#david harbour x female reader

[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.

[heavenbarnes]

when it’s that time of night

Jim Hopper x Reader

Warnings/Contains: swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of masturbation, fully clothed sex, implied age gap, canon-typical spookiness

Word Count: 3.4k

i finally finished stranger things and i’m just as hot for hawkins chief of police as i was when i started, so here we are x

Gathered around Joyce Byers' kitchen table, your gaze flickered between the comotion unfolding in front of you, and Hopper. Things had undeniably changed since that evening, and those same things had only seemed to get, well, stranger. A silly part of you hoped that if you glared at him hard enough, things would start to become clear.

"I wouldn't normally do this, but you're about one of the only people I can trust."

Jim stood on your doorstep with three of the neighborhood kids, and one young girl you'd not seen before. This was not something you anticipated when you started seeing Hopper, but nevertheless, you stepped aside and let them in.

Maybe that was why he had brought them hear, because it was in your nature to care more about their safety than what made sense. You let the kids have your TV remote and flick through your records, before you turned back to Hopper with a kind of expression that said "you do this with all the girls that let you sleepover?"

And after that, in all hushed tones in your very small kitchen, Jim divulged tales of disappearing children and ones that could move things with their mind.

"I just need you to keep them safe for a few hours, then I'll explain even more."

As much as he did explain, you felt like the more you saw and heard, the less you knew. Listening to these kids, try to tell you that Joyce's son had been kidnapped by the monster from their boardgame? You felt like you needed to lay down a while.

Your skills ranged from serving diner meals on rollerskates, and driving the neighborhood boys crazy in the process. You weren't sure how you'd fear as a monster hunter. Young Jonathan Byers snapped you from your thoughts by throwing a theory out to the group.

"So for us to strike whilst the iron is hottest, we'd just need to know when it will all start happening again?" 

Everyone murmured in agreement but Hopper wasn't having it.

"Ok, so when exactly would that be? Are you going to tell me there is just a time that these things are all going to kick off?"

Your ears pricked up and suddenly your mouth was opening before your brain could catch it.

"Three in the morning." That had everyone's eyes on you.

Not used to hearing you join in on these things, Hopper prompted you to carry on.

You pushed up off the wall you were leaning against and spoke again. "Three in the morning, the witching hour."

"What is the witching hour?" Jonathan pressed you further.

"My Grandmother used to tell me about it, in folklore they say that three in the morning is the witching hour." You stepped further towards the table where they had all congregated.

"It's when the veil between this part of the world," One of your hands lay flat beneath your chin, whilst the other lay palm turned up in line with your belly "And this part of the world,"

"Like Australia?" Dustin questioned, receiving a smack in the arm from Mike.

"No, like the underworld or what you guys call the upside down, it's when the veil between the two is at it's thinnest allowing the unforgiving to travel through."

They all looked from each other and back to you, beginning to fear that you might be onto something.

"Believe me, I work in a 24-hour diner, if things are going to get strange it's going to be at three in the morning."

"What kind of strange?" Joyce spun round at that comment, a sort of pleading in her eyes.

"The lights will pulse, and the machines will start to get these electricity surges, I hate working the nights in there." The look she gave you began to prick the hairs on the back of your neck. "Why are you looking like I've just laid the last piece in your puzzle?"

"Because I think you just have."

Ever since you spoke the witching hour theory into existence, you hadn't been able to get it off your mind. That very next day, your boss called the house and told you that you'd be on the night shift, and Veronica's kid had mono so you'd be doing it alone.

Something told you that you'd made a mistake speaking it outloud, that now this- well whatever this was, but now that it knew you knew it's secrets, it was onto you. However that could've all been crazy, and maybe Hawkins was getting lazy with it's electrical and it just got screwy when they thought everyone was sleeping.

Regardless, it was now 1.41am and there wasn't a customer in sight. It was just you, the empty diner, and the fast approaching witching hour. For the first time in your life, you actually wished one of the town's teenage boys would come in and hound your for a date, just so you had some company.

You resorted to wiping down the counter for about the 30th time that night, a spot of mess at the one of the back booths catching your eye. Leaving the counter, you roller-skated down the back of the store and cleaned up the leftover baskets and napkins. You were bent over the table, flicking the the cloth over the surface when you heard it. The bell on the door.

Your blood rain cold and just about every hair on your body stood on end. An unexplainable feeling drifted over you, that feeling when you know it's all gone wrong, but there just isn't anything you can do about it. That feeling enveloped you and it took over you, you couldn't even bring yourself to turn your head.

Heavy, heavy steps were heading your way and you knew it was do or die. You could try shoot the gap to the backroom, that or beat whatever it was with your bare hands. As it got closer you geared up all your strength and spun around on your skate in an instant.

"I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU, YOU STUPID FUCKING-"

"GOD, PUT YOUR ARMS DOWN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

Hopper gripped your wrists and stilled you moments before you lay your fists in his eye sockets. Your breathing slowly came back down to a normal pace, but you could still feel your pulse rattling around in your body. Of course it was just Hopper, of course it wasn't a boardgame monster stopping by for a snack.

"What are you doing here?" You still sounded exasperated as you pulled your arms from his grip and threw yourself into his chest.

He brought both his arms around your shoulders and pulled you further into him, giving you a moment to calm yourself down. "I came in to keep you company, I know you've been a little on edge since you brought up that shit at the Byers' house."

"God, thank you so much, I'm sorry for trying to beat you to death." Voice muffled by his chest, your sentiments were still appreciated.

He brought you back down to the front of the shop and you took one side of the counter each. Fixing him a coffee as a half-hearted apology for the near miss, you slid it across the counter to take place of an olive branch. He accepted with a grin, unable to stay mad at you, even when you're trying to knock his teeth out.

"I am actually so sorry, I really have been on edge, I don't know why." Your head fell into your hands, gently tugging at your own hair.

"Hey, hey come here." He called you around the counter, turning around in his stool as you got closer.

Pulling you between his spread legs, you settled back into his hold, allowing those big hands to rub down the spanse of your back. Even his touch alone could soothe you, even when you were still a little terrified of a time on the clock. His hands moved to your lower back, gently rubbing away all the tensions you'd held inside you for sometime.

There was something about Hopper, from the moment you finally let him drive you home after a shift, giving in to his multitudes of compliments about your roller-skates and your coffee pouring and your little uniform. He was warm and he was kind, he made you laugh and he felt good when he wrapped himself around you. Oh, and it couldn't be forgotten that the Hawkins Chief of Police was unbelievable in the sack.

"You got any customers tonight?" His voice rumbled against your whole body, sounding from deep insdie his chest.

You pushed back from him, letting his hands fall to your waist and your eyes meet, your fingers played with the buttons of his uniform.

"Not since 11.30, and I won't see anymore, I never do." You sighed, tipping your head back with a petty groan. "I still don't know why they have me here so late."

Hopper's hands drifted lower, ever so slightly, until his fingers were toying with the hem of your dress. The gentle touch pricked your skin up, understanding from a touch alone exactly what his intentions were. You kept your gaze fixed on his, a look in your eye that almost seemed to say "go for it."

One of his hands took yours, long fingers slotting between yours as he pulled you out from between his legs. Your roller-skates glided you easily along the linoleum floor, putting you out in front of him.

"Do a twirl for me?" His mouth quirked up into a smirk, making a heat rise up your neck and settle at your cheeks.

You didn't so much agree as he did it for you, lifting your arm and twirling you around on the wheels of your skates. If your dress wasn't so tight, it would've spun around you, but your apron did it for you. An unmissable grin spread across Jim's face, watching your little pose at the end as you both giggled.

"I believe they have you here so late to keep you in this little uniform just a bit longer." His voice was gruff, pulling you towards him again.

"Oh is that what it is?"

"That is what it is," His hands went back to the hem and seemed to sneak under it. "It's to make life harder for me."

"So, this is about you?"

"All about me, it's so I have to sit at home and just think about your pretty ass skating around in this tiny fucking dress, and there isn't anything I can do about it."

It got hotter in the diner, right in that very moment, you could feel it spreading across your body as you lent into him. Your lips ghosted just moments above his, so close he could feel your breath on his skin.

"Well you aren't at home now," You whispered, very nearly placing your lips on his. "What are you 'gonna do about it?"

He didn't have to tell you, it was rather a display to show you what he'd do. His lips came to yours, his signature was a domineering kiss that left you reeling an unable to think of anything else afterwards. His kisses left a hold over you, the way his tongue felt against yours, the way his hands moved against you. This man had you good.

Standing up from the stool, he wrapped one hand around your waist, pulling you flush against him in one swift movement. Your hands went up to his jaw, feeling his coarse beard under your fingers as you pulled his face closer to yours. One of your hands took his hat from the top of his head and hung it off the register beside you.

Hopper kept his hand on your waist, and left the other go beneath your thigh. In one swift motion he lifted you, placing you down on the counter before pushing the skirt of your dress up your legs. With a hand on each knee, he spread them apart and pulled you right to the edge, pushing himself between them to get even closer.

You moaned into his mouth, the feeling of him handling you like his brought a wave over you, making your legs shake around him. One of his hands traveled higher up your thigh, making it's way past the bunched fabric and between your legs. Two fingers pressed firmly against the seat of your underwear and it was made apparent, just how wet he'd gotten you.

"Fuck, little lady you are always so good for me, aren't you?" His voice was nearly a bark, lips moving down your jaw and to your throat.

"I try my best, chief."

His motions stopped at the sound of that name, and within in instant he was pulling your underwear down your legs. It hung around one of your roller-skates as he pushed both your legs over his broad shoulders, leaning you back till you were perched up on your elbows.

Hopper's mouth found the meeting of your thighs, his tongue coming out to lick a fine stripe along your heat. Your mouth fell open and your hands flew to his head, fingers threading into his hair as he began to move his tongue against you.

Gasps and nearly pathetic whimpers fell from your lips as he worked against your clit, rolling it against his tongue with unreal precision. The only word leaving your lips was his title, the sound of chief filled the diner and bounced off the windows.

His hands gripped your thighs, holding them apart as your body willed you to clamp them around his head. Your hips rolled forward, pressing you further into his mouth as his tongue moved down further before coming back up to that one spot.

So quickly, you could already feel that tension building inside you, a fine line of pleasure that was ready to snap. His eyes rose up to you, locking with you and making about every muscle inside you tighten. That look in his eye, it could've killed you the way you knew exactly what it meant.

He had a sweet tooth only you were pretty enough to sate.

One of his hands left your thigh and moved below the counter, you listened to the sound of his belt buckle as he haphazardly undid it one-handed. You heard his fly next and it was incredibly apparent that he was palming himself as his tongue still moved against you.

The thought, the image in your mind, the sounds he made as he moaned against your wetness it was all too much. Your head tipped back, fingers tightened in his hair as you cried out for him. You felt that line snap as your release washed over you.

Hopper never let up, lips still pursed around your clit as you rode out your high, nearly overtaking you. He never went to far, always new the line and he pulled back as he stood to full height. Your legs fell to his sides and you looked up to see him grasping himself in his hand.

His other hand trailed against your sensitive heat, two fingers dragging through the wetness that remained there.

"You have the sweetest fucking pussy I've ever got my hands on." He growled as he dove in for a kiss, the taste of you ever present on his lips.

He took that hand from between your legs and used it to slick up his cock, twisting your wetness around himself as he lay his head at your entrance. He dragged it along your sensitive cunt, before slowly pushing his way in.

The gasp that fell from you was iminent, Jim had a stretch like nothing else. Your body relaxed into this kiss and into him until he was hip-deep within you.

"And your pussy is so fucking tight, I can't believe how lucky I got." 

"It's all for you, chief, fuck me like you mean it."

So he did, his hands slid to the other side of the counter and gripped the edge before he delivered the first incredible blow. Your back arched up and a cry was ripped from within you as he pumped his hips quickly against your own.

Your hands shot up to grip his arms, feeling the muscles tensing beneath the cotton of his work shirt. Legs tensing up around his hips, moans and whimpers still steadily coming from you, it only seemed to spur him on like he was listening for the way you fell apart for him.

"You look so good taking my cock, pretty girl." He huffed, one hand leaving the counter to come and grip your hip.

He pulled you back against him with every thrust, striking deep inside you and rolling your eyes back in your head. Still on edge from the flood of pleasure he had just dipped you in, you felt like you were right there, teetering on the edge and waiting to be pushed over.

Always knowing exactly what he was doing, exactly what would drive you crazy and have you falling apart around him. Maybe this is what it had all been about, that talk about being with an older man, you'd heard the stories and he'd proven them all right.

From the moment you'd started sleeping over with each other, Hopper had changed your life. You didn't know if you could go back to nights without getting your back blown out by Jim Hopper. He would always talk about how he couldn't believe he got a pretty young thing like yourself, but you didn't know how you'd lucked out on someone that made you feel the way he did.

Gripping onto his uniform and crying out for him, you felt that hand on your hip slip down to your clit, rubbing furious circles against it. Another moan of that name, that title that until you had said it, was nothing more than a work give name. Now, the way that you said it gave it a whole new meaning.

It had gotten so bad that he had to stop asking you to call him that in front of people, after he'd pitched a tent the day you visited him at the station. Now that was reserved for teasing.

The way he touched you, how he knew your body, it had you dangerously close to coming undone for him once again that evening. Your heat clenched around him, dragging him in with a raw cry ripping out of your throat and rising above the both of you.

That line snapped once more and you couldn't help the way your hips rose from the counter and your body twitched under the mountain of pleasure. Over the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears, you could hear the words of encouragement coming from Hopper.

He rode out your high with you again, pulling you back against him and refusing to let up as you felt him faltering slightly. "That's my good girl, 'gonna make me come."

You reached your hands up his chest, pulling against his shirt as you arched your back for him again. Your lips pursed as you mustered the strength to call out to him.

"Come for me, chief."

And that was enough to do it for him, his hips stilling tight against you as he came deep in you. Grunts and chopped cries of your name could be heard as he pulled you flush towards his chest, arms wrapped under your back as his heart hammered against both of your chests.

He let you back down from the counter, fixing himself as you pulled up your underwear and smoothed out your uniform. You placed his hat back on his head as he sat back on the stool, before you slotted back between his thighs.

As he wrapped his arms back around you, you heard, and then you saw it. That electrical pulsing, that buzzing that seemed to come from the lightbulbs. Right as your heart-rates had just come back as they should, you physically felt yours pick up again.

"Baby, what'd you call that damn time again?"

Your eyes moved from the flickering lights to the big clock on the wall, the one you usually focused on for your breaks. The hands were pointing clear as day, three in the morning.

"The witching hour."

[diordrysdale]

thrill of the rush ⋆ jim hopper

soft!dark!jim hopper x college!female!reader

word count ⋆ 1.4k

warnings ⋆ smut! minor dni, age gap (reader is a college student), semi-public sex, degradation kink, spit kink, slapping, size kink, dubcon, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, daddy kink, submissive!reader, mean!jim,

author’s note ⋆ older fictional men *sighs in hornyness* + no spoilers, this isn’t really set on a specific season or plot, just a little au <3

don’t forget to give me some love, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

you had taken over his mind completely.

everything reminded him of you.

from the smoke of his cigarettes that you whole-heartedly hated— as you’d told him countless times, but you swoon either way when he places the stick between his lips, lighting it up— to the moonlight that decorated the summer nights of june you’d spent sneaking around with him.

everyone was curious as to why hawkins’ stargirl was suddenly attached at hip with the chief of police.

oh, they’d be dumbfounded if they knew if the unexpected friendship was far from innocent.

if they were to learn how insatiable they both became for each other.

he was no longer ashamed of how much he adored spending time between your thighs— he had lawfully memorized the taste of your slick on his tongue.

but you had become distant this week, blowing him off with lousy excuses.

he knew something was going on.

removing his hat, he stepped into the library where his eyes darted across the room, convinced you’d be hidden behind a book-

“ahem.” marisa, the librarian cleared her throat at the sight of the cop.

he nodded once, irking at how uncomfortable the atmosphere had immediately become, both parties reminiscing at how he apparently forgot to call her after a lousy date once upon a time.

he shuffled away, ears perking up at the quiet humming in the corner and the tapping of your sneakers against the carpet floor.

“hey,” he spoke, stomach churning when your head whipped up with widened [e/c] eyes.

“hopper… what’re you doing here?” you stood from your chair slowly as he circled around the table, reaching for your hand as he tugged you between the bookshelves.

“you weren’t answering your calls, so I assumed you weren’t in your dorm,” he mentioned, leaving you to lean gently against the books as you glanced up at him.

“I needed to clear my head, so I just- i-“ he cupped your cheek with his large hand and halted your stuttering, frowning a bit.

“what’s wrong?” he mumbled, watching you sigh with teary eyes as you fiddled with the buttons of his uniform.

“it’s stupid.” you bite back tears, not giving a single thought to his thumb that begun to trace your pouting lips, lust in his eyes.

he had the weight of a long fucking day on his shoulders, he just needed to feel you on his cock.

“c’mon, sweetheart, tell me,” he urged as his free hand disappeared under your mini skirt, his fingers playing with your cutesy, cotton panties.

“last friday, w-when you dropped me off at my dorm…” you trailed off when his large hand forcefully tugged your underwear down your legs, leaving them to puddle around your toes.

“keep talking.” he grumbled, shoving your legs apart his own as his thick fingers found your clit immediately, causing you to whimper and glance around the empty library.

“I-I- um, I got a phone call a-and- fuck!” you cursed out softly as his middle and ring finger circled rapidly on your pulsing button, before he abruptly stopped and rose his palm to smack your cheek, turning your face to the side.

“do I gotta wash your mouth with soap?huh?” he gripped your cheeks and forced you to look at him with the tears streaming down your face, “I’ve taught you better, haven’t i?”

you nodded rapidly, leading his hand back to your heat, “yes- i’m sorry, daddy.”

he grins in satisfaction as he gathers your dripping honey and spreads it across your lips, massaging them a bit for you like a gentlemen.

“so, I got a phone call and it was a boy.” you continued, squirming a bit as he frowned, maneuvering your body, guiding you to sit on the ground as he removed his jacket, placing it behind you— it was like a routine, you knew exactly what to do: lay down on his uniform jacket, spread your legs, and thank him for what was to come.

“a boy, huh?” he hovers on top of you, unbuckling his slacks as you help him slightly pull them down like a good girl, practically salivating at his hardened shaft.

“y-yes, he wanted to know if I’d go out with him-“ you gasped as his thumb zeroed on your swelling clit, making your shut your thighs around his hand but it was no use, your jaw fell slack as your hands attempted to shove him away, it was pathetic, you were already coming for him within seconds, slowly coating his gifted hand with your cream.

“and who the fuck was this boy, baby?” he continued to touch your puffy folds, pride filling his chest at your aftershocks and bratty whines.

“billy. billy hargrove.” you look up at him, terrified of his reaction, and just as you thought, his expression was cold.

you hadn’t thought of him as the jealous type, but there was just something about you that made him feel possessive— he just loved you just a little too much.

“and you wanted to go with him?” he reveals his cock, painfully erect as he rubs it up and down your slit, coating himself in you, as if you were claiming him.

“you wanted to go on a little date with him, like a fucking whore?” he spat cruelly, prodding his engorged tip against your hole— and you couldn’t admit it out loud, but his brutal words made your head spin.

“n-no,” you whimpered, preening at the way his calloused hand began to knead at your clothed tits, he wanted to feel you all over, but there was only so much you could do in the secluded back area of the library.

“you wanted to see if he could make this dumb little cunt feel good?” he made his cock slap on your pussy, the wet noises echoing loud enough for the two of you to etch into your minds forever.

“only you can make me feel good, daddy, I promise— ” you cried out as you were interrupted by the sudden thrust of his cock through your wet, velvety hole, fucking it with a slow pace, but you knew what was next, he wouldn’t be gentle.

“I asked a yes or no question,” he panted as one hand gripped at your hips, and the other held himself up, and before you could think, he spat onto your cheek.

“you know what to do, slut,” he smirked when your trembling fingers reached for the saliva treading down your skin, gathered it and brought it to your lips, making them glimmer, “now, answer me.”

“n-no, he could never make me feel good, not like you do,” your confession is followed with wanton moans, feeling his cock ram into you over and over again, his heavy breaths heating up your neck as he left sloppy kisses down your skin.

it made you realize he hadn’t kissed your lips yet, it made you feel like a his very own sex doll, and even though it made you feel dirty, you loved it.

“fuck my pussy, daddy— faster, please,” your legs wrapped tightly around his sturdy waist, wanting nothing other that to feel his penetration deeper, feeling every ridge, every nudge of the pulsing head of his cock against your cervix— you were mesmerized.

“what’d I say about those filthy words?” you were positive he’d smack your clit just how you wanted, but you cried out when the rough fingers of his free hand ran beneath your blouse, only to pinch and tug at your sensitive nipples.

“you love how this feels, right baby? you drive me fucking insane,” the tears running down your cheeks made his balls tighten, thighs shook as he tried to drag out his orgasm, but it was too late, he was shooting his hot load deep inside of you.

you hadn’t even realized he didn’t have a condom on, but, fuck, it felt amazing.

“shit,” he breathed out, lifting your shirt to lower down and suckle at your breasts, giving him some sort of calm and comfort as he came down.

“daddy,” you whimpered when his teeth dragged against your nipples, hoping he’d detach, yet your back arched for more.

“we’re going back to my place, sweetheart,” his forehead rested against your chest, his mustache tickling your skin, “but before that, we’re giving billy hargrove a visit.”

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

a/n; this took a dark turn but I seriously cannot stop thinking about this man he makes me FERAL

[lavendertales]

Rules—Jim Hopper x f!reader**

summary: you made a promise to not even look at chief Jim Hopper in order to keep your relationship a secret. but after a while, you can’t keep it together any longer.

word count: 1.6k

WARNINGS: fondling, teasing, dry humping, semi-public action.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

A/N: my apologies to Joyce. Jopper is still #1 in my heart, but this one’s for us, Hopper gals 😌

gif: @wheelernancy​ 

He’s only ever asked for one thing from you: discretion. It wasn’t about hiding or avoiding anyone, really, just keep a low profile when it comes to the two of you. That meant no visits to his office, no visits to your office, no side eyes to each other, and not a word that could be misinterpreted as anything more than polite.

It had gotten increasingly difficult over the past few weeks though. You’ve been patient and low-key thrilled about the secrecy, but dating Chief Jim Hopper was something to brag about in itself. It was difficult to see him and not kiss him, not even cuddle up to him or smile brightly and happily.

But you knew that his coworkers would make this a reason to gossip, tease Hopper in any way they could, and that wouldn’t reflect well on either of you. Hopper already had a sketchy reputation when it came to women in spite of his grim past, and you certainly didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.  You also would’ve liked to be there for him and share a normal connection, without fearing of what others have to say.

Needless to say, you were in a bit of a pickle.

You’ve been good so far. In the five months you had been secretly seeing Chief Hopper, you have behaved accordingly. A little too much, you might cheekily add. Though in the intimacy of his—or your—place, Hopper always rewarded you plenty for your good behavior, nothing would’ve compared to the thrill of being a little naughty, for once.

Truthfully, you didn’t plan this per se. It’s based merely on subconscious desire, guiding you almost blindly to the police station. The visit is no different than any other, except—well. You suppose this is a more conjugal visit after all. You’ve never visited the station and simply waltzed into his office or even demanded to see him. You always waited for him to come to you, outside, in the car, in the dark. So this is unknown territory all around. Yet, you carry yourself with confidence. You are well known among the officers for being a very sweet neighbor and a very hardworking lady. None of the police officers know you as Hopper does behind closed doors.

Much to your luck, the station is nearly deserted. The janitor already began his night shift, but the light in Hopper’s office is still on. Smiling politely as you walk by the janitor, you knock on the door, trembling with forbidden excitement upon hearing his raspy “Come in”.

You wear a bright smile as a greeting, as opposed to Hopper’s wide eyes and shocked face. He immediately stands up, cautiously sprinting to the door to close it behind you.

“What are you doing here?” he asks frantically.

“Filing a complaint.”

His face drops, suddenly a whole other concern on his mind. “What, really?”

“Yes, really. I don’t see you as often lately, and not as publicly as I should.”

Hopper exhales, rolling his eyes. This is certainly not the place for you to have such a dramatic reaction, but he also suspects you’re not there at that ungodly hour to tell him just that.

“This couldn’t have waited till tomorrow?”

“No, Hop. I understand why it’s best to keep this under the radar, but… it would be nice to be able to sit next to you without you calling me ‘ma’am’ or asking me about my reason for being at the station.”

Hopper falls back into the chair, examining your face. There’s clear hurt smeared over it, but nothing short of mischievousness. He sees the flicker in your eyes, the way it dances in your irises, seemingly teasing him.

“I get what you want, baby, but it’d be so much harder that way.”

“You’ve been working too much. I barely see you,” you sulk.

“I know, I know, baby…”

“What am I supposed to do while I wait for you all alone at home? It’s just me in that big house, thinking of you… playing with myself…”

That draws him in without fail. His pupils are fully blown as he stares at you pretending to sulk and be upset. The uniform starts to strange him, and suddenly he feels like ripping it off entirely. He gulps, watching you sit on the edge of his desk, legs crossed enough to expose your thigh in that sinfully short skirt that turn him into a puddle.

“That what you do?” he asks in a thick, coarse voice, a wild smirk on his lips. “Sit around and touch yourself?”

“Sometimes, yes. I mean, what other choice do I have when you’re not there, you know?”

He scoffs, his large hands reaching to pull you across the desk and onto his lap. You gasp in surprise when you land on his thighs, biting your lower lip and taking off his hat.

“You could just wait for me,” he coos.

You shrug. “I could, but I just get sooo wet, it’s unbearable.”

Hopper’s hands boldly reach behind you to grab handfuls of your ass, squeezing it till you gasp and roll your hips as a response. The movement feels surprisingly good; even he’s astounded at the feeling of your almost bear pussy grinding on his leg.

“How unbearable is it now?” he asks.

“Very.”

Your voice is dark, filled a desire like none before. You repeat the movement from before, trying to establish a rhythm on his thigh while Hopper kisses you deeply, almost swallowing you entirely. You moan into his mouth, a cue for him to squeeze your ass again and subsequently move you on his thigh. You try to stifle your gasps as much as possible, even as Hopper shushes you.

“We don’t wanna alert the janitor that there’s an impending mess to be made, would we?” he cheekily asks.

You nod, Hopper’s hands moving in tandem with your hips as you finally figure out a rhythm. You only stop to pull your panties to the side, much to his surprise. He can barely contain himself, especially when he remarks the wet trail you’re leaving on his pants and how hard he’s gotten already. Risqué is not enough to describe the current situation, but it’s oddly enticing. You can’t stop rubbing your wetness against his thigh, and thinking you could get caught makes it ten times better.

And then Hopper leans in to kiss you again, sloppy and greedy, your hands never leaving your ass. He’s starting to think about all the ways he’ll get to use them when he gets you home, in the solitude needed for you both to release all of that tension.

“Hop—I think I’m—“

“Yeah?” he grunts in between kisses. “Go for it, baby. Gimme a good one.”

You can’t help but; next thing you know, you spasm and seize up right there on this thigh, convulsing around nothing and smearing your arousal all over his work pants. You know he’s gonna use this as an excuse to scold you and then fuck it out of you later, and that thought makes you smile through your climax.

“Atta girl,” he smiles as well, his head buried at your chest as your own is thrown backwards in sheer ecstasy.

When you slow down, still reeling from the force of the unexpected orgasm, you smile at him, cup his cheeks and kiss him sweetly, tenderly.

“You’re okay to walk to the car like this?” he teases you some more.

“I’ve been in worse shape.”

You giggle, hands pressed on his chest. In that moment, you know he’s also thinking of the times he’s fucked you so hard your legs were shaking, simply turning into boneless masses of flesh. And even then you tried to be bold about it, but he chuckled and pulled you back to bed, any sign of confidence vanished when he held you in his arms.

You get down from his lap, struggling to adjust your attire, and Hopper keeps his mouth shut. He makes no cocky comment, he simply admires you. Then, he follows into your footsteps and stands up, looking around for potential colleagues. Luckily, everyone’s gone. Mark the janitor might still be there, but he never pays any mind to any business that goes down around the station.

Trusting his gut, Hopper picks you up and puts you over his shoulder, making sure at the same time that nothing beneath your skirt is revealed.

“Hopper, what the hell are you doing?!”

“We’re going home, baby.”

“Yeah but what in God’s name—“

Hopper shuts the door behind him, nodding once towards Mark, who only side eyes him.

“Evening, Mark,” he salutes him. “Take it easy, man.”

“Evening, Chief.”

Not a single stare, nothing. Even you’re surprised as you dangle from Hopper’s shoulder, but you’re left feeling rather thankful as well. You didn’t want anyone asking questions about that particular sight.

He finally puts you down when you get to his car, and you throw him a shocked glare again.

“What the hell was that? Did privacy go out the window?” you nearly laugh.

“It kinda did when you came into my office with ill intentions.”

“I beg your pardon, Chief Hopper, I had nothing but kind intentions.”

He cocks an eyebrow at you and you both get into the car. You do a little gesture to arrange your outfit, and this time, he lets out a big sigh, followed by a chuckle.

“At least one of us has,” he replies. “Cause when we get home, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

tags:

@spitfire4life​ @trickstersp8​ 

[ramenkween]

every time i read eddie smut/imagines/pairings and the writers mention his rings

thank you everyone, i’m forever horny for this man :)

[flamehairedwritings]

Sweet As Sugar

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 774 

Rating: M, 16+ only

A/N: For Hallowe’en Prompts 2018! Thank you so much to the anon who requested:

‘Oh goodness, can we get a lil Halloween night loving with Hop? Just handing out candy and watching spooky movies and kissing on the couch? 🧡🖤’

Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

“Trick or treat!”

You grin upon opening the door to a giggling ghost, a sparkly witch and a tired werewolf.

“Wow, don’t you all look great! I love your wand.” You nod at the twigs the witch is holding, seemingly only held together at this point in the evening by a glob of glitter and the little girl’s joy.

“Thank you, I used it to turn Dada into a werewolf!”

You share a sympathetic smile with the sighing werewolf as you hold out the bowl of candy in your hands to his eclectic offspring. They giggle as they take a handful and stuff them into their bags with a loud ‘Thank youuu!’ before turning and darting back down the path.

“Have a nice evening!” you call out as their father races after them, a few patches of stuck-on hair left in his wake.

Ah, Hallowe’en.

Your smile lingers as you close the door and move back into the living room, taking your own handful of candy on the way.

“So,” you announce as you enter, placing the bowl on the coffee table. “That was our seventh witch, fifth ghost and third werewolf of the evening.”

“And your tenth mound of candy.”

“Our tenth mound,” you correct as you resume your position on the couch.

Jim Hopper’s mouth twitches as you offer him the candy, his arm returning to its place around you.

“Damn right ‘our’,” he murmurs as he takes one and somehow manages to unwrap it with one hand, popping it into his mouth and flicking the wrapper onto the coffee table.

You struggle to open your own choice of candy with two hands as you settle your head on his chest, your gaze on the TV screen.

“What did I miss?”

“He’s actually a werewolf.” Without moving his eyes from the screen, Hopper takes the candy from your hands and unwraps it for you, one handed, flicking the wrapper away as you murmur a thank you.

“I knew it,” you say as you chew, your fist settling under your chin. “Is he gonna eat her?”

“Yeah. She’s run off into the middle of the woods, of course.”

“Of course.”

You fall silent as you both watch the screaming woman jog through the trees, stumbling over every other step.

“Would you eat me if you were a werewolf?” you ask, reaching for another candy.

“Of course.”

“What?”

“I don’t think I’d be able to control it, baby, I’d hunt you down straight away.”

“Right, that’s it, I’m leaving you.”

Swinging your legs off the couch, the corners of your mouth twitching, you push yourself up onto your feet and start to round the coffee table when you feel his hands on your hips. Tugging you back, he pulls you down, his arm encircling your waist as he turns you in one swift movement and presses you down on to the couch.

Biting at the inside of your cheeks in an unsuccessful attempt to hide a smile as he leans over you, you arch an eyebrow.

“I can’t believe you said you’d eat me with no hesitation. I’m meant to be the love of your life, Hopper.”

“How’s that so hard to believe, sweetheart,” he murmurs, lowering his head to brush his lips up your jaw. “I already know how sweet you taste.”

Your mouth drops open with a delighted smile and an only slightly shocked gasp as you draw your head back to gaze at him.

“Chief Hopper, such crude words and it’s not even eight o’clock.”

His arm tightens around you as he tries to suppress his own smile, ducking his head and mouthing languidly at your neck to distract you. It works. Biting at your lower lip, your eyes close as his warm kisses have your back starting to arch and your hands gliding over his shoulders. You hum low in your throat as his teeth graze over your skin, and you can’t stop yourself from rolling your hips up —

The doorbell chimes.

A wide smile spreads across your lips as he releases a long sigh into the crook of your neck. Wiggling a little as you shift to try and get your legs out from under him, you expect him to move.

He does not.

Instead, you feel his lips brush along your collarbone and his hand grip your hip.

“Hopper...”

The doorbell chimes again.

“Trick or treat!”

“Hop—“

You break off with a sharp gasp and a breathless smile as his teeth gently sink into your skin. 

“Ignore it,” he murmurs into your ear, his hand sliding under your shirt. “I’m about to have my own treat.”

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future work!

Tagged: @persephone-divine, @casownsmyass​, @davidkharboursex​, @palasathenea, @jobean12-blog​, @warmbeardsandredwine​, @mademoiselle-black​, @scrunchinn​, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​, @divadinag​, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae​, @ashphoenix105​, @alahmorah​, @daughterofthebrowncoats​, @letsby​, @tbkc​, @kiwiphroot​, @ashmely​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​, @unicornsandgliiitter​, @lucifer-in-leather​, @fearandloathing-in-missouri​, @heyjudeinthesky​, @sleepylunarwolf​, @ambeazyyy​, @countryfire22​, @sithlordslut​, @mondsafari​, @thejealousorchard​, @norcula​, @yondu-gonna-do-about-it, @earinafae​, @beltzboys2015-blog​, @jinxiejenna​, @hopperholland, @justsimplevicky​, @hellosupernaturaldoctor​, @lonelygirl-97, @ginasellsbooks​, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413​, @mrslydiaholden​, @kimberliinabox​, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly​, @allylupin​, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off​, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves​, @warriorqueen1991​, @thesurestthing​, @zuni21798​,  @quietlovelovely​, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail​, @happy-hopper​, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22, @slipperywhenwetsstuff, @crushed-pink-petals

Banner from https://allaboutjohnmcblain.wordpress.com/2013/10/31/happy-halloween/

[neganwifey25-blog]

Woooowwww😮‍💨🤤

Joyful Night

Pairing: Santa Claus (Nikamund The Red) x fem!reader

Rating: explicit (MINORS BE GONE)

word count: 1.9k

warnings: oral sex, penetration, creampie, nipple play. 

Summary: You comfort your husband after his Christmas night run. 

A/N: you know what the fuck is going on. This actually got a little sentimental but what’s porn without a story? Not beta’d. Credit to the gif maker(s). 

You’ve never worried over Nik.

Not once.

But when the reindeers arrived back at the property without him bickering over them in the sleigh, you instantly knew something was wrong.

“Oh, my darling boys,” you coo, running your hands over their tufted fur coats. You needed to set aside some time to groom them later in the week. “What trouble has he gotten himself into now?”

Keep reading

[justsomewritingsandshit]

Christmas Gifts and Companionship

Jim Hopper x Female!Reader

Length: 1293 words

Warnings: female reader, some spoilers for season 2, talk of reader being younger than Hopper, literally just Hopper christmas shopping for Jane/El

Not a warning, but genuinely thank you to everyone who reads my writing! Currently I have over 500 followers, which is just amazing to me! Love and thanks to everyone!

For some people, Christmas could be the loneliest time of the entire calendar year. In Hawkins Indiana, this was especially true of those who didn’t also have family who lived in the small, ‘sleepy’ town. It’s a well-known fact that people were inclined to spend their holidays with loved ones, and that this left those without in the lurch. For the Chief of Hawkins’ Police, Jim Hopper (a lonely man who had lost a young child to cancer, and a wife to a life that did not involve him) this had been the case for a number of years. The bear of a man usually spent this period of the year being the ‘on call’ police officer at the station, or drinking his sorrows away with scotch, occasionally alternating with seasonally-appropriate eggnog.

This year was different to previous years, however, as Jim Hopper had ‘adopted’ a young girl by the name Jane, whom he happily planned to spend the holidays with. It had been a long process for their small family, and getting to this point, where the whole town knew of his adoption of the girl, had been arduous. After a year of hiding, a trip or two to Hawkins’ Lab (better known as; The Place No-one Wants To Go Back To), plenty of fights (both of the physical, emotional, and supernatural variety), and a heck load of tears… Well, it had been a long year for Jane ‘El’ Hopper, which is exactly why the police Chief found himself standing in the middle of the town’s new toy shop, that had opened only the month before. He felt she more than deserved a really good gift, for her first ‘real’ Christmas.

The only problem was, he didn’t know what to get her.

Jim had been tempted to ask Joyce Byers, perhaps ring her up and question what a young girl may want as a present. He had stopped himself from doing that, though. He understood that the stressed-out woman needed time to grieve for Bob, and then attempt to celebrate the holidays with her family. The Chief had considered phoning the Wheeler’s house, to interrogate Mike on his daughter, but then scrapped that idea when he realised he’d have to talk to Mrs Wheeler (a woman in a loveless marriage, who made him uncomfortable with her not-so-subtle flirting).

So, this left Hop awkwardly staring down a big, plush-looking teddy-bear, wondering if his Jane was too old for something like that. Did she even want a cuddly-toy? The girl was already reaching her teens, so he swiftly scrapped that idea all together. His eyes trailed down the shelving to some board games, and Hopper wondered if they had that ‘Dungeons’ game in the store. He knew that ‘El’ sometimes went to the Wheeler’s to play said game with the boys. He ended up grabbing a box that looked like it had magical illustrations on the front, but saw it to be named ‘Neverlandia’ rather than ‘Dungeons-something-or-other’.

“You need some help, officer?” The voice definitely startled the tall man, breaking his deep thoughts, despite its mellowness. Swiftly turning around, Jim met the amused smile of Y/N Y/L, the proprietor of the entire toy shop. The two had met a few weeks ago, when he had attempted to take Jane shopping. The kind woman had helped the two of them navigate buying clothes for a young girl, who was close to transitioning into a teenager. “’Neverlandia’, huh? Didn’t take you for games like that. I always saw you as more of a ‘Guess Who?’ guy.”

Jim smirked a little at the joke. He was man enough to admit that this woman (who was a fair few years younger than him, a decade younger at least) was absolutely gorgeous when she teasingly ribbed him. “Actually, I’m into Scrabble, thanks. And uh, no, this isn’t for me, actually.”

Before he could further explain himself, she cut him off, “Please don’t tell me you’re thinking of buying this for that sweet daughter of yours.” At his stricken look, she laughed loudly, her shoulder shaking as her face scrunched in complete amusement. “Oh, don’t you listen to her?” There was a pause as Y/N giggled, “Mr Hopper, you absolute man, she fully said to me, in front of you only two weeks ago, that she hates board games.”

Hop didn’t remember them discussing this, “What?”

“She said that she hates the rules to them? ‘Too many and not fun’, if I remember correctly.”

Well, that sounded more familiar to Jim. “Then why does she play them every week, with her little friends?” Something about the look in Y/N’s eyes told him he might not like the answer.

“She only plays because of a boy, duh.” The teasing tone wasn’t lost on him.

“Ah.” He put back the box, now not knowing what to get her at all now. “Do you, uh, have any suggestions then, on what to get her?” Any recommendation at this point would be helpful.

Y/N sized him up for a moment, then looked over her shoulder to a wall of photo frames, which lined said shop’s wall. “I have an idea, but it’s not exactly a toy.” She wandered over to where she was looking, and Jim easily followed her path. The younger woman pointed to one of the older photos, which had faded slightly over time. The photograph showed a young girl and what looked like her father, smiling and laughing together. “This is my father and I, taken when I was about six.” She watched Jim smile softly as his eyes grazed the photograph, himself reminded of his lost Sara. “He gave it to me, before I left to go to university,” Jim’s eyes widened, not too noticeably, as he mulled over the fact that she was highly educated. “I cherish it a lot, even now, because I needed that kind of reassurance back then. Maybe, your Jane could also use that sort of reassurance right now.” Y/N looked him in the eye, probably making sure he was truly taking in what she was saying. “She’s recently adopted, Chief, and probably eager to have cemented some good memories with you.”

Jim couldn’t fault the logic and he sent a genuinely grateful smile her way, “Thanks, Y/N.” Rubbing his short beard, Hop quickly flicked through his memories, searching for any instances where he may have been photographed together with ‘El’. He vaguely remembered that Joyce’s eldest was always carrying around a camera strung from his neck. Perhaps he had taken a picture or two, he’d have to ask him.

“You know, they sell some really nice frames next door, in that jewellery store. Very ornamental. Also, they have some really beautiful lockets, if you were interested in something like that, instead.” Y/N’s smile was so helpful and incredibly soft, and Jim Hopper truly realised how much he missed people like Y/N. Despite people being ever-so-slightly friendlier in smaller towns like Hawkins, it hadn’t been since his wife and Sara had Jim felt so understood – as well as cared for, in a way that stopped his thought process so suddenly.

The lumbering man made a very quick decision, not hesitating, “Would you want to go to dinner, sometime?” Hop knew a connection when he felt one, and he was not about to miss his chance at something so important. Call him a softie (and his deputies definitely would have) but he missed the feeling of being in love, and everything else that a true relationship had given him. He missed that companionship.

“I don’t know… It depends,” Y/N’s eyes were full of flirty-teasing, “Is the dinner to thank me for all my help today?”

“Only partly.”

Her grin shone at him, “Then I’d love to.”

TAGGED:

@iamwarrenspeace, @itsnotnormalteen, @stilesloverdaily

[yelenabelovasbxtch]

Panel Pt. 3

Florence Pugh X Female Reader

Hey everyone! I really had a fun time writing this chapter and already started the next! Ohhh boy the next one is gonna be exciting!

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Concept: You go to Comic-Con and attend a Florence Pugh panel. What happens after surprises you. Part 3/?

I hope you enjoy!

Word Cound: 1731

Tag List:

@jeyramarie @flosbelova @bridgecitybrad

You arrive there, waiting for them to open the doors when a man approaches you wearing a yellow jacket labelled “security”.

“Hello ma’am, is your name y/n y/l/n?” He askes.

“Uhh yes? Did I do something wrong?” You reply with a confused look on your face.

“No ma’am. I was just asked to let you in first to allow you any seat you would like.” He says.

“Oh...okay cool..thank you?” You say still seeming fairly confused.

You are assuming this has something to do with Florence because what else would it be. You follow the man through the doors to an empty room filled with seating. You feel almost a little awkward walking down the aisle alone with nobody else there. You pick a seat in the front row because well...why wouldn’t you? And just scroll through your phone for a little in anticipation of the panel starting soon. After about five minutes has passed, you hear the doors behind you open and people flood in filling the seats at an extremely fast pace.

The crowd begins to quiet down a little and you look up to see the host walking out on stage. He begins his introduction and then proceeds to announce the celebrities that would be up on stage today. He starts with announcing Elizabeth Olsen and Paul Bettany, to then Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan, followed by Scarlett Johansson, Rachel Weisz, David Harbour and finally Florence Pugh. When her name is announced and she walks out on stage you can feel butterflies in your stomach. She is waving one hand to all the fans while scanning the crowd looking for you. The two of you lock eyes and the biggest smile comes across her face.

The panel started and the actors are cracking up everyone in the room with behind-the-scenes stories of their respective shows and movies. About halfway through, your phone buzzes, you look down to see Florence texted you while she was on stage.

“Come to the side of the stage when we walk off at the end ;)”

A small grin creeps across your face when you see the winky face at the end of the text. You look up and see her looking at you and she gives you a small smile before looking away. You couldn’t help but wonder what she had planned, maybe she just wanted to say hi before leaving because today is her last day at the convention. Or maybe she wanted to grab a bite to eat together after the panel. Either way, you were feeling excited yet nervous because you still had about 30 minutes to go before you got to talk to her again.

Those 30 minutes dragged out to be about 45 but it felt like 10 hours had passed. Although you watch online interviews with these actors all the time and they fly by like nothing, the anticipation of meeting up with Flo after made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion. Everyone is saying their goodbyes and they begin to walk off stage, you immediately get up and start walking the opposite way of the crowd who was heading for the exits. You get close to the gate that separates the crowd from the celebrities when security stops you. As you are about to start explaining you hear a familiar accent scream out

“Oh no! My bad! She’s with me!! Let her through!”

The security guard opens the gate for you and you’re greeted with open arms, you go into hug Florence as she embraced you tightly.

“Ah, it’s so good to see you again love! Did you enjoy the show?” She asks.

“I did! It was honestly so surreal to see all of you out in front of me when I am usually watching you through my TV.” You reply.

“That’s great to hear. Well, I was just wondering if you would like to go out for a bite to eat with me and some friends?”

“Some friends? Y-yeah sure.”

“Wonderful! Want to walk back to the hotel with me so I can change and then we can head to the restaurant together too?” She asks.

“Yes for sure, sounds good, let’s go.”

The two of you walk back to your hotel and go up to Florence’s room.

“Alright love, I’ll only be a second, make yourself at home.” She says.

You sit down on the couch that is facing her room as she walks in to get changed. She closes the door behind her but not all the way. She starts talking loudly to you from her room while she is changing telling you about how much you are going to like her friends when you meet them. As she is talking to you, you are scrolling through Instagram. You start to respond and lift your head to look up in the direction of her room when you realize you could see her changing by the reflection in her mirror. You quickly stand up and walk over to the window as if you are looking out at the cars moving below.

“Sorry, what did you say I missed the end there,” she says as she is walking out into the living room and putting on her earrings.

“Oh- uh- just that I am looking forward to meeting them...your friends.” You say as you feel the red rushing to your cheeks.

“I think you’ll get along very well...as if you already know them all!” She says.

The two of you walk out of the hotel and get into a car waiting for you outside. The car takes you to a small pub about 15 minutes away. On the way, Florence explained that one of her friends knew the owner of the pub and he agreed to close it down for a couple of hours because of fans and paparazzi. The two of you jump out of the car and walk through the door when all of a sudden you hear her friends call over to her.

“Florence! So glad you finally showed up! Lizzie said we had to wait to order for you to show so get over here I am starving!” You hear a familiar voice say.

Holy crap was that Anthony Mackie!? You look up and your eyes widen more than they ever have before. You turn and look at Florence…

“Oh, so the “friends” you invited me out to lunch with are the Avengers?” You say quietly.

“Uhh yeah, I thought you would have guessed that?” She says with a chuckle. Florence thinks you look absolutely adorable all flustered and starstruck by everyone sitting at the table.

The two of you walk towards the table with you looking the most nervous you have ever been. At this point, you are just hoping your face isn’t all red.

“So, you’re the one that Florence hasn’t stopped talking about all morning?”

You look up to see Scarlett Johansson addressing you with one eyebrow raised.

“Uh aha yeah I guess, my name is y/n.” You reply.

“HI Y/N! IT IS REALLY GREAT TO MEET YOU AND I REALLY WOULD LOVE TO GET TO KNOW YOU BUT CAN WE ORDER FOOD BEFORE WE START THE SMALL TALK?” Sebastian announces with a smile.

You chuckle and take your seat in between Florence and Lizzie and across from Scarlett. Once everybody has ordered you start talking to Scarlett and Lizzie.

“So y/n, I hear the two of you had a fun time last night? Scarlett says with a smirk on her face.

You turn and look at Florence as her eyes widen and look right at her starring her down.

“Aha yeah, we had a great time actually! I wish it didn’t have to end but hopefully, we can do something like that again sometime soon.” You reply.

“How about tonight?” Lizzie asks. “But with us included too? I have had a very long week and I wouldn’t mind some girl time!”

Florence looks at you and says “You don’t have to if you don’t want to of course, but I would love to have you over again”.

“I would literally be crazy to turn that down.” You say.

They all laugh.

“Ok, it’s a date!” Scarlett responds.

You all get your food and continue to have what felt like the most amazing moment of your life, getting to talk with people you never thought you’d meet and share stories, and laughs. Florence generously pays for your meal and takes you back to the hotel afterwards.

“Well, that was the most amazing experience...ever!” You say with a big smile as you are hopping on the elevator.

“Aha, I am glad you had so much fun! I have to take a meeting with some people from work but I am looking forward to seeing you again later tonight.” She says.

“Me too, thanks so much again for lunch. Is there anything I can bring tonight?” You ask.

“Nothing at all! I will get someone to pick us up some food and drinks and bring them to my place.”

“Okay great! What time should I come down at?”

“The girls are coming around 6, why don’t you come a bit earlier?” Florence says with a wink.

“Sounds good. See you then!” you say as she is stepping off the elevator.

You are freaking out a little bit internally but realize quickly that you should probably go shower and change so that takes your mind off the fact that you are about to have the best night of your life.

-- end of pt. 3 --

[reidecorating]

L'amore Vero È Così (True Love is Like This)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader  

A/N: Woke up with a killer headache after celebrating the end of 2020 and thought writing something loosely based off events that took place on NYE would be a good cure. Hope this year’s been treating you all well!

Word Count: 4.3k

Summary: Summer nights and Spencer Reid make it hard for anyone to keep their hands to themselves. Add David Rossi’s holiday mansion and wine to the mix, and watch a dangerously hot fuse ignite

Warnings: Language (as in cursing AND me just completely butchering Italian), unprotected sex, penetrative sex

Masterlist

Maybe it was the Sauternes. Like a spark igniting along the fuse of dynamite, the sweet sting of white grape travelled down her throat, every sip exploding in kaleidoscopic vision and unfiltered words. Even so, it wasn’t the alcohol she was drunk on. No, not drunk - she wasn’t drunk - she was absolutely intoxicated. Not by anything of substance, but by an overwhelming desire for the man she had arrived with. 

Spencer Reid often felt out of place standing in any absurdly large entranceway, belonging to the old Italian with new money, recurrently settling for shifting from shoe to shoe, before taking a deep breath and pressing the doorbell with the hand unoccupied by a bottle he wouldn’t be drinking from. However, his sobriety was far from the cause of his imposter syndrome. Rather, it was the way he always arrived alone, while, what felt like, the rest of the team trickled in with their spouses or significant others. Whilst pairs would dance to vinyl sounds of Bowie, leaving little room for him and the odd number his presence formed in the abacus of the group, he would loiter in a corner, or, on occasion, entertain his godson with a pack of cards. More frequently, he would rattle off excuses about needing the restroom, only to spend his time exploring the corridors of a rather impressive house. A get together at David Rossi’s holiday home was uncommon, and the last time Spencer had wound up here, he found himself inspecting the tiny forgotten library the man housed, attempting to decipher the various foreign books residing on its mahogany shelves as he heard his friends stumbling their way through the Salsa downstairs. L'isola di Arturo, with sterling lettering on its ageing spine showing a familiar pen name, had quickly become his favourite. When he’d first translated the pages, he had chuckled at the parallels between himself and its disconsolate protagonist. However, after years of his ongoing solitude, and lonely arrivals to a castle full of people, he finally had someone on his arm. 

“Wait, what does this mean? I can make out the ‘amore’ but not much else,” That someone now squinted at the words his index finger underlined as he read her the words of that very book, aloud. “Hm?” He was visibly distracted by the Patchouli blend of orange and jasmine emanating from her skin as she leaned against his shoulder to read the page herself. “L'amore vero è così,” she whispered, unsure of the correct pronunciation but attempting it anyway. “Non ha nessuno scopo e nessuna ragione, e non si sottomette a nessun potere fuorché alla grazia umana,” she finished in a whisper, affecting Spencer in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Through fluttering eyelashes, she looked up at him, awaiting his rendition, and suddenly the temperature felt as if it had risen. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been here almost as many times as him; she knew her way around Rossi’s holiday home, but Spencer had insisted on showing her his favourite room, claiming she hadn’t seen it yet. Diverting her attention from Emily’s anecdotes, “I kind of want you all to myself for a little bit,” he whispered in a kiss on her shoulder, proceeding to take her hand and pull her away from chatter over a jug of Cuban rum and homemade pizza - making sure to dissect, in explanation, nearly every painting adorning the maze of hallways on their short trek. He cleared his throat, prying his gaze away from the skin her little black dress revealed, unabashedly scanning her lips before using his own to form words. “True love is like this,” he subtly eyed her reaction to his words as he tried hard to not transliterate the European language. “It has no purpose and no reason, and it does not submit to any power except human grace.” Spencer’s voice was a newly inked quill, ebbing and flowing through the hot air of the dimly lit room. The dark winged butterflies that had been floating around her stomach all evening fluttered in a frenzy at his words, and the way the chartreuse of his eyes had been absorbed by black as they laid on her. “For such a dark story, it’s so beautiful,” she exhaled in a hushed tone, stare not leaving his as he slowly slid the book into the hollow slot where it had previously inhabited, too occupied by reading her demeanour to pay the book any more attention. “You think so? The author, Morante, Elsa Morante, was actually considered the greatest writer of Italy’s postwar generation, at one point.” Spencer began to rest his weight against the wall as they conversed. “I feel as if we always hear about Bassani or Parise, and all the unorthodox things Landolfi wrote in the fifties. It’s very refreshing to hear of a woman getting some well deserved recognition in such a male dominated niche,” she remarked. A dimple appeared on Spencer’s cheek as he grinned at the way she sounded a lot like him. “Agreed. In fact, Morante actually claimed she wished she’d been born a boy, so that she could have all of these heroic adventures. Once, when she was asked about the hero of that book,” he pointed towards the worn copy of L'isola di Arturo, “she commented: ‘Arturo, c’est moi!’,” 

“Living vicariously through him? Interesting,” she tilted her head slightly, “I also think its remarkable how beauty can emerge from so much pain,” she mulled aloud. His eyebrows raised at her words and the flux in her tone of voice. Slowly, she stepped towards him, forearms resting on his shoulders, entangling behind him. 

Earlier, she’d had the privilege of styling him as he stood in front of their shared mirror, muttering complaints of how he had 'nothing to wear’. Now, she repeated maledictions to herself regarding the clothing she had chosen, in her head, as she admired the way his black shirt was rolled up at the sleeves - displaying intricate nerves shadowing his fingers and arms - and simultaneously unbuttoned temptingly low on his chest, exposing the silver chain presenting a small initial, hers. The summer night had made sure a thin veil of sweat coated his collarbones, glistening with his movements under the lamp light. “It’s not a surprising process though - I mean, after the year you’ve had, just look at how pretty you are,”

“Did you just-” he gulped, chuckling, “use the copious amounts of semi-resolved trauma I harbour to romance me?”

“I may have,” she whispered into the skin below his ear, both hands now tangled in his hair as he remained pressed up against the wall, grateful that every wound, fight and flaw had led them here. And she never ceased to make her gratitude known. Tonight, though, ever since she’d caught sight of his hand gripping a cold glass, the strong concoction presumably belonging to Luke, she hadn’t been able to stop envisioning his body on top of hers. Unbeknownst to her, his thoughts had been very similar from the second she’d chosen to wear the satin fabric, claiming it matched his shirt, while leaving very little to the imagination. “Y/N,” he spoke, his body involuntarily leaning into hers. “We can’t- Not now.” His body language betrayed his words. “I don’t study behaviour for a living, unlike everyone else here, but Spencer, right now, yours tells me we can,” she brought down a hand to squeeze his wrist, which was resting against her lower back. He couldn’t breathe. Tongue in cheek, he shook his head at her, a smirk breaking way. “You, my pretty lady, are something else,” he caved, switching their position in a more urgent manoeuvre than either of them anticipated. Spencer’s hands grasped her jaw, his breath fanning over her before his lips collided with hers, messily. A hand cradled the back of her head, heeding any impact with the wooden blockade behind her, fingers and hair tangling together. Her hands travelled along his body, pinky tugging on his necklace in pursuit of closeness, while her lips roamed around his bobbing Adam’s apple, eliciting an exquisite string of moans. Spencer’s leg wedged itself between hers, slowly grazing his thigh against her, using a firm grip to guide her hips downwards, her soft sighs and tugs at his roots only encouraging him. 

The euphoria was short lived. A rapping on the library door tore them apart, its hinges creaking and giving way to an astounded looking Penelope Garcia. “Naughty!” she factitiously gasped. “I didn’t think the good doctor and his fine missus had it in them, but I was very, very wrong,”

“We were just-“ Y/N began, only to be cut off by the tipsy agent. “Save the excuses, beautiful lady. I was simply quested to find you two, and let you know that the rest of us are off to take a dip in the spa. Bring your boy toy, and scrumptious self, and join us ASAP - oh! And no funny business! There are children here,” Penelope gestured her two fingers away from her spectacles and towards each of them as a silent threat of ‘I’m watching you’. Y/N and Spencer exchanged a look, both flushed in different shades of red, on their way to creating a colour wheel. As Penelope spun on her heels and rushed to shut the door behind her, “Thank you, Penelope!” Y/N squeaked, Spencer exclaiming a timid “And sorry!” The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, still frazzled. “I think I’m getting a little too comfortable with your team,” she grimaced, earning a laugh from the doctor. Later, as Spencer led her towards a bathroom, her arms occupied by a stack of towels, his hand on the small of her back, he dreaded the amount of self control he would need to invoke when the two of them would undress to change. 

What she had said wasn’t entirely untrue. She was indeed very comfortable with his team. If Spencer could have met himself, a year ago, anxious to introduce who he was sure was the love of his life to his dearest friends, he would flick himself in the head. She, not alarmingly, managed to get along with everyone, almost better than he did. Somehow managing to find common ground, even with Aaron Hotchner. He recalls, one night, months ago, listening to her and the usually stoic man debate about which broadway production was better: The Producers or The Phantom of the Opera. Spencer also recalls exactly how riled up he became as he watched her put the ex-theatric-gone-lawyer in his place after calling upon Spencer for some Tony Award statistics. Admittedly, he actively needed to combat the green eyed monster on his back whenever she would go jogging with Luke - but the way she kissed him before leaving, on her tiptoes in her running shoes, whispering ‘I love you’, and ‘I’m really only going for Roxy’, helped. She had become family, the invisible stamp of approval having been silently awarded when they all saw the looks the two of them shared, the three subtle squeezes in their woven hands, and the way Spencer now smiled with his teeth - the way they way they would move the moon and the earth for one another. 

Packed into the watery sauna, words exchanged between the group travelled into the atmosphere, a waxing gibbous eavesdropping overhead. She watched as Spencer squirmed across from her at the nearness to so many sweaty bodies, shoulders, elbows, knees and toes, belonging to anybody and everybody, poking him. Her eyes trailed along the dips and swells at the base of his neck, decorated in its usual, dainty, shimmering pendant, the bones there protruding as he slouched forward. Spencer’s hair was matted, condensation ironing chestnut ringlets to his forehead, complimenting his heated crimson cheeks. The butterflies returned, her stomach flipping as he ran his hand through the mop of curls to ease his discomfort. More of him - that was what she wanted. She hadn’t noticed, but she had been biting her lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Pulling her back from her thoughts, a heavy exhale travelled past her left ear, changing the course of the steam emerging from the water - a stream of air enough to deflate a person, she noticed. “I can’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” The blonde rested her head against the barrier of the tub, seeing bright patterns on her eyelids as they shut over her eyes momentarily. Y/N reached over and grasped one of her shoulders in a clinical manner. “Who are you, and what have you done with Jennifer and the gruelling tension in her neck and jaw?” She interrogated, lightheartedly. “What can I say? Stress is my middle name,” she chuckled. “While we’re on the topic, though... Maybe you could give me one of those trigger-point massages,” she opened one eye, an iris burning sapphire, the blue only rival to that of the one from The Tell Tale Heart, finding Y/N’s face. Retreating her hand, having made her point, she let out a laugh at JJ’s words, “I’m afraid that’ll cost y-” Y/N’s eyes widened at the familiar dialect of the words, a charlatan on JJ’s tongue. “Wait a minute, can you repeat what you just said, but slowly?” 

“Oh, I know you heard me perfectly clear,” JJ smirked at her, eyebrows raising as her eyes shifted between the flustered woman and Spencer. 

They had a friendship of unfamiliar closeness, which JJ cherished. After nights of babysitting turning into wining with Merlot and dining on flaming dreaded cheese puffs, stashed away in an airtight container, upon JJ’s arrival home, the two had grown close. The agent was grateful for conversation veering away from work, and for someone seeing her from a different lens; one through which she wasn’t fizzled down to a petrie dish of a mother through a workaholic microscope. Y/N was curious to know how her famous mandatory-Spencer-de-stressing-trigger-point massages had come up in conversation between JJ and her, now guilty looking, boyfriend. She crossed her fingers in hopes that he’d spared the details of the events that usually took place following the neck rubs - another kind of de-stressing altogether. “Do you guys hear that? I think Will’s calling me- and I should go put Henry to bed… It’s quite late…” she exaggerated, wearing a redolent expression as she slunk away with a towel around her cold frame. “We’ll talk later, Jareau,” she looked up at JJ, after the shivering woman squeezed her shoulders in a bid goodnight, waving to the small crowd. Swiftly, Y/N’s gaze met Spencer’s, her figure not having left his vision once. 

The yard and small pool was clearing out, save for Luke and Tara bickering in the corner, so, through the bubbling water, she waded in Spencer’s direction, noticing the way he was evidently mentally undressing her. As if by his telepathy, a thin strap of her bathing suit slipped from its place, causing the gears in Spencer’s head to stop turning as he swallowed thickly. “Hey handsome, long time no speak.” A soft smile graced his lips, adoration for her evident, in place of his muted response. Wordlessly, he slipped a finger beneath the strap, tentatively putting it back in place, refusing to break eye contact in some unspoken play for power. “What’re you up to?” She squinted, wondering exactly what his motives were. “Nothing much,” he pulled her closer by the waist, whispering in a gravelly voice only she could hear, “I’m just thinking about how you didn’t get the chance to finish what you started, earlier,”

“Are you implying that you want me to…” she floated onto his lap, hands draping around his neck to steady herself, “pick up where we left off?” The question left her mouth in a breathy whisper, straight into his ear. He turned to look at her, unblinking. “I’m implying, that I’ve had those pretty noises you make replaying in my head all night, and that I’d like to hear them again,”

“Remind me, doctor, which one of us said ‘we can’t’?,” she mocked his whine, rolling her eyes back. “I have a better suggestion, how about you remind me which one of us struggled to stand the last time we played this game?” The calmness of his voice was the antithesis of the fire she was feeling inside her. Satisfied with her speechlessness, his eyes drifted down her body as she pried herself off him, settling in the plastic indent of a hot tub seat to his side. The attention of the pair of lovers were drawn to Tara’s laughter as she stepped into a robe, calling it a night. “What’d we miss?” Spencer’s clueless innocence returned, as if the words he’d spoken before were now out of mind. Devilishly, Tara responded, “Oh, you know, just me completely destroying this man’s ego,”

“Doesn’t take much does it?” Y/N offered Tara her fist in solidarity. “No it does not,” Tara chuckled, bumping it with her own. “You guys do realise that I’m right here?” Luke scoffed, also drying himself off. “I think that adds to their point?” Spencer offered, pursing his lips, amused. “Well, I’m going to go and catch some sleep, and maybe even shed a few tears over what’s been said about me,” he playfully scowled at Tara walking away, throwing a middle finger at him through the air without looking back. “Trust me, they are very professional,” Spencer promised, turning towards his only remaining company in laughter. “I’m sure they are,” she joked returning a smile. 

The two of them talked beneath an ink sky, stars like pinpricks in a blanket twinkling through their conversation, until she found herself on Spencer’s lap, once again, the ambience shifting to something far more carnal. Throughout the night, like a band of elastic stretching between two fingers, the tension between them had heightened. Now, they both tested the limits, anticipating its snap. His chlorine skin tasted electric on her tongue as she painted his neck and chest with a lilac rendition of the silver initial dangling there, letting his sighs catch in the shells of her ears. Allowing her tongue to explore his mouth, his hands tightened around her waist. “Mhm, no, Y/N,” he spoke, regaining his fleeting conscience. “This,” — kiss — “is a bad,” — kiss — “idea,”

“Spencer, look,” she glanced over at the house, and his eyes followed suite, craning his neck slightly. “What do you see?” She asked. “Aside from a house bigger than my entire apartment complex?” Her face was a deadpan. “All the lights are out, Spencer,” she gave him a look that said, come on, profiler, figure it out. Not a single connection formed in his head as he stared at the way the luminous blue of the night time water cast ripples on her skin - skin which was all over his. “All the lights are out… It’s late… and everyone’s asleep,” he reasoned, more to himself than in response to her insinuation. “We have no real chance of getting caught, plus…” her dark eyes were obscured by the eyelashes sheltering them as she tilted her head. “Would it be so bad if we did?” Two of her fingers danced along his chest, walking towards the damp hair at the nape of his neck, using the strands to pull him closer. “Everyone knowing exactly how good you make me feel?” She purred the last part in his ear, tugging at the cartilage with her teeth. Spencer partially whimpered. “Don’t hold back, gorgeous boy. You sound as good as you taste.” His eyes shut as his head hit the rim of the spa - only briefly losing himself once her mouth was on him again. “Someone’s talking like they’re in charge,” he tilted her chin up towards him, forcing her eyes onto his own. “I seem to be the one doing all the work here,” she teased. He kissed each of her collarbones, eyes still trained on hers. “You shouldn’t speak so soon.” With that, he undid the top of her swim suit, exposing her chest to the frigid night air, compelling a gasp. “Truthfully, I’ve been thinking about doing this a majority of the night.” The bass in his voice reached her core. “For someone who is so fastidious about cleanliness, you sure have a dirty, dirty mind, doct-” She never had the chance to finish the honorific, his lips moulding around a hardening nipple, allowing his fingers to toy with the other. Rolling his tongue around the bud, he smiled to himself as he heard her call out his name, over and over, as if her voice was coming through a scratched vinyl. “Where’s all the talk from before?”

“You’re evil,” she groaned, her hips bucking against his board short clad body. 

Spencers lips travelled along the valley of her breasts, only to hike back up them at a tantalising pace, prehensile fingers covering the ground his mouth couldn’t. Her hands grasped so tight in his hair, he was sure the strands would fall out. A groan of his own left vibrations reverberating through her body, causing her heart to jump. “Alright, you’ve had your fun,” he gnarred, as his hands gripped her wrists, holding them behind her back. With his unoccupied hand, he dipped his fingers into what was left of her apparel. “Is this all for me?” He smirked at the ease with which his fingers slipped over her. “Don’t flatter yourself, we’re in water,”

“You’re so impolite - even when I’m spoiling you,” tutted Spencer. Retroceding his hand, determined to leave her on edge, and her skin a mirror image of his, he continued to pin her fragile hands back against the base of her spine. “S-Spencer, please,” her words struggled to make any sense, “please, I need more,” she panted out, moving purposefully along the growing outline in his shorts. The pleasure was overwhelming. Spencer fiddled with the material still covering her, pulling it aside to make way for himself in between her legs. His eyes softened, silently seeking permission, even as she impatiently pulled down his waistband. When she nodded and eased his ailing with a soft, lingering kiss, he slowly pushed himself into her, never failing to be acutely attentive to her comfort as if it was their first time together. “This was what you were after?” Teased Spencer, his hips speeding up. “So badly,” she uttered out a sigh. “Then take it like you want it.” She craved his adept touch, and she made that known. “S- Spencer, oh god,” she groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” His breathing became heavier, softs grunts and hisses filling her ears with every movement. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whining in a destitute way at the full feeling. At a slower pace, one of Spencer’s hands guided her hips along himself, while the other traced infinity on her sensitive nerves. “Sweet girl- fuck, you feel like a dream,” he moaned as she tightened around him. Her toes curled, the warm water of the pool splashing her bare skin. Spencer occupied all of her senses, the same way she did his. “I’m so close,” she whimpered, before he used his nose to nudge her face upwards, her momentarily open eyes reflecting constellations. Spencer kissed her once more. Her hands long freed from his grip, she left traces of herself in the form of tiny red sickles on his freckled back as her nails released some frustration. 

Dragging her fingers along his torso, she felt the muscles of his stomach tighten, hers doing the same. Shaky sighs wavered from her lips at the bliss Spencer was providing. “Keep your eyes open for me, angel,” she tried her hardest to focus on his lustfully blown pupils. “That’s it. Just look at what you do to me,” he gasped out, head falling backwards, eye contact broken - only for a second - before he gulped and looked back at her. “You’re breathtaking,” she whispered, hoarsely, stroking his sweaty cheekbone with her thumb.  She could recognise the golden gates of heaven in his eyes as he came undone inside her, warmth spilling over her in every aspect. The knots in her stomach loosened shortly after his, curses spilling from both of them. She rode him through his release, fond of the way he left light kisses on her temple, whispering compliments and confessions of love. Once he was sure she’d caught her breath, and some air had returned to his own lungs, he kissed her, gently, in the summer sauna heat, beneath the stars.

A loud cough startled the two. Stood in the open French doors of the veranda, scotch in hand, and eyes screwed shut, was David Rossi. Their minds were in the same place, wondering why they hadn't listened to Penelope’s drunken advice. “When you two are done, please remember to turn the tub lights off - and put the filter on high.” She hid herself in Spencer’s chest, heartbeat in her ears, contemplating holding her breath for a really, really long time. Spencer was flushed red, his own nose buried in her neck so as to not face the older man. “Or better yet, put some money together to buy me an entirely new spa,” Rossi, laughed, opening one eye to catch sight of Spencer giving him a shameful thumbs up. Even as Rossi wandered away, their embarrassment remained a fresh burn. Spencer groaned as her tired hand fumbled with his disastrous hair, “I don’t even want to begin thinking about how much of that he heard,”

“Or saw,”

“Don’t!”

“I’m never going to be invited here ever again, am I?”

[missaudreyhorney]

(Almost) Every Idea Ever

Although I rarely ever finish writing a fic, that never stops me from getting new ideas for them. Terrible, horrible, dumpster fire ideas. Okay, some of them are wholesome on occasion, but mostly it’s just filth. I've excluded a couple of things because either they were just too awful to mention or I’m currently working on them and I want it to be a surprise.

The first story I started to write this year was original fiction but with the main male character heavily inspired by Jim Hopper. It was about a recently married young woman having an affair with her father-in-law. This really set a precedent for the rest of my ideas and should indicate to you the level of depravity on this list.

Hopper x Reader:

Hurts So Good series - In 1982, Reader is Mayor Kline’s daughter and has a crush on Chief Hopper. She decides to pursue him and things don’t go quite as planned but they still end up having steamy, rough sex. A secret affair begins between the two of them but it eventually leads to heartbreak. Heavy emphasis on Dom/sub and pain kink. - Initial pursuit, fingering in the car, sex (60%) - Phone sex the following day (70%) - Rough sex, bordering on consensual nonconsent (partially written) - Introduction to Daddy kink (notes) - Body worship (notes) - Bruise kink (notes) - Facesitting (50%) - hurt/comfort throatfucking, an argument, angst/fluff (75%) - Orgasm denial/control (70%) - Possible gunplay? (Unwritten) - Disciplinary spanking (notes)

Dress You Up series - In 1985, Hopper meets plus-size!Reader at JCPenney when he comes in to pick out a shirt for his date. After Joyce stands him up, he decides to come back and ask Reader out instead. Probably the cutest idea I’ve ever had for smut. Inspired by flamehairedwritings and flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. - 1st meeting, 2nd meeting, date, sex (50%) - 2nd date, a continuation of My First Drabble (partially written) - Meeting El and she’s standoffish (notes)

Domestic Smut - Reader and husband!Hopper are at the cabin alone together one weekend. After breakfast, she tries to wash the dishes but the sink is broken, the water squirting everywhere. A water fight turns into a tickle fight which turns into kitchen table sex. (50%)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during sex at the cabin (Notes)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during a blowjob in his office at the police station (Minimal notes)

Hopper rubbing a popsicle on Reader’s body then licking it off (Minimal notes)

Hopper coming over to Reader’s house, unannounced, late at night, in the rain, for a quick rough fuck. Inspired by one of the pictures from the Playboy shoot. (Partially written)

Licking Hopper’s hand and arm veins to get his attention while he reads the Sunday newspaper. (Unwritten)

Sucking Hopper’s cock while he smokes a cigar on the porch and either ignores you or looks at you with disdain. Inspired by a compilation video of David smoking a cigar on Instagram Live. (Unwritten)

Consensual nonconsent fantasy where Hopper touches Reader and tells her to say no to him while he’s making her cum. Rough, forceful sex immediately follows. (Partially written)

Bootlicker - anti-cop Reader has a secret fetish for cops and Hopper is more than happy to oblige them and keep quiet about it. (Notes)

Working out my own personal issues via smut, bigender-questioning AFAB Reader puts on Hopper’s uniform shirt and hat. Much to their delight, he says they look like a boy. He also says “If you’re going to dress like a boy, I’m going to fuck you like one.” Basically just incredible anal sex while Hopper calls Reader a good boy. Extremely niche subject but the fantasy of this is so affirming to me, I can’t not think about it. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader requests

A sequel to Little Magnum where the dog is a few years older. There is maybe also a cat? (Unwritten)

Fire & Ice - Reader is playing in the snow when it’s getting dark outside. Hopper tells them to come in but they don’t listen. Reader falls and hurts their ankle then Hopper gets angry at their disobedience. Not because he’s a jerk, but because he can’t imagine his life without Reader and doesn’t want to lose them. Angsty hurt/comfort. (~70%)

Replacement idea since Fire & Ice was much too angsty - Reader gets stung by a bee and Hopper freaks out. Reader is fine but he babies them nonetheless, because again, his greatest fear is losing them. Very cute and silly. (unwritten)

Freezeframe - Reader bought Hopper a Polaroid camera for his birthday and he hasn’t used it months later. Taking matters into her own hands, she uses the camera for some naughty selfies. Once Hopper finds the pictures, he decides to assume the role of photographer and gets some very intimate shots of Reader. (80-85%)

Morning Wood - Reader lets themself into the cabin early one Summer morning and sees Hopper in bed, fully nude, just a sheet covering the part they want to see most. Hop wakes up, invites Reader into bed with him, and a blowjob ensues. Very detailed description of his body. (Notes)

Hopper gets injured and needs Reader to patch him up. She gets pissed though for him being in yet another dangerous situation where he yet again gets hurt. Reader reprimanding him leads to confessions of feelings which leads to sex. (Unwritten)

Reader has been feeling ignored by Hopper lately and decides to make him jealous to get his attention. She flirts with another man at a bar while Hopper watches and seethes with rage. He punishes her by dragging her into the parking lot then spanking over the tailgate of his Chevy Blazer. Rough sex and more spanking goes down back at the cabin. Based on my jealous!Hopper headcanon post. (Partially written)

Principal Hopper  - One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, which is saying A LOT. High school principal Hopper catches one of his 18-year-old female students spying on him between classes and confronts her about it. Sexual tension bubbles up until neither of them can control themselves. Based on a fantasy told to me by a friend who I will not name. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader AUs

Messing Around With Jim series - A continuation of The Big Game, Afterschool Special, and Third Time’s A Charm. Modern!Hopper and Reader having all kinds of sex. - Fingering, gentle sex, tender orgasm control (50%) - Period sex, vibrator (Notes) - First blowjob, a continuation of A Sampling (partially written) - Hop eating Reader’s pussy for his birthday (minimal notes) - Fingering in the car, truck bed sex (notes) - Another blowjob, rough sex over the hood of a car (partially written) - Pussy eating at the park (notes) - Hop not understanding FaceTime, fluff, smut (unwritten) - Roleplaying how they met, sex at Reader’s parents house (notes) - July 4th fingering, rough sex, surprises (notes) - Remote control vibrator (partially written) - More pussy eating, this time in Hop’s cutting edge shirt (partially written) - Yet another blowjob, this time in a movie theater (unwritten) - Jealousy resulting in overstimulation/”forced” orgasms (notes) - 4 part miniseries about butt plugs/anal sex (notes) - Confronting her parents, angst (55-60%) - Learning about Sara, ANGST! (notes)

Vacation series - modem!Hopper and Reader go on vacation together. That’s it, that’s the plot. Idea from David’s Croatian vacation pics and conversations with Tayler. All just notes at this point. - Christening the hotel bed - Bratty Reader getting semi-publicly punished - Hopper taking care of drunk!Reader, humor, fluff - Double date

carpenter!Hopper - Reader is recently divorced and hires Hop to make repairs on her house before she sells it. Graphic detail of him doing manly things like sawing and hammering. Porn with plot. Inspired by another friend, she knows who she is. (Notes in the form of a 500-word summary)

Detective Hopper - various bits and pieces of ideas inspired by David being digitally handcuffed to Darren Criss and Michael Stuhlbarg in Vanity Fair, plus a few pictures in 2016. (Unwritten)

Captain Hopper - a collaboration with @pkg4mumtown. She said she was thinking about fire captain!Hopper rescuing her from a burning building and I told her my pre-existing firefighter idea of being saved and then wanting to thank him in a variety of ways. Things snowballed from there and I decided we need to write it. Mostly just notes so far. - Initial meeting, first date, sex - Second date, making dinner together, sex

Hopper x Joyce:

There is a list of my Jopper ideas (Various degrees of notes)

Teenage Joyce and Hopper meeting in high school and their relationship that follows. Maybe a oneshot? Maybe a series? (Notes)

Hopper x Billy: (Over 18-years-old and no longer in high school!)

1940/50’s AU - Hopper meets expat Billy at a cigar club while on vacation in Havana. A familiar face, so to speak, in a foreign land. Hop pays Billy to take him back to his apartment and “keep him company”. Maybe two chapters? Inspired by a photo of Dacre Montgomery in GQ Germany. (Partially written.)

Hopper catches Billy “renting his time” at a truck stop outside of town and threatens to arrest him, but Billy bribes him with sex. (Unwritten.) I’m sorry but there’s just something about the idea of rent boy Billy that I absolutely love.

Hopper + Billy + Reader - completely implausible threeway (Unwritten)

David Harbour RPF:

AU where instead of being an actor, he’s a drama teacher at a high school in New York City and the kids from Stranger Things are his students. Pure fluff. (Please write this for me!)

Giving him a blow job before an important event. TWO different versions. Inspired by numerous photos of David wearing a robe. (Minimal notes)

Riding his thigh and everything that entails. Inspired by a picture of David from GQ Mexico. (Minimal notes)

touch-starved!David hires a sexworker during the pandemic because he’s lonely quarantining by himself. No sex. He literally just wants a hug and someone to be affectionate with him. Unconventional fluff. (Unwritten)

Other DKH-related shenanigans:

Let’s Ride sequel - Reader goes on a second date with Deacon from SoulCycle, they go out for sashimi and end up at his place. He has a cat that he inherited from a neighbor. Reader teaches him how to put her in a chokehold. (Unwritten)

Alexei Shostakov smut - some type of Bond Girl situation where Reader has to seduce him. Just an excuse for me to lovingly describe his large tattooed body in vivid detail. (Unwritten)

The Stranger - Reader has an ongoing affair with a mysterious man whose name is never mentioned. They meet at high society functions and hook up in fancy hotels. One night, he finds out that she’s married and punishes her for her dishonesty. Inspired by a photo of David looking annoyed in a tuxedo. (Notes)

Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay fantasy. Sweet, smutty, and slightly taboo. (Notes)

Daddy’s Little...Helper - Me, as submissive!Reader, watching Daddy jack off right in front of my face after he comes home from work. Based on a conversation with an Instagram friend and a picture of David in the play “Cal In Camo” where he’s holding a beer bottle between his legs. (65%)

Stranger Things x Twin Peaks crossover - Chief Jim Hopper comes to Twin Peaks to help Special Agent Dale Cooper solve some type of paranormal mystery. Perhaps a parallel between The Black Lodge and The Upside Down? I think this would work really really well, but I can’t write it myself. (Please write this for me!)

In conclusion: Yes, I know I need to have my head examined. Yes, I know I spend too much time thinking about Jim Hopper. Let me know if you LIKE these ideas. Please do not let me know if you hate these ideas.

Tagging: @manawhaat @strangest-hour @007swhore @kingphillipblake @david-harbour-arg @misshawkins1993 @oxforddrama 

[1980s-robin]

listen to your heart

pairing: chief jim hopper x fem!reader

fandom: stranger things

requested: yes

a/n: this was requested as a female reader, so i wrote it as such. also this IS an age gap fic, but that does not mean i support giant age gaps in real life this is just for the purpose of fiction. also this is sort of an au, i don’t know how long he was in Hawkins nor do we know his age, for this story he’s the same age as david harbour, which makes him fourty-four. also, i’m back !

summary: the reader has always been a relatively quiet girl, but she falls in with the wrong crowds with people around her age. hopper liked her for her maturity and kindness, but he just can’t figure out why she’s a different person when she’s around her peers. 

warnings: 15 year age gap, some angst, some anxiety 

word count: 1.5k words

The day that you met Chief Jim Hopper was on your twenty-third birthday, you were about to finish college and you decided that you were going to work for the police. You had always wanted to make a difference in Hawkins, you didn’t know why since it was a smaller town, but when you were younger you always felt safer if you were closer to a police station at night so you decided that you wanted to be someone who worked there and gave other people that sense of security. 

When you met Hopper, he seemed to be irritated by everything, he didn’t even notice that you were in the station and when they left you to meet Hopper and be assigned a job by him. You were quiet, you minded your own business, but you still had this hidden sort of sassiness that Hopper was able to see. After a week of working there, he took a liking to you, and seemed a bit less rude to you than he was to everyone else in the early morning and right before his shift ended.

As time progressed, you developed a sort of friendship with Hopper, however nothing much happened. He always remembered that he had met you when you turned twenty-three, and while you were an adult he just thought you were too young for anything to go further. Everything had changed on your twenty-ninth birthday, though. It was six years after you both had met, to the day, and he decided it would be okay for the office to send you out to investigate something small, only for you to come back to a surprise party. It wasn’t his idea, but he had no problem with the other officers throwing you a party since you had all known each other for a few years. When you got back to the station, you were met with streamers and balloons, nothing short of alcohol. After a few hours, you and Hopper were alone in the station, and both of you had been drinking quite a bit. You ended up confessing your feelings, and he cut it short and went home, only to confess he felt the same a week later.

Now, the two of you have been together for a year and Hopper seemed pretty happy. But lately, you’ve been acting a bit different, you recently met an old friend from high school and the two of you decided to catch up on what’s been going on with you both since graduation, which led to you hanging around a new crowd. At first, there was nothing wrong with your new friends, but then they started being a little more reckless, and you started being a little more insecure about your relationship with Hopper which is what caused you to do the reckless things with your friends.

Thing is, you loved Jim even if neither of you had shared that little fact with each other verbally, but people didn’t like that there was a good fifteen years of age between the two of you. While he wasn’t old enough to be your father, probably, people still thought it was too big of an age gap and had a problem with it. Some people were completely okay with what was going on with you two, especially since it seemed like you were actually opening Hopper up in some way. But some people frowned down upon it, they shook their heads and whispered when either of you walked by even if it was separately. You were beyond glad to be with Hopper, but you felt insecure about the things people said about the two of you and your relationship. 

You took this out by doing things like breaking into abandoned places, telling them secret things to help them commit crimes without alerting the police, everything. You were doing utterly stupid things, and at this point, if Hopper didn’t do something he was an accessory to the crimes you were committing. It’s not like you were doing anything hurtful or really bad, but you were still committing crimes and it was still a problem, especially since you worked at the police station.

Which is what led to where you were at this moment, sitting on the couch of Hopper’s cabin, which you practically lived at since you were almost always in his cabin and not in your own house, with Hopper sitting across from you while you fidgeted nervously. He knew you knew he knew what you had been doing. And you knew he was going to say something about it. 

“Why?” He asked, simply, his gaze heavily faced in your direction. “Why, what?” You asked, playing dumb, but you knew the answer. “Why are you hanging around with people who are bad for you?” He questioned and you sighed, “I- I don’t know they’re just people from school we’re catching up after twelve years.” You tried, but he shook his head. “That’s not it, Why?” He questioned you again, and you knew there was no avoiding what you didn’t want him to know about. 

“I hear them talk, Hop. I know everyone in this town doesn’t think I’m good enough for you.” You muttered, facing everywhere but at him. “Excuse me?” He asked, and he honestly seemed rather offended by what you were saying. “People fucking talk about us like there’s something wrong with our relationship like I’m not good enough like I’m a child even though I’m thirty years old. You can’t tell me you haven’t heard it.” As you finished your explanation, you finally glanced at Hopper and he just looked like he didn’t know what do say.

“So you don’t want to be with me anymore, because if I’m the reason why you’re feeling terrible then we can-” “No! No, Hopper, I don’t want to not be with you but I just… I don’t feel like it… I’m not- I’m not good enough and you know it.” There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Hopper moved over to sit next to you on the couch. You glanced up at him only to feel his hand wrap around yours, you reciprocating and tangling your fingers with his.

“You can’t let them bother you, (Y/N). So what if some dick treats you like you’re a little girl, you’re not, you’re a grown woman.” His declaration was sloppy and awkward, but the fact that he tried to say anything to you was more than enough to convey his point. “I know I just… I get so afraid of people’s opinions I- I shouldn’t have let them impact me. I love you, and that’s all that matters.” It wasn’t until you had finished speaking that you realized you had just told Hopper that you loved him and that neither of you had said that to each other yet. You didn’t dare look up at him as you felt your face heat up and your head get fuzzy. Not like you were going to pass out but like you wanted to undo the mistake that you had just made.

There was silence before you felt Hopper’s free hand move to your chin to tilt it upwards so you were forced to look at him. The second your eyes met he quickly pressed his lips to yours, you easily kissing him back as your free hand tangled in his hair. The kiss lasted for a few moments, long enough for the two of you to need to break before you really needed air, your foreheads pressed against each other as you looked at each other in silence for a moment before you finally broke it. “I love you too.” He mumbled back, almost like he was afraid to say it, and you knew why. He had been through so much, had lost so much, he probably was afraid to tell someone that he loved them.  “Fuck what other people have to say.” He said, a bit louder than his last statement to which you quickly grinned. “Fuck ‘em.” You agreed, pulling him into another kiss before you leaned into the couch, Hopper wrapping an arm around you so you could lay your head in his lap.

As you fell asleep, calmed by him being around you and running his fingers through your hair, you knew you made the right choice. After that day, you told your old friends that you couldn’t help them anymore, that you had a duty as a sheriff’s deputy to abide by the law. Some of them understood and continued to speak with you, but some of the others didn’t. You knew you had love in other friends, in Hopper, and you didn’t need to be around people who were making you do things that just weren’t you. 

You did ignore what other people had to say about you because it wasn’t their business if you were younger than Hopper. They didn’t understand your relationship and most of them didn’t even know anything about you to begin with. A week later he actually asked you to move in with him, since you practically did anyway, and you happily agreed, moving what was left at your home to his and placing your house on the market. Sometimes you just have to listen to your heart, and that’s exactly what you did.

[pkg4mumtown]

Welcome to Hawkins PD (Ch. 1)

AN: Finally got far enough along in writing to post the beginning. First Hopper fic so...yea...let me know what you think so far.

Warnings: smoking, cursing, y’know normal Hopper stuff, Female Reader

Summary: You’re a new officer being assigned to Hawkins without being warned of the attractive but grumpy Chief.

Title: The New Kid

Chapter 1 of ?

Chief Hopper slammed the door of his Blazer shut, squinting at brightness of the sun he had underestimated. He set his wide-brimmed hat firmly on his head and slid aviators on his face, all while never dropping the lit cigarette hanging from his lips. He strode over to a white-haired, stocky man who stood just inside the open gates of the Indiana Law Enforcement Academy. The older man gave Hopper a pointed look as he strode through the parking lot.

“C'mon, Hop, no squares on academy grounds,” the man sighed. He wore a tan uniform and wide brimmed drill instructor cover on his head, like the other instructors at the academy

Hopper grimaced around the cigarette, pulling it from his lips and flicking it off to the side, “I’ll pick it up when I leave, Cap.”

The white-haired man shook his head and laughed softly, leading Hopper inside the confines of the academy, “Haven’t been a Captain in years.”

“Bridge, you’ll always be ‘Captain’ to me,” Hopper slapped Bridge on the back. “What do they have you doin’ now?”

“Basic Training Commander,” Bridge winked and tipped his hat.

“Look at you,” Hopper chuckled and shoved Bridge’s shoulder.

They walked in silence for a minute before Hopper finally spoke up, “So, why’d you call me here? I’m betting it wasn’t just to catch up,” Hopper looked over at the shorter man, who sighed.

“Hop…” Bridge started, “…the director, deputy director, and myself have decided to attach another officer to your station.”

Hopper stopped walking all together, giving the man an incredulous glare, “Excuse me?”

“Look, after the lab and Byers fiasco, you’re lucky we're not adding ten times that. It was a shit show and the media were hounding us as to why Hawkins has only six officers, three of which never seem to leave the office,” Bridge stressed. “We had the Roane County Sheriff’s patrolling the town for you and your boys, just to keep the citizens at bay, while you were doing fuck knows what, Jim.”

“While I was fixing the problem,” Hopper growled. “You have no idea what was going on!”

“Why don’t you enlighten me?” Bridge challenged with raised eyebrows.

Hopper ignored him and kept walking with no direction, “And anyway, the lab is empty now.”

“The ratio is still six to thirty thousand people, man. Detroit's ratio is one to four hundred.”

“Detroit is also the ‘Murder Capital’, is it not?” Hopper huffed. “Why’d you call me here, then? You could have told me this over the phone, so I could at least throw something after I hung up on you!” he raised his voice slightly, itching to pull out another cigarette.

Bridge smirked and tilted his head up, indicating Jim to follow him. The sound of gunfire grew louder with every step, telling Hopper that they were heading to the range.

“Thought you might want to check out who we’re assigning to you,” Bridge said as they finally came to a stop.

Below them stood about twenty recruits in unmarked tan uniforms with black ties, which would change according to their departments after they graduated.

“That one,” Bridge pointed to the recruit on the far left, a moderately tall woman with her hair pulled back into a bun. With her strong shoulders and stern expression, she definitely looked like she could hold her own amongst the males in the class.

Hopper tilted his glasses down and scrunched his nose at the brightness, “The girl?”

“Jesus Christ, Hop,” Bridge sighed.

“It was a question!” Hopper retorted back, huffing at Bridge's insinuation.

Bridge rolled his eyes and nodded, “Yea, the female recruit.”

At that moment, one of the drill instructors shouted a nearly indistinct command. It was unintelligible to Hopper’s ears, yet all the recruits responded immediately by clutching their right hands to their chests. Hopper watched, intrigued, as they fired the last of their rounds single handedly. His gaze swept over all the recruits and their targets before focusing back on the female as she shoved the barrel of the revolver between her duty belt and her trousers. Hopper’s expression turned impressed as he peeked over his sunglasses while she flicked open a pouch, retrieved a speed loader, and reloaded before shooting again.

“When did you guys start grading one-armed reloads?” Hopper wondered.

“When we finally got speed loaders that weren’t shit,” Bridge chuckled and shrugged. “Better to make it mandatory so they don’t fumble later.”

Hopper stuck around for a while, to make his trip worthwhile. He watched from a shaded area with Bridge as they started a defensive tactics lesson, always keeping his eye on the girl. He eyed her and a male recruit curiously as they circled one another in a scrimmage. The male was aggressive and lunging in order for her to practice a specific maneuver, which she did fairly well after deflecting some of his hits. The ferocity in which she fought back made Hopper curse under his breath in admiration.

“So, what d'ya think, Hop?”

“Why her?”

Bridge groaned, “Hop…I thought you were better than this!”

“Better than what? I’m just asking why her specifically!” he raised his voice in irritation.

“Because she’s a woman?” Bridge retorted and raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, man, because she actually has skill. Like the Sheriff’s or Trooper material, not for some boring town like Hawkins. I’m just…” Hopper sighed, “I don’t know, it feels like a waste of resources plus she'd be bored off her ass.”

“We don’t decide their departments, Hop, she chose local police over Staties,” Bridge pursed his lips and chuckled to himself.

“What?”

“Maybe she’ll kick your boys into gear. Lord knows, your station could use some energy.”

Hopper just rolled his eyes as the dig.

“Her station request, though, was anywhere but her hometown and we were already planning to add another officer to your station anyway,” Bridge revealed.

“Hmm,” Hopper grunted, “bad family relationship?

“Probably a question for her, not me.”

-

I shrugged on my heavy, oversized, black duffle bag and picked up my equally oversized briefcase before leaving my sleeping quarters for the last time. With my free hand, I pushed my aviators, a graduation gift from my best friend, up the bridge of my nose. Said friend had already departed the premises after the graduation since it was a bit of a drive back to our hometown.

The academy grounds were a sea of uniforms from local police to Sheriff’s deputies to Staties, with various shades of blue and tan. My uniform, however, was the only blue one with a “Hawkins Police Dept.” patch. I didn’t know whether to be disappointed or excited when I found out, since the town had a reputation of being quiet, save for the couple occurrences over the last two years.

I made my way back near the front of the Academy, pushing through the sea of people still lingering while they congratulated the new officers. I peered over people’s shoulders, looking for the exit and finally seeing the open gate. I spied the bus stop just beyond it and stepped into the parking lot, only to be stopped when I heard my name called.

“Y/L/N!”

I snapped my head to the left, seeing Commander Bridge leaning against a Blazer with another tall officer. He waved me over with his hand and said something to the officer. I glanced at the side of the Blazer, my eyes widening when I saw “Chief” in bold print followed by “Hawkins Police Dept.” Not an officer, then.

I stood straighter as I approached my new boss. His all tan uniform was almost form fitting his large frame, while a wide-brimmed hat adorned his head. As I approached, he took his sunglasses off and hung them on his shirt, revealing impossibly bright blue eyes. I let my eyes trail up his form, lingering on his lips pulling in as he took a drag from the cigarette in his mouth.

“Officer Y/L/N, this is your new boss,” Bridge motioned with a wave of his hand.

“Chief Hopper,” the man stuck his hand out. I couldn’t help but rake my eyes over the dark blonde beard adorning his cheeks and framing his lips.

I quickly dropped my briefcase to the ground and stuck my hand out as well, “Officer Y/L/N, sir.”

“Yea,” Hopper chuckled and pointed his thumb at Bridge, “he said that. You can tone it down. Relax, you graduated.”

“Sorry, sir,” I apologized for no reason and paused. “Why are you here?”

“Bridge told me you dormed. Figured you might need a ride into town,” Hopper shrugged.

“Oh, well, you didn’t have to do that. I can take the bus, sir,” I gulped. An hour drive with my new, very attractive, boss? No, thanks.

“Well, I’m already here,” Hopper grunted out a sigh and grabbed my briefcase off the floor.

“Sir, no, I can—” I tried to stop him.

“For the love of God, Y/L/N, take a load off,” Hopper responded, almost annoyed with my behavior. He circled around to the back of the Blazer, “Any family you still have to say ‘bye’ to?”

“No, they didn’t quite approve of my career choice,” I murmured.

Hopper simply grunted as he opened the back hatch of the Blazer and tossed the briefcase not-so-gently in the bed. I shrugged my bag off and did the same, nearly jumping when he slammed it shut.

I turned back to Commander Bridge, offering him a smile and shaking his hand, “Thank you for everything, sir.”

Bridge laughed lowly and shook his head, reciprocating the handshake before slapping my shoulder, “Good luck, kid.”

I nodded and jumped into the passenger side of the Blazer, seeing the two men exchange goodbyes like old pals in the passenger mirror. I shook my leg nervously as the Chief rounded the Blazer and jumped in with a heavy sigh.

An hour drive and I’d already managed to annoy the shit out of him before the trip even started. Great.

Chapter 2

[flamehairedwritings]

Chief

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 256

Rating: M, 16+ only

A/N: For Hallowe’en Prompts 2018! Thank you so, so much to the anons who requested:

‘ok idk if this is like a drabble or oneshot or what but can you do like hopper's girl gets a sexy police costume for halloween, complete with his hat and he just f*****g dies.’

and

‘Halloween/costume party with Hopper please!’

MASTERLIST

Please don’t copy, steal or repost my work; credit does not count.

“Baby, we’re gonna be late.”

“I know, I know, two seconds, I’m coming. Why are you so concerned, anyway, I thought you were dreading tonight?”

“I am. It’s just if we go now I can get us a good place to park so we can make a quick escape,” Hopper calls back as he spins his keys around in his hand.

“You’re terrible.”

“I’m efficient.”

He smiles to himself as he hears you snort, leaning his shoulder against the front door. The seconds tick by and he can still hear you rattling around in drawers in the bedroom, muttering to yourself.

“Baby...”

“Yes, Hopper, two seconds.”

“What’s takin’ you so damn long anyway, you said you were just gonna wear somethin’ simple—”

He breaks off, his lips remaining parted, as you finally open the bedroom door and emerge.

You’re wearing brown, tight shorts, brown thigh-high boots, a beige blouse tucked in to the shorts with a few buttons undone, and on your head is a brown hat. His brown hat.

“Jesus Christ...” he breathes, his eyes roaming over you. .

“Worth the wait, officer?” you purr as you tip your head to one side and place your hands on your hips, a coy smile playing at your lips

“Yes,” he groans, tearing the cowboy hat from his head as he advances towards you. “Yes you certainly are, Chief.”

You know for a fact, as he pulls you into his arms and claims your lips, there’s no way he’s going to get a good parking spot tonight.

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future work!

Tagged: @persephone-divine, @casownsmyass​, @davidkharboursex​, @palasathenea, @jobean12-blog​, @warmbeardsandredwine​, @mademoiselle-black​, @scrunchinn​, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​, @divadinag​, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae​, @ashphoenix105​, @alahmorah​, @daughterofthebrowncoats​, @letsby​, @tbkc​, @kiwiphroot​, @ashmely​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​, @unicornsandgliiitter​, @lucifer-in-leather​, @fearandloathing-in-missouri​, @heyjudeinthesky​, @sleepylunarwolf​, @ambeazyyy​, @countryfire22​, @sithlordslut​, @mondsafari​, @thejealousorchard​, @norcula​, @yondu-gonna-do-about-it, @earinafae​, @beltzboys2015-blog​, @jinxiejenna​, @hopperholland, @justsimplevicky​, @hellosupernaturaldoctor​, @lonelygirl-97, @ginasellsbooks​, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413​, @mrslydiaholden​, @kimberliinabox​, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly​, @allylupin​, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off​, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves​, @warriorqueen1991​, @thesurestthing​, @zuni21798​,  @quietlovelovely​, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail​, @happy-hopper​, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22, @slipperywhenwetsstuff, @crushed-pink-petals

Banner from https://allaboutjohnmcblain.wordpress.com/2013/10/31/happy-halloween/

[flamehairedwritings]

First Hallowe’en

For Hallowe’en Prompts 2018! Thank you so, so much to the anon who requested this cute lil prompt:

‘Halloween one shot (or whatever you prefer!) with Hopper and Eleven and his wife pretty please! Maybe Eleven’s first Halloween allowed out or something, I’m just dying to see some Hopper family Halloween fluff! 🧡🖤🧡🖤 Thank you!’

I’m so sorry it’s so late!

El saw one Hallowe’en commercial on TV and now you are doing  e v e r y t h i n g.

Pumpkin carving? You’re taking her out to the fields and picking up every one she even vaguely likes and letting her take her time deciding between them. Of course she wants the biggest one, a notion spurred on by Hop insisting you have to have that one.

You’ll carve your chosen pumpkins the night before, a familiar and classic spooky face because they’re a classic, and set them up outside the front door with candles in. El will open the curtains every few minutes just to check they’re still glowing.

You’ll stay up all night finishing her costume because, right down to you tucking her in to bed, she was still undecided as to what she wanted to be.

At one point you just consider making a hybrid of everything and calling it a science experiment gone wrong.

Then she’ll finally decide and you and Hopper will share beers as you work through most of the night to complete the costume because you will NOT allow your girl to go out in something half-assed.

The next day, Hallowe’en celebrations will kick off immediately.

Breakfast will be Eggos with candy sprinkled over them, eaten whilst watching a family-friendly Hallowe’en movie.

El will want to get into her costume straight away so once the film’s over you’ll be getting her into it, quite a feat when she’s practically bouncing from foot to foot.

Then there’ll be more pumpkin carving, followed by baking ‘scary’ treats involving gummy eyeballs, chocolate chip spikes and jelly worms, though most of the supply will have been eaten the night before by Hopper.

After eating half of the treats you’ll box up the leftovers and watch whatever’s spooky themed on TV or what you rented from the video store.

And then it’ll be time: trick or treating time.

Empty bag in one hand, your hand in the other, El will grin from ear to ear as Hopper walks at her other side. She’ll stare at everything, point at everyone and, based on her friends suggestion, insist you go to Loch Nora for the best candy.

Lo and behold, there the boys will be already in their coordinated outfits, bouncing from foot to foot and laughing.

They’ll grin and yell at the sight of the three at you, though their attention will quickly divert to El and her outfit.

She’ll smile as they crowd around and compliment it, swiftly complimenting you and Hopper on your sewing skills before they’ve got their arms around her and are walking up the drive to Loch Nora.

After that, it’ll be all you and Hopper can do to keep up with them.

You’ll slip your hand into his as you stride after the kids, keeping your eyes firmly on them as Hopper mumbles that they’ll be fine, despite his pace matching yours.

Your feet will start to drag a little, though, after the first hour.

“How do kids have so much damn energy.” “It’s all that candy they eat.” “Maybe we should’ve brought out our own supply.” “I did.” “What? And you haven’t been sharing with me?” “Fine, you want one?” “Yes, please, Chief, thank you kindly.”

Another hour or so later, though, long after you and Hopper were convinced they’d have a sugar crash, Hop will announce that it’s time to turn in for the night.

“All right, all right, all right, enough of that,” he’ll grumble as the boys try to convince him otherwise and El pulls the face she’s learned will sometimes get you and Hop to change your minds.

This time, though, as the people you pass start to look slightly older and definitely not in costumes, your minds won’t be changed: it’s the teenagers time to appear.

Once satisfied that the boys’ll be okay after seeing them halfway home to Mike’s house, knowing they’re all staying over there, the three of you will head home.

That’s when the sugar crash will hit.

Carrying El to her room, Hop will set her down and promise her he’ll keep her candy hidden somewhere safe. You’ll help her out of her costume and into her pyjamas, after which she’ll crawl under the covers.

As you do most nights, you and Hopper will read to her, from a spooky book, naturally, though you’ll only make it through half a chapter before she’s asleep, exhausted from the excitement of the day.

Smiling at Hop, both your hearts bursting with love, you’ll gently tuck her in and quietly slip out of the room and to the living room.

Collapsing onto the couch and in to Hopper’s arms, he’ll produce his private candy stash from his pocket and settle it between you.

“What a day.” “What a day.” “... Is a sugar hangover a thing?” “I don’t know. Let’s find out.”

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged or removed in my future work!

HC Masterlist

Masterlist

Tagged: @persephone-divine, @casownsmyass​, @davidkharboursex​, @palasathenea, @jobean12-blog​, @warmbeardsandredwine​, @mademoiselle-black​, @scrunchinn​, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​, @divadinag​, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae​, @ashphoenix105​, @alahmorah​, @daughterofthebrowncoats​, @letsby​, @tbkc​, @kiwiphroot​, @ashmely​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​, @unicornsandgliiitter​, @lucifer-in-leather​, @fearandloathing-in-missouri​, @heyjudeinthesky​, @sleepylunarwolf​, @ambeazyyy​, @countryfire22​, @sithlordslut​, @mondsafari​, @thejealousorchard​, @norcula​, @yondu-gonna-do-about-it, @earinafae​, @beltzboys2015-blog​, @jinxiejenna​, @hopperholland, @justsimplevicky​, @hellosupernaturaldoctor​, @lonelygirl-97, @ginasellsbooks​, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413​, @mrslydiaholden​, @kimberliinabox​, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly​, @allylupin​, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off​, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves​, @warriorqueen1991​, @thesurestthing​, @zuni21798​,  @quietlovelovely​, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail​, @happy-hopper​, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22, @slipperywhenwetsstuff, @crushed-pink-petals,

Banner from https://allaboutjohnmcblain.wordpress.com/2013/10/31/happy-halloween/

[flamehairedwritings]

Taking care of you when you’re too drunk headcanon pleeeeaaase?

Oh, yeeeeeeeesssss. ❤️

Hopper doesn’t care how much you drink. He knows and trusts that you know your limit and, besides… You are quite a delight when you’re drunk.

He’ll be glancing at you throughout the night, catching your eye and giving you a small, secretive smile. He’s hates being out for too long but some nights he doesn’t mind too much, finding he’ll actually be enjoying himself, a little bit. He’ll hear and watch you laugh, getting just a little bit louder and longer after you have your second drink.

And then someone will suggest shots.

You’ll have a couple. Then a couple more. Then maybe another one.

He’ll know the exact moment you’re too far gone.

You’ll have been at the bar, doing the shots with whoever else was doing them, and he’ll have stayed at the table, talking with his colleagues and sipping his beer.

Then he’ll feel arms slide around his neck. 

‘Hi, Chief, what’s goin’ on, what’re we chattin’ about?’

The corners of his mouth will twitch as he turns his head to look at you, a lazy smile on your lips and complete and utter adoration shining in your eyes as you gaze at him.

‘Not much. You ready to go home?’

‘Mmmhmmmh-uh.’ You’ll press a sloppy, lingering kiss to his cheek that’ll have him clearing his throat because his officers are watching, and he’ll gently pat your arm.

‘All right, come on, sweetheart.’

As he stands, you’ll keep your arms around him, letting them drop down his body and tightening them around his waist. He’ll wrap an arm around you as you hum, nodding and bidding good night to the others.

Managing to grab your bag and coat with his free hand, he’ll walk you through the bar, tightening his arm around you and practically holding you up. You’ll smile and wave goodbye to people he doesn’t know, and he’s fairly certain you don’t know them either, and he’ll have to half-drag you towards the doors.

Once you’re finally out of the bar, he thinks the hard part’s over.

He’s so wrong.

‘Oh my God, look at the sky.’

‘Yeah, it’s nice.’

‘No, look a�� it, Hop, oh my God, it’s gorgeous.’

‘Yeah, it is. Come on, sweetheart, let’s keep moving.’

‘Yeah, in a min’e.’

‘It’s cold, come on.’

‘Mmmhh, yeah, an’ I’ve go’ you here t’ keep me warm.’

‘All right, stop gettin’ handsy, come on.’

You’ll laugh as he extracts your hand from his ass, his own lips twitching, and he’ll eventually manage to coerce you into carrying on walking to the car.

Getting you into the car is easy enough; you’re over-joyed to be able to sit down.

As he drives you home, you’ll either try and get handsy again, ramble on about something that he has no idea how or why you started thinking about or close your eyes and decide it’s time for sleep. Either way, he’ll smile as he glances at you, trying to hide it if you look at him by running a hand down his mouth and beard.

Once home, that’s when he knows the real work starts.

Opening the passenger side door, he’ll either carry you or hold you up as you tell him indignantly that, yes, you can take the stairs ‘God damn it, Hopper’.

He’ll take you straight to the bedroom, or at least try very hard to.

‘Oh, ‘m so hungrrryyy.’

‘All right, I’ll get you somethin’ to eat once you’re in bed, all right?’

‘Mmhh, get me some fries?’

‘I’ll see what we’ve got.’

‘Let’s si’, let’s si’ on the couch, it’s so comfy.’

‘How about the bed, huh? The bed’s a lot more comfy.’

‘You tryna get me in to bed, Hop’?’

‘Yeah, I am.’

‘Ooh.’

‘Not like that, sweetheart, you’ve got to sleep.’

‘Ooh, you sure, Chief?’

‘Hey, stop that, stop with the hands.’

‘You like the hands, Hop’, you tell me all th’ time.’

He’ll finally get you through the bedroom door, trying very hard not to laugh or smile too widely as your hands slide up and down him, grinning.

He’ll settle you on the bed and you’ll either sit there, your head tipped slightly to one side, or you’ll fall back, lying down with a loud groan.

He’ll kneel down and remove your shoes, shoving them under the bed, and then he’ll tug your skirt down, shaking his head at any comments you make and nudging your hands away from his hair. Getting up, he’ll lean over you, tugging your shirt up. You’ll flop your arms above your head, smirking up at him.

‘This is exactly how I wan’ed this night t’ end.’

‘Calm down, I’ll be puttin’ somethin’ on you in a minute.’

‘Hope it’s th’ han’cuffs.’

‘It’s not the handcuffs.’

He’ll find a night dress, knowing it’s the easiest thing to get you in, and quickly dress you in it. Your yawn as he does so is a very good sign.

Still, he does need to get you food otherwise tomorrow is not going to be fun at all. He’ll grab you a glass of water and make the easiest thing he can, a sandwich consisting of whatever’s in the fridge, and one for himself, too, because, yeah, he’s hungry as well.

He’ll sit on the bed beside you after you pull yourself up and sit back against the headboard. You’ll rest your head on his shoulder as you eat, crumbs getting absolutely everywhere, but he won’t care.

‘Have a good night?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Finished your sandwich?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You tired?’

‘Yeah.’

Success.

Nearly.

Moving off the bed, he’ll tug the covers down, and pull them back up over you, tucking you in.

He won’t move away, though, he’ll settle on the bed beside you because he knows if he does your eyes will snap open and and you’ll spend the next five minutes trying to convince him to get into bed with you.

He’ll smile to himself as you grunt and rest your head on his chest, your arm sliding over him.

‘Goodnight, sweetheart.’

‘Mmff.’

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Tagged:  @persephone-divine, @casownsmyass​, @davidkharboursex​, @palasathenea, @jobean12-blog​, @warmbeardsandredwine​, @mademoiselle-black​, @scrunchinn​, @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash​, @divadinag​, @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @deepsouth, @neganslittlebae​, @ashphoenix105​, @alahmorah​, @daughterofthebrowncoats​, @letsby​, @tbkc​, @kiwiphroot​, @ashmely​, @sistasarah-sallysaidso​, @unicornsandgliiitter​, @lucifer-in-leather​, @fearandloathing-in-missouri​, @heyjudeinthesky​, @sleepylunarwolf​, @ambeazyyy​, @countryfire22​, @sithlordslut​, @mondsafari​, @thejealousorchard​, @norcula​, @yondu-gonna-do-about-it, @earinafae​, @beltzboys2015-blog​, @jinxiejenna​, @hopperholland, @justsimplevicky​, @hellosupernaturaldoctor​, @lonelygirl-97, @ginasellsbooks​, @dwarvenbunnyears, @vale0413​, @mrslydiaholden​, @kimberliinabox​, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly​, @allylupin​, @cant-shake-this-feeling-off​, @the-bitch-gotham-deserves​, @warriorqueen1991​, @thesurestthing​, @zuni21798​,  @quietlovelovely​, @maddieisaboredable, @windinyoursnail​, @happy-hopper​, @yedi16, @negansdirtygirl22