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little-pondhead · 6 months

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Clockwork sneezed.

Then he paused. He never sneezes. He’s a ghost; ghosts don’t get sick. Not since he locked up the last Ghost Virus in his vaults. Why did he sneeze?

He sneezed again. Oh no, was that a headache coming on? His eyes felt tired and his skin was itchy. Was that a tickle in his throat?? Were those spots on his arm?? Shit, time to go check on his vaults to make sure nothing escaped. All hell would break loose if there was a ghost epidemic again.

Clockwork turns to leave the room, and in his haste, his scepter taps the very edge of a tall and thin grandfather clock he’d just been working on. The clock was made from a red-stained cottonwood he’d procured from the heart of Kansas many years ago, and it was gilded in delicate gold that shone with age and looked well-loved. Despite its height, the clock was a strong one, and didn’t tip over when the Ghost of Time bumped it.

It did, however, shift a few of the loose cogwheels inside. A few of them dropped out of the clock, and one even fell to the floor and rolled away. The ones that stayed inside rattled ominously for a moment before settling into their new spots. The clock kept ticking, but the time was off now. It skipped a few seconds, just enough for a listener to notice, before suddenly reversing the hour and minute hands.

Too bad there was nobody nearby to pay attention to the now-broken clock.

—

Danny was a strange boy. He knew that. Everyone in Amity knew that. Even his mentor, Clockwork, called him strange every once in a while. He liked being strange. It was fun being unpredictable. Having a Time Medallion stuck in his chest certainly helped in his shenanigans, since it meant he was technically separate from the time streams. He had pulled off more than one prank on his pseudo-grandfather by using this to his advantage.

Sometimes, however, Danny’s freedom from the time stream caused him more trouble than he thought it was worth. Like right now, for example.

He was simply at home, battling dinner with his sister while his parents were making a batch of fudge. Suddenly, Danny felt the time stream shift and writhe in a way he’d never felt before. He shivered and sneezed, thinking nothing of it. Clockwork made tiny adjustments all the time, there was nothing to worry about.

Except there was. When he opened his eyes, there was now a baby in his house.

One minute it was just him and Jazz at the table, the next, a baby in a red high chair was giggling and clapping along with Jazz as she tried to cut up the double-dead hotdogs into smaller bits for the child to eat.

The baby wasn’t a ghost, Danny knew. But when he looked around, evidence of a baby living in the Fenton house laid everywhere. The rocking chair in the living room now had a side table with two empty bottles on it. Pictures hanging in the hall had been changed to include the child. Toys were scattered around every corner, just waiting to be stepped on. Neither Jazz nor his parents had blinked at the sudden change.

In fact, Danny discovered, everyone in Amity Park seemed to think that this baby had always been with them. Even his best friends and rogues didn’t bat an eye! Danny was now a middle child, while everything else stayed the same.

But Danny knew. He knew something was wrong. This baby didn’t belong here.

He had to talk to Clockwork. He had to find out who this child was.

The child named Clark K. Fenton.

#DPxDC #pondhead blurbs #okay stay with me here #clockwork was adjusting Superman’s clock and bumped it #this messed up the timeline #so baby Clark ended up with the Fentons in Illinois instead of with the Kents in Kansas #Danny: who the fuck is this child #Sam and Tucker: >:0!!! don’t talk about your baby brother that way!!!#oh and the K in Clark’s middle name is literally just the letter K #it does not stand for anything in this timeline

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catspawcreates · 3 months

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Ruthlessness is Mercy Upon Ourselves…

This was inspired by @witchysolfan and their SaMS Epic AU (Greek mythology). *edited to their UN on tumblr

If you aren’t familiar, sketch and more below after their video.

youtube

I love angry protective Dadcode. This is a Greek Mythology AU where Bloodmoon is left a wreckage after a battle, but “mercifully” left alive to suffer and Kill Code (separating from Moon magically) is none too happy about this.

If you haven’t listened to Epic the Musical I Highly recommend it! Greek mythology never sounded so good. The animatics all over YouTube are also delightful.

I was so worried about rendering it, but I’m extremely happy with the result. Now the song will continue to be stuck in my head. 😹💕

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seagull-scribbles · 8 months

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Love her even though I’m not supposed to ❤️ she keeps me up

#rottmnt #raphael hamato #casey jones #Cassandra jones #rasey #I don’t ship this version of rasey but I do #they’re lesbians your honour #contemporary style #textures #I love textures #played with some new ones here tooo #messed around with colours and got stuck deciding between these #just really wanted to draw these too because I finally started watching rise properly with my friend after 7 months of saying I would #and the itch was real I HAD to scratch it #we’re halfway through s2 btw #of course we saw s1 case couldn’t lift weights so this would have to be after some rep sessions I think #also Raphs fitting because I have a blood test tomorrow and as she said tests are easy it’s the answers that are hard #anyway shoutout to rena for helping me with the caption #and also to little me who wanted to be the biggest strongest kid and also a little baby who could be carried #both can and will co exist for raph

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fairly-tragic · 8 months

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my mind won’t settle down tonight

#personal #me #mine #self #selfie #here’s my face incase y’all missed it #baby girl #angel baby #cute #girl #my mind is a mess #don’t mind me

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farah-o-0 · 2 months

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Vox.exe has stopped working

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel sir pentious #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel fanart #the tv is buffering #I love you vox but don’t mess with my baby boy #to quote Lucifer #I’m going to fuck you #haha #Emily is cute #fanart #selftaught #sketch #digital drawing #digital art

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tortellinigirl · 5 months

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i think the adult relationship to the childhood dog is something that is so tender and heart-wrenching and important. you are the last vestige of my childhood. you are the sacred keeper of the memories i hold dearest, but you can barely see or hear me anymore. who do i become once you’re gone? where do i turn to remember myself? you’re the last one sitting next to me at the door of a childhood home that no longer exists, waiting patiently for the return of a family that no longer exists. where can i live when you, too, no longer exist? i can’t let go. please don’t make me let go. i know you’ll leave soon. i wish you didn’t have to. but she’s just a dog. her life is short and i will witness her death and i’ve known this from the beginning. i didn’t think it would come so fast. am i ready? have i become someone yet? have i become unrecognizable to her yet? does she still see the child i was? i’m still the child i was. please, don’t forget the child i was. please don’t take her away from me.

#i wrote this and put it in my drafts a few months ago #and now my childhood dog just died and im a complete fucking mess and i keep coming back to this #she was my baby #i got her as a birthday present from my parents #only a couple months before everything fell apart #i didnt know what was going on at home was abuse or that things were bad or that thwy would change #i just knew that my parents got me a puppy so i must be the luckiest girl in the world #and she was with us through all of it #and she knew our pain too #he was the one who wanted to put her in a shock collar #we all cried and begged him not to #she was just as traumatized by him as the rest of us #she was the last thread tying me to a time before i understood how bad things were #i don’t know who to be now #im sorry this is sooooo dramatic #i just loved my puppy #but she was 14 years old and we knew it was coming #i just hoped we’d have her for christmas

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shima-draws · 5 months

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Hiiii I come bearing another OC design WIP, this time it’s YA BOY, the one and only protag boy (from this post!)

He’s a darkness/dragon elemental, the black on his hands and arms is permanent and happened due to an incident in his childhood. He was a bit self conscious of the way his arms looked at first but now he’s totally chill with it (and. When he uses his powers dragons scales sprout on his arms and glow and it’s sick as hell.) He is everything to me and I would die for him and he doesn’t even have a name. WHICH IS WHY I’m letting you guys pick since I’m settled on an “N” name but I’m indecisive <3

#I struggled so so much with this design but it turned out SO nice and I’m so happy with it. UGH just look at him. My fucking BABY BOY #Also his inspo might be a BIT too obvious but you know what. This is my house I do what I want #I can make my characters look however I want them to tee hee <33333 #Don’t say anything tho or I’ll beat you up. Let me have this.#ANYWAY.#Help me pick pretty please 🙏#Polls #Poll #Among the Stars #ATS #Shima’s OCs #I couldn’t pick a design for Kai and now I can’t pick a nickname for this guy. Lol I’m a mess #Shima speaks #THANK YOU MUCH!!!!!

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cupidskissx · 1 year

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hi!! idk if u accept prompts but i love ur monaco malaise and- yeah

mastermind by taylor swift. but make it lestappen

Thank you for the love on Monaco Malaise, it truly mean so much to me! 🥰🤩

*Frantically listens to Mastermind for the first time, downloads lyrics and annotates*

I’ve never had an actual prompt before, 🥹 I’ve been afraid to put the call out, it’s such a lot of pressure and risky 🫣

That being said, I loved writing this! If anyone else has any prompts, please send them my way! I hope you enjoy this little AU, Anon ❤️

~~~

The first time Max saw Charles, he knew.

He wasn’t sure what he knew, but he knew it. Call it luck, lust, or destiny, or perhaps a combination of all three. Whatever it was, he felt it in his bones.

He’d heard whispers Ferrari were considering a new team boss — some hot shot who flew up the ranks at Maranello. However, Max’s two week, no-contact vacation with his mum and sister saw him miss the media storm after Leclerc’s appointment.

The summary of meeting minutes and critical updates that his Executive Assistant compiled upon his return only had him mentioned once, in a two sentence dot point:

Charles Leclerc to replace Frederic Vasseur as Team Principal of Scuderia Ferrari. Effective: 1 January 2028.

It was easily skimmed over in favour of actioning the mass of paperwork requiring his approval.

Maybe if he’d known how this man would shift all his focus and ambition in a matter of moments, he would have at least read his profile online. Or, perhaps issued a full investigation to learn everything there was to know about him — signing it off as: “getting to know your competition”.

Alas, he did neither, leaving the universe — in all her surreptitious glory — to place them in the right place at the right time.

The Bahrain briefing room was hot and stuffy. Max was half out of his jacket when the door opened. An unfamiliar figure squeezed in. He was flushed, his hair spiked up. He had a notebook under his arm, a pen perched behind his ear, and he was struggling to get his phone into the front pocket of his jeans. The meeting was yet to start, but he shot Stefano Domenicali an apologetic look.

The man, who appeared close to his age, secured his phone and scanned the room for an available seat. It was surprising, concerning even, the way Max’s peripheral vision reduced until all he could see was this flustered, handsome man in the doorway.

It was like one of those cliché moments in a rom-com, the lead actress walking in, hit by a spotlight, the only one in the room — Max couldn’t look away. The man’s gaze landed on Max and his lips twitched up in a small smile, enough to make Max’s heart stutter. Max forced himself out of his stupor, smiled back, and continued to take off his jacket.

Niels Wittich tried to squeeze passed the man, knocking into him, forcing him to move out of the way and make a seating decision. He weaved through the row in front of Max, and was considerate enough not to sit directly in front of him, choosing the next seat over. Max surveyed the room, every other Team Principal was there, so that could only mean one thing. He was Charles Leclerc.

Charles settled into his seat and checked the spiral spine of his notebook, he paused. He opened it to a fresh page then started to pat down his pockets. Coming up short, he checked the spine again. Max squeezed his lips together to prevent himself from laughing. Before Charles could frisk his pockets a second time, Max leant forward and tapped his shoulder.

Charles turned around, his furrowed brow smoothing out. Handsome wasn’t all-encompassing enough to describe him. He was ethereal, timeless beauty carved by an ancient, wise deity.

Max didn’t trust his voice so he gestured to his own ear. It took a moment, but Charles’ face split into an embarrassed grin, his dimples popping, and cheeks flushing. He plucked the pen from behind his ear.

“Merci, J’oub— oh, sorry, I just got off the phone with my brother...”

Max didn’t have the opportunity to tell him he understood French — he’d lived in Monaco for long enough — because Charles wiggled the pen and kept speaking, “Thanks, I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

Charles looked down to clip his pen through the wire bound spine as Max said, “Now that would be tragic.”

He looked back in Max’s direction, his smile shy, his eyes twinkling under the fluorescent lights, Max’s chest flooded with smug satisfaction and something else. Something that tingled. And because Charles wasn’t presumptuous, he leant over the back of his chair, offered Max his hand and said: “Charles Leclerc, I’ve taken over from Freddy.”

“Max Verstappen, TP for Red Bull,” he shook his hand, “Enchanté, and all that.”

Charles snorted a laugh, “And all that,” he repeated, his tone soft and warm.

“Welcome to another season gentlemen,” Stefano said from the front of the room.

They broke their lingering handshake, acknowledging that their conversation was over, their smiles faded, and Charles turned around to face the front of the room.

Max peaked over Charles’ shoulder every now and again, watching him write headings, sub headings and dot points in faint, chicken-scratch cursive.

When the presentation moved on to the compulsory, OH&S policies and procedures Charles started to doodle a small race car in the margin of the page.

It was that moment Max knew he was doomed. He had no choice but to wriggle his way into Charles life, or ruin his career trying.

#lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #prompt #I hope you like this Anon and you didn’t mind it being an AU #Lestappen as Team Principals has given me brain rot #destined for their paths to cross in every universe #I’m a mess over this AU idea #let me know if you want me to continue this #or send in headcanons / prompts for them in this AU #watch me abandon Monaco Malaise Part 2 for this world 🫣#<< this is also why I don’t take prompts I try to avoid writing anything else so I don’t lose the spark and abandon my baby #but welp I think I’m addicted now #L's Little Things #Writing and Rambles

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lesbow · 5 months

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Just spent time reading a 50k fic only for them to rewrite Aang killing Ozai at the end I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you I hate you (the concept not the author)

I do not understand why it’s so hard for people to accept that Aang removing Ozai’s bending was the greatest conclusion for their arcs. Could energy bending have been hinted at earlier? Yeah perhaps. But regardless, the whole point of Aang not murdering Ozai + not sparing him either, is to highlight him finally coming into his own.

Aang found a compromise between his monk ideals and the responsibilities of the Avatar. The Fire Nation tried to wipe out his people. Aang is their SOLE survivor, the only one who can preserve their culture. But no matter how different the world looks, he refuses to be seen as a relic of a forgotten people. He is here, now. The Air Nomads did not all die out because he is still here right now and he refuses to let the war say otherwise.

Aang’s arc is about accepting what it means to be the Avatar. He’s spent seasons running from his duties. But it’s not a coincidence the first time Aang ever ran away was from his temple home. Because he has duties as the Avatar but also to his people, and he fled from them both. Because thematically they are one and the same, they are both him.

This is why it’s so important the show ends with Ozai being taken out by unflinching and unapologetic Air Nomad ideals. Him not killing Ozai is a message to everyone that their philosophies are not extinct, even in wartime even after so many are gone.

I can’t stand people who view it as a cop out because it’s not even like Aang spared him. Ozai was a purist who used his extraordinary bending to reign terror and death. Without it, he is nothing because he chose for it to be all he was. Aang quite literally removed a significant chunk of what made up Ozai’s identity. Just because Aang did not maim him physically does not mean Ozai wasn’t served justice.

Ozai abused Fire Nation culture and his role as the Firelord. So in the end, he lost ties to both, and will have to suffer as he watches the world thrive without him. In contrast, Aang mended his own ties, to both the Air Nomads and his role as the Avatar. Ozai lost his sense of identity while Aang restored his.

Aang did his duty as the Avatar and eliminated a world conquering threat. Aang also did his duty to his people and maintained their ideals after the world tried to get rid of them.

Removing Ozai’s bending signifies that he finally, beautifully, learned what it means to be who he is. After seasons of running away, he has come home, to himself, his people, and his duties, and became Avatar Aang.

I, on the other hand, am not an Air Nomad, so the next person that tries to frame the finale as “Nickelodeon were cowards and just didn’t want to show a death” will be getting beat with a bat.

#atla #avatar the last airbender #aang #s: atla #don’t mess with my baby #babbles #aang killing Ozai would be confirming that air nomad ideals cannot exist in wartime #it is basically a massive f*ck you to their ways of life #on the other hand Aang completely sparing Ozai would be a massive f*ck you to the world and survivors that are still there #this is why he finds a BALANCE #it’s about BALANCE #of merging who he used to be with who he needs to be and finally making it who he is now #anyone that’s team ‘should’ve killed Ozai’ can catch these gotdamn hands

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laureliciousdefinition · 2 years

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Help You Unwind | Jim Hopper X Reader

Summary: Hopper comes home tense after a long day at work and you help him relax.

Rating: 18+!!!!! Very smutty!!!!!! Minors begone!!!!

Warnings: blowjobs, dirty talk, mentions of afab genitalia

A/N: okay listen y’all can blame @letterfromvienna for this one bc she posted some filth about hop and my brain simply couldn’t rest until I got this out. It’s 2.7k words of giving him the #sloppy that he deserves and I’m not sorry about it <3

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The low murmur of the TV had been the only sound keeping you company for the last hour or so. You really only had it on for the background noise while you read, though the cabin and its surrounding environment did tend to get a bit eerie at night so it worked out for that as well. Although your current position maybe wasn’t the most attractive-one leg draped over the back of the couch while the other hung lazily off the edge, torso scrunched up with your current read close to your face- it sure as hell was comfortable. This was how you stayed, and planned to stay, until you heard the familiar sound of Jim’s car approaching.

You rearranged your body into a slightly less unflattering position and set down your book, a smile coming to your face as you heard the keys in the door.

“Hey, you,” Hopper said with a sigh, tiredness evident in his voice. A glance at the clock on the side table told you it was late, 11:26 to be exact, though you could’ve guessed as much just from the heaviness in his eyelids and heaviness in his shoulders.

He crossed the room towards the fridge, mindlessly unbuttoning his uniform shirt in an attempt to get more comfortable. As he pulled out a beer, you got up on your knees and leaned your arms on the top of the couch. “Long night?”

“That’s an understatement.”

You knew work had been extra rough on him recently- police presence seemed to be needed significantly more in the summer, what with the local teenagers out of school causing trouble with their parties that they thought they’d cleverly hidden deep enough in the woods, not to mention the heightened traffic from everyone traveling away from Hawkins in search of better vacation spots (not that you could blame them). All this combined with the fact that he now had another life in his home that he needed to keep alive and safe meant that he came home from work most nights completely and utterly exhausted.

It pained you to see him in this state; you knew he was burning himself out. You just wanted to make him feel better again- make him feel as good as he made you feel.

After making his way back towards the living area of the cabin, he slumped down across from you on the couch with a loud grunt before taking a long sip of the beer. As he set it down on the side table next to him, he pat his thigh in an invitation for you to join him, one you gladly took.

Scooting over and settling into his lap comfortably, you wrapped one arm around the back of his neck while the other fiddled with the loose thread sticking out of his uniform collar. “Anything you wanna talk about?” You asked, knowing the answer.

“Nothin’ you need to worry about,” he sighed again before closing his eyes and nestling into your hair. “Just glad to be home. What about you? How was your night?”

Your chest warmed at the feeling of him running his hand gently along your leg. “Relatively uneventful after El left,” you told him.

He didn’t remove himself from your hair but you felt him chuckle a bit. “Yeah, sorry about that. I know you were looking forward to a girl’s night with her.”

That was true- you had planned to spend the evening with El doing typical “girly” stuff, movies, painting nails, etc, and had gotten about one hour in before the phone rang and she was asking if she could go to a sleepover at Max’s. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t sting a little, but you knew she was just a kid and needed to do kid things, so you happily drove her to her friend’s house and painted your own nails in the kitchen before tearing into the pile of unhealthy snacks you’d brought in preparation for the evening.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m glad she has people to ditch me for. Plus I don’t want her thinking I’m playing step-mom and forcing her to hang out with me,” you closed your eyes and smiled mostly to yourself. “It’s okay though, you’re here now.”

“Thank god for that,” he replied, voice seeming distant and allowing you to once again sense the tension that was overwhelming him.

Even if he didn’t want to talk about his problems, you were determined to help him relax even a little. You moved your hand from his shoulder to his scalp, gently scratching your nails across it with no particular pattern. You felt a thrum of satisfaction in your chest after he hummed with pleasure.

“Is that good, honey?” You asked, once again knowing the answer.

He responded with another hum that was muffled into your neck. From this angle you could breathe in his scent- the aftershave still fragrant from that morning mixed with a comforting musk and just the slightest bit of sweat. You continued massaging him for another minute or so, before pulling him back slightly to take in his face. Though his eyes were tired, he still looked at you with enough tenderness to fill your heart ten times over.

“What? Somethin’ on my face?” He asked with a small laugh.

“No, it’s nothing I just… wanted to look at you. I missed you,” you responded, feeling sheepish after your confession while under his loving gaze, despite being the recipient of it more times than you could remember.

He closed the small space between your heads and pressed his lips to yours. It was an innocent kiss, but a full one, and once again your heart felt like it could burst. You pulled back only slightly, placing a hand on the side of his face. He adjusted his grip on your outer thigh, pulling you closer in his lap.

Closing the gap between the two of you once again, you put more into this kiss. A small part of you recognized that he was beyond worn out and should probably just shower and go to sleep, but another (admittedly larger and hornier) part of you recognized that you’d had too much time alone tonight to think about a variety of ways you’d like to help him unwind when he got home, most of them bringing a blush to your face. The larger part won, closing out the argument by reasoning that you were just helping him relax, right?

Your tongue gently moved into his mouth, the kiss deepening while remaining lazy and slow. The hand that rested on the side of his face returned to its previous spot in his hair, though this time it tugged a bit as it arrived. His tongue fell into a familiar rhythm with yours, tasting the sweetness of your mouth that he never got enough of. Once again you pulled away, but only for a moment to rearrange your bodies so your legs were straddled across his lap. His body felt sturdy underneath you and you had to resist grinding yourself against him, already riled up after an evening left to your devices, and subsequent fantasizing.

After a moment you moved your mouth to his ear and leaned in. “I want to make you feel good.” You whispered.

It took a moment for him to respond. “Okay,”Was all he managed.

A short response, but it was all you needed. You giggled lowly, a small yet devious smile coming to your face as you gently took his earlobe between your teeth. His breath hitched and you delicately smoothed your tongue over the same area, then dragged it up the outer shell of his ear. At the same time, your hand cupped his neck and pulled him into you, despite already being as close as you could. You began making your way down his neck, pressing sloppy kisses and nipping slightly as you went along. His hand that had been previously resting by your knees slid up the length of your thighs to lightly squeeze your ass. It didn’t hurt by any means, but you could tell from the pressure and stiffness of his torso that he still wasn’t letting go of the tension.

“You just need to relax, okay baby? I’m gonna take care of you.”

Your voice was almost sickly sweet, dripping with sin. Your eyes matched this sentiment as you placed another tender kiss to his lips, then shifted off of his lap and settled onto the floor in front of him. Maybe it was a bit cliche for you to be on your knees for him, staring up through your lashes with big, gentle eyes- but you couldn’t really find it in you to care.

That said, as you looked up at the man before you, you couldn’t help but feel a bit intimated by his large frame. It was something you normally adored about Jim- his strong arms, his soft belly- but from this angle, he looked downright powerful. Like a king on his throne, strong legs spread to make room just for you. It made you feel even smaller than him than you already were. He was gazing down at you with lowered eyelids, anticipating what was to come but doing his best to conceal it. You didn’t miss the way his hands twitched by his sides, longing to weave themselves into your hair, but staying respectfully in their place. Like this, he was overwhelming in the best way possible.

You raked your nails down his thighs, just enough pressure to make him squirm and flex the strong muscles. You placed a gentle kiss to his clothed knee before reaching towards his belt, not wasting any time getting it undone. Some nights, you chose to painstakingly draw out this process and tease him until he finally snapped and bent you over the table, but you knew better than to do so tonight and chose to get to the point. His breathing deepened as you undid the button at the top of his pants, hands so close to where he wanted them. He was already aching for you- all he’d wanted during the last few hours of his shift was to come home to you and have you saying his name in that pretty way you do when he finally slips into your wet heat.

Grabbing the band of his briefs and his pants, you tugged and he lifted his hips to assist you. His hard length sprung back against his stomach, finally free of restraint. It sent a wave of heat straight to your pussy, but you reminded yourself that this was about him, not you.

A low groan left his mouth as you gingerly wrapped one hand around the base of him. You supposed it made sense for a man as big in stature as him to have such a long, thick cock, but even now you found yourself in awe of it. The first time the two of you had sex he’d had to take things extra slow, pushing in carefully to allow you to adjust. The first time you sucked him off, you weren’t even sure you were going to be able to fit even half of him in your mouth. A small remnant of that apprehension still lingered, but it was much easier to shake away now.

Gripping him firmly, you gave him several solid, slow pumps.

“Fuck, baby.” He leaned his head back over the top of the couch and huffed.

Seeing some of the weight leave his chest as he shut his eyes and went slack jawed sent a wave of pride throughout you. “That’s it, pretty boy. I’m right here. Give it all to me.”

You adjusted your position so you were higher up on your knees, then leaned forward with your hand still wrapped around him and placed your lips on the end of his dick. Flattening your tongue along the underside, you sank your mouth down until it met your fisted hand. You repeated this motion a few times, hearing the pleasure flowing from his throat. On a particularly loud grunt, you twisted your head in sync with your hand and met in the middle, then picked up the pace gradually.

His hands could no longer stay complacent by his sides. He moved them to the back of your head, though they didn’t do anything besides rest there. Meanwhile, his hips arched up ever so slightly, and you knew exactly what he wanted in that moment.

“Use me however you need, baby. Fuck my mouth.” Your hand left it’s spot at the base of his cock and returned to his thick thigh, stroking it absently. After you spoke your mouth returned back to the tip of him, swirling your tongue around it.

Still retaining some semblance of control, he looked down at you. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Despite how decidedly unwholesome this situation was, your heart squeezed at the notion of him wanting to be gentle with you. “I can take it, I promise. I’ll stop you if it’s too much.”

That was enough for Hopper. Slowly at first, he began with shallow thrusts into your mouth. You hollowed your cheeks around him to create more suction, which elicited a deep moan from him before he began moving faster. In response, you let out a moan of your own, knowing the vibrations would make the man shudder.

“Can you take me deeper, sweetheart?” He asked, voice breathy.

Though you didn’t feel particularly sexy doing do, you responded with your best attempt at “mm-hmm”. He chuckled at this before sliding his cock deeper into your mouth. It was uncomfortable at first, he was so big and your mouth was not, and tears pricked at your eyes as he began picking up a faster rhythm. You told yourself to relax your throat as best as you could and take it, knowing how much he needed this release.

“God, fuck. So fuckin’ pretty. Taking me so good.” He gritted out.

Hearing him speak like that made it all worth it.

Once again you felt your pussy squeeze around nothing; he was straight up babbling. You loved when you got him to this point. His brain was a jumbled mess and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

His fingers tightened in your hair. “You gonna let me cum down your throat? I bet you’d like that, dirty girl. I bet you’d take it all so good.” He was thrusting into your mouth in a manner just this side of too much, but you wouldn’t dare stop him now. Not when he was grunting and panting and groaning like this.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his and you nodded as best as you could. Your grip tightened on his upper thighs in preparation.

“That’s right baby girl. You’re such a good girl for me.”

His praise combined with the fact that he was using your mouth as a fuck toy was too much; you had to relieve the ache between your legs. You removed one hand from him and pressed it to your center, groaning around his dick at even the slightest relief being provided for yourself. You didn’t have to make yourself cum, but god, you were so aroused it hurt.

“You touchin’ yourself for me?” His words were rushed. “Fuck, you look so fucking pretty, oh my go-“ his breathing picked up. “M’gonna cum.”

And cum, he did. His seed shot into your mouth and down your throat. His thrusts slowed into long, drawn movements and the noise he made could only be described as a growl. His hands gripped your head and he threw his own back against the couch while you drank it all down, unable to get enough of him.

Both of you out of breath, he reached down to pull you back onto the couch with him. You snuggled into his side and took in his addictive scent once more. This was how the two of you stayed for what you presumed to only be a few minutes, until you were awoken by the national anthem playing through the TV speakers signaling that the broadcast was ending for the night. You turned up to ask Hop to go to bed with you, but seeing the look of content on his face for what had to be the first time that day kept you quiet, and you settled back into him.

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Feedback/interactions are always appreciated<3

#jim hopper smut #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper oneshot #stranger things smut #don’t mess around with Jim baby #i don’t know if this is even good it’s been literal years since I’ve written smut #plz be gentle #it took me so long to write this bc I kept changing my mind on the filth he’d say LOL

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