#David Harbour smut

[spermeboy]

DIRTY BOSS.

pairings: david harbour x male reader

summary: male reader's boss wants to see him in his office for a very private and 'informative' meeting.

requested by: anonymous

warnings: SMUT, anal sex, spit, slapping, rough sex.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" You say in a soft tone as you make your way into his office. "Yes! Perfect, you're exactly who I wanted." He replies to you. "Please take a seat," he says, gesturing to the seat next to him. You pull out the seat and sit down comfortable, noticing that David can't take his eyes off you. "I'd like to offer you a promotion," he says with a small smirk on his face, and the tone makes you think there is some underlying cause.

He leans down to come close to your face, "but...to get the promotion we need to fuck" he whispers into your ear and his hand slowly creeps down to grip his crotch before slowly unbuttoning his suit trousers and letting his cock flop out. "Get that ass out, boy," he says seductively as he lifts you up and bends you over the desk. He pulls down your trousers, exposing your bare ass to him, he lets a string of spit drop out of his mouth and onto his cock.

David wastes no time, by shoving his spit covered cock into your hole, pumping slowly letting you get use to his length. His grip on your hips tightens as you slowly calm down and loosen your tight asshole ring, "f-fuck me." You say seductively, allowing him to have free reign over you hole. He slowly pulls out and thrusts back in getting used to the feeling of your hole gripping his cock.

"I've been waiting for this." He groans out as he begins to pick up the pace after he gets used to the feeling, David pushes your face against the desk as your moans grow louder and louder. The fucking goes on for forty-five minutes before he finally pulls out and shoots his load all over your bubble butt, your cock spurts out cum hands-free hitting the front of the desk running down it.

David wipes his tip against your hole and pushes his cock back into his suit trousers buttoning himself back up, "you were perfect, your raise will be on your desk tonight" he whispers in your ear before walking out of his office and signing out to go home. You lay there contemplating about what you've just done for a raise and you know what... you don't care.

taglist - @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronaaaaaaa @irlsamcarpenter

[sargebarnesx]

Sweetness

Pairing: Jim Hopper x unnamed female OC

Rating: 18+ ONLY

Warnings: unprotected sex, semi-public sex, dirty talk, pining, spanking, Hopper's thighs in jeans (felt that this deserved to be here), little bit of instalove/lust

Word Count: 4.4k

Summary: Jim Hopper could use a little sweetness in his life.

Author's Note: I’ve been working on this for forever but edited it pretty quickly so I apologize for any mistakes!

Monday

The bell over the door rang lightly. He looked out of place in the small bakery, the tan colors of his uniform contrasting with the baby blues and baby pinks adorning the walls. His eyes scanned over the various pastries, cookies, and cakes, sitting pretty in their cases underneath cozy lights.

“Good morning, how are y-oh hey Chief! How are you this morning?”

She emerged from the back room, wiping her hands on a white towel. Her hair was pulled back in a clip but she had loose strands sticking to beads of sweat on her forehead. Bits of flour were sprinkled among a smattering of freckles.

Jim Hopper raised a hand in greeting. “I’m good, honestly just hungry. Thought I’d stop by and see what you had available this morning.” He stepped closer to the counter.

She swiped her towel over her face before tossing it on a back counter. “We have muffins, croissants, bagels, donuts. We also have a small coffee bar. Any of that sound good to you?” She met his gaze from behind the counter, a good foot shorter than him. Her apron was tied twice around her waist, emphasizing her full hips. He noticed that the same freckles that decorated her face also covered her hands, arms, and chest.

“A coffee and a…” he trailed off, leaning back to eye the other case, “Blueberry muffin please.”

“You got it, Chief,” she turned away to grab a paper bag.

He had known her for a while; he remembered her from high school but she was younger, maybe a freshman while he was a senior. Her parents were an integral part of Hawkins, the owners of a sandwich shop down the road.

He felt she had barely changed over the years, other than the fullness of her figure, the length of her hair, the warmth in her eyes. He recalled her younger brother’s recklessness, his run-ins with the law. She wasn’t anything like him, at least not to his knowledge. Jim couldn’t imagine the person who ran a place like this had any interest in being reckless.

“Here you go,” her voice pulled him from his thoughts and he glanced up to see her holding a coffee cup and a paper bag out to him. “How much do I owe you?” He asked, reaching for his wallet. She shook her head, “It’s on the house.”

“No way, let me-“

“It’s on the house,” she repeated softly, “Happy Monday, Chief.”

Jim smiled in thanks, taking his items from her. She smiled back as he retreated towards the door and back to his Blazer. He pinched a small piece off of his blueberry muffin on the way to the station.

It was the best muffin he had ever tasted.

Tuesday

She blew out a breath, nearly dropping a tray of bagels on the counter. It was 7:45 am, and Kimberly, her opener, was supposed to have been here fifteen minutes ago. She had been here since 3 am and frankly, her arms were tired and her back hurt. She really didn’t want to work all day but it was looking like she’d have to. She had planned to leave at 9:00 am when her other staff members were scheduled to arrive but such is the life of a business owner.

She hurriedly finished setting up her cases, taking note of what needed to be done that day. Hawkins was a small town but she was lucky enough to be a local favorite. She had made countless birthday cakes for the children of her former classmates, baked bread that would be sold at her parent’s sandwich shop, and catered desserts at the Hawkins High reunion every year. Baking was her passion but going to a doctor’s appointment and taking a short nap before returning to the bakery in the afternoon was taking precedence today.

She could hear a car pulling in and she hoped it was Kim, better late than never. She started walking to the door but hesitated when she saw him.

Jim Hopper was here.

Again.

She opened in exactly one minute and Jim Hopper was parked in a spot right outside her door, patiently waiting. As she stared at him, she noticed Kimberly walking quickly across the street. She unlocked the door and pushed it open as the young woman babbled, “Oh my goodness I am so sorry I’m late, I will stay late today to make it up to you, I am so sorry.”

“That’s fine,” she murmured, following her inside, “Can you refill some coffee supplies, please? I didn’t have the chance to yet.” “Sure thing!” Kim replied, grabbing handfuls of supplies and carting them over to the small table in the corner. She started her trek to the back when she heard the bell over the door ring.

“Good morning!” Kimberly called and she heard Jim give a gruff “morning” in response.

“Fancy seeing you here, Chief,” she said, leaning onto one of her cases.

“I won’t lie, I haven’t stopped thinking about that blueberry muffin I had for breakfast yesterday,” he admitted sheepishly, “And please, call me Jim.”

She was silent for a moment while she took in his appearance. He looked…tired. Stressed. She imagined that working as the chief of police wasn’t an easy job, even in a small town like Hawkins. And she knew that he had been through a lot in the past. Even with the slight discoloration under his eyes, she couldn’t deny that he was attractive. Honestly, she was harboring a small crush on him and had been for years. He was tall and strong, and she had always been fixated on his hands. They were large, with long fingers. She imagined he was the type of man who had rough, callused hands that would feel absolutely delicious dragging across her skin. She’d never tell him that, though.

“Alright…Jim,” she said with a smile, “What would you like today? Another blueberry muffin?”

His eyes scanned her case, “I’m thinking…a blueberry muffin and a banana nut muffin. And a coffee, of course.”

“Sure thing,” she reached for a white paper bag while her opener asked him about his coffee preference. God, now she couldn’t stop thinking about his hands. And his beard. And his mouth.

She needed to stop.

Her cheeks were no doubt stained pink, she could feel the heat rising to them. She felt a hand on her arm. “You alright?” Kimberly asked, holding Jim’s receipt in her other hand, “Can I have his bag please?”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry!” She folded the bag closed and handed it over. Jim was smirking on the other side of the counter, “Got a lot on your mind?” She chuckled, “You have no idea. I hope you enjoy your muffins.”

Jim nodded, “Oh, I know I will. That chocolate donut is catching my eye too though.” He pointed at one of her favorite desserts, a chocolate-frosted donut with sprinkles.

“I love those,” she said, “But they’re really sweet, maybe a little too sweet for breakfast.”

“Eh,” Jim shrugged, “I could use a little sweetness in my life.”

Wednesday

Hopper had a crush.

He was a 44-year-old man and he had a crush.

He couldn’t get her off of his mind. Her soft hair was always sprinkled with flour. Her eyes, the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever seen, surrounded by long, dark lashes. Her smile was framed by full, luscious lips. He thought about her first thing in the morning, thought about her making him blueberry muffins in nothing but his t-shirt while he got ready for work. She crossed his mind at lunchtime, distracting him from his paperwork with her puzzling looks and skilled hands. And at night, when he laid in bed alone with his cock squeezed in his fist, he would think about her naked and on her knees, with those sweet lips wrapped around his length.

Fuck.

He needed to see her again, but the phone was ringing off of the hook and the paperwork was piling up on his desk. There was no way he could make an excuse to take a mid-day trip to her bakery.

Unless…

Jim tossed the stack of paper he was rifling through onto his desk and stood abruptly. He grabbed his keys and his hat, placing the latter atop his head before walking out of his office. “Anybody up for some donuts?” he asked, not even stopping for an answer, “I’ll be right back.”

Powell and Callahan looked at each other in awe over a massive stack of folders between them. “Eh, at least we get donuts,” Callahan lamented, shrugging.

Jim made it to the bakery in record time. He eagerly reached for the door handle in the Blazer before he paused.

Relax.

He climbed out of the Blazer and walked coolly to the door, pulling it open. He heard the bell ding overhead.

“Good afternoon, Chief Hopper!”

It was the young girl who was working with her yesterday morning. She was nowhere to be seen. Hop nodded at the girl behind the counter. “Uh…” he started, “Can I get 2 dozen donuts, please?”

“Of course!”

Hopper tried his best to be inconspicuous as he looked above the young girl’s head into the kitchen. He didn’t see her anywhere. “Do you have a preference on which donut you’d like more of, Chief?” the girl asked, showing him a half-filled box. “Let’s get more of the chocolate iced with sprinkles,” he said, pointing to the remaining donuts in the display.

“My favorite.”

There she was. She must have come in from a back door because he hadn’t heard the bell ring. She was wearing a dark blue spaghetti-strap dress. It had scalloped edges, an eyelet design, and stopped just above her knees. Her hair was down from her normal ponytail and she was wearing a bit more makeup than usual. She carried an empty tray.

“We have more in the back to refill the case, Kimberly,” she mentioned to her employee passively while keeping her eyes on him, “I’ll check him out.”

“I’m sure you will,” he thought he heard Kimberly mumble under her breath as she closed the donut boxes and handed them to her. They stood facing each other now, with only a register in between them.

“Treating the guys at the station to some donuts?” She asked, punching in a few numbers on the register. Hop nodded, “Yeah, I couldn’t stop thinking about them, so…”

Was he crazy or was the tension between them thicker than ever right now?

Jim eyed the outline of her dress, tracing the skirt down and then back up to her waist, noting the cinched fabric creating the most tempting slope, the perfect place for his hands. She watched him and yet he didn’t stop. Her skin was glowing with moisture from the summer heat and he imagined what it would taste like if he licked from her collarbone to her jaw. He imagined that she tasted like buttercream frosting and the thought made his cock half-hard.

“Definitely haven’t stopped thinking about them,” he repeated, meeting her eyes with a smoldering gaze. She grabbed his donuts and walked around the counter, holding them out to him. When he took them, his fingers brushed against hers.

“Thanks, Sweetness,” he murmured, a sly grin playing across his features, a playful glint in his hooded eyes. Her eyebrows knit together and she smirked, “Sweetness?” He didn’t respond, just winked at her as he took the boxes and pressed the door open with his backside.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” She called after him, but the door had already slammed shut.

Thursday

Sweetness. He had called her Sweetness.

And he came to the bakery three days in a row. There had to be a reason.

She had known Jim for a long time, considering they had both grown up in Hawkins. She remembered when he was a young boy leading the pack, she remembered when he would smoke cigarettes under the bleachers and she would hear rumors about his flirtations, his skill as a kisser. How he’d trailed his hands under skirts in the backs of classrooms. She remembered when she came back from college and he came back from Vietnam, when he got married and had his daughter. She remembered the tragedy of his loss and the way it affected him. But she was always an outsider, a spectator, and honestly, an admirer.

He had been so handsome throughout every stage she had known him, especially now. His thick, sturdy, strong body towering over her, his beard with the beginnings of salt and pepper growing in. She always stared at his arms, his thighs, wondering what they felt like. Those strong arms wrapped around her, reaching down to grope at her ass. His thighs were a perfect seat for her to grind her desperate pussy on, while she dug her nails into his shoulders, his growls shaking her entire body.

“My God, you are so into him,” Kimberly’s voice broke through her daydream.

“Wh-what?” She stuttered, grabbing at frosting bags to keep her hands busy. Kimberly smirked, crossing her arms and leaning against the door frame. “You are so into the Chief,” she replied, “It’s obvious.”

“Kim, are you serious? I don’t know why you would think-“ she broke off when she noticed Kimberly’s look of doubt. Her cheeks turned an intense shade of red and she hid her face with her hands. “I am totally into the Chief,” she finally admitted.

Kimberly clapped her hands and squealed, “I knew it! You’ve been looking over at the door every hour to see if he’s coming in again today.”

Kimberly was right. The older woman’s eyes had been glued to the door all day, almost like a magnet was drawing them together.

“Can you blame me? He’s come in every day this week! I can’t help expecting that he’ll come in today too,” she explained, piping a border onto the small cake in front of her. Kimberly grabbed a coffee cup and a black marker and held them out to her, “When he comes in, you should give him a cup of coffee on the house with your number written on it.” She looked at Kimberly with apprehension, “You don’t think he’d see that as juvenile?” Kimberly shook her head, “I think he’d love it.”

She put down her piping bag to take the cup and the marker. Kimberly smirked again and left her to her own devices to tend to the front. Would Jim like that, her number written on a cup of coffee? She couldn’t help but think they were too old for these games but maybe he’d find it…endearing.

She heard the bell ring. “Oh, hello Chief Hopper!” Kimberly announced way too loudly to be casual. She would have to reprimand her for that later. But it was now or never. Make a move or regret it. She quickly scribbled her number on the side of the cup and once she knew it was dry, she pressed that side against her palm and walked towards the coffee bar.

His eyes were on her as soon as she stepped into view. “Hey,” he greeted, handing Kimberly a few dollars without even looking at her. She smiled in response and began filling the cup. “I’d been wondering if we were going to see you today,” she said, pressing a lid onto the cup. He chuckled, “Here I am.”

The coffee cup felt scalding hot against her skin, “Coffee on the house?” She offered it to him and knew immediately that he would refuse. “I can’t let you do that, please let me pay,” Jim reached for his wallet, fisting his pastry bag in the other hand. She held up a hand. “Jim, please,” she held it towards him once more, “It’s on me.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment and she could’ve sworn his eyes flickered to her lips before meeting her own again. He was in jeans today instead of his normal uniform - jeans that hugged his thighs and his ass in just the right way. God, she wanted him so bad. Wanted to feel those taut muscles under her hands, wanted to feel the brush of his beard on her skin. Could he tell that she was fantasizing about fucking him right in the middle of her bakery?

Kimberly cleared her throat, which seemed to break both of them from a trance. Jim wrapped his hand around the coffee cup and the sudden loss of warmth was jarring. “Thank you for the coffee,” he said, raising it like he was toasting to her. She nodded, “Thank you for stopping by.” And just as quickly as he had arrived, he was gone.

“Did you even notice the other customer that was here while the two of you were making goo-goo eyes at each other?” Kimberly asked, punching numbers on the cash register.

“Nope,” she replied, rounding the counter and smirking at Kim, “Also, you should work on that whole ‘being casual’ thing.”

Friday

The number on his cup told him everything he needed to know.

He was going to make his move. Tonight.

He’d wear some jeans - she couldn’t take her eyes off of him yesterday when he had shown up in his relaxed-fit jeans. He’d wear cologne - nothing too heavy, just a little something to complement his natural scent. Whatever that was. Coffee and cigarettes? Women he’d been with before usually told him he smelled like a real man, so maybe she’d like it too.

It was 7:15 pm - her bakery closed in 45 minutes. He would make it there in ten minutes from the cabin. His palms were sweaty against his steering wheel, but he blamed that on the summer heat, not nerves, as he navigated the downtown streets.

He parked, noticing a lack of cars out front. Perfect. He could see her through the door as he approached. She was sweeping, wearing her usual apron, blouse, and loose jeans combo. Her hair was down, swaying with each brush of the broom. He pushed the door open and she turned at the sound of the bell.

Her cheeks tinged pink as soon as she saw him. “Hi Jim,” she said softly, leaning the broom against the closest table. “Hey Sweetness,” he replied gruffly, walking towards her, eyeing her up and down as he did so.

When their eyes met, it was like they were locked, and neither of them had enough willpower or want to find a key. Her eyes were warm, like a cup of coffee with a swirl of creamer. My God, she was so beautiful. What he wouldn’t give to trace his fingers along her cheek and brush his lips against her jaw. And fuck, he wanted to run his tongue down her neck to that expanse of skin that was exposed under her v-neck shirt.

“Something on your mind?” She questioned softly, her eyes flicking to his mouth. He nodded, “Yeah-“

But at that moment, he was surprised by her sudden movement to press her lips on his.

Jim didn’t hold back. He gripped her soft hips, pulling her into him, against his already hard cock. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, feeling her jaw move against his palm as she opened her mouth to welcome his greedy tongue.

“Jim,” she murmured against his mouth, groaning as he latched his lips to the skin of her neck and slid his arms around her waist. “I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Jim admitted, his face still buried in the crook of her neck, “Everything I wanna do to you.” She nodded in agreement, “Me either. I want you…want your cock…fucking hell, Jim, I need you.”

He chuckled, sinking his teeth into her soft flesh, then placed a trail of kisses up to her mouth. She opened her eyes then, meeting his blue ones.

“For someone so sweet, you sure do have a filthy mouth.”

With that, he picked her up, kissing her again until their legs met the counter. He placed her there, nestling into her warm center, his cock pressing tightly against his zipper, desperate to be inside her. Her hand was on his dick immediately while they kissed, palming him and squeezing him over his jeans. “Oh fuck, hold on,” he gripped at her wrist as he breathed deeply, “Don’t wanna cum in my pants.”

Her lips were on his neck now, undoubtedly leaving deep purple marks. “Where do you wanna cum then?” She whispered in his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Jim grabbed her chin, “Maybe this pretty little mouth. Or that wet, hot pussy I haven’t been able to stop thinking about.”

She spread her legs further and slid her hands into his back pockets, “Please fuck me, Chief. Right here, right now.”

Hopper growled in triumph, “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He pulled at the button on her jeans, ripping the zipper open with it. She pushed her pants down her legs and over her little white sneakers, all the way to the floor where they landed with a soft thud. While he was unbuttoning his jeans, he couldn’t tear his eyes from her panties - they were soft cotton in the palest shade of blue. He’d never seen anything more sexy.

“Can’t wait to fuck you, Sweetness.”

She bit her lip as she looked up at him, watching his face as the cool air in the bakery finally hit the burning hot skin of his cock. He could tell she wanted to touch him, to put him in her mouth, but all that would come later. Right now, he knew she needed him deep inside her.

He hooked two fingers onto her panties, “You wet for me?” She nodded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him close. He wrapped his fist around his cock, lining it up with her entrance before thrusting inside her.

Fuck, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever felt this way before. Her pussy gripped his cock so tightly, so perfectly, like they were made for each other. He wasn’t going to last long like this. He wanted to rail her, rail her right here in her place of business on a Friday night, and make her cream all over his cock. Then he wanted to take her home and prepare a hot bath for her, then bury his tongue between her legs in his bed. Then on Saturday…

He wanted to take her to the diner for breakfast.

He wanted to curl up next to her on the couch for an afternoon nap.

He wanted to watch her put on her favorite dress and curl her hair and take her out to dinner.

Jim would do all those things. But right now, he was going to make her cum.

“Ugh fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned, reveling in the obscene sounds coming from where the two of them met at their center. She was breathing heavily, whimpering with every deep thrust. He trailed his hand up under her blouse to squeeze her tits - another thing he’d have to give extra attention to when he could get her in his bed.

“Tell me how I’m making you feel, Sweetness. Baby, tell me how much you love this cock,” he was moaning in her ear, his climax building. He could feel her pussy clamping down on him with every writhe of her hips. She nodded, “Feels so good. Fuck, I love the way you fill me up. Better than I ever imagined.”

“Can I bend you over this counter?” Hopper asked, wanting nothing more than to have his hands on her ass. She nodded, gasping when he pulled out, leaving her empty. When she was bent over in front of him, he swept her panties down her thighs, using both hands to roughly grope at her ass. “Fucking sexy ass,” he muttered, smacking both cheeks in quick succession. She moaned, shuddering against him. “Harder,” she requested, “Please.”

He brought his hand down again, harder this time, and she jumped as it connected with her ass. Her skin turned red immediately and he rubbed her gently before doing the same to her other side. Hop placed a kiss on each cheek before he gripped her hips and pulled her back onto his cock.

“You feel even better - like this,” she choked out against a whimper. Jim could only smirk and continue to fuck up into her. He wanted to cum with her, feel her climax soak him at the same time he painted her insides with his own.

“You close, Sweetness?”

She nodded and Jim pushed harder, each drag of his cock bringing them that much closer to satisfaction. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her up against him, “Wanna see that pretty face when you cum.”

Her eyes were trained on his and her nails dug into his sides. He was so fucking close.

Her breath hitched in her throat and she squeezed her eyes shut as her orgasm wracked through her body. He brought her left arm around her waist and his right hand to her face, kissing her as he exploded.

They trembled together, taking a moment to allow the pure bliss to course through them. He held her tightly until she turned in his arms. “I need to sit down,” she admitted sheepishly. Jim grinned as he walked her to a seat, making sure she was secure before he retrieved her pants.

“That was…the hottest thing I have ever done,” he told her as she pulled her pants back on. She giggled, “Honestly? Me too.”

Jim fixed his clothes and checked his watch, “Do you need this door locked? You’ve been closed for the last 45 minutes.”

She nodded, “Yes, please. We’re lucky no one came in.”

Jim clicked the latch on the door to a locked position, then met her in the center of the room, where they had started that night. He reached for her and she stepped into his outstretched arms, resting hers on his shoulders while his encircled her waist.

“Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

He could barely get the sentence out before she gave him the best possible answer.

“Yes.”

[darlingsfandom]

Jim hopper hitting that spot no man ever has

Big Daddy Jim 🥵

"Hi honey!" You grinned ear to ear as Jim stepped inside the door, tossed his keys on the coffee table and hung up his jacket. He gave you a half smile while pulling out his pack of cigarettes. He walked up to you and kissed your forehead before plopping down on the couch with a groan. "Long day daddy?" You gave him a slight pout as he motioned for you to come over.

You sat down on his lap and straddled him. Jim brushed your cheek with the back of his hand before he lit up his cigarette and blew the smoke away from you. "Do you wanna fuck me daddy? Let some stress out?" Your fingers toyed with the buttons on his shirt and Jim nodded his head .

"Honey... I always wanna fuck ya.... ya got such a tight cunt. No matter how many times I fuck ya... it's always so tight for me." He took another hit before he had you stand up. "Now be a good girl, bend over the coffee table and show me that ass." He gave you a quick spanking before you did as you were told.

You hiked up your night gown as you bent over the table and wiggled your ass at him.

"Fuck! That's my good girl! And what's this hmm?" His hand ran over your ass cheek slowly. "No panties? You really wanted me to have a good night after work didn't you ?"

"Yes daddy! Wanted to be ready for you to use !" You looked over your shoulder as you felt him grope your add tightly. Jim put out his cigarette before he got on his knees, spread your cheeks and licked a long fat stripe up your pussy with the flat of his tongue which made you lunge forward a little. "Daddy!" You gasped at the feeling of his tongue.

Jim wrapped his arms around your thighs , pulled you closer and inhaled your scent before burying his tongue deep inside your folds. You could hear him lapping up the wetness and slurping on your folds which only made you wetter as you reached between your legs to rub your clit, but Jim slapped your hand away. "Don't you fucking dare! This is my pussy to play with!" He growled a little before getting right back in there. His tongue lapped at your juices faster making you whimper and your thighs shake. You felt him chuckle into your pussy because he knew you were close. Jim pulled away and flipped you over.

"Spread your legs honey." He spanked your thighs before he undid his pants. You laid against the coffee table with your legs spread up and open. Your hands held your ankles as Jim dropped his pants, spit in his hand and jerked his fat cock before pushing the tip inside of you.

"God! You're fucking tight honey!" Jim groaned loudly as he pushed the head of his cock into you. You have him the innocent eyes as he bottomed out in you. "And it's all mine!" He started thrusting in and out of you but Jim could tell you didn't want it slow. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you closer while leaning on top of you so he could go deeper.

"Fuck! It's all yours daddy!" You cried happily as he thrusted into you at a bruising pace. The coffee table squeaked a little below you as Jim fucked you hard. He watched as your tits bounced every time he thrusted into you. His groans were getting louder and deeper as you whimpered his name. Your nails dug into his back as he growled into your ear

"That's a good girl! Taking my cock so well! Love it when I fuck you like this.... don't you honey? Taking me so deep!" He nibble your ear lobe while your legs wrapped around his waist . Your eyes rolled back into your head as Jim pounded into your pussy.

"Daddy! Stop! You're going to make me pee!"

"Baby you're not going to pee! It's natural to feel that when I'm hitting your g-spot!" Jim lifted your hips up a little bit to get a deeper angle as he fucked you senseless. You nodded slowly as Jim used his thumb to reach down and rub your clit fast as his dick kept hitting your g-spot. The feeling inside of you grew too strong for you and you let go against Jim's cock.

"Oh fuck! That's it baby!" Jim smiled at you as you cried while you squirted against his cock. You swore you were peeing on him but Jim wouldn't have minded either way. "I know baby I know, it's so good isn't it? Fucking soaking me in your juices! Good girl!" His own thrusts were getting sloppy. Jim held your hips tightly as he groaned out your name as he shot his load deep inside of you. "FUCK! That's my girl! Taking my load ! Good girl!" He praised you while he held you as he pulled you up from the table and quickly sat on the couch while you sat on his cock.

"You did so good baby." He kissed your head.

"Do you feel better daddy?" Your voice was soft and broken as you laid your head onto his sweaty and hairy chest.

"You always make me feel better honey, always." Jim gave you another kiss on the head before he lifted your chin up with his index finger and gave you the most loving kiss you've ever felt.

[stvolanis]

Don’t Wanna Grow Up.

( one shot )

PAIRINGS: Rockstar! OC X Mean! Jim Hopper

WARNINGS: guys Hopper is really mean in this, small plot, OC is in a band (corroded coffin), she’s Eddie’s best friend/step-sister, age gap (OC is 19 and hops in his 40s), dubcon, drinking, usual rockstar things, OC is also kinda an asshole,nice jim at the end, hop being a cop (that rhymed lol)

NSFW INCLUDES: anal play, degradation (slut, brat, bitch), spitting, (hard) slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, breath play, power play, size kink, manhandling, choking, oral (m receiving), praising (if you squint), heavy sir kink, humiliation, public sex (parking lot), p in v sex, overstimulation, cum eating, SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING<3

Istg I got horny while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy !!<3

please lmk if you guys are interested in a part 2!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

the night was lively and booming in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. It was a big contrast to the usual boring nights that the locals were used to, and it was surely a huge difference for on-duty chief of police, Jim Hopper.

Rowdy teens were one thing, but full grown adults plus teenagers being loud and obnoxious was not how hopper wanted to spend his night. Of course the big commotion would only mean one thing, lots of paperwork and phone calls.

It was a Tuesday night. A school night. A work night, even. What could have possibly caused all this up roar in the town? This much disruption and constant noise complaint phone calls from a small, quiet and local bar were unusual. But, nonetheless, the chief loaded up in his cruiser and made quick work of heading to the busy bar.

Jim could hear the faint blaring music from down the road, much to his dismay. As he pulled in and got out of his car, slamming the door shut, he quickly took notice of the locals stumbling out of the bar drunkenly, hollering only god knows what as he watched one fall into a bush. It was gonna be a long night.

Hopper walked into the noisy bar and was instantly met with the smell of strong alcohol and must coming from the sweaty bodies dancing around in the crowd. Unfortunately, he could also smell the lingering remanence of throw up, cause his face to crinkle up in disgust. Suddenly, the bright stage that was flashing every color under the sun caught his attention.

Of course she would be what was causing all of this nonsense.

Blood red hair sticking up in all kinds of directions bounced up and down while singing wildly. One of her dainty, fishnet covered hands in the air as her other held a microphone. The deep red lipstick she was wearing was slightly smeared, as was her eyeliner and mascara. Her honey brown eyes peering over the crowd with a wicked smile dancing on her lips at the mess she’s stirred. The lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Cherrie.

A Highschool drop-out who was on the upcoming charts with her band, soon to be leaving the small town to start touring across America for a hefty price. A delinquent since she became friends with the Munson boy, who she’d met in the 5th grade after she stabbed him in the thigh with her pink pencil.

Cherrie was a force to be reckoned with, and Hop can’t even count on his fingers anymore how many times she’d spent the night in the county jail either high out of her mind or drunk on gin. She’d spent her whole life in and out of the system, till Eddie Munsons uncle, Wayne, decided he’d take her in. Her love for music started when she’d stumbled across Eddie’s massive music collection. Once Eddie got his guitar and she had a microphone in her hand, the rest was history.

The band started off as something they did for fun with their friends, but then it turned into something they couldn’t even imagine. Once their producer released their first album, it went flying off the shelves after about a lingering week of nothing. Before they knew it, they were ushered to go on tour in 2 weeks times. Cherrie always felt she was destined for more than the small town had to offer, but she could never quite place it till now. She had wanted an escape for as long as she can remember, and now that she finally had one, she wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.

The small town she lived in seen the worst in her, even the ones who were much worse than her. The difference between them was that she wasn’t afraid to show it. She didn’t need to put up a facade for people, because they’d always just see her as the burnt out Highschool drop out. But when she was on stage, it was like she was on top of the world. For once, the people who’d whisper terrible things about her and spread ugly rumors were looking up at her and cheering their hearts out. It was a nice change. It was a euphoric feeling.

Cherrie was no stranger when it came to the male gaze, as she’d dealt with it since she was only about 14. It’s always made her uncomfortable, for sure, but after a while she’d learned how to use it to her advantage. So it was no surprise when she’d tried attempt to seduce Jim Hopper a few months prior when he’d threaten to lock her up for good. She’d ended up spending the night in a jail cell. Ever since then, Jim’s felt uneasy around the ball of fire. Almost afraid she’d pounce at any moment on him.

But right now, it was almost as if he was in a trance as he watched her body move enchantingly. The lighting made her deep olive skin appear more vibrant, and hopper could see the sweat dripping down her chest and into her open cleavage. She wore a tight strapless corset that was laced and a small mini skirt that was so short, he was sure if she turned around he’d be able to see her ass. The fishnets that adorned her arms and legs had skulls embroidered onto them, but hopper could still see her colorful Paul Stanley star-man tattoo on the side of her thigh.

The choker she wore had protruding spikes on it and the chains she wore along with it complimented her slim neck. Hopper instinctively locked his dry lips as he stared at her for a moment longer before their eyes connected, and he felt the hairs on his arm stand up and his back straighten.

Cherrie watched Hopper walked to the side of the stage with furrowed eyebrows as he unplugged Eddie’s amp and the strobe lights, effectively making everyone let out noises of confusion and annoyance. Cherrie rolled her eyes and groaned as she dropped the mic onto the ground angrily before hopping off of the stage, pushing her way through the crowd to get to Jim. Eddie was hot on her tail, trying to calm down the fire he could’ve swore he saw in her eyes begin to spark, but he was soon lost in the crowd as he called out to her.

“What the fuck are you doing, shithead?!” Cherrie yelled out as she stood in front of Jim. “Doin’ my job, Cherrie. But you always gotta make it harder f’me, huh?” He huffed out with annoyance as he pushed past her towards the crowd of rowdy people.

“Everyone out! Right now, unless you’d like to spend the night with me at the station.” He yelled to the crowd, who quickly dispersed. Many sending Hopper ugly glances, but he was too over everything to care. “No, this is my scene, why’d you have to come fuck it up?!” She said with a groan as she stood chest to chest with him, though she was much smaller than him.

“Noise complaints, from multiple people.” He replied dryly. “Why can’t you just stay out of trouble for 2 fuckin’ minutes, is it that hard?” He added with a scoff. Cherrie didn’t process what happened as she felt her fist connect with his cheek, wincing as she rubbed her knuckles before slowly looking back up at an angry chief.

“Shit—Wait—” she muttered as she tried backing away from him, but Hop wasn’t having it. He harshly gripped her upper arm before slamming her front into the wall. “Cmon, yknow I didn’t mean to.” She said as she tried to wiggle free from his tight hold. “Shut up, brat.” He replied through clenched teeth as he snapped his cuffs onto her wrists.

“Ow!” She shouted as the cuffs tightened around her wrists painfully. Hop ignored her please as he dragged her out of the now almost empty bar. Eddie was by his van as he watched Cherrie get taken out in handcuffs with a shake of his head and a frown. “M’ sorry, Eds!” She shouted to him across the parking lot with a shrug of her shoulders. Eddie sighed as their band loaded up their belongings into his car.

Hopper pushed her forward towards the car. “We ain’t stoppin’ for chit-chat.” He grumbled under his breath. Cherrie merely rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Asshole.” She muttered under her breath. Hopper gripped her wrists in the cuffs tighter and he watched as she winced in pain. “What was that? Hm?” He muttered lowly in her ear.

She could feel his warm breath against the shell of her ear, and that’s all it took for her body to feel like it’s on fire. His grip on her wrists and the way she could feel his crotch area brush against her ass as they walked to the car from how close they are had her body on edge. She bit her lip as he opened the backseat door for her before roughly shoving her in and slamming the door shut.

Hopper got in his seat and fumbled with his keys with a huff before starting his cruiser. “Yknow you’re kinda hot when you’re mad to me, chief.” Cherrie giggled as she batted her lashes. Hopper eyed her through the rearview mirror, his eyes briefly trailing down to her open cleavage that was now free of sweat before rolling his eyes and adjusting the mirror to see better behind him, but really it’s just so his boner wouldn’t further harden from the sight of her in cuffs in his back seat.

Cherrie giggled lightly as she made herself comfortable in the backseat as Jim began driving to the police station. And then an idea hit her. “Yknow, I always thought you were a pretty shitty cop.” She said aloud as she looked out the window with a smirk. “Excuse me?” Hopper said, taken slightly aback.

“You heard me. I don’t even know you you became chief—I mean, aren’t you always drinking on the job? Yet you wanna make me seem like I’m the worst person ever.” She scoffed out with an eye roll. Hopper slammed on the breaks, making Cherrie hurl forward, hitting the head rest with a loud ‘thud’.

“Shit—what the fuck, Hop?!” She yelled out with furrowed brows. Jim’s breathing was erratic and hit fists were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. “Yeah? You think I’m a shitty cop? Alright, y’little bitch.” He muttered with a dark chuckle as he drove into an empty parking lot that was some what hidden behind trees.

“What’re you doin? you aren’t gonna kill me are you?” Cherrie giggled, feigning fear. Hopper didn’t respond as he parked the car and swung his door open, quickly opening Cherries too. “Hey—” she started, but was cut off when hopper gripped her upper arm tightly, yanking her out of her seat and onto the ground. Cherrie sat on her knees in front of the cop, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

“Y’gonna hurt me, Hop?” She challenged with raised brows and a taunting smirk. Hoppers hand harshly made contact with the side of her cheek, roughly slapping her, making her head spin to the side as a stinging pain overtook her cheek. Cherrie whimpered lightly, making Hopper chuckle. “Thought this was what you wanted, brat.” He said tauntingly as he gripped her hair, making her look up at him.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen—” he started . “Y’gonna suck my cock like a good girl n then I’m gonna fuck that tight little cunt until I’m through with you, n maybe your ass if I feel like it. You’ve been a little bitch all night so don’t expect to fucking cum, y’hear me?” He stated as he peered down at her. Cherrie felt her pussy begin to ache with need, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to actually want him the way she does now.

Cherrie nodded and Hopper slapped her once again, but on her other cheek. “Words, slut.” He spit out. Cherrie moaned at the slap, making hopper chuckle. “Yes, sir.” She muttered as she bit down on her lip. Jim groaned at the name. “Good girl.” He praised as he began to unzip his pants, letting them fall to his knees.

Cherrie could see his large bulge and a small wet patch where his tip is that’s seeping through. “M’gonna teach you how to suck cock properly, little girl.” He said as he let his hard cock spring free, long and so thick. A vein ran along the underside of it and Cherries mouth watered at the sight, but she wasn’t gonna let up so easily. “S’ not gonna fit in my mouth. Don’t want it to.” She said.

“I don’t give a fuck, you act like a brat n’ you get treated like one.” He said as he slapped his cock against the side of her cheek with a smirk. He soon forced Cherries mouth open with his thumb and shoved his throbbing member down her throat without warning, making her gag aloud. Cherrie could feel her eyes watering as his cock hit the back of her throat with no mercy. It was getting hard to breathe, and it didn’t help when the mean man above her pinched her nose shut as he held his cock in the back of her throat with a loud groan.

After a few seconds he let her nose go and she released his throbbing dick, gasping for air, hee chest heaving. “Please—” she begged through breaths of air. Jim quickly shoved his cock back down her throat that was now becoming unbearably sore, along with her jaw. She moaned around his cock as she began to grind her sopping cunt against the chiefs freshly polished boots.

Hopper felt his end coming near at the sight it. “Look at you— h-humping my boot l-l-like a bitch in heat.” He moaned at through clenched teeth as he watched her mascara and eyeliner run down her cheeks from her tears that he caused. The way she feverishly humped against his boot harder after his comment made him cum down her throat with a groan and a string of ‘fuckkk, just like that’ and ‘so fuckin good’.

Cherries senses were overwhelmed as she tasted him down her throat and on her tongue. Salty, but not bitter. Hopper slightly pulled out and released the rest of his cum on her tongue that was hanging outside of her mouth with a satisfied moan. Cherrie made quick work of swallowing his generous load. “Whaddya say, baby?” He mocked.

“Thank you for your cum, sir.” Cherrie said as she gripped at his leg, her panty covered pussy still dripping on his boot. “Needy little girl, aren’t you, Cherrie?” He asked as he clicked his tongue. She nodded and muttered a small ‘yes, sir’ as he surprisingly, gently pulled her up from the ground. Hopper gripped Cherries throat and pulled her face close to his, just enough to where their lips were brushing against each other.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good.” He muttered, and Cherrie groaned as he lips finally crashed with his. The kiss was messy and heated, and their teeth clashed together as did their tongues. They fought for dominance, but Jim over powered her as his tongue danced with hers. “Fuckkk, y’taste so good.” He groaned against her as his grip on her slim throat tighten just above her spiked choker that he adored so much on her.

He opened her mouth before spitting into it, his boner growing larger as he watched her swallow it obediently. It was just something about making her go from a bratty, loud, rude and arrogant little girl to a submissive, hot mess with not much to say now that made Jim Hopper go absolutely fucking feral. The need to be inside of her hurled into his senses as he dragged her to the front of his cruiser, bending her over the hood.

Jim got down onto his knees, now eye level with her wet, fishnet covered baby pink panties with lace on the trim of it. “So cute, baby.” He muttered as he kissed the flesh of her ass before gripping both cheeks in his large hands. He pressed his nose into her panties and inhaled her scent deeply, his dick throbbing at the smell of her arousal. Cherrie whimpered as his nose brushed against her aching clit as she tried to wiggle her pussy even closer to his face.

Hopper chuckled at his needy girl and licked a long stripe over her panties. Cherrie let out a pornographic moan as he sucked her panty covered clit into his mouth. “Please, sir, ‘m sorry for bein’ a bad girl, need you so bad. promise I’ll be good.” She whined out as her eyes began to water again.

“Since you asked so nicely f’me, whore.” He said as though he were pondering it. He stood up and easily towered over the small girl bent over the hood of his car as he ripped her fishnets big enough to wear he could push her panties to the side. He groaned as he watched her slick drip out of her pussy and down her thighs. “Hop, my fishnets..” she muttered breathlessly.

“I’ll buy you new fishnets, baby, whatever you want.” He muttered as leaned over and kissed her shoulder. He slapped her ass, once, twice, just to watch it jiggle against the impact before spreading her ass once again to get a better view of her pussy. “So wet..” he murmured to himself as he slapped her gently slapped her cunt, making her let out a soft groan.

Hopper aligned his massive cock to her entrance and pushed in forcefully before pausing for a moment to get the smaller girl used to his size. Her cunt squeezed around him in a vice grip, almost painfully as he hissed. Cherrie moaned as she felt him fill her small cunt to the brim, kissing her cervix. She could feel him throbbing inside of her, begging to move.

“Please, sir—” she started, and Jim wasted no time in pulling out just to slam back into her again, causing Cherrie to let out a gasp. Hopper began pounding into the red haired girl, one of his hands gripping her wrists that were still in handcuffs while the other harshly smacked her ass hard enough to leave a deep red hand print, making Cherries eyes water.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned out loud ‘uhs’ each time he slammed back into her. As his pace began to gradually increase, the sweaty sound of skin slapping together could be heard throughout the parking lot and Jim felt like he was on cloud 9. Her cunt was so warm and tight. Almost as if she were a virgin.

Hop imagined her stomach swollen and her breasts enlarged and swollen with milk. How she’d become domesticated and obedient, much to his pleasure. He imagined her whimpers and moans as he’d fondle her nipples and squeezed the bundle of nerves just to watch the milk come out of them.

His hips slammed into hers harder and faster, taking Cherries breath away as her moans were uncontrollable and throat sore. Her mind was blank and all she could think about was the way he was filling her up. “Like the way I fuck you, hm? Stuffin’ this little pussy just the way you like.” The older man said as he threw his head back with a loud moan.

God, she loved how vocal he was. It made her pussy clench around him as she felt her orgasm approaching. “Sir—‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, oh my god—” she moaned out, her voice a higher pitch as she whined at the stimulation. Hopper sounded almost animalistic as he let out a what sounded close to a growl. “I told you you’re not gonna fuckin’ cum, you hear me?” He said through pants. Cherrie could tell he was being serious, but she just couldn’t hold it.

“please, ‘m sorry, sorry, I c—ca—can’t hold it.” She gasped out as her mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape as her orgasm slammed into her. Cherrie squirted all over Jim’s lower body, making him let out a groan. “Fuckkk..” he groaned out again. Cherrie thought Hopper would let up since she’d already came, but it seemed like the man had other plans.

Her pussy was so sensitive as he continued his brutal thrusts in and out with no remorse to her aching cunt. “please—stop, I can’t—“ she begged loudly as she tried to push her cuffed hands against his lower stomach, weakly trying to push him away from her but failing miserably. “No, you wanted to cum so you’re gonna fuckin cum for me as many times as I tell you to.” He said as he watched her ass jiggle each time his hips hit hers.

Hopper moved his hand that was around her wrist to her ass cheek, spreading it before spitting down into her puckered hole. He used his thumb to smear around his saliva before he slowly pushed it in, making Cherrie hiss out in pain. “This is what little girls who don’t listen get. They get their assholes used and violated.” He said with a chuckle as he began to fuck her tight ass with his thumb.

Broken moans left her throat as she felt herself go cross eyed, body shaking at the stimulation of her clit dragging against the hood of the car with each violent thrust delivered to her over-used cunt, paired with his thumb fucking into her ass made her orgasm quickly approach again.

“Sir, ‘m gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please, please!” She yelled out like it was a chant. Hopper bit down harshly on his lip, drawing blood before speaking. “Hold on, ‘m almost there, slut.” He huffed out as his thrusts became erratic and sloppy. “Y’want me to cum in this pussy? Make you nice n’ full? Make you all nice n swollen with my fuckin’ babies?” He moaned out.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh my god, need your cum, please cum in me. Need it so bad.” She moaned out, drunk on his cock that was drilling into her now more sloppy. “Yeah? Fuck , yes. Cum f’me right now, Cherrie. Cum f’me.” He repeated over and over till she squirted all over his cock for a second time, her body shaking and spasming with each dragging thrust he blew.

His hips stilled as his cock stuffed her full, and she could feel him getting soft inside of her before lazily pulling out. Hopper dropped down to his knees again and began licking up both of their release from her hole, savoring the taste of her juices that were now dripping down the starved man’s chin, making his beard sticky. “Oh my god.” Cherrie moaned as her legs shook violently at the harsh overstimulation of him fucking his cum back into her pussy with three of his large fingers.

Jim let up and slapped her cunt a few times for safe measures before he grabbed the keys to her handcuffs and took them off. Hopper put her panties back in place to make sure none of his valued cum can get out of her used cunt. He let her body fall limp against him as he picked her up bridal style as he opened the passenger door, gently putting her in.

“‘M takin’ you to my house, baby. Gon’ take good care of you, Cherrie.” He murmured gently as he kissed her temple. Cherrie nodded and blushed madly at his gentle, loving tone. A tone no one besides Wayne or Eddie used for her.

Maybe Jim Hopper wasn’t so bad after all.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

[im-his-druidess]

Masterlist

Beauregard "Bo" Sinclair

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Vincent Sinclair

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

Bo Sinclair & Vincent Sinclair (hinge poly)

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -6

Michael Myers

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13

Otis Driftwood

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 6 - 7 - 8

Luigi Largo

1 - 2 - 3

Thomas Hewitt/Leatherface

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11

Brahms Heelshire

1

Jason Voorhees

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Patrick/Paddy

1

Norman Nordstrom

1 - 2 - 3

Slasher Group Preferences

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

••••••••••••••••••••

Miles Quaritch

1

[deadpoolgirl23]

This just popped into my head but imagine Santa telling you to go to his "workshop" infront of the elves and they don't think much of it cause it's jolly old saint Nick but in reality his "workshop" is a locked room that you and him only have a key too, that's filled with holiday sex toys and depending on if you were being naughty or nice is how you would get treated in there.

[dilfth1rster]

Hi who do you write for just curious? So then I can send a request

I write for:

Chris Evans

Jensen Ackles

Henry Cavill

Charlie Cox

Pedro Pascal

Jon Bernthal

Jake Gyllenhaal

Tom Hardy

Oscar Isaac

Idris Elba

Hugh Jackman

Anthony Mackie

Andrew Garfield

Abel Tesfaye(The weeknd)

Ryan Reynolds

Sebastian Stan

David Harbour

Jeffrey Dean Morgan

Andrew Lincoln

Taika Waititi

Kumail Nanjiani

+ more, including their roles!

[liliummmmm]

i was looking for clips of gary weber, a character played by david who has less than 5 minutes of screen time in an episode of 'the unit', and he's so annoying and obnoxious, basically a piece of shit. he's the kind of guy i've always hated, but he is also david. in those short minutes i couldn't help but think how much i wish he'd bend me over his desk and fuck me senseless until my legs were shaking and my core ached from how hard he fucked me. he'd leave his hands full of grease and other things that i have no intention of knowing, marked on my hips, legs, breasts and neck —this man loves to choke his partner during sex, i just know—.

i'm sure he talks dirty, that doesn't mean he's good at it, he just likes to call his partner a fucking cunt and all the demeaning nicknames that are left as he's fucking them fast and hard.

and he probably smells like doritos (or any other fried food) and beer all the time, with a faint scent of cheap lotion.

but i have a feeling he'd last a minute between going in and out and cumming inside, just 'cause of his shitty attitude :(

however, i'd still let him hit it whenever he wants.

i can't fix him but i can hate-fuck him.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Perv!Dark!Jim Hopper x fem!reader • Jealousy, angst, posessive Hopper • Hopper has a corruption kink and some dark fantasies about reader

PART TWO

Chief Jim Hopper knew he had a problem; several, in fact. There was his moderate abuse of alcohol which bordered on severe, especially under times of heightened stress (which to be fair, seemed like most of the time these days). Then there was his pill addiction, the ones he found himself leaning on throughout the day when the effects of the previous night’s alcohol had worn off. But the problem Hopper had that bothered him the most, perhaps, was the one that involved YOU…

He was absolutely, unequivocally in lust with you. Every time Hopper saw you, the limited bit of feminism he’d learned over the years flew right out the window. He wanted you, and not in a pretty way, or any way that implied romance, flowers, dating, none of that. He wanted you carnally, in a way that almost frightened him because of the strength behind it.

Hopper knew he could control himself, at least physically. He wasn’t worried about that, wasn’t concerned that he’d hurt you. But mentally…he was out of control. The fantasies that filled his mind involving you were beyond pornographic; they were sinful. Everything sweet about you, everything pure, Hopper wanted to corrupt.

As the station’s new secretary, he saw you daily, heard your voice chatting on the phone and with your co-workers. And fuck, how he wanted you. He wanted to know if your pretty face would still look so sweet, so innocent, with his cum running down it? How distorted would your sweet voice sound with his cock rammed down your throat? Would you still be smiling if his hands were in your hair, yanking it backwards as he stretched your asshole beyond its capacity to take him?

Hopper knew he was sick. And sometimes, when he was alone and drunk, or high, he didn’t fucking care that he was sick. He didn’t mind being a monster, in those moments with his hand around his cock, lying on his back with his eyes closed, imagining your mouth around him instead. Servicing him, seducing him, your pretty eyes on his and only him.

He was your boss, after all. Your superior in every way. How Hopper wished he could take advantage of that superiority, to abuse his position of power as thoroughly as he longed to abuse your throat. It was all fantasy, of course, and therefore safe. A secret indulgence that Hopper took little pride in during sobriety, but that he found himself a slave to when intoxicated. Even at the station, he’d have no choice but to relieve himself in the privacy of his office.

Hearing your voice just outside his door, knowing what you were wearing as he’d seen you when he entered the station that morning, Hopper would lock his door and have his pants undone before he got back to his chair. He’d loosen the top buttons of his shirt, sit back and stroke himself to the sound of your voice beyond the door, hanging on your words, the gentle trill of your laughter. He’d imagine how pretty your moans would sound as he took you from behind, how sweetly you’d whimper as he pumped his cum inside you, then licked you clean.

Hopper would reach for whatever was nearby, usually his emptied coffee cup from that morning, and ejaculate into it. And what a poor substitute for your mouth it was, he’d think, breathless and leaning fully back in his chair, cock still leaking and twitching in his hand. He’d always toss the cup into the trash can and clean himself up, so no one suspected a thing. No one else at the station was aware of his perversions, and that’s how Hopper wanted it to be. He knew that if his secret got out, it would ruin his already faltering reputation within the community. Hawkins was his hometown, and had generally been sympathetic considering his past trauma and choice to return home after the death of his daughter. But this? Combined with the rumors of Hopper’s substance abuse, the fact that he was lusting after the new secretary at least ten years his junior would likely solidify his reputation as a degenerate and render him unfit for duty.

Hopper was lonely, very lonely. It had been months since he’d last had a woman, and even then, it was so casual and boring that it meant nothing to him. He hadn’t even wanted her, truthfully; she was just a wet, willing mouth to suck him off, parked behind The Hideaway bar downtown after they’d both indulged in far too many beers. She’d swallowed his cum, he’d fingered her in the front seat to climax, and that was the end of it. She’d left his car for her own, parked a few feet away, and they’d never seen each other since. She’d tried to get his attention in the weeks after, but Hopper wasn’t interested.

Because a week later, you’d come to work at the station, and Hopper’s world (at least, his internal world) had been flipped upside down. He’d never been more attracted to anyone in his life, never felt such an instinctive, primal yearning for a woman who he literally knew almost nothing about. But really, Hopper would ask himself, did he need to know more? He could see everything he wanted to take from you, from just one look in your direction. That body…those soft pink lips that would look even softer with his cum dripping out of them…Your eyes, beautiful eyes that he needed to see rolled back while gagging on his cock…

Hopper was reaching a breaking point, he feared. Although he knew he’d never hurt you, he needed to. He needed to know what you felt like around his dick, what sounds you’d make taking him. He wondered if you’d ever been with a man as big as him before? Hopper knew he was hung, at least three inches above the average man’s size. He was thick too, and he knew from experience that women appreciate a cock with not only length but girth as well. He knew he could pease you, could do things to your body that no other man ever had, if only you’d allow him. If only, if only, if only…

Hopper was drowning in ‘if only’s.’ One way or another, he would have you. The first step , he decided, was to approach you as a colleague. Not as your boss, necessarily, even though that’s what he was. He needed to be subtle about his approach, so as not to come across as abusing his position of power over you. This needed to go down smoothly, softly, a calculated plan of action that Hopper was dedicated to seeing through, from the beginning to where it ended with his cock buried inside you…

He planned to approach you at the station’s annual ‘Spring Fling,’ a community fundraising event for local charities held every year on the second Saturday in April. Hopper chose this event because it was outside of work, yet as an employee of the Hawkins P.D. you were sure to be there. The days leading up to the Spring Fling were the hardest for Hopper, both figuratively and literally. He’d never had to masturbate so often in his life, finding himself painfully hard through most of the work day just being near you. Thank god for the privacy of his office and the lock on its door. Hopper had begun taking extra coffee in the morning with the excuse that he was more tied than usual, with the actual intent of dumping the coffee out and using the empty cups to cum inside.

He groomed himself as usual the morning of the event, taking slightly longer to adjust himself in the mirror before leaving his trailer. Hopper had been a little self conscious about his weight in recent years, but he was tall and knew that his height worked as an advantage for him. Straightening in the mirror, pressing his shoulders back, he met his eyes in his reflection, their deep, intense blue. He was ready.

Hopper planned to make casual, friendly conversation with you, before inviting you to dinner. He’d control his body as best he could, force his eyes not to wander from your eyes to anywhere besides your lips, perhaps, and even then, for the briefest of moments. He needed to seal this deal, to secure your trust (although as Chief of Police and your employer, he was reasonably sure he already had it). No need to get ahead of himself, however, Hopper remembered. It was better to assume you had at least a neutral opinion of him before proceeding, rather than expect your automatic approval.

When he arrived at the Spring Fling, Hopper was surprised to see how just many people had turned out. The event usually drew a big crowd, but the majority of Hawkins seemed to be there this year. It was promising for the charities hoping to earn donations that day, but made Hopper’s effort to spot you in the crowd more difficult. He met up with officers Callahan and Powell, and lingered with them near the stage set up for music to be performed later, hoping that perhaps the trio of them would catch your eye and prompt you to say hello.

When Hopper did see you, he was awestruck. You were, to him, like something divine: an angel dressed in white, your long skirt moving gently in the light April breeze, the neckline low enough to display your breasts but modest enough to keep his mind actively wondering for more. Your hair was pinned up by bright yellow ribbons, tied together at the back of your head to create what looked to Hopper like the crown a princess in a fairytale might wear.

You were so effortlessly elegant, so perfectly innocent, moving through the crowd completely unaware of the effect you were having on Hopper, and likely most of the other men in attendance. Hopper opened his lips to speak as you approached, but was stopped short when he noticed the young man walking alongside you. Hopper hadn’t seen him before, had been so lost in the sight of you that anyone else near you had faded into the background of his vision, blurred by your presence.

The young man smiled and placed his arm around your waist, as if to claim you. Hopper’s jaw tightened; he’d seen this man before. Up close, he was barely a man at all, at least as Hopper perceived. This was a boy, in his early twenties Hopper assumed. Hopper wondered what this boy was doing for you, what he was doing to you, knowing full well that he could do it so much better, regardless of how good this boy was in bed-

“Chief!” you said brightly, pulling Hopper from his vindictive string of thoughts. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe this many people showed up today, isn’t it great?”

Hopper forced a polite smile onto his face.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m glad to see such a big turnout.” Hopper’s eyes narrowed slightly at the man with his arm around your waist. “You look beautiful, (y/n),” he said, and you smiled, cheeks going slightly pink. Because of course they did. Of course you blushed easily, because you were so sweet, so soft. And it made Hopper want to absolutely ruin you…

“Who’s your friend?” he asked, his tone slightly sharper than he’d intended. You smiled and looked up at the (admittedly handsome, Hopper conceded) man beside you. “This is Steve, my boyfriend,” you replied, your cheeks going pinker. The young man extended his hand to Hopper for a friendly shake. “Steve Harrington,” he said, his big brown eyes full of a joy that Hopper had only dreamed of ever experiencing. “My mom runs one of the charities participating here today, right over-.” He pointed awkwardly past Hopper, who didn’t bother to look, chuckling slightly. “-Over there,” Steve continued, adding “it’s good to meet you, Chief.”

Hopper studied the boy a moment longer, committing to memory all of the details about him he’d have to pick apart and analyze later. “Likewise,” Hopper lied, taking Steve’s hand and squeezing harder than he needed. Steve’s eyebrows rose but his smile remained polite. “Well uh, (y/n) tells me a lot about her new job,” Steve said, his tone pleasant as ever. Hopper’s eyes shifted back to you. “Does she?” he asked, and you smiled up at Steve.

“I tell him what I can,” you teased. “But not all the details; I can’t give away too much information about everything that goes on at the station-.” You playfully patted Hopper’s arm, and he swallowed. “-You know,” you continued. “Official police business and all that…”

Hopper knew you only were being friendly, but his paranoia made him wonder exactly how much you knew about what went on at the station? Specifically, his daily masturbation when you were just outside his door? Hopper forced the possibility away, refusing to entertain it. If you knew about it, you probably wouldn’t be so friendly towards him right now, or anytime for that matter. You’d probably think your boss was a pervert (and that’s exactly what Hopper knew he was) never speaking to him again unless you had to. You were too sweet, too innocent, to ever condone such carnal, almost animalistic behavior from a man, surely. At least, that’s what Hopper had always assumed. It’s why he wanted to test how far he could soil such a pretty little flower, to pluck every petal and see what you were capable of underneath?

“Only good things,” Steve assured Hopper. He nodded politely. “Well that’s good to hear,” Hopper said, but he wasn’t looking at Steve; he was looking at you. “(Y/N) is a real asset to the station. We’re lucky to have her.”

Steve smiled down at you warmly. “Me too,” he murmured, and you leaned into each other for a quick kiss. Hopper felt his blood boiling.

You noticed the odd look on the Chief’s face, and felt slightly embarrassed. Even though you weren’t at work, and in a casual setting, you worried maybe it was still unprofessional to give your boyfriend a kiss in this situation? In front of your boss? You were still learning the proper decorum for working at the station, and you hoped your innocent display with Steve hadn’t rubbed Hopper the wrong way. The last thing you wanted to be was unprofessional.

To lighten the mood, you decided to attempt a joke. “I think,” you told Steve, glancing from him to Hopper. “The reason the Chief likes me is because I get him those extra cups of coffee right away every time he asks for them.”

Hopper couldn’t help it; his eyes widened slightly. You were giggling, probably oblivious to the actual weight of what you’d said, but…Hopper’s paranoia lurched in his stomach. What if…what if you did know? He scanned your eyes for any sign of hidden meaning, for any indication that you were on to his behavior behind the office door. But all Hopper saw in your eyes was, as usual, a beautiful innocence that lay waiting to be corrupted…

Steve chimed in with “I’ll bet you need every last drop too, huh Chief?”

Hopper frowned at him, not understanding for a moment before he realized Steve was talking about coffee. “With your job, being so stressful, I mean.”

Hopper nodded, realizing that his dislike of Steve Harrington was rapidly shifting to hatred. “Yeah, it’s a job alright,” Hopper muttered in Steve’s direction, still avoiding looking at him.

You noticed a friend of your and Steve’s a few feet away, and waved to them. Steve saw them as well, and you both took a step in their direction. “Gotta go, boss,” you smiled warmly at Hopper. “See you Monday morning.”

Hopper grinned tightly, glancing very briefly at Steve when the younger man took his hand again. “Pleasure to meet ya, Chief,” Steve told him. Hopper didn’t return the sentiment.

The rest of the event dragged on for Hopper monotonously. Although he tried his best to avoid seeking you out in the crowd, he still found himself looking for the yellow ribbons adorning your hair, and the white dress that drifted so gently in the breeze. It was a welcome distraction in a way, having so many people around, speaking to him even though he had no interest in them or their conversation. There was only one person in the crowd that he cared about; and now, he knew that having you would be more of a challenge than ever.

Hopper felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned. He was looking at a woman, and it took him a solid thirty seconds to recognize that she was the woman he’d fucked in his car months ago. “Hello there, Sherrif,” she said with an overly flirtatious drawl, her voice and demeanor reeking of desperation. She slid her hand down Hopper’s arm, and he watched it, noting the harsh, tacky shade of her nail polish. He knew that you would never wear such a color. You kept your nails neat and pretty, painted in soft pastels like the flowers in your hair.

Hopper hated this woman’s hand on him. He hated the way her neon pink lipstick had transferred onto her teeth as she smiled up at him, waiting for validation. Hopper wondered how long it would take to wash that disgusting pink lipstick off his dick later? He smiled back at the woman, watching her light up at his attention, that he remembered her. There was nothing in this for Hopper, he realized, besides a quick fix to a problem only your body, your mouth, could solve for him.

He looked past the woman briefly just in time to see you and Steve leaving the event together, hardly able to keep your hands off each other. It was all the motivation Hopper needed to make yet another bad decision; and so he took the woman’s hand in his, and asked her a question he already knew the answer to: “What’re you doing tonight?”

[honey-flustered]

Kinktober Day 9: Body Worship

DBF!Jim Hopper x Artist!Fem!Reader

Summary: Hooper becomes your muse.

Warnings: age gap (Hopper 40s, Reader 20s), unethical relationship, cheating, c*ck worship, cum eating, cumming untouched, facef*cking, body worship, hopper has a big one (i know it), dacryphilia

You’re sitting at your dining room table sketching away when you felt a heavy hand on your head, tussling your hair. You quickly place your arms over your work, looking back at the unexpected guest with an anxious smile.

Hopper gives you a warm genuine smile. He’d come over for dinner by your father’s invitation with his girlfriend, Joyce Byers. When you learned of his relationship status, you were quite disappointed to say the least. You want to be happy for him as he appears to be a lot healthier and happier but because he’s not with you, it doesn’t settle right. Because of this you ignored him the entire night.

“Hey, kid,” He says with a soft chuckle at your startled look. His eyes squint at the way you hid your sketchbook. “Whatcha got there?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” You sigh, trying to feign indifference. “You wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I’m really curious,” He insists, sitting in a chair to face you. “I always care for your art.”

You clutched the book to your chest before slowly releasing it for him to take. It’s erotica art. The male vampire lover similar-looking to Hopper feeding from the breast of a woman similar-looking to you.

“That’s pretty good stuff.” He says, much to your surprise.

“I-it is.”

“Yeah,” He laughs. “Is this why you were afraid to show me?”

Your eyes bug out of your head. Did he catch on that the drawing looks similar to him? It’s so obvious! Of course, he knows.

“Because of a little nudity?” He continues. So he didn’t catch on, after all.

“Well, yeah,” You follow through with his observation. “People tend to get a bit uncomfortable with nudity so I didn’t want to do that to you.”

“I don’t mind nudity especially when it comes to incredible art like yours. The human body’s a natural thing.”

“Exactly! That’s actually the concept I’m going for with my art. Natural bodies, sexualities, and kinks. It’s about what makes humans find beauty and attraction or lack thereof beyond the human flesh.”

“I think it’s brilliant. Maybe a little above my intelligence level but I know you’ve got it.”

“Actually, I think you might be the only one who understands around here,” You admit. “My parents…they just think this whole art thing’s unsustainable. But I think with this art installation project coming up, I can prove them wrong. Do you…do you think you can help me, Sheriff Hopper?”

“How could I help?” He asks.

“Be my muse, pretty please.”

And when he agreed he’d no clue what he’d signed himself up for. For you to be so bold to ask your father’s best friend to be your muse when it meant seeing him in the nude, he couldn’t fathom you asking such a thing. And yet now here he was in your small studio contemplating on whether he should go through with removing the remainder of his clothing.

You place your pencil down onto the canvas’s utensil holder, approaching his tall frame. “What’s wrong? Do you need help taking off your pants?”

He swallows convulsively. “When I said I’d be your muse, I thought you just needed me to hold a quick pose…fully clothed.”

“My art concept’s about natural bodies, Sheriff,” You grab unto the waist band of his jeans that had been slightly undone to reveal his white boxers. You drag his pants down a little to where his rather sizable member rests above the open fly. He’s growing hard. “You knew that though. It’s exactly why you agreed to becoming my muse—so I can worship you.”

You palm him through his underwear and he groans, taking your hand away to place them over his hairy chest.

“I knew you as a teenager.” He protests.

“I was 19.” You roll your eyes, using your free hand to hook into his underwear and pull him closer.

“Your father wouldn’t approve.” He argues, a moan bubbling in his throat when you begin to kiss on his chest and swirl a tongue around his nipple. He squeezes your hand a little, releasing as if it is an expression of his diminishing restraint.

You pull away with a wet pop, a line of saliva connecting as you stare up at him with doe eyes. “When have I ever cared what my father approves of?”

“I have a girlfriend.” He counters.

You move your lips to his ear, hotly whispering, “So do I.”

Your lips find each other’s in a sloppy make out session of tongues and clashing teeth. Your hands roam his body, caressing his belly then slipping down his underwear to jerk him off. Even though, you can’t see it, you can tell that it’s not only deathly thick and long but super veiny, too, with a wicked curve. No wonder Joyce had been limping all throughout dinner that day.

You break away from his lips, peppering wet kisses all over his stomach and dipping your tongue in his bellybutton. When you’re finally on your knees, you rub the base of him through the fabric. You bite your lip in anticipation as you finally take initiative and pull him out of his confines, mouth dropping open at the look of him. Just as veiny as you thought with heavy, sagging balls to match. You’re drooling, licking your lips and staring up at him one last time before focusing your eyes on the leaking tip and enclosing your mouth around him.

He cradles the back of your head with one hand while the other pounds a fist against your not-so-high ceilings, a loud growl escaping his clenched teeth.

You bob your head quickly, dramatically gagging on him and its loud and messy but neither of you care. Soon, he’s fucking your mouth both hands interlocked on the back of your head while you do a mix of massaging his clothed thick thighs or raking your sharp nails down his pudgy tummy. Tears prick your eyes as you struggle to take him but you’ll take whatever he gives you even if it kills you.

You don’t even need to touch yourself as the juices flow out of you, streaming down your inner thighs. You’re humping the air, core contracting around nothing as his whines are the only thing fueling you to near your end.

“Fuuuck, I’m cumming.” He hisses, rapid final thrusts of his wide cock into your mouth. He holds you down, your nose embedded in his pubic hair and you taste his hot spunk shoot down your throat. Just from that, you cum untouched, the act of being used so filthily making it possible.

You’re limited in breathing as you inhale through your nose and your jaw hurts but it’s all worth it as your eyes roll back and you quiver as much as your body could under his hold.

He finally releases your head, pulling his cock out of your wet mouth with webs of saliva to follow as you gasp for air.

“Was I inspiring enough for you?” He asks cockily.

Your throat itches as you let out a low giggle. “You’re perfect.”

[anna-hawk]

The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁

Also on AO3

You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise. 

Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree? 

Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.  

Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and… 

“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes. 

Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance. 

“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head. 

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either. 

“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want? 

“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression. 

Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm. 

“Where the fuck is it?” 

“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you. 

“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present. 

You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look. 

“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively. 

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular. 

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath. 

“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty. 

“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.

You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious. 

“You sure?” you grinned. 

This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here. 

He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes. 

“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug. 

“How… Who…” 

How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick. 

The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?” 

Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if… 

“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.

He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them? 

You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong. 

“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa. 

He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later. 

“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?” 

You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again. 

“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”

“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?” 

You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face. 

“Am I on the naughty list yet?” 

His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face. 

“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on. 

“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was. 

Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly. 

“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”

Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you. 

“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose. 

“Merry Christmas.” 

He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later. 

One year later

Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off. 

You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties. 

As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen… 

That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up. 

Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit. 

Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up? 

The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles. 

“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in. 

Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you. 

As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.  

Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you. 

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing. 

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression. 

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled. 

Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn���t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year. 

“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”

“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you. 

Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly. 

“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.

“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule. 

“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face. 

Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily. 

“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.” 

You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable. 

“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”

Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal. 

“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him. 

He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster. 

“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor. 

As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him. 

Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come. 

“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word. 

“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.

Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk. 

“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock. 

His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction. 

“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further. 

Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock. 

“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth. 

Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed. 

Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt. 

“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth. 

You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that? 

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply. 

“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move. 

“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom. 

Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly. 

You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes. 

“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”

Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on. 

“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression. 

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level. 

“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.” 

Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day. 

“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations. 

Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders. 

While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you. 

Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time. 

“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his. 

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw. 

“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”

His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling. 

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you. 

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!” 

This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him. 

“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again. 

“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?” 

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!” 

You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face. 

“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”

His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan. 

Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair. 

“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last. 

Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder.  You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up. 

“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms. 

You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration. 

“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face. 

“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble. 

“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged. 

This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him. 

Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him. 

He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.” 

You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking. 

“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast. 

A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes. 

“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off. 

You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…

“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way. 

Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead. 

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later. 

Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned. 

Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair. 

A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face. 

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively. 

Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him. 

“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.” 

“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him. 

[sargebarnesx]

Jealousy

Pairing: Jim Hopper x female reader

Rating: 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Age gap, dirty talk, unprotected sex, sex in his office, Hop’s a bit of a dom

Words: 2.3k ish?

Summary: Phil Callahan has a massive crush on you and Jim Hopper doesn’t want to admit that he’s jealous.

Author’s Note: please forgive me for two things: 1. If Hopper seems a bit OOC, it’s been a while since I’ve watched ST but I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while. 2. If I missed any warning/info that should have been provided. I haven’t posted fanfic on tumblr in about a decade so I’m out of practice. Hope y’all enjoy though!

Jim Hopper would never admit to being jealous.

He would describe himself as laid back when it came to relationships. Besides, when was he ever tied down to anyone long enough to get jealous? He would go with the flow, which usually meant he would have one night stand after one night stand and never call any of them ever again.

Until he met you.

You were a decade younger, but that didn’t bother him. You had a past, hell, so did he. He didn’t care. You started working at the station, that was great, he could see you every day and he definitely didn’t mind that. There was only one thing that seemed to be bothering him lately…

Phil Callahan had a massive crush on you.

Jim Hopper would never admit to being jealous, especially not of Phil Callahan.

You wore tight skirts and cute heels to work, a stark contrast from Flo’s ankle-length dresses and sensible shoes. You were young and pretty, what did he expect? You spent a lot of your time flittering around the station, helping where you could, filing, cleaning, making and answering calls. In between all of that, you found time to innocently flirt with Phil. You knew what you were doing; you knew it was going to make Jim’s blood boil every time he caught you sitting on the corner of Phil’s desk in your tight black skirt that hugged the curve of your ass perfectly. You were putting on a show, albeit one that had maybe gone on for too long. But you wanted to see how long it would take Hopper to crack.

Your white button-up top exposed your collarbone, giving everyone at the station a tiny peek of the smooth skin hiding underneath it. The black pumps that adorned your feet made a clicking sound as you walked back and forth and back and forth. Every time you passed by Jim’s open office door, he looked up from his paperwork in the hope of catching a glimpse. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

Neither could Phil.

Why did that make him seethe with jealousy?

Deep down, he knew why. He knew why seeing another man’s eyes rake over your body drove him absolutely insane.

He knew it was because that body had been writhing underneath him a mere seven hours ago. He knew it was because when you woke up next to him this morning, all you wanted was his dick in your mouth. He knew that you were probably still thinking about the way he railed you before your morning shower with your hair wrapped around his fist. How could you not be? He certainly was.

You were walking around the station with a familiar swing in your hips, a skip in your step, humming one of your favorite songs. Flo had commented that you were in a surprisingly good mood for a Monday morning. No one knew the things the two of you did off the clock and Jim wasn’t sure if they should. He didn’t want people to think you only had a job because you were screwing the chief. You deserved a better reputation than the one he had earned.

Jim heard the clicking of your heels getting closer as you approached his office. “Hey chief,” you say, rapping your knuckles against the door frame. You held a brown folder in your hand. “Whatcha got?” Hopper asks, holding his hand out to take the folder. Before you could respond, you slowly pushed the door closed. “Somethin’ serious?” Jim raises an eyebrow at your actions but doesn’t question you further. You set the folder down on his desk gently.

“I can feel your eyes on me every time I walk by,” you say, sitting in the chair opposite his desk and crossing your legs at the knee. Hopper leans back in his chair, stretching his legs out. You can feel the tip of his shoe rub against your ankle. “Yeah?” He remarks, “Can you feel Callahan’s too?” You nod, rolling your eyes, “Of course I can, but you looking up from your paperwork each time I walk by is what’s got me distracted.”

Hopper smirks, dragging his eyes over your exposed thighs. “Is that so?” He asks, “Not Callahan panting like a dog at your feet?”

You run a hand slowly through your hair, flipping it to one side. “Phil has been like that since high school. Unfortunately, he doesn’t seem to realize that if he hasn’t gotten any from me by now, he never will,” you explain. Hopper nods, his face emotionless as he moves his legs away from you. You follow his actions and lean in toward his desk.

“Besides,” you say, “I’ve had a lot on my mind today and I can’t say Phil Callahan has crossed it even once. You, on the other hand…”

“Me?” Jim asks, leaning back in his chair with his hands crossed behind his head, “What about me?”

He knows what he’s doing. That was your invitation and he knows you’ll take it. He watches as your mouth quirks up the tiniest bit in the corner, always one for a challenge. Hopper watches intently as you stand and make your way around the desk. He happily obliges when you motion for him to push his chair back a bit.

His hands immediately fly to the backs of your thighs when you straddle him and he has to hold back a groan as your hot pussy brushes against him. He takes in a sharp breath as you lean close to his ear.

“The chief wants to know what I’m thinkin’?” Your breath is hot against the shell of his ear. He nods, rubbing his hands from the backs of your knees to the curve of your ass. “I’m thinkin’ about your cock, chief, and how it feels when you’re filling up my pussy,” you place a kiss on the side of his neck, “I’m thinkin’ about laying back on this desk so you can fuck me right now.”

Jim presses his face in the crook of your neck to hide his groan. He hopes his office is far enough away from everyone so they can’t hear him. “You feel too good, baby,” he thrusts his hips up, trying to get closer but there are too many layers, “You know I’ll be too loud.”

You kiss him, deep and hard, taking his hands and pushing them onto your ass. “Maybe Phil will hear you and realize he doesn’t stand a chance,” you whisper with a smirk against his mouth. Hopper squeezes your ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

You push yourself back up into a standing position, then take a seat on his desk. “So, are you gonna help me?” You ask, placing your right foot on the arm of his chair, feeling your skirt ride up. His eyes rake over you, going from your hip to your ankle, and you can tell his fingers are itching to touch you. “Or am I gonna have to do it myself?” You lift your left leg and place it on the opposite arm, exposing yourself to him. You trail your fingers down between your legs, feeling the wet heat that has soaked your panties.

“Touch me,” you whine, pushing your panties to the side to thrust a finger deep into your throbbing pussy, “please.” He watches under hooded eyes, his hands resting on your ankles. Your finger circles your clit and you hold back a moan, remembering that there’s only a door separating the two of you from everyone else. His hands creep higher and he traces lightly across your skin. “Unbutton your shirt,” he murmurs. You pull your fingers away from your pussy, wet and glistening, and slowly slip your buttons open.

One by one, you expose the skin of your chest to him. He can see the black lace of your bra and the swell of your breasts, heaving up and down as you pull your shirt off. “Fuck,” he mutters, “You’re so damn beautiful.” He gets closer to you with these words, filling the space between your thighs. He places a kiss at the base of your throat and you gasp as his beard tickles your skin. “Jim…” you groan, “I need you right now.”

He stands, crowding you, towering over you, with one hand on his belt buckle. You can see how hard he is, how his big dick strains against his uniform pants. “You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you on my desk?” He asks under his breath, palming himself over his pants. You nod, lying back over folders and papers. He hooks a finger in each cup of your bra and pulls, exposing your tight, hard nipples. “You are so turned on, baby,” he whispers against your nipple before wrapping his lips around you, “Bet that sweet pussy is soaked.”

A chill runs down your spine at his words. You want nothing more than to have him ram his thick cock inside of you, but his tongue on your tits is driving you absolutely insane. You wrap your legs around his waist. “Jim, please,” you’re getting desperate at this point. You want him inside you now.

His belt falls open first. Then he pops open the button and lowers the zipper. You’re one layer away from finally feeling him. You tighten your legs and pull him into you, whining when you feel his length pressed against you. “Easy, baby,” he says softly, “Be patient.”

He pulls away from you and pushes his boxers down, finally. His cock bobs between the two of you and he hisses when the cool air hits him. He pumps himself a few times while you watch, wetness pooling between your legs. You want your panties off, you want him to fill you up, you want to feel him. “You ready for this cock, baby?” He says. You nod, “I’ve been ready. You know this pussy is yours.” He smirks, reaches under your skirt, and pulls your panties down your legs in one movement. You squirm as he takes his place back between your thighs. The head of his cock brushes against you and you moan, bucking your hips towards him.

Jim is grinning; he loves seeing how much you want him, how much you need him.

“You want it all?”

You nod again.

He pushes into you, so familiar, so filling. He groans into your mouth, bites down on your lip, and pumps his hips back and forth. You’re gripping his biceps, your noses are touching, and his eyes are trained on yours.

“Atta girl,” he groans, “Atta fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this. Taking my cock on my desk at the station. You think Callahan could take you like this? You think Callahan could make your pussy this wet?”

You shake your head.

“You want Callahan to fuck you on his desk out there? You wanna tease him until he can’t take it anymore?”

His thrusts are getting sloppy, his desk is creaking beneath you. He’s already gotten you there twice and is working towards a third. “Oh…baby…girl…fuck,” he moans, his words each enunciated by a snap of his hips. Your hands are gripping the hair at the base of his neck and you know without a doubt that your bottom lip will have an intense indent from your teeth.

“You want my cum? You want it deep inside this pussy?” He growls. You nod, unable to form words, unable to think with the cloud of bliss that is currently fogging up your brain. “Use your words, baby. I wanna hear you…” he says, gripping your wrists and slamming them down on his desk above your head. “Yes,” you whisper, your voice shaking, “Yes, please, cum inside me.”

Suddenly, you feel like a rubber band snaps somewhere deep inside of you. Your back arches off of the desk and your eyes squeeze shut; you wish he didn’t have your hands pinned above your head because you’d love to dig your nails into his strong shoulders. Then he’s moaning - loud and deep, while he spills himself inside of you. Your body goes limp as he wraps his arms around you. He’s so warm and you cry out at the absence of his heat when he pulls out of you. “Jim…” you whine.

“Shh,” he says, digging through his drawers to find a random towel that he knows is buried in there somewhere. It’s scratchy and has a couple of holes, but he uses it to clean you up. His rough grips have turned to soft touches. He gingerly puts your heels back on your feet while you fix your bra and pull your shirt back on. When you stand, he pulls the bottom of your skirt down and gives your ass a gentle squeeze.

It’s a silent remark, something that tells you he enjoyed himself, that he loves you, and that he wouldn’t mind a round two this evening when you both get home.

“How do I look?” You ask, gesturing to your hair. Hopper leans back in his chair and lights a cigarette, “Gorgeous, as always.”

You smooth your hands through your hair and quickly swipe under your eyes, realizing then that you’ve been in Hopper’s office for far too long, your mascara is far too smeared, and your once crisp and perfect shirt is far too wrinkled.

With one last glance at him, you reach for his office door handle and pull it open. An officer is standing there, frozen in place with his fist in the air as though he was about to knock. You slip past him, grab a stack of folders on your way back to your desk, and call over your shoulder, “Oh, hi Phil!”

[littlemissvincentvega]

MORNING WOOD / a perv!hopper one shot 💕

a/n: yes i know i actually wrote something for the first time in a century i had muse and i was horny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway hi everyone hope you enjoy 🥺

18+ explicit content / perv! jim hopper x his hand (fem! reader)

cw: masturbation, mention of facefucking and p in v sex. implied age gap. just a lot of dirty thoughts from our lovely chief of police

Something of an annoyed groan, thick with sleep, came from Jim Hopper's throat that morning. He had (like normal) been drinking the night before, enjoying the evening to himself-- settled in his armchair with a pack of cigarettes and a few beers to keep him company, a family-size pack of chips in case he got hungry. He rolled over in bed, the muscles in his back tensing as he reached over to take his alarm clock in his hand to check the time-- fine, it wasn't too late for him to have an enjoyable, slow start to the day. The last thing Hopper enjoyed doing was rushing around before work. He wasn't exactly a morning person in the first place.

Jim pushed the clock back onto the bedside table and rolled onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. He was pondering what to do about his morning wood, actually, thinking back to the dream he was having before his body decided it was time to wake up. He never was that talented at recalling dreams, but he definitely remembered the images that had blessed his sleep that night.

Hopper was aquainted with you purely because you both lived in the same trailer park. You knew he was the Chief of Police and you always made an effort to say hello, ask him how his day was going. And, whether you knew it or not, you were inadvertently making him more and more curious. He wondered why you bothered to speak to him at all-- he wasn't the most approachable guy. Hopper had a good heart and the majority of the people in Hawkins knew that, but he had a stoic persona that a lot of people were intimidated by. Not you, though. But why?

Maybe it was the tight shirts you wore without bothering to put on a bra underneath (surely you knew he could see your nipples?), or maybe it was that you liked to wear shorts or skirts that showed a little too much of your asscheeks (it was like you wanted him to look). But Jim Hopper wanted to see what was underneath. Not just beneath your attire, but what was behind that sickly-sweet innocent persona you were putting out to the world. Perhaps it wasn't an act at all and he was just being perverted, but Jim liked to imagine you were, deep down, pure filth.

Jim's hand closed around his member, eyes falling closed as a relieved breath escaped his lips. He began to pump himself to the thought of you. In his mind, you were at his mercy. You'd been batting those damn eyelashes at him far too long and far too many times for him to just write you off as a 'nice kid'. No, he wanted to see you on your knees, lips parted and ready to gag on his size. Hopper wondered if you'd liked to be facefucked by him, imagined how your ample tits would bounce. He'd smudge your lipstick and guide those pretty little lips expertly, make you gag just enough so tears would sting your eyes and smear your mascara. He grunted, squeezing his length. Yes, he'd like that.

But facefucking you wouldn't be enough, he thought. He'd felt bad so many times for allowing his gaze to roam your body whether you knew he was looking or not-- how couldn't he, though, when you were wearing shit like that? No, he would have to get you into submission. It wouldn't take much, he imagined, if you were as slutty as he thought you were. You had to be. No, facefucking was your warm up.

Hopper's grip on himself tightened and he picked up the pace at which he jerked himself, little grunts here and there erupting from deep inside of him. He imagined the noises that would come from you when he pushed his tip inside of that little pussy of yours. Jim convinced himself that you would have the perfect pussy, that he would just need to be patient because, and he knew this, his cock was an impressive size. Yes, he had the length, but he was also thick. And he knew women needed a little love and patience to be able to take all of him-- which was exactly what he would do with you. Jim imagined how good it would feel once you accomodated his size, how you would clench around his cock and scream when he rocked his hips against yours. He wondered if you'd still call him Chief-- he especially liked that in the bedroom. It was one of the things he got off to the most.

The thought that pushed Hopper over the edge was imagining the way you'd tremble and shake beneath his large frame after he helped you reach your climax. He'd gently squeeze your nipple, using his thumb on his other hand to rub sweet little circles on your throbbing bud. Your clenching around his cock would put him into overdrive and he would have to ask permission to unload in your pretty little cunt. And you'd say yes, intoxicated by everything about him. He'd bury his face in the curve of your neck, slamming into you, stubble rough against your skin as he fucked his seed deep inside your hole. "Oh-- oh, fuck," Hopper grunted, feeling his stomach tense. Throbbing cock began to pulse and empty itself, semen gently spraying out and collecting in his pubic hair. It was an unholy amount, he thought, chest rising & falling as he attempted to bring himself back to reality. The poor man didn't know how he'd face you when he left for work that morning... but, hey, at least his morning wood was taken care of!

PART 2

[umnitsa]

Come Christmas Morning...

Summary: Your husband always has a special gift for you come Christmas morning.

A/N: I caved in. I did it, I wrote Santa. And I am not remotely sorry. This was a gift for @kittyshead, who inspires me to no end with her Santa fic. I really hope you all enjoy it!

Pairing: Santa x Mrs. Claus!reader

CW: Somnophilia (but with blanket consent and encouragement), a fuckload of fluff and sex <3

******

It was a Christmas tradition for Santa Claus. A naughty one, but there were perks to not being on the list, and this indeed was one of them.

It all started one Christmas, Santa Claus tiredly arriving home the morning of the 25th of December after an exhausting night of delivering presents. You, delightful wife of his (always a good girl), were still fast asleep. You looked so beautiful in the first light of the morning; he wanted you… But decided you were too beautiful to wake up quickly, so he spent long minutes caressing your hair, your arms, and your face until you woke up in bliss, your husband pressed by your side, his cock against your thigh, hard, pulsing against your skin.

He whispered soft words of praise, describing how beautiful, how peaceful you looked, asleep. You encouraged him to move further every year, ensuring he knew how much you enjoyed waking up in his arms, telling him how much you looked forward to the first lights of Christmas morning.

Until it became a tradition. Until neither of you could imagine spending the morning of the 25th otherwise.

Santa Claus sneaked into his own bedroom, as he did so many mornings before, and the irony didn’t escape him. It never did.

Suppressing a chuckle, he placed the sack on the reading armchair you kept in the room, then quickly removed his gloves, his hat, and his boots. He then proceeded to take off his jacket and leather vest, all his attention already on the bed. On your peaceful body, languidly stretched against the sheets.

You shifted, lost in some weightless dream. Your husband chuckled low, throwing his shirt and pants aside carelessly. With a smile, he pulled the covers to see what surprise you had for him this year. He skipped a breath as he saw the little satin nightgown—dark red.

He trembled, pulling the sheets, watching the goosebumps raised on your skin by the colder air of the room.

He brushed his lips against your shoulder ever so gently, but you shifted, facing the bed, hugging a pillow, one leg folded. He pulled the covers completely off you, admiring you as the light in the room changed, the first rays of sun invading the room through the window.

Your husband sniffed your hair, the softest of groans coming from him. His hand was already sliding against your side, over the satin, exploring the feel of the fabric against his palm and you.

A slight appreciative noise came from your lips as he petted you slowly, pulling your nightgown up, so he could see your ass and your thighs. He squeezed one asscheek gently, testing how deep into sleep you were. He knew he could proceed when you just sighed, pushing your ass against his hand and slowly arching your back.

For a moment, looking at your bare bottom, he didn’t know what to do, torn between the desire to keep the game longer and the desire to lick your pussy. He cocked his head, considering he never quite found a way to lick you without waking you up. As he considered what to do, he gently grabbed your asscheek and pulled your thighs apart.

He sighed. He had this obsessive thought since he found one of your naughty little notes hidden in the sleigh earlier. Little offerings, images, promises, even begging. It drove him crazy, year after year, little pieces of paper in your handwriting, bearing your desires and wishes. He could even imagine you on the desk, writing them and chuckling to yourself, biting your lower lip, squeezing your thighs together.

He sighed, lost in the images in his head, one thick finger already sliding in and out of you, agonizingly slowly. You were already wet, some touching before sleeping, a good dream; maybe you sensed his presence, his scent even in your sleep.

Santa sucked on his finger, a moan escaping him at your taste. You shifted with the sound but didn’t really change your position. He had to be more careful.

With light touches, he maneuvered your legs until his cock was pressed against your pussy. He stayed still for a long while, enjoying your heat burning against his skin.

You moved your shoulders languidly, and Santa knew he had little time before you woke from your slumber by the way you sighed. He couldn’t resist the temptation of rubbing his cock against your clit, slowly, even with the risk of waking you up earlier than he intended. Your mewls were worth the risk.

He pushed into you, ever so slowly, as gently as he could, trying to stretch those final moments for as long as possible. Your eyes fluttered open as your body raised from the deep, peaceful feeling of sleep to the searing ecstasy of pleasure.

You moaned weakly, his hands moving to cup your breasts, pinching your nipple between his thick fingers.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Claus.” He growled softly, his hips moving with purpose now, long slow thrusts.

You opened your eyes, your mind hazy with sleep and pleasure, and as your vision focused, you gasped.

Your husband towered over your body on the bed, his hands worshipping your body, holding it for dear life, unwilling to release you. He smiled, his silver hair falling messily over his face. Your eyes trailed down his broad chest, tense with his effort not to just thrust into you hard and fast.

You took a moment to enjoy his tattooed chest and shoulders, the drawings snaking over his arms. You loved them, and the scars, they were all little reminders of life before, a reminder of the man your husband was and the trophies for the man he became.

“You’re so beautiful.” He moaned, thrusting slightly faster. Your body felt like paradise, warm, welcoming, pulling him in. You grabbed his chest, your nails leaving tiny marks along the drawings on his chest. “You’re such a good girl. Leaving notes so I would feel less lonely. Teasing me with every little surprise…”

Santa lowered his body against yours, covering you, his hair falling on your face. Without slowing his thrusts, he kissed you deeply, the thirst of a hungry man; even one night apart was torture.

You came, whimpering against his lips, the way he held you tipping you over the delightful abyss. His infinite passion for you was palpable in how he touched your body; you could feel it inside yourself, sparkling under your skin.

He kept kissing your lips gently, insistently, grunts and groans pouring into your mouth.

“My beautiful wife…” He whispered as he came, his rhythm faltering, then slowing until his hips stopped.

You chuckled, feeling light, even with his body covering yours. Santa nuzzled your cheek and your neck, kissing every now and then.

“I really want to taste you, but I need a moment.” He growled against your skin, then chuckled as you played with his hair. “I’m not that young anymore.”

“You aged perfectly.” You rubbed his shoulders, sighing against his solid body. His fingers buried in your hair, he whispered gentle nothings against your skin.

“I’m not finished with you.” He grumbled.

“I’m sure you’re not.” You whisper against his hair. “Merry Christmas, love.”

[nicomundthered]

I saw the gifts from violent night and he is🥵, I know it’s may but what you say about a story with our Santa daddy, thank youu

Santa May-be?

pairing: Nicomund(Santa) x fem! reader

summary: you are being very naughty, and Santa decides to make a surprise visit.

tags: 18+ this is mostly smut, a little fluff, but it’s really just smut.

word count: 7k | ao3

a/n: just going to be completely honest here, I don't know where this came from. Apparently I've been neglecting David because damn! I got carried away. I hope you were asking for smut because this is f*cking filthy. Like really this is only my second attempt at smut and…I am kinda scared.

Anyway thank you for the request, and I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+

Even Santa gets horny in May as it turns out.

Which was unusual. Nicomund has been Santa Claus for over a thousand years now. Time was different for him. One day out of the year felt like weeks, while the other 364 flew by.

That was at least until he started sleeping with you.

It had become his favorite part about Christmas which in retrospect was unfortunate. It used to be solely–unselfishly, for the kids but now…now he could not wait for his present. Which just so happened to be you.

Yes, since you entered his life he struggled through the other 364 days.

It didn't help that you were being unusually active this week. He sat in his workshop and had your notifications turned up loudly on his naughty/nice list. With each naughty deed you did, Carol of the Bells played loudly in the wrong key- indicating that you were in fact, being naughty.

At first he found it amusing, but after the third time just this morning he was getting pissed.

He knew what you were doing. You weren't a bad girl, at least not in the literal sense. No, you only pinged up naughty when you pleasured yourself or had sex. And that wasn't normal for the list. It normally kept zero tabs on people's sexual encounters. He wasn't exactly sure as to why it focused on yours.

Well he might have an idea – you see he and the list were…connected. And the things that he deemed naughty became naughty. He had that power and he himself had no clue how to control it, it just happened.

And for some reason, whatever did control it, had fixated on you.

He didn't have the tendency for jealousy, but he had grown quite enamored by you. It started a few Christmases ago when he heard you soft gasps as you were masterbating in your bedroom. He wasn't being pervy or anything, but the only thing you wanted that year was a toy. And he had it wrapped and in his hand. He only wanted to help you (at least that's what he told himself).

You were shocked at first but then saw the large and attractive man, and invited him to show you how it worked. He stayed for far so long that he had to practically throw the rest of the presents down their respective chimneys as he quickly darted around the rest of the world.

The year after, he brought you a new toy. One that he had made himself, out of a cast of his own erect penis. He’ll never forget how entranced you were by it. The way you told him how big and beautiful it was. The way you wrapped your fingers around it while making eye contact with him.

And it wasn’t until the Christmas after that that he even fucked you. When you held his cock in your hand the first time you muttered in his ear, “I knew it was yours”.

And last Christmas things had escalated. After three rounds and a few hours, he had told you his name. And then for a reason he had absolutely no fucking clue why, he told you about his past while you were satiated and playing with his chest hair.

It was domestic and he didn't do domestic. He was an ancient mythical being, not a human.

In short he had no clue what you were doing to him. You were always on his mind and you were making him very jealous and painfully horny in May. A point in his year that usually flew by, came to a sudden standstill.

If this happened in July at least he could use Christmas in July as an excuse…but May??? It wasn't even halfway until Christmas.

His head snapped as he heard Carol of the Bells again and just like Pavlov's dog, his cock responded to the sound. Blood quickly engorged his member and his balls tightened as if already ready for release.

He had it bad.

He pulled his cock from his red silk pants. He was already leaking and he knew this wouldn't take long at all. This was his fourth painful erection of the day and he was red and sensitive.

He annoyingly looked over to his trash bin and saw all of the used tissues just from today, mere hours in fact. You were turning him into a damn sex puppet is what you were doing.

He didn't bother wetting his hand as he roughly gripped his aching cock. He wanted the burn, he welcomed the pain. Maybe if he jerked off enough like this it would have an adverse reaction and stop him from getting SO damn hard everytime he thought about you.

It took seven, maybe eight rough tugs, all he had to do was think about you enjoying the toy he made you. Then he cried out as his painfully throbbing member spilled his seed- shooting it out all over his hand, pants, and desk.

This time there was very little satisfaction, he sought this release out of necessity because he didn't have the self discipline to not think about you. His cock was very raw now and he grunted and shuddered as he carefully placed himself back in his underwear.

After his breathing and wandering mind calmed down, he put himself in a bad mood picturing you at someone else's house. He angrily smacked his desk and then threw his stein- still full of steaming hot coffee against the wall of his workshop.

He huffed, dramatically crossed his arms, and sat back in his chair. He thought he was above this but as it turns out he wasn't. He opened his desk drawer and rolled out his large map. He spoke your name and his magical map located you.

Miami, Florida.

That explains it, he thought. At the beach, on a vacation…with whom he wondered. Who was so good that you had to be with them four times in a day?

Turns out you were with a couple of friends, all of which he knew of. But then he came across somebody new. Well not new to him, but most certainly new to you.

And this dude made Nicomund’s skin crawl. He had been on the naughty list his whole life, and not because of something particular that Nicomund just happened to make up. No, this guy was actually by the literal definition naughty. Most alarmingly, he's been known to treat women poorly.

Oh no, this won't do.

You were an angel and deserved to be treated like one. You were way too good for this piece of shit and if Nicomund was thinking clearly, he'd have noticed just how possessive he was becoming over you.

But he wasn't. He changed his clothes with an angry scowl on his face.

Now where was his sunglasses?

You were having an ok time. Your friends were already on the beach and your boyfriend was out buying alcohol for tonight. So you were enjoying a little, much needed alone time.

And by much needed, you mean – you finally got to cum.

Your boyfriend had fucked you three times this morning. Once he came so quickly and you didn't even have time to become lubricated. The second time he got into the shower right after he finished. You had enough time to grab Nicomund’s dildo from your bag, and god did you come quickly as the fullness stretched you.

The third time, if you even count it as such, he just wanted you to blow him before he left. You got on your knees and took his average dick down your throat and had him cumming in under four minutes.

As soon as he left you got out the dildo again and came even quicker than he had. It was nowhere near as satisfying as the real thing, but it most certainly was better than any alternative.

Little did either of you know that the cast he made of himself was magical. And that everytime you used it he could feel the phantom grasp of your wet pussy and you could feel his warm velvet hardness. What he attributed to his Pavlovian response or his imaginative mind was actually just your magical cunt. And what you thought was just being properly filled was actually his perfect erection.

You'd both eventually figure this out and make proper use of it and maybe find out new abilities, but at this time you were both clueless.

You cleaned up your mess. You always flooded any surface you were on when you used the toy. And then you put on your bikini. It was red and the bottoms showed…a lot of your ass, but this was for the most part an adult beach so you didn't find yourself embarrassed or worried about children's eyes.

Just as you grabbed the sunscreen there was a loud banging at the door. On first instinct you grabbed your phone and a heavy sculpture of a seahorse to use for self defense. Which looked ridiculous but you knew how people robbed these beach houses. Then you walked over to the door.

You desperately hoped that it was just one of your friends needing to use the bathroom or your boyfriend with his handful of groceries, but you knew that it hadn't been long enough for that.

The banging happened again, this time louder and more persistent.

“Who is it?” you said as confidently as you could manage.

“Open up,” the voice was muffled through the thick door but it was still loud and to be honest scary as fuck.

“Not until you tell me who it is.”

You could almost hear a growl through the door, which sounded oddly familiar. “If you don’t open this door right now you wont get anything for Christmas this year.”

It only took your brain seconds to put the pieces together, “Nic?”

“Yes, now open up or I’ll break down the door.”

You complied quickly and swung open the door, almost dropping the heavy seahorse in your hand.

Your eyes widened when you saw him. He was wearing a short sleeve red and green Hawaiian shirt and black shorts that almost looked like swim trunks. He had on sunglasses and his hair was in a bun.

This would be funny – this should be funny. Santa Claus in Miami dressed to go to the beach should be humorous. But it soooo wasn't.

It was rare you two were ever standing when you were around one another and if you were, he was holding you up, so you sometimes forgot just how tall he was.

His arms and shoulders looked absolutely massive. You practically gulped when you remembered just how strong they are. He looked a little leaner to you. Probably because of the time of the year. You wanted him healthy but you almost frowned – you really liked his belly.

But what was most striking to you was his skin. True you had seen him naked many times but always at night, with soft lighting. Now you could see just how milky white he was in contrast to his numerous tattoos. How absolutely soft and smooth his skin appeared, which you knew was factual. And now the smattering of dark gray almost black hairs on his forearms stood out.

He made your mouth water.

But when you had snapped out of your daze you got worried. Why was he here?

“Is everything ok?” you asked with true concern displayed on your features. Your only contact with him was on the night before Christmas. What was he doing here in May?

He looked like he was snapping out of a daze of his own, “No, everything's not ok,” he ground out through his clenched teeth.

He opened the door further and stepped inside.

“Where is he?”

“Who?” you knew who he was probably talking about but your brain wasn't exactly functioning currently.

“You know damn well who I'm talking about.” He called out a few times and looked around. When he was satisfied he looked back at you.

Oh, he was jealous. The thought made you press your thighs together.

He noticed and it made him take a deep controlling breath in. He threw off his sunglasses not caring in the slightest where they landed.

“Shut the damn door and come here.”

You turned quickly and shut the door, but struggled to lock it because of what all was in your hands.

You heard him hiss. You then blushed as you realized your almost bare ass was now facing him. You then heard his heavy footsteps behind you.

“You are having such a naughty year,” he grabbed both of your ass cheeks that were hanging out of your skimpy bikini bottoms.

He smacked them a few times and watched them jiggle, he felt himself immediately harden. “On full display for the world to see. Do you have any idea how many people you'll put on the naughty list wearing this?”

He suddenly yanked them down your legs and pressed your front half hard against the door, while bringing your bottom half up and closer to him. You dropped both the seahorse and your phone. Both shattered but thankfully missed your feet, you didn't flinch, there was only one thing on your mind.

He shoved his face into your crease.

With your face to the door you didn't even notice that he had gotten on his knees, and you moaned in surprise and absolute delight as he put his face into you from behind.

He lifted his face by the smallest of margins from your center, “When I passed you I could smell him on you,” he went back to your crease momentarily and hummed, “I only smell you now.”

“Oh gah,” you felt a wave of moisture flood you. You may be naughty but he was dirty, and man was it a turn on for you.

“I was worried,” he used his nose to run through your folds, “Don’t want you to smell like anyone else.” He had no clue what he was admitting to you, you didn't either- you were far too aroused.

“Nic–”

He suddenly added his tongue to the mix. Licking you up and down, “You don't taste like him either,” he lapped at your entrance tasting your wetness, “Just taste like mine.”

You moaned sinfully, “Let’s go to the…”

He lunged his tongue into your tight wet little hole. It made you arch back and jam your ass hard into his face.

“Yes, just like that.” he groaned loudly, vibrating your core. You could barely hear him over his face being absolutely suffocated by you. You weren't worried for him though, he loved it when you sat on his face. And the amount of times he's asked you to do it…you knew that his lung capacity was very good.

Juices and his drool were flowing down your thighs and down his chin soaking the collar of his shirt. The wet lapping of his tongue and your ragged breathing were the only two sounds.

His tongue went farther and somehow farther still, until he started poking at your favorite spot. You start clawing at the door, and you almost couldn't believe it – you were about to come on his tongue.

Now you could blame it on many things, after all you were extremely sensitive and yearning from a day of unfulfilling activities, but regardless, when his tongue started poking your g-spot you started squirting all on him.

He was absolutely relentless until he got a somewhat heavy flow started and then he just opened his mouth and drank you in.

“That's a good girl, give it to me,” he said as you continued to rain down into his mouth.

Your legs started shaking and you suddenly felt like you could no longer stand. He read you perfectly and stood lifting your trembling soaked body up with his.

You put your arms around him and looked at him in such a pleasant daze. You softly gasped as you saw how blown his pupils were, more black than blue. His beard was absolutely soaked making it look a couple of shades darker, and he had a smirk on his handsome face.

You cupped his face with both hands and kissed him, tasting the salty-sweet tang from yourself along with Nicomund’s wonderfully delicious mouth. And then you pulled away from the kiss and smacked at his frim chest.

“What do you think you're doing?”

He laughed and started walking you to the bedroom.

“You can't just fuck me –”

He threw you to the center of the large bed. That only shut you up for a second.

“I have a boyfriend you can't just —”

He laid halfway across the bed just so he was face to face with your drenched swollen cunt. He roughly parted your legs. “There she is,” his voice was low as he complimented your pussy.

“Nic…OH!”

He roughly pressed his face into you again. Though this time since he is facing it, his tongue and nose kept brushing your overly sensitive clit, making it a very different experience.

He used his hands for the first time and reached up to grab your covered breasts. His large hands covered them as he not so gently massaged them. Your nipples were already painfully hard and that made him hum into your core once again.

“Take this off,” he commanded as he started to make out with your folds. The smacking sounds of his skillful lips just made you wetter.

You complied quickly, jerking the top over your head. You propped yourself on your elbows so you could look down at him.

His mouth then began to suck. He sucked each fold, and then not as an afterthought, but instead to build the anticipation he finally finally sucked your clit.

Your eyes rolled back a little and you gave a throaty exhale.

He paused and chuckled into you. He released your breasts and moved his hands underneath you to slightly tip your hips up for him. “Hold your legs out for me.”

You did as he requested and held your ankles and spread your legs as wide as you could. You felt your muscles stretch but wanted to give him as much access as you were able to.

He tilted you up a little more, and then started moving you up and down on his face as he continued to lick. The rocking motion was helping him reach the whole length of your crease quickly. The sloppy wet sounds kept getting louder as he kept moving you against his face.

You were moaning like crazy now, and just when you felt your legs start to ache from the stretch he pushed your legs together and pushed them up and back towards your head in a half-backwards roll. He held your legs together tightly.

From this position he could tell just how pink and puffy he had made your pussy, “You like this baby?” he playfully smacked your sensitive cunt a few times. The smacking sounded wet and little drops of your arousal splashed all over the bed and drenched his hand.

“Yes!” he barely gave you a chance to yelp out before he pushed his middle finger inside of you.

“Oh sweetheart you are already gripping me like you're about to cum.”

His voice shot straight through you making you grip even tighter and flutter around his large digit. He pumped in and out a few times, moving slowly, driving you insane. Of course now he'd choose to play with you.

“Give me my finger back baby,” he laughed and slowly pulled it out of you. A long strand of your arousal followed and he slurped it all into his mouth, “I’m not done eating you yet. You taste so damn good.”

He pushed your legs back farther behind your head and held your hips high up towards his face. He was now kneeling on the bed, with a huge tent in his shorts, you desperately tried to grab it. He moved his hips just out of your grasp, “Not yet. You don't get what you want yet. You've been a bad girl.”

He held your cunt so high up now he barely had to bow his head to reach it. You crossed your ankles behind your head as he started to move his mouth against you roughly. Your own body was bent far and weighed down by your lower half, it made it hard to breathe, but the constricted airflow somehow turned you on even further.

He sped his licking, with one hand keeping your legs together while the other occasionally smacked your ass. His beard was beginning to burn you in the best way possible.

“Nicomund pleeeaseee.”

It was the sound of his full name that made him give you pity. If this were up to him he would continue to lick and suck you for hours. He loved your taste and smell, and just getting it once a year was nowhere near enough.

Almost reluctantly he slowly placed two fingers inside of you, you moaned at the stretch, and then he focused on sucking your swollen clit while pumping into you, curling his fingers with each insertion.

It took absolutely no time and you exploded on his fingers. Gravity caused your cum to dribble down your stomach past your breasts. You felt the sheets beneath you soak. And this time your vision did fade out but only momentarily.

As you came down you were still pulsing, and then all of the sudden you felt the pressure again. All of the sudden it felt like too much. He was still licking, even quicker it felt like. You desperately tried to back away, the overstimulation was extreme.

“Nic, st- stop.” you kept trying to slide back but he held you firmly. You weren't going anywhere.

His licking and slurping became even more intense, and in record time your eyes rolled way back into your head and your body shook violently. You tried to push his head away, but by the way you were cumming he could tell that you didn't mean it.

When you finally started to come down from your third orgasm he dramatically slowed down his sucking and moved back to slow licks up and down your slit.

You jerk slightly every time he made it past your clit but it was bearable. He was slowly coaxing you down, almost lovingly you thought.

When you finally could open your eyes, you looked up at him and smiled. He gave you a suck on your inner thigh that would leave a mark. You knew that he did it for one specific reason, but you didn't really want to think about what this meant for your relationship…if you could even call it that. But that was to think about later…

After you’ve had his cock.

“Hey,” you said as he slowly laid your lower half down and then crawled his way up your damp body. He was still fully clothed and as he laid gently on top of you and gave you a deep kiss, you had the thought that he was soaking up your juices with his shirt for later. That's how he was, dirty.

“Hey,” he said after the breathtakingly sweet kiss.

“What are you doing here?” you moved a strand of hair that fell from his bun out of the way.

“Christmas is too far away.”

You looked at him as if to say yeaaaah?

“I- I missed you.”

You smiled and kissed him again.

“I missed you too.”

“Did you you?” he looked at you skeptically, his brows furrowing, “Seems like you've been filling your time with –”

“Shut up,” and then you chuckled.

“What?” he said, almost annoyed.

“I am making Father Christmas jealous. Who woulda thought it?” you laughed again.

“It’s not funny. He's not a good guy.”

“I’m a grown woman and I can take care of myself,” you reached down and grabbed his hard as steel cock.

He visibly shuddered as you started slowly moving up and down his clothed erection, “He’s- he is not…been on the – for all, of…his - life.”

“Shhh it's ok,” you soothed as he struggled speaking. “Let me take care of you now.”

He nodded, completely silent except for his deep breaths in and out from his nose.

This was unusual for him and you filed it back into your mind to bring up later. He was normally rough and dominant, which to be fair he has been, but suddenly he had given you all the power. Like he desperately needed this but was too proud to tell you that.

You slid down his shorts and gasped at how purple and engorged he seemed.

“I've had an- eventful day as well.”

You grabbed him softly because he almost looked like he was in pain, and you didn't want to hurt him.

“Don’t you dare. Grab it!”

You did firmly, and his head bowed and touched your forehead, “Fuck you have no- no idea how- how good that feels.” he kissed you again, you bit his bottom lip and he groaned into your mouth.

“Lay back,” you whispered.

He did and your hands left his cock and started unbuttoning his shirt. He grunted in displeasure, “Get back down there now,” he yanked the shirt off buttons flying everywhere and the material ripped in two.

You pussy pulsed at the sight. He was just so fucking strong.

You moved down him slowly wanting to tease but knowing by the look of his purple leaking member, he wasn't up for that.

And besides, now you knew that it was time to treat him. Little did he know that for the past five or so months, ok it was after you begged to suck him off last Christmas but he didn't let you, since then you've been practicing on his dildo. You could now take almost all of it down your throat and you couldn't wait to show him.

You took him in your hand and gave his leaking slit a lick. He was salty and musky just like you liked him.

His hips jerked up and you playfully said, “I believe after what you put me through –”

“Please don’t, I ne- need you now.”

You realized that for him to ask this he was desperate. And judging by the look of him, he was in pain.

You nodded your ok and his shoulders relaxed a little.

Then you laid on your stomach and propped yourself up on his thick thighs. You gave him a few firm strokes and then licked the underside of him. He groaned and you smirked, you were about to blow his mind.

You sucked on his tip and he squirmed. He opened his mouth to beg again, you knew it, you could see it in his body language and so you abruptly opened your throat and swallowed him down.

His upper and lower body jerked up like he was trying to do an abdominal exercise. His eyes shot to you, wide and shocked, and he hissed out “Oh fuck!”

You stayed all the way to his base. Your nose in his curls and your chin pressed to his balls. You counted to fifteen slowly.

For the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do. His fists gripped the sheets roughly, peeling them from the mattress. His breathing was almost embarrassingly loud and his sole focus was on not spilling down your glorious throat.

You slowly sucked your way off of him. Spit connected you to his cock even as you pulled away to smile at him.

“I can't take much of that baby.”

“Much of what?” you smirked and launched him down your throat again. This time with his cock sheathed you moved your tongue and lapped at his balls. You were proud of yourself and only slightly gagged once.

This time he was better prepared but only just, “Your boyfriend teach you that?”

You knew that he was desperately trying to keep from cumming. He was wound tighter than you'd ever seen him, his muscles were flexed and shaking, but for some reason he didn't want to cum yet. You imagine that mentioning your boyfriend did bring his arousal down a few notches.

“Nope,” you said as your mouth popped off of him. “I've been practicing on your dildo for your Christmas present.”

His mouth opened in disbelief. Naughty!!!

“That’s very –”

You went down again, but this time continued moving at a slow pace – all the way to the tip of him, down all the way to his base.

That sparked something in him and he put one hand on the back of your head and one caressed your throat. He pushed your head up and down roughly, while simultaneously feeling his cock make your throat swell. Believe it or not this was the first time that he'd actually experienced true deepthroat.

Others had tried but he was too long and girthy, but you, you naughty thing- were taking him like it was your only mission.

Controlling your gag reflex made your eyes tear up and turn red. Spit was pouring out of your mouth now and puddling at his base. He was being rough but it was the good kind of rough. You wanted him to enjoy this, you had practiced a lot for this moment.

And by the looks of him he was most certainly enjoying it. More hair had spilled from his bun. His skin was tinged pink and had a thin sheen of sweat. Every line and wrinkle on his face was amplified by his scrunched up expression, fully concentrated on what you were doing.

He had kept your mouth off of him for the most part in your previous encounters. That was because he enjoyed being inside of you so much he didn't want to waste a minute. But what he just found out was that he was still inside of you this way. And it shocked him at how much you seemed to be enjoying it as well.

You pulled away needing a breather and to give your jaw a little break. You gasped for air a few times and spit all the saliva pouring out of your mouth onto his cock.

You went back down quickly taking him off guard this time. You wanted to feel him spill down your throat, and by the way his head shot back and his balls tightened you knew that any second now you were going to get what you wanted.

“Off,” he practically croaked.

You kept sucking, your sounds were getting ridiculously sloppy.

“Get off,” you could tell that his heart wasn't in his command. He tried to move your head back but you stubbornly fought back, taking him deep.

“STOP IT!” his yell made you still and he pulled your head from him, you sucked as hard as you could on the way up. “Fuck!”

He pulled you to him so your mouth was nowhere near his throbbing member. He took a couple of deep breaths and tried his best to get off the edge. He managed but only just, and only with his eyes glued shut.

“Did you like that?” you cooed as you rubbed his broad-heaving chest.

“You know I fucking did.” He pulled you down for a kiss. You lost your balance and landed on top of him.Your lips were sensitive from the work they’d just done, and his beard lightly tickled them.

Then he absolutely claimed your mouth, every nook was his.

He never enjoyed kissing this much, but kissing you was different. There was something he liked about it, a little too much. He loved your soft lips and when your tongue danced with his it turned him on so much.

“I need you to get on all fours. And I need you to cum quickly.” You continued kissing him and made your way down his neck. “You hear me?”

He rubbed his hand on your lower back as you continued to nip and suck on his neck. You made your way to a scar on his clavicle. He hissed and then smacked your ass, stopping your descent.

“Hey!” You whined.

“I said, did you hear me?”

You shook your head no and moved back in for a kiss. Your eyes were heavily lidded and your own arousal was back at full volume. You were so far gone you couldn't concentrate.

He held you back, “Hey, look at me.”

You did. You blinked at him almost lazily, and bit your lip.

“Don’t fucking look at me like that.” His thumb caressed your bottom lip as your teeth released it. You suckled at his digit. His eyes darkened even further and he slowly said, “I need you to get on your hands and your knees and I need you to cum quick sweetheart.”

You complied and slowly got into position. You were thankful that he wanted you this way. You never lasted long when he took you from behind.

He sat up and damn near passed out. There was too much blood heading south and not enough heading to his brain. He waited until his head rush went away and scooted behind you.

He rammed into you suddenly. You were both so well lubricated he knew that he could without causing you any pain, well real pain at least.

“Nic!”

He took no mercy. He was gone, long gone. His cock disappeared into you fully. He pistoned into you with short, rough strokes. Hitting you right where you needed to be hit repeatedly.

You rested your upper body on the bed, sticking your hips higher. Which made him ram into your spot even harder. You put your arms behind you and he held on to them tightly.

You were going to cum if he kept up his pace. You felt yourself begin to flutter around him.

“That’s it baby. You're such a good girl, listening to me so well.” His hips were smacking into yours with a wet slapping sound that seemed to echo throughout the room.

“Please please please.” You started pushing back into him desperately as he pushed forward.

“I’ve got you.” He reached around and started circling your clit.

“God, I’m gonna, Nic I’m gonna — ”

“Cum for me.”

And you most certainly did. You strangled his cock with your contractions and practically screamed, “Nicomund!”

He almost sobbed at the feeling of you cumming around him. It’s what he’s desperately needed for five long months. He felt your cum coat him as you screamed his real name, and at the last squeeze of your intense orgasm, he came.

He came so hard he yelled your name loudly. His hands grabbed your hips roughly and he wished he could let up, he didn’t want to bruise you, but he needed something to tether him to the earth – to keep him from passing out on top of you.

You made him cum so hard he was dizzy.

He spurted into you, filling you up fully. You felt his hard cock twitching inside of you and you felt his warmth flood you, gushing out as he continued to ram into you.

He came for so long that you were impressed. His cock seemed to twitch inside of you for minutes.

As he slowly regained his senses, he gently attempted to sooth your hips – where he had held on for dear life by softly rubbing them. He pulled out slowly and you both hissed at the loss.

But you knew to stay absolutely still.

He bent down and watched some of your mingled cum pour out of you. Then he licked you clean. Normally he would clean you by eating you out until you came again, but he knew that you were absolutely spent, so he kept it to the bare minimum. Lazily drinking what he could, as you squeezed out what he left behind.

He sighed contently as he laid on the bed and pulled you to him. You immediately snuggled into him and placed your hand on his chest.

You both laid there in a comfortable silence. You felt so at peace when you were in his arms. So very safe and warm. It was your favorite place to be. You cared for him, and you didn’t think that he knew that.

But you also felt like that this whole relationship thing, or whatever it was, was his call. He knew more than you did, and had more riding on it than you. Though, you couldn't help it, you really wanted to tell him what he meant to you.

How you felt when he was around. How you thought about him throughout the year. How you couldn’t wait for December. How he was making you wish your life away by always wanting it to be Christmas Eve.

“What are you thinking?” His voice was so soft and gravely.

“Nothing.”

He lifted his head up and looked down at you, raising his eyebrow in disbelief.

“I just — this was fun.”

He rubbed your back, “It was.” He was silent for a second and then continued, “Listen, maybe we need to come up with a way to do this more than once a year.”

You looked up at him and your face was absolutely beaming up at him. “That sounds good.”

“Yeah?” He smiled.

“Yeah. That would be great Nic.” You moved your hand down to his belly and gave him a hug.

He pulled you tighter into the hug and kissed the top of your head.

“I have one condition.”

You tensed a little having no idea what he was going to say. “What is it?”

“You're mine alone.”

You took a moment to really decide if that was what you wanted. It didn’t take long in all honesty, you just didn’t want him to know just how much this meant to you.

“I’m yours.”

He looked shocked and something almost sinister clouded his eyes, he felt possessive again. Hearing you say that snapped something in him, or rather, maybe it tore something down.

“Can I request the same from you? I- it’s ok if — ”

“You’re it.”

You smiled again, he could feel your cheeks move against his skin, and you pressed a kiss on a deep scar on his chest.

The two of you laid there for a few more minutes. When your eyes became heavy and your breath deepened, he gently shook you.

“I have to leave.”

“I don’t want you to go,” you held him tighter.

“I don’t want to go. Believe me, but I have to.”

“I know. I’d never keep you from being Santa Claus.”

You both slowly sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He looked over at you seriously. His brows furrowed and his hands gripped his knees.

What you had said affected him so deeply.

When you had mentioned him being Santa it was like throwing ice water in his face. He would never stop being Santa Claus, and you only had a couple decades left of your life. He fought the sudden urge to walk away from it all, and stay in this bed for as long as you had left.

You moved in front of him and stood between his legs. You pulled his head to your chest and you rubbed the back of his head lovingly. He wrapped his arms around you and looked up at you.

“Whatever we can have Nicomund. That is what I want.”

His damn eyes teared up and you leaned down and kissed him.

“I don’t want you to but you need to go. You have a lot of work to do.”

He laughed, and then sighed, “It seems like it never ends.” He was thankful you had quickly moved on because he was a heartbeat away from giving you absolutely everything.

You backed away from him. “When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to have to invent a way for us to communicate.”

“No phones?”

“Not at the North Pole I’m afraid.”

“Oh…”

“But don’t worry, I'll think of something. It’s kinda my thing.”

You laughed and he stood up and towered over you. Gosh he was so tall. He kissed you again and then smiled at you.

He put on his shorts and slid on his shoes. He found both halves of his shirt and slung it over his shoulder. He used magic and cleaned and straightened the bed.

You walked him to the door where he used his magic to fix your phone and the stupid seahorse sculpture.

“Why don’t you just fix your shirt?”

He smirked at you, “Oh you know why.” He tilted his head, pressed his nose into the fabric, and took a deep sniff.

You reddened and were about to say something when the son of a bitch touched his nose and disappeared.

He wouldn’t get away with this, you’d make sure of it.

THE END

[call-me-little-sunshine84]

Taking Control (Jim Hopper x female reader ~ 18+)

Characters: Jim "Chief" Hopper x female reader

Rating: Explicit ~ Minors DNI. Seriously.

Words: 1.5k

Summary: Hopper works out some of his anger while in the bedroom with you

Warnings: smut, basically porn with no plot, oral sex, unprotected sex, dom/sub undertones (kind of), orgasm delay/denial

A/N: This is probably the filthiest one shot I've written, and the first time I've attempted to do mean/dom Hopper vibes. I hope it's good!

You knew as soon as Hopper came through the front door exactly how his day had gone. Anger was etched on every line of his face; you could practically feel it radiating off of his large frame. "What happened?” you asked, concerned. “Same shit, different day,” he grumbled. This seemed to happen more and more, and you were worried that all the stress was going to eventually catch up with him. You had tried to get him to come up with something he could do to relax to no avail. For as long as you had been with him, the man had never had an off button. 

Today, though, an idea ran through your mind, a way to hopefully erase the bad mood he was in. You grabbed his hand and led him toward your bedroom. “Come with me,” you said, giving him that look, and he cocked his eyebrow at you and followed you down the hall. Once you reached the doorway to the room, you leaned in and kissed him, long and lingering. “It’s pretty simple. You need to blow off some serious steam. I want you to work out some of your anger. I want you to be in total control of me tonight. Tell me what to do,” you said. The look on his face, a mix of disbelief and excitement, was priceless. “What? We’ve never done anything like that. Are you sure?” he questioned. “Yes, baby, I think you need this. I want to give it to you. I trust you not to take it too far,” you replied. And you did. He would never do anything to hurt you. “Okay, if you’re sure. Just let me know if you want to stop,” he said, looking at you with those gorgeous blue eyes. 

It was like a switch flipped in him. He pushed you inside the room. He kissed you roughly, all tongue and teeth. He nipped at your bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood. Something deep inside you seemed to wake up in response to this new side of him. You tried to wrap your arms around him, but he growled at you. “No touching. Not yet,” he said, his eyes darkening. Oh my God, this is so fucking hot you thought, feeling the slickness pooling between your legs already. “On your knees,” he commanded, and you did so immediately. He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and dropped them to the floor. “Suck my dick,” he told you, putting one hand on the back of your head and pushing you toward him. You were more than happy to oblige, grasping his already hard length in your hand and licking a stripe up his shaft. You took him completely in your mouth, tasting the saltiness of his precum. You moved up and down rhythmically, taking him in as far as you could. 

"Look at you, blowing me like a good little whore,” he said, leaning his head back and grunting. You could feel your cunt clenching at his words. He had never talked to you like that, and honestly, you liked it. He started moving his hips, slowly thrusting into your mouth. It was almost too much, the feeling of him hitting all the way in the back of your throat. You dug your nails into his ass cheeks, trying to keep it up, to give him what he wanted. Suddenly he pushed you back, away from him. “You’re a little too good at that,” he said, and your body sang at his praise. 

He grabbed your hands and pulled you off the floor, then pushed you toward the bed. “Take your clothes off. I want to see your body,” he told you. You slowly took off your t-shirt, then your jeans, standing in front of him in just your bra and panties. He devoured you with his eyes, which were darkened and clouded with lust. “Lose those too,” he said. You did, tossing them off to the side.

“On the bed. Put your hands above your head,” he said. You raised an eyebrow. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” he growled. “Yes sir,” you replied, doing as you were told. He removed his shirt, now also completely naked, and grabbed his pants off the floor. He retrieved his handcuffs off of his belt and closed the distance between you. 

Oh shit you thought. This is about to get really good . He crawled toward you on the bed and adjusted one handcuff down onto your right hand. He ran the chain around a post on the headboard and closed the other cuff around your left hand. You squirmed, not liking that you still couldn’t touch him. “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked. You could only moan in response as he started kissing his way down your body. He stopped at your breasts, alternating between pinching and biting your hardened nipples. You arched your back, trying to get some kind of relief for the constantly building need inside you. 

“Be still,” he instructed, and you whined. He licked a trail down your torso to your center, teeth biting at you as he went. You knew you would be covered in marks tomorrow, but you didn’t care. You just wanted more , to give yourself over to him completely. He roughly shoved your legs apart. “You’re practically dripping already, and I’ve barely touched you. Such a needy girl,” he teased. You could feel the heat pulsing through you and thought if he didn’t touch you soon, you might just die. 

Suddenly he shoved his tongue inside your slick folds, licking a slow trail to land on your clit. You ground your aching pussy against his mouth, begging for more. He licked and sucked, finally giving you what you needed. “Yes, Hop, right there,” you gasped, feeling your impending orgasm already right around the corner. He felt it too and abruptly pulled himself away from you. “You only cum when I say you can,” he said, and for a moment you wanted to hit him right in the face. 

“Then you better fuck me soon, or I will find a way out of these handcuffs, even if I have to break my wrists,” you snarled at him. He laughed at the anger and desperation in your voice. “Yes ma’am,” he said with a mock salute. "So impatient, you can’t wait to have my cock inside you, can you?” he asked. He lowered his body over yours, and you tingled with anticipation. He began to enter you, so very slowly. He put just his tip inside you and then removed it, over and over again, teasing you so deliciously. You whimpered and bucked your body against his, desperate for him to bottom out in you. Finally, he shoved himself all the way inside you, and you yelled his name over and over like a chorus, pleasure momentarily blinding your vision. He began thrusting at a frenetic pace, gripping your hips with bruising strength, sweat dripping down his forehead. He looked so damn sexy, and you didn’t think you could hold out much longer. 

He then took one hand and wrapped it around your throat. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was enough to make you realize this might be something you enjoyed. He squeezed a little harder, noticing the way you tightened your pussy down around him. “So, you like it when I choke you, huh? You’re my good little slut, aren’t you,” he asked as he kept one hand on your throat and moving the other down to make lazy circles on your clit, all while still thrusting in and out of you. 

“Please, Hop, can I cum now,” you begged, at least as much as you could with his hand still tight around your throat. Your body felt like it was about to explode; everything was electric. “Yes, you’ve been good for me tonight. Let go, baby,” he replied. He removed his hand from your throat, and you sucked in a deep breath, your entire body on fire. You could feel the pressure inside continuously building until you couldn’t take it anymore. That invisible coil inside you finally snapped and wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you. 

“Oh my God, Hop, yes!” you screamed, trying so hard to touch him even though you were still handcuffed. He pounded into you relentlessly, seeking his own ending. It wasn’t long before he found it, thrusting as hard as he could as he covered your walls with his release. 

He quickly let you out of the handcuffs, and you began rubbing your wrists. He looked at you, concerned. “I’m fine, I promise,” you told him. He leaned in and gently kissed you on the cheek. “Thank you,” he said. “For what?” you asked, confused. “For tonight. You always know exactly what I need”.

 “I know,” you replied with a grin. “It’s a gift.”