#david harbour imagine

[piratesfromspace]

Brandy & Gingerbread (Nick 'Santa'/Reader)

Nick 'Santa Claus' (Violent Night) x fem!Reader Rated: Explicit 1.2k words

Nicomund the Red and the Tooth Fairy meet again on Christmas day. Fluff and smut ensue.

This is my Christmas gift for @gipsydangerzone 💖

Content: mention of food and alcohol, implied violence, magic healing, Santa Claus kink (is that a thing?), smut, thigh riding, Christmas fluff, fem!reader, established relationship. This happens just after the end of the movie. Look at me expanding on the lore of this Christmas masterpiece that is Violent Night.

MASTERLIST

gif by nick-offerman

“Well, well, what do we have here? Isn’t that the Tooth Fairy herself?” The familiar gravelly voice has you shiver before you even see him.

“What are you doing here?” he continues as you swirl back to face him. Here he is. In all his glory, red velvet and white fur and the gray of his fluffy beard. Gold sparks of magic still floating around him.

“Nick! Nice to see you again! How am I doing? Fine, thanks for asking!” you answer sharply.

He seems unbothered by your sarcastic greetings.  “You know it’s actually my night, right, sweetheart?” he croons, taking a step toward you.

“Well, it happens that the kid in this house lost a tooth today, so it’s also my night. I work all year round, Nicomund, I’m not some lazy old man who manages to complain while doing shit for most of the year.” you snap back. 

“Oof, darling, no need to be so mean. You don’t want to end on my naughty list, don’t you?” He takes one step further, crossing slowly but surely the length of the living room. The place is cozy, old fireplace but modern floor, new sofa but vintage quilts. The tall christmas tree is a real one and it smells like pine and spice and sugar. Like Christmas. Fairy lights spread across the place bathe the room in a soft warm glow. Seeing him in such a decor, it feels like a freaking cheesy Holiday movie. Except you know him, know what he’s capable of, and he’s far from the lazy old man you accuse him to be. 

“Well, I don’t have time to play games Nick, so unless you’ve lost a tooth yourself, I have to go.” you don’t sound as sure of yourself as you’d like. That’s his fault, he unsettles you, makes you dream of domesticity, of chocolate and marshmallows, of cuddles in front of the fire, of all those soft other things you don’t have time to indulge in. 

“Oh sweetie, you won’t believe me, because actually I’m afraid I’ve lost a couple teeth earlier tonight.” He rasps, and behind the sirupy lull of his low voice, you notice for the first time the thin hint of pain. Now that he’s closer, you actually take the time to really look at him. There is a split on his right cheekbone, specks of dried blood on his jaw, spots of red on the white fur of his collar. His usual stupid hat is absent, and his hair hastily tied up in a bun. The tiny round glasses are nowhere to be seen. His sleeves are bunched up, showing off the dark swirls of ink under his skin, meeting the blue-black of fresh bruises. 

“Nick, what happened…?”

Flashbacks of wars long lost invade your mind. Nicomund the Red and his hammer. Bathed in blood and mud and death. The stench of it clinging to the inside of your nose for days after the battles. Ears ringing with the screams of your dying enemies for countless nights. Your own sword covered in gore. 

“Hey, you with me, sweetheart?” Nick’s hand lands on your shoulder and you’re suddenly brought back to your senses. To now, to the cozy living room and the smell of Christmas candles. He’s the one injured, yet he focuses on you. It’s not the first time. It’s been going on for millenia now.

“It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” he adds now that he has your attention. 

“What about you?” he asks, and he cups your cheek, eyes the color of iron - moody skies - scanning your face. His palm is hot, rough pads against your delicate skin. You circle his wrist and nod in reassurance. He said he was fine but you can’t miss how he flinches under your touch, a muffled groan of discomfort escaping him. 

“You’re still a bad liar, you know that, Nick? Let me see. My magic may help.”

He sits on the sofa, large thighs slightly open and strong feet on the ground, while you’re perched on one of his legs. You had opened his jacket, and traced his naked chest in search of every cut and bruise, blue sparks at the tip of your fingers, healing them on your way. You remember doing the same thing a very long time ago, when you both did not have your magic yet. It’s intimate. Weirdly familiar. His warm body under yours strangely soothing. 

You push the jacket even lower, revealing his broad shoulders, hard muscles under the soft curves of his body. Runes and sacred symbols itched in his skin, reminding you of home. You shift on top of him to reach his back and powerful hands fly up to your waist to help you keep your balance. The heat of him warms up your core, and you find yourself not wanting to leave his embrace. 

Once you’re mainly done, you sit back, and stare at his face. His hands are still on your waist, burning where they meet the sliver of bare flesh between your top and pants. It’s unconscious, your body reacting on its own, but you ground yourself on his leg, your cunt pressing against his thigh in search of something you’ve denied yourself for too long. He notices of course - arched brow and knowing smile - and the iron of his irises melt to a deep night blue. Your fingertips ghost over the crinkle at the corner of his eyes, smooth over the silver strands of his beard, just enough time for you to gather your courage and finally take the bait of his lips. 

You press delicate kisses on his mouth, until he parts his lips. He tastes like gingerbread and brandy and it pairs surprisingly well. Nick keeps kissing you and strengthens his hold on you, brings you down on his thigh and flexes the muscle. He drinks your sudden gasp with a low chuckle. Bastard. 

“You like this, mmh? Come on, take what you need my little fairy.” he whispers in your neck, his beard tickling your skin and making you giggle softly. He repeats his move, encouraging you to find your own rhythm. Warmth builds and builds between your legs, you can feel how wet you’re becoming while you seek the delicious friction of his thigh against your swollen flesh. 

Nick is drowning you in filthy praises between two deep kisses, tongue tasting the roof of your mouth like you’re a sugary treat. Your hands are buried in his long hair, yanking him to you when he dares to leave too much space between you two. You’re close but it’s not yet enough, and you wish he would give you more, let you open his pants and really ride him. 

It’s like he can read in your mind - you don’t understand how the whole wish thing works, maybe he is - and he rises from the couch, holding you in his arms in an impressive display of strength, before he spins and lays you back down on the sofa, landing on top of you. 

“I guess you deserve a gift too sweetheart, you work so hard, it’s your turn to be taken care of.” He dips his head, kisses you once again, and there’s a devotion and a passion that wasn’t there a moment earlier. He smiles against your lips and his voice is like molten chocolate, decadent and rich: “Merry Christmas” he rasps, before sliding lower and bringing down your pants with him.

#nicomund the red #david harbour #david harbour x reader #david harbour imagine #david harbour fanfiction #santa claus #santa claus fanfiction #santa claus x reader #daddy christmas #violent night #violent night fanfiction #nick x reader #christmas fluff #holiday shenanigans

[parkert01]

Thirst Tweets - Jim Hopper

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

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

"Jim Hopper is such a dilf. Send tweet"

"Jim Hopper has always been so hot"

"Jim Hopper, ur so hot"

"Jim Hopper = hot"

"Jim Hopper makes dad bods look hot"

"Hopper needs to rail me"

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

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

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

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #david harbour #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #hopper x reader #david harbour x reader #david harbour x you #stranger things x reader #david harbour imagine #jim hopper imagine #hopper stranger things #david harbour x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[storiesforallfandoms]

small ~ jim hopper;stranger things

word count: 1958

request?: yes!

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

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

pairing: jim hopper x female!reader

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

masterlist (one, two)

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

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

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

Not to mention she’s cute.

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

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

“Hard day, chief?” she asked.

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

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

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

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

“Really? Would I know him?”

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

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

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

“Nice?” I offered.

She chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I chuckled. “Okay, touché.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It does. Eventually, it goes.”

“Do you have any kids, Jim?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I wanted to be alone with you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

#jim hopper #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper x reader #david harbour #david harbour x reader #david harbour imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #one shot #request #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[creedslove]

CUM PLAY WITH HOPPER - HEADCANON

Repost from 2019 - my own work

Season 3 Chief Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Summary: headcanons on how Hopper views cum play

Warning: filthy dirty shameless smut

°°°

• Hopper and cum play… where do I start? 

• Oh yeah, our man Jim Hopper LOVES cum play 

• He is indeed very possessive of his little girl, so having her soaked and dripping with his cum is definitely something that brings him great pleasure 

• It can be something discreet between the two of you 

• Or something very dirty like you having to be covered in his cum in public 😏 

• When you blow or jerk him off, Hopper loves to cum in your mouth, it is just so dirty to see his sweetheart swallowing his cum it is enough to spark a hint of his arousal again 

• But he likes seeing you dripping, remember that 

• So when he cums all over your face it feels like heaven 

• And ohhh your tits too, it drives him insane to see your hard nipples covered in his hot juices 

• But he is very respectful, so he'll avoid shooting his seed into places you don't like to, for example your hair, in case it does bother you 

• He enjoys when you taste his pre cum too!! It turns him on A LOT 

• Hop also likes to cum on your ass, especially after a few spankings so he'll see your reddened flesh receiving his load 

• And also cum into your asshole, so you can clench it around his thick juices and they'll drip down your pussy and thighs 

• Ohhhh speaking of that, Hop likes to spread your pussy lips wide and cum inside of it, right into your hole 

• So he'll either tell you to clench it tight so you'll keep it inside of you 

• Or he'll demand you to rub it all over or clit and use it as lubricant to touch yourself for him 

• If he wants to keep dominance, he definitely cums into your panties and makes you wear them warm and wet with his honey so you'll remember you belong to him 💕 

___

#chief jim hopper x reader #chief jim hopper imagine #chief jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper #hopper x reader #hopper imagine #hopper #stranger things x reader #stranger things #david harbour x reader #david harbour imagine #david harbour

[deadpoolgirl23]

This just popped into my head but imagine Santa telling you to go to his "workshop" infront of the elves and they don't think much of it cause it's jolly old saint Nick but in reality his "workshop" is a locked room that you and him only have a key too, that's filled with holiday sex toys and depending on if you were being naughty or nice is how you would get treated in there.

#david harbour #violent night #santa harbour #santa harbour x reader #david harbour smut #david harbour imagine

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Christmas Imagine: santa waiting for you while he waits he has a candycane

Look at him!!

#fandom imagine #imagine #fandom #25 days of christmas #david harbour imagine #david harbour #violent night #violent night imagine #santa

[stvolanis]

Don’t Wanna Grow Up.

( one shot )

PAIRINGS: Rockstar! OC X Mean! Jim Hopper

WARNINGS: guys Hopper is really mean in this, small plot, OC is in a band (corroded coffin), she’s Eddie’s best friend/step-sister, age gap (OC is 19 and hops in his 40s), dubcon, drinking, usual rockstar things, OC is also kinda an asshole,nice jim at the end, hop being a cop (that rhymed lol)

NSFW INCLUDES: anal play, degradation (slut, brat, bitch), spitting, (hard) slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, breath play, power play, size kink, manhandling, choking, oral (m receiving), praising (if you squint), heavy sir kink, humiliation, public sex (parking lot), p in v sex, overstimulation, cum eating, SORRY IF I MISSED ANYTHING<3

Istg I got horny while writing this so I hope y’all enjoy !!<3

please lmk if you guys are interested in a part 2!!

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

the night was lively and booming in the small town of Hawkins, Indiana. It was a big contrast to the usual boring nights that the locals were used to, and it was surely a huge difference for on-duty chief of police, Jim Hopper.

Rowdy teens were one thing, but full grown adults plus teenagers being loud and obnoxious was not how hopper wanted to spend his night. Of course the big commotion would only mean one thing, lots of paperwork and phone calls.

It was a Tuesday night. A school night. A work night, even. What could have possibly caused all this up roar in the town? This much disruption and constant noise complaint phone calls from a small, quiet and local bar were unusual. But, nonetheless, the chief loaded up in his cruiser and made quick work of heading to the busy bar.

Jim could hear the faint blaring music from down the road, much to his dismay. As he pulled in and got out of his car, slamming the door shut, he quickly took notice of the locals stumbling out of the bar drunkenly, hollering only god knows what as he watched one fall into a bush. It was gonna be a long night.

Hopper walked into the noisy bar and was instantly met with the smell of strong alcohol and must coming from the sweaty bodies dancing around in the crowd. Unfortunately, he could also smell the lingering remanence of throw up, cause his face to crinkle up in disgust. Suddenly, the bright stage that was flashing every color under the sun caught his attention.

Of course she would be what was causing all of this nonsense.

Blood red hair sticking up in all kinds of directions bounced up and down while singing wildly. One of her dainty, fishnet covered hands in the air as her other held a microphone. The deep red lipstick she was wearing was slightly smeared, as was her eyeliner and mascara. Her honey brown eyes peering over the crowd with a wicked smile dancing on her lips at the mess she’s stirred. The lead singer of Corroded Coffin, Cherrie.

A Highschool drop-out who was on the upcoming charts with her band, soon to be leaving the small town to start touring across America for a hefty price. A delinquent since she became friends with the Munson boy, who she’d met in the 5th grade after she stabbed him in the thigh with her pink pencil.

Cherrie was a force to be reckoned with, and Hop can’t even count on his fingers anymore how many times she’d spent the night in the county jail either high out of her mind or drunk on gin. She’d spent her whole life in and out of the system, till Eddie Munsons uncle, Wayne, decided he’d take her in. Her love for music started when she’d stumbled across Eddie’s massive music collection. Once Eddie got his guitar and she had a microphone in her hand, the rest was history.

The band started off as something they did for fun with their friends, but then it turned into something they couldn’t even imagine. Once their producer released their first album, it went flying off the shelves after about a lingering week of nothing. Before they knew it, they were ushered to go on tour in 2 weeks times. Cherrie always felt she was destined for more than the small town had to offer, but she could never quite place it till now. She had wanted an escape for as long as she can remember, and now that she finally had one, she wouldn’t be coming back anytime soon.

The small town she lived in seen the worst in her, even the ones who were much worse than her. The difference between them was that she wasn’t afraid to show it. She didn’t need to put up a facade for people, because they’d always just see her as the burnt out Highschool drop out. But when she was on stage, it was like she was on top of the world. For once, the people who’d whisper terrible things about her and spread ugly rumors were looking up at her and cheering their hearts out. It was a nice change. It was a euphoric feeling.

Cherrie was no stranger when it came to the male gaze, as she’d dealt with it since she was only about 14. It’s always made her uncomfortable, for sure, but after a while she’d learned how to use it to her advantage. So it was no surprise when she’d tried attempt to seduce Jim Hopper a few months prior when he’d threaten to lock her up for good. She’d ended up spending the night in a jail cell. Ever since then, Jim’s felt uneasy around the ball of fire. Almost afraid she’d pounce at any moment on him.

But right now, it was almost as if he was in a trance as he watched her body move enchantingly. The lighting made her deep olive skin appear more vibrant, and hopper could see the sweat dripping down her chest and into her open cleavage. She wore a tight strapless corset that was laced and a small mini skirt that was so short, he was sure if she turned around he’d be able to see her ass. The fishnets that adorned her arms and legs had skulls embroidered onto them, but hopper could still see her colorful Paul Stanley star-man tattoo on the side of her thigh.

The choker she wore had protruding spikes on it and the chains she wore along with it complimented her slim neck. Hopper instinctively locked his dry lips as he stared at her for a moment longer before their eyes connected, and he felt the hairs on his arm stand up and his back straighten.

Cherrie watched Hopper walked to the side of the stage with furrowed eyebrows as he unplugged Eddie’s amp and the strobe lights, effectively making everyone let out noises of confusion and annoyance. Cherrie rolled her eyes and groaned as she dropped the mic onto the ground angrily before hopping off of the stage, pushing her way through the crowd to get to Jim. Eddie was hot on her tail, trying to calm down the fire he could’ve swore he saw in her eyes begin to spark, but he was soon lost in the crowd as he called out to her.

“What the fuck are you doing, shithead?!” Cherrie yelled out as she stood in front of Jim. “Doin’ my job, Cherrie. But you always gotta make it harder f’me, huh?” He huffed out with annoyance as he pushed past her towards the crowd of rowdy people.

“Everyone out! Right now, unless you’d like to spend the night with me at the station.” He yelled to the crowd, who quickly dispersed. Many sending Hopper ugly glances, but he was too over everything to care. “No, this is my scene, why’d you have to come fuck it up?!” She said with a groan as she stood chest to chest with him, though she was much smaller than him.

“Noise complaints, from multiple people.” He replied dryly. “Why can’t you just stay out of trouble for 2 fuckin’ minutes, is it that hard?” He added with a scoff. Cherrie didn’t process what happened as she felt her fist connect with his cheek, wincing as she rubbed her knuckles before slowly looking back up at an angry chief.

“Shit—Wait—” she muttered as she tried backing away from him, but Hop wasn’t having it. He harshly gripped her upper arm before slamming her front into the wall. “Cmon, yknow I didn’t mean to.” She said as she tried to wiggle free from his tight hold. “Shut up, brat.” He replied through clenched teeth as he snapped his cuffs onto her wrists.

“Ow!” She shouted as the cuffs tightened around her wrists painfully. Hop ignored her please as he dragged her out of the now almost empty bar. Eddie was by his van as he watched Cherrie get taken out in handcuffs with a shake of his head and a frown. “M’ sorry, Eds!” She shouted to him across the parking lot with a shrug of her shoulders. Eddie sighed as their band loaded up their belongings into his car.

Hopper pushed her forward towards the car. “We ain’t stoppin’ for chit-chat.” He grumbled under his breath. Cherrie merely rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Asshole.” She muttered under her breath. Hopper gripped her wrists in the cuffs tighter and he watched as she winced in pain. “What was that? Hm?” He muttered lowly in her ear.

She could feel his warm breath against the shell of her ear, and that’s all it took for her body to feel like it’s on fire. His grip on her wrists and the way she could feel his crotch area brush against her ass as they walked to the car from how close they are had her body on edge. She bit her lip as he opened the backseat door for her before roughly shoving her in and slamming the door shut.

Hopper got in his seat and fumbled with his keys with a huff before starting his cruiser. “Yknow you’re kinda hot when you’re mad to me, chief.” Cherrie giggled as she batted her lashes. Hopper eyed her through the rearview mirror, his eyes briefly trailing down to her open cleavage that was now free of sweat before rolling his eyes and adjusting the mirror to see better behind him, but really it’s just so his boner wouldn’t further harden from the sight of her in cuffs in his back seat.

Cherrie giggled lightly as she made herself comfortable in the backseat as Jim began driving to the police station. And then an idea hit her. “Yknow, I always thought you were a pretty shitty cop.” She said aloud as she looked out the window with a smirk. “Excuse me?” Hopper said, taken slightly aback.

“You heard me. I don’t even know you you became chief—I mean, aren’t you always drinking on the job? Yet you wanna make me seem like I’m the worst person ever.” She scoffed out with an eye roll. Hopper slammed on the breaks, making Cherrie hurl forward, hitting the head rest with a loud ‘thud’.

“Shit—what the fuck, Hop?!” She yelled out with furrowed brows. Jim’s breathing was erratic and hit fists were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. “Yeah? You think I’m a shitty cop? Alright, y’little bitch.” He muttered with a dark chuckle as he drove into an empty parking lot that was some what hidden behind trees.

“What’re you doin? you aren’t gonna kill me are you?” Cherrie giggled, feigning fear. Hopper didn’t respond as he parked the car and swung his door open, quickly opening Cherries too. “Hey—” she started, but was cut off when hopper gripped her upper arm tightly, yanking her out of her seat and onto the ground. Cherrie sat on her knees in front of the cop, looking up at him through her thick lashes.

“Y’gonna hurt me, Hop?” She challenged with raised brows and a taunting smirk. Hoppers hand harshly made contact with the side of her cheek, roughly slapping her, making her head spin to the side as a stinging pain overtook her cheek. Cherrie whimpered lightly, making Hopper chuckle. “Thought this was what you wanted, brat.” He said tauntingly as he gripped her hair, making her look up at him.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen—” he started . “Y’gonna suck my cock like a good girl n then I’m gonna fuck that tight little cunt until I’m through with you, n maybe your ass if I feel like it. You’ve been a little bitch all night so don’t expect to fucking cum, y’hear me?” He stated as he peered down at her. Cherrie felt her pussy begin to ache with need, but this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. She wasn’t supposed to actually want him the way she does now.

Cherrie nodded and Hopper slapped her once again, but on her other cheek. “Words, slut.” He spit out. Cherrie moaned at the slap, making hopper chuckle. “Yes, sir.” She muttered as she bit down on her lip. Jim groaned at the name. “Good girl.” He praised as he began to unzip his pants, letting them fall to his knees.

Cherrie could see his large bulge and a small wet patch where his tip is that’s seeping through. “M’gonna teach you how to suck cock properly, little girl.” He said as he let his hard cock spring free, long and so thick. A vein ran along the underside of it and Cherries mouth watered at the sight, but she wasn’t gonna let up so easily. “S’ not gonna fit in my mouth. Don’t want it to.” She said.

“I don’t give a fuck, you act like a brat n’ you get treated like one.” He said as he slapped his cock against the side of her cheek with a smirk. He soon forced Cherries mouth open with his thumb and shoved his throbbing member down her throat without warning, making her gag aloud. Cherrie could feel her eyes watering as his cock hit the back of her throat with no mercy. It was getting hard to breathe, and it didn’t help when the mean man above her pinched her nose shut as he held his cock in the back of her throat with a loud groan.

After a few seconds he let her nose go and she released his throbbing dick, gasping for air, hee chest heaving. “Please—” she begged through breaths of air. Jim quickly shoved his cock back down her throat that was now becoming unbearably sore, along with her jaw. She moaned around his cock as she began to grind her sopping cunt against the chiefs freshly polished boots.

Hopper felt his end coming near at the sight it. “Look at you— h-humping my boot l-l-like a bitch in heat.” He moaned at through clenched teeth as he watched her mascara and eyeliner run down her cheeks from her tears that he caused. The way she feverishly humped against his boot harder after his comment made him cum down her throat with a groan and a string of ‘fuckkk, just like that’ and ‘so fuckin good’.

Cherries senses were overwhelmed as she tasted him down her throat and on her tongue. Salty, but not bitter. Hopper slightly pulled out and released the rest of his cum on her tongue that was hanging outside of her mouth with a satisfied moan. Cherrie made quick work of swallowing his generous load. “Whaddya say, baby?” He mocked.

“Thank you for your cum, sir.” Cherrie said as she gripped at his leg, her panty covered pussy still dripping on his boot. “Needy little girl, aren’t you, Cherrie?” He asked as he clicked his tongue. She nodded and muttered a small ‘yes, sir’ as he surprisingly, gently pulled her up from the ground. Hopper gripped Cherries throat and pulled her face close to his, just enough to where their lips were brushing against each other.

“‘M gonna fuck you so good.” He muttered, and Cherrie groaned as he lips finally crashed with his. The kiss was messy and heated, and their teeth clashed together as did their tongues. They fought for dominance, but Jim over powered her as his tongue danced with hers. “Fuckkk, y’taste so good.” He groaned against her as his grip on her slim throat tighten just above her spiked choker that he adored so much on her.

He opened her mouth before spitting into it, his boner growing larger as he watched her swallow it obediently. It was just something about making her go from a bratty, loud, rude and arrogant little girl to a submissive, hot mess with not much to say now that made Jim Hopper go absolutely fucking feral. The need to be inside of her hurled into his senses as he dragged her to the front of his cruiser, bending her over the hood.

Jim got down onto his knees, now eye level with her wet, fishnet covered baby pink panties with lace on the trim of it. “So cute, baby.” He muttered as he kissed the flesh of her ass before gripping both cheeks in his large hands. He pressed his nose into her panties and inhaled her scent deeply, his dick throbbing at the smell of her arousal. Cherrie whimpered as his nose brushed against her aching clit as she tried to wiggle her pussy even closer to his face.

Hopper chuckled at his needy girl and licked a long stripe over her panties. Cherrie let out a pornographic moan as he sucked her panty covered clit into his mouth. “Please, sir, ‘m sorry for bein’ a bad girl, need you so bad. promise I’ll be good.” She whined out as her eyes began to water again.

“Since you asked so nicely f’me, whore.” He said as though he were pondering it. He stood up and easily towered over the small girl bent over the hood of his car as he ripped her fishnets big enough to wear he could push her panties to the side. He groaned as he watched her slick drip out of her pussy and down her thighs. “Hop, my fishnets..” she muttered breathlessly.

“I’ll buy you new fishnets, baby, whatever you want.” He muttered as leaned over and kissed her shoulder. He slapped her ass, once, twice, just to watch it jiggle against the impact before spreading her ass once again to get a better view of her pussy. “So wet..” he murmured to himself as he slapped her gently slapped her cunt, making her let out a soft groan.

Hopper aligned his massive cock to her entrance and pushed in forcefully before pausing for a moment to get the smaller girl used to his size. Her cunt squeezed around him in a vice grip, almost painfully as he hissed. Cherrie moaned as she felt him fill her small cunt to the brim, kissing her cervix. She could feel him throbbing inside of her, begging to move.

“Please, sir—” she started, and Jim wasted no time in pulling out just to slam back into her again, causing Cherrie to let out a gasp. Hopper began pounding into the red haired girl, one of his hands gripping her wrists that were still in handcuffs while the other harshly smacked her ass hard enough to leave a deep red hand print, making Cherries eyes water.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she moaned out loud ‘uhs’ each time he slammed back into her. As his pace began to gradually increase, the sweaty sound of skin slapping together could be heard throughout the parking lot and Jim felt like he was on cloud 9. Her cunt was so warm and tight. Almost as if she were a virgin.

Hop imagined her stomach swollen and her breasts enlarged and swollen with milk. How she’d become domesticated and obedient, much to his pleasure. He imagined her whimpers and moans as he’d fondle her nipples and squeezed the bundle of nerves just to watch the milk come out of them.

His hips slammed into hers harder and faster, taking Cherries breath away as her moans were uncontrollable and throat sore. Her mind was blank and all she could think about was the way he was filling her up. “Like the way I fuck you, hm? Stuffin’ this little pussy just the way you like.” The older man said as he threw his head back with a loud moan.

God, she loved how vocal he was. It made her pussy clench around him as she felt her orgasm approaching. “Sir—‘m gonna cum, gonna cum, oh my god—” she moaned out, her voice a higher pitch as she whined at the stimulation. Hopper sounded almost animalistic as he let out a what sounded close to a growl. “I told you you’re not gonna fuckin’ cum, you hear me?” He said through pants. Cherrie could tell he was being serious, but she just couldn’t hold it.

“please, ‘m sorry, sorry, I c—ca—can’t hold it.” She gasped out as her mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape as her orgasm slammed into her. Cherrie squirted all over Jim’s lower body, making him let out a groan. “Fuckkk..” he groaned out again. Cherrie thought Hopper would let up since she’d already came, but it seemed like the man had other plans.

Her pussy was so sensitive as he continued his brutal thrusts in and out with no remorse to her aching cunt. “please—stop, I can’t—“ she begged loudly as she tried to push her cuffed hands against his lower stomach, weakly trying to push him away from her but failing miserably. “No, you wanted to cum so you’re gonna fuckin cum for me as many times as I tell you to.” He said as he watched her ass jiggle each time his hips hit hers.

Hopper moved his hand that was around her wrist to her ass cheek, spreading it before spitting down into her puckered hole. He used his thumb to smear around his saliva before he slowly pushed it in, making Cherrie hiss out in pain. “This is what little girls who don’t listen get. They get their assholes used and violated.” He said with a chuckle as he began to fuck her tight ass with his thumb.

Broken moans left her throat as she felt herself go cross eyed, body shaking at the stimulation of her clit dragging against the hood of the car with each violent thrust delivered to her over-used cunt, paired with his thumb fucking into her ass made her orgasm quickly approach again.

“Sir, ‘m gonna cum, please let me cum, please, please, please!” She yelled out like it was a chant. Hopper bit down harshly on his lip, drawing blood before speaking. “Hold on, ‘m almost there, slut.” He huffed out as his thrusts became erratic and sloppy. “Y’want me to cum in this pussy? Make you nice n’ full? Make you all nice n swollen with my fuckin’ babies?” He moaned out.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh my god, need your cum, please cum in me. Need it so bad.” She moaned out, drunk on his cock that was drilling into her now more sloppy. “Yeah? Fuck , yes. Cum f’me right now, Cherrie. Cum f’me.” He repeated over and over till she squirted all over his cock for a second time, her body shaking and spasming with each dragging thrust he blew.

His hips stilled as his cock stuffed her full, and she could feel him getting soft inside of her before lazily pulling out. Hopper dropped down to his knees again and began licking up both of their release from her hole, savoring the taste of her juices that were now dripping down the starved man’s chin, making his beard sticky. “Oh my god.” Cherrie moaned as her legs shook violently at the harsh overstimulation of him fucking his cum back into her pussy with three of his large fingers.

Jim let up and slapped her cunt a few times for safe measures before he grabbed the keys to her handcuffs and took them off. Hopper put her panties back in place to make sure none of his valued cum can get out of her used cunt. He let her body fall limp against him as he picked her up bridal style as he opened the passenger door, gently putting her in.

“‘M takin’ you to my house, baby. Gon’ take good care of you, Cherrie.” He murmured gently as he kissed her temple. Cherrie nodded and blushed madly at his gentle, loving tone. A tone no one besides Wayne or Eddie used for her.

Maybe Jim Hopper wasn’t so bad after all.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

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[wannabespacesmuggler]

J.H. | The Duality of Jim Hopper

Masterlist | Buy me a coffee

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

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Reader

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

Word Count: 4.5k

“How are you settling in?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’s she doing?”

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

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

“Oh. With the Chief?”

Apparently not. 

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

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

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

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

You shrug before giving him a verbal answer.

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

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

“Meet you at Benny’s? 7:00 o’clock?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re a lifesaver, Hop.”

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

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

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

“Hopper’s working tonight.”

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

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

“Get off of him!” 

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

“This has nothing to do with you!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sir, you can’t smoke in here!”

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

“Hey, Hop.”

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

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

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

“Hop.”

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

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

“Who did this to you?”

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

“Sweetheart, who hurt you?”

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

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

His brow furrows immediately at your response.

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

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

“He didn’t mean to hurt me.”

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

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

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

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

“You scared the shit out of me!”

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

“Hey, Hop. Wait.”

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

“Please don’t go.”

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

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

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

“I was actually at the library.”

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

“You’re joking.”

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

“You know Marissa?”

Hopper raises a brow at you once more.

“The librarian?”

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

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

“Trust me. I know.”

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

“This explains so much.”

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

“What are you talking about?”

“She asks about you all the time.”

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

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

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

“Why wouldn’t she like you?”

“Because she believes what everyone else does.”

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

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

“Oh.”

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

“Did you think about it?”

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

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

“How hard did that kid hit you?”

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

“Jim.”

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

“I thought about it too, that night.”

Hopper’s head rises and he meets your gaze. 

“You know -- you and I.”

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

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

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

“Just kiss me, Jim.”

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

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

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

“Sorry. Got a little carried away.”

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

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

“It’s Joyce isn’t it?”

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

“Joyce.”

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

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

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

“It’s fine, Joyce. How’s Jonathan?”

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

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

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

“Shut up and kiss me, Hopper.”

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

“Yes, ma’am.” 

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #hopper x reader #hopper #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper imagine #stranger things x reader #two idiots in love #grumpy x sunshine #jim hopper is oblivious but so are you #jim is canonically a ladies man #but he's only got eyes for you #joyce byers #david harbour

[huntingingoodwill]

noise complaint

masterlist

pairing: hopper x reader

desc: hopper finding you drunk at a party, throwing you over his shoulder, driving you home and helping you sober up by holding your head up and holding the glass to your lips while you drink water and ramble about the ginormous crush you have on him is simply something so special to me

a/n: first hopper fic!! i do hope you enjoy. there’s hints of crybaby reader and an implied age gap. p.s. while searching for a gif for this fic i saw a fic description that had some similar elements to this one. i haven’t read the fic itself but i wanted to just apologise if my fic seems too similar! that was completely not my intention and i hope i don’t come across as offensive as i hadn’t known about the fic before writing this one.

A warm, happy buzz thrummed through your body as you smiled up at the ceiling blissfully. You had been drinking, the edges of the world becoming soft and blurry, a sweet warmth blooming in your chest. The music blaring through the speakers and the chatter of the party around you sent gentle vibrations through the plush couch you were lying on. Your smile grew wider. You felt good.

“Oh, shiiit!” You giggled, watching as a couple of party-goers raced past you, laughing at the way they tripped over themselves as they ran. 

“Oh, shit.” Your voice lost all its tipsy amusement, becoming deadly serious as Hopper’s face appeared above yours.

There was no use in running now. He had caught you red-handed, a little drunk and spacing out on the couch at a house party that was probably a little too loud for the host’s neighbours’ liking. Still, you turned over, sliding off the couch in defeat, shielding yourself from his condescending expression. Maybe if you tried, you’d be able to roll under the couch and hide from him forever. 

You heard him click his tongue above you in annoyance. 

“What’re you doing here, kid?” His gravelly voice held a flat tone, and you could feel his eyes burning into the back of your head. 

“I’d ask you the same question, but I assume you aren’t here to party-arty-arty.” You mumbled into the rug. 

You rolled over onto your back, now looking up at him. Of all the house parties, in all of Hawkins, in all the world, he had to walk into the one you were at. 

It was bad enough that the chief of police caught you less than sober, rolling around on the rug at a house party, but it was even worse that he lived right next door to you. You’d get the mail in shame for the rest of your life.

“I’m not here to party-arty-arty.” He grumbled, words sardonic as he rolled his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at his distaste for your phrase. “We got a noise complaint.”

“Bummer.” You mumbled. Your hand crept up to his heavy boot, tugging on one of his laces absent-mindedly. He scowled, pulling his foot away. You dissolved into giggles, abruptly stopping as you saw the glare he gave you. “Lighten up, Hop.”

“I’ll lighten up once you get the hell outta here.”

You smiled up at him sheepishly. “I… don’t have a ride home.” 

He blinked at you incredulously before letting out a low groan, digging his palms into his tired eyes. “Shit.”

“That’s one for the swear jar!” You sang, holding out your hand as if expecting him to drop a dollar in it. He lightly smacked it away and you pouted defensively. “Government wage that bad, huh?”

He shushed you irritatedly, prompting you to let out another laugh. He squeezed his eyes shut, as if deep in thought. 

He couldn’t just leave you there. You were his neighbour’s daughter, for God’s sake. 

“You’re cute when you’re thinking.” You whispered.

He opened his eyes, ignoring your comment and the heat creeping up his neck. 

He exhaled sharply, crouching down next to you as he slid his jacket off, wrapping it around your waist. Then, in one movement, he hauled you up onto his shoulder. 

You exploded with laughter, your dizziness worsening as you hung upside down, thrown over his shoulder. 

He paused, taking care to pull his jacket down over your butt as your skirt rode up. He locked his arm around your thighs and made his way out of the house, boots clomping on hardwood and then gravel as he approached his truck. 

He took a second to breathe in the night air. His free hand snaked into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it nonchalantly, as if you weren’t slumped over his shoulder, ribcage shaking as you struggled to stifle your laughter.

You raised your arm behind you, toward his face, index and middle finger extended, asking for a drag. He pushed your arm away. 

“Nice try.” He scoffed, opening the door and helping you into the passenger seat. 

“Worth a shot!” You grinned. He shook his head, letting out a low chuckle. 

He leaned over you, pulling your seatbelt over your chest and buckling you in with a satisfying “click”. His eyes flickered to your face as you smiled dreamily up at him.

He felt his lips turn up in response, unable to control himself. 

“What’s got you smiling, huh?” He asked, curious. 

“You look rather handsome tonight, Chief.” You whispered, your voice lilting, sing-songy in your inebriation. You tugged his hat off his head, twirling it between your fingers. 

He looked at you, your shy gaze avoiding his as you clumsily handled his hat. 

His heart thumped. He turned away, clearing his throat, trying to mask his flustered expression. 

“You look rather drunk.” He replied, giving your reddened cheeks a tap. 

He rounded the truck, sliding into the driver’s seat, watching as you kicked your legs up on the dash with a loud thump, placing his hat over your face as you settled into your seat. 

His eyes travelled over your leg propped up so close to him, bent upward onto the dash. He grabbed your knee and shoved it back down, and he could tell you were giving him that mischievous smile, even through the hat that obscured it. His lips quirked upward. 

As he drove you back to your house, the bump and sway of the truck on the poorly paved roads lulled you to sleep. Slowly, the hat slid off your face as your temple dropped against the window. You held the hat in your arms, keeping it close to your lap as you dozed, the drinks you had earlier sending you to sleep quick enough. 

He turned to look at you, taking a drag of his cigarette as the other hand gripped the steering wheel as he navigated the roads. He slowed down, attempting to steer past the potholes so you could sleep in peace. Still, your head would knock against the glass every once in a while, causing you to frown in your sleep. He chuckled, watching your sleepy pout lit up by the streetlights that flashed by overhead. It was cute. 

He faltered for a moment, hesitating, before reaching over to hold your shoulders, trying to push you back onto your seat. 

Gonna give herself a damn concussion. 

Instead, you slumped toward him, your head, heavy with sleep, falling upon his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, glancing at you. You nuzzled into his side, lips parted gently. 

He swallowed thickly, trying to stay as still as possible, awkwardly tapping his fingers against the steering wheel though. Slowly, he relaxed, getting used to the weight of your body pressing into his shoulder.

Eventually, he pulled into his driveway. He hated having to wake you up, pausing to gaze at your peaceful, sleeping face before gently shaking you awake. He held back the urge to smile as you rubbed your bleary eyes, glancing around you as you realised where you were. 

“Alright, run on home, now.” He said, nodding toward your door. 

Your eyes widened, and you swivelled back toward your seat, yanking down the passenger side mirror. 

“Shit, shit, shit.” You mumbled, panic tinging your voice.

You smoothed down your dishevelled hair inelegantly, pressing the backs of your hands to your still inflamed cheeks in a futile attempt to cool them down. 

You huffed hopelessly, setting your forehead against the dash, letting out a little whine of despair.

“Okay, cut the dramatics…” His heart softened as you let out another pitiful whine, but he pressed on. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door-” 

“Hop, please don’t make me go home yet.” You pleaded with him, holding onto his arm. “I’m still buzzed, my parents are gonna be able to tell-” 

He opened his mouth to refuse once more, but began to panic when he spotted the glimmer of tears welling up in your eyes, your lip wobbling. 

“Hey, hey, don’t cr-” 

You gave one last convincing sniffle. 

He sighed, caving in. “Okay, okay-”

You gave him a toothy grin before lunging at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a grateful hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You squealed. 

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, patting your back awkwardly, feeling reluctant when it was time to break away from you. “Just until you sober up.”

He opened the door for you, letting you hold onto his shoulder for balance as you hopped down from his truck, making sure you were walking steady as he led you to his porch. You plopped down ungracefully, and he draped his jacket over your shoulders. 

The wood of the porch was cold and uneven beneath your thighs as you sat on the ledge, fiddling with Hopper’s hat in your hands. He returned from inside with a glass of water, the floorboards creaking under his weight as he sat down next to you. 

You looked at your feet as you sat in silence, the night breeze ghosting your face gently, crickets chirping in the distance. You heard the click of his lighter and turned to watch as Hopper’s face was illuminated by the fire as he lit another cigarette, his features bathed in the golden light.

You put on his hat, adjusting it so you wore it just like he did. He peered over and chuckled, flicking the brim. 

“Cute.” He muttered, before clearing his throat and turning away, awkwardly drumming his fingers on his thighs. 

“You think I’m cute?” You asked, looking up at him through your wide eyes. 

A blush crept up his cheeks. 

“Drink.” He said gruffly, holding out the glass to you. 

You ignored his gesture. You felt your cheeks warm even further, the effects of the liquid courage you’d had earlier taking hold now, stronger than ever. Your lips became loose, and you could tell you were about to be a little too truthful and that you’d regret all the words that were about to leave your mouth. Still, you spoke. 

“Because, I think you're cute.” You blurted out. 

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before regaining his feigned unfazed expression. 

“You’re drunk. Drink.” He spoke. 

“Like, really cute.” You swayed toward him. “Like, really, really-”

His hand splayed on the back of your head as he held your head up towards him, holding the glass to your lips, making you pause and take a sip. 

“Cute.” You finished. 

“I think I like you.” He made you take another drink of the water, the smooth, refreshing liquid sliding down your throat, a little slipping down your chin as he held the glass to your mouth. He used his thumb to wick the droplets away. “Like, really like you.” Another drink. “Whenever I see you-” Another sip. “I get all these butterflies in my stomach and I-” Sip. “Just can’t describe it. Like, I-” Sip. “I think-” Sip. “I think I like everything about you.” 

You went on like this for ages, Hopper holding the glass to your lips and interrupting you with sips of the water, as you rambled on and on about the huge crush on him that you’d been nursing for ages now, completely oblivious to the smug smile that was now gracing his face as he held you. 

After a good while of pouring your heart out, you seemed to run out of steam, panting a little at the rapid speed you had been talking at. 

“Feeling better?” He asked, you nodding in response. You were sobering up, but the burn in your cheeks still hadn’t subsided. You were blushing for an entirely different reason, now.

He nudged the small of your back, urging you to stand up. 

“Walk in a straight line.” He called out, prompting you to laugh as you did what you were told. 

“You gonna ask me to recite the alphabet backwards now?” You turned to him, smiling cheekily as he approached you. 

He hummed, as if in deep contemplation. “I think that won’t be necessary.” 

He threw his arm around you as he walked you to your door, pulling his jacket tighter around you. 

You stopped in front of the door, taking a deep breath of anticipation as you both stared at it. 

“Hop?”

“Yeah?” 

“You’ll wave at me from your window if I end up getting grounded, right?” 

“Of course, kid.”

#hopper #hopper x reader #hopper imagine #hopper imagines #hopper fic #hopper fanfic #hopper x you #hopper x y/n #jim hopper #chief hopper #david harbour #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #jim hopper imagine #st #Jim hopper imagines #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper fic

[marvelsgirl616]

Jim Hopper Icons | Season One. Episode One. | ‘Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers’

#jim hopper #stranger things #stranger things icons #david harbour #David Harbour icons #Jim hopper icons #jim hopper imagine #stranger things series #stranger things s1 #James Hopper Icon #netflix stranger things

[pinkandblueblurbs]

after-party

jim hopper x fem!reader. fluff. age gap (reader is college aged), underage drinking, drunkenness, lightly implied child abuse (just to be safe), suggestiveness, references to sex

a/n: i wrote this to take place sometime after this little headcanon, so reader and hopper have that pre-established history.

a/n 2: this is not proofread and im not very happy with it but its my first full hop piece so. yeah. take it as you will

word count: 2k

You barely hear the shouts or the pounding on the door, barely blink open your eyes to see the lines of kids walking by the couch you occupy and towards the exit. The sounds and lights all hurt your pounding head, so you opt to let yourself slip into a comfortable unconsciousness as much as you can.

You’re pulled back to reality by a hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently while a low baritone speaks to you.

“C’mon, kid. Wake up.”

You force your eyes open with a groan, and despite the too-bright lights and fuzziness of your vision you manage to recognize the serious face before you.

“Hopper...?” You murmur blearily, mouth dry and mind sluggish. “What’re- oh, shit.”

“Yeah, shit.” He echoes. “You’re busted.” He rises from his crouch, nodding towards the door, and you try to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the way he looks looming over you. “Stand up, it’s time to go.” 

It takes you a few long seconds to process his words, and he watches you while you do, looking unimpressed as you blink at him. “Can you stand up?” 

“Course I can stand up.” You finally reply, swinging your legs over the side of the sofa and planting your feet on the floor. That movement alone has your head spinning, but the alcohol has stripped you of your reasoning, so rather than take a moment to collect yourself you shoot right to your feet.

It feels like standing on a boat, like the ground is tilting under you, but you only have to sway there for a moment before strong hands are reaching out to grip your arms and hold you steady. 

“I’ve got you, kid.” Hopper moves to your side, still holding you upright as he starts taking slow steps towards the door. You follow his lead, using all of your concentration to not trip over your own feet. “Let’s get you home.”

You hum, picturing your soft bed and warm sheets, eager to be back in a horizontal position. Being upright makes your headache worse, and every time you move the contents of your stomach threaten to rise up through your throat. Yeah, going home sounds nice.

You make it all the way out to Hopper’s car- with only a few near wipe-outs and mutters of “careful”- before you remember it’s not your bed that will be at the door to greet you.

“Wait-” Hopper’s opening the passenger side door and you reach out to push it closed again, ignoring his annoyed huff. “I can’t go home.”

“You can’t go home?” He looks down at you as you lean haphazardly against his car. “Why’s that?”

“My parents,” you slur, “my parents will be pissed.”

“Your parents will be pissed.” He keeps doing that- repeating what you say back to you, as if he wants you to hear how stupid it sounds. You scowl. “Pissed at you for going to a party full of underaged drinking and getting the cops called on you? I’d be mad too, kid.”

You shake your head, eyes wide and heart thrumming at the mere thought of facing your parents. “No, you don’t get it. They’ll be really mad.” Something in his face softens as he looks down at you and sees the unmasked fear in your expression. He sighs, and once again reaches for the door handle.

“Alright, well, you can’t stay here.” He opens the door. “Get in.”

You let him coax you into the passenger seat, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when your butt is firmly planted and you no longer have to rely on your legs to keep you upright. You grab for the seatbelt and pull it over your body while Hopper closes the door and goes around to the driver’s side.

“You buckled?” He asks once he’s settled, looking over at you and assessing the strap across your front.

“Yup.” You respond, popping the p. A faint smile crosses Hopper’s face, and he starts the car.

“Then we’re off.”

You rest your forehead against the window as he drives, watching the blur of trees and road signs that whir by. There’s a heavy silence for a few moments, until Hopper speaks.

“You go to that party alone?” He asks. He’s trying to sound casual, but even in your inebriated haze you catch on to the tension in his voice, and you know you’re in for a lecture.

“No,” you murmur softly, picking idly at your cuticle, “went with friends.”

“With friends.” You can feel him glance at you, but you keep your eyes trained out the window. “And these friends just up and left you? Left you passed out on the couch?”

“Guess so.” You shrug. You can hear Hopper intake a sharp breath.

“What are your friends’ names?” His strained tone brings you to finally look at him. Your stomach flips anxiously when you see the angry furrow of his brow. He glances at you again, and your nerves must be visible on your face, because he looks back at the road and speaks again.

“I’m not mad, kid. I’m not gonna get you and your friends in trouble.” He still sounds rigid, but the words are genuine. “I’m just curious to know what kind of assholes would leave you like that.”

You keep your gaze on him, studying his profile as he watches the road. Your foggy mind wanders briefly, taking in his handsome features and remembering the last time you’d seen him. You look at his hands on the wheel, remembering the way they felt gripping your waist.

You blink a few times to clear your head, struggling to remember the conversation at hand. Something about being left alone by your “asshole friends.”

“I’m alright, y’know.” You murmur after the long pause, unsure what else to say.

He takes one more glance at you, takes in your slouched posture and glassy eyes, remembers you stumbling out to the car. You think for a second that he’s going to argue, but he just sighs and turns forward again.

“Yeah.” His voice has turned softer, almost reassuring, though you can’t tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself. “You’re alright now.”

The rest of the drive passes in silence. Once the car pulls up to the small cabin Hopper gets out, then moves around to help you do the same.

He walks you up to the door and lets you inside then guides you over to the couch, which you unceremoniously flop onto.

“You can sleep there, alright? I’ll get you a pillow and blanket.”

You hum your assent, looking around the small space curiously while he pops into another room. A few moments later he comes back with a knitted blanket and a somewhat limp, deflated looking pillow. He tosses both to you, and you don’t move to catch them, you just track them with your eyes as they land on your lap.

“Get comfortable.” He instructs gruffly before turning and walking into the small kitchen.

You do as you’re told, leaning the pillow against the armrest of the couch, folding it over once so it has some mass to it. Before you can lay down Hopper’s back at the side of the sofa, glass of water in hand.

“Here,” he holds it out to you, and you take it without question.

“The bathroom’s that door right there, and I’ll be in my room there if you need anything.” He points out the two rooms then nods at the glass in your hand.

“Now drink that and get some sleep. Alright?” You nod, eyes flitting up to him as you start to drink. He offers you a satisfied nod of his own and turns to walk away, disappearing into his bedroom.

You drink half and set down the glass, the fluid sloshing uncomfortably in your already agitated stomach. He must hear the heavy thud as it meets the table, because he calls out “all of it, kid! You’ll thank me in the morning.”

With a frown you pick the glass back up- because he’s right, you’re in for a miserable hangover as it is- and down the rest of the water.

You try to follow his other instruction to get some sleep; you shift around on the sofa to find a position that doesn’t feel contorted, you bunch up the sorry excuse for a pillow so it can offer some support to your throbbing head.

It’s all in vain, however, because you still find yourself awake. Awake and uncomfortable and thinking about the man one room over.

Before you have a chance to give it any real thought- if you’re even capable of real thoughts at the moment- your body’s in motion, heavy feet bringing you to the doorway of Hopper’s room.

“Hop?” You step into the dark space and walk over to the bed. The man lifts his head with a groggy grunt and a confused utterance of your name.

“Need something, hon?” He lets the name slip in his tiredness, and a smile graces your lips.

“Can I sleep in here?” You ask softly, reaching out to finger over the material of his comforter. The man rubs his eyes and heaves a sigh, starting to get up. “No!” You exclaim in a rush, causing him to stop in his tracks and fix you with a disgruntled look. “I mean, can both of us sleep in here.”

He lets out another sigh. “Nice try, kid, but no. You’re drunk.”

“It’s not like that.” You murmur. “I just wanna sleep, that’s all.”

He studies you for a moment, contemplating, and you offer him your most pleading expression. Eventually, there’s a third sigh.

“Alright. C’mere.” You beam at him and practically throw yourself into the bed, colliding with his side and pulling a low “oof” from his chest. For a second you think he’s going to make you scoot over, but then he’s letting his arm drop down around you and holding you in.

He’s warm, and he smells just the way you remember, and his chest makes a far better pillow than the one from the sofa.

“This is much better.” You shift your gaze to look up at him, finding his eyes closed. He still looks serious, even so close to sleep, but he also looks a bit more peaceful.

“Yeah?” You nod against him with a soft “mhm.” “Good. Now we can both get some fucking sleep.”

You hum and close your eyes, grinning to yourself.

“Then maybe in the morning we can-“

“I said sleep.” It’s as stern and gruff as ever, but you can hear the hint of amusement in his tone. Your giggle is the last thing he hears before sleep takes you both.

—

Come morning the first thing you notice is that your head is pounding worse than the night before. The sun is bright through the blinds as you force open your eyes, and you groan, struggling for a while to convince yourself to get up out for bed.

Once you do you stumble out of the bedroom and are immediately hit with the smell of coffee and eggs. There are a pillow and blanket left abandoned on the sofa, and at the table are two sets of mugs, forks, and plastic plates. You move towards the kitchen to find Hopper’s large form standing in front of the stove. He turns to look at you.

“There she is. Morning, sunshine.” He says dryly, taking in your groggy state. All you can muster in response is a vague grunt, and he lets out a huff of amusement, pushing the eggs around in the pan.

You watch him for a moment, slowly coming back to yourself, before your gaze settles back on the made-up sofa.

“Hop,” you start, voice slightly croaky. “You didn’t have to give me the bed.”

He turns to look at you again, and the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a smile that you can’t quite discern. He clicks off the burner and steps away from the stove, holding the pan of eggs in hand.

“Don’t worry about it, hon.” The term makes your heart stutter. “You needed a good night’s sleep more than me. Had to sober you up somehow.” He flashes you a grin, and you return it, gratitude swelling in your chest.

“Now c’mere, have a seat.” He’s dumping a portion of eggs onto each plate. “I hope you like ‘em scrambled.”

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#jim hopper #hopper stranger things #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper imagine #stranger things imagine #jim hopper fluff #stranger things fluff #stranger things 4 #david harbour

[parkert01]

PDA - Jim Hopper

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

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

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

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

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

#david harbour #jim hopper #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #david harbour imagine #david harbour x y/n #david harbour x reader #david harbour x you #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #hopper x reader #hopper stranger things

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Serve & Protect

Summary: You moved to the small quiet town of Hawkins after transferring from the NYPD and reunite with your old partner, Jim Hopper. However, Hawkins isn't as quiet as it seems, and your past follows you there.

Pairing: Jim Hopper x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Language, violence, past abuse

Chapter 1- paperwork, coffee & rotten pumpkins

Transferring from the NYPD to Hawkins PD had been drastic. You went from getting paid as a detective working homicide in the big city to working in a small country town as a Deputy on half the wage.

Your co-workers at Hawkins thought you were crazy for it, but they didn't know why you moved. They didn't know the reason behind the sudden shift across the country and you sure as hell weren't going to tell them.

It wasn't all bad though.

You and Hopper used to be partners back in New York in the homicide unit, until he moved away after his daughter died. It sucked when he left town, but you understood why he left, especially after him and his wife got divorced.

However, that understanding didn't make it any easier without him, especially when the boss introduced you to your new work partner a week later and he was a total dick.

"Have I ever told you guys about how much I hate paperwork?" Callahan asked, looking over at you and Powell across the room.

"I think you've said it nearly every day since I started working here." You answered, rubbing your face with your hands trying to wake yourself up as you stared down at the stack of files on your desk.

He was right though, paperwork did suck.

"Try every day for the last three years. It gets annoying, trust me." Powell mumbled, his head down busy working.

Callahan rolled his eyes, and you covered up your laugh with a cough while looking between the two men in amusement.

It had been a couple of weeks since you first stepped foot in Hawkins after leaving the busy city streets of New York behind. You had expected to feel like an outcast at the station. The other officers had all grown up together in this small town. Some had even been in the same courses at the Police Academy. They all had chemistry and strong connections to one another, and they were all men.

From experience, male Police Officers tended to dislike female colleagues, however, your new fellow Deputies had welcomed you with open arms. They were all friendly and treated you like an equal which was more than what any of your old work colleagues had done back in New York.

It shouldn't have been a surprise though because Jim Hopper wouldn't let any discrimination or hate slide when it came to you.

He had your back in New York and stood up for you when no one else would. Even after all these years, nothing had changed.

The Chief had put you on the same shift rotation as Powell and Callahan since your first day. The two Deputies had taken you under their wing without hesitation.

Calvin Powell was an older yet brilliant deputy. He was stern and tough when it came to the law, and was serious about his job, but was always up for a good laugh. He had taught you a lot in your short time with Hawkins PD and was always happy to answer any questions you had.

Phil Callahan was the exact opposite.

He was the jokester of the station and although he was always cracking jokes and acting some would say, childish, he was a damn good deputy. He was constantly the first one out the door whenever a job came up and was always ready to help with anything.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Jim. This is serious."

You looked up from your paperwork at the unfamiliar voice to find Hopper walking into the station followed by a balding guy with a beard who you had never seen before.

Hopper groaned dramatically at the stranger's words and hung his coat up on the rack by the front door.

Well, whoever that guy was, the Chief did not like him.

"I really got something here. I'm telling you." The guy insisted.

"Morning, Chief." Powell greeted, actually looking up from his desk as he spoke before he spotted the other guy and grinned, "morning, Murray."

"Got any proof on your butt probin' aliens yet, Murray?" Callahan asked causing your head to snap towards him.

"What? Who the hell is this guy?" You asked.

"Murray Bauman. Used to be an Investigative Journalist in Hawkins, now he's some kind of Private Investigator, but he believes all these weird conspiracy theories and stuff." Callahan whispered, leaning over your joined desks towards you as he spoke.

"That sounds... interesting." You answered, choosing your words carefully.

You looked back over at Murray just as Hopper grabbed one of the donuts from the bench, but Flo was hot on his tail and snatched the glazed donut from his hand and replaced it with an apple.

Hopper glared at her, and you tried not to laugh at the annoyed look on his face, but he accepted the fruit anyway and took a bite out of it.

"I believe there was, and may still be, a Russian spy presence in Hawkins." Murray continued to say.

"Russian spies?" Hopper asked, amusement clear in his voice as he began pouring himself a cup of coffee.

"Are the spies in cahoots with the aliens? Or how do they fit in here? I'm confused." Callahan commented causing you to snort softly.

Hopper just smirked and filled up another mug of coffee before grabbing both and walking over to your desk, placing the second mug down in front of you.

You smiled, "thank you. I needed this."

"I could tell. You look tired."

"Just what every girl wants to hear." You mumbled into the coffee cup as you took a sip and sighed at the warm taste of caffeine.

"I'm talking multiple reports now." Murray continued to say, his voice raised a little louder. "Multiple reports, okay? Of a Russian child in Hawkins."

"A child? What are you talking about?" Hopper questioned, now suddenly interested in what this man had to say.

"A girl who may have psionic abilities."

"'Psionic'?" Powell asked in confusion.

"Psychic." Murray corrected.

"Hey Chief. What about that girl that made that kid pee himself?" Callahan asked and okay, what? Now you had questions.

"It was just a prank." Hopper answered, dismissing his Deputy quickly before turning to Murray. "You got five minutes. Not a second more."

You watched as Hopper led Murray across the room into his own private office, closing the door behind him. You glanced over at Callahan and Powell who both shrugged their shoulders and went back to work, like it was normal for a man to walk in and start talking about Russian spies and kids with powers. Maybe it was normal for Hawkins.

Within 60 seconds, the Chief's door opened and a rather pissed off looking Murray stepped out. He spared one glance at the rest of you before he turned and walked out the station before Hopper emerged from his office.

"Who wants to get out the office for a bit? We got a job."

"Me!" You and Callahan both quickly said at the same time.

Hopper looked between the two of you, "Y/N, let's go."

"Oh, come on!" Callahan whined. "You always choose her."

"Maybe I like her better than you. Ya ever think about that?" Hopper asked, grabbing his jacket from the rack, and slipping it on.

"We all know why you like her." Callahan mumbled under his breath causing Powell to kick his feet under the desk.

You looked between the two of them suspiciously, Hopper just bluntly ignoring them before you chugged the last of your coffee and followed the Chief out the station.

You jumped into the passenger seat of his Chevy Blazer, instantly reaching for the dial of the heater and cranking it up as Hopper reversed out the parking lot.

"So, what's the job?"

"Pumpkins that have been contaminated by a vengeful neighbour." He answered causing you to look over at him in disbelief.

"You're shitting me, right? Pumpkins?"

He chuckled softly, "I shit you not."

"How'd I go from investigating murders to investigating pumpkins?" You asked aloud causing him to laugh.

"You're the one who put in your transfer to Hawkins. This is on you." He reminded.

Yeah, that was true.

You nodded, knowing he was right, and you glanced out the window as Hopper drove, the faint music from the radio filling the silence.

"Why did you transfer here? Not that I'm complaining, I just... I thought you loved it in New York."

This wasn't the first time he had asked. Hell, it wasn't even the second, but you kept dodging the question.

"Just needed a fresh start. A change of scenery I guess." You answered, which wasn't a total lie.

You could feel Hopper staring at you out the corner of your eye, but you kept your head forward, knowing if you looked at him, he would be able to see straight through you. After all those years working together, you had gotten to know each other really well, to the point where you knew when the other was lying.

Hopper just hummed in response, despite knowing there was more to the story, but to your relief, he didn't try to pry, and you were grateful for that.

It didn't take long to reach the small pumpkin farm on the outskirts of Hawkins. If you were being honest, you forgot these kinds of farms existed. But of course, they did, you just never really thought about it until now.

The farmer was adamant that his neighbour had poisoned his crops. Stating that the pumpkins were perfectly fine yesterday, but when he woke up this morning, they were rotten.

After inspecting the large fields of pumpkins, every single vegetable was in fact rotten and Hopper told him that he was going to look into it before you both climbed back into the car.

"There is no way these pumpkins turned rotten like that overnight." You said, the second your car door was shut. "What do you think happened?"

"I honestly have no idea. It's been cold, maybe frost got to them."

"Good theory. Try telling that to him though." You said, nodding at the farmer who was still standing by his ruined crop.

Hopper grunted, "he can accept whatever I tell him."

He turned the key in the ignition, bringing the old Chevy to life with a roar before tapping it into gear and driving back down the dirt road to Hawkins.

Instead of going back to the station like you assumed he would have, Hopper instead pulled up to the diner on main street and before you knew it, the two of you were sitting inside and eating breakfast.

"I missed this." You found yourself saying before thinking better of it.

Hopper looked up at you from across the booth, his fork halfway to his mouth, "missed pancakes?" he asked in confusion.

"No." You chuckled, shaking your head. "No, I missed this. Us. Working together. It feels like old times."

Back in New York, you were the first woman to join the homicide unit. All the guys hated it. They didn't believe a girl could do the job as well as men and they despised you for it. They all treated you like garbage despite the fact that you were better than half the team, but they still hated you, except for Hopper.

He was the only one who treated you like a normal person. At first, he was a little apprehensive, but that was because he had been used to working solo and wasn't expecting the Superintendent to suddenly give him a partner, especially not some random chick he had never met before.

The two of you had hit it off straight away though. You didn't take any of his crap and he respected that, and you made quite a team.

"Ah, yes. Because we used to deal with crime scenes of rotten pumpkins and eat in diners all the time back in New York." He said sarcastically, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Well, if you replace pumpkins with dead bodies. The farmer with a serial killer and these pancakes in this diner for a packet of candy in the stakeout van, then yes."

Hopper snorted, taking another bite of his pancakes as he shook his head with a smile.

"I missed working with you too." He admitted once he finished his mouthful. "I still can't believe you transferred here though."

"I'm starting to regret it after that thrilling morning on the farm." You joked, but Hopper shook his head.

"Nah, you don't. You'd miss me too much if you left Hawkins."

Yeah, you would.

"In your dreams." You said instead because like hell you were going to admit that.

You liked Hopper. You even had a crush on him back in New York when you first joined, but after finding out that he was married with a kid, you quickly pushed your feelings aside and the two of you became best friends.

"You seeing anyone?" He randomly asked causing you to nearly choke on your coffee.

"What?" You asked, covering your mouth as you coughed.

"Are you seeing anyone? You got a boyfriend or anything?" He clarified.

"Oh, no, no. I'm single." You answered, shrugging your shoulders hoping it looked casual. "What about you? Have you found someone in this town to settle down with?"

Hopper opened his mouth to answer before his eyes widened like he just realised something, and he quickly rolled up his sleeve to look at his watch.

"Shit. Shit. I was meant to meet Joyce at the lab ten minutes ago."

Joyce? Who was Joyce?

"I need to go. I'll drop you off on my way." He said, throwing down some money on the table and eating his last pancake before the two of you left the diner and climbed back into the car.

"Hawkins lab?" You asked, looking over at him as he pulled out the parking lot and sped in the direction of the station. "What's at Hawkins lab that's so important?"

"Nothing. It's nothing important. Just promised Joyce I'd help her out with something." He dismissed, not going into any detail.

You wanted to push for an answer but decided against it. He would tell you if he wanted to and frankly, it wasn't any of your business, but you couldn't help but feel a little sad hearing about Joyce.

Was she his girlfriend? He never did answer your question earlier.

Hopper dropped you off back at the station and the rest of your shift was mainly just sitting behind the desk doing paperwork, until an old lady called about a noise complained, so you went out with Powell and Callahan to deal with that.

The day went by surprisingly quickly and before you knew it, you were standing back in that pumpkin crop the following day with Hopper because now it wasn't just one person's crop that had turned rotten. It was several.

"Now, you try telling me with a straight face that cold did this." The farmer said, pointing at his destroyed crop.

Yeah, he had a point.

Frost might have gotten some of the pumpkins, but not this many and this quickly. Plus, for October, it hadn't been super cold yet, so it didn't make any sense.

"How far does it go?" You asked curiously, wondering if whatever was destroying the pumpkins was hurting other plant life in the area.

The farmer just motioned for the two of you to follow him as he walked towards the woods by the boundary line of his crop and your jaw dropped when you realised that the trees and bushes on the edge of the woods had turned rotten too.

Okay, this was definitely not the cold. What the hell did all this?

"What the fuck?" You whispered to yourself, lifting your hand, and touching the rotten tree trunk to find this gooey slimy substance all over it.

Hopper appeared beside you and quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from the slime.

"Hey, Chief, you copy?" Powell's voice called over the radio.

Hopper grabbed his radio from his belt and held it to his mouth. "How's it looking over there?"

"Like a giant pissed all over Jack's bean field. Smells, too. It smell over there?"

"Where doesn't it smell?" You questioned, grimacing at the gross rotten stench that covered the entire farm.

You'd nearly rather the stench from old dead bodies than this... okay, no, that's a lie. There was nothing that smelt worse than that, but this was a close second.

"Yeah, little bit. Listen. I want you guys to track the rot, see how far it goes. Just, uh, mark anything that's dead." Hopper instructed through the radio.

"That's gonna take some time." Powell pointed out.

"So take it. And look, we don't know what caused this. Could be poison. So don't touch anything without gloves." He ordered, pointily staring at you with the last sentence and you gave him a guilty look.

"Copy that, Chief."

He slipped the radio back into the pouch on his belt before turning towards you with a questioning look, "you good to work some overtime?"

"I got no plans tonight. Let's get started." You said and Hopper nodded his appreciation before the two of you got to work.

The farmer had supplied marker flags, so you and Hopper spent the next few hours walking through the woods and placing a flag by everything rotten while Powell and Callahan did the same at the other farm.

By nightfall, it was finally finished, and Hopper gave you all permission to start late tomorrow morning so you could actually get a decent night's sleep.

"I have to basically drive past your house to get home, want a lift?" He asked, climbing into the Chevy.

"My truck is at the station. I won't be able to-"

"I can pick you up in the morning."

You nodded, "that would work. Thank you."

You climbed into the passenger side of his car before Hopper started the Chevy and began to drive away. He barely got a few metres down the dirt driveway before he suddenly slammed on the brakes and put the car into reverse.

"What are you doing?" You asked, figuring he must have forgotten something.

He didn't answer though, instead he rolled down his window and stuck his head out and called out to the little kid walking towards the farmhouse, his Halloween outfit on and bucket full of candy in his hand.

"Hey, kid. Give me some of that candy, would you?"

"No way." The boy answered and you saw that coming from a mile away.

Kids cherished their Halloween candy. But why did Hopper want some?

"Alright, how about now?" He asked, pulling out a couple dollar bills from his wallet.

The kid hesitated a little before nodding in agreement and jogging up to the car, taking the money and handing over his bucket of candy. You just watched, assuming Hopper would explain why he needed the candy, but he didn't say a single word before he tapped the car into gear and continued to drive.

"Umm, is there a reason you bribed the kid for his candy?" You asked curiously.

"Forgot it was Halloween, I don't have any at home. Wanted to be prepared in case any kids came trick or treating to my front door."

You glanced over at the clock on the dash which indicated that it was nearly midnight, and you raised your eyebrows, "how many kids do you think will be trick or treating at this time of night?"

Hopper glanced over at the clock and seemed surprised by how late it was but shrugged his shoulders.

"Can never be too prepared."

Guess he had a fair point. But you didn't plan on getting any candy. You planned on going straight to bed and if anyone knocked on your door for trick or treating at this time of night, you were not answering it.

"What's your address?" Hopper asked a few seconds later, turning out onto the main road.

"Thought you said my house was on the way to yours. Don't you know it?"

Hopper didn't say anything for a moment, "I lied. I have no idea where you live."

"Why?"

"Because you haven't told me your address."

"No, I meant why did you lie? I could have driven home myself, you know?"

He sighed, rubbing his face with his free hand, "maybe I wanted to spend more time with you."

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling.

"Aww, you really did miss me all these years, didn't you? That's sweet." You responded in a teasing tone as you leant over and nudged his arm with your elbow.

"I hate you." He muttered, but the small smile on his face told you how untrue those words really were.

"You love me."

"Love is a real strong word. More like tolerate."

"Ouch." You said, resting your hand over your heart dramatically causing Hopper to stifle a laugh as he shook his head at you.

"But, seriously, where do you live because I have no idea where I'm driving."

"Oh, take the next two lefts and I'm number 32." You answered.

Within a couple of minutes, he was pulling up in front of your house and you climbed out the car, pausing as you held the door open.

"What time will you pick me up in the morning? Just so I'm awake and ready."

"I'll swing by around nine." He answered and you nodded, about to close the door before he continued talking. "Oh, and Y/N? Stay out of the woods, okay?"

You frowned a little but nodded, "wasn't planning on going for a stroll through the woods, but alright."

He nodded and you gave him a friendly wave before closing the door and watching him drive off.

You made your way inside the house kicking off your muddy boots by the door and making a mental note to clean them in the morning. You dumped your duty belt on the back of the couch before noticing there was a little red light flashing on your answering machine.

Who had tried to call you?

You didn't keep in touch with anyone from New York and the only people you knew in Hawkins were the ones you were with today. So, who was it?

Pressing the play button, you made your way to the kitchen to grab a glass of water but froze in the doorway when the voice spoke through the machine.

A sickening wave of terror welled in your stomach. Your body grew tense to the point of shaking as you grabbed hold of the wall listening to the voice you had hoped to never hear again.

"You think moving to Hawkins will save you? It won't. I'll be seeing you again real soon, sugar."

Blood drained from your skin and breath caught in your throat as you slowly slid down against the wall and sat on the carpet. You buried your face into your hands trying to remember how to breathe as you thought back to the last time you heard that voice... the voice who was the reason for your transfer to Hawkins.

-

Next Chapter

A/N: Why did I write this? Well, I wanted to read a Hopper x Reader fanfic that consisted of more than 1 chapter and wasn't just pure smut with no plot… however, upon scrolling through AO3 I discovered that is hard to find. So, I wrote my own.

I know this chapter was a little heavy in dialogue which I'm not happy with but bear with me for the first few chapters because I promise it gets better. 

Thank you for those that are reading this new story. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below! The next chapter will be posted within the next few days but until then, stay safe everyone and have a great day xx

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If anyone wants to be tagged just let me know

#jim hopper #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper imagine #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #david harbour #pov

[creedslove]

ANAL SEX WITH HOPPER - HEADCANON

repost from 2019 - my own work

Season 3 Jim Hopper x Female Reader

Summary: headcanons on having anal sex with Hopper

Warnings: explicit smut, anal sex, mentions of ice and food play

°°°

• There are two things we can't forget about Hopper when it comes to anal sex or any other sexual activities, really which is: 

• One: he is very experienced and knows what he's doing 

• Two: he is very big and he is aware of that 

• Combining the two of them together, we get to the conclusion that Hop will be more than careful with you 

• He knows the key for a pleasurable experience when it comes to that it is the preparation and the after care 

• That's why he makes sure to engage in both activities with you, because he wants it to be good for both of you, he would never consider doing it if it had to hurt you in any way 

• Starting with the fact he wouldn't even insisting on that 

• Of course, Hop being a dirty man as we know, likes fucking his sweethearts in the ass, but he would never be pushy towards you 

• Although he would always drop hints, or make jokes about it just to see your reaction 

• During sex, he would always have a soft spot for your butt, squeezing and massaging and even spanking it 

• Seeing you receptive, he would start by exploring it a bit further, so, when he goes down on you, he can also lick you down there or massage your opening with the tip of his fingers 

• And have you realize it feels really good 😏 

• So, once the idea had been accepted and discussed, Hopper knew it wouldn't right away, it would take time, patience and preparation, which you both had sparingly  

• To get you used to the idea, Jim asked for a bit of trust, in which he showed his powers and moves  

• Whenever he would go down on you, he would also eat your ass 

• And let me tell you: that man knows how to do it

• He would have you on all fours, spreading your cheeks and his face sunk between them, alternating between licking your soaked cunt or your tight little clenching hole 

• When he spanks you, he would begin to finger your ass, carefully and with a lot of lube, one finger at time, until you are used to taking two (it might not sound much, but remember how big and thick he is) 

• Then, Hop would make sure to get you some plugs; whichever ones you want, you can choose the size, the color etc, and nothing makes him more pleased than having his baby girl welcome him home wearing just her sexy plug and nothing else, after a hard day of work 

• Hop would also love to play with ice or other stuff in your ass like lollipops (ice and food play for Hop is another thing I'll not talk about now, but if someone requests… 🤭) 

• When you finally feel ready to do it, he will make you wild. After teasing you, making you wet, playing with your clit for hours, then he'll began to spread lube all over your body

• He'd jerk himself off between your ass cheeks; as you wiggled your butt and make him drip of pre cum 

• If you can only take his tip, he is okay with it and he'll make sure to remind you of that 

• When you finally do it, he will let you get used to his size, rubbing your clit gently and kissing your shoulder, your neck and your back, reminding you of the good girl you are and how happy you make your chief of police 

• It will be a good experience for both of you, in which you will both cum, get satisfied but also, show how much you trust each other 

• Once it is done, Hop will take you to a warm bath, carrying you and praising you for being his talented baby girl 

• He would make sure to get you some painkillers and a warm tea or hot chocolate 

• And once you are done showering, he would take you to bed, wrap his strong arms around you and snuggle you to sleep 

_____

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper #chief jim hopper #chief jim hopper x reader #chief jim hopper imagine #chief hopper x reader #chief hopper imagine #chief hopper #stranger things x reader #stranger things #david harbour imagine #david harbour x reader #david harbour

[kenniel-fanfic-readerinsert]

Forget the Past, Enjoy the Present (Jack Salter x Reader)

_

lame *ss title.

Disclaimers:

1. I should be sleeping

2. It's been like... 6 years? since the last time I wrote a fanfic

3. I am sorry for the cringey writing, I needed to get this out of my system

4. I only saw the movie 1 time, I hope I can go again before they remove the movie in the cinema

5. annddddd I don't own brands, names and etc. Only the cringe plot

5.5. I don't know much of how motorsports work, maybe when I have more free time I will write something really good, in the meanwhile, I ' m r e a l l y s o r r y

6. Jesus, David Harbour, I love you

Part 2 or a remake of this, yess

There is like a 10 year age gap, I believe Jack was in his 30s when the accident happened, so Reader is in their 20s making their way on racing things.

Italics for past time and details about yourself

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15 years ago…

“This is devastating” a car race has gone wrong before, but this wrong? “Jack Salter seems to have lost track of his path along with another racer. Everyone at the expectation of what is going to happen next.

“Is he all right?” Jack asked while the paramedics were taking him into the ambulance “He seems to be stable, we need to hurry”, assured his trainer.

“You’ll be okay, Jack, don’t fall sleep” he heard a familiar voice before getting unconscious.

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Present Time

Jack got a call from that stupid gremlin Danny Moore while he was working. Gamer racers? People who probably never drove a real car before on these powerful vehicles? Crazy idea, but here he was.

“Oh, but our special team is not complete yet” Danny was showing him the GT Academy, but once they reached the racetrack for the academy he stopped at the pits. Jack just sighs. “Now what?”

“I want our racers to have a different kind of life experience besides yours” Moore gave him a little smile.

“Stop talking around the bush, who is it”

“Well, you know them”

Jack just closed his eyes.

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.

A demi sport sedan of (your design) was nearing them on the pits. The driver’s door opened reveling a (your hair color) person. They got closer to them. The marketing expert clapped his hands and opened his arms to embrace Y/N in a hug.

“Can’t believe you still are so energetic, Daniel” Y/N greeted him. He smiled but also sensed the tension between the other two. He pulls apart from Y/N and gestured to Jack “I’m pretty sure you remember this big guy”, Moore gave Jack a gentle pat in his belly, making the taller man grunt.

“Of course, hard to forget a man with his nose. Hello, Jack”

“Hello, Y/N” they gave each other a quick look and turn their eyes to any other place possible.

Danny clapped his hands again “Well, let’s get to it!” He gave both Jack and Y/N a pat on their backs before leaving to greet the players.

Once they saw the gaming racers arrive and Jack gave them a depressing speech, Danny introduced Y/N to relieve the pressure of the competitors. “Hello, I’m Y/N, I love racing so much that I’m an Industrial Designer to understand better everything about cars. I’m a racer but since I was young, I participated in street racing. That’s why Daniel here wanted me in the team, to teach you about how savage real racers will be with you.” They gave them a wink before getting in their place behind Danny.

“All right, get comfy guys, but not so much because you start your training tomorrow” the marketer for Nissan dismissed everyone.

Jack was left confused, so they got a degree to understand more about cars?

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A couple months before the accident

“Hey, you know it wasn’t your fault, right?” they said, Y/N’s fingers touching only with the tip of the fingers in his shoulder.

“Yes it was, I should’ve more careful!” he got angry, everyone kept saying that it wasn’t his fault, that maybe could have happened with another person. He push Y/N’s hand away, but they got used to that reactions.

“Besides, what do you know about safety? The only track you know is the street, you have never been in a real race” He added fueled by the anger remembering the crash and the loss of a life.

“Is as dangerous if not more, but whatever, I tried everything to cheer you up, but it seems that you never bear my presence. I’m sorry, I hope you find peace someday.”

Y/N met Jack when they started to become more interested in racing in a professional way, not that they doesn’t enjoy street racing, but earning cups and medals looked really nice.

Jack doesn’t say anything nor gives them a glance. They picked their things up and left him alone in silence.

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The team of Danny Moore, Jack Salter and Y/N worked just fine, even if the racers ended up with mixed instructions from the older racers. Moore found it problematic, he needed Jack to be synergic with Y/N so the racers could get better and better.

“Jack, my brother”

“We are not brothers”

“Oh, c’mon, we been working for days now.”

“Whaddaya need” Jack didn’t enjoy when people interrupted his Walkman’s sessions.

“Welp, always straight to the point. The three of us, we are making a great team, but no perfect.”

If Jack got a cent for every time he sighs for something that came out of Danny’s mouth, he will have tons of money. “Now what, just tell me and I will work on it”

“Nice of you to say that. Apologize to Them”.

Jack lifted his eyebrows surprised. “You think that’s the issue? We are fine, we talk the necessary.”

“Yeah, like divorced parents. That’s the problem”

“…”

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“I liked the turn you made on that weird curb, but next time…” Y/N really takes pleasure in giving feedback to the young drivers. Jack approached and cleared his throat; the other instructor paused at the interruption and turned their head.

“Yes…?” Y/N raised a brow, clearly confused because Jack never shared a word with them aside from things related with the competitors or Danny (Danny himself is a topic).

“Can we… uh, talk, like the two of us” he tried to say as quiet as possible so the others couldn’t hear.

“Sure, let me finish with them” Y/N gave some last instructions to the gamers and then followed him far from the pits.

“Well, I don’t know how to start”

“Why are we here, then” Y/N crossed their arms.

“Fine, fine. Look, I’m sorry” he ran his hand over his face trying to find the courage. “I… what happened 15 years ago wasn’t my fault, you were by my side even if I never liked it. I was young and stupid to push you like that. I’m sorry” he ended and looked at the (your eye color). "I also took you for granted as a driver, hell you drive better than most of those assholes out there"

They cast their face down for a moment and then up to his eyes. “It’s fine, I appreciate your apology. Everything is in the past now” Y/N offered a small smile to him. He nodded his head. "And thanks for the compliment, it means a lot coming from you."

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After that they manage to find a better rhythm of teaching the competitors. A couple of weeks have passed, Y/N and Jack became friends (the first time they met doesn’t count to Y/N since it was one-sided). Sharing meals together without Danny.

Danny Moore got an eye for perfect opportunities, and again he found one. He noticed the long glances Jack gave to Y/N, and how he worries when Y/N got in a car to give the gamers extra lessons.

“Jack, my brother” He said to Jack once they were in the press room alone.

“Jesus Christ, now what?”

#gran turismo #jack salter x reader #gran turismo imagine #jack salter david harbour #david harbour #david harbour x reader #reader insert

[fandomnerd9602]

New Years Kiss

Wednesday x Claus!Reader

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath

So Christmas with your usually drunk dad, Santa Clause and Wednesday’s own family went well. Nothing too horrible.

But now that brings you and Wednesday to tonight. You had something planned special for the new year party. Little did you know that so did Wednesday.

You partied it up at the North Pole, which contrary to popular belief is actually located in Norway. Your family loves to party the New Year, since Dad’s so busy on Christmas.

You make your way through the partying elves and towards your date. Your maniac gothic dream girl as she dances in only the way she can out on that dance floor.

“Hey there” you smile at the Addams girl.

“Hey yourself” she answers back.

“It’s almost midnight” you gesture, “would you like to join me out on the balcony?”

Wednesday nods as you lead her to the balcony overlooking the entire North Pole complex. Your father gives you a toast and a wink as you lead Wednesday out.

The Aurora Borealis shines brilliantly, illuminating the young woman you love.

“Wednesday” you try to say, “I know we’ve only been dating for under a year and all but…”

“But what? You are not breaking up with me” she practically orders you.

“Definitely not that!” You stutter back. “I was going to say that we Clauses have a way of knowing when we meet the women we love. And I wanted to tell you-“

“Me too” she answer back, a small genuine smile crossing her porcelain, Ruby red lips. “I love you…mon cher”

“Cara mia” you whisper back as you draw closer to her. It was like magnetic, the pull between you and her.

You could hear the elves as they counted down the seconds.

She wraps her arms around your neck. Her eyes flutter close.

“3…2…1!!!”

You kiss her right as the fireworks shoot off. The new year has arrived.

You pull back smiling at the gothic young woman.

“Happy new year” she whispers in your ear.

“Happy new year,” you answer back.

“So does this mean I’ll be Mrs Claus someday?” Wednesday surprisingly jokes with you.

“If you do, I think kids will be more afraid of you than Krampus” you answer back.

“Good” she deviously smiles as she pulls you into another kiss.

#wednesday jenna ortega #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #wednesday #wednesday imagine #violent night #violent night imagine #Santa claus David Harbour