Chapter Text
She’s going to strangle him. No. She’s going to smother him. With a pillow. Hold it over his smug face until the overly loud snores finally stop.
She glares down at him from her position on the sofa bed, he’s fast asleep, dead to the world, snoring like a damn jackhammer. She’s going to kill him. She’s decided it.
When Hopper suggested he and Joyce take the living room and have Alexei sleep in the guest room, she figured it was reasonable. If he tried to make a break for it she or Hopper would hear him and be able to stop him, besides he’s been a pain in the ass all day when it comes to Alexei, the last thing she wants to deal with is Hopper’s fury if he gets away.
After a particularly loud snore that rattles the floor beneath him, she smacks her hands down on the mattress and moves to shake his shoulder. “Hopper!” She hisses. “Roll over!” She’s dignified with nothing but a grunt from the burly man.
With a huff, she slides the pillow out from under her head and tosses it straight at him. He yelps, grumbling as he begins to curse, but at least the snoring has stopped. “Joyce?” Hopper mumbles sleepily. “What the hell?”
“You’ve been snoring for two hours. Shut. Up.”
“Could’ve just asked nicely you didn’t need to throw a pillow at me,” He grumbles, rubbing at his eyes as he sits up glowering at her.
“Oh yes because a pillow is a dangerous weapon, grow up, Jim.”
“What’s with you lately? You’ve been a grump.”
“Me?” Joyce scoffs, scrambling to her knees and glaring at him. “You're the one who’s been a jackass all because I didn’t meet you for dinner.”
“ Nooo ,” Hopper drawls. “You blew me off, you stood me up, and you didn’t even have the decency to call.”
“It was for good reason!” Joyce defends. “Look what we’re doing here, if I hadn’t gone to Scott Clarke’s-“ Hopper scoffs at the mention of the man. “Oh seriously, Hop. Grow up.”
“All I’m saying is it wouldn’t have killed you to pick up a phone and tell me you weren’t coming. I sat there for hours like a damn fool thinking you were just running late.”
“I told you I’m sorry!”
“No you didn’t,” Hopper bites back, voice noticeably softer.
Joyce’s eyes widen. “No, I… I did, I said-“
“No, you didn’t,” Hopper growls back. “Can I go back to sleep now, please?”
“Whatever, my apologies for trying to have an adult conversation with you, I forgot that’s not possible.” Joyce huffs and curls back under the blankets, burrowing her face in the pillow.
“You know you’re not perfect either, Joyce!”
“Me?” Joyce squeaks. “God, you’re a real asshole sometimes.”
“Yeah, so you’ve said.” He shifts uncomfortably back under the blanket he’s been using. “You could’ve at least offered to sleep on the floor.”
“You’re the one who told me to take the futon!” Joyce whisper-yells.
“It’s called being a gentleman. You didn’t even offer otherwise.”
“You being a gentleman?” Joyce scoffs. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Hopper is silent for a long moment, and then he suddenly rises from the floor, a pillow and blanket under his arm. He begins to walk away and Joyce sits straight up. “Where are you going?”
“Anywhere that’s away from you.”
“So what, you're just going to go sleep in the car?” He shrugs. “Real mature, Jim. If you want to go just go, but I’m not watching your hostage for you.”
“Maybe you should go sleep in the car,” Hopper mumbles under his breath, earning a glare from Joyce who scrambles stock straight up in bed.
“You’re the one with the attitude here, Jim. Not me.”
“No? Pretty sure you’ve had a stick up your ass all damn day.”
“Yeah,” Joyce agrees, scrambling out of bed and over to him, nearly pinning him against the door. “Only because I’ve had to deal with you.”
“Oh shut up, Joyce. You’re not innocent here.”
“Make me!”
His lips are on hers in an instant, kissing her hard and soundly, a gasp squeaking out of her in surprise.
She shoves him away after a long moment, hands gripping his shoulders as the original surprise wears off. “What are you doing?”
“Shutting you up.” He keeps a hand on her waist, nudging her body closer to his and when she doesn’t back away from him he captures her lips again.
She kisses him back fiercely this time, lifting up on her tiptoes and letting her hands come to his face to keep his lips pressed to hers. He drops the pillow from his arm, instead wrapping it around her petite waist.
He begins to back them up, and Joyce suddenly grips his shoulders, hoisting herself up his body until he catches her in his arms, letting her legs wrap around his waist. He takes her move as the permission he needs to walk them towards the futon, laying her down on the lumpy old mattress and following her down, hovering over her petite frame and allowing his tongue to sink into her mouth, greedily tasting her.
Kissing Hopper is both strange and thrilling, given how she was planning his murder just minutes prior. Now she’s moaning into his mouth and tasting cigarette smoke on his tongue. Things between them always seem to go like this — changing at the drop of a hat. One minute she’ll be yelling at him, the next she’s being held in his arms crying into his shirt as her world crumbles down around her. He’s both her safe place and the one person who can always get under her skin.
Hopper’s hands sliding under her shirt draw her out of her thoughts, and she waits with bated breath for him to seek out her breasts. Internally begging for him to test their weight in his palms, feeling the rough calluses of his hands on her supple skin. Instead, he just grips her hips tight enough to bruise, keeping her pinned to the mattress as their mouths fight for dominance. She lets out a frustrated mewl beneath him as she squirms under his grasp, trying to urge his hands higher up her torso. He nips at her bottom lip in response. “Need something, Joyce?”
“ Touch me ,” She breathes, her lips brushing against his with the words.
“I am touching you.” He accompanies the words with a squeeze of her hips, his touch like fire on her quickly overheating skin.
“ Jim ,” She warns. “You know what I mean.”
“Oh it’s Jim now is it?” He smirks but does as she asks, sliding his hands up her torso and settling over her breasts with a firm touch. “This what you wanted?” She nods wordlessly, arching into his touch as her eyes flutter closed.
Hopper, the smooth bastard he is, kisses her closed eyelids, his fingers tracing deceptively gentle shapes along the tops of her breasts that are spilling out of her bra. His touch is better than she imagined it to be, it’s also softer than she thought it’d be — wanted it to be. She’s still pissed at him. After days of bickering back and forth, his attitude and fury towards her building up and reading its ugly head at random times, the blistering heat of summer, and his damn snoring, she wants to let out her anger in more satisfying ways. Ways that don’t include Hopper tracing soft little figure eights into her skin.
Feeling bold she nudges him away, feeling a burning sense of pride when he raises his eyebrows at her. She simply bites her lip and pulls her t-shirt up and off, tossing it to the floor. “Your move.”
“Always impatient,” He murmurs with a roll of his eyes, but he unbuttons his shirt nonetheless, his dark chest hair becoming revealed to her with every newly opened button. He barely has a chance to shuck it off before Joyce is sitting up, scratching her nails down his chest and making him hiss. “Jesus, Joyce.” He growls, watching her nimble fingers pull at his belt, flicking the clasp open with ease. “Needy?”
She glares at him first before drifting her eyes to the prominent bulge in his jeans. “And you’re not?”
His response is to simply shove her back onto her back, his fingers finding her jeans and fighting with the button fly, his much larger fingers fumbling embarrassingly. He gets it before Joyce can make a smart-mouthed comment and tease him for it, and he’s quick to pull the denim down her legs, rolling them into a ball before tossing them aside.
There’s no reaction time when he grabs her by the ankles, tugging her to the edge of the mattress. Her hips are covered in simple grey cotton and he smirks when he sees the small damp patch forming. He thinks of calling her out, teasing her for it and playing her at her own game, but she’s looking at him with lust-blown pupils, surprisingly quiet and he’s not so sure now's the time for games. He watches her intently as he kneels before her, looking for any sign that she wants him to stop. Instead, he’s granted a nod and he exhales so sharply at the sight that the streak of air lands exactly where she’s hot and throbbing for him.
He gathers his bearings at the mewl of surprise she lets out and presses his thumb against her, rubbing at her through the fabric. She writhes under his touch, practically begging for more which he grants her by way of his lips kissing her through the fabric.
“Scott Clarke make your legs shake like this?” He asks from in between her thighs, peering up at her as his fingers pull her panties lewdly to the side. Even though his words piss her off she can’t deny the fire that grows low in her belly at the sight before her. He looks hungry.
“Fuck off, Hopper. Are you seriously bringing him- oh !“ He cuts her off with a firm lick of her clit, her words dying on her tongue immediately. He pulls away smugly and her eyes flash darker.
“What were you saying?”
One of her small, but deceptively strong, hands falls to his head, gripping his hair tight as she presses his face down. “Shut up,” She growls, pleased when he takes her not-so-subtle hint and licks into her. “ Yes .”
His moustache tickles her heated skin as his mouth works her like a dream, suckling at her clit like a pro. It baffles her that she doesn’t need to guide him on how to pleasure her, that he simply knows , and she briefly thinks of making a dig at how he’s become so experienced in this, and she would if it didn’t feel so damn good. She tugs at his hair, eliciting a moan from him that vibrates through her entire body and makes her shake. “H-Hop,” She whimpers, struggling just to say his name. He looks up at her, his eyebrow-raising in response. “I want you inside me. Now .”
The son of a bitch rolls his eyes.
He rolls his damn eyes and makes her own roll back as he goes back to sucking on her clit, working his teeth into the mix and making her shiver. “ Oh ,” She’s close. He knows she’s close, can feel the way the muscles in her thighs tense under his palms, can taste as she grows wetter on his tongue, and when he chances another glance up at her she’s slipped a hand inside her bra, rolling a nipple between her fingers.
He growls at the sight, like a feral animal in heat and goes to town on her, invigorated by the sight. His tongue and teeth and lips work in tandem, wanting to pull her over the edge with just his mouth. He can play her with his fingers afterwards, but he needs to feel her come on his tongue right now.
Pointing his tongue he licks at her entrance, slotting into her and tasting her sweetness. She’s fucking delicious and she’s soaking his moustache with the way her hips are fighting against his grasp, desperately seeking more of him. “Hop, I’m- Please, I need-“ He licks into her even more. “I can’t- I, oh -“ His nose nudges her clit and she’s suddenly hurdling over the edge, grounded only by the firm grip of Hopper’s hands on her thighs.
She’s not sure how long she shakes in his hold, but soon she comes back to her body, shivering in overstimulation as he continues laving his tongue over her. She squirms out of his hold, away from his eager-to-please mouth and he obliges her, letting her body catch up to her racing heart.
She finally meets his eyes again, ocean blue now pupil blown and dark with lust. Lust for her.
Gazing down his body she finds his erection even more prominent now, unmistakable against the light-coloured denim. “Could give you some payback and leave you high and dry,” Joyce sneers, feeling like she needs to get back on an even playing field with him after having the best orgasm of her life on his tongue.
“Do it,” He challenges. “I can get myself off, and after that little performance it wouldn’t be hard to do.”
Her nose scrunches up at the thought. “You’re an asshole.”
“So you’ve said. Many, many times.”
“Yeah, well, you are.”
“What are we doing, Joyce? Am I staying or excusing myself to the bathroom?”
She genuinely contemplates it.
Her body is telling her to make him stay, but the stubborn part of her brain is telling her to make him leave, jerk off into his hand at the thought of fucking her. But the thought itself makes her tingle with anticipation and she knows there’s no reality where she sends him away and doesn’t end up knocking on the bathroom door and letting him bend her over the sink.
“ Stay .”
He drops his pants at her confirmation and her eyes widen at how his boxers tent. She can’t see him entirely but she can tell he’s sizable, bigger than anyone she’s had before, and the ache between her legs grows stronger. She shimmies out of her panties, surprisingly not embarrassed by his blatant stare. He looks like he wants to devour her and right now she’d let him do it.
He shoves his boxers down, kicking them across the linoleum when they pool at his ankles. He crawls over her much smaller frame, dipping his head to kiss her hotly and he moans into her mouth when she seeks out his tongue to taste herself on him. At the same time, her hand travels between their bodies seeking out his cock and wrapping around the thick length of him. He’s heavy in her palm, long and thick and he only hardens further at her touch. “God, your hands.” He moans. “ Want you .”
“ Take me. ”
The bed squeaks under their weight when Hopper rocks against her — letting the underside of his cock slide through her slick folds — and she panics immediately at the sound. “I swear to God if you wake Murray and he catches us I will kill you.”
He wants to fire back with some snarky comeback, but the idea of the often unpleasant man catching them in the act and thus having material to mercilessly tease them with is too damn scary to think about. “I got an idea,” And with that he’s scooping her up as if she weighs nothing and walks a few steps before setting her back on her feet, turning her around and pressing her down on the arm of the couch, finger tracing her spine. “How’s this?”
She swallows hard, the position so filthy yet so tantalizing. Their size difference only adds to the unholiness she feels bent over for him, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t send a delightful little thrill through her. “It’s fine,” She tries to sound unbothered, even a little bored but her voice trembles, giving her away instantly.
He lines himself up with her slick entrance and she’s so damn wet the head of him slips into her with ease, making her moan — loudly — in surprise. “Shhh,” He hisses.
“I’m sorry!” She snaps back, biting her lip as he begins to sink into her. Her whole body melts like butter at the feeling of him stretching her, he feels even bigger than he looks and she’s grateful for his mouth on her beforehand, making her slick and dripping for him.
He feeds himself into her inch by inch until she feels his hips flush against her ass and a cool stream of air hits her back as he whistles lowly. “You’re something else, Joyce.”
“No talking,” She bites back in response, using his own words against him with a cheeky little tone. “ You’ll wake Murray .”
He grabs the cheek of her ass, kneading it in his hand and using it as leverage to pull out of her, slamming back in with enough force to shift the couch. “Jesus, Hopper.”
This is gonna be quick. It has to be quick. They both know it, and it makes it all the more delicious on top of the very real possibility of being caught.
He wastes no time. Once she relaxes her muscles around him he starts pistoning into her, finding that elusive little spot inside of her that makes her shake and let out a wanton little cry that’s far too loud.
He rocks into her again, bumping against the spot with every thrust in, and she only seems to grow louder despite his continuous shushing that she just barely registers. She’s gone to the world, in a state of pure bliss and uncaring as he elicits sparks within her. Never in her life has someone made her feel like this.
She and Lonnie had been passionate in the beginning, but his rough hands stopped being fun when he started using them for more than her pleasure.
And Bob, sweet, sweet Bob. He was always more of a “ making love ” kinda guy, which was sweet and it’s not like he was bad. Just shy. And they hadn’t had the time to explore anything more than that. Still, she doubts he would ever make her feel like this .
“Fuck, you’re loud,” Hopper growls after a particularly loud whimper, and he’s suddenly grabbing her shoulder, tugging her up so her back is flush with his chest. His palm flattens against her breastbone, keeping her locked to him as he puts more force behind his thrusts. “‘s like you want us to get caught.” She fucking tightens around him. “Oh, you like that.” The realization catches him off guard. “Sorry to burst your fantasy here, but I’m not really up for Murray’s teasing so you gotta keep the volume down.” His voice is noticeably softer, his thrusts having slowed down in favour of harder ones that hit her just right.
“ Make me .” She moans the same words that started this ordeal in the first place, and she swears she feels him harden even further inside of her.
He captures her mouth in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, tongue sliding against hers and swallowing down her moans. “You close?” He mumbles the question against her lips and she doesn’t even attempt to speak, not trusting herself to keep her voice low, she just nods.
Using his free hand he guides one of hers to her breasts, urging her to touch herself like she had while he unravelled her with his tongue, and then he coasts his down her soft stomach, seeking out her clit. He finds the swollen nub with ease and circles it in time with his thrusts. At the same time he watches her roll her own nipple between her fingers again, only this time, he can actually see her do so.
They’re a picture, he’s sure; Joyce pressed taut to his chest, her mouth glued to his and her hand inside her bra, his own hand nearly wrapped around her throat to keep her standing while his other teases between her thighs. And all this because he was snoring.
Joyce breaks his kiss to gasp after a particularly hard ride down onto his cock, she’s been meeting him thrust for thrust and he’s beginning to feel her tighten around him, feeling her wetness seep out around him as it had on his tongue right before she came on it.
“Come on, Joyce. I got ya,” He promises, decidedly gentle as he whispers the words into her ear. It sends her over the edge quicker than she would have expected and the hand that was inside of her bra suddenly reaches for the one by her throat, guiding it up until he takes the hint and covers her mouth with it; effectively silencing her.
It hits her like a tidal wave, crashing over her and making her body feel like Jell-O as she all but sinks into Hopper’s embrace, thankful for his strong arms that hold the entirety of her body weight against him. He tries to fuck her through it but she’s gripping him like a vice, so tight and taut around him that he can barely move within her. He’s so close.
When she stops shaking quite as much he carefully rests her against the arm of the couch again and seeks out his own orgasm with a few firm thrusts. She’s still reeling with aftershocks, and the quivering pulse of her walls has him right there in seconds.
He pulls out just in time, stroking himself with firm, quick pumps as he paints her lower back white. Goosebumps decorate her skin at the hot splashes and he rests against her as they both battle to catch their breaths.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what you’d want me to do, this felt like the safest option.” He apologizes, reaching for the tissue box on the coffee table and wiping her skin clean.
“It’s fine,” She assures him, standing on shaky legs once he gives her the go-ahead. She doesn’t even attempt to reach for her clothes, just collapses onto the lumpy old futon and tugs him by the hand with her.
They lay in silence for a long while, their heavy heartbeats the only sound in the room.
Joyce turns her head, skin pink and flushed. “I’m still mad at you.”
“Not so crazy about you right now either.” But the smile he flashes at her tells a different story.
It’s going to be an awkward drive home.