I was bored at work the other week and this piece of smutty angst popped into my head. Enjoy

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters...You know the drill.

WEAK

He shouldn't be doing this. It was wrong and Jim Hopper knew it. He'd known it the first time it happened and every other time since. He swore each time that it would be the last, that he'd stop. Yet here he was again, balls deep in Joyce Byers, fucking them both to exhaustion.

Her nails raked down his back leaving bloody furrows in their wake, criss-crossing the one's from their previous couplings. He hissed, but the pain didn't stop him, if anything it spurred him on, made his cock harder, his thrusts faster.

Joyce's hands moved down to grip his buttocks, her legs wrapped round his hips.

"Yes!" she cried loudly. "Oh God! So good! So, GOD!"

This was a sure sign that she was apporaching orgasm. Hopper wasn't far behind her, his balls were tightening, getting ready to fill her up with his cum. He changed the angle of his thrusts so he'd hit the spot that was guaranteed to push her over the edge.

"OH FUCK" she cried. "Hopper I..."

At that moment she came, hard, rearing up and sinking her teeth into his shoulder breaking the skin. He roared and came, pumping rope after rope of cum deep inside her body. They clung to each other for a few moments, catching their breath, before he had the strength to roll off her.

The blood started to flow back to Hopper's brain, bringing the guilt with it. He slipped out of bed and pulled on his boxer shorts.

"Where are you going?" Joyce asked a little fearfully.

"Bathroom. I won't be long" he assured her.

In the bathroom, Hopper sat down on the toilet and put his head in his hands. How could he keep doing this? It wasn't that long since Bob died. Joyce was still grieving and he was taking advantage of her. He should stop. He wanted to stop, but at the same time he didn't. He was addicted to her. She only had to touch him and he was lost. For about the millionth time his mind went back to the first time. How it all started.

Will went missing again. Only for a few hours, he got lost in the woods playing Hide and Seek with his friends. But it was enough to bring all the old fears and worries back to the surface, for everyone, but especially for Joyce.

Hopper couldn't be there to comfort her, as Chief of Police he was in charge of the search party. By the time they found Will, it was El who found him and contacted Hopper using Morse Code, Joyce had worked herself up into a right state. She put on a brave face, fussing over Will and the other kids, dashing all over the house, but Hopper could tell the afternoon's events had taken their toll.

It was after the kid's had gone to bed that Joyce that it all happened. She dropped a glass, a silly thing on it's own, but it was the final straw. She cried. She cried like he had never seen her cry before. He held her until there were no more tears left. That was when it happened.

Joyce lifted up her head and looked at Hopper. Their eyes met. She reached up and kissed him. Next thing he knew he had her against the wall, her jeans hanging off one foot, his pants around his knees. They were fucking, like animals, hard, primal. It was over in minutes. They stared at each other, almost unable to believe what they'd just done. The awkward moment was broken by Will waking from a nightmare and calling for his mother.

The second time was at a party at the Wheeler's. It was the first time they had seen each other for more than a few minutes since the incident. Joyce was late arriving and a recently divorced friend of Karen's had Hopper in her sights. She was quite attractive with blonde hair and big boobs. At one time he would have thought nothing of taking her home or out to his car for a quickie. But he wasn't that man anymore. Her blatant flirting made him uncomfortable. She didn't get the message though.

It was Joyce who rescued him. She sized up the situation straight away, and in a very good impression of a jealous girlfriend, marched over, grabbed his arm and dragged him away, demanding to speak to him. He played along, grateful both for the escape and the chance to straighten things out between them.

However, it soon became clear that talking was the last thing on Joyce's mind as she dragged Hopper into a garage. They fucked on the hood of an old junker Ted had been working on since high school. It was probably the only action the car had seen in years.

It was like a fantasy for Hopper. Joyce sprawled across the hood of the car, with her legs wide apart, panties hanging off one knee, her shirt open, breasts bouncing with his thrusts, chanting 'fuck me' over and over again, before cumming wildly, bucking against him, scratching his arms and chest.

And so it began. They fucked whenever they got the chance. Her car, his car, the station, the back room at Melvads, countless bathrooms, behind the bleachers at school sports events, once they even fucked in the kitchen at her house, while the kids were in the other room watching TV, and the less said about that dinner presentation for the new mall the better.

Hopper hated himself, yet he couldn't seem to stop. It was the best sex he'd ever had in his life. Things had gotten that she only had to look at him a certain way and he was instantly hard.

Tonight the kids were at some charity sleepover at school. Joyce and Hopper had the whole house to themselves for the night. No sneaking around, no hurrying before they were missed, no struggling to keep quiet in case they were heard. They could do whatever they wanted.

Hopper had planned to use this time to talk to Joyce, to finally get her to open up about her feelings. But the best laid plans of mice and men...

When he knocked on the door it opened but there was no one there to greet him. He stepped in cautiously, calling out. The door slammed shut, he spun round ready for trouble. There she was! Joyce! Completely naked!

All rational thought fled Hopper's mind as he pushed her against the door and took her, har and fast. His clothes quickly end up on the floor and they proceeded to fuck all over the house, except in the boys' bedrooms, before nearly breaking Joyce's bed.

Thinking back he supposed it was good she had chosen him for all the denial sex, rather than fucking half the town as he had done. Enough things were said about her as it was, she didn't need 'slut' adding to the list.

Still that didn't make what they were doing right. The longer it went on the greater the chance of someone getting hurt. They had to stop, he had to stop, however much he craved her. She wouldn't stop it. For her stopping meant confronting the feelings she was running from. He needed to be strong, to say no, be a friend, not a fuck buddy.

Hopper went back into the bedroom, determined. He would be strong. He would not give in. What he saw stopped him in his tracks and his resolve crumbled.

Joyce was laid there, one hand on her own breast, pinching and twisting her nipple, the other was between her legs, ruthlessly rubbing her own clit. She saw him and with the hand between her legs, spread her pussy lips wide and gave him that look.

As Jim Hopper thrust his hard, aching cock yet again into Joyce Byer's eager, wet pussy, he knew this would never stop. As long as she needed him, he would come and cum. He couldn't resist. He was weak.

THE END

I'm thinking of doing a second chapter from Joyce's point of view. Would you like to read that? You know what to do.