#usin your tongue as an ash tray . . . | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

urdinosaurs · 11 months

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. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇 𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 ࿐ྂ | 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍

⇢ PROMPT: i saw your comment @hoesindifferentshows talking about "Oh my god imagine sucking his dick and he lays his head back and takes a drag from his blunt 🥹"

⇢ WARNINGS: blowjob, no p in v, cum eating, throat fucking, hobie is just really high while getting his dick sucked,

you know what? you're right. you're so right it's almost unbelievable. from this post here

hobie doesn't smoke fags often. it just isn't his thing. he's a weed person, gets it from his bandmates, who regularly buy. it's usually after shows that he and his band smoke a couple of joints, talk about the show, or throw around ideas for the next. it's a good way to end off the night, and usually, he goes home with a small baggy and some rolling paper he bought off them.

tonight's one of those nights he decides to indulge himself after a long day and rolls a blunt. it's a process he's perfected after so long of doing, and soon enough, he's bringing the lighter to his lips, taking a slow drag, savoring it, and falling back into the cushions with his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

the lighter falls back on the table, and languidly he stares up at the ceiling, pushing the smoke past his lips in a thin stream before letting it fan out above him. the hand with the blunt between his fingers rests on the back of the sofa, the other reaching down to gently stroke the top of your head. he caresses the side of your face in reassurance and encouragement, the cold metal of his many stacked rings cooling your flushed skin.

his hips buck into your mouth with a satisfied grunt at a particularly sensational twist of your soft hand around his dick, and he can feel your smile at his reaction when you press a feather-light kiss to the tip. a groan reverberates from the back of his throat at the sensation.

hobie takes another drag, his eyes twisting shut in pleasure as your jaw starts to move, head bobbing up and down his pulsating shaft. the feeling of your lips wrapped around him is intensified by the smoke, his cock much more sensitive to your ministrations than usual, which is why it jumps when your tongue slides across the underside, whimpers tearing from his throat.

"ya', just like that, luv, too good wit' it." hobie's head falls back, sighing as his lips wrap around the stick, fingers pinching it before leaning forward, tapping the ashes into the tray. he slumps back, relaxing further into the wet heat of your mouth, the weed unwinding his body until he's a mess of loose limbs. hobie breathes more of the joint, slouching further into the couch, his legs spreading with his airy headspace.

"atta girl. takin' it so good, usin' your mouth like it's 'posed to be used." his tongue flicks out of his jaws to wet his lips, the appendage flashing with his silver piercing in the moonlight.

his head lolls back, lips parted as he blows a ring, savoring the feeling of your throat constricting around him. he takes another hit, flicking it into the ashtray as he decides he's done with the slow tempo you've set, and takes his thick fingers to grab the back of your head and push you further down on his cock.

your throat convulses momentarily as you adjust to the rhythm change, and his hips jerk off the couch, the grip tightening around your hair as he moans. the tight heat of your esophagus constricting has his pace stuttering, more precum spilling down it.

"fuckin' hell, luv," he curses before his hand relaxes, his hips sloppily thrust up into your throat, chasing his high the only way he could with his clouded mind. he's getting himself more worked up, drawing more noises out of you, only for them to be muffled by his dick down your throat. drool leaks from the corners of your mouth, unable to be held in with the force of his thrusts. hobie builds a fast, messy, and sloppy pace, his focus drifting but still high enough to enhance and quicken his release.

"that's it, 'bout to cum. shit- you're a fuckin' dream. 'm gonna make a mess of your throat," slurred words spew out of his mouth just as his cum spills down your throat. his back arches, and a low moan escapes him as pure euphoria surges through his veins like a continuous pulse of electricity. slipping back into the cushions, you prolong his orgasm with clever flicks and strokes of your tongue, riding his release in a way he never has before, his body trembling with the aftershocks.

he lets go of your head, his tilted back while he catches his breath. he feels you gently leave him, and his spent cock bobs against his stomach. his neck rolls around to look down at you. his brown eyes are rimmed with a light shade of red, unfocused and hazy with arousal.

"'i'd reckon that's 'bout the best orgasm i've ever 'ad, luv." he lazily grins, hands moving from your hair to travel down your skin layered in a thin sheen of sweat, cupping your face in appreciation. his thumb rubs tenderly down your features, admiring you before tapping his lap.

his thighs spread, making room as you climb on top of him, resting a hand on his chest to steady yourself. he's already hard again when you brush up against him. his fingers dig into the fat of your hips, pulling another blunt from where it sat next to the ashtray.

ahh, i hope you guys saw that the title was inspired by the k.flay song! i promise i'm not a fake fan by using her most popular song :(

"ready for round two?"

#🦕 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝓁𝓎𝓁𝒶 𝓌𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒𝓈 #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown #hobie x reader #hobie brown atsv #hobie headcanons #hobie x you #hobie atsv #spiderpunk #astv hobie #urdinosaurs spider verse

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eyesfixedonthesun22 · 5 years

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Three Simple Rules

Summary: Jim Hopper is a fan of three simple rules in all aspects of his life. Easy to follow. Uncomplicated. That is...until he decides to break rule #3, with his secretary, on his desk. Pairing: Jim Hopper x Female Reader Warning(s): Smut 18+, possessive Hopper, canon level cigarette smoking, implied age gap Word Count: 2,014 Beta Reader: The stunning and sexy @supersoldiersruined-me. Notes: This was my first request! I hope I did your wish justice, @fandomfic-galore. Request Message:

For the Jim fic I was thinking of something like he has a new PA and she gets caught doing something she shouldn’t. Something naughty and he wants to teach her a lesson in his office. Haha. After your exam of course.

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It’s 10:15 a.m. There’s not a clock in sight but you know it must be true. The squeal and slam of the Blazer’s door followed by the heavy crunch of gravel up to the police station door are as good as second and minute hands. Hopper isn’t much for reliability in other areas but he is reliably late to work.

“You know that is just so interesting.”

The extra flirty inflections on your words is unnecessary, truth be told, but it felt like a cherry on top. You’ve slung your torso over the young deputy’s desk in a way that’s far too inviting. Your shirt, usually quite office appropriate but currently unbuttoned an extra button, crept down just deep enough you could tell he had a good look down your front. Your pencil skirt rode up high enough you should move to adjust it but—

The door slams open as Jim Hopper enters the office. He’s mid-sentence, trying to brush off Flo’s chiding, when he greeted by a prime view of your ass propped up in front of him.

“Is Callahan bothering you, sweetheart?”

You can see his jaw tick and the tone of his voice is just above growl. Flo’s eyes flit back and forth between you and the chief.

“I’m so sorry, Hopper. These young ones nowadays. She’s still learning her duties.”

It’s true. You had only been hired as a secondary secretary at the Hawkin’s Police Department just about a month ago. In actuality, you were quite bright. You’d picked up on all the secretarial tasks rapidly. If anything, you were bored at your job. Which could possibly explain your current antics.

Jim eyes you up and down analyzing the scene before him. His eyes pause on the swell of your breasts visible and plump under the undone button, the extra length of silky exposed thigh from your tight skirt, and then back up to your blushing cheeks. His eyes narrow and his nostrils flare. Busted.

“That’s okay, Flo. I’ll have a word with her.” You and Florence begin to apologize in unison but it’s clear the topic isn’t up for discussion. Hopper places a large hand on your shoulder gently directing you to his office. “Let’s talk...alone.”

The last word had a deadly lilt to it. For a split second, you wonder if you’ve taken this whole thing too far. You don’t get to continue the thought as the heavy oak door of his office clicks closed. Hopper stalks over to the only window in his office and harshly tugs the blinds closed. It’s with an eerie grace, he sits down on the edge of his desk and lights a cigarette.

“Hopper, I…” The look he shoots you stops you in your tracks. “Jim, I’m sorry.”

He huffs a heavy cloud of smoke out from his lungs that would make a steam engine jealous. At the end of the exhale, his lips play into a sharp smirk as if he’s enjoying your discomfort. The two of you sit in the office in silence with only the clicking of his clock proving the time is passing. He stares you in the eye before beginning.

“Okay, so let me get this straight in my head…” The pause between his sentences is pregnant with anticipation. He takes a long drag from his smoke and continues, “You thought it was a brilliant idea to flirt with Phil Callahan.”

“I can explain.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

“You’re the one who—” His brows raise towards his hairline but you trudge on with as much conviction as you can muster. “You’re the one who started something he couldn’t finish this morning.”

He takes a third drag; groaning as he exhales. The smoke curls in tendrils around the coarse hair of his mustache before dissipating into the room. The sound shoots tingles straight between your thighs. He strides with a grace all too foreign on his large frame and sits in the chair behind his desk. Another guttural sound escapes his lips while he contemplates your sin. The smoke and emotionally charged atmosphere have turned the small office into an oppressive sauna.

“That’s fine. That’s just fine.” His tone indicates it’s anything but fine. “You’re a needy little one aren’t you? Was last night not enough for you?”

The temperature of your skin, near boiling in anticipation, deepens across your chest and cheeks under his accusation. Despite the shame and heat radiating off your skin another heat has settled at the apex of your thighs. Hopper had made the terms of your arrangement very clear. Three simple rules.

You were his and no one else's. He does not share.

This could end at any time. Attachment isn’t his thing.

Absolutely zero discussion of the arrangement or acting “familiar” at work, in town, or around anyone else.

Yet, here he wasn’t actively talking about the two of you, like that, at work. Sure, you were behind closed doors in his office but that seemed menial protection at best.

“I asked you a question, dammit.” His hand slams on the desk. He manages to keep the volume of his voice in check. “Last night wasn’t enough so you thought it was a good idea to come in here advertise yourself like some ten dollar hooker for Phil?”

He’s not being fair. You had certainly been looking for punishment but he’s hitting low blows. Your instincts wants to curse and spit; anything to fight back and defend yourself. Your body seems to have other thoughts. The timbre and power behind his voice have you soaked and your brain clouded.

“I just wanted…”

“What? What did you want that was so damn important?” You hang your head shamefully. His posture changes. “I see. You wanted to be punished.”

The booming chuckle stings. You know it’s mocking. His first cigarette is gone. He tamps down the last of the ashes in the tray in time with his laughter.

“Well since you know best, get on with it.”

Your face screws up in confusion. What was he asking? For you to beg? Ask forgiveness? He couldn’t possibly be giving you what you want so easily. He flicks his lighter open and ignites before leaning back in his desk chair. He holds the white stick between his plump pink lips and rips open the belt and zipper of his pants.

He takes a long drag. You always found it annoyingly attractive how he holds them, pinched tightly between his thumb and index, gesticulating with them when he needs to make a particular point in a conversation. The smoky undertones that cling to his lips whenever you dipped your tongue inside.

“You know I looked up one time how long it takes a cigarette to burn down. Average is five to seven minutes. I even timed myself when I was younger and first started smoking. It’s a stupid thing.” You’re still paralyzed on the chair across from him waiting for the punchline. “I used to average five minutes. No idea how long it takes me now. You have until this is finished to do things your way, since you seem to want to call the shots, and bounce that pretty little ass up and down on my cock.”

“And when it's done?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see won’t you, sweetheart?”

You should have been embarrassed at the speed of which you jumped up to take his hardening cock out of his pants. You lick him only twice; engulfing him all the way into your mouth the second time before straddling his lap. You’re still sore from the events of last night. You ruck your skirt up higher and pull your panties to the side. You try to have him enter you slowly but his hips buck into you; stretching you so deliciously from the inside.

“Don’t pretend like you’re not dripping, sweetheart.”

He wasn’t wrong. He makes no move to touch your breasts or guide your hips. You’re on your own working yourself up and down on his length while trying to balance your weight on the desk chair.

He’s leaned far back taking drag after drag off his smoke. When a quarter of it is gone, you’ve settled in your rhythm. When half is gone ripples of pleasure have settled low in your pelvis; the beginnings of something begging to be unleashed. When a quarter remains, your fists are bunched in Hoppers uniform biting the back of your hand to keep your pants and moans at an acceptable volume. The entire time Jim hasn’t moved. One hand is tucked smugly behind his head as he leans and the other only moves to bring the cigarette from the ashtray to his lips and back again.

“Times up, sweetheart.”

“Wait! I’m so close!”

“I don’t fucking care! Times up!”

He stands, easily carrying the weight of you, and roughly presses your back against the cool wood of his desk with his own wood still deep inside you. His hulking frame hunches over you briefly planting a sloppy but much needed kiss on your lips. He tugs your hips off the desk so they’re supported only by his huge palms.

“Look down, baby. Look at me inside you. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to see you like this. Spread wide, taking my cock so fucking well on my desk.” Your core clenches as he pumps in and out of you wildly. You adored when he was like this; brutish and wild. A Hopper only you got to see.

A knock on the door interrupts your haze of lust.

“The door isn’t locked! Hopper, the door isn’t locked?!”

“It doesn’t have a lock.” His palm smacks a stinging blow against your ass. “That doesn’t mean I’m stopping.”

His pace is bruising and brutal only interspersed by the occasional biting smack from his hands on your flesh. You feel yourself inch further away from him from the power of his thrusts. A frustrated hand grips you hip tightly and the other plants firmly on your neck. Using each pressure point of your body for leverage, he resumes his punishment. Another knock sounds against the door; louder and more urgent.

“I’m busy!” He bellows at the door. “Can you imagine it, sweetheart. Phil barging in here seeing you choked out, ass red, and taking my fat cock.”

That nearly pushes you over the edge. Your tiny hand sandwiches his on your throat pressing a bit harder. He meets your gaze knowing what your asking. The pressure increases on your windpipe. You couldn’t tell him how much you loved it even if you wanted to. He grinds his pelvis into yours like he does when his own release is close. Another couple of thrusts and you’re clenching and spasming around him while he empties in you warm and sticky.

The first breath of air is cold and gulped down greedily.

“Chief!” The knocking returns. “We got a call. I really think we should go check this out.”

“In a second!”

He kisses you tenderly and helps you straighten yourself before tucking himself back in his pants.

“Too far, sweetheart?”

“No, Hop. Just far enough.”

“I don’t hate it by the way. The whole, flirting with the other guys in the office thing.” You straighten his tie and press out wrinkles in the shirt. “You were right. It turns me on. Knowing I’m the one to get to go home and be the one to fuck you into the mattress.”

“The only one, Chief.”

You wink before throwing the door open to the office and returning to reality. Phil stands there eyeing the both of you guiltily. Before you make it back to your own desk, you hear him apologizing to Hopper.

“I’m sorry, Chief. Truly. Shouldn’t be acting like that here at work.”

“You’re right, Phil. Don’t let it happen again.” He sneaks a glance at you, still preening from your words, while he shrugs on his blue jacket with the sherling lapels. “But between you and me, I think she kinda likes it.”

#Jim Hopper x reader #hopper x reader #Jim Hopper #Jim Hopper x you #Jim Hopper smut #hopper x you #Jim Hopper x female reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my writing #my fics #request fic

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