#jim hopper angst | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strangererotica · 2 months

Text

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Perv!Dark!Jim Hopper x fem!reader • Jealousy, angst, posessive Hopper • Hopper has a corruption kink and some dark fantasies about reader

PART TWO

Chief Jim Hopper knew he had a problem; several, in fact. There was his moderate abuse of alcohol which bordered on severe, especially under times of heightened stress (which to be fair, seemed like most of the time these days). Then there was his pill addiction, the ones he found himself leaning on throughout the day when the effects of the previous night’s alcohol had worn off. But the problem Hopper had that bothered him the most, perhaps, was the one that involved YOU…

He was absolutely, unequivocally in lust with you. Every time Hopper saw you, the limited bit of feminism he’d learned over the years flew right out the window. He wanted you, and not in a pretty way, or any way that implied romance, flowers, dating, none of that. He wanted you carnally, in a way that almost frightened him because of the strength behind it.

Hopper knew he could control himself, at least physically. He wasn’t worried about that, wasn’t concerned that he’d hurt you. But mentally…he was out of control. The fantasies that filled his mind involving you were beyond pornographic; they were sinful. Everything sweet about you, everything pure, Hopper wanted to corrupt.

As the station’s new secretary, he saw you daily, heard your voice chatting on the phone and with your co-workers. And fuck, how he wanted you. He wanted to know if your pretty face would still look so sweet, so innocent, with his cum running down it? How distorted would your sweet voice sound with his cock rammed down your throat? Would you still be smiling if his hands were in your hair, yanking it backwards as he stretched your asshole beyond its capacity to take him?

Hopper knew he was sick. And sometimes, when he was alone and drunk, or high, he didn’t fucking care that he was sick. He didn’t mind being a monster, in those moments with his hand around his cock, lying on his back with his eyes closed, imagining your mouth around him instead. Servicing him, seducing him, your pretty eyes on his and only him.

He was your boss, after all. Your superior in every way. How Hopper wished he could take advantage of that superiority, to abuse his position of power as thoroughly as he longed to abuse your throat. It was all fantasy, of course, and therefore safe. A secret indulgence that Hopper took little pride in during sobriety, but that he found himself a slave to when intoxicated. Even at the station, he’d have no choice but to relieve himself in the privacy of his office.

Hearing your voice just outside his door, knowing what you were wearing as he’d seen you when he entered the station that morning, Hopper would lock his door and have his pants undone before he got back to his chair. He’d loosen the top buttons of his shirt, sit back and stroke himself to the sound of your voice beyond the door, hanging on your words, the gentle trill of your laughter. He’d imagine how pretty your moans would sound as he took you from behind, how sweetly you’d whimper as he pumped his cum inside you, then licked you clean.

Hopper would reach for whatever was nearby, usually his emptied coffee cup from that morning, and ejaculate into it. And what a poor substitute for your mouth it was, he’d think, breathless and leaning fully back in his chair, cock still leaking and twitching in his hand. He’d always toss the cup into the trash can and clean himself up, so no one suspected a thing. No one else at the station was aware of his perversions, and that’s how Hopper wanted it to be. He knew that if his secret got out, it would ruin his already faltering reputation within the community. Hawkins was his hometown, and had generally been sympathetic considering his past trauma and choice to return home after the death of his daughter. But this? Combined with the rumors of Hopper’s substance abuse, the fact that he was lusting after the new secretary at least ten years his junior would likely solidify his reputation as a degenerate and render him unfit for duty.

Hopper was lonely, very lonely. It had been months since he’d last had a woman, and even then, it was so casual and boring that it meant nothing to him. He hadn’t even wanted her, truthfully; she was just a wet, willing mouth to suck him off, parked behind The Hideaway bar downtown after they’d both indulged in far too many beers. She’d swallowed his cum, he’d fingered her in the front seat to climax, and that was the end of it. She’d left his car for her own, parked a few feet away, and they’d never seen each other since. She’d tried to get his attention in the weeks after, but Hopper wasn’t interested.

Because a week later, you’d come to work at the station, and Hopper’s world (at least, his internal world) had been flipped upside down. He’d never been more attracted to anyone in his life, never felt such an instinctive, primal yearning for a woman who he literally knew almost nothing about. But really, Hopper would ask himself, did he need to know more? He could see everything he wanted to take from you, from just one look in your direction. That body…those soft pink lips that would look even softer with his cum dripping out of them…Your eyes, beautiful eyes that he needed to see rolled back while gagging on his cock…

Hopper was reaching a breaking point, he feared. Although he knew he’d never hurt you, he needed to. He needed to know what you felt like around his dick, what sounds you’d make taking him. He wondered if you’d ever been with a man as big as him before? Hopper knew he was hung, at least three inches above the average man’s size. He was thick too, and he knew from experience that women appreciate a cock with not only length but girth as well. He knew he could pease you, could do things to your body that no other man ever had, if only you’d allow him. If only, if only, if only…

Hopper was drowning in ‘if only’s.’ One way or another, he would have you. The first step , he decided, was to approach you as a colleague. Not as your boss, necessarily, even though that’s what he was. He needed to be subtle about his approach, so as not to come across as abusing his position of power over you. This needed to go down smoothly, softly, a calculated plan of action that Hopper was dedicated to seeing through, from the beginning to where it ended with his cock buried inside you…

He planned to approach you at the station’s annual ‘Spring Fling,’ a community fundraising event for local charities held every year on the second Saturday in April. Hopper chose this event because it was outside of work, yet as an employee of the Hawkins P.D. you were sure to be there. The days leading up to the Spring Fling were the hardest for Hopper, both figuratively and literally. He’d never had to masturbate so often in his life, finding himself painfully hard through most of the work day just being near you. Thank god for the privacy of his office and the lock on its door. Hopper had begun taking extra coffee in the morning with the excuse that he was more tied than usual, with the actual intent of dumping the coffee out and using the empty cups to cum inside.

He groomed himself as usual the morning of the event, taking slightly longer to adjust himself in the mirror before leaving his trailer. Hopper had been a little self conscious about his weight in recent years, but he was tall and knew that his height worked as an advantage for him. Straightening in the mirror, pressing his shoulders back, he met his eyes in his reflection, their deep, intense blue. He was ready.

Hopper planned to make casual, friendly conversation with you, before inviting you to dinner. He’d control his body as best he could, force his eyes not to wander from your eyes to anywhere besides your lips, perhaps, and even then, for the briefest of moments. He needed to seal this deal, to secure your trust (although as Chief of Police and your employer, he was reasonably sure he already had it). No need to get ahead of himself, however, Hopper remembered. It was better to assume you had at least a neutral opinion of him before proceeding, rather than expect your automatic approval.

When he arrived at the Spring Fling, Hopper was surprised to see how just many people had turned out. The event usually drew a big crowd, but the majority of Hawkins seemed to be there this year. It was promising for the charities hoping to earn donations that day, but made Hopper’s effort to spot you in the crowd more difficult. He met up with officers Callahan and Powell, and lingered with them near the stage set up for music to be performed later, hoping that perhaps the trio of them would catch your eye and prompt you to say hello.

When Hopper did see you, he was awestruck. You were, to him, like something divine: an angel dressed in white, your long skirt moving gently in the light April breeze, the neckline low enough to display your breasts but modest enough to keep his mind actively wondering for more. Your hair was pinned up by bright yellow ribbons, tied together at the back of your head to create what looked to Hopper like the crown a princess in a fairytale might wear.

You were so effortlessly elegant, so perfectly innocent, moving through the crowd completely unaware of the effect you were having on Hopper, and likely most of the other men in attendance. Hopper opened his lips to speak as you approached, but was stopped short when he noticed the young man walking alongside you. Hopper hadn’t seen him before, had been so lost in the sight of you that anyone else near you had faded into the background of his vision, blurred by your presence.

The young man smiled and placed his arm around your waist, as if to claim you. Hopper’s jaw tightened; he’d seen this man before. Up close, he was barely a man at all, at least as Hopper perceived. This was a boy, in his early twenties Hopper assumed. Hopper wondered what this boy was doing for you, what he was doing to you, knowing full well that he could do it so much better, regardless of how good this boy was in bed-

“Chief!” you said brightly, pulling Hopper from his vindictive string of thoughts. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe this many people showed up today, isn’t it great?”

Hopper forced a polite smile onto his face.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I’m glad to see such a big turnout.” Hopper’s eyes narrowed slightly at the man with his arm around your waist. “You look beautiful, (y/n),” he said, and you smiled, cheeks going slightly pink. Because of course they did. Of course you blushed easily, because you were so sweet, so soft. And it made Hopper want to absolutely ruin you…

“Who’s your friend?” he asked, his tone slightly sharper than he’d intended. You smiled and looked up at the (admittedly handsome, Hopper conceded) man beside you. “This is Steve, my boyfriend,” you replied, your cheeks going pinker. The young man extended his hand to Hopper for a friendly shake. “Steve Harrington,” he said, his big brown eyes full of a joy that Hopper had only dreamed of ever experiencing. “My mom runs one of the charities participating here today, right over-.” He pointed awkwardly past Hopper, who didn’t bother to look, chuckling slightly. “-Over there,” Steve continued, adding “it’s good to meet you, Chief.”

Hopper studied the boy a moment longer, committing to memory all of the details about him he’d have to pick apart and analyze later. “Likewise,” Hopper lied, taking Steve’s hand and squeezing harder than he needed. Steve’s eyebrows rose but his smile remained polite. “Well uh, (y/n) tells me a lot about her new job,” Steve said, his tone pleasant as ever. Hopper’s eyes shifted back to you. “Does she?” he asked, and you smiled up at Steve.

“I tell him what I can,” you teased. “But not all the details; I can’t give away too much information about everything that goes on at the station-.” You playfully patted Hopper’s arm, and he swallowed. “-You know,” you continued. “Official police business and all that…”

Hopper knew you only were being friendly, but his paranoia made him wonder exactly how much you knew about what went on at the station? Specifically, his daily masturbation when you were just outside his door? Hopper forced the possibility away, refusing to entertain it. If you knew about it, you probably wouldn’t be so friendly towards him right now, or anytime for that matter. You’d probably think your boss was a pervert (and that’s exactly what Hopper knew he was) never speaking to him again unless you had to. You were too sweet, too innocent, to ever condone such carnal, almost animalistic behavior from a man, surely. At least, that’s what Hopper had always assumed. It’s why he wanted to test how far he could soil such a pretty little flower, to pluck every petal and see what you were capable of underneath?

“Only good things,” Steve assured Hopper. He nodded politely. “Well that’s good to hear,” Hopper said, but he wasn’t looking at Steve; he was looking at you. “(Y/N) is a real asset to the station. We’re lucky to have her.”

Steve smiled down at you warmly. “Me too,” he murmured, and you leaned into each other for a quick kiss. Hopper felt his blood boiling.

You noticed the odd look on the Chief’s face, and felt slightly embarrassed. Even though you weren’t at work, and in a casual setting, you worried maybe it was still unprofessional to give your boyfriend a kiss in this situation? In front of your boss? You were still learning the proper decorum for working at the station, and you hoped your innocent display with Steve hadn’t rubbed Hopper the wrong way. The last thing you wanted to be was unprofessional.

To lighten the mood, you decided to attempt a joke. “I think,” you told Steve, glancing from him to Hopper. “The reason the Chief likes me is because I get him those extra cups of coffee right away every time he asks for them.”

Hopper couldn’t help it; his eyes widened slightly. You were giggling, probably oblivious to the actual weight of what you’d said, but…Hopper’s paranoia lurched in his stomach. What if…what if you did know? He scanned your eyes for any sign of hidden meaning, for any indication that you were on to his behavior behind the office door. But all Hopper saw in your eyes was, as usual, a beautiful innocence that lay waiting to be corrupted…

Steve chimed in with “I’ll bet you need every last drop too, huh Chief?”

Hopper frowned at him, not understanding for a moment before he realized Steve was talking about coffee. “With your job, being so stressful, I mean.”

Hopper nodded, realizing that his dislike of Steve Harrington was rapidly shifting to hatred. “Yeah, it’s a job alright,” Hopper muttered in Steve’s direction, still avoiding looking at him.

You noticed a friend of your and Steve’s a few feet away, and waved to them. Steve saw them as well, and you both took a step in their direction. “Gotta go, boss,” you smiled warmly at Hopper. “See you Monday morning.”

Hopper grinned tightly, glancing very briefly at Steve when the younger man took his hand again. “Pleasure to meet ya, Chief,” Steve told him. Hopper didn’t return the sentiment.

The rest of the event dragged on for Hopper monotonously. Although he tried his best to avoid seeking you out in the crowd, he still found himself looking for the yellow ribbons adorning your hair, and the white dress that drifted so gently in the breeze. It was a welcome distraction in a way, having so many people around, speaking to him even though he had no interest in them or their conversation. There was only one person in the crowd that he cared about; and now, he knew that having you would be more of a challenge than ever.

Hopper felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned. He was looking at a woman, and it took him a solid thirty seconds to recognize that she was the woman he’d fucked in his car months ago. “Hello there, Sherrif,” she said with an overly flirtatious drawl, her voice and demeanor reeking of desperation. She slid her hand down Hopper’s arm, and he watched it, noting the harsh, tacky shade of her nail polish. He knew that you would never wear such a color. You kept your nails neat and pretty, painted in soft pastels like the flowers in your hair.

Hopper hated this woman’s hand on him. He hated the way her neon pink lipstick had transferred onto her teeth as she smiled up at him, waiting for validation. Hopper wondered how long it would take to wash that disgusting pink lipstick off his dick later? He smiled back at the woman, watching her light up at his attention, that he remembered her. There was nothing in this for Hopper, he realized, besides a quick fix to a problem only your body, your mouth, could solve for him.

He looked past the woman briefly just in time to see you and Steve leaving the event together, hardly able to keep your hands off each other. It was all the motivation Hopper needed to make yet another bad decision; and so he took the woman’s hand in his, and asked her a question he already knew the answer to: “What’re you doing tonight?”

235 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 1 year

Text

Plain Old Man - Jim Hopper x Reader

Summary: Jim can't figure out why you love him. After all, isn't he just a plain old man?

Contents/Warnings: hop's self-conscious :(, consensual + legal age gap, fem!reader

requested: hopper x younger really feminine reader. he think she’s the cutest thing ever and that she’s too good for him so he’s kind of upset, but she figures it out and sits on his lap and kissing all over his body </333 // slightly deviated from, but i hope you still enjoy it!

WC: 1.47K / navi

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

You love Fridays, because when Jim swings by the pizza place for your dinner, he stops into the boutique next door, and always brings you something. Last week it was a pair of dangly earrings, shimmery and green in the shapes of fairy wings. The week before that it was a silver necklace with a pearl charm, to match a set of earrings he'd gotten before that.

You're buzzing with excitement as you hear his car pull up outside, and you bypass the hand he's balancing the pizza on to wrap your arms around his waist. They interlock behind him and you squeeze, wishing you could latch yourself onto him forever and hang off of him like a sloth.

"Hop!"

"Hey, sweetheart." You feel a kiss placed on the crown of your head, his mustache prickling the skin there, "Let's get inside, okay? Pizza's gonna get cold."

Your nose is, too, so you let him nudge you back inside before it starts to ache.

"I baked us muffins," You inform him, taking the box from his hands and watching him toe off his muddy work shoes by the door, "They're blueberry, but I added that topping over them that you liked last time on the banana ones. It's a little sticky, and kinda clumpy, but it tastes the same!"

He nods through your ramble, eyes lighting up at not only the prospect of muffins but of the special crumble you lay over top. He ushers you into the kitchen, but when you reach for the lid of the pizza box he sets a hand on your waist.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" he pats the breast pocket of his jacket, and you visibly brighten.

"Oh! Oh," You gush, reaching eagerly for the bag that he hands you, crinkly plastic and purple-tinted, "Thank you, honey."

Your nails pry at the tissue paper that's wrapping whatever present you've gotten, and when you rip the tape away it reveals two barrettes, one pink and one blue. they're beaded, shimmery under the light, and they'll look adorable tucked into your hair.

"Hop," You gush, surging forwards to face-plant into his chest, "I love them! I can use them to twist my hair back like I've been doing lately."

"I know," He nods, leaning forwards to bump his nose into your own, his eyes crinkled at the corners with a smile, "That's why I bought them. I know the pins haven't been holding it."

You'd stolen two worn-out, dented bobby pins from Jim's nightstand, that you're fairly certain he'd used to pick locks with. It concerned you, but he hasn't asked for them back, so you're sure his lock-picking days are behind him.

"Put 'em in!" You urge him, unclipping the barrettes from the card they're on and dumping them into his large, rough hand, "You know how to do it, right?"

"I know how to pull your hair back," He scoffs, sticking one clip between his teeth so that his words muffle as he uses his hands to twist a chunk of your hair away from your face. He pulls it back and secures it with the clip, a snap letting you know it won't fall out.

"Perfect," He praises you (though you think it might be aimed at himself), and pops a kiss to the metal clip.

Your smile is infectious as he uses the other clip on the opposite side of your head, thick fingers twisting your delicate hair carefully. When it's pinned he kisses that side, too, and backs away to look at you head-on.

He smiles, but it's strange. It doesn't fade, per se, but the look in his eyes shifts, and your gut churns with nerves when they seem to be sad.

"Hop?" You tilt your head, watching him try and fail to focus on you instead of whatever's happening in his head, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," He nods, pressing a mediocre kiss to your cheek as he rushes for the pizza box behind you, "Yeah, sweetheart. You look real pretty. Let's eat, okay?"

He plates his pizza in silence, so you do too. But it's strange, because he always complains about the cheese not being gooey when he pulls slices apart, and there's not a peep out of him today. Just a downcast glance that tracks his feet all the way to the couch. He typically spreads out, eager to relax after a day of work, but he sits proper, plate on his lap and eyes on the tv.

You reach down to flick it on when you pass, and you sit closer to his side than you normally would. You feel his thigh tense up against your own, and you frown, glancing over at him.

"Jim," You croon, setting your hand cautiously against his thigh, "Are you okay? The truth this time, please."

"Yeah, honey, I.. I don't know." He shakes his head slightly, blinking rapidly and sighing, "It's fine, really. I like your clips, sweetheart, they look good."

He goes to take another bite of pizza, but you pull it out of his hands just before he can. It means that his teeth clack together instead of meeting the bread, and he looks bewilderedly at you, hand still outstretched.

"Hey," He frowns, "That's my pizza."

"I know it's your pizza," You plop it back onto the plate, setting it on the coffee table and taking its place in his lap, "It'll still be your pizza when you tell me what's bothering you."

He sighs again, and this time you feel it where your hands are braced on his belly. You smooth your hands over it, tracing your thumbs from the dip of his navel out to his sides.

"Tell me, Jim," You plead, "I'm worried about you."

He looks at you for a moment, head-on, eye to eye and face to face, and breaks. He murmurs a gruff 'fuck,' under his breath, head drooping down so that his chin meets his chest.

"Jim," You whine, tucking your fingers under his chin and lifting it so that he can't avoid your eyes, "Just tell me, honey. I need to know."

"You are.." He pauses, cupping your cheek and smiling sadly at you, "Gorgeous. You know that?"

"You tell me all the time," You promise him, shimmying your hips slightly to press your tummy further into his, "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I think you're too gorgeous for me. And sweet, and nice, and perfect. I'm a plain old man," He gestures to himself, his beige uniform and scruffy stubble, "That's it."

"You're not a plain old man," You chide him, pinching at the pudge of his belly, "You're the man I love. You know that, don't you? That I love you."

"I'd like to think so," His smile stays sad, "I just can't think of a reason you would."

"Well because- because you're.. you! Jim," Your brows furrow and you lean closer, nose-to-nose, "I love you because of who you are. Not because of any one specific reason, the reason is just you. I love you, Jim Hopper."

His hand cups the back of your neck and pushes you forwards. It's not a kiss, but your lips meet, as do your foreheads as your noses smush together.

"You're too good to me," He murmurs, his voice slightly raspy.

"No," You protest, pecking his lower lip in a sweet smooch, "I could never be too good to you. 'Cause you deserve the best."

"You are cheesy today," He chuckles, but you know it's not an insult as much as it is an observation, "Did those muffins have extra sugar in them? Something's got you all sweet."

"It's you," You grin, knocking your nose into his once more and digging your hands into the soft chub of his belly, "I'm glad you're home. I missed you all day, I wanted to call you a bunch but I didn't wanna bother you."

"You wouldn't bother me," He promises, smoothing a hand down your back, "But it's probably not good to hold up the line at the police station."

"Yeah," You hum sadly, and lean down to tuck your face over his shoulder in a much-needed hug, "It's better when El's here. She keeps me company."

"Speaking of," He glances at the clock, patting your back gently, "We need to go get her soon. Max's mom said she can't stay another night, she's got chores to do."

"Finish your pizza," You clamber off of his lap and rush for your own plate, "Because before she comes back, you're going to make me happy scream."

"Oh, yeah?" He laughs as you settle yourself back against him on the couch, attention finally turned to the television, "We should brush our teeth first, then. I'm not kissing pizza breath."

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

1K notes · View notes

eufezco · 2 years

Text

WE – Seeing your dad, Jim Hopper, for the first time after thinking he was gone forever.

Hopper!fem!reader x Steve Harrington

english isn't my first language

"Where's Steve?" You were so sorry to interrupt the conversation Robin and her crush were having, but you needed to find him. Robin's eyes opened wide and her hands stopped working on the peanut butter sandwich when she noticed how desperate you looked. If it wasn't because of that, she would've stabbed you with the knife covered in peanut butter right at that moment. Vicki was surprised to say the least thanks to your sudden interruption. "Robin!" You bit down your lower lip as you waited for her answer, starting to feel the metallic taste of blood coming right from where your teeth were sinking. Your friend shook her head, coming back to herself and looking to where she saw Steve for the last time. "He's–" Robin didn't get to finish because your eyes followed hers and you left quickly without saying anything else.

"We need to leave." Steve stopped folding the laundry when you appeared in front of him. "Shit, you're bleeding." Steve frowned, noticing the blood on your lower lip. You sucked on the tiny wound making it stop bleeding. "We need to leave." You repeated, grabbing his arm and starting to walk towards the door of the gym. Steve and Robin shared a look and Steve shrugged his shoulders to her, not knowing what was going on either. "Wait y/n, what happens?" He noticed that your hands were shaking yet your grip on his sweater sleeve was strong as he let you drag him out of there. "Please Steve, we need to leave. Now." You turned to look at him, Steve nodded once he saw your face. "I need you to tell me at least where are we going." You both got into his car, your legs bouncing non-stop and you playing with your own hands while Steve started the car. "You remember the cabin in which we used to live with El?" Steve nodded, not needing you to say anything else to start driving there.

The drive was silent, anything that involved you being quiet scared the shit out of Steve because you were always talking. He hoped nothing bad had happened. Once you got there, there were two cars already parked: the yellow pizza van, which you expected to be there because you knew El and the rest of your friends would be getting the cabin ready and one black car you didn't recognize. You almost jumped off Steve's car before he finished parking and he was forced to do the same to not leave you alone.

"Okay y/n, you need to tell me what's going–" You were so determined to go into the cabin that the only thing Steve could do was to follow you.

"Oh my god..." You mumbled as you stopped walking all of a sudden when you saw who was coming out of the house. Your eyes filled with tears as one of your hands went to cover your mouth in disbelief.

"Holy shit..." Steve said, both of his hands went to the back of his head. Also in disbelief.

You ran to your father's arm, hugging him and making him have to take a few steps backwards to not fall. Hopper smiled, his eyes also with tears. His big arms wrapped you up as his head rested on top of yours when you suddenly pushed him away. "Are you–? Is this–?" You squeezed his cheeks and ran your hands down his arms, Hopper nodded, the big smile never leaving his lips as he went to kiss your forehead. You were still in denial, eyes wide open and quickened breathing. You've dreamed so many times of being in between your dad's arms again that you needed to feel the warmth of his body and his arms around you to believe it. When Jonathan called the gym asking for you to get on the phone, you couldn't believe what you were hearing from him, resulting in you almost insulting your brother and hanging up the phone. But Jonathan wasn't a man of jokes. You didn't see Joyce coming out of the cabin to go and hug Steve because you were so lost sobbing in your dad's arms.

Steve couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. He understood at that moment why you were in such a hurry. Joyce came out of the house after Hopper and went immediately to hug him. Steve hugged the woman back, they could not hide how happy they were to see each other again. The last time they did, you were also a sobbing mess, not ready to leave for California, not ready to accept that your dad was gone, and not ready to separate from Steve.

"It's okay, baby. It's fine." Hopper made you separate from him to wipe your tears using his thumbs. "No! It's not okay, I thought– I thought you– I thought I lost you." You smacked his arms, hot tears still rolling down your cheeks. You went through a whole grief during these last eight months, thinking you'd never see him again, thinking he was gone forever. Out of Joyce and El, you were the most hopeless. "I thought I lost you too, baby." Hopper confessed, pulling you into another hug as you sobbed uncontrollably against his chest again. "But we are together again, and this time I'm not leaving." He let you hide in his arms for a couple of seconds more, caressing your back and kissing your head until you came down. Then, he cupped both of your cheeks and wiped your tears once more.

"You promise?"

Hopper nodded. You noticed his glossy eyes were focusing on someone else behind you so you turned to find who it was.

"Thank you, thank you so much." You went to hug Joyce, the woman hugging you back tightly and caressing your back. "There's nothing to thank, sweetheart."

"It's good to see you." Steve confessed, and Hopper showed him a little smile. Should Steve shake his hand? Should he–? It was too late because Hopper already pulled him into a hug. "Thank you for taking care of her." Steve hugged him as well as your dad patted your boyfriend's back. He shook his head. "I'd do it all again."

Hopper raised his eyebrows. "You mean, the part where I die too?"

"No! I–" Jim bursted out laughing. Steve did too out of nervousness, thinking that he had already screwed up. Their relationship before all the russian thing happened wasn't the best and you had not yet formalized your relationship at that time, but he caught you and Steve kissing once and that was when your dad didn't want to have anything to do with your boyfriend even before he was your boyfriend. Avoiding Steve when he was home, the door open three inches thing and only talking to him when it was strictly necessary. But he never hated Steve, he was just scared of you getting hurt. It was so comforting to see them hugging.

Steve threw one of his arms over your shoulder and pulled you closer to kiss your forehead, you closed your eyes and snuggled into the side of his body.

"Have you something to tell me?" Hopper looked at Steve by your side. You arched your eyebrows. "Have you something to tell me?" You pointed with your head at how your dad's arm hugged Joyce's waist, making the woman you were not afraid to call mom blush.

You realized that the rest of your friends were looking at the scene from the porch of the house with big smiles on their faces, especially El who did not waste a second more to approach you along with Jonathan and Will. You hugged the girl against your body while Steve hugged you. As you tried to relax, enjoying Steve's arm around you and getting your sister closer to you with your arm over her shoulders if possible, you noticed your dad's weight loss, not wanting to point it out because you could imagine the hell he had gone through. His mustache was also gone, so no more tickles in the good night kisses. And he was wearing a cap. Wow. A cap? You swore it was the first time in your whole life you saw him wearing a cap, and when he took it off, your mouth hung open. "Wow! Is this some type of Hopper family haircut? Should I go bald too?" Your hand went to ruffle El's shorthair and you all laughed.

This was your we. Two brothers that came out of nowhere but you loved as if you shared blood with them. A loving mom who loved you and took care of you as if you came out of her womb. The best boyfriend in the entire world who was everything you ever asked for. Your sister with whom you shared a feeling of mutual admiration for each other. And of course, your dad, that above everyone else, was your person.

1K notes · View notes

diordrysdale · 2 years

Text

thrill of the rush ⋆ jim hopper

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

word count ⋆ 1.4k

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

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

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

you had taken over his mind completely.

everything reminded him of you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

he knew something was going on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

┗━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━┛

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

#kali writes !#stranger things #Jim hopper #david harbour #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x female reader #jim hopper x female reader smut #stranger things season 4 #david harbour x reader #david harbour x reader smut #stranger things smut #Jim hopper fluff #Jim hopper angst

2K notes · View notes

dimepdf · 2 years

Text

PLAYING DANGEROUS. + JIM HOPPER

masterlist. / taglist. / any request?

synopsis. you would claim that the trauma of caring for your siblings and witnessing your mother struggle to put food on the table each day did not have a significant impact on you, but in truth, you had major fucking daddy issues.

pairing. jim hopper x reader

word count. 4.4k

genre and warnings. 18+, Byers!reader, afab reader, no plot just porn, literally just shameless smut, soft dom!hopper, back dimples, body worship, age difference(reader is 20 hopper is in his 40s), size kink, discreet sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, rough sex, choking, dad!hopper, manhandling, doggy, praise kink | - feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 💙 4.4k w.c.

Hearing the knock at the front door, you sigh with your head leaning down and eyes clenched shut, your fingers knotting in your hair to rinse out the rest of the shampoo, hoping that the shower water wouldn't spray cold water on you again.

Another knock echoed throughout the Byers family home, a groan erupting from your throat. "Will, can you get the door?" you shout.

Nothing but silence had descended throughout the halls.

Remembering shortly after that your little brother Will had asked you for permission to biking over to Mike’s house not too long ago, and Jonathan was out taking a weekend shift at work, something that you had to be shush-shush about to your mother Joyce. The woman who was always busy working.

Shivering as you had no choice but to step out onto the tiles, reaching down to twist the knob and turn off the shower, and drape a towel under your shoulders, your wet feet and hair trailing along the carpet as you quickly stomped to your bedroom.

Yanking on a shirt that was a bit too big, no doubt the one that you had stolen from Jonathan's closet, paired with cotton shorts that almost draped over your knees.

Another one of your brother's hand-me-downs that you found comfort in. Changing into the clothes in record time, as the knocking seemed to only get louder and more impatient.

Whoever was behind the door had a heavy arm and knew that at least someone was home, probably from your parked car in the driveway.

While lazily twisting your hair up into a ponytail to keep it from trailing water against your neck. You used another shirt to twist your hair into as you rushed towards the door, using your free hand to turn the knob and yank open the door, interpreting another harsh knock.

"Uncle Hop?" As you squint your eyes, enough to make out the lean, muscular man that stood stiffly in uniform in your doorway. Your hand masked your eyes from the sunlight as you gave the familiar face a gentle smile in greeting despite the gruff resting scowl that you had grown accustomed to on Hopper's face, you gave the familiar older man a gentle smile in greeting.

Hopper begins to look around the house before peering down at you, expecting your mother to be there instead of her only daughter. His gaze was dark, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Where’s your mom?" Your eyes squint as you lean against the edge of the door, one of your legs hooking over the other, shrugging your shoulders in response.

He looked intimidating with the shade of his hat covering the dark of his hair, his stare never seeming to soften paired with his rough, rumbling deep voice.

You knew Hopper as your mother’s high school boyfriend, much to her dismay, of course.

Ever since the whole upside, your little brother getting lost in the upside-down and you having to team up with a ragtag group of kids, it had seemed like Hopper had more of an importance in your life. Of course, from saving your family's lives, you all welcomed him with open arms.

He had a foot and some inches on you, not that you cared much. Most of Will’s lame friends were already inching up to your height despite almost being the legal age to drink. You just felt silly standing close to the grown 42-year-old man as you were a 20-year-old woman having to look up to talk to him.

His eyes roll in annoyance, and he grunts something under his breath, taking a drag from his cigarette before pulling it away from his lips and stomping it out with the heel of his boot.

"You shouldn’t be home by yourself, so don’t just open the door without checking who’s there first," Hopper grumbled, and there it was, the constant fatherly bickering, the type that would often come from his mouth where you could only stand stock still with your lips flattened and nodding your head to every sentence just to get out of the sudden lecture.

You swore that Hopper would always be the one to scowl at you for something, even more than your own mother did.

"It's fine, dude—" You wave your hand in the air. He doesn't look angry, just discontent as his eyes narrow down on your face.

You didn't want to attempt the slight shiver that rolled down your spine, guilty of the small crush you had on your mom's kinda-sort-of-boyfriend.

Ready to defend yourself from one of Hopper’s rambling strings of paranoia, you nor anyone else gave him much slack for it since everything that had gone down. If anything, they were more comfortable with the police officer always worrying about something than not caring at all.

Not caring just wasn't in Hopper’s nature.

"Dude," he mocked in a pitched tone, "it's not, and I need you to watch Jane tonight again. I gotta go do something out of town." You weren't shocked at the request. Being the oldest sibling from Will’s group of friends, you were also the most stably trustworthy.

The first time that you agreed to babysit Jane, your mother begged you the same day after her boss stuck her on the closing shift. The same day, she had arranged with Hopper to bring Jane over for the night while he had to drive to the next town to collect files for the police department.

It wasn't much of a big deal to you, and it seemed like you were the only one that thought so, as Hopper made the drive to the cabin the most nerve-wracking 30-minute drive you've ever been on.

You were so overwhelmed by the number of rules and routines he had for his preteen daughter that you were almost concerned about how much he would hover over her because of her supernatural powers.

You played it cool, letting the girl do whatever she wanted in a controlled manner, which was mostly talking about Mike and asking you for romance advice until she fell asleep in your lap with your nails combing through her hair. It was the easiest 30 bucks you had earned in your life.

On those days when Hopper would need you to stay longer, he would drop you off at the cabin at night and you would spend the time trying to occupy yourself with the old TV and trying not to notice too much the fact that you were in a cabin in the middle of the woods, finding a routine that worked more peacefully for you both.

Waiting for the morning, you would wake Jane up with a plate of waffles sitting on her bed, as you two would eat together and watch whatever was on TV and chat, using the rest of the day to maybe tidy up the beer cans Hopper would leave or try to clean out the harsh stench of cigarettes and old wood.

You hated doing chores at home, but at Hopper’s, you didn't really have anything else to do but clean until his truck came from down the road ready to take you back home.

That morning, all you did was grab a pair of sneakers from your room and an extra blanket from the living room sofa to wrap yourself in since the cabin had poor heating. You hopped into the passenger side of Hopper’s truck, being used to sitting in the police car.

The moment you had made it to the cabin, you greeted Jane and called into Joyce’s work, letting her know that you wouldn't be home tonight.

Once you had given the whole run down, you hung up the phone with an I love you and devoted all of your attention to the short-haired girl that sat with her arms crossed on the couch. Jane was just blankly staring at you, probably a little taken back by your bold fashion choice. You tilted your head at the young girl.

"You have…boobs." Jane finally spoke, her eyes squinting hard at the curved outline of your braless breast from the oversized shirt you had worn.

You glance down, pitching the shirt out, just realizing that you had forgotten to put on a bra in your rush to put on clothes. Wearing what you would normally wear as pajamas in the comfort of your own home, the main problem being that you weren't in the comfort of your home.

"Uh, yeah, guess I do. Thanks for reminding me." Nodding at the awkward comment, Jane seemed to glance at her own chest before crossing her arms tighter in thought.

"Alright, how about we do something interesting today instead of sitting around." The suggestion made Jane's face light up in excitement.

"Can we play hide and seek outside?" You already knew the answer to the question by knowing that Hopper even knew that you stepped foot outside. He would have a fit and probably find ways to ground you both.

"As much as I would love to, Hopper would kill us both. How about…we watch a movie?" You asked, glancing at the orange and pink sunset from the cabin's window.

Jane was quick to agree only on the terms that she would have the first pick on the movie and that you would let her eat just a few pieces of candy.

You had grown to adapt to the rustic environment of the cabin, being smart enough to gift hand-me-downs to Jane from your own childhood, from clothes to movie tapes, making it a routine to only watch rom-coms together.

It was a sweet moment that you had shared all the way until you both fell asleep, cuddled into each other's arms on the big armchair that was usually occupied by a man bigger than the two of you put together.

It was much later that Hopper's heavy footsteps could be heard from outside the cabin, the front door creaking open as he exhaled in the comforts of his home.

Shedding his coat and kicking off his boots, draping his coat over the top of the couch, still not noticing the two sleeping girls in his armchair as he turned to yank the window curtains closed.

"Hey brats, I'm back." His voice only causes you to stir in your sleep, not wake up. You had brought from home a blanket to snuggle your chin into.

Hopper’s attention finally snapped to the two of you slumbering in his chair. His mind only took seconds to progress the situation as he bit his lip to keep from making any more noise, humming in a pleasant acknowledgment to the calm silence that had filled the cabin.

"My bad." he apologized to no one in particular, shuffling to the small kitchen, impressed with the cleaned dishes that sat beside the sink. As he directed his stall stature towards the fridge using his foot to open the door and squatting down to pull out a well-deserved canned beer.

Popping the top open and taking a long swig, a relaxed sigh parted from his lips the moment he had swallowed the cold liquid.

Hooper took notice of the thin blanket you two were wrapped up in, dad mode kicking in as he was afraid that you two might catch a cold in the cold living room.

Carefully untangling Jane from your lap and into his arms, walking the girl to her own bedroom and tucking her under the thick blankets, careful not to disturb her too much from her sleep. His next target was you.

Finding you had only curled up into your blanket from the loss of heat, Hopper had debated whether to wake you up and drive you back home to sleep in your comfortable bed.

His final decision was to just move you to the pullout couch and layer you in blankets in hopes that you didn't get sick, but mostly because he knew there was enough space for the both of you to sleep on the huge pullout couch.

After pulling out all the cushions and setting up the pullout couch, Hopper turns to you, grabbing the bend of your knee and hooking his muscular arm under your shoulders.

He heaves you up into his arms, almost as if you had not weighed anything, gently setting you down onto the sheets of the bed.

As he went to grab extra blankets from the storage cabinet, you shifted in your sleep, nuzzling your face into the surface of the mattress turning to lay on your stomach as your shirt had hiked up unknowingly, exposing a peek of your skin from your back. returning with a clutch full of blankets and pillows,

Hopper's eyes can’t help but peek at the dimples peeking from the lowered waistband of your shorts, a deep exhale coming from his nose. As he clenched his eyes shut hard, mentally scowling at himself for even looking at you that way.

You were 20 years younger than him, let alone the daughter of the woman he had confusing feelings for. Hopper's head was a mess. His hand reached to pinch the bridge of his nose to clear his mind from the lewd thoughts. He settled a blanket around you.

He put a pillow by the side of your head before making himself comfortable on the opposite side of the mattress. Making sure the distance between the two of you was marked by a pillow as he wrapped himself in his own blanket, listening to the sound of your soft breathing to help him fall asleep.

Hopper was jerked awake a few hours later. The moon was still out as the only thing that had lit the cabin was the hum of static coming from the TV.

Hopper, groaning half asleep, had only taken a few minutes to notice that you had moved from your original position across the mattress closer to him in your sleep. You had passed the pillow barrier he had placed between you two and cuddled into his side.

You even got tucked under the same blanket as him, his mind too tired to fully comprehend that it was you he had cuddled in his arms. Hopper draped his arms around you, pulling you in closer to his broad chest, his eyes fluttering closed once more as he nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck.

That exchange was innocently cute until it wasn't.

Your backside was pushing up against his groin area, wanting to hug on as much heat as you possibly could in your sleep. Hopper quickly reacted, despite his mind not being active.

His hips rolled against the back of your thigh from the sudden friction; his hold tightened around you as he pulled you even closer, tucking you into his arms.

It was a tiring exchange of Hopper rutting his jeaned cock into the curve of your plump ass, your gym shorts riding up little by little, his breath picking up just as you had your eyes opened. You didn't know what to think.

You were suddenly awake, wrapped in a man's arms, feeling the jean material of his erection grind harshly against your skin. It was more than just confusion.

"Hop?" You mumble tiredly, struggling around his grasp to turn on your side. You sit up the moment he halts to continue grinding into your thigh. "Hop." You whisper once more, shaking his shoulder and tucking your thighs against your chest.

You can feel your heart beating against your chest. Your face flushed at the heated feeling between your legs, your thoughts not having enough time to head south as Hopper flinched awake.

"Shit Y/N, I’m so sorry I don't know what—" He had already retreated away before he could fully awake. You stopped Hopper from scooting away, your fingers pressing into the flesh of his bicep muscle.

"No please, please stay. It’s okay." Your voice fell into an alluring whisper, your feet already freezing from exiting the cold of the blanket.

Hopper’s eyes were blank as they glanced, almost like his entire body had to freeze just to piece together what you were implying. His head was shaking as you took action, tucking yourself back into the blanket and reaching to crawl back into his arms.

"No, we can’t, we can’t." He was raking his mind for any morally sane excuse to not fuck you right now, just as he was about to try to convince you that the feeling of your hand rubbing against his dick made him forget what he was about to say.

His mouth gaped open as he groaned at the unexpected contact, your mouth latching onto his lips to muffle the deep groan that had erupted from his throat.

"Jane’s sleeping, you gotta be quiet." is the one thing to ground him. Hopper leans into the kiss, almost like your lips were laced with sweet poison, you tasted so sweet.

Your mouth tasted like the candy you had eaten earlier, as his tongue slipped into your mouth. Hopper wanted to taste more as he took control, moving to lie on top of you with his elbows supporting him from putting too much weight on you as you unzipped his jeans and slipped out of your shorts.

Parting away from the kiss with a low gasp, leaning back to pull off his jeans, it gave Hopper enough time to glance at Jane’s bedroom door and then back at you, almost losing his breath from the sight.

Your limbs are all spread out just for him. Your shirt hiked up past your belly button, showing off the dark purple underwear.

Your hair was spread on top of the pillow, and your eyes were dark with neediness. He would see the traces of your nipples budding against the cloth material of the shirt.

From the way his heart was hammering against his chest, he felt like you were going to be the death of him, wetting his lips as he leaned down to capture your lips once more.

His cold fingers trailed cautiously from your stomach before fondling your breasts. Luring a moan from your throat, feeling his cold, rough fingers tease the peek of your nipples from beneath your shirt.

"We shouldn't do this." His knee threaded between your thighs, his entire chest swallowing your small figure compared to his.

"Don't stop, please." Your voice was soft, hinting toward still being a little tired in the back of your mind. Hopper was amazed by how desperate you were just for him.

It was like you were trying to give the poor guy a heart attack when you yanked your shirt over your head, exposing your naked breast to him.

Hopper couldn't quite understand if he was just having some sort of weird dream, but whatever was happening, he knew he was going to make the most of it, not caring what would unfold next as his cock had grown almost painfully hard, straining against his briefs.

He had to have you. Moving to lie on his side, he placed her arm over the hook of your knee, setting it over his thigh to spread your legs.

You parted your thighs as far apart as they could, your hips shamelessly bucking against nothing, the sensation of his hand brushing down your belly and over the damp cotton that had covered your clit, his finger bending to hook the material and move it aside.

His mushroom tip brushed along your entrance, wetting himself in a thin wet layer of your arousal.

The moment he had adjusted himself to push just the head of his cock inside, coaxing a drawn-out moan from the bottom of your throat.

"Oh god, you feel so fucking good," Hopper grunted from the nape of your neck, his body shivering as you were already clenching around just the tip of his length, not used to his wide girth.

Hopper reached his hand from behind, his big hands covering the entire bottom half of your face, muffling your whimpers as he slowly pushed his entire length inside of you.

"You look so perfect like this." He praised you. Hopper tried to be as patient as he could as his hand fisted around the pillow under your head, feeling your squirm as you tried to get used to his dick bullying the inside of you.

The thrust was unbearable from both sides, the size of him feeling like you were about to split into two and the feeling of your small cunt choking to take his entire cock inside of you.

His pace started slow, listening to your breath pick up with every thrust. Every time he would fill you up with the new sensation of being completely full, making you feel so light-headed your eyes roll to the back of your head as Hopper trails wet kisses down the curve of your shoulder.

"My dick isn’t that big, pretty girl. I know you can take it." The feeling of his breath fanning against the back of your neck, his hand moving down from your face to wrap firmly around your neck, you were careful with your volume. The fear of waking the child in the other room was still in the back of your mind despite being fucked stupid.

"Lay on your stomach." Before you could even fully process the request, Hopper was already using the palm of his hand to push your shoulder fully into the mattress, his hands grabbing onto the curve of your hips, arching your ass into the air while using his hairy thighs to spread yours apart.

"Atta fucking girl." Hopper cursed, as his pace picked up, his hips snapping into you with more force. Your voice was tired and broken from mindless rambling and begging.

"Saying so much and so little at the same time, you're so adorable." Hopper teased The second your hips flexed from your first orgasm, whimpering his name under your breath as he continued to fuck you through it, his pace not stuttering as he fucked you with no signs of mercy.

The sounds of the old mattress springs gave in under every thrust, along with the occasional grunt that would slip past your lips.

Your teeth bit into your pillow to keep yourself silent as his cock plunged deep inside of you with every thrust, your warm insides urging him deeper with every twitch and clench.

Your eyes prickled with tears at the overwhelming need building in the pit of your stomach. "That's it. Take it just like that." and that you did. His hands fit perfectly around the lower part of your torso, guiding your hips.

You loved the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you, how his hairy chest felt resting against the smooth skin of your back as he coaxed another orgasm from your tired, sweaty body.

You twitched under him as he became irritated by your fidgeting, pinning your hands behind your back and angling your ass in the air, the clear sound of his balls slapping against your skin echoing along with the bed springs you were being fucked against.

"You like it when I ruin you like this?" You could feel his hand squeezing around your breast, the other rubbing rough circles into your clit with the jagged skin of his thumb.

"Oh god, yes, yes." You horsley cooed.

Hopper couldn't recall the last time he felt anything so hot and tight around his dick. His mind was in a trance, watching as your ass rippled like jelly against the snap of his hips with each thrust. He hadn't seen anyone bend so attractively in this position in a long time.

It took one hook under the bend of your knee to turn you over to lie on your back, used to your limbs being so easily controlled by him, as Hopper was quick to bury himself back inside of you.

Your hips twitched up at him as he grabbed your thighs and hugged them both to his chest, lifting your ankles over his shoulders as he leaned down, using his forearms to not crush you with all of your weight. Your body wasn’t flexible, but it was definitely adaptable.

The feeling of his breath fanning against your face threw you over the edge, losing count of how many times you had come undone, your body having a mind of its own that Hopper had control over.

Hopper rolled his hips against yours, his chest reaching deeper than ever, much out of your control. Your mouth, having a mind of its own, was not able to help the string of broken mumbling nonsense that moaned from your lips.

Hopper just couldn't help but be turned on by the sight of ruining you.

He knew it was wrong, but he just couldn't bother to restrain himself any longer, surging down and capturing your lips with his mouth, your pathetic whines muffled down his throat.

Moreover, your weak whines filled the small room along with the wet sound of Hopper pistoning inside of you.

An abrupt sound, making your heart shake a beat, too tired to move any faster than Hopper did. The man covers your body with a blanket before wrapping himself in another and settling in next to you.

Next was the slow creak of Jane’s bedroom door, the short-haired girl peeking from it tiredly, her hand rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she glanced around the room half asleep.

"Hey kiddo, are you okay?" Hopper asked, trying to mask his breathless tone as well as using a pillow to cover up his still hard erection. Jane only peered at the man before taking a glance at you.

Unbeknownst to the man that sat next to you, Jane could see that you were asleep with just the top of your head poking from the blanket.

"I thought I heard something. Wanted to check on Y/N." she mumbled, still holding onto the doorknob. Hopper finally took notice of your sleeping state, an exhale of disappointment passing through his nose before giving a small smile at Jane.

"She's fine, kid. Why didn't you go back to bed?" Jane was too tired to object. The young girl followed the order. She shut her door and crawled back into the comfort of her bed as Hopper tried to make himself comfortable lying on his back.

[ ❥ ] taglist. @eichenhouseproperty @lluvin @hawkins-pd @lilbean-2002 @galialupin @stevekempscocktails @sarab77777 @nevermore66 @demeterly @dasespicyagh @balanceofgray @milquetoast-on-acid @random-ass-shit-ig @teddeb3ar @teresalesbian @misaamaneswifey @th0mas-ed1s0n @alexisapiki @sagethephantom @lazyflowercandy

@vanitatumvanitas @korosecret @dreamerwasfound @darkqween900 @rosebarnes @bubblebea123 @givemehickeysplease @ewhomo @his-darling-ghoulette @https-bucky @zeroisbored @thebookabyss @eternal-armin @axen-gers @ateezlizard @momos-peaches @leebodeckerscockslut @ianreads @lucy-bunny17 @touchmetouchmetouchme @stevekempscocktails @speedybasementcollection @x-cryst4l-c0v3-x @indiffrents @itscuttingedge @holefornegan @tc-hopelesss @pandaispunk @faceache111 @aleyourwife

tap here to be added to taglist.

2K notes · View notes

empresskylo · 2 years

Text

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | you start working at the hawkin’s police station as a secretary and hopper takes a liking to you against his better judgment. [big ol’ grumpy hopper x smol ray of sunshine] 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | jim hopper x fem!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | none – just angst and fluff. 𝐰𝐜 | 2.8k+ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | thought about ending this with smut but i have another idea for a grumpy!hopper x sunshine!reader smut and i didn’t want to make them too similar.

*•.¸♡masterlist *•.¸♡ao3 *•.¸♡twt

It didn’t take Hopper long to notice you when you started working at the Hawkin’s Police Station in the fall of ‘83. In fact, it took no time at all.

Brooding and willfully ignorant to the more personal matters happening around him, Jim Hopper had no idea a new secretary was starting. When he slipped into the station on your first day, nervous to make a good impression, Hopper halted in the same doorway he had been stepping through for years. His eyes were still hazed in sleep and red from a hangover, but that didn’t prevent him from spotting you.

He had only made it a few feet into the station before he froze and turned back around to face the substantially shorter girl smiling brightly up at him.

“Hi,” you said a bit too cheery for such an early time in the morning.

Hopper furrowed his brows as he examined you. His eyes traced along your long dress that clung to your waist and the way your hair was pulled back exposing your neck and collar bones. How was such a sweet thing like you making the chief of police at a loss for words?

Flo had noticed his hesitation so she took it upon herself to prevent the situation from becoming painful and introduced you to him.

He grumbled back what sounded like a hello and went straight to his office.

He had left you feeling a bit pathetic for already making a bad impression on your boss your first day on the job.

Jim made it a point to avoid you as much as possible, treating you just like everyone else: at a distance. This left you frustrated. Why did all your coworkers take a liking to you except for him? Was everyone else just being polite and you were actually insufferable and Hopper just didn’t have it in himself to put up a facade?

Flo told you not to mind him. “He was dealt a terrible set of cards,” she said waving her hands until one settled on your shoulder. “Don’t take it personally, dear. It takes a lot to get him to not act like a giant brute.”

That didn’t make you feel that much better.

It wasn’t until late one night that you realized you had been wrong about Hopper. Usually, Flo stayed late with Hopper, but that night, she had plans to get to. You offered to cover for her. It got close to midnight before Hopper made his way out of his office, his coat and hat on, ready to go home. You watched as he absentmindedly strolled towards you. “Alright Flo, think I’ve taken up enough of your–” He stopped in his tracks when he made it to the front desk and saw you where he expected Flo to be.

You meekly waved at him, hoping he wasn’t going to be mad at you for not being Flo.

He glared at you for a moment, making you gulp. And yet, behind his eyes, he was cursing himself out for being so drawn in to someone so delicate and innocent. He would do nothing but ruin you.

“Flo had a family thing to get to…” you mumbled out nervously, wanting to break the silence. You felt ridiculous for acting so shy around him. You just didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

“Right.” He nodded, snapped out of his thoughts. He continued heading out of the station with you following close behind.

You watched as Hopper made his way to his truck, the sounds of his boots on the pavement echoing in the quiet night.

He opened his driver’s side door when he saw you still standing by the front door out of the corner of his eyes, illuminated by the street light. He paused and shouted back towards you. “What’re doing?”

“Oh,” you said surprised by his booming voice. “I’m just waiting for my ride.” You gave him a smile.

He took a moment, arguing with himself that interacting with you a bit wasn’t going to be the end of the world. Hopper was a grown man; he could control himself. He has talked to plenty of pretty women before. You were no different. At least, that’s what he told himself.

He shut his door and walked back over to you.

You tried not to blush as he came stomping towards you, his eyes locked on yours and his hands slouched in his jacket pockets.

He stood beside you and leaned against a post by the entrance doors, pulling a cigarette out and lighting it.

“Y-You don’t have to wait with me. I’ll be fi—“

“Not gonna leave you here in the middle of the night. Not with everything that’s been goin’ on lately.” His words were stern so you just nodded in acceptance.

Of course you didn’t want to have to wait with him, he thought. But he couldn’t be more wrong.

After a few wordless moments passed when you spoke in a timid voice. “Thank you.”

In all honesty, you were a little worried about having to wait alone for your dad to pick you up so late by yourself. Hopper’s company made you feel… safe.

He peered down at you and blew out a puff of smoke.

“You always this shy?”

You looked up at him wide-eyed, his words catching you off guard. Was it that painfully obvious?

“I– No.. It’s… I don’t know. I guess you just…intimidate me a little…” your words trailed off, worried you were being rude by telling him that.

Hopper felt something shift in his stomach. You were intimidated by him? Fuck, no shit you were. He’s done nothing but lurk over you and bark orders out since you met him almost a month ago.

Usually, bashfulness was not something he would have admired. But, god, if you weren’t a breath of fresh air.

He shifted his stance so he could look at you better, your face flickering in the streetlamp’s light. “Sorry about that, kid. Guess I can be a little… unwelcoming. But I’m glad you’re working here.” He took another drag of his cigarette. “You brighten up the office. And we needed some of that.”

You felt your cheeks red from the cold and smiled. Your heart was racing at his words. You brighten up the office. Maybe he didn’t hate you after all.

It was a stormy night when you realized you were getting feelings for Hopper.

You were sitting at a big booth in a diner right down the street from the station with the rest of your coworkers. You were celebrating Flo’s 30th year working for the Hawkin’s PD.

You stared at the empty plate in front of you, pie crumbs sprinkles across the white ceramic surface. You laughed when you heard something outrageous from Flo’s mouth. How many drinks has she had?

The place was pretty empty apart from your group, so when one of the guys chose a popular song on the jukebox, a mingle of bodies broke out in dance.

You found yourself giggling along as you watched them make a fool of themselves, happy you worked with such great people. Hopper slid into the booth beside you–he needed a seat after having one too many drinks–as he watched the others goof around. You tried to stop yourself from panicking at his close proximity.

Crash

A loud rumble of thunder broke the night air following a flash of light. It sounded like shattering glass as it echoed off the pavement. You jumped and closed your eyes. You were never a big fan of thunder.

Hopper looked over at you and raised an eyebrow. He was about to make a joke about you being scared when another crash sounded. This time, Jim’s arm wrapped around you and pulled you into the side of his chest. “You’re okay,” he muttered. You tilted your head to look at him but he was already looking away, busy saying something to someone else across the table. You could feel the rumble as he laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up, Hopper’s hand resting firmly on your upper arm.

After a few moments, Hopper unhooked his arm. He could see the way your body tensed again as another thunderous explosion rang through the air. His hand stretched out and rested on top of your own that sat in your lap, wanting to calm you. He would never had done that if it wasn’t for his high blood alcohol level.

You tried to play it cool, but you felt your heart flip when he absentmindedly started rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb.

Hopper found himself flexing his hand late into the night when he subconsciously remembered the feeling of your skin against his.

Then there was the whole crazy alien encounter bullshit going on in Hawkin’s. Weird shit was happening all the time. The little boy who went missing then came back to life. The monsters in the wall. You had been in the heart of it along with Jim, somehow being the one wrapped up in this mess.

You followed him closely as you walked through the woods, the only light source coming from the moon and Jim’s flashlight. He reached his hand out behind him. “C’mon.”

You took his hand and his fingers wrapped around yours, pulling you along behind him. You tried to not think about the way his hand engulfed yours.

A bit later in the night, when what sounded like a large dog growling, you jumped and went running towards Hopper.

“What is it?” He asked concerned as you came darting towards him. You looked over your shoulder, making sure no monster was chasing you, and you collided with Hopper’s body, making him stumble against a tree root and fall backwards.

He caught you on top of him as you both tumbled to the ground.

Your breathing was loud as he clung on to your arms. You looked down at him, your hair hanging above his face and tickling his cheeks.

“What?” He asked again, his voice laced with concern.

“Thought I heard somethin’,” You whined.

You gulped when you realized how close you were to him, your body laid against his, your knees holding you up on either side of him. You had thought he fully noticed at the same time you did. You could have sworn his cheeks began to pink. He felt his breathing break as he felt your weight against him. God, he wanted so badly to reach out and touch your cheek. He wanted to pull you in to him and–

Shit, shit, shit. This was not good.

Your lips parted as you stared at one another until Hopper broke the moment by pushing you up as he got to his feet.

“You okay?” He asked as he straightened himself out. You nodded, unable to look at him for fear he might be able to read everything you were thinking.

And then the day Jim was tormented with the idea of asking you out. He tried to push down this rising feeling he had for you, but with each interaction, it grew stronger. The sugar laced in your words. The way you would laugh and smile all the time. You were everything Jim wasn’t.

He figured you’d be disgusted if you knew the way the chief thought about you. What would a pretty young thing like you want with a big old grump like him?

And still, he found himself staring at you all the time. Where was his self-control?

Sometimes he’d walk into the main room at the station and lean against the door frame as he talked to one of the guys. But his eyes would drift over to you while you stood at the front on the phone.

And a few times when you had handed Hopper some files, your fingers brushed against one another and it felt like his skin was burning. He could have sworn he saw your arms get goosebumps.

And then that one time he was busy yelling at some drunk asshole, his hands gripping the man’s shirt and moving him around like he weighed nothing. He looked over at you and your face was bright red as you watched him in action. He felt something tingle in his stomach.

So, he got this stupid idea to ask you out. But he was never going to act on this thought. It was simply an idea. An unattainable figment of his imagination. Something he just liked to imagine, thinking about what it would be like if he did ask you out and you had said yes.

Then, late one night, only a few stragglers left in the office, you appeared in his doorway while he scribbled on sheets laid on desk.

“I’m heading out for the night,” you said sheepishly.

He glanced up at you and gave a half-hearted grin then looked back at his papers. You rolled your eyes. “You really should call it a night, Chief. You can’t keep working these 12-hour days.”

“You’re starting to sound like Flo,” he chuckled.

“Well, I am around her enough.”

He put his pen down and looked back up at you. “You’re probably right.”

“I know, I’m always right.”

“Don’t act smart,” he grunted as he slowly stood and slid his coat on. You tried to hide your grin as he walked behind you out of the station.

You were going to make the first move and ask him to get coffee. It might end in humiliation, but if he rejected you, maybe you could play it off like you meant just as friends. It was definitely a bad idea, but you couldn’t get this man out of your fucking head.

When you slipped into the brisk Autumn air, you took in a deep breath and turned around, “Hopper, I wanted—“ You were cut off when he bumped into you. You hadn’t realized he was so close behind you. You froze and looked up at him. He knew he should have backed away immediately after colliding with you, giving space between your bodies, but you drew him in, your soft eyes capturing his. You felt your breath get caught in the back of your throat.

“What were you saying?” He asked quiet and breathy, his eyes never breaking from yours.

You stuttered, “Oh. I-I…” You found yourself at a loss for words, unable to finish your sentence from earlier. You couldn’t even remember what you were thinking.

It felt like your heads were slowly leaning into one another, and neither of you seemed to be able to stop yourself.

Then, as crazy as it sounded to you, suddenly his hand was on the side of your cheek and you gasped at the contact. “Hop…” you began, but your words faded again as your eyes fluttered, his thumb stroking your jaw.

He crashed his lips against yours and you immediately reciprocated. Maybe a little too eagerly you went onto your toes and wrapped your arms around his neck. He pulled you in, his hands dropping to your waist. You felt his tongue slide along your lower lip and your lips parted. You pushed yourself against him making him stumble backwards, your kiss never breaking. You heard a rumble in his chest as you pressed your body flesh against him, his internal furnace making you heat up like you were on fire. You attacked each other feverishly, months of pent up longing finally escaping through this act of touch. He couldn’t get enough of the way you tasted. Hopper felt himself holding back–he wanted nothing more than to slam you against the side of the building and take you right there. God, he wanted you so fucking bad.

The sound of someone coming made you both abruptly pull away.

You stood beside him trying to look casual as you both caught your breath.

Hopper was about to turn to you and apologize, his mind was telling him you only kissed him back because he was your boss and you didn’t want to reject the person who controlled your paycheck. But then your sweet voice, quiet and breathless, sounded before he had the chance. “Did you want to get a coffee or something?”

He looked at you and furrowed his brows. You shrugged your shoulders and he felt a smile rise to his mouth. You were impossibly gentle as you spoke, your words sugary like candy, the complete opposite to him. And, fuck, did he have a sweet tooth.

#jim hopper #hopper #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper fanfic #stranger things #hopper st4 #chief jim hopper #chief hopper #jim hopper x reader #insert fic #hopper x reader #stranger things hopper #jim hopper fluff #fluff #angst #jim hopper angst #stranger things fluff

1K notes · View notes

vilentia · 1 year

Text

Finding Love at the Diner

Jim Hopper x reader

Summary: Can Jim overcome his past trauma and insecurities to pursue a new relationship, or will his fear of vulnerability hold him back?

***

Jim Hopper and you have known each other for a while, often seeing each other at the diner and exchanging pleasantries. However, tonight is different. Jim walks into the diner after a stressful day at work and locks eyes with you, feeling a strong connection that he's never felt before.

Despite his attraction, Jim hesitates to approach you, feeling insecure about his past and unsure of how to express his feelings. He's been hurt before and doesn't want to put himself in a vulnerable position again. Jim worries that his past trauma will prevent him from having a healthy relationship and that he's not good enough for you.

You see Jim looking hesitant, standing by the door, and invite him over to sit at your booth.

"Hey Jim, what's up? You look like you've had a long day," you say, giving Jim a friendly smile.

Jim feels relieved that you've noticed him and welcomed him over, and he relaxes into the booth. "Yeah, it's been a rough one. Thanks for noticing," he replies, feeling grateful for the invitation.

The two of you start chatting and laughing, and Jim can feel his guard slowly coming down. He finds himself opening up to you, sharing things he's never told anyone before.

"I used to come to this diner a lot with my daughter before she passed away. It's tough being here without her, but something about this place always makes me feel a little better," Jim shares, feeling a little emotional.

You listen with empathy, and you share your own stories of loss and grief. Jim feels a deep connection to you, and as the night goes on, you start talking about your dreams for the future.

"You know, I've always wanted to take a road trip across the country. Just me and someone I care about, seeing all the sights and having new experiences," Jim says, looking wistful.

You nod, feeling the same way. "I've always wanted to try skydiving. I know it's scary, but I think it would be exhilarating," you reply, smiling.

As the night comes to a close, Jim musters up the courage to ask you out on a date. "Hey, would you want to grab dinner with me sometime? I know a great little diner a few towns over. It's nothing fancy, but the milkshakes are out of this world," he says, feeling a little nervous.

You smile and nod, "I would love to, Jim. It sounds like a great time."

The night of the date arrives, and Jim is a bundle of nerves as he picks you up at your house. He's gone all out to make the night special, dressed in his best clothes and bought a small bouquet of flowers.

"Hey, you look beautiful," Jim says, his voice low and warm as he takes in the sight of you.

You blush, feeling shy yet excited. "Thanks, you look great too," you reply, taking in Jim's handsome appearance.

You drive to the cozy diner Jim had mentioned, and as soon as you walk in, Jim feels the tension release from his body. The diner is small and cozy, with a jukebox playing oldies tunes and a menu full of classic American fare.

As the night goes on, you both relax and open up to each other, talking about your past and your hopes for the future. Jim shares his fears and insecurities about his past and his worries about being in a relationship again.

"I don't want to hurt you or be hurt again, you know? I feel like I'm damaged goods sometimes," Jim admits, feeling vulnerable.

You listen with empathy, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "I understand, Jim. We've all been hurt before, but that doesn't mean we can't try again. I believe in second chances," you reply, looking into Jim's eyes.

Jim feels a warmth spreading through his chest, and he leans in for a sweet kiss. You both feel the spark of something new and exciting between you, and as you part, Jim feels happy and hopeful for what's to come.

The night ends with you both walking to the car, hand in hand, and sharing one more tender kiss. You both know that this is just the beginning, and you feel excited for what's to come.

Over the next few weeks, Jim and your relationship blossoms, and you start dating more frequently, often going to the diner you had your first date. You continue to share your stories and dreams, building a deep connection.

Jim still struggles with his past trauma, but you are patient and supportive, always there to lend an ear or a shoulder to cry on. You enjoy many fun and romantic dates, such as stargazing, picnics, and even a weekend getaway to a cabin in the woods.

One day, Jim and you are sitting at the diner when Jim suddenly looks up at you with a shy yet determined look on his face. "Hey, I know we've only been dating for a few weeks, but I just have to say this... I love you," Jim says, feeling his heart in his throat.

Your face lights up with happiness, and you reply, "I love you too, Jim. I've been wanting to say it for a while."

You share a sweet kiss, knowing that you're both ready for the next step in your relationship. You start to make plans for the future, like moving in together and even talking about marriage.

Months later, Jim and you are living together, happy and in love. You have built a life together, filled with love and laughter. Jim's insecurities have faded away, and he finally feels like he's found his place in the world with you by his side.

As you lay in bed, cuddled up together, Jim looks over at you and takes your hand. "I know I've said it before, but I just have to say it again... I love you," Jim says, his voice filled with emotion.

You smile and squeeze his hand, "I love you too, Jim. Always."

#hopper x you #hopper x reader #hopper x y/n #hopper x fem #jim hopper #chief hopper #hopper stranger things #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper x you #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper angst #jim hopper oneshot #jim hopper stranger things

104 notes · View notes

bettercallwillow · 2 years

Text

@reesiescup here u go darlin !! || my 1k celebration

pairing: jim hopper x fem!reader

summary: jim catches you sneaking out to a party

warnings: swearing, angst, kinda mean jim, reader is in college (eighteen y.o), fluffy ending

You huffed in frustration as you opened your bedroom window. If your parents would have just let you go out tonight you wouldn't have to risk breaking all your limbs trying to sneak out. Alas, they just had to be overprotective, so here you were.

After slinging your bag over your shoulder, you lifted one leg over the edge, making sure your foot was stable on the garage roof before the other joined it. You made sure to shut your window quietly as to not disturb your parents before getting down on your hands and knees, slowly shuffling to the edge of the roof.

You looked down to remind yourself where the dustbin was before dropping down onto it, the fall not being long enough to cause too much noise. Smiling to yourself, you climbed down from the bin and huffed, fixing your styled hair before making your way down the driveway.

It was late, thankfully, so your living room curtains were closed, keeping you out of sight from your parents. Just as you turned the corner, however, your face dropped, being met with none other than Hopper's truck.

Hopper was a good friend of your dads since the pair had worked together for a long time, and he sure as hell knew how protective your parents were over you. So naturally, seeing him after sneaking out wasn't exactly ideal. You rolled your eyes, knowing he had already seen you.

"Y/N," he rolled down his window, a grin on his face, "Sneaking out, are we?"

"Uh- yeah, I mean, no," you stammered, silently cursing yourself for slipping up, "I'm going to a sleepover,"

"So if I knock on your door right now, your dad won't be surprised to see you not in your bedroom?" he raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips when you let out a heavy sigh. "Look, Hop," you spoke, readjusting the bag on your shoulder, "Please just let me go out, I'm not gonna do anything bad,"

"I can hear the bottles clinking in your bag," Hopper chuckled, rubbing his brow, "Plus, anyway, why would I over for you when you treat me like shit all the time?"

"I don't-"

"Uh, yeah you do," He scoffed, "You always avoid me, hardly ever speak to me when I'm round your dads and when you do, it's one worded fucking answers,"

"It's not like that," You rolled your eyes, "It's not that I don't like you, Hop-"

"Then what the fuck is it?"

You sighed, considering whether or not to tell him the truth. The fact is, the reason you avoided him all the goddamn time was because you were so nervous around him; I mean, who isn't around their biggest crush?

"I- I like you," you stammered, regret filing you as soon as you finished speaking. Your cheeks turned red immediately and you looked down at the ground, cursing yourself for actually telling him. "Is that it?" he laughed, shaking his head. You looked up at him, a bit confused.

"You could have just fucking told me," Hopper rolled his eyes, "Fucking teenagers,"

"What-"

He cut you off by climbing out of his truck, taking a few steps so he was in front of you. You flushed even more red at the closeness and he smiled, holding up a hand to your chin. He tilted your head up to look at him, his eyes scanning your face before landing on your lips. You let out a shaky beath before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours.

#jim hopper #jim hopper angst #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x y/n #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #1k celebration

154 notes · View notes

velvetcloxds · 2 years

Text

PATHETIC | J.H.

pairing: dilf!jim hopper x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warning: age gap (reader is 21), parental emotional abuse, narcissistic father, so much talk about emotional abuse, emotional trauma, angst

summary: you were a hollow figure willed by the strings of his abuse to dance to his horrid song but in jim you found solace, found home, and how desperately you wished you could stay

You were glued to the sidewalk, eyes dazed yet focused on every move, every sudden gesture as you looked through the open curtain of your kitchen- the sight was familiar, the sense of bitter anger flooding your body just the same- but something felt different. Watching him go off on her, watching her flinch at the very gestures and movements you were so desperately monitoring, it was like a scene so unfathomably committed to memory but it was worse than ever, it stung more than you thought possible, it suffocated you to the point of wishing the air would just leave you all together- because you didn’t see it coming, you let your guard down, allowed yourself to trust him despite every nerve in your body begging you not to and it led you right where it always did, that bloody sidewalk.

You cleared your throat, shoving your keys back into the pocket of the jacket you’d very short-sightedly stolen before sneaking out of Jim’s place and with once last glance you turned to walk away. The walk to the station was longer than you remembered it to be, each step leaving you with about a hundred more until you stumbled through the doors, smiling softly at Florence as you walked past her to his office, you didn’t have to wait, no one would ask you to, but Jim wouldn’t allow it either. He was on the phone when you slipped into his office, taking a moment while closing the door to rid yourself of any lasting emotion from what you’d seen, from what you were going to tell him, but even still, you knew it would make no difference- he could read you like a book, he knew which pages you tended to turn back to.

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight,” he hummed, words met with a soft rustle as he placed the phone back onto the table, trying to tidy up the desk a little, something he’d have done before you came if he knew. His face fell once you turned around to see him, one hand still on the handle as you leaned back against the door. “Oh, baby,” he sighed, seeing you wearing what you’d warn last night, a tiredness he hadn’t seen in months consuming your features, your body, like a poison filtering through your blood, killing you slowly right before his eyes. “Want me to send someone?” he asked, standing up even before a reply to come towards you, still giving you a moment to give him the word. It was a small nod that set him off, one arm gently guiding you from the door, not daring to let you go, let his touch wander from your body as he held onto your waist, thumb moving instinctively

“It’s bad, Jim,” you nearly whispered, a soft command to have them hurry, have them stop him. You didn’t think he noticed the soft cooing sound he offered in reply, hand slipping into yours when you shifted your body to the wall, watching him call for someone, hearing them agree to his stern yet respectful demands.

You didn't register much more, slipping into thought to begin looking for the pieces, for the signs. Foolish, you thought, naïve- how'd you miss them? You always missed them. Jim's fingers were grounding you, fighting to keep you here but it was senseless- so were the officers going to your house, he'd be gone by the time they got there, the real him, the monster. He had a moment, he'd say, she just made him so angry, he was tired, he works the hardest, you know, doesn't get to feel things. Feel what? What feelings could he have other than hate? Hate for her, for you, for everyone but himself it seemed because he was never the monster in his eyes, everyone else was.

Were you wrong? Bitter perhaps. The truly mad one, making it up, conjuring lies. Emotional abuse they call it- madness, would you. What a coward, all that power over the lot of you and he couldn’t even land a punch. Bad thought. Horrible. Absolutely shameful, to want for such a morbid fate. Don't think it again. Don't. It’s not something you ought to think about ever, ponder, not something you should ever allow yourself to feel but what if you did? Would it be so terrible to admit that at least it would be real then? And there it was, you let it simmer too long, it was starting to sound logical because you can't doubt the existence of a bruise, at least the pain would have cause, grounds, it would be over and done with- he hit you, fair enough. He shouted? Got upset? Played with your mind? Destroyed you? Took every thought and idea and word that left your mouth and convinced you that you were losing your senses, mad with hatred despite everything he’s done? Words, just words, nothing but consonants and vowels and bullshit spewed into poetic manipulation. Pathetic.

What a carousel to be stuck on. Turning. Always turning, so they say you can't get off but for heaven’s sake when did you get on? Six years old staring blankly at the wooden door at the end of the hall, lights are off but you're sitting across the blue bathroom holding onto something- a stuffed animal perhaps. No, there wasn't enough money for those, the dog maybe? Yes, the dog- he doesn't like them shouting either. Not them, just him, always just him. It was always turning, she got on, brought you with, and now you're stuck too. But she had a chance, so many, at any point she could get off, but she stayed- familiar with the pain, calls it by name, looks it in the face- she stays and so do you because how could you leave her in the cycle that she brought you into? Her choice took away yours. So, it’s always been turning, naïve as you were you forgot the bad days, looking forward to the good days because he loved you then- couldn’t hurt you then. It was an act then too, now it seems so clear, so obvious, he couldn’t truly fathom the concept of love not even for his daughter, not even as a child- silly girl, stupid little thing hoping for something he couldn’t offer you. Pathetic.

There's good in there, she'd say, remember the good. You tried, more than you should've, you tried but the good months became scarcer, bad months became scarier. You couldn't trust him, couldn't find good in the pain, the disappointment- he'd destroy you and pick a piece from the wreckage to save for later, so you marked off the crime scene- no one in, no one out. It was your pain and you'd drown in it, but he couldn't make it more if you didn't let him but what a fool you were- every now and then his case would become stronger, act become better and you thought you were immune, thought the virus couldn't sicken you but you'd always end up right there, at the pavement, in the hallway across the blue bathroom, in this office. You let him make it more. Pathetic.

How could words, critical thoughts run through and analyzed, how could any of it ever begin to explain how much it hurt without hurting at all? You wanted a father, someone to love you, protect you, and no matter how much the reality presented itself something in you kept holding on. Maybe the other shoe wouldn’t drop, maybe the act would stick, maybe he really was learning to love you, care for you because no matter how much you knew it wasn’t real it damn sure felt real. He felt real. But he wasn’t, never was, doesn’t matter how old you got or how much you worked through what they labeled as trauma, he was still the monster, and he would always be the monster. You just wished your heart would stop letting you believe otherwise. Because it would always be one step forward and three steps back, you’d always be treading on eggshells, on edge, waiting for him to snap and it was unfathomable, how you could try so hard to be everything he demanded of you and still it would never, not even slightly, not even a close, be enough for him to change. The carousel never stops turning, you can’t get off, but you can hold on a little tighter, fight a little harder, you’d always suffer but you’d survive a little longer. Pathetic.

"Sweetheart," home, for all it stemmed from that voice was home, more than that house could ever be. "Come back to me," Jim begged, you complied, pushing the pain back into its hole but your body still ached.

"Sorry," you spoke too soon, habit more than feeling, you didn't want to upset him too, you'd let her out too long- the real you, the wounded you, broken girl too weak to be okay, too strong to let it kill her no matter how much easier it would be, instead you always ran. But the arms you ran to were so warm, so safe, so suffocating that it almost willed your body to let go of the hurt you've allowed your veins to feed life to. Almost, never truly because you feared it would always be apart of you, hidden in the crevasses of your mind, shadowed in your actions, your movements, you were a hollow figure willed by the strings of his abuse to dance to his horrid song until his grave welcomed him home.

"Shh," it was gentle, the little coo, the soft objection, he didn't want you to apologize for something you couldn't control. You leaned into him, his arm first, quick kiss to his bicep, one more to his shoulder and then you breathed him in. Oh, heaven. Home.

"Jim," you breathed, you couldn't love him more if you tried, couldn't need him more even if you didn't want to. Another coo, deeper, like breathing, and then he kissed the top of your head. He was reeling you in and you melted, trying to be consumed by him as he moved you into his embrace, hands enclosing around your head, forcing your eyes to meet his.

"You here?" he double-checked, needed you to know it was real, you weren't overreacting, mind wasn't playing tricks on you- he was real, the monster and so was your saviour, your Jim. "Baby?" you nodded, swallowed too loudly, gripped his wrists too tightly- just had to be sure.

"I'm here," you whispered, brittle sound if you'd ever heard it, one to be embarrassed of but you couldn't bother, you breathed him in again, intoxicated, so easily you let his love rob you of your fear, at least for a delicate, fleeting moment. Fingers snuck underneath his arms, took hold of his shoulders, strong, so strong for you even if it was breaking him to watch you like this, burdened by your pain as if he didn't have enough of his own. In and out, body against yours and you feel him completely, this couldn't be a figment of your imagination, not even the greatest of minds could create such a man. He was real, your mind was broken, ruined, weighted heavily with lies and scripts and shadowed memories but Jim Hopper was real, and he was good, and he allowed you to take him down with you into the darkness where you dwelled. "I'm here," you repeated, and he sighed contently, kiss on your nose, fingers brushing hair away, he wanted to see you, you let him.

"Stay," he demanded lightly, he could see your eyes begging you to slip back, slip away to all you'd tried so hard to leave behind.

"I'll try," you promised- lied. Pathetic.

#jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x yn #jim hopper x y/n #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper fanfiction #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper fic #jim hopper one shot #jim hopper imagine #jim hopper blurb #jim hopper drabble #jim hopper angst #jim hopper hurt comfort #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things angst

117 notes · View notes

joeslover · 2 years

Note

Some angst with jim hopper x reader? With some fluff at the end?

“You’re not leaving, are you?” You mumble to Jim, he looks over at you as he’s buckling up his belt. “I have to.”

“But.. we never have time for each other anymore, it feels weird not having you here! Can’t you just take one day off?” You shout at him and the tone you chose with him made him a bit shocked. Why were you getting so angry?

“Look, I’m sorry but someone out there has to look after this shitty world we live in, I can’t just sit here and let the kids be in danger and adults even be in danger.” He ranted to you, running a hand through his hair before placing his hat on his head.

He left without saying anymore. You slumped back onto the couch, a pout on your lips as you lifted your legs to your chest. You shouldn’t of done that. You regret it, badly.

You decided it would be good for you to get a nap, so you lay comfortable on your back and get some rest.

After a couple hours you had guessed, you heard the door open softly as Hopper walked through, closing it just as softly.

He walked into the living room to see you just waking up, coughing and sitting down beside you when you sat up. “I’m.. sorry.” He apologised to you as you shook your head, “No, you don’t need to be sorry, I’m sorry. I know you’re very busy and I didn’t mean to be so mean.”

He brought you into his side by your shoulder, pulling you closer to him and kissing your head. “Shush, it’s perfectly fine.. don’t worry about it, it’s fine. We were just in the moment.”

#im sorry if this is bad :(#stranger things #stranger things x reader #jim hopper fluff #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x reader angst #jim hopper angst #jim hopper x reader fluff #stranger things fluff #stranger things angst

146 notes · View notes

strangererotica · 9 days

Text

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Jim Hopper x reader • Part two of a series; read part one here • Includes unprotected sex, angst, age gap, piss is briefly mentioned as reader has a big ol squirt yee haw 💦 dubcon due to Hopper being under the influence of magick✨

The ethics of love spells have always been debated amongst witches, with the majority agreeing that any spell which alters another’s free will is morally wrong. But when you returned home to Hawkins from college on break, you made the decision to cast such a spell on your old crush, Chief Jim Hopper. Since briefly meeting you again after your return home, Hopper has fallen more deeply in love and lust with you every day. As the results of your spell reveal themselves, will you be able to accept their consequences…?

꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱

( Tuesday morning )

The rain pelting Hopper’s windshield forced him out of his trance. How long had he been sitting behind the wheel of his Blazer, parked in his usual space in front of the station, completely lost in thoughts of you?

This new pattern of behavior was completely unlike him, Hopper conceded. He’d been unable to shake a rapidly growing obsession with you. And the worst thing about it wasn’t the fact that for the first time in years, Hopper was actually losing control over a woman. The part of the situation that truly set Hopper’s conscience on fire was that the object of his lust happened to be half his age…and his best friend’s daughter…

Hopper hoped that by focusing on business-as-usual at the station, he’d be able to free his mind of you for awhile. He put out his cigarette that was burning down, and reached into his pocket to exchange it for a new one. Hopper’s eyes caught the form of someone standing on the far side of the station. He squinted through the raindrops peppering his windshield, focusing…on you.

The moment Hopper realized who he was looking at, he practically tore the door open to exit his vehicle. He didn’t remember to close it behind him, unaware that he’d also left his keys in the ignition. Hopper’s gait quickened till he was so close he could see the way your lips began to turn in a coy smile. And then, as quickly as you’d appeared…the image of you was gone.

Hopper stopped dead in his tracks, as if coming out from under a spell. His sudden burst of exertion caught up with him, breath huffing from his parted lips, his eyes wide and darting back and forth around the space you’d just been standing.

He blinked several times, rain dancing off his eyelashes, dripping from the brim of his hat. A grim realization swept over Hopper, words materializing in his mind in a voice that sounded like yours: “It’s too late, Jim. I’m inside you now. You have to have me…”

Hopper’s steps faltered as he made his way back to his vehicle. He removed his keys before distractedly closing the door and heading for the station’s entrance. Was he losing his mind? The image of you had been so…real.

As he entered the station, Hopper tried to focus on the strong scent of fresh coffee that greeted him. He removed his rain-soaked jacket and hat, nodding a polite but insincere greeting to officers Powell and Callahan as he passed them on the way to his office. Hopper turned the corner and closed the office door behind him, locking it immediately. He felt a small sense of comfort at being separated from the others. Hopper wanted to be alone right now, more than anything. He needed privacy, a chance to contemplate his options and formulate a plan of action. Because for all his failed attempts at resistance, Hopper was a beaten man. And he was ready to admit it.

Nothing in the world mattered anymore, he realized, besides having you. Hopper sat behind his desk and poured himself a shot of whiskey from the bottle he kept locked in the bottom drawer. With a cigarette alternating between his lips and fingers, Hopper allowed his mind to wander. And inevitably, it wandered to images of you, pornographic images that normally, Hopper would have made at least some attempt to resist.

But now, he realized such efforts were pointless. Whatever sense of willpower Hopper had was useless against the spell your body had over him. And as usual, Hopper’s own body responded quickly to the stimulation of the filthy scenes his mind was weaving. He slouched back in his chair, undoing his belt so automatically that he wasn’t even aware he had till his cock was inside his fist. Hopper’s eyes fluttered closed as he allowed himself to succumb fully, without reservation, to the fantasy of you. Because unlike all the times he’d done this before, it wasn’t going to be a fantasy much longer. Hopper was determined to make having you a reality…and soon.

His thoughts drifted to that evening a little over a week ago. The first time he’d seen you, this new version of you, a woman now, who bore no resemblance to the clumsy teenager you’d been in Hopper’s memory. He’d immediately felt an attraction to you, and how could he not? Everything about you was perfect in Hopper’s eyes, the way your body moved around the room, your soft laughter which stirred something deep inside Hopper, waking a yearning he hadn’t experienced in a long time…and your smile…fuck, that smile…the one that had Hopper’s cynical heart beating with wonder again, rattling the dust off the joy inside him that had been buried for decades…

He’d known it then, the moment he’d seen you: Hopper was in love with you. Throughout the following week, his feelings for you had only grown stronger. Fantasies of your sweetness, and the corruption of it, permeated Hopper’s every waking thought. You even followed him into his dreams, fulfilling Hopper’s desires even as he slept. He’d wake up in the night drenched in sweat, his hard cock throbbing against his stomach. Hopper would come seconds later, watching himself ejaculate almost in a state of trance, still half asleep. Hopper would lay panting for awhile, his stomach wet and sticky with his own release, before wiping himself clean and having a cigarette. After about fifteen minutes of remorse and post-nut clarity, Hopper would have himself (nearly) convinced that his dreams were just that, and not a reflection of how he truly felt. But when he woke up hours later with his usual morning wood, Hopper needed to take care of it. And with his mind fully rested, his thoughts inevitably turned back to you…

The sounds of people talking outside Hopper’s office faded, while his thoughts grew louder…and filthier. As he languidly pumped his cock back and forth in his fist, Hopper allowed himself to indulge perhaps his most taboo fantasy of all…

In his mind, you were there in Hopper’s office with him, bound and gagged beneath his desk. Your wrists were restrained by Hopper’s handcuffs, your mouth full of him. He was throat training you, his cock nestled on the wet bed of your tongue. Your eyes were trained on Hopper’s as he gazed down at you knelt between his knees. He cupped your face in his hand, stroking the pad of his thumb along your cheek.

You’d been at this for awhile now; Hopper knew you must be tired. But like any new pet, you needed to be trained; and by training your throat to fit him, you’d be able to take Hopper as deeply as he wanted, whenever he wanted-

A knock on Hopper’s office door startled him. His eyes flew open, and with a strained, husky voice, he snapped “-WHAT?”

“Chief?” Flo responded. “Someone’s here to see you.”

Hopper rolled his eyes and cursed under his breath. Just what he needed right now, with his pants down and his dick in his hand. A goddamn visitor.

“Well tell them I’m busy,” Hopper growled. “Whatever it is-whoever it is-they can wait…”

There was a pause from behind the door. “…She’s really adamant, Hop,” Flo added, her voice a bit more assertive. “Pretty little thing; Sounds like she might be in some kind of trouble.”

Hopper sighed heavily, irritated further by the realization that Flo was not going to send this girl away. He rose from his desk, frustratedly shoving his chair out from behind him. Hopper tucked his dick away in his pants as best as he could, but his erection was still very obvious. He swiped a folder from his desk and held it in front of his groin as he made his way to the door, pulling it open more aggressively than he needed to.

The woman standing beside Flo took Hopper’s breath away…just as she had a little over a week ago, and every day since.

“Hello, Jim,” you said, smiling up at Hopper warmly. He felt his knees tremble, a blush washing over his cheeks. Embarrassed by his uncharacteristic display of vulnerability, Hopper cleared his throat and attempted to compose himself. “Uh…hey, (y/n),” he said, his voice wavering, and then to Flo, “thanks, I’ve got her.” Flo nodded, and turned back down the hall.

Hopper wet his lips, as they’d suddenly gone dry. You cocked an eyebrow at him, playfully pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. “…Aren’t you gonna invite me in?” you asked, breaking the awkward silence Hopper’s staring at you had created.

“Oh, sorry-yeah,” Hopper stammered, stepping aside to let you pass through the doorway. “Please, come inside.”

He noticed as you lingered in the doorway, and when he closed it, how your hand slipped behind his to press the lock in. Hopper didn’t question why you’d locked the door, because somehow…he already knew.

“Flo said you-.” Hopper swallowed as you sat down in the chair in front of his desk, casually spreading your legs and draping one over an arm of the chair like it was nothing, your eyes never leaving Hopper’s. “-You-uh…” His eyes drank in every inch of you. “…You have a problem of some kind?” he finished, averting his gaze to his desk.

“Look at me,” you ordered, and Hopper did. You were leaning forward in the chair now, an intensity in your expression that had been absent before. “That’s better,” you grinned, and leaned back slightly. “And yes, Jim, I do have a problem.”

Hopper nodded, his lips parted in anticipation, beads of sweat forming along his hairline. “…I can help,” he breathed, his voice faltering again. “Just, tell me how, and I will…anything…”

Hopper realized the folder was still in his hand, but he no longer needed it, seated behind his desk. He was still rock hard inside his pants, even more so now due to your presence. You watched as he placed the folder on his desk, knowing exactly what he’d been using it to conceal…

“Jim,” you began. “It’s a personal problem I’ve come to see you about…do you understand?”

Hopper nodded, although in truth, he had no clue why you’d shown up at the station today.

“I need you to help me with my…” You glanced away for a brief moment, almost bashfully. “Impatience,” you finished. Hopper frowned slightly, confused. “Because,” you continued. “I was going to wait for you to come back to my house and fuck me-.”

Hopper’s chest dropped as all the air in his lungs left him at once.

“-But I got impatient,” you concluded. “And I realize, impatience is a flaw in my character. I’d like your advice on how to improve it…” Hopper’s jaw tensed; he wasn’t sure what he was hearing, or where the line between reality and his own fantasies ended. Had you really just said those words to him?

“Since you’re…you know-,” you shrugged. “Older, I figured you must be wiser, too. And I also figured, you could teach me some things.”

Hopper’s confused expression deepened slightly. “You…need someone older?” he asked tentatively, choosing his words carefully, as he wasn’t sure if any of this was happening at all. “To teach you…” Hopper cleared his throat again. “…Things?”

“Mm-hmm,” you replied. “And one of them is patience.” You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. Hopper’s eyes slid between your now partially-exposed breasts.

“One of them?” he asked. “What are the other things?”

You hooked a finger beneath the front of your shirt and pulled it down, allowing your breasts to spill out over the fabric. Hopper’s eyebrows lifted, his lips pressed together in a hard line, his nostrils flared slightly. His entire body was tensed, hands clenched into fists, his heels digging into the floor.

Your eyes were glossy, wide, innocent, even as your nakedness was fully on display. “Can you help me, Jim?” you asked sweetly, rising to your feet. You placed your palms against Hopper’s desk, leaning over it, allowing your breasts to linger mere inches from his face. “…Please?”

Hopper was moving purely on instinct at this point. Whether this was a dream, reality, or some combination of the two, he was no longer in control of his actions. Hopper stood up, bumping the prominent erection in his pants on the underside of his desk. He grunted at the discomfort and his own awkwardness, but quickly forgot about both as soon as his lips met yours.

Hopper pulled your body into him, lifting you slightly and wrapping your legs around his thigh. You curved your hips upward, grinding gently against him, savoring the way he grunted in pleasure as you humped his thigh. “God you’re so fucking beautiful,” Hopper murmured against your lips, in between kisses. “I’ve been-mmm-I’ve wanted this ever since you came home-.”

You bit down slightly on Hopper’s lip, shushing him. “I know,” you said, sucking at the mark your teeth had made in his skin. “So show me everything you’ve dreamed of doing to me, Jim.” You slipped your tongue between his lips, then pulled away for a moment. “Show me all the ways you’ve wanted to fuck me…”

Hopper took you by your shoulders, and guided you onto your knees. “Think I want that pretty mouth first,” he said. “Since it’s being so cocky today, maybe it should have a cock in it…”

You smiled widely, going to your knees obediently before Hopper. He removed his cock from his pants and smacked his tip against your lips, slicking them with precum. “You look even better on your knees than I imagined you would,” Hopper murmured. He rubbed his tip along your lips, spreading them apart, smearing his precum between them. It tasted sweet and mildly salty on your tongue as you curved it against the underside of Hopper’s cock.

He gently held your head in place while guiding himself between your lips. Hopper groaned as you enveloped him, the moist warmth of your cheeks cushioning his shaft as he used your mouth to stroke himself. “Fuck, you fit me like a glove, kid,” Hopper groaned. His fingernails dug lightly into your scalp as he pressed his cock deeper, stretching your throat. “That’s my girl, takin’ it just like a bitch, like you were made for it…” Hopper’s degrading words tugged at your core, had your clit beginning to throb. You gurgled and choked on Hopper’s cock with every thrust, your gag reflex activating every time his fat tip prodded the back of your throat.

Hopper moaned, his hips faltering. “Shit,” he cursed. “You’re getting me too close, baby, ‘an I’m not done with you yet-.” He lifted you by the shoulders and tossed you onto his desk, spreading your legs and burying his face between them. The shock of Hopper’s lips immediately honing in on your clit had you reeling, your thighs shaking as Hopper suckled your plump, sensitive bud and made out with your pussy in wet, sloppy kisses. He slipped his tongue between your labia, swirling your slick between your lips before penetrating you with his tongue. Hopper lapped at your pussy, the texture of his tongue soft, but its muscle rigid as he stiffened it to fuck into you.

You came on Hopper’s tongue, your thighs draped over his shoulders, his face covered in your slippery release as a mix of cum and piss expelled from within you and saturated Hopper’s beard and neck. He rose from between your thighs, his face dripping with you, hair messy and sprinkled with stray drops of your cum. Hopper mounted you, splayed and helpless on his desk, and entered you in one abrupt, brutal thrust. He grit his teeth and groaned from behind them, your soft whimpers making it all the more difficult for him not to immediately empty himself inside you. The squeeze of your cunt was like a warm, welcoming vice, the sweetest kind of death a man could ever ask for, to be crushed between the sopping grip of your tight, firm walls.

The next five minutes were a white-hot blur for both you and Hopper, a mix of teeth and tongues on skin and his cock punching places inside you that didn’t seem anatomically possible. Hopper’s breath grew shorter and his pace more frenetic the closer he came to climax. He started to pull out as he felt the beginning of what would likely be the most intense orgasm he’d ever had. But you squeezed your thighs around his waist, forcing him deeper, and with a firm, aggressive voice, ordered “NO.”

Hopper was so close, and you were so certain, so insistent, that he could hardly resist the temptation to fill you up. And next words that left your lips in a pretty, breathless request, were so sweet, so soft, Hopper felt his already weak defenses fall completely… “Come inside me, Jim…please…”

There it was, Hopper’s favorite part of every fantasy he’d had about you. The part where you begged for his cum. At that point, no amount of common sense or rational judgment would have convinced Hopper not to paint your guts in his cum. Growling against your shoulder, Hopper pumped three final thrusts inside you, emptying his load between your plush, puffy walls.

His thighs were shaking, his whole body trembling over yours. The sound of voices murmuring from beyond Hopper’s office began to fade into his awareness, and he realized that everyone in the station must have heard what the two of you were doing. A dull panic began to settle in Hopper’s stomach. Hawkins was a small town; rumors spread quickly here. And gossip about the famously-promiscuous Chief of Police were especially salacious in the townsfolk’s minds. As the weight of Hopper’s actions began to settle over him, he suddenly felt…ashamed.

Hopper abruptly pulled out of you, and reached for a box of tissues nearby. You watched him remove a few and hurriedly clean the cum off his dick, as best he could anyway. He wadded the tissues into a ball and dropped them into a waste bin, a grim expression his face.

“What’s wrong, Jim?” you asked, noting how he kept glancing at the door. The voices murmuring outside his office had turned to whispers…sharp, judging whispers, and Hopper began to fear the worst. He looked back at you, and realized with a bitter remorse that he’d very possibly just ruined his entire career. “Get out,” Hopper said flatly, and you balked at his callous tone.

“Are you fucking serious?” you asked, closing your legs and sliding off his desk. Hopper shook his head at you, the effects of your charms beginning to fade. Angry, defiant, you stood directly in front of him, forcing him to look at you. Hopper stepped back, fixing his clothes and still shaking his head as if wishing to rid himself of a poison. “That’s not gonna work,” he insisted, his voice hollow. “Whatever that is-this fucking hold you’ve have over me-it’s done…I can’t do this…”

You rushed for him, tears burning your eyes but Hopper grabbed you by the wrists before you could strike him. “Get…out,” he glared down at you. “And think about what we’ve done…about what this means for both of us…”

You spat at Hopper’s face, but he didn’t react. When he released your wrists, you made a quick exit for the door, a dangerous rage boiling inside your gut.

As soon as you opened the door, several pairs of eyes met yours. Practically everyone at the station was crowded into the hallway outside Hopper’s office, quickly scattering when they saw you. Your cheeks burned pink with embarrassment… You’d gotten what you wanted, but at a price. If even one of those people spread word about what had happened, the results could be catastrophic for your reputation, for Hopper’s career, and maybe most of all, you feared that a friendship your dad valued so much, would be ruined…

Bowing your head in shame, you quickly walked through the station, grateful for the cold rain that hit your face when you made it outside. The spell was completed; the fun was over. And now, you were left picking up the pieces your selfish game had left in its wake, the potential heartache you’d unleashed. Maybe you had learned a lesson in patience, after all…that rather than use magick to bend someone’s desire toward you, it was better to wait for love to find you, organically. Regardless, the damage was now done.

You climbed inside your car and turned on the radio, trying to lose yourself in the words and melody playing. Part of you wanted to pull onto the highway and leave Hawkins behind forever, to rid yourself of the burden of seeing your father’s face when he heard what his daughter and a man he thought he could trust had done.

You backed out of the station’s parking lot and pulled onto the main road through downtown. On the way to your house, you decided that you’d have to see Hopper again, to admit that you’d used him, that he’d been tricked. But what you didn’t know, was that for all your efforts, the spell hadn’t worked…at least, not in a literal sense. Jim Hopper had been captivated by you, enchanted, obsessed…and in spite of his hateful behavior back in his office, he still was. You were good at deception, it seems, but not so good at spell craft. Hopper was in love with you. And it would take more than a scandal big enough to turn all of Hawkins on its head to change that…

────────────────

@mrshopper84 🩷

50 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 1 year

Text

Jim Hopper

Kitchen help- requested - El wants to help with dinner, Hopper sneakily watches his two girls bond (fluff)

Ride it - requested - Hopper is too tired to please his girl, if she wants to cum, she better ride his thigh (smut)

Dad's best friend - requested - Y/N has the hots for her dad's friend. ( fluff? Smutty?)

His girls - requested- Hopper is ready for El and Y/N to meet ( fluff )

#jim hopper x reader #jim hopper #jim hopper x fem!reader #jim hopper angst #Jim hopper angst x reader #Jim Hopper fluff #Jim Hopper fluff x reader #jim hopper smut #Jim Hopper Smut x reader #Jim Hopper x female reader #jim hopper stranger things #Jim Hopper masterlist

35 notes · View notes

pedrito-friskito · 2 years

Note

okokokokok so I dunno about you but I feel like hopper needs more love and attention?? So how about when he first starts to clue in that he's falling for you?? And maybe he feels guilty actually falling in love again after everything that happened????? help??? - 🐠

oh my sweet lil fishie nonnie…..you are killing me slowly but surely.

I have so many hopper thots and you hit me with ANGST? delicious.

🔥friday night fever!🔥

Hop’s got a lot of things to feel guilty for. In his book, anyway. Joyce will tell him different, he knows, and El can’t exactly wrap her mind around the concept of guilt, not totally, so she just chalks it up to him being the grump he is.

You, however, somehow manage to read him like an open book, and it drives him crazy.

You’re younger than him, to start. Not young enough to make him feel creepy, but…younger. Bright-eyed and with much more of your life ahead of you than he has, and he genuinely wonders sometimes what you’re doing hanging around with a burnt-out cop like him, chain smoking cigarettes in his cabin and watching cable on the nights El stays over at Max’s.

It’s become a weekly habit, and Hop can’t find it in him to say no to you, letting you take over his tiny kitchen and cook him one of the three meals you’ve perfected in your single-dom: lasagna that he swears is even better than Enzo’s, chicken noodle soup that makes his chest ache with memory, and sloppy joes that are so delicious he has to stop himself from licking the sauce off your mouth when you’re done.

It takes him a while — admittedly longer than it should, by some standards — to realize that he’s falling for you. The guilt that comes with it is immense, the past creeping up the back of his throat and making his vision dark. He hasn’t told you everything, not be a landslide, and he knows that he should. He wants to; every time he’s around you he says more words than he has in the days leading up, wanting to tell you every detail of his days, and wanting to hear every detail about yours.

You have a habit of playing with his hands while you talk, leaning across his tiny kitchen table and wrapping your fingers around his wrists, dragging your fingertips over the lines in his palm. You toy with the band of his watch, scratching lightly at the marks on his hands, rubbing your thumb over the blue hairband around his wrist.

You haven’t asked. He hasn’t told. But he knows you don’t miss the way his breath hitches when you touch it, his eyes glued to your hands, yours on his face.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to,” you say, the words almost a whisper, “but I’m here, Jim. If you want to talk, I’m here.”

That’s when he knows, that he’s falling in love with you. The territory feels foreign to him, after being alone for so long. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up, and he takes your face in his hand then, big hand spanning your jaw, and kisses you. He drinks down the noise of surprise that ekes out of your throat. He takes you to bed and fucks you gently, driving his body into yours with all the passion he can’t articulate.

When you start to get real about your own past, the guilt grows. He should be returning his stories with his own, showing his sympathy for the horrors you’ve faced — thankfully nothing close to what inhabits Hawkins, but all the same, seeing the darkness that crosses your face has his stomach in knots.

Admittedly, he almost starts to push you away. When you call to plan your weekly dinner, he makes up a meeting at the station, forcing himself to ignore the saddened dip in your voice. He doesn’t last long, however, because then he starts to miss you, and finds himself driving to your place in the middle of the night, kissing you breathless the moment you answer the door.

And then, something snaps. He’s not surprised that it does, knows that it’s mostly his own fault for letting it go on so long, and he finally — finally — pushes the guilt away. He has to tell you.

You’re sprawled on his chest, drawing aimless circles over his heart, your head on his shoulder. His arm is tight around you, body worn out from his day, the love-making he’d instigated the moment you showed up on his doorstep.

“I have to tell you something.”

He can see the confusion on your face, quickly sitting up at the tone in his voice. You reach for his discarded flannel on the ground, pushing your arms through the sleeves and wrapping yourself in it like a housecoat. He sits up too, leaning against the headboard of the bed, and the space immediately formed between you two makes the guilt sing. He deserves this, to have you looking at him like this, to have you drifting from him.

No.

Jim watches your face, as he talks. Watches the shock and the fear, the confusion and something like anger seeping into your features, lighting your eyes. He toys with the hairband as he talks, and more than once, your eyes move to it, your hands pulling the flannel tighter around your body, scooting towards the foot of the bed as he speaks.

He doesn’t want to tell you about the supernatural, about the lab and the kids and what El really is, but once he starts talking, he can’t seem to stop, and before he knows it, he’s recapped the last ten years of his life. You’re near silent, save for the occasional gasp or squeak of confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he finishes, wiping his hand over his face and staring up at the ceiling, “for not telling you sooner.”

You’re quiet for a long time, your knees drawn up to your chest, just staring at him. He stares back.

“For what it’s worth,” he pushes himself to say, his voice low as he reaches out, curls his fingers around your ankle, “I’m only telling you this because I know I’m falling in love with you, and I can’t keep letting this get in the way.”

“You’re what?” you ask quickly, your voice higher-pitched than he’s used to, and it makes him chuckle.

“I’m in love with you,” he repeats, “and everything I just told you, you have to know. I still don’t understand what you’re doing with me, honest to god, but I just—”

“You’re not getting rid of me, Jim Hopper,” you say, your tone surprisingly stern as you move back towards him, settling into his lap and taking his face between your hands. “No matter how many scary stories you tell me, I’m not leaving.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, and can’t stop himself from smiling now. Damn you. “And why’s that?”

You’re grinning back, nose moving along his and mouth ghosting across his lips. “Cuz I’m in love with you too.”

—————

I have a taglist! if you’d like to be tagged in future works, please fill out this form!💕

jim hopper tags: @steadyasthe-flowers @trickstersp8 @billyhargrovesprincess @detectivecarisi-1 @dnxgma

#friday night fever #my fics #jim hopper #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper angst #jim hopper x you #stranger things fanfiction #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper smut #(kinda LOL)

48 notes · View notes