#jinxiejenna

[jinxiejenna]

Masterlist

* Means NSFW/smut/lemon

Captain America

Comfort 

I’ll walk you home

Dean Winchester

 It reminded me of you

Pull over. Let me drive a while

Gabriel

House Party

Come here. Let me fix it

John Winchester

Drink this, you’ll feel better

Sam Merlotte

No, no. It’s my treat

Sirius Black

I dreamt of you last night

Harry Hart

Its ok. I couldn’t sleep anyways *

Can I have this dance

Negan

Take my jacket, it’s cold outside *

[winchesterenthusiast]

I stumbled on your blog through a Dean fic that I adored so I had to check out your master list. I'm obsessed with Papa Winchester and your John fic is literally perfection. Never have I found a better one! Please I beg of you. Do more John!! You're amazing!

wow that’s amazing to hear, thank you so much!! I only ever wrote one John fic but my biggest fear is actually doing him justice. that means soooo much to me. my next fic lined up is actually a John fic, so you’ll be reading more soon! :) thanks again! xo

[flamehairedwritings]

pls headcanons about hopper + squirting 🥺

Again, I’m so sorry this has taken so long!! I hope you enjoy and that you’re doing okay!

This HC contains swearing, overstimulation, lots of fun finger stuff, some ‘good girl’s, and a touch of praise kink, so 18+, obvs.

─

If You’ve Never Squirted Before

It started like any other night.

You and Jim Hopper are newly dating and still finding out what the other likes, and taking great pleasure in it.

‘Oh, fuck...’ you breathe as he places hungry, open-mouthed kisses on your neck, three of his thick, long fingers thrusting in and out of you, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your clit. Your hands are gripping at his hair and shoulder, your breaths coming quicker and higher as your orgasm nears.

‘Yeah, cum for me... C’mon, baby...’

When you do, slick walls gripping at him, hips arching, he’ll kiss down your throat to your chest, his fingers only slowing a little. He loves to prolong your pleasure as much as possible... but there’s something different about this time.

He usually slows gradually but he doesn’t, just continuing. Your fingers press into his skin, your mouth opening, and his lips will move to your ear.

‘This okay?’

God, you love how he checks in with you, it’s such a damn turn-on.

You nod quickly as the knot of pleasure in your lower stomach, still lingering and spreading through you, starts to heighten again, your back arching.

His head is at your chest, lips wrapped around your nipple, sucking firmly as his tongue circles it.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck...’ you chant breathlessly, one hand flying up from his hair to grip at the headboard to try and ground yourself.

‘You gonna cum again for me, baby?’ he murmurs against your breasts, mouth moving to your other nipple.

‘Mhm...’ is all you can get out, the sound short and high from the back of your throat.

His fingers fuck you through the waves of pleasure that wash over you for a second time, his arm by your head to hold himself up as your own body arches, longer moans slipping from your lips.

You try to catch your breath as his fingers slow a little again, though, again, only a little.

Hopper mouths his way up your throat to your lips, swallowing your breathless moans with light, lingering kisses.

‘You feel so good,’ he murmurs, fingers scissoring slightly inside you, flexing and rotating. ‘So fuckin’ wet for me...’

Your eyes are nearly rolling back as you groan softly, your hands now gripping at his shoulders. You’re so sensitive now, barely coming down from your first orgasm let alone your second... but it just feels so damn good...

And then his thumb starts to slowly circle your swollen, aching clit again

Gasping, your nails dig into his skin, your eyes now rolling back as you close them.

‘Oh, fu─uck...”

‘Still okay?’ he murmurs against your cheek, pressing a gentle kiss there.

It’s a few moments before you can speak, unable to stop your hips from rolling up into his touch slightly. ‘I don’t think I can... Don’t think I can cum again...’

‘Yeah, you can... You gonna give me one more?’

His eyes lock with yours... and, fuck, you want to.

‘... Yeah... Yeah, I can...’

‘There’s a good girl.’

Just those words pull a moan from you, and you feel his smile against your skin.

His fingers slide back a little, massaging, probing, curling... and he knows he’s found it when you cry out with unbridled pleasure, your head thrown back, teeth gritted. He curls them over and over, stroking and stroking as his thumb circles your clit.

‘Oh God, oh God, fuck, oh, God...’ Words and sounds fall from your lips, all you know and can focus on the pure bliss coursing through you.

And then a familiar yet unfamiliar sensation starts to rapidly build in your lower stomach.

Gasping, your eyes snap open as you look down at him, trying to find the words but you can barely speak. ‘Mmh... Think... Think I’m gonna─’

An intense flood of pleasure barrels through you as you release, gushing all over his fingers, hand and arm.

He practically growls, eyes darting from your face, to catch your every expression, to your dripping pussy, his fingers and thumb not stopping.

‘Fuck, yeah, soak my arm, baby... That’s it...’

You think you might have completely zoned out or maybe even passed out for a couple of seconds because suddenly his lips are on your forehead and his fingers are finally slowing to a stop.

‘Good girl, so fuckin’ good...’ he murmurs, his kisses so tender as his wet hand settles on your waist.

You can feel parts of his bare chest are damp, too, as he leans closer to you.

Holy fucking shit.

‘You good?’ he asks quietly, brushing his nose against yours.

‘Mhmm... Yeah... So fucking good...’

He chuckles as he captures your lips in a deep kiss.

After that, anytime you have an extended amount of time together he’ll try and make you squirt, taking great pleasure in doing so.

Which leads into...

If You’ve Squirted Before

Hopper has a designated towel for the ~ occasion ~ as he likes to call it. He just needs to appear in the door way, holding it in one hand, eyes fixed on you, and you’re already practically squirming.

He’ll watch your every reaction and expression, making sure he’s not pushing you too far, though he trusts that you’ll tell him if he is anyway.

He loves the absolute release it gives you, your entire body going slack as your mouth drops open.

And he loves it so much because he knows how much you fucking love it.

As always, he whispers the most sinfully delicious things into your ear, telling you how wet you are, to listen to the sounds your pussy’s making, to soak him and the towel, to make a mess.

Afterwards, he’ll always press the softest of kisses to your lips and forehead, giving you the time you need to come down from your high, hands stroking your thighs, stomach, waist. He’ll tell you how incredible you are, how well you did for him.

He’ll want to know exactly how it felt, how good it was.

Then, he’ll do all the cleaning up while you lie there, still trying to catch your breath, dazed. Wrapping his arms around you when he climbs back into bed, he’ll brush kisses along your shoulder and neck, ending up near your ear so he can murmur how much he loves you.

─

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Masterlist

Tagged: @herb-welch, @punkpascal @davidkharboursex, @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,  @kiwiphroot, @ashmely, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @unicornsandgliiitter, @lucifer-in-leather,  @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari,  @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @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, @my-rosegold-soul @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @opalsandlacemain @geordiequeen, @gothackedalready, @ayatimascd, @missaudreyhorney, @chiefharbour, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @saltandroot

Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

[flamehairedwritings]

Candy Hearts

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: <1k

Rating: M

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the first day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition! Let’s warm up with something sweet, shall we.

This story contains swearing, mentions of alcohol, flirty banter, and a realisation.

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Candy Hearts

Phones ring, pencils and pens scribble against paper and low murmurings echo across the Station floor.

Bliss.

The day crew is starting to be replaced by the night crew, but you? Oh, you’re the lone member of the all-day crew.

Accepting the double-shift on one of the most understaffed days of the year was a no-brainer. You had absolutely no plans and didn’t intend on making any, in fact you had been delighted when Flo called the week before, sighing before she’d even started and expecting a ‘no’ like all the previous calls. Your friends had finally ceased their well-meaning pestering about going out to the bar or going over to one of theirs for a movie night or doing any number of things they could come up with at thinking you’d be miserable about being single.

They just can’t believe that you’re actually okay. Sure, sometimes you get a slight pang of longing when you see couples or watch a romantic movie or, let’s be honest, have a few alcoholic beverages, but generally you’re fine.

It’s just that the forcedness of the so-called holiday irks you. Why should one day be dedicated to doing something nice for your partner and showing them how much you love them? There’s pressure on single people, too; everyone asking what you’re up to, how you’re going to spend it, pity in their eyes and a joke on their tongue. Nope, you’d rather just spend the day being alone with peace and quiet.

... Or here surrounded by noise and people you like but who won’t bother you.

“Well, look at this.”

Well, one of them will.

Releasing a faux-exasperated sigh as you sit back, you manage to not smile as you meet Jim Hopper’s gaze.

“Oh, no, look at this. Every woman in town turn you down?”

He snorts as he sits on the edge of your desk, unwrapping a chocolate loveheart and popping it into his mouth. “I haven’t asked every woman.”

“Haa,” you say dryly as he gives you a wink. “What’re you waiting for, then, Casanova?”

“Don’t wanna get my ass kicked in the parkin’ lot later.”

Your smile breaks through, damn it, and he grins, unwrapping another loveheart.

“Yeah, there’s that smile.”

“Shut up and share your chocolate.”

“Nah, I like these too much, can’t believe they only make ‘em once a year, I’m gonna have to write a letter, but before you give me that look, I got you these...”

Pulling a tube-shaped packet out of his ‘Chief’ jacket pocket, he tosses it to you. Catching it, you raise your eyebrows as you read it before looking back up at him.

“... You bought me candy hearts?”

He shrugs, unwrapping another chocolate. “It was all that was left at the store that wasn’t a teddy sayin’ ‘I love you’ or a fake rose.”

“Oh, good choice, then.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” He watches you as you unwrap the packet and take a heart off the top. “Hey, read it out, what’s it say?”

Tilting your head, you exhale a breath as you turn it so you can read the tiny writing. “Uh... ‘Call me’.”

“Okay, what time?”

You just can’t stop your smile from returning as you side-eye him. “I can’t believe no one accepted your offer of a date...”

He chuckles, ripping up the foil wrap between his hands. “Oh, well, that might also be because I didn’t ask anyone.”

Pausing, you blink as you look at him. “What?”

This is unheard of. As is him working on Valentine’s Day for that matter. The bar is hosting its traditional Singles Night which he is practically a guest of honour at, so what the hell is he doing here?

“Yeah,” is all he says, rolling the foil up into a small ball.

“Oh.” Realising you’ve been staring a second or two longer than you should, you raise your eyebrows as you smile. “Couldn’t handle all the rejection?”

Hopper shakes his head as he straightens, a smile pulling at his lips as he looks at you. “Nah. I’d just rather be here.”

He unwraps another chocolate as he moves between the desks towards his office, and your eyes follow him the entire time.

Oh.

No.

But...

No.

Definitely not.

But what if...

Lips parted, you watch him as he removes his jacket and settles it on the back of his chair before sitting down, a hand running over his hair.

No...

No...

You’re reading into things now, stop it...

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you pull another candy heart off the top and, on instinct, read it.

‘Love Bird’.

You swiftly pop it into your mouth, feeling heat flood your cheeks.

No...

Unless...?

—

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Masterlist

Tagged: @herb-welch, @punkpascal @davidkharboursex, @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,  @kiwiphroot, @ashmely, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @unicornsandgliiitter, @lucifer-in-leather,  @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari,  @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @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, @my-rosegold-soul @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @opalsandlacemain @geordiequeen, @gothackedalready, @ayatimascd, @missaudreyhorney, @chiefharbour, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @saltandroot, @ollypopp @soyuncheez

Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

[flamehairedwritings]

Chocolates

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Reader

Words: 1k

Rating: M

A/N: Hello! Welcome to the fourth day of my 7 Days of Valentine’s Drabbles, the 2021 edition!

This story once again contains swearing and two idiots in love, and is inspired by When Harry Met Sally, because if the D*ffer Brothers can rip off 80s movies then so can I. Enjoy!

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Chocolates

The slamming shut of the Blazer door echoes across the quiet cul-de-sac, followed swiftly by keys jangling as they are shoved into a pocket and the pounding of boots on wooden steps as they are taken two at a time.

Reaching the top, Jim Hopper clears his throat, takes a breath, and then knocks sharply on the olive-green front door three times.

Quiet.

He's about to knock again when, through the small frosted glass, he spies a blurry shape shuffling closer. The door is yanked open, and he comes face to face with your weeping, crumbling features.

“Hi,” you greet shakily, voice cracking.

“Hey,” he answers quietly, frozen to the spot because suddenly I don’t know what the hell to do here.

Sniffing good and hard, you wave a hand behind you as you step to the side. “Come in.”

He steps through the door immediately, standing awkwardly with his bulky ‘Chief’ jacket on, the first one he happened to grab on his way out, and a huge, purple box of chocolates in his hands. Hopper watches you as you close the door, your hand retreating back into the huge sleeve of your fluffy, pale blue dressing gown before you turn to him.

He feels so stupid and lost as you look at him, your chin wobbling slightly, and then he remembers his life-line.

“Brought you chocolate,” he mumbles, holding the box out slightly.

Your gaze drops to it and you sniff again. “That’s... That’s s-so s-sweet, Hop’.”

It’s horrible, actually, he thinks, because he watches in horror as you suddenly dissolve into tears, barely able to take a breath. Before he can stop himself, though, he’s reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Hey, hey, what happened?”

You’d called fifteen minutes before, barely able to get your words out just as you try to now, and all he’d managed to decipher was, “...c-come over?” He’d headed for the door instantly.

“... H-He... G-God...”

His hand falls from your shoulder as you turn, shuffling under the archway into your living room. Following, he hovers by the fireplace as you plop down onto the couch amongst a pile of crumpled tissues. Dragging another one out of a box, you wipe at your face and nose as he stands there, still clutching the box of chocolates.

“... H-He’s getting married, the liar.” Your voice cracks on the insult, and it softens some of the rage that instantly builds inside him, before he realises he has no idea who you’re talking about.

“... Who?”

“D-Darren,” you hiccup, sniffing. “H-Him and A-Alison. He called me earlier a-and invited me to the wedding. B-But he always said he never w-wanted to g-get married...” You take in a shuddering breath as you shrug, looking so utterly helpless that his heart twists. “... I should’ve known. I should’ve known. H-He just didn’t want to m-marry me, God, I’m such a-an i-idiot...”

“Hey, hey, woah...” All awkwardness and uncertainty leaves his body and mind as he moves towards you, setting the chocolates down on the coffee table and sitting at your side. A large hand settles over both of yours gripping at a tissue, his lips pressing together as your watery eyes lift to meet his. “... You’re not an idiot, okay?”

“I am,” you sniff, “I t-trust people t-too much.”

“You want to see the good in people,” he counters, squeezing your hands lightly.

You scoff, the sound coming out more like a sob as you sit back, head leaning against the back of the couch. His hand remains on yours as he leans back, too, still facing you.

“I p-pressured him,” you mumble, sniffing.

“You told him what you wanted.”

“I talked to h-his friends too much.”

“You wanted to get to know them.”

“I made h-him do something e-every weekend.”

“You wanted to spend time with him.”

“I-I came on t-too s-strong.”

He doesn’t realise his thumb has started stroking back and forth across your knuckles. “You love people with all your heart.”

Your head has turned towards his, cheeks wet, teeth biting at your lower lip as you sniff. “Well, I hate it.”

“Don’t,” he murmurs instantly, his other hand resting on top of your head lightly, his thumb stroking gently. “It’s one of your best qualities.”

You scoff again, a tear dripping down your cheek. “Even though I’m stubborn—”

“In a good way.”

“— and d-difficult—”

“Assertive.”

“— and irritate you?”

His eyebrows raise slightly, thumbs continuing to stroke lightly, and a corner of his mouth lifts. “You don’t irritate me. Well, you do, but I can put up with it.”

You hiccup a laugh and his smile widens. Moving his hand from yours, he gently wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumb, watching you as you blow out a breath.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmurs, and you nod.

“I know. It’s just... shitty,” you mumble.

“I know.”

His hand returns to yours, giving them a pat. “You want me to open up that box of chocolates?”

“Hell yes.”

Chuckling, his hand moves from your head and he makes to reach over when you catch his hand, lacing your fingers together. Meeting your gaze again, he holds it as you squeeze his hand.

“Thanks, Hop’, for this.”

Hopper returns the squeeze, a corner of his mouth lifting higher.

“Don’t worry about it.”

Your hand drops from his as he gestures at the TV that you didn’t bother to turn off when the doorbell rang.

“What’re you watchin’?”

You sniff. “Some action film that doesn’t make sense.”

“Perfect.”

As he pulls his jacket off and grabs the chocolate, you turn the volume of the TV up before settling your feet on the coffee table. Unwrapping the chocolates, Hopper settles the box against one arm so you can both dive into it, eyes now glued to the nonsensical action occurring on the screen. He’s just starting to get into the paper-thin plot when he suddenly feels your head rest against his shoulder.

He doesn’t move as you get comfortable, sniffles a thing of the past now, your hand gently resting on his arm, just above the box. Biting at the inside of his lower lip, he manages to stop the smile that desperately wants to break out across his features.

Instead, he just sits quietly with you, watching the film. And after a few minutes, he gently rests his head against yours.

—

Reblogs and comments make my day in a way I can’t describe.

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Masterlist

Tagged: @herb-welch, @punkpascal @davidkharboursex, @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,  @kiwiphroot, @ashmely, @sistasarah-sallysaidso, @unicornsandgliiitter, @lucifer-in-leather,  @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari,  @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @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, @my-rosegold-soul @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @opalsandlacemain @geordiequeen, @gothackedalready, @ayatimascd, @missaudreyhorney, @chiefharbour​, @l0ve-0f-my-life​, @saltandroot​, @ollypopp​ @soyuncheez​

​

Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

[flamehairedwritings]

hi! could you do some hcs about hopper and his gf going to a fancy event and him being all handsy?

I’m so sorry this has taken so long!! Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you’re doing okay!

NSFW below the cut!

Hopper hates going out.

Actually, hate is a strong word.

He hates going somewhere he doesn’t know. He doesn’t like going out. If he could, he’d hole up in his trailer until the end of time with beer, his record player, crime novels and a TV.

That was before he met you. When he did... well, he kind of started to like going out, as long as it was with you. In your first few months of dating, you went to the cinema, to restaurants, to shops, to his favourite bar, over to his colleagues’ houses for BBQs and dinners and he found that maybe, slightly, a little bit, sometimes, he enjoyed himself. As long as you were back at his or yours by midnight.

‘oKaY CiNdErElLa’ you are oft to say as he pulls his jacket on and eyes up the door.

The Hawkins City Hall Gala is an event that happens every year, once a year to celebrate the bravest and best of Hawkins, with some citizens invited who are honoured, and officials and those from the police, hospital and fire department also in attendance. It sounds fancy? It isn’t. As much as Mayor Kline likes to put on a show, get all those invited dressed up to the nines and free champagne going, it’s just an adult version of a school awards assembly.

Hopper has to go. Has to. When he once tried to decline, Kline sent a huge gift basket to his trailer and to the Station every day until he called and said ‘ACTUALLY YES I WILL COME’.

Usually he goes with his work buddies and they bring their wives or girlfriends and they’ll hang around in a corner drinking and eating until the awards ceremony starts and then they’ll all sit together at the back bored out of their minds.

You’ve been dating for nearly six months when it comes round to it, and he invites you, in the way that Hopper would invite.

‘It’s just a shitty little ego parade thing for Kline, some people are good there, they deserve the awards sometimes, but more often than not it’s just some kids and old people gettin’ ‘em for living a long time or doing the most paper rounds or some shit like that, but the food’s good and the drinks are free ‘cause Kline wants everyone to have a good time and it finishes at about 11 and then there’s the after-party which is usually shitty, too, so we can just come home or go to a bar with the guys and their girls or just come home, I don’t mind.’

‘... So do you want me to come.’

‘Yeah. If you’re not busy or have anything better to do ‘cause really it is so shitty─’

‘I’ll come.’

‘You sure? It’s really shitty, it’s just the worst─’

‘Stop, I’m coming.’ you will be

On the night, you’ll be dressed up to the nines like everyone else, wearing your favourite outfit, which also happens to be Hop’s favourite outfit on you, but he likes anything on you so it doesn’t exactly count, and he’s in a suit, one hand in his pocket, the other holding yours.

After being greeted by Kline and his wife on the steps, the Mayor’s constant grin verging on maniacal, Hop’ll make a beeline for the nearest drinks and you’ll just have caught up with him when he’s heading to a corner, his colleagues already there with their partners. They’ll have hoarded some food and beer and champagne bottles already and you’ll resign yourself to the not so terrible idea of just hanging out here all night.

Hop’s hand will settle on your lower back and a conversation with start up about the food or the drink or Kline, in hushed tones, and that’ll be it.

Except you start to feel Hopper’s hand drifting down a little.

And then a lot.

Your back is to the wall, so no one can see, but you’re very much hoping no one notices your slightly widening eyes, your lips parting then quickly closing, and the hitching in your breath.

Hopper, on the other hand, is cool as a cucumber, nodding and carrying out a conversation with Powell without missing a beat. His hand is now fully cupping your ass, fingers splaying and gently caressing. You have to fight very hard to stop your back from arching.

You bastard...

What is it about him and his touch that has you turned on in seconds?

His fingers drift lower, sliding in until they’re near your covered pussy, and damn him...

Your attention is drawn away, momentarily, by someone standing at the other end of the room calling for everyone’s attention. As the preliminary speeches start, your little group quietens, but Hopper’s hand doesn’t move.

It slides even closer, his fingers caressing in slow, light circles.

You have to fight so hard to keep your breathing even, your hands clasped tightly in front of you.

Hopper shifts his stance slightly, his head leaning down, and he murmurs into your ear so only you can hear;

‘I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you.’

Oh, fuck.

Clearing your throat, you smile politely at your group and excuse yourself quietly, saying you need to use the restroom. Hopper’s hand slides off your ass, but not before his fingers give a slight squeeze.

Message received.

You have to ask one of the staff where the restroom even is, hoping your slightly flushed and faintly jittery attitude will just be interpreted as confusion and a desperate need to go.

She points towards a grand staircase and tells you to go right before it. You do, your heart pounding with anticipation.

God, this place is fancy.

Hopper mutters all the time about how Kline has poured the majority of the town’s money into this place, and, hell, next time he mutters you’re going to join him.

There are three doors, all having a gold ‘W/C’ on them. You open the furthest one at the end of the corridor and step in, quickly closing the door behind you and leaving it unlocked before you survey the room. It’s very fancy.

Gold everywhere. Gold everything.

You pull a slight face at trying to take it all in, the slightly dim lighting shining off of it all.

Then, the door opens behind you.

Turning, you watch Hopper step in, your breath catching in your throat. His eyes are on you, darker, focused. Closing the door, he doesn’t even blink as he locks it.

‘Are you?’ he asks in a low, gravelled tone.

Your three seconds of silence are just to tease him.

‘Yes.’

He closes the distance between you in two seconds.

Hands cupping your face, he captures your lips in a fierce, demanding kiss, long fingers spreading across the sides of your neck. You return it instantly, hands gripping at the back of his suit jacket to both steady yourself and keep him against you.

He’ll take you hard against the counter, your hands having to grip the sink as he thrusts into you from behind, hands tight on your hips.

‘Look at me...’ he’ll growl, and you’ll lift your gaze, meeting his in the reflection of the gilded mirror as moans tumble from your lips. ‘... Yeah... Look at me while I fuck you, sweetheart... while my cock’s deep inside you... I want you to look at me while I feel you cum...’

No one will notice that it takes you both ten minutes to return, and that you’re still trying to catch your breath, and his shirt is rumpled, tie now knotted too tightly.

It’ll only take a few moments for his hand to return to your ass, and a smile will pull at your lips, his last words to you lingering in your mind.

‘Oh, you just wait until we’re home, sweetheart...’

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

The Photo-Booth

Characters: Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Words: 983

Rating: E, 18+ ONLY

Summary: You and Hop need more... posed pictures together.

A/N: This lil drabble was inspired by a prompt from @missaudreyhorney and this post about an hour ago, and I just couldn’t get it out of my mind.

This story contains dirty talk, semi-public sex, and Hop calling you a lil slut.

Masterlist

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

—

“Oh, come on, Hop, pleeeeeeease...”

“... All right, fine...”

Grinning, you pull him towards the fairground photo-booth, hearing him sigh begrudgingly behind you. It doesn’t deter you at all.

You don’t have many photos of you and Hop; he doesn’t exactly know how to pose for them, so the ones you do have are candids, which you love, but you want actual posed ones, and a photo-booth is the perfect, cute opportunity to do that.

Besides, you’ve had a great day, too; it’s the first time you’ve both been able to go on an actual date night in weeks and you want to commemorate it.

Pulling the curtain open, you find, as expected, only one stool, and he sits on it as you pull the curtain closed, the length of it falling to just below his knees.

You catch his lips twitching as you take a seat on his lap, draping your arms around his neck.

“All right, now I’m into this...”

“Shut up,” you laugh as his lips lift into a smirk, his arms wrapping around your waist. “Gimme some coins, please.”

Rooting around in his pocket, he pulls a small handful of coins out and passes them to you, and you push them into the machine, then press a button on the screen as they’re accepted.

Adjusting your position on his lap so you can fit in the frame the screen shows, you push back against his cock, and he releases a soft, involuntary grunt. Your lips twitch, and—

And then the most delicious of sneaky ideas crosses your mind.

You get six photos, with five seconds in between them to pose.

And you’re going to make each one count.

As the countdown for the first one starts, you drape your arms around his neck and smile because you want at least one nice, wholesome one. Looking at the screen, you can see Hop is smiling, too, which makes your stomach flip with affection... and then the picture’s taken and your sneaky idea comes back to you.

The five second count down starts again... and your arms move from around his neck and before he knows it, your hands are gripping the bottom of your shirt and you’re lifting it and your bra, exposing your breasts to the camera.

You feel him stiffen and, on the screen, you watch his mouth drop open as you beam, and the picture is taken.

You bite at your lower lip to try and stop your smirk as you keep your shirt raised, and as the countdown begins again, you shift and arch your back, pressing your ass against his cock. He grunts again, and almost without thinking, almost as if he can’t stop himself, his hands go to your breasts, covering them.

But instead of doing so to hide them, he grips and squeezes them. Your mouth now drops open in a breathy, quiet moan, and the camera captures it.

The countdown begins once more, and before you can think of your next pose, one of his hands suddenly moves up to your throat, gently gripping it, and he pulls you back against him, making your back arch further.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl...” he gravels into your ear as your lips remain parted, and you just can’t stop yourself from moving your ass against him.

He growls, his fingers tightening momentarily against your neck, and the picture is taken, capturing you both mid-moan.

The countdown starts, and he’s moving before you can, his hand dropping from your breast to grip at the hem of your skirt and he pulls it up, revealing your panties. Leaning your head back against his shoulder, your hands drop to grip at his thighs as you spread your legs to show the camera your panties.

“That’s it, baby...” he groans against your ear, and the camera captures you both.

You barely register the countdown starting for the last time as he rumbles, “Lift your fuckin’ legs...”

Lifting them instantly, you press your shoes against either side of the camera, and his hand slides down into your panties. Your eyes fall shut as his fingers slowly circle your already aching clit, and his other hand gently pulls and tugs at your nipple.

Biting hard at your lower lip to stifle a moan, his lips press against your cheek just in time for the camera to take the final picture.

Humming low in your throat, you swallow and lick your lips, opening your eyes and turning your head to look at him. He meets your gaze, his pupils wide, his fingers still playing with your clit, and a corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other.

“Maybe we could take a couple more, huh?”

Your own lips widen into a lazy, easy smirk as you rock your ass back against him.

“Mmh, I’d like that... But maybe we should collect the others before anyone sees...”

His lips brush against your ear as he groans through gritted teeth, and you feel his hard, straining cock against you.

“You don’t want people seein’ what a little slut you are, huh?”

His fingers glide down your slit just as you’re about to reply, your moan stealing your response.

“Shh, shh, shh...” he hushes you quietly, two finger tips dipping into your slick pussy. “... Here’s what’s gonna happen...” You have to make yourself focus so hard on what he’s saying as his fingers shallowly fuck you. “... You’re gonna put some more coins in the machine... And you’re gonna be nice and fuckin’ quiet as it takes pictures while you sit on my cock...”

Preempting your moan, knowing you so well, his other hand lifts to cover your mouth just in time, muffling it.

You feel his smirk against your neck. “... But you gotta be nice and quiet and quick... Don’t want anyone outside seein’ those pictures or hearin’ what a desperate little slut you are, do you?”

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

omg im newly obsessed with hopper and your hcs are amazing!! could i request something about him maybe being weird about his weight and not wanting to squish you, but you love feeling him on top of you

Omg, thank you so much!! I’m so sorry this is so late!!

—

Hopper has always been a bigger guy.

He’s never usually minded, he’s taller, anyway, so he just thought that was how his proportions were and that was it.

It helps with his work, too, helps him to come across more imposing, so he’s never really thought about it.

When having sex with someone, though... thoughts start to creep into his mind.

When he used to go around Hawkins having his one night stands, those thoughts never really came to him because he was so in the moment, chasing his pleasure and that of the person with him.

Of course, when it was your fourth date, and the kissing and touching got a little hotter and heavier, he was thinking about your pleasure, too, but...

It just came into his mind, his size. he didn’t know why. he tried to shove it away, focusing on your hands on him, your mouth, your moans, your smile, but then you’d been on your bed, and he’d been above you... he just couldn’t help it.

Maybe it was because he wanted you to stay around, for this to not be a one time thing and that maybe... well, he’d had more time to think about you than his other pursuits, and he was starting to think that... he didn’t know, maybe you’d looked at him, thought about his weight... of course, you hadn’t, but he didn’t know that.

‘what?’ you murmur as you cup his face, your legs wrapped around his waist, your lips parted, body warm and aching.

He releases a breath, both hands above your head, supporting himself, pushing himself up higher than he needs to be so his stomach won’t touch yours.

‘I...’

His jaw clenches slightly when you raise your eyebrows, and he feels like an ass even as he mumbles it;

‘... don’t wanna squash you.’

Your brow dips, not fully understanding at first, then, your features soften and the backs of your fingers caress his cheek, as you smile.

‘Hopper... I love your body, I think you’re so fucking sexy, come here...’

Tightening your legs around his waist, you press up against him, claiming his lips in a fierce kiss.

All insecurities are forgotten as he finally buries himself inside you, and you moan and arch up against him, breathing out his name.

He never thinks those insecurities again as you caress every inch of him, hold him, grip onto him, kiss every inch of skin you can get to and how you tell him over and over how you love feeling him against you, how you love him trapping you in with his arms and body, how it makes you feel safe when he holds you, just how much you love every inch of him.

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

So, I know you've done an overprotective hopper headcanons post already and I know there's a lot of posts about him telling his girl not to walk home alone at night cause it isn't safe. But could you do some headcanons about what he would be like if he actually couldn't find you or get a hold of you?

Another lateness apology! I’m catchin’ up, I swear!

—

He’s not an over-bearing man.

He’s not. He deals with guys who are over-bearing to their partners every day, he fucking hates it.

He does love and care fiercely for the people he chooses to have in his life, though.

If you’re dating him, he likes to call you after work, likes to hear your voice, likes to hear how your day was and just chat.

So, he calls you when he gets home. The phone keeps ringing… and ringing… and ringing.

That’s fine, though, maybe you had to stay a little longer on your shift, cover for someone else, maybe.

So, he’ll call in half an hour again.

The phone rings, and rings and rings.

That’s… fine. Maybe you had to stay quite a bit longer.

He’ll call your work, just in case you need a ride home.

When they tell him you left an hour ago, his heart will begin to pound.

You’re always home on time, always.

He’ll tell himself not to worry. It’ll be fine. Maybe you met with a friend and forgot to tell him, or it was spontaneous.

After 15 minutes, though, when he can’t concentrate, when he can’t sit still, when he can’t think properly, he’ll be out of his front door and in his car, heading towards the centre of town.

He’ll go to your work and ask them again, but they’ll just repeat what they told him over the phone.

He’ll call the Station from there, but they won’t have had any reports of anything, though Callahan will say he’ll keep an ear out, but that you’ll be okay.

Hopper will decide to just drive around, then, search all the roads himself.

Every possible situation will be running through his mind, every dark thing that could possibly happen.

He’ll be gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white, features stony, heart pounding.

Then, driving down one of the many dark lanes that leads out of the centre of Hawkins, he’ll see you.

Walking on the side of the damn fucking road.

He’ll swerve, pulling over on the other side and making you freeze before you realise it’s his Blazer.

He’ll kill the engine, shove his door open and stride across the road towards you.

Where he’ll be frantic and relieved, you’ll be relieved and tired, your arms dropping from where they had been folded.

‘Oh, Hop, I—’

You’ll be forced to cut off as his arms wrap around you so tightly, pulling you into him, his eyes closing as he exhales a sharp breath.

‘Hop, what—’

‘Oh, sweetheart, Christ… I couldn’t get hold of you, I didn’t know where you fuckin’ were…’

Your stomach will twist at the relief in his voice, and the undercurrent of panic still lingering in it.

‘Hop, I’m so sorry, I went for a drink with a friend and then got the bus home but it broke down, only a little way back, so I decided to walk to yours…’

He’ll just hold you tighter, his lips pressing against your head.

You’re fine. You’re okay. Nothing happened. You were close to his house. But…

‘You should’ve walked back to work and called me, sweetheart.’

‘I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just figured I was so close that…’

You don’t finish your thought, but you both think it.

You thought nothing would have happened to you.

He shoves all thoughts like that from his mind and pulls back, smiling at you as he holds your shoulders.

You return the smile, your hands on his chest.

‘Take me home?’

‘Abso-fuckin’-lutely.’

His arm around your shoulder, he’ll guide you towards the Blazer, trying to slow his still pounding heart.

‘… I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow, all right?’

You glance up at home, knowing, for his piece of mind, he’ll need to.

‘Abso-fucking-lutely.’

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

Could you do some headcanons on mutual masturbation with hopper? Like would he be into watching you touch yourself (while also possibly getting himself off)? Or would he see it as a waste of time because he's far more interested in having his own hands on you?

Laaaate again, but, oh, nelly, this was fun.

—

Oh, now,,,

Hopper  l o v e s  watching you touch yourself.

He loves that you can tease each other while making yourselves feel good. He loves watching your features, watching your eyes drop to his cock, to his hand, to his eyes, taking him all in, and he loves watching your fingers move up and down and in your slick pussy, your breasts moving with each ragged breath you take, your mouth open, your nipples hard.

He loves to tell you what to do, too, loves to guide you.

‘Play with your clit, baby… Yeah, that’s it… Fuck… That feel good, huh? You like that?’

‘Spread your legs for me, baby, that’s it… Fu-uck… Yeah… Show me your pretty pussy…’

‘… Fingers all the way in, sweetheat, that’s it, fuck, tell me how fuckin’ good that feels, yeah…’

‘… Play with your nipples… Tug on ‘em for me…’

And he fucking loves when you do it in return.

‘Stroke your cock slow for me, Hopper… Yeah… Bet you wish that was my hand, don’t you… Bet you wish that was my pussy warm and wet and tight around you… Ah, ah, ah… Slow…’

You both like the anticipation, the teasing, knowing it’ll be that much sweeter when you can have each other, but wanting to test each other, see who will break first…

Usually it’s him.

‘cause he only loves watching you up until a certain point… and then he needs to have his fucking hands and mouth on you.

‘C’mere, sweetheart, it’s my turn to feel that pretty cunt…’

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

HC about Hopper’s first time with you and you call him Jim instead of Chief or Hop.

Apologies for lateness! Again! This was very fun to do.

—

He sometimes forgets his own name is actually Jim due to how everyone just calls him Hopper, Hop, or Chief.

Even Flo doesn’t call him Jim when she’s mad, she just says ‘Hopper’ in that tone.

You’ve been dating each other for a while and you also only ever call him Hopper or Hop, Chief when you want to tease and rile him.

Tonight, though, you tease and rile him in a different way and you’re soon kissing, biting and pulling at each other, him pushing you towards the bedroom because he absolutely needs enough space to spread you out so he can devour every inch of you.

And you end up just like that, spread out underneath him, his cock, straining against his jeans, pressing against your covered, wet cunt.

Rocking his hips, he has you moaning in seconds, your hips rising up to meet his.

You know he’s good with his mouth, can swear like a sailor and argue anyone, but, God, he’s good with his mouth, kissing, licking and biting and your neck, jaw and throat, making you gasp and mewl and, fuck, he loves the sounds you make.

He loves how he can make your breaths ragged, your moans drawn out and loud, your gasps surprised and delighted. He loves when you groan, your teeth gritted, as the pleasure becomes almost overwhelming.

You’ve touched each other before, both with and without clothes, but you haven’t gone all the way yet. He won’t push you but—

‘… want you inside me, Hop, need your cock inside me, fuck…’

He doesn’t need fucking telling twice.

He has both of you naked in minutes, both of you impatient, grasping at each other.

He’s already stretched you out around his fingers, he knows you’re wet enough, ready for him.

Gripping his cock, he’ll meet your gaze, only pushing in to you after you nod, your arms around his neck.

Both of you close your eyes as he sinks into your slick heat, stretching you, filling you like, God, no one else ever has. As he fills you completely, you release a long, breathy moan.

Neither of you move for a few moments, feeling each other, feeling how you stretch and accommodate him like you were made for him. His face is pressed against yours, harsh, short breaths leaving him as he tries to keep still, waiting for you to say when it’s okay for him to start moving.

He doesn’t have to wait long.

Your hips start rocking as you let out little moans, and murmur, ‘Please, Hop, please, fuck me…’

And he does, striking up a hard, fast rhythm in seconds ‘cause you both need it that way.

Your nails are sinking into his shoulders as you mewl and gasp, the wet sound of you filing the air and spurring you both on.

His face is pressed into your neck, licking and kissing sloppily, one arm under you, holding you tight against him, the other above your head, supporting himself.

He’s pounding into you, his skin slapping against yours with every grunt he makes and you fucking love it. You can barely think, your senses overwhelmed, and you barely register that you say it.

‘Oh, God… Jim, fuck… Yes…’

Holy fuck. No one says his name. No one. But… it falling from your lips, with a moan, as he pounds into you… it sends him fucking wild.

It’s almost like the final barrier between you and him has come down, that you see him, you know him, you want him.

He holds you tighter, holding you so close against him, and he kisses and murmurs against your skin, ‘Feel so good, baby, feel so fuckin’ good, you’re fuckin’ perfect…’

And you are. To him, you’re the most fucking perfect human in the world.

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

Can I get some headcannons for a sick Hopper? Needing some lovins from his girl cus he's feeling like shit 💖 (tbw I friggin love your work. You quench the hopper THIRST) 😊

I am once again a humble gal apologising for how late this is!! Thank you so much, though!!

— 

right,,,

Many people would expect Hopper to be a bit of a baby when he gets sick.

They’d expect him to whine and moan and just tell everyone that he’s sick and be an absolute nightmare.

They’re right about the nightmare part.

But he goes the complete opposite way.

‘Hopper, you need to take a day off.’

‘No, I’m fine. See? I can breathe fine.’

‘Breathe out of your nose, then.’

‘... I have to go, I’m gonna be late for work.’

‘Hopper.’

It takes you, Flo and his officers ganging up on him to actually make him go home, but he won’t be happy about it. He’ll be grumbling the whole drive back, between sneezing and coughing.

Once home, you’ll make him change into something more comfortable, then make him sit on the couch.

As you’re making him a drink and something to eat, and checking what medicine you have, he’ll be leaning over and grabbing the phone and calling the Station.

‘Hawkins Police Sta—”

‘Flo, what’s goin’ on?’

‘... Rest, Hop’.’

Muttering under his breath after she hangs up, he’ll make himself eat what you’ve made for him, even though he can’t taste anything and he feels a little queasy but he will not admit that, and take what medication you give him just to keep you happy.

But his mind will be at work and he’ll be an absolute menace.

‘Who are you calling, Hop’?’

‘... Powell.’

‘Why.’

‘... Just wanna see how his day was.’

‘... Put the phone down.’

‘What are you reading, Hop’?’

‘Just a case-file that, hey, give that back.’

You have to watch him every single moment because otherwise he just won’t rest.

He’s a man who needs to keep his mind busy so he’ll either offer to help you with what you’re doing, however small it may be, which you’ll decline, or his leg will be bouncing up and down or his fingers will be tapping against the armrest, even if his entire body aches.

You know this so you’ll sit with him as much as you can, put something on the TV that will engage his brain a little, be that a cop show or a quiz show.

You don’t want to fuss over him, even though at any other time he’d love it, but when he’s sick it just makes him feel exactly how he feels; weak and helpless.

You’ll be mindful of that, though, so you’ll do your best to just attend to him subtly and make it into a little joke.

The only time he’ll really stop and rest and won’t grumble is when you’re lying on the couch with him, head on his shoulder or chest, his arm around you, with a blanket wrapped around you both, even if it’s just for him and you’re absolutely sweating.

You know you’ll have him, though, when he’ll mumble:

‘... shouldn’t be so close to me, you could get sick, too...’

You won’t tease him, though, knowing it’ll have taken quite a bit for him to actually say out loud he is, even if it’s in a vague, quiet way, so you’ll just smile and curl closer against him.

‘Just means we’d get more time together.’

He’ll smile to himself at that... then send a secret prayer up because, God, you’re a nightmare when you’re sick and you don’t admit it.

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

Hi! Would you be able to do a headcanon for Hopper asking you out on a date and the actual date? Thanks so much 💕

Apologies again for how late this is!!

Asking You Out

listen,,,,

Jim Hopper is a man who knows what he wants. He flat out says it most of the time.

When it comes to asking women out in Hawkins, because of his reputation, they know what to expect; you’re gunna fuck at the end of the night and it’s gunna be one of the best nights of your life.

But there’s a difference when it comes to Jim Hopper asking a woman out to get a drink, and him asking her out to get dinner.

drink = fuck

dinner = relationship

He knows you. Everyone in Hawkins knows everyone, to some degree. There’s only a handful of bars in the town so he’s always seeing you, and many a night he’s contemplated asking you out for a drink or seizing the night and buying you a drink now.

Tonight, he’s going to. He’s very much going to. In fact, he does. He goes up to where you are sat alone while your friend has gone to the bathroom, and clears his throat.

You turn your head, meet his gaze, and then he sees it.

The minute face you pull.

He ignores it, hey, no one really likes the Chief of Police coming up to talk to them even if he’s off duty.

You introduce yourselves, you being very polite, and engage in some small talk. He thinks he’s doing damn good, being very charming and suave, asking about your day, holding your gaze, trying to not too obviously undress you, and then… and then you pause, and sigh.

Giving a very polite smile, you say, ‘Look, Hopper, I think I’ll save you some time and just say that I’m not going to sleep with you. You’re nice, but, sorry, I think you’d have better luck elsewhere.’

He stares at you, stunned, quite frankly.

‘Right, okay…’

He really felt the gravity of it, then, his reputation. That women were just expecting him to ask them out for a fuck drink whenever he approaches, and that was the kind of man he’s seen as.

Well, he’d show ‘em.

‘… I was actually comin’ over to ask you out for dinner.’

It’s your turn to stare now, your lips parting.

Dinner. Dinner? Was that code for something now? You can’t remember the last time you’d heard that Jim Hopper had asked a woman out for dinner, and you know you’d remember it because it’s so damn rare.

You close your mouth, pause, then accept with a smile, because you just had to see how this was going to go, and figure out once and for all what kind of a man Jim Hopper is.

He nods, asks if tomorrow night is okay, which it is, and he says he’ll see you at Enzo’s at 7:30.

You say your goodbyes, and then he’s walking away, still stunned, and you stare at your drink as your friend returns.

‘Uh… What did I just miss?’

‘… I’m not quite sure.’

The Date

What the fuck is he doing.

He’s not interested in a relationship right now, he doesn’t want to burden anyone with what his life brings.

Which includes him.

Throughout the day leading up to it, he’s… nervous. Agitated. A touch more irritable than usual.

How does he even want this to go??

You won’t sleep with him, he’s made that clear, so… What? He’s just gonna have a meal with someone and get to know them?

Oh.

Like an actual date.

He’s there early, which is a miracle for him, but that’s mainly down to Flo finding out about it, as she always seems to do, and practically marching him out of the door to go home the moment his shift ends.

He figured he did want to impress you and show you he’s not an asshole, so he dressed nice, clean shirt and jacket, clean trousers, showered, washed and dried his hair, combed it and his beard.

Flo had made a reservation earlier in the day so he couldn’t back out with any kind of excuse and he sits at the table at 7:16, straightening his jacket and folding his long legs.

He orders a glass of wine for himself and water for the table, figuring you won’t mind if he gets started with just a drink, at least.

You arrive at 7:27 and he pauses as he watches you enter, his eyes managing to trail your body before snapping up to meet your gaze before you catch him.

You look fucking hot.

He rises from his seat as you near, smiling warmly and he pauses, slightly awkwardly, not knowing how you’ll want to greet him.

You kiss his cheek, which surprises him, and he just has a chance to lightly touch his hand on your back before you’re already drawing back and taking your seat, prompting him to take his.

Now he’s very fucking nervous, ‘cause you look even more beautiful than you did last night.

The waiter returns and you order a drink as he continues to look at you.

What the fuck are you gonna talk about? He’s not a great conversationalist, unless he knows what he’s working towards, oh, fuck you’re looking at him again.

Turns out, though, you are a great conversationalist.

Within minutes, he’s relaxing, laughing, even, with you as you tell him about your job, about your life, your hobbies, interests.

And he’s enraptured. He actually cares. He’s interested.

He even tells you about some parts of his life, making sure to keep it light, though, and he can’t believe you’re actually listening properly, seemingly hanging on his every word.

He’s almost annoyed when the meal finishes, even after you both have dessert and a third drink.

He insist on paying, and does, and as you walk out onto the street, you turn to him with a smile.

‘Well, I really enjoyed that.’

‘Me, too.’

And he fucking did. Every moment of it.

‘So… What happens next?’

He looks at your smile widening, our expectant expression, and…

You took a chance on him… and he’s not gonna let you regret it.

‘… You free tomorrow night?’

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

Hey I love your Jim Hopper hcs!!! Could you do some about jealous Hopper? Maybe with Mayor Kline hitting on the reader? Thank you!!!

Thank you so much, lovely!! I’m so sorry this is late!

as I’ve said before, Hop is not a jealous man.

He’s not. He deals with jealous assholes at work all the time, and he just hates it. Besides, he trusts you.

.................... uhm

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally get a little jealous, though, mainly because he can be a little insecure, in himself that is.

He can’t help but think every now and then, in a tiny corner of his mind, that he doesn’t deserve you, that you could do better. He can’t help it, he’s always been insecure, and after his divorce and you being his first proper relationship since then, it has just exacerbated it.

He hasn’t had those feelings in a loooong time, though. With your love and care, he’s worked through it, and trusts you completely.

And then came the fair.

He never used to attend it, but this year, when you’d come home from work with the leaflet, eye-wide, smile wide, he’d begrudgingly agreed to go.

When the day came, your excitement was kinda infectious, especially when you’d classed it as a date, so he’d dressed in his new, favourite, tropical shirt, washed and brushed his hair, and had nearly thrown you on the damn bed with what you’d dressed in.

You’d held hands in the Blazer as he drove, laughing and singing along to the radio, both of you the most relaxed you’d been in a long time. It was getting more and more rare these days that you get an evening off together and actually do something with it, though you’re also quite happy to sit on the couch and hold each other as you half watch something.

This is exciting, though, something different, something new, and who doesn’t love a fair?

Once he’d parked up, you’d gotten out and held hands again, your eyes wide at the lights and sounds and laughter. He’d taken a breath and, though it’s not particularly his scene, he seizes the opportunity to just spend time with you.

And he soon relaxes, his arm going around your shoulders, around your waist, his hand back in yours, laughing as you do, and trying his damn best to win you a damn toy. He excels on the coconut shy and the shooting games, winning you whatever you want. You’re both soon hungry, though, and you grab a free picnic table as he gets in the queue for food, his hands in his pockets.

A couple of people will talk to him in the line, and he’ll be polite and talk back, then Callahan will bump into him and talk his ear off while he eats cotton candy. Hop will half listen, nodding and humming and glancing over Callahan’s shoulder at you.

The fourth time he glances over his shoulder, he’ll see that you’re not alone.

Mayor Larry Kline.

Hop has... not much of a relationship with him. He has to meet every week or so with him of course to report on what’s going on in Hawkins and to just be seen to be doing so, really, Kline never really listens and just kind of waves him off as everything seems to be fine.

But even from the short meetings he’d had with him, Hop knows what kind of man Mayor Kline is; a sleaze.

He’s charming, handsome, witty, everything a successful politician is.

And Hop watches you laugh at something Kline says.

Watches the way Kline talks to you, engaged, animated, attentive, and it... it makes something twist a little inside him.

Hop knows who he is, and knows that you love him, he knows you do, but... sometimes he wishes he could be more for you, that he could hold a room, be charming like Kline and make you beam with pride. At seeing Kline with you, he forgets that you already do that when you see him.

Running a hand down his mouth and beard, he keeps his eyes fixed on you, Callahan still going on and on, oblivious.

Kline laughs charmingly at something you say... and rests a hand on your knee.

He’s too busy staring at the hand, that he doesn’t notice you tense slightly and try to shift it away as you laugh politely.

Then, Hop’s striding out of the queue, ignoring Callahan’s ‘what the hell?’s

You were sat on your own, smiling to yourself, so happy with how the evening was going, that you and Hop were getting to spend real quality time together, when you’d heard someone approach.

Getting ready to say no, the table is not free, you’d then met the gaze of Mayor Larry Kline.

You’d smiled automatically, wanting to be polite, and he’s the mayor, after all, and he’d returned it, charming as ever.

You’d heard from Hop that Kline had... an interest in woman who weren’t particularly his wife, so that had been ringing in your mind as he’d introduced himself and sat down. You’d never met him, but he knew you were Hop’s girlfriend so even more alarms had started ringing when he’d turned on the charm.

You just tried to be as polite as you could, though, because, again, he’s the mayor, and he wasn’t doing anything that overtly called for you to call him out, and hoped Hopper would be back soon.

‘Wow, you’ve won a lot today, huh?’

‘Oh, no, not me, my boyfriend, Hopper, Jim Hopper,’

‘Ah, yes, of course. It’s good, that you have a man like that to take care of you.’

‘Yes, I’m very happy with him.’

Everything you said, you tried to make it very clear you are happy with Hopper, but Kline either wasn’t getting or was ignoring the message.

‘I have a gala next week, you and Hop should come, I bet you’d be the belle of the ball.’

‘Oh, no, I don’t think so, I think your wife would outshine me.’

He laughs, his hand gently resting on your knee.

‘Oh, I don’t know, you may give her a run for her money.’

Oh my God.

You laugh, politely, and try and shift your knee away, and you’re about to politely remind him of his wedding vows when Hop is suddenly there at your side, his hand settling on your back.

Kline smiles brightly, charmingly, as he looks at him.

‘Hopper! So good to see you—’

‘Yeah, whatever, pal, can you get your hand off my girl’s knee.’

Kline stares at him as you stare at Kline, your lips twitching.

‘... Oh, I was just—’

‘Hand. Off.’

Kline’s hand comes off your knee instantly and he laughs, albeit rather nervously this time, and gets to his feet, straightening his suit.

‘Just a misunderstanding, Hopper, I assure you—’

‘Yeah, I bet, you have a nice night with your wife, Kline.’

Kline’s smile is forced, fixed, and you’re biting at your lower lip to hide your own smile.

‘Well, I... Good evening, have a great night, both of you.’

Hopper watches him walk away until he hears your throat clear. Looking down at you, he finds you grinning.

‘My girl’, huh’?’

‘Well, you are, aren’t you?’

‘Oh...’

Rising to your feet, your smirk wide, your arms go around his neck as you look at him.

‘... Yes, I am.’

His own arms go around your waist, a low hum coming from him.

‘Think I might need to remind a few people of that.’

‘Chief...’

‘Shut up and come here...’

Your laugh will be muffled by his lips descending on yours, and with a single kiss, Hopper will remind everyone in the vicinity that you are his, and he is yours.

—

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[flamehairedwritings]

Hey JJ! If you’re still doing the angst prompts, can you please write #100 with Hopper? Thank you!

Hello, lovely! I’m so sorry this is so late! This is a lil angsty drabble based on the prompt, “You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.”, which will be in bold. It includes cheating accusations and swearing.

─

“You’re being ridiculous─”

“What the fuck did you just call me?!”

“Oh, come on, just be reasonable and─”

“’Reasonable’? Fucking ‘reasonable’?!”

You don’t think you’ve ever been so angry in your life. You’re staring at Hopper in your living room, your arms raised, hands palms up, teeth gritted, and he’s just stood there, practically nonchalant, treating you like a child.

“Yes, reasonable.”

“Oh, right, so, I’m meant to be reasonable when you took Emma Delaney into your office, with the blinds down, and closed the door?!”

He sighs, a hand on his hip as his other hand rubs at his eyes. “It’s not what you think.”

You laugh, humourlessly. “Oh, right, yeah, sure, you didn’t fuck her in your office, then?”

Hopper’s jaw moves as he pauses. It’s all you need.

“Oh, you fucking bastard, you are─”

“No, no,” he quickly says, taking a step towards you but you immediately take one back, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks.

“Flo walked in and saw her stood with her hands on your chest! She was touching you! I know you’ve fucked her before, before me, how can─”

“No,” he quickly interjects again, in pain at how hurt you look, “What I meant to say was...” He exhales a breath. “... She... Yes, we did, before you, but we didn’t today, baby, I promise you. She came in because she’s been having trouble with her boyfriend and she needs help and she needed some comfort so I hugged her, that’s it.”

Your arms are wrapped tightly around yourself as you stare at him, tears still falling. You take in a shuddering breath, your face warm. “... Why didn’t you just fucking tell me that, then, Hopper?”

He shakes his head as he takes another tentative step towards you, then another when you don’t move this time. “She asked me not to tell anyone but... I should have when you got the wrong idea, I’m so sorry...” He reaches you, his hands resting lightly on your back as your chin trembles. “I didn’t want to snap back but... I love you, sweetheart. You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to. I hate that you’d think I’d cheat on you. I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel like I wouldn’t.”

Wiping at your eyes, you inhale a breath. “No, it’s just... I know there were women before me and... Sometimes when I have to see them every day it just, I just get uncomfortable. I know that’s irrational, I’m sorry─”

“No, no, it’s okay...” He’s stroking your back gently, sighing. “Sometimes when I see Darryl Sanderson look at you I want to snap his little twig fingers.”

You laugh, if a little thickly through your tears, and lean into his embrace, your cheek resting against his chest. “All right, all right...”

Pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his arms settle around you as he murmurs, “I am sorry, baby.”

“I know,” you whisper, “Me, too. And I love you, too.”

You don’t want to go on. You don’t want to tell him that every single time he’s with another woman something tightens in your chest. You knew his reputation when he’d asked you out, but once you’d gotten serious you thought you were past the insecurities and wondering. You’ve never thought you were a jealous person, but... You can’t help it. Can’t help that you see the way women look at him, hungry, reimagining or imagining.

Your arms wrap around him as you close your eyes.

You love him, you love him with all your heart, but... sometimes thoughts invade your mind and insecurities come up, and you can’t help but assume the worst.

─

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Tagged: @herb-welch, @pascalispedro @davidkharboursex, @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,  @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari, @thejealousorchard, @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @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, @my-rosegold-soul @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @notsomellowmushroom, @geordiequeen, @gothackedalready

Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!

[flamehairedwritings]

What would happen if Hop’s girlfriend wanted him to give reading Pride and Prejudice a try?

Apologies for the v long delay!! Fun fact, this was sent to me whilst I was writing An Affair of Importance. 

“You read that a lot.”

“Yeah, it’s one of my favourites.”

“… Maybe I should give it a try, see what all the talk is about.”

Your eyes light up and he knows he has to now. Besides, he always takes an interest in what you like and do anyway, and wants to be somewhat part of it so you can discuss it and he can share some of your excitement.

But a book… He can’t remember the last time he read anything that wasn’t a story in a newspaper or a crime thriller from the thrift store.

You’ll hand the book straight over to him, turn onto your side and close your eyes. He, meanwhile, will turn to the first page and start to read.

Only a few pages, he’ll think.

Two chapters later and he’s having to force himself to close it and go to sleep.

He’ll take it to work, reading a few chapters over his lunch break.

Callahan and Powell will raise their eyebrows but Hopper’ll just sit back and keep his attention on the page; ‘you guys give it a try before you judge’.

And they do. Soon, there’s a mini, unofficial book club set up.

‘Darcy is such an ass.’

‘Yeah, but only because he’s been burned before, man, he’s cynical because he knows how shitty life is.’

‘Yeah, but it doesn’t mean he has to be shitty to people.’

‘Sounds like someone I know.’

… ‘Get back to work, asshole.’

You’ll both be sat together in the evenings, you either reading another book or watching TV, and your gaze will slide over to him every few minutes as he reads it, elbow on the armrest, his fist pressed against his mouth, his brow furrowed slightly.

Sometimes he’ll mutter under his breath;

‘Damn right…’

‘Oh, you bastard…’

‘Huh…’

You get into bed one night as he’s finishing it, his eyes darting across the page, and your eyes will be closed and you’ll almost be asleep when you hear him close it.

There’s a pause. Then…

‘Baby…’

‘Hmm?’ Cracking an eye open, you’ll look at him, a slight frown on his features.

Then he’ll launch into his review and asking questions; it’ll be half-ranting, half-awe.

‘… that son of a bitch, Wickham, what a fuckin’ asshole, if I was Mr Bennet I’d have gone after him with a damn shotgun…’

‘… Do I remind you of Darcy? Powell made a comment, and I don’t know if it’s a compliment or an insult…’

‘… I think Mary’s gonna go on to great things, she and Mr Bennet were the only ones with their damn heads screwed on… Then again they didn’t, in their own special ways…’

‘… Lizzie, what a gal…’

You’ll lie on your side, a smile lingering on your lips the whole time because you did it, you got the grumpy bastard to finally read and now he likes one of the greatest stories of all time… and he’ll finally get your references.

Reblogs, comments and likes make my day in a way I can’t describe.

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Masterlist

Tagged: @herb-welch, @pascalispedro @davidkharboursex, @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,  @heyjudeinthesky, @sleepylunarwolf, @ambeazyyy, @countryfire22, @sithlordslut, @mondsafari, @thejealousorchard, @norcula, @earinafae, @beltzboys2015-blog, @jinxiejenna, @justsimplevicky, @hellosupernaturaldoctor, @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, @madkskillz, @im-not-great-at-making-up-names, @sergeantangel, @bitchinsinclair, @dewy-biitch, @focusonspn, @wearethebrokenones, @sarcasm-is-my-native-tounge, @thatprettymvthafvcka, @pulplorrd, @gifsbysimplysonia, @notsomellowmushroom

Apologies to those Tumblr won’t let me tag!