#david harbour fanfic

[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?”

[boypied]

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

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 5: Hot Chocolate or Tea

Jim Hopper x wife!reader

wc: 0.7k

warnings: literally just tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: Hopper has a special place in my heart and making him happy is the least I can do. Reblog if you enjoyed please, and I'll see you tomorrow for Day 6!

It’s no secret that Jim Hopper is not exactly a happy man. Sure he has his moments, usually when he is around his girls, but the majority of people you ask would say that the Chief of Police generally has the demeanor of a storm cloud. 

That ‘storm cloud’ is currently leaning against the sink in your shared kitchen, wearing a soft worn  New York Jets tee shirt, a pair of Levi's, and grey wool socks. He’s also sporting a comically large whipped cream mustache and pretending not to notice because it makes his daughters laugh. 

Jane’s giggles are hidden behind her own mug full to the top with hot chocolate, whipped cream, and coated with the leftover holiday sprinkles you found in the pantry from last year’s cookie-baking marathon. 

Your youngest, Emmie, though. Her laughter takes over her whole body. It comes straight from her tummy and spills out of her mouth as she throws her head back.

“Daddy!” She yells, “It’s right there!” She tries to point at his face but her shoulders are shaking far too much for her aim to be anywhere close to accurate,

“I don’t know what you’re talking about bug.” Jim takes another sip of his cocoa, making sure to really shove his face deep into the pillow of white floating on the top. 

She bursts out in new peels of laughter and he catches your gaze and winks.

Jane tries and fails to keep in a snort of her own and decides to join in on the fun. She takes a drink and comes up for air with her own, multicolored lip ornament. 

“Janie you have one too!” Emmie yells and her gaze quickly flashes between her father and her older sister. “Mommy look!” She turns to you.

“I don’t know lovebug, I don’t see anything different.” You tilt your head and look back at your little girl. 

“Mommy!” She shrieks and looks at you in disbelief. You have to use every ounce of willpower in your body to not burst out laughing at the look on her face. 

“Emmie, why don’t you show us what you mean?” Jim asks her, a faux look of innocence painting his features.

She looks down at her own Winnie the Pooh mug and steels herself, shoving her face into the whipped cream. She comes up for air a second later, with a whipped cream goatee instead of just a mustache and looks at the three of you before she starts to laugh again.

You quickly run to get the camera sitting on the entryway table next to the kitchen and hustle back. You make it just in time to snap a photo of your family, all sporting some pretty impressive cream facial hair. 

“Alright you three, maybe we drink our cocoa instead of shoving our faces into it.” You relent, grabbing a rag and wetting it in the sink next to Jim. You cross the small space to wipe off Emmie’s face before turning to Jane.

The teenager grumbles but lets you clean her off, and you quickly kiss the crown of her head as a thank you. 

Jim grabs you by your waist and hauls your back into his chest, quickly spinning you so that the two of you are chest to chest. He still has some whipped cream in his actual mustache and you use your thumb to wipe it away. Licking your thumb clean quickly after. 

Jim pulls you closer and into a soft kiss that lingers for a moment or two longer than it really should with children present.

“Mommy ew!” Emmie yells from her seat at the table. 

“Yeah guys, ew.” Jane agrees nodding in agreement at her little sister’s sentiment. 

You turn out of Jim holds and pick up your own mug from where it rested on the counter. You playfully stick your tongue out at the girls. Before taking the first sip of your drink.

Your cocoa is more warm than hot at this point but it’s still delicious. And if you make sure to tilt the mug just right so you come out with a cream ‘stache of your own that’s your own business.

“Mommy!” Emmie yells and her little giggling fit starts all over again. 

[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꒱ ˚

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Jann Mardenborough x reader

Pt.1,Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5,Pt.6

It's finally here," Jann shouted into the phone. There was an excited squeal from the other end. "How does it look, please tell and exaggerate." the female voice on the other phone sounded as excited as Jann himself felt.,, It's amazing Y/N, it fits right into my hands I don't regret the hours I worked." he replied with a dreamy voice. "You must let me play with that new steering wheel sometime ." "Well I don't know Y/N you ruined my score last time." Jann never let Y/N forget how the last time he let her play Gran Turismo she crashed and ruined his score several times in the game. "That was only once." said the woman irritatedly. Both of them laughed amused and warmed it Jann's heart.

All he could remember Y/N was in his life. They got to know each other thanks to the fact that their mothers had been friends for a long time and dreamed that their children would be best friends too. It didn't go smoothly at first because the first thing little Jann did was to pull Y/N on her braid and she slapped him in the face in return. It took a long time for them to reconcile, but to the joy of their mothers, they eventually became good friends. We can't even count how many nights you've spent playing video games, eating junk food, and laughing uncontrollably. But then came a difficult period for Jann. He dropped out of school to pursue his dream of racing but his father wasn't too keen. So when the competition for the best gran turismo player came out and the winner would have the chance to compete professionally, it was clear to you that Jann had to sign up. He gave in to your insistence and it finally paid off. You've never been happier together, you celebrated. But then came the sad part of saying goodbye. You gave each other a last hug and a promise to call each other. You said that you are proud that he goes headlong into it like this and that you are happy when he is following his dream. You stayed with him the longest. You looked into each other's eyes and started thinking about how you will miss him, how he won't always be there to support you. As if you were caught in the moment, you started to get closer to each other, but suddenly someone next to you shouted and that woke you up from the magical moment. You both just cleared your throat. Jann said goodbye and left. And all you had left were tears in your eyes.

So what do you think? I plan to do next part if you want.

I am also open to any requeste.

[wannabespacesmuggler]

J.H. | The Duality of Jim Hopper

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

Summary: Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small. You’re certain that there is no truth behind the rumors until you take one hell of a beating and Hopper wants answers.

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings: mentions of an injury, teenagers being punks, swearing, Hopper being Hopper

Word Count: 4.5k

“How are you settling in?”

The voice tears your attention away from one of the books piled up on the table in front of you. You glance toward the sound and see Marissa, the librarian, standing beside you. A part of you wants to groan at her question because you are acutely aware that you don’t share the same history as most of your friends in Hawkins. 

You didn’t approach another child on the playground during your first day of kindergarten and establish a once in a lifetime kind of friendship -- like Mike and Will. You didn’t share cigarettes under the bleachers of your local high school while attempting to not get busted by administration -- like Joyce and Hopper. You didn’t attend new mother classes and bond over the newfound joy of motherhood -- like Karen and Marsha.

No. You haven’t lived in this small town your entire life. You moved to Hawkins after everyone your age had settled into their lives -- with jobs, and spouses, and children. Meanwhile, you came to Hawkins from Indianapolis in an attempt to have a quieter life. No children, no spouse, and no job -- that is until you had an interview with Donald Melvald.

And Melvald’s is where you met Joyce Byers, who quickly became your lifeline in Hawkins. You remember your first day at work, when she took all day just to train you. Little did you know, Joyce was just as excited as you were to have some company throughout the day. She easily took you under her wing and brought you up to date with the history of Hawkins. Eventually, she invited you into her life and home. Dinners at the Byers’ home became more frequent as you continued working together. The Byers slowly became your family in Hawkins.

“I’m doing well. Thank you for checking in.”

She gives you a polite smile. You were hoping she’d leave the conversation at that, but she asks you another question.

“Are you still working over at Melvald’s with Joyce?”

You give her a nod in response and turn your attention back to the stack of books that Will had recommended to you. It’s not that you don’t like Marissa. She’s fantastic at her job and you enjoyed the few conversations you have had with her, but you know she’s also a gossip -- or at least that’s what Joyce told you when you asked why the local librarian started asking you so many personal questions during your first visit. 

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s good. So are the boys. I’m actually going over there for dinner tonight.”

You hope you’ve given her enough information to quench her thirst for details.

“Oh. With the Chief?”

Apparently not. 

Your brow furrows at her question and you shake your head. Ever since Joyce introduced you to the local chief of police, Jim Hopper, you’ve thought maybe this town is a little too small. 

The two of you became quick friends, but you weren’t aware of his reputation in town until after you had dinner with him. It wasn’t even supposed to be just the two of you at Benny’s; Joyce was actually the one who had planned the little outing, but Will ended up coming home from school early that day with a fever, so Joyce had to cancel last minute. Hopper ended up wandering into Melvald’s later that day after Joyce had called the two of you about her predicament. 

“We can still go tonight. If you want?”

Hopper will never tell you that he wants to take you out to dinner. Instead, he leaves the decision to you; afraid of the rejection that could come if he were to just blatantly ask you out. 

You shrug before giving him a verbal answer.

“I don’t have anything else going on tonight.”

Hopper smiles as he leans against the counter, watching as you continue restocking the shelves. 

“Meet you at Benny’s? 7:00 o’clock?”

You stop restocking and glance up at him. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he was intimidating. He’s a large man and his presence practically demands your attention. Hell, his broad frame is taking up half the counter. But then his hands are anxiously fiddling with an unlit cigarette as he waits for your response. It almost makes you laugh -- the duality of Jim Hopper.

“Actually, can you pick me up? My car has been acting up.”

“I’ll be there at 7:00 and maybe I can take a look at your car?”

Jim watches you stand up. As you walk past him to get behind the counter, you gently place your hand on his bicep. It’s nothing you haven’t done before, but for some reason, every single fucking time you touch him, Hopper has to fight off the shiver that begs to journey down his spine. He doesn’t give it a second thought though. He can’t. He’s had his heart locked up tight for years. He isn’t sure if he could find the key even if he tried.

“You’re a lifesaver, Hop.”

You enjoyed dinner and Jim did end up fixing your car that night. You repaid him for the ride and a free tune-up with a case of beer, which the two of you powered through in the span of a few hours. At some point, you stole the keys to Hopper’s truck and convinced him the crash on your couch for the night. The next day, you two were the talk of the town after your neighbor told everyone she knew that the chief of police was leaving your house awfully early in the morning.

Since then, you’ve gotten quite a few questions about Hopper from the local citizens who didn’t know you too well -- assuming you were just another one of his many flings.

It takes everything in you to not roll your eyes at Marissa. Still, you offer her a polite response.

“Hopper’s working tonight.”

Marissa seems to be content in your answer and leaves you with your stack of books. You let out a sigh of relief and glance out the window. A small smile pulls at your lips as you spot Jonathan and Nancy talking to a group of boys in the parking lot, until you see one of the boys throw a punch a Jonathan.

You hastily push out your chair, turn on your heels, burst through the doors and sprint through the parking lot. You can hear Nancy begging for the boys to stop, but her protests fall on deaf ears as the boys continue to pummel Jonathan. Nancy turns toward you and relief washes over her features -- she doesn’t know you well, but Jonathan has always spoke highly of you and right now she’ll take any help offered.

“Get off of him!” 

Your voice gets one of the boys’ attention for just a moment.

“This has nothing to do with you!”

You furrow your brow at the comment. Jonathan may not be your child; however, you care for him as if he was your own and you’re not going to let this teenager lay another hand on him. Quickly, you try to get inbetween the two boys. You think you have the upperhand until the boy on top of Jonathan throws his elbow back in an attempt to get you off of him. His elbow cracks you in the nose and immediately sends you crashing to the ground. The sound of your body hitting the gravel stops the boy’s assault on Jonathan. He turns to you and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he did not mean to hurt you; he had been blinded by anger and made a stupid decision.

However, those stupid decisions seem to continue as you watch red and blue lights reflect off of Jonathan’s car. You can vaguely hear the sound of a police siren and someone yelling your name, as you watch the boy who had been pummeling Jonathan into the pavement run in the other direction. You take a moment to take in details about the boy, knowing that you’ll end up at the station giving a description of the boy to Hopper. 

As you try to get up, you’re met with the face of Officer Callahan. 

“Woah, there. Seems like you took quite a beating.”

“No, no, no. Jonathan. You need to check on Jonathan.”

Officer Callahan puts a gentle, but firm hand on your shoulder to keep you in place as you frantically search for the boy.

“It’s okay. Powell’s with him right now. We’re going to get you both to the hospital. Chief is already on his way.”

You give Callahan a nod and lay back down on the rough gravel. As the adrenaline begins to leave your system, the pounding in your head starts to take precedence. In an attempt to ease the pain, you close your eyes. You only mean for it to be a minute, but as you hear Callahan’s voice begging for you to just hold on, you feel yourself slipping deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.

When you open your eyes again, the pounding in your head has dulled and your ears are met with the rhythmic sound of your heart beat on the monitor next to you. You’re about to call for a nurse to get some information when you hear a woman yell from down the hall. 

“Sir, you can’t smoke in here!”

You hear a string of grumbled expletives before a familiar figure leans against the doorframe of your hospital room. 

“Hey, Hop.”

He’s disheveled. His uniform shirt is fully unbuttoned and falling off one shoulder, leaving his henley to be on full display. It looks as though he threw on the shirt hastily as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. Somewhere in the chaos he’s lost his hat as well, allowing you a glimpse at his unusually tousled hair -- he’s been running his hands through it in frustration since he got the call from Callahan that you were on your way to the hospital.

His eyes rake over your body, checking for injuries, before they settle on your face. The hardened anger in his gaze quickly fades to a tender concern as he studies your broken nose and two black eyes. 

Eventually, he moves from the doorframe and takes large strides toward you. He towers over your body as he stands beside your hospital bed. His jaw is clenched so hard that you begin to worry that the man might crack a tooth. The anger in the pit of his stomach begins boiling over once more as he gets a better look at your injuries -- they’re much worse upon closer inspection. Callahan was right -- you took one hell of a beating.

“Hop.”

Hopper lets out a solemn sigh as you slide your hand into his. Finally, he meets your gaze and his features soften. You swallow a string of emotions -- Hopper has never looked at you this tenderly before. It’s a lot to take in -- on one hand he’s got a warmth in his features that you’ve never witnessed before that only seemed to spark once he entered your hospital room and, on the otherhand, his body is so rigid that you fear he might snap if another goddamn thing happens today.

Keeping a tight grip on your hand, he takes a seat beside you on the small hospital bed. He reaches out and places his free hand on the side of your face. Your breath catches in your chest as his thumb gently traces over your wounds. His touch is careful, the softest whisper of contact. He’d stop if you asked him to, but you wouldn’t dare. You’d let him trace over the bridge of your nose over and over and over again, if it means that you’ll maintain Jim Hopper’s undivided attention. However, as he grazes over the area where the kid split your nose open, you flinch away from his touch. He pulls his hand back immediately and anger washes over his features once more. It was only for a second, but it was enough for you to recognize the festering rage stewing in the back of Hopper’s mind. 

“Who did this to you?”

His voice is low and he ducks his head down to your level, maintaining eye contact with you as he speaks. You open your mouth but no words come out. You’re entirely enamored in the duality of Jim Hopper once again -- fierce and rageful, while simultaneously gentle and kind. A protector in every sense of the word. He moves cautiously, placing his hands on either side of your face. He’s cradling your face like a coveted prize jewel. He takes a moment and then asks you again.

“Sweetheart, who hurt you?”

You finally let out the breath that got caught in your throat. His voice is somehow sweet as honey while simultaneously laced with venom. 

“It was just some punk kid that was giving Jonathan trouble.”

His brow furrows immediately at your response.

“What kid? I’ll make sure he never touches you again. And Jonathan.”

There’s a beat before he says the last two words. He rushes to add Jonathan into the equation in an attempt to make it seem like he’s sitting here with you because it’s his job, and not because his heart dropped into his stomach when he got the call from Callahan. He didn’t even both listening to the rest of Callahan’s message over the walkie. He knew someone hurt you and that you were being escorted by an ambulance -- that was more than enough to get him racing to his truck and speeding to the hospital. But now, in this moment, where it is just you and Hopper, he tries to cover up the fact that he’s here solely because he cares for you. 

“He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He looks at you with an incredulous expression. Where Jim is harsh, you are forgiving. He’s always appreciated the ways you’ve challenged him since you moved to Hawkins. But, right now, he wishes you were as angry as he was. But, instead, you’re sitting here with your infinite grace and it’s just pissing him off more. He retracts his hands from your face and stands up, before raking a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Oh, he didn’t mean to hurt you? Sorry, sweetheart, Callahan didn’t relay that to me that in his message -- you know the one where he let me know you were unconscious! I should go find him then, right? So I can check in on him?”

The honey is long gone from his voice, it is all venom. And the way he says ‘sweetheart’ this time is almost condescending. You’ve heard Hopper raise his voice before, his anger is no stranger to you; however, this is the first time he has risen his voice at you. It startles you for a moment. You let out a frustrated breath and furrow your brow.

“Hey, don’t take this out on me. That isn’t fair.”

“You scared the shit out of me!”

And then there is a painful silence between the two of you. Hopper is practically panting as he tries to regain his composure. Against his better judgment, he glances in your direction. Guilt immediately blooms where anger had previously resided. Deciding he’s done enough damage, he turns and begins to walk toward the door in an attempt to find Jonathan’s room. 

“Hey, Hop. Wait.”

Hopper stops as he hears your voice. It sounds smaller than normal -- almost as if you were scared that he’d cast your plea aside and leave you in this room alone. Don’t you know by now he would do anything you asked of him? He lets out a sigh before turning back to you. 

“Please don’t go.”

Hopper nods at your request before slowly making his way back over to you. This time, instead of sitting beside you on the small hospital bed, he pulls a chair up to your bedside and slumps into it. He no longer looks angry or concerned or soft. No, he just looks exhausted and the sight causes a sharp pain in your heart. The two of you sit in silence for a few moment before Hopper notices your hands wringing anxiously. He decides then to break the silence.

“How did you even get caught up in this mess?”

You let out a laugh before answering, catching Hopper off guard.

“I was actually at the library.”

Hopper raises an eyebrow at your confession and looks at you in disbelief. 

“You’re joking.”

The two of you laugh together at your absolute dumb luck. You’re glad that the tension in the room has dissipated. Now, the silence is comfortable.

“You know Marissa?”

Hopper raises a brow at you once more.

“The librarian?”

“Yes, the librarian. I think she likes you.”

Hopper lets out a half-hearted laugh at your comment. A part of him wishes you were around when he was a younger man -- when he was less bitter. Before the war totured the boyish charmisa out of him. Yet another is glad that you weren’t there to witness his past. That unlike everyone else, you don’t assume that he’s already slept with the local librarian -- even if it’s true.

“Trust me. I know.”

You stare at him with a look of naive confusion. Eventually, you put the pieces together and your eyes light up. You roll your eyes and laugh before covering you face with your hands.

“This explains so much.”

Now it’s Hopper’s turn to be confused.

“What are you talking about?”

“She asks about you all the time.”

If Hopper were a few years younger, that comment would fuel his ego; however, those days are behind him.

“And that explains why she doesn’t like me.”

Hopper is taken aback by that comment. He can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t like you.

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“Because she believes what everyone else does.”

Hopper looks at you as if you’re speaking a different language. You let out a laugh at his oblivious nature which only seems to confuse him more. It makes sense that the comments were directed toward you and not the intimidating chief of police; however, you can’t believe he hasn’t overheard anyone talking about it at this point.

“People talked after you crashed on my couch that night.”

“Oh.”

You don’t have to get into details about what they said. Hopper knows. He knows his reputation proceeds him. And he should have known that spending more time with you would raise a few eyebrows in town. Sometimes he hates this stupid small town and the fact that someone is always watching.

“Did you think about it?”

Hopper looks at you for a moment before he furrows his brow. God, this oblivious man is going to kill you. Deciding that it’s too late to back out now, you decide to double down. 

“Did you think about me that night like you thought about Marissa?”

“How hard did that kid hit you?”

He attempts to lighten the mood and brush off the question, but you won’t have it. He’s avoiding your eye contact, deciding instead to fiddle with the pack of cigarettes that he pulled out from his pocket.

“Jim.”

It knocks the breath out of his lungs. You’ve only called him that one other time -- the same night you’re asking about. Hopper was already one too many beers in when you fell beside him, onto the couch. He let out a loud laugh while throwing an arm behind you, on the back of the couch. You laugh along with him and lean your head back into his arm. You turn your head to face him and you’re suddenly aware of how close you are to Hopper. He’s looking at you like you’re a goddamn dream. And you’re not sure what time it is but Hopper looks softer in the moonlight. And you know you’re not thinking straight; however, leaning into the sudden intimacy between you and Hopper doesn’t seem like a terrible idea.

And then you say his name. And it sounds like a goddamn prayer. His mind is fuzzy and he swears you’ve never looked as stunning as you do right now -- he takes a moment to capture this memory and file it away into the back of his subconscious.

He watches as you lean into him. You move slowly, allowing him room to back away if he wanted; however, he doesn’t pull back. Instead, he takes your lead and leans in as well. Before any drunken, heat of the moment decisions can be made, your phone rings, cutting through the thick silence. Hopper emits a low growl, but allows you to pull away and leave the room. You answer the phone and he can hear your voice from the other room. He sets his beer down on your coffee table, deciding that he’s definitely had enough to drink. By the time you return to your living room, Hopper is snoring and the moment has passed.

He may not be drunk now; however, he’s just as enamored as he was that night as you say his name. 

“No.”

His answer hits you harder the elbow you took to the face. Your eyes fall to your hands and you nod. Hopper is immediately filled with regret. God, he’s an idiot. That’s not what he meant. Of course he’s thought about you. It’s just different and he’s not quite sure how to explain it to you, but he’s going to try because he cannot stand the sadness that has washed over your features.

“Sweetheart, you’re not Marissa. When I was with her, I wasn’t thinking about her; I was just thinking about me. Of course I thought about it that night -- you and I.  It’s just you could never be just a fling to me.”

Hopper avoids eye contact with you as he speaks, but it doesn’t matter. His honest words make your heart flutter and repair the heartbreak that his previous answer caused. A small smile spread across your face at the sudden realization that Hopper likes you. 

“I thought about it too, that night.”

Hopper’s head rises and he meets your gaze. 

“You know -- you and I.”

You repeat Hopper’s words back to him with a small smile on your face. Hopper can’t help the laugh that escapes him. The two of you have entered uncharted waters; however, Hopper has never felt more comfortable than he does right nwo, wading into the deep end with you. He moves his chair closer to your bedside and takes your hand in his once again. When he meets your eyes, your breath is once again trapped in your lungs. It’s like you’ve transported right back to that night and you’re Jim Hopper’s answered prayer. 

“You know, the kid hit you pretty fucking hard. Are you sure you’re thinking straight?”

You roll your eyes; however, Hopper still manages to get a good laugh out of you. Even when he’s flirting, he’s still a goddamn smartass.

“Just kiss me, Jim.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. In a moment, he’s out of his seat -- towering over you once again. If you were any other person in Hawkins, you would probably perceive Jim’s presence so close to you as formidable, but, right now, you just feel safe. And you can’t help but lost in the duality of Jim Hopper. 

He moves his hands and gently cradles your face. Your eyes close as you lean into his touch. You allow yourself to just enjoy the feeling of Jim’s skin on your own, until he traces his thumb over your bottom lip. As you open your eyes, you’re met with Jim only a breath away from you. You lean into him and then his lips meet yours and it just feels right - like everything has finally fallen into place; Hawkins, Melvald’s, the Byer’s family, Jim.

Jim’s movements are gentle and slow, until you grab a fistful of his open sheriff’s uniform and pull him closer. The guttural growl that reverberates in Jim’s chest as he moves his hands down your body, sends a shiver down your spine. The sweet, lazy kiss has now turned into something more passionate and desperate. Seemingly lost in the moment, Jim nudges his nose against yours which makes you involuntarily let out a pained hiss. Jim pulls away instantly and his eyes fill with panic, until he realizes what he’s done. A soft chuckle escapes him as he leans his forehead against yours. 

“Sorry. Got a little carried away.”

His voice is low and sultry. You’ve never heard anything so heavenly before. And then you're laughing with him. Today has been overwhelming, to say the least, and it’s comical to you. Jim leans back again and meets your eyes. There’s a new fierceness in his gaze that isn’t quite so rageful. He moves his hand to gently tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. 

He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted by footsteps stopping just outside your hospital room and a surprised gasp. Jim’s eyes close and he shakes his head. He should have known -- there is no such thing as privacy in this small town. He opens his eyes and you’re smiling at him. You’re fucking smiling at him and it takes everything in him to not kiss you again. 

“It’s Joyce isn’t it?”

You peek over his shoulder and spot Joyce standing in the doorway with both of her hands over her mouth. The sight makes your smile grow and you nod your head to answer Jim’s question. He lets out an annoyed sigh and finally moves away from you. Jim doesn’t go too far though, he simply sits on the edge of your hospital bed and keeps a protective hand on your thigh.

“Joyce.”

Jim’s voice is stern. The dramatic change in tone almost gives you whiplash. Joyce seems to be at a loss for words as she just moves her gaze between you both. Jim finally throws both of his hands up in front of him, exasperatedly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Jim rolls his eyes at her apology, but there’s a small smile plastered on his face. He might be impatient and uncordial with almost everyone in this small town; however, Jim Hopper has always had a soft spot for Joyce Byers. And right now, Jim feels like he’s back in high school. Joyce has never been nonchalant, so every time Jim included her in his extracurricular activities, it always seemed to bite him in the ass; however, no amount of detentions ever stopped him from inviting her into his life. 

“It’s fine, Joyce. How’s Jonathan?”

Your nerves dissipate once Joyce lets you both know that Jonathan is perfectly fine -- a little bruised and battered, but ultimately okay. She attempts to make some awkward small talk with you both, before excusing herself from the conversation so that she can go check on Jonathan. 

With that, Jim’s attention is once again focused solely on you. He moves to kiss you again, but stops once his forehead meets yours.

“I swear to God, if a nurse barges in next.” 

“Shut up and kiss me, Hopper.”

A content smile spreads across his face at your words. He could get used to hearing those words -- he could get used to all of this. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

[gothgirlmahi]

Stocking Stuffer

Pairing: Violent Night (David Harbour) Santa Claus x Reader

Summary: Santa calls you into his office for a private meeting.

Warnings: breeding kink, size kink, unprotected sex, role play, use of “good girl”

Word Count: 1.7K

This was not good. This was not good at all. Never in your life had you been so behind on toy making! This year was insane!

Things weren’t like this a century ago. You could do dolls and toy cars and all sorts of board games with ease. But the kids today? It was Xbox and PlayStation and games you had never even heard of. iPhones and Fortnite and whatever else. It was never ending! It was like Santa wanted to work you all to death!

There was no possible way to keep up with it and he should have known that. You’d been meticulously checking the date and the time crunch was killing you. Every second closer to Christmas was another second you were running behind. You would finish in time, there was no doubt about that. Given that you were the leader for your team, you had a lot of pressure on you. Santa expected his elves to be hard working and pumping out those presents constantly. Normally you all could deliver, but this was obviously no normal year!

He had to understand that, right?

Apparently not. At least that’s what you suspected when you were called from your work station. One of the head elves came to collect you while you were working diligently at your desk. You couldn’t understand what could be so important to tell you during work hours. Then he dropped the bomb that Santa wanted to see you personally.

Look. You had seen Santa plenty of times when he was giving speeches and instructions, but never alone. What if he was mad at you? Oh god, what if he fired you? Could you all even get fired? Maybe you’d been watching too many human TV shows. Whatever was going on, it had your palms sweaty and your heart racing.

He led you to Santa’s office and left. Leaving you to stare down those big red and white doors you had never been inside without others to accompany you. You supposed it was now or never so you knocked.

“Who is it?” he responded after a moment’s silence. You said your name and he made a noise in affirmation before the door was pulled open.

You drew in a breath in awe as you looked up at him.

Of course you’d seen Santa plenty of times but hardly ever got this close to him. It was funny. None of the interpretations ever seemed to do him any justice. He wasn’t just some chubby old man with a white beard. He was, to your own admission, a very attractive man. With a grey beard and pretty hair that you sometimes dreamed of raking your fingers through. And he was so big. Tall, you mean. You of course didn’t know how big he was in any other areas.

Of course not.

“Just who I wanted to see. Come in.” He moved aside to let you in the door. You walked in and he closed the door behind you.

You’d been in his office before but never really had the time to look around. It was filled with little knickknacks and decorations, lots of red and white decor, and candy canes hanging from nearly every surface possible.

He gestured for you to sit in one of the chairs in front of his desk and you did, while he went and sat at his own chair behind the desk. The stern expression on his face did nothing to settle your unease.

“I hear your unit is behind this year. Do you care to explain?”

You were fully ready to grovel and beg. So you did.

“It’s been hard this year. You know, with gathering supplies and making the toys. I’ve never been late before! I’m certain we’ll have everything ready by Christmas Eve.”

He nodded, arms folded and a thoughtful look on his face.

“I hope you’re right. Everything must be ready on time. Wouldn’t it be tragic if we couldn’t deliver on our promises to the children? Imagine their sad faces.”

The thought of it made you want to cry. You’d never want to make a child sad! Your whole life revolved around creating things to make them happy!

“I’m sorry, Santa! We will have everything finished in time. We’ll do as much overtime as possible and get it done.”

He nodded before pressing his fingers to his temples, massaging them gently.

“This stress of this year has taken such a great toll on me. I’ve found myself in dire need of relief.”

Santa looked terribly stressed. You pushed forward in your chair, leaning over the desk.

“You shouldn’t feel so bad. None of this is your own fault. We’re all dealing with so many issues this year. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Well, there might be one thing. I was looking down in your section and you’re very productive. It’s just, that area isn’t great with stocking stuffers. We’ve had this problem with your section year after year and I think you need a demonstration.”

“A demonstration? On how to…make stocking stuffers?”

Santa shrugged folding his hands as he sat back in his chair.

“I was thinking more so a demonstration on getting stuffed.”

You blinked in confusion.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Santa gave you a smile and a nod.

“Stand up and I’m sure I can show you.”

You stood up and carefully eyed the man in front of you as he rounded the desk, coming to stand right behind you. When you went to turn around, he held his hands firmly on your shoulders to keep you from moving. He pressed a strong hand to the middle of your back, slowly pushing you down until your upper half was flat on his desk.

When you felt him press his hips against yours, your eyes widened in surprise.

“I think I get it now,” you said, waiting in anxious anticipation for what he was going to do to you.

“You always were a smart one. Now just relax.”

He pushed your skirt up so it bunched around your waist then you heard him fiddling with the zipper of his pants. He easily ripped your panties off of you and threw them somewhere in his office.

You let out a gasp as the head of his cock pressed through your wet folds. He pushed into you slowly until his hips met your ass. Both of you groaned once he bottomed out. Santa took a firm grip in the meat of your thighs and slowly pulled out just to go back in with a vicious thrust that ripped a scream from you. He took up an absolute maniacal rhythm that had you moaning with each meeting of your skin.

“I needed this,” he murmured. His voice sounded strained.

You pressed your cheek into the desk, face staring at the wall but body fully immersed in what he was doing to you. One particular thrust had your back arching towards him and your nails digging into the wood below you.

“Oh, is that it? Is that your spot?”

Santa gently set one of your legs up on the desk and pounded you, making a wet slapping noise that echoed through the room. The change in position also enabled him to hit that spot again and again and again until your eyes were rolling my back.

“Santa, please! Fuck me! Oh my god, fuck me!”

He groaned, shuddering a bit when your cunt squeezed around him.

“Call me Nick.”

His cock felt amazing inside you. Thick and hitting every good spot imaginable. We’re you drooling? Oh, that would be so embarrassing. But you could barely form a thought past the thick meat slamming into your little pussy.

“This tiny cunt feels so fucking good strangling my cock. Fuck, with a cunt like this, you’ve gotta be on the naughty list.”

“No, no,” you begged, “I’ve been so good.”

“Shh. I know you’ve been good. You’re always so good for me. This cunt is mine. Only mine. You’re always so fucking good for me.”

“I’ll be so good,” you but your lip as you felt yourself getting close to tumbling off the edge, “always good for you.”

“Mmhmm. Good girls cum when asked. Are you gonna cum for me, gorgeous?”

“I—“ you couldn’t get your reply out before he was reaching under both of you to roughly rub at your clit. Your legs shook as you creamed around him. You were fairly certain you felt a little trickle of liquid come out of you while he kept pounding you, prolonging your orgasm and making you go absolutely stupid on his dick.

“I’m gonna give you your present a little early, honey. Shit, I can’t last much longer.”

“Please,” was the only thing you could manage to murmur.

“Santa’s gonna give you something special only you can have. But it’s gonna take nine months to get.”

You squeezed around him even tighter after hearing that, pulling a strangled groan from him as he filled you with his warm cream. The feeling of being filled by him had you coming again, writhing around and shaking while he kept your hips in place. He came so much it was dripping down your thighs and onto the floor.

When he finally pulled out, he stopped to press a kiss to your back. You were too exhausted to move.

“You were right,” he said, “I like the role play. It’s fun.”

“I told you. It’s nice to switch things up now and then,” you said, still with your cheek against the desk. He laughed and trailed his finger down your dripping sex, causing you to jolt a bit.

“As long as I get to fill you with baby batter, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Fuck, Nick! I told you to stop calling it baby batter! It’s weird!”

“It is baby batter. Isn’t that’s the whole point?”

“Yeah, but I mean…” you trailed off, pushing yourself off the desk with some help from your husband. You felt your combined fluids steadily leaking out of you and crossed your legs uncomfortably.

“We are kind of behind on production, though,” he murmured, leaning down to get closer to eye level with you. You stood on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips.

“Back to work for both of us then,” you said, fixing your skirt. He nodded with a smile.

“Back to work, Mrs. Claus.”

[parkert01]

Thirst Tweets - Jim Hopper

You and Jim have been dating for a couple of years now. You met when you became his sectary at the station, you relationship flourished from there, you went from work colleagues, to friends and then eventually to being together, at the start of the relationship people thought it wouldn't work out because there was a age gap, you happily proved them wrong. You and Jim were meant to be together.

You were currently scrolling twitter on your phone while Jim was watching whatever trash TV was on. Periodically you would chuckle to yourself while reading tweets about your boyfriend, he would glance over at you every time you laughed, confused but said nothing until he got annoyed and said "What are you laughing at?". You got up and sat next to him and said "just some tweets about you. Do you want me to read some to you?". He laughed and nodded. 

"Jim Hopper is such a dilf. Send tweet"

"Jim Hopper has always been so hot"

"Jim Hopper, ur so hot"

"Jim Hopper = hot"

"Jim Hopper makes dad bods look hot"

"Hopper needs to rail me"

You looked over at Jim and laughed at his confused expression. He chuckles nervously and turns so his arms are wrapped around your waist. He nudges his face into your the crook of your neck. You stay like that for a couple of minutes before he pulls his head away and says "What is a dilf?"

You let out a laugh and say breathlessly "A dad I'd like to....". You look at blushed face "Oh. That is a compliment?" You nod in confirmation. He blushes against and laughs. You kiss him, holding your lips against his, revelling in the feeling of him being your boyfriend. 

He kisses you back passionately and whispers against your lips "I'm your dilf though. Only yours. I love you". He then picks you up as you giggle and head towards your shared bedroom  

[sivilvendetta]

New fic just dropped

Do you like cars? Racing? Gran Turismo the movie?

How about Jack Salter? Or David Harbour? Why not all of it?

Then check out my fic!

Mechanic!Reader clashes with her fellow team Captain in this almost spicy X Reader fic. Mind the tags as per usual :)

Haha, I broke this character's Ao3 cherry

No. He is my little meat puppet and I will do what I wish with him.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x Reader | angsty smut | includes infidelity, Reader is married to a different public servant of Hawkins (can you guess who, @umnitsa ? 😉) Hopper is married as well, death of Hopper’s daughter mentioned, Hopper is a real ass here, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal fingering, ANGST ANGST ANGST…

@mrshopper84 @travelingtwentysomething @beefrobeefcal @braincell-pingpong @skye-44 @midwest-princess @riotrhythm

──────────────────────

“This isn’t right.”

At first, Hopper didn’t hear you speak. He was too distracted by the taste of your soft skin on his tongue, his mouth pressed to your neck in an open kiss. When your words did register in his mind, he disregarded them. Who gave a fuck whether what the two of you were doing was right or wrong? Hadn’t you both earned some happiness? You, with a husband too absorbed in his work to pay you any attention, and Hopper, whose wife had grown so cold and distant after the death of their daughter that she barely let him touch her anymore?

“This isn’t right, Hopper,” you repeated, insistent this time. His grip on your hips tightened, almost hurting. You were sitting on his lap in his office, after hours at the station. In the darkness, just the two of you, just how you liked it. How you needed it to be, to avoid a scandal that would turn the small town of Hawkins upside down...

You became frustrated at Hopper’s disregard for your words, pulling back from him. His jaw tightened, his lips a thin, hard line. “And what makes you think I fuckin’ care if it’s right or wrong?” he asked, his voice husky and impatient. “I want you.” Hopper bounced his knee under you, making you gasp as your cunt settled against the thick outline of his cock. Hopper exhaled as you shifted on top of the erection painfully straining against his uniform. “I want you,” he reiterated, speaking through grit teeth. “I want you and that asshole you’re married to doesn’t.” Hopper’s words stung already, but they were about to get worse.

“That new secretary he just hired? Remember her?” You braced yourself for what you already knew was coming. “He’s fucking her, did y’know that?” Hopper didn’t waste time softening the blow of his words with pretty euphemisms. Why should he? You’d come this far, let him touch you already. You were straddling Hopper’s lap for fucks sake. You wanted this as much as he did, and he’d be damned if he let you pretend to have grown a conscience between the time you straddled his lap and now…

Hopper knew you were a smart woman. You must have known your husband was having an affair, that he’d been unfaithful for as long as the two of you had been married. “Mrs. Kline,” Hopper uttered your name through a cruel smirk. He reached for the strand of hair spilling down your shoulder, gently tucking it behind your ear. You shivered as Hopper’s thumb grazed your earlobe, his skin warm. “Don’t let this time we have go to waste,” Hopper told you. “We both know things aren’t going to change anytime soon, for either one of us.”

You shifted a little on top of his thighs, Hopper’s cock pulsing against your cunt in response. You’d already soaked through your panties, a wet patch leaking through onto Hopper’s pants. He’d have to wash those himself, later. Couldn’t risk his wife finding them in the laundry and asking questions. But a bit of deception was a small price to pay if it meant finally getting inside you.

“Larry is-,” you began, but Hopper bucked you on his knee again, silencing you.

“Mm-mm,” he chastised, shaking his head. “Don’t say the bastard’s name. Not when you’re with me.”

Hopper swallowed any words you may have had left in a kiss. His tongue licked back the apprehension sitting on the edge of yours, the things you knew you should say, but didn’t want to. Mainly, the word “no.” You didn’t want to tell Hopper no.

His large hands held you down against his lap, thumbs finding purchase in the space where your hips and thighs met. Being the mayor’s wife, you’d interacted with the Chief of Police several times over the years. But never like this. The time you’d spent together had been social, limited to local events. Always public, always within the gaze of the people of Hawkins. The eyes of the public on you had forced both you and Hopper to keep your desire for one another a secret. But now, years later, you’d both grown weary of pretending, of keeping things professional. His hand slipped between your legs, gliding under the waist of your panties. You gasped as Hopper inserted two of his thick, calloused fingers inside you without warning. A cocky little grin pulled at his lips. “Just warming you up, sweetheart,” he drawled confidently, adding “Christ you’re fuckin’ tight…Might send you back to Lare a little broken, y’know…?”

You moaned into Hopper’s chest as he fingered you, humping against his palm. No matter how fucking good his fingers felt inside you, he was still Jim Hopper. The same man who’d developed a reputation for drinking and drug use while on the job. The same man whose wife was presumably sleeping soundly right now, at the home she shared with Hopper, having bought the lie he’d sold her about needing to stay late at the station for ‘work.’ He was working, but not the way he’d implied. Hopper’s fingers working inside you were an altogether different kind of work, the way he manipulated your cunt yet another form of manipulation he was very skilled at, in addition to lying to his wife.

“You’re so close,” Hopper gloated at your ear in a low, smug voice. The fact that he was getting you off with nothing but his fingers was stroking Hopper’s ego, just like his fingers were stroking your insides. He held a misplaced sense of pride in being able to do for you what your husband couldn’t, or wouldn’t, do. It was something Hopper could accomplish, something he could succeed at, in contrast with his crumbling marriage. Maybe instead of thrusting his fingers up another woman’s cunt, he should have been at home with his wife, working on repairing his marriage. But Hopper wasn’t interested in what he should be doing. All he wanted to do, was you.

The sound of Hopper’s chair creaked loudly in the small office at the impact of you grinding on his lap. He smacked your ass with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, then carefully removed the one that was. You whimpered at being suddenly empty, pouting up at Hopper in frustration. He didn’t deny you for long, quickly working his belt and pants undone, his cock springing free and smacking thick and wet against your cunt with an audible slap. Hopper lifted you by your hips, guiding you onto his plump, leaking tip and letting you sink onto him at your own pace.

Hungry, greedy, your cunt swallowed Hopper with minimal difficulty. You managed to take him whole, your clit pressed against the coarse dark hair above Hopper’s cock. He growled behind grit teeth, as the sensation of being consumed by you overtook him. It had been years since Hopper had been with a woman besides his wife. The grip of fresh pussy moving up and down his shaft caused Hopper’s brain to temporarily glaze over. He was lurched back into awareness by the harsh ring of the telephone sitting on his desk.

“Ignore it,” Hopper panted, speaking to himself as much as you. A moment later, the phone ceased ringing. When the shrill sound began again less than a minute later, Hopper pulled his lips from your throat and cursed. He knew there was only one person who would be trying to reach him here at this time of night. Hopper reached for the phone, gently lifting it from the receiver. He brought his index finger against his lips, instructing you to remain quiet. Forcing his voice as steady as possible, considering you were grinding up and down on his cock, Hopper spoke: “Diane?” You nuzzled your face into Hopper’s neck, muffling your own sounds into his shirt. A woman’s voice on the other end of the line spoke, but you couldn’t make out the words. You didn’t want to. All you wanted was to keep riding Hopper, moving closer and closer to your peak.

“I can’t-I uh-,” Hopper stammered, swallowing. You could feel the heat radiating from his chest, the sweat blooming beneath the hair peeking out from his shirt collar. “I’m gonna be a little longer, sweetheart,” Hopper managed, clearing his throat. He closed his eyes in an attempt to remove the image of your breasts bouncing in front of him with every descent you made on his cock. His wife’s voice chattered away on the other end of the line. “Thirty minutes,” Hopper said, and inwardly, you grimaced. You wanted all night with him, but under the circumstances, both your options and Hopper’s were limited.

“Yeah,” Hopper grunted, followed by a rushed “love you too,” before he quickly replaced the phone on top of the receiver. You paused, meeting his eyes in the dim light of his office. “Is that true?” you asked tentatively, your voice breathless. Hopper’s hands were all over you again, as if the phone call had never happened. His expression conveyed annoyance as he sorted out what you were asking him, his response a confused “what?”

“She said I love you,” you explained. “Your wife. And you said it back.” Hopper’s eyebrows lifted incredulously. “Yeah,” he said. “What’s your point?”

“Did you mean it?” you asked, despising how pitiful and small you sounded in this moment. Hopper exhaled, the cruel smirk returning to his lips. “How is that any of your fucking business?” he asked through a humorless chuckle. His smile evaporated as a darker look replaced it. “Now you listen to me, because here’s how this is gonna work-.” His hands slid down your thighs, squeezing a little too hard. “-You’re gonna keep these legs spread till I come in between them and then we’re gonna part ways like this never fuckin’ happened, understand?” You nodded, forcing the tears behind your eyes not to fall. You wouldn’t give Hopper the satisfaction of knowing he’d hurt you anymore than he already had.

Hopper nodded, satisfied with your compliance. “Good girl,” he said, without any sentiment behind his words. Hopper’s arms crushed you against him as he bucked up into you. His shoulders tensed, the muscles in his stomach tightening. Hopper’s grunts of exertion grew sharper, till his body stilled tight against yours, his cum spilling inside you. With his forehead pressed to your shoulder, Hopper panted hot and labored against your chest.

The absence of sound in the office, apart from Hopper’s breath, was far from quiet. A sick tension hung in the air, his cold words repeating back in your mind on a loop. After a moment, Hopper patted your ass and instructed you to “get up.” He held onto the base of his cock as you slid off it, a thick trail of semen gushing out and landing on his thigh. Hopper cursed, almost as if implying the mess was your fault. He turned his back to you, lighting a cigarette. Feeling unsatisfied and worse, ashamed, your voice was trembling when you quietly asked, “should I…go?”

Hopper’s shoulders moved in small chuckle, and he turned to face you. His cock was still hanging out, as if he was in no hurry to put it away. You, by contrast, had already begun to dress. Hopper sucked a long drag out of his cigarette, exhaling as he informed you flatly, “yeah, we’re done here.” He reached for his coat and made his way to the door. Even though you were fully dressed by now, you felt more exposed than ever. He waved his hand ahead of him, ushering you out the front door of the station. “See yourself out,” Hopper directed. The hurt inside you was beginning to boil over into rage. You’d never felt more used in your life, even after being humiliated by your husband’s affairs for years. “Fuck you, Jim,” you spat at him, your saliva landing on his cheek. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted in a look of amusement. “Well that already happened,” he taunted.

The cold night air was oddly welcoming as you burst through the station door and out into the parking lot. You found your vehicle and quickly got inside, your hands squeezing the steering wheel till your fingers cracked. You left the station and made your way home to your husband, while another man’s cum slowly leaked out of you onto the driver’s seat the whole way home.

[storiesforallfandoms]

small ~ jim hopper;stranger things

word count: 1958

request?: yes!

“Oh my fucking god, I’m not the person who asked for Hopper but holy fucking shit balls. Maybe like you and Hopper go out one night just to get drunk and you do the like hand comparison thing and he just absolutely wants you then and there. But like his pov with a side of inner turmoil because he’s nervous about what would happen afterwards? I don’t really know, so basically anything, there’s not enough Hop on here.”

description: when they go out for a couple of drinks after work, neither of them expected it to end the way it did

pairing: jim hopper x female!reader

warnings: swearing, drinking, hinted smut but nothing detailed, slight age gap (hopper is mid 40s, reader is late 20s) and slight power imbalance (hopper is police chief, reader is newly appointed officer)

masterlist (one, two)

My usual drink was waiting for me in my usual spot as I entered the bar. I knew that should’ve concerned me, but it was yet another long day and I needed something to take the edge off. So I sat up on the stool that became my “regular spot” and took a sip from the beer that had become my “regular drink”.

I usually drank alone on nights like this, but this particular night a familiar voice asked, “Mind if I join you, chief?”

I looked over my shoulder to see our new rookie, (Y/F/N). She was still in her uniform, likely also just off from her shift. I hadn’t had a lot of interaction with her since her promotion, but I remembered her being an incredible trainee in her early days.

Not to mention she’s cute.

“Of course,” I said, gesturing to the empty stool next to me. “It’s a free country.”

She sat up next to me and ordered a pint of beer for herself. I glanced over at her as I raised my drink to my lips. There are certain ways to tell when a cop is new to the force and that is by how young they appear. (Y/N) still had that beautiful, youthful look to her. She had yet to face anything to cause the lines to form on her face or for streaks of grey to appear in her hair.

“Hard day, chief?” she asked.

“You can call me Jim, (Y/N). We’re not on the clock,” I told her. Not that many people ever actually called me by my first name, on or off the clock. I just wanted to hear how it sounded coming form her mouth. “And every day is a hard day on the force.”

She didn’t respond. I didn’t blame her. How are you supposed to respond to the off duty police chief having yet another existential crisis?

“It’s not that bad,” I admitted. “When you’ve been a cop as long as I have, you just see things you can never unsee. But you’re also protecting people and saving lives. That’s worth something.”

“I know. My dad was an officer, actually. He’s told me all the stories.”

“Really? Would I know him?”

she shook her head as she took another sip of her pint. “I’m not from Hawkins. I moved here after I finished police school. It was...well, it was the only place looking for new recruits.”

She could’ve been a big, hot shot cop in a big city, but instead had to settle for our small town. That’s how dreams die.

“But I like it here,” she added. “I do. Hawkins is a nice little town and the people here are...”

“Nice?” I offered.

She chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

When I noticed her drink was almost empty, I ordered her another one on my tab.

We were there for a few hours, drinking the night away. (Y/N) could handle her alcohol a lot better than I thought she could. She was easily keeping up with me and only started to show any signs of inebriation when I started to feel my own beer hit me.

“One more for me, bartender,” she said, raising a hand to get the bartender’s attention. Her words were slightly slurred as she spoke.

“I think you’ve had enough,” I said, reaching out to lower her hand. “You need some water before you go anywhere.”

She looked at my hand on hers. I could feel her skin warm against mine. I should’ve let go. I didn’t need to be holding her hand for this long. But her hand was so warm and so soft. I didn’t want to let go of her.

A small smile spread across her face as she slipped her hand from mine just long enough to hold up her open palm. She took the hand that was just holding her own and placed it, open, against hers. A drunken giggled escaped from her lips as she looked at the juxtaposition between the size. 

“Your hand is so much bigger than mine,” she said. “You could fit, like, both of my hands in one of yours.”

Her hand was much smaller than mine. Her fingertips just barely reached the second joints of my fingers. Actually, she was a lot smaller than me in general; her entire stature was much smaller than I was. I could likely hold both her hands effortlessly in one of mine.

Which made me picture both of her wrists locked in one of my hands. My larger body towering over her smaller one. My name coming from her lips in between a string of moans and whimpers. That warm, soft skin pressed against my - 

I quickly pulled my hand away from hers and turned to the bartender to order a water for (Y/N).

I couldn’t have those thoughts about her. There was so much wrong with that scenario, namely the fact that I was her superior and over a decade older than her. It was wrong, those thoughts were wrong. But now that I had gotten them in my head they wouldn’t go away. I couldn’t even look at her without those images flashing before my eyes.

“Did you drive here?” I asked her. She nodded as she started gulping down her water. “Listen, I don’t feel comfortable with you driving home in this state, even if you sober up a little, and I don’t want to leave you drunk at a bar on your own. I’m gonna drive you home, and you can come back to get your car in the morning.”

“But you’ve been drinking, too,” she pointed out.

“I’m much more sober than you are, honey,” I assured her. She didn’t make a comment on the pet name, and I hoped she’d be too drunk to even remember it later on.

I paid for our drinks despite her protests and guided her out to my car. She didn’t seem too drunk while walking, which made me wonder if I should’ve just let her drive home on her own. I didn’t lie when I said I didn’t want her to drive home after drinking, but I also wanted these last few moments together before I had to force things back to normal the next day.

“I appreciate this, Jim,” she said after giving me her address.

“What kind of police chief would I be if I let our rookie drive home drunk?” I asked, a light tone in my voice.

“The kind who drives after he’s already been drinking?” she offered.

I chuckled. “Okay, touché.”

She rested her head against the window. Her face lit up as we drove under the street lights. As we would approach another light, I couldn’t help but glance over to get a glimpse at her beautiful face.

God, I’m helpless here. How do I stop myself from doing something I’ll regret?

“Are you from close to Hawkins?” I asked, trying to make small talk. “Originally, I mean.”

“About a five hour drive away,” she responded.

“So not close at all really. Do you  get to see your family a lot at least?”

She nodded. “My parents drive in every other weekend. We talk on the phone all the time, too. They miss me and they wish I had gotten a job at our local department so I was closer to home, but they’re proud of me.”

“As they should be. Becoming a cop isn’t easy, as your dad probably knows.”

“School was tough, and I’m kind of worried about the first day I see something traumatizing, but it’s like you said: we do good, too. I just hope the good outweighs the bad.”

“It does. Eventually, it goes.”

“Do you have any kids, Jim?”

I felt myself tense at the question. My blood ran cold and my grip on the steering wheel tightened until my knuckles were white.

“I used to,” I said, my voice icier than I meant it to be.

She looked at me with wide eyes. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I knew that. I should’ve have said...I should’ve remembered...shit, Jim, I’m so sorry.”

I shook my head, focusing my attention on the road. “No, don’t be sorry. It was years ago and...and you’re drunk. You weren’t thinking straight.”

“It’s still not easy to lose a kid, though.”

We were silent the rest of the way to her place. I felt a sense of dread as I pulled into her driveway. I really did not want this time to end, but I had no other reason to keep things going. Once she got out of my car and went inside, she’d fall asleep and wake up sober. When I saw her at the station the next day, she’d be referring to me as Chief Hopper again, and I’d just be stuck with the memory of tonight being a far away fantasy I could never have again.

“Are you still with your wife, Jim?” she asked.

The question took me by surprise. “Uh...no. We...we divorced a long time ago.”

She was slowly unbuckling her seatbelt, her gaze slowly drifting to me as if she were contemplating what I had said. Suddenly, she was out of her own seat and on my lap. Her lips were roughly pressed against mine, her hands around the back of my head, holding me to her. Instinctively, arms went around her waist and I began to kiss her back. It was the one thing I had wanted to do all night and now that it was finally happening, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not. If this was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

Her hips moved down so her crotch brushed against mine. I groaned in pleasure at the contact and she used this to her advantage by slipping her tongue into my mouth. The taste of alcohol on her tongue was enough to snap me out of my trance and to realize what was happening. I pulled away from her. She tried to move with me, but I put a hand against her shoulder to move her away from me.

“Shit,” she said, her face flushed with embarrassment. “Shit, I’m sorry. That was way out of line, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You’re drunk. It’s fine,” I assured her.

She shook her head. “No, no I’m not drunk. I haven’t been at all. I was a bit tipsy back at the bar, but I haven’t gotten further than a light buzz.”

I was shocked at her revelation. “But...you were okay with me driving you home. I thought you were too drunk to drive.”

“I wanted to be alone with you.”

I almost laughed I was so shocked. This entire time I was having these thoughts and telling myself I wouldn’t be able to act on them, and it turns out she was having the exact same thoughts, too.

“Did I make a total fool of myself?” she asked. “I can just go, we can just forget this ever happened.”

In response, I put a hand on the back of her head and pulled her towards me to kiss her again. I could feel her body relaxing against mine.

I couldn’t let the kiss be long lived, though, as I reluctantly pulled away again. “Go inside and get yourself sober. If you still feel like this in the morning when all the alcohol is out of your system, we can try it again.”

She smiled brightly at me. “Don’t be surprised if I kiss you the minute I see you tomorrow, then.”

I smiled back at her. “I’ll be waiting.”

[truexnfootball]

Violent Night Review

Omg Daddy...

David plays Santa so well, but a few things I think could have been better (mostly directed to the directors)

The dialogue from Santa...more dirty and flirtatious. We need to hear David say more things like "good girl" "that's it" "Santa's gonna come down your chimney" things like that.

More blood...I'm a sucker for blood, and blood kinks. I really think a little more blood (from Santa's little victims), would add more chaos.

And finally...a sex scene.. I KNOW I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT

We all know Santa Harbour can get it...any version of David (and himself) can get it. So maybe a light one, with hands and tongues and oh my Lord... Just so we can see how his hands are leading up to sex.

That's all, love y'all.

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

Jann Mardeborough x reader pt. 2

Pt.1,Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5,Pt.6

Jack saw for the umpteenth time how Jann was looking at the girl's photo and he couldn't take it anymore and asked.,, Who is that girl you stare at for hours every day." Jann slowly looked up from the phone, sighed and answered. "That's Y/N she has been my friend since we were in diapers.” he announced succinctly. Jack just snorted, "You don't look at your friend's photo for two hours a day." Something tells me that she's not just a friend to you." Jack's gaze studied Jan's expression, which stiffened considerably the moment he spoke the last sentence.,, Of course she's not just a friend, she's amazing and I've loved her for a long time, but I don't know how tell her." Jann blurted out. Years of suppressed feelings and desires surfaced. Jack put a hand on Jann's shoulder. "Well, we should get her to see your first race," the older man tried to encourage him.,, She can't come. Unlike me, she's still studying medicine at the university, she can't just pick herself up and go away for her to be with me." the young man replied with bitterness in his voice. Before Jack could continue the conversation, Jann got up and left.

Meanwhile, I was also sad at home, everything I saw reminded me of him. You missed him being gone for so long, although he called me every other day and I watched every one of his interviews, but it's not the same as when we talk live together. Suddenly my phone started ringing, I was looking for where I put it again. When I finally found it, I noticed an unknown number. I took the call.,, Hello this is Y/N L/N how can I help you." I announced formally in case it was a mistake. "Hello miss L/N this is Danny Moore from Nissan."

So what doy think?

If you have any ideas i have open ears.

[fanorfanatic]

Twelve Nights of Christmas

Nicomund the Red/Original Female Character

A story of friends who become lovers… but one of them is Santa Claus.

Warnings: smut, language, alcoholism

[everly98]

After the news of the Stranger Things play came out, I thought one thing: Who knows what Hopper's Father was like? I imagine him to be the classic family man all of a piece, tough, strict to duty, conformist, suspicious and old-fashioned. And who always demanded a lot from his son, but without ever being satisfied.

So a very negative and present father figure who did not approve of his son's rebellion and friendships. In fact of the fourth season Hop says that he went to war, just to prove to his father that he was not as shitty as he thought.

So, yes a relationship that Hop finds very complicated even as an adult. It would be interesting to see Hopper's father in this play.

[parkert01]

PDA - Jim Hopper

You and Jim had been dating for a while, you realised early on in the relationship that he was not a fan of PDA. This meant to hand holding, hugging or kissing in public, to anyone who didn't know you two well, it would have looked like you were friends, not a couple in love.

Although you didn't like it at the start, you came to accept that it was how Jim was and you loved him so you accepted that it wouldn't change. When you were at work together, it was purely professional, mainly because you didn't want to mix business with your personal life. You packed lunches and brought them for him, got him coffee in the mornings and helped him finish his paperwork so he wasn't stuck in the station till the early hours of the morning.  When you two were at home, he loved to have his arms round you at any time, his head in the crook of your neck, giving you little kisses, he was able to be vulnerable around you but in public, he wanted to be seen as a protector. 

It was the station's annual Christmas party and naturally you and Jim were going together, but unlike other years, this year's party was held in a bar instead of the station. You were laughing, dancing and just generally having fun, Jim was right at your side the whole time. Well that was until you went up to the bar for another round of drinks. You felt an arm slip round your waist, you smiled and turned round slightly, smile disappearing when you realised it was a random man, not your boyfriend. You removed the man's arm from around your waist and turned to tell him you had a boyfriend, before you had a chance he started speaking "What's a beautiful girl like you doing here on your own?" "I have a boyfriend, I'm not interested" you replied. He rolled his eyes, put his hand on your shoulder and said "I don't see him around. Come on we can go have some fun"

You swiftly turned around and slapped him, before you had chance to scream at him, Jim was at your side. "She said she had a boyfriend, leave her alone" The guy turned round and squared up to Jim, and said "leave us alone, we were just leaving to have fun". The only reply was Jim punching the man in the face, and then his friends leading him out the bar apologising. Jim put a hand on your shoulder, leant down and kissed you passionately, at that moment it felt like it was only you and him, pulling away you heard the team wolf whistling. You blushed and hid your face in Jim's chest while he laughed and kissed your head. 

He held your hand as you walked back towards the team, you go to sit down on the seat next to Jim, but you were suddenly pulled onto Jim's lap, his arms secured around your waist to prevent your escape while he put his head on your shoulder. You were shocked and happy that he was finally showing you he loved you in public, although you never really doubted his love for you