. He positioned you flat on your stomach, the blanket under you brushing deliciously on your clit, as he fucks you from behind.

  “Jack I’m close,” you whimper out, turning your head.

  “Just a little longer angel,” he groans and his thrusts become sloppy.

  He brings you up against his chest as he keeps going, one arm holding you up and the other snaking around to rub at your clit.

  “Cum with me angel,” his voice is deep and gruff in your ear and you fall apart.

  The world disappears and nothing else is left but you and Jack. He keeps going, working you both through your highs, only stilling long enough to empty himself inside of you. He says sweet things in your ear, and you come down sleepily sated. He’s gentle as he removes himself and lays you back down.

  “Let me get something to clean you up with darlin’. Stay awake just a little longer for me,” his speaks to you in a hushed tone, a kiss pressed to your temple before he’s gone.

  He returns to find you hanging on to the waking world by a thread. He’s soft as he cleans you, before settling you both under the covers. He pulls you to him and with one last kiss to the forehead, he deems it time to sleep with a sweet goodnight. The last word you hear before slipping to blissful sleep is “fiancé.” You don’t stop the small smile that plays on your lips as you slip into dreams, that are in no way better than the life you are living.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl​ @arcadianempress​ @discogrrl​ @immundusspiritu​ @someplace-darker​ @thisis-theway​ @ohpedromypedro​ @scribbledghost​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @princess-and-pedro​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @littlevodka​ @all-hallows-evie​ @mack4676​ @perropascal​ @audreyshepbvrn​ @mswarriorbabe80​ @kaqua​ @novemberrain221​ @weasleywinchester​

[eddieeatsass]

Pocket Sized - Kinktober 2019 Prompt: Micro/Macro

Summary: Richie comes home to find Eddie sitting on his bed, only, there’s something horrifyingly different about him. Pairing: Reddie Rating: E Warnings: Smut, explicit language Disclaimer: This was given to me as a prompt for Kinktober, as something out of my comfort zone to challenge myself, so I hope I did it justice. I've never even read a micro/macro fic before, as it's not really my thing, but I had a lot of fun with this. Also, this is my first time ever writing something that takes place in the canon world, so let me just take a moment to say FUCK PENISWISE. (also in this fic even when pennywise is in hibernation or whatever, he's still able to terrorize derry in various ways, so... just go with it)

Read on AO3

If living in Derry had taught Richie anything, it was to not be surprised by the sheer weirdness of the going-ons in their town. By the age of 17, so many inexplicable circumstances had wrapped their claws around Richie and dragged him through the mud that he’d have permanent dirt stains on his soul forever.

Things had certainly settled down in the years since him and the other losers had faced Pennywise; a child-eating clown had its way of making other things look small in comparison, but there were still moments when Richie’s spine shook with the frightening reminder that Derry was not a normal town. Like when he’d catch a glimpse of a headless man driving by him on the highway, or when spiders crawled out of Mary Gretsky’s ears in homeroom.

In all the Derry weirdness he’d encountered, however, what was before him was horrifying of a whole other variety.

 “E-Eddie?” Richie stuttered out, still unbelieving what his eyes were telling him. Upon his bed, settled on his pillow like a chocolate truffle at a hotel, was what appeared to be a miniature sized version of his best friend.

A voice responded, familiar, but pitched higher than normal. Richie had to get closer to hear what it was saying.

“Yes it’s me, you idiot. What, do your glasses suddenly not work?” The small Eddie squeaked with a smirk on his lips.

Richie considered it for a second. Could it be his glasses causing this… absurdity? Maybe if he took them off, blinked, and squinted really hard, Eddie would be back to normal. Blurry, but back to normal. He tested the theory, only for Eddie to turn into an out of focus fuzz, now even smaller than before. Richie readjusted his glasses and sighed, admitting defeat to the strangeness that had introduced himself.

“Well excuse me for being a little surprised when I walk into my room and find my tiniest friend has shrunk to an even tinier size.”

“I did it for you… you don’t like it?” Eddie pouted.

“I- you- what?” Richie’s head reeled with the inability to understand all the impossible things developing around him, a pressure creeping itself behind his eye sockets.

He blinked, and suddenly found himself sitting on the bed. He didn’t remember sitting down… didn’t remember walking across the room or dropping his backpack on his desk chair. Yet somehow his environment had changed as if a scene cut in a movie.

A small tickle on his hand brought his attention back to the present. He looked down and saw Eddie was sitting in his palm, idly playing with one of his fingers in curiosity.

“What do you mean you… did this… for me? How- and- and why?” Richie raised Eddie to eye level, holding his hand flat so Eddie stayed cradled within it.

“I know you think about me.” Eddie giggled, as if delighted he’d discovered a secret that Richie hadn’t told anyone. Richie felt his throat begin to close and his ears ring hot.

“You think about how small I am, how big your hands are when you splay them across my back to steer me in the hallway or steal my drink from my hold when we’re at lunch.”

Eddie was reading Richie like a book, a book that Richie himself didn’t even read for fear of indulging in its sinful contents. How had he… how could anyone have known? Richie kept these feelings locked up deep inside; didn’t even dare write his feelings down in a diary, too worried the homophobia around him would materialize into a monster capable of reading and spread all of his dirty thoughts to the world.

“I thought you’d like it even better if I was smaller.” Eddie finished.

When Richie looked back down, he found Eddie completely nude. There weren’t clothes strewn about, it was as if they’d just vanished, as if Eddie had never been wearing them in the first place.

Eddie was smaller alright. In fact, he couldn’t have been bigger than seven, maybe eight inches at most. Richie wanted to laugh at the fact that miniature Eddie was still bigger than Richie’s dick by a couple of inches, though he’d never admit it to anyone.

“Come on Rich, don’t you wanna touch me?” Eddie goaded, tugging on Richie’s thumb impatiently as if he wasn’t giving him enough attention.

“Eds, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Something really weird is going on and I- you’re not yourself right now-”

“I’m better.”

“No, you’re-”

“No one will find out this way, Richie. You can touch me as much as you want, and no one will ever know. I’m the easiest secret to hide; small enough to fit in your pocket.”

Richie knew something was wrong, could feel it creeping up his spine and nudging at the back of his head. But he’d wanted this for so long, had repressed these feelings and thoughts and wants for years… it was hard to deny this little moment of pleasure.

Holding his one hand still, he lifted his other with shaking fingers, but paused halfway when he realized he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Sure, he’d jerked his own cock before, but he’d never… and Eddie was so small now… how was he even meant to…

Eddie smiled calmly, a calm that should have been reassuring, but churned Richie’s gut with nerves instead. Eddie turned over in his palm, getting on all fours and holding on to Richie’s index and ring finger to keep himself steady. What presented itself to Richie was a beautiful sight; two round cheeks spread to reveal a hole so small it looked more like a beauty mark than anything.

Richie finally decided on bringing his finger up and running it down Eddie’s back. Light goosebumps erupted on that tan, freckled flesh, and it caused the same reaction on Richie’s skin as he swallowed thickly.

Repeating the motion, he ran his finger down Eddie’s back, but this time let it slip down between those cheeks that held the promised land Eddie seemed to be offering.

“Fuck…” Richie breathed heavily, just noticing for the first time how hard his cock was in his own pants. He’d been too caught up in the weirdness of it all to think about how undeniably hot this was.

“You don’t have to be so gentle with me, Rich. I’m not gonna break.” Eddie teased, arching his back a little farther. Richie didn’t quite believe him, took in how tiny he really was and thought it impossible to touch him without wrecking him… but wrecking him sounded pretty good, if Richie was being honest.

 Richie brought his hand up to his mouth and darted his tongue out, just once, testing the waters as he lapped at Eddie’s entire backside before pulling away.

Eddie moaned surprisingly loud for such a small body, petering off into a whine as he was pulled away from the wet heat.

“Do that again.” He begged, pulling on Richie’s fingers like they were controls to a machine.

So, of course, Richie obliged. And then again. And then a few times more until Eddie had sat up on his heels and began fucking himself on Richie’s tongue. The tip of it slipped between Eddie’s legs and provided friction for his cock and balls, while the brunt of his tongue stood in as a makeshift chair, on which Eddie writhed like he was on fire.

Richie, meanwhile, was trying to undo his pants one handed, which proved to be a feat harder than it sounded. He imagined it was probably a hilarious sight, his tongue hanging out of his mouth, drooling into the palm of his hand, while his other struggled to get a simple belt undone.

Once he’d finally freed his ruddy cock and gotten a hand around it, Eddie was crawling off his tongue and situating himself on his back, legs spread lewdly in a way that framed a tiny cock of his own. It almost didn’t look real, looked like it might have been molded from clay within a thimble, but the sheen of pre-cum that coated the head proved otherwise.

“Fuck me, Richie.” Eddie said, reclining even further against where he rested against Richie’s fingers.

Richie had to squeeze the base of his cock to keep from cumming immediately. Surely, he couldn’t, there was no way Eddie’s body could take it-

“I can take it.” Eddie answered, as if reading Richie’s mind through his trepidation.

Richie inspected the area, noting that Eddie’s cock, thighs, and ass were all literally dripping with saliva. In fact, he was sort of laying in a small puddle of it, though he didn’t seem at all bothered. Richie wondered if he should still grab the lotion he kept on his bedside table, just in case they needed extra lubrication, but then Eddie was writhing again and ushering the thought to the furthest corner of Richie’s mind.

“Please- Richie- I need you-”

“Right, yeah of course, uhhhhh-”

Richie looked down at his own weeping cock, and then around his room frantically, as if he would be able to find something to help him out. A third hand maybe? He finally settled for laying across his bed on his stomach, pillow under his chest and hips pressed firmly against his soft bed sheets. He propped himself up on his elbows, so both of his hands were in front of him. From this angle, it looked a bit as though he was acting out a puppet show. If it weren’t for the pulsing reminder of the adulthood between his legs, he’d almost have slipped into memories of playing with childhood toys.

With expert precision, Richie eagerly lined his pinky finger up with Eddie’s entrance. From up close, it looked more like a tiny rose bud, puckered up invitingly and fluttering every time Eddie moaned, needy and desperate. Richie swallowed once, held his breath, and began gently pushing against the ring of muscle.

To Richie’s shock, it opened with zero resistance, almost sucking Richie’s finger in until he hit the first knuckle. Now, Richie didn’t know much about bodies, or sex, but he knew from the whispers he’d heard under the bleachers at school that “taking it in the ass hurts” and “queers enjoy the pain”. So, suffice to say, this seemed abnormal. But then again, what wasn’t abnormal about your best friend shrinking to the size of a doll and begging to be fucked.

“More.” Eddie moaned, trying to shift himself down further on Richie’s smallest finger. The sight was obscene in the most intoxicating way.

Richie pushed a little and watched as Eddie’s body took him to the second knuckle. Eddie’s lower stomach bulged, and it made Richie grind his hips down into his mattress with an intensity he’d never felt before. God, he felt nauseous and lightheaded and dizzy but so delighted, drunk off Eddie’s cries, spurred on by his encouragements.

Eddie’s hole slid up and down his finger with ease, fitting him like a ring. Richie didn’t have to do much moving, much like with his tongue earlier, Eddie was happy to take control and fuck himself down on to Richie’s hand. Richie was thankful, honestly, because with his current level of arousal, he wasn’t sure if he could focus on much more than rutting into his bed.

“So good- fuck- so small, Eds-” Richie’s tongue was heavy in his mouth, his words slurring out between his lips without permission.

“See? Doesn’t this feel good, Richie? Letting go, giving in to the darkness.” Eddie’s voice didn’t seem to match his body, floating by almost as if whispered by the wind. It made the hair on Richie’s body stand on end, but he was too far gone to care.

Eddie’s small frame was clenching around Richie’s pinky, giving warning to his oncoming climax.

“Rich- Richie- fuck, Rich!” And with a cry that rang almost eerie, Eddie was convulsing in Richie’s palm. His toes, no larger than jellybeans, curling in on themselves, as his torso buckled over and he clung around the base of Richie’s pinky finger to steady himself.

He composed himself shockingly quickly, sitting back up, still impaled on Richie’s finger, as if he hadn’t just had the life fucked out of him. His eyes locked with Richie’s, and with urgency, he asked Richie something that would forever be seared into his mind.

“Cum on me.”

Richie’s hips stuttered from where they’d been rhythmically humping himself closer and closer to the edge.

“Fuck…” Was all Richie could say before he was scrambling up on his knees, bringing the palm of his hand that held Eddie just under the head of his cock, and began pumping himself with the other.

It didn’t take long, maybe all of five seconds for Richie to be pouring into his own hand, watching as Eddie’s body was completely coated in the white, sticky mess. Something yelled in the back of his mind, reminding him ‘Eddie would hate this! Eddie would think this was unclean!’ but he ignored it in favor of watching the fantasy play out right before his eyes. It was too tantalizing not to.

Once all the shocks had wracked his tall frame, and he’d gotten as much out of his spent cock as he possibly could, Richie collapsed onto his back. He held his hand, and subsequently his cum covered Eddie, above the mattress, avoiding more of a mess than necessary. He let his eyes drift shut for a moment, his head spinning with thoughts of what just happened, and what comes next.

 Richie reopened his eyes a moment later, clarity starting to come back to him as if he’d just woken up from a dream. He sat up, prepared to discuss the inevitable, when he found his hand empty, bar for his own cum. Feverishly, Richie’s eyes darted around his bed, his desk, his bookcase, even peered at the window, but there was absolutely no sign of Eddie anywhere.

“… Eddie?” Richie whispered into the empty room, his heart clenching when there was no reply.

Had… he imagined all of that? No, there was no way, it had been too real.

His phone ringing from across the room caused him to jump out of his skin, darting over to it before the rest of him could even respond. He had the receiver pulled to his ear so fast his cock was still hanging out of his pants. He tucked it away shyly and grabbed a tissue to clean up his hand while greeting whoever was on the other line.

“Now, didn’t IT feel nice?” A voice sang from the other end of the line, a voice not unfamiliar, but not easily placeable. It was a little rough, and high pitched like an adult trying to mimic a child. The voice had odd inflections, kind of drawn out but not in a dull or drowsy way.

“W-what?” Richie found himself stuttering out of fear, then immediately chastising himself for becoming big Bill over a measly phone call. He cleared his throat and retried, this time making sure to puff out his chest in a faux display of confidence. “What?”

“I said, didn’t it feel nice?”

Richie froze. A new voice, one he knew like the back of his hand.

“Did… what… feel nice…” Richie asked cautiously.

“Wow, okay, your diet of coke and licorice really has made you brain dead. I said, didn’t it feel nice to have real energy, instead of the sugar high you’re always running on?  I can try and get my mom to pack me extra salad tomorrow too, but only if you promise not to spit the pieces of carrot back into my container again.”

Richie vividly remembered what Eddie was referring to. Earlier at lunch, they’d shared his salad since his mom had packed him too much, and Richie, as per usual, had packed 5 dollars in a paper bag along with a can of soda. What he couldn’t remember, however, was how he’d gotten on the phone with Eddie in the first place. Had he been here long? His head felt foggy, his thoughts turning to molasses when he tried to wade through them.

“Eds, did you call me just to talk lettuce?” Richie pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning his elbows against his desk and hunching forward.

“Uh, you called me… Rich, what’s going on?”

Panic rose up like bile in Richie’s throat, and it’s the panic that caused him to ask what came next.

“Were you in my room earlier?”

The silence was tense as he waited for an answer.

“What are you talking about?” Eddie asked slowly, the humor in his voice verging on anxious, like he felt he was being left out of a joke.

Richie sighed, slumping lower in his chair and letting his hand fall from his face.

“Nothing, never mind.”

“Okay, weirdo. Anyway, Bill wants to meet up at the Quarry tomorrow at noon. He said to bring your swimming trunks and any snacks you can smuggle out of your kitchen without your mom noticing. I think Beverly is bringing chips, and Ben mentioned something about chocolate Ding Dongs-”

“Do you wanna go to the movies instead?” Richie asked, bravery manifesting from sheer lack of caring. In the last hour, his emotions and cognition had been pulled apart in so many directions and squished back together like silly putty; he just couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. What was real, what wasn’t, it didn’t matter. He wanted to take Eddie to the movies, so he was going to ask. Simple as that.

“Uhhh, sure, but we’ll have to call everyone tonight and try and get them to change their minds.” Eddie answered, not fully sold on the idea but always one to hop on alongside Richie regardless.

“No, Eds, I mean just us.”

“But Bill-”

“Screw Bill. Can I take you to the movies or not?”

The rephrasing was bold, removing any doubt in Eddie’s mind of what Richie’s intentions were. It took a while for Eddie to answer, almost too long, long enough that Richie was about to begin back tracking when a small squeak interrupted him.

“Yeah.”

Richie’s heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t expecting this, or, well he hadn’t been expecting anything really. His courage had been fleeting and now he was quickly deflating under the pressure of following up.

“Y-yeah?” Richie confirmed, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously.

“You gonna pick me up on your bike? Let me ride on your handlebars?” Eddie teased, managing to diffuse some of the tension they both felt from this unspoken agreement to tip toe into dangerous waters together.

“That’s not the only thing I’ll let you ride.” Richie quipped.

“Goodbye, Richie.” Eddie snapped with no real bite. Richie could picture the roll of his eyes that would mask the small smirk hiding behind those features, an action he loved.

“Bye, Eds.” Richie answered into the receiver, though the line had gone dead.

Distantly, Richie thought he could hear laughter, unhinged and maniacal, but as quick as it came it disappeared, replaced once again with the dial tone.

[holyluluslibrary]

Library reblog

Backpack - Kinktober 17

Summary: You've got a new neighbor.

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Warnings: ogling, cocky reader, thigh riding, implied smut

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

You were about to spend your Friday night like every Friday night. The bathtub was waiting for you, along with a glass of wine and a book or your vibrator. Whatever would make you fall asleep sooner?

That was until your eyes landed on your new neighbor. A cigarette dangling from his mouth as he watches you. He puffs on the cigarette, inhaling deeply as you watch him with curiosity.

“Who is that?” You crane your neck to get a better look at the man standing across the street. He flips the cigarette away and nods in your direction. “What is he up to?” Licking your lips, you watch the man turn around. He uses a remote control to open the garage. 

“That’s the new neighbor. I think his name is Teller,” you dip your head to glance at your neighbor, Patsy. If anything happens in your neighborhood, Patsy is the person you go to. She knows everything about everyone. “I think he’s a biker or something.”

“A biker.” Oh, your Friday night just got interesting. Your new neighbor rolls his bike backward out of the garage. “Maybe our little neighborhood gets a bit more interesting now.”

“I hope he doesn’t throw loud parties and lure more bikers in,” Patsy wrinkles her nose as the bike roars to life.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” you tut. Your eyes are glued to your new neighbor’s bike. You always had a thing for bikes. Sadly, you never were brave enough to ride a bike. You always chickened out.

“That monster is loud, and stinks,” she points at the bike. “I will make a note and talk to the other neighbors about that…uh…”

“It’s a Harley-Davidson Dyna Super Glide Sport,” you roll your eyes as she takes notes. “If you want to complain about it, you should know its name.” 

Two weeks later you’re watching your neighbor again. Watching him became your newest hobby. Whenever he works on his bike or prepares to go on a ride, you watch him.

Today you pretend to water your roses as he rolls his bike out of the garage. All you know about the mysterious man haunting your dreams is his name. Jax Teller. 

You sigh as you imagine becoming his backpack. Your legs and arms slung around his body while you go on a ride with him.

“Maybe I should talk to him,” you say to yourself. If you want your fantasies to come true, you must talk to him eventually. “I can do this.”

Placing the watering can on the ground you take a deep breath.

You’re wearing your favorite summer dress and light makeup. Usually, you don’t wear this kind of outfit at home, but you want to impress your new neighbor.

You cheer yourself up while walking toward your neighbor. He sits on his bike, smoking a cigarette. His eyes are glued to you step toward him and his bike.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, smirking as you put one hand on your hips, and push your tits out. “I’m Jax. Your new neighbor.”

“I know,” you take the cigarette out of his hand to take a puff. You try not to cough, not used to smoking. “I like your bike.”

“Thanks,” Jax grins. He’s got a lot of women fawning all over him and wonders if you are different. “What’s your name? I didn’t get it.”

“It’s Y/N,” stepping closer to his bike you run your fingertips over the handlebars. “Excuse me, but…can I go for a ride?” You look him straight in the eyes, holding his intense gaze as you try not to show that you’re nervous as hell.

“Sure baby,” he grins. “Let me get a helmet.”

“Oh,” you move your hand to his thigh, gently squeezing it, “I didn’t mean the bike.” 

He inhales sharply, but his eyes darken. “You’re a bold one,” Jax smirks darkly. “How about we go on a ride with my Harley, and you can get that ride later…”

Just as promised, Jax took you on a ride. You enjoyed every minute. It was just like you always imagined. Wild, and free.

But your night didn’t end when he drove back inside his garage. 

Jax didn’t let you chicken out. He took you to his home, whispering filthy words in your ear as you tried not to pounce on him right on the front porch.

Now, in his bedroom you watch him sit on his bed as he watches you like a hawk in return. 

“I want you to take off your panties,” Jax demands. He holds out his hand and clicks his tongue when you take too long. “No thinking. Take off your panties and come here.”

His voice raspy voice goes straight to your core. “Okay.” You breathe out as you move your hands under your dress to shove your panties down your legs. You step out of your panties and pick them up.

“Come here,” he pats his thigh. “I want you to go on the ride of your life,” Jax smirks as you place your panties in his hands. He presses the fabric to his nose, inhaling deeply. “Your pussy smells so good.”

You make an odd noise. No man ever told you that your pussy smells good. “How? I mean…”

“Take what you want.” Jax points at his lap, but you have other plans. You straddle his lap and grip his shoulder for balance. 

“I wanna ride,” you wrap one arm around his shoulders, “your thigh. It looks so inviting.”

He laughs and throws his head back. “Go ahead, baby. When you are done, I’m going to ride your pussy until you beg me to stop.”

Ignoring his mocking tone, you sit on his thigh and wiggle your hips.

“You’re mine,” you purr against his lips as you try to find the perfect position. 

When you feel comfortable on top of Jax, you slowly start rocking back and forth on his thigh. It feels good, and sinful at the same time. Jax is a stranger to you, but here you are eagerly riding his thigh.

“Yeah, fuck yourself on my leg, sweetness. I want you to make yourself cum. Rub that pretty clit,” he breathes against your lips. “Fuck, me baby. Come on.”

“Ah,” you whine loudly as you drag your pussy over Jax’s leg. “Fuck. This feels so good. I’m gonna soak your pants.”

“Do it,” Jax’s breathing quickens. “I want to be a good girl and soak my pants and thigh. I want to smell like your cunt.”

 Jax grips your hips, now guiding your movement to get you off as fast as possible. Your moans turn into cries, and he smirks. 

He knows you are going to be his after tonight. Jax can hardly wait to ruin your pussy thoroughly. 

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